#not necessarily a Christmas post but I did get this as a gift the year it came out

[found-in-retro-game-mags]

Need for Speed Underground

"Own or be Owned" (Official U.S. PlayStation Magazine #73, Oct. 2003)

#need for speed #need for speed underground #ea #electronic arts #gamecube #ps2 #xbox #pc gaming #video game ads #retro gaming #not necessarily a Christmas post but I did get this as a gift the year it came out

[cybrsan]

Miracle Of The Season — J.JK

STORY SUMMARY: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

PAIRING: Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, smut ; second chance romance, angel AU, soulmate AU

WORD COUNT: 17.2k

WARNINGS: Heavy themes of religious trauma, an initially negative view of Christianity transforming into a more neutral/respectful view of individual faiths, initial dismissal of other religions, difficult self-growth journey, homelessness, very brief mentions of murder and rape

OTHER/NSFW WARNINGS: Sharing one-bed trope (kinda), mistletoe trope (teehee), first time, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, unprotected sex

A/N: This is a lot. The story definitely got away from me, but I think that's because there was so much I wanted to say. I definitely could have made this longer, and if I had time/wasn't such a slow writer, I probably would have. It's a heavy topic, but it's one that is near and dear to my heart and one that I think a lot of people can relate to. If you do, I hope this story feels a bit healing.

A/N 2: This is based on the vibes of his song "Standing Next To You" and the m/v for it.

LINKS: Part of the Jingle All The Way! collab with my talented, wonderful friends. Cross-posted on AO3 and (eventually) Wattpad. Banner made by the lovely @kithtaehyung.

"—let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

You take a deep, calming breath as you pass the carolers. Their cheerful voices grate on your nerves, but you keep your head down and continue walking. Lashing out at them won't do any good, even if it might give you a moment of satisfaction. It's not like they're the source of your irritation anyway; the crowded streets are abuzz with the unrelenting chaos of the Christmas season, and you have been on edge all morning. 

Turning a corner, you enter a street closer to the shelter you have been calling home for the past year and a half. Immediately, some of your tension dissipates, and you feel like you can breathe a bit easier. There are fewer lights here and less noise, but a few decorations still attract your attention, like a moth to a flame. A nativity scene is proudly displayed in someone's window, and you stop dead in your tracks.

"Freedom of religion, my ass," you mutter bitterly as you tear your gaze away. Why does everyone and their mother seem to celebrate this stupid holiday? 

You know that for many, Christmas isn’t necessarily a holy season. Some humans just use the holiday as an excuse to wear obnoxious sweaters, play the same song on repeat, and spoil one another with gifts. Yet reminders of the celestial realm, of the life you have been cast out from, are everywhere. The nativity, for one. Then there are the carolers singing their songs, and the cartoonish cherub decals that can be found on shop windows, holding banners that proclaim, “Buy one, get one 20% off!” Even the name of the holiday is marked by one of His monikers. Christmas. 

It makes you sick. 

The weather doesn't help, either. Drawing your coat more tightly around yourself, you try to ignore the relentless chill that settles deep in your bones. You’re definitely not dressed warmly enough, ill-prepared considering the sensation of being cold is something you’re still getting used to. It is yet another item you have added to your ever-growing list of "whys.” The question of why God created snow joins the ranks of "why did He make spiders?" and "why is He the most selfish being in existence?" 

You sniff. Perhaps you let your emotions get the best of you at times.  

Emotions. Another thing that’s somewhat new. As an angel, you didn’t really have those. The only thing you ever thought about was following orders and how better you could praise His name. Ugh. It’s hard to believe now that you were ever so single-minded. Though, towards the end, you suppose that wasn’t the case. It all went awry when you started this “list” of yours—when you started questioning things. 

The moment that doubt had first crept into your mind seems like a lifetime ago. Reaching the status of archangel was something you had been working toward for millennia. It was a position that allowed you to work more closely with humanity; you were able to actually guide their paths and alter their destiny. 

At first, it was everything you had ever wanted. The miracles that occurred because of your intervention made you feel like you were doing something worthwhile. But you quickly learned that not all of your missions would be quite as fulfilling. 

You will never forget the first time you were put in charge of administering a holy test. The man had done nothing wrong, yet your higher-ups still insisted that he needed to be "tried by fire." The divine reasons were beyond comprehension, or so you were told. But watching the man suffer as everything he loved was taken from him, seeing the desperation and despair in his eyes… It felt wrong. That feeling stayed with you even as you watched the man's faith remain unbroken. Somehow, that made it worse. 

And then there were those who committed sinful acts and escaped punishment. You saw murderers and rapists living their lives in peace while innocent souls suffered unjustly at their hands. The scales of justice seemed unfairly balanced, and you began to feel crushed by the weight of your guilt.

Thus, the degradation process began. For the longest time, you thought it was a myth, a scary story told to keep angels in line. If you doubt, if you disobey, you begin withering away into nothingness. You'll start to feel things, to lose your sense of purpose. It will be painful and overwhelming and, eventually, you'll cease to exist entirely. You were told that if it were to happen, you must report it to a superior at once. But you were terrified. 

There was only one person you trusted enough to share the way you were feeling—your other half, your celestial counterpart. The one who knew you like no other did. Your Astrom, Jungkook. 

There is an old celestial folk tale that documents the first creation of an Astrom pair. It is said God took one star and split it into two. Neither half could live without the other, nor would they want to. It is difficult to describe the way you felt for him, as angels are devoid of personal desires or emotions as humans experience them. It was simply as if being with him was as natural as breathing. He was the only being other than the Creator that you felt beholden to, that you admired. 

When you first revealed your doubts to him, he simply listened, displaying a level of patience that you found comforting. He answered your questions about morality, about justice as best he could, trying to reassure you that everything happened for a reason. Yet no matter how persuasively he argued, your doubts wouldn't go away. 

Eventually, you began to start contemplating letting yourself fall from grace. The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a certain allure to it. To Fall meant to renounce your celestial responsibilities, and that included no longer having to inflict pain on innocent souls. 

When you confessed this dangerous thought to him, Jungkook gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. All you remember is what he said next: "If you Fall, I shall Fall with you."

His words had been unexpected, and you didn’t know whether to take comfort in them or not. You didn’t want him to share your fate, to bear the burden of your guilt. Could you live with yourself if he Fell too? The answer was an obvious no. But the mere thought of being alone in your struggle was something you couldn’t stomach either. So, you attempted to keep your dissent to a minimum and perform your duties as required. But it wasn’t long before everything fell apart regardless.

Eventually, you were discovered and brought before the celestial court. You were accused of blasphemy since questioning Him was an unforgivable sin and sentenced to Fall, to be cast out from the life you have always known. Yet, the real blow came when you found out who had betrayed you. 

Jungkook.

Your Astrom. 

The one you had trusted implicitly, the other half of your celestial star, had betrayed you in the name of divine loyalty. The pain of the Fall, the feeling of your grace ripped from your body, the scorching burn of your wings as they turned to ash—none of this could compete with the raw, gut-wrenching anguish of his betrayal. 

Even now, months later, remembering makes you feel as if you can't breathe, as if you might die. Every memory of him is like a punch to the gut, and the city, so full of noise and life, does nothing to drown out the agony. Some days, the pain is so vivid and unbearable that it feels as though you are Falling all over again.

A rough shove against your shoulder makes you stumble, and the man who ran into you barely grunts out an apology before continuing past. At least the disruption is a timely one, allowing you to pull yourself out of your thoughts before you spiral. There’s no point focusing on the past when there’s nothing you to do to change it, especially not when you have a myriad of new human concerns to deal with.  

Your job hunt was, once again, unsuccessful. You keep telling yourself that it’s because it’s so close to the holidays and you’ll have a better chance once the new year comes. In reality, you’re sure it’s because you have no experience, no schooling, and no useful knowledge.

At least you’re familiar enough with the city now that zoning out didn’t prevent you from getting to your destination. 

Lost Star Shelter.

The place you’ve been calling home. It’s certainly not perfect, but little on Earth ever is. You feel awful stepping past the crowd of people waiting outside its doors, knowing that they, like you, have nowhere else to go. You've been fortunate enough to secure your spot due to your volunteering efforts and the fact that the manager, Naomi, seems to have taken a liking to you. But not everyone is so lucky. 

You step inside, greeted by the familiar smells of disinfectant and something cooking in the kitchen. The place is buzzing with activity as usual—mothers trying to soothe crying children, elderly folks chatting away in groups, and a few lone souls quietly scrawling job applications. 

"Long day?" Naomi catches your gaze from behind the front desk, her warm smile a stark contrast to the weariness etched in the lines of her face. 

"Isn't it always?" You head over and pick up the clipboard she slides toward you, scanning your list of tasks for the day. As expected, it's long hours of mindless labor, but you don't mind. Not only do you need to earn your place here, but volunteering gives you a sense of purpose similar to your previous heavenly duties. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you're actually helping, not harming.

"First on the list," Naomi points to an item at the top of your clipboard, "is the donations room. We just had a big drop-off and could use some extra hands sorting through it all. But grab some dinner before you start, okay?"

You nod, her straightforward nature getting a slight smile out of you. "Yes, ma'am."

You navigate your way towards the crowded dining area, where a line of people has formed, waiting for their turn to get served. The cooks, all volunteers like yourself, are bustling about, serving portions of the day's meal which looks to be a thick stew accompanied by fresh bread. The food is simple but hearty, more than enough to keep you working through the evening. You make a mental note to slip into the kitchen later and thank them for their hard work.

You find an empty seat at one of the long tables that occupy the space, making yourself at home amongst the people who are engrossing themselves in their meals or with idle chatter. You even join in on a conversation with some older women across the table, who are engaged in a spirited debate about soap operas. Your knowledge of pop culture is sparse at best, but they seem delighted to fill you in on the latest drama, their laughter infectious. 

After your meal, you make your way towards the donations room. The sight of piled-up clothes, toys, blankets, and other items is both overwhelming and heartwarming. Naomi wasn't kidding when she said they'd received a large drop-off. It's a daunting task, but you roll up your sleeves and get to work. You start by sorting through the clutter, meticulously separating everything into various categories—men's clothes, women's clothes, children's clothes, etc., and items that need repairs or cleaning. Hours pass by unnoticed, the rhythm of work almost meditative.

Your thoughts inevitably wander back to Jungkook. A pang of longing shoots through you. He was the one who would always be by your side when you had to perform menial tasks like this in the celestial realm. You wonder what he would think of your new life. Does he look down on you from up high with pity or disdain, or does he simply not think of you at all? You aren't sure if you even want to know the answer. 

As time wears on, the room gradually becomes less cluttered and more organized. You're just about to take a break when Naomi appears at the doorway, her aging features softened by the warm glow of the hallway light behind her. She takes in your progress with an approving nod. 

"You've done well," she says, stepping into the room. 

You can't help but feel a sense of pride at her words. "Thank you, Naomi." 

She strolls around the room, her observant gaze sweeping over the sorted piles, her hands touching a few items here and there.

"It's amazing," she finally says, "how much kindness there is out there, even when it seems like everything is falling apart. No matter how rough things get, we can choose to be generous, choose to help others. That's what makes us human."

Her words resonate with you. You’ve seen the worst and best of humanity firsthand; the same species that wages wars also unite in times of crisis, offering support and showing kindness to total strangers. How much is influenced by higher powers and how much is purely human nature, you wouldn't presume to know. Your very existence has blurred the lines between supernatural influence and mortal will. 

"True," you say, looking up at Naomi from where you're still seated on the floor surrounded by donations. "That’s a nice way to look at things."

Naomi's smile broadens at that, and she gives one last cursory glance around the room before saying, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight, Naomi," you call after her as she steps out into the hallway, half-waving at you as she goes.

A little over an hour later, you step back to admire your work. Each item has been categorized, ready to be cleaned and redistributed. You move on to your next set of responsibilities: cleaning up the common areas and helping close up for the night. 

The smell of cleaning supplies clings to your skin as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters—a small, shared room filled with single beds. Careful not to disturb anyone, you move towards your assigned bed, its familiar creaks and groans echoing softly under your weight as you settle into it. Exhaustion pulls at your muscles, but you need to wash up and change before you sleep. 

You grab your shower caddy, change of clothes, and quietly make your way to the women’s bathroom. The fluorescent white lights flicker to life as you enter, revealing a row of curtained shower cubicles. You choose one at the end and let the water heat up as you undress. The hot water cascades over your tired body, soothing your muscles and washing away the sweat and grime that has built up throughout the day. 

Shower done and teeth brushed, you pull on fresh clothes and make your way back to your bed. As you settle back down under the covers, you notice something strange on your bedsheet. A crisp scorch mark is visible against the fabric, and when you observe it more closely, you're shocked to realize that the shape almost looks like… fingers? Your heart hammers in your chest. 

"Impossible," you whisper to yourself. 

The sight of these burns is not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you have been the cause of such marks before. It is a common occurrence when celestial beings interact with the mortal world—remnants of their powerful energy left behind. But as you stare at them now, a sense of unease creeps over you. Could it be Jungkook? The thought flickers through your mind, but you quickly brush it aside. Why would he make himself known in this way and then vanish without even seeing you? You can't allow yourself to hope. 

Dismissing the thought, you force yourself to rationalize that it must have been an accident. Perhaps someone burned it while it was being ironed. It’s easy enough to convince yourself; after all, it’s only three and a half slender marks—it could be anything. But the unease remains as you lay down on the bed, your mind filled with questions. You eventually succumb to sleep from sheer exhaustion, your dreams filled with memories of Jungkook.

The next day passes in a blur—the usual routine of job applications, food preparation, and cleaning duties. The burn mark on your bedsheet remains a mystery. You track down the volunteer who did the laundry, and she swears she wouldn't be so careless as to burn someone’s belongings. Despite her assurances, it's the only explanation you are willing to believe. You return to your bed to find that the sheet has been replaced with a fresh one, the burn mark gone as if it never existed.

You spot an older man sitting on a bed in the corner; his mouth moves silently, and the rosary beads dangling from his fingers lead you to believe he’s praying. A small, faux Christmas tree, no larger than a water bottle, stands on a box next to him. The sight stirs something with you, an uncomfortable feeling once again settling in your gut. You don’t understand his faith. How can someone continue to pray to a God that has obviously forsaken him?

You wait until the man finishes and safely tucks the rosary beads into his shirt pocket, right above his heart, before you approach.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up at you with a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. "What can I help you with, dear?" 

"I noticed you praying," you begin tentatively. Despite your personal qualms with religion, you don’t want to seem as if you are disrespecting him or his beliefs. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how do you keep your faith? Under these circumstances?"

He doesn't seem bothered at all by your blunt question. Instead, he chuckles softly and pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitate a moment before complying.

"Faith isn't about having all the answers," he starts, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "It isn't about being rewarded for good deeds or punished for bad ones. It's about hope. It's about believing that things will get better."

“Hope? Still? Despite… despite being here? I mean, aren’t you upset with God?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as well, a mixture of curiosity and frustration seeping into your words.

He remains silent for a while, his gaze wandering towards the small Christmas tree on the box beside him. 

"No, I'm not upset with God," he finally replies. "Man is given free will, and it is man who chooses what to do with it. Crisis, poverty… God didn't create these. They're the consequences of human choices." His words are sincere, spoken with a calmness that only comes from years of contemplation. "God doesn't promise us that life will always be easy or free from hardships. But He does promise that He will be there in those times of trouble. You see, faith isn't about expecting God to fix our problems, but about having the strength to face them."

“I envy your strength,” you admit with a hint of admiration in your voice.

“Strength is born from struggle, dear. You’ll find your way soon enough.” 

“I hope you’re right.”

The conversation lingers in your mind long after the man's words have faded into silence. You sit on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, pondering them. His unshakable faith is both alien and inspiring to you. Even when you were an archangel, before any doubts seeped into your mind, your faith was nothing like his. It was a duty, an obligation, a resolute certainty that was less about personal beliefs and more about the world you were born into. 

His mention of hope sticks out to you the most. You look around the room again, taking note of the different symbols of faith scattered across the room—crosses, menorahs, and even a small prayer mat in one corner. Each person in this room believes in something larger than themselves, something that gives them hope. And you? You're not certain what you believe in anymore. But maybe, just maybe, some of your anger has been misplaced. 

As the daylight fades, you find yourself wandering outside, the crisp evening air bringing a kind of comfort you couldn't find inside. You walk aimlessly, your feet following the now-familiar sidewalks. You end up in a park, and you make a seat for yourself on a deserted bench.

Looking up into the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink, you let yourself miss Heaven for just a minute. To miss Jungkook. Even the Creator. You can never go back to worshipping Him, nor do you want to, but you can't deny the connection that once was. As much as you wish everything never happened, you are grateful for how much you've grown since. 

Suddenly, you’re disoriented by a bright flash of light and a shrill, piercing sound that makes your entire body jolt. You shut your eyes and cover your ears, but it does nothing to dull the pain. It's as if the noise is coming from inside your mind. You half-crawl, half-fall off the bench, curling in on yourself, unable to think anything, do anything, until it finally comes to a stop. 

The world pauses around you; the birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, and people are frozen where they walk. A familiar feeling washes over you, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Even in this form, even as a human, his presence calls to your very soul. You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt, how empty you were, without him by your side. He’s your other half, and he always will be. The realization makes you want to cry. You had hoped after the Fall, after you became human, that would cease to be true. You can’t stand the fact that you’re still irrevocably tied to him, even after all that he’s done. As always, fate is cruel.

“Y/N.”

He speaks your name with a quiet reverence as if he can hardly believe you’re there in front of him. The familiar, honeyed tone of his voice reignites your longing for him with full force, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes closed. You can’t look at him. You aren’t strong enough.

“I cannot believe you are alive.”

What?

His statement shocks you enough that your eyes fly open of their own accord, and for the first time in months, you're met with the sight of Jungkook. You're not sure if you perceive him differently now that you are mortal, but he's even more captivating than you remember. 

His dark hair curls softly atop his head and is tousled ever-so-perfectly. His skin is beautifully tanned, and the way his tall figure is silhouetted against the sun makes it seem like he's glowing. His wings are obsidian, gargantuan in size, seemingly consuming the entire park with their reach. He's magnificent, so beautiful it hurts.

But it is his eyes that have you frozen in your spot—those beautiful, brown doe eyes, filled with so much emotion that it takes your breath away. He's not supposed to be able to feel unless… unless he has begun the degradation process, as you had.   

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice trembling. "I thought you were dead." 

“I don't understand,” you manage to choke out, trying to sound more composed than you feel. You pull yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain radiating throughout your body. How much of it is physical and how much is emotional, you can't tell. 

He takes a step closer to you, his hands outstretched as if to ensure that you're real, but you recoil instinctively. He flinches at your reaction but still grabs your arms, grip unrelenting even as you attempt to pull away from him. 

“Protective markings have been burned onto your ribs.” Hurt flashes across his features. “Were you hiding from me?”

“What? No.” You manage to break free and back up a few steps, putting some distance between you. You feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze, remembering how he always seemed to know what you were thinking even before you did. "I didn't even know I had them."

"I need you to explain everything," he demands. 

“You need me to explain?" You scoff and cross your arms over your chest defensively. "What about you?”

“Me?” He tilts his head slightly, his confusion obvious.

“Yes, you!" You take a step closer, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "After all, you’re how I ended up in this situation, right?” 

“What are you talking about?”

"You betrayed me!" you hiss. “I confided in you, and you told me you understood. That you were with me. And then you turned around and proclaimed me a blasphemer!” 

He doesn’t respond right away, and it’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his head as he pieces things together. “Y/N… I would never.” 

His admittance makes you pause. Angels aren’t supposed to lie, though you know not everyone abides by that law. However, Jungkook has always been one of the most dedicated to the commandments. 

“That’s not what Namsu told me.”

“Namsu? The Throne?” 

“Yes, the Throne. The one who exiled me on the orders of up high.”

His eyebrows furrow. “You… were exiled? You did not wither?”

"Wither?" you scoff. "That's a myth, Jungkook. A cover-up to hide the fact that when angels start to stand up for what they think is right, they get cast out. And it's thanks to you that I'm here now."

"I… no." The intensity behind the word takes you aback. "I just wanted to help you; I thought you were sick. I went to one of the Cherubim for guidance—I would have never turned you in for some kind of punishment." 

His words hang in the air, making your heart pound in your chest. He was trying to help you? The thought sends a flurry of conflicting emotions through you. 

"Help me?" You repeat his words, mocking him in your disbelief. "Your way of helping got me exiled! Cast down and made mortal."

"I did not—" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Yet it did!" you snap, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as if they could somehow shield you from the pain his presence brings. "And now I'm here, and nothing will ever be the same!"

"I am so sorry." His apology is whispered so softly that you almost don't catch it. But you do, and it hits you like a punch in the gut.

Your head feels as if it's about to implode. He didn't purposefully betray you—in fact, he was trying to save you. But even so, his actions have led to your downfall, and now you're stuck here on earth, far from the light of Heaven, vulnerable and mortal, while he remains immortal and untouchable. Perhaps that's the part that hurts the most. The fact that now you are separated not by betrayal but by the very nature of your beings. 

Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. "If all this is true, then why wouldn’t you have looked for me?”

“I looked everywhere at first, but I could not sense you anymore.” If it was possible, you think he would be crying too. “Namsu is the one who told me what happened. He said that you… that your doubt consumed you, and you did not survive.”

The information hits you like a ton of bricks. Your knees almost give out for a second time, but Jungkook reaches out and grabs you by the elbows, steadying you. 

"I… I had no idea." A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you look up at him. "You didn't know anything, and I presumed the worst of you." 

His fingers tighten around your arms in a reassuring squeeze. "We can always start over, Y/N." 

"Start over?" you echo, incredulous. "You make it sound so easy."

"And why would it not be? We were not the ones to blame for our separation. Come back with me."

"I'm human now. The only way I can come back is… is if I'm dead."

His grip loosens, his face paling at your words. "I did not mean to suggest… Of course, I do not want you to die," he hastily corrects himself, glancing down at the ground. His wings flutter uneasily behind him, betraying his discomfort. "There must be another way."

"If there was, would it even be safe? I mean, why would Namsu do this?" you ask, staring at him. You're not sure if you're asking him or simply musing aloud. Even so, the question hangs heavily in the silence between you.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jungkook speaks again. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I wish I had the answers you seek, but I don't. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation." He turns away from you, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. "I need to return and confront Namsu. He must account for his actions."

"No, it's too dangerous. What if he forces you to Fall, too? You can't risk it, Jungkook." 

He looks back at you, his expression hardening. "I will not let him get away with this, Y/N," he says resolutely. "Deception is not a virtue of a Throne, especially not in such grave matters."

"And you won't let him, but you need to go about this carefully. Going to him directly won't work—he's too powerful."

Jungkook tilts his head, regarding you skeptically. "It almost sounds as if you are asking me to be deceitful." 

"Not deceitful, just… stealthy?" 

He doesn’t respond immediately, his brow furrowed as he mulls over your words. After a moment, he exhales slowly, pulling back from you to pace the grass in thought. "Stealthy," he repeats slowly, his voice distant. "That would require careful planning. Secret meetings. Misdirection."

"Yes," you agree, watching him closely. "All of that."

He stops suddenly, turning to look at you. "Very well. I will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."

Your chest tightens, and you gnaw at your bottom lip. His resolve both comforts and worries you. You don't want him to risk himself for you, but part of you is happy that he is willing.

"However,” Jungkook breaks your train of thought. "It sounds like I may need to be a little bit more human to pull this off. After all, none of this comes easily to angels, but mortals lie all the time."

You raise an eyebrow. "And how are you going to achieve that?"

"You will have to teach me, of course." He says this as if doing so will be the easiest thing in the world. “The degradation process has already started for me, as I am sure you are aware. It should be easy.”

"You're serious?" 

Jungkook had always been so straight-laced, the epitome of angelic perfection. The idea of him playing at being human is almost laughable.

"Completely," he responds, his intense gaze never wavering. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Namsu to justice and try to fix this. Fix us. If that requires adopting some mortal habits, then so be it."

"Alright," you finally concede, shaking your head in amusement. "Time for a crash course in 'how to be a human' 101."

He smiles faintly at that, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards just so. It's a small thing, barely noticeable amidst the tension still hanging heavily in the air between you two, but it's enough. Enough to remind you that the way you felt about him in Heaven, despite not being able to feel, was some kind of love. You don't know where that leaves you now or what you're going to do about it, but procrastination is another human skill you have come to love. Maybe you'll teach him that eventually.

"Lesson one," you start, pointing a finger at him in mock sternness. "Humans don't always speak so formally or in such grandiose phrases. ‘I am going to bring Namsu to justice' sounds archaic or like something a two-bit superhero would say."

His lips quirk upward into a more genuine smile this time. "I see," he replies, his voice deliberately casual. "So how would a human say it?"

"Well, for starters, you could use slang," you suggest. 

Jungkook’s brows furrow, an almost comical look of concentration on his face. “Slang,” he repeats, testing the word on his tongue.

“Yes, slang. Humans don’t always pronounce every single word, and they often come up with new, shorter words to replace certain phrases. You could say something like, 'Namsu’s gonna get what he deserves.'”

He nods, repeating your words slowly. “Namsu... is going to get what he deserves.”

You burst out laughing at his attempt. The prim, stoic angel fumbling his way through human speech? It is truly a sight to behold. 

"Laughing at my expense?" He feigns hurt, but there's a playful twinkle in his eyes that gives him away. "I guess that's lesson two then: humans are full of mirth and mockery."

"You're catching on quickly," you reply, still giggling slightly. “And yes, we like to laugh.”

He observes you a moment longer before finally allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips. It's a deep, rich sound, but it feels tentative like he's not quite sure if he's doing it right.

“Laughing…" he murmurs, puzzling over the concept. “Such a peculiar expression of joy. But I like it." 

"As you should," you reply, a grin still playing across your face. "It's one of the best parts about being human."

Jungkook studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you."

"Hm? What does?"

"Being human."

"I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.” 

"There is a certain spontaneity in humans. A vibrancy that angels lack." Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he steps closer. "It makes you shine more brightly. Like the sun."

He's so close to you now that you can make out the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you, warming you from the inside out. 

"That—" You clear your throat, trying to steady your shaking voice. "That sounds like a compliment."

"It is," he confirms, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a brief second before rising back to meet your eyes. "But it is also an observation. A fact."

You want to kiss him. The thought shocks you—you've never kissed someone before, let alone wanted to. It must be a human impulse. You can't help but imagine what it might feel like, the warmth of his lips against yours, his skin beneath your fingertips. You want to feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. But the danger of your respective positions impedes that thought, and you push it down. He's an angel. You're not. Him being your Astrom, the connection you had before your Fall, none of it matters now.

"Okay," you manage to squeak out, trying to ignore the electricity that seems to be sparking between your too-close bodies. "Human lesson number three: we're big on personal space."

"Oh?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow but doesn't step away. "Is this too close?"

You swallow hard. "A bit."

You swear you see a hint of mischievousness cross his features before he complies, stepping back just enough to leave a sliver of space between you. "Better?" 

"Now you're just teasing me," you retort, though there's a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Is that frowned upon?" 

"No," you admit. "In fact, it's quite human of you. Now, it’s time for a real challenge." He looks at you quizzically. "We have to convince Naomi to let you stay at the shelter." 

"Ah," he nods, understanding dawning on him. "I see. Another part of being human—negotiation."

"Exactly."

"Then lead the way." With a snap of his fingers, time resumes for the two of you and his wings have disappeared, making him appear fully human, and you head back to Lost Star.

"Naomi, please," you beg, giving your boss the best puppy eyes you can muster. "He needs a place to stay." 

Naomi crosses her arms over her chest and drags her gaze over Jungkook in a way that suggests she's scrutinizing every cell of his being, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. "There's no extra beds, hun. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do." 

"Then he can stay with me!"

"You and him, sharing that tiny little twin bed?" She scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"We'll make it work!"

"It's still against the rules. One body to one bed." 

"I know it's not ideal, but just for a few days until we figure out something else," you urge her. "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important." 

Jungkook steps forward, interjecting smoothly, "I will respect the rules, and if you feel my presence is harmful or disruptive in any way, I will leave immediately." 

Naomi looks between you and Jungkook, and then she sighs, throwing her hands up in defeat. 

"Fine, but only for a little while. And you can't sleep in the main room. Take my office—the couch is a pull-out."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You pull her into a hug that she returns with a loving exasperation. 

"If there's even a whiff of trouble, both of you are gone, understand?" 

"Yes, ma'am! I wouldn't expect anything less." 

You grab Jungkook’s hand, dragging him along behind you as you lead him through the shelter. You pass through some of the busier living areas, and it's as if everyone can’t help but stare at him. You can only assume that, despite his wings being hidden, he still emits some sort of otherworldly aura that draws people in. Plus, by human standards, you suppose he's quite attractive. 

Jungkook seems unbothered by the attention, too focused on his surroundings and curiously taking in every detail.

"All these people live here?" he asks, incredulous. "This place is quite small." 

"Shh! Lesson four: lower your voice when you're talking about other people. The last thing we need is for someone to overhear and think you're judging them." 

"Apologies," Jungkook replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But my previous comment was not meant to be judgmental. I’m just… surprised. I thought humans usually lived in family units, but everyone here doesn't seem to be related." 

I’m. Doesn’t. He’s already using contractions—you must either be a good teacher or he’s a quick learner.

"You're right," you agree, and as you glance around, your heart aches a little. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to have that. This place is for those who have lost their families or homes." 

"Lost their homes? Like in a fire?" 

"Sometimes. Or maybe they didn't have enough money to pay their taxes." 

"I don't understand. Are there not enough homes for everyone? Why do you need to pay for such a basic need?"

You pause, the innocence of his question hitting you surprisingly hard. Of course he wouldn't understand the complexities of human society, of money and social class, of poverty and wealth disparity. You didn't either; at least, not until you Fell and were forced to figure it out. 

"That is a complicated issue," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "And not all humans agree on how to solve it. Some people think everyone should have a home, regardless of whether or not they can pay for it. Others think that if you can't afford it, you don't deserve one."

He looks so confused that you would be tempted to laugh if the tone of the conversation wasn't so serious. "That doesn't seem fair. In heaven, everyone has a place."

"Yes, well, Earth isn't heaven." There's a bitterness to your words that you hadn't intended. "And why our Creator chooses to leave things like this is a mystery to me. I mean, why not use some of His power to help?"

"The ways of the Almighty are impossible for us to understand," Jungkook quietly replies. "And it's not for us to question."

You snort in response, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, aren't you a dutiful little angel?" 

Jungkook frowns, clearly not understanding your sarcasm. You sigh and shake your head.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's why my so-called degradation process started in the first place. Look at them—" You gesture to the people huddled together around the small television in the corner of the room, others sharing a meal or helping to care for the younger children. "They're good people. Why do they deserve to suffer?" 

Silence lingers between you for a moment. When he responds, he doesn’t answer your question. “Their heavenly rewards shall be plentiful as long as they keep to their faith.” 

“Does that make all of this okay?" You scoff. "Why are they being tested like this? In fact, why do they even need to believe at all to be given a home in the celestial realm? If a person is good-hearted, why isn’t that enough?”

Jungkook looks away from you. "I don't like these questions."

“You don’t like them? Or you don’t like how uncomfortable they make you feel?” 

Before he can even bother replying, you let go of his hand and open the door to Naomi's office, hurrying inside, eager to get some space. It's small and cramped, filled with stacks of paper, an old wooden desk strewn with an old computer and various office supplies, and a well-worn couch wedged against the wall.

"It's not much," you say. "But it's home for now, I guess."

"Home," Jungkook repeats softly, eyes scanning the room. He zeroes in the billboard behind Naomi's desk, filled with photos of smiling people, letters from those that she has helped. A smile tugs at his lips. "It's nice."

"You say that now. Just wait until you're trying to sleep and a couch spring is digging into your back." 

"I don't actually need to sleep," he reminds you. 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Right, I forgot. At least we won't be fighting for the blanket."

"I can pretend to," Jungkook offers, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "The idea of laying next to you is not unwelcome." 

You blush, taken aback. "W-what… you…" You take a deep breath. "No, that won't be necessary. And lesson five: don't flirt with people unless you mean it." 

"What is 'flirt’?”

"Flirting," you explain, trying to keep your blush under control, "is when people say or do things that suggest they're attracted to each other."

"I see." He pauses for just a moment before asking, "And how do I know if I'm attracted to someone?"

You sigh exasperatedly. Who knew teaching an angel to be human could be so tiring? 

"It's… well, it's kind of hard to explain. Especially because, as an angel, you don't really feel, at least not until the degradation process is nearing its end. But basically, it's like you have an inexplicable urge to be around this person a lot. You think about them often, their happiness makes you happy, and you want to be closer to them, maybe even touch them or hold them. Some people also might feel their heart beat faster, or a fluttering in their stomach." 

As you speak, Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. They gleam with curiosity and understanding, drinking in every word you say. He seems to be processing the concept, and then he suddenly smiles. "So, like how I feel about you." 

Caught off-guard, you blink at him, speechless for a moment. And then the panic seeps in. 

"No, Jungkook, that's not correct," you insist, your words tumbling out in haste and denial. "You can't… we can't… you're an angel. I'm—" Fallen, you want to say. Human, you need to say. But you don't. 

"Why not?" he asks simply, his gaze steady. 

"Because!" You scramble for an explanation, desperate to avoid the truth of your own feelings stirring within you. "Because angels aren't supposed to feel that way."

"But I am no longer a pure angel," Jungkook counters. "The degradation process has begun. We discussed this already."

"But that doesn't matter! The whole reason we are doing this is so you can learn the skills you need to figure out a way to stop Namsu from forcing anyone else to Fall. Once you do, you'll be able to stay in Heaven because withering isn't real." Before he can say anything else, you open the door. "I'm gonna grab my stuff from my bed. I'll… I'll be back in a second." 

You slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook alone in the room. It's a struggle to keep your composure as you head towards your bed. All you can think of is his words, the nonchalance with which he said them. You can feel your traitorous heart yearning for him, but you can't let it sway you. Whether it was an accident or not, his betrayal led to your Fall. Led to you being human. And he's an angel. No matter what you feel or what he thinks he feels, nothing can happen between you now. 

As you gather your meager belongings, the man you spoke with earlier approaches you with a sympathetic expression. "You alright, dear? You didn't get evicted, did you? I'll give Naomi a piece of mind if that's the case." 

"No, no," you quickly reassure him with a forced smile. "My… my friend needs a place to stay for awhile, and there's a one body to one bed policy. Naomi was kind enough to let us use the couch in her office for a few days until we figure something else out."

"Your friend, hm?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "That fellow you walked in with? Can't say I blame you. He's quite a looker."

"It's not like that," you blush, hurriedly stuffing the rest of your belongings into your bag. "Anyway, don't worry. You'll still see me around." 

The man grins and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. This place would be much drearier without you."

You bid him goodbye with a wave and make your way back to Naomi's office, feeling like you're walking towards the edge of a cliff. As you open the door, you find Jungkook staring out the window. The streetlight spills in through the gap in the curtains, bathing him in a soft glow. He turns as you enter. 

"Gathered your belongings?" he asks, his voice calm as if the previous conversation never happened. For a moment, you feel robbed—does he not understand the gravity of what he said? But you suppose it's better this way. Easier, at least. 

"Yes," you respond, a bit more brusquely than intended, setting your bag down on the floor. He's still staring at you, and you flush under his gaze. "I'm just going to set up the couch. And stop staring at me so intently. Humans get nervous about stuff like that."

"Another lesson," he remarks. "Understood." Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to the window without a word. 

You get to work, unfolding the couch and covering it with your bedding. The silence between you is thick; you can feel the tension radiating off of Jungkook despite his apparent calm. Your heart pounds in your ears as you busy yourself with smoothing out some wrinkles in the sheets, a futile distraction. 

With a deep breath, you break the silence. "Alright, I'm done." 

Jungkook turns to look, and his eyes scan the makeshift bed you've prepared. "You've made it look inviting." 

"Should be okay for a few nights," you reply curtly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm, uh, gonna go ready for bed. I know you don't sleep, but feel free to sit at her desk or something. Make yourself comfortable." 

You exit the room and head down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. You can’t shake off his confession and your own rush to deny him. The truth of your feelings, or rather the depth of them, is something you aren't ready to face.

After getting ready for bed, you hesitantly return to Naomi's office. The door creaks upon opening, and Jungkook turns from where he's seated at Naomi's desk, looking up at you with his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you say softly, trying not to let your voice betray how uneasy you feel.

Jungkook nods. "Goodnight," he replies, and his voice is gentle, concerned. You feel a pang of guilt at the distance you've created between the two of you but say nothing more, falling into a fitful sleep.

Sometime during the night, Jungkook figured out how to work Naomi's dinosaur of a computer and discovered the wonderful thing that is the internet. When you wake, he flocks to your side like an excited child, eager to share everything he has learned about humans, their emotions, and their behavior.

"Slow down, Jungkook," you chuckle, holding up a hand to halt his barrage of words. "I can't absorb all of that at once."

"Oh," he says, blinking in surprise. "I forget that human minds process information more slowly. Should I take this as another lesson?"

You shrug, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, go for it."

Despite the tension last night and everything unsaid between the two of you, you find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with him. He's eager to learn and keen on understanding humanity—your humanity. Throughout the day, he continues his studies, glued to the computer screen as you complete your daily volunteering. He takes breaks every once in a while to come find you and ask questions.

"I've come across some terms that are perplexing," he says, leaning on the front desk as you catalog some information. "'Memes' and 'emojis' appear prominently in human interactions online, but I don’t really know what they are or how they’re used.”

You answer question after question until you realize you aren’t getting work done, so you have to come up with a plan B. Leading him back to Naomi’s office, you pull up Netflix on the computer. Jungkook watches the screen in fascination as you explain streaming and scroll through all the shows. 

"Let's try Friends," you say, clicking on the thumbnail. 

You leave him to watch as you finish up your tasks for the day, checking occasionally to see that he’s still engrossed in the show. Instead of constantly badgering you with questions, he writes them on a notepad you provided and waits until the end of the day to go over them with you. You answer each one as best you can, completely endeared by him. 

It's during one of the show's more depressing moments that he asks you about lying and betrayal, echoing the heavy undertones from the other day. His question takes you by surprise, his gaze focused intensely on your face as he waits for an answer.

"Lying is a tough one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Sometimes it's out of fear or selfishness. Sometimes people lie because they're trying to protect themselves."

"And betrayal?" Jungkook asks, his voice unnaturally calm.

You sigh, looking down at your hands. "Betrayal… it's when someone breaks your trust. It hurts, Jungkook. It hurts a lot."

He watches you for several long moments before finally speaking again. "I see," he says softly. "And that's what you thought I did to you?"

You swallow hard, feeling the knot in your chest tighten. "Jungkook," you start, but falter, not knowing how to put your feelings into words. 

"I did not mean to betray you," Jungkook continues. "I realize that my actions may have led you to believe that I deceived you, but it was not my intention. I'm sorry."

"I know." You believe him completely, but the wound is still so fresh that you can’t bring yourself to fully trust him again. Not yet. "I know you didn't mean to, but an apology doesn't fix everything. Consider it another lesson—trust, once broken, isn't so easily mended." 

Jungkook plays with the skin around his nails, an anxious habit he seems to be developing the more human-like he becomes. After a moment, he says, "I understand. I will try harder."

"Try harder doing what?" 

"To understand you better. To understand all humans more, their emotions and their beliefs. Maybe understanding what trust really is will teach me how to earn it back and make up for my mistakes." He's so earnest, so genuine, it almost brings tears to your eyes. "I think I want this as much as I want Namsu to answer for his crimes, if not more. And maybe that makes little sense, but maybe… maybe that's quite human of me." 

"And maybe that's progress," you say softly, looking at Jungkook with newfound hope. 

Your new normal is spending your days with your time split between performing your volunteering duties and teaching Jungkook all about human life. 

Christmas is only a week away now, and everyone around you seems to be buzzing with excitement. At this point, even the inside of the shelter has been decorated. The hallways are lined with lights and garlands, and the common areas even have a few trees set up with donated presents underneath. And, as much as you have dreaded the holiday, you can't deny that watching Jungkook experience it for the first time makes you hate it a little less.

Despite the initial stiffness that comes with being an angel unfamiliar with human life, he has quickly adapted to life at the shelter. He's kind and patient, and he’s always eager to help out where he can. The children, in particular, have taken a liking to him. He's become their favorite storyteller and always has the kids hanging onto his every word. 

One afternoon, you find him sitting with them, singing a song in an ancient celestial language. Everyone will assume it’s some gibberish language he’s made up for one of his stories, but it reminds you of home. His voice is beautiful, melodic and soothing, with a honeyed quality to it that would make anyone stop and listen. 

You stand in the doorway and watch, a smile tugging at your lips. He catches your eye and winks, the action so human and unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you. The children turn to see what's so funny, but you just shake your head, telling them to continue listening.

He comes to you when he finishes, smiling brightly. "Did you enjoy the song as well?" 

"I did," you reply truthfully, your heart fluttering at his attention. The feelings you have been trying to resist are becoming increasingly persistent the more time you spend with him. 

"That's good to hear.”

Suddenly, the kids clamor over to you both, giggling and pointing at something above you. You look up, and all the color drains from your face. Mistletoe. Who the hell put it here?

Jungkook looks between you and the mistletoe, obviously confused. “Why are you angry with that plant? It’s quite beautiful.”

“It’s a tradition, of sorts.” You say the word with disdain. “When a couple—not that we are one—walks under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”

“Kiss?”

“We don’t have to, it’s stupid—” 

“No, let’s do it. It's a part of the human experience, right? Let's consider it another lesson."

Heat rushes to your face, and you stutter incoherently, looking around the room for a way to escape. But the children are watching expectantly, their eyes wide and eager. You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Alright… close your eyes," you tell him.

He listens obediently, his eyes fluttering closed. You had never noticed just how long and pretty his eyelashes were until now. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and lean in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you're greeted with a perplexed expression as he opens his eyes.

"That was nice," he says after a brief pause. "But that’s really what a kiss is? In the show, they did it a bit more like—"

He leans in to demonstrate what he means, his lips brushing against yours. It's soft and a bit awkward at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it, pulling you closer. Against your better judgment, you let him, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. His lips are softer than you would have expected. His fingers lightly squeeze your waist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and it's not until you hear some of the children giggling that you are reminded you have an audience.

You quickly pull away, breathless and flushed with embarrassment. Jungkook, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "That," he says. "That is how they did it."  

"Again! Again!" one of the kids shouts, pulling at your arm. 

Jungkook chuckles at his enthusiasm. "I think we should get back to our story," he says, ruffling the boy’s hair lovingly. Then, turning back to you, he murmurs, "Thank you. For the lesson." 

You can barely speak coherently, but you manage to squeak out a small “you’re welcome” before rushing out of the room. How on Earth are you supposed to get your tasks done now? It's impossible to focus, your mind running in circles over his touch, the feel of his lips against yours.

When you return to Naomi’s office later that night, you’re relieved to see that Jungkook isn't there yet. You take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and process your thoughts, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over your lips. A shiver passes through your body, a heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. You drop your hand, clenching it into a fist to stop the trembling.

"Nervous?" a voice asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Jungkook is standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"I… no," you say. 

"Don't lie," he chides gently, sitting next to you on the bed. “I can tell when you do that now, you know.” He keeps to a respectful distance, but he turns his gaze to you. “I think I'm starting to really understand this human thing. Emotions and all that.”

"Is that so?" 

"Yes. They can be painful sometimes but also quite beautiful." 

You watch as he turns his gaze back towards the room, and silence stretches between you again. However, it’s different now from how it used to be; it's not awkward or unsettling, but comfortable. His vulnerability makes you want to be honest, to admit to the way you feel.  

Just as you’re about to say something, he continues, "But now it's time for me to learn about something else. I need to start strategizing for the coming confrontation."

"Right, Namsu," you say. You almost forgot about Jungkook’s original intentions. You clap your hands and get up, heading to the computer. "Alright. Let's research."

With Jungkook sufficiently prepared, the time soon comes for him to return to the celestial realm. However, he insists on leaving at night, so he can spend the day with you. He referred to it as "a date," and you practically tripped over your own feet, much to his enjoyment. He has certainly developed a penchant for teasing you.

You decide to take him into the heart of the city, so he can observe people in their natural element. There seem to be even more decorations than you remember, and people are bustling about to finish their last-minute shopping. However, you find yourself handling the chaos a lot better with Jungkook by your side. 

He hasn't let go of your hand since you stepped out of the shelter, his thumb lightly rubbing circles over your knuckles. Every once in a while, he squeezes it lightly, a silent assurance that he’s there. Whether he notices your nerves and is doing it to comfort you or is doing it because he wants to, you're grateful for it.

His doe eyes dart this way and that, eagerly drinking in the scenery. You try to explain what everything is—the office buildings, luxury apartments, and tiny shops buried in alleyways—but he's more interested in the people. It isn't until you stop in front of a Hindu temple that his attention is finally captured by a building. He cocks his head to the side, eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the sight of it. The temple is a beautiful structure, with elaborate carvings and statues lining its walls. 

"What is this place?" he asks, his voice full of awe.

"It's a place of worship for those that practice Hinduism," you explain.

His eyes sparkle with interest as he takes a step closer to the building. "Can we go inside?"

You glance at him, surprised by his request. But something in his earnest gaze breaks down your hesitation. "Sure," you say softly, leading him inside.

The inside of the temple is even more impressive than the outside. There are vibrant murals depicting different gods and an intoxicating scent of incense that fills the air. You gesture to the bell at the entrance. “Would you like to ring it?”

“What’s it for?” he asks, picking it up gently. 

“It’s supposed to be a way to announce your arrival to the deities.” 

Jungkook shakes it, the twinkling of the bell echoing in the large room. “Pretty,” he remarks as he places it back where it belongs.

He then follows your lead as you move towards the main shrine, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you're about to do. An angel of the Christian God at the altar of a different one? You're almost afraid you'll be struck down where you stand. 

He takes in the offerings with a small smile. "It's all quite beautiful," he remarks. "It's a shame that their gods aren't real." 

You know Jungkook means no harm and that it is what he has been conditioned to think for thousands of years, but you still bristle at his easy dismissal of their beliefs. “We’re real. Our God is real. Who’s to say the gods of their religion are not?”

"There is one God. That is what we were taught."

"Yes, it is. But we were also led to believe the withering was real. Just because it is said does not mean that it is true.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on the offerings. Then he turns to you. "You truly believe that?" 

"I don't know," you confess, feeling a little exposed. “I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm just… questioning. It's complicated." 

"You have given me a lot to think about," he admits, his tone quiet. “For all I know, you might be right. I shouldn't have dismissed their beliefs so easily. I apologize.”

You stare at him in surprise; you hadn't expected him to back down so easily. "It's okay," you reassure him. "I'd say being open-minded is another lesson, but unfortunately, not all humans are."

You continue to walk around the city, introducing Jungkook to as many things as possible. Everything he does fills you with affection, whether it be him trying hot dogs from a street vendor and declaring them divine, or joining some kids who were playing soccer in a park. At one point, he kicks the ball so hard that it lands in a tree branch, and you can’t help but laugh as he clumsily climbs up to retrieve it.

When night falls, you end up at the pier, watching the shimmering water beneath the stars. Jungkook is oddly quiet, looking out at the horizon with a distant expression. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it does leave you feeling a little uneasy. You reach for his hand, and he startles slightly before turning to look at you. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask.

He smiles slightly. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of human expression, and you’re not actually going to give me a penny.”

“You would be correct.”

“I’m thinking about a lot of things.” He exhales as if letting out a breath he has been holding. "You, for one. But I'm always thinking of you so that much isn't a surprise." You blush and swat at his arm. "But I’m also thinking about my beliefs."

"What about them?"

He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, grabbing your hand more tightly as if you're his anchor in a stormy sea. He answers your question with another. "What if everything we have been taught is wrong? I mean, we have never spoken with the Almighty directly. Angels, apostles, they can all take His words and twist them for their own purposes. We've seen it in action with Namsu, and with how the Bible has been changed to promote hatred." 

You're taken aback by his frankness, the depth of his vulnerability. You have no answers for him, but you can relate to him and offer what little understanding you have come to have.

"So maybe it is wrong, and things have gotten taken out of context or changed as the years have gone on. Like you said, we cannot talk to Him, so we can’t ask for the truth. Or, maybe it is all part of a bigger plan, and unwavering faith is the answer.” You pause, steeling your resolve, before continuing, “But it isn’t for me. I can’t live that way. But how you decide to live is your choice. Who you are is your choice. I cannot decide that for you, and neither can He.” 

He frowns. "I don't know how to make that choice. Who even am I? What am I without my purpose? Without Him?"

"Perhaps we're not defined by a single purpose we've been given," you answer quietly. "Maybe we're more than that."

"More than our purpose?" 

"Yeah," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe we don't need a purpose. Maybe it's okay to just exist." 

Jungkook’s gaze turns thoughtful, considering your words as if they are the most precious thing in the world. "Just exist," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he stands up, looking at you with a newfound fire blazing in his eyes. "I need to return. I will talk to some of my confidants, gather information, and then confront Namsu." 

You knew it was coming, but your stomach still drops. You're scared for him, for what will happen when he leaves. But you see the determination in his eyes, the steel in his gaze. You know better than to try and stop him now.

"You'll be careful, right?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

"I will."

He pulls you up and envelops you in his arms. His embrace is comforting, protective, and for a brief moment, it makes you forget about all your worries.

"Promise me," you whisper into his chest. 

"I promise," he says, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. He pulls away after a moment, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. "I will return. For you."

His words weigh heavy in the air as he pulls away fully, breaking the physical contact between you two. His gaze lingers on you for another moment before he turns away and disappears into the night. You're left standing on the pier alone, the cold wind making you shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you head back to Lost Star, where you have nothing to do but wait.

It’s Christmas Eve before you know it. The holiday you have been dreading feels even worse with Jungkook’s absence, and frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You plaster a smile on your face for the sake of the children, playing along with their excitement over what presents they are going to get and stories of Santa Claus. But every time someone brings Jungkook up, wondering where he is, you feel tempted to run to Naomi’s office and hide.

Speaking of Naomi, she has been keeping a close watch over you, mothering you as per usual. You know she can tell that something has happened. Once you step away from the festivities to do some of your work, she pulls you aside.

“Honey, what’s going on? These days you seem so out of it; you’re just flitting around room to room, acting like a ghost.” When you don’t answer, she frowns. “It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?”

"He… he needed to go home. He had some things he needed to figure out," you manage to say. It's not a lie, just an oversimplification of the truth.

She wraps an arm around you. "He's going to come back. I saw the way he looked at you, and you at him. And if he doesn't, well, screw him."

"Naomi!" 

"Sorry, sorry. He was sweet and all, but you're my girl. I'll always have your back." Naomi declares, patting you on the back. 

You accept her comfort, fighting back your tears. If only she knew your fear didn’t revolve around him coming back—of course, part of you is scared that something will happen to him, but the rational part of your brain, the part that knows his strength, has no doubts he'll be alright. In actuality, your biggest fear is that he won't be able to stay with you, and you’ll have to go through the pain of losing him all over again.

He's an angel. You're human. There's no future there. Your traitorous heart made you fall harder and harder for him without sparing that a moment's thought, and now you have to will yourself to accept that you'll always be in love with someone you cannot have.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, nothing but forced cheer and mindless chatter. Naomi sticks by your side as much as she can, making sure to redirect everyone who asks you questions about Jungkook. You're grateful for her presence, her constant support, and now more than ever, you realize how lucky you truly are to have her in your life.

As soon as everyone is in bed and your tasks for the day are done, you seek out the solitude of the pier once again. You've been coming here daily since he left. A sentimental thing, mostly, since it was the last place you saw him. But you also hope each night will be the night he returns.

The wind is strong tonight, the kind that chills you down to your bones, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds. You wrap your scarf more tightly around yourself, gazing aimlessly at the turbulent water. Suddenly, there's a bright light and a shrill noise. You aren't scared this time, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as it was. He must have tempered it somehow, made it less painful for you.

The light fades, leaving behind a figure that is unmistakably Jungkook. The sight of him fills you with such relief and happiness that you rush forward, throwing your arms around him. He envelops you in his arms, his wings folding around you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he buries his face in your hair.

"I missed you very much," he says, breathing deeply.

"I missed you too," you whisper, tears prickling at your eyes. "I knew you'd come back."

"I said I would, didn't I?" he teases, pulling away just enough to look at you. "And I have news."

"What happened?" 

You stay locked in his embrace as he speaks, bringing one of your hands to his face to stroke his cheek, to follow the line of his jaw with your fingers. He lets you, as eager to feel your touch as you are to feel his.

"I confronted Namsu," he begins. "But I wasn't alone. There were other angels who had started the 'degradation' process, those who were too fearful of retribution to say anything. I told them everything, and we confronted the other Thrones about Namsu and everything he had done. They didn’t approve of his actions, and they punished him for it." 

"Really?" You ask, eyes wide with surprise. "Just like that? They believed you?"

A soft laugh bubbles up from him. "It wasn't quite that simple. There was plenty of arguing, plenty of disbelief. I’d never seen anything like it. But in the end, Namsu was banished from the celestial realm."

Relief washes over you at his words, the tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying leaving your body. "That's incredible.” 

Jungkook shrugs slightly, but there’s an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes. "I’m just glad he has gotten what he deserves. Now you have justice." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"And what about the others? The ones who have started to degrade?" Your heart clenches at the thought of them being punished for something beyond their control.

"They're safe," Jungkook assures you quickly. "The Thrones have promised to take care of it all. They're going to convene with Him, to see if the Heavenly teachings can be altered. Things are changing up there; I think it's all going to be alright." 

You're overwhelmed with emotion, both relief and dread tugging at you simultaneously. It is good to know that things will be changing, but what is done to you has been done. And now, Jungkook has no reason to stay with you. You take a step back from him. 

"What about you?" you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze.

"What about me?" 

"You have no reason to stay anymore. You can return to your normal duties. You did what was right, and everything is fixed."

"I did what was right, yes, and I'm sure things will be much better from now on," Jungkook agrees. But he steps forward, taking your hands in his and looking deep into your eyes. "But now, I need to do what's right for me." 

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, my star." Your heart stutters at the endearment. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."

"But… you can only do that if you're—"

"Human, yes," he interrupts. 

"Jungkook! You can't! You can't Fall for me," you half-shout, half-whisper. "You're a good angel, you—"

"Y/N." The force behind his voice stops you. "Even before you showed me the beauty of being human, before I knew how to feel, before I even knew what love was, I would have done anything for you.” His confession takes your breath away, and you wobble on your feet, moving a few steps back from him in your shock. “If you had simply asked it of me, I would have stood with you in the fires of hell for all eternity and still been grateful for each moment spent at your side." 

The tears you were holding back begin to fall. "You would have?" 

“I would. I can. I will.” He moves closer to you with each beat between words until he stands directly in front of you, only a hair's breadth away. Gently, hesitantly—as if for the first time—he takes your hand and presses it to his chest right above where a human heart would be. “Just say the words, and I will fall for you. I will forsake myself and turn my back on Heaven. The pain of losing my wings will be inconsequential compared to the pain of having to be without you.”

"W-what words?"

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know what I want to hear. Be honest. Even better, be selfish, like a human. Tell me what you really want, and I will oblige."

You hesitate. You have been fighting your feelings this entire time, so sure of the fact that Jungkook would choose to continue his life as an angel. You never wanted him to Fall for you, to be torn away from the life he has always known the way you were. But he deserves to make the choice himself. If he wants your honesty, you will give it to him. 

"Speak, Y/N," Jungkook urges, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I want…" You begin slowly, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you. I want you to stay with me." He grins, relief clear in his eyes. "Then I will."

"But you shouldn't have to Fall!" 

"Fall or not, it won't change anything," he assures you. "I chose this path before even knowing there was a choice. I chose you from the second we were created.”

"Even if that means giving up everything?" you ask.

Jungkook’s expression softens. He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "Does it seem like I’m giving up everything?" he muses aloud, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because from where I stand, it seems like I’m gaining everything.”

"Smooth-talker,” you laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his gaze softening even further.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. It's quiet except for your breathing and the sound of waves crashing against the pier. You have been so afraid of asking him to make this choice, and yet he seems so certain about it, as if it was what he wanted all along.

"Are you sure about this?" you ask him one more time, seeking reassurance. "Once done, there's no going back."

His answer is immediate, "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"This will change everything," you say again.

"I know," he replies simply. 

"Come find me when it's over," you whisper, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll be at the shelter." 

As you go to leave, you can't help but glance back over your shoulder at Jungkook, taking in the appearance of him and his wings one last time. He's still standing there, watching you go with love evident in his gaze. It quells some of your worries. And then you blink, and he’s gone.

The hours that creep by feel like days. You busy yourself with meaningless tasks, cleaning the office, flipping through an old book left on the table, scrolling TikTok. None of it does anything to dull your anxiety, and you're weighing the pros and cons of tearing your hair out before you finally hear a knock on the door. You shoot up to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you open the door, and there he stands. "I'm here," he says simply. "As I promised."

You pull him into a hug once again, burying your head into his chest. You can hear the beat of his human heart and, unable to stop yourself, you burst into tears. You know the pain he just went through, can remember experiencing it yourself like it was yesterday, and you can hardly believe he went through something so awful to be with you. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tightening your hold on him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he coos, gently stroking your hair. "This was my choice."

You swallow hard and pull back from him so you can look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret. You find none.

"Are you okay?" You ask anyway, your heart aching at the thought of what he has given up.

"I am," he assures, his voice full of conviction. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, and when he pulls away, he's smiling. "I wondered if doing that would feel different now that I'm fully human." 

"And does it?" you ask, smiling back up at him.

"Yes," he admits, tracing an invisible line down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver at his touch. "It feels more real. Stronger somehow. It's like you're the break of dawn after a long night." 

Your breath catches in your throat. "Being human certainly hasn't changed the fact that you have a way with words." 

"Only when it comes to you," he replies, his fingers never ceasing their journey across your skin. They make their way back to your waist, where he plays with the hem of your shirt. "There's one lesson we never covered, you know." 

"A-and what would that be?" you squeak as his fingers caress the smooth skin of your stomach.

His voice drops lower, and he tugs you closer by your belt loops. "Human intimacy."

You flush at his audacity but don't pull away. "And what would be the best way for me to teach you about that?" 

"Hm…" He leans down so that his lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath with each word he speaks. "I think I would respond well to some hands-on practice."

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his lips press against yours in a slow, searing kiss that turns your knees to jelly. He takes his time exploring your mouth, his lips moving delicately against yours. His hands are warm on your skin, trailing up and down your back as he pulls you closer. 

"Then I suppose we should get started," you manage to whisper when you finally break apart, breathless.

Jungkook moves into the room, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the pull-out bed. He stares up at you, his once-innocent doe eyes now dark and hooded with desire. You float towards him as if being pulled by a magnet, and he pulls you down so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your touch. 

"I think I should warn you," he says, hands sliding down to rest right above the curve of your ass, "I might be a slow learner."

You roll your eyes, a short, playful chuckle escaping from your lips. "I think I can handle that."

The room fills with an easy silence as you continue to explore each other, experiencing sensations new for the both of you. His hands trace every curve and dip of your body, his touch curious yet surprisingly confident. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, his jaw, his chest, and then find their way under his shirt to the newly-formed scars on his back. They are rough against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the rest of his smooth skin. 

"You aren't in pain?” 

“No,” he assures you, his hands sliding to a similar position on your own back. "Were you for long after?"

"No, but I'm still worried," you smile sheepishly.

He laughs and kisses your nose. "Don't be. Don't feel like you have to be gentle with me. I won't break." 

You laugh in return, your eyes twinkling with delight and a touch of mischief. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?" 

He hums in response, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe." 

His teasing reply only spurs you on. Rising to the bait, you lean in to kiss him, this time with a boldness that leaves him momentarily stunned. But he recovers quickly, matching your fervor and deepening the kiss. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer, and his hips jut up against you almost involuntarily. You moan at the sensation, and he stills.

"What was that?" he asks.

"That," you breathe out, "is what human intimacy sounds like." 

"I want to hear it again." 

His lips find yours again and this time it's deep and demanding, all teeth and tongue and the promise of what’s to come. His hands grab your waist, forcing you to grind down against him as he once again lifts his hips up to meet your core. Another moan escapes your lips, the sound quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming against the skin of your lower back. Eagerly, you lift your arms, and he pulls it off over your head.

"Jungkook…" you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. He responds by nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath making you shiver with pleasure. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, his lips tracing the column of your throat, down to your chest. 

He places a gentle kiss above each breast before descending lower still, sucking one into his mouth. His lips and tongue move expertly, drawing gasps from you as your nerves ignite with pleasure. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you securely against him as he devotes himself entirely to exploring the new terrain, and you grind against him wantonly. You can feel that your panties are soaked with the proof of your desire. 

"Jungkook," you say again, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His name is a plea, a prayer. "I need more."

He pulls back, his lips swollen from his ministrations. "And so I'll give it to you." 

You eagerly crawl off of him, shimmying out of your jeans, before settling with your back against the pillows. You grab at the air, beckoning him closer. He does the same, now only in his boxers, and slots himself on top of you, his bare skin against yours intensifying the burning desire coursing through your veins. His hard length presses against your core, and you whine.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admits in a low voice, his hot breath fanning against your face as his eyes search yours for assurance.

You reach up, caressing his cheek. "It's okay," you soothe him, your hands then trailing down his back to rest on his hips, encouraging him closer. "We'll figure it out together."

His lips find your neck as his hands explore every inch of you, his rough fingers exploring the softness of your flesh. He slides one down over your stomach and lower still, feather-light touches teasing you until you're gasping beneath him. His fingers trace the edge of your panties before sliding the fabric down. You lift your hips, aiding him in removing the last barrier between you. He tosses them aside before returning his attention to you, his fingers skimming along your trembling thighs. His fingers move gradually, inching steadily upward until he's touching you where you're most sensitive. You let out a soft gasp, gripping the sheets.

"Is this okay?" he asks. You nod eagerly, unable to get the words out, and he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss at the base of your throat. "Good."

Always the over-achiever, he slides down your body until his face is level with your core, focusing intently on his work. His fingers move with a slow, calculated rhythm that quickly has you dripping for him. Eventually, he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

"Am I doing this right?" he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 

"You must be," you gasp out, encouraging him with a roll of your hips. "Don't stop."

Grinning, he adds a second finger, working you open until you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your back arches off the bed as his fingers work their magic, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Praise tumbles from your lips, but you're sure that it just sounds like nonsense, your thoughts too muddled to form coherent words. 

"You're so wet," he murmurs in a low, gravelly voice that only adds fuel to your desire. 

Without warning, he lowers his mouth to your core, his lips and tongue joining his exploring fingers. The sensation is electric; your breath hitches, and an animalistic moan escapes you. He takes it as a sign of encouragement, doubling his efforts. Your fingers find their way to his hair, threading into the dark strands, seeking purchase. You can't help but pull, and he moans against you, the vibrations only furthering your pleasure. 

"Jungkook," you warn, "I'm—" 

A coil of white heat tightens within you before snapping. His name slips from your lips as you climax, sparks dancing behind your eyelids as he continues to pleasure you, eagerly lapping up your release. He doesn't stop, not until you physically pull him away from you, body shaking with overstimulation. He climbs back up your body, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

His pupils are blown out with desire, his hair slicked back with sweat, and he's so attractive that just the sight of him has you clenching your thighs together. 

You nod, cupping his face in your hands. "More than okay," you assure him. "That was amazing. Now," you slide your fingers down his chest, sliding over the waistband of his boxers. "Let's see what we can do about you."

You hook your thumbs around the fabric and pull them downwards, and he does the rest of the work, kicking them off. You reach down, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his cock. He gasps, his head falling forward against your chest as you begin to stroke him with a slow, measured rhythm. 

He nearly whines, his grip tightening on your hips. "That feels… I can't…" His words dissolve into soft, broken moans as you continue to work him over.

Suddenly overtaken with need, you stop, pulling him in for another searing kiss. "I need you inside of me, Jungkook," you gasp against his lips, "Please." 

Your hand guides him back to your core, and his breath hitches. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, you lift your hips to meet him. He pushes into you carefully, slowly, each inch an intense sensation for both of you. Your body clenches around him as if welcoming him home, a strangled moan escaping your lips. One of his hands clasps yours, bringing it to rest on the side of your head while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning your skin. He's shaking against you, and you feel just as overwhelmed. 

You squeeze the hand that's holding yours, urging him on. "You're okay," you whisper, "I'm okay. Move."

He nods, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back inside of you. Your body jolts at the sensation, gasping his name over and over. 

"You feel incredible," he breathes out, the statement more for himself than for you. “So perfect.” Your fingers thread through his hair once more, pulling him down to meet your lips.

His hips set a steady rhythm, filling the room with soft sounds of skin on skin and heavy panting. He lets out a low groan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot inside of you that has you crying out and grabbing at him wherever you can reach. You wrap your legs around his waist, throwing your head back against the pillows.

"That's it," you whine, "Right there. It feels so good—" 

Your words cut off into a choked moan as he thrusts into you at that exact spot again and again, his movements becoming more erratic. He's close—you can tell by the way his body tenses and how he gasps desperately into your mouth. 

"I'm… I'm—" he stammers out, breath hitching between each word.

"I know," you gasp out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Me too." 

You pull him as close as possible, holding him to you as you both chase your release. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your nails dig into his skin as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, even more intense than the last. You moan his name as you come, shuddering beneath him. He moans into your neck as he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside you. 

He collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. He stays there, nestled inside of you, his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. You feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his taste, the feel of him on top of you and within you. You caress his back, slowly tracing the contours of his scars with gentle strokes, the action soothing for both of you. 

Eventually, he shifts, carefully pulling himself out of you and collapsing onto his back next to you. His hand searches blindly for yours, lacing your fingers together once he finds it. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"Is… are you…" He lifts his head to meet your eyes, unable to form words. 

"I'm more than okay," you assure him softly, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.

"Good," he whispers, a contented sigh escaping him. 

His eyes roam over your face once more before closing, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Together, you lay there under the sheets, and the silence goes on for so long that you almost think he fell asleep. 

Then suddenly, you hear him say, voice barely above a whisper, "I love you." You look over to see him staring up at you with adoration in his gaze and a soft smile on his lips. "I know I don't have to say it since surely there can be no doubt that everything I have done for you is out of love. But I want to say it anyway. I want to continue saying it for the rest of my life. I have loved you since before I even had the capacity to feel it, and I will continue to love you until time ceases to exist."

His confession leaves you breathless, and you can do little but turn on your side, grab his face, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"I love you too, Jungkook," you whisper against his lips, "So very, very much." 

He lets out an audible sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for your response. His free hand reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "I knew you would say so, but I'm happy to hear it all the same."

The two of you get ready for bed, and, for the first time since commandeering Naomi’s office, you fall asleep together in each other's arms.

The day you have been dreading has arrived—Christmas. Despite your initial hatred, however, you find yourself actually participating in the festivities around the shelter. Just like as many others do, you aren't going to consider it a holy day. You're going to use it as an excuse to be happy and spend time with your loved ones. 

You join the group of children who sit by the pile of gifts, their excitement palpable as they eagerly wait for Naomi to declare it time to open them. Small hands tug at Jungkook’s sleeve, pulling him down to their level as they bombard him with questions about where he's been. He settles down amongst them, answering their questions as honestly as he can. His eyes meet yours over the sea of eager faces, and he stretches out a hand towards you, inviting you to join him. You sit right on his lap, making some of the kids giggle.

"Alright, everyone, it's time!" Naomi's voice echoes through the shelter, immediately quieting the children down. 

As each name is called out and the kids scramble to collect their gifts, you can't help but smile. The pure delight on their faces is infectious. Noticing your happiness, Jungkook pulls you back so that you’re leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. 

He places a gentle kiss on your neck, murmuring, "You seem happy."

"I am," you say, placing your hands over his. "The holidays aren't so bad with you around."

"I'm glad." He turns your head so he can place a quick kiss on your lips, one that is light and soft and sweet, full of love. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jungkook," you echo, smiling brightly. 

Later, Naomi corners the two of you, pulling you aside. "I've been thinking about what to give you," she says. "I—"

"Naomi, you don't have to give me anything!"

"Don't interrupt me," she scolds, but there's no bite behind it. "Like I was saying, I was thinking it over, and I realized that the best gift I could offer is not anything material. From tomorrow on, you will officially be a supervisor. A paid supervisor." 

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at Jungkook, who is beaming at you with pride. You turn back to Naomi, stuttering out a response.

"B-but Naomi, I couldn't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," she interrupts, her tone firm. "From the day you arrived here, you have been working as hard as any of us. You deserve this." Before you can argue any further, she thrusts a small envelope into your hands. "Consider it an early Christmas gift and your first paycheck. And my office? It's yours."

"Thank you, Naomi," you manage, your voice choked with emotion. You pull her into a hug, hoping it can express everything you don't know how to say. 

She pats your back, chuckling. "If anything, it's an excuse for me to take some time off. I'm getting old and need to start sharing the burden. Don't expect it to be a walk in the park!"

You pull away, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Of course not. I'm ready to be worked to the bone, ma'am." 

"That's what I like to hear," she comments, her voice carrying an undertone of pride. She turns to Jungkook, her gaze soft but words sharp. "Take care of her, will you?"

"Always," he replies without a moment's hesitation, which earns him a small nod from Naomi.

Eventually, the celebrations wind down and people start to retreat to their beds until only you and Jungkook remain. Instead of doing the same, you decide to return to the pier and watch the water for a bit, not ready for the day to end. The two of you walk in comfortable silence, hands linked tightly as if promising not to let go. 

Sitting at the edge of the pier, Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. His body heat seeps into your skin, fighting away the cold, and you rest your head on his chest, letting his strong, steady heartbeat lull you into contentment. 

"Who would've thought we would end up here?" you reflect, staring out at the ocean. 

Jungkook laughs softly, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. "I don't think either of us could have predicted this."

"I never thought I would be happy that any of this happened, but I am. Are you?"

His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "More than I could possibly put into words," he admits. 

"Will you miss it, though? Heaven?"

"I thought I would," he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "But Earth has its own kind of heaven. You're here. Naomi is here. The children are here. I have so much more yet to discover, to experience." His gaze returns to you, eyes soft and full of love. "How could I miss anything when I have all of this?”

Your heart swells at his words, his declaration warming you like nothing else could. You reach up to cup his face, your fingers lightly brushing his lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment at your touch before opening again to hold your gaze.

"You're right," you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves. "This is our heaven. Here, with each other. And who knows, maybe we'll end up back there someday."

"You think?" Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm a little surprised hearing that from you. I didn't think you had faith anymore or wanted it for that matter."

You shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have my original beliefs anymore, that's for sure, but I don't resent it all like I once did, either. I think I've just found a new kind of faith. A faith in myself, in people, in goodness, and in love. There are so many different kinds of religions out there, and at their core, they're all about trying to understand the world around us, trying to find ways to cope and move forward. I think that's what I'm doing now, in my own way."

"That's beautiful," Jungkook says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Somehow both simple and complex. Just like life itself, I suppose."

"And what about you, Jungkook?” you ask, pecking him on the lips. How will you move forward?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure, either. But I think I'm happy to find out, as long as it's with you." 

You hold each other close, each hoping your touch can express what no words could possibly convey. Love. Gratitude. Hope. The promise of a shared journey. What more could you possibly ask for?

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook au #my fic #collab

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Pink Roses [Fake Dating Trope]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Trope de Sept Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Fake Dating situation 1. Two characters pretend to date for some purpose such as social gain, only for real feelings to get involved at some point "Bucky asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend to keep his elderly sister happy. You’re just platonic friends/coworkers, what could possibly go wrong?"

Warnings: Lil’ bit of angst into a happy ending. Reader uses fem pronouns and is referred to as ‘girlfriend’. No use of y/n. Friends to lovers. Reader spends Christmas and Easter with Bucky but doesn’t necessarily celebrate them herself, but they are mentioned.

WC: 7,000 baby!!!! Kicking off the Trope De Sept event strong!

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“Thank you for the flowers by the way, they are beautiful.” Rebecca sighed, playing with the pink petals of the roses in front of her

“Of course Rebecca,” you responded. “Bucky picked them.”

“Oh my, he has good taste. He gets you flowers right?”

“Oh…” her question caught you off guard.

Bucky had merely introduced you by name when you arrived with him to visit his sister for Christmas. You assumed he had warned her he was bringing a coworker, but she seemed to not have gotten the memo and thought your relationship with her brother was something else.

“All the time, Becca. Mom raised me right.” he said, giving you a playful wink as he did

It was a lie, but Rebecca didn’t catch on.

“See I knew my brother was a gentleman. Oh he is so lucky to have you in his life.”

You shot Bucky a curious look and he merely shrugged in response.

The reason you were there with him at all began a few days before, right before Christmas.

“Hey Bucky, just heading out. See you in the New Year!” you said, tying your scarf tightly around your neck, ready to leave the Avengers compound for the two week break from work.

“Hey yeah! Have a good winter break! You got any big plans?” he asked

“No. Keeping it quiet this year.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah I just…I got so sick of my family asking me the same thing and all my cousins flaunting engagement rings, and wedding plans, and ultrasounds, that I just don’t even bother going home for holidays anymore.”

“Oh yeah, I get it. You should meet my sister. I’m going to see her on Christmas and all she does is worry about me. She’s convinced I’m unhappy because I’m single. She literally tries to set me up with every new nurse they hire at her nursing home and I just know most of the Christmas dinner conversation is going to be asking me when I’m going to find someone nice to settle down with.”

“Oh gosh that sounds fun.” you said with a chuckle

“Hey if you don’t have any big Christmas plans, would you want to come with me? My sister loves company and we can even get takeout afterwards. You know, just so you don’t have to spend Christmas alone?”

“Bucky, that’s very sweet of you. I’d love to. Your sister sounds amazing. I can't wait to meet her.”

“Great. Yeah Rebecca’s a fun time. She’s 98 and still smart as a whip. You’ll love her!”

“Okay sounds like a plan.”

The Crown Heights Senior Living Center knew how to throw a Christmas party, with Rebecca Barnes leading the charge on the caroling group and Bucky helping her coordinate the gift exchange.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had such a fun time, with a group of octogenarians no less.

“Wow Rebecca! How did Bucky keep a pet racoon in the attic for a whole week without your mother noticing?”

“Well that old Brownstone we lived in was solid. They don’t build them like that anymore. The walls were so thick it took her a while to figure out where the scratching noises were coming from.”

“Yeah well she also got suspicious when I swiped an extra serving of her meatloaf and ran upstairs with it right after dinner.” Bucky chimed in

“Speaking of, Becs they’ll be serving your dinner soon and we’re getting hungry too.” Bucky said, standing and giving his sister a kiss on the forehead

“Darling, it was lovely to meet you.” Rebecca said to you, then turned to her brother “James, please bring your girlfriend around more often, she’s a treat.”

You and Bucky smiled at her and departed the room, making your way down the tinsel decorated hall.

“Awe, she thinks I’m your girlfriend!” you teasingly commented, playfully smacking his arm

“Yeah well, literally every time I visit, she’s trying to set me up with a new nurse they’ve hired and she’s always asking me when I’m going to find someone nice to settle down with.”

“I think it’s sweet.”

“Now when I come back to visit next week, she’s gonna ask about you and I’m gonna have to break her heart and tell her I’m still alone and destitute. I…” Bucky trailed off

“What?”

“It’s a dumb idea.”

“What is?”

“What if we… look this might be crazy but. Would you want to, you know, pretend to be my girlfriend? Just come with me to the nursing home every once in a while on like holidays and things? Just to keep my sister happy. I mean she’s 98 years old, there’s not a lot left going on in her life and I’ve literally never seen her more excited.”

“Okay. This is either going to go really well or really poorly. Either way I wanna see it. So yeah. Let’s do it.”

You saw Bucky at work nearly everyday in the New Year, exchanging pleasantries and making small talk like all coworkers do. At the beginning of February, he brought up his sister again, mentioning that she asked about you and asking if you’d like to join him to visit her again on Valentine's Day. You agreed.

Bucky gave your front door three knocks and you swung it open to greet him, still fiddling with the clasp on your necklace as you got ready.

“Hey, I’ll be ready in a few.” you said as he entered your apartment, stopping in your tracks as you noticed the bouquet he held in his metal arm.

Pink roses, just like the one’s he’d brought Rebecca at Christmas.

“Oh these are for you.” he said, noticing your gaze traveling to them

“For me? But…”

“Don’t worry I have another bouquet for Becca.” he said, pulling an identical bouquet from behind his back “But at Christmas I told her I got you flowers all the time, so I figured I actually should, you know, not be a liar.”

“Not be a… Bucky, we are quite literally about to go see her and lie to her a bunch! You know, about us.” you gestured between the two of you

Bucky laughed and shook his head.

“Fair, but why lie about one more thing? And besides, I think I owe you more than just a thank you for doing all this.”

“Fair.” you said, mimicking his tone and taking the bouquet from him

As you filled a glass vase in the sink and placed the roses in it, Bucky stepped behind you, grabbing the necklace from where you had placed it on the counter and wordlessly fastened it around your neck.

A chill ran down your spine as his fingers fiddled with the clasp, finally connecting it with the hook and pressing his palm against the back of your neck to lay it flat.

“Now I know you aren’t just spending such a romantic holiday just visiting an old lady. What are your plans? James, how are you romancing your lady today?”

You and Bucky looked at each other nervously. You hadn’t really discussed backstory or any other thing she might want to know about your relationship.

“I’ll tell you later Rebecca, don’t want to ruin any surprises!” Bucky finally spoke up, and you made a point to reach for his right hand, intertwining your fingers with his like any couple might and put on an excited look on your face for the non-existent Valentines plans. His palm was warm as he rubbed his thumb in delicate circles around your hand.

“Oh good! Well don’t let me keep you kids too long!” she exclaimed, shooing you out the door of her room

“Okay we really need to discuss more backstory and stuff before we come here. She’s asking too many questions.” he commented as you walked down the hall

“Bucky, maybe this is a bad idea. Your sister is so sweet and I feel bad lying to her like this.”

“Hey, look, she's happy because she thinks I’m happy. We can call this off if you want, but I really think it’d break her heart if I tell her we broke up. Please, just a few more visits? Just so she doesn’t think I’m totally alone.”

“But you are.”

Bucky shot you a look that you’d only ever seen when Sam got on his nerves.

You gnawed at your bottom lip and gave it some thought, Bucky’s blue eyes staring you down. “Okay. But we need to come up with more of a back story. Let’s go grab a cup of coffee and set some ground rules?”

“It’s a date.”

Your eyes went wide at the word date.

“Sorry. It’s a ‘platonic coworkers pretending to date’ not-date.” he said with a grin

“Fine, but you’re buying.”

“It’s Valentine's Day, it'd be absolutely ungentlemanly of me to not.”

The coffee shop around the corner was decorated for the occasion, with heart-shaped foil garland cascading from the ceiling and a cupid chalk drawing taking up a large portion of the menu board.

The barista topped your hot chocolate’s whipped cream with red and pink sprinkles and Bucky chuckled at the foam heart she drew into the top of his latte.

Every other table seemed to be occupied by couples, all looking gooey-eyed at each other and whispering sweet nothings across the small marble tables.

You were so busy taking in all the displays of love that Bucky had to clear his throat to get your attention, arms stretched out behind you reaching for your coat.

“Oh gosh sorry.” you said, shrugging out of it as he placed it on the hook on the wall and then pulled the wooden chair out for you to sit.

“Shit, your sister is right, you are a good boyfriend.” you said

Bucky rolled his eyes with a smirk and took his seat across from you.

“Okay.” you said, placing your palms on the table in front of you “ground rules.”

“Right, if you want to add a third to the bedroom, it has to be Sam. We made a pact a while back, it’s a long story but sorry it’s the only way...”

“Bucky!”

“Shit doll, sorry! I was kidding! I mean kind of, Sam and I did sort of agree…”

“Bucky!” you cut him off “Look if you don’t want to take this seriously, then fine I can just go and call it here. This is for you and your sister after all.”

“No, dammit I’m sorry, you’re right. Okay, go ahead.” Bucky replied

“Well we need to establish a backstory. And know a little more about each other so it doesn’t seem suspicious.”

“Okay. You go first. Ask anything you want to know about me.”

“Okay um. What’s your favorite color?”

“Really? You think what’s gonna make us not believable is whether or not you know my favorite color?” he looked at you in disbelief

“I don’t know! What else do couples know about each other?”

“Not sure. I haven’t dated regularly since 1943. It’s blue, by the way. What’s yours?” He responded

“Purple. Is that your usual coffee order?”

“In the winter, yes. In summer, I go for iced coffee.”

“Okay. Um. I guess it might be more important to have some facts about us. As a couple.”

“Right. Like what?”

“Well like where was our first kiss? Or our first date?” you asked

“In Central Park under the Cherry Blossoms. I’m romantic like that.”

“Bucky you told her we just started dating in the fall…”

“Fine, in Central Park under the orange leaves.”

“Who said I love you first?”

“You, obviously” he replied

That made you roll your eyes “Why is it obviously me?”

“Do I seem like the kind of guy to be open with his feelings?”

“No, you're the quietest on the team. It took four months of me working with the Avengers for you to return my good morning greeting everyday with even a nod of acknowledgement.”

Bucky raised his eyebrows as if to say “see I’m right”

“Fine. What’s the most romantic thing you've ever done for me?”

“Decorated your Christmas tree while you were at work.”

“I didn’t have a Christmas tree.”

“Well since all of this is pretend, let’s pretend you did.”

“Fine. While we’re on the subject, what did we get each other for the holidays?”

“I got you that necklace.” he nodded in your direction to the string of delicate pearls he helped you put on earlier. In reality, it’d been a gift you got yourself for your most recent birthday, but you were fine with the alternate story.

“Fine. I guess I got you a Frank Sinatra album for your record player.”

“How’d you know I have a record player?”

“Lucky guess.”

“Is it because I’m old?”

“I mean, yeah maybe…”

He sat back in his chair, looking thoroughly unamused.

“Since I know she’s going to ask next time you see her, what did you do to woo me on Valentine’s Day?” you asked

“Took you to a coffee shop and got you pink roses.” he gestured at the cafe around you, a proud smile on his face

“You know what, it’s actually the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.” you said with a grin

“See, I am good at this boyfriend thing. What else should we know?”

“What side of the bed do you sleep on?” you asked

“Trick question, neither. I sleep on the floor because of my nightmares.”

“Bucky thats…” you trailed off

“Hey, it's something my girlfriend would know.” Bucky said so casually, as if he had not opened up to you and revealed something incredibly sad and personal about himself.

“Right. Um… what else do you and Rebecca talk about? That way you can think of things to weave into conversation about us that make us seem real.”

“Honestly, we talk a lot about our childhood. She helps me remember a lot of things I’ve forgot thanks to the, ya know” he pointed to his head

You nodded in understanding.

“Anyway, like last week she told me a story I’d totally forgotten about the time Steve and I snuck into the movies and when we got caught, we pretended we didn’t speak English to avoid getting in trouble.”

You listened as Bucky shared more stories about his life in the 30s and 40s, eventually laughing so much and talking so long, the cafe employees had to ask you to leave so they could close up for the evening.

He rode the subway with you to your stop and even walked you to your door as if he were really your Valentine’s date. You felt much better about seeing Rebecca again, confident now that you and Bucky could convincably appear as a real couple after today.

By the time Easter rolled around, you’d established a solid back story and even hung out with Bucky a few times outside of your work relationship to get to know each other better. You always loved every visit with his sister and hanging out with him felt easy.

You were, however, very nervous when Mother’s Day came. You’d finally be meeting Rebecca’s children and grandchildren, all of whom loved their Uncle Bucky, but loved Rebecca even more.

“You seem nervous.” Bucky commented

You had been silent but fidgety the whole subway ride from your apartment to the nursing home. Bucky, of course, picked you up at your front door every time you met, even though it was out of his way from his place to the nursing home.

“I am.” you replied

“Why? Becs loves you. She’s excited to see you again.”

“Yes but I’m meeting everyone else and it’s making me anxious.”

“Why?”

“Because they love you and your sister a lot. I want them to like me”

“I like you so they'll like you.”

“Bucky, you’re only pretending to like me! I love your sister, but it feels a lot easier to trick one old lady than to trick a bunch of people at once into believing we’re real!”

“Okay. First, I do like you. I promise, that part is not pretend.” You know he just meant it platonically, but it still made you blush.

“Secondly,” he continued “Rebecca is the sharpest person I know, so if she’s convinced, then they will be too.”

“I’m still worried they’re gonna find out and kill me.”

“Hey” he reassured “They won’t find out and they won’t kill you and even if they try, like they’re gonna get past me.” he wiggled his metal fingers in your face.

“She hasn’t said anything right? Like she isn’t getting suspicious?”

“Doll, take a chill pill. Even if she figures it out, it’s on me not you. I’m her brother, remember?”

“I know but Bucky she’s been so sweet and nice to me and I adore her and I don’t want to let her down!”

“You won’t, now just relax.”

Rebecca’s son, Scott, had prepared a fabulous meal and as you all sat around a table in the community room of the nursing home eating, her daughter Kim gave a beautiful speech about how Rebecca taught her to be a great mom and how loved she was by the family.

Tears sprung to your eyes at just how loved and revered this woman was and how lucky you felt to know her, even if it was under the false pretense of being her brother’s girlfriend.

Bucky noticed you getting emotional and placed an arm around your back, absentmindedly rubbing circles with his hand in comfort as Kim continued to speak. You shot him a look of thanks and winked at him as you saw tears welling behind his eyes as well.

After dinner had been cleared and dessert had been served, you were locked in a pleasant conversation with Bucky’s grandniece Jenny.

“I don’t know, maybe I should change my major…”

“Well, you’re young. Lots of people take years to figure it out.” you replied

“Uh oh.” she exclaimed, pointing toward the door “Looks like you’ve got some competition.”

Bucky was standing in the hall, deep in conversation with one of the nurses, who was throwing her head back in fits of laughter at whatever he was saying to her, and playfully touching his arm.

“Well, you know Bucky, he’s just… friendly.” you shrugged it off, trying to not let the interaction bother you

Jenny gave you a quizzical look, knowing that was a bold-faced lie and Bucky was the most surly and quiet person either of you had ever met. Except around you and Rebecca, of course.

“So tell me more about your thesis,” you said, directing the conversation back and hoping to distract yourself from whatever it was Bucky was doing

The subway ride back to your apartment was mostly silent, which wasn’t abnormal for him, except all you could think about was the way that nurse was with him, and more importantly, how he was with her. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her, how he had leaned into her touch everytime she placed a hand on his arm, how they had talked nearly the whole afternoon.

“So David told me he and Shelby are expecting.” Bucky said, finally breaking the silence

“David and …? Oh yeah, Scott’s oldest.” you said, still mentally trying to keep all of Bucky’s nieces, nephews, and their kids straight in your mind, having just met all of them in one go today.

“Yeah. Which means Rebecca is going to be a great-grandmother.” he continued

“Oh my gosh that’s right! That’s so great! Did they tell her?”

“Yeah. She was pretty excited. Then of course, she asked me when you and I are going to start…” he said

“Oh yeah? What did you say to her?”

“Told her we’d get to it eventually. That we were still enjoying being young and in love.”

“Bucky, you’re 106…”

A smile formed across his face and he shook his head.

“You know what I meant!”

“Well we’ll never fictitiously get around to it if you for-real flirt with nurses.” you snidely commented

“Ohhh not my pretend girlfriend pretending to be jealous!” he joked back

“I’m not jealous, Bucky, I’m just trying to keep up appearances. But I don’t blame you, she was cute.”

“Yeah she was.”

“Okay serious question, what if one of us gets into a real relationship?” you asked

“Why are you planning to?”

“No, I mean I wouldn’t complain, but I don’t exactly have any great prospects right now.”

“I don’t either.”

“Um, that nurse was absolutely a prospect.” you argued back

“Doll, will you drop it with the nurse already?”

“No. Look, if you want to be for-real happy and quit lying to your sister, I think you should ask the nurse out. This has been fun, but don’t let us pretending to date hold you back from an actual relationship.”

Bucky sighed and hung his head.

“Okay. When I visit Rebecca this week, I will ask the nurse out. Just to get you off my back about it.” he conceded

“Well just be sure to add in the fact that you have prospects lined up when you tell your sister we broke up, just to soften the blow.” you joked

“Wow, you make it sound like I have women out the door, just waiting in line for me.” Bucky joked

You could if you wanted, you’re a fucking catch, is what you wanted to say, but instead just chose to lightly chuckle at Bucky’s joke.

“I think I will wait and see if the nurse says yes and if she does, see how the date goes before breaking it to my sister. And if it goes bad, at least I still have you.”

“Wow, make a girl feel more special to be your backup plan, why don’t you?” you joked

“You know what I mean! Wait, you will still keep this up for me if the nurse says no right?”

You sighed.

“Yes. I’ve actually really been having fun spending time with your sister.”

And you, you wanted to add, but again, didn't.

“But I do want you to be happy, so I will sacrifice hanging out with the coolest 98 year old I’ve ever met if it means you get a for-real girlfriend and stop being a grumpy, lonely old man.”

“Thanks doll, you’re the best.”

Things at work got hectic that week and you didn’t see Bucky until midway through the next week.

You were sitting at your computer, combing some case files when Bucky snuck up behind you.

“So things got complicated…”

“Jesus, Bucky, don’t scare me like that!” you said, practically jumping out of your seat when he spoke

“Sorry!”

“Wait, complicated how?”

“Well I asked the nurse out. And she said yes. And apparently it was the hot topic in the nursing home all weekend. And my sister asked why I was two-timing you. So I had to tell her we broke up.”

Your heart sank at the thought of not hanging out with Bucky and Rebecca anymore.

“Okay. Well, we knew that might have to happen. And the nurse?”

“Her name is Maddie, by the way. And we went out last night.”

“And?”

“It went well. She was nice and it was fun and we’re going to go out again this weekend.”

“Bucky, that’s great. I’m really happy for you.” you replied, trying to truly mean it and push your own feelings towards the situation aside.

But your mind just raced with worry about how well it actually went. Did he mean it went well like it was an agreeable evening and they talked a few hours and went their separate ways? Or did he mean it went well like she got to find out if his lips were as soft as they actually look? It went well like they hooked up and had steamy sex and she got to feel how his toned muscles felt under her hands while he brought her to ecstasy the way you’d always imagined and … no. You needed to stop. It was a bad idea to think about him that way. Especially since he now belonged to someone else, and never really belonged to you in the first place.

“Doll, I really can’t thank you enough.” Bucky spoke and broke you out of your spiraling thoughts “Rebecca had so much fun with you and you know… I think pretending to date you might have actually given me the confidence to ask Maddie out. Don’t know if I thought I could be a good real boyfriend without being a good fake one first.”

You laughed and shook your head.

“Well I’m happy to have helped. And by the way, yeah you were a phenomenal fake boyfriend. Better than most of the real ones I’ve had.”

You tried not to let the tears come to your eyes that you could feel brimming to the surface. You were just sad to say goodbye to Rebecca, that’s all. She was so special and spending time with her was a gift. It helped that Bucky was also so charming and funny, but it was absolutely just about Rebecca. Afterall, you’d still get to see Bucky at work. You wouldn’t really talk as in-depth as when you were with his sister and hanging out in service of keeping up the lie, but it would be fine.

However, much to your disappointment, it seemed like after that conversation, Bucky avoided you like you two had actually been a couple and actually broken up. He wouldn’t look you in the eye during mission briefings, wouldn’t say more than two words to you and they were always related to work, and if he ever found himself alone in a room with you, he quickly found an excuse to leave.

It had been about two months since you had “broken up” and you had given up hope of even having any sort of friendship with Bucky. But the truth was, you missed him. You missed making fun of him when he made a reference so outdated, historians wouldn’t even get it. You missed the way his smile rose more on his right side when you’d crack a joke. You missed when he’d sing along to one of Rebecca’s records and try to dance with both you and her at the same time, inevitably spinning you into each other and ending in the three of you in a fit of giggles.

You tried not to think of it though, threw yourself into work and tried to forget. But you couldn’t. Everything reminded you of him.

And you tried not to think about how much you missed him as you watched him walk onto the ramp of a quinjet, prepping to take off for a ten day mission to take down a Hydra base in Latvia.

Six days later, you were in your apartment, making your evening cup of tea when your phone rang.

You picked it up and put it down three times before finally processing that it was Bucky’s name popping up on the screen. With the time zone difference, it had to at least be three in the morning where he was.

“Bucky?” you finally answered “Is everything okay?”

“No. Doll, it’s not.”

“What happened? Are you okay? Is Sam okay? Did something go wrong?” you panicked, knowing of all the hundreds of people the Avengers employed, you were not the person to call if something went wrong with the mission.

“No, it’s Rebecca. She um…” Bucky sounded on the verge of crying and your heart broke in an instant “Kim called and Rebecca is in the hospital. I didn’t get all the details, but it’s not good.”

“Bucky, I’m so sorry.”

“Listen, I know I’ve already asked so much of you, but can you please… Can I ask you to go for me? Go see her? Sam and I are trying to wrap up as quick as we can, but I just can’t bear the thought of not being there with her and she loved you so much and I know you being there would really mean a lot to both of us.”

You had never heard Bucky ramble like that before. His voice was shaky and unsure and it broke your heart.

“Okay. Of course I can go.” you replied without hesitation. You loved Rebecca too, of course you wanted to be with her.

“Thank you. So much. Really. I’ll text you the room number and the hospital. I’ll let Kim and Scott know you’re coming too.”

“Okay.”

“And um… I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For how it’s been lately.”

“Bucky, It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. But um, we can talk more when I get back.”

“Okay. I’ll go see her now, just text me.”

You were pulling on your shoes already when Bucky’s text came through. You were out the door and to the hospital in less than twenty minutes.

Kim greeted you with a big hug when you arrived.

“Oh, she’ll be so excited to see you!” Kim said, leading you down the hall of the hospital towards Rebecca’s room “You know, she still talks about you all the time even though you two broke up a while ago.”

You tried to bite back a smile, not wanting to feel happy in such a grim situation. But knowing at least Rebecca missed your presence and made sure Bucky didn’t forget you lightened your mood just a little.

Any hint of a grin was knocked off your face as soon as you stepped in the room. Rebecca was looking quite different from when you last saw her. Usually so healthy and spry for her age, she looked frail in the thin hospital gown, laying limply in the bed in the middle of the sterile room. Her gray curls were not in their usual coiff, but unkempt and wild. Her eyes looked sallow and dull. But her beautiful smile still came through when she saw you walk into the room.

“Oh my dear!” she reached out a shaky hand toward you. “It is so good to see you!”

Her hand wrapped around yours and she patted it a few times.

“How have you been? Oh, I’ve missed you! You know I was just saying to James the other day, it was a shame he let such a gem like you go.”

“Rebecca, that’s very kind, but how are you? Are you resting? Are you feeling better?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I was fine, but the nurses at the home, they called an ambulance and made me come here!”

“Mom, you passed out and your heartbeat was at 22 bpms!” Kim interjected

Rebecca waved her hand, then turned back to you.

“Where is James? Did you come with him?” she asked

“No. He’s away on a mission, but he’ll be here as soon as he can. He asked me to come see you until he could get here.”

“Oh that’s so kind of you. You know, he really loved you. I could see it every time he looked at you and every time I’d ask about you he’d talk and talk. I told him to hold on to you, but, well my brother never wants to listen to me!”

“Mom!” Kim interrupted again and you couldn’t help but chuckle. Even in this state, Rebecca’s personality was still shining through.

You caught up a little more, filling Rebecca and Kim in on your life since you last saw them.

Finally, Rebecca’s eyes kept closing mid-sentence and you and Kim left her to get more rest.

As you and Kim walked down the hall of the hospital together, she filled you in more on Rebecca’s health and explained that Scott and Jenny were also taking shifts visiting, currently hanging out in the waiting room down the hall.

“Sweetie, it’s getting late, let me give you some money so you can get a cab home.”

“No, Kim, I’ll stay here with you guys tonight.”

“You don’t have to…”

“Please? Just until Bucky calls again. Maybe by morning we’ll have a better idea of when he’ll be back.”

Kim nodded and gave your arm a light squeeze in thanks.

The waiting room was small and featured dated furniture and peeling wallpaper set under the glow of harsh fluorescent lights. Scott was asleep, curled in an uncomfortable position in a chair in the corner. Jenny flashed you a tired smile as you entered. You sat on one of the worn couches and laid your head back, attempting to drift off into sleep.

The night was rather restless, dozing in and out, but never really getting pulled into sleep fully. Between the buzz of hospital employees rushing about, the cramped sleeping arrangement, and the worry chewing in the pit of your stomach about both Rebecca and Bucky, it was far too difficult to get solid rest.

Would Rebecca be okay? How would Bucky act towards you when he got back? Would things go back to being friendly between you as a thanks for being there for his family or would he simply continue to ignore you and act as though this also didn’t happen?

You must have finally gotten to sleep, because you were pulled out of slumber by a metal hand squeezing yours and a soft calling of your name by a familiar voice.

Your eyes shot open to find Bucky, crouched down in front of you, face meeting yours as he gently woke you. Despite the exhaustion painted on his face, he was a radiant light in the otherwise dim environment.

“Bucky!” you sat upright and pulled him into a tight hug

“Hey Doll.” he said, squeezing you so tightly you thought you’d burst like a can of Pillsbury Crescent Rolls.

“How did the mission go? When did you get back? Have you been in to see your sister yet?” you asked

Bucky shook his head.

“We can talk about the mission later. Thank you so much for being here.”

“How is Rebecca?” you asked

“I… um. I don’t know. I just got here and came to see you guys first.” he nodded toward the sleeping forms around you.

“You should go see her. Hopefully she got plenty of rest over night.”

Bucky shook his head some more.

“I don’t know if I can… she’s the last thing I have of my old life. I don’t know if I can bear to see her like that.”

“Bucky, she needs you. She wants to see you, she asked where you were last night.”

Bucky sighed, wetness welling in his worn blue eyes.

“I’ll go with you.” you volunteered

“Doll, you’ve already done so much. I can’t ask another thing of you.”

“Please, Bucky, I want to be there for you. And for her.”

He nodded and took your hand in his flesh one, helping you off the couch and not letting go as you walked down the hall together towards Rebecca's room.

She was sitting upright in bed and her face lit up at the sight of you and her brother, nearly spilling the applesauce the nurses brought her for breakfast into her lap.

Bucky finally let go of your hand, giving his sister a hug much more gentle than the one he gave you.

“Oh James, you know you didn’t have to rush away from work just to come see me!”

“Becca, yes I did!” he smiled

“Well, your girlfriend had things covered here.” she gestured towards you

“Oh, Becs no, we’re not back together.” Bucky explained

“Oh? But why not?” Rebecca asked

“It's not important right now. What’s important right now is getting you healthy.”

Rebecca smiled and shook her head.

“James, it is important right now. I’ve lived a lot of years and I’ve learned the most important thing in life is holding the ones you love close to you. I learned that when my big brother ‘died’ at war. I learned that when my children grew up too fast and moved away. I learned that with every grandchild born and held in my arms. And I learned that when you came back into my life after so many years.”

“Rebecca…” Bucky spoke, but she held up her hand to cut him off.

“I don’t know why you two broke up or what happened. But what I do know is how much the two of you clearly love each other. Look, James, I’m old. I know I don’t have much time left. But you, you have a life to live still and running away from the good things is not what your baby sister wants for you.”

“Rebecca, this is a conversation for her and I and another time.” Bucky argued

“You know for being my older brother, you sure aren’t wiser than me.”

“Wow, even sick in the hospital, still trying the younger sibling thing.” Bucky joked back

A knock at the door took the three of you from the conversation as a cheery nurse stepped inside the room.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I need to run a few tests the doctor ordered. It’ll only take a little while.” he explained.

Bucky sighed and gave his sister a kiss on her temple, then gestured for you to step out with him.

Once in the hall he finally broke down completely, the stress of the past few days catching up to him.

You cradled his head in your arms as he sobbed, knowing the longer the two of you stayed like this, the longer you could put off having a conversation.

“Can we go for a walk?” he asked, finally calm enough to stand and wipe the tears from his eyes

You nodded and took his hand again, leading him out to the front of the hospital into the sunshine.

A few open benches along the sidewalk provided a place for the two of you to sit. Still, it took a few minutes for Bucky to finally speak up.

“I’m sorry I let it get like this between us.” Bucky mumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear.

“Bucky, please. We don’t have to do this right now. You should be worrying about your sister, not me.”

“No, Doll, Rebecca’s right.”

“Yeah?”

“About everything.” he nodded his head “About life. About us. But don’t tell her I said that, or she’ll never let me live it down.”

You giggled.

“I wanted it to be real. Not at first, but after a while. When she tells you a story about us as kids and you smile at me the way you do. Or when your eyes light up when I make up a lie about the latest romantic thing I did. I wanted it all to be real. And I still do.”

“I wanted it to be real too.” you confessed “But if you wanted that, then why did you not just ask me out for real instead of Maddie?”

“Because, like Rebecca said, I was running away from the good things. I was scared that after everything I’ve been through, no one would stick around knowing all of that about me. But then you did, and it scared the hell out of me. And I wasn’t sure if I was reading it all wrong. Asked Maddie out as an excuse to push you away. I thought maybe avoiding you would make me get over it, but it didn’t, it just made me miss you.”

“And Maddie?”

“We went on a few dates and it was fun, but of course, I kept her at a distance. Didn’t want to let her in like I did with you. So she broke it off with me after a while.”

You chuckled and shook your head.

“You know, the leaves in Central Park aren’t quite orange yet, but it’s still a nice time of year for a first date there.”

“Yeah. It is. For real this time?”

“For real this time.” you agreed “But let’s worry about getting Rebecca healthy first.”

“I bet if we go up and tell her we’re back together, she’ll run out of that room and steal a cab just to make sure we make it to Central Park today.” he joked

You softly pressed your lips against his, feeling him melt into your kiss as the tension between the two of you these last few months finally evaporated.

When you finally pulled apart, you realized now you were the one crying, relieved that things between the two of you worked out.

Rebecca was released from the hospital a few days later, new medication bringing her health back into balance and making her as vivacious as ever. She was even well enough to join you and Bucky in Central Park for your 8th date, though she didn’t know that, as you and Bucky decided it was best not to tell her about the lie even now. And of course, when Bucky and Rebecca stepped out of the cab on 5th Avenue, he held two bouquets of pink roses in his hands.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #fatws #mcu #marvel fic #bucky x fem reader #trope de sept #trope #fake dating

[cottoncandyafterdark]

Kunikida SFW Alphabet

Character(s): Doppo Kunikida (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Tags: SFW, fluff, alphabet meme, headcanons

Warnings: None

Notes: Originally posted on ao3 here; uses an a different SFW alphabet template than I usually use as this was the first one I ever did

A = Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

We all know Kunikida has a lot of criteria for the ideal partner, and you might not necessarily fit all of them, but he will love you for any of those traits you do have.

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

He'd probably say your eyes or something nice and romantic like that but in his heart of hearts, Kunikida is a leg man through and through

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

He's pretty low-key about cuddling; usually he prefers to just sit with you with his arm around your shoulders, holding you close. He also likes to hold you while falling asleep, and prefers to be the big spoon.

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Something traditional and romantic. Dinner at a nice restaurant, followed by a walk through a park. He'd rather it not be too crowded, if that's at all possible to achieve, so he can just focus on you and on making the night as enjoyable for both of you as possible.

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

He has a tendency to not show strong emotions unless they're negative. He'll definitely let you know if he's angry, one way or another, but it takes a bit more work to coax a smile or laugh out of him. It comes a little easier than normal around you, though.

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

Kunikida has multiple pages dedicated to the topic in his ideals notebook.

He'd like to have exactly two children- he doesn't mind whether they're adopted or biologically related to him-, preferably by his mid-to-late 20s. He knows he doesn't have any control over the gender of his children, but having one girl and one boy would be ideal. He has a shortlist of acceptable baby names, and will not deviate from it. He will let you pick what name from the list to give your child(ren), though.

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?

Kunikida isn't a spontaneous gift-giver- he'll get you gifts at Christmas, on your birthday, Valentine's, etc. but not really outside of those occasions. He might give you flowers if you're going on a date, but that's about it. He just prefers other ways of showing his love for you.

He does try to make sure those gifts he does give you are good, though. He pays attention to things you want but can't or don't get for whatever reason throughout the year and you can bet you'll be getting some of those things for Christmas or your birthday.

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

Hand-holding is one of the few acts of affection Kunikida is willing to do in public. He likes holding your hand a lot, because it feels nice, and it has practical benefits as well. It's a simple way of showing affection and displaying that the two of you are together, plus it's harder for the two of you to get separated. The way he sees it, there's no real reason not to hold hands.

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

He'd be very concerned, of course. If it was a life-threatening injury he would take you to Yosano, but he'd rather not subject you to that, so if it's serious but not immediately life-threatening, though he would take you to the hospital and, once you were home, would make sure you were resting and recovering properly. Expect a lot of scolding along the lines of "don't do that, you'll tear your stitches". It might be annoying but it's just because he cares (and he's probably right, anyways).

J = Jealousy (do they get jealous?)

He doesn't get jealous, exactly, because he trusts that you'll just turn down anyone who's flirting with you, but he does get irritated and intervene if they persist. Not because he's worried they'll take you away from him or something but because they have the nerve to keep bothering you after you've rejected them and he does not stand for people being so rude to you.

K = Kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

I hope you like sweet, gentle kisses because Kunikida sure does. That'll likely be how he greets you every day when he gets home from work. You can also expect a quick peck on the lips whenever he leaves. Or whenever the mood strikes him, really. He's also a fan of neck kisses when things get a little steamier- but that's a discussion for a different time.

L = Love (how do they show you they love you?)

Kunikida is surprisingly big on physical affection- only when you're alone in private and have been together for a respectable amount of time, of course, but still. You'll get plenty of gentle kisses and quiet moments sitting together with his arm around your shoulders.

He'll also tell you he loves you plenty- again, once you've been together long enough that he feels it's appropriate. After he says it the first time, though, and you return the sentiment, he gets much more comfortable saying it often.

M = Memory (favorite memory together?)

Any time that you comforted him. His job can really take a toll on him, and when you try to make him feel better it really lets him know that you care about him. Remembering all those little moments makes him feel very loved.

N = Nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

There's two potential scenarios that he worries about: the first is that he'll get killed on a job and leave you alone without even getting to say goodbye. The second is that you'll be attacked and hurt or even killed by the Port Mafia or one of Agency's other enemies. He's well aware that both are very real possibilities, too, and will do everything in his power to ensure neither one comes true.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

Well, it's Kunikida. You're going to have to get used to his scheduling and notebooks pretty quick. He doesn't do spontaneous- all your dates and stuff are going to have to be planned in advance pretty much down to the minute.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)

Your name, mostly. Pet names just aren't his thing, really. If he's in a particularly romantic mood, he might let a few slip, like "my love", "darling", "dear", stuff like that.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

He likes to cook with you. Even if you're not a very good cook, hell, even if he isn't, you will learn together and it'll be so worth it when you two finally get it right.

Outside of that, he's happy just to sit and talk with you. You can tell each other about how your day went, any books you've read or TV you've watched, anything, really, so long as you can hold a conversation.

R = Rhythm (what song reminds you of them?)

Kunikida seems like a fan of what I like to call Dad Music- American rock from the 70s and 80s. He doesn't understand the lyrics, since they're in English, but he doesn't mind that- if anything it just makes it easier to listen to it while he works or focuses on something else. So you'll probably end up associating that type of music with him. (Sharp Dressed Man by ZZ Top stands out in particular though, for hopefully obvious reasons.)

S = Secrets (how open are they with you?)

Kunikida doesn't want to keep secrets from you, he really doesn't. But it's kind of inevitable in his line of work, especially if you aren't with the ADA yourself. He can't always let you know exactly what he's been doing, either because it's classified or, more personally, because it's dangerous and he doesn't want you to worry about him. Outside of those work-related matters, though, he tries to be as open as possible. Communication is the key to a good relationship, after all.

T = Time (how long did it take you to get together?)

It took A While, mostly because it took a pretty long time for Kunikida to figure out that not only did he have feelings for you, but you returned those feelings. Once he figured that out, though (possibly with some "help"- read, relentless teasing- from Dazai), he didn't waste a lot of time in asking you out.

U = Upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

Kunikida isn't the most comforting person by nature. He'll try to get you away from whatever's making you upset first and then stay with you as you calm down. He might not say anything, but if you need him to hold you or something like that he will.

If you're upset at him, though, it's a slightly different story. Arguments with him are pretty rare, but they can easily get very heated when they do happen, and he'll probably need to leave you alone for a few minutes to calm down. Once he's calm, though, he'll come back and try to talk it out.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

He doesn't exactly show you off, he feels like that would be immature, but make no mistake, he is proud of you and your relationship. If you make any kind of major advancement in your life, like getting a promotion, he will be so proud of you.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

This probably depends on your circumstances a little- if you're with the ADA or have otherwise shown him you're capable of fighting, he'd presumably know you're more than capable of holding your own and do what he could to back you up in a fight.

If you aren't a good fighter, though, he would do whatever he had to in order to keep you out of a fight. He doesn't want you getting hurt and you can bet he'd fuss at you a lot if you Leeroy Jenkins'd into a fight anyways.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?)

Kunikida is not great at reading people, though it might come easier with someone he's very close to like you. Still, you'll have to be upfront with him about how you're feeling. He'll be able to tell if you're really upset about something but might not be sure what you're upset about; just tell him and he'll try to help. (He isn't super comforting by nature, either, but he'll try.)

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?)

After you had been dating for a few years, he would take you on a date- most likely what was described in the 'D' section, dinner at a nice restaurant followed by a walk through a park. This wouldn't be the first time you've gone on such a date, but you would be able to tell right away from how he's acting that something is different about this time.

He would propose at the park. He'd wait until no one is around- he doesn't want you to feel pressured by a public proposal- before dropping to one knee and popping the question. He'd be nervous as all hell, but of course that would disappear as soon as you said yes.

He'd start planning the wedding pretty much immediately, if he hadn't started already. He'd want your input on everything, of course, but unless you decided to really take charge he'd definitely be the most in charge of planning.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?)

Getting to go home and sit or lie down next to you. If he's had a particularly frustrating day he'll vent to you about it too but you don't even have to say anything, just your presence is enough.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd kunikida #kunikida doppo #kunikida x reader #bsd headcanons #bsd x reader #old fic

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

hi!! can you recc some fics set between 4x10 and 4x14, aka what happened behind the scenes that lead kurt and blaine to the car makeout after their christmas in new york?

Hi - you asked! There's a long list to follow, most are reaction fics to the episodes. ~ Jen

4X 10

Baby, It’s Cold Outside by whyitisyou

Kurt and Blaine end up spending the Holidays after their first break-up together in New York. They use the time to talk and they have to deal with the fact that they still feel warm about each other.

~~~~~

If The Fates Allow  by flaming muse

Blaine is feeling a lot of things. He adds cold to the list.

canonical, set just after 4x10 (“Glee, Actually”), no spoilers beyond

~~~~~

If the Fates Allowby Keitorin Asthore

Blaine desperately wants to do something, but he’s at a loss. And then Burt has a favor to ask him. Reaction fic to the Kurt plotline in “Glee Actually.” Klaine. Oneshot. COMPLETE.

~~~~~

Soliloquy By flamingmuse

The clock says it’s two-thirty-six in the morning when Kurt finally decides he isn’t going to sleep. He sits up slowly on the couch and rubs his hands over his face. His limbs feel heavy with fatigue, but it’s not just physical exhaustion that weighs on his shoulders tonight.

Dialogue-free, angsty Kurt introspection set during Glee 4x10 (“Glee, Actually”) in the wee hours of Christmas morning.

~~~~~

Time to dissolve by misqueue

Set over episode 4x10 "Glee Actually". There's little about Christmas this year that Kurt would choose. That's not necessarily a bad thing. A story of family and friendship and transforming grief into hope.

~~~~~

Are We Ever Gonna Be Okay Again? by @justgleekout

An alternate timeline in which Kurt did go to Lima for Christmas and he and Blaine had that much-needed heart-to-heart.

But uh-oh! It's angst and they cry.

~~~~

Merry and Bright by SiderumInCaelo

Kurt and Blaine, ice skating.

~~~~~

Missed by BlurglesmurfKlaine

Super short (like blink and you'll miss it) reaction fic I wrote immediately after Glee, Actually aired because I have a LOT of feelings about that episode.

~~~~~~

May your days be merry and bright by ShanleenKinnJaskey

Blaine surprises Kurt with his Christmas gift, and of course there's singing, kissing, and ice skating.

~~~~

Pocket Dial by nachochang

Blaine and Burt have a series of phone conversations that result in Blaine going to NYC for Christmas. Post-Ep for 4x10, Glee, Actually.

~~~~~

4.11 Sadie Hawkins

Fragile Gifts by @wowbright

4.11 reaction. Blaine loves three different people in three very different ways.

and

Unexpected gifts By @wowbright

4.11 missing scene fic. Tina takes Blaine home from the dance. She's quite the gentleman even though she might rather be a rake.

~~~~~

Seneca Falls, Selma and Stonewall by flaming-muse

Blaine watches the inauguration alone in his house, a bowl of microwave popcorn cooling on the coffee table and a glass of soda fizzing gently by his hand.

set in the canonical present, so assumes through 4x10 (“Glee, Actually”) with no spoilers beyond, takes place on January 21rst, 2013

~~~~~

You Are Here and So Am I by Edwardina

Glee kink meme fill. Takes place circa 413. Blaine and Kurt are in touch. Kurt senses Blaine is down and manages to wheedle out of him that he has a crush on Sam. Kurt can sympathize because he’s been there. Their conversation about Sam morphs and Klaine end up having a pretty hot phone sex session.

~~~~~

One More Night by trufflemores_Glee_fic

Blaine has a crush on Sam. It’s not subtle.

~~~~~

Reassurance by NikkiEvans

A short phone call between Kurt and Blaine reveals why Sam is Blaine’s crush. It has a lot more to do with Kurt than anyone realizes. OneShot 4.11 reaction fic.

~~~~~

4.12 Naked

Bare by Flaming_muse

Kurt and Rachel get a surprise package in the mail from Tina.

set in canon, episode tag for and spoilers through 4x12 (“Naked”), with no spoilers beyond

~~~~~~

Those stumbling words by misqueue

Set between 4x11 "Sadie Hawkins" and 4x12 "Naked". In a phone call after the Sadie Hawkin's dance, Kurt has something to tell Blaine. For klaineadvent 2013

And I breathe   by misqueue

Set during 4x12 "Naked". Lonely, Blaine goes to Scandals looking for a human connection, but what he finds isn't what he expects.

~~~~~

I'll be Looking at the Moon by misqueue

Blaine's surprised when Kurt texts him after his first date with Adam. It didn't go how Kurt expected. Set around 3x12 "Naked" and immediately following And I Breathe".

~~~~~

Tiny Imperfections By @wowbright

4.12 missing scene +. No teacher tells Blaine to go see Ms. Pillsbury, and his boyfriend doesn't drag him there. But he goes to talk to her anyway, because he wants to.

~~~~~

Long way home by pene

It can take a little time to find your way home. Warning: Finn’s death is referenced throughout the story.

This is alternate canon, splitting off somewhere around Glease. It is a love story foremost, but some chapters are possibly a bit sad, particularly the first one.

~~~~~

Less Than Decent Exposure by @lady-divine-writes

Rachel and Kurt get a copy of The Men of McKinley calendar in the mail from Sam. Its arrival is met with mixed reactions. Rachel is fine with it, Kurt is appalled…until Rachel directs him to two months in particular - January and December.

Written for the Klaine Advent Drabble prompt ‘indecent’. Takes place during the episode ‘Naked’.

~~~~~

4.13 Diva

Diva Love Fest by Flowerfan

After Blaine sings “Don’t Stop Me Now,” the Glee club reflects on his Diva-hood and, as Artie calls it, his "sexy stylings."

Support by trufflemores_Glee_fic

Blaine isn’t having the best week, but it’s improving.

~~~~~

4.14 I do

Best to look at the library tag for this one! Lots of choice!

It's Too easy By insighfulinsomniac

Missing Moments/Episode Expansion of 4x14 “I Do.”

Kurt was confident that he and Blaine could have a repeat of Christmas — a shared holiday and a sweet duet that means nothing more than two friends enjoying each other’s company. That lasts about as long as one duet practice session at Blaine’s house the night before the wedding.

After that, it’s all too easy for Kurt to reach out for Blaine, to re-establish a connection that’s never truly left them.

And maybe, just maybe, it might change things between them. But one thing’s for sure — as much as he wants to pretend it’s not true, Kurt still loves Blaine.

~~~~~

Shut me up and tie me down by milopoli

A peak behind the curtains of hotel room 206 after Will&Emma's wedding reception aka a Klaine smut fic in three acts.

~~~~~

Thought you should see this by slayerkitty S&C sign in needed

This is a combination reaction fic to 4.15 and 4.16, then goes completely AU for 4.17 onward, though I do incorporate some spoilers for 4.18 (One section of this will talk about there being a possible school shooting at McKinley - I don't go into detail, but if this is triggering for you at all, please don't read it). Ultimately, this is a Klaine reunion fic. This is a combination reaction fic to 4.15 and 4.16, then goes completely AU for 4.17 onward, though I do incorporate some spoilers for 4.18 (One section of this will talk about there being a possible school shooting at McKinley - I don't go into detail, but if this is triggering for you at all, please don't read it). Ultimately, this is a Klaine reunion fic.

~~~~~

A Ton of Twitterpation by @wowbright

Kurt has coffee with Adam the day after he gets back from Lima. Kurt notices that the barista has a crush on Adam, and Adam notices … well, you'll see.

~~~~~

Voice of Experience by flaming_muse

For once, Blaine knows something Kurt does not.

set within 4x14 (“I Do”), with no spoilers beyond

~~~~~

Shining Down for me by misqueue

Set within 4x14 "I Do". Kurt comes home for Will & Emma's wedding

~~~~~

Blaine Absolutely Knew He Was In Love by  Corriebird

“Blaine steps forward and whispers in Kurt’s ear, "If it’s not exclusive, then what’s to stop you?” Kurt’s eyes flare and he inhales sharply, so he steps back and heads to the bathroom without looking back. This is what life is, right? This is what it means to be alone, to be lonely. Taking what you can get. Sucking the marrow out, even if it’ll break your heart later.“ 4.14 fic!

Also

99 Perspectives on a Single Love story By @spaceorphan18

The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

Chapters 54 The Photographers (Glee actually)

Chapter 55 Tine Cohen-Chang (Sadie Hawkins)

Chapter 56 Brody Weston (Naked)

Chapter 57 The Sychophants (Diva)

Chapter 58 Marley Rose (I Do)

Chapter 59 Adam Crawford (Girls and Boys on Film)

~~~~~

Enjoy!!

#klaine fanfiction #fic finder #reaction fic #4X10 #4X11 #4X12 #4X13 #4X14

[rosalind-hawkins]

Hihi!! Seto Kaiba for the character ask 3 and 7?

Thank you for asking! Answers for this post and still taking asks if anyone else is interested!

3. What was their best canon look?

I'm actually quite tied between his Duelist Kingdom outfit (I love it so much I have my own version of it for myself, as just regular clothes) and his white suit from season five (is just so slick and professional). Obviously his upgraded dueling outfit in DSOD was awesome and extra, but I like to think more about what Kaiba wears day to day. The Duelist Kingdom outfit is the closest we see him get to being casual ever, and unless I'm mistaken, the first scene we see that outfit is when he's working on the Duel Disk prototype. It's the outfit he picked for fiddling with his tech in his own home, and that makes it feel more personal, in a sense. This is what he wore when he was alone and not necessarily trying to impress anybody, and we don't get to see that part of Kaiba too often. (And in my Rock Bottom series, this is the outfit I have him in from halfway in Season Zero up through the end of Season Two, so this one is almost def my fave based on that.)

7. What do you think they would appreciate as a gift?

I had to triple check this one because I kept getting it mixed up with 5 and I was like, "wait, I already have something written for this, don't I?" and the answer is true for both, actually.

The thing about Kaiba is, he can already have whatever he wants. That's the worst kind of person to buy a present for, because you think, "Well if he wanted this, he would have gotten it for himself already, yeah?" And that's not necessarily true with Kaiba. He doesn't make time to take care of himself or enjoy himself, so a gift geared toward that would be very appreciated from a loved one. So I think secretly planning a vacation for him (Mokuba or Ishizu) or custom handmade BEWD art of some kind (Ryou) would be really nice for him. In the past I've usually written Joey as giving him *ahem* certain sexual experiences *ahem* as a present because Joey doesn't pretend he can give Kaiba a good gift, but he does know that he can show him a good time.

Another thing that would be sweet and specifically thoughtful imo (and this feels like something Duke would do) would be to look at the years that he was either in the orphanage or with Gozaburo, track down the systems and game copies for the best games that came out during those years, and spend a few weekends with him playing the games he missed out on during the time that he most needed them. Make sure that time is blocked out on his schedule and just have fun.

In Power of Three, well before Ryou and Seto get together, Ryou gives him a Christmas card with a single serving of tea inside, and at the time he's Kaiba's first actual real authentic genuine sees-him-as-a-real-human-being, talks-literature-and-philosphy-with-him-over-coffee FRIEND, so he's just touched way more by it than Ryou realizes. The gift is part of Kaiba's new experience with genuine friendship. It's just a little thing, but coming from Ryou, it meant something.

I have actually spent a lot of time on this question before and written a few of those scenes. And that was a really long answer to two simple questions, sorry about that! 😅

For fun, I'm including a snippet from my old Euroshipping fic Tainted Love below, where Ryou gives Kaiba a handmade BEWD sculpture for Christmas, it elaborates on it being a good gift for him (besides the obvious reason).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Go ahead, open it. But be careful: it's fragile."

Intrigued, Seto tugged away the ribbon, peeled back the wrapping paper, and removed the lid of the box. He lifted away the flat piece of styrofoam and lifted away a few layers of tissue paper—then stopped, eyes wide in genuine surprise. As carefully as he was capable of doing so, Seto extracted his gift from its nest of protective wrapping.

"Did you make this?" he asked, voice so quiet that Ryou could hardly hear him above the sound of the fire.

"Yes." Ryou swallowed nervously, then continued, because Seto's silence unnerved him, "I started working on it a while ago, and the first few attempts kinda sucked because I was out of practice. I got some higher quality paints to use on it too, and because I know an art major who owed me a favor, I was able to bake it in a proper kiln. I was afraid that it might not be ready in time—"

"It's beautiful."

"Thank you." Ryou'd never heard Seto so soft-spoken before. He'd heard him whisper, but that was different from this. Even after all the time they'd spent together, the brunette's current expression was one that Ryou'd never seen and he didn't know how to interpret it.

"It reminds me," Seto said slowly after a brief pause, "Of when Mokuba made the Blue-Eyes card for me when I was a kid."

Ryou perked up a little. He'd never heard this story before.

"We'd been here for less than a month, and I already hated it." He traced his index finger over the delicate details of glossy porcelain wings. "He made that card to encourage me, because we weren't allowed to see each other. That's how he saved me, and that was also the day I swore I would own a real Blue-Eyes White Dragon card, since that was my first one. I'm not the type to accumulate objects because of the sentimentality attributed to them, but... I still have it."

"It brings back good memories, I hope," Ryou murmured, tucking one arm under Kaiba's and giving it an affectionate squeeze.

"Indeed it does."

When Kaiba began to set aside the wrappings, Ryou released him and let Kaiba stand, standing up with him. Kaiba carefully set the hand-made, ten-inch painted sculpture of the Blue-Eyes White Dragon on the center of the inset shelf above the fireplace that served as a mantelpiece. It's mouth was open, each of the teeth pointed as it screeched at them, its wings spread behind it as it gripped the rocky crag that formed the base of the statuette. It's eyes caught the light with a brilliant sparkle.

"Are those... real sapphires?"

"I couldn't find or make a shade of blue that could do its eyes justice." Ryou ducked his head bashfully.

"You really shouldn't have—"

"Don't worry about how I got them," Ryou interrupted, trying to put Seto's mind at ease. "The only hard part was setting them in his eyes so that they didn't look out of place."

#asks #seto kaiba #kaiba seto #thanks for the ask! #joey wheeler #duke devlin #snippet #my writing #ryou bakura #euroshipping #musings

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

New Records, New Beginnings

A/N: Y’all I haven’t posted a story on here in four months. Four months. I’m genuinely sorry but also first semester of college high key kicked my ass. So here’s a little Christmas gift from me to you, and yes it’s a bit cliche but Hallmark-y type things are what we all love around the holidays (don’t lie, you love those stupid chick flicks too). Hope you guys enjoy! Pairing: Gerard Way x F!Reader Word Count: 2,852 words Warnings: A lot of fluff, like a lot of fluff.

You had spent most of your Saturdays like this, and nothing much had changed.

You would go out around midday after lunch at home, spend time shopping around whether it be physically buying something or just window shopping. It was a way to destress and reward yourself after a week of work that you felt was much deserved.

The only difference now was the increase in people shopping. Around late November and early December your usual shops became more crowded with people trying to find the perfect Christmas presents for everyone they knew. You were at least smart enough to have already completed your shopping for everyone in the first week… except your dad.

The guy who may have been your favorite person in the world also happened to be the one who was hardest to shop for. You loved him dearly, and while yes he did have a wide array of hobby on the spectrum of being a dad, it didn’t make it much easier to shop for him.

So you had landed yourself in a few record stores today, trying to find any album he would like. Generally he wasn’t that picky on music, he loved lots of artists and bands, but combine that with your mentality of record buying being “you better listen to it” and the task was becoming increasingly harder by the second.

You didn’t necessarily notice anyone around you, it was relatively busy given it being a record shop, maybe six to seven other people in the shop, but you were on a mission to find one of the few records you knew was actually worth spending money on given your fathers listening habits. You were also trying to draw away from buying yourself anymore records, given the two you already had snug under your arm.

Gerard, on the other hand, was like any other holiday shopper. Except he managed to be even worse.

He never shopped for Christmas gifts ahead of time, it was always about a week before when he started. He scolded himself every year for doing it, but never found himself changing the habit. So here he was, rushing into a record store and desperately trying to find this one damn record his dad wanted for his birthday… that happened to be tomorrow.

He didn’t scan around, take in any of these new surroundings, instead he promptly led himself to the cashier’s desk, nearly pleading to see if they had it.

“One copy left,” The older man from behind the counter said. He reeked of being pretentious based off of this record hobby, something Gerard found ridiculous when everyone was doing it now. “Back left corner.”

“Great, thanks.” He quickly made his way to the far left aisle and all the way down to where he was instructed to go, eyes scanning over the different bookmarks in-between each album marking a new artist or new letter of artists. He looked up, thankfully seeing you only about three feet away to put the breaks on his legs, but was met with ultimate grief and defeat.

Of course you had to be looking at the same album he needed. And of course, you placed it under your arm with the rest of your records.

So, he had one of two options here: One was to go home defeated, show up tomorrow with some lame card he got at a pharmacy for his dad, and get scolded at by his mother for not being more on top of these things. Second was to approach you, talk to you, and just see if you were willing to let him have it.

But he was bad at talking to girls. Like, really bad.

It was something his friends had joked about before, how he would much rather be reading or drawing than ever talk to a girl. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to (although many times he really didn’t) it was that he felt like he couldn’t. Women were just… hard.

“Um, excuse me.” He spoke up, nerves bundling in his stomach. Hoping this would be an easy interaction for him, he saw you turn around and instantly he regretted everything. You weren’t just a girl… you were a pretty girl. A very, very pretty girl.

“Hm?” You hummed a bit with your eyes growing a bit wide in curiosity. Wow, those eyes, he thought to himself, never seen that color before.

“I’m, um, not trying to be rude or anything,” He began nervously, “But my dad’s birthday is tomorrow and I’ve literally been to four other record stores and no where has the record he wants. This one only has one and you have the last copy so I was wondering-“



“Sure.” You replied before he could even finish, moving your arms a bit to reach for the one you had just grabbed, snugly fit close to your body. “It’s for Christmas anyways, for my dad too, but I have more time to find another one.”



“Really?” He asked, somewhat amazed that you would give this to him, and somewhat amazed that he could speak to you. “I- I really appreciate this, like you have no idea, really.”



“It’s totally fine.” You tightly smiled, “Besides, if not that one I’m sure I can find another one my dad might like.” He nodded.

“Um, thanks again.” He said with a kind smile and mini bow of appreciation which you chuckled at before he walked back to the register.

“Just this?” The same guy at the front asked him. Gerard nodded, placing the record on the counter and searching in his pocket with his other hand for his wallet. “I’m surprised you didn’t at least ask her out.” He mentioned as Gerard grabbed his card from his wallet, head shooting up.

“Excuse me?” He asked.

“I mean, not only were there clearly some sparks, but she gave up the record to a total stranger.” The older man explained, “That’s a new level of nice.”

Gerard looked back briefly at where you were, still browsing but approaching closer to the counter, before awkwardly clearing his throat and swiping his card. As soon as it was approved, he removed it, placing it back in his wallet and grabbing the bag.

“My advice, kid,” The man continued, “Don’t waste up an opportunity like this. The worst she can say is no.”

Gerard stood there for a brief moment stunned, and wondering what to do next. Yes, this stranger had a point about you, but the thought of asking you out despite the fact he really wanted to seemed beyond his ability. But then again, he did ask you for a record. That’s the same thing, right? You could’ve said no then and you could say no now, but that’s the worst that could happen.

With no actual foreseeable good outcome, Gerard retraced his steps to finding his way back to you. This time, you seemed more attentive as he approached you, looking up at him with those same stark eyes again. “I just wanted to say thank you, one last time.” He began, “You really saved me from having to deal with my mom scolding me tomorrow.” You lightly chuckled.

“It’s no problem, really.” You admitted, still with a smile on your face.

“Is there anyway I could pay it back maybe?” He asked, trying to put on some level of confidence, “Like coffee, maybe?”

You seemed a bit taken aback by his request, but after a brief moment of thought, responded, “Sure.”

Gerard could feel his muscles release their tense holding as he took a small breath of relief. “Great, uh, could I get your number, maybe?”



“Yeah, of course.” He handed you his phone as you typed it in, handing it back to him. Y/N, it read, fits her.

“Okay, well, see you soon, Y/N.”



“See you soon-“



“Gerard,” He finished ahead of you.

“Gerard.”

“Are you ready, Gee?” You asked from the front door, throwing your keys in your bag and awaiting your boyfriend to appear from the living room.

“Yeah, just a sec.” You could hear the frustration of him fighting with his boot echo throughout the hallway, a rough sigh following afterwards in frustration. “Here.” He finally said after a few more seconds, walking down to you and grabbing his coat from the rack.

Just a year or so ago you would have found it a pretty large disruptions to your average Saturdays had another person been mixed into that equation. But now, Gerard comfortably stood by your side riding along your Saturday activities. He didn’t mind it much, more than happy to play the cart-pusher and attempt to control your irrational purchases, like buying every Christmas scented candle you could get your hands on, or anything that had some sort of a dog or cat on it.

But he found some peace in just walking by you and getting weekly errands done plus having some fun while doing it. He had learned to try many new things on these adventures: tofu for the first time, a face mask, and honey barbecue chips were just a few. But it seemed like most items you gravitated towards said something small about you, which helped him to learn all about you quicker.

It also happened to give him a lot of ideas for presents, which was helpful this time of year. He had already found you a couple hoodies you had fallen in love with, a new pair of slippers, and a few other smaller items, leaving the bigger ones to be more creative and thoughtful.

“I haven’t been here in forever.” You remarked, pulling into the space right in front of your local record store.

“I know, right?” He replied, “It’s just so easy to buy this online.”



“True,” You agreed, shutting the engine off, “But at least local stores have cooler, older things that aren’t crazy upcharged.”

“Also, true.” He smiled, getting out of the car and waiting by the edge for you to get out too.

One nice things about record stores is that they never change all that much. Everything was basically the same here as it was last time, which led to a much more relaxed experience looking through each section. Aside from a few new titles and artists, almost everything sat as it was.

Gerard always kept a close eye on you in these situations. He had learned little hints you gave as to when you wanted something. Eyeing it for a bit longer than usual then gasping a bit, excitedly showing him something with a fun fact about it, maybe even blatantly just saying you wanted it. He kept a mental list of all the things you had wanted, trying to make an effort to check off every one (well, almost, bigger things like a dog were for a later discussion).

But here, in the record store where he met you and you him, where you had managed to save him from a hell of a scolding from his mom, his eyes stayed practically glued to your fingers as you scanned each title, lingering on some for longer than others. He stayed like this a good few minutes but keeping his distance and hoping you wouldn’t notice. He had eventually resorted to sneakily walking around and picking out records you wanted or ones he knew you liked. Again, the mental list of these artists stayed glued to his mind.

He had realized relatively quickly that his hands were getting full. He had picked out six or seven right now and hadn’t even made it a third of his way through the store. He took a sigh, looking back to make sure you were occupied and not looking anywhere near the register, before walking up and placing the records down on the front counter. “Would you mind just holding these behind the counter while I look around a bit more?” He requested, “My hands got kinda full.”



“No problem.” A slightly familiar voice echoed, Gerard looking at the older man behind the counter who was smirking, looking between Gerard and you.

Not thinking much of it, Gerard went back to his shopping habits, picking out record after record. He had gone up for another drop-off trip before you finally approached him, “Hey hon.” Your voice spoke up behind him. He quickly turned around, looking down to see the gorgeous woman he got to call his. “I didn’t find much, I was planning on going to the Target here to grab a few things but it still looks like your shopping.”



“Yeah, I am a bit.” He admitted with a small smile, “Go on without me, I’ll meet you there and pull the car closer to that lot.”



“Ya sure?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowing as they always did when you seemed to genuinely care. He smiled even more with a nod.

“Yeah, I’ll be good here.” You nodded back, giving him a kiss on the cheek before leaving the store.

Despite the distance making Gerard grow slightly more uncomfortable, and despite the fact he knew well that you were just a few store fronts away, he obliged to the opportunity before him and quickly collected every other record he knew you would want. The ridiculous figure holding at least half a dozen records under each arm was a man in love, every customer silently knew it. Because no one would buy that many records. That was a new level of head over heels.

“All set?” The cashier asked, the wrinkles on his forehead curling up as his smile grew, the question sounding more rhetorical and satire than anything.

“Uh, yeah.” Gerard awkwardly responded at the realization that he looked just a bit like a fool. The pile of albums in front of him stared right back as one by one they were scanned and placed into bags. He questioned how he would just sneak them by you, and with no avail to any answer.

As the total rang through his ears, he quickly slipped his card out of his wallet, handing it over firmly and not turning back. The cashier inched a smile, inserting the card into the machine. “So, things are going well?” He asked. 


“Yeah, ya know, life’s going alright-“



“Especially with the girl.” He commented back before Gerard could finish.

“Yeah, uh, really well.” He awkwardly chuckled at him, his lovesick state clearly clouding his vision at times.

The card reader beeped, allowing the older man to remove the card with the receipt and hand it back to Gerard. “Hey kid, do me a favor.” He requested, Gerard quick to nod his head and grab the bags, “When you guys are considering a song for your first dance, come to me and I’ll buy it for you two on vinyl.” Gerard turned to flustered as his eyes went wide in a moment of shock.

“Oh, um, I’m not sure-“



“You’ll be there.” He smiled from, clicking his ben against the desk, “Trust me.”



“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” Gerard mumbled into your hair as you stood by your Christmas tree together. It was by no means Christmas, a couple days before, still, but you wanted to make sure to open all of your presents before you each went to your own families for the holiday.

“You too, hon.” You smiled back, tucking further into the arm draped over you his hand rubbing the small of your back. “Presents?” You asked cheerfully, he nodded back with a smile plastered across his face.

“Presents.” He declared back.

It had been a solid 15 minutes of ripping open the wrapping-covered boxes before hitting the last one, one which specifically Gerard requested you do last. You could tell by the shape alone that it was a record, a new one on top of the other stack of new ones next to you, but as you slowly ripped it open you realized what it was. You let out a small laugh as your fingers gripped the side of the two records.

“It’s supposed to make up for last year.” He briefly explained. You looked up at him and smiled.

“It’s perfect. Now I can actually give my dad this.” You replied, “But what about the second one?”



“Oh, I figured you give one to your dad, and then we keep one on hand.” He continued, “It was what caused us to meet.”



“That’s very poetic, Gee.” You softly said, standing up and walking over to his spot on the couch. You cupped his face lightly, leaning down to give him a soft kiss on the lips, which he gladly accepted and he moved his lips against yours. “I love you.”



“Love you too, sweetheart.” He smiled up at you, his hands now gripping your hips. “I figured we could put it up on the mantle somewhere, make sure it’s seen.”



“Sounds perfect.” Your hands delicately ran through his messy hair as he let out a purr of sorts in response, “Even if we never spin it, it’s perfect.”

#gerard way #mcr gerard #gerard way fanfiction #my chemical gerard #gerard way x reader #gerard way x you #gerard way x y/n #my chemical romance #My Chem #my chemical gee #my chemical romance x reader #mcr #mcr fanfiction

[kylekozmikdeluxo]

Special Interest Timeline: Retro Games

I'm on a retro games special interest kick, and in my previous post on said things, I talked about how - in the mid-aughts - I really got into games made in the 1970s and 1980s... In the early 2000s.

And I got my history a little messed up when writing about it, so I shall do... a timeline!

Mostly for my sake!

I'm one of those autistics who tries to keep a whole-ass timeline about my special interests... When I got into it, what got me into it, how long it took me to take the next step and discover more things about it, etc....

My love of retro games stemmed from a childhood of playing simplistic MS-DOS shareware games in the late '90s. Games off of floppy disks, like HUGO'S HOUSE OF HORRORS, COMMANDER KEEN 2, CRYSTAL CAVES, WORD RESCUE, CD-MAN (a PAC-MAN clone), SKI FREE, and more... I also forgot to mention that I had a hand-me-down NES in the '90s as well...

Again, going off of my previous post, I mentioned that it kinda starts in the early 2000s. I want to say approximately 2002/2003?

Christmas 2002: I get a GameBoy Advance and SUPER MARIO ADVANCE 2. SMA2 contains a really good port of SUPER MARIO WORLD, originally released in 1990, and an updated version of the 1983 arcade title MARIO BROS. I don't know if this necessarily kicks off the special interest, but it definitely plays a big part in it.

Late 2002/Early 2003: This is approximate. A guess. Around this time, I went to my local swimming pool every mid-week, or something like that, with my father. Afterwards, we'd stop for a bite at a nearby diner. They have a MS. PAC-MAN machine in the vestibule. One day, I watched someone doing really really good at the game. I'm reminded of the old DOS games I loved so much. Around this time, I was obsessed with what year a piece of media came out, so upon seeing the "copyright 1980, 1981" on the attract mode of the game, I had learned something new: Arcade games like that dated back to the 1980s.

Throughout 2003: Going to arcades wherever I went (i.e. bowling alleys, restaurants, etc.) and seeing at least one retro arcade game there. A lot of the time, it was one of those MS. PAC-MAN/GALAGA "Class of 1981" cabinets that were pretty new at the time.

Christmas 2003: I'm given two plug-n-play retro games collections... This is where it all *really* takes off...

The one on the left is the Jakks Pacific Namco set, which contains PAC-MAN, BOSCONIAN, RALLY-X, DIG DUG, and GALAXIAN. Pretty solid ports, all things considered. This I got on Christmas Eve, and I remember that night trying out all the games... And I played the living daylights out of this thing after that...

The one on the right was a bootleg, a Frankenstein's monster-like controller system concoction that were sold in malls and on QVC and the like. My grandmother got that one for me, and it contained a cartridge containing 84 various Famicom and NES games. These "Famiclones" were common back then and it was a side-market that only mutated over time. Luckily, this was one of the less egregious ones, and it had an assortment of NES games I couldn't get elsewhere. The hand-me-down NES we had no longer worked, so this was a worth substitute... Take out the cartridge, there's 10 built-in games that are basically Famiclones. Weird thrown-together 8-bit games of origin I'm unaware of at the moment.

Early 2004: Near my dad's place is a warehouse selling arcade machines and cocktail tables. While they didn't allow customers to play the games, they did - somehow - make an exception for me. I visited a few times and loved it, it was like paradise to my 11-year-old self. I'm sure the guy running the place wanted us OUT, haha.

Next... This is going to sound super-nerdy, but upon doing very well in a spelling bee around February/March and winning... A $200 gift card to... Circuit City! Yes, upon a winning that gift card, what do I buy? Retro game collections!

I believe I got NAMCO MUSEUM and MIDWAY ARCADE TREASURES on one of the shopping trips, in addition to the GameBoy version of NAMCO MUSEUM, PAC-MAN COLLECTION, and KONAMI COLLECTOR'S SERIES: ARCADE ADVANCE.

I visit the website System 16 and KLOV (Killer List Of Video Games) quite frequently, too.

Also around this time, I get my hands on an Atari collection for the PC called ATARI ANNIVERSARY EDITION. I also receive a book called THE ULTIMATE HISTORY OF VIDEO GAMES by Steven L. Kent.

SUPER MARIO ADVANCE 2 is in regular rotation around this time.

Fall-Christmas 2004: For my birthday and Christmas, I get...

ATARI ANTHOLOGY for the XBOX, and another Jakks Pacific Namco collection, this time including MS. PAC-MAN, MAPPY, GALAGA, XEVIOUS, and POLE POSITION. I also get this fantastic coffee table book by Rusel DeMaria and Johnny L. Wilson:

I'll cap it off here, but this is where it peaks, and I'm all about these kinds of things from here on out.

#retro games #retro video games #light nostalgia #reminiscing #autistic #special interest #autism #neurodivergent #making my special interest INTO a special interest

[talenlee]

Game Pile: Free Stuff!

I talk about games all the time but I am also crucially talking about commercial products. When I talk about TTRPGs or videogames, I’m usually talking about games that you can’t play for free, and that’s a bummer. I don’t like the idea that my writing about games primarily requires some degree of effort or money on your part to check, as it were, my working.

But there are some games I played this year that are free, and I think are interesting and cool and I’d like to make sure you know about them. In the tradition of Decemberween Twenty Twenty Threen, this Game Pile Post is just about a handful of freely available games that I like and want to recommend you try out.

I remember one year I made the Game Pile articles entirely games you could play at parties with friends for no money, like I had some kind of idea of how a Christmas gathering should go. My upcoming Christmas gathering is going to feature someone recovering from COVID though, so like, it’s on my mind how close I don’t want to sit to anyone.

Anyway, free games!

Hey, did you see this game going around a few months ago? Suika Game, or Watermelon Game if you wanna translate the Japanese, is a game in your Tetris and Threes genre. It’s playable for free in your browser, it’s very moreish and it’s also very aesthetically pleasant.

You don’t need to know anything about this game to play it. You can play it once and then know immediately if you want to try it again or strive to win it, or if you never want to see it again. It’s what I think of as a snack game — something you can chew through while you’re doing something else, like recovering from a rough day but when you’re not necessarily hugely engaged with something. Plus, unlike the more tidy games like Threes and Tetris, the fact this game is sloppy and erratic means you can always try to cover for a mistake with more sloppy, erratic play. Sometimes you’ll just get lucky and two things you hadn’t quite expected will tap one another and a chain reaction transforms the play state.

Time to time, now I know about this game, I will revisit it. I mean, to just get the screenshots for this article I just needed to show up and get a screenshot of it in a modestly complicated state, right? But I didn’t have a good screenshot so I went to play it a bit, then take a screenshot.

I wound up playing the game to a fail state four times before realising I was forgetting to get my screenshot, and took this screenshot, which, if you’re attentive, you will realise is of a fail state.

Corker of a game!

I am never going to have it in me to do a proper, comprehensive game pile about Moonring. It’s such a vast seeming game, it’s so dizzying in its scope, and, at least right now, it’s available for free.

If you don’t know what Moonring is, I kind of don’t either. Moonring is, to me, an Ultima-like RPG, with a complex text parser and an intricate world full of people who are looking for magical words or combinations of words to unlock particular pieces of lore. But that’s while there’s also actually an adventure RPG going on. It’s not just an enormous, elaborate, spatially differentiated videogame to what you might be used to, it’s one you have to learn how to experience.

I don’t think Moonring is for me, but it feels like a game that you should be aware of. It’s got the vibes of being someone’s favourite. Have you tried Dwarf Fortress? It may click for you in a similar way.

I liked Devil Express. It’s a short ish adventure, the kind of thing you can beat in one single session. It has a very deliberate pace and a particular type of comedy to it. The basic idea is that you’re a delivery wolf, named Worf, who has been sent by work to go do deliveries at a single location, doing ‘freelance deliveries.’ The way this works is basically a dialogue maze, where you spend time going around multiple stories of a building, talking to people one at a time, and connecting people’s needs to their gifts, you know, the kind of thing. It’s like a ‘use keys on doors’ kind of puzzle solving you may remember from other adventure games of the ilk.

I won’t spoil it! I thought it was fun, funny and charming! I liked the way that Worf handles the increasing weirdness of things and is used as a way to demonstrate to you what’s weird to Worf, and what’s normal to Worf. A wolf that does door to door delivery? A demon that runs a business? A flying eyeball? A teleporting gargoyle? Some of these things are strange, but really, Worf is just trying to get through the night and finish the job, y’know?

You might have seen the card game Orchard in board game stores, and you may have even seen it kicking around on review channels that like to talk about board games. It’s a cool little game, in the vein of a solitaire puzzler.

Did you know you can just have it?

For free?

Orchard has a completely free print-and-play version available. You have to print it if you want to play it but that’s kind of obvious, right? The game presents you with a growing puzzle that you lay dice on, and if you have d6es and a printer, you have everything you need for this game. Heck, if you have an older relative, and you might want them to start getting into puzzles as low-impact ways to enjoy themselves while also keeping their brains going, you could do worse than print this game out and make it for them, as a nice little craft project.

Eh?

Ehhh?

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#Game Pile #Games

[the-firebird69]

I've never heard something so compelling in my life as that speech he said so I can send him five dollars and he said we'll probably just eat out and I'll end up paying the tip with it and so I'm laughing because that's funny but really we don't even get to talk and it's not right so I'm going to send it I want to see who's stopping it here and what gives them the right to stop it it's the post office he's a righteous email especially for me he says I'm Joey fetterman and I'm a friend from back east and I never stopped being a friend and it's true I have other characters in mind his friends with in the mall I'm friends with him I want people to do this and he wants Ken to get off his fat ass literally the thing is gigantic and protect his assets by sending him five bucks or something and I get that that's funny

Bg

I guess you're right I'm going to start this and he says he thinks that someone sent him a card and it's true it's from the health insurance so I won't be the first which is good

Ken

The messages he already has health insurance and he doesn't need people sending him cards or gifts for Christmas stuff and we told John Gallagher last year not to do it he did it anyways no he was told not to and we kept telling him now he's saying we should probably send something because they're saying it and I'm telling them not to and he ends up shooting someone that he cares about no we have been very clear with people they were telling you not to send stuff to him I know who I am and where I am and I'm at a Mac

Macs

It is a Mac and it's not me they do say this kind of thing to people now and then the ones stopping it and they're doing it to all sorts of people and I want to send him some money on one of his uncle's and he says it would be nice to hear from family I don't have to isolate myself cuz I don't anyways and I understand that and he was friends with his mom and his mom couldn't handle it and got wrecked and they did it to her on purpose and they keep doing that kind of thing to him and he stayed away from family because of it he doesn't want to be committed to a ward and that's why he wants some funding so he can stay out of there or he can go in there and go to a house he doesn't have to put up with that stuff as much and it's illegal to put people in the hospital like that and I could not believe it when they started doing it it is very mad he's almost insanely mad about it it doesn't care for these macks at all and he knows me. It's a lot more than what people think and he's helping our cars and he does not want us to fight each other and it's terrible he says we're on the circus here and just two circuses Loomis and vitamin Bailey and we have to look at that and see what the issues are is there a utilizing things like that and it's weird it stuff that's obvious and you should be able to fix it if you find out and people are amazed when they see it's true

Mac Daddy

We're going to go ahead and start writing some checks now I do understand what you're saying usually the money stops and there's a big fight and we take it so the max don't have it and start to become assholes some of it they got and boy you should see what they're up to they do things like trying to deliver nuclear weapons using the money and paying UPS you would not believe what they're up to so we do build homeless shelters and we do build things for people to stay around with and we do send money to some people who need it and they're not necessarily ours and we do House people and we can prove it and we're going to apply his idea to habitat idea for people to have apartment complexes and we're going to start ASAP and one of the big reasons he says is we have suppliers and materials and we're going to have distribution systems that will keep in business and open some more and use this concept of having people come in together to work on the apartment and even have 10 cities next door and we will help provide food and we'll help provide placement and we're going to open factories that are fun and ridiculous and they will become more professional but to start they're going to be places where people don't feel as much pressure like Meghan Markle had we have a lot of stuff that we can build with ride a lawn mowers you would not believe the kind of things that we're coming up with one of them and you'll be interested in and we want to convert it once we have a sales base and I will have you guys buy most of them for your effort is the H4 bja went the wrong way and our son kind of flipped out and told them the wrong thing but he said that it should be the number four recently because it's smaller and we're eventually going to build a the chassis are you guys will and it's going to be a square chassis and other vehicles are coming out like that already even super vehicles supercars and mega cards too they found it's very strong and easier to build and the H4 would be built originally on certain lawn mower 650 or bigger and you change the wheel system to extended and you lengthen it and it will have a bigger tires not huge and you saw the picture the side step thing is not as big but it looks like that and they look really cool and they have highest performance suspension just like a Baja vehicle and that's what they look like and we we almost insistent people enter into it he wants us to have a lottery it doesn't really go as it sounds it's not a lottery like you have a chance in The hunger games or something it's so you put your name in and you see if you qualified and we're going to start doing that and we're going to start doing the apartments we like to do it with habitat but they don't seem to want to do it and they're busy and we want to do it in their areas and others so we're going to have some in theirs and we're going to house their people and it's really not apartments it's condos and they own the place and they say we don't really mind we're going to be doing the work and we're going to be building it and it also need to figure out what the deal is and he said that's not a bad deal so he's got some places that want it and really they need it bad we have a new system of building and new materials but that'll have to wait it's probably going to be wood but the way we build it's good for like a hurricane level eight

I'm going to start trying to send stuff to our son there's nobody who should be in the way and you have no right to be in the way and his family took a beating trying to help him and they still are and it's not fair that they should do it on their own he's requesting people in DC to send his family some things and to try and go through people that know him and that know her and to make sure that they are aware of what it is and then it's properly scanned and things like that but they should have a good Christmas just for going through this and even people like Lily and Jason who have a nasty plan if they can get off it would be nice and Garth and his sister and if Stan and Sherry they need stuff if your friends I'm actually let it through so it looks normal but really they need a lot of help they need to know you're there it's a very cold cold place here he says so I'm going to finish with that

Thor Freya

We do appreciate it and if our friends and family could that would be great and will send you a card or send you something but we're in need here we don't have things we need we need cold weather gear hats and gloves and jackets long underwear wool socks and boots and emergency blankets and things in case it gets real cold if it freezes out here wearing a lot of trouble and we don't have it down here if you can send it now that would be great if you can open the store down here too that would be terrific we're trapped in Charlotte county and we can't get out and we can't get in and the more locker doing the same thing it's disastrous

Stan

Olympus

[whythewords]

Days 340 - 359: You just have to make it

It's Christmas. I made it to Christmas. From the sheer amount of super-bummers in that last post, it feels nice that I am here, seemingly on the other side of it. I mean, the bad and sad thoughts come and go, that's sort of been the theme of this whole year of journaling and beyond. But it's good to remember to enjoy the calm and quiet spots.

It was a nice, quiet Christmas, something that I honestly would have been less excited about last year. This whole "cuffing season" thing, whatever the fuck that means, led me to believe last year that I had to be partnered up with someone around the holidays or that it was somehow easier this time of year. Actually I might have made mention of that in the last post or some other recent one. It definitely does sting to not have a special someone to share these days with, but they are, ultimately, just days. I also recall a particularly difficult bout of loneliness around last Christmas, even when things were still pretty fresh. I was at my uncle's place, on the apps just fucking having inane, unsuccessful conversations with people I had nothing more than a passing interest in.

This year I was at that same uncle's place, more present, hanging with my cousins, catching up with people I admittedly don't see or speak to as often as I should, even playing a little guitar for everyone. It was nice. It was calm. It was small. That was Christmas Eve. Before that, I had my birthday/annual acoustic show thing here at my folks' apartment. That was also small, but it was nice as well. The day and following morning were nice and quiet on a count of me sending my folks away for the night (which turned out to be not necessary seeing as everyone ended up leaving before 11pm). The set was fun but it's kinda an afterthought to me. Seeing some friends, making some fancy cocktails, heading downstairs onto the street with a few folks to get a little high, those are the things that helped coax me outta the fog I had been in during the weeks prior.

There'd been a bit more than the usual amount of communication with my former partner, and I had been dangerously close to backsliding. I've spoken here a lot about progress and this whole journey since the beginning of the year (and really the separation before that) being about how much progress I've made. I've observed over the last few weeks in particular that it feels like the progress was reset. On more than one occasion, some friends here on tumblr and outside of tumblr have reminded me that progress isn't necessarily linear. The point is continuing and moving to the next thing. Well, as much as I do appreciate and agree with that sentiment, I was definitely doing some things that were greatly hampering what I would call the progress that I have made over the last year and a bit. I was doing my best to steal myself to endure the difficulty of that as I progressed through a particularly stressful last few weeks of school, and made it to my birthday as if it was some sort of checkpoint that I could reach to safeguard myself from the events of the past. I shudder to think that the dating thing might have actually served well as a distraction from that stuff, because it certainly wasn't helping either, and it feels good to be free from it at this moment.

Either way, I made it. And then I made it to Christmas Eve, and then to today, Christmas. Another quiet one, though it usually is. Exchanging gifts with my folks and my brother after a nice brunch here at home. Recovering from the insane amount of food and drink over the last few days...and continuing to eat junk food regardless, as Christmas ought to be really.

The anxiety about jumping back into the real world has begun to dissipate too. My friend urged me to reach out to the city offices where I did my co-op, which admittedly I should have done already. But the point is I did do it and got a reply and prospects seem hopeful.

I'm as at peace as I've been in a long time....except for the whole upstairs neighbours thing. I've mentioned that here before I believe, we have some obnoxious neighbours who seemingly have parties every weekend into the wee hours. Usually I can drown it out and just throw on a podcast in my headphones but they were particularly insane on this Christmas night, stomping and yelling and loud as they've ever been, I'm pretty certain my desk was shaking. If this post is a little disjointed it's because I was back and forth with my dad waffling about what to do before finally deciding (after literal months of this) that enough is enough and we should call security. Seems quieter now, but we'll see for how long. You know you're old when.... "Damn kids and their loud music!" Ah well. At this point I embrace the inner old curmudgeon.

Which brings me finally to the future: When I was typing in the day number for that title of this post I had a legitimate "oh shit" moment realizing that the end of the year of our lord 2022 is less than a god damn week away. I'm happy to say I have some plans for new year's eve. Less calm, but still pretty convenient considering they take place at a friends' apartment just a short walk away. No fussing with Ubers necessary for the evening (barring some insane weather.) These days should be enjoyed. I'm trying to to allow myself to do that.

It's almost done and it'll be alright.

#life of joe #not so daily journal

[bimswritings]

White Christmas

Warnings:None

Summary: Wholesome dad Din teaches Grogu a few things he can do with snow.

My contribution to the gift exchange in @starwarsfandomfests for @bluedaddysgirl . It was originally intended to be two pics, but I made this and my writer brain couldn't help but think of a story behind it! Still might post the other one later this week. I hope you enjoy!

Christmas had always been a special time of year for Din. Not necessarily for the holiday itself, but the time surrounding it. It held nothing but happiness and warmth in each memory associated with it. As a child, before he was adopted into the covert, it was a big celebration on his home world and especially in his family. Everyone from both sides of the family would come over to his house, be it cousins, great aunts and uncles, or even grandma Elle, who nobody knew how she was related to the family, yet never second guessed her presence with any event or invite.

The weeks before would be spent playing with his friends in the relieving cool air or the normally scolding planet, even playing in the occasional snow that managed to fall every so often. It was never much, just enough to cover the ground in a layer of thin white blanket, but enough for them to still manage to make and nail each other with snowballs, always leaving every kid on high alert for a surprise attack. Their town even held a snowman competition when there was enough every year, one of which he proudly held the title to for years in each age group.

And when it grew too dark, or his fingers and toes became numb with the chilly air that sent his face flush, he would head back home. Back to his mother, who seemed to always have a warm drink or meal just as he trudged through the door. She would give it to him at the table, along with a kiss that warmed him just as much. Almost like magic, and he would accuse her of having secret powers for years.

On particularly cold nights in the very middle of the cold months, they would all curl up near the fire. He would be cradled into his mother’s side while his father slung an arm over the both of them, tucking them both in as he read aloud from one of his many books that lined the shelves. On those nights, he would fall asleep to the baritone of his father’s voice, only stirring as he was carried to bed hours later.

But that was all so long ago it may have been another life entirely. Ever since he had been taken in as a foundling, Christmas had never felt the same, though the older ones did their best for the holiday, knowing how important it was to many foundlings and others from the covert whose families celebrated. On Nevarro, there was never snow and it was always just a tad too warm for comfort, yet the situation of their subterranean living allowed them to have a communal fire lit in the common area, though he could remember for a number of years they had used the forge of the Armorer. It had been quite a sight to see her normally dark and intimidating space transformed into a place all the children and even adults would gather to socialize and laugh. There you could also find a tree covered in dozens of handmade ornaments from the younglings at the school, as well as some donated by others for the season. All around there would be decorations hanging from every level the kids could reach, growing more sparse as the higher places grew out of their reach.

Presents had never been that important to any of them, more than content with the festivities and treats the kitchen managed to produce, but they always made sure each youngling and foundling had something to open on the morning of, with the adults trading in between themselves. Paz was always the most involved with this, making sure everything was checked off and nobody would feel left out. If there were ever any time where there was no one to get anything for a child he would take it on himself, sometimes having a dozen children to get for. He never complained a whisper, pulling from his own personal funds to get arguably the best gifts, though the Alor told him it would be more than fine to pull from the tribe's treasury.

Despite their best efforts to make it feel warm and inviting, he had always felt worse this time of year, still haunted by his family’s ghosts. He would never be able to celebrate with them again. Never hear the booming laugh of his uncles as his father made them all laugh with his wit, nor the voice of his mother calling everyone into the kitchen to eat. Instead, he locked himself away from the others in his room, later taking on every chance to escape the covert when he became a provider for the tribe, which led to his current situation, crouched under the control panel as he sneakily wrapped the stuffed creature in cloth.

The bright colors of the mysterious form had caught his eye in the market earlier and he knew it would make a nice addition to the Grogu’s collection. The Armorer had insisted he bring the child with him on his supply run, and though he felt guilty taking him when the festivities at the covert would be much more enjoyable for him, he didn’t put up much of an argument. The child had become the closest thing he had to a family outside the clan. Though he still had yet to officially claim him, everyone considered the child to be a part of his clan despite his claims he was just watching over him.

Old habits die hard, he assumed, cringing as he looked at the poorly wrapped gift. It was a good thing he would be more interested in the plush inside rather than his poor attempt at wrapping. Speaking of…

“Grogu?” He called out, his voice echoing through the warming ship. They were just preparing to leave the planet, which had the audacity to assault him with biting air and freezing temperatures, yet provide no snow.

He stood, ready to find the trouble maker. It wasn’t like he was expecting an answer, the child still had not spoken a word that made a lick of sense, but normally he would still make some sort of noise to let him know where he was at. Yet the longer he searched, the more panicked he grew.

“Grogu? Grogu!” Looking under every shelf and in every nook and cranny, he still couldn’t find him. Just about ready to go into full out panic mode when a breeze caught his attention, creeping in and exploiting every opening in his clothes.

Whipping around he saw that the ramp was indeed open, cracked just enough for a little gremlin of small size to slip through. Slamming the ramp’s lever, he was greeted with a face full of cold air and the relieving sight of his worry standing just a dozen feet away. The red hat given to him by one of the elders made him stand out against the white surrounding him, ears sticking out from the holes she had meticulously knitted into them.

“You can’t scare me like that.” He scolded, scoping the child into his arms, though he gave no acknowledgement to the sudden change in altitude. He was too fixated on the world around him. It still didn’t stop the Mandalorian from lecturing him.

“It’s dangerous out here. Why would..you..”

Din slowed, finally realizing what had the child’s attention.

All around them was a world of white, covering every inch of ground and clinging to the bark of the trees surrounding them. A storm must have blown in while he was taking a nap, preparing for the long flight back.

He had been to many planets with snow, yet none looked so much like his home planet. Grogu was equally enraptured, reaching out for the large flakes falling from the sky. The delicate object landed on his hand, staying only a moment before melting away. He cooed happily, reaching for another as Din felt his heart melt just as the snowflake had.

Looking around, he spotted a clump of snow surrounded by footprints, realizing with a jolt that he must have been trying to make something, only to be interrupted by Din himself.

“You know,” he set Grogu down, kneeling as he ran his glove through the snow, collecting a handful. “I used to be pretty good at making these.”

Grogu smiled, or at least what he thought was a smile, and began working on his project once again. A few minutes later Din leaned back, watching as the child pushed two stones he had handed him into their creation. It was a mock imitation in the child’s own likeness, though he seemed ecstatic with himself as he waddled a few steps back to look, taking a seat on Din’s ankle.

They sat like that for a moment, appreciating their work as the snow continued to fall around them. He liked this. This feeling he had in his chest. It had been so long since he had last felt like this, he almost forgot what it felt like.

He felt content. Happy even. Was this what it was like back at the covert? Had he been hiding himself away for so long for nothing? Maybe…maybe this year he would see if the Alor would let him stay. He had always heard Paz talking about how he needed more help around this time, so there was still work for him to do a bit closer to them.

The moment ended as he noticed a slight shiver come from Grogu, apparently only now feeling the chill of the snow. Taking him into his arms once again, he started back towards the ship where they could both warm up. His mind drifted back to the present sitting on the high shelf. It was a bit early but there was no reason he couldn’t get him something else, right? Besides, it would help him warm up while Din re-hydrated some stew mix for the both of them.

"Come on." Din softly smiled from under his helmet, bringing his cape around to protect Grogu from the numbing wind that had picked up. "I have something for you.''

#star wars #mandalorian #the mandolorian #fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian #grogu #the child #din dijarin #din and grogu #dadalorian #sw #mando #paz vizsla #mandalorian armorer #sw secret santa 2021 #baby yoda #dad din #good soup #winter #snowman

[ecoamerica]

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[tippedbykreider]

god only knows | c. kreider

Word count: 3.6k Warnings: This is set during the bubble last year so the pandemic features heavily. Author’s note: Reuploading this because I miss his stupid face. This was written in direct response to that heartbreaking interview Chris and Mika gave after the Rangers were swept in the bubble.  Summary: Losses are tough and being away from you is tougher but it gives Chris all the clarity he needs when it comes to you and your relationship.

It’s always hard when the season ends in a way that leaves a bitter taste, whether it’s due to an early summer from not managing to clinch an all-important playoff spot or crashing out in the post-season, the disappointment stings. This had been one for the history books for sure in terms of pure weirdness, with a three month pause due to a global pandemic and a unique bubble situation in a city that wasn’t home once play had resumed away from friends and family. Hockey was hockey as far as Chris was concerned and he wasn’t about to look that gift horse in the mouth even though it had killed him to have to pack a case and leave you behind.

You watched with tears in your eyes as Chris choked up during his post-game interview with Mika after the Rangers were swept in the qualifying round and you couldn’t help but let them fall as you listened to him blame himself for the loss and how disappointed he was in himself that he couldn’t turn things around for the team. The ache in your chest sat heavily, that feeling of complete helplessness overwhelming with the knowledge you’d have to wait until tomorrow before Chris would finally be home and you could set about helping to heal his heart. You knew Chris would be taking this loss hard, he always did with these kinds of things, nobody having higher expectations of him than himself and always the one to carry the team’s struggles on his shoulders, even though it wasn’t necessarily his burden alone to bear. ‘If not me, then who else?’ he would always say.

This time, though, you knew that the end of the season would hold a different kind of sadness – it was looking to be the end of an era. People that Chris had been friends and teammates with for years had their futures with the Rangers hanging in the balance and the idea that he could be going into next season as the longest tenured player wasn’t lost on him, made even more bittersweet by all the memories he’d made with those guys throughout the years, and the fact that this was probably the last opportunity they would’ve had to get Hank the cup he always deserved with the Rangers.

The belief had been there too, you could see it in Chris’s eyes and the quiet determination that had made a home there before the break. Christmas had been the turning point, it was like everything fell into place and the wins started to come in and maybe, just maybe, they’d clinch a playoff spot; you could burst with pride when you thought about how Chris had been a large part of that success. Your heart broke for him when he injured his foot during a game against Philadelphia, especially so soon after signing his extension that had undeniably been a huge source of strain on you both.

Chris had been determined to stay in New York, not only for himself but also for you, knowing how hard you’d worked to build a career for yourself and he wanted to be able to give you some sense of stability and certainty for your future. You can’t ever remember a time where you’d cried as much as you did when he broke the news that he’d manage to reach a deal with management and that you were both staying put, so convinced as you were that he was about to tell you that he couldn’t get it done and that you’d be uprooting your life and starting all over again in a new city.

The break in play had at least given Chris chance to rehab from his injury, even if he did push himself harder than he should have, determined to be ready to go when the season resumed. That in itself was a very ‘Chris’ thing for him to do and was a habit that he hadn’t managed to shake, despite your gentle reminders that he is, despite his best beliefs, only human and that his body needs time to heal. He was thankful for this, of course, self-aware enough to know that he needed to be told to slow down and to listen to what his body was trying to tell him. You’d been through enough injuries with him over the course of your relationship to know what he needed before he even did, that perception of yours never failing to knock him back a bit and make him remember just how lucky he got when he met you.

You thought about everything that had happened during the season, all the uncertainties and the ups and downs, and each time you found your mind drifting back to your relationship with Chris and how you had gotten through it all, side by side and hand in hand. You knew that the reason you were hurting as much as you were right now was because your hearts and souls were so intrinsically linked that they were one and the same and even across the miles you could feel his disappointment and sorrow. That’s how it had always been. You and him; sharing pain, sharing happiness and all of your hopes and dreams and right now, you were reeling in the aftermath of watching his shatter. The hopes of creating a fairytale ending for both the season and for the group of players within the team who were more than likely playing their last season together after many years, dissolving into nothingness.

You opened your phone and typed out a simple message, knowing that there was nothing really you could say to take away the heartache that he was undoubtedly feeling right now, but saying nothing at all didn’t sit right with you either.

I am so incredibly proud of you and everything you have achieved this season. Never forget how truly amazing you are, Chris, on and off the ice. I love you so much and I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

You hit send and put your phone on the coffee table, knowing that Chris wouldn’t see the message until he was back at the hotel. It was a couple of hours later when his name flashed across the screen and your phone vibrated against the nightstand. You set your book down and answered, voice soft and just a little tentative.

“Hey…”

His reply came on the exhale of a breath, enough for you to know just how empty he was feeling.

“Hey, sweetheart… I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, no you didn’t. I was just reading in bed.”

“Yeah?” There was a hint of a smile in his voice at that and you were thankful to hear it, even in the midst of digesting a bitter defeat Chris still managed to find joy in discussing literature. “What’re you reading?”

“Captain Corelli’s Mandolin”

“Again?” he teased gently.

“Yes, again,” you replied with a soft laugh. “You know it’s my favourite.”

He sighed then, barely audible and filled with a mixture of emotions, almost as if he was composing himself.

“I want to read it with you when I get back.”

“I’ll read it to you, yeah?.”

You hadn’t meant for it to come out as a whisper, but the combination of the sadness in his tone and the way your heart and soul ached for him was too much to bear. You made a conscious effort to not mention the loss, knowing him well enough to know that he wouldn’t be ready to talk about it just yet, he’d come to you about it in his own time and you weren’t going to push him unnecessarily. Instead, you talked about what time his flight would get in and your plans for the next few weeks before you’d inevitably find yourselves retreating to your Connecticut bolthole. You’d spoken your goodbyes shortly after that, the ‘I love yous’ somehow seeming more heartfelt than they’d ever been before and you finally settled into bed after turning out the light, sleep eventually quieting your racing mind.

 You were roused by the beeping of your alarm, set purposely early so that you could get up and spruce your shared apartment before driving out to the airport to meet Chris. You’d made a quick trip to pick up a few bottles of his favourite red wine to have with the takeout from the Italian place you knew he loved so much. You knew it wasn’t going to fix everything for him, but it was a start.

You couldn’t help but shift from side to side as you waited for Chris to appear, that weird feeling of anticipation making you unusually antsy. This wasn’t the first time you’d been apart for any period of time, but Chris’s trips on the road were normally limited to no more than two weeks at a time. This, of course, was no ordinary situation. It’d been a month spent alone in your home and if there was one thing you’d learned during your time apart, it was that there was no home without Chris Kreider.

It was strange, you thought, how someone’s presence in your life can have such a profound effect and it wasn’t even as if you couldn’t function without him, your fierce independence was something that had drawn him to you in the first place and was incredibly important to you, but you’d come to learn that there was a huge difference between being unable to live without another person and choosing not to. You’d been apart long enough that you truly began to miss how he’d hum softly while brewing your morning coffee, how you’d sometimes come in from work to soft guitar strings and his beautiful singing voice that he was far too modest about. It was all the little things that made Chris Chris, the little facets of himself that had woven their way into the very fabric of your life and the home you shared together, that you mourned while he had been away.

Your eyes drifted towards the first trickle of bodies coming through the automatic doors out into the parking lot, your neck craning to try and catch a glimpse of him while the excitement in your heart had it racing at a mile a minute. You watched with a tight throat as others began their reunions, unable to keep the emotion from building in your chest as you thought about just how much you had missed him.

His eyes found yours as he exited the building, one of his large hands coming up to pull the face covering away from his mouth as he came towards you in large strides, his suitcase left abandoned as he closed the last couple of meters between you both. The moment he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tight to his chest, you felt the overwhelming sense of homecoming, of all the planets and stars re-aligning and everything being right in the world, even if it necessarily wasn’t. You weren’t sure at what point you’d started to cry, unaware of the tears that had streaked down your cheeks until Chris was wiping them away diligently with the pads of his thumbs.

“Hey, hey…” he soothed. “It’s okay, baby…”

You wrapped your arms tighter around his waist and nestled your face against his strong chest, your voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

“I’m sorry, I told myself I wasn’t gonna cry.”

“It’s okay to cry.”

He cupped your face with both his hands and with the gentlest of pressures against your skin, brought your eyes up to meet his which had crinkled slightly in the corners from the smile he was wearing.

“There she is,” he murmured against your lips as he kissed you sweetly. “I missed you, sweetheart. So much.”

“I missed you too”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, just like he did every time he came home from a trip, and wrapped you into his embrace. You stood like that in the parking lot for a few moments, each using the moment to centre yourselves and convey all the things that you were both feeling but didn’t need to say. It was Chris who pulled away first, but not before kissing the crown of your head.

“Is it okay if I drive us home?”

His voice was rough, laced with all the emotion that he was trying so hard to keep a lid on. You knew that this was his way of trying to get back to normal, a small baby step in putting the disappointments of the season behind him and it was a request that you were only too happy to oblige, wordlessly handing him the keys and picking up one of his smaller bags to carry it the short way to the car.

The drive back to your Tribeca apartment was relatively quiet and the few times when Chris did speak, it was only to ask how you were doing and how work had been for you. You told him about the project that had kept you busy while he was away and filled him in on all the office gossip and while such topic might have seemed trifling or insignificant to others, to Chris it was exactly the kind of distraction he needed right now along with the feeling of your fingers laced with his.

You watched as he stood in your entrance hallway and inhaled deeply before the shaky exhale of his breath came through his nose and left his shoulders sagging. The crack in his voice had your heart breaking for him.

“I just thought… maybe we coulda done it, y’know?” He paused briefly, the silence filled with a small sniffle, “for Hank.”

“Oh, Chris.”

The gentle shaking of his shoulders as he let out the first quiet sobs had you floating to him in large strides. Your arms wrapping around him as tightly as they could to hold him against you, your touch grounding him in a moment where he felt like everything was spiralling. You pulled him down the hallway and into your bedroom, settling him on the bed as you held him, your fingers carding rhythmically through his short curls to soothe him.

“It’s okay… let it out, babe.”

“It just fucking sucks,” he choked out between sobs. “Those young guys needed me to set an example and by the time I’d gotten my head out my ass it was too late.”

“You’ve been setting an example to those guys all year, Chris. A lot of those boys have never experienced playoff hockey before, now they have. Now they know what it takes. It is not your job to carry that whole team on your shoulders, baby… it’s just not. Even if they make you captain, which by the way they absolutely should because you deserve it, it’s still not just your responsibility.”

He looked up at you, tears still clinging to his lashes, unsure exactly what to say. He knew deep down that you were right, that wins and losses weren’t down to a single individual and with the abundance of youth on the team right now, the best was surely yet to come. It was just the nostalgia of all the memories with the older guys that hurt right now, that 2014 run the closest they’d been. He knew that they had the talent to do it again, hell, even win the whole damn thing, except this time, he’d be the veteran presence in the room. It’s a strange feeling, suddenly realising that you’re the old guy in the room despite not even turning thirty yet; it often had him thinking about his future, the twilight years of his career and beyond that. No matter where his thoughts took him, there was always one constant, one thing that remained the same and one thing that he never wanted to change.

You.

As he took in your features, with the way your eyes were set with a tenderness that he knew was reserved only for him and the feeling of your nails gently raking across his scalp that had his body sinking into the mattress, he knew that he didn’t want to live a single day without the warmth of your love. He thought back to the night you’d met at the 2016 charity Casino night. You were wearing navy blue, he remembered, a silk dress that hugged every curve of your body and he remembered that you were terrible at Blackjack, something that had never changed over the years. You’d been sat at the table he was dealing at, the sparkle in your eye impossible for him to ignore. Thinking back, he cringed at the fact he used the red wine in your glass as a conversation opener, the simple ‘what’re you drinkin’ there?’ not the smoothest pick-up line he ever used but did prove to be a useful segue into a discussion about your favourite red wines, information that he stored and used later on when he took you for a wine-tasting session as your first date.

It’d been four years of knowing you and three years of loving you and Chris was certain that it was the best and greatest thing that he would ever do in his whole life. No Stanley Cup could ever compare the feeling of waking up beside you, or kissing you goodnight, or even sharing a bottle of Chambertin in a bath with far too many bubbles and the way your laughter would echo off the tiles at whatever dumb joke he’d told, dumb jokes that he’d reserve just for you. It was knowing that you were there for him when things were tough or when they weren’t going his way and how you would do all of it with a smile on your face and nothing but encouragement and support. Your love was something Chris could always depend on and something that he never wanted to take for granted. He spoke your name softly and with a tenderness that held all the weight in the world.

“Yeah?”

He reached his hand up to caress along your jaw, an action which had you nuzzling into his palm. He placed a gentle pressure on your cheek so that you would bring your eyes to meet his, full to the brim of warmth and unadulterated adoration.

“I’ve been thinking,” he started, promptly rolling his eyes at the little smirk that had graced your lips. “Don’t say it.”

“Say what?” You grinned.

“Don’t play cute,” he was smiling now, the first full one since the loss, as he rolled over and pulled you with him onto his chest. “We both know you were gonna say something clever like ‘oooh, that’s dangerous’”

You snorted at him in mock indignation.

“I was not.”

“Suuure.”

He pinched your sides lightly while you giggled and squirmed above him before he caught your lips in a soft kiss, settling the moment between the two of you.

“So, as I was saying, I’ve been thinking… About us.”

That had your attention. You propped yourself up above him to better hold his gaze, as if trying to ascertain his next words before he’d even spoken them.

“I think we should get married,” he started. “Fuck, being away from you this past month has been awful, I missed you so much, but it really gave me some perspective and clarity…”

“I missed you too, Chris,” you rested your arm by his head so that you could play with the short brown curls there.

“And when I think about it, when I think about my life and what I have, there’s been one constant in my life these past four years, no matter whatever else has been going on. One good thing. I know you joke that it’s hockey and then it’s you but it’s not. If I strip everything else away, the money, the nice apartment, the pro-athlete status, whatever the fuck that is, if I take away all of those things that people tell me should make me happy, as long as I still had you by my side, I’d be the happiest and richest man on the planet. God only knows what I’d be without you…” He paused to gently wipe away the tears that had pillowed on your cheeks before continuing. “Your love is everything and if I don’t have that then I have nothing at all. Baby, it’s you. You’re all that I am and when I think about my future, all I have to do is look into your eyes and it’s right there. It’s right there in front of me, laid out like all of the most beautiful constellations in the sky and if I have that then how can I go wrong?”

For the second time that day you found yourself crying in the arms of the man you loved more than anything, suspended in a state of pure joy and disbelief that everything you ever wanted with him was being offered to you freely.

“I don’t have a ring yet,” he murmured into your hair. “But I thought it might be quite nice if we went to the diamond district together, you can pick out whatever you want and then maybe go and get dinner somewhere? I know it’s unconventional but when have we ever been normal?”

You cut him off with a kiss, your fingers stroking along the long stubble as you melted into him, full of love and excitement for the future that you were going to build together and all of the joys that were to come with him as your husband.

“It’s perfect, Chris. It’s perfect.”

#chris kreider #chris kreider fic #chris kreider x reader #nhl fic #nhl writing #nhl fiction #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey writing #hockey fiction #hockey fanfiction #my writing

[starrynite7114]

wrapping (angel reyes)

A/N: Three days till Christmas! How were finals for you all? Christmas shopping all done? I just have two more people on my list and I should be good to go. This year has been tolling, but I’m glad it is almost over. I wanted to let you all know that you’ve made this extremely difficult year so much more bearable. I hope I was able to help some especially with quarantine and all. It’s been tolling on us all but I want to let you all know that we’ve got this and you’re not alone. Please don’t ever hesitate to message me for anything, silly jokes, conversations, etc. 

I’m going to post mostly holiday stories till after Christmas. I will update Roommates and the EZ request will be posted! I know I don’t update as quick as I should, but I’m trying! <3

Hope you all enjoy this story!

Shoutout: This is for @blackmissfrizzle​! I still owe her one more for her birthday, but we were shooting the shit as we always do, being one another’s second brain and this idea popped up as I was struggling with wrapping Christmas presents. To my second brain, I love you, do not know how we got as close as we did, I am forever thankful. You are evil, but I love nonetheless. 

Groupchat for updates! Please join since the tags could be a bit iffy at times!

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please let me know! My tag list is a little messy, but please let me know if you want to be added!

Masterlist

Word count: 2171

Warnings: Fluff, mild sexual situation (hand job, fingering), Does Angel count as a warning?

CREDITS TO THE ORIGINAL GIF MAKER!

“Angel, stop,” you groaned as you felt Angel leave another mark on your skin. 

He smirked against your skin, placing a kiss on the spot he just bit. “What?” His voice sounded gravely, you two had just woken up. 

“Did you not leave enough bites last night?” Well, this morning, but it counted as last night since you two started last night.

“Can never get enough bites in baby.” He chuckled. 

Turning you to face him, Angel kissed you. It started with a few pecks, before he slipped his tongue in, slow and sensual as always. He moved on top of you, your lips never parting, intertwining your hands beside your head. 

“Te quiero mucho mi vida,” Angel whispered against your lips before he slipped his tongue inside your mouth again. You felt his hardened member against your leg. Reaching down to wrap your hand around his hardened member, you moved your hand up and down his cock causing Angel to groan. “Fuck baby, just like that. Can’t wait to be buried inside you again.” He ran his fingers up and down your folds, slipping his fingers inside.

You moaned, widening your legs. Angel removed your hand from his cock, moving so he can slide inside you. Just as he was about to, his phone rang, making Angel groan. He buried his face at the crook of your neck as he grabbed his phone.

“What’s up?” He answered. “Yeah, I’ll be there in twenty.” He hung up, placing his phone on the bedside drawer. “You think we can get a quickie done in ten minutes?”

You laughed and pushed away from Angel. “Have you met you? There’s no way baby.” You slipped on your discarded panties and his shirt. “I’ll see you in the kitchen.” 

Preparing a quick breakfast for Angel, you made coffee just like how he liked it, with no sweetener or anything. You were cooking some eggs, bacon and a patty for his sandwich. 

“Only psycho’s drink their coffee black.” You commented, shaking your head. 

“I’m your psychopath though.” Angel grabbed the coffee cup and dropped a kiss on your lips. “Besides, that's how pops drink it.” He took a sip, the bitterness was not something he could get used to, but it woke him up. “What you got planned today?”

“I have to finish up some christmas shopping, but otherwise, I have to wrap presents.” 

Angel almost choked on his coffee and tried his best not to laugh. “Baby, we have a deal. You shop, I wrap. It’s better this way.” 

“Yes, but we made a deal yesterday remember?” You pouted, wrapping your arms around Angel.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Hard to forget baby, especially when your lips were wrapped around my dick.” 

“You’re too much sometimes, you know that?”

“Ain’t no shame baby.”

You laughed. “Of course not, why would you?” You handed him the quick breakfast sandwich you made. “You’ve been busy with the club, I got this.”

Angel doubted that, but he loves you and he supported you no matter what you wanted to do. “If you need me, I’m a call away.”

“Are you going across the border today?”

“No, just templo and a shift at the yard. Then I’m all yours. We still doing a movie marathon?” Angel scruffed down the sandwich you made for him as he waited for your answer.

“Yes, are Coco, Letty and Gilly still coming over?”

“Baby, we’ve had them over the last three nights, we can enjoy one night to ourselves.” Angel drank the rest of his coffee and threw the paper towel that once held his sandwich. “I’ll cook dinner and you pick the movies.”

“Cook? Baby, you can’t cook.” 

“Alright, I’ll order take out and I can fuck you on the kitchen table while we wait.”

“Angel!” You threw a piece of bread at him which he caught and ate. 

He laughed and kissed you again. “Okay, we can fuck in bed whichever one, regardless, that ass is mine tonight. Te queiro.”

“Love you too.” 

Wrapping presents shouldn’t be hard.

But there was no shame of paying professionals to do it either.

This year, you promised yourself that you would wrap the Christmas presents. That for once, you could wrap the presents and learn how to do it.

God bless YouTube University.

You watched videos, practiced with various items so when the time came, you could wrap the presents. 

The time came and yet again, it was a fail.

You looked at the Christmas wrappers scattered on your living room floor as you wrapped one of Angel’s several gifts. You and Angel have been dating for three years now and he knew your peril with wrapping gifts. So every Christmas the tasks were always the same. You bought the gifts, Angel wrapped the presents. But with the club being busier this year, you told your boyfriend that you had everything handled. He gave you a look, but you assured him with a smile and a blowjob. 

You had your tongue sticking out at the side of your mouth, taping the Christmas wrapper together and yet again, you didn’t measure correctly and it was disproportionate. 

“This is hopeless. How is Angel so good at this?” You laid your forehead against the coffee table in front of you. With every failed attempt, the more you regretted not going to the mall and had the professionals wrap your presents. But you had to push through. This Christmas was all you and you didn’t want Angel to lift a finger. 

You continued to wrap presents, adding strips of wrapping paper for certain presents that you didn’t measure out correctly. The presents didn’t look bad necessarily, but you just wished they looked better.

You placed all of Angel’s presents under the Christmas tree and went to get the rest of the presents you have yet to wrap. You had at least ten more presents to wrap and it was slightly becoming daunting for you. Presents shouldn’t be hard to wrap and honestly, you were using the mall gift wrappers next year. You went into the kitchen to grab a drink of water and finish the rest of these presents. Looking at your watch, it was fifteen minutes to six. Angel should be home in an hour or so. 

Sitting back down with your hot chocolate instead of water, you placed Coco’s present on the coffee table to begin wrapping it. As you were busying yourself with that, Angel came in through the backdoor wanting to surprise you. He left his bike at the clubhouse since Bishop gave him the day off tomorrow. EZ had dropped him off so that he could surprise you. He had the takeout in one hand and your favorite cheesecake from the bakery down the street from the clubhouse. 

He placed the food in the kitchen and quietly made his way to the living room where he knew you would be. He heard a train of expletives come out from your mouth and he had to hold back laughter. Peeking into the living room, he saw you with various pieces of christmas wrappers around you, highly concentrated on wrapping a gift on the coffee table. You were trying to fold the top of the present, looking at the gift before you with frustration. 

“Cut the top so you can fold it better,” he heard you tell yourself. “Okay, how do I know how much to cut?” You let out a groan. “This is ridiculous. I’m going to the mall tomorrow and have the experts do it.” 

“Or you can just let me do it like we always do.”

You yelled, your hot chocolate spilling all over you. “Angel!”

“Baby!” He quickly made his way over to you with paper towels, handing it to you. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know, what the hell, I didn’t even hear your bike.” 

“EZ dropped me off, wanted to surprise you.” Angel took off your shirt. “You should change.”

“Yeah? You think?” You rolled your eyes, playfully pushing him. 

You took a quick shower and came back out, finding Angel wrapping the rest of the presents. You sat beside him and he had hot chocolate waiting for you. “How are you so good at wrapping presents? You literally wrapped five in twenty minutes.” 

Angel shrugged. “My mom and I used to wrap presents for the whole family. It was our thing up till she passed.” 

You gave him a small smile and wrapped your hand around his. “So it was tradition?”

“Of some sorts, I would help her with wrapping the presents and she would tell me all these stories about my tio’s and tia’s, about her and my father.” Angel smiled fondly of the memories he shared with his mother. No one could wrap presents with them, it was for him and her, their bonding time. He continued to wrap presents every once in a while, but he didn’t do it traditionally like before, till he met you.

“Maybe we can start our own tradition? You can teach me how to wrap presents and this could be our thing.” You paused. You shouldn’t have said that, the last thing you wanted to do was impose on Angel’s memories of his mother. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” 

“No, it’s okay.” Angel turned to you and kissed your cheek. “I haven’t done this since my mom passed, it's nice to share this tradition with the most important person in my life.” 

You felt the tears well up in your eyes, Angel’s words making your heart swell. “I love you.”

“I love you more baby.” He smiled. His smile was so warm. You knew he was a tough guy, but when he was with you, he didn’t need to have to hide behind that exterior. “Do me a favor, can you grab the gift I got for pops? It’s in the drawer on my side of the bed.”

“Sure.”

You did as he asked and brought the gift over to him. It was in a velvet box and you couldn’t help but think what it could possibly be? Felipe hardly wore jewelry, but made Angel got home some to commemorate Marisol.

“Here babe.” You offered the box to him.

Angel took it and thanked you. The nerves began to set in for him, but he had to do it, he had this. 

Taking a deep breath, he turned to face you and you were standing, watching the baking show you had on before he came. He wasn’t sure when it clicked for him exactly, but a year ago, during the holiday season, he came to your apartment and found you watching some cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies and Letty was with you. You had looked up at him and smiled, patting the seat beside you. He realized then that he wanted to have this every holiday, every day for the rest of his life. 

He wanted to come home to a home you two shared with your kids surrounding you. 

He wanted to come home to you during a hard day and just be enveloped in your warmth.

He wanted to make new traditions with you and do it every year just as he did with his family.

You were his family now.

“Y/N,” he softly called out your name.

“Yeah baby?” You turned to face Angel and found him on one knee with the velvet box opened, showing you a beautiful diamond ring.

“When we first met, I never thought we would get this far. If anything, I thought you would come to your senses and not give me a second or third date, but you have no idea how happy I was you did. I hardly ever win, but in hindsight it doesn’t matter since my biggest victory is you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and make new traditions with you.” You began to cry along with Angel as he took your hand. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife? I love you, and there’s no one else I rather watch cheesy Hallmark movies with than you.”

You managed to laugh between your tears and nodded your head. “Yes, I will marry you.”

Angel smiled brightly as he took the ring off and slipped it in your finger. He stood up and kissed you, wrapping his arms around you. 

Pulling away, you looked at your ring and kissed him again. Life was hardly perfect with Angel, but you didn’t want that. You want all the imperfections you two had because at the end of the day, much like your divided task with Christmas, you two completed one another. Where one lacked, the other picked up.

And that’s what it was all about. You bettered one another.

Angel was your better half. 

No questions about it.

“We really gotta teach you how to wrap mami, cause I can’t wrap every damn present.”

You laughed. “We better get started then.”

=================

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#angel reyes #angel reyes fanfic #angel reyes fic #angelreyes #angel reyes x reader #mayans imagine #mayans mc imagine #mayans mc fanfiction #mayans mc fanfic

[miraculouswolf99]

Somebody Fix This School Already

Another of my one-shots for Miraculous Ladybug. Includes more of my original characters that can learned about from my post Originals. Please support me by becoming a patreon of me. Thank you.

*****

"Can one of you explain to us how this place is even considered a school," Mason asked the class in front of him.

The group of visiting Greek students had been talking during lunch the day after the Zombizou apocalypse. Mason, Lena, and Apollo had been sent to Ms.Mendeleiev's class while Lyon and Vallia were in Ms.Bustier's. So the other three did not know how one of the sweetest teachers in the school had been akumatized.

To say that the three were shocked by what the twins had told them would be one hell of an understatement. So Mason asked the very first question that came to mind to the nearby class that his friends belong to.

"What do you mean, dude," Nino asked, confused.

Ms.Bustier's class was all sitting together that day, except for Chloe and her minion... I mean Sabrina.

None of the class really knew the other three very well. They only really heard some passing things from Aurore and Mirelle. Nathaniel had been told that the three were nice by Marc when he asked him.

"Well, from what we know, Marinette, Adrien, Lyon, and Vallia are the only ones not to be akumatized in your whole class," Apollo says. "The fact that your teacher has now been the victim to one of those moths makes it more of an anomaly."

"Butterflies, not moths," Marinette corrected.

"We're still not convinced about that," Apollo said. "But that may be more because Beautifly is a hero from our own country so butterflies do not come to mind when evil is being spoken of."

"Anyway, there just has been a lot of akumas from this school, and your class in particular," Lena says. "Even your principle has been akumatized."

They did have a point. Their class, alone, had Bubbler, Stone Heart, Lady Wifi, Antibug, Princess Frangrance, Vanisher, Refleckta, Horrificator, Dark Cupid, Gamer, Robostus, Evillustrator, Timebreaker, Volpina if Lila ever comes back, and now Zombizou. Even outside the class but still in school was Dark Owl, Stormy Weather, Syren, Riposte, Magician of Misfortune, and even the school fencing instructor as Darkblade.

Marinette and Adrien were probably the most aware of what the Greeks were talking about. Marinette actually kept a list of all akumas on her computer to keep track of them all.

"Even if Ladybug always fixes the damage done to the school, that doesn't always stop what has caused the akuma in the first place," Vallia said.

"I don't get it," Kim was confused.

"We figure that Ms.Bustier was not the type to really feel negative emotions, especially after what she tried yesterday," Lyon said. "I mean, Chloe vandalizes Marinette's gift for our teacher out of pure spite and she tries to give Chloe credit and say that she will think of both girls when she looks at it."

"Say what," Lena did not know about that. "Why would anyone on Demeter's green earth try anything like that?"

"It's Chloe being Chloe," Alix huffed. "Half the city has basically been akumatized because of her."

"From what I know, Nino and Max are the only ones in class that haven't been akumatized because of her," Lyon says. "That is excluding myself, Vallia, Marinette, and Adrien as we have not been akumatized at all."

"After how this guy has been basically feeding off of negative emotions for so long, that is an impressive feat to have never been a victim of it before," Apollo said.

"Hold on one second," Lena halted everyone. "I have one question. How long has Bourgeois been acting like a... um..."

"Spoiled brat," Marinette offered.

"Nightmare," Alya suggested.

"The biggest bully in Paris," surprisingly offered by Juleka of all people.

"All of the above," Adrien shrugged.

The class looked at him weirdly. Whenever anyone has anything bad to say about Chloe, he is usually the first one to defend her after Sabrina.

"I guess even the humanized sunshine has his limits," Mason snickered.

Adrien sighed. "More like Lyon really knows how to harshly, but necessarily, give someone a very needed slap of reality."

"Parakaló," Lyon said. Translation: You're welcome.

"What did you say to him," Marinette asked the icy teen. "Adrien can be as stubborn as Alya, and that says something."

"Hey," the Ladyblogger protested, making the class laugh.

"I basically force-fed him a few facts," Lyon crossed his arms, as stone-cold as ever. "Mainly how this girl enjoys making the people around her miserable and is always the first person to put them down."

"You probably needed more than that to talk some sense into him," Nino said. "No offense, dude."

"None taken," Adrien shrugged.

"Trust me when I say that when my brother verbally slaps someone, he doesn't hold back," Vallia said.

"It was just a few innocent questions to those like Marinette, Nino, and Kim that got my wheels turning," Lyon says. "They all said the same thing when it came to Chloe. They all shared a class with her for ten years and the girl has been a bully for all ten of them. Did she even stop when there is a psycho out there taking advantage of negative emotions? No, she did not. All for one simple reason. She. Does. Not. Care."

The class was thinking the same thing. That when Lyon gets icy, he really gets icy. It was one thing when Marinette and Alya would stand up to her, but Lyon took the cake when it came to verbal beatdowns. Vallia was not kidding.

"Do any of us even need to bring up the fire alarm incident," Lena crossed her arms.

That got groans out of everyone, even Lyon and Vallia. When Chloe had been the only one not to be punished that day, Mason and Apollo had to basically force Lyon to be cleaning on the second floor so that he would not shoot the brat with an arrow.

The Greeks were half-tempted to allow him. Especially since it was obvious to everyone that she had been the one to make the false call in the first place yet only got out of the punishment because her father is the mayor. The Greeks were sure that anything he does to make his daughter happy and so unpunishable would be considered abuse of power if anyone bothered to look.

"Has any teacher ever tried to actually punish her," Mason asked.

"Actually punish Chloe," Alix snorted. "It is more likely for Ladybug and Cat Noir to willingly surrender to Hawkbutt than for Chloe to ever be punished."

"I think most of us see akumas going after her as the punishments that she deserves," Alya said. "I certainly went after her when I was Lady Wifi from what Marinette told me."

"When I saw her being chased by a giant hairdryer, I thought that my birthday and Christmas had somehow both had been happening at that moment," Marinette giggled.

"I may have been the Evillustrator, doing that, but you're welcome anyway," Nathaniel said.

"When Sabrina was tormenting Chloe as Vanisher, that was certainly some karma coming back to haunt her," Ivan commented.

"From what Ali had told me, I managed to make her pretty repulsive when I was Princess Frangrance," Rose added.

"I would have paid so much money to see that," Kim laughed. "Especially after she posted that humiliating picture of me that got me akumatized as Dark Cupid."

"I wish I could have remembered Chloe's face when I made her look like me when I was Reflekta," Juleka said.

Each of the students that had been akumatized by the brat all shared their own similar thoughts. That they all wished that they could remember getting her back while they were villains, even if they didn't want to remember anything else.

"Hold it," Lena halted the class, silencing them. "How many of these akumanizations happened while on school grounds?"

Alya, Ivan, Juleka, Nathaniel, and Mylene all raised their hands. All of their torments by Chloe had happened at school, only Mylene's happening after hours though.

"So even with all of you being akumatized because of her bullying or abusing her father's mayoral status, no one in this school did a thing," Mason clenched his fists.

The silence was very telling.

"Unbelievable," Vallia pinched the bridge of her nose. "If anyone behaved like that at our school back home, they'd be expelled faster than you could say Olympus."

"Athena is most ashamed of them," Lyon says. "She is not the goddess of wisdom for nothing."

"It is not like we can do anything about it," Max wiped his glasses. "After ten years of Chloe getting away with her behavior and attitude, the odds of her changing or the school staff doing anything about her is about a quarter of a billion to one."

"Leaving the math to Max, I do still agree with him," Marinette said. "Chloe has always been like this and the teachers have always allowed it. They think that just because her mom left her and her father that she gets to act as horrible as she does with no risk of punishments or any sort of consequence."

"Why not do something about it," Lena asks. "Force a much-needed change."

"What could we do," Alya did not have a plan for once. "They never listen to us and we're just a bunch of teenagers."

"The best thing about being teenagers is that we grew up during this time," Apollo says. "So that means we know what needs to be fixed. The reason why those our age do better than their predecessors is that we have seen the problems they never bothered to fix because they are so set in their ways."

"There is a reason why people say that children are our future," Mason smirked. "That isn't some insane prediction that children will one day rebel and take over the world, you know."

"We... uh... we could all demand to be transferred to another class," Adrien suggested. "Like Ms.Mendeleiev's or something?"

"Would that even work," Mylene wondered out loud.

"If anything, so many students wanting out of the same class at the same time for the same reason should raise some red flags," Lyon stated. "Does this school have a Board of Directors or not?"

Marinette actually had a better idea. She pulled out her phone. There was a look on her face that even Alya was was a little scared of.

Fate chose that moment for lunch to come to an end. The bell rang for everyone to pack up and get back to their classes. Lena, Mason, and Apollo gave the class a look.

"Don't let adults make you think you have no power," Apollo advised. "Everyone has the right to stand up to a bully and to those that won't punish her."

With that, the three of them left, joining Kagami, Marc, and Ondine on their way back to class. Aurore and Mirelle were waiting for them at the top of the stairs.

"You, Greeks, don't hold back, do you," Alya rhetorically says.

"Alya," Marinette scolded.

"Just be happy that none of us are from Sparta," Lyon stated.

"So, what do you guys think," Alix asks them all. "Class or principle's office?"

They all got up as they put their things back in their bags. They were all looking between the two rooms.

"Now or never, right, dudes," Nino said.

"I think I can speak for all of us when I say that we have had enough of Chloe Bourgeois to last all of our lifetimes," Marinette says.

The rest of the class did nothing but nod in agreement.

*****

"You all want to WHAT," Principle Damocles yelled.

"Did you not hear us," Vallia crossed her arms. "We want to transfer out of Ms.Bustier's class."

Vallia proved that Gardens did not hold back even when dealing with authority figures. It was a bit of a shock that it was the Flower Princess saying things like that and not her Ice Prince of a twin brother. Not that Lyon's silence and ice-cold stare was anything less scary. If anything, it only terrified them more.

Ms.Bustier had also been called in when what they wanted had been made perfectly clear. Chloe and Sabrina were behind her, as the teachers did not want to leave the two students alone in the classroom.

"A...All of you," Damocles stuttered, the students nodding. "It...It isn't possible. There isn't enough room in the other classes for all of you, even separated."

"Then make room," Lyon stated as if it was that simple.

"Why would all of you even want to leave," Ms.Bustier asked.

Their teacher, soon to be former-teacher, did look hurt. The students felt guilty over being the cause of her feelings being hurt, but it was also her own fault for never punishing Chloe.

"I think it's quite obvious," Marinette says. "We want to be as far away from Chloe Bourgeois as possible. We are sick and tired of her bullying us and getting away with it."

The rest of the class all voiced their agreement with the bluenette. To say that the two adults were shocked would be one hell of an understatement.

"Just because you are all jealous that you aren't as rich or beautiful as me..." Chloe started.

"SHUT UP, CHLOE," they all yelled at her.

"You can't talk to me like that," Chloe took out her hone with a huff. "I'm calling Daddy to stop you all from being mean to me."

"Call him all you want, we don't care anymore," Nino yelled, shocking the class as he had never yelled at anyone before.

"You have been destroying our work, bullying, and insulting us for ten years and we are no longer just gonna lie down and take it," Nathaniel sternly stated.

"Destroying work," Damocles was confused.

"How have you not noticed," Marinette snapped. "What about last month when Chloe destroyed the children's book that Alya was working on about Ladybug so she could read it to her sisters. Or a few months ago when Chloe dumped all that red paint on a dress I was designing in the art room."

"Well..." Damocles tried, but Marinette was not done.

"What about last year when Chloe ripped apart one of Nathaniel's sketchbooks," Marinette continued her rant. "Or that same year when she stole, and then snapped, a CD that Nino made of his DJ music. Or two years ago when she stuck a bunch of Juleka's and Rose's pictures in a bucket of paint."

"When I first heard about her doing that, I started keeping all my spray paints in a locked box that's in my locker," Alix crossed her arms.

"Which I saw Chloe try and break into more than once but you refused to do anything about it even when I had pictures and videos of her doing it," Kim glared at the authority figures.

"She tried what," Alix yelled. "And you didn't tell me!"

"Hey, even with proof, they didn't punish the brat," Kim responded. "You punching her would not have helped, even though she would have deserved it."

"Chloe would NOT have deserved it," Sabrina defended her 'friend.'

"She would have deserved that and so much more," Alya glared at the minion. "The rest of us see akumas going after her as karma coming to bite her in the butt."

"She's worse than Hawkmoth," Alix said for the second time in two days.

"She's caused so many akumas that you can almost call her Hawkmoth's sidekick," Ivan says.

"The fact that no one in this school seems to care about her victims speaks volumes about the staff," Lyon said. "There were a lot of spoiled brats back home, but at least our teachers and headmaster punished them when the punishment was deserved."

"After all this, Chloe should have been expelled a long time ago," Vallia put a hand on her hip. "Just because her victims don't remember what got them akumatized doesn't mean that the act did not happen at all."

"She even effects what other people think about those that hang around her," Adrien finally spoke up.

"Adrikins..." Chloe tried.

"No, you are not going to steamroll me this time, Chloe," Adrien actually glared at her. "I spent so much time defending you to everyone, but you just used that to hang off me no matter how clear it was that it made me uncomfortable. People already had bad opinions about me before they even met me because you were my childhood friend. They thought I'd be like you. Marinette did when she saw me messing with that gum on our first day of school."

The mentioned bluenette blushed, remembering that she did think he was a spoiled brat like Chloe when she saw that.

"Sorry about that," she said quietly.

"No need to apologize, Mari," Adrien says. "But that doesn't mean Chloe's attitude did not almost keep me from gaining friends. I've tried to get her to change for years, but she seems to only get worse. Every day she bullies, insults, and torments everyone around her and all we get told is that we need to be the bigger person or that there is nothing you can do. There is EVERYTHING you can do. Give her detention, lower her grades when she forces other people to do her work, scold her when she insults someone, act like you are TEACHERS!"

By the end of Adrien's rant, everyone was staring at him like he had suddenly grown two more heads. This was Adrien Agreste, who people have called the Sunshine of Paris. He hasn't talked to anyone like that since... he's never talked to anyone like that.

"What Chloe does to Adrien can basically be considered harassment," Lyon said. "I had a girl once try what Chloe is doing to Adrien. One phone call later and she was slapped with both a lawsuit for harassment and a restraining order before she could say Olympus."

"The look on her face when our lawyer handed her those papers was worth more than an entire family's jewel collection," Vallia giggled.

"Maybe not worth that much," Lyon says, making his sister roll her eyes.

"The point is, we are putting our feet down," Kim said. "If you won't punish Chloe, then we don't want to be in the same class as her."

"She has already been the cause of all our akumazations, other than myself and Nino's," Max pushed up his glasses. "Taking in my calculations of Marinette, Adrien, Lyon, and Vallia never being akumatized, the result of Chloe being the cause of any of us being akumatized again is roughly ninety-nine point nine-nine percent."

"How does he do that without a calculator," Vallia whispered to Rose. "Or a supercomputer?"

"We have no idea," the sweet blond whispered back.

"Have I ever mentioned I hate math," Vallia shook her head. "I'll always prefer geology to geography."

"You just need to forgive Chloe," Ms.Bustier tries. "Set an example for her to follow."

"I can let the anger go but I will never forgive Chloé Bourgeois," Marinette said. "We shouldn't be held accountable for the stuff Chloé pulls because we have to be good role models. You've only been our teacher for four years but Chloé and I have been together for ten years. She's been like this for a decade and nothing has ever changed."

"It's because of people like you," Adrien says. "Adults like you who look at Chloé and think her mother leaving her is enough of an excuse to act like a horrible person. You're better than the people who just want to be on her dad's good side, but not by much. You keep giving her second chances when she's already gotten long past the point of no return. You're enabling her behavior instead of punishing her even when she's been bullying everyone for years. Even I know that and I only started public school this year."

"Now, I wouldn't say bullying," Mme. Bustier says, trying for a smile. "That's a bit too far."

"She's been the biggest bully in the entire school," Alya says, arms folded, eyes firm. "We told you how she destroyed Nathaniel, Juleka, Nino, Marinette's, and my work several times. She's vandalized everyone's work. She's insulted and personally attacked every person in class too many times to count. There's always evidence and several witnesses every single time."

"But what have you done? Nothing," Nino took his turn to rant. "You've never once stepped in because you coddle her and think she'll eventually change even though she's proven she is never going to change . And do you want to know why? Because of stuff like this. Chloé vandalized the purse Marinette made you out of pure spite yet you had the nerve to try and give her credit for it."

"You want us to fix Chloé when you should be doing that yourself," Marinette took the baton. "Instead of doing something a responsible teacher would. Like, suggest a counselor work with her, talk to her dad, or detentions when she acts like a horrible person. You throw the people who care and respect you under the bus. Beyond preaching about love and trust, you do nothing to help us deal with Chloe. Chloe doesn't respect anyone but herself."

"The akuma that turned you into Zombizou was only even here because it was most likely going after Marinette," Lyon was not happy when he figured that out. "We can add nearly getting the human embodiment of a cinnamon bun akumatized to her already very long list of bad things she's done."

"We are the victims of Chloé Bourgeois's bullying and you expect us to understand and excuse her behavior when she hurts us," Marinette continued. "But you will never think about it from our perspective and never when this is reversed. We're sorry, Ms.Bustier, but we don't want to be a part of a class with a teacher who has no respect for us and continues to let a bully hurt every single one of us."

Silence washed over the room after they were all finished. They were all just so done with the brat of Paris.

"Now that you have all gotten that off your chests, I find that it is time you all go back to class," Damocles tells them.

There were about five seconds of silence for the students to process what their principle tried to just make them do. They were about to blow their tops and start yelling and saying that he had lost his mind if he thought that just because they said all that means that they want to get away from Chloe any less than before.

But Marinette's mother, Sabine, came walking in. The look on her face and the way she simply sat down in the visitor's chair like she was supposed to be there in the first place was a little terrifying.

"You, kids, should go and wait in Ms.Bustier's classroom," she told them in a sweet voice that brought chills down their spines. "Your principal, teacher, and I have much to discuss."

They did as she said, everyone quickly leaving the office.

Seeing her mother like that made Marinette remember a time a few years ago when she was told about the Chinese zodiac. Her mother had told her that she, herself, had been born in the years of the tiger. Marinette never truly believed that until now.

"Marinette, your mother is awesome," Alya cheered. "How did she even know to come?"

"At that exact moment, too," Nino says. "That was perfect timing if I have ever seen it."

Marinette smirked as she held up her phone, that she had brought put earlier.

"My parents were listening the entire time we were in there," she snickered. "I figured that Principal Damocles wouldn't listen to us, so I brought out the big guns."

"After seeing your mother's wicked skills with a baking slab during that one time someone tried to break into the bakery last month, I do not doubt that," Vallia giggled.

Marinette slightly shivered as she remembered the beatdown that her mother delivered against a man that tried to rob their bakery. He had arrived just after closing time after nearly a week straight of having a line out the door after the debut of Marinette's Ladybug and Cat Noir baked goods line.

The robber thought that after such a long time of good days, they would have a lot of money lying around. While they did, he had no idea of her mother's past of being very well trained in the martial arts. She grabbed the nearest thing to her, a baking slab used mostly by pizza makers to put pizzas in their ovens, and he was a bloody mess on the floor by the time the cops came.

When Marinette put her phone away, the rest of the class seemed to catch on to her actions and decided to add their own pressure to the principal.

Alya whipped out her phone with a speed that only all of her blogging would have given her. Mylene was very theatrical with her phone call, doing a lot of talking with her hands as her arms waved around as she spoke. Rose and Nino were also quite enthusiastic with their phone calls, not that anything less was expected out of them. Ivan, Juleka, Nathaniel, and Max were a lot quieter when they made their calls. Kim and Alix, of course, were basically yelling into their phones.

When Marinette looked at the twins and Adrien, their phones were not out. It made sense with the twins, having told them that their dad, who came with them, did not speak any French. He was usually very confused whenever they went grocery shopping and one of the twins always had to come with him as a translator. With Adrien, with his very absentee father and non-family bodyguard and assistant/manager, he had no one to call for something like this.

"If you want, I could drag your father here by his hair," Lyon says to the blond. "Or threaten him with an arrow to get him here."

"Lyon, as much as I would appreciate that, both of those things are illegal," Adrien sighed, but Marinette could tell that he was tempted.

"Hasn't stopped me from threatening Chloe with my bow before," the Greek boy smirked. "And that was only when I had a very long breadstick notched in it, not even an actual arrow."

"As the daughter of a baker, I can tell you just how dangerous a stale piece of bread is," Marinette giggled.

One by one, other parents and guardians of their classmates came running or walking into the school.

Otis and Marlena Césaire were the first ones there. Otis was too angry to greet the kids, but Marlena happily gave her daughter a basket of food to give out before both parents vanished behind closed doors. Fred Haprèle, easily recognized from his movie roles, tipped his signature hat to the class before entering the office. Claudie Kanté was next to arrive, giving her son a hug before vanishing behind closed doors. Mr. Kubdel arrived with Jalil, both men looking angry as they passed the class, but Alix was given a thumbs up from her brother.

Mr.LêChiến, a military man, was very intimidating as he walked by after giving his son a pat on the back. It was very easy to see where Kim got his strength from. The same could be said for Ivan as Mr. and Mrs.Bruel greeted their son, as both parents could be compared to WWE superstars. Rose's mother, a keen gardener, was as bubbly and kind looking as her daughter and it was easy to see where Rose got her love of pink from. Mrs.Lahiff did some motherly things to her son after she arrived, also telling Marinette and Alya that they were welcome anytime before she too went into the office.

Madam Kurtzberg, Nathaniel's grandmother, was last to arrive with Captain Couffaine. Luka, having come with his and Juleka's mom, helped the elderly woman up the stairs.

"Rise and rebel, land lovers," Captain Couffaine cheered in the students as she passed them, making her two kids slightly embarrassed.

Luka just joined them in the classroom, sitting next to Marinette.

"All Juleka would say was to come to the school as quickly as possible and to not allow mom to bring her sword," he said.

"If I was Juleka, I would have let her bring her sword," Vallia snickered.

"Considering that I've seen you use your bo staff against an akuma, I can see why you would," Adrien said.

"You two have slight violent tendencies, don't you," Alya asks, only getting shrugs in response.

#chloe salt #original character #original miraculous #original heroes #bustier salt #damocles salt #i love salt