#(i sure wonder why I've been giggling and kicking my feet so much today..)

[angeltism]

Oh, did I sneak my way into my lady’s nap time dreams? Apologies my dear, I didn’t mean to. Although it’s a nice thought that I quite enjoy; I’d rather you dream of me because we’ve fallen asleep beside each other with you in my arms, but I’ll take a win where it is given.

Apologies for the late ish message, I’ve been busying myself with homework. Even a knight must try to finish assessments.

Ah, no worries !! No need to apologize for doing homework, tis completely understandable and I'm happy you're taking time to focus on your schooling :3

And no need to apologise for the dream thing either, in fact I'm nyat opposed to you being in my dreams in the slightest, my dear knight. However, falling asleep in your arms and dreaming of you then definitely sounds much nicer than me simply napping all by my lonesome,, I truly cherish the thought ♡

[dira333]

soulmate AU: if your soulmate colors their hair, your hair turns the same color + ATSUMU!!!!!!!!!!

THE WAY I GIGGLED AND KICKED MY FEET OMFGGGGG

for some reason i'm picturing the fic being like a through the years type of thing? where when you're kids your hair is just a normal brown but then in middle and high school it becomes a sort of ombre bleached blonde and it's just your journey with your hair and you wondering why your soulmate doesn't take better care of theirs lol. i also picture it like you see atsumu on tv a lot just because he's a really famous volleyball player and you have a little bit of suspicion but you don't think too much about it because he's really famous and there's no way you would be soulmates with this celebrity (who's known for being boyish and charming and flirty yk).

Let me run from you - Miya Atsumu x Reader

You suppose it could have been worse.

Mukai-chan's hair is a bright red today. Nakao-Kun's lovely black hair has turned an ugly grey color. And Taniguchi-chan chopped off all her curls, not realizing that it's only her hair color that will mark her soulmate.

But you hate it, the garish yellow of your hair. You hadn't mind all the stages before, the dark brown that turned lighter and lighter each month. It had been kinda fun too, not knowing when your soulmate got another chance to see their hairdresser. But now?

You twirl a strand between your fingers.

"You know, it reminds me of gold," Emi, your best friend, points out. "And I could be silver." She points at her own, greyish curls.

You sigh. "That's nice of you. But I think it looks more like piss."

-

"Hey, have you seen that already?" Emi turns the magazine so you can see. It's a poster of some high school Volleyball team.

"What about it?"

"Look at these two." She points at two guys who look eerily similar - well, except for their hair color. "They match. Just like we do."

"Mhm, maybe," you turn your head to squint down at it. "The grey one matches, but the yellow doesn't look as bad on him as it does on me. And who says our soulmates will be related?"

"Excuse me?" Emi scoffs. "Like anything else could be true. You're my platonic soulmate after all."

You snort. "True. Do you want to swap lunch again?"

"Thought you'd never ask. Oh, I made Onigiri last night, do you wanna try the new flavor I came up with?"

-

College is College. Fun and hell at the same time.

"Your hair," one of the girls from your class points out over a cup of something you don't want to taste again. You snort. "Don't remind me. I've tried every toner there is, but I think I need to start at the source."

"No," she starts again, but this time it's Emi who cuts her off, clawing into your arm.

"You'll never believe who I just spotted," she says, voice hushed, breath rushed. "The most beautiful guy to ever exist."

"Oh, so Kageyama Tobio is around?" You joke, but she shakes your arm violently, letting you know this is serious.

"No, no, you don't understand. His hair is the same color as mine. And he's in the kitchen making food, I-"

"Oh, you mean Samu." The two of you turn to the girl. She grins smugly at your now obvious interest in her knowledge.

"He's in my business class. He wants to open a restaurant. He's got a twin brother too. Your hair reminds me of his."

"No way," you wave her off, "If you're talking about the Miya twins you must be mistaken. No way my soulmate could be famous enough to be part of the Miya Twins. He's too dumb to use conditioner."

She laughs. "Oh, boy, are you in for a surprise. I think he's here today. Stay here, I'll get him."

She turns away and you use your chance to grab Emi and go, moving a fast as possible in the direction of the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" She asks, clearly confused.

"Getting out of here and making sure you still meet your soulmate."

"But what if that Miya guy is yours?"

"No way," you shake your head, "I didn't struggle my way through school to be the soulmate of some rich dude. That's too cliché."

You burst through the doors of the kitchen, now face to face with a guy you can only describe as handsome. He's got that lazy smile that Emi's always liked best, arms deep in a bowl of dough.

"Oh, hey," he smiles, "If you're hungry there's some chips and dip in the fridge. Pizza is almost ready to go in the oven too."

"This is my best friend," you tell him, pulling Emi out from behind you, "Avid food blogger, talented cook, and pretty much your soulmate. Thank me later."

She squeaks but you squeeze her shoulder and make a run for the backdoor - you're not sure why they're always located in the kitchen but you're not one to complain tonight.

-

You've almost made it to safety, the curb already in sight, when something hits you in the face - hard enough to let you tumble over, and land face-first in the dirt.

"Oh shit! Are you okay?!"

You groan, push yourself up only to come face to face with the guy from the kitchen - no, his twin. The hair color is different.

"Wow," he grins cheekily, "I knew I'm great but that's the first time someone literally fell at my feet."

"You wish," you snarl, "Is that your way of flirting? Hitting innocent girls?"

"You don't look that innocent," he jokes, "But no, I only do that for the cute ones."

"Har har," you sit up properly, and put a hand to your chin where it hurts the most. "What did you hit me with anyway?"

"Volleyball," he offers you his hand, "Come on, let me help you up."

"Tsumu!" Someone yells from an open window, "Hoga-chan's looking for you, she said- Oh, so you found her."

"Found who?" Tsumu, your attacker, doesn't turn around. His stare is a little unnerving. It would help a lot if he was a little less attractive.

"Your soulmate."

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 9

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG13

Warnings: arguing, harsh language, swearing

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous → Part 8

Next → Part 10

The trek up the stairs from the store to the apartment felt like climbing a never-ending escalator that was going the wrong way. After the day you had had, you were both mentally and physically exhausted and ready to call it a night early.

Thankfully, as if you had finally hit a stroke of luck that day, Keishin had texted you saying that he would pick up dinner on the way home, saving you the exertion of having to leave the apartment again. So, with that information in mind, you kicked off your shoes for the day and fell unceremoniously onto the couch in the living room.

As you sat down, you heard the envelope in your back pocket crinkle and the sudden noise seemed to completely fill the otherwise silent apartment.

Ah yes, the envelope.

Pulling the decision to your future out of your back pocket, you stared at it for what felt like another hour or so. No matter how long you held the envelope in your hands, you couldn't force yourself to open it. You simply didn't want to.

At some point between when your mother had handed it to you and now, you had subconsciously decided that you wanted to choose your own path forward despite what the decision letter may or may not say.

Feeling strangely empowered and confident, you stood to your feet and ventured into the bedroom where you slipped the envelope into one of the drawers Keishin was letting you keep your clothes in and tucked it underneath one of your sweaters. Maybe one day you would open the damn thing when whatever was inside wasn't weighing so heavily on your mind and future, but today was not that day.

Just then, you heard the front door open and knew Keishin had arrived home. Closing the drawer, you plastered a smile across your face and exited the bedroom to greet your boyfriend.

"Welcome home, Dear," you giggled, trying your best to fake the part of a doting housewife. "How was the volleyball game?"

Keishin chuckled softly as you took the takeout bags from him. "It was a close game, but they pulled it together in the last set and won."

"Oh, good!" You placed the bags onto the table before retrieving some plates and chopsticks from the kitchen.

"How was your day?" he asked as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek.

You sighed as you thought back on your day. "It was okay," you answered, not really wanting to go into much more detail than that. You doubted Keishin wanted to hear about your minuscule problems with rude customers after the long day he had clearly had.

Keishin, however, picked up on your uncertainty right away. "Doesn't sound okay," he commented. "Want to talk about it?"

You shrugged. "Just some shitty customers. Seems I had forgotten how poorly low-level workers are treated sometimes . . . just threw me a little," you said. "I'll be fine. Just glad the day is over now."

"You and me both." He flashed a smile as he turned to head for the bedroom. "I'm just going to change quickly and then we'll eat."

"Sounds good." You started dishing out some of the food. "I was also thinking we could watch a movie tonight as well. I could use something to clear my mind."

"Sitting on the couch with a beer is an ideal evening in my book," you heard him respond faintly from the bedroom. "There's a new action movie that came out. I think it's about-"

You waited for Keishin to finish his sentence, but when he didn't, you cocked your head and looked toward the bedroom doorway. Before you had the chance to call out to him, he appeared in the doorway shirtless, eyebrows furrowed and the envelope from the university in his hand.

"W-why do you have that?" you asked, the look on his face upon discovering the letter making your heart drop. "That was in my drawer . . . why were you going through my things?"

"I was looking for my sweater, the one you always steal," he answered. "Y/N . . . what is this?"

Rounding the table and approaching Keishin, you snatched the envelope out of his hand. "That is one of the many reasons why my day today was so shitty."

As you turned to head for the kitchen to toss the envelope in the garbage and rid your life of it, Keishin followed you. "You didn't get in?" he inquired.

You shrugged. "I have no idea. I didn't open it."

As you moved to toss the letter into the trash, Keishin grabbed your wrist and stopped you. "Why are you throwing it out if you didn't open it yet?"

"Because I don't care what it says. I've decided that I'm going to stay here with you and work at the store. This is the life I want . . . the life I get to choose for myself."

"You should still open it," he reasoned. "You might change how you feel about it when you see the result."

"I don't want to change how I feel about it." You shook your head as you gently pried your wrist out of his grip. "No need to make things more difficult than they need to be. I've had enough difficulty for one lifetime, thank you very much. This decision is easy, and best of all, it makes me happy."

Gesturing to the envelope, Keishin sighed. "But this is what you wanted. When you told me about your dream to play soccer at the University of Tokyo, your face lit up. Why are giving up on your dream before you've even given yourself a chance to experience it?"

"Dreams can change, Keishin," you told him before sighing and deciding to humour him for a moment. "Okay, let's say I open this letter and somehow did get in. What then? I couldn't pay for that school in my wildest dreams; not without my parents' help. Sometimes dreams are just childish and unrealistic. So I found a new dream, one with us living here together."

"You could apply for student loans. Tons of people do." He folded his arms across his chest. "I don't think this is about the money or your parents. I think this is about us. You've gotten comfortable here."

Throwing your hands up into the air in exasperation, you huffed. "And so what if I have? Is that really so bad?"

"I just don't want you to throw away an opportunity like this over me."

"Over you?" you cocked a brow. "Because you're, what, trash? Not worth it? A lowlife? A burnout?"

Keishin bit at his bottom lip. "You know what's not what I meant."

Inhaling deeply, you glared down at the god-forsaken envelope in your hand and began to tear at the top. "Let's not fight about something that probably isn't even going to happen." You pulled the letter out and unfolded it, your eyes scanning the text quickly. "The University of Tokyo is notoriously difficult to get into and I-"

Keishin quirked a brow when you stopped mid-sentence. "What does it say?"

A broken laugh was the only thing you could manage as you lowered the letter and shook your head. "Un-fucking-believable." You handed the paper over to Keishin, the edge crumpled from where your grip had tightened when you read the decision.

Keishin looked at the page for all of two seconds before he found the bolded 'Congratulations' and a huge grin spread across his face. "You got in!" He was way more excited than you were about this. "This is good news. You can play soccer at the University of Tokyo. Come on, you can't tell me this doesn't make you at least a little happy."

"I wish it did," you answered honestly. "I wish it were that easy."

"It is! It can be." Keishin set the letter down on the counter and took your hands in his. "Student loans, part-time jobs, it's all possible. Sure, it might be a little tricky to work out, but it's totally possible."

When you didn't respond, Keishin hooked his fingers under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him. "Accept the spot at the university. Follow your dream," he told you.

". . . but I'll have to leave you." You felt the words catch in your throat and tried your hardest not to start crying. "You make me happy—you're the first thing that's made me genuinely happy in a long time—and I don't want to leave that for a chance at something that might not even work out."

"But what if it does work out? You don't know that it won't," he said softly. "Don't end up like me, looking back at your past and wondering what might have been if you had just chosen a different path. I know this might seem good enough for now, but how will you feel after ten or twenty years of working the same dead-end job for the same shit pay all while getting treated like shit by people who look down on you? Look at how one day of catering to pretentious assholes made you feel. Do you really want to live the rest of your life like that?"

"But what about you?" you asked, your voice shaky.

Keishin dropped his head, a few stray strands of hair falling into his face. Unlike that morning, when he had been asleep with loose hairs in his face, he looked annoyed and frustrated now. The bags under his eyes and tension lines on his forehead were a stark contrast to the soft, peaceful face you had woken up to that morning.

"Don't throw this away over me," he repeated. "Don't throw your future away over a 26-year-old burnout."

Lip quivering, you sucked in a deep breath. "I thought you were different . . . but you're just like everyone else."

Keishin eyed you. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You said I should make my own decisions and live my life how I wanted but it was all a facade." You slipped your hand out of his and took a step back. "In the end, you're just like everyone else . . . you think you have a right to plan my future for me without giving me a say in the matter. You want to tell me how to live my life just like my parents."

"How could you say that?" Keishin almost snapped but managed to collect his anger before he did. "All I want is what's best for you."

You scoffed as you wiped a tear from your cheek. "If I had a penny for every time I've heard that I'd have enough money to pay for the University of Tokyo and then you'd get your damn wish . . . I'd be gone."

"When did I ever say I wanted you gone? Why are you so adamant that going to Tokyo means we can't be together?"

"Why are you so against just letting me make my own decision about this?! Why do I have to go to play soccer at that fucking university and leave you? I don't want to leave you!"

"Why not? Why are you so damn hung up on someone like me?!"

"Because I love you!" The two of you froze in place the second those words left your mouth. Chest heaving from the shouting and high emotions, you snapped your mouth shut before you said anything else in the heat of the moment.

Eyes wide, Keishin stared at you like a deer in headlights. "You what?"

You debated whether or not you should repeat what you had said, but by then, the damage had been done. "I love you," you breathed. "And I know you told me not to fall in love with you . . . but I did. I fell hard and fast and now I'm stuck in you and I cannot possibly leave you so please stop asking me to."

You waited for what felt like an eternity for Keishin to say something, say anything. He opened his mouth a few times like he was about to, but nothing ever came out.

"Keishin . . ." You took a cautious step forward. "Please say something."

Keishin swallowed hard before looking you directly in the eyes. "If I said I didn't love you back, would you go?"

You felt your heart crack and the sensation of being punched in the gut spread throughout your entire body. "Is that what you're saying? You don't love me?"

"If I didn't, would you leave?"

You inhaled sharply. "If you look me in the eyes right now and tell me that you don't feel the same way that I do; that everything over the past few months has meant nothing to you, there would be no possible way I could stay in Miyagi," you answered truthfully. "If you tell me that you don't love me and that you never have, I would have no reason to stay in this prefecture."

Keishin's lips parted once more. "Y/N . . . I-" His brown eyes locked onto yours and you could feel what he was about to say even though he never did. "I . . . I can't do this right now."

With that, he brushed past you, grabbed a sweater from the bedroom and threw it on before storming out of the apartment, leaving you and the now cold takeout food alone.

Tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat, you turned to look over your shoulder at the decision letter sitting on the counter, practically taunting you.

You should have thrown the thing out the second your mom dropped it off. Or better yet, maybe you should have never made that deal with Keishin and applied for the university in the first place.

[wrong-way-sir]

Your boyfriend Shuuji Hanma isn't a man of comforting words and tends to come off as cold or uncaring but when it matters most you can always count on him to calm your worries no matter how trivial the subject might seem.

Requested by: @dabisfireflower

CW: GN Y/N, Aged!Up Hanma, Possible Tokyo Revenger spoilers, Light Angst, Curse Words, a little bit of an argument, Hanma isn't good with words, Mentions of Smoking, Fluff, and little to no proofreading! ♡

1.9k Words

1:50 P.M.

Your eyes stared at the analog clock that hung over the TV in your apartment living room. The feeling hadn't come back to your fingers, you felt like you had pin-needles digging into your thighs, and the only feeling present was the tingling of your face. Your fingers twisted the end of your hair as anxiety ran through you while you waited for the handles of the clock to reach 2:30 P.M.

You had to leave at 2:30 P.M. to arrive at the salon at 3 o'clock. Your body refused to remove itself from the couch until then. To be honest you don't know if you would even be able to walk with how your anxiety was treating you. Why did you even make the damn appointment? You thought to yourself as you pulled on the end of your hair hard enough to ache slightly and pull you out of the spiral of thoughts.

As trivial as it sounded the thought of chopping off your hair at the salon filled you with dread. You had spent so many years growing it out but to your dismay it hadn't had been for the better. You had realized only a few days ago while trying to dye it with box dye how bad your hair's state was, all the dye, the heat, the different products had left you hair beyond repair.

Scheduling a haircut hadn't been your original idea. It had been your boyfriend's. He had thrown it out nonchalantly and the moment it left his lips your heart picked up its pace. Shuuji didn't know about this anxiety, nor would he care about it if you told him so you had done as he suggested and scheduled a haircut.

"I'm coming in, it's Shuuji."

Your head shot to the door of your apartment where Shuuji was kicking off his shoes as he fumbled with his jacket. A half smoked cigarette hung from his lips, unlit. A deep breath escaped you and your hand that had been twisting the dead ends of your hair dropped to your thighs.

"Hey Princess," Shuuji smiled as he made his way towards you on the couch. You watched as he removed unlit stick from his mouth and he leaned down to place a kiss to your forehead before he fell onto the couch next to you, "You miss me? Of course you did." He giggled as he kicked his feet up onto the coffee table.

A smiled placed itself on your features at the soft kiss coming from your boyfriend. It had relieved a small tension you had in your shoulders as Shuuji sat next to you. You were more than happy to see him. He would help you get your mind off your hair for the next 30 minutes.

"Shuuji get your feet off the table!" You protested as you smacked his thigh. He rolled his eyes as he removed his feet and placed them back on the carpet, "Why are you here? I thought you were busy today with Kisaki and the rest?" You asked as you sunk back into your old couch as Shuuji shrugged.

"Like I give a shit about those guys," Shuuji said and you sighed, "Only guy I even remotely care for is Kisaki and even then he's a bit much. Plus he said he had someone else to fuck Toman's plans up, gave me the day off, so I thought I would come see my baby."

You shook your head in disbelief, you knew your boyfriend was involved with the gang life but you hadn't minded it all that much as long as he didn't show up with a bullet wound on your door step or in a body bag. Although you had to admit, him working for that weirdo Kisaki made you uncomfortable but for Shuuji you shook it off.

"Well, thank Kisaki for me next time. Now you can get my mind off things until I leave." You smiled and he hummed in agreement before his features turned into confusion with a head tilt.

"Eh? Where are you going, work?" He asked and you rolled your eyes, of course your boyfriend hadn't remembered about your hair appointment even when you had to repeat yourself for a week straight. Sometimes you wondered if Shuuji ever thought of anything besides his own plans.

"Shuuji, I told you so many times, I'm getting my hair cut today."

"Oh yeah, I forgot... Why do you need to get your mind off of that it's just a stupid haircut." Shuuji said as he stretched out more on your couch, his head falling back onto the back of it.

You pursed your lips into a tight line as you looked over at your boyfriend relaxing. Your eyes fell to your fingers as they picked at your cuticles from the anxiety growing again at the way Shuuji had blown off your feelings.

"It's not just a stupid haircut, Shuuji..." You mumbled and you felt his gaze turn to you, "I've grown it out for so long... I'm chopping of so much of it, I'm scared."

Your eyes looked back over to Shuuji who looked back with a unfazed expression. His eyes traveled to your hair and he gave a hum as his head fell back once again and you gave a defeated sigh.

"You need it though, you hair's all frizzy and dead.... Looks like shit anyways who cares if you chop it off?" He chuckled and you whipped your head towards him with a look of disbelief and annoyance on your face.

"I do, Shuuji!" You said almost a little too loudly. It caused him to flinch as his head shot up to connect eyes with you, a mumbled apology left your lips as you turned to the coffee table in front of you that your boyfriend had previously put his feet on. "What if short hair looks ugly on me or what if it takes too long to grow back? I'll be stuck looking like an idiot. Not to mention I've never been to the hairdresser I scheduled with and I'm also terrified you're not gonna like it so yeah, I care, okay?"

Silence fell and your eyes didn't leave your clenched fists. Worry started to set in again as you two sat next to each other. You already felt idiotic for being so nervous and the fact you had gotten so defensive with your boyfriend of your dried and damaged hair only added to the internal humiliation.

You could feel your boyfriend's gaze on the side of your face as you stared at your hands. Another apology was bubbling up in your throat but as you went to turn to him you saw his tattooed hand take yours. Shuuji rested his chin on your shoulder as he grasped your hand. His shallow breath tickled your face.

"Shuuji-"

"It's just a haircut, babe." Shuuji said softly and you sighed for the umpteenth time while letting out a panicked chuff, "You'll figure a way to look good with it no matter how short. Hey, and if it really does look that bad then I'll just shave my head that way we can both be ugly. We'll be that hot ugly couple."

A laugh replaced the bubble in your throat as you imagined your boyfriend bald. Shuuji chuckled with you as his chin continued to rest on your shoulder. The laughter grew with each image that popped into your mind and you boyfriend laughed with you because he had made you. Soon enough you were both giggling like children on your couch with the anxiety you once had gone.

A few more chuckles escaped you and you let your free hand swipe under your eye as you felt them watering. You cleared your throat and shook your head, your tangled hair falling in your face. You paused as you felt Shuuji's fingers take the hair and put it behind you ear. You turned to him to see a wide smile on his face and leaned into his hand as it cupped your face. His eyes scanned your features and he let out a sigh as he dropped his hand.

"Nah, I couldn't do that. Then I really would be the ugly one in the relationship." He laughed as he fell back to the couch and let out at grunt when your free hand collided with his side.

"Shut up, you're not ugly, you always look good." You mumbled and dropped your chin into your propped up hand.

"So do you! I don't know why you're so nervous, it's just hair it grows back but if you're really that nervous about it... I can go with you, keep your stylist in line make sure they know if they fuck up I'll be waiting for them outside."

A laugh left you once again as you shook your head fondly at your boyfriend's threat. You smiled at his offer and your felt yourself relax at the thought of Shuuji be near you during the haircut. You honestly didn't think you would be able to do it alone.

"Really, you'll go with me?" You asked as you hoped he hadn't been joking like he always did.

Shuuji gave a nod and let his eyes glance at the clock that hung over the TV. He gave a sigh and pushed himself up, yanking his hand from your in the process. You frowned at the loss of warmth and looked up just as he bent down to place a kiss to your lips.

"Alright baby, let's go, I brought my bike." Shuuji said as walked away from your sitting form and to the door to slip his jacket and boots back on.

Your eyes glanced at the clock once again to see how much time had passed. You bit the inside of your cheek as you stared at the clock that was telling you it was time to leave and get this whole ordeal over with. You pushed your hair back as if you were also pushing you anxiousness to the back of your head before you turned to your boyfriend who was slipping on his gang jacket.

A smile returned to your face as you watched him. You were thankful to have him in your life for little things like this. Despite his personality and the way he spoke you knew your boyfriend cared just as much as you did. You also knew he would try to fix anything for you and make you laugh even if the threat of violence was followed. You loved him for that, you loved that he cared for you the way you did for him.

"Shuuji," You called to him and he looked over you as he finished putting on his jacket with a soft hum. "Thank you, I love you."

"Who wouldn't love me, I'm great." He gave you a devious smirk along with an arch of his eyebrow as he puffed out his jacket collar and you rolled your eyes as you reached back to grab a pillow from the couch to through it at him. To your dismay he caught it and chuckled, "Kidding, you know I love you baby. Now come on, I like it when you hold on to me while we ride."

You watched as your boyfriend jangled his motorcycle key and you shook your head with a laugh as you pushed yourself from the couch to follow him out the door.

[mypimpademia]

Worth It.

Shinso x reader

TW: Swearing, reader steals a man, pure bad bitchery

Note: this concept has been in my head for literal MONTHS and now I'm finally writing it bc i had no idea how to before (i still dont know how to write it as I'm writing this, I'm bouta wing it like a mf)

I made Intelli the mean girl for this fic bc she a bitch fr

A college AU but its hardly relevant + a lil smau

Towards the end of writing this, I started hating it. I'm so sorry😭

I recommend this song too bc this is where the idea for this fic came from:

This was getting annoying to watch.

How long was Hitoshi planning to stay miserable with that girl?

Intelli and Hitoshi have been dating for awhile now. You had honestly never liked her, but you just barely tolerated her for Hitoshi. But only a few weeks into their relationship, things went to shit.

Intelli became overly controlling over him, and even tried to force him to stop being friends with you, and some other people. You, being his best friend, told him to break up with her.

Of course, Hitoshi agreed that it'd be best to do that. But not even a few hours after talking to him about it, he came back to say it didn't go as planned.

Intelli was holding blackmail over Hitoshi's head, and posed a huge threat to his dreams of becoming a hero. Most of what she said she'd expose was no where near true, but with her intellect she could easily make people believe it.

But frankly, as their relationship went on, the sight of even a strand of her hair made you want to either puke or fight her.

"Toshi~" Intelli cooed, coming up behind Hitoshi and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Hitoshi visibly cringed, but tried to hide it as best as he could.

"Hey, babe." He boredly muttered, doing a terrible job at faking any enthusiasm.

Unlike your best friend, you made no effort to hide the disgust you held for her sheer presence.

"Y/n..." Intelli muttered, her tone dripping with distaste for you, making you scoff. "Mind if I steal Toshi for a bit? No? Thanks-" She attempted to drag Hitoshi away by the arm, but you placed a firm hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"I do mind actually, we were in the middle of a conversation before you interrupted." You told her. She chuckled, before tugging on Hitoshi's arm more.

"Yes, but he's my boyfriend-" She attempted to give reason for her to take him away, before even Hitoshi stopped her.

"I've got a project I need Y/n to help me on, I can stop by your dorm later though?" Hitoshi suggested, lying through his teeth.

Intelli's eyebrow twitched, but she gave in, letting go of his arm. "Bye, Toshi." She said, kissing Hitoshi's cheek and looking you up and down, before walking off.

"Sometimes, I can't tell if she's just plain a bitch or if she's secretly a dumbass." You sighed. "Maybe she's a little bit of both..." Hitoshi chuckled, making you laugh with him.

"You really need to find someone new." You told him, shaking your head. "I know, but I'd rather not chance losing my dream career." He groaned.

"True... Whats your type anyways? I know its not Intell anymore, she's probably traumatized you." You giggled.

"She did, but I think my type is someone who can really understands me, and someone I can have fun with." Hitoshi said.

"Like a best friend?" You questioned him. "Yeah, exactly like a best friend. That'd be my perfect version of a s/o." He replied, expression growing soft.

Since Intelli and Hitoshi's relationship had gone down hill, you've been there for him more than ever. It eventually lead to this unspoken romance that constantly roamed between the two of you.

But because of Intelli, neither of you pursued it, for the wellbeing of Hitoshi.

"Well, if I were you, I'd find someone and just make sure the bitch doesn't find out." You told him. But if you were being honest, it was more like a suggestion, because he really did need, and deserve someone other than Intelli.

"Like cheating?" He gawked. You were both thinking the same thing— Intelli would likely find out. But it was better than simply being stuck with her, so you nodded.

"Well, I'd at least make sure the other person knows. But it'd be worth it."

'I'm worth it.' You thought.

You sighed, looking down at your phone, the time on your phone displayed.

"Shit, I've gotta get to class, we've got a guest lecturing us and my professor will tear me a new one if I miss it." You told him, stuffing your phone into your pocket.

"See you later?" Hitoshi asked you.

You were about to say something about how he told Intelli they'd hang out later, but decided against it.

"Yeah."

◇◇◇◇◇◇

You sighed, feeling your tired feet throb as you walked down the hall to Hitoshi's dorm. Taking one of your backpack straps off your shoulder, you began rummaging around the pocket where you usually kept the spare key to Hitoshi's dorm.

You blinked, as you weren't able to find the key in the small pocket. You began searching your entire bag in the middle of the hallway, taking nearly everything out.

"Shit." You mumbled, thinking you had lost it.

Then you remembered, 'Thats right, I was in a rush this morning. Its on my desk.' You thought to yourself.

Like hell you were going all the way back there though.

You placed your items back into their bags, then pulled out your phone to text Hitoshi.

You hummed, rocking back and forth on your heels as you waited for the door to be opened.

A moment later, you heard the lock click, and the door swung open.

Hitoshi looked you up and down before smiling. Then looked both ways of the hall, before tugging you into the room and shutting the door.

"Why are you treating me like a side piece or something?" You questioned him.

He hummed in confusion as he locked the door.

"Does it feel like that? Sorry." He apologized. "What did she do this time?" You asked, referring to Intelli, as she wash the only person the put Hitoshi this on edge.

"She said if we were doing anything other than a project we'd break up, and you know what that means." He told you, shaking his head.

You hummed, and pulled out your phone.

"What are you doing?" He asked, peering over your shoulder.

"You'll see." You blunty told him.

You sent your message, and tossed your phone onto his bed.

You grabbed onto Hitoshi's collar, tugging him towards you so he was looking you in the eyes, making his breath hitch as his face tinted red.

"You're crazy if you think I'd get you snitched on." You playfully consoled.

"What did you do?" He questioned again, watching you flop down on his bed as you kicked off your shoes.

"I texted Monoma and Momo to post about a project on private snap that only has Intelli on it so that it'll be more believable." You told him.

Hitoshis eyes went wide, as he mentally questioned how you came up with that so fast.

You patted the space next to you, beckoning him to sit with you.

He sat down, shaking his head and laughing.

You and Hitoshi talked for hours and hours, but it each flew by. When you finally checked the time, you barely had enough time left before dorm visiting hours were over.

"What? Already?" Hitoshi gaped, as he watched you sling your backpack over your shoulder.

"Mhm." You hummed.

He groaned, clearly not wanting you to leave, but sat up anyways so he could come see you out.

Hitoshi unlocked the door for you, but upon opening the door, you were both met with an unwanted sight.

"Hey Toshi!" Intelli greeted, completely passing over you even though she saw you.

"H-hey, Intelli." Hitoshi spurred, trying to keep composure.

"I came to help on the project. Even Momo was complaining, so I thought you could use some help." She offered, clearly not convinced that there was actually a project.

But like you said, you weren't going to let him get caught.

"No, we finished it." You told her bluntly, folding your arms across your chest.

But clearly, Intelli didn't plan on letting up either.

"Well then, I could proof read the written portion." She insisted, taking a step towards you.

"We already did that already."

"Well I'm sure there are some mistakes."

"We triple checked."

Hitoshi looked back and forth between the two of you, silently preparing himself to break up a fight.

"You must not get what I mean—" Intelli straightened her posture more than it already was, and leaned towards you. "There's probably mistakes because it was you helping him." She mocked.

Hitoshi already had a hand reaching for your waist, ready to pull you back in a situation where you lunge at Intelli.

"You wanna talk about mistakes? How about we start with you, bit-" Before you could take a single step towards her, you were being pulled back by your waist.

"Watch your dog, Hitoshi." Intelli retorted.

Damn, was she lucky Hitoshi could hold you back.

"At least I bite, unlike some people." You shot back. She narrowed her eyes, leaning towards you again.

"Y'know Y/n, you're not as good as everyone thinks you are. Everyone thinks you're so great, and nice, but I know how you really are." She said.

"You only think that because everyone's not you. Its no goddamn wonder your blackmail folder is thicker than you." You hissed.

Intelli, clearly flustered that you even knew about her blackmail folder, stood straight again. She crossed her arms and cleared her throat slightly.

"You think youre so much better than me. A better person, a better best friend, you probably think you'd make a better girlfriend too, right?" She asked you.

"Of course I do, who the hell wouldn't?" You chuckled.

You felt Hitoshi's grip on your waist loosen. Either he was getting just as angry and was going to let you fight her, or he thought it the tension was thawing.

"Alright, since you're so much better than me, show me." Intelli insisted.

You smirked. "Alright, you asked for it."

Slipping out of Hitoshi's grip, you turned to face him.

His brows raised in surprise and confusion. And next thing he knew, you had him by the collar for the second time today.

But this time, your lips were pressed against his.

It took him a moment to process, but soon, he melted into it. Moving in sync with you, he placed his hands back on your waist.

As much as you wanted to continue, you still had to tell that bitch off.

Pulling away from Hitoshi, wiping away the string of saliva that connected your mouths, you turned back to Intelli.

You walked straight up to her, and placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Toshi doesn't react like that when you kiss him, does he?" You hummed, hearing Intelli audibly gulp.

"Like you said, I'm a better person, a better best friend, and a better girlfriend." You repeated her words from earlier.

"I wouldn't lie to him, expose him, whether what he did was true or false, and i wouldn't hold him back from doing what he wants." You taunted.

"And the thing is—" You leaned in, next to her ear.

"I dont think it, I know it."

"I'm perfect for him." You whispered to her.

Intelli nearly toppled over in defeat, leaning against the nearest wall to support her body.

"Anyways, see you tomorrow, Toshi." You mused, before walking away.

◇◇◇◇◇◇

The next day, you met up with Hitoshi in your free time like usual.

You were aimlessly walking around campus, talking about random topics, laughing as you watched random people do stupid things, and just having fun.

Except now, you were hand in hand, and the air around the two of you seemed lighter. And the look of adoration you and Hitoshi shared was more evident.

But in the middle of it, of course, something had to happen.

Intelli had stopped you both in your tracks, her brainless groupies behind her.

"Did you know everyone is talking about you, Hitoshi? And with all the things they're saying... you might not be able to recover from it." She said snarkily.

"Not too worried about it actually." Hitoshi admitted, a slightly bored tone to his voice.

"Tch, well you should be. So tell me, was she worth it, Hitoshi?" She inclined.

Hitoshi looked over at you, a grin spreading across his face.

"Hell yeah."

[mythicamagic]

Childhood: a Kohrin oneshot

Summary: Two teenagers sneak off one night to the beach, reflecting on their pasts. Despite the grim subject, Rin somehow always manages to make him smile. Kohaku x Rin oneshot

3,000 words

Childhood

Laughing, racing, tumbling, grinning. Gaped teeth, freckles, dirt between toes, teasing brothers, sunbathing, cool creaks, bare feet and squawking kappas. The scatter of petals and grass kicked into the air, the scent of campfires, sunflowers, crispy fish and cooking fungi. Assuring golden eyes keeping vigilance over her sleep, along with the steady rhythmic breathing of a two-headed dragon keeping her warm. These are all the things Rin chose to remember about childhood.

She remembered and kept them close, especially at night, gliding through memories masquerading as dreams.

In the years after travelling with the stoic lord and staying with Kaede at her village, her limbs had changed- becoming gangly, form lean and growing with burgeoning maturity. She'd adapted to her environment, forming strong friendships with her mentor and the Inutachi. However, despite her days being spent in quiet happiness, she couldn't help but notice a few things. A perpetual absence. A certain searching look in Sango's eyes whenever she glanced up from monitoring her three children to stare off into the trees.

Tossing and turning beneath the covers, Rin frowned in her sleep.

One person who remained elusive in both her dreams and the waking world was-

A crooning noise startled her upright, brown eyes flying wide. Stumbling from her futon and hurrying from Kaede's hut, she peered out into the night inquisitively.

From within the forest, she could see a faint orange glow peeking out between the trees. Tightening her sleeping yukata around her, Rin's lips pursed. She then stubbornly sought out the glow, bare feet padding over cool dirt.

She found him, as predicted, watching Sango's hut.

Kohaku stood, a little further along into his maturity than her. Even the dense shadows couldn't quite hide the changes in his height and features. Rin stopped the second he caught notice of her- a telltale wariness gripping him a moment before recognition painted his face.

"Rin," he said with relief, tone soon slipping into a resigned reprimand. "What're you doing out so late? You should be asleep."

"So should you," she smiled easily, rocking on her heels. She gave a wave to Kirara, who hopped onto Kohaku's shoulder after transforming into a small version of herself and mewling. "It's a strange hour for you to come back. Sango won't be able to greet you with a lively smile-" lively chatter broke off the second she noticed the older boy direct his gaze to his feet. "Oh… unless… you don't plan on staying long?" Rin murmured. Again.

For some reason, it was always the same with him. Lord Sesshoumaru's brief visits didn't bother her in the least. He barely had a connection to the village. But Kohaku? He should've been there, stayed there. She knew Sango missed him terribly but he barely made time to visit.

However, she didn't voice any of this. She'd done so before, and Sango's assurances never seemed to help him. Guilt continued to gnaw like an infected wound at her friend.

Rin observed his freckled face in the torch light, seeing the emotions swimming within vibrant brown eyes.

"You know I would if I could. But…" the silence of the forest swallowed up the remainder of what he wanted to say. Rin shifted her bare feet, drawing closer and taking his coarse, demon-slaying hand.

"Let's go somewhere."

"Huh?"

"I want to go to the beach," she said decisively, as though he had no say in the matter. Kohaku supposed he didn't when she got like this. "Come on, Kaede says the ocean air is good for you. Hurry, before everyone wakes up," Rin tugged on his hand.

Kohaku smiled slightly, giving in far too easily.

---

Kirara touched down on sandy shores an hour later, allowing them to slide off her back. Rin stretched and sucked in a long breath of salty sea air.

"Ahh! Now isn't that better?" she grinned.

Kohaku snorted and smiled good-naturedly, looking out at the black sea with a quiet, observing look. "I haven't been to the beach in a long time."

"Why not?"

Kohaku wandered out, boots crunching on pebbles until they were cushioned by sand, leaving moonlit footprints. "I want to say I haven't had time, but that's not true," he chuckled. "It just hasn't occurred to me to go. That I'd enjoy it."

At 16, Rin still didn't feel old enough nor wise enough to understand everything. She wasn't a firecracker like Kagome had been around her age, and she didn't see herself as a warrior like Sango. However, there were some things Rin knew how to do.

Following, Rin took his hand in passing, tugging to ensure he'd stumble after her. She walked right up to the shoreline, drinking in the dark, hushed atmosphere only broken by the sound of waves crashing against rocks.

"Take off your boots."

Kohaku blinked, raising a brow. His lips quirked, "you sure are bossy today."

Giggling, she wriggled bare toes into the sand- squealing when the cool tide rushed in and splashed about her ankles before drawing back. "You used to walk around barefoot all the time, just like me."

"When I was a kid," he reminded her.

"Are you implying something?" Rin huffed. "I'll tell Uncle Inuyasha you said that."

"No, I wasn't trying to say-" his hasty words cut off, noting her mischievous expression. Kohaku smiled and leaned down as though to take off his boots- suddenly thrusting his hands into the surf and splashing her.

Shrieking and gasping, Rin gaped with surprise- soon grinning viciously wide and leaping towards him. Kohaku quickly dodged. He began running, hotly pursued by the petite young woman. An unexpected noise rang out into the night. Boyish, happy laughter.

Earthy brown eyes widened and even as Rin sprinted, panting, she drank in the sound of Kohaku laughing. How strange, rare and wonderful it was.

Running fast and putting all her energy into her legs, Rin leapt at his back. Catching him around the middle, she collided hard against him.

With an undignified yelp from a demon slayer, Kohaku lost his footing, toppling gracelessly to the ground, kicking up sand. Giggling breathlessly, Rin spat some from her mouth and lifted her head.

"You went down easy. Are you sure you slay demons?" she teased, nestling against the warmth of his back.

Kohaku shifted, shaking sand from his ponytail and adjusting their positions so that they were facing each other, laying on their sides. He wiped his face, expression clearly trying to remain unaffected and firm- but breaking into a tender smile.

"You always do this," he mused quietly.

"Hm? I don't think I've ever tackled you into the sand before," Rin felt fairly confident about that.

"That's not what I mean, it's just that you always make me feel... something different. Something good."

"But we had that argument about how best to stew nettles the other day," she pointed out.

A chuckle escaped him, soulful gaze sober. "Even that felt good to me."

Tilting her head against the dry, soft dune, both fell silent. Despite being a chatter-box, Rin also knew when to be quiet and let him talk. Her hand inched out naturally for his, and Kohaku accepted it, grasping her palm in a way that made her feel secure and safe. They'd known each other for many years so some things came as easy as breathing. Other things, like talking about it, came slowly, painfully.

"Why won't they go away?" Kohaku murmured in a hushed tone for only her to hear. "The nightmares. The memories," his gaze shook. "I just want to stop seeing it every time I look at Sango, but its there, in the back of my mind. I don't... feel right being around my nieces and nephew."

"You're still scared you'll hurt them?" there was no judgment in her tone. Assuring him that Naraku was dead and gone didn't help. Kohaku was perfectly aware of that.

The young man ducked his head, lips thin. His larger, rougher hand in hers trembled. "What if it's still there?" he whispered. "The compulsion to hurt people. I could be living my life- I could marry-" his eyes avoided hers. "Have children, but then one day I hear his voice again and the memory is too strong to resist. I could do something awful."

Dark brows pulled together, heart-squeezing in her ribcage. She wanted to help so badly. However, there was nothing she could do but keep trying to assure him and listen. "Even if you hear him, I believe in you, Kohaku," Rin stroked a thumb over his scarred knuckles. "You'd fight it. You're getting stronger all the time."

He looked exhausted, running a hand through his hair and sighing. "I'm so tired of being scared," he mumbled, glancing wearily at her. "You're still scared too, aren't you?"

Her face lost its girlish innocence, becoming firm as she sat up. "I've told you before- I'm not afraid of you, Kohaku!" she insisted hotly. "I haven't been since I was 8!"

Kohaku shifted his muscular body, and it was times like those she noticed how much larger and different he'd become. She blushed slightly but kept her expression serious.

"I wasn't talking about that," he chuckled, gaze becoming gentle. Careful fingers minded some dark hair from her face. "Your nightmares. You still have nightmares about your childhood too, right?"

Rin blinked, feeling cold and releasing his hand to wrap both arms around herself. The brush of cool night air gliding over her skin suddenly felt a little too chilly.

A soft croon rumbled out seconds before Kirara's large form settled down behind them. Lustrous buttercup coloured fur bumped against Rin's back, and she nestled against the nekomata's side gratefully.

"We don't have to discuss it if you don't want to," Kohaku said with concern, leaning back against the demon as well.

Forcing a cheery smile, Rin shook her head. "I'm fine- I've actually come up with something that helps me sleep most nights now, and I thought it might help you too."

"What is it?"

Tilting her head back to gaze at the stars above, she smiled a little more naturally. "I think of all the good things in my childhood. Laughing, racing, tumbling, grinning. Gaped teeth, freckles, dirt between toes, teasing brothers, sunbathing, cool creaks, bare feet and squawking kappas. The scatter of petals and grass kicked into the air, the scent of campfires, sunflowers, crispy fish and cooking fungi. Assuring golden eyes keeping vigilance over my sleep, along with the steady rhythmic breathing of a two-headed dragon keeping me warm."

Kohaku stared at her with no short amount of amazement. He swallowed and looked down at the sand.

"You're strong," he breathed. "To be able to separate all the good things from the bad."

"You can do it too," grabbing his hand again, Rin inched closer with an encouraging nod. "Tell me some things you remember. Happy things."

Kohaku blushed a little at her proximity and cleared his throat, thinking. "Sango. She was always there for me."

"What else?"

His eyes seemed to haze slightly, "Father…"

"Push through it, Kohaku," she murmured. "There was a time before all the bad stuff. Was he kind?"

Kohaku blinked, firm fingers squeezing hers as he came back to himself, exhaling. He chuckled shyly, "he was a little strict, but he meant well."

Rin shifted closer, resting beside him shoulder to shoulder, knee bumping his. Kohaku rested his head back against Kirara's soft fur and began recounting things long since buried. Things he hadn't thought he could remember or appreciate anymore. The guilt was there, it always would be, but it felt further away, replaced with a bitter-sweet tang.

"Practicing, running, training, laughing, chasing yellow nekomatas," he scratched Kirara's ear. "Butterflies, bare-feet, hunting- freeing rabbits from traps because I didn't want to see them get killed. Father yelling. Father's hand gently resting on my h-head," the words stumbled. "Playing, flower gathering, flying on Kirara. The smell of the blacksmiths. Sweat. Forging weapons. Sango snoring."

Rin gasped and giggled, watching as his fingers slid through the gaps between her own.

"Warming my hands on the brazier. Talking. Listening. Stories around the campfire. Demon slayers, family," Kohaku murmured, voice thick with memories. He closed his eyes, falling silent.

"You did really well," cuddling against him, Rin pecked his cheek.

Kohaku glanced down at her, "I haven't talked about that stuff out loud before. I didn't think I could anymore."

Grinning, she put her nose in the air, imitating Jaken. "Humph well, I am rather good at talking. Getting other people to talk is my speciality ~"

Chuckling, he nudged his free hand against her forehead gently, brown eyes incredibly warm. "Can we do this again sometime? There's probably more we can remember."

Blinking, Rin gentled and squeezed his fingers, "of course we can. Anytime, Kohaku. But you know… Sango might want to hear some of this too- when you're ready," she added quickly.

His face became a touch more guarded, which broke her heart. He was so afraid of hurting Sango again. For a demon slayer, the young man was heavily weighed down by empathy.

Rin touched his freckled cheek, "Kohaku?"

He shook his head slightly and gave a smile to show he was alright. "Never mind that. How'd you get to be so brave talking about this stuff?"

Humming, she let her fingers linger, dragging down to his jaw. It looked and felt strong beneath her touch. "I probably couldn't talk about it out loud if you weren't here. You make me feel brave."

Before her fingers left his face, her hand was caught. Kohaku pushed it back to rest against his cheek, tilting his face into her palm.

"Likewise," he mumbled.

Cheeks warming, Rin felt her heart stutter and thrum wildly in her chest. It was weird. Kohaku was so incredibly dear to her. She loved being close to him, but lately, butterflies just wouldn't stop fluttering in her stomach.

Seeming to sense her confusion, Kohaku released her slack hand and gently returned it to her. He then turned to his boots and began tugging them off.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm doing as you bossily suggested earlier," standing, he gave a small smile, offering a hand down to her.

Rin accepted it, following as he walked to the shoreline. Stepping onto the wet sand, a noise of surprise and shook escaped the demon slayer as the tide rushed in.

Biting her lip, Rin tried and failed to suppress mirthful laughter. "Did you just squeal?"

"No. You're imagining things," Kohaku grinned.

The ocean lapped around their ankles, slowly receding, before sweeping a fresh wave of cool, dark water against their skin.

Kohaku gradually adjusted, looking out at the endless stretch of ocean brightened by the moon. Rin breathed in a lungful of the fresh air, slowly relaxing with him.

The tired lines beneath Kohaku's kind eyes seemed to soften, not entirely going away, but his face appeared young once more, gaining a healthy glow.

Rin held onto his hand throughout. He was the only one she felt so strangely at peace with. Lord Sesshoumaru and Kaede were protective presences, but neither really knew her, or her secrets. No one understood everything that had happened in her life, though she'd divulged some things.

She'd told Kohaku everything. When the boys at the village whispered among themselves that she was strange, a shape-shifter, a hanyou girl in disguise, Rin would smile. Because they didn't need to know or understand. Kohaku accepted her oddness, an outlier himself. Perhaps they were Hanyou children in a way.

Like Uncle Inuyasha, they didn't quite fit into human society. They were too strange. Too changed, different because of what they'd seen and experienced, never quite meshing despite their best efforts to.

But that was alright.

She'd asked Uncle Inuyasha about it once, Lord Sesshoumaru in their presence. Inuyasha had met Sesshoumaru's gaze, voice gruff.

"Well, there was no place for me, so I had to make one for myself, and then I realized, I had a place, but I was the only one in it."

Lord Sesshoumaru had seemed quiet and considering of his words.

Rin understood. Gazing at Kohaku right then, she felt he would too. The two humans who had died too young. Kohaku was part of her space, and she was in his.

Catching her eye, he smiled. Just as naturally as holding hands, he leaned down and rested their foreheads together. Rin let out a whoosh of hot air, lashes fluttering shut. The press of his head against hers felt intimate and sweet.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and shifted her head, lips inches from his, face burning. Kohaku's eyes cracked open wide, before gazing solemnly at her. He wrestled with something- and she thought he might pull away.

Kohaku then snuffed out the rest of the distance between them, lips pressing against hers in a chaste kiss.

White-hot feeling burst within the young woman like shooting stars. Butterflies turned into hummingbirds. Her lips burned.

They pulled away, both avoided each other's gazes a moment, reeling. They then caught one another's eye and slowly, shyly smiled. Because they were still the same, just a little different from before.

"Let's go back to the village," Kohaku murmured, noticing the first hues of sunlight brightening the horizon. "I think… I'll try talking to Sango."

Rin nodded, smiling with palpable relief.

He glanced at her, expression remaining vulnerable, fragile heart laid bare for her to see. Kohaku trusted her to handle it gently.

"And Rin?"

"Yes?"

He blushed slightly, squeezing her hand. "Let's come back to the beach sometime soon."

Rin's face burst into a wide grin, giggling a little breathlessly.

"I'd love to!"

---

End

[bunny-wk-fanfic]

This Is Brought To You By

The door opened to a rustic cabin, the natural wood glowing amber thanks to a roaring fire. Worn dark leather seating seemed hazy thanks to said fire light, each piled with plush pillows and draped with cozy throws or blankets. A low table had been laid out with candles, a bottle of wine was being kept chilled in a classy and slightly modern ice bucket with two glasses just off to the side. The only splash of color amongst the glow of the fire, the natural wood and stone textures were a small handful of red roses, loose petals just lightly scattered about. With the help of the slow jazz playing softly in the background, it made for a very romantic atmosphere.

"Well, hello there." the male voice was a slightly low purring drawl, drawing attention to the male figure sprawled across an almost stereotypical bear rug. "Deadpool here. Hopefully, while reading this, you're hearing the voice of a certain sexy male Canadian. I'm sure you know the one. And I don't mean the short, hairy one with anger issues and kitty claws and a fondness for cigars. Unless of course said angry man is being represented by a beautiful, beautiful wild Australian man. Because if then, well, lather me in hot sauce and spank my Chimichanga. But I'm getting off track here."

Fingers drummed against a knee, drawing the attention to the missing and familiar red and black outfit, and more importantly, to the lack of proper attire.

"Yes, my current outfit has to do with the reason we are here today. It's come to my attention, that it's been some time since we last met, or that our beloved writer has written anything involving our favorite woman. And more importantly, our favorite woman when involved with me." a single white rose was plucked from behind, waved about as if a magic wand, and dragged across a scarcely clad male thigh that was pocked with fresh wounds that were instantly scaring. "As such, I decided to… encourage our beloved writer into bringing us all together once again."

With a dramatic wave of limbs, he moved from reclining on his side, that screamed 'Paint my like your French women', to leaning back on his elbows. The pale pink satin nighty, the atmosphere, and the pose would have been more than alluring were the one in said pose a woman. With the male, the nighty was rather comically stretched across his frame, though covering everything important, the sheer robe with fluffy cuffs only adding to the oddity of the entire situation. It clashed with the fact that he still wore his iconic red and black full head cowl.

"Now, our lovely writer might say otherwise about my encouragement, calling it nagging, whining or say I simply began to annoy her until she finally relented. Ignore those words and continue to read mine with the amazing drawl of a voice provided by the Canadian sex symbol; my pal, my bosom buddy, Ryan Reynolds." the white rose bobbed to the beat of the low music, tapping against a hip every so often.

"Now, back unto the reason why we're here. Honestly? I was lonely and wanted some cuddles with my lovely, lovely Kagome." noticing that it was just the male lounging in the open living space, he was quick to wave a hand. "Don't worry, don't worry! My girl is currently enjoying a much-needed hot bubble bath. One, I wish I was taking part of, but felt this little conversation was, at the time, more prudent. How could I feel that? Simple. I had the desire that everyone read this in Reynolds voice, nothing more and nothing less. Though if we are asking for more, and I know what you all want, I on the other hand, wouldn't mind lathering my girl in rich and real Canadian maple syrup and eating my midnight pancake snacks off of her, but maybe later. So while Kagome is taking this time to prepare for a very adventurous night right here on this vegan friendly-faux-bear fur rug, I'll fill that time with hanging out with you lovely little readers. Because without you, though more so my unannounced arrival and delayed departure, we wouldn't be here right now."

Happy humming could now be heard from behind a closed door just off to the side, the male giving a little jiggle in his spot in excitement. The rose momentarily used to fan himself, though just how useful it was as such, needed to be questioned at a later time.

"Now I'm sure there are a few things you all wish to talk about; my last movie with the fridge trope, which I myself can only say thanks to the writers for that one. Thanks guys, I've always wanted more trauma and torture to sprinkled in my life." a finger was wagged, tongue tisking against his teeth, though the sound was slightly muffled due to his mask.

"Or when my next film will come out, and if so, will it be part of the Marvel Universe. This is where you show your true love and devotion. I ask you, lovely readers, to go out and use the internet, haul out the trolls if need be, and ask, beg, and cry for me to be part of Marvel. Not that I want to, not really, it's just principle. What with their large budgets, CGI teams, writers, directors and a full cast. Honestly, a whole school of mutants gone save for three at a single extended time? For what purpose, 'cause I doubt they all went on some sort of field trip or vacation, but what do I know, I failed out of 5th grade. But, not really." his head tipped to the side, possibly staring in the direction of where the bathroom was, it was hard to tell with his face actually covered to know for sure.

"I mean, who wants to be part of that depressing team? All that self-sacrificing for the greater good?" he gave a few bobs of the rose in his hand as his head tipped back, almost as if in contemplation. "Though let's be honest, we all know I would survive an alien with a California Raisin on steroids for a chin, snapping their fingers. And then I'd introduce said alien to my Desert Eagles Mark XIX while recruiting Ant-Man to tickle where the sun never shines before becoming… Anti-Ant-Man? I honestly don't know what to call him in his Ultraman form, wait, does that make him a magical-boy or a science-boy? Right, Ant-Man shrinking to tickle where sun don't shine for hurting my favorite Web-Head super bro." the rose now tapped where his mouth was, though again, it was hidden by his mask. "And it would be super hot to watch Kagome kick his ass. I wonder what she would wear… Something skin tight? Revealing? Her old school uniform?"

A door opening, even though quiet, drowned out his muttering, the candles flickered as steam billowed out of the bathroom before quickly dissipating the further it billowed into the open space. "Are you talking to White and Yellow again?" a female figure left the dark bathroom, her form covered with a short semi sheer dark pink bathrobe of her own. Her hands were raised just enough to free her hair from beneath the robe, though she paused when she really took a look at the sprawled out male. "...I thought that was supposed to be a gift for me?"

Snickering, he trailed the rose down from his mouth, his neck, down his chest stopping just above his stomach. "Don't you think I look sexy in this?" it was always so amusing to tease and rile her when he wore risqué outfits, namely hers.

Finishing in freeing her hair, she eyed his form. Yes, his skin was pocked and disfigured from him constantly getting open sores and his abilities nearly immediately healing them. But beyond that, his form was all carved muscle, no doubt from years of being a mercenary. While yes, he was larger with the shoulders strong, he had a slight swimmer's build. It didn't lack-

"Ah, sorry for the intermission. Our writer took a few days to… deal with life I guess. How boring." shoulders shrugged, waving off the confused expression from his fairer companion. "Of course, it would happen when describing my awesome and amazingly sexy self." an actual pout could be seen through his mask.

"I will admit, you are sexy." the purring drawl from Kagome drew his attention again, her words and tone revealing she either decided she was going to ignore him going off tangent or just that she was used to it at this point, body freezing when her hands began with removing the sash that kept her own coverings secure. "I'm just not sure that shade of pink is quite your color. Maybe you should stick to your usual colors?"

The moment, the robe dropped and pooled around her feet, revealed a feminine figure dripping in curves with subtle musculature that showed she kept up with her own training, he froze. She wore a set of red and black satin and lace that covered pale skin. It covered a little more than what most would normally deem sexy lingerie, with slightly wider straps, but they accentuated her curves, drawing attention to them. And the thin ribbons that accompanied and mimicked, as well as help the lace that helped cover stiffening peeks, made her look more like a present just waiting to be unwrapped.

"Well, what do you think of my gift to you?" legs crossed slightly as hands once again rose to lift her hair to both reveal her neck and shoulders as well as lift her chest, she stood posed before him, basking in the golden glow of the fireplace behind him.

The white rose that had been resting near his hip instantly perked up, a white petal flying off at the somewhat harsh and sudden movement. Despite it being a mask, the white 'eyes' widened as the mask shifted to show that his jaw dropped.

"I'll take your silence as a, 'I likey'?" she giggled as she dropped her hands, they followed the curves of her body, no doubt drawing his gaze from behind the mask to follow with. Slowly, with a slight predator grace, she lowered to her knees and began to crawl up his form, leaving a trail of kisses behind her that glittered from both the fire light as well as her own abilities to help heal him.

Tossing the rose without a care, he reached forward to trace her curves for himself, not stopping as her own hands reached forward to lift and remove his mask. Lips curved up when she reached forward to kiss him. It was sweet, a simple press of her lips against his own. His smile grew when he quickly ended the sweetness by reaching for that delightful curve of her ass that shook playfully in his grasp.

The gasp that was let out was easily and eagerly swallowed, tongue dipping between lush lips to tangle with her own. With where his grip was, he pulled her closer to settle in his lap. Trailing lips away from her own to nip down her jaw and neck, he smirked against her warm skin.

Pausing, brown eyes narrowed as he turned away from the purring woman in his lap. "Oi, what are you still doing here? This ain't no peep-show! Go away. Read a book, play a game, watch a movie. I hear that new one about a guy named Guy wanting to be free or something, is worth the watch. And if my pal Ryan is in it, ya know it's good. Now," a hand reluctantly left the span of leg it had been caressing with a waving motion. "Shoo."

Turning away, leaving behind the couple and the sounds of giggles and kissing echoed loudly over the crackles and pops from the fireplace. A quick squeal that turned into laughter that was followed by a masculine whine at the sound of fabric tearing just set the pace of what was to come. And who was in charge of this nights shenanigans. A door closing muffled the sounds as the cool evening draped across the forest, leaving only the crickets in the distance and even further off cries of wolves the only sounds to echo.

Message delivered, though the exacts of what the message actually was seemed to have been lost. But it had been shared, and that seemed to be all that had been important. It did leave questions of what the future held, and if there would be any further important messages that would need to be shared. Who knows. Guess the game of 'wait and see' was going to have to be played.

AN: Don't ask. Please don't. I will say this, I was at work when I literally/figuratively heard Deadpool/Ryan Reynold's voice pop out from no where and bug me until I started writing this down. And when I lost the flow for a few days, it came back until I managed to finish it. So now I'm posting it here and cleaning my hands of it. I hope you can find some enjoyment in, I know I'm going to enjoy the peace and quiet.

As always; read, enjoy, and please review! - BunnyWK

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

The Truths Found On Petram Viridios IV (5/5)

A/N: The last chapter to this fic. It's a long one and I gotta say that I've had a lot of fun with this one. After I post this chapter, I'll be sure to post the masterpost for this fic. And of course it'll be available on ao3 soon enough.

Read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

__________

Chapter 5: Adore You

If you had to draw a map to find the way home once you were captivated by the gaze of those trustworthy, soft eyes of his, you would surely run out of ink; pools of blue, unwavering in their affection, drew you in, and you were willing to drown in them. There were facets about them that fascinated you as much as the scales of a butterfly did; they did not shimmer, but they gleamed and sparkled; it's what made you pause and search for a wisp of an acquaintance that very first time you saw him; finding a familiarity that threatened to sweep you away. Why you even found fire in those eyes; it was there in his moments of determination and passion. Oh, how their color shifted with his moods was a type of magic you wanted to spend the rest of your life being mesmerized by. To be sure he wasn't mistaken, he dare not blink; exhibiting the full spectrum of what Billie Eilish described as ocean eyes; he had to be sure. "Y-you do?"

"Yes," you giggled. "I do."

It wouldn't occur to you till later, that he had given you a choice. For instead of the typical proposal question, where it was more asserted, Rick asked in a manner in which there was equal footing; it spoke volumes of the respect he had for you. With shaky hands, he slipped a ring whose stone was as clear and blue as his eyes and cut perfectly like a rose, the band covered in gold vines and silver leaves which weaved together; he made it himself, and if you thought back far enough, you could remember when he was ambiguous about his plans to create a new type of stone. Honestly, you didn't realize it would be for this.

"Gosh," he sniffled. "I-I promised myself that I w-wouldn't cry."

But cry he would; fat, sloppy tears that blinded one's vision. He wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater, and fought to regain composure, but lost to the new wave which followed. You gently pried his hands away from his face, softening at his tear-stained cheeks. "It's okay, you can cry if you want to. I already know how tender you are."

Goodness, how long had he wanted to do this? For while it had almost been two years in which he had last attempted to, it might've been on his mind for much longer than that; eating away at his clarity; at the self-confidence that was torn down and repaired daily. You were grateful and proud that this man wanted you; that he finally gathered the courage to ask and do as he intended and wanted. You….you had wanted this to happen, but did he know that? Your ocean of inquisitions thought otherwise.

However, it was time to quiet and quell his despondent thoughts. Your fingers dug into the collar of his sweater; the tang of nervous sweat and something so him which wafted off him made you yearn to bring him closer. The puffiness about his eyes didn't discourage you from pressing a kiss at the corner of them and from his throat came a choked sob and you were surrounded by the sounds of his disbelief; this cacophony was breaking your heart. There had to be something you could do to ease him. "Ricardo," you started, "considering the suddenness of the occasion, should we, in like fashion…my dear honey man, would you like to get married today?"

This new tidbit caught him off guard; so much so that he stopped crying; good. Now, he was the one who was unsure of whether this was real life or a simulation. He ran his fingers through his hair, double-checked his equipment, sprayed himself with water, and completed equations that had taken this earth dimension's leading mathematicians decades to understand. What you thought was odd was when he caught a pigeon, scanned its anatomy, and found it was sound; you were going to have to ask him about it later. "Rick, did you hear me?"

"Y-yes," he focused, "but what d-do you mean today? How?"

You figured he would have easily come to a conclusion, but then again, what do spacemen have to do with the price of bread?

"I mean that we don't have to wait if you don't want to." You slid your palm over his tattoo, memorizing with your fingertips where his skin was slightly raised. "We can just go down to the justice of the peace if you'd like."

"And y-you would be my wife today?"

"Yes," you giggled. "I think that's how it works."

"But what about a-a…"

"A wedding ceremony?" you interrupted. "Well, we can have one later. We can plan it however you want, and invite all our friends. There can be so much celebration that we'll be knocked out for a week. Until then, I just want to make you happy, and I believe the sooner the better. Okay? So, if we're going to do this, just tell me now and I'll go get the proper paperwork."

It never ceased to amaze you how easily he flitted through emotions as though it were the weather, and with vigor, he lifted you up and vibrated with joy. "Boy, golly gee…this really - this really razzes my b-berries! This is…wow, I-I can't believe it."

You couldn't believe his word choice either. "Oh, you better believe it, because now you're stuck with me and I have you all to myself. However, you're going to have to put me down now because the office closes at five. There are a few things I need to do before then."

Letting you down, he happily waved goodbye despite the fact that it wouldn't take long to get what you needed for this impromptu occasion. Though, when you entered your house, you took a moment to think about your father. There were things you still didn't understand, like why he never told you about his friendship with Rick, or why you two never really discussed what he'd do if you got married; if he had been here, maybe you two would have talked about which flowers would look best as centerpieces; like whether roses or mums were cheerful enough or if this really was a good idea; if such an age gap was surmountable. Yet, in a way you felt as though you were honoring him; for your father and your mother had been unconventional and had gotten married without all the showy displays then road tripped a bit before settling here; you were simply following tradition.

Maybe, you didn't have to know about the why's and what-ifs, but focusing on what you could do seemed a whole lot easier to do. You kicked off your sneakers and dashed upstairs. You knew where your important documents were, but you thought that choosing a cute outfit would take a little longer. You wanted a certain vibe, one that would make things easier on him and then it came to you; why not revisit an old favorite; one that reminded you of his eyes; always, forever blue.

When you returned, you found him pacing around. He was deep in thought, and it took a moment for him to notice that you had returned. Almost comically, his eyes widened as he took in your appearance, and he started to cry again. "That's th-the dress. From that one time."

"It sure is."

With a twirl, you flaunted the blue chiffon dress, and felt like a dream; his visible adoration was not lost on you. It was a relief that this time you hadn't taken an hour to fuss or worry that you weren't dressed for the part, and you weren't wearing shoes which would kill your feet, but instead rocked some converse. "These shoes are made for walking and that's just what I'll do."

Unlike you, Zeta-7 wanted to fuss and choose something dressier, but you somehow managed to convince him that his blue button-up would be fine, and no tie was necessary; hidden ray guns were allowed just in case this happened to be the day that the Gromflomites attacked; not even Earth-based military scanners would be able to detect them. Though, you did allow him to fix up his hair, because one, you thought he was quite handsome with it combed back, and two, it's what he felt he needed to do to look the part. "How do I-I look?"

"Like the man I'm going to marry. Are you ready handsome?"

With a nod, he grabbed the folder with all the documents he needed. "Y-you bet."

______________

At the courthouse, the entire security staff grouped together and teased you about your keys; you should've known that you'd face trouble once you went through the metal detector; you had a lot of keychains; they were from the days when you and your father would go shopping together. Like Rick, he liked yard sales and thrift stores; sometimes he'd get grab bags and there would be vintage keychains, and he'd give them to you knowing you'd like them. You were told by one of the older guards that it wasn't natural for a grown woman to have a set of keys that weighed five pounds. Zeta-7 began to worry, but you told him you could handle it, and you figured the guards were bored and had nothing else to do. What you didn't tell them was that the main reason your keys were heavy was that you were carrying two sets; yours and your father's old keys; Rick knew, but he respected your wishes to leave it be.

Despite this, you two made your way to the right office; it only took fifteen minutes of going to lobby after lobby, free coffee, and endless rugs in all this indoor nothingness. And nobody knew better than Rick when it came to how much you hated paperwork, but nonetheless, you went through the painstaking process of signing this and that, wondering why they didn't make it easier for people by asking yes or no questions; this better not become someone's confetti. Rick breezed through it all, and you were slightly jealous that he knew what he was doing, but it was due to the fact that citadel paperwork was a lot more frustrating and difficult; he had to go through stacks of it weekly; poor man. While he sat quietly, you were in-between forms that had to be signed in triplicate and heard the gossip coming from the people who were working in the back of the office. What they didn't know was that their ignorance made you more determined; you'd fought your own expectations, that of others, as well as what seemed right to do long enough and no one, not even death itself was going to stop you from doing this; it was the best thing you could ever do for yourself and for him as well. You breathed a sigh of relief when you and Rick finally signed the marriage certificate; finally, it was done, and he watched rapturously as you set down the pen so that he could kiss you without refrain.

If you hadn't known better, you'd say the world shied away; dissolving into a plane of nothingness as he enveloped you with a strength that was deceptive for a man of his years; he had become a little more confident; it might've taken a few years, but all you knew was that it suited him. Being nurtured and cared for, as well as loved in the right sort of environment did wonders on Zeta-7; so much so, that he could hold the world in the palm of his hand and still manage not to damage it. It wasn't shocking that some found this outward display sweet, and you almost had hope for humankind, but then there was a laugh or two from the back; you made a mental note to consider moving off Earth. No one was going to ruin this moment for him, and relishing the moment, you chased his mouth for a second kiss; you know, to prove your point.

And if you hadn't already been proud of him, what made you even prouder was what he said on the way out. "Please stop laughing at m-my wife. Th-that's very rude."

His wife? Yes, you were his wife now. It's strange how you could wake up and wonder what you should have for breakfast and be here where you were now; in a whole new chapter of your life; wondering what will come next. Confusing yes, but not something to be afraid of; you welcomed this happy transition.

Back at the car, you were still recovering from his earlier outburst; the like which was almost out of character. "Did you see the look on her face? I thought it was going to fall off with how far her jaw dropped. Wasn't it a sight?"

Though, he was busy staring at the ring on his own hand which you had picked out when you two made a stop at a consignment shop earlier. It wasn't that complex like yours, but he loved it. "All I could see was - was you."

"You flirt."

You gave his shoulder a playful shove, and in turn, he laughed a full-on belly laugh; this happy noise was music to your ears. "Gosh, I-I mean it. Y-you, look so pretty today." A bit shyly, he commented. "Blue looks very good on you."

"Thank you. So, how should we celebrate? A trip to the moon perhaps? Going across the universe? Maybe a kaiju fight with Matango? Or watching Spiderman 2? Honestly, I'm game for anything."

You had decent shoes on and didn't care what he wanted to do because you were happy if he was happy. And as though it were just another afternoon, he glowed with happiness when he asked. "Mrs. Sanchez, do you - do you want to go get some ice cream?"

Some things will never change and you didn't mind that. "I'd love to. As the author, L.M. Montgomery once said, 'I guess ice cream is one of those things that are beyond imagination.' And, you know, it's so true. I intend to go all out with the toppings today. It's certainly that kind of occasion."

______

He couldn't seem to want to let go of your hand; as though the world would fall away if he didn't and that this would turn out to be a cruel dream. Still, you humored and spoiled him. As intended, you got all the toppings; Rick thought it was a kids dream come true with the amount of candy you had in your waffle bowl. And since you had enough to share, you took the liberty to feed him. He chatted on; offering charming stories from his band days; unlike other Ricks who were in a rock band called Flesh Curtains, his band had been a jazz and bossa nova trio; the band name had been comprised of a numerical equation; if you had named them you would've called them the Zeta Bytes.

Now, Rick wasn't a messy eater, but during one of his more excitable stories, he spilled a bit on the corner of his mouth. Ready with a napkin, you wiped it away, and couldn't help but laugh at how boyish it was. Giving your hand a squeeze, he absentmindedly brushed his thumb on the back of your hand; adoration coloring his voice. “You're t-t-too good to me.”

"There's no such thing. If anything, I gotta spoil you rotten."

You found no hindrance in his mood and this time he didn't think twice about kissing you then and there as he liked while you were still holding the napkin; fear and shame of public displays of affection being one less thing to worry about now. Who cared if your ice cream was melting, because your heart was melting; his mouth tasted of chocolate and promises. A soft chuckle escaped him as he pulled away; his promise whispered against your lips. "I-I promise I'll be good t-t-to you."

Being loved suited him; it really, really did wonders on his countenance and it made you wonder what else he could now do.

_________

By now you were a little tired, but Ricks contagious energy invigorated your spirits; you bet he could've come up with an invention and completed it today if he stayed this hyped up. Instead, he used that energy to make fresh rolls to go with the leftover acorn squash soup; you hadn't been that hungry, but you enjoyed it nonetheless. And when dinner had been eaten, you helped him with the dishes; nothing you hadn't done before, but his spirit was lighter and more at ease; he even bumped your hip with his as a gesture of playfulness. After cleaning up the kitchen, he decided that he'd like to take a shower and refresh himself and in the meantime, you stepped out into the backyard to enjoy the beauty of the night. In this part of town, despite the light pollution, you could see a fair amount of stars.

You had never studied astronomy, but Rick had shown you in diagrams and in textbooks of their names and explained how they were formed; to him, their complexity was like poetry, and it made them beautiful. You couldn't recite it by memory, but you had a feeling that beyond your current comprehension perhaps there was life amongst those heavenly bodies, despite the heat or deadly gases; if you had learned anything about space, it was that worlds were more along the lines of art and beauty than fields of science which were easily explained. Yet, in the air, where there was a sweet perfume, thick, but intoxicating, only where you were currently mattered; you saw that in the leftmost part of the yard there was jasmine which was currently in bloom; its blanket of flowers reminding you of snow. Hadn't you read of this somewhere before? Maybe.

In the grass near your feet, grasshoppers leaped away, and crickets chirped their songs. And you relished the strong breezes and the song of the night which may consume a melancholic heart if it were searching for tragedies instead of sweet dreams. And it had only been a few hours ago when you had thought that all of which transpired might've been a dream. Though, whatever truths that had come to light in the hours after the simulation, you were glad of them.

In the dark, sights and sounds were heightened and mesmerizing, albeit curious in its own right; if it hadn't been for the sound barrier Rick had on his property, you would've heard the obnoxious sound of the next-door neighbor's TV as they watched infomercials. Still, it was a beautiful night. Sitting on the bench which overlooked the whole yard, you thought of what wonderful things you'd like to share with Rick, and then he found you. For his part, he had changed into something more relaxed; into a light blue button-down that was similar to the one he was wearing earlier, but this one was softer, and it was paired with navy pants; it reminded you of blue pants Rick with his attire, but it was cute and suited him. With him, he had brought over a tray of goodies and you two ate cookies and cakes and drank earl grey under the moonlit night.

The pause in conversation gave allowances for observations. For example, you took a good long look at him as he sipped his tea; admiring how casual he appeared tonight. Without his labcoat or sweater, his identity seemed separate from that of his dimension jumping, scientist self; making way for the person deep inside; the friendly neighbor who won your heart without even trying. He noticed eventually that you had been staring at him, and he broke the silence with his inquiry. "What are y-you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking about you cutie. You um….you look really good in those blue pants of yours. Thinking of taking up modeling anytime soon?"

"N-no," he answered with an air of obliviousness that you found endearing. "not unless my next work assignment requires it. Gee, why do you ask?"

"Hmm, it's because you wear your clothes well. I always thought you did, but I don't believe I ever mentioned it."

He ruminated on what you said for a few minutes, before setting down his cup. "Did you - did you always find me attractive?"

"No," you confessed. "but you're the only person I've ever really been attracted to. I…..I always liked the fact that our relationship was built on something more substantial. You see, the more I got to know you, the more irresistible I found you. Though," you winked. "those teeth of yours were always too cute to resist."

This truth of yours made him comfortable enough to relinquish one of his own. "C-can I tell you a secret?"

"It's not much of a secret if you tell me dear, but you can tell me anyway."

Wringing his hands together, he confessed solemnly. "That day y-you tripped on the sidewalk nearby my house, I-I almost decided not to cross the road."

Not cross the road? Hmm, it had been an option. In your mind's eye, you could imagine it; the tall, lanky figure of a man debating against his better judgment on what he ought to do; so close but so far; knowing that he was altering the course of his future and putting yours at risk. Poor man, having to wallow over a moral dilemma like that. "Why is that?"

"Gosh, y-you….I didn't want to take advantage of the situation."

It could've been taken that way, but you never thought so. "So what changed your mind?"

"I thought you were going to cry, and I-I didn't… I didn't want you to suffer anymore. I thought t-to myself, that if I got t-t-to know you, then you wouldn't have to be lonely anymore."

When he said this, you nearly couldn't look at him; not because he knew more than he let on, but because who knows what paths you two would've taken if he hadn't shown up that day. Tears bit at the back of your eyes, and your nails bit into your palms. "Dear, love isn't always a cure for heartache," He tensed up at this, but you knew you had to tell him. You weren't upset because you had guessed as much, but being assured of it cemented the fact. "but I'm sure that without you, without your friendship, I might not be here right now. I think I was depressed, and from time to time I still feel that way. I…I have thought of ways to make my troubles end, ways you might not have been proud of, but you've shown me a better way to live. I think…no, I know that by expanding my horizons, I understand now that there's so much to look forward to, and not to take life for granted. Why," you paused, fighting the tears which threatened to fall. "you reminded me that I gotta make the most of this crazy, unpredictable life, and I'm happy that I'll get to do that with you."

He understood and accepted this answer and gave you a look of adoration and pride; the like that you hoped you'd always remember. And when you two were done with tea, you both took a walk about the garden. The sweet perfume of jasmine intermingled with that of the scent of his soap, and combined with the candor of his speech made this place feel like a well of comfort. He followed behind you as you two spoke, and you were conscious of the fact that with his freshly washed hair brushed back, it made him more appealing. His hands were in want of yours as he matched your pace, and you felt slightly mischievous as you'd skip or teased him to catch you; it wasn't long until he gathered you in his arms and laughed, and you asked without much seriousness for him to let you go, but while he loosened his grip, he didn't let go entirely. "Gosh, y-you make me feel so young. It - it feels so good to have you in my arms."

"Oh, really?" you giggled. "That's great to hear."

Pressing a kiss to your temple, he sighed. "It's unfortunate that I'm so old."

"That's okay. I like you as you are. It goes well with your personality."

"Thank you mi corazón. It feels good to hear that. However, can I-I ask you something?"

"Mhm."

"¿Si hubiera s-sido más joven, habría marcado la diferencia?"

"If you had been younger? I don't know. Possibly," you admitted. "I might've been less reluctant about my feelings at the beginning, but I truly don't know. I'd like to think that I'd still would've fallen for you anyway. You're a wonderful man Ricardo, you don't have to doubt that, anyone can see that. It doesn't matter how old you are, but it's who you are."

"Y-you're right." With reluctance, he allowed his arms to drop to his sides, and he wondered. "It um - it's getting late. Should I-I walk you home?"

Was he forgetting that he didn't have to? Maybe not. Perhaps he needed a sign; one that said that any suggestion of further intimacy was alright. "I thought I was home." you answered, "Don't you want me to stay?"

Scratching the back of his neck, he nodded. "Yes, I-I-I-I do."

"Then it's settled. We'll have a big sleepover," you brightened. "and it'll never have to end. I'll borrow a pair of your pj's and hog all the blankets because I'll get cold."

"And in - in the morning," he added warmly, "w-we can have pancakes."

"Yeah, and watch enough interdimensional cable to make us go blind."

"But I-I might have to work tomorrow."

"Oh. Well, then I guess I'll just have to eat all your snacks until you come back. We might have to take a trip to Costco at some point because they sell these mushroom crisps that are to die for."

Standing under the persimmon tree, he stepped forward and gave your shoulder a squeeze. "Y-you can have whatever you want," With a strong arm slipping around your waist, you felt almost shy at the way he smiled protectingly down at you. His warm breath ghosted about your ear, and his voice was above a whisper as he confessed. “because I-I-I finally got you princess and I'm not - I'm not going t-to let you go.”

At the sound of this pet name, you felt a slight warmth rush to your cheeks, but you didn't laugh it off as you had once but agreed with warmth. “You may do as you please, Mr. Sanchez.”

And so he did. Without hesitation, he lifted your chin and brushed your lips with his thumb. His eyes sparkling with humor, promise, and a confidence that was somehow so very appropriate on his face. "I love you. I-I-I always have. From the time I first held your hand, I knew it had to be you. I would've been a fool if I - if I hadn't tried. Even now, it's hard to believe, but it's starting to sink in."

"Me too. It's unbelievable, but it's true and we have the paperwork to prove it."

Leaning down, he pressed a sweet kiss onto your lips. It was so gentle, it was as though you might break if he tried otherwise. Kissing you again, he sighed against your lips. "It's beautiful out t-tonight."

"It is."

Pressing a hand to his cheek, you softened. "But I think I'm ready to call it a night. Why don't we go in?"

Weaving his fingers with yours, he softened. "Okay."

You used to think to yourself and wonder if his house would ever be ready to receive you, but what you now realized was that it had always been ready, and only you had been waiting for it all to catch up; for him to know what he wanted and to be courageous and say; for you to know what you needed, and to accept that being yourself didn't make you any less attractive or unique and that you weren't alone; you had never been alone, for he had always been waiting. His home, why it was always home, but it was always home because he was what grounded you and you were what grounded him. And you felt so married to him then, and everything felt as it should. Nothing had really changed, except for a title, and a promise; for you two were friends as you had always been; him the happy go lucky old man, and you the silly neighbor who met him by accident, but you couldn't deny that you loved him with your entire being and so did he. As promised, he intended to do everything in his power to protect you, even as you two were getting ready for bed. His body seemed to curl around you as to shield you from whatever monsters could be hiding in the dark.

So, when it happened that you rested your head upon his chest and felt the temptation of sleep washing over you, you pressed a light kiss to his cheek and confessed softly. "I can't wait to wake up next to you."

Fin

[7fics]

i've been thinking about this prompt for dAYS lol. jjparents when yugyeom(5) watching his youngjae(8) hyung doing everything alone, from bath, choose his own outfit for school and sleep in his own room, and he decide he's big enough to do everything by himself too but when jinyoung feels his little baby has grown up, yugyeom still the maknae that they knew when thunders and nightmare take a visit:) thank you for taking this prompt:)

warnings: none? i don’t think? just copious amounts of cute i suppose!! and 1 kiss between jjp for 1 second!! 

author: joey

word count: 6.5k

a/n: first of all i’m so sorry…sdfdg…rly tooth rottingly cute tho…mostly a lot of jinyoung babying yugyeom and jaebum giving him a hard time about it…also my nephew is only 3 and i haven’t interacted w a 5 year old in a million years so i don’t rly know what they’re like i did my best!!!!!

Truth be told, having a five year old and an eight year old could be equated to having two highly active, untrained, untamable marmosets.

He never intended to not have children, but the days of being an uncle to his sister’s young children seemed to have left a much different impression on him than he had once thought. His sister’s children had always been well behaved and polite, calm and serious when they needed to be but a little wild when they were allowed. The quieter one between the two of them, it had been the ideal for Jinyoung: marry his high school sweetheart Im Jaebum, get a pretty house in the suburbs, and adopt two boys who would be little carbon copies of themselves. It was the perfect plan and even Jaebum had seemed to agree, despite wanting more kids than that, but he had conceded that two would suit him fine. It would be everything that they had ever dreamed and more.

Funny how life works, isn’t it?

“Appaaaaaaaaa,” Yugyeom whines, dragging out the last syllable in his high pitched voice until it’s practically unbearable. Jinyoung feels two tiny hands pushing at his thigh impatiently: it’s 7 o’clock in the morning and despite being dressed for work already, he barely feels awake. He’s standing in Youngjae’s bedroom doorway, waiting for the older of their two sons to get out of bed and lamenting the fact that he’s not in the kitchen watching his husband make breakfast. Presumably shirtless.  

Yugyeom reaches for his bicep, hands up and his arms stretched while he balances precariously on his sock-footed tippy toes. Jinyoung, despite telling him many times that it isn’t going to work, folds his arm into a 90 degree angle anyway and grits his teeth. Yugyeom insists that he’s tall enough to grab onto Appa’s arm and swing from it like a baby monkey, but Jinyoung knows he’s probably still a couple of years out from being able to do it. When he can’t quite reach, fingertips brushing against the material of Jinyoung’s power blue dress shirt, he whines and drops his arms to lean his face against his leg. Jinyoung reaches to ruffle his hair, glancing down and seeing the adorable way Yugyeom’s cheek is smushed against his thigh in defeat.

“Youngjae-yah,” Jinyoung warns, leaning his folded arm down far enough that Yugyeom can latch onto it with both hands. He grunts a little as he lifts him up, ignoring the way his shoulder begs him not to do this as Yugyeom giggles and hangs off his arm. Youngjae, however, seems unperturbed: he remains curled up under his blanket, messy black hair spread across his pillow and eyes squeezed shut against the light.

“Youngjae-yah!” Yugyeom mocks, sing song, planting his feet against Jinyoung’s hip and half standing, half hanging from Jinyoung’s arm. He mumbles a half hearted apology when Jinyoung shoots him a warning look and tries again, “Youngjae hyung!”

One dark eye opens barely a centimeter before it closes quickly, pretending that Jinyoung hadn’t seen it and that he’s still asleep.

He knows he’s not supposed to laugh, so he bites both his lips to hold it back. Them being late to school isn’t funny, per se, but watching his eight year old act like they hadn’t just made eye contact when he’s trying to get him up and dressed is.

“Youngjae-yah, if you don’t get up right now, I’m going to go get Dad.”

Both eyes open this time, blinking sleepily. His heart melts alarmingly fast: the only body part visible is his head, the rest of him covered up by a mound of blankets so that he looks like a little cotton turtle. Youngjae’s staticy black hair fans across the pillowcase decorated with various Pokemon and he wishes more than anything that they could just all stay home and pile up in their bed like they used to.

“Giving him heart eyes like that isn’t going to get him out of bed any faster,” a voice says behind him, and he feels Jaebum disentangling Yugyeom from his arm and hip to throw him over his shoulder. Yugyeom giggles and kicks his socked feet so that both Jaebum and Jinyoung have to lean their faces out of their trajectory.

With a sharp look, Jinyoung glances over his shoulder at Jaebum; despite the teasing smile on his face, Jinyoung is never not awed by his handsomeness and even this makes him soften, too. “I am not giving him heart eyes. You couldn’t even see my face, because you’re behind me.”

Jaebum wraps an arm around his waist and rests his chin on Jinyoung’s shoulder. Yugyeom seems to notice that his parents are being lovey-dovey and screeches eeeeew in an almost perfect imitation of his cousin Bambam.

“I’ve known you since our freshman year of high school. Do I have to be standing in front of you to know that you’re soft-hearted and don’t want to get him out of bed?”

Red faced and embarrassed like they’re still just teenagers, Jinyoung shoves his elbow backward into Jaebum’s bare stomach and grumbles under his breath when his husband just laughs. He half turns, holding his arms out and silently waiting for Jaebum to deposit their five year old wiggle worm into them. He’s still in his jammies and even though it is pretty cute that there’s a picture of Pikachu on each tiny butt cheek, it’s time to get dressed for school. He sighs: he didn’t think having kids, especially two hyperactive ones, would make him such a sap.

He’s not surprised, though, and he’s sure Jaebum isn’t, either.

Regardless, Jaebum smiles at him and dumps Yugyeom across Jinyoung’s outstretched arms. He immediately lets go of his back, almost dropping him until he’s got a good grip on both of his ankles and is holding him upside down. Yugyeom just screams laughter and if that’s not enough to get sleepy-eyed Youngjae out of bed, then he isn’t sure what is.

Jinyoung starts to walk Yugyeom down the hallway on his hands while Jinyoung holds him up by his feet, waiting in the doorway to his room while Jaebum quietly reprimands Youngjae for not getting up when Jinyoung had asked him to. He smiles softly when Youngjae throws off the blanket, sitting up and rubbing his eyes while waving Jaebum off like a tired parent. Jaebum slowly closes the door when he’s sure that Youngjae is up and at ‘em before joining Jinyoung in Yugyeom’s room.

“Breakfast is ready,” he says, folding his arms and leaning in the doorway while Jinyoung rifles through Yugyeom’s closet to find something to wear. The little boy leans on his leg impatiently and whines unintelligibly about God only knows.

“Thanks, honey,” Jinyoung says, finally finding a shirt and yanking it off the hanger. He orders Yugyeom to spin around with a circling motion of his finger while he looks over at his husband still watching them fondly from the doorway. “Yah, stop looking at us like that if you want to get everyone out of the house on time.”

He laughs, holding up his hands defensively before winking at him and leaving the room. Jinyoung rolls his eyes even if he doesn’t see it, helping Yugyeom to take off his pajama shirt and pull on the clean one Jinyoung had picked for him. Down the hall he hears Youngjae’s door open, and both him and Yugyeom glance up to see him heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

When Yugyeom’s head swivels back around, he looks much more glum than he had just a few minutes ago. Jinyoung waits until he buttons his pants and pulls on clean socks before scooping him up again; he wonders if he should ask what’s wrong or if it’s just another morning that he’s sad to leave Jinyoung and Jaebum behind. With a sigh too heavy for his little body, Yugyeom wraps his arms around Jinyoung’s neck and leans their heads together, now uncharacteristically silent as they wander into the kitchen for a quick, pre-school breakfast.

As Jaebum is getting the plates down, Youngjae comes into the room and yawns sleepily. He shuffles over to where Jinyoung is sitting in one of the higher chairs at the island and leans his head against his side. “Do I have to go to school today?”

Jaebum raises an eyebrow. “Of course you do. Why don’t you want to?”

He replies miserably, “I want to play Pokemon.”

Jinyoung again has to bite his lips to avoid laughing, and he makes eye contact with Jaebum at the sink where he’s doing the same thing. Both of their faces split in a smile and they look down in unison as to not give themselves away.

“You can play Pokemon after school and after you do your homework,” Jaebum says, much better at dropping the smile, and hands Youngjae a plate. “Maybe we’ll even call Uncle Mark and Uncle Jackson to see if Bambam can come over and play with you.”

This seems to cheer him up, and he brightens considerably. He smiles at both of them, a little checkerboard line of white and black where some of his baby teeth have finally gone. Youngjae takes the plate from Jaebum and steps up on the stool to carefully pick and choose between all of the breakfast items Jaebum had prepared to arrange on his plate. While he does, Jaebum reaches over his head to grab another plate and nods at Yugyeom.

Looking over, he can see that Yugyeom is still quiet and watching Youngjae intently. He’s slumped a little in his chair, lower lip pushed out and corners of his mouth turned down in an exaggerated pout like a humanoid grouper fish. He watches Youngjae as he makes his own plate for breakfast and sighs another little heavy sigh.

“Yugyeom-ah,” Jinyoung says softly, and feels a bit dismayed when Yugyeom doesn’t look at him. “If you ask Dad extra nicely, I think he’ll give you an extra strawberry.”

“Daddy, can I have an extra strawberry, please?” he asks, but it’s lacking in that usual Yugyeom fervor (as in, he didn’t scream it at the top of his lungs, so now neither of them are sure that he meant it) and they exchange a worried glance across the kitchen.

“Sure, kiddo,” Jaebum says, and turns around to pile more strawberries than he would usually get onto a small plate. Jinyoung rubs his back comfortingly and starts to worry about him being under the weather.

The rest of breakfast goes by uneventfully: Youngjae tells them about what they’re doing at school today with his mouth full, which earns him another reprimand from Jaebum; he does so with a grin on his face because he thinks it’s funny when Youngjae does it, despite knowing that Jinyoung thinks it’s rude. Youngjae just laughs and turns red to mumble an apology when Jinyoung shoots Jaebum a glare across the table. Which is, of course, just met with a grin and a kiss blown to him that, much to Youngjae’s amusement, gets pretend karate chopped out of the air. Normally Yugyeom would laugh, too, but he’s barely even picked at his strawberries. Jinyoung frowns.

“Ah, Jinyoungie, the kids’ bus comes soon,” Jaebum says suddenly, pushing up from the table. “Youngjae-yah, take Yugyeom and get your shoes and jackets on. It’s time to go to the bus stop. Hurry, or you’re going to miss it.”

All three of them turn at the same time to look at the clock perched on the kitchen wall right above the stove. Youngjae’s bus comes in ten minutes and though the bus stop is just at the end of their street, Youngjae has a penchant for pulling out his Gameboy and getting distracted. The next couple of minutes are a flurry of activity getting their boys shooed into the front room while they race to pack their lunches and grab their backpacks. By the time Jinyoung is coming back from both of their rooms with their school bags in hand, Jaebum is already waiting with them by the door to help them strap on and get ready to go. The both of them stand side by side on the doorstep and watch their kids run to the bus stop down at the end of the street, in just enough time that Youngjae is pulling Yugyeom by the hand up onto the steps and to their seats.

Left alone now in the silence, Jinyoung leans in to Jaebum’s shoulder and hums when he wraps an arm around his waist. They go back inside once the bus is out of sight, and Jinyoung sits down heavily at the island again with his face in his hand while Jaebum leans on his elbows across from him.

“What’s the matter?”

“Yugyeom seemed unhappy today.”

Jaebum clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Yeah, I noticed that, too. Was he feeling sick? Did he say anything about feeling sick?” Jaebum’s thick eyebrows furrow worriedly. “Should we have kept him home from school?”

“No, I don’t think he’s sick,” Jinyoung says, sighing. He reaches out for comfort and warms a bit when Jaebum takes his hand to run his thumb back and forth across his knuckles. “I think he’s jealous.”

“Jealous?” Jaebum stands up straighter, letting go of Jinyoung’s hand to come around and stand next to him. “Jealous of what?”

“Of Youngjae. Because Youngjae gets to do ‘big boy’ things, and he doesn’t.”

Jinyoung looks up and his heart contracts at the way Jaebum softens exorbitantly. It’s a wonder, Jinyoung thinks, that he could see such a softness in him when in high school he had been, for a long time, all razor edged angles. Dating had melted him a bit, though, and marriage even more so; during their wedding he thinks that Jaebum must have cried more than his mother did. Jinyoung didn’t think that Jaebum getting any softer was possible until they adopted two kids.

The hand that had been rubbing across his knuckles comes up to cup his chin and tilt it further so that Jaebum can kiss him sweetly before leaning away.

“He likes being babied, especially by you. Maybe he was just tired today, huh?”

Jaebum’s curled fingers bump his chin in encouragement before they wrap themselves up in his silky tie and yank suggestively. Jinyoung checks the clock again and is thankful that he’s the boss so that he can make his own work hours, and he lets himself be pulled to his feet by the promise of a good time lined in his husband’s devilish eyes.

“Don’t stress so much, Jinyoungie,” he purrs, “and let’s go back to bed.”

Despite Jaebum’s alluring words of comfort, he worries about it all day.

The hours stretch on in his office as he tries not to think about how sad his son had seemed that morning, even after waking up happy and getting to climb all over Appa like a jungle gym even though he usually doesn’t get to. He wonders when exactly it happened, and if the change had come even sooner before but him and Jaebum had been so preoccupied that they had missed it, because Jaebum was right: Yugyeom adored being babied. He loved getting scooped up and held in either of their arms, leaning his head against theirs when he was tired, or curling up in their laps as they read books, or nestling between them on their bed when he was supposed to be tucked away in his own. He had his moments of independence but for the most part he still adored being treated like the toddler that he is (even though Mark and Jackson think they’re maybe spoiling him a little too much, but hey, Jinyoung and Jaebum both ended up being too soft for their kids) and it bothers him that, somewhere along the way and fairly recently, it had changed without him noticing.

In any case, he’s exhausted from overthinking it by the time he gets home from work. He comes home and braces for the impact of Yugyeom tearing around the corner and careening into his legs screeching at full volume, but the house remains suspiciously quiet. The television is on in the living room and he’s about to get worried when he finally hears the familiar voice of his nephew ribbing Youngjae over video games. Jaebum must be outside with Mark and Jackson, then, so he goes into the kitchen to start dinner.

Their routine continues as usual, even with the minor disruption of Mark and Jackson coming over and bringing Bambam to play with Youngjae. The boys all stay in the living room until dinner time, when Bambam and Youngjae set the table and make their plates while Jinyoung calls Yugyeom to his side to make his for him. Jinyoung is disheartened to see that Yugyeom’s morose mood from earlier that morning has not dissipated, and it continues all throughout dinner. His uncles make an attempt to engage him, but they get quiet, half hearted answers that have all four of the adults sharing worried glances across the table.

After dinner, Jaebum tells Youngjae and Bambam to wash the dishes while the rest of them go into the backyard to sit on the porch and chat a bit. Yugyeom, normally content to sit in Jinyoung’s lap and doze off while they talk with his uncles, insists on sitting in his own chair and complains loudly when Jinyoung tries to pull him up into his lap.

“No, Appa, I don’t want to,” he says, voice raised in a whine, and he pushes Jinyoung’s outstretched hands away roughly.

Jaebum, who sees all of this, makes a noise against his teeth. “Yah! Yugyeomie, you don’t talk to Appa like that. Say you’re sorry.”

Jinyoung’s heart breaks. Even in the fading navy of dusk he can see that Yugyeom’s cheeks are red and his eyes are wet. His little hands curl into fists and he takes a deep breath before muttering an apology. He doesn’t wait for it to be acknowledged, instead spinning around and marching across the patio to climb up into one of the chairs. There must be a look on his face, because he feels Jaebum’s hand slide onto his thigh and search silently for his hand.

The next thirty minutes go by with Jinyoung watching Yugyeom swing his legs in his chair with a heaviness in his chest and Jaebum periodically squeezing his fingers for comfort. Mark and Jackson decide to call it a night; they need to get Bambam home and into the bath before they all watch a movie together, and the rumbling off in the distance gives them a good idea that a rainstorm is coming. Yugyeom leaps off the chair as soon as they stand, racing over to bury his face in Mark’s legs and murmuring something like take me with you.

If anything, it just makes him feel like a bad father. As Mark, Jackson, and Bambam make their way from of the house with Jaebum walking them out, he can’t help but wonder: did he baby Yugyeom too much? Did he actually hate it? It seems a little absurd to assume that a five year old would be smart enough to realize that it makes Jinyoung happy getting to baby him a little bit and therefore just pretending to like it to make him feel better, but nothing is impossible. He watches as Youngjae goes down the hallway to the bathroom of his own accord to start the bath while Jinyoung just sits heavily on the couch with his eyes closed and wonders where he went wrong.

A few minutes later there’s a warm hand on his cheek, and he opens his eyes to see Jaebum leaning over him with a pouty Yugyeom leaning against his leg. “Youngjae’s done with his bath. Do you want me to take Yugyeom, or do you want to do it?”

He blinks rapidly, aware that he had maybe dozed off a little bit, and stands up. “I’ll do it. Go tell Youngjae he has thirty minutes to read or play Pokemon before it’s bedtime.”

With a nod, Jaebum leaves Yugyeom standing in front of Jinyoung with his eyes on the floor. Jinyoung stares at the shock of messy brown hair on the crown of Yugyeom’s head and sighs. “C’mon, kiddo. Bath time.”

A sigh, one that matches his unfairly, follows as Jinyoung leads him to the bathroom.

Following their usual routine, Jinyoung sits next to the tub with his back against the bathroom wall and reads to him from Yugyeom’s favorite book. Yugyeom doesn’t goof around like he normally does; the humid atmosphere of the bathroom is unusually quiet and somber as Yugyeom sits glumly in the warm water and splashes at it listlessly. By the time Jinyoung is instructing him to rinse the soap from his hair and pull the drain plug, he’s so frustrated he’s going to explode.

Yugyeom steps into his Superman undies and just waits as Jinyoung drapes the hooded towel shaped like a bear over his head. Jinyoung crosses his legs and starts to dry his son’s hair as he says,

“Yugyeom-ah. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Appa.”

He stops his hands but keeps them placed protectively on Yugyeom’s head. He turns his face up where it had been tilted toward the ground and looks into his eyes seriously. “Don’t lie to me, Yugyeom-ah. You know it’s bad to lie, right? Especially to Appa and Dad.”

Yugyeom nods and looks like he’s ready to cry. He opens his mouth like he’s going to deny it again, but then his little nose scrunches up and he wails, “It’s just…It’s just not fair!”

Jinyoung is taken aback by the sudden outburst. “What’s not fair?”

“Youngjae hyung gets to do everything by himself and I don’t get to do anything! He gets to pick his school clothes, and make his own plate at breakfast, and, and, take baths by himself, and––” he sniffles, tears starting to flow the more he talks. “I’m not a baby anymore, Appa, I want to do stuff like Youngjae hyung!”

Jinyoung feels stunned. Yugyeom sniffles again and wipes his arm across his eyes while Jinyoung just lets his arms fall into his lap. So he had been right then, in thinking that Yugyeom was getting jealous. It breaks his heart a little more to know that his baby doesn’t seem to want to be his baby any more.

Quietly, Jinyoung keeps his hands folded in his lap and asks,

“Do you want to be able to do stuff alone like Youngjae hyung?”

Another sniffle, bottom lip pushed out. He nods.

“Do you want Dad and Appa to let you do things on your own tomorrow?”

Repeat. Sniffle, pout; a brief hesitation, then a nod.

He sighs. “Okay. Tomorrow, we’ll let you do it on your own.”

The next morning starts off with their new routine: Jinyoung gets dressed while Jaebum sits on the edge of the bed and watches him, finally deciding that he’d had his fill of a morning ogling and goes to start breakfast. Where his morning was normally occupied by Yugyeom, he finds it strangely empty and boring when all he has to do is stick his head in both of their doors to turn on their lights to wake them up.

He joins Jaebum in the kitchen, doing his own sort of ogling while Jaebum cooks in just a tank top. There’s the distinct murmur of both boys in the bathroom, the sink running and the low chatter of their voices as he presumes Youngjae fills in his role and shows Yugyeom how to do things he usually doesn’t do by himself. There’s a slight pang in his chest that maybe Yugyeom really does want to grow up, after all.

The feeling is short lived, though, as a couple of minutes later he hears Youngjae’s loud laughter from down the hall. Yugyeom makes an audible noise of fear and then suddenly he’s coming around the corner with his shirt stuck on his head and halfway on a shoulder.

“Appa,” he cries, obviously frustrated that he can’t pull on a shirt (that is much to small for him now, which would explain why he couldn’t get his head through the hole) and he has to shoot Jaebum a glare when he hears the older male stifle a laugh under his breath. “Appa, I can’t get my shirt on.”

“Big boys don’t need help with their shirts,” he says lightly, but he still reaches down to pull the shirt off Yugyeom’s head. “This is one of your baby shirts. Your big boy shirts are on the other side of your closet. Do you need Appa or Dad to come help you?”

“No,” he says glumly, but he hesitates for a moment like he’s going to say yes.

Jinyoung feels a little triumphant. Just a little.

The next incident comes thirty minutes later, when Yugyeom is trying and failing to tie his own shoes.

He looks up, face red and blowing his long bangs out of his eyes with a defeated huff. “Appa, I can’t tie my shoes.”

“Youngjae hyung can tie his shoes,” he says, and feels a little more validated when Yugyeom looks like he just wants to hold his foot out so that he can do it, instead.

But their kid is determined, because he turns away to Youngjae and asks him to show him how to tie his shoes, too.

After they come home from school and wash up for dinner, Yugyeom slides into his seat at the long oak table while the three of them stand in the kitchen and make their plates. They all sit down with their food and suddenly Yugyeom looks jilted.

“Where’s my dinner?”

Jaebum points at the stool pushed up by the countertop and the empty plate by the pan. “Your plate is right there, Yugyeom-ah. You have to get your own dinner.”

When bath time comes, it’s obvious that Yugyeom is getting frustrated now. After multiple mishaps over the course of the day where he’d needed someone’s help anyway, Jinyoung wonders if he’s getting tired of being told big boys do that by themselves or you can do that on your own, can’t you, Yugyeom-ah? It’s such a departure from his own routine that Jinyoung is amazed he’s not disoriented from it all.

But, even though he’s frustrated, he still doesn’t give up. He helps his brother wash the dishes while Jinyoung snuggles up to Jaebum on the couch. They let the boys watch television with them for a while, before Jaebum is toeing at the back of Youngjae’s head and telling him it’s time to take his bath.

After he goes, Yugyeom looks up over a tiny shoulder at Jinyoung where he’d been sitting on the floor next to Youngjae. “Appa.”

“Hmm?”

He feels Yugyeom’s hand pulling on his pant leg, so he lifts it and looks down at him. “Are you going to start my bath for me?”

“Well, normally big boys start their own baths.”

Jaebum nudges him with his shoulder and laughs in his ear. “He’s only five, Jinyoung-ah.”

True, and it’s not like he was going to let Yugyeom potentially lock himself in the bathroom in a tub full of water by himself, anyway, so he nods in the direction of the bathroom when Youngjae announces that he’s finished. Elated, Yugyeom gets up and sprints to the bathroom for the first time in…well, ever.

Jinyoung sighs, disentangling from Jaebum and standing up to stretch. “He seems happier. I think he likes doing stuff on his own.”

Jaebum laughs. “Are you kidding? He might seem happy, but I can tell he misses getting everything done for him. Just watch the look on his face next time you have to tell him that big boys do that by themselves. It’s hilarious.”

Clicking his tongue against his teeth in annoyance, Jinyoung nudges at Jaebum’s knee with his own but Jaebum just laughs more. “You’re terrible.”

“You love me.”

“Yeah, I do,” he says, and softens.

Jaebum smiles at him, all kissable plump cheeks and handsome edges, and pats his butt. “Go keep an eye on big boy Yugyeom so that we can get them both into bed.”

In a normal continuation of their routine, Jinyoung sits next to the tub with his back against the wall while Yugyeom splashes around in the water. Bath time is more manageable when he lets Yugyeom have fun for a while and despite his insistence upon being a big boy now, he doesn’t get too invested in the idea and still makes cute little action noises with his mouth as he drags toys around in the soapy water. Jinyoung just observes quietly, head leaned against the wall as he watches his son get lost in his imagination. Though the few times he had proved that he wasn’t quite ready to grow up yet, even as Jinyoung watches his sweet, cherubic face he knows that the sand in the hourglass of time is slipping by more quickly with every day. He may want to be a big boy now, but he isn’t quite yet; however, Jinyoung realizes with a little pang that, just like Youngjae, he will be soon. And indeed he misses the time when Youngjae needed him, too. What will he do when neither of his children need him at all?

“Appa,” Yugyeom says, and Jinyoung blinks out of his stupor to see that the water in the tub has calmed with the lack of Yugyeom’s pretending. His dark brown hair curls against his face and his cocoa colored eyes are large in his chubby face.

“Hmm?”

“Are you going to read to me?”

Jinyoung smiles. “I didn’t bring your book with me. And besides, big boys don’t read in the tub.”

“Yes huh,” Yugyeom argues, his lower lip pushed forward in a pout. Water rushes away from him as he lifts his arms to cross them across his chest. “You read all the time in the bath, and you make Dad bring you glasses of that red juice that Dad says is yucky.”

He hadn’t been expecting his five year old to make such an accurate and compelling argument, and he can’t help but laugh a little. Yugyeom’s eyebrows furrow indignantly, so he just reaches for the pitcher on the edge of the tub and dumps it over his head to rinse off the soap. Jinyoung stands and waits with his back turned as Yugyeom grabs his own towel, lifts the bear hood up over his head, and steps up on the stool at the sink to brush his teeth. The entire time he can feel the sigh building up in Yugyeom’s chest: normally Appa or Dad participates in this with him, standing next to him or playfully drying his hair but rubbing the bear towel hard and fast on top of his head while he squeals with laughter. But the bathroom is oddly empty of Yugyeom’s glee now that he has to do it the grown up way.

Jinyoung looks down when Yugyeom tugs on his pant leg. His bear towel has been hung back up, and he’s dressed in the pajamas that Jinyoung had brought for him. Now that his teeth are brushed and his jammies are on, it’s time to go to bed. He looks distantly reluctant to tell Jinyoung that he’s finished.

“Appa, I’m all done.”

“Okay,” Jinyoung says, and he drops to one knee to give Yugyeom a hug. “You have thirty minutes to play Pokemon or read one of your story books before you have to turn off the light. Youngjae is going to come check on you to make sure you’re in bed after the thirty minutes. Okay?”

It is undeniable how satisfying it is that Yugyeom looks disappointed. But he is the child of Jaebum and Jinyoung and he will not show his face so easily, so he just nods and lets his wet bangs fall in front of his eyes before he marches down the hallway and into his bedroom. The house falls into its usual bedtime hush as Jinyoung pads in the opposite direction toward their own room at the end of the hall.

Jaebum is already undressed and laying across their bed with an arm under his head and a book held above his face. He glances over when Jinyoung enters, eyes lingering as Jinyoung strips out of his clothes but going back to his book when he realizes Jinyoung is just going to pull on a shirt and some sleep shorts. He flops down on the bed next to him, head resting on the arm holding the book up over his face to close his eyes.

“So?” Jaebum asks nonchalantly, lifting his head to use his other hand to turn the page and not disturb Jinyoung’s resting. “How’d it go?”

“I can tell he’s getting sick of it. He looked so disappointed when I told him that Youngjae was going to make sure his light was off.”

“You’re not even going to read to him? We even read to Youngjae sometimes still.” Jaebum laughs. “Harsh, babe.”

With a whine Jinyoung digs his fingers into Jaebum’s ribs, which makes him choke on a laugh and drop the book on his face. Jinyoung tries to roll out of the way but he’s in between Jaebum and the wall so once Jaebum pushes the book to the floor there’s nowhere for him to go. He laughs quietly as Jaebum reaches out for him, grabbing his hip and pulling until they’re slightly wrestling and giggling like teenage boys. Jaebum finally wins, both of Jinyoung’s wrists in his hands to stop the tickling and leaning down to softly kiss him on the mouth.

As Jaebum’s tongue parts his lips, distant thunder rumbles and rolls outside the window. Jaebum sighs happily, kissing him again before he drops down to his side and wraps an arm around Jinyoung’s waist.

“He doesn’t like thunderstorms,” Jaebum says, nudging him to turn off the light without saying so out loud. “The forecast said it’s supposed to rain tonight.”

Jinyoung slides back into his arms after sitting up to turn off the lamp by their bedside. From the crack underneath the door Jinyoung can see the illumination of a single bedroom light down the hall that goes dim followed by the soft sound of feet on the carpet. A door closes quietly and the house once more goes still. In the darkness of their room, Jinyoung smiles into Jaebum’s chest.

“He’s a big boy. He can handle it.”

But he can’t.

Sometime in the middle of the night, even Jinyoung is woken up by the echoing crack of a thunderclap close to the mountains. His heart jolts in his chest as he sits up, blinking in the milky, desaturated glow of the moon from their curtains as harsh rain pounds the windows like fists. Jaebum turns restlessly, half awake when Jinyoung sits up in bed. So far the house is quiet underneath the storm, but with how violently it’s raging he knows it won’t last much longer.

As expected, the door to their bedroom opens a few moments later. Yugyeom’s face is already streaked with tears, and more are falling as he rubs his fists into his eyes and makes his way to the foot of their bed.

“Daddy…Appa…” he hiccups, and Jinyoung’s heart bleeds. Though he hadn’t known that a storm would occur tonight, it had been on the cusp of becoming for days. He feels terrible that he had allowed his youngest child to suffer alone in his fear under the guise of letting him keep his pride.

“Yugyeomie…” Jaebum says sleepily, lifting his head and digging the heel of one hand into his eye. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m…” his voice quivers, as though he’s trying with all of his might not to cry but unable to hold it all in. Another crack of thunder makes him jump and utter a little terrified noise. “I’m really scared.”

Jinyoung opens his arms and immediately Yugyeom is climbing onto the bed to bury himself in them. Yugyeom’s soft hair tickles the bottom of his chin as he nestles his head right underneath it, arms wrapped tight around his neck and sniffling away the last of his tears. Jaebum leans up on an elbow to rub his back, singing softly under his breath the same way he had done to both him and Youngjae when they were babies. In the washed out light of the room, Jinyoung rests his cheek on Yugyeom’s head and aims his smile toward the rainy window so that Jaebum can’t see it.

Though Yugyeom had come to them for the comfort, Jinyoung finds that he himself is comforted in the way that his youngest son had still sought him out. He had been afraid that he was being a bad father by babying him a bit more than he should at five years old, but he misses the time that he had been able to do it with Youngjae and he feels as though he is trying desperately to hang to it as long as he can with Yugyeom. If he could freeze them right now, he would never let his babies grow up, and he would keep them all here in this room with him, arrested in this moment forever.

Yugyeom grows more and more tired as Jaebum rubs his back and sings quietly to them. Jinyoung feels the fluttering of his long eyelashes against his throat as his eyes slip closed, and just before he does, another little body is slinking in their doorway to stand meekly in the shadow of the dresser.

“Youngjae-yah,” Jinyoung whispers, still smiling softly. “Are you scared, too?”

He nods, even though he isn’t. Youngjae has always loved the sound of thunder, but he had likely woken up earlier as Jinyoung had and heard his father singing to his brother. Jinyoung lets go of Yugyeom for just a moment to pat the spot between him and Jaebum that opens as he scoots over just a little bit.

When their other son climbs in bed and settles down, Jaebum’s voice gets softer and softer until he falls asleep himself. Youngjae is next, head on Jaebum’s arm and leg thrown over Jinyoung’s thigh. Yugyeom curls up in the space between Youngjae’s hip and Jinyoung’s ribs, growing taller by the day and yet still just small enough to fit perfectly in the dip of Jinyoung’s armpit. His eyelids flutter as he fights sleep, and Jinyoung gently brushes off the hair from his forehead as he mutters one last thing before giving up:

“Appa, I don’t want to be a big boy anymore. Okay?”

He smiles even though he’s the only one who knows it. “Okay, Yugyeomie. You don’t have to be a big boy anymore.”

♡

[roxxythebirbrps]

Damien's Birthday Part 1

Charlie: *decided to hang around in Hogsmeade for a few days, taking in all the magic in the air remembering all her fun little spells and just decided to get back into the feel of the magic world. She missed it greatly, she was sitting at the desk in her motel room scribbling out a letter that really won't have to travel far but she can't just walk on campus without permission. Sealing the letter she hugs it smiling to herself and attaches it to the owl, giving it a light peck she sends it off to go to Damien directly. Flying around Hogwarts castle till it finds the right window and perches on the edge of the window and taps on the Hospital wing window with a Letter for Damien*

Damien: *just finished fixing up another wayward student wizarding battle, sighing just wondering it he was that dumb when he was young, deciding that he wasn't due to his being in Ravenclaw. After that he settled down in his office chair, rubbing his temples, trying to fight the urge to light another cigarette and failing, but as he got to the window something else caught his attention - an owl tapping at it. Confused he let the creature in, not expecting any mail from... well anybody really. The only people he could thing of was his parents and Charlie, though his parent try to avoid using wizarding mail unless necessary... so there's only really one person. And as he untied the letter, her handwriting was unmistakable to him*

Letter: Dear Damien, I decided to stay in Hogsmeade for a few days to practice my magic and take a break from my boring muggle life. Knowing you, you were already or about to start a chain smoking session while everyone else was in the Great Hall eating. Instead of doing that I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me. I'll be in the 3 broom sticks if you decide to come. Love and Kisses, Charlie~