#ANYWAY WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE. GO WISH HER A HAPPY BIRTHDAY. SHOO.

[squeaky-n-blushy]

Peas In a (Lotus) Pod

Fandom: Mo Dao Zu Shi / Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

Characters: Lee!Jiang Wanyin, Ler!Jiang Yanli, Ler!Wei Wuxian

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, mentions of suicidal ideation

Word count: 12.000 words

Summary: The children of Yunmeng Jiang persevered. Even in the face of adversity, joy could be found in the simplest of things. (It was going to be found whether it liked it or not. Jiang Wanyin's siblings would make sure of it. They couldn't let their brother be so upset on his birthday, could they?)

A/N: UMM HELLO??? WHY IS THERE NOT A PARTY GOING ON IN HERE?? UNACCEPTABLE. EVERYONE WAKE TF UP BECAUSE TODAY IS @kanene-yaaay 's BIRTHDAAYYY!!!! To celebrate this special day and the incredible, wonderful person and friend that you are, Kanene, have a little gift made with lots of love! May you have a fantastic birthday, mana, because you deserve nothing but the best <3 <3

Jiang Wanyin knocked on his father's door once.

Twice.

Thrice.

He made sure to call out for the man, asking him to please come out, so he'd know it was his son personally asking for him, and not some random disciple.

There was no response. No greeting, no footsteps from the other side of the door, not even the rustling sound of his father moving about in bed.

Time and time again, he'd gotten nothing. Hell, his only confirmation that his father was even alive in there were the empty dishes left on his doorstep after servants brought him meals.

Jiang Wanyin thought today would be different. He should have known better. But still, he hoped. And he felt ridiculous for it. He was a Sect Leader. (He had to be.) He fought in a war, had to take on the responsibility of rebuilding his ancestral home almost from scratch and he was an adult. Yet here he was, paralyzed in front of his father's door because he didn't bother to acknowledge him on his birthday, like some clingy child.

He couldn't afford to act like a child anymore. So why, why, did he feel frozen on the spot? Why did he feel transported back to that day, tossed into a boat and held down by Zidian, forced to watch as his home burned and his mother walked into an ambush?

Wanyin forced himself to turn on his feet. He could not take it personally. He could be mature about it. So what if his father didn't want to see him? The man didn't even ditch his seclusion for an incense stick's time to congratulate his only daughter, his eldest child, on setting an official date for her wedding— Which Wanyin knew he was aware of, because A-Jie wrote him an actual letter just to make sure he knew, instead of trying to talk to him through the door and hoping he was awake to hear it— So why would he grace his son with his presence?

It's been that way for nearly a year.

He understood, he did, that his father was dealing with far too much. He'd been captured by the Wen along with his mother that night they invaded Lotus Pier, then held captive in Nightless City up until the end of the Sunshot Campaign, being subjected to gods know what until he was rescued. ‘Far too much’ was an understatement. He couldn't imagine the kind of mental scars that would leave on someone.

But was it that selfish of him to wish he could have his father back? Scratch that, have his parents back.

Jiang Wanyin wasn't stupid. He knew his parents' treatment of him throughout the years was less than ideal. But they were still his parents, and he'd do anything to have them by his side. Especially now that he was suddenly pushed into the role of Sect Leader due to his father's seclusion. He wasn't a child, sure, but he still felt so terrifyingly young. Unprepared. At least if he had his parents by his side, maybe he wouldn’t be haunted by the feeling he had no clue what he was doing. He'd have some guidance, regardless of how inadequate (second-best insufficient not good enough never good enough) their counseling always made him feel.

He found himself missing even his mother's sharp words. She still sent letters, although visits were rare, but it wasn't the same. Even with his father holed up in his quarters, she refused to set foot in Lotus Pier if she could help it. Wanyin didn't know what was it that hit the final nail in the coffin to start off the divorce that's been looming over his family for years, (How would he? It's not like they told him anything) but those two were dead set on staying apart.

Which left him juggling the Jiang Sect by himself. Because what else was he supposed to do? Leave A-Jie and Wei Wuxian to shoulder his responsibilities while he ran off to Meishan Yu to whine to his mother?

Yeah, no.

He was handling it well enough on his own, given the circumstances. Too many of their friends shidis disciples were lost, and Lotus Pier literally went up in flames. Obviously everything felt like a huge fucking mess. It was, objectively, a huge fucking mess. Anyone would have trouble piecing together the broken fragments of post-war Yunmeng Jiang into something functional and respectable. The fact everything still felt scattered to the winds had nothing to do with his leadership.

Right?

Zidian crackled around his finger.

He didn’t understand why. He was fine, he was calm, he was taking it all in stride, as expected from someone of his station. He didn’t understand why some disciples scurried to get out of his way when he walked past either. What, was there something on his face?

Weird people. Who runs away from their Sect Leader like a frightened animal without at least a greeting?

Heavy footsteps came to a slow halt as he neared the main area of Lotus Pier, away from the sheltered part of the forest where his father’s seclusion home could be found. Actually, he’d gotten here quicker than usual. His body felt a bit more tense and his legs a little more sore than it did earlier this morning, too. Did he storm all the way here or something?

He hadn’t noticed.

Only when something small thrown with high speed collided with his forehead did he realize in the back of his mind that his face had been curled into a scowl. He scowled even further.

"Wei Wuxian!" He snarled up at trees towering above him, eyes darting between the leaves in search of the one person who'd have the gall to throw a lotus seed at him. Sure enough, Wanyin found him. Perched high up in a branch, wine bottle in hand and a stupid grin on his face like he didn’t have a care in the world. He grit his teeth. 'What are you- Get down! We have work to do and you're just lounging up there like a damn bird?!"

Wei Wuxian's playful smile slid right off, whatever dumb thing he was about to say dying on his lips. Jiang Wanyin regretted it almost instantly.

Maybe he wasn't so calm after all.

"Aiya- Jiang Cheng, the world won't explode if we take it easy for a day." Wei Wuxian forced casualness and joviality into his voice. Wanyin wasn't fooled. Ever since he came back from his three-month disappearance during the Sunshot Campaign, there was something off about him. Jiang Wanyin barely recognized him, at times. Even Lan Wangji was having more difficulty genuinely lifting his spirits when he stopped by, and that was saying something. Wei Wuxian must think Wanyin a fool as well as blind, to keep putting on that dumb facade where he pretended everything was fine, as if his face didn't turn hauntingly somber whenever Wei Wuxian thought no one else was looking. "Did you forget what day it is?"

Jiang Wanyin nearly missed his words, but the playfully mocking tone drew in his focus. Wanyin knew it was fake. He hated it.

Wanyin should have been there to protect him. Whatever happened during those three months, Wanyin should have prevented it. What was the use in delivering himself to the Wens on a silver platter to keep Wei Wuxian safe, if Jiang Wanyin wasn't there to keep him from becoming a shell of himself?

He should have recovered faster. They should have been side by side-

Bitterness built up in his chest, crawling up his throat, wrapping around his tongue and prying open his mouth like a snake.

"The world won't stop just because it's my birthday either! It's just a day like any other." He spat, the words sitting heavily in the air. He ignored the protests in the back of his mind and he especially ignored how the words stung as they forced their way out. That was the truth. How he felt about it didn't matter. "We don't have time to waste. The faster we're done with the renovations, the better."

Wei Wuxian had the gall to scoff at him as if he was the one who'd gone nuts. "What crap are you spewing? You never want to work on your birthday!" His brother jumped off the tree and bumped their shoulders together— grinning in that way that seemed almost right but not quite— as he wrapped an arm around his shoulder and tapped the wine bottle against Wanyin's chest. "Shijie's been looking for you for hours so we can go to the vendors like we used to. Stop looking like you swallowed a lemon, eh?"

"It's different this year!" The Sect Leader snapped. He didn't outright shove Wei Wuxian away, but he did slip out of his grasp. So much to be done, and his brother was out and about lounging and drinking and- "Our sect is in ruin, this place is a mess and it's not miraculously getting better the moment we turn our backs because it's not like we can expect A-Die to swoop in and fix everything like when we were kids anytime soon!"

His brother pursed his lips, understanding dawning on his eyes when he processed which direction Jiang Wanyin came from. "Did you-"

"Yes," Wanyin interrupted through gritted teeth. He surprised even himself with the venom in that simple word. "Not even you or A-Jie could get him out of that room, I don't know why I tried! Obviously he wouldn't bother with me!"

Wei Wuxian's expression was surprisingly patient given how many times they've revisited that argument. Or maybe patient wasn't the right word. Exhausted and with no will left to argue, perhaps, if the dark circles underneath his eyes that suddenly seemed far more noticeable were any indication. "Jiang Cheng, don't speak nonsense. You're his son and-"

"He seems to forget that a lot, doesn't he!"

Two brothers could only stare at each other after the outburst. Wei Wuxian wore a forlorn look that seemed so out of place on his face. Jiang Wanyin's throat felt unbearably tight, his chest rising and falling in a rapid rhythm. He wanted to yell. He wanted to punch something. He might have wanted to cry, a little. He did nothing, his whole body so tense it felt completely rigid.

The sound of leaves crushed over light, familiar footsteps drained the fight out of him. He sagged.

"A-Cheng..." Wanyin turned to the sound of his sister's voice, his own face mirroring hers as he caught sight of her crestfallen expression. Now he's upset not just himself but both his siblings. Great. Way to go, Jiang Wanyin.

"A-Jie," he was thankful his voice only trembled the slightest bit. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt that small in front of her. Part of him wanted to lean into it, to let the anguish roll off of him in waves and let himself be comforted by his older sister the way he'd never been comforted by his parents. But he couldn't do that to her, not when she already looked so heartbroken. He pushed down the urge. "I'm sorry, I can't- I shouldn't leave right now. There's too much to do and I already wasted too much time-" He put a stop to that line of thinking, lest bitterness creep into his tone again. "If you want something from the vendors, I can ask some disciples to take you. Or you can go with Wei Wuxian."

Wei Wuxian sent him an indecipherable look. Jiang Wanyin ignored it. He'd still prefer Wei Wuxian here lending him a helping hand, but if A-Jie wanted some time off from the chaos that was current Lotus Pier, he'd feel more at ease if she had their brother with her.

"Didi, you know that's not why we wanted to go. If the three of us aren't going, then we're not going either." Jiang Yanli took her youngest brother gently by the hand as she's done countless times since he was a toddler, guiding him to sit beside her by the tree trunk. She shot Wei Wuxian a pleading expression. Please stay.

The Head Disciple (or was he already the Second in Command now?) was sat beside Jiang Wanyin in an instant.

There was a furrow between the woman's eyebrows as she faced her brother.. "You went to see A-Die?"

Jiang Yanli's semblance grew uncharacteristically melancholic with each passing moment she awaited his answer. If Jiang Wanyin wasn't already feeling like utter crap, he'd slap himself for putting such an expression on his sister's face.

"Seeing him is kind of a stretch." He genuinely wasn't sure what he was even expecting from his attempt. Maybe a note slid underneath the door if his father didn't feel like talking? Maybe for the man to whisper something to himself from his bed at least? The bright golden core spinning in Wanyin's dantian made his senses far stronger than before, yet he heard no sign his father wished to talk to him or that he even knew what day it was. Not even a sharp intake of breath. "It was stupid. I shouldn't have."

He certainly couldn't have actually expected his father would come out of seclusion, even if just for a moment, to spend some time with him just for the sake of it. No, that didn't sound like his father at all.

The young Sect Leader didn't like the feeling of being proven right, for once.

He vaguely heard Wei Wuxian making some loud noise of protest, but ultimately letting their sister take the reins of the conversation.

"A-Cheng. Don't say that." Her tone was chiding and firm, every bit the eldest child of a prestigious sect. Every bit the daughter of the famous (infamous, too) Violet Spider. "This day is important to you, it's always been. There's nothing stupid in wanting to spend it with people also important to you."

Now more than ever, under her gaze, Jiang Wanyin felt like a child again. But he found that in her presence, he didn't quite mind. She's said it herself once that they would always be her baby brothers. If some parts of her would always see him as a kid, he could afford to engage a little every now and then when the mantle of Sandu Shengshou the Sect Leader weighed too heavily on his shoulders.

"You can't take it so personally. Jiang-shushu, he's-" Wei Wuxian wore a strange look of uncertainty that Jiang Wanyin assumed to be the result of the battle between the admiration he held for his father and the bitterness that festered inside each of them. "He's not in his right mind."

"Obviously!" Jiang Wanyin glowered. "He'd have to be out of his mind not to show his face to A-Jie when she tried!" They both generally brushed aside how he'd been so ready to take it completely personally when it was himself that his father turned down. Jiang Yanli didn't manage to disguise her exasperation when Wanyin turned to her, his face bordering in apologetic. "If he did open that damned door today but not when you went to talk about your engagement, I'd start questioning my filiality."

Now he was almost thankful his father gave him no response. He couldn't begin to imagine how A-Jie would feel. Birthdays rolled around every year, so what if he cared too much about his? It's not every year you announce you're getting married.

Jiang Yanli gave a fond shake of her head and spoke with far more certainly than she felt. "We just have to be patient. Give him time, and he'll come around." With a soothing smile she pushed aside her own doubts, her own fears. Her brother needed reassurance. And that, at least, was familiar. She clung to it. "It won't be like it used to, but It'll be... better than this."

Silence blanketed them as they willed themselves to believe. Or at least pretend like they did, for each other's sake.

Jiang Wanyin wasn't sure he could pretend, not even to himself. He knew, better than the two of them would ever know, what it felt like for someone raised as an heir to a Sect to be completely weakened.

Powerless.

Coreless.

Even so, he wasn't stuck in that miserable state for nearly as long as his father. At least he was given some hope shortly after Wen Zhuliu became a source of his nightmares.

Baoshan Sanren. The name inspired in him gratitude and anger in equal measure.

What use was there in cultivating to immortality, in having powers beyond mortal comprehension, if you'd hide yourself away in a mountain when your skills were needed by so many? What was the point in mastering how to practically give life back to a cultivator, restore their future, if you would do it for the son of a past disciple but not leaders of a great sect? Or anyone else that had no personal ties to you, for that matter? (Sometimes he wanted to drag his parents up that mountain himself, despite Wei Wuxian's insistence that it would be for nothing.)

If he hadn't lied about his name back there, what would have become of him?

Alive, he would be, he presumed. Though he believed his parents dead at the time, he still had his siblings. There were times he... considered. But if it came down to it, if he had the opportunity to try while under Wen-guniang's supervision, he wasn't sure he could put what remained of his family through that anguish.

He supposed that, too, was the case for his mother. Her pride was damaged beyond repair with the loss of her cultivation, but Meishan Yu didn't let go of its children. His mother might have lost much, but she still had her sisters to support her. That wasn't the same for his father, however.

'Attempt the impossible' was their sect's motto. Jiang Wanyin always believed his father was stronger than him. He hoped with all his might that was the truth. Because he couldn't imagine himself finding the strength to attempt to bounce back from this.

The three of them sat in silence, merely being there for one another, A-Jie holding onto his hand and Wei Wuxian almost leaning onto him.

Minutes later, oblivious to his solemn thoughts, Wei Wuxian decided he had enough of the tension.

"And he'll be heartbroken to hear you spent your birthday sulking and running around Lotus Pier like a workaholi-"

"I am not sulking!" Jiang Wanyin shoved his shoulder.

A finger was wagged teasingly at him as his brother laughed. "That's exactly what a sulking person would say!" That familiar playful grin adorned his face again. Relief lightened the burden on his heart at the sincerity of it, even if it was at his expense.

Exhaling sharply, Wanyin felt a pull at the threads of his resistance. He still couldn't afford to spend much time away from his duties. But he supposed he could spare a bit, if only to make his siblings quit looking at him like he's about to break into a fever from overworking. "I still don't want to stay away for too long." He conceded. "Just the trip to the vendors and back would take half a shichen."

"Aiyo, fine, we can just hang around here then." Wei Wuxian jabbed a finger on his side. "But no working! For at least a shichen! You were up so late last night reading trade agreements it's a miracle you don't look like a walking corpse!"

Bless the older man's chatter for making his gasp go unnoticed.

Yet neither of them missed the way he stiffened.

Wanyin made the grave error of making eye contact with his brother and thus saw the exact moment when an idea formed in his head. Which usually did not bode well for him.

Hands latched onto his sides and the squawk that left him was in no way dignified. "You-!" Another embarrassing noise and he sent his brother the fiercest glare he could muster as he once again shoved him away. "Stop being childish!"

His troublemaker brother was undeterred. If anything, he was encouraged. "Who's being childish?" The stubborn hands returned with a vengeance, playful fingers digging into his clothes until he doubled over. "If tickling was just for kids, we'd have grown out of it!"

Jiang Yanli gigged at their antics beside him. Wanyin sent her a half pleading look, which only resulted in her bringing up a hand to hide an amused smile, contrasting to the mischievous delight washed over Wei Wuxian's face like he just sneaked into the Cloud Recesses a jar of Emperor's Smile for each rule etched into the Wall of Discipline.

The beginning of a protest was interrupted by a shriek as his sides were tased. Wei Wuxian swiftly avoided a hit by Jiang Wanyin's head as the latter trashed on the spot. "Now you're starting to look like a birthday man! You can't be sad on your birthday, that's like, the rule!" The menace flashed his sister a toothy grin. "Look, look, Shijie, doesn't he look a lot happier now?"

Jiang Yanli clapped enthusiastically, the perfect picture of joy and innocence. "The happiest!"

"A-Jihihihie!" Jiang Wanyin didn't whine at the betrayal, because he does not whine, but he did guffaw and jump as nimble fingers poked too close to his ribs before returning to his sides. "Dohohon't ehehencourahahage him!"

The woman leaned in closer, her lips curled into a very particular smile Wanyin hasn't seen in a long time. "But it's been so long since we got to have fun like this!" He felt the ghost of a touch against his ribcage before the fingers even made contact, his legs kicking uselessly in front of him. "And you've been so stressed lately, you should get to let loose a little. I think this could be good for you, didi."

His face burned. He wondered just when was it that his treacherous body decided to give up and not ask for his input, practically letting the two do whatever. Get up! Fight back! At least make a run for it! Don't just sit there like a dog squirming without thought or directio- "AHAHAHAHASSHOHOHOLE!"

Wei Wuxian gleefully ignored the outburst and kept up the onslaught of pinches up and down one side of his brother's ribcage, while giving Jiang Yanli free reign over the other. "And! We still gotta give you your birthday gifts!" His grin was downright diabolical as the younger man's features conveyed his confusion and suspicion as best as they could. "I hid the actual gifts in your room, but we can whip something else up right now! Cuz A-Cheng deserves the best gifts!"

"I'll pahahahass!" Wanyin scooted towards Yanli, the current lesser of two evils. He would have liked to say he immediately regretted calling his sister such a vile thing even in his thoughts, but rationality was pushed aside as she took his approach as permission to simultaneously skitter up his ribs and reach around him from behind to squeeze his other side, making him flail from left to right like a fish.

"You're turning what, twenty two?" Wei Wuxian tapped a finger against his own cheek in mock pondering like he didn't know the answer by heart, grin unwavering as he leaned over until his face was almost pressed against his ribs. "I say we give you twenty two of these gifts then! One for each year!"

"Whahahahat are yohohohou- NOHOHOHO!" He screeched, pushing Wei Wuxian's head. The explosion of sensation puppeteered his body farther from the attack– finally it came to its senses!– until he backed against the tree. Mercifully, Wei Wuxian allowed himself to be pushed away and didn't go for another torturous raspberry right after the previous that still had his skin tingling underneath his robes.

A-Jie beamed, following after him with a grace which contradicted the rare mischievousness shining in her eyes that did not mellow down over the years as he thought. In a fit of compassion, or maybe delusion, he sent a prayer up for the Peacock and whatever lucky yet poor soul Yanli would befriend when they unleashed her into Koi Tower.

Jiang Wanyin surrendered himself to the inevitable. He wasn't going to fight against his sister and fall victim to those obviously fake but still powerful, saddened 'My didi doesn't want my affection..?' puppy eyes.

"Oh my!" Yanli chirped, burying her face on his exposed neck and going in for the kill with no hesitation. The loud cackles ripped from his throat would have nearly muffled her next words, were the feigned innocence in her voice not alarming enough to grab his attention. "Twenty two from each of us? A-Cheng, I think you'll break the records of how many birthday gifts any young master's ever gotten."

Mutiny. That's what this was.

Wanyin has grown so wary of Wei Wuxian's tricks since he was mostly the main instigator, that he forgot where the man learned it all from.

"JIHIHIEHEHEJIE! Pleheheahase!"

The aforementioned bastard snickered, more than happy to play along with the deliberate misinterpretation of his words. "Are you telling us Sandu Shengshou can't take a few raspberries?" With eyes theatrically blown wide he drilled into Wanyin's hipbones. "Oh no no no, Jiang Cheng, we can't have that! What if some yao figures out it can take you down like this? You gotta be prepared!"

The impish grin stretched on his lips did nothing to convince Jiang Wanyin of the validity of his argument. Which didn't bother Wei Wuxian in the slightest if the raspberry unceremoniously blown on the other side of his neck meant anything. "This shixiong will help you build up tolerance! Though we should probably start off small, better if we stick to just twenty two in general." Fingertips crawled over his stomach as Wei Wuxian sent Jiang Yanli a playfully apologetic glance. "Sorry, Shijie! Save the other twenty two for next year, then throw in an extra one for inflation!"

Wanyin's exclamation of both relief and affront went unnoticed amidst the trio's laughter. Mostly his, as much as it embarrassed him to admit. "A-Xian is Head Disciple. If he thinks it's best-" Yanli stopped dead in her tracks. She blinked, staring as Jiang Wanyin instinctively propelled himself forward as her hand ghosted over a spot on his back.

Jiang Wanyin stood frozen on his feet and dared to look behind him, expecting to be met with A-Jie's big sad eyes and carry out The Walk Of Shame back to his siblings.

What he saw was somehow worse.

Jiang Yanli stood up only a few footsteps away, lips ever so slowly curling into a wide grin as they held eye contact. Behind her, leaning against the tree but ready to break into a sprint at any moment, Wei Wuxian mirrored their sisters grin with one of his own that seemed to spell out 'You are so screwed.'

It unlocked things he'd unconsciously repressed for too long.

Memories of being much, much smaller than he was now, tucked underneath his sister's arm and giggling his heart out. The joy of dashing away with stubby little legs, smiling so widely it almost hurt. Then the comfort and warmth of lying on her lap next to his brother after they'd been thoroughly tired out, squeals escaping them as a hand running soothingly across their backs accidentally strayed too close to a sensitive spot.

It all came rushing back to him quicker than he could process and something he'd long forgotten how to name bubbled in his chest.

Jiang Wanyin, despite his faults, was a smart, well-trained man. A force of nature fated to prevail at all costs. The young Sect Leader knew what he had to do.

Gathering all his courage, he ran.

Twin giggles echoed behind him, leaves and twigs crushed beneath his boots in a rapid pace. They might have called for him, but it was all drowned in the waves of giddiness and playfulness he hasn't felt since youth, alongside his awareness of his surroundings. He let his body and instincts guide him, the layout of Yunmeng Jiang's Lotus Pier familiar enough he could navigate it in his sleep.

He didn't know where he was running to, all he knew was the strength of the light-hearted urge to put distance between himself and his siblings who were determined to make a fun, delightful mess out of him.

Jiang Wanyin let his legs carry him to the heart of Lotus Pier, only the sound of wood under his feet alerting him that he's left the forest as adrenaline clouded his perception.

He could make out a set of light running footsteps tailing his every movement (One? Why was there only one?), slowly and steadily growing closer. Jiang Wanyin pointedly ignored the mocking voice in his head that said if he truly wanted to escape his nearly coreless sister, he would have already circled qi through his body to make himself faster by now.

Wanyin wouldn't do it because he wasn't a dirty cheater. No other reason. (The voice, which sounded suspiciously like a mix of Wei Wuxian and Zewu-jun, responded with a disingenuous 'Yes, of course.')

A startled feminine yelp pushed him out of his thoughts and he acted on instinct, rushing back and reaching his sister just in time to keep her from plummeting to the floor. Only for him to end up on the floor as Jiang Yanli embraced him and guided him down like a straw doll.

He barely had time to blink before feeling wood planks against his back, his nose being playfully tapped as a cheerful grin and shining eyes were flashed at him from above. "Have more faith in your jiejie, A-Cheng. I'm not that clumsy."

The man couldn't even wrap his head around the betrayal before a pair of lips nestled in the center of his stomach had him curling up with a shrill shriek. "NOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE, A-JIHIHIHIE!"

"Not there?" Jiang Yanli innocently tilted her head and he braced for impact, shutting his eyes to cope with the terribly ticklish leftover sensation that still lingered on that spot as she aimed for his side. "Okay!"

Heat flushed to his cheeks at the embarrassingly bubbly giggles that flowed out of him like a stream from the devastating combination of a raspberry to his side and her nose nuzzling against it like a rabbit. Even as he writhed and tried not pushing her away, the gesture transported him back to a time he barely remembered, calling forth what he could only describe as nostalgia and child-like happiness. Until an unforgiving mouth blew on his belly button again.

"GAHAHAHAHAHAH WHY?!" Self-preservation took over and he shoved at the offending face with all the gentleness Jiang Wanyin could afford, the incessant jingling of his clarity bell audible over his booming laughter from how much he fidgeted. (He couldn't go as far as to, what, staying still and taking it? No one could possibly have that much of a thick face.)

He grew redder as he not only heard but felt his brother snickering into his stomach. His eyes opened to see Wei Wuxian's lopsided grin. "What? You asked Shijie, not me!" His tone was conversational like he was merely commenting on the weather rather than reducing his Sect Leader to hysteria. "Unless I'm your A-Jie now. I'd make a pretty woman!"

When he responded with a squawk plus a kick of his leg it was certainly due to Wei Wuxian's words, and not due to the calloused fingers now kneading the back of his thigh. "A frohohohog wohohohould mahahahake a prehehettihihier wohohohoman than yohohohou!"

Jiang Yanli let her mouth fall open in false shock, clutching a hand to her chest while the other traced senseless shapes on his side. "Didi, don't talk like that to someone teaching you such an important lesson. This could be a matter of life or death, you know."

'What lesson?! How to keep making all these brainless noises?! A baby could do that!' His mind cried out as manicured nails teased the area where his side met his waist, where he was ridiculously sensitive, then spidered upwards to briefly brush against his lower ribs- where he was, also, ridiculously sensitive. Jiang Wanyin didn't know who'd taught his sister to be so ruthless, but he had some choice words to say to them.

Wei Wuxian vigorously shook his head, fingers drumming all over the underside of Wanyin's thigh like one would with a dizi. "No, no, see, this is how you know he's learning! He'd insult everything he laid his eyes on back when we were learning sword forms." Never once pausing his attack, he heightened the pitch of his voice to imitate a younger Jiang Wanyin. "I would have gotten it right if this dumb rock wasn't in the way! I'll kill these damn birds if they don't stop swooping in and distracting me! Whose stupid idea was it to fight with a ponytail if your opponent can just grab it?!" His head was thrown back as he laughed (Genuine. Genuine. Wanyin's spirit cheered), beaming with fondness and what was unmistakably pride. "It was dumb this, idiot that, but he'd always be one of the first to get whatever we were doing right."

"A-Cheng was always a wonderful student." Jiang Yanli agreed easily, voice warmer than the warmth of her fingers scraping gently over his side, following his every squirm. "I have it on good authority that some Jin disciples really looked up to you at the Cloud Recesses lectures. If things were less tense back then, you'd have your own ducklings trailing after you."

Bafflement broke through Wanyin's joyful expression. Wei Wuxian snorted at the combination of puzzled eyes, a wide smile and a red face.

"Maybe it's not just the Peacock that has good taste. I bet you work harder in a day than they have their whole lives!" The older boy sat over his brother's knees, keeping him from kicking out too much as Wei Wuxian's relentless squeezes alternated between one thigh and the other. "Pretty sure I've never met anyone who works harder than you, actually. Gusu Lan is struggling almost as hard as our sect even with the Jin helping them rebuild, while the only thing keeping Yunmeng Jiang afloat is your leadership."

The young Sect Leader felt his throat tighten and his eyes sting, which he would have ruled off as tears of laughter were the timing not suspicious. Aiyo, what's up with this? You hear a few nice words and you start crying? You must be really at rock bottom if you're down to this level!

"I don't think I've ever seen you fail at something you set your mind to." Yanli's whole demeanor softened, the playful tilt of her voice fading into something much more earnest. The nimble touches on his side slowed to a caress that could almost be called comforting if it didn't have him twitching in anticipation of something more intense. "A-Die...A-Niang...even A-Xian. For all you knew, you lost them, and you still had the willpower to help lead a war and win." A hint of sadness lingered on her smile as she offered his side a slight squeeze. If the gesture was meant to be soothing, it missed the mark entirely. Wanyin tried not to squirm away from it either way. "That takes far more strength than you realize."

The soft touches overwhelmed his mind and demanded his undivided attention, barring him from truly processing what was said to him. But the words' effects were felt by him all the same, in the way his body sagged as the fight and anguish vanished out of him. It was strange– but not unwelcome, he supposed– to feel like he did after he'd had a long cry in his sister's arms as a child, but from laughing himself hoarse. He guessed it was nice, maybe.

Wei Wuxian huffed in open affection. That alone could have made Jiang Wanyin turn his head in poorly disguised flusteredness, though the jolting sensation of curious fingers rubbing lightning quick circles into his hipbones played a massive part in it. "He's got plenty of strength to spare." Unforgiving drilling was unleashed upon the sensitive areas, as if Wanyin's strength was his brother's personal invitation to torment him as he pleased. As Wanyin felt the diligent attack falter, he risked a glance up at his brother. The soft, tender smile directed at him wasn't something he realized his brother's face was capable of doing. It tugged at his emotions more than he'd have liked it to. "I never thanked you for getting back to the Xuanwu's cave so quickly, did I?"

He didn't. And Jiang Wanyin wasn't about to let him start now. (Wanyin would have done it again, for his brother. Would do more. Did do more.)

Through chortles and gulps of much needed air, he managed to grit out what first came to his head. "As if yohohou wohohouldn't shuhuhut yohohoursehehelf off in anohohother cahahave if Lan Wahahahangji was in IHIHIHIHIT-!"

Wei Wuxian's rose victorious from his brother's waist where he planted a raspberry without as much as a warning, Yanli snickering as his laughter jumped up an octave. "You're one to talk! Don't think I don't know about your new penpal Zewu-jun!" Wei Wuxian had the audacity to wait until their gazes met to waggle his eyebrows. "What, are joining their rebuilding team and helping raise Gusu Lan back into glory or are you raising other things?"

Wanyin's eyes bulged, pink hues washing over his cheeks. "Wei Wuxian!"

His attempt at swatting his vulgar brother in indignation were foiled by Jiang Yanli taking the window of opportunity where he'd raised his arm and ducking in to aim a raspberry in his underarm of all places. "You really think so?" She conversed gleefully over his backstabbed, disbelieving sputters and exclamations, reaching down to trace as much of his kneecaps as she could reach with the other man sitting over them. "I'd love for someone to look after my didi when I'm away at Koi Tower."

He was not- HE WAS NOT DEFLOWERING SECT LEADER LAN! Nor the other way around! And neither would happen anytime soon! So what if Wanyin enjoyed his company more than he did most people's and wanted some way to keep in touch frequently, given Lan Xichen didn't have time to swing by Lotus Pier so often like a certain other Lan he knew? Can't a man have a close male friend in his life without being labeled a cut-sleeve? Sect Leader Nie and that Jin Guangyao seemed close and Wanyin wouldn't assume they'd trail after each other with lovestruck eyes!

No, he knew other people who did that.

"Me?" He yelled out amidst a wave of sniggering, courtesy of his sister venturing too close to the underside of his knees, trying to sneak between them and the floor. "It's Wehehei Wuhuhuxihian you shohohould wohohorry abohohout! Lettihihing that stohohone wall Lahahan Wahahangji wahahalk all ohohohover him! He'd juhuhump off a clihihihiff if Lan Wahahahangji dihihid!"

A reprieve from Wei Wuxian absentmindedly trailing up and down his hips and thighs was granted to him as the man scoffed in dramatic outrage at the insult to his 'Lan Zhan'. (Gross, even in his thoughts Wanyin heard the name in his brother's weird flirtatious voice.) Silver eyes narrowed in warning. Wanyin tensed immediately the second his brother's head took a dive for his stomach and-

"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-!" His back arched and his entire frame convulsed, the ridiculous silliness of the situation dragging him further into that fuzzy, giddy state of mind with each obnoxious 'PFFFBBBT' his attacker let out, rubbing his face into the expanse of his stomach for good measure to drive him further into madness.

A millisecond of nothingness. He thanked the heavens. It was over, right?

Then another blow of quirked up lips against clothed skin. Wanyin jostled with enough force to nearly throw his brother off him. One more cruel, taunting pause. And then another, before that demon was forced to retreat as Wanyin's hands flew down pry him off.

Which, he realized with danwing horror the moment Wei Wuxian got a hold of his wrists and pinned them over his head, was not the smartest decision to make. (That smug bastard had better count himself lucky A-Jie was on his side, or he'd have used spiritual energy to break free and turn the tables ages ago. Just because it was fun didn't mean Wanyin had to be a pushover about it.)

Panting and through eyes almost crinkled shut with the width of his smile, Jiang Wanyin called forth the will to glare at Wei Wuxian, who wiped off his own mouth with his free hand. "Eugh-!" The black-robed man stuck out his tongue in mock disgust. "Tastes like vinegar!"

"A-Cheng." Jiang Yanli cut in warmly, successfully worming her fingers under his knees and wriggling like there was no tomorrow, the onslaught on his nerves sweeping an 'I'll show you vinegar!' from the tip of his tongue. "Do you remember, when you were very little and you saw me petting a dog's stomach, you'd lay down next to it and ask for the same?"

Above him, his brother choked with delighted laughter. Wanyin was positive his face was on fire. It must have been. There can't be any other explanation for the way everything from his neck to the tips of his ears burned. "JihihIHIHIE!" The youngest's squeals pierced through the air, blunt nails fluttering at his underarm, pressing down at the sensitive center with deadly precision. "THAHAHAHAT WAS YEHEHEARS AHAHAGO!"

As though to connect him with his younger and shameless self, Jiang Yanli switched her focus to his stomach, spidering gently yet relentlessly along the middle. He thought she'd forgotten that- Why did she still remember that? He barely remembered that! Why did she have to remind him of that? Where had his kind, merciful sister gone? Spare your didi's pride!

Fragments of several occasions of darting through the legs of people much taller than him, of spotting his jiejie and launching himself to the ground next to her, knowing she'd cradle his head before it reached the floor. Of gleefully clinging to her sleeves, shrill giggles wracking his tiny body, playful touches and wet snouts encasing him in delight. Joy and affection burning brightly within him, brighter than any golden core he could grow to cultivate. Simple happiness.

He hid his flaring face on his shoulder just in time to muffle a startled shriek as his sister landed two 'gifts' on the tender skin between the bones of his ribs.

Jiang Yanli peered down at her youngest brother, lost in cherished memories of easier times, lips curved upwards in such a way that was so inconceivably fond Wanyin couldn't bear to even pretend to be angry at her. Not even when she took to prodding lightly at his bellybutton, following after it no matter where he flailed. "And you'd dip your feet in the water and let the fish nibble your toes, giggling so much you'd almost fall off the dock."

Jiang Wanyin's ability to think straight had long since bid him farewell. He wasn't going to waste any mental energy wondering how in the world she knew that when he always made sure there was no one else nearby back then.

"Jiang Cheng!" Wei Wuxian grinned like he'd never been happier than in this very moment. Scratch the grin, the man practically had stars in his eyes, gaze locked with his as he dug and vibrated blindly into his underarm. Wanyin swore, if he started cooing, he would throttle him. "Is that why sometimes you went to the docks alone, barefoot, and got prissy whenever I tried going with? Xiao A-Cheng was so embarrassed to ask his siblings to tickle him he had to resort to fish?"

Thirst for revenge sparked in Jiang Wanyin. If that was the game his brother wanted to play, he knew how to pay in coin. "Lihihike yohohou wehehere any behehehetter! You uhuhused to drahahahag mehehe to A-Jihihie and say we wahahahanted tihihicklehehes behehecahause yOHOHOU-!" Fingers sneaking to the back of his ribcage followed by a pair of raspberries over the crook of his neck were quick to silence him.

"Ah ah ah!" Wei Wuxian waved a finger at his face. For all his shamelessness, a faint pink dusted his cheeks. (Wanyin could accept this small victory.) "This is your 'losing face' moment, not mine!" Nearly having one of his secrets thrown at their sister's feet didn't deter him from kneading into his back ribs with renewed vigor, nor from sharing a conspiratorial glance with their sister, unbeknownst to the youngest, when he jerked hard enough to almost turn to lay on his side.

A light scribbling of nails up Wanyin's side from his sister- the same side of his torso Wei Wuxian was ruthlessly targeting- sent him trashing to the opposite side to evade the torturously playful sensation. "A-Xian, don't bully him." Yanli chided even as the grin plastered on her face showed she was anything but displeased. Said grin only widened when Jiang Wanyin trashed to the side and flipped over in his momentum as Wei Wuxian suddenly got off him, only to instantly sit over the back his thighs and pin him with his weight as Wanyin's front hit the docks.

Three fingers were held up to Wei Wuxian's temple, the customary 'I'm up to no good' grin radiant on his face. "I'd never, Shijie!" The aforementioned fingers signifying the promise he would not be mean to his brother quickly contradicted themselves by walking upwards to the evil spot between his shoulder blades where Wanyin couldn't reach. "I'm being so nice to our Chengcheng! Who wouldn't love this ugly face?"

Asshole. Ass. Hole.

"I'm gohohohonna breheheak yohour lehehehegs!" Squawks erupted from the youngest as his back was thoroughly (playfully, delightfully) assaulted with his siblings' combined forces, A-Jie scritching lazily at the small of his back while the older man took to prodding every single sensitive area on his upper back and laughing at each embarrassing noise forced out of him. (Squeaks, snorts, fucking squeals. He was never going to live this down.) The red on his cheeks could probably dye a dozen wedding robes.

An overjoyed gasp accompanied by wide, gleaming silver eyes countered his threat, and Jiang Wanyin was alerted that was the wrong thing to say. The worst possible thing he could have said. He could never criticize his brother for running his mouth ever again after sealing his fate like this.

"Shijie! Shijie!" Wei Wuxian beamed before Wanyin could protest, mischief written in every corner of his expression as he met the eldest's eyes while continuing to show less mercy to his beloved brother than he did to enemies on the battlefield. At least most of them died a quick death and didn't have to bear such humiliation- "Did we ever tell you how he came up with that threat?"

Fuck.

Jiang Yanli looked between them in open curiosity. Wanyin suddenly had a newfound appreciation for Nie Huaisang's tactic of hiding behind a fan.

"Dohohon't you dahahare, Wehehei Wuxihihian! Yohohou swohohohore!" Giddy panic flowing through him, reaching deep into his mind and taunting it, pacifying it, paralyzing it all at once, all he could do was writhe. Gentle wiggling fingers explored his lower back with precision, slowing or quickening their pace based on what got the biggest reactions from each spot. Incessant touches trailed up to the back of his neck, fluttering in such a way that had his hairs standing on end, made their diabolical way into the area between the back of his ribs and underarms and-!

Wei Wuxian's hands flew up to cover his own ears at the ear-piercing screech that echoed through the pier. A mere moment of respite for Wanyin's sanity before going back to tasing and tasing and tasing with single-minded focus. "Aiyah, stop trashing! You're gonna hurt Shijie!" Wanyin hadn't even registered whatever it is his arms were doing until his brother had them pinned with a 'tsk' and a torrent of vibrating digits over the bones of his ribcage.

He would have been thankful for Wei Wuxian staying rooted to the upper part of his body rather than drifting downward and unleashing hell, if he didn't know his brother held out purely for suspense. Jerk.

Quickly recovered from the near slap, Jiang Yanli chuckled into his lower back. The vibrations of the sound against covered skin eliciting from him a bubbly little giggle, descending into a hearty laugh as the spot became a target for a horrible, terrible, no good raspberry. "It's alright. A-Cheng will be careful, won't he?"

Wanyin, in his daze, very intelligently chortled wordlessly in return. The pair chose to take it as an affirmative.

"I don't know about that!" Wei Wuxian cackled, dragging fingertips teasingly down his ribcage, down his sides, down his hips and turning to trace past the sides of thighs. A giddy delirium settled in Jiang Wanyin's chest chest the lower those buzzing touches traveled. Instinct demanding he put effort into crawling away, pleading uselessly to a brain overpowered by warmth, fuzziness and a somehow mirthful, light-hearted brand of nervousness as the man neared the spot that would inevitably be his downfall-

Only to jump back to behind his knees.

"Shijie, there's this one spot on his legs I found when we were kids- I'll tell you, gets him kicking and screaming like he's being dragged to his death!" Stage-whispering to the woman over Wanyin's yells of relief and indignation over being tricked, Wei Wuxian leaned in closer to their sister. "He tried getting me there once, he was convinced I'd perish right then and there, because if he's that ticklish there, then everyone has to be at least a little ticklish, right?" Bearing an unfaltering shit-eating grin, Wei Wuxian's agile fingers curled and uncurled masterfully at the taut skin behind his knees. "Nope! Not a sound from me! You should've seen him, pouting like the universe betrayed him! Said if he couldn't get me back fairly he'd have to break my legs instead!"

Jiang Wanyin's face defied the laws of nature by having turned redder than what he thought possible as Jiang Yanli fell into ungraceful laughter. She had to actually withdraw her hands from him to focus on regaining her breath. Wanyin was thankful for small mercies, but at what cost? "No-" A wheezing giggle broke through her words. "No wonder you never took it seriously."

The Sect Leader decided to keep all his focus on not bending his legs– knowing from experience it would be infinitely worse if he trapped Wei Wuxian's fingers– to shelter his sanity from dwindling from both his siblings making fun of him to his face in such a way.

"Please, he's all talk!" The man taunted, each passing of fingertips against the unguarded spot making Wanyin wish he would launch himself into the lake rather than voluntarily sit through this. "I deserved it though. I got him good, he was almost crying!" Were Jiang Wanyin not laying on his stomach, he would have seen the demonic grin that split his face in half. "Like this."

Squeezes fell upon the deathly ticklish spot of his calves and Wanyin screamed.

"TRAHAHAHAHAHAIHIHITOHOHOR!" Overwhelming, overjoying, overbrutal, overpowering. That was all one could describe it as, as the electricity feeling bombarded his body, his nerves, his mind, his everything. Prods upon tases upon spidering sent the man over the edge of coherency, senseless blabbering and screeching spilling out of him like blood from an open wound. Wanyin knew how to deal with wounds, he didn't know how to deal with this.

The only coherent thought he caught hold of was Wei Wuxian better watch his back around Lan Wangji, when the stone-faced man suddenly acquired sensitive information regarding his brother and an uncommon, devastating spot Wanyin swore not to share, as long as Wei Wuxian didn't share his.

"A-Cheng," Jiang Yanli's glee shone in her eyes like the blazing sun. Wanyin looked back before promptly faceplanting onto the wood beneath him when he caught sight of her approaching. Their brother generously conceded her one of his calves, light fluttering joining unforgiving skittering in his gifted concoction of hysteria. "How come you never told me? I'm hurt, you know. I wouldn't have abused that knowledge."

'Because you'd get a kick to the face, that's why!' Crying out to himself he felt the moment the control over his legs snapped, only the fast wind against his pants making him consciously aware of his limbs trashing with no direction. Distantly, he felt his brother holding down his leg and his sister clinging into the other, arms wrapped around it and jiggling fingers pressing directly into it. It was incredible and horrifying, how the material offered no protection whatsoever. Up until now he'd never had reason to curse the thinness of the Jia- "GEHEHEHET OHOHOHOHOUT OF THEHEHEHEHERE!”

"Ah?" Wei Wuxian's speedy squeezes up and down the length of his calf didn't so much as halt as his target flailed. "But look at how much you're smiling! I haven't seen you that happy in- Ever! Maybe if you keep smiling long enough you won't make that ugly wrinkly sour grape face ever again!" The Second Tickle Monster of Lotus Pier earned himself a yelp of maybe annoyance, maybe sheer frenzy between thundering laughs. "Aiyah, don't yell like we're murdering you, we're doing you a favor! We're just looking after our didi's reputat-"

Abruptly, it all came to a stop.

Retracting his hands like they'd been burned, Wei Wuxian staggered backwards.

Jiang Yanli brought a hand to her mouth. Whatever she was hiding behind it, Wanyin couldn't see, couldn't care for it at that moment. His thoughts reeled. Over and over, that word echoed within him.

"Jiang Cheng-" The expression on Wei Wuxian's face was almost, almost blank. Carefully blank, with only the smallest tightening of his lips signifying the turmoil that lay beneath. He'd seen it before, plenty of times, when the other navigated his mother's temper to avoid her lashing out. It didn't belong on his face, not here, not now. Wanyin despised it, wanted to shake it out of him. "I-"

Jiang Wanyin growled. A pulsing strength from gods know where sparked through his muscles and, with a cry, and a gasp from their sister, Wei Wuxian was tackled to the floor.

"About damn time!" Wanyin barked. Panting and shaking from exertion, he dug viciously into the bewildered moron's hips. Wide and shocked silver eyes shut instantly with the force of uncontrollable laughter. The youngest's booming yells carried over it all, each irate-sounding sentence accentuated by a squeeze or vibrating fingers revealing the real care within. "What took you so fucking long?! Am I not good enough to be your brother? I get you out of trouble, I carry you on my shoulder when the Lans beat you, I don't let dogs anywhere near Lotus Pier for your sake, I searched the Middle Kingdom up and down for you for months, and when anyone asks, I'm just your sect brother?! You can rope me into your pranks just fine, but when you actually need help I'm just your shidi?! Wei Ying! Screw you!"

Wei Wuxian gawked dumbly up at him, arching and slithering and convulsing with the sudden attack, clearly not even possessing the presence of mind to actually get away. What's that shocked face for? Did you think I'd pull Zidian on you for hearing what I've been waiting years for? Stupid man!

"You think I can't tell you're going through your own crap and you don't tell anyone? Think you can just go around putting on a smile and I won't see there's anything wrong?" The mere idea had him full-out snarling, channeling each emotion (all the frustration, the love, the exasperation, the sadness) into targeting as many spots as he could reach like that would zap some sense into his brother. "I've known you for fourteen years! What do you take me for, a rock?! What do you take A-Jie for?! You don't think she might want to do more for you than feeding you soup?!" Eyes hardened into a glare bore into Wei Wuxian's while vengeful hands scratched into his underarms. "I'm telling you now, you blind idiot! Get your head out of your ass and quit acting like some forlorn hero doomed to suffer by himself because no one gives enough of a damn about him to want to know what's going on!"

When Wanyin re-opened his eyes post-rant, it was to be greeted by a beet red face and glistening eyes, so many emotions shining through them Jiang Wanyin couldn't even begin to figure them all out. Sentimental gazes locked for a too short yet too long moment, before Wei Wuxian turned tail. "SHIHIHIHIJIHIHIE!" A pleading squeal rung in their ears as Wanyin clawed into a particularly sensitive spot. "HEHEHEHEHELP!"

Jiang Yanli, who had sat silently off to the side, an array of bittersweet feelings visibly passing through her, had her lips curl into a smile that held so much love Wei Wuxian could almost feel it in the air. The woman looked off to the right, to the left, then blinked innocently at him. "Who's your shijie?"

Wanyin had the absolute pleasure of watching realization dawn on him like a sack of bricks. Fucking finally. He committed that gobsmacked look to memory.

"JIHIHIHIE! JIHIHIHIHIE, PLEHEHEHEASE!" Wei Wuxian forced out through sheer giddy desperation, cheeks redder than the ribbon in his now tousled hair. (Jiang Wanyin's was far worse in comparison, but he wasn't going to dwell into that.)

With that cue, quick as lighting, betrayal struck onto Jiang Wanyin in the form of arms wrapped him from behind. "Jihihie!" Wanyin arched uselessly from the wriggling digits latched onto his sides, the firm grip on his torso guaranteeing the hands wouldn't be dislodged even as he squirmed. "Yohohou hehehelp him buhuhut nohot mehehehehe?!"

The man gripped tightly onto the remains of his drive to keep Wei Wuxian subdued and laughing beneath him, switching erratically between spots to keep his brother down and following after him as he writhed. Wanyin's movements grew sloppy as he went through a similar treatment, but the youngest wouldn't let that stop him. Especially with the certainty that as soon as Wanyin let up, it would be him in his place.

"I am helping you!" Jiang Yanli's amused giggles joined their symphony of playfulness. Wanyin could almost hear her mischievous smile over the shriek derived from the surprise raspberry tingling at the center of his spine. "You still have the rest of your gifts!"

Light fingers with years of expertise jumped angles and techniques from one brief moment to the next. Swiping here, fluttering there, squeezing at far too many places and when Yanli resorted to the newfound knowledge she falsely said she wouldn't abuse, the self-control of the proud leader of Yunmeng Jiang broke. Nails ghosting over his calves sent flying his hold over himself and he toppled over, squeezing hard onto wherever his hands landed on Wei Wuxian to steady himself and with a panicked squeal the older man trashed so violently he fell off the dock.

The startled sound in Wanyin's throat hadn't even come out when he scrambled to turn around on his knees to hide his worst spot out of his sister's reach. A flash of her face, then something clasping onto his ankles and dragging him into the lake like a demon.

Feminine laughs resonated through the heart of Lotus Pier, accompanied by no less joyful snickers and shouts as the Two Prides of Yunmeng wrestled in the shallow water, aiming playful hands anywhere they could reach and bickering back and forth like teenagers. "The hell was that for?!" "I fell in because of you! My socks are soaked, Jiang Cheng! This is payback!" "You attack your Sect Leader and you want payback?! I'll show you payback!"

It was maybe an incense stick's time before the eldest coaxed her brothers into climbing back onto the pier, with each man digging into the other's exposed underarms each time they tried, which set them off into yet another round of bickering which progressed into a full-blown attack. Jiang Yanli couldn't bring herself to even feel exasperated. Let her brothers let loose where there'd be no repercussions, let them live out so many years of their adolescence they lost to war.

She worried. Sometimes daring to assume she worried more than her parents did, while they were still of sound mind.

Yanli was under no impression her brothers couldn't care for themselves. They didn't need her as much as they thought, no, but the thought of futurely leaving them to themselves concerned her nearly as much as it thrilled her to soon move into Koi Tower. Not to mention, as Jin-shao-furen she'd find all sorts of new responsibilities on her plate, which meant less time to spend on anything else, including maintaining regular contact with her siblings. If they didn't storm into Koi Tower in a fit of protectiveness if she couldn't make time to answer their letters, that is.

They could look after themselves, that much was true. But she knew, oh, how she knew, just how much they relied on her for much-needed levity.

It warmed her, to see they could still find it amongst themselves.

"Where's everyone else?" Jiang Wanyin gruffly questioned as he sat, pulling out a towel from the qiankun space in his soaked sleeve. (Only an idiotic Jiang cultivator would be caught dead without at least something to dry themselves, given Yunmeng night hunts could easily take them underwater. He didn't know why he was even surprised his brother seemingly didn't have one with him. Go figure! If he thought taking up demonic cultivation made him any less of a Jiang, the idiot can drip water wherever he goes for all Wanyin cares!) "Why has no one come in here while their Sect Leader was being ambushed?"

"Actually, some disciples saw you in, ah- 'a foul mood in the woods.' It's how I found you." The woman quoted what she'd heard with a slightly apologetic quirk of her lips as their brother cackled at Wanyin's not drama, thank you very much. "Word got around and everyone went to work on the other side of the pier. A little extreme, I think."

Jiang Wanyin scowled. "Cowards, all of them! Will they run from a corpse if it looks angry too?!"

Eyes rolling, Wei Wuxian dropped the towel his brother tossed at him in favor of repeatedly poking Wanyin's side. At a safe distance. With the dizi that commanded the dead and took the lives of hundreds. "There you go making that face again. Who the hell so looks angry on their birthday? Stop that!"

"YohOHOU'D-" Poke. "You'd uhUHUSE-" Poke, poke, poke. "You'd uhuhuhuse yohohohour spihihirihituhuhual tool lihihike this?!"

"What better way for Chenqing to meet her shushu?" Ruthless, grinning Yiling Laozu looked back at their sister like Jiang Wanyin's weakened attempts of grabbing his wrist as he kept poking weren't even worth considering. Wanyin wasn't about to grab the dizi itself out of its cultivator hold as if he had no respect for the spiritual weapon, like certain people. "Sh- Jiejie, how many left?"

Jiang Yanli held out her fingers into a number where Wanyin couldn't see– A-Jie, A-Jie, how can you leave your brother in this suspense?– and no sooner than he was about to voice his protests, the woman gasped. "Oh!" Flashing him a lively grin, she reached for his face. "I want to try something! A-Cheng, does that tickle at all?" A giggle muffled by Wanyin's stubbornly pursed lips as a gentle finger traced the spot behind his ear let them all know that, yes, it did tickle. Jiang Yanli looked utterly fascinated at the discovery. "I helped Luo-guniang with her hair once and she giggled when I touched her ear, I thought that was just her! I didn't know ears could be ticklish!"

Wanyin didn't know either and his pride would have liked him to remain ignorant.

Though the subtle tickly sensation was mild enough to bear with relative dignity and silence (He was not going to lose his composure to a little tickling on such a ridiculous spot. Stay still, stay calm, stay quiet. If Lan Wangji could do it, why couldn't he?), it turned out to be a lot harder when the demonic cultivator figured he didn't want to be left out.

"Luo-guniang... Luo-gunian- Mianmian?!" Wei Wuxian gaped whilst scratching lightly at the same area behind the other ear. "I wouldn't have thought, with that annoyed face she always has." The man snickered at the shudder that coursed through Wanyin's body at their sister's brief raspberry on the small spot, which he instantly mimicked. "Like you, didi! I think you'd be good friends!"

"Mahahaybe you ohonly ehehever see her annohohoyehed becahause you're around her!"

He saw Wei Wuxian actually pout from the comment. Xianxian is three indeed. Really, his shift to that babyish behavior around A-Jie (Lan Wangji, too- and wasn't that a disgusting thought?) should be studi-"Eheheek!"

Wanyin froze. He should have appreciated that childish pout more. He discovered he much preferred it over what came after.

Slowly, bit by bit, Wei Wuxian's lips curled into a diabolical grin. The finger that accidentally brushed over Wanyin's cheek as he squirmed now tapping his own in mocking contemplation. "Ooohh, what's this now?"

Jiang Wanyin blinked.

No way. There was no way. What was he, ticklishness on two legs?

Jiang Yanli, on the other hand, could not look more delighted and Wanyin dumbly let himself be pulled towards her as arms encircled him, holding him in place. "A-Xian." Mischievousness and affection washed over the woman's face, a combination that Wanyin knew did not bode well for him. "Do you want to see something I used to do when A-Cheng was still a baby?"

Through Wei Wuxian's enthusiastic affirmations, Wanyin felt fingers cradling his chin and gently tilting his head to the side. In that quick moment the action triggered something in him. A switch flipped, and even as he wasn't touched, he found himself fighting a wobbly smile. An instinct that felt strangely innate, like he'd had it his whole life and was only not rediscovering it. Which was unwarranted, because he was not ticklish there, surely. People just weren't ticklish there.

Right? "...Jie?"

"You were too little, you probably don't remember." Jiang Yanli simply kept on grinning, patting his shoulder consolingly at his questioning tone. "But you always loved it when I did it, sometimes it'd be the only thing that would get you to stop crying. Let me know if it rings any bells, okay?"

Her face was brought to his cheek and, oh- Oooh.

The mind might not consciously recall, but the body holds memories still.

"Whahahat the hehehell-" Against his will, Jiang Wanyin somehow, through means beyond his comprehension, felt himself relax. Under gentle nuzzling and butterfly kisses, pink blossomed in his cheek. Squeaks jumped gleefully from his tongue; it was unbecoming, but at that moment, it didn't matter. Overtook by a joyful calm, strange and foreign, which he couldn't bring himself to bristle away from.

Or could, yes. But he didn't want to.

Loved. Safe.

"Ihihit's weheheheheheIHIHIhird-!"

"Poor, poor Zewu-jun. Won't even get to kiss his future husband on the cheek without getting his eardrums pierced!" Yet again Wei Wuxian theatrically brought his hands to his own ears with a sharp laugh as the youngest squealed from the woman's lips blowing against his skin. Just for that comment alone Wanyin shoved his face away before he could even try doing the same. "Don't forget you still have two more! Ready?"

Oh so now he wanted to be considerate?!

"Now yohohou ask if I'm reheheady?" Wanyin realized the incredible feat of grumbling between giggles. Neither of them mentioned how it had absolutely no bite to it. "Gehehet it over wihihith!"

Sneaky glances exchanged, a plan formed without his knowledge, twin raspberries against each cheek and Jiang Wanyin saw stars.

An explosion of sensation. An overload of his senses. Head shaking wildly. Thoughts spinning. Mirthful snickers ringing in his ears. (Was that him?) Loosened hair flying in the wind. Fire on his cheeks. Obnoxious sounds from each side. Fragrances of lotus flowers and freshwater. Home.

So this is what it's like, to forget everything and let go.

Content Conflicted as he was, even the strongest cultivator only had so much stamina. "Fihihine, fihihihine!" He wheezed after his laughter neared on breathless and they just kept going. "Okahahay, enohough!"

With none of the grace and elegance of a renowned young master, Jiang Wanyin let himself collapse to the floor the moment he'd been released. A panting, disheveled, flushed mess of red and purple against hard wood.

Recovering his breath through shut eyes, he felt the two lying on each side of him, close enough he could feel their warmth heating his still damp clothes. Trusting his siblings not to strike again, Wanyin crossed his arms underneath his head, gazing up at the cloudless sky.

All in all, as far as birthday celebrations went, this wasn't the worst.

"A-Cheng." Jiang Yanli's soft hum broke through the lulling sound of lazy waves. Wanyin turned his head to look back at her in question. "How are you feeling?"

Blissful. Cared for. Exhausted.

He huffed a laugh. "Takes more than that to beat me, jie."

Beside him, Wei Wuxian looked far too plotting for someone within tickling distance. "NoteHEHED-!"

"Next year-" Jiang Wanyin's terrifying smirk would have sent shivers down anyone's spine as he retreated the clawed hand he'd used to fake lunge at the man. "You are so dead."

"Your birthday's only a few days from mine, there's gonna be no time for my thirst for revenge to die down. Think of that next year." The Head Disciple very maturely stuck out his tongue, shielding the spot that had almost been attacked.

Jiang Yanli wisely stayed silent, well aware she'd find a way to join in on both events and still walk away mostly un-destroyed. (It could be useful, sometimes, to be thought of as so fragile.)

Comfortable silence had reigned among them, until Wei Wuxian tapped Chenqing against his shoulder.

"Jiang Cheng..." The man trailed off with the same cautious tone he took after slipping up and calling him 'didi.' Wanyin raised him an unimpressed eyebrow. "You really don't mind?"

Nevermind respect. Wanyin was going to grab that dizi and bash his head with it. Even A-Jie huffed in exasperation.

"When have you ever cared about what I think? Don't pretend to start now!" Jiang Wanyin swallowed the sudden bashfulness that arose with a passing thought. Just this once. Just this once to get his idiot brother to finally understand. "....Ge."

Wei Wuxian squealed out in delight. "What?"

"Shut up! And quit with that face! I'm not saying it again!”

༺🪷 Extras🪷༻

Jiang Wanyin: You'd use your spiritual tool like this?!

Wei Wuxian, who's used Suibian for dumb things like cutting watermelons and will in the future do far more unholy things with Bichen: :D

Jiang Wanyin explaining to Lan Wangji how he drew genuine happiness out of WWX in his Yiling Laozu Era: Alright you better fucking take notes, because I am not explaining this again.

Jiang Wanyin: Sect Leader Nie and Jin Guangyao are close and I don't see anyone calling them cut-sleeves!

NMJ and JGY, somewhere, in the middle of passionately making out: Strange, my ear feels warmer all of a sudden.

Jiang Wanyin being wrecked without an ounce of mercy: Please, I can deal with tickling, I'm not a pussy.

Jiang Wanyin minutes later discovering the existence of melt spots: WHAT IS THIS SORCERY???

[ryuryuryuyurboat]

sunsettias n' apples

synopsis: you always hated birthdays. but now? you're not so sure.

genre: fluff (slight comfort)

characters: cyno x gn! reader

warnings: established relationship, reader is referred to in 2nd person

a/n: @thexianzhoujade happy birthday kaikai >:) you thought you got enough gifts? yeah, well, here's another! ilysm big bro mwamwah may today be a good day for you💗 | likes, reblogs and comments highly appreciated!!

©2024 ryuryuryuyurboat. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way, shape or form.

masterlist

oh, how you loathed birthdays. were they special? no, not really. what purpose did celebrating birthdays serve, anyway? weren’t they just… reminders of your age? 

you lay on your bed with your eyes closed— if i don’t open my eyes, the day hasn’t come yet— and an aroma wafted into your nostrils. huh.

you entered the kitchen to the sight of your boyfriend standing in front of the stove, spatula in hand, proudly donning an apron that said ‘kiss the chef’. at the sound of your footsteps, he turned. “good morning! sleep well?”

“not really.” you mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “you’re making breakfast?”

“of course.” cyno replied without missing a beat, setting down a plate of still-sizzling mushroom omelette and steaming tachin in front of you. “c’mon, eat up, we’ve got places to be.”

“???”

the second you cleared your plate, you were immediately shooed into your bedroom to change into clothes, and then forcibly dragged out of your shared house. 

your itinerary that day was packed to the brim, to say the least. cyno took you on a shopping spree at the grand bazaar– anything that remotely appeared to catch your eye was promptly picked up and paid for by your beloved, then took you to watch a dance performance put together by the zubayr theatre troupe, where nilou specially dedicated one of her dances to you, followed by a huge lunch at puspa café, some more sightseeing around sumeru after…

by the time evening came around, you were sitting at the top of a hill just by the outskirts of sumeru city, watching the sun as it began to dip below the horizon. saying you felt exhausted would be a bold understatement, what with everyone who came forth to wish you ‘happy birthday’ and all the walking you did throughout the day. 

the grass rustled as your lover moved to sit next to you. “hey,” he offers you a sunsettia, “y’know, it’s a good time to eat this.”

“why?”

“because it’s sunset. get it? sunsettias and sunset?”

“babe…”

as you watched dusk fall over the world, for the first time in a very, very long time, your heart felt at peace. when was the last time you’d had a good birthday?

an apple blocks your vision of the sun. “almost forgot to say something.” 

“mhm?”

“you’re the apple of my eye, y/n.” 

“cyno!!”

“c’mon, let’s go home. everyone’s waiting for us, and i can’t wait for you to see the tcg deck i made specially for you.”

“there’s… wait, who’s ‘everyone’??”“you’ll see when we get back.” cyno stands, dusting off his clothes, “it’s your birthday, after all. you couldn’t possibly have thought a date sufficed, right?”

taglist: @xianyoon @lynyluvr @kazemiya @meidnightrain @dailypenpen (send ask to be added to taglist!)

if you liked this, do consider dropping me a follow for more :>

[ptergwen]

that’s my boy

w/c: 0.8k

warnings: just the floofiest fluff

summary: you give peter the perfect start to his special day

a/n: no wayyyy it’s peter day y’all ! i can’t believe my favorite person literally ever is going another year around the sun like i’m kinda emosh about it? we’re still out here tho let’s turn it up in his honor <3 teehee i hope you enjoy my loves

-

you skip up the stairs to peter’s building with a goofy grin on your face, quickly finding your way inside. you’re hardly able to contain your excitement as you begin the ascent to his floor.

you’ll make sure today is everything peter could wish for and more, if it’s the last thing you do.

you’d coordinated with may to prepare the apartment for one of her annual birthday bashes while you take peter for breakfast and explore the city. it’s going to be perfect. you and peter will get some one-on-one time together, then you’ll come home and celebrate with all your friends.

after a few knocks at peter’s apartment door, may answers. she has a smile that matches yours and a box of streamers tucked under her arm.

“is he still asleep?” you question, peering down the hall to where peter’s bedroom is. may snorts and closes the door once you’re in. “hard to tell. you know him.” laughing yourself, you kick your sneakers off on the welcome mat. “he’s either been up for hours or out cold. no in between.”

“that’s our boy,” may agrees, your heart warming at that. she’s definitely responsible for shaping her nephew into the lovely soul he is. “why don’t you go in and wake him, huh? he’d rather you than me.”

you click your tongue and push up one of the backpack straps on your shoulder. “oh, that’s not true. we should do it together!” may pats your arm, her tender way of shooing you off. “no, no. i’ll let you kids have your moment. besides, i’ve got my work cut out for me.”

she gestures to a large pile of miscellaneous party gear covering the kitchen table. she’s sure as hell committed.

“well, good luck with that. i’m gonna go check on the birthday boy, then.” you beam at may, earning two thumbs up from her before you sneak over to peter’s room.

walking on tiptoes, you slowly open up his door to reveal your very own sleeping beauty. peter is buried underneath his blankets, on his stomach and hugging his pillow during his visit to dreamland.

there’s a sight to cherish.

you slide your backpack, which is carrying his gifts, off your shoulders and quietly shut the door behind you. your feet lead you straight to your boyfriend’s cozy bed.

“pete, hey,” you whisper and set a gentle hand on his back. “time to get up, babes. we’ve got stuff to do.” peter groans, shoving his face further into his pillow. “mm, sorry. peter can’t come to the phone right now,” he mumbles, you giggling when he swats your hand away. instead, your touch trails to his mop of curls.

you play along. “why not?” your fingers stroke through his messy hair, the sensation having peter practically purring. he turns his head so his cheek is smushed against the pillow and he’s looking at you. “‘cuz he’s sleeping. he says you’re welcome to join him, though.” a lazy smile paints his parted lips.

you’re not passing up a chance to snuggle him, especially not on his day. you have a bit until your reservations, anyway.

“i’ll bite. scoot over, bug boy.” you tug on his locks for emphasis. “you mean arachnid?” peter corrects, now smirking. “someone’s a bit cheeky today, aren’t they?” you rhetorically ask and nudge his side to move over. peter obliges this time.

he leaves a warm spot for you, pulling you in and under the covers by your waist. not expecting this, you squeal as you land on the mattress.

“i’m allowed to be,” peter insists and hides his face in the crook of your neck, where he peppers sloppy kisses that tickle your skin. “you know why?” he gazes up at you. you wind your arms around his own neck with a grin so wide your cheeks hurt. “because it’s your birthday.”

peter brushes the tip of his nose against yours, pecking your lips softly. “ding, ding, ding,” he sings. “happy birthday, peter benjamin parker. my hero, love of my life.” you capture his lips again in a longer kiss, peter chuckling into it. he lets out a content sigh.

“thank you, baby. love you forever,” peter rasps with his morning voice you adore so much. “and… always,” you finish for him. “times infinity,” he adds, giving you a short and final kiss. your legs wrap around his waist, both of your heads resting on his pillow.

his eyes hooded, peter runs his fingertips up and down your spine soothingly. “so, what stuff did we have to do? what’s on the agenda?” you situate your hands in the curls at the nape of his neck, humming. “just wait and see. you’re in for a real treat, peter.” he yawns and decides to lay his head on your chest. “mhm… can’t wait, y/n.”

“go back to sleep,” you lightheartedly command. “gladly. it’s too early for this,” peter grumbles. that was easy. “wake me in ten… hours.”

he secures his arms tighter around your middle, you laughing to yourself while he drifts off to you toying with his hair.

the perfect birthday has officially commenced.

[sopxhiea]

Lush

Alfie Solomons X Reader

Summary: The ropes are tied on both ends after their last meeting and the infamous wild girl keeps tugging at them, until a sliver of vulnerability seeps through and Alfie sees her for who she is.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

“Am I in trouble?”

“You play so hard to get...Will I ever catch you?”

The marble walls are cold. It’s sometime in december, hard to tell since the days seem to be morphing into each other as the clock ticks. The sun no longer shows, and it’s faint when it does. One sound from the large clock on the hallway and it’s the end of the week, the passing of time seems to escape the months.

Although no one seems to care as they dance through the night.

It was put somewhere in the calendar by Annabelle, and you vaguely remember the fading lines of your uncle’s smile as he told you he’d be getting married soon. It was hard to care, even harder to remember why you were standing there, in the corner of the lavish room while the music boomed through the fancy building.

There were many things to be said, but you’d keep them to yourself for the day.

The bride was a sham, you could tell from the way she didn’t even smile at your uncle. He was somewhat of a rich guy, although you hadn’t experienced any of the said money since he happened to be greedy guy who just wouldn’t share what he reclaimed to be his.

Much to your luck, you had no interest in his money or any of his property but the new bride couldn’t disagree more. Annabelle had sent you off an hour before the event started and it was school policy to get in before midnight but you never did, even when it wasn’t someone’s wedding and just a tuesday night.

She’s not supposed to tell anyone of your whereabouts but a little green bill and Annabelle turns into a song bird.

You smile at the guests as they dance, hand in hand as the slow song fills the air. It’s rather strange seeing you like this, some think. You’re usually the source of trouble, the one causing the mess and not the quiet girl you’ve been since the wedding started but you figure you owe your uncle that even though he had forcefully sent you to a boarding school and didn’t send you anything on your birthday.

You don’t hold grudges, you say to yourself.

With the strange passage of time, sometimes you can’t quite pinpoint where the reality starts and the dreams end but you know he’s real. The way he tries to play your little game, where most of the men either failed or simply gave up. He’s been holding up his end, you conclude, after almost a month of spontaneous visits.

Alfie, is his name.

You don’t call him that, although he insists but you enjoy the way his scruff covered face reddens way too much to do things the proper way. You hadn’t even kissed him yet, but he still came back for more. He was easily riled up by you and hated Annabelle and sou you figured, you wouldn’t drop this one.

It was easy, to get tired of men and it happened almost naturally for you. The first stages were far more than exciting, when you didn’t know anything about the bloke’s life or boring job he had but soon after that, reality would set in and you’d realise that the bloke you had your hands on was just another boring rich boy who was too good for you in his family’s eyes.

But not him, Alfie had proved to be quite the opposite.

There was blood on his hands and a weight that came with it, it was evident in the way he walked and spoke, he didn’t just do things out of spite like the young lads did. You didn’t even know how old he was, only that he was close to being twice your age as Ollie had told you one time without giving away too much but that didn’t bother you.

It bothered Annabelle, though. You could see it in her eyes.

Being the infamous wild lady had its perks and one of them was the way you had access to direct information on the town’s social climate. Sometimes it was a bitter, snotty girl telling you her best friend had gotten married to a bloke from Birmingham or the drunk lad you were dancing in the club speaking to you about the new club that was opening soon. It came in many forms but the most important part was that it was the voice of the youth around.

Apparently, Alfie’s gangster nature and piercing eyes had made him an attraction of sorts for the younger ladies. No one would say it except some of the girls you knew who worked in the brothel he had visited many times before. There was a line, the girl had told you under the dim light of the entrance, a line made of posh girls who wanted Alfie to fuck their brains out for the thrill of it.

It had almost made you smile.

You didn’t look down on any of the girls for the thoughts they were having, if anything you agreed but Alfie wasn’t just a bloke who lived around the corner from their posh apartments, you knew. He was in a dangerous line of business and very capable of snapping your neck in two if he wished to. It was thrilling, you would give the girls that, but he would need a lot of warming up to be the consistency you wanted him to be.

And that had been in the works, for the past month.

He was the one who came around, the one to seek you out and that put you in the higher hand when compared to him. You could say no, you wouldn’t but you could and Annabelle would just have to shoo him away with a regretful smile. There were a dozen girls worth half the trouble you were causing him but he liked the trouble, he had signed up for it when he brought you home the first night.

He and you had talked, answering all the questions this time but with a couple white lies here and there. You’d told him about your greedy uncle and about the paintings and he told you about his past and how he came to be the person he was. You’d lied to him when he’d asked you about the number of the guys you’d fucked and you’d amplified and multiplied it. He had just nodded and raised his eyebrows.

He’d lied,too, but you’d caught it.

He lied about before the war and the lost love he had but you saw it in his eyes. He lied about his family when you asked and also about what he did, at least some of the lines of business he was involved in but you didn’t push. He hadn’t shot you after pressing all his buttons and you didn’t have a death wish before solving the puzzle of Alfie Solomons.

You soon find yourself leaning against the exterior wall of the building, on the outside towards the street where there’s no one but you and a couple people walking by. The air is cold but you don’t seem to mind it after borrowing the bride’s fur coat, which she had no idea about as she danced inside. You’d return it when you went back inside but it felt warm against your skin and the material was pleasant.

Alfie thought you looked fucking beautiful.

Annabelle wasn’t supposed to give information about your whereabouts but all he had to was to shoot her an annoyed look and she would tremble under his piercing gaze. Her uncle’s wedding, she had said, she wasn’t so happy about it since the bride is just a little older than she is but she’s gone. Alfie had listened and furrowed his eyebrows before shouting at Ollie to drive to where the wedding was taking place.

And there you were, with rosy cheeks leaning against the cold wall of the building.

He didn’t know why he was there, he didn’t ask himself since he was afraid of the answer. He had felt something similar before, not quite the same but he recalled the pretty lass who’d managed to make his chest feel too tight for his heart.

He wouldn’t say it though, not to himself or anyone else.

He cleared his throat while you kept staring at your shoes. They were new, bought just of the occasion but they were damn uncomfortable so before he could utter a word. he saw you lean down and take the kitten heels off of your feet and step on the cold pavement of the ground. He chuckled in surprise which made you look up, he wondered where all of the hours of etiquette class had gone but he wasn’t complaining.

“Mr. Solomons.” you spoke in a breathy voice, a little less chirpy or seductive compared to usual and he saw it in your eyes too but you were far too quick to cover it all up before he could comment on it.

“‘ello, lass.” he spoke in his usual gruff voice and watched your pretty features scrunch up and stare up at him.

“It seems as though you always end up finding me.” you spoke, genuine suspicion in your voice and you continued with a smirk Alfie knew well. He was glad he had told Ollie to stay put in the car and was the only one to see you beaming up at him. “Are you having me followed?” you chuckled at the end of your sentence and he smiled at your words. 

He wasn’t, not intentionally anyway.

If he had been, you would’ve noticed. You snuck out nearly every night from the school and almost never got caught. Annabelle would hear things the next day if she was lucky but you knew the way the city worked, if someone had followed you, you would know.

“What brings you to this hellhole, then?” you spat out and saw the discontent in his eyes before he covered it up. 

He was almost as good as you in this game, almost.

“Just lookin’ to see the lass.” he spoke, eyes boring into yours as you stood in front of him, looking up since the man was twice as tall as you.

“Hm.” you nodded, looking at the familiar black car and then him. You knew Ollie was in there watching you and Alfie never just came to see you and leave, he was going to take you someplace like he usually did.

“’t’s not fuckin’ fun in there?” he spoke, signalling the large doors that opened up to where the wedding was taking place.

You smiled first and chuckled while you did so, it wasn’t the usual one but he’d take it. Looking at him through fluttered eyelashes, you spoke in a sweet voice that made him stay up all night dreaming of you.

“It’s not my cup of tea, Mr. Solomons.” you said in a breathy voice and he watched, just looked at you for a while.

“Ya’ wanna get out of ‘ere, lass?” he said, meeting your doubtful eyes which were often filled with nothing but trouble and he found that somewhere in there too but it wasn’t as obvious as the last time he’d seen you.

“Am I in trouble?” you spoke through a wicked smile, one Alfie knew well. Maybe too well for his own good, he thought.

“No, lass..” he spoke with a low grin, you could see the amusement seeping off of him. “You, yeah, are the fuckin’ trouble if ya’ ask me.” he spoke through his teeth and earned a wide smirk from you.

You were that, and both of you knew it.

“Well..”you spoke, clutching tighter to your new aunt’s coat as Alfie watched you through glassy eyes. “It’s a shame I didn’t ask.” you said with a lighter tone and it caused Alfie to chuckle loudly, which only made the corners of your lips twitch up in reaction.

You played the game too well.

“Where are you planning on taking me this time?” you spoke in a sweet voice, he saw you regain your usual attitude slowly after the laugh and he was glad it was coming back. He needed it to come back, even if he wasn’t able to admit that to himself yet.

He just shot you a smile and walked away after that, towards the big car where Ollie had been waiting for a while. You followed him, no questions asked or no feeling of fear in the pit of your stomach.

It took two to play this game and you had the upper hand, you always did.

----

It came as a shock to him.

The yards of soil coated in grass were now getting ready for the sunset. There were a few animals here and there, a horse and a group of cows that were nowhere near where Alfie was standing or the sign he’d told you to shoot. Ollie was left in the factory, Alfie had driven you all the way to the suburbs on his own and you felt like that wasn’t very boss-like but it didn’t matter.

“I know how to shoot.”

Your words echoed in his mind for a second.

You were half his age and size, he was sure you had been home-schooled or whatever the rich kids did. The posh people Alfie knew didn’t let their daughters within a one-mile radius of someone who had the possibility of carrying a gun let alone actually teach them.

“You fuckin’ what?” he spoke, a look of surprise coming over him which only made you smile at his expression in return.

Of course you knew how to shoot.

You were an expert at sneaking out and making trouble but that came at a price. Men liked to look at how pretty you looked while you danced but some wanted to touch as well, that’s when self defence became a priority. You could punch them or kick them in the nuts but some were strong so a pistol worked, or the small knife attached to your bra but you wouldn’t tell Alfie that.

“You really need to get your ears checked.” you said, visibly annoyed since he had done the same exact thing the last time he’d seen you. He scoffed at first and then walked over to you, slowly and you just watched.

You didn’t know who was the lion and who was the prey anymore. Not when you had a knife strapped to your bra and a gun in your hands.

“Where the fuck did ya’ learn how to shoot? A lass your age?” he said and you realised he was talking to himself and not you. You let him mumble away for a few seconds before stepping up and speaking. 

“Well, It seems as though I’m old enough for you to come looking for me every damn week so I assume I’m not too young....” you said, still pissed at his comments about your age. He had no problem fucking you with his eyes but brought it up when it had to do with a gun. “...and I learned on my own. For protection.”

He looked at you, from head to toe and nodded as his hands ran through his beard. The sun was slowly setting and the speckles of light caught his skin and beard, illuminating him in a way that you’d only seen in renaissance paintings before. You gulped but composed yourself quickly, you could show no weakness.

“I ain’t comin’ to look for ya’ every fuckin’ week.” he said and you smiled. Out of all the things you had said, he got stuck on the one thing.

“Why is Annabelle giving me so much trouble about your unannounced visits then?” you said, in a heartbeat and he smiled at you, just smiled for a solid second before turning away. You were quick to answer your question since you had found out that Alfie wasn’t a fan of doing that.

“Either she wants to fuck you or is genuinely annoyed.” you spat and he turned in one swift motion, facing you again with the ghost of a smirk you’d seen earlier.

“Eh?” he made a sound of encouragement mixed with confusion. Alfie was used to you being so forward but every now and then, it still caught him off guard.

You nodded as a way to confirm the first assumption and spoke again, you were walking next to him as he slowly moved towards the target he had told you to shoot. You looked too comfortable with a gun in your hand, he thought as he watched your lips move.

“You tell me which one, although I have a pretty good idea.” you spoke through a fit of giggles and he watched your features change under the afternoon light.

He was utterly fucked.

“Ain’t she a fuckin’ old maid?” he voiced his opinion and earned a sweet smile from you. You nodded again, a bit quicker this time and fought a fiddle of giggles before speaking.

“She is.” you licked your lips and spoke as Alfie stared at you under the setting sun. 

Your hair was all over the place, cheeks red due to the cold weather and he wanted to kiss your nose, warm you up but the game was still on so he composed himself, settled for the inappropriate dreams he’d been having for the past month since you’d been in his house.

“She’s about your age, I think.” you spat out without looking at him and he made a hurt noise, his way of saying that he was offended but the shocked face turned into a small smirk as he spoke, hand tugging at his beard like it usually was and for a moment, your eyes got stuck on his golden rings.

“I ain’t as old as you fuckin’ think I am, lass.” he spoke and you smiled at him. You knew he was significantly older but neither of you had voiced it before but you didn’t think it mattered. He could be as old as he wanted but he’d still be the only person who was able to keep up with you.

“And I’m not as young as you think I am, Mr. Solomons.” you spoke under your breath, eyes at your shoes as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. He wasn’t dangerously close but the warmth of his skin spread through yours.

He waited for a moment, looked at the delicate features of your face as you offered him a gentle smile, contrasting the cold air around. He knew you were older, you just looked younger and it didn’t bother him. If anything, he figured it was perfect since he appeared to be older than he was. 

The game was fun, he would admit. Like a breath of fresh air in the dull life he seemed to lead, although you would speak to differ since every act that came from the man was everything but boring. You licked your lips, ready to answer any question thrown your way with a bit of sass you carried around with you. He couldn’t figure you out for the life of him, it drove him mad to think about you yet it seemed to be all he was capable of doing those days.

“Ya’ play so hard to get...Will I ever catch ya’?” he sounded confused, convinced that it would never happen somehow but you would slow down at some point, he just didn’t know it.

Men liked chasing girls dressed in pretty lace and with bright, beaming eyes. You were that girl, had been chased by many but you’d never found it in yourself to stop and look back, none were interesting enough to do that. They wanted superficial things, a fuck or a dance or maybe the thrill of being with a girl every cockney banged on about but there was nothing real in those kind of relationships.

But you figured, since Alfie was proving to be nothing like those men, you’d slow down just a little.

Not now though, but sometime in the future.

“Maybe If your sciatica gets better, you might have a decent shot at it, Mr. Solomons.” you spoke through a beaming smile and the words and the redness on your nose caused Alfie to laugh. He still wanted to kiss you, he realised.

“‘s Alfie, luv.” he reminded for the countless time, but he knew it was useless. He liked the way you said it anyway, much better than anyone he’s heard.

“Sure it is.” you spoke through a half-hearted giggle and started walking towards the car.

He had brought you here to teach you how to shoot but you knew how to do it already, he felt an ease in his gut knowing that. Men around London were dangerous and although he’d speak to differ that you were more lethal than any man he’d seen, a woman could never be too careful. He knew.

He watched you get in the car without the usual help from Ollie, realised something along the way. If he were honest with himself, he had realised it some time ago but he wouldn’t admit to it, took all the fun in his eyes. He smiled at you before looking at the sunset one last time.

The thrill of this would pass but Alfie was sure it would leave a sweet aftertaste. The days were short now, the time washed over the clock like an unexpected tidal wave from a once calm sea. There was a siren calling out to him, enticing him with her words each time she spoke but the siren had no intention of killing him in a cruel way. She was too soft for that, although many saw her as a killer trap.

The siren was you, and you were so beautiful under the sunset as you waved at him from the car.

I might die, he thought. I might die and it would be because of her, he said to himself as he looked at your smile. He soon concluded that he didn’t mind that at all. He would prefer it to the slow bleeding of a knife wound or the quick and efficient house of a bullet in between his blue orbs.

That was how it started, with the handsome sailor ignoring all the warnings.

The amateurs didn’t see the warnings before the siren engulfed them, ate them whole and left no trace. The beginners would be fooled quickly but no, Alfie wasn’t new to this. He knew that the captains went to the sirens on purpose, not because they were fooled but because the siren was a new source of hope in a different world.

And the times had changed.

“Silly girl.” Alfie mumbled to himself after getting into the car. You were sitting quietly next to him, in an unusual manner where you were almost sulking.

You realised, once you sat in the car and gazed out the window to see the now fading orange sky, that until that very point it had always been Alfie who would seek you out. He’d mostly paid you unannounced visits at the school but sometimes, he’d catch you during your weekly shopping trips or even the library. Never during the nights when you’d sneak out to go dancing in the pubs.

Although he knew all about it, you knew the faces of his men by this point. The man who’d follow you in and out of school.

So you decided that it was time for a simple yet revolting change. You’d invite him out this time, in a less more proper manner than he had.

You had it all planned out and he had no idea. You let him drive you to the school, commenting on how boring his old man stories were and he just chuckled and mumbled something under his breath. You let him drop you off, a gentle kiss on your cheek and the cold feel of his rings against your hand as he whispered in your ear, “I’ll see you soon, luv.”. You waved at him as he left.

He had no idea of the hurricane that was about to hit him.

So you got ready, lace all over your body in a sheer dress. You wore your favourite kitten heels and just a simple lip just how Alfie liked it. It was time for a little play, something to tip his interest further. It wasn’t like you’d lost it but men were very easily distracted. So you’d created a masterplan to remedy the problem you thought you had. Your hair was let down, tickling your shoulders as you swayed your hips in the fur coat that had belonged to the new bride in your family but the wedding was long forgotten. 

You wouldn’t fuck him, you didn’t think.

Or maybe you would, you said to yourself as you approached his large house. The nerves were near but so was he and you had no intentions of fucking this up. He was an interesting one, one worth keeping and you would make sure of it.

Nine pm. The air cold around your shoulders as a smile graced your lips. You were supposed to be in the tea room, blocks away from where you were standing in front of a stranger’s door.

Well, not so much of a stranger anymore.

One knock, and then another.

His voice filled the other side of the door, a smile graced your lips and you braced yourself for the night, for the look of surprise that would surely be cast on his handsome features.

One inhale, one genuine smile and the swift motion of the door opening.

There he was, your handsome stranger.

And you’d kiss him that night.

-----

Tagging: @clairecrive  @parkbearum @sourirez  @vetseras​ @mollybegger-blog @babylooneytoonz @peakascum @fuseburner​ @r-rose08​ @innerpaperexpertcloud 

a/n: They will kiss soon and do more stuff :) so stay tuned pls and lemme know if you liked the chapter!! This somehow ended up being a slow-burn type of thing but oh well :)

and happy new year, dear ones! I hope it’s a good year for all!

[theonlinemuse]

In the comics, Rick had more relatives (like his cousin Rebecca) and he probably would've been a big brother had his parents lived. Since we like to joke that he’s the ultimate big brother to the JSA, me and @freckledpianoman decided to make him a big brother in an AU where Wendi and Rex live: 

His little sister’s named Rebecca, but Rick calls her Bex for short. He only calls her Rebecca if she’s annoying him and full names her (“Rebecca Gwendoline Tyler!”) when she’s in trouble. She’s seven and Rick often wonders if he has a little sister or a little monkey with how she’s forever getting into places she shouldn’t be in 

“How did you even get in my room, I locked it from the inside.” “What, like it’s hard?” 

She also likes perching on his shoulders because she likes seeing everything and feeling as tall as her brother 

Rick didn’t know it at first, but Bex knew Beth first. Beth works in the children’s library on Saturdays where she does read alouds for kids and Bex is always talking about the smart girl who reads all sorts of fun stories to her. Bex often requests for Beth to do certain voices and accents and thinks that the voice that Beth does for grumpy characters makes her sound like her brother 

He’s wondering who his sister befriended because this Beth person seems too good to be true. One day he’s running late to pick Bex up because he had engine problems and when he gets there, he sees his little sister being read to while she's sitting in the lap of a pretty girl 

Bex sees him turning red and she tugs at his sleeve and goes, “Rick, don't embarrass me, she’s really nice” 

Rick and Bex have a very petty rivalry over getting Beth’s attention

“Stop trying to steal my friend, Rick! I had her first!” “Kids, behave.” Wendi has to give them a look so that Beth doesn’t think they're heathens

Bex notices the look that her brother has every time he talks with Beth and she’s this close to giving him a shovel talk 

“Stop trying to steal Beth!” “We go to the same school, I’d see her anyway!” “What, no fair! Do you have lunch with her? Does she share her brownies with you?” “Hmm, maybe she does, I guess you'll never know.” 

And Bex chases after him while he laughs 

Wendi ends up with a surprise pregnancy in her mid-forties a few months before Rick's sixteenth birthday. He’s torn between “you’re already old, stop having children” and being anxious over her pregnancy. He glares at Rex and goes, “this is what happens when you don’t keep your hands to yourself”. Rex is sitting there like “shouldn’t I be the one lecturing you on keeping your hands to yourself?” “Don’t distract me, old man, you’re supposed to be the responsible one.”

Everyone argues over baby names, but they eventually settle on Rowan. Her middle name is Elizabeth and yes, she was named for Beth. It was Rick and Bex’s idea since they were allowed to pick a middle name

Beth thought that she heard wrong at first, but she sees Rick smile softly and nod and it’s all happy tears for her. Later Beth buries her face in his chest and scolds him for making her cry 

“You named a baby after me, how else am I supposed to react?”

It doesn’t help that Rowan’s first word is “Beff” 

Rex taught his kids how to use the hourglass in case of emergencies. Rick has used the hourglass before for training. Bex got banned from using the hourglass because she somehow lifted up a corner of the house because she was trying to get her baseball back 

“How?!” “Artemis taught me how to lift with my knees.” 

Rick’s usually very responsible with the hourglass save for a couple of times when he impulsively stole it for “missions”, aka helping Beth or Bex. The third time was when he set the hourglass down while Rowan was using the coffee table to pull herself up and she ended up using it to lift the couch to get her pacifier from under it

“Dad, I think I broke Rowan!” 

Beth often finds Rick asleep on the couch with Rowan napping on his chest. It’s as adorable as it sounds and she takes pics for the group chat. And sometimes she catches him singing softly to Rowan. Bex says that he did the same when she was little and they joke about Rick being the ultimate big brother to the JSA and to Bex and Rowan 

There have been times where Rick and Bex will come out of their rooms to find Beth helping Rex with chemistry stuff, having completely forgotten they were supposed to be hanging out. While Rick’s glad that Beth gets a chance to discuss things with another chemistry nerd (even if it is his dad), the Tyler siblings are still put out by it. It was bad enough that Wendi asked her to pose for her newest painting, but now they have to worry about their dad stealing Beth 

They have to sneak Beth into the house so Rex can’t grab her on her way in, Bex clinging to Beth while Rick guides her in with his hand on her back 

But Rick sees how much fun Beth has posing for Wendi’s paintings and he’s just happy that Beth’s happy 

Beth and Rick share custody of Hootie and after Rowan was born, Rick does not want that ‘damn feral bird’ anywhere near his baby sister, but Hootie acts like a guard owl for Rowan. He tried shooing Hootie away from her crib, but he ends up getting his head pecked while Hootie lands in the crib, nuzzling Rowan's hair much to Rick's horror. He thinks she'll get rabies

Beth scolds Rick when she hears about it from Bex. “Your mom already had Rowan get her shots and Hootie’s up to date on all of his. They’ll be fine.” And Rick comes home one day to find Hootie perched on Wendi’s shoulder while she holds Rowan 

“Mom. There is an owl on your shoulder, why aren't you freaking out?” “He never does anything, he’s just curious about her.” “He’s a wild bird, not a dog.” “He’s basically a dog, Bex plays fetch with him.”

“Of course she does. Trust Beth to rescue a bird just as weird as her.” “Please, you love her weirdness.” 

There’s a babysitting episode where Rick has to babysit his sisters because Wendi and Rex have date night and Rex goes, "do not call us, Rick, I just want a night out with your mother and if you even think about sending a text, I’ll call Beth and tell her how you feel about her. Do not test me, son.” Rick thinks his dad is seriously pent up but as the car pulls out of the driveway, Rick gets a text from Rex that says “you should invite Beth over for some company while you watch your sisters”

Rick is more than a little disturbed that his dad of all people is playing matchmaker

Bex perks up when she hears that Beth might be coming over and she climbs over Rick to try and get to his phone so that she can call Beth. “Bex, stop that, I’ll call her.” “But you take too long, Riri.” It’s a wonder that Beth is able to hear him over Bex constantly interjecting and saying that she wants to talk with her

Beth offers to help out with dinner, but Rick keeps shooing her out of the kitchen, saying that she should relax and hang out with the girls. “But cooking is relaxing for me.” “Go watch a stupid sitcom or something, I’ll be done in a minute.”

They take turns feeding Rowan while she's in her high chair, she’s a very messy eater and Rick always gets food on him whenever he feeds her. But it doesn't stop Rowan from trying to put her hands all over her brother's face. She thinks the faces he makes are funny and Bex just eggs her on 

It's times like this where Rick is glad that Beth is here because as much as he loves his sisters, they can be a handful. “Bex, stop encouraging this.” “Aim for his eyes next time, Rowan.” “No!” He sees Rowan pouting and he has to go into stern big brother mode. “We do not poke people's eyes, young lady.”

Beth thinks it's funny when Rick gets all stern with the girls and she starts calling him “old man”. He's so affronted by it and you know he's gonna get back at her for it once the girls are put to bed. Beth knows it too and she tries to escape, but it ends up with Rick chasing her all over the house before he finally tackles her onto the couch

“Get off me, you might break your hip.” “Sorry, I think my hip is acting up. You’re stuck here now.” “You’re a jerk." “It’s fair game, sweetheart.” “Well, you really sound like an old man now.” Rick just pins her down with his hips and goes, “does this feel old to you?” “I dunno Rick, how are you feeling? Any joints out of place?” Rick smirks and the next thing Beth knows, she’s being princess carried. “You tell me.”

Rick just twirls her around just to hear her laugh more and that’s what Wendi and Rex walk in on. Rick almost drops Beth, but she clings onto him before he can. Wendi has a mischievous grin as she asks if Beth and Rick had fun. She wishes she had her phone out to take a pic of how red Rick’s face went. Beth is embarrassed, but Wendi and Rex invite her to stay the night since her parents are away and it’s too late for her to go home

“Listen, I love Beth and I want you to make a move, don't get me wrong, but I am not ready for grandkids.” “Dad, gross, mom already gave me the talk. I haven't even thought about having kids yet.” “Lies, I’ve seen the way you look at Beth whenever she holds Rowan.” “That doesn’t mean I’m imagining having kids with her!” “I’m not stupid, I’ve given that look before.”

Rick is horrified because he did not want to hear that, but it does explain Bex and Rowan. “Bottom line, you and Beth need to be responsible.” “You’re saying all this like there’s even a chance something’ll happen.” “Do I need to point out the way you look at her?” “Dad, please, can you just—stop embarrassing me in front of my friends? I’ve worked too hard to trick Beth into thinking that having me as a friend may actually not be such a bad idea for you to scare her away now.”

“You don't give Beth enough credit. She’s here to stay.”

Once there was a problem with the daycare that Rowan was supposed to be at and Rick had picked her up before lunch and now she’s hanging at the loser table with the JSA. Rick is treated like an exhibit at the zoo because of his baby sister because she’s just babbling happily in his arms and she gets away with pulling his hair

The teachers are just watching Rick come and go to classes with a baby like it’s no big deal and the students just look at him in shock because the delinquent they’ve all been told to avoid is being ordered around by an infant

And now they have a front row seat for Beth and Rick coparenting Rowan. A couple people straight up ask if they're dating because it’s such a domestic sight. Beth is startled and blurts out, “oh no, no, we’re best friends”

Rick is off to the side, quiet but heartbroken. Rowan pats his face to comfort him 

One time when Rick was out of the house and Beth was hanging out with the girls, Bex randomly asks Beth if she likes Rick. “He’s my best friend, of course I like him.” “I meant do you like like him, like how mom and dad do.” “Oh, um—” "Because it’s okay if you do. Rowan and me like you and so do mom and dad.” Beth looks unsure so Bex and Rowan cuddle with her 

Rick comes back to find all of them cuddling and he catches Bex giving Beth a look. He knows something is up because he knows Bex, that's her ‘I did something and I don't want Rick to know’ look. “What did you do?” “Not even a hi, Riri?” “That’s the same look you had when you let a lava cake explode in the oven and tried to hide it from mom.”

“I didn’t do anything! Maybe you’re trying to hide something so you’re deflecting onto me!” “Did Beth teach you what deflecting means?” “She’s been helping me get ready for the spelling bee, duh. And I’m not deflecting.” “Rebecca Gwendoline, what did you do?” “On second thought, I’m going to bed early tonight, byyeee!”

He just looks at Rowan, who’s gnawing on the plush owl that Beth gave her. “You’re not telling me either, are you?” She blows a raspberry at him. “Of course not. Hanging around Beth has made you and Bex too smart for your own good.”

Beth and Rick once looked after the girls for the weekend while Wendi and Rex go on vacation. The guest room is practically already Beth's room so the Tylers tell her she can just stay over, though Rex did expect them to share a bed. He and Wendi have a little bet going on about it. They end up video calling Beth on the first night 

Meanwhile Beth and Rick are snuggled up against each other when Beth glances at her phone and goes “oh crap” and pushes Rick away from her as she answers, but the Tylers can still hear Rick grumbling. Beth keeps glancing towards Rick, who’s just sitting there pouting because precious time is being wasted and he knows the girls will be awake soon. “Beth, honey, are you okay? You’re looking a little distracted.” “Uh—I’m fine! Just making sure the girls aren't already awake.” 

“Rick isn’t giving you trouble, is he?” Beth sneaks a look at a glowering, pouty Rick. “No?” Right after she says that, he starts sneaking his hand up her waist and she lets out a choked gasp. “Beth?” “Okay, he is a little,” she admits before swatting Rick’s hand away

“Is he awake yet? We can tell him to stop being such a demon if you need us to.” “Uh—no! He's asleep. In his room. You know how he gets, low blood pressure demon and all that.” “Oh, you have no idea. Rex says he still has phantom pains where Rick clawed him the last time he tried to wake him up.” 

“You sure we had a kid and not a feral cat?” Rick forgets himself and goes, “I was seven, get over it old man.” Beth drops her phone onto her lap to panic while Rex and Wendi quietly crack up on the other end of the call

They can still hear her admonishing Rick. “Why would you say that, now your parents are gonna be wondering what I’m doing in your room and this is so embarrassing!” 

Beth’s hiding her face in her hands and Rick grabs her phone off her lap and says “uh—we're gonna go, I think I just heard Rowan.” “Rowan won’t be waking up for another hour—” “Bye mom, love you.” 

Rick spends the next little while coaxing Beth to stop hiding. “It’s not that bad, you know my parents love you.” He rests his head on her shoulder and goes, “c’mon, Beth”, but she jerks away and says “no, I’m never living this down” 

“This isn't the first time they’ve caught us in bed together.” “Not helping, Rick!”

He hugs himself against her and feels her relax, but she’s still hiding her face. Then his phone buzzes and he holds his screen up to her to show a text from Wendi saying, “tell Beth we trust her (not you)”. Beth collapses into giggles over the text

“My own parents think I’m some kind of deviant!” “Okay, but is that such a wild assumption to make? I didn’t even say anything that bad!” “Oh? Then did I just imagine you calling me trouble, sweetheart?”

[dear-mrs-otome]

Johann Faust - 1st Birthday (His POV) - Another Terrible Summary

(Faust: ”Do you want to comfort me?”)

Here is my irreverent, only nominally-guaranteed accurate rendition of Faust’s birthday story in his POV.

On a cool day, Faust notices that the weather seems to be turning towards rain. He heads out of the church to tell the children playing around outside that they should go home before the weather gets bad, hears a familiar voice among their chatter, and realizes that MC is there.

The kids are chirping about a special day soon, and when he interrupts to ask what all the fuss is about, MC explains to him how the children were telling her that it was his birthday soon.

Faust muses that he didn’t really remember it was almost that time again, and she wonder if he’s not going to celebrate with Vlad and Charles, but he says he’s not interested. Charles had wanted to do something for the day, but Faust had told him not to bother - the day is irrelevant to him anyways.

MC seems very disappointed by his lack of enthusiasm, and this puzzles Faust - why does she care about a matter that only concerns him?

He pushes all this aside and brusquely shoos her and the children away, telling them to hurry home, and when she protests his cold demeanor he tells her that it would be a nuisance to have her or any of the kids freeze to death outside his church.

They leave, but once he’s back inside he thinks how that’s right - children are weak and fragile, easily overpowered or killed by things stronger than them - and that only pureblood vampires can bring someone back from death. Not even God can perform a miracle such as that.

Some days later, he finds himself prevented from going into the church by an excited MC, who begs him to wait just a bit longer. As he’s left wondering what she’s up to, she’s talking through the door and then excitedly leads him inside - where the children are assembled and an eager chorus wishes him a happy birthday, throwing little handfuls of confetti on him to his utter surprise.

They all begin pressing little gifts on him - a four leaf clover one child found, a bit of origami made by another, etc, and MC proudly announces she baked him a cake. 

He’s still taken aback, and she talks about how nervous she was he’d realize their little plan. Faust teases her about being dull, and at her rushed indignant response he can’t help laughing and tweaking her cheeks, surprising even himself with how much he enjoys her reaction and how natural bantering with her feels.

He then thanks her formally, but she points out that it sounds stilted, like an act, and she seems obviously disappointed. He realizes she wants him to be enthusiastic and happy, but he just doesn’t have feelings like that for a day of no consequence, and tells her as much.

The the kids boisterously ask about the cake and if he and MC want some, to which Faust just tells them he doesn’t care, and as the beautiful cake is cut and dispersed to the excited eager children, he reminds himself he doesn’t care about birthdays...and wonders at the strange state of his heart.

Finally the day draws to a close, and he and MC see the children off back home from the threshold of the church. Faust calls her out on being the one who planned the party and she fesses up, and he muses to himself how she seemed to be enjoying it just as much as the kids did, playing and laughing alongside them.

But then she points out that everyone was more than eager to help out, and with a laugh she states that the children really seem to love Faust. He watches her happy smile and thinks that it seems far more natural that someone would like a person like her, before he replies that he isn’t so sure about that...but the kids seemed to have had fun and he’s glad for that.

To himself, Faust thinks that children are clever and smart, and just latch onto anything as a convenient surrogate - otherwise, he has no clue why they’d come hang around him.

Lost in those thoughts, he heads back inside, but MC calls out for him to wait. She grabs his arm, with sad eyes, and asks why he was so cold - observing that he really didn’t seem to enjoy today at all. He wonders at her expression, as she goes on to say how she and the children just wanted to be happy with him, and she begs him to take her feelings seriously - isn’t it a special day?

He can’t begin to fathom why she’s so worked up over his problems, but her earnest gaze seems to pierce his frozen heart and before he knows it he’s speaking - telling her that if today is an anniversary, it’s that of his being abandoned.

“I am an orphan,” he explains, while thinking of how he was discarded in the forest as an infant. The day of his ‘birthday’ is just the day he was found, arbitrarily assigned to him...it has no real meaning. He tells her that’s why there’s no need to celebrate.

She seems taken aback, and apologizes for making a fuss, and seeing her so downcast bothers him. He asks why she is apologizing...and then he pulls her towards him, cradling the back of her head - but when their eyes meet, the sadness in her gaze tightens his chest, and he is frustrated by her concern and his emotional disarray, so takes it out on her by trying to push her buttons and ‘punish’ her for being so willingly defenseless.

He leers, asking if she wants to comfort him - saying that if the guinea pig is so willing to press herself against him, he’ll gladly accept, and strokes her neck while telling her to let him do as he pleases.

Shocked, she pushes him away and shuts him down, but this only delights him and he laughs, enjoying her spirited response to his bullying and telling her that her stubborn face is all the gift he really needs. He thinks though that this will be enough to bring the matter to an end, to push her away, but then he’s startled when she breaks the long silence.

“Faust, I...I hope someday that you will be happy on your birthday,” she tells him.

He sighs that she’s still going on about that, but she continues - stunning him into silence when she says that the birth of anyone is a miracle and she thinks it’s something special.

‘There’s no such thing as miracles’ is what he would usually say to something like that...but he can’t seem to bring himself to.

Just as she’s about to leave, he breaks the silence and calls out her name. He tells her that the children that come around the church are mostly either orphans or from desolate families - and that they would never have the chance to have something like a party cake in their lives. Thinking of how happy they were, he tells her that maybe today was a good day after all.

After she’s gone, late that night, he’s studying the gifts still gathered on the altar. He scoffs aloud at the sight of them, but then wonders what MC would think, and recalls her words about her hopes for his happiness and how life is a miracle. 

Aloud, he remarks that she’s an odd woman...but unknown even to him, he is smiling, and he thinks that they have at least one thing they can agree on - that life is special after all.

FIN

(Thanks to @mikotomizuki​ for giving this a second set of eyes!)

[artnerd1123]

A Familiar World

Threadbare ——————————————-

Some material isn’t made to last long under stress. Unfortunately, you don’t get to choose when it breaks. A lesson those who work with fabric ought to know well. Evangel may be a tailor, but she underestimated how much her familiar could take. Things get more than a little out of hand when seraph has a... rough morning. 

The masterpost for AFW can be found here. The chapter post for AFW can be found here.

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yea i don’t have too much to say abt this one, other than hehe hoho character development and feral form shenanigans. there’s not too much body horror going on, but there is a bit of eye horror, so keep that in mind! 

The sky was covered in a thick smog of gray that morning. The cool air of the coming winter had been steadily pushing the clouds’ bleak mask over the usual soft blue. The cliffs, for the first time since spring, had fallen silent. The cobblestone streets were chilly, the breezes biting anyone who ventured out. The whole town was just… quiet. Colorless. Still. A sluggish, hazy dormancy. Not an atmosphere that many enjoyed. … really, it was the cold that bothered Seraph the most. She’d rolled out of bed soon after her mama, tiredness and gravity tugging at her eyelids. The ache of last week’s mistakes and endless errands had coiled itself into a knot in her chest. It felt brittle in the chilly air. Her wings wrapped tiredly around her form. It wasn’t much, but it trapped a little warmth. Tiny chirps of discomfort accompanied her footsteps. The floor felt like ice. But mama needed her to be up. So she was up. The little familiar staggered over to a tiny box of her clothes. A quick rummage around produced a pair of thick socks, a moth eaten sweater, a pair of leggings, and a scrap of fleece for a blanket. It wasn’t a lot. But. Mama hadn’t finished her winter line of clothes yet. She’d promised her a whole new drawer full, and she’d seen the pictures. They all looked lovely. Mama even let her pick the new fabric out. Mama will get to it, she reminded herself, tugging her sweater over her head. She’s been very busy with the shop and minding me, its ok. I’ll be ok. That’s what she hoped, anyway. She’d been so… tired. Seraph wandered into the kitchen when she finished getting dressed. Mama was already sitting at the table, picking forlornly at a bowl of cereal. The sight dropped Seraph’s comfort lower. Mama was sad? Why? What happened? Was mama still mad at her for for being out too long again? Or for forgetting things she’d told her? She felt like she was doing that a lot lately. Or was Mama just... unhappy? Seraph… no, seraph couldn’t have that. Not first thing in the morning. She- she’d fix it. Seraph cleared her throat to announce her appearance. Evangel glanced up at the sound, but nothing changed in her gaze. Her eyes slipped back to her cereal a moment later. Seraph decided to try again. “Morning mama,” she twittered, doing her best to smile and stand up straight. “How are you doing?” Evangel heaved a long sigh, leaning back in her chair. “Awful, doll,” She huffed, “simply awful. I slept like a serf with bedbugs. Yesterday was an ordeal and a half...” “O-oh… I’m sorry, mama,” Seraph replied softly. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she walked over to Evangel’s chair. She set her hoof on Evangel’s free hand. She had to fix this. “Can… can I do anything…?” “Yes, doll, you can,” Evangel sighed. She took her hand away from Seraph’s hoof, waving absently towards the stairs. “I need you to go check stock.” Seraph felt her shoulders relax a bit. Stock. Yes, she could do that. She could easily do that. And mama would be happy after that, and so she wouldn’t have to worry, and she could get rid of the growing knot in her chest. She’d be a good familiar, she would.   “Right away, mama!” She chirped, turning to go. “Oh, doll, wait. That’s not all,” Evangel broke in. Seraph paused. Another errand? After… after everything she’d been doing these past few days…? “... y… yeah…? What else do you need, mama…?” She asked nervously. “You’ll have to buy some new winter fabrics for me at the market today, and pick up some new cereal. This oat filth is awful,” Evangel huffed. “And you need to go get us some new frozen meals while you’re at it. Everything spoiled again because you left it out too long.” “Y-yes mama, I got it-” “Honestly, I still don’t know how you could be so irresponsible,” Evangel scoffed, shaking her head. Seraph felt the knot in her chest tighten painfully. “I… I’m sorry, mama,” She said meekly. “I didn’t mean it, really.” “Yes, well, you have to do better,” Evangel continued. “I expect more from you. You’re so much better than that. You were doing perfectly a couple weeks ago, and I know you can do well if you try, doll.” “R-right, mama, I-I’m sorry. I’ll try harder, really!” “Apology accepted.” Evangel’s gaze felt as bleak as the gray sky. “I know you will.” She waved a hand at Seraph again, shooing her from the room. “Come back when you’ve finished looking at the stock. I’ve got a few more things I’ll need you to do, too.” “O-ok, I will.”

Walking down the steps, Seraph tried her best to steady herself. The icy knot in her chest felt like barbed wire, scratching at her heart. She needed to be in a better headspace if she was gonna look at stock, or she’d mess something up. But she couldn’t get what mama said out of her head. Her feet thumped heavily on the wooden stairs as the words echoed. You’re so much better than that. Mama was right, of course. She’d been making a lot of mistakes. Maybe it was leftover tiredness from her birthday, or maybe it was trying to get used to more height and longer limbs. Maybe she wasn’t used to doing so many chores. Maybe she needed more rest. She didn’t know. But none of it was an excuse! She’d been doing so much better before. Yes, mama was home the whole time she was out shopping. Yes, mama had put up groceries before. But it was Seraph’s job, because mama was working, and mama couldn’t help with all the things she needed her familiar to do. She- she couldn’t. Mama needed her. And she kept letting her down. What kind of familiar was she? As soon as the thought passed her mind, the pain in her chest spiked. It felt as if she’d spilled boiling water down her front- and it hurt. The little familiar let out a gasp, hoof clutching at her sweater. What was going on??? She bit her lip, leaning against the wall. Did she just need to breathe? She’d try to breathe. The air felt like ice in her throat when she inhaled deeply. It made her cough and wheeze, free hoof scrabbling for her throat. The boiling, scratching heat was spreading from her heart now. It felt like lava under her skin. Tears rose to her eyes, her body starting to shake. What was wrong with her?! She- she needed mama- mama- mAMA-! Seraph couldn’t finish her thought. Her mind gave up on thought as the pain skyrocketed. Somewhere distantly, she felt her legs give out from under her, and send her rolling down the last few steps. The last thing she registered was a tumbling kaleidoscope of pain and fear, the world suddenly shattering into a thousand little pieces.

Evangel glanced up sharply from her cereal when something thumped heavily down the steps. Confusion flashed across her face- what had seraph dropped now?- but it didn’t have long to take root. After all, the thumping was nothing compared to the shrieking that pierced the air moments later. She squealed indignantly, spoon flying from her hand as she tried not to fall face first out of her chair. What in Revaew’s good world was going on down there?! Had seraph somehow let in a hoard of seagulls?! With the amount of mistakes and foolishness she’d had to put up with lately, this was just the icing on the cake. Face reddening, she sputtered indignantly, gathering up her skirts to stomp down the steps. It was about time her familiar got a stern talking to. The shrieking continued, albeit more viciously, as she headed downstairs. “Seraph Sanyi, you stop that this instant!” she huffed, heels clacking dangerously on the steps. “I don’t know what you’ve let in here, but I suggest you let it out, or I’ll- I-I’ll-” All Evangel’s irritation drained as quickly as it appeared. She stood with one foot still on the steps, fistfuls of her skirts held in a grip tight enough to whiten her knuckles. Her face was just as pale, just as tense. The shrieking was less of a scream now. More of a slow hiss. But that’s not what stopped her cold. No, that honor belonged to the thing in front of her. It was hunched over in the center of the room, ripped fabric and torn clothing scattered about. The thing must’ve been around the size of a coyote- and it looked just as wild. Dozens of eyes- black, with silver slit pupils- peered from its exposed skin. They rolled and blinked unnaturally, nearly making the observer sick. Six wings flared protectively from its back, feathers of pearl, flax, and lavender gleaming eerily in the dim morning light. A halo floated low above its head. Its golden light was almost blinding to look at directly. As Evangel watched, a deep, guttural growl bubbled from its form. She would’ve recoiled in horror as the thing started to move, all of its many black eyes snapping to her, but she found her feet glued to the floor. She couldn’t do more than tremble as razor sharp claws scraped against the wood planks, the stark golden glow shining harshly against her skin. Wild wool shrouded a darkened face, a gaping maw glimmering wetly with rows on rows of sharpened teeth. She wished that were the end of it. But... its eyes… Silver. Pure silver. Glowing dimmer than the halo, but enough to tell the stark difference of slitted, pitch black pupils. And they were staring right at her. At her. The sorceress only had a moment of budding snarls before it flapped its wings and pounced. Evangel let out a shriek to rival the creature’s, diving out of the way. It managed to dig its claws into her skirt, snarling and screeching viciously. She screamed louder, tugging with such force that the prized silk tore into shreds. She gasped in utter horror- her dress was ruined- ruined!- nearly forgetting the creature was there. Its snarls reminded her, and she rushed frantically for the door. She slammed into it with enough force to ring the bell, clawing desperately at the handle as the creature yowled and screamed behind her. She managed to get it open just in time. When she slammed it shut, a clattering thunk accompanied a flurry of feathers and eyes and clawed hooves. Evangel could hear the creature screeching in fury. She didn’t care- couldn’t care- she just shoved the key in the lock, barring the door through tears that spilled from her eyes. She could feel the hot wetness streaming down her cheeks as she stumbled down the street. Her mind was absolutely reeling- and oh, everyone out here was staring at her- this really couldn’t get any worse- her poor dress- her makeup was ruined- and her shop- oh, the mess- What was that?! Who was that?! How had it gotten into her shop- and where was- She paused in realization, sniffling miserably. … where was seraph? ... Wait a minute. Wool? Hooves? Wings? Feathers? The halo… even the dark mask on the creature’s face… Slowly, the sorceress glanced over her shoulder. What in the name of satin silk skirts had gotten ahold of her familiar? … … there was only one person she could think to ask now. Her eyes searched the street, falling on the sign of the little music shop. Sadie Mellokomp. The lady that kept her little doll out much too late. Away from her. Though loathful bile clawed at the back of her throat, she swallowed it back down. No matter how much she despised it, Sadie likely knew more about seraph than she did. She’d need that woman if she were to figure out what just happened. ~~~

Talking with the woman was… an ordeal. Evangel supposed it could’ve gone worse. Sadie was sympathetic. Not so much about her dress- did she not know how much time and labor this would take to repair?!- but she felt bad about what happened to seraph. Because- apparently- that thing in the shop was seraph. Careful questioning revealed that familiars had something called a feral form. Her parents had neglected to inform her of its existence. If a familiar got too stressed and too overwhelmed, their entire body would warp into something awful. Evangel could feel the woman carefully sizing her up the whole conversation. She let tears spill over any time her gaze got too close for her liking- she hated people staring at her, and she especially didn’t like being accused of things. But what if she was being a bad originator? Perish the thought! She couldn’t be! She made seraph clothes, she gave her sweets for dessert, she let her see the sirens and sleep in on weekends and was making her a whole new wardrobe! Seraph must’ve had something going on that she didn’t tell her about! Evangel blubbered long enough for Sadie to give her some stiff- if a little flat- comfort. Eventually, she pulled herself together enough to think about heading back. The woman told her that feral forms were triggered by too much stress. Too much work. Evangel supposed she had been pushing seraph a little hard. If this was what happened from piling on all those chores, she supposed she might ease up some. At least enough to figure out how to keep that under control. … first, though… she’d need to handle her wayward familiar. 

~~~

Evangel stood before the door to her shop once again. Her hand shook like a leaf, bringing fleeting memories of the day she moved here. Behind her, she could feel countless eyes on her back. They clawed at her tattered dress, her runny makeup, her unkempt hair- she shut her eyes for a moment, trying to breathe. She’d deal with this horror later. For now, she just… had to take care of her familiar problem. That would be easy enough. Seraph loved her, after all.

The door opened with a click and a creak, shedding dim cloudy light on a fabric littered floor. The pure carnage of ruined clothes was enough to choke up the door’s occupant. Oh, all her work… and her designs… she nearly sobbed on the spot. Of course, the pale golden light grazing the walls put a stop to that

The creature was crouched just under the back counter, wings shifting in agitation. Its blackened eyes roamed all over the room, unable to gaze at any one thing. Destroying the mounds of soft fabric felt good. But only for a little. The tension in its chest was replaced with a dull ache. Some part of it said it shouldn’t have done that. But why? What… what even… happened? Its body felt… wrong. Too bright. Too big. Too many limbs. Too… sharp. It shook its head gently, claws digging through wool to scrabble at deep purple skin. It had been desperate. Desperate to get… something. Attention? A word? A… a touch? Its thoughts had plenty of time to turn in circles, but came to a screeching halt the moment the door creaked open. Its body tensed, wings flaring up on instinct. Something made the door move. Someone. Made the door open. Someone was here. A low, menacing hiss rumbled from its throat. Nobody was allowed near it. Not now. Not ever. Its claws dug into the counter’s side as it snaked up top. Its lips were drawn back in a furious snarl, ears pressed firmly against its skull. Though many eyes continued their mindless wandering, quire a few fixed on the new light pouring in. A figure stood in the doorway. The shape seemed tantalizingly familiar. But something about them was… wrong. Cold. Icy. Unmoving. Unsmiling. Unhappy, unable to please, to do right, to do anything- The creature clawed at itself again, shrieking softly. Shut up shut up shut up shut up- Wings shuffling about, obscuring its view, it almost didn’t catch the figure moving. But move they did, and it made the creature screech in warning. The figure’s answering cry made its chest churn uncomfortably- wrong wrong- and it curled in on itself. It spread its wings wide, trying to make itself as large as possible. Leave leave go away, stay away, stay away- Suddenly, the figure spoke. “Seraph, is… is that you?” … seraph. Seraph. The name was… did it know that name? Its threatening growls wavered in confusion. The name seemed to fit, but… how did the figure know that? Familiar, wrong, stay away stay away- “Oh, sweetheart… it’s ok… mama’s here…” Mama? The word tumbled around strangely in its mind, freezing its body in place. Mama. Mama mama mama. Its slitted eyes grazed over the figure, bewildered. Yes, that… wait… did that fit? Mama… She… nngh- The creature’s wings caved in on itself, their threat display unsustainable with the turmoil in its mind. It wrapped itself in feathers, shrieking softly in distress. Seraph- yes- mama- yes- no?- who- who is- but- safe?- wrong- wrong wrong wrong- “... seraph… I…” The creature crooned painfully. “I’m sorry.” The words ground the creature’s mind to a halt. Silence fell in the shop. Neither of its occupants did more than breathe. Eventually, the glow of the creature’s halo seemed to dim a little. Feathers shifted slightly. Silver eyes peeked from behind them. Searching. Hurting. Confused. The figure returned its gaze steadily, carefully spreading their arms in invitation. “I’m sorry, doll. I didn’t realize you were feeling this bad.” Sorry, sorry… “Won’t you come to mama now?” Ma... m… ev… evan… gel…? “I promise I’ll help make everything better.” Suddenly, everything came rushing back.

Evangel watched as her familiar’s form bucked and heaved, curling up smaller and smaller in the blinding light of her halo until all that remained was the small creature she knew. The tension left her shoulders immediately, a sigh escaping her lips. Good, it worked. She didn’t know what she would’ve tried if it didn’t. She didn’t want to go drag that woman- Sadie- down to do a job she should’ve been able to. This was her familiar. She was handling things just fine. Of course, the situation wasn’t over yet. She did not want a repeat of that… episode. Evangel crossed the room quickly, scooping up her familiar in her arms. Seraph clung to her weakly. As the little one twittered apologies and confused questions, she simply hushed her, promising rest and sweets. A story, too, if she wanted. No need to worry about the absolutely dreadful mess the familiar made- not now, anyway. Evangel would clean it- blegh, how awful- and let the little one rest. It would be ok. She was here. Anything to keep her doll quiet and content while she figured this out. … she just needed to keep this from happening again.

~~~

In the corner of the bedroom, Seraph lay curled up in fleece blankets. Normally, she wouldn’t have these. Normally, she contented herself with swatches of comfy fabric scraps. But today… was not normal. Today… she didn’t know what happened. Trying to remember was all a blur. Tumbling down the stairs, agonizing pain, and suddenly a glimpse of a figure in the doorway, whispering apologies and sweet nothings. She’d been bundled away upstairs, into where she was now. Given softness and a few of her favorite cookies. Promises were made about rest and who would share the chores. It all felt… strange. Good, but strange. Maybe she’s getting better, a voice whispered in the back of her head. She shifted a little, pulling back fleece to peek at the door. She could hear her originator speaking downstairs. The rasp of bristles on wood said she was cleaning. Cleaning up her mess. She’d seen the tears in her originator’s best dress. Seen the shreds of fabric of her finest work scattered all over the woodwork. Felt the horror bubbling up in her chest even as she was reassured it would all be ok. Seraph let the blankets fall back over her head. She knows what happened. She’s not mad at me. She’s… she’s letting me rest. She’s taking care of me. She said she was sorry. She said she’d make it better. Seraph took a shaky breath, letting her eyes drift shut. She would rest. Just like she was told. And… the warmth… the cookies… the gentle tones of her originator’s voice… She loved her. She did. She really, really did. So… it would be ok. Yes, it would be ok. … but the familiar made herself a promise, anyway.

Evangel will take care of me. She loves me. I love her too. I’m here to help. I’m not here to hurt. I will never, ever let this happen again.

[novissa]

it’s brighter now

here’s the nova birthday fic finally!! here’s the original post. also this wasn’t supposed to be this long but it’s over 3k words now i guess

“Nova!” Ruby yells, catching her by surprise. Nova almost loses her balance as Ruby throws her arms around her.

“Is everything okay?” Nova asks, cautiously hugging Ruby back. The touch doesn’t shock her as much as it used to.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us about your birthday!” Ruby says, jokingly offended. “I know we couldn’t celebrate last year, with everything… but we could have a party this year.”

Nova freezes, trying to remember the date. It’s… “Sweet rot, it’s May 26th,” she says. Ruby’s beaming face confirms it. “That means… tomorrow’s my birthday.” She completely forgot. Birthdays never really were much of a focus with the anarchists, and her presents mainly were science experiments with Leroy. Occasionally Winston would tell her a story or draw something for her, but most of the time it was just a present to eat something other than honey.

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” Ruby says. Nova shrugs.

“How did you even figure out my birthday?” Nova asks instead of replying to that.

“Your file,” Ruby says. “I was doing desk work for Thunderbird earlier and I wanted to see when your birthday was.” She smiles. “I mean, I didn’t expect it to be this soon, but I’m glad I didn’t miss it!” When Nova raises an eyebrow, she adds, “Well, Leroy also told me.”

Nova can’t hold back her smile. Of course. “You really don’t have to do anything—”

“Shut up, Nova,” Ruby says fondly, “We’ll throw a party for you. Balloons, cake, the works.”

Nova frowned. “I don’t want a party,” she says quickly.

Ruby looks at her, then nods. “Okay, if it makes you uncomfortable we don’t have to have one. But we have to celebrate somehow! What if it was just the team? We could go to the movies or go skydiving or something!”

Nova laughs. “Do people actually do that? Anyway, I’d… be alright if it was just the team. And Narcissa. But no skydiving or anything. Maybe something we’d do on a normal night. We could just watch a couple movies at home.” It surprises her how… almost excited she is for this. While she’s still not too big on the idea of a birthday party, she really does love these guys. Her friends. Friendship is still a concept that is fairly new to her, but she’s glad she has them. Maybe… maybe she’s not so far gone after all.

“Yes!” Ruby says, hugging her again. “Okay, this is the greatest thing ever. I’ve got to go, but we’ll figure out a time for tomorrow. Okay. See you later, Nova! You’re the best.”

Nova smiles. “See you,” she says lightly. “Oh, but please don’t make a big deal. No presents or cake or anything—”

Ruby’s face lights up. “Don’t give me any ideas.”

“I swear to the stars, Ruby, if you’re about to text the team to plan something elaborate—”

Ruby laughs. “Sorry, I have to go! My… brothers need me to help them with their… science project!”

Nova sighs, but a smile plays on her lips. She can’t say she’s too terribly annoyed about all of this. It wasn’t long ago that she was completely uncertain about where she fit with her team, but now… things really are good. Sometimes she still hears gunshots in her head when she closes her eyes, but she doesn’t need to run anymore.

(The second Ruby’s out of Nova’s line of sight, she sends a text to the rest of the team.)

Ruby to nova defense squad May 26, 2:42 p.m.

GUYS WE HAVE AN EMERGENCY

Nova’s trying to figure out how to make Oscar a cane-gun when he knocks on her door. He hands her a cupcake and she takes it, slightly puzzled as to what’s going on. “Uh… hi?” she says.

“Nova! Happy birthday-eve!” Oscar says enthusiastically. “Ruby told me about the plan for tomorrow night, and I wanted to stop by to see how you were doing with all your inventions and stuff. And my grandma insisted I bring you a cupcake.”

“Thanks,” she says. “Um, do you want to come in?” He’s acting kind of weird. “I can show you how your cane-gun’s coming along.”

“Yeah, sounds great,” Oscar says, slightly distracted. “What do you use to make your inventions? Like, what supplies?”

Nova blinks at him. This is odd. “Well, it depends…” She explains the different materials she uses the most, though Oscar mainly looks confused.

“Uh, could you write that down?”

Nova nods, reaching for a sheet of paper. “Why? Are you… considering learning more about this?”

“Yeah! That’s exactly it!” Oscar says quickly, looking very relieved. “It’s so interesting hearing about your inventions and I’m thinking of giving it a try. That’s why I wanted to know.”

Nova smiles. She loves to see other people getting excited about engineering. “We can go supply shopping together! And I can help you! Are you free right now?” She runs through the list of everything she’d need to help him with in her head.

“Um— no. Sorry. I’m meeting up with Ruby in a few minutes,” he says apologetically. “But maybe sometime this week?”

“Yeah!” she says. “Is there anything else going on?” She studies him carefully, watching him fidget with his cane. Something’s definitely not normal. “Are you… okay?”

“Yeah, totally!” Oscar says (not very convincingly). “Anyway, thanks for talking to me about this. And the design for the cane-gun looks awesome! I’ve got to meet up with Ruby now, but seriously. Thank you. And happy birthday-eve.”

Nova smiles and closes the door behind him. That was weird.

Oscar to nova defense squad May 26, 2:58 p.m.

Ahhhh I’m not good at lying

Nova heads to Leroy’s apartment the next morning. She tries to visit him as often as possible, and it’s always interesting to see his latest science experiment. He greets her at the door with a grin. “It’s my favorite birthday girl!” he says, wrapping her up in a hug. Nova feels like she’s gotten caught in quite a few hugs lately, but she finds that she doesn’t mind it as much as she thought she would.

“How have you been doing?” she asks him, eager to get the attention off of her birthday.

“About the same as you asked last,” he says. “I’ve been talking to Hugh and Simon a little.”

This catches her off guard. She figured out that most of the council isn’t actually that bad a while ago, but it’s still so odd to think of Leroy chatting with his once mortal enemies. She tends to try to keep her life compartmentalized, and the idea of a former anarchist and the head of the Renegades council gossiping over tea is too weird for her. “How are they?” she asks, still trying to wrap her head around that mental picture.

“Good,” Leroy says. “I’m glad that Simon can be around Max now. It sounds like they’re very happy.”

Nova smiles at that. She wishes the best for them, even though it wasn’t long ago that she attempted to murder Hugh. “I’m glad. They deserve to be happy.”

Leroy watches her carefully. “About that… are you?” At Nova’s confused look, he adds, “Happy. I know you said it wasn’t joy you were looking for when I gave you the choice to be free, but now… are you happy?”

Nova thinks about it for a moment. She never thought that it would be possible, after the death of her family and her search for revenge. Even now, there are hard days for her. Sometimes she likes to imagine an alternate universe where things aren’t so broken, where she has a sister and a few less scars and can fall asleep every night. But in this universe… so many things have gone wrong and have shattered and broken into a thousand pieces. But maybe she doesn’t have to imagine all these universes. She thinks of every kind thing her friends have done for her, Ruby’s insistence that they do something for her birthday, Max’s geology jokes, the cupcake Oscar gave her, and Adrian’s hand in hers. There is goodness in this world. While she can’t fall asleep every night (and often likes the perks of not having to sleep), she feels safe for the first time in years. Maybe her family’s dead, but she’s made her own. She has scars all over her body, but she finds that she doesn’t hate them anymore. So maybe she is. She looks at Leroy and nods. “Yeah,” she says softly. “Yeah. I think I am.”

Leroy’s face softens. “That’s good. I’m glad. So am I, I think.”

She smiles again. It’s a new feeling, and a bit disconcerting, but she kind of likes being happy. She’s never felt so light.

“What are your plans for your birthday?” Leroy asks.

As much as Nova wanted to avoid this topic before, she doesn’t hate it as much as she thought she would. It’s an instinct to hide, to pretend to hate things so that she doesn’t feel bad about not experiencing it before, but it’s also nice to let herself hope. “I’m going to hang out with the team tonight,” she says. “I don’t want something huge, but I do like being with my friends.” Friends. The word still feels foreign on her tongue. “I might hang out with Adrian this afternoon, too.”

Leroy smiles. “That sounds good.” It looks like a thought occurs to him. “But I think Adrian might be busy this afternoon. Something about, um… Max.”

“Huh,” Nova says, looking at him closely. Leroy’s a pretty good liar, but after spending ten years with him she can tell when something’s off. Interesting. She wrinkles her nose as she detects a new scent. “Wait… is something burning?”

Leroy’s eyes widen. “Oh! That’s one of my new experiments. I’ll take care of it. You should go. I don’t want you to have to deal with something like this on your birthday.” He shoos her out the door.

“I can help—” Nova’s cut off by Leroy waving at her and then closing the door. “Oh.”

Leroy (direct message to Simon Westwood) May 27, 2:07 p.m.

I think I burnt the cookies.

After leaving Leroy’s apartment, Nova goes back to her own apartment before realizing that she left her jacket at Adrian’s house a couple days ago. She contemplates just waiting until tonight to pick it up, but she kind of wants something to do. She calls him, but he doesn’t pick up.

Nova (direct message to Adrian Everhart) May 27, 2:40 p.m.

hey i left my jacket at your house on monday can i come over?

Adrian 2:41 p.m.

Sorry I’m not home! But you can pick it up tonight

Nova 2:41 p.m.

oh it’s okay i’ll just get it now i have the key

Adrian 2:41 p.m.

No don’t do that my dads are trying a new recipe Kasumi gave them and you do NOT want to get caught up in that

Nova frowns down at her phone and considers going anyway. Then again, it is just a jacket. She’ll get it back tonight. Instead she picks up one of the books she borrowed from Narcissa and still hasn’t started reading yet.

Ruby to OPERATION DAYDREAM May 27, 3:01 p.m.

Running a little late but I’ll be there in 5!

Nova’s almost halfway through her book when Adrian texts her. She glances at the text, then gets up. Her fingers shaking, she quickly types out a response, then rushes out of her apartment.

Adrian (direct message to Nova Artino) May 27, 4:51 p.m.

Nova I’m really really sorry to do this on your birthday and that it interferes with our plans but can you come to my house right now?? It’s about Max and we really need your help

Nova knocks on the Everhart-Westwood household’s door. When she doesn’t get a response, she fishes out her key from her pocket and unlocks it, worry gnawing at her mind. She steps inside. The house is dark, but nothing about it seems unusual. Just… very quiet. She creeps into the kitchen, reaching out to turn a light on when she thinks she hears a giggle. She pauses, wondering if she imagined it. She steps forward, when the lights suddenly flicker on and there’s a chorus of voices screaming “Happy Birthday!”

She almost screams, and then realizes that it’s just her friends. Her entire team is there, along with Max, Narcissa, Simon, Hugh, and… Leroy. There must be a hundred balloons around the room, along with some messily hung streamers. Some slightly burnt cookies sit on the dining table, along with a cake that has “happy birthday” written on it in icing. It’s just so very ridiculous and insane and normal that she feels like she could cry. Everything about this has her friends’ handiwork, and she can’t help but laugh. This explains why everyone was acting so weird. “Sweet rot,” she says. “I can’t believe you did this.” She glances at Max, who is beaming at her. “Max is alright?” she asks, just to make sure. “That was just to get me here?”

Max hugs her. “I’m fine.”

She lets herself relax and smiles at her friends. At her family. “This is the best birthday ever,” she says. “Come on. Let me hug you.” And she absolutely cannot stand group hugs, but she figures that it’s called for in this situation. And maybe she doesn’t hate things as much as she thought she did.

-

The cake is delicious. The cookies are noticeably burnt, but the fact that Leroy cared enough about her to try to bake was enough. More than any of that, though, being with the people she cares about is the best part. She doesn’t care if she sounds cheesy; it’s true.

Once they finish off the cake, Danna suggests that they move downstairs. “We can open presents and then watch some movies,” Danna tells her, and Nova wants to complain about the fact that she didn’t want any presents, but in the end she decides to just nod and thank them.

“Go on without me,” Nova says. “There are some things I want to talk about with them.” She nods towards Hugh, Simon, and Leroy. Adrian squeezes her hand as he heads downstairs.

Once they’ve all left, she turns to Leroy. “Thank you,” she manages to choke out without crying. He’s been the closest thing she’s had to a father for over ten years, and she knows that he always tried to make her birthday special when she was with the anarchists. And now that they’re finally out of the woods, he found a way to make her feel loved. “The cookies were lovely.”

Leroy smiles his lopsided smile that she loves so much. “You’re welcome,” he says. “And no, they weren’t.” He shrugs. “I think my baking skills have improved, though,” he says. “And I barely did anything. Your friends really are something, Nova.”

“They really are,” she says. Turning to Simon and Hugh, she tries to figure out what to say and fails. “Thank you,” she says instead, and tries to convey everything she’s not saying into those two words. It’s not just for the party.

“Of course,” Simon says, and in those two words he tells her that he understands. He says them so earnestly, and it means that they would never consider not doing this. “Thank you for everything that you’ve done for Adrian.”

Hugh nods, and Nova almost loses it. She’s not used to crying. “Nova… your parents would be so proud of you.”

This time she can’t stop it, and a tear rolls down her cheek, followed by others.

Hugh pats her on the back. “Happy birthday.”

-

Once Nova has dried her eyes, she joins the others downstairs.

“Finally!” Oscar says teasingly. “You have to open my present first.”

She laughs and humors him, and then laughs some more when she finds what’s inside. “So this is why you were talking to me about my inventions.”

Oscar shrugs. “To be honest, everything you said went over my head, but I would still like to give it a try.”

To no one’s surprise, Narcissa’s gift is a couple books that she picked out for Nova, and Nova’s glad that she can finally say that she started reading that book she borrowed a couple months ago. There was so much bad blood between them not long ago, and Nova’s astounded by how far they’ve come since then. And also how different things are from the time they dated. It’s so strange to think of that now.

Ruby gifts Nova a friendship bracelet, and Nova barely stops herself from crying again. It fits on her wrist perfectly, next to her father’s bracelet.

Max is next, and he hands her a small model of a house. “It’s from my replica of Gatlon City,” he explains, “so technically Adrian made it. But it’s our house. Just to remind you that while you have your own place now, you’re always welcome here.”

Nova sniffles. For a happy occasion, there seems to be a lot of crying.

Danna gives her yarn and knitting needles. Nova hugs her, and she’s relieved that things seem to be normal now between her and Danna. “They’re extra sharp so that you can also stab people with them,” Danna says with a wink.

Finally, Adrian hands her a canvas. It’s a painting of people standing under a starry sky. There’s her parents, exactly how she described them to Adrian, and Nova is painted in the center, surrounded by the rest of her team, as well as Narcissa and Max. She also sees Hugh and Simon, and Leroy, and… and Callum and Winston. There’s even a little Maggie in the corner, her face drawn in its usual frown.

She wipes at her eyes, not wanting to get tears on the painting. “Adrian… this is beautiful.”

Adrian kisses her on the cheek. “I wanted to paint something that would show how much you mean to us. And what better way to do that than to have a painting of all of the people who love you?” She smiles, and hugs him. “I left some space so that we could add on, because there are going to be so many more people who love you in your life.”

“I love it,” she says. And I love you.

“Now, are we ready to watch a ton of movies?” Ruby asks, her eyes sparkling. Nova smiles at her, trying to thank her for putting all of this together. Ruby smiles back.

Nova (direct message to Adrian Everhart) May 27, 9:55 p.m.

hey i didn’t really get a chance to say as much earlier but thank you so much for your present adrian. it really means a lot that you would care enough to do that

Adrian 9:55 p.m.

You’re welcome!!!! I love you Nova

Nova 9:56 p.m.

i love you too.

[tae-cup]

When The Earth Met The Sea | Of Eternity and Euphoria (2)

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Summary: You had been playing this game with the god of the sea for far too long. He decided to finally put an end to it. 

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 4.7k Words

A/N: Ideas are just-flowing. Let me know your thoughts, they help motivate me a lot! 

Other: 

Series Masterlist

Normal Masterlist

-

-

The god of the sea, with dark eyes like the depths of the ocean and luminescent skin like the fish below, met her when she was just a new god. A goddess meant to manage Earth long after the original god had worn himself out. 

You were the newest addition to the collection of gods and goddesses. Everyday seemed to have a newcomer. It was bad enough that they need a welcome booth for where they all seemed to pop out of nowhere. The Earth was changing and so were the gods. When the god who brought the continents of the Earth together discovered that his apprentice, you, had accidentally triggered fault lines to break them apart, he was rightfully angry. 

“I can’t believe this. A million years of work to be broken like this.” He had hissed at you. You smiled, still young and hopeful, open to change. That’s what the new gods held against the old gods. They were more open and adaptable. They broke tradition. 

-

You met while you were busy arranging Iceland. You sat puzzled at your desk. It was glass with a large Earth in the middle. You could rotate it with a wave of your hand. For a long time most gods called you the insane ruler of Earth. The goddess that was always in her head. You spent most of your days alone, but you had your thoughts distracting you anyway. 

There was a soft knock on your office doors. You looked up quickly, hesitating to open the door. Maybe you could pretend you weren’t here? You shoved Iceland towards the top of the globe hastily, telling yourself you’d move it soon enough. 

“I know you’re in there.” A low voice announced. You knew that voice, everyone did. The god of the sea often complained to the other gods if they encroached on his territory. You had simply been waiting until he got around to you. After all, you were the reason for so much distress in the oceans with continents sliding everywhere. 

“Come in.” You sighed, not wanting to deal with the annoyed god. Taehyung always looked calm on the surface, but he had a swirling vortex of emotions below. You just didn’t feel like being dragged under right now. 

“Pardon my intrusion,” He started off, to which you held back rolling your eyes. “But there are important matters we need to discuss.” 

“Ever the polite gentlemen.” You drawled. “Well, I suppose I have some time. Please, sit.” You gestured to the chairs at the other side of the desk. You then waved your hand, shooing away the globe. 

“First of all,” He sat carefully, making sure not to wrinkle his suit. “I would like to request you slow down your innovations to the modern world. The continents are stirring up the sea floor and causing thousands of species to become endangered or extinct.” A muscle twitched in his jaw, giving away his frustration. 

You simply smiled, clasping your fingers together at the other end of the desk. “Of course, I understand your anger. However, Mr. Kim, there will always be change. Perhaps you just need to adapt?” Your words held a fire that so contrasted your innocent look. 

You may be considered innocent, lost in your own world, and fragile, but in reality you were anything but. You held a fire in your soul, a down to Earth nature, and you quipped back impeccably well. Taehyung had never met a goddess like you, much less a god. Usually gods and goddesses alike would bow to the whims of one of the oldest gods. He may have let the power get to him. He was taken aback. 

“While that, uh,” He swallowed thickly, not sure how to string together the right words. “While that is true, water adapts easily, I can as well. The issue here is the rate at which change is happening. It’s too fast to adapt. I’m asking for your compassion in this to understand my concerns.” 

“I’ll think on it.” You said vaguely. “I want to get the continents settled. After all, I have my own people to take care of.” 

He dipped his head slightly in acknowledgement before standing. The tension in the air thickened. 

“Well, then, I must be going. Thank you for your...consideration.” His voice was steel, but there was a hint of warmth. You couldn’t deny that you had enjoyed the snappy conversation. 

“Good day.” You smiled as you watched him leave in a hurry. It would take more than good looks or witty dialogue to change your mind on things. 

-

-

“Ah, Ms. Y/N.” A familiar voice reached your ears. Oh no. You slowly turned around, a forced smile on your face. 

“Taehyung, how lovely to see you again.” You greeted, looking past him to view the other gods he had arrived with. “I didn’t expect you to actually come.” Your face didn’t give away any emotion, staying on a stagnant smile. 

“Of course I would come, it’s your 1000th birthday.” His lips twitched into a smile. 

“And I will have many more.” You shot back. 

“The first millennia is always special. Soon enough you’ll be considered a proper goddess yourself.” 

“I’m not considered a proper goddess already?” You quirked an eyebrow. He let out a loud laugh that would seem natural if you didn’t know him. He casually ruffled your hair. 

“You’re new yet, don’t be in such a rush to grow old.” His voice had a touch of affection and you weren’t quite sure what to do with that information. He walked away to grab a drink and socialize with the other gods and goddesses at your party. 

It wasn’t a grand party, in god terms. You had a large ballroom in your home, though you rarely held any parties. Humans were tiresome and always needed something from you. That reminded you of another encounter you had with the old sea god. 

-

-

“What’s got you so agitated?” Taehyung leaned casually against the wall in your office. You didn’t need to look up to know it was him. That voice was iconic enough. 

“These humans.” You muttered, running a hand through your hair. “They always want more. It seems Jin has created a very greedy species.” 

“But Jin loves them nonetheless. He admires there tenacity.” 

“They’re like weeds.” 

The dark eyed god laughed genuinely. “You are correct, my darling goddess.” 

You rolled your eyes. “First they thought the world was flat and now they’re begging for a better harvest as if I have nothing better to do.” You massaged your forehead, holding your head in your hands. You sunk miserably into your chair. “What makes it worse is that I don’t.” You practically threw your hands up in frustration. “Why couldn’t I have gotten assigned to the stars or moon?” 

Taehyung’s gaze softened seeing you struggle so hard. He carefully approached you, looking around uncomfortably. What could he do? He lifted his hand and slowly patted your back. It was a mixture of being comforting and annoying. 

“Hey, it’ll be okay. You’ll learn soon enough that you don’t have to do everything they want. Yes, they’ll worship you, but they love you even more if they experience what’s it’s like without your guidance. They’ll appreciate you more.” He said, his voice deep and soothing. You sighed, back moving up and down under his touch. 

“You’re right, I guess.” When you looked up, you met his eyes. And it was like you were drowning. The orbs of his eyes weren’t obsidian at all, they were a deep, glittering blue. You felt like you were losing your grip, so you quickly pulled away. “Thank you, but I’m very busy.” 

He simply nodded and made his way toward the door. “Try not to be so hard on yourself.”

-

-

Even now, your eyes trailed him around the room. You shook your head and decided to distract yourself with greeting the endless sea of new guests. The temperature of the room rose with the amount of bodies piling in. You hadn’t expected so many to show up. You weren’t much of a crowds person, again, you were known as the looney goddess up in her head all day. 

“I hope we can get along well.” Seokjin smiled, placing a kiss on your hand. You smiled gently. 

“I, too, hope we can work together. Though, your humans are troublesome creatures.” 

He chuckled and moved to the side, making way for the last god you expected to see. The god of the underworld stood there, his presence seemingly dropping the room’s temperature in itself. He frowned, looking awfully out of place next to the bright colors of the night. 

“Mr. Min, lovely to see you.” You smiled pleasantly. He waved you off, eyes lazily surveying the room. 

“I just came to wish you well. I believe we’ll be in touch very shortly.” He whispered so only you could hear him. You froze. No god or goddess who was in charge of living things wanted to hear that they would be meeting the god of the dead any time soon. 

“What do you mean? What do you know?” You murmured back, fighting the urge to run to your office and check on the troublesome humans. Jin had left them in your care after he was done perfecting them. He claimed they were the perfect inhabitants for your lonely continents. 

“You’ll have to talk to Jungkook about it.” He shook his head, moving to the side. You realized you had been talking far too long and people were throwing you suspicious stares, especially Taehyung. You excused yourself from the long line and made your way to the bar. You practically stumbled into a seat, like you were already drunk. You must have looked physically paler than ever before because the bartender poured you a glass of something strong without question. 

Jungkook was a new god, like you. He had been made when humans were made. A very select few gods knew his reason for being here. That included the big three (Yoongi, Taehyung, and Seokjin), Jungkook, and Namjoon. The five of them didn’t seem very happy about him being there and they refused to tell you his reason for inhabiting this world. Taehyung would just shake his head, a soft look on his face, and say that he prayed you never found out. 

“What happened?” Taehyung slid into a seat next to you. 

“Tell me, Tae.” You turned to him, hand tightly gripping the glass. “What is Jungkook’s purpose here?” Your jaw clenched. 

“Why do you need to know?” He looked bewildered. 

“It pertains to the safety of my inhabitants.” You hissed. 

“You really shouldn’t worry about it.” 

“Why did Yoongi claim I would be meeting with not only him, but also Jungkook, very soon?” 

Taehyung’s gaze searched your face. He had a distant look on his face. Then he brushed his hands through his hair. He forced a kind smile onto his face, but his eyes were cold. 

“War. Y/N. War. He’s the god of war.” 

-

-

You rushed out of your room to empty the contents of your stomach out once more. You truly were the most human of all the gods and goddesses. You took on a certain amount of pain your little humans possessed, but this was getting ridiculous. How many times can a god throw up on an empty stomach? 

You were not well, everyone knew this. When you could stand, other gods sent you sympathetic looks. Your little humans. Your dreaded companions that plagued themselves with hatred for each other for centuries. 

You gasped for air, flushing the toilet. Your eyes closed, trying to hold onto your stomach. You couldn’t eat, you couldn’t sleep. You had to constantly survey the Earth to make sure they didn’t completely destroy it with any of their fancy new weapons. You fell to the floor, feeling like you’d just been punched in the gut. Gods, what had they done to your beautiful creation this time? 

You stumbled down the halls and towards your office, feeling more dizzy by the minute. Then you saw it, the news reports that flashed onto your screen, the carnage. 

“No.” Your voice was so quiet in disbelief. Then it rose. “No! No! No!” You banged your fist against the table, your other hand clutching your stomach. You felt sick, sicker than before, like you’d been poisoned. All you could see were the words atomic bomb and Japan. You wanted to scream in pain and frustration. You had no lively energy, no color in your cheeks. Your eyes were hollow. Your hands shakily grabbed the table as you pulled yourself to a standing position. Quiet tears streaked down your cheeks. 

“Jungkook.” You yelled hoarsely. “Jungkook!” 

Finally, the young god appeared in a shimmering light, an astral projection to your office. Unlike you, he seemed to be glowing, basking in the violence. Now he radiated energy and pure rage. 

“Please.” You choked, squeezing your eyes shut. “Please, stop this.” You cried out, voice breaking. He just tilted his head, seemingly reveling in your tears. 

“Why? I’m thriving, Y/N.” He chuckled darkly. 

“You’re killing me.” Your voice was flat, stating a simple truth. If the reason for a god’s existence disappeared, then the god would be forgotten as well. He smiled a little. 

“Fine, but you can’t expect me to hold back next time.” He disappeared and you collapsed on the floor, unable to stand any longer. 

Pain was all you felt, saw, heard, smelled. His sadistic smile forever burned in your vision. 

“Y/N?” A concerned voice came through. You heard a tray drop and the hurried footsteps of someone. “Oh my gods, what happened?” 

You didn’t have the energy to respond. 

“See, this is why I told you not to get so invested in your little humans.” He murmured, the low voice giving you a sense of peace. Inside, Taehyung was furious. Seeing you laying there helpless broke something in him. And when he picked you up, you were so frail, all bones. Your immortality would not allow you to starve to death, but you could feel that pain. 

“You idiot.” His voice didn’t wobble, though he felt like breaking down seeing you like this. Maybe he cared more about you than he should. Maybe he was the idiot for falling in love with you. 

“I just-I just wanted to help.” You murmured softly against his shirt. He just clutched you tighter, laying you down onto the large bed. 

“I know, love, I know.” He whispered, brushing a few strands of hair from your forehead. He couldn’t handle seeing you in this feverish state. This is not what a god should look like. 

Your ethereal light was faded significantly, now a dim glow. 

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to take care of me. You have the sea to handle.” 

“I’d choose you over the sea any day.” He murmured, hoping you hadn’t heard, but you had. You just didn’t react, knowing he would feel awkward if you acknowledged it. Your heart beat quickly, and not because of the fever. 

You tugged on his hand. “Stay.”

And he did. 

-

-

“What’s the prophecy?” Taehyung tilted his head, looking at the pale god before him. Yoongi sighed and took a deep breath, ready to repeat the entire thing again. “No, no,” Taehyung held up a hand. “I’ve already heard that version. Just sum up the important points.” 

“Alright.” The older god grumbled. It wasn’t unusual for Taehyung to talk brashly. “Basically, I’ll meet my soulmate and they will lead me down a path that will end in my demise.” 

“Anything else that could lead to your demise?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow. 

The seven men all sat rather uncomfortably around a table in the throne room. They all looked around, trying to avoid the topic. Finally, Jungkook banged his fist on the table. 

“Can we all stop acting like idiots, we’re gods! Why can’t we utter his name? It’s pathetic!” He shouted. Namjoon shot him a glare and Taehyung eyed him warily. He still hadn’t forgiven the younger god for putting you through so much pain. 

“Kronos is not a titan to be trifled with.” Namjoon muttered, barely making out the name. 

“We all know he’s coming back, hell, even Y/N can feel the growing tension.” Jungkook continued his rant, though a little more subdued. It was true, you had been complaining of this tension in your chest for ages now. 

“Don’t talk about her.” Taehyung crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. 

“What? You worried for your girlfriend?” Jungkook sneered. “You’ve grown soft for that insane goddess.”

His fists clenched under the table and Namjoon eyed him carefully. 

“Alright, alright, settle down.” Namjoon glared harshly at the two gods. “Jin?”

“Yes?” The sky god straightened. 

“Keep an eye on Kronos and Taehyung, please stay behind. I need to speak to you about something.” 

Taehyung simply nodded as the others filed out of the room. Now alone, he sagged in his seat. “What do you want, Joon?” 

Namjoon raised his eyebrows. “Is that any way to speak to me? Now, I need you to watch Yoongi. I don’t...I don’t want his love to be the downfall of us.”

The sea god scoffed at the other. “You really think Yoongi would fall in love with anyone?” 

Namjoon’s eyes softened, looking Taehyung over. “I mean you fell in love, it’s not impossible.” 

Taehyung gaped at Namjoon. “What-what? No!” He sputtered. The elder god gave him a knowing smile. “And what are you suggesting! I’m not that hard to love.” He mumbled the last part.

“Listen, you just need to take care of whoever it is.”

Taehyung’s face fell. “Take...care of?” 

“Make it look like an accident.” 

“I thought you didn’t believe that stuff?” Taehyung argued. The thought of destroying someone’s soulmate made his heart ache. 

“Of course I believe the fates. I just didn’t want to worry Yoongi too much. Now, Tae, you’ve found your soulmate, yes?”

The dark haired god tilted his head. “Really?”

“Oh come on, Tae. You can’t be that stupid. It’s obviously Y/N.” Namjoon rolled his eyes. Taehyung swallowed. 

“Why does this matter?”

“Well, I love you like a brother, but if you can’t follow through on this...” Namjoon looked into Taehyung’s eyes, a dangerous smile reaching his lips. “...I won’t hold off Jungkook next time.” 

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “But, hyung, this is too cruel.” Argued the restless god. 

“I have no issue with being cruel. I have an issue with Olympus falling to Kronos once more.” 

“Do you know who it is?” 

“Yes, a mortal.” 

Taehyung froze, swallowing thickly. “A...mortal? Hyung this is too easy.” 

“Mortals are easily curious and attracted to evil, you know this better than anyone...Y/N knows this better than anyone.”

“And yet she stays good on her word to Jin. She still defends them and helps them tirelessly.” Taehyung had even grown a soft spot, seeing how much you cared about those pitiful creatures. 

“She’s a bit odd,” Namjoon watched a muscle in Taehyung’s jaw twitch at that. “But she will understand, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“She’ll hate me, hyung.”

“Thousands are lost to the sea every year.”

“But never on purpose!”

“She won’t hate you. Y/N is your soulmate, she’ll understand it’s for the better of all gods.”

Though the sea god doubted this, he still nodded. “Fine. I’ll do it. But if I get kicked out of the house, I’m staying with you.”

-

-

You did not understand. 

“Tae! You can’t just do this to an innocent person!” Once she had overheard the plan, she ran straight to Yoongi to warn him. “She’s eight. EIGHT!” You felt distraught, feeling sympathy for this poor child who was almost killed for no fault of her own. 

“I can’t believe you went and told Yoongi.” Taehyung cried, slamming his hands on the desk. You flinched slightly, but that didn’t deter him. “I did what I had to! Don’t you understand that? Do you want to die? You’re part of the original gods who put Kronos down there. He won’t be kind to you.” 

“That was the original god, not me.” You defended yourself. “I’m sorry I went to Yoongi, but I can’t do that to him. I know I would feel absolutely heartbroken if my soulmate died.” 

Taehyung frowned, ignoring your statement. “Did you know?”

“Know? That you wanted to kill a child?” 

“No,” He stepped around the desk and took your hands in his. “That we’re soulmates.” 

Your face got visibly pale and you instantly dropped his hands. You tried to ignore the hurt that flashed across his face. “You’re mistaken.” 

“Namjoon told me.” 

“He could be wrong.”

“Would it really be so bad, to be soulmates with me? To live together, forever?” He peered into your eyes. You softened your facial features. 

“I mean, no, I don’t know.” You sighed, tugging at your hair. “I just didn’t expect this.” 

“I wouldn’t mind.” 

You stopped your worrying, glancing over his features. You searched for a sign of sarcasm, but you found none. 

“I think I love you.” You suddenly said, your voice quiet. He resisted the urge to kiss you right there, the look on your face was so pure. 

“You think?” He teased. He took a step forward and this time you didn’t move away. “I think I love you too.” 

He leaned forward, lips brushing yours, teasing you almost. You leaned up, planting a soft kiss on his lips timidly. It was all over then. He grasped your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You ran your hands through his hair. His tongue begged for entrance to your mouth and you gladly let him in. Taehyung’s breath fanned over your face as he pulled away, leaning down to pepper kisses down your jawline and neck. You gasped, surprised at the neediness he displayed. His hands ran up and down your waist. 

“You know I’ll protect you no matter what, right?” He said breathlessly. You nodded, shifting under him. “You drive me crazy, Y/N. You make me want to ruin you.” 

You felt your cheeks heat up. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, the centuries of being alone slowly fading away. It had been so long since you’d touched anyone intimately. You were sure you were that last virgin goddess in this town. You nudged him away softly. 

“Not yet.” Your voice was firm but rang sweet. 

He whined ever so slightly when he pulled away, taking in your flushed face. 

“Gods, I’m so in love with you.” He declared. 

You were speechless. You were so madly in love with him too. But how could you say it? It almost embarrassed you to be so open in your affections. So you simply nodded, pulling him into your lips once more. 

-

-

You had long forgotten the little eight year old you and Yoongi had saved. Then she stumbled into the underworld, every god could feel the disturbance, no longer a little girl. She held herself with a lovely confidence. You couldn’t help watching her. After all, she was under your jurisdiction. You left your bed early in the morning, wiggling out from under Taehyung. 

You watched him slowly shift, not noticing the lack of warmth. You smiled at his sleeping figure. He looked so peaceful, no sign of the whirlpool underneath. You had long been swept under, but you didn’t mind. He never overwhelmed you. 

“Little human, what are you doing here?” You murmured to yourself, watching her wander through the halls. Then you remembered the meeting the gods had in a bit. You carefully flicked through the latest news, though you, of course, knew all of it first. You enjoyed the simple views of these papers, just trying to grab the attention of consumers. 

“You’re up early.” Taehyung stood in the doorway, watching you with such love in his eyes, you just wanted to melt. You were still emotionally unstable since World War II, unable to think about war without wanting to break down again. Taehyung hated that he never stepped in. He hated that Jungkook allowed you to go through that. You felt like a ghost, often drifting off during conversation, but Taehyung was always gentle and patient with you. It seemed you were the only one he had patience for. 

“Oh, yeah.” You scratched your head awkwardly. “Don’t you have a meeting to get to?” 

“Yeah. Yoongi said it was important.” 

“You didn’t kill the girl.” 

“I know.”

“What will happen to you?” 

I’m more worried about you. He thought to himself. “Nothing, love.” He opened his arms and you didn’t hesitate to hug him. “You don’t need to worry about me.” He murmured into your hair. 

“Just don’t do anything stupid.” You mumbled. 

“Of course.” 

You patted his arm lovingly. “And try to give her a chance, okay? You intimidate most gods, what can you expect from a mortal?” 

Taehyung chuckled, but he didn’t respond. You sighed and gave him a chaste kiss. “Be safe, love.” 

-

-

Your face blanched, watching Taehyung get dressed. His hands shook. 

“Where are you going?” You asked, voice small. He jumped, looking back to see you standing in the doorway. Taehyung fastened his necktie, swallowing. 

“Namjoon wants me to finish the job.” 

You froze, eyes widening. “What?” 

“I know.” He groaned, hurriedly putting on his shoes. “but it should be easy since she’s traveling to the surface to pack up.” He went to move past you, but you planted yourself in the doorway. 

“No.” You said firmly, crossing your arms. He looked at you, bewildered. 

“I know you don’t like this, but at this point I have no choice. It’s you or her.” 

“I’m a goddess, Taehyung. I’m not a fragile flower. I can handle pain. A mortal cannot!” You cried out. “If it’s me versus her, choose her.” 

His gaze hardened and he stepped forward. He place his hands on your shoulders. “No.” Then he moved you aside like you were nothing. 

“Kim Taehyung.” You were shaking, hatred pouring through you. “If you do not turn back around right now, I can promise you I will leave. I will leave and you won’t see me again.” 

“I can’t believe this.” He whispered menacingly. He turned on his heel, facing you, pain in his eyes. But he knew the terror and pain you were displaying on your face would be engraved in his mind forever. “A human over yourself? You truly are the most selfless goddess I know.” 

“They are my fish.” You gestured grandly. “If they die, I die. If the Earth dies because of them, then that’s my fault for loving them too much.” 

“You always love people too much. Including me.” He took your hands in his, giving them a soft squeeze, all anger from before was gone. “But you’re lucky I’m absolutely, madly, in love with you.” 

Then he turned around, leaving you frozen in place, heart beating wildly. “Taehyung!” You cried, dress flowing behind you as you chased after him. Too late. He was gone. “No, no, no.” You sank to the ground, holding your head in your hands. The pain you felt for that poor girl. 

-

“Lift your head, Y/N.” His gentle voice called to you. And when you looked up, there stood Taehyung in all his glory. Not a hair out of place. You scrambled up, immediately backing away. 

“That was fast.” You said bitterly. 

“How long have you been sitting there?” His eyes met yours. You glanced away. 

“Since you left.” 

“That was hours ago.”

“So you did it?” You answered harshly, already feeling the tears ready to spill over. 

“No.” 

You looked up at him, eyes blinking back the tears in surprise. “No?”

“I couldn’t. Not to you. Not to her.” 

A grin broke out onto your face. 

“So you do have a heart after all, Mr. Kim Taehyung.” 

He grimaced, “I didn’t like you using my name like that. I prefer you calling me Tae.” 

You chuckled at his forlorn expression. You walked forward and embraced him. His arms enveloped you in warmth and you felt completely safe. Completely normal. Now you understood why humans went to war for such trivial things. Before you couldn’t understand why they hated each other, why they hurt each other, and by default, you. It’s because they love something else that’s worth fighting for. And as you sank into his embrace, you knew you would go to war for him, even if Kronos ate you like your ancestors, you wouldn’t regret it one bit. 

[feedmecookiesnow]

I’m Begging You, Please

For @theorangedeath who requested “"I'm begging you. please." with winterhawk?” Also featuring Clint’s birthday :) Probably 18+? We’ll say yes just to be safe.

***

“I don’t want to go,” Clint say. Whines, really. He’s annoying himself, honestly, but it’s true. He doesn’t want to go. He hates weddings. Hates getting dressed up, hates the forced conversation, and really hates the crappy food. He’d rather be at home, practicing archery or playing with Lucky. “Natasha. Please don’t make me go.”

Natasha straightens his tie. “We’re going,” she says. “You’re my date. It’s not negotiable.”

Clint makes another noise of protest, which she cuts off with a single glare. He glares back, matching her gaze for gaze. They stand there like that for a moment, pressed together, locked in a little battle of wills.

Then he looks away, because she’s way scarier than he is, and she smiles. “Good boy,” she says. “Now. Go get your shoes on. The black ones I set out for you.”

Clint scowls at her, but does as he’s told. What the hell else would he do?

Three hours later, standing uncomfortably in a table in the corner, he’s wishing he would’ve argued a little more. Or at the very least, negotiated an exit time. Natasha is still floating around the room, looking very happy as she chats with various people. Occasionally she looks in his direction with a little glare, which he knows means stop being a recluse and go talk to people. But fuck her, he’s not gonna do it. If she wants him to be social, she can damn well come over here and make him---

“Hey.”

Clint jumps and turns to see some guy standing at his table. “Hey,” he says back, trying to look casual and not like he wants to stare forever. Christ, this guy is hot. Jaw-dropping hot. He’s in a navy jacket and tie, with a lighter colored shirt that just emphasizes how blue his eyes are, and that jawline---

Clint clears his throat and offers a hand. “I’m Clint.”

“James.” The guy shakes it. “You here alone, or...?”

“No, I’m with a friend. She got invited and kind of threatened me into being her plus one. You?”

“My sister’s the bride. I’m here out of family obligation.”

“Congratulations.” Clint looks at the bride. “She looks very happy.”

“Thanks.” James taps his fingers on the table. “So, Clint, what do you do when you’re not forced to attend weddings?”

“I own an archery course, and I teach classes.”

“Archery? Really?” He sounds both baffled and intrigued.

“Yeah.” Clint shrugs. “It’s not much, but it’s fun and it pays the bills.”

“I’ve never done archery,” James says. “I was a sniper in the Army for about four years, but we just had to use guns like regular peasants.”

Clint laughs. “Shame on them,” he says. “Archery is clearly the superior technology.”

“Clearly.” James smiles. “Want something to drink? It’s an open bar.”

“Something with whiskey?”

“Sure.” James turns and walks away, and Clint definitely does not stare at his ass as he does so. Not even a little bit.

James returns after a few minutes and pushes a glass towards him. “Merry Christmas.”

“Happy birthday, actually,” Clint says. He takes it, wondering if James can feel the electricity where their fingers brush, or if it’s just him. “Thanks.”

James tilts his head. “It’s your birthday?”

“Sure is.” Clint takes a drink of whatever’s in the glass---just Coke and whiskey, judging by the taste, but it’s good anyway. He’s always like the classics.

“Oh.” James frowns. “Then why are you here?”

“Because Nat made me, and I had no other plans.”

“No plans on your birthday?”

“It’s just another day, really. Not that important.” Clint waves a hand. “My family didn’t celebrate as kids, and I never really kept track of them anyway. Besides, it’s an open bar here, so at least I can drink for free.”

James looks like he’s going to argue, then says, “Okay, yeah. That’s a good point.”

Clint raises his glass. “I have my moments.”

He takes a drink. James watches him, eyes contemplative, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth as he takes Clint in. It’s a good look on him, Clint thinks. A little sexy, a little mysterious. He likes it.

He sets the glass down and runs his finger around the rim. “Not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that ended up in my bed a few hours later.”

It’s way more brazen than he usually is, and Clint’s not sure what reaction to expect. Maybe a blush, or a laugh, or an awkward shuffle or something. Definitely not for James to lean forward, raise an eyebrow, and say, “Is that a challenge?”

“If you want it to be.” He holds James’s gaze, suddenly feeling warm all over, and not just from the alcohol. There’s a tension between them. He can almost taste it. He wants more of it.

Maybe coming here wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.

James steps forward slightly, just enough to be a little too close. His fingers reach out and straighten Clint’s tie, and Clint swallows nervously, wondering what those fingers would look like tangled up with his own, or undoing buttons on a shirt, or wrapped around his---

“Clint,” says a voice behind them, and Clint looks over James’s shoulder to see Nat. She waves her keys. “Ready to leave?”

“Uh...” Clint looks at James, who smirks a little and turns to face her. As soon as his back is turned, Clint makes a little shooing motion at her. He knows she sees it, but all she does is smile slightly.

“Natalia!” James says, suddenly sounding delighted. He steps forward and wraps her in a hug. “I haven’t seen you in years.”

“Hey, James,” she says, smiling at him. “It’s good to see you.”

James wraps an arm around her shoulders and turns to face Clint. “I didn’t realize she was your date,” he says. “You should’ve said something.”

Clint shrugs. “Didn’t know you knew each other.” He levels Nat with his politest please leave right now face. She smirks and shakes her head slightly.

“Natalia and I go way back. She and my sister used to follow me around all the time.” James pokes her arm. “You had the biggest crush on me too, remember that? I think I still have that card you gave me, the one where you wrote that poem---”

Natasha extracts herself smoothly from James’s grip. “I do remember,” she says, and it’s only because Clint knows her so well that he can see how uncomfortable she suddenly is. He bites his cheek to keep from laughing. “Long time ago, though. I’ve moved on.”

“You look good,” James tells her. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“Me too.” She kisses his cheek. “Clint, I’m going to go.”

“Fine,” Clint says. “I’ll get a cab or something, don’t worry about me.”

Natasha nods and gracefully exits. Clint keeps it together for all of five seconds before he starts laughing. “Thank you so much for that,” he says between gasps. “I can’t tell you what that whole scene just meant to me, but I loved every second of it.” He never gets to see Natasha off balance; it was glorious. He wants to remember this forever.

“She interrupted us,” James says, picking up Clint’s drink. He finishes it off, and looks so damn good doing it that Clint can’t even bring himself to be annoyed. “She deserved every second of it.” He grins. “Consider that your birthday present.

“Best present ever.” Clint says, getting himself under control. “If you do still have that card, I need to see it. I am begging you, please. It’s very important.”

“I could probably dig it out.” James steps back into his space again, runs a finger under the collar of Clint’s shirt. “You’ll have to come back to my place, though. If you want to see it.”

“You drive a hard bargain.” Clint puts his hand on James’s waist, pulls him a little closer. “But I suppose I can deal with that.”

“Good,” James says, and he draws Clint into a kiss. There’s still a hint of Coke and whiskey to him, a subtle sweetness that Clint wants to taste forever. They kiss until they’re both dizzy with it. Then they break apart, and Clint realizes his hand is grabbing more ass than is really appropriate for a public space. He flushes a little and lets go.

“We should leave,” he says to James. “Before things get out of hand.”

“Sounds good,” James says, a little breathless. He clears his throat and reaches into his pocket, pulling a car key. “I’ll drive.”

“Lead the way,” Clint says, and follows James out of the reception hall.

[elvendara]

MM Fluff Week 2020 day 4

Day 4: Accomplishments  ♡  Mysme Friendships

For @mmfluffweek

This one seemed a bit clunky, but IDK, hope you like it anyway!

Yoosung straightened his yellow bowtie yet again and ran fingers through his hair. He went back and forth on whether he should wear his hair clips. In the end, he put them on, after all, Saeran liked them and that’s all that mattered. They were silver with small diamond stars on them. A gift from the twins on his last birthday. Saeran had designed them and helped Saeyoung craft them. If he was honest, they were probably his most prized possession. Taking a deep breath and one final look at himself he nodded and walked out.

This was his only suit, but it had held up well. The sleeves might be a bit small now, he must have grown some, but otherwise fit properly. It was a deep blue that Saeran liked on him, which was a big plus. He was excited and a bit nervous, but he supposed tonight was probably not much different than an RFA party where there would be some wealthy and famous guests. Of course, Yoosung never actually had to mingle with those guests. His duties were more the backstage variety.

He stepped out of his apartment building to a waiting limo. The chauffeur nodded to him as he opened the door.

“Thank you.” Yoosung said.

“My pleasure sir.” The man closed the door as Yoosung settled onto the seat. He’d been in limos before, while accompanying Jumin, but never had one all to himself. It felt silly and wasteful, but Saeran had insisted. It took about fifteen minutes to get to their next destination. The chauffeur once more opened the door, this time to let Saeran in. The man looked stunning, taking Yoosung’s breath away. His red hair was slicked back, his mint colored eyes noticeably not hiding behind the fringe. The black eyeliner was expertly applied, as always, and his studded choker was around his neck. He wore a red Tshirt under a black coat, black jeans and his biker boots. How long since he’d dressed that way? Yoosung had to resist an urge to reach over and ruffle his hair.

Yoosung scooted over to make room for the man next to him, which he took. He turned to him and grinned, green eyes gleaming, but a little terrified as well.

“You look amazing.” He said.

“So do you, I’m glad you decided for this look.” Yoosung admired his boyfriend.

“Uh, yeah…not sure how it will go over though.” Saeran swallowed. Yoosung reached for his hand, it was sweaty.

“Nervous?”

“Shit yeah!” Saeran answered honestly. Yoosung laughed and lay his head on the other man’s shoulder.

“Don’t be, it’s going to be incredible, you’ll see.”

“I…I’m just afraid I’ll let everyone down.”

“You won’t.”

“I wish I could be as confident as you.”

“You don’t have to be, all of us are cheering you on, and even if nobody else likes it, we all love it!” Yoosung turned Searan’s face towards him and kissed him lightly. This was Saeran’s night and he was going to do everything in his power to make it a great one.

Saeran smiled, the tension in his body eased and he reached for the hair clips in Yoosung’s blonde hair. “You wore them.”

“Of course! They’re my lucky charm!” he giggled.

“I’m glad. And grateful for you, being here with me. I can’t imagine having done this by myself without you by my side.”

“You just needed a little push is all.”

“I don’t know. The man I used to be…well…”

“But that wasn’t the real you, it just took you a while to realize who you really are, without all that…uh…”

“It’s OK. I know you’re right. And I know that it will probably be a lifelong journey for me. But I hope you stay by my side.”

“Always.” They exchanged several more kisses before the limo stopped once more. When the door opened, Saeran stepped out into a few lightbulb flashes. He held out his hand for Yoosung, who took it eagerly. There was some media and some onlookers who looked more confused than anything, wondering if they were celebrities of some sort. His amethyst eyes blinked at the crowd, but Saeran only had eyes for him, placing his arm around his waist and leading them inside the art gallery.

The rest of the RFA was already inside, Jaehee and MC in stunning gowns fit for the Oscars. Jumin and Zen both handsome in their tails, Jumin in black, Zen in white, making an ethereal pair. Saeyoung on the other hand, wore a white buttoned long sleeved dress shirt with his regular black and orange hoodie, his hair in it’s usual disarray. Yoosung simply shook his head.

“Little bro! Making the fashionable entrance huh?” Saeyoung hugged him, and the others followed after. Saeran looked a bit awkward and uncomfortable but he handled it well.

“Mr. Choi. I’m so pleased you have arrived, there are several people who have been asking for you. May I take you from your friends?” The woman wore a black cocktail dress, her dark hair in a high tight ponytail, her grey eyes alert and determined.

“Uh…” Saeran stuttered.

“It’s OK, I think we’ll manage.” Yoosung shooed him away. Saeran nodded and let the woman lead him away like a trapped animal.

“He seems to barely be holding on.” Zen laughed sipping from his champagne goblet.

“Give him time, he’ll grow into it. V never much cared for the personal attention either.” Jumin said.

“But V used his charm effectively, I’m not sure Saeran has that same ability.” Jaehee said.

“No, but I think this really has helped him come out of his shell a bit more with other people. Although, I think he enjoys taking photographs because it allows him hide behind the camera.” Yoosung answered.

“Yep, but now he can’t!” Saeyoung laughed. “Can you believe my little brother has his own gallery showing? Not to mention all that social media blowing up over his photos! He’s going to be bigger than V ever was!”

“And I wonder who made that happen.” MC arched her eyebrow at her husband.

“Is it wrong of me to promote my little bro?” Saeyoung asked offended.

“No, but it might be to do it by hacking.” Zen laughed.

“Is that so? Hmm, remind me again, who reblogged onto all his own social media sites?” Saeyoung said.

Zen looked away without answering.

“It was something I never thought I would see, Zen posting something that wasn’t his face or body.” Jumin smirked. Zen slapped his arm but Jumin only laughed and pulled the man close, giving him a peck on the cheek.

“He did take some photos of me as well! I was only trying to help him.” Zen pouted.

“Absolutely my love.” Jumin nodded and went silent.

Yoosung was barely paying any attention as his eyes were on Saeran. In the last few years he’d come leaps and bounds from the man he used to be. There was still that hard shell, but once inside, there was a soft gooey center that was still so very fragile and vulnerable. He cherished the man, the good and the bad, and he was overwhelmingly happy that things were looking up for him. The photos he took were stunning. You couldn’t help but feel something when you saw them. Saeyoung was right, V was incredible, but there was a different perspective to the way Saeran saw the world. The truth of it. That while there was great beauty, there was also great sorrow.

After an hour Saeran finally made his way back to Yoosung.

“Can we go now?” he whispered in desperation.

“No, you promised you’d stay at least until ten.” Yoosung answered.

“What time is it now?”

“Just after nine.”

“Ugh…”

“Come on, why don’t you take me on a tour?”

“You’ve already seen them all.”

“Yes, but, I’d love to hear your perspective on them, you know, explain it to me as if I’ve never seen it before. Besides, it will give you an excuse to stay with me and ignore all these people.” Yoosung grinned.

“True!” Saeran’s eyes lit up. “OK, let’s start over there.” He took Yoosung’s hand and headed towards the center of the gallery. Yoosung didn’t move. “What?”

“I’m so proud of you Saeran.” Yoosung said, eyes glittering with happiness.

Saeran blushed and looked away, but there was a small smile playing around his lips. “You don’t have to say that.” He mumbled.

“I know I don’t have to. I want to. And I am, so very proud. And happy to be here with you. What you’ve done in incredible Saeran. You should be proud of yourself too.”

Saeran sighed and pulled the man closer. Yoosung was sure now, he had definitely grown, he was almost eye to eye with Saeran, if he hadn’t been wearing those biker boots, he might even be taller than the red head now. They embraced and kissed. Flashes exploded around them, but they were oblivious.

[sabraeal]

Happiness Is Just Around the Corner

The Wide Florida Bay | Previous

Written for @bubblesthemonsterartist for her birthday! This was...not the fic I thought I’d be writing, but this is where this subplot needed to start >:3c

There is an improbable amount of fireworks on the lawn.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure none of it’s legal,” Kiki assures him, taking a long drag of her Sam’s Summer. “Shiira took his ducklings up to New Hampshire yesterday, and they came back with two coolers worth of...something.”

Zen coughs on the dregs of his Magic Hat. “What? Should we even--?”

Kiki’s flat stare is more effective than a hand over his mouth. “You really think we’ll get in trouble.”

His gut instinct is yes, because there’s not a day in his life where his brother hasn’t caught him with his pants down just to prove a point. It would be just like him to send a cruiser around so that he could experience the heart-stopping terror of being on the other side of a two-way mirror. Sure, Haruka would be down at the station before he could even ask for a phone call, and all of this would slide off his permanent record like water off a duck’s back, but still-- trouble.

But he doesn’t say that. He takes a deep breath, thinks. It’s quiet here on campus. They’re rowdy, sure, but it’s just the frat there, not some rager with Omega Delta Nu. The campus cops are probably bored out of their skulls, but they’re not going to nail the honor’s frat for a light show.

“No,” he admits, begrudgingly. “Not unless they light something on fire.”

Her mouth twitches, following the spark in her eyes. “Well, there’s a non-zero chance of that.”

Ugh, of course Kiki would be excited by the prospect. “Well, as long as we don’t get--” Obi crosses the lawn, aviators looming over a wide smile, and hovers just at Shiira’s shoulder, perusing the goods. “UH.”

“Fuck.” Kiki hops off the porch, straight down into the landscaping. “I’ll handle this.”

Zen settles back against the porch swing and sighs, taking another swig of Magic Hat. “Yeah, please do.”

Kiki’s already halfway across the lawn by the time he’s finished talking, so quick that when Obi picks up a particularly patriotic package of pyrotechnics, she’s there to snatch it out of his hands. Even from here, Zen can see the jut of his pout, hear the faint whine of Ms Kiki on the air.

Mitsuhide’s lighting up the grill, surrounded by a crowd convinced cooking works by consensus. He takes a handkerchief out of his back pocket-- stars and stripes, stuffed there early this morning as Obi solemnly announced, you are America’s hat today, big guy-- and wipes the sweat beading on his forehead. Zen can’t tell whether it’s from the heat or from the effort needed to withstand six guys offering advice on proper grilling technique.

A cool breeze tumbles through the porch, carrying the muted voices of a dozen conversations. Zen closes his eyes, letting the smell of smoke and the heat of the day wash over him, the swing rocking gently on its chains.

It’s nice, having all this. People he can anticipate. People he can depend on. Friends. The real kind, not just kids whose parents went to the same prep school as his.

This isn’t where he’s supposed to be.

A year ago that would have sent him scrambling-- last minute tickets and crumpled up itineraries paired with the crushing guilt of never being enough. But now--

Now he knows this is where he wants to be. And there’s only one person to thank for that.

“Hey.” His eyes slit open, and there she is, brilliant smile and bright hair, peeping around the post. “Enjoying yourself?”

Zen drops his legs from the rail to make room. “I am now.”

Shirayuki’s mouth slants, playfully wry, and his heart strains against his sternum like a dog testing its leash. “It looked like you were before too.”

“Well, sure.” He wishes he had Obi’s obnoxious aviators right now, if only so she couldn’t see the eager way he watches her as she comes up, tucking herself neatly onto the opposite end of the swing. “But even more now that you’re around.”

Freckles disappear behind a bloom of pink, settling in on either cheek.  “Ah, w-well,” she stammers, staring at her bare toes. “It’s good to know you don’t regret staying here.”

“Instead of being with my family?” He laughs, incredulous, draping his arm over the back of the swing. His fingers just barely brush the freckles on her shoulder. “More like I’m thankful for the excuse.”

Her smile dims. “Oh, um, right. You and Izana...”

She hesitates. There’s a wealth of ways she could end that thought, but instead she says, “It must be nice. I mean, the place your family has, not...”

The fraught relationship you have with your brother. She doesn’t have to say it for him to know exactly what she means.

“It’s all right, I guess,” he allows, wishing she’d sit closer, that she’d give him a good reason to put his arm around her for real, and not just let him awkwardly hang here. “I mean, it’s just a house. The beach is nice though. Private, of course.”

That doesn’t stop his mother from inviting the paparazzi if she thinks it will make a good photo op. Last year he’d made the cover of the Inquirer, face scrunched and unattractive as Izana has splashed sea water in his face, with the words Final Frolic for World’s Most Eligible Bachelor? There had been a two-page spread inside, dedicated entirely to the relationship rumors Izana had accrued since Valentine’s Day.

Well, he didn’t have to worry about that this year. No paparazzo was going to stake out a college frat to take pictures of an illegal fireworks show. Now Haki could deal with having her picture slapped across the tabloids because mother thought candid shots made for better family photos.

“Ah, right...” Her laugh stutters out, awkward and endearing. “That sounds...good?”

Shirayuki’s still next to him, the heat from her skin humid against his fingertips, but she’s never felt so far. He grunts, frustrated, shifting closer.

“There’s an old carousel on the island too,” he offers, haltingly. He’s not sure why the impulse takes him to tell her; why he thinks she, specifically, might like it, save that when he looks at her it’s the same as when he saw those hand-carved horses the first time, well-loved and shining beneath antique lights.

“Oh!” She blinks. “My grandparents took me to one of those, once! Back when we visited...”

Her mouth works silently for a moment before pulling tight, the bittersweet twist making her smile more grimace than grin.

“Well, you’d love this one,” he assures her, sweat pricking at his palms. “It’s the oldest in the US. But it’s still really nice! I’ll take you next--”

His words slam to a stop, running headlong into the barrier of his teeth. She’s staring at him now, eyes wide and mouth parted, and-- and what can he say? I’ll take you next year, when my brother suddenly approves of you.

Yeah, he knows better than to hold his breath for that.

“I’m glad, anyway.” She folds her legs up on the swing, one arm hooked around her knees, and tilts her head back. “It’s nice for all of us to be here, together.”

Her eyes are closed, face serene in the evening light, like she could just sit here forever, breathing into the twilight. His heart flutters just looking at her, at the way she relaxes next to him, content with the slow rock he eases them into. No one can just be the way Shirayuki can.

“It is,” he agrees softly, because anything but a whisper might break this moment, might let the rest of the world in. “It’s going to be weird when you...”

He tries to stop himself, but her eyes fly open before he can. Of course, the one moment he’s gotten her to himself, and he’s gone and ruined it by bringing that up.

“I just mean...” He laughs, tipping his head back on scroll of wood behind his head. “It’s going to be strange when you and Obi are gone next year.”

A month from now, really. It looms over him, a ticking clock that chimes every evening, telling him he’s wasted another day if it wasn’t with her.

“Oh!” Her head snaps upright, cheeks flushed. “I-- I guess. I didn’t really think...” She bites her lip; he wants to kiss it. “Mitsuhide won’t be here either!”

He blinks. It’s true, but he’s never actually thought about that. Mitsuhide has always been in the house, it seems, never the president but a calming influence just to the side of him, and now--

Well, it’ll just be him and Kiki next year. And the rest of the frat, of course, plus all the new pledges.

Still, the future is distinctly more lonely than he’d like.

“He’ll be close, though,” he says, if only to hear the words out loud. “Harvard is a bit of a drive from here, but now that him and Kiki are, you know...”

Banging. That’s what he means to say at least, what he would say if he didn’t, last minute, remember who he was talking to. The last thing he needs is to get a scolding about taking feelings seriously and supporting their friends. Especially when he’d rather be talking about another relationship entirely.

“...Together,” he settles on, and she hums, approving.

“I’m glad that happened.” She rests her chin on her knees, surveying the lawn. Kiki’s abandoned the fireworks committee, instead shooing away the flock of fraters that have congregated around the grill. “They’re good for each other.”

“Made for each other,” he agrees, tickling her shoulder with his thumb. She squirms, a giggle bubbling out from her lips. “Just like...”

Us. He wants to say it, so bad it’s almost an ache, but-- it’s not fair. Not when they’re not really anything, when they can’t be anything, because--

I don’t know if being with me like…like that will be…good for you. I don’t think either of us are ready for that sort of…of attention.

-- Because everything about his life makes things complicated.

“I’m...happy for them,” he says, because he is, because there’s no two people in the world who deserve every bit of goodness they can wring from life more than they do. Even if that leaves him on the outside, again.

“Me too.” Shirayuki smiles, soft and fond, and it’s impossible to believe it’s barely been ten months since he met her, that she isn’t someone he’s known his whole life, not when she just slips seamlessly into every part.

Her hand reaches out, taking his, cool in the evening breeze. “I’ll miss you too.”

His breath catches in his chest, painful. Maybe she feels so familiar because he’s been waiting for her his whole life, too.

“I-I mean, all of you, of course,” she stammers, pink flooding her cheeks, and oh, he wishes he could just lean over now and kiss her, like he was some normal boy with a normal crush and normal expectations of privacy. “I’m excited to go, but...it won’t be the same without everyone.”

Good. He smothers a grin. This whole trip is a great opportunity for her, he knows that-- how could he not, when Izana keeps reminding him about the connections she’ll make-- but--

Two years seems excessive. After a year, she’ll realize that too. And then she can come back for senior year, live in the frat, graduate, spend the summer with him in the Vineyard, and--

“We should do something together,” she says, fingers knotted around his, shoulders rounded shyly.

“Yes!” he blurts out, squeezing way too hard. “Definitely”

“All of us!”

“Ah...” That wasn’t what he thought she was going for. “I mean...”

“One last big adventure.” Her lips spread giddily. “Just the five of us. For now, of course,” she adds, “we’ll be coming back.”

“Oh, ah...” He blinks, staring down at where her hands are tangled with his. She has little over a month left here, and what he really wants is to be doing this, this whole...being together thing, but--

But it’s not like this is going anywhere either. Two years is a long time, but they’ll be sitting here just like this when she gets back. Well-- with more kissing, he hopes.

He can wait. He’s not the only one who will miss her. “Yeah, that sounds...nice.”

His eyes flick up, catching her just as she sinks teeth into the soft pillow of her lip, leaving a dent that begs to be soothed. Zen swallows, hard.

Well, a friendly getaway will have its opportunities for some, ah, private time too. He just has to create them.

“I was thinking,” he starts, lifting a hand to ruffle his hair, trying to be, you know, casual. “What if we--?”

“Hey.” Kiki perches herself across from them with a deftness that says she’s been hanging out with Obi too much. “Burgers are off the grill.”

“Great,” Zen grits out with a glare. “We’ll be down in a minute.”

Kiki hums, brow raising dubiously. “What are you two up to out here?”

“Nothing.” He glowers at her, wishing she would just take a hint. “Just talking.”

“Ah.” Her mouth twitches. “I see.”

“We were just talking about taking a trip!” Shirayuki blurts out excitedly, red-faced and glowing. “All of us! One last adventure before me and Obi go to Lyrias.”

Kiki blinks at that, cocking her head. “What were you thinking?”

“Oh, um, I don’t know.” A giggle burst nervously from her as she smooths the hem of her shorts over her thighs. “We hadn’t really gotten that far.”

All right, it’s time to drag this conversation back on track. Zen clears his throat. “Kiki, doesn’t your dad have that house in the Berkshires? We could go for a weekend, maybe take in the--”

“Why? We’re already in western Mass. What will a forty minute drive get us?” She wrinkles her nose. “It isn’t even peak foliage season.”

Privacy, he wants to say, but he knows how poorly that idea would fly with her. For someone who always seems to find time to be alone with her boytoy, Kiki’s awfully invested in seeing that he never has any with his girl...thing.

“Hm, I wasn’t really think a trip-trip either,” Shirayuki admits, crushing his dreams of a nice afternoon alone in a hammock, just the two of them and their bathing suits. “But something like an, ah...activity. Like an amusement park.” She perks. “Do you have something like that out here?”

“Six Flags!” he blurts out before he can even consider what he’s saying. “It’s only a half hour away, and the coasters are supposed to be some of the best. I mean, if you, ah, like that sort of thing.”

Which he doesn’t, but there’s really no need to mention that. Not when she lights up like she does, hands clapping together over her heart.

“That sounds perfect! I’ve never been to one of those.” She leans in, conspiratorial. “Opa always got vertigo on the Turkish Twist.”

He may not know what that thing is, but it sounds gut-wrenching enough to keep in head in the trash for a good ten minutes. Zen plasters a smile on his face, steadfastly ignoring the arch look Kiki gives him-- god, that’s the last thing he needs, Kiki deciding it would be funny to tell the story of when they rode the Tower of Terror in middle school-- and says, “I’ll go on any ride you want.”

Kiki makes an unearthly noise, somewhere between a cough and a choke, and he braces for it, for the you know, Zen can tell you the location of every trashcan in Hollywood Studios--

“When were you thinking?” she says instead, mouth just barely twitching at the corner. “It’s going to be busy this weekend.”

“Oh!” Shirayuki’s eyes round, matching the curve of her mouth. “I didn’t think of that. It doesn’t have to be right now. Maybe in another...week? Or so?”

Kiki whips out her phone, flicking through with one finger. “How about...the seventeenth?”

“Ah...” Shirayuki squints, eyes rolling upward like her brain is an open book she can skim for answers. “Y-yes. I think that’s all right.”

Zen stares. “Did you just...pick a random date?”

“No.” Kiki clicks her screen off, slipping it back into her pocket. “This weekend will still have traffic from the fourth. Next week we’re supposed to submit our paperwork to the student affairs office for this semester, and I know you haven’t started. I don’t want to go during a weekend rush, and Thursday is far into the week where if we have any last second problems with student affairs, we won’t have to reschedule.” She holds out a hand, ta-da. “The seventeenth.”

It’s not fair how she can just...do all that. “W-well, all right. But we still have to make sure that Obi and Mitsuhide--”

“Hey, Obi,” Kiki calls out, catching his attention as he cuts across the lawn toward them. “What are you doing on July seventeenth?”

In full sunlight, in the view of every member of the frat, Obi stumbles over absolutely nothing. “W-what?”

“July seventeenth.” she repeats archly as he slinks up beside her, arms resting on the rail. “Are you doing anything.”

When he thinks of Obi at rest, he thinks of languid limbs, of a frustratingly canted smile and glittering eyes, but--

He’s not any of that now. His troublesome mouth lays in a tense line, the corners of his eyes creased and wary. “Why?”

“We want to go somewhere, all five of us,” Shirayuki informs him giddily, mouth stretching from ear to hear. “And Zen suggested Six Flags--”

“Oh no.” He holds up his hands, shaking his head. “No way. Hard pass. I don’t do amusement parks.”

Kiki arches a brow, unimpressed. “Is that so.”

“Yeah.” He tosses his head, mouth straining towards casual derision and falling short. “Not my scene.”

“Oh really.” The mild look Kiki levels at him had leveled lesser men, but Obi only flinches. “Too cool for them, huh?”

His shoulders twitch. “Sure, we’ll go with that.”

“Ohh,” Zen grins, enjoying the way Obi squirms like a cat with his head caught in a fence. “So you mean that’s not really the reason? You have some other secret, terrible Bugs Bunny trauma in your past, maybe?”

“Well, I have to tell you,” Obi says loftily, “I’ve never really cared for Yosemite Sam.”

Shirayuki frowns. “We really don’t have to--”

“I think we all know this is just to obscure your Lola Bunny fetish,” Kiki deadpans.

“Excuse me?” Obi presses a hand to his chest, aghast. “Space Jam is a formative experience. To say any of us don’t owe Lola Bunny--”

“Hey.” Mitsuhide hops up the steps, wiping the sweat pouring down his neck. Zen valiantly doesn’t notice how Kiki stares. “The burgers have been done for a bit. What’s keeping all of you?”

“Obi is allergic to fun,” Kiki informs him, earning a shocked gasp from Obi.

“That’s not it!” he protests. “You just want to go to Six Flags--”

“Oh, Six Flags!” Mitsuhide’s mouth break into a guileless grin. “I love amusement parks.”

Obi stares, jaw slack. “Big Guy, don’t do this to me...”

Zen grins. “I dunno, Obi. Looks like you’re outvoted.”

Shirayuki shifts beside him, wringing her hands. “Oh no, I don’t think-- if Obi doesn’t want to go, we can just pick--”

“Nah.” Obi waves her off, one hand clasping at his shoulder. “You guys can do what you want. I’ll just sit this one out.”

“Obi--”

“I better check in on Shiira,” he says, stilted. “Don’t want them blowing up the front forty by accident.”

Shirayuki half stands, but it’s too late, he’s already sauntering away, laughing at he calls out to the brothers on the lawn.

“Don’t worry, Shirayuki.” Mitsuhide assures her with a clap on her shoulder. “He’ll come around.”

“I...” Zen watches the way her mouth sets, too knowing, a grim white line cutting through the flush of her face. “I don’t know about that.”

[heartjwi]

the boy next door » zhong chenle

GENRE | neighbor!au + fluff

SUMMARY | he’s team captain and you’re on the bleachers. you watched as the perfect boy run around wishing he was yours and little did you know he was hoping for the same thing.

A/N | bro jock!chenle,,, i’m gone + this sounds like a cheesy netflix movie and i’m here for it and yes its inspired by taylor swift what about it ++ happy late birthday my dude

zhong chenle, the boy next door. 

it’s hard to hate him. i mean, why would you hate on someone who was literally sent by the heavens?

your story starts with moving into the new neighborhood. you remember it like it was just yesterday. you held your stuff that was kept in a box and stared at the tall doors in front of you. “cheers to new beginnings” you whispered to yourself. 

a boy suddenly appears within your vision. you jumped, almost dropping your box but thanks to the boy’s fast reflex, he caught the box in time. but also brushing your hands by accident. “oh! sorry about that” the boy apologises, a nervous grin plastered on his face. you let out a cheery laugh, making the boy’s ears perk up. “it’s fine, no biggie” you smiled. 

the boy smiles back and holds out his hand for you to shake. “i’m guessing you’re new. i’m chenle by the way” you looked at his hand then back to him again for a bit. it took a moment for chenle to realize that you were still holding the box. “jesus christ” he reacts, taking the box away from your hands. “thank you” you laughed, “i’m y/n.” 

due to chenle’s friendly personality, it didn’t take a while for the two of you to become friends. here he was in your room, helping you with your stuff. 

“so where does this go?” chenle asks, picking up a box filled with funko pops. “over there beside my vanity” you point towards an empty shelf. chenle scoots over to the shelf and opens the box. he let out a small gasp. you turned your attention to him, “what?” you ask.

“you have such a collection” he says in awe, taking a funko pop out of the box. you felt your cheeks redden. “uh yeah, it’s a hobby of mine to collect, what about you? what’s your collection?” you ask. chenle grins, “i collect basketball shoes. you should see them sometime” he says smugly. “will do” you giggled.

—

“is that all of them?” chenle looks down at you, wiping the sweat on his forehead. “yep, that’s all of them!” you clapped your hands excitedly. “my room is finally finished!” you squealed, satisfied with the outcome of everything. this was your ultimate dream room. “heck yeah!” you turn to chenle and gave him a high five.

“oh shit i forgot but mom told me to tell you that you and your family are invited tonight” he tells you casually, holding the door knob on the front door. “what for?” you ask. chenle rolls his eyes playfully, “well duh? to meet the new neighbors aka you” he ruffles your hair. “hey!” you slapped his hand away. “i’ll get going now since it’s time to play some hoops. i’ll see you later okay?” he opens the door and jogs out, waving at you. 

“see you” you smiled to yourself, watching chenle run back to his house. ‘i think i’m gonna like it here’ you thought to yourself after spending the whole afternoon decorating your room with chenle. 

you and your family reached the zhong household. his mom opened the door and welcomed you with open arms. “welcome to the neighborhood” she envelops you into a warm hug and leads you guys to the dining area where his dad was waiting in.

“so you must be mr. and mrs. (l/n)!” chenle’s dad shakes your parents’ hands. “and you must be their daughter, y/n.. am i right?” his dad laughs, also shaking your hand. you nod and got into your seat after your parents. “my son helped you move in your things right? he’s such a helpful kid.” his dad continues, smiling at the thought of his son helping around.

“yep. he stayed for the entire afternoon to help me move my stuff in” you smiled. as on cue, chenle walks in all sweaty in his basketball jersey. “oh hey you made it!” he grins, bouncing the ball around the kitchen floor. “chenle! what did i say about playing inside!” his mom shrieks, shooing him away after giving her a kiss on the cheek. “and go take a shower! don’t you see we have guests over?” his mom continues to scold him. 

chenle laughs and complies anyway. “sorry about that. he’s so playful” his mother laughs, places down the main dish for tonight. chenle walks in a little later, fresh showered with some sweats on. he sits next to you and starts a conversation.

“it’s gonna get boring in here in a few since mom and dad are gonna tell the history of this neighborhood or something so it’s better if we head upstairs or to the theater room” chenle whispers to you. your eyes widened at the part he says ‘theater room’

did i mention the moment you walked in his house it was twice as large as your house next door?

his mom announces that it was time to eat and a little after that, the adults started to have a conversation on their own. “told ya. let’s head upstairs” chenle whispers again. chenle stands up from his seat and excuses himself. “y/n and i are gonna head upstairs” he tells no one in particular. he grabs your hand and drags you up the stairs.

you two stop at a door with a popcorn sticker on it. “what movie do you wanna see?” he turns his attention to you. “anything” you reply. “let’s watch ‘we’re the millers’” he opens the door and inside was a giant tv screen with multiple comfy sofas.

“jesus christ dude” you react in awe. chenle smirks at your reaction. “now you can come over whenever you’d like!” he tells you excitedly. you sat in the middle row, having the seat all to yourself as chenle plops down on the bean bags right in front of the tv.

chenle grabs the remote and opens netflix. you winced at the bright screen and adjusted your eyes to it. chenle finally found the movie and played it.

—

you felt your eyes go heavy the more you watch the movie due to the cold atmosphere their ac provided and of course the ever so comfortable sofa you were lying on. you decided it would be nice to rest your eyes for a bit and with that, you fell into deep slumber. the last thing you remember was feeling someone drape a throw blanket on top of you before you were knocked out. 

chenle woke you up a little later telling you that your parents left. you sat up in the couch, mind still a little hazy after that good nap you just had. remembering you weren’t in your own house, you quickly finger combed your hair and wiped any possible drool you had. chenle laughs at your reaction, muttering “cute” before accompanying you back to your house.

“you didn’t watch the movie” chenle pouts, walking you to your house. “i already watched it a million times” you laughed. “i’m guessing you won’t be sleeping anytime soon since you just took a nap” he nudges you on the shoulder. “i guess you’re right” you grin. chenle whips out his phone and hands it to you. “give me your number we’ll be late night text buddies” 

you typed in your number and you asked him to do the same thing. you two finally reached your house. “i’ll see you in school?” chenle hopes. you nod. “goodnight chenle” you smile at him before entering inside your house. “goodnight y/n! see you tomorrow” he chirps, walking back to his place.

first day of school doesn’t sound that bad anymore

you made sure to wake up extra early for your first day in school. you prepared all your stuff the night before due to you taking a nap hours before. here you were sipping on your first cup of iced coffee for the day and going to your new school. 

you entered the school and felt eyes were on you. you were the new kid on the block after all. you got your schedule and your locker number. you managed to find your locker earlier than expected and placed your the books you didn’t need inside. 

when you closed the door, you see chenle leaning on the lockers making you jump. “jesus christ chenle” you put a hand on your chest. “hi” he greets. you looked at the people passing by the hallway and they seem to be staring at you and chenle. you looked at chenle’s outfit and noticed he was wearing a varsity jacket.

“like what you see?” chenle laughs, striking a pose. you pushed his shoulder lightly. “i was observing what you are.. and based on my observations you’re a jock” you laugh. chenle shrugs, “i guess? let me give you a tour around school” chenle grabs your hand and drags you else where.

—

thankfully you have all your classes with chenle and despite being late in class on the first day of school, your teachers gave you a pass today but for chenle’s case, apparently it was his last and final warning. now the two of you were heading to the cafeteria.

“i swear that teacher just hates me” chenle dramatically sighs, almost pulling a troy bolton in the middle of the hallway. “well maybe you’re just a slowpoke” you joked. chenle sent a death glare towards your direction. you held up your hands in defense. “chill” 

chenle then leads you towards a specific table where you see around 5 boys were sitting in. “yo chenle!” one boy calls. “WHO IS THAT WITH HIM” another yells. “jesus christ hyuck. tone it down a bit” another butts in, smacking the boy who yelled earlier. 

“don’t mind them, it’s normal for them to hit each other” chenle whispers as you two approach the table. “hey guys” chenle greets, giving the 5 boys a bro hug. “this my new friend AND neighbor, y/n” chenle introduces to you to the 5 boys. “hi” “hello” they chorused.

you memorized the guys’ names and sat in between chenle, jaemin and hyuck while jisung, renjun and jeno sat in front of you. “so y/n” renjun opens a conversation. “how was your first day so far?” he asked. you looked at chenle who was looking right back at you before answering. “well, chenle showed me around and got us late but since i was new, the teachers let me off the hook but sadly for our chenle, he was given his last warning” you explained.

the boys burst out laughing and started teasing chenle. “you guys shut up!” chenle whines making the boys tease him even more.

within one month, you managed to fit in and made a new circle of friends which consisted of renjun, jeno, haechan, jaemin, chenle and jisung. they enjoyed your company as much as you enjoyed theirs. everything was great and was falling into place.

you also learned that chenle was in fact the team captain of the school’s basketball team. you’ve been to his games and even practices during weekends. making people speculate that you two were a couple.

“are you sure you and chenle aren’t dating?” jisung asked for the nth time tonight. “again jisung, no we’re not” you affirmed, hugging your body from the cold breeze “yeah right, you’re even wearing his hoodie that he wore earlier today just before the game started” jisung murmurs. “jisung i will smack you” you threatened. jisung raises his hands up in defense, “oh i’m so scared” he mocks. 

“hello children” jaemin and jeno slides in beside the two of you. “what are you two doing?” jeno chuckles, looking at your angry face. “he said that i’m dating chenle when i’m not!” you pointed fingers at jisung. “you’re not dating him?” they exclaim in unison. you groaned, putting on the hood from chenle’s hoodie and pulling the strings to hide your face.

—

your school’s team won thanks to chenle and everyone decided to go celebrate at his house since his parents were out of town. chenle rode with his team while the rest of you packed into jaemin’s convertible and sped off back to his place.

by the time you reached his house, it was already filled with students. you all walked inside to see people drinking and chenle was no where to be seen. “okay so, for jisung and y/n, no drinking” renjun announces. “i wasn’t planning to anyway” you muttered, jisung shrugs and doesn’t say anything else. “also jeno you’re on driver duty” renjun adds. jeno whines but nods anyway. 

chenle suddenly appeared out of no where by surprising you from behind. “boo!” he grabs your waist making you scream. you latched onto jisung out of embarrassment when you realized it was just chenle. “scaredy cat” chenle teases you. you rolled your eyes at him and poked your tongue out. 

“congrats my dude” haechan comes forward and gives him a hug. “stephen curry is shaking in his boots” haechan exclaimed making everyone laugh as per usual. “well anyway, thank you guys for coming” chenle expresses his gratitude. “no, thank YOU for winning the game” jaemin slaps him on the back and makes kissy faces in front of chenle, making him cringe. “ew hyung” 

hours later, everyone in the group slowly bounced. jisung went home early since he was bored and chenle was busy talking to other people leaving you alone since jeno, jaemin, renjun and hyuck were all drinking. 

you sat by the pool area they had. since there was almost no people here which you were thankful for. it was hella noisy inside that you couldn’t even hear your own voice. you stared at your reflection on the pool and just started daydreaming.

—

chenle was entertaining almost everyone in his house. each person congratulating him for his winning shot but something still feels empty within him. he suddenly remembered that he hasn’t talked to you all night and suddenly feels guilty about it.

he looked around his enormous house to look for you but nothing. he can’t call jisung since he knows he left earlier cause he was bored. he can’t even ask his four hyungs since they were all drinking downstairs. feeling defeated, chenle walks back to the kitchen to grab himself some punch where he was approached by minhee. 

chenle was minhee’s long time crush. she liked him since third grade and the fact that their families were already close friends to begin with, it was hard to avoid her. it was obvious that minhee likes chenle but chenle just likes to pretend he never knew about her crush on him.

“hey lele” minhee smiles widely at chenle. chenle stands awkwardly while pouring himself some punch. “hey min” he greets casually. “congrats on the game by the way, i was watching the entire time” minhee starts a conversation. chenle nods slowly, looking at the window, wondering where you were. “so i was thinking if you could accompany me to the movies tomorrow? to watch the latest movie out” 

chenle cringes knowing it was her way to ask him out. “oh, i’m sorry min but i have things to do tomorrow” chenle declines as nice as possible without hurting her feelings. minhee, feeling dejected smiles sadly. “oh.. okay” 

chenle suddenly sees the back of your head by the pool, instantly he felt relieved seeing you still around. “i’ll get going now minhee. see you around” chenle waves goodbye to his friend before making his way to the pool.

—

you felt presence behind you. you turned around and see it was chenle. “what are doing out here alone hmm?” he smiles down at you, before sitting right next to you. “it’s quiet here, it’s peaceful” you reply, smiling to yourself. chenle hums, “well, i was looking for you” your heart skipped a beat when you heard him say that. “well, you found me” 

after talking to chenle for awhile, you started feeling sleepy, you rested your head on his shoulder making him freeze. “congrats by the way” you murmured. chenle didn’t say anything but he rested his head on top of yours. 

“let’s get you home okay?” chenle mumbled, pulling you up with him. “okay” you giggled. chenle leads you out of his backyard and walks you home again.

after that night, you and chenle were closer than ever.

you started going to school with chenle. his parents finally allowed him to use the car and now chenle picks you up and drops you off everyday. 

“did anyone drop you off last saturday night?” jaemin, being the mother figure he is, was concerned for your well being. “yeah. chenle walked me home” you inform him. everyone in the table stopped eating and eyed you and chenle suspiciously. “what” chenle blurts.

before anyone could react, minhee suddenly sat beside chenle. “hey” she greets everyone. everyone’s attention turned to minhee at that very moment. “uh hello?” renjun eyes her down. “what are you doing here?” jisung asked. minhee looked at him like he was crazy. “can i not sit here?” she claimed. 

“we’re not even your friends” hyuck murmured, loud enough for you to hear making you burst out laughing. “what’s so funny?” minhee looked at you and hyuck specifically. “nothing” you say quickly, making her raise her brow at you.

“oh i haven’t met you yet, who are you?” she asked yet again. ‘does this girl even stop asking?’ you thought to yourself, blowing a strand of hair away from your face. “i think you haven’t. i’m y/n” you introduced yourself. “oh, i’m minhee if you didn’t know.” she holds her hand out for you to shake which you blatantly ignored.

“i’m chenle’s girlfriend by the way” she suddenly claims making everyone in the table stop what they were doing. your heart sank to your stomach and without a second thought, you stood up and walked away with jisung following close behind. 

chenle spat out his drink alongside everyone else in the table. “what the fuck did you just say.” hyuck screams before erupting into laughter. “minhee, what the hell i don’t even like you” chenle stands up. at this point by standers were watching the entire thing go down. minhee also stands up and tried to hold chenle’s arm but he just swatted her away.

“you fucked up big time, minhee. let’s just get this straight. i don’t fucking like you” chenle defends himself. it was hard not to hurt minhee’s feelings but he needed to set things straight with his childhood friend. minhee scoffs and runs away in embarrassment. 

chenle sits back down and releases the air he’s been holding in. “wait.. where’s y/n and jisung?” chenle notices two empty spots around him. jeno points towards the open cafeteria door. “fuck” chenle mutters before running after the two of you. 

—

“i don’t like him.. i really don’t..” you paced around the hallway while jisung was watching you like a madman. “but why am i so hurt at the fact he has a girlfriend” you rambled on. you turned to jisung and shook his shoulders. “tell me, this is normal right? i just care for him hehe” you tried to convince yourself you didn’t like chenle. 

“listen, it’s so painfully obvious how much you two like each other. with the whole neighbor scenario too like you fall in love with your cute next door neighbor. i used to read that back in the day but i didn’t expect for it to happen to my own friends. so just do us all a favor and confess your feelings to him” jisung advised, rubbing your shoulder in a friendly manner. 

you pushed his hand away and buried your head to his chest. “but- do i like him or do i like like him.. this is hard” you whined. “he has a girlfriend too”

“she’s not my girlfriend” chenle butts in your conversation. you snap your head towards his direction. “told you” jisung huffs. you shushed jisung and didn’t dare to make eye contact with chenle. “okay that’s good to know” you laughed nervously as you hear chenle’s footsteps get closer.

chenle moves you away from jisung and gives you a hug. “just for the record, i like like you too” he whispers into your hair making your face red as a tomato.

[baepsaets]

The Call

(a/n: thank you all for 4k, and happy birthday jk! to celebrate, here’s a oneshot i’ve had typed out for a bit but didn’t want to post just yet. i’m working on a collection of oneshots that will all loosely be connected, all of them frat!jungkook related. they are all stand-alone, although they exist in the same universe).

summary: the only time you take the obnoxious frat boy from your chemistry class seriously is when he calls to tell you your close friend is having a bad trip at a party.

warnings: drug use mention (but not jk or the reader - and yes, this drabble is inspired by a true story. party safe lovelies!), enemies to friends to lovers (but just the friends part in this fic) (although jk is jealous lmao)

Frat Drabble: 4.3k

Your bare feet pounded on concrete as you ran down the block, glancing at your phone to check the time. It had been three minutes since Jeon Jungkook had called you from your friend’s phone.

It was a Friday night, which meant you’d had a hot date with your couch and Netflix, enjoying the time you got the spend alone while your roommate went out. When your friend had called you half-past midnight while you were in the middle of your latest binge, you’d been surprised, but answered anyway. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Uh, (Y/N)?”

Your blood went sluggish. The voice on the other end of the phone was male, and definitely didn’t belong to your friend. “Who is this?”

“It’s Jungkook. From Chem 201?”

Jeon Jungkook. The current bane of your existence—or at least, the bane of your chemistry class. He was seated next to you, and with an assigned seating chart, there was no way to avoid him.

The two of you had admittedly started off on the wrong foot. He’d caught you in a bad mood, but then had matched that mood with his own. But it wasn’t your fault that he was completely intolerable. Just a stupid, smug frat guy. He was probably going to school on his dad’s paycheck and didn’t care about failing. He certainly didn’t care about passing, from what you’d seen of his test results before he’d shoved them into his cluttered backpack.

It had all happened because he’d sat in your seat. From then on, it was like the guy had developed a special grudge against you. And you, who was a good student—you, who had to work hard to maintain a scholarship. You—who was sarcastic and could come off as a little bitchy—yes, you—were all too willing to respond in kind.

First, it had been the man-spreading. Jeon Jungkook sat like he had the biggest elephant nuts of the century. He sat with one leg pressed against you, the other stretched out lax in front of him. It was the touching that bothered you. Jungkook created heat like a furnace, and you didn’t like being touching by people you didn’t know or like. So, you scrunched away from him, curling around the other armrest until your other seat neighbor glared at the both of you. Your row already had such limited space. It was a lecture hall, for God’s sake.

Not to mention all the women that flocked to his seat. You’d had to ask more than one girl to move after coming into class and finding them surrounding him, like he was God’s gift to women. As if. Sure, the guy was nice to look at, but he knew it, and his confidence bordered on an arrogance that made your blood boil. It only got worse when he watched you shoo them away—smirking, knowing it annoyed you. A type of smirk that said, “Don’t you wish you were them?”

No, you self-assured motherfucker. Quit looking at me like that.

Then, it had been the pen clicking—fuck, the pen clicking. Murder was imminent. By the second week, Jungkook had figured out that you hated pen clicking, so that’s exactly what he did.

After that came the Hydroflask Incident. Namely, Jungkook had spilled almost his entire hydroflask on your backpack. That was the worst one. All of your surrounding seatmates had gasped in horror and let you used their desks to air out your papers, which were almost soaked. Luckily, you hadn’t had any textbooks in your backpack at the time. Jungkook had apologized for that one, even looked a little guilty, but it didn’t matter—Jeon Jungkook was obviously the scum of the universe, and you would never accept any apology from him even if he begged you on his knees. He was trash, and that was that. You didn’t waste time on trash.

His face flashed in your mind—wide-eyed, soft-lipped. Why was he calling you from your friend’s phone? They weren’t hooking up, were they? The thought filled you with unexpected horror. “Where’s (Y/Fr/N)?”

There was a deep sigh. It really wasn’t fair that he sounded so good over the phone—everyone sounded ugly over the phone. It was the law! “Listen—she’s in pretty bad shape right now. She came to a party at my frat house and she ended up—maybe taking something?”

You sat up straight on the couch. (Y/Fr/N)? Yeah, she did some wild shit, but she’d never been a drug user. Hell, she’d tried pot back in high school and hadn’t even liked it.

“Taking something? Like what?”

“Uh—shrooms?”

You jaw dropped. Whatever Netflix show you’d been watching turned into static background noise. “What?”

“It was an accident! She was drunk and I think some guy offered her some, and she ate them without realizing it. I’ve got her cornered in my bedroom, but she’s having a really bad trip.”

That was all it took to get you scrambling to your feet. You were wearing a loose shirt and panties, but you tugged on a useless pair of sleep shorts while keeping the phone pressed to your ear with your shoulder.

“Do we need to call 911? Does she need a hospital—?”

“It’s not that bad—,”

“Not that bad? How do you know that? What if it was laced with something and she dies?”

This was so fucking typical. Jeon Jungkook, frat guy extraordinaire, not caring about a girl getting drugged in his own house. Why even call if he was going to act like it wasn’t a big deal?

“It’s not—,”

“This is your frat house, Jungkook! You’re responsible for what happens in it!”

“I fucking know that!” he finally snapped. You went silent in shock. “I know that, okay? We’re all freaking out right now and we already shut down the party! Jesus, Jimin broke that guy’s nose once we found out! I’m calling you because while I was looking through her phone to find someone to come help us, your name was the only one I recognized.”

You bit your lip, chastened. “What’s the address?”

“I’ll text it to you right now. Just—get here soon, okay? I’m afraid she’ll hurt herself.”

This was your worst nightmare, you realized. Something bad like this happening to someone you loved. You didn’t open up easy, so the people you did care about, you cared about hard.

“Has she thrown up?”

“I thought about making her, but I’ll be honest, I don’t know how to handle a situation like this. Alcohol and weed are the only stuff we allow on our property, so whoever this guy was, he snuck in.”

You slipped on your flipflops and dashed out the door. You were surprised to see Jungkook’s frat house was only several blocks away. Perfect, because you didn’t want to wait for an Uber, if you were even lucky enough to find one at this hour. You ran a hand through your hair and tried to shape it into something presentable. Had you showered today? No, you hadn’t. But that didn’t matter.

“Just—sit with her until I get there. Please.”

“I already have been,” he said, surprisingly gentle. “I got her some water and tried to get her to eat, but she wouldn’t take anything from me. She can’t recognize any of us, and she’s scared to death. That’s why I decided to call a friend in her phone. I don’t know anything about her family and didn’t want to immediately call the police and get us all busted. The guy swore up and down it was just shrooms before we kicked him out.”

“Maybe the police are what that guy deserves,” you huffed, pressing the button for the elevator. You lived on the seventh floor and planned to sprint the entire way there, so you might as well conserve your energy.

His silence was telling, until, “If she wants to contact the police after this, we’ll help her.”

Your jaw dropped. You knew damn well that half the people that went to his frat’s parties were underaged, drunk and maybe worse. Calling the police would get everyone in a lot of shit. Some of them might even get expelled, arrested.

Frankly, you had expected him to beg you not to let that happen. His easy compliance shocked you.

Along with his easy compliance, his compassion shocked you as well. He said he’d been trying to care for your friend before calling you, which was more than you expected from some random frat guy who didn’t know her from Eve. A surprisingly kind gesture, from someone who had only shown you distain.

“Well,” you grunted, after collecting yourself. “We’ll see what she says. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

You hung up without another word. The elevator was approaching the first floor, and when it opened, you sprinted out of the lobby and down the street, following the path Google Maps had given you.

You were completely out of breath by the time you found his frat. You’d lost your flipflops somewhere after the first block. It was an old, big house—almost mansion-like. Beer bottles and plastic cups were littered across the lawn, signs of a party ended too quickly. You bounded to the front door and knocked loudly.

No reply. You knocked again, longer. Nothing. You were ready to try the door handle when it turned, and the door was pulled back.

A hard-faced and intimidating boy opened the door an inch. He looked young, but still a little older than Jungkook. He stared at you in frustrated annoyance.

“We said the party’s over.”

“I’m (Y/Fr/N)’s friend,” you panted. “Jungkook called me.”

Immediately, the boy’s face morphed into one of relief. He swung open the door, and you realized he had bright blue hair. “Thank God. I’m sorry. I thought you were here for the party.”

Your lip curled in disgust at the though. “Well, I’m not. Excuse me.”

You shouldered him out of the way a bit, taking in the space. It was definitely a frat house. It smelled like an aging brewery. There were several other men in the room who openly stared at you. For a moment, you were embarrassed by your attire, but the moment passed quickly.

“Where’s Jungkook?” you asked the room. Several of them pointed to a staircase in the corner. “Thank you.”

You took the stairs two at a time before almost running into someone at the top. He must have been waiting for you. For the first time, the sight of Jeon Jungkook filled you with complete joy and relief. His face, in comparison, was more shocked and horrified.

“Jesus, (Y/N)—where are your shoes?”

“Where is she?”

“You’re barely dressed—,”

“Jungkook.”

He sighed, accepting defeat. “She’s in my room, this way.”

Jungkook led you down the dark and empty hallway until you came to a door. It had several posters hanging on it, but you didn’t know of what. He pressed his ear to the door for a moment to listen before finally opening it, sensing your worried impatience.

The light was off. You got a sense of a modest-sized space, painted a dark color. There was a desk with a wicked gaming center set up on it, a dresser, and—there, a bed. You could see a shapeless lump on it that turned into a person the harder you stared.

“Hey, (Y/Fr/N),” you said, soothingly. She was curled up in a ball at the foot of the bed, head buried in the blanket. You turned to Jungkook. “Could you give us some privacy?”

His face creased. “She might get violent.”

“That’s okay, I’ll be fine.”

Your friend looked up when she started to register your voice, and said, “(Y/N)!”

She scrambled off the bed and threw herself at you. Jungkook tensed, and moved almost as if to defend you, but all your friend did was collapse in your embrace and begin to sob. She blubbered something, but you couldn’t make out what she was saying. You were certain it had something to do with whatever hallucinations her bad trip was producing.

Jungkook looked at her guiltily. “Has she ever taken anything like this?”

“She’s smoked some weed, but nothing more serious.”

You led your friend to the bed and helped her lie down, still shaking and sobbing. You held her hand and she gripped you tightly, like she was afraid you would let go.

“It’s okay,” you reassured her, keeping your voice calm and steady without being too sappy. “I know it’s bad right now, but you’re safe. I’m here with you, and this will be over soon.”

You laid down until you were across from her, watching her rock back and forth. You used your thumb to wipe her wet face. “Jungkook—could you bring me some tissues?”

You didn’t look as he left, or when he came back. He handed you a roll of toilet paper.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “It’s all we have.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him, voice still soft. You didn’t see it, but Jungkook’s gaze lingered on you, suddenly struck by your kindness. In class, you were often so cold and reserved. It was startling for him to see you so suddenly and painfully human.

He felt guilty for thinking that. He wasn’t going to lie and pretend he liked you, but he didn’t not like you, which you seemed to assume.

It was like you purposefully made yourself hard to get along with. Jungkook was an easygoing guy—maybe a little introverted, but friendly, at least. At first, he’d thought you were that way too. Until he very quickly realized you were just stuck-up and mean.

Well, that was harsh. You weren’t mean, and if you were, it was because he messed with you. To be honest, he couldn't actually pinpoint exactly why he liked doing that. Sometimes, it was just nice to get underneath your skin. To see your perfect composure crack, with just the clicking of his pen.

He just wished you didn’t look at him like he was a bug to be squished underneath your shoe.

Jungkook didn’t consider himself a frat guy, whatever that was. He was a guy, and he was in a frat. Why did putting those two together suddenly erase every other part of his personality? Before, he was Jeon Jungkook—kind, honest, handsome, talented, funny. But now, he’s Jeon Jungkook—frat guy.

That was the only part you seemed to care about. Why should he be compelled to think any kinder about you? To him, you were just a judgmental, possibly even cold-hearted classmate.

But that was before—before he saw you like this. Before he watched you wipe snot from your friend’s nose with your sleeve when the toilet paper wasn’t doing the job. He sank to the floor, mollified with the knowledge that your friend probably wasn't going to attack you at any given moment.

You wiped the snot from your friend’s nose, and the drool from her mouth. You tried to wipe off her smudged and running makeup as best as you could. She was still sniffling, eyes shut tight like she was afraid to open them.

After what must have been at least an hour, her trembling stopped. Her hand was lax in your own, and her breathing evened out. She had finally, finally fallen asleep, while you murmured reassurances into the still space between her face and your own.

You observed her, making sure she didn’t look sick or sallow. Making sure she was still breathing. Your own eyes were dry and stinging, but you weren’t tired enough to sleep. Another half-hour went by like this, until you felt confident enough to extract her hand from your own and carefully climb off the bed.

Your body was slightly sore, and you turned to stretch—and saw Jungkook asleep by the door, body slumped forward.

You stopped. He looked softer in his sleep. His face was suddenly round and painfully young. His mouth was open slightly, air whistling between his lips. His hair was stuck up in front from constantly running his hand through it, and his skin was paler—too pale. His dark circles stood out. He was still wearing jeans and a t-shirt, which you assumed he’d been wearing at the party.

A glance at your phone confirmed that it was only three in the morning. You walked back around the bed and covered your friend with the blanket, making sure she was comfortable. You gently removed her shoes. She snuggled deeper into the pillow, still clinging to sleep.

You moved back toward the door. You crouched down until you were close to Jungkook’s face.

“Hey,” you whispered, reaching out to poke his shoulder gently. He jumped suddenly, whacking his head against the door.

He gasped in pain while you cringed for him. Reaching up, you cradled the back of his head and rubbed gently to help with the pain. It was a sudden, intimate gesture, but you were still in mothering mode. He allowed it, staring sleepily into the dark. You glanced back at your friend to make sure she hadn’t been woken by the thud.

“Can we step outside?” you asked, voice still low. He winced and nodded, climbing unsteadily to his feet. The two of you slipped outside, leaving your friend comfortable and still asleep in the bed.

The hallway was pitch black, but you could see light coming from the bottom of the staircase. Jungkook slipped his hand in your own and led you in that direction. His hand was warm and slightly rough, and you squeezed it subconsciously. He squeezed back. In the darkness of the hallway, so late at night, and after dealing with such a scary and pressing situation, almost nothing felt real—it was almost like a strange dream.

He let go of your hand at the bottom of the staircase. You let him.

A lamp glowed dimly in the corner. In the living room was another boy. You recognized him as the one who had answered the door. He was lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He jerked up when he saw you.

“Is she okay?” he asked, speaking in a whisper. Like it was too late at night and the room was too empty to use a regular speaking voice.

“I think she’ll be fine,” you replied. “She’s gotten past the worst of it, and now she’s asleep. I wanted to grab her a glass of water for when she wakes up.”

You turned toward Jungkook. “Where’s your kitchen?”

The other boy jumped off the couch before he could reply. “I’ll show you.”

“Taehyung,” Jungkook said, lowly. Almost gruffly. His morning voice? “I’ve got it.”

Taehyung stopped and raised an eyebrow. He eyed Jungkook, suspiciously. Something passed between the two of them, but you were too tired and mentally occupied to focus on it.

You tugged on the sleeve of Jungkook’s shirt and demanded, “Kitchen.”

The weird eye contact between Jungkook and Taehyung was broken, and he turned to you. “Yeah, it’s this way.”

He led you, but Taehyung followed anyway. The kitchen was modest and much cleaner than you expected. As if sensing your surprise, Jungkook snorted.

“You really think we’re animals, don’t you?” he asked. He opened a cabinet and grabbed a glass, while you flushed.

“I don’t,” you defended. You were feeling a bit ashamed. You’d thought some harsh things about Jungkook, and even if you hadn’t said them out loud, they still influenced how you’d treated him. Tonight, you’d gotten an opportunity to see a different side of him—one that you hadn’t allowed yourself to see before.

Suddenly, everything he’d ever done to you felt petty. So, what, he clicked his pen? He spilled water on your backpack? What did stuff like that matter? Why had you let it affect you so much?

“Yes, you do,” he replied. “You’re always so quick to think the worst of us.”

“Bold statement to make from a boy whose frat hosted the party my friend was drugged at.”

He and Taehyung winced, but then so did you. You could recognize a low blow, even if you were the one that had delivered it. There must be something wrong with you. Hadn’t you just been thinking you were being a huge bitch?

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, immediately. “I know that’s not the whole picture. I didn’t mean for it to sound that judgmental.”

Jungkook stared, and you flushed. “I mean—I know I can do that. Be more judgmental than I realize. And it’s true that sometimes I’m more inclined to think badly of you. But I know that’s just me being a bitch about it.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Taehyung butted in, drawing your attention and Jungkook’s ire. “This is our frat, and it’s our fault something like this happened. We should be more careful about who we invite and who we let in.”

Taehyung moved until he was standing next to you and continued. “It’s easy to have a negative opinion on frat life. I’m sorry that we had to prove you right tonight.”

Your flush deepened, but this time because of attention instead of embarrassment. Christ, where had Jungkook been hiding such a handsome and well-spoken frat brother? If you’d met him first instead of Jeon, maybe your opinion on frat life wouldn’t be so negative.

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at the interaction. It made his skin tingle and his chest burn. He filled the glass he’d gotten with water and thrusted it toward you. “Here. We should go back up.”

Taehyung looked at him in confusion as you took the glass. “Just stay down here and sleep on the couch with me, man. I was gonna stay to get an early start on cleaning tomorrow morning.” He looked at you suddenly. “What did you say your name was again?”

“She didn’t,” Jungkook said, at the same time you replied, “(Y/N).”

Taehyung smiled. It was boxy. Adorable. “(Y/N) and (Y/Fr/N) can sleep in your bed, and you can sleep down here with me. Right?”

Jungkook frowned. “I’m fine on the floor. I want to be there if something happens.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Jungkook shot you such a sudden glare that your teeth snapped shut. Taehyung eyed him again, except this time in amusement.

“Okay,” he shrugged. He looked back at you and smiled, but there was something more to it—it was playful, teasing. “Thank you for coming over, (Y/N). You’re a devoted friend.”

You smiled at the compliment. “I’m just doing what I’m supposed to do.”

“You’re doing a lot more than a lot of people would be willing,” he corrected, making your smile widen.

“Yeah, she’s great,” Jungkook snapped, sarcastically. “We need to go back.”

You narrowed you eyes at him, but let it go. It was time to let it all go. You were tired of being bitter and thinking you were justified for it. 

The three of you wished each other good night before Jungkook took you back to his room, hand on the small of your back while you climbed the dark staircase. You stopped near the top, where it was still bright enough to see most of his face.

“You okay?” he asked, concerned. You nodded and looked away.

“Yeah, I just—,” and you stopped, unsure. “I’m sorry, I’m so bad at this. But I just feel like I owe you an apology.”

His jaw dropped. “What?”

You sighed. Did he have to be so dramatic? This was already hard for you. “I meant what I said earlier, about thinking the worst of you. When we first met, I was already in a super bad mood. We got off on the wrong foot.” You looked at his face. “I definitely thought you were just some ignorant fuckboy frat guy, but worse than that, I really didn’t try to see you as anything else. I accepted my bad impression of you and let it color my judgment toward everything you did. That was wrong of me.”

You glanced down the hallway, toward his room. “Thank you for calling me. I’m really grateful you were able to take care of (Y/Fr/N) before I got here. You didn’t have to do that. She’s not even your friend.”

Jungkook watched your face closely as you continued. “So, what I’m really trying to say is—I’m sorry for being rude. I’m sorry for not taking the time to get to know you. And I’m sorry for not giving you a chance. It’s a bad reflection of my character. Thank you for putting up with me, and thank you for helping me tonight.”

You waited a bit in stuffy silence. You weren’t sure what you were expecting—for him to laugh in you face, maybe. For him to at least acknowledge your apology. You were getting nervous until he finally said, “I’m sorry, too,”

You let out a surprised noise, and he continued. “You’re not the only guilty one. I did the exact same thing. I didn’t take the time to get to know you because I thought you weren't worth getting to know. I thought you were rude and uptight, and I went out of my way to annoy you because of it. That was wrong of me and I was being a huge dick. It wasn’t until tonight that I saw you as like, an actual person.”

“What did you see me as before?” you asked, slightly amused.

“I don’t know. A robot or something.” At your offended look, he was quick to continue. “But no offense! You’re just always in class, always paying super close attention, never talking. Sometimes, I don’t even think you breathe.”

You tried to find it in yourself to be offended, but then—you laughed. You laughed hard enough to make the water in the glass you were holding slosh precariously, and until finally, Jungkook laughed too.

“Yeah,” you agreed, still chuckling. “I’m sorry. I take myself a little too seriously sometimes.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” he said. “I probably don’t take myself seriously enough. I know I’m goofy, but my grades—,” and here he stopped, grimacing, “—are bad. Really bad. Especially in chemistry.”

“I can help you out, if you want,” you offered. It was time to start wrapping up your conversation. You didn’t want to leave your friend alone for much longer. “We can study together.”

He seemed shocked. “Really?”

“Totally,” you agreed. “I mean, I suck at chemistry too. Maybe we can help each other.”

Jungkook stared at you a moment longer. If seeing you act kind with your friend had been a shocker, this was somehow even worse—seeing you actively friendly. He was certain, after tonight, and after your apology, that your cold and anti-social persona hide a surprisingly welcoming and caring heart. How willfully blind he must have been to have missed it.

Then he smiled, almost shyly. A surprising bunny smile, very different from the smug one he usually wore in class. “Yeah. Maybe we can.”

The two of you went back to his room. He creaked open the door and let you through, closing it behind him. It was still dark, but your eyes were more adjusted. You could hear your friend lightly snoring on the bed, and could make out a lump under the blanket.

As you made your way deeper into the room, Jungkook seated himself by the door again and leaned against it for support. You winced in sympathy for his back.

“I’m sorry you have to sleep on the floor,” you whispered. Jaw clicking, you suppressed a yawn. Maybe you would be able to get some sleep.

“It’s fine.” And then, “I’m used to having plenty of women in my bed.”

You scoffed lightly. Of course he’d say some stupid shit like that right after your heart-to-heart. “Don’t ruin our friendship before it can begin, Jeon.”

“Is that what this is?” he asked. “A friendship?”

“Go to bed.” You set the glass down on the bedside table and climbed in next to your friend. She was still sleeping peacefully, mouth ajar and breathing evenly.

A minute later, once the two of you had settled, you heard a quiet, “Good night, (Y/N).”

Your lip quirked as you tried to suppress a smile. “Good night, Jungkook.

[prettylittlebrownskingyal]

🎂☆ Jason Todd Birthday Week ☆ Aug 16th - JASON’S BIRTHDAY

Dickface Grayson: what do u want for ur bday baby bro?

RedNerd: a big booty hoe

Spawn: same

Wiffle: sksks DAMIAN

The family group chat is usually rather annoying. No one sleeps and no one has boundaries or tact so there’s always three hundred messages and long ass tangents (courtesy of Tim, Damian and sometimes Duke) for Jason to read over his morning coffee.

It’s a big thorn in his ass.

But it’s routine. He’s grown to expect it like he anticipates sunrise, it’s become one of those things on his mental checklist that he can never forget. Those morons keep finding more and more opportunities to weasel their way into his life and it’s so goddamn irritating that he loves it.

Which is why the lack of notifications he wakes up to makes his skin itch in an unscratchable way. His first instinct is to assume something’s wrong because there’s nothing beside that one question from Dick. But as he replies, Damian and Stephanie’s responses follow immediately— he finds relief in knowing their fine but his confusion grows.

He realizes he’s bored.

He has a three day stretch of no plans and he’s so freaking bored he kind of wants to claw his eyes out.

Dickface Grayson: i told y’all asking him wouldn’t work

Dickface Grayson: i. told. y’all.

Timbits: stop with the y’alls

Wiffle: y? cuz it reminds u of connor?

Timbits: fuck off

Wiffle: bite me

Babs: I say, we go with the original plan

Duke☀️: but how are we going to get him to go willingly go to a party?

Spawn: we could knock him out

Timbits: NO

Spawn: and just carry him there

Timbits: Damian I swear to GOD

Dickface Grayson: why can’t we do the surprise party

Wiffle: cuz he’d hate it

Wiffle: and he’d kill us

🐥Cass: let’s just get him a cupcake and call it a day

Spawn: i second that

Spawn: or we could get him an escort

Babs: DAMIAN

Spawn: put it on father’s card

Timbits: as much as I would LOVE to see that

Timbits: we can’t

🐥Cass: add it to the list for next yr dames

Babs: I have work to do, you guys plzzz come up with something.

Dickface Grayson: good luck babs

Dickface Grayson: I say party

Wiffle: i’m going with Cass and the cupcake

🐥Cass: ^^

Dickface Grayson: Damian I see you typing. Don’t say it.

Timbits: he’s Jason guys. he doesn’t want the attention of having to blow out a candle and listen to us butcher happy bday

Timbits: we need something he’d like

Wiffle: let’s just give him his presents

Wiffle: they’re all books anyway

🐥Cass: books and cupcakes

Spawn: no that’s stupid

🐥Cass: ur stupid

Spawn: ur stupider

Wiffle: Tim’s stupidest

Timbits: blocked

Dickface Grayson: CHILDREN

Dickface Grayson: babs will murder us if we don’t come up with something

Timbits: I mean…. she’ll muder you

Spawn: muder

🐥Cass: muder

Wiffle: STUPIDEST

Jason calls Alfred, texts Bruce and leaves a long winded voicemail for Barbra. She replies with three smiley face emojis and then a voice note of her reminding him that his has three days off for his birthday specifically for resting, to stop worrying about everybody else. She’s stern and sure and he knows it’s pointless to argue.

Alfred had been vague too and Bruce hadn’t replied— with all his sources dry, Jason’s left pouting in his apartment, bored out of his mind. He keeps opening and closing his apps to see if there’s been updates.

There isn’t.

RedNerd: why are you guys so AWOL

Timbits: we’re giving u a break hbd loser

RedNerd: shady

Timbits:🙃

Timbits: i’m disowning Steph

RedNerd: i’m on her side whatever it is

Timbits: traitor

RedNerd: 🙃

Jason sighs languidly. He flicks his phone to the side and watches it bounce off the couch. There’s a full five seconds in which he allows himself to release his boredom in a long, guttural groan and then he’s diving after it to check the screen. It’s not broken. He resolutes himself to reading as all else fails.

Timbits: Jay’s getting antsy

Dickface Grayson: ughh

Wiffle: what r we gonna do?

Spawn: yk

Wiffle: Damian

Spawn: shut up Brown, I was going to say that Duke had an idea.

Wiffle: oh

Wiffle: what’s ur idea sunshine?

Duke☀️: I never volunteered

Wiffle: I’m starting to like the escort thing so plz

Duke☀️: fine

Duke☀️: I’ll invite him to the manor to play PUBG

Duke☀️: no party

Duke☀️: and then we do family dinner and have Alfred make a cake

Dickface Grayson: that’s simple enough

Wiffle: and Alfie makes the cake he’ll have no choice but to accept it

Babs: good work team

Duke☀️: team?

Babs: Good Work Sunshine ☀️💛💛

He’s cleaning his kitchen for the third time when his phone vibrates. A plate is almost dropped in his haste to get to it.

Duke☀️: PUBG. Pizza. Manor?

RedNerd: yessss

The manor’s dead silent when he steps into the threshold. Alfred slips out of the kitchen to bid him a quick hello, hands him two boxes of pizza (one extra cheese and the other sausage and peppers) and shoos him up the stairs.

“You look like shit,” is what Duke says in greeting. He already has the controllers and television set up. Jason feels a little like he’s found bliss.

“I’m losing it, man. No patrol and shit for three days? I’m going to die. Again.”

“Yeah cuz I’m about to kick your ass. Hand me my pizza and sit down.”

“It’s on, sunshine.”

Dickface Grayson: Duke has him in the den. we’re jist gonna ease in one by one. Alfred’ll bring the cake, we’ll do presents and then it’s done

Wiffle: sounds good chief

Timbits: is my pizza here?

Spawn: no one ordered for you

Duke☀️: yh it’s in the kitchen.

Timbits: right, expect me first.

They play four rounds until Jason’s spent most of his pent up energy on killing opponents. Duke gets better every time he plays and he works well with Jason’s style. It reminds him that they should team up more for patrol.

Damian slinks in on his toes right as they start the fifth. He’s got a box of pizza balanced in one hand and Alfred the cat tucked under the other.

“Todd,” is all he says before plopping down on the opposing sofa.

Tim wanders in after, barefooted and rumpled. He opens his mouth to say something, spots Damian and snaps it shut. He makes a noise that reminds Jason of a busted engine. He doesn’t know what that’s about, he doesn’t want to know either.

“Timbo, take this.” He passes him the controller and yanks his skinny frame down with one arm. “Play for me so I can eat.”

“Cheating,” Duke intones.

“It’s my birthday, I can do what I want to.” They all visibly stiffen at the words. He continues, speaking quickly around a mouthful of pizza. “And also. You guys have been really weird all day. What have you been up to?”

The response is a three tiered chorus of, “Nothing.”

“The group chat was dead quiet.”

Tim is stuttering something out when Damian drops a “I wish it was,” under his breath.

Nobody says anything. He chews, swallows and waits for them to fill the silence.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Do you guys have another group chat?”

“No.”

“Why would we?”

“Yes.”

Jason’s braces himself to be as offended as he possibly can when three things happen in the space of a minute.

Tim throws a slice of pizza at Damian while Duke ducks between the cushions. The ensuing fight is so loud Jason can’t hear himself think.

Dick and Cass come stumbling through the doors with Stephanie tailing behind them— their all singing “happy birthday.” Alfred— bless him— is following along with a small sponge cake adorned with lit candles. He makes it one foot into the room before there’s a loud splatter, a scream and shouted curse.

There’s a controller in the cake.

Dick and Steph are on the ground trying to pull a shocked Damian and Tim apart while Duke sinks further between the upholstery.

“Jason,” Cass crosses around the disaster zone. She offers him a hand and gives him a firm shake. “Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you.” He’s still stunned, gaping down at her like a confused goldfish.

“These are for you.”

It’s a pile of hard copy classics secured by a gold ribbon. A tiny bite size cupcake sits on top.

“Thanks Cass. I really appreciate it.”

She hums, casts a glare at Damian and sways out of the room.

“Well,” Alfred snaps. “I’m going to clean this buttercream off of me while you all fix this ...mess. Master Jason, it appears I owe you a cake.”

“It’s fine, Alfie.”

Dick slams his fist to the floor, fuming. “ It’s not.”

“It’s ok—“

“Jay we’ve been trying to plan something special for you all day. This was the best we could do— just us, just a cake and some presents— and we found a way to screw it up.”

“That’s what the other group chat was for.”

Tim chimes in, rolling out of the chokehold Damian has him in.

He sees the guilt hanging around the dropped corners of their mouths like anchors. So that’s why they were so unattached, they were just being annoying amongst themselves.

“This is….it’s great actually. That,” he points to Damian on the ground. “Was quality entertainment. Duke is still a PUBG genius, which it was nice to be reminded of and this—,” he raises the books and cupcake. “—is really all I need.”

He and Dick split half of Damian’s pizza out of sheer spite. Bruce comes in at some point to let them know Alfred’s making another cake and then he somehow gets sucked into a game of Super Mario. Later, they’ll all gather around in the kitchen to force feed Jason cake and watch him open presents. It’ll be quiet and intimate and just right for him.

He’s not bored to death anymore.

Tomorrow, he’ll wake up to four hundred messages in the group chat and the world will right itself.

Wiffle: We’re all going to remember what we’re getting Damian for his bday next yr, right?

Duke☀️: lessons in decorum

Timbits: tickets to the Crayola Experience?

Timbits: tickets to Sesame Street live?

Wiffle: no

Wiffle: a trip to Home Depot to get him a big ass hoe

[sauveteen]

Something Old, Something New | Stuck Together Epilogue

hi! this is a repost. grace and i co-wrote stuck together, and since she deleted her blog ( :(( ), i am reuploading all the extras! here’s 9.2k of our local Dumbasses and their happy ending. 

if you haven’t read Stuck Together yet, it’s not too late my friends

There’s a lot of things people think they have to say when someone mentions a wedding, or rather, a wedding day. They're all stupidly cheesy quotes, always along the lines of ‘Two souls with but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one.’ or, Nadine's favourite: ‘When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.’ That one makes her want to throw up a little, because by the time you realize that you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, there's a very probable chance that you already are. Extravagant weddings to Nadine are like birthday parties; sure, they're fun, but you're turning a year older anyway. Does it really matter if you show the world? If it was up to her, Nadine would've dragged Shawn by his stupidly long curls and married him in a dumpster, but it wasn't up to her for that very reason. It was up to her mother and Shawn's mother and their friends and their pets and fuck — whatever. (At least Nadine’ll end up with some cool pictures for her private Instagram and exactly twenty seven followers. Content grind and all, you know?)

Point is, wedding days aren't all that. So when Nadine’s eyes fly open at the sound of her alarm, she immediately feels the persistent knot in her gut start to tighten. Gingerly turning to her side, Nadine reaches around for Shawn, heart sinking when she realizes that he isn't there. He’s probably somewhere with Brian and Andrew, still snoring softly into his pillow, because all he has to do is shower and put on a suit. Men have it so easy.

She reaches over for her phone, blearily scrolling through her notifications, face half sunken into her pillow. There’s some from family she hasn’t seen or heard from in a while, all different variations of Can’t wait to see you, congrats! Nadine replies to a few friends who say they’re so excited for her, and she scrolls through her notifications again. Unconsciously, she searches for her dad’s number, but it never shows up.

She doesn’t let it upset her, or really, she doesn’t have time to; Anaya bursts into the room like she owns the place, shooing Nadine up and out of bed. “Get in the shower!” she yells, pinching Nadine’s side. Nadine yelps loudly, jumping as she grabs a towel from the rack, shutting the door behind her. She leans against it, breathing heavily. She wishes Shawn were here.

Nadine closes her eyes and tilts her head back, thinking of exactly what he’d say to her if he was there. It’s fine, Nads. We can go to the courthouse if you want. Just me, you, and a random person off the street to be our witness. She’d shake her head and say, No, Shawn. We planned this wedding, we have to go through with it, as tempting as that sounds. And Shawn would nod and say, You’re right. But it’s the same principle. Just you and me, baby. Don’t think about anyone else. And she’d know he was right. So she lets those thoughts comfort her, stepping under the warm water, running the razor over her already waxed everything. Just to make sure.

Nadine lathers the soap in the washcloth and lets her thoughts wander. She’s going to blow dry her hair, and then her mom is going to go through it with a curling iron, and then someone’s going to do her makeup (maybe Karen?), and she’ll text Shawn to see how everything’s going on his end. She hopes her mom doesn’t try to do the ‘something old, something new’ tradition, because she doesn’t want to cry when she sees something of her late grandmother’s when her makeup’s just been done. She misses her grandma a lot, right now. Her grandma would probably tell her mom to calm down, and Nadine needs that right now. She needs everyone to calm down, because she isn't calm, and if everyone else isn't either then God knows how Nadine's going to get through this day. She rubs the soap in particularly harshly, and hisses. Not a day for her inner masochist to shine through.

“Deen, baby?” Anaya says through the door, and her gentle knocks are thunder to Nadine’s ears. She blinks, inhaling sharply, and shuts off the water. “Are you almost done?”

“Not yet, mum. Have to wash my hair!” she calls back, waits for Anaya’s footsteps to fade, and then she turns the water back on. Nadine tips her head back on the tile, letting the scalding water run over her skin, and tries to even her breaths. She imagines Shawn again, his hands on her shoulders, telling her to just breathe with him. Come on, Nads, he'd say, nothing to worry about, yeah? And he'd be right, because there isn't anything to worry about. It's her wedding day. She's getting married to the love of her entire fucking life, and she'll be damned if she lets herself ruin it. So she forces her thoughts down her throat, and wills some sense of gratitude into her head. Hums a tune to herself, recognizes it as Shawn’s, and softly smiles to herself. She's marrying him. She's marrying the man who’s made her life into one big, melodramatic song, and she's never been more in love.

She plays the thought over and over in her head, and her irrational worries and anxieties give way to the warmth and excitement that starts bubbling in her chest. Nadine practically grins as she rinses the shampoo from her hair, squealing giddily at one point. She’s marrying Shawn today. It’s actually happening. She’s really going to be his forever, and she can’t fucking wait. Once the whole thing is over and she’s in bed with him and she’s staring at him and they’re alone and together and married she’s going to kiss the living daylights out of him, and maybe fuck the living daylights out of him, too. And she can’t. Fucking. Wait.

Fifteen minutes and one shitty blow dry job later, Nadine’s walking out of the bathroom in a robe and nothing else, and her mom is brandishing the curling iron like a magician’s wand. It makes Nadine laugh, and the knot in her chest loosens. She's surrounded by people she loves, and she's in love with her best friend and so she has no reason to be sad. (Tell that to her head, though. Nadine's trying. She's trying, and maybe it's working, but the little flicker of sadness never goes away.) She starts to twist a loose thread on her robe, and then untangles it. And she keeps doing that, and pretends like it's the worrisome knot in her chest that she's playing with.

“Are you ready?” Anaya asks, and Nadine shrugs, because how could she not be? She’d have to be, anyway. Anaya sits her down in the chair, and runs a hand through her curls. She clicks her tongue, walking to the bathroom. “You did a shitty job with your hair, you know.”

“I tried!” (She didn’t, and she knows it.)

“I know you didn’t.” Anaya plugs the blowdryer in, working it in a way only she knows how to do. “How come you never learned to do this?”

“You always did it for me!” Nadine exclaims. “And now Shawn does it for me. I miss Shawn.” She sticks her bottom lip out, and Anaya blows the warm air in her face. “Hey!”

“Stop pouting. No worry lines on your big day.” They work together in silence, Nadine sectioning off hair for her while her mom dries it as best she can. Nadine looks up at her, her beautiful, amazing, hard-headed mother (she knows where she gets it from), and wants to cry. She takes a deep breath. Pull it together, Nads. She can’t cry just yet, she has to save it for her vows. “Nadine, love?”

“Hm?”

“Your father isn’t coming. I got an email this morning.” Nadine blinks, and she feels it. She feels the knot tying around itself, over and over again, and it gets kind of hard to breathe when her chest aches like that. Her mother didn’t even put piece of shit in front of ‘father’, meaning she’s serious. She's getting married and her father didn't even have it in him to at least call and let her down. He sent an email. A fucking email. Nadine takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes, mumma.” Nadine blinks again, and then she’s fine. She’s extremely totally fine and she doesn’t need Shawn at all. She's an independent woman and she doesn't need her stupid boy fiancé. She’ll see him later. For amazing post-marriage, pre-honeymoon sex. “It’s fucking whatever. I knew it was a long shot, anyway.”

(Just because she knew it was a long shot didn't mean that she wasn't hoping for it to happen. Camila Cabello got married recently, and Shawn took Nadine to the wedding, and Nadine cried. Camila and Shawn and literally everyone else in the hall and on the fucking internet thought it was because she was happy for Camila, and she was, but that wasn't it. She was crying because Camila’s father walked her down the aisle and he was crying because he was so happy and deep inside, Nadine knew she wouldn't have that. And then she felt bad, because she was making it all about herself, and so she put on a smile and helped Camila change into her reception dress. She knew what she was doing when she mailed her father the wedding invitation, knew that she was only signing up for heartbreak. But she had hope, because she still loves him, she guesses. He's still her father, and she still loves him, and she wishes now more than ever that she could've done something to have him stay.)

“You sure?” Anaya’s gentle voice plunges her back into reality. She unplugs the blow dryer, kissing the top of Nadine’s head, and Nadine lets her eyes flutter shut at the affection. Pretends like she isn't actually pushing tears back in. She loves her mother, her mother who stayed, and lets that thought consumer her. “It doesn’t have to be fucking whatever.” She turns the curling iron back on, waving her hand over it, and nods. “Good, still warm.”

“Well, it is. Fucking whatever, I mean.” There’s a long lull, Anaya working on Nadine’s hair while she sits and stares at herself in the mirror. The flicker of sadness in her chest is becoming more like a flame. Nadine shoots off a text to Shawn asking how he is just as Karen and Aaliyah come stumbling through the door. Nadine narrows her eyes at the both of them, and Aaliyah just smiles. “Does everyone have a key to this room?”

“Not Shawn!” Aaliyah says, smiling like she’s got a secret. Nadine rolls her eyes. “Anaya, will you do my hair too?”

“Of course I will!” she exclaims, finishing the last curl on Nadine. Nadine tilts her head, staring at the way the curls frame her face. She sighs, eyes narrow. Is her face always this puffy? Maybe she needs a cold washcloth. Why is she so red? She hopes someone has color correcting concealer, because she doesn’t. She thought she was going to be dark enough by this time of year to miss any weird redness. She shakes her head.

“I’m going to start my makeup, I think,” she says to no one in particular, and Karen looks up from her perch on the bed, where she’s been reading some magazine. (She's also tearing up, just a little. She can't believe the girl who cried in her lap years ago is marrying her son today. Anaya teases her about it, but Karen really doesn't give a single shit. It's not her fault that her best friend is made of stone.)

“Aaliyah said she would help you, honey.” Karen comes to sit next to her, and squeezes her hand. Karen always knows what she needs. She shuts her eyes tight. No tears yet. Why is it okay for Karen to cry while she has to hold it in?

“I will when my hair is done,” she hears Aaliyah say. Nadine nods, and she spreads the primer over her face, deliberately rubbing it in. She takes her foundation and a fresh, new blender, and smears it, making sure its as blended as possible. Karen smooths out a spot Nadine missed, and then kisses her temple, and she feels so loved and unloved at the same time that she might actually cry. But she won’t, because then her makeup would be ruined. Karen gets up, going to her best friend. Nadine takes a deep breath. Aaliyah taps her thigh, and Nadine turns to her. “Ready? Oh shit, you already did your foundation.”

“Shit,” Nadine agrees, and the moms laugh from where they’re doing their own hair. “Can you still do my eye makeup?”

“Yeah, ‘course.” Aaliyah pulls out her bag, revealing what Nadine thinks is too many products. “Don’t worry, Nads. I got you.” Nadine closes her eyes and lets Aaliyah work her magic. Her mind wanders again, and she thinks about her mom.

Twenty six years ago her mom got married to her dad, and then two years later, there was Nadine. And then six years after that, there was no dad except for on birthdays and sometimes Christmas, but rarely. And Nadine thinks about that, and she thinks her mom might be the single strongest woman on earth for dealing with that, and dealing with all of Nadine’s questions about why ‘daddy won’t call back.’ Nadine sniffles, and Aaliyah cups her face gently.

“You okay?” she whispers, and Nadine nods, keeping her eyes closed. Her mom dealt with so much fucking shit, and she went through all of this, all of what Nadine is going through right now and will go through with. The cold feet, the wedding dress, the vows, the kiss. She got married to a man she thought was going to be her Shawn. That hits her straight in the heart, and suddenly it isn't a knot, it's a giant, massive hole in her heart that Nadine doesn't know how to fill. “Look down for me, Nads,” she hears, and feels her mascara being put on. She can’t cry right now. She can’t. It’s not— she reaches for her phone. “‘Kay, now up, please.” She unlocks it with her thumb, and Aaliyah pats her face, knowing Nadine needs space. Nadine loves her for it. “You can finish up, yeah? You’re good at blending your face.”

Nadine nods, texting Shawn. hello hi bb please answer me. She puts on her powder foundation, and then blush. Nadine blinks at herself. Her puffiness and redness is gone, replaced by Nadine-who’s-getting-married, and her phone buzzes.

Shawn <33

Hey, just saw this lol sorry! I’m great. You doing good? I hope Mom and Liyah aren’t being too wild

Nadine puts her phone down, slowly applying both liquid and powder highlight, and she sniffles again. She sees her mother frown out of the corner of her eye. “Are you getting sick?” Anaya asks, concern lacing her voice, and Nadine shakes her head. She knows she’s being uncharacteristically quiet and she knows they’ve noticed and that makes her want to curl into a ball on the bed and sob until they call Shawn and tell him to come over here because she’s hysterical but also, really, she doesn’t want that at all. She puts the highlight brush down a little too hard, and Karen jumps.

“Deen, sweetheat?”

Nadine shakes her head, blinking rapidly. She picks up her phone, willing her hands to stop shaking. need u, kind of sos. im ffine but i need you, she types and shakes her head again. “I’m fine. I’m fine, you guys.” Her voice is cracking, and she hears her phone buzz again, and again. She’s still blinking too fast, and she mists her face with the setting spray at a bad attempt to keep her mascara in place.

“Don’t worry, I used waterproof,” Aaliyah says, but she’s not smiling. Nadine laughs anyway, no mirth behind it at all. She shakes her head, puffs her cheeks, and lets out a long breath.

“Better Than Sex? The best.” She sniffles again, tucking her hair behind her ears, flipping it back. “I’m honestly okay.” There’s a knock at the door, and Anaya jumps up to get it. She opens the door and shrieks, closing it. An arm blocks it from closing all the way.

“Anaya, please let me in,” Nadine hears, and it’s Shawn, she knows it.

“Is that Shawn?” she asks, standing. Aaliyah sits her back down.

“Shawn, you can’t be here!” Karen exclaims, but he jimmies his way in, walking toward her. Nadine stands up, still in her robe, and Shawn hasn’t even seen her yet. “Shawn! It’s bad luck!”

“Don’t think luck works with us, anymore, Mum.” He positions himself between the three of them and Nadine, and he sighs. “Can you guys leave, please?” he asks, and all three women frown. “Please? It’ll be five minutes, okay?” He pushes them toward the door, and Nadine sniffs, wiping at her nose delicately with a tissue. She feels very ladylike. Shawn turns around, finally facing her, and he gasps. “Oh, shit.”

“What?!” she exclaims, looking around, looking at herself in the mirror. “Fuck, did I fuck it up?” She fiddles with the knot on the robe.

“No, Jesus,” he says. He sounds choked up, and Nadine’s eyes widen. “You’re so beautiful, Nads, holy fuck.” His voice is thick with emotion, and he sniffles this time. Nadine shakes her head.

“Do not.” She walks toward him and he kisses her sweetly, chastely, just once. She pulls back, brushing imaginary dust off his sleep shirt. “I’m the one trying not to cry.”

“I can’t wait to see you in the dress,” he says, swallowing the lump in his throat, kissing her nose. And then he pulls back a little, eyes widened, mouth twisted in a frown. “But yeah, wait. Why are you trying not to cry, again?”

Nadine shakes her head. She knows if she tries to say it she’ll start to sob, and while her mascara won't run and neither will her eyeliner, she doesn’t want to cry. It’s the principle of the thing. Her arms go around his waist, and she kind of wants to melt into Shawn and forget that she's supposed to be the woman of the hour. She wants to marry him without having to worry about who shows up or who doesn't show up and— and God, she's really going through it. But she can't, and so Nadine buries her head in his chest, and Shawn kisses the top of her head, careful not to mess up her hair. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.”

Nadine curls her fingers into the fabric of his tee, rubbing it between her fingers to ground herself. She does this for a minute or two, breath hitching quietly and Shawn shushes her, carefully running his hand up and down her back. He's saying and doing exactly what she imagined he would, but there's a difference between having him here and having him in her head. It feels more real, and Nadine needs that. When she pulls back, hazy-eyed and a little shaken, he leads them to the bed. She curls into him, and Shawn tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, stroking the settled curls with wary gentleness. (He didn't know her hair could do that — he's so used to seeing it all wild and everywhere that the fact that Nadine can look prettier than she does every single day kind of knocks the breath out of him.)

“Shawn?”

“Yeah, baby?”

Her lip quivers and she takes a shaky, shallow breath. Her voice is small when she asks, “You won’t ever leave me and our kids that we don’t have yet behind, right?” Her voice cracks a little, and Shawn pulls back, brows furrowed.

“Nadine Anaya, what the actual fuck?” He flicks her ear, and she whines. “Why would you ask me that? I wouldn’t. Nadine.” He sounds so hurt, and that makes Nadine a lot more sadder than she wants to be, so she lets out a sob. Something dawns on him, then, and he sighs, knowing what she’s asking. “Baby, no, no, listen. I would never in a million years leave you. Maybe that sounds like an empty promise, but sweetheart, you’re everything, right? You're it for me.” He toys with the ring on her left hand, presses a kiss to it. “That’s what this means. I love you and you’re stuck with me, right? We’re stuck together, you know that.”

“I know that, and I love you, but.. but he—” She shakes her head, and scolds herself for letting her emotions get the better of her. A tear falls, and Shawn thumbs it away. “I hate crying, what the fuck.” Shawn laughs, but it sounds choked, and he kisses her temple, her cheeks, her nose. “Shawn, I—”

“Sweetheart, he never deserved your love.” Nadine finally looks up, and his eyes hold love and compassion and concern and unshed tears and anger, and she doesn’t think...he’s ever expressed any sort of sentiment about her dad. Not even when he left, not when he stopped calling. “Any fucker who walks out of his child’s life like that is a coward. How could he leave you behind like that? You're probably the best fucking thing in his piece of shit life, and if he couldn't see that, fuck him.” Nadine shakes her head, and Shawn cups her face. Her heart might just burst. “He never deserved your mom, and he never deserved you. You’ve got your mom, you’ve got my family, you’ve got me. And I’m never fucking leaving. Never.”

“Never say never, I think Justin Bieber said that once.” Nadine starts to hum, and Shawn kisses her, hard and fast but so full of love she feels her chest start to expand. It shuts her up, though, and she lets him break the kiss. She clings to him, his thumbs gently brushing the shell of her ears, and she knows why she fell in love with him. He treats her like Nadine knows she deserves to be treated.

“Don’t bring him up on our wedding day, asshole.” Shawn sounds fond, though, so she’s not too worried. “Do you believe me? I’m never leaving. I mean it. Never in a million years. We’re. Stuck. Together. You can thank our moms for that, and I do every single day.”

Nadine laughs wetly. “God, you’re so fucking cheesy.” She hugs him one last time, squeezing so tightly that he actually lets out a tiny shriek. Nadine kisses his shoulder, and takes a deep breath. She loves him so much, and she’s marrying him. “Okay. Yeah. Fuck. I have to get dressed and so do you. Go dry your hair.” He shakes his head violently, droplets of water spraying onto her, and she pushes him away. He laughs. “Shawn! I just got my hair done!”

“And you look so beautiful,” he says, cupping her face. His eyes flicker across Nadine's face in apparent pride and bewilderment, and when he leans in to press a quick kiss against her lips, she kind of melts into a puddle. “Nads, I know we've been planning this wedding for ages now but I'm… I'm still in awe.” His voice is soft, like a child sharing a secret, and Nadine's grip around his shirt tightens.

“Of what, babe?”

“The fact that I get to marry you? I get to marry the person I've shared my entire life with. I feel so fucking lucky, Nads, you have no idea.”

Can't cry, can't cry, can't cry. Nadine pushes him away, turning her head to the side, and inhales deeply, “Save that cheese talk for the vows, bitch, or I'm kicking your ass.”

When Shawn gets up, he leans in front of her, grabbing her face between his hands and squishing it so she resembles a fish. He brushes their noses together, saying, “Yeah?” He's grinning against her lips, and she's a second away from pulling him in by his neck and just riding the smirk out of him then and there. “Too bad, Nads. Can't get rid of me anymore, because I'm fucking marrying you today.” He pinches her side, and she yelps as he chuckles. “I can’t fucking wait.” Shawn runs his thumb over her cheek, and she leans into his hand. “You gonna be okay for the next little bit?”

“I will.” With that, he exits the room, and the three women barrel in, eyes wide. She frowns at them. “What?” She knows she’s being difficult, knows her mom will be mad, but she can’t bring herself to care.

“Why’d you let him in?” Anaya shrieks. Nadine pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing. “When there’s tradition?!”

“Maybe she just needed to see him.” Aaliyah grabs the garment bag from the closet, unzipping her dress. “Maybe tradition and luck don’t matter when you’re Shawn and Nadine.” She turns to Anaya and Karen, frowning at the pair of best friends. “Don’t make this harder on her than it needs to be.” Nadine takes her hand, squeezing it gratefully. The knock on the door signifies the photographer’s arrival, and the day officially begins.

Properly mollified, Anaya pours mimosas into plastic champagne flutes, handing them out to everyone in the room. Nadine turns on music, and the four sit around for a moment, just talking like it’s a regular brunch, and not like it’s probably the biggest day of Nadine’s life. They gossip and bitch and moan and laugh until there’s unshed tears in their eyes. Anaya stands abruptly, turning off the music, and Nadine checks the time. She blinks. The ceremony starts in forty minutes.

“Ready?” her mom asks, and she nods, thinking of the moment she sees Shawn, and how she just might have to cry. It’s okay if she cries during her vows, though. That’s allowed. She strips from the robe, and her mom and Karen help her into the dress. The fabric slips over her shoulders, and she zips up the side, taking a look at herself in the mirror. The gold and silver plated stars glisten under the bright light, and she blinks, mouth parted slightly at the woman in the mirror. The click of the camera brings her back to reality as Aaliyah hands her the little golden crown of leaves, and they all pin it to her head. Her curls are tamed, skin glowing, nails perfect.

Nadine indulges her inner seven year old and does a little twirl, giggling in the process. She feels like an absolute princess, and for a moment, she's kind of glad that she didn't get to plan most of the wedding. She'd probably be in her cow onesie, and while that sounds comfy, the dress makes her feel… royal. Like a bride’s supposed to feel. Her mother comes up behind her, looking like the beautiful goddess she is, and gives her a kiss on the cheek. “Mum?” she asks, and her mom wipes a tear away. She didn't know her mumma was capable of crying, and the shock on Karen's proof is enough that no one else did, either. It makes Nadine’s chin tremble.

“You’re beautiful.” She sweeps Nadine’s hair behind her shoulders, standing next to her. She’s taller than her mom, standing at 5’8, and Nadine curls an arm around her mom’s shoulders. She turns to face Anaya, who takes a deep, shaky breath. “I’m so glad you found your person.”

“He’s a good one,” Nadine says, and Anaya nods.

“I couldn’t have thought of anyone more perfect for you.” Her voice breaks on the last word, and Nadine’s pretty set on the fact she's never seen her mom cry. Not when her dad left, not when she cried over Hot Football Guy, not even when her and Shawn got into their Big Fight. Nadine’s breath hitches, and she crushes her mom in a hug.

“Don’t cry, Mumma,” she whispers, and that only makes Anaya’s tears fall faster. “I’m okay.”

“I know you are.” She composes herself, stroking Nadine’s hair gently, pushing it out of her face. “I’m just happy.”

A choked sob comes from behind the pair, and they turn to look at Karen, whose face is buried into her daughter’s shoulder. Aaliyah smiles apologetically, her mother's shoulders rising and falling with steady cries, and Anaya glares at her best friend.

“Karen. This is my moment.”

“Oh, shut up, Ana!” Comes her muffled reply, delicate hand waving her off, and Nadine has to laugh. “My daughter is marrying my son!”

“You know that sounds wrong, right, mum?” Aaliyah frowns, and her mother swats her arm. She groans in protest, sending SOS eyes to Nadine, who stalks over to Karen. Grabs her by the shoulders, and gently wipes her tears away. Her own smile is trembling, though, and she didn't know it was possible for her to feel so much happiness in one go.

“I'm so glad I have you…” Nadine drops her voice at this, grinning gently, “..Mum.”

“Oh my god, Nadine,” Karen's cry then is louder than the rest, and she gently pushes Nadine away, “That just makes it worse. I want to hug you so bad but I'll ruin your dress, and oh my… Ana. Ana! Did you hear that? She called me mum.”

Anaya breathes heavily through her nose, hands on her hips, and pretends to be annoyed. She isn't, though. Her daughter is marrying her best friend's son, and Anaya thanks the heavens. She isn't religious, and she's rarely ever found reasons to be thankful for, but she thanks all the Gods she can for all the fucked up things that led to this very moment. To her daughter marrying someone who loves her more than anything in the world. She thanks the eternal sky for giving to Nadine what it couldn't give to her, and sniffs.

“Okay, Aaliyah, your turn to cry now.” Nadine teases, and the younger Mendes playfully rolls her eyes, but the pink in her cheeks gives her happiness away. Nadine holds her hands out, saying, “Bring it in, mami.” And then the two hug, and they shriek a little, and Aaliyah does almost cry. She hopes to find love like her brother someday, because she feels lonely as fuck. That makes her squeeze Nadine a little tighter, who playfully chokes. (And almost gives Karen and Anaya collective heart attacks.)

Just then, there’s a loud knock on the hotel door, and in comes Catie stumbling through the door, a dress bag slung over her shoulder and a universe’s worth of mischief promised behind her naughty smile.

“Did I miss something?” Is the first thing she asks (several times, because nobody actually answers her). Her eyes flicker from Anaya, to Karen, to Aaliyah, and then finally to Nadine, and she gasps. Her hands fly to her mouth, eyes widening to the point where there's just white circles in her mouth, and she drops her bag to the floor to run into her friend's open arms.

(Karen winces. She can't believe she didn't hug her future daughter to be and this heathen gets to mess up her dress like that.)

“Bitch!” She shrieks when she pulls away, and then she hugs Nadine again, and then she pulls away. “Oh my fucking God, Nad, who knew? Who knew you could actually look like a…?”

“A bride?”

“No!” Catie giggles. When she shakes her head, a perfectly straightened strand of blond hits Nadine in the face. “Like a human.”

“Hey!” Nadine swats her friend, and then hugs her, and then thanks her. Over and over and over again. If not for Catie — or as Shawn would say, Catie with a C — and her game, there were very few chances for the two to actually realise their feelings as early as they did. (Early according to Shawn, of course. He suffered for a day and pretended like he shook hands with death. Nadine has to scoff at that. Men.)

“I'm kidding, Nad.” She asks her to do a twirl, motioning a spin with her index finger, and Nadine does. She's giddy and her head’s spinning a little but she feels so beautiful and loved that the little blemish of worry from the morning is nothing but a stain now, and she twirls the hell out of it. When she stops, she stumbles, giggling, and has to grab her mother's arm for support. Anaya squeezes her elbow, letting her go back to Catie.

Catie wipes a fake tear. “I can't believe Shawn's white ass gets to tap that.”

Nadine pulls Catie in by her elbow, lowering her head to whisper in her ear, “He gets to do a lot more than just tap it, honestly.” And then the two giggle like they used to in middle school, and it all falls into place. All of it makes sense, and there's not even a speck of doubt in Nadine's head.

Yes, Shawn and her were stuck together. But they’re more than that; everyone’s words and smiles give away. They were meant to be.

Karen, Aaliyah, and Catie eventually walk outside, leaving Nadine and Anaya alone in the room. Anaya smooths Nadine’s hair back, and Nadine lets her eyes flutter shut. She feels like she did when she was seven at her grandfather’s second wedding; out of her depth in a dress, hair flying wildly everywhere, very much like a little kid. She leans her head on her mom’s shoulder, and Anaya squeezes her tightly.

“Mumma?” Nadine lifts her head to meet her mother’s steady gaze, and holds her mother's hand, squeezing lightly. “I want you to walk me down the aisle.”

Nadine contemplated over whether she should ask her mother or tell her: Can you walk me down the aisle? or I want you to walk me down the aisle. She realised she wanted it as much as she wanted a remote control car when she was eleven, and you never ask for things like those. You demand them. If you don't get them, it's okay, but at least there's never the regret of how you willingly left scope and room for an answer that you didn't want. Nadine's learned to be straightforward with life and people alike now, because she deserves that.

“I thought Shawn was…”

“I was young, mumma,” She sniffs a little, and Anaya’s lips turn down into a frown. Nadine shakes her head, smiling, and continues, “I was young when dad left. I was stupid, and I spent way too much thinking about it, and Shawn was always there for me, yeah? When he promised to be my father and do all the things that fathers do.” She cups Anaya’s face. “I was too stupid to realise that I already had someone that did all that fathers do. You took me to museums, you danced with me in father daughter dances, you hoisted my fatass up on your shoulders. He wasn't there, mumma, but you were.”

Anaya isn't going to cry. She isn't, and her daughter can get fucked for trying. “Shawn did all he could, and that seemed to be enough, but only now do I realise how much you did. How lucky I am to have one parent who's done more than two parents can do in a lifetime. So what if one random fucker doesn't show up to my wedding?” Anaya grins approvingly, and Nadine shakes her head in feigned annoyance. “Shawn's going to be my husband now, mum. I don't want to walk down to an empty altar. I want you to give me away, because God fucking knows you've earned that right.”

“I hate you.”

“I love you too, Mumma. So fucking much. I wish you knew how much I loved you.”

“More than Shawn?”

Nadine shuts up, and then opens her mouth, and then closes it again. She pouts. “You know that's different!”

Anaya grins, playfully pinching her daughter’s side, and Nadine lets out an annoyed whine. “I know it is, baby. Just pulling your leg.”

“You're the worst.”

Anaya holds a hand out, smiling the widest she's smiled in ages, she thinks. “Let's go walk you down the aisle, Deen. Let's give that boy something to cry about.”

It’s like it happens in slow motion, Nadine thinks. Her mom leads her out of the room, and the girls turn to look at her. She spots Brian from the front of the altar when he waves at her, and she watches him lean forward to say something to Shawn. Karen kisses her forehead, sweeping down the aisle toward her spot at the front, and Aaliyah does a salute before turning back around to wait for her cue when the music begins. Her legs begin to shake, and Catie’s turning around, smiling at her mom, giving her a hug.

Nadine feels like it’s all a blur, Shawn’s little cousins walking down the aisle throwing flowers, carrying the rings. Is she dreaming? And then, before she knows it, Anaya’s leading her to the door, and Shawn turns around and Nadine feels it all stop, the music’s big, swelling crescendo finally softening to a pianissimo as Shawn’s glassy eyes meet hers, and she hears her cousin’s son ask if that’s a princess, and her cousin says, no, bud, that’s Nadine, and she watches Shawn surreptitiously wipe a tear from his eye as her feet land right in front of him. Her heart is going to burst, her tears threatening to pour. She blinks them away, but one falls, and Shawn thumbs it away. Her mom kisses her cheek, and then kisses Shawn’s. Nadine barely notices. Shawn’s smile is the softest she’s ever seen it.

“Hi,” he mouths at her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She looks up at him, smiling, and then they turn, the officiant beginning the ceremony, but she’s only half listening as Nana Mendes speaks. She’s staring at the side of Shawn’s face, and maybe she didn’t get the point of a big wedding before, but right now, she can’t even see the other people. It’s just her and Shawn, Shawn and Nadine, Shawnadine. He turns to look at her as his nan continues on. It’s like they’re the only two people in the room, and she giggles a bit. He just tilts his head at her and grips her hand tightly, pulling her to the side to sit as Nana Mendes talks about their very own love story.

“For the sake of this holy matrimony,” Nana starts, clasping her hands in the front of her bunched up dress, “I will try not to curse today. If I do, me perdoe. Forgive me, please. Ah, my bebês, my loves. Where do I even begin with Shawn and Nadine? God give me the strength, por favor, and someone stop me if I speak too long.”

“I have loved four times in my life. Each one more passionate and fogosa; fiery, than the other. I have known love, I have dealt with it, and I have learned to take it as it comes. But I have never known love like Shawn and Nadine’s. Shawn was three, four, when I first knew he loved Nadine. There is this saying in Portuguese.. Amor, fogo, e tosse, A seu dono descobre. Love, smoke, and cough are hard to hide. I know, since poor Manny is always walking in on me inhaling and coughing up a storm..” The people laugh, and Nana smiles. Her face, usually cold and apprehensive, feels like a warm embrace, “But no, a sério, Shawn would always say, I hate her, mum, I don't want to play with her. I want to drive cars, like the big boys, but his eyes would give him away. Always looking for her, always glancing at her when he made a joke, always lighting up when she laughed. Ah, it could not be hidden.”

Nadine looks at Shawn, and he dips his head. There's a pink, fierce blush staining his cheeks, and she’s cheesing at the fact that he’s ashamed of how much he loves her.

“I knew Nadine loved Shawn the very first time I met her. She was six, I think. These two were running around the entire house, crianças safadas, naughty little kids. I remember Nadine asked if I wanted her to light my pipe for me.” Nana laughs, shaking her head. “Little six year old, asking me if I needed my pipe lit. But even as she talked to me, as she bounced in my lap, all she could think about was Shawn. She kept asking these questions — do you like Shawn? Does Shawn like you? Are you Shawn’s best friend? Did you get a toy for him? She even went as far as tugging at my blouse, and she narrowed her little eyes, and she said ‘I’m Shawn’s best friend. I am.’ I’ve been in a gang, once, but never have I felt more threatened.” The congregation laughs, and Nadine grins, because it’s true. She’s his best friend.

“Standing here today makes me unbelievably happy. I’m sure my face gives it away.” Her face is plain, lips in a thin line, and she looks as bored as can be. Nadine has to giggle. “Please join in me the holy matrimony of my favourite children, my bebês.”

Nadine pulls Shawn to his feet, and they stand in front of their friends and family as his cousin’s daughter brings the rings to them. Nadine crouches, taking one, and Shawn follows suit, taking the other ring and kissing his cousin’s forehead. She scurries off, and they both stand up straight, turning to face each other. Nadine can’t tame her giant smile, and Shawn gives her knuckles a kiss. Her heart flutters.

“Shawn, your vows.”

Shawn looks to his grandma, and she nods. When he glances out at the people, he spots his mom, his dad, his sister, and he smiles. He spots Anaya, and that gives him some calm, and he finally turns his attention back to Nadine. She’s giving him the softest smile in the world, and he’s never loved her more. “Oh, Nadine, can I tell you a story?” he starts, and she shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “When you were just a baby in your mom’s stomach—” Nadine groans loudly, and the congregation laughs, prompting Shawn to laugh, too. He shakes his head at her. “When you were just a baby in your mom’s stomach, my mom would point and say, ‘Look, Shawn, that’s your best friend in there.’ I didn’t know what a best friend was. I was like, barely one year old.” Nadine rubs her thumb on his wrist gently, laughing softly, and he smiles, takes a deep breath. “And then you were one, and I was two, and my mom would say ‘Shawn, your best friend is coming over,” but you were a baby and I was a big two year old and I didn’t wanna hang out with someone who could barely say my name let alone be best friends with them.”

“But our moms made us stick together, and I could never be more grateful to them for that, because I got something even better than a best friend.” Nadine sniffs delicately, and Shawn’s grin widens. “I got someone who I couldn't possibly be more in love with. I remember the first time you liked a girl..” He shakes his head, and there's a little smirk on his face, “Nadine, you asked me if I'd ever loved someone like that. Like my heart stopped when they came around, and my day instantly bettered when I heard their laugh. I said no then, baby, but I was an idiot. Because I had loved someone like that. You, Nadine, I—” Shawn breaks off, and when he hears a sniff to the side, his head turns. Nana immediately drops her head, hugging her leather jacket closer to herself, and Shawn’s lips part. He continues, though, still surprised, “I've loved you like that for as long as I can possibly remember. It didn't matter if… if I lost a stupid job, or if I couldn't get a lyric right, or if I got laughed at because there was toilet paper trailing behind me… I'd meet you and I'd be crying and you'd probably be laughing at me but you made it okay, Nads. You've made life pretty okay, and I couldn't, in any sense of the word, be more grateful.”

“You make me feel the way music makes me feel. Maybe I’m frustrated sometimes, or maybe I’m too in love. But you’re like the most beautiful song in the world, and I’m lucky to listen to it every single day.” Nadine squeezes his wrist, but he carries on. “And I’ll promise to listen to you every single day of forever, my love. I’ll listen and love you and hold you when that flicker of sadness starts to take over in your heart. But you’ll always be the most beautiful song to me.” Nadine’s breath hitches, and she’s not going to cry, she won’t. But he slips the ring over her finger, and she gasps, and he grins, watching her face go through a series of emotions before landing on elated, and he’s never loved her more.

“Nadine, your vows.”

“Shawn,” Nadine's hands shake as they reach forward for his, and he squeezes tightly, a reassuring smile on his face. “I hate you because my vows are nowhere as poetic as yours, you stupid songwriter.” The crowd laughs, and Nadine stalls a bit to let their laughter die down, and then continues, “I've liked you for as long as the world can remember. As long as we've lived, baby. And you once told me this story..” Nadine laughs, shaking her head, and she can't believe that their vows overlap too, “That when I was a fetus in my mom’s stomach, you used to kiss her belly because your best friend was in there. And that's… that's a cute story, to some. But it's my favourite story that you've ever told me, counting the one about the chocolate world where houses are peanut butter cups.” Shawn chuckles, and Nadine’s chin trembles a bit. She won't cry. “Because it's crazy, you know? It's beautifully crazy that some people spend their entire lives looking for the one, but I found my person before I even found the world.”

Shawn's smile is warm, gentle, and eyes brimming with tears. Nadine reaches over, cupping his face, and she wants nothing more than to kiss him. She mouths I love you before continuing, and he grins in return. “We've spent a good part of our lives telling each stories and pretending like we hadn't already heard them. Our story is one that I want to keep listening to over and over again. Shawn, my heart, you make it very difficult not to fall more in love with you every single day. You're like sunshine on a pleasant day, when you're happy because the world around is just right, but then the sun shines down on your face and everything… everything is just more. To quote some songwriter guy that I know, You're my summer in a winter day, love. You make my life better just by being you, Shawn, and I can't believe our mothers get to see their youngest matchmaking clients get married today.”

Anaya rolls her eyes, and Karen sniffs into her napkin. Shawn's grip around her hand tightens. “I wish it were easy to put into words how much you mean to me, but it's the most difficult thing I've ever had to do. And I've seen you at that phase where you used to sign bras and wear snapbacks, so.” Shawn shakes his head, and Nadine chuckles. Sobers down, then, because she knows she's getting to the heavy parts. “People have rooted for us since times immemorial, I guess. We, however, like the couple of dumbasses that we are—” She tilts her head to the side, and Shawn sniffs, “We took too long to see it. Better late than never, though, right? Shawn, I told you that you'd end up with someone as gorgeous and lovely as you. Someone so beautiful and funny that you'd say that you didn't deserve her. So for the last time, and in English now so everyone understands, I told you so.”

Shawn’s laugh is wet, choked, and a little close to crying than it is to laughing, but it warms Nadine's heart nonetheless. “Shawn Peter Raul Mendes, I promise to love you and treat you like you deserve to be loved and treated. I promise to stand by you in the worst of our days, because there's really no else I'd rather turn to. I promise to let you braid my hair if you let me braid yours. I’m really talking too much. God,” She laughs, shaking her head, “Our children are going to have really curly hair. And they're going to have the best father, because you've been nothing but the best. My best friend, my best love, I can't wait for you to be the best husband.”

Shawn’s grinning through his tears, and when Nana Mendes asks Nadine if she’ll have Shawn as her husband and live with him through yada yada yada, Nadine says I do through the biggest possible grin, and Shawn’s barely even listening when he all but shouts I do and he’s smirking and she’s giggling and it’s the sweetest thing the congregation has probably ever witnessed. Shawn’s cousin is still confused as to how Nadine’s not a princess and Catie is popping her non existent collar in pride and the waves are crashing in the background, and fuck, they’re married now, and Nadine can’t believe that this is her reality.

“I pronounce you husband and wife. So go, kiss each other! Go!”

When the two shuffle closer and Shawn’s hand presses into the small of her back and he tips her back like the cheesy fucker he is, Nadine laughs. And when their lips meet, Nadine genuinely thinks yeah, he’s it for me. And she knew that before, but now it’s real. They’re walking down the aisle and people are throwing rice, a tradition Nadine has never understood, and then they’re in the limo, shocked into silence for a moment, and then Nadine giggles and giggles harder than she ever has, and Shawn laughs with her. They’ve technically been legally married since yesterday, but this makes it so much more real. Shawn hands her a glass of champagne, and they toast themselves, laughing about it. She relaxes into his side, curling her fingers in his suit jacket. He kisses the top of her head.

“Hey, hey, Nads,” he murmurs, and she hums. “We’re married, baby. Like, for real married. You’re my wife now.”

She giggles again, feeling drunk already, though she’s only had a sip of this champagne. She thinks she might just be really happy. That feels good. “You’re my husband.” The word rolls off her tongue more easily than she expected. “This is fucking amazing.”

“What if we cancelled the reception?”

“We can’t do that, and you know it. All your famous friends are coming.” She tugs him in for a kiss, letting it linger. “Soon, though.”

They get to the reception—halfway through dinner, John Mayer gives a speech. Nadine was unprepared, but when he calls Shawn his son, she laughs, hard. Maybe she’s already drunk. The first dance happens and she’s not as nervous as she thought, though that’s definitely the alcohol, and also she can see Taylor Mason sitting at one of the tables, looking like the goddess she is, smirking into a wine glass. Nadine leans into Shawn, whispering. “I know we’re married, but Taylor Mason is here and ohmygodshesstillsohot so I think our relationship is over.” Shawn looks over, subtly, and bites his lip, nodding. “Oh she does look good. It’s done, Nads, it’s been a good ride.” They giggle to themselves, and he kisses her forehead. They’re kidding. Maybe. The night is a blur of alcohol and food and dancing and smashing cake in each other’s faces, and by the time they get to their hotel room, Nadine is exhausted. She’s standing in front of her mirror and she’s staring at herself, decidedly happy that she didn’t ditch her wedding dress for a cocktail dress and that Shawn’s still in his dress shirt and slacks when he comes up behind her, snaking his arms around her waist and dropping his head on her shoulder because they look married.

“You look so fucking beautiful, Nads. I don’t think I got to tell you that. So fuckin’ pretty.” He kisses her neck, pulling back and resting his chin on her shoulder.

He’s staring at her through the mirror, and Nadine’s smiling back with the softest of smiles. That’s her husband standing behind her. She really married her best friend, and she really gets to see him smiling at her with her wedding band on his finger.

“I love you, Shawn.”

Shawn lets out an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head. His grin is cheesy when he says, “Oh, thank God. This whole thing would’ve been very awkward if you didn’t.”

“Oh, shut up, bitch.”

“That sure is a romantic way to begin a new, married life,” Shawn presses a kiss to her cheek, his grip around her waist only tightening. She melts into his hold. “You hear that, Nads? We’re married.”

“I can’t believe I said I do to your dumbass.”

“Hmm?” Shawn smirks against her cheek, and his fingers start dancing around her sides. Nadine squeaks, squirming under his grip. “So you don’t want to have amazing, post-wedding, pre-honeymoon sex with your husband?”

Nadine presses her lips in a firm line, trying to keep her giggles in. (Hint: She can’t). She toys with the ring on his finger, turning her head to kiss him square on the mouth, and mutters against his lips, “I do.”

“Not a dumbass anymore, am I?”

“No, you still are one,” She shakes her head, feeling his fingers fumble along her side for her zipper, “But I’m so in love with you that I’m one too, now.”

“Look at us. Two dumbasses in love.”

“Two dumbasses in love and about to fuck reallll good.”

“Oh,” Shawn bends, arms hooking under her thighs. When he all but throws her on the bed, Nadine shrieks, but it’s the giddiest kind and she’s the happiest she’s ever been, “Oh, I think I can take care of that.”

“S’why I married you, babe.”

“Nuh-uh,” Shawn leans over her, knee pressed into the mattress, and a curl breaks loose from his well-done hair, trailing loosely over her forehead. She twirls her finger around it, tugging at it so his head lowers, “I think you married me because we’re stuck together.”

“We are. Stuck together for life, baby.” She smirks, biting her lip. “Now, where were we, husband?”

She likes the sound of that.

permanent taglist: @yellowitsmendes @fuckneymar @heavenly---holland @sinceweremutual @bluerroses @rishlo @shawnjpeg @demolitionloversss @yourwonderbelle @shawnxmendesxo @rechema @curlyfan @yslsaint @posterioriii @maddie-silver @qxeen-of-hearts @xmadwonderland @thtsmileholycow @shawny-blogs @standingandstaring @shawniesbrownies @luvluvxx @chrizzy95 @bcihadyou @sleepybesson @shawnsmoose @grittyisathot @heyits-claire @oahbooks @sinplisticshawn @prttybitchin @royalexperiment256 @shaw-nm-deactivated20191104 @curlyshawny @poppyshawn @cheerfulmendes @mendesficsxbombay @softboycal @pxrrishly @justanotherfangurl272 @tequillasunrisee @shawnssongs @shawnwyr @rockstarshawnmendes @bodaciousbonzi1996 @shawnieeboyy @i-play-video-games @myyohmyuohmyy @shawnsblue @mendols @knee-deep-in-feels @parkeraul @imaginashawnns​

stuck together taglist: @martinimendes @shawnm521 @muffins-cookiesm @petit-funsize @standingunderthisrain @mendesftoakley @ourlittleshawnie @ur-prfctlywrng @siennarossi @oyesmendes @ilovereadingstuff @shawnsmoose @unapologetic-always @manar-sabahi  @justanotherfangurl272 @searchingunderthestars @mutuallynotmutual @accioalena @oyesmendes @etherealchar @stuckonspidey @shawnitsmutual @lostinroses (just asked to be removed or added!)