#I really loved the dialogue between the two dads

[tokkistuff]

"Aren't you worried about the criticism?"

"Did you think the society has changed? Gender equality, diversity"

"But we have no control on how they live it, We can't say which decisions are better for them, they have to decide for themselves"

[serendipitous-seven]

baby if i fall | singledad!Jungkook x f!reader | "I Can't Wait..." series

summary: For nearly a year, you and Jungkook have enjoyed the blissful tidings of your new relationship. But it isn’t long before reality rears its ugly head, forcing you to face your insecurities head-on when Jungkook makes it apparent what steps he is ready to take while you present one of your own that has him squirming. Meanwhile, Mai begins to show signs of unexplained distress. With life hurling the three of you into uncharted territory, you and Jungkook begin to question if you will make it over this obstacle.

pairing: dad!Jungkook x f!reader genre: sequel, domestic au, angst, fluff rating: pg-15 word count: 21.5k tags/warnings: This is a sequel so to understand the storyline I highly advise you read the first part, linked below :] This fic is built around themes of insecurities about physical intimacy. STILL SFW as there are no explicit scenes of such, but there will be dialogue concerning those topics. Romance through out i.e. heavy kissing in two scenes, ‘sex’ is mentioned in a few conversations, a conversation between reader and reader’s mom regarding sex & intimacy. A verbal argument/a bit of yelling, unhealthy communication, Mai experiences distress in several scenes, bullying, topics of absent mother, Mai hits a classmate [it gets resolved], heavy crying, emotional distress through out.

singledad!JK series mlist | make sure you have read the first part before proceeding here

Please proceed by own discretion and caution as these themes can be triggering or uncomfortable for some. While the content is still SFW, I ask minors DNI.

a/n: So here I am with a refreshed sequel, edited and cried over because I still love this little family of mine. It was odd reading this in my current circumstances and feeling heartbreak all the same. It really made me realize and feel proud of how much I just love to write, it makes me feel things nothing else does. Maybe I won’t be healed completely by a story let alone my own, or characters who learn how to respect one another and learn each other’s love languages - but I am learning that this kind of love can truly exist outside of mere fanfiction. I believe in it even if it didn’t find me like I thought it did. I’m growing stronger with time, and I’m really happy I stepped out of my dark hole to edit this and present it. Pls handle it with care, I really put my heart into each fic, whether it’s brand new or re-posted work <3 This is me giving you all a piece of me.

This bliss is addictive, sitting in Jungkook’s arms while your families go on about random things. A silent moment of gratitude sits as intertwined smiles on both of your faces, taking it all in. Both fathers advise you on investing in stocks as Princess Mai is entertained by Jungkook’s mom, “Hamny,” and your mother, “Nunu,” who act as her faithful guards fighting against the imaginary dragon intruding upon their backyard.

Everyone is happy and at ease, obsessed with seeing you and Jungkook together.

“The family that always should have been,” according to Mrs. Jeon. Jungkook shakes his head when she says that but hearing it leaves a fluttering in his chest.

Jungkook’s hand is wrapped around yours as he drives home with a sleeping Mai in the backseat. You both giggle when she snores, almost waking herself up.

Once back at their house, you win a playful fight against Jungkook to carry Mai to bed. You live for this despite her getting a little heavier with every inch she grows.

She moans and groans as you help a very zombified Mai change into her pajamas and brush her teeth before tucking her into bed. Usually the chatty one, she manages to butterfly a kiss onto your nose before rolling over, instantly falling back to sleep, her even breathing filling the silence of her room.

Jungkook is waiting at the door, lost in a dreamy haze after watching it all. He still has to pinch himself, wondering how on earth he managed to get you. Not only as his best friend, which he would have happily kept it that way, because having you was better than not, but to have you and be able to tell you with his entire being, ‘I love you.’ Nothing beats that. Watching you get his daughter ready for bed not only now, but the way you’ve handled her with care for all of these years, it is so different. There is an extra layer of love you have to offer. He wonders if he only sees it now because your mutual love for each other manifests in a new and intimate way. He finds himself unable to fully grasp the feelings that you continue to stir inside of him.

You tie your arms around his neck once he closes Mai’s door, and he kisses you; “Can you take care of me like that?” He teases against your lips. You roll your eyes, returning his affection. Jungkook carefully walks the two of you toward his bedroom. Too lost in him, you don’t question where he is headed until the back of your knees collide with his bed.

It’s only then that you stutter, pulling away from his kiss, but he has an ardent need to show you how much he loves you.

“Jungkook,” you start when he moves his lips across your cheek, pressing them along your jaw, down to the valley of your neck. You gasp, and only then does he stop, his face red with passion.

“You okay?” He chuckles, squeezing your waist with his hands.

“Um, yes-” you waver, but Jungkook, too caught in the moment, takes that as the go-ahead and continues; “a-and no.”

His breath stills, and he stops again. You look up at him with shaking eyes as he looks down at you, riddled with confusion and concern. You move your hands over his chest, staring at his shirt, “I um- I-I’m not ready for this, not yet.”

He understands right away, stumbling back to put distance between the two of you. “Oh,” his voice trembles and his hands drop to his sides, “th-that’s okay, I’m sorry, I-uh I shouldn’t have assumed-”

You rub his arms to assure him you aren’t offended, kissing his cheek. It’s awkward though, neither of you can deny it, hands loosely holding the other as he walks you to your car.

“You can still spend the night-” he starts, but you turn and offer him an empathetic smile, touching his cheek.

“I think we need to cool off.” You chuckle, feeling embarrassed, “Wouldn’t it be kind of insensitive for me to stay with you tonight?”

He melts at the feel of your warm palm against his cheek, snorting. He looks at you with an arched brow, “Why, because I can’t resist you?”

You shrug with a pressed smile, “You tell me.” The exchange is awkward, and Jungkook can see the tightness on your face.

He pulls you in for a hug, kissing the side of your head. You feel shivers up and down your spine when he breathes next to your ear. “I love you, okay?”

You breathe the same words, hugging your boyfriend a little tighter.

Driving home, it’s all you can think about. It isn’t a question of wanting to. You want to. But knowing Jungkook for as long as you have has also meant knowing his life, too much of it.

You scoff out loud, cursing your very thoughts. ‘Can I measure up to those women? Will I be different enough for him to want to commit to me forever?’ It haunts you.

You feel sick and force yourself to think of something else, anything else but that.

“I have a parent-teacher conference with Mai’s teacher on Friday,” Jungkook sighs, his hand stroking your arm. You rest back against his chest, the two of you squashed into a lounge chair while Mai runs around the yard with their new dog, Bam. Every time you see the large Doberman, you want to laugh; Jungkook is never short of surprises and last-minute decisions. You should know that by now.

“Is that why you seemed so wound up tonight?” You tip your head to get a better view of him.

He shuts his eyes, grinning, “On top of this move, yeah, I guess so.” You can feel his body tense up from stress. You turn in his lap, swiping your hand back through his newly, box-dyed hair- another thing you could laugh at if he wasn’t so pressed at the moment, “Did she get in trouble?”

“Depending on how that meeting goes, she may be in trouble with me,” his eyes wander to find his daughter lying flat on the grass, Bam’s generous licks coating her face in kisses. Mai shrieks, carefully pushing Bam away before she’s running again.

“Even though working my business from home now gives me more time to be with you guys, I can’t help her as much with homework like I used to,” your eyes follow Mai’s erratic jaunt throughout the backyard, unable to keep the smile away for too long while you watch her, “maybe she needs a tutor.”

Jungkook pats your thighs, whispering, “I don’t know,” before he tells his daughter it’s time to go in and start her night routine.

Mai sprints past her dad and into your arms, wrapping you in a death-defying grip around your waist. Jungkook’s face blushes at the sight, body overtaken by butterflies, a feeling he’s become used to. He rubs his chest as he watches you walk backward with Mai as she warns you that you’ll run into something, guiding you back into the house.

“Are you spending the night?” Mai asks once inside the house, releasing you.

You brush her hair back behind her shoulders, holding her chin in your hand, “Mhm, so go brush your teeth, bean, then I’ll tuck you in.”

Mai’s face beams with a smile much like her dad’s. Jungkook smiles to himself, listening to the two of you banter while he cleans off the dining room table.

“How come you don’t just live with us at the new house?” Mai starts to hop toward the hallway, unfazed by the weight of her question. You stop in your tracks, “You sleep over a lot anyways!” She adds.

Jungkook’s head pops up, eyes finding you right away. His curious grin is a heavy contrast to the way you start nibbling on your lip. “How observant of you,” you look down at her.

“Daddy said he would like for you to move with us-” Mai turns to grin at her dad, a window of space in her teeth, “he’s just too chicken-”

Jungkook clicks his tongue, face glowing red, “Okay slick, go-uh-go brush your teeth and we’ll be in there in a minute,” Jungkook cuts in. Mai hops away with Bam close at toe.

Jungkook catches your round eyes, “I’m guessing we should talk about that,” he flashes you an innocent smile, “after she goes to bed.” You’re nodding before he can fully finish that sentence.

“Me moving in is not an idea I want in Mai’s head,” you huff, looking over at Jungkook and the smirk on his face. He notices your annoyance, pushing his lips together, “Go on,” he urges you.

“I just wish you would have told me this is a discussion you were having with your kid, babe,” you sigh, putting the last plate he rinsed into the dishwasher before starting it up, “isn’t that something you should be talking to me about, not a 7-year-old?”

“I’m not discussing anything like that with my daughter, she asked if you were going to move with us, and I said it would be nice, but- she brought it up,” he snorts, “not me!”

You bark with laughter, “Blaming Mai, how father-of-the-year of you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook laughs despite your frustration, tossing the rag into the sink before slinking his arms around your waist, pushing his nose into your cheek. You scoff, trying to fight him off, but he proves victorious, as always. Your arms fall limp when he squeezes you tightly before leaning forward for a kiss.

“Cheater,” you say against his lips, “this does not end our conversation.” He giggles this time before kissing you again, “and your stupid little ring here can’t distract me either.” You add, pressing your finger against the piercing on his bottom lip.

He laughs, dropping his head in defeat, “I wasn’t aware a conversation between two people meant one person argues while the other can’t get a word in edgewise,” he pats your side, smirking, “and complain about this all you want, I know you like it.”

You swat his chest in response, “whatever,” attempting to wiggle out of his hold. He finds your determination cute, hardly putting up any restraint against your pathetic attempt to set yourself free; “and it’s hard to argue when you won’t let me go!”

“It’s a lot more fun to argue this way,” he retorts.

Oh, he’s good.

You let out a loud huff, once again losing the fight, “Well, what do you have to say for yourself then?” Your frown only makes his gaze softer, you watch his eyes dart all around your face. You know he’s wondering where he should kiss you next.

“What I have to say is…I am madly and deeply in love-”

“Jung--kook,” you laugh with all frustration, pushing against his biceps that seem to grow by the day, “I am trying to have a very serious conversation right now wherein my boyfriend, you, respects me and listens to my concerns and validates my feelings because this is kind of a major thing!” You take a deep breath at the end of that sentence.

He steals a kiss before letting you go, apologizing. Though you wouldn’t mind hearing Jungkook tell you daily just how in love with you he is, that could wait for a later time. He follows you into the living room, peering down the hallway instinctively to make sure Mai’s night light is on in her bedroom, where she is sound asleep. You hold your glass of wine between two hands, watching him settle onto the couch, his arm draped over the back and resting his head against his palm.

He smiles at you, stealing a sip from your glass, having opted out of a glass for himself, considering he has an early meeting in the morning; “Okay, so Mai and I got a little excited about moving, and you did come up. I’m sorry, baby. But help me understand what’s troubling you.”

You immediately feel heard, a warmth settling in your chest when you realize he has been listening for the last 30 minutes.

“I’m just surprised she would ask that, and a little bothered that you didn’t tell me. But my concern is Mai, I just don’t want to get her hopes up about me moving in with you guys. You know kids, and you know your kid, she holds onto every hope and she is smart. You give her an inkling, and she puts two and two together so fast.”

He nods, sighing, “I hear you and you’re right, but I’m wondering if the issue really has to do with my daughter, and I-” he makes it a point to gesture at himself, “wanting this or you not wanting to move in. I mean, I’m obviously not opposed to the idea, we’ve been together for almost a year now. I’m moving into a new place. Isn’t moving in together the next logical step?”

Steps? You can’t hold in the hefty sigh that sits in your chest. The lingering thoughts loom over your head when you think about the steps you and Jungkook have overcome in just the last few months. Being with him, it’s seventh heaven, yes. Moving on from best friends to best friends that have fallen in love, confessing that love to each other then becoming boyfriend and girlfriend. But with time and a new relationship, it’s you and Jungkook. The two of you know each other well, and that in itself was proving to be a hurdle.

“Is it, Jungkook? Most couples-”

“For us,” he says in a breath, “I’m talking about you and me. We’ve known each other for a long time, been in love with each other for God knows how long before confessing, you’ve helped me raise my kid- moving in together feels right and besides-” Jungkook moves forward, resting his hand on your knee with a careful laugh, “baby, you do sleep here almost every night anyway.”

You abandon your wine for a more serious tone, “because it’s a drive for me to get hom, and I’m always here late. Besides, your new house is a lot closer to my apartment.” It’s the truth, the half-truth anyway.

There’s an odd silence that follows for a few beats. Jungkook looks down at where his hand rests on your knee, fingers playing with the material of your pants; “I know something else is bothering you…” It suddenly becomes hard to swallow when Jungkook looks at you, a certain caution in his eyes as he presents that observation.

You chew on the inside of your lip.

Moving in does sound nice. Being able to work from home and hear Jungkook and Mai come in, maybe even swing by his office for a quick lunch together on occasion. Picking Mai up from school on your days off and bringing her home, a home you don’t have to leave just to stay alone in your apartment when all you want is to be with the two loves of your life.

It sounds perfect.

But…

The but…You hate it. You’ve hated it since the moment it barged its way into your head. It arrived and never left, making itself comfortable as an unwelcome guest inside your mind. Moving in only means things progress from there, naturally. You share a space with the one you love. Share a bathroom. A bed… And it’s not like you and Jungkook haven’t shared those things already. But physical intimacy with each other outside of making out and other forms is otherwise vague in your relationship, you always made sure it stopped before it progressed beyond a point you can’t take back with him.

Jungkook can see the inner workings of your mind appear as a question mark on your face. He wants to ask you, but the knot in his stomach tells him not to. He wants you to be ready to talk about it.

“Come here,” he pulls you into his arms, the way he always does when he isn’t sure about what to say when both of you are at a loss. And it’s nice, it’s so nice to finally be able to do this with him.

“I just want you with us as much as possible,” he soothes, rubbing your sides, “that’s all I’m getting at.”

You nod, “We’ll talk about it more and I’ll give it some thought,” you sit back, holding his hands, “but just-don’t let this be a conversation you have with Mai again, please? I don’t want to disappoint her if it doesn’t happen.”

He frowns, “‘doesn’t happen?’ You mean, ever?” He can’t hide his disappointment.

“Jungkook,” you’re exasperated, “we just haven’t talked about enough yet. Yes, we are in a relationship, but I mean, there are other factors to consider too, right?”

When he fidgets in his spot, you suddenly realize there is space between the two of you. “Are you talking about what happened a month ago?”

You feel exposed, stripped in a way to say anymore, but it’s a thought that’s been in your mind since the issue arose for you, “yes, that is something, but I also mean- well, like marriage? Have you thought about marriage?”

He tries to hide the way his eyes widen. “Is that something you want?”

You bite your lip, “You don’t?”

He sees your expression, the way you’re growing more distant by the second. He remembers the last time this happened, almost to the point of losing you entirely. He makes a last-minute decision to re-close the gap, tying your fingers with his, “okay, so there is a lot we still need to discuss before moving in together is an option then.”

You nod wearily, “which is why we need to leave Mai out of it, for now.”

Jungkook hates to end the night this way, the two of you lost, unsure of how the other is feeling. Instead of sleeping in his arms, you both take to your respective sides of his bed - you staring up at the ceiling and Jungkook, who is lying on his side, stares out of the window.

You pretended to be asleep when you felt him stir at one point, knowing he turned to check.

He lay back on his side, mind running rampant with intrusive thoughts. These questions he wasn’t aware could exist until entering a relationship with you now cloud his forethought. Before, he wondered how he could go on secretly loving you, so desperately wanting you to want him. And now that he has you, his question feels heavier.

‘Can I be good enough for her?’ It booms with such a heavy bass that it irritates his eardrums.

You squirm in your seat, cheek resting against your knuckles as you stare back at your computer screen. The conversation you and Jungkook had last night left you strained, mind occupied, despite the mountain of work in front of you. And by the way both of you struggled to even spare a look at each other when you kissed him goodbye this morning, you knew he was still thinking about what was going on in your mind.

In hindsight, dating for almost a year may have been too soon to bring up marriage. There is still so much to do as a couple, to learn about your best friend turned boyfriend, and even your relationship with Mai is changing ever so slightly. You want time to explore all of that, but Jungkook’s statement, even though it regarded something else for him, kept flashing in red font before your eyes.

‘I’m talking about you and me…’

You and Jungkook. It used to be an unfathomable dream. Now you are living it, and those single words hold so much for you. It’s wonderful and terrifying when you allow the thought to seep in, wrapping its meaning around your bones; it was a part of you now.

It’s nearly impossible not to imagine that kind of future with this man who continues to captivate you more and more. Every day you see Jungkook and you think, ‘Can I really love him more than I already do?’

And the answer is always yes.

Then, Mai dances across your mind, a foolish smile appearing on your lips and leaving Nic to wonder what drug you are on at the moment. She knows, rolling her eyes with a smirk when she notices how distracted you’ve become.

She came over in need of your skill, wanting a new banner and a few extra graphics to dress up her website.

“Ah,” Nic dramatizes a sigh, wheeling her chair over to your desk, “what’s it like up there on cloud nine?” She elongates her words to string you along, looking down at the framed picture you have of Jungkook and Mai, a selfie they took some years back while on vacation. You remember it clearly because Mai had just turned five and Jungkook surprised her with a trip to her favorite amusement park. They sent you that selfie and a quick text telling you how much they missed you and wished you were there with them.

You have to laugh at the obviousness of it all; the three of you were a family before you even knew it.

“I would ask how your love life is but-” Nic looks back at you with an arched brow, “it’s pretty obvious how well that’s going.”

You widen your eyes, choosing to answer her query with a gentle nod.

But it’s Nic, she picks up on everything, even when you get back to work with a set determination. She purses her lips, searching for the right words to form her nosy question.

“I know you have something to say,” you lean back in your chair, pushing your digital art pen behind your ear before returning a sarky look toward Nic, “so no need for consideration - out with it.”

She gives you a look of innocence, fluttering her eyelashes at you, “you’ve sighed like a million times in the last hour, and despite how in love you are, I know you. So either you are exhausted with my presence or-” she drawls, waiting in expectation.

You open your mouth, and Nic is quick to press her finger against your lips, “I know you aren’t that tired of me.”

You push her hand away, laughing, “Okay, okay. It’s stupid-ugh, no. It’s not stupid, actually, and that’s bothering me.”

You think it should be simple, wanting to share in the physical act of love with the man you love.

Nic’s eyes wander your expression for more, steeping in confusion that mirrors the very same inside of you, “gonna need more than that.”

The two of you share in a silent stare-off, a moment that Nic knows is necessary while you try to piece together the tethered ends of your worries; “Mai passively suggested I move into their new house with them, come to find out they talked about it briefly before. Jungkook is all for it and it - I don’t know - it started this whole conversation…” You shake your head, trailing the end of your jumbled mind.

“Okay,” Nic continues to read your expression, noting the bend in your posture and shaking eyes, “okay, not the worst thing he could want considering this is Jeon Jungkook we’re talking-” she stops when you shoot her a flat look, “sorry okay, well, what was the conversation about?”

You round your eyes, “everything.”

Nic sighs your name, “literally giving me nothing to work with here.”

You groan out loud, tossing your head back until it hits the back of your chair, “because it’s not fair, he and I are finally in this place neither of us knew the other wanted until months ago, and now reality has wedged its way into our relationship and- I-I don’t know if we’re ready to answer all of these questions.”

“Questions like?” She motions with her hands to draw you out.

“Having sex!” The words spill out of you, leaving you to burn beneath the flame of embarrassment. It’s enough to make Nic sit back, eyes popped open and mouth slightly agape.

“Not-okay, god-not just that. Our conversation spiraled from moving in together to marriage, and now I’m afraid Jungkook doesn’t actually want to marry me- and before you ask, no, I don’t want to be married right now, but-” your shoulders drop even lower, “it is something I want with him.”

A loud exhale falls out of your friend, “Oof, okay, this is- yeah-this is a lot of baggage.”

“It’s a mixed pot of crap, is what it is Nic,” you groan.

“So,” the tone of her voice drags along, “I’m guessing you guys haven’t-”

“We sound like teenagers,” you roll your eyes, “no, Jungkook and I have not had sex, I wasn’t ready when he was, and am still not ready.”

She nods, “Okay, fair, but uh-that’s um-that’s kind of a bump, right? I mean, maybe not right this minute but I’m guessing you two wouldn’t have come this far if a long-term relationship wasn’t something you’re both aiming for? So, you know, that will become an area that needs to be discussed.”

You drop your head in your hands, “My stupid brain won’t stop patronizing me with his past,” you sit upright, hair askew, “his past that wasn’t that long ago, and- I don’t know…”

Nic sighs, understanding immediately and if she knew any better, was aware of this before you confirmed it, “there it is. Okay, so his past taunts you. Are you worried he’ll cheat on you?”

“No, Jungkook has done a lot of things but no I’m not worried-” you sigh, “I love him, I love Mai, I love the three of us together,” if not for the issue at hand, Nic could hear the musing sound of love in your tone, “but this has been an issue since before I fell in love with him and I can’t get it out of my head, even now.”

“You have to talk to him,” Nic repeats these words you remember so clearly from months ago, “that’s the only way you guys will know what step to take next or how to take it.”

“I know that, and we will, but-” you hesitate for a moment, “what if he really can’t commit to me. I mean, he has me, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want anything else with anyone else, but I can’t stop seeing that look on his face when I mentioned marriage.”

“Look, this isn’t my relationship, babe,” Nic leans in, “and I’m just asking rhetorically here, but does marriage have to define his commitment to you?”

She knows you’ll answer her anyway by the set look in your eyes; “for me, it does.” You hate the way that sounds; “I know Jungkook, he’s been my best friend for so long and now we get to be in love and of course I want to express that to him in every variation we can,” a soft chuckle slips passed your lips, “but just because it is him doesn’t mean I change my standards, even if he is the only guy that knows me so well. For me, giving myself to him? It’s a serious commitment.”

“Don’t hate me for asking what I am about to ask, but does this mean if he doesn’t want to get married, you’re never going to sleep with your man? You’re just going to continue holding hands like Little House on the Prairie-”

A drawn-out scoff bellows out of you, tossing your pen at her, “You are supposed to be helping me, not making fun of me!”

“I’m kidding,” her tone changes with a hint of laughter, left over, “I respect you.”

You feel yourself blush at the prideful smile on you friend’s face as she looks at you; “A lot.”

A few quips are made before the two of you are working again, leaving the conversation to itself.

Drowning your worries about each other in work, communication between you and Jungkook is limited to sending goodnight texts and ‘I love you’s’ for a week straight.

As you make your way to Mai’s school, all you can think about is the last time you made this drive, prompted by a call from her principal, later listening to your best friend of many years tell you he loved you back. If it worked out then, somehow this could all work out now. Pulling into a visitor’s parking spot, something churns in your belly, the unknown making you skip a few steps of the staircase as you trail into the building.

There is a smell to every school that immediately launches you into some nostalgic place of remembering, pulling open the door to the main office before politely telling the secretary you were there for Mai. After confirming the emergency call list, she directs you back to the office where the principal is waiting at her desk. Mai’s teacher, Mrs. Yoon, is standing off to the side and offers you a head nod with a meek wave.

Instantly, you spot Mai, her body limp in the chair and head drooping. She isn’t swinging her feet like she often does when they can’t reach the ground, and she isn't playing with the hem of her shirt. The little girl hardly spares you a breath when she hears you call her name softly, rubbing the top of her head with a careful caress.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Ms. Park says, flashing a tight smile at you. “Mrs. Yoon has informed me that Mai was caught arguing with another classmate today, it appears she called her a name.”

Both teachers see the confusion blanket across your face, solidifying even for them the oddity of this entire ordeal. Mai has always been an obedient little girl, and though she got in trouble like any other child from time to time, this was outlandish for the Jeon Mai you’ve known since birth, “I’m sorry?”

Mrs. Yoon nods regretfully, “During reading hour, the two girls who share a table were going on and on. I initially thought they were just chatting, but when I made my way over, Mai-ehm- she called the other student, ‘stupid.’”

Mai’s head drops even lower, your eyes boring into her.

“Aside from her recent decline in class participation and work, we have never experienced any trouble with Mai before, not like this. So we are just as surprised as you but,” Ms. Park folds her hands over the desk, “we can’t treat her like any special case - she will need to come back on Saturday and serve a detention. We will send a letter home to her father about weekend work to make up for her missed assignments.”

A long sigh escapes you, nodding.

After the meeting, you make a call to Jungkook knowing it would be better to warn him rather than bombard him with the unfolding of his delinquent child. Mai drags herself to your car, staying a few feet ahead of you.

“Hey,” you breathe slowly when he picks up, noting the way Mai tenses her shoulders because she knows who you are talking to. In the background of the call, you can hear him driving, “Are you heading to another showing?”

“Nope,” he lets out a fake cheer, “finished up early, why?”

“Brace yourself,” you say slowly into the phone.

“What’s wrong? Is Mai okay?” The panic rises in his tone but you are quick to settle it, opening Mai’s door so she can hop in. She avoids your eyes, buckling herself in before you shut the door.

You stay outside of the car, “apparently, Mai called one of her classmates ‘stupid’ today.”

“What,” Jungkook laughs, disbelief apparent in his voice, “you’re kidding.”

“I don’t know who was more shocked, me or her teachers, but it’s true and sweet little bean has jail time this weekend,” you try to soften the blow with a small joke. Jungkook groans, his palm landing in a firm slap against the steering wheel.

“Alright,” he curses, “alright, I’ll see you girls in a minute.”

Your attempt to fill the quiet drive proves to be a failed one. “Bean?” You flit your eyes between the road and a sulking Mai in the backseat. She doesn’t acknowledge you, her chin sitting in the palm of her hand. She traces patterns onto her pants with her finger, bottom lip hanging low.

You clear your throat, pulling into Jungkook’s driveway. Mai sees him first, waiting at the door with his hands shoved inside his pockets. She groans, planting her forehead into her hand.

You pinch a smile as the two of you walk up to him. Jungkook kisses your cheek, his hand wrapping around the back of Mai’s neck while the three of you walk into the house. You put Mai’s things away while they walk into the living room. A force hangs around the little girl’s ankles the longer her father is silent. He tells her to sit on the sofa while he pulls up the ottoman, sitting right in front of her.

“So…?” Is all he says, clasping his hands together.

Mai’s chin falls against her chest, heavy breaths falling out of her nose, making it apparent she has no interest in discussing her mistake. You occupy yourself with Bam, quietly taking a seat out of Mai’s eyesight.

“Jeon Mai,” Jungkook tightens his tone, “you already have detention tomorrow, you want to be grounded next weekend too?”

Mai gasps, picking her head up and looking at her dad like he’s just betrayed her in the worst way, “Daddy that’s not fair, I didn’t even do anything!”

Jungkook’s pierced eyebrow quirks, “So calling your classmate stupid is okay?” He frowns.

Mai flings herself back into the cushion, her frown a carbon copy of her dad’s, “She deserved it.”

“Mai,” her name comes out as a harsh whisper from your mouth. Jungkook looks at you. Your body rattled from such a brazen thing for a 7-year-old to say, you disappear out into the back. Jungkook’s eyes are already back on his daughter, who is watching you out of the corner of her eye.

It was never easy to discipline Mai, especially when tears were sitting in the corners of her eyes. No matter how large her mistake, Jungkook often teetered on the edge of caving because he couldn’t stand seeing his daughter cry or hurt in any way. But he stiffened his upper lip just like every other time, leaning forward in anticipation of her side of the story.

Mai’s eyes smoke with frustration when she opens her mouth to say something before closing it again, “Never mind,” she mumbles, head falling back against the sofa cushion, “nobody ever listens anyways,” her tiny voice argues.

“We’re going to your classmate’s house so you can apologize, Saturday after-”

“No!” Mai yells, a look of horror painting her tiny features, “Daddy, I don’t wanna go to her house, I already said sorry in Ms. Park’s office-”

“No exceptions,” Jungkook shoos Bam out of the way, Mai’s protector. At any sound of distress, the lanky dog appears to assure his miniature owner is safe; “what’s going on, huh? First, the teacher-parent conference, and now this?” You note the slight spiral Jungkook appears to be in.

Mai sniffles, using the back of her hand to wipe her eyes, “I don’t care about school,” she whimpers. Crocodile tears staining her perfectly round cheeks.

Jungkook expresses his exhaustion with a sigh, a deep breath rounds his chest before he inches closer to his daughter. “Come on bud, you’ve always loved school- what’s going on?” He wipes each tear that follows.

Mai hiccups a couple of times, her teardrops only growing larger and making the ache in Jungkook’s heart greater. He swallows back the lump forming in his throat, allowing Bam to nestle himself between them, resting his snout on Mai’s knee. For a moment, the three of them are stuck in the center of a storm, Mai’s deep cries filling up the space.

“What is it, baby?” Jungkook soothes her, his tattooed hand grabbing onto her small one. Her broken words are the only sound heard for the next minute before she musters up the courage to speak.

“Th-there’s a dance,” Mai cries, her tiny body taken over by emotion. She looks at her dad when he tells her to take a deep breath, following his instruction a few times over.

“A dance?” He asks softly, rubbing her fingers between his.

“Mhm,” Mai nods, eyes red but the tears have stopped flowing now, “f-for kids and their moms.”

Jungkook inhales, eyes closing for only a second before he’s staring right into his daughter’s eyes. He can’t allow her to see the break in his own eyes, “for moms, hm?”

“That girl was asking me about my mom, and I got mad,” Mai pouts, her finger tracing one of Jungkook’s tattoos, “I called her stupid…”

He breathes in through his teeth, nodding, “okay kiddo, listen to me-” Jungkook takes Mai’s chin, directing her to look at him, “you understand why you gotta’ apologize to her, right? And properly?”

Mai just nods.

“Okay,” he sighs, dropping his hand to engulf both of hers in one, “I am sorry you are hurting, bean. You need to tell me these things as soon as they happen, yeah?” He squeezes her hands, “How else is Dad going to know when you need my help unless you tell me?”

“’Cause I-it’s embarrassing, daddy,” Mai’s voice cracks, “it’s not fair that I don’t get to go j-just because-” Mai frowns, “it’s just not fair.”

“No, it’s not, but you know what you got, right?” Jungkook pulls Mai’s hands to rest them on top of his shoulders, his hands moving to hold her around her ribcage, he utters your name and the mere sound of it creates a thin smile on Mai’s face, “and you have a Hamny, Nunu, and two poppas- you even got this dummy-” Jungkook and Mai look down at Bam who is in desperate want of some love himself, “and you have me forever, Jeon Mai, you can’t forget about me.”

He reaches around her neck and taps his fingers there gently, swimming in the sound of his daughter’s giggles. Bam hops around the furniture as the sound of Mai’s repaired joy leaps out of her body, seeping into the walls of her bedroom.

After sorting out her punishment, Jungkook leaves Mai to start her homework, slipping through the sliding glass door to find you. You look at him as he makes his way over, a look of wonder on your face, “I was sure they were talking about the wrong kid.”

Jungkook presses his eyes shut, shaking his head.

It was a long week, and all three of you were feeling it. From work, school, and the wavering questions surrounding your relationship. You hesitate for a moment before wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s waist, kissing the center of his chest, then looking up at him.

He groans, dropping his hands to rest on your sides, “I thought we settled all of this at the parent-teacher meeting last week.”

“Oh, you never did tell me what happened,” you say, resting your chin against his chest. He smooths his hands up and down your back, the two of you looking at each other. Neither acknowledges any reason for the week-long radio silence.

“Yeah-um,” his eyes strain, the vein in his neck protruding, “apparently math isn’t the only class her grades are suffering in,” he lets you go, “she’s almost failing math actually, hasn’t brought home her science homework for the last couple of weeks, isn’t reading their assigned book for the year-” he shakes his head.

Your sharp inhale alerts Jungkook, “What? This isn’t like her-”

“I know that, I know my kid,” he spats back.

He catches the surprise in your face, noting how short he’s been in the last week, too.

“I’m sorry, I’m just-there’s a lot going on and it seems to be happening all at once,” he breathes, reaching out for you to grab his hand. You move forward on weary feet before taking it, allowing him to pull you into another hug.

“We’ll figure this out,” you assure him, rubbing his back, “maybe-um, just focus on Mai right now, she’s important.”

So are you, he thinks to himself.

He leans forward and pecks your lips, “Maybe we can de-stress,” he kisses you again, “in the hot tub, after she goes to bed.”

Suddenly, your tongue swells, depleting you of any sound response, eyes struggle to meet his. The embers of desire stoke inside of you, but everything else wills you to create distance. If not for Jungkook’s mindful hold around you, you are sure you’d fall back.

“I can’t,” you feign disappointment, “I shouldn’t, it’s the middle of the week.”

He questions you with a look.

You lean up to kiss his cheek before moving his arms from around you, “Not tonight, Kook.”

“Okay,” he feels dissatisfied with your reason, following you back to the front door. Before you can get into your car, Jungkook tugs your arm, bringing you back to him.

“Jungkook,” you breathe tirelessly.

“Need a favor,” he laughs, “for Mai.”

Your ears perk up, body relaxing in his arms. Jungkook pretends not to notice the way you tensed initially.

“Um-there’s a dance, I guess, for uh-well for the kids and their moms-”

A small gasp escapes you, “Oh no.” Your heart launches into your throat, face falling.

Heart stuttering in his chest, your reaction for Mai always so deep he can feel it inside of himself, “you think you’d want to take her?”

“Of course,” you say in a breath, “oh my gosh, of course I’ll take her.”

All he can do is repay you in the way he’s most confident in, hands squeezing you before he peppers your lips with kisses, “I love you.”

You push his face back, skin warming beneath his touch, “You know I’d do anything for her.”

His eyes twinkle as they drink you in, but you can see a measure of worry in them; “I know we have a lot to discuss,” he starts, “but we’re gonna be okay, yeah? You and Me?”

You want to settle his worry, but fear invades you like a virus and gnaws at your stomach, “just - one thing at a time.”

You feel his hold around you faintly loosen, but you mask it by telling him you’ll help him pack up some more boxes since Mai wasn’t going to be around Saturday. He’s disappointed, but rather than question you, he thanks you and opens your car door, pulling your chin to kiss you goodbye.

Jungkook lays in bed that night, becoming too familiar with this sleeplessness. His hands lay behind his head while he stares up at the ceiling, watching your weariness paint a picture across the white expanse of his bedroom.

He recalls this helpless feeling when you walked away from the cruise ship, leaving him with the notion that you were done with him entirely. Mai enters his mind and an audible scoff comes out like poison, forcing him to shut his eyes because he can’t bear that pain. But it’s a burden he is forever vowed to in order to protect his daughter. Despite how apologetic she was, he could see something brewing in her. Not like anything he’d seen before when this issue about her absent mother would come up.

All he wanted was in his hands: his daughter and you. As sleep finally rained over him like a heavy storm, he couldn’t help feeling like what he finally had a grasp on was beginning to slip through his fingers.

“I swear there’s an echo, listen-” you stop to allow quiet into the empty house, looking at Jungkook who is smirking at you, “HELLO!”

Jungkook pretends to listen with anticipatory glee, eyes gliding across the vast space of his new home while Bam sniffs around the tiled floor.

Silence.

You pout, opening your mouth to try a different sound before Jungkook gently places his hand over your mouth, “just admit defeat, babe- this is hard to watch.”

You click your tongue, pushing his hand away, only for him to grab your arm, turning you in one swift motion that has your head spinning, caging you in his arms. His voice vibrates against your back and into your ear: " You are cute, though.” His words are muddled when he kisses your cheek.

“Clingy,” you shoot back as he walks the two of you around their new living room.

He chuckles, squishing your cheeks when he turns your face so he can kiss you.

“Alright,” you argue, ducking your head away when you realize he doesn’t just want a single kiss, “let’s move Mai’s boxes into her room,” you squirm until he finally releases you, “I want her new bed to be built so she can see it and like me more than you.”

He tongues his cheek, “Really?”

You hold your hands behind your back, turning about to portray the picture of an innocent girlfriend, “yup.”

“Okay, let’s make a bet,” he says, eyeing the box filled with pieces of Mai’s new bed frame, a light bulb appearing above his head, “I’ll carry all of the boxes in if you can build her bed by yourself.”

Your eyes pop open, “By myself?”

He tips his head, crossing his arms in expectation of you waving your white flag. But it doesn’t surprise him when you slit your eyes together, lips revealing a pearly smile, “deal, Jeon.”

The two of you become lost in your work. At first, the tasks sound unfair. You build while Jungkook unloads the truck; easy! But when you peer out of Mai’s soon-to-be bedroom window every so often, you realize Jungkook received the short end of the stick. The edges of summer are making their way into the city a little early, and today the sun is blazing. Jungkook abandoned his shirt an hour into it, tying it around his head so the sweat wouldn’t drip into his eyes.

You purse your lips, the sun rays doing a fantastic job at highlighting your boyfriend’s sharp muscles.

Building and a show?

“What are you smiling about?” Jungkook appears with one of Mai’s boxes. You’ve been caught in a daydream and stutter your way out of it.

“Oh-uh, how glorious it’s going to be when I finish this first and get to sit back with Bam while you unpack that truck,” you lie.

Jungkook squats in front of you, “I thought you loved me.”

“I do,” you tap his nose with the flathead screwdriver, “I can love you and relax at the same time, can’t I?”

Jungkook laughs it off, leaning forward for a kiss, and when you motion to meet him the rest of the way, he dodges you and stands upright, laughing his way out of the room and leaving you with puckered lips and a curse to his name.

But who gets the last laugh? You think to yourself as you stand over Mai’s completed bed some hours later. Hands on your hips, Bam prances in and bumps your wrist with his nose.

“Not bad, huh, bud?” You press his floppy ear between your fingers, caressing his favorite spot, “let’s go rub it in your dad’s face.”

It wasn’t long ago that you heard Jungkook moving boxes into his bedroom down the hall, retracing his steps toward that room with a trophy smile on your face and a taunting remark at the helm, “Kook?”

All of that seeps away when you find him lying back on his naked mattress, hands folded on his stomach, and t-shirt back on. The sweat has since disappeared from his hair and his skin hasn’t a trace of red tint from the sun. He pokes his head up, “Finally.”

Your mouth drops open, “How?”

He laughs, head falling back and eyes relaxing, “You were so concentrated on finishing her bed, I didn’t want to bug you, but I enjoyed my forty-five-minute nap while waiting for you.”

You blink, mouth tightening when you hear a tapping sound.

“Winner gets cuddles,” he sounds off, his hand patting the space next to him, “come here.”

You stubbornly cross your arms instead. After a few seconds that feel like a lifetime, Jungkook sits up on his elbows. “Or I can toss you over my shoulder and tickle you instead, your choice, baby.”

You drag your feet over to the bed, crawling next to Jungkook but not before pushing him back down with a forceful thud against the pillowy mattress. You lay back in a huff, ignoring the way he’s snickering at your sore-loser mentality.

He clears his throat, “waiting…”

“Tch-” you throw your arms straight up into the air, allowing him to curl into your side, his arm lying across your chest, and head resting right next to yours. He lets out a contented sigh when you drape your arms around him, smirking when he feels your fingers card through his hair. As much as you hate losing to your boyfriend, the sore feelings never last when he cuddles into you like this.

You can feel him watching you, and you turn to playfully argue, but the twinkle in his eyes spark a fire in the pit of your stomach that makes you forget everything.

Before you can say anything, Jungkook is bringing your head closer to his until he pecks your lips. “Thank you for building her bed,” he says in a mindful tone; “I hoped we would do it together, but you looked determined.” His fingers threaded in your hair start to massage your scalp.

“I was,” your voice almost doesn’t make it out, making Jungkook giggle. He hums into another kiss against your lips, moving to hover over you this time. His hand is imprinted into the side of your neck, thumb sweeping across your jaw until it’s pressed against your chin.

It’s like pulling teeth when he moves away to take in your expression, your body hurdled into a war despite becoming pliable to his touch, your hand having inched a good distance beneath his shirt, but he has to see your face first. Neither of you says anything, allowing you to hear the alarm going off in your head.

Jungkook closes the gap, body on top of you. His lips brush against your skin, leaving it to tingle when he latches onto your neck. His hands move lower, seeking out the hem of your shirt.

You start to frown when he’s successful, moving his fingers underneath the material, effectively causing the imaginary alarm to blare around you. Mind aware and heart battering in your chest, you pull your hands away from his stomach and find his wrists, gripping them so tightly that Jungkook hisses.

“S-stop,” you say against his mouth, and Jungkook reacts with a cat-like sense, pulling back; “we have to stop.” He places his hands on either side of your head while his eyebrows knit together. You let out a shaking breath, pulling his arm up and away so you can roll off the bed and onto your feet.

He breathes a broken apology, “I misread-”

“I-um,” you’re chasing after steady breaths as you smooth your hair down, “it’s almost time to pick up Mai.”

Jungkook sits back on his feet, trying to hide his confusion because he can feel it from you. For those few minutes, you and Jungkook are finally on the same page.

Both of you aware there is still another hour or so before she gets out of school, he nods anyway.

After eating dinner together on a blanket in the middle of their empty house, Jungkook practically has to chase after you when you go out to your car. He’s impressed, albeit a little hurt too, at how quickly you get in before he can give you a proper goodbye. But not wanting to tip off his daughter that something weird is happening, he just waves as you back out of the driveway.

“Did you leave your homework out so I can check it?” Jungkook asks Mai once back at their old house, tucking her into bed.

Mai rolls her eyes, answering him like she has been interrogated, “Yes, Dad.”

He clamps his hand over her face, gently jolting her head side to side until she’s laughing, both of her hands wrapping around his wrist, “might want to re-think the way you answer me, bud.”

“Sorry,” she finally says once he releases her. He kisses her cheek, steeping in the few seconds she reaches her arms around his neck for a hug before he wishes her sweet dreams.

He falls onto the sofa with a loud huff, wine glass in hand, while the other is patting Bam’s thigh. There is hardly a time he didn’t enjoy having you there with him. Some nights with the two of you snuggled under a blanket watching a scary movie, others spent talking out in the backyard until it was time to go to bed, and the rest, kissing until you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer. Admittedly, he enjoys those nights because he can watch you sleep for a little bit.

But tonight, he needs the time alone, even if his mind is ravaged with worry. The worry that started as a seedling the night you told him you weren’t ready was only growing. It started to sprout when you mentioned marriage.

Jungkook is more than willing to wait; that isn’t a question. Is it hard?

He sighs, eyes clamping shut; it is very hard. And not because he can’t control the need in him, but because he loves you. He wants to express that to you, and if he knows you at all, he can sense the same in you.

So what was stopping you?

His eyes pop open, temples throbbing when the answer bleeds into his brain.

Flashes of you throughout the years replay in front of him like an old film strip. Recalling the time after you both confessed, when you described to him the sheer aches in your body any time he talked about some date he went on. Or how sick you felt when he would leave a club with another woman running her nails against his back.

He curses when a vivid memory invades him, it doesn’t matter how tightly shut his eyes are. He can still see the look on your face.

After a night out with friends, you were ready to call it a night. Jungkook never carpooled, considering his after-party plans always varied. You roll your eyes at the thought, forcing it away because, at least for one night, he actually wanted to stay with all of you.

With your friends gathering their things, you ask Nic for her keys so you can wait in the car. She tells you Jungkook asked for them a little bit ago- something about a co-worker calling him, and he needed to take the call somewhere quiet. After two failed attempts at calling Jungkook, you text him this time.

[1:04 AM] to Jungkook: we’re coming out now, meet us at the car.

Off you go, surprised because, as tipsy as you are, you remember where it’s parked. You grimace as your feet pound, swollen from a night of dancing, as you make your way over. Spotting the car, you don’t see any sign of Jungkook, assuming he is already sitting in the back.

Pulling at the handle, you don’t hear the heavy breaths and sounds of ecstasy at first (also escaping you is the sheer terror that puts a stop to those noises when they hear the car door swing open).

It’s only when you bend to get into the backseat do you lock eyes with a friend of a friend before noticing her wrinkled dress. Worse, though, is when you look over a few inches and see Jungkook’s wide eyes blinking back at you.

All of you curse apologies before you slam the door shut, making for the building in a desperate jog back to the group. You can no longer feel the splitting pain in the heels of your feet, or how tired your legs are. You’re certain that how you just found your best friend, in a very compromising position with this woman, has sobered you up completely. Going amiss is the way Jungkook is buckling his belt and calling after you when he and the friend hastily fix themselves before stepping out of the car.

He abandons his glass of wine, dropping his head back against the sofa.

Jungkook wants you. He has so much he wants to prove to you. He wants to know what scares you but what he doesn’t expect is how vulnerable he’s been feeling. Marriage? He doesn’t disagree that there are still things to discuss.

He wonders if that ache in your body that you felt all that time ago is the same feeling pressing against his bones now.

“I know that look all too well.” Your mom walks back into the living room, finding you sitting with a cat in your lap, your attention taken by the ceiling they just had redone.

She meets your eyes with a knowing smile, patting your knee when she sits at the other end. The cat stretches and abandons you for her mother; “traitor,” you pout, lovingly swatting her fluffy tail. She spares you a single blink before cozying into your mom’s lap.

“Out with it,” your mom forwards the conversation. You want to laugh, hearing yourself in your mom.

Your fingers tingle with nostalgic feelings of a hormonal, teenage girl. Your mother can see the way you begin to blush beneath your skin, her senses causing her to draw back in a way that she knows can draw you out.

“Jungkook and I-ehm-” you struggle to start, “uh-we’re coming to our first- pothole? In our relationship, but it’s-ugh, it’s a big pothole, Mom.”

“Okay,” her eyes carefully observe you and the way you retreat into yourself. The daughter she raised, who is naturally so modest, so much so, you didn’t tell her when you first started your period until a week later; “something that has you feeling- hmm- nervous, maybe?”

“Mm,” you hum, picking at your fingernails despite the fresh manicure you just had done, “it’s weird, mom.”

She chuckles, “You want me to turn away while you tell me?”

Your expressionless eyes find hers in a deadpan. She presses her lips together apologetically, remembering all those years she would do so whenever you had something embarrassing to talk about with her. She chuckles when you nod before looking down at the purring cat in her lap.

You drop your face into your hands and laugh, though nothing about this is that amusing to you, “god if I can’t even talk to my own mother about it, how am I ever going to do it.”

“Honey,” your mom spats, “maybe start by using the proper terminology for it, you’re an adult for heaven’s sake, just say, ‘mom, I’m having trouble with the idea of making love-’”

“Oh, mom,” you grimace, covering your ears like a child, “please, I remember the crash course you gave me on proper sex terminology when I was in high school, okay?”

Your mom laughs, patting the cat’s behind until it jumps off, “Oh, you are too modest for your own good- okay okay.” She moves over to you, pulling your hands away from your head and placing them in your lap, “I’m all ears- whenever you’re ready.”

You drop your head back, resting it against the back of the sofa.

“I’m not going into grave detail-”

“Nor do I want you to, sweetheart,” your mom cuts in.

You close your eyes, lips tipped into a half smile, while your skin boils with sheer embarrassment.

“You and Dad- did you guys wait until you were married?” You’re surprised when the question makes it out into the open air. Your mom is quiet, pulling you to look at her. She answers with a simple shake of the head.

“How did you- when did you know you were ready?” You ask.

Your mom tips her head to the side in a thoughtful manner, “he proved to me long before that I was safe with him, his actions said a lot more than any of the sweet words other men used prior to when I was with daddy.”

Your eyes widen at the thought of your mom’s previous love life, abandoning that thought before it produces further in your head.

“I don’t feel unsafe with Jungkook,” you start to think more deeply, “he makes me feel heard, seen, and very wanted-” you breathe a soft laugh.

“Good, it’s what you deserve,” your mom nudges your chin with her knuckle, winking at you when you look at her, “but it’s okay if you want to wait until marriage honey, and Jungkook is a good man, raised with a lot of love, and by the way he could hardly take his eyes off of you the last time we were together, I can see he loves you and respects you. He’ll wait if those things continue to motivate him.”

You know those truths, you believe them. Jungkook is a good man who had a colorful love life that he readily abandoned for you. You know how understanding he is and to some degree, you know he would wait. Marriage. You want it, you want it with him, but Jungkook’s seeming hesitance to it makes the knot in your stomach grow.

“We’re human, we have natural desires, especially when we are in love with someone, and that’s okay too.” Your mom lifts her eyebrows when you give her a certain look, “What is it that’s making you hesitant?”

“What?” Your tired expression is clear on your face, causing Nic to push her hand against the door when you move to close it; “I am here to pull you out of your hole of self-pity,” she quips.

You sigh, too worn to put up a fight. She returns the same expression as she walks into your apartment, turning to face you when you shut the door behind you.

“You have to stop this, this isn’t healthy for you or for Jungkook, who has no idea why you’re ghosting him,” she parrots the same lecture she’s been texting you for the last week. You don’t respond, tilting your head to the side while you cross your arms.

“Seriously-”

“God, Nic, I don’t care, okay?! I told you this would never go past what I am choosing to keep to myself.” You spat.

Nic calls your name desperately, “Do you really believe that?” She waves her hands to keep you from answering that, “Okay- whatever if you do, but how do you expect your friendship with Jungkook to last when you randomly cut him off like this? I know he’s annoying, it can be questionable the number of women he sleeps with but it’s his life. Like, come on, the guy has zero clue about your feelings. So he’s going to keep doing what he does best if you never tell him.”

“Nic-”

In her frustration, Nic, who is usually sound, has come to her wits end about it; “This is a waste of time anyway, the guy can’t commit to a single thing.”

You inhale sharply, misty eyes looking into your lap. It was the only fight you and Nic had that carried scars, though the two of you worked it out soon after. You apologized for roping her into that mess while she apologized for speaking so thoughtlessly.

“I just want to be sure he is committed to me first,” you admit, voice as small as the pattering feet of a garden mouse.

Your mom nods, pinching her lips together in a sympathetic smile, “I am sure he wants the same thing, sweetheart.”

Busy schedules and tempered feelings create more time away than you consciously intended. While seeing them for only a few hours at a time as opposed to your usual nights with them, Mai and Jungkook are in their last week at the old house. Walking into its near emptiness, you’re glad you brought the things you had to help Mai get ready for the dance.

Jungkook doesn’t outwardly question the recent distance, having filled his time with more open houses than he normally would. He has to remind himself to stay grounded while keeping you in his grasp, while his daughter has been growing quieter by the day.

It surprises him when she jumps into your arms, running her mouth a mile a minute about how excited she is that you both bought matching-colored dresses for the dance. Jungkook barely has a chance to kiss you before Mai pulls you down the hallway to start getting ready.

You curl the last piece of Mai’s hair, feeling her dark eyes fan over you for the umpteenth time through the bathroom mirror. With bobby pins between your teeth, you let out a breathy laugh, combing your fingers through her curls.

“Something on my face, bean?” You twist a section of her hair and pin it to the back of her head, doing the same on the other side of her face.

“Na-uh,” a faint smile wiggles onto her face, hands busying themselves with the hair products strewn across the bathroom counter. Her eyes move up to yours once more, alight with Jeon-like wonder.

You protect her eyes with your hand, “deep breath and hold it,” you instruct her, a cloud of hairspray falling over her perfectly done hair, “there we go.”

Mai opens her eyes and beams back at her reflection, eyes darting up to your face and for a moment, you see that light in her flicker brightly.

“Woah, look at my girl,” Jungkook surprises the pair of you, leaning against the door frame. Mai squeals, pushing past him and running to her bedroom, “You can’t see me yet, Dad!” You and Jungkook laugh; “geez, Kook,” you tease him, pecking his cheek before retreating to Mai’s room.

Jungkook ventures off to his room, getting himself ready to be a chaperone for the dance. An adoring smile appears on his face because any small gesture like the joke you made, gave him hope that the two of you would always be okay. For that minute, he didn’t worry about the right timing or what your future together looked like aside from knowing you wanted to be together forever. Jungkook knew that much.

After taking a slew of photos like it was prom night, the three of you walk into the school auditorium with Mai bouncing in her new dress shoes you bought for her, her hands holding tightly onto yours and her dad’s. She wears a proud smile, missing teeth and all, beaming up at you, she wastes no time begging you for a dance.

“Have fun,” Jungkook motions to kiss her forehead when she takes a large step back. Small voice struggling to voice off above the loud music, “daddy,” she whines through gritted teeth, “my friends are here.”

He frowns, grabbing both sides of her head and planting a kiss on her forehead; “My hair!” She squeaks.

He makes quick work to smooth down her curled tresses, “Deny your dad’s kiss again and I’ll kiss you on the lips next time, bean.” Jungkook playfully threatens Mai.

You pinch back a smile, rubbing his shoulder, before Mai pulls you into the mass of mothers and daughters. Jungkook doesn’t steep in reverence over his daughter’s attitude for long, conversing his way through a crowd of parent-acquaintances before finding a place against the wall where he can watch the two of you.

Lost in that sight, he doesn’t shy away from smiling and giggling to himself. Jungkook pushes his hands inside his pockets, making it a point to silently tell himself to remember this exact moment. A smile stains his daughter’s lips while she looks up at you, and if he concentrates enough, the music disappears, and instead, he hears her giggling when you spin her around twice. Mai’s eyes are shut, lost in a fit of laughter, struggling to stand on steady feet, her arms wrapping around you to keep from falling. Your head tosses back, caught between breathy laughs as your hands hold onto the little girl’s shoulders.

“Mr. Jeon,” a familiar voice calls out to him. Hesitantly, he takes his eyes off you and Mai and sees Mrs. Yoon. He shakes her hand, a warm smile appears on her face when she looks over at his daughter.

“Nice to see her smiling,” Mrs. Yoon admits, “she’s so quiet these days, I almost miss how chatty she was during my class, not sure if her other teachers would agree-” she chuckles, shrugging.

Jungkook rocks back on his feet, agreeing quietly.

“How is her classwork?” He inquires. Mrs. Yoon tells him it still needs improvement, but with more diligence on Mai’s end, her grade should pick up before school lets out for vacation.

The two settle for polite chat before Mrs. Yoon leaves him be. Jungkook finds the two of you again, stomach churning as he recalls that shift in his daughter. How evident it’s become in the last few weeks, especially without you there as often.

But tonight, he smiles, watching his daughter. No traces of her unexplained silence or that she is a little less talkative and hyper. He just sees Mai, the light of his life.

A laugh slips out of him, drawing others around him to look in the direction his eyes are fixed. A new song starts to play, and Mai jumps when she realizes what’s playing. Her mouth rounds, arms sticking straight up, “It’s our song!” She shouts at you.

Your lips curve into a wide smile, heart palpitating because she remembered you telling her months ago that this song reminded you of her. Mai screeches with glee when you lift her into your arms, her arms tying around your neck. For a moment, a toddler Mai appears right before your eyes, and you remember how her hands could not quite yet reach each other when she held you around your neck. An unexpected rush of love swells your heart just like it did all those years ago.

Mai giggles close to your ear as the two of you sing the lyrics together. You pull your face back to watch her expressions; her happiness creating an insurmountable feeling of ecstasy. It’s overwhelming and everything you need. Holding her in your arms, you hope it’s the same for her.

Jungkook blinks away the tears spilling in his eyes, his cheeks hurting from how long he’s been smiling. He starts singing the lyrics to distract himself, recalling that night.

It had become a tradition of sorts, ending dinner out in the backyard so Mai and Bam could use up the last of their energy. You and Jungkook would watch them, sometimes joining in on a game of tag or hide and seek.

He looks at you for a second, smiling when you start to giggle. Your eyes watching Mai; “what?” He asks.

“Hm,” you chuckle, “this is my ‘Mai’ playlist,” You turn to look at him, revealing a bashful smile, “this is our song.” Jungkook makes an effort to listen to the lyrics that utter sentiments of an enchanting meeting.

Before the song can end, Jungkook makes his way over to the two of you, making himself the only dad out on the floor.

He brushes his hand down Mai’s hair who was too lost in hugging you while the rest of the song played.

“Oh, hey,” you chuckle, Mai’s cheek still pressed against yours. Mai is quick to move her arm around Jungkook’s neck, pulling him close until his nose bumps your other cheek. The three of you giggle, making room for an extra set of feet. Jungkook settles to wrap you both in his arms, his left arm hugging your waist while the other rests around Mai’s.

He kisses the side of Mai’s head, a long sigh slipping past his lips when he finds you, your eyes already on him. You hear a few clicks of the school photographer’s camera nearby, allowing them to capture this moment of the three of you. Mai sings along to the song while holding onto the two of you, you and Jungkook sharing in a silent conversation. But you can hear him loud and clear, the love he has for you reaches across and ties around your heart.

“I love you, bean.” You press a long kiss on her cheek, coming back to see a blushing little babe, “thanks for taking me to the dance.” Mai holds your cheeks, showing you her smile because she knows how much you love to see her missing teeth, “love you,” she follows.

“You have fun?” You chuckle, tucking the comforter around her.

She nods, “I think we danced the best,” she yawns. Brushing her hair out of her face, you push your finger into her cheek, “We did, you’re a great dance partner.”

Jungkook appears with a soft giggle, his shirt untucked and feet now bare. He comes over to say goodnight, bending down to kiss Mai before sitting on the edge of the bed. For a moment, it’s quiet, you notice Mai look up at you then back at her dad.

“I need to tell daddy something,” she starts, “but you can’t be here.”

You roll your lips in, trying not to laugh before granting them their privacy.

“What’s up, bud?” Jungkook leans over Mai’s legs, propping his head against his hand.

“Mm,” Mai purses her lips, “it kinda’ felt like-” he can see her cheeks growing red, eyes struggling to meet his. He assures her with a smile, reaching over to brush his finger across her chin, “You feel happy?”

Mai nods, pulling her blanket up to hide the smile growing on her face, “It felt like I had a mom.” Her words come out quickly and muffled behind the blanket.

Jungkook’s heart stutters, finger tapping against his daughter’s cheek, “yeah?”

Mai nods again, “but don’t tell her.”

Jungkook drops his head, laughing into his daughter’s mattress.

He kisses her goodnight once more, allowing Bam to sleep with her for the night. Mai rests her small hand on top of Bam’s head when he lies on her stomach. His puppy eyes looking up at Jungkook; “just tonight,” he reiterates.

You stare at your phone, re-watching a video of you dancing with Mai that one of the moms sent to you. Jungkook slides his arms around your waist, causing you to jump up, “god,” you laugh with him, leaning your head back when he kisses you there.

“What’s that?” He muffles into your hair, twisting his head around to kiss your cheek before he’s resting his chin on top of your shoulder. His hands glide across your stomach when you play the video.

You feel his chest bounce against your back when he giggles, “Guess I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed watching you guys,” Jungkook admits. You turn your head to look at him before kissing his forehead.

It doesn’t take much for Jungkook to become lost in you, completely wrapped up and overtaken by absolute love. His lips hardly detach from yours when he turns you around in his arms. Heavy breath fanning over your face. Admittedly, you can’t deny what he stirs up in you. These feelings that battle against the fears demanding to be felt by you.

He groans against your kiss, pulling away to drop his forehead against your shoulder. You bite your lip, knowing already what’s starting. You rub the back of his head.

He reappears, his pupils blown out into hundreds of tiny hearts, “I love you,” he blushes, breathy chuckle escaping him, “this is going to sound like the douchiest thing I’ll ever say to you but, I love you so much it’s starting to hurt.”

A battle of tug of war starts inside of you, one end of the rope tugging you closer to Jungkook. You rub your palm down his cheek, your soft laugh falling in his ears, “it’s a little cringe but-” you shrug, your other hand dropping around his hip, “I love you, too.”

He closes the space, seeking out your lips. That rope inside you tugging you back when his palms smooth over your hips before pressing into them with his fingers. He walks backward until your lower back hits the kitchen counter.

“You’re so good to us,” he whispers into the kiss he’s pressing against your ear. Biting your lip, your hands push against him- everything in you wanting to give in. And for a moment, with your boyfriend’s lips trailing down your shoulder, you feel that wall begin to crumble brick by brick.

“I love you,” he parrots against your skin, tattooing you with another chaste kiss.

He stops, pressing his forehead against yours. You fall into his dark pools, a spark in them blinding you. All at once, the bricks build back up, and the need to protect yourself jolts through you like a lightning bolt.

Out of body, you can feel when Jungkook’s hands brush across your bottom, but in your place is another woman. You can’t see her face, you just know it isn’t you. He’s holding her close, his lips tantalizingly grazing her skin.

“Kook,” you stutter.

He moans in response, lips pressed against your clavicle, warm tongue pushing beyond the seam of his lips. A different woman appears this time, body stamped with Jungkook’s languid and thoughtful touches.

Your mind wages a war between the man in love with you and the man from the past.

He doesn’t commit. He loves you, but he won’t commit to you.

“Jungkook,” you push with more fervency, but you see the haze over him. You see that look in his eye that he’d given countless women on your nights out as friends. Just friends.

“Stop it-” you push him away, and his body gives at the first sound of panic in your tone. His hair is disheveled, lips stained with you.

“What-” he tries to piece together some sort of understanding, breathless.

“Don’t you listen?” Your tone is so defensive, it causes a piercing pain inside of him. Your shoulder hits him as you make your way to the door.

He drops his head, eyes clamped shut, while something bigger brews inside of him.

Of course, he hears you. He always hears you. Not having you, that wasn’t the entire problem.

All of these thoughts ravage his mind, and he follows you like a trailblazer, shutting the front door before you can escape.

“What are you doing?” His irritation only sets yours ablaze.

You pull your arm away before he can touch you, “trying to leave-”

“No,” he struggles through frustration, “why are we skirting around this? Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I have the right to say no-”

“Baby,” he tosses his hands in the air, an exasperated laugh falling out of him, “shi- of course I know that. But I’m at a loss, we’ve been all over each other enough times before, what changed? Kissing you is starting to feel like I’m forcing you-”

You shake your head, “I’m not one of your women, Jungkook, don’t treat me like them.”

His face falls, everything on his body falls; your name draws out of him, “I’ve never seen you as anyone else but the woman I love-the woman I have so much damn respect for…”

“Then commit to me,” your voice shakes out of you, surprising even you, “prove to me that that’s true and tell me you’d want to marry me.”

Jungkook drops his head, tongue pushing into the side of his cheek.

A tempered laugh falls out of you, “or should I sleep with you first? Would that make it easier for you to commit-”

“What are you-are you serious?” Jungkook cracks, “How much more can I prove to you?” The shattering in his eyes bores right into you, “Do I need to tattoo it onto my chest-” he grabs the collar of his shirt and yanks it open, “to prove to you that I love you and I am dedicated to you? Wh-why do we need a stupid piece of paper to prove our love for each other? What does it matter if you can’t trust what I’m saying- if you can’t trust me?”

“Why don’t you want to get married? Why is it stupid?” You rap back.

“Because!” He yells out of frustration, hands tossed forward, “I’m afraid you’re just going to leave me! What good does a paper do when you can’t even stand me touching you? It won’t make you stay-” his words drop like an atomic bomb, an eerie silence following.

He sniffles, barely able to look in your direction. Your hands ache from how tightly fisted they are, chest weighed down from holding back the tears inside.

“Just go,” he opens the door, “if you really believe I’ve only seen you as some other woman this entire time, still? Then leave.”

You blink, flashes of the past taunting you before you escape to your car. Jungkook stares at the door after you leave, defeat washed over him.

Jungkook throws himself into packing up their house and moving into the new one. Between work, taking care of Mai, and moving, he isn’t allowed to think about anything else, too tired by the end of the night to lie awake in bed. The only time he entertains a thought about you is when Mai sleeps in her brand-new bed for the first night.

Jungkook sends you a picture of it, Mai giving a thumbs up, sitting at the head of the bed you built for her. A second later he FaceTimes you and for a moment you hesitate to answer, waiting to the last second before you hit that green button.

Mai’s face appears on the screen, you notice the downward turn in her eyes immediately before she’s distracting you with a loud thanks. Her smile makes the butterflies in your stomach come alive.

When she’s done talking, she hands the phone back to her dad. His eyes struggle to keep their focus on you while he tells Mai to get under the blanket, “We’re uh- we’re still good for next week?” He finally looks at you. You nod. He has a brief trip for a seminar, leaving Mai to stay at your apartment for a couple of days during the week.

“Can we bring Bammie-” Jungkook is already cutting Mai off, telling her he’ll wreck your apartment by his sheer size. You chuckle, enjoying the father-daughter moment before Jungkook tells you goodnight. He stalls for a second, running his teeth over his lips like he does when he’s thinking about something.

I love you.

“Goodnight,” you fill in the gap before hanging up.

“Listen,” Jungkook starts, and Mai can hear the immediate stiffening in his tone when he sits next to her, the double-size mattress allowing him the space now, “just because you’re sleeping over there doesn’t mean you stop doing your homework-”

Mai whines, her head falling back dramatically. Jungkook tells her to sit up, holding his hand around her neck when she lulls it to the side, “I am serious Mai, this is the third time I’m meeting your teacher about your schoolwork, enough is enough.”

Mai whips out of his grip, wiggling beneath her blanket and pulling it tight so he can’t get to her. Jungkook sighs, “You know we can talk about anything that might be upsetting you, right?” He looks down as she thins her lips, big eyes avoiding his stare.

“What’s gotten into you? Somethings’ gotta be going on, bean…” His worries expand, wondering if he’s missed a tell-tale sign because he’s been so distracted trying to keep his relationship with you intact. The doubt he has about being a good enough partner for you is taken by his doubt as a father. A doubt he hasn’t felt since Mai was born, even now, it runs deeper.

“Nothing,” Mai mutters, hugging one of her stuffed animals against her chest, “I wanna sleep, Dad.”

Jungkook nods, blinking slowly, “I love you…”

Mai turns away from him, pressing her head into the pillow, “love you.”

For a few minutes you enjoy watching Mai eat her snack, missing the way she can’t normally sit still and talking with a mouthful. She still smiles when she finds you looking, but there's a lack in her eyes that has you wondering the same questions her dad does.

Her eyebrows raised as she tosses a baby carrot in her mouth, “Are you and Dad gonna break up?”

Your eyes widen, “I see subtlety is not your strong suit, smarty pants…how do you come to these conclusions?”

She rolls her eyes telling you she has no idea what that means before bringing her point home, “you and dad were yelling after the dance and dad never yells unless I’m in real big trouble,” she emphasizes with her eyes, “or when Bam used to poop in the house except dad scared-yelled then, not angry-yelled. I think Bammie is his favorite now-”

“Mai,” you laugh, “really?”

Mai pokes out her bottom lip, tipping her shoulder up in a very matter-of-fact way.

A smirk leans across your lips, “Need I remind you, you are seven-”

Mai holds her hand up after taking a big bite of the sandwich you made for her, a little bit of mayo left on the corner of her mouth, “almost eight!”

“Yes, but you’re still a kid who needs to mind her own business,” you say, reaching over to pinch her nose.

“Just saying,” she defends herself, “plus, you aren’t staying for sleepovers anymore either…”

You stay quiet, pressing your cup of chilled tea against your lips.

“You probably wouldn’t want to anyways, the new house is sad,” Mai sighs, “everyone is just sad.”

A pang of guilt runs through you, “that everyone include you too?”

She leans her cheek against her hand, “even daddy and me are fighting…kinda’.”

You click your tongue, leaning across the counter to be closer to her, “Your grandma has been filling me in - what’s that about?”

She shrugs, mumbling, ‘I don’t know.’

You take in her mostly expressionless face, but her eyes tell an entirely different story of the one she isn’t saying.

“Hey, cutie,” you tap her chin, causing her to look up, “you know I’m here, right? I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know,” she surprises you with a quick response, “you promised me.”

You comb your fingers back through her hair, “and look, just because your dad and I are dealing with adult things,” you arch an eyebrow to make your point, “doesn’t mean he’s upset with you about it- so maybe go easy on him, hm? He’s just worried about you.”

“If I have to do that, why don’t you do it too for daddy?” Mai retorts. Her eyes shoot open when she realizes what she’s just said, retreating into herself; “sorry.”

You brush the comment away, clearing your throat.

“All he does anymore is ask about my dumb grades,” Mai starts again, pouting this time, “or if I was good in class and nice to the other kids.”

A sympathetic smile widens your grin, “Well, your track record hasn’t exactly been spotless lately…”

“I’m trying still,” Mai reasons, “daddy doesn’t see it, nobody sees it, but hello? I’m still a kid, I can’t do everything!”

You spat, dropping your head because somehow, Mai always finds a way to let her spunk shine.

“Well,” you come around the breakfast nook and stand next to her, “let’s keep trying and do some of that make-up work you have, or else we will both be in trouble.” Mai hops off the bar stool and takes your hand, the two of you walking into your living room.

Jungkook returns from his brief trip with a little bit of hope, having seen how much Mai perked up with you through short videos she sent from your phone or selfies of the two of you posted on your social media.

When he called to check in on the night he arrived at his hotel, there was a moment he thought you would talk. A shift in your breathing had him preparing the words swimming in his mind, wanting more than anything for you to know he is still in this. But somewhere his courage to talk about it was lost, he couldn’t be sure if it was you or him that redirected that conversation before you said goodnight. You both knew a conversation needed to happen. Jungkook makes an effort in a roundabout way by asking you out for dinner a few times. But swamped with two deadlines, working from home conveniently keeps you busier than before.

It’s both surprising and unsurprising when Nic tells you she’s staying out of it.

“You don’t listen to me anyway,” she said in a recent phone call, “because for some reason you like to torture yourself and you’re going to hate me for this, but- you like to torture him too, with silence. I’ve known you two long enough to know your patterns and- wait no-nope, nope nope- I said I was staying out of it, so I’m zipping it…”

You couldn’t deny it.

“I’m pulling up to the school now,” Jungkook tells you over the phone, a sigh dripping from his lips when he puts the car in park, waiting in a line of cars with the other parents, “you’re heading over now?”

“Mhm,” you answer, “just realized I don’t have a key to the new house though-”

He looks down at the extra key he had made for you when the house was officially signed over to him months ago, keeping it on his keyring because he initially planned to ask you to move in before that plan was - postponed? He blinks, coming out of his thoughts, “I’m sorry, it’s been uh-”

“I know,” you breathe. The sound of it eases over Jungkook; “I bought some groceries to make dinner for all of us,” Jungkook can hear you nervously chewing on your lip between sentences, “then I thought maybe-um- we could have some alone time after Mai goes to bed, to talk…”

His lips stretch upward with relief, “Yes, please.” His eyes find Mai who is walking out of the building with her friend. Her friend whispering something close to her ear; innocent little secrets, Jungkook thinks to himself.

He hears you gulp, “Maybe I should save this for later, but I’m sorry and I love you-” Jungkook can feel his heart fluttering, eyes still watching Mai, when the next sight of her has his heart plummeting into his stomach.

Did she just smack her friend?

A few teachers nearby see it, rushing over to the two girls when Mai raises her hand to repeat her previous action.

“What- Mai!” Jungkook stretches his head out toward the open passenger window, the streak of panic in his voice has you almost dropping your phone; “what’s wrong?” You ask in a frenzy.

“I need to call you back.” Jungkook hangs up before you can answer. He rips his seatbelt off and hurries off to the curb in a few brisk steps, grabbing Mai’s arm to pull her away from her friend. The little girl is crying, holding her hand against her head where Mai slapped her.

“What are you thinking?” Jungkook scolds Mai when she starts to cry, pushing against his leg in an attempt to set herself free from his strong grip.

“Mr. Jeon,” Ms. Choi, who was standing near the entrance, called him in a shaking tone, “let’s go to my office, now please?”

Mai’s friend and mother are ushered off to the nurse's room for an ice pack while Jungkook and Mai pile into the principal’s office along with the teachers who witnessed it.

He can’t deny that he just watched his daughter hit her friend, nor does he try, his skin hot with frustration as Mai tries to excuse her way out of it. Her words are jumbled by her erratic crying.

“I’m going to go talk to them in a separate room,” Ms. Choi says, still a little shaken, “give her a chance to calm down while I get their side of the story.”

“Daddy,” Mai cries to Jungkook when the principal leaves the room.

He turns his head, eyebrows straight on his face, “I don’t want to hear it right now-”

“But-”

“When we get home, Mai,” he raises his voice enough to quiet her.

After a lengthy discussion, with little to no explanation given by Mai once prompted, the principal decides she has no choice but to suspend Mai from school for the remaining weeks left until summer vacation. She informs Jungkook that Mai only has make-up work she needs to complete in order to move onto the next grade.

“I hope you understand why we need to do this, Mr. Jeon,” Ms. Choi says in a softer tone, a certain telling on her face before she continues, “I know single-parenting is not easy,” she lets out a heavy sigh, “my-my husband passed away a few years ago.” Jungkook can feel himself crawling beneath her pity, “but we will not tolerate physical violence. We’ve had Mai with us for seven years, and we’d love to have her back for the new school year, but only if these issues are handled accordingly.”

He doesn’t say anything more than agreement and an apology following Mai’s bitter one. His hand fits around Mai’s elbow as they walk back out to their car. She struggles beneath his tight grip, proving unsuccessful when he opens the door for her to get into the back; “you’re being mean!” She yells. Jungkook takes a deep breath, tossing her bag into the back, using all his control not to slam the door shut.

The drive is silent besides Mai’s whimpers, short words uttered that Jungkook is too angry to hear himself. Too confused. The only settling he feels is when you get out of your car as they pull up, a lost expression on your face when the two of you make eye contact.

“Hey bean-” you’re cut off when Mai brushes past you, her tears and anger very evident. You look up at Jungkook when he retrieves her things, his head shaking. You rub his back as the two of you walk up to the door, letting Mai in, who is ready to run to her room.

“Stop,” Jungkook’s voice booms through the once quiet home. Bam, who was eager to welcome all of you, retreats to his bed; “Come back here, Mai.”

Mai turns back at the sound of her dad’s tone, eyes flitting past you, and you can see the embarrassment. You know he wouldn’t talk to her like this if it wasn’t serious, but your heart aches at the way her cheeks start to turn red; “I’ll uh- I’ll start dinner,” you look down at Mai whose arms are crossed, tears still running down her face, “maybe you should take her in your room, Kook-”

“Daddy won’t listen,” Mai surprises you both, her small voice rising in volume, “I don’t wanna talk!”

With wide eyes, you meet Jungkook’s less than pleased ones, though you know he is stirring beneath shock as well; “Mai, you don’t raise your voice at-”

“You don’t hear me, nobody hears me!” She screams at him, hands fisted so tight as she runs off to her room.

Jungkook starts to follow her when you squeeze his arm, eyes begging him to stay. The strain in his face has you feeling for both of them, “give her a minute.”

Jungkook curses, parts of him healed when he feels you rub his arm, “I have a showing, I can’t cancel again-”

You pat his shoulder, “Go, I’ll um-I’ll do what I can here after she cools off.”

Jungkook thanks you with a silent stare, stepping forward to kiss you when he stops himself. For a moment, he’d forgotten about the unsettled ground the two of you are standing on. You grab his hand and rub his palm, “Go, babe.” He kisses the palm of your hand before he rushes out the door.

You busy yourself with dinner, chopping up vegetables, starting the rice, and preparing the meat, while you’ve given yourself enough of a pep talk before journeying towards Mai’s room.

“Bean,” your tone is careful but direct, knocking a couple of times before inching the door open, “it’s just me.” You poke your head in, eyes immediately falling on the bed where Mai is face-planted into the pillow. You have to bite back a smile, moving over carefully.

You stroke her back once before sitting next to her. For a minute, you think she might be sleeping when you hear her sniffle, her small body jolting, which tells you she is starting to cry again. You can’t help but feel a pang in your chest, knowing there needs to be some sort of discipline. But whatever occurred, the sheer pain it’s causing Mai becomes most evident to you.

“You gotta’ come up for air at some point,” you giggle, tears casting over your eyes, “come on, little one.” For that moment, Mai is the tiny baby you need to save.

You continue to run your hand up and down her back, moving her hair out of the way. Mai refuses to sit up for the first few minutes, but when she finally does, her reddened face struggles to find you.

You wipe her tears away and brush her hair back before leaving for a few minutes. Mai’s cries are quieted when you return with a dampened face towel.

You press the warm towel around Mai’s face and to the back of her neck, repeating those motions while the strain begins to seep out of her slowly; “my mom used to do this whenever I was upset-” you tell her.

Mai finally looks into your eyes, her long eyelashes are wet and clumped together. But you can see a slight shift when you smile at her, “always made me feel better.”

You can see the questions in her mind, maybe wondering how well you’ll listen to her.

“Feel like telling me what happened?” You settle into her bed, sitting back against the headboard. Mai stays stiff for a few seconds, eyes wandering back toward you until she’s scooting back herself. Her arm rests next to yours, fingers playing with the fringe around her pillowcase.

Hearing about Mai getting physical and slapping her friend makes your insides jump. You watch her explain what Jungkook must have seen, trying to keep your mind focused on her voice rather than the questions permeating there. It’s only when Mai starts to cry, looking up at you, do you realize something more is creeping beneath her unexplained anger.

So you wait, taking Mai’s hand in yours while she cries, her head finding a place against your shoulder. You know even more how confused her dad must be, and when she starts to talk again, you know nothing could prepare him for this.

“There was a n-new girl in my math class,” Mai is disrupted by a heavy cry, swallowing back as much as she can before she continues, “my friend told her I don’t have a mom-”

The wind is knocked out of you, you shut your eyes, hand accidentally tightens around Mai’s.

“And they all started to make f-fun of me-me,” Mai hiccups.

Your heart shatters when Mai tells you the bullying began months ago, when school started. Thoughtless words meant to hurt her, taunted by a group of kids who were eventually joined by Mai’s friend. You press your lips together, holding back cries of anger and sadness, every emotion becoming a deluge inside of you, just waiting to break free.

But you continue to wait, only stopping Mai to remind her that she can still breathe.

“I called that girl that mean name because during reading time-” Mai finds you again as if to make sure you are still listening and you nod, wiping her tears though they continue to fall, “because she-she would say mean things about me not having a mom li-like they do.” Mai’s face falls against your arm; you wrap your hand behind her head.

“I thought that if-I thought if you came to the dance with me, they would stop because you’re kinda’ like my mom,” her staccato cries jump against your arm where her mouth is pressed.

You turn to face Mai, holding her wet face between your hands, “It didn’t stop,” she cries, “they just got meaner.”

“Mai,” you’re at a loss for words, breath thinning as you pull her into your lap. Her cries deepen when she feels you cradle her in your arms, pressing her face against your chest.

All you can do is let her cry, her tears staining your skin and wetting the collar of your t-shirt, “it’s not my fault-it’s not.”

“No, it’s not bean,” you can’t stop the tsunami from flooding out of her, pressing kisses onto the top of Mai’s head while repeating that truth.

No. No. No. This is not your fault.

Bam finds his way in at the sound of Mai’s sorrow. You hold her as closely as you can, her uneven breaths casting over your neck as she continues to cry there. At some point, her tears become lost with yours as you think about the year she must have endured.

Quietly. Silently.

It all adds up.

“I love you, Mai,” you say in a trembling breath, “I am so sorry you’ve been hurting.”

Pain finds form in various ways, like the way your eyes strain from crying. It moves you to look down at Mai who has cried every tear she can, her eyes pressed closed and swollen now. Your hand has become numb from where it’s stayed around her back, the other brushing through her hair. Nothing else existed in those moments while you held her. The evening of her breath, the tears that eventually stopped, the way her small hand rested underneath her cheek, that’s all that mattered.

Her whimpering slows into short hums as you rock back and forth, the slow movement allowing her to feel the first peace she’s felt in a while. Her long body barely fits in your lap like it used to, but neither of you cares. A few times she looks up at you, before she reaches up to wipe the stray tears you shed yourself.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” she squeaks, voice hoarse.

You smile despite it all, “You are worth every tear, bean.” A memory of Mai as a baby, held in your arms, rushes you. She notices the way your eyes water again, causing her to smile this time.

Four teeth missing, you think to yourself.

“We’re babies,” she jokes, hiccuping from the last few cries that still sit in her chest. You lean down and nuzzle your nose against her forehead.

“Hey-” Jungkook’s voice appears, neither of you hearing the front door when he walked in. His eyes lift when Mai looks at him, the obvious face of his crying child clear to him. He then moves over your face as you wipe it dry, noting to himself the way you are holding Mai, much like you did all those years ago when she was a baby and Jungkook asked you to be at his old apartment with them.

“Daddy-” Mai sounds breathless for a moment, rushing out of your arms and into his. He doesn’t hesitate to lift her into his embrace. He questions you when she holds him around his neck, the sound of gentle sniffling starting up in his ear.

“Mai needs to talk to you,” you breathe, and Jungkook can hear the unevenness in your tone. So he walks back to the bed, sitting Mai in his lap when he sits next to you.

Mai looks at you, waiting for that nod of reassurance. Your hand searches for Jungkook’s, wrapping your fingers around his when Mai starts to tell the same story to him.

The sun has fallen, and crickets chirp from their places in the backyard. A smile finds its way on your face, thinking about the security you felt wrapped around you when Jungkook hugged both you and Mai. Once he learned about the bullying, all he could do was hold onto his daughter, bringing you with them. Mai cried with him while you braved your tears away for the time being.

His hand brushes your shoulder when he comes out, slotting himself between your legs this time, his back against your chest. You ease his head back until it rests against your shoulder, combing his hair back with your fingers.

You can see the tears still there and the way he tries to blink them away, eyes searching the black sky painted above you; “I can’t believe I didn’t know this was going on.” Jungkook’s breath is unsteady. It stays quiet for a beat before he sits up, moving to sit next to you, his body leaning forward.

You watch this pillar of a man, the love of your life, crumble. Eyes blinking rapidly to phase the tears away, you touch his back with a cautious hand. His eyes are wet when he looks at you. “I’m trying,” he laughs desperately, “I’m trying my best here because I love my kid.”

“Jungkook, you have been an excellent father. Nobody is expecting perfection, especially Mai. All she wants is your love, and you’ve never been short of giving that to her…” The crease in your brow deepens. “There’s a lot to figure out, and we’ll start by going to the school tomorrow.”

“I called Ms. Choi after Mai fell asleep - gave her a brief explanation,” Jungkook says, “we’re going to meet tomorrow with those kids and their parents.”

“Good,” you brush your thumb over his ear, “I can-I can go, if you want me-”

He’s already nodding before you can finish, “We need you there.” Your heart squeezes at the despair in his voice.

You see it in his eyes that he’s not just talking about Mai. You feel your throat constrict when he doesn’t turn away from you, sitting upright; “god, I’m trying here too - to understand you. Trying to figure out what works best for us because I don’t want this to end. I am committed to you…” All of this rolls out of him.

You bite your lip when it starts to tremble.

“I know why you stopped talking to me all those times back then, when you caught me,” he shakes his head, “I hate thinking about it, knowing now how you felt about me, I get it.” He looks at you, fingers finding yours; “it still hurt though, not having you to talk to or to be around even if it was just for a few days we didn’t talk- I always knew something was wrong.”

The determination to hold your gaze sits bright on Jungkook’s face, traces of guilt in your fingertips that rub across the tattoos on his hand; “I never imagined marriage in my future- and maybe it’s not fair for me to be afraid but,” he lets out a disheartened laugh, wiping his face, “how do I marry someone that runs away before we can face the problem, someone who looks, I don’t know, horrified, whenever I touch her?”

Your eyes fall into your lap, tears dripping much like Mai’s did. Jungkook turns until his knee hits yours, his hand moving to rest on the side of your thigh. It’s love that you feel when he starts smoothing his palm there.

“That night, after I stopped you in your bedroom,” you sniffle, following courage to lift your head and look him in the eye, “I st-started to see all of these women just there every time you kissed me or touched me. They taunted me, made me feel incompetent…” you laugh, tears falling one after the other.

Jungkook loves you with his eyes, waiting on bated breath while you string together every word you can; “Jungkook I want to take the next step but, I have a lot of fears when it comes to that with you and I started to believe there was no other way to commit but get married, an-and I want that too but-” he never takes his eyes off of you as you continue to work through your words, “I’m afraid, I’m afraid that I won’t add up to whatever you are expecting from me.”

He leans in closer and wraps his hands around your neck, moving them across your skin so you can feel him, him - Jungkook- the man you love, “you…that’s all I expect is you, you are all I want.”

Your face falls, and as a wave of relief crashes over you, you realize the thing you feared most held the answer you’ve so desperately needed.

“I respect you,” he continues, dropping his hands to rest on top of your legs, “I don’t want to do anything you aren’t ready for… I also just love you,” he sniffles a brief laugh, “I want to show you that.”

You move your hand behind his neck, tenderly rubbing his skin, “I-I want to too-I really do. I just-” you sigh, carefully piecing together all you’ve observed about this man over the years, “you don’t have to always be physical with me to show me you love me. Y-your love for me goes beyond how you can make my body feel, Jungkook.”

It’s then he realizes the crutch he’s used for so many years before dating you.

If nobody was willing to accept his love, at least they would accept his body.

But here, sitting with you, having you next to him? For the first time, Jungkook takes a deep breath and lets it all go. You love him for the man he is inside, as torn as he may be in parts, you accept him despite your own fears.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, moving your hand down his arm until it lands safely inside of his. He takes your fingers and threads them through his. “I’m sorry for making you feel like this.”

“I’m sorry too, baby,” his eyes dart up to yours. A tender laugh falls out of you, stomach doing flips as you pull your boyfriend in for a hug. He feels safe wrapped up in your arms, and you revel in the way he leans his weight against you.

“It is us, Kook,” you chuckle into his hair, “if we figured out as friends how to raise a whole kid, we can figure out what loving each other looks like.”

Jungkook sits up, a smile now stretched across his face. For a moment, the sunlight catches that small ring on his lip, causing you to giggle. He puts his hands around your face this time, “and I do love you, I’ll spend forever showing you that.”

Desperate to feel him, you lean forward until his lips catch yours.

“Me too.” You whisper.

With more clarity, life doesn’t stop the three of you from moving with the whirlwind of constant motion. Mai’s summer vacation starts on hopeful ground, but the matter between those kids and Mai is brought to an abrupt end when Mai’s friend confesses to everything. Within that first week of the summer month, the other kids follow until the situation is brought to full light. Mai was still reprimanded for hitting her friend, and with tutoring sessions once a week, Jungkook’s daughter was already blossoming into the wonderful little girl you both have raised.

He marveled at her when she expressed one day that she wanted to move on and start at a different school. “I’m not mad at my friend anymore, but I wanna make real friends,” Mai said, popping her head up from the coloring book in front of her while you and Jungkook cuddled underneath a blanket, watching a show you had quickly become addicted to. You rested your cheek against Jungkook’s chest, rubbing his stomach when you felt him sigh. A wide smile spread across his cheeks.

You settled for the kind of awkwardness that fell over the kitchen one night when Mai let ‘mom’ slip out when talking about you, soon after she was seeking a hiding place behind her dad, who stood still as stone. After coaxing Mai into your safe hold, the two of you determined that the endearment was to be determined. Mai settled the matter entirely with a reassuring hug that flooded your body with more love than you knew what to do with.

The three of you celebrated with a weekend getaway at the beach after your home business reached its first milestone. You and Jungkook chasing Mai and Bam, who officially graduated from puppy training school, around the sand. Bam barked after Mai whenever she swam too far from him as he watched her from the shore with you next to him, wanting his little, loyal companion to be by his side at all times.

In the last month of Mai’s summer vacation, you often found yourself observing the little girl in silence. Wondering what on earth life would’ve been like if she had never come to be. It didn’t matter how; it just mattered that she was here, born to a father who was once so terrified but now he walked this tightrope with his daughter safe in his arms. And a dog to boot.

There were several nights of tears following her experience of being bullied, some nights when she muttered words of a lost identity she would never know because of her absent mother, something far too complex for a young girl to comprehend. You were there for all of them, sitting there with her and Jungkook and taking in every ache Mai had to share. You assured both of them you would continue to be there for the years to come. It wasn’t easy, and there were times Jungkook had no clue what to say. But where words failed, he mended her wounds with long hugs, cuddling her to sleep with you hugging Mai on the other side of her bed.

Once she was safe in her dreams, you and Jungkook made it a point to be together. Learning the comforts of intimacy in other ways drew you closer to Jungkook. Talking about fears when they came up. Working to understand why one was feeling a certain way. Feeling your heart grow in size, the images of his past began to fade away until they no longer existed. Kissing Jungkook became yours again, being held by him - something only you knew with him.

Jungkook steeps in this feeling, as secure as he’d felt with you as his friend, he was starting to understand it while falling for you, it was growing stronger with each day. Watching you fight away those demons, not allowing them to hurt you anymore, he was realizing how prized he was in your eyes. You loved him in a way he never thought he deserved. And as much as he was eager to get to a place where he could share himself with you, he was learning this kind of love needed respect to feel how true it was.

It was still rocky, but there was a clear path forming, and the two of you made sure to remind each other when needed, that it would always be you and him.

Living this life begins to settle into place, it nestles into a part of you that leaves you sure about the decision you’d been mulling over since it was brought up.

“Really?” Jungkook’s face mirrored the childlike glee you saw so often in his daughter, excitement so simple. It made your insides burst when Jungkook lifted you into a hug, “You really want to move in?”

You just nod, lips bunched into the brightest smile that Jungkook knew he would remember forever.

You can’t help but recall that night as you fill your side of the closet Jungkook made for you, unpacking boxes one at a time. Your eyes widen for a moment when you look around you, feeling slightly suffocated by what was left. Jungkook was helping you before he had to start dinner for his parents who would be coming over.

“Baby?” He calls from the hallway.

“Yeah?” You shout, putting a blouse onto a hanger when you hear him enter the closet.

“You forgot a box-“ he says.

“Huh,” you arch an eyebrow, looking at all of your boxes, “no?“

You turn around to look at Jungkook, who’s standing straight like a pin, a dish towel draped over his shoulder. Mai comes in giggling, leaning herself against Jungkook’s legs and hugging him there.

You laugh, “I’ve got them all here…“ Your breath stills in your throat, forcing you to stop when your eyes drop to the small box in his hand.

The sound of your heartbeat pounds in your ears, everything begins to move slowly, “Kook- wh-what is that, what are you do-“

Jungkook lowers to one knee and opens the box to reveal a ring, breath shaking out of him when he starts to speak, “I love you,” a nervous giggle interrupts him, “baby, it’s you and me, it’s always going to be us - will you marry me?”

Mai can’t stop her giggles while yours hiccup out of you, nerves tingling in your fingers, causing you to drop the blouse in your hands, “are you serious?”

All he can do is nod, swallowed by his own nerves, while Mai can’t contain herself.

“Yes- what? Yes, Jungkook,” you start to cry, emotions pulled between disbelief and sheer ecstasy. Mai’s excitement explodes, jumping around the two of you when Jungkook stands and swallows you in a hug. She wraps her arms around your bodies, cheering into her dad’s side.

An unexplained peace rushes you when you pull Jungkook back to look at him. All you can see for that moment in time is the man you love, you see his tears and feel his arms around you. He mouths an ‘I love you,’ that has you doing the same, Mai’s joyous noises pressed into both of you while you share your quiet moment.

You and Jungkook breathe small laughs while setting the dining table when Mai answers the door for her grandparents, shouting, “She said yes she said yes!” Before greeting them properly. Jungkook’s arm wraps around your hip when he goes to kiss the side of your head, “think she’s more excited than us,” he teases.

After dinner, the five of you end the evening out in the backyard, your hand feeling sore from the way Mrs. Jeon and Mai take turns to gawk at your ring.

“Excited to start at your new school soon, bug?” Mr. Jeon gleamed at his granddaughter who sat on his lap. Mai jostles her head with an eager nod, “One more week!” She announces.

Jungkook rubs your shoulder, the three of you laughing. You nestle into his side, enjoying this feeling.

The night grows quieter with ease. Feeling Jungkook’s eyes on you has you nearly forgetting that his family is there too while they coddle Mai.

There is a shift inside of you when you look back at him. All of these months since having that conversation, focusing on Mai’s healing while figuring out the reigns to your relationship together, every measure of his commitment you’ve felt, it overwhelms you. It sits brighter than the ring on your finger, though catching glimpses of it still makes your heart stutter.

This feeling blooms inside of you, it brushes your skin in a tickling rush, causing you to sink further into Jungkook’s embrace.

“I love you,” you whisper to him.

He senses it, uncaring for those next few seconds as he kisses you. With a passing glance from Mrs. Jeon, she just smiles to herself, distracting Mai further.

What’s desired is expressed through fluttering blinks, left to wondering minds between you and Jungkook as you share the rest of the evening with his family. Subtle hints are given through passing touches or the way your fingers sneak beneath the collar of his t-shirt to touch the space below his neck.

“I’m really happy,” Mai tells you once in bed for the night, her small hands mushing your cheeks together.

“You make me happy, bean,” you snort into her skin, causing her to yelp.

“Night, my baby,” Jungkook bends down to kiss her, “sleep tight.”

“I won’t let the bedbugs bite,” Mai repeats their ever-famous tag line before whispering final good nights.

There’s only a breath of space between you and your true love when you shut the door to Mai’s bedroom.

“Hey.” You breathe, eyes drunk with love, and you can see his pupils dilate at the mere sound of your voice.

You chuckle, shaking your head because this man has you wrapped up in safety and love. It takes your breath away and all you want in that moment is to have him feel the same.

Every motion you and Jungkook make is done with utmost consideration for each other. Nerves bind with excitement. Sighs mingled with giggles. When he feels you move in haste, he reminds you there’s time. Allowing yourself to become lost in vulnerability beneath the captor of your heart. Your willing heart becomes exposed because you want more than anything to show every part of it to Jungkook.

He handles you carefully, both with his hands and in heart. Because he knows that most fragile part of you now sits inside his palms. A few times his breath stops when he peers down at you, your hair splayed over the pillows, sparkling eyes beaming up at him. He starts to feel what’s left of those insecurities wash away until they cease to exist.

All he can feel with each tender brush of skin and lasting kiss is pure and absolute love.

A sweet smile spreads across your face when a sleeping Jungkook falls into your sight, his mouth slightly agape. You move your hand up and push your fingers through his growing hair, rolling your eyes because who knows how your man’s hair will look next week.

You always wondered what this would be like. Being the first to wake up, still a little too early in the morning, but the first thing you’re drawn to is the person lying next to you, lightly snoring. How drunk you would feel off the sheer love shared with this person, but of course, the person in mind was always your best friend. Back then, it was a mere fantasy, one you were certain would never see the light of day but would stay buried only in the deepest part of your mind.

Now, nerves tingle through your body and you can feel the sheet laid over your bodies. It feels exciting and still, a little terrifying.

Jungkook begins to stir beneath your touch, groaning. You come to, only to be reduced to a puddle when he wraps his hand around your forearm to pull you close to him. His skin is warm from the mattress, and perhaps lasting traces are carried over from last night.

“So early,” he mutters, kissing your hand that is held in his.

You peer over at the clock on his side of the bed, haze immediately broken when you note the time, knowing Mai will be up soon. The first place she travels to is her dad’s room - your room- for a morning cuddle with the two of you. You hope she never grows out of it, and for a second, your heart aches at the thought of her turning 8 soon.

But today it’s different, and you’re horrified suddenly by the thought of your bare bodies shielded only by a thin sheet. Jungkook opens one eye when he feels you move the sheet off of you, ready to swing your legs off the bed when he stops you, gently holding you by the wrist and bringing you back to the warmth of his chest, “Where are you going?” He whines, his morning voice sits close to your ear.

You push him away despite every part of you craving to stay glued to the love of your life; “Kook, I should get up before Mai comes in here-“ you peel your wrist away from his strong but mindful grip, eliciting a more serious tone from him.

“Hey-“ he proves to be the stronger one, his careful approach bringing you back to him, looking at you with soft, tired eyes. He pulls your chin between his fingers, mouth hovering over yours- that smile, those eyes, he’s irresistible when you hear him whisper, “kiss me.”

And so you do, a few times before he finally looks at you again; “just relax-” his appeal is slow, conscious of you, “stay in bed.“

The part of you that’s scared wants to keep fighting it but the way he’s looking at you speaks volumes to the part that feels safe there. Now, a year ago, when Jungkook was telling you he was in love with you too, and learning what all of that meant in the time following, the sheer terror of intimacy with Jungkook. It ceased to exist right here. You wondered if you would ever make it here, the morning following a night like last night.

Would you wake up steeped in deep regret, despite sharing it with the person you’ve loved for far too long? Or would it be pure ecstasy, a heated blush still rushing through your body as you recall every action.

Jungkook is still holding you close, a glazed look in his eye as he keeps you inside the haven he’s created in his hands, just for you.

You can’t help but smile, knowing you were feeling the latter.

“Baby?” You finally speak, and it surprises him, making him jump. You laugh, cooing over him before apologizing with a kiss to his chest.

“Mhm?” He chuckles, fingers combing through your hair.

“This was perfect,” you draw small circles over his pec, noting the goosebumps that form over his skin from your languorous touch, “you’re perfect for me.”

He stops breathing for a second, and in the next your world is spinning when he moves you to lie on your back as he hovers over you. Your eyes are wide, which makes him giggle, his eyes falling with the sweetest expression on his face. You know he’s feeling blissful.

“You think so?” He queries with a smirk.

You simply nod, reaching up to caress the side of his neck and cheek.

All he can do is respond with a kiss- maybe three. By the time he’s done, you’re left in a giggling heap beneath him, begging him to stop his teasing touches as he runs his fingers up and down your sides.

A light knock at the bedroom door sends him flying off you and nearly off the bed.

Mai’s soft voice follows behind it, “Daddy?”

You rip the sheet away from Jungkook and drape it around yourself, leaving him with nothing but a belly laugh as he watches your panic; “I told you!” You scold him between clenched teeth. He can’t help but find your modesty endearing, watching you run to the bathroom while he finds clothes to put on.

“Morning, bean,” he greets his little girl at the door, picking her up and holding her in his arms for a moment. He loves how she smells in the morning, the scent of her shampoo from last night’s bath still in her hair, how she yawns into his shoulder before croaking a good morning back to him.

She asks for you, and he smiles, “showering,” he answers.

Mai gasps and sits up in her dad’s arms, mouth round as she says, “Let’s surprise her and make her waffles!”

Jungkook kisses Mai’s forehead, beside himself, before agreeing.

So, there are still things you have to get used to. You laugh at yourself while in the shower, lathering shampoo into your hair. A part of you doesn’t want to wash away what Jungkook impressed upon your skin. The way he muttered words of love against your stomach, or how his warm breath tickled your bare shoulder with his future vows to you.

His voice replays in your ear where he kissed you, “you and me.”

[cbeargyu]

im not sure if your comfortable w this trope but... stepbrother!taehyun 😔

𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍

summary: five years ago, your dad married his mom. you were never close. not really. but the tension, the kind that lingered in your glances and accidental touches... was always there, waiting. one summer night, you catch him in a moment of private pleasure... and neither of you are able to pretend anymore.

pairing: stepbrother!taehyun x stepsister!reader

genre: smut, angst, stepbrother!au, slow burn, forbidden romance, power struggle, unresolved tension.

warnings: explicit sexual content (18+), masturbation, voyeurism, rough sex, dom/sub power struggle, use of protection, spanking (light), strong language, taboo themes (step-siblings, but no blood relation), sexual tension, minor exhibitionism, suggestive dialogue, awkward morning after

wc: 2,2k

notes: wow, thanks anon, honestly, i’m comfortable with this. i actually have a similar fanfic with soobin that i never dared to post because i was scared it might make people uncomfortable or be poorly received. please read all the way to the end if you want to hear more about my thoughts on the theme.

five years ago, your father married taehyun’s mother. it was a small ceremony, nothing extravagant, just close family and friends gathered under a blush-colored sunset. everyone smiled. everyone said it was beautiful, that you were now a family.

family.

the word always tasted foreign on your tongue whenever you looked at taehyun. it didn’t matter how many dinners you sat through, how many family vacations you forced yourselves to smile for. the truth lingered just under the surface—he never felt like your brother. not really.

your dad and his mom were head over heels in love, and tried so hard to make you two feel like a happy little blended family. but you and taehyun? never siblings. never even close.

there were rules, of course. unspoken ones. you would both pretend. you would play along for your parents’ sake, acting like siblings when necessary. but behind closed doors, when the charade dropped, it was something different. it wasn’t family. it wasn’t hate either. it was something heavier. something that lived in stolen glances across the dinner table, in the way your fingers would brush when you passed each other in the hallway, in the too-long eye contact when no one else was watching.

you tried, at first, to ignore it. god, you tried. but some things grow wild when you starve them, and the tension between you and taehyun was one of them. it twisted and stretched over the years, thickening every time he slung his arm too casually over the couch where you sat, or when you caught him looking at you like he was memorizing every inch of your skin. you never talked about it. you never named it. but it was there, pulsing and alive, hiding just underneath the way he would call you “sis” with a smirk that never reached his eyes.

summer in your house was unbearable. not because of the heat, although the humidity clung to your skin like a second layer, heavy and suffocating. but because of him. because taehyun was always there—shirtless, loud, smug—and every corner of that damn house seemed to vibrate with the memory of your fights, your glares, your unsaid words.

if anything, you were rivals.

your personalities clashed constantly—both of you stubborn, both too sharp for your own good, both used to getting the last word. your parents called it banter. you called it warfare.

and still… there were moments. fleeting seconds when the air got too thick between you. when you brushed past each other in the hallway and his hand lingered a little too long on your waist. when you fought about the remote and he leaned in too close, the curve of his smirk brushing your cheek. when he called you princess in that mocking tone, and your stomach twisted in ways it shouldn't.

you never spoke of it. never acknowledged the heat. it simmered quietly, dangerously, waiting.

and then came that night.

you can’t sleep.

you're wearing his hoodie, one you stole from the laundry days ago, pretending it doesn’t still smell like him. you wander the dark hallway, heart thudding, feet silent on the cold floor.

it was past midnight. the house was silent, your parents long asleep. you'd been tossing in bed, craving something cold, something sweet—maybe the popsicles hidden in the freezer behind your stepmom’s meal preps. you padded barefoot into the hallway in the big hoodie and cotton panties, yawning, eyes half-closed.

and then you heard it.

a low, sharp gasp. the creak of a bed. a muffled curse.

you paused at the end of the hallway, heart stuttering.

his door was open. just a crack—but enough.

enough for you to see him.

taehyun, sprawled on his bed, shirtless, bathed in moonlight. sweat-slicked chest rising and falling. eyes half-lidded, jaw clenched, hand wrapped around his cock, stroking himself with slow, angry precision.

you froze.

his head tilted back, a broken sound escaping his throat.

“fuck…” he muttered, breathless. “just like that…”

your knees almost gave out.

you should’ve turned around. you should’ve walked back to your room and pretended you never saw a thing. but your body betrayed you, burning from the inside out, and your mouth moved before your brain caught up.

“you left the damn door open, idiot.”

his whole body jolted. he sat up abruptly, hand still around his cock, wild eyes meeting yours. his expression twisted in horror and frustration and—something else.

“shit!” he hissed. “what the fuck, are you spying on me?”

you stepped into the room, fire rising in your chest. “you wish. i came down for a snack, not to watch you jerk off.”

“then go back to your fucking room!” he snapped, yanking the sheet over his lap too late. his cheeks were flushed, pupils blown wide, lips parted.

you didn’t move.

his jaw flexed. “get out.”

he threw the blanket off, stood, and you could see the line of his muscles, the tension coiled in his body, the fact that he was still hard.

“i said—”

“make me,” you whispered.

“always fucking arguing,” he muttered. “can’t even let me jerk off in peace.”

“you wanted me to see you.”

you folded your arms, leaning against the doorframe, deliberately not looking away.

“i won't tell you again.”

“why would i? you don’t seem to mind the audience.”

his gaze dropped to your legs, the hoodie, the way it barely covered your thighs. when he looked back up, something had shifted.

you felt it—like a snap in the air.

“you’re always running your mouth,” he said quietly, rising from the bed without breaking eye contact. “acting like you’re in control. like you can handle shit you don’t even understand.”

“oh, and you do?” you shot back, heat pooling between your legs. “you think jerking off in the dark makes you some kind of expert?”

he laughed. low. dangerous.

“i think it means i know exactly what i want,” he said. “and how to take it.”

you scoffed. “you wish you could take me.”

in a heartbeat, he crossed the room, chest to chest with you, body radiating heat. his breath was all over your lips, your cheeks, your throat. you refused to back down, tilting your chin defiantly.

“try me,” you whispered.

his hand caught your wrist. tight. his other hand gripped your waist.

it was too much.

too much heat. too much tension. too many years of pretending, of ignoring, of brushing past each other in narrow hallways and acting like neither of you felt the static.

taehyun was still holding you against the wall, breath ragged against your ear, fingers pressing bruises into your hips.

“tell me to stop,” he murmured, but his grip tightened.

you swallowed, breathless. “no.”

his forehead dropped against yours. his body was burning, chest rising and falling against you. he wasn’t smirking now. wasn’t playing games.

“fuck,” he muttered, like he hated himself. “i don’t—i don’t think i can stop.”

you exhaled shakily, threading your fingers into his hair.

“i don’t want you to.”

a harsh, sharp breath left him. his thumb dragged along your jaw, down your throat, over the racing pulse there.

“you—” his voice broke. “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this.”

your knees went weak. “taehyun…”

he lifted you onto the bed, lips ghosting over your collarbone, your shoulder, your jaw.

and then—softly, desperately—

“tell me you’ve thought about it too.”

your stomach tightened. you forced yourself to meet his gaze, the way his pupils were blown wide, his lips parted.

you could lie. you could keep up the game.

but you were too far gone.

“i think about you when i touch myself,” you admitted, voice raw.

taehyun let out a sharp exhale, like you had just wrecked him.

“fuck.”

his fingers dug into the sheets beside your head, body trembling as he stared down at you like he wanted to devour you whole.

his hand slid up your thigh, slow, deliberate.

“say it again,” he whispered.

your cheeks burned, but there was no going back now.

“i think about you,” you repeated, fingers gripping his shoulders, dragging him closer. “about your hands. your mouth. about how bad i want you.”

his breath stuttered. his forehead dropped to your shoulder, a soft, wrecked groan escaping him.

then he kissed you. hard.

like he was claiming you.

his fingers curled into your hair, his other hand slipping under your waistband, finding just how wet you were.

he let out a low, dangerous chuckle against your lips.

“you really have been thinking about me, huh?”

you clenched your jaw. “don’t get cocky.”

he kissed the corner of your mouth, then lower, trailing down your throat.

“don’t start what you can’t finish,” he growled.

“then shut up and finish it.”

and when his fingers dipped inside you, slow and teasing, you knew you were fucked.

he pulled back only enough to look at you—his lips red, his breathing shaky.

"i need to fuck you," he whispered, like it physically hurt to hold it in. "need to feel you lose control under me."

you clenched around nothing, nodding before your pride could get in the way.

"then do it."

and that was all it took.

his mouth was back on yours, hungry, biting, tongue fucking your lips open as his hands dragged down to tear at your shorts. you lifted your hips, eager, desperate, and he growled when he felt how wet your underwear was.

"fuck, baby," he hissed, dragging the soaked fabric down your thighs. "you’re dripping. did just confessing turn you on this much?"

"shut up," you breathed, tugging at his shirt, nails scratching up his back. "less talking, more fucking."

he smirked against your neck, then you heard the distinct sound of a condom wrapper being torn open—he'd had one in his drawer. you felt his cock, hard and heavy, brush against your thigh as he rolled it on. you raised an eyebrow.

“what, you just keep those around?”

he didn’t even blink. “you live here, don’t you?”

you were breathless at that. angry and turned on and god, you hated how much you liked that answer.

“fuck you,” you whispered.

“that’s the plan.” he tore the foil open with his teeth. “you’re lucky i’m responsible,” he muttered, pressing the blunt head against your entrance.

you bit your lip, eyes fluttering.

“you’re lucky i’m letting you.”

that made him groan.

"fuck, you’re perfect."

he slid in slow, watching every inch disappear inside you like he wanted to burn the sight into memory. you gasped, legs wrapping around him, arms pulling him closer.

and when he pushed inside you, slow and thick and unforgiving, you saw stars.

he wasn’t gentle.

he wasn’t rough.

he was intense.

every thrust was a dare. every moan a power play.

you tried to take control, to ride his rhythm, to drag him under your pace—he resisted, holding your wrists down, pinning you by the hips.

"you like thinking you're in charge, huh?" he growled against your throat.

"i am in charge," you spat, pushing your hips up hard, making him stutter mid-thrust.

his eyes darkened.

"not tonight."

he fucked you deeper, harder, making your back arch off the bed, your voice rising.

"say it," he hissed. "say you want me in control."

you refused.

so he angled just right.

and that was it.

you broke.

"taehyun—fuck—yes, okay, yes, yes."

he kissed you, like he was sealing a deal.

and when you came, shaking, crying out his name, he didn’t stop. he chased his own release like a man possessed, groaning your name when he finally let go, collapsing over you, breathless and trembling.

you lay there for a long minute, tangled, sticky, ruined.

neither of you said a word.

because saying something meant admitting what had just happened.

and admitting it meant figuring out what came next.

the clink of dishes. the sound of the news playing quietly from the living room. the smell of coffee and peanut butter.

your parents were already seated at the table, sipping tea and chatting about some neighbor’s new garden.

you stood at the kitchen counter, still in pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt, trying to spread peanut butter over a stubborn piece of toast without thinking about how your thighs still ached.

taehyun walked in.

you didn’t even have to look to know. you felt him—his heat, his presence, the weight of what you'd done.

he walked right behind you, headed for the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

but as he passed, his palm landed on your ass. not hard. not loud.

just enough.

your breath hitched and you gasped, body jolting forward slightly, the knife nearly slipping from your fingers.

"everything okay, honey?" your dad asked from the table.

you blinked. blinked again.

"i—uh. almost dropped the jam," you stammered, holding up the glass jar. "it’s slippery."

your mom smiled politely and went back to her tea.

behind you, taehyun popped open the bottle of water and chuckled, quietly.

the bastard.

you turned slightly, eyes narrowed.

he just raised an eyebrow, took a sip, and leaned in close enough that only you could hear:

"you moaned so pretty last night."

your face burned.

you wanted to punch him. or fuck him again.

or both.

my honest reaction to that req

[andavs]

I’m just going to vent about the Eddie and Chris storyline real quick:

So the show’s kind of treating it as if Eddie was a neglectful parent and his parents had to take his son away until he could prove he could be a father. But to make that happen they’re writing Chris as if he’s an oblivious seven year old who just wanted to be with his dad all along and didn’t understand why he was gone??

The whole reason they're in Texas is because Chris took off and iced Eddie out for months, and we still don’t know why he stayed away! Or why he let his dad completely uproot his life to follow him when he apparently wasn't having that great a time anyway. Eddie told him he was giving up his job and their home to buy a house and move to Texas, and Chris presumably said, “Yeah, cool, see you when you get here.”

Chris is old enough to know that’s a huge deal!

So does he genuinely like living in Texas? Does he want to be close to his grandparents, and his dad being there now is the cherry on top of his ideal life? Is he avoiding their house in LA because of Kim? Did he just not know how to admit that he wanted to come home and now it’s all snowballed so much that he doesn’t know how to bring it up? 

Like where is he at right now? Why don’t we know what’s going on in his head? Why is the fact that he hates chess the only thing he’s said for himself?

The way they’ve written this storyline, I don’t think a single line of dialogue would have to change if he were still seven because he barely got a say in anything. It was all handled between the adults and he was just along for the ride.

I know it was a different showrunner, and Maddie and Chimney were gone so they had more time to fill, but we got to see so much of what Harry went through after he was kidnapped in 5a. We got to see the messy emotions and the confusion and internal conflicts about who to be mad at and who to blame. And we got to see it through Harry's eyes and in his own words, not Athena’s. 

Gavin's availability is different, yeah, but I feel like we could've gotten a scene or two of him alone or with his grandparents where we see what he’s actually feeling about everything. If there’s friction, then show the friction. Show him backing down because he doesn’t want to upset them, or show him wanting to call his dad to leave but he can’t quite do it. Show whatever his grandparents said to him to make him believe his dad—who’s always loved him and made sure Chris knew that—suddenly doesn’t want to be his dad anymore?? In just a few months??

Like…I know Chris is fourteen, and the responsibility for all of this lands on Eddie as the adult and the parent. But he’s been reading cues from Chris that he doesn’t want his dad there. And Chris didn’t decide to come home, Eddie had to uproot his entire life to go get him. So why won’t they show us what’s going on in Chris’ head? Is he going to learn anything through this experience, or does this whole saga only exist for Eddie to relearn everything he already knew before Kim showed up?

And for fuck’s sake, even if Tim absolutely cannot bring himself to acknowledge the existence of Kim, at least acknowledge Shannon!

Since they started s7 with Chris talking about how much it hurt that she left them, I was hoping they’d bring that back and he’d say something like he didn’t know how to admit he wanted to come home—just like his mom. Really lean into that very obvious parallel that’s just sitting there. Have Eddie explain more of what happened back then so Chris can understand that she didn’t leave because she didn’t love him, because he still loves his dad even though he needed space, but because she had her own messy emotional shit going on just like he does. And maybe Eddie could realize that too through talking to Chris about it.

Maybe they could have a conversation about how neither of them handled the situation very well, and they need to always be talking to each other because they’re a team and they always have been. Talking openly has always been one of their strengths. Because this wasn’t just Eddie’s actions driving this storyline, Chris was half of it. Chris is a main character and should be getting some development out of this too, but right now he’s more like a trophy Eddie wins back through completing tasks than a full character with thoughts and feelings of his own.

Anyway, I’m annoyed that this has dragged on for a year and has only managed to superficially fix problems that didn’t exist before this long-ass storyline started.

Yeah, I know they could address any of this before the season's over, but it's been a fucking year. Look alive, Tim!

[max-nico]

Would you like an excerpt from a DCXDP fic I'm never going to finish ? Too bad. It's already posted.

Feel free to add on, it's completely out of my hands now lol

Tw: fighting with parents, almost exclusively dialogue since it's unfinished

"Back again, are we?"

"Shut up."

Danny grins at Jason's pout. It's all sharp fangs and shark teeth, crammed into something much too wide to be wolfish.

"So, what'd your old man do?"

"The same shit as always." Jason scoffs, crossing his arms. "He even got on me for cursin' this time. Can you believe that? Like that windbag has any right to boss me around..."

"I mean, isn't he your legal guardian and you his sidekick?"

"I ain't no sidekick! We're partners!"

Danny levels the eleven year old with a flat look. "I'm having a hard time believing you. Either way, he's still your legal guardian so he does, unfortunately, have some right to boss you around."

"I thought you were s'posed to be agreeing with me."

"And when have I ever done that?"

"Not a damn time."

"Exactly."

A pause.

"You're annoying."

"Clearly I'm better than the old windbag back at home bossing you around, huh?"

"Don't say it so smugly, he's not a hard person to be better than."

"That's not what you were saying when he first took you in."

"I was stupid and naive back then, now I know better."

Danny snorts.

"Does he even know where you run off to after your arguments?"

"No, your ghost hoodoo shit disables all my trackers once I get a block away from your house."

Ah, his haunt is growing nicely then. Very good.

"So you're leading an overprotective Batman right to me? Wow, I'm really feeling the love here, Jason."

"Oh shut your gob man, he won't do nothing to you as long as I'm here."

"Less comforting than you think, but I appreciate the sentiment."

"Yeah whatever."

There's a thick pause between them. Danny doesn't take any mind to it, but he can see Jason growing more restless by the second.

"It's jus..." The boy starts to spill, a tiny quiver to his bottom lip. "He said something real mean to me... I-I don't think I wanna go back."

"What'd he say?"

"It's stupid..."

"Can't be that stupid if it hurt your feelings bad enough for you to run away again."

Jason is silent for another moment, his eyes flicking side to side as he argues with himself.

"H-He said that he ain't my daddy, and I need to shape up and stop making him act like one." He paraphrases. "I already know he's not my dad, I'm the one who said it first, but I don't- I can't- It's... If it's the truth, why'd it hurt so much when he said it?"

Danny's not really equipped to deal with big feelings like this, at least probably not in the way Jason needs. Being a therapist has always been his older sister's thing, Danny never really had a knack for it. He can try, though. He can help... Somewhat? He can sit with the kid, or talk him down, or maybe enable a bad habit or two for the night. Not a perfect solution, but it's what he's got in the meantime.

"Sometimes the truth hurts." Danny shrugs. "Maybe if you can change the truth or...? Actually, I don't fucking know. I was talking out of my ass."

"And when have you not done that?"

"Not a damn time."

"Exactly."

"You're such a little jerk!"

And then they're squabbling on the floor of Danny's house. It's nicer than most around Crime Alley, but the wood floors still give them splinters when they roll around. It's good, and so familiar to Jason he almost feels like he's home again.

When they've finally ceased their petty fight, Jason sighs, his training allowing him to be only sightly out of breath.

"You'll keep the bat away for a couple nights, won'tcha?"

"You know I try to keep him away from here every night."

"Y-Yeah, but try extra hard for tonight, kay?"

"You got it kiddo."

Bonus:

Bruce looks for Jason for three days before he turns up again. Every time he's gone looking for him, he ends up back at the batcave. It's the weirdest thing Bruce has ever seen.

Unfortunately, this is also grounds for getting magic users involved. How irritating.

Jason is like 11-12ish and was taken in by Bruce when he was a very early 10yrs old. Danny is barely 19. I have backstory for how he got where he is stored in my brain, but idk if I'm actually gonna write it.

Also, I am a good parent Bruce believer, but he is the smartest idiot alive. He's making a lot of mistakes, just at the cost of his relationship with his kids, unfortunately.

Askbox and DMs are open. I implore you to chat/interact with my posts. This is a safe space.

[hearts-hunger]

oh my god what the FUCK was that

okay, the two things i liked first. pros:

surprisingly, being a game truther, i liked the changes made to the tv station. having the soldiers strung up in the dark with the floodlights and thunderstorm gave that scene a brutality and scariness it doesn't have in the game, and dina and ellie having to sneak out like they did was very high-stakes and suspenseful.

ellie's "i would die for you. i would. but that is not what just happened" whole bit was so good i went back and rewatched it. her admission about her immunity and the dialogue in that moment felt true to ellie's character. isabella and bella did a great job with that scene. of course it makes no sense that ellie is surprised that dina is pointing a gun at her, but whatever. for the most part, that scene was done really well.

okay, now for the cons. buckle up, because there's a lot of them.

why the fuck are the making dina and ellie a happy little couple? "i'm gonna be a dad" give me a fucking BREAK??? i can't even express how antithetical to the story of the game this is. because ellie is not happy about this baby, she's horrible to dina, she's so wrapped up in revenge that she can't think about anything else. making them like...... dream up a baby registry is SUCH a mistake. and having dina go with ellie? this is supposed to be the part where ellie goes truly unhinged. she loses every shred of morality. not even dina and her baby can bring her back from the precipice, even all the way to the bitter end when she's built a life with them. she goes alone, to plow through all of seattle, to become a cold-blooded killer, to kill abby at any cost. but nope! now here comes mommy and daddy on a fun little killing spree while they think up colors for the nursery. what the fuck, genuinely.

like, not to be dramatic, but it's...... completely shredding the most intense and important character development in the story. tonally the game makes a very clear divide between jackson and seattle, and the show is forcing warm, intimate, loving moments into what is supposed to be a cold, gloomy, numb-feeling section of the story. ellie doesn't respond well to dina being pregnant. this is the moment where she really shows a side of herself that is so steeped in anger and fear and grief that she almost never gets over it. whether she will ever get over it is, like, a major question the game leaves us with. why are they screwing with that? why are they making ellie more palatable? let her be fucked up!!!

as for dina, what in the chappel roan comphet coming out trauma is going on with her. i actually hate how they've turned the confident bisexual woman from the game into...... whatever this dina is. i'm just personally not that interested in "my parents didn't approve, i was confused, i'm not brave, i tried to force it with a guy" whatever kind of bisexual storyline this is. maybe some people are. but i liked dina how she was in the game: simply, unapologetically, confidently bisexual. we don't have to have trauma in our coming-out stories. we can just be bisexual.

also, it's weird that they made dina and ellie's first sexual intimacy be some weird trauma-bond, heat of passion, right after a near-death-experience kind of thing. dina and ellie sleeping together in the game felt sweet, tender, flirty, warm, safe. this felt rushed and strange and insincere. it felt cheap, maybe. i can't really describe it. it was like it was written for straight men. like, graphic, rain-soaked, sloppy, hair down and makeup smudged. maybe i'm in the minority on this but it didn't feel good to me. i'm interested to know what people thought about it.

i think we're spending way too much time on isaac. perhaps if we hadn't wasted so much time in jackson in therapy we'd have time for development on isaac, but we don't really have time now.

anyone holding onto the "here's how tommy can still kill all of seattle" dream can put the tin hats away. it's not happening. and it sucks and it's a waste. but it's clearly not happening.

also, these are maybe nitpicky and not really story related, but:

didn't love the graphic content this episode. maybe that's a me thing. but the stupid josh peck gratuitous vulgarity, the full nudity in the torture scene, the straight up sex with dina end ellie - i know that's hbo's style, but i think we've maybe lost the art of subtlety.

everybody's said this but their clothes look brand new even after they've been crawling through mud and rain and whatever. it looks fake and weird.

in that same vein, ellie's bite marks have all looked super clean and not gnarly as if she's almost gotten her arm gnawed off. also she gets bit every other tuesday so it's lost its wow factor.

okay, i know i said a lot but that episode truly was a lot. come talk to me here or on my tlou blog @ellies-miller about your thoughts on this episode! i want to know what everyone thought and discuss it!

[cy-cyborg-draws]

Awkward

Another little comic I was working on between my last commission that I forgot to post 😅 The advice from the "devil" actually came from my mum and dad, they loved messing with people on my behalf. Unfortunately I didn't inherit their knack for making stuff up on the spot though... [ID: A comic illustrated in a chibi style containing 8 panels.  Panel 1 depicts two characters at a grocery store. One of the characters is Nix, a purple anthropomorphic dragon in a wheelchair. Nix is an amputee and is not wearing prosthetics. The have a wheelchair trolly in front of them which they are placing an orange into. An anthropomorphic dog in a blue shirt approaches them and says "OMG, what happened to your legs!?". Panel 2 shows Nix with their head tilted to the side, an awkward sweat drop running down their forehead. The following dialogue appears in a thought bubble "I hate when total strangers ask me this out of the blue... I don't mind talking about it, but I just never know what to say. If I'm honest, they get all uncomfortable. If I say I don't want to answer, they get mad and call me rude... I just want to finish my shopping...." As they think, two characters appear on Nix's shoulder, a red devilish version of themself with tattered clothes and wings, and a gold angelic version with feathery wings in a white robe. Panel 3 shows a close up of Nix's shoulder angel, they have their head bowed as they say, "They're just curious, just tell a simplified version, "you got sick as a baby." That will be enough and you can go on with your day." Panel 4 show's their shoulder devil rolling their eyes and crossing their arms as they say, "Oh please, when has that ever worked? It still ends up uncomfortable even with the "Short and Sweet" version." Panel 5 shows them continuing behind to talk, "They just get upset over their own assumptions and stereotypes no matter how you say it, and then half the time, you end up having to comfort them..." Behind them, another thought bubble appears showing how that interaction might go. The dog is crying, saying "That's so sad, I feel so sorry for you!" and nix awkwardly trying to reassure them, "Oh no, please don't! It's ok, I'm not upset by it. please don't be sad". The last line is written in smaller text to show it is said softer. Panel 6 shows another close up of the devil as they continue to speak, "They're going to make it weird no matter what, so i think you should have some fun! Make something up! Something fun, Something dramatic! Like you fought a crocodile or something!" Panel 7 shows nix and the dog again, as Nix sit's there uncomfortably saying, "Uuuuuuhhhh....." Panel 8 shows Nix saying "...I took an arrow to the knee...?" The dog's expression becomes one of frustration, as he asks "Reall?". In the corner, the devil pops up again, looking disappointed as well, "That's... Not really what i had in mind..." /End ID]

[timeslipcamp]

thoughts on episode 15

this post will contain spoilers and rambles about how much i love rui read at your own risk

he's only at the beginning i know LET ME LIVE

loved the lil walk with rui. i love that dude i wish we could have seen him before he was cursed. the bittersweet "i used to do that all the time" when he was talking about researching his curse 😭 can we cure him too please

this was funny as hell no way does haku have dad energy, he has jealous energy

these two lines honestly just feed into my theory that it's a very understated staff vs ghouls atmosphere (not so understated i guess) and that haku is working for them. traitor 😔

RUI IS ONTO HIM. haku always just knows when to appear, huh? and this isn't the first time, we run into haku everywhere. why is he always out walking? what is he looking for? rui might know, he's in the shadows after all.

i am genuinely curious about the wisteria taking people though. why would they mention that? what does that have to do with anything? is it only certain people?

would love to know why subaru interrupted zenji like that, even mc noticed that was out of character for him. i get the feeling there's more to this place and subaru's past then he let on, but it could also have just been a throwaway red herring line to get us to be more suspicious of the subaru stuff that was going to be revealed later. but honestly my main concern is that zenji and jiro have not only never been to a museum, but they've never been to an amusement park 😭 let them have fun!!! let me take them out!!

haku being insistent on the folk tale channel is interesting, though i'm not sure if it was just to show character traits or if it's actually for the plot. sometimes dialogue is just dialogue, ya know? weird that haku had him record a folk tale so insistently and then never tell us which tale. sus 🤨

this chapter also seems to spend a lot more time on the interaction between the ghouls, which im not mad about. it's always fun to see how the writers balance the mission and also character development. love a good monster of the week show.

i fucking laughed out loud when subaru popped up that was genuinely the funniest thing this whole episode

also not to be such a haku stan when i'm very clearly team traitor!haku but

how come every time he looks at us it's so soft like man cmon please make it easier to hate you. stop being so nice

honestly the more this whole subaru thing goes on i really don't think he's suspicious so much as he's just so terrified of losing control that it's become an obsession.

my whole take on the subaru thing centers around anxiety and poor coping mechanisms. i'm hesitant to say it's ocd because of how mental illness is usually portrayed in horror media, but it definitely feels like the anxious spirals that kind of cycle on obsession. especially once it comes out about the scandal he was supposedly involved in. if you already have anxiety about how you're perceived and something like that happens on such a major scale that you have to step away from the public eye, (and especially after doing something like losing control) it's not a huge leap to think it'd almost become a trigger response. especially the cabbage on the burger part on the table--you see reactions like that all the time. i won't go into a full psychoanalysis, as i'm not a psychology expert, but that's how it reads to me. so far. he's still on my list lmao

also this campus interaction pointed out by @sane-tkdbblog is a lot more interesting now

regardless haku needs to shut up, there's way better ways to get people to stop with the self deprecation 😭 haku pls. still though it was interesting that haku thought it was serious enough that he asked us if we wanted to keep working with them. was it because the violence was that serious? was it a test to see our loyalties and where they lie? was it him being selfish? who knows with haku at this point

more fuel for my traitor!haku is being blackmailed theory. easiest way out is going along with it to save himself.

what i REALLY want to know more about is what zenji's referring to!! whose sos did he miss? is that what led to him dying?? zenji TELL ME

super dark story in this one as well, had my phone screen covered for the last few parts lmao. also INSANE ending, love a cliffhanger, but again i think subaru's probably just going ro try and do something else to gain control of a situation again. post incoming about the tree of severance

🌟10/10 for spooky ghosts

🌟10/10 for zenji's outfits (and everyone's really)

theory posts to make still: subaru's demon, further traitor theories, the defunct houses, tree of severance, and why i hate the teachers. also another one about taiga lmao

asks and dms are always open!

[nezukoo-channn]

— sinta ko (Zayne x F! Reader)

Tags: Non-MC F!Reader x Zayne, Reader isn’t MC, Reader is addressed w female pronouns (she/her), Spanish colonial AU! Not historically accurate , romance, pinning, domestic moments, possibly OOC Zayne and Caleb , there are translations (not exactly word by word but I translated it based on what's the most accurate thought behind it, it's italicized beside or after the dialogue) , fluff, so much pinning and longing, teasing and banter, different social classes, they haven't seen each other in years let them fall in love again, childhood friends to people who havent seen each other in years to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, established relationship at the end, courtship, theyre falling in love awwwww, zayne sings for youuuu and you sing back and and *sniffles*

TW: slight blood and injuries (in one scene), cussing (just once), and discrimination between social classes

A/N: part 2 of giliw ko! Thank you so much for waiting for part 2 (i know that i said ill post it soon but i didnt expect soon will be THIS long, had to settle some personal things in my life, deal with grief and stuff) but i hope youll like part 2 and that it wont disappoint you guys thank you so much for supporting giliw ko and sinta ko, i hope to be more comfortable in writing and publishing more fics one day.

Taglist: @sapphic-daze, @deusfoundry, @roseapov, @knorreine

Divider: @saradika-graphics

You don't remember the last time you saw Zayne.

Well, you could remember seeing him, but you don't remember when exactly was the last time you saw him. Was it months? Years? Decades?

Everyday felt ordinary. You wake up before dawn to tend to your mother and her weakening health. You and your father helped her up, allowing her to sit down to watch the sunrise.  

You prepared breakfast next, making sure your parents had something to eat before you left for work today,  which was selling products you and your father grew in your own garden at the back of the house at the marketplace. You dusted up your skirts, tied your hair up and grabbed the basket before saying goodbye to your parents and walking out of the door.  

You headed up to your usual area, amongst the other women, young and old , selling the same produce as you. You raised your voice,  loud and clear to call out to potential customers. People passed your way, some dropping by to purchase a vegetable or two , others tried to bargain with you about prices established, and the rest passed along. You didn't mind. Customers were customers; they were yours sometimes, and other times, they weren't. 

During the midday, You found a spot for yourself to have lunch before returning back to work. You did the same thing , trying to get your stock sold out and yet, like every other day, it wasn't. You sigh, glancing at the last few bits of onions and garlic.

As the day ends, you return home, clutching your basket close. When you open the door, your mother greets you. She was a slim woman, her bones seemed to poke through her thin skin and dull eyes. You set the basket aside and hugged her.

“Magandang gabi, ma.” You greeted, “Kumusta po tayo?”  Goodevening, mom. How are you?

Your mother, despite her illness , gave a sweet smile.  “Maayos naman, ija. Sabi ko sa iyo na wag na magtrabaho. Kaya pa man namin ng ama mo.” I am well, my child but didn't I tell you to stop working? Your father and I can still do it.

She gently chimed. You smiled, shaking your head as you placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“Nay,” You say softly, “May sakit ka po, diba? Hayaan mo na kami ni tatay mag-alaga sa iyo…” Mom, you're sick, remember? Let dad and I take care of you...

Your mother sighs. “Parehas talaga kayo ng tatay mo, no?” She laughs before shaking her head, “Kain na tayo? Hinihintay ka na ng tatay mo…”  You're really like your father, no? Oh come on now, let's eat dinner. I'm sure your father has been waiting for you.

You held your mother's hand, heading to the small dining room to eat together as a family.

Dinner was quiet, say for the occasional coughs from your mother and the mumbles of your father as he tries to make her drink water. And just like that, dinner was complete and then fell into a comfortable silence as you prepared to sleep. 

It was a life, yes, but a mundane everyday one.

A life you memorized and lived through autopilot countless times.

With the season getting colder, your mother's illness worsens to the point of her being unable to stand or leave the bed.

That gave you a reason to work even harder.

You found a bunch of other jobs — laundry maid, cooking maid, babysitting children of the elite, etc. Just to earn enough money to help your mother find a doctor or anyone willing to heal her.

“May kilala ka bang doktor, Señora?” Do you know a doctor, madame? You asked your mistress. She was a newer one to town, having married some impressionable bachelor.

She scoffs, “At bakit ka ba nagtatanong? Hindi naman parte ng trabaho mo magkasakit.” And why are you asking? It isn't part of your job to get sick.

You grit your teeth. There were really people like them, no? Just because they had more privilege or paler skin meant that they could look down upon others. You shook your head, “Para po sa ina ko, señora.” Its for my mother, madame. You reasoned. 

“Ano ba ang pakialam ko sa ina mo? ”And why should I care about your mother? She scoffs. 

You nearly dropped whatever you were holding, planning to aim at her, but that said, if she gets hurt, you'd be imprisoned and it will be more difficult for your family. You remained quiet, finishing up instead before leaving for the day. 

As you walk the path back home, a familiar silhouette stands beside you. You looked to your side and raised your hand to defend yourself, but it was caught between theirs. You glance up, knowing that cheeky smile wherever You go. 

It was Caleb.

“Gago ka!” Fuck! You say in shock, your hand fishing it's way out of his hold your hit his shoulder playfully. “Ikaw ha! Bakit mo iyan ginawa?” What was that for? 

He laughs. “At bakit ka naman galit? Di lang tayo nagkita ng ilang buwan at tapos, magpapa-sungti ka?" And why are you angry? We haven't seen each other for a few months and now you're acting all mean?

He teases, ruffling your hair. You hit him again playfully. 

“At bakit ka dito?” Why are you here? You asked. 

“Bakit? Bawal ba?” Why? Am I not allowed here? He retorts.

You sighed. 

“Hindi naman…” Not really You answered, dusting your skirt. “Uuwi na ako kinana Nanay At Tatay. Malubha ang sakit ni Nanay… Naghahanap ako ng doktor, O baka naman mangagagmot— kahit sino na lang.” I'm heading back home. Mom isn't feeling well and I'm trying to find a doctor, or maybe a healer--or just anyone who can help, really. You confined to him as you walked back home together.

Caleb wasn't present around the barrio nowadays, having gone to Manila to serve for the Guardia Civil , the Spanish police that her empire placed over her constituents to keep them in place.

“Alam mo, may kilala akong doktor.”I know a doctor. Caleb says , moments before reaching home. You glanced at his direction, eyes brimming with possible hope that it'll be a good doctor,  one that can save your mother's health and wouldn't dismiss her like others. 

“Saan?”Where? You ask immediately,  “Sino?” Who?

He smiles, getting a piece of paper inside his trousers and hands it to you , pressing his hands against yours. You stared in confusion,  tilting your head as you mumbled quickly before stepping inside. 

Dinner was the usual, but with the added bonus of Caleb being there and entertaining your parents with his various experiences .  You nod along, listening to him talk on and on as you can't help but wonder what a life beyond the comforts of a province would be like. What Maynila was truly like for yourself. 

As the night comes to an end, you escorted Caleb out of the house, a complete opposite from what a woman would do. He pouts playfully, trying to object to your behavior but you laugh along, dragging him out of the house as he says a goodbye to your parents.

And life continued on. 

It took a while to convince your mother that she should see a doctor, and not either a manggagamot or an albularyo. You practically dragged her to the place, making sure to hold her hand tightly so that she wouldn't get lost.

You paused, stopping at the gates of the familiar building.

It was Zayne’s old home. The same old home you met him with. The same old home where your mother and father and grandparents all worked. The same old home that held so many memories— it feels too good to be true to stand face to face with it.

But here you are. Standing in front of the familiar gates.

Getting inside was fairly simple, but the lines and amount of people were so many you probably wondered if the thing Caleb mentioned has any semblance of truth at all. You made sure your mother was seated and weaved yourself through the small crowd of people like the sea that washes upon the shore of everyday life— you memorized this place, but felt alien towards it. You walked over to the woman sitting down with piles of papers, perhaps that's the secretary of the Doctor. She glances up and smiles,

“Bago ka ba dito?” Are you new here? She asks. You nod. She gets a piece of paper and a pen and begins asking for information about you.

You immediately shake your head,

“Parang hindi tayo nagkakaintindihan. Hindi po ako yung may sakit, yung ina ko po.” I think there's a misunderstanding. Im not the one who's ill, but my mother.

You explained. She laughs and corrects herself before proceeding with the same thing all over again, this time with your mother's information instead of yours.

Waiting took even longer. There were plenty of people, young and old, men and women, the rich and the poor waiting patiently for their names to be called by the secretary. It was something new for you. You haven't been to the doctor's before, having trusted and used local medicines and believed to rid you of your illnesses as a child and teenager, the same thing your parents had used to because it was cheaper than a doctor and was more known in the barrio.

You glanced around. The familiar wooden walls had stood tall, photos of the family lined their walls as generations of men and women watched people come in and out of their home, hoping for a better solution to their ailments. Time ticks slowly as the sun rises higher into the sky And begins its descent . Your eyes were starting to get heavy, your mother leaning against you for a moment's rest.

Hearing your mother's name get called was like a bell that breaks the silence of night. You nudge her awake. “Nay,” Mom, You say softly, trying to wake her, “Tayo na. Tinawag na tayo.” Let's go. Your name was being called.

She mutters something in response before you help her up and lead her towards the room.

You had been inside this room before. The old smell of books and wood was replaced with ammonia and sterile supplies. You take a step, your mother following behind you as you face the presumed doctor.

Zayne.

He glanced down for a moment, reviewing the patient information given to him by the secretary beforehand. You couldn't help but stare at realizing you knew each other before. He was still handsome, yes, with soft and cold eyes, his hair short and kept nicely.

“Nay, si Zayne po ito.” Mom, its me, Zayne.

He says to your mother, his voice soft and modulated. Your mother's eyes lit up. “Ijo? Ikaw ba ‘yan , ijo ko?” My dear? Is that you, my dear?

He nods. “Opo, ang ijo inaalagaan mo noong una po," Yes, I'm the boy you took care of before.

He grabs his stethoscope, “At ngayon po, Nay, ako naman po ang maaalaga sa iyo.” And now, mom, I'll be the one who'll be taking care of you.

You watched as Zayne proceeded with his routine, A new sight from the boy you once knew. His hands were gentle, his voice firm and clear as he ran through several tests and asked your mother questions related to her health.

Minutes passed by as Zayne explained what was happening to you and your mother. He was direct, telling her she was ill but didn't crush the hopes of her making a recovery. He gets a piece of paper, scribbling down a few words before handing them to you. He gives a few more reminders, making sure your mother can take her medicines, not overwork herself , make sure she's rested well, and to return next week to get an update on her health.

You smiled, saying your thanks to Zayne before looking away, your eyes darting around as you tapped your feet. Zayne and your mother continued to talk, catching up with the years that passed.

“Ang laki laki mo na , ijo.” You're so big now, my dear. Your mother coos, squishing his cheek with her wrinkled fingers, “Naalala ko noong una—” I remember when —

Zayne chuckled nervously , looking away as he places her hand far from his cheeks. “Alam ko po.” I know, He says softly, “Hindi mo na kailangan sabihin.” You don't need to say.

Your mother scoffs playfully, making you groan from annoyance. The last thing you wanted to hear is an embarrassing story from your childhood or Zayne’s. She laughs, recalling how you'd always play together or how when Zayne was a little baby, he would always follow her or his own mother around like a little puppy. You laugh, imagining him just as your mother described in her story. Zayne stands there, covering his reddening face with his white coat, his eyes glancing elsewhere. He silently hopes that this will all end soon.

“Nay,” Mom, You say, placing a hand on her shoulder. You glance at Zayne, seemingly saying that you had this under your control. “Sa susunod na naman tayo mag-usap kay Doktor Zayne, Nay. Baka may gagawin pa siya.” We can talk to Doctor Zayne next time. Maybe he still has things to do.

“Bibisita ka ba sa amin ba, ijo?” Will you visit us , dear? She asks Zayne with hopeful eyes.

“Hindi pa ko maka-siguro po, Nay.” I'm not so sure, Mom. He answers, “Pero kung may oras ako, bibisita ako. Sa parehas lugar kung saan kayo nakatira noong una po?” But if I have the time, I'll visit. Its in the same place as before, no?

Your mother nods. “Aba, naalala mo pa, ijo? Kung hindi kayo sa bahay, diyan kayo palagi nina Caleb at Y/N. Palagi kayo naglalaro noong una. Naalala ko-” Ah, so you do remember, dear? If you weren't at home, you would always be at ours with Caleb and Y/N. You three always played together and I remember—

“At naalala ko na nag-aalala na si Tatay sa bahay.” And I remember that Dad is worried at home. You chimed in softly, grabbing her hand as you thanked Zayne once more and left the office. Zayne smiles to himself, waving goodbye as the door closes and leaves him alone with his thoughts.

You were always at Zayne’s more often as your mother recovers from her illness.

It was a slow and gradual process, yes, but you couldn't help but be proud, seeing your mother slowly feel better and get back on her feet. True to his words, Zayne visits more often. He brings his medical equipment in a bag and walks up to your door and like clockwork, you’d open the door to greet him hello before bringing him to your mother.

Your mother’s eyes always lit up when she hears his footsteps and his familiar voice. She loved him like he was her child, having raised him all those years ago.

“May kasintahan ka na ba, ijo?” Do you have a partner, dear? She asked one time, catching him off-guard. He looked away for a moment, his face turning red as he shook his head.

“May babae bang nagpapatibok ng puso mo?” Is there a woman who makes your heart race? She asked next.

His ears turned red as he continued to look away.

“Parang wala pa po, Nay. Hindi ko rin alam kung pareho ang nararamdaman niya sa akin…” There seems to be no one yet, Mom.I'm not sure if the person feels the same.

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. This was Doctor Zayne, and you were sure that so many women had already swooned over his feet and had tried to melt away at his cold and aloof expression, but you digressed.

“Hay nako, Zayne. Ikaw pa? Walang kasintahan? At akala ko sa Maynila o sa Europa ka pa makakahanap ng babae na magmamahal sa iyo?” Really, Zayne? You? Without a partner? And I thought you would find someone from Manila or Europe who will love you. You teased, nudging his side, “O bake plano mo maging isang matandang binata?" Or do you plan on being an umarried bachelor?

Zayne laughs, turning his attention towards you.

“Hindi naman.”Not really, He says, “May taong nagpapatibok ng puso ko pero…” There is someone who makes my heart race however...

“Pero?” However?

“Pabayaan mo na.” Nevermind. He waves his hand dismissively. You pouted at his words, playfully hitting his shoulder, and sticking your tongue out in his direction. Zayne sighs, seeing your petulant expression.

“Tumahimik ka nga?” Can you keep quiet? He says, “Nagtatrabaho ako.” I'm working.

Your heart skipped a small beat. Was it the way he talked? The way his hands handled taking care of your mother? Or was it because it was Zayne? Zayne, the childhood friend you grew up with throughout all those years, whose face and expression never changed, his voice still modulated and poised just like how you’d always remember it. You shake your head. Now that kind of nonsense is something you don’t agree on, especially about you.

His checkup continues as he does an assessment of your mother’s current condition. Every answer she gave, he had written down and documented properly. Before he left, he presented them with fruits in a basket and money he had stuffed in his pockets.

“Alam ko na hindi ito magrabo pero sana po makatuklong diin sa iyo ito.”I know this isn't extravagant but I hope it will help. He offers.

“Ang sobra naman mo, Zayne. Hindi mo naman kailangan ito gawin .” Oh Zayne, you're too much. You don't need to do this. You say, your face red and eyes widen from the action he had done. He presses the basket of fruits closer to you.

“Tanggapin mo na.” Accept it. He insists. After another back and forth between you both, you resigned your fate and nodded in thanks, taking the basket into your arms. Zayne flashes a subtle smile before packing his materials and leaving out of the door.

This continues on for weeks more, even spanning months–close to a year even as your mother’s recovery was a slow and gradual process. She can move around more often and for longer without the need to catch her breath. She can clean up around the house, much to your father’s insistence of helping.

Whenever you visited Zayne in his clinic with your mother, you would bring a fresh basket of fruits and vegetables that you sell as a thank you to him. He would gladly accept it, claiming that you and your mother were planning to stuff him with food. You both laugh and shake your heads at his words.

When Zayne visits the marketplace to find goods, he’d look around, seeing the same things and products sold. The only difference was the person selling. He would look around, trying to spot you from amongst the crowd of voices. He would buy the vegetables he needed before paying and leaving to go to a different stall. There were times that you two bantered over prices of your products, as Zayne would explain the concepts of business to you. In response, you would shake your head and grumble about how he doesn’t really know a thing about how to really sell stuff to individuals.

He followed every rule of the book and conduct of society, and yet, here you are, holding a basket of fresh produce from the garden your family has, your face kissed by the sun with your hair tied up with your smile gracing your lips.

The same smile that had slowly melted through his exteriors once more and will continue to do so until the very end perhaps. The same smile that had caused his heart to skip a beat when he saw her again. The smile that got him going through medical school, the only thing he imagined him to greet her. Sometimes, he wonders if he should’ve stayed behind as a child to see her smile even more, but he didn’t regret leaving for Manila to study medicine, he didn’t regret going to Europe to learn even more. At least, not completely.

The only thing he ever regretted about leaving home was that he didn’t bring her and her smile with him.

Now that he is back, he only hopes to see it even more.

You missed him. That wasn’t a lie.

Of course you did, he was still your childhood friend and companion until he left to study. You had spent your whole teenage years wondering when he’ll be back and whether things will be the same when he returns–would he even remember who you were?

But seeing his face, his bright eyes that seemed to shift colors when the sunlight hit in different angles, his large and strong hands holding onto the basket of produce he bought from you, you realized that he hasn’t forgotten you, not one single bit at all.

Your mother noticed the way your face turned red at the mention of Zayne's name, your father noticed the small smile that graced your lips when you tried to hide your blushing face beneath your hand. Caleb had teased you both relentlessly about it, nudging Zayne by the shoulder everytime you three were together once more. It was as if you were kids once again, just much older than the ages you were before. And instead of playing together, you did errands together, with them being your most frequent customers. Your other friends had teased you as well, nudging and making noises you’d glare at them for.

And the worst of all, you noticed the way Zayne acted around you.

It was a subtle change, but one you noticed and took attention too. He was at your home more often, even staying for dinner with your parents. He’d laugh at old stories your father recalls about you that you wished he’d quiet about. He looked at you more often, his head resting against his chin as he watched you go on and on about today, or yesterday, or any other day. And once dinner was done and everything slowed down, he seemed hesitant to leave but always kissed your hand and said his goodbye. You kept a straight-face most of the time, but there was no denying of the red gracing your cheeks.

There was a time he was talking to your parents. You were in the kitchen, washing the dishes as their hushed voices talked. There was a gut feeling inside your chest, telling you to listen in. Holding a wet plate in your hand, you pressed your ear closer to the wall, curious on what he’s about to say next.

“Magtatanong ako kung bibigayan niyo ba ako ng pahintulot para ligawin si Y/N.” I want to ask your permission to court Y/N. Zayne says, his voice muffled by the barrier se separating the kitchen and living room.

There was a brief silence before he continued, “Hindi ako makakasabi na ako ay isang perpektong tao pero pinapangako ko na mamahalin ko siya ng buong puso.” I can't say that I'm perfect, but I promise to love her with my whole heart.

“Ang anak ba namin ang dahilan bakit tumitibok ang puso mo, ijo?” Is our child the reason why your heart races, dear? Your mother asks.

Another brief silence passes before he nods. “Opo, pero maliban po sa ganyan. Siya ang dahilan na bakit ako nabubuhay, kung bakit ako gumigising sa umaga at natutulog sa gabi. Sa totoo, parang hindi ko na kayang itago ang aking nararamdaman sa kanya. Kung pwede po sa inyo, gusto ko siya ligawin.” Yes, but she's more than that. She's the reason why I'm alive, why I wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night. In honesty, I don't think I can hide my feelings for her any longer, so please, give me the permission to court her.

Your heart freezes in your chest, skipping a beat. Your hand slips, causing the plate to fall down with a loud crash. You quickly knelt over, gathering the larger pieces, and accidentally drawing blood. Your eyes widened in a panic as you scrambled up and got cleaning supplies to fix the mess your nosiness made.

As you clean up, a silhouette looms over you, his hand touching your shoulder as he peers beyond and sees your bloody hand and broken shards.

“Ano ba nangyari rito?” What happened here? Zayne’s voice breaks the silence in the room. “Patingin nga.” Let me see.

You let out your bloody hand to him. He glances around it, careful and precise in his touch to ensure that there will be no further injuries. He helps you sit down, finding clean cloths and water.

“Wag kang gagalaw.” Don't move. He instructs. You nodded and tried your best to stay still. He begins to clean the wound with water and soap before leaving for a moment to get his first aid kit that he brought everywhere with him, especially during visiting patients. He cleans your hands with antiseptic, his hands firm and kind. Perhaps this was why he was a well-sought out doctor. The way he treated and helped nursed his patients back to health, his firm and unwavering dedication didn’t stem from ethics alone, but was grounded in a genuine love and care for the people he spends his whole life serving and taking care of.

You wince, trying to take your hand away but he holds on.

“Diba sinabi ko wag kang gagalaw?" Didn't I tell you not to move? He repeats himself. You nodded once more, murmuring an apology to him. He pauses for a moment before continuing.

In the silence of the kitchen table, your mind raced.

Ligaw. Courtship.

Zayne wanted to court you, he was asking your parents permission for him to court you. Honestly, if tradition never mattered, you would step out from where you’re hiding and give him the permission yourself, but for now, you kept quiet and listened on. You wondered if he knew you were swooping, or was he keeping that information to himself?

What surprised you more was his reasoning behind the reason why he wanted to do it.

You were the reason why he survived Manila, why he survived Europe and other parts of Asia he traveled to study.

You were the reason why he continued on with medicine.

You were the reason why he returned back to the province he was born and raised in.

In the coldest hours of morning, before the sun rises over the horizon and the small town bounces with life, you were the comfort he was looking for. That warm and never ceasing comfort he has been searching and longing for his whole life.

You were all of these things and more, and Zayne had kept that inside his chest for so long that he can feel his heart explode if it was kept in for longer.

“Ano bang nangyari?” What happened even?He asks, wrapping your hand in gauze.

“Nalaglag ko ang plato hinahawakan ko.” I dropped my plate. You admitted.

He hums, nodding his head at your answer. He made sure it was secure before letting go and reminding you to be more careful with the things you hold and your surroundings. His voice silences as the quiet sounds of your parents’ footsteps get farther and farther away as they rested for the night.

You said your goodbyes, watching him leave the house and the door closes behind him. Your hand lingers for longer against the wood, as if hoping Zayne would show up and remind you one more time to take care of yourself before going, but that wouldn’t be happening tonight.

The next time you saw Zayne was months later.

You were so busy taking care of your parents, and he was away for a while. You tried to ask the people who worked at his clinic, or Caleb, or your own parents about where he is and neither had a proper answer to your question.

You were worried,to say the least. Had he run away from his own feelings? Had he run away from you? No, that wouldn’t make sense for Zayne to do. You tried to think of other possible reasons to console your pacing mind. Perhaps he went to Manila to work, or perhaps visited his parents, maybe had other patients beyond their small town.

It was the middle of the night when you found yourself awake once more, your mind lingers on with the possible reasons why he hasn’t shown up, and about what you had overheard from the talk with your parents months ago. The windows were closed, but allowed some air inside to keep you cool and comfortable. You tossed and turned in bed when you heard a faint sound of a guitar being strummed.

You paused, glancing at the window. Another strum of the guitar and a cough. Slowly, you got up from the bed and approached the window, your hands lingering around, thinking about whether to push it open or keep it close.

That's when you heard singing.

That's when you heard Zayne singing.

His voice was crisp and clear, emotions pouring out of his mouth as he sang to the sound of a guitar. There were some snickers here and there, perhaps from his friends but nonetheless, he continued on. You smiled to yourself, allowing his voice to soothe your own troubles and worries. It goes on for several more minutes, but the idea was the same: please open your window and let me catch a glimpse of your face.

As the last song finishes up, you open the windows to your room and look down, your hands covering your blushing face.

Zayne was there, his hands outstretched with a smile on his face. When he sees your face,he lowers his hands and looks up. There was a hint of red plastered on his face too, making you crack a smile. His friends were there as well, supporting him in his endeavors to woo you over. Caleb nudges Zayne before saying something you didn’t hear. You went outside of your room, surprised to see your parents awake too.

“Oh? Papasukin mo ba sila?”Oh? Will you let him in then? Was all the confirmation you needed from your parents before opening the door to them. Zayne sighs in relief, he has passed the first test. He greeted your parents and you as they settled down for a while. You sat beside your parents, watching them prepare the next songs.

As Zayne sings throughout the night, he compliments various things about you. How you smiled, carrying yourself with grace , how your eyes shone under the sun and your hair forming a halo around you like an angel. How you treated others with love, how hard you worked for your family, how you loved so tenderly and freely that it felt like a crime if he were to let go of such a chance of loving you.

He continues to sing alongside the guitar being played, the words seemingly fly out of his mouth as he says sweet everythings to you. You smile throughout, unable to hide it any further as you lean in forward, eager to listen to him sing.

In a response to his efforts, you sing back to him. You came up with a response to his efforts, and mentioned the things you liked about him. His handsome face, his steady and strong hands, his dedication to his work, the way he cared about others around him and prioritized their safety first and foremost. You sing about accepting his love, comparing it to the home you lived in; stable and worth returning to time and time again.

His face turns to a brighter shade of red as you continue on. He tried to bury his face, but his smile was so big that his hands couldn’t seem to hide it. But just like you , he listened to every word said about him.

You sang a duet together, your voices mixing with the guitar’s melody. Singing a duet together means that you had accepted his effort into wooing you over.

In honesty, you have accepted it for a long time already. You know that he loved you, in any way a man like he could. He loved you in his reminders, he loved you in his touch and longing stares, and most of all, he loved you since and had only taken the leap of faith to sing his feelings about you and you were there to catch him.

You sang a few more songs together before he finally wraps it up with a goodbye song. He thanked your parents one more time before he and his friends left, closing the door behind them. The silence of memory and song fills the living room but you were shifting around, glancing at the door. You bounced your leg, tapping your fingers against your bouncing knee.

“Pupuntahan mo siya?” Will you go to him? Your mother asked, as if she was able to read your mind. She knew you weren't the most traditional following girl especially when it was getting in the way of what you truly wanted. You glanced up before nodding.

“Puntahan mo na, ija. Sino ba ako para pigilan ka?” Go to him, my dear. Who am I to stop you?

You hugged your mother before rushing out the door, then heading back inside to get a shawl and change your slippers. As much as your mother allowed you to be more independent as you got older, cleanliness was a rule you followed.

You rushed outside, the cold wind blowing through your thin shawl and clothes. The full moon brightens up the way before you as the lamps slowly get dimmer and farther away.

“Zayne!” You yelled out, causing him to stop in his tracks and run back to you. He sets the lamp down on the ground and cups your cheek, inspecting to make sure you weren’t hurt.

“Ano po iyon, magandang binibini?” What's the matter, Miss beautiful? He asks, “Na-istrobo ko ba kayo? Pasensya na po, Binibini pero gusto ko lang makita yung iyong mga ngiti.” Did I disturb you? I'm sorry, Miss but all I want is to see your smile.

You huffed, and looked away for a moment. He chuckled, and tilted your face towards him. His eyes lingered on your lips, but he kept his restraint. It was far too early or quick for him to do that. He was supposed to take his time when he courts her and she in turn, wouldn’t give in so easily.

“At ngayon, nakita ko na ang pinakamagandang ngiti sa balat ng lupa.” And now, I have seen the most beautiful smile in the world. He smiles, his hands lingering on her lips, “Kaya makakatulong ako ngayong gabi ng mabuti.” Which means I can sleep well at night.

“Pero kung ikaw makakatulong ng mabuti ngayong gabi, paano naman ba ako?” But if you get to sleep well at night, how about me? You asked, your eyes glancing at his face. You cupped his cheeks in turn and pulled him close to you, making him hunch down.

“Pwede ba kitang halikan?" May I kiss you? You whisper, leaning in close.

“Pwede.” You may. He answers.

You leaned in close, holding his cheeks against yours as your lips met together. A soft yet bright flame burned through you both. You closed your eyes, your hands wrapped around his neck as you stood on your toes. Pulling away, you take a deep breath, your face turning even redder than ever. Zayne smiles, tracing your lips with his finger before kissing you once more.

Once the act was done, you both stood there , wrapped in each other’s arms. The comfortable silence filling the quiet night as the moon and stars served as witnesses to a love that took years, decades, in the making. You took your hands away from him, reminding him to head home safely. He picks up his lamp, waves goodbye and begins to walk away while you return to the steps of your home.

Your love continued to blossom and developed, increasing in passion and devotion as time continued. You and Zayne exchanged love letters, all of which you kept in a box hidden beneath your clothes. There were times you’d find him outside your window, courting you with sweet songs that you’d reply to. You would bring fresh produce to Zayne, making sure he had a sufficient supply and in turn, Zayne made sure to use them up, creating simple and warm meals for his patients and himself. He would buy his produce from you alone, carrying them in his arms with pride and satisfaction, knowing he had gotten it from the woman he loved and who loved him back.

As time continues to pass, he brings you around him, keeping you close as he was invited to event after event. He would hold your hand and proudly introduce you as the woman he loved, causing the others to stare in disbelief, awe, or envy, but neither of it truly mattered to him.

You were with him and that was more than enough for the both of you.

In the midst of dancing crowds and conversations, you both would slip away from the crowd to spend time together and danced to the beat of your rhythms.

You also became a more frequent face in the clinic he worked at, your presence bringing relief to Zayne especially. When he went to other places, you were with him as you travelled to even more far-fetched communities to provide them with the healthcare they needed and deserved. You watched Zayne work and take care of patients from various walks of life, age, and class, treating them all as individuals needing help. You watched him explain diagnosis to patients and possible solutions around it. You helped him clean around, making sure that the place was spotless and disinfected from any contaminants.

As the day comes to a close, you helped him lock the clinic for the day, changing the sign to indicate that clinic hours were done. You accompanied Zayne, visited patients under his care and checked on their current statuses. Luckily for you both, there weren’t many people he had to see so you two headed back.

When you both arrive back at Zayne’s , you find yourselves standing in front of the same place you both stood on years ago when he left for Manila for the first time.

Gone were the days that you were carefree children, gone were the days you played and read together, and most of all, gone were the days you admired Zayne from afar because you were in his arms. You grabbed something from your pocket, revealing a small cloth. You began to unwrap it, revealing to Zayne an old flower, its colors pressed away and its petals fragile.

“Naalala mo ba ito?” Do remember this? You ask, “Ito yung binigay mo sa aking pag-alis mo papuntang Manila noon. Tinago at protektahan ko ito.” This is what you gave me before you left for Manila before. I hid and protected it with my whole heart.

Zayne smiles, stepping closer to inspect the old and dried flower. He nods, “Oo, naalala ko.” Yes, I remember. He answers, “At pareho sa bulaklak na ito, aalagaan kita at ilalagay ka sa puso ko. Hindi na ko aalis kasi,” And like this flower, I will take care of you and place you in my heart. I don't need to leave because, He brushes gently against the petals and places it aside, “Kasi nakauwi na ako.” Because, I'm home.

As the years pass, both families had met and given approval should you and Zayne finally decide to settle down. There wasn’t a date as to when or where, but that's alright for the both of you. You were still enjoying your time as a couple before settling down for good.

You were both sleeping on a hammock, the wind swinging you and Zayne gently. You were resting on his chest,hearing the sound of his heart beating. A steady rhythm brings you comfort as you rest from the afternoon sun.

In your dreams, you and Zayne finally settled down. You called each other wife and husband, which turned into nanay at tatay when the dream children joined the picture. You’d like to imagine there are two of them, one boy and one girl that you and he would love endlessly. Perhaps both would act and look like him and you would smile and remark how they acted similar to him.

Yes, that sounds nice.

You continue to dream about the lives you would have one day, seeing glimpses of your routine being modified, seeing the children’s smiles and hearing their laughs, and the love you shared with them came from the love you and Zayne have and will continue to have.

“Gising ka na ba? Naririnig kita magsalita.” Are you awake? I heard you talking in your sleep.

Zayne’s voice breaks through the dreams and pulls you back to reality. You glance up at him, seeing his messy hair and his glasses perched on his nose.

You shake your head, “Ah hindi, hindi. Hindi ako nagsasalita." Oh no, no, no. I wasn't talking.

Zayne nods, “Pero nguniniti ka. Ano ba panaginip mo?” But you were smiling. What were you dreaming about?

“Tayo.” Us.

“Tayo?” Us?

You nodded.

He smiles and shakes his head, before placing a kiss on your forehead, “Parang hindi ko na kailangan panagimpan iyan dahil naging totoo siya.” I don't need it to dream about it because it is real.

[ambeauty]

thoughts about Sydney and Carmy’s Love Story as told through the music in The Bear

If you know anything about the bear you know that the music is extremely important to the storytelling. There have been many metas about specific songs and versions of songs and the artists and genre influence the story. For this one, I’d like to illustrate how I think the music replaces the dialogue and tells Sydney and Carmy’s love story more overtly. Chris curates the music and editing choices himself so I know that every song choice is intentional as well as where they are placed. I believe that when the dialogue drops out and the lyrics come in and are transcribed into the subtitles, it is done to illustrate what the characters are feeling in these moments even when they can’t explain those feelings themselves. These are just a few examples but I believe there are many many more.

Season 1

Impossible Germany by Wilco- plays infamously behind Sydney and Carmy in Sheridan as she discusses her catering business failing. Their first moment of vulnerability. Sydney also asks Carmy for help. Something she doesn’t really like to do. The lyrics on the subtitles are “That’s what love is.”

Season 2

Pasta- You are Not Alone by Mavis Staple - the through line of the entire season. This song plays as Sydney has dinner with her father to celebrate her mother’s birthday and Carmy is reintroduced to Claire. This moment initiates what is the central rift between these two characters will be. Who are theoretically loners, but able to find kinship with each other. However a new character threatens that dynamic and possibility. The lyrics of You Are Not Alone describe them perfectly.

Forks - Love Story by Taylor Swift- “Marry me Juliet you never have to be alone. I talked to your dad go pick out a white dress.”

This lyric plays at the end credits of forks. The beginning of forks shows Carmy and Sydney working on the renovations of the bear. Separately but together, yet still alone. I also think that lyric represents the future partnership agreement which is a business marriage of the two. Once they are official partners, they’ll never have to be alone. Also "I talk to your dad" is funny because we know how Emmanuel feels about Carmy and how they have yet to meet. What will that meeting mean for Sydney and Carmy?

Most episodes in S2 after the end of Sundae, where Sydney loses trust in Carmy after her ditches her, shows her doing research and design alone. She never goes back to his home.

Even though Carmy is with Claire there’s a sense of loneliness for him in her world, because he doesn’t quite fit. This might be a reach, but I just tried to analyze his body language in Pop, which to me felt stiff and uneasy. He knows he’s supposed to be somewhere else but he’s trying to cure his loneliness with Claire as she is the first person that truly forces him to confront his failures at forming romantic relationships.

Season 3

No Machine by Adrianne Lenker - the lyrics "don’t know what I’d do without you" illustrate a scene where Carmy is thinking of a conversation with Claire, the scene cuts and everything is blurry around him but Sydney's voice is clear, the scene cuts again and its Richie in the dining room listening but thinking about his family. Another lyric/subtitle "don't know where I'd go without you" and it cuts again to Sydney at home contemplating her relationship with Carmy from the beginning. All 3 of our main characters are contemplating what they mean to each other and what their life is like with them in it. I think this song describes the throughline of the season as well. They are all contemplate the importance of these bonds they have created and what they actually mean.

I'm quite sure there are many other examples of this occurring but I don't have the capacity to do the amount of research this requires. However, if you notice this pattern of the music enhancing the emotional depth of the characters and the story and want to share please do so.

Hopefully this makes sense and not more senseless sydcarmy babble!

[dirtyslag96]

Idiots in love-James Maguire

Pairing: James Maguire/fem!reader

Rating: PG-16

Words: 1,331 words

Warnings: Fluff, Lying, Curse words, use of Y/N, love interests being idiots in love and oblivious to eachothers love for the other, not proof read

Synopsis: You notice James subtly trying to get your attention and you're not sure why, so you try to find out as you perhaps started developing feelings for the Brit. you're sure of one thing, and that no matter how hard you had tried to lie, he will find out.

My Masterlist

a/n: based on prompt #1018 from this list (“Shut up, I’m trying to confess my love to you.”) ". requested by @themallonbisexualmess , also I would appreciate some tips since I'm still new to writing fics, also dialogue between the five will be characterised by the colour, Y/N, Orla, Erin, James, Michelle, Clare

The first day you met James you considered him quite odd, not only because he was English but also he was attending an all girls school and was somehow Michelle Mallon's cousin.

All six of you were sat at Erin and Orla's house after school playing board games when suddenly the home telephone rings.

"would someone go get that its making me deaf for Christ's sake", said Erin.

"Gerry make yourself useful would ya", announced Joe, clearly annoyed by Erin's father.

Gerry looked confused but nevertheless walked over to answer, "Hello?, Yeah she's right here", a couple of seconds later, "I'll let her know"

"Y/N, your parents want you back home in 10 minutes"

"Oh, isn't it a bit early? did they tell you why?", you were confused since it was still 9 o'clock and your parents usually have you curfew by 12.

"No, would you like a ride home?", you never understood why Joe hated Erin's dad so much considering he was the most thoughtful and caring one of all your parents.

"For fuck's sake Y/N did you do something?", Michelle alway commented on everything happening.

"Yeah its a bit weird"

"James, how many times have I told you we do not care"

Seeing James' dissapointed face made you even sadder you were leaving early, though you never understood why your mood also often depended on his. Perhaps you had feelings for him? no, you wouldn't believe it even if you did.

"I'll be on my way then, see you tomorrow", involuntarily you felt yourself looking at James. "Thank you Gerry I would appreciate it if you got me a ride home"

"Bye Y/N!", all of them shouted.

"Finally being useful for once", you heard Joe snicker as you left out the door.

The next day, you had told Clare about it, she said that you definitely have some feelings for him, since you trusted Clare's judgement you've started noticing that James mostly starts conversations directly to you. Clare also had pointed out that when the Ukrainian girl showed up hitting on James, that you had been more closed off and easily exasperated than usual.

The six of you were suspended since Michelle and James had broken the statue "The Child of Prague", while arguing so you all had agreed to meet up at Erin's place for the week. Your mix of emotions towards James had led you to unintentionally start avoiding him, surprisingly Michelle and Clare had been subtly trying push you two together. You speculated that Clare must've told Michelle or that they had also felt a drift between you and James.

Orla pulled out a board game that had the six of you pair up into three teams of two, to decide who would be paired together you all wrote your names at placed it in a random jar that Erin found in the kitchen.

"Orla and...", Clare!", Erin said as she was the one who pulled out the names.

"Interesting..", muttered Orla as Clare took in a loud sigh.

"Y/N and..", "James!", was the universe really fucking with you? you look at him, seeing his happy face made you feel things you never expected to feel for James, then you attempted to avert his gaze but soon enough you looked up to his disappointed and baffled face to why you were trying to avoid him.

Michelle noticed the tension between you two so she broke the deafening silence, "So that leaves me n' you Erin, this is rank".

"Start without me I don't feel well I feel like throwing up, I'll be up in the bathroom", in truth you wanted to be as far away from James as you can so you practically dash upstairs to Erin's toilet. The rest of the five looked quite baffled since nothing seemed wrong with you but you have been acting rather weird these past few days.

You heard a pair of footsteps coming up the stairs and you assumed someone had come up looking for you, you heard a knock on the door, you were praying it wasn't him. But then again you heard knocking again and a voice, James' voice "Y/N are you okay in there?".

You had two options either lie and say you were sick or...

"Y/N!", his voice yet again heard, interrupts your train of thoughts, so you slowly walk over to the bathroom door and open it.

"oh.. hey you said you weren't feeling well so I came up here to check on you but you seem fine right now", right now you couldn't have felt any better since he came up here concerned, the way his hair was ruffled yet tidy, the way his accent affected his words, and his voice.

You remained quiet for a long time, "uh-i guess I didnt need to throw up after all", you said as you tried to push past him to get out of the small bathroom that could have suffocated both of you with the amount of tension in the air.

To your surprise he shifted quickly, blocking you and closing the door acting like a shield. "what-"

"no, I don't get it you've been avoiding me! why? did I do something wrong for fuck's sake Michelle even noticed! she asked if I annoyed you but I would never do it on purpose just please tell what is going on!", his outburst surprised since usually he was quiet and self preserved.

"there's nothing wrong James I don't know where you're getting that idea from"

slowly he stepped forward before he spoke, "you are lying, I can tell-"

"I-, what? this is ridiculous James let me out of here!"

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the rest of the group followed James upstairs and are now listening to your conversation through the door.

"No! not until you tell me what's wrong, have I upset you, , I notice everything about you don't you get it Y/N- ?", his face nearly made you crumble, you felt bad for irritating him as much as you are right know but you are not confessing why you have been avoiding him.

"for crying out loud, no James you haven't upset me in any way shape or form, this is stupid-", you were both cutting each other off, he was not letting you lie, while you were trying not to let him catch on to your feelings.

"Would you shut up, I have been trying to confess my emotions of love to you all week, and you have been simply ignoring that do you know how hurt I felt thinking I had upset you or something!”

You were in genuine shock and you were sure you heard a few gasps from outside the door.

"Do you actually feel that way James? because if so then so do I.."

Like magnets, you both came forward pressing your lips together, you felt him smile. Next thing you know the rest of the girls opened the door and saw both of you, they yelled and talked over eachother at the same time

"OH FINALLY!", exclaimed Clare,

"The form of human art always so interesting", Orla muttered as always,

"Congrats?!", Erin was quite unsure of what to say since she found two of her best friends kissing in her bathroom.

"FINALLY! you two took a long time figuring each other's feelings I was tortured by James talking about you all the time, and Clare the poor girl had to endure you talking about James!", you assumed Michelle would hate the idea of one other bestfriends and her cousin being together.

"What the fuck!", you both yelled while slamming the bathroom door closed and hearing giggles not the other end, you and James looked at each other and started laughing.

"You two get back out here I'm still not a hundred percent on the pair of you, but just because I approve doesn't mean you can start fucking"

"Yeah please not inside of my bathroom either!"

fin.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

How to Use Absurdist Humor

I will often excuse away the “worst” of Marinette’s behavior with a very dismissive, “It’s an obvious joke, so there’s no point taking this as a serious character beat. Let’s not waste our time here.”

While I stand by that statement, I can see why some people struggle with this approach. Miraculous has made the unfortunate choice to tie the humor to parts of the narrative that have actual meaning to the audience. This undercuts the power of the humor, making it hard for some people to separate the humor from the actual character beats, so let’s step back and look at a show that did this right to show what I mean.

That’s right, folks, it’s time for more gushing about Kim Possible!

For today’s case study, we'll start with episode 17 of season one: The Twin Factor. In this episode, Kim is stuck babysitting her little brothers while on a mission to stop her arch nemesis. You may be thinking that Kim's "flaw" in this episode is the fact that she brings two 10-year-olds on a dangerous mission.

You would be wrong.

This is the lead-in to Kim bringing the twins along:

Kim: Er, speaking of forgetting, I totally spaced on the baby-sitting. Mrs. Dr. Possible: Kimmy, you made a commitment. Kim: Two commitments, actually. I'm suppose to go on a mission today. Mr. Dr. Possible: You'll just have to take the boys. Kim: Mom, can you please tell Dad that's a bad idea? Mrs. Dr. Possible: Oh, Kimmy. I'm sure Jim and Tim would love to visit a secret lab with you.

This is how you do absurdist humor. Is this technically horrible parenting? Yes, but there is no way that anyone is taking this seriously. It’s just so over the top that anyone trying to criticize the Possible’s behavior comes across as completely missing the point.

The other important factor is that Kim’s parents are played as genuinely loving and supportive parents, just in a really absurd way. This is a very natural bit of loving family dialogue about a totally ridiculous version of a normal family conflict. None of these three characters show off flaws that we expect to see address here save for their complete lack of concern about Kim’s life-risking adventures.

If Kim’s parents were shown to be genuinely neglectful or if Kim’s adventures were played more seriously, then this humor wouldn’t work anywhere near as well as it does. It would still be an obvious joke, but it would stumble the landing if you knew that the episode would go on to see Jim and Tim die. (They don’t, btw. The absurdist humor carries on, I’m just giving an extreme example of a plot beat that would kill – or at least weaken – this humor.)

Another example of Kim Possible doing absurdist humor right comes from the next episode in season one: Animal Attraction. In this episode, Kim is up against Senior Senior Senior, an eccentric billionaire who pursues villainy as a hobby, leading to exchanges like this one between him and his son:

Jr.: Did we not leave Kim Possible on a conveyor belt to her doom? Sr.: Yes. A proper villain always leaves his foe when he's about to expire. Jr.: Why? Sr.: Well, it would be bad form just to lull about, waiting for it. Jr.: Why? Sr.: Tradition!

This episode has a lot of moments like this. Moments where Jr asks why they don't do the obvious, more easy/effective thing and his father blows him off because that's not how villains do things! It's totally illogical logic and it's great. I love it! Perfect example of absurdist villains and a great way to keep the show from getting too serious. The writers never wanted you to feel like Kim was in over her head.

If you look at these two examples and compare them to Miraculous, you'll notice a big difference. While Miraculous does occasionally pull off good absurdist humor, a lot of the absurdist humor is more questionable because it's tied to the show's central conflicts.

As an example, let's talk about Marinette's inability to confess to Adrien and all the nonsense tied to that. Her many failures and attempts to know him better are clearly jokes, but they have this serious edge because the show has not set up the love square as nothing more than a source of humor. This is our end game couple. The audience expects to see their romance developed. The longer the show goes on without doing that and the more absurd Marinette's attempts get, the less the comedy works.

Another good example is Lila's lies. There is a solid argument to be made that the writers are trying to be funny with Lila's extremely obvious lies, but it doesn't work because the lies are a source of serious conflict. Lila is working with the villain! She gets Marinette expelled! We want to see her outed! Every obvious lie she tells just grates on our nerves because this is not the time for jokes!

To be fair, you can use absurdist humor in more serious shows. Another of my personal favorites is The Good Place, which relies heavily on absurdist humor, but has a very serious and heartfelt overall plot. The humor works there because the show knew when to use the humor and when to be serious and also because The Good Place is not a formula show. It's a serialized show. One big story told in 20-minute chunks. This meant that the humor had more room to breath and could be more closely tied to serious conflicts. When every story has to stand alone and be finished in 20-minutes, that blending rarely ever works. You're trying to do too much.

Kim Possible's writers knew this, too. The two tie-in movies (Kim Possible: A Sitch in Time and So the Drama) are still comedies, but they both have far more serious tones because they had the time to do that. While the episodes run about 20 minutes, both movies run a little over and hour which meant they could be more serious than in a standard episode.

So why did I write all that up? Because I was watching Kim Possible and thinking about how much better the humor generally was and I suddenly realized how easy it would be to be confused by Miraculous' humor if you didn't have this kind of background. I've seen enough absurdist humor to identify it with ease and even I struggle with Miraculous at times. Like I'm still not sure if Lila's lies are supposed to be a joke or not.

If you're new to absurdist humor or struggle to interpret less overt humor? Then I can see how you'd take Miraculous way more seriously than the writers intended because a lot of the absurdist humor simply isn't absurd enough. That doesn't change the fact that it's humor and I'm still going to treat it as such, but I can see why it goes right over some people's heads and leads to complaints like, "Marinette has his schedule for the next three years!!!" That was a joke, but I get why you're missing it.

[cerastes]

Bro any time I think about Valkyria Chronicles I laugh my nipples off, the game is fundamentally flawed gameplaywise but, simultaneously, it's stupidly fun, which is the recipe for any club banger, it has a story that weaves flawlessly between "that's pretty poignant" and "this is some goofy goober shit", it's got the horrors of war but also this fucking pig piece of shit mascot, Hans,

It's an amalgam of white and black without any gray: It exists on extremes, and it never intersects, it's playing two parallel lines and coming to terms with the fact that you'll never see cohesion but that somehow enhances the end product in ways evidently no one intended. You have narrative comparisons with the persecution of jews and, at the same time, the game ends with the bad guy getting German Suplexed.

But I think the funniest aspect of Valkyria Chronicles The First is that the main character is the farthest thing from a war hero they could possibly muster with the expertise of a stoic Japanese swordsmith from the mountains crafting a god-cleaving blade: Welkin.

This Scout From TF2 Put Through An Anime Filter looking mother fucker was chilling in his hometown talking about how much he wanted to be a teacher and showing people his really good sketches of animals because he's also a gifted artist, when suddenly, the Dudes attack, and his reaction to the Dudes attacking is "hang on, I recall my dad hiding his actual service tank in the shed in the back" so he goes and, yeah, his dad's tank from a previous war is just there, chilling, so he takes it for a joy ride while the town baker, Alicia, armed with a rifle and infinite action economy due to the afore mentioned flawed gameplay, sweeps the entire god damn platoon of heavily armed machine gun troops.

The entire game is Welkin using his love for nature and his baker love interest to inflict insane personnel and materiel damage to an entire empire: Welkin and Alicia will come across a heavily fortified bridge, and the dialogue will go something like

"Welkin! They will pulverize us with the heaviest machine guns known to man if we step one foot in that bridge! They practically developed wooden low-orbit bombardment stations! What's the plan!"

"Well... Look at that duck over there. It's flying from the east to the west, right? Well, YOU SEE, that duck is known as a Balkunese Socioduck, and those, during this season, migrate from west to east, and they only exhibit this irregular flight path if a Matrisgel Weasel family is molting by the juniper berry bushes, their favorite food. Matrisgel Weasels only ever molt if they are put under the exact amount of stress caused to them by the sound of distant tank threads on the road, and they are known to hide in sturdy, stable soil."

"Welkin, SIR, what the fuck does this all mean?"

"If we follow the smoldering shrieking of the molting weasels, we'll find a SECRET PATH that will, as always, let us ambush, flank, and surprise our foes! Alicia, you know what to do."

"Ogggeyyyyy"

and then, invariably, no matter the level, thanks to Welkin's impressive knowledge of fauna and flora, and Alicia's literally infinite action economy in a game that wasn't properly beta tested in-house during development, they combine their powers like a piss poor Captain Planet and kill the absolute shit out of an entire Empire's worth of dudes, and it's legitimately one of the most fun and charming games you'll ever touch if you remember to not take it too seriously. I fucking hate Hans but I love this game.

[augustjoy]

Why are you in my head? Pt. 3

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff/Angst - Part 1 Part 2 Part 4** Part 5

Word count: 2583

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, no use of y/n, fem reader, mentions of drugs/sale of drugs/drug use, arguing, mentions of Eddie’s drug addict parents, mention of post-partum depression, mention of child endangerment, mention of child death, mention of murder, mention of suicide, mention of foster care, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story

I miss you so fucking much. How could you think so little of me. I’m sorry. You just don’t understand what it’s like. You don’t even know me. We’re soulmates, of course I know you. Our thoughts weren’t shared until we were both teenagers, you know nothing about how I was brought up. Can I see you? Please.

Thoughts between soulmates were shared more frequently when experiencing high levels of stress, primarily during long periods of separation after meeting, or fighting.

“Hey bug, Eddie’s on the phone for you.” Your dad knocked lightly on your door.

“Tell him I don’t want to talk to him!” You hollered up to your dad.

Since your fight with Eddie, one week ago, your parents had noticed your very apparent, sour mood. You really had no choice but to tell them that you had in fact met your soulmate and had been hanging out with him non-stop. Your mom had been thrilled for you; she had wanted to know everything about Eddie. Your dad on the other hand, he was furious. He clocked the tear tracks that ran down your cheeks the second you walked in the door, and he wanted Eddie’s address so he could kick his ass. You had assured him that it wouldn’t be necessary, that no matter how upset you were in the moment, in your heart you knew the two of you would be able to work things out.

“Sweetie, maybe you should take his call.” Your mom suggested.

“Maybe you should butt out!” You shouted back.

You were immediately filled with regret. Quickly making your way up the stairs you threw open your door to come face to face with your parents.

“Mom, I am so sorry.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, her hand gently brushing at the hair on the back of your head. She always did this when you hugged, and it always brought a warm comfort throughout your body.

“It’s okay. I know that you are upset. Maybe you should try talking to him sweetie, it might make you feel better.” She suggested once more.

“Okay, I guess you’re probably right.” You nodded.

“Well, that’s good because he is on his way right now.” Your dad informed you.

“What? Dad! A little warning would be nice! He doesn’t live that far, and I have to get ready!” You started scrambling down the stairs into your room to get ready.

Your parents chuckled, remembering what it was like to be that young and new in love.

A knock at the door had you sprinting up the stairs and practically shoving your dad out of the way so you could get there first. You weren’t quite ready to have Eddie meet your parents, especially since you aren’t currently on the best of terms.

You opened the door with just enough room to slide out of the house. You took note of Eddie’s disheveled appearance, he had bags under his eyes, his hair looked especially frizzy, and his skin didn’t have its usual glow.

“Hey.” He said sheepishly.

“Hi.” You replied.

“Did you uh, did you want to go sit in the van and talk?” Eddie said gesturing to where it was parked at the end of your driveway.

You nodded and the two of you made your way to the vehicle. He wanted so badly to pull you into his arms and kiss all this pain away, but he knew that it wouldn’t be that simple, he had made some snap judgements and said some hurtful things to you. He knew he needed to apologize and that the two of you still had a lot to learn about one another.

“Baby, I am so sorry. I said some awful shit to you, and I shouldn’t have. I just, I am so used to having people judge me. For how I look, for where I live, who I live with, the people I hang out with, the music I listen to, the field of work I’m in. And I know that you weren’t judging me, that you were just looking out for me because you care, but baby I couldn’t help but let those past feelings eat me alive when you were talking to me.” Eddie explained.

“Eddie, I appreciate you apologizing. I’ve had time to think about things too and I can understand how my reaction could have come across as judgmental. Eddie, my dad is a cop, I have heard what happens to people when they’re caught with a little bit of weed in their possession, but if you were caught selling it, or something worse. Eddie I can’t lose you. Not when I have only just found you.” Tears were running down your face at this point.

Eddie scooted closer to you on the bench of the van, he brought his hand up to cup your cheek, gently brushing away your tears with his thumb. He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. When you two broke apart, he leaned his forehead against your own, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I am so sorry baby. Please forgive me?”

“Eddie, before I can forgive you, I need to know that you don’t really think of me like that. I may come from a well-off family now, but there is a lot you don’t know about me and I just – I need to know that you don’t see me as some privileged brat.” You begged.

“Sweetheart, no! I don’t think of you that way. I am so sorry! I don’t even know why I said that. It’s like a defense mechanism. I know that there’s so much I don’t know about you, and I hope that you will trust me enough to tell me everything there is to know about you.” He rushed.

You were both startled by a knock on the window. Looking over at the passenger window, you were mortified to see your dad standing there, giving you and Eddie a small wave. He then gestured for you to roll the window down. You visibly cringed as you began cranking the window open, mouthing an embarrassed apology to Eddie.

“Dadddd…what do you want?” You whined.

“Your mother sent me out here to let you know that dinner is ready. She also wanted me to ask if your friend here would be joining us.” He explained.

Your eyes darted over to Eddie. You were trying to decipher his expression, was he as horrified as you were? Was he intrigued by the idea of meeting your parents.? Was he ready to flee and never return?

Would you want me to stay?

You couldn’t help but smile. His thought was timed perfectly, this soulmate thing definitely had its perks.

Of course I want you to stay! I just don’t want them to scare you off.

“If it’s alright with you sir, I’d like to stay for dinner.” Eddie looked at your dad, who replied with a curt nod.

“I can’t believe you’re a Metallica fan! I just finished learning Master of Puppets on my guitar!” Eddie gushed.

“That’s a tough song, I bet you had to practice for weeks!” Your dad indulged Eddie.

This is so embarrassing! Your dad is so cool!

Your mom laughed at the exchange between the two men and she and you cleared the table. She gave you a knowing look and nodded towards your room.

“Why don’t you two go watch a movie, your dad and I can clear the rest of this up.” She suggested.

“Only if you’re sure.” You asked, gaze shifting from your mom to your dad.

“Door stays open.” Your dad pointed towards you.

With that you grabbed Eddie’s hand and led him down to your room, being sure to leave your door open, per your dad’s request. As you descended the stairs, Eddie’s jaw made its way to the floor. He was amazed by your room, you had records hung on the walls and ceiling, one of your walls had an incredible photo collage, with photos of you, your friends and family throughout the years, and below that were stacks of books next to a small desk. He’d have to ask you about who all these people were. You also had a projector screen that you clearly used for movies.

“This is amazing! You read J.R.R. Tolkien and Stephen King? And these records, this is so cool, I would never want to leave if this was my room!” Eddie exclaimed.

God, like you could get any hotter.

“Yeah, my parents are pretty cool about letting me express my creative freedoms or whatever.” You shrugged.

You couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, Eddie had talked about how you got everything you’d ever wanted, and this made that seem true. If only he knew.

Things had continued on pretty well with you and Eddie over the next few months. You guys had grown closer, trusting one another with the heavier secrets of your lives. Eddie had told more in depth about his parents. His mom had gotten hooked on drugs thanks to his dad, who was quick to put hands on Eddie and his mom when he was under the influence – which seemed to be more often than not.

You had wanted to tell Eddie about your past too, but the timing just didn’t seem right. Every time you went to share, something came up, or you were trying to avoid it coming across as you are one-upping him and his trauma.

Things aren’t always what they seem.

Eddie had dinner at your house once a week, and you’d traded off whose house you’d go to after school each day. Nothing physical had transpired between the two of you other than a few heavy make out sessions. At each other’s houses you had fallen into a routine, at yours you would either watch a movie or read, at his you’d either watch a movie, listen to music, or help him with his campaigns.

Tonight happened to be dinner at your house, your parents had suggested ordering a pizza tonight and playing Monopoly. Eddie had enjoyed nights like this, your parents had been extremely welcoming of him. He had appreciated that they didn’t judge him, not once in all the time he has known them. They had been warm and kind and accepting.

Your dad had bonded with him about his taste in music and had shown an interest in Dungeons and Dragons. Your mom talked to him about his future and his dreams of being in a band, but the reality of him probably becoming a mechanic.  Your mom had told him that he should pursue music as long as he had something he could fall back on should it not work out. She told him that he could achieve his dreams as long as he worked hard at it.

These conversations, these dinners, these nights with your family had been amazing, they had also been painful for Eddie. He couldn’t help but feel hurt that he didn’t get to have a childhood like this, that he had to get his ass beat by his dad while his mom was strung out on the couch. He hadn’t been removed from their custody until he was about 10 years old, that’s when child services pulled him from their care and moved him in with Wayne.

Wayne had grown fond of you immediately; he had seen how Eddie had changed immediately after meeting you. He had been happier, which meant the world to Wayne. All Wayne had ever wanted was for Eddie to have something good in his life and here you were. You and Wayne were buds and it filled Eddie with a sense of pride that his uncle approved of you.

Now if only things could stay simple like that forever.

Eddie and you had finished dinner and a game of Monopoly at your house. You were planning to go to Eddie’s after to watch Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2. After pulling up in front of the trailer, Eddie made his way to your side of the van and pulled you out of the car. You giggled as he kissed you and the two of you stumbled into the living room.

He made his way to the kitchen to grab drinks for you both and he began popping some popcorn.

“Sorry about my parents tonight. I know they can be super lame.” You huffed out a laugh.

“What do you mean? Your parents are great!” Eddie said.

“No, I know, but they act so goofy. It’s embarrassing.” You shook your head.

At least you have parents.

“Jesus Eddie.”

“What? I didn’t…oh shit. Babe I’m sorry. It’s just, you should be thankful that you have parents who care about you. Not all of us are that lucky.”

“I’m not that lucky Eddie! Fuck! How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t know me! You don’t know anything about me!” You sighed.

“Then tell me! Please, enlighten me as to how your two wonderful parents can be so bad!” Eddie egged you on.

“THEY'RE NOT MY PARENTS!” You shouted at him, then took a deep breath. “Eddie, they’re not my real parents.”

Eddie sat a looked at you, mouth agape, speechless. You could tell that he was waiting for you to continue, but you needed a moment to collect your thoughts. You had to explain everything, this conversation could change everything.

“My parents, Eddie, they did some horrible shit. Neither of them had any other family, my mom she uh, she had post-partum depression, she wasn’t doing well, for a long time after my little sister was born. I guess that had caused my dad to seek comfort elsewhere, I was only six when all this happened. But uh, my mom she uh she left my sister in the bath alone, my sister slid down into the water and drowned, she was only 8 weeks old. When my dad came home and found her, he was furious. Eddie he killed my mom, and then he killed himself. I ended up in foster care and bounced from home to home until I was twelve, until they took me in.”

“Sweetheart. I, I am so sorry. I don’t, I’m not sure what to say.” Eddie whispered. “But uh, you said. You had mentioned that your mom told you bedtime stories about how her and your dad met.”

“My mom now, she would tell me how her and my dad met, every night until I finally started sleeping.” You explained.

The nightmares made it impossible. I couldn’t stop seeing the blood.

Eddie crossed the room and pulled you into his arms. He couldn’t believe that he had been so stupid this whole time. You had been silently telling him that your life wasn’t all that perfect, that though now, it seemed good, it hadn’t always been. He needed you to know that he was here for you, no matter what.

I’ve got you. I will always have you baby.

A sob escaped your throat, ripping through the silence. Eddie held you; he laid you with him in his bed, his hand brushing through your hair gently, whispering sweet nothings to you.

I haven’t told anyone that story. Nobody, ever. Not even my parents. Your secret is safe with me. You are safe with me. I love you sweetheart. I love you Eds.

Tag List: @sashaphantomhive

[franco-barbis-sweetness]

Guys, I was thinking about Franco and his life story and all of the things that probably happened to him when he was growing up and it genuinely just made me. Really sad ?? This dude wouldn't have been a monster if he didn't have to endure all of the things he did. He wasn't born that way, he was created :(

Like, just think about it. He had defects from birth that affected his appearance, which he was born sometime in the 1930's most likely, and I'm sure his appearance cast him out from society automatically. He was even disowned BY his own father for the way he looked.

His father apparently murdered his mother, and he must've had ENOUGH reason to believe it was his father who did it since he talks about it in his game dialogue. He may not have seen the body or anything but this probably caused some early childhood trauma straight off the bat. (The fact he had nobody to love or nuture him or read him bedtime stories makes me WEEP. He had nobody to be kind to him, to cook him breakfast, to tuck him in, to give him any love at all SOBBINGGGG)

His dad was literally the head of the Martino Crime family. So he grew up constantly surrounded by a life of crime. Blood, murder, violence, all while he was sooo young. All of those things are a horrific environment for a child, yet alone him having to watch his own FATHER being the ringleader of it all.

Salvatore was probably an avid and violent drunk, so I'm sure Franco was beat all of the time. He might have been exposed to some sort of SA from his father at some point, considering how absolutely horrid he was ??

Literally the only mother figures Franco had were his father's various lovers and wives. And all they ever did was neglect or humiliate him. Of course his mafia don father wouldn't attract polite or goodhearted women.

Franco probably grew up believing murder was something good, something to be proud of. He took his first life at 12 years old because he thought it was something that would make his father proud of him. With that being said, the only time that poor baby was ever embaced was when he KILLED somebody ????? And of course, because he got praise for murdering a man, he latched onto that bit of affection and positivity he'd never gotten before, and grew up further starting to do the only thing it seemed he was slightly liked for.

Since he started doing jobs for his dad as a debt collector and hitman, I'm sure he developed a complex through all of that, surrounded by his praise for violence and being unwillingly surrounded by it constantly. He became violent because that's what the world shaped him to become. Franco probably grew so used to the familiarity of killing that that's why he lost all meaning for the lives of others. And among the fact he was only ever outcasted in the first place by everybody ? I'm sure he felt some sort of revenge by reaping lives of the world that only ever did him wrong :( He probably viewed everybody as the same cold, heartless people he knew in his upbringing. He might've felt he had some sort of fucked up place in the Mafia, something he never had anywhere else.

He really wasn't ever taught... proper affection ? Innocent or sexual, all he ever knew was his father's behavior towards women, which wasn't good at all. When he snapped and murdered prostitutes, he might have seen it as a fresh start to something he ruined, behavior he may have learned from his father and the murder of his previous lovers. Violence was also VERY much a norm for him at this point in his life.

He was literally abused and humiliated so much he learned to get off on it sexually. The only thing Franco perceived of what sex was, was his erection being smashed painfully into a cold floor. He didn't know soft or gentle caresses. And because of his lack of a mother, he searches for a maternal figure within a sexual partner. Its like his line between a mother and a partner is blurred because those two relationships became one and the same in his mind. Its not that he views HIS actual mother as a sexual thing, I think its similar to like daddy issues ? How women tend to look for the care they never got from their father in older men they date. Its a complex, a symptom of neglect. I think franco desperately wants that motherly love he never got in the form of a lover, but he's definitely gone crazy along the way and it's become a deranged version of it from the things he was forced to endure :(

Franco's brain was also most likely SEVERELY damaged when his father beat him after the whole Angelina thing. I mean, have you seen his head in the game ??? I'm sure he looked relatively normal before that. I think it was his dad's doing that made his head all red and infected how it is. He was literally beat within the inch of his life, he almost died. I can only imagine he suffered from brain damage, head trauma, skull fractures, various infections, loss of hearing, sight, loss of teeth, etc. This probably made his messed up way of thinking even more messed up.

Then, he was exiled further by his father, physically this time, when he sent him off to Cuba. He killed even more people there and was practically on warfront. War is known to cause PTSD and stuff and other mental illnesses for a lot of people that unfortunately have to go through it. So even though Franco was already mentally damaged beyond any repair, he went through front line raids against revolutionary forces.

Then, yk, Murkoff got a hold of him eventually and I'm sure they did their fair share of whatever experiments they did on him. Placing him in the trials, putting his father's name on signs, and even naming the boat in his map after Angelina. It's like they made him relive all of his worst memories in a large box.

Anyhow, those are my Franco rambles. I feel like he's genuinely such a complex character that endured so much and it's just like. He's fucked up for a reason. It's not an excuse for the things he did in the game, but its a society vs. man thing with him. He had such a horrible life and a horrendous upbringing and I can't even imagine the agony his life was. Just thinking about the things he was subjected to and the way his mind was shaped so early on is so heartbreaking. Makes me wish I could've been there for baby Franco, if he had the proper love he never would've turned out the way he had 🙁 Red barrels really does have a way of making me feel bad for all of their characters. Most of them are just so unbelievably tragic.

[gojoonsaturn]

Let's talk about love?

pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem reader

wc: 1992

a/n: When Satoru Gojo appeared at your doorstep with two little children five years ago, you were stunned. The smug, cheeky and selfish Gojo, who was a narcissist (in fact, there are many other adjectives that could be used to describe him), decided to take care of other people's children. At first, you were skeptical, but over time, the four of you became close, and they have become an integral part of your life.

warnings: dialogues, because i love them; fluff, a bit angst, mentioning the death of the reader's parents, grumpy Megumi, cute Tsumiki, loving Satoru, you are parents of Fushiguro! and something more that you'll find (yes, i hate writing warnings)

english is not my first language, nor even second, so there may be mistakes, but i really spent a lot of time proofreading and improving my works.

“What is love?”

Tsumiki was lying next to you late at night, you were reading books together, and at some point, the girl put hers aside and turned to you with a question.

“Love? It depends on the type of love you are talking about. For example, we both love to read, so in that case, love could be seen as a hobby. It’s about enjoying the process of getting lost in another world and getting to know the characters. Or you love Megumi, that’s a different kind of love - a love for a family member.”

“Or how you and Gojo love us, right?”

“That’s right.” You nodded and smiled at Tsumiki.

“And what about the love between two people?”

“Ugh, that’s more complicated, I think. I guess it’s like a friendship that takes on a special level.”

“And how to distinguish a strong friendship from love?”

“Well…” You said, scratching your head and thinking about it. Tsumiki gave you some time to gather your thoughts and waited silently for you to continue the conversation. “I think that, apart from the emotional connection, love is mostly based on physical interactions. When you hug, kiss, or do even more intimate things, it creates a strong bond between you. It’s like there’s something inside us that makes us feel special when we’re with the person we love.

“Like butterflies fluttering in our stomachs?” Fushiguro suggested.

“Yeah, that’s right!”

“And how do you understand that a person loves you, and not just friends with you?”

“I guess it’s hard to tell sometimes, but I think it’s important to listen to your heart. If you feel a strong connection and a deep love for someone, then that’s probably how they feel about you too. To be honest, I’m not sure. People say that if someone loves you, they want to be close to you. When they’re laughing, they’ll look at you. Sometimes, you look at people in love, especially if they try to hide their feelings. They might act awkwardly, but it’s still fun to watch. Of course, caring is also important. Friends care for you, but when you’re in love... It’s a deeper level of caring you feel instinctively. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Not yet, but I think I’ll figure it out in time, don’t you think?”

“Of course! You have your whole life ahead of you. You will definitely find someone who will bring you true love.”

“And you? Have you ever been in love?” Miki asked thoughtfully.

You sighed and fell silent.

“Probably, yes.” You said after a brief pause.

“Is it Gojo?” Tsumiki jumped up and approached you.

“What makes you think so?” You frowned and tried to hide your smile.

“I think he’s in love with you!”

“Miki, unfortunately, love isn’t always mutual. Sometimes, one person loves another, but the other doesn’t feel the same way.”

“You don’t like Gojo?!”

“No, I like him as a friend. Like your dad.” You made air quotes. “I like him as a sorcerer. He’s incredibly powerful, and during our studies, he helped me more than once with my techniques. But sometimes, he can be unbearable!”

Tsumiki laughed and looked at you with a barely suppressed smile on her face.

After a few weeks of busy schedule and constant work, Gojo and you had a few days off. Satoru suggested everyone go to Okinawa, and the children happily accepted, while you seemed slightly tense.

“Is something wrong?” Satoru asked casually.

You rubbed your forehead and forced a smile.

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s actually a good idea. We’ve all been working hard lately, so it would be good to take a break.”

The next day, the four of you boarded the plane and waited for takeoff. You tried to avoid looking out the window, instead of listening to music with your eyes closed. Suddenly, you felt a gentle touch on your arm and opened one eye to see Megumi encouragingly smiling at you. He winked, quickly realizing that you were scared of flying. You smiled gratefully at him and intertwined your fingers with his, closing your eyes again. This time, the fear inside you partially eased.

Once you arrived in Okinawa, you checked into the hotel and headed to the beach. While the children played in the water, you read a book, with Satoru resting on your lap. Gojo lay there, sipping a cocktail.

“Are you okay?” You asked, putting down the book and sensing that he was lost in thought.

“Yes, it’s just a place…” He got up from your lap and sat next to you, watching Miki and Megumi play in the sea. “By the way, I noticed Fushiguro comforting you during the flight… You never mentioned that you were afraid of flying.”

“I don’t think that’s information that needs to be shared.” You scratched your forehead.

“Why not?”

“My parents died in a plane crash.” You overcame the lump in your throat and managed to say the words in a calm tone. “I was 8.”

Gojo took a deep breath and moved closer to you.

“Do you understand that it’s okay to grieve? You don’t have to act like an adult and pretend that you’re not worried about it.”

You felt tears welling up and buried your face in your knees. When you thought the tears had stopped, you looked up to see Satoru smiling softly. You wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come, so you simply looked at him.

“I’m so grateful to have you. I guess for me, you are the family that I have never had.” You said, and Satoru took your hand and kissed the back of your palm.

Miki watched this interaction and smiled at herself.

A couple of hours later, Satoru was playing in the sea with the children. He picked Tsumiki up on his shoulders and chased after Megumi, who was splashing water at him. As you watched this scene, you felt all the tension in your body melt away. Against the backdrop of the setting sun, Satoru and the joy of the children brought a sense of calm to your heart. You stood up from the deck chair and walked towards the group. Megumi ran towards you and hid behind you from Gojo and Miki. You waved your hand, and a small wave washed over Satoru and Tsumiki, causing both of them to squeal.

“That’s not fair!” Satoru removed Tsumiki from around his neck and pouted, crossing his arms over his chest in a show of displeasure.

“Come on, it’s fun!” You patted the guy’s head as you approached him, brushing the sand from his shoulders.

After a few minutes, you noticed that the children were starting to get tired. You led them to their rooms, tucked them into bed and decided to return to the beach for the sunset.

As the sun was setting, Gojo took you to the sea. The water was quite cool, but Gojo’s warmth kept you comfortable. Satoru refused to let go of your hand until you were up to your chest in the water. The sun had nearly set when the man pulled you towards him and gently kissed your lips. He felt you both needed it, but was still afraid you would push him away. Instead, you snuggled closer and returned the kiss with equal intensity.

The next morning, the four of you were sitting at breakfast. Your smiles were subtle, but Tsumiki noticed something had changed. Gojo was rambling, and you smiled at every word he said. Later, at the beach, you were all playing in the water. Satoru kept touching you, and you responded eagerly.

“Something has changed between them.” Miki said to her brother, as they relaxed on the deck chairs, watching you sit by the sea.

“What do you mean?” Megumi replied, frowning in confusion.

“Their smiles, their touches... they weren’t like they were before.” The girl said with confidence.

Fushiguro turned his gaze towards his parents and looked at them for a long time. Previously, you avoided unnecessary touching, but now you were sitting with your shoulders leaning against each other and your back relaxed, while Gojo’s hand was still holding onto your waist. Megumi watched this, not noticing how you and Gojo approached him.

“Would you like to try riding a banana-boat?” Satoru suggested.

“A banana?” Fushiguro was still lost in his thoughts, so he didn’t immediately understand what the guy was talking about.

“Or we could look for a kiwi or a watermelon!” Gojo said and laughed.

Megumi rolled his eyes at the joke, but you laughed loudly and put your hand on his shoulder. Miki looked at her brother pointedly, but he turned away, muttering something under his breath in displeasure. You noticed it quickly and took your hand away from Satoru, stopping your smile.

“Why don’t you go first, just the two of you, then Megs and I?” You said, raising your eyebrows and pointing at the boy.

Gojo immediately understood what was going on and took Tsumiki on the water attraction.

“Is everything okay?” You plopped down on the blanket next to Megumi and gently nudged him on the shoulder.

“You and Gojo are together now?” The boy deliberately emphasized the last word.

“I think so.” You realized it was pointless to hide it from him, so you decided to just admit it.

“I see.” Megumi tried to avoid eye contact with you.

“Is something wrong?” You placed your hand on Fushiguro’s shoulder.

“I just thought that... Gojo is not good enough for you.”

“Wow!” You even pulled away from Megumi and frowned. “It seemed to me that everyone should decide for themselves who is suitable for them and who is not. Besides, you know, sometimes you can’t control love. Your body reacts to a person physically, while your brain isn’t even aware of it.”

Megumi turned to you and saw a smile on your face. He could tell from the look in your eyes that you were partly in your thoughts and probably thinking about Gojo.

“Do you really love him?”

“I’ve known him for five years. During that time, he has been by my side 80% of the time and has always supported me. I think what I feel for him could be described as love. I don’t know what he feels, but I feel comfortable with him. In general, I am calm around you. You are like a family to me, which I have never had before.

Megumi went through a complex thought process in his head. After thinking for a while, he nodded to himself.

“Where is your banana-boat?”

The next morning, Megumi knocked on Gojo’s door. After a long wait, Satoru opened it, but he seemed annoyed and wanted to slam it in Megumi’s face. The man quickly left the room and closed the door firmly behind him.

“Has something happened?” Gojo asked, rubbing his eyes to wake himself up.

“Do you love her?” Fushiguro asked suddenly, taking Satoru by surprise.

“Yes, I have loved her since she came to Tokyo Jujutsu High.” Gojo answered.

He realized that he did not want to deny his feelings and confessed immediately.

“It’s good that you weren’t hesitant. But if she gets hurt because of you, I will kill you.” Megumi replied.

If Gojo had heard this from another nine-year-old boy, he might have laughed and patted him on the cheek. But looking at the serious expression on Fushiguro’s face, he didn’t move a muscle and simply nodded in agreement. The man knelt down in front of Megumi and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Listen, Megumi, she is not going to suffer because of me or because of anything else. I promise you."

“What is it?” You mumbled sleepily, pulling Satoru back to bed.

“It’s just that... The staff wanted to check if we need any extra cleaning.”

You smiled through your sleep and hugged Gojo, pulling him closer to you.