#and its staged. they throw the dinner at the same time. this is something they thought out and talked about

[theonlyadawong]

reading people reviews of home movie and either im a genius and im the only one in the world who understands this movie or im an idiot and everyone else understood the movie and i didnt

[sixosix]

YOU MUST LIKE ME FOR ME | LYNEY

notes wc 3.5k, for readers keeping up with the updates as they come, it’s been a while since the last update! so for the sake of understanding this chapter, please reread the previous one !!

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You were starting to regret ever opening your mouth and letting Aether blackmail you into helping him. Maybe if you had insisted on cooking dinner and Rosalie took over the counter, none of this would’ve happened. But what’s happened has happened—and you have a feeling that you would’ve ended up here regardless because fate hated you.

Lyney emerges from the shadows, sliding into the spotlight as if he was born for it. Meant to be there in the middle of the stage with all eyes on him and nowhere else. He has his arms spread wide open, fully welcoming the elated whispers of the audience.

“Welcome, one and all, to Lyney and Lynette’s magic show!”

His voice echoes throughout the opera house, nearly drowned out by the roaring cheers that follow after. Lyney then grins, bowing with half of his body.

The way he moves across the stage—it’s hard to imagine it’s the same guy who stumbled over his steps to make you notice him. It seems like the roles have reversed. Now, the audience is watching each move with bated breath, on the edge of their seats, watching him.

“Please, let me also welcome my sister and my assistant, Lynette!”

Lynette steps onto the stage, her tail flicking at the noises. You swear you heard a kid whisper wildly to his mother that it was a part-cat human, maman! Why is Mr. Lyney not also one if they are siblings, maman?

Lyney may not have the ears and tail, but you remember the way his eyes followed you around like a cat tracking its prey, seconds away from pouncing. He resembled a cat more than Lynette at times.

“Hello,” Lynette says to the crowd and leaves it at that. The crowd loves it anyway.

Lyney grins. Something about it feels so different. He was cute as a kid, but now, with all teeth and sparkling eyes, he’s like a dream far out of reach.

“Are you okay?” Aether whispers. You almost jump out of your seat, breaking from the trance. “If you keep digging your nails in like that, you might rip the dress.”

“Ah.” You haven’t even realized. “Don’t worry about it. First-show jitters or something.”

“You’re not the one performing?”

“Or something.” you insist. Aether laughs under his breath and, thankfully, leaves it.

Back when you were at the House, Lyney could only do simple tricks. Plucking cards from his sleeves or hiding them in between his fingers. He was clumsy with making cards float, revealing doves from his hat, and producing flowers in a snap.

It seems to come from second nature for him this time. He flicks his hand, and a beautiful Lumidouce Bell materializes on his palm. Lyney throws it to the crowd; it lands by your feet.

“Wow, that was so cool!” Paimon gasps as you move to pick it up.

You remember now. This was the only flower Lyney used for his tricks, as they come in bundles when found. Often after dinner, Lyney would perform to practice for the other orphans, and it ended with a mess of these flowers scattered across the ground or left unattended by their beds after presenting it to them.

“Hold on,” Paimon says, “Is he looking at us? Did we miss something?”

Lyney is definitely looking in your direction. He has fallen silent, frowning. You start wishing that he is staring, not because he recognizes you but because you’re drop-dead gorgeous or something.

“Y/N?” Lyney says, his soft voice loud in the pin-drop silent auditorium.

Well.

“Mr. Lyney?” One of his assistants on stage asks. “What’s wrong?”

The crowd starts to murmur; then their fervent whispers grow in volume until everyone is talking loudly. Another accident? Mr. Lyney looks terrified! Aghast! Meanwhile, Lyney stays frozen in his spot; he doesn’t look like he’s breathing. It was the same look he gave you that night. Maybe his face hasn’t changed that much, after all.

“Lyney?” Lynette asks from the side of the stage, her face poking out. Then she follows his gaze, and her eyes widen as well. That’s when you knew—

“Shit,” you mutter, clutching the flower and springing up from your seat. You can’t have this happen while an audience is watching. That would totally ruin the whole point of laying low.

It was definitely not because you’re drop-dead gorgeous, but the fact that he still recognizes you has to mean something, right? Something that you don’t want to think about at the moment. You hurry to the exit, ignoring the dirty looks you get as you brush past.

“Did that girl do something?”

“Where are the gardes?! She must have done something to make Mr. Lyney chase after her’”

Seriously? You cast a glance, and Lyney’s scrambling down the stage, his assistants yelling after him and demanding for an explanation.

“Wait, no!” Lyney exclaims in response to the audience reluctantly getting up from their seats and reaching out to you. “Ah— Not to worry, everyone! I just have personal matters to attend to. Please, just stay—”

Idiot, you want to scream, it’s not so personal if you’re chasing after me in front of all of them!

The Melusine guarding the entrance seems oblivious to the ruckus inside. She blinks up at your haste and asks, “Is the show over?”

You say, “I have an emergency. Uhm—I, uh.”

Her face turns serious. She nods. “I see.”

“What— what are you thinking? it’s—” Your ears pick up on Lyney’s steps, and you wisely decide that it is not the time to save face. You give the Melusine a wave. “Thank you!”

You take a swift, sharp turn once you’ve reached the end of the stairs, stumbling into a dead end, and you don’t get very far.

You wonder if Aether and Paimon chased after you or if they’d pretend not to know you for the sake of the mission. If you die, you hope they would at least still pay you for compensation, and the money would go to Rosalie. Or maybe she would be enraged when she finds out you’re a Fatuus and doesn’t take it. Maybe your story of deceiving Rosalie would make her customers flourish, buying flowers to disguise the intent of asking about the liar residing in her home for years.

“Caught you,” Lyney whispers, his firm grip around your waist. The rushing water is noisy, but his voice is clear to your ears.

Hearing his voice up close is a problem. “Whoever you think I am, you’re mistaken!”

“Then why did you run?”

“You—” You had that look on your face I didn’t want to see again “—I forgot to lock my door. I don’t want my house to be robbed. Which might be occurring at this moment the longer you have me like this.”

Lyney laughs. It sounds like music that has haunted you for years—and with a new one playing, it’ll torment you for years more. He loosens his grip but keeps you caged in, still. You’re twirled around to face him, and something about his expression has you swallowing thickly.

“You’re even more stunning than I remember, ma chérie.”

Your face burns. “Thanks, but I don’t even know who you… ugh, stop looking at me like that…” Lyney’s smile, looking so fond, doesn’t falter in the slightest as if he expects that you would say that word for word.

“You think I’d mistake someone else for you? You’re the only one who runs from me like this,” he murmurs. His gaze feels heavy. 

“Mr. Lyney,” you sigh and turn away. You can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye when he says shit like that.  “Please. I didn’t show my face around anymore for a reason. A good reason.”

“I don’t trust your judgment to believe that.”

“Don’t talk as if you know me. We’ve been apart longer than we’ve been together.”

“Still, your words are as hurtful as ever,” Lyney says with a sad smile. You stiffen when he cups your cheek and touches you, his gloves rough on your skin. “You’re alive.”

You scowl. “Have you such little faith in me? How many times have I beaten you again?”

Lyney laughs again. Somehow, this is much worse than him killing you on sight. 

Lynette appears in your line of sight from behind Lyney, with Aether and Paimon trailing after her. Her steps are slow. Aether has that expression on his face that says, don’t react!

Luckily, Lyney takes your hitch of breath as embarrassment at having witnesses. He tears away but promptly reaches for your wrist as if a leash for a dog. You tug, but nothing happens. For someone who looks so delicate, he has quite the strength.

“Hello, Traveler, Paimon,” he says pleasantly. “Sorry to interrupt your show.”

Aether shakes his head. “I just wondered if something went wrong.”

Does this not look wrong enough for him? You hurl him a blank stare.

Lyney follows Aether’s gaze and glowers. He jerks you to his side and stares at Aether pointedly. Aether looks at you, confused. You don’t know what the fuck is going on either.

“I didn’t know you were familiar with Y/N,” Lyney observes coldly.

“I don’t,” Aether says easily. “I came out here to see if you were okay.”

Still, Lyney doesn’t loosen his grip.

“Y/N,” Lynette says. She interrupts whatever dick-measuring contest is brewing with a small smile on her face. “You’re here.”

“I am,” you wheeze out, still trapped in Lyney’s arms. It’s a little difficult to be anywhere else with your current predicament.

Lynette clears her throat, giving her brother a look. You recognize that one—it’s the one she uses when Lyney is embarrassing her and would give him a stern word about it later. Lyney grumbles and sets you free.

“Traveler, I have something to say to you,” Lyney says, his chin high and his stare cool.

“Alright,” Aether says, brows furrowed. He casts you a glance that Lyney watches carefully. “Come on, Paimon.”

Lynette fixes your sleeves as the boys leave for somewhere more secluded. You follow them until their silhouettes disappear. “How have you been?” she asks.

“I’ve just been in the low, but I’m doing fine,” you say, feeling a little shy. Lynette has grown up as nicely as her brother. Her hair is tied up now; you remember that Lyney used to beg for Lynette to use the hairclips he’s bought, but Lynette insists she doesn’t like them. You offered her a hair tie that day. “It’s been really stressful and all that. Sorry to ruin your show.”

“Don’t worry about that. Or them. You’re here—that’s the most important thing on Lyney’s mind at the moment,” she says, and at the face you’re making, she adds: “And you can’t tell me I’m wrong. You know I’m not.”

“Haha.” You don’t know what to say to that.

Lynette hums. “Are you carrying out missions?”

You start thinking about the danger of confessing to present-fatuis that you are no longer one. As much as you trust them, you don’t trust they hold you to the same level. They have complete faith and loyalty towards The Knave, which you abandoned long ago. The orphans’ trust ran deep, and no one—not even you—could fuck with it.

You nod. “Yes, which is why I’ve been too busy. I’m— you see, I work for Lord Tartaglia now.”

Lynette looks stunned, speechless. Lyney has words to say, though, coming back at the perfect time. You take a peek at Aether, but it seems that he hasn’t followed Lyney back.

Lyney hurries to your side. “Master Childe? Is that why you’re here? We saw him around yesterday… Was it yesterday?” He turns to his sister, who nods.

Just your luck. Of all the Harbingers you thought of, it’s the one currently in Fontaine.

You’re losing confidence, and you hope it doesn’t show on your face. You used to look at the orphans in the House of the Hearth and think that you can beat them easily, without a sweat—right now, it feels as if they’re miles from your reach.

“Is this where Mr. Lyney went?” you hear from afar. “Perhaps they went back to the city!”

Lyney and Lynette’s faces turn exasperated. Lyney drags you further to the corner of the wall, and Lynette has her eyes peeled, scanning the path that leads here.

“Listen, I have to go. I can’t stay here for long.” They report everything to her; you know that well enough. “The— ‘Father’ already knows I’m here, so there’s no need to talk about me.”

Lyney stares at you for a moment too long. “Why?”

You wrack your head for something the twins wouldn’t be able to push. “I’m ashamed to see Father while I’m like this. After our fight, she had to transfer me. My pride and all that, you know?” You put on a timid expression. “Please don’t push.”

It works seamlessly. Lyney’s face falls. “Are you going to run from us again?”

“She might make me leave if she finds out I was talking to you.”

Lyney looks angry. “I’ll make sure she won't.”

“Don’t push,” you remind him softly. You’re a little stunned that he’s going this far. “I thought you hated me.”

“I could never hate you to the point of letting you slip from my grasp again.”

Hmm. That’s a strange way of phrasing it.

Before you can look into it anymore, Lyney takes your hand. “You said to me my loyalty is my worth. Well, by that logic, I’m nothing but valuable to you.”

“…Right,” you murmur, facing away from him and turning to Lynette for help, but she’s looking off to the side as well, still watching out for any gardes, yet her ears are pointed here. “I know that.”

“Y/N?” Lyney’s smiling when he forces your attention on him once more.

“Hm? What?” You need to look for Aether fast. Maybe tell him of the events that transpired and convince him that this was a terrible idea and Aether can arrest Lyney for all you care.

You do care. That’s the whole reason you’re doing this in the first place.

“I’m happy to see you,” he says.

“...I’ll see you around, Miss Lynette and Mr. Lyney.”

It wasn’t difficult to look for Aether and Paimon. You found them easily because you wanted to go there yourself: Hotel Debord.

Paimon’s wolfing down a plate of cake while Aether idly sips on his drink. Aether notices you first, waving you over. You find it strange that as soon as you pad over, Aether gestures to the stairs. You three climb up and find a place at the furthest table in the far corner.

“Lyney performs here sometimes, I heard,” Aether says as you settle in on a seat.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t strike this place with a surprise one while we’re on the most conspicuous seat,” you grumble. Paimon hands you her drink as comfort.

“I’d say that was a success,” Aether says, grinning. “Heartfelt reunion and rekindled feelings— I’ve never seen Lyney like that.”

“Like what?” Remembering Aether’s fixation on insisting on a blossoming relationship between you and the man you can’t even look in the eye, you immediately say, “Never mind. I don’t care. I ruined the plan.”

Aether laughs. “You didn’t, trust me. I learned something valuable today.”

You sip on the teacup. It’s Fonta, and it’s as unbearably sweet as the look in Lyney’s eyes as he talked to you. You’ve had enough of that for today.

“You can never hide it in your face when you care for someone,” Aether continues.

“You have that look on your face,” you say suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you’re also going to blackmail Lyney?”

“What? Of course not. That’s what I blackmailed you for.”

You snort. “And the Outlander reveals his true colors. You seriously still don’t believe me?”

“I still don’t have the information I want to have,” Aether reminds, stealing a piece of Paimon’s cake. She grumbles but doesn’t say anything else. She’s surprisingly compliant when there’s a plate before her. “That’s what you’re also here for, remember?”

“I don’t know, Aether,” you lament, sinking into your seat. “It feels like I made everything harder for me. “Do you still not trust them?”

“I think I blew it, too,” Aether laughs sheepishly. “I don’t think Lyney trusts me anymore.”

Paimon snorts, then quiets down when Aether shoots her a look.

“What did you and Lyney talk about?”

“It was a bit weird,” Aether confesses, then blushes at his drink. “I think Lyney was threatening me. He told me he saw me with someone by an alley.” At your confused look, Aether clarifies, “Doing something scandalous, I mean.”

You never thought Aether was the type, but that’s none of your business.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Aether sighs. “Of course I wasn’t up to anything of that sort. I’m still figuring out what he meant by that.”

“Maybe it’s a metaphor,” you say.

But Lyney doesn’t go lying about things like that. He may have a roundabout way of talking when he’s feeling playful, but ruining someone’s reputation is far too serious for that. And Aether never told you that Lyney was hostile around him—none of this just makes sense.

“All I remember was…” Aether’s gaze cuts down to your waist, and then he falls silent.

You frown. “Aether?”

Aether sighs. “I blew it. It’s up to you now.”

“Do you still see them as a threat?” you ask.

“It’s not that I see them as a threat. It’s just that… if they’re an obstacle I have to overcome between me and my sister, then I will do what it takes.”

Of course, you’re still stuck handling a pair of identical siblings. You could never understand the bond between them, but you have to admit, it’s interesting to see two sides of twins. One still together and one apart.

“Oh, right. Hold on,” Aether mutters, swiping a hand in the air. You watch in fascination as a bag materializes on his lap. He draws out a letter. “Lyney wanted me to give this to you, too.”

You read the contents. Aether asks, “What is it? A love letter? Does it have hearts drawn on it?”

“Stop that,” you say. “It has an address, no hearts.”

Aether gasps. Even Paimon pauses from her feast. “An address,” they chorus.

“It says meet me tomorrow.”

Aether hums. “Maybe this isn’t turning out so bad.”

Lyney’s soft expression flashes in your mind—the flower, the arm around your waist, ma chérie— Seriously, who told him it was alright to go around seducing women like that? You groan, your face falling into your palms. You both blew it. Maybe Paimon has a better chance of retrieving information than either of you.

“You must’ve really liked the Fonta,” Aether says, gesturing to your empty cup. “Want another one?”

You don’t hesitate before saying yes.

The flower Lyney threw you has already wilted by the time you return to the flower shop. It’s past midnight, yet there is still a dim light washing over from outside. You spot Rosalie seated by the chair behind the counter, her posture straightening as the bell chimes.

“You’re back!” She grins, though her eyes look heavy and a little red. She must’ve been sleeping deeply.

“Rosalie,” you greet, a little fond, a little exasperated, “did you wait for me?”

“I told that Outlander boy to bring you home before ten,” she huffs, ambling over to you. She pats your dress and sighs dreamily. “Did you enjoy Mr. Lyney’s show?”

There was no show to begin with. “Yes. I did. It was splendid. Cut a bit too short, though.”

“Were you chosen as a participant?” she asks, hopeful.

“No,” you say, laughing a little. Although Mr. Lyney did chase after me. You wonder what kind of face Rosalie would make if you told her that. She wouldn’t be able to sleep if you did; you’re sparing her quite nicely.

Rosalie smiles. You like her smile; it’s all soft and fond, and she’s always smiling, leaving smile lines on her face. If you got caught earlier and she found out about your true past, would she still smile at you like that? “You should get some sleep. You look tired.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re so cute, mon ange. You look like you’re glowing!” Rosalie squeals, pulling you in for a hug that smothered your face on her neck. “You should go out more often!”

“Glowing?” Rosalie’s hug has your words come out all fucked up. “If anything, I’m drained— maman, your hair is getting on my mouth, please. And I still want to work here, okay? Don’t kick me out so suddenly.”

Rosalie’s frozen, her smile wiped off her face. You look up and blink at her curiously. “Rosalie?” you ask.

She stammers, “Oh—ah, it’s nothing. I just thought— Oh, you’re right. I’m tired, too. Don’t stay out so late next time if you don’t want my face having eyebags!”

As much as you hate to admit it, seeing Lyney and Lynette did feel a bit nice.

notes !!! new chapter yay :D lmk what u think !!

akagi back at it again with giving us bangers like its NOTHING. look at this scene of lyney recognizing reader in the audience!! the details... aughhh + THE EXTRA ART IS SO FUNNY

PLUS PLUS LOOK AT AKAGIS ART OF LITTLE LYNEY AND GROWN UP LYNEY AAAHHH

TAGLIST.

@thenyxsky @aeferkssr @1mewo1 @lacrimae-lotos @meigalaxy @hyacinth-daze @miwafei @popochakku @svasilios @heyhazelnut101 @kruinka @waveto-earth @superstar-ethereal @mxplesyrvp @achilleas-dream @episodecete @jellifizz @auranny @motherscrustytoenailclippings @iawaaaaaaa @rionah @cherryig @kzhwaif @mystiquemare @unknownlololol @sanluvssu @blvdmrcnry @kascar-chronicle @idontevenknow129 @tarathecogsci

[embersofhope-if]

"On the 25th anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes that who would represent it."

Twenty-five years have passed since the rebellion, yet the price is still being paid by the Districts. Even though most people alive today had no part in the fight, they suffer the consequences of the Capitol's anger. The harsh reality of the Capitol's cruelty is revealed every year on July 4th, Reaping Day. On this day, two children from each of the 12 districts are randomly chosen to fight to the death in an arena until only a lone victor remains. Parents hold their children close and hope it isn't their child who will be ripped away from them, knowing that there is nothing they can do to stop it.

However, this year is different. This year marks the very first Quarter Quell, and parents don't have to worry about whether their children might be taken away because, for this once-in-a-lifetime event, they get to choose who goes into the arena. But there's no doubt in anyone's mind who's going in when the mayor has a child of his own - me.

Now it's my turn to play a true game of life or death. May the odds be ever in my favor

Demo ☆ Playlist ☆ Pinterest

Customize your appearance (hair type and color, complexion, height, build, clothing)

Choose how you interact with the Capitol and those of your District

Form new relationships and change the ones you already have

Train in the weapon of your choice yes including a bow

Try not to die<3

17+. Content warnings for graphic violence, child death, child abuse/neglect, starvation, murder

Creon Levesque ♤ The Mentor ♤ RO ♤ 19

A special friend in very special places. I met Creon when you were 12 years old at a dinner party my Uncle Keyon had brought me to in the Capitol. Maybe it was the fact that I was very obviously District or maybe it was something else entirely, but from that night forward, Creon and I have had an intense and strange relationship. And now they stand before me assuring me that with them as a mentor, everything will be alright. How they managed to get themselves as a mentor they won't tell me, but honestly, in the end, does it matter?

♤Creon is gender selectable by the player♤

Romance Route: Red flag of all red flags, forbidden love, different worlds, insta love (at least on Creons part)

Aurelius/Aurelia Weaver ♧ The District Partner ♧ RO ♧ 18

My district partner. I don't know them that well, especially after they dropped out of school at 16 to work full-time in the factories. I'm not entirely sure what I did to them to warrant the looks of pure disgust and anger they throw my way after that, but now things have changed. They asked to be the other tribute for District 8, and now standing in front of them and looking into their eyes, all I can see is a predator looking at its prey. They are going to kill me, and they're going to enjoy it.

♧ Aurel is always the opposite gender of Mc ♧

Romance Route: Enemies to Lovers, Doomed Love, potential unrequited love, perhaps unrequited but actually requited love😏

Asher "Ash" Fairchild ♡ The Childhood Bestfriend ♡ 16

Ash was the first and only real friend I've had my entire life. They were practically the embodiment of everything good in the world. Everyone loved Ash, and when they had their name called for the 23rd reaping the shock and sorrow was felt throughout the entire District. Even walking up to the stage, they moved like a petal dancing through the wind. Their memory has haunted me every day for the past two years, and now I get to experience the same terror they felt in their final moments.

♡ There will be an option to be in a relationship with Ash before their games. Ash is also gender selectable by the player ♡

Romance Route: First love, childhood friends to lovers, soulmates

Soren Vesper ◇ The Mayor ◇ 46

The mayor of District 8, and my Father. A very stern man who prefers things to be done his way. I've never seen his mask of the harsh mayor who does everything the Capitol request ever break, that is until the announcement of the Quarter Quell. The change happened so fast that it scared me. A once mighty man who didn't care about the people of his district now begging them to choose anyone but his child to go into the games. At least I get to know my Father does care for me before I die.

Tribute and Other Profiles TBA

☆This is my second IF my main one is @shadowsofthegun-if if anyone is interested in being a goofy little cowboy and i have another IF @dustandshadows-if set in the world of the shadowhunter chronicles if anyone is interested in that as well. @konosadmaru is also my main if anyone wants to follow me on there☆

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

we had a chef MC headcanon, now how about M6 when MC made them a meal but it tasted just downright horrible and MC is just kinda oblivious to it, asking M6 with the brightest, most innocent smile "Do you like it?"

i hope you have fun writing this if you do choose this humble request

- 🌼

The Arcana HCs: When MC is a terrible chef

~ this reminds me of the time when teenaged me combined old rice, hot dog chunks, cold broccoli, and buffalo sauce (in one bowl!) for a late-night snack. thank you for the giggles this gave me, yellow flower friend, let's hope I pay them forward! - brainrot ~

-- to set the scene --

Somehow it's been one of those weeks when everything in your food supply begins to reach its end or expiration date at the same time. You know your regular grocery shopping is tomorrow, and you have an extensive list prepared, but dinner is up to you tonight and you don't have anything comprehensive planned. It looks like it's time for your famous "everything but the kitchen sink" stew. You've only made this in the past when it was just you in the shop and you were still figuring out how to cook, but you remember it being fairly edible.

(Continued below the cut)

You get some beans boiling (there hasn't been time to soak them), add a cup or two of vinegar to soften them faster, dice the not-molded parts of a tomato and onion you found at the bottom of a sack, and rinse the slime off of some wilted greens before throwing them in. You're craving something spicy, so you dump in the rest of your chili sauce, but when the steam makes you tear up you scrape out the rest of the mayonnaise to even it out. It was starting to smell funky anyways. Your hand slips when you add the salt, so you pour in some honey to counteract it, and in a final burst of inspiration, you plop in two bananas that have gotten too mushy to eat. The signature suspicious scum of your original dish is just floating to the top of your soup when your beloved returns, hungry from a day of work.

Julian

Too happy to see you to notice the poison on the stove at first

The words die in his throat when he does. Tell him it's a potion. Tell him it's a curse. Tell him it's a prank. Don't tell him, don't tell him it's ... it's dinner, isn't it?

He watches you happily ladle a generous scoop of your curdled concoction into his bowl and gulps. He loves you. He's got this. He will eat your food, he will tell you it's delicious, or he will die trying

He's starting to get caught up in the poetry of it as he sits down across from you. Like a lamb to the slaughter, accepting the sweet taste of death from his beloved's cruel hand - stew isn't supposed to be sweet, oh god why is it sweet

But for his darling's delight, he will overcome -

"Julian, is everything alright? You look like you're about to go on stage."

"Oh, is ah - is that what I look like, my dear?" He's pale and sweating at this point, poorly disguising the tremble in his hand as he brings his second glass of water to his lips

"It's my stew, isn't it?" you dolefully lift a gelatinous spoonful and watch it fall back into your bowl with a sickening squelch. "I remember it tasting weird, but not this weird ..."

"No, no!" His voice cracks against his will as he sees your sadness as proof of his failure. "It's delightful, delicious - worthy of the gods, even." You hear him mumble a prayer for forgiveness under his breath and drop your spoon

"I know when you're acting, Julian."

"Ah, so I - so I am. You know -" he stands abruptly, his chair falling behind him in his haste. "I just remembered that Pasha invited us for dinner tonight. Shall we?"

He's never been so happy to see you walk out his front door

Asra

They can smell it as soon as they walk into the shop and are immediately concerned. That is the smell of death. Why is the smell of death in your shop oh no - "MC? MC, where are you?"

"I'm upstairs!" Thank the patrons, you're okay

Then again, maybe you're not, considering how perfectly comfortable you seem standing over whatever monstrosity is releasing toxic vapors into the atmosphere. Is that ... soup?

Color him intrigued. He's doing his best to hide a laugh and find a way to ask what enabled you to create something so terrifying out of simple kitchen ingredients without insulting you

"So, is this recipe an MC original?"

"Yep!" You smile at him cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to the stomach-churning way that the chunks plop from the soup spoon into their bowl. "I always make this when we're running low."

"You've made this before?" They're starting to get concerned again

"Just a few times, when you were on a trip. Do you like it?"

He takes a bite, so intrigued by the way it seems to wriggle down his throat that he tries a second. "I've never had anything like it."

"What do you think of the mayonnaise? It smelled a little funky ..."

We have mayonnaise? They wonder, but on the outside they're still smiling. "It certainly adds to the experience. Is this ... banana?"

"Yeah, it seemed too mushy to eat on its own, so ..."

Asra sets down his miraculously empty bowl with a loving smile. "MC, you shouldn't have to do the cooking so often. Let me help out more often."

Nadia

She doesn't know how it's come to this. Nobody knows how it's come to this, when the Palace kitchen is kept fully stocked and there are chefs available at all hours

But you had said that you missed your home cooking, and she had given you full access to the backup kitchen to do as you pleased, and - ah, the only things kept in there are leftovers

That would explain the stench

Speaking of, her respect for your resilience has reached new heights. How you've been able to survive on your own is a mystery to her. Please tell her this isn't how you ate for three years -

But you seem as deathly serious as the radioactive sludge that's churning in her fine china like a lava lamp, and she realizes that this is going to be a labor of love. She must eat her fill and do so with elegance

You watch her bring the daintiest (read: tiniest) spoon of slime to her lips, pausing to test the aroma before setting her jaw and putting it in her mouth

Oh, look at that, she's already eaten her fill

"MC, my darling, what do you say to an evening walk? It seems I haven't the appetite to dine at this moment, how about a stroll around the palace gardens? The night is still young."

She's relieved at how easily you agree, deeply concerned by the fact that you've already finished half of your bowl, and eager to get you out of the palace so that the maids can make dinner disappear

She's going to lose sleep for the next three months about whether or not she should be honest about what happened to your soup

There's now a bald patch in the grass behind the kitchen that hasn't been able to grow anything in three years. There's a rumor that stepping on it will release a stench so foul that you won't be able to eat for twenty-four hours afterwards

Muriel

He's not too worried. He used to eat spoiled food out of the trash heaps all the time as a kid, he's sure he remembers how

But he's a little surprised that said rotting food is being actively cooked. By you. Seemingly in a choice made of your own free will

He wasn't expecting ... this, but a quick glance around the hut makes it clear to him that nothing terrible has happened, that you seem perfectly sane, and that you don't think anything's wrong

Well, you seem to trust your cooking, and he certainly trusts you, so ...

He side eyes Inanna's dramatic performance of whimpering and pawing at her nose, eventually turning to let her back out of the hut as you serve your bowls with a smile

He takes a glance at his serving as you dig in. Asra still talks about the time he ate a whole chili pepper without flinching - he can do this. He picks up his spoon, scoops up a jiggling chunk, and eats

You're a little surprised at how quickly his bowl disappears. You're not really enjoying your food yourself, but you're not going to judge his strange enthusiasm

"Muriel? If you're still hungry, there's more on the fire ..."

"I'm fine." He's getting out of his habit of depriving food of himself, but in this case, refusing to eat is a personal kindness

He drinks several glasses of water while you finish your dinner, asking you about your day and trying not to grimace at every silent burp that pulls the aftertaste back into his mouth

Inanna buries the rest after the two of you go to bed. Nobody knows how she managed it without opposable thumbs, but everything is possible for a wolf desperate to preserve her nose

Portia

Her brother might be an award-winning actor, but her flair for the dramatic only goes as far as silly little bits designed to make people laugh and pretending that she isn't about to punch somebody

She is a woman who knows her mind, her heart, her strength, and her limits. This is a limit, and she is doing her best to pass it

You can tell right away that she doesn't want to eat what you've made. You've never seen her smile look so uncomfortably tight, and you certainly didn't miss the way her stomach heaved when she leaned over the pot to take a closer look at your creation

But she's insistent on going through with your evening, even steering you towards the kitchen table and serving the bowls herself. She tries so very hard to mask the look of revulsion on her face when different chunks of stew jiggle at different frequencies

She places your bowls on the table and lifts her spoon, waiting for you to take the first bite in the hopes that your eyes will be opened and you'll insist on eating something else

No such luck. You're two spoonfuls in, so in the spirit of keeping an open mind, she loads up her utensil and shoves it in her mouth

You weren't expecting to be sprayed by the choke that seizes her, but sitting across from her puts you in the splatter zone and you're quick to give her your napkin and ask if she's okay

She nods weakly, looking slightly green. "MC," she says, "you are definitely stronger than I imagined." She takes another look at the gelatinous blobs on her table. "Stronger than you need to be."

She dusts off her hands and practically drags you out of the cottage. "Let's eat out tonight! My treat. And I just had the best idea for our next date night - we should take cooking lessons together!"

Lucio

He notices Mercedes and Melchior acting up on the way back to your campsite, but doesn't have any idea why until he gets a whiff and - oh, that is nasty

Some kind of skunk jacked up on magic must have done that, never fear, MC! He's here to save the day now - what do you mean that's dinner? That is not dinner. Dinner is not supposed to smell like that

He's not sparing a second to consider manners or acting. Lucio calls it like he sees it, and all he sees is poison

"MC, do we have to? It smells so bad, look at it MC, just loo - bleugh - no I'm not being dramatic! The smell made me gag for real, watch!"

And he leans over the pot again, just to take a deep lungful and subsequently let out the most visceral gagging belch you've ever witnessed

"See? It's bad, it's really bad, and I don't want to eat it! Why are you being so mean to me, MC?"

To be honest, you're not particularly excited to eat it either, but it's all you've got until you make it to the next town tomorrow, so you tell him as much as his pout slowly deepens

"Fine, I'll do it. I guess it can't be that bad if you made it -" He watches the way it slops into his bowl and gulps. "I take it back."

Sure it's a little spicier and clumpier and saltier and sickly sweeter than you planned, but you're able to stomach it just fine

And to your surprise, Lucio can too. He complains loudly the whole time, but his whining somehow grants him the ability to eat three full bowls

"See, you ate so much of it!"

"Well of course!" he puffs out his chest proudly. "I'm the best. At least it's not as bad as what we had in the army. But - MC?" he looks at you with pleading eyes, "please don't make that again."

[ayeeedomino]

Ateez 9th member

Roux and her dates

Ryujin:

Roux and Ryujin were talking via SNS, about their tour plans and countries they will be in the future. The two have been to unofficial dates before, but never a formal one at that. Ryujin sent a a flirt message:

“Why don’t you come have dinner with me and then we talk more? 👀”

“Sure babe😉”

With that settled, at a Friday they met up in front of a famous trendy restaurant in Seoul. As the night went by, they got talking about their time together at JYP, their dreams and goals, and their personal life.

"You know, Jinnie, there's something I've been wanting to share with you. Ive been seeing your performances and I really admire your confidence on stage and how effortlessly you command attention. It's truly captivating, as if you cast a spell on them.”

"Wow, thanks babe. That means a lot coming from you, you’re gonna make me blush. Honestly, I've always been in hypnotized by your stage presence! You really evolved, it’s like a whole different girl from the one I met back then.”

"Thanks darling. It's not always easy, but when I'm up there, it's like I'm in my element. And being able to connect with fans through music, it's a feeling like no other. And the guys been helping me build my confidence. But what have you been up to in your rest days??”

Ryujin gives her little charming chuckle and proceeds saying; "In my rest days? Well, you know I like to rest at home, like binge watching some new tv show, listening to music, and cooking! You know is like a therapy for me!”

As Roux smiles, she throws a shot; “You know, next time you rest you can call me to cuddle, right?”

"Yeah, I will, it sounds nice. You know, you continue being fearless. You're not afraid to be you, and that's a rare quality.“

Roux looks into her eyes and says; "Thank you, but it’s not hard when I’m around you, you are captivating.”

Ryujin smiles and reaches to hold Roux hands; "You know, you mean a lot to me..and also,we could be a very hot pair…”

“I know right?..” as she giggles, they both continue enrolling through the night, wondering about what could be their future together…

Yves:

They don’t really know each other, but one day Roux sent a message complimenting Yves a story she posted. Yves replied complimenting her back and they started talking. A few weeks later Yves decided to invite her to a night out.

They first meet up at a trendy bar known for its lively atmosphere and creative cocktails. As they chat over drinks, they discover shared interests in music, fashion, and travel, sparking a sense of excitement for the night ahead.

After a few drinks, they move to a nearby club where they start dancing, they feel free. As they lose themselves in the music, dancing together with uninhibited joy and passion, their laughter blending seamlessly with the rhythm of the crowd.

As the night passes, they take breaks from dancing to share intimate conversations in quieter corners of the club, getting to know each other on a deeper level amidst the vibrant energy of the night.

"Roux, can I be honest with you for a moment?"

Roux smiles and says; "Of course, unnie. What's on your mind?"

After a deep breath she said; "I just want to say that I've really enjoyed getting to know you. There's something about your presence that's so captivating and genuine. I feel like I can be myself around you."

Roux blushes; "Thank you unnie. I feel the same way about you. It's rare to meet someone at first sight who understands you on such a deep level, you know?"

Yves nods; "Yeah, it is rare. But with you, it feels natural. I admire your strength and your passion for life. You have this inner light that shines so brightly, and it's impossible not to be drawn to it."

"Wow, thanks unnie. That means a lot to me. And you, there's a kindness in your eyes that speaks volumes. It's like you see the beauty in everyone and everything around you."

Yves looks away into the crowd before proceeding; "I try my best. But with you, it's easy. There's something about you that brings out the best in people. I feel like I can open up to you in ways I never thought possible."

Roux looks down to Yves hands, looks up where their eyes meet, and gently takes her hands; "I'm glad you feel that way. Even thought we only met personally today, I feel like I’ve known you for a long time."

As Yves squeezes her hands, she said; "Me too. I don't know what the future holds for us, but I do know that I want you to be a part of it. You've captivated me."

Roux leans very close to Yves, before whispering; "Then let's make the most of every moment we have together. Whatever the future may bring." before pulling her back to the dance floor.

As the early hours of the morning approach, they decide to call it a night, their hearts racing with adrenaline and their faces flushed with excitement. With promises to do it all again soon, Roux and Yves part ways, their spirits lifted by the unforgettable memories they've created together on this exhilarating date.

Giselle:

Giselle and Roux met back in 2020, when their schedules overlapped. Since then they kept talking and going out. Roux just called Giselle and asked her to come over.

They start by watching random tv shows, before watching the movie “Carol”. The movie is pretty intense, and made them cry at the end. As it ended they started discussing their favorite scenes, moments and critics of the movie. That lead to an intimate conversation.

“You know Roux, I really connect with you! We share similar struggles, issues, and moments. I feel you and I match.”

“I feel that way too! I guess we both dealt with bad comments from the media..”

“Yes! Talking about that, how are you dealing with that scandal? I mean, it’s bad enough to have people eyeing your personal life, but something so intimate as sexuality must be shit.”

“I mean, I guess I’m fine? Yeah it’s annoying, but that’s nothing really I can do? Dealing with this industry have so many problems, but also have me the ability to share my music, my passion, something so dear to me…and have so many supporters feels nice, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Feels nice to not feel alone.”

After a moment of quiet, she said:

“I don’t mean to be weird or make you uncomfortable, but is it true?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Oh, hope you don’t let anything bad get to your head, because you are a really amazing person, intelligent and gorgeous at that.”

“Oh stop you’ll make me blush.”

“You know, I’ve never really thought of myself being with a girl…I guess I never gave myself the time to really think. All of my life I just thought I had to like men, before I even stop to think what I really like..”

“Oh I know that feeling. I guess you just have to have some introspective moment with yourself, do you see yourself with a woman? With a man? Or both? Do you see yourself settling down with all of them? Or just one of them? Guess you should just really think, and don’t pressure yourself with it! Everyone have their own time!”

“Thanks….though I feel like I wouldn’t mind doing any of that with you…of course, slowly, but if you are open to it, I wouldn’t mind…”

As they cuddle together, they spent the rest of the night talking and just being comfortable with each other.

Yunjin:

This year 2024 Coachella happens to have both Le Sserafim and Ateez performing. What a better excuse to have more time together? First they meet backstage and go out to see other head liners. But at their day off they decided to go to an amusement park.

They arrive early, eager to beat the crowds and make the most of their time. Hand in hand, they start with the roller coasters, laughing and screaming as they race through loops and twists, adrenaline pumping through their veins.

Afterward, they explore the various attractions, from the dizzying heights of the Ferris wheel to the exhilarating drops of the Tower of Terror. With each ride, they bond over shared excitement and occasional nervousness, reassuring each other with comforting words and playful nudges.

As they stroll through the park, they indulge in classic carnival treats like cotton candy and funnel cakes, savoring the sweetness of the moment as they exchange stories and inside jokes.

Feeling adventurous, they challenge each other to games of skill and chance, determined to win each other stuffed animals as souvenirs of their unforgettable day.

As the sun sets and the park lights up with colorful displays, they find themselves on the carousel, riding side by side on majestic horses, feeling like carefree children lost in a whirlwind of joy and wonder.

As the night comes to a close, they share a quiet moment on a bench, watching the fireworks paint the sky with bursts of light and color. With hearts full of happiness and memories to last a lifetime, they share a tender kiss, grateful for the magic of their day at the amusement park.

"I've been thinking a lot lately about life, you know? A few years ago I thought I would just become a lawyer, but now I am here, traveling the world, seeing so many different cultures, exploring the world.”

“I get it, seeing all of this make you feel so accomplished."

“You know, whenever I’m with you, it’s like the world stops, the sounds fades, it’s just you and me.”

“That's exactly how I feel too. You just always manage to make so comfortable, so nice."

"And I love that. I love how we can just be ourselves with each other, no pretenses, no expectations."

"Me too. It's like we have this special connection that's just ours, you know?"

"Yeah, I do. And I never want to take it for granted.."

“I'm truly grateful for tonight. It was a cool way to rewind."

“You’re right.” With that they share an embrace watching the sun go down.

[archive245]

no thoughts empty head only the horsemens as a boyband

- will def gives drummer, said drums are prob white and red covered in random stickers

- michael def bassist and main vocals, guitar is def red

- kai keyboardist and vocals, keeps both keyboard and mic clean and minimalist, his in ears prob have a cross on them or something

- damon is like electric guitar, black definitely black, like a glossy black tho

- damons the type to have messy black eyeliner and a leather jacket yk the bad boy

- kais signature piece of jewelry are rings, wills is chains and necklaces

- very chase atlantic and arctic monkeys vibes

- kai never or barely uses social media, has like 20 posts at max and only posts band activities

- WILL ON THE OTHER HAND SPAMS POSTS LIKE HIS LIFR DEPENDS ON IT, funny picture of damon and michael? posted. rehearsal? posted. dinner at a local diner? posted? sexy selfie? posted. this man probably has like over 1000 posts

random scenario: fan throws bra on stage

michael: picks it up and while smirking say something suggestive

kai: doesnt say anything just see its smirks moves on

damon: like michael says something dirty and hangs the bra on his guitar

will: puts the bra on and does the rest of the performance with it on

- they all write and produce, but its a spectrum how quickly they brainstorm

- michael takes a average week to think of an idea for a beat and lyrics, damon and will randomly gets random creative brusts, kai consistently gets ideas but at random intervals

- designated spots on tour busses

- will is stage presence even tho hes near the back bc yk drums he has the ability to get the crowds attention, winks, flirts, blows kisses, the whole package

- damon tends to wonder the stage never ending on the same place he started when the songs over, walking closer to the crowd to flirt with them or walking back to flirt with the others ( will specifically)

- OR he tends to be very cold and intimidating not very flirty or interactive with every one, yet has a very strong aura that just catches ur attention

- kai pours his whole soul into singing, and even tho hes a sub vocals he tends have the most lines

- hes very tame when it comes to interacting with the crowd, like yes he will wink at them or flirt with them, but he isnt on the verge of making out with one of the fans like damon or will are. but eye contact

- michael is the one who throws water on the fans, the “are you ready??” and “lets go”. the fan hyper yk the one who makes the concert more fun

another random scenario: getting mobbed by paparazzi

michael: pissed and it shows on his face

kai: tries his best to be polite but about to smash the cameras

damon: decks them in the face (causes the group lots of criticism)

will: ditches the group and runs in the other direction

- it was was will idea to start the band, kai was coerced bc he was the only one who knew how to play an instrument (piano) at the time. and damon and michael joined to piss off their dads

- during interviews will has no media training and says random stuff, kai tries to damage control it like “haha no hes joking”

- michael survives off monster, on or off tour. kai prefers coffee, will red bull and damon water :D but he smokes a shit ton of cigarettes so it cancels out

- damon blatenly post spoilers on his socials, kai acc does this as well but not as obvious

- they have a tradition to have comebacks (I DONT KNOW THE NORMAL TERM FOR THIS I ONLY KNOW THE KPOP TERM I AM SORRY) on october 30

- lets be honest they all hook up with fans

[sukirichi]

okay long rant ahead !

“It filled him with a sense of achievement knowing he’d been the one to cause your undoing.” For rock bottom mental health too 😍

“The realization that he wasn’t desperate to be King anymore made him tighten his hold on you, his face buried at the crook of your neck. This was all he wanted now. To live the rest of his life like this – with you, in this home.” stop 😭😭😭

“That’s exactly why we should break up. I’m married, and I’m tired of being passed around between you brothers like I’m some sort of toy.” the only sensible thing iris has spoken so far. (also what passing around? bro literally only hooks up with rin)

“He looked and looked – and there you were. Then, her gaze flickered upwards to smirk at him – daring him, challenging him, to prove his words.” I am gonna throw up they are sick for this

“And when one was in love, one would forgive.” yes rin please exploit this as much as you can <3 wouldn’t expect anything less from you <33

“But then she came, and – and marriage is not so bad.” I KINDA WANNA CRY CAUSE the thought of what could have been, of something so loving and sweet kills me but 🥹

also the ending,,, the way I was anticipating it (and actually wanted it) but I just know Princess is not gonna take it easy. it’s like despite knowing everything, reader will be heartbroken considering they are still in love with him (idk how) + I feel reader felt better thinking that they would be the one asking for divorce instead of rin (not to mention the whole planning with omi) so him asking for that is a little out of syllabus.

rock bottom mental health 😭😭😭 no omg that next line, he was evil for that like wdym he’s changed his mind and is now hoping he can gallivant as a happy husband and even hoping he’d be a dad :( it’s like he forgets its not that easy, and a dinner date wouldn’t solve any of that. ABSKWLA iris saying she gets passed around is peak delulu because miss girl, kiyoomi does not want you AT ALL

that ball scene where he looked for reader !! the butterfly effect of it haunts me because in reader’s mind, she’s just doing what is expected of her and attending a royal ball. like it would have never crossed her mind that doing so would mean she’d become the victim and prey of a certain prince with ego issues </3 like what if she didn’t go? who would have suna targeted if not her? and to think she never even thought she might find love by attending that ball, and when he approached... she must’ve thought, “oh. so i could be loved, after all.” but none of it is real and he loved her too late 😭

and yes unfortunately at this stage, yn still loves him </3 that’s why she’s so hurt about this, because she loves him and she cares. i think it hurt her more because she’d planned to find ways to divorce rin long ago before the beach house scene, but she’d given him another chance and for him to suddenly say he wants to divorce and how its like he’s giving up . . . well its all very hard for her to process, but at the same time, i think its good that this is the worst it can be ! they’ve hit rock bottom, a dead end. it’s only yes or no from this point onward

[finkinthisfrew]

Anything (Pt.37)

Chapter 37 After a beautifully intimate dinner in the foliaged corner of an outdoor patio under strings and strings of fairy lights, and a leisurely walk along the charming city streets interspersed with over a dozen makeout sessions in whatever hidden corner we could find, Matty and I finally arrived at the evening's destination. As we walked up the brick street towards the bar, only an hour late (not bad for us!), I admired the charming glow of the multicoloured Christmas lights which framed its otherwise unassuming doorway.

As Matty pulled the door open for me, we were hit by the overwhelming sound of people yelling and laughing as a cheesy recording of Toto's 'Africa' blasted throughout the bar. As we entered the long room, which boasted even more of the same yellow, orange and red Christmas lights which cast a warm glow over the whole bar, along with strings of coloured pennants along the ceiling, we searched the tables for the rest of the band.

Suddenly, a familiar voice rang through the speakers, singing the opening line to 'Africa' along with the track which played. I stood for a second processing what was happening, then Matty and I turned to each other at the same time with identical looks of astonishment and realization. At that moment, I realized two things. First, that we were at a karaoke bar. And second, that the voice I recognized, the one currently crooning the lyrics to the second verse of 'Africa', was none other than my friend, my boyfriend's best friend, and the 1975's drummer, George Daniel's.

We rushed over to the small crowd which stood surrounding a tiny stage in the back corner of the bar, pushing through to get to the front, breaking through just as George began to belt:

"IT'S GONNA TAKE A LOT TO DRAG ME AWAYYY FROM YOUUUUTHERE'S NOTHING THAT A HUNDRED MEN OR MOOOORE COULD EVER DOOOO"

George's face lit up with joy as he saw us break into the front of the crowd. We screamed the lyrics along with him as I felt several arms wrap themselves around me. I turned to see Jamie, Ross and Polly throwing their arms around both of us, drunkenly happy to see us. We all danced and shouted and laughed together as George performed and waved his full pint of beer all over the stage, by the end of which was entirely empty.

Afterwards, once Matty and I had a full fresh pint of beer in our hands each, and George two, he slung his arms around our shoulders, sloshing beer everywhere as we walked towards a table near the middle of the bar where Adam, John and Gabrielle all sat, smiling up at us.

"I've missed you two," he said happily as one of the other bar patrons began to sing a song I didn't recognize, "Do you know how much I love you both?"

"I didn't take you for such a sop, George," I teased, overwhelmed by the candidness of his declaration. He looked down at me with a giant grin.

"And I didn't take you for a Brit," he rebutted. "You're definitely spending too much time with Matty- we must preserve your Canadian-ness," he said as he plopped down in an empty seat at the table.

"Oh?" I responded in question, pretending not to hear Matty's giggle as we both remembered what happened the last time Matty teased my new vocabulary... "And how do you suggest we do that?" I asked as Matty pulled out the seat next to George for me to sit in. I turned around and smiled at him in thanks. He leaned down to kiss me in return, then as he smiled back at me, lingered for a few moments, then winked at me. My stomach flip-flopped.

Once we broke eye contact, I watched Matty sit down beside me as I felt something large and heavy land in my lap. I looked down to see a giant tattered binder that read 'KARAOKE' in big black letters.

"I'm certain they've heard of Celine Dion at least once in Panama," George said with a cheeky smile.

"Ohhh, no no no, there's no way I'm going up there," I said as I tossed the binder back onto the table and crossed my arms. Everyone began to protest.

"Oh please, Anna!" Matty begged along with the rest of the table as his hand replaced the binder on my lap. I felt his skin through the sheer material of my dress. I subdued a shiver- somehow his touch still made my heart skip a beat.

"Guys, there's literally no way in hell I'm getting up there and singing in front of a group of literal rock stars- I can't sing," I said as I shook my head.

"Hey, that's not fair!" George protested, "Not all of us are rock stars! Ross just stands there and looks pretty."

We all burst into laughter, buzzing with happy energy as Ross shook his head disappointedly, trying to hide the smile on his face.

"But George is right," Matty said as everyone's laughs faded. "That actually isn't fair of Anna to say," he said looking at me as he spoke to the group, "She's a beautiful singer. She has the loveliest voice. She even plays a little guitar!"

I shot daggers at Matty as he bragged about me, but he just continued to smile.

"Oh don't be modest, darling!" he said with a little scowl. I opened my mouth to object but George interrupted me.

"No, it's true! I've heard a recording myself- she's got this little angelic voice!" George said as he reached out and pinched my cheek. I scowled at him as everyone at the table started to shout at me to sing. A minute later everyone was banging on the table rhythmically and chanting, 'A-nna, A-nna, A-nna!' over and over. I sunk into my seat and hid behind my hands in humiliation.

Matty rubbed my leg comfortingly, then squeezed my thigh to get my attention as he leaned in toward me.

"Sing me a song, darling," he asked with giant begging eyes, "Please?"

I melted at his pleading face. How could I say no? I sighed dramatically, then uncrossed my arms and stood up to talk to the MC to submit a song.

After I sat back down, we'd just finished our second round of drinks and were about to take the shots Ross had bought for the table when they called up my name to the stage. Everyone looked over at me, and without hesitating, I immediately downed my shot of tequila, then took George's out of his hand and downed his too. I hopped up from the table, ignoring George's complaints as I headed over to the stage. Everyone stood up with me and walked over to join the crowd as I stepped up on stage, not letting myself stop to think even once about what I was about to do for fear of bolting directly out the door and into the night.

As the intro of Frankie Valli's 'Can't Take My Eyes Off You' began to play, I looked into the small crowd in front of me and found the glow of my favourite pair of eyes looking up at me. I gravitated toward their warmth, Matty's smile soothing my nerves slightly. I took a deep breath and began to sing the verse to him, like we were the only ones in the room. The way he smiled up at me morphed my anxious nerves into excited ones- he was so absurdly handsome in the soft red glow of the room, I felt giddy just looking at him.

People in the crowd began to whoop and cheer and scream the horn line as the song ramped up. Finally, when the chorus hit, I belted it out as everyone in the crowd, as well as the rest of the bar, screamed the lyrics along with me. I happily watched as everyone danced below me, Matty and George hooking their arms through each other and prancing in circles as Ross twirled Polly, Hann and Gabrielle and John doing the can-can. As terrifying as it was, it was exhilarating, and I loved every moment of it.

When the song finished and I finally stepped off stage, what felt like a million hands clasped around me, my knees buckling from their weight. I couldn't hold back my giddiness, laughing as I fell. Everyone helped me up, then praised me, showering me with compliments and pumping me up as another bar patron went up on stage.

As we all began to head back to our table, the crowd parted, and like in a movie, I saw Matty standing there, waiting patiently for me. He stepped over to me in two quick strides before picking me up in his arms and spinning me around, but I didn't notice any of it. All I could focus on was the way he beamed up at me as he spun me in the air, smiling at me so proudly, his eyes shining bright with joy. As he set me down, he pulled me in to kiss me, pressing his pride into my lips over and over, making me giggle as he did.

"My little rockstar," he said in my ear just to me as we finally pulled apart, looking down at me with a cheeky smile. He took my hand to lead me back to our table, squeezing it tightly as we walked. "You were brilliant," he said as he pulled out my chair for me. I thanked him with scarlet cheeks, overwhelmed. As I sat down, he pulled out his own chair and tucked it right up against mine, as close to me as possible, then put his arm around me pulling me in close against him.

"I feel like I finally understand what it's like for our fans when I look at them on stage," he turned to me as the rest of the table returned to their own conversations. "I thought I was about to melt into a puddle every time you looked at me up there," he said, trailing his finger along my thigh as he spoke. He looked down at my lap before adding quietly, "I could've sworn I was the only man in the room and you were singing just to me."

"I was," I replied honestly. Matty looked up at me with wide eyes, and his face broke into another huge smile, making my heart flutter all over again.

"Well that's a disappointment, I thought that was all for me," I heard George say as he leaned into me on my other side, grinning cheekily at me.

The three of us laughed and fell into conversation about karaoke songs, discussing the best and worst possible choices. We had just been laughing about the thought of someone performing 'Tequila' by The Champs, when Matty announced he was going to the bathroom.

"Would you like another?" Matty asked, gesturing at my empty pint glass.

"Yes please," I nodded. He pointed at George with raised eyebrows and he nodded as well.

"I'll grab us another round on my way back," he said. He kissed my cheek sweetly and stood up. Then, as if reading my mind how I already missed the way his leg pressed up against mine and the way his arm wrapped around me like a warm blanket, he leaned down to my ear and whispered, "I'll be quick, I promise. I miss you already," before pressing one more kiss onto my temple and shooting me a little smile and a wink before disappearing into the thick of strangers.

"I just wanted to say... Thank you again for coming, Anna," I heard George say to me. I turned to find his face earnestly looking at me as he placed his hand on my arm in thanks. "I really mean it. I know you know how much it means to him, but you'll never know how much it means to me. So thank you."

I looked into his eyes and noticed how they didn't light up all the way- how something dark lingered in behind his appreciation. I could tell there was more to this, but I wasn't sure how to approach it.

"I would do anything for Matty," I said. I meant it, and I knew George knew that too. He smiled at me when I said this, squeezing my arm as I opened my mouth, pausing with hesitation. I didn't want to pry too much, but something told me George would be open to it.

"I get the feeling that there's more to this," I began tentatively, "than what either of you have told me..." I left the sentence open-ended in the hopes of George filling in the blanks for me. He looked down at his nearly empty pint before downing the rest, then wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and took a deep breath.

"Did Matty ever tell you about Steph?" he asked looking back at me.

My heart stopped. I knew Matty must have had plenty of exes, and I wasn't stupid enough to think I was the only love of his life, but to hear a name... Something about it felt too real, too threatening. I didn't like it, but I pushed my jealousy aside and shook my head, more concerned with what George had to say next.

"They weren't together for very long- maybe five, six months tops? They had a bit of a whirlwind romance. I remember he was careful at first. He tried to go slow, but the more time they spent together, the faster he fell. They had everything in common, and she was positive and optimistic, like a little ray of sunshine amidst the self-identity crisis that had been brewing within Matty over the years prior. He was so drawn to her- she seemed tailor-made for her."

I swallowed the lump that grew in my throat and tried to relax my stomach as it tensed up. I mostly failed. George continued.

"I was always weary about her- I didn't like her, and I couldn't figure out why," George said, and I had to try very hard not to let my smugness at this show. "Eventually, it all fell apart and began to make sense... Turns out she was tailor-made for him- she had lied about everything. When they first met, she pretended she didn't know who he was but it turns out she was a super fan- she'd figured out the places he frequented and staged their whole first meeting. She knew everything about him and used it all to make herself seem like his dream girl- yeah, I know, it was foul," George said, looking at my jaw which dropped open in shock. A moment ago I was jealous of this girl, but now, I felt nothing but pure hatred.

"It got even worse," George continued. "Matty found out she had been sending screenshots of their conversations to her friends. She also took all these pictures and videos of him without his knowledge or permission and would send those along, as well as the ones he'd taken that he thought were just for the two of them. I think she also was spending his money on clothes and shit for herself and her friends. I remember he flew a couple of her friends out for some shows and they went on some crazy shopping spree with his card. I don't think Matty cared that much about that, but I was fuming about it because I'm pretty certain they didn't ask beforehand..."

"That is so awful..." I said in disbelief as I shook my head.

"Yeah, it was mental. The breakup was big and messy and it really fucked Matty up for a long time... He'd already been having these identity and trust struggles outside of the relationship beforehand, and he'd been flirting with escapism with drinking and other things... but after he found out about Steph's charade, that's when he really fell apart," George explained. "I was really worried he was going to go in that direction again when we left London- I hadn't seen him so distraught since that breakup," George said, before shrugging to himself and adding, "But he seems to be doing great again, now that you're here."

"And you think that's because of me?" I asked tentatively.

George pondered thoughtfully.

"Yes," he answered bluntly. "I mean, he's a grown man and he's more than capable of taking care of himself, but the bloke's been through the wringer- it's not his fault he crumbles when the good things in his life disappear. It's like this," George turned to me fully, using his arms to explain, "His highs are so high- much higher than what a normal person would experience. But his lows are so much lower because of that, and I think he's still learning how to cope with that. Because at the end of the day, as popular as he is, he's just a normal bloke. I mean, he's not- the man's mad," George smiled cheekily as he propped his elbow on the back of his chair and rested his head in his hand, "But he's just a guy. And if you take anything from any of this, it should be that the way he feels about you... Look, I can't speak for Matty, but I know him better than anyone and I've seen what he's been through, and of all the highs I've seen him at... you're his highest. Easily."

I looked at George wide-eyed, stunned. He smiled at me kindly before taking hold of the Song Book and rifling through its pages, leaving me to my thoughts.

I sat in silent reflection as I processed everything George had just told me. It really started to sink in just what Matty had to deal with, and why we had the connection we had. It was wild to think how two people who'd gone through their own versions of hell, who were given every reason to lose hope and become distrustful and jaded about love, could trust one another so easily. Trusting Matty felt like breathing. It was effortless. And knowing how he'd gone through all of that and still treated me with so much care and affection... I always knew what we had was special, but it wasn't until now that it really hit me.

Without thinking twice, I stood up from the table and turned to find the bar. I pushed my way through groups of people and emerged to find Matty's back, standing patiently as the bartender poured a pitcher of beer in front of him.

I came up behind him, placing my hands on his waist, then wrapped my arms around him and squeezed him tightly. I felt him turn back to see who the hands belonged to, his body relaxing as he realized they were mine. He placed his hands on my arms, loosening my tight grip just enough to let him turn around in my embrace. Before he even finished turning to face me fully, I reached up on my tip toes and kissed him ferociously. I felt his shock at my urgency, which dissipated quickly as he sunk into me. His arms enveloped me as he kissed me harder, matching my level of passion. We kissed like we were alone. It felt like we were, even amidst the crowded bar which buzzed with drunk and happy people. But no one was happier than me. No one. It was almost too much.

"I love you so much," I said emphatically as we parted.

Matty smiled at me curiously as he took my hand in his, our fingers interlacing.

"I love you too, my darling," he said sweetly, cocking his head to one side, but I shook my head. He raised his eyebrow in question.

"No. I love you greedily, incessantly, naturally, necessarily, urgently, easily... I've never felt love like this before. I don't think anyone has ever felt love like ours," I said, my intensity registering with Matty as his face morphed into something more serious. 

He slowly nodded his head in understanding as his eyes looked back and forth between mine. His mouth tensed slightly and I saw his chest shake slightly as he inhaled deeply.

"Sometimes, not often, but sometimes I worry that maybe I'm the only one who feels this way..." he said as he looked down at our hands. "That maybe we're both in love, but that this feeling I feel- this intensity, this overwhelming, other-worldly love I feel- that maybe I'm the only one who feels this way," he said. His eyes returned to mine, sparking as he saw me shaking my head.

"I think it's safe to assume that whatever you're feeling," I said to him as I let go of his hand and wrapped my arms back around him, "I feel ten-fold."

Matty smiled back at me, then bit his lip and shook his head before responding. 

"Only if you assume the same with me- except make it a hundred-fold," he winked cheekily as he pulled me in for a hug.

His hands wrapped around me, his strong arms enveloping me. I tucked myself into his chest, breathing his comforting scent in as I tightened my hold.

"Can we go?" I asked Matty quietly.

He did a double-take, certain he misheard my quiet words in the loudness of the room.

"You were right," I continued as I looked up at him. "I don't want to do anything but lay in bed with you all night..."

His eyes melted at this and he smiled at me in adoration.

Instead of telling me 'I told you so' as I deserved, he kissed me gently on the forehead, then whispered in my ear, "Whatever you like, my darling," before taking my hand and walking us out the door and into the warm summer night.

[ethereal-feline]

I woke up about an hour ago with this idea in my head now y'all get to hear it too.

I've seen the opinion Furina shouldn't have been forced to cross her boundary of not wanting to be on stage/act anymore for obvious reasons, so what if instead of Furina filling in she hastily suggests the Traveler does(no it will not matter if its Aether, just roll with it).

Traveler accepts, maybe hesitantly, but Furina's lines in this version would give us the options of "gladly doing it" and some unhinged "alright but I expect a reward" for a response.

Cue whatever quick time events or rhythm game as gameplay to rehearse, with Furina coaching, maybe a couple little fetch quests for props or costumes. Meanwhile, everyone backstage are all happy one way or another to see Furina after however long its been since they've seen her. Like, some seemed genuinely worried for her well being and are relieved. Others are just total fans and maybe that's why the fetch quests exist, like they got so caught up working with Lady Furina they forgot a thing or an important prop.

Anyways, time for Traveler's big moment! The lights dim save for one shining on the Traveler. Players are probably gearing up for more quick time/rhythm gameplay but then....we go to Furina, backstage. She closes her eyes, reminiscing when she used to actually enjoy performances, which allows the scene to transition to the canon cutscene.

She hears the applause and for a brief moment she smiles, genuinely. But the applause is for the Traveler. Furina looks a bit sad, but everyone backstage who saw her also applaud. Its a smaller audience, but Furina still smiles.

The end goes rather the same, Furina getting that name drop credit, but this time the Traveler can say something like "Archon or not, they're still happy to see you."

What about Furina's Vision? Well maybe, after Furina still resolves to return to acting and performing on stage, we get a moment at her apartment where she finds it waiting. Maybe among some other gifts or something, but its there. Similar lines about it, but maybe Neuvillette was also trying to respect her boundaries and didn't want to make a big splash about it. After all, it is the first Vision he's giving as the Hydro Dragon Sovereign and seeing how he still respects and adores Furina, there might as well be a handwritten note saying "I hope you like this gift, you deserve it for all the hard work, hugs and kisses, mwah" lol.

Then the Traveler probably has dinner at Furina's. Spoiler alert, its macaroni, since either she did say she would treat us(the Traveler) if we accepted(gladly) or she's sassy about us not specifically saying what the reward should have been.

And end quest!

Probably not a new thought but I'm throwing my hat in the ring. Take it or leave it!

[niallerspayno]

Faking It - Chapter Thirteen

Masterlist

Author's note: light smut incoming

The tension in your shoulders begins to ease the moment the car turns onto the gravel driveway, winding its way toward a secluded cabin nestled between towering trees. Liam had insisted on arranging this getaway, surprising you with the plans just a day after the press conference.

“You deserve a break,” he’d said with a soft smile, his hand brushing yours as he explained. “We both do. Just us. No cameras, no fans, no management.”

And now, here you are.

The cabin is quaint and cozy, its wooden exterior blending perfectly with the autumnal forest around it. There’s a small porch with two rocking chairs and a view of the sparkling lake just a short walk away. It’s the kind of place that feels worlds away from the chaos of your everyday lives.

Liam hops out of the car, circling around to grab your bag from the trunk before you can protest. “Come on,” he says, his voice light, “you’re not lifting a finger this weekend. My treat.”

You roll your eyes but smile. “I didn’t know you were so old-fashioned.”

He winks, slinging the strap of your bag over his shoulder. “Only when it suits me.”

Inside, the cabin is even cozier than it looked from the outside. A fireplace takes center stage in the living room, with a pile of freshly chopped wood stacked neatly nearby. There’s a soft, oversized couch draped with a knitted throw, and the scent of cedar lingers in the air.

“You like it?” Liam asks, his voice tinged with nervousness as he sets your bag down in the corner.

“It’s perfect,” you reply, meaning it. The peace and quiet are exactly what you both need.

The hours pass lazily. You unpack, explore the property a little, and Liam even lights a fire in the evening as the temperature dips. By the time dinner rolls around—a simple meal you both cook together—you’re already feeling more at ease than you have in weeks.

After dinner, the two of you settle on the couch, a bottle of wine between you. The flames crackle softly in the fireplace, casting a warm glow across the room.

Liam leans back, his arm stretched along the top of the couch, and you catch him watching you as you sip your glass.

“What?” you ask, setting it down on the coffee table.

He shrugs, a small, playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Nothing. Just… it’s nice seeing you relaxed for once. You’ve had so much on your plate lately.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “You too, you know. You’re always carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

He tilts his head, his smile fading into something softer, more vulnerable. “Not when I’m with you.”

The words hang in the air, heavier than either of you expected, but neither of you looks away. There’s a quiet intensity in his gaze, and your heart skips a beat as the reality of the moment sinks in.

“Liam…” you start, but he cuts you off with a small shake of his head.

“No, let me say this.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I know this whole thing—us—has been… messy. Complicated. And I don’t blame you if it’s overwhelming sometimes. But I don’t regret a second of it. Not the lie, not the press, not even the chaos.”

Your chest tightens as his words sink in.

“Because at the end of the day,” he continues, his voice steady, “it’s brought me here. With you. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

You swallow hard, unable to find the words to respond. Instead, you reach out, your fingers brushing against his, and he takes your hand in his, his thumb running soothing circles over your skin.

The warmth of the fire crackles softly in the hearth, its amber glow casting flickering shadows that dance across the room. Liam’s hand is steady in yours, his thumb tracing those same, soothing circles against your skin. There’s a kind of quiet intimacy in the air, one that makes the rest of the world feel far away—just the two of you, wrapped in a bubble of safety and calm.

His gaze hasn’t left yours, and it’s not the wine making your heart race now—it’s him. The way he’s looking at you, like you’re the only thing that matters. You try to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks, but it’s impossible under the weight of his quiet focus.

“You’re really something, you know that?” His voice is soft, barely above a whisper, but it carries.

You manage a nervous laugh, shaking your head. “I think you’ve had too much wine.”

He smirks, leaning closer, his breath warm against your face. “I think you don’t give yourself enough credit.”

The air between you shifts, growing heavier, more charged. His free hand moves slowly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. The callouses on his fingertips are gentle as they graze your cheek, his touch lingering just long enough to make your pulse quicken.

“Liam…” Your voice comes out quieter than you intended, almost trembling.

You tilt your face toward him, your breath catching as the space between you disappears. His lips meet yours with a tenderness that makes your chest ache. It’s slow at first, almost hesitant, but when you don’t pull away, it deepens.

The kiss is everything at once—soft yet electric, tentative yet full of unspoken emotion. His hand cradles your face while the other slides to your waist, pulling you closer. You can feel the heat radiating from his skin, the way his heart beats just a little faster beneath your touch.

You kiss him back with everything you’ve been holding in, your fingers tangling in his shirt as if anchoring yourself to this moment. The firelight flickers against your closed eyelids, the faint crackle and pop of the flames the only sound besides the quiet rhythm of your breathing.

When he finally pulls back, it’s only enough to rest his forehead against yours, both of you catching your breath. His hand is still on your face, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth as he stares at you, his expression unguarded and full of something that makes your stomach flip.

Liam’s lips crash against yours again, with a hunger that feels both urgent and uncontainable, yet deeply tender. His hands frame your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as if grounding himself in the moment. The kiss deepens, a slow burn turning into a wildfire, and you feel yourself unraveling under his touch.

The world around you disappears—the soft crackle of the fire, the gentle hum of the wind outside, all fading into the background. The only thing that matters is Liam: his steady presence, the heat radiating from his body, and the way his lips move against yours with a purpose that steals your breath.

His hands begin to roam, sliding down the curve of your neck, over your shoulders, and along your sides, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. When his fingers slip under the hem of your sweater, his touch against your bare skin makes you shiver, and he pauses for the briefest moment.

“Are you okay?” he murmurs, his voice thick with both passion and concern, his forehead resting against yours.

You nod, your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him closer. “More than okay,” you whisper, your voice steady despite the frantic beat of your heart.

Something shifts in him then, a quiet kind of reverence softening his expression. He tugs your sweater up, his hands brushing your ribs as he lifts it over your head. The fabric falls forgotten to the floor, and his gaze sweeps over you, dark and intense.

“You’re stunning,” he says, his voice barely audible, like the words are meant only for you.

Your breath hitches, your skin heating under his gaze, but before you can respond, his lips are on you again. This time, they’re softer, more deliberate, as though he’s savoring every inch of you. His kisses trail down your neck, lingering at your collarbone, before moving lower. The sensation sends a rush of warmth pooling in your stomach, and your fingers clutch at his shoulders, pulling him even closer.

Your hands explore him, gliding over the planes of his back, the taut muscles flexing under your touch. When you push at the hem of his shirt, he leans back just enough to pull it off, the firelight casting golden shadows over his chest and arms. You take a moment to drink him in, your fingertips tracing the lines of his body, and the quiet groan that escapes his lips at your touch makes your pulse race.

His hands slide to your waist, his thumbs brushing the bare skin of your hips. “I’ve waited so long for this,” he confesses, his voice low and raw, his eyes meeting yours.

“Me too,” you admit, your voice trembling with emotion.

He lowers himself back down, his body pressing against yours, and the heat of his skin against yours is electrifying. His lips find yours again, but this time the kiss is slower, deeper, carrying with it every unspoken feeling the two of you have held back for years.

When his hands move to the waistband of your jeans, he pauses, his gaze searching yours for permission. You give a small nod, and he exhales a shaky breath before helping you out of them. The firelight dances across your skin, and his eyes trace every curve of your body as though committing it to memory.

“You’re incredible,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder, then your chest, his lips trailing lower with each word.

Your hands find his waistband, and the small, teasing smile that tugs at his lips when you fumble with the button sends a spark of amusement cutting through the intensity. “Impatient, are we?” he teases, his voice laced with affection.

“Years of waiting,” you shoot back breathlessly, and he laughs softly, the sound low and warm as he helps you rid him of the last barriers between you.

When he finally presses against you, your bodies perfectly aligned, the sensation is overwhelming. The fire crackles in the background, the glow casting golden highlights in his hair as he looks down at you. His hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

“Tell me if you need me to stop,” he whispers, his voice so gentle it brings a lump to your throat.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you reply, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

The first touch is exquisite, every nerve ending in your body igniting at once. He moves slowly at first, his lips finding yours again as you both adjust to the intensity of the moment. Every movement is deliberate, filled with a kind of tenderness that has your heart aching.

Your hands clutch at his back, your nails lightly digging into his skin as his name falls from your lips, a soft plea that seems to shatter whatever restraint he had left. He kisses you deeply, his movements growing more urgent, more desperate, and the sound of his ragged breathing against your ear only fans the flames between you.

The night stretches on in a haze of passion and raw emotion. When you finally collapse together, tangled in each other’s arms, the fire has died down to embers, but the warmth between you lingers. He presses a kiss to your forehead, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

You smile up at him, your fingers tracing lazy patterns along his chest. “And you’re mine,” you reply softly, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

The look in his eyes steals your breath—a mix of awe, relief, and something deeper that makes your heart stutter. He leans down to kiss you again, slow and tender, before pulling you into his arms. The two of you fall asleep like that, tangled together on the rug, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into the most peaceful sleep you’ve had in years.

Next chapter

[madaboutmunson]

Again - Part 11

Part 1 | Part 10 | Part 12 | Full list of Again series links

Steddie fic where Steve and Eddie are in their mid 30's and everyone has sort of drifted apart

Taglist: @adaed5 @grtwdsmwhr @swimmingbirdrunningrock @mightbeasleep, @jewellthebooknerd

================================================

Sunday rolls around much too quickly for Steve's liking. Honestly, he knows summer is coming to a close and other than being whined for the last few days about Zee having her own cell phone, he was really going to miss it once it was over. Sure, he'd get to see them again in a week, but it was just different out of term time. They were a little more carefree. They'd had a great few days, cooking together, playing video games, school shopping, and even some two-on-one basketball. Since Wednesday, Zee had called Morgan every day, only for ten minutes tops. Steve could manage the phone bill but didn't want to put Eddie or Jenny in an awkward situation where they couldn't do the same. Although curiously, Eddie hadn't called Steve at all, he got this weird message on his cell that had Eddie's name on it, but there were no words, just numbers and letters. 

He pulls up on Jenny and Val's driveway, and the kids and Beans rush out, leaving Steve to get the bags as usual. He bundles up what he can under his arms and walks up to knock on the door.

Steve had a key, but he always preferred to knock at the door out of some weird kind of respect. Jenny, short blonde hair in a chic bob, dressed in a loose flowing long summer dress, opens the door and blocks the kids, trying to get into the house without hugging her first. Squeezing each of them tightly, "Oh, I missed you, terrors" The kids make a break for the stairs, "Dinner will be ready in five minutes, so don't get too involved in anything. That means no computer games, Corey!" She shouts after them and turns a kind smile to Steve. "Come on in." She says enthusiastically, wrapping him in a big hug too. Then almost getting barrelled out of the way by the enormous furry projectile that was Beans. She beckons him to the kitchen and puts her finger to her lips, laughing. Steve obliged the silence but couldn't help but notice there was something different about Jenny. He's not sure exactly what it is, but it's familiar. She points through the kitchen door, and Steve peeks around the door to see Val in a chef's hat and apron, singing and dancing around the kitchen as he cooks. He nearly jumps out of his skin when Bean's wet nose prods at the back of his knee. Still, when he realises who it is, he beams in delight, "Oh Beanies! Memento", he says to the dog putting his hands together like he's praying. He walks to the fridge and breaks off a chunk of cheese, throwing it around his back into the air for Beans to catch, before returning to the stovetop, putting the newly strained linguine into the pan, and tossing its contents effortlessly in the air. Steve smiles and shakes his head, and looks back at Jenny. Her expression radiated the affection Steve had only seen in the early stages of relationships or at boy band concerts. She's looking at Val like he's the most marvellous creature in the universe, and he supposes to Jenny he was in the top three. For a second, Steve feels that pang of jealousy, the one he tells everyone else and himself he doesn't have when it comes to this situation, but it's much more complicated than jealousy. He doesn't want Jenny back as his wife or romantic partner. He doesn't want her to endure those strained times again. Most of it was great, but when it was terrible. When the dark clouds came for her, Steve couldn't stop them no matter how hard he tried, but Val could and can, and Steve wondered what that must feel like. Not just to be like that for someone else but to have someone like that for yourself. He was jealous that no one looked at him that way and that he had no one to look at that way. He was just not jealous enough to make it a bitter taste in his mouth.

"STEVEN!" Val exclaims, taking off his chef hat and apron revealing his jet black slicked back hair that curled up at the nape of his neck, some very tight Levi jeans and Ralph Lauren polo shirt. He makes a beeline for Steve, gripping his shoulders and kissing him on each cheek, "Sit, sit! Steven, please." he gestures at a chair at the table, and Steve smiles and obliges. No matter how many times he told Val that Steve was fine, he persisted with Steven, he said it commanded more respect and it felt better in his mouth when he said it. Valentino was pretty much impossible to refuse unless, of course, you wanted to offend the man. Steve is so grateful for him, there were a billion frogs out there and Jenny most definitely landed a Prince, which wasn’t just a bonus for her, but Steve too. He knew Valentino was great with the kids, and made Jenny so happy, which made everything so much easier. Val picks out a pile of dishes and deals them like playing cards around the table as Jenny sits in her usual seat at the head of the table.

"So Steve, I see Beans is here. Are you going somewhere?" Jenny asks, unfolding her napkin into her lap.

"I mean, I'm not sure yet, maybe. I figure I should do something with the last week of summer, right?" Steve says, being careful not to mention that he would probably spend most of that week waiting for Eddie to call if he would at all. He’d only brought Beans on the off chance maybe he and Eddie might go someplace together. Val stops mid-cutlery placement and lifts his head to Steve with slightly narrowed eyes, "You know, maybe a city break or something? Like I say, I don't know yet," Steve adds as a half-truth was better than a total lie. He stopped bringing up dates with Jenny and Val a long time ago, especially when they barely made it to the end of the first date before they were another loss on the tally. "What have you both been up to this week?"

"Well. Val got a promotion, which is really exciting. I've just been given a new team to bend to my will, I mean take care of," she laughs, "So things are going pretty good, I think you could say" Jenny looks over at Val, radiating happiness. Val turns and blows her a kiss as he brings around the pan to dish out the food, which smells divine. "Have the kids been alright?"

"Mackenzie went to her D&D club and made a new friend, who came by this week to play basketball. He wanted some help because his Dad said he's going to high school soon, so Corey and I practised with him, but honestly, he's a natural. I think he's gonna be okay." Val places a serving of linguine into Steve's dish and appears to be scanning his face for information.

"Oh, that's great. I'm glad you drove her out there; it made a world of difference. Though I suspect there might be a little crush developing there too." Jenny says with an adoring smile at the cuteness of it all, "Mac's first crush, huh? Wow, time is just going by so quickly" Steve nods in agreement, "And can I just say, Steve, how impressed I've been? I mean, I was certain the day this happened, you'd be a lot more upset about it."

Steve laughs. "I know me too. There have been a few moments where maybe I wasn't at my best, let's say, but I figure it's best not to meddle, you know? Just keep an eye on things, which is much easier when they aren't hiding anything from you." Steve clicks his fingers, remembering, "There was a hair incident with one of your old curling tongs. We sort of figured it out for now, but if you're taking them for usual haircuts before school, maybe get them to blend it in a little better than my hack job."

"Oh, christ! Sorry, Steve, I keep meaning to get my old stuff from yours!" Jenny says, wiping her hand down her face.

"No, it's fine. It's nice for the kids to have your stuff at mine too, in case they miss you, you know? But, er yeah, I might have lost my temper with those particular curling tongs, so they are now in the trash." Jenny grimaces, "Don't worry, Jen, I took them and my temper out to the garage." Jenny smiles, and Val raises his eyebrows at Steve as he brings his oversized pepper grinder around.

"KIDS!" Jenny yells through the door, and a thunder of feet and squabbling can be heard before Zee and Corey appear in the kitchen.

"Beans out, please," Steve says gently, and she obediently goes to sit in the hall.

Dinner conversation is mainly driven by the kids, and Steve sits quietly between Jenny and Zee, enjoying his food and the company. Several times throughout the dinner, Steve looks across the table to find Val staring at him like he's trying to unravel him. Each time Steve gives him a smile laced with a bit of concern and then goes back to eating.

"Say, kids, Val got a soft serve machine. We've set it up in the garage. Wanna help me grab some for all of us?" Jenny asks, a massive grin on her face like soft serve ice cream was the answer to all life's problems. Then like a ton of bricks, something hits Steve. His eyes dart to Val, wide-eyed in realisation, and the analysing stare he's had on Steve all evening drops and is replaced by one of alarm, and he puts a finger to his lips. Now it makes sense! He looks down at his plate, no seafood, no wine with dinner, how Jenny was positively glowing, why Val was dancing around the kitchen, why Jenny had been mooning over him in the door, and the last clue, the soft serve machine at home. So she could know exactly what went into it. Steve silently, but his face is loud with communication, points a finger at Val behind the backs of Jenny and the kids as they leave.

Val gets up and rushes to the door to close it, and pins himself against the back of it, his hands at his chest, fingertips pinched together, "Please, Steven, don't be angry", he whispers.

Steve gets out of his chair and approaches him, "Angry? Why would I be angry? This is wonderful! Congratulations!" Steve whisper shouts, pulling him in for a hug, and he feels Valentino begin to weep against his shoulder.

"J-Jenny, she said not to say. She said it was too soon, and it is early, very early, Steven, so we aren't telling the k-kids yet," Val manages to say through his tears muffled into Steve's shirt. Steve pulls back, holds him happily by his shoulders, and beams at the blubbering mess before him.

"Oh Val, I know we're all one big unit, but you're gonna be a Dad, and I am fucking psyched for you, man! You have no idea how amazing this is gonna be. I promise you, there is nothing on this earth like it," Steve enthuses, shaking him maybe a little too roughly with excitement before pulling him in for another tight bear hug, with an audible oof when he nearly takes the air out of Valentino. "Is that why you've been acting so weird tonight? Because you wanted to tell me?"

Val gestures at the chairs again, and Steve pulls one out and lets Val sit down first before sitting opposite him at the table. He offers Val his handkerchief, which he takes gladly and wipes his eyes. "No, Steven, no. But also, yes. I did want to tell you, but Jenny said no, so I wasn't going to tonight, but when it was time, we would sit and tell you together, but you guessed." He says with a shrug.

"Ok, so if it's not the announcement, why have you been staring at me like that? Do I have something in my teeth or hair?" Steve reaches up to check, and Val captures his hands gently and brings them down to the table. He pats them, grabs two little cups, and pours them an espresso. Val sits back down and takes a sip, letting out an ah, putting it down and looking directly into Steve's eyes.

"Because you, Steven, are in love," Val says seriously. Steve laughs and shakes his head.

"That's ridiculous. I am not," Steve replies.

"Ah-ah-ah Steven, do not lie to your Valentino" Val leans over the table, and he lays his accent on thickly as he does, even though Steve knows he was born and grew up in Indianapolis. Val reserved this stereotypical accent for three things, when he spoke Italian, when he spoke to customers and when he wanted to get his way. Steve was loath to admit it, but generally, it worked on everyone. "Now you tell me who this heavenly creature that won the heart of my friend is, uh? Is it one of your fancy ladies with a little chihuahua? Or maybe some big-time executive man like Richard Gere in Pretty Woman, only you are not a prostitute, obviously, Steven. Come on, tell me. You know Valentino loves romance, Steven, please" he rests his chin on his hands, pouting, making himself look adorable and Steve’s weak defences fall apart.

"Let me just start by saying love is a big word there, Val. But I am interested in someone and-" Steve doesn't get to finish that sentence because Valentino is whooping, clapping his hands and has scooped Steve out of his seat into his arms and is dancing him around the kitchen. He looks up into Steve's eyes.

"Steven, tell me everything!" He says adamantly.

"Well, he's someone I knew a long time ago before I met Jenny, and um, he's kinda the Dad of Zee's friend Morgan," Steve says a little awkwardly, and if they weren't attached, Val's eyebrows would have shot clean off his head due to the velocity he raised them before his expression fell into a cheeky smile.

"Oh, Steven! You bad boy, organising your own play date at the same time, uh?" Val says, twirling Steve around back into his chair.

"Well, that's not exactly what happened, but-" Steve starts again as Val slaps him on the back.

"Is he handsome? No, don't answer that. Stupid question. Of course, he is. Charming, naturally. Tall, of course." Val is pacing, tapping his chin. “But what has he got that the others did not. Something different…" Val says, scanning Steve's face again.

"He's crazy!" A voice comes from the now open doorway as Corey thrusts an ice cream cone at his Dad. Zee hands one to Val, and they both disappear into the den.

"A wild man, eh Steven?" Val says with surprise as his laughter booms around the kitchen, making Steve blush a little and chuckle himself as Jenny sits at the table and looks between them.

She tuts, "Oh Val, you told him, didn't you?"

"Congratulations," Steve says quietly, reaching to hold her hand and beaming at her.

"Let's just not get ahead of ourselves ok. It's early" she points a finger at both of them.

"That's not all Luce della mia vita. Steven has a new old flame. Molto piccante," he purrs and slides into the chair next to Jenny, kissing and then nuzzling her cheek, but she is just staring at Steve.

"What do you mean old flame, like when, before me?" She asks, her brow furrowed.

"Ah yeah," Steve says, but then the realisation hits him that in their eleven years, he never mentioned Eddie by name. Any stories about him were gender-flipped to a girl with no name. Steve would tell Jenny when they first started dating, he never wanted to say that name again, and at the time, he'd meant it. It wasn't a secret he was bisexual, just that, at the time, it was a lot less liberal.

"Nancy?" She asks in surprise, and Valentino laughs.

"No, no, tesoro", he scoops up her hand and kisses it, "A tall, beautiful, charming, crazy man", and Steve gulps.

"Wait, you never said anything about a guy, Steve..." Jenny starts to say before she gets deep in her thoughts, then taps her finger rapidly against the table, her eyes widening in realisation, "He's the one that left, isn't he?" Steve nods. It's all he can do at this point. He's still determining which way this will go. "He's the one that broke your heart and why you were getting wasted in the bar!" She taps the table a few more times, and for a glimmer, she looks angry but then looks at Val, who seems to communicate silently with her and she softens. "Well, he better behave himself this time, else I'll hunt him down myself!"

"Crazy", Val says, kissing Jenny's hand, and pumps his eyebrows at Steve, "So what are you still doing here, Steven?" Val chuckles, "Why don't you hunt down your wild man before Jenny does?"

"He's probably busy. So I think I'm just gonna head home, have a nice bath, and plan something for the week," Steve says, wolfing down his ice cream, eager to get out of this potentially awkward conversation.

"Too busy for you, no! If he's too busy for you, he's not good enough, Steven," Val says with a big smile. Jenny smiles, too, but it doesn't reach her eyes. It puzzles Steve. Was she angry about him telling her it was a girl, not a guy? Was she mad because she thought he would hurt Steve? He'd swear she was jealous if he didn't know any better, but that was impossible. She had everything she wanted and then some. He couldn't work it out, so he decided this might be his cue to leave.

"Well, thank you for a wonderful evening. I am so excited for you both!" He says, turning around, picking up his blazer, and hugs them both goodbye. He notes Jenny's hug isn't the usual tight squeeze. He says goodbye to the kids and Beans and heads home.

As he rounds the corner to his home, he's surprised to see Eddie's motorhome parked up in the driveway. Steve gets out of his car, walks over to the door, and knocks, "Eddie? Everything ok?" He shouts at the door. Steve hears a small tumble of objects from inside, and Eddie curses quietly.

[canarymemories]

endless dream

rating: general audiences archive warning: no archive warnings apply category: gen fandom: paradox live characters: kureha aoi, visty mentioned, kei is also mentioned additional tags: introspection, written before showdown, pre-canon, visty my beloved, flower language, he/they pronouns for kureha aoi, a bit of an introspective on visty's whole situation pre road to legend date published: 2023-09-08 words: 1700

summary: how foolish to try and reach for a dream again.

written for when this flower blooms

here on ao3

the day visty debuts, their agency gifts them each a small bouquet of roses in their assigned colors. they can surely pay for something more extravagant, but aoi doesn’t think about that, instead happy to be given anything at all. the past few weeks had been a whirlwind, so he’s glad to have something physical as a reminder that all their hard work hadn’t been for nothing.

he wonders if the others feel the same.

once the five of them return to their shared apartment, aoi takes his flowers to his room and carefully cuts the stems, avoiding the few small thorns that remain not having been snipped before being packaged. they place the flowers in a tall, skinny vase that he slides to the side of his desk, not wanting to accidentally knock it over. 

aoi isn’t sure what the others do with their roses, but they find themself admiring his flowers for maybe longer than he should. in his defense, though, the thrill of successfully debuting with the people he looks up to — maybe even views as family — hasn’t completely worn off.

however, no matter how well aoi tends to the flowers, it doesn’t take long for some of the roses to wilt, their petals drooping and changing from a soft lavender color to something closer to brown, losing their vibrancy as they fall onto his desk. 

it’s nothing more than a sign of passing time. it probably sounds a little silly, but aoi feels a spike of fear in his stomach when he walks into his room after school, not even two whole weeks since their debut, to see nearly all the roses are wilted. he could very well throw them out, but they feel attached to the flowers. maybe it’s the memory of their first real live — the distant cheering rings in aoi’s head at the memory; the lights had drowned out the crowd from where he was on stage, but he could still hear them nonetheless — or something equally as sentimental.

in the end, they decide to press the flowers to keep a few as a little memento before they all wither away.

aoi sorts through the remaining flowers, the ones that have yet to fully die, only to find that there’s one rose that’s still the same purple hue it was the night he’d received them. he sets that one aside for three more to join it, though they’ve already begun to unfold as their petals turn lighter.

after searching for the easiest way there is to press a flower and then waiting the next few weeks for his heaviest books to do their jobs, aoi finds themself with a permanent reminder of the home they’ve found.

the apartment is quiet after kei announces his leave. aoi doesn’t expect anything different.

shogo is withdrawn as he attempts to tie up all the loose ends so that the four of them remain afloat all while sacrificing his own sleep for it if the bags under his eyes mean anything. toma, as always, tries his best to carry conversation over dinner or whenever he happens to run into one of them in their shared space, but all his effort falls short from truly lightening the atmosphere further than a forced smile. and kantaro… well, aoi isn’t sure how many days it’s been now since any of them have seen him out of his room.

to say they’re a mess is a bit of an understatement.

the pressed rose, the one that had yet to lose its color, sits on aoi’s desk. the others he’d slipped into plastic and now remain in books half read. instead of the pleasant reminder they’d started as, the flowers feel like a cruel joke.

aoi stares at the flower sometimes. it catches his eye while studying and distracts him from his homework.

 he isn’t sure how to feel about it.

about the flower.

about kei.

they’ve always looked up to the people around them. aoi yearned to be like those people, so bright and confident and strong. to define a place for himself among those types had always seemed so far out of reach, but he had done it in the end, hadn’t he?

but now, with those steady pillars they’d grown used to crumbling before their eyes, all of them being thrown off by kei’s sudden departure, aoi isn’t sure what to do. he wants to be angry, that the five of them came so far as a group, as friends, only for it to be tossed away so easily. it’s not fair that kei gets to walk away from it all like he did while the four of them are stuck scrambling to try and make everything right again in his absence.

aoi knows that being the youngest of the group doesn’t help him any; they know that toma and shogo keep things from him and kantaro, so maybe aoi should feel some kind of anger towards them too. but, same as kei, he can’t be angry at them either. he can’t feel much of anything than a muted sense of sadness about everything.

after all, debuting and reaching the level of popularity they managed in such a short amount of time truly felt like a dream. and aoi would be dumb not to realize a dream always has an ending, and this awakening was about as abrupt as it could’ve been.

(aoi can only imagine how the stellas who showed up to every live and every stream feel. maybe they can be outraged enough for the four of them.) 

mind distant from the words he’d written in class, even further from the concept of studying, aoi shifts his notebook further up his desk. they rest their cheek on their outstretched arm, staring at the flower.

the flower stares back.

their fingers inch closer to it, fingertips brushing against the surface of the desk as they near the flower. aoi feels the edge of its plastic covering, a sharp little corner, before pulling his hand away. 

crossing his arms on top of the desk, aoi rests his forehead on them and closes his eyes.

how foolish to try and reach for a dream again.

the rose moves up to aoi’s bookshelf where it’s easier to ignore. his eyes are no longer drawn to it when he walks into the room and as odd as it is, he does feel a bit better with it gone from view.

or maybe that sense of relief is from the four of them having found a solution in the form of paradox live. hip hop isn’t exactly visty’s style, but aoi knows they’re desperate enough to try any way they can to claw their way up from the edge of the cliff they’d been stranded on. that and they’re accustomed to phantometals already, having been using them in their performances since their debut.

(aoi hasn’t missed the nightmares that came with using the metal, reliving the same words over and over and over until he feared he’d still hear them echoing around in his head even when awake. but still, they can deal with them as long as it means they can stick together. shogo seems sure of visty’s ability to stick it out through this tournament. or maybe it’s the desperation taking hold of him as he too realizes with startling clarity that this really is their last chance.)

even so, aoi finds themself feeling a bit more calm knowing that shogo has faith in the four of them, no matter how many comments on social media or late night specials have nothing better to do than to talk about visty’s sudden fall from grace. with that confidence, aoi feels his own growing, although more tentatively.

with the flower out of his view, aoi feels he can breathe a little easier. they have a way to get out of this mess and if they’re to get anywhere in this competition, he knows they have to prepare.

the chill of early morning air does wonders to block out the thoughts racing through aoi’s mind as they do their daily jog. the date for visty’s appearance in paradox live grows nearer and nearer and even with all the practicing the four of them have been doing, both as a group and individually, aoi can’t help but wonder if it’s enough. 

he knows it doesn’t do any good to be pessimistic about a performance and it’s not like they don’t have confidence in their ability as a group, but there’s just this nagging dread at the back of aoi’s mind. no matter how hard they try to ignore it, will it away, it remains annoyingly persistent through every waking moment to the point of losing sleep.

aoi knows that visty isn’t exactly in a good position — not that they have been in a while, if he’s being honest — but he’s stuck with the others long enough to know that whatever may happen, even with however strong their fellow competitors may be, they have a fighting chance. they won’t let this chance slip between their fingers.

they need this win to survive.

his breath comes in puffs, throat stinging slightly from the cold air.

aoi slows to a walk, looking over the nearby buildings they idly pass. there’s a cat or two in a few windows, blinds still drawn on a few, customers entering and exiting a nearby coffee shop. but then he pauses, spotting a small gathering of white flowers, their little petals facing downwards in an apartment window.

he’s not sure what they are, but there’s something about them that stirs a feeling in their chest that they can’t quite put a name to.

aoi exhales, breath turning into a faint cloud before disappearing. he shakes out his hands and begins jogging once more. they’re almost back to the shared apartment now. as nervous as aoi is about performing on a new stage as big as paradox live, about this being their one and only chance to stay as visty — to continue their dream as four instead of five — he feels a sliver of hope that whatever the outcome may be, visty will remain.

end notes:

hi everyone, check out the zine! it was so fun working on it and everyone else's pieces are so good too!

flower meanings: purple rose - looking up to someone, in admiration of (not hanaktotoba based, but i did think this meaning was interesting), snowdrop - hope, consolation (hanakotoba based)

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Lotta cool things to say about August. The biggest is this:

Kimmer scored an A in her Bio Statistics course.

A very big deal. Like that young American hockey team beating the Russians at the Olympics many decades ago for the first time. 🤯

Kimmer got an A.

In Bio Statistics.

Make no mistake. Statistics has been her kryptonite all the way back to her undergrad years in college. It has always been thus. After college, when it was various graduate studies, she did everything she could to dodge those classes having done them already because they just did not compute for her.

And on and on and on and on 'n on.

So. 

What happened to break that pattern?

YouTube for one. A big one. In which you can absolutely find the people who communicate complex disciplines like statistics in ways that are easily understood by people who don't usually understand them.

The second reason for her success was, of course, her professor.

Can't understate enough.

So yeah. Like I said... this was a very very VERY big deal. 😁😁😁

Also, by the end of the month, this Quarter From Hell was officially over. Done. And by Quarter From Hell I'm taking about a period of educational pursuit that, even as it enables massive professional growth, still manages to profoundly kick your ass and forces you to consider just how long you can keep this up. 🤔🤨

We kicked off August with a lovely dinner at Mod Pizza in Lynnwood with one of Kimmer's custom concoctions that never disappoints. 🤩☺️

Couple nights later it's Joan Jett & The Blackhearts opening for Alanis Morissette's Triple Moon Tour at White River Amphitheater just a stone's throw from Auburn.

The tickets were a gift from Daughter Number 1 earlier in the year, something she knew her ol' mom 'n dad would dearly enjoy.

Which.

We.

Did.

Been a while, I won't lie. Been a while since we attended a proper concert of this scale. Joan Jett was definitely a lovely trip down memory lane atop iconic songs to which everyone still knows the lyrics...

And definitely sung 'um. 😁😁😁

The headliner, Alanis Morissette, produced a wildly big show, taking full advantage of nighttime that fully descended by her first song.

Coupla big screens to either side of the stage masterfully filled by a crew of camera ops. A big screen, back 'n center, onto which was projected imagery implicit and implied by the music and lyrics. A strip of sheer fabric, ten to fifteen feet wide that not only captured lights, shadows, and imagery, but also acted as a wall that could obscure the back of the stage. The lights, of course, highly choreographed. The sometimes frenetic motion of Morissette... so effective at focusing thousands of eyes in rapt and sometimes disbelieving attention.

Yeah. 

She and her band put on a show.

They put on a big show, and, like I said, it's been a while since we've experienced one.

And we very very very much appreciated the experience. 🤪🤩☺️

A small thing in August that's legitimately a very very big thing: we gotta new mechanic to handle the maintenance of our cars. It's been a while, is all I'm saying. During which time we used larger shops that were just fine... just not with the same personal touch.

So HUZZAH!!! 🤩

August 8 kicked off a triple shot of Little Lies performances: MUSIC AT THE MARINA on Thursday at the Everett Marina, SOUTH LAKE UNION BLOCK PARTY on Friday at Denny Park, and TASTE EDMONDS on Saturday at Civic Center Playfield.

The Little Lies is a Fleetwood Mac tribute band with which Linzy's performed since its formation in March of 2022. She plays keys, acoustic guitar, and handles all Christine McVie vocals.

Of the three parts of the triple shot this year, we made it to the Marina show in Everett and the Taste show in Edmonds both of which we enjoyed tremendously and both of which have become a yearly summer family tradition. We even share the Everett tradition with a dear friend of ours so it's extra special sweet. ☺️

A week later, August 16, Linzy's at Woodinville's Wine Alley for an outdoor performance that drew more engagement and requests than performing inside during a wine bar gig. The sound got to be louder, the summer crowd bigger, and a good time was had by all. There was even a group of adults sitting right next to Linzy on the patio of the wine bar next to her who remained right there for the entire three-hour set.

They even sang along to some of Linzy's Taylor Swift covers. 🤩

For myself, professionally, August was the continuation of a creative Renaissance. 

Ummm...

Maybe that's overstating a little.

For sure I'm having a lot of fun on the projects I'm crafting with old tools, new tools, an evolving creative mindset, and a bit of deep diving into all the resources I have at my command. 🤯

August 25 and we're celebrating the birthdays of two of our dear friends who're (conveniently) married to each other. So we have they, their three-year-old and their five-year-old over for the afternoon to just enjoy ourselves.

Relax.

Play.

Converse.

Dine.

Drink.

And enjoy dessert. Sending them home with exhausted children.

Talk about a WIN. 😉

August 29 we're with that same family at the Evergreen State fair, enjoying ride and snack experiences with their kids and hoping they hadn't suddenly made off to Jamaica with the couplehood we just afforded them. 🤣

We were also there for yet another Little Lies performance, this time a shorter set as they opened for a Led Zeppelin tribute band.

Gotta say: since this was technically a school night, the entire experience very much felt like playing hooky. 🤪

The next morning, August 30, I had to be early to work and so missed out on the inaugural ride of light rail from Lynnwood to the UW. At the end of the workday, though, I did take that ride in the opposite direction and it.

Was.

Magnificent.

Twenty-five minutes.

Didn't even have to hop over to a bus at Northgate. 🤯

And then it's August 31st on which I woke up in the morning believing yes, sincerely believing, that this was September 1.

Whoops.

Actually, September 1's today.

So onward!

😁

[personasintro]

monachopsis | 08

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; after receiving unpleasant news that doesn’t allow you to grow your family, your husband comes up with an idea that unfortunately involves his brother whom he despises

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: tattoo artist!yoongi x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, mini series

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, toxic parents (nothing new lol)

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 15k+

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⇠ prev. | next ⇢

It's been two months and you still can't believe it. 

You're not quite sure what you're going through. On the outside, you try to be happy and content, desperately trying to convince yourself that this is something you've been waiting for. The journey to get there has been messy and it affected you more than you could've ever imagined. But nobody knows that. Nobody knows about the inner battles you're facing every hour, even every minute of your day.

The little life growing inside of you is… an overwhelming feeling to say the least. It's a huge reminder. 

Yeonseok is thrilled, and has been from the moment he found you standing in the bathroom, barely able to comprehend the news. He's ten times happier, always smiling and making sure you have everything you need – not that he hasn't been doing that before. Now he doesn't allow you to clean and often, you have to remind him you're not even in that stage of being pregnant.

If it wasn't for the famous morning sickness, you would barely know it. It's still early for you to experience the different uncomfortable symptoms and struggles. However, you can't pinpoint whether the pregnancy is to be blamed for the frequent throwing up or your own conscience. You don't want to make it sound as if your mental health is on a bad path. More like the guilt is making your life tough. But no one is really to blame.

Realizing, you spend your time trying to constantly convince yourself just for you to end up with the same miserable ache in your chest. It's not good for the baby, that's what you often say in your inner and silenced thoughts that no one ever hears. 

With Yeonseok too excited, he wasn't waiting too long to drop the news to his parents who, to be completely honest, have been just as thrilled. They've showered you with so much love, not hiding how excited they're about their unborn first grandchildren. They don't know the whole truth though. You're not sure if it's something you'd share with them. That would be fucking weird, let's be honest.

It feels like Yeonseok is too prideful to admit the truth. It feels embarrassing to do so as well. You're not sure if you could face your parents-in-law. But it feels wrong to be lying not just to them, but to yourself and in general. You're no saint, but all of it feels wrong. 

Just like the fancy birthday dinner you've been invited to. It's Mrs. Min's birthday and apparently, she doesn't want to make it a big party which is so unlike her. It's been a couple of days since you've visited Min's residence. They made sure to invite you more often which you don't find particularly annoying or anything close to it. But having Mins right there in front of you… it reminds you how badly you, all of you, have fucked up with this deal. It should've been so easy but it's the exact opposite. 

Mrs. Min places a greek salad on the table, the amount of food could surely feed a whole village, as she sits down with the biggest smile she so kindly gives you. It's hard to think of her as a bad person. But you can't help it and think about what he told you. You've experienced her to look frustrated, amongst other things, when it came to this one person.

The not so Korean food looks appetizing, though you're ready to dig into the steak instead, as its smell fills up your nostrils. The first bite tastes divine and you almost hum and moan from the delicious taste. In the midst of your second bite, Maria – their maid in her late fifties who has been with the Min's family since their sons were kids – apologizes for the disturbance and informs the family about someone's arrival. 

“Mr. Min is here, m'am.” she adds, stating the reason for her disturbance.

The fork in your hand almost clinks against the expensive ceramic of your plate, but your hold tightens around it. The moment Maria excuses herself to prepare the dessert in the meantime, you swear your whole stomach strains as nausea hits you. You know it's no morning sickness or the delicious dish prepared by Maria and the chef in Min's kitchen. It's the damn psyche of having to see him again because he's here.

Despite today being his mother's birthday dinner, the thought of him coming over went over your head. Him coming makes sense but at the same time – it doesn't. He never comes at family dinners, very rarely and the shock on your in-laws faces tells you they're just as surprised. Yeonseok scoffs silently on your left, the sound not going unnoticed by you but you decide not to react.

Your heart hammers in your chest and you've lost all your appetite, nerves slowly crawling to every cell in your body.

“Well, what surprising news.” Mrs. Min fills the silence, and even though her voice doesn't hold any hostility, she doesn't sound pleased or even happy to hear her second son came. She simply voices her thoughts as if the topic is about the most casual or random thing ever. 

Mr. Min hums, reaching for his glass of wine before a set of footsteps come closer and closer. With each step and second, you feel like flying out of the stool and hiding yourself somewhere in this huge house. You're nervous.

Nervous to see him again after you ended everything. It's stupid, what was going on between you could be considered purely as a business and you know you did what was for the best. Things were about to get too messy and you couldn't let that happen. 

But you're also scared shitless. The thought of seeing him again shouldn't affect you this much and you're completely aware of this fact. The guilt – and so does the nausea – rises but before you can excuse yourself to use the restroom, not caring how weird that would look suddenly, Yoongi in the flesh stops at the entrance of the dining room.

It's not just you who naturally look at him because of his arrival or sounds of his footsteps, you all look up from your plates to stare at him. His hair color is different, you immediately notice since you're not met with his usual black hair and are shocked to see the silver color. His whole appearance is rather unexpected. 

He stands there wearing a suit, looking the most elegant you've ever seen him. He's giving a completely different vibe and if you didn't know him, you would think he's someone else. It's weird to think how he suddenly fits into this family and you can tell he holds the same power every Min family member does. 

The tattoos are hidden from everyone's sight and the most eye-catching feature is currently his hair color. He looks astonishing. 

He scans the room, almost surprised to see just the four of you as his eyes stop at you for a moment. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you swear you stop breathing for a moment, anticipating whatever is about to come. But then he looks away and averts his gaze at his parents instead – and you hate how that pains you.

“Yoongi,” His mother says, not hiding her surprise. “We thought you wouldn't come.”

“It's your birthday, mother.” Yoongi informs as if she didn't know that.

Despite Yoongi avoiding any family gatherings and their sore relationship, Yoongi would always make sure to at least drop a gift to one of his parents whenever it's their birthday. He wouldn't often spend the day with them, or attend any parties they are used to throwing, but he tried his best to at least give them something.

After the failures of any parties he attended, it was just safer for him to avoid them all. Even though he was painted as the bad guy who doesn't care about anything, not even his parents.

But he came now – bearing a gift in the form of a small paper bag.

And then he moves and you watch every single step he takes toward the table, stopping beside his mother as she stands up with a hand over her chest as she notices the gift. Yoongi takes her hand into his big ones, rings adoring his long fingers as his lips brush against her cheeks before he wishes her a happy birthday. She thanks him, smiling the first time since he came here as she places the gift on the floor to check it out later.

Maybe she didn't want to disturb the dinner, but you still can't help but think she could've at least looked at the gift her son bought her. Does she even care about the gift? 

But Yoongi doesn't look phased one bit, unbuttoning his suit as he sits at the free seat which happens to be right in front of you. Your eyes meet for a split second and you quickly look away, not having the strength to look at him any longer. 

The table is huge but it wouldn't make sense for him to have a seat a few seats from everyone. You know he didn't have much choice but right now, having him right in front of you makes your legs shake in nervosity. 

“We're glad you came tonight, son.” Mr. Min says at the head of the table.

Yoongi meekly nods before Maria comes again, ready to serve Yoongi his food as he simply puts his hand up. “I'm fine to serve my own food, thank you Maria.” 

She looks a little perplexed at Yoongi's parents, but offers Yoongi a soft smile before she bows and retrieves back to the kitchen, informing dessert is ready whenever you're ready. 

Yoongi serves his own food, his movements gentle and you gulp at the sight of his veiny hands as they reach to the bowl of roasted parmesan baby potatoes. 

“Honey, does the steak not taste good?” Yeonseok speaks next to you, his hand on top of your thigh as you jump in your spot, staring at him with wide eyes. He cocks his head at your plate, noticing you've taken only one bite so far and seem to be not hungry at all. 

With his question, Yeonseok attracts everyone's attention at the table and you gulp, giving him a tensed smile. “No, it's delicious.”

“Yeonseok, stop questioning her. You know how–”

Almost feeling like what she's about to say, you interrupt Mrs. Min's in the midst of her sentence knowing how rude that looks because you've never done that before. But you couldn't help it. 

“It's delicious. Really.” you assure them, forcing yourself to take a second bite but instead of the good taste, all you want is to spit it out. 

Your mother-in-law looks a little surprised by your interruption but she shakes herself out of it, offering you a gentle smile as she reaches for her red wine. However, she has different plans than just leaving the topic, Yeonseok's question and everything about it reminding her of the obvious. 

“Yoongi, you should congratulate your brother. And Y/N.” 

This time, you don't manage to catch the fork as it loudly clanks against the plate and you nervously apologize. Mrs. Min sounds ecstatic, cheerful at her words as she beams at both of you, your unusual behavior going completely unnoticed as everyone beams in the room. Well, your in-laws do as they shoot bright smiles your way. They're happy, it's nice to witness it but it's the least of things you can focus on. 

Yoongi arches his brow, leans against his stool as he glances at his mother. “Congratulate?”

“Your big brother is about to be a father.”

The whole world stops.

At least it feels like that. Your stomach churns uncomfortably and you hate yourself how automatically you look at Yoongi. His features remain neutral, staring at his mother before he averts his sharp and dark gaze at you. Holy shit.

You've no idea what Yoongi thinks right now. Does he think you're a liar? You did tell him you're not pregnant – but only because you didn't know at that time. You made it seem as if you're helping him despite him not reaching the end of your deal. All of this is fucking messy. A fucking mess you can't seem to get out of. 

And then he glances at his brother, forcing you to look at your husband as well as he stares sharply at Yoongi as if he's daring him to say something. He's tense and not in his usual relaxed posture as he glares the hell out of Yoongi.

But Yoongi only stares back at him, neutral almost like a robot before he opens his mouth and lets out a mere; “Congrats.” 

His parents stare and clear their throats at the same time, biting back any distasteful remarks about Yoongi's lack of enthusiasm. That's what pisses them off. The lack of emotions he shows. It shows how controlling of him they want to be.

But Yoongi comes here like a king, showing them they can't control him.

You start noticing the little details even more now. 

It's funny because the two brothers are wearing the same type of clothing, but both of them radiate completely different energy. You look at your husband and you see an attractive man. Both of them are attractive just in different ways and you hate that Yoongi is the one who makes your stomach flutter with a set of butterflies. It's just his looks and energy. 

By asking to be excused, you would draw even more attention and you don't want anyone to feel like there's something going on. So you stay seated in your spot, bracing to take the stupid fork again along with knife. 

For the rest of the dinner, you try to get as much food as it's possible into your stomach, swallowing down any urge to push the plate away. Your in-laws mostly talk through it along with Yeonseok as they talk about business and all sorts of stuff you don't care to listen to. 

Yoongi, sitting on the opposite side from you, remains silent too as he chews on the food until his plate is empty. When Maria comes back with the dessert, a molten chocolate cake, you barely eat a half of it which is truly a shame. You were so excited for tonight's food, knowing it's always delicious and your in-laws are very precise when it comes to food and inviting someone over, whether it's for lunch or dinner. 

You can't help it though. It's your nerves acting up and even your recent sweet cravings won't save you this time. Luckily, nobody voices your non-eager attitude when it comes to food, and this time you don't even care how it might look. All of that is somewhere back in your mind, if even, because all you can focus on is the man sitting not far away from you. You're practically right in front of his eyes, fully exposed to him even though he doesn't look your way. At least you think he doesn't. 

You act as if he's not there, not even glancing his direction though you're more than aware of his presence. You don't feel his burning eyes on you – you're not sure if you want to. Yet it feels like there's many unspoken things between you, and him ignoring you too doesn't sit well with you. Which is selfish, you're aware, because you're doing the same thing.

So when the dessert is over and everyone continues to drink the expensive alcohol of each of their choice, Yoongi excuses himself to get some fresh air and he gets dismissed, even though he truly doesn't care. He leaves his seat and disappears further down the house.

Should you go talk to him? 

You feel like you should.

But are you ready? 

Not at all. 

What are you going to say to him? You've no idea where to start or what you want to tell him at all. There's just this feeling that pushes you to go and talk to him.

Plus you don't want to make any bad blood with Yeonseok. It's already enough that he looked annoyed at Yoongi's sudden presence and unexpected arrival. The reason behind it is your pregnancy without doubt. No matter how Yeonseok says the baby is his, he knows biologically it is not. None of you can change that.

And you don't want to give him any reason to doubt you, or want to make him feel like you want to get closer to his brother. Not at all. It's better if you stay away from him – that much is clear.

Maybe living with this guilt is your price for ever agreeing to your husband's ridiculous plan. He's not one to blame though. You agreed after all.

So why the hell do you stand up after softly patting the corners of your lips, excusing yourself to use the restroom?

You know the restroom is not a place you're going to visit. Navigating your way through the house, you get to the backdoor that leads to a large garden and even before opening the tall and big glass door, you already spot Yoongi leaning against a pillar. A cigarette between his two fingers as he brings it closer to his mouth as he takes a drag.

Quietly but not too subtly, you open the door and sneak into the chilly night where stars surround the dark sky. The automatic lights already inform him about your presence, if the sound of the door opening hasn't. 

But he doesn't react.

He never looks up. Nor even glances in your direction as he continues to smoke as if he's still alone, despite your figure coming closer.

Taking a shaky breath, you grow even more nervous to be facing him, no… to talk to him, again. Is he even aware of your presence? He must be. There's no way he doesn't know.

But much to your luck, it seems like he decides to put you out of your misery once he looks up, no longer staring into the distance or at his black elegant boots. The suit is gone and he stands before you in a white button-up, some of his tattoos slightly visible through the thin fabric. Averting his eyes right at you, no shock is evident on his neutral and expressionless face, he remains silent.

“Hi.” you stupidly offer into the thick air, not averting your gaze as much as you would want to.

A beat of silence follows.

“Hi.” he says back after a moment.

You hug your arms, rubbing your forearms to mask your nervosity as you bite into your lower lip harshly. Nobody takes any initiative in starting a conversation and you know it has to be you. You came to him after all. Not the other way around.

If you didn't come to him, there's a big possibility Yoongi wouldn't approach you. It didn't seem like he wanted to, to be honest. 

Opening your mouth, no words come out of it as you ponder about your next words. But once you actually think of saying something, Yoongi beats you to it and his deep voice reaches your ears. 

“What do you want, Y/N?”

He's straight-forward. Perhaps a little bit too much and you actually find yourself slightly offended by the question and the tone of it. 

Okay. No beating around the bush. You got it.

So far it feels like Yoongi wants to have nothing to do with you. Not that you can't blame him.

“I didn't lie to you.” you blurt out suddenly.

He watches you, his features not changing even a bit before he slightly cocks his head to the side. He takes another drag, aiming his face in the opposite direction as a cloud of smoke leaves his mouth.

“I didn't know I was pregnant when I… talked to you the last time.” you specify as he remains silent before a silent chuckle leaves his mouth.

He finishes smoking, the cigarette now short and almost all used as he hollows his cheeks while he takes a deep inhale of it. Once he's done, he presses the cigarette against the white pillar which makes your breath hitch as he throws the stud on the grass. He doesn't bother to go to the nearest bin and throw it out.

His mother will be surely ecstatic once she finds it.

“Congratulations.” he says somehow dryly, but maybe that's just his usual way of distancing himself. 

You don't expect him to be over the moon with the news. All of this is weird and his lack of reaction just proves to you that he doesn't really think much about this situation. You know what the deal was and the child growing inside you is not his. No matter how biologically that is incorrect. It's not like you expected him to give you some kind of reaction, other than the pure ignorance and a lack of interest he's showing. 

“Congratulations?” you mutter back just as dryly, his dark eyes watching you.

“What do you want me to say, Y/N?” he sighs.

At the sound of your name, your heart clenches at how cold he sounds. 

“I came here to tell you that I didn't lie to you. I didn't know and I only found out after we talked.”

Yoongi didn't know it for sure. You didn't know when you came to his place to put an end to everything. Clearly, he was aware of all the risks because there was still a chance. Fuck, it would be such a bad luck if you didn't get pregnant after all those times he fucked you just in one night.

But then a notification popped on his screen and his bank account has suddenly grown into something it never has before. The exact money that all of you settled on was now sitting in his bank account. 

To be completely truthful, Yoongi didn't think you would be able to convince Yeonseok to send him the money. Yeonseok is stubborn, in a completely different way than Yoongi is and whatever has to do with him, he knows Yeonseok is even ten times more stubborn than normally. He hasn't had the chance to see much of your marriage and relationship, yet he knows Yeonseok is much softer around you. You're his wife after all and maybe there's some truth to it that people we love bring out the best in us.

So he thought you somehow convinced him.

And when he decided to come here and celebrate his mother's birthday, the last thing he expected to find out is that you really are pregnant after all. But is it that much of a shock? Somehow he settled with the thought that you aren't.

Maybe you decided to get a sperm donor after all, that's what he thought.

But according to your words, nothing like that has happened and you're pregnant thanks to him. 

“Relax,” he sighs, “I didn't even think of you lying. I mean it's probably for the best that it ended up like this, no?” 

You frown a little. “What do you mean?”

“I felt fucking bad for getting the money without you getting a part of your deal. So now that you actually got it, there shouldn't be any bad feelings.”

He makes it sound so easy, yet you feel like your heart is cracking for some reason. And you're fucking confused because you don't know what you want him to say. You don't know how you want him to react. The only thing you know is that none of this feels right and it's a fucking mess. And the same guilt is slowly crawling all over your body. 

“Right.” you gulp, hearing your heartbeat in your ears as you try to utter a few words but nothing comes out. 

Your head feels heavy and what feels like anxiety engulf your body. Even your legs feel like jelly and you hate yourself for wearing heels tonight, even though they're not that high to begin with. You stumble on the spot, your eyes widening in shock as you expect the worst. Luckily, Yoongi is close and even though the single stumble wouldn't make you fall, Yoongi places his hands around your forearms and holds you steady.

“Are you okay?” he asks, leaning his face closer to you as he tries to inspect your face. 

Nodding, you swallow the uncomfortable lump in your throat rather dryly and despite your confirmation that you're okay, you look anything but it. 

You're shocked. Shocked yourself. Shocked by this situation. You're exhausted, wanting to escape from the constant guilt and never-ending discontent you're feeling.

“Come on. You should sit down or go inside.” Yoongi mutters but you don't move, eyes wide in shock as you can't react in any way.

Your mind is whirling, you're completely aware of what's happening even though you're confused too. But your body seems to not react.

“Hey, come on talk to me,” Yoongi offers softly, taking your chin between his fingers as he makes you look at him. 

His sharp eyes are set on you, a small frown adoring his face. “How far along are you? Is that what people ask pregnant women?” 

Something snaps in you and a breathless laugh escapes your mouth. Yoongi's lips twitch and he nods his head to encourage you to answer. 

“Two months?” There's a tilt to your tone that makes it sound like a question and Yoongi laughs a little.

“Are you asking me?”

You laugh, shaking your head as Yoongi slowly lets go of your arms and inspects you with his eyes once more. “I don't know. People have this stupid tendency to talk about everything in weeks when it comes to pregnancy and babies, and I'm confused over it.”

Yoongi snorts, “You and I both. I don't know shit about pregnancy.”

“I like your hair.” you blurt out and you don't fail to notice the brief look of surprise shadowing Yoongi's features until he lets out a breathy chuckle, brushing his fingers through his now silver hair. 

“You do? Thought my mother would have some kind of snarky comment about it but she didn't.”

You laugh, eyes glancing at the top of his head again. Yeonseok would never dye his hair, you're sure about that. It's one of the many things that differs him and Yoongi. 

“I never knew you're planning to dye your hair.” you admit, though it's stupid because of course you didn't know. You're not friends and there are so many things you don't know about him.

You both know that but luckily, Yoongi goes along with it and shoots you a brief smile.

“Yeah, it wasn't a plan. Just a spontaneous idea. My friend thought it's a good idea to do this at midnight.” 

His friend? 

Again, you don't know any of Yoongi's friends. All you heard is from Yeonseok and if you remember correctly, he called them 'a bunch of stoners' which you're not sure if it's accurate at all. Where would Yeonseok even see or meet his friends? It's most likely one of his judgy assumptions rather than a raw truth. 

“Oh, the one I saw in your studio?” 

What the hell?

Why would you say that?

Yoongi looks at you before he simply says; “Yeah.”

You know you have the look on your face. He sees it. He sees what you're assuming but he doesn't do anything to correct you.

Is he sleeping with her again? He did say they used to hook-up, that much you can remember. Actually, you can remember every single thing he said to you.

There's nothing holding him back now. He can do anything he wants to. So why do you feel… bitter about it? 

You're the one married. You're the one who's pregnant.

Seeing him and being so close to him, there's something pulling you closer to him. Something that wants you to be in his close proximity. It's not love. You're sure of it. How can you love someone you barely know? 

But the attraction you feel toward him is too much. It feels just the same as it did when you decided to end things. Nothing has changed and that scares you. You thought time would do you some favor but it turns out to be false.

“Hey,” 

He snaps you out of your thoughts, your eyes blinking a few times as you find his dark glowing orbs.

“How are you doing?”

Something about his voice and the question itself is gentle. You're taken back for a moment.

“You mean besides pregnant and all emotional? Good.” you joke but Yoongi doesn't laugh nor chuckles how you expect him to.

Instead, he keeps staring at you until your smile slowly fades away.

“Is Yeonseok treating you right?”

“What kind of question is that?” you breathe out a chuckle, not hiding surprise.

“You seemed to be acting weird all evening. I don't remember you being this way.” he points out, voice hushed as if he told you a secret that nobody can hear which you don't understand, because you're alone outside. 

Yeah, you're acting weird. For numerous reasons but he's the main one. Every single reason includes him but you can't tell him that. The baby you're carrying is biologically his. You made it through countless times of having sex, memories you can't seem to shake off. You no longer crave your husband's touch. You feel guilty every time he only touches you, and you don't mean anything intimate behind it. Whenever he would take your hand into his, you no longer feel the excitement and spark you once used to feel. 

It's guilt and a need to pull away instead. 

And you hate yourself for it. You're so mad at yourself that you want to scream into your pillow every night. But you put this imaginary mask on and you fall asleep with a smile on your face, letting your husband caress your still non-visible bump. 

“I didn't expect you to come tonight. That's all.” you admit, not really lying but not telling him the raw truth either.

“What? You don't like seeing me?” he jokes this time, one corner of his lips lifting up and you swallow the urge to salivate at how good he looks doing bare minimum. 

To be honest, you're not sure if you like to see him here. He just made your mind even a bigger mess than it already was without even knowing. He's completely clueless, going on with his life while you can't seem to forget about you two and what you've done. 

“That's not it.” you laugh. It sounds a little forced though Yoongi doesn't react, maybe completely clueless about that too. “I'm glad you came.”

Okay, you weren't planning to say exactly that.

But it was worth it when you see the slightest glimpse of Yoongi's fond smile before he chuckles again. 

“I'm sure your parents are glad too.”

You try to save it, though it makes Yoongi laugh even more.

“Yeah, not sure about that. Mom always sends me an invite over a text but I think she secretly hopes I never show up.”

You frown at the thought. The memory of her brushing off Yoongi's gift like it's nothing sudden comes to the surface. But you hope Yoongi is not right about this.

“I'm sure that's not true. Why would she hope about that?”

“I always bring some kind of drama.”

“You? The person who barely reacts?” you joke, laughing as Yoongi joins you though his life is nowhere near bubbly or equal as yours. 

“They don't realize they're the drama.”

“Yeah, it's always like that…” you silently agree as the topic falls down a little and you end up staring at each other.

Heartbeat racing, you don't budge as you stare deeply into his eyes as he watches you with intense stare as well, which only adds to the sudden weird atmosphere and tension. 

You open your mouth but you're interrupted by a door opening, soon spotting your husband as he looks around before his eyes set on you and his brother. He visibly tenses and without hesitance, makes his way to both of you. As soon as he's next to you, you feel his hand on your back as he sends daggers at Yoongi.

“What are you doing here?”

You're not sure who is he asking and you stare in bewilderment at how hostile he sounds. He could at least pretend to be nice. You don't like seeing him like this and you know it has everything to do with Yoongi. 

“Are you asking me or…?” you chuckle almost nervously, but Yoongi doesn't budge.

He frowns at his brother as he scoffs, “Can't talk to my sister-in-law?”

You don't know what makes you want to throw up. Yoongi calling you sister-in-law or the bitter chuckle Yeonseok doesn't hide.

“Stay away from my wife.” Yeonseok spits and inches closer to Yoongi.

Eyes widening, you get between the two and subtly push Yeonseok. You ignore how he stares at you like you just betrayed him. You don't want to cause any scene, you want to avoid it as much as possible. At the moment you don't care who's right or not. 

“Should've thought about it sooner.” But Yoongi only digs deeper, getting provoked by Yeonseok and this time you have to put much bigger pressure on Yeonseok's chest to not let him lash at Yoongi. 

“Stop it,” you bark, not really sure who it's aimed at. Just one of them or both? “I came to talk to him.”

“And why would you do that?” Yeonseok frowns at you and you frown back, standing your ground as you scoff.

“Maybe because you've been glaring at him ever since he came? You're being impolite, Yeonseok. I just wanted to check on him.”

“That's not any of your business.”

Your mouth left agape, you're speechless but before you can react, Yoongi does it for you.

“Don't talk to her like that.” he warns and Yeonseok glares at him once again, but keeps his mouth shut because once he looks back at you, you see he realizes his mistake. He opens his mouth but you shake your head, silencing him.

“Wow,” he suddenly starts to laugh. You watch your husband turn into something you haven't seen yet, he looks almost insane yet he doesn't do anything big. He laughs sarcastically and bitterly, rubbing his forehead as he looks at you and Yoongi. “Look at that.”

“Yeonseok, stop it.” you snap, “Don't say something you'll regret later.”

His ironic smile fades, eyes boring into Yoongi who's standing behind you before he looks away with a clenched jaw. 

Yoongi brushes past you and your husband, his intoxicating scent filling your nose for a quick moment as he makes his way inside. But he doesn't fully step in as he looks across his shoulder, eyes and words aimed at his brother. “Get your shit together.”

Yeonseok looks like he could punch a wall at the moment, but you don't entertain that idea, following Yoongi inside without looking back. He joins you, thinking twice about doing something stupid.

But by the time you're inside and joining your in-laws, Yoongi is already gone, leaving the rest of the family in a bitter mood because of his sudden departure. Only Yeonseok seems to be pissed off for a different reason. One, only the three of you know about.

Arriving back home helps to bring you some calmness to your sour mood. Yeonseok hasn't uttered a single word on your way back and so haven't you. What's the point? He seems to be upset and partly, you're the reason for it. 

If you haven't decided to go to see Yoongi, all of this could've been avoided. Sure, in the end Yeonseok still couldn't help but glare at his brother at any given chance, but at least there would be no verbal confrontation. You know you just added fuel to the fire which wasn't completely helpful at all. But you couldn't help yourself. 

You had to talk to Yoongi, as much as a part of you thought it was a dumb idea. You're confused and yet again, your thoughts are running wild that you don't pay any attention to your husband. Taking a longer shower, you replay your conversation until your headache approaches and even then, you see Yoongi's face in front of you. He occupies every corner of your mind and you breathe heavily to calm down your heartbeat.

This constant stress and hundreds of negative emotions you're feeling are not good for the baby. You wish you could just focus on yourself and the baby.

It's later on when you're scrolling through your social media, completely ignoring your husband as he's in and out of the shower, soon joining you in your bedroom. He stares at the ceiling, frowning at the plain color until he breaks the silence.

“Why would you go talk to him?” 

It's the same question all over again, one you could answer easily but it would bring even more guilt and pain. Not just to you but to Yeonseok as well. You realize whatever you're dealing with alone, could potentially break everything you've been building with him. Sure, being honest seems like the best and healthiest option but you're a coward. You purposely try to push the real reason, not saying it out loud because you know the consequences it would have. You ignore it with every fiber of your body, well at least you try to do so.

Glancing at him, the pained expression on his face pains you even more. Yeonseok has expectations of you, some you understand and some you don't. But most importantly, you know you would act the same way if the roles were reversed. You know whatever Yeonseok feels, whether it's jealousy or betrayal, you would feel just the same. 

It's already hard as it is – for both of you. You can't imagine being on Yeonseok's place. Your husband should never feel threatened by another man. And deep down you know that's how Yeonseok probably feels.

Sighing, you lock your phone and put it on your nightstand. “I told you. I just wanted to make sure he's fine. Everyone didn't seem happy to have him there.”

“What are you talking about?” Yeonseok frowns.

“Seok, come on…” you chuckle, “Your mother barely acknowledged him, so did your father. She ignored his gift, and didn't even bother to take a glance. I felt bad for him.”

You siding with Yoongi and partly having his back will only evoke another percentage of anger in Yeonseok. He's sensitive when it comes to his brother. You're growing quite sick of it. Maybe because you come from a broken family too. And it's not fair to Yoongi at all. Hearing his part of the story, you could relate to it even if your positions in your families are different.

Sure, he's not perfect either and often lets the temper get the best of him, but he's not at fault here. He's not as loved as Yeonseok is and the single thought makes your eyes water. You don't want your baby to feel they're unloved by one of the parents. You want them to be loved and have a great loving family. Somewhere they feel safe and loved. 

“Since when do you care about this so much?”

The suspicion is evident in his voice and it makes your stomach clench uncomfortably.

“Just because I've been quiet this whole time, doesn't mean I don't see certain things Yeonseok.” you point out, realizing this is the first time you're having this kind of conversation.

You would often voice your confusion of how your in-laws speak about their younger son, but it would be often brushed off and Yeonseok would go on and off about how Yoongi doesn't deserve them, is an asshole and all the same old story. So naturally, you just let go of that topic because it wasn't worth any potential disagreements. After all, you barely knew Yoongi and everything you heard about him was from his parents and your husband.

You don't want to make it seem like because you had sex, now you suddenly know everything about him and you realize how your confession about tonight's dinner might sound like. You understand Yeonseok's suspicion and confusion, so do you the hidden annoyance laced in both his expression and voice. 

But now you've seen a bigger picture, especially after talking to Yoongi. He sounded and looked vulnerable in his own style. You remember every minute of that conversation you held with him at his place. 

At that time it didn't feel like he was your brother-in-law. At least you never really thought of him that way, hence the lack of his presence in your life. But back then, during the conversation, you never acknowledged it. He felt like… your friend. 

You felt close to him.

Yeonseok looks speechless, betrayal showing on his face again but he can't expect you to agree with everything he says or does just because you're in a marriage. 

“Is that all it is?”

Accusation clear in his tone, your mouth falls open as you stare at him wide-eyed, not believing your ears. “What are you initiating, Yeonseok?”

“I don't know, you tell me. You never bothered to discuss my brother before, at least not to this extent. I find it weird.” No, he finds it suspicious. 

“Do you think I never noticed how you guys mistreat him?”

You wish you would keep your mouth shut as soon as you say it. Though it's true, the expression on your husband's face pains you. The last thing you want to do is fight. And any conversation about his brother means fighting. There's no other way. But he can't expect you to play a nice wife who constantly keeps her mouth shut. You're not like that at all. You've never been and he knows that. He knew about your every part when marrying you, even told you that's what made him fall in love with you.

But the topic named Yoongi would be often brushed off even if you might've said something that could potentially annoy or upset your husband. But he never lashed at you because of it, nor did he show so many negative emotions. 

There is also a realization and you know why he's reacting like this. If you never had to intimately get closer to Yoongi, this wouldn't be happening. Yeonseok is sensitive and you get that.

“You can't be serious, Y/N.”

At the usage of your name, you feel like he's scolding you and his tone implicates that much. Frowning, you keep your mouth shut despite wanting to say something but you can't find the right words. 

“Is this because you slept with him?”

“Oh my god!” you exclaim, sitting up straight before the anger causes you to get off the bed as Yeonseok stares at you with a lifted brow which angers you even more. “I can't believe you're bringing this up again.”

“You never cared for him, Y/N. Why would you go and seek his attention? You're pregnant and we're having a baby. You should focus on us.”

It feels like everything he's saying is wrong. And you get this urge to cry. Out of desperation and anger. But you swallow it down, staring in disbelief at your husband. 

“I went to check on him, Yeonseok. You might not care about whatever relationship you have with him, but I don't like weirdness between me and other people. I felt bad so I went to talk to him. He literally congratulated us. It's not like we were doing something secretive behind your back.” 

“Look at it from my point of view,” he starts, shaking his head. “My brother got you pregnant, you spent nights with him. Of course I'm going to get upset when you sneak out to see him.”

“For fuck sake, I didn't sneak out! I'm not some teenager that has to sneak out. I'm also an adult who's free and completely capable of making decisions on her own.” you frustratedly tell him.

“That's not what I meant.”

“No? Then what did you mean?” 

There's a beat of silence spent with two of you staring at each other, the argument sitting heavily in the air as your bedroom starts to feel suffocating. 

“Look, I understand your point of view. I should've told you I'm about to talk to him,” 

You both know he would do anything to stop you.

And at the same time, you didn't think of it as a big deal. You thought you could somehow talk to Yoongi without any drama.

“It's not like I'm seeing him anymore. I just wanted to end everything on a good note.”

“You will be seeing him. He's your brother-in-law.” 

You roll your eyes. “You know what I meant.” 

Yoongi is not someone who hangs around his family too much. Something tells you you won't be seeing him anytime soon. Yeonseok knows that too. 

“Let's not fight, okay?” he sighs, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “We both have different opinions about this but consider this argument done.”

“Is it really done? Because it doesn't feel like it.”

Yeonseok's expression saddens. “Yes. I'm sorry if I said something that hurt you. I didn't mean to initiate or suspect something.”

You're not sure if you truly believe his words. 

But you're also exhausted by this fight. 

“Now come lay in the bed, please. The stress is not good for you and the baby.”

Sighing and shifting on your spot, you join him in the bed. Though you stay on your side, slowly turning off the light as he does the same.

Yeonseok's jealousy could be justified. At the end, you did have sex with Yoongi and even if that was the agreement, it does make things harder. Even after it's over. 

However, something tells you this is far from over. It's the beginning of something you can't name yet. 

The first argument starts expectedly, at least that's how you would define it. Surprisingly, it hasn't happened right after the latest fiasco at Min's house. Yeonseok has been trying to be a good husband, happily ignoring the argument that involved his brother. Mostly busy with running the family's company, he tried to take you out whenever he could or just tried to spend more time with you. He hasn't missed any appointments you had, always beaming at the baby's scan with a widest smile.

But it was just a matter of time before things would go downhill and you know what exactly it would be.

Your husband has been needy, in ways you absolutely understand. Realizing his touch doesn't feel like it used to, you wouldn't let things get far other than simple caressing. Sex is natural in marriage and you had lot of it, even before you decided to start a family only to find out heartbreaking news.

Every time you would end any implication of lust or sex, he didn't comment on it but you could feel his stare and imagine the process of his thoughts. You would be frustrated too. 

Actually you are. Mainly with yourself.

You can't give him what he craves for and the list of excuses gets thinner and thinner. It has gotten so thin that it raises even more suspicion and frustration on your husband's part. Do you blame him? Hell no. You're not sure you would be able to go months without intimacy, especially if your husband would give you a cold shoulder. Naturally, you would think there is a problem.

Now is there?

Yes. A big one.

How can you explain to your husband that you don't crave his touch? Just the thought of it makes you shudder in so much discomfort that it makes you sad. Fuck. You even thought about satisfying him with a single handjob or blowjob but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. It sounds twisted.

And sex is much more than just the idea to satisfying your needs. It has always been in your relationship. That's what differs between your marriage and the simple act of sex you had with Yoongi.

“This is getting ridiculous.”

It is. You agree with him.

Once again, you can't blame him for acting like this. He tried to be nice, asked if you're okay, if there's something wrong. But your answer would always be the same.

“I'm okay. I'm just not in the mood, must be the hormones. I'm sorry.”

Fuck. You know it's more than just some hormones. You barely know you're pregnant. Your pregnancy symptoms aren't showing anymore and anything extraordinary doesn't have to automatically scream “pregnancy” too. 

But you often caress your small bump that's mostly visible in the evenings. Or maybe you're just bloated from all the snacks you eat before bedtime. Bonding with your unborn baby has been your current key to happiness. As much as you feel miserable and often lonely, despite having a loving husband next to you every night, whenever you would look down at your belly and think about what they will look like, who they would become, you suddenly don't feel alone at all.

No matter what happens, you have the baby. Your baby.

“Yeon–”

“No, I don't want to hear it. No more excuses, Y/N. I have been patient and you know that. I'm not someone who would ever force you to have sex, but you barely let me touch you and it's been months!” 

You just finished eating dinner, one you prepared for him after he came back home from work. But now you feel like vomiting any second. No pregnancy symptoms though. Just your guilt and the fact that you know. You know that what he's saying is right.

Tears well up in your eyes. Nothing could make this right. There's nothing you could do to prevent this long awaited topic.

Yeonseok scans your face, noticing the sadness and vulnerability and his hands itching to get closer to you, to hold you tight and tell you everything's going to be fine. To tell you not to cry because it breaks his heart to see you crying. However, he knows this needs to be discussed and he can't continue to live in this marriage with zero answers. Or answers that sound nothing but lies. 

“I'm sorry.”

Voice cracking, you stare at your husband in guilt and shame which makes it hard for him to look at you. He hates seeing you like this.

“No, Y/N.” he shakes his head, “Don't apologize but give me a proper answer. A reason. Is it your pregnancy? Do you not feel like having sex because of it? Or is there more to it? Maybe we should go to a couple's therapy or ask your doctor if it's normal. We can search for answers together.”

He's caring.

He's trying to find a solution meanwhile you mentally shake your head at everything he says. You don't need a doctor when you know exactly what's wrong. You know the exact reason (or more like reasons) why you don't want to have sex with your husband. 

“No, it's not that.” you speak, voice weak and tired.

You're standing in the middle of your dining room, a kitchen island separating you from your husband as you're happy for this obstacle and distance at the moment.

“Then what is it?” he exclaims, trashing his arms in the air before they slap against his sides frustratedly. “Communication has never been a problem between us, Y/N. But now… I feel like I don't know you. You're different.”

He's being open, yet you feel your heart cracking as his words sound like an insult. Though that's crazy because he's nowhere near insulting you.

And when he goes on and on about not understanding you, saying the same words over and over again, something cracks in you with every word he says until you snap.

“Because I feel guilty!”

Admitting it out loud brings a beat of silence, Yeonseok's mouth shutting as he looks genuinely speechless. 

“How can I have sex with my husband when I had sex with your brother?” Your voice cracks again, something changing in his expression before he frowns. 

“I thought we were way past this.” 

“Well, we aren't.” you bite back. 

“So what? For the rest of our marriage and lives we won't have sex? Y/N, you knew what you were getting into. We agreed to it. You agreed to it! I was the last one who agreed to it, you told me you're okay, you said–”

“I know!” you yell, your hands slightly shaking as you grip the kitchen's counter for support. “I know.” you say more gently. 

“I don't see any solution here, Y/N.”

He hasn't used your name so many times before. It only shows how angry and frustrated he is. Preferably frustrated at you. 

“I didn't know I would feel this way, Yeonseok. How should I have known?” you raise your voice, voicing out your own frustration while his features don't soften. They turn even more stern. 

“What exactly is your plan, then? Huh? We are married, Y/N. You can't expect me–”

“To wait?” you cut him off, “Is sex what you want? Let's go to the bedroom then. I will let you fuck me. Come on.” 

You're frustrated, angry at yourself and you know this is not something you truly want. In the end, you know you wouldn't be able force yourself to have sex with him right now. Or anytime soon. You just can't. There is too much going on for you to do that. You wouldn't force yourself anyway.

As you make your way to him, in the midst of your sentence, Yeonseok shakes his head and holds his hands up. “Stop. You know I don't want that.”

“What do you want?” you ask, standing close to him as you stare into his tired face. 

This is ruining both of you.

“I want us to be how we were.”

That single sentence makes you almost choke up, sobs wanting to get out of your mouth but you harshly bite the inside of your cheek. 

“I don't know if that's possible. Not after everything.”

He opens his mouth but no words come out. 

“I will sleep in the guest's room tonight. I think we both need to cool down to properly talk about this.”

You're escaping the confrontation again, you know that but you're physically and mentally exhausted. Thinking of the baby and yourself, you need to rest and take your mind off this. If that's possible.

“No.” 

Yeonseok stops you with his voice booming in the room. 

“I will take the guest room. You stay in the bedroom, the bed's bigger there.” 

The bed in the guest room is large enough for two people, not mentioning it is for you alone. Both of you know that. Yet he still chose to let you sleep in your bedroom. It makes you even more sad now.

And he leaves, brushes past you as you two remain the most distant you've ever been. Your marriage and relationship is slowly but surely crumbling down.

It's safe to say you haven't slept well. As soon as the main exhaustion wore off, you were awake, tossing in the big and cold bed. Yeonseok kept his word and stayed in the guest room, which made you wonder if he's got trouble sleeping as well. 

With having the whole night to think, even though it wasn't the right time to be thinking, you couldn't help yourself but consider every option you have. You couldn't help yourself but to think – if you never decided to go with the decision, you wouldn't be here and your marriage would go well. Maybe you and Yeonseok having kids wasn't planned for you. Maybe you should've lived the rest of your lives with no kids. Maybe after a while, Yeonseok would consider adoption.

But all of those are what if scenarios. No one knows if your marriage wouldn't suffer because of it later on. 

You had those kinds of thoughts the whole night and by the time you woke up, it was almost lunchtime. Yeonseok was not at home, something you discovered after finally getting out of the room and walking around the apartment for a good half an hour. No sounds of anyone else being here were heard, so you went to check the guest room just to find it empty. 

It's Saturday and Yeonseok has no work.

He wanted to take you out today, if you remember correctly. Not that you mind. After what happened yesterday, going somewhere out and acting like everything is fine is the least of the things you want to do. 

When one of your friends calls you, you have to hold your tears back when she not only asks about you, but Yeonseok as well. 

“Are you guys doing well?”

The single question makes you choke up on your sobs, she quickly understands there is something going on. So you tell her you don't want to talk about it right now. Luckily she understands and tries to take your mind off it. After an hour of talking and trying to laugh with her, the call ends and you're left alone all over again.

You've no idea what crosses your mind when you're trying to binge-watch the newest reality show, but you find yourself reading your old messages with Yoongi. Most of them are just dates and time, but hold a significant memory.

Even though you haven't slept well, you came up with the only solution you could find. With Yeonseok not being present, you weighed your decision and options. It's not going to be easy but you have this feeling you need to at least try. 

He comes back around dinner time. Well, a little after that.

You expect him to come back wasted, or merrily drunk because you've never gone through this kind of situation and never had an argument this heavy. He's not the type to get drunk though, yet you expect him to do things most men would do.

However, he's completely sober when he joins you in the living room, barely giving you a glance before his eyes stop at you for a split second. You decide to speak first, judging by his stance he had no intention to speak at all. 

“Can we talk?”

He bites back any bitter remark, simply staring at you before he offers a simple yet distant; “Okay.”

He doesn't sit nor join you on the couch, lingering at the end of it as he waits for you to speak. Mustering the right courage and ignoring your fastly beating heart, you lick your dry lips as you let out those painful words.

“We should take a break.”

Silence.

And then.

“What?” he breathes out.

“We should take a break.” you repeat.

He stares and then he sits on the edge of the couch, holding the arm rest for dear life as he looks shocked. And scared? 

“What exactly do you mean by that? We are married, Y/N.”

“I know that,” you tell him slowly, looking at him a little sternly. Of course you know you're married. Does he think you're stupid? “And… we need a break. From everything. From each other. We both need to think.”

“Think?” He sounds shocked. “But you do plan to get back together, right?”

“I… don't know.” you tell him honestly. A break means many things. 

But you both need to figure out where you stand and what you want to do with your marriage. You had a lot to think about. You're pregnant now. And to be a single mom sounds scary. But you can't be in a marriage that's not bringing you any joy. There are many issues you both have and you can't bring a baby into it. No matter how scary the thought of being a single mom is. For all you know, Yeonseok could easily kick you in the ass and say the kid is not his. You would end up divorced with a baby and no father near. 

You're still not sure if this is the right decision, but you have to try.

“But we're expecting a baby. You really want to do this now?”

“And when? When not now?” you question him, frowning. “Don't think this is easy for me either. I'm the one who's pregnant Yeonseok. You could easily divorce me and leave me alone with the baby.”

“Why would I do that?” 

Because you're not a biological father.

You can't say it. It's not fair to him. He is the father. You discussed it. Who cares about the biological side? But there's nothing stopping him from dropping his title of father. The baby is not born yet, no birth certificate has been done yet and won't be until the baby is here.

All you've got in him is trust that he wouldn't do it. Never in a million years you would've thought you would be in this position. Both of you. 

“I don't know. I guess we need to figure that out. I just know I need some time alone.”

“Time alone for what?”

“To think,” you respond with a frown. “This is not easy for me either. But I can't be in a marriage where things don't work, Yeonseok. I know it's not your fault,”

It is not. He tried to be the best husband he could be. 

“It's all on me. And for your sake, and mine, I need to do this.”

“Okay,” he says after a while. “So what now? Are we going to pretend we are roommates? I don't think I'm fully grasping your vision.”

“I'm gonna move out.”

Yeonseok starts choking on his spit as soon as you say it. “M-move out? Woah, that makes it even more serious and official. Where would you go?”

“I'm still working, partly but I am. I've got some saved-up money.”

“That's not right, Y/N. This apartment is ours. Your name is on it too.”

“I know, but I need to gather my thoughts and be alone.”

“Okay, then I'm moving out.”

“Seok, no.”

He frowns. “No. We have one small apartment in the city. I can stay there.”

You don't want him to be the one that moves out. You're the one who came up with the idea. It doesn't sound fair. Makes you feel like a bigger asshole. 

“What does this mean? We're broken up? Are we together? Are we divorcing?” 

You don't know. 

“Let's just say we're broken up for now. We both need some time off. Some time to think.”

He stays silent before letting out a bitter chuckle. “I can't believe this.”

“Seok–”

“No. I gave you everything and you're leaving me.”

“We talked about this. I told you I need–”

“And what about what I need?!” he exclaims, standing up as you flinch. “I went to such lengths to keep this marriage perfect. I gave you everything I possibly could. I gave you house, luxury–”

“I never asked for any of that!” You stand up too, frowning at him. “And you know that. I never needed your luxury, Yeonseok. That's not why I married you or fell in love with you.”

“I know, yet I still decided to spoil you. Fuck, I even let my brother to fuck you!”

You're confused. He sounded broken and sad just a moment ago, almost as if he's trying to understand your decision but now, he's just angry and yelling at you.

“Please, don't bring that up.”

“Why not?” he snaps. “Isn't that right? You wanted him to fuck you. You agreed to it so we could start a family and now you're leaving me. Let's be honest Y/N,” 

He sounds so distant. Like a stranger. Even his eyes darken and your heart squeezes painfully. So does your stomach. 

“No one would take care of you like I do. We get divorced and then what? Co-parent? Or you're going to leave me and be a single mother? Nobody would ever want a single mother.”

Tears fall down your cheeks but he continues, staring at you without flinching as he spits out venom that slowly digs into every fiber of your body. 

He just told you minutes ago that he wouldn't leave you alone with a baby. He made it clear he still wants to be a father no matter what. But considering everything he's spitting out, it's like he's trying to intimidate you.

Everything is a shock right now.

You stand there, crying and listening to him and his scenarios that are supposed to scare you. To show you what a good life you have with him. And for a second, you don't recognize him. You can't believe you married this man. But isn't this your fault? You've brought this inside him. 

“Stop.” you whisper. “Just stop!” you scream. 

He breathes heavily, glaring at you like you're the biggest enemy. You feel out of place. Like you don't belong here. 

“Leave or I will.”

“You have nowhere to go.” he scoffs.

Your eyebrows shoot up before you turn around. No things with you, just your bag where you quickly toss your phone and wallet as you slip your shoes. Yeonseok is hot on your heels, doing nothing to stop you as you simply watch.

You take your things with you and slam the door shut. The door doesn't open but you don't linger around to wait for anything. Wiping the tears with the back of your hand, you rush to the car and bite back any tears that want to spill out. You need to get out of this place, drive safely so you don't harm yourself and the baby. And then you can cry all you want.

It was stupid of you to leave without any of your stuff. But it was the least of your worries and in the heat of the moment, you just had to get out of that place. Being there next to Yeonseok was suffocating. And the thought of it still is.

You park in front of a familiar building, its state not looking any better than you can remember. Who would've thought you would be back? Certainly not you.

But after sitting in your car that you parked in an empty parking lot in front of an already closed grocery store, Yeonseok words echoed in your mind. 

You have nowhere to go.

It's not that true actually.

You could easily call one of your friends. But that would mean explaining them things and you want to avoid that right now. Plus, they would be the first thing on Yeonseok's mind if he were looking for you. 

Will he? You're not sure. 

You never had an argument like this and it's hard to say what he's going to do. But as of now, you want to be as far away from him as possible.

You thought not taking anything with you besides your wallet, phone and bag was stupid, but it's certainly not as stupid as you coming here. Why here out of all people? Why him?

He probably doesn't want anything to do with you, wants to distance from the drama as much as possible. Can you blame him? No. A part of you feels guilty for coming here. And nervous too. Is he even here? 

Silently hoping he is, you make your way to the tattoo shop where its walls hold dozens of memories shared between you and him. But none of that is important right now. Before you can change your mind, you deliver a few soft knocks on the door. 

There is no sound, no buzzing or chatter that could tell you there are people inside but the door looks like they can hold a sound or two. Much to your luck, the door opens shortly after and an unfamiliar face pops out of the door frame.

“Hello?” 

He looks surprised to see you here, or maybe it's the weird expression you're holding that is somewhere looking like it's the end of the world between a massive need to cry your eyes out. However, you haven't cried yet so your eyes aren't watery nor red. You haven't seen yourself and you only hope you don't look as half bad as you feel.

But he still sends a bright smile your way. He does look kind of cute, definitely younger than you or Yoongi. Or maybe it's the blond hair and clear skin that make him look so youthful.

“How can I help you?” He offers a second after, relaxing a little as you catch a glimpse of the space behind him. You're surprised to see the place almost empty and an unsettling feeling grips your stomach.

“Hi,” you breathe out, “Is Yoongi here?”

“Ah, Yoongi is no longer working here. He moved out of this place, I'm renting it now.” he explains and you dryly gulp at the new information.

“Oh.” 

The guy checks your face, tilting his head to the side for a moment as he studies your appearance. 

“Um, but he gave me the address of his new tattoo shop. He might be there, if you wanna check?” he questions and your head snaps in his direction. 

“Yeah, that would be awesome. Thanks.” you offer him a slight smile as he lifts his point finger in the air before he disappears inside. 

He comes back not even a minute after, a yellow square paper in his hands as he gives you Yoongi's new address of his workplace. 

“Umm, I should've asked sooner but you're not like, I don't know how to say this…” 

You raise your brow at him.

“You're not… some psycho or something, right? He would kill me if he knew I just gave his address to someone.”

Chuckling, you open your mouth. “Chill. We are family.” you explain, not wanting him to worry. Technically you didn't lie, so there's nothing wrong with your response even though it does feel weird to say it. 

It's Yeonseok connecting you two. Well, realistically there's also the baby but that doesn't exactly make you  family. 

The guy visibly breathes out a relieved sigh and luckily doesn't question you any further as you thank him for the last time, bidding a quick goodbye. 

When you arrive at the scribbled address your navigation so kindly navigated you to, you park your car nearby on the opposite side of the road. You have to admit. This neighborhood and the building itself looks amazing, way more safer and in a better state. It's a complex of one big building with multiple shops. From a hair salon, some fast foods to a tattoo shop – which you hope that's where Yoongi is.

There's cool graffiti art on the wall of the mentioned tattoo shop, the name yet to be announced. You admire the art while you walk before you push the door inside. Like you expected, the place is spacious and there's an entryway. There's no chair or machines you walk right into, there's an actual reception and a bunch of boxes surrounding the place.

And you feel like an idiot for coming inside like some intruder, especially when there are people inside, chatting and laughing at the black reception table. Of course, they notice you right away and their heads are turned your direction in a split second.

You don't recognize any of them, at least not at first glance but that's before you recognize the woman from Yoongi's old shop. Yoongi's friend. Her hair is black and short now, a couple of new tattoos adoring her exposed thighs. 

Her being here means Yoongi is around too. Or at least she could lead you to him.

But this hunt for Yoongi is starting to make you feel ridiculous. If he's not here, you will just have to figure out something on your own. Maybe you should sleep at a hotel or something, and not bother anyone else. 

“Hi, sorry for barging in.” You even sound like an idiot.

However, the group looks curious about your presence, some of them shoot you a bright grin which eases down your nerves a little. 

“Hey. You're Yoongi's sister-in-law, right?” The woman speaks up, her eyes scrunched for a second before they go back to their normal shape as she recognizes you.

“Yeah. Is he here?” you ask, shifting on your spot as you ignore the man eyeing you up and down with a little smirk.

He's got a few tattoos himself, the one on his neck catching your attention the most. However you don't let your eyes linger for too long.

“Yoongi, you've got a visitor!” She yells, tilting her head to the back where there's something that looks like a hall but it's too dark there to tell any more details. Even from where you're standing, they're mostly in your eyesight. 

None of them make any sound, simply watching you and giving Yoongi's friend curious looks. Feeling a little bit awkward, you take the time to look around instead. There's nothing much to see. Boxes and unpacked stuff everywhere as everything smells of…. Novelty. 

Following footsteps catch everyone's attention, including yours as he comes out of the dark hall, fully exposing himself to the bright lights of his new tattoo studio and a set of curious eyes. Eyes peeling off the floor to look at his friends, a look of annoyance and confusion crosses on his smooth face. Something about finally seeing him and being in the same room as him once again, makes your heart pick up the pace. You ascribe it to your nervosity and sudden regret of coming here. 

“What?” he grumbles, silver hair slightly messy as his skin glows – or maybe it's sweat because he does seem to look a little tired. Judging by looking around, it seems like he's been working to get this place together. 

His friend raises her brow and points your direction, all attention back to you while your eyes stay solely on Yoongi. You see it from the very beginning. From him frowning in confusion, staring at his friends before he follows the direction her finger is pointing at – you – until his eyes fall on your figure standing a few meters away from everyone. 

His frown deepens before a look of surprise makes it onto his face while his mouth opens – very slightly – agape.

It's awkward. All of his friends – or whoever they are – are completely quiet, just watching you two like you're the most interesting part of the day.

“Hi,” you speak up, hugging your arms which totally reveals your uncertainty of coming here. Your usual collected and confident self is gone now, much to Yoongi's surprise. “Can we talk?”

“I don't know about our Yoongi, but you can talk to me anytime you want.” One of the guys says with a grin, his words causing you to send him an unappreciative glare. He obviously thinks it's a joke but you hate guys like that.

“Cut it out, Jimin,” Yoongi scolds him, sending him a second long glare before his eyes are back on you. “Come here. We can talk in the back.” Yoongi tells you and you get moving, not wanting his friends to stare at you any longer. 

Do they know? Did Yoongi tell them? Is that why they stare at you as if you were an alien? 

As soon as you get close to Yoongi, he motions to the back with his arm as the woody familiar scent of him surrounds the space around him. Yoongi sends a last glare to his friend or all of them – you don't know – before he leads you to the mentioned back. The hall is dark but not as dark as it appeared from where you were standing. 

The back door is open and bright, revealing all the equipment a tattoo artist needs. There are empty boxes, some of them still unopened, lingering on the floor as he closes the door behind you. You look around, sensing the familiarity as Yoongi has stuck to his previous color and managed to have this place dark. But it doesn't look like some dungeon or creepy dark tattoo studio. Instead, it looks even more modern and chic – and you know it's going to look even better once it's all done. There is a long and wide mirror to be installed, leaning against the wall with a sheer bag on it protecting the glass. 

But that's not why you came here. Therefore you don't look around for too long, turning around to Yoongi as soon as he closes the door and motions for you to sit down on a brand new couch. It's similar to the one he owned in his old studio. The only difference is that it's not black but light cream – however the leather looks comfortable and expensive. 

Sitting down on the comfortable piece of furniture, Yoongi sits down on one of the chairs, sprawling his legs rather tiredly as he stretches his neck with a mild frown. “What are you doing here?”

He doesn't sound hostile but confused.

“I'm sorry. I didn't know where to go. I went to your old place but some guy told me you're no longer there, so he gave me this address. I hope that's okay.” you explain quickly, rubbing your knees as your palms get sweaty with each second. 

“That's fine,” he assures you casually. “Did something happen?”

Staring at his brown eyes, you're only more confirmed what a stupid idea it was to come here. What's he got to do with your personal problems? He looks fucking confused, as he should. Probably wondering why you always keep coming back to him for some reason. 

Yoongi might not know all of you, but he's not stupid or not observant enough to not notice when you're acting weird. When it's clear there's something wrong. 

“Me and… your brother had an argument,” you start, staring at your knees. “I suggested we should take a break and well, he didn't exactly take it well.”

Yoongi leans forward, slowly and patiently as his frown deepens. “You broke up with him?”

“We are married. I don't think we can break up.” you try to joke, chuckling shakily as Yoongi's expression doesn't move which makes your grin drop.

“You know what I mean. Did he do something to you?” Yoongi asks, an awaited question finally spoken as his eyes quickly scans you from head to tone. He sounds unsure, not thinking his brother would be able to hurt anyone physically, especially his wife. But he still makes sure, it's a natural response. 

“Apart from getting angry and telling me not so nice things, no. He wouldn't touch me like that.” you say, wincing at the thought of it. 

Yoongi slowly nods, eyes never escaping you. “I don't understand… What happened then? Why would you want to take a break?”

“Because I can't be with him.” Your response is quick, mouth shutting right away as Yoongi's brows lift up. 

Great…

“At least not right now. I just need some time to think. Our marriage and relationship is not what it used to be and it got me confused. I can't keep doing this to him and he expects things from me, which I understand but I also need to put myself first too, I can't suffer and everything got so fucking messy–”

“Hey, hey,” He butts in, leaning his head toward you as he makes sure you look at him. Once you do, he continues. “Breathe. Okay?”

Wow, easy to be said. 

He wants to ask why you came to him? What's he got to do with your and his brother's issues? The questions sit on the tip of his tongue and he's ready to ask them, still straightforward as he is but then a silent sob leaves your mouth and he freezes, watching you shake your head. 

“I'm sorry. I didn't know where else to go.” You repeat your previous words and he feels bad.

He's not great with handling other people's emotions, fuck, he's not the best person to comfort someone and most of the time he doesn't know what to say. This time it's not any different but it doesn't mean he's fine watching other people going through stuff. He's not as emotionless as people make him out to be – or as he often portrays himself to be. 

“It's okay.”

“It's not,” You sob, finally breaking in tears. “You don't get it, Yoongi. One moment he said he's going to be the baby's father and then the next he almost hints at the possibility of me ending up alone. I don't want to be a single mom. I can't do this. I didn't go through this just for this to happen.”

You cry and Yoongi feels uncomfortable, not sure what to do as he listens to your cries and tries to make out your words. 

Deep down, you know if you haven't said anything to Yeonseok and haven't proposed a break, none of this would happen. But your marriage and relationship would suffer in different ways. You're just trying to get this right, to deal with this somehow but it's fucking tough when you're all alone.

“How can he say that? He wanted to have kids too.” 

He says kids in general. He avoids talking about the baby that's already growing inside your womb. 

“He can't possibly leave you all alone to deal with… everything alone, right?”

You wipe your nose with your sleeve as you let out a bitter chuckle. You look at Yoongi, eyes and cheeks all wet and teary. “The baby hasn't been born yet. There are no documents signed. If he decides not to be the father, he can. DNA tests will prove he's not and I'm–” All alone. Sniffling, you stop yourself from saying.

“If he does that, he's an even bigger asshole than I thought he is.” Yoongi scoffs but you don't pay attention to those words too much, wiping your cheeks. “Do you, uh, want some water or something?”

You chuckle, shaking your head.

“I'm sure he just had a tough time dealing with the whole break thing. He loves you, Y/N. He always wanted to have kids. He is gonna come back.”

Is that what you want though?

“I don't know if that's what I want.”

“What?” Yoongi deadpans. 

“I, like I told you, our marriage is not what it used to be.”

You don't want to get to the whole topic of you feeling guilty all over again. You know the last time you talked about it to Yoongi, or more precisely, the last time you decided to end things out of guilt, he didn't really take it well. Something tells you if you told him the whole truth, he wouldn't take it well either. What would you even tell him when you're confused yourself? 

“Okay.” he says unsurely.

He leans back against the couch, letting a sigh escape his lips as you two sit in silence. It's awkward. He doesn't want to ask any more questions, thinking if you wanted to tell him you probably would. But one question that has already been asked still lingers in the air and after a moment of silently watching you, he can't help it but ask you again.

“Y/N, really, what are you doing here? I'm not kicking you out or anything but–is there a reason why you came to me?”

One thing is sure, you feel even worse after he says it and once he looks the horrification on your face, he opens his mouth again to justify. 

“You got into a fight with my brother, you said you're taking a break. Did you pack some of your things with you? Where are you even going to stay?”

He hopes you didn't come here because of that. 

The last thing Yoongi needs is for his brother to be knocking on his door or be involved any more than he already is. Just the fact you came here made him slightly involved and he doesn't like that. He was doing fine. His business is going good and finally, Yoongi is out of debts – thanks to the money Yeonseok gave him in a big exchange. He didn't do it for free though.

After you decided to break things off which ended up being a success for you too in the end, he thought he would never have to deal with this shit again. But here you are, cheeks stained with tears and in a state Yoongi would never imagine for you to be in. 

“I had to leave in the middle of our fight. I didn't bring any stuff with me. I wasn't thinking…” You shake your head at your own stupidity while Yoongi gives you a pitiful look.

“Look, let me be straight with you. I wouldn't want to get involved in your personal problems with my brother. I'm glad I don't have to face him again and this thing we did–is way past us.” He tries to explain, mentally cringing how weird he sounds but he's only trying to voice out his thoughts. 

You gape at him. A part of you understands him but the other is hurt how he doesn't care. Why would he? What did you expect of him? You know what… you expected him to be here for you, to maybe help you or assure you everything's going to be fine. Like a friend. 

But you only realize he never was.

And you only hate yourself for it, because you made yourself to believe that in a way, he cared for you and wasn't so careless as Yeonseok pictured him – along with their parents. 

“Don't worry, Yoongi. I'm planning to stay at a hotel.” You sound a little bitter but Yoongi doesn't comment on it.

The thing is, Yeonseok offered to move to another place but since you left in the middle of the argument, one that wouldn't probably end if you didn't leave, but right now you're not so sure. Is he still there? Where can you go grab your things? Are you even staying at your place or you will have to move out? Where will you go? You don't know anything.

It's a lot for your mind and body. You just want to be somewhere safe where you could possibly cry yourself to sleep.

“I just don't know what you want from me, Y/N.” Yoongi reminds you with an edge to his tone. “You can't come here and talk about being a single mom. What do you expect me to do, Y/N?”

You open your mouth, staring at him in disbelief. 

“I don't expect you to do anything, Yoongi.” you bite back and he only scoffs. 

“You and Yeonseok were willing to do anything to have this baby. You gotta figure it out.”

“I gotta figure it out.” you scoff under your breath.

“Yes, Y/N.” 

God, you suddenly hate when he says your name. He sounds so stern and frustrated. He has never spoken to you like this. 

“Or what did you expect me to do?”

You hate how accusing he suddenly sounds and it makes you frown as you look at him with a glare. 

“I don't know what I expected but this was certainly not it. It was a mistake to come here.”

“I think you know.” He successfully ignores your remark but something tells you he definitely agrees with you. He doesn't want you here. Like he said, he doesn't want to get involved and that's a clue enough for you. But you stay glued to your place, ready for more throws from him.

“What?” you deadpan.

“Oh, come on. How more obvious can you get? Yeonseok starts talking shit about not being the father and you come to me,” he says firmly, suddenly standing up as his hand goes to his silver hair before he lets go. “I don't want kids, Y/N, I told you that. I'm not your kid's father.”

Every word he says is like a knife digging into your heart. Most importantly, you realize what he must be thinking. He questioned your motive for coming here and now he thinks you came here because you expected him to offer you god knows what. Apparently to take Yeonseok's place just in case he decides not to be a father after all.

He got it all wrong. 

Your mistake and your own confusion has brought you into the mess. And Yoongi accusing you of something that's not even true hurts as fuck. And you could try to explain it to him but the truth is – his words hurt. They hurt so much that you can't bring yourself to explain anything.

However, his words are harsh regardless of how cold he sounds to be talking about a kid he helped to beget. 

You stand up too, glaring at him through your teary eyes as you furiously wipe your cheeks. 

“That's not why I came here at all. That's not what I want from you.” you tell him firmly despite your voice shaking. 

“Really? Because–”

“You know what, fuck you.” You don't let him finish as you spring out of the room, not caring how harshly you open the door as you make it past his friends.

They stop in the midst of their conversation, not hanging around the reception table this time but unpacking some of the boxes as they stare at you while you storm out of the shop. Fuck Min Yoongi. Fuck all of them. 

You've managed to dig yourself even a deeper hole with the Min brothers.

[moonlightperseus]

wistful sighs (across phone lines) [6x08 coda / 597 words]

“So how was the school dance?”

“Hello to you too, Buck,” Eddie responds with an amused laugh.

Buck rolls his eyes, something that doesn’t translate well over a phone call so he adds dryly, “Hello Eddie—how was the school dance? What did Christopher say about it?”

“He said he had fun, but I’m sure the details you can ask him yourself when you come over for dinner tomorrow—honestly I think he tired himself out tonight, he went to bed without any of the attempts at bargaining for just a little more time.”

“Oh, actually, I wanted to ask—are you cool with rescheduling? Maddie and Chim want to give house-hunting another try after Maddie’s shift tomorrow and asked if I could watch Jee Yun again.”

“Babysitting again, huh?” Buck can almost hear the smirk and eyebrow raise in Eddie’s voice. “Sure you’re up for that?”

“I just wasn’t properly prepared the first time, I have baby gates now—and I’ve hidden all the toilet paper.”

Eddie laughs, and the sound brings warmth to Buck’s chest even from across the phone, “we can reschedule dinner—or maybe Chris and I can swing by tomorrow night with food, give you a little relief from dealing with the terrible twos alone—if you want?”

The warmth spreads its way up to Buck’s face, no doubt with it bringing a light blush, he ducks his head to hide it even though he’s completely alone in his apartment. “Uh, yeah, that sounds great, but I’ll warn you—she’s big into throwing things right now, including her food.”

“I kinda missed that stage with Christopher, so I’m pretty sure it’ll be like—karma—if I get food thrown at me by your niece.”

Buck snorts, “Just remember that tomorrow when you’re trying to get mashed potato out of your hair.”

“No mashed potatoes, got it. Any guidelines on the choice of vegetable?”

“Pretty sure Maddie and Chim will drop off food for her again but uh—apparently she’s really into brussels sprouts right now?”

“Oh, so she is related to you after all.”

“I’ll have you know I was a very normal kid who didn’t like eating vegetables and it wasn’t until my twenties that I became the vegetable aficionado that stands before you today.”

“We’re not even in the same zip code right now.” Eddie points out, amusement laced in his voice.

“Semantics.”

There’s a pause, and Buck’s pretty sure that Eddie’s rolling his eyes and he can’t find it in him to care.

“So does like six work for you?”

“Six sounds perfect—they’re gonna drop Jee off around three thirty so hopefully she can tire herself out a little bit before you get here.”

“Is that code for you’re gonna be utterly exhausted?” Eddie teases.

“Shut up,” Buck huffs, grateful for once that he’s alone in his apartment so that no one can see the giant dopey smile on his face, “I’m not the one who fell asleep at the table at the station the other day.”

“It was two am—we were on a twenty-four-hour shift! And I only dozed off for a few minutes.”

“Whatever you say, Diaz.”

Eddie huffs softly, and Buck can almost perfectly picture him shaking his head in that slow, fond manner he does.

When the silence stretches on a little too long for a normal casual phone conversation, Buck glances at the clock on his stove and lets out a little wistful sigh. “I should let you go—before you fall asleep on me again. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replies, his own voice sounding almost wistful in its softness, “see you tomorrow.”

[heylookliisten]

been on a dad!eddie kick lately and just have some thoughts

eddie would wear those cheesy dad t-shirts with pride. he’d style them by adding some rips, bleach dying them, or cutting off the sleeves. people assume he’s wearing another band shirt but upon closer look it’s a black t-shirt that says something like “CERTIFIED DILF” in some metal font

if eddie had a daughter he would absolutely let them style his hair the same way as theirs. if she has pigtails with a fluffy pink bow, eddies rolling up to band practice with the same do. braids with butterfly clips and bedazzled stones? eddie just found his look for the next campaign. he’d want a photo each time this happens and you make a little scrapbook about it

speaking of matching, eddie would absolutely help make a battle vest for his kid for every stage of life. it’ll start when they’re around 2/3 years old and eddie will have it be a mix of child appropriate accessories along with a few that speak out to you and him. he keeps each one and reminisces about it when they’re older with a teary smile

eddie wants to do EVERYTHING with his kid. no matter how small, big, close, or far it is eddie will find a way to make whatever they want to do happen. he didn’t have many good memories with his parents and got a late start with wayne so he doesn’t want his kid to feel the same emptiness. it’s also a way to reassure that fact that he’s always going to be there for them

the absolute king of throwing birthday parties. eddie is so creative and resourceful that he can take the smallest of gatherings and turn it into the birthday of the year. everyone is always impressed and take bets on if eddie can make it even better than last years. he’s very thoughtful with gifts as well and spends weeks planning the whole endeavor

while eddie don’t necessarily make it a rule, he likes to have family dinner once a week. its easy to have it more than that when the kid is smaller but when they’re older he makes the effort to at least try for it. he’s big on not conforming to stereotypical ideals but this one hits home a little differently. he never had a good family aside from wayne and with their conflicting schedules they spent more time apart than together. when they managed to share a meal eddie realized how much it means to just even be in the same presence as him for awhile and wants that same comfort with his kid

the type of dad who plots alongside his kid to gain his partners attention. you’re cooking breakfast but your kid is needy for your attention? well guess what so is eddie. while your child runs into the kitchen to wrap their arms around your leg, eddie is rushing right behind them to wrap his arms around your waist. eddie gives you a sloppy kiss on your cheek to coax you out of cooking? your child gives on on your leg. he 100% gives into his kids antics and your kid can’t help but do the same

he learns to play all their favorite songs on guitar, no questions asked. if they’re big into the thundercats or reading rainbow, he’s learning the music so he can easily please them when it’s not on. when they’re older, he’ll obviously push for them to be into metal but will learn pop songs if they were really into it. his heart soars when his kid asks if eddie can teach them. he immediately brings them to pick out their own guitar