#hey baby want to get damaged irreversibly

[fallout-lou-begas]

who wants to tell her

[sadnightforus]

YOU MIGHT BE SLEEPING  (LJY)

biker boyfriend!juyeon x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: In an attempt to surprise you for the 500 days anniversary, he took you on a ride to his favorite places that are far away from the city, after various complaints from you that you found nothing to do in Seoul. 

WORD COUNT: 3.9K

WARNINGS: none… we reached this point guys (besides the mentioning of Eric being a super rich guy that’s all). too much fluff *insert the crying waterfall emoji because normal emoji does not cut it* 

A/N: don’t know if y’all know this but I was inspired by that one particular fanmade video. the og concept was supposed to have a bad boy vibe but he looks too good in that middle pic so I have to comply with this one instead. so cute, I’m kicking my feet fr. also omg full on fluffy soft fic from me??? I Will Die. 😭😭😭

ALSO THIS IS THE FANMADE VID. 

reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated!

You’re bored of Seoul. 

 Don’t get it wrong, you don’t hate the city at all. But Seoul always has something going on. The streets look amazing during the day and night and there’s modern technology everywhere. Everything seems so fancy and lavish. You’re proud of how far the world has come. 

 Even though it’s incredibly hard to earn a quiet time for yourself since it’s a really busy city and if you want complete silence, you have to block out their own voices. It’s hard to ignore the presence of others when there are loud noises and so many people at once. 

 However, for you, it’s also the city of love.

 You met Juyeon when you both first enrolled into the same college and happened to closely share a semester together due to the duo group work your professor was making you do (and the deadline was well over 2 weeks). Those 2 weeks were blissful, you used to think he was a bit cold and even more so, a bit too full of himself, since he is immediately dubbed as ‘the dancing prince’ and he hangs out with the popular crowd. But your first impressions didn’t matter because he was incredibly nice and polite, and was so helpful when helping you with the project too, be it ideas or just offering to take places in completing the work. And you both ended up getting an A due to the outstanding efforts you put into your work, which you have to thank your amazing partner for. 

 And after the project ended, he still keeps in contact with you, insisting that you’re quite an interesting individual to know and hope to develop a further friendship. A total lie from him because he later admitted that when you both got into a relationship with the saying that by then, he already liked you and he just wanted to see if he has a chance with you. 

 Now back to the present. 

 It’s Saturday and you both are on a semester break. You live with your roommate/coworker and she’s off to work already, leaving you alone in this apartment as it’s your day off today. You were cleaning up your room and wiping off the dust off the furniture when suddenly you received a phone call. You look at your caller ID and you can’t help but smile when you see who it is. 

 So you pick up, pausing your cleaning process so you can talk to him just a little bit. 

“Hi, my pretty baby.” 

 That name never fails to flatter you and make your heart jump out of your chest. 

“Hey there, pretty boy.” 

 You think you do a pretty job concealing your flustered face and tone (rightfully, sue him for reducing you into a mushy lover). Otherwise, you would’ve been so embarrassed if he knew he had done irreversible damage to you. 

“You don’t have any plans for anything today, right?” 

“Why? You wanna take me to one of Eric’s father’s fancy restaurants?” 

“Great idea, actually.” He laughs, humoring you along. It’s no secret that Juyeon loves spoiling you. He had a hard exterior, according to all of your friends and you yourself. But when you guys began dating, they were subjected to the PDA between you two and their opinions on him quickly changed because just who is this guy? And plus, he also likes to take you on a new adventure. 

 Somehow, it makes you feel like a naïve teenage girl who’s dating a bad boy and you always wanted to ask him if he is truly one (even if you know he works part-time as a barista for his parents’ café shop). It’s hard to believe that someone as perfect as him can possibly exist. It’s unbelievable. 

“I was wondering if you’d like to join me for today's exploring.” He shyly explains and you can feel his shy smile tugs through his tone. What have you done in your past life to get a guy like him wrapped around your finger? Whatever you were doing, you’ve done it right. 

“If it’s Seoul, I’ve practically walked through every shady alleyway. It’s no fun.” You whine, your wet cloth cleaning off the dust is long forgotten amidst the phone call between you and your lover. 

“It’s not Seoul. I wanna take you somewhere else.” He keeps it vague and you suspect that he has a surprise for you. 

“Okay, let me clean myself up a bit.” You exclaim, putting down the wet cloth and hanging it up to dry from your bedroom (in your defense, it’s not dirty at all. You have a habit of wiping off your dust often and you definitely don’t have enough time in your hand to clean it right now). 

“Can you pick me up in an hour and a half?” You ask him, strutting around in your room to go to your bathroom to freshen yourself up. 

“You can still show up in sweats and I’d still think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” He says, means every single word of it because he thinks you’re pretty. So goddamn pretty he loses his mind over you and he doesn’t believe that he’s the one who gets to have you all the time. 

“Lee Juyeon, shut up. I think I stink. Do you honestly like it when I’m sweating like a dog?” You make a gagging face while you’re putting on your cleansing foam. 

“The sweats can’t wipe away your beauty.” His reply makes you want to bang your head into the wall so bad. 

 God, he’s such a romantic. 

“I’m showering. You can save that sappiness when you pick me up later.” You furiously blush, trying to get him to end the call so you can get ready to go wherever he leads you to. 

“I’ll see you later then, baby.” 

 And the line is disconnected. 

 You sulk a bit before putting your device back as you snap back to reality. But you’re also beyond excited where he will take you to today. 

 So you divert your attention back onto getting ready and hoping that the new things you’ve been wanting to try out will work. 

“You look absolutely breathtaking.” Is the first thing Juyeon says after he comes to pick you up. 

 You decide to wear a black big cozy jacket, combined with black jeans and white shirt, which goes with his similar casual wear that he chooses. 

 There’s a spark in his eyes as he scams your whole body. A boyish smile yet so much of a shyness ticks behind that expression. He hands you a helmet, to which you still remember that the particular item is a gift from his dad who bought motorcycle tools equipment as a present for his 19th birthday and that includes the helmet you’re holding in your hand. You check to see if it has been unlocked yet. Once you see that it does, you quickly put it on your head, adjusting it properly before locking it and you gently hop onto the vehicle, excited for the ride.

“Are you ready?” He asks, wanting to make sure that you’re seating yourself comfortably before the motorcycle takes off.

“I’m all done.”

 And you hear the engine takes off, as the vehicle takes both of you far away from your place.

 The air feels fresher than usual, the atmosphere and the feelings remind you of the old Hong Kong movies you used to watch with your friends as a teenager. You always dream of doing something wild and adventurous to feel the essence of the ‘neon & loneliness’— something that has been used to precisely describe those types of movies. And now it’s like you’re living your dreams out. 

 If it’s a dream then you don’t want to wake up from it. 

 His soft woody cologne that radiates from his body all makes you feel like everything is in a daze and you’re the main protagonist of those films that you always loved. How did you get so lucky? 

 The motor is being driven further away from the city and you’ve crossed numerous luxurious stores and fancy places as you hold on tight to your lover. You’ve seen different kinds of people today; the sad, the happy, the singles, the couples, the divorced, the kids, teenagers, adults and you think you might’ve driven past celebrities by accident too. 

 Your eyes are trained to watch the road and take your worries off the daily life you’re experiencing today. You think though, instead, it’s making you realize something very precious about life. 

 People can be in a state of anything, regardless of their age. And they’re diverse, they have something to tell. Behind every person, there’s a story that is waiting for a person to uncover those. Uncover the deepest, best and worst parts of themselves. 

 You think you’re lucky that your boyfriend is the most gentle and caring person who always brings out the best part of yourself. Never once had you ever felt as if you were held back or restricted from good opportunities. He always encourages you to chase after your dream, while he steadily works towards his goal. 

 The short breeze through the city now has long escaped. You both are going somewhere unfamiliar, although you’re not sure how exactly familiar he is with where he plans to take you. However, you know better than to doubt him when he is quite literally the very same person with a really great taste in everything.

 Your thoughts do eventually come to a stop as he drives to a gas station and by that time, it’s around 3 and a half in the afternoon. The vehicle’s engine is no longer running after he shuts the power off and you know it’s time you get off the bike.

“I’d like to fill in the tank please.” Is what he says. His honey voice, ever so softly, makes you wonder how people aren’t falling for him already. The staff comes to him immediately and helps fill in the gas as per request. 

“Do you want to buy something?” He turns to ask you. “Or do you need to use the bathroom?”

“Not really.” You respond as you shake your head.

 You both stand while waiting for them to pump the gas and calculate the bill. And when you both are done, he gears up the vehicle to signal that the adventure is nowhere done. You hop on it, excited to see what will be waiting for you.

 You both leave the place, 

 Your boyfriend’s scent soon lures you to sleep, with you being barely able to open your eyes. It hasn’t been that long that you fall asleep together with him, but you both are somehow always away with the college assignments and personal workloads that are being dumped on you. Having him really close for the first time in 3 weeks does nothing but really makes you want to rest up.

 And you think to yourself, hmm, screw that. He’ll wake me up when we arrive at the place.

 Then you lay your head and close eyes as you feel yourself drifting further away to the dreamland that has been long awaited for you.

 You woke up once you felt like you were being carried.

 You didn’t register it until you felt the abnormality of the said body pillow that you’ve been resting on start moving up and going even gradually higher. It’s only then that you open your eyes, consciousness not fully hitting you yet as your exhaustion keeps luring you to the dreamland. However, since you don’t have such a habit of sleeping when you are being moved around, you try your very best to open your eyes and pray that the sunlight will hit your eyes, although it’s unlikely as the sky beams with the color of soft orange and yellow, like a beautiful fire in flames.

“Ju-”

“Shh, baby. Just sleep.” He shushes you, continuing to give you a piggyback ride. You immediately protest and almost go feral and also, almost cause a disturbance to him too.

“I’m wide awake, you can put me down and I can walk.” 

“Nice try, but no.” He chuckles and you can already imagine the most annoying yet such a beautifully crafted boyish grin plastered all over his face. He’s lovely– that’s just who he is.

“But where are you taking me?��� You ask, eyes now can’t close on their own as your sleepiness already wears off from talking earlier.

“You’ll see.”

 And several minutes later, you both reach a part of a town that you’re sure has never been here before. He seems to be lost, with the way he hesitates to take a step further as he walks. 

“But Ju…” You whine. “Can’t you tell where you’re going?” You plead for him to give an answer, you so badly wanted to know what place he will show you this time. 

“Nuh uh.” He shakes his head a bit, still insisting on being mysterious and vague with the direction you’re heading. 

“But will you put me down? It’s uncomfortable being carried when I’m like, awake.” You complain and he finally gives in, sighing as he puts you down and you almost stumble forward and fall as the gravity feels new to you and if your boyfriend wasn’t there to catch you at all, you’d certainly slip by now. 

“Thank you.” You mumble out. 

“You good to go?” He asks, offering you his hand to hold as you busk in a new, unfamiliar place together. His eyes sparkle up, light of hope and love, so much adoration stores up in a gaze of his that belongs to a person that you’re proud to call him yours. 

 You’re losing track of yourself with the way you keep looking at him without a word, like a dumbfounded teenager that has no idea what they should do when they harbor romantic feelings towards their crush. But he lets you, until you gulp down to wet your throat and proceed with the next thing you’re going to say. 

“Yes.” You have a dopey smile on your face. “I can’t wait.”

 And you both take one step, two steps and more steps forward. Until you get inside the mysterious building. 

 Your boyfriend is not a man of many words, but his actions are always sincere. When he speaks, he always expresses his love for you. 

 You can even say that in almost two years of your relationship, you never have to doubt his feelings for you. That’s just how transparent he is. You don’t think you can find a greater love than him.

 With more steps further, you make it past the door and you see many abstract arts and paintings being hung, scattered all across the wall. Each frame and piece, colorfully coming together to make a piece of stories that is waiting to be told. The lines that piece it together, asymmetrically perfect in a way that it never seems to be out of place, although if you separate it, it wouldn’t make much sense to the naked eyes that only saw the remaining pieces and never get the chance to witness the beauty of the completion and harmony that lies in the form of crafts that you see with your own eyes. 

 Similarly, that’s how you feel about your boyfriend. 

 Not many people know him and you always had the impression that he was rather cold and closed off. That’s how he appears to the outsiders. The description of him from fellow classmates and his friends are drastically different because they never get to fully see what he is like as a person. 

 A person who is full of love to give to others, the one who dotes on others and is full of adventures. 

 Life with him is never boring, he brings a new kind of joy in your life. The kind of excitement that is dangerous, but you’ll let him lead you to go anywhere, even if it’s a thousand miles away. You trust him to keep you safe because never once had you been harmed or run into dangers.

 He instructs you to stand in front of him, you do so without a question. He pulls out a silky fabric and you already know what he wants to do– blindfolds you for the surprise. You let him as he carefully wraps the material around your eyes in a gentle manner to ensure that it doesn’t hurt you.

“Hold my hand and follow me.” He speaks to you softly and you nod your head. “I want to show you something.”

In a sight of darkness that is hard to break from, you let him guide you. He’s your light amongst all of this and you know he’ll never let you slip or stray away. With careful steps forwarding on the stairs and going up, further and further and then the floor feels smoother without the anxiety of reckoning,  it only takes a bit to finally realize you’re past the staircase.

 You feel like time freezes and you’re not sure how much time has passed by, although you think it’s not that much. It’s by far, the most anticipated thing for you. 

 Then you hold his hand tighter as he takes you in this unfamiliar place.

 You’re not the only one with so much adoration for your significant other. Your boyfriend is no different from you. 

 For Juyeon, being with you makes him feel like he’s in heaven. There’s no greater feeling than your presence around. 

 You heal a broken part of him that he didn’t know existed until you become the most cherished and frequent presence in his life, which is no doubt, loneliness.

 You’re calming, intelligent and intriguing. You’re an open book, but also, a mystery that he wants to keep uncover. He can lose himself in just studying about you and he wouldn’t care. You’re that someone to him who he trusts, with all of his life.

 When he inherited a motorcycle as a present from his parents in 11th grade, he usually rode it everywhere alone, even when he had friends. He discovered many fascinating locations, hearing every kind of life story from strangers whom he met on the road when he did his little exploring and witnessed people going through many stages of life. He used to watch people flirting and he wished that he had someone else to share his perspective and sightseeing with.

 You came along unexpectedly and stole his heart away. He can barely imagine a life without you now. The things you do to his heart is unhealthy. You’re the sole reason that his burning passion for life doesn’t become something he deeply despises. 

 The once cold seat of the motorcycle is now replaced by the warmth of you. And he wouldn’t want to have it in any other way. 

 He has seen many beautiful things that calm and heal his soul, but none of it were you.

 He thought beauty lies in the empty roads of complete darkness, or constellations and stars in the sky. But it’s clearly you, who is a Venus personified. 

 He’s in love and he’s not hiding it. 

 Which is why he wants to show you this view.

 By stopping in his track as he has reach the final destination, he reaches to slowly the blindfold off your eyes, all while tells you to still your eyes closed and only open under his command. 

 Both of you walk further and further away, with the help of Juyeon who guides you in the desired direction. Cold breeze hits you and you realize now that you’re most likely on the balcony and not in the secured walls of this building. 

“Open your eyes, baby.” 

 You let the light penetrate your vision as the skin that covers your seeing splits apart. 

 The view is breathtaking. 

 The sky turns into a light beat of deep orange, pale blue, deep pink and purple. You see the simplicity, the complexity and something so lively. 

 You see how the sky slowly turns itself into a pitch black, as the colors start to beautifully blend themselves, creating an unforgettable view that spreads through all across the universe from your own eyes. The wind blows slowly, as if to celebrate the magic of your shared happiness with him, which makes the moment even more unreal. 

 The lights that hang from there only intensifies its beauty. 

 You see polaroids of you both together being decorated, some you weren’t aware that the pictures were being taken. There are books and a table for dining that are put together like high end restaurants and you have no doubt that it wasn’t just a one day of work at all. 

“Happy 500 days anniversary.” He tells you, hand gently caressing you. “This house originally belonged to my grandpa. He has since passed it down to me.” He states so ever so softly and you’re shell shocked. 

“He told me that if I find someone special, I should bring them here. Because this house witnesses how my grandma and grandpa love each other and everyday is always special to them. For a long time, I didn’t understand what he meant because the idea of a lover that exists in a lonely person’s story doesn’t make sense. But I met you, my special person. I want this house to witness our love, too.” 

 You have tears brimming in your eyes as you listen to him speak further, all while his gaze lovingly settles on you and his thumbs wipe your tears. 

“I didn’t know what love was until I met you. When you’re away, I miss you. When you’re sleeping, I wish you’re awake so I can tell you some jokes that make you laugh.” 

“Me too.” You lose yourself into the warm brown eyes of his. “When I think about you, all my sadness disappears. It’s cliché, I know. But.. I think I’m so lucky to have you.” You choke on your own silent sob as he presses light kisses onto your lips.

“I’m so lucky to have you too.” He says truthfully. “I never believe in destiny, but I think we’re destined to love each other.” 

 And under the now moonlight that slowly shines onto you both, he cups your face and kisses you with all his might, as fireworks go off in the sky, as if to be a witness of this beautiful love story. 

 You don’t care for any of that as he whispers ‘I love you’ and you whisper one back too.

COPYRIGHTED BY SADNIGHTFORUS, 2023

[axcel-lucci]

Death will never keep us apart.

Trafalgar Law x fem!reader

Note: established relationship, also... Slight... Angst?

"You can do it, (y/n)!" Bepo encouraged as he held her hand

It reassured her through deep pushes just to push their son out of her body.

"(Y/n)! One more, I promise this'll all be over soon!" Law said as he was the one aiding her.

"If fucking 47 hours in labour is 'soon', I'm fucked!" She yelled as she basically death gripped on Bepo's paw making the poor bear cry a little on the inside.

After all that, the baby was safely delivered.

She could could feel herself slowly getting weaker as she breathes I'm air.

"Hey..." Law called as he pulled of his gloves and his mask, "you did great..."

He kissed her forehead, "don't worry... They're taking care of the baby, cleaning him up and feeding him... Bepo, can you go and get the other bed ready?" Law said as he held her hand in which she weakly gripped unto.

The bear nodded and left, but not without taking a peak of the cute baby boy.

"Hey" he called, more sternly now, "are you alright?" He asked, worryingly as he checked her pulse.

Her pulse was gradually starting to get weaker, and weaker as she breathes heavily.

"(Y/n)..." He called, no response.

He called again, still no response until he felt the pulse suddenly disappear

"(Y/n)! No!" He yelled before holding unto her tight, "please...!"

...

"What... Where...?" (Y/n) muttered before looking around to a white void she found herself waking up at.

She remembers giving birth and...

"Am I..."

"Yes, you are dead." Someone with a smooth voice said behind her as she turned around to see an angel smiling down softly at her

"What... No. No! I can't!"

...

"(Y/n)! Please, please, please wake up!" Law begged as he did all procedures he can think of just to have her heart beat right back.

The crew held on to the now sleeping baby in their arms, afraid that if they handed him the baby... He'd lose himself.

....

"What do you mean? Your life has come to an end, is it not?" The angel smiles with its voice, "is it not enough rat you have successfully delivered a baby boy, changed his father's life for the better, and found a family...?"

"No. It's not enough. I grew up without a mother, I... Don't even know who my mother is... I don't want to come a time when... Even my own child doesn't know who I am. And Law... My husband... He... He lost so many... I promised him I'd stay by him until the end-"

"This is the end." The angel said, almost annoyingly, "your end, that is"

She frowned, "no. Bring me back. Now." She demanded, "my baby... My husband..." She grumbled, "I can't leave them. I don't want to leave them."

"But this is your fate, the fate that our creator has written for us..." The angel reasoned

"No. I do not accept this creator. I do not accept whatever fictional stories they're writing. I do NOT accept whatever they do. What, are we all just a doll to them??" She questioned

"That's not-"

"Shut. Up. We are not dolls, I am a mother and a wife. You are an angel. Not puppets and specially not dolls." She growled, "either you bring me back or you'll have to drag me kicking and screaming to the depths of hell"

"Angels don't go to hell..." The angel cried a bit before sighing deeply; "you know... When the creator said you'd be resisting... I didn't expect them to mean... This..."

"Well guess what, I won't be resisting if you bring me back. My husband is waiting for me, he cannot raise a child because he himself is an inner child... And it's my job to protect my children." She huffed

The angel just stared before sighing, "you seriously are a crazy woman... Most, if not all, the people that die come willingly... But you... You're different... I guess that's a mother's love... Huh?"

She just stomped her foot, "bring me back or I will seriously inflict irreversible damage to you and your piece of shit morals."

"Woah! No need to get so verbal...!" The angel gasped, "okay...! Okay...! I'll... I'll send you back..."

"That's what I thought."

"Gosh... The creator is so gonna scold me..."

...

"(Y/n), please...!" Law yelled as he kept giving her CPR

"Captain..." Shachi said, "I think it's.."

"No! She's not dead...! I know it!" He yelled before turnin to his crew, will visible hurt and anger in his eyes but tears kept spilling out, "get me a fucking blood bag instead! And make sure it's her blood type!"

"Y-yes sir...!" The crew nodded as Ikkaku held on to the sweet baby boy, unaware of what's happening around him.

He turned back to (y/n) only to slowly cup her cheeks with his hands, they were shivering... Trembling...

One would think a surgeon's hand would be steady and precise but...

His hands were shaking as he cupped her cheeks and desperately called out to her in almost a ragged whisper, "please... (Y/n)... Come back... I can't raise him alone... I can't raise our baby alone... I can't... I can't live without you... Please..." He begged while softly yet shakily kissing her in hopes that she wakes up, "... Please" his voice quivered.

He slowly starts to lose hope and accept her death, "please... Just... One more time... Please..." He cried.

The stoic and cold demeanour washed away by the fountains and rivers of his continuous tears.

Law kissed her lips, softly yet shakily before one of his hand hold hers in a tight grip, "please..." He muttered, "please wake up..."

A few moments later and he felt her hand twitch making him gasp and stand up straight, he could feel her hand grip his again as she tried her best to open her eyes only to close them back up from exhaustion.

One of his crew finally came back with a blood bag and law immediately hooked it to her, "(y/n)...!" He slowly smiled before she lifted a hand to his face.

Her hand missed when she tried to hold his face due to the haziness of her vision, "Law..."

"Rest up, my love..." He said before wiping away his tears, "and as soon as you wake up, you can see little Cora." He smiled before kissing her forehead

"Law... You bastard..." She laughed weakly, "I still don't appreciate the literal hours of my labour."

"I know... My love... I promise, I'll take good care of you and the baby forever. Just tell me what you need, I'll give them to you"

She smiled, "give me a kiss... Please?"

"Yes..." He smiled before kissing her.

...

She slowly woke up to the smell of isopropyl alcohol and anesthesia as it slowly wears off.

She ground before lifting a hand to rub her eyes open.

"Dear...! You're finally awake" he smiled brightly as he stood beside her bed and helped her sit up

"Ow... Ow..." She groaned, "is this fucking normal?" She frowned as he massaged her body

"Yes... It is."

"Dammit... I'm so not having another child." She huffed while crossing her arms

"Aww... But I want three children..." He pouts cutely making her huff

"Yeah yeah... Me too" she grumbled, "wait...! What happened to baby Cora?!"

"Shh... Here..." He smiled and motioned to a small hospital bed meant for babies beside him.

He slowly took the baby to his arms, supporting the places he knew needed to be supported and hands it over to her.

She gladly took the baby into her arms as he sleeps peacefully in a blanket Klione knitted for him.

"Oh... Law..." She smiled as she stared at the literal "copy, paste" of law and his child, "I'm upset how he looks so much like you and yet I'm the one who almost died"

"Come now..." He muttered and hugged her waist, "I'm sure he has your traits." He smiled before kissing her shoulder, "and... Thank you"

"For what?" She looked at him with a small smile

"For staying... I thought you were gonna die, too..." He mumbled

"Law..." She smiled before kissing his cheek, "fun fact, I grilled that angel right open as he tried dragging me off to the afterlife"

Law laughed softly, "so... Even death won't keep us apart, no?" He smiled.

"I guess it is..." She chuckled, "also... It hurts like literal hell, law... Can I have at least some pain meds??"

Law chuckled before nodding, "but you can take them later after eating..." He kissed her forehead, "I love you so much..."

"I love you more..." She smiled and kissed him.

He smiled before kissing back.

[lizhly-writes]

I wish you would write a fic where yang haoli and yang haoshu's sibling relationship is explored.

hi there.

...

Yang Haoshu was playing with a knife.

It was not particularly kind on Yang Haoli’s nerves, watching her little sister toss it in the air, sending it blade over handle before she caught it once again.  Doing it once was a surprise; doing it repeatedly felt like an accident waiting to happen.

“Shu-er,” Yang Haoli said, after Yang Haoshu had thrown the knife almost high enough to hit the ceiling.  “Have you considered picking a slightly less dangerous hobby?”

“It’s really not that bad,” Yang Haoshu said, but she obligingly stopped.  She then proceeded to hurl the knife at a dartboard mounted across the room. It hit with an almost disconcertingly loud thump.

This was, of course, less important than the fact that it had hit dead center.

Yang Haoli clapped.  

Yang Haoshu preened. “Thank you, thank you!” she said, executing a bow more typical of a street magician instead of a wealthy young miss.  “I’m here all day! Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, fifty-two weeks a year!  See me any time!”

“Very well done! Have you been practicing?”

“Well, I try – hey, you don’t have to –”

Yang Haoli was already out of her seat and yanking the knife out.  

The knife was a delicate, pretty thing.  Shining rose-gold metal, enameled flowers, intricately patterned and engraved.  More jewelry than weapon, and certainly not suited for cutting anything more sturdy than human flesh.  Anyone would think that embedding it into a wall – embedding it, her little sister was getting so strong! – would be irreversibly damaging.

Of course, they would be wrong. Yang Haoli made sure her cute baby sister only got the best.

“I can pick up my own things, you know,” Yang Haoshu said, puffing her cheeks out slightly.

“I know you can, I just wanted to do it for you. Isn’t it fine?”

“You’re really too encouraging, Da-jie.  I scare the shit out of you with stuff like this and you still keep on enabling me.”

“I wouldn’t put it like that…”

“So Da-jie wasn’t even a little scared?  Didn’t think I was going to injure myself at all?”

“...It’s really not something to brag about.  I would be less concerned if you used it like a regular knife instead of trying to do tricks with it.”

“You knew I would before you bought it for me, so isn’t it technically your fault?”

…That was absolutely pushing responsibility to the wrong place, and Yang Haoshu knew it.  While it wasn’t inaccurate to say that Yang Haoli had a part in it – she really should learn to properly say no to her baby sister at some point – saying that it was all Yang Haoli’s fault –

“As if I told you to start throwing knives?” Yang Haoli said dryly.

“You would never, you’d probably die of heart failure before you willingly said that sort of thing,” Yang Haoshu conceded easily, not particularly bothered by it at all.  “Actually, does Da-jie have anything to say?  It seems you were looking for me? What is it, are Mother and Father mad at me again?”

Yang Haoli narrowed her eyes. “That shouldn’t be your first assumption, did you do something?”

“... Don’t worry about it,” Yang Haoshu said, which was as good as confirming that she did.

Yang Haoli was going to have to look into it.  Perhaps it was something with the Jiang family again – Shu-er never did get along very well with A-Ming.  It would have to be something big if Yang Haoshu thought it would get their parents’ attention.  

“Anyway!” Yang Haoshu said, smiling beautifully, as if smiling hard enough was enough to make Yang Haoli let the matter go (this was unfortunately correct).  “You were going to tell me something?”

Right, well. “It’s nothing serious, I just thought you might like to go out and play tomorrow?”

“Ah?”

“You wanted to look through that bookstore you like?” Yang Haoli prompted.  “Get some ice cream?”

Yang Haoshu had mentioned these sorts of things before – something about a new book release, a new seasonal ice cream flavor.  But it had already been two weeks, since then.  It was likely that Yang Haoshu had already gotten her books, tried that new ice cream flavor, done everything and anything she wanted.  Yang Haoli did her best, but when it came to this sort of information, she was always horribly out-of-date.

Still, Yang Haoshu beamed as if Yang Haoli had been perfectly on-time.  “Da-jie remembered!  Then, as long as Da-jie isn’t too busy –” she paused.  “Da-jie really isn’t busy?”

Yang Haoli was always busy.  

“Da-jie isn’t busy,” Yang Haoli said. Da-jie had, in fact, spent some time burning the midnight oil to work through everything her parents had dumped on her.  it was enough to buy her a little bit of breathing room – one day, entirely free to spend with her baby sister. 

For faintest, barest moment, Yang Haoshu frowned, brows furrowed.  Then it was gone, and Yang Haoshu was smiling as if that other expression had never crossed her face to begin with. “Then let’s have a lot of fun tomorrow, okay?”

[0gasstationcoffee]

LWA rewatch episode 21

No lie I was very excited for this one. Probably my favorite episode

·      YALL

·      YAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLL

·      IM SO READY

·      GIVE ME MAMA BEAR CHARIOT

·      Lol Andrew asking if Frank has a way to get in touch with Luna Nova

·      I wonder if it’s because Frank and Lotte are friends? Andrew probably deduced that Frank had a way to talk to her

·      Oh and here’s Frank dropping his knowledge about witches, probably learned from Lotte

·      Okay so this whole thing with the anger over whether or not a goal counted, considering how passionate people are about sports this is honestly very realistic

·      OMG lmao when Frank is showing Andrew the anger over the game on his phone, one of the tweets says “piece of shit game, piece of shit referee”

·      There is more cursing in this than I remembered I love it

·      LET THE CHARACTERS SAY FUCK

·      Croix’s fucking Emotion App lol

·      Lmao Ursula’s like WAIT you brought Diana back AND got the fifth word????

·      And Akko’s just “yeah I was surprised too�� lmao

·      WE AT THE SIXTH WORD NOW MUTHAFUCKAS

·      Lyonne. Finally one I can spell

·      Ursula looks so sad talking about Lyonne : (

·      “The most important word of them all.” But Ursula we still have the last word!!!!

·      Aww Akko’s looking up the word and can’t find it

·      These quotes she did find are pretty cool tho

·      Common sense is in spite of, not the result of, education. I love that one

·      “Of course when you start looking for [the words] that’s when they’re impossible to find. Yeah Akko the words come to you naturally! You don’t have to waste time looking them up

·      Akko says pain in the butt and H&B show up lol

·      Yeah they’ve lost all the malice in their voices tho Akko is right to be defensive the whole time

·      Akko being offended when they make a crack about her being in the library lol

·      Hey maybe now that Akko brought Diana back y’all won’t be so mean????

·      EVEN CROIX MAKES A COMMENT ABOUT AKKO IN THE LIBRARY LMAO

·      “Is it really so weird for people to see me in here??” Poor Akko baby they don’t know how hard you try

·      Croix’s mouth twitch when she heard “Lyonne”

·      I know Croix is gonna do it but CROIX DON’T DO IT DON’T MENTION WAGANDEA

·      AND DON’T HURT AKKO

·      STAY AWAY FROM HER

·      Croix did it she mentioned Wagandea goddammit

·      “Chariot once climbed up the tree and there she discovered the sixth word.” I mean I guess that is sort of what happened

·      So the passage that we can properly see when Akko looks up Wagandea talks about how no one has ever been able to climb to the top but on the next page where you can’t really read it clearly, it talks about how the pollen causes an allergic reaction to witches

·      OOOOOOF this scene with Akko wanting to go to Wagandea and Ursula saying no

·      “The pollen is extremely poisonous to witches and if you touch it, the damages are irreversible.” OUCH OUCH OUCH OUCH OUCH

·      “I didn’t tell you because I knew you would want to see it right away.” Yeah that tracks. But also you can’t really blame Akko

·      “Wait who told you about Wagandea?” THERE’S ONLY ONE PERSON WHO WOULD HAVE URSULA LOVE

·      Ursula talking about how long the pollen lasts then tries to make Akko feel better by saying it normally only lasts a month and Akko should wait

·      I bet Ursula hoped Akko wouldn’t solve the fifth word so fast because it happened just in time for Wagandea to start spreading its pollen

·      “If I go now, I could get there before the pollen spreads.” Baby is so desperate to see Chariot she’s willing to put herself in actual danger this poor angel

·      Oof Ursula putting her foot down with Akko. I mean she had to do it, Akko keeps talking about putting herself in harm’s way

·      Very much like a kid who keeps pestering their mom and then the mom finally raises their voice and the kid is just like FINE

·      Akko’s so upset oh honey

·      Aw of course she’s mad at Ursula and saying these things, she just wants to vent

·      “I can’t believe what a worrywart Professor Ursula is. She’s way too timid and doesn’t take any risks. Why is she so lame?” AKKO YOU DO NOT SPEAK ABOUT YOUR MOTHER AND MY LOVE LIKE THAT

·      Also Akko you have never been more wrong in the entire show and that’s saying something

·      I mean she’s just mad because she thinks Ursula is in the way of her meeting Chariot which…the irony

·      Lotte is a friend that we all need in our lives. “Don’t say things like that, she’s just concerned about you Akko.”

·      LMFAO and now Akko is so right, with her luck the Wagandea pollen would hang around for like a decade

·      “With me, if something can go wrong it will go wrong.” Aw babe…she right tho

·      OOp here’s Diana!

·      “They say if a witch touches the pollen, she will lose her magic power AND the ability to fly forever.” So here they make it seem like you lose both but in the show, Chariot only loses her ability to fly. They also say the effects are incurable which makes Croix’s vow to find a cure very sweet but also is it even possible?

·      Aww Diana is hiding her concern for Akko by using her logic on why Akko shouldn’t go

·      “So don’t you think you should listen to Professor Ursula?” Yes Diana go off girl we all should!!!!

·      Lotte: her tone sounded kind of harsh but I also think she was a little concerned for you Akko. Lmao Lotte I adore you

·      Sucy: that’s nice. Even Sucy is willing to admit it, is this why the two of them go to Diana when they can’t find Akko? Cuz they’ve seen first hand that Diana cares?

·      CROIX STOP CAUSING TROUBLE AKKO WAS GONNA LET IT GO

·      I know Croix is trying to go back to Wagandea with Chariot and Akko but she’s gonna be the one to regret the most out of all of them. And they all fucking regret it big time

·      CROIX YOU LYING LIAR WHO LIES THERE IS NOT ANY TIME BEFORE THE POLLEN RELEASES

·      At the very least, why would you want to risk your powers by going to the Wagandea tree?

·      “Professor Ursula can be a little disorganized. She might be confused about the timing of it.” CROIX IMMA

·      “I would gladly take you to Wagandea.” This show man. This show

·      I’m so fucking tense

·      THE PICTURE

·      YALL KNOW WHAT PICTURE

·      The flashback!

·      Ursula’s just sitting in her office staring at the picture my baby

·      She has Alcor keeping a watch on Akko to let her know when she’s in trouble I LOVE THIS MILF

·      I like that young Chariot didn’t wear glasses and young Croix did and then in adulthood they switched

·      BUT BACK TO ALCOR URGENTLY GIVING URSULA THE MESSAGE THAT AKKO IS IN TROUBLE

·      MAMA BEAR CHARIOT

·      “Croix took Akko?!” GO SAVE YOUR CUB

·      Oh Croix asking why Akko is collecting the words and what she’ll wish for when she gets the world altering magic is interesting

·      “I hadn’t thought about it much, it’s too confusing.” Aww the way she said that make Akko seem like she’s sad she’s not smarter and that hurts

·      That being said, they’re sitting on roombas in the ley line and I can’t cope

·      She’s only getting the words to meet Chariot, it makes this whole reveal so fucking emotional

·      That’s all Croix needs to know in order to devastate both Chariot and Akko. You can see the plan forming in her head

·      “You really like Chariot that much?” Croix so did you at one point. And underneath it all, still do as is evidenced fairly soon

·      “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll meet her soon.” “I will?” “Definitely.” CROIXXXXXXX

·      That fucking Wagandea tree is massive how did ANYONE think they could climb it

·      CROIX STOP MAKING AKKO DOUBT URSULA AND GO BACK TO YOUR NOODLES

·      “I have to wonder if there’s some reason she didn’t want you to climb up the tree.” CUZ OF THE HIGHLY TOXIC POLLEN CROIX

·      Oh right the pollen buds at the bottom of the tree don’t look ready but that’s because the tree starts spreading it’s pollen from the top iirc

·      “There are a few things I don’t quite understand about Ursula.” CROIX SHUT YOUR MOUTH DON’T DO THEM LIKE THIS

·      Akko’s so concerned “What do you mean?”

·      “I can’t recall any student by the name of Ursula.” Croix stop please!!!

·      Akko trying to justify it’s just cuz she didn’t leave much of an impression, especially compared to Chariot is both sad and kind of hysterical

·      CROIX TELLING AKKO TO BE CAREFUL AROUND URSULA IM ABOUT TO JUMP IN MY TV BITCH

·      “Ursula might be hiding something from you, something very important to you.” Poor Akko you can see how uncomfortable the thought is because she does trust Ursula so much. It’s all heartbreaking

·      Akko defending Ursula :’) “I’m sure it was just because she was worried about me because it’s dangerous here, she knows I can be a little reckless.”

·      So at least when Croix starts bad mouthing Ursula, Akko switches her position back to Ursula’s side

·      AKKO BE CAREFUL

·      Ursula rushing to Akko!!!!!!!!! “Akko where are you!” my heart

·      Croix’s fucking roombas dammit

·      Chariot on her knees in front of Croix, Croix saying this seems familiar. Insert gif of ken jeong going “ha GAY”

·      Okay back to serious

·      “Do you remember when we first came to this forest?” This flashback is gonna be full of pain

·      Young Croix: I swear to the nine old witches, I will open the seal on the grand triskelion. I will be the greatest witch ever

·      Young Chariot: And I swear it too! I want to entertain the world and put a smile on everyone’s face. I’ll help them forget all their sadness

·      And that’s what does it, isn’t it? Croix wants to do it so she can be known as the greatest witch in the world. Chariot wants to do it out of the goodness of her heart and make people happy.

·      I am also very curious and upset when I think about what made Chariot this way. What made this young girl so focused on making sure so one else was sad. How sad was she exactly that she was hellbent that no one else should ever be sad?

·      WHAT HAPPENED TO CHARIOT YALL

·      Also if the grand triskelion is supposed to be a big secret that only the nine old witches know about, how does basically everyone know about it?

·      Okay continuing on

·      The Shiny Rod literally came down from the stars

·      I mean it came from the big dipper so obviously it was going to Chariot lol but still FROM THE STARS

·      I guess that makes sense, didn’t Ygdrasil’s branches connect all the stars in the heavens?

·      Woodward: It’s been quite a long time since the wand of the seven stars chose a new owner.

·      So Woodward DOESN’T choose who the rod goes to?

·      Oh man young Croix just in disbelief and her heart must already be overcome with bitterness if she can’t even touch the Rod

·      Yup those green eyes are now green with jealousy

·      And Chariot looks so guilty

·      OOP AND NOW WE’RE BACK

·      This fucking Roomba keeps knocking Chariot on her ass lmao

·      Chariot is dropping truth bombs!!!!

·      Chariot: Even if you try to stop Akko you won’t get the grand triskelion. But you should already know that. OOO shots fired good job Chariot!!!

·      Croix: it seems the rod chose the wrong person, just like last time. Croix it’s your hubris getting in the way!!!!!!! Chariot and Akko were chosen for very specific and similar reasons, maybe look at that

·      Croix: Do you know the reason I keep interfering? It’s because Akko is your last chance for your dream. LEAVE AKKO ALONE

·      AKKO PLEASE DON’T DIE

·      SHE KEEPS SLIPPING

·      She looks at the never ending path still in front of her and still vows not to give up

·      NO THE POLLEN

·      Are Croix’s cubes actively trying to kill Akko?????

·      THEY ARE

·      CROIX YOUR VENDETTA AGAINST YOUR EX GIRLFRIEND SHOULD NOT INCLUDE HER CHILD

·      Straight up if Akko actually did die because of Croix’s plans, no matter how remorseful Croix was in the end I really think Chariot would have destroyed her

·      Akko literally would have been crushed to death by Croix’s machine if Chariot hadn’t saved her

·      Oh this is heartbreaking

·      Oh no

·      Chariot just….she just wants to protect Akko

·      And all Akko wants is to meet Chariot and she wants it so much that she’s willing to basically die for it

·      Akko just slaps her hand away because she still thinks Ursula is trying to stop her from meeting Chariot which SHE IS but not how you think Akko!

·      Their red eyes are shimmering

·      They’re both about to start crying trying to get the other one to listen

·      I’m about to start crying because I AM listening

·      Croix’s about to start crying because I’m gonna punch her in the nose

·      Chariot’s face omg it’s so sad

·      She’s watching this young girl who she adores just absolutely tearing herself up over the chance to meet her

·      It’s killing her and me

·      Oh god Chariot’s desperate plea “Croix please move!” She’s not even fighting anymore she just wants to get to Akko

·      Croix creates a giant monster that just eats Chariot

·      How many times does Chariot get eaten on this show

·      Dirty answers only

·      OH WHEN SHE COMES BACK OUT SHE HAS HER RED HAIR

·      Which makes sense cuz she was knocked out BUT HER RED HAIR IM LOVE

·      SHE’S FALLING

·      HELP

·      Alright I’m gonna try and catch these flashbacks from when adult Chariot is falling because it clearly shows young Chariot also fell off Wagandea too

·      So first picture is of young Chariot climbing and the pollen buds looking mighty big

·      Second picture is of the pollen spreading and young Chariot still on the tree

·      Third picture is of young Chariot falling just like she is now. Did she maybe jump off the tree to avoid the pollen?

·      And all the while we have young Croix yelling Chariot’s name, begging her to wake up

·      AND IT FADES INTO ADULT CROIX FLYING AFTER CHARIOT YELLING AT HER TO WAKE UP AGAIN

·      Croix does sound fucking scared

·      Good god Chariot was seconds away from dying

·      Also the MUSIC playing during this scene, killing me

·      Yeah Croix looked a little shaken

·      She’s warning Chariot to stay away because the pollen is spreading CROIX NOW YOU DECIDE TO SHOW YOU CARE A LITTLE BIT??

·      Also lol that’s her daughter up there Chariot’s not leaving

·      “I will protect Akko!” DAMN RIGHT THERE’S MY MAMA BEAR

·      Also the way she said that so out of breath she really did have the wind knocked out of her

·      Oof Croix is not happy Chariot is going back up the Wagandea tree

·      She cancelled her robots from attacking thank goodness

·      Akko baby gosh why couldn’t you have seen what just happened

·      She must be so high up now

·      She’s in the exact same position as young Chariot was in the first picture

·      Makes sense why Chariot knew exactly what the pollen status of Wagandea was

·      Akko’s so tired but she’s not giving up

·      OH THE POLLEN ON TOP

·      SHE’S BEING SURROUNDED BY THE POLLEN HOW DID SHE END UP NOT AFFECTED BY IT

·      OH WELL I’LL TAKE IT SHE MUST HAVE FALLEN OFF RIGHT BEFORE IT WOULD HAVE HIT HER

·      SHE’S FALLING AHHHHHHHHH

·      GOD THE PARALLELS

·      SHE’S FALLING

·      “It’s all over.” BABY GIRL MY HEART IS HURTING

·      CHARIOT FOR THE SAVE GO PROTECT

·      Everything about this is destroying me

·      Chariot yelling “AKKO!” in absolute terror

·      The way she so desperately says “Please don’t take her future away, I beg you!”

·      AND OF COURSE SHE’S JUST…SHE’S JUST FLYING THROUGH THE POLLEN AND BLOCKING AKKO FROM IT TO PROTECT HER I CANNOT

·      CHARIOT LOVES AKKO SO MUCH

·      And of course the music brings it all together and I hurt

·      She was going SO FAST to get to Akko in time that it starts tearing at her clothes and hurting her face HOLY SHIT

·      They crash on the ground MY BABIES

·      This is the most heartwarming scene I have ever seen in my life

·      Akko wakes up and is still in Ursula’s arms because she was trying to protect Akko from the crash

·      I just…I love Chariot/Ursula so much

·      The first thing Ursula does upon waking up is asking Akko if she’s all right : ))))))

·      Akko apologizing for the terrible things she said and that Ursula still came to save her

·      Oh god she looks at Akko crying and flashes back to herself crying and apologizing to Croix for being picked for the Shiny Rod over her

·      And Croix just hugs her! She tried to comfort her but over time her resentment must have built and built

·      Both Chariot and Akko being so emotional and having so many parallels is killing me

·      But now I’m confused, when exactly does the memory of Chariot climbing the Wagandea tree take place? They make it seem like it happens after Chariot is chosen for the Rod but before she apologized to Croix because of it. She does have the Rod when she’s climbing but what exactly is the timeline?

·      AKKO AND URSULA HUGGING EXACTLY HOW THEY WILL HUG IN THE FUTURE WHEN AKKO KNOWS WHO SHE IS

·      IM CRYING TOO. EVERYONE’S CRYING

·      Ursula worrying she’s been pushing her dreams onto Akko and apologizing, such a motherly worry

·      “I didn’t mean to say such mean things to you! You’ve always been there to help me Professor, you’ve always been by my side! So that’s why, what I really want to say is…Thank you.”

·      MY HEART IS BEING TAPED BACK TOGETHER

·      THE SIXTH WORD HAS ACTIVATEDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

·      WAIT SO DO THEY UNLOCK THE LAST TWO WORDS TOGETHER OR AM I FORGETTING HOW THE SEVENTH WORD PLAYS OUT????

·      I DON’T CARE I’LL SEE IT EVENTUALLY THIS SCENE IS SO SWEET

·      The magic is healing Ursula???????????????????? I do not remember this!!!!

·      “Akko, you really are growing into a fine person.” MY BABIES

·      WELL MY BABY AND MY BABY’S BABY WHOMST IS ALSO MY BABY

·      Croix with her giant ass rod

·      Wait so how do Ursula and Akko get out of the forest then? Did they walk and Ursula said it was because she was too tired to fly or had the pollen not kicked in yet?

·      See I truly don’t understand how we can have episodes like this, a dynamic like this between Akko and Chariot, and there are still SO FEW FICS where this mother/daughter or big sister/little sister, mentor/mentee whatever you like this sweet dynamic as are the focus. This relationship is the heart of the show. I like Charoix and Diakko (and hell even stories pairing Akko with some of the other teens) as much as the next person but this relationship is so overlooked in so many fics and it makes me sad because these two are the heart of Little Witch Academia

·      And to no one’s surprise, my favorite dynamic is when they act like mother/daughter. Sort of like a Gilmore Girls one because they’re so close in age and Akko can talk to Chariot about anything

·      God I love this episode

·      AND OMG I DIDN’T REALIZE THE NEXT EPISODE WAS THE FUCKING EPISODE OH MY GODS

[movienotesbyzawmer]

April 26: Rocky V

(previous notes: Rocky IV)

A fifth Rocky movie if you can believe it! I saw this in the theater when it came out in 1990. My movie appreciation had become exponentially more sophisticated since the previous movie, but I remember thinking that they were going for something less formulaic when they came out with this. They even brought back the Oscar-winning director of the original Rocky, John Avildson. And surely this character was way too old to still be able to win fights against professional boxers, right? I must say, I don't remember what the story of this movie is.

The intro does a brief throwback to the original name-scroll-plus-fanfare, but now we're showing a recap of the previous movie's final fight during the credits, which promise an appearance by no less than Burgess Meredith.

Do you think there was a conversation where Sylvester Stallone condescendingly told Avildson, "hey, trust me, start the movie with three and a half minutes that is just the end of the last picture, easy money baby, cha-ching ya know?"

The story begins immediately after the Battle of Cold War Symbolism, and we see that he is experiencing physical trauma as a result of Soviet Boxing Technology.

Then we see that they had the idea to introduce a Don King-type character, a really irritating boxing promoter blindsiding him in public to get on his case about a new challenger. Do you think the promoter character will have a nuanced arc.

After a chill father-son catch-up chat, there's an awkwardly-blocked expository scene about how Paulie made some stupid mistake and got tricked into signing away millions of Rocky dollars to a sinister accountant. And then he goes to the doctor who tells him he has irreversible punch damage and can't fight any more. Conflict is looking dire. Do you think Robot Character will arrive soon to cheer us all up.

After selling all of their possessions at an auction, Rocky goes to his old hangouts. He leaves the corner bar looking defeated. They don't show how he was defeated in the bar, but that bar clearly humiliated him.

Then he goes to the old gym, and here's where we have a flashback scene of Burgess Meredith giving him a pep talk. It's kinda nice. But it still feels like we're at the point in the story right before the tide turns and suddenly Rocky is inspired to become supernaturally good at boxing once again. But that's not gonna happen; we're just twenty minutes into the movie.

Rocky has to move back into his old neighborhood. It's dirty and run down, and people gawk.

0:32:00 - For the third time in this movie, Rocky tries to charm his family with a LOOK WHAT I PULLED OUT OF YOUR EAR gag. The characters are barely charmed by this gag. We, the audience, are way way way less charmed.

Fake Don King is buzzing around a lot. He is a dick and he is annoying to every single person alive. It's effective at driving the conflict because he is so persistent at needling Rocky into maybe fighting. But the acting is cringey. Kinda the point, though, right?

Just like that, the old gym where we saw the flashback, which was abandoned and run down, is open for business and full of people. How did that happen?

0:43:30 - Okay now it is me - Zawmer! - who is about to be an unappealing bad guy because I must now report how little tolerance I have for this scene with two child actors. Rocky's son, who got bullied at school earlier, is having his first maybe-we-fancy-each-other conversation with a girl. The dialogue has no chemistry with these kid actors.

I should mention that there is a character named Tommy Gunn. He is a spirited young boxer who has found Rocky and wants Rocky to help him. He is bemulleted and earnest and good-punch-y.

Rocky is going to manage Tommy, but his son wants some attention. Feels like an artificially manufactured conflict. Plus the dumb bullies at school beat him up again. It is hard being the newly-poor child of Rocky Balboa.

0:53:25 - I probably wouldn't have caught this if I hadn't watched the first movie kind of recently, but we cut to a fight, Tommy is fighting someone and it's in the same church that started the first movie. He wins that fight and it becomes a montage of Tommy becoming increasingly successful under Rocky's coaching, plus there is evidence that Rocky's son is trying to get his dad's attention by using some of the gym equipment.

It does seem like it would be fun to make boxing-improvement montages.

Oh, the kid learning boxing was so he could get back at the bullies. Mission accomplished but he clearly thinks his dad was supposed to be even nicer about that, even though he was kind of nice. But he was in the middle of something with Tommy, I mean, come on!

Ooh, and that was just a brief interruption in the boxing-improvement montage, it keeps going. This movie is pretty generous with fun montages.

The falling out scene between Rocky and Kid is not better than a similar scene in an after school special. And it's way worse than that one anti-drugs commercial we all remember, "I LEARNED IT FROM WATCHING YOU"

Oh, but then Kid runs away and starts hanging out with Ivan Drago! Drago starts teaching him how to beat up his dad, and says something about "If he die, he die". No. No he doesn't. That doesn't happen. I was just getting a little bored there. What's true here, what's actually true, is that Kid's increasingly rebellious personality has yielded a very, very stupid looking ear chain. It is an earring… with a chain hanging off it at the exact perfect length for no human being to think it looks good. The length of that chain is the chain-length equivalent of the amount of time that Talia Shire closes her eyes that one time.

A new conflict emerges where Tommy is going to sign with Fake Don King. It turns out Rocky had no interest in making any money. You can't blame him really. Rocky's all "don't sell out". But. Dude.

Okay so Tommy Gunn, having divorced Rocky and married Fake Don King, wins the title fight and becomes the new champion. The crowd boos, and they also cheer "Rocky". Rocky is not there. Rocky is watching the fight on TV in the basement and also punching a thing because he can't help it, but the crowd at the fight is like "Rocky" and "boo". I don't quite get it.

This press conference is kind of clearing it up, see, no one thinks it was a legitimate fight, it seemed fakey. There is pandemonium and insultation! It is clearly building to some silly insistence that he, Tommy, should fight Rocky.

Tommy shows up at the bar and he's hopping mad because he ain't nobody's robot and will you accept my challenge Rocky! Fake Don King thought this would turn into an actual arena event, but it's turning into just a back-alley fight like in that Fight-y movie about that Club.

It escalates thusly. As Rocky endures cinematically beautiful flashbacks to fights from earlier movies, they punch each other beneath rumbling trains. I sound mocking but some of it is pretty visually interesting.

Interesting enough to serve as an abstract explanation for how, once again, Rocky is supernaturally good at punch-game. It may be a street brawl this time, and we may have to do without Adrian closing her eyes Just So, but once again the Rocky movie ends with him winning the fight and everyone being very very excited about that. He punches Fake Don King because of how smarmy he is, and even the priest is delighted.

There is a denouement of Rocky and Kid bonding genially by the famous steps, and then the credits roll in front of touching stills from all five movies, and an Elton John song that didn't have as much cultural impact as some other songs we've heard recently.

I guess I like the montages and the quick cinematic choices that are to be found here and there in these movies, but mostly when I think back on them it seems like they are arrangements of familiar modules. In this one, the modules were held together with more flimsy material. I was wrong to think that this movie would be less formulaic. Soon I am done with this project. Soon. SOON.

[singeramg]

Congratulations on your 500 followers! I would like to make a request for 9 .“Just don’t break anything…again!” with Henry. Thank you!

Hey world! Sorry I’ve been a bit MIA when it comes to writing, or at least posting! Don’t worry continuations of my WIP’s are coming but I also wanted to challenge myself to break my mold of writing and try to have a little fun. Also I wanted to show my appreciation of all of you and your support of what I do!

So to anon this is something from my Fluff! Henry collection! I hope you enjoy it as much as I had fun with it!

Title: Lava and Kids Don’t Mix

Characters: Dad!Henry Cavill x Female Reader

Prompt: “Just Don’t Break Anything...Again!”

Rating: G!

Warning: None, just fluff, mention of injury, and a slightly broody Cavill man.

MasterList for more fun!

Henry Cavill was in a panic. 

You only had one rule before you left to spend the day with his mother. Leaving him in charge of your two 5 year old  twin boys Mitchell and Michael for the day. He was supposed to keep it simple, take the boys to the park with Kal and your 2 year old Jack Terrier Russell Sandy. You knew the boys would run off all access energy at the park and after they ate the soup and sandwiches you made for all of them before you left, they would down for their nap, and you would be home and starting dinner just after they woke up.

Simple plan right?

Right?

Wrong.

Needless to say things didn’t anyways go to plan in the Cavill household when dealing with two rambunctious twins that looked and acted like their father and two dogs, and also an unexpected rainstorm that shortened the park trip that saw the Cavill men playing the floor is lava, while Henry warmed up the soup in the kitchen. Ignoring the roughhousing like he tended to do when you weren’t around because he grew up with four brothers and “boys will be boys.” Of course Mitchell managed to miss the couch cushions he was supposed to land on, and landed on his left arm and on top of his brother. The subsequent scream of pain sent Henry flying from the kitchen, and to his horror found two crying kids on the floor. One holding his arm hollering and the other reeling from his brother landing halfway on him, therefore he was crying too. Henry runs back to the stove switching it off and then running back over to his children which now had a dog sniffing at their faces. Henry picks up Michael first sitting him on the couch and his whimpers are already settling down but Mitchell was still hollering and holding his arm.

“Oh no.”

Henry picks up Michell off the floor who curls into his father's side.

“Mitchell can I see your arm?”

Slowly; the still whimpering child lifts his arm, and the second Henry delicately touches the arm, it sends Mitchell into a scream of pain and fresh tears.

Oh dear.

He notes the boy’s arm has begun to swell and is awfully red. He carries him into the kitchen and puts a ice pack on it and knows he is going to have to take him to the hospital.

In the biggest rush known to man he gathers the twins and puts an SOS to you. Tossing things around the house until he located his wallet, and keys, just avoiding a vase on the table, that you loved. His son hollers louder held in his arms.

You were going to kill him.

You literally left the house with a  “ Just don’t break anything again” as a joke but now it looked like it was coming true...

*Hospital*

The small group was ushered back fairly quickly into a room and for once Henry was slightly glad of his celebrity when it came to his family. He often was irritated when he found intrusive photographs of his family plastered all over the web but this time one look at his license had gotten them into a private room and waiting for Mitch to come back from X-rays. He had called you on the way to the hospital, but you didn’t answer so he left a message and tried his mother with the same result. He had tried a few times but he knew coverage could be spotty and he wasn’t exactly sure of what his mother planned for you. He knew you would feel terrible about not answering not to mention he hated putting you through undo stress because you were carrying the third child of the Cavill brood. That had been the only reason you even went today was to get a breather without a five year old pulling at your skirts, especially since he had just gotten back from filming just over a week ago.

Yep. You just might kill him…

At least he thought. He always worried as a father about his children and where you were concerned he wanted to be everything he couldn’t be when he was away filming. You were such a wonderful mother and he just wanted to match what you did for the family. This was not it.

 Mike is sleepily resting on Henry’s arm as his brief stint with crying had left him knackered. Henry happens to look down at the arm that Mitchell landed on and noticed he is starting to bruise over his arm. Henry is just beginning to look over his sons arm for the extent of the damage when simultaneously while he was touching Mike’s forearm ; there is a similar spot to his brother’s just on the opposite arm that is red and swollen and soon as he touches it gently, Mike cries out; waking up from his sleep, and also you walk in the door.

Alarmed to find one of her sons crying. Mike notices you almost instantly, crying and running over to you.

“Oh my little man what’s the matter?”

“Daddy hurt my arm!” The young boy calls out and wants the comfort of your arms but of course you couldn’t lift him. Normally you would get onto him about that, but that could be saved for later. Besides he was child so his thoughts would be more literal meaning that Henry must have touched his arm or something. 

You lean down as best you could with your 6 month stomach which was reaching the point of cumbersome, but not making you totally immobile as it did with the twins at this point, squatting so you are eye level with him and he wraps himself around you, letting you gently lift his arm. He starts hollering at your slight touch coming further into the room with his mother and father close behind.

You only had one rule really when you left the house this morning and that was for Henry not to break anything...again! However considering you had known whatever happened in your way here, this was a mistake.

The last time you left them alone for an extended amount of time the TV had been broken during a game of catch that you had already told them not to play in the house the night before you went out for the Bridal Shower.

Needless to say you hadn’t been happy with the situation at the time and it was a material thing that could be replaced. Now here you were coming to a hospital cradling one child while the other...wait...where was Mitchell?

“Daddy hurt your arm? I think that may not be the whole truth but it’s okay we can deal with it later. Okay well let’s see if we can get a really nice doctor to take a look at it and I’ll talk to Daddy.”

You say comforting him and pretending to be mad at Henry who honestly already looks wrecked about whatever had happened between the time that you left and now. You press the call button and someone comes in almost immediately which notoriously did not happen; but you weren’t complaining. You asked for them to take a look at Mike as well. They agreed without much problem and after creating a little band for his wrist they agreed to X-ray him and gave him something for his pain.

You waddle over to the chair next to Henry who actually picks up Mike and lets him sit on his lap. He says his hellos to his parents who know the look of exhaustion and being resigned to fate way too well. They take seats as well.

“So where’s the other half of our set?”

You mildly joke.

“He should be back any moment; they’ve taken him to get an X-Ray.”

At that moment a wheel chair appears with a sleepy child in it, his blue eyes drifting in and out of lucidness.

“Moooommmmmmy!!!!”

He says but his voice is dragging indicating they had given him something to ease the pain. You let the nurse help him into bed and go over to him while Henry’s parents take over for comforting Mike.

“Hi baby. How’s your arm?”

“It was hurt-ed momma but it’s not anymore. I feels weird. I sleepy.”

You push back his riotous, dark curls with a soft hand.

“Okay baby go to sleep; Daddy and mommy will be here when you wake up.”

He drifts off and the nurse comes to take Mike for his X-Ray and with the alert child gone; a worried grandfather in tow to watch over him and the other sleeping, you sit back down with a sore back and a smile.

“So what really happened in the couple of hours I was gone.”

Henry looks sheepish; and rubs the back of his neck., his natural curls smushing under his fingers.

“Well we went to the park, but the rain washed us out earlier than intended. So we went back to the house and I cut on a movie, but the boys were playing and the floor was lava and the next thing I heard was a scream...”

“Wait...’the floor is lava’?”

“Yes. Our floors are made of lava and seeing as you can’t touch lava it meant jumping around while I warmed up lunch.”

You sigh but one look at the giant puppy that was your husband, you knew he honestly couldn’t feel any worse than what was happening right now. You were just glad no one had head injuries or irreversible damage. You absently rub your stomach and place a hand on a broad shoulder.

“I feel terrible Y/N. I didn’t think a little rough housing would come to this. My brothers and I had injuries but it was usually from tossing each other around and Rugby. Somehow we managed to avoid the hospital due to our roughhousing.”

You sit up and kiss your husband on the cheek. Henry was an internalizer, so you knew if he looked this upset right now then he felt 100 times worse inside.

“Things happen baby it will be okay. If it makes you feel any better they would have created an even more perilous game. They like to invent new ways to make me tear out my hair.”

The room laughs;

“They don’t normally end up in the emergency room when they are with you...or do they?”

He asks and you laugh shaking your head.

“No, but I’ve had a few close calls that made me question whose bright idea was it to have multiple children at the same time. They can be a handful individually. Babe, don’t beat yourself up about it.”

You rub at his shoulder as a comfort. Henry accepts it and caresses the top with his own. Soon Mike is in a similar state as his brother and they got him in a bed next to him. With both of them unconscious the doctor comes back in with X-ray reports that says both of them have a broken arm.

You sigh and Henry looks devastated and you only shake your head knowing the twins never did anything by the half’s nor did they ever do anything alone.

“I guess the Cavill men don’t do anything by the half huh. I asked all of them not to break anything and they managed it times two.”

A/N: This was meant to be fluff about a peak in the life of Henry Cavill with Children. 

More celebration prompt fics will be posted when I wake up in the am because after work today I just do not have it in me to edit anything else tonight, but I hope you enjoyed this for what it is.

TAGLIST: (OPEN)

Henry tag list

@msblkfire84 @magdelen69 @peeyewpeeyew @agniavateira @fcgrizi @diehadess @mary-ann84 @snowbellexx @tearsontape13 @tvdplusriverdale @p3nny4urth0ught5 @laxgirl1799 @crazymexicanfangirl @iloveyouyen @oddduckthatgirl @pinkcollectorparadiseblr @sweetybuzz25 @normatural

[yan-twst]

( @crazyyanderefangirlfan (〃ω〃) here you go! since you didnt specificy any letters i did the whole thing! it is a long post so i'll put it under a read more!)

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Very strictly- Sebek has a rather particular form of showing love. Whenever he takes his darling out in public he will expect absolute perfect behaviour- no PDA, no speaking unless spoken to. However, he'll become more affectionate behind closed doors: he's still quite shy, so even just kissing or cuddling his darling is sometimes too much and he'll have to go cool off.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Not as much as one would expect. Even though he is definitely well trained and strong enough to stand his ground and his darling's, he is working for Lord Maleus- he can't have his actions sully his lord's name! However, if he accidentally snaps or gets out of hand, he might go beg Lilia for help, and the older fae will certainly make any trace of Sebek's violence disappear.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

He won't mock them, but he is so demanding and high-strung that he comes off as cruel. He expects his darling to serve Maleus too, but obey him at the same time- any time his darling fails at a task, or even worse, fail at something Maleus asked, they'll be subject to get yelled at for hours by Sebek.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He won't touch his darling for affection if they tell him not to- however, he will absolutely order them around without much remorse. His darling is living on a tight schedule set by him, and any rupture to this structured lifestyle might earn them a lecture or a slap if Sebek is at his absolute limit.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He is constantly trying to be the best guard for Maleus, always on guard and ready to pounce. Even though realistically Maleus doesn't expect that much from him, Sebek still feels pressured- he might cry into his darling's chest on particularly bad nights, asking for reassurance that he's doing a good job protecting Maleus and being their partner. If his darling doesn't comfort him, he won't punish them- however he'll be in an extremely bad mood all week, which is never good for anyone.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He's outraged at this behaviour! How dare his darling act out against him?! He's already too busy with school and guardinh Maleus- these actions will not be tolerated. As much as it hurts his heart, he might have to use some painful magic in order to teach his darling a lesson- although he'll definitely cry when he sees his darling in pain, it's something he must do.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

No, it's not. Sebek is quite serious about this relationship- he truly believes that all he does will help shape his darling into an ideal person, and that together they can protect Maleus. He won't tolerate any attempts to escape: after the very first one, he'll get Lilia to put any sort of ancient spell on his darling so they cannot escape. Hell, even Maleus might throw in a curse for Sebek's darling not to run away: the two ancient fae find Sebek's infatuation quite entertaining.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

If his darling ever attempted to hurt Maleus, Sebek would have no mercy in punishing them. He would have tears in his eyes as he cast painful hexes on his darling, leaving them chained up in one of Diasomnia's towers for days on end to starve and suffer under the intense magic. It's bad enough that Lilia has to be the one to put a stop to it, before Sebek caused irreversible damage to his darling's body and mind.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He only has one goal in life, and that is to protect Maleus. He expects his darling to do the same- after all, he believes he can train them into a guard almost as perfect as him! He doesn't have concrete plans for after graduation- he does expect to marry his darling, but it's likely he'll keep by Maleus' side, so his darling better enjoy their new job!

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

It highly depends on who it is that interacts or talks with his darling. If it's people he trusts, like Lilia or Maleus (and even Silver, to an extent) he'll simply keep an eye on them while they're near his darling. Because he knows any bad action of him could bring disgrace to Maleus, he grits his teeth and bears it when he hears other students talk about his darling, although he might snap if he finds himself alone face-to-face with one of these people later.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

When it's just him and his darling, he's shokingly shy. Holding hands is enough tl send his heart into a frenzy and make his whole face red- a kiss could probably kill him. It's like that at first; he doesn't want to scare his darling, but as much as he's shy, he's also... Very, very eager. Expect makeout session when he gets random bursts of courage- although later he'll be so embarrassed he won't even look his darling in the eyes... Until he gets the urge to be close to them again...

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Before kidnapping them, he was both very obvious and yet ignorant to his own feelings. Everyone knew he liked his darling based on how much attention he'd pay to them (and by how much he'd scold them for "trying to distract him"). When he finally has his darling to himself- aka when Maleus asks the headmaster to transfer Sebek's darling to Diasomnia (and Crowley knows better than to refuse: Maleus is too powerful to risk angering) and Sebek keeps them with him at all times- he continues this behaviour, although he already accepted he's deeply in love.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

He's much more tender than he lets on. Even though everyone knows how loud and competitive he is, nobody would guess how soft he is when he's with his beloved. Also, he's very physically needy but shy at the same time: he seeks his darling's affections but never dares vocalise what he wants. His darling better be good at reading his mood, because giving him love when he wants it is the best way to keep him a relatively tolerable partner.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

If it's a spur of the moment thing, he might slap them- however that's as much as he'd harm them in the bodily sense. He feels too bad when he physically hurts his darling, so when punishment is necessary he opts for isolation and magic. He'll read up on hexes and cursed that cause feelings of pain, but no actual bodily harm- he'll still feel incredible sad when he hears his darling scream and cry in pain wherever he locked them up, but he'll take some comfort knowing the pain they feel is "fake" and their body will be fine once the spell wears off

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

If his darling wasn't in Diasomnia before, they are now- and they share a room with him. He'll still let his darling attend to classes; however, the second a class is over they must report back to him. There isn't even any chance for them to ask for help: Sebek will absolutely go the extra mile to find any curse or spell that will force his darling to not be able to talk about their current dilemma. Aside from classes, every waking moment of his darling's time is spent with Sebek.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Not very. He's always high-strung and ready to reprimand someone for not adressing lord Maleus correctly: he has very little tolerance for mistakes or misbehaviours in his darling's part. Luckily he rarely truly "punishes" his darling: for the most part he loudly reprimands them for a couple hours.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

He would be devastated. Death, escape- whatever it was, it simply showed he failed as a lover. He'd definitely blame himself for not being careful enough- and he wouldn't be able to replace his darling, ever. He'll probably grow and marry whatever fae woman crosses his path just to get people to shut up about how he's "worryingly lonely", but he's definitely broken inside for the rest of his life.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No? Why would he? He isn't doing anything wrong- at least that's what Lilia told him (in fact Lilia knows how messed up the whole ordeal is, but... Hey! Free entertainment for him!). Besides, he's definitely helping his darling improve by forcing them to stick to his strict schedule. They should be happy! Thanks to him they get the privileged job of watching over Maleus by his side.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

He's been training his whole life to protect his lord. There simply wasn't any room for love before, and he'd never dealt with such strong emotions. His naturally intense attitude love advice coming from an equally inexperienced Maleus and definitely malicious love advice coming from Lilia who just wanted to see how far Sebek would take it, combined with how much he discovered he enjoyed affection and praise from his darling, ended up being a mix that sealed his darling's fate.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Confusion and guilt. Is this- is this his fault? He definitely panics: he's never had to comfort someone like this in his life. He'll force his darling into bed and tuck them in, trying to confort them how he best remembers babies are comforted- however, if his darling was crying because of him, he'll probably make it even worse with all his attempts to "help".

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

His darling isn't gone from the public's eye: everyone knows very well they are currently in Diasomnia and always by Sebek's side. He isn't trying to keep his darlin for himself only- he truly doesn't mind if they have to interact with teachers during class, or if they have to be seen by classmates. His darling never goes missing: they are just always, ALWAYS, by his side.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

There's not much his darling can do to escape. Sure, his easy to fluster side would be almost too easy to exploit- if his darling took initiative and kissed him, and encouraged him to get handsy, he'd get so overwhelmed and flustered he'd have to excuse himself to "cool off" for a good while. However- because his darling is already hexed and cursed and under god knows how many tracking and entrapment spells, it's an useless endeavour.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Again, he'll never go further than a slap. He's very hesitant to hurt his darling with his hands- however he really won't hesitate to place any sort of spell to cause unbearable, writhing pain on his darling if he believes they deserve it.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Praise him too much and let him get too much confidence and suddenly he's all over his darling. He'd never admit it, but he's a bit of a pervert- he'd probably spent hours staring at his darling before, and now he can't keep his hands off them. But once he regains composure he immediately scrambles off- no! He only serves Maleus!

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

It really doesn't take long. He's never felt this way before, and his trusted seniors are telling him to just act on those dark impulses so... Why not?

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

It wouldn't be shoking. The tight schedule, the expectations, the mental torture of his punishments- his darling is bound to break eventually. Sebek would wonder why his darling's eyes are suddenly so lifeless, and why they speak so robotically- it's like they're just repeating the same words of praise to him without meaning it, barely even talking anymore. However, he doesn't mind: even though his darling isn't fit to be Maleus' guard anymore, they're still his darling- he might even feel less ashamed of affection with a darling so utterly broken!

[fallout-lou-begas]

do you think also being trans absolves you from spreading harmful ideas about testosterone HRT. transphobic trans people can and do exist

if this is still literally just about me tagging "hey baby want to get damaged irreversibly?" re: kristen stewart testosterone potential, then yeah, i'm well aware that transphobic trans people can exist, like the people who come into the askbox of trans women to anonymously read their simplest statements in bad faith to fabricate or overstate the "harm" that they do when they so much as make a joke at the expense of an infamously, laughably, hyperbolically wrong book -- a joke that is in the format of a cheesy pickup line because the point is that kristen stewart is hot and the effects of testosterone are good if you want them (and also hot)? a joke that a lot of other people clearly do not have your same problem with, because your problem is kneejerk paranoia? have you never made the same joke before or do you not have trans guy friends who'll say "irreversible damage" whenever they so much as eat too big of a sandwich or remember their Supernatural phase

[silverlightqueen]

21 Things To Do This Summer PJM

y/n has a week left to live and 21 things she wanted to do this summer. Jimin vows to help her do them all before she dies and give her the summer of a lifetime.

jimin x reader - angst, fluff, comedy, non-idol!au

Part of BangtanHQ’s ‘Bangtan Boardwalk’ at the ‘Summertime Sadness’ booth!

Rating: Mature (heavy themes and strong language - read with caution)

Word Count: 16.9k+ (she’s a monster omg)

Warnings: death and illness, discussion of death and illness, jokes about death and illness, brain tumour, discussion of eating disorders, brief mention of murder and crime (y/n jokes that Jimin could be a murderer or a thief), explicit language throughout, I think that’s it but please let me know if you noticed that I missed anything

a/n: here’s the first part guys! if you enjoy it, make sure to check out the other fics in the Summertime Sadness booth, and the other booths on the Bangtan Boardwalk! a huge thank you to @silverlightprincess​ for proofreading this massive fic, I love you so damn much x

silverlightqueen masterlist

y/n’s Summer Bucket List

21 Things to Do This Summer

1) Make a new friend

2) Dye my hair

3) Go on a road trip

4) Do pavement chalk

5) Get everybody I talk to to sign a shirt

6) Have s’mores at a bonfire

7) Get drunk and skinny dip at the beach

8) Make a wish balloon

9) Go to a fairground

10) Have a picnic

11) Get a tattoo

12) Sleep under the stars

13) Cloud watch

14) Try camping for the first time

15) Have a water fight

16) Make homemade ice cream

17) Have a pyjama day

18) Send a message in a bottle

19) Watch fireworks

20) Go to a drive-in movie

21) Make a photo album of it all

‘Hey! Hey, excuse me! Hey, wait, you dropped something!’ I can hear someone shouting and, despite the tears running down my face, I roll my eyes, wondering why the idiot who dropped something doesn’t stop to get it. ‘Excuse me! Hey, wait!’ I hear, the voice getting closer, before I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I realise; I’m the idiot.

I turn around to see a boy. The first thing I notice is the piece of paper in his hand. The second thing I notice is that I already know him. ‘You dropped thi- oh, y/n! Hey! Long time, no see. Wait, whoa, are you crying?’ he asks, and I roll my eyes again as I frustratedly wipe away my tears. ‘No, Jimin, why? Does it look like I am?’ I spit out sarcastically. ‘Okay, I’m going to ignore how rude that was because you’re clearly upset about something, and I’m going to be a good person and return this to you,’ he says, holding out the piece of paper. When I realise what it is, I snatch it from him, tucking it safely into my bag and mentally chiding myself for nearly losing it.

‘Thank you. Sorry for being rude,’ I say before I turn away, continuing to head home. It’s only after a few seconds I realise he’s walking beside me, and I speed up, trying to get away from him. He speeds up too. I slow down. So does he. I stop in my tracks, turning to shoot him an annoyed look, and he merely grins back at me, blinding me with his annoyingly handsome smile.

‘What do you want, Jimin?’ I ask tiredly, deciding not to be rude after he returned my list to me. ‘Well, it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, so I thought it’d be nice to catch up. And I also know you, and you’re clearly upset about something, and I’m not going to abandon somebody who I have history with if they’re crying. And, as well as being a very caring and empathetic person, I’m very curious, and so I have to find out why you’re upset,’ he says, and I frown, continuing to walk, even more annoyed when he continues to walk alongside me.

‘It’s none of your business, Jimin,’ I say sharply, hoping he’ll leave me alone. ‘Well, obviously. It’s your business. But the nature of being curious is wanting to know other people’s business,’ he says as though he’s speaking to a little child, and I shoot him another look. ‘You’re practically a stranger.’ ‘I am not! We had classes together through the whole of high school!’ ‘I’m not going to tell you my business,’ I say with a note of finality, hoping he’ll leave the subject. And leave me, for that matter.

‘Would you tell me if you knew me better?’ he asks thoughtfully, and I roll my eyes. ‘Probably, yes.’ ‘Okay. I’m a Libra, I hate spinach and 13 is my lucky number. Oh, and I dance,’ he says, and I literally want to bash my head against a wall. ‘That does not mean I know you better. It just means you overshare.’ ‘Well, you can’t say I’m practically a stranger. Maybe only half a stranger,’ he says, and I let out a humourless laugh at how persistent he is, and he grins, mistaking it for a real laugh.

‘God, what is it with you? What do I have to say to you to get you to leave me alone?’ I ask, stopping in the street and putting my hand on my hip. ‘If you tell me why you’re crying. Or, should I say, were? Because, if you haven’t already noticed, you’re no longer crying. Thanks to me,’ he grins, and I actually didn’t notice that I’m not crying anymore.

‘Well, your stupid ass has distracted me,’ I admit, and he laughs, the sound quite… endearing. ‘So? Tell me then. I think I deserve to know. Considering I cheered you up,’ he says, and I roll my eyes yet again. ‘I said that you distracted me. That is not the same as cheering me up. Listen, Jimin, I’d appreciate it if you left me alone. It’s nice to see you again, and I hope everything’s going well in your life, but it is not a good time for me right now. My patience is seriously wearing thin,’ I say, continuing to walk, but he still walks beside me, making me want to throttle him.

‘I think your patience was already thin. And I’m a good citizen, so I would never just let a pretty girl crying pass me by without asking what’s wrong. Especially if I already know her,’ he says lightly, and I roll my eyes. Is he seriously trying to flirt with me? ‘Jimin. Leave me alone,’ I say seriously, putting emphasis on every word as the anger begins to bubble up in my stomach. ‘Not until you tell me what’s wro-’ ‘I have a week left to live!’ I shout, losing my temper, and his face instantly transforms from teasing and light, to shocked and guilty as tears fill my eyes. That’ll teach him not to pry into other people’s business.

‘Oh. Oh, gosh. I’m sorry, y/n. I wouldn’t have asked if that’s what it was. I thought you were gonna say you’d broken up with your boyfriend or something. I’m so sorry,’ he says, sounding sincere, but I merely roll my eyes, turning and walking away, and hoping he’ll leave me alone now. ‘How’d you know?’ I hear him say from beside me, and I sigh aloud, having to physically restrain myself from hitting this boy with my bag.

‘What?’ ‘How’d you know you’ve only got a week left to live?’ ‘I went to the doctor a couple days ago, for chronic headaches. They did some scans, and then I got a call this morning to go to the hospital. They told me I have a brain tumour. Terminal. They said I’m lucky if I have another ten days,’ I say tiredly, a couple tears falling down my face which I wipe away hastily, and he takes a deep breath. ‘Wow. I’m really sorry. That’s… terrible. Is there no treatment?’ he asks, and I sigh again. ‘Yes, but they said it’s unlikely to cure it, it’ll only delay my inevitable death, and it’s… painful. I’d rather die sooner than later if later’s gonna hurt. Or it could get rid of the tumour, but it could ruin my future quality of life; I might not be able to speak the same, walk the same, even think the same. So I’ve refused treatment,’ I explain, not sure why I’m opening up to him, and he nods. ‘Reasonable. I’d do the same.’

We walk in silence for a few moments before Jimin starts speaking again. ‘So. Where are you going now?’ he asks, and I side-eye him. ‘Home.’ ‘To your boyfriend?’ ‘Don’t have one.’ ‘Girlfriend?’ ‘Don’t have one of those either.’ ‘Spouse?’ ‘I’m single.’ ‘Parents?’ ‘Don’t live with them.’ ‘Siblings?’ ‘Only child.’ ‘Friends.’ ‘Don’t have any.’ ‘What about all your friends from school?’ ‘I matured; they didn’t.’ ‘Oop. Roommates?’ ‘Nope.’

‘You live alone?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘I have a dog. If that counts,’ I say, and he grins. ‘Of course it counts. What breed?’ ‘A miniature husky. His name’s Coco, and he’s literally tiny,’ I say, a small smile coming onto my face at the thought of my baby, and he holds a hand to his heart. ‘That’s a cute name. My friend, Taehyung – you remember him, right? – he has a Pomeranian who’s tiny, called Yeontan. Tannie for short. Tan for even shorter,’ he says, and I smile despite myself.

‘That’s so adorable. Maybe Taehyung can have Coco. He’ll need a new owner,’ I say jokingly, and Jimin winces. ‘Don’t you feel like it’s too early to make jokes?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘It’s never too early. By the time it’s okay, I’ll be dead,’ I say bluntly, and he lets out a strangled laugh, as though he wants to hold it back but can’t.

I still feel a little shocked, but mainly numb. I went through the stages of dealing with bad news whilst I was still at the hospital. I started by denying it, and telling the doctor that something in the scan must be wrong. And then I got super angry that it hadn’t already been identified and screamed a little at her (it was my own fault, though – I’m the one that didn’t go to the doctor until it’d been months of me having headaches). Then I tried to bargain with the doctor, and ask if there were any treatments that don’t hurt or wouldn’t cause me irreversible damage, or if there was any chance I would survive any longer. And then I cried. A lot. And by a lot, I mean a lot. I got through a box and a half of tissues. I was at the hospital for three and a half hours, and spent two hours of that crying. And I was still crying when I left.

I guess I’m now in the acceptance stage. I didn’t know it was possible to move through the stages that quickly.

‘What was that paper you dropped? Your diagnosis?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘All my paperwork was in a folder, loads of it. I threw it in the recycling at the hospital.’ ‘Glad to see you’re looking after the planet for those of us that’ll still be here when you’re gone,’ Jimin says, almost tentatively, and I burst out laughing, covering my mouth. ‘That was funny,’ I admit, and he grins, relaxing. ‘I do try.’ ‘Yes, you’re very trying.’

‘Anyway. What was that paper then?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘Do you, like, make it your life’s mission to pry?’ ‘No, it comes naturally. A lot of girls receive it well, actually. They like it when someone good-looking seems interested in their life,’ he smirks, and I shoot him a disgusted look. ‘Big-headed much?’ ‘Just truthful.’ ‘Well, I’m not receiving it well. Clearly.’ ‘I guess you’re not like other girls then,’ he muses, and I shoot him another look. ‘Please don’t tell me you think that’s a compliment, because it isn’t,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. Let me rephrase it. You’re not like the girls that I’m used to being around.’ ‘You’re probably used to being around girls just as pretty as you.’ ‘You think I’m pretty?’ ‘Shut up.’ ‘Well, you’re right. But it’s okay, because you’re not just as pretty as me. You’re prettier.

But anyway. Are you gonna tell me what that paper is?’ he asks again, skimming over the fact he’s now called me pretty for the second time, and I sigh, giving up. ‘It’s a summer bucket list. I saw this girl reading a book with the same name in the waiting room at the doctor’s surgery the other day, and it inspired me to write one,’ I admit, and he grins. ‘That’s cute,’ he says, and I roll my eyes, looking away from him. ‘Well, I’m gonna die before I get to do any of them anyway,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘Oh. Yeah. Forgot about that,’ he says, voice small, and I nod.

We continue walking, his shoulder a few inches from mine, and I distract myself from the slightly awkward silence by looking at our surroundings instead. It’s a lovely summer’s day today; warm and sunny with the most beautiful breeze. Families are out in force despite it being a weekday, little boys running around shirtless and barefoot, and little girls in cute summer outfits. Chill ‘vibey’ music floats through open car windows, couples share ice cream at the café we walk past, birds chirp in the trees that line the road. It’s such a beautiful day. I even shaved my legs and put on a cute floral playsuit. So much for sunbathing in the garden.

‘Hang on,’ Jimin says suddenly, stopping in his tracks. ‘What?’ ‘Who says you can’t tick off your bucket list?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m going to die, Jimin,’ I say slowly, and he lets out a frustrated noise. ‘You have a week. That’s more than enough time for us to do it all,’ he says, and my eyes widen. ‘Us? Who said anything about us?’ ‘I’ve taken it upon myself to help you tick off this bucket list.’ ‘And I’m taking it upon myself to refuse your help.’

‘Um, rude. Why?’ he asks with an amused glint in his eye, and my eyes widen even more. ‘Are you kidding? We barely know each other. The closest we ever were was when Nayeon and Jungkook dated and we all planned at their joint birthday party, and when we got paired together for that History project. That was years ago; I have no idea what kind of person you are now. You could be a murderer,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re going to die anyway,’ he says, and I stifle a laugh. ‘Okay, I’m allowed to joke about it; you are not. You could be a thief.’ ‘Again: you’re going to die anyway. But, I’m not a thief, so don’t worry. You’ll still have all of your belongings to put in your will.’ ‘Excuse me. Stop joking about my imminent death.’

‘Listen, I want to help you. Let me help you tick off your bucket list,’ he pleads, and I’m surprised at myself for actually considering it. I’m going to die anyway – I might as well spend my last few days having fun. Even if it is with an unbearably curious person from my past. ‘Please let me help you. I’ll consider my life a waste if you don’t,’ he says dramatically, dropping to the floor, making enough of a scene for people to look over at us. ‘Jimin, get up,’ I hiss, and he scrabbles at my shoes. ‘I’ll die if you don’t let me. Please, y/n, please let me,’ he wails, and I look around embarrassedly, feeling lots of stares on us.

‘If I say yes, will you stop making such an embarrassment of yourself?’ I hiss, and he looks up at me with wide eyes and a grin, nodding. ‘Then, yes. I’ll let you help me,’ I sigh, and he jumps up from the floor, a wide smile spreading across his lips. ‘Okay, let’s see what I’m working with,’ he says, and I look at him blankly. ‘Let me see the list,’ he prompts, and I pull the list out of my bag, handing it to him tiredly.

‘Okay, let’s see. ‘y/n’s Summer Bucket List’. Cute. ‘21 Things to Do This Summer’. Only 21 things? This’ll be easier than I thought,’ he says, before his eyes scan down the rest of the list. As he reads it, I look him up and down, inspecting him. He’s changed since school. A lot. He’s now around 5’8’’, with clear golden skin, chocolate brown eyes, plump pink lips and ink black hair swept back from his forehead (must be dyed because I remember his hair being a lot lighter than this). He’s dressed in a pair of grey shorts and a plain white t-shirt, a loose grey jacket over the top of it with pair of sunglasses at the back of his head. ‘Okay, well, you’ve already achieved number one. Making a new friend,’ he says, pointing at himself with a grin, and I roll my eyes exasperatedly. ‘I don’t know you well enough to call you a friend,’ I say, and he sighs.

‘That’s the best bit. You barely know me, and I barely know you. We can be whoever we want to be. All I know about you is the vague stuff from school, and I know that you had high hopes for this summer, but you’ve been diagnosed with a terminal illness. And you’ve only got a week left. And that you’re grumpy and get annoyed easily and are not receptive to strangers. And you’ve got a dog called Coco. All you know about me is the vague stuff from school, and that I’m a Libra, I hate spinach, my lucky number is 13, and that I dance.’ ‘And that you’re annoyingly curious and persistent and stubborn and think a lot of yourself.’ ‘Exactly! That’s literally nothing in the grand scheme of things.’

‘So you think we should lie to each other about what and who we are?’ ‘No, no, you’re misunderstanding. Haven’t you ever wanted to be like someone, but you’re too scared to, or you’re too stuck in your ways?’ he asks, voice soft, and I nod. ‘This is your chance. We barely know each other, and we have no more than a week together. You get to be whatever you want to be, y/n, and we’ll tick off everything on your list. We can be like those reckless teenagers from all those stupid films. What have you got to lose?’ he says gently, his eyes big and his words convincing.

‘We can’t do all this in a week,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘Can’t is not in my vocabulary. And neither are cannot, unable to, won’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t, mustn’t-’ ‘Who in this century says mustn’t?’ ‘We can easily do all this in a week. Even less than a week,’ he says, and I raise a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Ambitious, but I don’t think so.’ ‘And that’s not in my vocabulary either. But… give me four days,’ he says, and my eyes widen. ‘Four days?’ ‘Easy. I could probably do it in three, but I’ll say an extra day just to be sure,’ he says confidently, and I roll my eyes.

‘Haven’t you, like… got a job? Or, like, studying? You can’t just devote four days – or more – to helping me tick off my bucket list,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Why are you so sensible? Trust me, there’s nothing I have to do,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow, not believing him for a second. ‘Fine,’ he sighs, ‘I work with my friend – Hoseok, remember him? – at his dance studio, but he’ll let me have some time off,’ he says, and I’m still slightly sceptical, but decide to give him the benefit of the doubt.

‘Why do you want to help me? Haven’t you got better things to do with your life?’ I ask him, voice small, and he smiles, seemingly endeared. ‘There’s something tragic about you, y/n. You went to the hospital alone to be told that you’re going to die. And you don’t live with anybody. And you have a list of things you wanted to do this summer, but won’t be able to do them without help. My help. Of all the places you dropped that paper, you dropped it in front of me. And of all the people that could’ve picked it up, it was me. We haven’t seen each other since we left school, and even though the odds of us seeing each other again were slim, look where we are. Fate works in mysterious ways, y/n. Let me help you. For old time’s sake,’ he says softly, and I feel that little voice in my head whisper, ‘why not?’

‘You know what? Let’s do it,’ I say, throwing caution to the wind, and feeling a little bit of excitement bloom in my chest. ‘Wait, really?’ he asks, surprise on his face but also… hope in his eyes. ‘Yeah. Let’s do it,’ I say with a small smile, the excitement in my chest flooding out into my veins. He jumps up and pumps the air, whooping and shouting in celebration, and I don’t even feel embarrassed of him, finding it quite endearing.

‘Okay, let’s get started. It’s 12.32, so we have until 12.32 on Sunday to tick the whole list off. Let me look at the list again. Um… well, number one’s done. And the last one, the photo album, we can buy a photo album now and take pictures as we go along to put in it,’ he says, thinking aloud, before he turns abruptly. I look around in alarm before rushing after him. ‘Where are we going?’ ‘There’s a supermarket just down the road that we can get a photo album from. Oh, and we can buy an instant camera too! Cuter pictures,’ he says, and I roll my eyes with a small smile on my face.

‘We should just scrap that one. It’s not like I’ll be able to look back at it, so what’s the point?’ I say, and he frowns at me. ‘Well, we could say that about all of this, but it’s about making your last few days exciting and fun and an experience of a lifetime. So don’t say ‘what’s the point’, because there is a point,’ he says firmly, and I keep my mouth shut, unable to stop a small smile from appearing on my face.

We enter the supermarket, the change in temperature making me shiver in my skimpy outfit, and Jimin looks over at me. ‘Oh, my God, my mum would kill me if she knew how ungentlemanly I was being right now,’ he says, taking his jacket off. ‘No, Jimin, it’s fine,’ I try to stop him, but he’s already handing it to me and taking my little backpack from my hand. ‘Let me. Have you ever been treated like a princess?’ he asks, and I shake my head shyly. ‘Then take the jacket and let me hold your bag. It’s the least you deserve,’ he says, and I smile to myself as I shrug on the jacket without further complaint, watching amusedly when he puts on the backpack.

He leads us towards the electronics, the back corner of the store, and makes a beeline for the camera section. ‘What’s your favourite colour?’ he asks, and I hesitate. ‘It’s hard to choose a favourite,’ I say quietly, and he rolls his eyes, an amused smile playing at his lips. ‘Okay. What’s your favourite colour out of these?’ he says, motioning to the instant cameras, and I think before answering, ‘that one. The pastel blue.’ ‘Ah, nice choice,’ he says, picking one of the boxes up and heading over towards where the photo albums are, and I follow after him. ‘This one’s perfect!’ he says, pointing at one the same colour as the camera, and I nod, Jimin picking it up with a grin.

‘Right, let’s just double-check this list and see if there’s anything else we need,’ he says, getting the list out of his pocket again. ‘Hmm, we could buy some chalk to do number 4. And we can buy a shirt and markers to do number 5,’ he says, thinking aloud again, walking ridiculously quickly to where the art and school supplies section where the chalk and markers will be, before rushing off towards the clothes section, having me running around behind him.

Once we’ve picked out a plain white button-up dress shirt, we head over to the counter, Jimin chatting amicably with the cashier as I hang behind, surprised and slightly envious of his ability to speak to strangers like they’re close friends. ‘Would you mind doing us a favour?’ Jimin asks, and the cashier nods instantly, scanning through the shirt. ‘Can you sign this shirt? Just, like, with your name and your… job, I guess. We, um, we’re doing a project,’ Jimin says with a grin at me, and the cashier nods again, looking a little confused as Jimin hands her a marker from the pack. She writes ‘Soojung –supermarket cashier’, before handing Jimin the marker back with a grin.

‘Have you got film for this camera?’ Soojung asks as she scans it through, and Jimin looks to me, both of us exchanging an embarrassed glance. ‘No, but it’d probably help,’ I say frankly, and Jimin nods with a laugh. ‘I’ll go and grab them for you,’ the cashier says, getting up and running off. ‘We could’ve gone and gotten it, she didn’t have to,’ I say, and Jimin grins. ‘Perks of being a nice person – people do things for you that they don’t have to,’ he says pointedly, and I scowl at him. ‘Was that a dig?’ I demand, and he grins even wider. ‘Not at all, my dear, y/n,’ he says, throwing an arm around my shoulders, and I roll my eyes in response, the cashier reappearing with a couple boxes of film.

‘Do you want just the one or…?’ ‘We’ll take both,’ Jimin replies, the cashier nodding, scanning them through. ‘Gonna make some summer memories?’ the cashier asks, and we exchange another glance, a small smile playing at Jimin’s lips when he replies, ‘something like that, yeah.’

‘Okay, let’s have another look at this list,’ Jimin says once we’re seated in the back corner of his favourite coffee shop, pulling the list out of his pocket and reading it through. ‘So you’ve already made a new friend. Me. We’ve got the chalk for number four, and a shirt and markers for number 5. I should sign the shirt, right?’ he says, and I nod, thinking this’ll be easier if I let him do what he wants, and he grins, writing ‘Park Jimin - y/n’s fabulously beautiful assistant and school friend’. I raise an eyebrow, and he raises one back, challenging me to say something, but I just shake my head with a small smile.

‘Let’s look at the rest of them. Number 2, dyeing your hair… I have a trillion boxes of dye at home, that’s easy. Number 3, go on a road trip… we can do that, and tick off the others as we do it. Number 4, pavement chalk, we can do with Taehyung on his and Namjoon’s driveway because Tae’s good at art and their driveway is huge. Number 5, get everyone to sign a shirt, won’t be difficult, we just have to remember. Number 6, have s’mores at a bonfire… let me think about that one. Number 7,’ he begins, before looking up at me with a smirk, and I roll my eyes, a little embarrassed.

‘Don’t laugh. It’s something that so many people have done, and I never have,’ I say defensively, his mouth falling open. ‘You’ve never gotten drunk?’ he asks jokingly, and I laugh despite myself. ‘No, idiot, I’ve never skinny-dipped, but I’m pretty sure I’ll only have the courage to do it if I’m drunk,’ I say, and he nods, looking at me thoughtfully. ‘You can leave me with that one too, I’ll think about it.

Number 8, make a wish balloon, that’s easy. Number 9, go to a fairground… that may be a bit more difficult, but I’ll get it done. Number 10, have a picnic, easy. Number 11, get a tattoo, ooh, that’s fun. I know the perfect place. Number 12, go to a drive-in movie… difficult, but I’ll find a way. Number 13, cloud watch, super easy. Number 14, try camping for the first time, that’s easy too. Number 15, water fight… that’s easy as well. Number 16, homemade ice cream, easy. Number 17, pyjama day, even easier. Number 18, send a message in a bottle… should be easy. Number 19, run through sprinklers… shouldn’t be too hard. I hope. Number 20, stargaze and fall asleep under the stars, should be easy enough. And Number 21 is well under way already,’ he says with a grin.

The photo album already has two pictures in it; one of Jimin and I smiling and squinting in the sunlight, and one of us with the cashier, who looks a little awkward, but it’s fine. Nothing will be more awkward than telling her we’re trying to tick off a summer bucket list within a few days because I’m going to die soon. I was right – Jimin has a serious habit of oversharing.

‘Hi, welcome to the Sweetbrew. I’m Yoongi, I’ll be your server. What can I get you?’ a barista says, sounding like he wants to die, his entire face hidden behind a menu. ‘Yoongi,’ Jimin says, snatching the menu to reveal a boy with porcelain skin, mint green hair and brown eyes. I recognise him as one of Jimin’s best friends from school – Min Yoongi.

He was always one of the quieter members of their friendship group. Not shy, but more calm and laidback – it was easy to seem like that when surrounded by his friends, every single one of them having been big and loud characters. But he was just like the rest of them in that he was definitely popular, and desirable too. Everyone saw him as this sensitive and kind boy, his passion for music reinforcing that even more, and there was always somebody that was crushing on him, his look unique and intriguing. And he’s only gotten better looking since school, more mature and manly, yet still with the soft and delicate features that he had back then.

‘Oh, Jimin. Hey,’ he says, sounding a little more lively, before he turns to look at me. ‘Ah, y/n, right? From school?’ he asks, and I’m surprised at how quick he recognises me. ‘I told the group chat about you. Sorry,’ Jimin says, and my eyes widen, Yoongi sitting in the spare seat at our table. ‘What? When?’ I ask, and he grins. ‘While you got distracted playing with that puppy outside the supermarket,’ he says, and I frown.

‘Did you tell them everything?’ ‘No. Well, nearly everything. I told them what we’re doing, but I didn’t say why. Obviously,’ he says, and I fix him with a glare. ‘Oh, it’s okay to tell a random shop worker, but not your best friends?’ I ask, Yoongi shooting him a look too. ‘Not cool, Park,’ Yoongi says, and Jimin scowls. ‘I already apologised for that. I have a serious problem with oversharing,’ he says, Yoongi and I exchanging a glance as we chorus, ‘we know.’

‘Why are you doing this? If you don’t mind me asking,’ Yoongi asks, curiosity in his eyes, and I sigh. ‘I’ve got a brain tumour, so I’ve got, like, a week left to live,’ I say bluntly, Yoongi’s mouth falling open. ‘Oh. Oh, God, I’m so sorry, y/n, that’s awful,’ he says, sounding a little awkward, but I wave him off. ‘It’s fine. I’ve already gone through the five stages, and am now sufficiently distracted from my impending demise by your stupid friend,’ I say, Jimin scowling.

‘Well, at least he can make up for being stupid by helping you tick off your list. Anyway, you guys want drinks or you just chilling?’ Yoongi asks, and Jimin looks to me to answer. ‘I could do with a drink.’ ‘What would you like, y/n?’ Yoongi asks, and I hesitate, not quite sure. ‘Um… I don’t know. Jimin, what do you have?’ I ask, but Jimin already looks like he’s cooking up a scheme. ‘What fruits do you like, y/n?’ he asks me, and I think for a moment before answering, ‘berries, pineapple, mango, kiwi, peach. I like everything.’

Yoongi and Jimin exchange a glance, talking without words, and Yoongi nods before disappearing into the back. ‘Anyway. We need to get Yoongi to sign your shirt before we leave, remember. And then… we can go to Tae and Joon’s to do pavement chalk. And we should be able to make the ice cream at Tae and Joon’s too. Then we can go and pick up stuff from our houses before we go on the road trip,’ he says, and I hold up a hand.

‘We’re gonna have to go to mine before we go to Taehyung and Namjoon’s, because I’ve left Coco with the neighbour. I told her I’d only be a couple hours and it’s already been… nearly four,’ I say, Jimin nodding, and I can practically see his mind working. ‘We can get Coco and take her to theirs, and she can play with Tan while we get on with ticking things off. And then we can take her on the road trip with us the next day,’ he says, and I nod, getting more and more excited with his ideas.

‘Are you gonna drop me home tonight and then pick me up in the morning?’ I ask, and he thinks. ‘How about… we sleep over at Tae and Joon’s? You can get all your stuff when we go now, and then we’ll be able to leave first thing in the morning,’ he suggests, but I’m sceptical. ‘Won’t they mind?’ I ask, and he shakes his head instantly. ‘They’re so chill about this kinda stuff. They really won’t mind. We all sleep over at their house all the time because it’s the biggest. There’s more than enough space,’ he says, obviously trying hard to convince me, and I nod. There’s no point worrying about intruding at their house when their best friend seems to be the most intruding person in history.

Jimin looks back down at the list, thinking hard, and I smile to myself. It’s sweet that he’s putting so much effort in to try and tick off this list, even though we barely know each other. The most we ever said to each other at school would’ve been ‘d’you have a spare pen?’ or ‘can you pass me the bottle opener?’

Yoongi reappears after a couple minutes with two plastic cups in his hands, the drinks within them vibrant pink and orange. ‘I call this one… ‘y/n’s summer bucket list’. I put in the syrups for all the fruits you named and a lot of sugar and ice,’ he says, putting them down with a flourish, my heart warming as I smile at him. ‘Thank you. It looks amazing,’ I say, taking a sip, my eyes widening as the flavours explode in my mouth. ‘And it tastes amazing too,’ Jimin says, having already taken a (large) gulp.

‘I’m not the best barista here for nothing. But, y/n, you gotta take the credit. It is named after you,’ Yoongi says, and I roll my eyes with a smile. ‘Get out of here. But, for real, it tastes great, Yoongi,’ I say, the boy giving me the cutest gummy smile, and then I notice Jimin fiddling around with the camera. ‘What are you trying to do?’ I ask, stifling a laugh, and he sighs defeatedly. ‘Take a picture of us with your drink,’ he says, and I hold back a smile, ‘get someone else to take it.’

He ropes in an innocent woman sat beside us with her friend, and she takes a while to focus the camera on us and get the three of us in frame, but when the photo develops, it’s pretty good. ‘Perfect. Right, let’s head back and get Coco,’ Jimin says, and I hold out a hand. ‘Wait. Yoongi, will you sign this shirt?’ I ask, and he looks a little confused. Nevertheless, he signs it as ‘Min Yoongi – creator of the iconic ‘y/n’s summer bucket list’ drink and y/n’s school friend’.

Jimin looks thoughtful as we rise from our seats, and I side-eye him. I’ve noticed that a little bit of panic appears in my chest when I see that look on his face. ‘Yoongi, you busy tonight?’ Jimin asks, and Yoongi shakes his head. ‘I’m never busy,’ he says, and I stifle a laugh. ‘When d’you get off work?’ ‘4.’ ‘Come ‘round to Tae and Joon’s. I got an idea,’ Jimin says cryptically, wiggling his eyebrows at me, and I give him a look.

‘Okay. See you guys later then,’ Yoongi says before turning to head into the back. ‘Wait. Don’t we need to pay?’ I ask, and Yoongi smiles at me, a little sadness behind the expression. ‘It’s on the house. I might even speak to the manager about getting this drink put on the menu,’ he says, and I smile at him, trying to ignore the tears in my eyes. ‘Good idea. Thanks, Yoongi. See you later,’ I say, Jimin bidding him goodbye as he disappears into the back. ‘Okay,’ Jimin turns to look at me with a grin, ‘let’s go get Coco.’

‘Oh, y/n. Oh, my angel, I’m so sorry,’ Mrs Choi says for the eleventh time, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief, and I smile sadly. ‘It’s okay, Mrs Choi,’ I say, not sure what else to say, when Jimin appears at my elbow. ‘Everything’s in the car now, so whenever you’re ready,’ he says with a grin as he hands me the house keys, Mrs Choi looking him up and down. ‘Oh, Mrs Choi, this is Jimin… an old school friend. Jimin, this is Mrs Choi, my lovely neighbour who my dog likes more than me,’ I say, Mrs Choi laughing as Jimin shakes her hand, bowing his head politely.

‘Oh, don’t be silly, y/n, Coco adores you. He cries whenever you leave him with me,’ she says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘And then cries when I come to pick him up,’ I point out, and she waves a hand dismissively. ‘It’s because I feed him so much,’ Mrs Choi says, and I laugh, Coco appearing in the doorway behind her. He comes bounding up to me, my heart filling as he rests his front paws on my leg, and I bend down to pick him up. ‘Hi, baby. You okay?’ I say, showering him in kisses, and ducking away when he tries to lick my face. I hate when he licks my makeup off.

‘That is the cutest dog ever,’ Jimin says, and I hold Coco out to him. He instantly takes him into his arms, and giggles when he licks the tip of his nose. Coco leaps out of his arms, and he panics, trying to catch him, but he does it all the time, bounding around the front garden. ‘Here,’ Mrs Choi says, handing Jimin the little tennis ball she keeps beside the door for when she plays with Coco. He instantly throws it and Coco bounds after it, running straight back to him with it in his mouth.

‘He’s handsome,’ Mrs Choi observes quietly so Jimin can’t hear, and I roll my eyes. ‘And doesn’t he know it?’ ‘Are you… and him…?’ ‘Oh, God, no. I… there’s a list of things I wanted to do this summer, and he’s helping me get through it all before I...’ I trail off, and she nods, blinking furiously, obviously trying not to cry. ‘That’s lovely of him. Make sure you take lots of pictures to show me,’ she says, and I grin. ‘We’ve already started a photo album. Actually. Hold on,’ I say, getting the camera out of my bag as Jimin bends down to pet Coco who jumps on him, the unexpectedness making him fall onto his back. I get a really cute picture of him lying down, laughing, with Coco on his chest, trying to lick his face.

‘Lovely. Well, I’ll let you get to it. But make sure you come to see me again before… well, when you get back from ticking off your list,’ she says, pulling me into a hug, and I screw my eyes shut, trying my hardest not to cry in front of her. She’s been like a mother figure to me since I moved out of my parents’ house, always coming over to check if I’m okay, bringing me food and inviting me around at least once a week, looking after Coco whenever I need her to. I’m heartbroken that I’m going to be leaving a hole in her life when I go.

‘I will. See you later, Mrs Choi,’ I say, pulling away from her, and we exchange a sad smile. ‘See you, y/n. Be careful, dear, and have fun,’ she says sadly, pressing a kiss to my cheek, giving me one last long look before she disappears into her house. I don’t blame her; I’d be struggling to deal if I were in her position.

‘Okay. Let’s go,’ I call to Jimin who’s sat cross legged on the floor, Coco running towards him with the ball and dropping it beside him. Jimin’s standing when I reach them and he hands me the ball, Coco’s eyes never leaving it. ‘Do you want Coco to sit on my lap or do you mind him sitting in the back?’ I ask, as we walk towards his car, and he shrugs. ‘He can sit in the back, I don’t mind,’ he says, and I pull open the back door, putting the ball in there, and Coco leaps in without hesitation. I shut the door behind him before climbing into the passenger seat, Jimin already sat in the driver’s seat.

‘You ready?’ he says excitedly as he starts the engine, putting on the radio which is currently playing Justin Bieber. ‘Yep. Let’s do this,’ I say, sneaking one last look at Mrs Choi’s house. And then it hits me. This might be the last time I look at her house. I might die before I get to see her again.

My body goes cold all over, tears prickling in my eyes as my throat constricts painfully. It just repeats in my head again and again; ‘I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die.’

Coco realises I’m upset before Jimin does, and he begins to whine from the backseat. ‘Is Coco okay?’ I hear Jimin’s voice distantly, and when I don’t reply, I hear him coo, ‘Coco? What’s the matter, boy?’ And then he looks over at me.

‘Oh,’ he breathes out, instantly pulling over. ‘y/n,’ he says gently, reaching out to take one of my hands, and the second his skin touches mine, I burst into tears. He shuffles as close as he can, the gearstick separating us, and he leans across the gap, pulling me into his arms. I sob into his shoulder, letting him hold me as the tears come in an endless flood, whispering the words ‘I’m going to die’ every few seconds.

Once I’ve calmed down (and feel ridiculously uncomfortable in the position we’re in), I gently push away from him, and he releases me, still holding one of my hands in his. ‘Sorry,’ I whisper, and he frowns. ‘Don’t apologise. You’re allowed to be upset. Like, you’re going to die, for God’s sake; you can cry about that. Cry as much as you want, you’re entitled to do so. Just… tell me when you’re upset so I don’t say something stupid,’ he says ruefully, a small laugh falling from my lips, and he grins.

‘It’s just… it’s not fair. There’s still so much I wanted to do with my life. I’ll never work in my dream job. There are so many beautiful places I’ll never get to see. Tokyo, Mexico, Portugal, Bali, Dubai, India, Australia, Brazil, Hawaii, The Caribbean, The Maldives, Greece, Morocco. So many things that everyone does that I’ll never get a chance to do. Fall in love, get married, have a family. I’ve never even been in a relationship,’ I say with a harsh laugh, and Jimin sighs.

‘You’re right, y/n. It’s not fair, it’s not fair at all. You deserve so much more, so much better. You’ve been robbed of the rest of your life. You’re allowed to be angry. I’m angry,’ he says so simply, and it feels as though his words just… make it all okay. It’s hard to explain, but they feel like a consolation. They make me feel like the way I’m feeling isn’t me just being irrational, or a spoiled brat, because I know that it could be worse. They make me feel like I’m justified in my thoughts and feelings. And that’s what I need right now.

‘Thank you,’ I say, sniffling a little, and he smiles at me. ‘You’re most welcome, y/n. Now. Are you ready to go to Tae and Joon’s or would you like to cry for a little longer?’ he says teasingly, and I laugh, shoving him gently. ‘Drive, you moron,’ I say, and he gasps as he starts up the car, a small grin playing at his lips as he says, ‘Moron? I’m about to give you the summer of a lifetime in four days. Do you think a moron could do that? No, of course they couldn’t.’

‘y/n! Oh, my God, girl, it’s so good to see you!’ Taehyung exclaims the second I open the car door, running over from the front door and throwing his arms around me. I was always a little closer to Taehyung than I was to Jimin, because we had quite a few classes together. I hug him back, my face practically smushed against his chest as he holds me in a bone-crushingly tight embrace.

‘Hey, Taehyung. How have you been?’ I ask as he releases me, his hands still on my shoulders. He holds me at arm’s length, looking me up and down, before an appreciative grin spreads across his face. I hold back from pointing out that he still has the same adorable boxy smile from high school. And then I register his bright blue hair, stifling a laugh at how eccentric he still is. ‘I’m good. You got hot, y/n!’ he exclaims, and I feel blood rushing to my face from embarrassment.

‘Thank you. But look at you! You’re so handsome, Tae,’ I grin, and he grins back with a little wink. Everything about him is just as appealing as back then. Tae was definitely a ladies’ man… and a men’s man too. He was loud and bubbly, his personality easily grabbing the attention of everyone in any room, and his laugh was crazy infectious. He was the perfect mix of cute and hot, and he’s only gotten hotter, with his manly features and strong build.

‘Thank you, babe. Come in, come in. Jimin, do you need a hand with the bags? No? Good,’ he says, not even waiting for an answer from Jimin before he drags me up towards the house, the other boy muttering behind us as I hear him pop the boot open.

The second I step over the threshold, a ball of fluff appears and begins yapping at me from behind Tae, and he bends down to pick it up. ‘y/n, this is my beloved son, Kim Yeontan, or Tannie for short,’ Taehyung says, introducing me to his little Pomeranian, who has now quietened down and is staring at me with a curious look in his eyes. ‘Hi, Tannie,’ I coo at the dog, reaching a hand out to stroke his head, and he lets me with a contented little growl low in his throat.

‘Ah, he likes you! He rarely likes strangers. Little coward,’ Taehyung says affectionately as I slip off my shoes, Jimin appearing in the doorway with my bag (a suitcase, actually – yes, I might be dying soon, but I wanna make sure I look good when I do, so I had to bring plenty of clothes) in one hand, and Coco in the other. And then the barking match starts.

Coco and Yeontan incessantly yowl and woof at each other, both of them scrabbling to get out of Jimin and Tae’s arms. And then Taehyung puts Tan down, and Tan instantly shuts up, hiding behind his dad’s legs. Jimin does the same, putting Coco down, and he tries to get Jimin to pick him up again. ‘They’re both cowards,’ I mutter with a smile as Taehyung leads us down the front hallway, Yeontan trotting along beside him as I follow behind, Coco hanging back with Jimin as he takes his shoes off and shuts the front door.

We enter the kitchen, and if it wasn’t clear from the outside of the house, it’s made clear now; this house is beautiful, and expensive. It’s roomy and spacious, modern and clean, with classy and tasteful furnishings. ‘I love your house, Tae. It’s so nice, and I love the way you’ve decorated,’ I say, and he beams at me, eyes nearly disappearing behind their lids. ‘Thank you, y/n. It was all me – Joon has no sense of decoration,’ he says, sounding genuinely touched, and Jimin raises an eyebrow at me as he walks in. ‘Look at you sucking up,’ he mutters with a grin, and Tae and I both shoot him dirty looks.

‘You want something to drink, y/n? Before we get started on the chalk?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘I’m okay, thank you,’ I reply, but he’s already distracted with the list that Jimin’s put in front of him on the marble island counter. ‘Ooh, so this is the list? Let’s have a look,’ he says before reading it intently. Once he’s done, his eyes flit up to me, before flitting back down to the page.

‘Don’t take offence to this, okay?’ he says, and I already brace myself for a mocking remark. ‘Some of this stuff is, like, basic teenager stuff. How have you not done all of this already?’ he asks softly, and I feel a little embarrassed. ‘I don’t know, I just… after high school, I drifted from the girls – I still talk to them every now and then, but it isn’t the same – and I didn’t really… make any new friends to do these kind of things with. I have my work friends, but the most I’ve ever done with them is a night out. And in high school, I guess I was… too cautious and too scared to join in on these kind of things. We went on a group trip to the beach – I was the only one that didn’t skinny dip. The end of school prank was dyeing our hair in the school toilets – I was the one of the only ones that didn’t dye mine. Everyone planned a camping trip together – I didn’t go. I was, and still am, a little… uptight, I guess? I wanted to change that this summer, but…’ I trail off, and Tae surprises me by nodding sadly.

‘Jimin told me on the phone while you were talking to your neighbour,’ he says, and I shoot Jimin a look. ‘I thought it’d be better if you didn’t have to keep telling people!’ he exclaims defensively, and I nod with a roll of my eyes, thinking his reasoning is fair enough. ‘I’m really sorry, y/n. There’s not much someone can say in these kind of situations, but I just want you to know that I’m so sorry, and that it’s so unfair,’ he says gently, and I smile sadly. ‘Thank you. I appreciate that.’

‘Now, anyway. Shall we get on with this list? I know Jimin said that we can start with chalk and ice cream, but…’ Tae says, voice a lot more cheerful as he sidles over to me, twisting a lock of my hair around his finger, ‘I think we should dye your hair first.’ ‘Dye it?’ I say, lifting a hand to pat my hair protectively, having not yet worked up the courage. ‘Yep. I have trillions of box dyes upstairs – you can choose any colour you like,’ he says, and I look over at Jimin who grins, nodding encouragingly.

A few minutes later, I’m sat on a stool in Tae’s lavish bathroom, a towel resting over my shoulders as I inspect the boxes laid out on the counter in front of me, Taehyung and Jimin stood behind me as Coco and Tan play in Tae’s bedroom (they seem to be the best of friends now). ‘I’m thinking I shouldn’t go too wild considering it’ll be my funeral in a little while and my parents will probably want an open casket,’ I say musingly, Taehyung choking on air as Jimin holds back a smile.

‘Good idea. Maybe… highlights or ombre rather than the whole head?’ Jimin suggests, and I nod, feeling a little more at ease at not having to take the full plunge. ‘Okay… what colour then?’ Taehyung asks, and I look at all the colours. ‘Um… I don’t know. It’s really difficult,’ I say a little timidly, both boys nodding reassuringly, trying to give me a little more confident. ‘You’re right, it is difficult. How about… two platinum blonde streaks at the front of your hair?’ Taehyung asks, and I nearly choke.

‘Blonde streaks… like an e-girl?’ I ask, and Tae laughs, nodding. ‘It’s on trend, and I think you’ll be able to pull it off really well,’ Tae says thoughtfully, and whilst I’m still not convinced, Jimin nods excitedly. ‘Yes, that’d look amazing! Go on, y/n, you should!’ Jimin urges, eyes locked with mine in the mirror, and I sigh before nodding with a small smile. ‘Why not? Go for it,’ I say, the two of them exchanging a grin.

Before I know it, the front sections of my hair have been bleached and foiled, and a timer has been set for 20 minutes. And Jimin is contemplating dyeing his own hair. ‘I mean, I’ve had black for so long, and I need a change, right? I’ve been wanting to go bright for a while. But do I go a natural bright, or a colourful bright?’ he muses, Tae fake yawning at him in the mirror, coaxing a giggle from me, but Jimin doesn’t notice, too busy inspecting the dye boxes.

‘If it helps, I liked it when you went blond at school. You look nice blond,’ I say, and he looks at me in the mirror with a thoughtful look in his eyes. ‘Bright blond, or platinum blond, or dirty blond?’ he asks, and I think for a moment before answering, ‘bright blond.’ ‘Okay, let’s go bright blond then,’ he says instantly, disappearing off to get a towel from Tae’s airing cupboard.

‘That was… interesting,’ Tae says with a smirk at me in the mirror, and I look back at him confusedly. ‘How so?’ ‘He never takes anyone’s advice when it comes to his hair dye. And he never decides that quick,’ he says, his smirk even wider, but Jimin reappears before I can reply. I try to shake off Tae’s words as Jimin looks for the right box dye.

‘Maybe I should dye my hair too,’ Tae says, looking at his blue locks in the mirror. ‘I like you with brown hair, Tae. I’d like it if you had brown hair at my funeral,’ I say, and his eyes widen slightly at the mention of it again. ‘Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. We should all have natural colours for the funeral, out of respect,’ Jimin says, and I frown. ‘No, I don’t mind if you guys had the craziest colours ever. I just think you look so… classically handsome with brown hair, Tae,’ I say, and he looks smug at my compliment. ‘Okay,’ he grins, reaching for a box dye, Jimin and I exchanging a look in the mirror as he says, ‘guess I’m going brown then.’

‘When did you go brown, Tae? And you blond, Jimin?’ a voice suddenly says, making all three of us jump. There’s a man stood on Taehyung’s front garden, and I remember him as Jung Hoseok from school. He was cute back then, but he’s handsome now with his golden skin and his silky brown hair. ‘About… 90 minutes ago,’ Taehyung says, currently drawing what looks like a heart but could also be an alien, and Hoseok nods as though it’s perfectly normal.

‘Hey, y/n. Your hair looks nice,’ Hoseok says, shooting a heart-shaped smile at me, and I smile back. I’m still not used to my hair being blonde when it falls into my face, but it does look nice – Tae and Jimin did a good job. ‘Hey, Hoseok. Thank you. Tae and Jimin did it.’ ‘Please, call me Hobi. Anyway, how are you?’ he says before wincing, obviously already aware of my situation. Jimin really can’t keep his mouth shut. ‘I’m okay. How are you?’ I ask, and he nods, replying, ‘I’m good. Excited to work on this list.’ ‘Well, get some chalk and get your ass down here to help us,’ Jimin says from where he’s sprawled out on the gravel, drawing a dog (or attempting to, anyway).

We’ve been working on the chalk for just over an hour, listening to music from Taehyung’s speaker that’s sat in the doorway (Coco and Tan have already knocked it over several times whilst they’ve been playing). Bright chalk covers nearly all of Taehyung and Namjoon’s driveway – except for where Tae and Jimin’s cars are – rainbows, flowers, hearts, clouds surrounding us (as well as a bunny, a pineapple, a unicorn, a slice of watermelon and Jimin’s dog).

‘It looks like you’re nearly done,’ Hoseok observes, and I nod, wiping my forehead clean of sweat. ‘Yeah, we are. This isn’t as fun as I thought it was going to be,’ I say frankly, the others all laughing. ‘The fun comes from taking pictures with the chalk,’ Taehyung says, and I get up instantly. ‘Okay, let’s just take pictures and then carry on with the list,’ I say, the three of them laughing again as Jimin and Taehyung get up from the floor.

Taehyung instantly goes into director mode, making me lie down in a gap in the chalk. Jimin stands over me, one foot on either side of my waist, taking pictures on both the camera and his phone whilst Taehyung directs him on how to take them and me on how to pose, Hobi using his phone torch to give us better lighting (it doesn’t make much of a difference, but he’s trying).

I start to feel a little embarrassed, wondering what we must look like to Tae’s neighbours, before I remember that life is short – mine especially – so I should make the most of it without worrying what people think of me. After a few minutes (and a few dozen pictures), I get into it a little more, and the boys all begin hyping me up, Jimin making a few flirty comments here and there.

And then Jimin joins me, Taehyung taking the camera and Hobi directing us (he’s even more… bossy than Taehyung, instructing us down to the simplest things – the positions of our fingers, the direction we look in, the angle of our heads. Everything.)

‘You guys are gonna make her regret asking for help,’ a voice comes from the driveway, all of us looking over to see Namjoon and Jungkook from school stood there, leaning against the Jimin’s car. ‘Watch the car!’ Jimin exclaims, both of them heading over. ‘Just for the record, I didn’t ask for help. Jimin forc- I mean, Jimin volunteered his help,’ I say, correcting myself when he shoots me a dirty look, the others laughing.

‘It’s good to see you guys again. Did you walk here?’ I ask, and Namjoon nods. ‘It’s good to see you too. Jungkook picked me up from work, and then we dropped his car off and walked here. We all live really close to each other. Jimin, Jungkook and Hobi live on the road up there, and Jin and Yoongi live on the road down that way,’ Namjoon points, and I nod, thinking how sweet it is that they all live so close together.

‘JK, the blue’s gonna have to go,’ Tae says to the baby of their group. He’s changed more than all of them; he still has his big eyes and his cute bunny teeth, but that’s where the similarities end. He’s so handsome, and his body is lean and tall. Not as tall as Namjoon, though; he always was tall, but he’s grown even more now, and he’s gorgeous, with his dimples and blond hair. It’s like only beautiful people are allowed in their friendship group.

‘What?’ Jungkook asks, confused, his eyes wide. ‘You need to dye your hair brown again,’ Tae says, Jungkook frowning. ‘Why? I’ve only been blue for a couple days. Don’t you like it?’ ‘It looks great, but we’re all going natural out of respect, for y/n’s funeral,’ Jimin says casually, Jungkook choking and Namjoon slapping his back with wide eyes. ‘Jimin. You can’t just drop it in like that,’ Hobi reprimands, but I wave it off. ‘It’s fine, I’d prefer if we just spoke about it normally. Anyway, you don’t have to go brown, Jungkook, it’s okay,’ I say, Jungkook nodding, still looking a little shell-shocked.

‘Can we get up now?’ I say to Hobi from where I’m lying on the floor, shoulder-to-shoulder with Jimin, and he shakes his head. ‘If you want to make a scrapbook, you can’t just have pictures of you and Jimin in it. You need to get pictures with all of us,’ he says simply, and I bite my tongue, knowing I’ll just have to suck it up. Twenty minutes later, I’ve taken several pictures with all of the boys, and it was a little fun, I guess. We’ll have run out of film by the end of the day at this rate.

But my head’s starting to hurt a little, and I know I can’t take anymore. ‘Can we stop now? I’ve got a bit of a headache,’ I say, sitting up, and they all look a little worried. ‘Is it from being under the sun for so long?’ Hobi asks, nervously, but Tae speaks before I can reply; ‘no, it’s probably the hair dye.’ Jimin looks at them both incredulously. ‘I think it’s the tumour in her brain,’ he says slowly, and I can’t help but share his exasperation at their stupid suggestions, the boys all falling into a shocked silence as Jimin looks to me with thinly-veiled amusement.

‘Yeah, I think you’re right, Jimin, it probably is,’ I say, holding back a laugh. ‘Do you want some painkillers?’ Tae asks weakly, and I smile, shaking my head. ‘I’m okay, thanks. I might just have a little lie-down, if that’s okay?’ I ask, Tae nodding straight away. ‘I’ll show you to one of the guest rooms and you can have a shower, or a nap, if you want?’ Tae suggests as Hobi and Jimin help me up, my head dizzy and light, and I nod. ‘That sounds perfect.’

I blink in the slices of soft sunlight that fall between the blinds onto the bed, sitting up carefully. My head feels a lot better after that nap, which was the best nap of my life, by the way. Tae and Joon must be seriously rich, because this bed is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in. And the room is super lavish, monochrome and clean, with a deep carpet and expensive looking furnishings. The bathroom was nice too, and I dragged out my shower a lot longer than usual, my skin smelling fresh with Tae and Namjoon’s expensive passionfruit body wash.

I slowly climb out of the bed, looking at myself in the floor to ceiling mirror on the wall opposite me. I still can’t get used to the hair, but it does look good. Tae has good taste, and he and Jimin put the dye in really well – the front sections of my hair are the perfect vibrant blonde. Tae put all these different haircare products in it after he washed out the dye, and it feels healthier than ever before. It’s obvious he’s dyed his hair plenty, because he’s clearly an expert. He could be a hairdresser if he wanted to.

I open my suitcase and get out a bralet to put on (my pyjamas are satin, and I’d rather not have my nipples visible through them in a room full of childhood friends I haven’t seen for years) and put it on beneath my black button-up pyjama shirt. I quickly splash some water over my face to wake myself up a little before I head downstairs, following the loud voices that lead me into the kitchen. Namjoon’s stood at the counter, making coffee, Jungkook, Jimin, Tae and Hobi sat around the breakfast bar with two new arrivals; Yoongi, and Seokjin. Seokjin literally hasn’t aged a day, and he’s somehow even more handsome than he was back then, with his plump lips and swept back dark hair.

‘Sleeping beauty awakes!’ Jimin exclaims when he sees me walk in, and I smile softly, still a little sleepy. His blond hair really does look good, the perfect summer colour, and Tae’s looks really good too – the dark brown locks make him look like a model. ‘y/n! They were right, you really are gorgeous!’ Jin exclaims, jumping up and pulling me into a hug, and I try to supress the embarrassment I’m feeling at them talking about me, and telling Jin I’m gorgeous. One thing I remember about Jin was that he never used to feel embarrassed, at anything. Sometimes he’d get a little shy, and his ears would go red, but he’d never hesitate to do something, even if it was embarrassing, if it would help to ease any awkwardness and make people feel comfortable.

His hugging me, despite us barely speaking when we went to school together and not having seen each other for years, is just what I need, and a perfect example of how kind Jin is.

‘Thanks, Jin, but look at you! You’re really handsome,’ I say honestly, feeling at ease after his hug, and he grins at me. ‘You didn’t call me handsome, y/n, but you called Tae and Jin handsome,’ Jimin pouts, and I roll my eyes at him. ‘She knows Tae and I are the best-looking, that’s why,’ Jin says, and Jimin scowls at him before looking back at me, still waiting for an answer. ‘Just because I didn’t say it out loud, doesn’t mean I didn’t think it,’ I say matter-of-factly, and he grins proudly. ‘What about the rest of us?’ Hobi asks, all of them flashing smiles at me, and I blink a few times. ‘You’re all handsome. Now stop smiling at me before I faint,’ I say, all of them laughing.

‘Coffee, y/n?’ Namjoon asks, but I shake my head. ‘I’m trying to cut down on my caffeine intake. Thanks, though,’ I say, and Jimin frowns. ‘y/n, it’s not like it matters,’ Jimin says, everyone wincing, and I laugh, nodding in agreement. ‘You’re right. I will have some, please, Namjoon,’ I say, everyone laughing again as Namjoon nods with a smile, getting another mug out for me. ‘Sit down, y/n,’ Tae says, patting the empty seat between him and Jungkook, and I sit in it, feeling a little self-conscious. I’m in my pyjamas, with no makeup and slight bedhead, and they’re all just… so handsome.

‘What do you guys do? For you all to be at home at… 5.38 on a Wednesday?’ I say, reading the time on the clock. I have all of the boys on social media, so I vaguely know some of what goes on in their lives, but not much. It’s hard to keep track of everyone from school. ‘Um, I own my own photography business. We do photography for weddings, parties, photo shoots, etc. and we’ve had some pretty high-profile clients, so we’re quite successful. And I do some art on the side, and some of my paintings have sold well, hence the fancy house. I get to work from home most of the time, because I mainly do editing – I’ve hired photographers, but I do a couple weddings here and there,’ Tae says, and I’m impressed, though not surprised. Tae always did have a talent for art, and he was the photographer for the school newspaper, so this career is perfect for him.

‘I own my own dance studio, and we only open on Monday and Tuesday 6-9, Thursday 3-6, and then Saturdays and Sundays,’ Hoseok says and, again, I’m not surprised; Hoseok always loved his dancing and he put more effort into dance than into his school work, but I guess it paid off.

‘I work for Hobi and Tae. I teach classes every day that it’s open, and then I do some photography work every couple weeks. And I do some shifts here and there at a tattoo shop,’ Jungkook says, and I think it’s really cute that he works for his friends, though I wonder if it sparks any arguments between them. I look at Jimin when Jungkook mentions the tattoo shop, and Jimin grins with a little nod, my stomach turning. Obviously, he was referring to where Jungkook works when he said he knew the perfect place for me to get a tattoo.

‘I do all the finances and admin and paperwork for Tae and Hobi, and I work for a small record label, producing and rapping,’ Namjoon says as he puts my coffee down in front of me, and I thank him with a smile, quite surprised to hear Namjoon’s career choice. To be fair, Namjoon excelled in all of his subjects, so he’d be good at whatever he chose to do.

‘I’m a part-time chef at this restaurant in the city, and I’m also studying to become an actor,’ Jin says, and I’m impressed. I didn’t know Jin was interested in cooking or in acting, but now that I look at him, he really does look like an actor, and I could imagine him as a chef too, with one of those big white hats.

‘I’m a barista, as you know, I teach a couple piano lessons a week, and I do some rapping and producing at the same company as Namjoon,’ Yoongi explains, and I remember how good he was at piano. He was chosen to play at one of these awards’ evenings we had at school, and we were all so impressed at how good he was. Rapping, though? I never knew he could rap.

Everyone looks at Jimin to answer, but he looks back blankly before saying, ‘I already told her my job.’ They all nod before looking back at me. ‘What do you do, y/n?’ Jin asks, and I roll my eyes. ‘I work part-time as an assistant at a law firm, and I’m studying to become a lawyer. Or I was anyway,’ I trail off, a little sad that I’ll never be able to do my dream job, and the boys all give me pitying looks. Except for Jimin, who says, ‘damn, y/n, you’re clever. Law student, huh?’ I nod with a smile, and he grins. ‘You could’ve got in on the family businesses, and done all the boring legal shit for us,’ Jimin says, and I grimace, internally endeared at him calling them the family businesses. ‘I’d have passed. Sorry,’ I say, the boys all laughing.

‘Okay, enough chit chat. Let’s carry on with your list,’ Jin says, picking it up from where it sits in the middle of the island, and I take a sip of my coffee. ‘Should I wash the chalk from your driveway?’ I ask Tae and Joon, and they both shake their heads. ‘I was about to, but Jin stopped me. He wants some pictures with you and the chalk,’ Tae says, and I let out a sigh, all them laughing. ‘We’ve literally spent all of our time on the chalk so far. Your four days are gonna fly by,’ I say to Jimin, who waves it off with an easy grin.

‘Stop trying to worry me. Four days is plenty. You go take some pictures with Jin, and Yoongi, while I set up the next thing for us to tick off,’ Jimin says, getting up and pulling me off my seat, pushing me towards the door. ‘Make sure you get plenty of good pictures,’ Jimin says to Tae with a mischievous glance at me, who nods, and I roll my eyes. ‘We’re gonna run out of film,’ I say, but Jimin shakes his head with a grin. ‘I went out whilst you were asleep and got some more supplies, including a few more boxes of film,’ he grins, and I let out a deep sigh as Tae and Jin drag me outside, Yoongi trailing behind, and Jimin waving at us from the doorway.

‘Done with your photoshoot?’ Jimin asks as we walk into the living room. ‘Yes, thank God,’ I say, throwing myself down onto the sofa. ‘Jin, you’re way too demanding. We were out there for forty-five minutes,’ Yoongi says, flopping down next to me, and Jin scowls at us from the doorway. ‘Tae wasn’t getting my angles!’ he exclaims, and Tae’s eyes widen. ‘You’re not blaming this on me. I own a photography business, so don’t accuse me of being a bad photographer,’ Tae says, Jin opening his mouth to speak, but Jimin interrupts; ‘don’t argue. y/n’s dying.’

They go silent, and I burst out laughing as Jimin grins at me. ‘You can’t drop that into every conversation, Jimin,’ I laugh, the others relaxing a little, and Jimin shrugs. ‘I can. Just watch. Anyway, before you get comfy, we need to go into the dining room,’ he says vaguely with a knowing grin, and I narrow my eyes at him. ‘I don’t want to, because of that look on your face,’ I say suspiciously, and he laughs. ‘Come on, y/n, we gotta tick the next thing off your list,’ Jimin says amusedly, holding a hand out to me, and I take it after a moment of hesitation, letting him pull me up. He doesn’t let go of my hand, dragging me behind him into the dining room, and it takes a little while for me to register what’s going on.

The table is set up with these different machines, and Jungkook sits at the table with an empty seat beside him, a lamp set up to cast a bright light onto the empty chair. And then I spot the little book on the table, sat beside a bunch of needles lined up on a small white sheet.

Jungkook’s about to give me a tattoo.

‘Oh, hell no,’ I say, turning around, but Jimin grabs me around the waist before I can walk away, picking me up and carrying me over to the door as I struggle around in his arms, the other boys watching amusedly. But Jimin’s freakishly strong, and my struggling doesn’t work. He puts me down in the empty chair, and I pout at him before looking around at the others. Tae, Jin and Yoongi are stood in one doorway, blocking it, and Namjoon and Hobi stand in the other, blocking that too. I literally cannot leave, and when I look down at the needles, my stomach turns.

‘Do you want to look through the book?’ Jungkook asks gently, and I sigh. ‘Not really,’ I say, all of them laughing as he hands me the book, and I flip through it. ‘Can you all stop looking at me? Or at least put on some music so I don’t feel so tense,’ I say, more laughter rippling around the room as Taehyung gets his phone out of his pocket and taps the screen a couple times, gentle RnB music floating out into the room from the ceiling. They must have a built-in sound system – their house really is boujee.

I scan the book and some of the designs are cute, but none of them really stand out to me. ‘Struggling to choose one?’ Jungkook asks quietly, the others having conversations between themselves, and I nod. He rolls up his sleeve, and shows me the various tattoos that cover his arm and hand. He has a flower, a skeleton hand, the word ‘Truth’, the woozy emoji, a purple heart, a little crown and some black stripes with various numbers and letters on his hand. ‘They all stand for different things. Like, for example, this is the tiger flower, which is my birth flower, and the letters all stand for the guys. So you could get some that are meaningful to you, or you could just get something that you think looks pretty. It’s up to you,’ he says, and I nod, thinking.

I decide on getting my birth flower, a little bolt of lightning and my parents’ initials. ‘Why don’t you get something summer related?’ Jimin suggests softly, and I think before nodding. ‘Like… the sun, or something?’ I ask, and he shrugs. ‘Whatever you want. You could get a picture or a quote, anything you want. It’s up to you, y/n. It’s your body,’ he says, and I nod, thinking about the first idea I had for a tattoo when I wrote that list. ‘How about ‘we’ll always have summer’… or is that silly?’ I ask, and Jungkook shakes his head straight away.

‘Of course it isn’t silly,’ he says, but Jimin looks at me thoughtfully. ‘Who’s we?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘I don’t know. A general ‘we’, I guess? Like… as bleak as life gets, as boring, as sad, as hard as life is, there’s always the hope, the promise, the excitement of summer. So no matter what happens, we’ll always have summer,’ I explain, Jungkook’s eyes widening, and Jimin nodding at me with a small smile. ‘Wow, that’s so deep, y/n. You’re so clever,’ Jungkook says, and I laugh, waving it off.

‘Have you decided yet?’ Hobi asks, and I nod, feeling a little nervous. ‘I’m getting my birth flower, a bolt of lightning, my parents’ initials, and ‘we’ll always have summer’. What do you think?’ I ask, and Hobi smiles, looking impressed. ‘You’re getting four?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘Might as well.’ ‘Where do you want them?’ Jungkook asks, and I hesitate. ‘Where does it hurt least?’ ‘Your ass,’ Jimin says with a grin, and I swat at him whilst the others all laugh. ‘The least painful is usually your back, the outside of your arms, the inside of your forearm and the outsides of your thighs. Hands aren’t too bad, and nor are shoulders,’ Jungkook explains.

After a lot of deliberation, we make the decision as a group of where I should have them; birth flower on my inner forearm, my parents’ initials on my right ring finger, the lightning bolt on the side of my ribcage/side-boob, and the quote on the back of my left shoulder. ‘How long will it take, Jungkook?’ I ask as Jungkook sets up all his equipment, the others arguing about what we should have for dinner. ‘Please, call me JK, or Kook, or whatever. And, it shouldn’t take longer than a few hours, because they’re all quite small. The quote will take the longest, and I can usually do quotes in an hour and a half, so I’d say… three hours, maybe three and a half?’ he says, and I feel dread at the thought of being in pain for that long. But it’s fine. I’ll be fine.

‘Are you still not done?’ Taehyung demands as he enters the room, Jungkook’s eyes still fixed on my finger as he sighs. ‘Relax, I’m doing the last one now. I’ll be done in a few minutes,’ he says, and Tae huffs. ‘You’re taking ages. We want to do the next thing on her list.’ ‘Don’t rush me, Tae. Tattooing is an art,’ Jungkook says calmly, Tae rolling his eyes from behind Jungkook’s back, and I hold back a laugh.

It actually wasn’t that painful, surprisingly. The worst thing was having to stay still for so long. He started with my birth flower, and it was fascinating to watch the ink appear on my skin, at first. The fascination soon wore off, and I was itching to move, but I knew I’d just ruin it if I did.

Then he moved onto the quote. I had to tie my hair up into a bun and sit backwards on a chair whilst he did it, and Jimin fed me some of the Chinese food they’d ordered, keeping me entertained with his stupid antics. Jin tried to feed Jungkook, but when he choked Jungkook with a chopstick, Jungkook decided he’d just eat afterwards.

And then he did my lightning bolt. I had to take off my top and unclasp my bra, holding it in place with my arm out of the way so Jungkook could get to my side-boob easily, and I told the boys that none of them could come in whilst he was doing that one, because the bra kept slipping. Jungkook was very professional though, and I can’t even imagine how many boobs he’s seen over his time working as a tattoo artist.

And now he’s doing my fingers. I’m used to the stinging pain now, and I’m very proud of myself for not crying. Tae shows me some funny videos on his phone whilst Jungkook carries on with the tattoo. ‘And… done!’ he exclaims, sitting back in his chair with a sigh. I look at my hand, pleased with how the tattoo looks. ‘Thank you, JK, it’s great.’ ‘No problem. Right… let me give you the aftercare speech,’ he says as he begins to put the weird jelly stuff and a bandage onto my finger. It’s weird how professional he is – I saw him passed out drunk at house parties more times than I can remember, and now he’s giving me tattoos and telling me how to look after them properly.

‘Don’t remove these bandages for 24 hours, and when you do, wash the tattoos, gently, with an unscented soap and water, and pat it dry afterwards. Put on some of this ointment twice a day, if you can, but you don’t need to put on another bandage. Wash them a few times a day, gently, with unscented soap and water, and always pat them dry, and then put on an unscented sensitive skin moisturiser. Obviously, you’re going to tick those things off your bucket list, and I’m sure a couple involve being in the water and sun. We usually advise against being in the water and sun, but obviously, you’re not going to do that, so just don’t be in the sun for too long, and put plasters over them when you go in the water, to try and stop them being infected. It’s not really that big of a deal if they do get infected because…’ ‘I’m dying anyway.’ ‘Yeah, that. So don’t worry about it too much, but just try your best to be careful with them. Oh, and don’t go into hot water, if you can help it. Have cool showers, and not for too long, either. I think that’s it, but if you have any questions, just get my number from Jimin and text or call me. Do you have any questions now?’

‘Only one; would you rather I transferred you the money, or do you want cash?’ ‘y/n, don’t be ridiculous. I’m not charging you,’ he says as though it’s obvious, and I frown. ‘Jungkook.’ ‘No, y/n, I’m not taking money from you.’ ‘Why not? I haven’t got anything else to spend it on, remember? And it’s taken you ages!’ ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m not accepting any money from you, and that’s it. I do free tattoos for the boys all the time – Jimin’s got several from me. Just see it as a gift from an old friend,’ he says simply, with a grin, and I can’t help the small smile on my face. ‘Thank you, JK,’ I say, and he grins even wider, his cute little bunny teeth on display. ‘No problem, y/n.’

‘Are you done now? Can we move on to the next thing?’ Tae says excitedly, Jungkook nodding with a laugh at his eagerness. ‘Come on, then,’ Tae says, grabbing my hand and pulling me up, dragging me out of the dining room. He leads me towards the back door, pushing it open and moving aside to let me out first, and I gasp when I see the garden. ‘I know it’s not that big but it’s the best I could do,’ Jimin says as I slip on the sliders that he puts down on the floor in front of me, stepping out onto the light wood decking.

Tae and Namjoon’s garden is beautiful – it’s obvious at least one of the two loves gardening. The decking has steps down onto the grass which is healthy and neat, a dark, rich green, and there are trees and flowers of all different colours lining the light wood fence that runs around the garden. Fairy lights are strung up around the fence, casting a warm yellow glow across the space and there’s a fire pit in the middle of the garden, a small fire inside it with a garden furniture set placed around it, four armchairs and two two-seaters.

‘Oh, my God, this is great! Did you already have a fire pit?’ I ask Tae who shakes his head. ‘Jimin went out to buy one earlier,’ he says, and I look to Jimin with a frown. ‘You shouldn’t have. Let me give you the money for it,’ I say, and he shakes his head before I even finish speaking. ‘I don’t think so. Come on,’ he says, holding out an arm to me, and I take it with a begrudging smile. He leads me down the decking steps, across the grass to the bonfire and he sits down in an armchair as I sit in the two-seater beside it, Tae and JK following behind, the leftovers of the Chinese food in Jungkook’s hands.

‘Where are the others?’ I ask, and Jimin looks a little sheepish. ‘I, um, went to get supplies when you were sleeping, right? Well, I bought the fire pit, but I forgot all the other stuff,’ he explains, rubbing the back of his neck embarrassedly, and I hold back a laugh. ‘What other stuff?’ I ask, just as Jin and Hobi appear through the back door. ‘The biscuits, the chocolate, the marshmallows, the roasting sticks. Everything else,’ Jin says exasperatedly, the two of them coming to join us.

‘Where are the other two?’ Tae asks as they take their seats, Jin taking a prawn cracker from Jungkook’s lap, the boy shooting him a dirty look. ‘Putting the stuff onto plates for us, because a couple of us are too messy and, apparently, we’ll drop melted marshmallows and chocolate onto the grass and ruin it,’ Hobi says with a roll of his eyes, and I have a feeling he’s quoting Namjoon. ‘Am I wrong, though? There’s still the patch of grass that’s discoloured after Jimin spilled beer on it!’ Namjoon exclaims, holding blankets in his arms, Yoongi following behind with a tray in his hands, paper plates atop the tray. ‘How many times do I have to apologise for ruining your grass before you forget?’ Jimin asks tiredly as Namjoon and Yoongi take their seats, and Namjoon gives him a hard look. ‘As many times as it takes for the grass to return to its proper colour,’ Namjoon says, and I can feel an argument brewing so I quickly change the subject.

‘Shall we get a picture?’ I ask, not realising that another argument is about to start, over who’s going to take the picture. ‘Oh, my God, we’ve been arguing for five minutes! Just let me take the picture!’ Yoongi exclaims (after five minutes of arguing), his annoyance only half-hearted, and I pout. ‘No, Yoongi, I want you in the picture. I want us all in the picture,’ I say, Jin sighing and grabbing his temples before sending Namjoon to ask their nice neighbour, Mr Lee. I feel bad for disturbing him at 9.09pm on a Wednesday, but they insist. It’s more than a little awkward when he starts asking questions and Jimin says with a grin, ‘we’re ticking off y/n’s summer bucket list because she’s got a brain tumour and she’s going to die in a week.’ It’s like he can’t take the pictures quick enough after that, practically sprinting out of the garden once he’s done.

Yoongi gives us all our plates, Jungkook balancing his on one knee whilst he eats his Chinese food, and I feel pretty stupid when all of them instantly know how to put their s’mores together. ‘Have you never had s’mores before?’ Jimin asks, and I shake my head sheepishly. ‘Here, let me show you. You gotta just put a marshmallow on a stick,’ he says, and I copy the way he spears it on the stick. ‘Then you hold it over the fire for a little while, until it goes a bit brown, and then turn it over the other way,’ he says, holding his stick over the fire, and I do the same, turning it the other way once it’s browned a little. ‘And then you get a piece of chocolate and put it on top of a biscuit. And then you put the marshmallow on top of that. And then you put a piece of chocolate on top of the marshmallow, and another biscuit on top of the chocolate. Then you take it off the stick and… you got your s’more!’ he says, holding his s’more up with a flourish. It looks a lot neater than mine, but I’m still proud of myself for managing to not set fire to anything. ‘Just wait a little for it to cool down. Kook learned that the hard way,’ Jimin says pointedly, the other boy pursing his lips embarrassedly as we all laugh.

The sky is still high and light with clouds, though the sun has disappeared over the horizon, the moon a pale white circle against the soft blue. The air is still warm, but not with the humidity of earlier today, a cool tinge to the breeze that glides across my skin. It’s the perfect summer evening, made even better by the light conversations we have and the alcohol that Taehyung brings out for us – Jimin, Yoongi and Jin drink their soju like it’s going out of fashion, Jungkook, Namjoon and Hobi nursing beers instead whilst Tae and I sip on our Malibu and coke (very little Malibu actually in it). The s’mores are amazing, the warm gooey marshmallow, rich melty chocolate and crunchy sweet biscuits a perfect combination – whoever came up with s’mores is an actual genius.

‘Do you want some more s’mores, y/n?’ Hobi asks once my plate is empty, and I groan, the boys all laughing. ‘I think I’ll explode if I have another. I’ve eaten more today than I have in the last week,’ I say, clutching my stomach. ‘I’ll have one, Hobi,’ Jungkook says with a cheeky grin, and Hobi shoots him a glare, no real venom in it. ‘Get yourself one.’ ‘You offered to y/n!’ ‘You’re not dying in a week,’ Hobi says, eyes instantly flitting to me to see if I mind, but I’m already bursting into laughter, my head falling onto Jin’s shoulder which is shaking from his laughter too.

‘Are we terrible for joking about death?’ Jungkook says once we’ve all calmed down, and I sigh. A cold breeze rushes past us, biting at my skin, and I shiver, pulling my blanket closer around me and shuffling forward in my seat so I sit closer to the bonfire. It’s gotten so much cooler so quickly, all of us wrapped up in blankets. ‘What can we do but joke about it? I think I’d cry if we didn’t,’ I say into the silence, the boys all just listening as I stare into the flickering flames, deeply inhaling the smoky scent in the air.

‘It still doesn’t feel real. How do you prepare yourself for death?’ I ask, voice a little shaky, and Jin puts a hand on my shoulder gently. ‘I wish we could tell you, y/n, and make it easier for you, but it will never be easy to see someone of your age die. Old people, who have lived their lives, they can prepare for death. I don’t think you can. And I’m sorry for that, I really am. We all are,’ he says softly, his kind words bringing a sad smile to my face. ‘Thank you. Thank you all, for doing all this today, and Namjoon and Taehyung, for opening your home to me,’ I say, all of them reflecting my sad smile back at me.

‘We’d have done it even if you weren’t dying, y/n. Please, don’t think we’re only doing this because you’re dying. We’ve all known each other since we were kids. And look at all you did for us. We’d have done all of this for you regardless of your health if you asked us to,’ Namjoon says, and I look at him in confusion, wondering what he means. ‘What did I do for all of you?’ ‘We were talking about this whilst you were asleep. Remember when I was riding my bike past your house, and I fell off it?’ Namjoon asks, the others laughing at the mention, and all of a sudden, a memory I didn’t even know I had appears in my mind.

We must’ve been around 7; I don’t remember what I was doing, but I saw Namjoon on the floor outside of my house through the window, clutching onto his knee with his bike beside him. I ran and got the plasters from where they were in one of the kitchen cupboards, and practically sprinted outside. I sat down on the floor beside Namjoon, and there were tears in his eyes, and his knee was bloody. Not knowing that you’re supposed to clean a cut and disinfect it, I’d just put a plaster on for him, and then my parents saw what was going on, and took Namjoon inside to properly clean the cut, me following them in with his bike in my arms, and then they phoned his mum to let her know what had happened. Our school was a tight knit community and all the parents were friends with each other – they all had each other’s phone numbers.

‘How do you remember that?’ I ask, smiling at the memory, and he grins. ‘It’s the first act of kindness I remember experiencing. And it might have been simple, but it taught me to be kind, and do things for people when I didn’t have to, because that’s what you did for me,’ he says, and then all of the boys share the stories of things I did for them over the years we went to school together.

For Jin, I’d lost one of his crayons and then I’d brought in a whole new pack for him. When his mum mentioned it to my parents and thanked them for buying Jin a new pack, they’d had been confused; they hadn’t bought a new set of crayons. I’d taken in one of my own sets for him without telling them. Jin brought it into school every day and shared it with me and only me, and wrote both of our names on the packaging so that everyone would know that they belonged to the both of us.

For Yoongi, I’d recorded his piano performance at the awards’ evening because I’d overheard his mum saying she’d forgotten her video camera at home and didn’t have a smart phone to record it on. I’d sent it to him that night, letting him know why I’d recorded it, and he’d thanked me before showing his mum. I never knew this at the time, but apparently she was so happy that she cried, and made Yoongi give me a present to thank me. I didn’t know that Yoongi was the one who put the thank you card in my locker with a necklace in it a couple weeks later – he’d been too shy to give it to me face to face (I’d been so confused, wondering who was thanking me and for what). I still wear the necklace sometimes – it’s a silver chain with a little butterfly pendant that rests between my collarbones.

For Hobi, I’d spotted a random bag in the school car park, and checked the belongings to see that it was Hobi’s – his wallet had been in there, along with a load of money and some dance clothes. I’d brought it in the next day and gave it to him, and he’d thanked me profusely. What I didn’t know at the time was that his mum had worked multiple jobs in order to fund his dancing, including buying him all that dance gear, and that he’d thought that someone would’ve stolen it all because they were worth a lot, as well as stealing his wallet. But instead, it’d been returned back to him, with everything still in there.

For Taehyung, I’d been the only one to say I liked his drawing, back when we were little kids. It was of a little alien cartoon character, with a heart shaped head (the same thing he’d been drawing in chalk on the driveway earlier), and everyone else laughed at him and called it silly and said it looked nothing like the real cartoon. But when I told him it was nice and that I thought it was really good, it made him want to draw it more, before he started drawing other things too, and his passion for art had been sparked, all because of a little compliment from me when we could barely write our names.

For Jungkook, I’d been helping clean Dahyun’s house after her house party, and I found him passed out in the upstairs bathroom. I got Dahyun to help me get him into my car, drove him home (I knew his address from a party he’d had once), used his house keys to get him in his house, helped him lie down on the sofa, forced him to drink some water and then left a note beside a full bottle of water to letting him know who’d dropped him off at home. And then I’d locked up after myself and posted the keys through the letterbox. His mum had phoned my parents the next day to thank me profusely, and brought over some cupcakes – they were amazing, by the way.

And for Jimin, maybe the most important of them all – I’d done my end-of-year presentation on eating disorders. We had to do the presentations for our language grade, to show that we could speak with fluency and precision and accuracy, and we were told to do it on an interesting topic so that we would be motivated to write an engaging presentation. Almost everyone else did theirs on superficial things, like their hobby or their favourite celebrity. Mine was one of the only serious ones. Everyone had praised mine – I always was good at language – and I got one of the highest two grades (Namjoon and I competed for the top of the class in every lesson we had together). But what I didn’t know was that, thanks to my presentation, Jimin realised he had an eating disorder. He was virtually starving himself, not eating for days at a time, whilst over exercising, because he hated the way his body looked. And because of the helplines and websites I put at the end of the presentation, he sought help, and spoke to his parents about it. He went to the doctor with his mother, and they put him on a diet plan to get him back to being healthy. I helped him to be healthy again.

My eyes are teary when Jimin finishes speaking. I’m so touched that he remembers, that they all remember the acts of kindness I did for them. And whilst Jimin’s was unintentional, it was still so important, and I’m proud of young me for deciding to do her presentation on a serious topic. I’m proud of her for being such a kind person all the time. This truly is karma – I did these nice things for them back then and they’re repaying that kindness back to me when I need it most. And then I realise why Jimin was so desperate to help me – he just wants to help me like I helped him.

‘So, really, y/n, don’t thank us. We owe you,’ Namjoon says, all of them nodding in agreement, and I beam at them, tears beginning to spill down my face. ‘Don’t cry, because you’ll make me cry!’ Jungkook shrieks, all of us laughing as Jin hands me a tissue, and I dab the tears away. ‘God, what’s wrong with me? I never cry this much usually,’ I say embarrassedly, and Jimin grins. ‘Don’t be embarrassed about crying. I think I’d have cried out all of the water in my body if I were you,’ Jimin says, coaxing a laugh from me. ‘Me, too,’ Jungkook says, sniffling a little, and we all burst into laughter when we see that his eyes are full of tears. ‘My God,’ Jin says, his lip curled up in mock disgust, ‘you really are a cry baby.’ ‘Can you blame me?’ Jungkook asks defensively, wiping his eyes, and Jin’s eyes widen. ‘Yes! You’re not the one dying!’ he exclaims, setting the rest of us off again, our laughter carrying in the cool summer air.

[cle1024]

drunk in love | hjs

member: han jisung 

genre: angst 

summary: jisung is a lightweight; no matter what kind of alcohol he ingests, he somehow manages to become completely obliterated in minutes. as his best friend, you tend to take on the duty of taking care of him during his inebriated moments, even if it hurts you in the process.  friends to lovers!au, college!au 

warnings: swearing, alcoholism, brief mention of drug use 

a/n: credit to @str9ykids​ for the gif <3 this is kind of friends to lovers, kind of complicated

Han Jisung was a great guy; he was talented, creative, intelligent, passionate, charismatic, entertaining. There was a genuine care held within his eyes that most orbs missed, even in moments of honesty and loyalty, an underlying message whenever he spoke with someone about their hardships. He always seemed to understand and sympathise with people who ranted to him as a form of therapy, always willing to listen to whatever was on their mind regardless of how minute the issue. The only downfall you’d found in your time knowing him was his inability to know his limits. There had been numerous occasions of overworking himself, as well as breakdowns after trying to bottle up all his problems and emotions until he cracked under the immense pressure. Of course you were always there to pick up the pieces, that’s what friends do, and he was always there to thank you in the long run. Though, there was one particular limit of Jisung’s that even he was conscious of: his inability to hold any form of alcohol. Despite being strong in both mental and physical ways, the boy was an undeniable lightweight. Every morning after a night of drinking he’d wake with a splitting headache, downing a glass of water and painkillers you’d left for him, but he never changed his ways. At first, you’d brushed it off as a bad habit, perhaps an early and worrying sign of alcohol addiction. Over time you’d started to wonder if there was an underlying reason he allowed himself to become absolutely obliterated, his mind seemingly detached from his body as he stumbled around whatever party or club he’d found himself in. 

Even if he was mentally strong, he had his moments of weakness―it’s human nature, after all. Those moments where his walls crumbled and he shed tears of stress, anger, raw and unrelenting sadness. You couldn’t help but wonder what kind of secrets lied beneath his emotional shield, only reaching the surface in those rare moments of giving out under immense pressure. As much as you wanted to pry, Jisung was just too damn good at keeping secrets. Everything was brushed off with a laugh and joke about how you’re going soft on him, but he was always thankful for your concern nonetheless. Nothing ever erased your concern; Jisung continued his destructive drinking habits and secretive behaviour. Even when you saw the occasional slip-ups and heard the drunken babbles of “I wish I could tell you the truth” before he knocked out, Jisung was far too good at lying about his feelings to have you take it as anything other than a bad day. So, you moved on from the questions about his emotions and just took on the duty of taking care of him when he was wasted beyond belief. Things would be easier that way, wouldn’t they? You’d put him to bed, stay the night, leave water and painkillers before leaving his dorm. Then you’d see him in one of your classes looking like he crawled from the depths of Hell and tell him all the embarrassing things he did in his drunken state. That’s how things were supposed to go, but some slip-ups just can’t go unacknowledged. 

Jisung didn’t think he had a drinking problem, but he also didn’t know how to deal with his problems. Drinking until he was numb and venturing another realm always seemed like a good choice until he made more mistakes in his drunken and gave himself new reasons to abuse his liver. Some mistakes were worse than others; deciding to wear a white shirt when he knew he couldn’t keep a steady hand after drinking, listening to the encouragement of his friends―almost as drunk―and attempting to jump from one side of someone’s pool to the other, as well as other injury-inducing actions. Though one of his worst mistakes was one that came about during a sober mindset. It wasn’t a decision, necessarily, so does it really count as a mistake? Regardless, Jisung found himself tangled up in emotions he shouldn’t be feeling. He shouldn’t want to kiss you, his best friend―that’s all you were, after all, a friend. Yet the urge withstood his relentless berating, his drunken kisses with other people who’d never given him a name to call them by, its persistence drove him to the brink of desperation. Knowing that you would never feel the same way ― or, rather, assuming you would never reciprocate such feelings ― pushed him over the edge, and he found himself tumbling down a dark hole of irreversible mistakes, fabricated feelings and verbal mishaps. Though, in the end, it didn’t matter what Jisung did to forget about his feelings or have them blossom for someone else, it was something he could never get out of his head. He drank to forget but he always remembered, and now he was falling far beyond return. 

“Hey, baby,” you rolled your eyes at your friend’s words. That was another habit Jisung had, aside from excessive drinking, he often said things he didn’t mean. He played with words, took their meaning and stripped them down to platonic nouns and adjectives. It bothered you to no end, mainly because you could never figure out when he was being serious and when he was teasing, it all blended into one neutral speech. You hummed in response, eyes remaining focused on the bright screen of the laptop in front of you. A huff escaped Jisung’s lips, slightly unimpressed with your lack of interest, “good to see you too,” he deadpanned. There was always something about you that drew Jisung in. Perhaps your appearance, personality, thought patterns, interests, passion―it was evidently more than one thing. Your presence was a soothing hug in the midst of a ferocious storm, easing worries with a simple smile or comment about the weather, a habit he’d always found endearing. Now that he thought about it, he can’t remember the first time he noticed it. Frankly, he couldn’t even remember the first time he noticed you, but he was always grateful his brown orbs caught sight of you and not someone else. You were the kind of friend anyone would yearn for, loyal, understanding, helpful, appreciative. There was a lot he could praise you for, but there simply isn’t enough time within the average human lifespan. There were many other things Jisung couldn’t remember about you: when did you become his sober caretaker on drunken nights, his closest friend, his favourite design major, his first true love? Many things had happened in Jisung’s life that had simply slipped his memory, he liked to blame it on his over-drinking habit and found it to be bothersome, but nothing ever changed. He still chugged such liquids like the sun wouldn’t rise above the horizon the following day; he knew that one day it wouldn’t. Though, he also knew that one day the alcohol excuse would stop working. At some point he’d have to face the damage he’d done, internally and externally, and the mistakes he’d made under the ‘influence’ of alcohol. Someday it would all come crashing down and he hadn’t a clue how to deal with it. He shook off the depressing thought, it was something he could worry about in time, when that day inevitably comes. That day is not today. 

“Plans for tonight?” He questioned eagerly, leaning on his crossed arms as you tapped your keyboard in thought. Your nose scrunched slightly as you pondered the question, a soft smile appearing on Jisung’s pink lips as you did so. 

“Study, but I’m assuming that’s going to change to taking care of your drunk ass?” An amused smile graced your features as Jisung narrowed his eyes in your direction. 

“I mean, yeah, but what’s wrong with that?” the boy sounded thoroughly insulted, “best friends take care of each other!” 

“Yes, but I wasn’t aware they also vomit on each other’s carpet. You’re so lucky I got that out or your ass would be grass, Han,” he held up his hands in surrender with wide eyes. Of course you weren’t holding a grudge against him―not anymore, at least―but you always got a kick out of bringing up one of Jisung’s most embarrassing moments, “where are you headed?” 

“Hyunjin’s, his frat is throwing a party at nine,” as per usual. You had nothing against Hyunjin or the frat he was in, in fact you found both to be tolerable and quite welcoming in comparison to cinematic portrayals, but the parties they threw were another story. Loud, rowdy, chaotic, illegal. You weren’t sure how no one had called with noise complaints, or how no one had been carted off to a holding cell for doing cocaine off someone’s ass, but there were some questions you didn’t really want answers to. Another reason you hated their parties specifically was the alcohol. There was so much of it, a never ending fountain of mind-numbing concoctions to go around, and of course that meant dealing with a very, very, wasted Han Jisung. 

You huffed slightly, “just don’t drink too much. For once.” 

“I won’t, I promise!” Jisung slaps a hand against the table in excitement before picking up his backpack and bidding goodbye, rushing off to his next class. That was another thing that irritated you about Jisung, he was a damn liar. 

The bass thumped throughout the house, strobe lights blinding you and energetic partygoers blocking your path. Jisung was amongst them you assumed―you arrived at the party two hours after it started, purely because you were dreading the crowded environment. In all honesty, you weren’t in the mood for a party tonight, but you were here for Jisung’s sake. You found yourself in the midst of drunken parties for said reason quite often. Jisung was a drunken mess, borderline alcoholic, and most of his friends lacked the sobriety or responsibility to take care of him in such a state. Thus, you took on the role of Jisung’s ‘caretaker’, as Seungmin once put it. Your thoughts were broken by a drunk Jisung stumbling in your direction, eyes rolling slightly at the sight. Here we go. 

“Y/N!” He cheered, dragging out the last letter of your name before hiccuping slightly. You opened your mouth to respond, only to be shut down by Jisung’s hand around your wrist and voice in your ear, “come on! Let’s dance!” 

He attempted to tug on your wrist, weakened by the alcohol in his body. You saw Changbin approaching from the corner of your eye, the male smiling sympathetically and gesturing to Jisung, “he’s already so far gone, party only started an hour ago.” 

“Go figure.” 

Changbin chuckled lightly, “yeah, he seemed to want to get his mind off something,” he shrugged nonchalantly, “he should probably be getting home. I’ve had a few, will you be alright to get him home?” 

You nodded stiffly. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but a feeling in your gut warned you something was going to happen if you did. Something bad―but perhaps that was just the stench of alcohol churning your stomach. 

When did Jisung become so damn heavy? Perhaps it was when he stopped using his legs to help you drag him into your apartment. You would’ve taken him back to his apartment―you should have taken him back to his apartment―but his roommate wasn’t exactly the most empathetic when the boy was absolutely obliterated, or painfully hungover. Besides, his apartment block had so many stairs. A breath of relief passed your lips as you dropped Jisung on your bed, moving his legs so his full body was laid out comfortably. 

“Sleep on your side, I’ll go get you a bucket,” you advised as Jisung hummed groggily and shifted his position. Your footsteps were gentle along the dark floorboards as you crept towards the cupboard, scavenging for the blue bucket you often used when mopping the floors. After placing the bucket next to the bed, you shuffled towards the kitchen to retrieve a cold glass of water and a headache tablet―Jisung always managed to give himself a sore head before he even reached the hangover stage, you’d give him another in the morning for the inevitable and monstrous hangover. Jisung breathed gently with half-lidded eyes, brown orbs following you as you pulled the blankets up to his chin. The warmth flooded his exhausted body, ensuring his warmth throughout the note. As you shifted the blanket to cover him fully, the words just came spilling out. His voice was soft, almost a murmur when he spoke. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

Your body went frigid at the words. Of course he meant it in a platonic sense, he must have meant it in a platonic sense, but he’d never said those three words before―not to you, nor to one of his ex-partners, as far as you knew. Han Jisung wasn’t the type to throw such a word around so flippantly. His brown eyes stared into yours, causing you to shift your gaze intentionally, “y-yeah, love you too, ‘Sung.” 

The boy shook his head dramatically, “no, no, no. I love you as more than a friend,” he exclaimed with an emphasis on the ‘more’. A heavy silence fell in the air as you stayed silent. All words escaped you in that moment; what could you say? Was it untruthful, drunken slurs or a genuine confession? Jisung’s borderline whisper sliced through the silence, “I know you don’t feel the same.” 

Pushing the hair off his forehead, you offered a small smile, “we can talk about this when you’re sober. Goodnight, Jisung.” 

With those words, you flicked the lamp off and exited the room, gently shutting the door behind you. Jisung shifted his legs in search of comfort, eyes lowering as he mulled over your words. Even in his drunken state he could feel his heart tear at the realisation that you didn’t, and would likely never, reciprocate his romantic feelings. By the time morning had come, both of you had decided to pretend the words were never spoken. 

Saying that things between you and Jisung had been… off after that night was the epitome of an understatement. For two people who were almost attached at the hip, considered one another family and had an unfathomable amount of loyalty and trust within one another, awkward glances and avoidance were weird. It was as if an unspoken agreement had been made between the two of you ― smile if you have to, then fucking leg it. Don’t talk to one another, don’t make an effort to see one another, and certainly don’t talk about the drunken words that spewed from Jisung’s mouth. To distract yourself from the absence in your life, and heart, you threw yourself into your studies, though that only seemed to be a temporary fix as you swiftly burnt out. The two of you had a mutual friend, Somi, who you’d confided in after it was clear things with Jisung could never go back to normal. She’d helped as much as she could, took you out of your familiar bedroom to cozy cafes and blooming parks in the middle of town you’d somehow never seen. When she suggested a night out, another frat party of a friend’s-friend, a part of you cried in resistance. Everytime you’d gone to a college you ended up hauling Jisung’s wasted ass into a car and sobering him up before he slept, what were you to do now? You didn’t want to see him either, and it seemed to be inevitable considering how Jisung spent his nights―perhaps he would spend that upcoming night at the party, drinking to forget the friction between him and his best friend. You certainly were. 

There was a part of you that understood why Jisung allowed himself to be thrown into a night of nonsensical drunken thoughts and gravitationally difficulties. At this point, you weren’t certain how long you had been within the frat house, each pulse of the bass and change in coloured lighting seemed to blur together in an almost nauseating succession. In all honesty, you weren’t even certain if Somi was still on the dance floor or if she had, as did you, found a stray wall to lean against as she recomposed herself and figured out how to stand without wobbling. You hadn’t seen Jisung, but you had seen Changbin, so you assumed the younger was there too―the two had some sort of tradition of getting shitfaced together, probably because they shared the same stress over music production and assignments put aside for far too long. There was a ruckus sounding in the room you stood in ― it wasn’t the main room, where everyone danced far too close for comfort and shared sweat, but it was a mainly empty space near the stairs that gave you a clear view of the partygoers. It sounded as if a drunken scuffle had started on the second floor, probably inebriated douchebags with low anger tolerance and a great sense of entitlement―the kind of people who have the immediate instinct to jump on a foldable table after two drinks. Though as you turned your head, you were met with the sight of people who you knew were far from that―though, they had their moments. Changbin and Jisung, stood near the head of the stairs, in the midst of an apprehensive affray of glares and seething words. They looked tense, yet Changbin still stumbled back when Jisung gave him a harsh shove, and then another, and another. You weren’t in the right sober frame of mind to stick to acknowledge the unspoken deal to not interact with Jisung. Instead, you were tipsy and figured Jisung was too far gone ― you’d never known him to be angry or violent, maybe he truly had been drowning himself in booze to forget his words to you. Maybe that’s why they were arguing, Changbin wanted him to stop drinking. Pushing yourself from the wall with a newly gained sense of sobriety, you made your way to the second floor to intervene before things could blow out of proportion. 

“Knock it off, ‘Sung,” you'd spoken, standing in front of Changbin and gently pushing Jisung away. 

“It’s no use, Y/N, he’ll never change,” Changbin snided. Jisung scoffed. 

“Changbin, stop.” 

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you. How far has your advice gotten me, Changbin? Look how fucked up everything got!” What was going on? Your eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. Jisung’s dark eyes, glossed over with either tears or a drunken haze, trailed from Changbin to you, a bitter smile on his face. “And you, I don’t need you to constantly hover around. God, you act like my mother or something, it’s suffocating!” Words couldn’t pass your lips as you struggled to wrap your head around the situation at hand, “you know- you know how often I drink without you babying me? In fact, tonight was going perfectly fine until this fuckwit,” he gestured at Changbin angrily, the older scowling, “came along. It’s not the alcohol you need to keep me away from, it’s you!” 

It felt as if everything paused in that moment. The music no longer vibrated in your chest,  you couldn’t hear the cars moving around outside as people joined and left the party. All you could hear was Jisung’s words echoing in your ears, and all you could see was every time you had taken him home from a party, every painkiller and glass of water you set out for him. You had wasted so much time on a boy who couldn’t give a shit about you, and for what? Were you even friends? There was a lot you wanted to say, but what was the point? He wouldn’t listen, he’d continue to yell at you for trying to tell him otherwise, trying to talk him into something he’s not. As tears glossed your eyes, you turned away from Jisung and rapidly made your way down the stairs. The two males remained in their spots, the regret settling in Jisung’s chest as the gap between the two of you extended. An even heavier weight tugged on his already cracked heart―as if it had dropped from his chest to his stomach. It was a stupid plan, one he hadn’t thought through in the slightest, and a small part of him hoped that would play in his favour. Everything he spat was a damn lie, everything he pretended to feel was a fabrication. Everything was an excuse to stop himself from being in love with his best friend―you knew him better than anyone else, you knew what he was like when he was drunk and yet it still worked. That overwhelming sensation that came over him when tears glazed your eyes, one that made him want to give up the stupid plan, tell you “hey, it was a stupid dare! I’m sober!” But he couldn’t put this stupidity on anyone else. He won’t have to see you again after causing you so much pain, right? Please God, let him be right. 

It was often in the inebriated moments of his life that Jisung worried about whether he was being too candid with what he was saying, consequently saying the wrong thing. And yet, in the most sober mindset in a while, he’d managed to find the perfect words to do exactly that. He couldn’t quelm the guilt in his chest―what a stupid fucking plan. 

Somehow, much to his horror, Jisung had managed to tangle himself in an even more intricate web of lies, starting as soon as he caved on his plan of ‘hating you’. Rather than allowing the distance to grow, watch you fizzle into an imperceptible face in the crowd as his heart finally unravelled from around you, his slim body had stood in front of your dorm to pretend he couldn’t remember anything. You believed him with hesitance, as far as he knew, and Jisung spent another night drinking his guilt away. The following week, Jisung started to embrace his unravelling life―it felt as if Yeah Right by Joji was constantly playing as he lived deceptively. His plans to get over you had gone from spouting absolute bull shit in your face to spouting absolute bull shit to someone else; namely, Gaeun. Truthfully, he knew nothing about her beyond her partying habits ― he met her at one of many parties, let her dance all over him as she stared at some other guy who was clearly uninterested, and agreed to have the title of her boyfriend. He had told himself it was under the guise of getting over you, pretending she was the true recipient of the immense love that bloomed for your taking. Though, he still wasn’t sure if he believed that. He didn’t like Gaeun―not in the way a boyfriend would, at least―but it was better than being alone. Jisung was getting sick of being alone, and, for once in his life, no drink could quelm the dissatisfaction of being quite distressingly destitute. 

When Jisung had told you of his relationship with Gaeun, you were taken aback. He talked about her with an admiration that you were almost unfamiliar with, one you would never expect to hear from Jisung. Especially considering he’d never mentioned her before, yet seemed to be so desperately infatuated. She shone like the sun, as far as he was concerned, the best thing since sliced bread. You knew of Gaeun―she was nice, that was it. There was an essence of certainty in your soul that she was a lovely person, but something about her and Jisung was just… off. It was a match that would seemingly make sense on paper ― two fun-loving, regular partygoers in a spontaneous and exuberant relationship ― but it was so wrong in person. It wasn’t something you’d been exposed to up close, just in passing and at the occasional get-together Somi had convinced you to attend on a mopey Friday night. There was that part of you that entirely denied the relationship altogether―it was a lie, just like everything else had been telling you recently, right? First he tells you he loves you, then he hates you, then he’s in a relationship with some unmentioned girl he’s been pining after for months? It was off. But people act bizarre when they’re drunk, don’t they? You weren’t so sure anymore. 

It wasn’t the break up that surprised you, it was Jisung’s reaction. He’d stumbled over to your place, alcohol wafting off his breath as he slurred something along the lines of “she’s left me, she’s joined them” before making his way into the living room. As far as you could coax from him, between the begs for him to stop drinking and dumping empty bottles in your lounge room, Gaeun had approached Jisung with a revenge plot. When all was said and done, when she had finally got what she wanted, she blurted the plan to Jisung with a promise that it was ‘nothing personal’. Gaeun never truly liked him, sure he was cute, but she just wanted someone to pay attention to her. Someone to fill that void her ex-boyfriend―that guy she always stared at while with Jisung, the one who never seemed interested―had left, before he fell victim to her plot and came back to her. Then everything would be back to normal, right? Jisung didn’t care about that, he was doing the same in a way. They were in ‘love’ for the wrong reasons, and he was almost certain Gaeun knew that when Jisung agreed to date her―he didn’t have to say it, but the way he radiated around you was almost obnoxiously clear. Maybe that’s why she chose him, she knew he wouldn’t take it personal. Jisung didn’t care about her reasoning, honestly, that wasn’t what had him downing alcohol to conceal his stress and sorrows. Instead, it was the crushing feeling he felt from the universe, the one that screamed “now you have to tell the truth” that was haunting him. It left him shit faced on your couch, vision blurring as tears welled up in his eyes. Somehow, despite everything he had done, Jisung knew the worst was yet to come. 

“She never loved me, did she?” he chuckled bitterly from his spot on the couch. Uncertain of how to respond, you stared at him pitifully. His soft brown eyes, glistening under the reflection of the flickering lamp rose to meet your own, “do you love me, Y/N?” 

“W-what?” 

Jisung stumbled to his feet. He had thought this was the right thing to do, to tell the truth, but instead it just made him feel even worse about deceiving you for so damn long, “have you ever loved me?” 

“Of course I do, Ji. You’re my best friend.” 

“I-I mean as more than that,” a thick silence clouded the air, “please,” he uttered in a broken voice. A sigh was caught in your throat as your lungs constricted; you felt a sense of déjà vu, everything was happening again―everything was going to end up as shitty as last time. 

“Jisung, you’re drunk, you’re not thinking straight.” 

Gosh, Jisung had never spoken with such anguish in his life, “when you’re drunk you think honestly.” 

“No you don’t!” you burst, startling the boy as a cluster of tears covered your eyes, “the last time you were drunk you told me to stay away from you, that I suffocated you. So what the fuck is it, Jisung?” The considerable silence hung heavily in the air, laying against your chest in a way that had you almost struggling to breathe, gasping for breath as you attempted to hold onto some grip of reality. You sniffled gently, “I can’t keep running in circles with you. I can’t keep doing this.” 

The two of you had argued before, you’d been friends for a notable period after all, but it had never left you this way. Neither of you had ever been stunned into silence by the stinging reality of the other’s words, nor had you pleaded for the other’s understanding with a sense of almost embarrassing desperation. But your minor squabbles and bickering never had earth-shattering revelations; there were never any consequences until now. That was the difference. 

“I love you, Y/N. You know that, don’t you?” he blubbered, almost pleading that you confirm his beliefs. 

“No,” it came out softly, uttered with hesitance, “I don’t.” 

There was more you needed to say, more about the unrelenting love you had held for such a long time, but you no longer knew how to word it. It felt as if none of it even mattered anymore, as if you waited until you were an adult to fix a toy you had broken as a child―what was the point? 

“I love you, Jisung,” there was something in his eyes that changed, almost lit up at the revelation that you truly did feel the same. Yet, at the same time, it seemed as if something shifted in his head. It felt as if he knew there was no salvaging this relationship, he had tugged you beyond the brink of extinction. You struggled to keep looking in his eyes―that look, that bright and almost hopeful look, god it killed you, “but I can’t be with you if you can’t let yourself feel the same.” 

If Han Jisung was still pursuing the plan to push you away, he had succeeded. No, he certainly wasn’t over you―truthfully, he never thought he could be―but you had faded significantly. You were a slightly blurred face in some of his best memories, the hesitant suppression of a smile if eyes ever met. You were no longer the one he was in love with, his best friend, the person to take care of him when he was drunk―and Changbin still refused to uphold that position. Instead, you were a has-been. Once, you were his best friend. Once, you were constantly left to take care of him in his inebriated state. Once―no, still―you were the one he fell tempestuously in love with. Now, you faded from him as if you were a reverse polaroid picture. That defectless, perfect image of you by his side with a smile of genuine happiness, radiating with the potential to bloom into something even more beautiful. Even so, the contingency withered. It crumbled at his fingertips, slipping from his grasps as he continued to spiral deeper into his feelings. 

When he thought of love prior to his experience, Jisung believed it was something almost indescribable―that belief he continues to maintain―and the heartbreak that often followed was just as puzzling. Questions of what went wrong, what should have been said sooner, why did it end up this way―he didn’t question it one bit. He knew the answers, they lied in his questionable and remorseful actions, the ones he regretted as soon as he formulated a plan to execute them. He was confident he could minimise it to less words than necessary, exclude the pivotal details and self-judgement of every time he overtly fucked up―he knew exactly what went wrong. By the time he felt compelled to re-offer the truth, he had so inexplicably failed to acknowledge the consequences. 

As he brought the glass bottle to his lips, the male graciously allowed the alcohol to burn his throat, as if it would override his emotional pain he felt from the aftermath of his bitter-tasting decisions. Han Jisung was just too late. 

[pcnnywlse]

Hi! Feel free to ignore if you don't like stuff about age regression. How do you think Penny would react to meeting an age regressor? Like, they're an adult but hes getting major baby vibes and hes super confused. (completely non-sexual)

hey!! i’m so sorry this took me so long to get to! i operate only off of mobile and my inbox was glitched for months and also i’m rusty :( i hope this is okay!

-

🎈

• It would be... odd to him, to say the least. He had experienced a lot in his time on Earth, he probably came across something like this before, but never as intimately.

• You and the clown had been what some might call “buddies” for a while. Friendly enough that he wouldn’t eat you. But, oh, he loved to scare you. Loved to get a reaction out of you. If nothing else, it made for great fun. It made for great fun because you were terrible at hiding how you felt. No matter how stoic you tried to be, Pennywise could see right through. At least, that’s what he thought.

• One day, after a particularly brutal scare, you broke down. And it kind of just... happened. You had no control over it, only vaguely aware it was happening in the first place. While Pennywise’s little games were thrilling to him, being the subject of his constant terror was wearing at your psyche. You cried and cried, until gradually you were reduced to nothing more than a childlike version of yourself. At least, mentally. It had only happened to you a handful of times before, but never so intensely.

• Pennywise would stop his tricks at once, genuinely afraid he went too far. You were just so much fun to mess with, he didn’t really think about the consequences of his actions.

• He wouldn’t notice that something was off until he tried to talk you down, and you tried to talk back. “Is this some sort of joke? Are you tricking poor Pennywise?” He was trying to be lighthearted, but his concern shown through.

• It would take him a while to figure out what was going on, but when he did, he abandoned his usual, creepily-cheerful persona and went into full protector mode, panicked that he had caused some irreversible damage. He cared for you and made sure you had anything you could possibly want. Some nice food, a tasty drink, even a stuffed animal for you to hold onto.

• You slowly returned to your normal self over the course of an hour or two, much to his relief. He apologized to you sincerely, before going back to his usual self. But he never scared you like that again, he refused to. He couldn’t lose his only friend to his own foolishness.

[skelimagines]

👋, Sorry it took so long to clarify, but what @insertlongnamehere said was correct. I was asking about the S/O trying for a baby with the yandere skeletons and it being a continuation of the ask I sent with the S/O hiding a drawing of a family with the Yan! Skeletons. (I should’ve been more specific. It’s my fault. Thank you though for everything you write!)

Hey, it’s not a problem, fam! {continuation of this post} ~Mod Feral

UT Sans

Oh, but of course! He’s likely to try all possible ways, too, for this. Even techniques that sound far fetched and undoable to most people. Having a family means you two are 100% a thing. No way people will be confused after that.

UT Papyrus

YES!! Yes absolutely! Let’s start right now! He may not know 100% what he’s doing, but that won’t stop him.

UF Sans

He’s likely to laugh. “hun, we don’t need children for us to be together forever. we’re already there, after all.” He’s not 100% for kids, he’ll only do it if that’s some sort of deal breaker for you, and he feels like you’d be able to kick his ass.

UF Papyrus

Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure? Going for children is a risky move in Underfell, and if you hesitate too much it’ll be really easy for him to do irreversible damage to you or kill you, so are you sure?

SF Sans

You don’t get time to think. He’s getting ready immediately. A child is the ultimate sign of being mated, right? So after that it’ll be really easy for others to know. And even more understandable to kill others if they try anything with you.

SF Papyrus

Even more immediate than his brother. He’ll be going at it almost right after you ask. Don’t show any signs of not being as prepared as you thought you were, or anything like that, or he will cause harm.

HT Sans

He’s going to almost insist that you wait. Wait at least until he can catch some food that’ll keep. In case you’re wondering, yes, this means trapping someone and making sure they stay alive until you start getting cravings. Pass that, yeah, he’s for it.

HT Papyrus

He wants a child, but he thinks you should wait. “Y OU DON’ T H AVE EN OUG H FOO D IN TH IS HOU SE FOR A B ABY. PL EA SE WAI T.”

[rwby-nwbe]

Just Finished RWBY Volume 4...

...and I actually liked it?

[Spoilers Ahead, Y'all Know The Drill]

I mean, from what I've heard the Volume gets a lot of flack but honestly? I don't think it deserves it.

Yes, this is the first volume without Monty, and yes, the fights lost a bit of their momentum compared to earlier volumes, but aside from that... it's actually pretty good?

Alright, let me give you the play by play character style.

Ruby Rose

There goes my baby... off to destroy evil.

Ruby hasn't changed much, at least to a noticeable degree, compared to the rest of the cast. Actually, no, that isn't true, she just hasn't changed in a way that would force her overall character to noticeably shift. And I think that's fine. She's still a child at times, and is still really optimistic. But the thing is, she has matured. She doesn't immediately jump head first into danger like she used to, and it's clear she's still trying to process what happened at the Fall of Beacon. And yet, she's pressing on, and I'm glad that she and the rest of Team RNJR have each other's backs.

My only concern is what will go down in Mistral...

Weiss Schnee

Welp, Jacques Schnee, congrats! You've joined Cinder and Adam on the hit list I'm writing up!

The a-hole aside, I really like how Weiss played out this volume. According to what I've heard, volume 4 took place about 6-8 months after Beacon, so I'm kinda sad that Weiss was stuck home for all that time. On the bright side, we get a look at her progress on her summons, which looks to be coming along quite nicely. Then we see the concert, and ooh does that make my blood boil. I'll get to Jacques in a bit, but personally, I'd have no qualms watching him burn, figuratively, or literally.

Fly, Weiss, fly from the coup. Give your bastard of a father the metaphorical middle finger he deserves! (P.S. Klein is best dad.)

Blake Belladonna

Oof. I hurteth.

So Blake tends to stay away out of fear that she'll hurt her friends (i.e. some alternate version of survivor's guilt). In order to make amends from her point of view, she heads home to Menagerie. And once again, we're reminded on why humanity sucks sometimes!

Humans: Here, have this desert island for your large spanning species that covers just as much ground as we do.

Faunus: But... but it's so small!

Humans: Is it? Oh well, we can't have everything!

Me: Y'all LITERALLY have several freaKING CONTINENTS-!

*Ahem* That said, Sun came along! And we met Blake's parents! But first, Sun; I'll admit, I had mixed feelings about him being there at first, but that was mostly because Blake was being angsty and despite Sun's best intentions, virtually nothing he did help. Although, towards the end of the Volume, he managed to help Blake realize why her way of thinking was wrong, so props to him for that. Uh, Sun, could you maybe knock like a normal person? Wait, Blake, DON'T SLAP HIM FOR IT!!!

Ah, Kali, you're just as chaotic as Sun, oh dear... Ghira, never change, man. Never change.

Yang Xiao Long

Oof. I hurteth again. (ADAM!! LET ME DESTROY YOU, DANGIT!!!)

So Yang has been... adjusting to life after Beacon and without an arm. Oh, and Adam gave her PTSD! Isn't that just swell?

[When the find your corpse it'll have Wilt running through your spine and your skull severed with bullet shots from Blush I swear-]

Luckily, Yang gets a prosthetic from Atlas. I was afraid she'd reject it, but it's actually kinda nice to see that she takes to it rather well. And after seeing Oobleck (YAY!) and Port again, it's cool that she's just trying to find her footing. Though, Tai, you might wanna consider NOT flying to close to the Sun Dragon, capiche?

And all this culminates in Yang finally getting back out in the end of the Volume, hoping to find some answers. Hopefully she takes Tai's words to heart.

Jaune Arc

IT'S BIG BOI SWORD HOURS!!

But seriously, it was... kinda off-putting to see Jaune act so... morose. Granted, we all know why (PYRRHA!!!), but still. I'm glad his team is looking out for him and that he's slowly starting to recover like everyone else. His conversation with Ruby in Kuroyuri was also really touching. Come to think of it, didn't Blake have a similar conversation with Sun? The PARALLELS!

Also, that upgrade, tho. CUT THAT NUCKELAVEE INTO DUST, MY DUDE!!!

Nora Valkyrie+Lie Ren

You can't talk about one without bringing up the other.

Guys, this was as much a Renora volume as it was a RWBY-Post Beacon volume. The Fall triggers some odd behavior in Ren, but we figure out why pretty quickly once we reach the Kuroyuri episode.

First, young Ren and Nora... adorable!

Second, I was NOT ready for when Nora had to talk Ren out of charging blindly at the Nuckelavee. The slap. The way Ren sees young Nora and then sees current Nora. Nothing could prepare me. Nothing.

They are so SOFT together, it's just... <3

New Characters (and Old ones, too)

Lightning round, baby!

Qrow Branwen. So Qrow serves as the inside man. He knows what's been going on, and he fills the rest of us in. We also know why he tends to keep his distance, because his semblance brings bad luck to allies and enemies alike. The poor birb. Glad he managed to survive Tyrian!

Jacques Schnee. Egotistical manipulative piece of garbage whom I will not feel sorry for once he's put in his place. 'Nuff said.

Whitley Schnee. Mixed feelings. Mixed feelings everywhere. 'Cause on one hand, I've seen plenty of the fandom's takes on his character putting him in a positive light, but on the other he starts getting kind of unbearable after Weiss loses her title as heiress. Then I have to remind myself that Whitley is the "Fawn" reaction to trauma. Weiss is "Fight," Winter is "Flight," their mother is "Freeze," and Whitley is "Fawn." Stuff like that helps me contextualize that when Whitley says things about their dad like "It's foolish to not do what father asks," or "It's barbaric. It's beneath me. Beneath father," Whitley's not just saying that 'cause he's a bit of a brat. That's his coping mechanism to the abuse Jacques put him and the rest of his family through, and it's probably been a long time that he's been telling himself stuff like this so he can keep in his father's good graces and not risk getting a slap to the face like Weiss, while also trying to deal with the fact that Weiss and Winter get a freedom that he never had a chance to get. And you have to remember that Winter and Weiss were abused to, and that trying to blame Whitley's current condition on the two of them doesn't make things any better. They're not obligated to care about Whitley just as much as Whitley isn't obligated to care about them. It would be nice if either one of them could get through to him, but they were all trying to combat Jacques in one way or another. Whitley was just the odd one out. And if you really think about it, the biggest brain play you can take from all this is to blame it solely on Jacques. I swear, when I get to Volume 4 in my NWBE AU, one of my top priorities will be getting Whitley the ever loving hell out of that accursed mansion alongside Weiss, mark my words.

Klein Sieben. Ladies and gentleman, the only valid man under the Schnee roof! And a Seven Dwarves reference no less. Thanks, I love him! Glad he helped Weiss escape his father's clutches.

James Ironwood. Oh boy, boss man is starting to lose his grip on things. Granted, he's trying to do the right thing, but it's clear his paranoia is getting to him. You know crap is getting bad if the most valid person in all of Atlas simultaneously needs to be told to get a grip from Jacques of all people (especially if he's making a point). Hope this doesn't trigger a downward spiral...

Ghira and Kali Belladonna. Ghira is done and Kali just wants to have fun. I love their dynamic and interactions with Blake and Sun! It was a nice wind down from everything else going on, though I don't think that'll last for long.

White Fang. So we got three more WF members: Fennec, Corsac, and Ilia. The Albain brothers are sleezeballs already, since they're working with Adam and all. Ilia's working with them too, but I'll have to withhold my judgement since she appears to have an as yet undisclosed connection to Blake, but I don't want to get my hopes up since she already stabbed Sun, so... Low expectations, but still expectations.

Salem's Group. Yup, Salem's a villain alright. I'll be keeping my eye on her, she just reeks of trouble. Cinder apparently lost her voice... eh, probably for the best. Emerald, Mercury, get the ever-loving FRICK outta there, you're clearly out of your element! Hazel, you're... fascinating. Neutral Evil, perhaps? Watts, you're on my radar, especially with the last episode of the Volume. And Tyrian... well, he's clearly beyond the point of no return, entirely devoted to Salem, and his psycho-sadistic tendencies are enough to freak Cinder of all people out. Needless to say, I hope something or someone takes care of him before the damage becomes irreversible.

And for now, I'll wrap this up with Oscar Pine. I'll admit, it was interesting how they set up Oscar's character as a slow burn this Volume. We learn he lives a quiet life with his aunt in a barn, and at first we're wondering "Who the heck is this kid?" But then Ozpin shows up and suddenly everything is like "Oh... wait, WHAT!?" So yeah, Ozpin just brought another child into thia conflict. At least they're both not happy about it, and hey, they met Qrow! Hopefully that keeps things from getting too crazy down the line. We still need answers, after all.

Well, those are my thoughts. Sorry they took so long. Hopefully Volume 5 won't be so hard to complete. Well... cheers!

-Mathewton, the RWBY Newbie (15 May 2020)

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 52

Warnings: NONE

Tagging: @alievans007, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @ocfairygodmother​

Only fifty three hours remain.

A little more than two days before he’s on a flight to Mumbai. The last six have flown by; time ever slowing the moment they returned home from the Kimberley, no matter how much he begged it to. The majority of his days have been spent preparing for the upcoming mission; taking stock of weapons and ammo and various other gear and supplies. Meetings with Yaz and his tech crew as they hunker down at a local hotel before departing for India. Pouring over the blueprints and the photographs of the prison and the hotel that Yaz had managed to track down. Conference calls and video chats with Anil and his people. When he hasn’t been caught up in all the job logistics, he’s been spending time with Ovi; busting the kid’s ass in the gym and attempting to squeeze in lessons and training on weapons and hand to hand combat.  It has left little time for other pursuits; nothing more than thirty minutes or an hour (at most) with his kids. Trying to savour every minute...every second...with them in case he never gets the chance to again. Wanting to commit every little moment to memory; every word they speak, every giggle, the feeling of their arms wrapped around his neck and their faces buried in his shoulder. Faking his own smiles and laughter when all he wants to do is cry. Wanting nothing more than to just gather them in his arms and never let go.

It’s been difficult. Pretending to that everything is fine when you’re falling apart inside; being eaten alive by worry, doubt, and fear. But he’s hid it well. Or at least he THINKS he has. He’s kept his increasing irritability and simmering rage under control; never raising his voice or snapping at them, never letting them hear the emotion that threatens to choke, or see the tears that often brim in his eyes. As far as they’re concerned, they’re simply going on a trip; excited to visit the place that Ovi ‘comes from’ and see and experience new things. All they know is that daddy leaves a couple days before; going earlier for work. And that while he isn’t able to stay with them and might not get the chance to see them when they arrive, he’ll get to visit them as soon as he possibly can. They’d accepted that explanation a lot easier than he thought they would. The last time he left them for ‘work’, things hadn’t gone as smoothly. The twins had taken it hard -especially TJ- and Millie had been hysterical. He’d thought that after promising them that he’d never leave them again, things would explode in his face. That they’d be hurt and angry and hate him for going back on his promise. But they’d been remarkably calm; comforted by the thought of going on ‘an adventure’ and having him close by at the same time. Satisfied when he’d told them that having them come to India had been his choice; hating the idea of being so far away from them that he’d arranged for them to be so much closer.

It’s all there. Stress. Anxiety. Worry. The guilt that he’s been so focused and dedicated to the Mumbai job that he’s had very little time with his family when they’re the ones he SHOULD be concentrating on. It’s a very real -and terrifying- possibility that these are his last days with them. That when he walks out the door on Sunday, he may never walk back in. That fear is always there with any job; leaving your family is always hard,  but this is different. So VERY different.  This is personal. Their safety...their LIVES...totally dependent on him. If he doesn’t stay focused, if he allows his nerves and his emotions to get the better of him, they’ll pay the price. And he’ll never forgive himself if it’s a mistake on his part that tears his entire life apart. He couldn’t live with that; the guilt, the immense grief, a loss greater than he’s ever known. So he reassures himself as often as often as possible that everything he’s doing...every decision he’s making...every second he’s dedicated to the job and not his family...is for them. So that he can not only get it done, but still have a family to come home to.

For now there’s a reprieve. Time away from the house. Stepping away from all planned meetings and conference calls and leaving Koen and Nathan -armed with very detailed checklists- in charge of making  sure every weapon, every piece of ammo, and any other supplies they’ll need, are packed into locked trunks and ready to go.  Ovi tasked with watching the two littlest while the three oldest are at school. Making the two hour drive to Palm Cove to pick up Saju the Australian shepherd; Millie’s late birthday present. She’d turned six on Wednesday; waking up that morning bright eyed and boisterous and showing absolutely no signs of illness and putting all of his worst fears to rest. The rational side of his brain always knew that would be the outcome; his daughter healthy and happy. But his mind hasn’t exactly BEEN rational for a long time. The damage that’s been done is both irreversible and irreparable; those minutes left without oxygen when he’d coded -twice- in the operating room, the battle with both alcohol and drug dependency, PTSD and all the bullshit that comes with it.

There’s day -months even- where he functions just fine; not hampered by poor decisions of the past or the demons that exist inside of him. Then there’s times when the weight of everything becomes too much to bear; where it’s impossible to even get out of bed in the morning and he wants to put a gun in his mouth. A permanent solution to a temporary problem. But no matter how bad it gets...no matter how overwhelming it becomes...he always reminds himself that he’s one of the lucky ones. That he’s surrounded by those beautiful, innocent little beings  that love him and need him to keep going. And one phenomenally resilient -and ferociously stubborn- woman that never gives up in him.  Always supporting him and loving him even when he hasn’t been the best friend of man for her.

“Look at your little face!” Esme gushes from the passenger seat, eyes sparkling and her entire face glowing as she interacts with the puppy in her lap.

It’s a nice to see -and hear- genuine happiness as opposed to as the fake smiles and laughter that have become commonplace.  Consumed by her own stress and fears and very real concerns.  Wondering how she’ll manage to keep five kids happy, healthy, and safe in an entirely different country and if she’ll be able to keep up the act that being in Mumbai is nothing more than a simple family holiday.  And her worry regarding him is incessant; terrified that she’ll never see him again the second he leaves for Mumbai. There’s always that fear; every job is dangerous and unpredictable and being married to a mercenary is not for the faint of heart. But everything is elevated this time around. The threats real and personal; an enormous bounty placed upon his head and her own life and those of her children depending on him staying alive long enough to get the job done.

But she has faith in him. Unwavering trust. And since their return from The Kimberley, the difference between them has been remarkable. He sees it. He FEELS it. They’re both much calmer and at ease with one another despite the circumstances surrounding them. They talk more instead of bickering; rational conversations instead of emotionally driven arguments. Their bond...their connecting...while always strong, has been heightened. Beyond anything either of them could have expected.

“Look at you!” She continues, as the puppy stands with his hind legs on her thigh and his front paws on her chest. Tousling the fur one the top of his head and scratching him under the chin as he curiously sniffs at her clothes and her hair and the necklace she sports. “Looking how freaking cute you are!  Look at those pretty blue eyes. Who’s the handsome little man? Who is the most handsome man in the world.”

Tyler grins. “Well I thought it was me, but apparently I’ve been replaced.”

“No one could ever replace you,” Esme declares.. “EVER.  But I mean, look…” she picks the puppy up and turns it to face him. “...look at this little face! Look at it! How can you not love it? It’s so sweet and so cute and I just want to kiss him to death! He’s even got blue eyes like the rest of you. Isn’t he just the cutest thing ever?”

“You’re the cutest thing ever,” he says, and she gives a bright smile and a half hearted roll of the eyes.

He can’t help the smile that creeps across his own face as he both listens to her and watches her out of the corner of his eye.  The way she uses that higher pitched, almost childlike voice that she’s never busted out on their kids but reserves strictly for other peoples’ infants and cute animals. Like the time they’d gone to the koala sanctuary and she'd squealed -and then cried- when one of the babies crawled up her leg and allowed her to cuddle and love in it.  And he even manages a laugh when she bursts into giggles; playfully protesting and turning her head from side to side when the puppy excitedly licks her face.

“You realize he’s our daughter’s dog, yeah? That we got him for her?”

“I can’t help that he likes me. That he thinks I’m his person. He’s just the sweetest thing ever. How can anyone resist that little face? Besides, who do you think is going to be doing all the work? Who’s going to be the one taking care of him? It’ll be like having another baby. And you’re not going to be around, so you’ll be completely useless to me and…”

Her voice trails off, and when Tyler glances over he notices the tears welling in her eyes and the way she chews on her bottom lips. “Hey...” he drops a hand from the steering wheel and lays it against the back of her head, fingers gently massaging her scalp. “...what’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“Everything,” she chokes out. “Everything is wrong.”

“Baby...what…?”

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

He frowns. “Said what? What are you…?”

“When I said I have to do everything because you won’t be around. I called you useless. I didn’t mean it that way. It didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”

“It didn’t sound like anything. You were joking. It sounded like a joke. That’s all.”

“You’re the one that’s putting your ass on the line for me. For our kids.   You’re the one that’s going out there and going after these people. You’re the one that’s most in danger. Yet I say something like THAT? That was a horrible thing to say and I’m a horrible person for saying it.”

He can’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it. “It was a joke. I knew you were joking. I didn’t mean it any other way. Just calm down.”  He smooths a palm over hair and then rests it on her shoulder, squeezing tightly before taking her hand. Lacing their fingers together and pressing a kiss to the side of her wrist before placing their joined hands on his thigh. “It was a joke. You didn’t mean anything by it.”

“This is NOT the time for a joke like that,” she laments,  using her free hand to brush tears off her cheeks. Only to have the puppy to knock it out of the way in favour of licking her face.

“Even he’s upset now,” Tyler says. “There’s no reason to cry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Acting like this. I promised I wouldn’t get this; all whiny and teary and shit.”

“First off, you’re not whiny. We’re going through some serious shit right now and a lesser woman…a weaker woman...would have had a mental breakdown by now. I don’t expect you not to cry.”

“I said I wouldn’t though. That I’d be calm and composed around the kids.”

“Well there’s no kids here right now, is there. It’s just us. Unless you count him,” he nods down at the puppy sitting between her thighs; eyes intently focused on her, head cocked to the side. “Look at him. He’s looking at you like you’re his mother.”

“He’s so cute,” she sniffles, and scratches the top of Saju’s head. “Not as cute as you, but still really cute.”

“Did you seriously just call me cute?”

“You ARE cute. You can’t fight me on this, Tyler. You’re cute and disgustingly handsome and insanely sexy all rolled into one.  What a burden you have to carry every day being so superior to the rest of the species. You’ve set the bar extremely high for others.”

He grins. “And you say I’M biased?”

“It’s not being biased if it’s true. And I don’t mean to be this way. So weak and emotional and…”

“You know what? Stop. You’re not weak. You are so far from being weak. You’re the strongest woman...person...I’ve ever met. I don’t expect you to feel nothing. This is tough. And I’m feeling it too and there’s no kids around right now and if you need to cry and rant and rave and lose your shit, now is the time to do it. Better now than at home.”

“I’m just so stressed,  I’m so stressed and I’m so worried and I’m so fucking angry.”

“What are you angry about?”

“The whole thing. That we can’t just have a normal lie. That people won’t leave us alone.”

“You knew what you were getting into when you stuck around after Dhaka,” he gently reminds her. “You knew what life was like.  That there’s always someone out there, wanting revenge.”

“I know. And I don’t regret sticking around. I don’t regret you. Or us. I never have. I never will. I just hate it won’t leave you alone. That you’ve been through so much and you’ve come so far and it still won’t let you rest.  It’s still not enough. And when will it be? Next week? Next month? A year from now? Two years? Never?”

“Let’s just get through one thing at time,”Tyler suggests. “Let’s just get past this and then worry about anything else that might come along. There’s no sense getting worked up over this that even happened yet. That probably never will happen.”

“I just want this to be over. I just want you to go and do what you have to do. I just want you to end this. And then I want you to come and get us and take us home.”

“I will,” he promises, and squeezes her hand. “And I’ll come see you guys when I can. When they’ll be it’s safe enough to show up there.”

“The kids won’t understand why they can’t see you. And I don’t know what to tell them. They’re just little. They don’t need to know what’s going  on.”

“I’ll tell them that I can’t visit until I’ve done a few things. That I don’t know how long it’s going to be, but I’ll be there as soon as I’m done. They’re strong kids. And they’re smart. They’re everything that’s great about me and you, all put into them. It’ll be okay. THEY’LL be okay.”

“What if I’m not going to be okay?” Esme asks. “What if this is my breaking point and this is where I totally lose it and go nuts and then I can’t even take care of them properly?”

“You need to calm down.  I know you’re stressed and I know you’re scared and you’re freaked out, but you’re going to be fine. You have to be. For them. Okay? I need you to be fine. For our kids. For MY kids. And you’re strong and you’re resilient and you can do this. I know you can.”

She sniffles. “You have a lot of faith in me.”

“I do,” Tyler agrees. “But I know what you’re capable of. I was there; on that bridge. I know what you did. And if you can do that, you can do anything.”

“Just the thought of you being so close yet so far at the same time…”

“I’ll call when I can. You know I will. I’ll make sure you always know what’s going on and that I’m safe. And besides, you won’t be totally alone. Especially at night. You’ll have this little guy.” he nods down at the puppy. “He’ll keep you company. He’ll cuddle with you.”

“As cute as he is, I’d rather it be you.”

“Yeah,” he says, squeezing her hand and then raising it to his lips, pressing a kiss to it. “I’d rather that too.”

****

After dinner they retreat to the beach; sun falling lower in the sky and bringing slightly cooler temperatures and a much needed break from the humidity.  She sits on a blanket spread across the sand, legs outstretched and Addie laying along her thighs. A hand shielding her eyes from the slowly setting sun as she watched -in amusement- as Tyler, Ovi, and the kids attempt to teach the puppy basic commands. So far it’s been a bust; even with treats for both bribing and rewarding and Mac showing his new ‘sibling’ how it’s done.

The surprise had gone over well; bringing Saju with them when they’d picked the three oldest up at school. Millie wide eyed in shock when she’d seen that little bundle fur and huge blue eyes in her father’s arms, then dissolving into tears and sitting right down in the middle of the asphalt with the puppy in her lap. She’d been slightly disappointed -even with all the other presents she’d been spoiled with- when her entire actual birthday had gone by without the appearance of a puppy. So the pure joy and excitement had been heightened; tears reappearing every so often, accompanied by tight hugs and soft kisses for her parents and a “Thank you, mommy and daddy. He’s perfect.”  And since their initial meeting, Saju hasn’t left Millie’s side; following her around the house, sitting at the pool and whining for her while she went swimming, curling up on her lap while eating supper. He’ll be the bridge spot in their lives’ the one that will bring the smiles and giggles while in India.

She wonders how long it will be. Until all the names are crossed off the list and they’re able to come home. She doesn’t want to make Mumbai a long term resident; her happiness and her calm and serenity all rooted in Australia. In their home and their property; in the smell and the sound of the ocean and in every stunning sunset and sunrise. Things have been good here. Very good. Everyone much more relaxed and at ease; being near the water and surrounded by nature and every beautiful sight and sound that comes with it has been good for them. Mind, body, and soul. And her marriage has been better. Stronger. They’re not as irritable with each other anymore; no longer a lingering mutual hostility that always seemed to be brewing right under the surface.  The fighting not occurring as much and far less volatile when it does creep up.  Words not as harsh and cutting; no attempts at hurting one another when they feel wronged or disrespected.  Even after six and a half years, it’s very much a learning curve. Both victims of horrible first spouses and both carrying baggage for their pasts; both damaged in their own way. Yet somehow managing to balance each other out and heal all the dents and cracks.

Being away for four days had been a Godsend. The time alone not only helping them reconnect, but helping them recharge as well. A chance to be together and rediscover one another outside of being spouses and parents; reminded of how important it is to keep all the other aspects of their relationship thriving as well. And while she’s grateful for that time away, the heartbreaking truth is that it may have very well been the last time they would be together. The possibility of him not surviving is very real; more so than any other job he’s ever taken. Their danger and unpredictability paling in comparison to the things he’ll face in Mumbai. The target on his back will grow with passing day; the bounty on his head increasing dramatically. And she knows it’s weighing on him; the magnitude of the situation, the threats against her and the kids, the thought that he may not make it home.

It’s a lot for him to carry; an already tortured mine being stretched to its limits. He barely sleeps; blaming it on pain when she knows full well it’s so much more than that, Wearing himself out and running himself ragged; attempting to devote every waking moment to both the logistics of the mission and spending time with his kids. Last night he’d fallen asleep -briefly- with the twins; that long, bulky frame looking even bigger on that bottom bunk, a son tucked under each arm. The evening before that, he and Millie had crashed on the couch together; Millie on his lap with her stomach pressed against his torso, head on his shoulder and both arms wrapped around his neck.  And she sees the pain on his face when he’s cuddling Declan while the toddler struggles to fall asleep, or when he’s feeding Addie and his eyes never once leave hers. A profound sadness that comes over him; the way his shoulders slump and he swallows noisily and his eyes become darker.  She’s seen him emotional many times in the past seven years, but she’s never...ever...seen him like THAT. A mix of despair and hopelessness; brain torturing him with the thought that this may very well be the last time Declan ever plays with his beard and his ears while trying to drift off, or come Sunday he may never get the chance to see his baby girl grow up.

Even now he’s at war with himself. She can see it. He’s trying so hard; attempting to separate Old Tyler and New Tyler for the sake of the kids. He’s convincing to them; they’re little and worship the ground he walks on and every smile and laugh is genuine to them and they relish every hug and kiss, not knowing the fears running through his mind. But she knows he’s fighting it; those two very different sides of him struggling to coexist.  She sees it in how distracted he is. In the way his face and his eyes will darken when the kids aren’t looking; the way his shoulders tense and his jaw clenches. So many emotions he’s attempting to rein in. All that fear and worry he insists on keeping locked away.

Even his smile now is forced. Tugging at tightly pursed lips as he heads towards her; Declan looking impossibly small alongside of him, clutching one of his father’s hands as he  unsteadily navigates the sand.  Leaving the three oldest where they are; content and safe with Ovi, still trying to teach the puppy tricks.

“He’s stubborn, huh?” She grins up her husband.

“Means he fits in around here. There’s a few stubborn people under our roof.”

“Yeah, there is. And I’m looking at the main culprit right now.”

“”Don’t talk about Declan like that.”

“You know damn well I wasn’t talking about him. And you can deny it all you want. You’re the most stubborn person to walk the planet.”

“Nope. I think someone has me beat.” Tyler tugs playfully at her ponytail and then slowly and gingerly lowers himself onto the blanket. Unable to hide the wince on his face when she settles next to her and stretches out his legs. The pain has been especially bad the last few days; limp more pronounced, knee seizing up and locking at inopportune times. It’s the last thing he needs; body betraying him in the middle of a job. Especially THIS job.

“You okay?” Esme asks. “That knee’s really been giving you a hard time.”

“I’m fine,” he replies, pulling Declan down into his lap and then reaching for the bag of drinks and snacks they’d brought along and handing his son a sippy cup of juice.  

She  watches out of the corner of her eyes when he runs one of those large, strong hands over their son's strawberry blond hair, then drops a kiss on the top of Declan’s head and presses another to his cheek. The sadness is there; in his eyes, written all over his face.  And she knows there’s nothing she can say or do to help alleviate the suffering that he’s going through. That reality being what hurts most of all.

“YOU okay?” Tyler asks, as he runs a palm over hair and settles it on the back of her neck.

“I’m okay,” she replies, and presses a kiss to his cheek. The bristles of his beard rough against her lips as they linger just below his ear.  The smile that he gives now is genuine; small, but soft and sincere.

He Turns his face into hers, covering her mouth with his in a long, slow kiss that is so gentle it both takes her breath away and brings tears to her eyes.   She keeps them closed; not wanting to add another worry or stress to his already overflowing plate. And she wraps both arms around his bicep and lays the side of her head against his shoulder; fingertips running over smooth skin and hard muscle. Only opening her eyes when she feels him move against her;  scooping Addie up with one hand as Declan crawls away to play in the sand.

“Are you actually going to come to bed tonight?” Esme inquires, as he lays Addie along his free arm, heading resting in the crook of his elbow. Noticing both the  way he swallows around a lump of emotion that sits solidly in his throat, and his eyes well with tears.

“Why?” Tyler leans down to press a kiss to Addie’s forehead. “Miss me?”

“Just a little. I know I always complain about your snoring and your cold feet, but I miss them when they’re not around.”

“Probably won’t be around for a while.”

“Hopefully not as long as you think.  And I know I probably sound selfish because I just spent four days alone with you, but I miss you. Last night you fell asleep with the twins, the night before it was with Millie. I’m starting to get a little jealous.”

“Nothing to be jealous about. You’re still my favourite.”

She smiles and presses a kiss to his shoulder. “I’d really like it if you came to bed. OUR bed Because I have two days left with you and I want to be with you. As much as I can.”

A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Are we talking in the biblical way, or…?”

“In EVERY way. I want to feel you. Beside me. INSIDE of me. I need that. I need YOU. I  need to make it last until I get the chance to be with you again. So come to bed tonight. Please.”

“I will,” he promises, and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “I haven’t been sleeping good,” he admits. “I wake up maybe an hour, hour and a half into it and I can get back.”

Esme removes one of her arms from around his, then reaches up to comb her fingers through the longer strands of hair on the top of his head. “You’re not going to be any good if you burn yourself out.”

Tyler sighs. “I know.”

“You need to take care of yourself too. You’re not sleeping, you’re barely eating even though you’re working out twice as hard, you’re in pain….”

“I’m always in pain.”

“You’re in even more. I can tell. You don’t have to say it; I just know. And if it’s THAT bad, maybe you shouldn’t do this. Maybe you give the list to Nathan or Koen or even Yaz or Nik. Nik can get people on it.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t,” he snarls, and immediately regrets it. Sighing heavily, he briefly closes his eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that; to snap at you like that. You’re the last person who deserves it.”

“It’s okay,” she places a kiss on his cheek, chin resting on his shoulder as she continues to comb her hand through his hair; letting the thick tresses slowly slip between her fingers. “You’ve got a lot going on in that head of yours. I’m surprised you haven’t been more on edge. That you’ve been handling it as well as you have.”

“It’s what I gotta do, yeah? Keep it together for you and the kids?”

“It’s better for the kids if you do. But you don’t have to for me. You know that. I’ve been through this before; you leaving for a job. It’s never easy. I’m always worried the second you step out the door.”

“This is different,” he says. “This isn’t like any other job I’ve ever done.”

“It’s personal.”

He nods. “Very.”

“Tyler, there’s no shame in backing out of this. If you’re in this much pain and you don’t think you can physically handle it…”

“I didn’t say I couldn’t. You’re just assuming I can’t.”

“I know you’re in pain. And it’s worse than it’s ever been. If you have to back out, there’s no shame in that. It’s better if you leave things to someone else if there’s a chance something can go wrong with your shoulder or your knee or your back. Because if something DOES happen…”

“Nothing is going to happen,” Tyler insists. “It’s not that bad. It’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ve dealt with worse.”

“...if something DOES happen…” she continues. “...it’ll be a disaster if it happens at entirely the wrong time. What if you’re alone? What if your knee goes out and you’re alone and you can’t get out of somewhere?”

“That won’t happen.”

“You don’t know it won’t.”

“And you don’t know it will,” he retorts. “All of a sudden you don’t trust me?”

“You know that’s not it. You’re the only person I DO trust. I’m worried about you. And it’s not just your physical issues, either.”

“My fucked up brain, you mean?”

“I didn’t say that. I’d NEVER say that.  But you’re aren’t sleeping and you’re on edge and you’re pushing yourself behind even your limits and I don’t want this to break you. Because I’m worried if it does, we won’t get you back together again. There’s people that can do this. People YOU trust. They’re as capable as you are.”

“No one is as capable as I am. Or as good as I am.”

“I’m asking you to reconsider this. Because I don’t know if you’re up to this And I’m not saying that to hurt you. I’m saying to possibly save you. Because you have five little kids at home that need you, I need you. And if it breaks you...if it DESTROYS you…”

“I can’t back out,” he argues. “I can’t. I can’t even consider it.”

“What if we still went to Mumbai but you stayed with us?” Esme suggests. “At Anil’s house. You can protect us a lot better than any of his people can, and you know that. I trust you with my life. With our kids’ lives. I’d rather it be you watching over us than anyone else. What if you stayed with us and only went if you were really needed?”

“You know I can’t do that. You know it will just draw them to you. To the kids. It’ll only bring them right to you if I stay there.”

“But you’ll be there. That’s what I’m saying. You won’t let anything happen to us. You’re more than capable of protecting us. I know the things you can do. I’ve SEEN what you can do. There’s no doubt in my mind you can keep us safe.”

“I can’t stay with you,” Tyler insists.

“Why? Give me one good reason. One good, valid reason why you have to be the one who does this?”

“Because this is about MY family. Not anyone else’s. My wife. My kids. It’s how it has to be.”

“No,” she remains adamant. “It doesn’t. There is a huge target on your back and an even bigger bounty on your head. Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to lay low? Not take the chance of someone seeing you? Dhaka was bad enough.Every gun there was pointed at you. And with the kind of money and power Mahajan has, Mumbai is going to be even worse.”

“Babe, I know you’re worried and I know you’re scared and that you’d rather me say behind and keep an eye on you and the kids…”

“That’s EXACTLY what I’d rather.”

“But I can’t. I can’t take the chance of bringing them right the fucking doorstep. What am I going to do against twenty, twenty five guys? What chance do I stand? That’s a fucking army.”

“Look what you did in Dhaka. In the apartment when you went to get Ovi. You were able to handle all of them.”

“Those were street thugs. Any merc could have handled them.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. If you any merc could have handled them, Nik would have got just anyone to do it. But she didn’t. She got YOU  for it. So no. Not any merc would have done what you did.”

“There is a big difference between street thugs and who Mahajan has working for him. These guys are ex military. Special forces. They're not some poor, desperate kid off the street trying to impress a drug dealer. These people know what they’re doing. And they’re vicious and they’re dangerous and they’re ruthless.  They won’t stop until we’re all dead. And they’ll make me watch. They'll make me watch them kill my kids and you. They’ll make me watch them do sick and twisted shit to you first. Is that what you want? You want me to go through seeing that?”

“No. Of course not! That’s what I want. I would NEVER wish that on you.”

“I can’t take the chance of bringing them right to you and the kids,” he says. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

“There has to be some way. To keep us safe and YOU safe. There has to be.”

“I know what I’m doing. Why are you doubting? Two days before I leave. You’ve never doubted me before, so why now?”

“I’m not doubting you!” Esme snaps. “I’m scared of losing you! I’m terrified of it! More than I've ever been with any other job you’ve gone on. It’s all I think about. Nik or Koen or Anil showing up and telling me you’re dead.  I don’t even want to go to sleep because I dream about it.”

“It’s okay.” He presses a kiss to her temple, then runs a hand over the back of her head, settling it on her shoulder. “Just breathe, baby. Just breathe.”

“And then I wake up and you’re not beside me and for a brief second my brain thinks you’re really dead and I freak out and I panic. It’s why I need you there. In bed. I need to wake up and see you there. Or feel you beside me. Because then I know you’re okay. That you haven’t left yet and you’re not dead…”

“Calm down, Esme. Just calm down. Everything’s okay.”

“Everything is so far from okay. And I feel so helpless. I don’t know what more I can do. To prevent someone showing up and telling me you’re dead. I don’t know how to get you to change your mind about all of this.”

“You can’t. I HAVE to do this. I don't trust anyone else the way I trust myself. This is MY family they’re threatening. My wife and my kids. It’s why it has to be me. And I’m sorry. That it has to be this way. If there was any other way…”

“There HAS to be,” she insists. “There has to be another way.”

“There’s not. I wish there was. But there’s not.”

“This is such bullshit! How much more can one man take? I don’t want this breaking you. And I see it happening and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. “

“I’m going to be okay,” Tyler assures her, turning his face into hers and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Hand sliding down from the nape of her neck to the middle of her back, knuckles softly rubbing along her spine. “I’LL be okay.”

“Promise me that if it gets to be too much..if you feel it breaking you...that you’ll walk away. That you’ll let someone else handle things. Because we need you in one piece. Physically AND mentally.”

“If it gets to that, I’ll walk away.”

“Promise me."

“You know my promises are shit. I’ve broken everyone I’ve made in the past six and a half years. What good does it do to promise something when I’m just going to fuck it up? All I’ve done is fuck things up.  I started fucking things up seven years ago and I’m still fucking them up now.”

“Don’t say that,” she sniffles, and then knees beside him, curling both arms around his neck. Fingers of her other hand pushing their way into his hair. “You haven’t fucked anything up.”

“I’ve been a shit husband most of the time. I went back to the job without even telling you. I put it before you and the kids. What kind of asshole does that? What kind of asshole says the things I’ve said? Breaks every goddamn promise?”

“Things were bad then,” she reminds him. “We were in a bad place. We both screwed up; it wasn’t just you. We both lied and said shitty things to each other and tried to hurt one another. But that’s not us anymore. We haven’t been that way in a long time.”

“Six months is NOT a long time.”

“Everything is better now,” she continues. “WE’RE better. If we were anything like we were before, we would have fought a million times already. And you’d be drinking constantly and back on Oxy and everything would be falling apart. But those people don’t exist anymore. We left them behind when we left Colorado. We left them there and we’re not going back for them,”

“What if they find us?” Tyler asks.

“They won’t,” she confidently replies. “They’re long gone. We’re more now. So much better. And you can’t tell me you can’t feel that too. How things have changed. How WE’VE changed.”

“I do,” he admits. “Every day gets a little better.”

“Don’t ever say you’ve always fucked things up. Because that’s so far from the truth. You’ve always done whatever you had to to make sure the kids and I are safe and happy and taken care of. You’ve always done what you had to do to provide for us; even if it wasn’t always a decision I agreed with. You’ve always taken care of us. And we no one else can ever say differently.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Or those kids.”

“I know,” she pulls back to look at him, one hand on the back of his head, the  other on his cheek. “You’re a good man, Tyler. Even if you don’t think so. You’ve got to let it go. All that guilt and regret and self loathing. All of it. Because you’re not the same person anymore. You’re not the same man that left Austin or the one in Dhaka or the one that existed when we split up for six months.  He’s gone. He doesn’t exist anymore. And you’ve got to let that bullshit go. Because you’ve more than redeemed yourself. So if you’re doing this...Mumbai...because you’re looking for some kind of absolution…”

“That is NOT why I’m doing it.”

“...you’re not going to find it. There’s nothing TO find. That moment on the bridge...when Farhad shot you...absolution found YOU. It was over right there and then. You don’t have to keep looking for it. It’s done. There’s nothing more to be forgiven for.”

He swallows noisily around the knot of emotion sitting in this throat; hand resting on the small of her back, lips pressed to her shoulder. Eyes closing in an attempt to hold back the threatening flood of hot, bitter tears.

****

It’s two thirty in the morning and he finds himself awake. Sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded by file folders, loose pieces of paper, and his laptop, sipping black coffee in an effort to ward off any grogginess. He’d managed an hour and a half of sleep; a record for the past few days.  Woken up by pain and anxiety; chest aching, body covered in a cold sweat, panic gnawing at him and threatening to consume him from the inside out. He laid in bed for another hour; staring up at the ceiling as he attempted to calm himself and will both his mind and body to sleep. Somewhat comforted by the sound of his wife’s soft, rhythmic breathing and the warmth of her body pressed against his. But every time he closed his eyes the images remained; bloody and gruesome and horrific. Eventually it had become too much to bear and staying awake became the only option to preserve what’s left of his sanity. And he’s so focused on the work spread out in front of him and the hotel blueprints on the screen of the laptop, that he doesn’t realize she’s joined him in the kitchen. Not until she’s standing behind his chair; curling an arm around his neck and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“What are you doing?” she asks, voice groggy from sleep.

“Just going over some stuff.”

“You’ve been going over it non stop for four days. How many more times do you need to look at it?” There’s no judgment in her voice. No nagging. Just concern.

“Gotta keep my mind busy,” Tyler reasons.

“At two thirty in the morning?” She brushes the tip of her nose against his ear, then kisses it. And he smiles as he lays a hand on her forearm and turns his face into hers and kisses her.

“There can’t be any fuck ups.

“There won’t be,” she assures him. “You don’t fuck up. And you especially won’t fuck up when it’s THIS important. You should be sleeping.”

“So should you. Another nightmare?”

“No. Addie woke up for a feed. She went back to sleep right away. She’s getting bigger. Well bigger for her.” She gives a light laugh. “She just may fit into those newborn clothes soon. It only took seven weeks, but…”

“Yeah, she’s a tiny one.” he smiles. “Just a little peanut.”

“I love when you call her that. Your little peanut. I was kind of worried. When I woke up and you weren’t there.”

“Where’d you think I was?”

“You want the rational or irrational answer? It’s so late. Or so early. Whichever way you want to look at it. Do you really need to do this now? You should be upstairs. In bed. With me.”  She pecks the corner of his mouth, then presses a series of kisses along his jaw. “I’m needy.”

He grins. “Lately you are, yeah.”

“I can’t help how much I want you, How much I need to be with you. To feel you beside me. INSIDE of me. Who knows how long it's going to be before any of that happens again. You can do this later.”

“Won’t be any time tomorrow. What with Millie’s party and all the people that will be here. And I leave the next day, so…”

“Things aren’t starting until the second day you’re in Mumbai, right? Leave it to then. You don’t need to do this right now. Come to bed, Tyler. And stay there. There’s no reason for this.”

“I can’t sleep. And I don’t want to keep you up by tossing and turning all night.”

“You don’t HAVE to sleep.” Her chin rests on his shoulders, hands over his shoulders and down his chest. “There’s other things that can keep your body...especially your hands...busy. I need this. I need YOU.” Her lips press against the side of his neck, fingertips drifting over each well defined ab muscle, then just above the waist of his sweats. “So come to bed. Please.”

“Just give me a few minutes. Let me just get a couple things done and…”

“No.” She reaches out and snaps the lid on the laptop closed. “Enough. Stop torturing yourself like this. Stop dwelling on it and second guessing yourself and thinking about nothing but the worst case scenarios. Stop. Please. I need you to stop.”

“Esme, I know you mean well. And I know you’re worried about me; trust me when I say I appreciate it and I love you so much for it. But…”

“There’s no ‘buts’. Not a single one. You’ve been over this shit a million times. You don’t need to go over it a million more. It’s become an obsession. This whole goddamn thing. And it’s messing with your brain and it’s turning you into someone I don't even recognize. I NEED you to stop.”

Tyler sighs and leans back in his chair. “What do you want from me?”

“What do you mean what do I want from you?” She shoves the laptop away and squeezes herself between him and the table, perching herself on the edge. “I want you to stop. I want you to stop obsessing over this and letting it eat you alive. I see what this is doing to you and I hate it and I won’t just sit back and watch it destroy you.”

“I’m trying to protect you. I’m trying to protect my kids.”

“And you ARE. You ARE protecting us. And I trust you to protect us. But it doesn’t have to break you. It doesn’t have to destroy you. It doesn’t have to destroy US. Is that what you want? You want this to ruin us? Everything that we’ve worked so fucking hard for?”

“Of course not, baby. That’s not what I want.”

“You need to step back from this, Tyler. There’s other ways to protect us. You don’t need to do this.”

“Yes. I do.”

“No.” She clasps his face in her hands. “You don’t. There are other ways. You know there are.”

“They have to pay. They DESERVE to pay.”

“And they will.  But you don’t have to be the one that does it.”

“I do,” he insists. “You know I do.”

“Why? Do you think you have something to prove? Do you think I’ll somehow think less of you if you DON’T do this? That will never happen. I could never...ever...think less of you. Just hand this over to someone else and stay at Anil’s with me and the kids and protect us that way.”

He shakes his head. “You don’t understand.”

“I DO understand. I know you think this is up to you. I know you think you should be the one that goes after them because it’s your family that’s being threatened. But I am telling you right now, it does NOT have to be you.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” His palms rest on her thighs, and he places a kiss to each of her knees before looking up at her. “It has to be.”

“This will kill us. This will tear us about.”

“It won’t.”

“It’s already starting to. Because you’re closing yourself off. You won’t let me in. You won’t talk to me about anything, you won’t tell me what’s going on in your head, you won’t...”

“I can’t sleep because I don’t want to sleep,”  Tyler confesses. “Because I’ve been having nightmares. Fucking horrible ones.”

“About me?”

“And the kids.”

“When did they start?”

“Soon as we got back. Soon as I started working on all of this.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What could you do about it? You can’t stop them. You can’t make them go away. And I see these things happening...the things in the nightmares...every time I close my eyes. And that’s why I CAN’T sleep. Because I don’t want to see all of that.”

“Tyler…” she presses a kiss to his brow and then buries her fingers in his hair, drawing his head down into her. “...I’m sorry…I’m sorry your brain is like this.”

“I can’t make it stop. I can’t get it out of my head. The things they’ll do to you. The things they’ll do to my kids.”

“It’s okay,” she strokes his hair and the back of his neck, feeling the tears that soak straight through her shirt. “It’s going to be okay.  YOU’RE going to be okay.”

“That’s why I have to do this. It’s why I need to be the one that goes after them. That kills them. I want to make them suffer. I want them to beg me for mercy and I want to stand there and watch them die. That’s the only thing that’s going to make this all go away. And I’m sorry. That it has to happen this way.”

“I don’t want this breaking you. I don’t want this destroying us.”

“It won’t. I won’t let it. I love you. So fucking much.  And that’s why it has to be me.”

“Okay,” Esme relents, then tugs at his hair, encouraging him to look up at her. “ I love you. More than I ever thought I could ever love someone. And I just want you to be safe. I just want you to be okay.”

“I will,”  Tyler promises. “I’ll be okay.”

She gives a small smile, then leans over and presses a kiss to his lips. “Come to bed,” she says, as her fingers drift through his hair. “I need to be close to you. As close as possible. Just come to bed.”  She kisses him again, and this time when she attempts to pull away, he clamps a hand down on the back of her head, holding her firmly in place. And she can taste the salt of his tears on his lips as the kiss deepens. Becoming urgent. Needy. Desperate.

A kiss filled with fear. The worry that neither of them will get that chance...that kind of kiss...again.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Imagine...A Missed Call (Part 2)

Pairing: Dean x reader

Part 1

A/N: I normally don’t write multiple parts to imagines but here’s a little more of this one :)

To say you’d been excited the day Dean knew you were there finally in that hospital room was an understatement. You were ecstatic and bouncing off the walls. You had a chance to finally get back in your body after three longs months. 

Plus he was talking to you again, at least as best he could.

But cure number twelve was another no go and you were starting to get more than a little disappointed after a month of failures.

“Y/N,” said Dean after you made a plastic cup fly across the room. You scowled, sitting down on the end of the tray table. At least being a kind of ghost meant that you were weightless. You’d take the perks where you could get them. “We’ll get it.”

“This is hopeless,” you said, grumbling to yourself. You tucked your knees to your chest, taking a shaky breath. You were crying quietly, Dean rubbing his arms. You couldn’t even control your emotions and now he was freezing. You bit your bottom lip and saw frost form on the window.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly. “I know you’re scared and upset. I know, baby. You gotta keep fighting for me. We always find a way. We’ll fix it.”

He sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed your body’s hand, turning up his other one. You shifted and crawled over to the bed, resting yours on top of it, Dean smiling down at it. 

“I’m never leaving you, sweetheart. Never. Don’t you ever get scared about that. I’ll fix what I broke, I promise,” he said.

“You didn’t break anything,” you said, calming down some, the frost disappearing from the windows, the goosebumps leaving Dean’s skin. “Get me back so I can tell you this wasn’t your fault. Please. It wasn’t your fault, baby.”

“There,” he said, turning to you with a smile, even if he wasn’t quite sure where you were. “You’ll be okay. I’ll make it all better, Y/N. We’ll make it better.”

Two Weeks Later

“No, no,” you said, watching your body get moved out of the room. No way Dean would have moved you without telling you about it. You frowned as you felt yourself get tugged with it and you decided to sit on top of the bed, frowning as a doctor and nurse pushed you in an elevator. You rubbed your arms as they brought you down to a quiet part of the building, turning you into a room full of people all asleep in their beds. 

You saw someone tossing a ball up in the air, wide eyed when they saw you.

“Hey! You dead too?” he asked.

“I’m not dead,” you grumbled, the doctor and nurse plugging a few machines in but you noticed not all of them got hooked back up. “They didn’t...turn on my food. Or water.”

“Yeah. Those two ain’t winning any humanitarian of the year awards. They think they’re easing our suffering or something. Assholes,” he said.

“Wait. They...are those two murdering us?” you asked.

“Eh, doubt they call it that to themselves but pretty much. I’ve been in a coma since I was twenty three. Eight years. Blows but occasionally I get to meet new people like you and that chick Billie,” he said.

“Billie?” you swallowed. You felt the air shift, Billie giving you a little wave. “Oh come on.”

“Barry, I know you turned down the last reaper kid but you want to get out of here?” she asked him.

“Yeah. I’m tired of being stuck,” he said. She nodded and he was gone, Billie turning to you.

“Kid was here eight years. You’ve been here four months and at this rate, your body will die by the end of tomorrow,” she said, holding out a hand. “Final offer, Y/N.”

“You just said, I won’t really die until tomorrow,” you said. “So you can’t reap me until I’m actually dying.”

“You’re a Winchester. You’re long past your expiration date. I’ll take this as a no then,” she said, lifting her head. You both turned your heads as you saw a new pair of nurses enter and set up your feeding machine, your head cocking. “Alright, you caught me.”

“Why’d the other guy lie?” you asked.

“He’s been stuck here for years. I told him if he lied, I’d let him move on,” she said.

“This is for long term patients isn’t it,” you said.

“They need the other room upstairs,” she said, looking around. “I hope you enjoy these four walls. It’s what you’ll be staring at for eternity if you stay.”

You heard the doors open, a pissed looking Dean enter and start yelling at the nurses, Billie raising an eyebrow.

“He won’t be around forever, Y/N. What if he dies? You’re trapped. You’ll never get to be with him in heaven,” she said.

“I’ll die when I’m good and ready, thanks,” you shot back. “I ain’t going yet.”

“Maybe I’ll pop back in a hundred years. See how you’re doing then,” she said, vanishing in front of you. You sighed as you watched the nurses finish hooking everything up, Dean looking around the room after they left. You smiled and walked in front of him, cupping his cheek.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “Sorry if you got scared there for a minute. Sam’s looking into something. We’ll try it out tonight. I gotta run back and help him but I’ll be back later, promise.”

You smiled as he left, sitting up on your bed, listening to the quiet hum of machines going.

There was no TV to play with down there unfortunately and no windows made you bored quickly. There was little foot traffic so when you heard the double doors open, you lifted your head up.

Dean was smiling as he looked straight at you, running over and giving you a hug.

“Dean,” you said, pushing him back, seeing the red marks on his skin. “What...”

“I had to kind of...die a little for this to work,” he said. You shook your head, Dean smiling as he kissed you. “See you real soon. I hope.”

“Wasn’t your-” you got out before you blinked open your eyes, gagging on the tubes in your throat. You coughed and looked around with no sign of Dean, back in your body, your cold and achy body. You fumbled around and hit the switch beside you, a nurse coming inside to stare at you. You waved your hand and they rushed over.

“You’re awake?” they asked. You nodded, pointing at the tube. “Fuck me. You’re supposed to be brain dead.”

You threw up your hands and rolled your eyes. 

“Uh, I’ll grab a doctor.”

It took forever for them to get you unhooked and to stop poking and prodding at you. After hours and you never once felt a cold touch on yourself, you snuck out and started to look around the hospital. Dean had probably tried to overdose and you snuck behind a nurse’s station, finding one of his alias in the computer there.

You found room 212, Dean in bed with closed eyes, Sam smiling wide from his chair when he saw you.

“Is he...” you said.

“Just sleeping,” said Sam, walking around and giving you a hug. You returned it and slapped him in the face. “Told Dean you’d kick our ass for that.”

“He could have died. He could have been trapped. He could have caused irreversible damage, Sam,” you said.

“Cas fixed him up. He’s-”

“Hey,” said Dean hazily, giving you a smile as he stirred. “Please tell me I’m not hallucinating.”

“The accident wasn’t your fault you idiot,” you said, stepping over and kissing him hard. He hummed and blinked slowly when you broke apart. “Don’t you dare do something like that again.”

“So happy to hear you yell at me,” he said, grabbing your hand. “I’m so sorry I didn’t answer the phone.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said, sitting on the edge of his bed. “I love you. All I want to do is go home with you Dean.”

“Me too sweetheart.”

Two Months Later

“If you’re not going to pick up in the bathroom I’ll do it myself,” you shot back at Dean, surprised to see a flicker of fear on his face. “Dean? What’s wrong?”

“I know we’re having a fight and everything right now but...” he said, eyes going right to the door up to the garage. “Can you please not go for a drive?”

You pursed your lips at the dirty towel in your hand, tossing it on the floor and walking over to him, throwing your arms around him.

“I won’t,” you said. You smiled and felt his lips on your temple. “How about you just get the dirty stuff in a basket and I’ll do all the laundry from now?”

“Okay. I’ll pick up all of the dusting though,” he said. “Deal?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I wish we did that the first time.”

“Me too,” he said. “I know you’re mad about me risking myself so I could pull you back but you’re my girl. I was always going to get you back one or the other.”

“Thank you for saving me, Dean,” you said. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”