#his parents have already migrated

[radfemsiren]

Remembering my Afghani American best friend from my islamic elementary and middle school whose dad would get drunk every night and beat the shit out of her mother. She begged and begged for sleepovers because strangers in the house would make him leave, and I never told my parents about the situation (I lied and said she had no father or brothers) because I loved spending time at her house and staying up the whole night doing all the things we weren’t allowed to do that was “haram”… watching rated r movies, playing horror computer games, dancing to music videos on YouTube, cat walking in heels and makeup, scaring ourselves with creepypastas.

I remember we had a million stupid ass discussions about who the purple guy from five nights at Freddies was, or what a slenderman proxy meant, or if there were illuminati signs in Katy Perry music videos, or if emo drawings of Jeff the killer were hot. We’d whisper fight if Beyoncé or Lana del Rey was a better singer, or if teen wolf or maze runner had cuter boys. She was team Beyoncé and teen wolf.

We had to constantly be separated in school for talking, and we hated the creepy janitor and would throw wads of wet paper towel on the bathroom ceiling for him to clean up later. We got into so much trouble together, and would always smirk at each other in detention when we got yelled at. We’d shoplift lipsticks from the mall, and throw away expensive Quran transliterations from school, and sneak into the teachers break room and steal handfuls of ice and throw them on the imam/principal’s desk when he was gone to ruin his paperwork.

I moved away like I always had to do with my constantly migrating family and we lost touch. The last time I saw her in person was when we were still kids at her brothers wedding. I was laughing while I tried to ask her why the bride kept changing into different brightly colored dresses throughout the night. She wasn’t listening, and she burst into tears and cried about how her brother was just like her father and did every horrible thing he did. I held her and squeezed her so tight I thought her bones would break.

I recently tried to reconnect with her again but she’s already married, pregnant, and has abandoned social media and texting because it’s “haram.” Trying to talk to her was like speaking to a stranger… she had no interest in any of the things we would spend hours playing with before. “Islam is important to me now, I’m a new woman. We were messed up kids, it’s time to grow up.” She told me to never contact her again and hung up the phone.

Sometimes I feel like I failed her, and sometimes I understand that I was a girl trying to survive too.

One day I’ll save money to travel back there and talk to her in person. I’ll snap her out of it. We’ll spend all night up together again doing every terrible thing our teachers and parents and religious leaders warned us against, and laughing the whole way through it. We’ll get kicked out of bars and get into trouble and snicker our way through it all, knowing we’ve already won. I still have her dirty, worn, my littlest pet shop horse she gave me when we first met. I hold it in my hands when I see news of the what’s happening to the women of Afghanistan, and I feel like I’ve failed her again. That I’ll forever be stuck an immature child and her a miserable adult, both of us doomed, unable to be saved from our fates in the end.

[unionizedwizard]

so. many people have already pointed that koana is sort of like an ARR alphinaud remix and while it is not untrue, i think this analysis is only superficially correct. because the salient point of koana's character is that he feels shame and resentment towards his roots & origins and therefore overcompensates with sharlayan weabooism (well-intentioned, but still unsuitable). he comes off as really weird and stuck up, in the beginning especially, where it's like. "what the fuck is this guy's problem" in a way that's rather similar to the average player's reaction to ARR alphinaud.

BUT!

the thing with ARR alphinaud is that he was the Quintessential Sharlayan, both on account of his upbringing and family tree, and of his personal interests and achievements. he was (and still is) secure in his origins and cultural identity. koana's case is different, because he clearly loathes tradition and turali cultural practices in a way that comes across (and fundamentally is) really weird and destructive, which comes to bite him in the ass on many occasions during the rite of succession (and understandably so).

it all starts to make sense when you learn about his backstory though. while we know that wuk lamat doesn't remember anything of her own childhood, having been adopted by gulool ja ja as a toddler, koana was adopted at a much older age. he remembers his early years, and that's what fuels his entire vision for the future of tural. as he tells it, he was born to one of the most traditionalist hhetsarro tribes in tural, and abandoned (accidentally(?) left behind) during one of their yearly migrations, only surviving thanks to a pelupelu merchant who rescued and took him in before employing him in his tuliyollal shop. an obviously incredibly traumatic event that would shape everything about his future mindset: he's closed off and withdrawn to the extreme, highly analytical, values self-sufficiency and independence and technical innovations above all else, because that's how he survived to begin with. because his nomadic, highly traditional, presumably (from what we've seen of the one hhetsarro tribe we've met so far) tight-knit, spiritual and social tribe rejected and abandoned him. it would make sense that he'd rationalize this unfathomable violence by leaning hard into the opposite, and letting his own pain and resentment color his entire vision, turning his own feelings into a more general mindset of shame, resentful inadequacy, and complete rejection of anything "traditional"

i think sharlayan was a good choice for him because it's pretty much, indeed, the opposite atmosphere: in sharlayan culture, family ties are a lot less emphasized, while the kind of ties that colleagues, peers, teachers and students develop are considered as very important (see pretty much every sidequest and margrat's custom deliveries and all). all these relationships based on a common work and aspirations rather than origins would indeed agree with koana's character better, and his analytical skills, vision and intelligence are pretty much the most valued traits to them.

which is why it was actually such a stroke of genius to have thancred and urianger specifically support him. of course, both of them had a character development arc that echoed with koana's issues: learning how to express himself more openly and acknowledge his feelings, all that, meaning they were uniquely able to help him. but when you look more closely, they can also relate to him on a more personal level: thancred was "adopted" by louisoix as an orphaned lominsan street urchin, probably at a similar age as koana when he was adopted by gulool ja ja; and urianger's parents notably "abandoned" him to the point he was mostly tagging along at moenbryda's house and, later, at the leveilleur estate, as louisoix's disciple and honorary uncle to the twins (also worth noting that urianger and koana share the same flavor of autism).

so the rite of succession was a much-needed window into his own biases and (literal) coping mechanisms, and must have been quite difficult to deal with considering pretty much all the feats involved interacting with and strengthening tight-knit smaller communities with strong traditions and family ties. luckily, partly thanks to thancred and urianger (but not only! he did the work himself), he was clear-minded enough to realize his own failings, and well-intentioned enough to step down - because he did not want power for its own sake, unlike zoraal ja; he wanted to protect the turali people from a potential invasion by leaning hard into foreign technological advances, therefore mimicking his own personal journey and adapting his own tried-and-true methods of survival: anticipating the hardships, being as independent and self-sufficient as possible, and choosing isolationism.

and finally i want to point out that the new techniques and technologies he imported from sharlayan are all (safe, fast and reliable) modes of transportation: aetherytes, dirigibles (including the alpaca carriage adaptation), and trains. interesting choice, moreso considering that while aetherytes are the #1 sharlayan specialty, they have neither dirigibles nor trains; which takes on a whole new layer of meaning when you remember that his original tribe was nomadic and that he specifically was left behind, stranded in the desert, during one of their traditional migrations............

in this regard he truly IS green g'raha, considering that g'raha was, similarly, raised in a traditional seeker manner before being sent to sharlayan for his own (and the tribe's) safety; of course the difference is that g'raha embraced his heritage by locking himself in the crystal tower by the end of ARR, since the G tribe was tasked with guarding the remaining allagan ruins and weapons, to make sure their power would not be misused by yet another imperialist military force (he locked himself in the tower to reinforce its defenses and make sure the garlean empire would not access it to conquer eorzea)

thank you for your time 👍

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive (Daily updates!)

An older (published in January 2024) but interesting and comprehensive look at long Covid's effect on Latino families and communities in the US.

By Lygia Navarro and Johanna Bejarano

Editor’s note: This story first appeared on palabra, the digital news site by the National Association of Hispanic Journalists. It is part of a series produced in partnership between palabra and Northwest Public Broadcasting (NWPB) with the collaboration of reporters Lygia Navarro and Johanna Bejarano. *Some people interviewed for this article requested anonymity to discuss private health issues.

Victoria* is already exhausted, and her story hasn’t even begun. It’s late January 2021 in rural Sunnyside, Washington. The town of 16,000 people is a sleepy handful of blocks flecked with pickup trocas, churches on nearly every corner, and the twangs of Clint Black and Vicente Fernández. Geometric emerald chunks of farmland encircle the town.

Thirty-nine-year-old Victoria drags herself back and forth to her parents’ bedroom in a uniform of baggy burgundy sweatpants, scarf, knit hat and mask. Always a mask. As the eldest sibling, her unspoken job is to protect the family. But COVID-19 hits before they can get vaccinated.

When Victoria’s mamá got sick and quickly infected her papá, Victoria quarantined them. She shut them in their room, only cracking the door briefly to slide food in before retreating in a fog of Lysol.

Working in the health field, Victoria knows if they make it through the first 14 days without hospitalization, they will likely survive. Yet, caregiving drains her: Keeping track of fevers. Checking oxygen saturation. Making sure they’re drinking Pedialyte to stay hydrated. Worrying whether they will live or die.

Five days in, COVID comes for Victoria. Hard. Later, when she repeatedly scrutinizes these events, Victoria will wonder if it was the stress that caused it all — and changed her life forever.

At the pandemic’s onset, Victoria’s family’s work dynamics fit the standard in Sunnyside, where 86% of residents are Latino. “Keeping the members of your household safe — it was hard for a lot of families,” Victoria says. Living in multigenerational homes, many adult children, who’d grown up in the United States with access to education, had professional jobs, and switched to working from home. Their immigrant elders, who’d often only been able to finish fourth grade, braved the world to toil in fields, produce packing plants, supermarkets, or delivery trucks. As Leydy Rangel of the UFW Foundation puts it: “You can’t harvest food through Zoom.”

More than three decades ago, when 6-year-old Victoria’s family migrated from rural northern Mexico to this fertile slip of land cradling the zigzagging Yakima River, their futures promised only prosperity and opportunity.

According to oral histories of the Confederated Tribes and Bands of the Yakama Nation — who white colonizers forced out of the Yakima Valley in 1855 — the valley’s fecund lands have fed humans since time immemorial. Soon after the Yakamas’ removal to a nearby reservation, settler agriculture exploded.

By World War II, employers were frantic to hire contracted bracero laborers from Mexico — themselves descendants of Indigenous ancestors — to harvest the valley’s bounty of asparagus, pears, cherries and other cornucopia. This was how Victoria’s family arrived here: her abuelo and his brother had traveled back and forth to Washington as braceros decades before.

Victoria’s path took similar twists, in a 21st century, first-gen way. She moved all over the country for her education and jobs, then returned before the pandemic, bringing a newfound appreciation for the taste of apples freshly plucked from a tree that morning, and for the ambrosial scent of mint and grapes permeating the valley before harvest.

Today, agriculture is the largest industry fueling the Yakima Valley, the country’s twelfth-largest agriculture production area. Here, 77% of the nation’s hops (an essential ingredient in beer) and 70% of the nation’s apples are grown. Latinos, who constitute more than half of Yakima County’s population, power the agricultural industry.

While the area’s agricultural enterprises paid out $1.1 billion in wages in 2020, 59% of the low-wage agriculture jobs are held by undocumented folks and contracted foreign seasonal laborers doing work many Americans spurn. Latinos here live on median incomes that are less than half of white residents’, with 16% of Latinos living in poverty. Also in 2020: as they watched co-workers fall ill and die, Latino farmworkers repeatedly went on strike protesting employers’ refusals to provide paid sick leave, hazard pay and basic COVID protections like social distancing, gloves and masks.

“Every aspect of health care is lacking in the valley,” Yakima Herald-Republic health reporter Santiago Ochoa tells me.

In interview after interview, Yakima Valley residents and health care workers sketch in the details of a dire landscape:

The state’s busiest emergency room. Abrupt shutdowns of hospital facilities. Impoverished people without transportation or internet access for telehealth. Eight-month waits for primary care appointments. Nearly one in five Latinos uninsured. More than half of residents receive Medicaid. Resident physicians cycling in and out, never getting to know their patients. Not enough specialists, resulting in day-long trips for specialized care in bigger cities. With its Latino essential workforce risking their lives to feed their families — and the country — by summer 2020, COVID blazed through Yakima County, which quickly became Washington’s most scorching of hot spots. Not only did Yakima County tally the highest per-capita case rate of all West Coast counties (with Latinos making up 67% versus, 26% for white people), it also saw more cases than the entire state of Oregon. Ask Latinos here about 2020, and they shiver and avert their gazes, the trauma and death still too near.

Their positive tests marked just the beginning of terrifying new journeys as COVID slammed Victoria and many other Yakima Valley Latinos. Mix in scanty rural health care, systemic racism and a complicated emerging illness, and what do you get? Chaos: a population hardest hit by long COVID, but massively untreated, underdiagnosed, and undercounted by the government and medicine itself.

It won’t go away The cough was the first clue something wasn’t right. When Victoria had COVID, she’d coughed a bit. But then, three months later, she started and couldn’t stop.

The Yakima Valley is so starved for physicians that it took five months to see a primary care doctor, who attributed Victoria’s incessant cough to allergies. Victoria tried every antihistamine and decongestant available; some brought relief for three, maybe four weeks, and then returned spasms of the dry, gasping bark. A few minutes apart, all day long. The worst was waking up coughing, at least hourly.

Victoria had chest x-rays. An ear, nose and throat specialist offered surgery on her nose’s deviated septum. As months passed, the black hair framing Victoria’s heart-shaped face started aging rapidly, until it was grayer than her mother’s.

Over a year after the cough began, an allergist prescribed allergy drops, and Victoria made a chilling discovery. Once the drops stopped the cough for a month, then two, Victoria realized that the extreme fatigue she’d thought was sleep deprivation from coughing all night persisted.

“The exhaustion comes from within your soul, it overpowers you,” she says. “It’s intolerable.”

And her mind was foggy. When interrupted at work every 10 minutes by a coughing jag, Victoria hadn’t realized COVID had substantially altered her brain. “There are things in my brain that I should have access to, like words, definitions, memories,” she says. “I know that they’re there but I can’t access them. It’s like a filing cabinet, but I can’t open it.”

Before long, the cough resurfaced. Sometime in 2021, reading COVID news for work, Victoria learned of long COVID: new or lingering health issues persisting at least three months after COVID infection.

How to get help if you think you might have long COVID Talk to your doctor, and if your doctor doesn’t listen to your concerns, bring a loved one to advocate for you at your next appointment. Bring this article (or other materials on long COVID) to show your doctor. Ask your doctor about seeing specialists for long COVID symptoms, such as a cardiologist (for dysautonomia symptoms like dizziness, heart palpitations and shortness of breath), a gastroenterologist (for digestive problems), or a neurologist (for chronic nerve pain). Ask to be referred to a long COVID clinic (if there is one in your area). Now four years into the pandemic, there is still no treatment or cure for long COVID. COVID long-haulers (as they call themselves) have reported over 200 varied symptoms, with fatigue, dizziness, heart palpitations, post-exertion exhaustion, gastrointestinal issues, and brain dysfunction among the most common.

Long COVID is far from a mysterious illness, as it’s often called by the medical establishment and some media. There are precedents: for at least a century, historical documentation has shown that, while most recover, some people remain sick after viral or other illnesses. Yet funds for research have been severely limited, and sufferers ignored. Myalgic Encephalomyelitis – sometimes called Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, or ME/CFS — is a prime example. Like ME/CFS, long COVID afflicts many more women (and people assigned female at birth) than men, with women comprising as many as 80% of COVID long-haulers. Most long-haulers are in their 30s, 40s and 50s — the busiest years for women with children, who often put their own needs last.

What should have been instantly clear, given how disproportionately Black and Brown communities were hit by COVID, was that long COVID would wallop Americans of color. Yet, the U.S. government waited until June 2022 to begin tracking long COVID. Even now, with 18 months of data showing Latinos are the population most impacted by long COVID, palabra is among the very few media outlets to report this fact. Are the nation and the medical community willfully ignoring Latino long-haulers — after sending them into clouds of coronavirus to keep society’s privileged safe?

Fighting for a diagnosis When Victoria mentioned long COVID, her doctor didn’t exactly ignore her: she listened, said “OK,” but never engaged on the topic. Same with Victoria’s allergist and the ear, nose and throat specialist. All they could do, the doctors said, was treat her symptoms.

“I’m highly educated and I know that you have to be your own advocate. But I kept asking, kept going on that line of thought, and they had nothing to say to me. Absolutely nothing,” she laments.

Victoria understood science on long COVID was limited, but still expected more. “All of the treatments we tried, it was as if COVID hadn’t existed. They should at least say that we need to investigate more, not continue acting like it wasn’t a factor. That was what was most frustrating.”

Just as Victoria fought to have her illness validated by doctors, 30 miles away in the northern Yakima Valley town of Moxee, 52-year-old María* waged a parallel battle. Both felt utterly alone.

When the pandemic began, María became the protector of her husband and children, all asthmatics. When she fell ill New Year’s Day 2021, she locked herself in her room, emerging weeks later to find her life unrecognizable.

Recounting her struggles, María reads deliberately from notes, holding back tears, then pushes her reading glasses atop her head. (María moved here from northern Mexico as an adult, and feels most comfortable in Spanish.) Her dyed brown hair, gold necklace and lightly made-up face project convivial warmth, but something intangible behind her expression belies a depth of grief María refuses to let escape. When I tell her I also have long COVID, and fell ill the exact same month, she breathes out some of her anxiety.

María’s long COVID includes chronic, full-body pain; memory lapses so severe she sometimes can’t remember if she’s eaten breakfast; such low energy that she’s constantly like a battery out of juice; unending shortness of breath; joint inflammation; and blood flow issues that leave her hands a deep purple. (The only time María ventured to the hospital, for her purple hands, she says staff attempted to clean them, thinking it was paint.) Like Victoria, María used to enjoy exercise and hiking in the valley’s foothills, but can do neither anymore.

María has no insurance, and receives care at the Yakima Valley Farm Workers Clinic, created in 1978 out of the farmworkers’ movement. The clinic’s multiple locations are the valley’s main providers of care irrespective of patients’ ability to pay.

Whereas Victoria’s doctors expressed indifference to the idea of COVID causing her health complaints, María’s doctors not only discounted this connection, but made serious errors of misdiagnosis.

“Every week I went to see my doctor. She got so stressed out (at not knowing what was wrong with me) that she stressed me out,” María says. “My doctor told me, ‘You know what? I think you have multiple sclerosis.’” María saw specialists, and afterwards, even without confirmation, María says her doctor still insisted she had MS. “I told her, ‘No. No, I don’t have multiple sclerosis. It’s COVID. This happened after COVID.’ I was really, really, really, really, really, really insistent on telling them that all of this was after COVID.”

Latinos uncovering the connections between their ill health and COVID is rare, partially due to the plummet in COVID coverage on Spanish-language news, says Monica Verduzco-Gutierrez, a long-hauler and head of the University of Texas Health Science Center San Antonio long COVID clinic. There has been no national public education on long COVID, in any language.

“It’s hard for people to understand what the real impact of long COVID is now and in the future,” says Lilián Bravo, Yakima Health District director of public health partnerships and the face of COVID updates on Yakima Valley television early in the pandemic. “We’re looking at a huge deficit in terms of people’s quality of life and ‘productivity.’”

Eventually, María’s doctor sent her to another specialist, who said that if she didn’t improve within a month, he’d operate on her hip. María’s never had hip problems. “He said, ‘Well, I don’t know what you’re going to do,’” and then put her on a strong steroid medication that made her vomit horribly, María says. She hasn’t tallied what she’s spent on medical bills, but after paying $1,548 for a single test, it must be many thousands of dollars.

Meanwhile, María’s family and friends kept insisting her maladies were psychological. “I never accepted that. I told them: ‘It’s not in my head. It’s in my body.’” It wasn’t until more than a year after becoming ill that María finally saw a rheumatologist who diagnosed her with long COVID and other immune dysfunctions. “I told her, ‘Yes, I knew that my body wasn’t working. I knew that something was wrong.’ I felt like I could relax. Finally someone is telling me that it’s not all in my head.” Once María was diagnosed, her extended family switched to asking how she was feeling and sympathizing with her.

Victoria, on the other hand, has never received a long COVID diagnosis. At Victoria’s request, her doctor referred her to the state’s only long COVID clinic, at the University of Washington in Seattle, but Victoria’s insurance, Kaiser Permanente, refused to pre-approve the visit — and the clinic wouldn’t accept cash from her. At present, the clinic isn’t even accepting patients from the Yakima Valley or any other part of Washington — they are only accepting patients in King County, which includes Seattle.

Victoria’s family hasn’t accepted her health struggles either. “I’d say, ‘I know that you think I’m crazy,’” Victoria says, chuckling, as she often does to lighten her discomfort. “My mom would fight with me: ‘You forgot to do this! Why are you so spacey?’ ‘Mami, it’s not that I forgot. In reality, I completely lost track of it.’” If Victoria is fatigued, her family asks how that’s possible after a full night’s sleep. “I’ve found that I have to defend myself. When I try to explain to people, they hear it as excuses from a lazy person — especially being Latinos.”

Karla Monterroso, a 42-year-old California Latina long-hauler since March 2020 who spent her first year bedbound, says, “(With long COVID), we have to rest in a way that, in our culture, is very difficult to achieve. We really judge exhaustion.” In fact, pushing physically or mentally for work can make long-haulers much sicker. Karla says Latino ethics of hard work like those of Victoria’s parents “aren’t the principles that are going to serve us with this illness.”

Long COVID diagnoses in Latinos are still too rare, due to untrained family medicine physicians and medical stereotypes, says Verduzco-Gutierrez. (Doctors might see blood sugar changes, for example, and assume that’s just because of Latinos’ high rates of diabetes, rather than long COVID.) She says “misinformation on long COVID” is rampant, with physicians claiming long COVID is a fad, or misdiagnosing the bone-deep exhaustion as depression. When Verduzco-Gutierrez’s own doctor invited her to speak to their practice, the assembled physicians weren’t aware of basic research, including that the drugs Paxlovid and Metformin can help prevent long COVID if taken at infection. In Washington, physicians must complete training on suicide, which takes 1,200 to 1,300 lives in the state yearly, but there’s no state-wide training on long COVID, which currently affects at least 498,290 Washingtonians.

Cultural skepticism about medicine — and entrenched stigmas about illness and disability — mean Sunnyside conversations about aftereffects don’t mention COVID itself. Victoria’s relatives push traditional herbal remedios, assuming that anyone still sick isn’t doing enough to recover. “(People suffering) feel like they’re complaining too much if they try to talk about it,” Victoria says. Meanwhile, her parents and others in her community avoid doctors out of stubbornness and mistrust, she says, “until they’re bleeding, when they’re super in pain…, when it’s gotten to the worst that they can handle.”

“People in this community use their bodies for work,” Victoria says. “If you’re Latino, you’re a hard worker. Period,” says Bravo. “What’s the opposite of that, if you’re not a hard worker? What are you? People don’t want to say, ‘I came to this country to work and all of a sudden I can’t anymore.’”

Victoria sees this with her parents, who’ve worked since the age of 10. Both have health issues inhibiting their lives since having COVID — her dad can’t take his daily hour-long walks anymore because of heart palpitations and shortness of breath, and her mom began getting headaches and saw her arthritis worsen dramatically — yet neither will admit they have long COVID. Nor will their friends and family. “If they noticed the patterns of what they themselves are saying and what their friends of the same age are suffering after COVID,” Victoria says of her community, “they’d hear that almost everyone is suffering some type of long COVID.”

Long COVID’s deep impact on Latinos The “back to normal” ethos is most obvious in the absence of long COVID messaging while as many as 41 million adults now have — or have recovered from — long COVID nationwide. “The way that we’re talking about the pandemic is delegitimizing some of (long COVID’s) real impacts,” says Bravo of the Yakima Health District.

Even with limited demographic data, statistics show a nationwide reality similar to Victoria’s Sunnyside. Through a recurring survey, the Census Bureau estimates that 36% of Latinos nationally have had long COVID — likely a vast underestimate, given that the survey takes 20 minutes to complete online (Latinos have lower rates of broadband internet), and reaches only a sliver of the U.S. population. Experts like Verduzo-Gutierrez believe that true rates of long COVID in Latinos are higher than any reported statistic. California long-hauler Karla Monterroso agrees: “We are underdiagnosed by a severe amount. I do not believe the numbers.”

This fall, a UC Berkeley study reported that 62% of a group of infected California farmworkers developed long COVID. Weeks later, a survey from the University of Washington’s Latino Center for Health found that, of a sample group of 1,546 Washington Latinos, 41% of those infected became long-haulers. The Washington results may also be an undercount: many long-haulers wouldn’t have the energy or brain clarity to complete the 12-page survey, which was mailed to patients who’d seen their doctor within the prior six months. Meanwhile, many long-haulers stop seeing doctors after tiring of the effort and cost with no answers.

“Our community has not bounced back,” says Angie Hinojos, executive director of Centro Cultural Mexicano, which has distributed $29 million in rent assistance in Washington and hasn’t seen need wane. “That is going to affect our earning potential for generations.” The United Farm Workers’ philanthropic sister organization, the UFW Foundation, says union organizers hear about long COVID, and how it’s keeping people out of work, frequently.

Cultural and linguistic disconnects abound between doctors and Latinos on long COVID symptoms, some of which, like brain fog and fatigue, are nebulous. If doctors lack patient rapport — or don’t speak their language — they’ll miss what patients aren’t sharing about how long COVID changed their lives, work and relationships. That’s if Latinos actually go to the doctor.

“If you’re working in the orchards and your muscles are always sore, it’s just part of the day-to-day reality,” says Jesús Hernández, chief executive officer of Family Health Centers in north-central Washington. “If you’re constantly being exposed to dust and even chemicals in the work environment, it’s easy to just say, ‘Well, that’s just because of this or that,’ and not necessarily be readily willing to consider that this is something as unique as long COVID.”

Even Victoria says if not for the cough, she wouldn’t have sought medical advice for her fatigue. “There are a lot of people out there that are really tired, in a lot of pain and have no idea why. None,” says Karla, who was a nonprofit CEO when she became sick. “I have heard in the last three-and-a-half years the most racist and fatphobic things I have ever heard in my life. Like, ‘Oh, sometimes you got to lay off the beans and rice.’ I have a college education. I’m an executive. I am in the top 10% of wage earners in my community. If this is my experience, what is happening to the rest of my people?”

Conspiracy theories and misinformation As Yakima Valley’s Latino vaccination rates continue dropping, I hear all the COVID conspiracy theories: the vaccine has a chip that’ll track you; the vaccine makes you and your children infertile; COVID tests are rigged to all be positive; that hospitals get paid more for COVID patients. Victoria laughs at the most absurd one she’s heard. Her mom’s explanation for her health problems nearly three years after COVID: the vaccine.

Across the Latino United States, social media algorithms and WhatsApp threads promoting COVID disinformation proliferate. Last summer, Latino Center for Health co-director Dr. Leo Morales did a long COVID community presentation just south of Yakima Valley. The audience’s first question: Are vaccines safe? “This is where we’re still at,” Morales says. “That’ll be a big stumbling block for people…in terms of getting to talking about long COVID.”

One morning in early November, Morales and his team gather in Toppenish at Heritage University, where 69% of students are Latino, to present their survey data. Neither presenters nor attendees wear masks, an essential tool for preventing COVID transmission and long COVID. “The only conversation that I’m having about COVID is in this room,” says María Sigüenza, executive director of the Washington State Commission on Hispanic Affairs.

Yakima Valley health institutions are also ignoring long COVID. Of the two main hospital systems, Astria Health declines interview requests and MultiCare reports that of 325,491 patients seen between January and November 2023, 112 — or 0.03% — were diagnosed with long COVID. The Yakima Valley Farmworkers Clinic, where María’s doctor works, refuses to let me speak to anyone about long COVID, despite providing patient information for the Latino Center for Health’s survey. Their doctors simply aren’t seeing long COVID, the clinic claims. Same with the other main community provider, Yakima Neighborhood Health Services, whose media officer responds to my interview requests with: “It’s not going to happen.”

“I think they’re not asking, they’re not looking,” Verduzco-Gutierrez says. “Do the doctors just…look at your diabetes or your blood pressure, but not ask you, ‘Did your diabetes get worse when you had COVID? Did your blood pressure get worse? Did you not have blood pressure problems before? And now do you get dizzy? Do you get headaches? Do you have pains?’” She believes that many, if not most, Latinos with long COVID aren’t getting care, whom she calls “the ones that we’re missing.”

An uncertain future The outlook for Latinos with long COVID is grim. Cultural stigma and ableism cause now-disabled long-haulers to feel shame. (Ableism is societal prejudice and discrimination against disabled people.) Disability benefits are nearly impossible to get. Long-haulers are losing their homes, jobs and insurance. Latinos’ overrepresentation in sectors that don’t offer sick pay and are heavily physical — cleaning, service, agriculture, construction, manufacturing, homecare and healthcare among them — may automatically put them at higher long COVID risk, given ample anecdotal evidence that pushing through a COVID infection instead of resting can lead to long COVID. Latino care providers will become ill in greater numbers, imperiling the healthcare industry.

But Latinos may not be clear on these factors, says long-hauler Karla Monterroso. “My tío had said…'We must be defective because we get sick more than the white people.’ And I’m like ‘No, tío. We are exposed to the illness more. There’s nothing defective about our bodies.’ I’m afraid for us. It’s just going to be disability after disability after disability. We have to start in our small communities building caring infrastructure so that we can help each other. I am clear: No one is coming to save us. We’ve got to save us.”

Disability justice advocates worry about systems unable to cope with inevitable disabling waves of COVID in the future. “(Latinos) aren’t taking it as serious as they should,” says Mayra Colazo, executive director of Central Washington Disability Resources. “They’re not protecting each other. They’re not protecting themselves.” Karla sees the psychology behind this denial: “I have thought a lot about how much it takes to put yourself in danger every single day. (You have) to say ‘Oh, it’s fine. People are exaggerating,’ or you get that you’re in existential hell all of the time.”

Reinfection brings additional risk of long COVID, research shows, and Verduzco-Gutierrez says, “We still don’t know the impact of what is going to happen with all these reinfections. Is it going to cause more autoimmune disease? Is it going to be causing more dementia? Is it going to be causing more cancer?” She believes that every medical chart should include a COVID history, to guide doctors to look for the right clues.

“If we were to be lucky enough to capture everybody who has long COVID, we would overwhelm our (health) system and not be able to do anything for them,” Victoria says. “What’s the motivation for the medical field, for practitioners to find all those people?” For now, Victoria sees none. “And until that changes, I don’t think we will (properly count Latino long-haulers),” she adds.

Flashes of hope do exist. In September 2023, the federal government granted $5 million each to multiple long COVID clinics, including three with Latino-specific projects. In New York City, Mt. Sinai Hospital will soon open a new long COVID clinic near largely-Latino East Harlem, embedded in a primary care clinic with staff from the community to reach Latino long-haulers. Verduzco-Gutierrez’s San Antonio clinic will teach primary care providers across largely rural, Latino South Texas to conduct 15-minute low-tech long COVID examinations (the protocol for which is still being devised), and will deploy community tools to educate Latinos on long COVID.

Meanwhile, at the University of Washington long COVID clinic, staff are preparing a patient handbook, which will be adapted for Latinos and then translated into Spanish. They will also train primary care physicians to be local long COVID experts, and will return to treating patients from the whole state rather than just the county containing Seattle. After palabra’s inquiry, the UFW Foundation now has plans to survey United Farm Workers members to gauge long COVID pervasiveness, so the Foundation can lobby legislators and other decision makers to improve Latino long-hauler care.

Back at the Yakima Valley survey presentation, attendees brainstorm new care models: Adding long COVID screening to pediatric checkups, given that long COVID most impacts child-bearing-age women, so moms can bring information to their families and community. Using accessible language for long COVID messaging, or, as Heritage University nursing faculty member Genevieve Aguilar puts it: “How would I talk to my tía, how would I talk to my abuelita? If they can understand me, we’re good to go. If they can’t, olvídate. We have to reframe.”

More than anything, personal narratives will be the key to open people’s minds about long COVID — although that path may be challenging. In Los Angeles, Karla has dealt with a lack of full family and community support, in part, she believes, because her body represents COVID. “I am living, breathing proof of a pandemic no one wants to admit is still happening, and that there is no cure for what I have. That is a really scary possibility.”

While Karla does identify as disabled, Victoria and María don’t. Victoria has learned to live and move within her physical limits. At work, she sometimes feels inhibited by her cognitive issues. “I tell my boss all the time, ‘Oh man, you guys hired such a smart person. But what you got was after COVID, so it’s not the same.’” At times, she worries about the trajectory of her career, about how her work’s intense problem-solving wears out her brain. Will she be able to pursue larger challenges in work in the future? Or will long COVID ultimately make her fail?

Victoria tells me she “remains hopeful that there is a solution.” In a surprising twist, her cough completely disappeared eight months ago — when she became pregnant. (Other long-haulers have seen their symptoms improve with pregnancy, as well, likely due to immune system changes allowing a pregnant person’s body to not reject their baby’s growing cells). Victoria is optimistic that her other symptoms might disappear after she gives birth. And that, maybe someday, her parents will admit they have long COVID, too.

[strangersteddierthings]

Pumpkin Carving (A Halloween One Shot)

Pumpkin carving and a sleepover. An excuse for everyone to gather together on Halloween now that the Party has decided they're too old to trick-or-treat.

A pumpkin carving station has been set up in the Harrington's giant three car garage. Steve did debate setting it all up in the yard, less cleanup of the pumpkin insides that way, but it was pretty chilly, and Steve wasn't sure how long they'd all take to do the actual carving.

Does pumpkin carving take long?

Steve's never carved a pumpkin so he wouldn't know. There is no universe in which his mother would have allowed a pumpkin in her house, much less under the circumstance of then cutting it open and freeing it of its insides. While Steve has never participated in the act of carving a pumpkin, he knows how it goes. Hypothetically.

He'd needed to know enough to gather all the supplies after all, so a quick call to Robin (along with some gentle teasing and mocking) and he was set.

Eddie arrives first, having been volunteered to go get the pumpkins from the patch. It's not that Steve is scared of the pumpkin patch, or anything, it's just that Eddie's van would be better for transporting them.

Steve tried to offer to unload them, insisting it was only fair since Eddie had to load them, but Eddie just rolls his eyes and gets to work. It's not that pumpkins are extra heavy, but they aren't exactly light. And Steve knows that Eddie thinks Steve doesn't want his help because of how long it took Eddie to heal, but that's not the reason. Steve just...

Steve's just drawn to watching instead of helping when Eddie grabs a pumpkin under each arm, muscles flexing as he tightens his hold enough to keep them trapped between his arms and his sides and now Steve's left wishing, wistfully and not for the first time, that it was his thighs Eddie was wrapping those arms around. That it was him Eddie was hoisting up, perhaps holding against a wall and-

"Am I going to do all the loading and unloading?" Eddie bursts his thoughts by knocking their shoulders together as he passes by, already on his second round of pumpkin unloading.

"What, no, sorry," Steve turns to grab two pumpkins of his own. It's quick work with the two of them, then, to unload, and a short wait for everyone to start showing up.

Some biked, others dropped off by parents. Steve walks out to each car to chat and confirm that yes, of course they can stay the night; they won't be a bother and I'll keep them out of trouble.

Soon enough the garage is full of people, pumpkins, and noise. Lucas and Max have migrated to the corner of the garage closest to the door leading inside to whisper together as Lucas guts two pumpkins while Max describes what she wants on hers. Will and Mike have also set themselves apart to work out whatever it is they plan to carve on their own pumpkins. Dustin, El, Erica, and Eddie have plopped down in the center and just got to work. They aren't coordinating their pumpkins like the couples seem to be doing. They do seem to be taking it the most serious, though, with the absolute silence from all of them, concentration faces fully on.

Steve is off on his own, too. He's taken a seat about five feet from Eddie but he's the furthest from the door. He frowns down at his pumpkin, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He's not sure how to start. What to do.

He looks up from his pumpkin and over to Eddie. He's using a knife to saw around the stem of the pumpkin. Which, duh. Steve should have put that together. There has to be some way to remove the insides easily, so removing the top made sense.

Without trying to overthink it all, Steve stabs into the top of his pumpkin and starts sawing his own circle around the top. It's. Well, it's something. He wouldn't say sawing a circle is fun but it's not tedious and soon enough his knife returns to the starting point and... Hmm. He watches as the bit he just cut around sags into his pumpkin. Eddie's didn't do that.

Steve frowns down at it for a moment before grabbing the stem and pulling the top off. His face wrinkles in disgust at the stringy clump of pumpkin insides that hang from the top and he sets that down to the side quickly. He's realizing now why everyone else chose to wear short sleeves even though it's cold outside as he looks around the garage and sees everyone shoving their hands into the pumpkin, pulling stringy, seedy, strands of pumpkin out.

With a sigh, Steve rolls a sleeve up and plunges his own hand into the holes he's made and almost instantly rips his hand back out. Ew. No. Gross! Wrong! The feeling of the strands breaking under the pressure of his hand, the slightly moist feeling of the inside, the unexpected slipperiness of the seeds, all of it sends a shiver of revulsion up Steve's spine. He makes a soft gagging noise against his own will.

"You gonna be sick?" Eddie asks almost immediately.

"Uh. Oh, yeah," Steve says as he feels his face heat with an embarrassed blush. He can see that all eyes are on him now, which adds to his embarrassment on top of realizing the question he was asked and what he answered. "Wait, I mean no. I'm not going to be sick."

Eddie looks from Steve to his pumpkin, and back up. "Don't like the feeling of pumpkin guts?"

"It was just unexpected is all," Steve defends, even as the thought of sticking his hands back into the pumpkin sends another shiver through him.

"Unexpected," Dustin repeats back. Steve tenses but nothing else follows that. He looks over and Dustin seems to be having a silent conversation with Eddie judging by the stare down.

"Maybe I am gonna be sick," Steve lies, standing quickly and fleeing the garage.

God fucking dammit. Why is he so embarrassed about this? Why is he... he's hiding the fact he's never done this before, and he doesn't know why. They aren't going to mock him for it. Well. Maybe a little, but in the same way Robin did. Tease him because they love him. They wouldn't really be making fun of him. Except maybe Mike but Steve doesn't really care about his opinion anyway. Gave up on that a while ago.

He goes to the kitchen sink on autopilot, scrubbing the gross, now dried and tacky feeling from his hand. He's in the process of drying his hands when a voice startles him.

"Hey man. You okay?"

It's Eddie. Of course, it's Eddie they would send after him.

"Yeah," he turns so his back is to the sink, leaning back against it to look at Eddie.

"You never have to scoop out a pumpkin before? Did someone else do it for you?"

If anyone else had asked, Steve would think it was condescending. Someone mockingly asking after nannies or servants who would do the gross part of pumpkin carving for the little rich kid. But it's Eddie, and he's just curious and sincere. So, Steve says, "nah, man. Just never done this before."

Eddie's browse crinkle in confusion and Steve thinks he's so fucking cute. He wants to kiss the confusion from his brow. "You've never carved a pumpkin before?"

Steve just gives a shake of his head before shrugging. He wants to cross his arms, close in on himself, but it's Eddie. He's trying to not shy away from the people he cares about. He's trying to let them take care of him, too.

(It's been a process, since the defeat of Vecna. Learning to let people care about him. He's better at it these days. Robin said so and if anyone is an expert on him, it's her. He can't always trust his own opinion to be unbiased.)

"I'll scoop out your pumpkin if you still want to give pumpkin carving a try," Eddie offers, a soft, lopsided smile on his face that Steve adores. The bats took a good chunk of his left cheek, and the scarring is heavy, the muscles non-responsive, so every smile is lopsided, but Steve loves them all.

"Okay," Steve says, offering a soft smile in return but doesn't push off the sink. Not until Eddie approaches, taking Steve's wrist and tugging him along.

No one says anything when they return to the garage, nor when Eddie blows past his own pumpkin to sit next to Steve and grab up his pumpkin. Eddie looks down at the hole Steve's carved, a calculated look on his face. It's cleared away soon enough when he smiles as wide as his scarred cheek allows before he gets to work on the pumpkin. He cleans it out thoroughly before handing it back to Steve, then crawls across the floor to retrieve his own abandoned pumpkin, rolling it across the floor as he crawls back.

"Oh, wait. Can you go get me a marker?" Eddie asks, as Steve is examining his pumpkin, trying to imagine a face to go on it.

"Yeah," Steve says, glad to have a moment more to think about the face as he fetches a marker from his father's office.

He returns to most of the kids having already finished their own pumpkins. Unsurprising, considering how much time Steve spent just thinking about carving before he even started.

"Marker," Steve offers it out after he's sat down again, close enough that his knee is touching Eddie's this time.

"Thanks," Eddie takes the marker and adjusts so more of his leg is pressing against Steve's. "So, you can freehand the face if you want, or I could draw you a face to cut out? If you want."

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure," Steve says, shoving his pumpkin towards Eddie who looks delighted by Steve's answer. It doesn't take him long to draw on a face. Triangle eyes, a little rectangle nose, and a wide mouth filled with jagged teeth.

Steve and Eddie carve in quiet, while Steve basks in the warmth of Eddie's leg next to his, touching his. He's never been sure if Eddie likes him back, not enough to announce his own crush, but sometimes... There are times like this that fill him with hope.

Steve doesn't even realize they've been abandoned to the garage until Eddie finishes his pumpkin, which is three bats carved artistically into the side. Steve is impressed, and when he turns to ask if anyone else is, there isn't anyone there.

"Oh. I didn't even hear them leave."

Eddie plops the top of his pumpkin back on, which reminds Steve he needs to do the same. He reaches for his top but Eddie beats him to it, craving the gross mass of sides that was stuck to it off before handing it over it.

Steve sets the top back on the pumpkin, and it immediately drops into the pumpkin. "What. Why did it-?"

"You gotta cut the top into an odd shape or at an angle. Otherwise, that happens. But it's okay. You didn't know, and I know how to fix it. You got some toothpicks in your house?" Eddie says, assuring Steve before he even has time to overthink it.

Can Steve be any more in love with him at this point?

"What?" Eddie whispers, eyes wide and face slowly turning red.

"What?"

"You just... you, uhh. Did you not mean to say that out loud?"

"Say wha- oh God," Steve registers what he'd thought, or apparently, what he said and now he and Eddie are just staring at each other, wide-eyed and unmoving.

"I'm not going to question if you meant it," Eddie starts slowly, clearly the more brave one of the two, "just. I need to know if you mean it, like, romantically."

"I did. Do. I-" Steve can be brave, too. He can. "I do love you. Romantically."

"Holy shit. I want to pull you in and kiss you so bad but my hands are covered in pumpkin guts and-"

Steve does it for him, both hands grabbing at his face and pulling him in.

His first time carving a pumpkin ends up being fantastic, even counting the kids flooding back into the garage to scream 'finally' at them.

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems

[joydoesathing]

Hi, do you have some Raffael and Ann's / Arlenne and Glen's headcanons (P.S You rule!)

Why yes, yes I do. Here comes a

DOUBLE (QUADRUPLE?) HC SPECIAL ✨✨

The Schmichts

They met each other around the early 1930s in New York

The suppressed realist and his manic pixie dream girl baddie™️

Can definitely put up a fight, if needed

Arlene helps Glenn let loose from his close-minded thinking and Glenn Arlene the stable support and validation she needs in those occasional times after she gets wearied out from staying positive 24/7 despite the unfriendly society.

Arlene

A friendly woman who seems to be off in her own world at times

A really good observer and can remember and describe things in detail

Her works and publications are mostly nonfiction but she does occasionally write fictional short stories, both of which are mostly based on real-life horrors the world could offer at the time including those she has experienced and witnessed way back then

She was born in the South and originally worked in a factory in the but later on quit then migrated North with her family to escape the especially nasty hate in the South and later on pursue her budding passion for writing

Despite knowing she's almost definitely going to be put down no matter where she goes, she has steeled her resolve and continues persevering

Glenn

A conformist with a usually no-nonsense personality

Can be a bit hard for him to say how he actually thinks and feels (suppressed man™️)

Having had to work tooth and nail in school and in work to get to where he is right now, all the while being beat down with countless insults and learning the extreme race biases, he has developed the mindset that, even though he's extremely good at his job, he always needed to keep his head low and not step out of line ,lest he would get put out of his job for he knows how precarious his position is.

After meeting Arlene, he did become noticeably more relaxed and smiles more often

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The Cappuccins

They first met in the 1920s in New York ( yes another New York mention, but trust me, I have my reasons XD)

Tall ex-gangster husband and lawyer wifey™️

"I fear no man, but that, *points at Ann*, she frightens me." -Raf

A criminal and a lawyer, getting together? How did it happen? The power of love 💕💕💕

Ann

She comes from a wealthy English family known in a good amount of socialite circles

Quite graceful, crazy intelligent, has impeccable manners and an eloquent way of speaking

She decided to slowly distance away from her family when she was first starting of her career. Ever the ambitious woman she was, she wanted to try to stand independently and make a name for herself.

When she started dating Raffael, she was well-aware that he was part of a gang but she had already fallen for him and was willing to believe that he could change (and he did)

Raffael

Tall, intimidating and quite short-tempered, but a big softie when it comes to those he loves

Back then when he was a teenager he formed a street gang with some of his buddies to earn some money for himself and his parents (they weren't very well-off)

He then quit his gangster life to settle down with Ann for both her and his buddies' safety

He's actually softened a lot after getting married and even visits his parents time to time talk about his life.

From crime hardened gangster to uncle who just chills around in Hawaiian shirts

[lillaydee]

The Arrangement

Pioneer! Joel Miller / Reader

Your life crumbled to nothing during a migration to Jackson, forcing you to agree to an arrangement just to survive.

NOTE: I know nothing of the period or the life during that time. Just running off my imagination here. So sorry if there are inaccuracies in advance.

WARNINGS: Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Frontier Joel, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Virgin Joel, Virgin Reader, Minor Character Death, Period-typical Misogyny, Marriage of Convenience

SERIES MASTERLIST

PART 1

You climbed onto the driver’s seat of the family sized wagon and helped your mother up. She had the biggest smile on her face. A new start, she told you. She was so excited. After spending your entire life sharing a house with strangers, sleeping in one tiny room between the three of you, your father had finally managed to give your family a new life – a piece of land, in Jackson, Wyoming. Your family will have your own land to work on, your own house to live in, your parents will have their own room, and you, yours.

You were 20. An old maid, by the society standards. But you hadn’t wanted to marry. Your parents had you later in age, and they were not getting any younger. This move had been talked about for as long as you could remember, and getting married would mean separating from them, particularly if your hypothetical husband had a big family. You didn’t want that. Despite the possibility of being viewed as unwanted or defected by the society, you felt that you were thick skinned enough to face it, so long as you and your family were together.

And if this new life, in plot number three in Jackson, could bring you new adventures, or even a suitor, you wouldn’t fight it too hard.

Your father climbed aboard, taking the reins. You were seated on his left, your mother on his right. What little possessions your family had were all packed and arranged in the wagon, your two horses patiently waiting for his go ahead. The families you shared the house with gathered outside to say goodbye to you. Your father looked at the two ladies in his life and put his arms around each of you. Both you and your mother gave him a big, tight hug. His smile was infectious.

When he let go of the two of you, he took the reins in his hands again, tipped his hat at the gathered families, and clicked his tongue at the two faithful steeds. They began to move, and your family was off to start your new life.

It took two whole days to get to the next town, where the wagon train to Jackson would be gathering. Your family arrived very near night time, and your tired bones left no ability for any of you to do anything but to crawl into the wagon and shut your eyes.

**********

The sounds of a spoon being banged against the bottom of a pot stirred all three of you, still fully dressed from last night. You could hear the stream running nearby, quickly getting up and filling a bucket with some water for your parents’ morning routines, cleaning yourself as best as you could before bringing it back to the wagon. Your mother had already begun to prepare breakfast, your father having started a fire for her first thing.

He needed to meet with the organizers before breakfast, the aim was to move immediately once breakfast was over. He sent you to town for some quick supplies, and since time was of the essence, you took off running. You quickly got the items your parents had asked you to get, and hurried back to the meeting point, arms laden in packages.

You turned a corner and ran straight into someone. Your packages knocked off your hands, you off your feet, landing on your back, your skirt flying right over your head. You immediately got back on your feet, desperately trying to get your skirt back down, horrified that your drawers were out in the open. Alas, it was all to no avail. Your skirt had caught on to the pin on your hat and you couldn’t get it down no matter how hard you try. You were starting to panic, until a pair of hands stopped you, and a deep, low baritone told you to calm down.

Weirdly, while you realized that a man was speaking, you immediately calmed down. The man unhooked your skirt off the hat pin and lowered it immediately. Your sight was restored to him standing so close to you, having covered your modesty from public view with his own body.

“Are you alright Miss? I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

His eyes were averted from you, but you felt yourself blush. This man saw your drawers. You kept your gaze down, embarrassed by your own thoughts. He immediately bent down and picked up all your packages. You kept your eyes off him in your flustered state as he carefully placed them all back in your hands. You braved a glance at him.

He looked to be about your age. Tall, strong looking, broad as all hell. His strong jaw peppered with a rather unkempt beard and moustache. His brown eyes slightly veered away from yours. He was a good looking man. Good looking enough to make you avert your eyes again.

You mumbled a thank you and sorry, and quickly made your way back to your parents. You helped your mother pack the supplies quickly and got back up front into the seat. The wagon train began to move into position, apparently waiting for one more to join the group. You didn’t have to wait for long. The last wagon, a single one, came rolling around not a few minutes later.

And just your luck, the driver was none other than the man who saw your drawers.

The idea of travelling with him for two weeks was enough to make you retreat back into the wagon, just so that he wouldn’t see you. You could do that, right? He didn’t need to know you were in the group, right? It’s only two weeks, when you arrive in Jackson he won’t even know you exist. Surely, you could hope?

That hope was quickly squashed at lunchtime, when your parents decided to sit with him and his family. Apparently, he was travelling with his brother and his wife, and his two cousins. He seemed gentlemanly enough, not mentioning anything about your encounter. In fact, he didn’t mention anything at all. He didn’t speak. At all. His brother and cousins did the talking. His name was Joel, apparently, his brother, Tommy, travelling with his newly wedded wife Maria. His cousins were Will and Benny. They’re the Millers. The men were former soldiers, fresh out from the war, which was how they got their lands. Will and Benny were both engaged, their fiancées already living in Jackson, which was the reason they decided to move there. Tommy and Joel tried their luck and managed to secure lands for themselves, so here they were too.

This was when you discovered Joel’s land would be your family’s next door neighbour. Great, you thought. Any hope of staying away from him was now lost.

A cry from Joel’s wagon got him off his stool. He climbed on and re-emerged with a baby in one hand, a bottle in the other. Maria got up and tried to help him, but he shook his head. He walked away from the group a little, cooing at the baby who was hungrily suckling from the bottle. His family watched him, eyeing each other, worried looks silently exchanged. The baby, a girl, was barely six months old, Maria told you.

You didn’t know why, but the knowledge that he had a baby with him made you a bit sad. Would the mother be joining him soon? Or perhaps she was already waiting in Jackson like his cousin’s fiancées? He wasn’t wearing a ring, but then again, a lot of men didn’t. Wedding rings were not exactly cheap these days.

After the baby fed, she began crying. Joel immediately seemed flustered, rocking the baby back and forth, clearly not used to the situation at hand. The Millers got up and tried to help him. But the baby was still crying, the group seemingly clueless on what to do. Joel was getting more and more visibly distressed.

You mother immediately got up and gently asked for the baby from him. She tried to soothe the baby, burping her, rocking her slightly, but she was still crying. She then passed the baby to you, telling the others that you had more experience with babies, having taken care of the children at the house you lived in since you were old enough to change a napkin.

You immediately checked the baby for whatever may be causing her discomfort. Her napkin, her clothing, her hat, her tummy, and finally, you ran your little finger in her mouth. Her crying eased slightly. She was teething. So, you ran your finger on her gums, gently massaging them, easing the pain slightly, and before long, she fell back asleep. Your mother suggested that she ride with you, so you could keep an eye on her, but Joel quickly said no, quietly thanking you for helping, before taking her back into his wagon.

**********

The wagon train consisted of ten wagons altogether. The lead and final wagons belonged to the agency the travelers had hired to map out the journey, providing food and safety throughout. Four single wagons belonged to the Millers, while the other four were family wagons, yours being one of them. The other three belonged to two different families, the middle aged couple with their three children, and their elderly parents, who had another wagon of their own, and a childless couple, probably newlyweds.

The journey was long and slow moving, but everyone got the hang of it after a while. After about ten days on the road, there were only seven wagons left, the other three had left, having arrived at their destination, two towns before Jackson. You, your mother and Maria had gotten along swimmingly, spending time together on the breaks. Joel still didn’t talk much, only mumbling a few words whenever necessary, preferring to spend time with his daughter, whose name, you found out, was Ellie. He asked you to help him out every now and again whenever he couldn’t soothe her, but other than that, he kept to himself.

The other Miller men were friendly, simply the opposite of Joel. Will was a bit quiet, but nowhere near as quiet as Joel. Benny was a chatterbox, basically a puppy with too much energy, and indulged your father in war talks and politics.

Despite Joel’s reserved mannerism, the group actually got along well together, which was probably a good thing, seeing as you would be neighbours when you arrived. With your father getting older by the day, you were glad the Miller men were around. They seemed helpful, all of them, even Joel, very willing to help whenever needed.

During one of the quick stream baths you, your mother and Maria shared, your mother asked her about Ellie’s mother. Turned out, Ellie was not Joel’s daughter. Her mother had been his sweetheart, who came from a troubled home. He had planned to marry her when he came home from the war. But when he didn’t come back as planned, her parents had forced her to marry someone else. He got her pregnant, and made her life a living hell, coming home drunk, stealing from her, beating her half dead. When she went back to her parents for help, they turned her away, unwilling to bear the shame of having their married daughter run away from her husband, not to mention the added cost of having her back plus baby. He ended up beating her to death just after Ellie was born, claiming that she died in a robbery.

Joel returned from war two months later to the news that not only was his sweetheart married, but she was also killed. He was at the bar, drinking his sorrows away when her useless husband walked in, drunkenly bragging about sleeping with so many women who pitied him for his wife’s demise. He proceeded to inform everyone of his poor wife’s final moments, admitting to killing her himself. He got so rowdy, so belligerent that he was fighting half the bar for telling him to shut up. Joel was so close to killing the man with his bare hands when the sheriff himself arrested the man for being too drunk, as well as for murdering his wife.

By the next morning, his body was sprawled in front of the sheriff office, shot in the back, having tried and failed to escape jail.

Ellie’s grandparents didn’t want to keep her and was sending her to the orphanage. Joel quickly decided to adopt her, not wanting her to live unloved, the way her mother was. She was officially his two days before the departure.

This bit of news made you feel like you knew him a bit better, the kind of man he was, despite his stiff demeanor. You and your mother vowed to help him as much as you could, knowing that the man would need all the help he could get.

Two days before the scheduled arrival in Jackson, the train stopped at a valley for the night. The day had been a particularly long one, and everyone was tired. Joel was nodding off as he fed Ellie, Maria quickly taking her away from him, asking him to rest so he would be alright for the journey the next day.

Dinner was quickly had and packed away, and before long, everyone was sound asleep, save for the two security men from the company, who stayed up to keep watch.

**********

You were startled awake by a sudden shake of the wagon, muffled shouting and scuffling surrounded it. It was slightly light out, as if the sun was beginning to peek its head. You sat up quickly, finding your parents already awake. Your father quickly took the gun he had kept hidden and your mother, a big metal rod she had always kept as a weapon behind the door. They signaled for you to be quiet, and you worriedly nodded.

The sounds of silent fighting quickly evolved to louder ones, people running around, and before long you could hear full on shouting, the Miller men’s voices among them. Your father told your mother to stay in the wagon with you as he quickly jumped out. You peeked through the gap in the canvas and saw Joel fighting a man off Tommy, who was on the ground. Your father shot the man, and Joel quickly picked up his own gun off the ground, and suddenly there was a lot of gunfire.

Your mother placed her hand on your back, Ellie, she whispered. If Joel was out here, who was protecting Ellie? You quickly wrapped a shawl around your body, and snuck out the front, hiding between wagons and shadows to get to his wagon.

A man took hold of you, and you screamed. There were so many men around, the men in your train outnumbered at least two to one. You struggled to get out of his hold, when suddenly you felt him drop. When you turned, your mother was standing behind him, having struck the heavy metal rod she was holding directly on his head. Go, she told you. You ran to Joel’s wagon and got in, Ellie nowhere to be seen. You ran back out, going to Tommy and Maria’s wagon, where you saw Maria hiding under the built in bench, Ellie in her arms. She immediately gave Ellie to you before climbing out herself. You wrapped Ellie in your shawl, tying it to your front before running out into the bushes to hide with her, your mother right behind you, telling you to get Ellie to safety.  

The gunshots and fighting and screaming slowly got quieter and quieter as you got further and higher, and finally, you found a spot where the rocks were high enough and far away enough to hide the four of you.

But when you and Maria settled, the two of you turned to see that your mother was no longer behind you. You began to panic and got back up to get her, but Maria pulled you down just as several gunshots sounded again, one of them hitting the rock you were hiding behind. Ellie began to cry, but you pressed her close to your chest, and thankfully, she seemed to get the message, the smart child. You and Maria peeked through the rocks, and saw some men go into her and Tommy’s wagon, feeling thankful that the two of you had decided to vacate it.

You saw Joel go in after the men, Tommy close on his heels, and came back out with the two men pulled out by their collars, before both were shot dead by Will and Benny. The four men looked around before being joined by the agency people, minus the two who had stood guard the night before.

It was now light enough to see. Joel shouted for Maria and you, and the two of you quickly stood up before carefully making your way back down to the valley. Joel and Tommy ran up to meet both of you, Tommy hugging his wife, relieved she was alright. You quickly untied your shawl off your body, and Joel immediately took Ellie off your hands, smothering her in kisses, holding her close to his chest, his face the definition of a worried father. He then asked you if you were alright, to which you nodded, and he helped you down, Ellie firmly held in one hand, your arm in the other.

Will, Benny and the four remaining men from the agency were checking the fallen men. Raiders, Joel told you, they were trying to rob the train. To say you were relieved the train held four former soldiers was an understatement.

Your thoughts were suddenly struck by something else. Where were your parents? You looked around, running to your wagon to see if they were there. They were not. Your turned to look elsewhere, when Benny appeared before you, a look on his face told you what you didn’t want to know. You violently shook your head, and ran in the direction he came from, only to find the rest of the men standing over two people, seated on the ground, your mother being one of them, held tightly in your father’s arms. Both had their eyes closed, their bodies still, too still to be asleep.

And that’s when you clocked your mother’s dress, soaked in red, and your father’s pajamas covered torso, blood richly seeping from it onto the ground.

The ground was shaking and still at the same time. The world fell silent. There was nothing left in it. All had emptied. Your vision was spinning. Your head light. You stomach churning. You heard someone say your name, and before you knew it, your world had turned dark.

PART 2

[starry-bi-sky]

Part uh, four? of "Clone Danny"

...taking a risk and @ing @minnesota-fats since they seemed pretty hyped about this au. So i figured they'd want to know when the next part came out.

So where did we leave off? Oh yes... Danny taking the stairs two at a time to book it away from Bruce Wayne before he realized that he and Danny shared the same face.

So safe to say after Danny calls Tucker and they both panic over Bruce's appearance, and he finds himself slinging on his black hoodie and stuffing his pockets with his mask and his jawbreaker gloves before scaling down his second-story window to book it over to Tucker's place.

(you never know when there might be a ghost attack)

It's of no surprise to him when Sam is already there when he arrives at Tucker's, and they all migrate to Tucker's room to come up with a plan of attack. Was Danny gonna tell Bruce Wayne that he was a clone? hell no! He decided to let the man live in ignorant bliss and he is sticking to that decision no matter what anyone says.

Besides, his parents can open that pandora's box, considering they created it.

So their plan of attack? Literally just "avoid Bruce Wayne like the plague until he leaves" which is... a bit difficult right now.

"you could stay at our place until he leaves?" Tucker says

"And what if he stays for a month?" Danny asks, overthinking as he's become prone to do. Ghosts are unpredictable after all. "I cant have a month-long sleepover at your place."

"You could wear a mask?" Sam suggests

and Danny makes a face, "What kid wears a face mask in their own house?"

"You could feign an illness."

...And so on and so forth. They discuss ideas for nearly an hour until Sam leaves and Danny needs to head out as well before his parents discover that he's gone. (he cant exactly tell them he snuck out his window)

(He crawls back through his window only to get the daylights scared out of him by Jazz, sitting on his bed and wanting to talk to him about Bruce Wayne being, apparently, in their living room. Danny kicks her out instead because he already talked about it with Sam and Tucker and doesn't want to talk about it again for tonight)

Skip to later that night when he gets woken up by his ghost sense triggering. He wakes up with a chill and mist breathing out of his mouth, tasting like what freshly fallen snow smells like and ozone. It makes his teeth chatter.

Danny doesn't bother checking the time, and grabs his mask from under his pillow and his knucklebuster gloves. he all but sleeps in his hoodie and padding so all he does left is his boots and vest and thermos.

(He grabs his bat on the way out, and keeps his mask in his pocket until he steps outside)

when he sneaks into the kitchen, halfway through pulling his hair into a ponytail, light draws his eyes and there, up at who-knows-o'clock, is Bruce Wayne on his laptop. In their living room. He looks up at the same time as Danny.

Danny makes direct eye contact with him. Again. But there's no door to slam in his face....and behind Bruce Wayne, standing ominously at the window outside, is fucking Skulker. of course it is.

"...Mister Wayne." He says after a considerable silence where he's not sure if he's staring at Skulker or at Bruce. Skulker just stands. Menacingly. Like he crawled straight out of a horror movie.

Danny's not sure if Wayne's seen him or not.

(Bruce has, indeed, seen him in the reflection of his laptop. And considered investigating the problem just before Danny appeared.)

"...Mister Fenton." Wayne says moments after, sounding pretty calm and uncurious about what he's doing up. "What are you doing up?"

…Nevermind.

"Go…ing on a midnight stroll?" Danny says, he's a terrible liar but people never seem to assume he's off kicking ghost butt.

"With a bat?"

(Note: this is the only time Danny curses the fact that the Fenton Creepstick is painted with glow-in-the-dark-ectoplasm-infused paint. It's saved his butt numerous times in both finding it and smashing it into ghosts' faces. But now its just a hindrance.)

"...We have a ghost problem." Danny says, feeling like he came straight out of a sitcom. "What are you doing up?" Skulker looks like he's getting impatient behind the anti-ghost glass. Danny promptly ignores him.

"Just doing some Wayne Industries work." Bruce says.

And Danny nods thoughtfully. "Cool. Cool... Bye." And he turns and books it out the door.

He just barely has enough time to make it to the street and put on his mask before Skulker damn near takes his head off with his usual proclamation of skinning him. Danny, pointedly, sarcastically signs back his retort until he can get further away from the house.

\\\\\

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

[mer-acle]

Sup, I’m in ur inbox again 🥳 because the idea of how Zeus would have gotten Apollo to like- not help Athena was intriguing to me I ended up writing like- a tiny lil thing with Bad Parent Zeus at his absolute finest

The first two people to rush towards Athena after she passed out were Ares and Apollo, but as soon as they were close Zeus held out a hand, glaring at his two sons, “Away, both of you.”

“Father-” Ares started

“I said, away, Ares.”

The war god bit his tongue. He knew he wasn’t anywhere near his father’s favorite and after what he’d just done to Athena he wasn’t going to deny being scared of angering the king of gods, but Apollo on the other hand seemed to not hold any fear at the time. His concern for Athena’s life pushing that away, “Father, Athena needs help we can’t possibly just leave her there!” Apollo protested, looking at his father with pleading eyes. He didn’t have the best relationship with Zeus either, the sky god preferring his twin sister over him more often than not, but this wasn’t about how much Zeus cared for him. It was about how much Zeus cared for Athena. Which may not be as much as everyone thought.

Ares distantly thought, foolish Apollo, father hates being tested, especially when he’s in a bad mood.

True to his personality Zeus violently grasped the archery god by the wrist, holding him up off the ground and glaring, “Do not tell me what I can and cannot do Apollo.”

“But-”

Lightning crackled in Zeus’ other hand which was now raised above Apollo, “But?” He challenged, daring the younger, terrified god to speak

Apollo didn’t say anything.

Ares didn’t say anything.

Nobody else said anything. Except Zeus, who yanked Apollo closer to him and growled in his ear, “You are forbidden from aiding her. She dug this grave by herself and she will lay in it”

Apollo could barely nod in response.

“Am I understood, Phoebus Apollo?”

“Yes- Y-Yes father.”

Zeus threw his son to the ground before addressing the rest of the gods present, “all of you begone! Go about your days!”

All the other gods began to migrate out of the arena, going back to whatever they were doing before. Ares helped Apollo up from the ground and walked with him until they found Artemis and the two twins went off elsewhere leaving Ares to spare one more glance at Zeus standing over Athena’s broken body before he left to go find Aphrodite.

Zeus decided he would go tell Hermes to free that mortal man after getting Athena to her room. The thunder god felt no guilt as he picked up his eldest daughter’s body, her golden blood staining his hands and clothing. She was burning hot to the touch and the gruesome scars from the lightning bolts almost ran down to the bone, but still, he was guiltless for it all. Athena had brought her suffering upon herself with her own insolence. She deserved this. And it was not as if Zeus wasn’t still completing his end of the deal, her mortal would go free and be given a final chance to return home. He had done nothing wrong, he never did anything wrong.

Does this make sense? Absolutely NOT was it fun making Zeus a bad father as per usual? YES 😼

Hi Vicky :)

She dug this grave herself and she will lie in it

Girl! 😭 /Pos

I love Apollo being so in his domain that he's not even afraid initially

Now I kinda imagine Zeus carrying Athena and she wakes up still in his arms... no matter how she reacts it would be HEARTBREAKING (is this a request... I mean if you want to it totally is lol)

Also getting fanfic based on fanfic I've written is the most surreal experience I swear 😭 thank youuu

I love this sm

[hannahssimblr]

With cleaned plates and full bellies, we sit, weakly protesting as Gitte carries out the dessert, bowls of rice pudding that looks good enough to risk its consequences.

Felix has migrated onto my lap following a tour of the table, curious, and insistent on being closer to the action. From Pernille to Gitte, a brief, tearful sojourn with Astrid, to Mia, and now me. “Oh look, he wants to say hello,” they cooed as he extended his chubby arms outward, fingers clutching in my direction. They took a picture of us, then. The boys.

He holds the collar of my t-shirt as I struggle to eat with one hand. “Pernille, can he have some of this?”

“Yes, a little, because it is Christmas,” she says. I borrow his plastic spoon and take a little from the top, carefully feeding it to him, then laughing at his screwed up expression, shock and confusion at the cherry sauce.

Astrid makes a comment about the drool on his spoon while I dig in afterwards with my own utensils, but I don’t mind. On the point of saying I have had much worse things in my mouth, I decide against it in case someone asks for an exhaustive list. 

During dessert, I am, for a moment, aware of myself. Me, here, with a table of women. One might joke that I’m in my element, but I feel it. There is affection here, respect, joy. I cheer with the others, and pretend to understand what is happening when Gitte finds a whole almond in her dessert. Another tradition no one has explained to me. Clapping along as a little gift is produced for her to open. A candle. An almond worthy of a candle. Okay. I will ask later.

There's a feeling in me. What is it? Guilt. Yes. I am struck with guilt, imagining the misery of Christmas in Dublin. Ivy, being as quiet as a mouse at our grandmother's table, trying to avoid attention during mad rants about politicians, our grandmother managing, incredibly, to become even more dour and unpleasant with each passing year.

I am grateful it is different this year. That Christmas can be a holiday, for once, that does not leave me anxious for a week on either side of it.

Later, as we gather around the Christmas tree, Mia and Pernille light candles upright upon the branches, joking morbidly about the whole thing bursting into flames. 

“It has never happened, don’t worry,” Pernille assures me, quickly righting a tipping candle before it catches the tinsel. 

We exchange gifts, one by one, delighted, laughing, and some for Felix too, just for the sake of it, though he doesn’t understand what is happening. A hat pulled onto his head. Bath books leafed through. Teddy bears given voices with which to speak to him while he stares, stricken, eventually bursting into tears with overwhelm.

“A scarf,” Gitte says, when I pull my gift free of its wrapping. “I knitted it for you.”

I am unexpectedly touched. Moments spent, then, just holding it in my hands and looking at it, thinking of this woman I have never met before, knitting this for me, stitch by stitch. Of me being worth the time to do it. “Oh, really? Gitte, I love it. Thank you so much.”

“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it. It won’t offend me.”

“I’d probably frame it and hang it on my wall, actually. That’s how nice I think it is,” I say, and they all laugh, though I’m serious. 

The Larsen’s gifts are a collection of small, thoughtful things. Astrid has made little mugs and bowls in her ceramics studio. From Mia, books. Pernille, organic hand creams, cosmetics she knows are good for sensitive skin. I know my gifts from my parents will await me in the mailbox in Berlin. The new iPhone, maybe a laptop. A wallet with embossed with the word BOSS, or something, so gaudy I’ll leave it in the drawer of my desk, joining that Tom Ford cologne that smells the same as window cleaner, and the clippers they already got for my birthday last year, with one new attachment this time.

The flashiness of my gift for Astrid dawns slowly upon me as I watch the Larsens bond lovingly. I will have to stand up, get it, present it to her after everyone has exchanged their thoughtful tokens. All “This made me think of you. I knew this would suit your colouring. Do you remember you mentioned this before? I noticed you ran out of this…” She likes it though, the fashionable gifts. She knows she’s worth it. Doesn’t she? I was so sure the gift was right until now. I go to the tree and take the little bag from underneath. 

“Here,” I say. “I just saw them and…” I trail off lamely. They were in the November edition of Vogue I scoured once while she showered, searching for whatever was on trend these days. Something girls wanted. Something now blatantly inappropriate and generic.

From the bag, she pulls a pale pink box the size of her palm. 

“An engagement ring,” Mia says in a flat voice, lounging beside her on the sofa. 

Heat rises from my collar. “It’s obviously… it’s not that.”

“Oh, good. Lucky for you.”

Astrid ignores her and undoes the thin ribbon, lifting the lid to reveal the earrings. 

I rush to explain. Self conscious now, and overcome by the need to tack on some element of personal significance. “Apparently they’re in,” I manage. “The… uh. I think they’re freshwater pearls or something?” Why did I phrase it like a question? Stupid. And why am I flustered, as though I haven’t bought her similar gifts in the past, which she seemed delighted with? I’m thrown off kilter at the thoughtfulness of the other gifts. A scenario I honestly had not visualised, and I’m struck by a terrifying new thought, that all the times Astrid said she liked my gifts, she was lying to me. 

“I love them, they’re beautiful,” she says, her face lighting up. A smile. Good. She wouldn’t smile unless she really meant it. She tucks pieces of hair behind her ears and puts them in, showing them off. “Yes, pretty,” her family says. “Very classy.”

Beneath her on the floor, I lift my hand to her leg. An emasculating type of gesture, feeling like a medieval peasant boy. “You like them, really?”

“Yes, I do. I swear.”

Somebody says something to her, and she looks away, distracted, then, reaching for another gift. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[lynnuvo]

Sister from Another Mister

Characters: Platonic Jinx & Non-biological Sister (Y/N) In celebration of Arcane Season 2 rumored to arrive November 2024, how about a couple headcannons for if Jinx became a big sister? :>

About a year or two after she was adopted by Silco, the two ran into you sitting alone in an alley in Zaun with your ragged clothes and barefoot.

You were clearly younger than Jinx, making it all the more shocking that your parents had abandoned you in exchange for more financial success. In their case, they considered what they were supposed to protect no matter what a burden.

Jinx was saddened at the sight. It reminded her of the last time she saw Vi. But Silco? This treatment wasn't rare to find in the Underground.

At this point in their relationship, Jinx was comfortable enough to beg Silco to take you in as well. The man did NOT want to. One child was already enough.

With nowhere else to go, you followed Jinx (she encouraged you) up until they got close to their lair. Silco put his foot down, and you were left alone once again.

For at least two weeks, you ventured around the neighborhood for necessities. But you always ended your night in the same spot Jinx and Silco left you: in an alley close to their lair.

Jinx started sneaking you food and water, but you two were caught pretty quickly. Fed up with her determination, he finally let Jinx take you in as long as she taught you how to keep your mouth shut.

As rough as your first meeting went, Silco eventually warms up to having another daughter, though he's more distant with you compared to Jinx. You'd sometimes get jealous when pondering about the favorite child, but Jinx always reassured that you were her favorite sister.

You're one of the rare things--erm, people--that is able to effectively help stabilize Jinx during her episodes. Even then, Jinx is still dangerous. You've received the brunt of her outgoing damage before (on accident, of course), so you try to talk her through it before getting close.

Unfortunately, part of being in this family comes with the risk of your mental health getting worse and better and worse and better and worse again and--

While Jinx has load of offense armory, you migrated to the role of a defense & support player. Small medkits, a pop-up shield, and daggers are just some parts of your combat outfit.

Jinx protects you with her life quite literally. She could be in the middle of a battle, but one glance at an enemy overpowering you is enough to bring out an animalistic urge to kill.

LOVES to ruffle your hair, pinch your cheeks, kicks your butt as a joke only for you to fight her back, drag you around, lots of platonic physical affection

When younger, you both open up about your past lives before Silco. But as time passed, it was harder to have such conversations with Jinx as her mental health took even more of a toll. It got to a point where you begin hiding as many reminders of her past life as possible, though that was difficult when so much of it built Jinx into who she was now.

When she finally meets Vi again, she brags about you to her face and shoves you two's relationship in Vi's face once you arrive in-person. A part of you is touched. A part of you feels disgust for jealous scheme. Neither of you can deny that Vi's heart is caught off-guard, however.

Although you do wish for some revenge for what Vi did to Jinx, the situation gets worse as life goes on. You hear about attacks left and right, about the innovative acts Piltover's new prodigy has to fight against Zaun, about Silco losing control of his daughters (specifically, of course, Jinx). You just want a happy family.

Talking to Jinx about relaxing gets you nowhere. If anything, she's more determined to prove she can do something great. She begs you to help her.

"It's not just for me. It's for US. For the people who left us behind. For the whole underground!"

You give in, only to keep Jinx safe. She keeps you close, but you're careful--wary. You're the water to a firecracker, but she's the power of a thousand firecrackers in one.

[angellesword]

It's Not Living (If It's Not With You) | JJK (PART 2)

At thirty-two, you thought you had your life figured out. That is until you received a call one day:

"You need to go to Gangwon Police Station now. There are two people here: One thirty-something male claiming to be your husband, and the other is a three-year-old girl claiming to be your daughter. They say they won't leave unless you, the mom of the family, pick them up."

Or alternatively,

a series of events where you fall in love with Jungkook, become a mom, solve your dead best friend's case, and wriggle out of old money's grasp, but not necessarily in this order. (Maybe all at once. Who knows?)

Genre and warnings: enemies to lovers, idiots in love, mutual pining, OMG there is only one bed, forced proximity, cohabitating, enemies to friends to lovers, co-parenting, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, car accidents, law, this fic is originally written as an AOT au, but i've changed it to a JJK one, so please pardon any Japanese terms mentioned (they're not too relevant anyway) some of the characters are from aot too. i'm too lazy to change them haha

Pairing: Police Lieutenant! Jungkook x Lawyer!!Reader

PART 1 HERE

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

You thought kissing Jungkook felt like coming home. Unfortunately, you never had one.If you did, it was only temporary, and the house was not yours.

You were just leasing it.

After the trip, you and Jungkook did not dare talk about what happened in the mountain. You ignored his attempt at a dialogue and made an excuse that you were busy with work.

Younger Jungkook would have exploded, but he was from that or even from the Jungkook you knew last month. He grew to be more understanding and less provoking.

Admittedly, he felt guilty for kissing you. Because as much as he painfullycraved it, he couldn't say the same thing for you.

If you liked it, then why were you hiding from him? Why were you going back and forth to Busan and Seoul these days?

Why were you...leaving him again?

"Where are you going?" Jungkook's eyes twitched when he saw you carrying a big bag. It had been two weeks since the family trip ended. He knew it was unfair of him to demand you move onif you truly hated it, but seeing you go as far as leaving him and Hanni behind made him feel dejected.

"Just out." You replied curtly, not bothering to look at him while you put on your sneakers. Jungkook's first instinct was to go near you and help you tie your shoelace. You were already this old, yet you still couldn't wear your shoes properly.

"Will you be back soon?" Jungkook stayed rooted in his spot; his puppy eyes went unnoticed by you.

"Not sure yet. You'll pick up Hanni from the daycare, right? Then, I'll leave everything to you. Bye." You were out of the door before Jungkook could reply to you. You did not lie to him this time. You were unsure as to what time you'd be back.

You were going to the Jeon's residence today. Jungkook's mother had been cajoling you to visit her. She said it would be better if you went alone since bringing Jungkook with you would just ruin her mood. Jungkook never gave his mother a breather. He always dissuaded her from eating the food she liked and moving around the house a lot. He said she should sit prettily on the couch and not worry about anything. How was that even possible? Jungkook's mother disliked being idle, so she told you to bring a big bag as she intended to pick some produce with you in her garden.

The drive to Jeon's residence took fifteen minutes. You deliberated going to your family's house first, but you remembered no one lived there anymore. Your parents had long since migrated abroad.

Besides, you'd rather deal with a bubbly lady than your easily irritated mother. Mrs. Jeon welcomed you happily.

"Daughter-in-law!" The old woman excitedly raised her arms to embrace you. You flashed a smile at Mrs. Jeon, crouching down so you could hug her.

Mrs. Jeon was in a wheelchair. She had a hard time walking after her leg surgery years ago. This was why Jungkook still lived with his mother despite being in his early thirties. He was simply being a filial son. He didn't trust his father to be responsible enough to care for his sickly mother.

But things changed when Sora died. Mrs. Jeon convinced Jungkook to move in with you. She said she could handle herself and even agreed to have a caregiver look after her. Mrs. Jeon liked you since you were a child. She said you were the only one who could keep Jungkook grounded.You never really understood what she meant by this. You didn't ask, either. One of the perks of this was that you and Jungkook didn't have a hard time explaining your fake romantic engagement to her. Mrs. Jeon had been calling you daughter-in-lawas long as you could remember. For her, what you and Jungkook had was real. She wouldn't believe otherwise.

"Hi, mum." You humored the old lady. Her smile stretched when you called her mother. She peppered your cheeks with kisses.

"Perfect timing! Frieda and Kiyomi just left. The soup I made is still hot. Come, I'll ladle some for you." Mrs. Jeon pushed the wheelchair herself. You quickly caught up to her and helped.

"The social workers have visited you already?" You were shocked. Frieda called you to ask for Mrs. Jeon's phone number. She said she and Kiyomi would visit Jungkook's mother next week. Admittedly, this was why you went to the Jeon residence today. You wanted to brief Mrs. Jeon on what she could and could not say to the social workers. You never thought Frieda would not keep her word. Damn it.

"Yes. They're such lovely people. Don't worry, my girl. I'm very obedient. I didn't say anything bad against you and my son. I love my granddaughter, too. I want her to be happy." Sora and Mrs. Jeon were close to each other—probably because of their love for food. Mrs. Jeon often visited the Kang restaurant. She particularly loved seafood, so Jungkook often had to plead with Niccolo not to serve lobsters to his mom.

"As expected of my mother-in-law." You beamed, "Can you tell me what happened during their visit?"

Mrs. Jeon happily indulged you while you drank soup and ate other dishes. You were having a taste test to know what Jungkook and Hanni would like.

"How are you and my son, by the way? When is the wedding?" Mrs. Jeon looked at you fondly; guilt shot at your heart.

It was difficult to lie to her. How were you supposed to say that you were actively avoiding Jungkook? That looking at her son made you so anxious you wanted to vomit? Were you supposed to say you were scared of fucking things up that you'd rather act coldly to Jungkook? That you'd rather ruin something that hadn't even started?

The past two weeks had been nothing but torture for Jungkook. You snapped at him every time you two crossed paths.

It was as if you were back to your old self, crawling back to your hard shell and painting your walls blue.

Jungkook was frustrated, but all he could do was swallow his pride because this was his fault.He thought he ignored your boundaries just cause he felt the moment was right, so all he could do now was look at you pathetically like a damn dog gaining back its master's favor.

The day after the trip was the worst. You did not go home for two days, granted that it was for a business trip, but you were being too dodgy. You wouldn't talk to Jungkook and only say a few things if Hanni was on the other line.

Jungkook tried snatching the phone from Hanni. However, you instantly ended the call when his face resurfaced on the phone screen.

When you cooked food for them, you only cooked vegetables. There were barely any sweets, and it's making Hanni agitated. Jungkook couldn't do anything but swallow a spoonful of goya champuru. Blegh! Too bitter!

The weekend was Jungkook's breaking point. Hanni was out with her Uncle Taehyung for two days. The social workers didn't restrict who the kid could spend her weekends with. Besides, Taehyung was trustworthy. Jungkook's heart was at ease knowing that Taehyung was dating Jimin Park. Hanni was in good hands for the weekend.

All Jungkook had to worry about was you. Saturday morning was the first red flag. Jungkook spotted a bouquet of roses on the doorstep.

He immediately assumed it was the same person who gave you those damn baby breaths. Worse? You displayed it on the center table!

Jungkook sulked so badly you could practically taste his bitterness in your mouth. His daisies were ignored! Jungkook did not dare replace the roses with daisies because of how piercing your glare was.

On that same Saturday night, Jungkook felt like crying. You were wearing a sparkly black dress that made your skin pop. You had your red lips on. He almost had a mental breakdown looking at your lips.

He couldn't help but ask where you were going.

"Date." You replied impassively.

It was over for Jungkook. You were probably going out with the person who gave you the roses!

Jungkook waited for you to go home that Saturday night, but you did not. The bags under his eyes were dark and heavy—you almost flinched when you saw him on Sunday. Jungkook was so embarrassed and pissed that he didn't go out the whole day.

In the following days, Jungkook observed that you were always on your phone. He instantly assumed you were giggling while texting with your date.

Perhaps you're meeting with him now? Would you go to Seoul? Was that the reason you had your big bag?

In reality, your big bag was now full of food. Mrs. Jeon made a week's worth of food for you, Jungkook, and Hanni. You two hadn't even gone to the garden yet. You guessed she was over the moon after you told her you and Jungkook were doing better.

It was a white lie, alright? You couldn't bear breaking this old woman's heart.

"This is everything I cooked. Now, come. Let's go to my garden and get you some vegetables. Hanni loves mashed potatoes. I happen to have a lot of potatoes today." Mrs. Jeon wheeled her wheelchair to the garden.

You followed her with a huge smile on your face. Who would have thought food could make you this happy?

Or maybe the thought of cooking for your loved ones was what made you happy.

"Forgive your useless mother-in-law." Mrs. Jeon was apologetic as she watched you pick vegetables all by yourself. She couldn't crouch down as it would only hurt her leg. The old woman sounded solemn. At this point of your life, you understood that you didn't always have to speak up or refute someone's statement—even when they're being pessimistic about themselves. Sometimes, they were only ranting for the sake of it.They just needed someone to listento them because it was not like they didn't know their situation. They were the ones who had problems.You couldn't always offer them solutions because, almost 100% of the time, they had most likely thought of what you thought.

Truth be told, Mrs. Jeon sighed at your silence and felt more at ease to voice out her feelings, "I've been a burden to my husband and my Jungkook-boy since my leg has become useless. Sometimes, I wish the heavens would have mercy and just take me away."

This was something you couldn't tolerate. You stopped picking vegetables to grab Mrs. Jeon's hand. Your grip was tight.

"It's just hard, you know?" Mrs. Jeon gripped your hand, too. She lovingly stroked your fingers like Jungkook did when you couldn't sleep. "I'm the mother of our family, but I've become like a child. I find it hard to bathe myself; I can't control my food, and my leg always hurts. Jungkook couldn't find a wife because he feels the need to take care of me."

You couldn't speak about Mrs. Jeon's pain, but you could talk about the truth about Jungkook. You stared at the old lady and said, "I don't think Jungkook minds. He loves you a lot."

He really did. Jungkook would rather swallow the embarrassment of being called a mama's boyif it meant his mother was happy and healthy. Mrs. Jeon knew this as well. Tears welled up in her eyes. She sobbed imperceptibly.

"He does, doesn't he? My Jungkook is such a good boy. I was so scared when the doctors told me I needed to get surgery. They said it will leave a big scar."

Mrs. Jeon was wearing a long, thick dress since her leg was sensitive to the cold, but she held the hem of her dress as if she wanted to raise it and show you something.

"I cried for days. Jungkook-boy comforted me, but I was inconsolable. My leg will be a reminder of my hardship. I don't want that."

Don't we all? The voice inside your head answered. You had scars, too. It was just that yours was not visible to the eyes—your heart was scarred and battered. People might laugh if you told them your greatest heartbreak was law school, as it would appear insignificant compared to life-threatening problems, but that's the thing. Your pain only seemed irrelevant because they were comparingit to something else.No one saw you shedding tears and losing sleep and dignity whenever your professors threw hurtful words to crush your confidence.

"My surgery went well, but the pain I felt did not get any better. I hated looking at my scars. Until one day..." Mrs. Jeon was hit with a wave of memories. The corner of her mouth twitched. She raised the hem of her dress.

Your breathing hitched as you saw her leg. It was covered with colorful stars. They were tattooed on her skin perfectly.

"It's pretty," your eyes glistened with amazement. You asked Mrs. Jeon if you could trace the stars with your fingers. She happily agreed.

"It was Jungkook's idea. That boy is really thoughtful." Mrs. Jeon saw that Jungkook was affected by her pain. Jungkook was so down he could barely think, but one day, Jungkook went home with a smile on his face. He was humming an unfamiliar song. Mrs. Jeon asked what got him vibrating with excitement.

“Someone sang a song for me. “Jungkook creased his eyes and crouched down. Without any more words, he exposed his newly tattooed skin to his mother.

"Jungkook-boy got a tattoo to convince me to get one myself. It's to show me it's not painful. It’s pretty; now I can look at my leg without crying."

Oh.

Your mind blanked for a moment. You tried to imagine Jungkook and where he could have gotten his tattoo. He was a police officer. He couldn't have had it tattooed somewhere visible to everyone.

Maybe he had one on his leg, too?

No. You had seen him wear shorts before. Perhaps he had it tattooed on his back?

You couldn't stop obsessing about Jungkook's tattoo as you and Mrs. Jeon roamed around her garden. Your second bag was almost full of produce. You told Mrs. Jeon you'd gotten enough for the month.

"That's good. Let's just roam around for a bit, okay? Fresh air is good."

You gave into the old woman's wish. Their garden was big. Your mouth went agape with how pretty the flowers were.

"Did you plant these yourself?" You plucked a small flora and placed it behind Mrs. Jeon's ear. She giggled.

"Yes, although Jungkook maintains them for me. He's a flower enthusiast himself. I'm convinced it's the flowers that he can't leave, not me." She chuckled, "Come, I'll show you his beloved flowers."

You walked for a few more meters before coming face to face with Jungkook's mini flower plantation.

"What do you think? Beautiful, isn't it?" Mrs. Jeon asked.

It took you a long time to respond. Your mouth had gone dry, and you felt like a lump was stuck in your throat. As a lawyer, nothing really surprised you anymore. You had dealt with pathological liars, brutal killers, and more.

But the thing before you shocked you to the core. Shivers ran through your spine while looking at Jungkook's flowers.

Daisies.

Jungkook had a daisy plantation. They're different colors, looking suspiciously like the ones he displayed on Sora's home daily.

Your legs weakened. You had to hold onto the wheelchair bar so you wouldn't fall. Suddenly, the past two weeks felt like a bad joke to you.

Your heart constricted, feeling your stomach drop, too.

"Sweetheart, are you okay? Your face is pale." Jungkook's mom told you to crouch down so she could see your face properly. She saw the light trembling of your lips and your reddish eyes.

Mrs. Jeon felt like she was looking at your younger self. This was the same expression you wore when Jungkook told his parents and your parents that you had kicked him. This was the face you made when you felt you had fucked up.

"You can tell me what's bothering you." Her gentle voice made you want to cry. Looking at Jungkook's mother hit close to home. You had not thrown a tantrum in years, but as you faced this old woman, you thought it wouldn't be so bad if you screamed and kicked your feet out of frustration.

The frustration you felt for yourself as you continuously fuck everything up.

"Mum, what should I do?" You whispered like a lost lamb. Mrs. Jeon caressed your cheeks before holding your head to her lap.

"It's alright," she assured you. "You're allowed not to do anything. Come, let's get you something to eat first. There's nothing food can't solve."

You couldn't eat, though. You were just going to puke it since your stomach was still turning. And so the old woman diverted your mind to crocheting and playing music. When the sun had set, Mrs. Jeon insisted on feeding you again, but you told her you wanted to cook for your family, which seemed to do the trick.

Truthfully, Mrs. Jeon felt guilty feeding you a bunch of stuff while her son and grandchild were probably eating garbage.

"Alright, alright. I'll let you go now." Mrs. Jeon shooed you away after putting more food in your bag. "Drive safely. I'll see you soon, my pretty daughter-in-law!"

You hopped into your car and drove away. You had never been this excited to come back home.

***

The drive back to the Kang' residence felt like an eternity. You were itching to see Jungkook so much that you almost ran inside.

"Hi?" Jungkook was startled to see your panting face. He was having dinner alone when you suddenly emerged in the dining room.

"H-Hi." You greeted back; your breathing was still ragged.

Jungkook noticed the two big bags in your hands, his eyes dilating. He immediately waltzed to your direction and helped you carry them.

"Oh, damn. It's heavy. What the hell is all this?" Jungkook struggled to place the bags on the countertop. How did you manage to carry them all the way here?

Adrenaline.

Your mind had tricked you that you were in danger—like you were going to have a heart attack if you didn't see Jungkook now.

"They're from your mother." You ran out of lies, and frankly, you were tired of them.

"Oh?" Jungkook stood frozen for a second before inspecting the bags. He saw the familiar dishes his mother usually cooked.

All at once, Jungkook's heavy heart felt light. The stones had been lifted.

You were out all day visiting his beloved mother?

"She didn't want me to tell you. But don't worry," you waved your hand in dismissal, "We didn't eat lobster. She's fine."

Jungkook watched you suspiciously, but then your treacherous stomach suddenly growled. Instantly, Jungkook's lips curved into a smirk.

"You didn't eat lobster. Did you even eat at all?"

"Oh, shut up." You rolled your eyes on him.

It was good how you and Jungkook could immediately fall back to your old selves. You guessed Jungkook had long since touched your soul that fighting and making up didn't amount to much.

"Where's Hanni? Why are you eating alone?"

"Oh. She ate earlier. She's sleeping now. You know that kid well. She said she'll have more energy for her playdate with the Lee kids tomorrow if she sleeps now." Jungkook went back to the table. He was doing okay but suddenly became agitated as he opened a plastic bag of takeout food.

"I didn't know you were coming home tonight, so I only bought this for you." Jungkook brought out one oyster pail from the plastic.

The savory smell of your favorite Chinese food wafted in the room. Your stomach growled louder.

This time, you didn't shy away from the sound. Your mind was elsewhere—something more important:

Jungkook thought you weren't coming home, yet he still brought your favorite food.

The realization felt like a slap in the face. You almost lost your balance because of the impact of his actions.

This man was really...

"I'm sorry I didn't buy an extra portion of dumplings." Jungkook scratched the back of his neck, misunderstanding your silence. He honestly thought you were back to being mad because of dumplings.

Pain shot at your heart. Just how cruel were you to him these past two weeks that he thought he wasn't doing enough?

"It's okay. Thank you-u." You stuttered while trying to hide the pain in your voice. Jungkook watched as you sat on the chair, broke the chopsticks into two, and wordlessly ate your food.

Jungkook couldn't see your eyes as you ate with your head down. He sighed, and after watching you for a few more seconds, he sat down and ate with you.

The silence was deafening but not unwelcome. You needed this peace before the storm. 

The drizzling started after finishing your food. Jungkook offered to wash the dishes. You did not fight him and simply nodded.

Jungkook thought you'd return to your room since you no longer have a business here. However, he was surprised when not only did you stay—you also stayed close to him.

"Uh..." Jungkook glanced at you from the side. The silence earlier was not awkward, but this one was.

"Why?" You leaned on the countertop and folded your arms across your chest. You stared at him lazily, "Go on. Wash the dishes."

Jungkook was in a dilemma here. You see, he didn't want to wash the dishes while you were around. Or rather, he didn't want you to see him put on the washing gloves.

"What's wrong?" You furrowed your brow when Jungkook didn't move.

"Don't tell me you don't want to work in front of your empress?"

Jungkook still did not move. His lips were glued together.

The drizzling turned into light rain.

"Fine then." You shrugged nonchalantly. Jungkook breathed out, thinking you had given up. But lawyers like you did not know how to give up.

You pushed through. You thrivedto get what you wanted.

You grabbed Jungkook's right hand. He wasn't expecting your action, so you saw how his hand balled into a fist. He didn't flinch, though—never. 

Never from you.

As usual, Jungkook was wearing his silver Versace watch. You weren't sure why it took you long to notice something about him, but now that you did, you couldn't stop obsessing about it:

Jungkook was wearing his wristwatch on his right hand despite his left hand being his non-dominant one.

It perfectly complemented his silver engagement ring, but this practice was still out of the ordinary for many.

The light rain turned moderate.

You were still grasping Jungkook's hand. You stared at it with your blazing gaze. Jungkook saw how hard you bit your lip—like looking at his hand was a complex puzzle you couldn't solve.

The staring lasted a few minutes before you caressed his hand with both your hands. Jungkook's heart was in his throat. He could only watch helplessly as you removed his wristwatch.

The action only lasted seconds but felt like an eternity for Jungkook. It was tortureto have your soft hand kneading his wrist.

His wrist was tattooed.

So your hunch was correct, huh?

Jungkook really did have his wrist tattooed. You surveyed the design with a dry mouth, a hammering chest, and blurry eyes.

Jungkook had a bracelet tattoo—the bracelet was made with flowers.

But it wasn't just flowers—they were aquamarine daisies.

"Nice tattoo," you whispered as you traced your fingers on it.

You could hear Jungkook's shallow breathing when he hummed in response, "Yeah. It's dedicated to my empress. Her Majesty's born in March."

March was your birth month. The assigned birthstone for this month was aquamarine.

"Your empress didn't know she has such a dedicated subject." Your eyelashes fluttered, tilting your head to the side to expose your neck.

Jungkook gazed salaciously at your exposed skin. He suddenly thought if he were to be a vampire, it wouldn’t be too bad...

"I don't dare tell her. I don't think Her Majesty likes me very much." It took me a long time to figure out my feelings, too. But I didn’t want to run away from her—I didn’t want to run away from you.

Jungkook’s unspoken thoughts remained unspoken, though. He feared he’d scared you again. You two were barely talking. Jungkook didn’t know if tonight was a miracle because it sure felt like it was. Seeing you here was already enough. 

“Her Majesty can be a little dense, huh?” You dropped his wrist, but your hand made its way to cupped his jaw. Jungkook was a big man, but he purred.Like a cat, he couldn’t help but nuzzle his face to your hand.

“Nah, I’m just too presumptuous. How could a mere servant dare kiss Her Majesty?” Jungkook’s voice was solemn. This was his way of subtly apologizing for his actions. He couldn’t apologize to you directly as it might ruin your mood.

 But you were done pretending. You didn’t want subtlety anymore. What you realized at the Jeon’s garden shook your heart. You felt like you were deprived of oxygen after chain-smoking for so long.

It might be too late, but you wanted to quit. You wanted to give your lungs air that went by the name Jungkook,so you did just that.

The moderate rain turned into a thunderstorm. 

You did not care about the lightning and thunder. All you could think about was the feeling of Jungkook’s lips against yours.

They are soft—was your first thought. But it’s not enough.You wanted more of him.

You grabbed Jungkook’s face and kissed him harder. It took him a few seconds to respond, thinking he was in a fever dream.

But this was real.

Jungkook moaned as his hands roamed around your body. He touched your hips. You were real. 

He caressed your waist—you were real.

He stroked your hair—you were real.

He pushed his tongue inside your slightly parted lips—you were fucking real.

“For reference…” You broke the kiss for a while. Jungkook grumbled in annoyance. He tried to run after your lips while his eyes were tightly shut.

You laughed heartily but backed away. Jungkook gave up and just buried his face on your neck. He sucked bruises into it. God, you were so sweet and warm.

“I just taught you how to kiss me. You can’t just peck on my lips—”

“You want to be devoured. I get it.” Jungkook was impatient. He kissed you again.

He kissed and touched you until your lips had gone numb—until the thunderstorm stopped and the rainbow and sun resurfaced again.

***

The aftermath of the kiss wasn't tragic like the first one because Jungkook had learned his lesson.

"Seriously?" You looked at Jungkook in disbelief as you wriggled out of his grasp. Sadly, he didn't let you go and only tightened his hold on you like a koala bear.

"Tsk. Who knew you'd be this clingy?" In the end, you had no choice but to give up struggling. Jungkook had made up his mind. He would cling to you all night lest you run away again.

Kissing you was like a dangerous drug for him. It left him craving more.Admittedly, Jungkook stole many kisses from you in a span of ten minutes. You thought you wouldn't mind, but damn was he a ferocious beast.

He had bitten and licked you enough. You still need to meet some of your clients tomorrow. You couldn't go around looking like a violet painting, could you?

"Just one more kiss." Jungkook was about to kiss you again, but you pushed his forehead away.

"No. Your one kiss will last twenty minutes. Have mercy. I have a cut on my lips because of you!"

"Maybe I should kiss it better?" Jungkook batted his eyelashes. You pinched his cheeks in both annoyance and fondness.

"I can't believe I got myself a clingy boyfriend."

That shut Jungkook up. He looked at you dumbly, frozen like a stone in his spot.

It took him a second to realize the meaning of your statement. He gasped and grabbed your shoulders.

"We're dating?"

You blushed because of how surprised and delighted he sounded. It made you wonder if you were being toohasty, but you couldn't take back your statement now, could you? Not when the big puppy beside you was vibrating with excitement.

Gosh. He was so pathetic for you.

"Don't you want to?"

"No. No!" Jungkook licked his lips, his jaw tensing. You two were currently sitting on the couch. Jungkook could see the red roses on the center table. It pissed him off. The smile he flashed at you was strained. "It's good that you confirmed we're dating. That means the person who keeps sending you flowers will stop now, right?"

"Huh? You mean Mrs. Tanaka?" You narrowed your eyes. That old woman was a client of yours. She had a legal dispute over her land and had you represent her in court. The Supreme Court recently decided in favor of her, so now the land was rightfully hers. She sent you flowers as an additional expression of thank you.

Your clients have always been sweet. Aside from monetary value, they liked gifting you flowers, luxury bags, and perfumes.

Jungkook was stupefied. Of course, he knew Mrs. Tanaka. She brought candies for Hanni last time. Jungkook had approved it, so Hanni happily indulged her sweet tooth while you weren't looking.

He would have never guessed that Mrs. Tanaka was the one who sent you flowers.

You looked at Jungkook suspiciously, though. Then you crinkled your eyes. "Wait, did you think some guy is sending me flowers?"

Jungkook's lips protruded into a pout. He scratched his nape, "Well, you know. Someone did send you home before, then you received those popcorn flowers the next day..."

"Oh, my gosh. You're still not over that!?" You gaped at Jungkook. You seemed to learn more things about your boyfriend as time passed by. Was he seriously the jealous type?

You thought about it for a second, realizing it wasn't a red flag for you. In fact—

You looked at Jungkook's still sulky face. It warmed your heart in an instant.

—In fact, it was kind of cute.

"You don't have to worry." You stroked his arms. "I'm not entertaining anyone else. You're the only one I like."

Jungkook's downturned lips curved up. He practically had stars in his eyes. "Good. No more going out on dates either, except with me."

"But I never went on dates?" You didn't have time for it. Your clients were the only ones you met up with. Besides, meeting someone with a romantic intent was difficult for you. You hated opening your heart to a stranger since it was a waste of time and would probably not work out.

But Jungkook was not convinced. He remembered that you went on a date two weeks ago. He let out ahmph sound and said, "Don't lie to your boyfriend. You were on a date recently. You even wore a black dress."

Oh, that. Realization dawned on you. You shook your head at Jungkook, "Tsk. Are you the strict type? I went out with Ji-eun that night. That girl neededa break, you know?"

She sure did. Ji-eun was an overworked prosecutor. She couldn't remember the last time she went out, so you volunteered to take her on a date. Ji-eun was hammered.You didn't have a choice but to stop drinking and just babysit her.

You brought her home, too, and decided to stay the night.

"I'm saving the planet. I'm a responsible citizen!" You reasoned out to Jungkook. If you left Ji-eun at her home, you were sure she and Jongsuk would end up making another baby. 

Jungkook finally relaxed. As it turned out, most things that made him sad the past two weeks were simply a misunderstanding.

You and Jungkook talked for a bit. He also assured you that he was not dating anyone else. His mother already called you daughter-in-law.He wouldn't dare bring anyone else home—he also didn't want to.

"I still can't believe this is real." Jungkook sighed with contentment as he gazed at your face.

He couldn't believe that after so long, you two would be here, sitting on the couch without biting each other's neck—that there would come a time when he could admit he liked you and that you felt the same.

If someone told him a month ago that he would be dating you, he probably would laugh at their face. You and Jungkook had a long history together; even now, you still have to figure out many things. But it was best to take things slow, mainly because you needed to prioritize Hanni first. The deliberation of the social workers hasn't been finalized yet.

"I'm real." You leaned your head over Jungkook's shoulder. You also traced his tattoo once again. Next time, you'd ask him why and when he got this. "We're real."

Jungkook nodded before kissing your temples. He felt your heartbeat through your wrist for a while.

He brought your hand to his mouth a little later, kissed it, and whispered goodnight to you.

***

Unfortunately, you might have to reevaluate jealousyas your red flag.

Your morning started off the same. You were cooking breakfast while Jungkook went out to check the mailbox. He hadn't seen flowers in a while, but fate seemed to be testing you as there was a fresh bouquet of tulips on your doorstep.

"Another client?" Jungkook frowned, letting you see the messy handwriting on the bouquet's card. Your name was written on it with a small heart on the end.

The veins in your head felt like they were going to explode. You honestly didn't want to deal with this early in the morning, but you realized that the sooner you talked about it, the sooner it would go away.

"I know where the flowers came from." You sighed loudly and took off your apron. It was a Sunday. Jongsuk would pick up Hanni after lunch. Perhaps it was better to order food online as your morning would be spent pacifying a big baby.

"I'm not sure if you remember him, but his name is Rico Braun. He was—"

"Mingyu's classmate and a bastard who's obsessed with you." Jungkook cut you off harshly. He wasn't mad at you or anything. This wasn't even about his jealousy. Jungkook's rage was directed at Rico.

How could Jungkook forget him? Rico was the reason why Mingyu's life became so fucked up. Jungkook hated him.

You gave your boyfriend warm tea and coaxed him to calm down. Unfortunately, Jungkook was still brooding. Hanni woke up a little later. She noticed her Jungkook-boy was in a foul mood, so she tried cheering him up.

Hanni was never scared of Jungkook. At three, she already knew Jungkook-boy would neverhurt her. 

"Come on, I've already blocked his number. We haven't talked in a while now." You told Jungkook the last time you and Rico talked was many weeks ago. He insisted on bringing you home, so you just agreed to get it over with. You also told him Rico was already out of the country.

However, Jungkook didn't feel at ease. He searched for Rico on social media platforms.

"I'm blocking him too!" Jungkook announced.

You, him, and Hanni were in the living room. Hanni said she wanted to watch a movie with you and Jungkook before Uncle Jongsuk picked her up.

The little girl chose a movie while his male guardian sulked beside her.

"Hanni, look. He's not good-looking, isn't he?"

Jungkook's pettiness reached another level when he showed Hanni a photo of Rico. You facepalmed. This was a little too much.

But Hanni was on Jungkook's side. She looked at the picture and scowled, "Jungkook-boy, who is that? He looks like the one I saw in a movie before!"

As if on cue, the teYoongision flashed a movie recommendation. It was called Antz.Hanni giggled and pointed at the screen, "Look! Look! He looks like Z!"

Z was a character in Antz. Your mouth parted in shock as Hanni and Jungkook made fun of Rico. You couldn't care less about Rico, but you scolded them for being mean.

Jungkook caressed Hanni's hair when he realized his mistake, "Terni is right, Hanni. We can't be mean to other people. You can't judge them solely based on looks, alright?"

Your heart relaxed at that. You thought that was the end, but Jungkook added something more.

"Except him. You are allowed to make fun of this dude called Rico. He's a me—"

The pillow hit Jungkook's face before he could finish his sentence.

He looked at you sheepishly. You glared.

Silence filled the room.

Jungkook finally shut up.

***

Jungkook slowly returned to normal a few weeks after you two started dating. He hadn't really changed much to begin with. Jungkook became comfortable with being a little too in lovewith you.

Of course, the bickering never stopped. Jungkook still got on your nerves and vice versa. If one thing had changed, it was that Jungkook became busier with work.

He was assigned to many patrol operations and review reports. One time, you and Jungkook got home in the middle of the night because Jungkook had to go to the hospital first and get stitches.

You were so mad you berated Yoongi. "There are so many newbie officers out there! Why'd you have to send Jungkook to deal with these bastards!"

Jimin and Jungkook grabbed your shoulders to steady you. The bastards you were talking about were two groups of men who got into a brawl.  Jungkook stepped in to stop them. They were useless gangs who had the gall to start a fight but cowered under the skirts of their mother.

It was so annoying!

Captain Yoongi was unbothered, though. He drank his tea and shrugged his shoulders. Jungkook brought you home while cajoling you to calm down.

However, you couldn't calm down, wanting to see him okay and out of danger. You and Jungkook ended up sleeping in the same bed that night. You tossed and turned, making sure you weren't hitting his wounds. You had to get up every 2hours to remind him to take his medicine.

Jungkook appreciated your concern so much that he wouldn't stop peppering your face with feather-like kisses. He thought the incident was a blessing in disguise as that was the start of the two of you sleeping in the same bed.

You hadn't gone beyond kissing and a few touches here and there, though. The nights you stayed together were more of a getting-to-know-each-otherphase.

Jungkook missed almost a decade of your life. He spent those years confused about his feelings for you—sometimes he liked you, sometimes he felt disappointed in the path you chose.

But ultimately, he felt regret because he hadn't made up his mind in those years. What did he truly want?

You were different from Jungkook. You knew everything that happened to him since Sora never failed to update you, even though you told her you couldn't care less.

That was a lie—you only told Sora this to make yourself feel better about how things ended between you and Jungkook.

Both of you achieved great things despite not being in the company of the other. But now that you were together, things became greater. 

It was a typical day for you. You didn't work on weekends anymore, but your weekdays were busier than ever. A client of you called with an urgent concern. You were supposed to drop off Hanni at the daycare today, but your stupid client ruined your schedule.

"Don't say anything." You reminded your client in haste as you put on your heels. Your phone was attached to your ear since your hands were full of documents. Damn it. You were going to be late! "You're saying you are in Seoul now? The officers there would harass you. Demand a medical check-up before you engage with their demand. Again, don't say anything unnecessary without me there."

You kissed Jungkook and Hanni and mouthed goodbyeto them. Jungkook was sad you were leaving early but knew he couldn't interfere with your work. Jungkook watched helplessly as you sprinted toward your vehicle.

You started your car while still on the phone with your client. The latter was crying on the other line, saying how scared he was of the police officers in Seoul. He wasn't familiar with the city. Unfortunately, he got arrested for violating a local government law relating to operating an unmanned aircraft.

You were in the middle of talking to your client and were about to drive away when Jungkook abruptly entered your car.

"I'll go now. See you in a while." You cut off the line so you could direct your attention to Jungkook. He was carrying Hanni, and both of them were looking at you disapprovingly.

"What is it?" You huffed at them. You didn't have time for games. You had work to do.

Hanni crossed her arms while Jungkook lightly flicked your forehead.

"Ouch!" You overreacted. "What was that for?"

Both Jungkook and Hanni shook their heads. Jungkook was the one who explained their disappointment. 

"You're driving away without a seatbelt? Don't you have regard for your life? Why do you keep forgetting you're a mom now?"

"Mama doesn't love us!" Hanni added fuel to the fire.

Oh.

You sheepishly blinked at them. Right. You were a 'mom' now. Frieda and Kiyomi released a statement, saying that you and Jungkook passed the deliberation. All you needed to do now was to sign the documents and submit them to the court, then the court would contact you to swear an oath, and that was it.

You would legally be Hanni's guardian. It was a done deal already. Jungkook knew you had already submitted the documents to the court. All you needed to do was wait for their call.

Your friends rejoiced with the news. You all had a mini party to celebrate. Hanni was so happy despite not knowing the legalities of the process. She just understood that you would forever be with her.

Admittedly, it was Hanni's idea to call you and Jungkook as ‘Mama’and ‘Papa.’You were at the party at that time. You announced the good news to your friends. Rin—Ji-eun and Jongsuk's eldest child--looked at Hanni innocently and asked, "Does this mean they're your mama and papa now?" while pointing at you and Jungkook.

You wished you were kidding when you said Hanni's eyes dilated out of excitement. She instantly called you Mama. A big smile was plastered on her lips.

You wanted badly to refute her. Not because you hated the idea of being a mom but because you did notwant to stealsomething that belonged to Sora and Niccolo.

Jungkook saw your struggle and wanted to correct Hanni, too. But Hanni called him Papa,and Jungkook didn't have the heart to refute her.

Thankfully, Hanni said something that soothed your guilty heart, "Isn't it cool? I have Mummy Sora, Daddy Nico, Mama Terni, and Papa Jungkook-boy!"

The kids cheered. One of Ji-eun's children even asked if she could have another papa,too. Jongsuk refused his kid vehemently. The mood lightened afterward, allowing you to continue the party without hiccups.

Since then, Hanni has never stopped addressing you as Mama.There were times you still felt awkward, just like now.

In your thirty-two years of existence, you had never once thought a little kid and Jungkook, as your boyfriend, would berate you for not wearing your seatbelt.

"It's my fault." And that you would so easily concede to them. Jungkook helped you wear your seatbelt. After that, he kissed your forehead. Hanni kissed your cheek.

Jungkook wanted to kiss you on the lips, but you told him to have some decency as you were in the presence of your child.

Jungkook snorted and unsuccessfully hopped out of the car with Hanni. They waved goodbye to you before going back inside the house.

"Remember, kid. You can kiss your loved ones on the lips. I happen to like your Mama so much that I can kiss her anytime. It's normal." Jungkook reminded Hanni. He couldn't say he didn't have ulterior motives for this, but a part of him wanted Hanni to learn affection and what should've been normalized in the first place.

"Alright," Hanni kissed Jungkook's cheek, "Does that mean I can kiss my friend Beren on the lips? I like him!"

Jungkook's eyes widened.

He lightly grabbed Hanni's shoulder and stared deep into her eyes. Jungkook's jaw ticked. "No! You absolutely cannot kiss Beren! You're a child!"

Beren was Ji-eun and Jongsuk's child. Jungkook felt pain in his heart. This was not happening! He couldn't let his three-year-old kid like that pimp Beren!

Jungkook sighed in frustration and defeat. He sat down with Hanni and told Captain Yoongi he would be late for work. Jungkook didn't care about salary deductions or any punishment ahead.

He needed to educate his daughter first!

***

The case of your client in Seoul turned out difficult to handle. It took you half a day to deal with it. You also visited your office and talked to your secretary about some updates, so it was already nighttime when you reached Busan.

The Kang Residence was unbelievably quiet. For once, Jungkook wasn't by the door to welcome you.

Strange. 

You entered the house. All the lights were turned off. You checked Jungkook and Hanni's rooms, but they were not around.

For some reason, your heart had gone cold. You felt numbness crawling from your feet to your head when you opened the cabinets.

Empty.

It only meant one thing: Jungkook and Hanni left you.

It should have come as a shocker, but you expected this. This was your plan, after all. It was just that something changed. Instead of Jungkook and Hanni, you should have been the one who left.

Still, you couldn't help but cling to them. You tried calling Jungkook. However, his phone was turned off. You had no choice but to call his mother.

Mrs. Jeon answered the phone, asking what was wrong. She was worried after her son and granddaughter barged into her home.

You couldn't explain the situation via phone, so you told her you'd be there in a few minutes. You didn't mind if she told Jungkook because, despite things escalating to this level, you knew Jungkook would not run away from a confrontation.

He wanted to know what was up with you, too.

The drive to the Jeon's residence was short. You couldn't remember stepping on the gas so hard. For once, all thoughts evaporated in your head as the inevitable enveloped you:

You fucked up.

You and Jungkook were doing okay just this morning. He kissed you goodbye and reminded you to wear your seatbelt, but now everything felt suffocating. You removed the seatbelt and hopped out of the car.

Your numb legs miraculously made it to the door. Jungkook was there. He was leaning on the wall with a cigarette in his hand.

Jungkook never smoked—he hated the smell and its effect, but he couldn't help but indulge in the feeling of smoke filling his lungs.

He was stressed.

"Hey," you greeted. What other choice did you have? Whatever you spouted would sound like bullshit to him. A simple 'hey' was the safest option.

But as expected, Jungkook did not bother to look at you. He stared into nothing as he puffed out smoke. 

You turned your head away and held your breath. The suffocating smell of smoke made you want to puke.

"I've read your letter." Jungkook's voice was devoid of any emotion.

You'd like to think you had seen almost all sides of him. You saw him angry, frightened, grieving, and disappointed.

But this? This was something you hadn't seen before. Jungkook seemed like a dead robot. When he looked at you, you saw nothing—not even disgust.

Jungkook just felt empty. For the second time, he felt what it was like to be proven wrong.

"I trusted you, you know," Jungkook said in a flat tone. His face was hollow when he threw the cigarette stick on the floor.

You watched as ashes scattered on the floor. They were like the memories you spent together these past months. Now, Jungkook did not hesitate to let them go.

He stepped on the cigarette stick aggressively.

"I honestly believed you had a change of heart, but..." Jungkook trailed off. He chuckled at himself—of how naïve he was. Then he looked up—like doing so was the only way to stop the tears from falling down his eyes.

He didn't want to cry in front of you.

"You betray me. As usual."

"J-Jungkook..." Your voice cracked. The lump in your throat grew bigger, threatening to choke you.

"Don't." Jungkook's jaw ticked. Anger flashed in his eyes. No. You didn't have the right to look apologetic. He wouldn't want to hear your lame excuse. You had made a decision already—just like what you did when you left Busan to chase your dream.

Jungkook knew everything now. You lied to him. You did not submit the documents to the court. You didn't even sign them. The papers collected dust on your office table.

All because you did not want to be Hanni's legal guardian.

Jungkook had read the letter you wrote. It was addressed to the judge, Kiyomi, and Frieda. You told them you were backing out from the guardianship as you couldn't do it—you weren't fit to be a mother.

You said you wanted to pass all responsibilities to Jungkook. Maybe Taehyung, too, if he agreed. You claimed you didn't want anything to do with Hanni--that you wanted to go back to Seoul and focus on your career.

To further your fucking career.

Jungkook wanted to scream because he should have known. And honestly, he couldn't fault you either. You had always been like this. You had always thought about your career more than anything.

More than him.

More than Hanni.

"What are you still doing here? Why haven't you left?" Jungkook did not want to see you anymore.

Your heart couldn't take it. Bad habits die hard. You were a heartless jerk who liked putting the blame on others. You were a ruthless lawyer who turned on the good to protect the evil.

You were the evil. Jungkook realized when you threw back a question at him, "What about you? Don't you hate me? Then why are you still waiting for me here?"

Say you love me.

Make me change my mind.

Fight these demons threatening to swallow me whole.

Save me.

"You—" Jungkook huffed. He was speechless because of your shamelessness. Tears fell down his cheeks. He wiped them harshly. "You're really something, aren't you?"

You sucked in a breath. That's right. Be angry with me. Show me something. 

But you were asking for too much. Even you knew how shameless you were being. You couldn't keep doing this. You couldn't keep hurting Jungkook.

It was not fair.

You stepped back. From your distance, you could see Jungkook shaking. He was clenching his fist so tightly—you were sure his fingernails had dug into his skin to the point of scarring.

When you two started going out, Jungkook stopped wearing his wristwatch, but he was wearing it again.

You couldn't fault him. This was on you.

So you did what you're good at.

"Let's break up, Jungkook."

You broke him.

Jungkook gnashed his teeth as a response. Tears continue to flood his cheeks.

"Fine." He glared at you. "Have it your way. Let's not see each other again."

Jungkook already had his heart broken. You had seen him shed tears because of you. His pride was severely damaged, so all he could do was turn away.

You didn't take that away from him. You let him have his last shred of dignity.

And then you left.

****

***

***

It's Friday.

You used to spend the night watching movies with Hanni and Jungkook, but now that you were back in Seoul, your Friday night switched to dealing with cases you'd be presenting in court next week.

Your weekend should have been a rest day. You would wait for one of your friends to pick up Hanni, and then you and Jungkook would go on a date.

But that was before. Now, you were just a single, overworked lawyer who breathed in money.

It was more complicated now that you were in Seoul. You were constantly receiving emails from the Braun Family, asking you to work for them again and if there was any chance you could appeal Gabi's case.

It was a shot in the dark, but they still did it. After all, you didn't hesitate to do it before. You betrayed Mingyu for money. Now, you have done the same thing. You gave up on your promise to your dead best friend to further your 'career.'

"Attorney, Mr. Braun called again. They're offering to make you the head of their—"

"Decline it." You didn't let your secretary finish. She understood at once, proceeding to your next business.

"Noted. I'm reminding you that you have a court hearing tomorrow morning from seven to nine. Should I confirm your attendance?"

"Yes." You answered without casting your gaze away from the files. Work. You needed to work harder.

"Then tomorrow at 9:15am, you are invited by the University of Seoul to give a lecture to graduating law students. It's a 6-hour lecture. Are you up for it?"

"Yes." Came your robotic response. You could skip lunch. It was not a big deal.

"Mr. Kang needs your legal advice as well. He's asking if you're available at 3:30pm tomorrow?"

"Yes." You turned the page of the files you were reading. Your eyes had gone dry. It was okay.

"Can we still squeeze in a 5pm online consultation with Isayama Corporation? They've been trying to seek your service for a while now."

"Confirm my appearance tomorrow."

Mina wanted to go on but didn't have the heart to. There were so many events and clients you still needed to entertain. What about rest? You hadn't been sleeping the past month.

Your subordinates noticed your drastic loss of weight. Frankly speaking, they were worried about you. However, they had no one to voice their concerns to. They didn't know any of your family members, and Sora, the only one who kept you grounded the past years, was dead.

"Is there anything else?" You leaned back on your swivel chair and looked at your secretary. Was it weird that you felt she was dancing?

Or were you just dizzy?

"Actually, Mr. Kim Taehyung called. He's asking if you're free to meet him for dinner tomorrow. He's in Seoul and said he's willing to pay your hourly rate. How should I respond, Attorney?"

Your eyebrow shot at that. Huh. Taehyung was in Seoul?

"Tell him my hourly rate is thirteen thousand won. If he agrees, tell him I'm meeting him at Tross District."

Mina expressed her understanding and left you alone after. You massaged your aching temples, clamping your eyes shut.

This was your life now. It seemed like nothing had changed, but it felt like everything changed at the same time.

Returning to Seoul after staying in Busan for months made you realize how monotonous your life was—how your life revolved around law and fattening your bank account.

It used to excite you: the thought of earning money and people recognizing your talent. But it didn't seem relevant now—not when you couldn't feel your heart starting. You also couldn’t feel the air or see the sky because you had built your wall higher and stronger this time. They were bluer than ever.

The blue haze spread all over your office. Slowly, you tried to let your guard down as your forehead hit the table.

You breathed in.

You breathed out.

In.

Out.

In. Your tears fell.

Out. More tears fell.

You had to remind yourself it was okay to cry sometimes. Because if you suppressed it all and if you didn't cry enough, the pain would come to bite you back in the ass.

And it was gonna hurt. Like a fucking bitch.

***

Your Saturday reeked of regret.

You regretted filling your schedule the whole day with only a maximum of a thirty-minute break. 

Your mind and body were about to give up. Tross District was near your office, yet you almost crawled there. You suddenly regretted charging Taehyung with your regular hourly rate. You should've charged higher because you were not ready to face him.

"Long time no see, Attorney." Taehyung was playing the role of a client very well. His sarcastic remark made you want to roll your eyes. But you didn't. You were trying to be professional.

"Apologies for not arriving on time. I didn't want to be here." Whoops. A slip of the tongue.

Taehyung glared at you. Nonetheless, he helped you sit down. He was not a bastard. He saw how much you were struggling. You looked exhausted.

"Man, Ji-eun is right. You look like shit." Taehyung grimaced. You mimicked his reaction. Damn. Did Ji-eun talk behind your back?

Unfortunately, you couldn't blame Ji-eun. You couldn't cut her off your life, either. She was the only source of information you had in Busan.

You always bugged the prosecutor to update you regarding Jungkook and Hanni. Ji-eun would always sigh and tell you to come see yourself. You never did. You were a coward. Luckily, Ji-eun had a soft spot for a coward like you. She knew the feeling of pining for a guy she thought she couldn't see more than a family.

"I'm busy with work." You dismissed Taehyung with a wave of your hand. You tried to order wine, but Taehyung did not allow you to.

"I'm paying. You're not allowed to escape this conversation with alcohol, Mam." The boy knew your type well. Your technique was getting old already. Haven't you learned enough? You were thirty-two, for God's sake. Why did you still act like your problems would disappear if you ignored them?

You were acting like a child.

"Ugh," you scowled. "What do you want to talk about, anyway? Come on, time's running."

Taehyung ignored you, focusing on ordering proper meals for you. He was not blind. He saw how much you had lost weight. Your breakup with Jungkook and moving back to Seoul ruined you. Taehyung couldn't watch you destroy yourself any further—not when his other best friend in Busan was doing as bad as you were.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm the biggest idiot in our group or if it's you and Jungkook." Taehyung exhaled loudly. "Or maybe it's Sora. I don't understand why she'd rather leave Hanni to you and Jungkook."

"Hey—!!" Your mind had been working all day. As much as you wanted to refute Taehyung's statement, your brain cells wouldn't do it. You were damn tired. All you could do was roll the tissue paper into a ball and throw it at Taehyung's face.

Taehyung gasped. He debated throwing back the rolled napkin to you but then decided against it. One of you needed to act as the mature one unless you wanted to be kicked out of this restaurant.

Taehyung wouldn't want that—not when he hadn't even started lecturing you for your idiocy and cowardice.

Since Taehyung was a decent person, he let you take a few bites of your food before speaking his mind. You looked like you needed it. You were barely chewing your food. You were so hungry you just swallowed it all.

"Slow down, damn." Taehyung was disgusted. Was this the same person Jungkook cried over about?

"I'm hungry! This is my first meal!"

"You're already living this badly. Don't you have regard for yourself? Are you trying to end your life?"

You stopped slurping your ramen and looked at Taehyung. Seeing his expression had you gluing your mouth shut. Being honest with him would probably send him on a spiral, so you just stuck to your second option: to shut up.

However, Taehyung understood your silence. His jaw ticked, "Why don't you just move back to Busan?"

"Can't. I'm not welcome there anymore." You replied casually. Taehyung felt his head aching.

"And whose fault is that? Aren't you the one who broke up with Jungkook and told me to look after Hanni on your behalf? Your decision got you in this depressive state, yet you still couldn't admit it?"

"I'm not depressed!"

"Oh, come on!" Taehyung badly wanted to throw the rolled napkin on your face. He did. Unfortunately, it landed on your bowl of ramen.

"You—!!"

Taehyung was unapologetic. He snarled at you. "Why are you doing this? Seriously? You're ruining your life for nothing!"

It was a good thing Taehyung hired a private room. Otherwise, you wouldn't have the face to look the customers in the eye. You knew most of them. They had been your clients, and some were your colleagues. You couldn't bear seeing them see you like this.

"And what about it!?" You screamed back. Weeks of built-up frustration fucked you up. Tears brimmed in your eyes. "There's nothing I can do! I can regret all I want, but it ends with that, too. I've ruined everything. You don't understand it. You..."

Your chest was heaving. It was hard to breathe, but you persevered. You felt like you were going to die if you kept it all inside.

"You don't know what it's like to be me, alright? I'm not Sora. I don't know how to be a good mom. I'm not Ji-eun, either! I can't win a case without scheming! And I'm..."

You couldn't hold back your tears. A sob escaped your lips.

"I'm not enough. I don't know how to love him. I'm...broken." The last word was barely above a whisper, but it reverberated through Taehyung's heart.

He couldn't take it. Seeing you like this felt like he was losing another friend. He could only take so much.

"Why do you say that?" Taehyung's expression morphed into something bitter. He bit his lips as if he was stopping something painful. "Did he never tell you?"

Tell me what? You wanted to ask, yet you couldn't find your voice. Your throat was filled with bile. One word, and you would throw it all out. You couldn't. It was too pungent.

Taehyung was conflicted. He stared at you blankly for a while, thinking of how he could explain things to you the same way Jungkook explained to him his feelings for you.

You lapsed into silence.

Taehyung watched the floating tissue on your ramen bowl. He felt guilty. You were deprived of many things.

Taehyung called out your name. Surprisingly, you did not bite back. You just simply hummed to indicate you were listening.

Taehyung calmed down.

"What do you think about law school?"

His question caused you to snap your head up and meet his gaze. Why was Taehyung asking you such a question?

"Can you tell me what you feel about law school?"

You always complained about how hard law school was. Taehyung had to admit that sometimes he pretended to listen to your rant. It drained him to listen to you talk. But now, he really wanted to hear your thoughts.

"I..." You licked your lips. You didn't know where to start. There were so many things to say about law school. Summarizing it would feel like a crime, but you still tried to fit what you feel in a few sentences.

"I abhorred law school so much." You didn't just dislike it—you hated it. "I hate that we follow the Socratic method. I hate that I had to memorize the provisions verbatim. I hate that I had to read hundreds of pages for a single case only to be asked one sentence about it. I hate how my professors attacked me personally and belittled my capacities because I got one question wrong. I hate that I constantly have to demerit my classmates' answers just so I wouldn't get zero on our recitation. I hate that I have to scheme to prove a point. I hate that they call the Constitution the supreme law of the land, but it's open to interpretation—it's open to many things. I view this provision as a circle, but it's a square. I hate it. I hate law school so much."

Taehyung could feel the hatred radiating from you.

"But..." Your lips trembled as you swallowed thickly, "I love law school at the same time. I love how it taught me how to be tough. I love how I can use these square things to help those in need, those falsely accused. I love how my heart pumps whenever I talk about those damned provisions I have memorized by heart. Most importantly, I love how being a lawyer defined me. It's not my whole personality, but it is a part of me."

A huge part of who you are today. Something you could call your own.

"Wow." Taehyung blinked, unable to say anything at first. He knew you were passionate about law but underestimated its impact on you. 

You gave your whole heart to law.

"I get it now." The bulb inside Taehyung's head lit up. He squared his shoulders and looked at you with understanding. "You're like this because you haven't realized what you meant to Jungkook."

Taehyung was not making sense to you. You gaped, blinking dumbly at him.

Taehyung shook his head and licked his lips. He tried to explain, "Didn't it ever occur to you that maybe you are Jungkook's definition of law school?"

Jungkook felt two extreme emotions toward you all his life: love and hatred. But your actions to him were more of the latter, so Jungkook thought he'd act like he hated you more.

You didn't exactly give him many reasons to realize his love for you. The anger and the betrayal overpowered something he had not admitted himself.

Come to think of it, every emotion you two felt for each other was so strong that you didn't realize you were rushing into things.

It took you a short time to get together. It took you even a shorter time to break up. Your feelings were so intensethat you didn't know what to do with them.

"I guess you're not the only idiot in your relationship. Jungkook is, too." Taehyung observed. Jungkook was not good with words. He showed his love with actions. It was evident by how he took care of you and awkwardly kissed you the first time. Admittedly, he didn't know what to do after that first kiss. He was an awkward little ball who failed to assure you what it meant.

The second kiss was slightly better, but Jungkook still didn't know what to do with the feelings injected into his heart. He only knew how to cling and possess.

You two hadn't dealt with your issues before. Yes, you made it clear to each other that there was no room for other people in your hearts, but it ended with that.

Frankly, this was the bottom line of your issue. You were vulnerable and admitted to Taehyung,  "I don't know what to do with us, Taehyung." You held back a hiccup. "I felt like I've stolen this life."

Your gain was someone else's loss. Would you have dated Jungkook if Sora didn't die? Would you two have started something hadn't been for the fact that you were forced to live together?

These thoughts flooded your brain. More importantly, you thought you didn't deserve to be a mother. Hanni calling you Mama had fucked you up more than you thought it would. You lied to yourself at first, thinking you were simply getting used to the thought of being responsible for a child's life.

However, it was proven to be challenging. You had a broken soul. How could you love a little child who needed body and soul nourishment when you couldn't extend the same treatment to yourself?

Taehyung's words cut you deep. He voiced your deepest fear.

"What?" Taehyung couldn't fathom how you thought you stole the life you had in Busan. He widened his eyes at you, "Are you so insecure and a coward that you think Jungkook can't fall in love with you? That you can't love Hanni, right? Why? Is it because you have convinced yourself no one could love you? That's it, right? You thought that because that's how you viewed yourself in the first place."

Taehyung felt scandalized when he realized something.

He gasped and said, "It's because you don't love you."

No shit. You really had a broken soul and heart. You couldn't accept love, so you ran away from it.

Silence permeated the room. Taehyung didn't know what to say to you anymore. You were defeated, too.

"Just think about it," Taehyung said after a long pause. He blinked and held your hand. He squeezed them tightly. His touch was comforting, but it wasn't warm.

He wasn't Jungkook.

"You're a great lawyer. Just please think about what I said. You are not hard to love. Or even if you are, someone out there treats you like you are his law school."

There was someone out there who would not give up on you. Someone who would stubbornly charge ahead if it mean being a part of your life.

He loved you.

Jungkook loved you.

You and Taehyung left Tross District after you both calmed down. He didn't have the heart to let you go alone, so he drove you home.

Your apartment in Seoul was big, but it didn't feel like a home. It was simply a house. It was cold. Devoid of flowers and laughter.

It made Taehyung's heart ache.

"I'll get going." Taehyung squeezed your shoulders, still feeling lamented by how you treated your body. "Don't forget your promise to me and Sora."

It was game over. Taehyung had used your weakness against you. But you knew he was right. Your heart had decided, too.

"I know." You smiled softly. "I'll talk to him soon."

"Good." Taehyung turned to leave. He was halfway out the door when you called him.

"Taehyung?"

"Hm?"

"How do you know?" How'd you know Jungkook loves me?

Taehyung's eyelashes fluttered. The wind blew gently.

Taehyung smiled at you.

"My best friend told me. I have eyes too, you know? I won't lie to you."

He wouldn't. Taehyung was the most honest man you knew. He was always genuine in whatever he did. He had eyes that saw the truth, too.

Taehyung wouldn't forget about that day. It was when Sora's case came to an end. Taehyung had invited you and the others to dinner.

Jungkook was dazzling when he entered the restaurant. His hand was tightly wrapped just above your waist—like he wanted to attach you to him.

Hanni was in your arms the whole night. Jungkook ate so little as he was busy tending to you. You two were sitting beside each other. Taehyung watched how gently Jungkook gathered your hair so you could eat your hotpot without disruption.

And when you burnt your tongue because of how hot the food was, Jungkook immediately came to rescue you. He brought the cup close to your lips and let you drink water. After that, he gently patted your lips dry with a napkin.

You turned to Jungkook that time and said thank you.

Jungkook smiled back and whispered no problem to your neck.

Taehyung remembered watching the two of you, his heart melting. Some might think it was a simple gesture, but that was a moment of enlightenment for him.

When you know, you know.

"Take care of yourself." Taehyung reminded you for the last time. You didn't say anything more and just watched him leave.

As Taehyung entered his car, you suddenly remembered a portion of Sora's dying letter addressed to you.

"I'm leaving my little girl to you and Jungkook. Don't ask me about Taehyung. He's an idiot. Idiots can't take care of a child."

Huh.

You were starting to think Sora was just making an excuse. She knew Taehyung was not the idiot here.

It was you. And Sora was on a mission to change how you viewed life and yourself.

***

"Papa, where are we going?" Hanni's furrowed brows were cute to look at. However, Jungkook knew the little girl was trying not to cry. She thought she and Jungkook would go somewhere far again.

Hanni was sad the night they moved to the Jeon residence. Admittedly, it was not part of the plan. But Jungkook couldn't bear to stay in the same room as you—not after discovering that you viewed your relationship with him and Hanni as a burden.

Jungkook wouldn't mind if he was the only one affected. He was used to you leaving. But Hanni would get hurt, too. What would this little girl feel if she found out that her Mama didn't want to do anything with her? 

"Don't worry, sweetheart. We're just going on a vacation."

Captain Yoongi assigned a drug-related case to Jungkook, so he needed to go to Gangwon Prefecture to investigate. Jungkook was hesitant at first, mainly because he didn't know where to leave Hanni. He had no intention of hiring a babysitter for a whole week. He couldn't leave the kid to Mrs. Jeon either. She was an old woman who could barely stand. Jungkook's friends were all busy, too. Captain Yoongi assigned them individual cases, which were all complex.

Besides, Hanni was vulnerable now. She hadn't moved on from her parents' absence completely. It didn't help that you had left, too.

Hanni always asked about you, but Jungkook made many excuses, saying you were busy with work and that Sora needed a hand to save the rabbits, so you volunteered. 

Hanni was not happy to hear the same excuse. You promised to be with her for a hundred years. It hadn't been a year since you swore that, yet you were already gone.

You were a liar. Don't you love her anymore?

"It's just going to be seven days, darling. After that, we can go to your Aunt Ji-eun and Uncle Jongsuk's house. I won't glare at Beren, either. Just go with Papa for now, okay?"

"Okay," Hanni agreed but pouted her lips. She looked at the door to your bedroom, "I miss Mama. When will Mama come back?"

Jungkook and Hanni had moved back to the Kang residence three days after he made sure you had left Busan. The silence of the house was suffocating Jungkook, but he had no choice but to repress his pain.

He was learning from you. Weren't you the one who could pretend everything was alright even though it was all falling apart?

Jungkook needed to be strong for Hanni. However, it wasn't easy to do so. Hanni threw a fuss on the way to Gangwon Prefecture. As it turned out, the little kid didn't like traveling to far places.

Hanni vomited a lot, feeling dizzy from being inside the car for hours.

Jungkook was in a state of panic when they reached Gangwon. He deliberated bringing Hanni to the hospital, but Jimin called via phone and told Jungkook to contact Doctor Kim Seokjin first.

After the online consultation, Kim Seokjin said it was nothing serious and that Hanni just needed to rest. Because of this, Jungkook decided to postpone his investigation for a day.

He and Hanni ended up bonding inside their rented place. They watched movies, played games, and ate tasty food.

Captain Yoongi called at night, though. He said the investigation was an urgent matter. Jungkook couldn't leave Hanni alone, so after making sure that the police station was safe, Jungkook brought Hanni there.

Captain Yoongi was skeptical and wanted Jungkook to see why there were so many drug-related cases in Busan, yet all suspects were thrown to Gangwon Prefecture. Jungkook decided to talk to some of the inmates, but of course, he needed to talk to the head of Gangwon Police Station first.

With Hanni clinging to his arms, Jungkook stepped foot inside the station. He was greeted by a correction officer.

"Hello. I'm Busan's Police Lieutenant Jeon. I'm looking for Captain Choi."

The correction officer checked the computer system first. After confirming that Jungkook indeed had business with their Captain, the correction officer immediately led Jungkook to the Captain's office.

Jungkook brought Hanni, swearing that he had headphones and other games to distract the kid. She wouldn't interfere with the meeting.

The correction officer brushed it off. He said that the Captain usually brought along his children, too.

Jungkook felt at ease. He nodded at the correction officer and finally entered the Captain's room.

But what he saw made him question everything he thought he knew.

***

Your monotonous life passed by. It had been a while since you talked to Taehyung, yet you still refused to make do with your promise to him.

You have not contacted Jungkook yet.

You missed him terribly. You longed to see your little kid, too. But your heart shook every time you tried to contact them.

Just like now.

You dropped your phone on the table, clenching your fists that were shaking.

A stack of files filled your table and office, but you ignored them. Your attention was focused on your phone.

You had been meaning to call Jungkook, but your stupid heart wouldn't calm down.

You screamed internally.

Later. You'd do it later today.

***

Gangwon Police Station had seen it all: there were screaming criminals, crying accused, and police officers who were done with everything and just wanted to go home.

However, it never saw a grand reunion between two friends who had not seen each other in ten years.

Jungkook stared at the man in front of him. He used to be one of those boys who refused to cry as it showed weakness. But he couldn't care about it now.

Tears welled up in his eyes as he stared at his long-lost friend.

***

Your secretary was worried about you.

You had deadlines but were still looking dumbly at your phone instead of working. Mina wanted to snatch the little device and be the one to call whoever the one you'd been meaning to talk to.

Your secretary had never seen you this distressed. 

She sighed and thought, "Is my boss in love?" Then she cringed at the thought.

Nah. You're probably thinking of a way to solve a case.

It was impossible for you to be in love. Even if you were, she was sure it would be reciprocated.

You were easy to love.

***

Back in Gangwon Police Station, Jungkook was sitting nervously on the couch. Hanni was crawling around the Captain's office. She had toys to keep her company, so she wasn't interested in disturbing his Papa and the other guy with gentle eyes.

Mina couldn't take it anymore. She'd be damned if you didn't finish your work for today. She was about to waltz in your direction when your phone suddenly rang.

You recoiled.

It took three rings before you answered the call.

"Hello?" You introduced yourself for formalities, thinking that someone had unfortunately given away your personal contact information again.

You were about to tell the person on the other line not to contact this number again, but then you were cut off by a familiar voice.

The person on the other line knew your whole name. He mentioned it before proceeding to his business, "I'm calling from Gangwon Police Station. You need to come here now. There are two people here: One thirty-something male claiming to be your husband, and the other is a three-year-old girl claiming to be your daughter. They say they won't leave unless you, the mom of the family, pick them up."

There were no thoughts left in your head after that sentence. You immediately ended the call and stood up.

"Attorney, where are you going?" Mina panicked. You had work to do. You couldn't leave.

But you couldn't care less about your job right now. 

You needed to go.

Your family needed you.

***

The night wasn't young anymore when you reached Gangwon Police Station. The long drive took many hours. You couldn't sit still and fidgeted. Your dumb ass forgot to bring your phone since you were in a hurry. You also didn't have time to tell the driver to make a stop as you wanted to reach your destination as soon as possible.

Fortunately, the driver you hired was professional and was able to drive you to Gangwon without any problems. You paid the driver double and ran towards the station, feeling bad you couldn't give more thanks to the driver.

There was a far more important thing to deal with right now:

Jungkook and Hanni—your family.

"Mama!?" Hanni was the first one to spot you. Jungkook looked in your direction, too. A faint blush colored his cheeks upon seeing you. Jungkook carried Hanni and walked toward you.

No words were exchanged at first. The three of you silently squeezed into a tight embrace.

"Mama! Mama! Hanni misses you so much! " Your little girl was sobbing. She learned to count up to a hundred to track the days you were gone.

71 days. You were gone for seventy-one long days!

"Mama is here now, sweetheart." You kissed Hanni's forehead. Your knees were still weak from sitting in the car for too long. You couldn't carry Hanni yet.

Jungkook understood, but he couldn't hold back any longer.

"Come here," Jungkook's voice was raspy. His bloodshot eyes seemed not to take no for an answer.

You swallowed and stuck closer to him. Jungkook could carry Hanni with one hand. His other hand snaked to your shoulders. You had grown thinner. He could practically fit you in his hand.

"I miss you," Jungkook confessed honestly, and then he kissed your temple.

Blood rushed to your face. Your lips were trembling.

Jungkook grumbled and pulled you closer, acting like he wanted to melt your bodies together.

"I know everything now." He whispered in your ear.

You froze, unable to say anything. Your eyes wandered behind Jungkook.

The Captain of this station stood there, a small smile painted on his lips.

Captain Mingyu Choi. He was known as Mingyu Kim before he got married and took his wife's last name. Of course, you knew this person well. You fought tooth and nail to give him freedom. He was the main reason why you followed the Braun family. They told you they wouldn't involve the police and make sure Mingyu could still live his life. It might not be in Busan, but at least he lived freely here in Gangwon.

It was only today that Jungkook found out the truth. He had no idea that you kept in contact with Mingyu all these years. Jungkook seriously thought you had abandoned Mingyu for your dream.

Mingyu refuted this and told Jungkook the truth, "If it weren't for her, I'd probably end up in a ditch. She made a fair negotiation with the Braun Family. She knew that if she kept protesting, my life would have been ruined more." You studied well in law school and used all the allowance Mr. Braun gave you to fund Mingyu's lifestyle. The money you sent him fed his family and helped him train as a police officer.

Life was not too cruel to Mingyu because just a year after he moved to Gangwon, he met and married Miyeon Choi. It was you who suggested that Mingyu take his wife's last time. It would be easier for him to start a new life. Thankfully, the Braun family did not bother with Mingyu anymore.

You asked Mingyu if he wanted to get back at the Braun for what they did to him. Yes, the Braun family was powerful, but you were a lawyer now. You knew how to fight them. However, Mingyu didn't want more drama.

Mingyu shook his head, "There is no need for that. They tried to ruin my life, but they didn't succeed. Look at me now. I am a police officer. I have a beautiful and intelligent wife. We are happy with our two kids, too."

Call it toxic positivity or whatever, but Mingyu thought things turned out to be for the better. If Rico hadn't put those illegal drugs in his bag, then he wouldn't have met Miyeon. Living in Gangwon changed Mingyu's life for the better.

Jungkook was perplexed, though. He questioned why neither you nor Mingyu had ever told him about the truth. Apparently, it was Mingyu's idea. Mingyu knew Jungkook. He wouldn't stop in the name of justice. Mingyu appreciated it, but he just wanted to live a peaceful life.

Besides, Mingyu was embarrassed. He felt like he was why you and Jungkook had a fallout. He kept in touch with you and found out what happened to Sora and her husband. Mingyu was aware of your setup with Jungkook and was hoping the two of you would end up together this time.

Fate was cruel to you. Mingyu was dejected when he found out you and Jungkook broke up. He thought it was time to take the matter into his own hands and contacted Captain Yoongi. He corroborated with Busan's Captain to fix your relationship.

This was hitting two birds with one stone. Mingyu didn't want to avenge himself, but there were other people involved in this drug case. It wasn't just the Braun Family. In fact, the fall of Mingyu prompted the Braun clan to lay off drugs in Busan. There was a bigger person who was controlling the drug trade in Busan. They threw addicts and other scapegoats in Gangwon since this prefecture was rural and no one would dare investigate further. But Chief Kim and Captain Min had had enough. They needed to be more proactive to fix their city.

Jungkook would be involved, too. This was a case assigned to him, after all. Though he set this aside for now. He traveled all the way to Gangwon to deal with drugs, but he saw Mingyu, and everything turned upside down.

Mingyu helped him calm down before slowly and patiently explaining things to him. Jungkook understood but couldn't help but throw a tantrum. He told Mingyu he and Hanni would not leave the station unless you picked them up.

You and Mingyu must pacify him. He was the emperor now. He needed his empress.

Thankfully, you had arrived without the need for force. Mingyu could finally sigh in relief as he watched you and Jungkook talk affectionately.

After Jungkook told you what he knew, he batted his eyelashes and said, "You're here now. Won't you take pity on us? Won't you come back to us again?"

'But I've never left.' You wanted to say. Maybe you left physically, but it had always been him and Hanni since day one. 

Sora could rest assured now.

This time, you would never leave.

***

You, Hanni, and Jungkook returned to the place Jungkook rented for a week. Jungkook told Mingyu he would be back tomorrow to properly discuss the drug case, but for now, he needed time with his family first.

Mingyu said it was no problem at all. He was itching to go home, too. Miyeon and his kids were waiting for him.

"Mama, you won't leave again, right?" Hanni held your fingers. She was scared to sleep because what if she woke up later and you were no longer around?

"Not this time, kiddo. Sleep. We'll watch Antz when you wake up, hm?"

That earned a snort from Jungkook. You pinched his cheek and told him to stop being a jealous asshole.

He caught your hand and kissed it.

Hanni giggled when she saw you and Jungkook like this. After convincing her that you wouldn't break your promise, Hanni finally fell asleep.

It was just you and Jungkook now.

The place had two rooms. Jungkook made sure Hanni had her own space wherever they went. Thankfully, you did not shy away from sleeping with Jungkook.

This was for the better. You two needed to talk for real.

"Later." You pushed Jungkook away when he topped you and started trailing kisses all over your face and neck.

Jungkook groaned but obediently followed you. He awkwardly fixed his pants, which felt tight.

You cleared your throat and pretended not to notice the bulge in his pants. Damn it.

"We need to talk first, and no. You can't just say everything is okay. It's not. What I did to you and Hanni was shitty."

You thought Jungkook would be like an obedient dog and just nuzzle your neck. Surprisingly, he turned serious for once.

"You're right. It's shitty." Jungkook jutted his chin. "And I hated you for it. I hated how easy it was for you to leave us alone."

The grievances Jungkook felt when you left were insurmountable. It made him question if it wasn't worth it, but then he remembered what you felt all these years—how you hid everything and acted like the villain.

You never wanted to leave the first time. The circumstances forced you to do it. It was he who didn't realize what was happening.

But that's the thing. You never held it against him. He was young back then. You two were powerless. Your option was the easiest way to deal with it. You just did what you thought was for the best.

"But I'm not any better. I held you on this very high pedestal because I have loved you since the beginning. I was just too blinded by embarrassment and rage, so I failed to recognize what you meant to me."

Jungkook thought about what happened before. Sora, Taehyung, and the others never participated in the protest for Mingyu, but Jungkook never held it against them.

Jungkook recently started to wonder why. And that's when he realized that it was because he loved you.

It was a shitty excuse, though it was the only reasonable explanation why he got mad at you back then. Jungkook realized people tend to have strict and high standardsfor their loved ones.

Jungkook barely batted an eyelash when the others didn't want to protest, but when you told Jungkook the same thing, he got angry and started resenting you.

As it turned out, he resented you for no reason. His heart caved every time he remembered the truth. Mingyu's words echoed in his head it was making him feel bad.

Jungkook couldn't help but kiss you again. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too." You returned the kiss. "What I did to you and Hanni isn't excusable. I won't justify it, either. I'm just sorry I doubted your love for me."

The first time you left might not be your fault, but the second one was. Making promises meant nothing. This time, you would properly apologize and make do with your promise with action.

"Will you tell me?" Jungkook cupped your face and pecked at your lips. He couldn't help it. He was not the once bitten, twice shy type of person. You were addicting.

"Will you tell me how to love you right, babe?" Jungkook was on top of you again. He licked the seam of your lips. "How do I stop your pretty little head from doubting my love for you?"

You purred and rubbed your hips against his crotch. Jungkook was not like any other guy. He'd think of how to improve himself instead of punishing you for what you did.

He loved you so much.

"Just stay with me. Please. I'll be good now. I promise." You felt hot all over, urging Jungkook to unbutton your blouse.

He slowly undressed you as he kissed your neck down to your chest. Sweet. You smelled divine.

Jungkook embraced you while you wrapped your legs around his hips. Heat rolled to your belly. Jungkook pushed you against the headboard, and your back felt the velvet fabric tickling your naked back.

Jungkook was wearing his police uniform. He pinned both your hands to your head and locked them with his handcuff.

You gasped.

Jungkook's eyes pooled with desire when he saw you like this.

"I'll tie you like this if you dare leave me again."

It should've made you mad or embarrassed. Anything would do, but your treacherous body felt desire.

Only groans and moans and soft whimpers reverberated through the room.

'Tomorrow.' You promised yourself. 'We'll talk more tomorrow.'

***

Tomorrow came, and still, you and Jungkook hadn't talked. He got busy with work, and so did you. Mina had a breakdown on the other line, wondering where you went.

You apologized to your secretary and promised to finish your work. The week passed by with both you and Jungkook drowning with work. Hanni didn't have to worry about daycare since it was not formal schooling yet. You might have to enroll her in a formal school next year.

The topic of raising Hanni became your first priority when you went back to Busan.

You and Jungkook decided to raise Hanni in the Kang residence because traces of her departed parents were still here. You both swore not to make major changes in the house, as the decision depended on Hanni. This home belonged to her.

"I like it when we're like this." You embraced Jungkook. You two were slow dancing.

You were at a party tonight to celebrate the Lee couple's tenth wedding anniversary. Jungkook looked dashing in his black three-piece suit. Meanwhile, your boyfriend couldn't keep his eyes off you. He liked how you wore a pastel-colored dress. Jungkook couldn't get his hands off you that you arrived late at the party.

Your makeup was ruined, too. Damn this beast.

No one would have thought he was a monster in bed, though—not when he was holding you like a hatchling now.

"I like us all the time." Jungkook pressed his forehead against yours. He sighed in contentment. "Have I told you before why I got this tattoo here?"

Jungkook was referring to his bracelet tattoo. He was no longer covering it. He wore his wristwatch on his left hand.

"Not yet."

Jungkook hummed and told you the story. Back then, Captain Yoongi always made you, and the other kids do this gesture called Shinzo wo Sasageyo. It is meant to offer your heart. Yoongi never made the gesture but never failed to teach his students to practice it.

The Captain would tell you to practice the gesture during camping and training. It remained in Jungkook's heart, so when he realized his feelings for you, he thought, why not have his tattoo on his right wrist? This way, he could do the Shinzo wo Sasageyo gesture, giving him the illusion that he was offering his heart to you.

After all, the Shinzo Wo Sasageyo gesture included placing your fist against your chest.

"You found out you love me that early?" You were shocked.

Jungkook nodded, "At that time, I knew I had feelings for you, but I was too stubborn to admit it. I thought that maybe I'm just grateful to you. You gave me hope that time, you know?"

He was talking about the time he was in a depressive state after his mother fell ill. Your song touched his heart.

You bit your lips, realizing how much of an idiot you were. All the signs were already in front of you, yet you refused to see them.

Jungkook understood your expression.

"Hey," he lifted your chin. "Don't think about it anymore. I was never vocal with my feelings."

"I never told you I love you either." You kissed Jungkook's hand. "But I hope you know it now. I hope you know I love you."

"I'm not just aware of it. I feel it, too." Jungkook was so happy he could ascend to heaven right now. "And I love you too."

As it turned out, the only thing lacking in your relationship was the expression of those three words.

Jungkook wanted to hear you say you loved him. You felt the same, too.

From now on, you'd say it until the end of time.

***

As cliche as it might sound, you could proudly say time passed smoothly. You processed the legal documents until you and Jungkook were again declared Hanni's legal guardians.

Hanni was delighted. The good news happened during her fourth birthday. She felt she couldn't ask more, especially after you relented and gifted her a rabbit.

Rabbits were said to be docile animals. Unfortunately, Hanni's rabbit seemed to hate you.

The rabbit's called Daisy. It acted all sweet and cute when Jungkook and Hanni were around, but it turned hostile around you.

You expressed your grievance to your family, but they told you were overthinking it.

Until one day...

You were so busy with work that you had forgotten to feed the poor rabbit. You rushed to its hutch to feed it, but Hanni was there caressing it.

"You don't have to feed it, Mama." Hanni hugged her pet. "Mummy Sora told me she already fed Daisy."

Goosebumps pricked at your skin at that. You screamed Jungkook's name, and he attended to you at once.

"Hanni's scaring me! She said Sora fed that damn rabbit!"

"Don't be silly." Jungkook playfully pushed your shoulder before kissing it.

"It's true, Papa. I've dreamt about Mummy Sora earlier. She said she fed Daisy already."

Another wave of goosebumps attacked your skin when you saw the rabbit's food container. It was packed yesterday! Someone had already opened it!

You and Jungkook looked at each other in fear.

Hanni assured you, "Don't worry, Mama and Papa. Mummy Sora is very nice. She said she won't scare you guys."

The little girl giggled and told you to carry Daisy. "Mummy even said she talked to Daisy. Daisy will be a good girl now. She won't get angry at you."

Truth be told, the rabbit didn't snarl at you anymore. It even cooed when you touch its tiny nose.

"Yes!" You felt victorious.

Jungkook laughed at your reaction. The fear enveloping you vanished. You looked up and silently thanked your departed best friend.

Jungkook felt grateful, too. He lovingly looked at his loved ones before looking at the ceiling.

"I have a fiancée, a child, and a rabbit. What more could I ask for?"

- END -

for more JJK fics, just visit my profile. i highly appreciate likes, reblogs, specially comments 🩵 even if it's just a simple 💛

This fic is dedicated to Trixie, a.k.a, my sister and best friend.

When the Connie in this fic said, “When you know, you know.” I FELT THAT. When we started talking, I just knew we’d be close because we’re similar in many ways, except that you are better than me. Please don’t refute this statement because ‘you being better’ makes me want to become a better person, too. You are my inspiration, my peach.

Trixie, I can’t thank you enough for all the things you’ve done for me. Thank you for being my hope this 2023. This year started shitty, but it will not end with a bad taste in my mouth because of you. I love and cherish you so much. I didn’t know it was possible to love a friend this much.

Thank you for sharing your music with me. The way the narrator describes Y/N’s voice in this fic is just me gushing over your songs. May you continue pursuing your love for music. I will always support you. I don’t know how else to thank you, so just accept this fic. I keep you in mind while writing EVERY WORD in this fic—wondering if you’ll like it, so please enjoy reading.

Thanks again.

I love you so much.

With love, Your sister.

PLEASE LISTEN TO TRIXIE (Y/N) COVER OF THE SONG HERE

[vulcajes]

🔔 The Bell Jar — domestic pregnant jily fluff!!! its my fav and there is way to little fics on this

Flora you're so real for this and also I miss you dearly

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on, love, we have to agree on a name.” James murmured, his mouth brushing against the hair on the back of Lily's head.

They were sat so cosily for all their lighthearted bickering. Lily lay across the couch, her back and head resting against James, who was curled up on the left side of it. It was a scene of perfect carelessness entwined with their love.

“James, we are not naming our firstborn son Sirius! He's already the baby's godfather!” Lily protested as she tried to keep a stern expression whilst looking up at her husband. She couldn't hold it for long, though, as a grin broke out with a short chuckle at the sight of James’ mock pout.

“But, darling,” he whined, twirling his index finger around a strand of auburn hair, “you know how much Sirius means to the both of us. And it's hardly like Alfred is the perfect name for a boy, either.”

Lily frowned at the comment made about her name choices, but chose to roll her eyes and give a harsh tug on James’ shirt instead. It had been well over an hour since they first sat down to whittle down their list of baby names and no luck had been found. All baby names from both parents were being fought for with equal amounts of ferocity. At this point, it seemed more likely that their son would have 15 different names than for the couple to agree on one. They may have looked sweet in their matching pyjamas and wedding bands, but James soon realised that marrying a woman as equally stubborn as him led to the problems they were facing now.

He sighed and pulled her slightly closer, if only because he loved being close to his wife, resting a hand on the growing bump. Just thinking about the incoming baby made him want to tear up. Lily couldn't help but chuckle whenever James got so teary-eyed. It always seemed the pregnancy hormones migrated to him.

“Oh, Jamie, are you okay?” She asked, sounding slightly teasing, but her sentiment was the same. Lily sat up and turned to face her husband. His bottom lip was already trembling as she pulled him into a tight hug.

James’ face quickly found the crook of Lily's neck and buried itself against her skin, overwhelmed by her scent.

“I'm fine, Lils,” James mumbled weakly, “you know how I get about the baby…”

Lily smiled and shook her head, knowing exactly what he meant. It was a little funny, seeing such a big and jovial man turn into a puddle at the mere thought of his unborn son. Funny, yet endearing, and she found herself falling in love with James just that little bit more as she comforted him.

She sighed softly, breathing in the strangely delightful combination of teakwood and his sweat that James’ skin always smelled like. “Oh, sweetheart, please. There's no need to cry, even happy tears.”

James shuddered slightly and sniffled as he held Lily tighter. He was always careful not to squeeze her too much, in case he ended up hurting her, but that never stopped him from holding her as tight as he could.

However the quietness of their embrace was interrupted as an idea fell into Lily's head.

“Harry… Harry James Potter.” She murmured, pulling away from James’ arms to be able to look him in the eyes. She smiled, looking up at his limpid brown eyes filled with so much love. “What do you think of that, love?”

James’ eyes lit up as soon as the suggestion was made. Harry. He liked that name. The perfect blend of their tastes; something classic and something fun. Giving their son his name for a middle name was also something that tugged at his heartstrings. It was a heartwarming homage, a gesture of love that endeared Lily to him even more. He grabbed her hand and kissed it.

“Harry. I love it. I love you.” He responded, showering the hand he held in absentminded kisses.

“I love you, too, James… pancakes for dinner?”

[queenshelby]

Yes! Mr Murphy (Rewritten)

PART ONE: ONE NIGHT STAND

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut, Age Gap

Notes/Background:

As mentioned before, I have decided to rewrite this story which is a story I have become invested in. I made some changes to the background, location and interactions between my characters so that I can follow a story outline and whilst the reader in this fic has a very specific racial and social economic background, I decided to use reference to “you” and “Y/N”. I hope no one is put off by this.

The fic plays in 2022 and, in midst of going through separation, Cillian has decided to take six months off from acting in order to volunteer at the Gaiety Theatre’s School of Acting, located in the heart of Dublin.

The following characters are relevant to this story:

Cillian (46)

In this fictional piece, Cillian is 46.  Just six weeks ago, he moved out of his material home following yet another argument with his wife Danielle who, just like him, works in the industry. She is an actress.

He now rents an apartment in Dublin while going through the initial stages of divorce and, whilst he is struggling to adapt to his new life, he knows that it had been coming. Their marriage had been in distress for the past two years, ever since Danielle cheated on him with another actor while on set.

Danielle (42)

Danielle is Cillian’s soon to be ex-wife. She, too, is struggling to adapt to the new living arrangements but has already gone on a few dates in order to get her mind of the separation.

Danielle will play an important part later in this fic.

Dermont (50)

Just like in real life, Dermont is Cillian’s friend who has been trying hard to get Cillian to go out and let his hair down.

Dermont too is married, with children, and will play an important part throughout this fic.

Nina (13)

Nina is Cillian’s daughter who he sees occasionally now that his wife makes it difficult for him to gain access to his children. Nina, however, has her own mind and does what she wants, causing some trouble for both of her parents.

Nina’s biggest passion is dancing and she attends an elite program at the Dublin Academy of Dance. The lessons take place twice per week, after school.

Nina also has a close relationship with Cillian’s mother, aka Grandma Murphy.

Max (16)

Max is Cillian’s son and spends a little more time with his father than his mother would like. At 16, he too does his own thing and, just like his father, he enjoys acting.

Kit (32)

Kit is Cillian’s personal assistant and will play a bigger part in this fic later on.

James (24)

James is your on and off boyfriend throughout this fic and attends acting classes with you.

Lorraine (23)

Lorraine is one of your friends. Lorraine also attends acting class with you.

Emma (23)

Emma is your best friend. You share a small studio apartment with her which, essentially, is all you can afford. Emma moved to Ireland with you in 2019 after you both received an international scholarship through an UNESCO project. Both of you migrated to America as children, without parents, and went through the so-called foster system there. You never found a real home back in the US and Emma was always the one who kept you in check and, whilst you were dedicated to your work, you did some things in your teens of which you were not exactly proud of.

You (22)

After having been in and out of foster care in the US, in 2019, you moved to Ireland through a scholarship program.

You are interested in literature, theatre, acting, music and, in particular, dancing.

You are an incredible dancer and teach ballet and contemporary dance to students at the Dublin Dance Academy after spending most of your days at the Gaiety Theatre’s School of Acting, learning how to act on stage.

You are in your final year of studies and your dream is to act, on stage, in front of a large audience. Unfortunatly for you though, you are rather self-conscious about your past and sometimes struggle with confidence.

What you do not know however is that your life is about too change following a night out in Temple Bar with your best friend. You will leave your past behind and become more confident with the help of someone who you never thought you could connect with.

CILLIAN’S POV

‘Common Cill! You need to get out of the house and have some fun. Let’s go for a pint. Or two…’ Dermont said to his friend as they were sitting on the couch, talking about how Cillian’s wife had caused some problems again with the children’s school. Cillian was frustrated and the exhaustion was written on his face.

He felt depressed and upset that it had come to this as, for years, he tried hard to stay with Danielle for his children’s sake. Eventually though, he gave up and this meant that he could see his children less often now, only three out of seven days per week, unless, of course, Danielle changed her plans.

After twenty years, the love was gone and so was the passion. Danielle was no longer loyal to him and Cillian had to revaluate his life at the age of 46. The two of them fought a lot and this affected the children who, just last week, said to Cillian’s mother that they were glad for the fact that their parents had finally called it quits.

Ever since their separation though, Cillian acted like hermit and stayed at home. He watched TV or listened to music, not feeling the need to go out until, eventually, his best friend had enough of it.

“I don’t know pal. I am not in the mood” was what Cillian said while Dermont barged into his friend bedroom and opened up the cabinet, looking for something for Cillian to wear.

“Too bad. We are going out. I am not taking no for an answer” Dermont responded before telling his mate to go and shower which, eventually, he did.

YOUR POV

It was Thursday evening, around 6 o’clock when you sat in the university library and packed up your books and laptop before making your way to Temple Bar. As usual, you were late and your friend Emma was probably already waiting for you.

Ten minutes later, she indeed greeted you at the door of the overcrowded pub, telling you that you were being impolite for keeping her waiting.

“I am sorry. I got caught up reading. Drama School is back next week and I need to be prepared” you said, apologising to your friend before giving her a tight hug.

“Nah, don’t apologise. I was just teasing you. I couldn’t possibly be angry at you” she smiled in response and, the truth was that, instead of being angry, she felt truly sorry for you.

You had recently broken up with James again and the break up itself was a difficult one. You were on and off, breaking up continuously, but this time you were certain not to go back to him. He had cheated on you after you had been with him for three years and the fact that he could do something so cruel broke you.

In the end, however, you stopped drowning yourself in self-pity and when Emma called you up, suggesting a girls’ night out, you agreed to join in.

Unfortunatly for you, however, your other friends, Nora and Lorraine did not come. They both attended Drama School with you and decided to see a play at the Gaiety, which was something you couldn’t afford to do. Thus, it was just you and Emma and Emma was certainly the odd one out between the four of you.

She was not in the same class with you and the others but, instead, studied fashion design worked as a bartender in Chelsea. She had dropped out of Drama School last year and was funky, outgoing and somewhat weird.

“So, are you ready to get tanked?” Emma asked as you simply stood there when you walked in, still pondering about your failed relationship.

“I rarely ever drink Emma” you reminded her and, the truth was, that you didn’t like to go out to bars and pubs either. You much rather sat at home with a good book in your hand while listening to some music.

“Well, too bad! Go and find a seat for us. We are going to get drunk and bitch about everything we hate about men, and believe me, I have a long list" Emma joked before disappearing into the crowd in order to fetch you a drink.

Just as Emma walked off, you looked around to see if you could find a table inside the crowded room but, to your disappointment, most of them were already taken.

It was a long weekend so the fact that most people were out drinking did not really surprise you and, when Emma returned with drinks in her hand, you could not help but laugh. She had purchased the most ridiculous looking cocktails, featuring both, a lot of cream on top and a Hawaiian style umbrella sticking out to the side. They were sickening to say the least but, unbeknownst to you, each of them had at least three shots of tequila.

“What is this? It looks and tastes awful” you then told her after you took a first sip from the large glass before, suddenly, you felt a slight nudge on your back which, ultimately, caused you to tumble forward and slosh your drink all over your friend’s shirt.

"Fuck” you spat as the man behind you who clearly ignored you even after running into you, so you turned around and scowled him.  

‘An apology would have been nice’ you said with frustration as Emma was drying off her shirt.

‘An apology?’ he asked with a thick Irish accent before telling you that it was you who stepped back and pushed into him and his friend.

“I did not!” you said before you swallowed nervously. “You ran into me” you then pointed out again as your eyes were drawn to the stranger’s eyes. They were several shades of blue, just like the deep of the ocean. You had a thing for men with big and beautiful eyes and despite your annoyance with this stranger, you had to admit that he was rather attractive.

He was Irish for sure. His accent was strong and his skin was pale, featuring many tiny little freckles. He had slightly greying hair which were not too short and not too long either. They looked a little messy but this style was exactly what suited him.

He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and a pair of jeans that looked a little worn around the knee area. His boots, too, were worn but probably expensive, made from brown leather and, around his right wrist, he wore a basic watch and on the other, he featured a leather band.

"Well, okay. I am sorry, alright? I don’t need an argument right now” the stranger said while you assessed him and it was obvious to both of your friend that you had caught each other’s attention. This handsome stranger was looking at you just as you were looking at him and his friend decided to take the lead.  

“Yes, my friend here can be a little clumsy at times” he said to you before shaking your hand and introducing himself.

“I am Dermont by the way and I am less clumsy than my friend here who, as an apology, will buy you a drink” he joked, causing the blue-eyed stranger to furrow his eyebrows.

“I will?” he asked Dermont who gave him a quick a but reassuring nod.  

“A drink would be nice. I am Y/N and this Emma” you said before shaking both of men’s hands and then asking for the other man’s name.

“And you? What’s your name?” you wanted to know.

“Cillian” the stranger responded and, after you told him that it was nice to meet him, Dermont prompted you both to follow them to the bar, which was when Cillian pulled his friend aside, asking him in a whisper about what he was doing.

“Helping you out with the ladies, mate. The one wearing the dress has caught your attention and there is no reason for you not to pursue her now that you are single again” Dermont whispered back while Cillian quickly shook his head.

“There is! She is in her mid-twenties at the most which is too fucking young” Cillian pointed out but Dermont was determined to make it happen anyway.

“Yeah, and? You don’t have to marry her. Just have some fun. Let loose. Take her home. I don’t know” Dermont said before making an interesting observation. “Despite, she clearly has no idea who you are so this is a huge bonus” Dermont told him before turning to you again and asking you what you wanted to drink.

“Gin and tonic would be nice” you said shyly before thanking him for the gesture.

“And your friend? What will she have?” he then asked for politeness sake but Emma was still not impressed by what happened.

“Nothing. I think I am leaving. I am all sticky and wet” Emma said angrily to the man who was looking at her somewhat dumbfounded now, which is when you spoke up and smiled.

‘Listen. She has had a bad day so, would you give us a minute please?’ you asked, not wanting the men to leave just yet.

You had your eyes on the clumsy blue-eyed stranger and, albeit the fact that he was clearly at least twice your age, he was cute, handsome and intriguing.  

“I got to go home Y/N. I smell of Tequila now. It is gross. I am sorry, but you are coming with me, right? I cannot leave you here by yourself” Emma told you quietly but you shook your head.

“Would you mind if I stayed? These guys look harmless and the clumsy one is kind of cute” you asked before glancing over to the stranger again, causing Emma to furrow her eyebrows.

“He is twice your age” she pointed out.

“And your point is?” you chuckled before you gave her a cheeky smile.

“Okay. He is attractive. I give you that. But you need to be careful, alright? He might be married or weird. Or possibly both” Emma lectured you and you raised a very important question, which clearly outlined your intentions to her.

“He doesn’t wear a wedding ring so I doubt that he is married” you pointed out before looking over towards the blue eyed stranger again and, immediately, your eyes met his. “So let’s say that he isn’t married or weird, would it be wrong if I was to hook up with him just for one night? I never had a one night stand before but he’s really hot and I really need to get over James. This could really help, you know…” you said, causing Emma to laugh.

‘It’s not wrong to have a one night stand silly. You are young and should let your hair down once in a while. James has been holding you back so I would say, go for it…” she told you, giving you the reassurance you needed.

“Now go and get him tiger. And text me if you are not coming home so that I know that you are safe” Emma then said and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her.

“Yes mum” you joked before giving her a hug and disappearing into the crowd again to follow the stranger.

***

After a minute or so, you approached Cillian again. He was holding a gin and tonic in one hand and a pint of Guinness in the other. His somewhat random friend had disappeared and, without questioning him about it, you took your drink from his hand and walked over towards a quieter area with him.

“I am sorry about your friend” Cillian then said carefully while you smiled at him and leaned back against the wall.

“It’s fine, really” you told him almost shyly as he glanced at you with those sparkling blue eyes. They were large and magical and blended in nicely with his pale freckled skin.

“Where did your friend go?” you then asked while secretly hoping that he too had taken off.

“His wife called. He had to leave and told me to apologise to you for not saying goodbye” Cillian explained and you quickly realised that this was a set up.

“Really? His wife called, huh?” you thus teased, causing Cillian to laugh.

“Yes. That’s what he said. Although, to tell you the truth, I think that he was trying to set us up so, if you prefer, we can just leave it at that and go our separate ways” Cillian then said with great honesty and your jaw dropped.

“I knew it” you then laughed in response while trying hard to look surprised.  

“How so?” Cillian asked.

“You aren’t a good actor. I didn’t believe you for a second when you said that his wife called. He told you to say that, didn’t he?” you chuckled causing the handsome stranger to furrow his eyebrows.

“I am not a good actor?” he asked. He was surprised by your statement but now knew for sure that you really had no idea who he was.

“No” you said, earning you a chuckle.

“Well, I suppose I wasn’t trying to put on an act” Cillian pointed out with laughter.

“Okay. Fair enough” you responded.  “So, are you married?” you then asked, wanting to make sure.

“Why would my friend be trying to set me up with you if I was married?” Cillian asked surprised, chuckling again.

“I don’t know, but these things happen, so I want to be cautious. It just doesn’t make sense for someone like you to be single, you know…” you stammered before realising that you must have sounded like an idiot right now.

“Someone like me?” Cillian chuckled before answering your question. “I separated from wife six weeks ago, so I am single but, to be clear, I am also not interested in dating right now” he then pointed out with more seriousness and you smiled.

“Good. Because neither am I” you explained and, after a while, you got talking about more entertaining topics like books, music and even art.

Just like you, he was obsessed with literature and theatrics. He loved music and music was what you talked about the most. You learned that he had children and you told him about having migrated to Ireland from the US.

Talking with Cillian was fun. He seemed educated and very smart. He was funny too and, after about three drinks and endless conversations, you ended up asking about his age. You were curious and learned that he was in his mid-forties but, when he asked you about your age, you lied.

“I am 29” you said, making yourself a whooping six years older than you actually were.

“Really? 29?” he asked over yet another drink and you nodded shyly.

“Yes. Why?” you asked and he smiled.

“You look much younger” he admitted and you bit your tongue. You knew that lying was wrong but you also knew that, if you had told him your real age, the night may have ended right then and there. There was no way he would have been interested in you if he knew that you were half his age.

In the end, he believed you and, within the next half an hour or so, you were both up to your fourth drink and this is when Cillian glanced into your eyes and saw some uncertainty laced with a heavy dosing of lust.

But lust, you saw in his eyes as well and it did not take him long to close the last inch of air in between you and felt you jump at the contact.

“Do you want to go somewhere else? Maybe somewhere a little quieter?” he then asked after almost two hours of talking and drinking, which, really, turned out to be exactly what you were waiting for. He had never done this before but also knew that he had nothing to lose. He wanted to take his chances with you and knew that it would, possibly, lead to more.

“Yes. Sure. Where do you want to go?” you then stammered as his eyes just dropped to your mouth again before, slowly, he leaned in, his lips just millimetres from yours now without touching them yet.

“Where do you live?” he then asked carefully, almost whispering the words into your ear and thereby testing the waters, but you knew that you could not have taken him home with you as you were living with your friend in a tiny studio apartment.

“Darndale, but my place is being renovated at the moment” you lied again. “How about you?” you then asked and he smiled.

“Not far from here” he told you with a hint of reluctance as well and, when you suggested for him to show you his place, he nodded carefully.

“Okay. Yes. Let’s get a taxi?” he asked and, once again you smiled and gave him a reluctant nod.

***

After you got into the taxi and Cillian gave the taxi-driver his address, it did not take you both very long before you finally started to make out.

The sexual tension that had built up between you was unreal and, just as you sat there, next to this stranger, like a shy little girl, his hand came to caress your leg as if this was the most normal thing to do.

He had a certainty about him which both intrigued and aroused you and, just as his fingers traced over your skin, he could feel you trembling.

As your tainted breath became shaky, Cillian leaned towards you, this time to taste the remnants of the liquor from your lips, and you let him.

His actions caught you by surprise but you gave into the kiss nonetheless. It felt good, incredible, and passionate.

After kissing your lips for a few minutes in the back of the taxi, Cillian then leaned down further and helped himself to the delicate skin along your neck. He kissed and licked and sucked at the sensitive skin until you were writhing and making impatient little sounds from your throat. He then buried one hand into your hair and attacked your mouth again, capturing those rosy red lips with his ow.

His tongue soon demanded entrance and you were in no position to refuse. Your hands grasped at Cillian’s body as you gave into the onslaught of his tongue, darting in and out, teasing and caressing until both of you were breathless. Cillian’s mouth tasted sweet and yet bitter, the liquor still lingering on his lips. It tasted so good and you wanted more.

You were moaning freely against his mouth, your hands taking on a life of their own to roam across his back which is when Cillian broke the kiss and flirting time was over.

The taxi pulled up in front of his apartment building and you stepped out together and walked through the lobby.

***

The building itself was much fancier than what you were used to and, after less than a minute, you arrived at the elevator and Cillian pushed the button. Your heart was beating fast in your chest now and, just as you waited, you turned towards Cillian and pressed your lips against his again.

Without reluctance, he deepened the kiss and began to gently probe your mouth with his tongue. His hands roamed your body, caressing and kneading and you pulled yourself up against him feeling the length of him against your leg.

It was almost like the beast within you both had been unleashed at the same time and, when the elevator's bell chimed and the doors opened wide, you both stumbled into his penthouse.

His hands were on you in an instant again and the erotic sensation of this man’s touch alone sent a quiver through your body. He was so much older than you and, yet, you kissed and caressed each other like two teenagers in heat.

“I never…you know” you stammered nervously as Cillian’s hands were everywhere as you somehow managed to find your way in to his bedroom within mere seconds.  

“You never had a one-night stand?” he asked just as you found yourself being pinned against the wall in the heat of the moment.

“No. Never” you responded, knowing very well that this was all this was going to be. A one-night stand. Nothing more and nothing less. That was what you both wanted and he made sure for you to know that before he took you upstairs.

“Do you want to stop?” he thus asked gently but you shook your head. You did not want him to stop. He made you feel good. Too good.

‘No’ you whispered eventually as you moaned with lust when his lips connected with yours again and you swung your arms around his neck, tugging on his curls.

You kissed and then caressed each other while you began to grind yourself against him, feeling the length of his hard cock through the denim of the jeans.

“Fuck. You are something else. Simply stunning” Cillian then whispered into your ear after nibbling on it gently, eliciting another loud moan from you.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this kind of thing before?” he then teased and you shyly shook your head.

‘No, but I want to. I want you to fuck me. Right now” you whispered, running your hand over his crotch and it was becoming way too difficult for Cillian to control himself now. He wanted you as much as you wanted him.

‘Good. Because I am unable to hold back much longer’ he then said before spinning you around, which is when, finally, you got a good look at where you would be experiencing your first time with anyone but James.

To your surprise, Cillian’s bed looked like something out of a magazine with a white comforter and an abundance of pillows resting against a large wooden headboard that arched backward toward the wall. Lamps on either side of the bed cast a warm yellow light around the room, making the entire space feel soft.

Just as you looked at it, the blue-eyed stranger came up behind you, kissing your neck and whispering into your ear again “let me take this off for you”

The man’s hands then went to the back of your dress where he released the zipper and, just as he did, you pushed the fabric to the floor and stepped out of it before kicking off your shoes. You were now undressed, wearing nothing more than a pair of black lace panties, and then, when you turned around to face this much older man again, his eyes went straight to your naked breasts.

‘Fuck, they are perfect’ he said almost inadvertently as he caressed your firm flesh before, finally, pulling each of your nipples slightly.

‘They aren’t too bad’ you giggled as his hands massaged your firm numbs before they wandered deeper and deeper until he made contact with your lace covered core.

“Lay down for me” he then ordered as your breathing increased with the sudden flash of heat radiating from both of your bodies. You could feel his eyes on your breasts still as you complied with his request and climbed on the bed.

“As you wish” you stammered nervously, hoping that he wouldn’t realise how inexperienced you truly were. You had only had sex with one man before and you most certainly were not in your late twenties, which is what you had told him earlier that night.

As you laid there though, you watched as the handsome stranger began to undress himself as well and, when his shirt finally came off, you could see his pale freckled skin which aroused you. His chest was covered with a patch of hair, some brown and some grey, matching the grey streaks of hair on his head. Then, there was also some hair which traced downwards from his belly button and you could not wait to see more.

‘You are fucking perfect’ the stranger told you as you looked at him with lust and hunger and, just as you thought you couldn’t get any more excited, he pushed down his briefs and revealed his raging erection to you which was glistening with precum already.

It stood up proudly and you realised that, unlike you, he was comfortable with being completely naked like this. He was bigger than James which, too, aroused you but also made you blush and panic a little.

You starred, and starred and still starred at his cock when he finally joined you on bed with a sleek smile on his face.

As soon as he landed on bed with you, his lips connected with yours again but, this time around, there was some more force and urgency to his kisses. He demanded you to part your lips and you complied, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth just far enough to touch yours.

He flicked it up and down quickly while pulling himself further into your core which, ultimately, pushed you onto the back of the bed.

Despite the heat and passion, the stranger remained rather calm and you loved that and hated it at the same time. You could not help but want to speed him up as you could already feel your heart pounding rapidly and vibrating through your chest. But he clearly had experience and knew not to rush it even despite the fact that you were both slightly drunk.

“Your lips are perfect. So soft and sweet. I could kiss you all night” the man then marvelled and you smiled as no one had ever kissed you like this, not even your boyfriend.

“You should. You are incredibly good at this” you stammered and then you shivered again as you felt his fingertips squeeze your hips.

“At what?” he asked just after you sucked his bottom lip between yours and grazed your teeth as deep as they would naturally go. You felt his jaw clench. In fact, you felt every muscle in his body tensing and then tensing more.

“At kissing me. In fact, I don’t think anyone else has ever kissed me like this before” you said shyly as your ankles were now locked behind the stranger’s knees and you didn’t remember consciously placing them there but, then again, you didn’t remember consciously doing anything since the moment you kissed him.

“That’s good. Then, perhaps I should kiss more than just your lips, shouldn’t I?” he then teased and, immediately, your hand pulled him by the nape of his neck further, right back against your mouth.

“You should kiss every part of my body” you confirmed and the stranger groaned against your lips with pleasure before moving his hands from your hips down your thigh tusking as much pressure as he could manage before he spread his fingers out as he journeyed just as ferociously back up.

“Every part you say?” he then teased as you tilted your head back, closing your eyes and using your sense of touch to the full while inhaling his scent.

“Yes, every part” you moaned and he looked up, seeing your soft closed eyes and plump lips in ecstasy and his view trailed down your neck and between your breasts.

“Very well then” he said as his hands slid around your back and he gripped the small of your back with his powerful fingertips.

The stranger soon felt you shiver and let his tongue slid up from the centre of your collar bone to the centre of your throat where he felt you suddenly gulp.

He sure was good at this, good at teasing you and he knew it too as he had a slight chuckle at your reaction to his touch and kisses.

You moaned loudly as he kissed you everywhere, which was something that sent shivers down his spine and yours. At same time, in between his assault on your tender skin, you smiled against his, trailing kisses over his throat and to his ear.

Lips and hands were everywhere now and his hands pressed firmly against your skin as he explored your body. He started at your thighs and pressed into your tight belly. He completely encased your rib cage with his large hands before lightening his touch as he began to caress your breasts.

‘Please don’t stop’ you moaned as, finally, the stranger hoovered over you and you were laying under him.

He then made it priority to grab your face with both hands and hold you in the longest, hottest kiss he knew you would ever have. He kissed down your neck and you used your strength in your arms and legs to press yourself up into his mouth until, finally, he let his tongue flick over one of your nipples.

‘God yes’ you moaned.  It was too much for you to try and keep your hands from his body and you fought to keep your hands from trembling at the least as you streamed your fingers through his hair and made a request by tugging him further into your breast. He complied willingly, for a moment but was soon lost over your long flat stomach that he could feel quiver under his tongue. It was unlike anything else you had ever felt before and he hasn’t even gotten to your sex yet.

"What are you going to do to me?” you moaned and this stranger well and truly adored how nervous you were and how much you wanted him at the same time. You were a quivering mess and his lips and fingers did not relent.

‘Well, hopefully, I am going to make you cum” he mused, making you realise that, indeed, he knew very well what he was doing to you and your body, playing it like an instrument and tuning it to his will.

‘With, uhm…what…?” you huffed out as you could barely focus your eyes as you looked down at him just as his hands melted into your panties and lifted you up by the ass in order to take them off.

“I want to taste you and make you cum with my mouth” he clarified as his face was so close to your aching core and you gave up trying to watch him when your vision blurred from the throbbing heat wave through your body.

When this handsome stranger finally pulled down your lace panties, you heard a high pitched squeal that, a moment later, you realised came from your clenched teeth.

‘Fuck, you are perfect everywhere, aren’t you?’ he then said with a low and dark voice while glancing at your aching pussy before, with the width of his shoulders, he pushed your knees apart, opening you wide for him as he kissed you just above your core, causing you to moan.  

‘You are so wet already. I can see it’ he then said and you shuddered at his hot breath against your pussy and soon felt his fingers join in, running gently over your soaking mound.  

“Oh god. Please” you then, finally, shouted, a gasp and yell all wrapped up together, as his wet tongue lapped at you, long steady strokes over your entire wetness while he held your lips open with two of his fingers.

‘That feels so good’ you moaned as his tongue circled around your clit, flicking at it, then returned lower to slide inside you as far as he could go, then back up again to your clit.

Your hips involuntarily started pushing up against him and it wasn’t long until the feeling of him pleasing you like this became too much for you to bear. Trying to hold back, you shifted and squirmed beneath him and an involuntary scream escaped you.

‘It’s too much” you moaned as he used his hands to spread you open even wider while circling your clit. No one had ever pleasured you like this before and you bucked, writhing against him as his tongue ran over it.

“I can’t, you need to stop, oh my god please” you fought with yourself, denying yourself what you craved the most. You could cum right then and there, explode against Cillian’s lips with desire, but it felt too heavenly and too intense. You did not know if you could withstand it, feeling overstimulated already.

“You can” the stranger whispered while pressing two of his fingers inside of you, pushing them right up against your g-spot as he watched you arch your back and cling on to the sheets.

“Please. I can’t…” you screamed out, moaning, your legs quivering.

“Yes, you can” he repeated with a sly smile before continuing his onslaught on your sex.

‘Fuck, oh god” you screamed again, still trying to fight your own release which felt too intense and too surreal.

“Give in to it and let me give you what you need" the stranger then told you and, with that, you knew that he wouldn’t stop until you came. So, you decided to let go for him even if that meant that you may make a fool of yourself.

As his mouth returned to your mound and his tongue kept on at you, you felt yourself climbing and climbing and climbing towards the unfamiliar feeling. And, when he finally sucked your clit into his mouth again, you were sent over the edge.

‘Fuck! Oh god! Cillian’ you moaned as your orgasm washed over you and your legs began to quiver. Your body shook uncontrollably and your hands came flying down, getting caught in the stranger’s hair, pressing him against your sex before pulling him away again.

“Enough! Please” you choked as he wouldn’t relent and continued to suck and lick until you slowly calmed down.

‘See, I told you, you could do it’ the man then chuckled and you could not help but laugh and cry all at the same time.

‘Fuck’ you gasped. ‘I didn’t expect to cum like this” you stammered nervously, causing the stranger to smile and look at you with both, admiration and confusion.

‘Then what did you expect?’ he teased before he moved up and kissed your lips hard, making you taste yourself on his lips.

‘Not sure, actually. I just never had an orgasm from oral sex before’ you stammered nervously after he pulled away from you and used his palms to spread your lips.

‘Really?’ he asked, adoring your shyness and you nodded before moving your hand to his cock.

“Really” you said while stroking his cock, eliciting soft moans from him. “But I still need you inside of me. I want to feel you” you then told him while he positioned himself between your legs.

“Do you have condoms?” Cillian then asked, seeing that he was entirely unprepared for this.

‘No, but I am on the pill” you said nervously, knowing that things were about to become real. He was going to slide into you and you were nervous about it for some reason.

‘Good’ he responded. ‘I can’t wait to feel you’ Cillian then said as he ran his hands up the inside of your thighs, sliding them toward your pussy before using his fingers to spread your labia slowly and gently, dipping his index finger inside to cover it in your slippery juices again.

‘Please. Stop teasing” you moaned as Cillian moved the tip of his finger upward to find your clit, which had grown under the excitement and was now protruding from the protection of its hood. The sweet smell of sex filled his nostrils as he made small, slow circles with his finger.

‘So impatient aren’t we’ Cillian teased while angling his length downward to touch its head against the lips of your pussy. It was like a drug to watch himself rubbing against you, coating the head of his penis in a sheen of your slippery wetness.

‘Yes, please. I want your cock inside of me’ you begged again as you thrust with your hips forward, wanting him to penetrate you and, after a little more teasing, so he did.

“Like this?” Cillian teased as, slowly, but surely, he entered you and you moaned at the sensation.

“Oh god yes, fuck” you cried as he stretched you and began thrusting in and out of you almost right away after you pushed yourself against him.

‘God you are so tight’ Cillian groaned as he watched himself slide into and back out of your pussy. His cock was shiny, coated with your natural lubrication as he began to fuck you and, soon, his thrusts became harder and faster.

‘I feel so full…This feels so good…’ you moaned as ecstasy came in quick hot waves as the stranger pumped into you and you began to moan louder than before. You experienced an uncontrollable urge to howl that you could barely hold back and the stranger then suddenly gripped you as tightly as he could manage.

You both used every muscle in your bodies to create one living, writhing creature rather than two. Eventually, you cried out too loudly though and the man took you with the deepest most passionate kiss he ever possessed as you spiralled into a lazy heap.

‘You are taking my cock so well…’ the stranger groaned after a while and then he lifted upward, prompting you to raise your knees off the bed.

‘Fuck’ he continued on as he pressed into you again and you lifted your legs completely in to the air. He grabbed your ankles and held them in the air above his shoulders, continuing to thrust with the same speed and energy as before. Bringing your feet closer together increased the tightness for both of them. Spreading your legs apart gave him the entire view of his cock sliding in and out of your pussy and provided more stimulation for your clit which is when, without warning, you came hard.

‘Oh my fucking god’ you screamed and, as the muscles in your pussy tightened around his cock, the handsome stranger slowed his thrusts leaving himself almost all the way inside you. You let out a long, loud moan again and then bent your knees and pressed them tightly together, with your whole-body quivering.

He kept his swollen cock deep inside your as he felt the muscles inside your pussy squeeze him tight. He could feel several distinct strong squeezes amidst the overall tightness. Then you gradually softened before going completely loose. He rubbed your upper arms finding that they had exploded in goosebumps. He pressed his body forward as you relaxed your knees, sliding to lay himself on top of you. He kissed you first on the mouth and then on the sides of your neck, just under your ears.

‘You look so sexy when you cum’ he then said as, over the next few minutes, he mapped out a field of kisses across your neck and collar bone. He placed his kisses like stepping-stones in a slow, connected, but wandering path. Passionate. Loving. His erection was holding strong inside your warm pussy, but he hadn't moved his hips at all and you began to kiss him back, first slowly, then more rapidly. He felt your knees lift off the bed as you slid your hands down his back, grabbing his butt. Even though he was still completely inserted, you pulled him tight against you. You were ready for more.

“Can you cum again for me?” he then asked but you weren’t sure. You never came more than once, so you doubted your ability to cum a third time.

‘I don’t know’ you admitted, but the stranger smiled.

‘Well, we will see, won’t we?’ he teased before pulling out of you after all

"I want to fuck you from behind. Common” he then said as he sat up on his knees and you rolled over and positioned yourself on all fours.

His cock had softened slightly while you had stopped fucking, but it was now back to being fully erect. He watched the tip bounce slightly as it pulsed in time with his heartbeat. It looked and felt thicker than usual.

‘Fuck, look at this pussy of yours. You are soaking’ he groaned as he put his cock in his hand and positioned himself behind you. He angled himself downward to meet your inviting pussy and then he pushed in, with one single thrust.

He felt as though he was able to penetrate you more deeply in this position and, with each consequent thrust forward, you shrieked as the tip of his cock hit your cervix.

Your bones seemed to ache from the feeling of his stomach muscles clenching hard against your back as he rutted into you. You pushed your ass back against him, and you found your rhythm, bodies slapping, panting and grunting in the dim light of his bedroom.

The pleasure was overwhelming and, every time you were about to cum, he teased you and slowed his movements.

You had both hit a plateau where everything seemed sensational but you could not last much longer.

"Fuck me hard. I want to cum again” you gasped and so he did. You requesting him to fuck your harder had provided that extra bit of stimulation that was ultimately too much. In an instant, he shifted from feeling like he could last forever and was now into impending orgasm countdown. He wanted to hold off long enough for you to cum together, and he was suddenly very close. But so were you. Again.

“Fuck, you feel so good” he groaned as he spread his knees a bit wider so he would be lower, and his angle of penetration would rub closer to your clit.

“I am so close again” you then moaned as he also shortened his thrusts so the head of his cock would come completely out of your pussy and then only go about half-way back in. He let go of your hips and bent over to cup your breasts while kissing your back.

‘Then let go for me’ he groaned as he, too, was about to explode and raised his torso back up and pulled himself completely out of your pussy.

The air of the room felt cold against his cock compared to the heat from inside you. He used his hand to rub the swollen head of his cock up and down against your pussy lips teasing you, but you pushed backwards and engulfed him again.  

"Fuck me hard," you repeated, almost yelling.

"What's that? You want me to fuck you hard?" he asked, pulling out again.

"Yes," You answered with a moaning voice. "Please."

"With this?" he asked, tapping the head of his cock against your pussy.

"Yes. Fuck me with your cock. Hard and fast” you gasped and, with that, he roughly pushed back into your wetness, spearing you on as your mind bubbling orgasm overwhelmed you.

You suddenly screamed, shivered and convulsed in orgasmic bliss and it was when you fully gave into him, that Cillian reached his high as well, filling you with his warm seed.

‘Fuck, that’s it’ he groaned as he thrusted back in. His shaft began to throb and he felt himself spurt once as he thrust in, then again as he pulled back. He continued to feel pulses of his orgasm come faster than he could fuck you now but you were past it. You were at your peak and the sensations of your pussy changed again, prolonging your orgasm, as he pushed through his own load inside of you. It was a fantastically satisfying feeling. As the pulsing continued, he wondered how much cum he was leaving inside you. It felt like a lot.

‘Jesus. God. Stop please’ you moaned as it became too much and he slowed down. His cum had leaked down his shaft and was covering the entirety of his cock, your pussy and its lips, pushing out on the sides of your tight hole as he finally withdrew from you.

After he pulled out, some streaks of your combined juices poured out of your slit and onto the sheets which, for some reason, felt incredibly satisfying.

‘Now this was not how I had expected tonight to turn out’ Cillian then said as he looked down on you with even more lust after you collapsed onto the bed, still panting and with your legs spread. Seeing his achievement aroused him all over again and he took his fingers to spread the lips of your pussy apart to get a better look.

‘Me neither’ you confirmed just as Cillian pushed two fingers into you and, you couldn’t help but shriek for which he appeared delighted.

When he pulled them out, they were covered in cum and you looked at him and yourself before reaching for his hand and guiding it to your mouth.

‘Jesus, really?’ he asked surprised as you stuck out your tongue and licked his fingers clean.

‘Really. I wanted to see what you taste like’ you winked and, just as you had sucked your combined juices from his fingers, he kissed you again passionately, tasting you and himself on your lips.

‘You are in for a long night’ he then warned you and you could see that he was already hardening again which certainly surprised you for a man in his mid-forties. He was clearly eager to make the most of this one-night stand and so were you.

With that, you both rolled out of bed and made your way into the shower for round two and then returned to the bed for round three.

Round four and five then took place in the morning and, after hours of passionate sex, a lack of sleep and Cillian cooking you some breakfast, it was time for you to leave.

‘Will I see you again?’ you asked as you were about to head out of the door. You hoped that he would be giving you his number after the amazing night you had shared but, unfortunately for you, he was true to his word.

This was nothing more than a one-night stand for him. He was not interested in dating again, nor was he ready to date anyone just yet. He told you this and that, in his opinion, you were far too young for him, though he did not even know your real age yet.

You accepted his position and kissed him once more before leaving his apartment, somewhat saddened by the fact that he did not want another date with you.

All you knew about him was his first name and the fact that he was incredible in bed. You knew that you would never see him again and, with this in mind, you soon returned to your old habits.

Over the next week, while pondering on about the handsome stranger you’ve met and shared a night with, you got back together with James. Much to the dislike of your friends, you were stuck in a cycle again and could not break it. James, once again, had a hold on you and after yet another argument with him, you made your way to Drama School on Monday with some bad temper and anger.

You enrolled into a new class and rocked up late and somewhat unprepared while your two friends were already waiting for you, in the hall next to the lecture room which is where you had to sign in.

‘Guess what?’ one of them said but you were too tired and depressed to take guesses. You were up all night again, in tears, as James was keeping taps on you and this was something you did not like.

‘I am not in the mood’ you thus said while looking through your schedule.

‘We have a new teacher for our practical work and he is fucking hot’ Lorraine said, while your other friend rolled her eyes.

‘He’s not that hot’ she said, sighing while looking at you. Clearly, you were not listening.

‘God, did you even watch Peaky Blinders?’ Lorraine then asked you both without getting an answer for you.

‘No, should I have watched it?’ your other friend then asked.

‘Yes. It is a brilliant show. He is brilliant. Hot and single’ Lorraine said like an eager little schoolgirl.

‘And old’ your other friend pointed out.

‘Y/N hooked up with a mid-forty-year-old guy a week ago and she said she had the best sex ever, so don’t knock it before you have tried it, isn’t that right Y/N?’ Lorraine teased but you did not respond. You had other things on your mind until, suddenly, you saw a familiar face in the distance, talking to the principal of the drama school.

‘Y/N?’ your friend then said, nudging your shoulder but all this did was make you drop your books. Your mouth stood open, gaping, as your eyes followed the principal and her companion.

‘Y/N! What’s wrong with you? Did you see a ghost?’ Lorraine laughed and you sure did.

‘Something like that’ you said while pointing to the principal and the handsome stranger by her side.

‘That’s Cillian Murphy. He is our new prac teacher’ Lorraine giggled and then you dropped your coffee too.

‘Fuck’ you said.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

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[the-heart-of-leo]

Have my random Lazytown Thoughts

Ya'll don't know how hard it is not to spew Norse/Icelandic Mythology all over my Lazytown headcanons.

YA'LL JUST DON'T KNOW

Like, spontaneous pregnancy was a big thing in Norse Mythology - regardless of gender. Sure, there's an incurring incident, but a second parent is optional.

And I SO WANT SPORTACUS TO ONLY HAVE ONE DAD (AF Ithro) WHO ONLY HAD HIM (And maybe GG Ithro who'se his older brother, I don't make the rules) BECAUSE HE ATE A SUSPICIOUSLY GOOD APPLE.

GOOD ENOUGH TO KNOCK HIM UP.

And like, their brand of elf used to come from the other Scandinavian lands but migrated to Iceland so they don't have holes in their backs or tails ANYMORE...

But the baby elves can have (tufted aka cow/lion) tails, as a treat, until they get older and they slowly fade away because MAGIC.

But baby elves also have tufts of fur on the tips of their ears - no mythology on that, I just think it's cute - that helps wit their balance along with the tail until they grow their whiskers (Eyebrows or Mustaches or, if the elf is says 'fuck your gender norms' both)

And also elves age slower than humans but not by much.

Also, Sportacus isn't his birthname, it's just easier for humans to say. And, this is purely inspired by the Yule Lads whose names are what they do, Elves just have that naming convention of 'The Adjective Elf'. AND AF ITHRO ALREADY USED 'SPORTS ELF' FOR GG ITHRO SO HE HAD TO COME UP WITH SOMETHING ELSE.

Also, DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH SUGAR IS IN APPLES?! ENOUGH FOR A CANDY BAR, THAT'S HOW MUCH.

SPORTACUS HAS A MASSIVE SWEET TOOTH AND FRUITS ARE MEANT FOR DESSERT! YOU CAN'T HAVE ANY UNTIL YOU EAT YOUR RAW FISH

And to throw in some Fae BULLSHIT:

Robbie is a fae but one of those NEWFANGLED ONES THAT KNOW ABOUT TECHNOLOGY.

But he's a GREMLIN which means he just ends up breaking everything. BUT STILL.

I'm not taking suggestions unless those suggestions are praise.

[theamityelf]

ignore this if you’ve already said something like this, but do you have any headcannons on Danganronpa characters with Percy Jackson godly parents.

Oooh, so like the inverse of my PJO Danganronpa AU! I haven't done that yet. I'm torn between just giving a straightforward, in-a-vacuum answer for this, and fully migrating the characters into the Percy Jackson universe and letting that inform my answer. I'm doing the latter now, but you can send another ask if you want "in a vacuum". Also, I might have a different answer if I think about it longer.

THH

Makoto- I think I want him to be a mortal, for this. I think I want it to be a Rachel situation, where he accidentally ends up involved in a quest with some of the demigods, and then he gains godly powers of some kind as a reward or consequence of helping them. I see him interning for a god, after everything is over. Maybe he's an operator for Iris. Very humble beginnings, is what I'm saying. It's wild that he keeps having a pivotal role in saving the world, and showing up in prophecies, and being approached by the gods themselves. He's not innately powerful; they just think he's neat. If I had to give him a godly parent, though, it'd probably be Hestia. Even as a mortal, I might say he has the blessing of Hestia...which is a thing I just made up, btw. If Hestia has any equivalent for Artemis's Hunters, he's one. Just a person who hangs out with Hestia and doing hero stuff with the blessings of Hestia. Instead of Artemis's values of wilderness, archery, etc., he champions Hestia's values of home, hearth, family, and safety. I feel like he's been offered immortality but turned it down. (Side option: he's a satyr. Not what I'm going with, but it's an option.)

Sayaka- My first thought is Apollo, for the arts and music, but I'm also feeling her as an Aphrodite kid who can charmspeak. Yeah, I think Aphrodite for her. Her skills as a singer and dancer are her own.

Leon- Oh gosh. Gotta be Apollo, I guess. Baseball = archery. He does both. And he thinks he can tap into his dad's musical gifts without any respect for them, which is why he fails.

Mukuro- Ares. And she has the same mortal mother as Junko. (An argument could be made for Athena, but I'm going with Ares.)

Junko- I like Dionysus's association with madness and frivolity, for her, and I do want to go with a god or goddess who very much isn't about what Junko is about, just to keep from letting her unique vibe be lost to some hand-wave about godly inheritance. I don't want to go with one of the scary-sounding ones. (Plus, if this were taking place in Camp Half-Blood, which I doubt it actually is, being the daughter of the camp director would allow her to avoid scrutiny in a lot of ways.) That's my in-a-vacuum answer. But...I think the not-in-a-vacuum answer has to be Apollo. First of all, he's Apollo in both Greek and Roman form; she has access to both "camps" in a way many don't. Second of all, I like the idea that she has a twisted version of Apollo's gifts. The gift of prophecy is the tedium of foresight. The gift of sunrise is the curse of waking– the inevitable end of comfort. The gift of art is a deadly creativity. No one thinks to pay that much attention to another Apollo kid; Apollo has lots of kids! But she's secretly very dangerous.

Chihiro- Ooh! Ooh! Hecate. Besides being the goddess of magic, she's also the goddess of crossroads, which fits Chihiro's personality and talent. (Like, imagine a computer program as a set of crossroads. Each branch of an if statement, etc.) Also, it would be cool if Chihiro can do magic.

Mondo- That has to be Hermes, right? He looks like an Ares kid, but travel and outcasts are way more in Hermes' domain. Mondo would love to have winged shoes.

Taka- For some reason I'm really getting Demeter vibes. If pressed to defend it, I can imagine someone wondering how someone so "uptight" could have a nature goddess as a mom, since nature is so chaotic, and Taka responding that animals are chaotic, but argiculture and crops are very orderly and precise. There is a right and wrong time to sow anything, a right and wrong time to reap anything. Oh, I think I'm getting Demeter from his "staple food source" line. That's it.

Hifumi- Another Apollo.

Celeste- So many ways to go about this. First of all, do I want one she would be proud of and lean into, or one she would be embarrassed by and overcompensate for? Right away, I'm feeling Dionysus for her. I even said in one of my "Kamukura Wrangler AU" posts that her eyes are wine-colored, and her self-indulgence just seems so great for Dionysus. But Nike would also be a cool one, both for her Ultimate and for how much she would hate being associated with the sports shoe brand. I can imagine a gag where Celeste proudly says "I am a daughter of Nike," and Aoi cheerfully replies, "Oooh, I love Nike's!" Celeste would be so annoyed. I genuinely can't choose; they're both so great.

Sakura- I'm not feeling Ares at all. I can see Athena, but...Sakura's strength isn't really for war. She works hard and strives for excellence, but she's a practitioner of martial arts for their own sake, not to exert them over people outside the constraints of sanctioned contest. I'm not feeling a war god for her. If I were going to put her anywhere, she'd be partway between the strategy/wisdom aspect of Athena (so, more Minerva) and the arts aspect of Apollo. I think what I'll say is that she's a daughter of Deimos, god of fear and dread, which manifests in the way others react to her. The effect wears off if someone takes the time to try to feel anything for her but fear, but a lot of people don't. She herself is very peaceable and kind, and she values her friendship with anyone who doesn't fear her.

Aoi- I think Nike makes maybe the most sense, but I'm going to give her Poseidon because I want to. Despite being able to breathe underwater, she usually holds her breath while swimming, because she likes to. She finds the challenge thrilling. If she's breathing underwater, it's usually for social reasons like talking to fish or sea nymphs. And having her intelligence underestimated is very Percy Jackson of her.

Byakuya- Oh, I'm torn. My first thought was Hades, specifically because he would be insufferable if he was a child of the Big Three (though Pluto would be more apt, because riches), but in keeping with his mortal family's whole deal, and my aim for the THH group to all be in the Greek pantheon, I think Athena is the fit for him. His father is still a Togami; Byakuya was given to his father by Athena, born from her head. That's part of his justification for his inflated sense of his own competency. Not only is he the Togami heir; he's also a son of Athena. Imagine canon Byakuya if his mother was also a goddess. He's going to be insufferable, and I'm fine with that.

Kyoko- She...So the thing is, she...She said she can hear the footsteps of the god of death, and...Once again, I'm tempted to say Hades, or perhaps Thanatos. I'll go a different way with it, though; I feel like making her dad a god feels too close to outsourcing her feelings of abandonment from Jin onto the inherent premise of the Percy Jackson universe, and I don't want to do that. Jin has to just be a mortal absentee father. (Although daughter-of-the-god-of-death Kyoko would be so, so cool in a vacuum. And her gloves could be partially because her touch can kill. AHHH!) I'm going to say Nyx. Goddess of night. Helpful for a detective (like, she can probably see in the dark and stuff), but not fully making her detective skills a direct byproduct of her godly parentage. Plus, Nyx is the mother of Thanatos, meaning her hearing the footsteps of the god of death can still be relevant. The real question is how Jin had a kid with night itself.

Toko- It's either gonna be Apollo or Aphrodite, and I'm going with Aphrodite. Toko would have a field day with "What? You've never seen such an ugly daughter of Aphrodite?!" But also exposure therapy for her deep resentment of attractive people. They're her siblings, and they care about her and defend her, even if she's kind of sour.

Hiro- Gotta be Apollo. He's great at random day-to-day prophecy.

SDR2

Hajime- I'm thinking he's also a mortal who something supernatural happened to. Maybe he was chosen as the Oracle of Delphi, or maybe he was abducted and given trace amounts of ambrosia until something weird happened to him (to create Izuru). Maybe both. Whatever the case, the answer is none, lol. I'm feeling "bored Oracle" for him.

Imposter- Um, Janus. God of beginnings, gates/doorways/transitions, time, duality, and endings. Initially, I said this because Janus is depicted with two faces and that seemed fitting for an imposter, but I think the focus on choices and transitions also suits someone whose sense of self is so fluid.

Teruteru- I think it's gotta be Bacchus for him.

Mahiru- I wish I could give her Iris, but I want this cast (except Hajime) to be Roman! So I'll say Minerva.

Peko- Bellona. Same/similar backstory with Fuyuhiko, though; she's just a demigod who got abandoned and left with a well-known family of demigods.

Hiyoko- I'm giving her Apollo for now, but I'm open to changing that.

Ibuki- Discordia, goddess of discord and troublemaking. (As you can see, I like giving the most dangerous people benign ones and vice versa.) Ibuki likes noise, she values her own uniqueness, and just generally I think this one works for her.

Mikan- Gotta be Apollo, for the healing. This means she and Hiyoko would be half-siblings, which certainly paints their relationship in an interesting way.

Nekomaru- You know what? I'll give him Jupiter. His eyebrows are lightning, and I never give him attention in my other AUs, so he can have Jupiter.

Gundham- I am feeling Diana for him. Yes, I know, but still. It's cool. The wilderness, the moon, it all just suits his vibe so well. The impact this would have on his backstory is manageable. Everything said to be the case about his mother can just be about a human step-mother.

Nagito- I kind of want to make him the Octavian equivalent. Like, a legacy of Apollo who serves as the Roman augur. Parallels with Hajime being the Oracle on the Greek side. He has a unique relationship with Fortuna that parallels Makoto's unique relationship with Hestia.

Chiaki- Going with Somnus, god of sleep. She has the ability to make others tired, but she chooses not to use it like that. Mostly, she exercises her power over herself so that she can power nap frequently and stay up all night playing video games.

Akane- I feel complicated feelings about saying this, but I really think Venus for her. The reason I feel complicated about it is that it feels too close to giving the people who mistreated her in her life a magical excuse, but I feel like even ignoring that whole aspect of her backstory, she doesn't read to me as a daughter of a war god or goddess; she reads as a passionately emotional person who is inured to hardship/loss and values strength as a result of the environment in which she was brought up.

Fuyuhiko- I'm going to say he's a distant legacy of Pluto and a direct son of Minerva. This would make him half-siblings with Mahiru.

Sonia- Daughter of Pluto. It would be cool if she could summon gems and precious metals. And she would also enjoy speaking with the dead.

Kazuichi- Gotta be Vulcan.

V3

Kaede- I almost didn't go with Apollo just because I said it so many times, but then I remembered that moment in Chapter 6 where the in-universe lore suddenly decided that Kaede had a twin, just to service a bait-and-switch about her being another Junko, and with that in mind, her also being a daughter of Apollo is just more of a connection to Junko.

Shuichi- I am feeling Nemesis for Shuichi. Goddess of retribution, evening the scales. It fits his kind of...simple? Way of viewing the world, where punitive justice isn't something that he enjoys, but rather something that he finds inevitable.

Rantaro- Hermes, certainly. The travel aspect, the social aspect.

Ryoma- He's a Nike, I think. He is burdened by victory and excellence.

Kirumi- If anyone gets Hera or Juno, it would be her. I think I will say Vesta, though. The Roman form of Hestia. She is less blessed by Vesta than burdened with the compulsion to satisfy everyone.

Angie- Ooooh, despite the obvious connections between Apollo and art, I'm feeling Morpheus for her: she knows everyone's dreams. Her art skills are just a separate thing where she practiced and got good at a genuine hobby of hers. Her demigod abilities are her insights into the minds, wants, and fears of others. Also, I'm going to say she has frequent waking dreams and waking nightmares, because it feels right for her whole vibe.

Tenko- I wanted to go Athena or Bellona, but I think I'm actually feeling Mars for her. She probably becomes a Huntress of Artemis, or works under Circe.

Korekiyo- I checked to make sure the Muses count as goddesses, and it seems they do. Therefore, I'm going with Clio, Muse of history.

Miu- Gotta go Hephaestus.

Gonta- I feel like it's got to be either Apollo or Athena for him. I'll say Athena, since his devotion to a particular study reads as an Athena kid trait to me.

Kokichi- There is a part of me that really wants to say Hermes. But I think I'll say Dionysus. Dionysus is the god of wine, parties, madness, chaos, and the theater. I think a lot of that energy is what Kokichi both thrives on and languishes in– especially theater.

Kaito- Is Astraios too obvious? He's getting Astraios. He feels drawn to the stars, and I don't think he loses anything if that feeling becomes supernatural.

Maki- Okay, she'll be a daughter of Thanatos. But she lies about it at first. And she can kill someone with a touch, but only if she chooses to, so touching her is an act of trust. (Cue sentimental moment where one of her friends, probably Kaito, touches her arm or something and she's surprised.)

Himiko- I kind of want to be subversive and not say Hecate, but I will actually give her Hecate. She would be really proud of it.

Kiibo- Well, he's a robot. Maybe an automaton made by a child of Hephaestus or Vulcan.

Tsumugi- She gets Janus, too.

[lillaydee]

The Arrangement Part 4

Pioneer! Joel Miller / Reader

Your life crumbled to nothing during a migration to Jackson, forcing you to agree to an arrangement just to survive.

NOTE: Possible inaccuracies in baby developments, food intake and inheritance or ownership laws coming. I really know nothing, but I needed to put some stuff in for the sake of the story line, so please forgive me and take everything in the spirit of storytelling yeah?

WARNINGS: Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Frontier Joel, Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Virgin Joel, Virgin Reader, Minor Character Death, Period-typical Misogyny, Marriage of Convenience

SERIES MASTERLIST

Part 3

You laid in bed for quiet some time when you woke, your worry that your new husband regretting his decision to marry you hovering like a cloud over your head.

You have a few hours ride before arriving in Jackson. And then your life with Joel will properly begin.

You could do this.

So you got up and got ready for your new life. Your parents was the happiest couple you knew. So, you decided there and then, to do as your mother did, and see if Joel was alright with that. If it was good enough for your father for twenty plus years, it couldn’t possibly be bad, right?

The camp was still asleep, save for the two agency men patrolling. You went to the stream and cleaned yourself, getting a bucket of water for Joel to clean himself with. One of the agency men started a fire for you, and the camp began to stir.

You heard Ellie fussing. You went to your new husband’s wagon, the tarp still closed. You heard him stir and coo softly to Ellie. You knocked softly on the base of his wagon, telling him you could take her. He immediately drew the tarp open, his blanket still surrounding him, his sleep-mussed face smiling at you.

“Good morning, wife.”

You couldn’t help it. You blushed and shyly mumbled a good morning to him, too. He picked Ellie up from her basket and handed her to you. Your eyes were caught on the lace handkerchief on his pillow. He noticed, his hand immediately taking the delicate material and stuffing it in his pocket, averting your eyes, his hand immediately rubbing the back of his neck, a small, shy smile on his lips.

You told him you had warmed up some water for him to wash. Was there anything you could get him to do so? He shook his head, thanking you for the water. He grabbed a small flannel from a basket by the entrance, as well as a toothbrush. You asked if he shaves in the mornings, and he said not really. He trimmed his beard every few days, but he preferred not to shave unless needed. He quickly got ready for his day, and you took a happy Ellie for a quick wash and nappy change, quickly washing her clothes and nappy so they could dry in your wagon on the journey.

When you got back to the camp, Ellie secured on your chest, breakfast was ready. Joel quickly got up and made a plate for you, taking Ellie from you while you quickly prepared something for her to eat. He fed Ellie while you ate, before eating himself. It all just felt so normal. As if you had done this with him all your life.

A good first morning, you thought.

**********

After breakfast, Lee called you and Joel over to the lead wagon, three pieces of paper in his hands. Your marriage certificate. Your name and Joel’s already filled in dated the day before, just waiting for you and your new husband to sign them.

You quickly read the details and signed your name.

Joel, on the other hand, hesitated.

You felt the blood in your head turn cold. This was it. He’s regretting the marriage.

He stared at the certificate for a long time, so much so, Lee asked him if something was wrong. Joel shook his head, and asked if he could give the two of you some time. Lee walked away to the front of the wagon, checking the horses. Joel looked at you with apprehension on his face.

“Erm, would you mind reading what’s on this for me? I don’t read too well. I can read, it’s just, I can’t do it fast enough and the big words…” He was starting to ramble, shame flooding his face.

You placed your hand on his, taking the papers from him. You read the details on the certificates, only loud enough for him to hear. When it came to the bit where it named him your husband, a wide, shy smile graced his face, and all your worries about him regretting this arrangement immediately dissipated.

He quickly called Lee back and wrote his name in big block letters down where the husband’s signatures should be, passing the papers back to him, the older man quickly signing the certificates, stamping his mark on red wax, his name and ranking clearly embossed into them, immediately rolling one and putting it in a wooden scroll, placing the cap on it, before handing it over to Joel. The second one will be submitted to the registrar office in Jackson, he said, and he will keep the third for his own record. He shook Joel’s hand and went back to preparing for departure.

Joel held the scroll solidifying your statuses as husband and wife in his left hand, placed his right one in his pocket, his head down, and asked you if you regret marrying an uneducated man such as himself. There was such insecurity in his voice and mannerism, you felt a little relieved to know you were not the only one worried about regret in this arrangement. You slipped your arm in his, and told him, never. Let’s go get ready for our new life, husband.

He heaved a very obvious sigh of relief and placed the hand holding the scroll over yours on his arm, before guiding you back to your wagon. He climbed in and helped you pack it for the rest of the journey, and you followed him into his own to do the same. The two of you worked seamlessly together, you had found, well, three, if you count the little girl merrily chirping in the shawl strapped to your chest, seemingly ordering her new parents around.

When he climbed into the driver’s seat next to you and Ellie, he placed the blanket you had used the two days before on you, tucking it in neatly around you and Ellie, his new wife and baby, before settling in, sitting much closer to you, you noticed, and clicked gently to get his horse moving. The three of you settled down for the journey to your new life as a family.

**********

When the wagons finally made it to the edge of Jackson, Lee immediately led the four wagons to your designated lands, all adjoining each other, each one marked with twine, a flag, and a small sign designating the plot numbers. Most of the plots around were taken, houses already on them, their residents going about their days. The four wagons set up nearer to the stream a few minutes’ walk down from the plots, where the land was flatter, and access to the water easier. Lee asked the men to go with him to town for the deeds, Joel going with your father’s in his possession, as well as his own, your newly minted marriage certificate along with them. The rest of the agency men stayed, helping the ladies set up, unhooking the horses and letting them go down to the stream to cool down.

By the time the men returned, the wagons were set up. Yours and Joel’s facing each other, close enough that he could hear you should you need help, and the other three wagons away from yours enough to establish some privacy. You had begun unpacking some stuff from your own, taking out the big piece of tarp your mother had brought along for temporary shelter from the sun, the corners already tailored to hook onto the poles your father had crafted before leaving. You hooked the material on to the poles, leaning them onto your wagon and waited for Joel to come back. You unrolled the rubber mat that was stashed under the wagon onto the ground before placing a patterned rug your mother had purchased just for this onto it, placing one of Ellie’s baskets on it.

Joel seemed excited at the set-up, taking the poles into his hands and began staking them into the ground at the corners of the rubber mat you had placed. He then took some twines and secured the poles into the ground further, giving the three of you some temporary shade, as well as a place to rest and eat.

He helped you get the bigger items out, the main ones being the three large, heavy wooden boxes lined up on one side of your wagon. One of them contained your father’s woodworking tools, you told him. It’s his now.

His face lit up when he opened them. They needed these tools to build, he said, they were going to purchase them, but didn’t need to now. He was so happy he lifted you up and twirled you in a big hug, making you giggle, Ellie squished between the both of you. He only seemed to realize what he had done once he put you down, mumbling an apology and a shy smile. Your face was red, for sure, but you couldn’t deny the happiness you felt seeing him so happy.

You opened the second box, filled with rolls of cloth, the ones your mother’s former employer had gifted her, she had planned to make sheets and curtains, as well as a few dresses and shirts from them. The third contained your books – it was the one thing you refused to get rid of. Joel stashed the boxes in his own wagon, wanting you and Ellie to have more space in yours to sleep comfortably. You insisted that your mother’s sewing box stayed with you in your wagon.

It took the two of you the rest of the day to unpack what was needed, the rest stored away neatly for when the houses were built. The men quickly set up some poles to tie the horses to, and some clotheslines to hang the laundry. Each camp had its own firepit, the other three camps deciding that you and Joel should have some alone time to get to know each other. By the time evening came, the entire new family was gathered around your camp, Will and Benny’s fiancées, Olivia, or Liv, as she insisted you and Maria call her and Diana bringing dinner with them as a welcome to Jackson gift.

You and Maria liked both of them immediately, both seemed suited to their intendeds well. They were very friendly and welcoming to you and Maria – they intended to go to the registrar office within the week to marry. They currently rented one room together in the tavern in town, waiting for Will and Benny to arrive. They had all met during the war, both nurses in service, got separated towards the end of their service and ended up in Jackson before Will and Benny, working in the town clinic. They both gave you and Maria big hugs before leaving, telling both of you they will see you in town the next day to show you around, all of you had made plans to go into town to get some provisions while the men sorted the materials they needed to start building.

That night, before bed time, you opened the locked secret compartment your father had built into the wagon and took out the pouch he had hidden in there. Your parents had been frugal people, and your father had planned to use the money to buy the materials needed for the house he was building. You gave the pouch to Joel, who immediately shook his head, telling you that it was yours, you should keep it. He had his own to spend, he said. What’s mine is yours, but what’s yours, should stay yours. You told him you would be living in this house too; you should contribute. Again, he shook his head, save it for yourself. You argued that it was not safe to keep that much money like that, so he said he would take you to the bank the next day while you were in town and will open up a bank account for you. For rainy days, he said. In case something happened to him.

The thought of that made your heart turn to pieces.

He helped you set up your wagon for you and Ellie to live in, unrolling your single mattress for you, the double one tucked alongside the wagon where the boxes were. He set up Ellie’s sleeping basket next to your mattress, and placed her inside, kissing her fat cheeks goodnight, the little girl long asleep from the excitement of the day. You helped him set up his own sleeping arrangement. He walked you to your own wagon, helping you back up, before kissing your hand with a soft goodnight wife, a small smile on his lips.

**********

The town of Jackson was a small one, but rather complete for its size. That morning, after a quick breakfast, the Millers, as you were all officially known now, went into town. Joel took you to the bank first thing, opening a bank account for the both of you. The teller looked a bit apprehensive that you would have access to the account, attempting to advise Joel into leaving your name out, but he would have none of it, insisting that you be given the same treatment as he in that respect. Of course, Mr Miller, the teller said, upon seeing the amount to be deposited, as you wish. Pleasure doing business with the both of you, Mr and Mrs Miller.

Liv and Diana met all of you outside the tavern where they boarded. The ladies then said goodbye to the men, who would be going to the lumberyard to purchase what they needed for the build. Joel gave you some money for provisions, telling you he would meet you back at the tavern for lunch. He kissed Ellie goodbye, cooing at her. He seemed to hesitate a little, hovering a bit too long before finally making up his mind, nodding at you before turning to leave.

The owner of the tavern, an older lady called Esther came out to say hello to you and Maria. She seemed friendly enough, telling the two of you that she ran the tavern with her grown daughter, her husband having gone out for smokes one day and never returned. You and Maria were a bit surprised by her bluntness, telling two complete strangers such a story within the first two minutes of meeting, noticing the uncomfortable looks Liv and Diana were giving you and Maria as the lady kept yammering on and on about how men were useless and that us women should never trust them.

A lady about Esther’s age was walking past your group, her arms laden with baskets and parcels. She lost her footing somehow and almost fell, her packages landing near your feet. You immediately bent down to help her pick them up, but she apologetically told you not to, you had a baby strapped on you, she said. Please don’t trouble yourself. Oh hush, you said, picking up a couple of packages while Maria picked up the rest, passing them on to her. She thanked you and Maria, introducing herself as Rose. She said hello to Liv and Diana, who said a friendly hello back, before giving Esther a glance and nodding, leaving immediately after.

“You want to watch out for that one,” Esther told you and Maria. “Keep your men away from her.” She raised her voice after Rose, “You can’t trust a woman who opens her legs for money!”

You saw Rose stop in her tracks, before walking on. Liv and Diana shared an exasperated look, before telling Esther you should get going, lots to do! Each of them quickly took you and Maria in their hands, pulling you both out, while Esther was still warning you two about Rose and the company she kept.

“Sorry about her, ignore her,” Liv told the two of you. “We had to hear that every day for months, ever since she found out we were engaged. She was convinced Rose was the reason her husband ran out on her.”

Diana scoffed, “You would think the husband would still be in town if that were the case. They said he just hopped a ride with a wagon train and left. We just try to avoid her. We had to endure her; she has the only rooms for rent in town.”

Apparently, Rose had moved to Jackson with her father, who passed away not long after. At the time, Jackson was just starting to attract newcomers, and work for a single lady like her was unlikely. She was very pretty, so men were clamoring for her company, wanting to ‘take care’ of her. So, she did what she did, and became very popular, eventually starting a legitimate business in town for lonely men passing by, and sometimes, even the locals. Unfortunately, most of these men were married, so their wives concocted stories about her to put them off. Not that it worked, but the ladies kept trying anyways. So Rose and her ladies got blamed for every single marriage problems in Jackson.

You wondered if that was the life you would have had to turn to if you had returned to the town you came from. You knew many ladies who had to turn tricks to survive, especially after they were left pregnant and unwed. She did what she had to do. Who were you to judge?

**********

The five of you walked around town, stopping at the registrar office to make an appointment for them to marry – two days from that day. You were excited for them. They seemed really happy and just wanted to be with the men they loved.

After the tour of the town, they took you to the grocers, butchers and bakers, you and Maria stocking up on provisions to last the week. Liv and Diana helped you carry your packages as you made your way back to the tavern, where the Miller men would be waiting.

When you entered the tavern, the place was full of diners. You looked around for the men, spotting Tommy, Will and Benny at one of the tables. Joel, however, was nowhere to be seen. The three men quickly got up to help you with the packages, Tommy taking Ellie from you, telling the very happy baby he missed her. Esther came and placed the meals the men had ordered on the table, Joel’s included before taking your orders as well. She inquired after Joel, Will telling her he would be right back.

“Good, that is one fine man. Don’t you fret, I have the perfect young lady for him, he will not be single for long in this town. Men like him should be worshiped,” she said, a knowing smile on her face. Everyone at the table stared at her in silence, before Tommy asked what she meant by that.

“Well, he’s not wearing a ring, you are, and these two are taken. But worry not, I have just the perfect young lady for him.”

You were too stunned to speak. Before anyone could say anything to her, Joel came back, taking his seat next to you, taking Ellie from Tommy. Ellie squealed when she saw him, happily slobbering all over him, and he gave her so many kisses and funny faces she couldn’t stop giggling.

“Ahh… look at you. Already so good with children. I was right about you young man, wait until you see this lady I had in mind for you. She’s just perfect. Just you wait,” Esther said, beaming at him.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we can’t have a handsome young man such as yourself single forever, can we?” she said with a conspiratorial smile, practically shoving her face in his.

“Actually, I am newly married. This is my wife, Elena, and our baby, Ellie.” Joel placed his arm around you, who were still much too stunned to speak, as was the rest of the table.

Esther’s face snapped. Gone was the happy, friendly lady she had pretended to be with you this morning. One who was annoyed her matchmaking plans were ruined had taken her place. She gave an exasperated huff and stomped away, returning with your food, placing your bowl so aggressively in front of you it spilled, the hot stew splashing onto your hand. You pulled your hand back, hissing in pain.

“WATCH IT!”

A booming voice filled the noisy tavern during the lunch rush. The tavern actually went quiet as a cemetery for a split second before people began murmuring and whispering to one another.

Joel had snapped at Esther. Because she spilled hot stew on your hand. Amidst the searing pain you felt, you wanted to smile, be smug. Your new husband was angry someone had hurt you.

Ellie began fussing, although, surprisingly, not at Joel’s voice. She was reaching out for you, as if wanting to make sure you were alright too. He passed her to Benny, taking your hand into his own and wiping the spill away with his kerchief. Esther seemed shocked at his outburst, but rolled her eyes and mumbled an insincere apology to you before leaving.

Joel checked your hand, asking Liv to look at it. She quickly ran upstairs to the room she shared with Diana and came back with a salve, rubbing some on the spot, which had turned red. He kept your hand in his, never letting go, worry etched across his face. Once Liv had finished tending to the minor burn, he asked for the salve from her, stood up, took Ellie back from Benny and held his hand out to you. You took it, puzzled at what he was thinking. He asked the men to help bring your shopping home, to which they nodded, all of them looked scandalized by Esther’s treatment of you, and pulled you by the hand out of the establishment, the stews untouched.

Esther came running out, calling his name, pleading for him to come back, but he ignored her. You saw her give you the nastiest look you had ever seen anyone gave, anger in her eyes.

Joel stopped at the bakers and got yourselves some pastries, lemonades and sandwiches for lunch. He didn’t say anything to you. He seemed livid. His hand never left yours, and he refused to give Ellie to you to hold. He did agree to let you strap her to his chest when he struggled to pay the lady with both his hands occupied, his anger dissipating a little as you giggled at his struggle, smiling at your giggly face before succumbing to some giggles himself. With his hands now free, he took the package from the lady, and took your hand back into his. Let’s go home, he said.

You followed shyly, rather flustered at this new form of intimacy he had suddenly shown you, letting him lead you by your good hand, running into Maria and Tommy at the door. Tommy told you that they had all decided to leave after what happened, Will and Benny helping Liv and Diana pack up their stuff to leave the tavern for good as they were speaking. Tommy was going to take Benny’s wagon when they get back to bring the girls home. They decided that the girls could sleep in Will’s wagon before the marriage, the brothers in Benny’s.

Esther, it seemed, was not happy. But don’t worry, Tommy said. We’re family, a big one, in fact. We will look out for one another. And apparently Esther was not exactly in good graces with the town either, so don’t worry about people turning on you, he told you.

Joel and you waited while Tommy and Maria got some lunch for themselves and the others from the bakery before walking home together. Joel refused to let go of your hand, and soon, you noticed, he interlaced his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand as the four of you chit chatted about the drama on the journey home. Ellie joined in, ‘talking’ at you from her Papa's chest, babbling in annoyance, Joel telling her that’s right, the nasty lady was mean to Mama, so we’re not going there anymore, are we BabyGirl? The four of you laughed out loud when Ellie gave a disgruntled ‘Mm’, seemingly agreeing with her father.

Mama. You chanced a shy glance at him, and he winked at you.

Oh, it’s hot today. Wasn’t today hot? Was your collar tight?

The men quickly hitched up Benny’s wagon, and Tommy went off to pick up his cousins and their intendeds. When they returned, all of you sat at your camp, enjoying your lunch with much laughter and joy, forgetting the nastiness of the tavern.

**********

After lunch, you set Ellie down in her basket for her nap. Joel sat facing you, telling you he has something for you. He produced something from his pocket, wrapped up in a scrap of cloth. He opened it to reveal two silver rings. He just got them, he told you. It’s not much, he said, but he hoped you would like it. You couldn’t help the silly grin that appeared uncontrollably on your face. His face mirrored yours as he took the smaller of the two rings and took your left hand, slipping the ring onto your ring finger. You then did the same for him, before lifting his hand and placing a soft kiss on his ring.

His face got really red behind his shy smile; his right hand immediately went up to rub the back of his neck. A quirk you had noticed him do every time he was shy. He looked like he was about to say something when the men came over, telling him they should go put markers on the plot, the lumber should arrive later today, and if they wanted to start first thing tomorrow, they shouldn’t delay. He reluctantly agreed.

Benny and Will asked if they could ask you a favor? They produced kerchiefs from their pockets, wondering if you could sew their initials in a corner for the wedding? They liked that you and Joel did that but didn’t want their initials to look messy, since they didn’t know how to sew well. Benny couldn’t resist taking a shot at Joel, “Look at the one he gave you,” he said, earning him a glare from your husband, which he laughed off, Joel shaking his head at how silly his younger cousin was. You simply laughed and took the kerchiefs from them, telling them they will be ready by the time they came back.

Joel came back, reluctantly telling you that he wouldn’t mind if you took off his initials from the kerchief he gave you and resew it yourself, it would look much nicer, he said. You raised yourself on your tippy toes to get closer to his ears and told him that you had a secret to tell him. Girls really liked it when the men made an effort, so no, husband, you wouldn’t change anything on that kerchief, and you will treasure it for life. He looked elated, turning to go to the plot, but hesitated again, this time turning back, giving you a chaste kiss on your cheek, whispering thank you, wife, before quickly walking away, trying to hide the pinkness in his cheeks and ears.

You chased after him, his hat in your hand, and gave him a shy kiss on his bearded cheek too, before quickly turning away and going back into your wagon to fetch your mother’s sewing box.

You didn’t see how long Joel stood where he was, his eyes stuck on the spot you disappeared into the wagon from, his hand on his cheek, the dumbest smile on his face, before Tommy’s hollering snapped him out of his lovestruck trance.

Part 5