#it’s that time of year where acrylic paint makes me cry

[vorpalghost]

Selene 🌙

[hannamoon143]

Darkness is everything that remains

ships: hyunjin x fem reader

Genre: heavy Angst, Hurt/no comfort

warnings: death,crying,kinda depression ig,denial,su!cide,drowning,

words: 1,5 k

a/n: since these are heavy themes please don’t read it if you are not comfortable with any of them,cause i don’t want to trigger anyone with my writing. I'm sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes.Remember that you are a beautiful person,and never stop taking care of yourself.Drink enough,eat enough,sleep enough. I hope you have a great day. Enjoy <33

I just wanted something. Anything. I had everything till four months ago. But now i had nothing anymore.

I was dragging myself out the bathroom, only changing into some different clothes and then laying down at the bed. Our bed. And i wasn’t wearing just some clothes. It was my sweater.My sweater with the acrylic stains on it.I was trying so hard not to look at the wall in front of the bed. But i did anyways. Of course i didn’t look at the wall, i looked at the painting.His painting.

6 months ago

„knock knock“ i said,smiling at him while my head peeked through the door. „Come in love“ he didn’t look up from his painting but he smiled too.I could watch his smile forever. The depth of his dark eyes,the way his lips slowly turned upwards.

I went inside his room and sat at the chair besides him. „What are you painting hyunnie?“ i said,peeking over his shoulder. „It’s for our anniversary love, but now the surprise is destroyed. It’s the day at the beach.A stranger that was a photograph was randomly making photos, and he had to make one of us cause we were looking so in love he said.and he gave it to me. See? We are sitting there, the oceans breeze was making our hair go all messy but you still looked so beautiful. And you are holding the single rose i gave to you.“

While he explained it i looked at the painting. It wasn’t even finished yet, but it was beautiful.The colours made it seem so alive and i could see a happy hyunjin smiling at me with a loving look in his eye, while i was looking at the rose with a little smile, like it was the most precious thing i ever got. Of course it wasn’t. He was the most precious thing i ever got.

„Well i won’t disturb you then my love,wanna watch a movie together later?“

„Sure, you pick“ he said,smiling at me. Then he gave me a soft kiss with a hug, the acrylic paint now on my sweater too,but i didn’t care.

I couldn’t look at it any longer. I got up, slipping my shoes on and left my apartment. Our apartment. Where was i even going? I didn’t know to be honest. That means i did know. As if my body was mechanical i sat into my cold car, driving to him.

I got out of the car,walking to the love of my life Then i was in front of him. The past five months i never cried a single tear,gone entirely numb.But now? I broke down to my knees,starting to sob. „Why did you do this? Left me just like that? You promised me! You promised me that we would be forever together, hyunjin!Tell me,why forever is so short.“ I looked at all the flowers. From his family.From his best friends.From people that knew him. And in the middle of all these way to colourful flowers was the rose. Our rose. It was dried,and looked fragile. I took it into my trembling hands. „When you gifted me this,you said it stands for us.For our love. Where did all this go? Where did you go?“

The petals fell down on the cold ground. „No no no. Is that you trying to tell me that it’s over?! Are you trying to tell me that hyunjin? Because i disagree! You can’t just leave me like this,i won’t accept it. Remember you always telled me i’m so stubborn?And you were right! So i won’t give up!“ I yelled between choking sobs,trying to pick up the petals of the rose.

7 months ago:

„But you said i pick the movie, so i pick 10 things i hate about you.“ i pouted.

„Everything but this!“ hyunjin whined. „We watched this movie over five times only in the past three years and if i may remind you that since i know you we watched it fourteen times wich is way too much, i think i am allowed to say that we will watch something else.“

„But i love this movieee.and we didn’t watch it in the past four months soo-“

„What about we just watch The fault in our stars? It’s also romantic, and you like it too“

„But i wanna watch 10 things i hate about you!“

„You get to see my current artwork tomorrow if we watch something else.“

„10 things i hate about you.“

„I will get you everything you want when we go next shopping.“

„10 things i hate about you.“

Hyunjin sighed.But after a bit silence when i almost thought about giving in, because he looked annoyed for real now,he started smiling and just suddenly hugged me.

„Hey,is that another attempt to not have to watch 10 things i hate about you?“ i said, but with a giggle now.

„To be honest you are adorable when you are so stubborn.“ He said,brushing my hair out of my face betweent the cuddles,that were almost choking me. I acted annoyed and looked away but just had to start smiling when he planted soft kisses on each side of my cheeks.

„I love you,pabo.“i muttered into his hair.

„I love you too,my muse.“

Was it smart to go to his grave in the middle in the night? No

Was it even more stupid to drive to the beach in the middle of the night, with only petals of a rose and a bottle of water that was laying in my car for a year now? Yes it was.

I got out the car, taking the petals of the rose, that i wrapped up in an old hoodie of him. I walked towards the water.My mind was blank.I walked until my converse were soaked up with water.Now i was simply standing there and looking at the ocean. Looking at his promise.

8 months ago:

He broke the comfortable silence,that was only filled with the sounds of the waves.

„Do you see the blue ocean,love?“

i giggled. „Of course i can see it jinnie.“

He looked at me with a little smile,laying his head on my shoulder.

„If i am ever far away,then look at the ocean. Look at the waves always coming back to the sand of the beach. They will remind you that no matter where i am, or how far away i am, i will come back to you my love. I will always come back, because i love you, i always will. Never forget that.“

I looked at him.I simply looked at him and he started smiling.

„I love you too jinnie. So, so much.“

He smiled even more,kissing my forehead softly,and pulling me closer.

„I’m looking at the waves like you told me jinnie.And now? When will you come back? Cause i saw you.Saw how they put layers of earth on you. It didn’t seem like you would come back jinnie!“

I didn’t notice that i started crying again, and almost yelling the words into the cold night. I looked at the hoodie in my hands,with the petals of the rose in it. The worst was,it still smelled like him.Without thinking i went further into the freezing water.My whole legs were covered in the freezing waves of the ocean now.I smelled at the hoodie.I wanted to feel like everything would be okay one last time.Cause i knew that it wouldn’t be. This time he wouldn’t come home, craddle me in his arms, and let me sob into his chest. This time nothing would be okay again. I threw the hoodie as wide as possible into the turbulent water. The petals of the rose seemed like they were flying until they hit the water surface. i watched them get carried away by the ocean. Was this really the end?

The answer was yes. Yes it was,because nothing would ever be okay again.I didn’t want to live in a world without him. A world without love, without care, without comfort.

So i went further into the ice cold water. I went so wide until i was underwater. The waves, and the water were turbulent, because of the storm, that i didn’t even acknowledge until now. And i felt that i got carried away. Further into the darkness,further down. But i didn’t fight the water. Because maybe there was a little hope,that maybe after the darkness he would be standing somewhere, waiting for me.

So i let the darkness come.Until it’s everything left. Until my shattered heart stops beating.Until darkness is everything that remains.

a/n: if you know someone that might consider suicide or self harm help them. Sometimes a simple word,a text or a call can help.

[snoodls]

2023 art retrospective! ✨

I can't believe I'm writing one of these again already; where did this year go??

Looking back on this past year, wow! I can see and feel my confidence with my art growing tremendously. Finally it feels like I'm comfortable with tools and the process. I'm not totally lost when I open a canvas; there's a sense of reassurance that I can do it, and if I can't, I will figure it out along the way. 

Overall, finding time, space, and energy for art proves to be both exceedingly difficult and yet the only thing that I want to do when I get home. I know logically this is mostly because of my job--new office, new boss, new responsibilities, new position--and a few huge life transitions, but when you're someone who makes things who is not making things, it can be rough seas in the brain soup.

I think a major theme for this year was getting back into creative habits. It's an annual tradition at this point to nosedive into an artist's block death spiral. February into March into April...were all lean months for my creativity. Intense job/interpersonal stuff plus news of two of my big art inspirations both suddenly dying...the world hit me hard in these months.

I owe a lot to Lynda Barry's Making Comics for giving me my spark back and for helping to heal a part of me that I didn't realize was so broken and bruised. I remember when I picked the book up around my birthday; the cashier said the book made her cry and I didn't understand. I asked why, and she said "It's just healing." I was skeptical, but now I get it. I've been observing more, giving more credence to my creativity, and being less afraid of making a "bad" drawing.

Now I've been focusing on creating portfolio pieces that I'm proud of and happy to display in my space, as well as finally getting around to my hoard of accumulated characters. I've been picking away at my personal site and uploading much more to toyhouse to keep track of them all.

The last month or so has been completely consumed by making gifts, meeting deadlines, finishing owed art, continuing special projects 👀...so I haven't had much of a presence here. I've been doing lots of traditional art--getting back into acrylic painting and hopefully back into oils soon. I started pine needle basket weaving and have made 2.25 baskets so far! it's a long, tedious, menial process, but it's so satisfying to have something physical (and functional) that you've worked on for hours. I've also been living in my sketchbook the past week--practicing with pens, markers, and practicing itself. I've been conditioned to have the sketchbook be a precious space, and I am trying my best to break out of that. If you want to see some of my traditional sketches and offline stuff, I made a little collage for this year's picks too. ↬ sketchbook 2023

I think for next year I'd like to continue finding better balances--in how I spend my time, how I can spend my time...and to continue pushing myself out of my comfort zone with experiments and messiness. I want to continue being creative in so many more mediums--more film photography and video, hopefully!

In my sketchbook I wrote this meandering paragraph that I want to share: this is a living document--of breath, of movement, not of polished stasis. I reject capitalistic notions of being "industrious" "beautiful" "marketable" "pristine" and on public display at all times. I am not a product to be consumed; neither is my work. I embrace the messy, the incomplete, and the ugly. I refuse to tailor myself to an unseen audience. We thirst for the drafts, the brushstrokes, the incomplete works of the famous. Is this because, in our minds, this makes them more human? Less untouchably great? Or do we see ourselves in the struggles and not in the finished pieces? How charitable is that reading? What I would give to see my inspirations' marker streaks, their 12yo sparkledogs. Framing these byproducts--there's that word again--as art reframes them, reframes myself. To be human is to mark-make, to scribble in the dirt. I hear they reconstruct civilizations from stuff like that.

All my best to you & yours, and happy new year!

art featured: garden ghost | Vagabonds - Aqua Fria River | 6040 elk? | i'll still be around | blue sky | umm hihihi omg hi ...? | porcelain | nothing to remember | Lacquer | river bed-time

[lexiklecksi]

15 questions, 15 mutuals (tag game)

Thanks for tagging me @captain-kraken and @novel-emma @elizaellwrites

1. Are you named after anyone?

Nope, my name is so unique that I've never even met somebody who has the same name as I do.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Probably just a few days ago ... I cry a lot when I'm stressed or very anxious. I'm currently studying for my exams, so it's a constant stage of being on the verge of crying to relief some stress.

3. Do you have kids?

Oh gosh no, I feel too young and immature for that. But I am getting married next year, so who knows what the future might bring? I can't imagine having kids yet, but I have no idea how future me thinks.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Yes, to the point where my general tone sounds sarcastic and people think I am being sarcastic when I'm actually serious, which is annoying for everyone involved in a conversation with me.

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Their eyes (You know, window to the soul) and then their hands (Do they work with their hands? Are their hands rough, soft, pretty, moisturized?).

6. What’s your eye colour?

Brown is the short answer, but let me be poetic about it because I am a writer and brown eyes deserve better descriptions:

"When the sunlight hits my eyes directly, they shine light brown with golden specks like forest honey. On cloudy days, they are hazelnut or chestnut brown, like a beautiful walk in the forest. When the light is dim, my eyes seem dark brown like melted chocolate."

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

I can't watch scary movies, I get easily spooked, and every jump scare makes me scream so loud the neighbours might call the police. But I'm not a big fan of happy endings either, I like bittersweet endings that make you swoon and mourn at the same time.

8. Any special talents?

Err not that I can think of? Does being neurodivergent count? I mean being able to recognize patterns, see little details others miss, daydream a whole book, feeling connected to the universe, think nonlinear and in many circles about 5 different topics simultaneously, talk for hours with a good friend about everything all at once. Though sometimes, all this feels more like a curse rather than special talents.

9. Where were you born?

In the most beautiful city of the world: Munich!

10. What are your hobbies?

Oh I've got too many hobbies, but they are all about getting creative and creating something. Writing poetry, short stories and rarely my ya fantasy novel, painting with watercolour or acrylics, crocheting useful stuff or stuffed animals, making jewellery, collecting stuff (sea shells, gem stones, etc.) and use it as room decoration. I don't know if designing stuff counts since it's my field of study and work, but I also like to design as a hobby. Should I show more of my creations on my tumblr blog?

I'm tagging @eos109 @azriel-alexander-holmes @soonshuas @holdenmarrswritings @silversynthesis @cirianne @simkarta333 @nerdragons-hoard @forever-and-almost-always and whoever wants to talk about themselves!

[lemon-sugarcoats-nothing]

14. 🍋 and 🐝

Question 14 of the artist asks (Im sorry ive been sitting on this one for so long aaa): How has your art changed over the years?

My art hasnt changed much honestly! i've gotten better at watercolor painting, and acrylic paints, and i'm getting the hang of digital too! - 🍋

🐝 - ...Oh boy, another long history lesson today, Strap in. To keep things a little easier on me to keep condensed, I'm only going over my traditional pony art and NOT digital art. (Im not sure how much of the digital art i could even recover anymore)

TL;DR I've gone through many phases in my art, both pony and otherwise. I started out drawing ponies in 3rd of 4th grade in a very cartoon style, then trying to copy the show style, then with anime eyes to varying success, and finally to where i am now.

Alright so long ass history lesson:

This is my earliest attempt at making my own ponysona; i was really into applejack and wanted my pony to be in the apple family! This oc didnt really go anywhere though, and i dont think i drew her again. This was also early on, before i started following tutorials for drawing ponies.

A bit later, after drawing ponies while following tutorials for a while, I started trying to draw them in my own style. At the time, I was mostly trying to draw in an anime style with my humanoid drawings, and so the big eyes transferred over. During this time, most of my drawings were in blue ballpoint pen on notebook paper or printer paper. I was drawing a lot during my (online) classes and I would fill out pages and pages like this.

While i wasnt using tutorials as often anymore, i still watched a LOT of pony drawing content. At some point, i discovered some videos that inspired me to expand how i drew even more, and i started adding more graphite and colored pencil into final drawings.

Videos in question:

-https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RSmSN3VtdD0

-https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sTyMx2H-nuI

A bit later, i also got into creepypasta drawings for mlp and some of the songs (specifically for rainbow factory), but i didnt ever read or listen to MLP creepypastas on their own until much much later. I did however, write my own two page creepypasta comic for pinkie that i never kept up. I think i intended to but after 24 hrs i forgot and dropped the project. Ironically, I tried to redraw it a few years ago as a humanoid comic, stretching it out into i think...10 pages? until my hand got tired and I never actually got to the creepypasta part of the original first comic page. (If you'd like to see, let me know! I still have them, but there would be too many images to post in this already really long post)

Oddly enough, i noticed that around this time i was also mostly drawing either creepypasta, psychotic ponies, or drawing ponies sad and crying. Just a weird little note.

I had a short phase where i drew ponies with more boxy muzzles too, but most notable here is that i finally remade a ponysona! I would keep this sona until I would stop engaging with MLP content and go through my "Ew, mlp weird" phase.

This was also from my time of boxy nosed ponies, and I think the first image was inspired off of a drawing that came up on a google search but i dont remember. I redrew it a while later, after practicing with colored pencils more. The redraw happened sometime during my "Ew mlp" phase.

And now we enter more current stuff. all these drawings are still old but are more in line with what i draw now, and were while i was starting to come out of my "Ew mlp" phase.

First image, you can see this is one of the first times I drew Lucious as a pony. At the time, in the main rp he's from he was still just straight up a demon. And in the second image is a sketch dump of the mlp characters, where i was jut getting more comfortable drawing them again. Still held onto those boxy noses though.

No style change here, but there was a time in my humanoid art where i would draw my and Mocha's characters as royalty. Then i went and drew them as ponies in those outfits! the first image you can see Cinna as an alicorn, and an early version of Lemon was just a unicorn. In the second image, was one of my first attempts to draw Jaysir! I guess its not too far off.

Last is just this pencil drawing of Lemon when their name was still Lemon Sugar-Moon! After this point, i think i took another break from drawing ponies until we come to current day where my style of drawing ponies has less boxy noses, and more pointy, less realistic and just a bit more fun for me personally :D

Who knows where my pony art will go next! Thank you for your ask and I'm sorry again that this has taken so long for me to finally just sit down and type out lol

[onmymasa22]

I am ok. I really am. I give someone my full attention. I just try to be respectful. And i want to make someone feel like they are the only ones in the world. And i felt weird after because when we talked about u, u were interested. But when i wanted to share, u were writing emails on a computer or phone or something. I can tell. So i feel like i didnt really get any satisfaction. It felt really empty like talking to someone who wasn't interested at all. I try to make everyone happy. I'm such a people pleaser. But what do i want? I talk to you when i want to talk to you. I spend so much time this year and i dont like it wjen wjen people get attached. Ive had lots of people get attached. Lots of people call me family. Lots of people gave me keys. I cant do it anymore. Its so hsard for me mentally to balance that. Maybe i have abandonment issues, so ill never let u get close. I have abandonment issues. I have lots of trouble letting people in.

What do i think about ai as an artist:

Theres ai which will take your instructions and spit out a picture. Then theres photoshop which can take any picture and make it seem painted using watercolor, palette knife, acrylic looking.

I want to do candles because that means something to me.

Song rak tachzor rotem cohen

אמא מדליקה כל יום נירות ומברכת

Oil pastel of 2 candles plus a little one

I dont have a problem with ai, and people who seek it out, but what doesnt make sense in my head is charging 300 for a print of something ai and a different program did. Is it art, maybe. Is it art worth 300 dollars? No. Not to me at least. In my opinion that's obsurd. Its paying 300 dollars for a target tshirt that should cost 25.

I want a courthouse wedding. A nice sized ring. A suit jacket and dress ill wear again. A vintage vail and white gloves. I want to give out a beautiful havdalah card to everyone with a wedding announcement.

#youreok

Compassion notes for all those who need:

It's ok to want to run away from here.

It's ok to cry all the time. Yes, also infront of the children.

It's ok to fall apart and not succeed in doing anything the whole day.

You are doing the best you can right now.

It's ok to repress and to be strong, even if its pretend, for your own reasons.

It will not be like this forever, even though it feels like it.

It's ok to be angry about the situation. About reality. About everything.

It's ok to be scared all the time.

It's ok if you cant see the horizon. It's far. But it is there

I want to be that mom who bakes. Who always has something yummy in the oven. Who greets my kids with popsicles in the summer. I want to braid my girls hair. I want to buy my boys xboxes. I want cool kids who are friendly and funny. I want to take them to the beach. I want them to see what being inlove looks like. Where i want them super close to me.

I want the degree. I can get the degree without doing the license. I can do the license when i want and then im fine. But i want to be ok. So next year, ill get an apartment, and work somewhere, and that'll b my life.

Class video 2hrs 15min

Portfolio 2hrs 15min

Sculpting 2hrs 15min

Aniam 1hr 30min

Preformance 2hrs 30min

Yael 2hrs 30min

5 דק בואו לכיתה וקצת הקדמה ללימודים לשיעור, זום, לימודים בעיקבות המלחמה

30 דק המורה העבירה מצגת- על אמנות עכשווית בעיקבות המלחמה עכשיו להשראה, ומסימה של להתחיל פרוייקט בנושא המלחמה, ודברים לחשוב עליהם בבחירה ולעשות סקיצה

10 דק עבודה פרטנית- עבדתי עם נערה על פתיחת רעיון. היא לא ידעה מה היא רוצה

סיפרתי אותה מי אני, מאיפה אני

אם היה לה רעיון מהמצגת- לא

קצת על מי עכשיו בצבא במשפחה, ושמשפחה כרגע אצלה

במה היא אוהבת לעבוד

עט ונייר

חזרנו המורות לסיכום, משוב, וביקורת

ביקורת- הייתי מוסיפה כותרות למצגת שלה, כי בלי זה מרגיש כמו טורנדו של יצירות. להוסיף מילה כ"מדיה" להפוך את זה ליותר בסיסי או מינמליסטי היה עוזר. כל המילים לא עוזרים. כי קשה להבין או לזכור מידע יחודית ספיציפי ומתומתמת. צריך משו לעשות את הזרם. בלי זה יותר מדי מילים, ואם אין זרם, ומה שעוזר ליצור את הזרם, קשה להבין מה קורה. זה דורש סדר, כי זה רועש בלי.

From the chidah and other kabbalah sources:

Rabbi wallerstein

Avrahams parents terach and amsilai slept together when amsilai was a nida. During avrahams life, he davened that theyd be in gan eden with him after he would pass away, he didnt want to be there without his parents. Dinah was a gilgul of amsilai (dinah, nidah). Leah gave up a tribe and davened for her child to be a girl wayyy after the genders were assigned. Becsuse of the super pate in the game switch, dinah had a lot of male habits (going out) and yosef had female habits (brushing his hair, looking in the mirror). Dinah was never harmed by shchem. Everyone in her family of that, the whole being abducted by shchem wasnt as it seems, everyone on the inside was aware that this was supposed to happen and that she wasnt harmed. It makes it seem like she was for specific reasons which commentators discuss. This was supposed to happen because guess what... she got pregnant and had osnat. Some say that dinah married shimon, but most say that dinah married iyov- the gilgul of terach. That they lived together in holiness and marited gan eden which avraham so wanted. Now this child, osnat, got adopted by potifar and his wife because he was very gay and she wouldnt become pregnant. Osnat had no idea what her story was, but potifar and his wife never took away a necklace yaakov gave her before that said on it "bas yisrael" in hebrew. What yosef was in mitzrayim, the single girls would throw things at him, and he was supposed to pick one and marry the girl who throw it. Well osmat threw that necklace. When yosef met osnat, he was able to tell her her whole history because he was sold after she happened. He knew hebrew, and needed a jew to marry and out of everyone in egypt in the same house as him is a girl who is 100 percent jewish and he married her and from her and him we get efraim and menashe. Leah thought she was giving away one shevet and she got two, together with rachel. This baby was the only one in all of egypt who was jewish and yosef could marry. If the story wouldve stopped after the rape, man, it cant be worse. But thats a page, and the story continues and continues and coninues and from there we will get mashiach ben yosef. From what happened with dinah. And we bench every boy that they should like ephraim and menashe. Thats so weird! Why them? Decendents of dinah and shchem- shchem was the lowest of the low. Because the bracha is- you should see so clearly the goodness that comes after bad. It should be so clear that from giving away one, youll get two, that theres a reason for everything, that a bad chapter is not a bad book, just keep going because itll get good. We remind ourselves of them to remind ourselves to move on from bad and just keep swimming.

Go to budapest hungary

Theres a war

The house is a mess

All my stuff is gone

Im exhausted

I dont know when im going back to israel

I should be married by now

I should have to kids by now

The dog keeps barking

No one is listening to me

And it just keeps going

Tomorrow's the same story

I cant do any of this anymore

Im shaming and crying

I want to be numb

Please make me numb

I cant do this anymore

[yenache]

Funky Lil Lookism Headcanons

Random list of headcannons I have collected over time in my notes app. Most of these were from last year💀.

J-High/Johan/Hostel

If he's not out there literally stopping illegal organizations, Daniel watches anime during his free time.

Zack can actually speak English decently. (Mira ONCE told him that she couldn't understand this English song and he just started learning English just so he could translate everything to her).We love a Bisexual and Bilingual king.

Mira was REAALY interested in Psychology when she was like 13-15 and Zack would be trying to impress her saying "Johan is crying. I know that something is wrong because I am an empath😌" while Johan is literally having a breakdown on the side of the room because of the bullying

Jay and Joy both collect coins/ paper bills from any country they could get their hands on.

The girls would have a monthly girl's night out where they splurge and be the girlbosses they are.

Mira had an astrology phase and would base everyone on their zodiac sign.

Sally has a secret stash of BL under her bed hhh. YOU SAW HOW SHE REACTED WHEN JAKE AND ELI ACCIDENTALLY KISSED WHILE FIGHTING. MY GIRL HAD AN AWAKENING

Zack listens Ricky Montgomery.

Eli definetly exploits the fact that he's an attractive Asian and would post shit on tiktok like "Pick your Asian🤪" or "I'm just a lonely Asian. Who wants to keep me company🥺🥺"

Warren has a tiktok account where he does pranks on hostel members(and sometimes Big Deal if he sharpened up his Jeet Kune Do skills cause boy-) but he doesn't know that the comments are laughing AT him not WITH him.

Hostel probably share one whole tiktok account where they post family stuff.

Sally, Natalie and Amy, and Derek and Max would also duet Eli and Warren's cringey tiktoks.

Zoe DEFINETLY had that acrylic painting on calculators phase and now every single person in the classroom has painted calculators by yours truly.

Johan gets cold really easily.

Jasmine probably runs an online shops where she sells cute children's clothes and other accessories and she's actually a decent mother figure to the kids.

Zoe thinks the prettiest features of a person is their smile and she finds irregular/toothy smiles really cute.

Joy is a really popular editor on Instagram and would even edit her friends.

Zack's type is definetly brown hair and puppy-like visuals.

Jay teaches Joy simple self defense moves.

Jace would tell Vasco little fun facts throughout the day and Vasco absolutely loves them.

Workers/Big Deal/Choi group

Jake would color in his tattoos when stressed. 

Everyone in Big Deal is gifted handmade scarves and lip balms by the girls from the street.

Samuel used to have a Gabpryong Kim stan account

Vivi used to secretly bring food from the mansion to Xiaolong. Xiaolong always refuses to take it.

Sinu can do a perfect Joker impression down from the mannerisms to the voice.

I have no idea how but Jerry and Johan would've been friends and Jerry would've called themselves "the pretty boy duo😎" 💀💀

Kouji likes grape Fanta and thrives off that drink.

Goo gives new suits to his secret friends every month. He always makes sure to give Samuel's clothes a size too small.

Samuel would rather get beat up by Jake than admit the fact he cried during Encanto.

Lineman would make really bad metaphors and would have to explain what it means.

Gun and Goo watch survival shows together. They loooveee the Produce series.

Gun and Goo used to post the cringiest unfunniest shit on Vine. Goo still thinks it's top-tier humor.

Kouji made one of those "cringefest vine compilations"on YouTube which was 90% of their videos.

I firmly believe Jake is still stuck on his musically phase and taught Johan 2016 slang while they were doing their shift as bouncers. You do not understand how mortified Zack was to hear Johan use 2016 slang.

Gun actually just tells everyone he meets who's at least decent at fighting that they're "wOrThy tO bE mY suCcEsSor" just to inflate their ego.

Every time Big Deal wants to recruit someone into their gang, they just chase them down until they get a yes.

And those are some of my Lookism headcannons! If you guys want some more of a specific character you can just ask me! I'm not particularly good at romance headcannons though so...maybe someone more talented can help you with that💀💀.

[liang-rexy]

I drew something about my alternate universe "Wings of the Ravens".

DO NOT REPOST OR USE. 😠

Last time I mainly talked about lines with the same thickness (@liangrexy 's 6th post), and this time I used more lines with different thickness. I basically drew lines with ink painting, calligraphy and pen drawing methods. You can see the strokes pretty clearly I suppose. Some ends of the lines, which were where I stop moving the pencil, look obvious, because I was imitating how I paint and write on actual paper. Although I don't paint very often and I really need to improve my skills, I know how it works and what I probably want. The brush I mainly used was the felt-tip pen tool, and honestly the lines has something to do with how hard I pressed the pencil against the device. When painting with an actual brush, I can hang the brush and let the tip of the brush stay on the end of a line for a little bit longer so that the water and ink can leave a pattern on the paper (to draw some lines I also need to rotate my brush). And I need to write strokes as well. As for the lineart in this post, I used techniques that are usually seen in landscape paintings. For example I drew dot leaves (pine tree needles here), which are groups of lines, to represent hair and other stuff, and I used tree branches and fabric wrinkles to draw shapes and outlines. Usually I don't colour my line drawings, so it will be nice if the lines are smooth and well-organized. If I want to colour my lineart, I can draw rougher lines theoretically (I don't really enjoy colouring my lineart now! ! ! ). 😂😂😂

I did colour something. Most of the colours I used were low-saturated. The bottom right Danny is in blue while the whole scene is basically in a red tone, so in order to achieve colour harmony, the saturation of the blue colours had to drop. The same goes for the bottom left little Dark Danny. I used the oil painting brush tool (I guess), the felt-tip pen tool, the eraser tool, and some other brushes. I drew the colours with methods of oil painting, watercolour and acrylic painting, and I didn't use that many lines. I left some brushstrokes and drew different kinds of edges because of my personal preference. Last year I often used the magic wand tool to draw this kind of art but now I realize that I can draw more quickly with brushes, although the bottom right Danny with a background still took me over two hours to draw. 😂😂😂 I think the coloured ones kind of look like prints and paper cuttings.

All plants in the picture are fictional. I just wanted to test something. I designed foliage's shapes and decorated them with branches. I have observed Cinnamomum camphora, Ficus microcarpa and some other species, and drawn a few line drawings. So I remembered something about how the branches grow, but sadly I didn't draw things very accurately. I will draw real species later I guess. 😂😂😂 SunnyTP (Lofter and Twitter) said that the dark red bushes were too saturated when we talked about colours, so I changed the bushes' colours.

The bottom left Danny's sketch doesn't have blood, and when I was colouring, I realized that I wanted to draw blood and a crying child again. I released feelings and it was cool. The blood is Dark Danny's, and I did use some horror stuff elements but I drew things in a mild way since the point was not showing something actually scary. I mix the features of several materials like hair/ fur, fire, liquid (water), clouds/ mist, plant textures and some other things together to design Danny's hair. So I can make his hair look convincing and at the same time it's clear that the character is fictional. Drawing the colourful smoke were interesting, too. One side of a wisp of smoke could have some twists while the other side could be drawn smoother.

The middle left Dannys: @suekis-stuff said my AU Dannys can lick each other and I thought that would be fine to draw so I drew the boys being friendly (or maybe not really).

There will be a few coloured chapters in the AU's comic, so I need to find proper ways to colour.

And here's one more piece of art: something about the Far Frozen people.

@liang-rexy 嘅第130篇原创文章。

于2021年9月24日发布。

[haylanmakesstuff]

First Year Zombie

One year I wanted to do something a little different for Halloween; something distinctly not-pretty at all. My brother decided to be Rick Grimes because everyone kept saying he sorta looked like him. Clearly, this only meant one thing: I was going to be a zombie. I wanted to go crusty and gross. I wanted to make people uncomfortable! 

Here is the finished product, but scroll down for more to see it in stages of creation, and one of brother as Rick Grimes!

First, I had lovely light pink hair, but I wanted to be an old lady zombie -- so that was going to have to go. I had been filming a live action Jem and The Holograms movie, but a pink haired zombie didn’t feel right.

The night before Halloween, out with the pink and in with the grey. 

I ate a big meal knowing that for half the day/night, I wouldn’t be able to eat solid food - which is very hard for me. I started with the application of the internet-purchased prosthetics: the cheek and nose bones, and the two bite marks. All silicon, which I found out I prefer over latex - the quality was astounding.

Then I applied the mouthpiece I handmade out of liquid latex, press on nails I changed to gross teeth, and tissue. All painted with acrylic and alcohol-based makeup. This would be why I can’t eat solid food the rest of the day.

The next two photos are just adding textures to all of my visible skin before painting, using liquid latex and tissue:

More textures and putting on the bottom layer of the costume (a bathrobe will go over top of this)

And then it was all about getting help from Brother to do the backs of my hands (pictured later), and then putting texture on the portion of my legs that will show. Then on to the actual makeup. I used an alcohol-based makeup for most of everything you see. It’s pricey, but dang is it nice and stays on great, too. Don’t forget little details like putting conditioner and Vaseline in your hair to make it look permanently oily, wet, and gross. 

The nightgown, bathrobe, house shoes and socks were all thrifted for very low prices, then distressed with different items like cheese graders, mud, tea, coffee grounds, etc. I wanted to MAKE DANG SURE that I was gross. I wanted to make at least one baby cry on Halloween night. We all need life goals, right?

Well, when I pondered how to be more gross than any other zombie I might see, I considered what would make people really uncomfortable. As always, the answer is poop. So, I made some pudding and used it to stain down the back of the nightgown and robe. Yeah, it was over the top gross, but it also is very realistic if you think about real zombies. 

Finishing up these details, because that’s where the Devil is, the costume was done. Here you can see the detail on the hands, as well as the press on nails I made. Thes are the same set the teeth are made out of, just painted differently. All together from start to finish, the day of Halloween makeup application took about 6 hours since it was mostly done by myself. 

And of course, a photo with Brother, Rick Grimes. These costumes were wildly successful downtown on 6th Street of Austin, Texas that year. Yes, I completed my goal of making MULTIPLE babies cry, but also plenty of adults; not all of them were drunk, which makes me feel great! The downside of this costume was that out of every costume I’ve worn (and I’ve worked at a haunted house), this costume had the most aggressive adult men try to shit talk me, get in my face, bow up for the punch, etc. Which may be unpleasant, but also means it was a very effective costume.  Why so scared, bro? It didn’t help that I stayed in character all night.

This Halloween night was rounded out when The Walking Dead official posted us to their social media pages. Made my night! In fact, we both liked doing it so much, we did another version of this costume for the Halloween after. But that’s a post for another time! 

Happy Halloween! 

Haylan

[ahoney--girl]

Taehyung

Triggers! 

Breeding kink 

Slight Dom/ sub Dynamics 

reader has a vagina 

 “baby girl”

“I missed you.” Tae hums between quick kisses around my face then leading down my neck. “Missed you more.” My voice betrays my inner anxiety and Tae hears it. He always does, no matter how hard I try to hide it. Pulling away from my neck his eyes begin to search mine. “Bad day?” He questions softly as his hands move under the oversized sweater stolen from his closet. Pulling on the edges before his hands touch my skin rubbing circles into my hips. "Was wondering where this one was.” He mentions with a soft smile. “You know the deal,” I whisper, moving my purple painted acrylic nails over his exposed tan biceps. Then up to his neck playing with the silver chain, he always wore my name written beautifully at the dip of it. “Three sweatshirts in exchange for not touching yourself without permission for the whole tour.” He recites the deal that has gotten us through the past three years of tours and comebacks. His smile grows then deflates as his eyes search my face again. “You didn’t ask permission as much this time….do you want to tell me, something love?” Tae’s eyebrows raise in question waiting for me to confess to breaking the rules. But I didn't break the rules. 

 "I didn't ask permission that much because... I've been thinking" His face deepens into a frown and concern. “What’s up, love?” A deep breath pulling in then pushes out. “I..I...I want to try something...in the bedroom…” Tae’s concern morphs into a smirk, his shoulders dropping as he leans forward again. Pushing me further into the counter his fluffy hair brushes over my forehead. His whole demeanor changed in an instant. “Tell me what you want, baby.” His voice now dropped with relaxation. That word. That's what I want. “Words baby.... Words” His voice holds humor as he turns to the side dropping back onto my neck. His lips brushing along the line not pressing down enough to satisfy, but enough to tease. “That...that word…” “mmm” He encourages. “I….want you...to want to…” Heart pumping into my throat with its speed.“..I want you to want to...with me..that word….” I chop out. His lips stop, his body freezing. My heart thumping filling the empty space. His head pulls back his eyes taking me in again. He knows what I’m trying to say. “You know the rules...I need to hear you say it before we try it...don’t be shy….baby.” His smirk then the dragging of his lower lip into his teeth biting. He knows exactly what is going through my head. But rules are rules. “I think I have a breeding kink...I want you to breed me….” 

"Fuck yes." He groans out hands tightening on my waist before pulling my front to his front. "I'll fill you up. Have you nice and stuffied. Are you barefoot and pregnant before I leave for the next comeback promotions?" Laughing a little at his instant excitement while his hands turn me to face the counter. "Laugh now love. Finna makes you cry on this dick as I fuck my cum into you, again,..and again..." "You seem like you've been waiting for this one." I whisper out his hand flatting on my back pushing me forward, his hoodie pulling up over my ass showing the bareness. "Wanted to put babies in you since we moved in together." He hums his free hand moving to my thighs gripping to pull them apart wider. "Wanted to put babies in you every time you interact with a kid." His hand moved now tracing up to cup my bare pussy. Finger pressing into my clit before disappearing. The sound of the zipper being pulled echoes. "Wanted to put babies in you every time I see you cook." His tip brushes over my pussy gathering the juices as he starts teasingly pushing and pulling just the tip."How many loads to start?" He questions. Dick pushing slowly in. "Three?...Five?" He bottoms out fully filing me. Both of our bodies shaking with the groans. "Guess that settles it...Five to start." His hips pull back just as slow as he entered the groves of his dick pushing bare on my insides. "Breed you nice and round yeah?" A soft moan bubbles in me at the feeling of his slowly targeted drags. His hand gripping and releasing my thighs in cohesion. His hand leaves my thigh, a gust of wind then his hand smacks onto my ass. The moan louder now falls from me.  His hand detached from the stinging spot. Another gush of wind than his hand spacks onto my pussy targeted to my clit specifically. "Words." He simply states. "Breed me." I moaned out without thinking of what he asked. Compression went completely gone at this point. His hips snap back into me, a long moan falls from both as his finger presses back down on my still buzzing clit. "Good girl. Good baby."

[kirindensetsu]

The Making of Fubuki

((Reposting from Den of Angels workshop thread because I wanted my friends to be able to see~))

After years of pining after dolls I couldn't afford as a broke teenager, my first BJD was a Bobobie Sprite I purchased for my 18th birthday. Unfortunately, she didn't live up to my expectations and I never really bonded with her. Her face was cute enough, but the Bobobie body lacked the grace and posing ability I imagined for the Unseelie faerie I'd been daydreaming of for years. Sueding and wiring didn't help, blushing and tattooing highlighted her blockiness, it was a mess. I packed her away and tried not to think about my disappointment for 12 years. In the meantime I learned to build and paint resin garage kits, inherited one of my sister's dolls, bought some others, took anatomy & physiology in college, and did a couple extensive restorations and full-body modifications. I was sure I had thrown her away at some point as a failed project, but last weekend I found her tucked away in a doll bag I thought was empty. Having just finished substantial mods on a Dollshe body, and awaiting an unfinished Unoa kit for my birthday in September, I decided that I owed it to her to try again. Doll nudity below the cut, looooong post--

My Sprite was originally going to be a pooka with golden eyes and extensive woad tattoos. The golden eyes are incredible, so those are staying, but she's now going to be a blue oni to fit in with the rest of my collection. My plan is to do extensive additive epoxy work, and then to use Krylon Fusion to give everything a unified finish. The goal of the project is to reduce the... idk, STRAIGHTNESS of the old Bobobie body. I was never going to be happy with it, the lines were all far too rigid.

Head: Modified mouth for a wider, smirking smile. Magnets added to headcap (old Bobobie used an S-hook iirc; I did this part back in 2008). Forehead drilled for 3mm brass rod armature, and epoxy used to sculpt horns over rod. Bust: Substantial subtractive modifications to breasts, which involved removal and readdition of nipples. Addition of epoxy clay to back and shoulders to give a more curved body line in profile. Deepening of shoulder sockets with 18mm eye bevel, followed by sanding to make shoulders narrower. Waist: Reshaping of upper torso joint into sphere for smoother range of motion. Subtraction of resin in back and addition of epoxy in front to enhance lumbar curve. Hips: Substantial reshaping of lower waist seam to more naturally follow the pelvic girdle. It reminded me of granny panties before  Added epoxy to butt, again for lumbar curve. Thighs: Suwariko joint mod (cut the thigh and added a PVC insert to enable swivelling at the hip). Added epoxy to make her thighs look less straight. Calves: Removed 1cm of length at the ankles and rebevelled the socket. Removed resin at the ankles to bring them in, and added epoxy at the calves to make them curvier. Feet: Sculpted little claws, which were cute, and then decided the feet needed to be 5mm longer. Cut across, drilled and pinned with brass rod for structural strength, gap filled with epoxy clay. I also modded her feet to have defined arches and balls back when I first got her. Alas, spitting into the ocean. I added S-hooks, but did so by drilling the ankle and inserting brass rod to form the axle for the hook. Arms: The proportions on her upper arms BOTHERED me! they were so SHORT! and I only just figured out that's what I hated about them last week! I added 5mm to the upper arms by cutting them in the middle and using SteelStik to make a structural repair (plumber's epoxy putty has a shorter open time but far greater structural strength than artist's epoxy clay). Sanded the heck out of the wrists to give them a more delicate taper. Hands: Beyond salvage. The hands were my least-favorite part of this sculpt. I tried to bulk them up to look less spidery but it was just too difficult... I've ordered a different pair of MSD hands which will have claws added, and then when everything is painted it'll all match. Thanks for reading this far! Here's a preview of what her golden eyes look like next to Krylon Fusion in Antique Blue.

((first progress post)) I think I'm mostly done adding epoxy clay (at least where it'll show; presumably the wrist sockets will require tweaks to fit the new hands), so now it's time for finish sanding. I start with 60 grit for shaping, then switch to a 120 grit sanding sponge. To check for scratches, pinholes, and inadequately feathered edges, I apply a wash of diluted acrylic paint. Once the paint has dried, I scrub the piece with a nylon scouring pad. Paint remains in the surface irregularities.

All sanded with 220 grit. I don't think I'll be going higher than 400 because I want there to be some tooth for the paint.

Any pitting in the epoxy clay that can't be sanded out is marked with a Sharpie and will be patched with Tamiya spot putty.

I did a test spray of the Krylon Fusion on the headcap and it's fantastic! Holy cow is it *poisonous* tho, I'm used to working with volatile chemicals but this was something else. Get OUT OF THE AREA between coats and leave it outside until it stops outgassing, not just until it's ready to handle.

This test piece is four light coats sprayed 1 minute apart, allowed to cure for 4 hours, and then wetsanded to remove the spray texture. It's pretty sturdy but I will wait several more days to see how it continues to cure before experimenting with matte sealants. ((progress update 2))

Haven't done much but sand-and-fill-and-sand-and-fill, but my 14mm beveller came in today so I can start deepening her elbow and ankle sockets. Added some epoxy clay to the insides of the eyewells so 14mm eyes will fit with no gap. I need a needle file to clean up the corners of her mouth... Monster feets! Nails on the right came out better than the left, still need to feather-sand everything.

Elbows progress. The early Bobobie elbows are I guess /technically/ double-jointed because the joint is a sphere with two slots, but I thought I could do better than that. You can see epoxy clay spliced in to make the sphere into a peanut: this isn't a structurally sound repair unless you pop it apart and drill/pin/glue-epoxy it back together.

View from the back. By keeping the joint heads spherical with no elbow-shaped detailing, there's some rotation as well as flexion, which I like.

Touching her face with one of her old hands. I hope the new ones come soon!

((progress update 4))

In good news, these parts are all ready for paint! It's really hard to do prepwork with no filler primer, hope I didn't miss any spots...

In less good news, her new hands arrived and they are... very smol ;u; I forgot that the new trend for slim minis means that everyone has TINY LITTLE HANDS.

They are, however, beautifully sculpted and a good 3D reference for what needs fixing and how. Bobobie palm is very short relative to fingers: I made a transverse cut behind the knuckles and added epoxy to lengthen More curved volume across the back of the hand: Not necessarily realistic, but looks a little cuter, plus it makes the transition into the cylinder of the wrist look less stylistically jarring. More defined joint angles: Some of these I did via cut-and-thermoform repositioning, mostly I'm aiming to fake it by building up and carving away at the weird smooth curves. The fingers are just TOO SKINNY: But obviously I'm not going to squish rice-grain-sized blobs of epoxy to the fingers, right? It's too fiddly, it doesn't want to stick. What's the solution? Brace for a truly hideous WIP image--

"AAAAAAGH WHAT IS THAT DARK GRAY MESS" it's JB Weld epoxy! It's like load-bearing, slow-curing modeller's putty! Slathering putty onto an armature and then carving it away to refine the shape is how anime figure artists make hands and detailed hair.  I was thinking about it from a polymer clay technique/perspective so I missed the obvious solution. Hand in the foreground has more layers than the hand in the background, every layer gets the shape a lil closer. ((progress post 5)) Parts set up on sticks so I can handle them without touching...

... and after 4 light coats!

Closeup of the head, lil' glossy because it's still drying. For the deeper areas like the joint slots, mouth, and the crannies of the ears, I'm going to have to decant some of the paint into a jar and apply it with a sacrificial brush.

((progress post 6)) I return from Depression! I finally finished sanding-and-spraying the Krylon Fusion coats, gave her a last polish with microfine to even out the texture, and have started blushing her. I'm using a mixture of Tamiya X-series acrylics applied via airbrush for basic contouring, then I'll go back in with pastel to add warm tones and details.

Fun discovery: in an attempt to cover some accidental overspray, I tried spraying the Fusion directly into the paint cup of the airbrush and using it to "erase" back to the base color. I'm NEVER using this product straight from the can again, it goes on so smooth and gorgeous from the airbrush! No orange peel or bubbles to sand away. I'm seriously tempted to get a can of pink and try blushing with it.

((progress post 7)) Doing a faceup over a spray-painted substrate is HARD I want to CRY. I talked about sanding out the spray texture to get an untextured surface, right? Welp, didn't/couldn't sand well enough in the corners of the mouth and the folds of the eyelids, so it's crusty-looking with pastels over it and now there's nothing I can do about it that doesn't involve stripping down to resin and starting again.

((final post)) Sueded and strung!

I didn't take pictures of the sueding process because I was using Barge Cement and it is messy and time-sensitive. I used masking tape to make templates of her joints, transferred to some thin gray lamb suede I found on eBay, and glued it fuzzy side out. The suede was thicker than real pliver, more like the thickness of silicone KIPS discs, but I think it worked out without too many fit issues. The trim store had 3.5mm elastic in a beautiful slate-blue color that I thought would look nicer in the joint slots, so she's strung throughout with thicker elastic. Some more poses to show off the functional mods~ Suwariko joints let her sit crosslegged, and more mobile wrists let her put her hands into the pose.

A more ball-and-socked shaped contact surface at her waist lets her slouch at a full range of angles instead of being locked into two.

With longer upper arms, she can reach the ground in this pose! You can also see how the modded waist joint lets her cock her hips.

She could always stand with locked knees. I think she needs some wire in her legs to let the suwariko joints hold their rotation against gravity, but I'll see how the elastic tension settles in first.

A parting shot out the snowy window. We've been having a hard time picking between a few names for her, but I think this settles it. Welcome back, Fubuki~

[1oserjk]

— full stop | 03

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.  

a series.

a messy divorce, unrequited feelings, and a five year old. 

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

02 ⇋ 04

x full stop masterlist | x masterlist

shit is 16k .. sry 

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

full stop | 03: unhappy birthday

Hyejin has always been a ball of fury when you poked at the wrong buttons on her. But something about Jungkook and the aftermath of the divorce has made her even more apprehensive of the man, and you can only do so much to shift her opinions elsewhere.

“Fuck him over. Somehow, someway — just do it.”

You choke.

Eyes widening, sputtering out, “H-Hyejin..” 

“I’m not kidding,” she deadpans, already rolling up her sleeves, “How many times do I have to tell you that fucker will never learn?” 

A hand comes up, “Okay wait.” You pause. “Are we going to collectively forget Jungkook is my daughter’s father?” 

Her head shakes. “Not relevant—and also hard for me to care when it comes to him.” 

You exhale, eyes fluttering closed and palms resting flat on her kitchen table. “Look, I know he’s not the most liked between everybody right now. But, I can’t just tell him no.. That’s not fair.” 

“But there’s boundaries,” she points and argues, then prompts, “What kind of outcome does he expect when he goes out with the one person who caused most of the mess two years ago.”

Your eyes roll back. “She took a micro-portion of it.” 

“Her presence was still there and highly significant if I'm judging from most of the nights you came to me for!” 

“Hyejin.” You glare. 

“And don’t even try to do That Thing where you deduce your own valid feelings and assume everybody else’s choices and actions are reasonable when it’s clearly not!” You glare and she blatantly ignores it, waving you off, “And I know you’re keeping everything within yourself for the sake of being a better co-parent, or whatever fucking advice you read in the facebook group you’ve recently planted yourself in, but god. I’m mad, anyone would be mad, so let me be mad for you.” 

“No one is going to be mad about this,” you finally decide. “There’s nothing to be mad about. He is his own person and he can make his own decisions.” She pins her stare at your nails that you pick at. You feel it. “Even if it means going out with someone younger, more exciting, who prances around with a pen in her hand as if she’s really doing something useful all the fucking time for whatever goddamn reason. I could care less,” you can’t help but mutter under your breath shortly after. 

“Ha!” One of her acrylics poke at you and you flinch. “You are mad.” 

You groan out loudly. “I’m not mad,” you exasperate. “All I’m saying is for him to have at least decent taste if he’s going to date. Not someone so expectant after a divorce.” 

Her eyes narrow. 

“But that’s not the point,” you make sure to add right after. Fingers run through your hair and you sigh. “Look,” you ease gently. “I’m trying to be alright in this, okay? The last thing I want to do is stomp in like a madwoman and refuse a relationship that would’ve happened sooner or later.” 

Of course, she disagrees. “God,” she stands, grabbing both of your mugs and heading to the sink. “You’re turning into one of those Milf’s that stand by to live, laugh, and love—it’s grossing me out.” 

Your ears perk at attention and you smile smugly. “You think I’m a Milf?” 

“Shut up. You’re flattered.” She turns it on to soak both of your cups before the coffee sticks. “I only dropped by to tell you that it’s okay to freak out once in a while.” 

The only reason she’s been keening on you to go apeshit in front of your ex-husband, was the frantic phone call you left on the night of ditching Jungkook in your own kitchen. Being that she was here now, claiming that Kiumin ached for a playdate with Yeona, when in reality, her only goal was to scold you for not swinging at the doll Jungkook pranced around with as of late. 

She puts a hand on her hip and leans towards the counter. “Turning to corny coping mechanisms like following a Bob Ross tutorial isn’t going to fix your rage you’ve been pushing down.” 

“Okay, but that’s only because Jungkook still has some of his supplies laying around and the only thing I could come up with was painting a fucking sunset. Sue me,” you defend, throwing your arms up. “Besides, you weren’t there to see him, Hyejin. He was getting out of his office for once, smiling even, a-and it was different. A good different, and..” You’re completely at a loss, mouth opening, then shutting back closed, because what was even the point. 

“..You don’t want to take that away from him,” she finishes, a tilt to her head and a consoling expression gracing her features. 

“Exactly,” you exhale. “I can’t even be mad that she’s actually getting him out there, taking him to things that didn’t involve work. Something I couldn’t even do-“ 

“Hey, no,” she stops you, head firmly shaking. “No, you don’t get to do that. You were there and present, even on the days you were close to giving up before you actually did — you were there, trying your absolute hardest, clinging onto what he barely gave you. You were never the problem, okay?” 

You meekly nod, tired eyes on her when she takes a firm hold of both of your hands. 

She makes it clear, saying, “As a wife and a mother, you were always there and that is something nobody can take away from you.”

“I know,” you confess. “I’m just in a weird position right now, and I’m stressed out from it. Not mad—stressed.” 

“And you don’t have to be, alright?” She shakes on your shoulder. “I know I insisted on breaking some plates and screaming, but hearing you out, I’m sure you would rather stray from the subject as a whole.” 

“Please.” 

“Alright. I’ll get out of your hair for now, and if I come up with something to do for us that doesn’t involve egging someone’s car—“

“Hyejin!”

“—then I’ll let you know.” 

You huff out a breath and finally stand, entering into her arms she spans out. “I’ll always be worried about you, babe.” 

“I know,” you mumble, “And I’ll keep telling you I’m fine every single time you ask.” She pinches your side that earns a loud yelp from you and a hiss of pain a second later. 

“Love you.” 

“Always,” you promise and then remind, “Please save some space for Yeona’s birthday that’s coming up, and be prepared for any phone-calls beforehand of me crying because my baby’s growing up and I have no control to slow down time for it.” 

“Ah, that’s right,” she says. “Tell me if you need any help planning, alright?”

“Of course.” 

“Kiumin, baby,” she calls out, heading towards the living space, “Buddy, let’s go. We gotta get home before dinnertime.” 

Both of your children are on the floor, several toys in front of them and a television with brightly lit characters and colors that did not have to be at a high-volume as it was right now. 

“Aw,” the little boy pouts, “Okay.” He turns to your daughter and waves hesitantly. 

“Bye Kiumin,” Yeona yells out, clambering across the floor to get a hug. Short arms wrap around tiny figures and it’s absolutely adorable. Your eyes can sense a hint of red on Kiumin’s cheeks when your daughter’s hands tug tightly onto his. “See you soon, maybe.” She shrugs. 

“Don’t worry, Yeonie,” Hyejin promises. “We’ll meet up again soon.” 

At that, Yeona nods enthusiastically and shuffles herself forward for another hug directed towards your best friend. “Bye, aunt Hyejin.” She receives a soft pat to her head. 

“Be safe on the way home,” you order. 

They make their leave swiftly, and it finally gives you time to properly breathe—and think for a long while. 

-

Tiny fingers pinch the paper in between them, a determination set in her eyes as she excitedly jumps around in her seat. “It’s done,” she announces. 

Your eyes resemble a wink when you squint at her, sun shining way too brightly for it to be this early in the morning. It practically reflects Yeona’s attitude in starting the day like this, while you sit pathetically in an oversized shirt and coffee in hand. 

Taking the time in the morning for yourself was barely a thing, especially when it came to your daughter and her way too early sleep schedule her school had willed her on. 

Instead of sleeping in, you’re dealt with Yeona already being wide-eyed in her bed, making grabby hands at the toys in her bedroom you’ve put the time in cleaning up on the floor from the night before. 

Even staying home in her matching sweats her father had gifted her, she would still request her hair up and out of her face for the rest of the day. So, you’d be taking fifteen minutes to slick her hair up in her choice of a ponytail or pigtails instead of preciously sleeping in. Even right after, she’d become hungry, wanting breakfast to go along with her cartoons she had downloaded on her tablet. 

Which was perfectly fine, you’d be up soon anyway, so it would be better overall to just start the day off a bit earlier. It would only just leave you a bit off-looking and disoriented in the things you’d do for yourself. 

Years back, when Yeona was younger and you were still married, the routine was easier and much steadier when you would tag-team in getting ready for the day, passing off your daughter after one task would be done for the other and it would be your own turn for yours. 

At first, it left you frazzled when you were alone most days, but now, since the separation has settled in, it’d been okay for the most part. It just meant that some of the things and time you put aside for yourself were sacrificed, and that you would have to save your self care routine for later in the night when Yeona would flutter her eyelashes closed for slumber. 

You excitedly clap a few times and reach eagerly. “Can I see?” 

Yeona’s birthday was reaching close and for most of them, you would be able to know exactly what she’d want for that particular year. Normally, it would be a themed party of whatever she had been obsessed with at that time, and obviously the gifts you would drown her in. Last year went with a breeze. You were glad at that time when most of the conflict between you and Jungkook had faded when the time came, solely focusing on your daughter and that was it. But now, with the way things had left between the two of you recently, you were worried it wouldn’t be the same as this year. 

Yeona had declared she wanted something different this year and decided that she’d write it all out in a list. Still unsure and a bit confused, you complied and set out her supplies for her to take over on the paper. It was only fifteen minutes after she claimed that she was finished. 

Leaning towards her paper, you expected it to be drowned in color and design, taking the same artistic habits as her father. But to no avail, it was left blank. 

Your brows furrow. “I thought you were done?”

She nods. “I am!” 

“So.. Where—“ You awkwardly left off, wondering if she was hiding it beneath the table or behind her back. She giggles when you curiously dip your head under the tabletop. 

“In here,” she points. A single finger pokes at her head and she proudly smiles before explaining, “The list is in my head! If you read all of it at once, then it wouldn’t be fun, so I’ll tell Mommy the first thing now and the rest for later.” 

Your mouth opens in a sound of realization, and your eyes glint at how clever she became. “So,” you excitedly lean towards her more, landing a soft peck on her forehead. “What does my baby want for her birthday?” 

“No party,” she firstly says with a firm shake to her head. 

Your eyes widened. “No party?” Since the beginning, it’s always been one. 

“Nope.” Her lips purse out with a crinkle to her nose. “Mommy,” she says, eyes twinkling. “I’m growing, so big girls don’t have parties.” 

You hum, “Is that so?” 

She nods dramatically. 

“So what would you want this year?” 

“I would like to ask if we could have my birthday at Uncle Jin and Joonie’s beach house.” 

Your brows shoot up. “That’s all the way in Jeju..” 

She nods. “We could all take the ferry!” Then, she pouts. “We never go on the ferry.” 

Her idea runs through your mind for a few seconds before theorizing with her, mindlessly murmuring to yourself, “We could take the one in Busan and visit Grandma and Grandpa on the way..” You were sure they would want to see Yeona on the day of her birthday. 

Her eyes brighten when she picks up on your mumbles, grappling your wrist and shaking it, “Yes, Mommy! We’ll take everybody, like, Daddy’s co-workers and Kiumin!” 

It seems that you were already confirming the idea instead of considering it, though it all seemed like a perfect idea that wouldn’t take a lot of effort or stress. You can already imagine the small gathering for the weekend getaway, already knowing how much the others would like some time off, especially the guys that would always be cooped up in the suffocated shop filled with needles and ink. It would be a nice way of switching a few things up and catching up with the rest of the inner circle you’ve accumulated from the time of being with Jungkook. 

“Well,” you start, “Let me have a conversation with your Daddy and then maybe,” you halt when she begins to turn giddy, “Maybe it will happen. But he’s going to have to ask Uncle Jin and Joon if it’s alright, so it's honestly up to them to decide..” 

“Okay,” she quickly obliges, confidence set in her tone and smile, telling you that she was completely sure of her idea and their compliance to it.

-

“Of course!” 

Jungkook’s head drops down in embarrassment while you sit across from him, mouth almost gaping. 

“S-Seokjin,” you sputter. “You barely even gave it a few seconds to think about.” 

He shakes a hand back and forth, “Why would I need to?”

“You can’t just..“ You lead off hopelessly. Turning to the lanky man next to him, you raise a brow. “Namjoon?”

“Fine by me,” he says over a mouthful of noodles, “We barely even use the house, anyway.” 

“O-Okay, but-“ 

“We should go a week before the date to check up on it,” Seokjin suggests to Namjoon. 

“You’re right, just in case anything is out of place,” he replies. 

“The fireplace should be okay, right? I heard it rained last weekend.” 

And then they fall into their own conversation, leaving you and Jungkook, the real parents in this situation — silent. 

“I guess.. It’s happening?” You squeak out. The expensive couch sits uncomfortably on your bum, and you grow sweaty from being left to bask in the tension between the man across from you. It’s awkward, almost dragging on since you’ve entered the flat and sat down with Jungkook.

You were thankful at first, when Seokjin had butted in the conversation, boyfriend in tow. 

The last time you’ve encountered your ex-husband, were only the past few weeks of dropping off Yeona on his days off, stoically handing her to him and running off until you would have to pick her up again. 

It was childish, you knew that. You knew it exactly when you turned your back to him and completely shut him out three weeks ago. But at this point, it was the only way you were able to cope with however you were feeling about him, and simmering down most of your anger. But seeing that you would have to deal with him sooner rather than later, being that Yeona’s birthday was coming up, you were reluctantly willing to face him. 

“Yeah, I don’t think we have a choice,” he chuckles, palms nervously rubbing against his knees. A small part of you is definitely basking in the way he squirms under your scrutiny. 

“It’s fine,” you say, “This was the biggest part of Yeona’s list, anyway. She really wanted this.” 

He offers a quirk to his lips, and your heart immediately seizes, having to force yourself to stop looking at him so obnoxiously. It’s gross, really, how you’ve managed to be so affected by him - good or bad, since the very start. 

A throat clears, and it’s Namjoon, one hand stuffed in his pocket while the other on Seokjin’s lower back. You grow curious if he noticed. “Tell Yeona we can have her birthday at our house in Jeju.” 

“Thank you, really—to you both. She really wanted this, and for you guys to be there too.” 

“Of course, we’ll send a message to the rest that they’re invited.” 

With a smile, you stand and wrap your arms around both of them on your way out. “Thank you, again,” you can’t help but repeat. They only chuckle in your tight grasp that clearly proved how grateful you were to them.

“I’ll walk you out to your car,” Jungkook offers when he stands. 

You shake your head, “It’s alright. I took a bus here.” 

“Then, I’ll drive you back.” 

“Jungkook, no, it’s okay-“ 

Already disappearing into his room, he makes a grab for his jacket and shoes to head out. 

Seokjin chuckles when you whip around to face back the both of them, “Stubborn.” 

You’re breathless when you repeat in stress, “Yeah.” 

“Have a good night, _____.” Namjoon and Seokjin simultaneously wave, sending you both out the door. You embarrassingly let out a light laugh, waving back and wishing the same for them. 

You rush to the side of Jungkook when they disappear. 

Nobody talks, even until you’ve reached his car, unlocking the doors and allowing you to slip in the passenger side. 

He got the vehicle shortly after finalizing his move out of the house, offering the one you previously shared and owned. You didn’t have much of a choice when he slipped the keys in your hand and left shortly after without any argument. You were more nervous that if you pushed more for him to take it, he’d go out and buy you a new one the next day. 

For Jungkook driving the sleek black car everyday, it practically seems unused, leather seats still having that particular smell and everything still being tidy around it. Then again, Yeona is now older and less messy than before. 

Everything in the car is so exactly him, and you weren’t quite sure how to feel about it. 

After buckling up and properly settling in, he slides the keys in the slot, leaving you to stare at the hanging car accessory up at the rearview mirror. 

It’s a picture of you and Yeona, laid out on the floor. You remember the memory clearly, Yeona declaring a tickle fight and sprawling out on the floor for a fair match. Even with Yeona sat on top of you, it seemed that you were winning in the game with how her head was thrown back and a wide grin on her face, you could practically hear the squeal she was letting out in the picture. 

He still had it. 

For a second, you smile back at it. 

You barely even notice the car already moving and him asking the question, “Why didn’t you drive?” 

Your head flicks to him, and your eyes stay right at his jaw when he makes a smooth turn. You shrug, “It was nearby, I didn’t mind.” 

“You should’ve told me,” he says, “I would have come home instead of you travelling all this way for me.” 

Home. He still called it home, like it’d be any day now for him to return to it, that this was all a temporary fix until everything would get less foggy. 

“It’s fine,” you pass off. “I didn’t think you would see the offer as worthy since Yeona is at my mom’s place right now.” 

His head shakes, turning away from the road to catch your eyes for a split second. “I don’t need any reason to see you, _____. Just tell me, and I’ll be there.” It’s with vigour and promise, you almost turn flustered. 

You let out a small scoff before looking down at your hands. “If you said that a long time ago, we would’ve still been married,” you joke, though it comes out bitter. “Thanks for the offer, though,” you sarcastically add. 

The car suddenly halts and you look up, the red traffic light flashes in front of you. 

Jungkook shuts his eyes before tiredly letting out a sigh. 

You grow anxious, looking out the window from the side. Some of the restaurants and shops are surprisingly still open and you focus on the windows with bright lighting inside of the buildings. Friends and couples are eating out, some are laughing, and you wonder what some of their conversation consisted of. You surmise it’s something foolish when one of them throws their head back in a fit of laughter. 

Your hands grip each other when a pair from the opposite side of your vision pucker up and kiss. It turns personal way too quickly and you immediately feel like you're intruding, grateful that the light turns green and you finally move away from the intimate image, wondering if you would ever get close to that phase of your life again.

The silent minute brings you to announce abruptly, “We’re going to take the ferry in Busan instead of here, so that she would be able to see your parents before leaving.” 

“Sounds fine,” he replies. “My mother would like that.”

You nod. 

“What about yours?” He suggests.

You sigh, head hitting the headrest of the seat softly. “Another detox trip. They said they would send her a birthday card before they would leave. Probably why they’re spending as much time with her as they can before they leave.” 

Even with eyes on the road, he still seems to be listening intently. He hesitates a few seconds before asking, “How’s your dad?” 

You send him a smile, the least you could do before answering, “Still hates you.” 

He snorts. “Yeah,” he says, “I figured.” 

You swallow tightly and decide to ask, “How’s settling with Seokjin?” It’s been a couple of years, but still, it all still feels new and something you haven’t gotten around to asking ever since. 

He hums, “It’s quiet most of the time since he’s at Namjoon’s nearly everyday..” 

“The place is practically yours then,” you attempt to joke again, but it comes out as hardly, not exactly comfortable to throw that specific tone around.

He shrugs. “Wish he would let me pay more than half of the rent, but it’s tolerable.” 

“Are you ever planning to get your own place soon?” 

“Huh,” he thinks. “Haven’t put much thought into it.” 

“Well, if you ever do, I can always help out,” you quietly suggest and he takes a quick glimpse at you to see if you were actually being serious. 

“Really?”

You nod. “Yeah. I actually think it would be cool for Yeona to have a second room at your place. So it’s home over there for her as it is with me.” 

Another red light, and his eyes blink close for a moment. The conversation is going too fast and all of a sudden, it starts to hurt. 

Jungkook doesn’t want another home, a place that reads that he is officially separated from you and out of his reach, not when it doesn’t include you in it. 

It would hurt him even more if you would egg it on, support him and the move away from you, like you would want him to, and maybe you really did. He would understand why. Still, it hurts when you talk so freely like this, seemingly eager to get rid of him.

Jungkook doesn’t voice his disagreement, avoiding talking at all and keeping his mouth closed instead. 

The conversation falls off after that, and he most likely figured that would be the most he got out of you for the rest of the car ride. 

That was until you spoke up again. 

It was quiet, almost barely heard, and it’s said quickly. “You can invite her, you know?” 

His fingers unknowingly grip on the steering wheel. 

You look back down. “I don’t mind and I don’t want you to think that I’ll hold you back from doing so.” 

They want to reach out, grasp for your hands you keep fiddling with, scold you for biting on your lip too harshly, everything he used to do, he wanted to fall back and do it all at once. 

They keep clinging to the wheel. 

“I was mad back then,” you guiltily admit and he immediately shakes his head. 

“You had every right to be.” 

“I probably looked silly for being so mad on something I have no control over.” You move your eyes back over the window and the blurry images that pass by solemnly. “Especially when everything’s been said and done with, right?” You turn to him and he gulps. His heart drops at how quick and firm you said, as if it was that easy. 

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. 

“Maybe this is a learning curve for us,” you nod to yourself. “So, I’m open to having her with us this year.” 

He had no idea why you were so sure that everything between Seol and himself were solid enough to introduce her as his girlfriend, fuck, even he wasn’t sure he could spit the word out himself. 

Everything was going by way too fast, too much to process. 

He only nods, clinging onto actions rather than words to speak for him. 

His throat clears and the car slows down to a clear stop. You peak over his head and find your house already being presented as the car decreases in speed. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” is all he says.

“Well,” your buckle releases and you slide out onto the edge of the seat, already gripping onto the handle. You offer him a smile. “Thanks, Jungkook.” 

The door opens and he stiffly nods and doesn’t pull out of his spot until his own two eyes have watched your figure disappear into the entrance of the house. 

-

“Did you double-check that you have everything?” 

She nods. 

“Okay, then I think we’re ready.” You clap, zipping up the rest of your bags. 

She can’t even stand still with her excitement, having to run around at times when it got too much. 

Ever since the beginning of planning this weekend trip, you surprisingly had a lot of time on your hands from the immense help of everybody else who volunteered to plan. You were glad that they reached out, but you also became antsy at the fact you had no control over the outcome of this gathering. In anything that Yeona wanted, you strived to make sure it would happen with reasonability. Being away from most of the planning had left you anxious on most days, wondering what Seokjin would be pulling under his sleeve on Yeona’s celebration. 

“Here.” You hand her backpack to her, silently ushering her to turn around so you could slip it through her arms. “Sit on the couch and watch your show for now. Your father will be here soon to pick us up.” 

She complies easily, shuffling towards the cushioned chair. 

Before she becomes too absorbed in the cartoon, you ask a mindless theory for her to answer, “If Daddy shows up with a friend—that is a girl.. You’ll be nice, right?” 

Her head tilts and her brows crease. “Girl—friend?” 

Your fingers tighten against the hem of your sundress. “M-Maybe? I’m not sure, he hasn’t told me a lot about her..”

“That’s not right,” she notes. “Daddy should tell Mommy so she knows..” 

You send her a softened smile that holds a sad shift in it. “Not this time, baby.” You look down at your hands. “Just be nice to her, okay?” 

She only nods. 

You brush off your knees when you stand back up, moving back towards your room to grab whatever else you might’ve forgotten and rush through most of your makeup bag to fix yourself up a bit. 

You debated a few times in your head to switch up your dress for another one in your bag. Usually, you never cared, but this time, oddly, you wanted to satisfy more than yourself with the way you currently looked and dressed as - for whatever reason you cannot decipher as. But having to change, you would also have to switch out Yeona’s dress since you both decided to match today. 

You decided not to bother since it would take too much time, especially since you hear the buttons being pressed at your front door, buzzing when the code punches in and indicating that Jungkook was finally here. 

You quickly pull and clip on a necklace that was mindlessly set on your bedside table, and rush out the room with your bags. 

When both of them come into view, you already see Yeona attached to Jungkook’s hip. No one else. 

“Hey,” you breathlessly greet with a nod, trying not to seem blunt by focusing on the front door to see if a certain person tagged alone. “I hope this isn’t too much—? I cut down most of it last night..” 

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it,” then looks down at the bags, “But—uh, are you sure you need all of this? It’s only a couple of days.” 

“Yeah, but,” you hesitate, pushing some strands of your hair away, “It’s clothes, swimsuits, sunscreen, shower products, presents—“ 

“Presents?” Yeona brightens. 

“No,” You and Jungkook rush. 

“Mommy meant something else..” 

“Oh.” Her expression flattens. “Then what did she mean?” She presses. 

Jungkook’s mouth gapes and he attempts to spit out an answer before you boisterly interrupt, “Oh no! We’re running late.” 

He nods comically when he meets eyes with you. “Y-You’re right! Let me take your bags,” he offers. 

You practically shove them into his hands when you switch positions, taking Yeona into your own and softly letting her down. 

When you stand up straight, he eyes the both of you in awe when he notices. 

“You’re both matching.” 

You grow heated under his gaze and shyly nod, straightening out the flimsy skirt of your dress. “She’s been hounding me to get a mini size for her when I wear mine, so this was her first gift from me.” 

Her tiny hands cling onto your fingers and squeezes them, “Yup! We wanted to look pretty for Daddy.” 

You practically choke out a small cough at her statement as he arches a brow towards you, your cheeks dusting a shade of embarrassment immediately. 

“T-There was no set intent for doing this exactly,” you defend with a growing pout before you childishly point at Yeona and sputter, “It was her idea and I just went with it.” 

He chuckles, encouraging the dusty rose to spread to your ears and neck. “Well,” he starts and confirms, “You both look beautiful.” He’s already turning away and moving towards the door before you can react. “I’ll compliment you more when we get in the car, but we should hurry.” 

You both scurry in front of him, and a firm hand lands on the small of your back to lead you out. Whipping around slightly, you turn surprised from the mere gesture. 

A certain feeling washes over you — it’s nostalgic, almost drowning you from the blunt force when his fingers land on only the thin material that separates your skin from his. For a second, it feels like what it has always been. 

Even as false pretense or even reassurance, you bask in the feeling you can only assume is melancholy and warmth, all at the same time. It’s bittersweet, but it’s something and it’s clearly there.

He offers a smile, and it’s not a polite one you usually send each other when you would interact, it’s not a forced one either. It was genuine, and it was towards you. 

A smile that read this weekend would be a memorable one, like all of the other birthdays you celebrated each year. 

For a split second, you feel like a family again. 

The door clicks shut and you finally all head out to fulfill Yeona’s birthday journey. 

-

“God,” he rubs at his shoulder that aches. “What did you pack in here to make me feel like this four floors down?” 

Rolling your eyes, your daughter’s leg brushes against you when it kicks up for the minute of buckling her up. You don’t bother asking her to stop, silently allowing her to start playing with your hair when you lean over the other side of her carseat. You adjust her sandals while you’re at it. “We took the elevator, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” 

“You weren’t the one carrying it,” he argues, shutting the trunk closed. 

Finally finished with making sure Yeona would ride safely in the backseat, you recover your crouched form and rise. “You offered.” 

He sighs, hands on his hips, and a smile creeping on his face he managed to halt before your eyes would land on them. “You never answered my question.” 

Both of you make it to the front of the car and slip in, shutting the car doors simultaneously in coincidence. 

You wave a hand in dismissal before reaching up for the seatbelt. “It’s a few gifts for your mother. She really liked the scent of the apartment when she last visited, so I packed a few candles of the ones I’ve been using.” 

“A few?” He scoffs, pinning you a look. The car begins to run when he slides the key in the slot. He has a hard time believing in your estimate of the amount you were bringing when he picks up weights on a regular basis at the gym, not boasting when he clearly can’t help mentioning it every now and then. There were way more than a few.

You hesitate, observing him shift the gear and backing the car up and out of the parking space. “Fine, I slipped in a few more for Seokjin,” you confess and it’s clear that he has a smug smirk carrying his expression. “Only because he asked,” you huff.

A light chuckle slips out and his fingers on the center console almost twitch when he hears you let one out also. 

You abruptly turn towards the backseat. “Yeonie? Please turn down your tablet.” It Had been ringing in both of your ears since you got in the car. You wanted to have a proper conversation without having to scream out your words over the rhymes and overplayed sound-effects. 

When she does, you finally sigh and lean back in pure exhaustion from the lack of sleep the night before. 

Jungkook notices. 

“You okay?” He asks. 

Your eyes flutter open slowly and you nod. “Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, so I’m dealing with the repercussions of it.” Your gaze on the road soon turns blank. 

If you were being honest, it’s been a long time in dealing with enough sleep. If you were in bed, you were most likely staying up, keeping yourself busy, not deeming it as a good enough reason to sleep just yet. Before, you slept easily, paying no mind to what was happening around you, you actually slept. Something changed to the point where you weren’t granted that access anymore, having to question the exact reason on why you should even sleep. You weren’t sure if you would find it, sticking with just coaxing yourself into slumber through most nights. 

“You can take a nap if you want,” he suggests. “It’s going to take a while before we get there, so you might as well.” 

You hum absentmindedly, barely registering any of his words if you were being honest. 

Yeona yawns. He shifts his attention to the back, watching Yeona squirm for a comfortable spot - as comfortable as she can get - in her carseat. “Are you sleepy too, baby?” 

She mewls out a tired noise in confirmation and leans her head to the padded side of hers. “Daddy, sing to me,” she requests, blinking, lagging until they fully close.

Jungkook’s soft hums fill up the noise of the car other than the white noise surrounding you when he drove. 

Your eyes go back to closing when it hits you, a metaphorical blanket that deems where you were, what you were doing, and who you were with — as safe. Your brows furrow unconsciously at the thought that you’ve been dealing with this specific problem about your sleep for God knows how long, but Jungkook suddenly fixes it and now it’s all gone. 

You finally sleep. 

-

An hour  into the drive and you suddenly ask, “Is she.. Driving on her way too?” 

His eyebrows furrow and he turns to stare at you, disoriented by the question. “Who?” 

You eye him wearily and tip your head forward, like it was obvious. 

He’s still confused. 

“Seol?” You finally spit out. 

“Oh.” 

That’s all he says and you grow impatient. “So?” 

“She’s not coming,” he finally answers. “I didn’t invite her. Why would you think I would?” 

“She wasn’t in the car when you picked us up, or at the house, so I just assumed..” 

“No,” he quickly denies, looking you in the eye this time. “She’s not coming.” 

“Oh—okay.” You wonder why. 

It’s silent except for when his throat clears and he turns the car. 

“Um,” you drag unsurely. “Are you.. Still—seeing each other?” It’s personal, and you regret asking, but for the sake of your bouncing leg and bated breath, you wait. 

“I—I don’t know? I mean we’re going out, but it’s not anything official.” He looks nervous, eyes shifting back and forth from one side of a street to another. 

“So.. You haven’t asked her to be your girlfriend yet?” 

This is weird. Too fucking weird and now Jungkook’s acutely uneasy because there is absolutely no malice in your voice. Just curiousness being unravelled.

“No, not really,” he nervously stammers, and he tries his best to gauge your reaction but you hold absolutely nothing to read on. “I want to decide carefully.” You suddenly stare back at him and he has no choice but to continue, “Like you said. I want to make sure it’s right. No fuck-ups anymore. Not with you or Yeona.” 

Your head shakes. “Jungkook, you don’t have to-“

“It’s my decision,” he firmly states, “and it’s on my terms.”

-

Jungkook’s mother was always a bright soul who greeted and welcomed you with open arms. 

The first time you were off to meet her, you were twenty-three years old and absolutely terrified, and you made sure to tell Jungkook that before you even stepped foot in the house he grew up in. 

You informed him how much bad luck you came with when it involved meeting your partner’s parents. More specifically — your past boyfriends and their overly clingy mothers who did not like you no matter what you did, as long as you were dating their son. 

“My mom loves everyone,” Jungkook explained previously the night before the anticipated meeting. 

You shook your head vigorously, eyes wide and anxious, shivering from having the thought of reliving something you always dreaded. “That’s what they all say before we end up arriving and then all of a sudden I’m being pounced on by an overbearing mother who obviously can’t stand the thought of having another woman in her son’s life.” 

He laughed. “Your exes were probably an only child,” and then continued to inform as if it would ease your nerves, “I have an older brother.” 

You shrieked. “Holy shit, that makes it even worse because you’re her youngest. The baby of the family—her baby.” He cackled and you landed a solid strike at his arm with a whine, “Jungkook, Take me serious.” 

“Alright, okay,” he shushed you and tugged at your hips before closing in on you. “I can assure you that my mother isn’t some type of villain you’ve painted out in your head.” 

You winced and patted his chest with a pout, “Sorry. Past minor trauma.” 

“I get it,” he reassured. “But she’s different than the rest, I promise.”

And she definitely was. 

The house fills with a scent of something cooking on the stove top and it immediately engulfs you in warmth when you hear the television going off in the spacious area of the living room, assuming it was Jungkook’s father planted on his signature chair he was always found in. 

When Yeona finally kicks off her shoes, she immediately runs through the house to find her grandmother. 

“Careful,” Jungkook calls from next to you. 

He notices your dazed state and takes a step closer. “How are you feeling? Still tired?”

Your mouth falls open and you shake your head with a smile, brushing it off, “My head is aching a bit from the long car ride, but I’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll sit down for a few.” 

He shows concern in his expression and leans forward to inspect you carefully. “Come here.” 

“I told you I’d be okay, Gguk. I’m fine.” Still, your feet take you closer towards him until calloused fingers land at your temples before applying pressure. “Mm,” you let out in surprise, lips pressed when he goes in circular motions against your skin, grappling onto one of his wrists for support. Your eyes flutter shut when the pain starts to subside. Four fingers each from both hands are firmly planted while his two thumbs continue to ease the throbbing that’s been planted in your head since you’ve gotten out of the car. 

“Starting to feel better?” He murmurs softly. 

 You nod with the space he provided for it. “I still think I should just take some medicine.” 

He doesn't stop his ministrations, only humming. “In a minute. Want to avoid my mom a bit longer before she starts to ask why I haven’t been visiting lately.” 

A smile quickly settles on your lips and you squeeze at the wrist you’ve been gripping on. 

It’s up close when he sees you softly giggle and his heart surges forward. Your eyes open back up and you’re suddenly staring at such a close proximity. 

“She worries about you.” 

“I know,” he promises. “Just not sure what to say when she starts interrogating me.” 

Before your mouth can slip in an answer, a throat clears and you tense immediately. 

You both stiffly turn towards the new figure in the room who raises an amused brow. 

“Uh, hi Mom. Where’s Yeona?” 

“With your father.” 

You remember suddenly before coughing and tugging at Jungkook’s hands that stay planted against your head. 

“We were just..” Jungkook attempts, wiping off his palms that have gotten significantly clammy in the span of a minute or two. 

“Headache,” you finish and state for him. 

“Yeah.” 

“Did we go back in time before medicine was a thing?” She jokes then tilts her head towards the direction of one of the bathrooms. “There’s painkillers in the medicine cabinet.” 

“Uh I’m going to.. Yeah.” Jungkook scratches at the back of his neck and seems unsure before seeing himself out to grab for the bottle of pills. 

“Please, don’t give me that look,” you beg once the embarrassment settles in and your cheeks start to warm up. 

“No, I’m just happy is all.” She smiles in satisfaction. “Last time I checked, you were divorced to my son.” 

You groan. “And I still am.” 

“Then what was that?” She refers back to the scene she had unfortunately walked in on. 

“A ploy to drag out time before hearing your questions about why he hasn’t been visiting as often as he should be,” you easily tattle. 

She gasps. 

Jungkook walks back in with two bottles in hand, eyes bouncing back and forth to each one. “It doesn’t matter which brand right? I brought out two just in case-“ 

“Jeon Jungkook,” his mother scowls. 

He freezes and looks up to his infuriated mother, then pointedly looks at you before the gears turn in his head. 

“You told her?” 

You simply shrug and snatch both bottles away before his mother would start shifting her target towards him. “Thank you.” 

You don’t bother to hear the scolding, instead, walking through the house to find where your daughter had drifted off to. 

Mrs. Jeon takes some time to catch up with her son and gives you enough to rest from the prolonged car ride. 

Small feet tap on the wooden floor and you try to search for the doe eyes and pouty lips that come with them. 

“Yeona, where have you been?” 

“With grandpa!” Then, she enthusiastically stomps. “He said my gifts are hiding from me.” 

You chuckle. “Is that so?” 

A bigger pair of feet walk in and Mr. Jeon looks flustered, as if he had done something he wasn’t supposed to do. His head angles down to Yeona and he explains, “I messed up! I was supposed to wait for Grandma to feed you guys before I said anything about birthday presents.” 

Your mouth opens to reply that he was perfectly fine before large hands settle firmly on your shoulders. You squeak and jump, registering that it was only Jungkook when you whip around to face the culprit. “Seriously?” 

“It’s payback,” he simply says. “I got scolded for fifteen minutes all because you decided to be a snitch.” 

“Sorry.” You softly nudge. “She was assuming too much when she saw us.” 

“Ah,” he realizes, and he suddenly seems okay with the thought of going down just for you. “I’ll have to talk to her again about doing that. Sorry.” 

You dismiss it with a smile. “Just more worried about you. Poor baby,” you tease. “What? Did she make you face the wall for five minutes?” He scowls. “Jungkook, she misses you,” you reason. 

“I know,” he mumbles. “I promised her I would be here more often.” 

He has that look in his eye you are way too familiar with — when the gears start turning and he begins to overthink his whole entire schedule for the month, figuring out the time-slots—if he even has any free space for it. 

“Hey,” you call, and he snaps out of it. “Don’t try to fill your family in your schedule as if they’re appointments. You’ll visit when you want to, okay? Not because you have to.” 

He exhales and nods. “Right. I will.” 

He then notices your features significantly brighter than the last time he’s taken them in, no more fatigued, so he asks, “Did you take the medicine?” 

You nod. “I just took it, but moving around a bit is helping a lot already. 

“That’s good.” 

His brows furrow when he catches the expression on his dad. “Is he okay?” 

You turn and observe him tailing your hyper daughter who has been checking every crevice of the house for any mere glimpse of eye-catching wrapping paper.

“Like father, like son,” is all you say and he stares on with no clue. “He’s literally a second away from hearing his own scolding.” 

Mrs. Jeon walks in and shrieks. “You told her already—?!” 

The man beside you sighs and questions out loud what on earth his father had done. 

So, you explain, “They put on a scavenger hunt for Yeona’s gifts. Except, it was supposed to be after lunch.” 

“Oh no.” 

“Yeah.” 

“You were supposed to wait so that I could take pictures for it!” 

The older man’s hands get thrown up in defense. “She hasn’t found them yet, it’s fine.” 

“What if she actually does?” She tests with a brow raised. 

“Mom,” Jungkook calls and both of his parents finally turn to give him attention. “It’s alright. We can do the scavenger hunt now since we’ll be leaving soon.” 

“You aren’t going to stay and eat?” 

“Please don’t worry,” you kindly decline. “I’d feel bad if you were to cook something, just for us.”

She waves a hand carelessly in the air. “Nonsense! I want to do this for you. It’s been way too long since the last time I cooked for more than two people.”

Your elbow prods at Jungkook who lacks his own attention. You quickly send him a look, a silent message to stop her from whipping anything up when you wouldn’t have much time to properly eat it, given from your strict itinerary. 

“We only have half an hour to be here before the next Ferry arrives,” he finally speaks up. 

“Oh,” his mother dejects with a pout. “Well, that’s a shame.” 

“Yeah, sorry mom.” 

Your hip pushes against his side, and your throat clears. “We’ll come back and stay for dinner,” you promise. 

“Please do,” she nods. “My son doesn’t even visit anymore.” 

She plainly ignores Jungkook, whose mouth has dropped significantly. “Mom—! I told you I would visit more often.” 

“Can’t even make a simple phone call,” she tsks. “Your ex-wife interacts with me at least three times a week—more than you ever did within a month.”

“Mom!” 

Your hand lands on top of his shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze and sending his mother a smile of understanding. “We’ll be there. Promise.” 

She sighs, hands smacking against her fruity apron and then clapping enthusiastically. “Alright, fine! Let me get my camera first.” 

Her son groans. “Just use your phone.” 

Her head shakes, already bending down and shuffling through the drawers, “But you got me that nice camera for Christmas! I haven’t used it yet.” 

“Alright, fine,” he reluctantly obliges. “Dad, will you please give my daughter a hint? She’s going crazy here.” He points and your daughter is exactly there, crawling through the coffee table and easing herself to the next tiny space she can fit in. 

“Baby, you’re going to hurt yourself,” you warn when she breezes through a few expensive-looking structures around the house, “Or break something.. Jungkook—!”  You tug on his sleeve and push him to grab her before any mishaps could happen. 

When Jungkook finally gets a hold of a squirmy Yeona, his father finally ushers everybody outside towards the direction of the backyard where the scavenger hunt is officially located.

-

“They just texted me that they’re already at the house,” Jungkook suddenly announces by the time Yeona finds her fourth present. 

You double-check the time on your phone and worriedly ask, “Do you think we’re running late?” 

His head shakes. “I doubt it. If anything, we’re probably on time. We left really early in the morning.” 

You sigh out with both shoulders deflating and he notices. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” you ease. “Just worried, you know? This is the first year we aren’t doing a birthday party and she’s only turning six.” 

“Hey,” he chuckles. “It’s not like these aren’t going to be a forever thing.” 

“I know,” you groan and rub harshly at your temples. “I think I’m just so used to big gatherings, the amount of unnecessary attention, and the cake nobody eats because it’s all it really was for me growing up.” As much as the parties were for good intentions, it was never in a good way. 

The only reason your mother was set on giving you a birthday party every year was for the pictures and some way into measly bragging about how well her life was going and not everybody else’s. 

“And in no way I’m saying it as a way for Yeona to live through whatever I went through, but every year I try my best to plan something she wants.” You rub at your elbow unsurely with lips turned downwards. “For some reason, her not asking for one this year makes me think how much she didn’t like the others and how shitty I am for not seeing it much earlier.” 

Yeona giggles when she picks out another that happens to be sneakily hidden snug between a few branches of a tree. 

He shakes his head and calls for you softly. “Are you kidding? I’ve never seen her happier with every passing birthday you manage to outdo every year. Our daughter also has incredible confrontational skills - If she doesn’t like something, she’ll tell us regardless.” 

You snort. “Right.” You grow nervous how serious he becomes when you catch onto his eyes and his front faces you so suddenly. 

“She loves what you do every year,” he assures. He then reasons, “And maybe next year it’ll be different — she’s growing up.” 

You slowly nod, handing him a laugh of disbelief. “Yeah. God, you’re right. Sorry.” 

“Even standing here with a headache, you’re still worrying for nothing,” he scolds. 

“I told you I already feel better,” you argue in return. “The medicine helped a bunch. I’m okay.” And for the next ten minutes, you ignore the side-eye full of concern overpowering on his side when he shoots you a glance. He’s known you since the start of his twenties, of course he would be able to pick out if you were lying or not. 

“What’s the count?” Jungkook asks, eyes squinting from the bright sun casting down at the colorful yard. 

His mother points the camera at him and raises a hand, “Number Five!”

“And how much in total?” 

She pouts. “It wouldn’t be as much fun if I told you.” 

“Mom.” 

You shush him. “Leave her alone.” 

“Six! Six! Six!” Yeona yells near the fence. 

“You found the sixth one, sweetheart!” Jungkook’s father exclaims. 

His mother curses and whips the camera back around. “I missed it!” 

It’s comical when you watch it from afar, and a large smile blooms across your face at the three. “God,” you snort, quite endeared by the sight, “This is a mess. It’s cute.” 

Jungkook stays behind alongside you to simply observe you and them, and he’s already memorizing every part and aspect of this moment to set aside for later. 

Everything fell into place so perfectly, everybody belonging exactly where they were supposed to be. 

“You really do look pretty today, _____.” 

Eyes widening, you whip around to his figure with a questioned gaze. 

He’s willing to repeat the words, let you know over and over until you grow tired of the repetitiveness, drown you in all of the compliments he’s thinking of right now. 

But, you curtly nod and turn away. “T-Thanks.” 

His hand reaches out, exactly to where yours is and his sight subconsciously falls on your fourth finger that was blank of a specific jewelry he put on you two years ago. It’s already been two fucking years and he still grows somber when his eyes catch onto where the diamond used to be.

No matter how many times he can confront it with his own eyes, stare at it for however long you would allow him to look, seek it every time it would raise or show itself — It still hurts nonetheless. 

It’s exactly what makes him pull back and grip onto the chain tucked into his shirt, away from your eyes to see the charm that glints exactly like the first day you put it on him. 

-

Finally having it be the middle of the day, you get to leave and head towards the station to get from Busan to Jeju. 

The station is way more quiet than what you initially anticipated, it being the weekend and all, but the line barely lasts a minute, and you’re already boarding the ferry, right behind Yeona who holds her father’s hand tightly across the dock that transitions to the ship. 

“Snacks?” Is the first thing Jungkook asks for when you all sit down and you quickly reach into Yeona’s backpack. 

“All I have our a few baggies of rice-puffs and juice-boxes.” 

“I want one!” Yeona intercepts, and greedy hands suddenly wave in front of your face. 

“Alright, baby, hold on a minute.” You request and stare back up at Jungkook to propose the idea of sharing a muffin his mother offered last-minute when you slipped through the door to part ways. “There’s only two juice-boxes.”

Jungkook’s head shakes, going to decline the kind offer and allow you to have it before Yeona perks sweetly, “Daddy can share with me!” 

His thumb and pointer softly caresses the supple cheek beneath it before landing a kiss on it and murmuring, “Always so sweet.” 

Sitting back down, Yeona on Jungkook’s lap while you sit side-to-side, plastic cover of the muffin opened and lips pursed out to your own straw. 

With Jungkook’s hands full, squirming daughter all over his lap, you make it easier for him by popping small pieces of the muffin in his open mouth. 

You let out a laugh when you miss and watch a few chocolate crumbs dribble down his chin. “Sorry,” you murmur with a smile, fingers rubbing off some of where the chocolate smeared against his skin. 

“Do you need a tissue?” 

Turning to the nimble voice, you notice an elderly lady with a soft smile she carries so sweetly. “I’m sorry,” she laughs off. “I just noticed how much of a mess you’ve made on your husband.” 

You both don’t flinch at the assumption, smiling back at her. 

“Oh,” your voice brightens with a laugh of your own and bowing in your seat slightly, “Thank you so much for offering.” 

She brings out a few from her own bag and reaches out over the seats, “Here.” 

“Thank you again,” Jungkook says and she looks at you expectantly, practically requesting you to wipe off his mouth yourself. You jump at the realization and clear your throat with whatever protest that bubbled from within, and start with stiff fingers. You’ve already stuffed pieces of muffin in his mouth, what harm would it be to clean up the mess you’ve made? Except it’s completely different, not very easy doing the simple action with a bright-eyed old woman who seems very entertained by the aspect of it, all life returning to them when the tissue rubs at his bottom lip. 

“Daddy,” Yeona taps. “Want off.” 

His gentle grip on her tummy loosens and allows her to slide off of his legs to approach the woman. Your daughter gently waves and let’s her smile speak for itself, so easy to sway the woman when she was so used to doing this to every other person she meets daily. 

“Hi there.” The woman waves back and bends her back more forward to reach Yeona’s level. “Where are you off to today?” 

“Jeju!” She exclaims, and then boasts proudly, “It’s my birthday.” 

The woman eggs her giddiness on by clapping gently, “Oh wow. What a wonderful place to celebrate your birthday!” 

“Yes ma’am,” she agrees sweetly, hands clasped behind her back. “I told my Mommy and Daddy to bring me there and they said yes! We even rode all together here!” 

The woman spares you an odd look at the figures Yeona points at, and you both refrain meeting her eyes that read about obviously riding together, you were married with a kid after all.

At least, to her eyes you were. 

Unfortunately, the both of you lacked the guts to tell her the truth, and that this was just another day to simply tolerate each other more than you already do during the week. 

Nothing more, nothing less. 

The woman hums. “Your parents must love you a lot then. They look good together, too.” 

It all seems too much, as if she was mocking you, and you immediately grow antsy at her nosy stare. 

Luckily, after Yeona had her fair share in her frankly short conversation with the older woman, she left all of you alone for the rest of the ride. 

“That was—” Jungkook starts. 

“—Definitely new,” you finish. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever be used to the assumptions of us still being together. It’s hard not to just blatantly say no so that they could get off of our backs for once.” 

Your voice lowers a bit, just to make sure she can’t hear you from her corner-seat. “But we also have to understand their point,” you reason, “When people see both of us with a daughter, it’s easier to assume that we’re together.” 

His head leans on the metal rod behind him, still listening with his eyes closed. 

“Besides, I don’t really mind.” 

His head shoots back into position and he stares with widened eyes. “Y-You don’t?”

Shrugging, your head shakes. “It’s better this way. I’d rather just go along with it than explain exactly why we’re separated, let them into something they have no business in being in.” 

“Right,” he drags it. “Exactly,” and he says it more for himself to grip on, because fucking obviously. Not for any other reason but for convenience. Always for the best, and he was fine with it. Perfectly keen. 

His head turns towards the water, and he squints, legs bouncing obnoxiously, Yeona whines. It’s only then you realize he’s decked out in all black, as usual, with beads of sweat running off his temple and onto his neck. It’s only worse when he’s seated exactly right under the sun, where the roof fails to give him any shade. 

“You idiot,” you suddenly call and his brows furrow, whipping around to find you in a state of absolute worry, searching through your bag. “Out of all days, when we’d be outside, you’re wearing everything you’re not supposed to.” 

His eyes widen and he stares down at his attire, sizzling back down into realization when he finally realizes the problem. “I’m fine,” he passes off cooly. “Yeona wanted the seat nearest to the water, and I figured you wouldn’t want to be under the sun this long.” 

Before he can even come out with an argument, you’re already moving forward and grabbing Yeona off of his lap. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Come on,” you pat on his thigh, silently coaxing him to scoot. “We’ll trade spots. You can’t be under the sun like this.” 

“_____..” 

Your lips purse and stray down into a pout, and his heart falters, his argument pushed down his throat until he swallows it away. “Jungkook, I’m worried. I don’t even think you put on sunscreen today either.” 

He’s fully aware how irked you get when he doesn’t follow the skincare regimen you set up for him. It’s especially the distress you hold in your eyes and lips when he forgoes the most important step of it all: suncare. 

“Shit doesn’t even work,” he exasperates, and your eyes roll back.

“Say that to me when you’re fifty and covered with sun spots you’ll never be able to erase because you never wanted to listen to me.”

His bite comes without even a second thought, falling back into the banter he secretly misses, when it was comfortable to joke around you, tease you to no end, and drive you up the wall. “You’ll still like me that way, right?” He’s teasing now, and it’s clear when he raises his brows in expectancy, lighthearted and jokeful. 

To your embarrassment, your cheeks tint pink and you don’t have enough pride to return his stare. The only thing you can really do is stammer severely and point at your purse. “J-Just put some on and leave me alone.” 

He hands you a hearty and genuine laugh and you only try your best to ignore it, lips curving the same until you force them to stop from going any higher. 

-

“Holy shit,” you gape. “It’s huge.” 

“They’re loaded.” 

“I-I can’t go in this, Jungkook.” 

“You couldn’t have told me this before we went on a whole road trip and had me prepay tickets for a ferry ride here?” 

You hit his arm. “Jungkook, I’m serious.” 

He laughs. “Why exactly can’t you? It’s just a beach house.” 

“This is too big for a six year old! A few candles from the fucking mall is never going to pay off the fact they are letting us have it for the weekend.”

“With their advision,” he reminds. Yeona stirs in her sleep from the backseat and Jungkook pins you a look. “Can we get out now?” 

You hesitate. “How are you okay without thinking about being possibly indebted to Seokjin and Namjoon? First, they put out a car for us to drive here when we arrived, and now we’re staying in this? We’re being pampered.” 

“Because I’ve been leeching off of Seokjin since I was a teenager, _____,” he states, nimbly remembering when he would depend on a few meals paid from him and even to now - being roommates with the older man. “He’s fine with it. He offered first, after all. We’re just following orders,” he defends so easily. 

Reluctantly, you climb out of the car, crossed arms from your chest, heading towards the back to take out your daughter from her carseat. With a soft nudge and a kiss to her cheek, her eyes shot back open with the realization that this was the last stop, that she was finally here. “M-Mommy, look!” 

“I know,” you coo, “I was just as shocked as you are now.” 

She moves quickly, already releasing the buckle and sliding down to the car floor. She still requests to be picked up like a princess when her arms span out for you, and of course, you oblige. 

“Jungkook,” you call. “Are you getting the bags?” 

The trunk shuts, keys jingling in his hand, “Already on it.” 

When you reach the porch, Yeona eagerly leans towards the right of the door to ring the bell. 

It only takes three seconds for Kim Seokjin to open it with a wide smile. “Welcome!” 

Yeona squeals, legs kicking all over the place and you finally set her down for her to enter first. Not before giving her uncle’s leg a big squeeze of her own, “Thank you, Uncle Jinnie! Love it so much!” 

He chuckles, smoothing down her hair, “Anything for the birthday girl! You haven’t even taken a look around yet, sweetheart. Go find Uncle Joon and he’ll show you everything.” 

“Okay!” Her form is only a blur when she rushes out. 

He smiles. “You guys are on time,” and he says it like it’s a complete surprise. 

A brow arches. “When are we not?” 

“New years,” he recalls. “You both made it five minutes late after the countdown.” 

Jungkook slips behind you to set the bags down. “That’s not fair.” 

You agree. “Yeona was two years old that year. She had a hard time handling the fireworks. I had to coax her to sleep through the phone that night.” 

His head tilts in reason, “Fair.” 

Jungkook nudges you. “Where do you want these?” 

You shrug, turning to Seokjin. “Depends where you want us, Jin.” 

“It’s up to you guys. Taehyung and Jimin already took two of the guest rooms. There’s only three more.” 

“Kiumin is sleeping over, so they can have one room,” you calculate. “And Hyejin’s coming with Kiumin, so we can split.” 

The older man stares wide-eyed at his roommate. Jungkook stares back with the same expression, so Seokjin asks for him, “Split?”

You’re too busy with some of the messages on your phone regarding birthday wishes to your daughter, vaguely returning them with typed out thank you’s and kissy faces. “Yeah.” 

“Does that mean you and—“

You send him an odd stare before turning around and grabbing onto your own bags, disregarding Jungkook’s. “Of course not—? I’m rooming with Hyejin and Jungkook can have the extra room to himself.”

“.. Right.” 

“Is it this way?” You ask without a clue to the men behind you. 

“Uh, yeah! Let me help you,” Seokjin rushes. 

Jungkook is left at the doorway, all alone and with his own bags and a fuming heart that drags as if the slim possibility of what would have happened was anything more to go by.

-

It’s nighttime now. 

You’ve directed Hyejin to your room and have let her unpack while you watched over Yeona and her little boy. 

Your knees bend into a crouch, the familiar smell of chlorine filling your senses when you near the water. 

Jungkook's hair flicks back when his fingers push through them and the blue rays of the water reflect against his chest. His collarbones glisten against the minimal light the night provides, making it harder to strictly set your eyes forward and stray away from anything that wasn’t his own. 

“You couldn’t have waited a second for everyone to settle in before dipping into the pool?” 

He pouts. “Why?”

Head tilting, you pin him a stare and direct your eyesight towards the pink floatie in the corner, swaying calmly. “Because Yeona’s been eyeing that giant flamingo and now she’s asking to hop in with you.” 

“Let her in, then. Namjoon’s already here.”

Your head turns to the outdoor bar and they pin the figure reading a book with amusement when he sends off a small wave. 

“But then Kiumin..” 

Hyejin walks in with a relaxed sigh at the sight in front of her when she passes through the widened double-doors. “Too bad it’s nighttime. I could’ve been tanning.” 

“Hyejin!” You gawk at her bikini. “You’re going in too?” 

She nods in an obvious answer. “Kiumin’s been begging me to let him jump in since we’ve gotten here, and with a view like this — how could I say no?” 

Jungkook points. “See? Our friend is obviously taking the advantage of being here.” 

“We are way far from friends, Jeon,” she practically snarls back. “It’s almost insulting when you say it like that.” 

“Hyejin,” you warn, and turn back to the man standing in the waist-deep side of the pool now. 

Ignoring your friend’s hatred fueled statements, he coaxes. “Come on,” he lulls. “Taehyung and Jimin are already planning to jump in too.” 

Your head shakes in decline, “I can’t. I didn’t even pack a swimsuit, only Yeona’s.” 

“I have one laying out for you in the room,” Hyejin pitches and your eyes widen significantly. “It’s the one I’ve been meaning to give you.” 

“Perfect!” Seokjin claps by the doors, tray full of glasses and the two children following right behind him. “We can start having a pool party!” They immediately cheer and your mind starts to reel in defeat. 

You rub your arms shyly, “I-I’m fine. I don’t really feel like swimming right now..” 

Hyejin snorts. “Don’t even lie. We used to be obsessed with the pool when we were kids. We can do it again for old times’ sake! Show our kids where they got it from.” 

“Literally, what does that have to do with anything in wanting to swim? Aren’t kids naturally drawn to the pool, because it’s a pool?” You grit. 

“I’m just saying to take the chance and relax,” she stresses and her arms extend, waving around carelessly. “We’re here!” 

“You’re going to miss out if you don’t get in,” Jungkook bets, and he knows how much you despise being the outsider while everyone had their share of fun. You loathed the plain idea of it. “Just put the bikini on and stop being a pussy.”

“J-Jungkook!” 

Childish. Absolutely childish.

You hear footsteps approaching right behind you, the vow reaching your ears. “I’ll only jump in if we do it together.” 

Taehyung’s head shakes side to side, eyes narrowing at the shorter man with apprehension. “You pull back every fucking time we do it. I won’t fall for it again.”

Jungkook’s throat clears at the two and he orders his friends, “Tell _____ to get in the pool.” 

Taehyung’s brow furrows, “She doesn’t want to? It’s the pool—and we’re in Jeju!” 

You stubbornly shake your head. “Don’t care.” 

Jimin has a teasing glint in his eye, something you dislike a lot when it’s crystal clear he has something stirring up in his sick head of his, especially since Taehyung had turned down the proposal of his playful and expectant joke.

“We can—grab her and push her in?” He suggests. 

“That’s elementary school shit, Jimin,” you warn. “Get away from me.” 

He’s inching closer and you’re nervously sputtering for Jungkook, helplessly calling for him to get his friend from throwing you in the water so carelessly. 

Luckily, a small hand grapples onto you and it’s Yeona with eager feet who stops Jimin in his tracks. “Mommy, t-the pink birdie!” 

You have a staring contest with it, the one side of the floating flamingo’s eye stares back at you and you exhale a puff before finally standing back up. “Alright, come on. Let’s get dressed.” 

-

The white bikini on you terrifies you enough to cross your arms over yourself and skirt around the edge of the pool until you reach the chairs where Hyejin sits. 

No one’s noticed yet. Not when Jungkook and the rest were already in the pool, putting on the floaties for the children who sat on the pathed ledges made of stone. At some point, you can see both of Jungkook’s eyes completely wiped out and squeezed shut when Yeona excitedly flaps her arms around the water, hyper to get in. 

“Hyejin,” you hiss out, finally reaching your friend. 

She hums with furrowed brows, too distracted in trying to connect her phone to the bluetooth speaker. 

“Why in the world would you give me something like this. I-It’s too much,” you whimper out weakly. 

Her eyes roll back. “It’s a bikini, _____. Remember those? I bet you look great—“ She screeches, chin dropping, hands hovering over her mouth. You flinch, just as shocked as she was, shushing her to shut up before anyone even has the chance in blinking your way. 

“Holy shit.” 

Eyes squeezing shut, you shy in on yourself, carefully taking the wooden pool-chair beside her. “Please, shut up.” 

Her arms raise, “I haven’t said anything—yet.” 

You scowl. “You seriously couldn’t have given me any other fucking set? Like a wetsuit? This is too weird for me.” 

She cackles. “Relax,” she attempts to ease. “Why are you so freaked out? It’s just a swimsuit.” 

Your head knocks back against the wood and you sigh tiredly. “It’s been way too long since I’ve worn something like this. Something not.. Mom-ish.” 

“And why not? This literally proves how much of a Milf you really are!” She stresses. 

You shrug shyly. “I haven’t had much of a reason to.” 

“Well, I’m begging you to. Seriously, _____,” she reassures. 

You quietly break into a laugh, smacking at her arm harshly. 

“Where’s mommy?” You hear Jungkook suddenly ask, and you think you’re a hundred percent fucked. 

Yeona’s voice is muffled against your ex-husband’s chest, incoherently explaining, “Mommy was already running away when we got outside.” 

“Running away?” 

“Yeah! Kind’ve like a ninja. She was there and then—poof!” 

You don’t even announce your bathroom break to Hyejin, standing up and rushing over towards the doors that were close yet so far away.

It would only be a second before you would reach it, and straight into changing back to the sundress that was always deemed as safe. 

Part of you wishes that you could parade around with no care, being so long since you’ve gone out in something like this. But another part that tears you completely, thinks about Kim Seol and how different she is compared to you. 

With stark personalities and looks, you most likely would have never even thought about comparing you from her. But now that Jungkook was going out with her, everything’s changed, and your mind reels into thinking how in the world he had the chance of going to someone else completely different from you, and if he even liked you in the first place, relationship and marriage long forgotten, not even being considered in this context. 

You weren’t exactly sure how long this feeling would last, and maybe it wouldn’t, sticking to all of the new relationships he would continue to open up now that he was available. 

Sure, he’s seen you plenty of times in bed and in the shower from the past years of being together. But this is now and before he had anything younger, more vibrant. 

This was possibly the only thing you could take away from him. Seeing anything physical to compare you with another was the only thing you truly, absolutely wished for. 

You accidentally collide against something. Hard and wide. 

And when you eventually look up, you’re relieved to only find Namjoon with a bag of chips in hand. 

“Shit, are you okay?” 

“I-I’m fine, Joon. Sorry for—running?” 

He chuckles, pointing back to his boyfriend back inside of the house. “Save it for the lifeguard, but he’s off-duty right now mixing margaritas for everyone.”

You attempt to let out the same energy of a laugh as his, but it all turns dry and brittle, making him halt and inspect. “You okay, _____?” 

“O-Of course I am.” 

A few murmurs are made at the back of your figure until a small voice calls out, “Mommy! Over here!” 

Letting out a small gasp, you reluctantly turn around, weakly mustering a smile and avoiding the eyes that officially lay on you when he notices. 

“Hi, baby.” 

“Mommy!” She splashes. “Swim with me and daddy!” 

“U-Uh..”

“Looks like your daughter wants you to get in the pool.”

Turning back to Namjoon, you stiffly nod, “Yeah.” 

“If you’re worried about the temperature, don’t worry. It’s heated.” 

Far from your true concern, you manage to give him a thumbs-up and head back to the very place you’ve been trying to escape. 

“I’ll be there in a minute, okay? Let me go get Aunt Hyejin first.” It’s truly for your sake more than for hers, a cry for help in a situation you could have easily avoided if you had just never put the bikini on. “I hate this,” you managed to mutter against your breath when you finally reached her. “I’m never listening to you ever again.” 

She yelps when you rip the towel away from her, tugging tightly at her arm, urging her to get up. “Hey!” She pouts. 

“Come on,” you order. “Yeona wants to swim and I am not doing this alone.” 

She sits up and observes, quietly biting on a sly chuckle when she notices. 

“What now?” 

“Nothing,” she waves off. “It’s just—your ex is making googly eyes right now.” 

You groan, stomping impatiently. “Hyejin, stop lying and get up.” 

“I’m not lying,” she pleads. “I swear — I’m looking at him right now!” 

“I don’t care,” you deadpan. 

When she finally stands, you put a death-grip on her arm and timidly walk towards the pool. 

“Ouch.”

“Sorry,” you sheepishly say, releasing a bit. 

It’s a pleasant feeling when the warm water wets the bottom surface of your feet, and your shoulders subconsciously relax when your waist-deep. 

Hyejin coos at her little boy, proud of her son when she watches Jimin help, something more in her eyes that go starry at the man who leads him through the water. 

“Thanks, Hyejin,” you whisper.

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” she pats softly at your arm. “I know how nervous you are and all. Just don’t, okay? You’ll be fine.” 

You weakly smile at her again before finally sending her off. 

When she moves out of your view and directly towards Jimin and her son, you find Yeona eagerly waiting for you. 

Taehyung has his eyes blown at the sight of you, whistling with your name trapped between his lips, which exactly makes you wrap your arms tighter around yourself. Of course, he’s teasing, the natural flirt in him most likely powering over him. 

Fortunately, you’re saved when he gets whacked with a strong push of water, Jungkook’s doing. You don’t notice it when your daughter cutely dog-paddles towards you. 

All is forgotten, smile setting on your lips.

“Mommy! Stay right there, okay? I’ll swim to you.” 

“Oh,” you perk, arms already rising beneath the water. With the long distance, you subtly move forward when her legs kick to make it easier on her, and within a few seconds, she’s splashing against your arms with a squeal. 

You giggle. “Are you having fun?” 

“So much, mommy!” She exclaims. “Daddy threw me up high when I wanted a splash.” 

You gasp with a smile, nerves diminishing. “Really? I wish I was there to see it.” 

“Are you too cold?” A voice asks from behind her and you hesitantly face Jungkook, always polite and concerned for your well-being, except there was definitely something else in his eyes you weren’t able to pinpoint and didn’t bother to anyway, now that you were in the water. 

You stiffly smile and shake your head. “I’m fine. The water feels really nice.” 

He nods. “T-That’s good.” 

God, he feels like it’s high school all over again, having no utter idea in starting a conversation with a girl, wanting to, but not even knowing exactly how.

Still, he can’t stop the burning stare, even when your attention zeroes back in on Yeona. 

The nice music sets a comforting nuance around the place, hearing splashes coming from everywhere, specifically when Seokjin’s yelling resonates from the chairs when Taehyung targets him with a cheeky grin. 

“The slices of watermelon are here, you dick!” He scowls. 

Jimin butts in with a scold to the older man, telling him to censor his words around the children. 

Jungkook doesn’t have time to hear the continued argument when he’s hit with an expectant splash of water of his own. 

He doesn’t even need to ask a second later when he hears the both of you giggling. Wiping away the drops on his face and in his eyes, he brushes strands of hair back to get a good look at the satisfied looks on both of your faces. He approaches slowly. 

Your head shakes, already aware of what Jungkook was doing — getting his revenge. 

“I-It was Yeonie’s idea!” 

She only giggles louder, knowing fully well she would easily be the untouched one out of this. 

“Jungkook, I swear to god if you do anything to me-“ 

Your warning goes straight out when strong arms turn you around to face your daughter. Fully wrapping them around your form for a slim chance of being able to escape, you hear a soft chuckle against your ear. 

“I think it’d be fun to splash mommy, huh?” He teases and you tense. 

“Jungkook—!” 

“Yeah, let’s do it!” She pumps a tiny fist from out of the water.

“Sweetheart, no! Listen to me-“

Your nose scrunches, hair whipping with you to cover your face when she splashes. Jungkook helps along the way by releasing an arm and moving some of the water forward against you to hit you square in the face. His wave comes stronger and does an excellent  job at soaking you completely.

You gasp, wiping some of the water away from your face. “Okay, please, I’m sorry,” you whine, gripping his wrists softly, eyes squeezed shut.

He falters at the frail sight of you, easily making you his biggest weakness. 

“It’s okay, mommy,” Yeona speaks up first. “I forgive you.” 

“Hey!” You scoff with a pout. “It wasn’t even my idea.” 

Her eyes crease and she giggles loudly. 

“_____!” Hyejin suddenly calls, and your chin tilts up to find your best friend. “Kiumin wants to play with the birthday girl.” 

Yeona eagerly looks up at you and you simply nod with a smile, letting her small legs kick and float over to her best friend. 

“Ah,” you realize, now being all alone. “I think I should go now.” 

Still, with his arms wrapped around you, he leans closer, “What, why?” And it’s needy, wanting to pull you closer than what he already has. “Can’t you stay?”

“Yeona’s all the way over there and we’re..” Exes with barely anything to talk about or to get along in general. It wasn’t in the book you’ve written out for yourself and probably never will be. “I-I have to get her cake ready. Your mom worked really hard on it.”

“I’ll help you put the candles on it,” he quickly offers. “Just.. Just stay here with me for a while.” 

A brow raises and you turn in his arms. “And do what?” 

He feigns in thinking about it, sharp jaw tilting for you to settle your eyes on. 

Seokjin interrupts with a call of his name and a raised brow at the sight. 

You clear your tight throat and gulp when he hands Jungkook a towel. “Your phone is ringing,” and then carefully gives it to him over the water. 

You observe him as he answers. “Hello?” 

A female voice is heard on the other end and you sense the way he pulls back a bit, that it was Seol. Her muffled voice is enough to push you back into reality and to what exactly you were doing before the call. 

“Ah, hey..” He awkwardly greets, nodding to whatever she was saying. Your head turns away when his eyes land on yours and you feign interest at the potted plant set right next to the door that led inside. “I’m at the house now with.. Everyone else.” 

He chokes up a bit when she says another thing, and you don’t understand until he returns the words. 

“I—I miss you too.” 

Swallowing harshly, your expression hardens, and you begin to pull back. 

“I’ll call you later tonight, alright?” He assures, almost in a rush. Your ears catch some of her words, not really interested in any of the conversation anyway, wanting to create a distance between you and Jungkook before anything else would happen, before you would hear something else you wouldn’t want to be hearing at all. 

Finally hanging up, he takes a slow breath in and sets the phone at the side of the pool. 

You finally pull away from him completely. 

“_____.”

You give a curt smile. “Yeah?” 

His head shakes. “Nothing. It’s just.. Are you okay?” 

You nod, slightly with bewildering eyes, asking, “Why wouldn’t I be?” Then, you laugh softly. “We’re not married anymore, Jungkook.” He stiffens, jaw ticking and eyes shifting to catch your flat expression. “And from what I clearly remember — you’re seeing someone else.” You point towards the phone laying carelessly on top of the stone. 

For once, you feel bad for the poor girl who’s probably wondering when his goodnight text from him would be. 

You keep your eyes on his hands that sink and submerge into the water, and back to his sides. 

“Just because it’s our daughter's birthday does not entail us playing family again,” you mumble. “You took that all away from me two years ago, Jungkook.” 

He doesn’t say anything, shamefully looking down at the waves in the pool caused by Yeona a few feet away. A reminder that was given way too late. 

You nod again, turning slowly around. “I’m going to go get the cake ready. I’ll ask Hyejin to help.” 

With the distance you’ve given him, he finally looks up and finds a disapproving look being given by his own roommate, who had seen and observed every single second of the two of you together since being in the pool. 

He understood exactly why. 

-

Everybody eventually makes their way out of the pool and back into the house to hang out at. 

The same subtle music speakers through the house, the kids being fully entertained by the large television in the living room, and the inside of the house being overall in a mood and feeling that definitely differs from your own thoughts that constantly circle around your head. 

Whatever Jungkook was getting at in the pool, definitely wasn’t sitting with you right. And frankly, everything leading up to it too. 

The process of the divorce was already stripping and tiring enough, finalizing the documents and who would get exactly what was already overwhelming enough, but to throw all of that away and not even consider it when you’re wrapped in the arms you were so accustomed to was entirely stressful. 

It didn’t make sense. It never did when it came to him. 

“Yeonie, are you getting sleepy already?” You ask across the room from the kitchen as you watch your little girl yawn and squirm on top of the fluffy carpet she lays on. 

Her head stubbornly shakes with a pout set on her lips. 

Glancing at the clock sat beside her, it was only eight, but judging from the exertion taken place at the pool, Yeona must have been exhausted. 

Your feet move to where she lays lazily, crouching down and moving her towards your lap, you murmur, “Stay awake for me, baby. You haven’t even blown the candles or opened your presents yet.”

She yawns in protest and nuzzles her nose further into your neck. “Not even a nap?” 

Chuckling softly, probably making it worse for her when your fingers trace against her back, you repeat, “Not even a nap.” Saying it exactly knowing what that would entail, Yeona misinterpreting what a nap and sleep was more often than not. 

Jungkook comes back with damp hair and sweats, black socks shuffling through the floor until they reach you. 

“Hey,” you greet, looking down at the sleepy-head in your arms. “She’s tired.” 

He hums, crouching down with an endeared smile. “I can see.” 

“I swear,” you promise to Yeona, patting her back. “Dinner is almost done and then you can go to sleep, alright?” Your eyes search for Jungkook’s and you request, “Keep her awake while I get everything ready?” 

His arms stretch and extend out, and you pass off the small body in your arms. 

His lips instinctively purse to a gentle shush and rocks her gently when he feels her squirm. 

You glare. “I said keep her awake, not encourage her to count the sheep.” 

He winces. “This is new! Usually I’m doing the exact opposite.” He lifts her head, and begins his futile attempts in keeping her eyes open. “Alright, sweetheart. What mommy says, it always goes, so you’re going to have to help me out here, okay?” 

She mumbles incoherently. 

“Come on,” he nudges, “Up.” 

“Play that dancing game she likes,” you suggest. 

Taehyung from the couch, perks at that. “God, I love that game,” inputting himself in the conversation and inviting himself a second later, “Please count me in.”

“You think they have any games like that for kids?” He specifies with a swift look at his friend and Taehyung sends a throw pillow his way. 

Seokjin quickly dissipates it with a scold of how much the pillows cost and which country they were exactly from.

You eye the bar full of wires and game controllers, easily making the assumption quickly, “With the eight different consoles I’m staring at, they must.” 

His head dips down. “How does that sound, baby? You want to dance?” 

Yeona’s completely untouchable when she’s grumpy, so it doesn’t come to a surprise when her arms reels back to try to smack her father away from talking to her anymore. 

Luckily, he dodges it. 

But as her eyes open wider and catches an eyeful of Jungkook dancing along with Kiumin and Taehyung twenty minutes later, she ends up joining them in the end, the same jittery moves she first walked in with. 

You pull Hyejin out of her light conversation with Jimin, opting to question her tinted cheeks for later when it would be time to head to bed. 

Of course, Hyejin will want to pry whenever and wherever, deeming it acceptable when it’s noisy enough with the conversations and laughs airing through it. “Want to talk about it?” Hyejin, located beside you who unwraps the carefully decorated box, asks carefully. 

You feign cluelessness to the subject. “Not sure about what.” 

She pins you a stare. “Come on. I saw what happened. Everybody did.”

Shrugging, you grab the candles, sticking them carefully, three on top and three at the bottom. You would’ve gotten the actual number six, but Jungkook had argued that it would be more fun for your daughter to blow as many candles as she can, the singular candle not being enough for a kid’s satisfaction. 

“I don’t know,” you start unsurely. “It’s just weird, is all. It’s always hot and cold when I’m with him — having weird moments happen every so often and reminding him where the line starts and ends, and then acting perfectly poised when Yeona’s there.” 

Her back hits the counter as she leans, arms crossed and head shaking. “This needs to stop, _____,” she says honestly. “He can’t keep going back and forth like this, completely forgetting everything else that happened — you’re broken up for a reason.” 

“Forget it,” you dismiss with a bite to your lip. “It’s not like I stopped him on time. For a second, I forgot about everything too.” 

She’s visibly stumped, stern expression faltering and letting the silence bloom, other than the outdated pop music and stomping in the background. 

“_____..”

“I’m not going to sit here and blame him for every little thing that I could have controlled myself if I just stayed in my own lane,” distressed hands and fingers pull against your hair and you sigh out, eyes closing shut and feet swaying a little. The throbbing in your head continues and pulls at you venomously, like it couldn’t get enough from the first time. 

Hyejin’s eyes widen and she rushes over to you in full concern. “Babe, are you okay?” 

You nod, even if your furrowed brows clearly show the opposite. “Of course,” you pass off, eyes darting to the same place they’ve been at all night. 

He’s still dancing and smiling.

“He’s not my husband anymore.”

And you say it again, wanting it to stick inside of your head until it fully processes, that it’s your fault just as much as his, for playing against the papers and agreements you’ve spent so many nights and days over. A constant reminder for the rest of your life, and not the other. Not the one that consists of vows and promises. Never that one anymore. 

You muster a quick smile, turning to her gaping mouth who yearns to reach out, but you refuse it when you turn the corner, beginning to set everything up at the main table. 

“Is the birthday girl ready?” Your voice drags, upbeat lilt feigning the pounding in your head. 

High pitched squeals resound from the main room and their small feet bounce against the hardwood. 

Jungkook follows suit. 

“Me!” Yeona calls excitedly, “It’s me, Mommy!” 

“Woah,” Kiumin gapes. “You’re cake is awesome, Yeonie!” 

She giggles and hops on her tippy-toes to get a peek, “Thanks! My grandma made it.” 

“Oh,” Kiumin nods. “She’s awesome.” 

You chuckle softly at the kids, smiling down at the cute cake. You go to pull out your phone for pictures and videos to make sure she would see her work being fully appreciated. 

Jungkook hoists Yeona up on the chair, her lifted cheeks and glittering eyes proving her excitement when she sees the candles already lit. 

“Has it already been six years, already?” Seokjin asks in disbelief, plates and forks already in his hand to set down on the table. 

You nod, pouting and squishing one of her cheeks, “Already a big girl.” 

Yeona hums, “Basically a grown-up now!” 

Hyejin bursts in laughter, everybody following right behind. 

“Alright,” Jungkook sighs, arms circling around her softly, placing a kiss on the top of her head. Fondly staring down at his rapidly growing little girl, the same feeling you hold to your chest. “Don’t need to rub it into our faces, miss.” 

Your camera clicks on its own, a fond smile subconsciously forming. 

“Are we ready to sing?” Namjoon timidly asks. You turn to find him weary at the sight on the wax that begins to drip rapidly. “It’s just—the candles are starting to melt.” 

You laugh, nodding. “Alright, let’s sing.” 

It starts off normal, a little bit muted, until Kiumin bursts into a full performance for his best friend. Until Seokjin follows along and throws in an impromptu dance routine. Her father and the others join in right after, impressed at how eerily good it actually looked, almost looking rehearsed. But then you familiarize yourself with the sharp moves, the hands and arms showcasing that it was the corny traffic dance Seokjin taught them all a few years back on one drunk night.

Until eventually everybody does their best in throwing Yeona in a fit of giggles. 

You join her side and guide her into making a wish, clamping her hands shut and scrunching her eyes closed, until the commotion quiets and she opens her eyes with hopefulness written all over it. 

Kiumin is the first to question through the silence. “What’d you wish for, Yeonie?” 

She simply smiles, glancing at you from her side, and then moving her gaze straight to Jungkook. 

She subtly shakes her head, voice so soft, almost completely blurred into a whisper, “If I tell you, it’ll never come true.”

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

hi, i’m back omg. i had to take some time away bc midway of finishing this up, literally a few paragraphs away, i ended up having my mental health spiral down. but now, i’m better and managed to finish this part.

also please tell me ur thoughts! i crave validation n use ur feedback as my fuel towards anything i write. :]

* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. * .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*.* .✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.☆.

[leejungchans]

— unexpected.

🆕 ask juliet anything!! | juliet’s masterlist

word count: 2.1k

warning(s): mentions of self-doubt, insecurities and intrusive thoughts; someone says some pretty harsh words to juliet here but nothing extreme

disclaimer: please keep in mind that the trainer mentioned in this is a completely fictional character hence why his name is never mentioned!!

set in june 2019; a few days after ateez’s first win for wave

summary: in which the boys help juliet when she gets a message from someone who she never expected, nor wants, to see again.

a/n: putting juliet in a bit of Pain™️ here 😔 as always, you are always welcome to leave feedback or chat with me!! 💕💕

As Seonghwa clears away the dishes after dinner, he notices Juliet curled up on the sofa with her phone in hand. Normally, he wouldn’t think much of it, given the other members are doing the same as they lounge around the living room. But one look at the maknae’s grave expression tells him that something is wrong.

Jongho, who’s been helping Seonghwa take the plates into the kitchen, catches him staring and follows his gaze. The two silently watch as Juliet types something on her phone before furiously tapping on the screen to delete whatever she wrote with a frustrated sigh, her long acrylic nails creating a crisp tapping noise. This draws the attention of the other six boys as they all turn to look at her with concern, though she doesn’t seem to notice from being so focused on her phone.

“Minyoungie, is everything okay?” Hongjoong finally asks, sitting up from his spot on the ground.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. I’m fine, don’t worry,” she reassures with a stiff smile, but it’s evident that something is clearly bothering her.

The leader gets up to sit next to her on the couch. “Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want some time to yourself first?”

Juliet contemplates his question for a few seconds before speaking again. “It’s nothing serious, I guess,” she admits, “but one of my former trainers at SM messaged me just before dinner asking me to meet up with him, and I don’t know how to respond.”

“Oh,” Hongjoong says. The mention of her former company causes the others to pay full attention to their conversation, knowing how unpleasant her experiences with a few of her former trainers were though she never talked about such incidents in detail. “Do you want to, though?”

“No,” Juliet responds immediately, expression turning cold. “Not now, probably not ever.”

“What happened with him?” Wooyoung asks before quickly adding, “you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.”

Juliet sighs, stuffing her phone into the pocket of her hoodie before hugging her knees to her chest. “No, no. I think it’s about time I told you guys what happened exactly, I guess I never did because it felt like there was never a right time to bring him up, and also because it feels stupid to talk about it when I haven’t seen him in years, and have no intention of changing that.”

Wooyoung pats her knee comfortingly. “Tell us however much you’re okay with,” he says with a gentle smile, “you don’t have to go into full detail if you don’t want to.”

Juliet pants heavily when the music stops, crouching down to catch her breath desperately while cursing the horrible cold she’s been dealing with for the past few days.

She just knows everyone noticed how her movements have gotten more sluggish with every time they go over the dance, and the humiliation sears through her body like a raging fire.

Someone—she can’t see who and is too dizzy to even turn her head in that direction to check—comes up from behind to rub her back soothingly as her chest continues to heave from exhaustion.

“Five minutes,” the gruff voice of their dance trainer says, and the group of girls instantly scramble to where their water bottles are lined up neatly against the wall. “Baek Minyoung, not you.”

At the sound of her name, Juliet looks up to see the man crooking a finger, motioning for her to walk over to where he is in a secluded corner of the practice room. Shakily, she stands up as the other girls murmur quiet encouragements, though they quickly leave her side from the glare the man sends towards them.

Juliet knows that no amount of mental preparation is enough when it comes to this particular trainer, and it makes her heart sink deeper and deeper with every step she takes towards him.

Her head is bowed when he starts speaking, not daring to look into his flaring eyes. “What’s wrong with you?” the man wastes no time in asking accusingly. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice how terrible your dancing has gotten these few days? Do you think slackers have a place here? You looked like a dying slug out there.”

“No, Sir. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to slack off, I have a cold, which is why—”

“I’m not interested in hearing your excuses,” he cuts her off icily. “Do you know what idols do when they get sick? They keep pushing. And that’s the complete opposite of what you’re doing.”

“I understand. I’m really sorry. I will do better,” Juliet replies softly, voice barely above a whisper, hoping that he’ll let her off easy.

But today is not her lucky day. The sound of a dry chuckle sends chills down her spine.

“Do you want to know something?” She doesn’t. In fact, she dreads knowing. But something tells her she doesn’t have the luxury of choosing, so she continues to keep her head down and tries to zero in on her shoes to hold back her tears.

She can feel the weight of everyone’s stares on her back, and she wants nothing more than to disappear into thin air.

“There were discussions about adding you to Red Velvet along with Yeri. A few people thought you were too young, others saw potential in you,” the trainer sneers. “Personally, I don’t see any of that, and I’m glad that they ultimately did not debut you, because all I see is an ungrateful, lazy brat.”

Juliet bites down harder on the inside of her cheeks to keep the tears at bay, and it doesn’t take long for her to taste iron.

“You better go back there and get your crap sorted out. Because if I see you not being up to par with the others again, I will not hesitate to go to the higher-ups with this, then you can kiss your future in this industry goodbye. Am I clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Look at me when you answer.”

Juliet swears she’s never seen so much hatred and disdain in someone’s eyes until the moment their eyes meet. And it takes everything in her not to burst into tears as she repeats her response in a trembling voice.

The man scoffs, dismissing her with a wave of his hand as though batting away an insect before clapping his hands together to gain the others’ attention.

“Break’s over! Let’s hope some of you actually know what you’re doing this time,” he says scornfully, blissfully ignorant of the fact that every word he said feels like another stab to her heart.

When Juliet looks up at her reflection in the mirror, she barely recognised herself from how hollow and empty her gaze looks, a far cry from the girl who started her journey as a trainee with starry eyes and a fiery passion.

What had she become? is the last thought that comes to mind before the music starts again, and she can only hope that she can make it through the rest of the session without making a mistake or collapsing.

“So... that’s basically what happened,” Juliet chokes out, leaning her head back as she blinks back tears. To be honest, she had to give herself credit for getting through that story without crying, knowing that that incident in particular instilled a new, and much more profound, sense of fear and self-doubt within her. “You can now probably see why I don’t want to meet with him.”

San comes to sit on the armrest of the couch so he can wrap his arms around the girl. “I’m so sorry that happened, but I’m glad you’re not in that situation anymore.”

“Yeah, me too,” Juliet chuckles bitterly, still not meeting any of the boys’ eyes by looking down at her hands. “I don’t think I’ve been the same since then. I mean, not that it’s completely his fault because there were so many contributing factors, but... I’ve never looked at myself so negatively until that day... it suddenly felt like I was the only person who couldn’t see how utterly worthless I was... I don’t know.”

“But what did he text you?” Despite the anger he feels for this man for hurting her in such a way, Seonghwa still manages to stay levelheaded.

Juliet takes her phone out to reread the message. “He said he was watching M Countdown a few days ago and recognised me when we got our first win. He congratulated me and apologised for everything he said to me when I was at SM. Then he asked me if I wanted to meet with him for lunch.”

“But how did he get your number?” Yeosang wonders out loud, frowning deeply. “That’s kinda creepy.”

The girl shrugs. “Who knows? I don’t know what he’s up to now, but he likely still has contacts in the industry and asked around for my number.”

Wooyoung scoffs. “The fact that he only reached out now shows he’s probably not that apologetic, since he’s the one who implied he remembers everything he’s said to you. If he really felt guilty, he would’ve made use of those contacts of his to reach out to you to apologise a lot earlier.”

“That’s what I thought,” Juliet agrees. “The fact that he texted me right after our first win doesn’t seem like a coincidence.”

Mingi huffs. “Maybe just tell him to get lost or something. He’s not worth the time.”

“If she isn’t an idol, she can cuss him out all she wants. But if like you said,” Hongjoong muses thoughtfully, turning back to Juliet, “and he’s either still in the industry or has contacts, then you can’t be too rude to him in case he tries to use it against you to paint you as some villain. You know how some people are.”

The others nod defeatedly. He has a point.

“Then... what do we do? We can’t let her go meet with him,” San says, his arms subconsciously holding Juliet a little tighter protectively.

“Of course not,” the leader assures, “I think the best course of action is to thank him for congratulating you, accept his apology—even if you don’t really want to, it can just be for show—and politely decline his invitation because your schedule is full.”

Juliet hesitates. “But what if he says that I’m lying to get out of it?”

“I mean, it’s not really a lie,” Yunho points out. “Our tour is coming up soon and we’re gonna be busy practising for it, so it really is the truth that you don’t have the time to see him. Plus, you don’t owe him anything, who cares if he thinks you’re lying or not?”

Juliet nods slowly, fingers hovering over the keyboard as she tries to think of a response, but her mind is so overwhelmed from the sudden message and the memories that nothing comes up.

“Do you want me to help you type it?” Seonghwa asks tenderly after a while of watching her struggle to formulate anything.

“Yes, please,” Juliet says immediately, visibly relieved as she pushes her phone into Seonghwa’s hand. The oldest member cocks his head to the side while he thinks before typing something down.

A few moments later, he hands her back her phone. “Here. If you’re okay with this, then you can send it to him.”

The other boys crowd around Juliet so they can all read the message Seonghwa typed out. When done, she looks up at Hongjoong for confirmation.

“It’s good, I think,” he says approvingly. “It’s short and concise, polite but not too friendly or curt so there’s no way it can be taken out of context in case it somehow gets leaked.”

Juliet nods, pressing on the “send” button with bated breath. The moment she sends the message, she feels as though a huge weight has been lifted off her, having spent the whole time during dinner silently stressing over how she should respond to the point where she could barely get down her food.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she says, leaping off the sofa to throw her arms around Seonghwa’s neck. “I wouldn’t know what to do if it wasn’t for you guys. I actually contemplated pretending he had the wrong number or even meeting with him once so he’d leave me alone after that,” she admits, “but I’m glad you stepped in before I did either of those things.”

“And I’m glad you told us about this so we could work through it together,” Seonghwa smiles, stroking the girl’s head. “You don’t have to struggle with these things alone.”

“Now that we took care of that jerk, I think we should order chicken to celebrate!”

Seonghwa looks at the younger boy in disbelief. “Yeosang, we literally just had dinner!”

Juliet laughs. “It’s okay, there’s always room for chicken! Besides, I’m paying this time as a thank you!”

“In that case, who am I to complain?”

a/n: that incident was a pretty huge turning point for juliet in terms of her mental health. she already doesn’t feel confident in herself as most trainees are, but to hear from someone directly that she didn’t get to debut because she was apparently all those horrible things made a lasting impact on her, and since then she’s felt even more horrible about herself :( but she’s gotten a lot better at managing those feelings now and of course she has the support of the boys!!

[joonkorre]

The Winner Takes ____?

@drarrymicrofic prompt: the winner takes it all - abba

A Pyrrhic victory (/ˈpɪrɪk/ ( listen) PIRR-ik) is a victory that inflicts such a devastating toll on the victor that it is tantamount to defeat. A Pyrrhic victory takes a heavy toll that negates any true sense of achievement or damages long-term progress. (source: Wikipedia). AO3

“You said there’s something we have to discuss.”

Harry nods, suppressing a shiver. It’s cold out, middle of November, and one touch of Draco’s hand is enough to tell Harry that he’s fresh from the shop, sweaty and too warm. Squeezing the palm on his shoulder, he smiles up at Draco. The man watches at his expression for a second before retrieving his hand from Harry’s grasp.

He never does that. They always have to connect in some way, usually with over-the-table handholding.

Ah, Harry forgets; he started the habit in the first place.

“Alright,” Draco seats himself on the armchair, not eating the neatly arranged biscuits on the table, his favorite. Not even glancing at them.

“Let’s discuss.”

So Harry discusses. In better words, he talks and talks with no answer. What Hermione made him promise to say—even sat down and wrote a speech for him to remember—swirls in his head, syllables that don’t make noise, phrases that don’t make sense.

The flames in the fireplace crackle, a flare of heat and a pop of sound. A waterfall of pale-blonde hair, blue eyes that have lost their sparks, telling him that this has gone too far. Dean’s already paid, then Seamus, then Lavender, then most of the Gryffindor alumni. A bet between two festering into a conspiracy between all.

Molly’s shown him a picture of them on the front page and asked if he was sure. He’s only smiled, said ‘yes,’ and, unfortunately, meant it. Harry’s gone above and beyond for a couple of coins, to the point where he worries about abandoning what he’s worked so hard to cultivate.

“I grew a flower that can’t be bloomed in a dream that can’t come true,” croons a singer in a song Teddy likes these days. Harry wonders if Ron’s also heard of that song, so he could use it to snap Harry out of his delusion.

Harry takes a deep breath.

Everything he has to say has been painstakingly scrubbed out of him, scratching his throat raw and robbing him of air. At this point, he wonders if Hermione was right, that feigning disinterest and focusing on a promotion to work in Switzerland is better than being honest.

Draco’s eyes haven’t left Harry’s face throughout the explanation, and he doesn’t open his mouth once. Harry wishes he’d say something, do something other than bouncing his heel ever so often.

The tea’s gone cold when Harry takes a sip, giving his throat some relief. He waits.

Draco raises a hand from the armrest, calloused and huge. His index finger taps a stubbled cheek. Harry knows that finger, is familiar with its uncanny smoothness. Draco’s told him of the vicious accident that burned off three of his fingerprints during his time as an apprentice, a lesson to learn and a story to recount. Harry’s liked to rub them just because, and Draco’s let him with an indulgent smile.

“Okay.”

Harry blinks. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Draco uncrosses his legs. “Let’s break up.”

“Oh,” Harry says, “that’s all?”

Draco spreads his hands and purses his lips, brows high on his forehead. “What more do you want me to say?”

Harry watches him brush nonexistent dust off his jean-clad knees and stand up.

“I don’t—you don’t have to say anything.”

“Good to know,” Draco grabs a handful of Floo powder. “I’m going to Pansy’s.”

“But you haven’t changed yet,” Harry frowns. Pansy loves people she considers hers dearly, but if one doesn’t at least attempt to look put-together, they can’t step a foot into her house without it getting chopped off.

“I don’t think you’re in the position to be worrying about my clothes, Harry,” Draco says. He glances at the bits of Floo powder fluttering to the floor and continues.

“I’ll pack my things when I get back. Hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine,” Harry says. Draco nods once and turns to the fireplace. Without thinking, Harry stands up. “Why’re you going to Pansy’s?”

Draco eyes him like he’s sick in the head. “To cry over being dumped by the Great Savior, why else?”

“Oh, of fucking course you still see me like that,” Harry can’t stop himself from snarling. “Have I ever been anything but The Fucking Boy Who Lived to you?”

Draco’s lips flatten to a thin line.

He’s exhausted, Harry realizes. His shift ended later than Harry’s at the Ministry today, yet he went home just to sit through this.

A weary sigh.

“You know the answer to that.”

Harry deflates. Does he?

Draco’s gaze lingers for another second.

“Bye, then,” he says. With a swift turn, he faces the fireplace, squaring his shoulders.

Draco’s voice doesn’t waver as he says, “Parkinson Estate.” With his old shirt stained with drying sweat, stuffed in a dirty pair of overalls, he walks forward, engulfed by a roar of green.

It’s quiet. The fireplace seems more subdued, as if it only deigns to burn enough to warm a single person instead of two. Harry falls back against his armchair, staring at nothing. His temples ache for some reason, like he’s spent the past hour stretching his unfocused eyes into slants to see better. If it is so, it doesn’t work. Harry feels like he’s blinder than ever.

Never mind, he has things to do. Has to take a shower, get dressed, trim his beard. Put on his best shoes and hit the Leaky, catching Seamus’s signature grin as he waits for Harry to get to the table and share the good news. Inform everybody that he’s done it, has cut things off and drawn this five-year epic of a ruse to a close. Order grumbling friends to pay up, their fault for betting that he wouldn’t have the balls to do it within 3 days.

Has to get some drinks to start, then head to a proper club, it’s nearly the weekend. Avoid the crushing disappointment that Luna has no qualm hiding from him. Make it back home after midnight, way after Draco’s returned to pack his bags—he doesn’t like to stay out past 11—and gone, gone, gone. Make it back home to a half-empty house, never again whole.

“Jesus,” Harry whispers.

His glasses have been pushed up without noticing, leaving space for his hands to press against closed eyes. Stars burst behind his eyelids, a squeezing pain. He presses harder like he’s got something to prove.

The vase on the coffee table is filled with blooms, pinks and whites galore, handpicked by Harry himself just last week. It was the first vase Draco’s blown for him, stained using cheap acrylic paint and glue. It was clumsily done and it shows, but it’s beautiful.

Harry’s hands can’t fall from his eyes, lest he imagines the damn thing cracking open and crashing onto the floor, leaving nothing left but millions and millions of tiny pieces. Delicate glass, delicate petals.

He curls into himself and doesn’t make a sound.

[onmymasa22]

I told someone I'm an artist and she asked what I thought about ai taking over the art world. My answer is that I don't find it problem because I think- let people who appreciate it use or buy it. I can't really have an actual opinion because I don't appreciate it. I dont appreciate machine made things as much as hand made, I don't appreciate when artists sell prints of their paintings and I don't even appreciate acrylic as much oil because I see it as a fake not as good copy. Like a lab grown diamond ring. I don't like not as good copies when I can have the real thing. But there are people who don't care. They don't care if their dress came from shein or ally express. And as a seller I would 2100 shekel a month to live alone

She said it's OK to come those few days late

I do volunteering for perach and get more money, or volunteering for kibbutz and have to pay bnei akiva

140 hours for the year

She said to not wait

It's

הדבר הכי מתומתם וטיפשי שראיתי היום. למה? כי דבר אחד, האסוסיאציה של שימוש בנקודה הזאת היא אצל אנשים שרוצים לזהות את עצמם בתחילת שיחה. שזה בסדר, אבל זה לא מחובר לאוכלוסיית המכללה. דבר שני, ומה שממש מכאיס אותי הוא שבאמת?! בתור מכללה שכלכך מכללה לבנות, ואיזה כיף שיש מכללה שבנות יכולות ללמוד אמנות כי בהיסטוריה היו בקושי אמניות! ואחרי שחקרנו נשיות בלימודים, זה מה שעושים? אנחנו מספר שתיים עוד פעם? אנחנו בצד?

I'm not interested in creating art that's hyper realistic. I'm interested in making art that gives me the chills. Where I have this weird sense of ruach hakodesh. That I want to cry and a shiver runs down my spine when I do something right. When I have the idea. When I capture something. That's what I go for.

Maybe hashem gave me doron not because I'd like him, but because he did. But did I do what I was supposed to do? What was I supposed to do with doron. Why did I meet him.

Maybe that's what it means when hashem gave us the torah. He gave us the most important thing

Gift

Doron was a gift I couldn't receive. It wasn't for me to receive, I wasn't the right address.

Hi ezra, it's dalya friedman. I just wanted to say that I really appreciate your work and setting up events for us. Honestly this year I felt really alone in Jerusalem, and I had only Israeli friends which is great but i didnt feel like i had a community. Going on the tzippori shabbaton and the Thursday trip allowed me to meet people who understand me from the get- go. I just think that not everyone who deserves a written out thank you gets one, and I wanted for you and your family to have a reminder how much what you do makes a difference because I'm sure along the way there might have been sacrifices. So thank you and everyone around you for providing a platform where we can have a good time and enjoy all the beautiful things about Judaism without judgement or strings. Without that, I think a lot of people including myself would having a hard time sticking around both in Israel and in a relationship with hashem.

U need to know yourself and who u are. And once u know that u r a good person, u start treating people according to who u are, not who they are. I'm not a person who argues back. I'm a person who treats people with dignity.

I was angry. I was angry about being in the hospital all alone for hours. Where they asked me if I had anyone to be with me at the moment. I was angry that my parents weren't there to be with me making all the nurses crazy cuz that's what parents do. I had to do a CT alone. I had to do the stitches alone.

Shai

[kaitycole]

“Lipschitz!”

Summary: Sugawara is just trying to find himself, how does that work out for him?

Pairing: Sugawara x Reader

Word Count: 2068

Warnings: Angst. Mentions of murder, cheating, alcohol, drowning 

A/N: This is the official last chapter, I’m still mulling over the possibility of an epilogue. Thank you so much to all of you who supported this series from the beginning. I hope I did it justice!

“Do you want to tell me a little bit about Sugawara?” She stretches her neck to the left and then right, tapping her pen on the legal pad.

“Sure.” You smile at the journalist, but it never really touches your eyes.

*                      * “Just a minute longer, I swear.”

You sighed, your boyfriend had said that same line five minutes ago. You were restless, legs stiff from not moving and all you could think of was how good it would feel when you could finally stretch. When you could finally put on something warm, the sheer fabric he had delicately draped over you wasn’t cutting it anymore, your bare skin felt the chill from the cool air that blew in through the opened window.

“You said that for the last five minutes, Kōshi.”

The silver-haired man just laughed behind the canvas, paintbrush held in the air as he narrowed his eyes looking at his work, then up at you then back to the painting. You leaned up just enough to see that he was biting the end of the brush which you knew meant that he was conflicted. All artists are their own worst critics, but sometimes you felt Suga was worse than Van Gogh, Monet and even Pollock at times. Not that you really had any frame of reference, but still.

Watching him painstakingly criticize his own work, endlessly making changes that he only deemed made the pieces worse was really hard for you, watching the person you love drive themselves into a dark hole of perfectionism took a toll on the both of you. But you loved him and at the end of the day, that made it all better, right?

After what felt like forever, you finally saw his signature smile, the one that was bigger than life and he sat down his paint palette then swirled the brush in his murky colored water cup. You watched his shoulders relax before he nodded and you knew that he was finally done.

“Lemme see! Lemme see!” You squealed as he walked closer to you, sitting next to you on the sofa you had been lounged out on.

He kissed you, the paint on his hands and fingers transferred to your skin as he grabbed your face. You scrunched up your nose as the cool wet sensation before kissing him back.

“Maybe tomorrow.” He peppered your face with kisses as you both laughed. His hands trailed down your arms and across your upper chest, his lips were pressed up against yours again.

“You’re going to get paint all over me!” You giggled, his lips trailed across your jaw and down your neck.

“That’s okay.” His eyes met yours, “you’ll become my greatest master piece.”

*                      * “They say that artists can be very passionate people.”

A laugh escapes you and Alex looks at you confused, “that’s a bit of an understatement.”

“It couldn’t have been easy on your relationship. Artists tend to struggle for a while before gaining notoriety.”

“He worked as an elementary school teacher during the day. It wasn’t the money that caused issues, it was watching him tear himself apart that was the hardest.”

“What do you mean by that?” “No one was harder on him about his art than he was. He could produce something that was immaculate, but he’d say his students’ finger paintings were better.” You take a deep breath, “it was hard watching him beat himself over things I couldn’t help fix.”

“What changed? How did you go from wanting what’s best for him to…being in here?”

“A lot. A lot changed.”

*                      * It started when he decided to go out one night with his coworkers for drinks one Friday night. You didn’t mind it, you really didn’t because you trusted Suga and you enjoyed seeing him relax for the first time in a while. What did bother you was the fact that it seemed the occasional Friday night turned into the whole weekend to where he spent more days of the week out than at home.

Your knees were pulled up to your chest while you sat on the couch, a commercial playing on the TV while you scroll through your phone. When that stopped being a solace for you, you tossed it across the couch, deciding to stroll through his art studio. The smell that hit you when you opened the door was a mix of acrylic paint and peppermint, it was undeniably Suga. You saw one of his easels covered with a sheet which intrigued you, it wasn’t often that you didn’t see his work.

But once the sheet came off, you wished you never had. Your stomach dropped. It was like all of the memories you had spent making since high school, since college, shattered and all the jagged edges pierced into your heart as it sank. You could tell by the pose it was the one he had painted of you a couple months ago, the one that he told you wasn’t ready. Now you understood what he meant by ‘not ready’, it was your pose, but it wasn’t your body, wasn’t your face. You weren’t sure who it was but you knew it wasn’t you, the curves and lines, they didn’t belong to you. Tears welled in your eyes as you chewed on your bottom lip, realizing that while you laid completely exposed to him, his mind was clearly on whoever was in this painting.

Three long hours had passed before he stumbled into your shared apartment, crashing into everything he possibly could, waking you from your sleep. While his head hurt from the alcohol, yours hurt from crying. You got up, walking in just soon enough to watch your boyfriend fall onto the couch face first.

“Suga?” You leaned against the door frame.

He hummed something in response into the cushion.

“Kōshi? Babe?” You walked through the room, crouching down next to his head before placing a hand on his back.

He mustered up just enough strength to turn to face you, “I didn’t mean to wake up, sweetness.”

His innocent words, gentle tone, the use of the nickname reserved for only him, didn’t stop the tears from slipping down your cheeks, doesn’t untwist the knot that tightening in your stomach,  doesn’t remove the fact that you can’t help the one person that you want to.

After that night, you watched him change. He spent more time in his art studio, face covered with paint smudges, a sight you thought was absolutely adorable. He seemed happier, constantly dragging you into the studio to show off various artworks he’d finished. Everything was perfect, until he came home smelling like cheap perfume and stale beer.

*                      * “So he was cheating?”

You smile politely which catches Alex off guard, placing your elbow on the counter in front of you, as you rest your chin on the palm of your hand as you look at her. “He said he was trying to find himself.”

“Trying to find himself?” A look of pure bewilderment crossed Alex’s face.

“That’s the exact expression I wore when I asked him the same thing.”

*                      * “What the hell does that mean? Finding yourself?” You put air quotes around the last two words. There was a sense of anger running up your spine, you were tightly clenching your fists.

“I just think that I need to let loose. To learn how to breathe.” He flicked the paint brush against the blank canvas, not bothering to even look at you.

They say that smells can trigger memories, something with the olfactory system being located in the same part of the brain that effects emotions and creativity. Something about the fact that certain smells can affect the region of the brain that’s responsible for storing our emotional memories. That’s why you assumed whenever you smelled acrylic paint you thought of Kōshi, of the one person you thought would never let you down.

But now the smell just made you nauseous, made your heart hurt because whoever this silver-haired man in front of you, it wasn’t the love of your life. Wasn’t the boyfriend you’d been with for years. No, because that man would never hurt you like this, would never refuse to look at you when he all but broke your heart.

“I didn’t realize I was suffocating you, thought I was just being supportive!”

You yelled and then he yelled then you yelled some more and before you knew it the paintbrush hit the floor with so much force it bounced a bit. He shook his head storming passed you, his shoulder hit yours but he didn’t stop. The walls vibrated when he slammed it shut, leaving you leaning against the door frame, lip quivering.

** You stormed through his studio, grabbing all the gallons of paint you could carry, making a few more trips than the anger in you wanted. You started to fill the bathtub, the various colors muddling together, the thick liquid clung to the lining of the tub.

A smirk covered your lips as you thought back to how frustrated Suga would get when colors mixed like this, turning a disgusting brown that no artist would make on purpose. You remembered him saying the color reminded him of dirty paint water, somehow this all felt ironic.

Your foot catches on the rug into rug and you tripped, the empty red paint can fell from your hand; thin splatters clung to the white wall next to you.

*                      * Alex takes a deep breath, sitting her pen down before looking up at you. Hearing these crimes had progressively gotten worse as the interviews went by though she came into them thinking it’d get easier.

“Why didn’t you just use water?”

You lean forwards, chin still on the palm of your hand, teeth showing as you smile. “I thought paint gave the scene a more artistic flair.”

*                      * You felt Sugawara’s resistance slowly fade as he stopped trying to push his hands up, stopped trying to lift his head out of the tub of paint. His feet stopped kicking against the floor, his body slowly became lifeless under your hold. You stood up, leaving his hunched over the side of the tub, his beautiful silver hair now covered in the brown paint mixture.

They say when someone drowns, their entire body fights to survive. There’s panic, the sheer realization of what’s happening and the frightening moment you know you don’t have an idea of what to do. The moment when you subconsciously know you’re about to lose consciousness, your lungs going against the logic of not breathing in the water to try to salvage your existence. Body going into overdrive trying to save you, trying to get much needed air into your lungs. Some who have survived drowning say they had flashbacks, snippets of their life that flash through their mind as consciousness faded.

You wondered if Suga felt that panic, if his body had registered what was happening, or if the alcohol had clouded some of that. You wondered if he had fought as hard as he could’ve or if his inebriated state had lowered his abilities. You wondered if he saw flashbacks and what were they of. Did he see the two of you? The long years you had spent by his side, supporting every decision that he had made, giving up the few things you wanted for his dreams. Or did he see those women? The drunken nights spent at the bar, the woman he was thinking of when he was painting you, the owner of the cheap perfume he would come home smelling like.

*                      * “Most people just break up with their lover when they discover they’re cheating.” Alex looks at you pointedly.

“We did, some could say we ended our relationship due to artistic differences.”

Alex looks at you puzzled, “I’m not sure I follow.”

You stand up, stepping as close to the glass as the counter will allow before slamming yours on the glass while pressing your face against it. Alex jumps back in her seat, her chair scooting against the tiles loudly, her heart thumping against her chest. She watches the guard rush over, grabbing you away from the divider and pulling you out of the room.

“He saw himself alive and I saw him dead.”

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