#my parent's divorced when i was three so he stopped coming with us out to the cabin around the same time
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rcmclachlan · 5 months ago
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Relative Value (buck/tommy)
"And I feel for her, you know? I really do. The dissolution of a relationship, especially a marriage, feels like you're drowning in hot tar, and you spend every waking moment kicking your way to the surface to try and breathe. But if she brings up her divorce again while I'm in the middle of peeing? I'm going to divorce her head from her body."
Buck makes a face at the thought of Maddie's decapitated coworker. "Please don't send the 118 to that scene. I'm not so great with entrails these days. Send the 147—they deserve it after they botched that extrication on Monday." 
Maddie laughs, the sound tinny but comfortingly familiar coming through his phone's speakers. She'd propped her phone on Jee-Yun's dresser halfway through the call so she could put away laundry while she talked, and for the last five minutes he's been watching her fold Jee's clothes like she's being judged at the Olympics. 
It's nice to see that hasn't changed. Maddie should've been in jail years ago for the way she loads a dishwasher, but when it comes to laundry she's a goddamn wizard. When he was younger, his parents saddled him with taking out the trash and doing the dishes, but putting away the laundry was always Maddie's chore. She actually enjoyed it, the weirdo. She used to tell him the first whiff of warm Snuggle right out of the dryer was a cure-all. Also, she can fold a fitted sheet in under ten seconds. He'd timed her once.
Maddie takes an eye-wateringly orange shirt out of the laundry basket and with three decisive motions turns it into a perfect rectangle. If Jee ever decides she wants to go deer hunting, she'll be all set. "Since when are you not good with entrails?" 
"Since that guy was ripped in half last week."
It'd easily been the grizzliest car crash he'd ever been called to. It made the 405 pileup a few years back look like Disney on Ice. About halfway through tagging and bagging almost a dozen casualties strewn all over the westbound lanes of the Pomona Freeway, the guy responsible for the crash snapped awake while Hen and Chimney were setting up and drove off in a panic. The top-half of the motorist stuck under his car was dragged maybe sixty feet, and Buck had a front row seat to the sight of the poor guy's nerves and vasculature trailing behind him like squid tentacles before the driver came to a stop by hitting yet another car. 
"I'm also not eating spaghetti for the foreseeable future, FYI," he adds.
Maddie wrinkles her nose. "Okay, changing the subject: when do you leave again?"
It wouldn't be an overstatement to say the smile that question invokes explodes over his face. He feels it happen; the spark eats the fuse so quickly there's barely any lead-up and his cheeks burn from the sheer magnitude of the blast. 
"You look deranged," Maddie says, laughing.
"I feel deranged." He's been like this all week and it's starting to scare everyone. Chimney keeps leaving pamphlets for Clozaril in his locker. "Tomorrow morning. We're picking up the bird right after we do a coffee run."
"I wish my boyfriend was whisking me away to the mountains for a romantic getaway." Maddie heaves a theatrical sigh. "My husband says the best he can do is Shake Shack."
The whole thing is absolutely bonkers. He'd been minding his own business, half-watching a documentary about volcanoes with his feet in Tommy's lap, when they showed some insanely beautiful footage of Mount Rainier. And although his mind was focused on completing level 29 of Euclidea, his mouth was busy saying, "I've always wanted to go there." 
Thumb digging into Buck's instep, Tommy had made a thoughtful sound and said, "I'd tapped a buddy of mine to get us into Griffith Observatory after hours, but I like your idea way better. Let's do it."
If someone had told Buck 1.0 that someday a beast of a man would be flying him by helicopter to the Cascades for their two-year anniversary, he would've laughed his way into a pneumothorax. And then he would've tried to fuck his nurse. 
He looks across the living room to where their bags have been sitting, fully packed, since last night, and grins. "Tell Chim he needs to step up his game. You're worth Zankou, at least."
Maddie snorts. "Gee, thanks."
Behind her, there's unexpected movement, and every muscle in his body locks up as his heart stops in a moment of brief, blinding terror. 
It's stupid to feel this way after seven years, but a little part of him is still waiting for Doug to crawl out of the shadows like a wraith to finish what he tried to do. He's spent many a sleepless night spiraling to the soundtrack of Chimney's desperate, Do you know he's dead for sure? Did you see a body?
Buck did see his body, but a little voice sometimes whispers to him from some deep, dark place at two in the morning: it was freezing that day. It could've slowed the bleeding, could've kept him alive long enough to go to a hospital. You don't know what happened after the ambulance left with him. What if he survived? What if he's out there right now, just biding his time?
Which are bad and ridiculous thoughts to have because he knows that monster is dead, and frankly he's got better things to think about than Doug, who's absolutely having his skin torn off in hell right now—especially since his adorable, perfect niece is the one who came into the room. 
"Say hi to your uncle, Jee," Maddie says, smiling. In her hands, a pair of polka dot leggings becomes a polka dot brick with hospital corners. 
Jee-Yun jumps a little like she can't quite see him, and Maddie goes over to the dresser to obligingly tilt the camera down. 
"Hi, Uncle Buck." Jee-Yun waves, then rises an inch or two higher in the frame, and he realizes she's standing on her tiptoes. She cranes her head, moving it a bit from side to side like she's looking for something. After a few seconds, she drops back down, grimacing in disappointment.
He looks over his shoulder, but no one's there. "Sorry, kiddo, it's just me."
"Just you is fine, always," Maddie immediately pipes up, and he ducks his head with a smile. It's always nice to hear her say that. "It's just that… well, she had a question and we weren't sure if you were the one we should be asking."
Buck grins. "Lay it on me, Jee."
It's always a little hilarious to watch how Jee reacts when the spotlight's on her. She bounces and twirls a little, and her whale-spout pigtails move with her. For someone getting ready to enter kindergarten, she's got the stage presence of a Broadway star. "Uncle Buck, how do airplanes fly when they're so big and heavy?"
He opens his mouth to answer her, but there's nothing there, just an empty pocket of air that tastes vaguely like the ham sandwich he had for lunch. He closes his mouth with a click, stymied. He could've sworn he knew this one. Something about lift and drag?
"Jee, I-I'm sorry. I don't know off the top of my head. I could look it up for you?"
A little groan escapes her, but it turns into a shriek when a tie-dyed sweatshirt comes winging from off-camera and lands on her head. Jee wrestles the shirt away, static making her hair cling to her face, which she swipes with a whine. 
"That's why I wanted to ask Uncle Tommy!"
Buck has forgotten a lot about the tsunami. Time has softened the memory of how warm the water was, how it shoved its way into his mouth and nostrils like it was trying to find a way inside his veins, and that it was filled with so much debris it scored the insides of his cheeks bloody. But the one thing he never lost was how his feet went out from under him when that first wave hit like a freight train. He hasn't been able to ride a roller coaster since: he doesn't see the need to pay to experience the feeling of free fall again. He remembers every second of it like it just happened. 
He may be sitting on the couch with his feet firmly on the floor, but his stomach is thrilling at the familiar sensation of being completely unmoored. Only instead of being dragged into the dark, he's being pulled up into endless blue. 
Breathless with stratospheric joy, he digs his trembling fingers into his knees like it's going to do anything to keep him grounded, and chokes out, "Who, Jee?"
The look Jee turns on the camera is so confused that Buck isn't sure he was even using real words just then. It could've been a jumble of sounds falling from his mouth like aquarium gravel. 
"Uncle Tommy," Jee says, with the patient air of someone who forgot they were talking to an idiot. "It's okay if you don't know about airplanes, Uncle Buck. You drive fire trucks."
He's pretty sure he was just insulted. Behind Jee, Maddie's wide-eyed and mouthing an ecstatic oh my god! 
"Tell you what. When—" he swallows thickly, overcome "—Uncle Tommy wakes up from his nap, I'll have him call you and he can tell you all about how planes stay up in the air."
She mulls it over, and he can see the outline of her tongue poking the inside of her cheek like she's swishing the offer around in her mouth. Finally, she gives him two decisive nods of her head that has her pigtails bouncing. "Okay. When's that?"
"I-I don't know. Soon." If the lightning had struck a few feet away from him instead of dead-on, he thinks it would've felt like this. Any second now he's going to vibrate out of his skin and scar Jee for life. "Maybe I should go check on him." 
"I think that's a good idea," Maddie says cheerfully, coming into the foreground. Her eyes are glossy and red, and even with two screens and several miles between them it feels like she's about to wrap him up in the warmest hug. "Why don't we let you go for now? Uncle Tommy can give us a buzz later."
"Yeah, t-that sounds like a plan." He knows he's rocking the deranged look again, except it's somehow so much worse. He doesn't care. He hopes his face gets stuck like this. When he rolls into the station two weeks from tomorrow, he's going to take every pamphlet Chimney shoves at him and eat them.
Maddie's grin is threatening to split her face in half. "Give Uncle Tommy a big kiss from us."
He's going to do way more than that. "You bet. Bye, Mads. Bye, Jee!"
The very second the call ends, he's on his feet and practically running down the hall. Tommy had been coming off a rough 24 earlier when he'd sloppily kissed Buck and then staggered into the bedroom. It's been almost three hours and Buck hasn't heard a peep since. 
Buck makes sure to lift the bedroom door when he opens it so the hinges don't creak, and when he sees Tommy—sprawled diagonally across the mattress with his jeans still on and enough drool soaked into the pillowcase to fill a bathtub—his knees decide it's the perfect time to stop working. He clutches the door frame so he doesn't crumble to the floor under the weight of all this euphoria.
Jee thinks of Tommy as family. It's not hard to figure out the logic she must be using to get there: she has an Uncle Buck, who has had a Tommy for as long as she's been making real memories, and therefore… 
He can't help but wonder who else in the world is operating on that same intel. Jee has no doubt told the teachers at her kindergarten about her mom and dad and her amazingly cool Uncle Buck, but maybe she's also told them about her other uncle, who always lets her ride on his shoulders when they go to the park and who talks to her like she's a forty-seven-year old at brunch. Maybe she's told kids at the playground about the uncle who knows why planes stay in the air and who folded himself into a pretzel because she wanted him to sit next to her at the kids' table last Friendsgiving. Maybe she's drawn shitty pictures in crayon of two stick figures holding hands under a smiling sun, and when her classmates ask who they're supposed to be, she tells them, "That's my Uncle Buck and my Uncle Tommy." 
Inhaling shakily, he makes himself move from the doorway to the bed, crawling in as gingerly as he can. It's all for nothing, though, because Tommy cracks an eye open and fixes it on him. Buck scrunches his face up in apology, but Tommy just smiles a little and tugs Buck down, pressing his face into the space between Buck's neck and shoulder and settling with a hum.
Buck slides a hand into his hair and holds him close, breathing in old sweat and a hint of his own shampoo. "I love you, Uncle Tommy."
"If this is a new kink, I'm going to need at least another two hours of sleep before I'm prepared to tackle it," Tommy mumbles.��
Choking on laughter, Buck presses a kiss to the side of his head and wonders if it's possible to die of happiness. "Not quite. Your niece has a question about airplanes and wants you to call her when you wake up."
When there's no immediate answer, Buck is sure Tommy's fallen back to sleep, but then Tommy shifts a little in his arms, presses a kiss to his shoulder, and murmurs warmly, "Will do."
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junghelioseok · 1 year ago
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miss taken.
↳ you pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience.
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◇ jungkook x reader ◇ fluff | smut | teacher!au | single parent!au | e2l ◇ 20.3k [1/1]
❛❛ our kids are bitter rivals and the only time we ever meet is when we’re both called to the principal’s office and whatever maybe i think you’re kind of cute but your kid’s a monster and ALSO someone keeps buying the last everything bagel at my favorite coffee shop 2 minutes before i get there in the morning and has heard about my plight and has started leaving me bragging notes about it ❜❜
notes: fic number two in the serendipity series is here at last!!! this took me like a million and a half years to finish because Real Life happened but here we finally are! also, i changed the type of bagel that the story is centered around, because i honestly didn’t come to like everything bagels until relatively recently and i will still only eat it if it’s part of a bagel sandwich because? just having cream cheese or whatever on an everything bagel feels kind of unhinged to me! but that’s neither here nor there and no one is here for my bagel opinions so! hope you enjoy the story!!! 💕
⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.
warnings: dilf!jk, some kissing and hand stuff, ✨sexual tension✨ but nothing too terribly explicit tbh
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Silence has never sounded louder. 
You drum your fingers against the armrest of your chair, nails clacking against the cheap plastic. On the wall, the second hand of the clock completes yet another revolution, and you glance over when your companion sighs, plucks off her reading glasses, and sets them down on the desk beside the placard that houses her title: Principal Pamela Baker, Hybe Academy. 
A woman nearing her fifties, Pam has sandy blonde hair cut into a neat bob and an enviable ability to pull off any lipstick color, no matter how bold. You’re lucky enough to call her both a friend and a mentor, and when she mutters a curse under her breath, you chuckle. “Late again,” she huffs, offering you a wry smile before leaning back in her seat and casting her gaze skyward. “Typical.”
“You know what these corporate types are like, Pam,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “They have zero regard for anyone else’s time. He was twenty minutes late to our parent-teacher conference last semester, so don’t take it personally.”
“Believe me, I know plenty of men like Jungkook Jeon,” Pam says with another sigh, this one heavier and longer than the last. “I even married one, you know. But that was before I came to my senses and divorced his ass. Best decision of my life, right after getting my tubes tied.”
“Three kids was enough for you?” you tease, and Pam snorts out a laugh. 
“More than enough,” she replies. “What about you, though? Thinking of having another kid anytime soon?”
“I don’t think so… well, not anytime soon, at least. Ask me again in—” 
The sound of a doorknob turning stops you in your tracks, and a moment later, the door to the office swings open with a dull click. 
“Principal Baker. Miss {L/N}.” Jungkook Jeon is standing at the threshold in a wool coat the color of charcoal, the buttons of which are undone to reveal the undoubtedly designer suit underneath. His dark hair is parted neatly across his forehead, still sprinkled with lingering snowflakes from his journey here, and you bite back the urge to remark on his tardiness. Instead, you stand when your boss stands up, mustering up every ounce of professionalism you possibly can.
“Mr. Jeon,” Pam says, giving his hand a firm shake before gesturing to the empty chair beside you. “It’s nice to see you again. Please, take a seat.”
You incline your head in Jungkook’s direction as he lowers himself into the plastic chair, the legs scraping against the tiled floor in protest as he adjusts his position. “Hello, Mr. Jeon. Thank you for finally joining us.”
If Jungkook notices the snarky inflection of your tone, he doesn’t let it show. He merely levels you with a cool gaze, blinking lazily before turning to your boss. “Excuse my tardiness,” he says, smoothing down the lapels of his black jacket and straightening his slate blue tie. “I got here as fast as I could. Where is my daughter?”
Pam gestures toward the door. “Daeun is down the hall in the library, under Mr. Kim’s supervision. I thought it best if we spoke without the children first.”
The dark-haired man hums. “What happened, Principal? You were rather vague on the phone.”
Pam nods, and you exchange looks before she turns her attention back to Jungkook. “Yes, well, as I explained on the phone, there was an incident. Daeun forcefully took her classmate’s book during the free reading period, and refused to return it when asked.”
At that, Jungkook casts you another glance. “I see. And I presume the classmate was Miss {L/N}’s daughter?”
“It was,” you confirm, taking care to keep your tone even despite the irritation simmering in your belly. “This is the second time Trixie’s been targeted by your daughter, Mr. Jeon. Do you think that’s a coincidence?”
Jungkook’s eyes narrow, his lips twisting into a displeased frown. “I'm not sure I like what you’re implying, Miss {L/N}.”
The iciness in his voice is unmistakable, but you have fifteen minutes’ worth of annoyance festering in your belly—annoyance that has amplified with every second that he made you wait. That, combined with his behavior last semester is enough to stir that annoyance into full-blown anger. He’s been short with you every time you’ve called to talk about his daughter’s progress in class, and you very nearly canceled his eight o’clock appointment to meet with you during December’s parent-teacher conferences. You remember pulling up his contact information nineteen minutes after eight, thumb hovering over the call button on your phone when he finally burst into your classroom. No preamble, and no apology. He just sat down, as if nothing was amiss, and began asking about Daeun’s grades in math.
It’s no wonder you’ve never heard so much as a word about a Mrs. Jeon. The nosy part of your brain wonders about Jungkook’s home life on occasion, and the more vindictive part relishes in the fact that he’s no doubt a single parent. Any woman would have to be a saint to put up with Jungkook Jeon, you reason, because as far as you’re concerned, he’s the devil. 
The devil dressed in head-to-toe Armani, who is currently fixing you with a look that could temper steel. 
“Mr. Jeon.” Pam, as always, is quick to diffuse the sudden tension that’s settled over her office. “No one is implying anything here. We just want to have a frank, civil discussion about Daeun’s behavior, and see if you can think of anything that may be causing her to act out. A recent change in her life, perhaps? Something new that she hasn’t quite adjusted to yet?”
You take a deep breath, releasing it through your nose before putting your professional mask back on. “Her shift in behavior was extremely sudden,” you chime in, watching out of the corner of your eye as Pam inclines her head in agreement. “Laughing when Trixie and another classmate slipped and fell on the ice, and now this? I don’t believe for a minute that this change came out of nowhere—something must have caused it. Daeun is a smart girl, Mr. Jeon. She’s outgoing and a little rambunctious, but she’s always been kind to her classmates in the past. Today’s behavior was incredibly out of character for her.”
A beat of silence passes, as your words fade into silence. Then Jungkook shifts in his seat, crossing one leg over the other as he turns his full attention to you. “We keep talking about Daeun as if she was the only child involved in this incident, Miss {L/N}. Why don’t we talk about your daughter instead? Trixie, is it?”
And just like that, your mask begins to splinter at the edges. “Trixie was reading quietly at the table when Daeun approached her,” you reply coolly. “She didn’t instigate anything, Mr. Jeon.”
“Oh, and I’m supposed to take your word for it?” Jungkook huffs out a humorless chuckle, leaning back in his seat. “I think you, of all people, might be a little bit biased.”
Fury flares in your belly, hot and bright. “I am a professional, Mr. Jeon,” you manage between clenched teeth. “I care about all of my students equally, and treat them as such. But I don’t expect you to understand that.”
Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, but your boss stops him before he can utter a single syllable. “I think that’s enough for today,” Pam says, rising to her feet and stepping around her desk to shake Jungkook’s hand. Even in heels, she only comes up to his chest, and you would have laughed at the height disparity if it weren’t for the rage still bubbling through your veins. “Like I said before, the girls are just down the hall with Mr. Kim. If you’ll follow me…”
Pam ushers Jungkook out of the office, chattering mindlessly about the cafeteria renovations that are underway—funded in large part by Jungkook himself, you’re certain. As much as you’ve grown to dislike the man, you know that he cares deeply about education and donates a rather large sum to your school every year. Trailing after them by a few paces, you listen as Pam points out a row of plaques hanging on the wall, honoring distinguished students and teachers alike.
The library, when you reach it, is empty save for three figures seated at one of several rectangular tables that occupy the middle of the room. Taehyung Kim, the copper-haired librarian, springs out of his seat upon your arrival, and you wave tiredly as he approaches with a warm, affable grin. 
“Welcome!” Taehyung says, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses before extending a hand for Jungkook to shake. “You must be Daeun’s dad. I’m Taehyung Kim, the librarian here at Hybe.” 
“Jungkook Jeon.” Then Jungkook’s gaze flits past him to where the two children are seated opposite one another. Daeun is a slender, petite girl with dark hair braided neatly down her back and round, brown eyes that are narrowed in concentration as she colors in a picture of a lion. Quietly, Jungkook strides over to his daughter, kneeling down beside her chair until he’s eye-level. “Hey, Daeun,” you hear him murmur. “What happened today, hmm?”
You, meanwhile, join your own daughter at the table, sitting down in the chair Taehyung abandoned and taking in the paper and coloring utensils scattered across the surface “Hey, jitterbug,” you murmur. “Were you nice to Mr. Kim while I was gone?”
“Tae read us a book about butterflies,” Trixie replies, shrugging her little shoulders. “He taught us about migration.”
You chuckle. “Migration, huh? That sounds interesting. You want to tell me all about it on the drive home?”
Trixie nods, her pigtails bobbing in time with the movement. Then she glances over to where Jungkook is instructing Daeun to pack up her backpack, tucking books and notebooks neatly inside while Daeun collects her crayons and puts them into a sparkly little pink case. “Are we going home now?”
“Soon, bug,” you promise. “I just have to finish up with Mr. Jeon and Principal Baker, okay?”
“Okay,” Trixie says agreeably, returning to her drawing. Pam gestures for you to join her and Jungkook near the library doors, and you meet Taehyung’s gaze as you brush past where he’s pulling a few books down for a display. Good luck, he mouths, and you suppress the urge to make a face. Instead, you mouth a quick thanks back, offering Daeun a quick smile as well before joining her father and your boss at the door. 
“Mr. Jeon,” Pam says, casting a surreptitious glance toward Daeun and Trixie before lowering her voice. “I don’t think you should ignore this behavior from your daughter. If there’s something in her home life that is making her act out, I can recommend a few counselors who would be more than happy to speak with the two of y—”
Jungkook shakes his head, a lock of dark hair coming loose from whatever gel he’s used to style it. “With all due respect, Principal Baker, I don’t appreciate my parenting abilities being called into question. I think it’s probably best if Daeun and I take our leave.”
Pam sighs. “Mr. Jeon, I don’t mean to offend. But Daeun did take a book out of Trixie’s hands.”
“And I’ll be sure to discipline her for that,” Jungkook replies. “But if this is all over a book, Principal, I think the solution is simple. I can easily buy her whatever book she needs.”
“I’m not so sure it’s about the book itself,” you point out. “Tae—I mean, Mr. Kim—has multiple copies of Charlotte’s Web available for the students.”
Jungkook hums and turns up the collar of his wool coat, pulling it snug around his throat. “Nonetheless, I think we’re done here. Daeun, we’re leaving.”
The six-year-old looks up from the book Taehyung has checked out for her and immediately runs over to grab her father’s extended hand. “Are we going home?” she asks quietly, and he nods. 
“Yeah, we are, sweetheart. Come on. Say bye to your teachers.”
Obediently, Daeun waves to you and Taehyung before bidding Pam goodbye as well. Jungkook offers you a stiff nod, and Pam resignedly offers to walk the duo out. They depart together, and you watch as they disappear around the corner of the hall before turning to Taehyung with a heavy sigh. Trixie is still engrossed in her coloring, and you lower your voice as you join Taehyung where he’s begun re-shelving books from a cart of returns. 
“Thank god that’s finally over,” you murmur.
Taehyung glances both ways, ensuring the coast is clear. “Yeah. That Jungkook guy is a total wang.”
///
By the time you pull out of Hybe Academy’s parking lot, rush hour has well and truly begun. Silently, you curse Jungkook’s tardiness as you merge onto the main road and almost immediately come to a complete standstill amongst the traffic. Glancing back in the rearview mirror, you take in the sight of your daughter, buckled neatly into the backseat with her face pressed against the window.
“What color are we looking for today, bug?”
“Red,” she replies, her nose scrunching against the glass. Every day, your daughter picks a color and counts the number of cars she sees in that particular shade. She’s taken to keeping a running tally on the refrigerator—working toward the answer to a research question that only she understands. Her work is accompanied by a variety of figures and diagrams as well, which she’s plastered across the remainder of the refrigerator door and are slowly encroaching on the freezer door as well. You’re pretty sure she’ll need a larger surface soon enough—the wall of the hallway leading to the bedrooms would probably suffice—but until then, you have no plans to interfere with her creativity. If anything, you sometimes wish you could see the world through a child’s eyes again—to view every new experience as an adventure, and delight in the simple things. It’s one of the many reasons you love working at Hybe, even if you do have to deal with the occasional entitled parent.
Unwillingly, your mind wanders back to Jungkook Jeon. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, even if you’re reluctant to admit it and refuse outright to say it aloud. He’s blessed with the kind of face that angels could rhapsodize about—his dark, expressive eyes set above a strong nose and an enticing mouth. His jawline is sharp as a knife, and you’re fairly certain the devil himself sculpted his thighs. Even beneath the drape of his expensive suits, you can see the definition of his musculature as clearly as if he wasn’t wearing anything at all. You wonder—more often than you’d like to admit—how his workplace hasn’t deemed his suits obscene. Maybe he needs a dress code, you think to yourself, easing off the brake as the cars in front of you begin to inch forward. Baggy clothes only from this point forward. The more skin covered, the better. 
“Oooh! Found one!” Trixie exclaims, tapping the glass vigorously. “And look, there’s another. It’s a darker red, though.”
You hum and nod toward the traffic up ahead, where you can glimpse the corner of a cherry red bumper. “What about that one up there? That makes three, right?”
In the mirror, you see your daughter nod. A few minutes pass, the two of you calling out when another red car is spotted, and traffic eventually eases up enough that you can continue your way home. 
“So, what did Mr. Kim teach you about butterflies?” you query as you make a right turn. “Something about migration?” 
Trixie nods absently, still fixated on the cars driving by in the opposite lane. “Yeah. They go south for the winter to stay warm.”
You glance at her reflection in the mirror again. “Must be nice.”
“Yeah.”
Up ahead, the light turns green. You hit the gas, debating whether to bring up Daeun or not, but your daughter speaks again before you can dwell on it any further. 
“It’s weird,” Trixie says, her face still pressed against the window and her breath misting the glass. “Daeun was never mean to me before. We weren’t friends, not really. But now it feels like she’s picking on me on purpose and I don’t know why.” 
Something in your chest splinters at the tone of her voice—subdued and small. She’s dragging a finger through the fogged up glass now, tracing the crooked outline of a butterfly, and you take a moment to collect your thoughts before speaking again.
“We’ll figure it out together, then, jitterbug. Now, why don’t you start thinking about what you want for dinner?”
///
Mornings are always a little chaotic in your home. Trixie is sprinting around the entirety of the two-bedroom apartment looking for her favorite scrunchie, a half-eaten piece of toast clutched in one hand and her backpack swinging from the other. In the kitchen, you’re going through a mental checklist of all the places your daughter could have possibly left the accessory while sipping on your morning coffee. The mug nearly slips from your hand when your pet cat, Taco, slinks past your legs on her way to her food bowl, and you hiss out a sharp curse.
“Fuck!” Hot liquid dribbles down your knuckles. The calico cat gives you an unimpressed look, and you glance both ways to make sure Trixie is out of earshot before wagging a reprimanding finger. “Manners, Taco. You’re better than this.”
Taco merely flicks her tail and turns back to her own breakfast, rebelliously batting her water bowl with a paw before settling down to eat. Sighing, you finish the remainder of your coffee and rinse out the mug, listening as Trixie darts in and begins rummaging through the silverware drawer. 
“Bug, I don’t think your scrunchie’s in there,” you remark, earning yourself a shrug in response.
“Can’t be too careful,” she says in a startlingly accurate impression of you, and you can’t decide whether to laugh out loud or roll your eyes. Coming up empty, your daughter runs off again, and you return your attention to your bag, rifling through the folders and assignments within. “Aha!” you hear in the distance, and smile. Trixie comes bounding down the hall a few seconds later with a sparkly holographic scrunchie in hand, and you obligingly help her wind it around her ponytail as she wriggles in place with excitement.
“Ready to go?” you ask once finished, and she nods eagerly. “Have all your homework?” Another nod. “What about those books you have to return to Mr. Kim at the library?”
Trixie heaves a dramatic sigh and fixes you with a look. “Yes, Mom. Can we go now?”
You chuckle and extend your hand for her to take, heaving your bag onto your opposite shoulder. “All right, all right. Let’s go.”
Locking the front door, you and Trixie take the elevator down to the ground floor of the building and exit out into the wintry air. Your car is parked on a nearby side street, and immediately, you see that the windshield is coated in a light layer of frost. Sighing inwardly, you head toward the trunk where you store the ice scraper. Trixie releases your hand when you pop open the lid, and you turn to watch as she skips her way down the sidewalk. “Sure you don’t want a ride to school?” you call.
She stops, her nose wrinkling. “It’s lame to go to school with your teacher, Mom.”
You feign offense, slapping a hand to your heart. “Oh? I’m lame now, am I?”
“Don’t take it personal,” Trixie replies, shrugging. “All adults are kinda lame.”
With that, she waves and darts the rest of the way down the sidewalk, making her way to the bus stop at the end of the block. You watch her go, waiting until she safely joins the other half-dozen kids clustered on the corner beside the stop sign, before turning back to your car and climbing into the driver’s seat. 
There’s something calming about your morning commute—something about the low hum of the engine and the whir of wheels against asphalt that soothes your soul. The route downtown is a familiar one, and you navigate it with ease. A glance at the clock on the dashboard tells you that you have just enough time to grab some breakfast, and at the next intersection, you opt to turn left instead of right. Three minutes later, you’re pulling up to your favorite coffee shop in the city, snagging one of the few remaining parking spaces on the street and braving the chill one more time as you head for the brightly painted front door beneath the cheery sign that reads, Bean There, Done That!. 
The smell of warm cinnamon and vanilla washes over you as soon as you step inside the coffee shop. There’s a relatively short line, and you pull out your phone as you join it, scrolling through news articles and notifications until you reach the counter. “Good morning, Bonnie,” you greet the middle-aged woman working the cash register, before waving at the man who’s already brewing a fresh espresso in the corner. “Morning, Jin.”
“Hiya, {Name},” Jin replies. As the owner of the shop and a dear friend of yours, he knows your usual order like the back of his hand. “Got your coffee going right now.”
Bonnie smiles at you, nodding as Jin plops your finished drink down and joins her at the counter. “Morning, hun. You’re too late again, I’m afraid. Can I get you something else?”
You glance over at the glass display case where all the baked goods are housed, disappointment sinking into your stomach when you see the empty row in the bagel section. “No cinnamon streusel? Again?”
“Some guy beat you to the last one,” Jin answers as Bonnie rings up your coffee and slides it across the counter into your waiting hands. “Same one as last week, actually. He comes here pretty regularly.”
Your eyes narrow. “You mean the same jerk has taken my bagel three times now? How is it that I haven’t run into him yet?”
“I dunno—dude’s an early riser, I guess. You missed him by about ten minutes this time, but sometimes he’s in here even earlier than that.” Jin shrugs and jabs a thumb toward the back where you can just barely see the kitchen through a small window. “We’ve got more bagels going right now though, if you can wait five minutes.”
The time on your phone’s screen tells you that you cannot. “Sorry,” you tell him. “If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late for school.” Turning, you nod at Bonnie and drop a few bills into the tip jar. “See you both tomorrow.”
“Wait!” Jin pats down his apron pockets and fishes out a crumpled napkin from within. “I almost forgot. The guy—he left a note.”
“He left… what?” You frown. “Why?”
Awkwardly, Jin clears his throat. “I, uh, may have let it slip that he kept beating you to the last cinnamon streusel bagel on Friday. And then he asked if he could leave you a note, so….” Uncrumpling the napkin, he extends it toward you. “Here.”
You can’t help it—curiosity roots in your belly and winds its way to your fingers as you carefully accept the note and smooth it out on the countertop.
Better luck next time ;)
“That prick.”
Jin winces. “Yeah, I know. I mean, he does always leave a twenty in the tip jar, but yeah, totally. I’m with you. Guy’s a wang.”
You’re barely listening. Scowling, you fumble for the pen in your purse, taking the napkin that Bonnie wordlessly hands you and scribbling out your own note so fiercely you nearly rip through the papery material.
Game on, mister.
///
The rest of the week seems to drag by, until Friday arrives at long last and shepherds with it stormy gray clouds on the horizon. You’re already feeling rather grumpy—no doubt thanks in part to the collection of snarky napkin notes you’ve accumulated over the past few days—and the sun’s absence only serves to exacerbate your foul mood. Even worse, you had an unfortunate run-in with one Mr. Jungkook Jeon yesterday, meeting with him in the principal’s office following an incident where Daeun took and hid Trixie’s favorite holographic scrunchie. Thankfully, it was recovered quickly, but even now the mere thought of Jungkook Jeon’s stupid, condescending face is enough to tank your mood. Scowling, you lock your car and head in the direction of Bean There, Done That!, carefully eyeing every person who exits in an effort to discern whether they might have purchased a cinnamon streusel bagel and hoping that none of them have snagged the last.
You’re running a full forty-five minutes early today—all in an attempt to beat the damned bagel thief. Half an hour hadn’t been enough—you found that out the hard way yesterday, when Bonnie had greeted you with an apologetic smile and Jin had wordlessly doubled the usual shot of espresso in your coffee without charge. Looking back, your initial attempts to be a mere fifteen minutes earlier were feeble at worst and laughable at best. But today, you think, today will be different. 
The bell over the door jingles pleasantly when you step inside the coffee shop, and you immediately deflate when Jin catches your eye and shakes his head. He’s there to greet you when you finally reach the front of the line, and you sigh as you accept the folded napkin he hands over. “He beat me? Again? Does this guy not sleep?”
“He was super early today,” Jin replies with a shrug. Groaning, you unfold the note and smooth it out on the counter, sucking in a breath when you read the words scrawled there. 
What’s that saying again? Something about the early bird always getting the worm? ;)
“That fucking asshole,” you grit out. “I’m gonna kill him.”
“Testy,” Jin says, clicking his tongue. “What’s got your panties in a bunch today?”
You sigh. “School stuff, mostly. I had to meet with the father of one of my students yesterday, and he’s a real piece of work. And then I was up late grading homework.”
“You could always assign less,” Jin offers up unhelpfully, which earns him a snort and an eye-roll from you. Relenting, he instead begins pouring your coffee, chattering on as the hot liquid splashes into your cup. “So, about this guy’s impending doom. How exactly do you plan on murdering a man when you don’t even know what he looks like?”
“Stop being logical,” you groan, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “I don’t want to hear it.”
Just then, the coffee shop door flies open, letting in a gust of chilly wind. You turn to see Bonnie bustling inside, wearing a bright pink woolen hat and ushering along her eleven-year old son, Caleb. “Hi, hun,” she greets you, her nose scrunching when she sees your frown. “I take it you still haven’t found your mystery bagel man?”
You heave a sigh, shaking your head. “I don’t think I can get DNA off of his notes, so no. I have no idea who this guy is, which means I have no way of tracking him down and giving him a piece of my mind.”
Bonnie tuts sympathetically and pats your arm. “Sorry, hun.” Giving your elbow an affectionate squeeze, she slips past the counter and into the back room to grab her paycheck. Jin finishes up with your drink, and you thank him as you take a long sip. Then you turn to Bonnie’s son, who’s taken a seat in a nearby booth and is doodling on a piece of scrap paper. 
“Hey, Caleb. How’s it going?”
The boy, normally quite talkative, just shrugs. Taken aback, you decide not to press the issue and instead turn back to Jin, who’s wiping down the espresso machine and whistling something that sounds vaguely like “Never Gonna Give You Up” under his breath. Bonnie returns then, and you give her a quizzical glance as she pours herself a to-go cup of coffee and adds two generous pumps of caramel syrup. Is something up with Caleb? you mouth, and watch as confusion flits across her face before realization dawns.
“Don’t worry about him,” she whispers, approaching you so you can hear. “He’s just a little bummed from yesterday. Misspelled ‘serendipity’ in the school spelling bee, and it cost him the win in the end.”
You wince. “Ouch. That hurts.”
“Yeah, that sucks real hard,” Jin chimes in from his spot at the espresso machine. “Little guy didn’t even try to steal a cookie from the display like he normally does.”
Bonnie chuckles. “I’ll grab a couple to-go, then—a double chocolate and a snickerdoodle, if you please. But then we’ve really got to head out. School starts in twenty.”
At the reminder, you pull out your phone and glance at the time. “Yeah, I need to leave soon too. Give my best to Caleb, okay? There’s always next year’s spelling bee.” Turning to Jin, you hand over your credit card to pay for the coffee before grabbing a pen and a napkin. It takes you a few seconds to figure out what you want to write, and then another few to scrawl out the note:
Don’t forget, the tortoise always beats the hare in the end.
Straightening up, you hand the napkin over to Jin, who accepts it wordlessly and tucks it into his pocket. And once he’s handed your card back to you, you wave goodbye to both Jin and Bonnie before heading out.
It’s typically a five-minute drive to Hybe Academy from the coffee shop, but this morning, it takes you almost ten. Every red light in the city has seemingly teamed up in order to make you late, and you make it through the door of your classroom with mere minutes to spare. Thankfully, the first bell hasn’t rung yet, and to your surprise, Taehyung is still lounging in your desk chair when you enter the room. The two of you have a longstanding tradition of having breakfast together in the mornings—even if breakfast just turns out to be two extra-large cups of coffee with anywhere between zero and four shots of espresso added in. Taehyung occasionally brings in some of his kitchen experiments as well, and you’ve had to politely decline his offer to share on more than one occasion. 
“Hey, there you are!” Taehyung grins and props his feet up onto your desk, crossing one leg over the other. “I was just about to leave.”
“Really? It looks like you’ve made yourself pretty comfortable,” you reply, dropping your bag onto the floor and collapsing into the chair he’s pulled up beside him. “Must be nice, not having to worry about being on time for first period.”
Taehyung nestles deeper into the back of your chair and lets his eyes drift shut. “Sure is.”
You snort and take a sip of your coffee. “Jerk.”
“I’m rubber, you’re glue,” he replies without missing a beat, his eyes remaining staunchly shut.
Shaking your head, you instead direct your attention to the tupperware container that’s sitting on the desk in front of your friend. You can see what looks like some kind of pastry inside, and prod curiously at it before poking Taehyung in the shoulder. “So, what’s this? Don’t tell me you tried to make croque monsieurs again.”
“Excuse you, those weren’t even that bad,” he defends, his eyes flying open. “And no, I didn’t. I made quiche this time.”
“Right,” you say suspiciously. “And what’s in it?”
“Bacon, cheese, onions,” Taehyung lists with a shrug. “Oh, and a few baby carrots I had on hand. I didn’t really know what else to do with them.”
It’s far from the strangest combination your friend has come up with—a sentiment you voice aloud as you pry open the edge of the container and accept the fork he hands over. “This feels shockingly normal.” Cautiously, you dig into an edge and bring it to eye level so you can examine the filling. “Are you sure you’re feeling all right?”
“I’m going to start force feeding you if you don’t stop teasing,” Taehyung threatens, grabbing a fork for himself and helping himself to a generous bite. “Seriously, give it a try—I promise it’s good. I didn’t even drop any eggshells in it this time.”
Laughing, you bring the quiche to your mouth. The pastry is flaky and the filling is smooth, and you’re pleasantly surprised by the harmonious balance of seasonings that you taste. Taehyung watches in satisfaction as you go in for a bigger piece, and pushes the tupperware closer when you nearly drop it. 
“Told you it was good,” he says smugly, and you can only nod your agreement and raise your coffee in silent commendation. 
The two of you eat in silence for a few moments—until you remember the napkin shoved in your pocket and pull it out with a grimace. You’ve ranted to Taehyung about your new nemesis on more than one occasion by this point, and he doesn’t even blink as he flattens out the material and scans the words scrawled there. “I’ve gotta say, the guy’s got good handwriting,” he remarks, and you immediately fix him with a scowl. 
“Really? You’ve got to say that?”
Taehyung holds up his hands innocently. “Just an observation,” he says. “How many of these notes do you even have now? Three?”
“Five,” you grumble. “And I’m still no closer to figuring out who he is. I don’t suppose you have access to a police database or anything, right? Some way to match this guy’s handwriting?”
“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that,” is Taehyung’s blasé reply. “Besides, it’s not like you’re going to do anything, even if you do figure out who he is. You’ll just keep stewing until something else comes along, so why even bother with the manhunt in the first place?”
You sniff. “I’m raising Trixie to be a strong, determined woman who can accomplish anything she sets her mind to. What kind of example would I be setting if I can’t do this one thing?”
Taehyung doesn’t even bother trying to disguise his snort of laughter. “You’re so full of shit. Jesus Christ.”
The bell rings, then—signaling that students have five minutes to make their way to their classrooms. You sigh, and Taehyung wordlessly stands up and begins gathering his tupperware back into his bag, tucking the cutlery in last and grabbing his remaining coffee as he turns toward the door. 
“Catch you later,” he says at the threshold, and you wave him off before brushing a few stray crumbs off your desk. Finishing off the last of your coffee, you pull your planner from your bag and absentmindedly shove the napkin note in its place—putting away any and all thoughts of your bagel nemesis as students slowly begin filtering into your classroom. Trixie briefly catches your eye as she files in with a couple of her friends, and you smile as you rise from your seat and begin outlining the day’s lesson plan on the chalkboard. 
There’s no doubt that Fridays are your favorite. Friday afternoons at Hybe Academy are dedicated to the arts, and listening to the soft strains of music coming from the orchestra room and the various solo instruments taking lessons brings you boundless joy. You love seeing the new paintings on the walls the following Monday too, and often stay a while after school lets out on Friday to hang up the pieces produced by your own class. 
But this particular Friday—it isn’t going as planned at all.
You’re beginning to think that this morning’s strike from your bagel thief was an omen. Up until two hours ago, it’s just been the usual inconveniences and minor drawbacks—a misplaced pencil here, or a spilled bit of juice there. But now, halfway through the schoolday, you feel like you’re drowning. Your stomach is growling and your hair is in disarray, and it’s all thanks to the fact that you currently have twice the amount of students you normally do occupying your classroom—all of whom are seemingly intent on covering every available surface with splatters of paint. 
You can’t blame Miss Kumar, of course. Family emergencies are just that—emergencies. They can’t be predicted or controlled, and when she was called at lunchtime with unexpected news, you understood that she had to leave immediately. In an unfortunate turn of events, none of the Academy’s usual substitute teachers were available, and you soon found yourself haplessly watching on as her first-graders filed into your room with chairs in tow, taking up residence two to a desk alongside your own students. 
And even though you’re doing your absolute best to maintain some semblance of order, you know you’ve lost when one of Miss Kumar’s students—Nicholas, you think his name is—upends a little plastic canister of paint onto his desk and splats both hands into it. Blue paint goes flying in every direction, and as he giggles, the other children quickly begin to follow his lead. 
“Guys, no, wait—” you try to say, but it’s too late. A fully fledged paint fight has broken out, and you watch in horror as Daeun flings a dollop of yellow paint straight onto Trixie’s Hercules shirt. 
If there’s a bright spot in all of this, it’s that Principal Pam Baker works fast. You’d called her mere minutes into the fight breaking out, and she’d done her part by calling the parents of the students you’d named as instigators of the fight. Those who could came in right away, and once you managed to settle everyone down, you brought their kids down to Pam’s office so that she could have a group meeting with both the parents and students alike. The remaining children you took to the library to be watched by Taehyung while you cleaned up your classroom. It’s an absolute disaster zone, and you’ve only just begun spraying down the first desk when the door flies open.
“Most of the children are at the library,” you say without turning around, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn bit of red paint on the corner of the desk with a wet wipe. “If you’re looking for your child, you’d best head over there.”
“Actually, I’m here to speak to you,” a familiar voice says, and dread pools in your stomach as you turn and find yourself face-to-face with none other than Jungkook Jeon, his dark eyes unreadable. On his wrist, just barely concealed beneath the sleeve of his charcoal overcoat, you can see his expensive silver watch glinting in the fluorescent light.
“Mr. Jeon,” you manage once you’ve found your voice again. “How can I help you?”
For a few long seconds, Jungkook remains silent. He steps over the threshold and into your classroom, taking in the paint-splattered walls and the chairs scattered haphazardly about. Then his gaze settles on you, his nose wrinkling slightly as he speaks again. 
“It smells in here.”
“It’s the paint,” you answer shortly, stepping over an upended cup of brushes and making your way to the window. Fumbling with the lock, you struggle for a few seconds before finally managing to heave it open, letting in a welcome gust of cool wintry air. 
Jungkook watches all of this in silence. Then he hums, faint amusement lacing his voice. “I see that.”
Irritation blooms in your belly at his blasé tone. “What did you want to talk about, Mr. Jeon? If you’re looking for Daeun, I’m afraid she’s down the hall in Principal Baker’s office.”
“I’m well aware of that.” Jungkook takes a step forward, the heels of his sleek black oxfords clicking against the tiled floor. “This is the second time you’ve lost control of your classroom, I believe. And tell me, Miss {L/N}, why has my daughter been sent to the principal’s office two days in a row, now?”
You glance up from where you’ve begun wiping at a spot of hot pink paint on the windowsill. “With all due respect, Mr. Jeon, I think that’s a question that only Daeun can answer.”
“Daeun.” There’s outright laughter in Jungkook’s voice now—but it’s the humorless sort that makes the hairs on your neck stand on end. “Right, of course. The blame is always on my daughter, isn’t it? Never any of the others. Never your own.”
For a moment, you can only stare at him. Then, without even fully realizing what you’re doing, you begin walking forward. First one step, and then another—until the tips of your sensible block heels are mere inches from the tips of his oxfords. Emotion is building steadily in your chest—a cocktail of exhaustion and anger topped off with the day’s frustrations—and all of it comes flooding out as you raise your chin and look Jungkook Jeon square in the eye. 
“Unlike you, I saw what happened today, Mr. Jeon. Several students were responsible for instigating and perpetuating this fight, and unfortunately, Daeun was one of them. I don’t appreciate you implying that I favor any of my students over others, and I certainly don’t appreciate you questioning my ability as a teacher.” Your chest heaves as you pause to take a breath. “I am a professional, Mr. Jeon. Maybe you don’t think so, but I am. I’ve been teaching for nearly a decade, and I’ve spent almost every day with these children for the past year. You don’t get to come in here and disrespect me in my own classroom. I don’t care how much money you give to this school. I’m not beholden to you or your money, and I’ll thank you to not come in here with unnecessary attitude and finger-pointing.”
Your blood is rushing in your ears by the time your speech comes to an end. Jungkook is silent, staring down his nose at you for three long seconds before he deliberately raises a dark eyebrow. “Are you finished?” he asks. 
You shiver as his hot breath fans against your cheeks. “No.” And then, in a surge of stupid, adrenaline-fueled bravery, you add, “I kind of want to cuss you out, to be honest.”
The other eyebrow rises to join the first, as a huff of wry laughter escapes his lips. “Oh?”
You deflate slightly, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. It shouldn’t be so easy for a parent to get a rise out of you, but Jungkook seems to do it so easily—and so often. “I’m not going to,” you murmur. 
“No?” Jungkook’s gaze darts down to your lips, then up to your eyes, and then down to your lips again. “That’s rather disappointing.”
Unwittingly, you’ve drifted even closer to him since you first started talking. You can see each fleck of amber in his irises, and could probably count each of his individual eyelashes if you so cared. This close to him, you can see that one of his eyebrows is pierced—his dark hair brushed back just enough to reveal the silvery metal embedded in his skin. You don’t pull away though, and neither does he. If anything, he seems to be willing you closer—his lips parting and his tongue darting out to moisten them.
And then he blinks, and you pull back as if burned. “If… if that’s all, I should really get back to cleaning up,” you stammer, hating the wobble in your voice as you return to your desk and grab a fresh wet wipe. “Principal Baker’s office is down the hall on the left.”
“I remember. I was there yesterday, after all.” The faint amusement has returned to his tone. Straightening his tie, he begins making his way to the exit, only to pause in the doorframe and glance at you once more over his shoulder. “Oh, and Miss {L/N}?”
You look up. “Yes?”
“You should really look in a mirror. It looks like a Smurf exploded on your face.” 
///
Saturday brings with it clear blue skies and a sweet, sweet reprieve from the chaos of the week. You’d promised Trixie that you would make ratatouille together over the weekend—just like in the movie—and now you’re making good on that promise as you push a shopping cart around the grocery store with your daughter skipping happily by your side. “Ooh! We need these, right?” she exclaims, pointing at a display of zucchini, and you nod, watching as she carefully selects two and plunks them into the cart. 
Together, the two of you finish up in the produce section and head for the aisles that house all the baking goods. Trixie peruses the shelves as you stock up on the essentials—flour, sugar, and a couple boxes of baking soda. Then you grab a package of chocolate chips, laughing when Trixie immediately perks up at the sound of the bag crinkling and whirls around to look at you with wide, eager eyes. 
 “Can we do chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies?” she asks, clasping her hands in front of her chest. 
“I think you’re pushing your luck, young lady,” you tell her, but relent when she selflessly offers to bring the extras to class on Monday to share. 
Ten minutes later, you’re heading toward the checkout line when you suddenly realize that you’ve forgotten something. “Tomatoes,” you say aloud, glancing down at Trixie apologetically. “Totally slipped my mind. Let’s go grab some, bug.”
Trixie sighs dramatically, but turns toward the produce section nonetheless. Faster than you can blink, she trots off, leaving you to trail after her with the shopping cart. Maneuvering around a particularly tall display of onions, you pull out your phone to check the grocery list one more time—only to be interrupted by the metallic clang of your shopping cart hitting another. Immediately, you open your mouth to apologize, but stop short when your eyes meet the owner of the other cart.
“O-oh,” you stammer, your head spinning as you try to recover your full vocabulary. “Mr. Jeon. I… I didn’t see you there.”
Jungkook chuckles. “That much I gathered.” Then he nods toward Trixie, who you can just barely see two aisles and a crate of watermelons away. “Doing some shopping, Miss {L/N}?”
You don’t respond. Your brain is in overdrive, struggling to reconcile the Jungkook standing in front of you with the one you’d seen just yesterday in your paint-splattered classroom. His dark hair isn’t parted neatly across his forehead for once—instead, it falls in soft waves around his face. Rather reluctantly, your brain acknowledges that he looks good—irritatingly so. You’ve never seen him in casual clothes before—only neatly pressed suits that cost more than your entire paycheck—and the change is jarring to say the least. His purple sweatshirt is baggy and his black joggers are just tight enough to show off the definition of his thighs, and—
—hang on, is he wearing Birkenstocks?
Trixie, thankfully, comes to the rescue as you gape at Jungkook’s feet for several seconds too long. “Is this enough?” she asks, lugging a plastic bag bulging with at least a dozen heirloom tomatoes. Still a little shellshocked, you look down at her, blinking dumbly before bursting into laughter.
“That’s plenty, bug. In fact, we probably need to put some back, unless you want tomatoes in your cookies too.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Trixie says thoughtfully, pursing her lips. “Or we can make marinara and have spaghetti and meatballs tomorrow!”
Jungkook chooses that moment to huff out a laugh of his own. “Spaghetti and meatballs, huh? Great minds must think alike—Daeun suggested the exact same thing for our dinner tonight. Only thing is, we’re apparently making everything by hand, even the spaghetti. And we’ve never made pasta before, so…” He chuckles. “You can imagine how well that’ll probably go.”
You glance around the nearest visible aisles. “Daeun’s a proper little chef, I see. Is she here with you?”
The dark-haired man gestures toward the back of the grocery store. “I tasked her with grabbing some milk and eggs while I get the onions. She won’t go near them until they’re cooked, so I figured this would be most efficient.”
You grin. “Divide and conquer, huh?”
“Exactly,” Jungkook answers with a surprisingly boyish smile. You note with amusement that his front teeth are more prominent than the rest, just enough to give him the resemblance of a rabbit. Rather unfairly, it somehow manages to work in his favor when put together with the rest of him. Your cheeks warm when you register again just how handsome he truly is, and you quickly suck in a deep breath as you search around for a distraction.
You��re in luck. Daeun rounds the corner of a nearby display of cantaloupes with a wide grin, a gallon jug of milk and a carton of eggs in either hand. Her grin widens when she spots you, and you chuckle as she tries and fails to raise her jug-bearing hand to wave.
“Hi, Miss {L/N}!” she exclaims as she comes to a stop alongside Jungkook’s cart and deposits her goods inside. “What’re you doing here?”
“Dae,” Jungkook chides gently, but you laugh and wave him off.
“Hi, Daeun. I’m doing some shopping with Trixie, just like you are with your dad. Speaking of which—you probably have a lot of cooking to get to.” You return your attention to Jungkook. “I mean, I know we do. Somehow, I was talked into making two types of cookies this weekend, so we should really head out and get started.”
“Wait—hang on a second.” Jungkook speaks again, and maybe it’s your imagination but you think you hear a tinge of desperation in his tone. “I’m actually glad we ran into you today. We were going to do this on Monday but since you’re both here, Daeun has something she’d like to say to Trixie. Isn’t that right, Dae?”
Daeun’s gaze drops to where she’s scuffing her sneakered feet against the tiled linoleum floor. Jungkook reaches down, giving her an encouraging nudge, and she hesitates for a second before looking back up and glancing between you and Trixie. “I’m sorry,” she begins shyly. “I shouldn’t’ve thrown paint at you. Or taken your book.” And when Jungkook nudges her again and lifts an eyebrow, she continues again. “And… I’m sorry for laughing when you fell down on the playground. It wasn’t funny, and I wasn’t being nice. I’m really sorry, Trixie.”
There’s a beat of silence, as Daeun falls silent and looks at your daughter hopefully. You glance between the two girls, then up at Jungkook, who still has a hand on Daeun’s shoulder and seems to be holding his breath. Trixie, for her part, looks to be deep in thought, her face scrunched in contemplation as she taps a finger against her lips. Vaguely, you wonder if you should say something, but decide against it.
And then Trixie beams, toothy and bright. Daeun’s answering smile is still tentative, but it transforms into full-blown giggles when your daughter rushes forward and clasps one of her hands in both of her own. “I forgive you,” she says shortly, giving her hand a shake like a little businesswoman. You and Jungkook watch on as the two girls proceed to skip off, hand-in-hand and singing “Baby Shark”. 
“Wow,” you remark, turning back to Jungkook. “I have to admit, I’m a little surprised. What brought that on?”
Jungkook begins to look rather sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck. “I actually have a bit of a confession to make. Not to mention, I owe you a huge apology. I talked to Dae last night, and… well, you were right. She wasn’t acting out for no reason. She… she was actually jealous of Trixie."
You frown. "What?"
He nods. "Yeah. See, I got promoted at my job a while ago. Right after the holidays, I had to start working longer hours, which of course meant less time at home with her. And I guess all of that took its toll, especially since I had to stop taking her to school every morning.” He sighs. “She didn’t adjust very well to that. I tried my best to make things work, but there’s only so much I can do, you know? Eventually I had to set up a morning carpool with some of the neighbors. And I tried to ease the transition as much as I could, but…” He trails off with another sigh. “Guess I did kind of a shit job there.” 
Your mind is reeling at all of this new information, but you manage to find your voice again after a few moments. “You did your best,” you tell him, resisting the sudden urge to reach out and touch his arm. “And you’re still trying. That’s all that matters, you know. You’re trying to make things better. Daeun can sense that, and believe me, it’s paying off.”
Jungkook chuckles. “I think you’re giving me too much credit, but thank you. I’m just glad that Dae has a good school and good teachers. Actually, you’ve always been her favorite, did you know that?”
You didn’t. “Really?”
“Really.” 
You aren’t sure what to say after that, so you opt to look around instead. At some point—you aren’t sure when—the two of you must’ve started walking around the grocery store again because all around you are shelves full of bread and baked goods. Mindlessly, you grab a bag of everything bagels and smile when Jungkook follows your lead and drops a bag into his own cart.
A few minutes of meandering later, you find Trixie and Daeun together in the snack aisle, deep in discussion about their favorite candies. The conversation winds down as you and Jungkook approach, and you decide not to comment when Trixie not-so-surreptitiously slips a package of chocolate caramels into your shopping cart.
“We should probably get going,” you say instead, pulling out your phone and glancing at the time. “Gosh, there really aren’t enough hours in the day. You ready, bug?”
“Yep!” Trixie replies cheerily, turning to wave goodbye to Daeun and Jungkook. “Bye, Daeun! Bye, Mr. Jeon!”
“See you Monday, Trixie! You too, Miss {L/N}!” Daeun exclaims. And as you and Jungkook exchange smiles and farewells of your own, you feel lighter than you’ve felt in days, as if an invisible weight has lifted.
///
Like clockwork, Monday morning finds you at the counter of Bean There, Done That! with an apologetic Jin offering you your usual coffee in a size larger than the one you’d paid for. “Again?” you exclaim as you accept the cup and take a generous sip. “I can’t believe this. You opened like, twenty minutes ago.”
The corner of Jin’s mouth twitches. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he produces a full tray of cinnamon streusel bagels from somewhere beneath the counter, picking out the best-looking one before sliding the tray into its spot in the display. “I just wanted to see the look on your face,” he admits as he slips the bagel into a paper bag and hands it over. “These are fresh—still pretty warm, in fact. Surprised you didn’t smell them when you came in.”
“I did smell them,” you tell him, wagging a finger. “But the blueberry bagels are always kind of overpowering and this whole place tends to smell like vanilla anyway, so excuse me for taking you for your word when you said you were out.”
“You know, a simple ‘thank you’ would’ve sufficed,” Jin sniffs. Then he gestures to the stack of napkins next to the cash register and waggles his eyebrows. “Care to leave a snarky note of your own?”
A slow grin spreads across your face as you start fishing in your purse for a pen. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
///
The rest of the day goes smoothly, and you’re pretty sure it’s all thanks to the cinnamon streusel bagel you’d had the time to truly savor this morning. You’d even bought an extra for Taehyung, who for his part contributed a tupperware full of bacon strips and a pitcher of mixed berry smoothie to your breakfast. For lunch you’d made sure to eat a healthy dose of vegetables, and as you head into the final period of the day, you feel more than ready to give a room full of children their next big assignment.
“All right, class,” you say as your students filter into the classroom and start taking their seats. “We’ve been learning about the animal kingdom for the last few weeks, and it’s finally time to put everything we’ve learned so far together. I’m going to go around and hand each of you a card. Take a look at it—you’ll either see a picture of an animal, or the name of an animal.” Grabbing the stack of cards off your desk, you begin distributing them, slowly making your way up and down the rows of desks. “Then, I want you to get up out of your seats and find the card that matches yours. If there’s a picture of a zebra on your card, you want to find the person with ‘zebra’ written on their card. And that person will be your partner for this project. Does that make sense to everyone?”
Nods and exclamations of affirmation all around. Satisfied, you hand out the last of your cards and return to your desk, gesturing for your students to stand up and find their partners. You watch as the children mill around, exclaiming happily when they find their match. Much to your satisfaction, you see that Daisy—a little girl who always has her blond hair corralled into a neat braid—and Josiah—a well-mannered boy with a different-colored polo for each day of the week—just so happen to be partners. You hadn’t planned it that way, but you’ve always gotten the feeling that there was a hint of a little crush there.
Another pleasant surprise comes in the form of Daeun, who’s plopped herself in the seat beside Trixie and is animatedly gesturing at her card. Even from your spot in the front of the classroom, you can read the big block letters that spell out “penguin” and see the corresponding line drawing on Trixie’s card. And as the girls begin to chat, it’s as if the issues of the last few months hadn’t happened at all.
Your class spends the last few hours of the school day in the library, working on their newly assigned project. You’ve set up shop at the table nearest Taehyung’s desk, which you’ve always kind of envied. Perfectly round and situated in the center of the room, it allows for a 360-degree view of the entire library if he so much as spins in his chair. “Honestly, I could get so much done if I had one of these,” you lament to him as you watch Josiah sharpen Daisy’s pencil for her out of the corner of your eye. “I’d set up the best frickin’ assembly line you ever saw.”
“You sound like a workaholic,” Taehyung replies, doing yet another lazy revolution in his seat. “Or a lunatic. Same thing, really.” 
Resisting the urge to stick your tongue out at him, you settle for rolling your eyes instead. The final bell of the day rings, and you shepherd your students out of the library with your friend on your heels. As the children disperse to their lockers, you trail after Trixie and Daeun, waiting for the two to say their goodbyes so you and your daughter can walk to the car together. It’s still odd seeing the two getting along so well, but you aren’t about to question it as you and Taehyung follow the girls to their lockers—which happen to be in the same section of the hallway—and then out and into the bright afternoon sun. Smiling, you listen to them chattering excitedly about the project even as Taehyung launches into a tirade about his latest rent increase.
“Seriously, I should just move at this point—it’s fucking ridiculous. I don’t even use the conference center, and the indoor pool is just a waste of space when there’s a public one that’s twice the size three blocks away. And that one even has a hot tub! Not to mention—”
You sigh, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Jeez, Tae, just move. You’ve been threatening to for over a year now, and it’s not like anyone’s forcing you to stay. You don’t even like the neighborhood, for god’s sake. I don’t know why you stuck around for that long.”
Taehyung sniffs. “Moving’s just such a hassle, you know? I really wanted to avoid it, but I guess I can’t this time around. A 22% rent increase… fucking hell. You’ll help me pack, won’t you?”
“I’d rather not.”
“But you’re so good at packing! And you have all that bubble wrap and the box of styrofoam peanuts hoarded in your closet—”
“Stored in my closet.”
“Whatever,” he says dismissively, waving you off. “I’m not here to debate semantics with you.”
“No, you’re here to guilt me into helping you move,” you reply. “What’s up with that, anyway? I thought you swore off of renting U-Hauls for good after last time. You were googling moving companies and getting quotes for weeks.”
“Yeah, I definitely lost that spreadsheet,” Taehyung admits. “Besides, money’s a little tight right now. Every last bit of spare change we have is going toward Jimin’s new pilates studio. We’re saving wherever and whenever  we can.”
You nod in understanding at the mention of his fiancé and his new business venture. “How’s all that going, anyhow? I know Jimin’s been super busy—we haven’t been to bar trivia in weeks.”
“Yeah, it’s a whole thing,” Taehyung says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Starting a business is hard—who knew?”
“Who knew, indeed,” you echo. You’re about to say something else, too, but any semblance of coherence flies out of your head when you glance at the girls again and see that they’ve come to a stop. There’s a sleek black Mercedes-Benz idling at the curb, and leaning against it is none other than Jungkook Jeon—dressed in a sharp navy blue ensemble with his hair slicked back and dark sunglasses perched on his nose. It’s impossible to tell whether he’s seen you yet, and it’s all you can do to tear your gaze away before you get caught staring. Turning back instead to Taehyung, you raise a hand in farewell. “Well, it looks like this is my stop.”
“Seems that way,” your friend hums, casting a curious glance at Trixie, who’s enthusiastically greeted Jungkook with a Hi again, Mr. Jeon! and is now giggling with Daeun about how they can see their reflections in his car. “See you tomorrow. Don’t get into too much trouble!”
You roll your eyes at the flagrant wink Taehyung sends your way, surreptitiously flipping him off from behind your tote bag. Then you make your way over to your daughter, who’s still engrossed in conversation. Coming to a stop behind her, you lay a hand on her shoulder, smiling as she looks up and flashes you a big grin. “All righty. You ready to go home, jitterbug?” you ask.
Trixie juts her bottom lip out into a pout. “Can I go to Daeun’s?”
You raise an eyebrow, glancing up at Jungkook, who’s now scrolling through his phone. Then you return your gaze to your daughter, taking in her eager, bright eyes. “I don’t know, bug. Have you asked Mr. Jeon if you can come over?”
Daeun pipes up then, her pigtails bobbing with every word. “He says it’s okay, Miss {L/N}! Since we have a project to work on and all. He even said we can order takeout for dinner!”
Again, you look at Jungkook. His expression is unreadable behind his sunglasses, but when he feels your gaze he glances up, tucking his phone back into his pocket and pushing his sunglasses up onto his head. “Dae’s right—I did promise the girls takeout. Sorry to catch you off guard with last-minute plans like this, Miss {L/N}. If you’d like, you’re welcome to join us as well.”
You blink. To say that the invitation has caught you off guard would be a massive understatement, and as your brain races to catch up, you suddenly realize that he’s willing to let you come to his home. You would be in his space—where he lives, eats, sleeps. The thought is simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.
“I—I don’t want to impose,” you finally manage after what feels like an eternity. “I’m sure you’re busy, and I have a lot of homework to grade, and…” You trail off, hesitant, and Jungkook waits a beat before chiming in.
“No imposition at all,” he says, offering you a small smile. “Honest. I’ve spent two of the last three weekends hosting sleepovers for Daeun’s friends, and I’m not convinced I remember what adult company is like anymore.” Then his smile widens—just enough to offer a glimpse of his endearingly prominent front teeth and crinkle the corners of his eyes. “Remind me?”
You aren’t sure if you’re imagining the flirtatious edge in his tone, but you push the thought to the very back of your head and straighten the hem of your blouse before grasping for the phone tucked in your bag. “I… I suppose that would be all right,” you begin hesitantly as you pretend to check for new notifications. “You’re sure it won’t be any trouble?”
“None at all,” Jungkook reassures. “Here, I’ll give you my address for your GPS, but it might be easier if you just follow me. Where are you parked?”
You gesture toward the staff parking lot, which is usually separated from the main lot by a row of neatly manicured hydrangea bushes that bloom in bursts of pink and blue and purple during the spring and summer months. Right now, there are only a few sparse yellow daffodils, pushing up through the dirt and signaling that spring is not far off despite the lingering chill in the air. “I’m about three rows in. I can drive over and meet you here, if that works?”
Trixie chooses that moment to pipe up, instinctively raising her hand like she’s still in class. “Can I ride with Daeun and Mr. Jeon?”
You hesitate, glancing over at Jungkook, who shrugs as if to say fine by me. Turning your attention back to your daughter, you nod and reach down to adjust the glittery pink scrunchie in her hair. “Be good,” you order. “Don’t distract Mr. Jeon while he’s driving, okay?”
“Mmhmm,” Trixie hums, already turning toward the sleek black Benz and tugging on the door handle. “See you there, Mom!”
You wave, watching as the girls climb into the backseat before turning and making your way to your own car. Unlocking the door, you slide into the driver’s seat and take a deep breath. Then, you take another. And a few moments later, you take a third.
Even as you mentally play back the events of the afternoon, you still can’t wrap your head around how it came to this. Here you are, about to drive to Jungkook Jeon’s house. You’ve seen his address in your files, and you know from the street name that he lives downtown, in the part of the city that’s dominated by high-rise buildings and five-star hotels. It’s an area that you don’t visit often, having no reason to unless there’s a particular restaurant that you’re looking to try out—and have the money for. It feels odd inputting his address into your phone’s navigation app, but you do so nonetheless, watching as it calculates the optimal route. 
Steeling yourself, you start up the ignition and ease up on the brake. As you pull out of your parking space, you crane your head to see if Jungkook’s car is still where you’d last seen it, which it thankfully is. Slowly, you make your way over to where the Benz is idling, pulling up alongside him and giving him a little wave. Jungkook has donned his sunglasses again, but he lowers them when he sees you and nods in acknowledgment. Ready to go? he mouths, and you nod even though it’s a lie. You aren’t ready. You aren’t sure you ever will be. But Jungkook is already pulling ahead and out of the parking lot, and you’re forced to push aside your intrusive thoughts and follow. 
The first stretch of the drive is easy. Jungkook is a measured driver, and you can tell that he’s taking care to turn only when there’s enough room for both of your vehicles. The second stretch, however, proves far more difficult. Now that you’re downtown, there’s an abundance of one-way streets and pedestrians. Traffic lights sit on seemingly every corner, alternating between red, yellow, and green at random, as far as you can tell. You nearly lose Jungkook twice on particularly short green lights, and only narrowly avoid hitting an overeager dog dragging its hapless owner into the crosswalk before the walk sign has changed. 
The third time, it finally happens. Dismayed, you watch as Jungkook’s sleek black Benz cruises past a green light, just before it turns yellow for a split second and then flips to red. You’re forced to brake far faster than you’d prefer—way too fast to be safe, for sure—and watch as Jungkook disappears around the Starbucks on the next corner. Muttering out a quiet curse, you drum your fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as you wait for the light to change again. Thankfully, you’re only about two minutes from your destination. 
After what feels like an eternity, the light finally turns green. Releasing your foot on the brake, you take the turn that Jungkook had taken, glancing between your phone and the surrounding buildings to identify your destination. There’s a string of restaurants, a pharmacy, and a post office. You cruise past a dentist’s office and a few dry cleaners, and then your phone is directing you to turn right onto a street that boasts a long row of glass-fronted office buildings. 
Two blocks later, you’re pulling up to a tall, sleek chrome building. The first floor is occupied by a seafood restaurant and the second and third seem to be a gym, but as you crane your head upward you can see that the floors above that seem to be condominiums. Letting your head fall back against the headrest, you glance down at your phone one more time, confirming that this is indeed your destination. Then you take a long, deep breath before you begin following the little blue signs that claim to lead to a parking garage beneath the building.
To your relief, the garage itself isn’t difficult to find. You take a ticket from the machine as you descend down the concrete ramp, keeping an eye out for any open spots that are designated as guest parking. Seconds pass, and then minutes. Your heart flutters nervously in your chest as you descend deeper into the parking garage, seeking a break in the rows of cars that never comes. You’re seconds away from giving up and turning around, when finally, you see an open spot. It’s a little cramped and it’s right next to a concrete pillar that’s just a little too close for comfort, but you manage to squeeze into the space. Heaving a deep sigh of relief, you turn off the ignition and tuck your keys into your purse, taking a moment to gather yourself before exiting your car and locking it behind you.
That’s when you encounter your next obstacle: figuring out how, exactly, to get out of the parking garage. You can’t find a single sign to guide your way—only a locked dark green door that you assume is some kind of mechanical room. Groaning, you spin in a full circle, taking in your concrete surroundings. Maybe if you just start walking, you’ll find a sign that will point you to the elevators. You’d even consider taking the stairs at this point, no matter how many floors down you are (you’re pretty sure it’s seven or eight). 
Just then, your phone begins to buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out, you see Jungkook Jeon (Daeun’s Dad) emblazoned across the screen and immediately swipe to answer. “Hello?”
“Hey,” Jungkook says, obvious relief coloring his tone. “I’m sorry I lost you back there. Where are you now?”
“I’m in the parking garage below your building,” you reply, idly scuffing your foot along the concrete floor. “I’m parked pretty far down, and now I can’t seem to figure out how to get upstairs.”
Jungkook hums thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’ll admit the signage isn’t great down there. Let me see… can you see any doors?”
“Just this green one, but it’s locked.” Reaching out, you try the handle again to double-check. “Other than that, nothing.”
Another hum from the man on the other end of the line. “Okay, walk away from that door. Try and head toward the middle of the garage—that’s where the elevators are. There’s four of them, and they’re in this big concrete circle. Can you see them yet?”
“Maybe?” You can see a break in the rows of cars up ahead, and a rounded concrete wall in the distance. Speeding up, you make your way around the edge and blink as a bank of elevators comes into view. “Oh, wait—yeah! Huh. Weird. I didn’t expect the doors to be orange.”
Jungkook chuckles. “Each floor’s color-coordinated, yeah. Orange means you’re near the bottom, though. Didn’t you see the guest parking on the first floor?”
You blink. “No, I don’t think so. Did I miss something?”
That draws another chuckle from him. “Probably. There’s a row of spaces off to the right as soon as you enter the garage, but it can be pretty easy to miss if you don’t know to look for it. I should’ve given you a heads-up.”
“It’s okay,” you tell him as you enter the elevator and hit the button for the thirty-fourth floor. “I could’ve asked.”
Bidding him farewell and assuring that you’ll see him soon, you hang up and tuck your phone back into your pocket. The elevator ride is relatively short despite how high you’re going, and before you know it you find yourself standing in front of a navy blue door with a polished brass knocker. Raising your hand, you’re about to knock when the door flies open, revealing Daeun and Trixie standing there with identical grins.
“You’re finally here!” your daughter exclaims, bounding forward to take you by the hand and lead you inside. “Mr. Jeon said we had to wait for you to get here. He says he’s gonna give us a grand tour!”
“It’s really not as exciting as they’re making it sound.” Jungkook’s voice comes from around the corner, and the man himself steps into view a moment later. He’s taken off his jacket and removed his tie, leaving him in navy slacks and a crisp white shirt with the first few buttons undone. Your gaze lingers a little too long on this newly exposed sliver of chest, but you forcibly tear your gaze away when Trixie gives your hand a squeeze. 
“Come on, Mom! You can see everything from the window. It’s like you’re on top of a mountain!”
Laughing, you follow your daughter deeper into the apartment. She points to the closet off the foyer, where you obligingly hang up your coat next to her periwinkle one. Then she leads you to the far end of the foyer, where it opens into a wide hallway. On the other side of the hall is an archway that leads to a spacious kitchen with white cabinets and polished granite countertops. You take note of the bright yellow bar stools at the kitchen island, chuckling when Daeun loudly declares that she picked them out—and that Jungkook had caved to her despite wanting boring gray ones instead.
As you continue your tour, it becomes abundantly clear that Jungkook has caved to his daughter on multiple occasions. The furniture in the living area is neutral—shades of beige and dark wood that pair well with the polished floorboards and modern floor-to-ceiling windows. But scattered throughout the space are pops of color and quirkiness that you can confidently attribute to Daeun—having graded several of the art pieces that you now see hanging on the wall and adorning the sleek glass coffee table. There’s the lopsided clay vase painted with streaks of hot pink and specks of bright yellow, and there’s the papier-mâché snowman with his jaunty orange hat. You see more and more of Daeun’s influence everywhere you look—the watercolor butterfly paintings on the wall, and the red floral accent chair that you’re sure Jungkook didn’t pick out himself. 
“That’s Daddy’s room,” Daeun says, pointing to a nondescript white door beside the bookshelves that flank the flatscreen TV hanging on the wall. Then she points down the hall, past the kitchen where you can see a few more doors. “And that’s my room down there, next to Daddy’s office. Do you want to see?”
You nod. “I can’t wait. Lead the way.”
Cheerfully, Daeun gestures for you to follow after her as she skips toward the door at the very end of the hall. She opens it with a flourish, allowing all of you inside, and as soon as you step past the threshold you’re transported to a fantastical world. Daeun’s bedroom walls are painted to resemble an enchanted forest, complete with delicate fairy lights wrapped around the wooden four-poster bed. A white desk and an accompanying green chair sit in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, the pale pink curtains opened to let sunlight stream in. Along the sill is a collection of stuffed animals, ranging from a tiny butterfly to an elephant that you’re pretty sure is taller than Daeun herself. Opposite the bed is a gallery wall, composed of colorful floral prints and Daeun’s own art—a charming, eclectic mix of animal paintings and landscapes. It’s the kind of bedroom that you would’ve loved as a child, and your daughter is equally taken with it if her awed expression is anything to go by. 
“This is so cool!” Trixie runs to the window to peer out at the city below, before twirling in a circle to take in the art on the walls. “I can’t believe you live here. It’s like a magic forest!”
“It’s a beautiful room,” you remark, nodding your agreement. “And all of these drawings are amazing, Daeun. You’re a talented artist.”
Daeun flushes at the compliment, thanking you with a shy smile. Then she and Trixie are off again, speeding down the hallway to look at something else in the apartment. You and Jungkook trail after them slowly, until he opens another door off the hall to reveal his office. It’s smaller than Daeun’s bedroom and far more simplistic in its decor, but it’s a cozy and inviting space nonetheless. One wall is lined with mahogany bookshelves, and a polished wooden desk is pushed against the opposite. A plush burgundy armchair with a matching ottoman sits in the corner beside a tall potted plant, creating the perfect space for reading, and you can tell from the indentation in the seat cushion that it’s been well-loved over the years.
“I’ve definitely been bringing my work home too much lately,” Jungkook admits. “I’ve been cutting back though. Ever since Daeun’s behavioral problems…” He trails off. “Well, you know all about that already. And I do want to apologize for giving you a hard time. It’s just… I guess it’s not all that fun being told that you’re failing as a parent.”
“You’re not failing as a parent,” you reply, laying a hand on his arm before you can think to stop yourself. “You’re doing your best. It’s all we can do, isn’t it? Do everything we possibly can for our children?”
He nods, but he isn’t looking at you. He’s looking down at your hand on his arm, and you blanch inwardly as you quickly pull back and pretend to brush invisible dirt off your skirt. “We should go find the girls,” you murmur. And just like that, the tour is over. 
The two of you rejoin the girls in the kitchen, where they’ve begun assembling themselves a snack of peanut butter and crackers. Jungkook slices up an apple and a banana for them to share, and they barely take the time to thank him before disappearing into Daeun’s bedroom to work on their project. You and Jungkook find yourselves alone in the kitchen, and when the silence between you has stretched on for just long enough to be awkward, you decide to speak. “So. I guess I should probably grade some homework while I’m here.”
Jungkook blinks and shakes his head a little, as if coming out of a trance. “Right, of course. I’ve got a few things I need to wrap up myself. Please, make yourself comfortable. You’re free to work in the office, if you’d like.”
Immediately, you shake your head. “Oh, no. I don’t want to intrude.”
He nods, then gestures out toward the dining table, which sits in a little nook between the main living area and kitchen. “Well then, feel free to make use of the table. Or the kitchen island. Or even the couch, if you’d prefer.” He pauses. “Wait, where are my manners? I haven’t even offered you anything to drink! Did you want anything?” 
“Oh.” You hesitate. “I’m okay.”
Jungkook begins making his way to the refrigerator, regardless. “Seriously, it’s no trouble. I have coffee, tea, banana milk, and I think there’s probably a carton of apple juice in here too. What do you usually drink when you’re grading?”
“Tea,” you admit. “Any kind. I’m not picky.”
“Tea it is.” Jungkook sets about grabbing two mugs. “Go on, make yourself comfortable. I’ll bring it to you.”
For a moment, you wonder if you should ask if he needs help. But he’s already preoccupied with the kettle, his back to you, and you have to force yourself to look away from the way his broad shoulders taper into his slim waist. In an attempt to distract yourself from gawking, you walk back out to the dining table. Pulling out a chair, you settle your bag on the floor beside you and take a seat. And by the time Jungkook comes out of the kitchen with two steaming mugs of tea, you’re already halfway through grading the first math worksheet in your pile.
“Here you go.” Jungkook places a mug by your elbow, and you glance up at him with a grateful smile.
“Thanks.” “No problem.”
To your surprise, he takes his mug to the opposite side of the table and sets it down. Then he disappears into the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with his laptop in hand. You try not to stare as he sets up shop across from you, a loose lock of dark hair flopping across his forehead as he logs in and begins reading something, his dark eyes flitting across the screen. His piercing in his eyebrow glints in the sunlight streaming in through the nearby window.
Ripping your gaze away, you force yourself to focus on the homework you need to grade. And after a few minutes, you’re fully immersed, thumbing through sheet after sheet and writing down your notes.
Before you even realize it, two hours have passed. You only become aware of how late it’s getting when Jungkook shuts his laptop with a click, stretching his arms overhead and working a few kinks out of his neck. “It’s almost dinnertime,” he remarks, glancing out the window where the sun is steadily dropping closer to the horizon. “Did you have any thoughts about dinner? I can order some pizza or something.”
“Oh, I don’t think—” you begin to protest, but Daeun and Trixie choose that moment to dash in like mini tornadoes, whirling around the dining table. 
“We can still order takeout for dinner, right Daddy?” Daeun gazes up at Jungkook with pleading eyes, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “And Trixie and Miss {L/N} can stay if we do, right?”
Trixie looks at you, lower lip already beginning to jut out in a pout. “Please, Mom?”
Jungkook gives you a meaningful glance across the table, and you can only shrug and relent. “Yeah, all right. Since takeout was already promised, we can stay for dinner. But we’re going home after that, okay? It’s a school night.”
The girls burst into cheers. After a brief discussion on what kind of food to order, you all settle on Jungkook’s initial suggestion of pizza. As he puts in the order, you begin tidying up the dining table, clearing it of your graded homework. Daeun points out where the plates are kept, and together, you and the girls set the table for dinner. 
“Estimated delivery time is half an hour,” Jungkook says as he tucks his phone back into his pocket and joins you at the dining table. “What should we do while we wait?”
“Let’s play Candyland!” Daeun exclaims. 
Trixie gasps. “I love Candyland!”
And just like that, it’s settled. The four of you settle around the coffee table for the game—you and Jungkook making yourselves comfortable on the cream-colored sectional while the girls sprawl out on the shaggy rug on the floor. The pizza arrives just as Trixie reaches Candy Castle, and Jungkook goes to answer the door while she celebrates her victory. Then, the four of you sit down for dinner.
It’s strange, sitting in Jungkook’s undoubtedly expensive apartment and eating pizza. But even more strange is how okay it all feels—natural, even. You aren’t sure when you became so comfortable in his presence, but you aren’t about to question it. You’re grateful for the lack of awkwardness.
An hour later, the last slice of pizza is finished. You volunteer to do the dishes, and Jungkook clears the table while you take up residence at the sink. You’ve tasked Trixie with gathering up her things so you can depart after you’ve finished in the kitchen, and can hear her giggling off in the distance with Daeun. “Thanks for hosting us today,” you murmur to Jungkook.
He chuckles, waving off your gratitude. “It’s no problem, seriously. I had a good time.”
You smile at him before returning to the dishes. Just as you’re putting away the last plate, the girls run back into the kitchen—Trixie with her backpack in tow. 
“Can Daeun come to our house next time?” she asks, and you laugh.
“Sure, jitterbug. You’re welcome to come over whenever you’d like, Daeun.”
And with that, you and Trixie say your final goodbyes. You slip back into your shoes and grab your coats from the closet. Jungkook gives you directions for the easiest route out of the parking garage, and you thank him for what feels like the umpteenth time.
You’re barely listening to your daughter’s ramblings as you climb into the driver’s seat and turn on the ignition. All you can think about is Jungkook and this strange, newfound warmth that stirs in your belly whenever he seeps into your thoughts.
///
“You wiped that part of the counter already.”
Trixie’s voice barely registers in your mind, but the washcloth in your hand slows nonetheless. It’s a beautiful Saturday morning with hardly a cloud in the sky, and Jungkook and Daeun are due to arrive any minute. You’ve been cleaning for the past hour, and even though you know you’ve already gone through the kitchen, you can’t help yourself. This is the first time Jungkook will be seeing your humble abode, and you—ostensibly—want to impress.
“Bug, can you set the table?”
Trixie sighs dramatically, but complies nonetheless. Grabbing four plates, she places them down carefully before returning for four glasses. You join her at the table with a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice, straightening out one of the striped blue placemats as you set it down beside the vase of flowers that serves as a centerpiece. 
You’ve just started frying bacon when the doorbell rings. “Got it!” Trixie calls, darting to the door, and you listen as she enthusiastically greets your guests. A few seconds later, Jungkook rounds the corner with both girls, decked out in jeans and a gray cable-knit sweather and carrying a plain white cardboard box in his hands. 
Curiously, you tilt your head. “Mysterious box you’ve got there.”
He laughs. “Hello to you too.” Then he puts the box down and pops open the lid. “I brought my favorite bagels—I hope that’s okay. Didn’t want to show up empty-handed.”
You smile at him. “Of course it’s okay. I was just planning on making some toast, but bagels are way be…” You trail off as the bagels in question come into your view. 
Perfectly golden, with a dusting of cinnamon sugar and streusel crumbles on top. You’d recognize them anywhere. 
“{Name}?” Jungkook sounds concerned. “Are you all right?”
You blink and shake your head, mind still whirring. “Are these from that coffee shop downtown? Bean There, Done That?” 
Jungkook nods. “Yeah, have you been?”
You nod. “This… this might sound crazy and I might be way off base. But do you stop there every morning for a bagel?”
Jungkook blinks. Then he blinks again, his lips parting wordlessly. A beat passes, and then another. “Wait,” he finally manages, his voice a croak. “Hang on. Is it… I mean, it can’t be… can it?”
You reach into the drawer next to the stovetop and pull out a wad of pen-stained napkins. “Did you leave me these?”
For a few seconds, it seems like Jungkook can only gape at you. “Holy shit,” he finally breathes, before slapping a hand to his mouth with wide eyes and glancing around to make sure the girls aren’t within earshot. “I was leaving you notes this whole time?”
You can only laugh in disbelief. “You were the one taking my cinnamon streusel bagels?”
“Hey, I wouldn’t have taken them if you’d gotten there earlier,” he teases. Chuckling, he picks up a napkin note and uncrumples it, scanning across the text. “Damn. Small world, huh?”
“The smallest,” you agree, mind reeling from this new development. Still chuckling, Jungkook steps past you to get to the stove, and you belatedly remember that the bacon is still sizzling in the pan as he picks up your tongs and carefully flips each strip. 
“I kept your notes too,” he says after a moment. “I shoved both of them in my glovebox.”
You huff. “Both. Yeah, okay, you beat me to the last bagel way more than I beat you. You don’t have to rub it in, Jungkook.”
“Oh, come on.” He grins, toothy and bright, and you’re momentarily distracted by the endearing prominence of his teeth. “I think I have to rub it in a little.”
“Hmph. As long as it’s only a little,” you concede as you join him at the stove with another pan and begin scrambling eggs. Together, the two of you finish making breakfast, piling eggs onto one plate and bacon on another. You grab the bowl of fruit salad you’d prepared last night out of the fridge, and Jungkook grabs the box of bagels and calls for Daeun and Trixie to come eat. Then, he surprises you by sitting beside you, leaving the girls to sit next to each other on the opposite side of the table.
Breakfast is a relaxed affair—even if Taco keeps trying to jump up on the table to steal some bacon. You’ve eaten several meals with Jungkook and Daeun since that first dinner—usually at Jungkook’s apartment, but also once at the food court in your local natural history museum, where you took the girls to see the ocean exhibit’s penguin display. Since this is the final weekend before their group project is due on Monday, you’ve promised to take them to the zoo to see real, live penguins and complete the last of their research. Both girls already have their backpacks packed and ready to go, and you task Jungkook with checking to make sure they have all their notes while you clean up in the kitchen. 
Twenty minutes later, you’re on your way to the zoo. Jungkook has volunteered to drive, and you can’t help but gape a little as he unlocks his sleek black Mercedes-Benz and opens up the passenger door to reveal cream-colored leather seats and shiny silver hardware. “Wow,” you remark, catching his eye as he walks around to the driver’s side. “This is like the Batmobile or something.”
“Hardly,” he says with a laugh. “I wish I had rocket boosters and ejection seats. That’d be cool as hell.”
“Daddy!” Daeun gasps, scandalized. “That’s a bad word!”
Jungkook has the decency to look properly abashed. “I’ll put a dollar in the swear jar when we get home,” he promises before pretending to zip his mouth shut and throw away the key. Satisfied, Daeun clambers into the backseat with Trixie on her heels, and Jungkook shoots you a conspiratorial little wink as he takes his own seat and starts up the engine.
The drive to the zoo takes only about fifteen minutes. It’s already beginning to get crowded by the time you get there, but Jungkook still manages to find parking with little difficulty. Together, the two of you usher your daughters out of the car, reminding them not to run too far ahead when they immediately make a beeline for the entrance. 
After a short wait in line to buy tickets, you finally make your way past the lion statues flanking the front gate. The wide concrete pathway leads to an open plaza where people are milling about—some looking at the directory located at the far end while others rely on the colorful signpost in the center, reading through the various directional arrows before heading off to their destination. Along the edges of the plaza are a multitude of stalls—selling everything from footlong hot dogs to stuffed animals to cotton candy. There’s a couple of artists painting faces, too, and Daeun only has to give Jungkook one wide-eyed, pleading look before he caves and pulls out his wallet. Aghast, you try to protest, but he waves you off and sends them both off with some cash in hand. 
“Consider it payment for all the bagels I’ve deprived you of,” he says, and you relent with a laugh.
Slowly, the two of you make your way around the plaza, making sure to keep a watchful eye on the girls at all times. Half an hour later, Trixie and Daeun come skipping back your way, their faces bright with colorful paint. Daeun has an intricate pink and blue butterfly, while Trixie has opted for the distinctive orange and black stripes of a tiger. 
“Do you like it?” she asks, and you nod, bopping her fondly on her painted black nose. 
“I don’t just like it, jitterbug. I love it.”
Pleased, she rejoins Daeun, who has successfully diverted Jungkook to the cotton candy stand. Following after her, you hand the vendor your credit card to pay for both snacks before Jungkook can get a word in edgewise. Reluctantly, he tucks his wallet away, laughing when you stick your tongue out at him.
Once the girls have had their fill of the main plaza, the four of you head off in the direction of the penguin exhibit, stopping to look at the zebras and giraffes along the way. Photographs are snapped, and Trixie even flags down a nearby couple and asks them to take a photo of all four of you together. The girls jostle into place in front of the giraffe enclosure, and you suddenly find yourself standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Jungkook, the warmth of his body radiating off of him like the sun in the sky. Your resulting smile feels forced—especially when the girl starts taking multiple photos from different angles—but gradually relaxes. And now, even as you enter the penguin exhibit, you can’t stop sneaking glances at the last photo. 
Because in it, you and Jungkook look like couple. You’re standing close enough that anyone who saw it would construe it as a family photo, the two of you beaming with your giggling daughters in front of you, their arms draped over each other’s shoulders.
Swallowing, you let your phone screen go dark and tuck it back into your pocket. You’re coming up on the penguin exhibit now, and the girls can barely contain their excitement as they run ahead to the outermost edge of the enclosure where a massive glass wall allows for a clear view of the penguins swimming about underwater.
“They’re so fast!” Trixie exclaims. She stops at one of the numerous placards lining the glass wall, her little face scrunching as she slowly reads it out loud to Daeun. “It says here some can swim over twenty miles an hour!”
As the girls pull out their notebooks and begin taking notes, you and Jungkook find an unoccupied bench near a rocky outcrop occupied by several bronze penguin statues. “Look,” Jungkook says, patting one of the upright penguins. “You can see how many people have rubbed this little guy’s head. It’s turned gold.”
“Must be good luck,” you remark, running a finger along the golden beak of another penguin. “Or maybe I should make a wish? I don’t really know what this situation calls for.”
“I’m pretty sure you make wishes when you throw a coin into a fountain,” your companion replies, brushing a dark strand of hair off his forehead. “Actually, I think I saw a fountain back there. Should we check it out later?”
“I don’t think I have any change on me,” you reply, peeking into your purse to make sure. “Seriously, who even carries coins anymore?”
“Not me,” Jungkook agrees. “I do usually have at least a little cash on me, though. It’s nice to have sometimes.”
“Mm, yeah. You never know when you’ll need it.”
Just then, Trixie and Daeun run up, gesturing toward the brown building at the very back of the enclosure. “There’s a penguin movie playing over there!” Daeun says. “Can we go see it?”
“Sure,” Jungkook says. “How long is it?”
“I think it runs every twenty minutes,” you reply when Daeun frowns and scratches her head. “Come on. If I’m remembering correctly, we should be able to see more penguins inside too.”
Daeun and Trixie beam. “Cool!” they exclaim in unison, before galloping off and leaving you and Jungkook to follow after them as quickly as you can manage without breaking into a run yourselves.
Your memory proves correct, as you enter the brown building and immediately see that the walls inside are glass as well. A penguin dives off of a rocky island and into the clear blue water, and you watch as it goes all the way to the bottom of the pool before coming back up for air. 
After doing a lap of the building, Daeun and Trixie decide to go into the theater to see the fifteen-minute short film. Meanwhile, you and Jungkook find a quiet little alcove near the entrance, chatting softly while watching the penguins behind the glass on the opposite wall. 
“I haven’t been to the zoo in ages,” Jungkook admits. “Dae’s mom used to always take her, though. They always came back with a stuffed animal from the gift shop—you might’ve seen them in Daeun’s room, actually. She loves them.”
You nod. “I remember, yeah. It’s quite an impressive collection.” Then you hesitate, gnawing on your bottom lip as you consider your next words and debate whether you’re being too nosy. “Daeun’s mom… can I ask what happened between you?” You pause, then quickly speak again. “And feel free to say no, obviously! You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m probably just poking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Jungkook smiles at you, but there’s a faraway quality to his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Nah, it’s okay. There’s really not much to tell, if I’m honest. Evelyn and I, we started dating when we were nineteen. We got married at twenty-three, had Daeun a couple years later, and then one day we realized that we’d become entirely different people and that we weren’t really in love anymore.”
“Oh.” You aren’t sure what else to say. “I-I’m sorry to hear that.”
He shrugs and sighs, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. “No need to be sorry; it was a mutual thing. Totally amicable. We’re still friends, and we’re a pretty kickass co-parenting team too.”
The conversation continues, and you find out that Evelyn’s job took her overseas last year. According to Jungkook, she currently lives with her new boyfriend, who’s a little pretentious but completely harmless. And despite the six-hour time difference, Evelyn still finds the time to FaceTime Jungkook and Daeun every Sunday afternoon. Because of those calls, she’s apparently heard all about you, too—you’re her favorite teacher, remember? he’d said with a laugh.
“What about you, then?” Jungkook glances over at you inquiringly, his eyebrows raised. “Is it my turn to pry?”
You can tell from the melodious lilt in his tone that he’s teasing. “My story’s far less interesting than yours,” you answer, fiddling with a stray thread on your jacket sleeve. “I don’t have an ex-partner or anything like that. I’ve just always wanted to be a mother, so one day I decided that I was going to do it. I used a donor, got pregnant, and here we are.”
Jungkook takes this in slowly, nodding. “Do you… I mean, do you know who your donor is? Have you met him?”
You shake your head. “No, it was an anonymous thing. I got a profile and some information about his appearance and hobbies and stuff, but not much beyond that.”
“I—” Jungkook begins, before trailing off. “I’m sorry. I’m asking too many questions. I don’t know a whole lot about the sperm donor thing, but I’m glad it worked out for you. Trixie’s an amazing kid.”
“She is,” you murmur. “I love her more than anything.”
“And you’re an amazing mom.” Jungkook’s voice grows softer, and when you turn to look at him, he seems closer than he was before. “I don’t know how you manage it all, teaching and parenting. But you do, and it’s incredible. You’re incredible.”
You aren’t sure who leans in first. All you know is that one moment, you’re staring into Jungkook’s earnest brown eyes, and then in the next, you’re kissing him.
It starts soft. Cautious, even. His lips press against yours gently, once, before he pulls back for a breath. You can feel him exhale, the warmth fanning your cheeks. And then you pull him back in by his collar, fisting one hand in the knit material and finding the soft hair at his nape with the other. 
Time slows to a standstill. Jungkook groans against your lips, and you feel the way it rumbles through his chest, the sensation sinking into your skin and settling straight in your core. His hands find your hips, and you wind both arms around his neck to pull him closer. 
And then, just as suddenly as it had stopped, time starts ticking again. Reality crashes down around you in the form of familiar, boisterous voices rapidly heading your way. You and Jungkook only barely manage to untangle yourselves before Trixie and Daeun round the corner of the alcove, chattering excitedly about all the new penguin facts they’ve learned. 
“Can we go to the petting zoo next?” Trixie asks, seemingly oblivious to your lingering embarrassment at nearly being caught.
Awkwardly, you clear your throat. At your side, Jungkook is faring no better, shuffling his feet and refusing to make eye contact. “Yeah, sure, bug,” you finally manage when you find your voice again. “Lead the way.”
///
Monday dawns cloudy and gray. The weather app on your phone promises thunderstorms later in the afternoon, but that isn’t enough to dampen your mood one bit. Instead, you thumb back over to your messages, your heart skipping a beat when you see the text still sitting at the very top.
[6:54am] Jungkook Jeon: Make sure to stop by bean there, done that before school. Left you a surprise ;) 
Taking a deep breath, you type out a response:
[6:56am] You: I’m a little scared. Should I be scared?
His answer comes in immediately. Nah. It’s a good surprise, I promise.
[6:58am] You: Sure it is… 🤨
Biting back a grin, you tuck your phone into your bag and head toward the front door of your apartment, nearly tripping over Taco along the way, who has chosen that moment to start slinking between your legs. 
“Really, Taco?” you ask the unperturbed calico cat at your feet. “What if I fell and cracked my head open? Who would feed you then, huh?”
As usual, Taco merely gives you an unimpressed look before flicking her tail and wandering off. Sighing, you call for Trixie to hurry up before turning to check your appearance in the mirror leaning against the wall of the entryway. It’s a large, vintage piece—a gold-framed, flea market find that you treasure dearly and swear makes you look good no matter how awful you might feel.
Satisfied, you hike your bag higher on your shoulder and smooth down the lapels of your coat. Trixie rounds the corner and gives herself a quick once-over too, and you give her a thumbs-up. “Ready, bug?”
“Yup!” she replies, tightening her grip on her and Daeun’s project—a carefully constructed shoebox diorama that shows a group of penguins in their natural icy habitat. 
“Let’s go, then.” Opening the front door, you let her through before locking it up behind you. Together, you head out to the car, and Trixie ensures that her diorama is completely secured in the seat beside her while you check your mirrors and turn on the ignition.
The drive to Bean There, Done That! takes only about ten minutes. Jin waves cheerily when he spots you walking up to the counter, but his face positively lights up when he sees Trixie is with you. He absolutely adores your daughter—Trixie loves him too—and on the occasional instance you’ve had to call on him to babysit, the two of them always end up stuffed with food on the couch and giggling over bad puns.
“What can I get you, ma’am?” Jin asks, directing the question at Trixie, who beams at him before turning to look at you with pleading eyes.
“Can I have a double chocolate cookie?”
“That… actually sounds really good,” you admit. “Make that two. And Jin, did someone leave something here for me earlier?”
Jin grins. “Thought you’d never ask. This here is from one Mr. Jungkook Jeon.” Reaching beneath the counter, he pulls out a box and watches as you open the lid to reveal half a dozen cinnamon streusel bagels with a neatly folded napkin on top. Unfolding it, you can only laugh at the words written on it:
Hope you have a mug-nificient day!
“Just so you know, he stole that line from me,” Jin says with a sniff. “I’m not letting him take the credit.”
“Duly noted,” you tell him, trying and failing to hide your smile as you look down at the note again. After a couple beats, Jin clears his throat, and you glance up to see that he’s grinning like the Cheshire Cat. 
“Sooo,” he begins slowly, dragging out the single syllable, “I imagine you want a fresh napkin and a pen, unless… are you going to see Mr. Jungkook Jeon at some point?”
You shrug, feigning nonchalance as best you can. “Trixie was paired with his daughter for a school project, so we’ve been meeting up for the past few weeks so they can work on it. Now that that’s over with… I don’t really know. We’re both pretty busy.”
Jin scoffs. “That’s a lame excuse, especially since he’s clearly flirting with you. And—”
Unfortunately, Trixie interrupts before he can finish his sentence, skipping back over from where she had been examining the pastry display cases along the wall. “Can I have a lemon bar?”
You fix her with a stern look. “You already asked for the double chocolate cookie, remember? The lemon bars can wait until next time.” Then you turn back to Jin, reaching into your bag for your wallet. “We should probably get to school, anyhow. What do I owe you?”
“Not a thing,” he replies, handing over a paper bag with your cookies and a bottle of apple juice. “It’s already been taken care of.”
From the wink he sends your way, you know that it must have been Jungkook who doled out the extra cash for your breakfast. “Thanks, Jin,” you reply, handing Trixie the cookies and juice before accepting the cup of coffee he hands over. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Pleasure doing business with ya,” is his response. Trixie waves goodbye, and together, the two of you head back out to the car. It’s started drizzling since you arrived, and you thank your lucky stars that you’d managed to snag a parking spot right up front.
Your daughter seems to be deep in thought as you help her buckle her seatbelt, her lips pursed in concentration. Then, out of nowhere, she asks:
“Do you like Mr. Jeon?”
You nearly choke. “W-what?”
“Mr. Jeon,” she repeats patiently, and you’re thankful that she’s not looking at you—instead, she’s focused on the raindrops splashing against the window and racing each other down the glass. “You spent a bunch of time with him when Daeun and I were doing school stuff. What’d you do?”
“Adult stuff,” you reply, before cursing inwardly at the potential implication behind your words. “Mostly, I spent my time grading homework. And he had some things to do for work, too.”
Trixie hums, apparently satisfied with this answer. “He’s nice,” she declares. “He buys us food and he has a cool house.”
“Sure,” you agree. “He’s a very nice man.”
And with that settled, you finish buckling her in her seat. Shutting the back door, you suck in a deep, calming breath before circling around to the driver’s side and setting off on the familiar route to Hybe Academy.
///
“... Miss {L/N}, are you listening?”
You blink and sit up a little straighter in your chair. “Yes, of course. Please go on.” Hastily, you scribble down a few random words, hoping that will placate the parent sitting across from you. It’s parent-teacher conference week—and you’re beyond grateful that it’s Friday night as Mrs. Greene rambles on and on about how the school isn’t doing enough for her precious baby boy. She’s talking about how the school day should be extended now—or at least how teachers should watch after the children whose parents can’t pick them up right at three-thirty. I don’t understand why it’s so difficult to understand. I mean, my husband is a very busy man, and I have my own business to run. I can’t be expected to drop everything in the middle of a client meeting to come pick Derrick up…
It takes everything in you not to snap at her. You know for a fact that her “business” is selling bejeweled keychains on Etsy—and that they’re incredibly poorly made, if the reviews are anything to go by. Instead, you bite your tongue—hard enough to taste metal—and remind her that the school’s operating hours are not for you to decide. 
After what feels like an eternity, the clock strikes seven, marking the end of her reserved time block. Standing up, you shake her hand and wish her a pleasant evening before opening your planner and checking to see if you have any more meetings. Your parents have Trixie for the night and there’s a bottle of wine on your kitchen counter calling your name, and you cannot wait to get home and relax in the bath with a glass. Maybe, you think, I’ll even do a face mask.
The final name written in your planner stops you in your tracks. You haven’t seen him in over a week—not since that Monday when he left you half a dozen bagels at the coffee shop. The girls had insisted on meeting up that evening to celebrate turning their project in, so you’d all gone to a popular taco joint. 
And then there’s a knock on your door, the three raps pulling you right out of your musings.
Silhouetted there in the doorframe is Jungkook Jeon, decked out in a polished charcoal suit and wearing a smile that makes your insides lurch dangerously in your chest. His dark hair is parted on the side, and you catch the slightest glimpse of his brow piercing glinting behind the hair that’s loose across his forehead. “Hi,” he says, his voice low, and you have to remind yourself that it’s impolite to stare as you find your voice.
“Hi yourself.”
He grins, baring the adorably prominent front teeth that you hate to admit you’ve grown rather fond of. “You look like you weren’t expecting me.”
“Oh, no. I just wasn’t expecting you on time,” you retort, gesturing to the plastic chair sitting across from your desk. “Your track record is questionable, at best.”
Jungkook grimaces. “Yeah, sorry about that. I made sure to leave plenty early this time, just in case I ran into traffic. Or if Bobby decided to corner me in the elevator again—that guy really doesn’t know when to shut up.” He pauses. “Wait, I told you about him, right? Works on the development team, owns one singular tie? Balding but tries to hide it with a bad combover?”
“That rings a bell,” you reply. “The tie is red and Christmas-themed, right?”
“Sure is.” Jungkook chuckles. “I thought they might’ve been polka dots the first time I met him, but nope. Christmas ornaments, even in the middle of July.”
You laugh. “Odd fashion choice.”
“Seriously. Don’t even get me started on the rest of his clothes,” Jungkook says, shaking his head. “Here, let’s change the subject. Have you eaten yet?”
You gesture around your classroom, artificially lit with fluorescent light even as the sun begins to dip closer to the horizon. “Nope. I mean, I had about twenty minutes between the end of the school day and the start of my first meeting, so I scarfed down an apple in the break room. But that was hours ago.”
“Perfect.” At your look of disbelief, he chortles and quickly amends his phrasing. “Sorry, I just mean that I’ve got you covered. Here, look.” And he begins pulling things out of a paper bag that you hadn’t noticed him carrying before. Crackers, sliced baguette, an assortment of cured meats and cheeses, grapes. He produces a bottle of wine next, and you very nearly start clapping. 
The last thing he pulls out is a single red rose, his smile soft and warm and dizzyingly affectionate as he presents it to you. “I—wow.” You aren’t sure what to say. “Thank you. I… I feel like I should’ve prepared something. Stolen an apple for you from the teacher’s lounge, at least.”
Jungkook snorts. “Well, here’s something you can help me out with. I don’t actually have glasses for the wine. Totally spaced and forgot that we’d need them. Any ideas?”
You’re on your feet before he can even finish asking. “I teach elementary schoolers, Mr. Jeon. I always have cups.” 
Making your way to the cabinet by the window, you grab a box of little paper cups and pull out two. Jungkook accepts them when you hand them over, and you watch as he unscrews the cap on the wine bottle before pouring out two generous helpings. Together, you lay out the food he’s brought, spreading it across whatever empty space there is on your desk. “Cheers,” Jungkook says once you’ve both taken your seats again, raising his paper cup to tap against yours.
“Cheers.”
For a moment, there is silence as you both take a drink. Then Jungkook speaks, glancing up at you as he carefully begins crafting himself a mini salami and cheese sandwich. “So, where does Trixie stay while you’re doing all these meetings? Do your parents have her?”
You nod, taking another much-needed sip of wine. “Yeah, my mom picked her up after school. They actually have her until Sunday—my dad’s going to teach her how to fish tomorrow, and then I think they’re going to build a pillow fort.”
Jungkook chuckles around a mouthful of gouda. “I love a good pillow fort. Dae insists on building one at least once a week, and at this point, I’m honestly surprised there isn’t one permanently in her bedroom.”
Grinning, you reach for a cracker and some cheese. “Taco manages to destroy every pillow fort Trixie and I try to make. She either decides it’s a trampoline, or that it’s a good time to start scratching everything she can reach. We can’t win.”
“Sounds like you need better defenses,” Jungkook replies, waggling his eyebrows. “That, or you can come over whenever you need a pillow fort fix. I’m sure Dae and Trixie would create something truly epic together. I mean, that penguin diorama was pretty fucking cool, wasn’t it?”
“Very fucking cool,” you agree, and both of you burst into laughter.
Deep blue twilight settles outside as the two of you continue chatting over your makeshift meal. The cheese begins to dwindle, only a few lonely grapes remain on their stems, and when you go to top of your wine, you realize there’s less than a quarter of the bottle left. 
“Wow, we really put a dent in this thing,” you remark, holding it out for Jungkook to see. “And it’s already dark out. The time kind of got away from us, huh?”
“You won’t catch me complaining,” Jungkook replies, tipping the last of his drink into his mouth. “I’m enjoying spending time with you.”
You can’t help but smile at his earnest honesty. “Me too.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then you rise from your seat. At the same time, Jungkook stands up from his chair on the other side of the desk, making his way around to meet you halfway. And then his mouth is on yours, warm and firm in a way that makes your heart do a backflip before plunking straight into your churning stomach.
Jungkook’s hands find your hips, palming along the flowy material of your dress before finding a resting place just above the soft curve of your rear. Your fingers delve into the soft hair at his nape to tug him closer, and he groans against your lips when your nails rake across his scalp. Slowly, he begins trailing kisses from the line of your jaw down to the column of your neck, pausing to lavish attention on any spots that make you gasp or squirm in his grasp.
The growing hardness against your lower belly is growing more and more evident with each passing second. Deliberately, you slide one hand down his chest, admiring the toned ridges of his abdomen that you can feel through his white shirt, before making your way down past his silver belt buckle. Jungkook inhales sharply when you cup his hardening cock through the charcoal material of his slacks, and, emboldened, you thumb across the head and relish in his resulting groan.
Any caution you may have had is thrown to the wind. Adjusting your grip, you shiver when you realize that he’s now fully hard beneath your fingertips, his erection thick and hot through the fabric. You try and visualize what it looks like underneath it all—the color of the flared head, the veins that run along it, the curve of the shaft, if there is one. And then you realize that you don’t have to imagine—you can look. You can rip his clothes off and explore every inch of his body in the way you’ve been itching to since you first kissed at the zoo last week. Your hands scrabble for his belt buckle, fumbling with the silver prong embedded in its notch.
“W-wait.” Jungkook’s hand lands over yours, and you note the breathlessness in his voice with satisfaction. “I… this is probably cheesy, but this isn’t how I pictured this happening. Not that I don’t like what’s happening, but I just… I’d like to take you out first. On a proper date, I mean. Without our girls in the next room, or down the hall, or in the museum playplace wreaking havoc.”
“That does sound nice,” you admit. “Actually, I’d really enjoy that. I haven’t been on a proper date in years.”
“Let’s do it, then,” Jungkook says. “My babysitter’s already been paid to watch Daeun until midnight, and your parents have Trixie. This is kinda perfect.”
You can’t help it—you drag your thumb across the head of his still-hard cock again and revel in the way his breath hitches just a little bit in his throat. “Midnight?” you query with an innocent tilt of your head. “Were you expecting something to happen tonight?”
“Hoping,” he replies with a cheeky grin. “And wait, let me ask you out properly. It just wouldn’t feel right otherwise.”
Confused, you let him stand from his seat and slip around you to retrieve the paper bag on the ground. Understanding dawns when he reaches inside and grabs a napkin, and you watch on in amusement as he takes a pen from the cup on your desk and begins writing. And after a few seconds, he wordlessly presents this to you:
Drinks? Dinner? Maybe dessert? ;)
And you can only laugh. “Game on, mister.”
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yuri-is-online · 22 days ago
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hey so can I have a scenario with Azul where he has a s/o and that s/o and him get along really well but this s/o also isn’t afraid to just be blunt and upfront with him about stuff? Their first meeting is him and the tweels doing something bad to this s/o, really bad, not like an annoyance. and they threaten to boil the three of them, actually being scary and meaning it. They’re being held back by their friends. S/o also scared people who aren’t their friends in the back though. After the bad first meeting, the second meeting goes better cuz they kind of try not to push s/o buttons, s/o is way nicer and ends up partnering up by the teachers orders with Azul and s/o comments on Azul being really smart and is super genuinely sweet and really smart themselves. They make a pretty good team working together? Does he and tweels ever apologise? If so s/o is like “It’s ok. Im sorry for saying I’d cook you. Realised a while ago that was messed up”? How do you think Azul would go about a relationship like this?
Hey so my requests are closed right now, so while I won't write out a full scenario I will answer the question I think you are asking?
I always write my reader as Yuu, so some degree of bad first impression is always going to be present. The scenario in Book 3 is something very bad and not just a mild annoyance; I don't think Azul likes being seen as the bad guy? But to a certain extent threats (even ones like being boiled alive) aren't really special to him because he hears them so often. I think he tunes them out when they come from someone like Yuu/the prefect because he does not see you as an actual threat. He takes someone like Leona more seriously because as a fellow Dorm Leader and a Prince, he has the sort of clout to hurt Azul's operation and reputation. The twins are a bit different, I could see them being a mix of amused and irritated with such an insult. After Azul's overblot it leans more towards amusement as they decide they like the initiative Yuu showed in out smarting them (not that they intend to let it happen again.) I really doubt there is much Yuu could do to make the twins not want to press their buttons, Jade in the most recent event mulls over the logistics of fucking with Malleus and Floyd quite literally presses a button Leona tells him not to.
Azul sees romantic love as something to capitalize on, I don't think he's thought terribly much about falling in love himself. If he stopped to think about it, there's a decent chance he might be afraid of it. He is the child of divorced parents, and he does not seem to have much of a relationship with his biological father. His relationship with his mother and step-father is good, at least from what he tells us, but he is not comfortable talking about or labeling his relationships in an emotional sense. He doesn't even refer to the twins as his friends even though that is very much what they are to him. When it comes to romantic relationships, it doesn't really matter what the person is like; there is going to be a lot of denial on Azul's part that what he feels is romantic love. He might very well deny it to the point of losing out on a relationship and deny that he is in pain until the day he dies.
Something I turn over in my head a lot is Azul's line when you upgrade his vignette/episode level. He tells you that someone as compassionate as you will be taken advantage of, and when that happens you should come see him. That's sort of how I approach writing him with a significant other. He wishes to take advantage of that person's kindness and monopolize their compliments, but at the same time he is deeply suspicious of attempts to take advantage of him and so plays down all attempts at the end of the chapter to compliment him. He would go about a relationship like the one you describe the same way he would go about any relationship: slowly and in denial about the appropriate label until he is forced to break.
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baronessvonglitter · 1 month ago
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Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 19 🍒
"Hungry Heart"
Joel Miller x f!Reader
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Word count: 6,022
Summary: Going to Jackson for a wedding seems like just a friend doing a favor for a friend, but old acquaintances and new attitudes don't always make for a great combination.
WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, age gap (reader is 39, Joel is 56), takes place June - December 2023, mention of eating food/drinking alcohol, mention of divorce, language, No Smut, mention of infidelity, post-divorce strife, Ellie is kind of a delinquent (will be discussed in next chapter), brief glimpse of lumberjack!Joel, forced proximity, mutual pining (mostly on Joel's side), Joel tries to be an authority figure and Ellie ain't having it
Author's Note: thank you to everyone who's stuck around to read this and been very patient with me! my birthday was last week so there was a lot going on, otherwise I would have had this out earlier. So.. we've got these two together again, but the reunion isn't exactly a happy one..
Series Masterlist
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June 2023 San Francisco, CA
It's not until you're seated in a booth at the trendy new sushi bar downtown that you begin to doubt your agreement to meet Sarah while she's in town for a work conference. You'd said yes initially, then waffled about it in the coming weeks, and now you're drinking sake to fortify yourself. Your therapist told you it's a bad idea to mix alcohol with reacquaintances, but you're already refilling the ochoko when you look up for a moment and spy Sarah approaching you through the crowded restaurant.
You've never thought about what she might look like. A part of you imagined that you'd be sitting down to dinner with the same kid from twenty years ago. But Sarah has grown up, in her thirties, a successful attorney. And, from what you gathered by spying on Joel's Facebook account years ago, she's also a mother.
"Thank you for meeting me," she says, embracing you the way women always embrace each other, something you never got used to because of you lack of female friends. She smells like expensive perfume, the kind you spray on yourself at Sephora just for fun, and is dressed in a white maxi dress with blue floral print. She looks amazing, and you silently berate yourself for wearing black distressed jeans, a Rolling Stones tee and your lucky red Converse.
"You're all grown up," you remark, a hint of sadness in your tone.
"You look beautiful," she says in return. "You don't even look like twenty years have passed."
Little does she know you spent forty dollars on a concealer to hide your undereye circles, and were talked into spending another twenty on something called a lip oil that makes your lips sticky and tastes like cheap pineapple, which you wiped away on the restaurant napkin as soon as you sat down.
Settling down to small talk, you neglect to look at your menus, annoying the waitress who stops by to take your order three times and ultimately just comes by to refill your drinks.
Sarah lives out east in Boulder, Colorado, practicing law alongside her fiance Theo. They have a son together, ten year old Finn.
"Theo proposed when I got pregnant," Sarah says. "But I wanted us to build a foundation first, construct our little family. And when the time was right, I proposed to him."
She shows off pictures of Finn, sharing the funny and cute anecdotes that parents do, and when she asks about Ellie you do the same: Ellie in the hospital, just hours old, wearing a tiny knitted pink and blue hat as she glowered at the camera; Ellie at four, playing T-ball, one of just two girls on an all-boys team; Ellie at ten winning the school spelling bee.
Being an Army wife gave you the opportunity to see the world, experience things you otherwise wouldn't. Japan, Germany, Italy.. you were happy that Ellie got to experience them too.
But even that couldn't save your marriage to Justin.
There were infidelities on both sides, and when you found out about his, it was almost a relief to discover he was not Nice Justin, just a man who had affairs. In the midst of your own liaisons, you felt vindicated, though the fun wore off easier than it had in your youth.
Filing for divorce was only difficult considering Ellie. Justin didn't fight it, handing over full custody. It was the only part of the process that broke your heart. Now you were just repeating a history of broken families. Once the divorce was finalized it was like throwing up after being nauseous for so long, just good to get it out of your system.
("I kept my married name, just to piss off the new wife," you tell Sarah, who snickers in response. "That's understandable.")
Settling in San Francisco where you like the neighborhood and the schools, life seems easier.
"Ninth grade history," you answer when Sarah asks what you teach. "I introduce Romeo & Juliet to kids who are the same age as those characters."
And now, with the niceties out of the way, there's nothing left to talk about but the past.
You've been dreading it.
"I never apologized for what I did," she says.
You nod, inviting her to continue.
"You probably know this by now, but I was the one who called your mom."
Of course you knew it all along, but hearing it is a different thing.
She got her number from your phone when you weren't around. And, unable to get the picture of you and her dad out of her mind, she dialed it one day and explained to your mom what she saw.
"Why?" you ask.
She averts her eyes a brief moment. "Deep down I always knew there was something going on with you and my dad.. the day of my party when I walked in on you, it was a rude awakening. It's one thing to know something is going on, and another thing to witness it. And later, when you left, I realized I'd taken it too far."
Sarah goes quiet and so do you, despite the chatter in the busy restaurant.
You ask, "Did Joel ever find out it was you?"
She nods. "I told him later.. after he started seeing that awful girl you were friends with."
That part of your life, the bubble of jealousy and despair in which you made your home, seems so long ago. "Hailey," you remind her.
"Yeah.. she didn't last very long. Dad broke things off when he caught her stealing from him.. and when that happened I realized he was just better off with you. But.. by then it was too late."
By then you were already apart. The damage had been done.
"Was he angry at you for what you did?"
Sarah shrugs. "It was a silent kind of angry. You know how he is. We avoided each other for weeks until it became impossible. And by then.. you were gone."
You take a moment to reflect on your memories of Joel. "How is he?"
She smiles, as if she knew or even hoped you'd ask about him. "He's good. He's in Jackson now. Wyoming. Tommy's there with his new wife.."
You shift uncomfortably in your seat. "And, uh.. your stepmom?"
She looks blank for a moment. "You mean Tess? No, they divorced a few years ago. She was nice, it just didn't work out."
You don't know whether to feel sorrow or relief at this fact, but for once you decide to be petty and let the relief take over, hoping he went through a fraction of the pain you endured.
Sarah toys with her salmon roll. "I'm sorry," she says, nodding to herself as if giving herself strength to do it. She looks you in the eye and you catch a glimpse of the girl she used to be. "I'm sorry. For starting everything."
So many times you've imagined what it would be like if you hadn't been found out by anyone else. Would you still have stayed in Austin? Would you and Joel have had more time together?
"It's in the past, right?" You manage a smile, happy that this is out in the open. A part of you feels like a weight is lifted. Things may not have happened the way you wanted, but now you can reconcile the things you can't control anymore.
"This is probably the wrong time to say this," Sarah continues, "but I'd like to invite you and Ellie to my wedding this December, in Jackson. You won't have to worry about airfare or hotels. Theo and I will cover your ticket and.. well, everyone's staying at my dad's. He has a huge house in town, enough for close family. I'd really love it if you would come."
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"Justin, you're really fucking me over, do you know that?" you try to speak as quietly as you can into the phone while laying out outfits for the Jackson trip. "Ellie's going to be brokenhearted. You told her you'd have her the entire two weeks."
On the other line Justin sighs, the new, younger Mrs. Williams can be heard in the background. "I promised Svetlana first. We really need this time together," he whispers as well, likely not trying to instigate another argument with his wife.
You have some choice words for Svetlana, but are interrupted when Ellie quietly walks into the room, well aware that the discussion is about her. "I'll call you back."
"Let me guess.." Ellie sits on the edge of the bed. "I'm not going with Dad for Christmas.."
There's no point in lying to her. She's a sharp kid. "I'm sorry you had to hear that, kiddo. He and your stepmother are taking an extended honeymoon in Malta," you tell her gently.
"You mean Slutlana?"
"What? Ellie, that's rude. Don't say that." You pause. "Don't say that to her face, at least."
She's quiet, and at times like this you regret that she's essentially living the life you lived at fourteen, always wondering when Dad would come back, if he even wanted to spend time with his own child.
"So.. I'm going with you?"
You nod. "Thank god your probation is over. It'd be nice if you paid Marlene a visit, or at least called her," I said, speaking of the parole officer assigned to Ellie after a particular incident. "We should send her some Tiff's Treats or something, she deserves a gift after putting up with your delinquent self." You playfully toss a tee shirt at her.
"Can I say bye to Riley?" she asks, hope evident in her eyes.
"No," you're adamant on this one thing, as lax as you were before the trespassing situation.
"Mom, my probation's over. I'm not gonna get in trouble just for talking to her."
"I don't care. I'm not going by the judge's rules, I'm going by mine." You pause. "You'll just have to come with me to Wyoming."
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Sarah had gone to the trouble of sending a beautifully embossed wedding invitation, done in traditional cream and gold, with photos of the two of them as children, as teens, and one gorgeously done couples photo. Theo's cute, and Sarah seems happy with him.
"Boring," Ellie says in response to the wedding festivities. "Why would anyone want to get married?"
You decide not to give her a response. At her age you didn't understand the fuss about weddings either.
Forgoing Sarah's offer of paying for your flight, you rent a Chevrolet Suburban for the drive over.
"You do realize we'll be driving for over fourteen hours, right?" Ellie says, helping you put the suitcases and bags in the roomy luggage hold.
"Yep. I checked it out on Google Maps."
"What happens if you get tired?"
"We'll drive during the day and find a rest stop or a motel at night," you shrug.
"You know.. I could take over the drive sometimes," she offers.
"Okay, kiddo. Why not?"
She brightens. "Really?"
"Absolutely fucking not." With a smile you open the passenger door and she hops in, grumbling,
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Only so much music can suffice a long ride, and somewhere outside of Reno, Ellie busts out a dog-eared copy of a book Justin had given her as a gag won the spelling bee.
"Oh no, Ellie, for god's sake, not the puns," you whine dramatically.
"Yes, the puns," she grins. "How else am I supposed to spend my time on this boring-ass road trip?"
"Brace yourself. We've only been on the road less than four hours."
She groans, slumping forward in her seat, revived shortly when she decides to recite every single pun in that damn book, and when you give her that Mom look, she simply grins and tells you, "That's what you get for turning down a plane ticket."
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Three days later you arrive. Jackson Hole is picturesque, especially in winter, as it it was just made to be the snowy backdrop on a postcard or a highlight on Instagram.
You turn down the main thoroughfare of the town, a light dusting of snow already falling from the heavens as you peer out the window, frowning in concentration as you try to familiarize yourself with the location. Ellie's buzzing in your ear like a mosquito, singing along to something on the radio. You turn the volume down. "Quiet down, I can't see."
She nearly bursts at the seam with withheld laughter. "You want me to quiet down... because you can't see?" she teases.
"Ellie!" you groan. "We're already late for lunch with the family."
Promising yourself you'll settle in a hotel after what you hope will be a painless reunification with Sarah and the rest of the Millers, you find your destination and drive up a perfectly paved driveway. Joel's house, a craftsman-style facade done in red brick and accented with carved gable peaks, looks exactly like a house Joel would own.
Parking close enough on the curved driveway without blocking in any other cars, you take a moment to rest, stretching your neck and shoulders.
"Should've let me drive," Ellie says from her seat as you both start to disembark.
There's a smart remark on your lips but when you turn to her you're distracted by a figure at the side of the house.
Someone's chopping wood, splitting logs with precision, though not necessarily speed. He's wearing just a white tee shirt, jeans, boots. You let your eyes linger on his physique. Who is that? you wonder.
As if he can hear your thoughts or sense your presence, the figure turns and wipes the sweat off his brow.
You know him in an instant.
Joel.
Your heart feels like it's going into arrhythmia.
"Come on, Ellie," you hurry her up the walk and to the front steps.
"The bags--"
"Fuck the bags." You press the doorbell nervously, willing Sarah or anyone to open quickly.
"You made it!" Sarah practically mauls you as she greets you, giving both you and Ellie a hug.
You're swept inside where it's nice and cozy, the air scented with pine and gingerbread. Christmas garlands are strung over every doorway, along the staircase railing, the windows, and the fireplace.
"Was my dad out there? I told him he needs to start getting ready. I don't want him coming to the luncheon all sweaty," Sarah says.
"What? No. I didn't see anything.. anyone," you stutter.
"I'm happy you're here, because we're actually going to have lunch at the Tipsy Bison instead. It's Tommy's bar, you probably passed it on the way up here."
"Oh, uh.." you're distracted by Ellie precariously sloshing a winter themed snow globe, the thought of Joel is still spinning around in your sleep-deprived brain, and Sarah is still talking to you like you don't look completely zoned out and anxious.
To make things worse, Joel comes in, carrying most of yours and Ellie's luggage. His white tee sticks to his sweaty skin, his face pink with exertion and dewy with sweat, his hair dark with more gray now than ever, and on his beard too. His eyes, those dark depths you've lost yourself in so many times, peer into yours, and for a moment you forget to breathe.
"You left the trunk open," he murmurs, as if it's a quiet admonition, a secret he doesn't want to tell.
"Oh.. thank you. You didn't have to do that." Your nervous glance at him gives your blushing away because you see his face redden as well.
"Dad, can you believe she has a kid now?" Sarah says excitedly.
There's a jolt of fear when you realize father and daughter are going to be in the same room, and neither of them knows it.
"Uh, Ellie, this is Joel Miller. He's, uh, Sarah's dad, and I used to babysit Sarah.. a long time ago.." Being put on the spot, you falter your words.
"Put 'er there, Joel," Ellie says, holding out her hand for him to shake, which Joel does, the start of a tiny smirk on his lips.
"We all lived in Austin together, with your Aunt Sofia. I mean, we didn't live together but we were neighbors," you babble, feeling even more blush creep up your neck. "Way before you were born, kiddo."
Meanwhile Sarah's eyes dart from Ellie to Joel to you, and back again, slower each time, as if she's piecing the puzzle together. Her eyes linger on Ellie, her expression unreadable before settling on you. You quickly glance away.
"Let me take that from you," you motion to the luggage Joel's carrying.
"Nah, I got it. I'll show ya to y'all's rooms." He hefts the suitcases and bags like they're nothing and heads upstairs. You have no choice but to follow him, sneaking a little glance at how his great his ass looks in his jeans.
"Nice place you got here, Joel," Ellie remarks, eyes skyward, surveying the landing at the top of the stairs.
"Thank you," he says quietly. "Do you always address your elders by their given names?"
"Ellie," you whisper harshly. "Mind your manners."
"Damn, sorry," she mutters back.
"Sorry, Joel. She's--"
"Hey, why do you get to call him Joel?"
"Because I'm an adult," you say under your breath.
"He's older than you. Like, a lot. Like, Grandpa Bob's age."
"Stop it," you say through clenched teeth as Joel clears his throat.
"I can put y'all next door to each other--"
"I call this one!" Ellie claims the first door on the left, grabbing her bags and leaving Joel to lead you a little further down the hall.
"'M afraid this one is right across the hall from mine," he mumbles, leading you inside the comfortably decorated bedroom to set your things down.
"Thank you," you murmur, heart thrumming in your chest. This is the first time you've been alone with him in fifteen years. "You.. have a really beautiful home here, Joel."
He looks around, eyes darting anywhere but yours. "Thank you, that means a lot. Built it myself-- well, with Tommy's help."
"Really?" It's hard to pretend you're not impressed. "Must've been a lot of hard work."
"Yeah, it was. But she's sturdy." Joel gives a sturdy pat to the wall, and you can't help looking at his hand, the way his thick fingers splay out against the dark green wallpaper. Those are fingers that used to find their way inside you, curving just so in order for you to come quickly while his lips and tongue worked in tandem to--
Ellie's voice comes from the other room. "Wow! You guys have cable? Do you have HBO?"
"No Euphoria!" you shout back, scoffing when she quiets again.
There are too many questions on the tip of your tongue, too many things you want to say but not when you're so nervous that your hands are shaking. Staying quiet is easier. More awkward, but easier.
The room fills with unspoken words and missed chances as the two of you shift uneasily, not knowing where to start, not knowing if you should start.
"Didn't know ya had a daughter," he grumbles. "Not 'til Sarah told me."
"Yeah. Ellie's.. precocious."
A ghost of a smile graces Joel's lips as he looks at you and for a moment in time you feel eighteen again.
"How old is she?" he asks.
"She turned fourteen this past spring." God, please don't let him do the math, please don't let him do the math.
Instead he gives a low whistle, wears a teasing smile. "You look good for bein' the mom of a teenager. You still look beauti-- still look the same," he finishes.
You're thirty nine now and in possession of all the complexities that come with your age. There's more gray in your hair than you care to admit (which Ellie tells you not to dye because it "looks cool"), and there are a few more pounds on your person and a few more lines on your face than you're happy with, but his compliment warms you nonetheless.
"You look.. good.. too." Jesus, how did this man age like fine wine? If anything, the past two decades only served to make him hotter. It's unfair.
He takes a step forward, his face determined, lips pursed like he's still calculating his decision. "I.. I wanted to say--"
This time Sarah comes up, dressed for the cold, putting on her gray gloves. "Dad, get in the shower already," she scolds him. "I'm taking her and Ellie to the Tipsy Bison. We'll see you there."
Joel's eyes set on you. "I don't mind takin' them."
You open your mouth to speak, even though you have no idea how to respond. "Honestly, I'll drive me and my daughter. And we can get a room in town."
"No way, Jose." Sarah loops your arm through hers. "You're staying with us and that's final. So, will you let me drive you, or do you want to wait for my dad?"
Waiting for Joel.. it seems you've spent the majority of your youth waiting for him.
"Can we go with Sarah?" Ellie asks, solving the problem for you.
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In truth you would have liked a moment to rest, to sleep, to puzzle over the strangeness of the day so far. You're almost a thousand miles from the home you've made after your divorce, under the same roof as the man who changed your life in ways good and bad, harboring a secret from him and his family. Not to mention Ellie's ignorance of her origins.
Sarah herds you and Ellie into the Tipsy Bison, a spacious bar establishment on Main Street, part of the scenery you must have driven by without noticing upon driving into town. Inside is the typical decor you'd expect: neon lights advertising every brand of beer and alcohol you can imagine, taxidermy mounts of bears, bucks, and elk. Pool tables are at the far left, dartboards to the right, a couple of foosball tables as well. There's a stage beyond the pool tables, ready for a band or DJ, a makeshift dance floor in front of it, and colored lights remain still overhead, their brightness dulled and stilled by the daytime.
There's a homey, cozy feeling as you glance around. The bar spreads along the far side beyond a range of tables and booths, boasting a wide variety of booze. Working behind the bar is a face you haven't seen in awhile: Tommy.
He comes out to greet you, his smile and bright and joyful as you've always known him to be, and part of you feels guilty that the last time you were together you'd been drunk, making out next to his truck, after meeting in a bar just like this one.
"Hey you!" He envelops you in a tight hug, and you start to feel better. Bygones are certainly bygones in his case.
"Tommy, it's good to see you again," you smile, pulling away to get a good look at him. "You've hardly aged. What's with you Millers, are you all vampires or something?" You cast a playful look at Sarah, who's bringing her fiance and her son to meet you.
Tommy shrugs, a playful grin on his lips. "You're more than welcome to join our Legion of the Undead," he jokes.
You're introduced to Theo, Sarah's husband-to-be, who's on the quiet side, a contradiction to Sarah who's chattering away about him, and Finn, who's an exact replica of his dad, eyeing you and Ellie with a shy smile.
Ellie manages to find a friend in him as you and the others get to catching up. You're introduced to Maria, Tommy's wife, the roundness of her baby bump just barely showing. She oversees the caterers as they start setting up for lunch. Tommy and Sarah talk about you like you're a part of the family instead of someone who knew them for a summer and changed things forever, even in some small way.
"Sarah tells me this is your place now," you speak to Tommy, who's behind the bar and pouring you a drink.
"Sure is," he says, sliding the drink across the bar to you. "Don't know anyone who orders a gin and tonic in the middle of winter," he says, teasing you.
"I'm eccentric," you smirk, taking a sip of the crisp, slightly bitter drink.
"Should be you behind this bar, Cherry," he winks.
"Oh god, no one's called me that in forever," you groan, doing a quick check on Ellie to find her attempting to play pool with Finn.
"How's business?" you ask him.
"Good, good," he nods. "Just glad to be settin' down some roots, buildin' somethin' for when the baby comes."
"Congratulations," you smile. "You and Maria seem like a good fit."
"Well.. y'know.. can't fuck around forever," he chuckles, then he spots someone at the entrance.
"Hey, brother!" Tommy raises his hand in greeting and you stay still, wishing you could sink down into the ground or better yet, become invisible completely.
The old-fashioned jukebox ends a Fleetwood Mac song and drifts into "Hungry Heart" by Bruce Springsteen starts, the catchy, melancholic combo of piano, drums, bass, guitar and saxophone wafting throughout the bar. You keep your eyes on your drink, willing for all of this to be just a dream, some intrusive thought you've put incredible detail into, prolonging your grief over lost love.
But there he is, a barstool between you, giving you your space while ready to jump up at a moment's notice if you want him closer. Your casual glance gives you away when you stare too long at him, clad in a green flannel shirt, his gray tee peeking beneath. You could swear it's the same flannel shirt you wore at the cabin, in the days when you were younger and carefree, before bad things happened to separate you.
Joel catches your look, lips twitching into a smile as his hands wrap around a glass of whiskey.
"So, what took you away from Boston?" you ask, putting your lips to your drink so you're not tempted to ask too much. It's an attempt to break the awkward silence.
"Lot of things," he mutters, staring into the amber liquid. "But mostly I followed Tommy out here."
"I was in Boston with him for awhile." Tommy shakes his head. "Hated it. I'll never set foot on the East Coast again if I can help it. I came out here, met Maria, started a family."
"And Sarah was already out here, buildin' a life. Just made sense for us all to be together again."
You look at both of them, glad the conversation isn't just between you and Joel. "The house is amazing. Joel told me you both built it."
The look of pride on their faces is endearing.
"We did, and mine too, across the street from his," Tommy adds.
"What happened to the contracting business?"
"We expanded it," Joel answers, a twinkle in his eye though his expression remains serious. "Made a nice chunk of change. Got branches in Oklahoma, Arkansas, even as far as Georgia."
That would explain the six-bedroom house, the fancy week-long wedding rituals that Sarah has joyfully swept you up in, and the catered lunches. The Millers have become quite financially well-off.
You listen to the brothers talk about some of the adventures they've been on, the good and the bad that has passed and ultimately brought them here, with you, once again.
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The lunch spread is impressive: Texas style barbecue of ribs, brisket, and chicken; side dishes of beans, potato salad, grilled corn on the cob, macaroni and cheese, and mouthwatering desserts of pumpkin and pecan pies, cheesecake, banana pudding, and peach cobbler.
You haven't realized how hungry you are until you realize you have to remember to force yourself to eat slower, accidentally spilling a little barbecue sauce on your shirt. Embarrassed, you wipe it away, glancing at Ellie and finding her doing the same thing, just shoveling forkfuls of food in her mouth.
"Easy there," Joel's voice booms from across the table. "No one's gonna take it from ya," he playfully chides.
You were so absorbed in your lunch that you didn't realize he was right across from you. "Ellie," you scold her quietly. "Slow down."
"This is slow for me," she answers.
"Mind your mama," Joel says gruffly, his tone is authoritative.
She looks up at him, in annoyance and surprise. "You don't tell me what to do."
"And you don't talk back like that." Joel's voice gets a little more strict.
"Joel, stop," you intercede, your voice just as terse. The chatter around the table has dimmed but it's obvious everyone has their focus on you three.
"The kid obviously needs some fuckin' manners."
You scoff. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
His eyes lock with yours, dark and cold. "I see where she gets it from. I guess that's what happens when a dad ain't around to teach some respect."
"Fuck this," Ellie mutters, pushing back from the table and throwing down her napkin, quick to get up and leave.
Your face is flaming red with both anger and embarrassment as your gaze burns through Joel's. "There's something wrong with you. Seriously," you mutter before getting up to go after her.
Joel goes after you. Sarah goes after Joel.
"Ellie!" you call out, watching her walk off in the direction of the house.
"I'll get her," Sarah volunteers, gently touching your arm. And then you hear her speak to Joel under her breath, something like "You're ruining it," before she hurries up to catch Ellie.
It's you and Joel now.
"Babygirl," he starts, his voice low.
"Babygirl?? Fuck you!"
Joel goes pale, obviously not expecting that. "I deserve that. I deserve for you to hate me."
"Hate you? No, you deserve worse than for me to hate you! How dare you yell at Ellie like that? I never once saw you treat Sarah that way."
"She never acted like that," he huffs.
"Do us both a favor and just stay away from us for the rest of the week. I'll see about getting a motel tonight, just.. fucking leave us alone."
He mutters Christ, and reaches for you, pulls you to the side of the building. "I'm sorry, all right?"
"Yeah? Tell her that." You could easily leave. He's not restraining you, but you stay. "Is that all you have to apologize for?"
He looks guilty. "No, of course not. I've been trying to talk to you since you got here--"
"Fifteen goddamn years and I don't hear anything from you? And now you.. what, you expect me to fall into your arms like I'm a stupid fucking teenager again? Go to hell! Nothing is that simple anymore!"
You hadn't meant for all your rage to come spilling out, it was just supposed to be about Ellie, but now that you're face to face with him, you can't help wanting to rage at him. Joel backs away from you, his eyes on the ground, hands on his hips, jaw set.
"Longer than that, actually," you softly correct yourself. "San Antonio.. you fucking left me. On my birthday."
He steps forward, not ready to back down. "I went to jail for you. On my birthday."
"I didn't ask you to do that! I didn't ask for anything but for you to love me! And you stopped!"
"No, I didn't," he whispers, arms hanging at his side even though they itch to reach out for you, hold you, make it better again.
"Don't say that," you warn him, backing away. "Don't insult my intelligence, Joel. You don't know what I went through after you left me. My heart was broken for years!"
"You were just a kid. I.. I thought I was doin' right by lettin' you go."
"I wasn't better because of you breaking up with me. I got worse! So much worse!" You don't dwell a lot on the past, specifically the college years that are now mostly a blur of hookups and hangovers, but now it all comes rushing back. Joel was your safety net and he took all that away from you once you started to freefall.
"Bullshit. You got married," he says bitterly.
"I did that so I could feel normal again. I tried to save myself. But it didn't matter in the end because he didn't love me either. Though I have to say, my divorce hurt a hell of a lot less than your abandonment."
Joel starts to look his age. The lines in his face deepen with worry and regret as he absorbs your words, mulling over everything that has happened. "I'm sorry--"
"Besides, you got married too! So please don't play like you're such a saint. You hardly look the part." Your anger has warmed you, given some spice to your blood so that you don't even feel the cold anymore. You roll your sleeves to your elbows, fists curled, adrenaline pumping as you finally tell him everything that's been locked away inside your heart.
"I don't accept your apology," you grunt, adding, "And don't ever yell at our daughter like that ever again!" You storm off, wishing you'd brought your jacket but it would mean having to walk past Joel, back into the restaurant and out again, and you're already walking away. It seems one of you is always walking away from the other.
It's snowing again when you find Sarah and Ellie, further down in front of a storefront, steaming cups of hot chocolate in their hands. Both are smiling, chatting, seemingly getting along. You know you should reprimand Ellie, tell her to apologize to Joel, but how can you be a hypocrite that way when you won't even talk to him yourself? All you can think about is leaving, going straight to the motel and picking up your things at Joel's later.
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Sarah talks you into staying, warning of bad weather coming in soon. She apologizes for Joel, and you apologize for airing your grievances so publicly.
"Just don't do it at the rehearsal dinner tomorrow," she smirks. "Then I'll have to leave your ass out in the snow."
That evening you and Ellie keep to your rooms. You use your phone for distraction when your attention span keeps drifting from your novel, but even technology isn't the answer. There's only so much Merge Mansion you can play, and not even True Detective can hold your attention for long. You decide to rewatch Narcos (for the plot, you tell yourself) when Ellie knocks on your door.
"What's up, kiddo?" You press pause and scoot over on the bed, offering her to get comfy next to you.
"Have you seen the news?"
You're on Do Not Disturb and haven't gotten any of your usual notifications.
"There's a blizzard coming tonight. Sarah says sometimes the main roads get snowed in and we won't be able to get out."
Oh Sarah Miller, the purveyor of bad news. "She told me something like that. How long do they expect conditions to last?" You're already checking your phone.
"Could be days, maybe even up to a week," Ellie shrugs.
"Great," you mutter. "So we're stuck here even after the wedding?" It's the day after tomorrow.
"Please don't make us go to the motel. Sarah's really cool and really nice. And I even like Theo and Finn.. even Joel isn't so bad so long as he stops talking to me like a dad."
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That night, as the blizzard blows in, turning everything outside completely white, Joel tosses in his sleep in his room across the hall from yours. It's not the howling winds keeping him awake; he's lived here long enough to get used to such natural disasters.
There's something you said to him, earlier outside the bar. It was an explosive moment, with words exchanged like bullets. But in the midst of it all he took away that one sentence: don't ever yell at our daughter like that ever again.
Our daughter?
dividers by @saradika 👑
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saltofmercury · 1 year ago
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Reunion
Pairing: König x f!reader
Author's note: This fic I think will be broken into three parts. There's so much I want to write but I also need to cut down!
Requested by @wikusiax0
Summary: König takes you to meet his family.
Part 2
"Reunion"
There’s a shaking at the other end of the couch.
His big knee jumps up and down rapidly, sending waves towards you. 
You’re used to it by now, calming his nerves about an upcoming mission. You put your hand on his leg, rubbing gently up and down.
The motion doesn’t stop however, prompting you–
“You’re sending a mini earthquake over here.”
He stops, smiling at you. The smile seems forced, showing the dimples carved into his cheeks. 
“Sorry schatz” he says absentmindedly. 
He takes a deep breath, trying to regulate the chaos that’s sending ripples of anxiety throughout his body. 
He starts to fiddle with his fingers.
First cracking them as he brings his knuckles into his other hand and bends, pulling each finger individually. He’s about to crack his first knuckle now, but you stop him.
“What’s going on? I can feel your anxiety.”
He pauses, his bottom lip being bitten by his teeth. You can see how his nostrils kind of flare. He opens his mouth to speak but he ends up laughing.
“It’s stupid really.”
He’s said this before, he’s said that he always gets nervous before a mission. Sometimes you’re not sure if he’s mistaken excitement for anxiety.
However, there's been a small doubt in his mind now that he won’t be as invincible as he once was because now there’s someone else in the picture. Someone who is waiting for him to come home.
You tilt your head, smiling at him, waiting for him to tell you.
“My uncle passed away.”
Your stomach drops, your eyes widen. 
“Oh my god why didn’t you say anything?
“This is exactly why. You get weird around death.” 
He pokes down at your leg.
This was a bit of an exaggeration. When you told him about how many childhood animals you found out really died and didn’t run away, it opened a floodgate of tears, him consoling you telling you that:
“It was a long time ago, things like this happen.”
It was embarrassing. It had now become something that he thought was triggering towards you.
He exhales, continuing,
“That’s not even the bad part. I hardly knew him and… well, he was hardly my uncle.” eyeing you carefully. 
It wasn’t an immediate family member. It was the person behind the funeral who insisted König should come home to pay his respects.
You stop for a second. Confusion clouds your mind, eyebrows shift from their place, you’re about to ask him what the big deal is if he hardly knew him, but he stops you.
“I…uh have to go to Austria.”
“Oh…”
From what he’s told you, it’s been years since he’s gone back. He never had a reason to go back.
His mom was divorced and traveling the world.
His relationship with his dad was never there, so he never put effort into it. 
His older brother, much like his dad, was kind of distant towards him. They had each other’s numbers and talked on the phone every other month.
It was sad, but it’s the way he liked to keep it. He told stories of his mom, enduring a relationship she never wanted but kept because she came from a broken family. 
She told him once he enlisted that she only stayed so that he wouldn’t be made fun of or looked down upon for having divorced parents. 
It was also something he didn’t like to talk about. 
He looked at you, bumping his knees together, waiting for an opportunity to bomb you with another surprise. 
“Maybe… I was wondering if you could go with me?”
“Me?”
“Yeah why not? We could vacation for a bit, have you meet my family.”
There it was. Something you had always wanted but knew you couldn’t get. 
If he was being honest, it had been long overdue —he had wanted you to meet his mom. He could get away with never meeting his dad or brother, but his mom was 100% the reason he wanted to bring you.
There were constant phone calls where she had heard your voice in the background but König had been changing the subject whenever she brought you up.
“I know you’re living together, I am a mother of modern times!”
König laughed, ignoring her and asking her what she did today.
“You can’t keep secrets from mama, at least introduce us on video, I won’t say anything embarrassing!”
“Mama… stop, in time you will meet.”
“In time? When? When I am in heaven?”
König laughed, there was nobody more impatient than his mother. 
“Okay,” you nodded your head at him. Biting your cheeks, excitement flowing through your body.
“A week at most, schatz, don’t worry.”
Exhaling, a wave of relief surrounds his body.
At least the hard part is halfway over.
*
Throughout the week you asked him questions about his family. At least now was the chance to really ask him, get something out of him. Your relationship was very open. You two did not keep things from another and had great trust in one another. There were touchy subjects as all relationships have, but his family was one of the touchiest. 
“So what’s your mom been doing lately?”
He looked over at you as he packed his black shirts. 
“She … uh… she’s been in Malaysia the last time I spoke to her. She said something about the tropical landscape.”
You nodded, asking if she was still with her boyfriend.
“I guess so, he’s the one who paid for the ticket.”
If he was being honest, he was weirded out that his mom had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who looked just like his dad, but had a softer personality.
You’ll never forget when he had been in his computer room, talking to them through FaceTime, about him spending the holidays in Austria just for a week, when all of a sudden, his mom’s boyfriend called him “son.”
König practically tensed up, you heard it in his voice, his tone had pitched, as he excused himself in English and not German.
You saw his shoulders tense up, along with the face in the monitor scrunch up as he tried to excuse himself again, saying you called over to him.
As he left the call, he bumped right into you, laughing at how weird he got.
“He called me son?! What the fuck!” His face turned red, he shut his eyes, scrunched his nose as if he had tasted something bitter, trying to get the aftertaste out of his mouth.
“He’s just being nice, he loves your mom.”
“Yes but he is not my dad!”
“It’s a term of endearment Konig.”
“Well he can keep it!”
You kept pressing for information.
“What about your brother? Any news about him?”
He eyed you again, knowing exactly what you were doing. 
“Yeah, he called me yesterday, still painting. Still living with my dad.”
You bit the bullet and asked.
“How’s your dad going to feel about us going there in two days?”
He smirked for a second, his tongue licked his lips as his face contorted to being serious. 
“It doesn’t matter because we probably won’t see him. It was my mother’s best friend, my father won’t make an appearance.”
“Oh…”
If you were being honest, his dad and brother were the intimidating ones. You were glad that at least you were going to meet the important person in his life and not the ones who had scared him, and intimidated him.
He closes the luggage and sits on the bed.
“You don’t have to worry. It will be my mom and her boyfriend. This vacation should be simple.”
He traces along the end of the bed, sighing, grabs your hand.
“I know it must be intimidating but I’m really happy you’re coming.”
You smile down at him, adjusting yourself into his lap. He pulls you in, kissing you and falling back onto the bed. He adjusts himself on top of you, kicking the luggage down on the floor.
“I can… show you my favorite bakery, my old school, the nice little pond where my uncle took me sometimes.” He kisses down your neck, pinning your hands above your head.
“You can meet my mom and tell her how much you love me.”
You laugh, sliding your hands from his grasp to his face.
“I’ve been wanting to tell her since forever but you kept delaying our meeting.”
A quick peck to your lips, he sits up.
“Ok go ahead and ask what you want. It’s better to know now then go in blindly.”
You’re quick to ask about his uncle.
“Well, I only call him my uncle because he was my mother’s best friend growing up.”
He eyes you again, trying not to get sentimental.
“He knew my mom first, so he stood by her, often giving her money when she needed it. Giving her a room in his house when things got sketchy after I left.”
“Uncle Elias was friends with both my mom and dad, so he knew a lot about the troubles they had in their marriage from both points of view and he played devil’s advocate for a lot of their fights.” 
“It wasn’t until one day that my dad had threatened him to not house my mom or else he would tell his family his true secret… that Elias was gay.”
“I guess my dad has always been an asshole because Elias ended up coming out to his family not on his own terms, but they didn’t care, but he never was the same with my dad anymore.”
“I think part of me does want to go, because uncle Elias was such a good friend to my mom, and an even greater uncle to me, however, part of me hates that Elias still wanted to maintain a friendship with my dad.”
Your eyes meet, and he closes his hand around yours. 
“And part of me, regrets bringing you when Elias isn’t even around anymore.”
You bite your bottom lip, nodding slowly.
"It's okay, I've never wanted to rush you."
He looks up at you, forcing a smile.
"Come on, let's finish packing. You'll understand later."
You continue to roll your jeans into your luggage on the floor.
There was just so much more you wanted to ask him, but figured it would be best seeing it in person.
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lovieku · 3 months ago
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GOOD LUCK, BABE! #3 ⋆ 정국
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what happens when you leave everything behind, only to be faced with it again years later? eunbi is convinced she was given another shot at keeping all she ever wanted, but it’s difficult when that all is her childhood best friend who doesn’t want to do anything with her anymore. how to earn his trust back?
☾ pairing: non idol!jk x fem!oc
☾ genre: childhood friends to strangers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut
☾ word count: 9k +
☾ warnings: explicit language. say hi to eunbi!!! and to the friend group!!! its a bit funny until it becomes angsty … ouch. jeongguk is a bitch lowkey. pun unintended (you’ll see). theyre dramatic as hell. like bro it cant be that serious 😭. im sawrry for this. and its not all!!! see you in fourth chapter 🫡
☾ author’s note: hi hi hi!!! this took a bit to fully convince me but in the end it did. i was frustrated because i felt like i couldnt really use my words properly to tell the whole thing but… here we are now!!! thank u!!! enjoy 🫶🏻
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three ⋆ this is me trying
Up to that point, Eunbi’s life has been a constant adjusting to new surroundings, leaving bits and pieces behind, getting attached to new ones, and hoping they wouldn’t be taken away from her. It would always end up as she feared it would, though. From as early as she can remember, Eunbi would live off her blue backpack, where she gathered a toothbrush, a change of clothes and her favourite plushie to help her sleep and adapt faster to the smaller bed at her dad’s house. When her parents had divorced, it had been a rough patch before the both of them could come to a legal agreement; that being, she would spend the weekend with her father, and then stay with her mother again until Friday rolled around.
She rarely looks back at those days now, but when she does — mostly at night, her mind seemingly incapable of putting a stop to her furious flow of thoughts and just sleep — she thinks if it hadn’t happened to her when she was still pliable and mouldable, when she was yet to be met with what ordinariness was supposed to look like for others, she wouldn’t have been ready to wholly face all that followed. Eunbi was young when she learned that love between two people could end so easily, and her innocent self accepted that as the norm.
As a result, what she found harder to accept, more than her own mother and father not even being able to stand next to one another without ending up quarrelling, was having to leave her small black poodle in Gwangju, with her grandma, after moving away to Busan. Curly (little Eunbi had given him that name for obvious reasons, and to this very day she finds it dumb, but it makes her giggle nonetheless) had been a great companion through the inevitable loneliness she had to face as an only child. She was convinced he could understand her better than no other, even when she would force the tiny creature to sit and listen to her ramble on.
Busan was the next big change that was pushed onto Eunbi, only a few years after her mother got engaged to a man that would soon replace her biological father: with time, sleeping over at his house for the weekend was no longer even a contemplated thought on his side, coming up with excuses after excuses as not to, and that slowly led to showing less and less interest in keeping up with her and meeting up. The little girl had always been numb in relation to such negligence, and because of this she could consider herself lucky in some distorted sense; it didn’t affect her as much as it should have.
Part of that was also due to her step-dad being a great father figure during the initial times of his and her mom’s relationship, making sure to adapt to Eunbi’s pace and boundaries, never overstepping while also being able to bring fun into her life by taking the family out to visit places and eat delicious meals. What he couldn’t do for her, however, was live with a dog. When he and her mother decided to finally move together following their wedding, they both agreed on wanting to restart from a brand new place. Busan was their perfect pick for a variety of reasons: her mom got offered a job at a recently established company that seemed promising, and her step-dad could fulfil his deep-rooted dream of expanding his by starting a new branch.
Every single thing about him seemed perfect to her mom’s eyes, even if he was apparently deathly allergic to dog’s fur. And, of course, she picked her husband over Curly. Eunbi couldn’t believe it, nor accept it. The girl cried over the small dog for the two weeks prior to moving, during the trip to Busan, and for the following days there. Her grandmother would keep her updated by sending pictures of Curly through email, and even after the scar had healed, those would never fail to make her tear up.
As shameful as it might be to admit it, after having dried herself from half the water that made up her body because of the constant crying, it didn’t take long for the scar to close. When she first stepped foot in the big city by the seaside, Curly showed up right in front of her. Just in human form. Big eyes, long black hair and puppy manners, her neighbour was definitely sent to her by something greater. Eunbi was obsessed. It didn’t show at first, her pride prevailing. But it was harder and harder to fight against it. Jeongguk was simply too easy to love.
They became inseparable. Wherever he was, better believe she was there too, attached at his hip. And if they showed up alone, people would naturally ask about the other. Because the moon is never seen without its stars, and sunflowers only ever turn to face the sun. Their bond could be perceived by anyone as unbreakable, a friendship to envy and wish for, and every brick that built it had resulted in the creation of their own safe haven that only had space to contain the two of them. Not anybody else could be let in, the bubble exclusively recognised their password. It wasn’t composed of words, or numbers. It was the look of understanding they would share; the white lies used to cover the mischief of the other; their own handshake, accompanied by an original friendship jingle that Eunbi came up with randomly; the assurance that they could reveal their biggest secrets to one another, and they’d be kept like an oath.
There’s many of those that Eunbi shamelessly revealed to Jeongguk, some with intent and others unleashed spontaneously during their many endless talks. But when she thinks of it, she never admitted the single one that really mattered, the one that her best friend in the whole world needed to know, and remember. At all times. In any circumstance. It wasn’t a secret, it was more a result of her pondering; it came to a full reasonable thought only years later, and by then it was too late to tell him.
Eunbi thinks, and she’s sure, Jeongguk was the reason why all that came before the two of them had to happen. If it didn’t, she would have spent her whole life looking for that missing puzzle piece: under the cushions of the couch, in between her bed sheets, accidentally thrown away in the bin. It was as if all the hardships she experienced were justified, because at the end of the tunnel Jeongguk was waiting for her. And everything finally made sense. The puzzle was complete. Jeongguk was the reason himself. He was sent to teach her an important lesson: everything happens for a reason. There’s a cause and an effect, and even if the cause was suffering, at least the effect was her favourite boy.
Then, a gust of wind had wiped the puzzle to the ground, every single piece losing its place. When her best friend was taken away from her, she stopped being so convinced with the thought she herself had harboured, because she suddenly couldn’t find the meaning behind such a cruel fate. If everything really happened for a reason, then what was it? Jeongguk helped her see colours, only to return to black and white. Leaving him behind had marked the death of a version of herself that she would never get back.
Seoul was big, and harder to adjust to, even more with the baggage she was now dragging behind. Unpacking it, she found out all she had brought with her was a shattered trust and a soon to be broken promise to never get attached again. It was hard to be faithful to such an imposition, when Eunbi was born to give out love. It was hidden in that luggage, in between fears and regrets, but surely present.
And it prevailed in the end. Even at a slower pace, love found its way up and helped a lost Eunbi navigate the big capital city, promising new beginnings and healing. She found that in the faces of people that she would then start to recognise as friends, inside warm cafes during the coldest days of winter, and in the certainty that no matter where she is, she is always looking up at the same moon.
What she has built in Seoul so far feels the closest to stability that she has experienced in years. Starting university and meeting Dahye was the last bit of convincing it took to make her consider once again that a reason could exist, and that in the end it would make sense. Maybe not totally. Maybe just partly is enough after all.
Until, seeing a pair of familiar starry eyes in the midst of dull ones was all she needed to firmly believe in what she had been finding hard to accept. It took one shared look for past and present to get blurred together, and the mixture of old with new feelings created a mess. It was nice, nonetheless. Better than the seemingly impossible to get rid of emptiness at the pit of her heart.
Behind her eyes, Eunbi could see the puzzle slowly reaching its final form again, this time with more missing pieces, but the image was at least recognisable. When Jeongguk showed up in front of her again like magic, she contemplated becoming religious. Getting to her knees and starting praying to whatever greater force was shining on her path to please keep doing that. None of that showed on the outside, her smile breaking and mirroring the expression on the boy’s face. Pure sorrow. She knew she was probably the last person on earth Jeongguk wanted to see, and the fact that he wasn’t even trying to mask it didn’t help.
The most rational response she could come up with at that moment was to act as if nothing ever happened. And then, the bricks that a long time ago held together their safe bubble were being used by the boy to raise a high wall between them, making sure accessing his space would be impossible for Eunbi. Who could blame him? Still, the happiness she shamelessly felt when Jeongguk showed up at her 20th birthday party was too consuming, she selfishly wished for the rest of her birthdays to always look like that as she blew the candles. Nonetheless, when he suddenly left sprinting on his bike she knew the gods would need time to grant her desire. Although, this time around she had faith.
She doesn’t know how long it would take for it to break, though. September getting closer and closer only means that Jeongguk’s birthday is just around the corner. As part of his friend group, she had been involved in the process that led to organising the surprise camping trip, even if she didn’t exactly participate. After all, she doesn’t get to say she knows the boy better than anyone, anymore. Jeongguk has evidently changed, and as a consequence she knows way less about him than the others.
For that exact reason, Eunbi had made various attempts to back down from the trip, fearing her presence could significantly ruin it for the celebrated boy. At first, she tried to be casual about it with Dahye, since she’s the only one she’s opened up to about the whole dilemma, “I think it’s better if I don’t come. After all, it’s a friend trip. I’m not really his friend.” To which her roommate only replied with bullshit, proceeding to type away on her keyboard. That did not help whatsoever.
Then, the night she was too tipsy to take a taxi back home and Jeongguk had offered her a ride on his bike, she came home with a smile on her face only to burst out crying in front of a just as drunk Dahye. In between sobs, she begged to be left out of the trip, “Ple- Please, Dahye. He hates me. I can’t stand it.” Her friend tried to shush her whines, pushing Eunbi’s head on her chest and consoling her, “He doesn’t, baby. I’m sure he doesn’t.”
As a result of that night, Dahye had then sat her friend down with the intent of fully convincing her to be present for Jeongguk’s birthday trip for a number of reasons, “It would be rude to not show up after he was there for your birthday. And also, what if you two end up talking about… things! And everything gets solved! That would be nice, wouldn’t it, Bibi?”
Eunbi had just nodded all the way through the motivating speech, not really understanding nor believing her words, but apparently they were enough to lead her to the present moment: awkwardly squished between Dahye and Jimin on the couch of her flat, while they animatedly converse with the others to approve on the trip schedule. She has never felt so out of place before, not only because she doesn’t feel like she has a say in the whole discussion, but also because as time went by the two friends by her side kept shifting to subtly get closer to one another, not realising they were compressing her body in the process. To the point she is forced to get up, the position she was in being too uncomfortable, and sit on the ground under the couch next to Namjoon.
She can feel her movements being followed by a pair of curious eyes, and when she looks up to meet them, she finds out they belong to the origin of all her worries. Before Jeongguk can divert his attention elsewhere, aware he was caught observing, she gives him a quick tight lipped smile. It goes dismissed, as if it hadn’t happened. Ouch. It’s okay, Eunbi can take it. She used the few days prior to this to mentally prepare. She knows she’s not exactly welcomed anywhere near him, that’s why she made a silent secret pact within herself: whatever happens during the trip, don’t be a bother to Jeongguk. Stay away from him as much as possible, and if not possible, then do anything to avoid putting that frown on his face, exactly the one he’s sporting right now. On a second thought, if just looking at her gets him to react like that, maybe it’s best to mentally wipe that off her list of things to keep in mind for Jeongguk’s birthday camping trip.
With there still being a day left before their minibreak takes off, the girl can already tell it’s going to be hard to follow the flow of that list, Jeongguk making it obvious her presence could have been avoided before the vacation has even started. Still, she remains composed and brushes off what had just happened, instead focusing on the main topic of conversation.
The group (Hoseok) has decided to meet to go over the schedule one last time because, “Everything needs to be perfect, guys. We can’t afford to slip!” It’s still Hoseok talking. Eunbi learned that he had always been the one in charge of organising events and little getaways when it came to the friend group, his obsession with keeping everything under control coming in handy in such scenarios.
Not only that, but the reddish haired guy is also amazingly quick on his feet, and in a relatively short amount of time he has managed to find the perfect excursions and experiences to go over during the trip, making sure every day spent together would be filled with fun activities that he knows the birthday boy is going to look forward to. In between what he has arranged there is cycling, canoeing, trekking, and more stuff that Eunbi can’t keep up with. Surviving this is going to be made ten times harder by the amount of energy that is going to be expected out of her. She sighs at the thought, looking down at her manicured nails. She just got them done, and now they would surely break.
It takes a few seconds for her to realise the sudden silence that fell above the room, and when she looks back up she’s met with eleven pairs of eyes staring at her. She straightens her posture, suddenly too aware of being perceived, and she deduces her previous exhale had been released with more energy than intended. Hoseok sweetly smiles at her, “Anything you don’t agree on, Eunbi?”
The panicked girl opens her mouth to justify herself, her eyes getting wider and shinier with embarrassment, but Dahye beats her to it, “Bibi, didn’t you say you, like, hate cycling? I’m sure we had a whole conversation about it.“
Eunbi is mortified. Her eyes jump from Dahye to Jeongguk, trying to get her best friend to shut up while also registering the boy’s scoff and muted roll of his eyes. Oh god. Her whole be-lowkey-and-make-yourself-unnoticed plan just shattered in a matter of seconds. She can feel Jeongguk’s eyes bore flaming holes into her skull, his arms crossed and his legs furtherly stretching out on the armchair. If she still had a small, tiny hope left that he didn’t fully hate her, she just witnessed that shattering in pieces too.
She quickly shifts to sit on her heels, her hands frantically shaking to try and save her face for what she could, “No, what? I love cycling. Seriously, I’d do it everyday if I could.” She chuckles shakily while subtly shoving Dahye’s knee next to her to signal going with the lie. At first, Dahye looks clearly confused: she was so sure of that information about her roommate. She furrows her brows, looking down at a panicky Eunbi widening her eyes. It takes only a few more seconds for her to suddenly get it, shaking herself from her doubts and catching the ball, “Oh, right! You do! I got it confused with, huh… something else.” The girl mutters that last part only to join her friend in a nervous laugh, and an apologetic smile. Best believe Dahye is going to hear about this later.
Hoseok looks just as puzzled as the others, but nonetheless he nods, announcing the schedule has been officially confirmed. A collective acclaim fills the room, only for the boy to stop it with a raise of his pointer finger, “Now, I will assign you guys in your respective cars.” Which is comically followed by a joint groan, and some protests. Hoseok ignores them, and goes on reading off his perfectly planned out Word document.
”Namjoon is the first driver, and he’s travelling with Iseul, Seokjin and Sora,” he looks up to briefly check with the mentioned members to see if there are any complaints, then proceeds. “We’ve got Yoongi with me, Aera and Taehyung. Then…” Hoseok squints his eyes while scrolling down the document, and those few seconds of silence are enough for Eunbi’s thoughts to anticipate what is about to follow. She lowers her head, unwilling to meet Jeongguk’s glare when Hoseok says, “Jeongguk is driving with Jimin, Dahye and Eunbi. All set?”
The positive response is quick, even too rushed and disregardful of what was said, as Namjoon and Taehyung have been impatiently begging for the never-ending organising to be over so they could order food and finally fill their starved stomachs. No one pays any mind to it, but Eunbi and Jeongguk stay quiet, while Jimin and Dahye share a knowing look. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.
The evening is spent in the cramped living room of Eunbi and Dahye’s shared flat, eating pizza and letting a random movie play, which soon only functioned as a background noise the moment Taehyung started a game of Would You Rather. Even if Yoongi initially shushed him, everyone eventually became more delighted with Seokjin’s unthinkable suggestions than with the film, “Would you rather be trapped in a small room with 10,000 tarantulas for 10 minutes, or eat 10 tarantulas in 10 minutes?”
Eunbi tries to let herself be distracted by the content smiles on her friends’ faces, even feels less distressed when she notices Jeongguk relaxing as well, but that doesn’t stop her mind from overflowing with all the things that could potentially go wrong. It inevitably shows on her face, and in her unusual quietness. She has been pondering on the last information Hoseok had shared about the confirmed schedule for hours now, worrying it was going to start the trip on the wrong foot. There were all the best intentions to not poke the sleeping bear, but she fears being in the same car as him is going to stir him awake.
After the group leaves the apartment at past 1 a.m., Hoseok checking with everyone that they’ll show up at 8 sharp tomorrow morning in front of the same building they’re now parting ways from, Eunbi releases a long sigh as she closes the door behind her shoulders. Dahye catches the look on her features immediately, taking her pretty face in between her palms, “I’m sorry for earlier. I was trying to help.” She pouts, and it makes the shorter girl chuckle.
Eunbi shakes her head, dismissing her apology with a small it’s okay, and freeing herself from her friend’s hold so as to avoid meeting her eyes, instead busying herself with tidying up the mess in the living room. Her flatmate looks at the strangely silent girl narrowly, “What are you thinking? Please, don’t let it be something stupid like I don’t wanna drive in Jeongguk’s car.”
When all Dahye is met with is silence, she knows that specific something stupid is flowing in the other girl’s head. Eunbi spends the next hour packing and letting Dahye think she’s wholly convincing her distressed roommate nothing could go wrong from just being close to each other, and if anything, it could be a starting point.
For the sake of getting at least three hours of sleep before the long drive ahead, Eunbi fake promises her friend that she won’t let such thoughts haunt her mind and stop her from enjoying the holiday (she was forced to repeat those exact words) knowing she’s going to let them do precisely that. She also ends up staying awake all night either way, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse that she can use to ask Hoseok if a small change would be possible, hoping it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle to him and his perfect plan.
When the following morning rolls around, the group gathers in the courtyard of the flat complex as instructed hours earlier by Hoseok, who looks like he’s on the verge of a serious crisis when it’s one minute past 8 a.m. and Taehyung still hasn’t shown up. Eunbi fears for her life when she taps his shoulder as delicately as she can, still unable to avoid a jumpy reaction from the boy, who then relaxes when he sees the girl’s sweet smile. That lasts for about one second, because when Eunbi softly asks him if they can talk he’s back to puffing out panicky breaths.
She hesitates a moment before uttering in one single exhale, “I’d rather not go in Jeongguk’s car.” Faced with Hoseok’s perplexed stare, she goes on explaining in a rushed, messy speech, “It’s nothing personal, really. It’s just- Iseul! Yeah, Iseul begged me to be in the car with Dahye… She doesn’t know Sora that well so she said it would be way too awkward. I can go with Namjoon!” She ends it by trying to sport a convincing grin on her lips, but with the way it looks like she’s being held at gunpoint to smile it’s doing the exact opposite, not helping in hiding her own panic at all.
Hoseok takes a few seconds to process her request and read her expression, but in the end he just shrugs and nods enthusiastically, “That’s okay!” He then claps his hands twice, recalling the others’ attention who comically snap their heads in unison, hanging on the boss’ lips, “Tiny change. Eunbi doesn’t wanna be in Jeongguk’s car, so she’s going with Namjoon.”
For the second time in under 24 hours, Eunbi is so embarrassed she prays the ground to swallow her whole. Hoseok doesn’t seem to be making a big deal out of the way he worded his announcement, busy typing away on his phone, probably updating his Word document with the recent change. The others don’t look too fazed either, accustomed with the two infamously not being too fond of each other for no apparent reason, except for Dahye and Jimin: the former is looking at the girl incredulously; the latter has shifted his attention to his best friend.
Eunbi can feel cold sweat dripping down her forehead, the weight of the world crushing on her shoulders. She’s afraid to follow Jimin’s line of vision, but as she slowly does, it leads her to meet Jeongguk’s intense gaze, a slight pissed scowl hardening his features along with his brows almost meeting at the bridge of his nose. His all black attire composed of an oversized t-shirt, cargo bermuda shorts and chunky sandals matches perfectly with the look on his face. He seems confused, and unnerved. And sad? This is not how things were supposed to unfold.
Under such pressure, the girl impulsively releases a nervous laugh, her whole face red with awkwardness, “It’s not like I didn’t- Okay! I’ll just go wait in the car.” Her head hangs as she distances herself from the group, finding an escape from Jeongguk’s disappointment in Namjoon’s car. She bangs her head on the dashboard a few times, making the most of the last minutes alone she’s getting before departure.
Starring in that shitshow was not on her list of things to keep in mind for Jeongguk’s birthday camping trip in any way. On the contrary, what she has been trying to do is going by the rules of the list itself: stay away from Jeongguk and don’t be a bother. Instead, the opposite seems to be happening every time she attempts to be nice to him so as to not be a hassle during the trip. Releasing a shaky breath, she hopes her intentions wouldn’t be misinterpreted by the boy, as she tries foolishly convincing herself the telepathy between them still exists, at least to a small extent. She was only doing this for him. To make it easier for him. Please, please send this telepathic message to Jeongguk.
Connection probably isn’t working too well, because when they all get to the destination after a fairly long ride, Jeongguk still looks pissed, shutting the car door with more energy than required and unloading the luggages, taking his and Iseul’s to the entrance of the camping site. Eunbi narrows her eyes as she observes the scene, the short haired girl thanking the previously annoyed boy and effortlessly putting a smile on his lips, and she almost doesn’t notice Namjoon urging her to move. She abruptly shakes herself out of that trance, relaxing her hands that had subconsciously closed into fists, and takes her bags out of the car. As she clumsily drags them on both of her shoulders, her Converses do little to protect her soles from the rocky ground, and she groans. It’s not like she was expecting Namjoon to carry her baggage, she can do it herself. But as she keeps watching Jeongguk easily handling all that weight, she huffs.
The campsite looks amazing. The space that the group has at their disposal is huge and wholly surrounded by nature, making it the perfect getaway from the chaos of the city. Not too far, in between trees, a glimpse of the sun reflecting its rays in a large lake can be caught. Eunbi witnesses an excellently carried out jam session, with the lively enthusiasm of her friends on microphone, birds on percussion and cicadas on bass. She smiles, and sighs contentedly. Dahye’s words from last night echo in her head, don’t let this stop you from enjoying the holiday, and today she wants to believe them. She’s glad she chose to wear jeans shorts instead of cargos, the heat slowly but surely rising, and a flowy white top that keeps her fresh, for now.
Hoseok instructs them to get to work, and they do. All their bags are gathered under a big ancient tree as each couple and trio starts (tries) setting their tents. While they’re busy figuring out how to ensure the tent won’t fly away, which Taehyung fears particularly, Jimin and Jeongguk offer themselves to go and fill everyone’s water flask at a nearby drinking fountain they had found. Eunbi kneels down to fish hers out of a blue backpack and goes to hand it out to Jeongguk, who’s collecting Dahye’s bottle. The boy smiles at her friend, but it gets wiped off when he shifts his gaze on Eunbi’s shorter figure. The moment is brief, and awkward: her big unsure eyes stare into his hardened ones, arm extended out to him, wondering if there might be something funny on her face for him to turn so serious; she hesitantly lifts her brows, waiting for something; Jeongguk looks her up and down, only to not acknowledge her water flask, and just walks past her.
Eunbi is dumbfounded, the tip of her ears reddening as she remains paralysed with her hand out, even after Jimin collects her flask, muttering something close to Don’t mind him, please accompanied by an apologetic smile. She regains consciousness of her surroundings only when, beside her, Dahye can’t help the snort coming out of her mouth, trying but failing to save it with her hand. The still shocked girl slowly turns to face her amused friend, mouth slightly agape and left eye clearly twitching, “Did he just… act as if I don’t exist.”
The situation shouldn’t be funny, but to Dahye it’s the peak of comedy as she keeps giggling the more the slow realisation of what has just happened shows on Eunbi’s features. Obviously, the latter can’t find one single reason to laugh about it, whining while the taller girl pats her shoulder, still smiling, “You really need to talk to him.”
The targeted girl ignores that, biting her nails nervously, ”Was he saying anything about… me, in the car?”
Dahye lifts her brows, shaking her head, ”Nothing. He’s probably talking shit about you with Jimin, though.” Eunbi follows her pointed finger and catches Jeongguk animatedly discussing with his flatmate, balancing the bottles in his arms, before they turn a corner. Eunbi fusses, lightly tugging on her braided pigtails, and she feels helpless as even the friend who’s supposed to be supporting her through all of this is chuckling at her. Despite being shorter, when Eunbi shoves Dahye’s shoulder she manages to make her stumble, but that doesn’t stop her laughs, though.
”You’re building the tent on your own.” Arms crossed and pout on, Eunbi isn’t joking as she goes to sit under the tree surrounded by bags and ignores her name being called out. Rather than reacting to it, she spots tiny bugs between the grass and inspects them for a while, pretending it keeps her distracted from what’s plaguing her mind. Soon after, with her knees to her chest, watching those ants working to transfer food from one side to the other inevitably gets her lost in her thoughts. What is she doing wrong? There’s clearly unresolved problems between her and the boy who brutally ignored her existence minutes ago, but she thought maybe if she started seeking for truce, then he would too. His response, instead, makes her realise no matter how much she tries, it’s apparently not enough to mend what happened all those years ago. She messed up worse than imagined.
The constant pondering makes her lose track of time, and she comes back to reality with undesired outcomes that she convinces herself to be true. When she recovers from the (as she has deduced, deserved) humiliation, Dahye has already set up half of the tent and Eunbi walks over to her bashfully, “Sorry for being childish. I’ll finish this, Hye.” The girl just smiles softly and nods, sending her a flying kiss that makes Eunbi chuckle before taking her previous spot under the tree. At least Dahye doesn’t hate her.
It takes her a while to figure out what to do but she soon grasps how hard a seemingly simple task can be, feeling bad for letting Dahye do a great part of it on her own. Still, she needs to work fast as lunch time is approaching, and everybody around her is almost finished. She has been crouching on a particular spot on the ground for a while now, trying to properly secure an angle of the tent unsuccessfully. Until she groans exasperated, puffing her hair out of her vision and lifting her body up to find a solution. She tries stomping on it a few times, but it doesn’t work, and if anything it worsens the situation. Huffing out, with her hands on her hips she looks around for help, and the first person her eyes fall on is Jeongguk.
He was already staring at her, comfortably sitting on a deckchair with his legs spread and sunglasses on. His tent looks perfectly set already, with Jimin seemingly fixing the inside of it. His hand is covering his mouth before he uses it to lift his glasses over his head, and is that a smirk? They both stare at each other in silence, Eunbi still struggling to breathe, and she hesitates slightly until her eagerness to be over with the tent becomes stronger. She speaks up to make herself heard over the small distance, “Can you- help me?”
Jeongguk narrows her eyes at her, initially not answering but not even moving from his relaxed position. The girl is ready to be met with silence again, but it’s something worse when he opens his mouth, “I think Namjoon would be happy to do that.” He’s as stern as ever as he returns the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, furtherly spreading his whole body on the chair and facing the sun. Only then, he releases a content sigh, smiling slightly.
All of this cannot be real. What does that even mean? Eunbi can feel her eye start to twitch again and she needs to clench her jaw to stop it. It’s okay. Breathe. She unexpectedly but successfully manages to hold herself from exploding on him, both overwhelmed with tent building and frustrated with his behaviour. She can’t really decipher what led him to not only act cold, as he usually is with her, which is fine, but also mean! But no problem, she’ll try once again. It costs nothing to be nice. And she tells herself she’ll stay that way, even if she’s met with the opposite, until he breaks.
The storm of negative emotions tormenting her thoughts can be distortedly seen as a good thing on one side, if she considers that the sudden adrenaline flowing in her body gets her through most of the task without any help, even mindlessly, while she keeps reflecting on the interaction and the previous ones. Why the fuck would Namjoon be happy to help her? Well, he would, he’s naturally a helper, but why did Jeongguk say that? Is he really that pissed about her going in his car? She tries to understand, she really does. Keep being nice is what she tells herself instead.
When the tent is finally up, only with Dahye’s finishing touches, and food is finally in her stomach, refilling her energy tank, it’s like there’s a switch going off in her head, making it seem as if nothing bad has ever happened. Eunbi is back to her talkative self with a full tummy and a bashful grin while her best friend teases her for the earlier tantrum she went on about, but at least it’s all smiles again.
The first day at the campsite is spent basking in the slowness that follows after ticking off the only two activities planned for today on Hoseok’s schedule: setting their tents and preparing meals for lunch and dinner. The boss then instructs the group on just getting acquainted with their surroundings, and they don’t need to be told twice, making the most out of those short remaining moments of ease.
The rest of those hours are used to laze by the huge lake, in between swims and sunbathes. Luckily, Eunbi had packed a few bikinis and she chose to wear a black set, its laces meeting at the back with a bow. Sitting back and taking it easy, before all that she will be faced with the next few days, gives her a chance to get closer to the others. During the earlier drive, she had the opportunity to chat with Sora and discover the sweetheart she truly is, and the car was then easily filled with laughter, mostly provided by Namjoon and Seokjin’s terrible jokes. She now sits by Sora on a beach towel, all the other girls in a circle catching up and laying by the sun. In the back of their gossip session, the boys could be heard laughing and squealing, and the sound reminded Eunbi of sweet childhood. She briefly shifts her attention to them and smiles when she observes how they’re doing the most to tire their energy out, from using a rope hanging by the branch of a tree to leap into the water, to initiating a volleyball match using one of their rolled up towels.
Eunbi grows even fonder than before of the people she’s surrounded with, the earlier stress leaving her body and being replaced by serenity, a small sigh released from her lips before she returns to listen to the girls’ chat. She laughs at something Dahye says and jumps on it excitedly, making the others chuckle at the two friends eagerly recounting one of their craziest uni experiences so far.
All of it is short lived when Taehyung and Jimin suddenly drop a water balloon over their heads, a collective gasp filling the space followed by the two boys’ childish giggles and Dahye’s screams, getting up to run after them. They all spend the rest of the afternoon trying to get back at each other with more pranks, bathing in the lake’s cold water and taking silly group pictures to seal the day. As the sun begins to set, they all sit on their towels and silently observe nature, definitely too tired to speak, and preferring to savour the sweet moment.
When the sun finally leaves its place for the moon to rise and the group of friends gets back to their tents, their stomachs growling signal it’s time for dinner. They take turns to shower using the nearby public structure and then help setting a campfire to cook. It also works as a very needed source of heat, given the temperature has significantly dropped and their bodies are still humid from washing up. Eunbi wears the grey cargos she had discarded earlier this morning when deciding on what to put on, and a white tee, her damp hair falling on her shoulders and making her feel slightly chilly. She comes up beside Yoongi to help him with the meat, benefiting from the warmth of the fire.
There’s not much talk between the two, only the older boy advising her to be careful of the flames every two minutes, but it’s comfortable. Eunbi still has a hard time reading through Yoongi, and maybe it’s what she enjoys the most about him: his aura is soothing and it exudes security. He doesn’t exactly show it, but he’s deeply attentive and caring of his friends, and the girl feels safe next to him. She can sense him looking over at her while the meat is cooking, and as she turns to him she meets his eyes with a smile. He ponders, scanning her face “You got sunburnt. You need to wear sunscreen tomorrow, or it’ll get worse.”
Eunbi chuckles, dragging her pointer finger up and down her red nose, “Yeah, I know. It kinda hurts but it looks like I have natural blush now!”
Yoongi shakes his head with a small amused scoff, “That’s stupid, Eunbi. Wait for me here, I’ll go get you an after-sun cream.” And even as he walks off, he reminds her to not stay too close to the fire. She thinks that’s an exact demonstration of what the boy is truly like in her head.
The girl keeps grilling the meat, humming unknown melodies under her breath, and she almost misses a broad figure sitting on one of the chairs surrounding the fire. When she looks up, it’s Jeongguk avoiding her eyes and instead staring at the flames, their light reflecting in his big orbs and making them shinier. He wears his bermudas from earlier, but he now has a grey Stussy hoodie on top of it. His locks are still wet after freshly coming out of a shower, and they curl on his forehead, making him look like a poodle. She smiles. It’s like 15 years old Jeongguk is there with her again, his bare, exhausted face and droopy eyes taking her back to Busan. Without even realising what she’s doing, she extends a cooked piece of meat his way, “You want some?”
Startled, the boy breaks from his spacing-out and registers the request. He looks between Eunbi and the meat, gulping. He licks his lips, and she swears she can also hear his stomach rumbling. When he keeps ogling the food without replying, she wiggles the fork and his eyes follow its every movement, as if hypnotised. Then, he suddenly screws his eyelids shut and breaks from the trance, simply shaking his head no and fishing his phone out of his pocket, mindlessly scrolling on it. Just like that, she’s back to the present, and Jeongguk hates her. Eunbi narrowly glares at him while he can’t see her.
Yoongi comes back soon after with two different creams in his hands, and he gives them to Eunbi with a chuckle. She thanks him and lets him take over the cooking, while she curiously inspects the products, still standing next to the fire. When Yoongi spots his younger friend on the chair, he asks the same exact question as her, forking a piece of meat, “You want some?”
Jeongguk’s attention is back up, this time on Yoongi, and when he sees what his hyung is referring to he eagerly nods. Eunbi interrupts her examination just in time to see the boy hungrily shoving the food in his mouth, brows furrowed and praising noises accompanying his munching, making the older friend by her side chuckle. Instead, the girl is once again in disbelief, even more as he watches Jeongguk patting his knee with force, satisfied with the bite, “Hyung, this shit is so good. I want more.”
Eunbi scoffs imperceptibly, leaving the scene with an annoyed scowl wrecking her pretty features. As she enters her tent, she’s glad Dahye is still showering as she makes the most of that isolating moment. She sighs wearily and whips out her phone. Using its camera, she tries to ignore her tumbling emotions and instead puts on the creams Yoongi had given her, but not even those are enough to distract her. She’s still incredulous at what she’s being put through, her patience wearing thin, and the pact she made with herself before coming here is dangerously close to being broken.
Dinner is spent with good food and even better people, and only then Eunbi visibly untenses again. In between bites and full mouths, they go from discussing random facts to casually engaging in games of Truth or Dare or Never Have I Ever, the beer bottles slowly being emptied while their tummies get filled. When they’re done eating, the relaxed smiles on their faces implicitly communicate how the meal has been the perfect ending to the lovely day spent together. Still, they stay by the fire and keep up an effortless chat. When one of them comments on the limpidity of the sky, its stars being perfectly visible in this zone of Seoul, they all look up and stare in silence at the fullness of the lights.
Even if it’s not too late, the weariness from being out in the sun for multiple consecutive hours is weightening down on most of them, Seokjin and Sora retiring to their tents, soon after being followed by Yoongi and Hoseok.
It’s a little past midnight, and Eunbi starts to feel more and more affected by the cool breeze, its effects showing on her prickled skin. She tries to warm herself up by rubbing her exposed arms with her hands, but it’s to no avail, “God, I’m so cold.”
A collective agreement follows her claim, with Iseul speaking up and curling herself into a ball on the deckchair she’s sitting on by taking her legs up to her chest and hugging them close, “Me too, it’s freezing.”
”Oh, I have a spare hoodie.” Both girls snap their heads at the voice, which belongs to Jeongguk. However, as he quickly gets up to retrieve the sweater from his tent, it’s not clear who between the two he’s referring to, their curious expectant eyes following his every movement. Eunbi has her reasons to feel so eager, given the fact that she has been begging for one nice interaction with the boy, a spark of hope lighting up in her chest at his offer. On the other hand, she doesn’t know why the other girl seems equally excited, twirling her short hair around her fingers as she waits for Jeongguk to come out of the tent again. She huffs, a pout ending on her features.
When the sought-after boy gets back with a blueish crewneck in his arms, both girls hold their breaths, the sudden tension going unnoticed by the others (except for Dahye, she’s like a psychic when it comes to her best friend’s emotions), until Jeongguk lays the piece of clothing on Iseul’s shoulders, coming behind her and then sitting on his chair again.
Iseul bashfully thanks him, the tips of her ears seemingly reddening while a sweet, alluring smile makes its way on her lips. Eunbi scoffs at that, and if looks could kill Iseul would be dead right now. The dirty look she sends her way luckily goes unnoticed, and she keeps hugging her own body trying to provide herself with warmth. When she shifts her attention to Jeongguk, he’s already looking at her, smirking. She can’t be convinced he isn’t doing all this on purpose.
Even with her teeth almost chattering, the neglected girl forces herself to stay with the others until the end, and with Namjoon and Taehyung retiring to sleep only six of them remain. Under a white full moon, the conversation doesn’t really follow a clear direction, steering from existential questions that none really have the answers to, to Jimin’s drunken adventures. Jeongguk giddily joins the recounting and adds many details to it, specifically highlighting the embarrassing parts that his roommate is trying to omit to save face, and making all of his friends laugh with their whole chest, Eunbi included. She simply can’t ignore the fact that he’s naturally charming, and hilarious as well. In the middle of his storytelling, his whole body gets involved and it makes the events seem even more impressive. Eunbi smiles when she compares the Jeongguk in front of her to the beloved one in her past, the one that would sit her down and force her to keep up with his running imagination, constantly up with new ideas for silly scripts.
Then it’s Dahye’s turn to share one of her experiences, and Eunbi inevitably gets thrown into the tale, which had seen the two friends drunkenly sneaking themselves into a concert. It’s like they’re perfectly mirroring Jimin and Jeongguk’s dynamic, because while Dahye is trying to leave out critical parts of the story, Eunbi strongly insists on specifying them with an unseen emphasis for 1 a.m., causing everybody to laugh along. In between chuckles, her eyes fall on Jeongguk, who is mindlessly scrolling on his phone and seemingly not paying attention. Throughout the recounting, she notices Jeongguk distractly listening but never laughing, and if he does it’s only after something said by Dahye. Slowly, the enthusiasm gets wiped off her face as she curls up on the chair, sulkily letting her friend finish telling the story.
Another hour of effortless conversation goes by, and Jeongguk is back to lively chatting again, his animated gestures and witty jokes getting laughter out of his friends, but this time Eunbi doesn’t join. She silently sets on observing the boy, despite being caught a few times. She really wants to understand the reason behind his behaviour, but there’s no factual explanation she can come up with other than the obvious reasons that put them in this situation in the first place. If that’s the case, there’s nothing much she can do other than going up to him and finally talking it out like the mature adults they should be, but with their petty, silent bickering she doesn’t think that’s happening any soon.
While she’s busy squinting her eyes at the boy, in a borderline creepy manner, she doesn’t notice Iseul crouching in half in laughter at something Jeongguk said, until she’s directly referring to her, “Oh god, Eunbi! Why did you never tell me Jeongguk was this funny?” Said girl is startled by the question and by the abrupt interruption that shakes her out of her trance, confusion written on her face and it must be evident with the way Iseul goes on explaining, “Dahye told me you’ve known him for a long time.”
All at once, the atmosphere is tense and maybe Iseul and Aera can’t feel it, but Dahye definitely can as she snaps her head to her friend, who’s staring directly into Jeongguk’s eyes. The two seem to be battling an unnamed war through eye contact, and the intensity of the boy’s gaze ignites something implacable in the girl’s chest, dangerously close to rage, and it has to do with all the feelings she’s had to bottle up in less than 24 hours. She scoffs, referring to Iseul but never breaking the staring contest with the boy, “Oh, is he? Don’t think I’m well acquainted with that side of him yet.”
If the tension wasn’t palpable to everyone before the comment, it surely is now, the only ones that have something left to say being the crickets and owls in the background. Jeongguk only snickers before washing a hand over his face, an unsettling smirk on his lips. He seems to finally acknowledge the other girl’s presence, but it’s not in the way Eunbi initially imagined it would go. Instead, it’s venom spitting out of his mouth, “You would've been if you weren’t so self centred, always wrapped in your own bubble all the fucking time.”
Eunbi's confidence falls as quick as her heart, a sudden force weighing on it and almost crushing it. She’s fast at hiding it, ignoring the slight sting she can sense in the back of her eyelids, her only goal is to shoot harder. She forces the fakest smile she can muster, “Self centred? Are you sure you're talking about me?” The affronted girl scoffs, loud and sarcastic, “Fuck, and I thought you'd know better than that, Jeongguk. You should try getting your head out of your ass and look around. Maybe you'd see how shitty you've been treating all of us-” me “-for these past weeks.”
Jeongguk is visibly taken aback, and it’s his heart falling this time, his face following suit. His broken features do little to hide the doubts plaguing his spiralling mind. Had he pushed it too far? Had he been actually so bad to his own friends? Seeing his contender’s face relaxing with victory makes him snap out of the sudden trance, as he regains consciousness fast. No, he hasn’t. Fuck this. Blinded by anger, he utters the unimaginable, “Speak for yourself when you say shit like that. As far as I'm concerned, I've been treating you fairly seeing the bitch you are.”
His eyes are as pitch as black, the stars in them that Eunbi would love to get lost into are unreachable now, almost as if a dark cloud had obscured them. It must be the pollution that's taking over his heart too.
She’s frozen in place as the cruel words echo in her mind, the force that was keeping her heart underwater had managed to crush it, and it was now coming up her throat, squeezing the air out of her lungs. Her ears ring with the sudden lack of oxygen, and she can only faintly hear Dahye’s raging comments coming in her defence against Jeongguk. She can only seem to focus on the cracking of the fire, though, its thumping noise suddenly unbearable, as she feels more and more engulfed in its flames. She forces all sounds to come back to her, strongly pulling herself out of her own plagued head, the boy in front of her now unrecognisable to her empty eyes.
Looking around, she notices all of her friends — his, after all — had gone extremely quiet, the pressure weighing on them too. She can't stand it, needs to get out. She wishes she had never agreed to this. So much for keeping her peace. Yet, she'll never give him the satisfaction of knowing how much that hurt her. She'll die before crying in front of him.
“Well, if you don't mind, the bitch has had enough now, so with all due respect, she's going to sleep.” With a forced tight lipped smile, she gets up in one fast movement and walks to her tent, leaving the others disoriented, and a still furious Dahye scoffing at Jeongguk. He follows her with his eyes until she disappears in her shelter, clenching his jaw and announcing his departure soon after.
Inside the tent, Eunbi takes several deep breaths trying to calm down, and she feels frail when she can sense her eyes prickle with tears. She tells herself it’s angry ones. Apparently, being nice isn’t enough, and she watches as the seal to her pact shatters with force, signalling no come back. Following suit, the puzzle breaks once again, and she’s left scrambling for the pieces falling, looking for the one that will start it over again. And this time, it’s going to be even harder.
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invisiblequeen · 2 months ago
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Didn't even know this existed until one of my faves posted...
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@pamsimmerstories : I've been obsessed with their landgraab gen 2 story since i stumbled upon it a couple of months ago. I'm constantly checking for updates and the one day I don't is when they upload a whole handful of posts! But I've been with them since this one couple I won't name was in teenager mode, and now that couple has three darn kids and one of them is already in child mode. I'm not ready to see time move on! I'm not ready to see their parents meet the grim reaper! I've gotten too attached!
@samssims : Yes, my contestant for the Mildred BC didn't stay long, but I love the concept of a Challenge like this for an elder sim who used to be a star back in the day looking for love after two divorces. I'm eager to see who wins!
@lindyloosims : Let's just say I'm lovestruck over luka, his personality, his rosy cheeks, his quirks and his interactions with the contestants here to win his heart. Lindyloo is great with the dialogue and narration--it keeps me engaged as hell. Also her simself is the host of the BC and I just love that detail!
@saruin : One of the first cc creators I found when i discovered cc at all. Her creativity knows no bounds, and the presets she's created have helped expand my own creativity when it comes to making sims. More often than not you'll find at least one thing of hers in any post I make. Hell, she made a set of teeth with color swatches for the TONGUE. How can I not "stan?"
@cinamun : Things Fall Apart, but not my commitment to this woman's story. I wasn't there when it first started all those years ago, but dammit, i'm here now (since dira's graduation arc) and i'm not going anywhere. From the dialogue, to the characters, to the style of shots themselves, she literally has me in a chokehold. And she's the one who was wheezing and screaming over Kendrick performing Not Like Us fifty times on Juneteenth! If that doesn't cement her as an icon IDK what does! (ironic that hers was the first tumblr faves post I saw that led to my own lol)
@cawthorntales : You all know I live for BC challenges. This man right here never, ever, EVER stops delivering on those. EVER. He always has an established storyline for the character he provides us to make a sim for, as well as a funny dialogue between said sim and the "cameraman" to start it off. I need for more people to know who he is so we can get MORE contestant for his challenges so I can witness MORE of my sims in his gameplay!!!
@akitasimblr : Found her during the Dreadful BC Challenge and haven't looked back since. She is VERY serious about this gameplay BC Challenge business. She gives you CLIPS formatted as live streams with "chat" on the side reacting to what they see. She has a leaderboard with a system to rank all contestants on friendship and romance and etc. And she's currently doing a crossover of the bachelor and SURVIVOR! go check it out!
@novapark : This one right here is a COZY Bachelor Challenge gameplay. Their shots are so deliciously saturated and warmly lit that it makes me wanna get a cup of tea and a snuggie to watch it. I like the style of a narrator popping in to watch all the ways Izan (the bachelor) wins and fails with his contestants (sims are so weird when it comes to their mood switch-ups i swear). And yours truly has a sim in there, too, so that's an added benefit for me, but just off the way they shot this challenge I'd still be checking it out regardless!
@jayveesim : You. YOUUUUUUUUUU. You have ruined me. You have ensared me. You have cost me my former life before I knew of your gameplay. You and that DAMNED BLAKE PARSONS! You've snatched my wig. You've dragged me across the floor by my eyelashes. You've scorched my edges! I have rarely been so fired up and passionate about a pixel baby the way I have been about YOURS and their DECISIONS! I won't even try to explain it to y'all, you gotta go check it out yourselves, and then we can scream about it together in this evil genius's comment section! LMFAO
This is a great chance for us all to big up fellow simblrs, so I hope to see more of these posts!
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wisedelusionalmarshmallow · 5 months ago
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@jegulus-microfic, June 28th - Lawyer, G, Word Count - 740
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To the surprise of everyone they knew, James and Lily got divorced three years into their marriage. It was a shared decision and they both ended on amicable terms but everyone kept asking them how it ended? The reason was quite simple, and a little silly honestly. They were better friends. James thought that what he felt was romantic, but it really was just platonic.
Of course, this discovery came after the birth of their son, Harry. So now the both of them had to meet at the courthouse to file for shared custody. It wasn't going to be hard to do, they were both going to co-parent, they just needed the paperwork to show it.
The three of them were currently in their lawyer's office. Harry sat on Lily's lap while her and James keep civil conversation, waiting on Mr Black to show up.
When he does, mere moments later. James is glad he is a newly single man.
Mr Black has short, neatly styled black hair and a properly tailored suit on. James doesn't think he's ever found anyone as attractive before.
"Sorry for my tardiness. I assume I'm speaking with James and Lily Potter, correct?" Mr Black starts, placing a bag behind his desk and taking a seat.
Lily takes charge of the conversation, like she does the majority of the time. James doesn't mind though, it gives him more time to gawk at their lawyer. "That is us, although I've recently changed back to my maiden name, Evans."
James notices the slight crease in the lawyer's brow as he files through a bit of paperwork left on his desk. Clearly confused about the name change. He pulls out a document to examine closer. "I see, that was only finalized this morning, my apologies Ms Evans."
"Don't even worry about it." Lily has one of her signature warm smiles on her face.
Mr Black clears his throat before continuing to file through a little paperwork. "You two are here to file for custody over your son, correct?" Said son is still sleeping against Lily's chest.
She nods. James mainly tunes out the rest of the conversation. Lily's more knowledgeable about these things. Plus, the mother's opinion is always favoured over the father's.
With his silence, James is given an opportunity to continue studying the man in front of him. He's got a few freckles on the sides of his face, and grey eyes that James wants to get lost in. He's leaning on his elbows listening to Lily speak, looking at her like she's the most important person in the world. James wants to be looked at like that, wants all of Mr Black's attention on him and him only.
Lily clears her throat from across the room and gives James a pointed look. Did he miss something?
"Excuse me?" he asks.
"Are you available to come in tomorrow Mr Potter?" Mr Black asks. If he's annoyed he clearly doesn't show it.
James looks up to answer and is hit with the same look Mr Black was giving Lily only moments prior. James swears his heart stopped for that split second. "Uh, um. Well, yes. No plans." Good god kill him now.
Mr Black shoots him a small smile James is sure is out of pity before looking back over to Lily. The rest of the meeting passed by in a blur, James had tuned out again. Not even sure if he spelt his name right on the paperwork.
When the four of them all leave the office. Harry has woken up and Lily's holding his hand to prevent him from running off.
"You're all set, just come back in any time tomorrow to pick up the paperwork." Lily thanks him and starts to walk off, making sure Harry is following her.
James looks back up to Mr Black and is about to say his thanks when the lawyer stretches out his hand, holding something out for James. When he grabs it, he realizes it's a business card, Regulus Black. He looks back up, confused.
"My personal number. You have a bit of a staring problem, did you know that?" Regulus raises an eyebrow in an almost teasing way.
In an instant, James can feel his entire face heat up. "Yes, thanks."
He nearly runs to where Lily and Harry are with the biggest smile on his face. She is one of his best friends after all.
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thatztyv · 1 year ago
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Since Been
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Description:
- Kordei and Oakley high school days
Word Count:
- 1.8k
Kᴏʀᴅᴇɪ Cᴏʀsᴏ
(core-dee-uh core-so)
"Girl if you don't stop looking at that boy", Remi said hitting my leg and making us all laugh.
"KC you still staring at that white boy?", Liyah asked after taking a sip from her water.
"First off he ain't no regular white boy", I said rolling my eyes.
"He's a white boy with an accent", Kass said sarcastically.
"I don't care what y'all say. That boy is fine", I said while opening my juice box.
"I always knew you liked white boys", Remi said while eating her tangerines.
"It's something about them", I said making Liyah laugh.
"Something like what?", she asked.
"I don't know but they make my lil cooter jump", I said almost making Remi scream.
People started looking at us.
"Y'all need to stop being loud", I whispered.
"You one to talk about somebody being loud. Don't act like you wasn't just screaming west side in the hallway as if you Tupac or somebody", Liyah said.
.✿.
"Alright everyone. Today is the day that we've all anticipated for in this class-", Ms. Walker started.
"Graduation today?", someone asked.
"Mane I wish BK", someone else chuckled.
"Well it's not graduation night", Ms. Walker chuckled. "Today we start the baby project. I have already picked partners for everyone. So when I call your name please come to the front."
After forever she finally called my name.
"Kordei Corso and... Oakley Caesar-Su", she said.
I walked up to her desk, along with Oakley.
"Baby name ?", she asked.
I looked at Oakley and he shrugged his shoulders.
"Tiana?", I asked.
"That's fine."
"First T name today", she said as she wrote it down beside our names on a piece of paper. "Take care of her."
She handed me the baby and gave Oakley the baby bag.
"Oh shit", I said when it started moving in my arms.
Ms.Walker arched a brow at me.
"My bad Ms.Walker", I chuckled.
"Okay now that everyone one has a baby", Ms.Walker started as me and Oakley walked to our seats. "You're all free to be single, divorced, or married parents. As long as the baby is cared for and healthy when it's time to turn them in then hey. See you all tomorrow!"
The dismissal bell rung and everyone jumped up, rushing out the class.
.✿.
(It's the next day and they're in the library by the way)
"Who did your hair KC?", Liyah said as she ran her fingers through my hair.
"I did and girl you know better than anyone not to just run your fingers through my hair", I said playfully rolling my eyes.
"Wait Kordei?!", Kass gasped pulling on my jacket collar. "What the hell is this on your neck?"
She pushed my hair behind my shoulder. I just suppressed a smile as I rocked Tiana side to side.
"Girl who been sucking on your neck?", Remi asked.
"Y'all gone make me drop my baby", I chuckled.
"Fuck that baby", Remi said reaching over the table and trying to slap her out of my arms. "Stop beating round the bush bitch."
"Tell us his name and give us the details", Liyah said.
"Well..", I sighed before Oakley approached our table.
"Hey KC, you think I can get Tiana? I'm going to Mr. B's class, and he said he'd give us extra credit if we were taking care of the babies", he said, unaware that Remi, Liyah, and Kass were staring him down.
"Sure", I said with a smile and stood up.
I gently handed her to him.
"Please don't drop her. She will literally scream and won't stop unless Ms. Walker deactivates it", I said reaching down and grabbing the pink baby bag off the floor.
"I won't", he chuckled while I put the bag over his shoulder.
"See you in sixth period", he said but more so asked.
"Yeah, take care of her", I said and squinted my eyes at him.
"Don't worry I will", he chuckled before walking off.
I sat back down and all three of them were staring at me.
"What?", I laughed.
"Was that white boy sucking on yo neck?", Remi asked before crossing her arms.
"Since y'all wanna know so bad", I said and playfully rolled my eyes. "Yes, Oakley was the one who gave me the hickeys."
"Oh my lawd", Kass said falling out of her seat.
"Jesus help us", Liyah said throwing her arms in the air.
"I would rather- I would rather go blind boy", Remi sang while shaking her head.
I laughed at them and rolled my eyes. "Y'all do the most."
"Did you enjoy it?", Kass asked sitting up.
"Yes ma'am I did", I said and nodded my head.
"Oh my lawd", she said again, throwing her arms up and laying back on the floor.
"I hate y'all", I chuckled after they calmed down and Kass got back in her seat.
"So how it all happen?", Remi asked.
"I was just over at his house so we could take care of the baby together...."
"Oakley I need a bottle!", I said as I rocked her side to side as she cried.
"I'm trying, I'm trying", he said and accidentally dropped the top on the floor. "Shit."
"You can't just pull a titty out and let her suck it", he joked as he picked the top up and rinsed it off.
"One, she's not an actual baby and two, ain't no milk in these titties."
He chuckled as he finally walked over to me with the fixed bottle.
"Thanks."
I put the teat in her mouth and she immediately started drinking it.
"God knows I wouldn't be able to handle a real baby", I sighed.
Oakley chuckled as he went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water.
"You spending the night?", he asked drinking his water and leaning against the counter.
I looked up at him and saw he had a smirk on his face.
"Your brothers home? I haven't seen them in a while?", I asked changing the topic.
He chuckled before answering. "Nah, my mom took them to visit our Nana for the week."
"Got the house to yourself for a week? No wonder you asked me over."
"I asked you over so we could take care of Tiana together."
"Mmm", I hummed.
She finished her bottle and I set it on the counter before I started to burp her.
I absentmindedly started humming 'hush little baby' while walking around the kitchen.
"Good girl", I said after she made a burping noise.
"How's your music going?", I asked after handing Tiana over to him.
"It's going great actually", he hummed. "I think it's time for her nap."
We walked upstairs to his room. He laid Tiana down in the middle of his bed.
He sat down in the chair by his desk before I sat on his lap.
He put his hand on my waist, caressing it lightly and locked eyes with me.
"You never answered my question", he started before I put my head in the crook of his neck.
"Fuck", he groaned as I lightly bit his neck.
I brought my head back up and pulled him into a deep kiss.
He slipped his tongue in my mouth making me moan.
"Why you been acting different around me?", he mumbled against my lips after pulling back.
"You be acting like I'm not there", I said making him smack his teeth. "I'd be wrong if I ghosted you though."
"Don't do that....Spend the night KC", he said before pecking my lips.
He kissed along my jaw and down to my neck.
"Mmm", I hummed as he sucked on my sweet spot, making me bite my lip.
I wrapped my arm around him and leaned into him.
"Girl you really let him do that?", Remi asked cutting me off.
"Y'all should see his neck. You'd think I was beating on him. That's why he had his hoodie over his head."
"Bitch", Kass said. "I can't believe you."
"KC did y'all? You know", Liyah said and motioned with her fingers.
"Oh nah", I said making them let out a breath of relief. "We ain't tryna make a real baby."
"Wait I just realized something.. you done been to his house before and ain't tell us?", Liyah said and hit my arm.
"It slipped my mind", I said making them smack their teeth.
"You stare at this boy everyday at lunch but it slip yo mind that you been done spent the night at his house", Remi said. "Woooow."
.✿.
"So today we're not going to be doing anything school work-wise. I'm just going to let you all focus on taking care of your little bundles of joy", Ms. Walker said after everyone sat down.
"You a real one Ms. Walker. Cause I don't think I could handle any more school work today", someone said making all of us agree.
I got up and moved to the back of the class, Oakley joining me soon after.
"This is getting too real. She pooped her diaper three times in Mr. B's class", Oakley chuckled as he sat next to me.
"She threw up on me this morning."
My phone started vibrating in my pocket.
Remi🩷
Y'all bet not be back there kissing 😐
Liyah🩷
I'll come in there and drag that white boy out of that room by his ear 👂🏻🤏🏾
Kassidy🩷
I got my eye on him 🥷🏿
Bet not be no more hickeys on yo neck
Kordei 🩷
Where the hell y'all at?
Kassidy🩷
Look at the door 🙂
I looked up and saw them looking dead at us.
Remi did a head-cutting motion then pointed at Oakley.
"Those your friends?", Oakley asked.
"Unfortunately", I sighed.
"Should I be worried?"
"No....Anyways", I said redirecting my attention to Oakley, ignoring them still standing at the door.
"You coming back to my house tonight?", he asked.
I squinted my eyes at him.
"You know so we both can take care of the baby. We want her to grow up with both of her parents", he said making me chuckle.
"If you just want me to spend the night again just say that."
"Spend the night", he said.
"You asking or telling me?"
"Kordei just spend the night again", he sighed.
"Ok", I chuckled. "Imma swing by my house and grab some clothes before coming over."
.✿.
"Seven years?! Time flies", I chuckled as I walked over to Oakley. "But one thing about it..."
I wrapped my arms around his neck and he put his hands on my waist.
"You get finer everyday", I said before pecking his lips.
"You still kissing up on that white boy I see", Remi said as she walked in with Liyah and Kass.
"We be doing more than kissing now", I said, receiving a chuckle from Oakley.
"Just nasty", Kass said shaking her head.
"You know it", I said and winked at her.
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fbfh · 2 months ago
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Tristin Dugray lore hcs
wc: 1k
warnings: mentions of broken/dysfunctional families, tristin's siblings both have drug problems, mentions of sexism and abortion (v briefly), mentions of cheating (also v briefly), tristin is not super close with his siblings, brief mention of DUIs (not tristin), I think that's it??
summary: lore on Tristin's family whipped up in my little plastic play kitchen by yours truly lol
a/n: I MISS HIM!!!! I SAW SOME GIFS THAT MADE ME SALIVATE!!!!! also!! in case it wasn't obvious the Dugray family is based on the real life Dupont family, just like how the Huntzbergers are based on the Sulzbergers
song recs: family jewels - Marina (ouch!), be here - palaye royale, everything is romantic - charli xcx
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The Dugray family have made their fortune as far back as the American revolution, starting with immigrating to America and manufacturing gunpowder for the American soldiers
This eventually led to the Dugray family owning one of the largest and most established chemical manufacturing corporations in America, DuGray
They invented a number of household names like pyrex, teflon, styrofoam, and even superglue, and also make ppe for people who work with or around chemicals
A while back, they also acquired two bank chains on the east coast, one of which is for east coast businesses, and the other is expanding slowly across america. 
The Dugray family’s net worth is roughly 18.6 billion. I know. 
Also, the Huntzberger family’s net worth is roughly 21.7 billion. I know.
Tristin mentions at one point that he has a “matching set” of baggage with Paris, and we know Paris’s parents are not at all close to her, or each other
We also know that her father is the head of a pharmaceutical company, and when her parents divorced it was in the newspaper
So yikes!
Anyway the only family mentioned by name is Janlon Dugrey, his paternal grandfather (I’m assuming if Janlon was his mom’s dad he would have a different last name yk)
So OBVIOUSLY I had to flesh things out a little 
Looking at this family tree I made a while ago, Tristin has two older siblings: his oldest brother Royce, and his older sister and middle sibling Sutton
They’re both a bit older than Tristin, since his mom is their dad’s second wife
Truett DuGrey married Helena Holshire and had Royce, then Sutton
They divorced when Royce was around 7 and Sutton was almost 5 because Helena suspected Truett of cheating, and Truett suspected Helena of being a gold digger
Both were true
A couple years later, Truett is introduced to Blythe Ross while working on publicity for the banks his family as acquired 
Blythe and Truett didn’t necessarily get along, but she could handle him better than most other women he’s met 
They were actually introduced through Mitchum Huntzberger and his wife Shira, because Shira and Blythe are sisters
Surprise!
So Blythe gets pregnant and Truett can feel another Helena gold digger situation coming
That’s when Blythe tells him she can’t go to his work event because she has to go to a clinic
Truett stops in his tracks and realizes three things at the same time
Blythe is not in fact using a pregnancy to try and get access to his money
He loves his son Royce as much as he’s able to, but he’s already becoming apathetic and Truett can’t pass over the family business to someone with no drive or ambition
Royce is 10 by the way
Lastly, he realizes that this might actually be beneficial to him
So he convinces Blythe not to get an abortion and to elope instead
Once she gets her body back after the baby they’ll stage some wedding photos and claim it was from a little over a year ago so no one knows he had the baby out of wedlock
When she’s 18 weeks along, he schedules a private ultrasound to find out the baby’s gender
He tells her that if it’s a boy, everything will be fine
If it’s a girl, he’ll serve her annulment papers and nice fat alimony and child support checks to keep both of them out of his life
Blythe isn’t sure if she’s relieved or not when the doctors announce they’re going to be having a healthy baby boy, but Truett sure is
So he grows up watching his burnt out older brother and back bone of the family older sister navigate middle school and high school when he’s barely starting kindergarten
They don’t have any harsh feelings toward Tristin
Not really
They were just never that close yk
It’s like the pilot of umbrella academy, “we only see each other at weddings and funerals”
Except really, they only see each other when Truett forces them into whatever is going on with the family business, or to bail each other out of trouble
Royce is just waiting for his trust fund to kick in so he can fuck off and smoke weed in peace
Sutton is desperately trying to keep her image and life together while hiding her nicotine dependency and steadily growing pill problem from the public eye
And Tristin just wants to fucking feel something
His mom has been in and out of “med spas” and “wellness retreats” for so long he wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t recognize him, and the only time he and his dad talk is when he’s making charges go away
Sutton is engaged to this guy Clint
And he’s fine or whatever, Tristin hasn’t really talked to him much before
But he’s keeping his ear to the ground to make sure he treats his sister right
Sure Sutton can be condescending and a total control freak and act more like a mom than his actual mom
But she’s still his sister
So Sutton’s been off planning this huge wedding and trying to start some lifestyle brand for luxury dog beds and organic phone cases or something
Royce barely managed to keep his latest DUI for driving stoned under wraps but Truett still found out and sent him off to rehab
So Tristin starts high school at Chilton feeling almost lonelier than ever
Tristin aches for consistency, for stability
Thanks to Duncan and Bowman he sort of has that
And people like Paris that he’s literally been in school with since he can remember
It’s not that they’re particularly close, but he just likes that she’s always around when he’s going to and from class
There’s a few other people like that too, loose acquaintances that haven’t dropped out or transferred
They make him feel like even if everything else has gone to shit, he still has his winning personality
And he still has Chilton
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autisticrosewilson · 6 months ago
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You have any Wilson family headcanons to spare? Especially on Rose & Grant?
DO I EVER!!! Gosh where do I even start
I mentioned to a friend of mine the other day that I think Slade was a leash kid, and I stand by that whole heartedly. He wanted to raise Grant as a leash kid too, simply because he thought you were supposed to, but Adeline threatened his life so it never happened. This was the first of many times he was confronted with the concept that maybe his home life wasn't great.
He would not even begin reflecting on this until almost a decade later. He still doesn't really consider himself a victim and honestly most of his shitty parenting comes from him just having no clue what he's doing. He's aware that he's bad at it, but instead of trying to improve he just tries to avoid his kids in hopes that they'll be better off without him.
Also he grew up in 1950's-60's Appalachia, I think he's more superstitious than he lets on. I imagine he grew up hearing about family curses and old wives tales, and while on some level he recognizes that Fran likely just used those stories to cope with the situation there's also a part of him that believes it for the same reasons she did. He's not a victim, he can't be, so it must not have been abuse. Which eventually turned into him just kind of accepting that he was always going to be a bad father, that there was never a chance for him to have a family and any attempt he makes will just end up worse than the last.
It makes it easier to maintain his self imposed isolation that way.
Adeline is a lot more interesting than people give her credit for. I like to think she was born and raised in a big city like New York or maybe Gotham if I wanted to be funny. She was definitely a wild child, and that was something that didn't change during her first marriage.
I truly do believe that Count whats-his-face (I don't care enough to look him up) tried exactly once to hit her and he ended up with three bullet wounds that all knicked arteries. It was his only warning and he was smart enough to know that.
Addie is loyal to the end, she's the kind of person that steadfastly refuses to let go of people she cares about. In basically ever version of her story she tries, she tries so hard to make things work. I once compared her to the Greek myth of Medea and I think about the comparison often.
I also think that Adeline was always her father's daughter, whether she liked it or not. I don't remember if it was canon that she was raised primarily by her dad but I only remember her dad being mentioned so I think she grew up in a single parent household and was mostly left to her own devices as a kid. She probably grew up really close with her cousin, most people probably thought they were sisters.
Mayflower fucking HATES Slade, she was advocating for the divorce before they were even married. I know in my heart she was Slade's biggest hater. Her and Slade talked mad shit about each other but they were also gossip buddies for the longest and it was the only thing that stopped her from beating his ass all the time.
SladeAddie is so toxic Bi4Bi coded. Really funny to me that Addie was probably older than Slade, do you know the kind of rizz you have to possess to bag a milf that could kill you in 20 different ways before you could blink? One who's already been divorced? What charm was this freshly 18 year old drop out exuding to be pulling like this?
When do you think he told her that he lied to the recruiter about his age and he wasn't actually 23 or whatever? Did he ever tell her? Did she figure it out herself? It was literally never addressed but I think about it all the time.
Slade is definitely still mildly in love with her and falls a little all over again every time she deals him grievous bodily harm. I don't know his thing for people who hate him is probably a self conscious way to punish himself for sucking all the time.
Billy and Alfred being friends is a headcanon that I literally never stop thinking about. Why wouldn't they be old friends or whatever? They have tea the 4th Tuesday of every other month. They complain about their respective morons and brag about the kids they have to take care of because their morons won't.
Billy is definitely a British rock fan and he fucking HATES country music. Slade starts playing it in the car and Billy threatens to crash the whole car just to make a point.
He's like maybe 5 years older than Slade if I'm being generous about it, he just looks older next to Slade because he's not hopped up on super serum.
He's the one Rose gives her father's day gifts to <3
SladeBilly is canon to me, no way Slade is capable of spending that much time with someone without sleeping with them at least once. It might be the healthiest relationship he's ever had with anyone and Billy barely tolerates him.
Lilian Worth my beloved,,,,,,they gave her such a white ass name. I choose to believe that she changed it later on for anonymity. Chea Nath is a name she hasn't used in a while, but it's still one she holds dear.
She seems like someone who was really into ballet, and probably someone who was really good at it too.
She's one of those characters that we don't really have any information on, which leaves a lot of wiggle room backstory wise. I probably write too much about characters with poor backgrounds (surprise your bitch grew up impoverished) so I guess I'll let Lili have this one.
Diplomats daughter, her and her mom were really close growing up, and she seems like she grew up with sisters. She's got that middle sister energy to her, growing up everyday was a fight and let's just say she didn't lose often.
If Adeline is Medea, Lili is definitely Circe. Versatile, powerful, a man hater, and she'll do anything to protect her girls.
Honors student, her grades never dropped below an A- and she has degrees in everything from fine art to communications. Rose went to college purely because her mom made it clear that not going was not an option.
Grant is one of my favorite characters. Ever. He's definitely an old school country enjoyer, much to Billy's chagrin and Slades secret delight.
He was the boy who climbed up the tallest trees to prove he could and then came home with a thousand little scrapes on him.
He has a bee allergy.
He's the least enhanced of his siblings but he still has a meta gene, I think the reason the H.I.V.E. serum didn't activate it like it should have is because his power was the mental kind and not the physical kind so his body couldn't hold up against it even while his psychic powers were getting stronger.
Painted his nails one(1) time, it was a dried up iridescent blue that Addie dug up and was going to throw away but Grant wanted to try it. He didn't know what nail polish remover was though so he scraped his teeth on his nails to get it all off but he couldn't get all of it and he almost cried so hard he threw up at dinner that night because he was scared of Slade noticing (Slade didn't notice and wouldn't have cared if he did).
Thought he was SO stealthy when he snuck out but literally everyone knew because he always came home smelling like weed, hungover, and he went to school in the same clothes he wore to go out. Most of the time Addie didn't care (See above: "former wild child") but Slade "Biggest loser in his hometown" Wilson always had an issue with it.
Officially his tomb is located in the Kane family plot but he's actually buried in Slades hometown next to his grandmother. (Adeline is not aware of this)
Joey was actually the one who pulled most of the pranks when they were kids, but Grant always took the fall. Mostly because literally no one would believe it even if Joey said he did it. Which he tried to do, many times.
Grant taught Joey to make flower crowns but he never admitted it because he thought it made him look weak. He still keeps the few that Joey made for him though, they're basically turning to dust in the drawer he hid them in to this day. They're one of the few things that weren't torn down and shoved in the attic after his death.
Joey still celebrates Grant's birthday every year, him and mom play The Last Man by Clint Mansell on the piano because it was his favorite piece to play before he stopped because it wasn't "cool".
Grant tried to get Joey to come with him when he ran away but Joey didn't want to leave Addie. Joey ended up moving into Grant's old apartment, he often thinks of what life would be like if he'd taken up the offer.
Grant is THE ass hole big brother from the late 90's/early 2000's. Down to the mullet and the shirt with the sleeves cut off. He used to steal Addie's eyeliner and she would get so mad because that stuff is EXPENSIVE and he's just smearing however. She teaches him how to do it properly but he says it makes him look "too girly".
Grant's picture is the only one in Slades wallet because he doesn't have to worry about putting him in danger anymore.
DON'T let Joey's "natural" pretty boy look fool you he has a 20 step skin routine and a 15 step hair routine and he wakes up at the ass crack of dawn to start on his makeup.
He used to get the worst acne as a pre-teen and he has physically burned all the evidence except for one picture of him and Slade on a fishing trip when he was like thirteen, he doesn't know it exists and it's the only picture Slade consistently travels with.
He doesn't want to be the favorite but he would get mad if someone else was the favorite because what work were YOU even putting in for it.
He has 12 year old boy humor I fear. Giggles at dick jokes and has used his name to make "Joe Mama" jokes on various occasions.
Number one Mama's boy of all time, there's not a single time they've gone out in public together where they haven't had coordinated outfits. Him and Addie call biweekly to shit talk people and exchange recipes and the like.
Joey is THE biggest gossiper. He'll talk shit about people right in front of them if he's sure they don't know ASL and whoever is around just has to try not to laugh while they "translate" him.
He's so good at convincing people to do things for him just by looking at them with his big ol' eyes. And he's a theater kid so his expressions are really exaggerated.
Rose, my muse. I know canonically she's a smoker but I'm changing that to her being a vaper. I don't know she just looks like she'd beat the shit out of you for a cherry lemon cancer stick.
Energy drinks don't work on her in normal amounts so to rectify that she constantly walks around with horrific concoctions in a water bottle the size of her head.
She street races as R4V4G3R and she's pretty good at it. She learned a lot about cars doing it which is how Slade justified being an anonymous benefactor for her.
The few weeks Slade had her she ran that shit like the navy. Up at 6 AM on the dot, tight ass ponytail swaying as she got ready for school. She was out that door by 7:25 everyday and she would MAKE Slade violate traffic laws to get to school by 7:35.
Has bitten people before and will do it again.
Had the BIGGEST crush on Donna Troy when she was on the Teen Titans. She didn't know it then but she did. Her taste in women really hasn't changed at all.
Only has her grunge thing going on when she's planning on meeting people, average day outfit is all pastels and florals that her mom used to pick out for her.
Got pretty much all of Lili's stuff, her main apartment is always Immaculately decorated. She also lives in L.A. because literally fuck New York. She's trying to get her engineering degree in PEACE.
She looks up to Grant a lot, she really only has Joey's account of things and he only tells her the good stuff. How he was brave, and strong, and funny. When she was younger she really wanted to be like him, but that was the last thing Slade wanted. So obviously she named herself Ravager out of spite.
Rose is the shortest one in the family but she's buff as hell, my girl is built like a fridge and she knows it. Joey tried to rest his arm on her head one and she stabbed him. It didn't go through his armor obviously but it did leave a mildly annoying bruise that he pouted about for a week.
She low-key really likes Addie but she tends to stay away because of the whole "child of infidelity" thing. She HAS threatened to call Addie on Slade multiple times.
Grew up with a bunch of other kids so she never really wanted siblings, but she would kill for Joey. She'd like a sister though. Really misses her cousins and aunts from the brothel but doesn't want to put them in danger by talking to them.
She's fond of kids but wouldn't want her own because she doesn't want to bring a kid into the kinda life she has, or their family in general.
Routinely takes jobs from Slade because she knows full well he won't do shit. And she's right every time he makes it into a team up that usually ends with them fighting but sometimes, every once in a while, they do something nice together and it makes her remember why she wanted to find him so bad when she was 13.
I don't like her carving her eye out for Slade I thought the whole concept of her idolizing Slade was fucking stupid. She tolerates him at best. So I like to attribute it to her visions, I think the blind prophet symbolism is really fun. Especially because then we can have a Prometheus type situation where her eye patch keeps switching sides/sometimes she's not blind because she keeps carving them out in fits of Seer Madness™️ but they keep regenerating.
SHE HAS BROWN EYES HER EYES ARE BROWN I KNOW HER PERSONALLY PLEASE LET HER KEEP EVEN ONE OF HER ETHNIC FEATURES I BEG!!!
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heavyhitterheaux · 10 months ago
Note
Maybe axel asking jack for relationship advice
AN: Axel is sixteen in this
Jack was in the kitchen on the hunt for the sweet potato pies that you had made and hid from him last weekend when Axel walked into the kitchen and called out for him.
“Dad?”
“Hmm?” Was all he answered as he turned around and thought about the next possible hiding spot for the pies.
“Um…” Axel started to say and instantly got quiet, making Jack stop his task of finding the pies and looking over at him.
“Everything okay?” He asked and Axel simply shrugged.
“I need advice.” Axel quietly said and a million things started to run through Jack’s mind.
“About what?” He asked as he took a seat on the island and Axel sat across from him. 
“So there’s this girl…” Axel started to say, but Jack immediately put his hand up to stop him.
“Before we go any further, there better NOT be any pregnancy caused by my second born.”
“NO! I’m not stupid! I know you two will kill me!”
“Okay, now that we got that out of the way, continue. What about this girl?”
“I like her, but I don’t know if she likes me back or even notices me for that matter. How did you get mom to notice you?”
“Taking note of what her interests were and letting her know that they were important to me too. For example, I definitely think that if your mother wasn’t famous that she would work for NASA because of how much she loves space. That’s where Nova’s name came from. And she did the same thing for me, we were around each other so much and spent so much time together because of that. Yes, her looks are a plus, but if she doesn’t have the personality to go with it then what’s the point? She needs to be a good person on the inside too.”
“And that’s when you bought her that telescope? And named a star after her?”
“Mm hmm, took me four months to save up my allowance to buy it for her and she still has it laying around here somewhere.”
It was quiet for a few seconds before Jack spoke up again.
“But even when we were at odds before the three of you were born, my love for her didn’t waver. Yes, I was mad at her and let a lot of things slide that I shouldn’t have, and she still forgave me because of the type of person that she is. I definitely didn’t think I deserved another chance and had it made up in my mind that she was going to divorce me and was just literally waiting for her to say it. I don’t ever take having her in my life or the six of you for granted because it definitely could have gone another way.”
“I… see how you look at her when she isn’t paying attention and I want to be able to do that one day. And I noticed that you two never argue in front of us.”
“I have the utmost respect for her and I never want a thought that I don’t love her or care about her to cross her mind because that couldn’t be further from the truth. She’s literally my entire world and it got a little bigger when she had all of you. We want for you all to have an example of what a healthy marriage looks like.” Jack said, being completely honest. Anything that you needed or wanted no matter how big or small, he would do it for you. 
"The pies are behind the cheesecake on the bottom shelf in the back left corner by the way. I won't tell mom I said anything."
"You have officially won my favorite child of the day award."
Your laughter filled the kitchen as you were now trying to cook dinner as Jack was behind you. He had told you that he was coming to help you, but instead he had been the test taster and was stealing bites of food every few minutes.
“Jackman! If you don’t quit we won’t have any food left!”
“But I’m starving!”
“How are you starving and you’ve been stuffing your face for close to an hour?!” You asked as he reached over to take another bite of food and you slapped his hand away.
“It’s almost finished, be patient!” You scolded and all you got in response as he kissed your cheek and you couldn’t help but to smile.
Axel was standing in the doorway of the kitchen and simply admired his parents from afar as Jack had now taken your hand and the two of you were dancing around the kitchen and waiting for the food to finish.
And he took note of how Jack was looking at you when you didn’t notice knowing that was something that he wanted to have one day.
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ladykailitha · 2 years ago
Text
All My Roads Lead Back to You Part 2
We get to see a little bit more about the work Dustin and Steve do and Steve gets the shock of his life.
Part 1
***
Steve loved his job and getting to work with his best friend made it all the more awesome. Thankfully his Platonic soulmate wasn’t around to hear him say that.
But she was coming to visit this weekend and that was always made for a great time.
He stopped by the development team to say hi.
“Dusty!” he greeted warmly. “Hey, man! What’s up?”
Dustin gave him a hug. “Hey! I didn’t know you’d be in today. How’s my favorite god daughter?”
Steve laughed. “Don’t let Lily Byers hear you say that.”
Dustin rolled his eyes. “Well considering she’s in China with her badass parents at the moment, she’ll never know.”
Steve batted his eyelashes at innocently.
“Right, Steve?” Dustin asked. “She’ll never know, because you won’t tell her, right?”
Steve held out for two seconds longer. “Of course not. Her mother still carries that Russian pistol of hers. I’m not about to start beef between the two girls.”
Dustin just shook his head. “I always thought it was interesting that the only ones of our Party to have girls was you and Nancy and Jonathan.”
“As Max would say, ‘too many boys’,” Steve agreed. “Like she didn’t have three of her own.”
“All tall with red hair and freckles,” Dustin said.
“My daughter is doing just fine,” Steve murmured. “She’s finally found a replacement for Lauren in her band.”
Dustin smiled. “That’s great. They come up with a name yet?”
Steve shook his head. “Nope. I think right now they’ve been calling themselves The Band.”
“Ouch.”
“So the real reason for this visit is...” Steve said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other nervously, “I was wondering if you had ear plugs I could use for their practice. I know I can just turn off my aid, but that does jack shit for my right ear.”
Dustin laughed. “Yeah, man. I’ve got you covered.” He went over to the design table and picked up a small grey box. He turned and handed it to Steve.
“They’re smooth with a flared base so they’ll slot gently into the canal,” Dustin explained. “You’d have to take out your aid or you just use the one. It’s up to you.”
Steve weighed them appreciatively. “Thanks, Dusty.”
“No problem,” he said with a grin. “I can’t imagine having to listen to a bunch of teenagers playing their instruments badly for a couple of hours.”
Steve grimaced. “What’s worse is that they haven’t figured out their style yet, so it’s a discordant mess of genres.”
Dustin made a face. “That’s rough, man.”
“How are you and Suzie getting along these days?” Steve asked gently.
Dustin sighed. “It’s official, she can’t have kids.”
Steve winced. “Even with in vitro?
“Yeah,” he replied mournfully. “We’re thinking adopting next.”
Steve nodded. “Let me know if you guys need anything right?” He squeezed Dustin’s arm in sympathy.
Dustin nodded.
Steve said goodbye and got back to work. He put the ear plugs in his briefcase so he wouldn’t forget to take them home. He shook his head. All his life he fought hard against being a business man like his dad. But it turns out that he’s good at it. Damn good at it.
He signed good morning to his receptionist, Vanessa.
“Good morning, sir,” she said, her voice a little off, the way it can some times get when you can’t hear yourself. “You have your ten o’clock appointment in fifteen minutes, but your lunch meeting canceled. Death in the family.”
Steve sighed. He signed back, “Send flowers and condolences and see if they want to reschedule. We need their micro chips.”
Vanessa saluted smartly and Steve flipped her off. He walked into his office and flopped into his chair with a sigh. He loved Vanessa. She had been with him since he went public with his hearing loss.
They had a great professional relationship and her husband, Nick loved Steve, too. He would tease her that he love Steve more than her and swore that he got Steve if they ever divorced.
Nick was hearing but his parents weren’t and that’s why Nick was Steve’s personal sign interpreter for his clients. Because Steve couldn’t be everywhere and he employed a lot of HOH and deaf people. Which he had gotten flak for when they first started. How would a deaf person be valuable to an audio company? And that was one of the reasons, Steve had come out as hard of hearing.
Because Steve was the reason S&D existed at all. As at the time he found out about his hearing loss, even the best hearing aids at the time were bulky, had a tinny quality to them, and were prohibitively expensive.
So of course big brained Dustin Henderson looked at them and said, “I could do better than that with a box of scraps in my mom’s basement.” And did. But the other thing Dustin was and still is, was mouthy. He couldn’t get investors to pay attention because he would end up getting mad and storm out.
Which is where Steve came in. He could sweet talk anyone. Was kinda famous for it, in fact.
There was a knock on his door and he looked over at the phone on his desk. It was flashing red. His appointment was here.
Steve stood up and greeted them with his most charming Harrington smile.
“Thank you for coming in today,” he said brightly. “Shall we get started?”
*
Steve got home from work to find Edith already home and doing her school work.
“Hey, sweetie,” he said kissing the top of her head. “How was school?”
“Hey, Dad,” she greeted. “It was okay. Algebra should be banned from schools forever.”
Steve got out a pitcher of water from the fridge and poured himself a glass. “Still having trouble with it?”
Edith sighed. “Yeah. It’s such a pain in the ass.”
“What did I tell you about swearing?” Steve asked with an eyebrow raised.
“Not until I’m an adult and not until I’ve moved out,” she grumbled. “Which ever comes last.”
Steve grinned. “Good girl. It’s more about trying to teach you that there are some places that won’t let you swear, like at certain places of business. And getting used to curbing your language will help with that.”
She sighed dramatically. “I know.”
He ruffled her hair and kissed the top of her head again. “Your band coming over tonight?”
“Yeah,” she said. “If that’s alright? I know you said only once a week but we need to make sure that garage will be okay to practice in.”
Steve laughed. “I’m aware.”
Edith rolled her eyes. “Like you know what being in a band is like.”
He swatted at her. “I know you think I live under a rock but I had friend that was in a band before I married your mother.”
She eyed him skeptically. “Are they famous?”
“No,” Steve said solemnly. “Their bus rolled over and killed their bassist before they got the chance.”
Edith’s eyes went wide. “You mean like Metallica?!”
That startled Steve out of his funk. “Yeah, like Metallica, only not. Because they decided that they couldn’t continue without their friend and hung it all up.”
“That’s too bad,” she said. “I’m not sure I would have been able to go on playing if Mandy or Kenny died.”
He nodded. “Just let me know if you guys need anything.”
“Will do!”
*
Steve could hear the band tuning their instruments and smiled. He paused. His face felt tight around his eyes and that wasn’t a good sign. He didn’t want a migraine at his little girl’s first band practice here at the house. That would be bad.
He took some Ibuprofen and hoped that would stave it off long enough until practice was over.
He then went out to the garage to say hi to everyone. He stopped at the bottom of the steps and his heart plummeted to his stomach. Standing there tuning a guitar Steve knew better than his own god damn name was a young man of about sixteen or seventeen with dark curly brown hair that fell about to his chin, big brown eyes and dimples in his cheeks.
“Dad!” Edith cried out. “Hey I want you to meet someone.”
Steve somehow managed to walk over to Edith’s friend. “Hey,” he greeted lamely.
He couldn’t remember if Dustin had said if Eddie had a kid. But this boy couldn’t be anyone else’s.
“H-man,” she said excitedly. “This is my dad, Steve Harrington.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said and Steve stomach dropped out further. His voice was almost the same, too.
“Dad, this is Harri Munson,” Edith said. “Mostly we call him H-man.”
Munson. There it was. There was no doubt now. This was Eddie Munson’s boy. The swooping feeling in his stomach became a roar.
“I met him in art class about a month ago,” she continued happily. “I learned he played guitar and I told him about our band and he was super excited to join. Which was great because after Lauren’s backstabbing–”
“Migraine,” he managed to croak to Edith before he dashed off.
Edith grimaced. “Sorry you had to see that. My dad gets migraines sometimes and I guess today is one of them. Poor bastard.”
Harri winced. “My papa used to get migraines, too. That sucks. Are we going to be able to still practice?”
Edith nodded. “Yeah, he said it would be fine. We just can’t turn up the sound to eleven.”
Harri laughed. “Gotcha.”
“You gonna need a ride home after?” Edith asked, not seeing a car.
“Nah,” Harri said. “My dad wants to meet your dad. Make sure I’m not going to get murdered or kidnapped or whatever.”
Edith rolled her eyes. “I know how that is. My dad is super protective too. Like I swear he went through major trauma he refuses to tell me about.”
Harri nodded. “Stupid NDAs is all Dad will say when I ask.”
“Yes! My dad, too!”
They both laughed.
The band started playing and about half way through they decided to stop and take a break.
Just then a car pulled up. It was slick black muscle car that made Mandy, the band’s resident gearhead whistle long and low.
“Who’s honey child is that?” she asked appreciatively.
Harri raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s my dad’s car.”
Edith frowned. “He’s not here to pick you up yet, right?”
Harri shook his head. “No, like I said he wanted to meet your dad.”
She nodded.
***
Part 3  Part 4 Part 5  Part 6 Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10 Part 11  Part 12  Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Epilogue
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im-just-a-br0adway-baby · 4 months ago
Text
Charlie was never the most open about talking about her mother. She has not spoken to her in seven years, but she missed her more than anyone in the hotel knew. Every night, before Vaggie comes into their room, Charlie would grab a picture of herself with Lilith and Lucifer from her bedside drawer and cry at it. She has been doing this since her mother abandoned her, and kept it to herself until Vaggie came into their room and saw her crying and staring at the picture.
“Charlie? We’ve decided to do that movie night that you suggested so we need you to help us pick out… are you okay, honey?”
Charlie sat up from her bed and hid the picture back in her drawer. Vaggie walked to the bed and sat next to her girlfriend. She looked at her face and noticed how red and puffy it was, with tears streaming down her face.
“You can talk to me if you’re feeling upset. You know you can talk to me about anything.”
Charlie opened her drawer and took the picture out to show Vaggie. She looked at the picture to see Charlie when she was a toddler in the duck onesie that Lucifer bought for her, smiling, with her parents behind her and holding her.
“Do you miss your mom?”
“Yes; I’ve been looking at this picture every day for the last several years, and I miss her. I haven’t told anyone about this because… I didn’t think anyone would understand.”
Charlie leaned on Vaggie’s shoulder before she hugged her as tightly as she could. “Char, we all understand what it’s like to lose a family member, let alone our mom. I remember when I first fell to Hell, on the day you found me, one of the first things I thought about was if I was ever going to see my mom again. I already haven’t seen her super often since I died, but the day I fell was when I realized I may never see her again. Plus, you already know that the closest thing to a mom I had since being in Hell was Carmilla.”
Charlie smiled and hugged Vaggie. She still cried, but she felt a lot better about sharing how much she missed Lilith with her.
“Do you feel like you can talk about it now?”
“Yes, baby. I feel more comfortable talking about it.”
Before she could say anything, Lucifer walked into the girls’ room to see his daughter crying and Vaggie holding her. He sat next to Charlie to see what has been taking them so long to come back downstairs.
“Hi, Char; is there something wrong? We’ve been waiting for you for quite a while now. Are you okay?”
Charlie and Vaggie let go of each other. “Dad, I have a question; do you miss mom?”
Lucifer hesitated before answering the question. “I miss you mother every day. Ever since the divorce, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I couldn’t stop thinking about you either when she took you away from me.”
Charlie wiped a tear from her face and showed her father the picture that she showed Vaggie. Lucifer smiled at the picture to see himself with his ex-wife and daughter together and smiling their big smiles in that picture.
“That was always your favorite picture of all three of us. I remember you had that picture hanging next to your bed, right at eye-shot. You would smile at that picture before falling asleep every night.”
Charlie giggled and hugged Lucifer before they noticed Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, and Cherri Bomb coming into the room. They all sat down around Charlie on the bed and looked at her.
“Charlie? We’ve been looking through movie options and we need you to help us pick on for movie night,” Alastor explained once he sat down.
“Sorry, everyone; I was just looking at this picture of my parents and me and was thinking about how much I miss my mom. I’ve been thinking about it since she stopped talking to me,” Charlie explained, crying again.
“And you’ve been feeling this way this entire time?” Angel asked.
“Yes, I have.”
“Well, why didn’t you tell anyone?” Husk asked.
“Because… I didn’t think any of you would understand.”
“Why would you think we wouldn’t understand? We all miss our mums,” Cherri Bomb said.
Charlie wiped a tear from her face. “Because I didn’t think any of you would have been straight up abandoned by your moms. They probably either showed up when you died or you showed up for them when they died.”
“Charlie, just because we were never abandoned by our moms doesn’t mean we don’t miss them. We still think of so many positive memories that we had for them when we were all still alive, and we still cry when thinking about them,” Niffty explained.
“Exactly! You remember I would tell all of you so many stories about my mom, and how she was the one that taught me her Jambalaya recipe,” Alastor explained.
“The one you would make for us all the time?” Charlie asked.
“That’s right; that’s the one. The day she taught me that recipe was one of my favorite memories with her. That and also the time she taught me how to play the piano. We had this little, wooden upright piano in our living room that was always out of tune, and my mom would play on all the time when I was younger. One day, I asked her if she could teach me how to play, and she did. She has been at every one of my recitals while my father never showed up. She was my number one fan and supporter throughout my life and the day she died was the saddest moment of my life, including the date of my own death. I sat at her bedside on that day, and once she stopped responding, I was completely broken.”
Charlie leaned down and gave Alastor a hug. Alastor began to tense and static up until Charlie let go of him and backed away from him. She kept on forgetting that he did not like being touched until he began to static up, or until she was reminded.
“It’s funny ya bring up your mom teaching you a recipe, ‘cos that reminded me of when my mom taught me her lasagna recipe when I was a kid. She taught it to my sister, Molly, and me; we were the closest to her while our brother, Arackniss, was closer to our dad and everyone could tell, too. My mom was always so positive and funny compared to our dad, and we loved her jokes. Most of them are pretty dirty, though. Our dad told us all the time that our mom was the only person to ever manage to get him to smile and laugh. She was also the only person to get Arackniss to smile and laugh too, just like Molly and me. When we were all still alive, everyone would tell Molly and me that we got our sense of humor from our mom,” Angel explained.
“That sounds like the rest of the Deadly Sins. They would all tell me that I get my sense of humor from you, Dad,” Charlie said as she hugged Lucifer. She then reached over to Angel Dust when she saw him crying.
“You know, with all these cooking stories from your moms, that reminded me of when my mom and I used to cook breakfast together every Saturday morning when I was a kid. I would wake up early with my mom, all excited for a day off from school, and we would spend the hour making pancakes from scratch. On some weeks, mostly during the holidays, we would get into flour fights together, and we would get so wrapped up in it that we wouldn’t realize what we were doing until our dad came downstairs and noticed the mess. He would get so angry and make us clean it up afterwards. It was one of the only times I remember ever actually having fun, and I can never get myself to go back,” Niffty explained.
“I’m surprised there was once a Niffty that loved to make messes,” Vaggie replied.
“Well, there was, but when I got older, we started playing less and less, and my parents would just fill my brain with cleanliness all the time.”
“Husky, do you have any stories about your mom?” Angel asked.
“I do; we would go into downtown Vegas every summer, and there was a little area that would hold magic shows for the kids while their parents drank and gambled all night. But my mom would stay with me to see the shows together. That was when I got this pin,” Husk explained as he took a pin of a top hat, a magic wand, and several playing cards with the saying “What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas” on it off his suspenders. He showed everyone the pin before putting it back on. “We would still go every summer when I got older. That was when I started gambling when I was old enough, and I used to love to dance with the celebrity impersonators whenever I would see them.”
The rest of the crew giggled as Husk blushed. “You used to dance with the celebrity impersonators when you were older?” Angel asked, still giggling.
“I was drunk whenever I would dance with them, so I don’t really remember most of it. What I do remember was how heartbroken I was when she died. I was right at her bedside at that time, and once she stopped responding, I would not stop crying for a week straight, and would start binge drinking. It was one of the saddest moments of my life.”
Angel Dust reached over to Husk to give him a hug. Charlie reached over to do the same thing. Husk smiled and grabbed Angel’s and Charlie’s arms to tighten their hug. Everyone’s stories with their moms were lifting Charlie up more and more.
“Everyone’s mum stories are so sweet. Alastor’s story of his mum teaching him to play the piano reminded me of my mum giving me my first electric guitar for Christmas when I was a kid. She was also the one to teach me how to play. She used to be part of a cover band not that long before I was born, and would also play a bunch of songs for me when I was younger. She later taught me how to play and when I got older, I would start playing and singing covers of my favorite songs onstage, just like her. My mum was also my number one supporter and she would come to all my shows too. I miss her so much,” Cherri Bomb explained.
Everyone moved closer to each other and wrapped their arms around each other in a group hug. They moved in closer and held on to each other tighter before laughing together. Charlie was beginning to realize that she was not the only one in the hotel that missed their mom, but there was one person she wanted to hear a story from the most.
“Hey, Vaggie, do you have any stories about your mom from when you were still alive? I know you said earlier that you miss her a lot.”
“I do, and I do have one story from when I was younger that resonated with me more than any other moment I had with my mom. I was often beaten up a lot when I was in school, and I would come home with a bloody nose and a black eye at least once every year. My mom was the only one that I was safe to open up to about my immense bullying in school. That was when she would teach me self-defense. That was how I was able to exterminate every year, as much as I hated it. When my mom taught me self-defense, I became more confident in standing up for myself and everyone started to become scared of me, but in a good way, kind of. I was still alone all throughout school, and I never had much luck with romantic relationships until I met you, Charlie, but I remember when I came out as a lesbian, my mom was the first one to support me and lift me up.”
Charlie smiled and hugged her girlfriend as tightly as she could. Vaggie hugged her back and shed a tear, which landed on Charlie’s shoulder. She got up from her girlfriend’s shoulder and wrapped her arm around it as Charlie did the same thing with her, and they held each other as tightly as they could.
“What about you, Charlie? You started the conversation, so what are your best memories with your mom?” Vaggie asked.
Charlie thought for a bit before answering. She had so many that she did not know where to start. “Well, Alastor’s story of his mom teaching him how to play the piano reminded me of when my mom taught me how to play the piano, too. Although we had a massive grand piano in our old place. I  remember hearing her play all the time as a kid, too, and I also wanted her to teach me. When I got older, Dad would always break out the fiddle and we would put on concerts together for all of Hell.”
“That sounds like something we can all do together. A concert can not only bring more traction to the hotel, but it can also be a great bonding experience,” Vaggie added.
“I should put that on my list of events we should hold.”
Lucifer wrapped his arm around his daughter and Charlie wrapped hers around him. “Speaking of music, that made me think of when you and I used to sing the ‘Five Little Ducks’ song and play with my rubber ducky collection together when you were little. Lilith would help us with the quacks sometimes.”
Charlie and Lucifer giggled before everyone else giggled with them. “I remember she only really joked around with us. I guess since everyone saw her as so powerful and dominant that she didn’t feel like she could be herself with anyone besides us. But when she was silly with us, it was the best moments I had with her.”
“Oh yes! She hardly ever showed that side of her in public, but when she was alone with me or with you, she was like a completely different person. I guess since she knew the real me from the beginning, she felt the most comfortable around me. She would also attempt to hide her laugh in public because she was so embarrassed by it.”
Charlie shed another tear before she continued. “I remember her laugh; it was so distinct that anyone could tell it was her when she couldn’t hide it. I would get pretty embarrassed whenever she couldn’t hold in her laugh in public when I was a teenager because it was so loud. I would look the other way in embarrassment if she did start laughing in public, but I was also trying to hold in my laughter at the same time. Her laugh was always enough to make anyone else laugh, especially Dad and me.”
“That sounds quite familiar, doesn’t it?” Alastor asked.
“It sounds familiar to me. It reminded me of that one time when Angel made that really dumb masturbation joke and it got to you because it came out of nowhere. You laughed so hard that you started snorting and crying, and even the water you were drinking almost came out of your nose. The rest of us started laughing too, but it wasn’t because of the joke. That was probably the hardest you laughed in front of the rest of the hotel in a long time,” Vaggie explained.
“And you would even attempt to hide it around us out of embarrassment sometimes. But it comes out one way or another, and it’s one of the cutest and funniest things ever,” Angel added while attempting to tickle Charlie underneath her armpit.
She giggled and hid her face again before moving Angel’s arm away from her. “Oh yeah, I guess I did get my laugh from my mom. For a while, I thought I only inherited her hair and her height,” said Charlie. She looked at the picture again before speaking again. “Although there’s so much I wish I could experience with her. I wish she could have met you, Vaggie, I know she would have loved you as much as Dad does. I wish she could see our first redemption with Sir Pentious. I wish she could have met the rest of you, too. She would have loved each and every one of you. I just hope she will come back, or at least talk to Dad and me again, before Vaggie and I decide it’s time for us to raise children of our own.”
“Well, you know how we all miss Sir Pentious? We’re still sad that he’s gone, but the positive memories of him can make us happy. That can be the same thing for your mum if you ever feel like crying about how much you miss her,” Cherri Bomb said.
“You’re right, Cherri; I’m happy we had this talk and you all shared your favorite stories about your moms. I feel like this picture doesn’t need to be hidden anymore,” Charlie replied as she pinned the picture above her bed next to the photo booth strip of her and Vaggie from a year prior.
“Now you can look at that memory with positivity again,” Lucifer pointed out.
“And it’s right next to your other favorite memory, and mine,” Vaggie added.
The crew surrounded Charlie in another group hug and laughed again. Charlie shed another tear and she and her friends held her as tightly as they could before letting go of each other again.
“Wait a minute, weren’t we supposed to have a movie night?” Husk asked.
“Yes we were! Let’s go downstairs and pick out a movie!” Charlie replied.
The crew got up from Charlie and Vaggie’s bed and started chatting and laughing with each other as they went downstairs together. One talk about everyone’s mothers got Charlie feeling energetic enough to go back downstairs to participate in the movie night they planned together again. While Charlie was still going to miss Lilith, she did not feel like she had to cry every time she was reminded of her anymore.
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prosperdemeter2 · 6 months ago
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Fuck It Friday - retail!AU
It's been a hot second, hasn't it? I'm having such a good time writing this silly little fic, I hope you all enjoy this next snippet!
“Think you could get Josh to approve my supply order?” Eddie asked as he tied the bag shut. “I think the fire marshal will actually shut us down if we don’t have working fire alarms.” He shook out the next one to place in the barrel by the door. “And I can’t even say I blame him if he does. Even if he seems a bit overzealous.”  “Oh my god,” May slammed the drawer closed and looked over at him with a spark of juicy gossip in her eyes. “Did you know that Abby used to sleep with him?”  Eddie blinked, “The… what? No!”  “The tall hot one, right? With the birthmark over his eye?”  “Yes!”  “She slept with him!”  “Wasn’t she, like… fifty?”  “Forty-seven, actually.” May corrected and nodded eagerly. “But, yes! And he was, like, twenty-something when they started it. She’d do it so that we got a passing grade or something, but it never worked.” She scrunched up her face. “Well, okay, I think it worked, like… once or twice but… one day his sister comes in and just tears into her, you know? There’s a ton of customers around, she says something about Abby being old enough to be his mom, about how he could have lost his job, just, like… a whole thing.”  Eddie’s eyes were almost permanently wide, “What the fuck?”  “I know!” May laughed. “Abby was white as a sheet! Josh almost fired her because of it.”  “That….” Slowly, Eddie shook his head. “That seems a little extreme.”  “Oh, god, no. Like… Abby wouldn’t leave him alone. He’d come in to do an inspection and it was constant innuendo from her. Turns out they did it in her office once and that’s a blatant disregard of rules. And it sucks so much, because he’s actually a really sweet guy. He adored her.”  “We’re talking about the same guy that marked us down because our rafters that no one can reach were dusty?” “He’s a little anal about his job,” May shrugged. “But he knows all of our names. When my parents were going through their divorce and I had a really tough time during one of his inspections and started crying, he stopped what he was doing to make sure I was okay, you know?”  “That just seems like basic human decency.” Eddie shook his head with a laugh.  “Abby was the problem there,” May hummed and fixed him with a look. “The Marshal is actually really cool. He always left Josh his notes when I was running the place and said the team was doing the best they could with what they had. He could have fined us every single visit.”  “Yeah, well, the guy still gave us a twenty-three percent.” Eddie scoffed. “I don’t plan on singing his praises anytime soon.”  “Uh-huh,” May squinted at him with a laugh. “We’ll see about that after a few meetings.” 
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shyvioletcat · 1 year ago
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ROWAELIN MONTH: DAY EIGHT
~ Single Parent ~ Ah yes, this is always one of my favourite days. This is part two to my Fish are Friends fic, so please enjoy. @rowaelinscourt
~~~~~
“This guy is loaded.”
Aelin snorted at her friend's awed exclamation as she eased off on the accelerator coming up the long, paved driveway. The house wasn’t obnoxiously large, but it was well beyond decent with a pretty facade and well kept gardens. And if the price he had offered initially for her services today was anything to go by, yes Rowan did have money to burn. 
She had waited until she got home to text him back and to say yes to the offer of Ivy’s birthday party, claiming that now she had turned back into a mermaid she could talk mermaid business. With how the girl was so enamoured by the whole mermaid performance Aelin couldn’t even think of saying no. Rowan had immediately come back with a price just under what her gig at the aquarium paid in a fortnight and she stared at it wide eyed for a full minute. She knocked it back, then there was a mildly heated discussion over what the price should be. Rowan was overly generous, and Aelin helped equate the cost by saying she needed to bring a friend along to help her with her costume and they would split it. That had been fine, of course, and why Lysandra was sitting in the passenger seat. 
The car stopped and Lysandra was still peering out the windows trying to get a better look. “His wife, slash girlfriend, slash whatever must be living the life.”
“He’s divorced,” Aelin said, pushing the gear stick into park. 
“That’s an awfully weird thing to find out in a conversation that went for two minutes,” Lysandra added.
Aelin shrugged, seatbelt clicking as it undid. “Well his daughter did demand he kiss me.”
Lysandra paused from where she was checking over her make-up in the sun visor mirror, head turning sharply. “She what?”
“I had to keep the magic alive and I may have told her that I needed a kiss from my true love to stay a mermaid. There was something about a sea witch curse in there too.”
The mirror closed with a snap. “That’s real dedication.”
“Yes it is and that’s why I need you to go knock on the door and suss out where I need to go so Ivy doesn’t know I’m here until I’m dressed. I’m only human between three and six to her knowledge,” Aelin explained, gesturing to the dark wood door.
“I feel like there was an easier way to do this,” Lysandra said.
Aelin shooed her with a gesture of her hand. “I was under pressure, now go.”
Lysandra didn’t answer, just did what she was asked, hopping out of the car and making a show of knocking on the front door. Aelin sunk in her chair a little, ready to hide completely if anyone little appeared at the door. She managed to see an older woman with greying auburn hair look her way as Lysandra pointed to the car. There was some more conversing and then some nodding, and then Lysandra was coming back over to the car. 
She opened the car door and lent in. “So, that lady was Iris and she’s the grandmother. She said all the littlies are inside making bracelets or something so you are all clear to sneak in using the side gate and use the pool house to get ready.” 
“Fantastic,” Aelin replied and didn’t waste any time. Children were unpredictable, who knows when they might choose to stampede outside. “Let’s go.”
The two of them unloaded the gear, managing to get it all gathered together in one load. Tail and accessories in hand, the side gate was easy enough to spot. Aelin led the way, listening out for an excitable little girl who’s birthday she did not want to ruin. Sounds of laughter and music came from inside the house, but Aelin ignored it all and headed straight to the pool house. Luckily, the blinds were down on the floor to ceiling windows saving them the trouble. It was a tidy space, besides the child’s toys stacked in a corner. There were a few lounges, a small kitchenette and a door Aelin assumed led to a bathroom. 
The gear was dumped on one of the lounges and Aelin started to strip off. “Alright. Let’s do this.”
~~~~~
Rowan tried to keep his hand steady even as the little girl in front of him was determined not to stay still. Ivy had begged him to do face painting at her party, and of course he was going to say yes. He had spent the last month practising on paper, his daughter and even his friends when they let him. Rowan had been good to start with, and now he was considering making it a weekend job. Not really, being a deputy principal during the week and being a full time dad was more than enough work for him. But at least it was therapeutic. 
“Hold still for just one more second,” Rowan told the brown haired girl sitting in front of him. She huffed, but listened, the lure of a unicorn horn and ears overriding the need to see what was going on. Adding a few last details on the horn to really give it some sparkle and then he was done. “There.”
Rowan didn’t need to say more than that and the girl was off. He wiped his hands on an old tea towel and was about to refill some of the snack bowls when his mother approached him looking like she was holding in a secret. 
She sidled up close, beckoning him a little closer so Rowan had to lean in as she whispered. “Your mermaid is here.”
“Oh,” Rowan said, taking a look around. “Where?”
“I sent her and her friend to the pool house,” Iris said. “After Ivy’s rave reviews I’m excited to see her myself.”
Because Aelin was all Ivy could talk about and she already fawned over her to anyone who would listen in her select circle of people she chose to talk to. Rowan had kept the mermaid appearance under wraps and he was glad to see his surprise hadn’t been ruined. His daughter was going to lose her mind. 
“Pool time!” Rowan announced to the room, excited squeals drowning out his chance to say anything else. 
Ivy was by his side in a second, pulling at her dress so she could get to the swimsuit she had insisted on wearing underneath. Rowan helped her before he could do some damage, revealing the mermaid scale patterned one piece with a frilly little tutu skirt around her waist.  
“Come on, Dad!” Ivy said, pulling on his hand  and trying to drag him towards the pool.
Rowan smiled at her eagerness. “Hold up, we gotta wait for everyone else to be ready.”
That didn’t take long at all and it was only about 10 minutes later that everyone was crowded around the new location for gathering. To help ease the minds of the parents he’d paid a couple of his friends to be honorary lifeguards. In the end he had chosen Connall and Vaughan, and it had taken some heavy consideration. Lorcan was out because his lack of care and observation might just end in disaster. Fenrys’ sole purpose would be showing off shirtless in front of the mums and anyone else who found themselves interested, and Rowan needed the children in the water to be the priority. And even though Vaughan had similar motives, he would at least include the supervision of the children in his displays. Connall was the easy decision because, besides Rowan himself, he was the most level headed and had more than an ounce of common sense. 
“Excuse me.”
Rowan turned at the unfamiliar voice behind him. A stunning brunette who he did not recognise stood there. She didn’t have the look of one of the parents and she wasn’t a caterer—she was dressed too casually for that. It had him wondering who she was.
“Hi, I’m sorry but…”
“Oh, Lysandra,” she said, a hand on her chest. “Friend of Aelin.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Rowan extended his hand for a handshake which was returned. 
“Likewise,” Lysandra said. “Aelin is ready but we’ve hit a bit of a snag.”
“How so?” Trying not to sound too panicked at the potential flow in his party plans.
“Um, she can’t exactly walk out of there.”
Rowan felt the confusion on his face as he tried to figure it out. 
Lysandra smiled. “She doesn’t have legs.”
“Oh, right,” Rowan said, laughing a little. “What do you need me to do?”
“It’s a good thing you at least look strong,” Lysandra said, beckoning Rowan to follow. 
“Mam, can you watch Ivy and the pool,” Rowan threw over his shoulder—her affirmative answer sounding as he headed towards the pool house. 
The blinds were closed and Rowan did one last check of the pool before he ducked into the building right behind Lysandra. Aelin sat on one of the lounges in her full get-up, tail and seashells and the make-up that had her face sparkling. Once again, he was struck by how beautiful this woman was, it was an impossible thing not to notice.
“Nice to see you again,” she said with a little wave. 
“You too,” Rowan said, then hastily added. “And thank you. For doing this.”
“Anything for the kids, right?” Aelin said. 
“Speaking of, should we get to it?” Rowan asked.
Aelin gave a flourish of her hands down the length of her body. “By all means.”
Rowan tried not to be awkward as he bent down and scooped Aelin up bridal style, she even draped her arms around his neck. The tail made her stiffer than other women he’d carried like this, but he managed. 
“If you could get the door?” Rowan asked Lysandra. 
“Of course.”
Rowan was concentrating so hard as he stepped through the doorway, trying his best not to knock Aelin’s head or tail. She must have been concerned as well because her grip tightened and she hugged herself closer to him. He managed it all without incident and brought them safely into the sun. 
“Look who I found in the bathtub!” Rowan announced, drawing the attention of the party. Ivy’s exclamation of Aelin rang out over all of it. He lowered his voice so only Aelin could hear. “Where do you want me to set you down?”
“Shallow end, by the steps,” Aelin replied quietly before turning her attention to the party. “I heard it was someone’s birthday.”
Rowan set Aelin down and Ivy was there a heartbeat later. 
“It’s me, Aelin. It’s my birthday,” Ivy said nearly climbing onto the mermaid. 
Aelin graciously took it all in her stride, wrapping her arm around the girl. “I couldn’t miss that.”
Within moments Aelin had control of the party, all the kids flocking to her and her magnetic energy. Rowan left her to it, heading outside the pool fence to grab himself a drink. He grabbed a beer from the cooler in the kitchen before returning to the back patio to watch the show. There was no doubt in his mind that Aelin would be putting on a performance if her work at the aquarium was anything to go by. 
“Dude, you got a mermaid?” That overly question came from Fenrys, who had appeared next to Rowan, face still decorated with a large rainbow and a collection of stars. Ivy had insisted her uncle get his face painted and like everyone else in her life, he hadn’t refused. “She looks legit. Where’d you find her?”
“The aquarium,” Rowan answered before taking a sip from the beer bottle in his hand. 
“I don’t know if you’re kidding or not,” Fenrys said. 
That made Rowan laugh. “I’m being serious. She works at the aquarium, and Ivy fell in love with her the other day. I asked her if she did private functions and she said yes.”
“Private functions? That sounds shifty as hell,” Fenrys added. 
Rowan thought for a moment, recalling how Aelin had stalled and the awkwardness had skyrocketed. It was nearly enough to make him flush with embarrassment again. 
“Yeah, I realised my error in wording pretty quickly,” Rowan admitted. 
“How much did she cost?”
That voice was female and accusatory, it made Fenrys grimace sympathetically before he left Rowan to deal with answering. He turned around, finding his ex-wife just behind him, glaring in the direction of the pool before her eyes darted back to him. Waiting. 
Strained was an apt description to describe the relationship between him and Lyria. They had been high school sweethearts that decided to get married before they knew anything of the world. They’d stuck it out years longer than they should have, divorce had been up for discussion when they’d found out Lyria was pregnant. It hadn’t helped the already precarious relationship and by the time Ivy was two Rowan found himself a first year teacher and a single father with majority custody. He had been ready to fight for Ivy but it was an obvious choice considering the stability and flexibility of his job. Rowan was guaranteed a job with manageable hours, he’d have school breaks off, and with the money he made plus what he had from his family to back him, allocating him as primary carer was an easy choice. It just left him open to continual criticism over the choices he made about raising his daughter, especially when it came to money. 
“It doesn’t matter,” Rowan said. “She’s made Ivy’s day, what’s more important than that?”
Lyria hummed her objection, her gaze darting over to their daughter again at a bright burst of laughter. “You need to stop throwing money at things just to make her happy. She’ll grow up with a skewed view of the world, not knowing what the real world is like.”
Rowan resisted rolling his eyes. They’d had this discussion before, and they’d have it again. She always accused him of spoiling their daughter in the worst way. And maybe he did, to an extent, but Rowan was also sensible to a fault as his friend’s like to point out. 
“We figured it out, and so will she,” Rowan said. “Hopefully sooner than we did, hmm?”
He left Lyria to muse over that, not wanting to have this fight and potentially ruin the party. Rowan decided his time was better spent refilling the snack bowls and checking the cake hadn’t been damaged in the fridge. Once those menial tasks were done and his beer finished, Rowan wandered to the poolside again. 
Aelin was in the water now, showing the kids how she swam from one end to the other with her tail. It wasn’t just the kids watching either, like at the aquarium she had the whole crowd entranced. Rowan took up a spot on the transparent fence waiting to see what Aelin might be up to next. She’d stopped swimming and sat on one of the pool steps, from her hips down in the water. Bubble bottles had been conjured from somewhere and all the kids sat in a row having a competition to see who could blow the biggest one. Aelin pursed her lips, bubble wand poised in her hands. He was again struck by how beautiful she was, and just as he had been that day at the aquarium Rowan found it hard to look away. 
The makeup she wore still remained intact depite he time in the water, the gold shimmer around her eyes highlighting their unusual colour. What had him damn near entranced was her smile, it seemed to brighten her entire being. Rowan felt like he was getting dangerously close to leering—respectfully—when he was interrupted.
“Not, bad Ro. Not bad at all,” Fenrys said, his only reply was an eye roll. “You don’t have to dent it, mermaids are hot.”
“I didn’t know you had that much experience,” Rowan quipped back. 
“I’ve been chatting to her friend. Did you know she’s a mermaid too?” Fenrys asked.
“I did not,” Rowan replied flatly. 
“Well, she is. And just like your friend here, she’s smoking. You did me a solid favour,” Fenrys went on to say. 
Rowan sent his friend a questioning look. “What does that mean?”
Fenrys backed away, shrugging his shoulders and giving Rowan a conspiratorial wink to an unknown conspiracy.    
Ivy saved him from being made to suffer through more idiocy, her damp hand patting his forearm where it rested on the top of the fence. “Daddy, I need to ask you something.”
Rowan stepped back so that he could lean down a little closer. “What is it, love?”
“Um, can I… wait. No, can you—“
Ivy’s rambling had him confused but half a second later it was all made clear. A wave of water hit him, drenching his head and arms, the rest of him saved by the protection of the fence. Ivy was caught in it too, but she just cheered and laughed, trying to clap but the floaties on her arms stopped her hands from meeting fully. Rowan wiped the water from his face and saw Aelin swimming away, smiling and sending him a wink. Rowan let out a chuckle at the antics, grinning broadly at the uncontrollable giggles bubbling out of Ivy. 
“We got him!” Ivy squealed and then launched herself back in the pool. 
He saw on Aelin’s face the mirror of his own lurching gut as Ivy hit the water. She knew how to swim of course, he wasn’t stupid enough to throw her a pool party if she didn’t, but most confidently with assistance. The concern for her safety was hard to shake, and luckily Aelin was right there, arms out to keep the girl’s head well and truly above water. 
Rowan had no idea how Aelin was able to do everything she did without sinking to the bottom of the pool. If he had his legs bound together he would not be doing so well. His shirt was clinging to him uncomfortably and decided to change. So he left his daughter to the mermaid, knowing that she was in safe hands. Or maybe that was fins.
~~~~~
Aelin hadn’t expected to have this much fun at a kids birthday party. It might have been because Ivy was just so stinking cute and enthralled by the whole mermaid thing that it was hard not to be infected by it as well. Or it might have been because the pay was just that good it was an immediate mood booster. Aelin had expected it to be the latter, when in fact it was the former. 
She had been in the pool for a good two hours, playing around and telling stories. When the kids started to shiver the parents had dutifully begun to dry them off. With the afternoon sun fading behind the clouds it was hard to keep warm, and that included Aelin. Her tail offered no insulation and just made the situation worse. Even though the kids begged for more entertainment while drying off or returning to the poolside, Aelin could feel the goosebumps on her skin even when she tried to ignore them. Soon she would start shivering and she was sure her lips would start turning blue. There was a lull in the activity around her and Aelin looked around for Lysandra or at least Rowan, hoping to flag either one of them down to get some help getting out of the pool. 
Neither was within Aelin’s sight, and a shudder went from head to hip, everything lower down completely immobile. She needed to get out of her tail, and fast. Looking around again Aelin spied Ivy talking to a woman sitting on one of the pool chairs. Her brown hair was wavy and her gentle face seemed to hang on every work Ivy said. If Aelin were to hazard a guess, she would say that woman was the girl’s mother. 
“Ivy,” Aelin called, her voice catching because she was just that cold. “Hey, Ivy.”
That time Ivy heard her, quickly walking over because she had announced more than once that her father said there was no running around the pool. “Hi, Aelin.”
“Sweetie, I wonder if you could find your dad for me,” Aelin said. 
“Yeah, I can.” The little girl was excited and easy to please. 
But on the way past the woman stopped Ivy, catching her by the hand. “We should get you dried off for cake.”
Aelin nearly groaned, because that was enough to divert Ivy attention completely. Watching Ivy being led away Aelin started cursing her friend who had somehow entirely disappeared without a trace. She kept looking over the various adults milling around and moving into the semi alfresco dining area readying for cake. Never spotting Lysandra, Aelin eyed the cement around the pool and contemplated the damage to her skin and tail if she had to crawl her way back to the pool house. The children might just die from shock if she stripped off her tail here. 
The chorus of ‘happy birthday’ sang out from the house and Aelin peered through the crowd to see Ivy beaming at her expertly mermaid themed decorated cake. This was now ridiculous. Lysandra knew the kid even less than Aelin did, if she was in there singing along and hoping for a slice of cake while she was freezing her tits off out here.
“Where is she?” Aelin muttered as she wrapped her arm around herself. 
This silicone tail might be the death of her. All she could do was be resigned to her fate. Aelin zoned out, keeping her body distracted and warm as she could by flicking her tail through the water. The sound of the pool gate creaking had her looking over and found Rowan approaching, a plate in hand. 
“I brought you some cake,” he said.
“Thanks,” Aelin replied, voice unsteady. 
That was enough to stop Rowan in his tracks, and Aelin watched his eyes dart over her. “You’re blue.”
“It’s turquoise, actually,” Aelin said, pushing a lock of damp hair out of the way. 
Rowan put the cake on one of the pool chairs. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. What didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried to send Ivy to you but she got distracted,” she nodded over at the cake. “By cake.”
Rowan just shook his head, motioning for her to get ready to be picked up. Aelin bent her knees the best she could now that her legs were stiff and cold, and let herself be scooped up. He carried her back to the pool house, Aelin holding on tight while there was some awkward manoeuvring around the door handle. 
“Where’s best?” Her saviour asked. 
Aelin couldn’t stop the whole body shiver. “Uhh, here. I just need to get this tail off.”
Rowan obliged, easing her down onto the couch. It was difficult and awkward but Aelin rolled to the side and started battling with her zipper. Her cold and numb fingers were completely useless, all they did was slip and fumble. When she swore viciously she heard Rowan halt in his exit. 
“Are you okay?” He asked. 
Aelin gave up and flopped onto her stomach, she had never felt more like a fish in her whole career as a mermaid. “I can’t get out of my godsdamned tail.”
“Oh. Should I go see if I can find your friend?”
“No.” Aelin blurted out, quite loudly and on the wrong side of desperation. She was ready to start begging. “I need it off, now. Can you help me?”
~~~~~
Rowan just stood there, blinking down at the mermaid sprawled out on his couch. He could see goosebumps raised on her exposed skin, she was obviously freezing. The smartest option was to go and find her friend because he had never once in his life removed anything close to this tail. He didn’t know how, didn’t know where to begin. 
“I feel like this isn’t a job for me,” Rowan said. 
“I feel like a literal popsicle, and I’m not beyond begging right now,” Aelin said, and he swore that her teeth were chattering. 
“If you insist,” Rowan said, leaning down and finding the top of the zipper. 
It might have been the most impressive zipper he had ever seen, sturdy and strong, it had to be to hold the silicone together. Awkwardly unfortunate for him, it sat tight over her ass and it was hard not to touch it in the process. At least the materials were thick and Rowan told himself that was the firmness he was feeling. He tugged the tail down, but everything came to a rushing stop when he caught sight of what Aelin wore underneath. Peeking through the gap between the zipper sides near the top of her hips was a dark blue thong.
“Is it stuck?” Aelin asked with a glance over her shoulder.
Rowan felt his face flush, only deepening his embarrassment. “Ah, no.”
She laughed, maybe at him, maybe it was the situation. “I’m not shy.”
And by the gods did he believe that. Rowan ignored the flaming in his cheeks and the hint of a broad grin on Aelin’s face as she turned back around. “I’ll, uh… close my eyes then.”
Like he said he would, Rowan kept his eyes closed and let the zipper run its natural course. And then he didn’t know where else he was supposed to try and extract it. 
“You have to pull at the hips and then work your way down, then do it all again until it comes all the way off,” she explained. 
“Right,” Rowan said. That would be mighty hard to do with his eyes closed. 
But Rowan gave it his best effort, fumbling between closed eyes and squinting. When there was a tug that gave way more than he was expecting on instinct his eyes opened, a hand flying out to stop himself from falling right on top of Aelin. His hand was lucky, his eyes not so much. He copped an eyeful. 
Just as quickly he shut them, but the damage was done. He wouldn’t be forgetting that sight any time soon. Rowan went back to his task and in the end when she was free enough Aelin ended up kicking the tail off herself. Respectfully he kept his eyes down, rubbing at the back of his neck. 
“There’s a shower you can use, it’ll get you warmed up,” he offered. “There’s clean towels and everything in there.”
“Thank you,” Aelin said. 
Rowan left her to it, and even though she’d undoubtedly take a shower he was still concerned. Back inside the party had died down, mainly just family remaining, so he went to the kitchen and turned the kettle on. While that boiled he went upstairs and retrieved a hoodie. The day had started out fairly warm but without the sun the atmosphere had begun to chill. If she didn’t bring anything with her she’d just catch te cold again. 
By the time he got back down to the kitchen the kettle was done and he filled a mug with water, along with grabbing a few selections of teas. No one noticed him leave and head back to the pool house. Most thankfully Ivy remained oblivious. She was better off not knowing Aelin was out there un-mermaidified and the magic be ruined at the end of such a perfect day. 
Rowan knocked and heard a faint Come in. Aelin was sitting on the couch, dressed in leggings and a loose shirt. She was drying her hair with a towel, looking much better than she had a few minutes before. 
“I brought you some tea,” Rowan said, gesturing to the mug. “And a jumper if you needed it.”
“Thank you.” Aelin took both and slipped the hoodie right over her head. The hood caught on her head and the rest of the fabric drowned her. But she at least looked warm and content. 
Rowan offered the teabags and Aelin took a few moments to decide. She picked and dropped the bag into the awaiting water. 
“You did a great job today,” Rowan offered. “Although you didn’t have to go as one as you did.” 
Aelin picked up the string and bobbed the tea bag up and down. “How could I not? Ivy was having such a good time.”
“Still, it wasn’t something to risk your health over.”
“Not the worst situation I’ve been in,’ Aelin said, taking a sip of her tea and sighed. 
The door opened suddenly and for one sickening moment Rwan thought Ivy might have tracked him down. But instead it was Lysandra, turning up from who knew where to finally help out her friend. 
“Where have you been?” Aelin demanded, putting down her tea. 
Lysandra gave a noncommittal twist of her shoulders. “Here and there.”
“I nearly died,” Aelin said drastically. 
Lysandra actually shot Rowan before looking back at Aelin. “I am sure that’s not what happened.”
“You know what?” Rowan said, cutting through the building tension. “Why don’t I keep an eye out and you guys can head off?”
“Great idea,” Aelin said, putting her mug on the low table and pointing a damning finger at her friend. “If you think you’re getting a cut of the money you’re severely mistaken. You did nothing for me today.”
Lysandra actually laughed at her friend’s theatrics and Rowan decided this would be the best time to leave. He went and stood by the corner of the pool fence where he had a good view of anyone who might be coming outside. It wasn’t long before Aelin and Lysandra left the pool house, a hissed conversation passing between them as they headed for the side gate. Just before disappearing around the side of the house aelin stopped, giving him a broad smile and a wave. Waving back, he had to admit that he was sorry they hadn;t had more time to chat. 
As Rowan watched her disappear from sight he was disappointed that he didn’t have another excuse to see Aelin again. Maybe he would have to take another trip to the aquarium just to see what might happen next if he by pure chance she was there too. 
~~~~~
I’m currently in a quirky hotel room and posting from my iPad so I’m not even going to attempt the disaster that is tagging at the moment.
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