#ok. LOTS of things to unpack here

[3416]

"is the sun important to you" has to be one of the funniest questions ever asked in media availabilities

[abundanced]

//Okay if you're willing I'm also curious for Yaoshi's thoughts on Dan Heng, but particularly because post-companion quest he's studying medicine and healing. ~starlighttrain

@starlighttrain. / about dan heng.

❛ he is ... the reincarnation of the high elder , dan feng. if you ask me , it only seems natural to learn healing from the current high elder. i wonder ... does that boy realize how close he strays to my path ?? and if he knew ... could i guide him onto it ?? ❜

[gas-stxtion-a]

//sorry i haven't been working on replies lately! you see, it's because [mid-sentence i slowly lie down on the floor and start crying really hard. i do not finish my explanation]

[aphel1on]

the longer i look at this panel the more deranged i feel about it. this is environmental storytelling at its finest.

the eodio stand-in doll in particular makes me crazy. where did it come from? did thistle just pop into the village like "hey ungrateful wretches, one of you needs to make me a life-sized mannequin, For Reasons". did he make it himself? seems quite unlikely, yet the possibility haunts me. i mean, i guess there could've been one just lying around the dungeon somewhere. it's the act of replacement itself that really gets to me. (edit: it's been pointed out to me that the eodio doll also could have been left behind as part of delgal's escape plan. slightly different kind of madness but tbh, just as funny-sad to me if that happened and thistle went Ok, Guess That's Eodio Now.)

both the wives are there too. we know very little about them, which makes me tend to assume thistle wasn't all that close to them, but they're still included. when did they end up here? did he kick their souls out of their bodies at some point, or were they among those who left their bodies voluntarily to try and escape? when did yaad become an effective orphan, delgal an effective widower? women in the margins of the narrative, tell me your stories!

and the fact that they're surrounded with the living paintings, which thistle habitually wanders through to relive the past. this truly is his inner sanctum, his place of utmost comfort... and it may as well be a tomb.

that panel is so creepy when you first see it. just a sense of "ohh jeez, there's a lot to unpack there".

and actually, yeah, it remains creepy from pretty much any angle, but the more you think about it the more it's also tragic.

this is where many of thistle's happiest moments took place. everything he had in that picture is now gone. first he lost their warm regard, then one-by-one their bodies became hollow shells. before the end, none of the people here needed or enjoyed food anymore. the dinner table, as a center of both family life and nutrition, became obsolete.

a line from someone else's excellent post about thistle has stuck in my head ever since i read it: "to eat is to live, but to eat together is to be loved". to me, this is the sentiment and symbolism at the core of everything that happens in dungeon meshi.

it makes this bit all the sadder and more disturbing.

there's several things to note here:

thistle has gone from seated and eating with them as part of the family, to a lonely and ominous figure hovering over delgal's shoulder

eodio is conspicuously absent from view, and his body would have been a husk by now, but yaad says parents, which forces me to assume that they are sitting at the table with eodio's soulless body, hidden under yaad's speech bubble

they're not actually eating anything.

those plates are empty. you could assume that they've already finished eating, maybe, but yaad refers to it as sitting around the dinner table. in fact, he compares it to what he's currently doing; sitting at the dinner table watching the touden party eat, not eating anything himself.

it paints a pretty grim picture. for some time even after the fantasy had fallen apart, even after there was no need or desire to eat, they kept gathering around the dinner table. at that point, i'd guess only so as not to provoke thistle's wrath.

but even that last happened a long, long time ago.

this is a callback to what senshi said in the golden kingdom: the reason the people keep maintaining their fields and silverware and so forth is that they need to do so in order to stay sane.

paradoxically, the dinner table is the most striking evidence of thistle's insanity, and at the same time, it's the only anchor to sanity he has left.

he kept enforcing the ritual of dinner together long after it lost significance. when even that was impossible- because almost everyone's souls were gone- he kept their bodies at the table anyway. it's fine. it's fine! he's protected them, physically, just like he set out to. they're all still breathing. at a glance it looks like they could wake up and resume dinner at any moment. like this, it's easy to pretend.

isn't that what being a dungeon lord is, at the core of it? rejecting reality, staying in the prison of one's impossible desires. it's just one long game of pretend.

thistle did all this to protect his loved ones. no matter how obsessive and twisted he became in pursuit of that over the years, his core motivation never changed. this is all he has left of that dream: his loved ones' bodies gathered around the locus of their happiest memories together. like this, he can tell himself he's succeeded.

when eodio's body vanished with delgal's soul in it- when he couldn't even have that anymore... well.

i want to reach through the screen and shake him. no, they're not, thistle. THISTLE, NO, THEY'RE NOT! the doll of eodio is the closest thing to him in this panel, underlining the point. when that final illusion was shattered, he became completely unable to cope with reality.

therefore casually forgetting the creepy eodio doll isn't real.

thistle isn't stupid. eodio's body vanished at the same time as delgal's soul. shortly after, more adventurers came pouring in than ever before. deep down, he knows what happened. if he didn't, being confronted with the truth by mithrun wouldn't have made him panic so hard he summoned chimera falin to the first floor.

yet still...

he absolutely can't admit that to himself. he is clinging to the last scraps of the illusion with everything he has.

this is a dungeon lord at the end of desire. this is a lotus-eater machine left running long after its conclusion. this is mithrun lying listlessly in his bed, his replica lover having given up any pretense of being human. the illusion is all that's left. (an illusion is all it ever was.) thistle and the citizens of the golden kingdom- they're ghosts just as much as the ones who wander the dungeon floors. and if it weren't for thistle sealing the lion away, he would've been eaten by it long ago.

all of this encapsulated by that single panel of the dinner table.

[vroomvroomwee]

Crowley is Lucifer

(Ok I know some of you don't believe this theory but I highly suggest you give this a quick read anyway. I tried to make it short and easy and I'll be going chronologically, from s1 all through s2)

- First, let's get this out of the way, Lucifer and Satan aren't neccesarilly the same person. Even in the show the devil that appeared in s1 has only ever been reffered to as Satan, not even once as Lucifer.

- In the bible Lucifer was the one to tempt Eve with the apple, and who do we know that does that in the show. Crowley is literally THE snake from Eden.

- An obvious one perhaps, but the red hair is also a giveaway

- In the bible Jesus was tempted by the devil for 30 days, in the show Crowley says "I showed him all the kingdoms of the world", so that's another role Lucifer has that Crowley had in the show

- It's well known (even mentioned in the Sandman) that Lucifer was the most beautiful of all angels, and our demon is played by no other than David Tennant

Now on to season 2 because there's a LOT to unpack here

- He litterally started the engine of the universe which was one of Lucifers roles

- He's the first to say "let there be light", which is pretty fucking huge since that is Gods line

- "I worked closely with upstairs on it" even in the first scene they're telling us Crowley is an angel of very very high rank

- He fell for asking questions, which is litterally what Lucifer fell for, for questioning God. This in and of itself should be a pretty big indicator. "I only ever asked questions"

- Shax: "a miracle of enourmous power only the mightiest of archangels can perform"

Crowley: "How do you know I didn't do it"

And Shax just... doesn't counter that. She looks even skeptical, as if it COULD be a possibility, unlike Uriel who says to Aziraphale don't excpect us to believe you did it. Shax litterally doesn't shut the option down which confirms Crowley has the power not only of an archangel but of the mightiest kind

- In the bookshop with Gabriel/Jim he says "I don't remember. It [gravity] seemed like a good idea when we were all talking about it"

- "You're welcome to come in, you might even spot an archangel" don't tell me this was Crowley just egging Shax on and not being sneaky

- The fact that he could sense the demons coming. "Somethings wrong""It's coming in waves", when Aziraphale couldn't. It could be a demon thing but we saw Sandalphon, an archangel of lower rank, in the first season mention "something smells evil" so obviously angels can sense demons too, they just have to be powerful enough. And keep in mind Sandalphon was already in the book shop for quite some time, Crowley sensed them even before they had arrived (he also sensed the hell hound who was some fucking miles away)

- The.fucking.folder. "You have to be a throne or dominion above" and this dude opens these clasified documents like it's nothing. If this isn't an indicator of his high position as an angel I don't know what is.

- He's worked with Saraqael, another very high ranking angel

- "I'm the only first order archangel in the room"... and the camera imediately pans to Crowley, and for anyone who's read the book and watched the show you know that rarely anything is coincidental

- When the Metatron says they can't lose another prince of heaven. This... this fucking line. So it's relatively well known that Gabriel and Lucifer are brothers, and if Gabriel is one of the princes of heaven I wonder who the other one could be. "Two princes of heaven". And the Metatrons words were very careful, he doesn't say lost as in heaven can't find him, he says it in the context that they won't be sending Gabriel to hell since they won't lose another prince to downstairs

- In the bookshop when no one can identify the Metatron he turns to Crowley who imediately recognises him. Now you have this dude, who's literally on top of the angel hierarchy and is responsible for running heaven and the connection to God themself, surrounded by archangels and a principality you spoke to face to face with just a few years ago and... none of them can tell who you are, the only one who does is the literal demon. That tells us that Crowley has not only seen him in this form, but has probably worked with the Metaron himself personally. "Always asking damn fool questions", 10 million angels and he remembers what this one particular angel was like 6000 years ago

- Crowley is also very reluctant to reveal his identity as an angel. Now if he were just an ordinary angel of no real significance he wouldn't have a problem revealing his name, but... if his name was one that's the literal representation of all evil in this world, then it is understandable he keeps it a secret, in fear he might scare Aziraphale away

- And I wanted to leave the best for last. So you remember in the book when Crowley has to sign his name to start Armaggedon, and Hastur tells him "no, your real name" after which he reluctantly writes it. Now in the book we never see him write anything, but in the show we see him write a sygil, something that looks very mich like an L. An L... A FUCKING L. And now I wonder how this theory didn't come up sooner.

(Also he can fucking stop time, like dafuq)

Edit:

- "Oh looky here it's Lucifer and the guys" we all thought he was talking about someone else, he's just refferencing things other angels have said about HIM. FUCK

- I keep seing people saying Crowleys memories were wiped because he couldn't remember Saraqael and Furfur. But I think people forget, demons lie. He's lying to make them think he's not that angel they worked with, that he's not Lucifer. (In season 1 we hear him a few times refferencing his life as an angel, so he does remember most of it)

- Also saying if the Raphael theory were true then as showrunners they would have mentioned him somewhere for those not that familiar with the bible (or don't read much fanfiction). The refferences for Crowleys past are so so vague that it would be too sudden and confusing if he were Raphael. But there is one name that everyone is familiar with, no matter who you are how old you are or where you're from, a name that needs no introduction.

Edit 2:

- Back to him being the most beautiful angel, I don't think it was ever quite explained how every single demon when they're in hell looks... awful, but Crowley doesn't. Beelzebub has the spores all over their face, Hastur the maggots and the sh-, Dagon the scales etc. But Crowley doesn't, not even when he's in hell, he's always just so, well, pretty.

- I saw a few people asking about how Lucifer started the rebellion and Crowley wouldn't do that. I think it's the same Crowley who wouldn't get stuck in traffic after creating the M25, or the same Crowley that wanted to call Aziraphale after bringing down the entire London network, "you told them you invented the spanish inquisition, and started the second world war""so the humans beat me to it that's not my fault", "so all this is your demonic work?""no, the humans thought it up themselves nothing to do with me"

- Also I think Satan's in charge of hell not Crowley the same way the Metatron's in charge of heaven and not Gabriel (and who can very easily demote angels if he so wishes)

Edit 3:

- like some of you pointed out Lucifer is also known/means Light-bringer. And Crowley was the first to say "let there be light."

- The file he opens with Muriel is Gabriels file, a class A archangel, so if he knows the password to that it means that either he's on the same level as Gabriel, or above him.

[sunsburns]

and i make you (sick)

pairing: ex!luke castellan x woc!reader

content summary: social media au where you and luke broke up but he's not over you... and you don't think you're over him either. also everyone is clowning luke.

—or: your ex keeps posting to get your attention

author’s note: this is so silly and stupid and so unserious pls bear with me

part one: you make me (sick)

♫ Clouded by Brent Faiyaz

♡ liked by connerstoll , sallyjackson , and others

lukecastellan recently, i guess

view comments

chrisrodriguez pls stop posting my girl is on this app 🤧🙏

clarriselarue that’s not something you need to worry about.

travisstoll leave me alone please 😖😖

charlesbeckenoff you gotta let brent faiyaz go man

lukecastellan i can’t. he’s part of me now

clarriselarue and you just had the urge to post? again?

lukecastellan i figured my friends would like another post

clarriselarue are the friends in the room with us?

annabethchase leave him alone plss 😭 i can’t keep up with defending him

groverunderwood who is this diva??

liked by lukecastellan

percyjackson planting? flowers? 🤔

lukecastellan well yes!

percyjackson woah okay lose the sass 😒

lukecastellan didn’t realize i had any

percyjackson not funny didn’t laugh.

lukecastellan your mom thought it was funny, she also liked this post

groverunderwood that’s fucking crazy 💀💀

connerstoll percy is fuming right now LMFSO 😭😭

yourusername do you do weddings?

silenabeauregard HELP LMFAP

clarisselarue yourusername girl what r u doing here?? 😭

yourusername i’m on a mission

silenabeauregard mission? to do what????

lukecastellan to do ME 😆

this comment was deleted

yourusername lukecastellan i hate you.

lukecastellan i think i’ll be okay 😪

┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 

you just posted on your story!

annabethchase replied to your story

DIRECT MESSAGES

annabethchase: you don’t wear converse.

yourusername: ???

annabethchase: that’s not your foot. and it’s not percy’s either cause he wears vans.

yourusername: wow… there is a lot to unpack here. i’m not even gonna ask or try

yourusername: but if you must know i’m changing it up a little

yourusername: trying new things

annabethchase: you always wear new balance because you swear converse are uncomfortable but okay sure let’s say that

yourusername: annie please 😭

yourusername: not you going detective on me

annabethchase: just sayingg 😒

annabethchase: also!

annabethchase: is that the old hiking trail by my house?

yourusername: what? ofc not

yourusername: it’s some other trail

annabethchase: girl.

yourusername: i’m being fr!

annabethchase: ok.

yourusername: maybe i went back for a lil hike

yourusername: for the memories

yourusername: remember when i used to babysit percy and we would come over??

yourusername: and you guys would climb the trees 🥹

yourusername: and grover would take a shit ton of pictures

yourusername: u guys were adorable

annabethchase: omg stfu cause i also remember you and luke making out there too 😐

yourusername: bro 😶

annabethchase: if ur seeing my brother again just say so cause u left ur shirt & charger here

yourusername: do u wanna go out and chat and have a girls day 😁

annabethchase: sure. pick me up in twenty minutes. i’ll have your stuff ready.

┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 

♫ Ant Pile by Dominic Fike

♡ liked by silenabeauregard , lukecastellan , and others

( tagged : annebethchase )

yourusername minibeth & date nights

view comments

clarisselarue ughh gorggg

annabethchase wait cause why did our makeup eat...

yourusername lowkeyyyy i’m loving blue lately

percyjackson it’s because of me ofc 💙

yourusername yes, percy, it’s because of you

groverunderwood ate!

lukecastellan that fuckass bag is everywhere

yourusername god forbid a girl likes a nice bag ffs

lukecastellan using it the way it was intended i guess

yourusername get tf out of my comment section.

silenabeauregard looking real good in that last pic...

yourusername is it my final one?? why are you typing like that??

┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 

DIRECT MESSAGES -- the gods’ fav girls + grover ✨

silenabeauregard: you do think i’m stupid...

yourusername: what is this? 🤨

clarisselarue: an intervention

groverunderwood: omg 😆

silenabeauregard: whats ur deal??

clarisselarue: why are you being so cutesty with luke again?

groverunderwood: #not mindful #not demure

silenabeauregard: are you guys hooking up again????

yourusername: woah

annabethchase: we should do this some other time pls

yourusername: i have company right now

silenabeauregard: is it luke??

yourusername: no it’s percy 🥲 sally brought him over cause he’s being annoying again

yourusername: and i can’t have percy looking over MY shoulder and reading this 😭

yourusername: he’s gonna bully me so hard

clarisselarue: so you admit ur hooking up with luke again??

yourusername: do you think i should? 😏

clarisselarue: uh no.

yourusername: why not?

silenabeauregard: cause you love him so bad and it’s gonna hurt your feelings if ur just friends with benefits

yourusername: right ofc ofc

yourusername: you’re so right. i’m sooo in love with him like it’s crazyyyyyy ❤️���😝💞

yourusername: he’s so pretty and strong and he takes really good pics of me and i think he loves me too 🤔

yourusername: like we couldn’t stay friends cause we’re still in love 😻

clarisselarue: why are you being weird 😭😭😭

silenabeauregard: i actually didn’t think you would admit it that easily but i’ll take this win

clarisselarue: no i swear she’s being weird

silenabeauregard: she’s said weirder

yourusername: like what?

silenabeauregard: like how u want his babies???

yourusername: OH OKANDJAJ

annabethchase: hey so this is insane actually

groverunderwood: I’M DEAD LIKE 😭😭

yourusername: GROVER ARE THEY BEING FR??

groverunderwood: HELP LMFAO IS THIS PERCY??

clarisselarue: what???

yourusername: no nothing i just love luke sooo much and i want his babies soo bad and he’s sooo hot and i try to be soo unbothered but in reality i’m so bothered 🥹

yourusername: hey also this IS luke & friends 😆

silenabeauregard: OH MY GOD???

clarisselarue: NOO WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?? GROVER??

groverunderwood: she’s with me and annabeth actually ☝🏽

annabethchase: looking for her phone 😐

annabethchase: i think we’ve found it.

yourusername: very honoured to have been apart of this chat ladies + grover 🫡 - luke, percy & chris.

silenabeauregard: why didn’t you guys say anything 🙁

groverunderwood: wanted to see how long it would go on for before you noticed

annabethchase: had a bet for 5 minutes and would’ve won if they never sent a picture 😒

clarisselarue: why would yall lie like that 🥲

groverunderwood: technically no lies were told if you reread the messages…

┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 

♫ Mona Lisa by Dominic Fike

♡ liked by silenabeauregard , yourusername , and others

lukecastellan chillin .

view comments

clarisselarue: why is he getting better at photo dumps...

silenabeauregard: cause he’s not taking his own pics anymore

clarisselarue: oh so true

lukecastellan untrue!

chrisrodriguez don't listen to them your posts have always been good!! lukecastellan

liked by lukecastellan

travisscroll luke GLAZERRR

percyjackson i'm trying so hard to hate this but i can't

lukecastellan thank you!

annabethchase: i know that bag anywhere yourusername

groverunderwood: not slick at all 😒

yourusername wrap it up it's so over

lukecastellan i was having fun

yourusername i was not.

lukecastellan ur crazy for me

yourusername you make me sick

yourusername that mirror selfie tho...🤒

liked by lukecastellan

┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 

lukecastellan mentioned you on their story!

you replied to this story

DIRECT MESSAGES

yourusername: wait i can’t believe you hard launched first 😻

lukecastellan: is that what we were doing?

yourusername: okay purr my insta king

lukecastellan: please talk to me normally

yourusername: come over and i’ll do more than just talking

lukecastellan: be there in 10 🫡

┊ ┊ ⋆˚ 

♫ Sick by Dominic Fike

♡ liked by silenabeauregard , lukecastellan , and others

( tagged : lukecastellan )

yourusername cat’s out of the bag...

view comments

annabethchase was it ever in the bag to begin with?

yourusername okay damn

percyjackson put it back in the bag please.

yourusername what are you being messy for? i literally changed ur diapers

percyjackson CHILL

clarriselarue YUCK! (i’m happy for you...)

yourusername doesn’t feel like it but thank u 😊🫶🏽

clarriselarue i swear i am i’m just jealous

lukecastellan you literally have a whole mans tho??

chrisrodriguez it’s okay i’m used to it

connerstoll this is making ME sick

yourusername okay jokes over we get it dominic fike

lukecastellan wow ur so gorgeous i hope ur boyfriend can fight

yourusername he can’t fight but he bites!

lukecastellan huh?? 😭

yourusername he might nibble you a bit

lukecastellan girl u crazy i can’t tell if i’m into it or not (i am sooo into you)

yourusername ilyyy ❤️

[soft4gguk]

to build a home | chapter twelve

Pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

Genre: strangers to lovers. angst. fluff. smut.

Word count: 18k (hehe)

Warnings: this is so long i don’t know that i remember every single thing i must’ve included here but i’ll try my best lol. angst!! this is a very angsty chappie but it’s needed ok? so sad so sexy oc. jungkook is a dick twice!! for like a second but its bc he’s scared :( & stressed. Unprotected sex (don't!!! xo). they dirty talk a lot acc. i think thats it? i hope thats it lol. 

Author’s note: it’s a sunday and we have a new tbah chapter!! thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart for waiting. and for giving me such a warm welcome and giving my writing so much love, even amidst my absence. i really hope you guys enjoy this installment of to build a home! i poured my heart on this and i enjoyed it so, so much. it felt like the good old days!! do let me know what you thought - i feel like there’s so much to UNPACK for this one. i love you guys x a million. thank u for reading <3 

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter Twelve

The sun stirs you awake this morning, its rays sneaking their way inside your room with every gust of wind that makes the curtains dance and the moment you regain the smallest bit of consciousness, you know it’s too early. You’re not meant to be awake for another hour or so but after a minute of tossing and turning, you begin to feel the sleep drift out of you. Your mind fills with thoughts and things to do, feelings and their unresolved natures. It’s Monday, after all, lots to do, lots to feel and certainly lots to confront. 

You slip out of the comfort of your blankets and pillows, putting your headphones over your head and pressing shuffle on the first playlist you find, cranking the volume a little too high in hopes that it will quieten the sea of thoughts that begin to whirlwind inside your mind. You make your way to the kitchen and almost miss the peace and quiet of six a.m., specially here. When the world is still asleep and it’s just you and you can let yourself fall into the long process of making yourself a cup of coffee. More than a process, you’d call it a ritual. You find it good to just stare at your hands at work, resilient in providing sweet satisfaction in a matter of minutes. And so, despite the lack of peace and quiet this morning provides, you get to work. Grinding the coffee beans until they’re silky smooth, pouring the water into the bottom of your italian press and putting it all back together to rest at the stove top. Until all there’s left to do is wait. Wait, wait, wait… 

“I love you.”

You wish it was those mere words that were pressing on you. But it was more. It was the way you felt his body weight on top of yours grow tense. The way the seconds felt like minutes, and then hours, until not even in proximity could you feel him close. How the air felt dense around you and your nerves got the best of you. 

“You don’t have to say it back. I’d say it was a heat of the moment thing but… I don’t think that makes any difference.” 

It all echoes inside of your head. Inside of your chest. Your words, the stutter, the awkward laughter that followed as you tried to brace yourself for whatever came next. Only nothing did. 

He didn’t say it back. 

He didn’t say it back when the high came down and you both wrapped your bodies around each other. He didn’t say it back as he kissed you, slowly and with that lazy characteristic that takes on when he’s sleepy, but not less filled with intention. He fell asleep first, his body impossibly flushed to yours, your fingers carded in his hair for hours as you laid awake, unable to reconcile sleep. 

He didn’t say it back when his lips on your cheeks woke you up the next morning. It was sweet, your mind blank with the exception of the bliss his touch basked you in. He kissed and touched, he pleased. But he didn’t say it back. 

He didn’t say it back throughout the day but by then your mind had fallen at ease, taking you by surprise, even. It was a lazy Sunday morning that turned into a lazy Sunday afternoon, nothing but peace and leisure as the three of you spent the day by the pool. Snacking on whatever the season had turned ripe and sweet. It was a perfect summer day and as Soori splashed about and you looked into each other’s eyes in pride and joy, you thought that maybe, just maybe, he was trying to tell you.

But he didn’t say it back. Not when you said goodbye after putting Soori to sleep, not when he kissed you and said he’d see you tomorrow. Not when you turned around, stealing one last glance at him, lingering for a second too long in awe of his beauty as he smiled and leaned by his doorframe, taking you in. Not even when he called you to make sure you’d gotten home safe and his silence and yours filled the line right as you were about to hang up. And then you didn’t, and you waited, until the line disconnected. 

Your coffee overheats as you go back and forth, one cruel thought after the other, and it’s the lid jumping and splashing the liquid everywhere that brings you back to your small kitchen. 

“Shit.” You remove the pot from the stove and let it rest for a minute as you clean up the mess. Getting lost in your thoughts again because, hey, at least you woke up early, so as to give you enough time to let the overthinking make you clumsy. 

Ten different things go wrong before you’re finally able to sit down on your couch, freshly brewed iced americano in one hand, your journal and pen in another. All you need to do is let your thoughts leave you. Yes, that’s exactly what you need to do. You need to come back to yourself as you sip your coffee slowly and fill an entire page worth of your feelings. It’s catharsis in it’s purest form. A foul-proof method, at that. 

Only it isn’t. You fill the pages with sentences like,

Why didn’t he say it?

I should’ve not acted like it meant nothing to me. It meant the world to me. 

He means the world to me.

I love him. 

Does he not love me back?

And the one that filled the pages the most,

Why doesn’t he love me back?

And by the time you’re ready to leave the house, you’re still a ball of unresolved emotions and a chaotic neutral feeling taking over your every being because all you want to do is scream but you’re running late to see the root of all your problems. 

~

Thankfully, the root of all your problems walks inside his kitchen that morning holding what you believe is the cure of all that is wrong in the world: his daughter. 

“Oh my God, you look so cute,” and she does. A smile that makes you melt, two pigtails held by tiny pink bows and an oversized Winnie The Pooh t-shirt that brings her whole look together. “Good morning, baby.”

The moment she falls into your arms you feel an ease run through you that makes you submit to the harsh edges of the world, waving white flag. She’s foul-proof magic and method. 

“Good morning,” he says, giving you a smile that almost washes away your uncertainties. 

“Good morning.” You take Soori from his arms and return the smile, but he can tell it’s not quite there yet. Not that he thinks much of it – your morning meet ups in the kitchen are always cordial but not overly so, you wouldn’t want Mrs. Chae to suspect anything. – 

“I have a busy week coming up.”

“You do?” It’s a question that translates to, you didn’t mention that and Jungkook doesn’t miss it in your tone. 

 “Yeah. So I’ll probably be home a bit late. No more than an hour, though, is that okay?”

“Sure.”

“Great. Thanks!” He’s nonchalant as he walks up to the kitchen island, greeting Mrs. Chae and moving quickly through his iced americano. 

He leans against the counter, scrolling down his phone, not a care in the world. A particular sip has him choking on his coffee and he coughs a little. Inside, you smile. And yes, that’s not the proudest you’ve been of a feeling but can you be blamed? He doesn’t look like his coffee splashed all over his kitchen counter this morning because he couldn’t stop thinking about how he confessed his love to you and you didn’t say it back. Matter of fact, not saying it back is the least of your concerns. He didn’t say anything! No reaction, nothing. You hope he chokes on his coffee again. It’s harmless, in your defense, most women would be hoping for bloodier, more treacherous things. He’s lucky you don’t- 

“‘Kay. Gotta go. Have a nice day, Mrs. Chae!” He walks over to you, taking Soori from your arms and showering her cheeks with kisses as he makes his way to the doorway. She’s getting better at the goodbye part of the mornings but Mondays are always tricky. 

“Have a nice day.” You smile, a bit forcibly. 

“Aw,” he frowns, pouting, and you think he almost gets it, but no. “You tired, baby? Mondays can be hard.”

You want to gasp. No, really, it takes all the strength in you not to gasp. “Yeah, slept horribly, actually.”

“Take it easy today. You two should take a nap in my bed.” You nod and agree and he hugs you after he passes Soori to you, pulling her in as well. It’s a little three-way-hug and it makes your heart feel a little comfort, even amidst the chaos. 

“You take it easy, too.” Your hand finds his and you squeeze, even if for a second. 

“Bye, baby.” He kisses you. “Bye, baby!” He kisses Soori. And off he goes. 

This is pretty much what your entire week looks like. Going to bed late, head swimming in thoughts. Waking up an hour before your alarm rings, head swimming in the said thoughts. Breakfast before Lucy is up, so you can leave right as she wakes up, because a part of you knows she’d know, and that you couldn’t handle it. Lucy cares. Lucy would ask you a thousand questions, or encourage you to talk about it, or she would simply wrap you up in a hug that would send tears to your eyes that would turn into full on sobs by the time she was done putting her loving on you. So you lie to her; tell her Jungkook needs to be at the office earlier this week, and she buys it, no questions asked. 

 You walk half of your commute, and then take the bus, mainly to kill time. On Wednesday you think you could probably just take the bus right away, be early, make up some excuse to Mrs. Chae and go up the stairs, to his bedroom. You could watch Soori for him as he gets ready, you could take him in as he prepares for the day, you could ask him to be five minutes late so he can kiss you silly and extinguish the fire of doubt that keeps growing thicker, taller flames inside your heart. But, could you? Could you do all that? Have you fallen into enough familiarity as to do that? You thought you had, now you’re not so sure. 

Spiraling. That’s what your week looks like. You meet him in the kitchen, bask in the peace Soori brings you the moment she wraps her arms around you (she’s a hugger now) and try to suppress the witty remarks that threaten to leave your mouth, fueled by sarcasm and anger, every time you speak to him. But most days, you’re just sad. So sad you have to fake a smile, or make a grand effort to hold a conversation. Not that you have many. Jungkook is busy, morning and night. Something about a new property they’re getting ready to acquire - a future addition to The West End Collection. Each day the stress and tiredness reflects on him more, his energy plummeting. He says something about timezones and having to reply to emails at three a.m. so you assume it’s an international transaction. Nonetheless, it’s all assumption, you guys barely talk. And you get it. Jungkook is a busy man – he owns hotels, for Christ’s Sake! – And under any other circumstance, his distance and your lack of communication combined wouldn’t worry you, it’d simply be that, circumstantial. But right now, all it does is fuel the overthinking and self-doubt.

But then it’s midday and you remember how he kissed you in the morning before he left, and your thoughts quieten. Instead, they’re replaced by that pink, fuzzy feeling that your body recognizes as him. The feeling that belongs to him and him only. And on the bus ride home you replay the way he kissed you goodbye, no one around you, and able to take his time. His hand resting on your cheek, his lips parting your mouth, the small sigh of relief that never fails to leave him whenever he deepens the kiss. This cloud of comfort the memories put you in inevitably land you back to square one, simply for the fact that they remind you of the one thing that presses on to your heart the most: you love him. 

~

By the time Friday rolls around, you’re so exhausted from the marathon taking place inside your head that the moment you make it home, aided by the quiet and solitude that falls into your apartment – courtesy of date night for Lucy and Jimin – your body starts to ache from exhaustion. 

You change into an old t-shirt and shorts, put your hair up in a bun and decide you will be treating yourself to take out. You get cozy, blanket tucked under you as Gilmore Girls – your comfort show – plays on the TV. Scrolling lazily through the food delivery apps, you ponder on what to eat. You want something that screams sad girl stays home because non-reciprocated love is too heavy of a burden to bear. Pizza, pasta, a burger. Maybe some ramen! Or a burrito, that never fails. Or perhaps just dessert. Perhaps that’s what you need. A shock to the body in the form of sugar. But amidst your indecision your lids fall heavy and you’re out cold before the clock can mark eight p.m. 

And you sleep. You sleep through the night, a deep, dreamless slumber that makes you pay for all the sleepless nights you put your body through. You barely move an inch throughout the night, Gilmore Girls serving as a soft lullaby in the background until Netflix gathers that you are not, as a matter of fact, still watching. You could probably sleep through the morning, and if you really tried, you could probably sleep through the afternoon if you cozied yourself up just right, but the universe has other plans. More like, Lucy and Jimin have other plans. In their defense, you are running late for book club. 

Their hushed little giggles as they enter the house is the first thing you hear in the depths of your subconscious as the noise attempts to stir you awake. But it’s to no avail. Your mind ignores it eventually after it goes on for a minute too long. The second attempt is their hushed chit chat that takes one too many pauses as it gets lost in the giggles and pecks they share in between. 

“Shhh. You’re gonna wake __ up!” It’s Jimin, your subconscious recognizes that much. 

“Hmm,” more giggles. “She should be in the shower right about now. She has book club, remember?”

“Shit, that’s true! Hey, we can fuck in the kitchen again?” 

“Jimin, oh my god. Shhh!”

You frown, but your mind refuses to fully wake up. 

It’s the wet noise from their kisses that finally do it, at a third triumphant attempt. You jolt awake, turning to the direction of the kitchen where you see the image that matches the dirty little noises they make. Lucy opens her eyes for a split second as Jimin presses her against the counter and she all but screams when she sees your head peeking from the sofa, hair a mess and a scowl painting your features. Jimin shrieks follow a second later. 

“Shh. Shhhh!” you say. “What time is it?”

“It’s 9:15!” Lucy yells, still startled. “What are you doing here? Are you feeling okay? You look… under the weather.”

“Yeah __ you look rough,” Jimin says. 

“Aren’t you two just sweet? I fell asleep on the couch,” you stumble as you make your way to your bedroom, still groggy from sleep. “Shit. I’m gonna be so late.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make you some coffee and a sandwich to-go,” Lucy says, peeking inside your bedroom. 

“Thank you, Lu. You’re the best.” You brush through your hair, incredulous as to how it got so messy through the night. 

“Of course,” she says, lingering in your doorframe. “But seriously __, are you doing alright? I’ve barely seen you this week.”

“Yeah. Yes. I’m fine. Long hours at work, that’s all.”

She smiles. “I’m gonna tell Jungkook not to work you too hard when I see him today.” You look at her, confusion lacing your features. “Dae’s birthday party, remember?”

“Oh, shit. That’s today. I totally forgot.” 

Now it’s Lucy’s turn to look confused. And rightfully so. I mean, what would warrant a reaction like the one you just had? You love Dae. And she knows that any excuse to see Jungkook puts a giddy, little smile on your face, like a teenage girl. She calls it the puppy love stage, and is convinced you’re deep into it. You can’t blame her. A week ago you would have agreed. But today you were hoping you could avoid all thoughts of him. Come up with some excuse, tell him you’re feeling a bit under the weather and that you’d take the weekend to recover. But your plans of drowning your feelings in pizza, ice cream and Gilmore Girls (not necessarily in that order) just tumbled to the ground. You do, in fact, love Dae and wouldn’t miss his birthday party for the world. 

“I’ll just be a little late,” you smile, disguising your thoughts. “So, you know, I can come back and shower, seeing as I won’t have time to do that.”

You’re not entirely sure she buys it, but she offers you a smile and heads to the kitchen to make you breakfast. That act alone makes you want to cry. 

It’s gonna be a long day. 

~

It’s a beautiful, sunny day. Perfect for a pool party. Mai had hired a very capable catering company that was in charge of feeding both the adults and the kids at Dae’s birthday party, but Taehyung had gotten a new grill and he could find no better day to break it in than today. And even though she insisted, it was to no avail. They were grilling – the finest cuts of steak, at that – and opening the nicest bottles of wine. His first born was turning five and they had a second one on the way! He takes a minute to take it all in, sighing in pure, blissful satisfaction. There was only one person whose grilling skills could come close to his, and he knows that much because he taught him. 

“What a good day, isn’t it, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook nods, taking a sip of his red wine as his eyes scan the scene before him. Kids running around everywhere, scattered all over Mai and Taehyung’s garden. A huge bouncy castle with a water slide happened to be the main entertainment of the day, making him question how he was going to top it up with his Iron Man act. His friends all gathered to celebrate Dae, whom he loved and couldn’t believe was turning five. He also couldn’t believe he was still a bachelor when he was born, not envious of his friend’s new lifestyle, and now… well, look at him now! His eyes scan the place for Soori, who’s in Kenny’s lap as her cousins play around her. She smiles and claps, eyes wide as she kicks and screams in joy and he can’t believe she’ll be able to keep up with them soon. 

“Can you believe we’re dads?”

“In awe of it every day, actually. Can you believe we’re actually good at it?” Taehyung looks at Jungkook, who’s deep in thought. 

“No. Takes me by surprise every day,” he says, and Taehyung likes the way Jungkook gives himself credit, despite it all. 

“Can you believe Jimin is well on his way to settle down?” Taehyung says, gaze diverting forward. Jungkook follows his line of vision and understands exactly what he’s talking about. There they are, Jimin and Lucy. 

“About time.” And he’s only half joking, but the truth is, Jungkook hadn’t seen his friend this happy in years, and he’s got Lucy to thank for that. They all do. 

“Aw, imagine how cute their babies will look like,” Taehyung says, earning himself a frown from Jungkook.

“Keep your baby fever in your pants, please.”

“Oh, if only you knew.”

Jungkook looks at him and it takes him all but a second to know what he’s talking about. 

“Really?” Taehyung just shrugs, but he smiles bright and big, and his happiness is contagious. “Bro, seriously. You have to learn to shut your mouth. Mai is gonna kill you! Again!” and of course, Jungkook is alluding to the very first secret Taehyung couldn’t keep from his best friend. That first secret is turning five today. 

“Don’t tell her I told you, bro.” He sounds like a child, and Jungkook can’t believe he’s officially a dad of two. 

“Oh, I so will.”

“Fucking traitor.” He says. 

“Hey, congratulations. I’m so happy for you guys.” 

Taehyung brings him in for a hug and it ends as quickly as it begins. “Shh, sh. She’s looking this way, act cool.”

“A fucking child.” 

“You’re the child! I’m older than you by almost two-”

Jimin walks behind them, taking them by surprise when he throws his arms around their shoulders. “Children, please. Settle down.” 

Lucy giggles, rolling her eyes at her boyfriend’s goofy nature. She loves that about him. Matter of fact, she’d just told him, for the very first time, that she loved everything about him. That she loved him. This came after Jimin had blurted it out, in the middle of a very mild argument over the best Shrek movie. She loved him so much she’d decided to overlook the fact he said it was the fourth. Everyone knows it’s the second. 

“Funny. We were just talking about you.” Taehyung says. 

“Nothing but compliments and praises, I’d imagine!” He says. His friends both shrug at the same time, earning themselves a scowl from him. 

Jungkook turns to Lucy, smiling at her before asking, “Hey, have you heard from __? She told me she’d be here.”

“Oh, she overslept this morning, didn’t even have time to shower. So she just went home to freshen up before the party.” Lucy replies, finding it a bit odd that he isn’t aware of your whereabouts. 

“Ah,” he ponders on this for a minute. “I see.”

“I’m sure she’ll be here soon.” Her smile is kind, almost like she knows. And oh, she knows. Only she can’t put her finger on it entirely. She knows something’s mildly off, but everything seemed fine at surface level. Ultimately, she didn’t want to pry – knew that often her overthinking led her to worry for no reason – but also, her gut was almost never wrong. 

Jimin’s voice brings her back from her mental gymnastics. 

“Babe, let’s go get our bathing suits on! I’m so going on that bouncy castle.” 

“Please don’t do anything stupid. And don’t break the bouncy castle, the deposit on it alone was more than your Saint Laurent boots.” Taehyung tells him, nonchalantly, back at work on the grill. 

“Bro, it’s like, 30 degrees outside. Take those off.” Jungkook adds. 

“Do not address me, flip flop man.” 

Taehyung’s head snaps. “Hey, what’s wrong with flip flops?”

Jimin scans him from head to toe, stopping at his feet. “Everything.” And like that, he’s gone. 

Taehyung and Jungkook return to grilling duties, diligently at work and in total silence for a couple of minutes, so as to recover from Jimin’s brutal abuse towards their choice of shoewear. 

It’s Taehyung that breaks the silence first. 

“So… you and __, seems like it’s getting pretty serious, huh? Plus, you’re happy. I can tell. We all can, to be fair.”

He laughs, and when he does, it has a bite to it Taehyung wasn’t expecting. “So, I get laid and it shows?”

Jungkook doesn’t mean it. Not the words he uttered, or the edge that laces his voice. Not even the breath he took right before he spewed their venom. He regrets it the moment they leave him. 

Taehyung winces. “What the hell was that, man?”

“What exactly?”

“I’d like to believe you’ve passed the point of just fucking ___.” Taehyung can’t even call you the nanny anymore, his words faltering for a second before saying your name. 

Jungkook chuckles, and again, he doesn’t mean it. His friend can tell, which concerns him more. He wouldn’t press if he didn’t know he was lying through his teeth, lacing it with fire just to reinforce a point he didn’t believe himself. 

“So, when she stays the night, what exactly do you think we do?”

Taehyung shakes his head and it’s him who’s chuckling this time. “You’re such a pussy.”

Jungkook’s head snaps fast, an immediate frown taking over his features. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it fucking means. You’re a pussy. Love looks you right in the eyes and you fall into the most cliché tale of fearing it so much it makes you, quite frankly, an asshole.” Jungkook winces at the word love, though Taehyung doesn’t notice – heavily invested in shaking some sense into him. 

“I’m not going to sit here and pretend what it feels like,” he continues, voice taking on a softer tone. “To lose something so abruptly that it makes you feel like everything that follows will hold the same fate. You didn’t have a choice – when you gathered all that strength and courage for Soori, you didn’t have a choice. You gave her love when life was throwing the opposite your way, that was brave. Do the same for yourself. That same courage, choose it.” He throws a punch at his chest, right where his heart is – it’s not forceful but it makes the youngest tumble backwards slightly.

Jungkook stares at his friend, his heart taking on a wave of feelings that pass him by too quickly for him to grasp, let alone process. It’s anger first, sadness following, and when it crashes, they land in fear. Square one, too weak to say much, he just stares at Taehyung – his expression dumbfounded but above all, pained. 

For a second, as Taehyung stares into his eyes, he sees a wide-eyed twenty-year-old Jungkook. Puffy cheeks and cherry hair, a heartthrob to everyone’s knowledge but his own, making him all that more charming. Jungkook tries to find words – anything to form a shield, to dismiss his friend’s words and take the easy route out of this conversation, this feeling, you. But in an instant, he’s reminded of how hard “easy” can be. How much pain comes with the strain of fighting and how the other side of that pain can be almost sweet – vulnerability. 

The words that follow make Taehyung feel nostalgic. 

“I talked to my dad – well, more like- he talked to me.” Taehyung nods, already knowing where this is going. “He knows. About __.”

“Okay… and what seems to be the problem?”

“In his eyes, everything. It almost felt like he was putting some sort of blame on me, for everything that happened with Ira. How it affected our family,” Jungkook pauses, the word family leaving his lips in a tremble. “They think she’s going to cause the same societal hysteria – if not worse. The CEO dating the nanny.” He huffs, shaking his head in disbelief and even though he laughs, it lacks humor. 

Taehyung’s one for big words but quite frankly, what he says next is the most accurate answer he can find, looking at his friend in the eyes as he says, “So?”

Jungkook looks at him, hesitating for a moment. “What do you mean so?”

“I don’t believe for a second that you just took his opinion and went with it. I don’t believe for a second you just agreed with him. Not even to get him to stop talking. I know you better than that.”

“I didn’t.”

“Exactly. So, what seems so be the problem, because your parents trying to discipline the twenty-eight-year-old? I’m not buying it.” Jungkook holds his gaze for a second before it drops to the floor, shoulders dropping in defeat as a sigh follows. “Life gets hard and the way things come to be, the circumstances we face, yeah – those are hard. But never loving. Loving is easy. That’s why it’s worth it.” 

Jungkook’s about to tell him that a week ago, you told him you loved him, and that he didn’t quite know if you meant it. He’s about to tell him that he didn’t say it back – that fear got the best of him. That all the possibilities of everything that could go wrong presented themselves to him like a movie. Frame by frame, so vividly that it physically pained him, making his body grow rigid and cold. He’s about to tell him that the biggest fear of it all was the possibility of you leaving, just like Ira did. But it’s right in that moment that he hears Soori’s shriek. It startles him at first, he thinks something must’ve happened to her, that she’s hurt, or perhaps just fuzzy and needs him. He drops the tongs he’s holding and is ready to run over to her. And then he sees you, fully stopping in his tracks when he realizes she’s perfectly fine – she was just excited to see you. 

Kenny hands her over and you take her into your arms, rocking her from side to side as you hug her to you. You feather kisses all over her face but she barely lets you, too excited and jumpy in your hold. She points at the red balloons that adorn the garden and you go wide eyed in excitement. Dae runs over to you and you kneel down, Soori still in your arms, and bring him in for a hug. He tells you things that Jungkook can’t make out from a distance but he, too, is going wide eyed in excitement. You motion to a box that sits by the sofa, neatly gift wrapped in Iron Man print. He claps and jumps and takes you by the hand, walking you to the table that holds all his birthday gifts. It’s only after you’ve helped him place your gift at the very top – as per his request – that your gaze finally meets Jungkook’s. 

You look beautiful, and when you smile at him he can feel his heart physically stop for a beat too long. Your long hair dances in the wind, and some gets tangled in Soori’s fingers. Even she looks at you in awe. You’re wearing a sage green summer dress that hugs your body in all the right places and then just flares out, accentuating that contrast you naturally hold. Very sweet but so very woman. 

He could stare at you for hours. 

And for his despair, for the most time, he does. 

~

You do a great job at seamlessly avoiding Jungkook. 

Now, it’s not that you want to avoid him. It’s more so that you don’t know how to face him. You’re afraid that anything he says or does could trigger a response inside of you that you won’t be able to control. Perhaps you’ll cry, or snap at him. Perhaps you’ll go completely mute. At this point, you don’t know. You tell yourself this is the price you pay for leaving a feeling untreated. But what could you do if the treatment to your feelings is standing at 5 foot 10 in total oblivion?

That much you know. Jungkook is oblivious as to how you really feel. And you can’t fully blame him for this because a. You’re the one that said he didn’t have to say anything in return and, b. Oblivion makes him look so small in your eyes. I mean, you’re out here sitting with your female rage, plotting his revenge, laughing a little too hard when he steps on a lego – in full Iron Man costume, may you add – and he just doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know. Because if he knew, he wouldn’t be stealing glances your way. Or letting his hand linger a little too close to yours when you stand next to him as Dae and his friends tell you what they’re reading in school. Or when you pass Soori to him, your arms getting tangled together. Or when you both reach for the same cupcake, the same glass of wine, the same deviled egg! He lingers like you often do when you’re in public and have to be kept a secret. When touch and proximity are scarce and you have to milk every touch, every word, every glance. 

In Jungkook’s eyes, your distance is simply discretion, because for Jungkook, your words were a heat of the moment thing. A testimony of how good you two had made each other feel. I mean, despite the way your words affected him and welcomed a new set of fears he wasn’t quite planning on having with you, he let you get away with it. He felt, in a way, that he was doing you a favor. I mean, you did sound embarrassed and almost avoidant when you said it. So why press on it? Why put the two of you through the stress of having to navigate your feelings? All of this made total sense to him when he woke up Sunday morning and decided to not give his mental chaos another thought. Why would he, when he could just enjoy you instead? 

Despite said female rage, the day turns out to be magical. Dae’s charmed by all the love he receives and even takes a power nap halfway through it all because he’s so exhausted from fun and play. But once he’s up, he’s unstoppable again. Running, swimming, singing and dancing, his fifth birthday party is a success. And now, with sun kissed noses and sugar rushes, his friends begin to say goodbye one by one. This is your queue, you think, and you walk over to Mai to thank her for having you. 

“What? No! Don’t leave now. The party’s just getting started. For us, at least,” she winks at you, motioning to the glass of wine she holds. It’s apple juice, only you don’t know this. 

“Uh,” you can’t come up with any excuses. 

“Plus! Don’t you wanna stay to see Dae opening his presents? It’s my favorite part of the day.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude-” you know that for Soori’s birthday at least, that moment happened after all the guests had left, and it was just their close group of friends. You feel out of place.

“Nonsense. He wants you here. We all do. I do,” she grabs your hand in hers and you give her a little nod before she’s dragging you back to the party. 

You enjoy yourself more than you’d expected. In between conversations, left over finger food and really good wine, the evening passed you by. You enjoyed getting to know everyone better and found particular joy in seeing them in this dynamic they seemed to be very familiar with. Of course, this was all accredited to the years they’d spent together. You couldn’t help but find it quite amazing; the fact that the majority of them had known each other since high school, all through college and adulthood. Parenthood, too, for some of them. Every act of service, word spoken and inside joke was laced with something that words couldn’t quite describe, but if you were to try, you’d label it as family. Simple as that. They were family. Seeing how quickly Lucy was weaving her way into their friendship group made you feel so happy for her. And it was in that instant that something told you that she’d stay forever. Not a doubt of it. She belonged – here, with Jimin, surrounded by love and family. She just belonged. 

Dae opened his presents and each reaction was better than the last. He was in a total high and the only thing that made winding him down for bed easier was Mai telling him that the faster he went to bed, the quicker he’d wake up to a room full of brand new presents he could play with all day long, if he so pleased. That and the fact that his cousins were staying the night and by the time Taehyung was done scattering his room with sleeping bags for the kids, the place looked like a campsite. 

And so the night was drawing to an end as you all sat by the lounge area in Mai and Taehyung’s backyard. Music playing softly from the speakers, the half eaten Iron Man cake on the table and a string of memories recalled by each of them as they reminisced. 

“Time flies,” Namjoon says. 

“I can’t believe you were the first one to have a kid.” Yoongi tells him. 

Hobi wraps his arm around Kenny, bringing her closer before he says, “how could you not? He’s always been very daddy.” They all laugh at his choice of words. “I didn’t mean it like that. Filthy minded, the lot of you.”

“I thought it’d be Jin,” Yoongi defends. 

“Nah. I always knew it was gonna be Namjoon. You left us too soon, bro.” Jungkook says, wrapping an arm around him and pouting. 

“Excuse me?” Iseul gasps, scowling at him from the warmth of Namjoon’s embrace, at the other side of him. 

Jungkook smiles at her cheekily, pout growing even more. “I love you. You know that. Matter of fact, you left us too son, bro.” He says this to Iseul. 

“Exactly. I was fun,” she says, crossing her arms as she falls back into the couch. 

“You still are! We all still are!” Seulgi says, raising her glass. They all join, and you laugh as you hear them add commentary like, “yeah, but at what cost?”, “I have chronic back pain.” and, “I fell asleep five minutes into a movie last night.” 

“God, I haven’t even been inside a club in years. What’s good nowadays? __? Lucy?” Jin asks. 

You both look at each other, not very familiar with the clubbing scene anymore. 

“Candied Star,” says Jimin, voice going low. 

“Shame on you, bro.” Yoongi tells him. 

“What the fuck is Candied Star?” Asks Hobi. 

“It’s a club!”

“It sounds like the name of a very blonde, very busty 90s pornstar.” Says Mai and they all laugh. 

“I actually used to love that place. It’s pink and excessive. And the DJ’s solid.” You say. 

Jimin claps once, body jolting, having a full eureka moment. “We’re totally going tonight. Saturday’s are the best nights!” 

“I’m so in. Taehyung’s fancy wine made me drunk, it’d be a waste to just go home.” Lucy adds. 

“You’re welcome, kid.” Taehyung raises his glass in her direction. 

“You coming, __?” Jimin asks you. 

You can’t fight it when your eyes land on Jungkook. His are on you already and again, you both linger in held glances for a second too long. You know he can’t go as he has Soori tonight. And you know your female rage wants to keep at a distance from him, so this is the perfect escape plan. But your heart takes one look at him and you want no more than to go back home with him. Have him all to yourself, crawl under a blanket with him and just hug him to you in a way that says, “I’ve been wanting to do this all week.”

“I’m in!”

And that’s the thing about untreated feelings: they rebel against you, even if the heart is waving white flags. 

~

See, you might not be one for crowded spaces and shitty music. You might be an Elton John fanatic, technology denier, gardening grandma attire wearer old soul. This might all be true, yes. But right next to that truth coexists a side of you that simply can’t help but love the fact that you’re twenty three. You’re twenty three and that means that on a saturday night, your responsibilities are at the bottom of the pyramid. You’re twenty three and there’s something about tonight that exacerbates the fact that you’re young and can allow yourself to be a little stupid. 

Candied Star is exactly what you described it as: pink and excessive. You hadn’t been here in months and perhaps that’s what makes it all the more alluring. You swiftly make it inside, courtesy of Jimin, who has a certain power over every bouncer and PR in the city. You could get used to the VIP treatment, if you were to confess. The line was going down a mile and you could see it from the taxi as you made your way to the club. The music is good from the get go and nothing about the atmosphere feels menacing or intimidating. Candied Star is for the cool kids. And what you mean by that is, Candied Star is for the girls, the gays and the allies. Nothing about this place caters to the male gaze and in a way, it’s so freeing. 

The moment you step foot inside you begin to let loose, and it’s not too long after that you’re being found by a troop of beautifying fairy godmothers that circle around the three of you, bedazzling your faces until the strobes inside the club hit you and you’re drenched in glitter and sparkling. The music aids the cinematic feeling of the night and when Jimin hands you a drink, it’s pink and shiny and you don’t know why but it just makes sense that it is. “It’s strawberry gin,” he says and you all bring your glasses together and cheer for a cause you’re not aware of but that demands celebration as you scream and sing and dance. 

By your third sparkly, strawberry gin, you’re the life of the party. 

No, really. You are. 

“I didn’t know __ had that in her!” Jimin says to Lucy, who admires you in awe. 

“Oh, but she does,” she yells over the loud music. 

The same people that put beads and glitter on your face are the ones that encourage you to get on top of one of the tables and give it your all. You’re not much of a dancer but in that moment, something in you releases in screaming color. Maybe it’s the song that plays that you vow to never forget. Maybe it’s the smiling faces that surround you and cheer you on. Perhaps it’s finding Jimin and Lucy in the crowd, smiling at you. You beckon them over and it takes them a while to get the hint but when they do, the crowd is parting for them and they’re being cheered on. You help them get on the stage – yes, a table, but it’s your stage – and you dance. You dance and sing and yell words to songs you didn’t even know you knew, or that maybe you thought you’d forgotten. 

But how could you forget? How could you forget how young you once were? How could you forget how young you are now?

~

Jungkook rocks Soori from side to side, bottle in hand as she begins to drift off in between suckles. The way she fights sleep to keep eating makes him giggle and when he does, her eyes snap open once again, seemingly more alert than the last time. 

“Shh, shh… sorry, baby. Sleep,” he whispers and his voice soothes her as he feels her little body relax in his arms. 

Night feeds are a rare occurrence nowadays but today was an exception. She’d had a fun day outside of her routine and the moment Jungkook had parked the car on his driveway, she’d woken up, more alert than ever. So here they were, in the middle of her nursery as Jungkook added a little bounce to his step the closer she got to finishing her bottle; the rhythm he’d mastered and could confirm worked like a magic trick to put her out cold and fast. 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying this moment. She was growing way too fast before his eyes and these moments reminded him of when she was a little baby. When she depended on him way more than she does now. When she couldn’t crawl, let alone be so close to walking as she was now. Her eyes open yet again and he looks at her, smiling. She smiles back and he starts humming a soft melody in hopes of putting her to sleep. It has no rhyme or direction and he tries to think of something. He sings to her, and it’s a song he’s heard you sing to her, too. 

Jesus freaks out in the street

Handing tickets out for God

Turning back, she just laughs

The boulevard is not that bad

Piano man, he makes his stand

In the auditorium

Looking on, she sings the songs

The words she knows, the tune she hums

She finishes her bottle, eyes blinking once, twice, before her long eyelashes meet her cheeks. She nuzzles her face closer to Jungkook’s chest and his heart breaks and mends all in the span of a second. He sings softer this time.

But, oh, how it feels so real

Lying here with no one near

Only you, and you can hear me

When I say softly, slowly

Hold me closer, tiny dancer

Count the headlights on the highway

Lay me down in sheets of linen

You had a busy day today

Hold me closer, tiny dancer

Count the headlights on the highway

Lay me down in sheets of linen

You had a busy day today

Soori falls into deep sleep and Jungkook holds her. He lets himself have her in his arms for a little longer. He thinks of all the parenting books he’s read in the past year or so, making himself chuckle as they would absolutely not approve of this. But he doesn’t care. He knows he’s doing the right thing. And perhaps he didn’t know this a couple of months back – a couple of months back he felt like he couldn’t get anything right – but now, looking down at her, he feels confident. He knows he’s doing the right thing because Soori? Soori is perfect. Soori is the best thing he’s ever been good at. Soori is his biggest and most exciting project. And as she sleeps soundly in his arms, it hits him. He’s doing a good job. 

He sings the same song to her two, three… four times. On and on. And at some point, the words start catching up to him in memories of you. He doesn’t want to sulk. He knows you should, as a matter of fact, be out there, having fun with your friends and dancing the night away at some club with a questionable name. But he can’t help but miss you. He thinks of you, because lately, every corner of his house reminds him of you. And yes, it aids his sulking but it’s also nice to just picture you everywhere. He thinks of you rocking on Soori’s chair, watching them, you’d probably be singing along with him. Or perhaps you’d be in his room, waiting for him on his bed, a book in hand, because you always carry one in your bag. 

He laughs as he remembers a conversation you’d had with Lucy right before you left for the club. 

“Wait, I’m not very dressed for the club…,” you say. 

Lucy looks at you, huffing. “You’re never dressed for the club.”

“No, Lu, seriously. I have a copy of Sense and Sensibility in my bag right now.”

“I guess Jane Austen is coming to Candied Star, then!”

And it was so you. Jungkook had never read Jane Austen, but the title alone was so very you. 

Finally, he’s putting Soori in her crib, making sure she has all her friends around in case she wakes up through the night and double checking the baby monitor before he’s gently closing the door of her nursery after he takes one last glance at her. He can’t see much, just one of her cheeks pressed against the mattress from between the wooden bars of her crib. He laughs softly, nose scrunching in endearment. 

He walks inside his room, retrieving his phone from his back pocket and throwing it on his bed. He’s about to turn around but he deflects, reaching back for his phone. He’s got a couple of notifications adorning his home screen – Mai had sent pictures from today to their group chat, his mom had texted him saying they needed to talk and he had a couple of work emails he did not want to get into right now – but none from you. Jungkook sighs, throwing his phone on his bed once again and making his way to the bathroom. 

He showers, taking his time to take the day off. Standing in front of the massage jets for a long time and in days like these, time felt like a luxury. He washes his hair, his body, lets the water run down on him. He takes his time and once he’s done, he walks over to his bed, tapping on his phone in quiet hopes that he’ll see your name on his screen. Nothing. He grabs the device to put it to charge but he changes his mind halfway through, bringing it with him to the bathroom. 

He brushes his teeth, washes his face, does his skincare. A notification pops up. It’s from The New York Times. He rolls his eyes, staring at the screen until it goes blank. He tells himself not to act so childish. He brushes his hair, applies three different products he doesn’t quite know the purpose of. He taps on his phone again, even though he knows he’s not going to find anything new. And he doesn’t. 

He doesn’t and he shouldn’t. 

Jungkook doesn’t want to pry you away from the fact that you’re twenty three years old, and that you should be doing exactly what a twenty three year old should be doing on a saturday night. God knows nobody stopped him, so he doesn’t want to stop you. But he’d be lying if he said that when Jimin invited you to the club, his blood went a little warm. Not fully hot, no. But a little warm. He wanted the night to wrap up so he could approach you and ask to give you a ride. No one would suspect, I mean, he was just doing you a favor, as your boss. But the moment he got you alone in his car he planned to kiss you until you had no choice but to follow him home. And he’d hold you and stare at you and kiss you until it paid for how little he got to do it this past week. He missed you. And he can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you looked today. At how beautiful you probably look right now, dancing and smiling. Probably a bit tipsy by now because he knows how much of a lightweight you were.

He gets in bed, attempting to get comfortable under the covers. He turns the TV on, plays the cooking channel, dims the lights, then turns them off. He puts his phone on Do Not Disturb but then chooses against it, just in case. Just in case you called him, giddy and with slow, slightly slurred sentences like you had that one time. And if that were to be the case, he’d ask you to come over. He’d feed you carbs, get you in the shower, in his bed. And then tomorrow he’d wake up next to you and- he stops himself. Because if he lets his mind go any further, he’s gonna be the one calling you. And asking you to come over – begging for it if need be. 

But even in his rationality, he hopes. Fighting sleep, just in case. 

You never call. 

~

“Pretty,” you say. Because it is. The city, the lights, even as they pass you by faster than you’d like. Your head is out the window, merciless wind hitting your face as the car picked up speed, making your hair dance behind you and your eyes water, smudging the glitter that adorned your cheeks. 

“It certainly is, but hey, __, maybe get back in here?” Lucy tries to reason with you, but it’s to no avail because your arm joins your head and the way the air feels like a heavy mass attempting to go through you is almost hypnotizing. 

Jimin peeks from his seat next to the other window. He giggles when he sees you mid trance. “Is her seatbelt on?”

“Yeah,” Lucy says as she tries to pull you back in. 

“Leave her be, babe. She’s having a cinematic moment.” 

“I’m scared she’s gonna want to jump out or something.”

Jimin laughs at this. “She won’t. Come here.” 

And so Lucy does, stealing glances your way from time to time to make sure you’re doing okay and won’t do anything crazy like fly out the window. 

That’s not what you want, though. You’re simply admiring the view. It feels so good. It feels so good to forget about what pains you for a night. It feels so good to not think about him, even though this thought alone requires you to think about him. You chuckle. Who cares? You’re not thinking about him, even if you are. Your drunken state tells your brain that you’re free of the Jungkook chaos you’ve been in for what feels like way too long. And when your heart tries to meddle, telling you not to be such a fool and reminding you that a week ago you poured your heart out to him, told him the biggest, most important words – the ones you searched for the most in your love stories – right around this time. Who cares? Who cares, you keep reminding your heart, demanding it to let it go, even if just for tonight. 

“We can cry tomorrow,” your voice is but a whisper that gets muffled by the wind, one that only you can hear. “Who cares tonight? Who cares, who cares, who cares…”

You can hear the beginning chords of a melody that you think you recognize coming from inside the car, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. It comes to you slowly though, and when you almost have it, you look behind you and see Jimin and Lucy singing along to the beat of the song. And then it hits you. Your body is inside of the car and you lean forward, hand on the driver’s shoulder.

“Oh my God,” you say to him, “you’re speaking to my soul! And I don’t know if I like it. Turn it up.” He smiles, chuckling at your words before his hand reaches for the console, the song resounding all through the car. 

You lean back on the seat, looking at Lucy before linking your arm with hers. The three of you sing, loud and drunk and happy. 

You can kiss a hundred boys in bars

Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling

You can say it's just the way you are

Make a new excuse, another stupid reason

Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck)

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck)

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

~

Your head pounds and at first, you don’t understand why. But it pounds so hard it snaps you back into consciousness. Once you are relatively awake you understand why. Not only are you deadly hungover but you’re also in the middle of what you can only describe as chaos. Your window is wide open and there must be a traffic jam going on outside because cars are honking left and right. Elton’s halfway through Tiny Dancer because clearly the first minute of that didn’t do its job at waking you up, and there’s a knock at your door. 

“Come in,” you say, as you switch off your alarm and try to drown out the outside noises by putting a pillow over your head. 

“Good morning, lover.” Lucy enters your room, and when you glance at her from an inch left uncovered by your pillow, you see she’s holding a tray. Iced americano, avocado toast and a sunny side up egg that smells delectable are just a couple of things that make her the best friend in the whole world this morning. The second one is the fact that she’s closing your window and suddenly, it’s peace, quiet and a feast in your room. 

“I’ve done nothing to deserve you.”

“You’ve done plenty.” She smiles and it’s sweet, just like every inch of her. 

“Good morning, dancing queen.” Jimin waltz inside your room, shirtless and with Lucy’s cow print fuzzy headband on his head. 

“I shouldn’t have to see this first thing in the morning, but it’s the price I pay for dancing on top of tables like God did not intend.” 

“Oh, no. I think God was in that room last night.”

“Babe,” Lucy whines. “Leave her alone!”

“Why? It was fun! You’re fun, __. You should come out with us more often, they gave us a bunch of free drinks just because we knew you!” 

You throw your pillow at him and he shrieks and runs away. Both you and Lucy laugh at his theatrics. 

“1 to 10 how much did I embarrass myself last night?” You ask as she hands you your pillow back and you return it to its rightful place over your head. 

“Like, minus 0. You genuinely were the life of the party. All you did was dance and drag everyone along!” 

“I’ll believe you. Thank you for breakfast, Lu.”

“Of course,” she smiles. “Hey, Jimin and I are going to his parent’s beach house for the week. We leave today.” She almost looks apologetic when she says it.

“That sounds so nice, Lu.”

“Yeah,” she says, and her voice takes on the tone she uses when something floats above her head in worry. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I am. But,” she pauses for a second, looking into your eyes. “Are you?”

“Me?” You ask, incredulous and you can see it in her face – how little she buys your act. “I’m fine, Lu. Just tired. It’s been a long week and honestly I probably just need some rest. I’ll try and take loads of naps today.”

She just stares at you for a couple of seconds, deciding your fate. Will she let it slide? Will she press? Will she give you the words of comfort you’re so very sure could make you cry right now and dismantle your lies? 

“You should try and get as much rest as you can.” And the only reason she says that is because they’re running late. 

“And you have fun,” you hug her. “Don’t worry about me, seriously. I’ll rest loads and probably clean around, do some laundry, maybe get some writing done. Ooh, I could meal prep for the week!”

~

You lose a sock on your way to the living room from the kitchen. It makes you stop in your tracks as you glance back and try to see where you’d left it. But it’s nowhere to be found. Oh, well. You shake the can of whipped cream you’d retrieved from the fridge, the cherry on top the most perfect Ben & Jerry’s flavor that has ever existed – chocolate fudge brownie, of course. Your mouth waters at the mere thought and you can’t resist the temptation of having whipped cream at such close proximity and so you swirl a hefty amount inside of your mouth. In perfect cinematic nature, the song that you’ve had on repeat for the past forty five minutes breaks into the chorus (yet again) and now the whipped cream can is your microphone and this living room is your stage. 

You said, "Baby, no attachment"

Your voice is hoarse, the remnants of yesterday’s fun and today’s chaos. 

But we're

You trip on an iPhone charger and it almost sends you flying. But it doesn’t, so you take the opportunity of being jolted forward to add flair to your performance. 

Knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out

Is it casual now?

Two weeks and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach

Is it casual now?

I know what you tell your friends

It's casual, if it's casual now

Then baby, get me off again

If it's casual, it's casual now

You don’t realize you’re crying until the tears touch your lips, warm and salty and it only makes you sing louder because at this point, you’re just letting yourself go a little insane in the privacy of your own home and the solitude that has been granted to you this sunday morning. So you eat ice cream at 11 a.m. and listen to feminine rage songs. More like, one single feminine rage song. And the more you sing it, the sadder it gets. The girls aren’t enraged. The girls are just sad. 

I fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner

Your parents at the table, you wonder why I'm bitter

Your hands come up and you spin as you sing and cry. 

Bragging to your friends I get off when you hit it

I hate to tell the truth, but I'm sorry dude you didn't

I hate that I let this drag on so long, now I hate myself

I hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell

The song ends and a second later, it starts again. You let it. Most of the lyrics don’t even apply fully to your situation and you can begin to recognize this as your steam is blown and you tire yourself out. And yeah, the lyrics may not all apply to you but some do and it feels good to scream them out loud and to get mad. 

You send a flying kiss to Chappell Roan and thank her for her services. 

~

“God, you’re such an asshole.” Your words are directed at Mr. Darcy, who’s been getting on your nerves for the past hour or so. “But you’re so beautiful. And I know deep down you’re a good man.” And it’s then that your eyes begin to well up yet again. Pride and Prejudice always gets to you. 

Your eyes leave the TV screen for a split second so you can draw your head back and take a bite out of your pizza. It’s delicious – cheesy and delicious, and just what you need. Dancing, singing and crying must burn more calories than you think because that was a workout and now you were exhausted and famished, even though you were halfway through your pizza already. 

“I mean, there you are! With your stupidly good looking face and your bad manners,” you point at Mr. Darcy on the screen. “And all because you can’t tell the girl you love her! Elizabeth, you deserve be-”

Halfway through your speech, you get interrupted by the insistent buzzing that comes from your phone. Your eyes scan the couch on the search for it but it’s nowhere to be found. You shove blankets and pillows aside and the more it buzzes, the more frantically you search. You find it under your pizza box right before it’s about to disconnect, quickly sliding your finger across the screen so you can answer the call, not having time to second glance at the contact. 

“Hello?!” You yell into the receiver. 

You hear Jungkook chuckle from the other end of the line and you quite literally choke on your spit, making you cough wide eyed and surprised. “Woah, woah. You okay?”

You hate that he cares. And you hate his little chuckles and how quickly he can disarm you because you feel the way your voice is about to go soft on him. You make sure to clear your throat (and shake the softness off) before replying.

“Yeah, yeah. I just have a bit of a sore throat.”

“So it was a good night, I presume.”

“Yeah, actually. The best.”

Your words are fast and sharp and Jungkook feels the sting. But nonetheless, he’s still oblivious. He blames the sting on his own childish ways of missing you too much even though he’d seen you every day this week. He blames it on the part of him that went to bed last night stubbornly wishing you’d be next to him. And so he opts to be bigger and better than his feelings, collecting himself before he responds.

“I’m glad, baby.” You’re quiet on the other end of the line. “Hey, so… we were just at brunch with my parents.”

“How’d it go?”

“Same old,” and it was true. It’d been awkward at first but then simply filled with small talk and the three of them swooning over Soori, to Jungkook’s fortune. “But I was thinking maybe I could pick you up and you could come over? We could lay by the pool, I could make us some dinner later…”

Your eyes scan the room. They land on the pizza box and then on Mr. Darcy on the TV, mid-sentence in what is probably useless words because none of them are what he actually feels. 

“I have a terrible hangover, being out by the sun would probably make it worse.”

“That’s ‘kay. We could watch movies instead.”

You sigh, your heart breaking at your coldness when you say, “I’ve had a long week, I think it’d be better if I just took it easy today and got some rest. I’m sorry.”

And as oblivious as Jungkook could be in the moment, no oblivion could stand between him and the way your words break something inside his heart in more ways than just disappointment. 

“Oh,” is all he can say. 

“But you guys have fun, okay? Give Soori kisses from me and enjoy the water. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Y-yeah. Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.” Jungkook wonders why the pet name he’s grown so familiar to calling you feels so foreign as they pass his lips now. “Bye.”

You linger. You wait, in silence, the soft static and words left unsaid. 

“Bye.”

I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you and I hate that you don’t love me back and I can’t do with hating that I love you and I could never do with hating you because I love you. 

When you fall asleep around thirty minutes later, it’s with heavy eyes and tears you’d been collecting ever since. You fall asleep before Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth can get their happy ending. 

~

Monday morning feels like hell. Getting out of bed feels nearly impossible and when you finally muster the strength to do so, you feel a headache coming up that threatens to linger for the whole day. You take some Tylenol, caffeinate yourself and eat whatever you can stomach. And since you hadn’t taken the time to make yourself an elaborate breakfast, you get fifteen extra minutes that you use to make yourself look better, in hopes that it helps you feel better. You take your time as you brush through your hair and get really close to the mirror as you apply your makeup, blending and dusting products on with more care than you have in years. You can feel the heat that takes on the day, despite it only being 7 a.m. and so when you stand in front of your closet you try to keep it light. You settle on a pink linen dress that’s a bit too short but still acceptable to go serve your duties as a nanny. And perhaps vanity could cure a broken heart because by the time you leave the house, your strut has a bit more of confidence to it and your mentality consists of more who cares rather than why me?

You settle on the bus seat, reaching for your book but there’s something about Sense and Sensibility you’re simply not in the mood for today. And so you put your headphones on and scroll through your playlists. You’re just a girl, so of course there’s a perfectly curated selection of songs for any occasion and so today’s choice is one titled so sad, so sexy. It’s feminine rage meets bad bitch anthems and your subconscious decides it’s this episode’s soundtrack. 

Mrs. Chae greets you at the door, like every morning, only today she smiles a little wider. 

“You look very pretty today, ___.”

You smile at her, asking her about her weekend as you make your way to the kitchen. You offer to make her some coffee as she gets Jungkook’s ready and it takes a little bit of insisting but she finally lets you treat her. As the minutes pass, though, you start feeling nervous. You hadn’t quite planned how you’d manage your feelings when you saw Jungkook this morning and every little noise has you jumpy and alert. You get Soori’s breakfast ready, cursing how quickly porridge cooks and your immaculate fruit chopping skills, because you’re done faster than you’d think and now you’re hands free and anxious again. 

“Mrs. Chae, let me help you fold laundry.”

“Fold laundry?!”

“Yes! I’m quite good at it. I worked at a little boutique all through my teenage years.”

“No.”

“Please. Just Soori’s at least.”

She looks at you intently for about five seconds, narrowing her eyes. “Her clothes are in the pink basket.”

You do a little cheer and thank her and she shakes her head at you but you can see the way she smiles. You get to folding her tiny clothes, cooing at how cute and tiny they are. You laugh at how her funny t-shirts that have kermit the Frog, Bluey and Wonder Pets prints get mixed with her nicer pieces that are full of tulle and fancy fabrics or are full on designer. But your favorites are the mini versions of Jungkook’s clothes that he always pairs with pink bows or colorful socks. It makes your heart melt. 

“Good morning,” Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of your trance. “Why are you folding laundry?”

“Don’t look at me, Mr. Jungkook,” Mrs. Chae defends, placing the tray that holds his iced americano on the kitchen island. 

“It relaxes me,” you say, arms reaching for Soori who falls straight into them. “Good morning, munchkin. You hungry?”

“I have to leave now. Emergency meeting at the office.”

“But your coffee,” you hate that you care, but you do. Not to mention that it already worries you that it’s all he has for breakfast. 

He doesn’t look up from his phone when he says, “At the office. Have a nice day, Mrs. Chae.”

You follow him as he makes his way to the door. You can tell he’s stressed just by being in his proximity and it almost reminds you of when you first started working for him, those very first cold and distant weeks. But when he turns around and takes Soori into his arms, he softens and grows mushy again. 

“I’ll see you tonight, baby. Be good for daddy, okay?” He kisses her cheeks. “You’ve recovered, I hope.” He says this to you. 

“Good as new.” You force a smile.

“I’m glad. I’m gonna be late again today, we’re hoping to close this deal this week and we’re in a time crunch. I’ve told Suelgi to pick Soori up in the afternoon-”

“What? Why?”

“Well, you stayed with her last week and-”

“Yeah, that’s my job. That’s what you pay me to do, remember? Also, it messes up with her routine so I’ll keep her and we’ll wait for you right here.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“___-” you don’t let him finish, fearing to fall into a conversation you can’t have right now. You grab the back of his head and bring him close to you until your lips are on his. You feel him relax against your touch and he deepens the kiss, even if for a brief second before you’re pulling away. 

“Have a good day. We’ll see you tonight.”

~

On Tuesday you keep your anxiety at bay by making Soori a really elaborate breakfast. And you’re speaking the whole ordeal. Eggs, cherry tomatoes that you cut up really small, all her favorite assortment of fruits (blueberries, strawberries and pears), avocado that you mash and season with salt, pepper and lemon juice. You even cut her toast in tiny hearts that adorn the corners of her plate. When Jungkook walks inside the kitchen that morning, you’re getting started on her meal prep for lunch. Cooking for Soori wasn’t really on your job description but you liked to be as involved as you could in her feeding and so you’d silently taken on the responsibility. She liked to watch you cook, clapped along as you played music and danced around the kitchen, giving her a show. 

You don’t hear him come in and Jungkook takes the time to let himself stare at you. Amidst the stress and exhaustion, you’re pure sunshine that creeps into his home each morning and for that he’s grateful. If yesterday you threatened to make him late for work, which he really couldn’t afford this week, today you’re making him wish he could throw all the contracts out the window and live in a world that rotated around your axis. He doesn’t know if it’s the way your lips are a tone redder today, or if it’s the way you have your hair up in a bun that somehow looks both disheveled and put together, thin strands of hair framing your face as you concentrate on the way your hands carefully peel the pear. You’re pouting, the way you often do when you’re focused on something and he thinks about how quickly he can get out of this kitchen so he can kiss you. You’re also wearing red, which is a color he doesn’t often see you sport but he makes a mental note to store it under favorites. Your dress is tight around your waist and then flairs out and he knows it’s short because the weather is hot and you know how to dress for it. Jungkook begins to feel hot, too. The straps are held by a bow that rests on top of your shoulders and one of them falls down your arm and he swears to himself this all just happened in slow motion. 

“Mr. Jungkook, good morning.” Mrs. Chae places the tray on the kitchen island with a little more force than she’d originally intended. This makes you jump and it takes Jungkook about a beat too long to come back to his senses. 

“Good morning,” he clears his throat when his voice falters. 

Oh, damn you, Jeon Jungkook in dress pants and a white shirt that hugs your body a little too nicely to be true. 

“Nana,” Soori shrieks, excited to see you as you walk over to them. 

“Hi baby, I missed you.” The moment your arms outstretch towards her, she’s falling into them. You look at Jungkook. “Hey.”

“Hey- how are you?”

“I’m good. Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Both Mrs. Chae and Soori stare at the two of you in confusion. 

“Nana,” this time she tries to get your attention, hitting you with her plush toy. You notice it’s shaped like a mille-feuille, courtesy of Lucy. 

“Is she- is that what she calls you?” Jungkook asks.

“I don’t know… it’s the first time she does it more than once in a row.”

“Cute,” he says, smiling. His face grows serious again when he sees Mrs. Chae smirking from the corner of her eye. 

“She’s cute. Want breakfast, baby?” And Jungkook is so entranced by you this morning he almost says yes. “We’ve got blueberries and strawberries and pears. Can you say pears?”

“Nana,” she smiles and is immediately forgiven. 

When you’re by the door saying goodbye, Jungkook’s about to kiss you, and there’s nothing in the world he wants more right this second. And as he leans in and mentally chants victory, his phone starts ringing. It’s Jin, and he knows it’s important. He should’ve taken his call ten minutes ago. His eyes close for a second, sighing in frustration before he picks up the phone. 

“Yeah, talk to me.”

You don’t mean to be so cruel, but alas, you smile. 

~

On Wednesday, it’s Jungkook who opens the door for you and by the looks of it, he’s on his way out, phone pressed to his ear as he steps aside to let you in. 

“Yeah, if you could please have those papers on my desk when I get there- yeah. Thank you, Kay. You’re the best.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s mentally. Inside your head so he can’t see. If you had a dollar for every time you’ve heard Jungkook say she’s the best you’d have two dollars, which is two dollars too many.

“Hey,” he says, eyes still on his phone as he reads what you can see is a really long email. 

“Good morning. What’s going on?”

“I have to run. Soori’s in the kitchen, she’s had a bit of a rough morning. She’s having a bottle right now.” He types as he tells you this. You want to shake him and tell him to look at you. 

“Is everything okay?”

His eyes meet yours. “Yeah, just- closing deals is hectic. That’s all. Everything okay with you?”

No.

“Yes.”

“Great.”

Great.

“Great!” 

“I’ll see you tonight?” 

“Sure.”

He presses his phone to his ear once again and turns around, walking towards his car, the loud beep startling you a bit as he unlocks it. You yell at him, mentally. Inside your head, so he can’t see. 

~

Soori was in fact having a rough morning, and her mood lingers throughout the day. She was a really good, happy baby so on bad days like these you knew something had to be bothering her. You’d found the root of the problem in the middle of a very dramatic cry, as her head swung backwards and her mouth opened to let out a loud wail. Her first back tooth was coming in. She was in pain, rightfully so, and nothing quite pleased her but you tried to do your best. She got extra cuddles and an extra morning nap. You’d made her strawberry juice lollipops so she could chew on for relief and mostly let her play throughout the day. She wanted to be held for the most part, though, and you had to admit you weren’t about to complain. You loved when she let you hold her and hug her and squeeze her. 

You’re halfway through a very softly sung version of Hey Jude when Jungkook calls you. It’s quarter past seven and you were winding down Soori for the night.

“Hi,” you say, voice a whisper so as to not wind her up. 

“Hey. How are you guys doing?”

“Good. She’s getting sleepy, she’ll be out in the next twenty or so. Her first molar is coming in, that’s why she’s fuzzy.”

“Oh, shit. Should’ve thought of that.”

“She’s doing okay now. She just needed extra cuddles.”

“I wish I could’ve been there today. Thank you, ___.”

“My pleasure. How’s your day? It’s late… are you coming home soon?”

And Jungkook knows you’re not asking for any other reason other than the fact you care about him. About his wellbeing and peace of mind. You took care of him in more ways than you probably realized because it just came as second nature to you, to be so caring. You, on the other hand, can’t help the way your heart plays onto the little fantasy. The one in which you wait for him to come home – a home of your own. He comes home to you after a long day and you sit on the couch and order take out and you make sure he has dinner because, to be fair, you’re not sure he does when you leave at night and the worry follows you until you get home even though you know that he can’t go hungry for more than twenty minutes. But you care, so you worry. 

Ugh!

“Yeah. I just have to go through,” he pauses, taking a look around him, “two more contracts. I’ll be there in about an hour or so.”

“I’ll give her a good night kiss from you.”

“Thank you, baby. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you,” and you hang up because if you don’t, you’ll fucking blurt those three words at him again, because in your little fantasy, it’s only natural. It’s only natural that you tell him you love him before you hang up the phone. 

God, life was playing tricky, tricky games on your heart. Ones that you were out of ideas on how to defeat. 

~

Soori had knocked out not too long after that. She’d been visibly exhausted from the discomfort and pain she’d carried all day and you could only hope tomorrow was better. You make a mental note to search up some toothing relief methods on your way home. You give her two forehead kisses before laying her down on her crib, placing her little mille-feuille plushie under her arm. 

You make your way to the kitchen, turning on every light that you pass because if you were to be honest, Jungkook’s house intimidated you a little bit during the night. It was just so big and spacious, wide hallways that felt never ending. You liked how quiet it was, though. A sense of peace filling you as you put the kettle on to make yourself a cup of tea. His selection was impressive and you wondered why. You don’t think you’d ever seen him drink tea… you wonder if this was one of the remaining bits of Ira that still lingered around the house. There weren’t many, but it was impossible to fully erase her. There was a mug in the cupboards with the letter I and right next to it, one with the letter J. Her white Mercedes Benz that still sat on the driveway, too. And even though she’d cleared her clothes from the closet, you’d once seen a pretty black dress that you could only assume had once belonged to her. 

You opt for a fancy looking ginger and lemon tea, taking your time to let the leafs brew in the hot water. Thinking of him, of her, of Soori. Of how much you’d weaved your way inside his home, his family, without the details of what landed you here in the first place. I mean, you know some of it, but not the whole story. And then again, how much of a story was there? Her departure had seemed final and abrupt and in your anger, you doubted her words and explanations truly mattered. 

You move through the kitchen, down the dining hall and into the living room at a slow pace, taking it all in. You try to remember if you’ve ever been here alone, when it’s so empty and quiet but you can’t place any memory of the sort. You walk over to the big, tall bookshelf that stood against the wall. It was mostly for decoration, you’d assumed – a bunch of color coordinated books that matched the aesthetic of the living space perfectly. You recognize some titles and some others seem old. Pages on art, architecture, travel and fashion. Your eyes land on one that doesn’t seem to have a name, the spine empty in smooth leather. You reach for it, its weight sitting heavy on your hands. It was big, too and it looked like it held something important. Something that you couldn’t find in a bookshop or library. You know you probably shouldn’t, but your curiosity gets the best of you. You sit on the sofa, tea cup long forgotten on the table, lifting the heavy cover to reveal a white page that held a handwritten note. 

To our Soori Blue,

Our darling girl, you are so very loved, and this is your story so far. This is where you come from and this is how you were loved from the very beginning, even before you were here. When you were but a little star waiting in the sky for your mommy and daddy to multiply the love they have for each other to make you. You’re born from love, Soori, and your parents are proof of that, because they love each other so very much. Waiting for you was hard because we couldn’t wait to hold you and getting to be your Godparents is one of our biggest blessings. You are so loved, you are so special and you will always have us. 

Love,

Auntie Mai and Uncle Taehyung

 You turn the page, a picture of Jungkook and Ira taking most of the frame. They’re pulling faces as they pose for the camera and behind them is the city skyline and a sunset that paints the sky pink and orange. She blows a kiss and Jungkook throws a peace sign as he winks. Under the picture, a caption in neat black font that reads, “this is from the day your mommy and daddy first met. Everyone says it was instant: how they fell in love. I bet they would’ve not believed it if they knew that only a couple of years later, you’d be here!” 

The next picture is a magazine cover, Ira gracing the page, her long, blonde hair dancing in the wind, eyes not fully meeting the camera as she smiles. She looks carefree and young, a beautiful blue dress adorning her body, making her blue eyes shine even from a distance. “This is your mommy. Isn’t she so beautiful? She’s smart, funny, kind and loved by many people around the world. But no one loves her the way we do!”

You turn the page, a picture of Jungkook standing in front of The West End, bright smile on his face. “This is your daddy. He’s really good at his job! He’s funny, cool and generous. He can’t stay still and he’s good at everything he does, first try! We love him a lot.”

Their relationship pans over the years as you leaf through the pages. Ira and Jungkook at the beach, in very many destinations around the world, on Christmas and holidays, with their families and friends, in the comfort of their home and in events and galas. The day they made their relationship official, accompanied by, “it was out of a fairytale!” and birthday celebrations that said, “your daddy spoils your mommy so very much, we’re kinda scared he’ll do the same with you!” as Ira poses in rooms filled with roses and balloons and boxes full of presents. 

You pay particular attention at a picture of Jungkook and Ira, a selfie that seems to have been taken on film. They’re in the kitchen, bright smiles and red, puffy eyes, like they’d been crying. “On this morning, your mommy and daddy found out about you! They were a little scared, but so very happy. You filled them with light, Soori. Just look at those smiles! They couldn’t wait to hold you – it was going to be nine long months!”

Then it’s all of them, out in the garden, Ira in the middle as they point to her stomach. “And on this day we found out about you! We were so happy!! We’d never seen your mommy and daddy so excited, you had a closet full of clothes already and they didn’t even know if you were a girl or a boy yet!”

Ira in an ultrasound, “your mommy and daddy were so happy to hear your heartbeat for the first time.”

Jungkook kissing her stomach, “deep down, your daddy always knew you were a girl. Your mommy was convinced you were a boy, though!”

Jungkook and Ira standing in the garden, pink confetti flying over them. “You’re a girl, Soori Blue!!!!”

The pictures progress with the passing of time, each one with a caption full of hope and love. A picture of Soori as a newborn representing her birth, a carbon copy of Jungkook that makes your heart seize inside your chest. Then pictures of her with her uncles and aunties, their families, Jungkook and Ira, who kiss her each on one cheek in the majority of them. You miss the way Ira smile changes, the way her gaze looks empty after a while. All you see is love, what Soori is truly made of. 

You blame your next thought on how overly emotional this past week has been, how tumultuously you’ve experienced every feeling. 

“There’s all types of love, but never the same love twice.”

You wonder if that had been it for Jungkook. If he would ever be able to experience the love he had for Ira again. You wonder if perhaps he’d ran out of love to give and if that was the case, you couldn’t blame him. You reach the final page; a picture of the three of them, Jungkook holds Soori in his arms and Ira wraps hers around them. She’s looking at him, a smile on her face as they stand in front of the sea. The water is blue and the day looks bright and they’re perfect. They’re love. The real kind, your brain argues. The kind that takes years to nurture, the kind that faces adversities and triumphs. The one that reproduces itself into the most perfect combination of every good thing about both ends. Soori is only a couple of months old but she smiles into the camera and for the first time, you see both Ira and Jungkook in her. 

~

You’d placed the photobook right where you’d found it and for the past thirty minutes, you’d been staring at the glass doors that led to the garden, in complete silence, though your thoughts are loud. You don’t hear Jungkook come in and it’s only when he sits on the couch next to you that you fully notice his presence. 

“What a fucking day,” he sighs, leaning back into the cushions and closing his eyes. 

You look at him for a long time, and he doesn’t acknowledge your silence. 

“You’re home now,” you say, even though it’s not the home you’d want it to be. 

“Yeah,” he looks at you. “How’s Soo?”

“Good. Sleeping.”

“Thank you for staying with her.”

“Of course.”

“I’m fucking starving,” he says, sinking further into the couch, his head turning to face you. “You hungry? Want some ramen?”

You simply nod and that has him getting up from the couch, hand reaching for yours. You walk into the kitchen together, your fingers entwined in his and the simple act sends electric currents down your body. It’s funny how unaware you can be about touch until it’s the right person’s skin against your very own, because what you feel right now, you hadn’t felt in days. 

You miss his touch instantly as he moves on to making dinner. 

“How was your day,” you ask, because you’re tired of the silence, and you’re tired of putting in an effort at keeping your heart quiet. 

“Long. And exhausting. Never ending, even.” And Jungkook doesn’t mean to whine and complain but then again, it’s not like he was lying. His day had been hell and just when he thought it was over, another problem presented itself right before his eyes. 

“What exactly are you working on right now?”

He looks up at you before he says, “I’m buying land to build a hotel in the Alps.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Funny, huh?”

“Your live is unreal to me sometimes.”

He pours water into a pot, placing it over the stove to bring to a boil. He stalls for a minute, remembering where they kept the ramen packets. “Yeah, to me too.”

You point to the cabinets behind him, and he gives you a quick smile in acknowledgement. 

“So, is that what’s taking up all of your time?”

“Yeah, sort of. It’s just a lot of politics and strategy. Meeting in the middle and settling and whatnot. Some of these people are so hard to negotiate with, though. They know real estate, but not hotels.”

“Well, I’d assume not many people do. And I’d assume what you know, you learned at a very young age.”

“Well, not quite. I wasn’t always interested in my field of work, believe it or not.”

“Nonetheless, you grew up around it.”

“So?”

“So, it’s a privilege that you have access to all of this knowledge. What you know- the way you know it, that can’t be taught in a classroom.”

“Well, no. It requires experience.”

Jungkook catches the way you roll your eyes, a huff leaving your mouth as you smile. 

“What?” He says.

“Nothing.”

“It’s okay, you can say it.”

You raise an eyebrow in defense. “Say what?”

“You know, give me the whole nepotism talk.”

“I wasn’t going to do that.”

“Yeah, sure.” He smiles but there’s nothing soft about the action. “Dinner’s ready.”

You stand in deafening silence for a minute, eyes on his, like this is the beginning of something you won’t be able to stop without someone getting hurt. 

“I think I’m gonna go home. I’m tired,” you say, turning around and getting ready to leave. 

“Oh, come on.” 

And that makes you stop in your tracks, turning so you can face him again, eyes narrowed and lips ready to spit venom if you so pleased. 

“I don’t feel like fighting with you right now, Jungkook.” And you could’ve left it at that, and perhaps it would’ve been better, but you don’t. “Oh, wait. I don’t have to do that. Because you seem to know what I want to say.”

He walks closer to you and nothing in his face tells you he’s about to extinguish the flames that seem to grow taller between you. 

“Your poker face isn’t all that good, baby.”

“I’m glad my intentions came across clear as day.”

He smiles, eyes diverting from you for a second before his gaze pierces yours once again. You inch closer to him and it’s barely noticeable, scowling back at him. Your blood feels hot and the flame grows bigger, more violent, only the fire gets lost in something else. Something that is only understood the moment Jungkook is pulling you closer and his lips are crashing onto yours in a kiss that makes the warmth travel throughout your body until the whole room is scolding hot. 

Your lips part but a second as you catch your breaths, chests heaving in sync, impossibly close. You try to find words, form a thought, anything that could leave your lips in a coherent sentence but you’re left with nothing. Blank, red, heat. It’s all you can think about. Him and his proximity. When Jungkook diverts his gaze from your eyes to your lips, it’s you that crashes your lips to his once again, deepening the kiss as your fingers tangle in his hair. Both his hands wrap around your waist, squeezing at the flesh and he curses the fabric that comes between his fingertips and your skin. He longs to touch you, he longs to have you and his life was starting to feel like a waiting game when it came to you. He didn’t think he could go a second longer entertaining it.

He walks you backwards until your back hits the kitchen island, flushing himself to you until he’s pressing you against it. Your hands roam down his body, starting down his arms and up his torso, until they’re on his neck again and you wrap your arms around it, hugging him to you. His hands travel to your ass, squeezing before he’s picking you up and sitting you on the counter, taking one step closer so he stands snuggly between your legs as they close around him. And you kiss. You kiss with intention but no direction, his tongue parting your lips and meeting yours halfway – sloppy, messy, needy. His hands travel under your dress until he’s squeezing the flesh on your thighs, drawing you closer to him. You loose track of time, not a care in the world but his lips on yours and so does Jungkook, who doesn’t realize how much he’s aching for you until your hips are involuntarily grinding against his. His cock jumps and he’s more alert of you than ever, a throaty moan escaping his lips as you repeat the motion. 

You feel it, too. And some part of your brain tries to tell you that your body’s betraying you. That you’re kissing him with the same mouth that holds secrets from him, anger even. But you don’t care. Your heart leaps the closer he pulls you in and your skin feels wired with electricity the more the sensation of wanting him begins to take over your body. You want him, you need him, and when he’s so supple for you the way he is now there’s no way you could deny yourself the pleasure of having him. 

Your hand begins its descend, squeezing at the nape of his neck, down his chest and toned abdomen, taking a detour to untuck his shirt from under his pants, letting your hands roam inside, feeling his warm skin against them. You feel the way he sucks in a sharp breath, tummy caving in at your touch in anticipation. You smile against his lips and he kisses you harder, palms squeezing your flesh. You finally give him what he wants when your hand closes around his cock, making it pulse against the fabric of his pants. The moan that escapes his mouth borders on a whine and it’s so delicious it has you throwing your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. His lips find your neck, kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin, rejoicing in the little whines that you let out at the feeling. 

He breaks the kiss, reluctantly removing his hands from your body so he can unbutton his shirt, unable to handle the heavy nature the air has taken around him. You lean back, palms resting against the cool marble of the counter, cocking your head to the side and taking him in. You notice him noticing you, and you don’t miss the way he slows down his movements, taking his time all of a sudden, giving you a show. You smile, lip caught between your teeth and you feel the need to close your legs, an impulse reaction at the need of friction. Jungkook notices this, your body jerking slightly, face delirious, eyes desperate and he chuckles. It has bite and attitude, and you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Don’t get cocky now,” you say, brain short-circuiting when he finally removes his shirt.

“I won’t. Need you too badly to play games right now.”

His words barely register because as soon as they leave him, his lips are back on yours, twice as fervently as before, his purpose clear. You give into him, not wanting to play games either. 

“I need you to touch me, Jungkook.”

His hand comes down to your breast, squeezing and pulling sweet little noises from you. 

“Yeah, baby?”

Your hands find his waistband, undoing the button of his pants, his zipper following, until your hand is traveling down his boxers and gripping around his cock, making him hiss at the contact. 

“Oh, fuck.” His voice is hoarse, deep. Your hand begins to move, thumb collecting the pre cum before you’re circling it around his tip. He bites your bottom lip as you begin to stroke languidly, applying pressure here and there, teasing him. 

“Are you gonna fuck me in the kitchen, Jungkookie?”

“Yeah. It’ll ruin my mornings forever, though.”

You pout, mocking innocence. “Why’s that?”

“Every morning, when I walk in here,” his hands travel under your dress again, fingers toying with the waistband of your underwear. “I’m gonna see you behind this counter,” he kisses you, a gasp leaving your lips as he hooks his index finger down the side of your panties, a soft touch to your skin. “Making coffee, cooking breakfast.” His middle finger spreads your folds, a soft hum passing his lips when he notices how wet you are. “In your short little dresses, acting like you don’t know what you do to me.”

“I-I don’t,” and he doesn’t let you finish your sentence. Middle and index finger entering you slowly, eyes on yours as his face grows confused. 

“You don’t?”

“N-no, mm, Jungkook,” you plead.

“Say please.”

“Please.”

“You’re so good, baby.” He kisses you, fingers picking up pace inside of you, finding that spot that has you arching your back for him in no time. “But you know what?”

“W-what?” Your eyes snap open, silently pleading that he doesn’t stop. 

“I think you do know.” His fingers stop and he smirks when your face falls. Your eyes travel down, following the way his hand wraps around his cock, spreading your wetness all over it. “I think you know exactly what you’re doing.” He pushes your panties to the side before his tip teases your entrance, a moan escaping both your lips in unison. “And I think you like it.” He pushes inside of you and you sigh. He thinks it’s sweet, the way you react to him. You feel so good around him. He cups your cheek, pressing his forehead to yours before stealing a kiss from your lips. “Don’t you like it, baby?”

“Yes. I like it, fuck.” You don’t even knowing what you’re agreeing on at this point and you don’t care, too entranced by the way his cock stretches your walls so perfectly, hitting it so fucking good it’s almost like he was made for your pussy. And in this moment, Jungkook is sure of it. 

“Shit, baby. You feel so good.”

And sure, Jungkook could fuck you at this leisurely pace for the rest of his life, getting to feel every inch of you until it drove him fucking insane. But he wanted more – he needed more – and the way you were digging your nails in his biceps told him that you did, too. When he pulls away, you whine, narrowing your eyes at him and then rolling them when he simply responds with a, “patience.” He wastes no time removing your panties, throwing them behind him before he hooks his hand under your knee, bringing your leg up until your foot is resting against the kitchen counter. He starts fucking you again, but harder this time and the angle is so fucking perfect you swear you begin to see stars in your eyes, feeling a bit lightheaded at the feeling. He kisses down your neck again, letting himself enjoy how good you sound, and how good you feel. How good your skin tastes on his tongue. 

“Don’t stop, baby, oh my God.”

And so he locks in the pace, middle finger finding your clit and circling around it until he feels the way your body begins to shake in his hold, pussy clenching around him. 

“Fuck, yeah, baby. Cum for me,  ___.”

Your body shakes, moans getting louder as he kisses you and you can feel the way he smiles against your lips. He fucks you slow, letting you come down from your high, kissing you passionately and making your mind go hazy with every touch. Every little thing he does sends your mind into a frenzy and you fucking love the feeling. Your body is completely submitted to him, and you let him do whatever he wants to you. You let him kiss you, you let him hold you when he brings you down from the counter and your legs fail you. He laughs and you shush him and then you let him kiss you again. You let him turn you around, gently push you down until the upper half of your body rests against the cold marble. His legs part yours, hands uncovering you as he pushes your dress up and out of the way. He runs his hands down your body gently and you close your eyes, enjoying the moment, content little sighs leaving your mouth. He plays with your pussy, as he kisses down your back and when you begin to clench around his fingers, he fucks you like this. He goes hard, but he goes slow and he grunts when you throw your ass back, meeting him halfway. He spanks you once, twice, making you gasp and wish you had the strength to go for hours. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby. God, you’re so fucking hot.”

“Please, Jungkook- I need it, please.”

And you’re so pliant, so willing to give him anything he wants. So willing to give yourself to him his cock and heart are basically battling for blood at this point. 

“Nngh- I’m gonna cum.”

You feel his warmth hit your ass, some landing on your back, and it makes you giggle, feeling a tad bit delirious at how ridiculously good that can feel. 

“Truce?” You look back at him, but he’s too enthralled by the way his cum paints your ass. 

“Mhm,” he musters after a second too long. 

“You’re such a boy.”

“And you have such a nice ass.”

He cleans you up with his shirt, helping you step inside your panties and even pulls them up himself. When he comes back up, standing in front of you, he kisses you. Not lustfully, not for the heat of the moment, but for something more. Something that says I’ve missed you. Your heart begins to transform into the odd shape it’d been in the past couple of days because all you can think of is how much you loved him right now. How much you’ve loved him, even amidst your anger and disappointment. You knew it, your body knew it, and now your heart was angry again. 

“Stay the night,” he says. “We’ll tell Mrs. Chae that you got here earlier. Or we’ll sneak you out through a window, I don’t know. But stay.”

Jungkook is just trying to be funny, but his words hurt. And you know they shouldn’t. You know you’d agreed to take things slow, to let him heal and test the waters but your decisions had made you selfish and right now, you had no way of controlling how much you wanted what you wanted. 

“I,” you pause, looking into his eyes. “I better go.”

“Why?”

“I should get home and shower and try to rest before tomorrow. Plus, I don’t have clothes or anything here and- I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Jungkook scans your eyes, trying to find the reason as to why your perfectly logical answer makes him feel so uneasy. But he can’t. He can’t find it, but he also can’t shake the feeling. 

“Okay.” He kisses you again. “I’m sorry for being a dick earlier. I let my exhaustion get the best of me.”

You smile at him. “It’s okay. I’m sorry, too. I don’t think you’re a nepo baby.”

“Mmm,” he plays, making you laugh.

“Only a little. But I would never say it to your face.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

He nods, kissing you again. And in that moment, you wonder if you’d ever felt your heart break and fall at the same time. 

~

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[tarjapearce]

Lips anon! OOOHHH imagine another man getting touchy with the wife during soccer practice, and Miguel beats the living shit out of him lmao

👀👀

Miguel wasn't a violent man, but lately the subject before him was tearing his calm strings almost on purpose. You remained curt and polite towards him, avoiding as much small talk as possible with him, even made sure to show him that no man could actually compete against Miguel.

"Just ignore him" You had said to an apparently calm and serene Miguel that kept giving cold and warning glances at him.

The kids were away, doing a small routine and pre-work out before actually starting the game. Some of the parents took a turn into bringing the kids foods and snacks for later. It was your turn. You were unpacking the beverages in the cooler as Miguel was setting up the table with some lunchables and other baked goods you had prepared. Benjamin was spending a day with Peter and Mayday.

"I'll get the ice." The Parking lot was a few meters away from the field, away from the parents. You took the car's keys and walked over the trunk to get a few packages of ice.

"You need help?" The too familiar and raspy voice made you flinch in uncomfortableness.

"No, Thanks." Your voice was firm, the man, your allegedly fan, was a relative of Victor's dad. A cousin of the sorts. Despite having the previous clash, you somehow had worked it out just for the sake of Gabriela and the team. Still, you all kept your distance from each other to avoid any unnecessary interaction. Until, Alonzo, your fan approached.

"Ah, c'mon preciosa, those bags look heavy."

"Not your business anyways. Kindly, go away, you're making me uncomfortable."

Alonzo held his hands in defense, but your anger made one of the bags to slip and fall from your hands. Alonzo took the bag and touched your shoulder firmly

"Don't you fucking touch me! " You seethed loud enough as you flinched.

"Ay, corazón. You should be grateful that I'm helping you here. Look at the mess you're-"

A loud smack connected to his jaw, doubling him in pain as he stumbled on his feet. Alonzo struggled to keep on his feet as he fell on the floor.

"Como vuelvas a tocar a mi esposa, te rompo más que la puta cara, cabrón!" (If you ever touch my wife again, I'll not only fuck up your fucking face, dipshit.)

He growled as your eyes widened in shock. Some parents had witnessed the whole thing, some approached, Victor's dad included.

The kids were still in their practice, oblivious to the small fight that had broke out.

Alonzo was taken out of the field as Victor's dsd apologized, shame in his face. Alonzo still had the guts to actually threaten Miguel between broken mumbles.

The once familiar ambience dissipated, leaving a tense and awkward energy to linger. It had also been a shock to you, it was the first time in actually seeing Miguel so angry that he went physical on someone.

You remained quiet as you patched his swollen knuckles.

"You ok?" Despite him being the injured one, he asked for your well-being.

"Yeah. just... Let's forget it." your tone meek, as you gently applied ice on his hand.

[alexwilltellyouthings]

Payneland/DBDA fanfic recs

I'm celebrating 200 fics (yes I keep count, I'm a nerd) and over a million words read in these 3 months of dbd 🎉🎉🎉

SO here are a few of my all time favorites (trying not to mention too many of the already very known ones):

Joi de Vivre, by olympus_mons

my very first fave, explores Edwin's longing so so well. And the ending, bittersweet and so loving, uGH I LOVE THEM

---

wanted to be something (you couldn't put down), by Ink_stained_quills

also one of the firsts, so very well written and great feelings realization with a bit of misunderstanding to make it sweet

---

Of a youth who loves me, by Aliquis

ok yes this series is pretty famous but I can't just not mention it. it's so sweet and tender and aAAAAAAAaaa. just go read it. just go.

---

job officially jobbed, by vernesatlas

e-rated, so it's +18 only! canon divergent and really just the right fic to follow up the handjob comment. as simple as that. I needed it deep in my bones and it's so fucking hot

---

The Most Tender Place In My Heart, by coloursflyaway

also famous, although not as much as some of the others by the same author, but this is the best one in my opinion. the way edwin is open about his feelings here, the memories painting the whole picture, the way you can see charles working things out, it's so beautiful

---

dulcet tones of broken bones, by gremlininthemachine

this one HURTS. it's a lot of angst, let me tell you that. it feels very true to Edwin's character. mind the tags if there's anything you feel is too much for you. I cried several times. it was amazing. the ending is hopeful, but not entirely conclusive, as there might be a sequel coming on. ALSO it's not really payneland centric, but anyway it was maybe the most emotional any fic has made me in a long time

---

the ghost of the past that you live in, by ObsessedWithFandom

EXPLORING CHARLES' BISEXUALITY YESSSS I wanted something like this so much! really liked how it was played out, how each experience puzzled itself into his identity. the OCs are great. really lovely all around

---

Who? You mean your teammate in the Codependency World Cup?, by RoseGanymede95

this is also a series and I still haven't read the unfinished ones, but the first two are amazing. those are case fics through and through, pre-canon, and I just LOVE their dynamic even if not explicitly romantic, and also the cases themselves and how Charles acts and UGH EVERYTHING, really highly recommend these

---

Nothing Left to Hide, by RoseGanymede95

listen this person is incredible what can I say. this is a very needed unpacking of hell's aftermath, mostly about how Charles is doing after seeing what he saw. it's a big hurt/comfort on this one. big on both. ugh so good

Well there's that. I hope you enjoy these as much as I did!

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Written for @steddieangstyaugust, day 6 - "Who did this?" Childhood friends Steddie, delayed because I'm still sick and sleeping most of the time, sorry. I will catch up eventually.

When he was eight years old, someone up there sent Steve Harrington a miracle. It was't flashy, shiny or anything, so it took him a while to recognize that it was indeed a miracle. It came in form of a boy about a year older than him, with a mop of wavy dark hair, large brown eyes and even larger smile - Eddie Munson.

Steve was doing well at that time, or so everyone kept telling him. His parents had the money to buy a big house, get him a babysitter when needed, send him to all the activities he wanted - only they were rarely with him. But that was fine. When you have everything that so many others don't, you can hardly complain about something as mundane as feeling lonely.

God, Steve felt lonely.

He was the rich kid, the one with the "nothing is ever good enough" parents, and that rarely won him any friends. They all expected him to organize parties, to get a bouncy castle for the afternoon, to bring a cake whenever they asked, but it felt like they never really wanted him. Steve found the feeling painfully familiar.

It took one gentle rejection of another set of requests and demands, a suggestion that maybe they could just go and check out the fair that was just unpacking nearby, and everyone lost interest in him, called him cheap. Unpacking meant that it wasn't open yet, and that Steve wouldn't pay for the rides. He was just leaving the playground when he heard a high, loud voice call out to him. "Hey, hey you! Yellow t-shirt! Wait!"

Steve stopped and turned around, glaring at the skinny kid rushing to him. "Yellow t-shirt?" he asked, wondering if he should be insulted.

"Well, duh. I don't know your name yet. I'm new here." The boy stopped in front of him with a wide smile plastered on his face. "But now I will. I'm Eddie, I moved in with my uncle a week ago. You are?"

Steve offered him his hand. "Steve. So, uh..."

Eddie laughed and shook his hand. "Hi, Steve. Now, did these sharp ears hear something about a fair?"

Something lifted in Steve's chest, something he never knew weighed so heavily on him. "Sure did!"

His new friend - only friend - beamed at him. "Then lead the way! "

..

It was after they properly inspected all the attractions that the fair had to offer that Steve noticed a bruise on Eddie's arm. It was pure chance - he and Eddie were swinging on a tree branch and Eddie's sleeve fell back, revealing a nasty bruise. It must have been older, but the size and discoloration were still enough to make Steve concerned.

"Who did this?" he asked, pointing at Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie seemed to freeze mid-swing. He dropped to the ground and pulled the sleeve back. "No one. I fell, I'm clumsy like that." He spoke fast and with that carefree smile, but Steve's gut had a mind of its own.

"Eddie. You don't get bruises like that from falling," he said and despite Eddie's protests, leaned in to examine the injury. He'd seen some like that, on kids whose parents tended to fight a lot, or at least according to his parents, "had a nasty violent streak". He always tried not to stare, but he knew what they meant. "It looks...looks like a punch. Did someone do that to you?"

The smile faltered and Eddie dropped his gaze to the ground. He shuffled around awkwardly on his feet, as if he was deciding whether to run. "Uh...yeah. I mean. It's probably not a secret, it's just that it used to? I mean," he added, noticing the confused look on Steve's face, "my dad tends to get angry a lot when things don't go well. He lost his job, mom left us...so yeah. That's also why I'm here, in a new town, new school...my uncle lives here. I'm staying with him."

"Is he..." wavered Steve, "...is he angry too? Will you be OK?"

If there were any tears in Eddie's eyes, they were gone in an instant. "Wayne? Oh no. He's great. He's a bit scary, but he's so nice. You know, he gave me his own bed. I told him I don't need it, but he didn't care. And he gave me some really cool books! You'll never have to worry about Wayne. Or me. That's a promise."

..

Steve didn't think Eddie meant to lie. "You'll never have to worry about me" sounded wonderful, but it never worked that way with them. And Steve found himself asking Eddie the same question over and over.

"Who did this?" he asked as Eddie came to the school with his head shaved, gently coaxing an answer from Eddie that his classmates thought cutting his hair would be a great prank. "It'll grow back even thicker, just you wait," he snickered, but Steve could see his restless fingers reaching out for the strands that were no longer there.

"Who did this?" he asked as he was helping Eddie fish out his school supplies from the pool. Eddie just laughed it off, saying he'd pissed of a bunch of seniors by not lying to their girlfriends about cheating.

"Who did this?" he asked as he saw Eddie with a black eye and his locker painted over with the word FAGGOT. Eddie shrugged and slammed the locker shut. "It's not like they're wrong," he whispered to Steve. When Steve turned up at his and Wayne's trailer in the evening, Eddie hugged him tight, as if he thought he'd never see Steve again over that admission. As if.

"Who did this?" he asked as he was picking Eddie up after his roleplaying club, Hellfire, and seeing that someone cut Eddie's tires. Eddie just laughed and explained that apparently dragons and adventures were the work of Satan now.

"Who did this?" he asked in marvel as he saw Eddie's first tattoo. It was so crooked and imperfect, but so much like Eddie. When he admitted it was his own work, Steve asked for one of his own.

"Who did this?" he laughed as he kissed Eddie for the first time and found a small braid hidden in his mane of hair. When Eddie admitted he made that one himself, that he gets restless sometimes, Steve asked to teach him. So he could always braid Eddie's hair for him when they eventually moved away together.

But maybe the answers didn't matter.

The answer to "who did this?" didn't matter to the mob that gathered after Chrissy Cunningham's death. They decided they knew already.

"Who did this?" didn't matter when Steve raced to the hospital with badly injured Eddie in his car, the wound on his head bleeding onto Steve's pristine window.

"Who did this?" lost its importance when Wayne and Steve waited for the dreaded news.

And knowing who did it certainly doesn't help Steve now, as he and Wayne are picking up a headstone for Eddie's final resting place.

[fellshish]

I understand that. Michael Sheen is attractive but the more I think about Aziraphale, the more he pisses me off because the worst thing he could have said was turning Crowley back into an angel. Crowley hates heaven and doesn’t wanna be an angel. Why does Aziraphale refuse to admit that both heaven and hell suck and why does he say that Crowley is a bad guy when he isn’t one?

Don’t worry, I didn’t think you were calling Michael Sheen unattractive :))

Ok, a lot to unpack here. But i love thinking about good omens so thank you for asking.

First of all, Aziraphale didn’t say Crowley is a bad guy. Crowley said that they asked him back to hell but he’s “not rejoining their team” and he said no. To that aziraphale replied “obviously you said no to hell, you’re the bad guys”. Not the most diplomatic way to say it, he should have said “they’re the bad guys”, but beneath the words is this: he thinks it’s logical crowley said no because he doesn’t think crowley is a right fit for hell. Because crowley is good.

Does he think crowley is right for heaven, then? Not as is — but perhaps as it could be. They could make it better, together. Crowley would be safe there: no longer hated and hunted by heaven or hell. Under aziraphale’s protection. The metatron made it very clear he knew what him and crowley had been up to for all those years, and there was a veiled threat in that, in my opinion.

Now aziraphale & heaven — it’s complicated. Aziraphale doesn’t like thinking about it. He likes living in blissful ignorance enjoying human delights such as books and theater. The last thing he wants to do is work. And over the past 6,000 years he has learned to see shades of grey but he’s also been unable to make real changes. And overall he considers heaven to be better than hell, still. There’s no real alternative.

His choice at the end of season 2, to me, makes a lot of sense. Let’s put it this way. Let’s say you’ve been working for a big charity for the longest time. There are flaws in the company: not everyone who deserves it, is getting help. The charity is being run really badly.

Then, they offer you a new position. You can run the charity. You can change it, but it’ll be hard and you’ll have to give up your current life. Your best friend says: we should just run off together and be happy together. Could you turn your back on the charity? Knowing you could’ve made a difference — or at least tried? That there are people who need help, that aren’t getting it, because you made a selfish choice?

Aziraphale and crowley both have their own flaws in their reasoning, their own motivations. I don’t think aziraphale is more wrong for choosing heaven than crowley is wrong for wanting to be cut off from everything.

The truth is this: the second coming is being put into motion. Aziraphale and crowley are humanity’s only hope.

Aziraphale thinks he can make a difference by influencing heaven. I don’t think he’s mean, or out of character, for that choice.

I do think he should tell crowley he loves him though.

[shehungthemoon]

Bucktommy Fic prompts: first vacation or snowy cabin vibes

first 118 bbq

Buck rescues a kitten from a tree and keeps it #catdads

Buck telling Tommy he was a sperm donor with zero context like ‘oh yeah biologically I have a kid’ and walking off leaving Tommy like ???

First Christmas together

Idk if it’s your vibe but something relating to the ring cutter?

Babysitting jee

Tommy realising ‘random facts with Buck’ is a thing

Flying lessons

Sorry I have a lot of thoughts and zero ability to write lollll

Oh, anon. I saw "babysitting jee" and could not get the image of Tommy looking at dollar store kids coloring books out of my head. And here we are 🖤

"Are you sure you're okay with it?" Buck asked into his phone, balancing it in between his shoulder and ear as he unpacked his locker for the night. "It's just that Tommy and I don't really get a lot of time to see each other with our schedules and everything, and—"

"Buck," Chim interrupted, "Yes I'm sure. I've known Tommy longer than you have, unless you've somehow forgot that since the last time you begged me for old, embarrassing photos of the man."

"Yeah yeah," Buck mumbled, "I know I know, sorry." Chim made a satisfied hum. Buck finished zipping up his bag. "Bet I know him better though."

Chimney started squawking indignantly over the phone. Buck grinned into his chest.

So, Buck invited Tommy to come babysit Jee with him that night, nervous the whole time he typed the text.

-i know it's not really a great date setting

He typed after he sent the initial message.

-totally ok to say no

He was stupid to be nervous. The reply came almost immediately.

-Are you kidding? I've been waiting to meet that girl ever since Chimney sent me those first pictures.

-Of course I'll be there

---

Tommy met him at Buck's door with a sweet grin and a bunch of coloring books in his hand. Buck couldn't do anything but stare at him for a moment and smile back.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Buck wondered if those butterflies in his stomach would ever go away. When Tommy leaned forward and pressed a gentle, quick kiss onto his lips, Buck came to the conclusion that there was no possible way they ever would.

"I brought these," Tommy said as he walked into the apartment, shaking the coloring books in the air and looking just a little bashful about it. "Didn't want to show up empty handed but I figured wine wasn't the right call for the venue."

Buck chuckled and shut the door behind him. "You definitely figured right." He pointed over toward the media area. "Wanna meet the star of the show?"

Tommy grinned. "More excited to see her than you, really."

Buck scoffed with feigned-offense and pinched Tommy's arm before moving his hand to the small of Tommy's back, pressing him gently toward where Jee was set up in front of his couch.

Jee looked up from her toys with wide eyes when they came into view. "Hey hey, princess, I got someone for you to meet!" Buck held his free hand out to point at his boyfriend. "This is Tommy. Tommy, this is Jee-Yun." She kept still in contemplation and made a humming noise up at them.

Tommy crouched down and gave her a little wave, and Buck would have laughed at the sight of such a big man making himself so small if it weren't the most endearing thing he'd seen in ages.

"Hi Jee-Yun. It's really nice to meet you," Tommy said with a quiet voice Buck'd never heard before. Jee just kept staring over at him with blinking, assessing eyes. "I really like your sparkly dress," he continued, and that seemed to do it. Jee broke out into a wide, squinty-eyed smile and let out one of those little kid laughs that melted hearts.

"Sequins," Jee said brightly; or at least tried to say, there was definitely an 's' sound in there somewhere.

The floor became their home for the next few hours, Jee happily adjusting to her new friend and toddling between the two of them, carting markers and dolls and pieces of Goldfish back and forth across the carpet. The two of them got easily talked into playing Barbies for one memorable twenty minute stretch, in which Buck learned quite a few things about Tommy's sense of fashion.

"You can't put those rain boots on Tiffany when she's wearing that dress, they don't go at all," Buck said contemptuously.

Tommy rolled his eyes. "Why not? There's yellow in the belt." He squinted and held Tiffany up a little closer to his face. "Sort of."

Buck groaned painfully. "They're way to clunky for that outfit! And it's not even raining, Tommy! Why would she be wearing rain boots?"

Tommy blinked at him for a second before slowly tilting his head up toward the ceiling. Of his very-much-indoors living room. Buck groaned louder.

Jee solved the problem easily by shoving the rain boots onto Tiffany's arms and yelling out Gloves! Buck was a little miffed he didn't think of that first.

Dolls, juice-box breaks, Buck chasing Jee around the first floor making firetruck sounds and sending Tommy into stitches from where he was still sprawled in front of the TV—the evening passed all too quickly and with more laughing than either of them had done in weeks. Which of course meant that by the time that Maddie and Chimney texted that they were going to be heading back soon, both grown men were beyond pooped and covered in more sticky substances than was probably recommended by most health codes. Jee had not decided to take it easy on the new guy, that's for sure.

Buck had handed a squirming Jee over to Tommy a bit ago while he got his niece's stuff all organized back together in her bag. By the time he'd gotten the rest of her leftover snacks out of the fridge and made a passable effort at tidying up the counters, the excitable sounds of Tommy and Jee's earlier conversations had died down and Buck decided it was about time he headed over to check up on them.

He was greeted with the sight of the two of them tucked into the couch, Jee set up on Tommy's lap with one of her new coloring books in her hand and an assortment of markers wedged into the crook of Tommy's bent knee in easy reach beside her. She was quietly and happily plugging away at one of the drawings—a startlingly pink giraffe, Buck thought he could make out—scribbling nonsensically across the page with an intently closed fist. Tommy had an arm resting along one of her sides to keep her from falling off, but the man himself was very much not paying too much attention anymore. His head was lolled back against the cushion, eyelids fluttering as he caught a few needed minutes of rest. Buck wasn't worried; he knew by the way Tommy's finger was still drawing lazy shapes along the frills of Jee's sparkly dress that Tommy'd be awake and aware in an instant if she needed him.

Buck stole a moment to just stand there and watch without either of them noticing. He took it in.

Tommy. His boyfriend. With a baby tucked happy against his chest.

Unbelievably small compared to him yet being held with all the gentleness in the world. His boyfriend and his niece. Both safe and content, on his couch.

Something tugged warm and tight behind Buck's ribs. The feeling almost toppled him over, dragged the breath from his lungs, love, pride, want.

He could have been sick with it.

He quietly padded over and lowered himself onto the cushion next to them before he could get too overwhelmed. He couldn't help himself. He leaned over and pressed a lingering kiss against where he knew Tommy's dimple was, and soon enough felt Tommy's smile underneath his lips.

"You having a good time there, Jee?" Buck asked quietly, pulling back just enough to see her. She twisted around to nod empathetically up at him.

"Uncle Tommy got me a jungle," she said, holding her booklet up with a grin, and Buck let out a surprised noise.

"Uncle Tommy, huh?" He teased, poking Tommy in the ribs and looking at him fondly. Tommy swatted his hand away and then grabbed his fingers before he could retreat too far, and Buck let him tug him in close and rest their now tangled hands against his side. Buck settled in sideways against the back of the couch and tried to push down the fondness bubbling up inside him before it burst.

"She said it earlier," Tommy said, brow furrowed just a bit. Buck wanted to press it out with his thumb. "It felt mean to correct her." Buck just hummed and squeezed his hand until he'd relaxed back into the couch again.

Tommy let him rest his forehead against his shoulder, and the three of them whiled away the next quarter hour laughing at Jee's animal noises and picking crazy colors for tigers and monkeys and toucans.

Maddie and Chimney showed up before for too long, greeting Tommy with just as much warmth as they did Buck, especially after they saw just how adamant Jee was about hanging off of Tommy's calf and not letting him go even in the face of Goldfish bribes.

Maddie and Chimney finally got her detached with the promise of an extra bedtime story, and in a flurry of side-hugs and handshakes and little versions of such for Jee, they said their goodbyes. Tommy waved them out the door with an arm around Buck's shoulders.

They stumbled up to bed that night too tired for much else other than sleep, Buck's heart skipping a beat in his chest every time he caught Tommy's eye or felt him brush against him as they moved around the loft. Tommy's strong arms wrapped around him as they drifted off. Buck pressed himself hard back into Tommy's chest and fell asleep to the feeling of feather-light kisses pressed against the back of his neck and a heart beating alongside his own.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Reunion

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, Sam Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: Dean goes to get Sam at college, but things come to a head when he tried to get you too.

“So, where is she?”

The first several minutes after leaving Stanford had been spent in silence, and Sam only broke it after realizing what was missing in the Impala.

“We’re getting her now.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Dean sighed. “Bobby’s.”

“Bobby’s?”

Dean avoided Sam’s searching gaze.

“Yeah.”

“You gonna tell me why she’s there and not with you?”

It was silent for several long minutes, and Sam was about to demand an explanation when Dean finally spoke.

“After you left, she kept begging to go and see you. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, and dad got pissed. After she…after she tried to sneak out to take a bus to you, dad dumped her at Bobby’s. That was about eight months ago, and dad hasn’t even mentioned her since.”

Sam gaped at his brother.

“You let that happen?”

Dean scoffed, “It’s not like I let dad do anything. Dad does what he does, and there was nothing I could do about it.” Dean continued to avoid Sam’s eyes. “Besides, she was safer with Bobby. She’d been asking questions about hunting that neither of us were willing to answer, and Bobby’s better at lying to her than I am.”

Despite John’s better judgment, he’d allowed Dean to raise you with no knowledge of the hunting world. You knew that Sam and Dean helped a lot of people, and you’d figured out that their job had something to do with crime—you’d realized that when you noticed how many of their cases came from reading the newspaper—but you didn’t know about monsters.

“Ok,” Sam did a horrible job of hiding his seething, but perhaps that was on purpose. “So why are we getting her now?”

Dean shrugged noncommittally.

“Well, you’re back, figured I’d make it a full reunion.”

“Right,” Sam scoffed. “And dad’s not here to stop you.”

Dean bit back a smile.

“Maybe that too.”

…

“She’s asleep,” Bobby stood with his arms crossed over his chest, blocking the staircase.

“We’re here to get her,” Dean matched his stance and his stubborn expression.

“You shoulda thought of that eight months ago.”

Sam ran a hand across his face, biting back a groan.

“Bobby, please, can we just-“

“Hush, Sam. My beef isn’t with you at the moment.”

“You can’t just keep us from-“

“I can do whatever I dang well please, Dean. She’s been with me for nearly a year, and she just unpacked her bags a few weeks ago. She kept expecting you idjits to come back and get her, but you never did.”

“Dad thought-“

“I don’t give a crap what John thought, you broke her heart. So if you’re gonna take her and raise her proper, then I’ll let you. But if you’re gonna uproot her again, only to drop her back with me the next time she starts asking questions, then it’d be better if she never saw you again.

“We’re not gonna ditch her,” Sam insisted.

“Well thanks for the input, but last I checked you were trying to leave this life behind, so your vote doesn’t count.”

“I’m not gonna leave her, Bobby.”

The conviction in Dean’s voice silenced him for a few seconds.

“And when John comes back?”

Dean shook his head, “She stays with me. No matter what he has to say about it.”

Bobby gave Dean a long, searching look. He’d never heard him openly defy John before, never even say a word against him. When the time came, would he really-

“Dean?”

Dean’s head shot up at the sound of your voice.

“Dean!” You bounded down the stairs, and when you reached the third step you leaped off, landing harshly into Dean’s arms. He staggered back a half step before steadying himself, laughing as he spun you around once before standing in place, lifting a hand to the back of your head as he held you in his arms.

Bobby watched the scene soberly for a moment, before a small smile lifted his lips. He’d gotten his answer. No one who saw the two of you right now could doubt the truth; you were Dean’s girl, and he wouldn’t abandon you.

“Hey baby,” Dean breathed.

“Are you staying?” You held your breath.

“Nope, but you’re coming with us,” Dean promised, finally setting you down.

“Really? I-“ You turned your head, spotting Sam for the first time, and you froze. “Sammy?”

He grinned, “Hey, kiddo.”

You ran into his arms.

“What are you doing here? Are you coming too?”

“Um,” Sam winced slightly, “For a little bit, yeah.”

Then you asked the question that the boys had been hoping to avoid for a bit longer.

“Where’s dad?”

“Honey,” Dean pulled you away from Sam and knelt so he could see you at eye level, placing a hand on your arm. “Dad…he hasn’t come home for a couple weeks. That’s why I got Sammy, we have to go look for him.”

You were silent for a moment.

“Is he ok?” You finally asked.

“We don’t know much right now, but we’re gonna find him, ok? I promise.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Ok.”

He sighed contentedly, and as he stood you wrapped your legs around his waist, too comfortable in his arms to let go yet.

“I missed you,” you whispered as though it was a special secret for only Dean’s ears.

Dean began to carry you up the stairs, brushing past Sam and Bobby.

Once Dean had reached your room at the top of the stairs, he leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“I missed you too,” he whispered back, before gently setting you down. “Pack up your stuff.”

Once you’d grabbed your few possessions and packed them in your backpack, you followed Dean down the stairs, stopping to hug Bobby goodbye.

“Take care of yourself, kiddo.”

You smiled, “You too, old man.”

Bobby scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Go on, get. Ya idjit.”

Sam followed you out the door, but Bobby grabbed Dean’s arm before he could leave.

“You take care of that little girl, Dean. I know you look up to your dad, you should. But don’t you be like him. You be good to her.”

“I will, Bobby,” Dean clapped a hand on Bobby’s shoulder.

“I promise.”

[blkgirl-writing]

sub!astarion thoughts?? 👀👀👀

I have so many thoughts. Some of them are a bit dark so be warned, theres a lot of trauma. also spoiler warning for act 3 and Astarions arc!

I truly just believe he's a switch and it just depends on the person he is with, because his sexuality up until the you and Astarion get into a full deep connection was based in fantasy

Astarion as a sexual person probably knows a lot about himself and what he wants but there's still definitely that need to lure and use people, so he needs to fit whatever he perceives as the perfect fantasy for whoever he is sleeping with

Once he finds himself outside of Cazador and in something stable, he would find comfort in being taken care of. Being the little spoon, taking things slow, you being the one to initiate sex, kisses, etc

I think he'd only be comfortable being more dominant again after defeating Cazador and not ascending, finally seeing he can do anything for himself and himself only if he ever wanted to

but he'd much rather do things for the both of you, now. He likes thinking for himself and another with no selfish intentions or threats

in that he'd take more control in the bedroom, but there would be a few breakdowns and needing to stop to unpack some trauma

a lot being that he's safe and here, and no one will leave him, especially you, and needing to pause or stop during intimacy is normal and perfectly ok. He can just get overwhelmed by the ghost of his past victims and his own victiomhood

there's a lot of comfort in living life to protect you, and gratefully and willingly

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@shyminnie07

[captainwinterrsoldierr]

Could you do an Apollo x reader and the reader is insecure over his past relationships and affairs and is like scared he’s gonna leave her? Bonus points if he’s her first boyfriend and she’s a daughter of poseidon. Btw I really love your writing!!

Absolutely and Ty for the req!!🫶🏽 this is a semi long one!

Title: Am I Enough?

Apollo x Fem!Reader

You paced around your cabin. Anxiety and Fear is what you felt in this moment. You should’ve felt so happy. But apart of you felt selfish. Apart of you wanted Apollo to stay as Lester. But he was back to Apollo. The great and mighty Apollo. The one known to be sworn to staying single so he can go from person to person. Ugh why did you have to fall in love with him why? Apollo just left the camp and he had promised you he’d be back tomorrow. He had other people to visit now that he was a god again

You bit your lip and felt your heart ache. Why wasn’t Percy here? You needed him more than anything. You grabbed a coin from the fountain in your Poseidon cabin. You sat on your bed and decided to Iris Message your brother. You grabbed your glass prism and created the rainbow and used your water bending to spew mist.

You giggled half heartedly at the scene. Percy was running around with cardboard boxes in his dorm. “Hi brother.” You said.

“Gah!” He yelled he dropped his box and slipped on a notebook on the ground. You winced, “sorry!”

He got up and finally saw the iris message, “seriously not used to seeing a floating face of my sister in my room,” he muttered. You smiled, “sorry sorry.” He scratched his head and smiled his troublemaker smile at you, “what’s up sis you ok?”

You nodded with no confidence, “yea yea just ya know checking up on ya.” He raised his eyebrows at you, “I know you and I know you’re lying what’s up?”

You teared up at the question, “I just- you know Apollo is back and I’m just feeling insecure I guess. I know he claims he loves me and wants to be with me but… I feel sad knowing his past. I’m scared he’ll go back to that.”

Percy pursed his lips, “listen I can threaten him for you, I mean listen sister he’s not the one if he does that to you ok. If it means anything I can sense he’s changed. He seems better than he was 7 months ago. You can ask him to subdue any bad feelings or if you want I can threaten him.”

You smiled and shook your head, “no no it’s fine just needed to let that out. You’re right. thank you Percy I’ll ask him tomorrow how he feels now.”

Percy nodded, “of course sister but if he makes a wrong step let me know and I’ll have blackjack knock him on the side of the head ya know for entertainment purposes.”

You smacked your forehead, “I love you loser have fun unpacking and tell Annabeth I said hello!” You waved goodbye and the message dissolved.

‘Everything will be ok’ You thought.

-

The next morning you were eating at the pavilion when he landed. He landed gracefully in his sun chariot. Gorgeous as ever. You nervously got up and walked over to him.

“There she is my beautiful girl!” He proudly said. You smiled weakly as he gave you a kiss on your cheek.

“Can we talk?” You asked. His eyebrows raised in immediate concern.

“Of- of course darling where shall we go?” You waved over and walked to the beach. You paced the shallow end. Water always calmed you. It always made you feel collected and at ease.

You heard Apollo gulp, “is something the matter my love?” You grimaced at the word love. You rubbed your hand on the back of your neck. You felt the words choking to come out. “Do you actually love me Apollo?”

He looked offended by the question and you felt your heart ache. “Am I the sun god? Of course I love you y/n! I love you so much my heart aches. Why do you ask such a thing did I do something wrong?”

You turned and gazed towards the water, “I know it may seem like I am confident in relationships. People always tell me ‘wow you’re so beautiful you must have a lot of people fawning over you’ but the truth is Apollo. You’re my first boyfriend. A god is my first boyfriend. It’s crazy isn’t it? And well I just know your history and you’re a god again and”-

Apollo grabbed you gently by your shoulders and pulled you into a hug. You felt yourself crying into him. He rubbed his hand on top of your head. He pulled you away and caressed your face. He wiped away your tears with his thumb. His blue eyes stared into your and you felt your worries melt away. “I promise you until the ends of this earth that I am yours and all yours. I will never look at any person the way I look at you darling.”

Your lip quivered, “really?”

He nodded and smiled, “you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried you’re stuck with me my love.”

You smiled. And threw your arms around his neck. He lifted you so effortlessly and your legs wrapped around his waist. “Gods I love you,” he whispered. He kissed you with so much want. It was everything and more. He was yours and you were his. The water behind you stirred as you two kissed. You felt it move as the kiss went longer. Your emotions had that affect on water. And you were feeling really in love in this moment. He peppered kisses on your neck, your cheeks even your forehead.

You pulled away and smiled, “I will say though if you ever hurt me I will get my brother on you.”

Apollo laughed and kissed your neck, “fully noted.”

You two continued to laugh and kiss feeling blissful.

[angry-tarot]

a message from your pain

talking about suffering is hard, but ultimately necessary. welcome to this pac, I am here to shed light on your wounds in ways that are helpful. by the way, sorry if the artwork is triggering, I tried to find the perfect ones that really encapsulate what deep pain and despair feel like, but the messages might be more soothing than the pics lol.

welcome to your reading ! just wanted to say thanks in advance for stopping by 🫡

Pile one 🖤

You're putting your sword down. Confrontation is a no no for you, isn't it? You rather die than pick up a fight again. You swallow your words, your boundaries are non existent, you're constantly on edge and anxious. Hear me out, pile one. When you're putting your sword down, you're not actually putting it down. You're shoving it right in your own stomach. I'm not telling you to become angry and start fighting everyone around you. But if you keep quiet, taking it all in, you're going to become sick. You want to keep the peace, but not your peace. You want to keep yourself small, not bothersome, for these people's comfort. If talking to the people around you is so conflict inducing, why bother having these people around at all? If your boundaries aren't heard or even allowed to be set, why bother having these people around you AT ALL? If you must live with them, consider moving somewhere more peaceful, like a family member. Take action if your words aren't welcomed. Leave. Remove yourself. Stop taking in poison, because the longer you do, the longer the healing will take. You're already feeling awful. Your suffering exist because you feel obligated to be around people who hurt you and demand you to be silent. Set yourself free. And don't try to talk to them about it. You will have to unpack all of this on your own, or with other people who will understand and hear you. Process everything you buried deep within you by journaling, speaking out loud, punching a pillow. Just let it all out. Short them you will have to slowly heal from all this crystalized, internalized abuse. Long term, recognize this pattern: whenever you feel the need to be quiet to not bother someone else, leave, and never go back to the people who did this to you.

Pile two 🖤

Oh, your pile actually resonates with the pic you chosen. I see an artist, a creative or someone who does something out of the norm. You could even be a witch, like me. The thing is, you have internalized a lot of criticism, and no longer feel as passionate as you did before. You want to create and be who you were before, but you lost your drive and motivation. It seems a lot of conflict used to exist or still exists because of your hobby, career or spirituality, and you felt like it lost the point. You could've tried to prove something to these people, you could've tried to argue, and nothing worked. Even your own progress wasn't matching to your expectations. So what if they were right? Your spark died, but now that you have worked so hard, it's hard to let go. It became your personality, it used to be your comfort, but now there's only a shadow of what it used to be. I'm not going to tell you whether you keep going or not, this is your decision. But you can regain the spark if you want to. But try to protect it better this time, whatever it is that you do. Hide it, if it is possible. Avoid taking about it to people who are committed to misunderstanding you. And go backwards. Reconnect with it, by understanding what made you so fascinated and entranced by it in the beginning. Maybe, that vision is no longer appealing, and if so, create another one. Restart from scratch, but have a vision, just like you did in the beginning. Say to yourself you are committed to falling in love again with your craft, if that's what you choose. If not, it's always ok to let it go. You can always find another something to be passionate about.

Pile three 🖤

Someone taught you that money was the only thing in life. That it defined your worth and value as a person. That nothing else was as important. That your safety was defined by the amount of money you had, from a young age or a very vulnerable period in your life. So your mind attached to the idea that if you didn't had money, you were in mortal danger, you were worthless and a nobody. Your relationship with money, regardless of how much you have or not, is distorted. You could be stable and still feel like it's not enough, or you could be just starting in adulthood and feeling very scared of the future. Money is important, yes. But it's exactly this fear, this pressure, this feeling like your life depends on it, it's paralyzing you, it's traumatizing and deeply agonizing. What will help you is basically lots of cbt. Ever heard of catastrophizing? Cognitive distortions? These could be playing a large role on your mindset and consequently, the amount of money you're able to make. These tools of cbt can help you relax and see things a bit more rationally. Since it's personal to each of you, I cannot fix your fears, but I can give you some of my tools for you to fix them yourself.