#we all go apeshit over i love her with every breath i breathe

[samreiddaily]

You are above reducing yourself for the sake of rank. I pray he would marry you without a penny to your name, for that is a man who would truly treasure you.

sam reid as john davinier in belle (2013) dir. amma asante

[hellsurvivr]

         THE FACT HE TOOK A WHILE,  to get out of the room. helped her immensely. as it gave her time not only, to take her tablets. but to ease her hangover. as well as work through what the fuck she was going to say. as whilst she had said a lot whilst drunk, she knew further details were needed. she knew she needed to confirm things. as well as discuss the potential partner that was loitering over their heads. for her instagram pictures [ ... ] whilst initially being petty. had probably done some damage, to the potential of anything happening. and it was just another thing she regretted. when it came to andrei. (    lord was she building herself a huge list at this point !    )  and whilst the words form inside her mind, she knows that no sense of order could come from this. no sense of closure. for she had to rip the band-aids off many wounds. she had to let them bleed in front of Andrei. and whilst normally she'd run in the opposite direction. right now she knew there was no other option. then to simply deal with it all.

                she watches him   ━   as his questions settle in the air.   and she takes a deep breathe. fingers tapping idly against the cup in her hands. as she thinks on how to answer. she wasn't hiding her words, she just knew he needed them in a way, that was nothing but truth. (    she was done hiding !    )   

          ❛   it started innocently. when you left i realised what i'd fucked up. by lying and saying i didn't want more. so i drank to forget you. just in my apartment, and only to sleep. but soon it got worse, till i was out in the clubs. pictured drunk off my ass, and with a different guy every night. a guy i was using to chase your memory away.   ❜   she sighs softly. knowing some of her words, were the same as she'd said last night. at least about using guys to get rid of his memory. and right now she didn't even want to think on how, he'd admitted he'd done the same. she couldn't think on that. (   she couldn't let herself hope !   )    taking a swig of coffee, she lowers it down and returns to tapping her fingers against the edge.   ❛   then six months after you left. my loan deal was up and my agent told me we had bayern interested. a loan to begin with, but buying options on the table. so i flew to munich, got settled in the hotel and everything. even got dressed the next day for the meeting and potential medical .....   ❜    she trails off   ━   needing a few minutes.   as none of this was easy tor recall. to relive. ❛   but i couldn't do it. knowing i'd be near you and couldn't have you. so instead i went and got drunk, so drunk i didn't even know my own name. and then i got behind the wheel of a car !   ❜    she shivers, as the memory slams into her. rendering her speechless, as the mental memory of screams and shattered glass. rings in her mind.

          ❛   i caused an accident, and it led to everyone finding out i was drinking again. my agent went apeshit. and bayern told me they'd take me if i was sober and i had to be for a year. passing weekly piss tests to prove it. then that contract is mine. not until. so my agent brought me out here. to the other club interested, as i try and work on being sober. and it's how drakos found me.   ❜   she can't help but snort softly. realising just how ironic the whole conversation was. she was admitting to the man she loved. how bad she fucked up. in hope of fixing things. (   like that would work !   )    still she stands, needing to move from the angsty feeling in her legs. ❛   he'd gotten himself sober, even met a guy as turns out he's gay. but he wanted to help me get clean, to achieve bayern like it had been mine and my dads dream. and it was working. i was sober, i was passing the tests with his help, with my moms, given she lives here. till i learnt you and the team were coming and just ..... i lost track of it all again.   ❜    she trails off   ━   letting it all settle in.   her fingers finding the contract that was still on the kitchen island. as a constant reminder. turning the page to her requirements. she settles it next to him. the black and white proof. that she has to be sober. to even have bayern interested. further proof. of how far she's fallen. how broken she's become.

As much as he hated to admit it to himself, this was one of the more peaceful nights of sleep for him. Not that he couldn’t sleep without her, he could, but there was a different feeling when he knew she was with him. It wasn’t entirely something he could explain and he was sure it was something he didn’t want to do either. The main reason being he was sure he’d make all of this words, explaining how he felt was never his strong suit and considering how everything was going now? Him adding to the confusion wasn’t needed, even if lines were blurring ever so slightly. All done subconsciously in his sleep as he was pulled to her like a magnet, finding his arms around her once more as the two naturally couldn’t help but be near one another. It had felt like a part of him was whole again, no doubt the reason for his peaceful night’s sleep despite the night’s turn events. However, it wasn’t meant to stay that way. The few hours of peace only being interrupted by the sun breaking through the blinds to remind him that yesterday wasn’t a dream and he was nowhere near the hotel room he had woken up in yesterday morning. Everything discussed had flooded back into his mind, making him slowly register it all. Green gaze looking down to see his arms wrapped around her, causing him to pull away and lay on his back as a hand lifted to pinch the bridge of his nose. She wasn’t his, why did he think he could that? No matter how much he had wanted?

Internally he curses himself for the action done when she had someone else, something he should have refrained from no matter what. Maybe he should have taken the couch after she fell asleep, but he had been so tired and drained from before. Even now, rested, he felt the tired slowly wish to sink into his bones again at the thought of what was to come. Attention shifts when she speaks up, hand moving from his nose as he looked over to his side. “Morning…” He mumbles back as green gaze catching hazel. If looks alone could talk, he’d know more than he would have to ask about. It would have saved the pain of the discussion that was no doubt going to last some time. The glance felt like an eternity, but he had to tear himself away at some point and so he does when he sees her move. An excuse to him to turn back to looking ahead and up at the ceiling. “Right, yeah.” He takes in a breath and waits for her to leave the room before lifting large frame from the bed and moving over to the bathroom. Handling himself, he goes to the sink to then wash his hands and splash some cold water on his face. Something to wake him up and ready himself before going out into the living room where she was no doubt waiting to talk. What he hadn’t expected was to walk out and see plates of food being made. Andrei didn’t think he took that long but then again he hadn’t immediately gotten out of bed.

The smile was met with a small, weak one of his own while he moves to sit at a barstool on the island in her kitchen. The coffee cup taken in hand and easily sipped, she remembered how he liked it. Not that it was shocking, he knew how her memory was by now. It also meant she hadn’t wanted to forget. His gaze, however, remained down and locked on the plate of pancakes as the mug is lowered to the top of the island. How does one start a conversation like this? A deep breath taken in and let out slowly through his nose as jaw tensed. “What happened?” He questions, pancakes untouched. “You turned back to alcohol, the contract next to the wine bottle, what happened?”

[edoro]

May I ask for your extremely normal thoughts on this episode?

takes a deep breath

dissolves into a screaming puddle of goo

things i am Extremely Normal About:

-Philip's continuing obsession with Luz

-the way her insulting his fashion sense clearly GENUINELY HURT HIS FEELINGS? oh my godddd bro she is not your friend she doesn't LIKE you but that's not gonna stop him

-the way he irritatedly corrects her from 'emperor of the witch hunters' to 'witch-hunter general' this man is such a bitch and also just SO deep in his own twisted little game of make-believe like. just really zero concept of what's going on here for real.

-he is so obsessed with her it's so fucking creepy. the way that it was her crying and begging while saying his Real Name that got him to agree with her? oh my god, Philip, dude.

-the way he just unleashed 300 years of barely restrained Bitch Energy on Kiki in one moment of nuclear weapons-grade cruelty because he's tired of being nice and he DOES want to go apeshit and it like visibly immediately improved his entire demeanor, there's not even anything physically wrong with him actually he is literally just such a bitch that the sheer effort of holding it back for that long caused him to experience the symptoms of every disease ever

-GRANDPA BODY HORROR GRANDPA BODY HORROR

-"Hunter why are you hurting me :(" shut the entire fuck up oh my god i'm going to put this old man in tupperware and leave him in the back of the fridge for a year

-Caleb name reveal + ABSOLUTE BATSHIT FREAKOUT GRANDPA BODY HORROR

-the Collector is genuinely fucking terrifying. immortal godchild kidthing with unspeakable cosmic powers and 0 concept of morality or that other people are real or can be hurt or that his actions have consequences. i love him so much. genuinely so much more frightening than Philip's banal malice tbh.

-the Collector is So Fucking Traumatized this kid is so fucked up holy shit they are NOT okay. cannot imagine what the last 300+ years of having no one but Philip "molestation Georg*" Wittebane for company has done to them

(*lives in a cave and has groomed or attempted to groom every child he's ever met jesus FUCKING christ someone put this man in a jar and put the jar in a lead-lined box at the bottom of the sea)

-The Collector Is My Sonthing Now. yes he has done everything wrong ever no i don't care.

-EVIL BODY HORROR GRANDPA GETTING TWIRLED UP LIKE A FORKFUL OF SPAGHETTI AND THEN SPLORCHED. "i'm not even mad tho" man he knew he had fucked up, i love how we finally got to see Philip Experiencing A Consequence

-obsessed with how brutal and unceremonious that was tbh. like. i was just sitting there like Is He Actually Fucking Dead. Is That How They Disposed Of Philip. Oh My God. everyone else watching in utter horror because that was incredibly fucked up. the way Hunter was crying about it because That Was His (evil and unspeakably abusive sure but still) Uncle and that's so fucked up for him to have to see. his hesitance in stepping in the goop puddle. the malicious goo dribble ugh ugh ugh Leave Him Alone Philip Please.

-GOO GRANDPA IN THE HUMAN REALM WHAT CRIMES WILL HE COMMIT

-i love Raine ripping off Eda's arm. i feel like, you know the bit where Darius stopped fighting bc Healing Coven Head was about to kill Eberwolf? i think Raine would have done the math on how quick they could get the replacement Beastkeeping Coven Head up there now that it was all underway and Belos was gone vs how much longer til the eclipse was over and decided they could bear that moral weight on their conscience forever if it meant they and everyone else lived to see the end of this

-GUS? CRYING?? THE WAY HUNTER WAS PROTECTIVELY HOLDING HIM? THEY MEAN SO MUCH TO ME AUUUUGH

-SNEAKY KIKI SNEAKY KIKI god i love her she's so horrible and so good and i simply adore her

-the pit of like DOZENS OF MURDERED GOLDEN GUARDS okay. what is WRONG with Philip like what happened to his brain to make him this way.

-the way they left Alador behind like he was going to Divert The Horde in a zombie movie LMAO it's okay Amity. it's better this way. now you can pretend he would have been a good dad instead of having to live with the ongoing realization that even his best would be crushingly mediocre.

-Alador trying to hit Hunter with the "loyal soldier of the Emperor" accusation and then trying to dad voice him immediately afterwards when that doesn't work. sir. pick one. also lmao love the Shit Dad Driving Experience. terrible driver gets mad when you point it out and actively endangers all of you because now he's distracted yelling at you. his Shit Dad Energies are just so huge, i love it.

-i'm just obsessed with Philip and the Collector oh my god. horror horror horror. there is so much wrong with both of them and they're so fucked up together jfc. never going to get over it.

-it took me literally four hours to watch the episode.

[softquietsteadylove]

So, I live for chaos. I had this idea where Jack has some sort of competition in a school activity of his, whether it be soccer, football, or whatever, and of course there’s that one parent that thinks their kid is better than everyone else’s and isn’t very nice when talking about the other kids *cough cough* Karen. This person then starts to talk about Jack and Thena nearly goes apeshit on their ass while Gil defends her actions with “Well, they deserved it” and Phastos scolds Thena for it (even though he kind of wanted to do the same thing but he wants to set a good example for his kid) and she just doesn’t care. Can you maybe write it please?

Also, I absolutely LOVE your work! The way you write Thena and Gil is some of the best writing I’ve seen! That’s not even an exaggeration.

"What is the purpose of this activity?"

"To get the ball into the other team's net."

Thena's head moved like a sprinkler head, smooth and steady as she tracked the ball across the field and back again. "They're not very good at it."

"They're kids," Gil chuckled beside her, also watching the game's progress. "They're not going to be good at it for a while."

Despite the criticism, Thena watched intently as Jack took the ball, running as fast as little feet could take him. She inhaled, holding it as he kicked towards the goal.

It missed by a mile and a half.

"That's okay, Jack!" Phastos shouted from beside her, clapping for his son and waving. "It's okay, son!"

"Good effort!" Ben cheered from next to his husband.

Thena didn't offer any vocal support. But when Jack looked over at them she gave him a singular nod of approval. He didn't answer his fathers at all but he returned the hilariously serious gesture. It seemed to motivate him.

"Jack Stoss needs to learn to aim."

"Easy," Gil grabbed Thena's arm, already feeling her ready to turn around and something not very guardians-of-Earth-ly to the woman behind them.

"You heard what she said," she argued, but Gilgamesh held her, firm but not hard. He released her arm only when his had wrapped around her waist securely.

"I know," he whispered. He knew Phastos had heard her, even if Ben's human ears might not have. "But she's just...being petty."

"Y'know he has missed four practices this season?--Aiden hasn't missed a single one."

Thena bristled, still listening to the woman criticise her nephew. "If she wishes to see a demonstration of pettiness, I am happy to provide it."

"Yes, Jack, kick it!" Phastos shouted, holding up his fists hopefully as Jack came around to their end again.

It missed by less, this time.

"He's going to be the reason they lose."

Gil was quick, clasping Thena's hands entirely between his, squeezing them shut to hide the golden glow of Cosmic Energy. He kissed her cheek, nestling her closer to him as an excuse, "we swore--no harm comes to any human by our own hand."

"They should put him on the bench."

Thena pursed her lips, although she did let her Energy recede. "Are we sure she's human?"

"Hey, I don't like her either." Thena raised her brows as her brother nudged her. She was under the impression he was playing ignorant to the piercing voice behind them, but it seemed she had been mistaken in that. "But Karen is in charge of snacks every other week. If we piss her off, she'll 'forget how many to bring' again."

The woman would let the other children starve to ensure the success of her own?

Gil read the expression well and shook his head. "Try to ignore her."

"Aiden, make that goal!"

Thena squinted, feeling the woman's breath rustling her hair from behind as she leaned over to scream with all her might. She glanced at Gil, "I do not see how that will be at all possible."

"Go, Jack!" Ben shouted, ignorant - maybe wilfully so - to his husband and his siblings and their quarrels.

"Let's go, buddy!" Gil shouted, raising one hand to project his voice while the other stayed firmly around Thena's waist to anchor her to him.

"That's it!" Phastos clenched his fists again.

It got in. It got in!

"That's my boy!" Phastos jumped, wrapping one arm around Ben while the other waved to their son.

Thena blinked as Jack looked at her. She smiled, offering a wave. It wasn't the screaming cheers of his parents, but he beamed, sending her a thumbs up.

"At least he did something this season."

Thena raised her brows. She'd had enough. It took a little precision, but she was still the Warrior Eternal; they all sat once the excitement had died down, waiting for the handshake to finish before they took the kids home. Thena slipped her hand behind her, pressing her palm to the underside of the next level up.

She only needed a finite amount of Energy to summon her smallest weapon.

"Ow!"

Gil and Phastos both turned around as the woman yelped, falling onto her seat in response. She pulled her shoe off, looking to see what was the cause of her pain but found nothing.

Thena remained facing ahead, waving as Jack trotted away from centre field. She felt Gil's hand tap her shoulder but she shrugged, the absolute picture of innocence.

[nadisabug]

How You Meet // Volleyball! reader

Pairing: Bokuto Kotaro / Nishinoya Yu / Oikawa Tooru x fem! volleyball! reader

Genre: Crack. Pure crack.

Warnings: cursing

Word Count: 2.5 k 

Summary: You are a volleyball player in the same position as the boy, and he is taken aback at your beauty and skills. 

A/N: all of the boys would just be so supportive and hrng need me a volleyball boy

Haikyuu Masterlist

Bokuto K. 

Bokuto would prolly be the one that suggested cheering for the Fukurodani girls team

Like he and his bros are bored between matches

And he notices the girls are on in a different court

So he manages to drag akaashi and a couple others to go watch with him

So they enter the stands...

Bokuto walk through the door to the stands and he is immediately blown away.

"Y/n!" Your setter nearly screams. You, eyes still trained on the blockers across from you, answer with a small smirk that sends Bokuto's head spinning.

"Here I come!" You yell in response, vocalizing your claim on the ball. You squat then set off running towards the net. At the last moment you push off of your feet and jump, albeit not as high as Bokuto could, but high nonetheless for your stature. Your arm shoots up and makes contact with the ball with a satisfying smack.

In front of you are two freakishly tall blockers, and Bokuto doesn't know how you'll get the ball past. But, as soon as the ball leaves your hand, it seems to find a small gap in their block and blows past it, landing on the other side of the court in the blink of an eye.

Once everyone lands on the floor again, both teams look up at the referee. He blows his whistle and raises his arm towards the Fukurodani side of the court. The Fukurodani girls erupt into cheers and surround the girl apparently named Y/n.

The setter cheers, claps Y/n on the back and shouts. "That's our ace!"

Bokuto watches her in awe as she flashes a gorgeous smile and shyly tucks a stray hair behind her ear.

"C'mon, are you gonna sit or just stand there like an idiot?" Akaashi tugs Bokuto by the back of his collar, not giving him a choice to stand there for longer.

"She's the ace..." Bokuto mumbles dreamily.

"Yeah no shit, that was insane, blowing through that block." Akaashi mutters, no choice but to agree. He drags Bokuto to where the rest of the team has already sat down and pulls him into the seat.

"She's amazing," Bokuto breathes, his eyes still locked on you.

"Quit it before you start drooling," Akaashi rolled his eyes.

But Bokuto couldn't. From your receives to your serves, every movement you made he was mesmerized. And before he knew it Fukurodani had won consecutive sets.

Once he saw you and your team leave the court, he shot up from his seat.

"I've gotta meet her!"

Akaashi looked up at him with wide eyes. "Wait-"

But Bokuto was already leaping over chairs and scrambling to the door. Akaashi stood up too and, with a resigned sigh, followed him too.

Bokuto didn't stop running until he made it to the first floor. He skidded around a corner and finally locked eyes with you. He couldn't help himself and ran up to you, absolutely panting from the running he had done.

"You-" pant "were fucking" pant "amazing!"

Embarrassment flooded your system and you looked down at the floor nervously. The setter walked up and put herself in between you and Bokuto.

"Back away from our ace, owl-boy," she hissed. "Don't think we didn't notice you drooling over our captain during the game."

Normally you would be more confident, but once one of your teammates pointed out the boy in the stands going absolutely apeshit for you, it started to eat at you. The embarrassment of a guy - a hot one at that - calling your name from the stands and drawing everyone's attention was just too much for you.

"You're the captain too? No wonder! I am too, Im-"

"Bokuto Kotaro, I know who you are," you cut him off and put your hand on your setters shoulder. "It's okay, I can handle him."

Warily, your setter backed down and joined the rest of the team cooling down.

"You know who I am?" Bokuto beamed, his chest puffing up.

"Of course," you rolled your eyes. "You're one of Japan's top five aces. And you go to our school."

"Why hadn't I ever seen you before?" Bokuto gushed.

It was at this point that Akaashi finally caught up. "Because you leave all the grunt work to me," he sighed. He looked at you and gave you a slight nod. "Y/n."

"Akaashi," you smiled and replied.

"You know her?" Bokuto nearly yelled.

"Duh," Akaashi rolled his eyes. "We coordinate stuff together like the buses or practice."

"I wanna know her," Bokuto pouted at Akaashi. Akaashi rolled his eyes and sighed.

"What he's asking if you'd go get lunch with him sometime," Akaashi looked at you, speaking for Bokuto.

You felt a heat rising to your cheeks. 

“Sure,” you smiled. It couldn’t hurt to go out with the absolute hottie who was cheering for you all game. 

“Great!” Bokuto shouted and grabbed your hand. He started pulling you away from your team. 

“W-wait, right now?” You looked back at your setter for help, but she just shrugged. 

“I’ll cover for you!” She called as you got dragged away by the excited boy. 

You had no idea what you were in for. 

Nishinoya Y. 

Noya was definitely the one who suggested watching the girls

Girls playing his favorite sport?? What could be better?

He was able to drag most of Kurasuno to watch the girls 

Daichi ofc came to support the other captain, Yui Michimiya

But little did he know after he sat down that he was in for a big surprise

The whistle blew and a girl with h/c hair stood at the sidelines with her sign. She and another girl from the team switched out, and when they did there was a commotion in the stands. 

“Oh my god, finally! L/n is back in!” A girl in the row in front of the boys cheered.

“I know, I still can’t get over her last receive,” the other girl gushed. 

Noya looked back at you and noted the reversed colors of your jersey. 

So, she’s a libero huh, he thought to himself. He looked you closer and thought that you were a little cute. 

The game resumed and a long volley started. It looked like it was about to end when the other team set up for an unblocked spike. The setter had feinted and sent all the blockers to cover another spiker so that their one player could hit unmarked. Not a single soul was on that side of the court, and Noya could feel himself wincing as the spiker hit the ball. That was going to hurt. They were already down too many points and really didn’t stand a chance of winning. 

He waited for the ball to hit the ground, but in the blink of an eye, you were there and the ball was up. 

You called the name of your setter and quickly she set it up for one of your spikers. Since the other team had thought the had this in the bag, they were not ready for the counter attack and Kurasuno got the point. 

“Did you see that?” Hinata gushed and leaned over Noya’s shoulder. “She totally just did rolling thunder! She was like whoosh and swoosh and the bam!”

Noya nodded enthusiastically. “That was an amazing receive!” 

After that, Noya began cheering every time you made a receive, even if it wasn’t a hard one. You started noticing very early on and part of your attention was focused on the short king in the stands. You did your best to ignore it and keep your head in the game, but its kind of hard to ignore a hot boy cheering for every move you make. 

You were almost glad when the game was over. 

“Hey, Y/n,” one of your blockers smirked. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a fan.”

“I will murder you with my bare hands,” you growled, tired of the team’s teasing. They had not let up on the whole fan thing since Noya had started up in the stand, and frankly, you were tired of it. 

“Ouch, save some of your love for your boyfriend,” the blocker smiled. She then looked at something behind you and smiled even wider. 

“He’s not my boyfriend! Listen if I see that guy again, all shit will break loose- what? What are you smiling- oh.” You turned around to see the boy in the stands standing awkwardly behind you. 

“Hi,” he smiled and waved. He was acting quite demure, a stark contrast from his shenanigans in the stands. Now that he was closer, you kinda had to admit. He was kind of, sort of cute. “You were really good out there. Really impressive. Sorry if my cheers were distracting, you were just so good.”

You seemed to have lost your steam, because you couldn’t bring yourself to yell at this genuinely kind and supportive boy. Instead you rubbed the back of your neck nervously and broke eye contact. “Uh, thanks,” was all you could mumble. 

“Wanna practice together sometime?” He suggested, a nervous smile on his face. 

“Yeah sure, if you can keep up,” you responded. 

“Oh don’t worry, about me,” he puffed out his chest dramatically. 

“Okay,” you laughed a little. You pulled out your phone and handed it to him. He looked at you quizically for a second. “Number?”

At that he flushed bright red. “Oh, uh, yeah,” he stumbled over his words, typing his number in quickly. Once he was done he handed the phone back. 

“I’ll text you sometime,” you smiled and walked back to your team. Immediately after you turned around you heard an energetic voice shout. 

“Did Noya-senpai just get a date?”

After that you heard a scuffle that you only assumed was Noya silencing the other boy. 

Oikawa T. 

Okay lets be honest

The last place he wanted to be was in the stands watching girls play

First of all he could have his ~fans~ doting on him

Second of all he could be practicing

Third of all he could be watching the team they were slotted to go up against next

But all of those other options were out of the question when Iwaizumi decided that Oikawa needed a break

(and also didn’t need to be near his fans)

So grumpily Oikawa will sit in the stands to watch your game, but he’s not really watching

Instead he’s watching a match on his phone

that is until Iwaizumi says something that peaks his interest...

“Holy fuck, that’s the captains fourth service ace.”

Oikawa frowned. It was a simple sentence really, one he had heard a million times. The difference was that usually it was aimed at him, not someone else. 

Oikawa looked up from his phone to see who was apparently the  Aoba Johsai girl’s team captain. It was hard to tell from this far away, but Oikawa’s senses told him that she was a looker. The way she carried herself it was obvious that she was confident in what she was doing, and that to Oikawa was enough. 

He put down his phone and leaned forward in his chair. He was invested now, whether he liked it or not. 

He watched as the referee blew their whistle and you lined up for your serve. You threw the ball up and jumped, hitting it mid air and sending it straight to the other teams side. It landed in bounds with a satisfying thwack, completely unimpeded by the other team’s girls. 

Iwaizumi let out a low whistle. “That’s five.”

“I can count, thanks,” Oikawa snapped dryly. 

Iwaizumi looked over, cocking his eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were paying attention.”

“Well I am now.”

Iwazumi shrugged and turned back to the game. You lined up for your next serve and hit it, but this time the other team’s libero picked it up. After that your team had a chance ball. 

Oikawa huffed. 

“What, shittykawa?”

“She should have kept aiming at their number 4. She got confident aiming for their libero,” Oikawa stated matter-of-factly. 

“How do you know she was aiming for the libero?” Iwaizumi retorted. “What if it was just on accident?”

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “You don’t get five services aces and not be able to aim in the air.”

Iwaizumi shrugged. “I’m just saying it could have been an accident. Like you said, she was on a roll aiming and scoring off of their number four. Why would she switch that up?”

Oikawa pursed his lips. 

“You never know unless you ask,” Iwaizumi added slyly. “Not that you will.”

Oikawa whirled on Iwaizumi. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean,” Iwaizumi started without looking over at Oikawa. “You don’t talk to girls unless they fawn all over you.”

“Not true,” Oikawa huffed.

Iwaizumi just shrugged. 

“That’s not true!” Oikawa repeated in frustration. 

“Then prove it,” Iwaizumi replied bluntly. 

“Besides, how do you know she won’t like me?”

Iwaizumi laughed. 

“What?” Oikawa grit his teeth, starting to get annoyed at Iwaizumi. 

“You don’t remember?” Iwaizumi shot Oikawa a side glance. 

Oikawa just glared at Iwaizumi. 

“Hey, fine.” Iwaizumi sighed. He turned back to the game. “You hit on her at school a while back and she didn’t give you the time of day.”

Oikawa snorted. “I do not ‘hit on’ people.”

Iwaizumi shrugged. 

“Fine, come with me then,” Oikawa nearly growled. He got up from his seat and marched away. Iwaizumi sighed but got up. The game was already over and he was upset that he couldn’t enjoy it, but what did he expect from watching it with Oikawa. 

Oikawa stomped his way all the way downstairs and was a fuming mess when he finally stopped in front of you. You waved off the teammates you were walking with to go ahead and stopped to see what The Oikawa Tooru wanted from you. 

“Did you purposefully aim for the libero after the five service aces?” He growled. 

“I don’t know what crawled up your ass, but usually you’re supposed to congratulate someone on that kind of shit,” you smirked, enjoying Oikawa’s bad mood.  

“Congratulations,” he forced a smile and said sweetly. “Now did you or did you not?” 

You grinned. “How about we make a deal?”

Oikawa cocked an eyebrow but let you continue. 

“You watch out next game, and let me know if I did.”

Oikawa scoffed. “That’s hardly a deal that favors me.”

“You’re smart,” you shrugged. “You’ll figure it out.” You took your leave at that, leaving Oikawa behind, still frustrated. 

But he couldn’t help but want to watch your next game, for some odd reason. Maybe this deal wasn’t too bad. 

Taglist: {OPEN}

[ptergwen]

hi ! i have an arvin request .. what if arvin easily gets jealous when boys try to hit on y/n at school or try to talk to her and it was cute at first but then y/n starts to get annoyed by it which leads to a small fight but arvin making it up to her w flowers and telling her he jus wants to protect her 🥺🥺

a/n: i really liked this one 🥺

it’s in arvin’s nature to watch over everyone he loves, no matter how much trouble it might get him in. he’ll always have an arm secured around you. he stares down anyone who looks your way for too long. he cares about you the most, and this is how he shows it.

sometimes, it can be a little excessive. school is the main issue. the boys never seem to leave you or really any girl alone. flirting, making kissing noises, the whole thing. they do it right in front of arvin, too. not that they pay any mind to it, they don’t like him. you push away whichever boy is bugging you with awkward laughs as arvin clenches his jaw next to you.

the first incident only mildly upset him. then again, mildly upset for arvin is off the walls for anyone else. he’s just really passionate about, well, you.

“damn bastard if i ever saw one,” arvin muttered once you were in his car. “i didn’t like how he was talkin’ to you.” you’d put a hand on his bicep and squeezed, willing him to look at you instead of glaring out the front window. “who cares what he says? i wasn’t even listening.” he still felt tense under your touch.

“not a way to talk to a girl. ‘specially not mine,” he’d huffed out, a small smile pulling at your lips. the mine part was what got you. “i’m fine, arv. we’re fine,” you spoke softer that time. his doe eyes met yours, longing for more reassurance. “are we?” you’d hummed and stroked your thumb across his arm. that was able to finally settle him down.

after that, it becomes a pattern you two follow. a boy approaches you, arvin goes apeshit, and you have to spend your afternoon doing and saying whatever you can to calm him down. you’re getting tired of the green eyed monster possessing him every week. this is becoming ridiculous.

he’d fought with you the whole way back to your house today. someone asked you out to a drive in later. obviously, you said no because you already have a boyfriend. you’d made sure to mention that part. it wasn’t good enough for arvin, though. he’s officially lost it.

“let it go, arvin,” you grumble as you walk through your door, arvin slamming it shut behind you. “i’ve been letting it go. when’s it gonna end?” he demands and follows you up the stairs. you’re heading to your room so your parents don’t hear any of this. they’re already skeptical of arvin as is.

“you’re asking the wrong person!” you shout, speed walking into your room. he’s not far behind you. “he came up to me. they all do.” “then i’ll fuckin’... i’ll do something about it,” arvin decides, his voice getting lower as a plan forms in his mind. “jesus, you can’t fight your way out of everything,” you murmur and rub your temples in exhaustion.

that particular comment makes every last bit of anger in him bubble over. he yells something stupid back, something he wishes he could take back the second it leaves his mouth. “and you can’t fuck every guy in town!” his words surprise the both of you. he reaches for you, but you back away. “darlin’, i-“ “get out,” you spit, hot tears in your eyes. “go the fuck home.”

you don’t see arvin again for the rest of the week.

he’s been worrying like hell about how you’re doing. if you’re getting home safe without him driving you, how your assignments are going. there’s nothing he hates more than the fact that he made you cry. he’ll never forgive himself for it. hopefully, you’ll be able to.

arvin drives over to your place before school, a full week after not speaking. his grandma suggested bringing you something. he stole a few flowers from their vase on the kitchen table and was on his way. there’s not much time, so that’s the best he could do.

he pulls up by the curb as you’re leaving. you stop in the middle of the lawn, a frustrated frown setting on your face.

“need a ride?” arvin asks through the rolled down window. instead of answering him, you start to walk. it’s actually an answer within itself. “shit,” he cusses under his breath and gets out of the car. you’re down the sidewalk by the time he catches up to you, flowers in his back pocket so you don’t see them.

“y/n/n. can we talk about this, baby?” he sounds exhausted. tired of chasing you to no avail. you finally spin around, making him stumble backwards. “what is there to talk about? you said something shitty, and i’m not over it.” you drop your hands to your sides. “i wanna apologize to you,” arvin drawls, reaching into his pocket.

“you’re gonna make me late for school,” you huff, but don’t entirely mean it. you’re interested to see where this is going. he pulls out three yellow tulips and takes your hand, closing your fingers around them. your stern gaze softens as you look down at the makeshift bouquet you’re holding.

“i’m sorry, really sorry for how i acted,” arvin speaks lowly, his hand still over yours. you look up at him as he talks. “i didn’t mean to get so jealous. just,” he lets out a breath. “people do bad things around here. i don’t want you talkin’ to the wrong guy one of these times.” your eyebrows furrow in concern. arvin gulps quietly. “i’m... i’m sorry.”

his hand leaves yours when it shakes, at the thought of something horrible that he can’t stop happening to you. you’re starting to understand where he came from.

“you had good intentions, arv. i know that now,” you assure him and twirl around the tulips by their stems. “doesn’t mean you should take your anger out on me.” he nods in reflection to your fight, starting down at the sidewalk. “that wasn’t right of me, saying that to you. wish i’d never done it.”

putting your free hand on his shoulder, you give him a sad smile. “thanks for the flowers.” “not a problem, darlin’,” arvin mumbles and scratches his gelled back hair out of habit. “anything for you.” a real smile takes over your features, one that arvin notices from his peripherals. “we should probably go now. i’ll take that ride.”

[thebigqueer]

Omg would love to read something about plague!will going apeshit in battle after Nico gets hurt or something

ooooh yes!!! thank you for the prompt!!

i hope you like this! 

i’m literally gonna do minimum editing lmao

okay literally whoops i made it a lot longer and the prompt starts later my bad asljkfskljfd sorry anon

tw for descriptive imagery & blood

It’s a normal night at Camp Half-Blood, with demigods in their respective cabins, sleeping either fitfully or dreamlessly. After all, there is no in-between for demigods.

And that is no different for Will, who tosses and turns in his bed, sweat prickling his forehead.

Visions of Tartarus flicker across his dreams, memories of monsters and heat and pure agony. The aches and pains from previous injuries return in their full heat, with no mercy for Will.

The dreams consume him, taking away any consciousness and tying him to the memories. Sometimes it takes fifteen minutes to wake Will up at all, even if he’s being shaken. And when he is shaken awake, he merely stares at the ceiling, a blank, glassy look in his eyes. Sometimes he stays there until afternoon. Sometimes he’s in his cabin until the evening.

He’s in there until he can convince himself that nothing’s going to risk his life the moment he steps outside. 

Tonight is one of those lucky moments where Will doesn’t have to be literally thrown around the bed in order to wake him up. A tug creeps on his shoulder, pulling harder and harder, until he jolts awake. Darkness consumes his cabin, spilling all across the room. For a moment, he swears a shadow moves near the bathroom, and he screams and pushes his back against the wall, heart racing.

And then a voice, deep and calming, melts in his ears. “It’s okay,” the voice murmurs. “You’re okay. It’s just me.”

Will’s head whips to the voice, blood roaring in his ears. Monster, some part of him thinks. Monster is trying to sound like my friends.

A demigod stands before him, dressed in black, melting with the darkness. Anxiety creeps over his neck, an icy cold grip on his body. Monster, he thinks again. What if it’s a monster that can shape-shift?

Will pushes himself further, his breathing ragged. The demigod lookalike leans back a little, as if to give him space. They turn their head to the side and mutter something to someone else, but with the utter panic bursting through his body, he can barely hear them.

Then another figure appears before him, this one shorter and more feminine. A part of Will thinks it’s just another monster, but his vision’s clearing now; the panic that gripped him just seconds before eases back a little. He recognizes them. He knows he does. 

“Will,” the feminine figure murmurs, leaning in. “Hey, listen. I’m not a monster. Your favorite song when you were younger was ‘Barbie Girl.’“

Suspicion still crawls over Will, but he’s more stable now. The feminine figure is... Kayla. His sister. Right. 

And the one standing next to her is... Nico? What are they doing here?

Will sits up a little straighter, feeling a little surer in himself. He looks between the two, confused. He opens his mouth to speak, but his throat is dry from the panic that enveloped him just moments ago. Will clears his throat. His voice comes out scratchy as he asks, “What’s wrong? Why are you guys awake?”

Nico nods to Kayla, who turns around and flicks on the light. Brightness consumes the cabin, burning Will’s eyes. The son of Apollo groans and shoves his head in his hands. Another bout of uneasiness creeps through his skin. Why are they awake at such a late time?

“Listen,” Nico says, taking Will’s hand in theirs. “I don’t want to freak you out-” 

“Just by saying that, you’re pretty much guaranteeing that I’m going to freak out.” 

“I know,” Nico mutters. “But you need to be awake. And we need to get out of the cabin.” 

Will blinks. Nico’s words are blending together, slurring through Will’s brain. What are they even saying? He looks around the room, seeing if any of the others are awake. A jolt of unease wakes Will right up as he realizes that, in fact, all of his siblings are awake. “What’s going on?”

Nico rises, hand pulling on Will’s. “There’s a chimera loose on the camp grounds. It snuck in somehow." Their arm tugs, and Will rises immediately, almost as if just by Nico’s strength he’s found the will to stand up.

Dread settles over Will like a blanket. The cabin may be covered in light now, but he feels as though only darkness consumes him. Monster, his mind screams. 

Nico appears to notice Will’s nervousness, because their eyes soften and they whisper, “You can just stay in the infirmary, Will. I don’t know if you’re in any mental condition to fight.” 

Will wants to argue, say that of course he’s going to fight. He more than proved to Nico that he’s not weak when they were in Tartarus, and Nico knows that Will can be more than just a healer.

But Will also knows why Nico’s suggesting that to him. It isn’t because he’s unimportant or useless; it’s because he’s exhausted. He hasn’t had a good sleep in weeks. And he’s just now awoken with dreams about monsters. Battling a monster would do nothing good for him, or for the camp.

Swallowing, Will nods. He looks over at his siblings, who he’s suddenly realized have all been watching him and Nico. After a slight hesitation, he announces: “I’ll help in the ways I can.”

~~~

It’s chilly in the infirmary, the cold air whispering against Will’s bare hands, but he doesn’t mind. It wakes him up, makes him feel a little more alive. 

Austin and Kayla are in the infirmary with him, waiting to patch up any demigods who’ve been hurt by the chimera. Will will admit, even though he hates being thought of as just a healer, he doesn’t mind the sense of calm bandaging cuts gives him. It’s not about helping people; it’s about the fact that at least he feels helpful.

A part of him yearns to be outside and help the other demigods attack the chimera at the hill, but he knows he can’t. Every time the chimera roars, ice drips over Will’s back; terror paralyzes him. He only thinks of Tartarus, of all the monsters who had tried sneaking on him and Nico so many times. 

For the moment, things seem manageable here in the infirmary. There haven’t been many lethal or super serious injuries; only cuts, bruises, and the occasional poisonous gashes. Nothing he and his siblings can’t handle.

And yet, uneasiness still grips him, the sense that something terrible is about to happen. He tries to shake it off. It’s only a chimera, he reminds himself. And there are literally fifty demigods going after it. It’ll be fine.

His worse fears come true when the doors of the infirmary burst open and a demigod comes through, holding a pale, limp figure in his arms.

It takes a moment for the image to register in Will’s brain. At first, the only thought to run through his mind is: Wow, that half-dead demigod looks familiar. 

When he realizes why the demigod looks so familiar, Will gasps. It’s Nico, he thinks with horror. For a moment, he doesn’t move. Fear glues him to his spot by the sink, his knees shaking. The cynical, depressing part of Will already assumes the worst: that he’s dead.

And then, all at once, he zips towards Nico, tears threatening to spill over. He pushes the other demigod aside and circles his arms around Nico, lowering them to their knees.

“Nico,” he whispers urgently, shaking their shoulders. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Nico mutters something incomprehensible, their words slurring together. Their head slumps against Will’s shoulder, body limp. Will takes his hand and places it over Nico’s forehead, almost crying out loud when he realizes how warm the child of Hades is.

Kayla and Austin rush over with a stretcher, their young faces betraying anxiety. Will gently lays Nico over it, his throat aching with the repression of frustrated tears. “Nico, can you say something? What happened?”

This time, Nico’s voice is a little more comprehensible, albeit still slurred. “Chim’ra,” they mutter. “Ven’m. Tried t’ fight it with sword.” They attempt to move their body and immediately give up, grimacing and hissing. Nico’s face turns gray, the color of ashes. 

Will notices the slash on their black T-shirt and the blood oozing out. He quickly lifts the shirt up, discovering a wide gash over Nico’s rib cage. The skin at the edge of the injury is tinged to a slightly green color.

For a second, Will almost loses it. He starts assuming the worst of it, thinking that Nico’s lost it all. But then he remembers: it’s only a gash. The cut may be deep and wide, but there’s no reason he shouldn’t be able to fix it. Nico seems worse off than other demigods who came in with the same poison, but if they can get to work quickly, then there’s no reason as to why he should start assuming the worst.

White hot anger erupts in Will’s system, blaring in his stomach and chest. The Chimera did this. It hurt Nico. 

Will has had enough of monsters. They chased him and Nico throughout Tartarus, making sure to haunt both their dreams. They’ve taunted him, making sure to ensure doubt and insecurities in himself all his life. They almost killed him and his mother when he first arrived at camp. He’s had friends and siblings die because of monsters who never gave a fuck about demigods and their lives. 

And now they’ve decided to mess with Will again, trying to hurt one of the people he loves most. 

Well, Will’s done.

He turns his eyes away from Nico momentarily, staring at his hands. He knows exactly what he needs to do.

“It’s okay,” he promises Nico, who’s skin sags even more under the pressure of pain. “It’s not too bad. Kayla and Austin will be able to fix you up.”

Nico doesn’t answer, too exhausted to do so. Kayla and Austin fix Will with the same confused expression. “Aren’t you helping?” Kayla asks, bending over to take one end of the stretcher. Austin holds the other side.

Will shakes his head, standing. He grits his teeth, staring in the direction of the door. “I have something else to take care of.” 

Austin’s eyes widen in concern. “Will, no. There is no way you’re going out there to fight that thing.”

Kayla opens her mouth to agree, but Will snaps his head back to them. “I’m going,” he states. He glares his eyes at them, mouth set into a thin line. Will almost relishes the sudden look of fear in their faces. “I’m head counselor, guys. I’m supposed to protect you guys.” Turning his face back to the infirmary doors, he announces, “That’s what I’m going to do.”

With that, he storms out of the infirmary. No one follows.

~~~

The winter air snaps at his skin, sinking its teeth into his hands. Will flexes his fingers, anger still seething, pulsing, gushing from every inch of his body. No one hurts his loved ones like that.

He follows the cries of battle and screeches of the monster to Half-Blood Hill, calling on his rage. If the monster wants a battle, then Will will give him one.

It’s been a while since Will’s used his plague powers. The last time was in Tartarus, and when he used them there, he almost passed out. He hasn’t trained with it at all, afraid of how much damage it could cause. What if he accidentally hurts a demigod?

But tonight, as the wind whips across his face and the image of Nico flashes across his brain, he lets the powers pulse, strengthen. His powers hum, resonating through every cell in his body.

His palms burst with a feverish warmth, turning a pale green. He feels the weight of thousands of sicknesses swirling through him, the power they hold. He’s finds the feeling of the plague powers quite strange; it’s like having a sickness, but only inverted. As if he can’t quite feel the symptoms, but he can feel the strength of the problems they can cause. Instead of wearing him down, they only empower him. He controls the sicknesses, can lash them out to whoever he wants.

Heads turn to Will as he steps over the summit of the hill, eyes widening at his sudden change of appearance. Now the heat reaches his face, hot and wild and etching to let loose. He’s a ball of energy, only existing to unleash chaos.

He catches a glimpse of himself in the shield of one of the demigods, and almost screams. He can barely recognize himself. His face has turned a pale, ugly shade of green, his freckles barely visible. The sky blue of his eyes have turned a sickly, glowy yellow, the only vibrancy on his face. The blond of his hair has turned as gray as ashes, limp against his forehead. 

He looks sick and terrible. But really, Will only feels the buzz of power underneath his fingertips. He almost laughs; this feels great. Why would he want to repress this so much? Imagine all the monsters he could kill. Imagine the glory he could get. He would never be looked as weak ever again. 

Demigods eyes trace over him, but as soon as he makes eye contact, they jump and scramble away. Will wants to laugh at that. For so long, he’s felt like some kind of scared, useless wimp; now he’s making others feel like that. 

No, a quiet part of him says. That’s not right. Stop thinking like that.

Guilt starts building up in Will’s chest, but when a roar echoes throughout the camp, anger once against consumes the demigod. He bares his teeth towards the Chimera, whose lion head growls at him, ready to pounce. Its goat, snake, and lion heads all stare at Will daringly, as if taunting him. What are you going to do, Sunny Boy? Going to kill me with silly little poems?

Will just laughs. “What’s the matter, kitty? Are we scaring you?”

This time the goat answers, bleating angrily. Will almost wants to laugh again, but then the goat breathes a blazing hot fire in the son of Apollo’s direction, almost searing off his clothes. 

Will scowls. He speaks again, and just barely registers the change in his voice; it’s raspier, the sound of something brushing against sandpaper. “So you want to play it hard, Kitty? We’ll play it hard.”

The snake tail hisses and spits venom in Will’s direction, but he simply steps back and lets it sizzle on the ground. That was just a test, Will knows. It’s simply measuring how much hell Will is ready to give him. 

Well, he thinks, if you want hell, I’ll give you it.

He lets the plague’s strength build up in his palms, locating the power in one place. Will concentrates on just the sicknesses, the energy buzzing through him. His body buzzes with electricity and excitement. Will’s skin turns an even worse shade of green, practically glowing in the night. Mucus builds up in his nose, and he steps towards the Chimera, extending his right arm.

He waits for it to go first. 

The lion head roars again, and the monster leaps at Will. But he’s ready for it. Just as it lands towards Will, the blond opens his palm to it.

For a moment, it seems as if nothing is happening. The demigods see nothing, no waves or signals to indicate that Will’s doing something. He looks almost ridiculous, really, and some demigods may have laughed if they weren’t so terrified of the way Will’s appearance has changed. 

Will, however, knows a lot is happening. His body surges with power, strength, the urge to only provide sickness. He wants to see the monster fall, weak with illness and begging for death. He wants to see it asking for mercy, and Will will respond only with more torture, more pain. 

He wants to make it beg for Tartarus.

The monster seems confused for a moment, surprised by the strange demigod. What does he even think he’s doing, standing there with his arm outstretched so uselessly and lamely? 

And then it hits the Chimera. Its body grows heavy, weak, wanting only to sit and lie down for a while. It sways on its feet and thumps to the ground, feeling dizzy and confused. Its vision gets blurry; it can barely tell where the demigods are. Only the glow of the strange demigod is clear to the monster, and for a moment it forgets what it’s even supposed to be doing. 

Its mind gets fuzzy. The itch of a sneeze consumes its nose, and then the scratch of its throat makes it wheeze. The Chimera wants to eat this demigod - but, wait. Suddenly the thought of food doesn’t seem too appetizing. 

It just wants to sleep for a while. Its body grows weary, tired, hot from fever. It shivers in the night, its fur doing nothing to protect it in the coolness of the night. The Chimera tries to blow a fire, if only to heat itself, but finds itself too weak to do such a thing. 

And then a strange tickle bursts in its leg. The snake head looks at the limb, and a delayed shock shudders through the Chimera’s body. It’s disintegrating! Not into sand, as all monsters go. Instead, it’s as if the sickness is breaking down all its cells, ripping apart each molecule in the body until there’s nothing left.

Will feels the power ripple through him, and suddenly he can’t help the laughter that bubbles through him. He’s made the monster weak; he’s made the monster helpless. It whimpers, begging for mercy, just as Will wanted.

Will doesn’t relent. He pushes further, extending his powers, breaking the monster down further and further, until it’s left with only the lion head. 

The lion’s eyes peer at Will, glazed over with sickness. Its face is green, which Will didn’t know could happen. Or maybe I made it happen, Will thinks with both elation and terror. 

Will glares, anger once against taking over him. “You hurt Nico. Now I hurt you.” 

And with that, the monster’s head disintegrates. The remnants turn into sand. The monster is gone.

Will wants to smile, to laugh, to say that he did that all by himself. But his vision goes blurry, then foggy. The world tilts violently.

Will collapses.

[flowerflamestars]

Let's ask the hard questions here, baby. What do you think the series would have been like had it been Nesta Archeron under the mountain?

BABE this is it-this is the best question I’ve ever been asked. 

For one thing, chaotic. For another: I think the simple substitution reframes the whole structure of the narrative. It’s not about a journey to power that fights Evil Tyranny (abused Human to Hero to High Lady).

It’s a story about the people working around, beside, under the powerful Lords- and the difficult choices they make. Less Hero’s Journey more, Look, These Are the Real Heroes.

Let’s start with Spring. We know now that the whole you killed a faery now you have to come to faeryland thing was an insanely shitty ruse. So maybe Andras is still alive. Maybe Feyre killed him and Nesta successfully protected her sisters. Maybe Tamlin is just a twat and went that one is pretty. ANYWAY-

Nesta gets to Spring. Lucien doesn’t immediately despise her, for, you know, murdering and skinning his only friend (a handy sublimation of the anger he can’t express against his High Lord). Nesta was raised in the fucking gentry and Nesta can play the game- it’s a question of willingness.

Feyre is a lot more willing to roll with weird circumstances for caution.  Nesta is, to her bones, an aggressor. Empty manor doesn’t add up? She’s going to say something so cutting, and so infuriating to Tamtam she ends up seeing all the faeries. She steels herself, refuses to be afraid of Alis, and asks questions. (See, Nesta’s first IC dinner, zeroing in on the scariest faery and refusing to flinch)

At some point, there’s a confrontation. 

But it’s not between Nesta and Tamlin. Now, in canon Tamtams is extremely willing to drag his feet on the curse. In this version, that is so much worse- sure, he’s into Nesta (Nesta, recall, just looks like sharper Feyre), but Nesta takes one look at this fragile immortal man child and roasts the shit out of him. What’s he going to do? Kill her? Negates all the stupid trouble he went to. Punish her? He clearly needs her for something.

Tamlin cannot handle that. There are no Romantic Moments. Nes spends calanmai watching faeries do weird shit out her window. She sure as fuck doesn’t drink faery wine and dance for Tamlin at the solstice. It is not happening.

 So Nesta spends a lot of time alone, wandering around. Talking to Lucien, Alis, random-ass faeries out of sheer reckless ego, reading every book in the ugly manor.

Nesta confronts Lucien. I’m going to go with after the wingless dead faerie and the head in the garden. The stupid blight conversation.

This works differently and better than Feyre’s attempts to get more information for I think, two important reasons. 1) Lucien and Nesta speak the same language in acotar. It’s all anger babes- sharp edged, sexy, bullshit. There’s no cycle of forgiveness then softening- they are the same, too the same, tired and self-hating survivalists bored out of their minds in a gilded death trap. 

and 2) Nesta and Feyre are quintessentially perceived differently. Feyre is hopeful- tenacious, young, free. She shakes up things for these old ass faeries and gives them something to believe in. It’s youth for the eternally young. 

Nesta...is not that. She gets under your skin, forever. Multiple faeries meet her throughout the books and have very extreme reactions to that- but what matters at this point, as a mortal- Nesta reads as an adult. She’s immune to glamour. Her strength isn’t kindness or an open heart, it’s fucking steel that might take your last breathe.

And look, Lucien would respond to that. Tamlin...isn’t even talking to the girl his people died to get him. The curse is almost over and they’re all going to get tortured. Nesta, has, from day one, known something is wrong- she’s so angry, and it makes it easier for Lucien to be angry.

It’s not hunting bros who become Real Friends, it’s fire and gasoline. Empowerment.

So, I haven’t read acotar in ages- but I’m pretty sure they literally couldn’t tell her about Tamlin’s curse. But Lucien can communicate around the magical fuckery- there’s a great evil. The kids in Winter are all dead because of another High Lord. 

And look, Nesta cares about dead kids. She even, begrudgingly, cares about Lucien. She does not give a single flying fuck about the High Lords.

But Lucien, in this world, is the first one to say it: Hybern. 

Amarantha is Hybern’s general, and Hybern wants all of Prythian. All of it. 

Nesta is absolutely going to walk into the fire to keep the humans- and by extent, her sisters- safe from faeries. 

Tamlin- because he does not love Nesta- doesn’t send her away. Doesn’t crush any savage hope Lucien harbored, doesn’t do shit. He gives up.

And so Spring is dragged beneath the Mountain.

Nesta has exactly two advantages on her side: she can see through glamour, so she’s not 100% disoriented and vulnerable (just..you know, terrified), and sheer force of will.

Amarantha likes will. She likes to break it, and there are so few real contenders left after her victory. 

Nesta doesn’t bargain- Nesta doesn’t beg for Tamlin’s life and love- she asks to win her own. 

Amarantha wants to crush her like a bug. Insignificant little human- but wouldn’t it be more fun to watch each little crack form?

So she gets the riddle. Tamlin’s power is thrown in like the boring chekovs gun that it is. Lucien (probably) gets beat up because Lucien always gets beat up under the Mountain. 

Nesta has two choices: she can answer the (stupidly cliched, easy) riddle right there, and try to walk out. (Nesta knows she’s not making it out alive). Or she can wait, and play the game. (She’ll be damned if she doesn’t take that insane bitch and maybe Tamlin down with her. Her only ally is Lucien and he’s being hauled off with a bleeding headwound soo..)

Nesta lets herself be dragged away. She doesn’t fight. 

Let us remember again, that the Archeron sisters are built like a triptych. A presumable almost mother maiden crone. They look alike, especially Nesta and Feyre. If Rhysie boy thinks Feyre is hot at first glance, guess what he also thinks about Nesta?

So, yes, of course he goes to offer a deal. And let’s be clear on something- when Feyre hated Rhysands guts, what did he like about her? That she was beautiful, absolutely didn’t give a fuck, and what’s that? Fought with him.

She lets him heal her, but then- Nesta won’t even talk to him. Nothing he does works. They come to agreement (which Rhysand finds fascinating, a human with loyalty, that human heart) that Nesta will listen to Rhysand’s offer if and when, he delivers to her a whole, safe, Lucien Vanserra.

Rhys frames this as emotional torture. Incentive. He doesn’t need to play evil as well- Nesta hates fucking faeries. And she knows he killed a bunch of children. 

So Lucien gets thrown in the cell. Minimally healed. About to embark on the misery train, self-deprecating laughter at the fact he’s healed, now, because of Nesta. 

Lucien: so nice of you to make sure we’re all pretty before we die, Archeron. Final night spent huddling for warmth together?

Nesta: Shut up. Shut up- tell me why the fuck Rhysand would be trying to make a deal with me.

They come to the conclusion that, while Rhysand is a monster, he also has no control of his own. He’s completely under Amarantha’s thumb, and apparently, wants out.

Nesta, because she always goes for the jugular, has another thought: Are you really going to go back to Spring after this? He gave up. He gave up and you were rotting in a cell.

Lucien, to whom Nesta is both gasoline and mean friend catnip, but who is also a Sad Boi: where else can I go?

So they make a plan. Rhysand thinks Nesta is the key to killing Amarantha? Cool, Amarantha needs to die. Tamlin is the only High Lord who has access to his power more readily? Tamlin needs to do the killing. 

What does Nesta want? There to be no Hybern coming to burn the land where her sisters live. To go back, to go home- but Nesta doesn’t think, even for a second, she’s really going to make it out alive. And if she does, as she thinks late at night, of Feyre’s laugh, or Elain’s quiet humor- how will it ever be safe? They live on the Wall.

Nesta is known to faeries now- Nesta is infamous, and there’s nothing to stop anyone, should her presence lead them back to her home.

Nesta privately decides Tamlin should die too.

So when the time comes, and Rhysand is like, I’ll protect you, you’ll be mine and you’ll be healed- Nesta says no. Nesta, because she really has never learned to back down- looks dead in the eye of the High Lord of Night, the monster who sleeps beside Amarantha and says: safe passage.

She’ll do what Rhys wants, for this: Lucien Vanserra’s safe passage to a safe place, and for Rhysand to promise not to get in her way when she answers the riddle.

Rhys still wants her to come to the Night Court- for whatever nebulous reasons he wanted Feyre to...which only make sense AFTER she’s changed by the High Lords...which Rhysie couldn’t have known, BUT ANYWAY- Nesta says yes. She doesn’t expect she’ll be alive to pay.

Lucien sulks back to Tamlin’s side, and spends a few weeks between challenges laying it on thick. A quiet whisper that grows, a perfect stroke to Tamlin’s volatile ego. How dare Amarantha, how dare Nesta- Tamlin is a Lord, Tamlin is Spring- Tamlin, who has suffered so much more than the other Lords, deserves his power back. 

Nesta is dragged out for the final challenge.

In one of the long, dangerous hallways, her guards look the other way for just a moment- for a visitor. The High Lady of Autumn knows her son is safe because of this girl. 

She hands Nesta a knife. A small gift- all she can. Steel, not ash, small enough it will go unnoticed.

Nesta is dragged before the throne, before the High Lords, Tamlin and Amarantha, Rhysand.

Nesta answers the riddle.

And when Amarantha refuses to abide the rules- Tamlin, carefully manipulated without coordinating by both Rhys and Lucien, goes apeshit.

This does not stop Amarantha from hurting Nesta. The opposite- she’s trapped in the fight between them. When Amarantha does give Tamlin over the power, it doesn’t stop- unloved by even a human, and now she’d take any chance he’d had to win her as he really was.

Nesta doesn’t stab Amarantha. Nesta lays there, bleeding to death, biding her time.

Tamlin murders Amarantha. Rhysand doesn’t beg, but he’s there, getting growled at by Lucien as he tried to staunch Nesta’s wounds.

Amarantha dies, and Tamlin, glowing with power, makes his way to Nesta. They think he’s going to heal her- to try, but Tamlin is Tamlin, so he pulls her into his arms.

Nesta, who knows she’s going to die- Nesta, who was taken from her home, her family, deprived of her life by the choices of this man- Nesta lets Tamlin embrace her, the arrogant, stupid bastard, and stabs him in the throat.

It is the golden, desperate words of Lucien Vanserra that convince the High Lords to heal her. It is Rhysand who tries first, who gives the most. After all- Tamlin had been too selfish to try, and they’d all suffered for it. Faery justice: swift and bloody.

Nesta had died victorious. Nesta died with a bloody autumn court dagger in one hand and the grip of her only real friend in the other- but death was chaos. Skies and stars and howling wind, love and blood and war.

A thousand miles away, Cassian awoke screaming, clawing at his own chest.

She climbed through blood and battle, dreams and hope, floated to an infinite sky: and found herself alive.

Breathing, whole, an immortal monster. On her way to the Court of Night with Lucien by her side. 

[1oserjk]

— full stop | 03

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a series.

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

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

02 ⇋ 04

x full stop masterlist | x masterlist

shit is 16k .. sry 

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full stop | 03: unhappy birthday

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

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

You choke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyejin.” You glare. 

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

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

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

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

Her eyes narrow. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.” 

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

“Hyejin!”

“—then I’ll let you know.” 

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

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

“Love you.” 

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

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

“Of course.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nods. “I am!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hum, “Is that so?” 

She nods dramatically. 

“So what would you want this year?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

“Of course!” 

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

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

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

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

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

“O-Okay, but-“ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then, I’ll drive you back.” 

“Jungkook, no, it’s okay-“ 

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

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

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

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

You rush to the side of Jungkook when they disappear. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

He still had it. 

For a second, you smile back at it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook shuts his eyes before tiredly letting out a sigh. 

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

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

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

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

You nod. 

“What about yours?” He suggests.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was until you spoke up again. 

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

His fingers unknowingly grip on the steering wheel. 

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

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

They keep clinging to the wheel. 

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

“You had every right to be.” 

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

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” is all he says.

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

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

-

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

She nods. 

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

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

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

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

She complies easily, shuffling towards the cushioned chair. 

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

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

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

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

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

She only nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Presents?” Yeona brightens. 

“No,” You and Jungkook rush. 

“Mommy meant something else..” 

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re both matching.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook notices. 

“You okay?” He asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You finally sleep. 

-

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

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

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

He’s still confused. 

“Seol?” You finally spit out. 

“Oh.” 

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

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

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

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

“Oh—okay.” You wonder why. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And she definitely was. 

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

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

“Careful,” Jungkook calls from next to you. 

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

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

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

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

“Starting to feel better?” He murmurs softly. 

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

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

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

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

“She worries about you.” 

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

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

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

“Uh, hi Mom. Where’s Yeona?” 

“With your father.” 

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

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

“Headache,” you finish and state for him. 

“Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

You groan. “And I still am.” 

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

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

She gasps. 

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

“Jeon Jungkook,” his mother scowls. 

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

“You told her?” 

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

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

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

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

“Yeona, where have you been?” 

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

You chuckle. “Is that so?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s good.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh no.” 

“Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

“You aren’t going to stay and eat?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, sorry mom.” 

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

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

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

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

“Mom!” 

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

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

Her son groans. “Just use your phone.” 

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And how much in total?” 

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

“Mom.” 

You shush him. “Leave her alone.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You really do look pretty today, _____.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you need a tissue?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Daddy,” Yeona taps. “Want off.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least, to her eyes you were. 

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

Nothing more, nothing less. 

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

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

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

“That was—” Jungkook starts. 

“—Definitely new,” you finish. 

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

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

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

“Besides, I don’t really mind.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?” 

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

“_____..” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

“Holy shit,” you gape. “It’s huge.” 

“They’re loaded.” 

“I-I can’t go in this, Jungkook.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A brow arches. “When are we not?” 

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

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

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

His head tilts in reason, “Fair.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does that mean you and—“

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

“.. Right.” 

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

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

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

-

It’s nighttime now. 

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

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

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

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

He pouts. “Why?”

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

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

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

“But then Kiumin..” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“J-Jungkook!” 

Childish. Absolutely childish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy shit.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Running away?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You accidentally collide against something. Hard and wide. 

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

“Shit, are you okay?” 

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

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

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

“O-Of course I am.” 

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

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

“Hi, baby.” 

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

“U-Uh..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What now?” 

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

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

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

“I don’t care,” you deadpan. 

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

“Ouch.”

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

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

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

“Thanks, Hyejin,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

All is forgotten, smile setting on your lips.

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

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

You giggle. “Are you having fun?” 

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

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

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

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

He nods. “T-That’s good.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-It was Yeonie’s idea!” 

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook—!” 

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

“Sweetheart, no! Listen to me-“

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyes crease and she giggles loudly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You observe him as he answers. “Hello?” 

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

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

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

“I—I miss you too.” 

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

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

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

You finally pull away from him completely. 

“_____.”

You give a curt smile. “Yeah?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He understood exactly why. 

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She mumbles incoherently. 

“Come on,” he nudges, “Up.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Luckily, he dodges it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“_____..”

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

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

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

He’s still dancing and smiling.

“He’s not my husband anymore.”

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

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

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

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

Jungkook follows suit. 

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

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

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

“Oh,” Kiumin nods. “She’s awesome.” 

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

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

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

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

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

Hyejin bursts in laughter, everybody following right behind. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[xhanisai]

What if you had it all, But nobody to call?

AO3 / FFN

Summary:  "...Am I dreaming?" 

Marinette almost leapt to her feet and turned around, only for common sense and the hammered identity rule to slap her in the face and keep her rooted on the spot. 

Her Chaton was crying...crying. His entire body shook and shuddered as the sound of his quiet gasps filled the tense air, his touch now a raging inferno coursing through her veins.

And she couldn't even bring him into her arms and brush his tears away with her pinpricked fingers.

    ~(x)~

.

.

.

   Ladybug and Chat Noir's abilities were capable of many, many things. Things that were miraculously incredible to say at the very least and beyond scientific comprehension- for goodness sake, how many times have Ladybug brought the dead back to life after the umpteenth distraught puppet villain razed them to the ground?  And how many times have Chat Noir managed to take down La Tour Eiffel with one singular touch, rendering it to nothing but ashes and dust in the wind?  However, as magnificent and majestic as their powers were, not even they were able to prevent the dreaded pandemic that took over the world by a storm and put everyone completely at its mercy.  This time, the heroes that the world needed were those with medical training, scrubs and a vow to the Hippocratic oath.  Mon Dieu, were they such brilliant, resilient heroes indeed.  .  Despite the United Nations worldwide urging all civilians to stay indoors at all times (unless necessary outings were needed) and countries locking down dozens at a time, Le Papillon let it all flow through one ear and out the other. It's as if he has an addiction to sending out akumas left, right and centre as severe as a chain-smoker and the fact that there's an airborne virus that could completely destroy even the most healthiest person was just a muted buzz in the background. 

 Then again, what does one expect from the tunnel-visioned, single-minded, 'father of the year', Gabriel fucking Agreste?

     "There are people literally dying out here and this crusty old man can't even take a hint!?"

   "My Lady, what do we expect from the same man who regularly akumatises M. Ramier?"

 Of course, the teenaged vigilantes had no choice but to risk their safeties as well as their loved ones by sneaking out of their abodes and battling the millionth akuma on the streets. 

   "Chaton...my parents are starting to think I'm constipated. CONSTIPATED."

   "I told you, just use the shower excuse rather than the toilet excuse."

   "But then they'll think I have some sweaty teenaged puberty problem!"

   "Either way it's a bit shit, isn't it?"

   "Oh fuck off..."

 Thankfully, Tikki and Plagg were able to upgrade their traditional superhero suits, extending the masks downwards so that they covered the heroes' lower faces and filtered out the air, keeping them safe as they battled. However, social distancing was a whole new different obstacle that made these very fights thousands of times harder to win.  The numerous events that Chat Noir had to be verbally restrained from going absolutely apeshit on akumas that gave Ladybug a beating that went too far when he could have pushed her away in ordinary circumstances was just insane. The heroine never realised how dangerous her infamous clumsiness could be at times, concluding her completely vulnerable and at the akuma's mercy whilst Chat Noir has no choice but to scream her name in agony a good distance away.  And vice versa.  Oh mon Dieu.    She has had witnessed her poor partner get skewered and burnt alive by the more unforgiving victims too many times, her shaking arms aching to bring his body against hers so that she can feel his heart beating under her touch and lay kisses upon his tousled locks just to ensure her barely sane mind that he was still alive.  That he won't leave her forever.  The pandemic was such a vile curse...  And it made everyone feel so, so alone.  Finally, after months of these life-threatening fights, both physical and internal, both Ladybug and Chat Noir against le Papillon and the doctors and nurses and essential workers against the virus, a new testing system was introduced.

   "I finally got my results! I got negative. What about you, Bug?"

   "I got negative too! Dieu merci...looks like those sniffles I had really was hayfever after all,"

   "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that, Ladybug. I...I couldn't help but think the worst when you mentioned about the sniffles last week...and I even yelled at you for coming out to battle the other day..."

   "Chat, you only had my best interests in mind...and I would have had done the same. But you can make it up to me, now that we can share a social bubble,"

   "How?"

   "Follow me!"

    .

   "-And now, we can freely grab each other whenever we want and we will be back in sync during akuma battles in no time. Isn't that great? Neither of us has to wallow in guilt or cry because we weren't able to push the other one out of harm's way." Marinette sighed happily, her bare hands squeezing her Chaton's as they both rested their backs against the pillar in between them.  The noir-haired girl couldn't help but let her fingers and thumbs map out every nook, every crevice and every feature of her partner's hands like a desperate lover.  The way that his longer, thicker fingers flexed under her touch and curled warmly against hers, the rough callouses on the palms that indicated years of hard work to whatever sport he's dedicated himself to, the glossy smoothness of his detransform miraculous on his right hand and its ridges poking into her skin and the sweet body heat that emanated from his caresses and sent her entire body aflame.  She missed this.  Dieu, she missed her partner's physical touch so much.

   .

   "...Am I dreaming?"

.

 Marinette almost leapt to her feet and turned around, only for common sense and the hammered identity rule to slap her in the face and keep her rooted on the spot.  Her Chaton was crying...crying. His entire body shook and shuddered as the sound of his quiet gasps filled the tense air, his touch now a raging inferno coursing through her veins.  And she couldn't even bring him into her arms and brush his tears away with her pinpricked fingers.  "Chat Noir?? What's wrong?" She asked, her heart skipping multiple beats when she attempted to move her hands away from his, only for Noir to grip them tightly and entwine their fingers firmly.  A perfect fit.  .  "S-Sorry...heh-I'm not upset," He reassured her, tightening his clasp on her hands lovingly, his lips aching to press against her sweet, bare-knuckles in a sound kiss. "It's just...it's just been a while since I've had proper human contact, My Lady...so I've almost forgotten what it's like to be touched...or touch another..."  Adrien felt her move, rather than saw, his Lady's breath hitching in her throat as she in return sent a squeeze back to him. It was as if his entire being was surrounded by a pool of warmth, lighting up his crushed soul and cleansing his shattered heart. The urge to just turn around and envelope her in his greedy arms was exorbitantly unbearable.   She was right there, just behind him, tempting him with that oh-so-familiar bakery scent of cinnamon and vanilla that he could taste it. Alas, his unwavering sense of loyalty to her rules and his primal feelings to keep her safe kept him chained down.  .  But sometimes, even the most beaten down, the most saddest and the most broken of people can receive a glimpse of hope.

   "Well, now you can have all the human contact you want, Chat. C-Close your eyes and I'll come to you- mine are closed too."

 She didn't give him a chance to answer, using her hands to manoeuvre her way towards him until finally, she found his lap and settled down before bringing him in for a well-needed embrace and burying his head into the crook of her neck. Adrien didn't hesitate in crushing her body against his chest, his arms locked around her waist, one hand digging into her smooth tendrils whilst the other one clenching the fabric of her shirt on the small of her back.  He selfishly inhaled in her scent, his tears saturating her neck whilst she in turn let her fingers tangle with his blonde strands, lips puckered against his nape as she memorised the pattern of his heartbeat in tandem to hers. 

   "How long can w-we stay like this?"

   "As long as you would like, mon Minou..."

.

They stayed like that in the same position, all night.

  .

.

.

~(x)~

[amwritingmeta]

15x19: A First Ending

This was a good episode! Oh, I know, I know - we didn’t get Cas back. But oh, boy, that should mean that Misha shot for five of eight days for 15x20 and that makes me want to rub my hands together with the hope of what that might mean. All the good things!

Oh, don’t hang your hopes on mine btw. I had very high hopes that we’d get Cas back, or very strongly established as coming back (as per 13x04) with a final scene of him waking up in the Empty or something like it, and that didn’t happen, but omg I’m so glad they didn’t.

When Jack started praying and reaching out to Cas my heart almost stopped. 

If Dean doesn’t instigate Cas’ return, then oh it would take away too much!

But then Jack’s moment didn’t lead to anything, and now, the more I think about it, there more it feels like a plant. A reminder of how he prayed to Cas the last time, and woke him. We shall see, eh?

And then we got Dean telling Chuck to bring Cas back, which was a pivotal plant as well. I’d been worried if they hadn’t mentioned Cas more than once, with Dean telling Jack and Sam that Cas sacrificed himself to save him, yeah? 

If there had been no more Cas for the entire episode then, narratively speaking, I would have started wondering what role Cas might actually play in 15x20.

But Cas was mentioned more than once. We even got to hear his voice and have that fake return to stir our... I almost wrote loins, but that’s not appropriate so let’s change it to stir our... martinis. 

Ah yes. We could all use a drink, I’m sure.

The dog as well! Dean was so happy and he carried the dog and petted the dog and put it in Cas’ spot in the backseat and was all, yes, emotional substitute! And then... poof. Because it’s not going to be that easy to replace Cas. *fingers crossed*

Here’s mostly why I’m hopeful for something quite different as the actual finale of the show, the proper wrapping up of these character journeys:

This first ending is for those who have followed the show explicitly to watch these two brothers. (yes there’s a word for them but let’s not)

It ends exactly how these viewers -- and quite possibly the writers who wrote it -- always saw the show ending. It gives an emotionally satisfying wrapping up of all the thematic threads of the show and gives the brothers their hard-won freedom, and keeps the brothers riding in Baby, together, indefinitely. 

And these viewers and fans will always be able to stop watching the show there and keep that as their perfect ending.

Except it’s not the ending-ending. Is it?

This episode neatly and gorgeously wrapped up the Michael/Lucifer/Chuck storyline. It wiped the slate completely clean. Especially with Michael killing Lucifer and Chuck killing Michael. These characters just completely annihilating  each other because they’ve all served their purpose.

And Chuck being drained of his powers and ending up ignored, never to be worshipped again, or even remembered, is such a fitting ending for him! And with Dean refusing to kill him, leaving him to his fate, I’d call that Dean integrating his Shadow.

No more fearing it. It’s powerless. Thanks to Jack (Dean’s inner child) who now holds all the power in the universe.

I’d say Dean Winchester has reached a point of internal balance.

And for all of these good things: Chuck powerless, Jack the New God, surely helping to fix what Cas broke by restoring Heaven (I’m assuming Heaven will be repopulated or that God’s grace will level it out) and Jack stepping into shoes that Cas once tried to fill and failed to, to the detriment to so many of his kin, is simply stunning.

I cried, properly, at Jack’s speech. It was beautiful.

But for all these good things and wrappings up of stuff, didn’t the ending feel kind of superficial? Like stuff was missing in those final five minutes or so? Like... I don’t know... Sam mentioning Eileen maybe? Because surely she was brought back along with everyone else, and one episode ago he was losing his mind over the loss of her.

And they didn’t even mention Cas. Jack mentioned Castiel as a good influence, but Cas was just bunched in with “everyone we’ve lost along the way”.

Meh.

Hey, it’s fine if all you care about is Dean and Sam and you think that they’re at their happiest when they get to drive along a road in Baby, listening to tunes and play-fighting and reminiscing about all those people that have come and gone, while they know they’ll always remain the same.

I mean, if we hadn’t gotten that montage at the end of this episode (a fucking MONTAGE ppl) I would’ve started thinking that maybe Misha was coming back to shoot flashbacks for 15x20, as we got to see the brothers remembering Cas (like with Mary), taking a walk down memory lane and driving around to well-known locales for a final hurrah.

But we got that fucking montage, ppl.

Leaving me to feel that they probably won’t also spend forty minutes rememberembering those same people. You know?

Also, dull. And Dabb is anything but dull. And Dabb loves pulling on stuff he’s hinted at in the first ep of the season. 

And I remember reacting to Sam being the one to escort the kid and her mother into the, what was it? The high school, right? For safety.

While Dean and Cas had that tense exchange by Baby, where Dean couldn’t not ask if Cas was okay and Cas saying, hopefully, that he was, but Dean remaining stone faced and distant. “Awkward” is what Belphegor called it.

Oh. Please let there be awkwardness in 15x20. I beg on bent knees. Beg, I say!

Anyway.

What is 15x20 going to be about if it isn’t about finally answering the question of what will make the brothers happy?

A balanced universe, of course! But freedom without love... sounds kind of lonely to me. 

So, have they answered the question of What do I want? yet? Is this what they want for themselves? More of the same? This season has hinted that it isn’t. It’s hinted very strongly that it isn’t.

So, I’m holding my breath that Dean’s final confrontation is to do with happiness and daring to want it for himself. Daring to admit to wanting it for himself. Daring to go after it... 

Cas does not belong in the Empty.

And hope that it’s telling how Jack didn’t even think to get Cas out of there and bring him home. God got Lucifer out of the Empty so Jack definitely has the power. 

And Dean didn’t ask him to get Cas out of there, not because he doesn’t still want Cas out, but because it would ruin the first ending for the people who want Cas to stay dead. Yeah? 

It’s kind of beautifully done, to my mind, as a nod and a thank you to the people who have supported one reading of the show. It’ll be difficult for them to go apeshit when Dabb and the writers can simply tell them they don’t have to watch further than 15x19 and be content that they’ve got an ending that lets them cling to the brothers as the begin all, end all.

And yes, I remain believing we will get Dean and Cas together-together before the end of the show. I have no clue how much of a together-together we’ll get, but for the show not to give us a clear understanding of how Dean loves Cas back is unthinkable at this point, and will stay unthinkable until the show tells me otherwise, because nothing but those two together makes even a lick of sense to me.

Dean’s feelings were in the subtext this episode because that’s where they always have been and hopefully fingers crossed because this ending wasn’t for us, it was for other sides of fandom, giving them room for denial, if they simply don’t want to see that what Dean wants is Cas back.

Our ending isn’t happening until next week.

Dean: It’s a helluva time to bail. There’s a lot of people counting on you. People with questions—they’re gonna need answers. Jack: The answers will be in each of them. Maybe not today, but someday.

For me this may be setting up for 15x20.

Dean could be said to be accepting the reality of Cas being gone this episode. He starts off not telling the whole truth about what happened with Cas (of course), he’s drinking himself stupid, he tries to demand of Chuck to bring Cas back, he finds that emotional crutch in the doggo and he moves into acceptance because what else can he do?

Especially if he’s still reeling and is struggling with his fear of happiness, with not feeling deserving, with it being easier to simply let it all go.

But.

Letting go of the need is healthy, allowing it to make way for the real want that is about choosing Cas, not because he feels lost without him, but because Cas completes him...

That would be something. 

(oh shush let’s get with the romance) (Jerry always brings it)

The brothers love each other, but throughout this narrative there’s been hints that they both long for more. So much more. It would be so weird if it didn’t all wrap up with more being wanted and chosen and offered and had.

So if the answers are to be “in each of them -- someday”, then maybe Dean just needs to reach a moment where he’s ready to admit to himself that he can’t stand the fact that Cas died not knowing that Dean loves him back.

I wonder if Sam will push for this admittance... I’d like to witness that conversation, that’s for sure.

And Eileen. I hope she’s back sooner rather than later next episode!!

What’s next episode going to be about if it’s not about the breaking of old patterns to make way for new ones...? Are we going to follow the boys around as they do laundry and cook and make a few tentative plans for their unknown future? They won’t be hunting much in 15x20, at least if Dabb is anything to go by. I guess there might be something brief as a final The Boys With Their Weapons Doing Their Thing, but... it won’t be a case episode. And it would’ve been strange if it was, you know?

So then. Hope. One more week breathing eating sleeping on hopes and wishes and we shall simply have to wait and see what we get.

I have every faith it will blow us away, but I’m also sitting pretty. Reining in those horses lest they run away with me. And whatever comes our way, I’m so grateful for this show!

[dreaming-of-assclass]

Nagisa getting angry at the whole class/or group 4 hc’s? The reason could be something about tainting Sakura or something? I just love mad Nagisa. Hope you’re doing well 🙌

Wait I love this so much omg, an opportunity to have him go apeshit like he deserved!! 💚 I love the idea of involving Sakura but I changed it up a bit ^^; Also if it's ok, I decided to write a short one-shot!

(Nagisa gets angry, 3-E gets put in their places and learns to be more humble) One-Shot!!

It was Day 5 of their assigned punishment, volunteering at the school. It was safe to say that majority of the class accepted it by this point and chose to focus on positives. even enjoying the time that was spent there.

The more damage they noticed, the more determined they were to fix the building and give the kids a proper place to learn. Chiba, who led the architect aspects, was especially endeared towards them, probably because he had younger sisters of his own.

The class all had divvied up their tasks. A large portion focused mainly on repairs and handiwork, but often alternated so people could have breaks too. Another big part of the class focused on entertaining the kids and helping Matsukata with the lessons.

A lot of students, the ones with high grades, were also involved in tutoring the children and generally helping out if it was needed. Kanzaki, Fuwa, Mimura, to name a few.

Nagisa figured he was in the very small minority of his classmates who was really only spending time with one child. Actually, scratch that, he was the only one.

But it wasn't like he minded! Sure, Sakura could be a brat and she was prickly at times. All the time... but she was just a kid! A kid who had already been conditioned into thinking she was a hopeless case! Of course, Nagisa would do everything in his power to help her feel better about herself.

After all, he knew exactly how it felt.

But Nagisa wasn't completely oblivious. Even if his attention was on her, he didn't miss the eye-roll exchanges amongst his classmates. Or the annoyed sigh his friends would give if he mentioned tutoring Sakura.

It left a very bad taste in his mouth, but he wisely chose to ignore it, pretend like he didn't hear anything before going back towards Sakura with new worksheets in hand.

This had continued on since the second day of their volunteering, so for a few days now. The subtle quirks of their eyebrows, quiet scoffs, whispering amongst each other.

Nagisa liked to believe that his classmates weren't snobby or problematic. But their behavior was seriously starting to piss him off now, and if it continued, he wasn't sure if he could shut up any longer.

________________

Of course, it had to be Sugino first.

Nagisa loved his best friend truly, but never did he feel so strong of an urge to sock him in the head.

They were all walking back home, as it was the end of the day and their after-school time at the school was done. The children had left first, then Class E stayed to do some extra work and help Matsukata before leaving themselves.

Like usual, Class E was split up. Some kids walked far along in their own groups, chatting. Others had already turned down their streets, ready to head home. Nagisa was in the back with Sugino, Kayano, Kanzaki, Okuda, Terasaka, and Nakamura.

Karma hadn't come in that day, claiming he was sick. Well...not surprising.

They were walking, feet sore from the day and their bags weighing over their shoulders. It was mostly Nakamura and Kayano talking, with a couple quips from Terasaka.

Nagisa was mostly just zoning out, thinking of what his mom would say or do tonight. Was she working late? Should he grab some groceries? Should he do the laundry-?

"Hellooooo~!" A hand waved in front of his face and Nagisa jolted up to see Sugino grinning at him expectedly. "Dude, wake up!"

"Sorry about that," Nagisa replied quickly (automatically) before smiling back. "What's up?"

"I was just gonna ask if you'd be up for leaving the volunteering stuff early tomorrow with me and Karma. He said he found a cool new comic shop to check out."

Nagisa bit his lip to stop from laughing out loud. Karma and Sugino really went from being "enemies" to now inviting him to their plans. Oh, the irony.

"Mm sorry, but I have to make the most use of that time to help Sakura. Maybe another time?" He offered.

Sugino's smile quirked. Ah, there it was.

"Man, that sucks."

Nagisa's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"

"That you have to miss out on studying and fun just to tutor some bratty kid," Sugino retorted without missing a beat.

Nagisa's jaw almost dropped. Sugino liked kids. Where the heck was this coming from? "What's your problem?" He demanded.

At this point, the whole group had quieted down to watch them both with interest. Nakamura's lips were upturned as she crossed her arms. Terasaka's body posture appeared lax, but a sharp glint was in his eyes. Kayano just looked worried

Sugino carded his hand through his hair, frustrated. "Look, I just think you should leave her alone. She's still got a terrible attitude and isn't grateful at all for anything."

"She's just a kid!" Nagisa shot back, feeling his chest grow taut. "And if you bothered to pay attention, you'd see that it has improved. She needs someone to believe in her."

"No offense, Nagisa," a voice cut in. It was Nakamura stepping forward, her blue eyes similar to that of a shark's. "But I've heard you say that about a lot of things that never change."

"Not to mention, that it doesn't have to be your obligation to do everything for her," Kayano chimed in hesitantly.

"Honestly, I just don't get how you can even be around her for too long," Terasaka added. "She's so annoying."

"Enough!" Nagisa snapped loudly, feeling a familiar venom shoot up inside of him. It settled into his veins, on a pathway to pump inside of his heart.

All of his friends stiffened, but he couldn't bring himself to care at that moment. He continued sharply, "You know, this hubris you guys have...is what caused us to be in this situation in the first place."

He shook his head. "You just never learn your lesson, do you? You're all trashing on this literal child, when she's just like us!"

"Nagisa-" Sugino tried to interject, but Nagisa stopped him.

"We've been treated like losers. We've been talked down to by almost every adult in our lives." His voice got louder as his chest tightened. "We know what it's like to feel hopeless! And that's exactly how Sakura feels, so why don't you want to fix that?!"

Kayano was the first to lower her head.

"You know, we're lucky. Just because we have a crazy teacher and get to learn about assassination with cool gadgets doesn't change who we are," he continued. "We're still students who struggle. We're normal people who have failed but we got back up on our feet. We know we can do better. But lately, we've just been acting like the same people who treat us like crap!"

He let out a heavy breath. "And come on guys..." He lifted his gaze to meet theirs. "Let's not act like we're any better. I mean, look at how immature and bratty we've been!"

He gestured to Nakamura. "The first thing you tried to say after we were caught was that it was Matsukata's fault for being there."

The blonde flinched.

He turned to Terasaka, leveling his gaze with his. "And you almost blew me up on the first day of school for money!" He let his words out in one breathless laugh."

He turned towards Sugino. "And dude? You said some pretty mean stuff back when we first got Ritsu."

Both guys averted their gazes, their mouths downturned.

Nagisa sighed. "The point is, that we're not perfect. We've come a long way, but we've made mistakes and we can accept that. So please extend that energy towards this 12-year old who genuinely needs support."

The anger inside him had cooled down now, like how lava and molten rock gradually formed into solid rock. He watched his friends pensively. They all wore expressions of guilt and shame.

"You're right, man," Sugino said quietly. "I'm sorry." The others followed suit, and Nagisa felt a weight relieve his shoulders.

"Just..." Nagisa brushed back his bangs. "Give her a chance, guys. She's more than just an ungrateful brat."

"Of course, Nagisa," Kayano offered him a tiny smile, which he returned.

"And," Nagisa straightened up and fixed his gaze on Sugino. "You better wait to visit that comic shop until I'm free."

We're okay. I forgive you.

Sugino's lips turned up. "Sure, man."

[raventreehouse]

Heya!! I've been recently so dang fixated on Omori content and still craving for more and I really love your writing ♡ If it's not much trouble may I request Basil paired up with a male reader where he doesn't exactly know what to do 'cause it's his first time having feelings for a guy? Thank you!!

BOOM I killed that, that was pretty smoothly written heheheh. Hope you like it!

You moved into the town and it felt off, you didn’t know why, but it did. It was a pretty quiet town and not the biggest, it felt pretty warm and cozy. However when you looked at certain houses while exploring you felt some kind of sad energy come from them.

At one point you had stood in front of one of the houses. All around the decently small house  were a bunch of flowers and plants of all kinds. How did such a cozy small house radiate such sad energy.

Well you got that answered for you when while you were staring at the house a boy about your age came outside.He was cute for sure, he has blond - greenish hair and wears a single pink flower in his hair. he wears a grey knitted tank-top over a white t-shirt, beige shorts and black shoes. 

It was at that moment you realised you had been having a long staring contest with the boy and snapped out of it. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to stare so long. I’m (y/n) (l/n) and I’m new to town. I was exploring and came upon your house and thought it looked really cozy and pretty, especially with the flowers and plants all around it!”

Basil blinked and gave a small nervous smile. “Ah! That makes sense, well I’m Basil and I live here. Welcome to the town though!” He replied.

After that encounter you two become pretty good friends. You did hear about what everybody thought that happened to Mari and helped him a bit through it. Thanks to your constant support and spending so much time with him without being turned away because of his awkwardness and general personality, he got a crush.

He didn’t know what to do. He was supposed to like girls right? But you’re clearly not a girl and these feelings won’t go away. Trust me he did upmost research on if he really liked you, he didn’t really believe his own feelings at first after all.

After clearing everything up with his feelings he still didn’t understand why, so he decided to go to Polly. Because surely she knew something about it. Polly just chuckled at him and started explaining about the LGBTQ+ community. This woman already saw that Basil was going to be different from the start, so she did research about every topic that people could think is ‘weird’. 

After that though he learned two things about himself: 1. He was clearly gay, he never really had any interest in girls besides being friends with them and 2. He might be a he/they. When he told Polly that after her explanation she smiled and said she’d keep it in mind.

Silence came after. After a while Polly sighed fondly and told him. “Maybe you should confess, I’m sure it’ll go fine.”

Now don’t get me wrong, he was mortified to do that, however he trusts Polly’s judgement so he set off to your house.

When you saw him in front of the door when you opened you were afraid you two had planned something and forgot about it. See you and Basil usually planned it by text or you’d swing by his house, cause he was very shy to actually ring your doorbell. 

After Basil explained that you two didn’t have anything planned, but he did want to talk to you about something important you calmed down. After all basil isn’t the one to bring very bad news like this. He is way too anxious for that, so you brought him into your house and up the stairs in your room.

Basil avoided eye contact with you more than normal, but you expected it to be because of the thing he was going to tell you.

And he did, just,,, way to fast for you to understand.

“SoIreallyreallylikeyouandIwaswonderingifyouwantedtobemyboyfriend”

“Ehhhhh”

“I’m so sorry that was so sudden!”

“I wish I could react to what you’re talking about, but ehhh I didn’t understand anything about what you just said.”

“Oh,, sorry.” He took a deep breath and tried again, this time much slower and actually comprehensible. “So I really really like you,, and I was wondering if you liked me too and we maybe could be,,, boyfriends”

You started laughing and Basil thought that this was going to be his first heartbreak, but that never happened. You didn’t know how to answer that especially after his outburst so you have him a little kiss on his forehead.

“You’re always overthinking everything. I thought I made it pretty clear I liked you too. But to answer your question fully, yes I like you too and I would love it if we would be boyfriends.” 

And that’s how you two got together and Basil fainted. The second the friend group was once again reunited and Basil told them that story at a sleepover, they went apeshit and demanded to meet you immediately. It was 3 am. You got a call from an over-energized group. So you hung up and actually met them the next day.

They were cool, but everybody was surprised they never really saw you being new to town. It was something that’s for sure.

But you’re very happy with your new friends and your loving boyfriend. You promised you’d be there for him and he did the same. 

Neither of you were looking to break that promise

[m-y-fandoms]

Blood on Our Stage - Vampire Nagito Komaeda x Human Female Reader -Part 1 (Slight/Platonic Female Reader x Hajime Hinata)

So, this is an old fic I updated to fit these characters because I want to continue it :)

NEEDED CONTEXT FOR THIS AU: Hajime and Nagito are step brothers, (Y/N)/Reader is a human, Hajime and Nagito are vampires, and Hajime did indeed get into the Main Course at Hope’s Peak, for acting.

The paycheck… It's all about the paycheck...

   You took a deep breath, reassuring yourself for what seemed like the hundredth time that year… or that hour.

Smile, s-smile. Breathe, lean into him. It has to look real, (Y/N). God… it’s a whole new level of crackhead when you stutter to yourself in your thoughts.

 Dissociate. 

What are we having for dinner? How many more steps ‘til that damn egg hatches? If it’s another fucking Diglett I swear I’ll go apeshit. 

You shifted to your right, the most forced of grins creeping onto your cosmetic-plastered face. You let your head fall onto Hajime’s shoulder. Convincing right? Touching is convincing. Random gentle displays of affection are convincing... 

By this time, you were nearly blind from the flash of some fifty or so cameras in your face, anyway, so why not just pretend that the photographers and press were blind as well?

  Why not, why not?

 You pretended in every other aspect of your life.

"Isn't that right, (Y/N)?" Hajime’s voice shook you out of your trance, and you turned your head, letting go of his arm, which you had grabbed out of habit. His sparklingly white teeth - sharper than the average man's - gleamed down at you, and you felt that usual pang of fear run down your spine and chill your bones. Even attached to the gums of the sweetest boy on earth, you’d never get used to the sight.

It's all a show, (Y/N), a game. Pretend. "Fangs for the fans, and all that" 

How long would that farce last until people started to realize?

  What had Hajime said earlier that month? You retreated into yourself, thinking deeply, trying desperately to calm the anxiety that rose with at the sight of his flesh-tearing canines...

   _______________________________________________________________

"I can bare my fangs at interviews, photoshoots… you know, when the paparazzi are around. It’s what my dad wants,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Don't worry about it, (Y/N). Honestly, you freak out over the silliest things sometimes.” He ruffled your hair. “It will look like I'm dedicated to the role, or something like that… whatever. People will love it, trust me."

      ___________________________________________________________

But you never could. How could you? A monster with a secret, stupidly displaying that secret openly to the world? No… trusting meant removing little stones from that carefully built wall, which sub-sequentially meant getting hurt, and not just emotionally. You recited this mantra to yourself almost routinely; something you’d picked up from someone very close to your heart. Isn’t it funny how we steal little bits of personality from those we love most?

You knew Hajime just followed whatever his father commanded, that he’d do anything to feel like he mattered, that people cared. He’d done all this: the acting lessons, depending on daddy’s money, the unless studying and promoting himself, just to get into that stupid school and kickstart his illustrious career.

"Isn't that right, (Y/N)??" Hajime tenderly brought his hand up, stroking your shoulder awkwardly. The clench in his jaw, however, wasn't friendly at all. You couldn’t really blame him, though. He was doing it for your sake, after all. You had to get through this, and he knew he had to pull you through; everything depended on it.

How could this flock of idiots not tell the “chemistry” was forced???

"Uh… o-of course! Yeah!" You smiled, a fake chuckle escaping your lips, and the crowd of reporters and internet journalists roared in front of you. Of course they did… wasn't everything the disciplined and people-pleasing boy beside you said fucking hilarious? You sighed, returning your gaze to the mass of people below you as you and your leading man sat raised on a platform behind a pretentiously high table.

    Just let Hajime handle all the questions, you thought to yourself indifferently. You always did. They rarely directed them at you specifically, anyway. So much for your dream: to stun the world as an independent starlet, a crimson-hot femme fatale. It was always ‘Hinata Hajime’s doe-eyed leading lady!’, ‘Hajime’s little love interest!’, never ‘(Y/N) (L/N)... featuring Hajime Hinata!’ But... you were famous, and with no little chunk of change to boot… you should’ve been thankful… right?

So why weren’t you…?

  Your eyes scanned the faces before you, and you realized that you hadn't… really looked at them until now. Yes, the usual prolific online bloggers and huge theatre junkies were there, and Mr. Hinata of course. He wouldn't miss out on one of his company’s press meetings for the world, especially with his money-making beloved son in the spotlight. He was so anal, how could anything possibly go off without a hitch unless he was there?

You wondered if the girl next to him knew he was a ravenous monster as well, but thought better of it. Of course, she didn't know. You shouldn't have even known. But you did, and it plagued you every day of your life.

  Fuck... you just wanted to go back to your room and overthink in peace. It was embarrassingly uncomfortable to do so in public

Mr. Hinata sat sternly upright, with his polished, slick hair, in his polished, slick shoes and extravagantly tailored navy suit, his secretary at his side, brushing his hand unnoticeably between the chairs. His wife would never care, anyway. To their right sat a rosy-cheeked intern, spunky and full of character. Holding a clipboard between perfectly painted nails, the only thing that spoke louder than her bright smile was her neon miniskirt. She must not have known, either. No human simply knew, and still managed to look that innocent and lively. The PR girls loved press conferences, and each new show only yielded fresh publicity. This most recent show, set to premiere the following night, was a tale of romance: A vampire lord and his human lover: a medieval era period piece. Of course, for this reason, Hajime did nothing to hide his all-too-real fangs. 

You loved a good historical romance, and loved being in one even more. It had always been your goal as a starting actress to take the lead in at least one period play, be it Victorian, colonial, medieval.. but... it had not turned out quite the way you planned...

   A few other members of the Hinata family accompanied their revered head of  the household… or was it head of the clan… coven? Whatever, it was expected. The murderous bloodsuckers always clung to their leader’s side, and could always be found lurking around Hinata’s estate, if they weren’t already crammed up his ass looking for approval.

A flash came from the reporter to the left, directly into your vision, and left you dazed.

 Fuck… you seethed internally. Calm down. Calm down. The paycheck. That's it. This is almost over, anyway. Why did you always find yourself spacing out at the worst possible times? You acknowledged that it was how your body coped with the overwhelming urge to break down, but damn if it wasn’t inconvenient at the minute. Nothing screamed ‘I have something to hide’ like acting shady in front of a hundred people…

You leaned into Hajime again. Sell the relationship. Sell the love.

You exhaled in exhaustion. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Hajime… you did, just, not like this. Never like this. Lying to millions of fans and the press, pretending Hajime was anything other than a brother-like figure to you just to line his father’s pockets, tore you apart more than keeping his immortality a secret. Denying you both a chance at real love for fear of scandal… you were sure that there was no phrase you’d ever grow to hate more than “The Hinata Theatre Company!” Ironic, wasn’t it, that at one point in time, you begged to be here?

You found that scoping out a crowd lowered the anxiety you had about actually being in front of them. It's funny, many people asked how you could possibly be afraid of crowds or public speaking when you were a damn Broadway-level star. Your answer was always the same: your rush of adrenaline and passion for theatre got you through a show, but anywhere else but on that stage, and a crowd turned your mind to jelly. It was different… walking out for a performance tamed the butterflies that flew around inside your stomach.

  Of course, there was always the fact that your boss could tear you apart at a moment’s notice that contributed to the anxiety, but you obviously couldn't share that little bit of information with anyone. It was all so hard to process, that this kind young man beside you could be something so fearsome, that your whole life was a public sham. You’d never forget the day you’d found out… how it changed everything. You shouldn’t have to be afraid of your best friend, you just shouldn’t. But how could you ever truly trust him again?

Your eyes bounced once, twice around the room.

  ...No

   You gasped, breath catching in your throat as your eyes caught on something that caused you to jump slightly in your seat.

"You ok?" Hajime whispered, the crowd going noticeably silent for a moment. Mr. Hinata glared in your direction. A silent warning, reminding you that even one wrong move made his company look bad, and that would not end so well for you. That was the shining aspect of Hajime’s personality, that he was nothing like his father.

"Yeah, y-yeah," you spoke airily, cheeks heating. "I just slipped to the edge of my seat a little, almost fell!" You lied timidly, a small laugh.

They'll eat that shit up. Soft-spoken, innocent, clumsy girls are all the rage! Of course, Hajime picked up on the lie immediately, catching the change in tone, the skipping of your heartbeat. Being an immortal freak had its perks.

The bright-eyed boy beside you patted your arm, the crowd chuckling politely before returning to their bombardment of questions.

Your eyes flew back to the corner of the room, back to the object that had you startled in the first place. You tried to tell yourself you’d imagined it, but there was no mistake,

 It was him...

 Standing there in the entranceway, so dimly lit, he hid in the alcove. There was no mistaking his favorite jacket, the fabric ripped and weathered from use. There was no mistaking the intricate, almost root-like pale green veins which spiraled up his arms, told a story across his milky collarbone, tumbled down his wrists, and made him all the more intimidating. Intoxicating. There was no mistaking that full head of tousled hair, brightly standing out even in the meager lighting in that disregarded corner of the room, messy whisps branching out dangerously; an air of nonchalance and bored irreverence. Smug bastard…

And there was absolutely no mistaking the way those bright eyes illuminated his white skin in contrast, a frightening and ethereal glow shooting off of him in waves. Hajime’s chestnut-brown eyes never mimicked that terrifying iridescence, but then again, Hajime never took his life-sustaining drink from a human host. Your hands began to subconsciously shake. From fear or the itching desire to… you didn’t know, throw your arms around him, touch his cheek just once... ? You never knew with him. He was a wild thing, a beast untamable. But why the hell was he here?

Carelessly he leaned against the door frame. His tongue shot out predatorily, running along his lower lip in one fluid motion. His knuckles raised, brushing against the green of his coat and coming up to scratch the side of his face.

❘ What are you doing here?! ❘ You sent your thoughts out in waves so loud you might as well have been screaming. You knew immediately that he had taken them in, absorbing your mental cursing and inner toil like sun rays. It was a power and privilege only those of his kind who were purebred enjoyed.

He did not answer, but merely tilted his head, the corner of his lip rising in that maddening grin he always threw at you. An impish smirk hiding mischief and chaotic intentions, you were sure.

You knew it would be mere moments ‘til your flawless "boyfriend" beside you noticed his presence as well, and you feared what might become of this night that was supposed to be of celebration. Almost as if on cue, Hajime’s words halted to a stop. That evil smirk only widened, a small snort shaking the intruder’s chest.

"Nagito..." Hajime murmured through clenched teeth, his hand shooting down to grab your wrist. "He's here."

  "I know..." your words shook, just loud enough for any non-human in the room to hear. Now it was time for you to be Hajime’s rock. Nagito's head bobbed, looking down at his old ripped jeans, and you saw Mr. Hinata's eye twitch before you, his vampiric hearing triggered immediately upon hearing your quiet exchange with Hajime.

Mr. Hinata followed your eyes to the back of the room, his fiery glare landing on the face of his eldest and only step-son in the shadows.

Was it too late to run back into the dressing room and never come out?

You could feel the tension in the air, a line of electricity connecting the three vampires like mental twine, ready to break at any moment. It was like watching three animals square off, sizing up their threat on a National Geographic documentary. The other Hinata coven members, all also fierce bloodsuckers in their own right, merely sat forward politely, sensing Nagito's aura but knowing better than to give him the time of day. After all, alerting the press to his presence would certainly not be a wise way to stay on Mr. Hinata’s good side.

  No one outside of the family even knew about the existence of the elder brother. He was an embarrassment, a stain on Mr. Hinata’s designer tie. In the packed room, he looked so out of place, with dark, torn clothes in a sea of try-hard collared shirts and dresses. Sure, everyone who was anyone in the media world had turned up for this interview, and would also return for the opening night the next day, but everyone who was anyone never included Nagito. He made sure of that. He just had to stick out, be different, didn’t he? Even among a bunch of immortal freaks, boy… was he a freak. 

Oh no, mommy remarried some rich man then got herself killed, better act like a little ungrateful little prick. Woe is me, I have super good luck that is sometimes super bad! No one understands me!!!

He sickened you, the way he did his best to destroy what he and Hajime’s family had built, all in the name of his backwards and twisted idea of “hope.” As if he didn't live like a prince because of the Hinatas’ hard work. Don’t get it twisted, you hated Mr. Hinata and would love to see the Hinata empire burn, but this company, the desire to be recognized and worth something, was all that held dear Hajime up. It was his only dream, and he deserved it. Nagito didn’t have a right to tear Mr. Hinata down if he had to wreck Hajime to do it.

     He disgusted you, you’d decided months back, to make it all easier on yourself. Everything he’d done, the trouble he’d caused, the hurt he’d caused so many people. Routinely, you reinforced to yourself that you hated Nagito Komaeda

   ...You were disgusted by the way you… just... couldn’t hate him. It didn’t feel right. Something felt… wrong in hating him.

  Your heart lurched, meeting his eyes again.

Why not? Why not just hate him, (Y/N)? Like everyone else…

Why was it so hard? You were supposed to be with Hajime. And Hajime hated Nagito. Everyone who knew Nagito hated Nagito. But… telling yourself you were anything but infatuated with that dangerous creature… was a lie. You owed everything, good and bad, to that feral, insane man.

Your nerves and the hairs on your arms pricked up like an agitated cat. Why why why? Why would he even do this? He knew what showing up here would start. He was born to start shit, to brew altercation, to cook up conflict. Maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt? Perhaps he finally came to an event to support his darling step-brother, but the way he bore his fangs when his eyes met Hajime’s said otherwise.

❘ Leave. Just Leave. You're just here to antagonize me and I won't let you be a problem. Not today. This is my day… ❘ Hajime spat mentally, and his thoughts burned through your own and, you're sure, Nagito’s.

❘ Aren’t all the days yours, Your Majesty? ❘ Nagito’s thoughts were more severe, yet more playful, taunting, careless, a venomous snarl behind every synapse pulse.

❘ ...Leave. ❘ Hajime pulsed back in warning.

❘ ....Or what? ❘ Nagito’s own ominous threat reverberated through your cranium. You pressed a hand to your temple, an angry, stinging sensation pulsating through your head. Having a vampire read one’s mind was uncomfortable enough: feeling the slight probing and perhaps needing an aspirin after, but being the third line in a purebred pissing match… it was a call you desperately wanted to hang up on. But.. humans didn’t naturally hear a vampire’s thoughts on accident. No, you were hearing this conversation because you were meant to, someone wanted you to. You had no powers of your own, but Nagito kept you trapped in this nonverbal battle, strung up betwixt two immortal minds. You brought the back of your free hand up to your nose, wiping away a stripe of red vitality that began to flow from both nostrils. The panging inside, the angry shouting in your mind only got louder.

[gumnut-logic]

Take Me Home

This is @tsarinatorment​ ‘s fault. She wrote this amazing fic where neither Gordon or Scott come out particularly well. Please read the warnings on that fic before reading.

Consequently, the Virgil in my head went completely apeshit and demanded to be heard.

So, here we have a sequel to @tsarinatorment​ ‘s fic where Virgil arrives on scene.

Thank you to both @tsarinatorment​ and @janetm74​ for the readthough and support.

No real warnings on this one. Scott and Gords haven’t had a good time and a lot of Virgil comfort was needed. I hope you enjoy it :D

-o-o-o-

The air burned as Thunderbird Two killed speed above Brize Norton, her presence forecast by an urgent Thunderbird Five.

Three words.

“We found him.”

It had been a week since Scott had disappeared from a night club in Italy. A business conference that his brother had both been loathing and anticipating. The former because of the smarmy hangers on, the second for the chance at a little nightlife.

Security was an issue. It was always an issue. But Kayo had been on it.

A bomb, three dead security guards, five dead civilians and a nightclub of terrified patrons had been the result.

How far someone would go to obtain a Tracy had been underestimated.

And Scott was gone.

Kayo went mad. Horrified and furious, she was inconsolable. She disappeared, the only proof of life a word or two from an equally apoplectic Penelope.

They would find him or die trying.

John wasn’t much better. His initial frantic was replaced with cold and calculated. Eos was everywhere.

But despite all that, despite the power and skill of the Tracy legacy, it still took five days to discover even an inkling of what had happened.

A cult. A bunch of fanatics who claimed Scott was a messiah or something.

Virgil stood in the lounge staring at Penelope’s lips as they explained that his brother was still missing and they still didn’t even know where to look.

By evening Gordon was gone as well.

It was Alan who discovered their aquanaut’s absence and if Virgil clung to his little brother just a little longer than was needed, his excuse was simply that he needed to do SOMETHING and if comfort was all he could give, then by god, he was going to give it.

Another two days. With half his family missing it was Grandma who kept him sane. Grounded him in a way no meagre hobby of use of his hands could do.

And then Aunt Val finally made the call.

“We found him.”

Thunderbird Two hit the ground with a thump. Eyes of GDF personnel stared up at her, but Virgil ignored them as he grabbed a medkit, lowered himself to the tarmac and ran.

Scott had been found.

It was with hope and a little dread that he followed the GDF aide into the depths of the building.

The dread increased as he was led to an office that clearly did not hold his brother. The desk and two chairs only emphasized the emptiness of the room.

The moment his godmother walked in, his heart plummeted.

“Where is he?”

Her eyes were kind. “Virgil, he’s safe. He’s with Gordon.”

“Gordon?”

Aunt Val looked away and sat down on the edge of the desk. “Yes, your brother was very…persistent in this matter.”

Virgil frowned. Gordon had worked with the GDF? “I would have thought that would be expected.” A breath. “Are they okay?”

Aunt Val looked back at him. “Yes. Though Scott is still unconscious. A harmless sedative according to scans. Gordon has him.”

“Then why am I here and not with them?” His fists clenched and unclenched.

She looked down at his gloved hands before again catching his eyes. “They will be here shortly.” A small frown crinkled her forehead. “Virgil…tread carefully.”

The words were meant kindly, but they only wound him up more. Where were his brothers?

Before he could say anything, the door behind him was nudged open and Gordon staggered in carrying their eldest brother.

Virgil didn’t think. He just acted.

“Oh god, Gordon!”

He moved in, reaching for them, only to have his little brother stagger backwards out of reach.

“Gordon?” The aquanaut was ever so pale, his face a little scratched as if he had been scrubbing it with his fingernails. The GDF uniform was baggy on him as if it didn’t quite fit properly. But it was his eyes that were the worst.

They were haunted.

“Gordy?”

His brother blinked as Scott’s head lolled against his shoulder. “Virg?”

Ever so gentle. “Hey, Fish.”

Gordon’s arms were trembling under his brother’s weight, his white knuckles clinging to the sickly grey of Scott’s uniform.

“Can I see him?” Virgil took a small step forward, his eyes on Scott.

Gordon blinked. “Sure.” But the aquanaut made no offer to come any closer.

“Do you want to sit down? Here…” Virgil grabbed one of the chairs and gestured Gordon to sit in it.

Virgil bit the inside of his cheek.

But Gordon slid into the chair and Virgil was thankful. His little brother was so pale…

But Scott…Virgil crouched down and reached into the medkit, grabbing the scanner. The flash of yellow startled Gordon and his eldest brother was drawn closer to the aquanaut. Regardless, the readouts started streaming back to the tablet in Virgil’s hand.

Oh, thank god.

It was as his godmother had said. Unconscious, but his vitals were good. Strong indicators of a familiar but mostly harmless sedative in his system. He may as well have been asleep.

Of course, Virgil would be happier if he were awake, but he was so grateful to be seeing him after so long, it knotted in his throat.

But he couldn’t let the relief flow just yet.

There was definitely something wrong with Gordon.

The yellow light flickered over his fish brother and he flinched again.

It was both a relief and a worry that only Gordon’s historic injuries registered. Inflammation was forming at the base of his spine, probably in reaction to the weight he was carrying. Scott was far from light. Virgil knew from experience. Gordon had the arms and the strength, but not the stability and it was likely adrenalin and desperation were a big player in the fact his little brother could still clutch Scott to his chest.

Virgil slipped the scanner and tablet back into the medkit and quietly dropped it to the floor.

Pulling off his gloves, he let them drop to the floor beside the kit.

Gordon’s eyes followed his every move.

A pause, and then holding his breath, Virgil reached out and lay a gentle hand on Gordon’s shoulder.

When his brother didn’t flinch away, he squeezed gently. “Let’s take him home.”

Gordon blinked at him, staring.

“Gordon?”

Another blink. “Yes. Virgil. Take him home.”

But his brother didn’t move.

Scott continued to breathe evenly against Gordon’s collar bone.

Virgil reached out and brushed a finger through Scott’s hair, both for himself and to gauge Gordon’s response.

His fish brother immediately drew Scott in tighter and away from Virgil.

The medic let a quiet breath out between his teeth.

He knew what this was. There were textbooks and diagnoses and he had encountered it in the field himself many times.

It hurt more when it was a brother.

Cautiously but determined, Virgil moved the hand on Gordon’s shoulder to the back of his neck and the bare skin there. Pressing warm palm to tense neck muscles, he leant in and touched his forehead to Gordon’s ever so softly.

Quiet. Loving. “He’s safe, Gords. You can let go. You’ve saved him.”

There was nothing at first, other than a fine tremble of muscles used past their limit.

Then…

“Virgil?” His name was little more than a sob.

“I’ve got you. You’re safe. Scott’s safe. We can go home.” A pause. He exhaled, relief in his voice. “We can go home.”

There was a strangled sound before Gordon once again went silent. But his head slipped slowly past Virgil’s to land on his shoulder.

A moment of hesitation, wary his brother might bolt, and Virgil slid his other arm around both Scott and his little brother.

There was no sound other than Scott’s even breathing.

Gordon continued to tremble.

Virgil sat there, giving his brother time. He didn’t know what had happened to either of them, but he did know it was bad and it hurt.

His heart ached for Gordon and feared what would happen when Scott awoke. What horrors had both of them witnessed? How badly were his brothers injured in ways no medical scanner could ever reveal?

If he clung a little to both of them, he felt he had enough reason.

But Gordon was obviously exhausted and Scott needed to go home. Scanner or no scanner, Virgil wouldn’t be happy until they were both safe on Tracy Island under the watchful eye of Grandma.

He pulled away slowly to find Gordon almost asleep and blinking up at him wearily.

Virgil caught those tired eyes. “Let me help you.” He slipped his arms under Scott and gently lifted him away from Gordon.

Gordon continued to stare blearily.

“C’mon, bro. Let’s go home.”

Scott’s head lolled on Virgil’s shoulder as the engineer pushed himself to his feet arms full of big brother. Big being the keyword.

Gordon blinked, looked at his empty lap and then back up at Virgil.

“I’ve got him, Gords.”

The aquanaut stared a moment longer before nodding once and getting to his feet. He reached down and grabbed the medkit and Virgil’s gloves as if an automaton.

Virgil eyed him a moment longer before turning towards the door.

The expression on Aunt Val’s face stopped him in his tracks.

Her eyes were wide, but he frowned at her and stopped her from saying anything.

A swallow and she held the door. They slipped through quietly.

Corridors and doors and finally the ever so welcome sight of his ‘bird.

Gordon walked beside him as Two lowered her hatch. Stepping aboard, Virgil turned and nodded at their godmother who had followed them out.

No words were necessary.

Gordon leant in and his head touched Virgil’s shoulder.

A moment and the hatch retrieved them into Two’s belly.

They were going home.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

[visionsofus]

Wanda and Vision's Mixtape Masterlist (updating now)

cover by the wonderful @jjlover01​

Note: my inbox is currently open for prompt/ song submissions 🥰 (1-2wk turn around)

AoU to CW

#10 Death Stranding by CHVRCHES

what will become of us if we dare to dream? Wanda and Vision spend the night at a glitzy party for a mission and get jealous when they see each other with other people. read on AO3

# 11 Happy Together by the Turtles

the only one for me is you. In which Wanda and Vision try to deliver on a promise to cook breakfast for the rest of the team but end up goofing off together instead. read on Tumblr // AO3

#12 Where the Shadow Ends by BANNERS

put your trust in the light you cannot see. Wanda falls ill at the compound and Vision panics. Surprisingly, her illness gives them an opportunity to talk about their feelings. Wanda comes to terms with putting faith in her feelings and in Vision. read on AO3

#15 Flares by The Script

did you see the sparks filled with hope? Mere days after the battle in Sokovia Wanda is still coming to terms with Pietro's absence and the new life she is faced with in upstate New York. Waking from a nightmare she leaves sleep behind and takes solace in Vision as an unexpected comfort. Read on Tumblr // AO3

#19 Feel Something by Jaymes Young

you could be the one to make me feel. Movie night at the compound isn’t going well for Vision, and that’s even before he decides to try and be a bit more human and eat food. He manages to drunkenly confess his deepest insecurities about his own existence before the night is out. Ft. angsty Vision, jealous Vision, pining Vision and basically Vision feeling a whole array of emotions he doesn’t know how to deal with. read on Tumblr // AO3

#21 Start a Riot by BANNERS

I will tear down every wall just to bring you home. Wanda has a breakdown shortly into arriving at the compound and Vision is the only one who can get through to her. read on Tumblr // AO3

#25 Remedy by Adele

I will be your remedy. Wanda comes back injured from a mission and Vision has to come to terms with her mortality, and the limits of their relationship. Tender touching and the intimacy of tending to wounds. AO3

CW to IW

#3 Rescue my Heart by Liz Longley

Rescue my heart (I'll drown without you). In which Vision arrives to help break the Cap’s team out of Raft prison post-Civil War. Wanda recalls fond memories of the compound and comes to terms with the idea of living on the run. read on Tumblr // AO3

#5 The Best by Tina Turner

a lifetime of promises, a world of dreams. In which Wanda searches Edinburgh for Vision after she arrives late at their safehouse. When she discovers his energy signature floating around the city, she decides to follow the threads to their source. Along the journey she recalls the complications of their long-distance, secretive relationship but by the end recalls exactly why they sacrifice so much to be together. read on AO3

#6 Somewhere only we know

In which nobody died in Endgame and Vision gets the opportunity to pick up where he and Wanda left off before they were interrupted in Edinburgh. read on AO3

#7 Clarity by Foxes

don't speak as I try to leave (I'll fall right back to you). A distressed Vision shows up at Wanda’s door after a particularly bad situation goes down at the compound. She comforts him as they both try to reconcile with the very different lives they are now living. read on AO3.

#8 Our Corner of the Universe by K.S. Rhoads

Our little corner of the universe. In which Wanda and Vision are coming to the end of a few weeks together in Paris pre-IW and Wanda dreams a life for them where they no longer have to run and hide. Unknowingly, she draws Vision into her dream and they both must contend with the idea that this reality isn't something that will be easy for them. read on Tumblr // AO3

#9 If You Ever Come Back by The Script

just like you were never gone. Wanda and Vision recall an argument that forced them to go their separate ways in the early days of their relationship post-CW. Upon finding out Wanda is near the Compound Vision can't help himself and seeks her out to apologise. Read on Tumblr // AO3

#13 I Know Places by Taylor Swift

just grab my hand and don't ever drop it. Wanda and Vision try to spend a peaceful evening out for dinner in Paris when they are suddenly attacked. To keep each other safe they split up, forced to make the harrowing journey to the next safe house separately. Vision is faced with Wanda's mortality. read on AO3

#14 Me and My Husband by Mitski

when he walks in, I am loved. Vision is reminded that it is Valentine's Day and decides to show up at Wanda's safehouse to surprise her. Fluff ensues and Wanda's fugitive teammates realise exactly how close the pair have become. read on AO3

#17 Can You Feel My Heart by Bring Me the Horizon

can you feel my heart. One year into being a fugitive Wanda gets cornered, Vision sees the news in real time and runs to her aid. Aka Vision going apeshit when he thinks Wanda is dead. read on Tumblr // AO3

#18 That's All by Michael Bublé

All I have are these arms to enfold you and a love time can never destroy. Wanda and Vision share a perfect morning in Paris, snuggled up together watching the rain stream past the windows. aka 1000 words of fluff. Read on Tumblr // AO3

#20 The Scientist by Coldplay

you don't know how lovely you are. Wanda surprises Vision by breaking into the compound shortly after the fight in Germany. read on Tumblr // AO3

#23 Bury This by RVRB

I should bury this. Immediately after Wanda leaves in Civil War, Vision reflects on his feelings surrounding her departure. AO3

Post-IW

#16 Through the Fire by Jake Etheridge

I was lost (now I'm found again). The Battle of Wakanda is over. Vision knows he's gone and that there is no coming back. Taking pity on Vision, the mind stone lets him see some of his most treasured memories once more, to ease his passing. read on Tumblr // AO3

Canon Divergence

#1 Last Dance by Camera Can't Lie

If this was our last chance (I'd ask you to say). In which Civil War never happened and they all lived happily ever after. Wanda and Vision dance at one of Tony’s fancy galas and are forced to address the feelings that have become apparent to themselves, and the rest of the team. Yearning included with a happy resolution after a lil bit of angsty longing. read on Tumblr // AO3

#2 Infinity by Jaymes Young

Darling my soul, it aches for yours. In which Wanda and Vision sneak out of the compound and go on a date and just revel in the act of being together in public. The rest of the team doesn't know yet so they're working had on keeping everything a secret. When they arrive back Vision is so enamoured with Wanda that he trips the Compound alarms, waking everyone up with the fear of a break in at the front of their mind only to find the pair in a compromised position. Read on AO3

#4 Light Me Up by Ingrid Michaelson

we are tonight, we are forever. Wanda and Vision spend a domestic evening together free from the rest of the team. read on Tumblr // AO3

#22 Only Us by Ben Platt

it can be us, and only us. The Sokovia Accords are renegotiated so that the team are never divided. Following the successful signing of the document a press event is held at the compound. Wanda and Vision take a moment to breath away from the crowds, both have been holding back from each other for months, worried about risking their friendship. A simple miscommunication leads to a brief moment of angst as they realise their months of pining over each other has been mutual. read on Tumblr // AO3

#24 I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

I wanna be yours. Things get racy between Wanda and Vision in the compound kitchen. Vision tries to come to terms with the intensity of his feelings for Wanda. AO3