#also can the hair team drop a tutorial

[heich0e]

Dear Liv,

Sorry, me again! With all that baby talk 💓💓 I was wondering what about…a suna baby? (I know I’m pushing my luck here but idk a sweet mini suna would be adorable). Also that sounds like the ideal vacation plan! But don’t forget to put on sunscreen, sunburns are no fun >:( & love u too!

Yours truly,

a baby-enthusiastic follower 🖤

….. you are definitely pushing your luck here

i think suna’s baby is a mommy’s girl but he is obsessed with her. takes pictures of her all the time. when he’s away for games or training he FaceTimes you CONSTANTLY so he can see her. requires constant updates on how she’s doing or what happened that day. she prefers to be held by you but suna is always nearby. like if she’s asleep in your arms on the sofa he’s sitting right next to you, squished into your side so he can run his finger gently over her soft chubby little cheek. if you’re wearing the baby in a baby carrier on your back he’s standing behind you playing peekaboo with her.

but when suna’s away for a training camp in Tokyo for the national team and baby (a toddler now) gets sick, she won’t stop asking for him. her fever is high and she won’t stop crying and you call him near tears telling him you don’t know what to do and he RACES home to you. she FINALLY falls asleep once she’s curled up on his chest when suna crawls into her little princess bed with her (still in his team Japan tracksuit), having dropped his bag at the door and run right to her. you find them in the same position in the morning when you go to check on them, and find suna baby’s fever has finally broken in the night. you snap a pic of your own while they’re still sleeping.

I also think he watches those kid hair tutorial tiktoks in bed beside you when he can’t sleep at night so that when baby’s hair gets longer he’ll know how to do it—but for now he’s mastered putting a little pigtail right at the top of her head with a little bow. 🥲

[kageyuji]

How the pretty setter squad kisses

-> warnings ; kissing, making out

-> includes ; oikawa, kageyama, kenma, suga, and akaashi

a/n ; idk which group i want to do next! i was thinking about aces or liberos, but who would you guys want?

oikawa —

i feel like oikawa is the most experienced out of all of them, i just think he’s been in more half-relationships than the others

the first kiss probably happens at a very light hearted time; the two of you were somewhere just relaxing, laughing at some dumb joke or story he’d said when he suddenly asks if he can kiss you

you’d smile and say yes, he’d smile too and lean in

he’s very gentle and his lips are softer than you’d expected

his hands rest on the sides of you neck with his thumb on your jawline, pulling you just a little bit closer to him

you feel him smiling against your lips and then pull away, leaving you flustered although he seemed relatively calm about what had just happened

he’s probably the calmest out of everyone

not in a way that he didn’t care about this kiss, because he definitely did care, i just think he’s had a lot more first kisses

he isn’t very consistent with his kisses; sometimes slow and soft, other times rough and passionate

sometimes he rests his forehead on yours and just kind of. sits there

he finds it very calming, or so he says (we all know it’s because he lowkey wants you to kiss him again)

he also likes to gently kiss the tips of your fingers whenever you’re cuddling, he finds it very sweet??

also, i feel like he’s the type to give you sleepy kisses

like he’s half asleep, you both had long days, he just leans in and very lazily gives you something that’s more than a peck but not quite a kiss

makeout sessions are,,,,interesting to say the least

he’s very handsy and flirty, and he loves to be marked up

he would gladly show off any hickeys he earned (yes, earned)

he’s very passionate when it comes to making out w you <///////3

he likes you in his lap whenever you’re making out, his hands on your back with your arms preferably thrown over his shoulders

he watches makeout tutorials don’t @ me ABSJDBF

he also holds his hand on the small of your back so he can hold you against him, you don’t really notice it until you go to move away from him

but he’s holding you the entire time you’re making out

kageyama —

you’re going to have to initiate the first kiss; he doesn’t quite know how to ask so he waits for you

but also, it takes him a while to trust you enough to let his walls down a little bit

it’s not a person thing, he just isn’t one to rush into something, even if he’s known you for a while

which is why it took a long while for you to make the first move

you leaned in slowly, making sure he didn’t pull back

“can i...?” you asked

he looked awkward and even a little nervous, but he nodded

with that, you closed the distance between you two

he is a little confused as to what to do with his hands, does he hold your hand? does he hold your face? it feels awkward to have them at his sides but can he touch you?

when you put your hand on the side of his face, he freezes up at first but then leans into your touch

he’s also probably the first to pull back

it’s not that he wants to, his brain is just a fried mess of trying to figure out if he’s a good kisser, if he did it right, was he awkward? how long is a kiss supposed to last?

of course, you know absolutely none of this because he’s not that great at expressing his emotions

he has an expression on his face that’s something like panic

he has so many thoughts. he’s running through it in his mind again. he’s screaming internally

on the outside he’s still doing the 😧😳 face

after the first kiss, they go a little bit smoother but not really

it takes him a while for the kisses to get less awkward

also he’s much more a fan of quick pecks than full on kissing

however, makeout sessions are bound to happen at some point

he’s hella awkward about it at first, he’s literally never made out with anyone before

again, he doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands in the beginning

eventually he figures it out and things go a lot more smoothly, but he’s still slightly hesitant

i feel like he wants you to set the pace, at least to begin with; he doesn’t want to seem too controlling or too pushy

but once he figures out what you like he can takeover if you want him to

kenma —

i feel like with kenma, you’d have to make the move to initiate the first kiss

it’s not that it’d be impossible for him too, he just isn’t that big on kissing, he’d rather cuddle or something

so finding an opportunity to kiss you just isn’t on his mind

that’s not to say if the perfect opportunity arose he wouldn’t though

i feel like the two of you would have been snuggling, you perched beside him while he was playing on his switch

and you would have had to pec his cheek to get his attention, when he turned to you he looked a little confused

but you couldn’t help but notice how close your faces were together

“can i kissed you?” you asked him, and watched a soft smile pull at his lips

“mhm,” he answered

you leaned and pressed your lips against his, him kissing you back

he isn’t very touchy, it’s just a soft, feather-light touch on your side

also, if you kiss him while he’s holding something in his hands or he’s got his hands in his pockets, he most likely isn’t going to set the object down and take his hands out of his pockets

so it can get awkward with touching but only if you think about it too much VAHDFBNF

he honestly isn’t that big on kissing, he will sleepy nuzzle into you though? or give you a quick peck before he leaves

or he also like holding your hand, but not in like an actual way. he’ll like,,,want your arm thrown lazily over his arm or something

makeout sessions with kenma are,,,,something else, i suppose

it’s not that kenma doesn’t care about the relationship, he just isn’t a very passionate lover WHSUDBFN

so makeout sessions w him are not only rare, they’re rather sloppy

they aren’t consistent, either

sometimes he’ll want hickeys, other times not.

sometimes he wants you on his lap, his hands holding you somewhere

while other times he genuinely couldn’t care how you’re sitting

he’s usually still very gentle, but he’s pretty versatile about it so whatever you ask he’ll probably do

suga —

uhm. i’m so bad at writing suga anyway so uh basically

i feel like he’s not the type that like,,,ask you out of no where

the first time, you’ll definitely see it coming before he asks if he can kiss you

he’s smiling the entire time he asks, and even if you say no to him the smile never drops from his face

if you do say yes, he lets out something like a chuckle and leans in to kiss you

he is no way a rough kisser, he’s very soft and gentle

he has one hand on the side of your face and the other is on your waist

the first kiss is probably short, but when he breaks away from you he’s still just inches away from you face and his hand is still resting lightly on your cheek

so if you lean again by no means is he going to stop you

he’s pretty calm about it, i’m not saying he’s smooth by any means AHSJFJNF but he’s probably the most calm out of all of the setters

he’s used to initiating kisses i think, but he actually kind of loves it whenever you try to move first

the first kiss actually wasn’t so awkward, but it slowly becomes less and less so the further into the relationship

sugas the type to pepper light kisses all over your face

but i also feel like his kisses get a lot more lazy the further into the relationship? not in a bad way, but he’s the type to give you sleepy, half-kisses

suga is v sweet w his makeout sessions!! he always asks before giving hickeys, he’s very gentle about moving you or adjusting if any awkward situations happen

he’s probably the most verbal? he asks a lot of questions

he starts off very soft and gentle, but based on how into it you get the more he’ll adjust to what you want

hickeys are kinda. eh, i suppose. he’s a-okay giving them, but unless you ask or want to he isn’t gonna ask for hickeys on himself

akaashi —

who makes the first move is kind of 50/50, akaashi has a lot of anxiety but also he isn’t afraid to speak his mind

he’s also very intuitive so i feel like he’d be able to tell whenever you were ready, and if you were too afraid to say something he’d definitely make the first move

i also feel like akaashi is probably the sweetest out of all of the boys when it comes to asking you

he’ll grab you hand, looking you right in the eyes and asking you straight forward if he can

whenever you say yes, he’ll smile and lean in of course

he’s a bit rougher with his kisses than you’d originally expected, his hand under your chin in order to pull him closer to you

he’s got to be holding you in some way; wether it’s a hand on your waist or just him holding your hand

he’s probably the first to pull away - his kisses are kind of short compared to the others’

he’ll probably pull away from you a little, although not all the way. your faces are still close, but not too close

he’s smiling, a dry laugh coming from him

his other kisses usually happen in a similar manner, although how he kisses can change from time to time

he can definitely kiss a lot softer sometimes though as well

makeout sessions are sort of a different story? kind of?

he starts off slow, but then gets more rough the more into he gets

he likes to leave hickeys, but if you don’t want any it’s not like he’s gonna complain

he’ll claim to be embarrassed whenever you leave hickeys on him, although he secretly loves it whenever his team sees them

he’s not handsy per se, one hand rest on his waist and moves up and down and the other is on your back

he’s also another thats verbal, he likes to communicate w you, asking if this is ok or if you’d like this

he likes it whenever you run your fingers through his hair, curling your fingers and tugging lightly

[unwhitewashthebadbatch]

What's wrong with Echo?

Probably the most egregious whitewashing offense out of all of them is Echo. Compare how he looks now to what he used to look like:

After being frozen for over a year, he's lost all of his melanin. Many fans believe a year without sunlight while locked in a freezer will burn away every last drop of melanin someone has. This is not how melanin works. Those of us who share a skin tone equal to or darker than Echo's know that even years indoors won't lighten our skin to such a drastic shade like this--and no amount of nutritional deficiency and lack of sunlight will drain someone's melanin in such a manner. While certain environmental or traumatic factors can affect one's melanin output and lead to things like vitiligo, this is not the case with Echo, and as much as not been confirmed by the team (1). Echo's appearance in the series is actually lighter than he appeared in the season 7 arc. This is a result of a group of designers who do not know how melanin works, who assumed that people of colors' skin changes the same way white people's does, and who then rendered something extremely unlikely for the sake of "storytelling". Many dissenters of #UnwhitewashTBB cite "narrative/visual storytelling" as a justification for the gross amount of whitewashing that has happened with The Bad Batch. This argument is weak because Echo's being pale serves no real purpose to the plot or characterization of himself or anyone else in the series. Echo's missing limbs do--he uses his probe to hack into computers, for instance. Some have said that Echo is pale for the same reasons that Darth Vader is pale: damage done to the body, an assumed lack of blood, and his being "more machine than man" and somehow less/inhuman because of it. Besides this being grossly ableist, Vader and Echo have only their prosthetics in common. In every other way, they're completely different. Why should Vader and Echo have a narrative connection via visual storytelling like this? Is that the type of story that should be told about Echo: that he is less than or inhuman because of his disabilities? Should we use ableism as a justification for racism? And why assume the creators intended to do something that makes no sense when the much more plausible answer is right there: they do not know how melanin works and defaulted to how white skin behaves under extreme conditions. Beyond this, as of this carrd update (7/29/2021, after the release of episode seven) Echo has basically been ignored by both The Bad Batch and the plot. Fans have begun to think that his presence is for nostalgia and nothing else, because his treatment in the series has been subpar to a worrying degree. Disabled fans are concerned about the ableism surrounding Echo. The Bad Batch is introduced to us by insulting regs and establishing their superiority complex. They harass his brothers and doubt his loyalty to his family for the entire arc, and then we see Echo again, and it's revealed that he's disabled: multiple amputations and various devices needed to keep him alive. Even when he's saving their lives, the Bad Batch don't trust him. At the end, Rex says that if Echo no longer "fits in" with clones like him, he can go with The Bad Batch. There are multiple issues with this, the largest being that Echo is disabled, not a criminal, and not a freak. There is absolutely no reason as to why the 501st that he's fought beside for most of the war beforehand would suddenly reject him now that he's missing some limbs and hair. There wasn't ever any point in TCW where clones were shown to collectively be ableist. Why wouldn't have Echo been able to fit in? Why wouldn't he have been accepted? Would Jesse or Kix have mistreated him for being tortured and abused by the separatists? Would Anakin have? Combine this with the continued narrative coddling of the Bad Batch. They have genetic superiority-fueled egos, never saw Echo as their equal, but have him join their team anyways, proving once again that this team of whitewashed superiors are better than the brown "regs" they despise because they "accept" Echo and his disabilities. The message that the team is sending just with that decision at the end of that arc is dually racist and

ableist one. The issues do not end there. Echo is new to the team, so it's understandable that he doesn't have a wall-set bed on Kamino, but he also doesn't have a seat on the Marauder. Despite being a double amputee, he's made to stand in many of the scenes we see him in, while the rest of The Bad Batch reclines in some way. One example is in episode seven, when everyone is asleep waiting for Wrecker to wake up and Echo is the only one standing. His lack of an arm is another example--he's still made to climb and carry things literally one handed, while the probe attachment only occasionally serves a purpose. Why not give Echo a hand that opens up with a probe inside it? Disabled fans have noted that it's like the team refuses to acknowledge Echo's status as a disabled character, instead either choosing to put him in extremely uncomfortable situations that an able bodied person would be fine with, or ignoring him entirely. In episode seven, we also see that Echo has a patch on his head before anyone else has even had the surgery to remove the chip. And when Wrecker wakes up, Rex says they only need to do three more, excluding Echo. Was Echo's chip removed off screen, and if so, why skip it? This may be a continuity issue, but such an oversight calls into question how much the writers see Echo as more than just the butt of jokes and the metal ragdoll, subject to constant uncomfortable situations and dehumanization. Within the Bad Batch, the implications are still dire: they may have pulled out Echo's chip as a tester before doing the "real" work of taking out Wrecker's. Echo is referred to as "more machine than man" by Tech in the premiere, and then Crosshair makes a comment about how Echo has been "turned into that", regarding his series of prosthetics and technology keeping him functioning. The worst offense is when he gets sold, and it's played off for laughs that the mostly-metal disabled man is now being treated as actually metal and inhuman. The Clone Wars already had issues with acknowledging the clones' status as slaves (Slick is villainized, the Kadavo arc makes no mention of how Rex feels being sold into slavery), and it's disappointing to see that these issues have continued into The Bad Batch. Fans are hoping that Echo doesn't keep being put into dehumanizing or otherwise dangerous situations for a disabled person, like when he got thrown and stunned in episode seven. (1) If the team had wanted to show damage to his skin without completely bleaching him, they could have designed him with patchiness, vitiligo, and/or other skin tone variations that show that damage has been done. Fans of color have also noted that this change seems to be permanent, as Echo does not seem to be regaining his melanin. Hunter | Crosshair | Wrecker | Tech | Omega | Home Fan Theories | Photo Gallery | Art Tutorial | Other Issues | FAQ | Goal

[1oserjk]

— full stop | 03

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

a series.

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

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

02 ⇋ 04

x full stop masterlist | x masterlist

shit is 16k .. sry 

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

full stop | 03: unhappy birthday

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

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

You choke.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyejin.” You glare. 

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

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

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

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

Her eyes narrow. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.” 

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

“Hyejin!”

“—then I’ll let you know.” 

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

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

“Love you.” 

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

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

“Of course.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She nods. “I am!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hum, “Is that so?” 

She nods dramatically. 

“So what would you want this year?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

“Of course!” 

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

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

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

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

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

“O-Okay, but-“ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then, I’ll drive you back.” 

“Jungkook, no, it’s okay-“ 

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

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

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

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

You rush to the side of Jungkook when they disappear. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

He still had it. 

For a second, you smile back at it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook shuts his eyes before tiredly letting out a sigh. 

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

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

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

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

You nod. 

“What about yours?” He suggests.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was until you spoke up again. 

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

His fingers unknowingly grip on the steering wheel. 

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

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

They keep clinging to the wheel. 

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

“You had every right to be.” 

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

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.” 

“Yeah,” is all he says.

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

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

-

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

She nods. 

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

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

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

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

She complies easily, shuffling towards the cushioned chair. 

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

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

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

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

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

She only nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Presents?” Yeona brightens. 

“No,” You and Jungkook rush. 

“Mommy meant something else..” 

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re both matching.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook notices. 

“You okay?” He asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You finally sleep. 

-

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

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

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

He’s still confused. 

“Seol?” You finally spit out. 

“Oh.” 

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

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

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

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

“Oh—okay.” You wonder why. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And she definitely was. 

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

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

“Careful,” Jungkook calls from next to you. 

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

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

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

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

“Starting to feel better?” He murmurs softly. 

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

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

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

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

“She worries about you.” 

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

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

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

“Uh, hi Mom. Where’s Yeona?” 

“With your father.” 

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

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

“Headache,” you finish and state for him. 

“Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

You groan. “And I still am.” 

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

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

She gasps. 

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

“Jeon Jungkook,” his mother scowls. 

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

“You told her?” 

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

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

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

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

“Yeona, where have you been?” 

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

You chuckle. “Is that so?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s good.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh no.” 

“Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

“You aren’t going to stay and eat?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, sorry mom.” 

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

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

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

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

“Mom!” 

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

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

Her son groans. “Just use your phone.” 

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And how much in total?” 

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

“Mom.” 

You shush him. “Leave her alone.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You really do look pretty today, _____.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you need a tissue?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Daddy,” Yeona taps. “Want off.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least, to her eyes you were. 

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

Nothing more, nothing less. 

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

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

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

“That was—” Jungkook starts. 

“—Definitely new,” you finish. 

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

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

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

“Besides, I don’t really mind.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you doing?” 

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

“_____..” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

“Holy shit,” you gape. “It’s huge.” 

“They’re loaded.” 

“I-I can’t go in this, Jungkook.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A brow arches. “When are we not?” 

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

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

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

His head tilts in reason, “Fair.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does that mean you and—“

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

“.. Right.” 

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

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

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

-

It’s nighttime now. 

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

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

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

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

He pouts. “Why?”

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

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

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

“But then Kiumin..” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“J-Jungkook!” 

Childish. Absolutely childish.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy shit.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Running away?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You accidentally collide against something. Hard and wide. 

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

“Shit, are you okay?” 

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

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

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

“O-Of course I am.” 

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

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

“Hi, baby.” 

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

“U-Uh..”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What now?” 

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

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

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

“I don’t care,” you deadpan. 

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

“Ouch.”

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

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

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

“Thanks, Hyejin,” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

All is forgotten, smile setting on your lips.

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

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

You giggle. “Are you having fun?” 

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

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

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

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

He nods. “T-That’s good.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-It was Yeonie’s idea!” 

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook—!” 

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

“Sweetheart, no! Listen to me-“

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyes crease and she giggles loudly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You observe him as he answers. “Hello?” 

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

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

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

“I—I miss you too.” 

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

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

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

You finally pull away from him completely. 

“_____.”

You give a curt smile. “Yeah?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He understood exactly why. 

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She mumbles incoherently. 

“Come on,” he nudges, “Up.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Luckily, he dodges it. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“_____..”

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

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

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

He’s still dancing and smiling.

“He’s not my husband anymore.”

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

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

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

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

Jungkook follows suit. 

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

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

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

“Oh,” Kiumin nods. “She’s awesome.” 

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

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

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

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

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

Hyejin bursts in laughter, everybody following right behind. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[vivid-wisp]

You know how it be suffering from big brainrot being into FNF so I’ve compiled a list of ideas for the characters. This is more so for myself but thought I'd share some of my ideas. Take this as you will, these headcanons are based on educated guesses, actual lore, or just for fun. I also really like explaining my reasoning for some stuff so be ready for that. Long post. :]

Boyfriend / BF

- Is asian specifically Japanese, based on the idea how the dev team like to agree Hatsune Miku is BF’s canon sibling. Can also be asian American.

- Despite his appearance BF is actually somewhat physically strong and capable. If he can’t rap battle someone he’d be down to beat someone up, based on the idea how PA (Phantom Arcade) says he sucks at FromSoftware games and would rather throw down IRL than in video games.

- Him and Pico were exes, but they dated when they were WAY YOUNGER, and this was before when BF or Pico knew how to handle a relationship properly. Pico was the one to call things off. (more on Pico’s section) They may still get kind of flustered around each other.

- For most of his childhood, BF never really felt like he stood out. It leads into the reason why he likes singing since it ironically feels like he's being heard, despite not really liking to talk a lot. He was a very quiet kid back then. He'd always liked singing and rapping, he just wasn't put into a position of intense judgement until meeting GF's father and mother, rockstar and ex-rockstar. Training arc begins.

- BF took courses/majored in music design or sound design in college, but dropped out to spend more time with Girlfriend and practice his musical talent himself seeing as it felt more natural than doing boring classes.

- Despite what people think, BF doesn’t dye his hair. It WAS a different color but a shade, like a lighter blue color when he was younger. (Based on Ninjamuffin/NM's recent AMA answers)

- BF owns a dog, not specific but definitely a large breed of dog that stays at home and is taken care of by his parents. He loves a lot of pets and animals, especially anything blue.

- It’s no surprise BF isn’t the smartest, but this comes from a place of putting on the “bad boy” act and being told he’d never make it anywhere in life so he never tried. BF is really a soft guy who deep down has a good heart and just wants to show his appreciation to the person (GF) who makes him feel okay knowing you don’t have to be the best.

- BF actually CAN speak, but chooses to be selectively mute. More so because he’s not the best when it comes to words, and he’s never felt the need to talk. Don’t expect much because like in Week 6, it’ll likely just be random noises he makes or his signature “beeps!” He still reacts, just with noises. (we ignore the logic of him singing it just sounds like beeps to us the players while everyone in universe perfectly understands) [just saw NM's recent AMA I GODDAMN CALLED IT LET'S GOOOO]

Girlfriend / GF

- GF unsurprisingly, has a very wealthy background and in turn family too. So she’s no stranger to most expensive things. This doesn’t mean she won’t appreciate anything BF gifts her, in fact she’s more than appreciative of anything if it comes from BF her love.

- May or may not be a demon like her parents but she doesn’t want to scare BF, and also has slight appearance anxieties about it so she chooses to hide it by staying in her “human” form. She's self conscious of appearing like a demon, and doesn't want to scare people away just based on her look.

- So yes GF can and will in fact beat you up, a lot more than BF if she really wanted to. Especially if she went into her demon form.

- Also not the brightest, due to her extravagant background she’s been so spoiled to the point where everything is handed to her on a silver plate. Which also means her intelligence. They're both himbo/bimbo dynamic I don’t make the rules sorry.

- Actually really good at singing herself too, she’s a bit more wonky with rapping but she’s still good. Ties into the fact GF is the first to teach you how to rap/sing in the tutorial. If she really wanted to, she would destroy BF in a singing battle.

- Kinda aloof and can be apathetic, but more in the sense of “oh cool" instead of a "not caring" feeling way. Like moving on from something that was most definitely not cool like oh my god does that monster with bloody human teeth have a lemon for a head-

- Absolutely adores the large height difference between her and BF. She loves picking BF up suddenly and swinging him around. It’s cute and funny to her. (BF likes the height difference dynamic too but he'd never admit it)

Pico

- Pico never went to college nor finished, instead he takes up jobs from around the city as a mercenary. He's so skilled to the point it pays well enough he doesn't really need a job. He owns a small apartment.

- He likes spending time when he's not on the job, around BF and GF but this is more so at a distance. He does hang out with them, but don't expect him to show up automatically by their side. Like maybe once a week.

- Despite his original job to kill BF, Pico is very protective of BF and looks out for him albeit distantly. He knows BF can handle himself, but he will risk jumping into a situation if BF needs help. ONLY when he needs help.

- Pico still spends time with Nene and Darnell, but this is more so as an acquaintance thing. They're still friends, but all three of their jobs (as assassin and mercs) make things kind of awkward and distance from one another.

- Pico has a lot of untreated trauma, whether that be PTSD, schizophrenia, OCD, etc, a lot of it is very untreated. While Pico is aware he has some mental health disorders he's not aware of ALL of them. He frankly doesn't care nor does he really feel like dedicating the time to properly help himself, which stems from his upbringing in his childhood, "deal with it" attitude back then. He doesn't think it's a big deal, even though deep down he knows he should seek help. Especially after hanging out with BF and GF who, unsurprisingly, are (relatively) normal in the head unlike his friends Nene and Darnell. His disorders disrupt his everyday life and living routine, he can have a lot of very bad days.

- Pico is a wannabe DJ, he likes to sing and rap but prefers the latter and likes listening to music more rather than doing it itself. When he was a kid he liked BF for his passion for singing and rapping, and admired him in a way.

- BF and Pico went to the same elementary school, and were very much friends. After the events of Pico's School, Pico acted very different than how BF knew him, and somewhere along that path BF and Pico decided to date each other when they were in middle school (at 13-14). This was very much a hasty decision and didn't end well. Pico was the one to break things off due to knowing he couldn't handle the responsibility of another person, especially in a relationship. He had too much on his plate already from the trauma that still haunted him, and also was around the time Pico told BF he would be getting homeschooled instead after many years of decision with Pico's parents. It was best to end things before they'd spiral and get worse.

- While BF was heartbroken, he knew it was for the better even if he was upset for quite a bit. After Pico became homeschooled and left middle school, BF noticeably became more quiet until he'd meet GF near the beginning of high school. Pico and BF tried to keep in contact, but eventually naturally just fell out of touch with each other, both too busy with their own lives now. Pico never really resolved his whole feelings issues, which still show up when he'd meet BF years later again but knows those feelings are best left behind.

- While Pico was very surprised and shocked to see BF again despite being commissioned to kill BF, BF himself was too busy being caught up in seeing an old friend again. Whether that be BF was either too dumb to realize he was being killed or because he was genuinely very happy to see his old friend again, the two had a small reconcile after so many years and decided to rap for old time's sake.

[statticscribbles]

Paint Brush

Summary:Reggie/Plus Sized!Reader Request: they’re always together, PDA is not an issue for them except it is for everyone else lol to the point where they get things taken away like football/basketball and for y/n time away from art and it makes them super on edge until Reggie sees y/n looking drained because she has so much time away from art/him that she starts crying and he’s like “aw baby, c’mere!” You’d been dating Reggie Mantle for months, as the months had progressed you’d become more and more comfortable showing affection with him. Of course everyone else would scoff and grumble how it was too much, to on display; you’d usually just roll your eyes and pull him back in for another kiss to annoy them. That was before the teachers were bothered by it. You’d managed to divide the teachers into two groups, the ones that were annoyed by Reggie as in their eyes time spent making out with you during school was time he wasn’t studying; coach Clayton was the one who actually did something about it; threatening to bench him and take him off of the team if his grades drop from a result of spending too much time with you. The other group are the students that make snide comments and complain to any of the teachers that listen that its distracting and problematic; you’re ninety percent sure it’s because you’e bigger, but of course you’re not able to prove it and the teachers tend to agree with them.

It’s manageable, easy to ignore the warnings and even Reggie assures you that the coach won’t actually take him off the team. It’s manageable until your art teacher calls you back after the bell rings. “Listen Y/N; it’s not something I want to do, but the other teachers and students complaints are annoying me.” “Complaints?” You cringe slightly. “I know you and Reggie Mantle are together, and you’re both perfectly respectable and calm in my class, I‘m not sure how you two are outside of my class, nor do I care. Some of the other students are complaining that your, affection; to be polite is distracting them.” You sigh nodding.

“I know, they’ve been saying it since we got together.” “Do you think they’re bothered by you, not necessarily your affections for Reggie?” You nod trying your best not to look too upset. “They’re bothered because they don’t think that I; looking the way I do, shouldn’t be with him.” You teacher sighs nodding. “Well instead of cutting back on the affection; might I suggest not spending so much time together constantly?” “I’ll think about it.”

“I’m really sorry about this Y/N but I think it would be best for you to focus on your academic classes, seeing as they’re suffering based on this; issue the other teachers have brought to my attention.” “So I can’t come to art class anymore?” You swallow nervously. “No, no you can still come of course, I mean you have to go to class, but maybe not in the mornings and afternoons when I offer tutorials; maybe go to science tutoring instead. Your chemistry teacher said you’re really-“ “Thank you. I appreciate the advice.” You cut her off smiling and nodding before you walk out of her class towards your car. ————————————————————————————

It’s only been a week without the extra art class time; Reggie had been doubling down on practice and spending his mornings running extra drills; his afternoons spend in the library trying not to scream at his math textbook or the senior who offered to help him. He assures you that he’s not missing he date night you’ve set up and when he shows up an hour early you laugh shaking your head. “You’re early babe.” He steps into your house kissing you. “I didn’t know your couch took reservations.” “Bed actually, my parents decided to stay in and watch the marathon of Hollywood glamor.” “I’ve heard that it’s a good line up.” Reggie shouts into the living room as he follows you up to your room.

“Whoa I don’t think I’ve ever seen your room this clean.” You nod dragging your hands through your hair. “It’s been driving me crazy I feel like I can’t even go into the art class without someone looking at me or waiting for you to show up and its murder!” You snarl pacing back and forth shaking your head. “Babe at least we get to spend time together.” Reggie offers to appease you. “No I get that, it’s just;” You huff and sit on your bed before flopping. “I haven’t been able to properly paint in like a week and I want to scream.” “Paint me.”

“No, it’s not that I don’t know what to paint I just can’t I don’t have the time to set everything up and-“ “I know. Paint me, like on me. The acrylic paints you have are skin safe right?” Reggie smirks pulling his shirt off. “Is my back an acceptable canvas?” He laughs when you run your hands against his skin, nails lightly running down his spine. “It’ll do for now.” You smile pulling the acrylics over as he lays on the bed. “Make it a pretty sunset.” He laughs. “A sunset really?”

“Well it was our first date. Thought it’d be cute.” “You’re cute enough all on your own. Don’t go building yourself up as this amazing romantic so far from our anniversary, you’ll have to outdo yourself and you might not be able to top this.” “Well I’d much rather you top me for our anniversary; so, problem solved already.” He winks craning his head to watch you dip a brush into the red. “Hush babe.” You mumble fingers tracing the freckles on his back before you run your brush against them. “Hold still.” You mumble after almost an hour of painting. You won’t admit it but you’re incredibly relaxed, as you continue to work you can feel every muscle that’s been tense and twisted slowly coming undone. “That was the first time I moved since- Are you crying?” Reggie jerks turning fully around to pull you into a hug faster than you realize yes you are indeed crying.

‘Baby what’s wrong?” “Nothing? I guess, I mean I’m probably a lot more stressed than I thought.” “Why, did someone say something again I’ll-“ “No I was, I was just scared; that since we weren’t spending time together you wouldn’t want me anymore.” “of course I want you, not being able to see you as much, to kiss and hold you sucks; I’m not going to lie I hate it. But being able to spend this time with you and have it means so much more, is at least one bright spot besides its- oh sorry.” He twists looking at his back in the mirror, you scowl. “It was supposed to be a palm tree.” You narrow your eyes at the green streak cutting through the sunset you’d painted.

“It still is? Just with a really long leaf?”He shrugs and lays back down. “see what else you can turn it into, maybe next week you can redo the sunset.” “Next week?” “This is the most rest I’ve gotten in the last month between practice and studying this is the best hour of my life.” “Because you can sleep?” “Because I get to spend it with you, but the sleeping is also a plus.”

Support My Writing?

[wxlfstxrx]

“I might be bad at this, but okay.” for either Wolfstar or O’Knutzy if you have the time? And only if you want to ofc!

oh god i’m so sorry. this went waaaaaay off track. the prompt only comes in near the end HAHAAHHAA. still i hope you like it!! i thoroughly enjoyed writing it :”)

during quarantine, while staying over with the boys, logan decides to grow out his hair

it was always kinda long to begin with, his fringe reaching past his nose if he combs it flat after washing it

after two and a half months of quarantine it’s an actual mop, and there’s only so much hair his cap can contain

finn offers to help him trim it. even though he’s not fantastic at cutting hair, he’s helped kasey trim his split ends a couple of times during roadies and kasey hasn’t straight up murdered him yet so he assumes he’s at least half decent at it

logan refuses though; i’ve never grown out my hair before, he says with a wide smile and dreamy expression, i‘m excited to see how much i can grow out

leo and finn look at each other and shrug. if they’re being honest they’re as curious as logan is

if they thought that his curls were wild normally, it gets even wilder as his hair grows longer

but it’s also thick and silky and luscious and gorgeous

the boys cannot stop running their hands through logan’s hair every chance they get. in bed, in the shower, while they’re watching movies on the couch, while they’re all crammed in the kitchen as leo cooks, even while logan sleeps. they just really really like his hair okay

at one point, he even manages to tie a small half bun on the top of his head and finn just loses it. the trio end up staying up all night, and there’s a lot of hair pulling and logan will deny it if asked, but he loves it

after they eventually wake up and have breakfast lunch, logan complains about his scalp hurting and leo immediately plants himself between logan and the backrest of the couch and starts massaging his scalp

logan lets out a loud, breathy moan at the soothing sensation and soon enough they go for another round but without the hair pulling this time

as much as he loves his long-ish hair, it gets in the way a lot. he’s always brushing stray curls from his eyes and vacuuming hair off the tiled floor of the apartment

also, it sometimes gets very hot, and he yearns to be able to tie it up in a ponytail but his hair isnt long enough to do so. chunks of hair will fall out of his elastic the moment he takes his hands off his hair

eventually he tries learning how to french braid his own hair. he’s seen his sisters do it enough times, and moreover, he knows how to braid their hair, so logically he should be able to braid his own as well

who is he kidding? of course he can’t. he doesn’t know how his sisters do it, it’s difficult enough to braid someone else’s hair, but it’s a whole olympic sport for them to braid their own. logan struggles with it for several minutes (read: thirty seconds) before he gives up, groaning in frustration and wiping the sweat off his forehead and neck

leo walks into the bathroom and asks logan what he’s trying to do, and naturally leo’s an expert at just about everything so he says he can help logan to braid his hair, learning it from his younger sister a couple of years ago

leo mentions how much he loves the rainbow braided bracelet his family gifted him after he came out to them. he wears on his wrist at all times, and one weekend they decided to make matching ones for the whole family

ever since then he’s been fascinated with braiding and he asked his sister to teach him how to braid her hair. he knows how to do a french braid, dutch braid, fishtail braid and even a waterfall braid and suddenly gets very excited about braiding logan’s hair since he doesn’t have his sister to practice on ever since he moved to gryffindor

he practically drags logan back into the living room, pushing him down onto the couch while he stands behind it, leaning forward so his hips rest against the back of the couch while he combs through logan’s curls with his fingers

logan relaxes against the backrest as he lets leo do his magic, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of leo’s long, nimble fingers tugging lightly at his hair

within minutes, leo’s done with the french braid and he crosses over to straddle logan on the couch, pulling out some strands so they frame his face nicely. it’s short, but logan’s features are accentuated nicely and he looks so handsome like this. leo smiles at his handiwork, his gaze softening and he cups logan’s cheeks in his large hands and kisses him hard

finn wanders out of the bedroom at one point and full on drops his phone at the sight of logan with a braid. his phone screen breaks because he’s such a disaster and he makes logan and leo promise never to speak of it, even when they finally come out to the team

horny boy that he is, he instantly gets turned on because, well, his two babies are passionately making out, and also logan with braided hair is something that has been appearing in his dreams lately wink wonk

some time later, when logan’s hair has practically fallen out of his braid, finn decides that he absolutely must learn how to braid logan’s hair so he can do it all the time and basically live out his wet dream

after a long shower together, leo parts logan’s freshly washed hair down the middle and, with finn opposite him, both kneeling on the couch beside where logan is still naked save for the towel around his waist and scrolling through his phone, he patiently gives finn a step by step tutorial on how to do a french braid

it takes a couple of days of fumbling (finn has extremely clumsy fingers) but one day leo’s out buying groceries and logan asks finn to braid his hair for him

finn’s very nervous. i might be bad at this, but okay, he responds as he moves to stand behind logan on where he’s seated at the dining table. he takes a good fifteen minutes to do it, but it looks pretty good when he’s done if he does say so himself

as he secures the braid with an elastic, he softly tugs at the bottom of the braid so that logan’s head tilts back and looks up at finn upside down. he grins at him and bends down to press kisses all over his face. logan’s hand comes up to cup around the back of finn’s neck, directing his mouth to meet his, their tongues exploring each other’s mouths thoroughly and languidly

leo comes home to that and his heart almost explodes with pride at how much finn’s braiding has improved in just a couple of days

he also almost explodes at how hot the two boys look, and walks over to finn, pressing himself against his back

finn jumps in surprise and moans, and logan knows his braid is going to unravel again in approximately three and a half minutes but he doesn’t care

despite all the trouble long hair brings him, he thinks he might just have to keep it

[uh-drarry]

Day 6 - Sparkle

Warning: mentions of past child abuse (if you want more info, feel free to message me)

December 6, Day 6! This is from the wonderful list posted by @remus-john-lupin ! Thank you so much to @bisexualronaldweasley for beta-ing and making me laugh! You deserve a reward for this.

These are within the universe of my other content, but you do not have to read those to understand these. I won’t be making them all within the same time period, but they are the same au, they’ll just take place in different years. This one takes place when Wolfstar have been dating for three years (around 21 years old). Happy December and Happy Holidays!

There was only one gift left under Remus and Sirius’s Christmas tree. Remus was rather nervous to give it to Sirius. He’d accidentally stumbled onto something that he hadn’t known Sirius enjoyed, and he hoped he had been right in assuming that he would want to try it out. Grabbing the gift and bringing it back to the couch, he set it on his own lap and turned to Sirius.

“Erm, before you open this, I just want you to know that if you don’t like it, it’s easy to return. But I hope you like it.”

Sirius eyed him for a moment before smirking. Wagging his brows, he replied, “Is it a sex toy?”

Remus couldn’t help but laugh. “No, it’s not a sex toy. Here, open it up.” He handed over the bag and quietly watched Sirius pull out the tissue paper to uncover the many items at the bottom. Sirius froze, eyes slightly wider than normal.

When nothing happened, Remus started rambling. “I opened your laptop a little while ago to search something, and it opened to a paused video? It was a makeup tutorial and it was part of a whole playlist even, and I saw you were subscribed and had a whole playlist of makeup tutorials queued. I thought it was probably something you’d want to try and, honestly, I think you’d look-” 

Sirius interrupted, “Moony, makeup is for girls.” 

Taken aback, Remus didn’t know what to say at first. “What? Sirius, makeup can be for anyone.”

“No, it’s meant for girls. Remus, men don’t wear makeup, it’s how it is.”

“Who on earth told you that men can’t wear makeup, Sirius? David Bowie wore makeup, Prince wears makeup, I’m sure male models have to wear it, I would wear it if someone wanted to do it for me.” Remus paused for a second, thinking. “It was your parents, wasn’t it? They told you men shouldn’t wear makeup?” Sirius nodded minutely, and finally met Remus’s gaze with glassy eyes.

“What happened, Sirius?” As soon as he asked, Sirius started crying. Quickly moving closer, Remus wrapped him in a hug and kissed his hair as Sirius rested his head on Remus’s shoulder. 

A couple minutes later, Sirius turned his head so he could speak. “When I was fifteen,” he broke off and rubbed his eyes, pushing a hand through his hair before starting over. “When we were fifteen, the girls at school really started wearing makeup. Like actually trying to look good and learn things. I thought it was fascinating. It enhanced the things they wanted, but hid blemishes and whatever else, you know? So I asked Lily where she got hers but she just asked if I wanted a couple things instead, of course I said yes, I was so excited. 

“I never saw other boys take an interest. But the girls were so nice, they taught me some things and they each let me borrow things and gave me some stuff too. They’d even place orders for me, and I’d pay them back. I didn’t want my parents knowing about it, so I couldn’t use my account.” Sirius shifted against Remus, then continued.

“We would get together some evenings to do each other’s makeup and I loved how it looked on me when they did it. So they taught me how to replicate it. When I went home for summer though, Mother caught me putting it on one night. She, erm, made me too afraid to ever put it on again. And then she took all my makeup away. When we went back to school, I stopped talking to the girls about it, even though I wanted to. But I was too afraid of her hearing about it. I know it’s been three years since I’ve seen them but every time I think about trying again, I hear her voice in my head, and then I can’t. I watch the videos because I don’t hear her. I’m not putting the makeup on myself, so it’s fine.”

“Oh, baby,” Remus said, and pulled Sirius into a tight hug. He could feel more tears seep into the sleeve of his shirt, but he just rubbed Sirius’s back until he was calmer.

“Would you want to put it on me first?” Remus asked. “Would you still hear her voice then?”

Sirius sat up, looking at him with wide eyes. “Really?” Remus nodded, smiling at Sirius’s incredulity. Sirius immediately reached back into the bag, pulling each item out to lay on the coffee table in front of them and inspecting everything Remus had bought.

“How’d you get all the basics, as well as other stuff? Also this is actually a good brand, what the fuck, babe?” Sirius laughed, starting to look excited at the prospect of using makeup once again.

Remus shrugged, smiling. “I did my research.”

“Well I commend you. Now come here.”

When Sirius had finished, he handed Remus a mirror. Remus was honestly shocked. “Sirius, holy shit, I look amazing! How did you do this? My eyes are so sparkly!”

“Lots of practice in school, and I watch a lot of videos, Moony.” He took the mirror from Remus and stood it on the coffee table for his own use while he sat on the floor to be at the same level. He got his foundation ready, but froze with the brush just a centimeter from his skin. A few seconds later he dropped his hand, and his head thunked onto the table, eyes squeezed shut.

Remus moved to sit next to him again. “Hey, Sirius, look at me.”

After a few deep breaths, he did as asked, and Remus continued. “I am a man, wearing makeup right now. Happily, might I add. Is this wrong?” Sirius shook his head. “Then why would it be wrong for you to wear makeup? You know what else you’ve told me about that your parents were against?”

“What?” Sirius asked quietly.

“They don’t like queer people. But we’re in a happy relationship. They don’t like long hair on men. But you rock your long beautiful hair every day. When we were in school they told you to join the football team, but you joined drama instead. They told you so many things were wrong and yet you are proud of who you are. You got away from them as soon as you could and found a family who loves you. Wearing makeup would just be another way to say a big ‘fuck you’ to your parents if it’s something you really do want to do.”

Careful of Remus’s makeup, Sirius moved a hand to his face and leaned in for a kiss. “Thank you, Re.”

Sirius turned back to the mirror with determination. He brought the brush back up to his face, and finally, slowly, took the leap.

[s-horne]

In his defence, Tony was tired. He never slept well when Steve was away and Steve had been away for nearly a week. Sleep hadn’t been easy and Tony had been surviving on coffee and coffee alone.

With his ears still ringing from the loud music he’d had blasting in the workshop, he headed up to the kitchen slowly. He didn’t like to be in their house knowing that Steve wouldn’t be heading home at the end of the day and, with the mission as unsure as it was, no one had known when Steve would be finished.

Tony wasn’t expecting Steve to be home. He wasn’t expecting anyone to be home, which is why having an unexpected woman in his kitchen made him jump so high. Tony was a superhero. He had an iron suit of armour that he flew around the world to fight literal aliens. He shouldn’t have jumped so much at a single intruder.

Whilst a woman in his kitchen might have been low on someone else’s danger list, Tony could feel the last of his caffeine high wearing off. He also knew not to underestimate people; he’d made that dangerous mistake before.

They stood in silence for a long moment, the intruder standing at the other end of the kitchen, her palms flat on the counter between them. Tony blinked once, twice, keeping them closed for a second longer each time.

Every time he opened his eyes, she was still there.

“J?” he called out, keeping his wary gaze on the woman. “J, we have a guest.”

“Indeed, Sir.”

Tony only resisted rolling his eyes so that he didn’t have to take his gaze from his intruder. “And you didn’t alert me?”

The first thing that Tony had noticed was that her hair was long. It was well past her chest, a striking, dusty blonde that curled down to the very ends. The second thing was that she looked familiar, but Tony couldn’t place her.

It was no secret that Tony was attracted to women. Tony was pretty much attracted to every gender. But he was also an extremely happily married man and his eyes hadn’t strayed since he and Steve had gotten married. Since they’d gotten together. Even with that in mind, Tony couldn’t deny that the woman in his house was gorgeous.

It was in the eyes, he thought. The colour of them stood out even from so far away, bold and bright.

“I didn’t think it necessary, Sir,” JARVIS answered calmly, pulling Tony’s attention away from falling any deeper into the woman’s eyes, “given that Captain Rogers lives here.”

Tony’s eyes went wide. “Steve?”

The woman cracked a smile. “Hey, sweetheart.”

*

“Okay.” Tony dropped his empty mug back onto the table and smacked his lips. “Right. Let’s talk.”

Steve, or the female version of Steve, chuckled. The noise was higher than it ever had been before, musical in a much different way than Tony was used to. Tony knew Steve’s laugh. He knew Steve’s laugh in every way. Knew what it sounded like in his ear, knew what it felt like in his chest.

“Okay,” Steve echoed and Tony tried his hardest not to flinch. As gorgeous as the voice was, it wasn’t Steve’s. “I’m fine, by the way.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Tony’s mouth. “Good. I couldn’t see any bandages, but that means nothing with you.”

Another laugh. “Not this time, darlin’. Promise. Just… well. This.”

Steve gestured down at his, her, body and Tony grimaced. Right. He needed more coffee.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit.”

Steve jumped at Tony’s snapped answer. “What?”

“Bullshit. Steve always knows. He has an answer for everything.”

“I don’t,” Steve said softly, calmly. “I don’t have an answer for this.”

“My husband is in… I don’t know where he is, exactly, but he’s away. On a mission. He’s not in my kitchen and he’s not a woman.”

“Tony. Please, sweetheart. You know it’s me.” Steve reached a hand out and Tony’s gaze fell at the band around her finger. It was only a simple one, but Tony would recognise it anywhere. He let out a weird sort of snorted laugh when it clicked. It was a foreign noise, one that sounded like it had come from a different part of the room. From a different person, even. It wasn’t him… just like Steve wasn’t Steve.

“Nice ring.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, a smile clear in her voice. “Thanks. I kinda love it.”

They fell quiet again. Without looking up to Steve’s face, Tony called to JARVIS. “You ran everything, J?”

“I did, Sir. All reports sent to your StarkPad. I can conclude without a doubt that this is, in fact, Captain Rogers.”

The fact that the woman wasn’t fighting Tony or trying to protest her version of events added to the evidence in her favour and tipped the scales towards the fact that she was telling the truth. Steve knew that Tony couldn’t just be told something and instantly believe it. He needed facts and figures, needed cold, hard evidence in his hands.

He flicked through the reports that JARVIS had exported quickly, his eyes flickering up to the woman sitting opposite him every so often. Steve was sitting there calmly, hands curled around a mug of steaming coffee, ring clinking against the ceramic as Steve tapped absentmindedly.

“It’s you, isn’t it? Like, really you.”

Steve met Tony’s gaze. “Yeah. It really is.” Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and Tony couldn’t help but follow the movement. Steve’s lips had never been thin, but, as a woman, they were thicker than ever. A deep, dark pink that Tony wanted to bite at, make them a bold red instead. “We were close to finishing the mission when something went awry. Someone got wind of what we were doing or tipped off another group, I don’t know.”

Her hand reached up to sweep through her hair, but Steve had obviously forgotten about its new length and her fingers got tangled in the thick curls. The betrayed look on her face made Tony let out a startled laugh.

“Ouch. Well, anyway, someone must have– shit.” Steve tugged her hand again but all it served to do was yank on the roots.

Rising from his chair, Tony rounded the table wordlessly and lifted his hands to Steve’s hair. It felt the same, his mind noticed as he worked the strands quickly to untangle the curls and free Steve’s hand. When it was hanging loose down Steve’s back again, he stepped away and rooted quickly through a few of the drawers under the counter.

“Thank you,” Steve said, shaking her arm to dislodge a few casualties in the form of pulled-out hairs. “So, anyway, we think one of the groups that were told about our mission dabble in magic, or some form of it.”

Tony hummed before his fingers closed around what he’d been looking for and he let out a triumphant cry. “So you got hit by magic? A curse, maybe?”

“Pretty sure. None of us can be exactly certain because we didn’t see anything, but we didn’t eat or drink anything that wasn’t our SHIELD rations or made by one of us.” Steve’s speech ended in a soft gasp as Tony started working his hand through her thick curls.

“Sounds like it, then,” Tony said, fingers working quickly to plait Steve’s hair. “You know, your hair’s long. Like really long.”

Steve turned her head to lift an eyebrow in a perfect arch. Tony’s eyes were drawn to it, the reprimand for moving dying on the tip of his tongue. It was just another reminder that everything about Steve had changed. Even her eyebrows were thinner, a completely different shape to what they had been before. Tony swallowed and gently turned her head again so that she was looking away from him.

“Shut up,” he said, catching a few curls that had tried to break free, “it’s a big change. I’m not used to you having so much hair for me to grab.” He stopped himself as he realised how that sounded and did his best to push the dirty images that shot into his mind away. It was so not the time for that. “So, if you trust everyone on your team –”

“Which I do,” Steve cut in quickly.

“–then yes, it sounds as though it was magic. I don’t know of a serum or even a lab that’s working on this sort of thing, so it can’t be scientific. Who else knows what happened?”

“Probably most of SHIELD by now.” Steve sighed and her fingers danced around the rim of her discarded mug. “We had to abandon the mission, obviously, so we had to send in a report. I snuck away to come here, but they’ll need me soon. I’ll be summoned to a lab, I’m sure.”

Tony took a moment to collect his thoughts. He could admit that he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of his husband (wife?) being carted away like a circus attraction and poked and prodded by all manner of scientists.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” he said. Pulling one hair band off his wrist, Tony tied the end of the plait before twisting it up into a bun. Or, at the very least, into a vague bun shape. He had done his best with the two, stretched-out hair bands that he’d remembered he’d had shoved in a drawer. He was often finding them after late-night business meals with Pepper, the ones where they cracked open a few bottles of wine to pour over new contracts. More often than not, they ended up with YouTube tutorials playing and Pepper’s hair tied in all manner of styles. “No partner of mine is going to SHEILD’s labs.”

With a hand raised to feel her new hair-do, Steve spun on her chair and treated Tony to a soft smile. “Gonna trap me in your own lab, huh, darlin’?”

“You know me.” God, she was beautiful. Her face was a lot softer than Steve’s was as a male, her cheekbones a little higher and a little less pronounced. Though Tony tried not to feel guilty for noticing her looks, he couldn’t quite push away the feeling that it wasn’t Steve.

“I do.” Steve reached out and took Tony’s hand, interlocking their fingers. For once, her hand was smaller than Tony’s. The callouses were there the same as ever, as were Steve’s nails bitten right down to the fingertips. They’d been working on that habit, but Tony didn’t think Steve would ever break it.

Tony wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to feel. This was still his partner, but it wasn’t at the same time. Who knew how long it was going to last? Would he ever have his Steve back or would he be with the female version forever?

It was a lot to process and far too much to deal with on the amount of sleep he’d been surviving on. He wanted a nap.

Pulling his hand from Steve’s, Tony turned to the counter. “Right. Let’s move this somewhere a little more comfortable.”

 *

 Steve’s body looked so much smaller when she was curled up in her favourite armchair.

The night before he’d left for his mission, Steve had sat in that same chair as he’d laughed along with some reruns of an old sitcom they’d found on an obscure channel after flicking through a few hundred. Neither of them had paid all that much attention to it after Tony had crawled into his lap and connected their lips in a deep kiss.

Now, with her legs folded under her body and covered by a thick blanket, Steve seemed to be swallowed by the huge cushions. Still as fearless and as strong as ever, Tony could tell that by one glance, but smaller.

“Do I call you… Steve?” Tony squinted, head titled to his side as he looked at his partner. “No. Stephanie? Steph?”

He was rewarded with raised eyebrows and complete derision over Steve’s face. “That’s your main concern?”

“No! Of course it’s not,” Tony said before pausing. “Yes, actually. Maybe it is. I don’t know. Christ, you can’t just drop this on me. It’s a lot to process.”

He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling. It was so much to get his head around. Too much.

“I think I’ll stick with Steve,” he said eventually and he got a soft laugh in return.

“Okay. Works for me.”

“Even now? You don’t mind it?”

“Course not, sweetheart. It’s my name, isn’t it? It’s what you’ve always called me. I’m never going to not want to hear that from you.”

That helped a little, but Tony still felt like he was on uneven ground. Who knew how long it was going to last? Would Steve ever change back? It wasn’t the person that Tony had married, physically at least.

Though it wasn’t exactly unnerving, it wasn’t normal. Well, it wasn’t even not normal. That wasn’t what Tony meant.

Actually, he had no clue what he meant. All he knew for certain was that his head hurt and thinking about the situation so deeply wasn’t helping.

“Can we go to bed yet?”

The concern was clear in Steve’s voice when she spoke. “Are you okay?”

Tony sighed, letting his head drop forward again. “Fine. Of course I’m fine. I’m always fine.”

“You haven’t been sleeping, have you?”

Of course Steve knew that. It seemed that whatever body Steve was in, Steve still knew Tony inside and out.

“You have no proof of that. But no, I haven’t been.” Tony grinned at Steve’s sigh, but his head was still pounding. “I’m going to bed.”

“Wow,” Steve said softly, brow furrowed and eyes staring straight at Tony. Her eyes were still the same. They still sparkled like they always had, still looked at Tony with the same mix of fondness and clear exasperation. “The world really has been knocked off its axis, if you’re willingly heading to bed.”

Tony huffed a weak laugh. Sleep sounded good to him. Sleeping for a week and waking up with Steve still away on his mission sounded even better.

Standing from his chair, he hid a yawn in the inside of his elbow and headed for the door.

Just before he crossed the threshold, he turned and held out a hand. “Coming?”

 *

 “Tony?”

Tony rolled onto his side to see Steve standing at the edge of the bed, hovering a little anxiously. She was wearing an old sweatshirt of Tony’s, which hung down past her hips and was falling off one shoulder. For the first time in their relationship, it seemed as though Tony’s clothes would actually fit Steve. That thought alone made something squirm in Tony’s stomach, a spark suddenly lit that threatened to ignite into a raging fire.

“Hi,” he said stupidly, voice a little breathier than he’d have liked. “Coming in?”

“You’re on my side.”

Tony snorted. Right. Same old Steve. “Sorry.” He shuffled backwards until there was enough room for Steve to crawl under the sheets. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Steve’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, the spit glistening in the low glow from the beside lamp. “Just thinking about what to do next.”

Tony reached out and rested his hand across Steve’s eyes. “Sleep. Sleep is next.”

“We need to find out what–”

“We can do that tomorrow,” Tony said, words slurring a little as Steve playfully batted his hand away. Sleep was catching up to Tony, washing over him so easily with Steve back in their bed. It was just one more point in Steve’s favour; Tony felt so peaceful with her there, Steve’s mere presence enough to let Tony relax enough to sleep. “What we need to do now is sleep.”

There was a beat of silence. “You’re okay with me being in here?”

Tony forced himself to open his eyes again, battling to stay awake long enough to assemble his thoughts.

They were lying close in the bed, close enough to touch. When Steve rolled onto her side at the extended silence, Tony could feel her breath on his nose.

“I love you,” Tony said, the words rolling off his tongue as easily as they had on their wedding day. “I loved you in pictures from before the war. I’ve loved you as both Steve Rogers and Captain America, and I love you now. It’s you and me. No matter what.”

Steve smiled softly and they fell into a comfortable silence, Steve finally relaxing into the pillow. Just as Steve’s eyes closed and her breathing evened out, a thought struck Tony.

“Oh, God,” he said in horror, “I’m going to have to top again.”

***

(prompt from the Put on the Suit discord)

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Boxing

The beautiful, talented, amazing and wonderful @artsymeeshee​ has been going through a lot lately and I’ve been wanting to do something for her, so (since I can’t draw chibi Stans or think of a good fic that follows that theme XD ) I thought I would write this for her! Seriously, guys, she’s incredible in every way and deserves all the love in the world, so go give it to her!

I hope you like this fic, girl, and that you’re doing okay. - N.S.

~~~~~~~~~~

It all started back when the Pines family first arrived back at the Mystery Shack. Mabel was up in the storage room (It was much fuller than wise, but the attic was used as a bedroom at the moment.) and had dragged Dipper along with her to help find some old photographs. With only two weeks to work on her special birthday present for her grunkles, she needed all the help she could get in making them the perfect gift: a new scrapbook full of old photos of Glass Shard Beach and pictures Mabel had saved on her phone and was going to print of the old sailors out at sea.

Mabel had her hands on a box full of baby photos that she was totally going to use as blackmail. She squealed and then covered her mouth quickly so they wouldn’t get caught when she found a photo of two twin boys sitting in little sailor-suits on their parents’ bed. The one with six-fingers on his tiny fists didn’t look happy, but his brother was laughing and was proud of his new suit. Mabel tucked it into her folder to use for the scrapbook and checked another box. She opened it and was surprised to find news articles for boxing events and pictures of her uncles training. “Wow, Dipper, look.” Mabel said quietly and Dipper sat with her by the box. “Whoa, Stan was really good.” The boy commented as he picked up photographs of a bruised-looking, war-beaten, teenage-version of Stan had a fist up in the air in victory and a trophy in his grasp. Ford was by his side, enjoying stealing Stan’s gimmick of wrapping an arm around his neck and pointing at him as he beamed with pride. “Check out all these first places.” “Wonder where all his trophies…” But then Mabel stopped. There were boxes in this room labeled “trophies”, but all of those were Ford’s from science fairs and spelling bees, because this had originally been his house. Since Stan was kicked out and didn’t exactly have time or space for memorabilia, the trophies were long-gone, probably tossed out by Dipper and Mabel’s great-grandfather. Mabel’s blood boiled and her teeth clenched in a very un-Mabel way. “If I ever see Blendin again, I’m using his time-machine to go back in time and punch that jerk in the face.” She growled. “Yeah,” Dipper sighed and held out some good pictures of when both of the twins were boxing in elementary school. “But hey, these will look great in the new scrapbook.” He pointed out, trying to make his sister forget Filbrick. It worked; Mabel smiled and took some of the pictures. “These are great, thanks!” And she added them to the folder. “They look so cute! And they look like they might be having fun.” Dipper shrugged; to this day Stan still enjoys watching a match and he still gave awesome left and right-hooks. “So, do you need more pictures, or…?” “I think… I dunno, I was hoping to find one of them with Grandpa or Ma Pines. Do you think they’d want that?” Even after the scrapbook had been made and delivered, Mabel still thought back to Stan and Ford’s old boxing days. It was interesting and cool to her, so one afternoon she asked Stan to teach her some moves. She had never seen that old man look so happy. (Except when he announced that he was going to be sailing around the world with Ford.) He took her out to the backyard and taught her how to take a proper stance and how to give good hooks and how to dodge properly. Mabel found she liked the feeling of the gloves and the poses and moves came relatively quickly to her. By the time the sun was setting Stan was laughing and calling her a natural. About a week or so later, Stan left his newspaper on the table to help put out a small fire Ford had started due to an experiment gone bad, and Mabel saw an ad for boxing tryouts. There was a team right outside of Gravity Falls and the whole thing was over by the end of the summer, so Mabel could join if she wanted. When Stan came back and finished his newspaper, he put it in the newspaper bin (used to start campfires or for arts-n’-crafts) and Mabel swiped the article for the date, time, and location. Dipper woke up the next morning and found Mabel’s bed, as usual, empty. But then as Dipper was scrubbing his eyes he heard something weird outside. He looked out the window and stared to find Mabel in pink work-out shorts, a white t-shirt, and her hair up with a scrunchie as she punched a tree with boxing gloves. Dipper slipped on some shoes and his hat and vest and hurried outside. “Mabel, what are you doing?” He asked when he got behind her out in the crisp morning air. “Training for the boxing tryouts.” Mabel said as she worked, punching a tree so hard a branch fell off. Dipper smiled proudly and said, “I wanna help.” And so history repeated itself as Dipper hurried to the library after breakfast and found books on proper diet techniques and he looked up video-tutorials on great workout routines. He rode his bike besides Mabel and used her megaphone to cheer her on as she jogged down the dirt road. He wore a full on pillow-bodysuit so Mabel could punch something that moves and tries to punch back. Dipper even made her protein shakes with raw eggs and other stuff to help her keep her energy and he poured her Mabel Juice down the drain, earning him a raspberry courtesy of his twin. The kids were careful to keep it a secret, Mabel insisting she wanted to surprise Stan and Ford by coming back with a real boxing uniform and a declaration that she made the team. Dipper supported her one million percent and on the day of the tryouts, they hopped on a bus for the gym. Dipper walked with Mabel in her workout-gear, hands in his vest and a proud smile on his face. They walked into the correct room, the one with a big ring and some bleachers, and found Mr. Poolcheck’s cousin, Mr. Boxcoach. The cousins had the same tight-face, sharp jawline, and popping vein, and they were both equally scary, but Mr. Boxcoach’s legs weren’t skinny and perfect for swimming, rather bulky and perfect for boxing, and he had oily brown hair. He wore a blue-jacket over a white t-shirt and he had a whistle around his neck and a clipboard in hand. Boys from neighboring towns were there to try out, too, and more were approaching. Mabel and Dipper walked up to Mr. Boxcoach to properly introduce themselves and before any of them said a word, the scary man asked with his eyes down at his clipboard, “What’s your name, son?” “Oh, no,” Dipper shook his head and patted Mabel’s shoulder. “I’m not here to try out, but my sister is.” “Hi! I’m Mabel.” She said cheerfully, almost bouncing where she stood with excitement. Mr. Boxcoach finally looked at them and snorted. “Yeah, no. I’m not putting a girl on my team.” Mabel’s smile dropped. Dipper saw the devastated look on her face and he had to try extremely hard not to lose his temper. “Why not?” He asked. “Whaddya mean, why not, she’s a girl.” Mr. Boxcoach said like it was obvious and he tucked his clipboard under his arm. “I mean look at her, a butterfly clip in her hair and a bright-pink scrunchie. They’d eat her alive out there.” “So what if she takes good care of her hair and likes pink?” Dipper snapped. “Last I checked, that has nothing to do with how good she is. She’s really tough, just let her try, she’s got a great left-hook!” “Listen, kids, it’s anarchy out there…” “She can handle it!” “... there is no way I’m letting a girl on my team.” Mr. Boxcoach said firmly. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with a girl in my boxing ring.” Dipper narrowed his eyes, seeing red, his whole body shaking with rage. “You won’t even let her try out?” “Nope.” Dipper was ready to yell and make Mr. Boxcoach rue the day he underestimated Mabel Pines, but one glance at her told Dipper that she looked ready to go home, so he put an arm around her shoulders and walked her out the door. “Forget that jerk. Wanna stop by that new candy store in town? I think they have a new safer Smile-Dip.” He offered softly. Mabel shook her head and pulled her hair down, her scrunchie on her wrist. “I’d rather just go home.” “Okay, sure.” Dipper tried to smile comfortingly at her, but she wouldn't meet his eyes and Dipper could tell that she didn’t need smiles right now. ~~~~~~~~~~ Waddles was asleep under the card table while Ford and Stan played poker on the table. Ford slammed his cards down as his brother laughed maliciously and scooted the loot to his side of the table. “You cheated!” “Probably, wanna try to prove it, Wise Guy?” Stan dared. “Oh, you little…” The door opened and closed and the old men smiled to see the kids return, but they were unhinged to find Mabel in unusual attire and hurrying up the stairs with tears in her eyes. The bedroom door slammed shut and Waddles woke up and trotted up the stairs. “What’s wrong with Mabel?” Stan asked. Dipper sighed and collapsed in the armchair. “Mabel wants to be on the boxing team.” Ford and Stan exchanged proud and surprised looks, but they also remembered that their little girl was upset right now. “Did she not make the team?” Ford guessed sympathetically. “She didn’t even get to try out.” “Why not?” Stan pressed on when Dipper fell silent and didn’t look in a hurry to tell more of the story. He gave them both a careful look, like he was debating if it was worth telling them, but he eventually said, “Coach says he wouldn’t be caught dead with a girl in his ring.” “WHAT?!” Stan stood up quickly and looked just as mad as he did back when he discovered that Mable and Gideon were dating last summer. “And you were okay with that?!” “Stanley,” Ford scolded lightly, not enjoying the fact that he was assuming Dipper didn’t do anything about it. “No! I tried, but there was no changing his mind.” Dipper defended and crossed his arms over his chest. Stan marched across the room. Ford stood up and asked, “Where are you going?” “To be mad at somebody new!” “Uh, oh.” Dipper said as Stan angry beyond reason. When Mabel heard Waddles scratching at the door, she forced herself out of bed to let him in. He hopped up on the foot of the bed and let Mabel lie her head on him and cry on his soft pink body. She hugged him and cried her heart out, disappointed and feeling stupid for thinking she even had a shot at boxing like her hero. A soft knock came at the door and Mabel looked up to find Stan at the door. She quickly wiped her tears away and her face dry; she didn’t want him to see her cry and think she wasn’t tough anymore. “Hey, everything okay, pumpkin?” Mabel smiled weakly and nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay…” “C’mon, Mabel, you can’t lie to an old conman.” Stan said and sat by the head of her bed. “Plus Dipper told me what happened.” He added, unable to take all the credit on him just being that awesome and smart. Mabel’s eyes filled with tears and she shut her eyes to try to hide it. Stan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and rubbed. “Snitch.” Mabel mumbled, making Stan snort. “I wanted to surprise you, make you proud.” “Whoa, hey,” Stan halted. “First off, I’ll always be proud of you. Always. You’re my little fight, whether you’re on some stupid team or not. That’s sweet that you wanted to surprise me and rub it in my face that you’re way better at boxing than me, but you don’t have to hide anything from me.” Mabel hiccuped a laugh over his little joke and she wiped her tears on her arm, feeling much better. “Thanks, Grunkle Stan.” “No problem, sweetie.” He looked her dead in the eye and asked, “Do you really wanna box?” Mabel wasn’t sure if he was asking because he wanted to make sure she didn’t want to box only to make him proud, or he was about to do something stupid. Either way, she wanted to be honest. She nodded and gave that Pines-gleam in her eye, the one that promised trouble and was fed off of determination, pride, and hard-work. “Yeah, I do. But the coach…” “I don’t care, get your gloves and let’s go.” Stan motioned a hand for her to follow and she did as she was told, following her great-uncle out of the room and eventually out of the house. ~~~~~~~~~~ Luckily the tryouts were only half done when Stan had Mabel’s hand and was walking her back inside the room. Her soft brown eyes found the scary Mr. Boxcoach and her hand tightened around Stan’s. “That’s him.” “I got this.” Stan muttered back. “OY! Veins! You and I need to talk!” Mr. Boxcoach had to whistle a match to stop and he turned to the new arrivals that stood outside his ring. Stan climbed up swiftly and had his hands on his hips, a suave, strong man in a suit looking deadly with cold brown eyes and tight fists just right for throwing a good punch. The atmosphere got ten degrees colder as Mr. Boxcoach realized he had talked badly about Stanley Pines’s girl. “Yes, sir?” He asked casually. “You tell my grandniece she can’t box?!” “Oh, well I was only looking after her…” “Well she doesn’t need you to look after her! She can look after herself and do a better job at it than most grown-ups!” Mabel, meanwhile, was turning pink with pride. “And you’re gonna give her the same chance you would give any other boy!” “Or what?” Mr. Boxcoach snarled. “Or we’re gonna have problems.” Stan growled and even Mabel felt a shiver go down her spine. Despite being the same size, Mr. Boxcoach looked significantly smaller than Stan. Mr. Boxcoach swallowed and then huffed, “Fine. Kid, you’re next. You’ll go against Drake.” “What?!” The pale sandy-haired kid with freckles yelled. He was one of the two already in the ring. “I’m not boxing with a girl!” “Why not, your friend is.” Mabel snapped. Stan swelled with pride and the other boy, a dark-skinned boy with brown curls, “oh”ed with a smile and said he’d fight her. Stan patted her back and said, “I’ll be in the bleachers. Kick their butts.” ~~~~~~~~~~ Ford and Dipper were watching the Used To Be About History Channel when Stan and Mabel came back home with huge smiles on their faces. “Guess who’ll be in boxing matches this summer?” “Mabel, that’s wonderful!” Ford cheered and gave her a hug when she hopped up on his lap in the armchair. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you.” “Me, too.” And Dipper ruffled her hair from the dino-skull end table. “I knew you’d make the team!” “And I got a date!” Mabel added joyfully and punched the air in victory. “You did?” Ford asked, bewildered how boxing could lead to romance. He looked at his brother for clarification. “She did?” “It was a productive afternoon.” Stan simply said as he hung his suit jacket up. ~~~~~~~~~~ Mabel climbed up into the ring, her hair up in her pink scrunchie and her little butterfly pinning back her hair so she could see her opponent. She wore red and the enemy wore yellow, like gold without the sparkle. She narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth, taking her stance. The big, nasty boy with crooked teeth snarled at her, ready to take her apart, free to dominate and humiliate a girl, but that wasn’t going to happen. Just before the bell rang, Mabel glanced over to the bleachers and saw her boys screaming and cheering her on. They had painted their faces red with a white stripe down the center and Stan wore his red Hawaiian shirt, Ford his turtleneck solo, and Dipper held a sign that read “GO MABEL GO!” in big red letters with stars all over it and tons of glitter. He cleared his throat mid-shout and coughed up glitter, proof that he had made the sign himself. Mabel grinned and focused on the scummy teenager in front of her. The bell rang.

[lucky-bucky-boy]

Mistletoe

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter put off introducing you to the team for a long time, but Tony insists the holiday party at the compound is the perfect way for the team to meet the only best friend they haven’t yet.

Word Count: 2385

Warnings: Christmas themed, more fluff

Tags: @lokilvrr

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my fics anywhere without my written permission.

"If you ask me one more time if I'm sure I want to go, I promise I will rip my hair out and you'll have to deal with looking at me bald every day," you huffed out a laugh with only a slight playful annoyance tinging the words as you spoke. Delicate application of mascara, mouth parted ever so slightly to give the steady hand needed to not mess up the extravagant glittery eyeshadow that you'd never admit took three tutorials, four tries, and over an hour to do properly.

"O-okay," Peter's anxious voice flowed through your phone perched on the edge of your vanity. "I'll be there in 15, Mr.Stark had Happy pick me up. Bye, (Y/N/N)."

One final layer of ruby red lipstick to compliment the dress that MJ had helped you select; a beautiful a-line knee length dress, intricate lace dancing across the chest and flowing down each arm, stopping just before your wrists, all in a rich christmasy red. Fixing a small golden necklace around your neck to match the gold of the friendship bracelet Peter had given you, MJ and Ned before everyone went off to college, you slipped on a pair of gold glittery flats to complete the look.

As if on queue there was a small series of knocks against your bedroom door. Grabbing the small black clutch you'd thrown a few things in, you opened the door, smiling at Peter before taking in his appearance.

Being an Avenger had done him well, a new sense of maturity vibrating in his aura. His loose curls had been groomed and shaped up, no doubt a request from Tony for this party. His shoulders more broad, a hint of stubble prickling his chin and jaw, all complemented by the sleek black tux, with a bright red tie that just happened to match your dress perfectly. Michelle's doing no doubt.

"O- uh - you look- you look beautiful," Peter stumbled over the words as he tried his damndest to not stare at any one part too long. There was a faint blush on his pale skin. "Are you ready?" He asked, "Mr.Stark isn't happy that you're my only friend he hasn't met."

A soft giggle played at your lips as you turned your lights off and shit your door, "Sure am, Parker."

*

"Holy shit, there's even little sodas in here - PETER YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THEY'RE TINY," a small squeal left your lips as you pulled out one of the tiny cans from the cooler in the limo, Happy sending Peter and amused look through the rear view mirror.

Peter chuckled softly, "I tried telling Mr.Stark we didn't need the limo but he insisted."

"Okay, but seriously, if Tony wasn't already married I'd be chasing after that if it meant I got things like this every day," there was an obvious joking tone to your words but it still stung Peter deep in the gut. Happy sent Peter another look when he caught that hurt puppy look on Peter's face, which he responded with by closing the partition.

You pouted at Peter, "Hey, that was mean," you scolded softly.

"He kept wiggling his eyebrows at me it was weird," Peter whined in defense, causing a string of laughter to fall from you.

"Where's the party at?" You asked, settling back into the seat next to Peter, pressing the small can of soda to your lips, the warm, dim light casting a fairytale like glow over you and Peter was damn sure Tony had changed the lights.

"It's at the compound," Peter answered, pulling his phone out to check the time, anything to keep from looking at you too long. "Mr.Stark said he wanted something more intimate this year. It's a few of his friends, everyone had a plus one, I originally wasn't going to go but he wanted to meet you and thought this would be a good time to do so."

"Ooh wait, so I also get to meet the team?" You asked, feeling the car pull into what you could only assume was the compound.

Peter nodded as Happy opened the door and Peter grabbed your clutch before getting out, holding his hand out to help you. A chorus of thank you's and nice to meet you's flowed between the group before Peter steered your attention to the pristinely white building that was brightly lit. Hundreds of thousands of little crystal lights strung on every ledge, every tree, every bush and branch available. Little white deer silhouettes lined the walkway and it truly looked like a winter wonderland thanks to the dusting of snow still stuck from that morning.

The bustling party could be heard even outside, laughter, chatter, and music vibrating the architecture. Peter opened the door for you, the sounds doubling in volume as you stepped into what felt like a scene out of a Hallmark movie. Intricate decorations and lace, ribbon, and likes strewn across the ceilings, railing and archways. A pop-up bar and serving table off to the side, the home to extravagant drinks and foods you had only ever dreamed of getting the chance to taste. The intimate lighting doubled with the warmth that the endless Christmas music sent through you made your heartbeat a little faster when you remember who you came here with.

Peter's arm wrapped around your waist, leading you towards the back of the room that sat huge round tables. At the center table sat a few of the team members; Natasha with her feet propped up on Sam's lap, Sam who was bickering with Bucky over what sounded like an argument over the best something and poor Steve stuck in the middle of his two friends squabbling.

Peter cleared his throat to get their attention, all eyes turning to him and then immediately falling in you. An anxious, almost embarrassed kind of warmth spread through you as they all analyzed you, Bucky breaking into a huge grin. "Hey Peter, is this the dame you haven't shut up about?"

Sam sighed exasperatedly, "Barnes, for the last time, we don't call girls dames anymore."

"I think it's rather endearing," Nat added, eyes never leaving you, watching as you looked up at Peter with a small look of shock on your face, lips slightly parted. Bucky had undoubtedly caught you off guard with the confession, and Peter was blushing even darker than earlier.

"Peter Benjamin Parker," you said, voice in a heightened, almost comical tone of disbelief, "Are you talking about me again? Do I need to bring out the pictures from summer camp?"

His eyes went as big as saucers, "No no no no, they asked about my friends and I told then about you that's all," his words were rushed, quick to speak in hopes of deterring your threat.

"Sure, if you call gu- ouch, why'd you hit me," Bucky grumbled towards Steve who was sending him a warning look and suddenly everyone at the table caught on. You knew nothing.

Peter watched as your mouth opened to speak but quickly cut you off when he heard Tony talking from the upstairs balcony. His gaze moved upwards, seeing a much less crowded, but still just as decorated area and he grabbed your hand, leading you to the steps. "C'mon. Let's go see Mr.Stark."

Tony was talking to a business friend, a young girl who you could only assume was his daughter hugging tightly to his leg with one arm and a feeding herself a cookie with another. Her eyes moved from the man in front of her to Peter and you and she gasped, dropping the cookie and running over to Peter, who knelt down in preparation to hug her.

She flung her small body into Peter's chest who hugged her and stood, moving to hold her on his hip. "Peter!!!!!! Why'd did you leave? Daddy's being boring. I wanna play with the bobots- Peter who's this she's pretty - and OUR DRESSES MATCH!"

She squealed, causing Peter to laugh softly.

You looked down at yourself and then over at her, taking in the details of her dress and realizing she was wearing a smaller version of your dress. You giggled softly, watching as Peter sat her down so she could twirl to show it off. You knelt down to be eye level with her, "Well, that just means we both have good tastes because we both look very pretty, don't we?" You asked her.

She nodded her head furiously. "Yes! Daddy wanted me to wear gold but I liked this one better. I'm Morgan."

"Hi, Morgan. My name is (Y/N), I'm Peter's friend. We've been friends since we you as little as you."

She gasped softly, "Does that mean you know how to prank him? He never falls for my pranks," she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted some, only causing you to laugh more.

"Of course I know how to prank him," you looked up at Peter to realize that both Tony and him were watching the two of you, the other man from earlier gone. After giving Morgan a small smile you stood, reaching out to shake Tony's hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr.Stark." You beamed a bright smile at him, causing Tony to smirk softly and send Peter a look of approval.

"The pleasure is all mine, sweetheart. And please, call me Tony. I'm surprised you haven't freaked out yet, Peter's mentioned a few times that you're a big fan of - well everyone." He said, hand motioning to wave in the direction of where the team was.

You nodded, feeling Peter move back to your side and seeing Morgan find her place at Tony's leg again. "I'm a huge fan, and it is taking everything not to freak. But what kind of first impression would that be," you joked softly.

Tony chuckled, picking Morgan up. "Very true. I'll leave you two to enjoy to party. I think I need to get this stinker another cookie before mommy comes and yells at me." Morgan cheered as Tony moved to take her back downstairs, leaving Peter and you alone.

Leaning over the balcony you used the height to your advantage, observing the party and every one of its inhabitants. Watched people dance, drink too much champagne, kiss and coo at one another. It was almost surreal, the wealth, the confidence, the comfort of the bubbling atmosphere. The feeling of someone watching you pulled you from your thoughts, turning to look at Peter who was watching you intently.

"What is it?" You asked, almost amused, "something wrong with my makeup?"

Peter shook his head, hands fidgeting with the end of his jacket, eyes darting around anxiously before looking back at you. "N-no, actually. The complete opposite. I can't get over how beautiful you look tonight." He bit his lip, and when your eyebrow crooked upwards and a small smirk toyed at your lips he got worried, more anxious than before, "Not that you don't always look beautiful but you just look especially beautiful tonight."

The smile and light laugh that left your tempting lips made him feel he was baptized in cold water, drowning him and filling him with life all at once. "You overthink everything, Peter," intertwining your fingers with his, you pulled him towards the steps. "I want a drink and I want you to show me around."

A glass of champagne and too many horderves later, you found yourselves in the compounds kitchen searching for refuge from the stimulation of the party. The two of you sat on the kitchen island, reminiscing and laughing, catching up for the first time in what felt like an eternity since the start of the semester.

"So, this is pretty much where you live now? No more loud Queens streets to lull you to sleep at night?"

Peter shrugged, pulling off his suit jacket and moving to roll the cuffs of his button down shirt up. "Well, I kinda bounce between here and Aunt May's. Mr. Stark has me taking classes online so I can still work with him and not over do myse-"

A loud gasp pulled your attention to the doorway, Morgan was standing there, holding Tony's hand and pointing at the two of you. "Daddy! Look! They're under the mistletoe!"

Tony chuckled softly, "They sure are kiddo, and what does that mean?"

"They have to kiss!" She exclaimed.

Looking up you saw the bundle of green and read tied around the light fixture and couldn't help but shake your head and laugh in disbelief. "If I didn't know any better I'd believe everyone was in on something," you said and watch as Tony held his hands up in defense and backed out of the kitchen with Morgan in tow.

"Y-yeah," Peter swallowed loudly, causing you to look over at him. "We- we don't actually have to kiss if you don't want to." His voice was soft and nothing more than a mumble and he fiddled with the rolled up sleeves.

"What makes you think I don't want to kiss you, Pete?" You asked, smiling softly, a sudden wave of anxiety wiping over you. "Do you think I'd try this hard for anyone else?" You motioned to yourself.

"You could have come in sweatpants and a tank top and I still would've thought you looked amazing." Warmth spread across you, slightly embarrassed and unsure of what to say, "...Can I kiss you?" He asked.

A timid nod was enough of an answer as he moved to cup you cheeks with his hands, thumbs rubbing over the apples of your cheeks as he took a moment to admire every detail of your face. "I've loved you since we were kids," he admitted before pressing his lips to yours, slow and almost unsure.

The moment he felt your hands on his chest, tugging at his shirt to pull him closer, his actions had more confidence, lips soft and speaking a language you didn't know you knew, filling a void you didn't know you had. You pulled back a little, both of you smiling big and giddy.

"Merry Christmas to me," he mumbled.

"Merry Christmas to us." You corrected, pressing another small kiss to his lips. "And I love you too."

[stoppit-keepout]

when nobody is listening

Kissing prompt 8. Laying a gentle kiss to the back of the other’s hand. (I realise most of the prompts are v romantic, but I listened to some Mountain Goats and couldn’t stop myself from writing sad things, oops. Title from Long Neck’s Rosy)

Heads-up: this is about Nile Freeman’s family dealing with death--hers and her father’s.

Tony has a few memories of Dad’s funeral. They have hard edges, and they shine through tears, crystalline.

Auntie Kai singing Amazing Grace, a red flower on her black dress. Mom pressing a kiss to his praying hands. “Come here,” collecting him roughly into her arms with Nile, God, Nile.

He’s not going to remember Nile’s funeral. He’s not going to go.

He tells Mom while she’s making a salad to go with dinner on Thursday. Auntie Kai dropped off lasagna and tried to stay, but Mom wasn’t ready to see her, see anyone yet, so it’s just the two of them.

“What do you mean ‘I can’t go,’ you got plans?” The retort comes fast, before she’s looked at him.

Mom’s always on the move--ADD, Nile calls it, though who knows for sure--and it’s only gotten worse since they got the news. Since Tuesday.

There’s a lot to do, she says when Tony asks if she wants breakfast, and she can see the TV from where I’m ironing, thanks, baby, you just watch your show, and she’s just going to call Father Willem to make sure everything’s set, but she’ll go to bed soon, she promises.

“I can’t,” he says. His grief presses a greedy hand across his throat, strangles the rest of what he’d wanted to say.

Mom knocks over the salad dressing. The plastic thunks when it hits the counter. “Baby,” she says, and she’s there.

Tony pushes his face into her shoulder, and her hands push against the back of his head too, hiding his twisting sobs in her at-home sweater. “I can’t, Mom, she’s gotta come back,” the words lurching out around his crying.

“Shh,” Mom says, and holds him tighter. “I’ve got you.” Her voice trembles so hard that it shakes the bones in Tony’s legs, and they’re folding, Mom slowing his fall, but both going down together.

“Who’s gonna keep me out of trouble now?” Tony doesn’t know if anyone but Mom would be able to understand the words, they’re so clawed-up from tears; he doesn’t know if they really make sense, but it was what they always said. Mom and Nile, keeping their boys out of trouble, but Dad’s dead, and then Nile enlisted, and now, and now--

Mom’s crying just as hard as Tony, now, but he can still hear her say, “She’s still watching out for you, baby, she always will.”

The lasagna doesn’t taste like anything, but at least the lid was on the salad dressing when it fell. Nothing spills.

Tony goes to the funeral and stares so hard at that stupid flag that it shows up, inverted, when he blinks.

-

Tony’s heart churns in pain that whole first month. It’s somehow even worse than when Dad died, because at least then, he and Nile had been a team. Mom took care of them, and they’d make sure she didn’t stay up alone. Nile always made their cousins take Tony, too, when they go out for bike rides, always let him tag along and play his music. Tony made sure that when Nile got mad, she didn’t get mad alone.

Mom’s not mad now. The closest she gets is when Tony gets detention for getting in a fight with some guy trying to get him to join JROTC--she descends upon his principal like an ice storm, and Tony doesn’t get a mark on his permanent record from the incident.

But mostly she’s sad, and Tony’s sad, and it’s new enough that he doesn’t have a clue what to do.

His friends start coming over to hang out. The Sunday after the funeral, they just show up, and from that point on it seems like someone’s always around--he can’t complain about it. They teach Mom to play Breath of the Wild on Jalen’s Switch, and they pull a jagged laugh from him when Mom tries to catch the giant horse.

When Auntie Kai finds out that Mom’s letting Tony’s friends come over and play video games, she practically moves in. “Let me take care of you,” Tony overhears her telling Mom one night, and the echo of Nile hits him so hard that he has to sit down right there in the hall.

Auntie Kai’s able to be around all the time because work is giving her some paid time off--something about a bunch of vacation days she needed to spend, though she also told Mom the days definitely hadn’t been there in December when she’d wanted time for Christmas. Tony’s dimly grateful for whatever glitch had hidden the vacation from her then, though, because it means now she’s here, and she can help.

They spend a lot of time in the kitchen, even though food still doesn’t taste right. Tony sleeps in Nile’s room sometimes and tries to tell himself she’s still there looking over him, like Dad.

It doesn’t get easier that Nile’s gone, but it gets easier for Tony to still be around.

-

He gets into U Chicago. He gets into a few other schools, too, and has a couple rejections he didn’t care to read, but he gets into U Chicago.

“You deserve it, you worked so hard,” Mom says. He picks her up off her feet in a hug, and she laughs, loud.

“Thanks for making me work,” he says. “And thanks for fixing my application essays.”

“Oh, for--” She’s grinning as she slaps at his arm, and he puts her down. “How many times do I have to tell you, I didn’t do that!”

Tony rolls his eyes, but he’s sure he’s still grinning like a fool. “Sure, Mom.”

“You need to give yourself credit, you earned every bit of this.”

Sure, he did, but he knows he’s never totally perfected the right ‘their/there/they’re/whatever,’ no matter how many times Nile had tried to explain it. He also has some proof that Mom went and fixed things even after she gave him her approval for his submission--when he’d checked the system the day after he’d uploaded his application, the PDF didn’t look quite the same as the one he had on his computer.

Mom probably doesn’t want to bring down the moment with reminders of what they’ve lost, so he doesn’t bust her for it just yet.

She’s his mom, though, so she sees the bite in his smile even without him saying anything. “They’re so proud of you,” she says, and gives him another hug. “I just know it.”

-

In a weird twist, one of Nile’s old friends is the TA for Tony’s object-oriented programming class. He hadn’t recognised her name on the syllabus, but when she walks into the tutorial saying, “Okay, students of MPCS 51410-B, please correct your syllabi because you are now in Sandra’s section,” her face and voice shove him abruptly back in time.

He’s eight and he’s threatening to tell on her and Nile for cutting gum out of Nile’s hair, he’s ten and he’s trying to convince Nile to let him watch horror movies with them, he’s twelve and got roped into taking pictures of her and Nile posing in Hallowe’en costumes.

She looks shaken when she sees him, then shakes it off.

He doesn’t know how to bring it up, but he goes to her office hours in the second week of class anyway. Before he goes in, he doesn’t really want to talk about Nile. He doesn’t want to cry, he doesn’t want to have to lie that it’s okay, he doesn’t want to listen while someone talks about Nile the way people talk about Dad. Like she’s gone. Like she’s over.

He goes in anyway.

“Tony,” Sandra says, and she’s not crying yet at least. “I’m so sorry.”

It ends up not being too bad. They talk about Java for a bit, because there’s an assignment coming up next week, and Sandra mentions she just got a grant to work on something about databases that Tony doesn’t totally follow yet (but he will).

He comes back a few more times. It eventually ends up being nice to trade stories back and forth with someone who knew Nile, and Nile’s drive, her sharp wit, her big heart. Tony learns again that Sandra and Nile had met on the first day of kindergarten, and that Nile had screamed when the teacher had tried to partner them up with different people in the second week of school.

“She always said she just knew, with me,” Sandra says like a badge of honour.

“She was like that,” Tony says. It settles, a small betrayal, in his ribs. She’s still like that, he silently, irrationally papers over.

--

“You coming today?” Mom asks. She’s already dressed for church, but she’s sitting half-on the chair in front of the computer, distractedly typing something into a comment box on Facebook. “I’m leaving in a minute, just have to do...” She trails off, her typing picking up tempo.

Tony doesn’t bother responding out loud, just ducks back to his room to change his shirt and goes to wait by the door for Mom to finish up.

“Okay, okay, we’re already late,” she says, grabbing her purse and rifling through it for her keys. “Is your sister already in the car?”

The words pounce on them both. Stillness, then explosive motion as Mom flinches, as she drops her purse and her little tin of breath mints bursts and scatters.

“Mom,” Tony says, and she’s already on her knees, gathering up her things. His knees thud on the floor, following to help.

“I’m sorry, it’s just--”

“I know,” he says, and he repeats it because Mom wasn’t looking the first time. “Mom, I know.”

“I didn’t forget,” Mom says, hands finally still, eyes meeting Tony’s. “I could never.”

“But it’s like she’s still here, right?” Mom blurs and glows in the tears filling Tony’s vision. “You feel it, too.”

That’s what tips Mom over into crying, too.

They’re late for church, but they still go.

Peace be with you, murmuring around them, and Mom holds his face in her hands and makes him bend so she can kiss him on the forehead, like she always does.

Communion, and prayer. Please protect Mom, and bless the whole family, and let me get through finals okay. Tony prays the way he’s been praying for almost a year now: to God, and to Nile.

Mom’s kneeling beside him, her shoulder against his, and he crosses himself when his thoughts have smoothed out. Mom catches his hand in a tight grip as he’s lowering it; they hold on to each other.

[softdadcarlos]

Reunion 2: The Inbetween

Masterlist

Fandom: Resident Evil/Biohazard

Pairing: Jill/Carlos

AU: Family Life

Summary: Set after Chris tells Carlos and before Jill’s return, we see how Carlos struggles as a single father while dealing with his grief. 

Carlos rested his head against the door after he showed Chris out, letting loose a long shaky breath. She was gone. She wouldn’t be coming back. At least not anytime soon because Carlos refused to accept she was dead until he saw a body. And they did not have one. So, for the sake of their baby girl, he couldn’t doubt her will to live and drive to come back home. A part of him blamed himself, he let her go on that mission to find that fucking Spencer guy. He let her go and lost her for it. After a blissful two years of just them and their daughter, he lost her. A larger part of him blamed the B.S.A.A for sending out teams of two because of course with such tiny squads someone was going to go to an extreme to save their teammate. He didn’t blame Chris at all, just by looking at the man Carlos could see the guilt weighing him down.

He pushed himself away from the door and made his way up to Eliza’s room. He had placed her in her playpen there with large soft toys after inviting Chris in. She might have only been two but she was smart enough to understand what is being said around her. Hell, she was starting to string together sentences in three different languages. He slowly pushed open the door, not making a sound, and stood there watching her as she played. For now, she was all he had of Jill other than pictures, clothes, an empty side of the bed and a lifeless office. He watched as she brushed the hair out of her doll’s face.

“Mucho mejor (much better)! You pwetty dolly.”

How was he meant to tell her that Mama wouldn’t be coming back? That it’d just be her and Papa for a while until Uncle Chris finds her? He covered his face with one hand and took a deep breath. He had to be strong for her. He can save his tears once he put her to sleep. Jesus Christ he knew he wouldn’t be getting any sleep for god knows how long.

Eliza must have heard him as she whipped around to face him, “Papa! Where Unc’ Cwis and Mama?”

Carlos swallowed the lump in his throat, he needed to think fast. Looking around her room for inspiration, he spotted her chibi moon bedsheets. That’s it!

Carlos lifted her out of the pen and bounced her slightly like he used to do to soothe her when she was a newborn, “Remember when Usagi got captured by Prince Demande and Tuxedo mask and the sailor scouts had to save her?” Eliza nodded, her thumb in her mouth, “Well when Mama and Uncle Chris were on a mission, Mama got taken by a bad man when she was trying to save Uncle Chris from them. So now Uncle Chris is going to find and rescue her.”

Eliza dropped her thumb with a gasp, “Mama got captured! No no! Es no bueno!”

He felt powerless as Eliza’s bottom lip quivered, fat tears rolling down her chubby freckled cheeks. He tried his best to wipe her tears away one-handed before giving up and just cradling her against him, letting her cry.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first couple of months were hard. It was difficult to get used to Jill not being there. He was at a loss at what to do. Especially when Barry informed him that the B.S.A.A were holding a funeral for Jill. They didn’t even have her body and they were already putting her name six-feet in the dirt. It made him feel sick. He refused to go. Instead, Barry, Rebecca, Claire, Leon and Sherry came over offering their support and understanding. Carlos was very much thankful for that. He was thankful that at least they didn’t act like she was already dead. Sherry volunteered to help him around the house and with Eliza but he rejected the idea. He and Eliza didn’t need a replacement, they would make do until their family was whole again.

One thing he had taken to from the very first night was talking to a picture of Jill, the only one that was just of her. She was never fond of having her picture taken, especially alone. He would just talk about how he felt, how much he missed her, what he did that day and how Eliza was doing. Which led to him having the brainwave of writing a diary that recorded Eliza day by day so Jill wouldn’t have missed a thing. He could already feel her guilt over missing Eliza’s little moments in his soul.

Jill’s birthday came and went and Carlos’ heart ached for it. It ached for their daughter who placed an illegible handmade birthday card by their wedding picture, as if her mother would magically appear like Santa Claus on Christmas day. That night he put her to sleep on Jill’s side before heading downstairs to let the other former S.T.A.R.S members and their friends in. They all shared a drink in her memory while sharing stories about her, just to feel close to her. This gave him another idea. He didn’t want Jill to fade from Eliza’s memory while she was gone. So that night he decided that he would tell her stories of Jill every night and show her pictures from the family photo album during the day.

Their first Christmas without her hurt. And with Eliza’s arising mischievousness, he was hopeless at hiding presents from her. He couldn’t help but think that if Jill was there, she would’ve known where to hide the presents from their daughter’s prying eyes. But he was thankful that it wasn’t just him and Eliza. Thankful that Barry came over with his family baring gifts and a Santa costume. Then Claire and Leon with decorations and desserts as well as an announcement that Eliza would have a ‘cousin’ soon. Carlos felt a pang in his chest. Jill would’ve loved to have been there to hear it, to congratulate them as they had her. It was loud and joyous like Christmas with family should be, but Carlos couldn’t shake the emptiness he felt.

When his birthday came, he found he missed the smell of burnt toast as Jill would try and fail to make him some form of breakfast. He missed walking into the kitchen and hugging her from behind as he teased her mercilessly. He missed her stoney mask and watching it crumble into that radiant smile reserved only for him and later Eliza too. His only solace was the sleeping child starfishing and snoring loud enough to wake someone from a coma. He smiled down at her, biting his lip to hold back tears so that she wouldn’t see them if he accidentally woke her. He noticed her hair had grown so much in the last six months and her third birthday was fast approaching. He hoped that Chris would find Jill before then.

It was their wedding anniversary before he knew it. And as much as he hated to be apart from Eliza, he let Barry take her for the day. He needed this day to grieve without being interrupted. To let himself wade through the pool of sorrow in his heart and try to drown it with expensive wine he had saved for this day to share with Jill. What would she think if she walked through the door and saw him in that state? His hair in desperate need of a cut, his beard scruffy and overgrown. Would she tenderly trace the discoloured skin under his eyes and kiss him better? He wished. He wished she was there so he could give her the gift he still bought with the tiny sliver of hope that she’d be back by now.

Leading up to Eliza’s birthday Carlos watched lots of video tutorials on a new-ish website called Youtube. Learning how to style hair because someone in this family had to know how to do their daughter’s hair and in the time he was with Jill, he never witnessed her styling her own hair. He didn’t want Eliza to be upset on her day, so on the morning of her third birthday, Carlos woke her to breakfast in bed - pancakes. And once she had scoffed them all down, he sat her on his lap, combing through her hair and making quick work to put it up in a plaited bun. He helped her to pick an outfit to wear for the day, choosing khaki shorts and a Saint Seiya tshirt. ‘Granpa’ Barry, as Eliza had taken to calling him, came over with a gift but couldn’t stay long. Claire came over with Sherry, she was heavily pregnant and let Eliza feel the baby kick. She said Leon couldn’t be there because he got sent out on a mission but he was on his way back. Carlos felt an ounce of jealousy that Claire knew her partner was safe and sound then immediately felt bad for it. While Sherry and Claire kept Eliza’s attention in the living room, Carlos went into the kitchen to bake the birthday cake.

Far too soon it was a year since Jill’s disappearance. Chris tried to send him monthly updates on his progress in trying to find her but sometimes he couldn’t. Sometimes he just had nothing to report. This was one of those times.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N:  I love hearing from you guys! Please tell me what parts you liked!

Requests are temporarily closed :)  I'm also on twitter @mxbelmounte. If you like what I write please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi (no pressure though I’m well aware there’s a pandemic going on)

[argentdandelion]

Make Ralsei Say Heck No (Part 2)

As specified in Part 1, it’s quite odd Ralsei is so cooperative, submissive, and eager to help Lightners even when not explicitly asked to do so. He practically can’t say no, even to absurd or outrageous demands.1 Even to Susie, it takes a while for him to become the slightest bit assertive, visibly frustrated with her, or otherwise non-apologetic and submissive.

Why is this so?

Option 1: Lack of a Choice

Ralsei may believe he has no choice but to be a Delta Warrior, so he must act as hero-like as he can. He apparently thinks hero-like behavior is cooperative, polite, and peaceful, at least relative to Susie’s aggression.

To Kris, he says:

“As heroes we have the power to make a peaceful future. So from now on let's try to avoid FIGHTing OK?”

Later, after listing three instances of Susie’s aggression and how bad it was, he tells Susie:

“Susie...Whether you like it or not...You're a hero. One with the power to bring peace to the future. Could you please start... acting like one?”

Furthermore, he strongly believes getting by without fighting will ensure a happy ending to their tale, and if not, the result will not be “favorable”. Ralsei therefore might think he must be the best hero possible to ensure the best ending, or perhaps to ensure a happy ending to the tale at all.

Counterpoints

As much as he talks about non-violence, he does goes along with Kris’s orders, even if it’s to beat up people not even affiliated with the Spade King’s armies. Regardless of whether he beats people up, he remains polite and cooperative.

Option 2: Delta Warrior at All Costs

It’s also possible Ralsei believes he does have a choice to be one of the Delta Warriors, as a “prince from the dark”. He believes serving Lightners is the only way for Darkners to feel truly fulfilled, and Seam and the Spade King corroborated part of Ralsei’s claim. Ergo, being one of the Delta Warriors would not only let him assist Lightners, but be able to interact with two of them a lot, and so feel very fulfilled.

However, Ralsei isn’t the only “prince from the dark”: there’s also Lancer. (If he didn’t know that at the beginning, he surely learns it early on in the journey.) More specifically, as Lancer has actual subjects, he has a greater claim to the position. If Ralsei makes himself a valuable, pleasing party member, Kris and Susie won’t go searching for other princes from the dark.

The interpretation is suggested in the following dialogue:

Lancer: Just walking along with you guys...Feels nice. Like I'm doing something... important. Ralsei: That's because you're alongside the Lightners, Lancer. Our purpose—Darkners' purpose—is to assist them. It's the only way we can feel truly fulfilled.”

Strangely, Ralsei doesn’t exactly look happy when he says “It’s the only way we can feel truly fulfilled”, suggesting his desire is deeper than just wanting a fun adventure.

Option 3: Friend Desperation

Overlapping with Option 2, Ralsei may be so desperate to be friends with Kris and Susie that he doesn’t have any boundaries or social standards. In fact, he says: “I've been waiting alone here...um...my whole life for you two to arrive. So...I'm really happy to meet you.”

Though Ralsei would logically be friends with the other Delta Warriors, his sheer conflict avoidance suggests he thinks he has no other options. It might be something like “country niceness”: when a countryside kid has only ten playmate options, alienating any of them is a big loss, necessitating extra-polite behavior. Most of the time, he acts as helpful as he can, deferring to Kris’s judgement. If “...” is selected when he talks to Kris before exiting through the great door, Ralsei says: “Kris in the end what you choose is up to you. As long as you're happy with it I'm happy too.”

Furthermore, he obeys even strange commands, such as Kris telling him to “offer his services” to Lancer and Susie during a fight with them. (he offers to braid hair) Most worryingly, in the first Lancer encounter, Ralsei even says he’ll “protect the heroes with my life!”. 2

Oddly, Ralsei is helpful even when his teammates are mean to him or go against his beliefs. Although Susie is consistently aggressive, uncooperative, insulting and otherwise rude, Kris, too, can be mean to Ralsei. (dropping the manual, attacking the dummy repeatedly, making Ralsei eat the stump salsa) Though Ralsei points out multiple times that “FIGHTing is unnecessary in this world” and he believes it will give an unfavorable ending, he nonetheless obeys Kris when told to FIGHT, and even equips the Ragged Scarf, which improves his fighting ability.

He might act strange to Kris and Susie not only because they’re his only (even first) friends, but also “cool kids” he puts on a pedestal. After all, Kris and Susie aren’t simply two people his age who arrived in the kingdom, but two Lightners, worshipped like gods, who he believes are the prophecized “heroes of light”. This contrasts with his blunter behavior to Lancer. After he attacks with two Hathies, Lancer asks how much money he gets after the battle, and Ralsei says he doesn’t get any because he lost. He also acts unusually blunt when pointing out Lancer hasn’t made the thrash machine yet: although he’s talking about something both Lancer and Susie were working on, he was addressing Lancer.3 One of the few times Ralsei is gets angry is when Lancer taunts Ralsei on the swear-word name of their team, as he tells Lancer: "OK, fine! We can keep the name! I just won't say it." However, there’s also a time he was clearly, loudly angry at Susie: on the third post-designed machine encounter, (see video) Ralsei says: "Fine!!! We don't want to be bad guys!!!" (with three exclamation marks, even)

Counterpoints

Although Lancer is not one the “cool kids” (if that’s synonymous with Lightners), Ralsei’s different behavior towards him might not have anything to do with him being a Darkner, less cool, or less suitable for friendship. Ralsei might act differently to Lancer because he’s an obstacle to their goals, annoys them, or mocks them. Rouxls Kaard himself describes Lancer as “more annoying than a fistful of fleas!” and a “strange and irritating darling”.

Option 4: Crush on Kris

Ralsei might be so obedient and eager to please because he has a crush on Kris. According to Kidshealth, people might feel shy, giddy, or both around a crush. Concerning giddiness, he believes Darkners can only feel true fulfilment by serving Lightners, and he is quite eager to serve Kris. Concerning shyness, Ralsei acts submissive, polite, eager to please, and shy or socially-anxious around Kris. As mentioned in Option 3, he says: “Kris in the end what you choose is up to you. As long as you're happy with it I'm happy too.” His submissive-polite speech pattern could indicate nervousness around his crush, and a lack of experience with his feelings and how to act around crushes. Social inexperience is quite plausible: he has barely, if ever, socialized with anyone, since he says he’s been “waiting his whole life for” Kris and Susie, alone in his castle.

At multiple points, Ralsei blushes or acts lovestruck while Kris is physically affectionate or complimentary to him. He blushes when Kris hugs him in the battle tutorial against the dummy. He also blushes when Kris gives the White Ribbon to him, and he asks Kris if he looks pretty. (If Susie’s in the party at that point, he still blushes, but asks Susie instead) More convincingly, when Kris stands really close to Ralsei, Ralsei blushes (but doesn’t ask Kris to move) and when Kris repeatedly attacks the dummy, Ralsei says it’s okay if Kris attacks him, too. (while also blushing) He also amusedly says Kris doesn’t need to donate to the tutorial masters to get him to call Kris “honey”, and that's something married couples, not friends, call each other.

He is also polite, submissive, and waffling to Susie, cares a lot about her, wants her on the team, and goes along with her plans when it’s not outright counterproductive (e.g., being launched at K. Round). However, he still treats Susie differently: he doesn’t blush when talking to Susie, nor does he anticipate Susie’s needs as he does for Kris. (The closest he gets to that is mentioning he “WAS going to bake a cake later” when Susie alludes to her hunger over three sentences.) This suggests he doesn’t have a crush on Susie, too.

It’s likely that this crush is combined with putting Kris on a pedestal or being intimidated by then. Seam says “[Lightners] were like gods to us.” and the Spade King continues with the godlike characterization, telling Ralsei to “perish with the pathetic Lightners you worship!” An NPC also points out the Delta Warriors took the Ragged Scarf in the chest without even asking, and claims it's a "gift to help you defeat the KING!" but also points out they're "potentially criminals". When Kris does the wrong thing, such as repeatedly hugging Ralsei in a combat tutorial, he might be too intimidated to say no, especially for harmless actions. Furthermore, Ralsei might lack integrity or feel insecure at the start, making him especially socially malleable.

Counterpoints

Though blushing in certain circumstances (e.g., saying Kris can hit them) could indicate Ralsei is lovestruck and possibly a masochist (see below), blushing can also show shame or anxiety. Therefore, Ralsei might blush when saying Kris can hit him due to his anticipation of Kris’s needs and inability to say no combining with discomfort on the matter.

It’s unclear whether he enjoys being hugged in general, hugged by people he likes, or specifically being hugged by Kris. After all, he said he’s never hugged anyone before, so he, logically, would never have been hugged back.

Option 5: Social and Physical Masochist

It’s possible he actually likes some combination of getting hurt, insulted, or bossed around, as well as serving Lightners. This is unusual: other Darkners also respond unhappily to getting hurt or insulted, such as Jigswaries getting attacked by Susie or Susie being mean to Bloxer. Even Lancer, as much as he likes Susie, doesn’t act submissive or servile towards her. There’s no evidence Lancer likes getting bossed around or insulted, and he doesn’t like getting hurt. Lancer even imprisons Susie to prevent her and the other Lightners from fighting (and potentially killing) his dad: Ralsei never poses such an obstacle.

Although the Rudinns are unhappy fanning Susie and Lancer, Ralsei offers to fan Kris just in case they’re envious of an evildoing lifestyle. If Kris throws away the manual, Ralsei offers to make a better one next time. The biggest piece of evidence is that, when Ralsei says it’s okay if Kris hits him, Ralsei blushes.

This is one of the less likely interpretations. Although he has a strangely high tolerance for others being mean to him, he does eventually ask Susie to stop being mean to him. However, he’s still a pushover: he entices her into simply being nice to him on a journey to save the world by offering cake, rather than for the sake of decency.

Option 6: Slightly Insane

Mental disturbance is another less likely possibility. After all, Seam says “Around here, you learn to find ways to pass the time...or go mad like everyone else.” If Seam is right, descending into madness is a risk for Darkners, so Ralsei could be mildly insane.

Still, even without supernatural explanations, his behavior and beliefs could easily become erratic if he was alone in the quietude of his castle for long enough, especially without a variety of fun activities. Seam may describe the Dark World as a “prison”, but Ralsei’s kingdom is a prison within a prison: except for two hedges in the tiny Castle Town, there apparently aren’t any living things there but him. Even hermits have richer nature surroundings, and animals for company. Yet, unless Ralsei climbs a cliff to the starting zone to meet with the spoon-like hazards and the sleeping dust lumps, he doesn’t even have animals: just the dummy based off himself.

Conclusion

Although there’s definitely something psychologically weird about Ralsei, it’s hard to figure out what, since there are many ways to interpret his behavior. Some explanations can even be combined: he could, for example, be happy about inevitably becoming a Delta Warrior, solitude eroded his social boundaries (if he ever had any), and he’s simultaneously in love with and intimidated by Kris.

There’s not enough data to say which interpretations are true, or how many, or to what extent. But one thing’s for sure: Ralsei ought to put up some boundaries and say “heck no!” a lot more.

If you enjoyed this post, you may be interested in the author's Patreon and Ko-Fi.

Related Reading Flowey and PTSD series (also analyses the causes and symptoms of strange behavior)

When the Spade King tells him to "perish with the pathetic LIGHTNERs you worship", Ralsei says: “Sorry, but we’re not going anywhere!” Even when responding to the villain of the story who wants to kill him, he sounds almost apologetic. ↩︎

He says this as if he’s not a hero himself. It might mean he knows he's a not one of the prophecized heroes, or that he doesn't have have a high opinion of himself. ↩︎

Lancer: The WHAT machine? Ralsei: The machine... ? We had a whole sequence about it...? Lancer: Oh that. Yeah we'll make it at the last minute. Ralsei: You two should REALLY start working on it earlier...

↩︎

[thestuckylibrary]

Group Ask 166

What is a group ask?

Previous Group Asks

AO3 Search Tutorial

Please send us an ask stating which group ask and which person you are replying to. Thank you so much in advance!

Anon 1 said: (past rape/noncon)

Hi! I'm looking for a fic in which Bucky hides his period from the team (once he is with the avengers) because Pierce made him believe that it meant he had lost a baby. There's at least mention of past rape and I remember reading it on ao3, but I haven't been able to find it -Thank you in advance for your help and making this archive!

Anon 2 said:

do you know the fic where steve got the serum but his body build didnt change and he never went down in the ice but he was also aging very slowly and that’s how he made it in the modern world. when he met bucky again, he prevented the events of cw from happening by telling tony about what really happened with his parents and stuff

darkphoenixrisingwrites said:

Hi, I am looking for a Stucky fic on Ao3. Bucky was captured and put into a safe house with Steve. Hr isn't allowed to leave the and isn't talking to Steve at first because he doesn't remember him. A government guy pays them regular visits. A female therapist comes to visit Bucky too. Nat and Sam were guests in the house. Steve manages to get Bucky to talk. Soon Bucky begins to remember stuff. He is sure that his memory of kissing Steve is real but Steve denies it. Steve orders stuff for the house via chat with some guy from the government. Thomas or so. Later Steve and Bucky sleep with each other and get almost caught by that government guy during a surprise visit. Nat, during one of her visits, figures out what's going on between them. If I remember correctly Bucky is on some kind if trial phase. If he behaves and if the therapist declares him not a threat, then he is free to go. If he breaks a rule he'll be tried for his crimes as the WS.

pendragonstar and dragonflybeach sent in We’ll Be Okay Someday* by arthurmarston (WIP | 105,982 | E) *implied/referenced rape/noncon, implied/referenced torture

Anon 3 said:

hi, hello, there’s a fic I’ve been looking for forever and I can’t seem to find... I don’t remember most of the details, but bucky was a merman. His tail was red and he had human legs as long as he didn’t touch any water? I think it was set in the war and it was very angsty. I remember a scene in which they’re being attacked and Bucky jumps off a cliff and into water, turns, and kills their enemies (hydra??)

herkharvey sent in Sharp Teeth and Bird Bones* by Shaish, Stringlish (restricted, complete | 32662 & E) *graphic violence 

musicforlife2000-blog said:

looked everywhere and I can't find this fic, its about Steve being able to teleport, and Peggy has kids with Gabe, and they find Bucky but he doesn't remember himself but makes the decision to trust Steve in the hospital when Steve promises him revenge on hydra their relationship develops while Bucky remembers more, and then something about Steve being able to teleport people in some void and depending on good or bad they see some awful stuff and at the end Becca and Bucky find Steve on a beach

ice-whisper, dragonflybeach, princessniitza, whyaretheycalledpancakes and Anon sent in cascades.* by orange_crushed (complete | 152,138 | M) *graphic violence

Anon 4 said:

Hi! Sorry this is a bit vague but i was looking for this fic about bucky's recovery where steve does a painting of bucky that becomes famous (there was a lot about how the painting evoked a sense of distance between the viewer and the subject and i think rothko was mentioned?) and later on he does another painting of bucky that shows how far they've come and how they're in a better place now? Thank you!! :)

amazonrhinos sent in Casual Encounters by MoreThanSlightly (cadignan) (complete | 66,593 | E)

Anon 5 said:

Hi! I've been going crazy looking for a fic and thought I'd try my luck here. I remember it was a journal/book written by one of the howling commandos, showing Steve and Bucky from an outsiders pov in the war. Bucky was kept out of history, he was never referred to by name and in the fic the nazis had a nickname for him that had something to do with skull, and parts of bucky's character was the 'bear jew' from inglorious bastards.

Anon sent in Jacob (I Have Loved) by Lasgalendil (restricted, WIP | 109,472| M) *graphic violence, rape/noncon, major character death

whyaretheycalledpancakes sent in The Night War: 60th Anniversary Edition* by praximeter (Zimario) (complete | 109,105 | T ) */others or Brothers by bloodbuzzedohio (complete | 49,821 | E)

Anon 6 said:

Hi, ages ago I read a fic that was Steve and Bucky pre-war, it was basically a PWP where Bucky and Steve would have sex, but the whole tone was kinda: Bucky isn't looking Steve in the eyes, so he can pretend he's a dame, lots of denial, etc., but at the end, Bucky is being all gentle to Steve and says something like "I don't want to pretend you're a dame anymore" to Steve. I searched so much for that fic, so i was hoping that maybe someone could help? :)

Anon 7 said:

I was reading this very long post WWII AU fic, but didn’t bookmark it. Can you help me find it? Steve fought WWII, but in Pacific. Arnie died in Guadalcanal. Peggy was nurse. Steve got blue ticked. Bucky is sixteenish twink and met S in gay bar. S has storage chest and B finds sketchbooks there. S+B move together to 2 bedroom apartment. S feels guilty for making B live in shadows as a gay man. 

herkharvey, princessniitza and allegra-dreams sent in Civilian* by alby_mangroves, CoraRochester (complete | 71,880 | E) *underage

trash-bih said:

Hi... I’m looking for a fic where Steve and Bucky are in Paris during/after the war and it starts off with them at like a party. Steve and Bucky are talking to different women. The woman talking to Steve knew he is in love with Bucky and pulls him off to the side to speak with him. She introduces Steve to her girlfriend. The women, Steve, and Bucky then leave for a hotel. At the hotel, Steve blindfolds Bucky but inadvertently triggers Bucky’s PTSD from his captivity/experimentation at Azzano.

Anon 8 said:

i've sent this ask before, but i think it got lost among the others. i'm looking for an abo fic, where bucky is an alpha and steve is an omega. it's in the 1940s. bucky goes to war and comes back from it alive. steve doesn't get the serum, so it's a pre-serum one. they have bunch of kids, i think it was around 7-8 (might be even more). they move somewhere else and bucky starts working as a mechanic with the romanoffs. thank you!!!

currently-recharging sent in Like Rahab* by moonythejedi394 (complete | 131,789| E) *rape/noncon

Anon 9 said:

Thanks for this blog! I'm looking for a fit that's an AU where they are both agents and Bucky gets kidnapped and Steve finds him by listening to background noise recording. Also he helps buck recover. Thanks again!

scriggle-scraggle sent in When the Sun Sets on Dark Silhouettes by caughtinanocean (oneshot | 8,283 | T)

Anon 10 said:

can you help me find this fic?? basically bucky goes to steve's house in the middle of the night and talks about how he was fucked by someone else at a party but he wasn't as good, so he has steve fuck him instead, but then they become boyfriends, and i remember that bucky had this like 'sweet space' where he basically drops really hard. thank you so much!!

theheartofmaria sent in No One Else by howdoyousleep (complete | 12,577 | E)

Anon 11 said:

hi im really desperate to find this fic im wondering if you could help me? basically its post tws and buckys running from steve and sam, but he goes to the museum’s exhibit on him and steals a boys phone in the bathroom to research himself more before returning the phone. steve catches up to him but bucky knocks him out to escape before eventually going to the tower with him and in the end he dyes his hair blue. does this ring any bells? thank uuuuu

Anon 12 said:

I'm looking for this fic where Steve&Bucky were fucking, but Bucky always had his mask on and refused to tell Steve his name. Steve got sick or smthn and Bucky came to visit him in the hospital and they fucked and I think Steve begged either for Bucky's name or for him to take off the mask? I think Bucky was a temporary avenger bc someone was sick maybe?? So they fuck for the last time bc Bucky's contract is up and so he tells Steve who he really is. Can anyone help me? Thanks!

allegra-dreams and Anon sent in a blade with no handle by ftmsteverogers (oneshot | 13,351 | E)

amazonrhinos sent in Happy Accidents by BetteNoire (WeAreWolves) (restricted, complete | 29,777 | E)

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh E8 S4: Joey’s Turn to Hallucinate During a Card Game

Alright, lets jump into Yugioh while I wait to wake up this morning. Hate mornings. Hate them.

So I guess in the Yugioh universe, San Fransisco avoided Loma Prieta, but instead got smacked by a KaibaCorp satellite dropping from space. Dunno which is worse but uh.......thanks, Seto. Maybe the building was empty though. I mean it’s not like anyone is here right now. apparently everyone working for Pegasus does so from their laptop in their pj’s situated in their apartments in Oakland.

And good news, this is one of the episodes with That Really Good Storyboarder. Like you can REALLY tell when this particular storyboarder enters the room, and apparently they really like Joey episodes?

Anyway, for anyone who’s like “I want to draw hands better.” This whole episode is a good study for how to do dynamic hands. It’s insane.

In fact apparently there is an art book just about hands in the works BY the guy who designed a lot of the Yugioh hand shots--thing is it’s entirely in Japanese and I don’t really know much Japanese....so I’m waiting for it in English. But, my friend translated the promo for me and mentioned that if you preorder the book you get 3 instructional videos for drawing dynamic hands from this particular artist.

Only problem is, the videos would go right over my head because it’s still not in English, so uh, missed opportunity because I never got serious with my Duolingo. O well. And people keep asking “are you learning Japanese for anime? Are you dating a Japanese guy?” and it’s like no, for reals, I’m an artist, this is just what you have to do, learn Spanish, learn French, learn Japanese, or you will miss out on so many good tutorials. Like every DAY I see a good ass tutorial on Twitter and it’s like...did they have to hand-write it?

Anyway if you want to buy it, it’s on Japanese Amazon and I don’t know what it’s called because it’s been a hot minute since it’s been a few months since I’ve looked at it. But it exists. I have no idea if it’ll be shipped internationally either, in fact, I was just gonna ask very nicely to my one friend like it’s middle school and I need some good looking authentic jelly pens delivered. But youknow...instead I’ll keep an eye out because I’m banking on this getting translated into English.

I will let you ALL know when I see this book translated into English.

(read more under the cut)

So, we start this episode with Mai being transported to Atlantis island. I’m not entirely sure if the Atlantis Island is the same place as the Atlantis on the bottom of the ocean, but whether she’s above or below the water won’t matter because they did a very wise jump cut.

So I have no idea if she jumped out of a motorcycle to get here. Maybe?

Anyway, Valon introduces her to the Lair. Shows her the snakes, the fire torches that are always lit, a couple more snakes. Youknow, normal stuff for a completely normal date.

PS I do appreciate the bismuth pattern here. Bismuth is a really amazing under-used concept art tool. I mean LOOK at bismuth.

Gollllll I just want to see a whole lot more bismuth in art, it pops.

And then, Valon decides to introduce Mai to his Dad, who is a LOT when you get up close to him.

Man just SO many elements here. The head chain, the yellow eyeball (which is the same eye that Pegasus wore his golden eyeball--dunno if it’s related but as I’ve mentioned before, this show is rude to eyes), The very LONG lower lashes (I’m a SUCKER for putting long lower lashes on all of OC’s myself, it’s a good time) the amount of side-bangs on this guy that would have taken like 12 hair extensions. the wind always seems to flow around him to pick up his cloak and his cape (yes he has both) And on the back he has like a princess Jasmine style ponytail where it’s like......how does he do that? Truly magical, this Ultimate-OC-looking-guy is.

We again recap a little more of Mai’s perspective from the Prism, which I didn’t think she’d be able to see everyone else from...but apparently she saw enough.

And so, because Mai didn’t want to feel scared ever again, she decided to instead feel nothing. Trade in your plateauing card career for getting OP card magic powers. I mean, it tracks.

Then our Storyboarder just started FLEXING.

Y’all.

He just...did that.

Do you know how good you have to know hands to draw that? You’d have to firstly know hands like a freakin hand surgeon, then you’d have to get like so many different references to study what the hell is even going on there. Go ahead and do this hand pose. You CAN’T. It’s amazing. And on top of that--she’s wearing a fingerless glove? And a weird duel disk in perspective?

This whole thing is FORESHORTENED are you freakin kidding me???

This storyboarder!

Enter Duke, who just woke up today thinking it’d be a normal day but alas, it was a Yugi Muto day, and you can’t escape this asshole even if you fly halfway across the world. He will show up, somehow blow up some gas station, and your boss will be mysteriously dead and there’s nothing Duke can do about this horrible curse he’s had to deal with ever since Pharaoh cursed him with Being Friends With Pharaoh. The worst curse.

Like imagine you showed up at Apple Headquarters and this madness was there instead of a lobby.

Then, because things aren’t yet weird enough for Duke Devlin to just walk into, the dragon card starts glowing and takes our third dragon boy on a Spiritual Dragon Journey.

Right now.

During a card game where Joey is facing off a serial murderer/ex-not-a-girlfriend.

And it’s not just Joey and Yugi this time.

...I know I was just applauding this storyboarder but there is NO WAY they didn’t know what they were doing. I get that Seto has a thing for dragons. I don’t need this upskirt shot to remind me of his weird hallucinatory love affair with dragons.

The amount of weird upskirts they like to do with Seto. I mean I’m glad it’s not Mai but youknow...I just didn’t expect this.

Ever.

I never expected this shot with the...joystick.

There is a very obvious joystick in this shot and like 15-45 animators looked at this and said “well it’s too late now, the good storyboarder likes it, and this is the toll we pay.”

I just want to know if any animators saw this and said to their friend “hey....I need to go take a break. Want to go to a very long lunch and forget this ever happened?”

And that’s the whole dream. We are now officially out of porky dragons, which means everyone else in this party will just have........nothing to do, right?

Is it too much to ask that Mokuba get to have a dragon?

Way too much to ask, just realized it as I was typing it.

The concern coming off of Mokuba right now.

Like seriously Mokuba is in a constant state of “do I listen to my older brother or do I heavily sedate my older brother before I get abducted for the sixth time?”

Apparently all of the Orichalcos etc is responding to the dragons, which makes sense, since it’s like...toys that were sold next to eachother in the toy store. Just feels like these things are constantly glowing but everyone forgets that there’s not just three cards and three stones but also Yugi has a stone in his pocket somewhere.

We just have a lot of artifacts hanging out everywhere but it’s Yugioh, so of course no one is going to keep track of any of them. If only Bakura were here, he’d have that down but like...instead it’s the Yugi team, so if it’s not directly around your neck it just doesn’t exist.

Anyway, it’s the holidays so I’ll get the next post up......sometime? Kind of a shame what happened to my update schedule but that’s life.

And if you want to read these from the beginning, you can click on this link here