#and i just *groans* and go do my skincare routine that i keep neglecting to do

[icharchivist]

me everytime i manage to motivate myself in doing skin care: Azami would be so proud of me right now

[blushingbaka]

nightly skincare routine

|| summary - when your nightly skincare routine equals quality time with your boyfriend sakusa

pairing: sakusa x reader genre: fluff warnings: none length: 915

✰ a/n: this is just a little scenario i whipped up bc i’m feeling soft for sakusa. i’ve been trash at keeping my skincare routine lately, so i really need an irl sakusa to keep me in line ahaha

Your boyfriend’s announcement that he’s home comes as a relief to your heavy eyelids. The random show you were playing on tv to keep you awake is easily neglected as you shift your position on the couch to see Sakusa enter. Another late practice, and judging by the sigh that leaves his lips when he discards his mask, you can tell it must have been an exhausting one. You are quite exhausted yourself from your day at work, so you want nothing more than to lead him directly to bed, but you know him too well to even get up from the couch. He’ll want to take a shower before he even kisses you. Even if he doesn’t have a late practice or game, he always showers at night as his way to destress from the day. You lean your head on the back of the couch letting a small ‘hey’ escape from your lips. The left corner of his mouth quirks up in a faint smile as he takes a moment to drink you in. “I won’t be long” he promises before disappearing into your bedroom. Alone again, the sleepiness settles back in and now the lull of the shower running isn’t exactly helping either. At some point, you must have given in because the next thing you’re aware of his Sakusa’s gentle pat on your head. “You’re tired” You chuckle at his blunt statement and stand up so you can lean over the couch to give him a proper kiss. “Let’s go to bed” you sigh into his lips. At that, he tilts his head and lightly scrunches up his nose. “Have you already done your nightly skincare routine?” He questions although he already knows the answer. “We can skip it one night Kiyoomi” you pout not wanting anymore delay in finding comfort between your sheets and Sakusa’s arms. “A routine is a routine.” He says reprovingly, so all you can do is groan and allow him to lead you into the bathroom. Damn him and his stubborn logic. It’s almost comical how crowded the counter gets once you both pull out all your skincare products. You always had some semblance of a skincare routine before you met Kiyoomi, but dating him inevitably led to you having your own 7 or 9 step process depending on the day. A comfortable silence envelops the room as you both commence your routine. You smile into the mirror never tiring of the sight of Sakusa with his raven curls pushed back with a fluffy, baby pink headband that also bears a sizable bow. You had got him that as part of a gift one year mostly as a joke, but your boyfriend wore it quite frequently not finding it threatening to his masculinity in the slightest. It’s not until you begin the tedious process of cleaning the product of your clay mask off your hands that Sakusa speaks. Or you should say scoffs. “It wouldn’t be so hard if you just used a silicone applicator.” there is definitely judgement laced in his tone, but dating him this long as made you immune to it. “It's not as satisfying" you easily quip back already having this argument with him. If his energy wasn’t fleeting, he probably would have carried on the banter, but he falls back into silence.  “Alright, it’s a 15 min wait for me” you hummed watching Sakusa carefully put on his sheet mask. “20” “Bed?” You’re already walking out of the bathroom, but your optimism fails you. “No.” He quickly shuts you down, hands firmly grabbing your hips and spinning you around to face him. “We know from past experiences you’ll either fall asleep or you’ll want me to wash it off so you don’t have to get back up. And both of those scenarios probably end with that gunk getting in our bed” His chiding voice is deep and muffled from his attempt to lessen his face movement, but he still has to re-apply pressure on his nose. You know he scrunched it up in disgust. How predictable. “Okay okay,” you giggle, easily giving in, and guiding him so you are leaning against the bathroom counter and he is gently leaning into you with his hands still on your hips. “I guess we’ll just stand here.” “You can tell me about your day” he mutters softly, shyly averting his eyes.

And so that’s exactly what you do. This happens quite often on weekdays when both of your schedules are hectic. Doing your skincare routine together sometimes is the only way to work in some quality time. There has been many times where you’ve done it over the phone, with Sakusa being out of town. 

Of course, nothing beats having him here with you where you can clearly see the softness in his onyx eyes, hear the small hums he gives you as reassurance he’s listening, and feel the ever so gentle circles he’s rubbing into your hips. It leaves a warmness in you that doesn’t even disappear throughout the rest of your nightly routine or the moment when you’re finally snuggled into bed, the lights off. 

Sleep is quick to draw you in but not before Sakusa presses a gentle peck on your nose. Your eyes pop back open, surprised by his actions. 

“Thank you for waiting up” he whispered pulling you closer into his chest. You know this is as close he'll get to admitting that your little quality time together soothed him after an exhausting day. Nonetheless, affection swells in your heart, and you can’t help but press a kiss to his clothed collarbone. You know that you don’t need to say the word. Your firm kiss should be all he needs to convey the message. Always. 

[mcwriting]

sweet home alabama (2)

Hi all! Between marriage project and some one shots, I decided to upload this chapter!

Reminder: Characters have strong southern accents (save for Tom in the present).

Masterlist

Word Count: 2618

Warnings: slight injury mention

∆ present ∆

The weekend came and went, allowing Tom some time to get a new wardrobe for farmwork and acquire a pair of boots, as his last pair had been passed down and worn out by Sam years ago.

Tom had been enjoying a peaceful rest when he was jolted awake by two hands forcefully shaking him.

“What the- Sam! What are you doing?” Tom exclaimed, sitting up.

“You gotta go to Mel’s today, right? Sun rises in an hour. Better get up and eat ‘fore you head over there,” the younger brother explained. Tom tossed back his head and groaned.

“Fine. I’ll get up,” he replied, tossing off his quilt and sheet.

With the money Tom had made in recent years, he had been able to send some home every so often, which helped fund a much needed expansion of the family home. Unfortunately, they hadn’t added enough bathrooms for each brother to get their own.

“Tom! What in God’s name is taking you so long! You’re gonna be working cotton not modeling it!” Harry yelled, pounding on the door.

“Alright alright! It’s all yours!” Tom exclaimed as he opened up the door. Harry couldn’t help but laugh at his brother.

Though Tom had dressed in a button up, jeans, and boots, he had also made sure to style his hair until every wisp sat straight.

“You know you’re gonna sweat that gel off in ten minutes, right? Especially if you wear a hat.”

Tom rolled his eyes.

“Harry, you know me. There’s always a camera somewhere. Gotta be ready for anything. And it’s pomade, not gel.”

The other young twin just rolled his eyes back and slammed the door shut.

∆

A few minutes down the road, y/n was getting ready to start her own day. She rose at dawn like always, stretching a bit and hopping out of bed.

Though she was living a country life, she still took the time to do a full skincare routine, being especially attentive to the products she used and how much sunscreen she applied.

Since she wouldn’t be at any farms in the morning, y/n put on leggings and tshirt and headed out the door, a granola bar in hand. She only had to drive a mile away to get to the “s.h.e.d.”

As usual, she was the first one there, so she keyed in and turned on all the lights. She took in a deep breath of the smells of the soil and chemicals around her as she tossed on her lab coat.

You didn’t think she was any ordinary farm girl, did you?

In reality, she had actually gone to UCLA, getting degrees in both chemistry and environmental engineering. Now she had spent the last year doing research thanks to a grant to improve the agricultural health of her hometown so she could eventually receive a master’s degree.

But we’ll talk more on that later.

Now that the sun was finally peeking above the horizon, her two lab assistants finally showed up.

Her assistants, Ciara and Jacob, were students at a community college in the town 45 minutes away. They were bright and the three always enjoyed working together, as they played fun music and conversed while recording research.

“Hey! Glad y’all could finally make it! Y’all know that last week I collected more samples from Mel’s, so today I want to prepare a gram from each jar in solution so we can run samples and start looking at what nutrients need supplementing and where so I can put a fertilizer together for tomorrow.”

The two were happy to follow their boss’s instruction, and y/n couldn’t help but smile as she scanned over her lab, remembering where she started.

∆ 16 years old ∆

Y/n had always been good at school.

A straight A student, never one to act out or deliberately miss work. Everyone knew she was bright, and she continued to prove that as she aged.

By sophomore year of high school, she was already an above-average scorer on the ACT and was taking courses above her grade level to keep from boring herself.

But in a town as small as hers, one could only get so advanced in high school alone.

Thankfully once she was a junior, the community college Ciara and Jacob were now attending allowed students to enroll in some basic online classes and receive credit, so long as they had good enough internet connection.

Because she was ahead, y/n had a free period where she could mooch off of the school’s wifi in an empty classroom. However, she didn’t have the same luxury at home, and had to go to Tom’s to complete any assignments after school.

By this point, Tom had been going to small auditions for a couple years, picking up the occasional commercial role and making a few bucks here and there, enough to get his family better TV and internet, anyways.

“Hey, y/n?” Tom asked one day, late in the fall. He laid back on the bed, tossing a foam basketball above his head while y/n worked on her college math class from the floor. She hummed in response, holding a pencil between her teeth.

“What are you plannin’ to do with all this college stuff anyways?” he asked. His accent was still as strong as ever. He hadn’t taught himself to let it go yet.

“I’on know. Maybe git a degree and move out of this town for a while. Find a real job that ain’t baling hay or planting stuff. You know I really love science,” she replied. She knew she had a lot of options, she was only a couple points away from that perfect ACT score by now.

There was a pause as she continued to tap numbers into a calculator and record them.

“I got another audition ‘fore thanksgiving,'' Tom announced after a while. Y/n didn’t look up.

“Oh yeah? What for, toothpaste ad or somethin’?”

“Uh, no actually. This one’s for a movie. A real movie.”

Y/n dropped the pencil and looked up at Tom, pushing up from the ground to sit on her knees as he sat up straight.

“Really? You’re serious? You ain’t pulling my leg or something?”

Tom smiled big and nodded.

“I mean it. I really got this audition coming up.”

“Oh my gosh, TOM!”

Y/n quickly stood up, tackling her best friend in a hug, practically ending up on his lap. They stayed that way for a while.

“Tom, this is seriously incredible. You’re gonna be in a movie!”

He pulled back quickly.

“Don’t be too quick, now. This is only an audition, there’s no way to say I’ll actually get the part-” he started, but y/n got off him and kneeled on the floor, so that her eyes were level with his and she could grab his upper arms to look at him directly.

“You’re gonna get that part,” she smiled, unable to contain her excitement. “You’re gonna nail that audition, and you’re getting that part. This is gonna be your big break, I just know it.”

“Thanks for believin’ in me. Hopefully I won’t prove you a liar this time,” he replied, pulling her up into another hug.

She ended up being right, too, because after his first audition, he got a callback during Christmas break and secured the role which he’d film the summer between junior and senior year.

The pair knew they were really starting to grow up, but didn’t let their different pursuits come between them just yet.

Tom was the one who drove her to her final ACT where she got her perfect score (since she didn’t have a car yet), and the movie filmed a few hours away in the Birmingham area (where y/n drove Tom’s truck in his absence since he was still too young to live there alone).

It worked, for the most part.

∆ present ∆

Tom drew in a sharp breath and winced, limping through the barn and plopping onto a hay bale as he gulped down some water. He had been walking up and down the rows watering the plants, as the four-wheeler Melanie’s dad typically used to water was broken.

“How’s it looking, Mr. Carmichael?” he asked, dabbing away the sweat on his forehead with a towel as he rehydrated.

The older gentleman stood up and looked at Tom.

“Well, son. I’ve almost got this thing here fixed, but you ain’t looking too good,” he pointed out.

“What do you mean, sir?” Tom asked. He may have lost his accent, but didn’t forget his manners.

“Looks like you’ve been ridin’ horses the way you’re walkin’. New boots? Not to mention that sunburn you’re startin’ to nurse. Why don’t you run up to the house and have Mel fix those up. I’m sure her momma fixed some lunch for ya, too.”

“A- are you sure, sir? I’ve only got about 10 more rows before I’m done.”

“No, no. It’s alright, boy. Run along and fix yourself up. I’ll handle the rest.”

Tom thanked the man and slowly got up, immediately remembering the pain in his feet and now aware of the stinging on his cheeks.

He’d forgotten that boots don’t really break themselves in and he hadn’t worn very thick socks. He also had somehow neglected that the sun beats just as hard in the farmlands as it does in Malibu.

He waddled up to the house, where Melanie was on the porch reading a book.

“Well by God, Tom. You’re walkin’ like you just got your back blown out for the first time,” she laughed, causing his cheeks to redden more.

“They’re new boots, alright? Now could you help me out? Your dad said you might know of something?”

She looked past him towards the barn, then closed her book and nodded her head towards the door, standing.

“Come on. Momma made you a sandwich if you want it. You can leave your boots by the door.”

They headed inside, a large living room on the right and the kitchen to the left. Tom wiggled his shoes and socks off in the entryway as Melanie ducked into a hallway to grab a few things.

“Oh Tom! I’m glad you came in! Are you hungry? I’ve got lunch for ya,” Mrs. Carmichael said as she appeared from the kitchen.

“That would be really nice, Mrs. Carmichael. Thank you,” he replied as she sat him down at the kitchen table, placing a plate with a turkey sandwich and some chips in front of him along with a glass of sweet tea.

He dug into the meal, immediately realizing just how hungry he really was. By the time he’d finished the sandwich (which really didn’t take that long), Melanie appeared with a laundry basket full of stuff. Tom washed down his meal with some tea before speaking.

“Jesus, Mel, how much does it take to patch up some blisters?” he asked.

“First off, don’t be takin’ the Lord’s name in vain in this house,” she commanded, pointing her head towards her mother in the living room, to which Tom covered his mouth and shot a thumbs up. “And second, I figured it best just to grab all my stuff than dig through it.”

She plopped the basket on the table and herself into the seat next to Tom, stealing a chip from his plate. It crunched in her mouth as she began pulling out random things like a stethoscope, a blood pressure cuff, and meds.

“What’s that all for?” Tom asked, brows furrowed. Melanie gave back an equally confused look and went back to digging.

“What do you mean? They’re just medical supplies.”

“Well, yeah, but I mean why do you have a stethoscope and stuff?”

She paused what she was doing and looked back up at Tom.

“You do know I’m a nurse, right?” she asked. She immediately knew he didn’t by the way his eyes popped open.

After high school, Melanie had been able to go off and get her nursing degree, now working in the closest hospital which was, you guessed it, 45 minutes away.

She usually worked 12 hour shifts at the hospital Tuesday through Thursday, spending her other days at home so she could respond to small needs around town, especially on weekends when people liked to get drunk and be reckless.

“Oh, wow. I didn’t realize that. Good for you,” Tom replied, unsure of what else to say.

“It’s alright. You’ve been gone quite a while and we all know you ain’t checking in on what happens ‘round these parts no more. Now take this and let me grab the aloe from the fridge,” she said, dropping two advil on his plate and getting up.

Tom did as told, feeling the weight of what she had dismissively said. He really hadn’t checked in since leaving. Sure, his brothers and Harrison sometimes kept him in the loop. At least, he thought so.

He was trying to remember what the last big piece of news he had heard about home was, but came up short. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had seen anything on social media about home, since he’d unfollowed most of the people back home after his career took off.

They all reminded him of y/n anyways.

“You mind if I put some of this on your face?” Melanie asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. He obliged and she spread some of the cool aloe gel over his sunburn.

“Feel better?” she asked, to which he nodded. “Good, now let’s take a look at those blisters.”

She cringed when she saw how beat up his feet were. She pulled out a bit of numbing gel, hydrocolloid bandages, and fabric tape. Soon enough, she had his blisters all covered up and was handing him some more bandages and tape.

“Now I want you to leave these on as long as possible, alright? When they fall off or the spot in the middle gets too big, you’ll switch ‘em out for new. You should be in ship shape here in a few days. And you best not forget sunscreen from now on.”

“Will do. Thanks again, Mel. Hard to believe I’ve been gone long enough for you to become a nurse and all, huh?” Tom asked, half joking. Melanie nodded.

“Yeah, well. ‘Lot’s changed around here, even if it don’t look like it. You’d be surprised… Now before I forget...” Melanie quickly got up and left the room, returning with two wood and metal contraptions. “Here’s some boot stretchers to put in your shoes when you get home. Should help stretch ‘em out and I’m sure the boys would lend you some leather conditioner.”

With that, Tom put his boots back on and thanked Mrs. Carmichael for the meal, heading back outside. He found Mr. Carmichael sitting on the now-functioning four wheeler.

“Well, boy, you all good?” the older man asked.

“Yes sir. Melanie got me all taped up and your wife made a great lunch. So what else do you need me to do?”

Mr. Carmichael looked around for a moment, staring at a few things, then back at Tom.

“Well I got the rest all watered and y/n won’t be around with fertilizer till tomorrow so why don’t you go home and rest up those feet, eh?”

Tom tried to object, as it was still quite early in the day, but the old man wouldn’t have it. He eventually conceded and gave one last thank you, hopping into his old truck and heading home, pondering why y/n would be bringing fertilizer in the coming day.

∆

A/N: hope you guys are liking this story so far! I really love the time jumping, and the progression of it in future chapters is really cool!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads, @mortallythoughtfulgurl, @onebigolemess, @justafangirlduh,

[sugaabooga]

Sleep For Smiles

Pairing: Seokjin x nurse!Reader

Genre: Fluff, fluff, fluff, smol f2l!au

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: PG-13, some cursing, Seokjin’s lowkey being neglected

Synopsis: After another tiring night shift, you go back home to find Seokjin doing the most to make you crack a smile. -OR- “Can i request a jin x reader fluff where reader is super grumpy and tired all the time and jin wants her to smile uwu”

“EEUHH.”

“Whoa.”

You pause in your loud stretching and shoot a glare up at the doctor who stands leaning over the counter with an amused grin.

He flips back to the first page of his clipboard and drops his hands down behind his back, continuing to look at you with a playful glint in his eye.

“What are you looking at Min?” you hiss.

Yoongi shrugs. “Your ugly ass face, that’s what.”

You over exaggerate a gasp making the 3rd year resident roll his eyes and let out a snort.

“Have you eaten?” he asks with a disinterested expression.

You sigh, shaking your head and going back to analyze the patient’s orders you received from another resident just a few minutes ago. “One of the professors got some food from the convenience store, but I haven’t had a chance to eat it.”

Yoongi looks at you with an awkward smile. “Well, you should uh. . . eat soon.”

You hold back your laugh at the tsundere doctor that you’ve managed to befriend during your three years of working at Yonsei University Hospital and instead shoot him a grateful look to minimize his discomfort of somewhat outwardly showing his care for you.

“Thanks, Yoongi,” you say, making his face slightly pink in embarrassment. He awkwardly coughs and holds up his clipboard, lightly smacking it against the counter.

“Well, I’ll be in the night room,” he states, an indirect way of telling you to come find him if there was an emergency.

You nod and send him away, going right back to organizing other patient records and making sure nothing was out of the ordinary. You sigh after what feels like a few hours but to your dismay, it’s only been thirty minutes.

Internally cursing the clock that reads 2am, you heave your lethargic body up from the comforts of your swivel chair and head over to the carts so you can replace a couple of patient’s IV drips.

Just a few more hours, you encourage yourself. A few more hours and your night shift for today will be over. It’ll be home at last.

//

“Babe?”

The voice that usually has the power to immediately form a smile on your face fails to do so as you trudge in through your door at 9 in the morning.

You hear feet shuffling as you haphazardly kick away your shoes and enter the living area of your small apartment. You fail to notice the sink empty of dirty dishes, coffee table clear of cups, plates, and wrappers, and your random clothes and objects previously strewn all over the floors, placed into a hamper or their original places.

Your boyfriend appears, head peeking out from behind the wall. 

“Well hello there,” you say in mild surprise, not having expected him to be over at your apartment so early in the morning.

Seokjin’s brows furrow before wrapping you in a brief hug. “Were you at the hospital this whole time?”

“Mmpgh,” you grunt in response, as he pulls away and you stumble past, heading straight to the couch. As you near the living room area, you realize his computer’s out, meaning that he must have been working before you came.

With a heavy sigh, you automatically collapse onto the couch. “Seokjin.”

“Hm?” Seokjin makes his way over to the couch as well, gently sitting on the sofa beside you. He gazes down at you with a soft smile, arm immediately wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you into his side.

“M tired,” you mutter at which Seokjin chuckles, caressing your hair.

“I came early in the morning in hopes to cook us both breakfast,” he says. “I thought your night shift was two days from now.”

You weakly nod as your consciousness goes in and out. Curse Kim Seokjin and his warm, squishy body. You wrap your arms around Seokjin's waist, adjusting yourself into a more comfortable position.

“I had to cover for Mina,” you mumble. “You’re right though. I have another night shift, two days from now.”

Seokjin sighs, gently pushing away your hair from your mouth so you were laying down more comfortably. “Good job for another hard day at work.”

With all the energy left in you, you let out an empty laugh at your boyfriend’s encouraging words.

“Why did I go into nursing?” you sigh, detaching yourself from Seokjin and leaning back into the plush cushions of your sofa to fully lay down.

“Yeah, why did you?” Seokjin jokes, but you feel too tired to give him a solid kick in the shoulder as you normally would and quietly place your feet over his lap.

You groan, reaching over the coffee table to get a hold of the TV remote and turn on Netflix to continue rewatching your favorite medical drama of all time, Hospital Playlist.

You would think after another tiring night shift, you wouldn’t want to watch anything that has to do with your job. But contrary from that common belief, watching Hospital Playlist encouraged you to continue working hard at your job for the sake of humanity.

You silently play the fourth episode and turn up the volume, tossing the remote aside.

Seokjin slightly frowns at your lack of reaction and shuts his computer, wiggling over to you.

“Y/N~” Seokjin whines, form wrapping around your lifeless body.

“Hm?” you hum.

Seokjin sighs in content, your soft, warm body always reminding him of how you were his. His best friend was dating him. How wonderful was that?

“I love you,” he suddenly declares, plopping a kiss onto your cheek.

“I love you too,” you respond, drooping eyes honed onto the TV screen and not sparing him a glance.

Seokjin's nose slightly wrinkles at the lack of attention and chooses to glare at the surgery scene playing out before him.

For a while, Seokjin finds himself immersed in the drama. Then, a joke lights up his face.

“You know people say there’s some kind of foam stuck at hospitals?”

“Unbeliebbuble,” you cut off his joke, making Seokjin’s jaw slightly drop.

“You aren’t supposed to answer the joke!” he exclaims, making you snort at his overreaction.

“I’m sorry Jin,” you sigh with a playful glint in your eye as you reach up to ruffle his hair. “You said that one too many times.”

Seokjin huffs, removing himself from your body and propping up his computer. You seemed way tired than usual and Seokjin tried to think of ways to cheer you up. He hated seeing you so drained of energy.

Seokjin half-heartedly emails back his superiors, mind running a mile a minute in hopes to get an idea of how to cheer you up.

“Hey,” Seokjin starts off, turning to face you with a lunch suggestion on his tongue, then shuts up when your knocked out state is all he sees.

Seokjin suppresses his grin, quickly fiddling around for his phone and snapping a closeup picture of your mouth dangling open.

“Y/N,” he whispers. “Aren’t you going to wash up?”

No response.

Seokjin’s lip quirks up as you don’t even stir and spends a solid minute staring at your face. He sees how you’ve already taken your makeup off. Or how it came off with the long work hours you’ve had to suffer through. Despite your hair being slightly greasy and drool starting to dribble out the corner of your mouth, Seokjin  coos, wondering how he had managed to gain your romantic affection after those long years of a platonic relationship.

When you slightly twitch, Seokjin loudly snorts and carries you up from the couch, walking over to your bedroom. He changes you into your loungewear and throws your clothes into the hamper, tucking you in and closing the door shut.

Seokjin heads over to the kitchen, deciding to cook up lunch so when you wake up you wouldn’t resort to cup noodles.

A few hours later, a brief rustling makes you stir in your sleep as you continue drifting in and out of your dream. The sound of a door slamming shut jolts you out of your imaginary scene between you and your boyfriend out on a date and you groan, wondering when you had snuggled into your bed. Looking down, you tug on your nightshirt in confusion.

You roll your eyes, a small smile lifting on your puffy, chapped lips as you realize Seokjin had taken care of you yet again.

You roll out of bed and into your bathroom to wake yourself up by doing your normal morning routine. After some refreshing skincare, you make your way into the kitchen, already having decided to just clear another two bowls of cup ramen. To your pleasant surprise, a full-on meal was already awaiting you.

You shake your head, obviously Seokjin being the one who had prepared this grand meal. At the sight of the rice and soup neatly placed beside each other, your stomach loudly grumble and you make a quick mental note to call Seokjin later and dig into the rice and the various side dishes.

“Is it good?”

“HMPFGH!” you choke on the kimchi you were scarfing down, a violent series of coughs erupting at the unexpected voice that interrupted your meal.

Seokjin alarmingly pats your back, reaching for the water cup and handing it to you. With tears in your eyes, you take massive gulps of water and gasp out a deep breath.

“I thought you left!” you finally say after the whole ordeal.

Seokjin nods, walking over the chair across from you and gestures to you to keep eating. “I went out so I could restock your snacks. Food must be good, huh? You didn’t even hear me coming in!”

“Well, first of all, thank you, kind sir, for buying snacks,” you say with a playful glare. “But just so you know, the food is alright. Don’t wanna feed into your ever-growing ego.”

Seokjin scoffs, leaning back and arms starting to move animatedly as a small smile naturally comes up onto his lips. “WOWWW. This is what I get for cooking a whole meal for my dear girlfriend who was knocked out from her night shift! WAAH.”

A giggle erupts between your lips as you shove another spoonful of rice into your mouth. You miss the way Seokjin fondly smiles, leaning forward with a shameless stare.

“Finally,” he mumbles.

“Hm?” you look up from your chewing, eyes wide in confusion.

Seokjin nods to himself. “Of course. Sleep is always the answer.”

Your brows furrow at his randomness. “What are you talking about?”

Seokjin’s bottom lip instinctively juts out as he props his chin on his hand. “I tried to cuddle with you, attempted to tell you one of my foolproof jokes-”

You bark out a laugh that Seokjin blatantly ignores.

“Cleaned your whole apartment and cooked you a meal,” Seokjin dramatically sighs.

You gasp, looking up with an apologetic expression. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, Jin.”

Seokjin remains silent, looking down at his cup.

“I was so tired that I didn’t even notice you decluttered everything and. . . washed the dishes?” you gasp once more when spotting an empty sink, pouting at your boyfriend. “I’m so sorry.”

You put down your spoon with a sigh, getting up and smacking your lips onto Seokjin’s for a brief second. Immediately, Seokjin cracks a smile, unable to contain his laughter.

“What the heck,” you scoff. “You were acting!?”

Seokjin laughs, pinching your cheek without care of your protests. “How could I ever be mad at my wonderfully perfectly utterly clueless girlfriend?”

Seokjin giggles at your glare. “I’m just kidding. Of course, I don’t blame you. I never can and never will. You’re working so much these days. It’s obvious for you to not be. . . fully awake?”

“I’m sorry,” you frown, grabbing a piece of fish cake to bring into your bowl.

“Don’t be,” Seokjin grins. “At least you smiled.”

“What?” you say, giving Seokjin a weirded out look.

“I’m telling you!” Seokjin sighs with a shake of his head. “All you women need is sleep. Not a man.”

You chortle out a laugh at his statement and nod. “I one hundred percent agree.”

Seokjin breaks out into laughter mid-scoff, unable to resist your contagious laughter.

“Let’s go outside after you’re done eating,” Seokjin suggests.

“No,” you deadpan, making him flinch. “I wanna finish rewatching Hospital Playlist.”

“You already watched that drama three ti-”

“I’ll give you that cuddle session I wasn’t able to give you earlier,” you interrupt with a wink.

Seokjin breaks out into a grin. “That actually sounds a lot better than a walk in the park.”

You laugh at his eagerness and continue eating with satisfied hums at his cooking. Seokjin wipes the sauce at the corner of your lip and continues to blatantly stare, feeling his heart swell at the sight of your lips stretching into a smile.

//

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed whatever this was LOL. I was slightly debating how to approach this request but i hope it turned out alright!! Seokjin’s cute or whateva.

[one-trigger-lullaby]

Your Friend Will be Punished for Your Failure w/ Lance and Shiro

This...wasn’t requested for my @badthingshappenbingo it’s just for my personal pleasure but if you wanna request something, send me an ask/pm (As long as it isn’t Prisoner Exchange)

~

His skin is dry and cracked, peeling in some places. His skincare routine had been neglected for far too long, that much he knew. He didn't know quite how long, the questioning and suffering had gone on in such a pattern that Lance couldn't even begin to decipher which day was which as every day felt exactly the same.

Pain, words, blood, pain, words, blood, pain, pain, pain.

The warm body next to him shifted but Lance didn't have the energy to move and see what was happening. He mourned the loss of warmth the second it left his side and curled up in a weak, loose ball.

There was a cold hand on his shoulder then, gently shaking. This hand didn't scare him, no, this hand iced his bruises, it didn't aim to earn him more. "Lance."

He blinked his eyes open and then squinted. They stung. Not by the light, there was no light in this place save for the purple glow coming through the slats in the door. Shiro was leaned over him, tired and gaunt, but mostly concerned.

Shiro smiled softly and raised his hand to Lance's cheek, rubbing away some of the grime gently. "Are you okay?"

"Are either of us okay?" Lance croaked sarcastically, his throat torn to shreds from screaming.

"They'll come," Shiro promised quietly, "you just have to hold on until then."

"It's been-" Lance paused to clear his throat and winced as the taste of blood presented itself on his dry tongue. When was the last time he'd had water? "-too long. They...aren't coming, Shiro."

"They are," Shiro insisted. He put his flesh hand underneath Lance's neck and put his robotic arm at the small of his back, lifting him up into his lap and letting him lean against his chest. "But, for now, you need to eat."

There was a tray with a slop of gray gunk that Lance had taken to calling 'The Stuff' on the tray, oddly keeping its shape as Shiro spooned a bit out and pressed it to Lance's lips. Lance's stomach protests weakly and he turns his head t Shiro's neck.

Shiro brought his other hand on Lance's head, gently petting, "Please?"

Lance was boneless in Shiro's lap and he felt tears spring his eyes, he pressed his face harder against Shiro's wiry neck. He shook his head, "I can't," He said quietly, pained. "I'm sorry, I can't."

Shiro pulled him closer, "Just a bite, that's it."

"I'll puke it up later," Lance said, knowing that, soon, he'd be dragged out of this cell and away from Shiro. There was always pain when Shiro wasn't around and he never came back to Shiro with a full stomach.

Or a clear head.

"Let your body have what it can until then. Please, Lance?" Shiro said, pleading. Lance twisted his hand into the thin material of Shiro's tunic, Shiro sounded sad and Lance hated making Shiro sad.

Shiro didn't deserve this.

He finally gave in, opening his trembling jaw and letting Shiro spoon the gray muck into his mouth, trying not to gag. It didn't taste bad, it could've been much worse, but Lance knew what it tasted like when it came back up and it was far from pleasant.

He choked it down and rested his head against Shiro's collarbone once more, letting out a puff of air. They sit like this for a while, Shiro eating the rest of The Stuff while trying to get Lance to eat another spoonful every once in a while and Lance hiding his face, trying not to cry when Shiro sighed sadly at his every denial.

He was trying, just maybe not hard enough. If he had tried harder, maybe Shiro wouldn't be here, maybe Voltron wouldn't be ruined. He was the blue paladin, but he was nothing irreplaceable, not like Shiro.

And the universe would suffer for his mistakes.

All too soon, he could hear the door rattle and he could feel Shiro tighten his arms as if he was going to resist, but they'd tried that already and it had gone terribly. Shiro didn't try to hold onto him again, not even if he asked him to.

Shiro started to loosen his grip while Lance held on tighter but they both froze when the usually silent guard spoke, "Both of you are being asked for."

Lance could feel the caution in Shiro's movements as he tightened the arm wrapped around Lance's back and put the other one under his legs, lifting him up. Lance was grateful that he wouldn't have to walk to his doom today, but he was anxious as to why both of them were being brought in. He clutched Shiro more tightly.

Lance could feel every turn that they took, but he didn't lift his head, he'd given up on memorizing the tunnels a long time ago. He heard a door open and felt Shiro slow, felt Shiro try to press him closer to his chest, a comfort that Lance took in greedily.

"Oh, our guests of honor have arrived." Lance stiffened at the sound of Haggar's voice, a whimper building in his throat. He wished Shiro had enough arm span to cover him completely, to stop the druid from looking at him like he knew she was.

"What is the meaning of this, Haggar?" Shiro asked. Shiro hadn't lost any of the strength behind his words since their capture, and Lance admired him for it. Admired his unshakeable strength.

"Remove the blue one from the champion," Haggar said, completely ignoring Shiro's question.

Lance soothed a hand over Shiro's tensed jaw-It's okay- and Shiro loosened his arms. Not a second later, Lance was grabbed by the arm and thrown to the ground, away from Shiro. He didn't move from where he lied.

"Lance!" Shiro yelled. He heard a shuffle and a grumble from Shio, "Let go of me!"

Lance heard Haggar click her tongue, "Quiet him."

Lance lifted his head in worry, only able to hold it up long enough to meet Shiro's eyes as Shiro was muzzled. His head dropped back down, the muffled sounds of Shiro's protests the only noise he found himself able to focus on.

Lance was grabbed roughly by his arm and brought to his knees to face Haggar but his eyes stubbornly did not lift, not even as she grabbed his chin and jerked his head up. He received a harsh smack across the face for his troubles and he tried his best to ignore the pained sound Shiro made behind him. He lifted his eyes to meet Haggar's disgusting yellows ones and she smiled, pleased.

"That's it," She crooned, "I prefer people to be looking at me when I speak. Now, look over there," She jerked his chin to the side to look at the large pool sat in the middle of the room, gleaming blue. "doesn't that look refreshing?"

He didn't give a reply, but Haggar didn't seem to be waiting for one. "Sit them over there," she pointed to the wall closest to the pool's edge.

Once more, lance was grabbed and, due to his inability to stand, his knees were scraped against the concrete as he was dragged to the wall and thrown down. He only managed a weak groan as his head hit the ground, black dotting his vision. Shiro was plopped down right next to him and immediately Shiro moved to cover Lance as best he could.

"How sweet," Haggar said in a coo, "always eager to jump to the blue one's protection, aren't you? Well, maybe it's his turn to protect you, hm?"

Lance opened his eyes only to glare at her, suspicious of what she had planned.  "I thought we could play a game, today," Haggar said. Lance's stomach dropped with dread.

Haggar walked over to one of the Galra who had dragged Lance over and promptly pulled his blaster out of its holster. Shiro stiffened and Lance heard him suck in a sharp breath.

Lance felt horror creeping up his throat, setting his nerves afire as she moved to stand where she was, blaster in hand. She waved it around as if it wasn't a dangerous weapon, as if it were a mere children's toy. "Oh, you both look so worried. No need, this game is quite simple, you see."

Her lips curled up into a cruel and crooked grin, "Neither of you look very excited, don't you want to know the rules?"

Neither of them spoke. Shiro for obvious reasons, but Lance's vocal cords had seized at the sight of the blaster, vicious thoughts running through his head as he pondered what it would be used for.

It wasn't that hard to guess, someone was going to get shot and Lance couldn't move so it was going to be Shiro--

Haggar waved her hand and Shiro was abruptly pulled away from Lance, his eyes locked onto the weapon and his jaw visibly tense. Lance felt horribly exposed, but at least this way he was sure Shiro wasn't going to get shot.

Hopefully.

"Now, blue paladin the rules are simple, are you listening?" She paused for a second and once his eyes had met hers, she continued. "Good. Now, I'll give you two choices. Either you take this gun and shoot yourself in the head, forcing your dear black paladin to witness the gruesomeness your merciful death, or..."

Shiro had started yelling angrily, but Lance couldn't make out any words through the blood rushing in his ears, the anxiety forming a well in his belly.

Haggar stepped aside, letting Lance see a clear view of the sparkling blue water behind her, "...you can jump into this pool willingly and meet a painful death by the element you were made to dominate. You could choose to do neither, of course, but," she pointed the blaster at Shiro and Lance swore his heart stopped, "your black paladin will meet an... unfortunate end in your stead."

Shiro started yelling in earnest and, instead of looking annoyed, she waved her hand at the Galra holding Shiro, "Take his muzzle off, allow them to decide together. It will be the last thing they ever do as a team, after all, let them enjoy it."

The muzzle is taken off and Shiro leaned forward as much as is captors would allow, tears brimming in his eyes as he said, "Please, lance, don't do this."

The threat of Shiro's life had given Lance some strength and he pushed himself upon weary arms, ignoring how they screamed. Tears were already spilling down his cheeks and he found himself unable to say more than, "I'm sorry, Shiro."

"No, Lance, please." Shiro's voice sounded congested. "I need you. The team needs you."

Lance shook his head, tears dripping down on the concrete while his face remained blank. "No, Allura can fly the blue lion, Shiro, you...you don't need me. I'm the least talented of all the paladins, you...you guys will be better off without me."

"No, that isn't true. Please, lance, think about what you're doing," Shiro pleaded. "The team will fall apart. Think about Hunk!"

Lance smiled bitterly and he finally made himself meet Shiro's eyes. He almost crumbled at the sight of the man's tears, but he held steady. "You'll be okay. You were okay before me, Hunk was okay before me, you'll be okay after me, I promise."

"No, Lance-!"

Lance ignored whatever he had to say and met Haggar's eyes evenly, "Promise...promise that you'll let him go back to Voltron if I do this."

Haggar's lips pulled up into a sharp, greasy grin, "Since this is a special occasion, I will accept your terms. The black paladin will be released the second my medic deems the deed done. You have the empire's word."

"She's lying-!"

Lance gave a single nod and stood on shaky legs. He took two short steps to Shiro and nobody stopped him- he probably wasn't enough of a threat, not with the way he shook- and he fell before Shiro who looked panicked and worried and scared.

Maybe Lance did deserve this, if only for putting that look on his face. He grasped Shiro in a brief hug, "I'm sorry. I love you. Tell the team I love them. Tell my parents."

"Lance you don't have to--" Shiro started to ramble, but Lance cut him off.

"Please," He said sharply. He softened his voice, "Please."

Shiro swallowed visibly, sweat beading on his temple and dripping down, intermingling with his tears. He shook his head, "No, Lance, you can't."

"I can," Lance said softly. "Let me protect you, just this once."

Lance stood and met Haggar's eyes, she offered up the gun but he shook his head, he couldn't make Shiro watch that, he had enough trauma and the last thing he needed to see was Lance's innards splattered across the walls etched into his memory forever.

Soon, he stood at the edge of the pool, looking into the clear blue water, and he couldn't help the rueful smile that pulled at his lips.

Home came to mind as he looked down into the water. The water had always been home--

(-The waves, the beach, the sun, his sisters, joy-)

--And Lance couldn't help but think that it was fitting for him to succumb to the element, if not ironic.

He turned on his heel and met Shiro's eyes, casting him one last smile before he took a deep breath and let himself fall. Shiro's cry was the last thing he heard before water plunged around him, filling his ears and deafening him.

He hadn't held his breath and the cool liquid flooded his lungs almost instantly. His eyes stung as he kept them open, and he wished he could see the sun instead of the synthetic lights overhead, but he could, at the very least, be glad that he died in the soothing embrace of what he loved rather than bleeding out on a cold, sterile table.

Will you hate me in your last moments? The waves ask.

No, Lance thought, I love you too much.

In the back of his mind, he felt Blue prodding frantically, and he smiled. Blue loved Allura, they would mesh better than she and Lance ever had, he was sure.

Fight or flight kicked in and as Lance started to struggle he could barely make out Haggar looking into the water above him as his vision started going dark, taking joy in watching him die.

It hurt, dying, but if it allowed Shiro to live, he would go through it for an eternity.

His head went numb without oxygen and soon he could see no longer, feel no longer.

He let himself succumb, let his soul guide itself home.

Atlantis.

[theycallme-tunathot]

What the Fates Will Allow || [Part 2.]

Seokjin, son of Hestia

Synopsis: Jin’s rising star for being featured on the front page of the zine doesn’t mean he can neglect his gardening. After all, he puts his pants on one leg at a time, just like everyone else. Author’s Note: I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I really enjoyed writing this. Don’t hesitate to drop some feedback in my inbox, I’m always down to hear it. Gif credit is here.

“So? Eat less and don’t eat after 8 p.m.”

“Hey, you’re face looks familiar.”

Jin wasn’t sure how many times he heard that line over the last three days, but no matter the frequency, it made him glow. Every time he heard it, his ears would perk up and his eyes would sparkle as he turned his attention to the person.

“I’ve been here a while so, you may have seen me around,” he would say meekly. 

But he knew that was the biggest lie he was comfortable telling. Jin knew why his face was so familiar to so many people around the compound this week. Thanks to Hobi who begrudgingly wrote up a story on the approval of the fruit orchard, his picture was splashed across the front page of the zine. And sure, most people were buzzing about the missing Hades recruits, but his face was the only other human face on the page. People were bound to notice him more this week.

Despite his rising fame, Jin wanted to at least retain his old routine. No matter how much accolade he would receive for his communal vegetable garden or the fruit orchard, he couldn’t neglect the care he put into them in the first place. The plants would need water regardless of how many people stopped him to ask about his face.

So as he stooped down in the center of the tomato plants in the communal vegetable garden, he sighed contentedly. With all the welcomed attention, he liked the idea of this semblance of normalcy. Plants didn’t radically change or judge. They gave as much as the reaper and sower put in--nothing more, nothing less. Truly inspiring really, when he really thought about it.

All his life Jin spent his free time growing things. Before he even heard the news about being a demigod, he would beg his father to allow him a few potted plants in his room. I can grow food we can use, he tried to argue. Over a span of four years, Jin successfully wore his father and stepmother down and received an abundance of planters in assorted sizes, seeds of various plants and a beginner’s guide to gardening.

Soon, his plants became too big and less practical for a room, so he convinced his father to allow him a greenhouse. A tiny little space in the backyard is all he needed. But soon he became enchanted with other aspects of plants. Flowers and medicinal herbs soon became equally as interesting as the food he grew.

People said he was a little too obsessed with plants, but he’d beg to differ. Not enough people were obsessed with plants in his humble opinion. They gave so much to people, but most couldn’t even begin to fathom how little they gave back to plants.

“Hey Green Thumb,” Jin heard, breaking him from his steady rhythm of trimming.

Searching for the direction of the voice, Jin’s eyes locked in on a familiar frame. A glistening arm went up to shield his face from the sun as he squinted to get a better look at the person’s face.

“Hobi, you know how much I love that nickname.”

Pretending to be let down, his smile remained as he weaved his way through the various vegetables.

“I keep forgetting that you like to be called Green Thumb,” he mused aloud. “How does Soil Boy sound? Get it? It’s because you’re dirty a lot, but you also work with soil--”

“I get it, it’s just not funny.”

“Oh forgive me, I almost forgot how funny you never were.”

Jin gave an exasperated sigh. He didn’t like when people joked about his humor. While the son of Hestia knew it was his fate to live the rest of his life in a garden, something he was perfectly fine with, he knew he was funny. In fact, everyone knew he was funny. That’s why people always laughed around him.

The eldest laughed with ease, “You’re calling me Green Thumb, but clearly someone else is green.”

Hobi gave out a snarky laugh. “Me? Jealous? Of what?”

“Me and my jokes.”

“What jokes Jin? My grandpa has better jokes and he’s dead.”

“You always say that your grandpa is funnier, but how can I know that if he’s dead? That’s the most useless argument.”

“You know, there was a reason I was visiting, but you’ve angered me so, I don’t even think I can remember now.”

Jin only laughed, looking at the younger demigod. “You mean you weren’t here to see my beautiful face in person? I have to say I look good in print, but you have to admit the real thing is better right?”

It was almost instantaneous how quickly Hobi shook his head, amused.

Hobi was the first real friend Jin made at the compound. Sure, Jin was probably the longest resident and recruit here but he didn’t make friends easily. His personality was too nurturing, too unconditional to allow for genuine friendships to bloom. Regardless of whether anyone intended to be his friend or not, if they needed help, he was more than happy to oblige. It was just in his nature.

So far, Hobi was one of the few people around the compound who didn’t ask for favors. Most people wanted his knowledge on homemade remedies and natural skincare, an ear to vent or wondered if he was in the middle of brewing a pot of tea--the list of things Jin could provide seemingly endless. But not Hobi. The guy just seemed interested in talking to someone who wasn’t obsessed with bringing up their immortal parent every two minutes.

Standing up, Jin decided he needed a break. Unceremoniously, the tall demigod wiped the sweat pooling at his hairline with the back of his arm.

“So, how’re things going? I’m sure you didn’t walk all the way across campus just to see this handsome face--your loss really.”

“I told you, never mind,” Hobi said as he thumbed the leaf of a tomato plant.

“Then why are you still here?”

The orange-haired guy shrugged, glancing back at him before returning his gaze to the slightly damp soil beneath his feet. The silence only dragged on as Jin continued to stare at Hobi for what felt like a lifetime. He was hoping he could wear him down and get Hobi talking. His friend was never one to just drop in without purpose. 

He also never thought his purpose was so inane as to completely abandon it once he arrived, no matter how goofy Jin was acting that day.

Before their conversation could comfortably continue, they were interrupted by a someone who entered the vegetable garden.

“Um, Seokjin--”

“You can just call me Jin,” the demigod replied, the wind ruffling his brown hair into his eyes slightly.

“Sorry. Jin, some people told me you’re the person to go to for herbal medicines.”

Jin’s mouth twisted to the side, lips pursed. “Who said that?”

“Kwangsu.”

“I told you that asshole would say something,” Hobi said, his tone so I-told-you-so that Jin groaned loudly, eyes squeezed shut as he tilted his head back.

Turning to face the visitor, Hobi addressed the girl directly. “Kwangsu is mistaken.”

“No, he got that stomach ache remedy from you.”

“And how can you be so sure?” Jin asked, titling his head to the side as he looked at the visitor.

“The infirmary gives you actual medicine.”

“Excuse me!” Jin said, his voice booming over the vegetable garden as he gave the girl an incredulous look. “I’ll have you know that medicinal herbs are just as effective and just as real as the chemically manufactured shit biscuits they call pills.”

The girl only grinned in response as Hobi watched in stunned silence as his friend ratted himself out.

“It’s a good thing you don’t have a big mouth Jin,” Hobi responded before looking back at the girl. “What the fuck are you looking for?”

“I’m having bad indigestion.”

“So? Eat less and don’t eat after 8 p.m.”

The girl only scowled at Hobi. 

In all seriousness, Jin wasn’t supposed to be giving out medicinal herbs--hell, he never got the okay to grow them. But in the Hestia cabin, in his little room, he had so many medicinal herbs growing, he had to find a way to get rid of the fully grown herbs to make room for the new ones. Anyone injured or sick on the compound was supposed to get any medication or treatment from the infirmary, but the few who knew of Jin’s capabilities would seek him and his medicinal herbs out.

“I need medicine,” the girl reiterated to Jin even though her eyes were set on Hobi.

“Are you deaf? He said he doesn’t--”

“What are you symptoms?” Jin interrupted Hobi.

“I told you, it’s indigestion.”

“I know, but sometimes that can be a misdiagnosis on your part and I don’t want to give you herbal medicine that doesn’t treat what you have.”

The girl stuttered out a few symptoms, her tone sounded unsure and questioning. And that’s when her facade began to break down and Hobi shook his head, folding his arms over his chest.

“You Dionysus recruits are so full of shit,” Hobi replied, making Jin’s eyes widen.

“Hobi--”

“When’s the big party then?”

The girl tried to pass off a confused look but as Jin squinted his eyes, focusing on her, he could see she was unsure of how to lie about needing his herbal medicines.

“I don’t know what you mean,” she stuttered out, her eyes sliding from Hobi to Jin and then back to Hobi.

The Hermes recruit sighed deeply, unamused and unimpressed.

“You act as if I haven’t written a story on this before. I know you’re trying to get wormwood herbs out of Jin.”

“What!” she shouted. “Why? Why would I do that?”

Jin felt his eyebrows furrow deep on his forehead as he looked her over. “Because wormwood herbs, when concentrated, can make absinthe.”

Jin didn’t know much about absinthe, but he knew with a bottle of hard alcohol, some wormwood and 26 hours, the Dionysus recruits would have a full-blown absinthe beverage available for a party--something that has happened before, thanks to having the herb on hand to treat digestive problems and menstrual cramps.

Instead of feeling upset or angry that the girl would lie, he almost felt sorry to have to turn her away. “I’m sorry...I can’t actually help you out. Those herbs are only used for medicinal purposes, besides the amount I give out now wouldn’t be enough for you to make absinthe. It only really works for three cups of tea.”

The girl’s expression drastically changed from mild confusion and extreme uncertainty to desperation. Jin, for a solitary moment, felt bad. If he could help, he would. But after the fiasco last time he gave out copious amounts of wormwood herbs and the fact that he wasn’t given the go-ahead for any of this, the risk wasn’t worth it. Especially for a girl he hardly knew.

“I can’t go back empty-handed.”

Hobi gave an unimpressed huff, “Not his problem, I’m afraid.”

Without another word, she turned around and timidly left the vegetable garden.

“I swear I hate Dionysus recruits--they’re such assholes,” Hobi complained.

“Hobi--”

“That girl was about to pretend like she was sick to get wormwood herbs off of you.”

“But still, you were kind of harsh don’t you think?”

Hobi gave a blank stare, blinking twice before shaking his head. “I could’ve said a lot worse than that.”

“Trust me, I know,” Jin quickly added. “Are you sure nothing is bothering you that you want to talk about? Is that why you showed up?”

The orange-haired demigod rolled his eyes as he quarter-turned away from Jin. “Didn’t you listen to me earlier? I said nevermind. Besides, don’t you have food to shove into your face? I know it’s been at least five minutes since your last big meal.”

It was a well-known fact about Jin. He ate well. No matter what he was doing or how busy he got, Jin would eat regardless. But this was obviously a deflection tactic Hobi enlisted to get his nurturing friend to change the subject.

Jin gave one of his knowing looks, the kind that really ate at Hobi’s patience. After all, Hobi wanted to keep as much distance as he could from that prying stare Jin could perfectly deliver anytime he felt like someone was hiding something from him. Just as Hobi swore he wouldn’t crack, he could feel the mounting stress and realized that he came here because the last few days hadn’t been the most comfortable.

He needed someone to talk to.

“What’s your mom like?”

The question was so abrupt Jin hesitated for several seconds, trying to process something he never heard Hobi question or talk about.

Glancing at his friend, Jin could see something was bothering him. Was that really why he asked such a question?

“You never ask--”

“I know, I know,” Hobi said, holding a hand up as his friend’s eyes scanned the vegetable garden. “Someone asked me about mine and I just…”

“Everyone asks each other about their parents though,” Jin pointed out, trying to remind Hobi of why he chose to hang around Jin most of the time.

Hobi shook his head, “This wasn’t just someone--bad wording on my part.” For a few seconds, Hobi looked deep in thought. Jin was starting to feel worried before he finally said something. “Director Yoo asked a question about him. It just had me thinking is all…”

Jin’s face softened considerably. At least five days passed since his meeting with Director Yoo about his Hades block story and of all the things they discussed, it seemed only one thing left its mark with his orange-haired friend. Hobi wasn’t usually like this though, Jin contemplated. He was the best out of everyone around the compound with his parental issues. In fact, one could argue Hobi was strangely accepting of the idea of never meeting his father.

“He doesn’t owe me a visit or anything else, does he?” he said during their first conversation.

But at the moment, it looked like not knowing him was burrowing under Hobi’s skin.

“She was soft,” Jin stated, his voice growing thinner as he contemplated the memory. “The softest I ever felt. She was the mom I always wanted but never had.”

Jin could almost see her now. The soft glow that seemed to radiate from somewhere deep inside of her. The way she touched his cheek and said his name, her voice as smooth and rich as warm honey. It was like she was proud of him, but he couldn’t even remember what there was to be proud of.

“That moment can last a lifetime,” he continued with a gentle smile. “I could never see her again and that would be alright because in that one moment she was the greatest thing I’d ever seen.”

Life wasn’t always easy for the happy-go-lucky guy. He grew up with a mom who was always spiteful of him. He wasn’t her child but she was expected to take care of him as if he were. His father never seemed motivated to step in when the verbal abuse from his “mother” became too much, which led to the guilt that gave him the greenhouse and the endless supply of funds for Jin to continue taking care of plants and the garden. The greenhouse was the only place he could truly escape to. He was picked on at school, hated at home and ignored by his dad.

Despite the mistreatment from the woman he had to call mom, Jin didn’t hate her. No, how could he really? When she married his father, his father promised she wouldn’t have to raise Jin. But when his son turned out to be soft, gentle-hearted, kind, nurturing and everything his father couldn’t deal with, his father pushed for his new wife to raise him.

So when Jin found out one day after passing out in the greenhouse that he was connected to something higher than the ever-growing obsession with plants, he felt changes. He felt different. He could almost feel the earth and the plants around him. Was that even the right word? It wasn’t like the plants talked to him--that made no sense. But he could feel them, empathize with their struggles or rejoice in their blooming happiness in the sun. All he ever wanted to do after that moment was take care of the people around him, something he felt most of his life but never did because he felt like he didn’t know how. Now he did. 

Things made sense all of a sudden. And that’s when his true mother visited. In all her beautiful glory, she explained how much potential he truly had and how much she mourned that she couldn’t be by his side everyday. Although she couldn’t be there for him, she did say she was always watching him. And that made Jin feel somewhat complete.

So someone did care, he thought to himself. It was enough to help him endure the trashiness of his life, the daily reminder that he wasn’t worthy of his “mom’s” love, the silence from his father and the teasing from kids at school. He could withstand it all now that he was certain someone actually cared about what he did in life.

It was this completeness, this satisfactory high that Jin wished everyone could feel.

Hobi gave a half-smile, one that crept into the different crevices of his face, but never really settled in his eyes.

“She sounds lovely.”

The smile on Jin’s face only became softer, “She is.”

“How often does Hestia visit?”

In response, the demigod’s broad shoulders bobbed up in a shrug as he looked over the garden. “I don’t really keep up with it, but I think a few times a year,” he answered. “It seems kind of random to me.”

This was the truly cruel reality about being a demigod. It wasn’t fair, in Jin’s opinion. Some saw their parents frequently while others went their entire lives without ever meeting them. It just didn’t seem right to have a kid, dump them into the world and never visit.

Being a demigod wasn’t always this hard or easy depending on the individual, but there was always an emptiness before one found out. Everyone started with a void that could easily swallow them whole, but the void got smaller for Jin when Hestia first visited. He couldn’t imagine how large some people’s voids became with the lack of contact with their deity parent.

This made Jin wonder just how big the void was for Hobi.

“Do you ever want to meet Hermes?” the taller demigod asked, stooping once again to prune a few of the potato plants.

As Hobi thought about his reply, he looked over the entire garden. “Some days I do, other days I don’t see the need. It’s not like it’ll change much of anything.”

“That’s where I think you’re wrong,” Jin retorted.

“Enlighten me then.”

“I’m not saying it’ll be true for you, I’m just saying meeting your dad might change a few things.”

“Will I still have to work out of the mail room?”

“You know you could’ve asked to work with travel arrangements for missions right?”

Hobi rolled his eyes. “This is exactly why I hate talking to you sometimes, you don’t get it.”

Jin only laughed in response, amused at how annoyed his friend was.

“And what’s not to get? You got to choose from the mail room, travel arrangements and travel documents and you chose the mail room.”

“I don’t want to be stuck on this compound forever,” Hobi countered, finally looking down at his broad-shouldered friend. “What use am I on the compound if I don’t actually go on missions or do much of anything that’s worth doing?”

“I’ve never left the compound, and look how meaningful my work is.”

“I’m not saying I don’t do anything meaningful, I just want to go on missions, help out. I didn’t inherit athleticism from my dad for nothing.”

“But you get to use that in intramural sports.”

Jin was meant to help, but Hobi was only feeling worse about his position now. The only place he got to use his speed and agility was with an intramural basketball team made up of Zeus kids who just loved to boast about being the offspring of the king of the gods.

“And you don’t see anything wrong with that statement,” Hobi said, shaking his head.

Off in the distance, Jin heard his name being yelled. Someone was running toward them, someone who looked oddly familiar. As she got closer, Jin stood, recognizing her immediately.

“Y/N?” Hobi asked, stating the very question Jin had.

By the time she came to a full stop, Jin was looking her over. Skin flushed from all the running, she was hunched over, breathing heavily and doing everything in her power to steady herself again.

“I just saw you yesterday. Did the tea not work?” Jin asked, worried that something was wrong.

When Y/N finally looked up, Hobi and Jin both looked worried. There was a fear in her eyes that both could sense. Something must’ve been wrong.

“It’s Hades block.”

Hobi immediately jumped in, grabbing the reporter notebook he carried in his back pocket at all times and sliding the pen from between the wire ream. “What about Hades block?”

“Someone was just taken.”

Masterlist