#it’s crack in that it’s not serious because i can’t find any supporting evidence for it

[keepoffthetardis]

did i already tell you guys that my crack theory for only murders season 3 is that they murder on the orient express-d ben glenroy

[chil2de]

Your sharing a bed with the JJK men hc's were incredible 😩 special mentions for Megumi's bed head, Nanami being a secret cuddle bug, and Yuuta having to drink both iced coffees (that fucking sent me fjdndnfd I could picture it so clearly).

You're super talented so could I, er, possible get a NSFW version? 👀 💳💥💥💥💳💳💥💳💥

Thank you so much 🥺💕

hello anonie!!! thank you dear i’m so glad you liked them!! please the credit card emojis had me cackling LMFAOOOO you really made my whole day out here!!!(THE ICED COFFEE WAS MY FAVOURITE PART TOO)

well i managed to hit the max amount of characters allowed in a tumblr post with five characters alone so i’m going to have to split this up into several posts. it just kinda happened ig

characters in this post: itadori yuuji, gojo satoru, okkotsu yuuta, fushiguro toji (megumi was supposed to be here but i had to reserve him for next post😔)

this work is nsfw. if you’re new here, please read my disclaimer before proceeding. thank you and enjoy!

based off of this post

itadori

- itadori would prob be a ‘deer in the headlights’ if you woke him up in the middle of the night

- but after that? shit, he’s so nice to you. so kind and generous for his baby girl. whether he’s fucking you ‘cause he thinks you might be able to sleep after an orgasm or there’s just an incessant desire for him- doesn’t really matter all that much to itadori. he loves you either way :)

- gets horny so easily LMFAO

- would 100% dick you down if you asked him to and i like to think that he still keeps his really sweet personality during sex cause aaaa he would be so soft and reassuring

- hardcore dom yuuji sounds sexy as all hell but let’s be real… this man won’t kill a fly and apologises for stepping on ants. only exception being angry sex but overall reserving hard dom for sukuna :)

you pepper tiny kisses onto itadori’s face, treating him with the utmost care like handling fine china. his skin feels so soft against your lips, and he smells very faintly of milky soap. there’s some traces of brand cologne on his shirt, as well as his natural scent.

“yuuujiii-“ you coo, blowing air very gently. when he doesn’t stir, you run your fingertips through a bundle of his cotton candy tainted hair. it evokes a reaction from him, so you continue to press him.

“y-uuuu-ji!”

after a few moments, itadori lets out a soft whine before grumbling incoherent blabber. “i won’t eat the pineapple! kugisaki will scream at me!”

you giggle before prodding him again, when finally he relents and jolts awake, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted at how close your face is to his.

“‘s it morning yet?” he wrinkles his nose, stifling a yawn. you emit a hum in thought before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling you into him. itadori squeaks in surprise when he feels you latch your lips onto his neck, suckling and carefully breaking the bonds underneath his sensitive skin. his moan comes out groggy, still laced with sleep.

“that drives me crazy, you know that, right?” itadori laughs, though his voice comes as a wobble.

“i know. and they look so good on you too, hm?” you giggle, caressing one hand from his neck and then down to the hem of his shirt. your fingertips flutter against his bare skin and he shivers physically and audibly. you smooth your palm flat along his chest, dragging your nails carefully against his muscles.

“kinda.. wanna.. go to.. sleep.. but i don’t.. wanna fall asleep…” itadori mumbles against his pillow. the fabric muffles most of it, but there’s a strain in his voice that leads you to believe he’s moaning lightly. guess after sukuna ripped his heart out, this area hasn’t been quite the same, huh?

“so? then go to sleep, yuuji. i’ll be fine-“ “-no way! i gotta take care of you”

“so why don’t you?”

“‘m going to! i was asleep just half a minute ago!”

“and besides-“

he shifts himself up into a sitting position, leaning his back against the headrest. itadori opens his arms, motioning for you to crawl on top of him. without any haste, you clamber over his built frame, ghosting just over the print of his hard dick.

“not that i mind but- we did, you know, in the morning already-“ “oh, shit, sorry- it’s totally fine if you don’t want t-“ “-just messing with you!”

itadori pulls your neck down and gifts you with the same treatment you were offering him earlier. his tongue is hot and wet against your skin and you can already feel the precipitation forming at the back of your knees. calloused yet tender hands smooth around your waist and he smooths his palms over your shoulder blades.

after itadori’s satisfied with the mark he left, you can’t help but groan a little into his mouth when his lips suddenly claim yours. he drinks you up, relying solely on your taste like he’s drowning and you’re the air he needs.

itadori takes his sweet time cherishing you, or rather it’s still his state of half slumber, but you can feel a dull ache prick your abdomen. you scratch up his shirt, motioning for him to take it off. you’re unsure what comes over you, but shit, you don’t want him- you need him.

“heyheyhey, ‘s okay. don’t worry, i got you.”

“i’ll take care of you.”

“just relax, okay? i got this.” he only coos with sweet reassurances, peppering small kisses and handling you with the utmost precision.

you whimper, balancing your palms flat against his abdomen for additional support as you sink down onto itadori’s cock. he lets out a hum of content, forehead bumping against yours as he allows you to adjust.

“you good?” he murmurs after a few moments, capturing a few strands of your hair in between his fingertips. you nod meekly and itadori hisses out a breathy exhale. he’s sure that if he goes rough as shit you might end up more broken than being able to sleep, so he screws his eyes shut and exhales to maintain his composure.

blazing hot lips scrape against your ear, and his voice comes out in a husky tone.

“tell me how you want it.”

by the lords of everything and all that is holy, itadori only chants the same phrase over and over in his mind. it’s a miracle that he’s able to think straight with all the blood rushing to his cock. he’s more than happy to take it slow, reward you with slow and long strokes while he showers you with high praises. but he can’t ignore the twitch that he experiences when he envisions that pretty lil fucked out face of yours, all messy and ruined for him.

you mutter that you have no preference, that you don’t care because anything he’ll do for you is perfect, and it only gives him a beaming smile at your words.

itadori grabs the scrunched up ball of his shirt that he was wearing before ripping the fabric into half with his bare teeth. you watch his eyebrows perk when he notices how fucking hot you just found that, evident with the way your walls fluttered around him.

“here, babe.”

you part your lips and he stuffs the fabric into your mouth, there’s a little bit of excess hanging out, but he reminds you that you look sexy as hell either way, on top of his dick like that with your hands on his chest, legs spread, face flushed and ready for him.

“don’t wanna be wakin’ anyone else up.”

yuuta

this man is about to end my whole career

yuuta wouldn’t bring it up on his own accord just because… respect.. and he doesn’t want to pressure you or make you uncomfortable into doing things you’re not ready to.

it’s kind of a gray area for him because he doesn’t relish the idea of bringing up sensitive and/or extremely awkward topics so he really said ‘i’ll leave it up to future me’s problem’

but holy shit. let me absolutely tell you.

the second you hint at it? anything of the sorts? 0 to 100. he is FREAKY you cannot tell me he’s innocent just LOOK at the man

can make you scream with ease. all that practice he’s been doing with handling katanas? he doesn’t need his dick to make you cum. will gladly lick up your leftover juices and remark with a smile on his face how ‘it tastes good, angel’

similarly to itadori, i think he would be sweet and patient when asking for your preferences, etc, but after that you’re gonna have to find something to bite onto

“and? what’d you tell her?” yuuta remarks from over his fanned out deck of three cards. his gaze flickers to you as he awaits a response before using his index and middle finger to lay down a +4 card.

“red, by the way.”

you huff and glare at your boyfriend, picking up four cards and attempting to hold them in such a way that they don’t all fall and rattle to the floor. truth be told? you’re seriously a sore fuckin’ loser. you don’t know how he does it, but you’ve never managed to win a game against yuuta.

“i told maki-san that it’s her problem, not mine. if she’s so pressed about people taking them, why does she keep noodles stored in the fridge? really, noodles in the fridge? they’re really spicy as well! made my nose run like hell.” you scoff in distaste, throwing down a random red card on the pile.

“you totally ate them didn’t you?” yuuta giggles, beaming you a wide smile.

“also.. told her that i didn’t see them instead but- yeah.”

“aren’t you worried she’ll find out? oh, and, uno.”

“she might just beat me up to be honest, and, uno, you say? not anymore, love.” you sneer, throwing down a +4 card.

“i want green.”

“i’d protect you.” yuuta states over his cards. you feel like cracking a joke and laughing, but there’s absolutely zero implication on his facial features to show that he’s joking. that, and his serious tone, of course.

you flip your cards down onto the table and yuuta squeaks, pointing towards them.

“uh- i can see your cards-“

“it’s okay, not like i was gonna win anyway.”

at this point, yuuta’s mind races a hundred miles an hour. he’s panicking, blood pressure raised, heart thumping and throat clogged. oh, shit, did he do something wrong? did he upset you? is it ‘cause he said he’d protect you with no regards to the fact that you’re perfectly capable of fending yourself off against maki? fuck, he’s such a god damn screw-up, can’t even take care of his girlfriend correct-

“hey.”

your fingertips slide around his neck, hands interlocking at the base of his head. your thighs balance on his lap and you straddle him, legs either side of his.

he can’t help but hitch his breath, holding it in as though one wrong move and you would dematerialise.

“what’re you thinking about in that head of yours?”

whether you’re referencing his mini panic attack just now, or if you’re referring to all the multiple times he’s battled just bending you over and railing the absolute shit out of you, there’s not much room for debate when you brush your clothed sex up against the print of his dick.

yuuta snakes his slender hands around your throat, holding it in place. you can feel the arousal pool and wash over you, and you’d be more than surprised if you hadn’t soaked through your clothes.

he lets out a breathy laugh, devastating your stomach with butterflies due to how attractive he sounds. yuuta’s soft lips brush the shell of your ear and his other hand moves to rest on your waist,

“why don’t i show you?”

before you can utter a tease something along the lines of “show me what? how you’re too scared to hit me in bed?” you’re already down, flipped over and bent over the table you and yuuta were using moments prior ago for uno. the cards have splattered all over the wooden floor and you only hiss in discomfort as the cool surface scratches against your delicate skin. your boyfriend towers over you, leaning down as his torso clicks into place against your back. even through his titanium white jacket, you can feel his calm and collected heartbeat. he rests his head on your shoulder, nudging his face into you.

“don’t scream, okay? or, try not to, at least-“

his warm fingertips ghost over the curve of your ass, where he pinches the skin there before delivering a loud slap. you squeak, back arching as you jolt from the action. he proceeds by grabbing the inside of your thighs, long middle finger hoisting around your underwear and pulling it to the side. he makes note of the red lingerie you’re wearing and gives you a small chuckle, peppering a kiss to the side of your face.

“-unless, of course-“

“-you’d prefer everyone hear me fuck you stupid.”

“safe word’s blue, angel. i love you and thank you.”

truth be told, you were never sure what to expect from yuuta. hell, you’d never really seen the man’s dick before, sure you caught glimpses in the morning whenever he’d wake up but it’s really not the same. nothing in the world can compare to the first time you felt his piping hot tip brush up against your slicked cunt. and it was embarrassing, actually, the way your pussy was seething for him already.

with a firm hold on your tailbone, yuuta utilises his lower body strength to ram his dick all the way inside. there’s a garbled and choked moan that hisses from you when you feel your walls wrap and deform around the girth of yuuta’s dick. you whine even more so when you can physically feel a thick vein that decorates his shaft.

“the mirror.” yuuta commands in a low tone, redirecting you to glance at the same mirror you’d always fantasised about him fucking you in front of.

his eyes are half lidded, riddled with concentration. it reminds you of that feral and focused gaze he gets during serious battles.

“don’t look at me. look here.”

you trail the outline of yuuta’s arm veins as a result of him rolling his uniform sleeves up; following his v line that points towards his dick. you can only gawk in awe when you realise you’ve taken him to the base of his shaft.

his gaze locks with yours for a split second and he snaps his hips out until just about his tip is visible inside your cunt.

and shit, if his pretty pink cock isn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, especially with that attractive curve. you’re sure the gesture is just to wind you up, but you can’t help but swoon at him showcasing his pride to you.

“so- mmhf- pretty-“ you whine, words jumbled and breath caught when he slams his dick inside without any prior warning. you can only shriek in exclamation when his tip bruises your cervix, and you’re unsure whether you lament the sensation or not.

he only gives you a cheerful hum, reminding you of his usual cheery disposition. it’s not until then that you realise how much of a fucking beast he’s acting right now.

“right? i’ll put it to good use, i promise.”

gojo

- i know we’re all thinking the same thing here lmfao

- trying to sleep? good for you, now, open your legs for satoru.

- oh you can’t sleep? atta girl, down on your knees for satoru.

- bye i can literally imagine gojo saying some dumbass shit like “think you were trying to sleep but i couldn’t help but think how good my dick would look down your throat like that. sorry, love, you’re not sleeping tonight.”

you blink your eyes in turn with the cicadas chirping aside, stifling a yawn. everything around you down to the very last detail screams at you to sleep, but you just cannot. from the pitch black night that floods the room obscurely, to gojo’s even and quiet breathing beside you. you’ve tried it all. you’ve counted an excess amount of sheep, you’ve tensed and relaxed your body more than you can remember. hell, no matter how many times you’ve flipped the pillow you always seemed to feel less exhausted each time.

you can’t watch netflix, because you’ve binged all your favourite shows. it’s not that you’d wake gojo up because, who cares? by the time you finish scrolling through the endless lists it’ll be time to get up.

you ponder over the things you can do, continuing to subconsciously blink furiously. that is until gojo makes note of your stupid actions and starts giggling like a high schooler at his first sleepover.

“what the hell are you doing?” he snorts, cackling into the pillow like it’s the best joke he’s heard for quite some time.

“shut up, satoru. i’m trying to sleep you ass.” you tut at him, berating him for ruining your divine concentration.

gojo audibly shifts onto his stomach, his right arm crosses over the back of his head as he lazily rests his palm onto his scalp. the other arm preoccupies itself by landing it smack bang onto your chest, fingers wandering up to cup your breast.

“satoru, huh? that’s daddy for ya” he remarks, still giggling in a state of half asleep.

“uh-huh. goodnight.” you dismiss him and his nonsense.

“just go take a shower. always helps me whenever i can’t sleep.”

“hm? you’re giving me actual good advice and being a normal boyfriend? i think i might be asleep already, this is the best dream ever.” you remark sarcastically, prying gojo’s glued wrist off of your breast and sitting up. you could go for a shower, actually. you’re not sure why but it’s always so therapeutic to take one at night rather than the morning.

“huuuh? how could you say that? you’re so mean, (y/n)-chaan! i offered you my love and the world and this is how you repay m-“

“-goodnight satoru. i love you.”

“don’t think professing your love for me will change my mind! i’m still upset at you right now, young lady!” gojo shouts from over his pillow, exclaiming and irritating you in the way he knows how to best.

“yeah, yeah. okay.” you mumble softly to yourself, bearing a wide grin from ear to ear nonetheless.

when you move to crank the water on in the shower, you realise that you didn’t bring along a change of clothes. you momentarily pop back into the bedroom to ransack the drawer for anything that you can find.

“are you back to apologise for being so mean to me?” gojo whines and you can see the pout evident on him even when it’s pitch black.

“no, i’m just here for clothes, satoru.”

you hear him mumble something but it’s muffled by the sheets he’s underneath so you don’t heed any attention to it and resume in taking a shower to help keep your insomnia at bay.

with a ginger step and a small ‘oopf’, you heave yourself into the large shower that only a headass like gojo would bother buying. it’s reminiscent to what a hot tub looks like on the inside, with surrounding jets practically in a full 360 degrees. the things so steep that there’s a small step up in front of the shower outside the actual structure. it must have cost quite the fortune.

you reach in for the built in shelf to grab ahold of some of your toiletries as you allow the water to fall in a gentle sprinkle, almost like rain. there’s an audible squeeze reminiscent to trying to get the last ounces of ketchup as you apply some body gel to your hands, lathering it up.

despite standing, the warmth of the water leads your muscles to feel less tense. the only noteworthy downside is that the running water is tremendously loud. how on earth is gojo sleeping through all that racket?

slender fingertips ghost over your inner thighs. you can feel his wet and sturdy chest in place against your spine.

“surprised to see me?”

“you know i can’t let my baby talk shit like that.”

really? that’s his issue at hand here?

“so which is it?”

“acting like an intolerant brat because you’re tired or ‘cause you wanna get dicked down?”

gojo loops his arm underneath your leg, bending it up. you almost topple over in the process and you lay one hand flat against the tile.

“don’t answer that. sometimes it’s so obvious that you’re such a whore for my dick.”

“huh?! what the shit are you saying?” you snap at how correct he is.

gojo yanks your face back, digging his fingers into your cheeks as he forces you to face him. it almost sends your neck into two pieces, straining to look back at him.

“oh, really princess? just the other day you were begging me to fuck you”

“remember that? couldn’t wait so you rode me in the car? you know, baby, all you gotta do is ask.”

your legs tremble and psyche wobbles when he pries your mouth open with his thumb, promptly before spitting into it.

“don’t bother with the bullshit. i’ll play the games, not you.”

he drags his hard cock against the curve of your ass, slapping it against you.

“i don’t think i feel like fuckin’ you right now.” gojo sneers, humming sardonically. his lips quickly latch onto yours when you spin around to meet his gaze. like the fucker he is, gojo moans and whines into the kiss- lips ravaging you whole and tongue capturing your essence.

“baby girl, i was gonna let you top me. you know i don’t let anyone do that.”

his long middle finger prods against your cunt, forcing itself in with ease.

“damn, you’re soaked. you really wanted to milk me dry that bad?”

you hate him. hate him so fucking bad. he flashes you that attractive smile of his, azure eyes sparkling and snow white hair disturbed with water.

gojo pulls his finger out before sucking onto it in front of you, lapping all the excess arousal off.

“i’m not playing with you tonight.”

toji

- i literally don’t even need to say anything here

- just be sure to make a hospital check up appointment or something

- um-i uh- please remember to breathe after this one? maybe touch some grass? ALSO my first time writing for toji AAA i hope he’s okay

maybe if you don’t breathe? nah, that wouldn’t work. there’s still air acting around your limbs when you move so you’d be disturbing the barriers there. let’s see… maybe bit by bit? surely if you slowly inched his shirt up? then again, wouldn’t toji chew you out halfway through? maybe you should just give it to him straight up? just slip your hand under his shirt. come on. but he looks so peaceful, sleeping like that.. long eyelashes fluttered closed, lips relaxed and not scowling. his eyebrows are softly arched. he looks so soft, lips parted, chest rising and falling with every breath.

fuck it. just do it. cuddle him already.

you muster up all your courage in one fell swoop and you bend one leg over toji, resting it just above his groin. your right arm sprawls out over his chest and your hand rests against his toned arm. he’s already sleeping with one arm bent up with his hand supporting the back of his head, so you utilise the free real estate to nestle your head in the crook of where his shoulder and collarbone meet.

when he doesn’t move after a while, you deem your life to be safe and exhale with ease.

“you’re not asleep.” toji states in a groggy, husky tone. it’s supposed to be a question, but, coming from him it almost sounds like a challenge.

“yes?” you squeak out meekly.

“‘yes?’ you asleep or not?”

“i can’t sleep again.” you murmur against his shirt and he exhales a small sigh. the arm that you’re clinging onto moves to draw small circles on your thigh that rests on toji.

“when’d you notice?” you inquire, glancing down at his large wrists.

“like five minutes ago. nice try, kid.” toji snorts indifferently, chuckling at your behaviour.

when you don’t make an effort to respond, toji’s interest peaks and he lets out a small hum of intrigue when he follows your gaze.

he turns his head, brushing his lips up against your temples.

“see anything interesting down there?”

“as a matter of fact-“

you nestle yourself in between toji’s large and built thighs, digits curling around the waistband of his boxers. he only smirks at you through the dark, cock twitching through the fabric. you notice toji hover his hips up so that you can slide his boxers off for him and you happily oblige.

“-i do.” you chime, licking your lips.

it’s cute, though, if you thought toji was gonna let you handle him like that all by yourself.

as you kiss a trail up his thick shaft, toji yanks ahold fistfuls of your hair before grabbing your face off of his cock.

“who said you could suck my dick? that’s real cute.”

“thinking you actually have a place in my house.”

“i didn’t train you to be such a depraved slut. know your fucking place, because this isn’t it.”

“how many times do i gotta tell you? you don’t belong here. look around. do you see anything that shows a woman lives here? no? that’s because you’re nothing but a fuck doll for me.”

toji hisses out profanities at the gag you spew when he slams your tiny little mouth back down on his dick.

“lose the teeth you imbecile. unless you’re trying to tell me that you can’t suck my dick properly.”

incessant whines and garbled sentences are muffled by toji’s cock. whatever remnants you had of your vision are nothing but a blur as tears stream your cheeks, nose running and sniffles resurface in a repeating pattern over the slick sounds of slurping and gagging. your mouth stretches as far as it can go and the corners of your lips shriek in despair. you can feel the skin there stretch and pull beyond what’s considered normal.

even through all that, you manage to glance up at toji through your water logged lashes. you’ll be a good girl for him. you need to be.

“fuuuck. that’s a pretty sight.” he grumbles and a deep chuckle resonates through his chest. within a few moments, toji fumbles to reach for something.

you can only wince and screw your eyes at the suddenly blinding flash of a light in front of you. one can only assume he’s taken a photo of you in your humiliating state.

you can feel the fear settle into your veins when that telltale ping of a message being sent vibrates throughout the room. if you were to listen hard enough, you could hear a notification go off in the next room over.

your throat feels raw, jaw tense and locked open. it’s been a good twenty minutes of toji face fucking you to teach you a valid lesson. it’s all in the will of him wanting to drag this on, savouring every miniscule slurp, whimper or gasp. when his strokes start to feel sloppier than usual, you can’t help but feel relieved.

as you squirm about due to toji shooting hot ropes of his thick cum down your throat, the door softly clicks open.

“megumi. you’re just in time.”

“she’s way more obedient than your mom ever used to be.”

[satendou]

⟼ some kind of disaster

⍣ all time low series | previous | next | 2/4

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: tendo/reader

⇢ au: atl!au, college!au

⇢ summary:  tendo knows he is, he was just waiting for you to figure it out  

⇥ masterlist

⇢ warnings: angst, breakups, akaashi being a good friend, semi being (maybeb too much of) an asshole

⇢ word count: 3496

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ a/n: 1) this is unedited. 2) i have a serious complex about this whole series now due to how well monster did, so i’m sorry if anyone is disappointed by this chapter.

i’m a liar i’m a cynic i’m a sinner, i’m a saint i’m a loser i’m a critic i’m the ghost of my mistakes and it’s all my fault that i’m still the one you want what are you after, some kind of disaster

They say falling in love is easy, it’s falling out of love that’s hard. What they fail to mention is how hard it is to still be in love even when you know it isn’t what’s best for you.

And right then, Tendo wasn’t good for you.

It had been several months since that first night and, though you had known it wouldn’t be easy, you had never expected it to be like it was. He had more issues than you could have imagined and a staunch refusal to talk about them. You had your guesses about why which you tried to understand, but the way he handled any small argument or misunderstanding in your relationship was unbearable and unhealthy.

Even now, he wasn’t speaking to you and it was tearing you apart. You weren’t even aware of what you had done because he wouldn’t tell you and you couldn’t for the life of you recall having done anything specific.

“Are you gonna do it today?” Akaashi asked, his words soft, full of understanding. The classical literature class you shared with him was over, and he hovered beside your chair waiting for you to gather your thoughts and your items up. He knew most of what had been happening with Tendo and sympathized because he also knew how enamored you had become with him. It was understandable-- you had been dating for a while, but he had seen a slow decline in your mood over the last few months. After the honeymoon period was over, he would guess, and the little issues that always crop up in relationships started to manifest. 

He recalled the night two weeks ago when you had come to him asking for advice, and it all poured out over takeout and wine. Even Bokuto, who always saw the bright side of things, remained in silent shock at everything happening behind the scenes.

You said he was never violent or angry or irrational. He would just...ignore you for hours or days on end, sometimes for things you couldn’t even determine, then come back like nothing had happened. If you did have an argument, no matter how small, he would just walk away without even trying to come to an agreement, then refuse to speak to you like normal until he decided he was done with that.

Akaashi’s heart broke for you as you sobbed into first your hands and then Bokuto’s shoulder, though he couldn’t refrain from smiling at Bokuto’s sympathy tears. His partner really was too cute for words.

Then you had spoken the dreaded words he was sure had been sitting in your throat for a lot longer than it had taken you to come to him.

“I think I’m going to break up with him.”

The relief that drew across your face as you said that was evident that you weren’t thinking about it, that you just needed support to go through with it. Of course, he and Bokuto were more than willing to give you that.

“I think so,” you murmured, taking your time packing up your stuff. The text you had sent at the beginning of class went unanswered, but marked that it was read two minutes after you sent it.

We need to talk.

It was too obvious what that meant and you were dreading the confrontation to come. You weren’t worried about him getting aggressive. In fact, you were pretty sure you knew how this was going to go down. Like every other argument, he was going to pretend it wasn’t happening and walk away.

The door was too loud when it opened, the students out in the hall too happy when Akaashi opened it. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw Tendo standing across from the door staring out the window with a pensive expression. Then it clenched with all the emotions you were feeling, good and bad and your head spun with anxiety. He looked so sad, his usually vibrant red eyes dull and blank as he watched whatever was going on in the quad.

“I’ll wait for you, okay?” Akaashi asked. You nodded absently, eyes still locked on Tendo. For most people, he would be afraid they were going to renege on their resolve and give into the false promises of change. But the change he had witnessed in you over the last few months and the quiet sadness in your softly spoken words a couple of weeks back had given him a different feeling. You would go through with it, and it was going to shatter you.

Tendo still didn’t look at you when you called his name and, if you had been wavering at all, that shut it down. But he followed you anyway, until you found a secluded spot down an empty hallway. 

You took a deep, stuttery breath. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked, and his voice was icy. He didn’t even seem to care about the tears starting to fall or the way you swiped them away. But it pierced his heart, knowing it was him that caused them, and he knew what was coming. He had known it would end this way the moment he fell for you. He had ended up hurting you just as he’d said he would, and yet he’d let it get this far anyway.

“I’m sorry for whatever it is I did this time. And I’m sorry, but-- I don’t think I can do this anymore,” you whispered, drawing him back to the present.

Silence followed those words. You still weren’t looking at him, so you missed the widening of those sleepy vermillion eyes you’d so come to love and the hands that caressed you so gently curling into fists at his sides.

He knew it, but couldn’t stop the surprise, even as the first crack appeared in his heart. “I-- What?”

It was so hard. Without meaning to, you had fallen in love with him, flaws and baggage and all. You should’ve known better. You had known it wouldn’t be easy to love him but it...it was so much harder than you had been expecting. Too much of your time was spent wondering what you had done to upset him this time and why he was ignoring you, because Tendo didn’t talk about his feelings with you. He left them on a back burner on high until they were so burnt they were unrecognizable, and when he was done being pouty he would seek you out and act like nothing was wrong.

There was no communication in your relationship-- if you could even call it that at this point. You couldn’t find a point to being together if every other day you had done something new to drive him away. It was taxing on you, your mental health plummeting because you were constantly worried about if something was wrong with you. It wasn’t until one of your other friends pointed out how different you were that you turned inward and discovered that particular truth.

You were struggling to keep it together by then, the pain in your heart and the tightness in your throat threatening to overwhelm you. You still hadn’t looked at Tendo. It was too hard-- you would never be able to get the words out if he was staring at you with hurt and confusion. 

Taking a steadying breath, you said, “I can’t fix you, Tendo. This-- This thing we have isn’t healthy, it’s-- we spend more time f-fighting than we do-- or you spend more time ignoring* me for things I-- I don’t even know why half the time and I’m constantly wondering what I’ve done--”

You stopped.

Your thoughts were racing in time with the throbbing pain in your chest and your voice had risen into a high-pitched, breathless mess and you couldn’t think. Breathing in deep, you closed your eyes, letting the tears fall as they may just to give you some relief from the pressure in your throat and once again you missed the look of fear on Tendo’s face.

He’d seen it coming. He had been expecting it for weeks, but didn’t know he would still be blindsided by it. It was his own fault, expecting you to chase after him and deal with his bullshit on your own. He knew it wasn’t fair, but every time he considered the alternative, he clammed up. Still, he wanted to reach out, to comfort you and tell you he would change, but he knew it wasn’t true.

His problems were deep rooted and it wasn’t his partner’s job to put him back together-- even he knew that.

So his nails continued to bite into his palms at his side as he let you spill every pent up emotion, just waiting for the final door to slam in his face.

“But it isn’t me,” you whispered, so quiet he almost missed it. At long last, you lifted your head up and met his eyes. Those beautiful red eyes that you often found yourself lost in were bright and clear and dead, not a trace of emotion anywhere in them. Like he didn't care, and that only made you cry harder. “I know it’s you and I can’t do it anymore. Everything you do makes me-- I’m not the problem, Tendo.” He flinched at the use of his surname and you ignored it. “I love you, you know that? I don’t know when or how, but I do know why. But I also know we aren’t healthy and this relationship is-- it isn’t a relationship. It just isn’t. I don’t know what it is but I--”

He swallowed as your shoulders fell. The words he wanted to say bubbled on his tongue and he bit them back. Hearing you say them now was a cruelty he knew he deserved after the way he’d been treating you, but he still wanted to lash out and break you like you had broken him. But as a last kindness for what you had given him, he only turned and walked away.

The silence that remained spoke volumes like the space that had developed between you, and you left as well, leaving everything behind.

Akaashi was waiting for you just around the corner from the hall, watching Tendo shove through the crowd and out of sight. His hand was warm against your cheek as he wiped away the lingering tears. For now, they had stopped, but he knew more would come.

It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, in some regards. The weight of your feelings for him still remained, and you knew they would take some time to slide off as well. Akaashi was watching you with kind sympathy, his quiet company a relief as you looped your arm with his, letting him lead you out into the warm spring air. It seemed almost cruel that the weather was so nice when you were so miserable, and a few more tears spilled. 

Guilt accompanied every breath that you felt so light following your breakup, but you knew it was for the best. Nothing good would come of remaining with Tendo when he was so mixed up-- you couldn’t make him happy if he couldn’t make himself happy, and vice versa.

Bokuto’s voice rang loud over the sound of the rest of the crowd, waving his hand above his head at the pair of you. 

“Shall we go get something to eat? And it’s Friday, you can stay with us, if you’d like,” Akaashi said, his voice soothing and melodic to your ringing ears. Suddenly you were more than grateful to have him and Bokuto in your life-- even if the latter was a bit obnoxious.

Like now, he was literally tugging you and Akaashi along behind him, talking nonstop about food, not listening to a word Akaashi was saying. But when you looked over to your friend, he didn’t look aggravated. He looked content and amused, staring at his partner with a soft fondness that made you almost jealous as you thought about when Tendou would look at you that same way.

There was a sharp pang in your heart as you realized he probably wouldn’t look twice at you again. Because that’s just how Tendou was. He ignored his problems and waited until they just went away. And you needed more than that.

i crashed down from a high that felt so real i never knew how much it would hurt to feel you gotta hurt sometimes to learn to heal you gotta get back up and learn to deal, yeah and it’s all my fault that i’m still the one you want

“You’re a fool, you know that?” Semi said. Though it was posed as a question, Tendo knew perfectly well that Semi was telling him what he already knew. As soon as Tendo had shown up in front of him, Semi had snapped that and he could only nod in agreement. “I always knew you’d do this. _____ was perfect for you but you--”

“I know, alright,” Tendou snapped, curling his fists into hands. It was almost impossible for him to hold back the tears that had been threatening to fall since he’d first gotten your text an hour and a half ago. Like the coward he was, he had ignored it and met you outside your class instead, a part of him hoping it would just go away if you saw him. But the hopelessness in your eyes when you had looked at him told him he wouldn’t get his wish this time. “I know I’m a fucking idiot, and _____ was always too good for me.”

A flash of your face and the echo of your words replayed in his addled brain.

“I don’t know what I’ve done this time.”

You hadn’t done anything. You had never done anything. He was a coward when it came to arguments but when he was ignoring you it wasn’t because of you.

It was him, all his fears bubbling to the surface and an attempt to push you away, to make you realize you were worth more than whatever he had to offer.

“Whatever we have is unhealthy.”

“It isn’t even a relationship.”

He was unhealthy, he knew he was, and it had driven you away from him. He only had himself to blame.

Semi huffed, watching Tendo closely. He was doing that blank thing he did to mask his feelings when he couldn’t handle them, turning into himself instead of applying the burden to someone else. He was sure he was doing it to you in your relationship too, and you probably didn’t understand because Tendo wasn’t being open. It was a vicious cycle, one Semi had seen too often. “I’m glad you realize, you idiot.” Then, more softly, he said, “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. I know you love her.”

Tendo flinched, his eyes closing.

*“I love you, you know that?”*

He would have said them back in a heartbeat, given the opportunity. He wanted so desperately to say them but the words had stuck in his throat, and the less selfish part of him knew it was for the best. The situation was already fucked up enough without him stirring it up more. Saying those words back would have hurt more than helped, especially because, deep down, he knew he wouldn’t change.

At least he could say he had done something right, in letting you go. 

You would flourish without him holding you back and weighing you down with all his problems and baggage.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

Semi’s voice cut through Tendo’s derogatory thoughts, and he flinched again. He hated that smug, all knowing tone even though he was usually spot on.

“Alright then, oh great oracle. What am I thinking?” he asked, shuffling along down the sidewalk towards their apartment. Trying to think of anything besides you, he tried to remember what was in their fridge to eat. Old pizza is all he could think of, from when you had come over and--

Nope.

Semi snorted at Tendo’s sad attempt at humor. Not that all of his attempts weren’t sad but his heart really wasn’t in it this time. “You’re telling yourself it was for the best and how you aren’t good enough and blah blah blah. You’re still an idiot.”

“Would you stop saying that?” Tendo asked, looking up to the sky. It was still early afternoon, the sky cloudless, the air pleasantly warm. If circumstances were different he would be spending it with you by his side-- then again, probably not. He hadn’t properly spoken to you or seen you in a few days and it wasn’t going to change today either. “My ears hurt.”

And his heart. He could feel a slow throbbing building up between his ears. A migraine was the final nail he deserved in his coffin and the sadistic part of him wanted to exacerbate it as much as he could. Just to give himself something else to focus on.

“Fine, fine. Just one more time. You’re a goddamn idiot,” Semi said, glaring at him. He knew he should feel worse for his friend than he was, but he also deserved it. There was only so much sympathy he could give when Tendo refused to help himself. He had never been happier than when he started dating you and Semi couldn’t go ten minutes without hearing your name. Now Tendo was slumped over as they walked, feet shuffling against the sidewalk as he stared blankly ahead, and Semi sighed. “Can I give you some advice? You know, friend to idiot?”

Tendo groaned, rolling his eyes, but nodded nonetheless. Semi meant well-- mostly-- and usually gave good advice. Now, if only he would stop trying to make Tendo feel worse. “Sure, I guess. We both know I won’t listen though.”

Semi nodded, snickering behind his hand. The signal for the crosswalk changed, throngs of people instantly flooding the street. They flowed through and around each other, becoming separated for a few moments, until they met on the sidewalk on the other side.

“When you two are together, were together, I’ve never seen you happier. And Akaashi says that _____ is-- was-- too. Do you not trust her?” Semi asked, and watched the way Tendo froze up and paled, inhaling sharply. But he didn’t immediately say no, and that was telling. “If you don’t trust her, you’ll never maintain a relationship, with her or anyone else. Do you really want that, ‘Tori?”

He hadn’t considered that. Not trusting you wasn’t the exact issue. He felt he could tell you anything-- so long as anything didn’t entail things that might annoy you or make him a burden on you. His biggest fear was putting too much of himself into you only to overwhelm you, driving you away. That had backfired pretty spectacularly though, if he had to say so, and now he was left to wonder what would have happened if he had gone that route.

“No, I guess not,” he answered. To anyone else it would have sounded callous and uncaring, but Semi had known him a lot longer and recognized the sound of a Tendo who was in serious thought.

“Then you need to change. I get that you’re afraid, but those bullies from elementary and highschool shouldn’t keep holding you back. And who knows, maybe it isn’t too late with _____,” Semi said with a shrug, and smirked at the way Tendo perked up at that. He deflated just as rapidly a split second later, but it was to be expected. 

The smirk fell as Semi considered. The way things stood, you were better off because Tendo was unhealthy, and probably not in a good place to be in a relationship. He didn’t fault you for breaking it off-- not when he would have done the same. Still, he’d like to see him happy again, especially with you. But he couldn’t guess if Tendo would take it to heart and try, or whether or not you would wait around for him to decide and figure himself out.

Shrugging, he glanced at the barbecue place they were passing by and reached out, tugging Tendo to a stop. When he nodded towards it, Tendou sighed.

“Sure, I’m down. Shouldn’t be sad on an empty stomach.”

Semi groaned. “You are such an idiot.”

i’m a liar i’m a cynic i’m a sinner, i’m a saint i’m a loser i’m a critic i’m the ghost of my mistakes and it’s all my fault that i’m still the one you want what are you after, some kind of disaster

⇥ masterlist 

⇥ taglist: @sluttony​, @visaintes​, @yunhosblackgf​, @super-noya​, @byebyes-world​, @newfriendjen​, @atsunakaashi​

[hurricanery]

If You Went Away - pt. 7

A/N: This is the last full chapter of If You Went Away. I might do a little epilogue that showcases a bit of a timelapse of the next few years- but this is it! This is the end! Thank you so much for all of the support while posting this story, it really means the world to me and it was so much fun to write, even though it was a lil dark here and there.

Other parts here: part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6

Please continue to send prompts for things you want to read in the future. I am already planning to post part 1 of something really fun in the next day or so! <3

_______

(present day)

“Can we run the potentials again, please?” Amelia’s voice permeates through the operating room, and her eyes shift to the side briefly, in time with her request.

“Motor and sensory signals look good, Dr. Shepherd.”

Amelia breathes a sigh, grateful that her surgical mask muffles it. She was usually so confident in her OR. She never faltered. Never led anyone onto her stress, if she could help it.

“There’s so much bone fragment here,” she mutters to herself, but also to the resident across from her. “This part of the vertebrae was totally crushed, we have to, we should make sure….wait!”

The resident completely stops what he’s doing, his retractors coming to a halt over the open spine they are currently operating on.

“Hold off,” Amelia stares below, eyes shifting as she racks her brain for ways to move forward.

After another moment, the impatient resident clears his throat. And Amelia glares up at him before she speaks.

“Can we page ortho?” She decides, but then determines she wants to be more specific. “Er, actually, just page Dr. Lincoln directly, I mean.”

“On it, Dr. Shepherd.”

_______

Having Link across from her during surgery immediately eases some of the stress. He moves with a hopeful confidence that influences her own, and moves with her almost flawlessly.

Along with the sense of ease Amelia feels, the ease that she associates with Link’s surgical process, other feelings start to rise. And she tries to suppress them. The personal feelings. The sudden pulse-quickening feelings. The realization that she’d woken up next to him this morning and didn’t feel totally suffocated by what that meant. His eyes meet hers over the operating table briefly and Amelia is instantly transported back to this morning.

She’d woken up before her alarm. Which seemed strange. She’d anticipated a harsh and unwanted interruption to her sleep, especially after a stressful weekend at Link’s parents’ wedding. She laid awake in bed and let the weekend sink in. The way that night had ended. And Link’s sleepy statements.

She rolled over to face him, and then unashamedly watched the morning light hit his face as he snored softly. She even smiled to herself. Until her quiet moment was suddenly interrupted by the iPhone alarm blaring next to her.

She gathered herself quickly. Dropped the smile. Let her face fall. As Link’s eyes adjusted to hers.

The same eyes that now hold her gaze in the OR.

“This is the part that’s tough,” she composes herself quickly, eyes focused. “See how it’s crushed right here-”

“Yeah, alright. Let me get in there. See what I can do,” he offers, and he watches how Amelia’s eyes widen in warning. “I won’t let anything shift,” he adds, complete assurance evident in his voice.

Amelia nods. And Link goes to work. His hands just as careful as his tone.

_______

“Thanks for operating with me,” Amelia turns her head to the side, glancing at Link as they stand side by side, scrubbing out of surgery.

“Of course,” Link smiles, “Any chance to work on a spine? I’m all for it. Plus, I love seeing you operate.”

Amelia blushes, rolling her eyes in disbelief.

“No really,” he adds. “Neuro is so beyond me, Amelia. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Okay,” she steps away from the sink, her voice cracking a bit as she avoids the compliment. She clears her throat. “I’ll go pick up Scout? And head home? God, I’m so tired….I can’t wait to get home.”

She moves towards the door, but Link quickly follows after her, catching the door and slipping out into the hallway right behind her.

“Wait, Amelia.”

She turns around, glancing at him almost impatiently.

“I….might have asked Meredith to pick up Scout.”

“....And why would you do that?” Her eyebrows pull together, and a surprised laugh escapes her mouth.

“I wanted to take you to dinner….remember?”

Amelia swallows, her face falling as the realization hits. She thought he’d be the one not to remember this half-asleep proposition.

“Like….right now?” Her surprised expression turns more stunned.

“I, uh. Yeah, so….Meredith is picking up Scout. She has Bailey too. She’s going back to our place to watch them while we get dinner.”

Amelia blinks, taking in this information. “You….planned all this?”

“Yes.”

Amelia glances around the relatively empty hallway that they’re still standing right in the center of.

“I had back-to-back surgeries just now, I’m…” She shakes her head. “I kind of just wanted to go home.”

“Dinner and then home?” He lets himself sound hopeful.

“I don’t know….” she starts stepping back, away from him. Ready to turn around and resume her route to the attendings lounge. But then her stomach growls, loudly, just as Link steps into pace with her. Giving her away completely. And Link smiles. Hugely.

“You can’t tell me you’re not hungry now.”

_______

They haven’t been to Angelini’s in over a year. It feels foreign to be sitting across from each other in the dimly-lit Italian restaurant.

But it is their favorite spot. And Amelia is hungry. So she swallows her fears and decides to let the evening play out however it will.

“I have to say…” Link starts the conversation in a playful manner. “I was pretty nervous before this, so, thanks so much for meeting me.”

“Meeting you?” Amelia stifles a laugh. “You drove me here.”

“This is a first date, remember?” Link hangs his head low, and leans forward, his muttering tone reflects the act he’s putting on. “Just play along.”

Amelia frowns, and then the waiter approaches to get their order. They order their usual. Which is always two different pastas to share, salad, and endless bread. When the waiter steps away, the conversation picks back up.

“I said I wanted to start over, right? So think of this like a first date.”

“Wow,” Amelia sighs, stifling another surprised laugh. “You really meant it.”

“I did.”

His tone is more serious now and Amelia gazes at him, deciding whether or not she’s up for this. Her next words surprise her.

“I haven’t been on a first date in ages, so. You’ll have to remind me how this goes.”

Link’s eyes light up, and he breaks out into a soft grin. The waiter approaches with their basket of bread and a couple of small salads get placed in front of them. They express their ‘thank yous’ and then turn back to each other.

“Okay, so. First date questions, right?” Link offers.

“I think we already know the basics,” Amelia grins, biting her lip, trying to think of anything she doesn’t already know about the father of her child.

“There’s always more to learn….” He trails off, thinking. “Okay new game!” He exclaims rather loudly. And Amelia almost chokes on her sparkling water before she sets it back down. “Let’s play 20 questions! I think I can come up with 20 things I don’t already know about you….or, more like, things I want more detail on.”

Amelia raises her eyebrows at this, reaching for a piece of bread as means of deflecting.

“I didn’t hear a ‘no,’ so,” Link watches her as she bites into the bread. “I’ll ask first.”

She’s feeling that pulse-racing again. Along with the thump in her heart. And she doesn’t know where it comes from.

“What’s your favorite color?”

And then her heart rate slows a bit. Relieved at the question. Because this was going to be easy, if this was the route the questions were going to take.

“You don’t know my favorite color?” She questions back.

“I could guess, but no, I don’t think I know for sure.”

She stares back at him for a moment, his bright-eyed gaze holding hers. The candle on the table flickers between them, highlighting the gentleness of his blue orbs.

“Blue,” she mutters, immediately looking down at her salad.

And Link watches her drop her similarly captivating stare. “Mine too,” he admits, then goes in for a bite of salad.

Amelia clears her throat. It was her turn for a question.

“Do you wish you had siblings?”

Link swallows his food, nodding. “I did….when I was a kid. I wished every day that I had siblings. Now? Not so much.”

Amelia nods solemnly, as her own disdain about adult siblings comes to mind.

“Dream vacation?” The questions are coming faster now.

“Paris,” she shrugs, but then glances around the restaurant. “Or anywhere in Italy. Favorite movie?”

“Batman.”

“I knew that, actually,” she laughs, genuinely enjoying herself.

Link nods, thinking of his next question as Amelia finishes up her salad.

“Biggest fear?”

Amelia’s eyes widen, and once again she finds it hard to swallow her food without struggling a bit.

“We’re getting that deep already?” She mutters. “On the first date?”

Link just nods, raising his eyebrows at her.

“Are we allowed to….skip questions?”

Link’s eyes narrow at this. But he decides to lighten up a bit. “Fine, you get one skip,” he agrees.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, moving onto her own question. “Dream job? Besides your current one?”

“Dream job besides head of ortho at Grey Sloan….?” He verifies the question.

She nods.

“I don’t know….I already have both of my dream jobs. I love the ortho department here….and I love the work I’ve done with the Mariners. I don’t have another dream job. These jobs….are the dream,” he shrugs.

Amelia sucks in a breath, setting down her fork and biting the inside of her cheek.

“Okay, my turn again….” Link continues, not catching on to Amelia’s reaction to his answer. “What’s your-”

“What are we going to do? When the Mariners want to renew your contract this season?” Amelia interrupts Link’s question with one of her own.

Link frowns, putting down his own fork and clasping his hands together. “Is that….your question for the game? We’re switching turns now?”

Amelia just stares at him.

“Do I get to skip a question, too? Or?”

She shakes her head slowly.

“Alright…” He mutters. “I think….we’ll worry about that when it happens. That’s really all I can answer for now.”

And now she nods.

“Do I get a turn now?” Link questions, uncertain of the rules now.

Amelia offers another hesitant nod.

“How will you feel….if I get offered another contract?”

Amelia reaches for her drink and takes a sip, actively prolonging her answer.

“You don’t get another skip,” he adds.

She sets her glass back down. “I know. And my answer is….we’ll worry about that when it happens….” she smirks, repeating his words from a moment ago.

“That’s not-”

“Hey,” she interrupts. “That’s my answer! And I’ll let you have another turn, since I stole yours.”

Link shakes his head, grinning.

“Deal,” his smile grows wider, and he wiggles his eyebrows up and down a bit. “What’s your favorite thing about me?”

Amelia rolls her eyes, trying to suppress her urge to smile back at him. “My favorite thing about you….” She trails off, her eyes zoning in on another area of the restaurant. “My favorite thing about you, is the fact that you brought me here….because I think that’s our waiter heading this way with the pasta, and I simply could not be more excited for that….”

Link huffs out a laugh, watching as Amelia’s eyes follow the path their dinner makes to the table.

_______

They get home about an hour and a half later. Their arrival coincidentally causes Scout and Bailey, who currently occupy the length of the couch, to stir from sleep. The muted TV provides a dim light to the living room, and they try to be as quiet as possible as they let the light guide them to the coat closet.

“Hello?” Scout’s tired voice pipes up from the couch, just as Amelia and Link make their presence known.

“Hey guys,” Link whispers as the boys begin to sit all the way up.

Meredith enters the living room then, too. “How was dinner?”

“You guys went to dinner?!” Scout looks between his parents curiously, a drowsy edge to his voice still.

Amelia laughs under her breath. And Link offers to take Scout to bed.

“And I'm going to head out,” Meredith states, as she watches Bailey practically succumb to sleep again on the couch.

“Thanks so much, Mer,” Amelia voices her gratitude, as Link helps Scout toward the stairs and Meredith leads Bailey to the door.

Amelia stands in the hallway, smiling to herself as the two pairs make their exits.

A moment later, Scout’s small voice can be heard from the top of the stairs.

“Mom looks happy,” he says simply. Sleepily, but simply. Like the observation should be obvious.

Amelia’s face quickly falls. Her smile is replaced with a look of shock, following her son’s perceptiveness. Meredith turns to her, from where she’s almost out the door, and raises her eyebrows at Amelia knowingly.

And before Meredith can say anything, Amelia is moving towards the door, ready to shut it behind her sister. “Goodnight, Meredith,” she says pointedly.

The next thing she hears is Meredith’s giggle from the porch outside. It mixes in with the sound of Link’s dumbfounded chuckle from the top of the stairs.

Amelia groans, deflecting the grin that wants to overcome her face.

She drops heavily onto the couch as she listens to the sound of Mer’s car pull away. Link descends the staircase a few minutes later. He takes in Amelia’s relaxed position against the cushions and collapses down next to her.

“He fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow,” Link laughs.

And Amelia hums appreciatively, turning to him. “Thank you for dinner tonight,” she mumbles. “I’m glad you planned it.”

“Of course,” he responds wholeheartedly.

A brief silence falls between them, and Link thinks they could almost fall asleep right there, with the post Italian food coma threatening to overcome them both.

He shifts a little bit, leaning closer to Amelia on the couch. And she opens one eye, peering at him curiously.

“I know this is a long shot,” there’s a slight seriousness to his words. “First date and all…” he trails off, and Amelia now opens both eyes, becoming fully focused on whatever he’s about to say.

“What’s your stance on sharing a bed on the first date?”

And then the mocking tone finally registers for her, and she fails to suppress her giggle. She reaches over and smacks him on the shoulder playfully.

“You’re too much,” she rolls her eyes.

“I know,” Link chuckles, standing up from the couch. He reaches a hand out to Amelia, offering to pull her up from her position on the couch. “But let’s go to bed.”

Amelia stares up at him, biting down on her smirk. She clasps her hand around his.

_______

(6 months later)

It feels like déjà vu. Like she’s lived through this situation before. An entire year after the previous summer, it’s like clockwork. The same situation once again.

Link huffs out a sigh as he grabs the last of the luggage, adding it to the pile in the front hallway.

“Where’s Scout?” Amelia mutters, entering the small space by the door.

“He’s upstairs, he’s almost ready.”

“Did he pack his new baseball mitt?”

“Yup, he’s got it,” Link offers a small smile.

And then their overly-excited, now 6-year-old, is running down the stairs, already dressed in his baseball uniform.

“Scout,” Amelia laughs, “You have to sit through a pretty long drive. You sure that’s what you want to be wearing? How about something more comfortable?”

Scout shakes his head profusely, barely able to stand still. “No, no! I don’t wanna change!”

Amelia sighs, reaching forward to ruffle his hair. Scout steps away from her touch, the additional year to his age consequently resulting in some impatience at her affections.

“Want to help me finish loading up the car, bud?” Link asks.

Scout nods enthusiastically, following his Dad outside.

The house is quiet now, and Amelia listens to the distant sounds of her son babbling excitedly outside. It feels so nostalgic. Like it’s happened before. Like déjà vu, a feeling rises in her chest as she listens to the car start up. She listens for their voices to get closer, and for their footsteps to clamber onto the porch. And then, moments later, Link re-enters the house with Scout trailing behind him.

“You all packed up?” Amelia asks Scout, a familiar edge to her voice.

“Yep!” Scout replies, his energy radiating in an almost contagious way.

“Okay, then. Guess it’s time to go,” Amelia states.

It’s familiar. But different.

“Where’s your suitcase, Mom?”

The same. But so, so different.

“I put it in the car, bud,” Link chimes in, eyes shifting to Amelia. “We ready?”

Amelia nods, glancing around the house to make sure everything is set. Set for Link and Scout to be gone for the summer. And set for Amelia to be gone, too. Because she was going, this time. Travelling to the away games every other weekend. This weekend being the first of many.

They lock up the house and climb into the car. Link drives as Amelia sits passenger side. Scout can be heard from the back seat, chatting eagerly about the games he’s looking forward to the most.

Amelia smiles to herself, glancing out the window as she listens to Scout. She feels a hand come to rest on her knee and she turns to Link, her smile growing wider as she takes in his expression.

“Thank you,” he whispers, squeezing her knee, eyes shifting back to the road. He eventually removes his hand, so that both of his palms can occupy the steering wheel again as they continue to the airport.

“Link,” Amelia matches his whisper. She keeps her eyes on him. Watching him as he watches the road. “We always fight for our dreams, right?”

Some sort of emotion waves across his features. And Amelia notices the way he tries to blink away the sudden glassiness in his eyes. She can’t quite place the reaction he’s having. But then he looks at her again, briefly. And all Amelia can see is loving.

//

Another A/N: thank u thank u thank u for getting all the way here! means THE WORLD TO ME u don’t even know. Hopefully this story came full circle enough <3 I loved writing it sm!

[neesieiumz]

All The Stars {Tamaki Amajiki x Reader} - Chapter 5

Summary: Tamaki has been a sidekick at Fatgum’s agency for four years, going up in ranks and becoming Fatgum’s right-hand man. That’s when a transfer hero comes in, Y/n L/n. Born and raised in Southern America, Y/n comes to Japan for a fresh start and interviews and aces Fatgum’s interview. Partnered with Tamaki and Fatgum to get used to Japan, Tamaki finds her interesting, and can’t help the fact he wants to get to know her. As Y/n’s past slowly gets revealed, will her demons allow the two of them to prosper? 

A/N: I KNOW, I KNOW I’M LATE!! But I really wanted to proofread this cause I don’t know if I’m setting this up as I want to... I want this story to last and I wanted it to grow which caused me to write over 4k words, which makes this the longest chapter yet, this is how long I want to keep my chapters so it may take longer to get them out, so I wanted make sure I have everything set up so without further ado...

Word count: 4k words

Chapter 5 - A new chapter

“Welcome everyone, take a seat and we can get started.” Fat gum greeted everyone as all the major pro heroes in the cities filed in and took their seats. 

Fat gum took a deep breath before turning to Tamaki and Kirishima who were the two sidekicks he brought to the meeting. 

“We’re here to discuss the arising group, who call themselves Resist, my two sidekicks Red Riot and Suneater can catch everyone up to speed. 

Tamaki looked at Kirishima who nodded and turned in the PowerPoint they both slaved over the last two weeks. 

“We’ve been noticing a rise in flame and explosive based attacks all across Japan. They usually happen in places like shopping malls, college buildings, places where a lot of people convene in a confined space basically,” Kirk started to explain, pressing the button to bring up different reports of buildings on fire which included Tadashi Shopping Center. 

Tamaki took over the presentation at this point, “we’ve noticed that in the reports we receive about these attacks, all of the opposition had these jackets with a symbol either etched on the back and the chest. We believe this is what Resist uses to distinguish themselves from other villains, and anything with this type of organization needs to be squashed before it can grow. We’ve seen this type of thing before,” He explained before narrowing his eyes. 

“We don’t want a repeat of what happened those years ago. It’s taken a long time to rebuild hero society and it’s still on the rocks.” Tamaki finished his part before looking back at Kirishima to continue. 

“Since we know what symbol they use to distinguish themselves, that allows us to see when they pop up in cities and how many times they do as well. From what I found out, they never popped up in cities more than two times except for one, here in Esuha city.” Using the IPad, he flipped through the city and a map of Japan popped up. 

In all the other major cities, they had either a one or a two except for one, Esuha City which had a nine beside its point.”

“Oh wow,” a hero mumbled.

“Nine attacks? That’s crazy,” a female hero said. 

Tamaki started to speak, “with this, we hypothesize that Resist’s HQ is somewhere in the underground of Esuha city. This is the only evidence that supports this, and will be one of the main objectives of this meeting, figuring out where they reside so we can take them down.” 

“Wait, wait, wait, so we don’t know where they are?” A pro hero, Nova, asked, looking at Tamaki with skepticism. 

Kirishima stepped in, noticing Tamaki beginning to crack, needing a few minutes to collect himself again, he can only go so long before his thoughts intrude. 

“We only have an idea, the Fat Gum Agency already has heroes and sidekicks staking out possible locations where they might be but there’s always a chance that this lead may lead us nowhere. This leads us to one of the purposes of this meeting!” Kirishima ended with a smile and a thumbs up. 

His contagious smile made Tamaki feel a little better and he stood a little straighter and tapped the IPad to bring up the next slide. 

“The way they’ve been attacking reminds me a lot of The League of Villains and we all know how they’ve left a stain in Japan’s trust in Hero Society. Some of us in this room knew how hard it was fighting them,” Tamaki lamented, looking over at his partner and they both slightly nodded.

“We lost a lot of lives and a lot of good heroes with them, and we were lucky to prevail from that fight but everything changed with that fight. The fragile state that All Might left the country was crushed and the public hated most heroes. We need to squash any threat to what we’ve built over the years and that starts with Resist,”

 Kirishima and Tamaki remember the fight with the LOV, the screams, the blood, the bodies, the cleanup, the tears, waking up in a cold sweat for months on end. Tamaki remembers lifting some debris and seeing a bloody Barbie doll and throwing up in an empty alleyway. 

Both of them did not want to go through that again. 

“Okay, we get it, but honestly I just don’t see how this “Resist” organization is any trouble. They’re just blowing up buildings without any objective.” Another random local hero spits out, leaning against his arm. 

“You idiot!” 

Kirishima and Tamaki slightly smirked at who spoke up. The six-foot Explosion Hero: Ground Zero stood up, glaring at the man who just spoke up. 

“The League of Villains were like that too, just destroying with no objective, then they found one and that’s why heroes are looked at as fucking trash!” Katsuki Bakugou spoke up, slamming his hand on the desk. 

After Best Jeanist retired, he entrusted his agency to the loud ash blond man which shocked the rest of his sidekicks. Since then, he’s been his hero, signing on Denki and Mina after they had no agency to take them in. 

“I would know, me and Shitty hair,” he said, pointing at Kirishima, “we were there for a lot of them. We were also there when they found a purpose and that’s when they took me when I was still the first year. We underestimate them as we did with LOV and it could grow into a situation that we don’t want to see! Shouldn’t you fucking know this shit already?!” Bakugou finished before sitting down after Denki tried to calm him down. 

“Calm down Ground Zero, don't want you popping a blood vessel,” a cold voice called and everyone’s attention turned to the Half and Half hero who took over his Father’s agency once he graduated. 

After his father’s career was shot after the fight, his agency fell apart since Todoroki was still a first year. But as soon as he graduated, most of his father’s old sidekicks came back to him and his father even left the building to him. Deciding that he only knew his father since he interned and did his work-study there, he decided to revamp the agency as his own and remove the bad memories since then. 

“Come on guys, let’s not fight, this is a serious matter,” came the nervous voice Deku, the one everyone was looking at as the one who would replace All Might. 

He was the only one out of his class to start a hero agency right out of high school without having to inherit it, the rest of them becoming sidekicks. Izuku Midoriya replaced Hawks as the youngest pro hero ever. 

“Shut up Deku!” 

Kiri shook his head and facepalmed at his alumni antics. 

“Somethings don’t change, huh Kirishima?” Tamaki whispers to him which made the Unbreakable hero sigh and nod. 

“Alright!! Let’s get back on topic!” Kirishima yelled, clapping his hands to get the attention of his old classmates. 

“Sorry Red.”

“My apologies.”

“Tch, whatever Shitty Hair.”

Kirishima let out a breath of relief before looking over at Fat gum to take over the rest of the meeting. Fat gum nodded before smirking and rubbing his hens together. 

“Let’s get started.”

***

Tamaki was ready to go home. Everyone was arguing about the best next steps to take to defeat this new organization and so far, no one was agreeing. Some wanted to start their investigations in their cities but some wanted to blow up every building until the “Resist Turds” showed themselves so we could kill them. 

Tamaki sighed as he slouched in his chair, listening to his boss and other pro heroes argue about their next move. 

“We can’t ignore this issue anymore, but that doesn’t mean we lose morals when it comes to this. Heroes and the public still have a rocky relationship and we can’t get into anything rash!” 

“What?!? What’s waiting? I say we find them right now and smoke them out!” 

“You haven’t changed at all.”

Tamaki looked over to the clock and noticed it was getting real close to 3:00 pm, they’ve been here for almost 2 hours and some of these hero’s had long trips to get to. Tamaki tapped Kirishima and Gat gum and showed them the time. Fat gum slammed his hands against the desk before standing up, effectively silencing the room of arguing heroes. 

“We need to decide before we get overtime and something happens in your cities. So what’s our verdict, because this isn’t the only meeting we’ll have, we’ll have more in the future that we need to prepare for,” Fat gum said. 

Everyone refused to look at each other in the eye, that was before Deku decided to speak up. 

“If so many, I believe that their HQ could be possibly located here end think that the Fat Gum Agency should focus all resources in finding said hideout, but that doesn’t mean that the rest of us shouldn’t look for clues,” He said, pointing to the screen. 

“For those whose cities that were only hit once, keep an extra eye out if they ever come back. Those cities who were hit twice, you all should go back to where they hit you and see if they left behind any clues. They aren’t as organized right now so now’s the time to stop them and give the public something to believe in again!” 

And just like that, like the future Number One Hero he was destined to be, he raised everyone’s spirits in this new mission. To eradicate the Resist before they gain a name as big as LOV.

Y/n sighed as she walked in the building, headphones blasting a Megan song. She waved hi to the receptionist before turning the corner and jogging to her office. Sipping in her She opened the door and turned the light to reveal her office. She’s been so busy with the rise of villains since the two months she’s been here, that she hasn’t had a chance to finally decorate her office the way she’s wanted to. She paused her music and pulled out her headphones to be able to take a better look at her workspace. 

It had a window in the right wall of the room and her desk right in front of, facing the front of the room. The walls were bare and painted white and the room littered with unopened boxes from things she ordered. She looked down at the bag of decorations she recently bought to complete the rest and smiled. 

“Alright, I got 2 hours before the meeting with Fatgum and the other heroes. I better finish this before then,” she mumbled to herself before walking over to the biggest Amazon box. 

She turned on her speaker and connected them to her phone before continuing the song she was listening to while she was walking in the agency. 

’Simon says, put your hands on hips’

She rapped along the song under her breath as she cut open the box that was her storage shelf. As she was pulling the wrapped contents, a knock sounded off from her door. It was so quiet that she almost couldn’t hear over her music. She lowered the volume before opening her door. 

Standing outside of it was Tamaki who was dressed in very casual clothes, a pair of jeans, and a white tee shirt. Y/n stood there surprised, not expecting the Manifest hero to stand outside her door. Last she heard of him, he was working with Fat gum with a major mission. But that's what she heard. 

“Amajiki-san! This is a surprise? What brings you here?” 

Tamaki jumped at her sudden answer but collected himself, “I have something to talk to you and Aoi-san, is he here?” 

Y/n shook her head, stepping out the way for him to allow him inside her office.

“Today’s both of our days off, he went to see his mom and I decided to use this to come in to finally set up my office after two months of being here!”

“No, no it's my fault, I should have contacted you before I came over,” he shook his hands in front of his face. 

She waved him off, “It’s okay, I wasn’t doing anything important. So what’s going on?” 

She hopped on her desk and sat down and gestured for Tamaki to come closer. Tamaki hesitated to say anything, but time was of the essence and Fatgum didn’t tell Tamaki that the pair had the day off. He was about to start to speak but he looked around the room and noticed different boxes scattered around the room and looked back at Y/n who was bending down to pick up tape she threw around the room. Tamaki’s ears turned red and he quickly looked away right as she stood up. 

“Sorry it’s a mess,” she huffed, balling up the tape, “I wasn’t expecting for me to have any guests.”

He waved her off, “no it’s fine? What’s with all the boxes anyway?”

Y/n walked over to the biggest box and turned it around to show the picture of her bookcase shelf which still wasn’t open. Tamaki saw this and looked around and saw other office supplies and decorations still wrapped in plastic and packing peanuts all over the floor. 

“I decided to use my day off to finally decorate my office the bay I wanted it to be, but I may have… overspent on somethings,” she trailed off sheepishly, taking in how many boxes were in the room. 

Tamaki saw how exasperated she was, it would take her a long time to assemble the shelf and it's already 2:30 pm. He was all finished with his paperwork and was gonna go home after telling the partners before going home. He wasn’t even that tired after all. So with a deep breath, he called out Y/n as she was cleaning the peanuts away from the chairs to give them a place to sit. 

“Hey, Y/n?”

She stopped, loving her things, and turned to look at Tamaki, “yes?”

“I have the rest of the day off, I’d… I’d be more than happy to help you with your office. If... if you’d let me?” His voice got significantly quieter as he spoke. 

Y/n’s eyes brightened up, running over to take Tamaki by the hands. 

“Really!”  She exclaimed, pulling him closer to her body. 

Tamaki blushed at this sudden movement, “tried” to move his body and nodded his head, yes to confirm what he asked her. Y/n squealed before pulling the violet-haired man in a full-blown hug. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I am honestly CLUELESS when it comes to putting things together and I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to do it! This helps so much! Thank you!”

Tamaki’s face went red as a cherry as he tried his best to make his words conceit but his thundering heart, increasing body temperature, and his burning ears made that quite difficult to do. He gave her his best smile and she gave him an even bigger one back before dragging him to the biggest box. 

“Let’s get this over with, it’s the hardest one here.”

Together, the two of them opened the box and started taking the parts out. While the two of them set up her office, they got to know each other more, from him telling her about her times as a pro hero in America. 

“Yeah, America is so different from Japan,” she mused, ripping open the smaller boxes, “Here you get your license from the Hero Commission which is a branch under the Federal Government. You can work anywhere in the country! In America, you can only be licensed in the state you take your test in!” Y/n explained, grabbing the instructions to see which parts she had. 

“Wait, how many states are in America? I know there’s a lot,” Tamaki asked, making Y/n giggle and cover her mouth. 

Y/n shook her head, “there’s fifty of them, and I could only work in Texas, where I’m from.”

Tamaki shook his head, “but what if you’re out of the state and an emergency appears and they need help?”

Y/n shrugs, “I have to leave it to the heroes there, interfering could cause me to lose my job.” She laid out all the parts and counted in her head to make that all the parts were here. 

“When I’m not in my licensed state, I’m just a simple civilian with no permission to use their quirk.”

“America’s really different from Japan, I should have known though,” Tamaki let out a little chuckle as he said that. 

“Yeah, just the size of Texas is bigger than Japan. A different system is to be expected I guess,” Y/n shrugged her shoulders. 

She picked up the boards and the poles and started putting them together but for some reason, it wouldn’t go in. Feeling frustrated, she continued to struggle with the pieces, confused as to why they weren’t going in the hole. 

“Stupid piece of,” she hissed under breath as she continued to struggle, “you doing too much for me, just go in the thing!”

Hearing her mumble under breath in English, Tamaki turned around from building his own part to seeing Y/n struggle. He smiled slightly before getting up and walking to her. Y/n saw him move over to her and before she could process it, he grabbed the pieces from her. 

“No, I think it goes over here,” Tamaki reached over behind Y/n and flipped the pole, and slid it in the hole with no problem. 

Y/n smiled at Tamaki as he did the rest of the poles, doing it effortlessly. He was about to screw everything in whenY/n stopped him.

“I can do this part but thank you!” She grabbed her screwdriver from him and before she knew it, she placed a kiss on his right cheek. 

Oh lord, Y/n thought, her head running wild, oh lord, oh lord, oh lord, what the fuck did I do?!!? Why the fuck did I kiss him???? Well, it was only on the chek, BUT FUCKING STILL!!

Tamaki was frozen, his face red. His heart pounded in his chest, and he stood there frozen. She just kissed him on the cheek, a kiss, her lips were on some part of his body. His face, his right cheek. A girl, a girl he liked. 

Y/n on the other hand took a deep breath before going back to her unfinished bookcase and continuing as if nothing happened. Tamaki looked at her quietly putting her shelf together before Tamaki decided he should do the same. They both didn’t mention what happened.

---

“Oh yeah, Tamaki what was it that you wanted to talk to me about?” Y/n asked him, using the screwdriver to carefully tighten the screw in her new desk. 

Tamaki was pulled out of his thoughts, looked at her confused, before remembering what he had to talk to them about. Why he even came to her office in the first place. 

“It concerns both you and your partner, I was hoping he would be here with you since I didn't see him in his office,” Tamaki replied, standing up and stretching his back. 

“He’s using his day off to visit his mom,” she said, remembering the conversation they had while he dropped her off, “he hasn’t seen her in a while and he said he’s finally caught up with paperwork so yeah,” 

Tamaki nodded, not caring about what Aoi did. 

“But I’m sure I can relay to him what’s going on, so what’s up?” She asked, leaving on her desk for support from being on her feet all day. 

Tamaki nodded, “It’s about a case I’ve been working on, you remember your debut fight and the explosion at Tadashi Center right?” Tamaki started, going in his bag and pulling out his flash drive with a conceded version of his and Kirishima’s presentation. 

Y/n nodded, tilting her head at the question. He handed her the flash drive and began explaining what the mission was about and its ties to her debut fight and the attack in Tadashi Center

“We believe that the people who attacked during those two times are a part of the same organization, looking to gain the same infamy that the League of Villains gained. You know about the League right?”

She nodded, “anyone who has access to news worldwide knows who they are. They left a hole in Japan’s hero society, a ginormous one.” 

Tamaki nodded, “and we believe this group is trying to continue what they left and destroy society as we know it. This is what I’ve been working on for a while and we are finally making some moves. This is where you and Aoi-San come in,” Tamaki reported. 

“Comes in?”

Y/n used her fingers to replicate quotes as she said this. Tamaki nodded. 

“Your quirk is the most effective, the ability to swallow fire and make it your own, you’ll become a big help if more explosions ever come up. Aoi-San comes as extra backup, never go wrong with extra hands, c-considering he’s your part-partner,” Tamaki finishes, sweating profusely when he mentions Aoi as your partner. 

“So out of the sidekicks here, you want me and Aoi to join you?” 

Tamaki nodded, “we’ll have other heroes from other agencies join us, we didn’t want to take any chances with them, so we made sure that we made other heroes who were affected aware of this. This was a last-minute decision made by Fat gum after seeing reports on how you were able to put out the flames in less than 5 minutes. ”

Y/n stared at him with a look he didn’t recognize, he could feel his heart pound at that. 

Oh no, did I say something wrong?!? Oh no, I didn’t mean to offend her, what do I do?! This so weird, why the fuck do I do- Tamaki’s thoughts started to overrun him again, he almost fell into the deep put before hearing low chuckles echo through the office which pulled him out of his thoughts. 

Tamaki looked at Y/n with confusion as she continued to laugh. She then stopped laughing and jumped off the desk and stretched her back out. 

Y/n nodded her head in understanding, mumbling under her breath, “that makes sense.” 

Tamaki perked up, “so you’ll join us?”

Y/n blinked at him, confused at what he said, “I had a choice?”

It was Tamaki’s turn to look at her confused, why would she think she doesn’t have a choice in this? Tamaki ignored this and just nodded his head. Y/n smiled at that and gave him a thumbs up. 

“I’m all in! And I’m sure that Aoi would be perfectly okay with it, I’ll make sure of it!” She exclaimed. 

Aoi? He thought to himself, deflating slightly before giving Y/n a last nod and turning to leave. As he did that, he heard a gasp and Y/n asking for him to wait. Tamaki turned back around, heart pounding in anticipation and he started to sweat. 

“Ye-yes?” He stumbled out, cursing at himself. 

She smiled before handing him her phone with ‘New Contact’ pulled up.

“I’ve wanted to ask you for your number for a while because I think your quirk would be very suitable for some training together?” She smiled, crossing her arms. 

Tamaki still didn't say anything as she pushed herself up from leaning against her desk and picked up her phone. She typed away at it before handing it to him. 

He stared at it confused before realizing he was supposed to put his number in it. He quickly grabbed the phone and typed in his number and his name before handing it back to her. 

“H-here you go.”

Y/n smiled and took her phone back, tapping away at it before putting it away, “thanks! I’ll text you?” 

Tamaki's eyes widened and his ears went cherry red, “yeah, just...just text me.” He stumbled out before heading to the door

[minijenn]

Keys to the Kingdom Preview

HERE YA GO NERDS FUCKIN JOIN IN MY SUFFERING 

***

“Xehanort is taking over Sora’s heart!” Ventus shouts, his voice hitching into a sob as this horrendous fact finally, finally forces itself out. Suddenly, all eyes are on him again, shocked expressions across the board as the others all try to make sense of what they just heard. Yet even amidst their shock, Ventus continues, unable to stop himself now, knowing that he couldn’t, even if he wanted to. Not after all this time of having to harbor and hide this. “H-he’s trying to turn Sora into his lest vessel,” he explains morosely, tears streaming down his cheeks all the while. “He’s been filling his heart with darkness for months now. When I was inside of it, I-I… I tried my best to fight him off, we all did, but… it wasn’t enough. Sora’s still… h-he’s being…” Ventus shudders, unsure of even what to say next. Because really, what can be said about a situation that’s so utterly unspeakable?

It ripples through the other lights like a shockwave, the terrible truth far too few of them knew about until this very moment. The study is far more still and silent than it's ever been before, with even the usually calm and collected Yen Sid seems completely bewildered by what’s just been said. Along the far wall, Axel swiftly stands upright, no longer leaning as he’d been before. Aqua draws in a sharp breath she nearly forgets to let out, Terra taking her hand to steady her when he sees her sway ever so slightly. Donald and Goofy fall into the same sort of regretful resignation Ventus has already adopted, while Mickey desperately tries searching for something, anything to say and ultimately finding nothing. 

But the ones who are struck the hardest by this heartbreaking revelation are, of course, Riku and Kairi. Ventus’ first sentence alone had been enough to spark starting tears in Kairi’s eyes, but everything else he says is what ultimately makes them fall. She grips Riku’s arm like a vice, practically leaning against him for support as she chokes out a tight, terrified sob. Yet for his part, Riku doesn’t move, doesn’t even look over at her as he instead stares straight at the marble ground before him, his eyes wide, yet his expression unreadable. Kairi is the first to break the longstanding silence by tensely whispering his name, but he doesn’t respond. He can’t respond; all he can do is stand there, frozen in fear and grief and anger, and hope that it isn’t true; it can’t be true, it can’t be, it can’t-

“That… no, that isn’t possible!” Mickey finally speaks up, nearly echoing Riku’s thoughts exactly. “We saved Sora from-”

“It didn’t work!” Donald cries, shaking his head. 

“The Organization kept telling us, even as far back as when we started lookin’ for the Keys, that Sora was turning into one of them,” Goofy details anxiously. “But we didn’t believe them.”

“We should have,” Donald huffs, frustrated with just how long it had taken them to realize something was wrong. Because if they had caught onto the problem sooner, than maybe, just maybe, Sora would still be standing here with them now. “There was plenty of evidence, between the X-shaped scar they gave him, and the cracks on his Keyblade, and those new dark powers he started using…” The magician pauses at this, both him and Goofy rubbing the still-sore spots on their arms where Sora’s accidental magic had struck them back in Twilight Town. While they’d mostly healed up from that ordeal physically, the emotional sting of it, or rather, from when Sora had tearfully run from them seconds after, still lingers all the same. 

“But we didn’t find out until we saw his hair starting to turn white and his eyes turning yellow,” Goofy glumly reports. “He begged us not to tell any of you--like we said, we wanted to, but… he was so sad and scared, so…”

“So we kept quiet and I cast a glamour spell on him to hide what was happening to his body,” Donald admits, ashamed that they’d even done that much. Because in condoning Sora’s stubborn secrecy, in going to such great lengths to help him keep that secret, they’ve done so much more to hurt him than to help him like they wanted to. And of course, they’re only realizing that now, when it's far too late. “We shouldn’t have listened to him; we should have just forced him to come back here and tell all of you!”

“But we didn’t…” Goofy sighs guiltily. “And we’re so sorry, both to all of you… and to Sora most of all…”

While most of the others have no idea what to even say at this juncture, Mickey is the one to speak up again, his tone and expression mutually disappointed as he looks to his two longtime friends. “Wow, this is… a lot to take in…” he begins, just as overwhelmed as all of the others are. “I really wish you fellas had said something sooner.”

“Yeah, I think we’re all wishing that,” Axel says incredulously. “What I can’t believe is that you three all stayed tight-lipped on this whole thing for so long! I would have thought that Sora at least would have let something slip, even by accident.”

“H-he was scared of what would happen if any of you found out,” Ventus mutters, rubbing his arm as he glances away from the group. “That’s why he asked me to not tell anyone either. I thought he’d come clean on his own sooner or later but…” He sighs, finally realizing that had been too much to hope for. After all, Sora had managed to keep this all so well-hidden even well before he’d even awakened. Why had Ventus ever been foolish enough to think that would stop once he came along? Why had he ever thought that he even had a chance at changing Sora’s mind when it had already been made up from the moment this all began?

“Ven…” Aqua says, her tone torn between stern and sorrowful. “You knew, from the minute you woke up, that this was happening to Sora… and you didn’t once think to tell any of us? Not even me?”

“Aqua, no, I just… Sora asked me to-”

“You should have known better!” Aqua scolds. Her blue eyes blaze with a kind of intense ferocity that Ventus has rarely ever seen, ferocity he’s almost never seen directed at him. “Both of you should have known better! Your heart was inside of his, that means you must have known how serious this was! If you tried to help him from the inside before, then why didn’t you do anything to help him once you were out!? Why didn’t you tell us, Ventus!?”

He flinches, as if physically struck, by the sudden sharpness of her seldom use of his full name. He opens his mouth, only to immediately close it again, any words he might have said, even the apology he wants to offer her and everyone else here, falling short. Aqua’s severity doesn’t even soften when she sees Ventus’ tears begin to fall anew, nor does she turn calm when she feels Terra’s comforting hand find a place upon her shoulder. 

“Aqua,” he says, his earnest, steady tone finally diverting her attention away from Ven. “I-”

Before he can get another word out, she suddenly falls apart on him, cutting him off as she throws her arms around him, burying her face into his chest as her shoulders shudder with starting sobs. “We just got you back…” she mutters so quietly only he can really hear her. “I-I can’t imagine losing anyone else I care about to him… not again…”

[lunasilvermorny]

When your worst fear come true.

Winter, 1997.

Talbott was the one that got the call.

He stood up almost immediately and ran out of the room to catch Tonks before she leaves.

“Sorry, mate.” Tonks said before he had a chance to say anything. “I know there’s a call, but I have to be somewhere else.”

“It’s-“

“Nope, I’m off the clock. We’ll talk tomorrow-“

“Listen.” He blocked her way, shooting her an extremely serious look. “The address – it’s Luna’s parents’ house.”

Tonks froze and stared at him for a few seconds, before her mind caught up to the severity of the situation. “You mean-?”

“Her father, probably.”

“Oh, no.” Tonks murmured. “Let’s go.”

They didn’t even try to follow procedure, they just left as fast as possible. Three seconds have past before they stood in front of the house. The front door was open and the Dark Mark was floating in the sky a few meters above the roof.

A high-pitched cry cut through the air, followed by loud sobbing. They didn’t wait any longer and went inside, passed through the long corridor and into the large living room. Luna was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, cradling the body of her little sister. Another loud cry burst out of her throat, so intense that it cracked mid-way through and turned into choked shrieks. She wasn’t aware of their presence yet.

Tonks turned to look at the body of the old man that was on the ground half a meter from Luna – it was her father. She and Talbott exchanged looks and without saying a word, managed to have an understanding on how to handle the situation.

With slow steps, Talbott headed toward Luna. He lowered himself to her level; his bent knees supported his weight, as he said with a soft voice- “Luna.”

She jumped away from him, not letting go of her little sister and shoved her wand in front of his face. After a moment of hesitation, she realized who she’s looking at and lowered her wand. Her dirty tears were mixed with make-up and smeared on her cheeks. An expression of complete horror filled her face.

“What happened?” he asked with the same soft voice.

Luna turned to look at Tonks that examined her father’s body and then back at Talbott. She struggled to speak without tears making her choke up, but after a few second of breathing, she said in a trembling voice- “Death Eater. Used the killing curse on them. According to…” her breaths became heavier.

Talbott gently patted her shoulder, whispering- “Take your time.” It helped calm her down enough to keep going.

“According to the state… the state of the bodies…” she wiped out the new tears that emerged from her eyes. “It happened about four hours ago, at least.” She closed her eyes and tightened her grip on her little sister. “The Death Eater left a… a…”

“This.” Tonks said and raised a sheet of paper for Talbott to see. “But I don’t think it was intentional, because it looks like some sort of code.”

Luna’s expression turned from horrified to enraged.

“It’s because of me.” She whispered in an accusatory tone.

“Luna-“ Tonks started to say, but Luna cut her off immediately.

“I don’t want to hear anything from you!” Luna roared. “It’s your fault – THE ORDER’S FAULT!”

“No, it’s-“

“What? A coincidence?!” Luna said furiously. “They knew I help you! That’s why they killed her!”

Tonks looked helpless. Tears starting to fill her eyes as well, but she managed to get a hold of her emotions in time. “No, Luna-“

“SHUT UP!” Luna screamed at her from the top of her lungs and Tonks fell silence.

“Maybe you should get that paper to evidence.” Talbott said calmly, his voice was firm but still compassionate.

Tonks seemed like she didn’t want to leave, but after a few more seconds of silence, nodded her head and apparated.

Luna turned to look at Talbott, tears running down her cheeks again. “I did this.” She started trembling.

Talbott wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer. “I know how you feel right now.” She was about to say something, but he repeated- “I know.” Their eyes met and were locked in a gaze that expressed the same guilt and pain. They both knew how it feels to lose their family to the Death Eaters.

Luna lowered her head, leaned on his shoulder and started sobbing again. It was a quite cry. A defeated cry.  

After Luna managed to calm down again, Talbott asked- “Where are Jana and Lilia?”

“Gone.” Luna said quietly, unintentionally, because she lost a significant amount of her vocal abilities by exhausting her vocal chords. “Not in the house, but all of their belongings are still here.”

“We’ll find them.” Talbott said. “Alive.” He added when he saw the helpless look on her face.

She shook her head. “They’re dead, I know it.”

“No, they’re not.” He insisted. “I will do everything I can, I swear.”

Luna kept shaking her head, but didn’t say anything else. She knew that Talbott is patiently waiting for her to get over the initial shock, so he could bring a unit to examine the crime scene.

“You can’t be on this case.” She said suddenly. “If the moles knew you’re here-“

“Do you really think Death Eaters haven’t came after me already?” he said with a bitter smile. “Trust me, I’ll be fine.”

“If you die in this house too-“

“No one else is going to die.” He reassured her, gently smearing the fresh tears off her cheeks. “We won’t let them get away with it.”

“No,” Luna shook her head and slowly pulled away from him, still holding onto Olivia’s body. “No, it’s my fault. You will die, everyone will die-!”

“Luna.” He said with a firm voice, but the hysteria got the better of her.

“They know. They’re watching me. I have to disappear. That’s the only way.”

“They were after your father regardless.”

“But Olivia!” She whisper-screamed in panic. “They killed her to send a message!”

“We don’t know that yet-“

“I have to go. You have to go!”

He never saw her like this. Even in the worst situations, Luna was always able to keep a calm appearance and stay levelheaded. Losing her entire family in one day was a shock too extreme to handle, even for someone as strong as her.

She quickly pushed herself to her feet, still hanging onto her dead sister, holding her in her arms like an overgrown child. Talbott followed her, but tried to keep a small distance so not to startle her.

“Funeral.” She murmured. “We have to do it quickly.”

“Luna, let’s put Olivia on the couch for a moment-“

Luna turned her back at him and started to walk from the point she was standing to the nearest wall and back.

“We can’t have it out in the open, it has to remain a secret. There’s a muggle-church nearby-“

“Luna, give me Olivia.” Talbott said and tried to remain calm, even though he started to feel the burden of her pain too. Seeing his closest friend in this condition was heartbreaking.

She ignored him. “I… I have a phone. I can call them. I need to find a spot where the magic won’t block the signal.”

“Stop for a second.” He reached out to her, but she dodged his touch.

“Maybe cremation would be the best option-“

“Luna, stop!” he snapped and grabbed her by the wrist. She looked like she’s just woke up from a dream.

“I… I…” she wasn’t able to finish the sentence.

“I know.” He said and very slowly and gently put his arms around Olivia and pulled her from her big sister’s grasp. He laid her down on the couch and got back to Luna, that buried her face in her palms.

“I’ll help with the funeral, we’ll do it as quickly as you want, but first I have to-“

“Yes.” Luna interrupted, lowering her hands and turn to look straight at him. Her gaze was almost soulless. “You need to examine the bodies.”

“I know you probably want to do it yourself, but you’re not in the right state of mind right now.” He pulled her into another embrace. “If we want to catch these fuckers, we have to do it right.”

Luna sighed loudly and wrapped her arms around his torso.

“Fine, I understand.” She said in a monotone voice. “But I’m not leaving them.”

“There’s no need for that.” He said. “You can stay here the whole time, and I’ll be here too. I promise.”

With another long sigh coming out of her mouth, Talbott knew he got through to her.

-----

I know it’s a bit cliche to say that you can split Luna’s life in two - before she lost her family and after she lost her family, but it also very realistic, since a trauma at this scale can change anyone forever.

She was never the same, especially because she lost Olivia as well - the only person she believed could live a happy and normal life out of her entire family.

Also, I know Jacob is absent, it’s because right now he has two potential paths that I haven’t decided on yet - the first where he dies and the second where he survives... You can call him Schrödinger's cat until I pick one. Either way, he wasn’t there when she found the bodies or had the funeral, so in any case he’s irrelevant.

I wrote a bit more about the situation, but I’ll save it for another post!

For those who read the whole thing - I hope you liked it!

[rosaetae]

among the evergreen

☇ “The day you will see two of me is the same day you won't need me unless you say you do”

➣  pairing: reader x jungkook

➣  genre:  christmas themed, modernfantasy!au, e2l!au, fluff

➣  word count: 12.6k

➣  disclaimer:  this is literally an exaggerated satire of Hallmark Christmas movies filled with eggnog crack for the holiday spirit. please do not take this seriously. happy holidays! 

➣  summary: the odd christmas wedding with the odd christmas runaway with the odd christmas adventure with the odd christmas stranger

"You can't be serious right now, ___."

"Hyunjung, I've never been more serious in my entire life." Grabbing a chunk of clothes from your closet that ranged from sweaters to leggings, you shove it into your duffel bag. "This version my parents made of me?— I'm not her. They seriously think they're going to discipline me by selling me off to a man I don't know?"

"Oh, don't be dramatic. They're not selling you off, they just arranged a marriage for you."

You open your mouth, gaping at her. "Even worst! Where's my consent? Where's my sense of individualism?! I'm an adult and yet, they're giving me away to a random person they arranged a marriage with just last year!"

"And may I remind you that you're getting married to that random person in two weeks, ___. Perfect for a Christmas wedding," Hyunjung optimistically exclaims over the FaceTime call, removing her towel that was wrapped around her head and combing her hair with her fingers. "I don't think you should be leaving."

You cringe at her romanticizing an arranged marriage that takes away your sense of freedom.

"No, Hyunjung," you point your lotion bottle in your hand at her. "The version that my parents fabricated of me— she. She's the one getting married in two weeks. I, however, am taking a trip to Europe."

"Europe?" She repeats, nearly gaping at the sound of that. "That's why you need me to drop you off at the airport? Europe? Are you joking me?"

You nearly snort, folding one of your t-shirts messily and tossing it into the duffel. "You thought I was joking when I took that trip to Greece by myself. Does it look like I'm joking?"

"Insane. You're absolutely insane."

"I hope you say that in a good way," you throw a wink at her.

"You cannot be serious."

"And why not? I'm my own adult! I can go to another country myself. Plus, you remember Hana, right? She offered a place for me to stay in London."  

Hyunjung raises her eyebrows. "And you're sure Hana is going to let you into her humble abode and take you in?"

"98% sure," you pause for a moment, continuing on to your last minute packing of shoving whatever you could into a duffel. "The 2% is only if I actually get there before she leaves for Amsterdam."

"Wait, what?"

"I should be getting there before Tuesday night, hopefully. If not, then I'm stuck to tend to a motel for a couple of nights until she comes back from finishing that research project in Amsterdam," you snort. "Which will be unlikely. I scheduled a plane for Italy that leaves tonight. From there, I have to take a bus to Belgium to take a ferry to London, so essentially I should be there before Monday."

"Why not take a straight plane to London?" Hyunjung inquires, evidently confused to your excessive and over-the-top plan.

"Where's the fun in that?" You chuckle, grabbing your backpack. "Do you wanna hear my plan that I originally called you for?"

Hyunjung makes a motion with her hand, urging you to proceed into such plan that you always make up to escape your drowning parents.

"A couple nights ago, I bought a plane ticket to Italy. I went to a travel advisor today and paid for a bus and a ferry with cash. This way, my parents will simply think I'm in Italy and while they'll most likely hold this whole huge crazy man hunt for me in Milan, I'll be in London, living my own life, single as a bird. Maybe drinking tea with the queen, perhaps."

The thin look Hyunjung plasters on her face is as if she was talking to someone who told her that she was having twins— maybe even triplets.

"Okay," she begins slowly, squeezing lotion into her hands. "Where do I lie in all of this?"

"What?" Narrowing your eyes at her mischievously, you smirk. "You think you have a role in my plan to be set free?"

"I have a role in any devious plan you make up in your head to get the hell away from your, and I quote, "insane, restricting puppeteers of parents"," she scoffs, making you laugh. "Now what is it? Do you want me to lie to them that you're in Italy?"

"See, you're already ahead of the game!"

She rolls her eyes.

"I just need you to lie that I did go to Italy only for a few weeks and if they press you, just tell them that that's all I told you. Easy."

"Yeah, until your parents try to blackmail me."

"They've never blackmailed you."

"Yeah," she exclaims before biting her lip. "But they could!"

"They won't do that," you roll your eyes at them. Sure your parents are strict, but they find blackmail a bit too extra. "Look, are you going to pick me up soon or not? I have a flight to catch."

"Yeah, yeah," she sighs. "I'll leave in five."

The parents that you call yours were indescribably suffocating.

Over-exaggerating, but you do try to peer at it from their perspective, but all you see is publicity and reputation in a string of lies and facades— all of which is clearly evident because you were grown up to keep such a good reputation.

Daughter of a CEO of an oil company and a broadway star, your life was bound to be molded into the flawless model of what a family should be. From the fake smiles on the news to having to be present at elite parties that nearly make you want to rip your brain out, doing one wrong thing would be an instant detrimental effect to your family.

And being tired of having to keep an ideal picture during the day, you sneak out during the night under fake names and fake personas— you are not the daughter of two important people, you are yourself.

Not getting caught was your specialty. It progressed well over time, knowing how well you can harbor in the dark for so long without being exposed, but that week-long trip to Greece was what probably ruined your streak when your mother found out you were not on that school trip upstate, but you were oceans away, relaxing in the nice beaches of Corfu.

Maybe then your mother has gone insane trying to maintain a good reputation for you, but an arranged marriage? Something they've never told you about since two weeks ago? Hell, you were going to drop everything and go off grid just for the arranged marriage to not happen.

And that's exactly what you're going to do.

The current position you're, unfortunately, in is not ideal to your original plan you have set out for yourself.

Muscles growing tired, you've become exhausted, a tad bit dehydrated, and you had an odd craving for something with chocolate. And to tie it all off, your bus driver had just announced they are scheduled to depart a little later than usual as you sat at the window seat, pondering about the extra time you could've used to get a bottle of water and maybe some fudge brownies from the store, but sacrificing this seat is not apart of your plan.

So you sit there, watching strangers trickle in slowly to find seats on the bus, and thankfully none of them took the chance to sit in the empty seat next to you. As you finally grow a comfort in your seat, ignoring your growing dehydration and aching muscles, you may have spoke too soon when you felt the bus almost shake by how the one stranger slipped into the seat next to you with heavy momentum.

Glimpsing at the panting stranger, you shift your crossed legs to point towards the window. You don't see his face well enough, but you didn't show much care when you lay back into your seat. "Woah there, cowboy, we depart in twenty. You didn't have to rush and crash into this seat beside me."

"What?" He says, breathlessly. You can tell from the corner of your eye, he's giving you a questionable look. "It's supposed to depart at 10:30."

Snorting, you fix your posture. "Yeah, well, delays happen, big guy. It's going to be 11 now. Nice entrance."

As you peek at him, he don't miss the eyebrow he raises at you. Settling in nicely beside you, he holds out his hand in a polite manner. "Jungkook."

You glance at his hand and back at him, going back to leaning your head against the head support. "Hi."

"Ah," he takes his hand back after he notices you not taking it. "So you're going to make me ask you for your name?"

You arch an eyebrow at him. "I'm not making you do anything?"

"I introduced myself. It's a common courtesy to at least share a name back, but seeing that you didn't tell me your name, you're in turn ruining that common courtesy by having me ask you for your name."

"Or I'd rather keep my name to myself than reveal it to an utter stranger," you smile. "Nice try, but you haven't earned my trust enough to know my name."

He has a fixed gaze on you. "Did you want my life story in exchange?"

"That depends. How badly do you want to know my name?"

"Well," he lets out a dramatic sigh. "When I was little, my mom and dad got divorced and my mom married another man—"

"Hmm, see, " you cut him off. "I can't even trust that's a real story. Guess we're better off as strangers."

He chuckles as you close your eyes.

And that's how you shut him up from then, when the began to depart, and in the midst of just entering the freeway when you make the mistake of grabbing a small bag of pretzels from your backpack and sitting back to eat them in hopeful silence.

"Why are you heading to Brussels?" The stranger asks mid-crunch of your pretzel.

Your eyes widen slightly by the sudden question, before you're shrugging at him in response. "None of your business."

It would be easy to tell him that you're only there to catch a ferry, but along with that will follow up more questions— talking to him was draining enough.  

He lets out a light scoff. "A simple question."

"That's none of your business."

Jungkook cocks his head to the side as you're chewing on your pretzels. "Are you always this hard to crack?"

"Are you always this annoying?"

"Not really, but it's definitely getting a rise out of you."

"So I sit next to a dipshit named Jungkook who probably has daddy issues," you throw at him, referring to his previous said fact about him to exchange for your name. "Long hours ahead of us."

"And I, for one, intend to make the most out of it by trying to get to know you."

You snort, pulling out your earphones from your pocket, closing your eyes for the last time until the next stop. "Good luck."

Fortunately for you, when they flutter open, the bus had made a stop in the middle of a venue with greens and whites that catches your eye as you peer out the window. Making it quick, the bus driver announces for a 20 minute break parked in the Swiss Alps, instructing where the bathroom is and demonstrating a shop just in sight.

"Finally," you breathe in relief, feeling your dehydration grow with each second.

You ignore Jungkook and the fact that he was blocking you just slightly to take your break when you squeeze your way between him and the seat, making room for yourself between the people packing in the bus aisle to leave the bus as well.

The air was crisp and your breath was evident every time you exhaled, taking you aback by the wonders of the place around you. The skies were grey, but the massive trees and the sparkling fresh snow of the woods is what makes you wide-eyed.

And you think about how there are so many wonders in the world that your parents have not made you seen. Sure, you've visited Switzerland, but only for pure business. Never once were you told that you could explore and initiate that wanderlust that always grew inside of you when you're away from home.

Taking your boots and trudging through the snow, you follow the flock of people from the bus who are noticeably going inside one of the small wooden buildings or heading to where the restroom signs were.

Grabbing a water bottle along with a bag of chocolate-covered almonds, you're about to buy something with the cash you exchanged with Swiss Franc, when you tiredly see that the line was taking awhile. Letting out a yawn, you divert your attention out the window, only to see something interesting just nearby.

It was a cottage that looked completely different from the similar buildings like the store you're in. Squinting, your curiosity gets the best of you as you're trying to get a better look of it, noticing that there evident trails of moss on the roof, creating a rustic aura, as well as interesting charms being hung on the patio.

You wonder what's inside, completely enchanted by its appearance and its—

"What are you buying?" The voice of your familiar, annoying seat partner appears by your side, causing you to jump out of your thoughts and to scowl at his arrival.

"You don't ever know how to leave someone alone, huh?" You sarcastically grin to which he responds with a smirk, shaking his head.  

"Just you."

You give him a look before you're buying it. "Give me some space, Jungkook."

"I don't know if you're allowed to say my name when I don't know yours, gingercake."

You give him a fake smile before you were finally next in line and Jungkook seemingly follows you to the register. When you notice he's beside you empty-handed, you give him a pointed look. "You're not buying anything?"

"No," he replies. "I don't need anything."

"So, you're just here to annoy me then."

"Essentially," he laughs before he nods his head to a certain direction. "You noticed the cottage out there, too?"

"Quite creepy that you're watching me, don't you think?"

He shrugs. "Think of it what you will. But you didn't answer my question."

"I don't answer to strangers."

"But we're not," he says. "We're bus buddies."

"No," you cringe at the term he made for both of you as you grab the receipt and your snacks. "No, we're not."

Before he would say anything more, you make a hurried walk for the door, back turned to him.

"Oh, come on," he persists as he tries to walk beside you. "Is your name embarrassing, or something?"

"My name is none of your business."

"You're being so stubborn over a little thing. Are you like a wanted criminal? Is that why?"

You gasp dramatically as if he was correct. "Yes! Right on the nose!"

"Come on," he continues, knowing very well your sarcasm was not a pretty trait on you. "I'm not a snitch either way."

"No, but you do know how to get on my nerves."

"That hurts," he chuckles. "Come on, it's just a name—?"

You turn over to him in brooding irritation. "That you don't deserve to know, end of discussion. Jungkook, please, I am of little importance to you and you to me. Not knowing my name won't hurt you in the long run. So please, can I spend the rest of this bus ride without you bombarding me asking me what my name is?"

Jungkook looks at you before he puts his hands up in defeat. "Fine. But for the record, I have never met anyone so protective over something so little like their name."

"And I've never met someone so pushy, but here we are—" As you turn around, you notice that the bus was gone and your eyes widened.

"No, no, no," you mutter before you're sprinting towards the road and just there, the bus was moving further down the winding road, growing tinier within the second.

"Great! How absolutely peachy! We missed our bus!" You groan, removing your beanie from your head, exasperated. You turn over at Jungkook who just so happens to finally catch up to you, noticing the reason for your distress.

"It's fine, don't panic."

You turn over to face towards the standing dumbass with a baffled look. "We're in the middle of the fucking Swiss Alps, idiot! There is no service here. How the hell are we going to get to Brussels now?"

"Look, just calm down. Let's go inside and see if the cashier can help."

However, going into the store didn't help when the lady at the store didn't have any type of phone to help you contact anyone, nor was she interested in helping you both so she pointed you towards the cottage you happened to stare at earlier.

At first, you didn't oppose the idea, very curious as to what this cottage has to offer. And when you step onto the patio and a notice a wooden sign that says open, Jungkook is the first to turn the knob and take a step.

Remarkably, you're not walking in with fear, but you're walking in with a curious mind— and when you happen to step inside, you're not quite disappointed.

It was breathtaking— something you've never seen before. There were rows and rows of jars filled with herbs of sorts and odd colorful gems and crystals were displayed with the occasional plants that hung from the ceiling. A bucolic, yet eerie feeling was blossoming in your chest that you don't notice that you've walked farther in than Jungkook.

"Hello?" Jungkook calls aloud. You peer behind yourself, noticing his wandering eyes as you turn your head back front, focusing on the table with a crystal ball.

"Hello, is anyone here?" Jungkook tries again as you wonder where every single ancient thing came from before the sound of foot steps makes you pause, moving backwards to stand behind Jungkook.

"Visitors?" A voice of whom you'd assume belonged to a female spoke aloud in the unreal way possible.

As she makes an appearance coming out of one of the corridors, you notice that out gracefully comes a woman of red hair and piercing green eyes, lips decorated in berry and cheeks of a deep plum. Her clothing was almost a gypsy, but she wore a coat of fur over the gold jewelry she wore on her neck and hips.

"And what is this?" She brings a finger to her lips in utter astonishment and peculiarity, eyes narrowing to focus on you and Jungkook. "A wreath's bond?"

A what bond? You think.

Jungkook and you take a moment to glance at each other, exchanging odd looks before looking back at the woman who was shuffling towards the circular table with the crystal ball sitting in the center of it.

"Ah, you two don't know," she observes, laughing hysterically and taking a seat. You're confused, but there was an odd feeling in your stomach that seemed to give some sort of trust to her. "Come, you two. Sit. I have a feeling about you both."

"Actually," Jungkook begins, grabbing your wrist and preventing you from moving towards her. "We were told that you would know how to get to the nearest bus station."

Her head snaps up, and lets out a scoff. "By who?"

"Lady in the gift shop," you answer. "They had no phone, but she told us to come here."

"That damn grinch. Always tells visitors to come here when they need a phone or directions."

"Well, do you?" You ask politely.

"This is the Alps, honey-pie. There is no such thing as service here."

"Great, she sees you as food," Jungkook whispers quietly down to you. "She's going to eat us."

The joke that comes from Jungkook makes you nudge him with your elbow, releasing yourself from his grasp that you didn't realize was still there.

"Is there a bus stop nearby?" You try.

"Not nearby, but I can lead you to a village just an hour travel by walking... well, it's more of a ski resort, but surely there's people there willing to help."

"Where is it?"

She's silent before she's patting on the table, motioning you both to sit.

Jungkook and you hesitate, but you're the first to move, walking towards the lady who could easily kill you, but emanates curiosity that even you couldn't resist. Jungkook follows after you, sitting in the chair across from yours.

"Let me see your hands," she says, palms outwards, awaiting your hands. However, you were reluctant, looking up at Jungkook who was shaking his head discreetly. "Oh, I promise I won't bite. I'm Evanora, the friendly witch of the east."

"A witch?"

"That could explain the crystal ball," Jungkook nods, staring directly at the iridescent ball sitting on the table.

"What did you think I was?" She inquires, a berry-lipped smile on her face. "And the crystal ball is just for decoration. Now, hands. Give."

You, with a slight bit of reluctance, gives your hand to her, Jungkook following after you as the witch throws a smile, to which she closes her eyes and slightly squeezes.

You meet Jungkook's smile he was trying to prevent by the odd circumstance you both were in, you shrugging in uncertainty before Evanora opens her eyes.

She nods, pointing outside her window. "If you go down the trail, you will see cabins."

"Wait, that's it?" Pressing her, you were immediately concerned as to what she saw.

"What I saw," she pats your hand in an eerie manner. "Shouldn't be said."

You open your mouth, curious as to what on earth she could possibly have seen that's making her bite back a smile. Eyes peering over to Jungkook, you shake your head. "It doesn't matter anyways," you scrunch your eyebrows at her words. "Trail? What trail?"

"Packed up by snow. But if you follow the opening of those trees, you will find the village." She gives a smile before it immediately fades.

"What?" Jungkook presses, noticing her mood change.

"I must warn you, there are winter elves ahead."

"Elves," you blink.

"Like Santa's elves?"

"Winter elves," she nods. "Do not interact with them. They tend to distract you from your purpose. And they like to steal anything shiny."

"You can't be serious," you arch an eyebrow.

"You've met a witch. Is it really that hard to believe?" Evanora says as she stands. "Go, embark on your journey, but I will tell you this—"

Jungkook stands quite abruptly, seemingly ready to leave the cabin of Evanora's while you stand up slowly, awaiting for Evanora to finish. "Lose one another, you will lose the purpose."

"We won't lose each other," you promise.  

"I have a feeling that you may," she quietly says, but it was audible for you to hear. "And when you must, your wreath's bond will find you both again."

Scrunching your eyebrows together at the phrase, you're about to open your mouth to ask for explanation.

Immediately, the witch puts her finger up to silence you before she smirks. "The day you will see two of me is the same day you won't need me unless you say you do."

The two of you searched for the opening of the immense and jaw-dropping trees before you, noticing the snow, as Evanora said, being packed up on a trail, however that didn't stop the two of you from walking down the trail.

When you first begin walking, Jungkook is quiet, knowing that you're in your thoughts. And he was right. The so-called witch made you more concerned, especially after she held your hands and said she couldn't say what she saw. You think of the bad things that she must've seen, ranging from a terrible accident or a betrayal or anything that would bring you in harms way.

"Come on, you actually believe she's an actual witch?" Jungkook asks all of a sudden. He must have noticed your brain turning in the silence. "She didn't give us the best directions. She told us to find a ski resort where someone can help us."

"The day you will see two of me is the same day you won't need me unless you say you do," you say aloud, slowly. "What does she mean?"

"Just a whole lot of mumbo jumbo to me," he postulates. "She was probably just saying shit out of her ass." When he sees that you've paused, Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you. "You're not telling me you actually believe in that nonsense?"

"I'm superstitious. I believe in ghosts, aliens, mermaids. A witch doesn't sound like nonsense."

Embarrassed wasn't the word you'd say you felt when Jungkook looks at you, flabbergasted after you decree that you believe in the supernatural. Maybe a tad bit awkward, but seeing that he lets out a chuckle, you purse your lips. "You've read Harry Potter, haven't you?"

"No. No, I haven't actually. I just believe in a little bit of magic, that's all."

"I still think the winter elves is a load of bullshit," he states. "Come on. Elves?"

"Yeah," you nod, semi-lying. "Yeah, I know."

From then on, it felt exhausting.

The continuous trudging in the snow with heavy boots felt overtiring, but determination was your factor that kept you persisting. You couldn't afford to miss a day— not when you didn't think of pulling out enough cash from the bank, so paying for a couple of nights at a motel in London will surely give your location away to your parents who are probably on a manhunt for you.

Just then, Jungkook, who was in front of you, stops.

It makes you bump into him, looking up from the white snow to give him a questioning look. Seeing that he points at something in front of him, you glance at the direction, noticing evident small houses that were seemingly built by branches scattered amongst the area.

"Is this it? Are these the winter elves we have to worry about? Oh man, I sure hope they don't eat my toes!" Jungkook howls, hands on his stomach as he pokes at one of the houses on a tree stump. "Oh no, I wonder if they're magical. Are they gonna freeze us to death?"

You stand up straight, rolling your eyes at him. "Pipe the fuck down, asshole," you scold him, punching his shoulder.

"Oh, come on, did you really believe there would be winter elves? Elves? Please, these are houses made out of branches that a hiker probably made—"

His words were muted out when your ears catching something similar to a musical pipe.

"Shh," you bring a finger to his mouth. "Do you hear that?"

Jungkook's words are mute with your finger pressed against his lips while your ears try to pick up what sounded more clearly like a faint flute folk song.

Scrunching his eyebrows, he brings a hand to your wrist, removing your hand from his lips and stares at you intently. Gazing up to him, you stand still when he comes near to you, bringing his previously muted lips to your ear.

"That's the wind," he whispers, causing you to exasperatingly sigh, lifting your hands to push him away as he cackles loudly that he was clenching his stomach once more.

Annoyed wasn't a term you'd settle with how you were feeling at the moment, but as you stand there, with arms crossed over your body, you wait for him to shut up. "For gods sake, come on."

Grabbing his arm, you continue to walk along the veiled trail, his laughter fading away after a long time, and once it did, your breath nearly stops when ahead you see a spread of lights.

"Is that it? The ski resort she was talking about?" Jungkook asks, panting as you shrug, continuing to walk as you saw people in layers walk around. You admire the colors they were wearing, some were neutrals, but some wore festive colors of red and green, gold and white.

"Come on, old man," you tell him as he was trailing further from you.

"Slow down a little bit, would you?" He calls for you as you throw a grin at him, turning back around to keep walking on the cobblestone sidewalk, mesmerized by the village.

After a few steps of being mesmerized of the things around you, you turn around, noticing that you weren't the only thing mesmerized by the things around you, but when you see Jungkook being swept away off his feet into what seems to be a pub by a strand of golden hair, you're once again, annoyed.

Pursing your lips, you let out a sigh and turn around, beginning to walk down the street, easily letting your contempt ease off your chest as you try to look for someone to help by yourself. You didn't even care if you were going to have to leave this ski resort by yourself, that was your whole purpose.

You walk further down, watching in awe as the people decorate their exteriors, putting up tinsel, lights and garlands, those carrying a fresh tree into their homes, and those carrying stacks of presents, curious at how festive the place was being.

Stopping in front of a store, you stare from the outside, admiring the exterior before your eyes narrow, attempting to peek inside the store.

First, you see a spectrum of colors of what your eyes focused to be wrapping paper of different designs and patterns galore. You think it's a gift store, but then, you observe that there are people in rows, wrapping boxes in a quick and swift motion. At first, you're marveling at how fast they're wrapping, tying it all off with a bow on top and tossing it in a pile of other finished presents before you're thinking they resemble something so familiar that—

You're distracted.

Realizing this, you tear your eyes away from the store, continuing to walk, searching for someone who was not tending to decorating or not busy in this ski resort to help you, only when you reach a revelation.

This was no ski resort— at least one without a ski left. And as if Evanora's raspy voice was echoing in your ear, you realize the mistake that you and Jungkook made; you separated.

It is with no hesitation that you're walking with a brisk pace, others on the street looking up at the foreigner walking towards the pub in such a hurry.

You pull on the door, a bell indicating that customer walked in, eyes searching for the person you were warned not to split from, implicitly ignoring that others were looking at you with a strange curiosity.

Walking inside and letting the door shut behind you, your eyes graze upon the small pub before they stop to the familiar raven-haired boy talking to the blonde in which her pernicious coquetry was evident even from afar.

You're about to grab Jungkook from his arm in attempt to drag him away, but you stop when you see that the blonde seductively takes a finger to his neck, tracing a line down his throat to hook her finger along the silver chain that was tucked under his shirt.

Nearly vomiting whatever was in your stomach at the sight in front of you, you crinkle your nose in utter remorse when Jungkook looks at her up and down, a smirk on his face.

The sight merely makes you leave the pub, until you turn around adamantly, only to remember what Evanora was saying— they tend to distract you from your purpose.

Groaning distinctly, you whip towards the idiot and the seducing winter elf, clearing your throat at the two who were sharing a laugh together.

"Oh, hey," Jungkook looks up at you briefly before looking back at the blonde. "There you are. Where were you?"

"Can I grab you for a second?" You say oddly sweetly, feigning the blonde a friendly smile lifted by your cheeks in which she returns one politely before going back to drinking from her cup. Without even hearing Jungkook try to object, you grab his arm hastily and take him outside.

Jungkook stumbles over his feet for a moment before the crisp winter air hits both of your faces on impact. "Woah there, gingercake. What's going on?" Even with a tug, it doesn't loosen your grip from his arm as you try to drag him away from the pub as fast as possible.

"We're leaving," you utter, but hearing that, Jungkook immediately stops, your turn to be the one stumbling.

Turning around with a huff, you give him a scowl, letting your hand that was digging into his arm go. He opens his mouth, his narrow eyes questioning your motive. "Why?"

"Jungkook, just listen to me."

He crosses his arms across his chest, a smug painting his features. "What if I don't want to?"

You half-heartedly scoff at him, shrugging. "Fine, then stay. I couldn't care less."

He opens his mouth to say something, but even when he could even process words to elicit, you're already turning around again, eyes focusing on the horizon that's being set as your only goal and focus. As you walk ahead with persistence, you curse in your head for even being kind enough to get him out a situation that could easily have him stripped.  

"Hey, woah," Jungkook jogs up to reach in front of you. Stopping to raise an eyebrow at him, you observe him as he gives you an uncertain look. "Is that jealousy in your voice?"

"How rich," you scoff. "Jungkook, I am anything but jealous right now, and you're really testing me." Moving around him, you continuing to walk before he stops you again, looking around to find a gap between stores, pulling you to the side from the strangers who were walking past you both.

"You are!" He exclaims once he successfully pulls you away.

"Jungkook," you exasperate, before lowering your voice. "This is not the ski resort. This is the village Evanora warned us about."

"What?"

"You were flirting with a winter elf, idiot," you whisper loudly. "This is not a ski resort, it's a village of winter elves."

Jungkook half-heartedly laughs, shaking his head. When he sees that your face was anything but amused, his face morphs into confusion. "No, there's no such thing as—"

Rolling your eyes, you shut him up by moving closer to him, eyes not tearing away from his when you bring your finger to his neck, which ultimately makes him freeze at your sudden movements. As you're tracing down his throat, you don't think of anything more as you yank down the collar of his shirt, only to reveal what you originally suspected.

"Where's your necklace, Jungkook?" You ponder, your eyes never leaving his. Jungkook hesitates before he removes his eyes from yours and looks down, your hand not leaving its current state and exposing his bare, pale chest.

He inhales sharply before you finally let your hand go, waiting for his eyes to meet yours again. You take a step back, crossing your arms with slight arrogance as you offer an amused smile.

"She was trying to seduce you, Jungkook," you state. "So she could steal. She obviously did a good job when she made you forget your purpose and stole your necklace."

"For fuck's sake," Jungkook curses, running a hand through his hair. You were close to tell him 'I told you so', but you refrain when he takes your wrist and drags you out of the opening. "Let's go."

The scenery was beautiful, with the green hues that contrasted with the white that was almost so bright it blinded you, but with the little bit of sun that peeked from the clouds, you couldn't help but get distracted with everything around you.

It almost makes you feel like you don't have a crazy dad or an insane mother that expect you to be home in perfect condition just to sell you off to someone you don't know.

You must have been mindlessly walking and trudging in the snow with your boots nearly weighing you down because just when you bump into something, you're about to curse at yourself for being stupid to walk into a tree. That is, until you realize it wasn't a tree, it was Jungkook's form, who had idiotically taken a halt that caused you to bump into him.

"Jungkook—"

"Look," he cuts you off. Peering over his shoulder, your reaction had shifted from annoyance to awe when you notice that the evergreens weren't the only wonder.

Walking down to the ski resort was just over a hill, trudging over inches of snow and having to make sure not to fall face forward. Jungkook eventually sees a bit of struggle coming from you— to which, in your defense, he has an advantage due to his elongated legs— and reaches out to your for support. However, your adamancy slaps his hand away, continuing to walk over the hill to see more of the lights that contrasted the nearing night sky.

"Hey, question," he inquires aloud once the snow had reached scarce and just ahead were the many wooden buildings with warm lights.

Nodding, you spare him a glance, breathing almost heavy as you both continue to walk. "Shoot."

"Don't you think you could've stopped her when she was stealing my necklace?"

Jungkook reaches to your side as you both reach the icy street where people were bundled in clothes. What reassured you were the group of people walking down the street across from you, carrying their snowboarding gear inside a building, their laughter echoing down the streets.

Without pondering, you shrug. "I wasn't the one flirting with her."

"I'm going to ignore your raging jealousy here and ask you one more time—"

"Jungkook, I wasn't the idiot who easily got distracted and forgot what Evanora said," you cut him off. "She said that, lose each other you lose your purpose— and while you were being whisked away by some winter elf, I was trying to find someone to help us. It's not jealousy, it's called not being stupid."

"Great," he exhales deeply. You don't miss the stress that elicited along with it, you cocking your head to the side in sudden curiosity.

"Why? Was it important?"

He waves you off. "It was just a family necklace, that's all."

"A family necklace," you repeat, before scrunching your eyebrows. "Sounds pretty important to me."

"Doesn't matter anymore," he shakes his head as you both continue to walk down the village. "It's gone now."

Feeling a tad bit sympathetic, you reach up to him, matching his pace. "This," you say as you pull out your hand from your pocket. "This was handed to me by my mother which was given by her mother and by her mother and by her mother."

He peers down at your frozen hands, eyeing the ring. "What does the leaf mean?"

You don't tell him that the leaf meant growth.

In your mother's line of successful women, the ring was always passed down so long as there would be potential demonstrated. Your grandmother, being a former model, and your mother, having to be a broadway musical star, you were seen to have potential to be an heiress of the company your father runs— but it's too bad you distasted such high expectations. Hell, you were even willing to have the elves steal this rather Jungkook's necklace when all you're doing is creating a ruination in your line of successful women.

"It's alright," Jungkook says, shaking his head after noticing your reluctance. "You won't tell me your name, I can't expect you to tell me the meaning of your family ring."

At first, you're taken aback at how easy that was for him to say that, especially after trying to have you choke out your name. You stare, flabbergasted but almost grateful he didn't try to push this time.

"The necklace was given to me by my uncle from my mother's side," Jungkook explains nonchalantly as you both unconsciously walk towards the line of cabins that most likely held travelers. "Said he'd give it to his son if it weren't for the fact that his wife can only reproduce daughters."

Snorting, you quirk a smile at him. "How many daughters does he have?"

"Five," he chuckles. "All of who are very, very annoying."

"Why's that?"

"Annoying in a way that they're disgustingly successful," he says. "Runs in the blood except for mine."

To that, you let out a snigger. "I can definitely relate to that."

"What's this?" He laughs. "We're actually having a decent conversation?"

Rolling your eyes, you give him a nudge, shaking your head.

And oddly enough, for once the silence when both of your laughter dies isn't awkward— it's not tension nor is it uncomfortable. It's almost pleasant.

Jungkook, silently, looks at you in a peculiar fond way that makes you slow down your pace a bit. Your insides twist and turn in your stomach at the way he just stares at you without so much of a word— as if he's either judging you or he's admiring you, in which you're hoping deep down it's the former.

You're exhaling a shuddering breath when you desperately decide to ruin the moment, taking one of your hands out of your pocket at pointing at one of the cabins. "Over there," you declare, cheeks beginning to redden. "Let's try over there."

And you do not miss a second to speed up your pace, careful on the slippery street not to slip, hearing Jungkook walking behind you.

When you finally reach to a random cabin with a car parked outside, you're silently hoping that they would answer the door to two strangers.

And with each second passed and your hopes were falling, you hear the door unlatch, your ears perking at the sound when the door opens. A man, wearing a red plaid flannel and a black beanie opens it with a confused look.

"Hello?" He asks and your eyes light up.

"Hi!" You cheerily state, relieved that someone was even willing to open the door. "Sorry to be such a bother, but we're stranded and we were hoping if you knew where the nearest bus station is?"

The stranger nods with a warm smile. "It's down the hill, actually. Quite a trip on foot."

"Is it?" Jungkook asks. "Are there any taxis or maybe Ubers that you know of that's available here?"

The stranger shakes his head. "Nope, but I'd be gladly to drop you guys off there."

"Wait, really?" You ask in surprise, looking at Jungkook with excited eyes. "That'd be really great!"

"Of course," he gleams. "I'm assuming you both need to get to your families for Christmas."

Jungkook and you exchange glances. "Something like that."

"I'll let my wife know and grab the keys."

"Thank you!" You call out, the door being left a crack open as you turn over with Jungkook with excitement. You're nearly about to squeal when Jungkook gives this uncertain look that throws your whole excitement out the window. "Alright, what's in your panties that got you in a twist?"  

"You really trust this guy?"

Your expression falls, shrugging. "He's got a car— unless you want to walk another who-knows miles on foot by yourself?"

"We can't trust everyone we meet, you know."

Ironic he said that. Your expressions falls as you narrow your eyes. "Says the one who trusted a winter elf."

Sure, pettiness could be drawn from tHe opens his mouth to make a riposte, but the stranger comes back with his keys and a coat over his shoulders.

"I'm Seokjin, by the way," he introduces himself as he unlocks the car, both you and Jungkook sitting the backseat. He turns the engine on, immediately turning on the heater that felt like cold air at first.

When he backs up out of the snow without the problem of getting stuck, you feel your body at ease as you finally realize that your plan was setting back on track.

Seokjin speaks up, apparently disliking the silence that you both elicited. "How did you guys get stranded?"

"Our bus left without us," you tell him. "It was his fault."

Jungkook gapes at your accusation. "Oh, nice, we're pointing fingers now?"

Couldn't help but laugh in return, you counterfeit a smile. "Can't deny it."

"You know, for a person to look so nice," Jungkook tilts his head to the side. "You're an absolute pain."

"Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee," you send a wink his way, immediately frowning afterwards. "Piss off, Jungkook."

"Love to, gingercake, but looks like we're stuck with each other for—"

And just then, Jungkook's voice trails off by the sonorous jolly laugh that comes from the man  in the front seat. You turn your attention to him, wondering why on earth he would be laughing. "Sorry. You both remind me of my wife and I."

"What?" Jungkook and you say in unison.

"We used to banter like that a lot."

To that, you snort. "Banter is an understatement. Can't help it when he's a walking idiot."

"And she's a headache in human form," Jungkook pipes in, to which you glare in return.

"Well, my wife used to call me dick for brains," he adds, a jolly chuckle following after as he reminisces his memory lane. "But, I guess I must have warmed up to her if she somehow let dick for brains marry her."

"Yeah, well, she's much more stubborn and colder than that. I don't even know her name."

"You don't?" His eyes peer in the rearview mirror to give us a glance.

"We just met. And besides," you reason, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. "It's not important."

It really wasn't. Your name isn't really your identity when all you think about when you hear it is high expectations. If you let your name be known, everyone is bound to find out who you are and eventually— with word getting around— your mother will find out where you are running away to.

Sure, you could make up a fake name, but you'd be creating bridges even after this trip you know you're going to have to burn them.

He chuckles. "I remember my wife being that stubborn. She really wanted me to give up on her."

"I'm guessing you didn't," you observe.

"She was worth all the constant banters, I'll tell you that," he shakes his head. "Once, she didn't want to admit she was sorry for keeping us a secret from her friends and family. It took her three months of guilt to finally say sorry."

"Three months?" Jungkook ponders. Seokjin nods behind the wheel.  

"It took her time to tell her friends and family about us, but she eventually apologized."

"She must have been scared to want to hide it from them."

The idiot next to you snorts. "Or embarrassed."

"Scared," he answers. "Which is why I forgave her the day I found out about it."

"And you let her feel guilty for three months?"

"I knew she was sorry from the beginning. I just didn't think that the most adamant person in the world would even think of apologizing to me," he chuckles. "But hey, eventually she did."  

To that, Jungkook lets out a chuckle before he's making a trip around the roundabout, making a stop in front of a wide building.

"Here's your stop," he says, putting the car in park. "You two have a nice Christmas, alright?"

You smile at him. "You and your wife as well. Thank you again for helping us."

He shoots you a smile just before you close the car door. "Anytime."

When you hurry inside the bus station, you totally forget about the time until you see it on the massive clock built in the station, and you sincerely hope that the next bus ride to Brussels would be in the next 2 hours. Luckily, as you and Jungkook stood in line for awhile, you both get a ticket for the next bus to your destination which comes in the next twenty minutes.

And as you're trying to forage for remaining cash, you realize that you were short. Jungkook must have noticed this when he coolly steps up and gives his cash, paying for his and your ticket. You look at him, surprised, when they give two tickets to him.

"You didn't need to do that," you utter to him as he gives your ticket.

He shoots you a winning smile, a wink following after. "All you have to say is thank you."

The entire trip of having to hike down the woods was more exhausting than the plane ride to Milan that you couldn't help yourself when you fall asleep on the bus ride. Jungkook must have knocked out too when you wake up in the middle of a bus stop, head on his shoulder.

You think of the possible reason as to why he would be going to Brussels. After all, this whole trip was of him trying to ask questions of you, not the other way around. And it's not like you weren't interested— it wasn't your priority to get to know someone you won't end up knowing in the next week anyways.

Because like everything in the world, not everything is permanent.

You let your head fall onto his shoulder once more, basking in the comfort that will only last for so long.

Getting off the bus at your desired location, you both realize that it reached dusk, the sun had made its set and the night has become dark. It made a stop just nearby a grand area of colorful lights that intrigued you from afar.

You turn around to face Jungkook who stretches as he hops off the bus. Shooting tired smile your way, you decide to give one back.

"Do you want to go see what's over there?" You ask him, nodding your head towards the place that caught your attention.

His eyes flicker from what you were indicating to yours, a mischievous look painting over his former tired one before he angles his arm, in which you gladly take as you both make way to the bright, shining lights before you.

It doesn't take you long to realize that it's some sort of Christmas Market, as advertised by some of the posters that you saw on the way to the big area.

There were chatters and squeals and Christmas songs galore and despite the weather being cold and brisk, you felt warm.

Saying that there were colorful lights would be an understatement, when really, the Christmas Market looked like an utter theme park within itself. The tall, elongated buildings were decorated from head to toe and even the gazebos that gave shelter to those selling— it was all breathtaking.

It must have taken Jungkook's breath away too when you catch him eye goggling at the many fascinating attractions around him.

"So," you begin, ready to take your first bite from your waffle that Jungkook bought for you after he saw you eyeing it from afar. "Why did you want to come to Brussels?"

The questions surprises him, but his answer was responded with ease. "To start anew."

"Does it have to do with the whole success-running-in-family's-blood-besides-yours thing?"

"You could see it that way," he chuckles. "Or simply because life as it is now for me isn't exciting."

You give him a look, lowering your waffle. "You sound discontent."

"And you sound like you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Chuckling, you shrug. "Well, I'll just say that my trip isn't so much of a nice vacation."

"Hm, you sound tired of the life you have."

"Sounds like you know exactly what I'm talking about."

And with that, both of your words are left in the air as you both are walking down, side by side, down the streets of the brightly lit Christmas market, being thousands of miles away from home.

In your own thoughts, you think about the what if's. What if you didn't hear your parents talk about an arranged marriage for you? What if you actually were forced into it like everything you've ever done in your life? What if you're walking down the aisle to meet a man you haven't even said one word to? What if you end up not loving him?

This wasn't any type of romantic story where two strangers eventually fall in love through force, this is was an ending to your own story. Realistically, there's a chance that the person you're going to marry isn't the prince charming or the knight in shining armor that anyone would expect.

And there goes your life.

Gone and wasted, and not being able to give it a second chance.

However, you weren't letting that happen now— not at this moment in time.

"Do you think that such high expectations can be overbearing?" You ponder out loud, glancing at Jungkook who was a bit startled by your sudden question.

"A lot of the times," he responds. "Why? What type of high expectations are you being held to?"

"Doing something that I don't want to do," you state honestly. "That's why I came all the way here."

"Avoiding it?"

"You could see it that way."

"Can't avoid it forever," Jungkook says. Can't avoid it forever.

You don't think you've ever seen a light show— or at least not one against a building that brings people's jaws to the ground, so when you're watching it, you're absolutely mesmerized.

The lights were dancing and moving in a fluid motion, you were marveling each second of it.

There's a feeling in your chest. So bright and so merry, you finally understand why almost everyone loves Christmas. With your family either being busy during the holidays, you never realized that this is what you're supposed to feel like. Light and finally content.  

Gleaming up at Jungkook, you only smile wider when you realize you caught his eyes. "What is it?"

There was this ghost of a smile on his face that he hides. "Nothing."

You give him a nudge, smugly grinning at him. "It's a simple question."

When he hears you repeat his statement in target to him, he gives this smirk— and for once you're not looking away in irritation or giving him some snarky comment back because when his eyes flicker to your lips and back to your eyes, you knew what was bound to happen.

And you were inevitably going to let it.

Jungkook, with gentle hands, brings you to him, pressing his warm lips onto yours and it is as if you felt your entire body just melt. You move softly against his lips, savoring every bit, but your lips were not helping themselves when they curl into a smile.

He is warm. Like a mug filled with hot chocolate, he is a fireplace on a Christmas eve, and admittedly, you've never been this warm in the cold.

When he lets go, he's looking at you with eyes shaped as crescents. "You trust me enough to kiss you but not know your name?"

To that, you let out a joyous laugh, reaching up on your tip-toes to kiss his cheek. "I'll have you know that revealing your name is dangerous."

Jungkook scoffs, dropping his hands from your cheeks. "How dangerous could yours be?"

You bit back a smile at his subtle frustration, grabbing his falling hands and holding them in yours. "Very."

And all throughout the night, it was filled with cheer and excitement as Jungkook and you strolled around in the everlasting lights. Free samples and attractions at its finest, you both spent your time together forgetting you two had lives you're running away from.

And until your legs couldn't hold you up much longer, you had to go find a nearby motel for the night, forgetting that you had to leave early in the morning for a ferry.

Jungkook and you fought for paying for the room, but Jungkook, being charming in a revolting way, inevitably wins and chooses a room where you both end up with a fireplace and a king bed together.

Just before your eyes were closing, time spent with him was filled with giggles and laughter in the air. He tells you about this one story of how, one Christmas, he thought he saw Santa Clause, but it just his dad's friend dressed in a suit trying to climb chimney for his sake. The story makes you laugh, and though almost unbelievable, it makes you flutter your eyes close, reaching a deep sleep that you desperately needed.

That morning, you feel like a child on Christmas morning— even when Christmas isn't for the next week. You felt excitement twist in turn as curiosity has gotten the best of you that all you wanted to do was run downstairs and open the presents that Santa brought.

However, the feeling was fleeting— because even children soon realize that Santa isn't real. And that breaking feeling was because of reality that waves over you as your eyes fixate on the sun that peeked through the window.

Waking up to Jungkook next to you, lightly snoring, makes you feel all sorts of butterflies— something you haven't felt in such a long while. You feel almost giddy, knowing that there's someone there and it just happened to be him, but of course, you knew it wasn't going to last long.

Not wanting to leave without goodbye, you bring your hand to his arm, giving him a little shake as you wake him up. A smile creeping on your face as he groggily awakes, squinting at your active presence.

"Hey," you say quietly. "I have to go."

Go was what made him sit up in bed quickly. "What?" He asks, voice raspy.

"I have a ferry to catch," you say as he rubs his eyes. "I wasn't going to stay in Belgium."

"You weren't?" He frowns. "Where are you heading?"

"London," you reply and you watch as his tired face falls, sitting up straight. "It was nice. You know, meeting you and all."

He smirks at you. "The feeling's mutual."

To that, you smile. "Well," you shrug, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. It was the least you could do. "Merry Christmas, Jungkook."

"Wait!" He pulls your arm back when you pull away. Raising an eyebrow at him, he looks at you with hopeful eyes. "Not even a name?"

You think you'd owe him a name, but you shake your head. "Maybe the next time I see you," you bit back a smile. "But, no worries, I won't forget yours."

When you get to Hana's place in London, you're glad that you made it just in time before she left for Amsterdam. You were also glad that your duffel bag and backpack that were stranded in the bus that left without you was brought to Hana's after you filed a claim for your missing belongings at the bus station.

Hana welcomed you with an embrace, bombarding you with questions that you didn't have time to answer because she had to leave that night, but she made sure she had enough time to catch up with you. You don't tell her about the colossal, mad adventure you had with Jungkook and how he lingers in your thoughts, but instead you tell her about the good things you expect to happen in your time in London.

And before she left to the airport, she gives you a hug, wishing you all the best luck for the holiday season in exploring a city you haven't been to. While you had the house to yourself for less than 24 hours, you realized that all good things come to end.

Especially when you answer the door and your mother is on the other side, hands on her hips.

You completely froze seeing upon her arrival. "Mom, what are you... what are you doing here?"

Without a word, she barges in, sitting on the orange sofa that Hana owns, crossing a leg over her other as she looks at you with darting eyes. "You think I don't remember Hana moving to London? I knew after you took that trip to Greece that you would make a spontaneous trip to London knowing that Hana lives here, but I didn't expect it this soon— oh." Your mother points at you. "—You are something else."

Being yelled at by your own mother felt like a chore, so you calmly close the front door she walked through, walking over to her. "Mom, I don't want to get married."

Her eyebrows furrow together. "___."

"Look, I'm an adult. Most moms want you to focus on finishing college and being able to make a living for yourself, but no, my mom wants me to focus on being presentable— not to mention that she wants to give me away so quickly! And it's not even with a person I love."

"___—"

You shake your head, cutting her off. "You are not making me go back there and marry someone I don't know."

"Sweetheart," she begins before she stands up, searching for your eyes. "You ran all the way here just because you didn't want to get married?"

"I ran all the way here to live, Mom. I wanted to live and experience life without having to worry about what the media has to think about me. Or having to put on a fake smile knowing that I'm a CEO's daughter and the heiress and that if I mess up, that's on me."

Your mother frowns, but you can only shrug in response. "For once, I just wanted to live. Is that so bad?"  

Finally, you give her her turn. You hear her sigh, almost disappointingly, but if a little disappointment is what will give you what you need, then you can live with it. "Darling, I think then this is a good time to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

She lets out another sigh. "You're not really getting married."

You blink. "What?"

"You must have overheard your father and I when he were talking with Mr. Jeon, but we didn't want to tell you when we first arranged it."

"Why not?"

"Because you're not actually getting married," she enunciates. "You're having a wedding to look like you're married, but you don't have to go through with it."

You open your mouth in confusion, but immediately close it when your mother continues.

"In order for your father to establish this business proposal with Arua&Co., the CEO's grandfather needs the approval. By doing that, he needs a traditional reason as to have two major companies combine rather than a very good proposal, and that solution is a wedding."

"But, how—"

"Our loophole is that he specifically said he wanted a wedding, not a marriage— not to have both of our kids actually marry each other. So, if you're dressing up and looking as if you're getting married, you don't have to go through saying 'I do' if you don't want to."

"So you're not really giving my life to someone I don't know."

"That's sick," she full-heartedly scoffs. "I may expect a lot from you, ___, but this is just the one thing we really need you to do. After that day, you're still single as you want to be."  

"Really?"

"Yes, and..." Her voice trails off as you cock your head to the side. "I wanted to tell you this, but because you ran away so soon..." She pauses before she looks at you with a motherly gaze, one that you haven't seen in a long time. "I know that your father and I have a lot of expectations from you, but I know you're an adult. And you need to live your life." You felt your stomach clench. "If you want your freedom, I'll give it to you."

Your jaw nearly falls but she puts her finger up quickly. "With certain restrictions!"

"That's fine— anything!" Nearly squealing, your eyes widen with happiness. "You really mean that?"

"Yes, I'm tired of having to be dreaded by you— my own flesh and blood," your mother laughs. "So, you don't have to come to any of the events we go on. But you will go to the ones we need you to be there for. And you can leave without being monitored, just— shoot me a text from now on. I'm going to get a heart attack the next time you decide to go halfway across the country without letting me know," she says begrudgingly that you couldn't help but give her hug.  

A hug that was genuine. A hug that you haven't given her in a long time.

"Really?" You ask, voice muffled in the hug.

"Really. Merry Christmas, honey," she promises, basking into the hug. "Now, can we go home? After you shower? You smell the bus."

To that, you lightly chuckle, nodding. "Right, but— can I do one more thing?" You ask, pulling away to give her a sheepish look. "Can we go to Switzerland real fast?"

It was a long story of how he managed to be back here, but long story short, Jungkook is one day in Brussels having beer, and now his two best friends are helping him put on a suit.

"I told you running away from your problems is never a good idea," Namjoon says as tends to the cuffs of Jungkook's scarlet velvet suit. Namjoon, the always practical one, was not helping his dread at all on this day.

Jungkook, groaning, looks at himself in the mirror, never thinking that this is how he would be spending his Christmas eve. "I don't want to be here."

"Well, you are and you're going to marry the girl, whether you like it or not," Hoseok asserts, flipping carelessly through his magazine of interior design.

"Thanks," Jungkook says with a hint of sarcasm.

Namjoon chuckles. "You're gonna wanna say I do anyways. I just met her and she's actually really cool."

"It's just... weird. I've never met her in my life and now I'll be spending the rest of it with her," Jungkook states and immediately he thinks of you— the stubborn girl he doesn't know the name and now he's probably never going to find her and actually know her name. Not when he's going to be all over the media platforms after this wedding and you to find out that he's actually an heir to Arua&Co. and married to some girl who probably isn't as adamant, or pretty, or curious as you.

Namjoon shrugs. "Yeah, well. You'll form a bond somehow."

Jungkook looks up from his suit after hearing a bond. Mind immediately tracing back to what the witch— if she even is one— Evanora said: a wreath's bond.

It doesn't take long before Jungkook raises an eyebrow, recalling the moment of when he sat down at the table across from the stranger and next to the witch, stating some sort of phrase— a riddle.

"The day you will see two of me is the same day you won't need me unless you say you do— it's today," Jungkook speaks.

"Aw, shit. Great," Namjoon announces, letting go of Jungkook's cuff and tending to his own collar. "Jungkook's been in Europe too long he's saying some whack ass shit."

Hoseok chuckles, continuing to flip through his magazine. "I'm telling you, bro, Switzerland is fucking crazy."

"No, you guys. Two of me— she meant the rings— the wedding rings. You do— she meant saying I do. It's a wedding day. She must be here."  

"What," the man who finally looks up at his magazine cocks his head to the side. "Now you solve random riddles? What did they feed you in Brussels?"

Jungkook, without so little of a hesitation, gets out of the groom's room of the venue, running down the hallway to the grand venue of the warehouse of where the lights are all around, there are mistletoe hung, and all sorts of greens bringing color to the room. But what he was searching for was the most vibrant of it all— only to realize that he sees anyone but you.

And to himself, he scoffs, thinking of how foolish he could have been to actually believe a witch who possibly could not have been one in the first place.

The dress you wear is lace, from your sleeves to your shoulders. Usually, you'd complain about wearing sleeves on a wedding dress— hell, you'd complain about every little thing that isn't much an inconvenience just to piss your parents off for having a bratty daughter. From the wedding dress, to wedding makeup, to the bouquet, to the food— everything will seem just wrong to you— but having that certainty and approval to say no doesn't make you peep one dreadful word.

Admittedly, you liked the idea of having this wedding. It was like a trial run— and you didn't have to oblige to any commitment.

Your mother walks in on you as you had just put on a dress, hair curled, and light makeup— your mother looks at you so lovingly.

"You picked this dress out, huh?" You ask her and she scoffs.

"Only the best for my daughter," she smirks as she walks over to give you a hug. She wore a deep green dress paired with a fur shawl. "You look beautiful. Even if you're not actually getting married today."

To that, you laugh, shaking your head. "If I have to be a runaway bride, might as well look good doing it."

"That's the spirit," your mother smiles, taking one more look at you. "Are you alright?"

"Just preparing how to dramatically say I don't," you joke, earning a mood lightener in the air. "Is the wedding starting?"

Your mother nods. "Your father is waiting for you outside. Whenever you're ready."

It feels odd, truthfully. About to go marry someone you haven't even properly been introduced to yet, but you try not to think about it— because after all, you don't have to go through with it.  

As your arm is interlocked with your father's and you were holding red roses and ferns, you couldn't help but think that this was some sort of fairytale, only for one that you were going to run away from anyways. You think of this just as your father would— solely just business.

As you hear the wedding song play in the audible warehouse, you take a deep breath, your father, giving you a reassuring smile before he starts to take his steps.

Do brides normally feel queasy? No, what were you thinking— you're not actually a bride, and you're not actually going to be married.

Your reassurance in your head makes you feel calm until you're stopping at a spot from across the aisle, where everyone had stood from their seats, countless pairs of eyes staring at you, and only you. Time had froze, but that's not what's making you freeze altogether.

Because standing on the other aisle is Jungkook, the boy from the bus, the boy who went to Brussels who wanted to start anew, the boy who was so curious as to what your name was, the boy—

He was the boy he made you warm in the coldest of nights.

"You alright?" Your father whispers to you, snapping you out of your trance you realized you were in.

"Yes," you answer, eyes not tearing away from Jungkook's.

The person in the velvet suit, waiting for you is just as much in a shock as you are, eyes almost wide, and a look that almost seems like he's relieved to see you. As if he had found oxygen again.

From finally standing in front of him, to staring at him with surprised looks on your faces while the ceremony was taking place, to the very end, you had so many questions and had so many things to say, but couldn't. Instead, you stare at him, thinking what you could possibly say to him to be in this crazy coincidence.

"Do you, Jeon Jungkook, take ___ as your loving wife?"

"I do," he says, his eyebrows scrunching as that was his first time hearing your name. You almost want to snort out loud at how peculiar it is to first hear someone you've been dying to know's name at an alter— standing in front of you. And just immediately, it shakes you because just before, you were thinking of the many ways of how to say you don't, you're actually thinking of saying I do.

"Do you, ___, take Jeon Jungkook as your loving husband?"

The question, that you were so prepared to either say I don't or to runaway dramatically, was left in the air, as you pause. In that moment, you couldn't help but look at the crowd, expecting an answer that was almost obvious— but when looking at your mother for reassurance, she gives you this look and a shrug.

Only if you want to.

Eyes meeting back to Jungkook's chocolate ones, you take a deep breath.

"I do."

"Then Jungkook, you may now kiss the bride."

And there's this big grin you couldn't hide when you notice his little smug look before he's leaning in, recreating the night of when the lights were shining so bright and when just a single kiss could warm you up.

"___," he breathes your name out as if it were fresh air once he releases you from the kiss. "Not as dangerous as I thought."

You scoff, a smile growing. "Just you wait."

He gives you one more look before he kisses you once more, lifting you up from the ground. This time you kiss him harder, confused, yet grateful that this is how you two would meet again— right under your noses.

When he sets you down gently as a feather, he gives you one more look before you slowly both turn over to the crowd who were muted by the moment you had with Jungkook. There was clapping and there was screaming— and you don't even realize that Hyunjung crashes into you with the biggest hug.

"I'm sorry! I tried my best to divert your mom when she asked me if you were in London!" She says, nearly taking your life away as she squeezes you.

"It's fine, Hyunjung— just let me go," you beg, attempting to push her away. As she finally lets go, she gives you look from your eyes to the bottom of your dress.

"I didn't think you'd go through with it," she says, eyes almost tearing up. Rolling your eyes at her, you notice that your mother is walking up beside the nearly crying Hyunjung, an eyebrow raised.

"Neither did I," your mother intervenes. "Is it because he's good looking that you decided to say yes?"

Turning your head to look over at Jungkook who was being hugged and patted down by his groomsmen, you look back to your mother, a big smile painting your features.

"No, actually," you begin. "We know each other."

Your mother is surprised by your answer. "You do?"

"Yes," you smile, looking over at Jungkook. You don't tell her that he was the person who you were stuck with the whole day— the person who made you believe that you could actually live.

"I guess it all works out in the end, doesn't it?" Hearing your mother say that to Hyunjung, you smile to yourself before you're approaching Jungkook who had been waiting for you, and probably has been for awhile.

"I knew you'd be here."

"Really now?" You challenge.

"The day you see two of me is the day same day you say you do," he fluidly states causing you to open your moth amusedly. "A wedding day."

"So, you believe in witches now?"

"Not witches. But maybe just a little bit of magic," he laughs, before he grabs at your waist smoothly, guiding you down the aisle in which you both walk down it, the many people clapping for the newlyweds.

Once he reaches the end where the photographer was snapping pictures, he lets one hand rest at your waist and the other to cup your cheek. He's close, so tremendously close, that his lips only graze yours.

"___," he breathes out with a smirk. "I'm never going to stop saying your name."

And when he kisses you, you feel warm all over again.

[girls-scenarios]

Maybe It’s Not So Bad

Idols: Minju and Yujin (IZ*ONE)

Prompt: Kim Minju, the princess of the drama club and the most beautiful girl Yujin had ever laid eyes on, was standing in her living room. Could this get any worse?

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: This was my fic for the Girl Crush Fic Exchange, you can also find it over on AO3 if you’d like to read it there!

For parents, Chaeyeon and Sakura were usually pretty cool. Not only were they famous enough that the kids at school always asked Yujin about them, but they were also funny and laid back. They always supported Yujin and her younger sister Wonyoung, from letting them participate in all the teams and clubs they wanted to buying them the latest fashions to letting them know that they could talk to them about anything. When her friends complained about their parents not letting them go to parties or not understanding them, Yujin could never relate because she had a close relationship with her moms. Chaeyeon and Sakura encouraged her to live her youth to the fullest and let her be very open with them about her thoughts and feelings. So yeah, Yujin thought they were usually pretty cool.

Usually.

Yujin loved her moms, she really did. But she didn’t understand why they were so embarrassing. They were always so lovey-dovey and loud in public, they said weird and embarrassing things in front of her friends, and worst of all, even though they encouraged her to be a normal teen, they still treated her like a kid sometimes.

Now was one of those times.

Staying home alone over the weekend was a like rite of passage for normal teenagers (at least, that’s what the dramas on TV made it seem like), so when Chaeyeon and Sakura told both their daughters over dinner that the two of them would be going to a resort over the weekend for their anniversary, Yujin was immediately excited. It wasn’t like she was going to throw a big party or anything-she wasn’t brave enough to trash the place-but she had imagined inviting her friends to sleep over and play video games and eat junk food late into the night without anyone to tell her not to. She had imagined having one of the best nights of her life doing whatever she wanted to do with her friends and was already planning who to invite over and what takeout to order as they spoke.

And then her moms had crushed her hopes and dreams for the perfect weekend.

“A babysitter?” Yujin stood from her seat, her eyes narrowed and her hands planted firmly on the table as she stared at her moms, her mouth hanging slightly open in disbelief. “You got us a babysitter? I’m a junior in high school and I’ll be a senior in a few months, I don’t need a babysitter!”

“I wouldn’t call her a babysitter, although I’m sure she’s done that before too,” Chaeyeon said calmly, as if her two daughters weren’t so mortified they were about to melt into the floor. “She’s the daughter of a family friend and we’re just asking her to come over while we’re gone.”

“That’s the same thing as a babysitter,” Wonyoung complained, putting down her chopsticks and frowning. “Why do we need someone to stay with us? We’re home alone while you two are at work all the time.”

“This is different.”

“How?” Yujin demanded, crossing her arms.

“For starters, neither of you have ever spent the night alone without a parent or adult in the house,” Sakura said, glancing over at her wife before fixing her daughters with a small amused smile. “Second, if we left you alone, who would cook all the meals? I don’t want to come back to a destroyed kitchen.”

Yujin huffed, knowing that she had a point but not wanting to admit it. She was a danger in the kitchen and all Wonyoung knew how to cook was instant noodles, because Chaeyeon and Sakura loved cooking and were always the ones to do it. Still, she wasn’t about to back down. “We could just order takeout.”

“For breakfast, lunch, and dinner two days in a row?” Chaeyeon raised her eyebrows, then sighed and leaned forward, clasping her hands together. “Listen girls, you’re both great and we trust you not to throw any crazy parties or do anything bad. But trusting the two of you to cook, clean, and not mess anything up while we’re gone is another story. We just feel safer having someone else here to make sure the two of you don’t blow the house up on accident.”

“How would we blow up the house? We aren’t that stupid,” Yujin said, to which Sakura laughed.

“Yujin, you almost microwaved a spoon just last week.”

Blushing, the oldest daughter huffed and slumped back down into her chair, fuming internally and glaring down at the plate in front of her. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her.

“How old is the babysitter?” Wonyoung asked, a pout evident on her lips even as she apparently accepted the situation. Yujin’s frown deepened. Of course it was easier for her to accept, she was only in middle school so it wasn’t as embarrassing for her.

“She’s eighteen.”

“So she’s barely older than me!” Yujin threw up her hands in frustration. “This is dumb!”

“Yujin.” Chaeyeon fixed her daughter with a cool look, causing her to freeze. Her mom only used that look when she was dead serious. “We have already made up our mind. Nothing you do is going to make us think any differently. Now, please sit up straight and finish your food before it gets cold. We can talk more about this when you calm down.”

Grumbling, Yujin sat up in her chair and picked up her chopsticks. She couldn’t believe this was happening. This was a new level of embarrassment, even for her moms, and she could only hope that the “babysitter” was someone she didn’t know. Otherwise, she would have to immigrate and change her name to avoid the embarrassment of people at school finding out that her moms got her a babysitter at seventeen years old.

-

Later that night, after fuming in the shower, Yujin wandered into Wonyoung’s bedroom and flopped down face-first onto her younger sister’s big pink bed. Annoyed, the younger girl kicked at her shoulder, peering at her over her phone and letting out a whine when she saw her.

“Your hair is still wet, you’re going to get my blankets wet!”

“Shut up,” Yujin grumbled, her voice muffled by the blankets as she swatted her sister’s foot away. “We have a bigger problem on our hands than your blankets getting wet.”

“Huh?”

“Did you really forget that our moms are getting us a babysitter this weekend?”

“Oh, right.” Wonyoung frowned slightly and put her phone down, leaning back against her bed frame and picking up her fluffy pillow to hug it to her chest with a sigh. “I mean, you heard them, it’s not like we can do anything to change their mind.”

Yujin rolled over and stretched out her arms beside her, pouting up at the ceiling. “I can’t believe this is happening right now. They should have at least let me plead my case.”

“You can’t cook or clean and you almost blew up the microwave,” the younger girl pointed out, “you wouldn’t have been able to say anything.”

Yujin turned to frown at her. “Okay, sure, but do you really want to have a babysitter at your age? What if your friends find out?”

Wonyoung thought for a moment, pressing her lips together. “I mean, it’s kind of embarrassing,” she admitted, “but I would have had you telling me what to do anyway. Plus, I don’t think my friends are the type of people to make fun of me for it.”

“It’s not my friends I’m worried about. What if the babysitter girl is mean and tells the whole school she was hired to babysit me even though she’s only, like, a year older than me?” Just the idea was enough to make Yujin groan and cover her face. “I’d actually die!”

“You’re so dramatic,” her sister complained, then sighed again. “But I do hope she’s nice. I’d rather stay home without a babysitter, but it would be awful if she was strict and actually treated us like we’re kids.”

“I won’t listen to her even if she is strict.” Yujin rolled her eyes. “She’s only a year older than me, that’s dumb.”

“You’re dumb,” Wonyoung replied, picking back up her phone. “I’m not going to do anything that will get me in trouble. It’s not like being rude will change anything, you might as well accept it.”

“Wow, I can’t believe you’re siding with our moms over this.” Yujin sat up and huffed dramatically as she flipped her still-wet hair over her shoulder, splattering her sister with water and making her gasp. “I’ve lost my only comrade.”

“Yujin! Now everything is wet!” Wonyoung’s eyes flashed as she picked up the pillow next to her and the older girl screamed, jumping off the bed and making a run for the safety of her room as her sister chased after her, yelling something about her being annoying.

The pillow hit her door as she slammed it closed behind her and she could hear Chaeyeon call up the stairs for her not to slam things, but she just stuck out her tongue at the door, feeling uncharacteristically rebellious. Maybe it was because she was upset that her moms were treating her like a kid or maybe it was because she was hurt by their lack of trust. Whatever it was, it made her stomp over to her bed, grumbling under her breath about stupid parents and rules as she pulled out her phone to distract herself with dance videos, wishing, for once, that the weekend would never come.

-

Usually, Friday would find Yujin rushing home after dance practice, excited to stay up late watching dramas and playing video games with her sister. But today Yujin’s feet dragged underneath her and she stared down at the sidewalk, kicking at the small pebbles and leaves in her way as she headed home. Wonyoung walked just as slowly beside her, her hands shoved into the pockets of her hoodie and her lips curved down into a pout.

“Do you think the babysitter is already there?” Wonyoung asked, her shoulder bumping against Yujin’s as she avoided a crack in the sidewalk.

“I don’t know. I hope not. I hope she never shows up.” The older girl frowned and kicked the pinecone in her path extra hard, sending it skittering down the road. “We don’t have to stay with the babysitter, right?”

Wonyoung blinked and looked over at her. “What do you mean?”

“Think about it. There should be no reason that we have to stay home on Saturday. We should be able to go out with our friends, right? So we don’t have to see the babysitter until that night.”

“My friends did ask me if I wanted to hang out this weekend.” The younger sister perked up. “It should be okay, right? I mean, they let us go out on the weekends all the time.”

“That’s what I’m saying. They can’t make us stay with her all day.” As the two of them approached their house, Yujin stopped and reached out to grab her sister’s arm. “You aren’t going to abandon me with the babysitter, right?”

“Why would I abandon you?”

“I’m just making sure. When we were little you would always make me look bad in front of the babysitters too.”

“That was forever ago!” When Wonyoung saw that Yujin was serious, she sighed. “I won’t, I promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.” The younger sister reached out to curl their fingers together for a brief moment before breaking from her sister’s grasp. “Come on, let’s go inside now. Otherwise our moms are going to get onto us for being late.” She led the way up the stairs to the door and Yujin reluctantly followed with a huff, her eyebrows furrowed as she went through all of her complaints in her head.

Only for them to die on her lips when she stepped inside and saw the girl standing next to her moms.

Oh god. Kim Minju, the princess of the drama club and the most beautiful girl Yujin had ever laid eyes on, was standing in her living room. Her mouth went dry as she froze at the door, clutching her bag in her hands even as Wonyoung kicked off her shoes and cautiously walked inside, letting her bag fall off her shoulders.

“Come inside, Yujin,” Chaeyeon called, and Yujin swallowed as Minju turned to look at her with a small smile. The older girl waved and Yujin hesitantly waved back before quickly taking off her shoes, her head spinning. Was this really happening? “Girls,” Chaeyeon said as Yujin shakily approached, “this is Minju. You remember our friend Eunbi, right? This is her and Hyewon’s daughter. She’ll be staying here for the weekend to help you guys with food and cleaning. Please make her feel at home.”

“R-right,” Yujin stuttered, her rebellious phase disappearing as soon as it had appeared as she tried to come to terms with what was happening. Minju, the girl Yujin had been crushing on for years, was her babysitter. Could this get any worse? A giggle from Wonyoung reminded her that it could, in fact, get worse and she tried to force herself to get it together. She couldn’t make a fool of herself in front of Minju, even if her parents had already embarrassed her. So she flashed her signature cool smile and greeted the other girl. “Hey, I’m Yujin.”

“I know,” Minju said, making Yujin short circuit, blinking at her.

“Huh?”

The older girl laughed, but there was nothing mean about it. “I know who you are. You’re on the dance team at school. You guys are incredible, I come to watch every performance!”

“Really?” Well, so much for getting herself together. Yujin felt as if she were floating, or maybe swimming, through the air, the oxygen escaping her lungs as her heart pounded in her ears. Was this the gay panic she’d heard so much about? Her thoughts were scrambled, but she managed to force out a reply that didn’t make her look like a total dork. “Thanks! You know, I watch all of the drama club’s productions. You’re a really great actress!”

“Thank you, I’m flattered to hear that you think so.” The other girl smiled, sweet and shy, tucking a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear, and Yujin could feel herself blushing as her moms looked between the two of them.

“Oh, you two know each other?” Sakura beamed and clasped her hands together. “That’s great! I hope you all have lots of fun together while we’re away.”

“Not too much fun, if you know what I mean,” Chaeyeon said with a wink, making both of her daughters groan.

“Mom you’re so embarrassing,” Wonyoung complained, crossing her arms as Yujin stared down at the floor, letting her hair fall into her face and wishing it could hide her from the world. Why was this happening to her? She didn't think Minju was a bad person, but what if she told her friends? She’d never hear the end of it. Just the thought mortified her to her core and she swallowed, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans. Maybe she could bribe her not to tell or something….

“We already went over all the rules,” Chaeyeon said, handing a notepad to Minju. “The fridge and pantry are fully stocked and you can make anything you want. If you want to get a snack or drink for yourself that’s okay. The spare bedroom is all yours while you’re staying here, everything has been cleaned and set up for you so make yourself at home.” She turned her eyes to her daughters and fixed them with a stern stare that made them both stand up a little bit straighter. “Girls, make sure you’re nice to Minju, I know you’re both getting older but you still have to listen to her if she asks the two of you to do something. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” both girls responded in unison, and when Yujin glanced over to her side, she saw Minju stifle a laugh. Was that a good or bad sign? She really didn’t know.

“We’ll be back on Sunday morning. Don’t burn anything down until then.” Sakura stepped forward to give both of her daughters a hug, followed closely by Chaeyeon. At first, Yujin was stiff, but she hugged back reluctantly. Was it normal for teenagers to hug their moms? She really didn’t want to embarrass herself any more than her moms already had.

“We love you girls,” Chaeyeon said as she picked up the last of her bags, blowing them exaggerated kisses. Sakura laughed and followed suit, and this time, Minju did let out a little giggle.

“We love you too,” Wonyoung replied, and Yujin waved with the most genuine smile she could muster.

“Have a good trip!”

After a bit more cooing from Sakura, their moms were off, waving as they drove away. For a moment, an awkward silence fell over the room and Yujin worried at her bottom lip as she slowly let her hand fall to her side, watching her mom's car until it disappeared around the corner. This was really happening, and she had never once in her life been shy, but she had no idea what to say or do, just standing frozen in front of the window, too nervous to turn and look at the beautiful girl standing beside her.

Thankfully, Wonyoung cleared her throat, interrupting the awkward atmosphere and making both of the older girls turn to look at her “So, uh, what should we do for dinner?” The youngest asked, glancing at her older sister. There was the hint of a teasing smile on her lips, and Yujin narrowed her eyes as if to tell her sister not to say a word. Beside her, Minju (thankfully oblivious to the silent battle between sisters) checked her watch.

“What are you guys in the mood for?” She asked, “I can make just about anything as long as I have the ingredients.” She smiled that same shy smile as she shrugged her shoulders. “I might not be as good as your moms, but I’ll try!”

Wonyoung’s grin grew as she gestured to her sister, turning Minju’s attention to her. “I don’t know, what are you in the mood for, Yujin?”

She was going to kill her sister if she didn’t die from embarrassment first. The older girl turned her pretty smile to face Yujin, her eyebrows raised slightly, waiting for an answer, and the younger girl faltered for a moment before her dumb gay brain started to work enough for her to form sentences again.

“Um, I’m really okay with anything,” she forced out, and Minju let out a small giggle, making Yujin wonder if she was nervous too. If she stopped agonizing over every detail of the experience from her point of view, she could see how babysitting two teenagers could potentially be a bit terrifying. Still, being the babysitter was not as bad as being the baby-sat teenager, so she didn’t linger much on the thought.

“Well, you guys have to choose something for dinner, otherwise I won’t know what to make.”

“Then how about tteokbokki?” Wonyoung asked with wide eyes, taking advantage of the situation to suggest one of her favorite foods. Minju smiled, visibly relieved as her shoulders relaxed a bit.

“I can make that.”

“Awesome! I’ll be upstairs, just yell at me when it’s done. Oh, and don’t let Yujin near anything hot, she almost blew up the house using the microwave. Have fun!” With a satisfied grin, her teasing complete, Wonyoung turned and skipped up the stairs, leaving Yujin to blush and glare after her, running through ideas for revenge in her head. She was so going to get her for this later.

For a moment, there was once again awkward silence, until Minju cleared her throat. “Do I want to know how you almost blew up the house using the microwave?”

“I almost microwaved a spoon,” Yujin mumbled, ducking her head so that her short hair fell over her face. “But she’s exaggerating, my moms caught me before I could even turn the microwave on.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I almost did the same thing last year.” Minju giggled and Yujin finally dared to look up at her. There was a dusting of pink on her cheeks as she recounted her own near disaster. “I was really tired and forgot to take the spoon out of my soup after I stirred it. I would have blown up the microwave if my mom didn’t reach around me to yank open the microwave door. I got a pretty big lecture after that.”

Hearing that Minju - the most perfect person Yujin had ever laid eyes on - had also made the spoon mistake made her feel a little better, enough to laugh and rub at the back of her neck. “I’m glad to know that I’m not the only clumsy one, then.”

“Definitely not. I’ve had more mistakes in the kitchen than I’d care to remember.”

Yujin raised her eyebrows, a teasing smile creeping onto her lips. “We’re safe, right?”

The older girl waved her arms in front of her, as if to wave away Yujin’s mock concern. “Totally safe! I haven’t had a kitchen accident in at least a year. And if anyone is in danger, it would just be me.” The two of them laughed and Minju let out a sigh of relief. “By the way, I’m glad it’s you.”

Well, the blush was back. Yujin wondered if her eyes were as wide as they felt and, if so, how dumb she looked. “What? What do you mean?”

“When my moms told me that their friends wanted me to stay with their teenagers, well…. I was really nervous.” The older girl twisted her hands together. “I mean, it’s embarrassing on both sides, but I was kind of scared that the person I was staying with would lash out at me because their parents wouldn’t let them stay at home alone. So I’m glad it’s you.”

“Oh.” Yujin felt a bit ashamed, knowing that her plan had been to be as annoying as possible until the moment she walked in the door. But she swallowed, shoving her hands into the pockets of her uniform skirt because she wasn’t sure what else to do with them. “It is embarrassing,” she said slowly, “I mean, if people at school found out that my moms got me a babysitter, I’d be mortified.”

“I would never say anything,” Minju quickly assured her, waving her hands in front of her. “You don’t have to worry about that!”

“Thank you.” The younger girl let out her own sigh of relief, then smiled a real smile, most of the tension that she’d been holding in her chest since her moms told her about their trip washing away. “I’m glad it’s you too. Don’t worry, I won’t be too bad. I’m sure I’m not as bad as a toddler.”

Minju laughed, and Yujin let herself get lost in the sound of it for a moment, amazed that she was actually hearing it up close instead of from across the cafeteria. “Thank you, I'm relieved." After a pause, the older girl nodded towards the kitchen. "Want to help me with dinner? I'll make sure not to give you any dangerous tasks." Her face was hopeful and inviting as she pulled her chestnut hair back into a low ponytail, and Yujin wouldn't have been able to say no even if she wanted to. Minju was so pretty that she would have followed her into the sea had she asked.

"Okay," she said, her heart inching into her throat, wanting nothing more than to make a good impression. "As long as you don't think I'll be in the way of anything."

"You'll be okay, I won't let you get hurt."

-

Yujin had never been good in the kitchen. Maybe it was because she was clumsy when it came to anything other than dancing, or maybe it was because her moms had always cooked for her so she'd never had to learn for herself. Whatever the reason, she was sure that she was never supposed to step foot in a kitchen. Whenever she had tried to help or make things for herself in the past, disaster had always struck. Even just standing there seemed to bring bad luck, as Sakura always seemed to drop something or hurt herself when Yujin was in the kitchen. Of course, this could have been due to Sakura's own clumsiness, but still. She didn't have great experiences in the kitchen, so she couldn't help but be nervous when she followed Minju into the kitchen, obeying her instructions of "pull back your hair" and "wash your hands."

Thankfully, Minju was smart enough to keep her away from the oven and any potentially dangerous knives or boiling pots. Instead, Yujin became her helper, showing her where everything she needed was located and getting the ingredients for her when she called for them. The older girl did all the hard work (at least, as hard as making tteokbokki could be) but for once, Yujin didn't feel completely useless in the kitchen.

Instead she almost felt… comfortable. Minju liked to chat as she cooked, sometimes pausing to stare in concentration at what she was doing before jumping right back into the conversation after she was satisfied with her work. It was a cute habit and it made Yujin smile as she watched her, leaning back on the counter because her work was mostly done.

“Do you like cooking?” She asked after Minju paused again, this time to add the cheese to the top of the dish.

The older girl brightened, nodding her head. “I do! I’m kind of clumsy too, but whenever I’m stressed, I find that cooking calms me down. Plus, when I cook something for someone and they smile and tell me that it’s good, it makes me feel really happy. And it’s amazing to be able to cook whatever you want, whenever you want.” She turned to look back at the other girl, tilting her head. “I’m guessing you don’t?”

Yujin laughed. “It’s more like it doesn’t like me, honestly. I’ve tried but I can never get the hang of it. I always end up turning the whole experience into a disaster. My moms don’t even trust me to peel my own oranges because I almost chopped off my finger with the peeler when I was fourteen.”

“Woah, really?” The older girl raised her eyebrows, the hint of a teasing smile on her lips. “That’s almost a talent, then. I’ve never heard of anyone hurting themselves with an orange peeler.”

“If anyone can do it, it’s me.”

“That’s kind of funny.” As she turned her attention back to the almost completed dish, Minju shrugged, her voice wavering ever so slightly. “Though if it’s any consolation, I didn’t think this experience was a disaster. It thought it was fun.”

It took Yujin a moment to realize what she was talking about, and when she did, she froze, her fingers clutching at the marble countertop as she felt her face begin to heat up again, a wonderful dizziness encompassing her entire being. She felt as if she had just stumbled off a roller coaster, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she watched the tips of Minju’s ears turn a light pink and did her best to hold in the urge to let out a giddy scream into the nearest pillow. The older girl had already turned off the stove and moved the pan to the cool burner by the time Yujin was able to form words again, finally pushing away from the counter to wipe her sweaty hands on her uniform skirt so that she could finish her job as helper and grab the plates from the cabinet beside the oven.

“I-I thought it was fun too.” The words stumbled a bit on their way out, but she was rewarded with a bright smile from Minju nonetheless, making her world spin a little faster. For the briefest of moments, time seemed to stop, the sun freezing in the sky outside the window as Minju turned to face her, so close that Yujin could smell her floral perfume. It would be so easy to hold the older girl’s hand, and the way she was looking at her made Yujin feel like maybe Minju wanted all the same things that she did.

The older girl opened her mouth, parting those pretty pink lips with a flush on her cheeks, but Yujin never got to hear what she wanted to say.

Instead, she heard Wonyoung asking loudly if the food was done, effectively shattering the moment. The sun dipped down beyond the windowsill and she spun around to give her younger sister a glare as Minju cleared her throat and stepped back, turning her attention back to the almost forgotten dish on the stove.

“We were just about to call you,” Minju said. Wonyoung didn’t look like she believed her, looking between the two of them with mild amusement, but she didn’t say anything, just skipping past Yujin to grab a plate. The two of them didn’t move until she was finished, finally glancing at each other as Wonyoung sat at the table and put in her earbuds, blocking them out. The air was charged, but it didn’t feel… bad. Still, Yujin wasn’t sure what to say or do, and she kicked herself for suddenly becoming so awkward again as she gestured to the tteokbokki.

“Um, I guess we should eat too?”

“Yeah.” Minju let out a shy giggle and bumped her shoulder against Yujin’s as she picked up a plate, a silent reassurance that helped settle the nerves bundling in the younger girl’s chest. “I guess we should.”

-

An hour later found Yujin sitting beside Minju on the couch as Wonyoung scrolled through Netflix from the beanbag, asking them what they were in the mood to watch. After neither of the older girls gave her an answer (Yujin was having a hard time thinking about anything other than how close Minju’s hand was to hers) she shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, since you guys aren’t going to choose, we’re going to watch Hyori’s Bed and Breakfast.”

This snapped Yujin out of her gay stupour and she groaned in protest. “Again? But you’ve watched that at least a hundred times!”

“Because Lee Hyori is the queen. You snooze, you lose,” her younger sister replied with a grin. This interaction made Minju giggle and just the sound was enough to convince Yujin to stand this one down, not wanting to embarrass herself yet again in front of the older girl. Still, she huffed as she settled back into her seat. She would have crossed her arms, but she didn’t want to pull her hand away from the couch, just in case Minju decided to hold it.

“Fine. But we’d better be watching the episodes with IU in them.”

As it turned out, Hyori’s Bed and Breakfast was the perfect choice, both because it kept Wonyoung too occupied to do any teasing and because it was the perfect amount of funny. At some point, one of the guests made Minju laugh, and between high-pitched giggles she fell against Yujin’s shoulder, her hair tickling the skin at her neck as her body shook with laughter. She didn’t sit back up, even after the funny scene was over, and Yujin wondered if the older girl could hear how fast her heart was beating as she relaxed under the new weight, shifting so that her shoulder was more comfortable.

Slowly, she started to loosen up. She allowed herself to laugh loudly and lean back into Minju, allowed herself to rest her head on top of Minju’s, and even allowed herself to scoot a bit closer, pressing their thighs together under the blanket she’d pulled from the arm of the couch when Minju shivered halfway into the first episode. When Minju buried her face in her neck, getting what Yujin could only assume was second hand embarrassment from some of the guys on screen, she grinned and reached up to playfully pat her back.

“There, there, you can hide in my shoulder anytime” she said, a teasing lilt in her voice and Minju giggled again, gently hitting her thigh.

“Shut up,” she replied in a whisper, but she didn’t sound like she meant it and Yujin only grinned wider.

“Cute.”

“Shhhh,” Wonyoung hushed them, sending them a pout before turning her attention back to the TV, and both of them had to stifle their laughter, leaning back into each other with shaking shoulders.

For all the bragging she always did about being the hottest one in her friend group, Yujin had never been with a girl before. She hadn’t even cuddled while watching TV before, but somehow doing it with Minju felt natural. Once she’d gotten over her initial gay panic about the prettiest girl in the world touching her, it felt natural to throw an arm over her shoulder or to grab her hand when something funny happened on screen. Minju’s perfume filled her senses, enveloping her in a warm hug that she never wanted to leave.

Eventually she had to, but she was slow to untangle their limbs when Wonyoung yawned and turned off the TV, announcing that she was going to bed. Minju seemed just as reluctant to pull away, yawning and slowly sitting up without letting go of Yujin’s hand. For a long moment, they just sat there, Yujin watching Minju as the older girl gazed down at their intertwined hands, a comfortable silence settling over the living room.

Words lingered at the tip of Yujin’s tongue, but she couldn’t find a way to force them out, afraid to tell the truth just yet. It all felt so fast, and she would have whiplash if it wasn’t for the way Minju rubbed her thumb over the skin of the back of Yujin’s palm in slow, sleepy circles like she was meant to be there.

“Are you sleepy?” She asked, her voice uncharacteristically soft, breaking the silence when she saw the older girl yawn again. With a cute smile, Minju nodded, running her free hand through her hair.

“I am. But I also don't want to get up. This is nice."

Yujin's heart jumped and skipped around her chest and she put on her best smile (the one her friends said made them fall for her), settling back into the couch and tugging Minju's hand as a sign for her to follow. It didn't take much convincing. The older girl easily fell back against the couch with her, her head right back on Yujin's shoulder like it was meant to fit there.

"We don't have to get up yet. There's still plenty more episodes to watch."

-

It was one in the morning before the two of them finally made their ways to their separate rooms, reluctantly separating their fingers and closing the bedroom doors. That night, as Yujin closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, Minju’s laughter echoed in her ears and her perfume lingered on her skin, and she dreamed of a field of flowers dancing around the most beautiful girl in the world as she whispered sweet nothings into her ears.

-

Waking up to the smell of breakfast wasn’t really a new thing for Yujin. Chaeyeon and Sakura loved to cook a big breakfast on weekends, so she often woke up to the smell of french toast and coffee and the sound of her moms singing along to the latest Red Velvet song at full volume. Still, when Yujin woke up to the smell of waffles the next day, it immediately felt different than a usual Saturday. She’d never been so excited to eat breakfast before.

After washing up, she padded into the kitchen to find Minju humming softly along to the Dean song playing from her phone speakers as she opened the waffle maker. The older girl moved her shoulders and hips to the beat, doing a small dance that Yujin couldn’t help but find cute.

“Nice moves,” she said, making the older girl jump a bit and turn to her with wide eyes, pressing the hand not holding the waffle maker to her chest.

“You scared me!” Minju whined, letting out a small laugh as her cheeks colored pink, and Yujin grinned.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it.” It only took Yujin a few steps to cover the space between the two of them and she immediately made herself useful, pulling the plates from the cabinet as Minju pulled the now finished waffle from the waffle maker. “Breakfast smells amazing, by the way.”

The older girl huffed, but the smile on her face made it obvious that she wasn’t actually upset. “You know what? You can make your own waffle.”

“That’s probably not a good idea,” Wonyoung said as she turned the corner, making both of them jump apart. “Wow, deja-vu. Didn’t this same thing happen last night?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yujin replied, lifting her chin and shooting her sister a look. Wonyoung just grinned and shrugged past her to grab the first waffle.

“Whatever. I’m going over to Yuri’s house today, you two have fun!” With that, she skipped away, munching at the waffle in her hands and leaving the two older girls frozen, staring after her.

“Middle schoolers are scary,” Minju finally said as she turned to check on the next waffle, making Yujin burst into laughter.

“Right? I really never know what she’s going to say next.” Running a hand through her hair in what she hoped was an attractive way, the younger girl leaned back against the counter. “Are you doing anything today?”

Minju seemed surprised at her question, but she smiled and shook her head as she placed the second waffle on a plate, sparing her a quick glance before concentrating on pouring the batter in again. “I didn’t have any plans. I was going to just try and stay out of your way, since I didn’t know if you guys would want me around.”

Yujin couldn’t fathom a reality where she didn’t want Minju around, but she tried to be nonchalant as she spoke. “If that’s the case, do you want to go to the mall with me?”

Once again, the older girl’s eyebrows rose, but her smile grew brighter, making her look so cute that Yujin’s heart skipped a beat. “That would be great! I’d love to!”

“Awesome.” Yujin grinned as relief washed over her, happily taking a bite of her waffle. She had successfully invited her crush on a date. Well, she hadn’t exactly called it a date, but it was basically a date, right? She wasn’t going to think about it too much. “I was hoping you would say yes.”

Minju’s giggle filled the air as she stepped just a bit closer to Yujin, a blush on her cheeks, their shoulders brushing once again. “Like I would say no to you.”

Yujin does her best to pretend that statement doesn’t make her heart do backflips in her chest.

-

The mall was crowded, just like it was every Saturday, full of families and high school kids with nothing better to do. Still, as the two of them stepped inside, Yujin found that she was glad it was so busy and loud; that way, none of the awkward silence from before could come back.

“Did you want to come for anything in particular?” Minju asked her over the noise as they avoided a group of excited children, sparing her a curious glance. Yujin shrugged her shoulders and grinned.

“Not really, I just wanted to hang out with you.”

“Oh.” Pink colored the older girl’s features again as she smiled shyly and looked down at her feet, clasping her hands together in front of her. Yujin was totally going to scream to her friend Nako about this afterwards, but in the moment she managed to keep the giddy feeling in her chest down enough to speak without her voice wavering.

“Anywhere you wanted to visit?”

“Well….” Minju turned to her with big, hopeful eyes. “There’s a new store here that my friends said has really cute clothes. I’ve been wanting to check it out for a while now.”

God, Yujin was already whipped for her smile. “Then we’ll go there first.”

The store did, in fact, have plenty of cute clothes, along with an array of other cute things. The sheer amount of pink almost assaulted Yujin’s eyes as they walked in, but Minju lit up at the sight of it, and she was reminded that the other girl had dyed her hair pink at some point during her junior year, so this was totally her style. While most of the clothes were much too cute for Yujin’s taste (she was sure her flannel, band tank top, ripped jeans, and converse were making her stand out) she had to admit that they would look amazing on Minju. But then again, the older girl could pull off anything, including the simple floral shirt and jeans she had on.

At some point, as Minju pointed out a cute pink backpack purse, her hand found Yujin’s, and it struck the younger girl how much this felt like a date. She tried not to think about it too much, though, because just the thought made her heart pound in her chest and her mind spin a bit.

“Oh, what do you think about this?” Minju held up a striped pink and white sweater, then gasped as she saw a white beret with a pink rose design on the side. “That’s perfect!”

“It’s cute,” Yujin agreed, nodding her head. “I think you would look good in it.”

“Really?” Once again, Minju brightened, her smile widening as she dropped Yujin’s hand to grab the beret. “Do you mind if I try them on?”

“I don’t mind. Take your time.”

“You’re the best,” Minju said, reaching back to give Yujin’s hand a quick squeeze before skipping off towards the fitting rooms, leaving Yujin to internally freak out by herself.

The older girl ended up trying on a few more outfits, stepping out of the fitting room to do a little twirl for Yujin before looking at her with wide, expectant eyes. The only problem was that everything looked amazing on Minju, so Yujin’s answer was always the same: “you look great!”

“You can’t just say that every time,” Minju said with a laugh after she stepped out of the fitting room in a jean overall dress, and Yujin playfully raised her arms.

“But you look great in everything, I’m just telling the truth!”

“That’s not going to help me choose what to buy though.” The older girl’s eyes were sparkling as she spoke, obviously more happy than annoyed with Yujin.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to be any help because I love all the outfits you’ve tried on so far.”

“I’m flattered, really, but you aren’t helping.” Minju giggled and playfully rolled her eyes as she walked back into the fitting room. “I guess I’ll just have to choose on my own then!”

“I liked the sweater!”

Eventually, Minju decided on buying the sweater and hat, and Yujin hung back by the door until she joined her, swinging the bag in her hand and grinning happily. “Thanks for letting me spend so much time there. I know it wasn’t really your style, with the whole ‘cool dancer’ and ‘sporty’ aesthetic you have.”

With a gasp, Yujin pretended to be offended, pressing her hand to her chest in the most dramatic fashion she could muster. “Hey, I wear more than just flannels and sportswear! You just don’t see me outside of my uniform very often!”

“True.” The older girl bumped their hips together, looking ahead of her as she spoke. “We could change that, though.”

Oh, there went Yujin’s heart, flipping in her chest again. She could only hope that her smile wasn’t as big and dorky as it felt. “Yeah, we could.”

-

At some point, the two of them ended up in the ice cream parlor, sitting near one of the windows looking out at the food court as they ate their ice cream cones, the bags from the stores they’d visited crowded at their feet. Yujin was telling a funny story again (because she liked hearing Minju laugh). This time it was the story of how one of her friends on the dance team almost fell off the stage because he was messing around and how he ended up ripping his pants and having to perform with them ripped because they didn’t have any extra uniform pants. Minju giggled as Yujin recalled how the fact that the pants were sparkly actually saved him from people noticing the rip on the inside of his pants.

“That was during your girl group mashup dance, right? I remember that you were all wearing such sparkly pants.”

Yujin’s eyes widened and she blinked, staring at the older girl in awe. “You… How did you remember that?”

“I told you that I’ve watched every performance,” the senior responded with a sweet smile. “Plus, the pants for that mashup were too loud to forget.”

“True.” Dammit, Yujin could feel herself blushing, and she took a few bites of her ice cream to cool herself down, trying to hide the fact that she once again wanted to let out a giddy scream into the nearest pillow. “I’m still surprised you’ve seen every one.”

“All the performances are so cool, how could I not? Plus, you guys are kind of famous in the school. Our school is known for our drama club and our dance club, you know.”

“I knew we were popular. I mean, we’ve won a lot of contests. But I’m not sure if we’re on the same level as the drama club. The plays and musicals you guys do are amazing.”

“Oh, thanks.” It was Minju’s turn to blush as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I guess both of our teams are pretty amazing, huh?”

“They are.” Yujin was desperate to change the subject, mostly to avoid getting any more compliments. She usually loved being showered in compliments and basked in the attention, but when they came from Minju they made her feel like she was going to explode. “Is your club working on a new production right now?”

Thankfully, it worked. Minju’s face lit up as she began to talk about the play her club was working on and Yujin settled back into her seat, gazing affectionately at the older girl’s excited smile and falling deeper into her eyes, dark and sweet like cocoa. For once, Yujin didn’t want to be the center of attention. For once, she wanted to stay still and listen.

-

“What’s your favorite dish?”

They were unloading their bags when Minju casually asked the question, her head popping over the top of her car. Yujin paused, then slowly closed the passenger door with her hip, her hands full of the heaviest bags (yes, she was trying to show off, what about it?)

“Um, honestly whatever you cook will taste amazing.”

The older girl laughed. “Thanks, but I want to make something for you specifically.”

Well, she could feel herself blushing again. “Oh, okay.” She let Minju lead the way inside as she swallowed and tried to think of what she wanted. Then it struck her. “My moms got stuff to make pizza, we could do that tonight!”

“Oh, that would be fun! Homemade pizza!” Minju beamed, a bounce in her step as she walked inside. “Let’s do that. Are you going to help me?”

“Obviously,” Yujin replied, kicking off her shoes before dropping all the bags onto the couch and reaching up to pull her shoulder length hair into a ponytail, smiling her most charming smile. “What would you do in the kitchen without me?”

Her response pulled another giggle from Minju’s lips as the older girl walked past, gently and playfully shoving her shoulder, and Yujin wondered if it was possible to get addicted to a sound.

-

As it turned out, making a pizza was a lot less complicated than Yujin had previously thought. Especially since her moms had made the decision to buy the premade crust, cutting the amount of work in half. As she pulled out the ingredients, as instructed by Minju, the older girl pulled out her phone and set it on the counter. A moment later, music began to fill the room, and Yujin looked back to see Minju pulling her hair back to the sound of Stephanie Poetri’s “I Love You 3000,” her head nodding along to the beat ever so slightly.

Well, if she wasn’t head over heels already, she certainly was now.

“You have a good taste in music,” Yujin said as she walked over to the counter, and Minju smiled at her, her eyebrows raised.

“Really? You think so?”

“Yeah, I love this song.”

“Me too!” As Minju washed her hands, she started to softly sing, and Yujin’s chest constricted, taking away her breath. She had always known the other girl could sing - she had seen her in plenty of musicals before - but hearing her sing up close…. It was a totally different experience. For a long moment, she stood frozen, her mouth slightly open as she fell deeper and deeper into Minju’s endless charms. Then she swallowed and joined in, her voice just a bit softer than Minju’s as she sang the chorus with her, her arms still full of pizza ingredients.

The older girl turned around, her eyes widening slightly in surprise before her smile grew and her singing got a bit louder. As she sang, she walked over to take the ingredients from Yujin’s arms, and having her sing “baby take my hand” that close made the younger girl’s voice wobble ever so slightly, her heart jumping and stuttering in her heart.

As the song came to an end, the older girl raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, looking up at Yujin. “Are you good at everything? How come I didn’t know you could sing!”

Yujin knew she was blushing to the tips of her ears but she grinned anyways, shrugging her shoulders as she leaned back against the counter. “I’m not as good as you.”

“Yes you are. You know, you should be an idol, since you’ve got it all. The dancing and singing skills, the looks, the height-” Minju looked her up and down before quickly turning her attention back to the pizza pan. “-the charm. Everything.”

“You’re talking about looks as if you aren’t the prettiest girl in the world.” Oh god, she’d really said it. She was so comfortable with the older girl that the words just tumbled out on their own. Immediately, she snapped her mouth shut, but to her surprise, instead of being surprised or weirded out, Minju turned a pretty shade of pink and began to giggle, bringing her hands up to cover her face.

“You really think so?” Her voice was small and shy and Yujin nodded, her entire body full of electricity as her heart pounded in her chest once again.

“I do. You’re seriously the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” As if on cue, Daniel Ceasar’s “Best Part” started playing from Minju’s phone, making Yujin feel like the main character in a coming of age movie. Maybe she could get the girl after all. When Minju finally pulled her hands down, she was smiling the cutest little shy smile. She didn’t have dimples, but her face scrunched up a bit when she was shy, her eyes closing ever so slightly and her cheeks rising in a way that turned her from gorgeous to downright adorable in seconds.

“Thank you,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “Y-you’re really pretty too.” There was something electric in the air, something they could both feel sparking between the two of them, but it was a bit too much for Yujin’s poor gay heart. She felt light headed again, and apparently Minju felt the same, as she quickly busied herself starting the pizza instead of saying anything else. For a moment, the younger girl struggled to find something else to say, until Twice’s “Likey” started blasting over the speakers, making her laugh.

“We just changed moods so quickly,” she said, her voice teasing as the tension shattered with Minju’s laugh. The older girl reached over to playfully swat at her arm.

“Leave me alone! I love this song!”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Yujin grinned and hopped up onto the counter, making Minju gasp at her. “Hey I do too, I just wasn’t expecting it after Daniel Caesar.”

“Do your moms allow you to sit on the counter like that?”

“We aren’t using this one, so I can sit on it.” Yujin stuck out her tongue as she pulled out her phone and Minju huffed, but couldn’t wipe the smile from her lips.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

“I know, right? Anyway, who else do you listen to? Let’s jam out before Wonyoung gets home and insults us on our music taste.”

-

The pizza was amazing, even if the pepperonis were a little all over the place courtesy of Yujin. Wonyoung did, in fact, come home and immediately ask if she was watching her moms when she caught the two of them dancing to Red Velvet, but Yujin couldn’t even be mad, not after she’d had so much fun with her dream girl all day long. And especially not after Minju sat down across from her at the table and rested her ankle against Yujin’s, leaving the younger girl a bit breathless for the rest of the meal. If her sister noticed that she was unnaturally quiet, she didn’t say anything.

-

Somehow, even though it was only the second time they’d watched TV together, they ended up side by side as if it was natural, their legs pressed together and Minju’s head already resting on Yujin’s shoulder as the younger girl flipped through Netflix. Wonyoung walked in, took one look at the two of them, and immediately shook her head.

“Nope, I’m gonna watch TV in my room tonight. Have fun.” With that, she turned and skipped up the stairs with her bowl of popcorn, leaving the two older girls to look at each other and laugh.

“Well, at least we can choose what we want to watch now, right?” Yujin asked, and Minju smiled, reaching over to hold Yujin’s hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“It looks like we’ve got the whole night to ourselves.”

-

They didn’t talk much, because they didn’t have to. Occasionally Yujin would make fun of something on screen to make Minju laugh, and sometimes Minju would bury her head in Yujin’s shoulder when a particularly embarrassing scene came on, giggling and saying she hated it, but for most of the night they stayed quiet, enjoying each other’s company in the almost silence. It was cosy, yet overlaid with a thick tension; the tension that had been growing with every glance, every touch, and every interaction they’d had since the first day Yujin walked in to see her standing in her living room.

In all honesty, Yujin had no idea what was happening on screen between the two leads. She’d lost interest after the second episode, when Minju started rubbing her thumb over the skin on the back of her hand. She couldn’t think of anything other than the older girl, that floral perfume overwhelming her senses and pulling her deeper into Minju’s touch. So she wasn’t sure what episode they were on when Minju pulled away slightly, looking up at her with so much affection and want that Yujin wondered if she’d ascended to heaven. All she knew was that it was dark outside, the lights were dim, and she couldn’t take her eyes off Minju’s pink lips.

They didn’t talk, because they didn’t need to. All Minju had to do was lean in and let her eyes flutter closed, and immediately Yujin knew they both wanted the same thing. So she went for it, leaning in and finally pressing her lips to Minju’s like she’d wanted to for so long.

Yujin had kissed girls before. But none of those girls had ever made fireworks explode in her chest like Minju did. As soon as their lips connected, Minju reached up to wrap her arms around Yujin’s shoulders, pulling her even closer and making Yujin’s head spin because her lips were just as soft as they looked. The younger girl’s hands moved on their own, one cupping her face while the other one rested on her hip, grounding Yujin so that she didn’t float away from the pure euphoria flowing through her veins.

She was kissing the prettiest girl in the world, and more importantly, the prettiest girl in the world was kissing her back. And she knew she wasn’t dreaming, because none of her dreams had ever been this good.

When she finally pulled away, reluctant but needing to breathe, she drank in the sight of Minju before her, breathless and pink and glowing even in the dim light of the TV.

“Well,” the older girl said with a soft smile, “that was something.”

“Yeah,” she responded, breathless and grinning like a fool. “It was. Can we do it again?”

“Yes, please.”

-

That night, Yujin could hardly sleep, her heart refusing to stop skipping and pounding. She could still feel Minju’s lips against her own, and she replayed the quick kiss Minju had given her before telling her goodnight over and over in her head. They hadn’t said anything, though.

For a long time, she laid awake, remembering the taste of Minju’s lips and staring up at the ceiling, wondering why she hadn’t asked Minju to be hers right then and there.

-

Once again, Yujin woke up to the smell of breakfast. This time, she wasted no time washing up, checking her hair in the mirror before glancing at the mirror. How long did she have before her moms got back? She wasn’t sure, so she quickly put on her nice purple hoodie and a pair of jeans before rushing down into the kitchen in the most casual way she could.

Minju was at the oven, humming to Day6 as she flipped her omelet, and when she saw Yujin, she smiled, her face slightly pink. “Good morning. You didn’t scare me this time.”

“I made a bit more noise so I wouldn’t.” The younger girl ran a hand through her hair as she smiled back, trying to ignore the nerves building in her stomach. Why was being gay and in love so hard? “So, um, I-.”

“Oh that smells good!” Wonyoung turned the corner with a grin, completely interrupting them, and Yujin sighed, stepping back so that she could get her food. Why did her younger sister always come in at the worst times? As the Wonyoung picked up her plate and walked away, Minju looked at Yujin expectantly, her face open and hopeful. Swallowing, she glanced at her younger sister at the table before deciding “screw it” and turning back to grab one of Minju’s hands.

“I wanted to tell you that I like you a lot, and um, to ask you if you want to be my girlfriend.” There, she finally got the words out. Behind her, Wonyoung gasped, but she ignored her, focusing all of her attention on Minju and watching with bated breath as the older girl began to smile widely.

“I like you a lot too, and I’d love to be your girlfriend.” Minju squeezed her hand, and Yujin knew that she was blushing and grinning like crazy, but for once, she didn’t care if it was embarrassing or not. She was much too happy to care, because her heart was fluttering in her chest and electric excitement was flowing through her veins and a giddy squeal was catching in her throat because the prettiest girl in the world had just said that she liked her too.

“Woah,” was all she could say before both of them burst into laughter, leaning into each other. When she was able to breathe properly again, she grinned at Minju and squeezed her hand in return. “I’m glad you said yes.”

“I kissed you last night and you really thought I’d say no?”

Wonyoung gasped again. “You guys kissed?”

Yujin did her best to ignore her sister as she shrugged her shoulders sheepishly. “I thought it might be a possibility.”

“You’re dumber than I thought.”

“Hey!”

“It’s cute, though.” Minju giggled and reached over to pat Yujin’s cheek. “It’s really cute.”

“Can you guys not do this while I’m trying to eat?” Wonyoung whined, finally forcing the two girls to look at her. “I’m losing my appetite.”

“You’ll understand when you get older, Wonyo,” Yujin replied, making her little sister huff and stand from her chair, grabbing her plate.

“Whatever. I’m going to eat in my room. Try not to be too gross before our moms get home.” Wonyoung stuck her tongue out at them as she left, stalking away, but they both just laughed. They still hadn’t stopped holding hands, and Yujin never wanted to.

“Anyway,” she said, turning back to her girlfriend (just the word was enough to send butterflies flying through her stomach). “Want to get lunch with me tomorrow?”

Minju gave her an amused smile, raising her eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to ask for my phone number?”

“Oh right. I might need that.” Yujin quickly pulled out her phone, then raised her eyebrows in return. “Wait, was that a no?”

“No, silly. I was just thinking that you might need my phone number if we’re going to be girlfriends.” Minju typed in her number, then watched as Yujin finished the contact information, giggling as the younger girl erased the simple “Minju” she’d put in and replaced it with “prettiest girl in the world” before saving it. In response, she deleted the simple “Yujin” in her phone and put in “coolest girl in the world” instead, making Yujin grin.

“You think I’m cool?”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Point taken.” She glanced at the clock. “My moms will be home soon. What time were you going to leave.”

“Soon.” The older girl pouted slightly, looking down at the two plated omelettes forgotten on the counter. “We only have time to eat before I have to go.”

“Oh.” Yujin stepped a bit closer, her eyes hopeful and her lips in a soft smile. “Then do I not have time to kiss you once more before you go?”

Minju’s face lit up with her smile as she giggled and leaned in. “I think we can make time for one more.”

-

Minju ended up leaving before Chaeyeon and Sakura got home, something that Yujin was thankful for, since she could walk Minju out and hold her hand without her moms around to ask any annoying questions.

“I had fun this weekend,” the older girl said as they reached her car. Her smile was sweet as she swung their intertwined hands. “More fun than I thought I was going to have, that’s for sure.”

Her comment made Yujin laugh, big and genuine. “No kidding, I thought this weekend was going to be terrible,” she said truthfully, “but it ended up being one of the best weekends of my life. So maybe getting a babysitter wasn’t too bad.”

“Don’t let your moms hear you,” Minju teased, and the younger girl pretended to be scandalized.

“I would never!”

Both of them laughed before standing still for a moment, gazing at each other in the driveway, both reluctant to let go until Minju sighed.

“Well, I guess I have to go now.”

“Yeah.” Yujin gave her hand one final squeeze before letting it go. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

The younger girl stepped back, waiting until Minju had started her car to wave. When the older girl smiled and waved back, she blew her a kiss, smiling in satisfaction when she laughed and caught it before beginning to back away. Yujin watched her drive away then, waving until her car had disappeared around the corner before she let her hand drop and began to grin.

This weekend had really just happened. She was now dating Kim Minju.

With a squeal, she pulled out her phone and ran back inside. She couldn’t wait to tell Nako all about it.

-

To “the prettiest girl in the world”:

Wonyoung told on us😠

From “the prettiest girl in the world”:

What? But we didn’t do anything?

To “the prettiest girl in the world”:

She told my moms that we were flirting the entire time and that we kissed and now they WON’T SHUT UP

Save me pls

From “the prettiest girl in the world”:

Oh😳

Does this mean I can’t babysit you anymore?

To “the prettiest girl in the world”:

Actually the opposite, they’re saying that they should leave for the weekend again. Apparently they thought I was never going to get a girlfriend?? I’m offended.

From “the prettiest girl in the world”:

I mean I can’t argue with them

ABOUT THE BABYSITTING THING, NOT THE YOU NEVER GETTING A GIRLFRIEND THING

To “the prettiest girl in the world”:

LMAO

I’d let you babysit me anytime cutie 😉

From “the prettiest girl in the world”:

Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind of annoying?

To “the prettiest girl in the world”:

All the time. It’s my charm. You’ll see tomorrow.

From “the prettiest girl in the world”:

You’re lucky you’re so cute

To “the prettiest girl in the world”:

😘

But seriously please save me they won’t stop asking me when the wedding is

Minju. Pls.

Come back I won’t be annoying anymore!

Is this payback?

From “the prettiest girl in the world”:

Maybe

😘

To "the prettiest girl in the world":

Wow I can't believe I thought you were sweet

From "the prettiest girl in the world":

😇

[analyzing-the-rebellion-story]

The Rebellion Story Analysis Addendum

It’s been four years since I finished the analysis, and a lot of my views have changed! Here are my revised opinions!

In italics is something I said in the analysis.

In plain font is my updated interpretation.

I highly doubt that Kyubey has a biological need for sleep, so I guess that means he’s just been lying there all night. Contemplating.

Another possibility is that he’s communicating telepathically with the other Incubators. After all, what better time would there be to discuss their plans?

Sayaka is a raspberry. Raspberries are soft, but have a strong and distinct flavor. That describes Sayaka pretty well, I think.

Kyoko is an apple. Apples are sweet and wholesome, but their seeds have traces of cyanide. This suits Kyoko well because, while she’s generally nice nowadays, she can be kind of a jerk sometimes.

Homura is a pumpkin. The pumpkin is a delicious and fulfilling produce, but it can be twisted into something frightening (like a Jack-o-Lantern). Considering Homura’s mutation later in the film…

Mami is cheese, a dairy product made from milk. The purpose of milk is to nurture young, and Mami is easily the most nurturing of the girls, so the cheese is referencing her motherly personality.

I wasn’t very serious about these interpretations to begin with, but in hindsight, there are far more straightforward connections between the girls and their respective foods:

1) According to the Madoka Wiki, raspberries are known as “healing fruit” in Japan. I couldn’t find a source for this, but if it’s true, then the connection to Sayaka should be obvious.

2) Kyoko being an apple is probably an allusion to her religious background (think forbidden fruit). This is reinforced by the fact that she stole a bag of apples in the original series.

3) The pumpkin is another one of Homura’s witch symbols, like the newts and owls.

4) Mami is cheese because Bebe eats cheese, and… well…

…Yeah.

This part makes no sense. The figures start crowding around Homura and Kyoko, and don’t leave until Kyoko agrees to keep a lid on things. Homura’s emotions influence the Gemworld, but all she wants is for Kyoko to keep a low profile. This would mean that Homura wants Kyoko to avoid drawing attention to herself, but at the same time is unconsciously willing attention towards Kyoko. What?

The figures surrounding them probably reflect Homura’s fear of causing too much of a disruption. When Kyoko agrees to keep her head down, the fear is assuaged and the figures leave them alone as a result.

The Incubators should’ve spent more time beta testing their memory-altering tech, because it’s proven to be very easy to awaken the girls’ memories of the real world.

Originally I assumed that the Incubators had wiped the girls’ memories so that they wouldn’t catch on to their plan. However, there’s a distinct possibility that it was Homura altering everyone’s memories, which would explain how she recovered her own so readily (and this is supported by the fact that her new world ability is memory manipulation). Kyubey does explicitly state that he wants Madoka to remember her purpose, so unless he thought that her amnesia was some sort of technical failure, I’m gonna place my bets on Homura.

WHAT THE-?!

This... This thing randomly appears behind Mami and displays a walnut, presumably for cracking purposes. I honestly haven't the tiniest clue what this is supposed to represent. Is it symbolic of Mami's dormant memories "cracking open"? Is it foreshadowing Homura's transformation into the Nutcracker Witch? Just... what the heck?!

Since this happens immediately before Bebe is ruled out as the witch, it’s probably just vague foreshadowing without any real symbolism. It could be argued that the uncracked nut represents the unsolved mystery, but since Homulilly is incapable of cracking nuts to begin with, that feels like a stretch.

A rune briefly flashes. It translates into, “you”. As in Homura.

This is supposed to be an answer to the question, “Who is dreaming?” from earlier. I’m sure most of you already knew that, but I feel as though I should’ve pointed it out anyway.

(If you don’t remember this part, it happens right before Homura does her witch test)

The pink spool reappears, only to be kicked away by the Clara Dolls. Not even Madoka’s influence can save Homura from this despair.

Another possibility is that, in her mind, Homura deliberately defied the Law of Cycles (hence the spool getting kicked). It isn’t until Kyubey opens his telepathic mouth that she realizes this isn’t the case.

Shouldn’t Homura’s parents be wondering where she is? Does she even have parents?! I’ve been wondering that since the original series…

I can’t believe it never occurred to me that Homura didn’t invite her own parents into the labyrinth. That’s pretty strong evidence that they’re either dead, or put her up for adoption at a very young age.

Seeing Kyoko at a diner makes me wish there was a spinoff series exploring the personal lives of the girls (preferably with drama-comedy themes). Also, those familiars are giving me chills.

Another thing that flew over my head is that those familiars were sent to kidnap her. Same with Mama, Hitomi and Kyousuke.

Mami summons a train, and unsurprisingly, it has a teacup motif. The deer are kind of random, though…

Since Mami primarily fights with guns, the deer are most likely a reference to trophy hunting.

The runes translate into, “The Eternal Feminine”. This is probably a reference to Faust, a poem that apparently served as an inspiration for Madoka Magica (it’s about a man who trades his soul for unlimited power. Sound familiar?). Here’s a snippet for context:

“Everything that can be perceived is only a symbol; the imperfect, which cannot be realized, here makes itself reality; that which cannot be described, here finally completes itself. It is the eternal feminine, always attracting us to the higher.”

Homura is definitely drawn to “the higher”, though the underlying theme of salvation kind of gets subverted in the end…

While I still agree with this interpretation, I don’t think I did a very good job at describing/contextualizing it. At the end of Faust, the main character’s soul is saved from damnation and guided to Heaven by Gretchen*. This achievement is attributed to the Eternal Feminine, a female essence that draws humans to salvation. This is precisely what Madoka accomplishes at the end of the TV show and is attempting to do with Homura in this very scene.

*The namesake of Madoka’s witch form.

When the explosion the over, the magic forms this symbol. I’m not sure what it’s supposed to be, though? It vaguely resembles the portal to Magical Heaven, but the color effects make it hard to tell. It might also be a wheel, but the contours are very crystal-like.

Don’t know if this was intentional, but the symbol bears a loose resemblance to a dreamcatcher. “Who is dreaming?” is a recurring question throughout the movie, and at this point in time, the world Homura “dreamed” inside her soul gem is becoming a reality. From her perspective, she’s also preventing a “nightmare” by relieving Madoka of her duties and returning everything she sacrificed.

I’m not sure where else they would go, Homu. You didn’t make a new world, you just rebuilt the old one.

She’s probably talking about the Law of Cycles Dimension/Magical Heaven/Land Without Cheese/whatever you want to call it. Homura only took the part of the Law that contained Madoka’s original identity, but since it was the original Madoka that wished for the Law in the first place, her removal caused the entire system to collapse and expel her angels, too. This is why she says that Sayaka and Nagisa “somehow” got dragged along too even though she only wanted Madoka.

In other words, Homura pulled the wrong block from a Jenga stack.

Lastly, I want to point out an observation I made about Demon Homura’s world. When she unravels the Law of Cycles and renders it inaccessible, but also forces the Incubators to shoulder humanity’s curses, the end result is a “middle ground” between the previous two worlds. Think about it: In the first world, Magical Girls are doomed to become witches, while in the second world, they’re ultimately saved by Madoka. In Homura’s world, however, neither of these things can happen, which means she essentially created a world where there is neither salvation nor damnation. I really hope the eventual sequel explores this concept further; it’s very interesting.

Aaaaaaand that wraps it up! I hope you enjoyed this little bonus round as much as I did!

[atxlxs]

Beyond The Veil: Chapter 10

The Bakugo family dynamic was one of the most unusual Eras has ever seen.

Mrs.Bakugo was an aggressive woman with a confident set to her shoulders and a mouth that puts sailors to shame. Mr.Bakugo, Masaru, was calm and serene. He only stepped in when Mitsuki, Mrs.Bakugo, either didn’t get her point across or was getting riled up. The two complimented each other well and Eras would have been amused if they weren’t currently grating on the last of her nerves.

The word “conditioned” came to mind when she remembered Muska’s parting words from the nurse’s office.

She really hopes these people didn’t help create whatever mental state the ‘Bakugo’ responsible had. She was also starting to realize how confusing referring to people by last names was. You’d think she’d be used to it after all these years. God, she wished she wasn’t here.

During this thought process, the glare she pinned All Might with from earlier never let up. The man was shivering.

“Ah, Welcome! I see You’ve already met Midoriya-san?” Nedzu asked.

The three newest members of the meeting room all nodded as they sat down. The Bakugo’s spared more than a few glances at the newly inflated All Might and Eras herself. She could understand on some base level that seeing someone glare at the number 1 hero was probably rare.

“We’ve been best fucking friends since highschool. Also, I already know it’ll be fuckin confusing so just call Me Mistuki and Masa here Masaru.” She said head held high yet Eras noted the slight defensiveness in her posture.

That was expected, they were here for a training accident after all. One caused by her son but Eras had a feeling she didn't know that yet.

“You can call me Inko as well,” Inko shifted with nerves as she wrung her hands together in an effort to still them, “Is my son alright?”

Nedzu nodded and went to speak, however Eras spoke up first, finally tearing her gaze away from All Might. The man let out a barely audible sigh of relief as she did so.

“You son is doing fine Inko-san. He was quizzing my ward when I went to the infirmary earlier. Sorry to cut you off, Nedzu, however I believe a first hand account would be better than one given by a principal, even if she doesn't know me personally.” Eras saw the tension ease a bit in Inko’s shoulders in response.

“Ah thank you, You're right about that. Your ward? Ah sorry I never caught your name either.” Inko asked, a nervous but nonetheless bright smile on her face.

“My name is Viridis Eras, You can call me Eras considering we’ll be speaking of my ward during this meeting, and I say ward because though she is not my child she is under my care. I was good friends with her parents and so after they passed she came under my guardianship.” Holding up a hand to preemptively silence the condolences, she continued. “It happened years ago so no need for the sorrys.”

The newest occupants of the room all nodded as they redirected their attention to Nedzu, confusion evident on their faces. Nedzu, seemingly able to sense the need for an explanation, cleared his throat and replaced the polite smile on his face with a serious look.

“Thank you for that, Eras-san, though I believe I need to specify why I have called you all here today." Well that confirmed her suspicions from earlier, " As Eras-san already knows, considering her circumstances she was given a summary before getting here, there was a training accident during class 1-A’s heroics class. The injured participants were Viridis Muska and Midoriya Izuku. Though both are completely healed now, except for some aggravated skin where burns were healed.”

Inko looked to be on the verge of crying and the Bakugo’s looked to be edging on realization to why they were called. The word ‘burns’ probably clued them in. They kept shooting glances between Inko and herself.

“The cause of these burns was a gauntlet used as support equipment for Bakugo Katsuki. He was warned beforehand that at close range and indoors, his equipment could be lethal and was ordered by the present instructor, All Might, to stop. He didn’t listen.”

Nedzu paused and let reality seep in. Inko was now actually crying, though not as much as Midoriya was in the infirmary, and the Bakugo pair were now pale. Eras sighed and it dragged the attention back to her. Confusion starting to invade previously horrified faces. Eras allowed her gaze to remain neutral as she turned it onto the Bakugo pair.

“Before I speak my mind on the matter, I would like to ask whether or not this behavior present in your son was encouraged,” once again raising a hand to silence the onslaught she continued, “not that I expect you to encourage violence in him, but did you ever notice previously that his schooling may have intentionally avoided discouraging his tendencies?”

Mitsuki opened and closed her mouth, obviously wanting to retaliate but she sat back and shut her mouth with a scrunched expression. Probably searching for any moments her son’s schooling did in fact do such a thing, after all the person who asked had a child under her care that was just fucking maimed so, small mercies. Surprisingly, it was Masaru who spoke up for the first time since he entered the meeting.

“I believe they did encourage his more… aggressive... ways. It was subtle at first glance but as he grew older I noticed that he stopped speaking about his schooling and instead focused only on himself. As if there was nothing else but his aptitude.” He said with a grimace.

Mitsuki looked appalled for a good second before something may have clicked. Wide eyes of disbelief followed shortly by a sigh of resignation. Eras watched it all, evaluating, analyzing. Once she determined that the parents were, disappointingly, unaware of their son’s habits, she spoke up.

“Muska had warned me before coming here that she believes Bakugo was conditioned into what he is now. Seeing your confirmation, sadly, only proves her right. I have a feeling that his previous schooling was sub par when it came to actively punishing or at least telling him no. This means that he doesn’t even realize that what he did was wrong.” Eras sighed, once again, as she thought about how much of a mess this all was.

“I agree,” Nedzu stated, he had his computer out and seemed to find something on it that prompted his involvement, “I pulled up his middle school records and some concerning things have been made apparent. His record is squeaky clean, even described as a pleasure to have in class and works well with others.”

A snort came from Aizawa who was still leaning against the wall, drawing attention to himself. He sighed as he realized that attention was now on him. Ah, what a mood.

“First day of school he called a student an ‘extra’. I sincerely doubt he was a pleasure in class. Also, considering during the exercise today he immediately left his partner to hunt down the glory for himself, I don’t believe he works well with others either.”

Dry sarcasm is the bane of Eras’s continued intimidation tactic. Seriously, if this man keeps up she may just actually snort. That would ruin the image she was trying to convey damnit.

The group of people sat in silence for a minute. Nedzu sat silently watching the group though, by his tail movement, Eras could tell he had settled on something already. Eras turned back towards All Might with an unimpressed face. Time to wrap this meeting up.

“I recommend giving Bakugo a second chance. Not suspension, but something else. Muska recommended therapy and I recommend anger management. Both may be the best option. As for All Might, I’ll let Aizawa-san rip into you himself regarding your, frankly, stupid idea to set teenagers with little to no training loose in a battle exercise.” Eras glanced at said gruff teacher who gave her a subtle nod and an impish grin. Satisfied that he would take care of it (and he will enjoy the hell out of it), she continued, “Now I will excuse myself to the infirmary once more. Hopefully, I don’t need to come back for a reason like this one again.” The ‘you won’t like what happens’ went unsaid but by the looks on their faces, it was understood.

Standing up, Eras walked over to the door and cracked it open, turning her head to Aizawa, she smiled a fanged smile.

“Keep me updated. I’ll trust your judgement for his punishment.”

With that, she left.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was confused.

Scared.

Lost.

Constricted.

It's been years now hasn’t it? When was the last time he could control his own body? Could he even remember his name?

oboKurogiri

No that’s not it…

He was OboroKurogiri.

Why can't he remember???

An insistent pulling kept tugging at his mind. Trying to do… something, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what. Vaguely he knew that the pull came from something or someone else. Something unnatural was crying out in desperation and hurt. To find...what? What did he need to find?

Sighing, Kurogiri turned to Tomura. The young adult had been extraordinarily calm as he stared at the T.V. The game he was playing early was currently paused. As he continued to clean the bar’s glass, Kurogiri allowed himself to keep an eye on the man. The last time he was so still, his bar’s stools disintegrated.

“Kurogiri.”

Snapping to attention (he begs for his body to stay still, to run, to get away he doesn’t want to be here-) Kurogiri turns to the T.V that sat ominously in the bar.

“Yes, sir?” Kurogiri asked.

“Tomorrow morning, take Tomura to UA, the coordinates will be given in the morning. I think it's time we paid them a visit and gathered some material.”

Nodding his acceptance, Kurokumo can’t help but despair. He doesn’t know why. Can’t figure out who or what was at UA that he didn’t want to see. Or was the word he didn’t want to use harm? He really just couldn’t tell. He couldn’t tell and it tore him apart inside.

The metal on his neck burned, he wanted to rip it off. To be free.

Instead, he polished the glasses in the bar once more.

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Tags:

@baguettehead

[i-am-out-of-my-vulcan-mind]

A Team Effort - Chapter 1

Well this has been a long time coming. My dear friend @lurkingwhump​ and myself have finally done a collab project. 

This is a promo tag to 5x05. I have written the first instalment and lurkingwhump has written the second. The second chapter will be up in a short while. 

I have take it upon myself to fill in my @badthingshappenbingo​ bingo square “internal bleeding”. 

Please let us know what you think 🥰

Tasha had gotten back to the bunker over an hour ago, but there was still no sign of Jane or Weller. 

“Maybe I should go and look for them.” she suggested yet again. 

“Not yet.” Patterson said, continuing to search on her computer, “We don’t know what’s happened and we can’t have you go missing too.”

“Exactly!” Tasha replied, fear evident in her voice. “We don’t know what’s happened to them… they could be injured… or someone might have found them…”

Rich tapped his nose. “Or… they’re making up from the fight they had earlier?” 

“Wait, they’re fighting?” Patterson asked, frowning. She looked up over her monitor at Rich, giving him a pointed look. 

He shrugged, before mimicking buttoning his lips closed. 

Patterson squinted at him. She was sick of him keeping secrets from her… wait? Why was everyone going to Rich in the first place? Rich?

There was a short, yet heavy silence, before Tasha spoke up. “I can’t just sit here and wait. I’m going to go find them.” she said jumping to her feet. 

Just as she finished speaking, the elevator started to descend. Patterson followed suit, standing beside her anxious friend. 

“There… see. Safe and sound.”

“Or not…” Tasha whispered when the elevator doors opened and it revealed Jane hunched over, her shirt covered in blood. 

“Jane!” Patterson cried, running forward to support her. “What happened?”

“I ah… I got shot… but it’s just a graze.” Jane said limping to the table, Patterson helping her sit down. 

“You got shot?” Rich asked incredulously. 

“I’m fine.” she ground out. 

“Really?” Rich replies in a disbelieving tone. “Because you don’t look fine, because you’ve been shot!” 

Jane gave him an exasperated look. She didn’t have time for his antics at the moment. 

“Where’s Weller?” Tasha asked, saving her from having to answer Rich.

“They took him.” she muttered. She looked over at Tasha. “After we went our separate ways, I was attacked. During the fight I heard Kurt calling my name. I managed to knock the guy out and I ran back to Kurt, but they already had him. He was unconscious… they put him into a black SUV.”

“Ok, ok, black SUV, black SUV.” Patterson mumbled, sitting back in front of her computer. “I’ll try and hack the cameras around the area…” she said looking at Jane, “For now though… go clean yourself up.” she said in a softer tone. 

Jane nodded her head in agreement. Her main priority was finding Kurt and if they knew how bad her wound truly was, the focus would turn onto her. No, she needed them to keep thinking it was just a graze for as long as possible. 

0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°

“I can’t believe this! So far this SUV has avoided every camera that we have managed to hack into! I am so sick of not having my actual lab!” Patterson cried, her voice laced with frustration. 

“Ok… so what’s next?” Jane asked, blinking heavily, black spots starting to dance across her vision. She had patched herself up quickly and returned to the others, though the wound seemed to be a lot worse than she had initially anticipated. She was bleeding heavily, and she was guessing she was also bleeding internally. She knew that she was fading fast, but she needed to ignore her own affliction in order to save Kurt. 

Rich and Patterson looked at her, at a loss for words. How do you tell your friend that you can’t find their husband… that there might not be any hope left?

Tasha spoke up softly. 

“There is no next…”

Jane’s eyes widened in disbelief. There was no way they were giving up now!

“We’ve lost him… at least for now.” Tasha continued. “All we can do is change where we are. I know that Weller is strong, but he is still human. If they manage to get anything out of him, we are sitting ducks down here. We need to abandon the bunker. Now.” 

Pain flared in her abdomen, causing Jane to clutch at her side, her eyes falling closed as a wave of dizziness washed over her. Her ears started ringing as the darkness rose to swallow her whole. 

“There’s gonna be a problem with that…” she slurred before her world went black and she collapsed onto the floor with a thud. 

“Jane!” Rich cried out as Patterson and Tasha rushed to her side. Tasha lifted her shirt quickly, inspecting her wound. 

“This is not a graze.” she said, glancing at the other’s in horror. She shared a look with Patterson. This was bad. 

“I’m fine! I’m fine!” Jane breathed, though her voice cracked from the pain. “Look Kur- Kurt is the priority… we have to get him back before…”

“No no no no no.” Patterson cut her off. “You’re the priority. Ok?” she said before pressing down on the wound to try and slow the bleeding. 

“There’s no exit wound, but with this much blood, the bullet must be pressing up against something… an artery or an organ.” Tasha said, looking up at Rich. 

“We’ve gotta get her to a hospital or at least a very shady veterinarian!” Rich cried out, watching Jane gasping in pain. He had never seen someone who was still alive, look so dead. How had they not noticed how serious her injury truly was?

“No, no!” Jane ground out through clenched teeth. “We can’t risk me or anyone else getting caught right now.” she closed her eyes and took a sharp breath through her nose. “We’re doing the surgery here.” she finished, giving Patterson a pleading look. 

“I’m sorry... surgery?” Rich exclaimed in alarm. 

“Ok let’s prep!” Patterson said, not wasting a moment. “We don’t have much time.”

Tasha nodded in agreement. 

“Rich you stay with Jane while we get things ready.” she said, getting to her feet. 

“Hold pressure here.” Patterson ordered, signalling for Rich to quit hovering and actually do something useful. 

He dropped down to his knees, hesitantly replacing Patterson’s hands. He pressed down on Jane’s abdomen, almost jumping back a foot when she cried out in pain. 

“I’m sorry Jane.” he said softly, placing his hands back on her stomach. “You should have told us… why didn’t you tell us?”

Jane forced her eyes open, staring weakly up at Rich. 

“Kurt…” was all she managed to get out. 

Rich nodded in understanding, continuing to apply pressure to her wound. 

Her breathing had picked up and Rich could see her deteriorating before his eyes. 

“Guys!?” he called down the hallway, where he knew the others were prepping in the infirmary. 

Tasha ran to his aid, swallowing anxiously at the puddle of blood pooling on the floor. 

“Oh god…” She and Rich shared a look. Their time was running out. “Let’s get her off the floor.” She bent down and pulled Jane’s left arm around her neck, Rich doing the same on her right. Together they guided her to her feet. 

Jane couldn’t help the cry of pain that escaped through her clenched teeth from the change in position. Gravity did not agree with her. The moment she was vertical, her vision started to swim again, nausea bubbling up her throat. She leaned heavily on her friends. 

“Come on Jane.” Tasha urged. “It’s just up the hallway. It’s not far.”

Jane moaned in pain, though her expression was one of determination. 

“Should you be doing this much lifting in your condition?” Rich muttered at Tasha. 

“Rich. Shuttup.” Tasha warned, though their conversation was falling on deaf ears. Jane’s only focus was making it to the infirmary without passing out. 

They took it one painful step at a time, before rounding the corner into the small infirmary. Jane noted they had already put a fresh set of blue sheets on the medical table. 

They lay Jane gently on the table, Rich moving straight away to reapply pressure to her wound. 

Tasha got to work starting an IV, while Patterson continued to sterilise their surgical equipment. 

“Here.” Patterson said, passing a few packets of gauze to Rich. He opened them silently, placing them on top of the blood soaked bandage that Jane had slapped on there earlier. 

“It’s going to be ok…” he said softly, seeing the fear in her eyes. “Though I still think we should be getting her to a hospital.” he said, directing the second part to Patterson. 

Patterson gave him an incredulous glare. 

“No!” Jane shouted. “We can’t risk it. We do it here or not at all.”

“Ok… ok… I’m sorry. I’m just not overly comfortable about the fact that we are performing surgery in a dusty old bunker with no medical training whatsoever.” Rich replied, his voice rising an octave.

“And I’m not overly comfortable with her getting caught by Madeline and not getting any medical attention at all!”

“Guys stop it!” Tasha yelled. “We don’t have time for this.” She turned back to the freshly inserted IV line and connected it to a bag of saline. “I’m all set here.” she said, moving to help Patterson finish. 

“It’s a good thing we inventoried all of this.” Patterson said, looking at their basic set of surgical equipment. 

Tasha moved off to wash her hands as best as possible, before donning a pair of gloves. She opened some more gauze pads before relieving Rich of his position beside Jane. She started cleaning down the wound with saline, apologising softly at Jane’s groans of pain. 

Patterson finished sterilising everything and quickly scrubbed her hands, following Tasha’s example and putting on a pair of gloves. 

“Rich, can you go and get the ether and the mask out of the supply closet?” Patterson asked, coming over to inspect the wound more closely now that Tasha had cleaned it off. 

“Whatever happens, promise me you’ll find Kurt.” Jane said weakly. 

“We will.” Patterson replied sincerely. “I promise.”

Jane blinked heavily, her breathing becoming shallow. Her head lolled to the side, before her eyes rolled into the back of her head. 

“Jane!” Tasha gasped, shaking her shoulders, trying to rouse her. 

“What happened?” Rich exclaimed, coming back into the room with the ether and a mask. 

“She’s fainted again.” Patterson said urgently. 

“What can I do?” Rich asked. He needed to help. He couldn’t just sit there and do nothing while a member of his family was dying. 

“Get the ether ready.” Patterson ordered. They were running out of time. 

“Jane? Can you hear me?” Tasha called. Jane groaned in response, her face screwed up in pain. “That’s right. Come back.” Tasha sighed in relief. 

“I’m going to give you some morphine.” Patterson said, then we will start administering the ether. 

She injected the morphine into Jane’s IV line, before taking the ether bottle and mask off of Rich. 

“Everything’s going to be ok Jane.” Rich piped up. 

“Just find Kurt.” Jane grunted. 

“On it.” Rich replied. He knew he couldn’t help her here, so he left the room to search back through the camera feeds for her husband. 

“Right… are we ready?” Patterson asked, sharing a nervous look with Tasha. Were they really about to do this?

“Just do it… please.” Jane pleaded. She was running out of time and she knew it. 

“Ok, ok.” Patterson said, placing the mask over her face. It was made of wire, with a hinge that allowed them to put a piece of cloth in between and then clamp it shut. She dripped the ether onto the cloth. “Breathe it in.” Patterson instructed softly. “As deeply as you can.”

Jane grimaced, groaning at the sudden sick feeling in her belly. 

“Jane? You ok?”

She swallowed convulsively.  “Just a little nauseous.” she rasped out, breathing through her nose in short, sharp gasps. 

“You need to breathe it in Jane.” Patterson urged. “I know it’s making you feel sick, but I can’t have you awake for this.”

Jane complied, breathing past the sickness and the pain. 

‘Oh Kurt.’ she thought sadly. ‘What were they doing to him?’

She needed him here. She was just as scared for his health as she was for her own. She was about to have surgery… on her abdomen… in a bunker… by someone who was not a surgeon… or even a doctor for that matter. This was so incredibly dangerous.

She continued breathing in the ether, her consciousness slowly fading away, until everything was black. 

0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°0°

“I’ve found him!” Rich said, rushing into the infirmary. 

The surgery had been a success and Jane’s vitals were remaining strong. 

Tasha looked up from where she had been checking Jane’s blood pressure. 

“Give me the coordinates. I’ll go and get him.” she said, putting the digital monitor down. 

“Wha- by yourself?” he asked, his eyebrow rising in a pointed expression. 

Tasha stonewalled. 

“Why? Are you going to come?” 

“Well… no but…” he stuttered. 

“Exactly. You can’t come and Patterson needs to stay here and keep an eye on Jane. Give me the coordinates.” she said again. 

“You’re scary.” Was all Rich replied, handing over a piece of paper. 

“I’ll see you soon.” Tasha said, before leaving the infirmary. 

Patterson watched after her worriedly. She was right though. What choice did they have?

“How’s she doing?” Rich asked, moving closer into the room. Jane was still unconscious. Truth be told she looked awful. If it wasn’t for the soft rise and fall of her chest, he would have mistaken her for a corpse. 

“She’s holding strong.” Patterson replied. 

Rich sighed in relief. 

“How long until she wakes up?”

Patterson shrugged. 

“I’m not too sure to be honest. She’s lost a lot of blood. I don’t know how long the effects of the ether will last.”

Just as she finished speaking, she noticed Jane’s eyes squeeze shut, a pained groan escaping from the back of her throat. 

Patterson reached for the syringe of morphine and a sedative and injected them both into Jane’s IV. Within seconds, the creases in her face smoothed back out. 

“She should sleep for a few hours now.” Patterson said. “Hopefully Tasha and Kurt will be back by then…” she added trailing off. 

Rich could only respond by nodding. He took the empty seat on Jane’s other side, keeping vigil over his friend. He hesitantly reached out and took her hand.

Patterson gave him a surprised look at the action. 

Rich shrugged. “...until Kurt gets here…” he mumbled, keeping his eyes locked on Jane.

“They’re gonna be ok.” Patterson promised. “All of them.” she added for measure. She only hoped that she was right. They couldn’t survive losing another member of their team. ‘Please hurry.’ she urged Tasha. They all needed to be together again. 

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

Communication Issues (AT:TTSIMBCMEOAYSFIL)- Chapter Four and Epilogue

Ao3,   MasterPost

Ah, the finale!!! Finally it is here!! My brain hurts from editing all this fuckery in one day :/

Relationships: Romantic Analogince, implied romantic Moceit

Warnings: Arguing, yelling, swearing, miscommunication (obviously,,,), crying, an overindulgence of fluff, naps.

Word Count: 8,136

The door to the main house might have snapped off its hinges- but it doesn’t matter, and you don’t care. You throw it open with excessive force, essentially falling outside as you trail behind Virgil. He’s quicker than you by far; he’s practically a blur, in fact. 

You think Janus is calling after the both of you. After notifying Virgil of the situation, he’d been trying to calm you down, but evidently that hadn’t worked. You don’t even glance back at him, sprinting as you come upon the Clubhouse. 

As soon as you reach it, you fall against its wall, dizzy and panting. Virgil is already there, waiting for you to be ready. Or, perhaps he himself is just nervous, because he hasn’t attempted to push the door the rest of the way open. As it stands, it’s open just a crack, casting a sliver of golden light outwards. 

Virgil speaks up, and you can easily confirm that it was his nerves stopping him. 

“What… what do we do now?”

You glance at him, just from the corner of your eye. A small, anxious smile contorts your face.

“Well, we have him cornered, don’t we?”

Hesitantly- and perhaps confusedly, as he has no way of understanding just what you’re referencing- he nods.

“Well, it seems the time has come to profess our love for him,” you say it simply, as though that’ll make it somehow easier for any of you. You want to believe it’ll be as simple, if only for your own sanity. 

Virgil opens his mouth, clearly aiming to spit out some contradiction, but at this point the blood rushing in both your ears has cleared enough for you to actually hear the world around you. And what you hear, from inside this quant shack, is desperate and feverish arguing. 

Virgil steels his expression, inhaling sharply. He stretches his arm out and shoves the door open, crossing the threshold on long, unsturdy legs. You follow his lead without a moment of hesitation. 

As soon as you enter, you see him, right across the room from you, and you aren’t in the least prepared for it. 

He (blessedly) hasn’t noticed you or Virgil, yet. He’s much too busy ranting incoherently at Patton, who is… also here, for some reason.

You can’t make out a word he’s saying, and there’s no way to tell if Patton can either. He’s shaking, pale and clearly panicking. But it’s him. He looks a wreck, the poor thing, but he’s really here.

You glance at Virgil, seeing his reaction matching closely to yours; lips parted in shock, face slack, his hands fisted at his sides. You’d take the time to admire him, too, if not for your current circumstances. Instead, you inch a bit closer for his support, tapping his wrist to draw his attention. He takes your hand without question, holding it so tight it’s nearly painful. 

Luckily or unluckily- you can’t be sure- the burden of speaking up doesn’t fall on either of you. Patton spots you but a second after you enter, catching sight of you over Logan’s shoulder. His eyes widen, his expression caught between relief and terror. Whichever it is, it’s very toothy. 

You try to flash him a smile back, but he’s already turned his attention back to Logan. 

“Logan-! Logan, listen, please?” He cuts the rambling off, tentatively reaching to grab the logical trait’s trembling wrists. 

“What?” He snaps back, harshly.

Patton takes a deep breath, staring intensely at the floor. When he looks up, he makes direct eye-contact with you first, and then Virgil, his shoulders hiking up anxiously. You steel yourself as Logan follows the gaze, turning around and finally seeing you. 

His eyes are big and round, his arms are shaking. His gaze sweeps over you both, stopping quite obviously on your connected hands. 

You worry, briefly, that he’ll slam a mask down over his face, as he so often has before to contain such strong displays of dismay as this. But Logan does quite the opposite. In less than a second, that shocked and vulnerable expression is swallowed up by a furious ire, one that you can’t help but shrink back at. Virgil squeezes your hand, as much for your comfort as it is for his own. 

Logan’s mouth opens, and you almost believe he’ll yell at you- scream his lungs out and hurl insult after insult- but, yet again, he challenges your expectations. 

“Patton, let go!” His eyes constantly flit between Virgil and you, but he refuses to address either directly, “Let me go, I’m leaving!”

Virgil’s frozen in place. You draw breath to speak, but Patton makes a very aggressive and un-Patton-like gesture that pretty clearly communicates one thing: Shut it, Princey. You take the order, folding your unoccupied hand just under your sternum.

“Logan, just hear them out, please? Please trust me?” Patton pleads, one of his hands closing over Logan’s shoulder in a sturdy grip. The facet’s struggling lessens; he breaks his death-glare at you long enough to turn on Patton, his look softer but not by much. 

As if to give more incentive for Logan to trust him, Patton releases his arms, stepping back and giving him space. He holds his hands up, palms out, in a show of peace.

“I- I don’t think this is a good idea,” Logan hisses it out in a rush, like you and Virgil aren’t meant to hear.

It’s at this point that Virgil tries to interject, but yet again Patton waves his hands around angrily. It’s a strange form of some made-up sign language that probably means something like: For the love of God let me handle this for two seconds before you jump in. Virgil, too, takes the order.

“If it doesn’t go well, then you come right back to me, ‘kay? I’ll take care of you, and you can tell me you told me so all you want, and I’ll never ever make you do anything like this again,” Patton gently assures, resting his hand on Logan’s shoulder, “But I really think you should let them explain themselves. It might help more than you think it will.”

“I- How do you know-?”

“Because they-” he looks pointedly at you, and you try not to shrink any further into yourself at the intensity he carries, “-have been so worried about you. Oh, don’t give me that look, they have- you know I wouldn’t say that if I didn’t believe it. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I thought it would hurt you, kiddo.”

That mollifies Logan a good deal, he’s leaning into Patton’s touch. His gaze flickers to the both of you once more, eyes narrowing, before he’s huffing out a sigh.

“Okay. I- okay.” 

Patton grins briefly, much too wide and much too cheery for the circumstances, and he draws back. He walks, slowly, from the couch to the door- to you. He pauses, sending you and Virgil A Look. He leans in, not for very long, and whispers so only the both of you can hear. 

“I know what’s going on here, and I do believe you. I want to believe that you have this handled. But if you two ever- and I mean ever- hurt that boy again, even if it’s an accident, then don’t you expect me to vouch for you again.” 

His expression is deadly serious. 

You nod, as hard and as fast as you can.

“Thank you so much, Pat, I owe you one- I owe you so many,” Virgil whispers back, leaning towards Patton as he steps away from you. That firm, scolding expression melts into fondness at the words, and Patton shakes his head. He turns his back, and with that, he leaves. The door clicks politely shut behind him. 

And it’s silent.

Logan won’t look at either of you, determined to glare at the rug instead. 

But he’s not going anywhere. 

But neither is this interaction. 

But he’s here.

Where can you begin?

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Virgil blurts, and yeah, that might be a start. Not an eloquent one, but asking for that would probably be a bit over-expectant anyway. 

Logan doesn’t respond to the apology. His shoulders hunch up further, his arms hugging around his middle. The anger is practically radiating off him in waves, such a fierce passion that it’s kind of screwing with your senses in that area.

But, you realize with a start- he isn’t just angry. No, it’s more complicated.

You look at Virgil, for confirmation. You find it in his mismatched eyes, swirling with someone else’s emotions as well as his own.

Logan’s scared. 

“Spe- Logan,” you stammer, “I know that this seems, uh, not good, but we really didn’t mean to upset you. The timing, it was just-”

He snorts, humorlessly, standing up much straighter and crossing the room in just a few long strides. He glowers down at you, then up at Virgil, face flushed. 

“Well, I’m sure you regret it now. It’s not quite as funny anymore, is it?”

“It wasn’t funny at all!” You shout. 

“Oh, I’m inclined to agree with you, Roman.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it!”

Logan makes a very, very awful and frustrated sound, tugging a hand through his hair.

“Oh, I’ve come to see that many things I thought that I knew about you are wrong!”

Virgil shoots a concerned glance between the two of you, but you talk over him all in a rush.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, if you’d just let us-”

“Let you what? Mock me again? Make a fool out of me?”

You growl, sharp and animalistic, tugging your hand out of Virgil’s and gesturing wildly. And then you make a bad decision. 

“How are you such a horrible fucking listener!?”

You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth, sucking in a breath as though you could take them back in. Virgil gasps, short and shocked, and his eyeshadow darkens down his cheeks like a waterfall. 

It’s quiet only long enough for Logan to really process, to really work himself up, like he’s about to berate you with even more fervor. It’s almost frightening.

“I’m a bad listener?! Because I seem to recall that the both of you, last time I tried to talk to you, laughed in my face! How’s that for ‘listening’, hm? Did you even think about what I was-! When I was trying- I was trying to say-”

Virgil’s panic abates enough to make room for confusion. He leans forward, cautiously reaching for Logan.

“What were you trying to say?”

Logan winces at the distortion, hitting his hands away before they get anywhere near him, snarling.

“That I cared about you, so much, and I- I wanted to do well by you, even though I knew it would only hurt me in the end. Because I wanted you to be happy together, and that was more important than- than my own feelings. I had to leave you be, I knew it, but you just wouldn’t- you-!”

He’s not making any sense, dammit. He loses steam, drawing in gasping breaths. Exhaustion bogs him down, making him look weak and frail; he’s growing resigned to the situation, and his own words, as though he thinks they’re already out of his control. 

It breaks your heart.

“I wanted it,” he gasps, “I wanted a part of what you had, badly. But I knew how ridiculous that was, and I was trying to tell you as much. I was giving you the out, so to speak, from me and my company, but you...” 

It’s as though all his anger from mere moments ago has evaporated like steam. He’s curling in on himself, his face tilted down. His voice shrinks to barely more than a whisper, nearly inaudible.

“You didn’t have to laugh at me.” 

Virgil jumps, like he’s broken from a trance, and wordlessly jolts forwards and scoops Logan up in his arms. The side struggles, but Virgil’s grip is unrelenting, nearly lifting him off the floor.

“Okay, that was your time to talk, now it’s ours,” he gives you a very serious Look, “Right, Roman?”

“Oh- yes, right,” you step forward, much less confidently than Virgil, and wrap your arms around the both of them. It is the Pinnacle of an Awkward Hug (mostly because Logan has not stopped trying to escape), but Virgil seems to think that it’s the right course of action, and you don’t have any other leads to follow. 

“Okay, point one: we weren’t laughing at you because you- uh, cuz you had a thing for us, I guess.”

“We were laughing because you were being stupid!” You tack on, somewhat-unhelpfully, “You thought we liked each other more than we like you, that was the stupid part.”

“Yeah,” Virgil nods,“Cause you were right about one thing, L. We- uh, we like each other. A lot-” you snort at the phrasing. He gives you a sharp glare before continuing. “-But we like you, too.”

Logan stands frightfully still, his arms pulled up uncomfortably in some weak attempt to keep distance between his body and both of yours. 

“What- what are you talking about?”

You meet Virgil’s eyes in question. He nods, shifting so he can wrap an arm around your waist as well. 

“We love you, Teach,” his breath hitches, but you choose to take it as a good sign, “I love you, so much. You both- both of you have done so much for me- oh, how couldn’t I love you?”

“You get me,” Virgil adds, smiling sweet and warm at you as he speaks to Logan, “You’ve always been there for me. You know how to, uhm, deal with me, better than anyone, I guess. So, yeah. I love you. And Ro.”

Logan pushes back against the both of you again, but this time it’s not an escape; it isn’t a fight. You let go of him, and Virgil in the process, and allow him to step back. He doesn’t go very far.

“I don’t understand,” he whispers, fragile, his head tilted to one side.

“Which part are ya stuck on, L?”

He glances at you, a positive whirlwind of emotion fighting behind his eyes. 

“You… I understand the both of you being romantically involved,” he starts, slowly, holding fingers up like he’s keeping track of points of data. “And I believe I understand my- my misinterpretation of your previous outburst, which is certainly a relief- though it does make me feel a bit silly for how strongly I reacted.”

“Oh, we’re all overemotional divas, sometimes,” you wave a dismissive hand, smirking at him. In return, he offers a small and unsure smile, and nods. 

“Yes. I just don’t quite get. Um. You- you and me?” His eyes widen after he says it, and you see a spark of something upsetting in them. It takes him a good deal of effort to say the next part: “You aren’t doing this just to console me, are you?”

“No!” You and Virgil shout in unison, horrified. 

“But you two are already perfect for each other!” He protests, “Your casual affection, your shared interests, your banter-”

“You say all that like we don’t have that with you, too!” Virgil interrupts. 

“That’s different.”

Virgil rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Is it? Or do you see it that way because you can watch us, but you can’t exactly watch yourself?” 

Logan quickly becomes concentrated on the question, opening and closing his mouth in lieu of a response.

“We can watch you, though! Like  the way you and Virgil always seem to talk without ever talking, and just, like, shrugging at each other. It’s kind of creepy,” you point out. Virgil hums in agreement, a small smile on his lips.

“Yeah. You and Ro’s whole poetry thing is literally- like, there’s no platonic explanation for that. It’s gross.” 

“I-” Logan cuts himself off, his eyes widening, “Perhaps you have a point.”

“We do. Look, it took you yelling at us about how obvious we were being for me to get off my ass, to actually do something about my crush on Princey here, which probably says something about perspective.”

Logan hums, thoughtfully, a surprisingly subdued reaction. You feel a striking amount of pride well up in your chest. You bump your shoulder against Virgil’s as a sort of high-five, a gesture that he returns with a smirk. This is honestly going better than you thought it would! (...Though you were under the impression that this conversation would end in tears or violence, so that’s not a very high bar).

“You love me,” Logan says at last, his expression blank. 

“Yup!” You confirm, popping the ‘p’. 

“Ah. Alright, then.”

He pauses. And continues to be paused. For time enough that you grow unsure of yourself. Is he… processing it? You really don’t know what’s going on in that brain of his when he gets quiet like this.

“Yes,” he confirms nothing in particular to no one in particular, “I feel very foolish now, in retrospect.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Virgil chuckles.

“I’m not sure what to say,” Logan’s face breaks into a smile, wide and brilliant, “I just- wow, this could have been so easily avoided,” he places his hand on his temple, staring into space. He trembles a little, and you fear you’ve somehow managed to get him crying again. But then he doubles over, his arm around his stomach as he giggles uncontrollably. His laughing turns wheezy very quickly, as his breathing is interrupted constantly by little shouts of amusement. “Oh, this was all so absurd!”

You watch him, and very suddenly you remember a scene much like this, weeks and weeks ago. You understand exactly how he felt, then, when he saw you laugh for the first time in a long time. 

At this moment, his happiness is the only sight to you, and it is a beautiful one. 

Virgil lets out a soft laugh alongside him, hiding it behind his hand and biting his lip. Soon, though, he’s losing himself, and that sets you off too- and within seconds all three of you are cracking up laughing. Tears in the corners of your eyes, hands clutching stomachs, the works. 

You aren’t even sure what’s so funny! And that’s exactly what’s so funny!

It takes a while to settle down and sober up. You wind up on the floor, actually, before you calm down. You think Logan might be on the ground, too, but you aren’t very spatially aware. 

Virgil gains control of himself first, predictably. 

He rights himself, coughing into his fist, and fixing his hair. 

“So you’re okay?” He says to Logan, out of breath. 

“I have no idea,” Logan wheezes in response, “But I love you both very, very much.” 

And that seems to be about the jist of it, for all of you.

Epilogue:

The second you’re back inside, you fall backwards onto the couch without a second thought, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyelids hard enough for it to hurt. A groan- part exhausted, part relieved- rumbles up from your throat, and you sink your fangs into the side of your cheek to stifle it. You’re tired, sure, but you aren’t as much of a fucking drama queen as your- your boyfriends, actually. Cuz that’s a thing that just happened.

Fuck if you know how, by the way.

You feel the cushion by your head dip, the smallest bit, at about the same time that the cushion by your feet contracts abruptly. You huff, because you’re still a little bit of a drama queen, okay, and you’ve earned that right.

Long, spidery fingers tangle in your hair, brushing back your fringe and undoing your spiked up ponytail. At the same time, again, your legs are lifted just slightly before being dropped into a lap, and a large, calloused hand rests on your ankle. 

“I think I’m gonna sleep for, like, five months,” you mumble, letting your arms fall to the side and shoving your face into the couch cushion.

“While I’m fairly sure you were being hyperbolic,” Logan says, his hand catching on a tangle in your hair and slowly working it out, “I wouldn’t be opposed to some rest”

You snort. An obnoxious noise, but they seem to be like it anyway, so you try not to hate yourself too much for it. 

Roman makes some sounds that vaguely indicate he wants to talk. You wait. He’s quiet for a good, long while, his nails scraping along the loose threads of your ripped jeans. You crane your neck up to squint impatiently at him; him and Logan have this bad habit of disappearing into introspections mid-conversation, and it’s very annoying.

“I-” he starts, stops. Makes more sounds. “Hmm.”

You wait. After about ten seconds, you kick him (very lightly!) in the ribcage. 

“I was just wondering,” he finally says, glaring at you, “If you two are really feeling alright. What’s on your minds, or- how are you?”

Ah, there it is; the deceptively simple check-in question. Logan’s hand tenses in your hair, almost imperceptibly. You reach one of your own up to meet his, tracing your claws around his knuckles soothingly. 

“Um, better than earlier,” he says, “Much better, actually. Though I’m still a bit on edge, I suppose.”

Roman nods, a very soft look on his face, before glancing at you. You can feel Logan’s eyes on you, too, and it almost makes you squirm. You let go of his hand in favor of fussing with your sleeves.

“’M good. Comfy,” you mutter, attempting a shrug despite your horizontal position. 

“Are you sure?” Logan prods, leaning over you concernedly. You fight the urge to roll your eyes, grinding your teeth. 

“I don’t know. It’s fine.”

Yeah, that’s not gonna work.

“It’s not a big deal.”

Getting further away, Virgil.

“I’m really fucking tired, okay?” Alright, a little harsher than strictly necessary, but that’ll do. It gets a laugh, at least. “Like, I’ve got no idea what I’m supposed to say or do anymore, and I don’t have the energy to think about it. I am happy, though. Or, like, relieved. I guess I wish I were happy under- I dunno, different circumstances?”

The hand in your hair moves, slipping from your swoopy bangs and cradling the side of your face upside down. You let Logan tilt your head up. It’s a very odd sight, seen from such an angle, when he leans down and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. When he pulls back, you feel at least a little less like a living corpse.

“Gross,” you sigh. 

“You know what I think?” Roman muses, tapping rhythmically against your leg. 

“I never do in the slightest,” Logan replies.

“You can do that?” You ask.

He whacks your knee. You hiss. He ignores this.

“I think,” he carries on, “That we would be less tired if we took a nap,” he stretches his arms up with a yawn, as if to emphasize his point.

“That would be nice,” Logan agrees, “If it weren’t for the fact that I’d… prefer not to return to my room at the moment.”

You gnaw at the inside of your cheek, again, before speaking up.

“I’d also prefer that you not do that. And we all know my room isn’t a good place to sleep.”

“Nor Roman’s, really. It’s very energetic.”

“Right, so-”

Whatever you’re trying to say is cut off as Roman once again lifts your legs up, shifting them to the side. He kicks off his boots, shifts around a bit, and proceeds to drape himself all over you inelegantly. You make a few vague noises of complaint and discomfort before he finally slots himself into a somewhat acceptable position on top of you. It’s not too difficult; he’s burly, but he’s still so very very short and bendy. You wrap an arm around his waist, holding him to yourself.

“So we’re staying here, cuz I already got settled,” he says with finality, his face pressed just under your collarbone. You arch your head back, toeing off your own sneakers and letting them fall to the floor as you look up at Logan. 

“Can’t argue with that, can we, L?” 

He looks distinctly exasperated with you, but you know him well enough to see that it’s really thinly veiled adoration.

“I could argue, should I be inclined.”

“That’s for sure,” Roman mutters, “We could get you worked up about anything if we’re annoying enough, specs.”

He’s very huffy about that comment (Roman has a point, though), standing up and stopping short when Roman whines at him.

“Where are you going?” He drags the last word out. You poke him in the ribs to make him shush. 

“I’m getting you a blanket, and a more suitable pillow for Virgil. You can hardly sleep comfortably like that.”

Roman groans- which is also an annoying noise- and snaps his fingers. A light, large, and fluffy blanket falls over the both of you instantly, in conjunction with something puffy and soft expanding beneath your head. You hum, sinking further into the conjured objects happily.

“Ah, right,” Logan mutters to himself.

“Good? Good, now come here,” Roman disentangles one of his arms from around you to make grabby hands at Logan.

“Oh, it looks cramped as it is. You know, I’m not that tired, anyway.”

You’re the one to get annoyed with him this time, making a sloppy gesture with your free hand. The couch stutters in place, almost like a glitch, before eventually succumbing to your will. The cushions extend way out past your cramped up little spot, making the large piece of furniture look more like an oddly shaped bed than anything else. 

“Good enough for you?”

Logan blushes brightly, refusing to make eye-contact with you. He mutters out something that might be an ‘it’ll do, I suppose’, or some other slightly stubborn assent, and shuffles over to you. You lift the edge of the blanket up when he reaches you, letting him fit himself comfortably against your side. He does so reluctantly, prompting you to drop the covers in favor of grabbing him by the hip and pulling him against you, pressing your face into his slightly ruffled hair. His breath hitches. You fight the urge to laugh.

Roman hums contentedly, uncurling from you just enough to clumsily get a limb around Logan’s shoulders. You’re decently certain that he’ll wake up whining about how sore his arm is from the position, but you leave that worry for later, letting yourself finally, finally relax.

Logan lays with his arms pressed awkwardly between his chest and your torso, but the tension steadily eases from him. Within minutes, he’s wrapped around you and Roman, nestled into your shoulder. You do laugh, just a little, when he does something akin to nuzzling you. You rub small circles into his hip with the tips of your fingers, slipping further and further from consciousness as you do so. 

You hear Roman muttering something, but you aren’t sure if it’s directed at you. All you are sure of is that his voice is rumbling and groggy, soothing you even further into sleep. The last thing you feel, before finally slipping away, is a messy kiss delivered to the side of your neck. 

<<<!!!>>><<<!!!>>><<<!!!>>>

You aren’t really unconscious, but you wouldn’t consider yourself ‘awake’ either. You lie comfortably in a middle zone between the two, surrounded by an amazing, burning warmth that starts with your skin and sinks deeper into your core the longer you feel it. You turn your face into it, shifting your body to press that much closer to the heat.

But then, a very small little part of that heat decides to jab you sharply in the shoulder. You groan, batting it away. It persists, prodding you a few more times. You huff, prying your eyes open with a good deal of spite towards the source of disruption.

It is- predictably- Roman. Grinning, loopy Roman, whose face is just inches from yours. You might move back, but Virgil’s chest only accommodates for so much space, so you have to accept the compromising position. 

“What?” You hiss, trying to surreptitiously rub the sleep from your eyes. 

“You look so cute when you’re sleeping,” he answers, dreamily. 

“You’re creepier than Remus, has anyone ever told you that?”

You feel a small bit of pride at just how affronted Roman looks. 

“It’s not creepy,” he argues, “It’s romantic.”

“Close enough,” you respond, smirking at him. He glares balefully at you, but it’s very difficult to take him seriously when he looks just as tired as you feel. Speaking of: “Why did you wake me up, then, if I’m so aesthetically pleasing while asleep?” 

He actually looks a bit sheepish at that, giving an awkward one-armed shrug. 

“I don’t know, I just… I woke up and got this urge that I should maybe. Talk to you,” his voice breaks out of whisper repeatedly; he’s atrocious at volume control. Virgil stirs, grumbling something unintelligible and tightening his grip around the both of you, but he doesn’t seem to be waking. 

Roman gives a long pause, just to make sure he’s in the clear, before continuing. “It seemed important. Maybe it’s not, though.”

You give a breathy little laugh, rubbing against his ribs with the pad of your thumb. It’s a strangely intimate gesture, and one that- until recently- you never thought you’d get the privilege to offer. 

“You’re very impatient, Roman.”

“And you aren’t?” He inquires, quirking a brow. You ignore the comment. 

“What did you want to talk about?” You whisper, much softer, more serious. He meets your eyes for just a second, hesitating. There’s a pause of a good few minutes- in which his fingers play on the knolls of your spine and his eyes become increasingly unfocused- of absolute noiselessness. You wait patiently, not quite minding the peace of it.

You might be falling asleep again when he does find the words to answer, bringing you to attention suddenly. 

“I missed you this week.”

The words, short and simple they may be, drop a heavy weight onto you. You can’t identify the specific feelings- maybe guilt? Or remorse? Perhaps frustration? Well, regardless, something twists in your gut. The feelings are almost relieving, because even if they’re horrible, at least they’re there, which is quite refreshing from this past week. 

You exhale, shaky. 

“I missed you, too. Although, to be perfectly honest, I wasn’t sure if it was a week or not.”

Roman’s face flits from bittersweet to confused in a matter of seconds.

“What do you mean?”

Your face heats in embarrassment. You bury it in Virgil’s hoodie- which is admittedly a childish reaction, but you can’t bring yourself to care about that.

“Don’t tell him,” you gesture to the being you’re currently clinging to, “I don’t want him to concern himself too much.”

Roman purses his lips, making a small and concerned noise in the back of his throat. 

“Well, how bad is it?”

You sigh, a defeated and borderline pathetic sound.

“I just… I seem to have lost track of time, this past week. Truthfully, you could tell me it had been just a few hours, or that it had been a month, and I’d believe you.”

He gasps softly, which you think might be a little bit over the top, but alright. 

“Logan, are you saying-”

“I had no idea how long I’d been in there, yes.”

Roman’s quiet- deadly quiet- for a horrible stretch. You look up at him, knowing that you’re probably more of an emotional wreck than you’d like to be. To your surprise, the first thing he does is make a whining-crying sound, adjusting so that he’s holding the side of your face in his hand. He presses your foreheads together, breathing in a hitched and shallow way. Have you made him cry? Goodness, maybe you shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place, if it has this kind of effect on him. 

You’ve always hated seeing him so distraught. He looks so much better when he’s grinning, when he’s happy and proud. But something about the rawness of his look now- it’s almost painful. 

“I can’t believe I-” his voice cracks, “I should’ve done something sooner. Oh, mi amor, if I’d known, I-”

“No, that’s not fair,” you interrupt, in nearly as broken a tone as his. “I’m the one that kept myself in there. I- I made you leave me alone in the first place!”

Virgil shifts in his sleep; you bite down on your lip, harshly. 

“Oh, please,” Roman snaps, but he’s also taking care to stay quiet now, “When you first found me in such a sorry state, the both of you were at my side in an instant. I should’ve known to do the same. I really should have broken your door down, no matter what Patton said.”

“Wait-” you nearly laugh in surprise, “You and Patton had a conversation about sieging my door?”

He gives you a teeny little smile, a shadow of pride lingering in it.

“It wasn’t a conversation so much as it was him physically restraining me, but you get the idea. You know, I probably could have pulled it off if I tried at night instead.”

“I’m sure you could have, Roman,” you say, looking oh-so fondly at this reckless, ridiculous creature that you’ve somehow fallen in love with. The tension this exchange started with is quickly disappearing, much to your relief. “Although I don’t know if you would have gotten through to me, unfortunately. As it is, Patton is a very good mediator.”

Roman chuckles softly, his face screwing up in embarrassment. 

“Yeah, we could use one of those, couldn’t we?”

You hum in vague agreement, angling your head enough to give him a small kiss on the cheek. He gasps again, this time very obviously trying to be Extra, and he pulls back sharply. You roll your eyes at the shocked face he puts on, but you can’t hold up your frustrated façade when he leans in again and peppers your face with kisses. You fail quite spectacularly, in fact- your face flushes bright, and your smile grows uncomfortably wide. It feels wonderful, to finally have this, after the wanting and wanting and wanting. 

Roman pulls back properly after that, his eyes twinkling and crinkled at the corners. You notice now the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose and his forehead, so often covered by makeup. You’d ask why- they’re beautiful- but that might be rude. You resolve to admire them quietly, while he gives you the opportunity. 

“I’m not letting you out of my sight now, of course,” he purrs, massaging just under your eyes with his thumbs. You get a glimpse of bubblegum-pink nail polish before they fall closed, your sleepiness returning to you.

In your half-asleep, warm, adoring state, you find yourself muttering a sickeningly sappy sentiment- obviously, if you were in your right mind, you’d never say it- just before drifting off. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

<<<!!!>>><<<!!!>>><<<!!!>>>

Your back hurts, your arms ache, and you really need to pee. You’re also acutely aware of a heavy, uncomfortable weight pressing down against your sternum. You force your eyes open, only to find them stinging and also sore, somehow. Like, they’re eyes, how are they even allowed to do that?

A groan escapes you. You’d very much like to rub your face, but unfortunately your arms are trapped by that pressing weight on you. 

The memories of what happened and where you are flood back to you then, bringing a small smile to your face despite your discomfort. Logan and Roman are pressed into either side of you, their hands intertwined and resting on your stomach. It’s obnoxiously sweet- seriously, you might gag. But, like, in a good way. 

The cuteness of the situation is enough to distract you for approximately thirty seconds, because then a sharp pain shoots up from your lower back. Yeah, this is ridiculous, you need to get up. 

You try- very carefully- to shoulder your arms free. You manage it after way too much awkward maneuvering, and then you really don’t know where to go. You’re squished between them, and all three of you have gotten your legs very tangled together. The position is odd, but maybe if you could just find your center of gravity, you could teleport? But that would risk dragging one or both of them with you, and that probably wouldn’t be a good way to wake up, would it-?

Logan stirs next to you, lifting his head up with a small, sleepy sound.

“V?” He mutters, his typically slicked-back hair springing up in messy curls, falling into his face. 

“Oh, hey,” you give him an apologetic look, watching as he gropes groggily for his glasses, “Good, uhm- morning?” You glance up at the clock, confused by the timeline this author has fucked up so completely. You slept through the night, and it’s about five-forty in the morning, apparently. Much earlier than you’d ever wake up, but to be fair the three of you fell asleep at a 3rd graders bed-time. 

Logan grumbles something unintelligible, locating his glasses on the floor by the couch-bed and shoving them onto his face. 

You take the opportunity to free yourself from the little nest you’ve made, struggling up onto wobbly legs and leaning on the arm of the couch for support. Jesus Christ that was horrible for your back. 

“What…?” Logan trails off, looking at you with squinted eyes behind his thick frames. The sight makes your lips quirk up in something like a smile.

“Nothing, L, I just had to use the bathroom,” you explain, keeping your voice hushed so as not to disturb a noticeably snoring Roman.

He nods, once, before shuffling back to his spot on the couch. He flops down, kicking his legs under the covers and curling up against Creativity. If you were more prone to cuteness- which you aren’t, for the record- it would probably be a little (a lot) bit adorable. 

“’M not goin’ back to sleep,” he grouses, unconvincingly, “Just… laying down… to wait.”

Wait for what? You don't ask, choosing instead to settle your eyes on the sight of your two partners huddled close together. Okay, so it’s cute, so what? Lots of things are cute, no one has to make a big deal out of it!

You exhale through your nose, breaking your gaze from them long enough to actually move on to what you got up for. It doesn’t take long, and when you return you hover by the couch for a moment. 

A sort of restlessness- a very familiar one- has made its home in your chest. You rub at your eyes almost harshly, itching at the gunk caught in the corners. In all your soreness, you find it pertinent to stretch; arms above your head, then down to your toes, and in a few motions you're in a somewhat impromptu yoga routine.

By the end of it, some ten or fifteen minutes later, you feel a little bit less like a sloppily patched-together ragdoll of ligaments and muscle. You seat yourself gingerly in the corner of the sectional, just close enough to the pair of snuggling sides that you can run your spindled fingers through Roman’s hair. 

You pull your legs up beneath you, sitting criss-cross and summoning your headphones and laptop. They’re a bit far across the mindscape, but they come easily enough with a sharp pull. 

You settle in with a good horror flick, pulling your headphones over your ears and letting yourself zone out. You stay that way for an indeterminate amount of time, idly watching the suspense that plays out on screen while carding your hands through Roman’s hair (no matter how tempting it would be to ruffle Logan’s curls, you resist the urge, knowing that he can’t stand touches to his head). It should be boring- maybe even aggravating, sitting still for so long when you are the embodiment of jitters and jumps- but it isn’t. It’s something… peaceful, maybe, would be the right word. Or content, as you are with them, waiting patiently for Roman and Logan to awake.

And they do. Well, Logan does, about half-way through the film you’re watching. He props himself up on his elbows, straightening his glasses and looking up at you. 

You hit the spacebar to pause, sliding your computer off your lap and onto the cushion beside you. 

“Good morning. Again,” you send him a teasing smirk, watching him move up into a sitting position very slowly. 

“Good morning,” he replies, his smile awkward, “I must have been more tired than I first assumed.”

You hold back a small laugh, giving him a feigned look of importance.

“Well, you know what they say about assuming.”

“As… Sue, ’n me…” Comes the mutter from below your hand. You look down, somewhat surprised, to see Roman turning over in a semi-conscious state. You have no idea how awake he actually is, or if he’s just a weirdly perceptive sleep-talker- but either way you burst into a bout of startled chuckling. 

That seems to wake him properly, his head jolting up with a cut off snore. You pull your hand from his tangled hair, watching as he struggles to orient himself.

“Good morning, Roman,” Logan greets.

“Mornin’, Babe,” he responds gruffly, making Logan’s face flush red. He coughs, awkwardly. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it, Babe,” you mock, the statement serving to darken his blush considerably. To be fair, your statement isn’t entirely untrue; your boyfriend is very fond of pet-names, so you’ve become very accustomed to them. And possibly a bit appreciative of them. 

Roman’s managed to sit up enough to slump back against the couch cushions, taking the blankets with him and wrapping them around his head. His eyes are narrowed enough that they look closed, and you are reminded of just how much he hates waking up early.

“Why are we awake?” He growls. 

You shrug noncommittally, gesturing to the still-elongated couch on which you all sat. 

“My back hurt.”

“We did fall asleep at about eight, last evening,” Logan points out. His eyes widen just after he does, pressing his index and middle fingers against his temple in sudden frustration. “Oh this will be horrible for my sleep schedule!”

You snort, shoving him lightly in the shoulder.

“Ah, yes, the worst of our worries.”

He glares at you, and your smile widens. Partially because messing with him is funny, and partially because you know your fangs make it hard for him to focus (which is also very funny). 

“I- Well, it’s crucial to keep a consistent sleep schedule, because you need to-”

“‘Maintain your circadian rhythm, to ensure a higher quality of living’,” you and Roman parrot, in near unison. You hardly blink at the coordination, but Logan seems very startled.

“Ex-actly,” he mutters, bemusedly.

“You can spare us the lecture this early, Teach,” Roman tells him, “Cuz we already seem to have it memorized.”

“Ah,” a beat. “Good.”

There’s a short, companionable silence; Roman is still waking himself up, Logan seems deep in thought, and you briefly turn your attention back to the movie. A few minutes pass, and Logan stands. You look up at him in question as he shifts the couch back into its normal form, making his way across the room.

“Someone ought to get started on breakfast by now,” he says plainly, disappearing into the kitchen. You shrug, shifting your headphone back over your ear and settling in. 

Roman sinks out some ten minutes later, clattering around upstairs as he gets ready for the day. The morning sun is now clearly visible, the light filtering through the blinds. It probably won’t be long before Patton’s up and about, bringing with him the energy that the day really needs to get started.

When Roman returns, dressed up in some fresh clothes, he drops down beside you and leans his head on you. He presses his ear against the outside of your headphones, watching the movie over your shoulder. 

It’s nearing the end, so of course he has to ask you question after question after question about the plot. You pretend to be annoyed, but you answer them anyway, letting him gradually piece together what’s happening. His commentary is, as always, never-ending and loud, but again you tolerate it. It’s more fun like this, anyway.

The whole time, you can distantly hear crackling, and very clearly smell something delicious from the kitchen. Logan’s always been the best chef out of any of you, even if he doesn’t use the ability as often as he could- something about the technicality of it, or the precision needed, or whatever it was. 

You and Roman are bickering over the credits by the time he’s finally done, coming back into the room smelling of bacon and batter. You look up from your (pretty pointless) argument, smiling at him. 

“Hey, L.”

Roman glances up briefly, flashing a smile before going back to his impassioned diatribe that you were only half-listening to in the first place.

Logan hesitates by the doorway. You can feel his eyes boring into you from those few feet away, drawing a very exasperated sigh from you. You back out of the credits with a couple aggressive taps, giving a pointed look to the still-rambling Roman. 

“What?” He snaps, scrunching up his nose. You narrow your eyes before not-so-subtly directing the glance to your third, still hovering just inside the living room. Roman follows your gaze, his argumentative look turning quickly to exasperated understanding. 

“Hey, specs!”

Logan jumps, obviously having been locked away far into his own head. 

“Are you comin’ over, or what?”

He doesn’t move, but he does look a hell of a lot more embarrassed.

“Breakfast is ready. I- um, I didn’t want to… interrupt…” his voice goes quiet, he glances down at the carpet. 

“Alright,” Roman announces, a bit loud considering how close he is to your ears but okay, “What have we told you, Teach?”

“Yeah,” you agree, shutting your computer with a click and setting it onto the coffee table. “C’mere, stupid, and pay attention to us before everyone else wakes up. We’ll eat with them, later.”

He gives a small laugh, but does as he’s told. As soon as he’s within range, Roman pulls him down and wraps a leg around the taller being, essentially placing himself in his lap. You aren’t quite as clingy, this early in the day, but you do press your shoulder to his. 

Logan’s stiff at first, but just as he did last night, he slowly settles into the touch. You figure it’ll probably be this way for the next week or so- because the same happened with Roman, however long ago when this all started. 

That hits you with a wave of nostalgia and deja vu- smothering most of your other thoughts with its familiarity. You and Logan, personally taking it upon yourselves to help Roman all the same, just a lot more platonically back then. You like to think that’s what started it all, even though you probably had a thing for Logan way before then (wayyyy before then). 

You watch, absentmindedly, as Roman and Logan argue over the TV remote, apparently trying to settle on something to watch. It’s as sweet as it is annoying, a common theme that the two of them share in many aspects.

And God, it hits you what emotional wrecks they are. In a rare burst of confidence, you feel proud that you could be there to help these two get their shit together, relationship wise. Despite both of their intelligence, you’ve somehow become the competent partner. 

Partner. Boyfriend. Whatever you’ll call it. It feels nice to say, about Creativity and Logic. 

You sigh, resting your head on top of Logan’s. He looks at you, questioningly, because he can always tell when you get thoughtful. You smile at him, giving a half-shrug, because you know he knows what that means. It’s good, not a big deal.

Roman wins the fight, eventually, if only because Logan’s off his game from being the primary center of attention. Which is even more like your first night together; Roman setting up some queer cartoon to watch while the three of you cuddle on the couch, content. 

You exhale, long and slow. You really have gone soft for them, haven’t you?

But, you really can’t say that you mind. Because...

They’re worth it. 

Tags: @enbyfriend16 @shrimp-crockpot @glitter-skeleton-uwu @donnieluvsthings @intruxiety @thefivecalls @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @gayformlessblob 

[samuelsongs]

⌠ JEON JUNGKOOK, 22, CISMALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, SAMUEL SONG! according to their records, they’re a THIRD year, specializing in WEAPONS TRAINING/PROTECTION & ENFORCEMENT; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (a hand running through messy hair, an eager wave and toothy grin, various small and friendly tattoos). when it’s the (libra)’s birthday on 10/19/1998, they always request their GUACAMOLE BURGER AND PARMESAN FRIES from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation.

                                                   𝙼𝚈 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴

ACCESS: GRANTED FILE NAME: SONG, S.; UNKNOWN LEGACY

Samuel Song grew up for the first half of his life in sunny California-- Silver Lake, LA, to be exact. He would soon discover that he liked to go by Sam, though he’d respect and treasure his Korean name, Hansol, when the time came. He was a bright kid, full of life and joy and eager to do just about anything. He was always the first one to raise his hand in school or volunteer himself to make new friends. His parents loved the fact that their son was so lively and sweet, and that was in part due to their nurturing and loving nature as parents too.

They both worked in tech, very skilled and adept in their field with great jobs that allowed them to take great care of their home and child. As great as they were at their jobs, they never let it get in the way of being good parents, of making sure that their home life was as open and compassionate and understanding as they believed it should be.

He was three years old when his family welcomed a baby girl, and Sam has probably never had a greater happiness than being a big brother to Ingrid. He took care of her from the get-go, looking after her as a toddler, and always watching over her as they aged. While their parents had the money to hire babysitters, which they did, Sam still liked to always be taking care of Ingrid throughout his life, making sure she had everything she needed to be happy, or at least tried his best to.

Sam was the kind of kid that excelled in most things. He tried out for practically every sport there was, his parents supporting him throughout all the different seasons, and joined as many clubs that caught his eye as he could, something his sharp intellect helped with. His school career would see him as a star of the basketball team, student council treasurer, and president of the debate club all in the same semester, every year looking just as crazy as the last. He couldn’t help it, he just loved to be around others, a part of a team, making his mark. All this work would even help him graduate high school a year early.

At ten years old, his parents got an offer from another tech company, an offer they couldn't refuse, and the family relocated to Great Falls, Virginia across the country. The Song family moved in next door to the owners of the tech conglomerate that hired them, Reign Technology, and Ingrid and Sam met their new childhood friend, Régine Ren-- Rei for short. Despite the kids’ different personalities, they all grew up to care for each other, becoming close friends for pretty much the rest of their lives.

Sam adapted very easily to his new life in Virginia, jumping into his new school with just as much vigor as he always had, making himself out to be the ‘fun new kid’ until he was just as much a part of that community as anyone else. 

The only thing was, as much as he enjoyed every activity, as good as he was at them, there was never anything that he truly loved, that he thought could carry him for the rest of his life. What he loved was being a part of something, but nothing in particular ever really called to him. He’d watch in the coming years as Ingrid would find her passion, and he’d be her number one fan, but he’d always look at her and wonder how it must feel to find your dream.

He went off to college, picking something that sounded exciting on paper, but still didn’t light a fire in him like he wanted it to. But he wanted to be able to think that he chose the right thing, and so he continued to follow it through, because, naturally, he was good at it anyway. Sam was home for the summer after his sophomore year of college when Ingrid confided in him that she’d found something huge.

After the younger Song sibling went on a visit to their parents’ workplace, Ingrid had found something scary, something that convinced her their parents were some sort of villains working for evil masterminds-- or at least tech that seemed to imply that to a creative and impressionable mind. Sam believed her immediately, his own young imagination running wild and the siblings spent the next few weeks trying to prove that their parents weren’t who they said they were.

When they thought they finally had enough evidence, they confronted them, but were met with something entirely different-- and thankfully a little more tame. Their parents confessed that they were actually retired spies, and their jobs at Reign Tech were due to that. Suddenly everything made more sense, even though it hardly made sense that their normal, PTA-member parents could have had any past as cool and exciting as espionage. There was one more catch, however.

Not only were their parents ex-spies, they were actually connected to one of the biggest names in the history of espionage-- and assassination, actually. Sam and Ingrid’s father was a Blackthorne descendant, though for the safety of his young children, had asked his family to hide that side of them from the Song kids. Sam knew the name Blackthorne, but only as the last name of the cousin he loved so much, the fun uncles, and the serious grandpa from his dad’s side. And now he was realizing that all along they were actually one of the most prominent families in the spy community.

What’s more was, well, the Blackthornes had their own school. While it took some genuine debating and convincing of his parents, it was mostly a no-brainer to Sam. This is what he was meant to do, this was why he had never found a true purpose in life. He was destined to be a spy. His father warned him that Blackthorne would be unlike any other school he’d ever been to or heard of, that it would be the hardest thing he’d have to endure, and that his ancestry might hurt him more than it would help. But Sam was determined, hopeful that he had the guts to handle it.

So, in 2018, he enrolled as a first year at Blackthorne, and just as he had expected, it was nothing like he was expecting. Luckily, he did have third year and cousin Emmett Blackthorne at his side, who took the brunt of the family name and all its hurdles as well as provided him with a kind face to stick by when he didn’t know what he was doing. Sam was content to stay in Emmett’s shadow, the heir apparent, who he looked up to just as much. He spent his year at Blackthorne wrestling with how absolutely unbearable training was, the looks of showing up as some unknown Blackthorne, and a shocking revelation: he was not good at this.

Sam had always excelled at everything he’d tried his hand at, annoyingly so, and it only frustrated him further that the one time he was sure he’d found what he wanted to do with his life, he couldn’t master it on the first try, and had to work twice as hard as everyone else to stay afloat. So much for the Blackthorne blood, he thought, and it came to a head when he heard whispers of what his namesake’s school asked of boys in order to graduate. By the end of the year, he was sure he couldn’t survive and he was not going back.

And that was when news hit that the school’s doors would be closing forever and its sister school Gallagher Academy, would be opening its doors to all genders. The next step was clear to Sam, who didn’t want to give up espionage. Because as grueling as Blackthorne was, and as hard as it was to wrap his head around the fact that he wasn’t naturally gifted at it, he couldn’t imagine ever doing anything else. So, he transferred to Gallagher in 2019, and fell in love with the school immediately.

Ever since, he’s been steadily climbing up his own personal mountain, training hard and trying his best to master what he should have a direct familial line to. Aside from how seriously he takes his schoolwork, he’s still bright and goofy as ever, and Sam knows if he ever loses that side of him, that’s when he won't be able to pursue this any longer. But for now, he’s vibing and thriving!

TLDR - THE FACTS

Sam is a goofy and bright personality, always friendly and always looking to have fun

grew up in Cali with Ingrid to two loving parents in the tech industry

they moved to Virginia when their parents got hired by Reign Tech

he’s a naturally gifted kid who was almost instantly good at everything he tried, though he could never find a passion that motivated him and had no idea what to do with his future

Ingrid says she think their parents are evil masterminds and he instantly believes her, until their parents confess they’re actually just retired spies!

also, surprise, they’re Blackthorne descendants, and their father convinced the Blackthorne side to keep the spy business a secret from his kids

Sam decides this is what he’s meant to do with his life and enrolls in Blackthorne, only to find out this is the one thing he’s not naturally good at

hates his first year at Blackthorne, because the place is a nightmare, being a Blackthorne is not all it’s cracked up to be, and he finds out about the m*rder secret lol

but despite it all, despite espionage being the one thing he can’t immediately excel at, it’s the first thing in his life that he truly feels driven towards and wants to pursue

so when Blackthorne (thankfully) closes, he’s super happy to transfer to Gallagher, and has been loving it there ever since!

he takes his schoolwork and training super seriously, because he’s trying to get better and better every day, but aside from that, he’s laid-back, kind, and vibrant!

CONNECTIONS

Ingrid Song: his baby sister, he’ll do literally anything to see her happy; he’s super supportive of her dreams and passions, and is just a touch worried about her being at Gallagher after the previous year; they have a great and healthy relationship!

Regine Ren: childhood best friend ever since he moved in next door to her; developed a crush on her in their teenage years and they started dating for a good while before they realized they couldn’t work in the long run; still on good terms and he considers her a close friend

i’m down for almost anything pls <3

@gallagherintro

[reachexceedinggrasp]

Fated to Love You here reaffirming my long held conviction that no pure romance drama should be 20+ episodes.

This show is... really something. It is, in the fullest possible sense, A Lot. It starts out as an all-out screwball comedy wrapped around a troperiffic romance fluff plot. Wall to wall clichés, but not in a bad way; in a meta, self-aware, peak performance, finest Velveeta way. And if you’re not familiar with screwball comedy, think ‘light-hearted crack fic with slapstick and farce’. There is nothing believable or grounded about any aspect of it, it starts at Bonkers Level: Platinum and it only climbs higher as it goes on.

(On a side note, this results in the leading man being possibly the most memorable love interest in romcom history. His introduction scene is nothing short of batshit insane and you can't reliably predict how he will respond to anything. I have never seen a main character like this, he is all over the shop and utterly singular. Your first reaction to him is ‘wtf?’, your second and third reactions are ‘really?! this guy??’, your fourth reaction is ‘okay he do be mad hot tho’, your fifth and final reaction is ‘I cannot believe this performance exists, I have no idea what he is doing, but it is amazing.’

Appropriately(?) the actor who plays him is an uncanny Korean doppelgänger of Johnny Depp and- between the resemblance, the mannerisms, and the fearless total commitment to a bold as fuck acting choice with the very serious chops to back it up- I’m not convinced they aren’t half brothers separated at birth.

They do sabotage my happiness several times by starting to randomly style his (long, beautiful) hair very weird, fixing it right when the plot is rapidly circling the drain so he looks his hottest just as the show becomes briefly unwatchable, and then ruining him for the entire second half of the series by shearing it all off. WHY, my anguished cry goes up. Why do you do this?! Why does he have like seven hairstyles over the course of the show? Much later they even briefly give him that ubiquitous Kdrama Second Lead haircut with weirdly forward combed fringe in a solid straight line across the brow all the way back from the crown. It looks terrible on everyone and I hate it so much. This version was less bad than most but it is still bad. Anyway.)

So it’s an incredibly fun time to start but there are some problems with the tone and plot even in the first 9 episodes, including when the lovers start getting along really well right away and they’re both thoroughly decent people so there’s nothing keeping them from having a lovely time together making the best of the circumstances (forced/fake marriage). And, instead of introducing new conflict or advancing one of the dozen conflicts previously established and actually moving forward, there is a painfully contrived rehash of something they already dealt with which is then just never resolved. They make the hero leap to a conclusion his wife is nefarious after he’d already decided once that she isn’t (though it was completely reasonable for him to think she was- the fact that he decided to trust her so quickly just speaks to what kind of person he is), never try to find out more or talk to anyone about it, start pushing her away because of it, and have all this come to absolutely nothing. It only exists so he’ll stop being so incredibly nice to her and they won’t fall in love too fast.

You’d think they would have to eventually clear the air before the romance advances right? No. It wasn’t a real plot point, it was just a reset button to get them estranged and hostile again after they connect over their kindred spirits and we’ve spent a bunch of time showing how profoundly supportive and honourable our hero is. He’s being beautifully mature and selfless because he’s a really good dude (unusual for a romcom drama, right? for the main guy to be nice and considerate? to accept responsibility even if he doesn’t have to? Gun’s weird but he’s wonderful), but the writers need him to be cold and standoffish, so they just make him act like an unreasonable idiot for a while. He’s been thus far hugely proactive and direct and honest about everything, it’s one of his most prominent character traits, but suddenly he’s going to avoid confrontation in favour of being super passive aggressive?? Then the writers never solve it. Never! It just goes away. He got over it, I guess? He decided he doesn’t care if she’s a gold digger who deliberately trapped him? God forbid we have motivations that make sense and organic character drama, right? It's not like he didn't have totally valid reasons to be suspicious that could have led to legitimate conflict our heroine would struggle to vindicate herself from.

But anyway, apart from that kind of lazy bullshit, it’s a fine romance plot with extremely endearing characters who have great chemistry. They are fun and well-rounded and incredibly human despite all the silliness and OTT antics. Their relationship is hugely, hugely engaging and the dynamic is perfect, they really complement each other as characters and organically drive each other's arcs. There's the genuine depth and warmth and quiet pathos so often lacking from this kind of show. Things progress at a semi-reasonable pace. They work up to confessing their mutual feelings and get into some cute shenanigans before making out. It happens soon enough that you are not frustrated, but there's still plenty of build-up. Then- uh oh! We’re only 9 eps in and we have another 11 hours to fill with this fluffy plot!

Time for a bunch of absolute fucking nonsense. Time for our show, which has been so goofy and removed from reality it occasionally resembles a Monty Python skit, which has been so light it asks you to ignore the frankly incredibly fucked up implications of its premise for the sake of comedy (they were both drugged and proxy raped resulting in a pregnancy- the FL was a virgin prior to this and Gun had a girlfriend he wanted to propose to- and it was the FL’s family who did this to them: SUPER FUCKED UP), so farcical that it makes Some Like it Hot look like a gritty crime drama, that show to cover a bunch of serious heavy shit.

First, the rankest of melodrama. The families and the world all turn on our couple, but their love is true and will conquer all- UNTIL, he randomly collapses and gets convenient Soap Opera Amnesia. He’s forgotten their entire relationship and a series of coincidental pieces of misconstrued evidence, the machinations of his scheming ex girlfriend, the Soap Opera Doctor’s advice, and his closest confidants all going along with this conspire to make him believe (AGAIN) that his wife just wants his money.

This whole terrible episode is mercifully brief, but it just gets worse after his memory returns. This is where we get into the Noble Idiocy. The ‘pretend you don’t love them to “save them” from getting hurt by hurting them and making their important life decisions for them as if they don’t have a basic fucking right to decide that themselves’ kind. Which goes on for three FUCK years in the show. He wastes three years of their lives they could have spent together because he’s worried he might die young (in a terrible way) and doesn’t want to put her through that. And, of course, they inevitably get together later, so all he did was make it infinitely worse for her either way. To say nothing of how he thus couldn’t be there for her through the loss of their child. Possibly my most hated fucking trope of all time when done this way.

And, yep, you read that right. This show that has the single most batshit bonkers over the top slapstick I have ever seen in a kdrama, this show has a storyline where the fluffy romcom trope accidental pregnancy ends in massive trauma. Because she was standing around in the street after realising he does remember her (he continued to pretend he had amnesia after his memories came back, it’s all part of the stupid noble idiocy so I glossed over it) and gets hit by a car in the middle of their angst staring.

It is nearly Meet Joe Black levels of hilariously abrupt and incongruous.

so, blah blah, they lose their baby (there’s a very stupid whole thing about her telling everyone to save the baby instead of her- the baby is not far enough along for this to have been remotely viable. She is like 3 months pregnant. They all act like there’s a choice to be made between them and she’s mad at her husband for choosing to save her, but there was NO CHOICE. Either she lives or they both die! ffs I’m so irritated about this) and then he dumps her ~for her own good~~ because he loves her too much to make her go through losing him? So she loses him sooner?? right after their baby died???

Why do people in these stories always think being betrayed and abandoned for no reason and being incredibly angry at someone you love while also not getting to be with them is somehow less painful than making the best of your life together and then losing them against their will? ‘I will make her hate me and then she won’t be sad we broke up/I died!!!!’ is such a fucking galaxy brain take and I despise it with the heat of ten thousand suns. Fuck you, Spider-Man. You aren’t protecting anyone, the villains still know you love MJ and will still use her against you, you clod. Emotionally torturing the person you love is not going to make them not a target because the villains are not as fucking stupid as you two. Anyway.

Amnesia was right where I started fast-forwarding and skipping around (because I couldn’t bear it), but it only goes downhill from there. Maybe I would have toughed out more of the wretched middle part plot twist if they hadn’t cut all the hot guy’s hair off. If I’m going to watch total nonsense tedious melodrama, I need it to at least be pretty. I understand it was a Symbolic Haircut but damnit! Let me have this!

And it ultimately does the thing that kdramas seem obsessed with and which makes me want to claw out my own eyeballs with frustration. There’s a giant time skip, the female lead gets a personality transplant, all narrative momentum is lost, and the characters who eventually (at ENORMOUS length) get together permanently are essentially completely different characters with a completely different dynamic than the couple you were shipping for 90% of the story. It is so FUCKING unsatisfying and it is EVERYWHERE.

Not so much with this one because this one still had a lot of very romantic scenes late in the game, but most that do this, it’s also like all the romance is sucked out of the post-time skip episodes and the ending is a consolation prize instead of a triumphant culmination. Inevitably, the heroine abruptly cools off and is suddenly wary of the hero and wants this Important New Career she never mentioned until the penultimate episode but is now her one true life’s dream. What the apparently irresistible appeal is of these contrived separations and demure conclusions is I CANNOT FATHOM. I’m here for the fucking romance guys, you have not made Citizen Kane, please just indulge me with a big schmoopy finale.

And if not that, it’s frequently that there’s been so many random mood swings and so much shitty behaviour by the end that the relationship doesn’t make sense and you don’t know why they even bother to get back together.

I’m not inherently against all misunderstandings (they are the bread and butter of low stakes romance let’s be real) or attempts at noble idiocy from misguided characters, but the duration and seriousness of the drama these generate needs to be in proportion to how ridiculous they are. If your entire plot can be solved by a thirty second conversation there is NO REASON not to have and the continuation of the misunderstanding is a result of someone just NOT SPEAKING UP when any functional human being would have spoken up seven times by now IT’S BAD.

Do little cliff-hangers, whatever, but don’t draaaaagg out silly misconceptions into Shakespearean tragedy, it’s just wearying. It makes me hate the characters for acting like emotionally constipated toddlers with terminal stupidity. If there is so little trust, so little understanding, and so little basic patience between these people, they probably shouldn’t be dating, so try fucking harder, writers. And noble idiocy that is more than an impulse they fairly quickly see the error of is just insulting. You are not helping the other person, you are being domineering and selfish. I have a whole complex about wasting time and seeing endless parades of characters flushing years down the toilet for literally no reason gives me hives. Especially when the whole issue is about time!

(And, btw, so much of the plot is about how desperately the family needs an heir and everyone still wanting them to have kids the second time they get together- while the ~dilemma used to keep them apart is a GENETIC DISEASE which could STRIKE AT ANY TIME. Do you SEE THE PROBLEM WITH THIS WRITERS????? NO, I KNOW YOU DON’T. ommmmmmmmggggg that’s awful! So they’re just dooming more kids to Soap Opera Brain Disease? And maybe growing up without a father just as Gun did? And no one even considers suggesting adoption??? He never considers that he shouldn’t have biological children despite thinking he shouldn’t have a wife?)

ANYWAY. Please do watch the first nine episodes and the last three, it’s bananas. They are cute as fuck, Gun is The Best, and the tropey romance scenes are top quality. You don't get those things executed so well, it doesn't happen, so you need this in your life. The acting is of a calibre you never usually see in modern romcoms; these are people at the top of their game committing utterly and taking these characters completely seriously. In that way it is pure wish fulfilment for me as someone who loves romance and is almost always disappointed by popular romance media, and thus the show is incalculably special. But skip the middle. Just skip it. It's not worth the suffering. I find the tone whiplash honestly just this side of crass.

I’ve been thinking about it for over a week and I truly love the main characters so it did plenty right, but I just cannot with wedding the two things this show is trying to be together, especially when it goes so hard in two mutually exclusive directions. but also the Meet Joe Black sudden car accident device is not redeemable under any circumstances. Can we never do that again, please.

[rosesgonerogue]

New Year’s Eve

Daminette December Day Thirty-One

Note: This  is a continuation of Day Twelve, Animals, Day Twenty-One, Damian’s Birthday, and Day Twenty-Five, Christmas. 

Damian hadn’t planned on showing up as Robin or doing much of anything until he was more sure of the Paris situation. The whole thing had seemed highly suspect, and he didn’t want to do anything to compromise himself. Besides, a small part of him had been content that spending longer in Paris meant more time he was able to be around Marinette. 

Finding out that she was Ladybug was a game-changer, though. He couldn’t just stand by knowing that Marinette was continuously putting her life on the line because of some deranged butterfly man. 

He fully dedicated himself to finding Hawkmoth’s secret identity after Christmas. He didn’t allow himself to spend time around Marinette, he didn’t go to the humane society… The only time he allowed himself to be derailed from his research was when there was an akuma. He found he couldn’t stop himself from intervening, making sure that Marinette was safe throughout the attacks. 

Robin had first met Ladybug the day after Christmas; it was an excessively large akuma that had thrown a nearby sandbag at her. Unable to keep to himself, Robin had leapt out with his sword, shearing the bag in half in an explosion of dust. 

Marinette had simply looked at him critically before dealing with the akuma swiftly. Before Damian could slip into the shadows she had already caught him with her yo-yo, eyes searching. “Who are you?”

“I’m Robin,” he said flatly. “I was sent by the Justice League.” 

“C’mon, you could have said a little birdy told you we needed help,” Chat Noir complained. 

“How do we know you’re who you say?” Ladybug asked, the yo-yo string tightening slightly. 

“I can show you equipment, recordings, give you information, but I know Hawkmoth can do pretty much anything with his akuma. I don’t know what to tell you other than I’m sorry it’s taken so long for the League to take this seriously, and I am fully dedicated to helping you take down Hawkmoth. However you look at it, it’s going to take a leap of faith for you two.” 

Ladybug and Chat Noir traded looks, communicating with their eyes in a way that only they could. Finally Ladybug nodded, and pinned Damian with those wonderfully blue eyes. “We’ll trust you, but if you’re not who you say, there will be consequences.” 

“Just remember, cats eat birds,” Chat Noir said with a sharp smile before they leapt off the roof in sync. 

This left Damian with a supervillain to unmask. He had begun with several suspicions, and from the very beginning Gabriel Agreste had been the most likely candidate. When the other leads fell through, Damian had focused on the man with a fury, a desperation. 

It had taken a few hours to crack through the man’s firewall, which Damian had to admit was impressive. But of course a ridiculously wealthy man such as Gabriel Agreste was foolhardy enough to have cameras in nearly every room in his house. After perusing some of this footage, it only took a few hours more to find an instance where he messed up, showing the butterfly miraculous in plain sight. 

Getting ahold of Ladybug and Chat Noir was the most difficult part of the process, and then came the convincing. Chat Noir seemed upset about it, but Damian couldn’t find it in himself to care about the cat. The evidence was undeniable, and it would be foolish to let Paris suffer any more than it already had. 

The fight wasn’t a hard one; Hawkmoth and Mayura weren’t used to fighting themselves, and they didn’t have time to find suitable candidates for akumas or sentimonsters. It was practically over as soon as it started, and the young heroes were left stunned. 

“It can’t really be over, can it, My Lady?” 

“I think it is, Chaton. I don’t know how, but it is.” She hesitated a moment longer before saying, “But we’re not done, kitty. I’m leaving you your kwami because there are more serious things in the world to take care of than Hawkmoth and Mayura.”

Chat Noir nodded, still staring out at the city blankly. 

“I also think it’s time for us to know who it is we’re fighting with.”

At that he looked up sharply. “Are you serious?” 

“I wouldn’t joke about this, Chaton. We’re partners, and we should be able to trust one another in the mask and out of it.” 

Damian didn’t know who the blond was, and he didn’t really care. He watched Marinette intently as her eyes filled with tears. “Oh Adrien, I’m so sorry. I wish I had known.” 

The blond smiled sadly. “Now that I think about it, I don’t know anyone else that could have possibly been Ladybug.” 

Marinette offered a small fist. “Pound it?” 

“Pound it.” 

“Take care of yourself, Adrien,” Marinette said. “You are not your father, and I’ll always be here for you. We are still partners, after all.” 

They were startled by the sharp crack of fireworks. Marinette checked her phone, smiling softly. “I forgot it was New Year’s Eve.” 

“I think this year is going to be the best one yet,” Adrien said, dusting himself off. “Don’t worry about me, Marinette. I think I’ll be just fine.” 

She watched her partner leave for a few moments before turning around. “I know you’re still there, Robin.” 

A little embarrassed, Damian stepped out of the shadows. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“You also wanted more information on us to take back to the League. But it’s only fair, after all that you’ve helped us.”

“I… I know who you are, so it’s only fair for you to know who I am,” Damian said instinctively. Father would be furious, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care all that much. 

“You don’t have to-”

“Marinette, I want to,” he said, cutting her off. His fingers shook slightly as he removed his mask, inexplicably afraid of her reaction. 

She just smiled, shaking her head. “I should have known. You’re amazing, Damian.” 

“Not as amazing as you are.” 

“No, I mean it, Damian. You gave me and the entire city a new year of happiness and freedom. I can never thank you enough.” 

“Really, I was just--” 

Marinette halted what he was saying by pressing her lips to his briefly, just a light peck, but it froze Damian where he stood. 

She smiled impishly; she knew exactly what she was doing. “Happy New Year.”

Taglist: @daminette-december2019 @cravethosecrazysquares @krispydefendorpolice @thesunanditsangel @sonif50 @kris-pines04 @persephonebutkore @tbehartoo @corabeth11 @caffeinetheory @drarryismylife101 @bluerosette23 @weird-pale-blonde-person @mystery-5-5 @heaven428 @thethirdwheelfriend @thetinymoonflower @interobanginyourmom @chocolate1721 @akana-sama @skyel0ve @katiegardneriscoolerthanyou

We made it to the last day, and I actually wrote it on time! Thank you to everyone who has made it through this with me, it’s been a fun challenge! Your support is appreciated, and I look forward to bringing you guys a lot more stories in the future. To all of you out there, have a Happy New Year! Let’s bring in this new decade with positivity!