#because the feeling that im alone and hurting others by isolating against my own better judgment is soooo inescapable. yearly.

[yj-98]

. 🧍

#it is repeatedly soulbreaking that without fail i will - every late fall + into winter - just become So Much Worse #every spring + summer ill be marginally better and ill make friends and feel social and like i can DO things #and then without fail i will recede and let people down and its just. i am tired. literally so tired of the cycle #i dont want to sound dramatic and call it ''letting people down'' and ''being a disappointment'' but its so. like i can barely feel human #i do Not have the ability to upkeep social connection and friendships half the year its so fucking pathetic. frankly. #but i like making friends i LIKE people. girl someone get me some counseling and SSRIs or something #ptsd and depression and lack of vitamin D gang. i guess. #because the feeling that im alone and hurting others by isolating against my own better judgment is soooo inescapable. yearly. #like whats the point. im tired of conversations having to start with ''hey sorry i was busy and my brain wants me dead'' #rook.log

[yoonpobs]

with you | ksj | m

marrying your childhood best friend was not the love story that most painted it to be. you knew that better than anyone else.

PAIRING. kim seokjin x reader

GENRE. marriage!au, divorce!au, childhood friends2lovers!au, angst, fluff, smut

WARNINGS. dilf jin, mentions of divorce (it's literally the plot😭), marriage problems, jin is kind of an asshole (who redeems himself!!!-ish), slight jealousy, soft sex, crying during sex, oral (f receiving), bigdick!jin, oc is a crybaby who tries not to cry 99.9% of this fic

WORDS. 22.1k

NOTE. it's here!!!!! I've been working on this fic for a while and im somewhat pleased with how it turned out!!!! i apologise for any errors/edit mistakes bc I run through it on my own so I may overlook some grammar issues etc ...

anywho, I hope you enjoy this fic!!!! as always - my asks are open to let me know how you felt about this fic <3

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“What is this?” he blinks.

“Divorce papers,” you say softly, smoothing out the surface while you avoid his eyes.

“You want,” he says slowly, eyebrows furrowing as he attempts to process your words. “You want a … divorce?”

You hate that he sounds so nonchalant like you weren’t mulling over this decision for the past three months as you found yourself losing hope in your marriage with each passing day. But for as long as you’ve known Jin, he’s always been like this. A little hard to understand, straightforward but never intentionally malicious. He just somehow ended up hurting people without him realising it.

“Yes,” you say.

“What about Jiho?”

The reminder of your son makes your heart drop to the pit of your stomach, but you were prepared for this question. In fact, your son was the only thing that made you hesitate your decision for another month because divorces were messy and even if Jiho was just four years old and probably too young to understand—he was perceptive and you didn’t want to put him through the taxing emotions of having his parents go through a divorce.

But you were exhausted of fighting alone and returning to a home that feels more isolating than welcoming.

“We’ll share custody,” you narrate the exact words you’ve been mulling over for the past few months, even if it breaks your heart to say them.

“What prompted this?” It hurts even more when Jin flips through the papers as he would with any other of his business contracts, and it’s a harsh reminder that your marriage was reaching an invincible expiry date that you wanted to ignore.

“We …” you hesitate, fingers clutching the fabric of your dress as you purse your lips. Was there a reason to justify your decision anymore, when you’ve fought tooth and nail for the past four months to be heard? To be seen as someone who wasn’t just his wife on paper but a person to be nurtured? You force yourself to look ahead, even when Jin raises an eyebrow at your silence. You settle for a soft response instead. “I think it’s for the best.”

Jin opens his mouth to say something but decides against it before he slides the papers towards him, and you half-expect him to sign it and tell you to leave. The thought only makes your heart shatter even more—because four years of marriage, a child—gone, just like that.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he offers you a curt nod with a look you can’t quite decipher.

“I’ll get back to you,” he says.

You blink, especially when he pushes himself off his desk and extends a hand towards you as if he’d expected you to grab it. The gesture doesn’t fit in with the context of the conversation, much less the emotions that thrash wildly in your heart.

“What are you doing?” you whisper.

“Lunch,” he says, “I haven’t had it with you in a while.”

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“That took a while,” Taehyung points out when you clamber back into your office.

“I had lunch,” you respond curtly as you hang your jacket on the coat hanger while you attempt to ease the pressing headache between your temples.

“Alone?” He raises a brow.

“With Jin.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen as you plop onto the empty seat next to him. Your son’s fidgeting in his lap as your assistant types away at his laptop, and you’re absolutely exhausted so you extend your arms towards Jiho, who immediately turns to you with a toothy grin and leaps off Taehyung’s lap.

“Hi baby,” you press a kiss to his cheek, immediately seeking warmth in your son’s chubby body.

“Hi mama,” he returns, pressing a plush cheek into your chest when you squeeze him.

You try to keep your tears at bay, even if it’s just having your son in your arms. He doesn’t know the day you had or the meal you shared with his father. The man you married and decided to have a child with. Jiho doesn’t know that it’s over—and it hurts. It hurts because he deserved a family filled with love.

“How did it go?” Taehyung asks tentatively, swirling in his chair until he’s facing you.

You know he’s concerned. He was probably the person that received the news with the most shock, granted he was currently the only person that knew besides Jin. Taehyung has been your assistant before you relocated to this larger office and before your business set its course, and even when you and Jin were just dating. So, he knows—he knows how hard you’ve tried and when you decided that it was over.

“He didn’t even try,” you croak, eyes fluttering shut as you attempt to level your breathing to not alarm your son, “Just took the papers and said he’d get back to me.”

“He didn’t sign it?” Taehyung asks in slight surprise.

“No,” you murmur, peering down to see your son fiddling with a ribbon that sticks out your dress, “I didn’t want to ask why.”

Taehyung purses his lips before he reaches out to squeeze your available hand. The gesture is enough to remind you of what you just did—the conversation you just had with Jin, and it’s enough for your entire facade to go crumbling again.

But you don’t cry because your son is unaware of the conflict that exists between you and his father, you don’t cry because one of you needed to be strong and it had to be you.

“I’m sorry.” His apology is sincere but frankly, useless. But you don’t tell him that even if that’s all that plagues your mind. You know Taehyung knows this too, but you suppose it’s the best either of you can offer right now.

“Don’t be,” you laugh humourlessly, “You’re not the one that failed in this marriage.”

“You didn’t fail, ____,” he says sternly, “It just—some things don’t work out.”

Your lips wobble again, looking up so your son doesn’t spot your tears.

“I thought we would,” you croak, “I tried. I tried—so hard. But it still wasn’t enough.”

Taehyung stays silent, and your son is mumbling something under his breath. When you peer down, his smile remains innocent and oblivious to the world that’s falling apart right in front of his eyes.

“Mama, look,” he squeals as he lifts up an arm that he’s somehow managed to scribble on, “Mama, daddy, me!”

Taehyung has to take Jiho when you excuse yourself to the bathroom.

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“What do you mean he hasn’t signed it?” You hiss, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you attempt to shove old documents into the shredder.

“He … hasn’t,” Jimin, Jin’s assistant, says lamely over the line as you feel your headache return.

“Jimin, you’re his assistant,” you remind him sternly, “It’s literally your job to make sure he gets shit done.”

“I know!” He exclaims before he’s sighing, “He’s just—he keeps putting it off. I really can’t do much, ____.”

You chuck the last bit of papers aside before you’re grabbing your phone from in-between your ear and shoulders before you’re leaning against a desk, pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation.

It’s been a week since you visited Jin at his office propositioning him with a divorce, yet, the papers remain vacant from his signature that solidified the termination of your legal union. You were more so irritated than hurt right now, purely because you wanted actual documents to present to your lawyer and your parents before you told them that you and Jin were getting a divorce.

It’s also been a week since Jin’s came home, and you’re partly thankful that he did that on his own because that was another painful conversation you weren’t quite ready to have. Not that he came home at an acceptable hour anyway. But it’s almost daunting at how the bed remains cool where he used to lay, even if he’d disappear hours before your awakening.

“Just,” you exhale, “Please get him to sign it, Jimin. I’m tired.”

You can hear some shuffling on the other end and you assume it’s him moving to another place with the way the office chatter gets distinctively quieter the longer time passes.

“Do you,” he starts, “do you really have to do this?”

You sigh, already bracing for his comment.

If Taehyung knew you and Jin before you got married, Jimin was the person that got the two of you together. The instigator that insisted that the feelings and mutual, and that the chance should be taken. You believed him ten years ago when you were younger and in high school, oblivious to what the future held. You wanted to resent him for how things out but you knew it was irrational. You would’ve fallen in love with Jin with or without Jimin’s intervention.

He was that easy to love.

The bitter reminder that the divorce seemed easy for him to accept, even without the signature, plagues your mind as you hear Jimin call your name once more.

“Do you think this was my first option?” you snap, and immediately the silence is tense. “I was backed into a corner, Jimin. There’s no point in Jin and I remaining married if—if nothing about our relationship feels like a marriage anymore.”

“What about Jiho?” he throws back the same question Jin posed at you when you first came to him with the divorce.

You grit your teeth, your heart inevitably clenching at the guilt that’s yet to subside. It only hurt more because you knew Jimin didn’t mean it to hurt you, but it did—it did because it wasn’t easy.

“I’m not taking him away from Jin,” you whisper, “I can’t—I would never do that.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Jimin says softly.

“I know,” you reply, equally as soft as your eyes dart to the ground, “I hate this, Jimin. I do. But I rather Jiho grow up with two parents who aren’t together than two parents who live together but not even talk.”

Jimin stays silent, and you know that he’s heavily contemplating his next set of words.

You beat him to it with a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, “I didn’t mean to unload.”

“Please don’t apologise,” he says, “I just … have you tried speaking to Jin?”

You scoff bitterly at the suggestion, and you know that you shouldn’t be taking it out on Jimin, who’s both Jin’s assistant and your close friend—but the nudge to recall the times you’ve tried, tried so hard to patch things up by planning mini-dates that he rain checked more than enough times for you to want to try again—only leaves you feeling sour.

“He clearly doesn’t mind if he says he’ll get back to me,” you say bitterly.

“Have you considered that maybe he only said that because—”

At that moment, your intercom goes off and you briefly hear Taehyung’s static voice filter through the speaker.

“Hold on, Jimin,” you rush as you put your hand to the speaker to lean forward to press the intercom. “Tae?”

“You have an appointment,” he says slowly, and your eyebrows furrow at his odd tone.

“I do?” You say with a puzzled expression, “I don’t remember scheduling an appointment—”

“Well, this isn’t really an appointment,” he laughs tightly.

“Tae,” you frown, “What are you saying?”

“She’s already—”

And at impeccable timing, a rapt knock is delivered to your door as you further scrunch your eyebrows in confusion.

“Jimin, I need to go. I have a visitor,” you bring the phone back up to your ear as you begin heading towards the door.

“No worries,” he clips, “Take care, okay?” He says softly.

You mumble a word of gratitude before you’re hanging up, hand already reaching out to turn to the knob to greet your guest.

You’re still confused before you come face-to-face with them, but the moment the door opens as you plaster a smile to greet your guest—your grin immediately freezes as you spot the one person that you surely didn’t expect to visit your workplace on a weekend, let alone at all.

“E-Eomeonim,” you stutter, eyes briefing landing on Taehyung’s apologetic expression behind your guest's elegant posture.

“Myeoneuri,” she immediately beams, leaning forward to embrace you into a hug that you’re still too stunned to properly returned, and it’s not until she pulls back with furrowed brows that you return the gesture, still frozen in shock as you lean your head against her shoulder.

“What brings you here?” You ask, forcing a smile at the sudden grant of her presence as you shut the door behind you, immediately guiding her towards the empty couch as you head towards your cupboards to bring out the glasses for drinks.

“Ah,” she laughs, gently and polished as ever as you keep your head-trained over your shoulder to engage in eye contact as you pour her some water, “Can’t I visit my daughter-in-law?”

The term doesn’t fall on deaf ears and you force yourself to laugh, even if you know that the term wouldn’t be applicable for much longer. You feel like a fraud, inviting her into your office and offering her water as if you weren’t over at her son’s office a week ago with papers that would immediately terminate any relationship you had with him—or her. Legally, at least.

She was still your son's grandmother and overall, a lovely person.

You grew up with her right next to your house, being the second mother in your life especially when she used to house you on nights where your parents were out of town as you integrated with her two sons and their antics. She cooked for you and treated you like you were her own daughter. Those things didn’t go away just because you were divorcing Jin.

“Of course,” you smile softly as you pass her a glass with two hands, “It’s nice to see you.”

She chuckles politely before taking a sip and setting the glass onto the table, eyes travelling around your office as she takes in your interior.

She’s been here on a few occasions, but they’ve been sprawled out over the years so there have definitely been some changes from when she last came. She doesn’t visit often—to your office, at least—she never had a reason to. So it’s all the more startling and nerve-wracking when she appeared today, conveniently after you proposed a divorce she’s yet to know about.

“I was thinking about you,” she says softly, peering up through her lashes as you gulp, fingers shaking ever so slightly when you take a sip of your drink yourself.

“You’re always free to visit, eomeonim,” you return politely, bowing your head.

She scoffs playfully, waving you off as she leans backwards into your plush couch.

“Don’t be so stiff with me, ____,” she teases, “I’ve changed your diapers.”

You flush at the reminder, and it’s both in fondness and in relative hurt because your family and hers were tight-knit from the very beginning. Your mother and she were best friends even before the two of you were born, and it’s only natural that their children ended up becoming friends. It was always a running joke that they’d hope you and Jin would fall in love and marry—and when it happened, the both of them were ecstatic.

It wasn’t as if they planned it, but fate worked out funnily sometimes. Even when you dated other people in the midst of unsure feelings in high school, you always found yourself returning to Jin. Whether it be in the form of comfort, or a laugh, or just a shoulder to lean on—you always found yourself on the front of his porch, eagerly waiting for another moment with him.

“I know,” you sigh with a small smile, “It’s crazy how long it’s been.”

“Thirty-two years,” she reminds.

You exhale, remember that you were in fact thirty-two this year. The thought that settles is one that is intrusive and annoying, purely because you couldn’t go a moment without remembering the divorce. Your age is another bitter reminder that you’ve really hit the mark with it, essentially starting over when you and Jin promised each other forever.

You take another sip to keep your tears behind.

“Anyway,” she continues as she rests her eyes on you. Her gaze is concerned and you’re stuttering, wondering if you were that obvious—if your face held all your emotions or if she was just that observant. When she speaks, you brace yourself for the worst. “I’ve been trying to contact that son of mine but he keeps sending me to his darned assistant.”

You relax ever so slightly as your lips twitch in a smile.

“Jiminie?” You ask amusedly.

“When he’s getting in the way of talking to my son, he’s a darned assistant,” she huffs, crossing her arms across her chest as you laugh.

“Even now, they’re inseparable,” you comment mindlessly, remembering all the times they used to get into trouble together in high school.

“For the wrong reasons,” she sighs, “That’s why I’m here, actually.”

You raise a brow, “Oh?”

“Seokjung’s planning on proposing,” she informs with an excited grin as your eyes widen.

“Oh my God,” you breath, equally as pleased to hear the news, “Finally? I’m so happy for him and Ah-reum.”

Your mother-in-law sighs wistfully as she smiles tenderly at you, reaching a hand out to squeeze yours as her eyes turn solemn.

“I am too,” she says softly, “My two son’s—Gosh.”

Your hand stiffens under her touch, but you don’t make an effort to correct her. She looks far too happy and emotional at the thought itself that you don’t have the heart to ruin that dream for her. You swallow the lump in your throat and the visual of the divorce papers that plague your mind as you offer a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Yeah,” you say breathlessly, “I’m really happy for Seokjung.”

She nods, smiling at you before squeezing your hand again.

“I wanted to let you know myself,” she says, “I was meant to tell Jin but clearly, he’s caught up in whatever work he has,” she rolls her eyes before shooting you a pointed stare. “Make sure you make time for each other, even if he’s busy. That boy always drowns himself in work.”

Your face falls for a split second, but you immediately correct it when you realise the look of concern that marks her face.

You know her comment was made in good faith, she had no idea of your impending divorce … did she? But despite her voice mulling slightly under a whisper, you find that your heart betrays your blank face when it clenches. You should’ve made time for each other. Even if he was busy. You tried—and you failed.

“O-Of course,” you say, squeezing her hand in return.

“Make sure that the three of you spend time together,” she says softly, and you’re terrified that she knows when she mentions your son. “A relationship requires constant effort and dedication.”

“Of course,” you swallow, “I will.”

You hate yourself for lying to her, but you hope that she knows that you tried. That you really tried to pick up whatever that was lost—but some things would inevitably remain shattered.

“Tell Jin to take it easy,” she murmurs, “I worry for him sometimes.”

You nod your head mutely, agreeing silently.

“I’m”—she chokes, suddenly teary as your eyes widen in alarm—“I’m really glad that you have each other.”

It’s another blow that you receive, but force yourself to smile through.

“Eomeonim …” you say quietly, the guilt nabbing away at your heart.

She waves you off, laughing softly before she’s swabbing gently under her eyes to rid of the tears. And as always, she remains stunning as ever—the stark features of Jin apparent on her face, and the resemblance only makes your heart clench even further.

“Your mother and I would always joke about having our kids get married,” she reminisces as you smile tightly at her. “We never thought it would actually happen—but you and Jin …” she trails off with a fond smile, “It made sense. Like it was always meant to happen.”

You can’t take it anymore, but you weren’t allowed to pick your battles this time. You swallow the lump in your throat and hold her hand a little tighter as if an apology was worthy enough to be traced into the wrinkles of her palm. For now, this was all you could offer.

“Thank you, eomeonim,” you whisper, and it’s more than just the words she’s said, but how she’s treated you up until now. An apology also rests on your tongue, but that’s for a later date. When you and Jin no longer share the title of married.

“Don’t thank me,” she scoffs, “Thank you for making Jin’s life brighter. For bringing Jiho into this world.”

You swallow.

“Of course,” you smile, “He’s made mine too.”

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“You’re here,” Jimin blinks, opening the door to let you in as you give him a tight smile.

“I wish I wasn’t,” you mutter under your breath as the two of you walk side-by-side down a familiar hall.

“Listen—” he begins but you cut him off, already too tired to engage with him attempting to convince you otherwise on the divorce.

“I really can’t do this right now, Jimin,” you say quietly and he looks at you with an apologetic look that you ignore to save your heart from more tears. “I’m only here because Jin isn’t answering his mother’s damn calls.”

“He’s in the middle of an important business deal,” Jimin says weakly.

“When is he not?” You roll your eyes as you huff, feet clacking against the marble as you turn into a familiar corridor where your eyes rest on the plague with the name of your husband, a name that you’ve welcomed into your life and in your son's name—a name that you’ve grown up with. You push aside the ache in your heart as you reach towards the door to knock. “Listen, I know you’re his best friend and his assistant but … tell him to remember that his job isn’t the only important thing in his life, yeah?”

Jimin doesn’t say anything but waits with you, and you briefly hear the shuffling of feet from the other end. You can tell Jimin wants to say something with the way that he’s impatiently tapping his feet against the ground, and you don’t placate him like you usually do because you know that you weren’t ready to hear whatever he had to say.

“Jin’s—”

The door swings open, and it isn’t Jin that you see. It’s—

“Isa,” you smile tightly.

“____,” she exclaims, immediately trotting over in her heels as she towers over you, arms wrapping you into a hug that you don’t expect. When she pulls away, you see her bright teeth in between her red lips. “You’re glowing! Are you pregnant?”

You shoot her a blank look, and you feel Jimin’s eyes widen.

“I’m not,” you say dryly.

“Oh,” she blinks, “Could’ve sworn you were,” she says off-handedly before she moves out the way, only for Jin to appear behind her with a vacant expression on his face, eyes immediately falling onto your unimpressed figure.

“____?” He furrows his eyebrows, “What are you doing here?”

You push past Isa, who you briefly see from the corner of your eye, press two rather friendly kisses onto your husband—well, soon to be ex-husbands—cheeks. She’s always done that, claiming that it was from her French roots even if you knew deep down that she had the hots for her husband. You don’t want to know why she’s here, appropriately right when you and Jin were in the middle of a divorce. Unless she’s representing him as his lawyer, you didn’t want to humour the thought.

“Your mother says you aren’t answering her,” you don’t spare him another glance, or Jimin, who is all but offering you a timid smile right before he shuts the door to the office, leaving you and Jin alone.

“I’ve been busy,” he replies.

“You couldn’t even just send a damn text to your own mother?” you ask irritatedly as you plop into a seat in front of his desk.

“I had Jimin do it,” he says with a frown.

You roll your eyes, bitter that you had to be here—bitter about the divorce—bitter about gorgeous Isa who just left his office. You were bitter about everything, and now you were here, with your soon-to-be ex-husband.

“Really, Jin,” you deadpan, “You couldn’t even spare two seconds to let your mom know that you were—I don’t know—alive?”

He sighs as if you were pointing out irrational facts and not attempting to get him to do things himself for once. To maintain relationships with people without a damn middleman. You were a victim once, and you sure as hell wouldn’t let his mom suffer the same painful fate as you did.

“It’s been hectic at the office,” he says curtly, “I did eventually get back to her.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, “After she visited me at my office.”

“She visited you?” he furrows his brows.

You roll your eyes, “It doesn’t matter. She told me that your brother is planning on proposing and she’s expecting us to be there at the engagement party.”

“I know,” he sighs, “I don’t think I can make it.”

You still.

“What?”

“The investors planned for a meeting that same week and I—”

“He’s your brother,” you splutter in disbelief, rage slowly assimilating in your blood when Jin shoots you with another blank look that you’ve grown to resent, especially recently.

“I can’t do anything about the investors, ____,” he frowns.

“You’re the CEO!” you balk, “You call the shots. You literally make the rules. He’s getting engaged and you can’t even try to make it?”

His brows turn downwards at your harsh tone, but you were unbothered. The disbelief that marks your face is reflective of how your heart slowly burns in anger, the way that your fists clench by your side. Even now, as you attempt to knock some sense of rationality into Jin—you find yourself exhausted. It’s because—this—is familiar. It’s the same routine you found yourself fighting against, now only applied to his direct family. If you weren’t considered that.

“They’re flying in from the States,” he says pointedly.

“And that matters more than your brother because?” You scoff, narrowing your eyes at him, “Don’t be fucking selfish, Seokjin.”

You don’t think you’ve referred to him as his full name in years. Even before the two of you dated. You always called him Jin because it was more intimate that way. Only business associates that he was professional with called him Seokjin. It was an unspoken rule that Seokjin was the persona he adapted with people that he needed on his side, not people he wanted by his side.

You’re too busy seething to see the way his face drops ever so slightly, but he’s quick to correct himself when he purses his lips at you.

“I’m at crossroads, ____,” he snaps, “On one hand, it’s my brother who I’m going to disappoint, or—it’s the ten investors that are eager on investing in this company. I can’t win—and right now, I need them on my side.”

“I can’t believe that you actually need to choose who’s more important right now,” you laugh humourlessly, eyes meeting his for a split second as you frown. “It’s your family, Seokjin. It’ll always be your family. You choose your family—you—you choose the people you love.”

Your words are venomous and purposeful when you spit at him, immediately pushing yourself off the seat. Your words refer to more than his brother, or his mother. It’s personal—and it hurts. You didn’t want him to see you cry, you don’t think he’d care anyway.

“Wait,” he sighs, following you until he’s at your door, hand blocking you from leaving, “I …”

You turn around, eyes fluttering shut as you even out your breathing. When you open them, it’s intuitive for you to believe that you were able to read him, especially after a decade of being together—but you can’t. Your eyes are blurred with more than just your fatigue, but it’s disappointment too.

“What?” you sigh, “I don’t—I don’t care what you do Seokjin. But just know that when you’re closing whatever damned business deal you have for profits—your family is missing you.”

You turn to leave, not expecting him to do anything further than where you’ve left it at—but his hand reaches for your shoulder to stop you, your body tensing at his touch that you haven’t felt in a long time.

“I’ll,” he begins, nibbling on his lip when you raise a brow at him. It’s the most you’ve gotten out from him in a long time, but it’s not enough for you to read what the hell is going on in his mind. “I’ll be there.”

You roll your eyes, “Whatever. I’ll believe it when I see it happen.”

You go to push his hand off but his grip remains firm on your shoulder as he furrows his brows at you.

“We’ll go together,” he says.

You blink.

“I can go there myself,” you clip back curtly.

“They don’t know,” he blinks, “Right?”

He’s talking about the divorce.

Your body stills under his grip as you scowl.

“Of course they don’t,” you snap, “I won’t do that to your mom,” you say softly, “Not now.”

He doesn’t ask you to elaborate, even when your eyes turn sad as they dart to the floor.

“Then we’ll go together,” he says simply, “It’s easier that way.”

You don’t argue anymore because your mind just recalls the conversation you shared with his mother, the woman who’s simultaneously raised you along with your own mother. The woman you’ve shared fond memories with, and the woman whose heart you were inevitably going to break with the news of the divorce.

“Fine,” you sigh, finally shrugging off his hand as you turn towards the door to finally leave.

The door opens, and you’re already halfway out when his voice interrupts you.

“Your dress,” he says softly.

You stop, turning your head slowly as you raise a brow.

“… my dress?” You look down at your attire and you note that it’s a simple knee-length dress that you’ve had for years. It was strapless, but casual enough for you to wear on a daily basis—and definitely nothing noteworthy about it.

“You wore it during our honeymoon,” he states as your body locks at the mention of the memory.

You don’t even remember if you did—so you can’t confirm whether or not he was pulling your leg. But the look that Jin sends you is … you can’t quite put a word to it but it looks soft. Gentle, almost fond. But it goes as quick as it comes before he’s offering you a small smile.

“I don’t remember,” you say bluntly.

His face remains blank, even if there’s a slight drop at his lips.

“Well,” he clears his throat before he steps out of the way to make space for your departure, “You look beautiful.”

The compliment steals your breath away, not because he’s never said it before but because it’s unexpected. It’s unexpected because you were divorcing him, and you haven’t heard those words leave his lips in a long time—directed to you, at least. You’re breathless because your heart is ramming against your chest, and there’s a painful feeling lingering.

You also remember the woman that’s left his office. You know it’s irrational for you to feel this way when you were the one that suggested the divorce. But it’s only proof at his options, especially when he was … he was him.

It’s hope—but you’re not an idiot to allow yourself to burn twice.

“I,” you croak, shaking your head as you manage a tight nod, “Thank you.”

When you leave, you have to force your tears back—without sparing another glance at Jin. When Jimin passes by you, he knows well enough not to ask.

────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────

“Have you got everything?” Taehyung asks, helping you with the bag filled with Jiho’s things as you snort at his overeagerness of getting you out of the office.

“Yes, Tae, I have,” you say with an amused grin. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you actually cared about my well-being.”

He gasps with a faux sense of offence as he places a hand on his chest, shooting you a look that you roll your eyes at.

“Of course I do!” He pouts, “My boss is getting the break she deserves,” he says before peering down to Jiho, who’s tiredly dozing off in your arms since it was in the wee hours of the morning, “But I’ll definitely miss this one.”

He pokes Jiho softly on the cheek but your son doesn’t even so budge. He’s exhausted, and you were too—but you were more used to staying up late packing last-minute than your son was so you brush his hair gently before placing a soft peck to the crown of his head.

You know Taehyung will miss Jiho, purely because you’ve been at the office more than your home through the past week. You couldn’t bear to return to a space that was void and only had the title of a home when it didn’t feel like it anymore. It was the most difficult explaining to Jiho, who sought his dad’s attention and you couldn’t give it to him. A business trip was the best you got.

“Thank you, by the way,” you smile gratefully at your assistant as the three of you are taken down to the lobby of your office via the lift.

“Don’t,” he says sternly as you giggle softly at his tone, “Thank you for leaving.”

“I knew it,” you narrow your eyes as you stick your tongue out at him. “You’re just happy that I’m gone.”

“It’s four days,” he reminds, “You need a longer break. You’ve been working non-stop.”

You know his jibe is stern despite his light tone, purely because he’s aware of your tendency to ignore your problems by overworking yourself. He’s seen you devote all your energy to reports and analysing data than acknowledge the impending shatter in your heart.

“That’s long enough,” you sigh, “Make sure you—”

“Yes,” he groans as the two of you finally reach the lobby, offering a polite smile toward the receptionist as he returns the gesture. “Did you forget that I’m your assistant? God forbid I’m incompetent.”

You sniff even if you don’t disagree. You didn’t hire him just because he was your friend, but because he’s proven himself over and over again on his capabilities, you needed someone that was lax enough to balance out your perfectionist tendencies but also precise with his work. Taehyung was the perfect mixture of that—so it made sense that he’s stuck with you since you first hired him.

“Call me if you need anything,” you remind as the two of you spot Jin’s car, a sleek range rover fit for the rather long travel. You let out an exhale at the prospect of being in a car with your own husband for the next four hours as you travel out to his family vacation home, but your son needed you—and he needed his dad, so you brace yourself.

“Yes,” he sighs, and you see Jin step out of the car, a t-shirt and sweats combo that you adored him in. You look away.

“Taehyung,” you hear Jin greet your assistant as the two males engage in a rather amicable bro-hug.

“Hey, hyung,” he smiles softly, “How are you?”

You busy yourself with making sure that Jiho’s head doesn’t slip off your shoulders, but you note that your son’s awake this time—sensing the presence of his father as he groggily flutters his eyes open to search for him.

“Could’ve been better,” Jin returns, though not unkindly as his eyes dart towards his son, eyes softening immediately when Jiho calls for him through a mumble.

“Daddy?” He mumbles, immediately shaking out of your grasp as he extends his arms to be held by Jin. You swallow, but you allow Jin to take him from you. He hasn’t seen your son in over a week, and you would never be the person that deprived him from his own blood.

“Jiho,” he whispers, “Tired, bud?”

Your son nods his head, immediately snuggling into the comfort of his father’s chest as you force yourself to look away, distracting your mind as you help Taehyung load your belongings into the boot of Jin’s car.

“Where were you?” Your son asks innocently, “Mama said trip.”

“Yeah,” Jin says breathlessly, eyes meeting yours for a split second as you look away. “Missed you so much.”

“We miss you too,” Jiho pouts, and you don’t correct him when he alludes to you either.

“You okay?” Taehyung whispers, hand clasping your shoulder as you blink away the heat behind your eyelids. It was too early to cry, and you’ve spent the past week crying at random intervals so you were tired of shedding tears.

“I’ll survive,” you smile tightly as Taehyung finally loads the last bag, closing the boot with a button before shuffling back to the curb where Jin continues to cradle your son in his arms.

You’ve known him before you could properly speak, and you intimately recognise the expression on his face. He looks … sad. And it’s the most emotion you’ve seen on his face ever since you approached him with the divorce. You know that the worst part of it all is that Jiho is caught in the crossfire, and what hurts the most is that you didn’t want him to be.

“Thank you,” Jin looks over to Taehyung before he reaches out to give him a semi-awkward hug due to the little boy in his arms. “For taking care of the both of them.”

You almost don’t catch it, but you do despite the hushed tone he takes. Your eyes dart to the ground before you head towards the door to the passenger seat, already too overwhelmed at the break of dawn.

You enter the car, taking a deep breath to even out your breathing and force your tears back. You hated yourself for crying so easily but you knew that it wasn’t just your crybaby tendencies, but it was the pent up emotions that you’ve suppressed for months resurfacing after months of repression. You catch the two men through the side-mirror in a rather intense conversation, though you don’t hear anything of what they’re saying. You know they’re not raising their voices because Jiho finds it peaceful enough to drift off into slumber.

When Taehyung catches your eyes through the side-mirror, he offers you a smile, one that you can’t quite read before he’s patting Jin on the back and giving him one last solemn look.

He’s quick to set Jiho at the backseat, fastening him in the booster seat and placing a soft pillow to support his neck. Your heart both grows fond and tighter when he places a soft kiss on your son’s forehead before carefully shutting the door, quickly entering the driver’s seat as he fastens himself in.

“There’s pineapple juice and gummies, by the way,” Jin breaks the silence as your eyes snap to his figure.

“Oh.”

“I know you don’t like travelling without them,” he mentions while he simultaneously setting up the GPS.

“I—thank you,” you reply softly, eyes dropping to the middle console, and in fact, spotting your favourite brand of pineapple juice and gummies sitting comfortably, waiting for your consumption.

You swallow, deciding against digging in immediately.

“My phone’s already connected to the Bluetooth so you can play any song,” he tells you, “The password’s the same.”

Your breath hitches. His password, the one he’s kept since college even if you’ve berated him for it on multiple occasions because of how predictable it was. Your anniversary date, the day when he first asked you to be his girlfriend. Even after you got married, he never changed it to your wedding anniversary date because he didn’t need to. He was that sentimental, proposing to you on the same day as when he first asked you out.

God, what was he doing to your heart?

You don’t say anything when you reach for his phone, and it’s like the universe is dead-set on reminding you of all the memories you shared with him when you spot the picture at the back of his clear phone case.

A polaroid of the both of you on your wedding night, face smushed with cake as the two of you double over in laughter.

Don’t cry, you tell yourself.

You type in the password when Jin finally ignites the engine, pulling out of the lobby as you finally start your four-hour journey. When you scroll through his phone to find the music app, you’re also surprised to see a familiar playlist.

“You still listen to it?” you find yourself asking, despite your heart clenching again.

Jin looks over his shoulder to catch a glance at his phone that was in your hands to see what you were talking about before he nods.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I don’t really listen to anything else.”

It’s the playlist the two of you made when you were rather drunk one night during your marriage. A random playlist filled with songs that didn’t really go well together, from upbeat tracks to mellow ballads that have your heart weeping and to R&B songs that set the mood.

It’s the millionth time that you swallow your tears, and you know it’s not going to be the last. It’s because it’s been less than twenty minutes back in close vicinity with Jin when you’re reminded that your lives are both so intertwined with one another that every aspect of his and your lives have remainders of your essences. Whether it be the scarf you precariously spotted at the back of the seat you remember leaving, or whether it was the keychain that dangles from his rearview mirror—or the damn playlist.

It was everything, and it hurt that you had to let it go.

You play a song that’s in the middle. Safe. A quiet tune that filters through the speakers as you turn the volume lower so that it wouldn’t startle your son awake.

“If you get tired halfway just let me know and I can take over,” you inform him.

You’re surprised to hear Jin scoff with a shake of his head, though when you turn to look at him, there’s a small smile on his face.

“You’re a terrible driver, so no,” he laughs.

You gasp, squinting your eyes at him.

You’ve gotten … better. Though your better was still debatably worse than the average person, it was progress nevertheless!

“I won’t get us killed,” you hiss at him, pouting as you cross your arms across your chest, “Besides, I don’t trust myself to drive if you’re not around, anyway.”

You don’t realise what you said, or the implications behind it. But you think Jin does when he flicks his eyes over to you, staring softly as you blatantly miss it to continue pouting while you stare forward, grumbling about being a better driver as he can’t take his eyes off of you.

“Don’t worry,” he says so quietly that you almost miss it, “Get some rest. I’ll drive us.”

You open your mouth to argue but the look he gives you makes you clamp your mouth shut in defeat. In all the times you’ve travelled by car with Jin, you don’t think you’ve ever driven the both of you, or even when Jiho became an addition to the family, because Jin was always so insistent on doing the heavy loaded things.

It was something that both annoyed you, but you were grateful for. You knew when Jin offered to do stereotypically husband things such as carrying the groceries, building furniture or driving you everywhere—it never came from a place where he believed you couldn’t do it. He knew you could because whenever he wasn’t around you did those things yourself, and dare you say, even better than him (with the exception of the driving). It was because he wanted to do these things for you, to have you worry about nothing but just yourself, him and Jiho.

The thoughts plague your mind, and suddenly everything is bitter again. You almost deluded yourself into thinking that things were normal and this was a normal family trip. But it wasn’t. Because you were inevitably going to get divorced, once he signed those papers.

“Hey, Jin?” you call.

He hums noncommittally as you fiddle with your fingers.

“When are you going to sign the papers?”

The question stills in the tense air, and you don’t catch the way his shoulders lock into position at your question.

“Soon,” he says curtly.

You nod your head slowly, eyes drifting out the window as you keep your sigh to yourself.

Yeah, it’d be over soon.

────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────

“You’re going the wrong way.”

“I’m literally following the GPS,” he says dryly.

“Then the GPS is wrong,” you snap, “The service is horrible here—god—make a left.”

“I’m not going to be listening to a person who gets mixed up with East and West,” he deadpans.

“That was like—ages ago! I’ve changed!”

“Not taking the chance,” he snorts, going against your very orders of turning left as he makes a right, shooting you a smug look over his shoulder as you glare at him.

“Pull over, I’m driving because I clearly don’t remember taking this road the last time.”

“Roads change, ____,” he groans, “Infrastructure and public goods! It’s government-funded so our tax money damn well better be used for good.”

“Still,” you say petulantly, “You’ve been driving the entire time—it’s time to switch.”

“I never agreed to that,” he says pointedly as you hear your son humming along to the song, giggling every once in a while when you’d get particularly frustrated with Jin.

“You’re going to cramp,” you say.

“I won’t,” he sighs before looking over to you, then into your lap where the gummies lay. “How about you feed me instead?”

You still at the suggestion, the rather intimate one in fact. Though you’ve done this a million times before, bickering during road trips and feeding him—it feels different now. But you know your son is watching, even if he doesn’t understand the severity of the situation, and you didn’t want to throw him off.

“Keep your eyes on the road,” you grumble before pouring out some gummies into your hand and shoving it towards him.

His eyes briefly cast downwards before ignoring your hand, eyes returning to the road as you gawk at his blatant dismissal.

“Um, hello?” you say in disbelief, “Gummies?”

You wiggle your hand in front of his face but he’s still ignoring you, a somewhat smug expression on his face as you scowl even further.

“Do you want gummies or not?” You snap.

“I do,” he shrugs, “I asked you to feed me, didn’t I?”

You give him a bland look.

“They’re literally right there.”

“You know what feeding means, right?” he sighs dramatically, “You do that with Jiho. You know—feeding someone. Putting food in their mouth.”

“I’ll put something in your mouth all right,” you grit as he grins, “My fist.”

“Please,” he whines as you roll your eyes, “My hands are on the steering wheel. You’re always telling me to keep two hands on the wheel yet you’re making me feed myself?” He pouts and you can’t believe this is a thirty-five-year-old man that’s speaking. “That hardly seems—”

You’ve had enough of his complaints as you begrudgingly smack your hand towards his mouth, effectively feeding him a gummy as he nearly chokes while his eyes bulge out of his sockets.

“Ow!—what the f—?” you glare at him at his near slip up as he clears his throat, “That hurt.”

“Oh, really,” you hum blandly, “Would you like another?” You smile plastically at him as he pouts.

“Yes please, but spare my lips,” he mutters.

You roll your eyes but listen to him anyway. You didn’t want to startle him into swerving off the road so you feed him the next gummy gentler. But you’ve underestimated Jin’s ability to be exasperating as he ends up biting your finger in retaliation for your previous stunt.

“Ow!” you hiss, glaring at him as you go to flick his forehead.

All he does is snicker, even if he does manage to dodge your finger.

“Revenge,” he says childishly, sticking a tongue out at you.

“You’re so annoying,” you seethe.

“You love it,” he smiles over his shoulder—and you freeze.

He realises what he’s said only when he spots your frozen expression. He’s about to rectify the mistake and dissipate the tension that arose, but your son is intercepting before Jin can make the shot.

“Love!” he giggles, innocent and childlike, “Love mama and daddy.”

Your eyes filter to the back as you see your son giggling, cheeks bulged as he smiles widely at you. For a split second, you’re reminded of Jin when he was a toddler, with puffy cheeks and a cheeky grin as your eyes soften at him. He really did look like Jin, much to your initial disappointment when he looked more like Jin’s child than your own. Even if your parents and in-laws said that Jiho had your eyes.

“Love you, bubs,” you coo, reaching out to squeeze his chubby fingers as he smiles wider.

“Love you,” Jin replies as well, eyes soft when he catches his son’s expression through the rearview mirror.

“Say it!” he babbles, huffing as you raise a brow.

“Love you, Jiho—”

“No no no,” he harrumphs, cutely folding his arms across his chest as you attempt to figure out what his toddler mind was getting at. “Each other—mama and daddy.”

You get it soon enough, and your expression drops completely as you feel the anxiety rise in your throat.

You were getting a divorce. Your son had no idea. He asked you to declare your love to Jin. Why did you feel oddly targeted right now, by a four-year-old, no less!

“Jiho—” you laugh, attempting to distract him but your son is persistent.

“Mama,” he scolds with a frown and you curse yourself for giving him the one trait of your own that you couldn’t bear to deal with yourself, “Say.”

You glance over to Jin who’s already giving you a passing look, a rather earnest expression marring his face as you clear your throat. Suddenly, everything’s more intense, and all you can see is his face. There was a time where the two of you abused your I love you’s that it was the first thing you heard in the morning and the last thing you heard at night. So why was it so difficult now? Why was it difficult to tell a little white lie in front of your son?

Perhaps it’s because the love never disappeared, from your end at least. And maybe that’s why all of this is all the more painful.

Before your son can throw a tantrum at your silence, Jin is reaching over the console to grasp your hand in his in a familiar manner as he brings your knuckle up to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to it.

When your head turns to him with your eyes wide in shock, he doesn’t break eye contact even as you’re about to yell at him for not looking at the road.

“Love you,” he whispers, and you don’t know if Jiho had even heard it with how soft he’s said it, but you think he does because he stops whining.

All you can do is stare at him, especially at how earnestly the confession leaves his lips. But you remember that it’s fruitless to keep hope, to have your heart flutter at his low voice—because the divorce papers existed, and it’s the first time in a while that you’ve heard it, and it was only because your son demanded so.

You pull your hand away, albeit roughly as your eyes dart out the window to distract yourself, to suck up the tears again.

You’re looking away quick enough that you don’t catch the crestfallen expression on Jin’s face.

────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────

“Jiho-yah,” Jin’s mother immediately runs up to your son rather than greet you or Jin as your son excitedly receives the hug, squeezing into his grandmother’s arms as he lifts him up.

“Halmeoni,” he giggles, “Miss you!”

Your face softens as you see the way Jin’s mother presses wet smooches on both of your son’s cheeks, accompanied slowly by your father-in-law, who’s far more mellowed down than his wife, as he greets you with a wide grin.

“Is this a way to greet your father-in-law?” He jokes when you simply smile at him as you roll your eyes at his light jibe.

“Come here,” you sigh playfully, opening your arms to embrace him as you feel the comfort of a familiar father figure.

“Yes, let’s ignore your actual son, right?” Jin snorts, huffing as he lugs your belongings onto the porch.

His mother’s ears perk up as she shoots him a stern glare that still doesn’t fail to have him cowering. Mother’s really are terrifying when they wanted to be.

“At least she responds to messages,” his mother narrows her eyes at him as Jin smiles meekly in response, probably regretting his words, “I know you’re grown but I’m still your mother—I’ll take you out of that damned company and put you under house arrest."

“Mom,” he exasperates, ears flushed as you snicker at him.

“House arrest?” Jiho repeats, confused.

You pick him up before pressing a kiss in between his brows to soothe the furrow.

“Daddy’s being dumb,” you explain.

“Gang up on me, all right,” Jin snorts, already heading towards the door to bring your stuff in.

His father pats him on the back before shooting him a pointed look.

“A word of advice son,” he murmurs with a low voice, “you’re never right. Your wife is.”

Jin sighs, and you can’t help the amused grin that makes its way onto your face. Even if he had referred to you as his wife—and you knew that it wouldn’t be the case for long, it feels nice to be with them again, even if your utopia would eventually get destroyed.

“The guest room on the second floor is for the kids,” his mother informs, “Jin’s cousins are bringing their children along as well so Jiho won’t be alone.”

You smile gratefully towards her as you guide Jiho towards the home, while the rest of them follow slowly behind.

When you enter, you’re immediately greeted by Jin’s older brother, another familiar figure that you’re grinning widely at as he enthusiastically extends his arms that you immediately jump into.

Jiho’s following close by, tiny figure wrapping around his uncle’s legs as Seokjung picks the little one up with ease.

“Ah, my favourite sister,” he coos playfully, pinching your cheek as you roll your eyes.

“Your only sister,” you correct pointedly.

He’s always referred to you as his sister, even before you married Jin—purely because he was there for you like an older brother was. Since he was two years older than Jin, meaning he was five years older than you, he always looked out for you and took care of you when you were children—and you were immensely grateful for that.

“Semantics,” he waves you off before pressing a kiss to Jiho’s cheek, “Missed you, buddy.”

“You too samchon,” Jiho quips back cheerfully, “Noona?”

He’s referring to Ah-reum, and Seokjung only grins wider.

“She’s coming in two days,” he informs in a hushed whisper, “I’m going to propose to her.”

Jiho tilts his head to the side cutely in confusion.

“Pro-propose?” He mumbles as you laugh softly, patting his head in fondness.

“I want to marry noona,” he whispers with a wink.

“Like—mama? Daddy?” he gasps.

“Like mama and daddy,” Seokjung nods as you swallow.

You look away, feeling like a fraud, especially when at that very moment, Jin brushes up against you with a gentle hand to the small of your back that you flinch at. The look he sends you is concerned, but you know it’s because of what his brother had said. Of course, it was, it couldn’t be anything else.

“Come Jiho,” you say softly, “Let’s get you into your room, yeah?”

He nods eagerly before you’re shooting Seokjung an apologetic smile.

“Hey,” he calls right as you turn, Jin close by your side. “Are you … are you okay?”

The question makes you freeze for a moment as you attempt to school your face and power through the grimace that almost appears.

“Of course,” you clip, “Don’t worry about me. You’ve got a girlfriend to propose to,” you say through a tight smile before squeezing his shoulder before you’re turning on your heel, face immediately dropping.

Jin almost chases after you, but he decides against it when you distract yourself by fiddling with the hem of your son’s pants. It was a habit of yours, finding solace in your son because he’d never do you or anyone wrong, though you could’ve been biased because you played a part in creating him and pushing him out of your vagina.

He wouldn’t do you wrong, you think as he mumbles about marriage under his breath. You really wished he wasn’t so curious.

────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────

“I forgot how big your family was,” you say a little breathlessly as you escape the fifth aunt of the hour asking about your life and work. That was fine, small talk was okay. Not asking when baby number two was coming along when you were divorcing their precious nephew.

“Sorry,” Jin winces, moving over so that you could plop onto the rattan chair, “it gets bigger every year because of the kids.”

You know that’s true because, for some reason, Jin’s family was as fertile as a fertility clinic. You were sure that they could single-handedly repopulate the human species if Thanos really did snap half the universe away. It’s also probably the reason why Jin managed to get you pregnant three months into your marriage, four years ago.

“Jiho’s trying to break up an argument between the twins,” you sigh when you tilt your head ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of your son helplessly standing in the middle of two older kids as they banter back and forth. Your son was too sweet for his own good, but it was also way too amusing to see his eyebrows furrow as he attempts to get their attention.

“Maybe we should tell our son to not waste his time doing impossible things,” he snorts.

“It’s good character development,” you reason, “It’ll teach him to acknowledge his potential.”

Jin shoots you a dry look before turning his head to the scene where the twins were now tugging at each other’s locks like they were in the tug of war as your son can only watch the scene unfold. You really should tell him that that wasn’t how you resolved conflict, even if their parents humourlessly stand by and allow it to happen.

“I’m not giving our son ammunition for his villain origin story,” he scoffs, “I’m going there—”

“Relax,” you stop him from moving any further with a gentle hand to his bicep out of habit, even if your brain stutters for a split second as you clear your throat, “Your mom’s got him.”

As you’d also like to call her, the heroine of the day, Jin’s mother picks up her grandson before cooing something that you can’t hear from how far you are. You’re thankful when she makes eye contact with you, offering a wink before she’s showing him off to her family members.

The sight makes your heart fond because everyone seemed to love Jiho, you really don’t blame them. You fell in love with Jiho before he was born and you would love him until you didn’t know love anymore. You never knew that being a mother would be this monumental for you, in fact, you never knew if you wanted children anyway.

But when things were … brighter. Jin was the only reason you needed. Then, you wouldn’t have wanted to do this parenting thing with anyone else. The bitter thought of co-parenting plagues your mind and the anxiety of attempting to explain the situation to your son doesn’t ease your nerves at all. Even thinking about telling Jin’s family has you feeling nauseous—you were the real villain. The heartbreaker of it all.

“It’s been a while,” he says, snapping you out of your thoughts as you blink up at him.

“Sorry?”

“It’s been a while since we,” he looks down to his cup before throwing back the last bit of orange juice in it, “Since we had a vacation.”

You snort, “I’d hardly call this a vacation. There are screaming kids and your brother is having ten mental breakdowns a day before the actual proposal.”

“I mean, I guess,” he shrugs, “We just haven’t had the time—to take one. This is nice.”

You don’t know what he’s implying but you know it makes your heart clench at the insinuation. You almost wanted to bitterly add that you tried to make time despite your own busy schedule. It was him that put it off. It was him that didn’t have the time.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, too tired to fight, “It is.”

“Why”—he hesitates for a second as his eyebrows furrow while you raise a brow at the sudden jerk of his tone—“why did you suggest—?”

“Jin?”

Your head turns, and you recognise the voice before you see the approaching figure and you already feel sick to your stomach. Not because you knew what Jin was going to say before he was cut off, but because of the person that comes into your vision. You should’ve seen it coming, really, because this was Seokjung’s engagement party and it wouldn’t make sense if—

“Chahee?” Jin greets in confusion before he’s being pulled into a tight embrace.

“Don’t be a stranger,” she whines, “Weren’t you going to come to say hi?”

Your jaw ticks as you look away from the scene before you.

When there was you and Jin, there was also Chahee and Jin. They’ve never dated, though you knew that if the opportunity presented itself, she’d be the first person up in line anyway. But with every relationship, also came with relationship troubles and unfortunately for you, Chahee was the instigator for most of your relationship insecurities with Jin.

It’s because you weren’t the only person that was a constant in Jin’s life—she was too.

Of course, she’d be here, and of course, she’d still look at Jin with a determination to make him hers. Even if you’re here, face blank as you wait and see if she’d actually acknowledge you this time.

“I,” he swallows, eyes darting to you, fully aware of what her presence implies. But your head is trained to the side, pointedly ignoring it for the sake of your sanity. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

She scoffs as if he’s said something absurd, which in retrospect, he did—because clearly, she’d be here. Where he goes, she’ll try her best to be there.

“Of course, I am!” She chirps, “It’s Seokjung’s big day—and besides, I missed you.”

You nearly roll your eyes to the back of your head and the audacity of this fucking chick. Sure, you were divorcing him, but to everyone else—you were his wife. And you were very much still together, even if it felt like it’s ended months ago.

“It’s good to see you,” he smiles politely, not making much effort to pull away when she rubs at the back of his neck. You’d clock her if you weren’t civilised, but instead, you take a sip of your drink and hope it doesn’t end up in her face.

“You too,” she smiles flirtatiously before she decides to finally acknowledge you. You think it’s a new record. “____, you’re here.”

She sounds much less enthusiastic than before, and you don’t blame her—nor do you plaster a smile on your face. Instead, you tilt the drink up to her and nod your head, giving her a less than a satisfactory greeting. You couldn’t even bother clarifying the obvious because you were Seokjung’s sister-in-law, Jin’s wife; and the mother to the adorable boy who’s currently stealing the show. Silence was a pettier option.

Her fake smile drops when she realises that you weren’t bothered, and you’re glad she doesn’t attempt to be plastic with you anymore when you’re fully aware that she’d sleep with Jin if given the chance.

“What’s up with her?” You hear her mutter to him as you roll your eyes, pushing yourself up to leave the two of them alone.

Alarmed, Jin hastily grabs your arm before you can leave, “She’s—uh, not feeling well.”

“I’m feeling—”

“Acting up at a family event?” Chahee scoffs. You would seriously slap her.

“Listen—” you sigh.

“Pregnancy,” Jin blurts as you nearly stumble from how flabbergasted you are, “You know hormones—not easy.”

You would seriously slap him too.

“You’re … pregnant?” she says slowly, jaw slackening as you see her eyes darken.

“Don’t listen—”

“We need to get you indoors,” Jin smiles tightly, “The sun—yeah. Not good for the baby.”

Before you can even get another word in, Jin’s dragging you into the house as you yelp, spotting the last glare that Chahee sends you before she’s downing the alcoholic beverage in one-go and stomping off somewhere.

When you’re settled into a private corner in the kitchen, only then do you yank away your arm from Jin with a menacing glare.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you snap.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he sighs, “She was—she’s crazy.”

“And you had to be crazy too?” you ask incredulously, “How the fuck would telling her that I’m pregnant solve anything?”

“It’s to get her to back off!” he hisses.

“If a baby would get her to back off then she would’ve done that when I was pregnant with Jiho,” you say dryly.

“I panicked, okay,” he exasperates.

You scowl.

“Well fix it,” you snap, “We’re getting divorced, Jin. Chahee’s going to run her mouth and if it gets to any of your family members then there’s no way we can break our split to them.”

You sound much more bitter than you’d anticipated, but who would sound neutral or happy when speaking about a divorce? With someone you still cared deeply about, no less. But you’re slightly surprised when you see Jin’s face harden at the reminder.

“Is that what you care about?” he blinks.

You give him a weird look before sighing, turning your back to him as you find yourself a glass to pour some water.

“Jin, it’s due time,” you sigh, “I don’t want to make this harder for your family—”

“For them,” he laughs humourlessly, “You’re thinking about how the divorce is going to be hard for them.”

You blink at his sharp tone.

“… yes?” you say slowly, “We grew up together, Jin. Obviously the divorce would crush them.”

“You”—he blinks—“you’re thinking about them but you didn’t for one second to wonder how I felt?”

You freeze.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah,” he exhales with a tight chuckle, “You really decided that it was over by yourself, didn’t you?”

You don’t appreciate his tone, nor do you appreciate the accusation. Not when you’ve spent literal months and sleepless nights agonising over your decision while you mulled every possible solution, crying over the demise and when you finally decided to take that step forward. You don’t appreciate it—especially when you did your best.

“You didn’t say anything!” you seethe. “You never say anything! You took the damn papers and flipped through to them like it was one of your business contracts.” “How did you expect me to react?” he exclaims, throwing his hands into the air as his voice raises. “I was caught off-guard!"

You scoff, “Really? That’s your excuse?” You narrow your eyes at him as you jab a finger into his chest. “Don’t give me shit for not considering how you felt when you’ve given me no indication that you gave a shit about this marriage at all.”

“Of course I give a shit about this marriage!” He says in disbelief.

“Do you, Seokjin?” you say bitterly, and the name returns along with the drop in his expression. “You don’t. I don’t know what you feel about anything anymore. It’s stopped being a marriage a long time ago. The divorce would’ve come either way.” You finish in a whisper.

“And you decided that for us?” ye snaps.

“Yes, Seokjin, I did,” you sneer, “I decided for us because we don’t even talk anymore. Every time I try to reach out to you—I took ten steps backwards from where I started and I can’t do this anymore. I can’t continue feeling like a placeholder in this marriage instead of your wife.”

“You’re not—” his eyes soften as he reaches out to you while you flinch, eyes darting to the ground.

“Don’t,” you whisper harshly, “Don’t you dare comfort me now, Kim Seokjin. Not when it took the actual divorce for you to be apologetic.”

The kitchen is silent, and it’s deafening, especially when the outside chatter filters in through the slips of the divider. You know they can’t see you through the tinted windows, but it’s a stark contrast with how people are outside laughing while your marriage falls apart under the same roof.

“So that’s it?” he says softly, “Ten years of dating and four years of marriage?”

“Don’t you dare,” you repeat again, weaker, “I wanted this to work out more than anyone else.”

“Then why aren’t you fighting,” he hisses, stepping closer as he attempts to get you to look at him.

You can’t.

“I’ve been fighting,” you return vehemently, though your resolve is weak at best. “I’ve been fighting on my own for the past four months to save this marriage and you—you just …” your eyes flutter shut as you feel the first tear fall. You don’t want to look at him. “You didn’t fight, Seokjin. You were the one that did this to us.”

“____,” he calls your name.

You step away, furiously swiping under your eyes as you attempt to keep the last few bits of your tears back.

“No more burdens, Seokjin,” you smile sadly, “Stop making this harder than it has to be and sign the papers.”

“I—”

“You should go look for Chahee,” you say softly, and you know your words are purposeful with its double-meaning.

You’re already excusing yourself to your room, the godforsaken room you were forced to share with Jin before you catch the way his face drops completely.

────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────

It’s been radio silent between you and Jin ever since your conversation from yesterday, and you’re both thankful and frustrated. It’s proven difficult to maintain an amicable distance from him when you were meant to be in love and married, along with your son who’s none the wiser.

Seokjung’s nervously pacing back and forth in the living room, but it’s not because of how large his family is—or that he has an audience to please with his grand show. It’s the prospect of proposing to Ah-reum, even if he was madly in love with her.

Right now, he’s not listening to anyone, even his own mother, the same person that would play the level-headed role in situations like these. It’s almost concerning when he mutters incoherencies under his breath, a slip-of the tongue that revealed his fear and desire to leave.

Your eyes widen as you walk towards the anxious man, leaving Jiho with your father-in-law who only smiles at you gratefully.

“Hey,” you say softly, reaching out to clasp his shoulder as he nearly stumbles from being startled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” he exhales, rubbing a hand across his face before his eyes are nervously darting towards the door where Ah-reum could enter at any moment, according to his cousin, “God—I’m going to puke."

“You’re okay,” you reassure him gently, eyes searching for his as he nearly doubles over in anxiety, “You’re good.”

“Am I?” he chokes, “God, I haven’t felt this nervous ever since I had to submit my Master’s thesis.”

You snort, even if you pat his back affectionately.

“It’s normal to feel nervous,” you promise.

“Is it?” he says softly, “I love her—I do. But … but why does this feel so scary?”

You give him a small smile while he peers up at you with panicked eyes. Despite him being relatively older than you were, he looked very much like his younger self right now. Nerves and wide-eyes as he contemplates a decision that would very much change the course of his life.

“It’s because you love her you’re scared,” you explain, “Change will always feel scary, and proposing to Ah-reum is a huge change in your life. Nothing will make this easier, but it doesn’t mean it isn’t worth it. Once you overcome that initial barrier, you’re going to thank yourself for taking that leap of faith.”

He groans, cradling his face into his hands as your eyes widen alarm, afraid if you said the wrong thing.

“You know,” he says suddenly, eyes darting up, “It’s a little reassuring to know that Jin went through this before I did.”

At the mention of his brother, your hand tenses on his shoulder—but you don’t think he notices. Or at least you hope he doesn’t.

“Way to throw your brother under the bus,” you chuckle.

“No, really,” he snorts, shaking his head fondly as if he was recalling those days. “You know, at first I thought it was too early for him to be proposing.”

Your eyes widen at the new set of information.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he says breathlessly, “Don’t tell him I told you that, though. He’d kill me,” he says in a low whisper as you laugh, a little sadly purely because he didn’t have to worry about that. You weren’t even talking to Jin. “I knew the two of you were endgame—but getting married? That’s next-level commitment.”

“I mean,” you say bashfully, eyes darting to the ground.

“But now, looking back …” he trails off wistfully, “It made sense.”

He’s the second person who’s told you that within the span of the past week and you’re left more conflicted than ever. His words came during a time where you were contemplating on splitting up with Jin, so you have no idea what to feel, especially when you’ve convinced yourself that the divorce was the decision that made sense.

“Everyone keeps saying that,” you mumble.

Seokjung snorts, “Because it’s true. You ground each other, you know?” He murmurs with a smile, “I mean more so you to him,” he finishes as you giggle at his hushed whisper.

“I’m clearly the more level-headed one,” you say jokingly with a small smile.

“Yeah,” he agrees easily as the two of you share a laugh. “Early or late, the two of you are meant for each other.”

You ignore the way your heart pangs, the reminder that you once thought that was the case too until reality hit you hard.

“Maybe we did get married too early,” you mention quietly.

Seokjung raises a brow at your statement, and you realise the little slip-up too late as you purse your lips in a moment of panic.

“Are the two of you okay?” he asks with a concerned gaze, taking your hand into his.

You let out a shaky breath before smiling at him, the gesture not quite reaching your eyes.

“Don’t worry about us,” you tell him, “It’s your day.”

He frowns.

“Yeah, but you’re my sister and he’s my—”

“I’m fine,” you say curtly, realising your tone as his face drops before you sigh. “I—I am, really. Please don’t worry about us, okay? You’ve got a girlfriend to propose to.”

You nudge him on the shoulder to cock your head towards the door where you see his aunt frantically waving her arms, indicating that Ah-reum was near, and all retort that was about to leave his lips dies on his tongue as his eyes widen while he vigorously pats down his pants to search for the ring.

“God—fuck, shit godamnit,” he curses, fumbling ever so slightly as you giggle, squeezing his shoulder one last time before you’re shooting him a thumbs up along with a cheeky grin.

Good luck, you mouth—but he doesn’t see it.

The door opens and Ah-reum enters; Seokjung cries before he can get the words out but she knows. She knows because they’re in love.

You suppose love makes you know things. You look away because you’re starting to cry too, and when you do—you search for Jin on instinct, but he’s already looking at you.

────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────

“Did daddy cry when proposing to mama?” Jiho asks Jin innocently when you’re close enough to catch it.

“No,” Jin says honestly, brushing a stray hair away from his face as Jiho snuggles into his chest. His sigh is clear as day. “Was too happy to cry."

────────────── ⋆✩⋆ ──────────────

“Hey,” you whisper, nudging Jin with your knuckles as he stirs in his sleep, groggily fluttering his eyes open as you shoot him an apologetic smile.

“____?”

“Your back,” you say quietly, “Sleep on the bed.”

“But—”

“I’m not sleeping yet,” you say before your eyes are darting to anywhere but the face you yearn to hold. “Just … please. It’d make me feel a lot better if you were sleeping on your own bed than on this couch.”

He doesn’t argue with you, likely too exhausted from the events of the day to find it in him to challenge you like usual. You’re thankful for the sense of normalcy, even if you’re still tiptoeing around him. Even if the remnants of your conversation is the reason why you’ve encountered yet another sleepless night.

You don’t tell him this because it’s been months since you’ve confided him. Telling him what was bothering you didn’t fit in the context of your situation right now, and besides—he was too tired. He needed to drive.

Jin stumbles off the couch and you’re grateful that the room you were sharing had a couch inside, to begin with. You had no idea how to explain the fact that you and your husband weren’t sharing a bed to your in-laws, and you didn’t want to. It saved the hassle.

(Even if he’d take a part of you to sleep every night when he rests his head against the throw pillow than on the bed.)

He shuffles into the room, quietly shutting the door behind him to not wake anyone else up. The kids' room was a good distance away, but some of them had really acute hearing and he likely didn’t want to risk that. You didn’t need to spend another half an hour trying to get Jiho to sleep.

You sigh deeply, brushing a hand through your hair as your feet takes you towards the second-floor kitchen (and yes, Jin’s family was that wealthy to have a kitchen attached to each floor) as you prepare yourself a cup of hot milk. It’s a drink you’ve made over and over throughout the years, the same brand of carton milk always remains in the fridge—and you knew it was about the Kim’s had relatively picky eating habits.

It’s different this time because you’re making one instead of two, a lone cup that’s usually accompanied by another makes you sadder. It makes your heart hurt all over again and you’re exhausted. You’re drained but you can’t sleep because your body remains active due to the way that your mind runs miles.

You focus on the milk because maybe it’ll hurt less when you don’t think. But it doesn’t—because the stupid fucking milk only reminds you of him. The man in his room, snoozing away while you lose sleep all over again.

You’re momentarily absorbed in the way that the residue from the milk swirls in the cup to notice or hear the shuffling of feet beside you, but it’s too late because when you turn you nearly scream.

“Sorry.”

You’re surprised to see Jin’s mother standing there as you place a hand to your chest to ease your racing heart.

“I nearly screamed,” you confess, shaking your head as she smiles apologetically at you.

“I tend to do that,” she says, “My husband’s always telling me I move like I’m avoiding a footprint.”

You laugh at that, not disagreeing as you mindlessly stir your drink.

“It’s late, eomeonim,” you say with a concerned look, “Is everything okay?”

She gives you a kind smile before she looks over her shoulder.

“Heard something in the kitchen and woke up,” she tells you as your face grimaces in embarrassment, “Shall we head to the office to talk?”

You nod your head mutely, unsure on why she’s decided to stay away even if it nearly approaches two am, but you don’t argue with her. Instead, she guides you towards the study, a comfortable room where you can speak freely without worrying too much about waking others. Your thoughts run a lot more liberally in here, despite the ache in your chest.

You take a seat on the couch, noting that it’s changed. You haven’t been here in a while, yet it remained homey with a much-needed replacement.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly, “I’m sorry I woke you up.”

She waves you off.

“I couldn’t sleep anyway,” she says.

Your eyebrows furrow in concern. “Is there something wrong?”

She sighs, staring wistfully to the side as you see her throat move as she swallows. The longer the silence ensues, the antsier you grew. Was she okay? Did something happen to her? Is she—?

“You and Jin are getting a divorce.”

You nearly drop your glass as you spill some of the contents on your t-shirt, hissing at the stain. But you can’t even be bothered to reach for a tissue to clean at it when you’re looking up with a horrified expression to meet your mother-in-law's face.

“I—eomeonim—how?” you splutter, cheeks flushed in mortification.

“I overheard the two of you,” she says simply, “And Jin left his laptop open and I saw an email from Jimin regarding the papers.”

You don’t know what to say because you’re absolutely mortified. More importantly, you feel ashamed. Ashamed because she found out due to you and Jin’s shouting in the kitchen and his carelessness. Not from you yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, emotions slowly overwhelming you as she looks at you with an unreadable expression.

“Why are you apologising, my sweet girl?” she says softly, immediately reaching out to you to wrap her arms around you as a mother would. And right now, she wasn’t your mother-in-law—but a woman who’s seen you grow alongside her own two children. You weren’t disappointing your mother-in-law but your second mother.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” you choke, tears immediately falling the tighter she holds you, “I-I’m s-so sorry. I-I tried—I didn’t—want to but—I-I’m sorry.”

Your words are slurred the harder you cry, pathetically shoving your face into her shoulder as she holds you. The dam breaks, unleashing the emotions you’ve held in for so long in the arms of a mother. She doesn’t say anything but brushes your hair, holding you a little tighter when your tears stain her nightgown.

You don’t know why you’re crying so hard. Maybe it’s because it seems all too real now, with Jin’s mother knowing. Her words only solidify the fact that your marriage was nearly over and you couldn’t do anything. The ghost of Jin’s words from a day earlier still remain clear to you, and maybe—it was really your fault.

You decided it was over.

“____,” she calls you softly as you continue to sniffle in her arms, frustrated at the fact that your tears weren’t stopping. “Look at me, dear.”

You force yourself to obey even if you can’t bear to, the humiliation of her finding out this way still tormenting you.

“I’m sorry, eom—”

“Please don’t say sorry,” she holds your face in her hands, forcing your puffy eyes to look at her.

“But it’s,” you choke, unable to look at her without wanting to cry. “It’s—my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” she replies vehemently, swiping at your tears for you, “It’s not your fault.” She repeats in a softer tune.

“I wanted the divorce, eomeonim,” your lips wobble when you speak, words shakily escaping past your lips, “It’s all my fault.”

“I’m sorry,” she says instead as you nearly knock your forehead with hers at how fast you try to pull away, appalled that she was the one apologising.

“Why are you—?” your brows furrow in confusion when she holds onto you a little tighter.

“I’m not just Jin’s mother or your mother-in-law,” she says softly, “I’m a person and I see that you’re hurting. I’m apologising because you don’t deserve this.”

You swallow the lump in your throat as your eyes look up to the ceiling to stop your tears.

“I know mothers-in-law will side with their son,” she says, “But I won’t. Because Jin made a mistake and now you’re suffering because of him.”

“It’s not his fault,” you reply quietly.

You know that you blamed him earlier, but deep down—you could never blame Jin. You were the one that brought forward the divorce, and if you decided to keep fighting then maybe … maybe it wouldn’t hurt this much.

“I don’t know,” she sighs, “I don’t want to invalidate your feelings, that’s the last thing I want to do but …” she trails off as you stare at her expectantly, “I don’t know who he is without you, ____.”

You bite your lips to prevent yourself from crying again.

“Please don’t think of this as me trying to convince you to stay with him,” she begs, “If you’re unhappy, I rather you leave him than punish yourself.” You nod your head, eyes darting to your lap as she continues. “But I spoke to Jin.”

Your eyes immediately dart up in surprise as your eyes widen.

“You—?”

“Right after,” she continues softly, “I caught him before he went to bed and …” her eyes begin to water and you think you’re about to break again. “I haven’t seen him cry since your wedding day.”

Her confession knocks the wind out of you as you find yourself gasping, tears immediately leaving your eyes. The realisation that Jin cried, to his mother makes your heart clench. You knew that Jin wasn’t much of a crier himself—he didn’t even cry when Jiho was born. Nor was he the type to cry in front of his mother. He held his ego at a high level even if that irked you at times, so the news only makes you more devastated.

“I don’t know what he said to you per se,” she whispers, “But he loves you. He loves you so much—and that goddamn idiot doesn’t know how to do anything but work and I’m sorry for that. I shouldn’t be apologising on my son’s behalf but I want to. I want to because I love you as my daughter and I want to see you happy.”

“Eomeonim …” you croak, reaching your hand up to cover hers that lay on your face.

“Please, if you call me that I think I’m going to bawl,” she laughs quietly as you find yourself giggling along, despite the way it gets stuck in your throat. “My son is stupid. So stupid. Please—please talk to him. If it …” she swallows, “If it doesn’t work out—I’ll support you, either way. Just please, don’t leave whatever questions you have unanswered.”

You nod your head, chest feeling slightly lighter but burdened nevertheless.

“I will,” you say softly, “I promise.”

You walk her back to her room after, hugging her tightly at her door as she pushes past it, sniffling ever so slightly before retreating into the dark room.

You make your way quietly back to your room, mind weighed with different thoughts plaguing every crevice of your brain. You didn’t know what to make of her confession or statement. You wanted to believe her that Jin still loved you—but you didn’t know. You couldn’t know because you don’t remember the last time he held you, or maybe you did and it was months ago.

Your feet stop right in front of the door as you hesitate to reach for the knob. He was asleep, anyway. You decide to push, slowly turning as you slip into the dark room.

It wasn’t dark.

And Jin was awake.

He’s awake and sat in his bed, something resting on his lap as he uses the nightlight beside him to flip through it. He hears the intrusion as you stand, frozen, and his eyes lift to meet yours.

You think this is the first time in a while that you’ve seen him like this, in bed and comfortable with a slight puffiness to his eyes while his shirt remains wrinkled—the proof of his comfort. Your heart clenches because you missed this—missed returning to him in bed, soft and warm as you press against him.

And the dam breaks for the second time that night.

You don’t know what compels you to run to him, or allow him to hold you while you sob into his arms—but you do. You practically leap onto him, body curling pathetically into his side as he holds you like he’s afraid you’d slip away. He lets you cry your eyes out, he lets you cry until snot is unattractively running down your nose and staining his t-shirt. He lets you, because he hasn’t let you feel him for a long time.

You instantly melt into his hold, missing his warmth. And when your eyes briefly fall into his lap to get a glimpse of what he was staring at, you cry even harder.

It was a banner you made for his twenty-ninth birthday, right after the two of you got married. Your then favourite pictures of Jin stained every surface of the banner, some edges wearing off due to age—and you remember each moment so vividly.

From taking a picture of him when he was taking a picture of you, to when he was making you breakfast in the morning, to his birthday as you smashed cake into his face, the flowers he got you when he broke your favourite cup, your fishing trip—everything. You remember it.

You sob harder, clutching onto his t-shirt as he tucks your face into the crook of his neck, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. You were so tired of crying but it was all you could do.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers after your sobs turn into tireless chokes, “I’m so sorry.”

“I hate you,” you cry, hitting his chest while he lets you, “Why are you so stupid.”

“I know,” he sighs, “I’m stupid. Hate me. Do anything you want to me.”

“I-I”—you croak, still slamming your fists into his chest weakly as you helplessly flutter your eyes shut—“I don’t hate you.” You finish quietly, your truth surfacing as you note that his eyes soften at your defeated tone.

Your emotions are everywhere and frankly, you can’t really think with how you’re pressed against his body like you never wanted him to let go. Right now, you didn’t. You wanted to be held, vulnerable and teary while he soothes you with his gentle touches.

You can’t stop the tears, way too overwhelmed to even process the fact that Jin doesn’t shift away one bit, hand clutching the back of your head as he rubs circles against your scalp. Who were you to pull away?

You sniffle pathetically before you pull away ever so slightly, flushed and embarrassed at the sudden loss of control over your emotions.

“Are you done?” he asks softly, referring to your tears as you pull away to swipe under your eyes.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, “I still feel like crying.”

“Then cry,” he replies gently, “I’ll be here to hold you.”

You want to hit him because his words only spur the tears on.

“I just wanted you,” you whisper, “I only wanted you …” your lips wobble when you look up at him.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, “I know sorry won’t erase the pain I’ve caused you but that’s all I can offer for now.”

“Why did you—why did you just”—you sniff pathetically—“why didn’t you fight me. Why didn’t you stop me.”

“I thought it would make you happy,” he pulls away, and you both know how absurd his excuse sounds but you’re too tired to fight. “I only wanted you to be happy.”

“You idiot,” you hiss through a clogged nose, “You would’ve made me happy.” You say softly. “I wanted to be happy with you.”

“You make me happy too,” he says softly into your hair.

You’re still angry, and you’re tired. But even if there were things you were unsure about, you missed being close to Jin more than anything.

“Your mom said you were stupid,” you murmur.

He laughs quietly, pulling you closer to his chest.

“I am,” he agrees.

The silence returns but it’s no longer as suffocating as the past few days have been. It’s more reflective than not and you’re thankful, even if your eyes are uncomfortably swollen—you allow yourself to be held. The weaker part of you is unable to say no to him.

“Why …” you begin softly, eyes looking up to already see him staring at you. “Why didn’t you sign the papers?”

He blinks at you for a while before he sighs, resting his chin atop your head.

“I didn’t want it to be real,” he says so softly you almost missed it. “I thought—I thought if I dragged it out then …”

“… it wouldn’t have happened?” You finish quietly.

He groans, frustrated as your eyebrows furrow at his sudden change in demeanour.

“I know it sounds pathetic,” he admits, “I was a coward, ____. I was stressed and overwhelmed and—suddenly … you wanted a divorce, I just”—he takes a deep breath to collect himself and you’re mildly alarmed to spot his glassy eyes—“I didn’t know what to do …”

“Why didn’t you talk to me?” you ask timidly, fingers gripping his shirt tightly. There was really no need for you to cling onto him, but you couldn’t do anything else right now. Especially when he returns the gesture.

“Would you believe me if I said it’s because I didn’t want to burden you?” he brushes your hair out of your face as his hand cradles your cheek, “I wanted to be the one you could rely on and … I didn’t know what to do.”

Your face crumbles when you note the sincerity behind his voice. Rationally, you knew that a relationship required communication but you knew Jin, and you knew that he always tried to plaster this mask to the world that depicted him as a reliable and unshakable fortress. All this time … he was struggling and so were you.

The realisation only makes you sadder, and you feel all the more horrible when you remember that you brought up the divorce in the midst of all of this.

“I’m sorry!” you wail, face burying into his chest as his eyes widen.

“_____—” he murmurs.

“No—I just,” you say frantically, rushing to get your words out, afraid if you’d forget as if he’d disappear. “I didn’t know—and I thought—I thought you didn’t … I thought we were—fuck. I’m so sorry, I just wanted you—I—”

You have no idea what you’re saying but Jin doesn’t look confused. He understands, and you know that because he shoots you a gentle smile before rubbing his thumb across your cheek.

“Please don’t apologise,” he whispers, forehead resting against yours as you blink away your tears. “I don’t blame you. I could never blame you.”

“But I …” you protest.

He shushes you with a kiss to your forehead and you instantly melt into his hold.

“You did what you thought would make you happy,” he tells you honestly, “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I asked for a divorce, Jin,” you exasperate.

“Are we?”

You blink, startled as you pull away, heart nearly shattering until he grabs you by the wrist.

“Hey, no,” he whispers, “That’s not what I meant,” he cups your face in his hands as your lips wobble all over again. God—you fucking despised being a crybaby. “Look at me.”

You do, and you see how tired he looks. How have you not noticed before? His cheeks look duller, and his dark circles are more apparent than ever. You just want to reach out to touch him.

And you do. Your hand shakily reaches out to caress his face in a way that you weren’t able to for the past few months. It’s almost like a new feeling, but your fingers find their way home relatively easy, tracing each pore and wrinkle, memorising his face to memory all over again.

“Are we getting a divorce, ____?” he repeats firmly, never breaking eye contact with you.

Your lip tremble.

“I don’t—” you warble, as he leans his forehead against yours again.

“Because I don’t want a divorce,” he says, and it’s the first time he’s explicitly admitted it.

“I don’t either,” you say weakly.

“I meant it when I said I want to be with you in sickness and in health,” he whispers earnestly, breath tickling your cheek, “And till death do us apart.”

“I’m sorry, Jin,” you say timidly, eyes darting to your lap.

“Don’t apologise to me,” he says sternly, not unkindly as your eyes flutter up. “Not when I’m the one that has an entire lifetime worth of apologies to give you.”

“I just …” you trail off softly, “I just want us to be okay.”

He’s still staring at you, and there’s a pained expression behind his eyes.

“Can I kiss you?”

His question stuns you, purely because you weren’t expecting it and because you’ve nearly forgotten what it felt like to have his lips pressed against yours, or even the nervous waver of his voice when he looks at you so earnestly that you can’t find the words to respond with. So, you settle for actions instead.

You nod your head mutely, heart ramming against your chest when he begins to lean in.

You don’t remember the last time he’s kissed you, or held you, or looked at you like this. There’s a dull ache in your chest when you recall the nights you’ve spent agonising over the downfall of your marriage, but Jin distracts you from your thoughts when his lips tickle over yours.

There’s no rush this time, even as your eyes are swollen while you flutter them shut. There’s no desperation to kiss you, and you aren’t desperate to be kissed either. It’s as if the both of you wanted to savour this moment—to remember what it feels like to have almost lost. It hurt—but it was necessary. A necessary reminder to you and to Jin that fighting was tiring but it was worth it.

When he finally presses his lips to yours, you nearly cry. You immediately melt into his hold, especially when he cradles your cheek with his palm and pulls you closer to his chest.

You kiss him with a mission to tell him how much you’ve yearned for this—for him. But you’re distracted when you feel something hot against your cheek.

It’s not your tears—it’s his.

You pull away, alarmed when you realise that Jin’s body is shaking.

“Jin?” zYou clutch his shoulders, eyes searching for his as he covers his face with his shoulder, effectively shielding his tears away from you.

“I-I’m sorry,” he chokes, furiously wiping his eyes with his shirt as your face falls.

“J-Jin, please don’t—” you say shakily, going to embrace him, but to your displeasure, he refuses, breathing deeply to collect himself.

You don’t think you’ve seen Jin this uncollected ever. Not even when he was crying during your wedding. His body shakes with the ferocity of his tears, the intensity of his breaths only causes his shoulders to heave up and down and all you can do is stare at him with sad eyes.

“I know an apology won’t fix anything,” he says vehemently, managing to get some of his words out as he peers up at you with red-rimmed eyes, “But I’m sorry. I’m sorry for making you question this marriage—for—for not loving you the way you deserve.”

“Jin …” you say softly, reaching out to hold his hand as his own tears continue to fall from his eyes.

This time, it’s you who allows him to nuzzle his head into the crook of your shoulder as he sobs. It’s quieter than you, but no less painful.

“I was so scared,” he confesses, “I was terrified when you showed me the papers. I really thought—this is it. It’s over.”

You stay silent, biting your lip to stop your own tears from escaping when you recall the memory.

“I was so scared what would happen,” he croaks, “I thought I was going to lose you, forever. I thought—I thought I was going to lose Jiho.”

“I’d never do that to you,” you say shakily.

“I know,” he returns, “But I was the most afraid of who I was going to be without you.”

You look down at him when his eyes dart up, pained and sunken when he clutches your hands in his larger ones, squeezing your fingers in a way that you assume he hopes to translate his desperation. You feel it, and you squeeze back.

“You’re Kim Seokjin,” you murmur, rubbing your thumb across his chin.

“That’s just my name,” he scoffs, shaking his head, “I’m nothing without you.”

“That’s not—”

“You and Jiho were the only one’s that got me through each day, you know?” He murmurs as your heart clenches. “Every day, when another deal failed to follow through and ended up bringing losses—or when the stockholders went against me—I could only think of you and Jiho.”

You couldn’t stop the tears that return this time around, choking on your own sobs.

“I wanted so much to give you both the world that I,” he swallows, “That I got greedy—and I ended up … I ended up losing the both of you instead.”

“I’m here, Jin,” you say softly.

“I know I don’t deserve it yet,” he says quietly, “But please don’t leave me.”

You realise belatedly that even with the divorce, you could never have left him the way you thought you could.

You don’t answer him, instead—you provide your answer through your actions by kissing him. Harder than before but just as earnest. Both of your tears clash against your skins, but you can’t be bothered to care when he returns your kiss with an equal amount of desperation and affection.

“I love you,” he breathes into your mouth as you gasp. “I love you more than love itself.”

You want to hit him in the way he’s making you cry harder.

“I love”—you choke on your words when he presses a kiss to your jaw, his confession raw and honest—“God, I love you.”

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life loving you,” he says vehemently, kissing every inch of your face, your jaw and your neck as you cling onto his shirt desperately right before his dark eyes look up to catch your flushed expression. “Will you let me?”

“Yes—God—please,” you beg, pulling him closer to your body as he peppers open-mouth kisses down your sternum and across your chest.

“Can I love you tonight, ____?”

You nod your head desperately, heart fuller than it’s been in a long time. You know the consequences, and you couldn’t give a damn right now. You still needed to heal, and so did he—but when he holds you a little tighter, you know that neither of you was going anywhere.

“Love me,” you gasp, “Please, Jin.”

“I’ll love you,” he hisses, trailing down your neck, his words juxtaposing with the tenderness of his touch as his hands slip under your shirt. His touch is molten, especially when you’ve missed the feeling of having him like this—close, desperate and yours for the moment.

“I miss you,” you confess while he drags his fingers across your abdomen and rests right under your breasts. He looks up at you with soft eyes as you return them, eyes swollen. “I really miss you, Jin.”

He leans up to kiss you, hands multitasking as they cup your tits while you gasp into his mouth.

“I miss you,” he returns with a heartfelt tone, “I’ll never let this happen. Ever again.”

Now, all you can do is trust him, trust him and his words and that he’d take care of you. His hands tickle under your shirt but you can’t be bothered when he finally cups your breast with his large hands, gentle yet steadfast when he tweaks your peaked buds.

“O-Oh,” you gasp, head lulling back when his lips trail down to your neck, hands already helping you out of your shirt.

“Will you let me see you, beautiful?” he murmurs.

“Please,” you say breathlessly, lifting your arms up to ease the process.

You should’ve felt vulnerable, being more than just physically naked in front of him. But throughout the hurt and the pain, he’s never made you doubt yourself for once. It was as if you were held captive by him, even when your heart was slowly shattering. It’s also why when he gives you a once over with hunger behind his eyes, you don’t shy away. Instead, your back arches, giving him more than enough to see—to feel.

“I missed you,” he repeats, pressing a kiss to your nipple as you whimper, hands curling around his hair as his head dips lower, “Missed you—missed how gorgeous you looked like this.”

He tells you more by painting the truth on your breast, lavishing each bud with pert attention as you find yourself growing wetter in arousal. His tongue is hot against the cool air of the room, the juxtaposition of the temperatures only sending your head into short-circuiting.

“J-Jin please,” you breathe, staring down at him when his dark eyes lift up to meet yours. His stare is enough to have your thighs clenching together. “M-More.”

“Of course,” he croons, “I’ll give you everything you want.”

You mewl as his hands trace fluttering touches against your stomach before they’re reaching your mound. He doesn’t drag this out as he’d normally, the distant memories of your nights spent tangled together as he edged you till you were crying. No, this time—he’s gentle, he’s soft and careful with the way he handles you, spreading your legs as you pliantly obey, eyes fluttering with every move that he makes.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your mound as you whimper at the contact, needy in want. “I’m gonna eat this pretty pussy, hm?”

You nod your head in desperation, lifting your hips to aid him in the process of slipping off your pants along with your panties, baring your slicked pussy to his face. You catch a brief glimpse of his expression, especially when he unabashedly ogles your wetness with desire behind his eyes. You’re a little flustered since it’s been a while, so your legs naturally threaten to snap shut but Jin doesn’t let you get too far.

“Don’t hide from me,” he says quietly, eyes peering up at you as you can’t find it in you to respond with how your throat clamps shut. “Want to see you. Always do.”

Your heart tugs in your chest, but you aren’t able to dwell on the feeling for too long when Jin dives into your heat, tongue immediately flattening against your pussy as he tracks your wetness up your slit to where your engorged bud lies. Your back immediately arches while your hand finds purchase in his hair, grounding yourself at the way your stomach immediately heaves inwards at his ministrations.

Jin doesn’t relent, nor does he tease. He’s quick and precise with every flick of his appendage over your clit, rapidly swirling the bud in the way you like as he alternates between harsh sucks and tugging at the pearl, causing sobs of pleasure to leave your lips. It’s a product of how long you’ve been together and how he’s learned every pulse and shiver as a sign of your pleasure.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you mewl, “D-Don’t stop.”

“You taste so good, love,” he moans into your pussy, the vibrations immediately causing your toes to curl as your head tilts backwards. “A pussy like yours should be eaten every day, yeah? As your husband—I should do that.”

When he calls himself your husband, you feel yourself whine in pleasure, the term causing fondness to bloom in your chest. You don’t know if he’s said it on purpose, but he doesn’t stop with his actions, instead, one of the hands that presses your stomach down to keep you in place reaches up to where your hand clutches his hair and brings it away.

“J-Jin,” you whine, hips bucking when he swirls his tongue over your clit, slowly while his eyes peer up to lock with yours.

The act is all too intimate, and your poor heart can barely take it with how sensitive you are all over, emotionally and physically. But Jin takes your flushed face as a good sign, and he ruins you all over when he intertwines your fingers together.

“Can feel you clenching,” he hums teasingly, “you going to come for me?”

You nod your head vigorously, fingers pressing tightly against his larger palm as he laughs into your pussy at your eagerness. Once he gets the confirmation for you, it’s like he was holding out the entire time despite him causing your legs to shiver by the side of his face.

This time, Jin presses his face tightly against your pussy as you squeal, louder than you expected as he flicks his tongue over your bud so rapidly that your mind is blank in pleasure, legs shaking uncontrollably as your body quivers in pleasure.

“Oh oh oh! J-Jin—fuck, I-I’m gonna—please let me cum, please please please,” you cry desperately, hips grinding against his face as he slurps your clit like he was parched.

“Come for me, beautiful. Wanna feel you drench my tongue,” he encourages you softly, yet his words send a wave of pleasure all across your body as you finally feel the last bit of your coil snap.

“J-Jin!” you sob, back arching as his large palm splays over your stomach to keep you rooted in position, forcing you to take all the pleasure he was giving you. Your legs shake by his face as he keeps his mouth open with his tongue out as you ride the aftershocks of your orgasm away.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pulling away with a parting kiss to your clit that as you jumping. “I missed this. Missed your pussy.”

“Miss you,” you mumble dazedly, your fingers carding through his hair as he peers up at you.

“Come here,” he whispers, inching up as he gently holds your cheek in his palm while you immediately lean into his touch.

While you lay on his bed, relatively boneless, Jin stares at you with devout affection, his eyes softening when he holds your gaze. His lips glisten with your wetness, mouth slightly parting while he rubs a thumb against your cheek.

“I love you,” he says quietly, “I really—I’m so in love with you.”

“Jin,” you say shyly, eyes darting away when he doesn’t look away.

“You’re the love of my life,” he divulges gently, leaning his forehead against yours as you take in every freckle that marks his skin, and the dulcet curve of his lips when he presses it against yours.

You can’t find a response that would indulge in what you truly felt, so you settle for reciprocating his kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck as you learn all about the way he feels all over again. You miss this, and you’d admit it over and over again—until he reminds you just how much of a home his touch was.

“I want you,” you whimper, pulling away to peer up to his dark eyes.

“Gotta be quiet, okay?” he murmurs as you nod obediently. “Need me to prep you? It’s been a while.”

Ever the gentleman and the considerate person he was, although you reckoned it was the most sensible option—you missed the feeling of having him feel you whole.

“No need,” you say, “Just—fuck me, please.”

He chuckles, leaning down to press hot kisses against your jaw and the nape of your neck as he uses his palms to spread your legs, feeling the way his hardened cock presses against your thigh. You take the time to card your fingers through his hair, gently pressing against his temple, then his cheek, and finally his bottom lip while you attempt to let your actions display what you feel.

As if Jin senses this, he leans up to press a soft kiss to your lips. One that’s both desperate and longing, a greeting from the past that blooms in the present.

“Ready?” he murmurs, fist clutching his cock while it prods against your quivering hole.

He swiftly removes his shirt, chucking it aside as he presses the tip against your quivering hole. You nod eagerly, wrapping your arms around his shoulder as he finally pushes through the first barrier. Your breath hitches, mostly because Jin wasn’t average-sized by any means. He grunts from above you, face contorted as he slowly inches his way in, careful to not hurt you.

Frankly, you were wet enough from your previous orgasm and how much your body craved him—but as you mentioned, he was big. But the pleasant burn of his girth stretching you out have you gasping, eyes peering up at him in desperation.

“M-More,” you whimper, hips chasing his as you encourage him to sheathe himself further into you.

“Are you sure?” he asks, lips pressed against your jaw as you nod.

“I’m good,” you assure him, pulling away just to shoot him a small smile that he returns.

Finally, he bottoms out, the last bit of his length in you as you whimper at the feeling of being so full, so whole. Jin remains still, to allow you a few seconds to adjust to having him in you. While you were desperate for more, you appreciated the gesture.

There’s something oddly intimate about having him in you but not moving at all. There’s no rush to thrust into you with hot pleasure and love, but just the comfort of having him here—with you. Your heart squeezes in fondness, mostly because you missed him. Missed having him so close to you and in your reach.

“Y-You can move,” you pant, hips already moving at their own accord as he groans from above you.

“God,” he sighs, “I missed you. Missed you so much.”

“I-I missed you too,” you say in between pants as he begins to thrust into you, pulling his cock out until the hilt before slamming back home.

It sends your body up the bed as you indulge in how good it feels. Both emotionally and physically. One of your hands clutches at his hair while he builds up his pace by occupying all the space in between your hot walls.

“Fuck,” he grunts, “You feel so—good.”

You nearly forgot how strong Jin was, and how effortlessly he was able to send white-hot pleasure coursing through your bloodstream with the way that his hips move. He’s relentless with his pounding, the squelches of your wetness echoing in the room with every single purposeful thrust, your gasps of pleasure tangled with the way the slap of his hips meet yours—it’s all too stimulating and it feels so good.

“Oh my God, J-Jin, fuck, oh,” you sob, clawing at his back when he speeds up his thrusts, the tip of his cockhead scraping against the spot within you that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You feel so full, and your pussy is attempting to accommodate his thick and long length. Your clit is throbbing in want as your hand reaches down to deliver some reprieve, but before you can do anything meaningful—Jin’s slapping your hand away to replace it with his own, and a determined expression on his face.

“Fuck, this pussy’s so wet,” he hisses, rubbing vigorous figure eights on your swollen bud as your mouth falls open into a silent moan, “Would die for this pussy. Always.”

His words send your stomach clenching, paired with the way he doesn’t falter at all with the rhythm of his brutal thrusts.

“Oh oh—ngh, p-please—don’t stop oh my God you’re so fucking—good,” you scream, right before Jin captures your mouth with his lips, swallowing your moans.

“As much as I want to hear you, we’re not home,” he reminds you softly, eyes swirling with amusement as you flush a deeper shade of red, a chortled squeal caught in your throat when he emphasises his point with a particular thrust that has your chest jostling.

Yet, it’s not his cock that has you burning.

Home.

Your home. The home that hasn’t felt much like one.

“Ohhhh,” you wail, muffled by his lips, “Don’t stop oh my god, I’m gonna fucking cum again—shit.”

“Yeah, gonna cum for me again?” he eggs you on with a grunt, leaning his chest against yours as your sticky body meets while his hips continue working its way into your pussy. “God fuck, I’m so lucky—you’re so beautiful.

“J-Jin,” you mewl, your glassy eyes peering up at him as he returns. Somehow, he knows—he knows even if all you’ve uttered was his name.

“I got you, my love,” he says so ardently that you feel a tear fall, both in pleasure and in overwhelming love. “Look at me.”

You do, and Jin decides to intertwine the free hand that isn’t abusing your poor clit into blazing pleasure with your own, squeezing your hand. It just so happens to be his left hand, and you feel the familiar squeeze of his wedding ring against your empty finger.

The realisation that he never took it off only makes you cry harder.

“J-Jin, I-I’m—” you blubber through a moan, feeling the coil in your stomach grow tenfold when he rams into you at a speed and a sense of determination you’ve never felt before. “I—oh fuck—I’m going to—!”

“I love you,” he confesses, squeezing your hand as it lays by the side of your head. The heat grows, and you feel yourself grow light-headed when Jin leans in to press a hot kiss to your lips, his own grunts caught in between your teeth.

“I love—fuck, oh,” you struggle to form coherent words, not when your pussy clenches erratically around his length, your wetness dripping down his balls while he attempts to focus on battering your g-spot with a snipers precision.

“Cum for me,” he grunts, “Cum for me and look me in the eye. Wanna see how fucking gorgeous you look for me.”

You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut momentarily as more tears fall, and when you open them—you see a manic look in Jin’s gaze, paired with his own stray tear falling.

“I love you—I love you I love you I love you,” you chant frantically, cunt pulsing as your legs shake, “I-I’m cum—cumming—”

“Me too, love,” he murmurs, hips stuttering when you clench around him. “I love you so much. You’re the—best thing. I’m so fucking—lucky.”

His own words are slurred, and you feel the coil snap, your eyes trained only on his expression as you feel your orgasm overtake you with an acute force that has you nearly blanking out. You gush around his length, and that stimulates Jin’s own release, his cum painting your walls white with its heat as you shudder at the feeling of being so wholly full.

“Oh oh oh,” you mewl, clutching his hand tighter as you choke on your sobs of pleasure and tears. “Kiss me. Kiss me please.”

Your pleas are granted with a desperate kiss to your lips, your arms immediately wrapping around his shoulders while he shoves his cock further into you, plugging his cum as you whine into his open mouth. He releases loads of his cum into you that it threatens to slip past your swollen folds.

Jin kisses you, and you kiss him back. You don’t dare to let go and neither does he. The desperation between the two of you is an accumulation of nights spent apart, spent agonising the death of your relationship, the potential of a future without each other—the hypotheticals of what-ifs. You feel his ring against your jaw when he curls his hand around it to push himself deeper into your mouth.

“I love you,” he says again, and yet your heart flutters like it’s the first.

You pull away to catch your breath, forehead resting against his as you sniff the remaining of your tears away. A croaked laugh leaves your lips as Jin smiles softly at you, thumb rubbing against your cheek with immense tenderness and affection that you can’t do anything but lean into his touch.

He’s still in you, and yet—there’s no rush to move despite the cum that leaks out of your hole.

“I love you,” you echo.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you, regret staining his words as his eyes flutter shut. “I—I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness just yet—”

You stop him by pressing a kiss to his lips, soft. Pleading.

“We’ve got all the time to learn,” you say quietly, “Now, I just want you.”

He pauses for a second just to observe your face, to take in your earnest eyes as he sighs, both remorseful and thankful. Thankful that he’s met you, and thankful that you’re still here despite his shortcomings.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” he says with a determined gaze as you smile softly at him.

“I’ll take your word on that,” you say with a giggle.

He pulls out of you as you wince, immediately feeling his cum drip out of you. You’re about to whine a complaint, but he interrupts any ripostes from your lips with another kiss.

You’re not complaining.

“And I’ll spend the rest of my life loving you,” he says as you flush at his words. “Being next to you. Learning with you. Growing with you. I want to do it all—only with you.”

You want to slap him. You do. It’s the only thing you can think of when you feel your tears burn behind your eyelids.

“God,” you sniff as he grins at you.

“You’re such a crybaby,” he teases, leaning over your body to pick up his t-shirt before he’s wiping at your folds.

You scowl, ready to nag his ear off for using his own shirt, but before you can do any damage, he’s chucking it aside once he deems you clean enough before he’s suffocating you with a death grip around your body.

“My baby,” he murmurs into your neck as you flush.

“Jiiiiiiin,” you whine, “I need to—I need to pee.”

“Let me carry you,” he immediately says, swooping your naked body up with his arms as you yelp.

“I’m not—I can walk!” you squeak.

“Don’t think so,” he smirks as you roll your eyes at him, your eyes still puffy from your tears. “Your legs are shaking.”

And shaking, they were. You knew that you had no way of walking to the bathroom without collapsing with how good Jin had fucked you previously. But you were prideful as you stick your nose up snootily, looking away when he leans in to kiss you.

“Does the queen not want to kiss her king?” he pouts childishly as you roll her eyes.

“More like a peasant,” you mutter.

You squeal when he threatens to tickle you, blowing a raspberry into your neck while your boisterous laughter echoes against the wall.

It’s late, and people were sleeping, but the way that Jin holds you so gently as you’ve remembered—makes you forget about reality, about everything else. You can only focus on him, the way he’s making you feel and the way you see your best friend, love of your life—and your husband—return to you.

“Hey,” he murmurs once you’re done peeing and draped over one of his large t-shirts as the two of you cuddle in bed.

“Hm?”

“I love you,” he whispers, your eyes nearly drooping shut in fatigue.

“I love you too,” you say softly, snuggling into his chest as he holds you tighter.

“Once we go back …” he murmurs, “I want—I want us to go for couple therapy.”

You pause.

You look up at him, noticing his nervous expression as you smile. You wrap your fingers around him before brushing your thumb over his knuckles comfortingly.

“Okay,” you agree, “We will.”

“And … I want to take you out,” he says before clearing his throat. “On a date.”

“We’re married,” you giggle.

And it feels to good to believe it.

He rolls his eyes and you spot the slight flush on his cheeks.

“I know,” he says, “I missed going out with you.”

Your face softens before you sigh to yourself, happy.

“Me too,” you say.

“I love you,” he repeats again. You won’t ever get tired of hearing it.

You return it with a kiss, and finally, allow yourself a comfortable sleep after months.

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It’s both simultaneously all too hot and too cold when you arise from your slumber.

Your body aches in satisfaction from the events from last night, and you vividly remember the hot touches and long-awaited, teary-eyed confessions that were shared between you and your husband (and yes, your heart does bloom when you refer to Jin as his rightful position in your life rather than … that).

But the indent of where his body lays remains cool, as your body attempts to search for warmth that wasn’t the duvet absolutely suffocating you but in a touch of the love of your life. Still drowsy from sleep, you pat down on the mattress to find not what you were looking for, but a sick feeling of anxiety that stirs in your stomach.

The worst permeates your mind, and for a moment you’ve wondered if you dreamt it all—the reconciliation that promised retribution and a better future just a figment of your imagination and deepest desires. The mound between your thighs aches when you push yourself into an upright position, blinking as you attempt to search the room for his whereabouts.

Before your mind can continue to think the worst of the situation, the door creaks open—and Jin enters, face still slightly puffy from sleep but no less handsome than he’s always been. Your shoulders droop in relief, and just as you’re about to call to him—you note the third guest that joins you.

“Stole Jiho from the kids' room,” he whispers in consideration of your still snoozing son as he wraps himself around his father’s broad body.

“Thought you left,” you confess softly, making space when his knee pressed against the mattress, only for him to lay Jiho softly on the plush surface as he joins his son by his side.

“Never,” Jin says, reaching a hand to brush a stray hair away from your face before he reaches to hold your hand to press a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

At that moment, your son’s eyes slowly peer open, probably due to the fact that you and Jin were staring at him with full adoration. When he realises it’s just his parents, he grins, wide and with his bread cheeks before he lets out a giggle that has your heart soaring.

“Mama,” he smiles, chubby arms reaching out for a hug as you indulge in his affection. You lay back, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he snuggles into your warmth.

“Just wanted to hold the both of you,” Jin says as you rub gentle circles on Jiho’s back.

Your heart softens exponentially, free hand reaching out to Jin’s so that he’d wrap an arm around you and your son.

“Warm,” Jiho mumbles, pressed between the bodies of you and Jin’s love while the two of you stare, hopelessly and utterly in love with the person you’ve created—and each other.

“I love you, Jiho,” Jin whispers, hugging him impossibly tighter as your son smiles innocently.

“Love you!” he chirps back, eyes fluttering shut the more comfortable it gets for him.

As you run your fingers fondly through the strands of your son’s hair, Jin’s voice interrupts your love-dazed gaze with a soft confession, a record of the years you’ve known each other and the many more years you had to learn about each other.

“I love you,” he murmurs, leaning over to capture your lips in a kiss.

You smile even with the crust in your eyes, happy and content. You don’t respond because Jin’s already beginning to doze off, cheeks puffed and pressed against the pillow.

For a moment, you allow yourself to be selfish, to wallow in the love of your small family and the warmth that they gave you today, and every other day that was to come. You and Jin still had a long way to go before you could properly say things were okay, but the fact that either of you had given up, was more than enough to give you hope—to give you a vision of another thirty years, and more.

You’d do it all, with Jin.

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[greensaplinggrace]

honestly THANK YOU for saying all that abt baghra bc i thought i was going crazy from not liking her??? bc i haven't read the books and only summaries of them on wiki and like. i dunno why ppl like her actually even in the show bc this guy, her son, is like "i wanna make the world better for us grisha" and she's just like "no." even tho he sees that she's MAKING HERSELF SICK from suppressing her powers! she's literally like in bed coughing in the flashback yet seem much healthier at the little palace. also like after everything, after her disapproval, after the fold, after centuries of waiting for the sun summoner.. he never abandons her. he makes sure she's cares for. he doesn't harm her. and i have to wonder if baghra has ever thanks him for that, for just not leaving her alone. like i dunno how im suppose ro believe aleks is a heartless villain when he still cares for his abusive mom like this. like has baghra even told her she loved him (honestly she reminds me of a classic emotionally unavailable asian parent but maybe that's just me). also im wondering if baghra ever told aleks that he had an aunt.. bc like.. now that u bring up her isolating him it's like hmmmm...

not at me being like alina... why do u trust the bitter old woman who literally beats u with a stick and verbally abuses u every chance she gets.. just bc she showed a bad painting... like.. pls use two braincells to see that who u figured out as his mother... is also using his protection..

like baghra could've upped and left with alina. but no. she stayed bc she knew she was safe under aleks's protection.

alsoim just impressed that after his first friend tried to drown him and harvest his bones... he didn't go into hiding???? he still wanted to make a safe heaven for grisha!!! HE STILL WANTED TO PROTECT GRISHA EVEN AFTER HIS GRISHA FRIEND TRIED TO KILL HIM FOR HIS FUCKEN BONES. like... this is the guy im suppose to believe is the villain???

honestly i feel like part of the reason why LB's plotlines seem so bad and disconnected (and sometimes outright racist but that's another rant) and why darkles is disproportionately more violent and villainous in the later books is bc she didn't expect the darkling to be so popular and wanted to stick with her guns of making him the villain. but also wanted the money from aleks's popularity. but like you can't have ur cake and eat it too.

Well thank you for sending this ask! It's very sweet and very passionate. I'm glad you liked my post! I didn't put as much thought into it as some of my others lol. I kind of just talked. But it was nice to be able to finally talk about some of the problems I have with both her character and the fandom/author's perception of her.

HERE is the post this is referring to, in case anyone's wondering.

👀👀 You've hit the nail on the head for so many things, here!

Baghra is extremely emotionally unavailable, basically to the point of neglect. She's also verbally and physically abusive, traits which I doubt were only reserved for her students and not her son. Baghra claims she would do anything to protect him, but I've known a lot of parents who have that mindset and yet still harm their children because they think it's "good for them".

Aleksander stays at Baghra's side for years, and even when they're opposing each other she's never too far away from him. Idk if you've read the books but he does eventually hurt her. And as much as I don't like Baghra, I think his actions were horrid. But I'm also honestly kind of surprised it took him so long lmao.

Yeah I mean, in terms of isolation, let's not forget that she never wanted to introduce him to his father, either. Baghra's sense of eternity clouds a lot of her judgments on relationships, which means she views most people as dust and therefore teaches her son to as well. The problem with that is that he's a growing child, and he needs those social and emotional attachments for healthy development.

I would bet quite a bit of money that Baghra has either never told him she loves him or she has told him so few times it's practically forgettable.

And everything becomes more complicated because so many of Baghra's actions are understandable because of her life and her history, but the impacts they have on the people around her, especially Aleksander, are permanently damaging. And the fact that that's never gone over in critical depth in the books or how it's glossed over in fandom is just very disconcerting. Like, acknowledging Baghra's failings doesn't mean we're excusing Aleksander's actions, it just means we're holding Baghra liable for her own. Which the fandom should be doing, considering she's the epitome of an abusive parental figure.

And Alina trusting Baghra over Aleksander is even more confusing! Especially in the show!! This is the woman who beat her and abused her and tortured her friends when they tiny little children (and who probably still does so now that they're adults). This is the woman who mocks you and harasses you and insults you on a regular basis. Why does Baghra revealing she's Aleksander's mother make Alina change her mind?! Like fuck, I'd just feel bad for Aleksander. No wonder he kept it a secret, I would too! And that painting is enough evidence?! Really?! A random painting shown to you by this abusive mentor that's been making your life hell. That's what you're going to betray your new lover over?

The friends trying to harvest his bones thing is a good point, too. I think Aleksander, especially show Aleksander, is incredibly idealistic. I think he cares too much for others - those he's deemed worth his care (a sentiment given to him by Baghra). Despite everything she's tried to teach him about hiding and abandoning others and never caring and never doing anything to help or reach out or connect with people, Aleksander still continues to do so. It's likely because he never got it from Baghra growing up, and so is desperate for those emotional needs to be fulfilled elsewhere.

His turning point, when Baghra tells him it was understandable that those kids tried to kill him because the world is such a hard place for them - that's crucial. And the reason it's possible as a motivating factor is because of that idealism and that desire to help and that desire to be everything his mother isn't. Baghra tells him this trauma he just experienced was because of the oppression of his people, and instead of following her lead and accepting that, going into hiding and abandoning everybody to their misery, he goes I can do something about that. I can make it so this never happens again. Which is usually how trauma like that combines with one's core personality traits at a young age, especially when there's none of the essential support systems in place to aid in recovery (ie, the role Baghra should have been filling but wasn't, because she decided to exacerbate the problem instead).

And yeah, one of my biggest problems with the ham-fisted "beating you over the head with a sledgehammer of evil deeds" look-how-bad-this-character-is! portrayal of the Darkling in the later books comes from the impression I get that Bardugo doesn't trust her readers. She's so desperate to have us hate this character and think him an irredeemable villain, not trusting any of her readers to engage critically with a morally gray character, that it feels quite a bit like condescending fucking bullshit. Which ew, I know how to engage with literature, thanks.

She really does seem to look down on a large part of her fandom, and imo, the infantilization of the female characters in her books seems to carry over to her impression of most of her female readers as well. Which is why the Darkling's character arc gets fucking destroyed. But he's still a good cash grab, of course, so she'll shake his dead corpse in front of the fandom for money every time she wants something from it.

Also! Another reason I think her plotlines feel disconnected (I'm sorry Bardugo I respect you as a person, but shit-) is because the writing in SaB is just bad. I mean, nevermind the absolutely nauseating implications of the way she portrays the Grisha as a persecuted group who's situation is never actually fully addressed as it should be, considering Grisha rights is what her main villain is fighting for (imo for a series called the Grishaverse, LB seems to be pretty anti Grisha), but her characters and story alone are just wrong for each other. They don't fit together.

And the ending is one of the main pieces of evidence in that regard! You can’t say the ending where Alina isn’t Grisha anymore is her “going back to where she started” when she’s always been Grisha. She just didn’t know she was Grisha because she denied that part of herself that she was born with.

Alina is reluctant to move forward or change, she struggles with adapting, and she’s very set on the things she’s grown attached to throughout her life. She also has some latent prejudices against the Grisha, and so denies the possibility of being Grisha for those reasons as well.

Alina’s lack of powers in the beginning of her life because she willfully doesn’t learn about them to avoid change versus her lack of powers at the end of the book when she’s accepted them and then they’re stripped away from her by outer forces are two entirely separate circumstances. You can’t make a parallel about lost powers and lack of Grisha status bringing her back to the start when she was always Grisha and she always had powers and she simply refused to come to terms with it because of personal reasons.

The first situation is an internal conflict that indicates a story about growth and a journey of self acceptance. Denying herself the opportunity to learn about her heritage and to find acceptance with a group of people like her because she’s tied to the past and because of the way she was raised is the setup for a narrative that tackles unlearning prejudice and learning how to connect with a part of her identity that was denied her and learning how to grow independent and self assured. It’s the setup for a different story entirely. The second situation is an external conflict that centers around the ‘corrupting influence of power’... for some reason.

In a world where Grisha do not have social, political, or economic power and they are hunted, centering your heroine’s journey of self acceptance and growth around an external conflict about... the corrupting influence of power (in a group of people that don’t actually have any power?!) just doesn’t work. It is literally impossible to connect the two stories Bardugo is trying to push in Shadow and Bone without seriously damaging the main character’s developmental arc.

The only way a narrative like this would work, claiming that she has gone back to where she started, is either a) if the Grisha weren’t actually a persecuted group and instead were apart of the upper class, or b) if the one bad connection between the two instances is acknowledged - that Alina denied a part of herself crucial to self acceptance and growing up, and that losing her powers at the end has also denied her. It is a tragedy, not a happy ending.

Alina suffered because she didn’t use her powers. She grew sick. It was bad for her. This was not a resistance to 'the corruption of power and the burden of greed', it was her suffering because she couldn’t fully accept herself.

Framing the ending as a return to the beginning can’t be done if you don’t address how bad the beginning was for your main character. You brought her back to a bad point in her life. You regressed her. This should be a low point in her arc. It should be a problem that’s solved so she can finish developing organically or it should be something that is acknowledged as a tragedy in it’s own right, for the future the world (the writing) denied her.

This is a ramble and it makes no sense and I’m really sorry, but my point is that Bardugo put the wrong characters in the wrong story. The character arc required for organic development doesn’t match the story and intended message at all. The narrative doesn’t fit the cast. She's got two clashing stories attempting to work in tandem and she ends up with both conflicting messages that fans still can’t comprehend in her writing and an ending that doesn’t suit her main character to such an impossible degree that it’s almost laughable.

So yeah, there's a few reasons why I think the story and the plot feels so bad and disconnected. I hope you don't mind me making this answer so long! 😅 I was not expecting to write this much.

#shadow and bone #sab #grishaverse #alina starkov #aleksander morozova #mymetas #the darkling #baghra critical #anti leigh bardugo #sorry! #sab salt #sab meta #fandomcourse #negative #negativity #myramblings #asks and answers #joonmono #anti baghra #leigh bardugo critical #abuse tw #torture tw

[ringmyheart]

Can I request Vin Jin boyfriend headcanons and some fluff? (You don't have to force yourself)

(This and the other vin jin rq were merged!)

Honestly the way I see it, it doesn’t matter if you’re a very calm person or outgoing person. No matter what this relationship is gonna end up being considerably chaotic

He ropes you into everything he does. Doesn’t matter if u r a design student or an architecture student or if ur on the opposite side of the school from him, u r practically in his class. Dating him is like signing a contract sealing away ur own life bc he makes it a point to be ALWAYS w u

In class he doesn’t gaf if the teacher has ur seat on the other end of class, he is somehow finding a way to sit next to u against ur will or not. And when the teacher moves u two away from eachother INTENTIONALLY bc of this, he is threatening whoever happened to sit next to u to trade seats w him. He will go as far as to dress up as them to make it look like they’re them to be next to u and he’s so dramatic ab it.... being away from u felt like u were star crossed lovers whom the world was fiercely against

And if UR against this cuz ur tired of getting in trouble in class, or if you reject any of his advances, he’s gonna be really, really, really offended. He will at first sputter and be kinda shy and embarrassed about it, before he goes “fine! Have fun on your own without me, the greatest thing in your fucking life!”

He move seats back and will glare at you periodically every five minutes to pavlov dog you so that every five minutes every day, even when he’s not there, you feel the burning stare of vin jin

If you’re his s/o, he’ll buy you a matching pair of sunglasses so ur the freshest looking couple around Seoul (they’re hideous and thick but he thinks u look fly)

The glasses don’t have nearly as many layers as his does for himself so u can see, and u wonder how he managed to make them just as bulky and if he did it on purpose to sabotage u. Like “did u make my glasses purposefully ugly so no one else will want me?”

U have to dodge a punch after saying anything like that ab his fashion decisions LMAOAO

He’s rlly proud of u two matching. With the glasses and anything in general. He’ll make you wear a jacket matching his, or the same shoes and he will stop people in the hall and be like “wait. Notice anything cool ab us today?? Cooler than normal??”

And when they don’t respond he boasts “that’s right!! Me and my other half r matching. Look at us and weep, losers.” He thinks u two look so good....... if ur enthusiastic ab wearing matching things too he is elated u have to pray that tomorrow he won’t show up w another “if lost return to Vin Jin” “I’m Vin Jin” pair of jackets or anything of the like bc it happens SO OFTEN

And on the topic of sharing when it’s cold he likes to share jackets and blankets w u. Ur desks r moved by eachother by vin jin himself and u two share one blanket over u and shiver bc he just likes it, sharing w u plus he’s slightly warmer. And yes if you guys had indivizual blankets you would be warmer, but u guys have to struggle together he doesn’t care what anyone says (yes even ur protests ur sharing that one blanket wether he has to wrap it around u himself and tear up the one u brought on ur own or what”

He is so blind in love that he cannot tell when u guys suck at stuff. Like if ur in the wrong he doesnt care ur RIGHT and he’s taking that to the grave. He can belittle u and call u out but if someone else says ur in the wrong it’s on sight

Will die protecting ur name even when ur the one who was genuinely wrong

He forces u to make a beat for him to rap to. He loves rapping and wants to enjoy it w u, so ur forcefed YouTube videos of how to beatbox so u can be his bgm and eventually u probably just start to enjoy it to

And u always start a beat and he starts busting out rhymes and it’s SO BAD. It doesn’t matter if ur good at beatboxing if vin Jin is on the track w u it’s gonna sound terrible he brings the quality down immensely but u two just cannot tell

Like after a two session ur like “omg... that was so good. We should go pro?” “Fuck yea we should we’re better than those posers” “we could rlly make it in the industry fr” no u absolutely could not

During the school festival, u sang with him and it was SO bad. Half the crowd is gonna have 2 be hospitalized but u two had FUN up on the stage

Like I said, he has absolute faith in u. All u do is right. If ur driving a car for the first time, he is going to be ur little hype man doesn’t matter if u suck. U hit a curb and he went “YES babe!! Ur killing it cant wait till u hit the road bby” Ur not allowed to touch a car for the next two years now bc he kept cheering u on when u we’re doing CLEARLY wrong things

On a plane u r looking for the bathroom like pensively and u see a handle and look back and r like “is this it???” And vin jin thinking u r all righteous will go “yea babe go for it” and u open it and u depressurizate the cabin immediately

Now both on like 5 no fly lists

He loves to do things with u, like I mentioned earlier, and things he wouldn’t do alone he’ll do w u. Like drawing alone?? Boring. Drawing w Y/N??!!! Who knows what could happen..... so much fun could ensue. Maybe he will draw u cutely. Maybe he will draw u so ugly u will be forced to engage in a fight.

He likes to play just dance w u and compete for the “greats/all star!” Little titles above, and it becomes like a Friday night ritual for u two to turn just dance on and just go at it. But sometimes he’ll get too intense and suddenly he’s actually fighting for the chance to beat u. Will trip u so u lose on purpose

He makes u listen to him sing and rap to u. And u try to leave and he hugs tightly and is like LISTEN IFS FOR U, DONT BE UNGRATEFUL and now u have to listen

He makes u a mixtape of songs he made himself and they are all considerably worse than “remember the times we had”. It’s uploaded on SoundCloud and all the comments r hate and u listen to it a lot bc u know he loves u sm he made u a mixtape ya ur gonna play that but everyone else hates it w a passion

Like the comments r like:

Daniel: well.... it’s definitely a song 😅 I’m glad you love (y/n) so much!

Duke: he’s not making it out the hood 😐

Zach: never let this man in a studio AGAIN

Mary: this should’ve stayed in the CD

(Y/N): love it! 😍

Zoe: kill your producer 💀

Mira: ...

He’s overprotective too

If someone looks at u for more than a second he’ll go “what?? U think she is hot, huh? I’ll kick ur ass fucking perv.... cmon babe let’s go”

Will throw his arm around u and streer u the opposite way of any potentially good looking ppl to keep ur eyes on him

Oh Daniel is coming?? What a coincidence u and vin Jin suddenly have to turn the corner to the other way of ur classroom for some reason

Eli is near?!!! Oh no u just got milk spilt in ur eye!! Oh no now he has to wipe ur eyes and u two have to leave the cafeteria whatever will he do

It’s not that he doesn’t have faith in u, he doesn’t have faith in other men. Like he thinks they r all competition, and doesn’t doubt ur loyalty rather doubts how good he can b for u

WILL beat someone up for u. If someone smokes while ur around suddenly his fists r swinging at them cuz even if u smoke or vape urself no one else can get that stuff in ur lungs but YOU or HIM!!

If ur crossing the street and a car almost hits u, it’s the cars fault and he’s kicking the license plate and cursing it out for almost touching u “stupid fucking piece of metal”

Is the type of boyfriend to call u when he knows ur in an Uber and be like “babe u got ur gun w u right?? Oh don’t forget ur BOMB and ur MACHETE!! Yeah just left the house I killed some ppl nbd haha anyways HRU what’s ur Uber driver like” so the driver of ur car won’t even think ab kidnapping u. He has got ur back even when u do not want it

He doesn’t want u to see his eyes, so he’ll tell you to look away so he can take his glasses off and look at u in full color in all ur glory but he never tells u WHY he’s telling u to look away u think it’s a weird thing of his, or he’s insecure ab his face which is partially true but really he’s taking his glasses off and just looking at u. Adoringly.....

He hates PDA. He loves PDA. Do u see his dilemma

Like he loves PDA but doesn’t want anyone seeing him vulnerable even u.... so he’ll hold ur hand and be like “EWWW WHAT R U DOING GET YR HAND OFF MINE”

If u take the lead THATS best bc he can blame it on u and it’s ur fault he HAS to lock fingers w u cuz u did it to him first and he has an excuse to touch u and v like u started this im just sending u ur own energy back 😤

The type to be just like blind, overwhelmed in love. Always thinks ab u, always wants to be w u, worries ab u a lot and frets over u without showing it.... he hates it and loves it to death. Despises it but wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world

Eats lunch w u in the cafeteria and if u sit w someone else u r the ultimate traitor and he will trash talk u to hide his hurt to Mary the entire lunchtime. Kinda possessive.... wants u to also only think about him

WOULDNT EVER fight u for real. Play fights occur VERY often, like pillow fights, tripping ur foot when u say a joke insulting him, grabbing ur collar but he would sooner die than lay a finger on u

Verbal fights happen a lot and if he ever like LOSES it he may lash out and almost hit u and follow thru. I don’t think he’d be able to catch himself that quickly, and if he ever did he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Literally until the day dies he will take it to his grave

He may not sputter out apologieswill just look at u incredulously and then at his hands because what had he done? What did he just do? To you???????? (Y/n))))?????? His (y/n)??? Light of his life?

Will apologize probably over text or through a note or call, and if u don’t respond he is consumed by regret and tries to find u instantly like runs back to ur place

If u forgive him he feels bad still, because does he deserve it? And he might just isolate himself for a bit bc he can’t face u and if it left a scar he is dead inside. It kills him, literally

I could go on w this but I’ll probably save it for another separate pair of hcs later 😭

If u guys ever break up he will fight for u again and won’t stop till ur back together like flowers in ur locker every day, chocolate give during lunch, etc. He wont ever give up hope that he can win u over again and be w u again. He would keep trying, when he wakes up his first thought is ur name in a cold panic bc he can’t rest easy till ur his again and he will try and show off and poorly serenade u and trash his price and be corny and cheesy to get u back

Will set up a performance w the school to let him rap w a mic during lunch for u and he’s saying bars like “(read in bad rapping voice w inconsistent beat) (y/n), love of my life, uh, without you I’d die, uh. Please won’t you take me back? Yuh, without you ima have a heart attack. (Wha!). (Y/n), love of my life, yeah, without you I’m in strife, yup! Please be mine again, (babe), I can never rest till then.”

If the embarrassment doesn’t make u take him back so he’ll pls stop, and when he stands up on the lunch tables to do a little performance doesn’t do it either, then the odd sincerity of his voice and pain in his look (even tho while rapping he sticks out his lower lip in a weird pout) definitely, hopefully will

U make everything worth it !! Truly the light of his life

I hope these were what u wanted, I just had fun w them and wrote stuff that came off the top of my head when I thought of VJ!! ❤️

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

[SPOILERS FOR LEO’S ROUTE❗️] okay so i just got to the bit after leo reveals what he is, and mc and comte are talking on the balcony & comte offers to turn her into a vampire if she would like. obviously mc declines but i guess my question is, how do you think leonardo would react if mc DID agree to that offer? i am enjoying his route, but i kinda get the feeling he mostly/only loves mc because she is human :/ im interested abt what might happen if she didn’t say no? thank you v much💖💖ly lots

Aww, ily3 hun tyty 💕💕💕I’ll offer my thoughts below, I hope I can answer your questions to satisfaction! 

Ah yes, the point in Leo's route where I essentially get shot in the leg and limp through my walk of shame

Jk jk, but I think there has been a considerable degree of displeasure associated with Leonardo's line in the proverbial sand. No life with him can be spent as a vampire, MC must remain human. Despite his easygoing nature, he remains stalwart in his opposition no matter what the MC or Comte has to say. To summarize it quickly, Comte’s relieved exasperation at the end of Leo’s MS gets more across than I think any of my analysis can convey “Thank heavens one of you has good sense.” It offers the implication that he has tried to broach the topic with Leonardo out of concern, only to be met by a brick wall--or doesn’t try at all for fear that he’ll only ensconce Leonardo further into rejecting a greater future for him and MC.

As to how he would react I......really don’t think it would go well? Only because I think it would serve to reinforce the rifts that already exist in Leonardo’s self-perception. He would believe it was his own fault for pushing her in that direction, and while I don’t think he would hate Comte, he would definitely become estranged from one of his only close friends in life. (What GUTS ME about Comte offering to turn MC is that he is probably well aware Leo might beat the shit out of him, never talk to him again, or both--and he still fully accepts that he could lose his best friend to guarantee a future for both of them. Excuse me while I bawl in the corner) He probably wouldn’t hold it against Comte for too long, but he wouldn’t be any less aggrieved and hurt. And when Leonardo is vulnerable, he will hide and nurse his wounds until he can behave with some level of calm--or at the very least until he can pretend he’s okay after an initial explosion. He doesn’t feel comfortable troubling people with his own problems, so he tends to fall into silence when personal things come up. This doesn’t necessarily mean he resolves all of his emotional turmoil, or heals that fast; it only means that he wallows in those feelings alone unless they’re tugged out of him and worked through forcibly.

Basically, I see only one of two possibilities coming to fruition. The first is that he and MC would wobble only to completely fall apart if some kind of resolution could never be found. He’d continue to blame himself and start sabotaging his own happiness, and that would likely mean some level of selfishness directed at MC--resulting in anguish for the both of them. If MC takes on too much without complaint or Leonardo goes too far...I get the feeling that relationship would either end in shambles immediately, or result in a kind of twisted union in which both feel responsible for the other’s hurt but neither one can relieve it (until they’d be forced to split up before someone gets seriously hurt). They would be the source of each other’s suffering, so much so that the walls climbing between them might never again lower. 

This might sound odd, but if there’s one thing that Leonardo needs it’s control when it comes to his relationships with others. It is a subtle, but acute trait that might not seem obvious knowing his magnanimous disposition. He decides if MC gets to be a vampire, he bargains with Sebastian because he refuses to be a test subject, he refuses to validate Comte’s conclusions (despite knowing he’s right) because he doesn’t want to cede the power silence/smokescreens offer his emotional vulnerabilities. Even around villains like Shakespeare and the final serial killer, pay close attention. Shakespeare begins revealing deeply personal information and wishes that Leonardo holds close to his heart on purpose, snatching Leonardo’s agency and ability to control how his feelings are being conveyed. How does Leonardo respond? With explosive, forbidding anger--instantaneous and barely contained, nothing at all like his breezy attitude and calm.

If you think about it, it’s a fairly obvious extension of the humiliating powerlessness by which he was raised (he needs to be in control; he needs to be the one who decides who gets to walk away and who doesn’t. He doesn’t come on to MC because he wants to, he does it for the sole purpose of scaring her out of wanting to be a vampire. He doesn’t even attempt to explain where he’s coming from because he falls into whole-scale panic. When he loses control of the trajectory of others--of how they perceive certain things about him--all of his charisma fails him. If he can’t explain or justify where he is mentally, when he’s too afraid they won’t hear him or care, then he needs to redirect the opposing party). Additionally, he feels responsible; that he can better adjust the outcome with his experience--and while that may be true for some things, sometimes he gets ahead of himself. Only an individual can decide their own future and their own happiness, the most others can do is enhance or worsen aspects of life. He doesn’t have enough faith that his presence is positive or worthwhile enough to guarantee his spouse’s happiness ;-;

The other possibility I see is MC coaxing him as best she can into reassurance that she’s happy with her new life. While he may have doubts, there is absolutely room for her to help him approach those fears little by little. If Leonardo has even a hint of doubt in regards to his dismal feelings about her being turned, a potential for acceptance may be nurtured. I don’t think his uncertainty would ever fully vanish; there will always be a lurking fear that a fate tied to his can only mean suffering and disappointment. Prove his worth and compassion with time, and this man will be unable to remember how life was lived before her. It would take a great deal of patience and a sizable obstacle, but it wouldn’t be impossible. His heart is much too big for that, I think.

I don’t think happiness with a turned MC is impossible, only that it would take a lot of work to swing it after a heated moment of decision. I think the way to go with Leonardo is a more enduring effort. He shows much more receptivity after years of being together. I think time, ironically, helps him relax into the possibility of forever as a couple. I think he cannot conceptualize a world in which he is in love, and that this love is not conditional--not dependent on his ability to be the perfect companion, the brilliant inventor, the equanimous mentor. I think he needs to see for himself that love can be gentle and real and whole even when he’s at his worst (by his self-perception). 

Also I put some extra meta under the cut because I have brainworms and just can’t stop thinking about Leonardo rn so read if you like, but it’s more related to why he feels this way abt turning MC than necessarily about the outcome. 

That being said, I'm conflicted because I don't necessarily think Leonardo only loves MC because she's human? (Rather, I think it’s more a result of his history and the values he’s developed in response to that upbringing. But I’ll loop back to this in a bit, so stay tuned)

I say this for two reasons. Firstly, I don't want to say that no person in this period shared his values (I mean look at Comte)--this would be an overstatement, even if it was rare. But it does appear that Comte and Leonardo are acute exceptions within vampire society in elevating human beings to an equal status among vampires (if not a higher status at points or depending on the person). As such, a vampire partner he’d be comfortable living with is unlikely. Human beings are more optimal in some regards (more adaptable and more egalitarian than vampires, most likely), but he also knows that he’s more susceptible to falling in love with a human; so he makes sure to squash his feelings or remove himself when his feelings become too intense. 

Secondly, he's in close quarters with MC by necessity, and reacts to her isolation by virtue of the situation. That's probably half the reason they get together at all; he was fully intending to keep his distance despite his initial curiosity. One thing this signals to me is that even when Leonardo did feel attraction to any person he was in contact with, he would avoid them until they were removed from his presence--or he deflected their romantic approaches enough times for them to give up. With this in mind, it can come as no surprise that Leonardo has kept to himself for nearly five hundred years now. If it was another vampire hitting on him (especially a pureblood), he would be playing into his parents' expectations and would approach the vampire social hierarchy he was working so hard to escape. If they were human, he would deem himself a burden; he could never love them within the normal expectations of a human couple (growing old together, raising a family, etc etc). So ultimately I think it's less her being human, and more their compatibility and context.

As such, I think he just locks himself into a kind of Catch-22? Because in the end I think this is more about his own fears and insecurities--that he can never make someone happy, that he himself will never be enough (hello child of abusive home). Not to oversimplify his character, but one crucial element of his upbringing must be considered if he is to be analyzed properly.

There's something I often think about:

Comte, quoting Leonardo: "‘Not all parents love their children, or even think of them as such.’"  [Though he got away and was able to make a life for himself, he had to do it alone.]

There is. A LOT to unpack here. While we may not have evidence of what his familia is like firsthand, this description tells us...so many heartbreaking things. It tells us that Leonardo never once felt like anything more than a child intended to carry on a legacy. The likelihood that his insights, his feelings, or his entire self-hood were acknowledged is pretty much at a hardcore negative three. While it's been a good number of years since he was the problem child/family disappointment, I feel like so many of those experiences seep into his capacity to properly accept the love of another person. It's a good portion of the reason he struggles so intensely with being loved despite his unfathomable wealth of affection for other people. When a person is diagnosed with unlovable and cringe for having positive feelings for others, it's not really surprising that a person might have trouble accepting a commitment or attraction to another person. There is...a kind of Sisyphus dilemma that surfaces in the wake of that kind of life, a constant push + pull between craving acceptance and either expecting it’s loss and/or fearing it’s disappointment. Though he shows signs of healing from it, there are still portions that linger. (Jean-Paul shakes him from this self-berating in his MS, but after four hundred years he still struggles to overcome those instincts. I wish there were words for the extent to which that knowledge breaks my heart...Many say time heals all wounds, but sometimes I think only others can heal them.)

Keep in mind, I don't think his enduring fallacy that "human beings are the epitome of untainted purpose and vitality" is irrelevant or less problematic here. I just think it's a reflection of a deeper disturbance and loss. It's a reflection of his parents' unilateral rejection of the kinder parts of him; his devotion to patience and understanding. It's a kind of reiteration or what he's already known: he's doing exactly what his parents did in an odd way, he's rejecting vampirism whole-scale despite evidence of both pros and cons (just as it is for humanity). I will always offer that his fear of something going wrong during the change is completely valid--but it does feel more like a fear of admitting that vampires (and eternity for that matter) aren't inherently awful. He ran away from his parents for good reason of course, but for all his running he didn’t escape their black and white logic.

It’s funny too, because his absolutism is kind of reflected in his inability to commit to a single discipline in some ways; while part of it is that he probably exhausts study, I have to wonder how much of him oscillating is a fear of eventual failure. (Think his reaction to MC’s knowledge that he can’t dance, his mortification and utter...shock that she wouldn’t use it as a way to make him feel terrible about himself). He probably prefers to hone his skills helping people because the motivation of providing relief is a much more powerful motivator than knowledge for knowledge’s own sake. He needs the impetus, that drive to move him.

Granted, I won't fault anyone for feeling like Leonardo only loves MC for her humanity. At first glance it really did feel that way! But the more I think about it, the more I feel it has more to do with the weight of his life's experience, and the parts of himself he hasn’t been able to reconcile.

Sometimes, with Leonardo, I urge gentleness. So much of who he is disguises all the ways in which he has been hurt. While his decision is selfish and foolish, it comes from a broken place. My unhappiness will always lie predominantly with the fact that he believes to his core that happiness and self-respect is something he doesn’t deserve. 

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp mc #ikevamp meta #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp comte #er this response got a lot longer and more detailed than i meant it to be but uh #i hope it's helpful? #this is just how i tend to think about the game but then im also a feral leo stan alhkjadagd #im just that meme like 'i love you but i hate you but i love you' with leo LMFAO #sometimes u just gotta smack some sense into the man (which is why i love that Jean-Paul does exactly that HAHAHA) #but yeah most of the time i look at leo and have to resist the urge to cry and the recent event has been absolutely no exception #i would die for him

[lelawrites]

A life with you… (Kirishima EijirouXReader)

a/n: this is my first ever server collab with the first server im part off!! im so so so so so so excited for this and i hope you enjoy reading this and the other stories as well!

summary: In a world filled soulmates that couldn’t see colour without making eye contact, your quirk made people able to do so and it made your life hell. That is, until you meet your own soulmate.

warnings: panic attacks, past bullying, a villain attack, you are taken as a hostage,,kinda, a shitty quirk bUT!!! a fluffy end

----

The day you got your quirk was also the day your life started becoming hell. Your doctor called your quirk “Soulmate”, which was painfully accurate. Whoever you made eye contact with immediately fell in love with you, so much so that their brains malfunctioned and made them able to see all colours. You wouldn’t see any colour until you met your soulmate, but your mere existence disturbed this whole concept. Your quirk only lasted for around ten minutes though, so there was at least one good thing about it. It caused people you didn’t know to fall for you at first sight, made them see colours they weren’t supposed to see yet or again and they would always try to explain to you that you were their soulmate. You understood this and felt sorry for making them go through something like that, but you couldn’t control it. So, you learned from a young age how to explain to people that you weren’t their soulmate, kindly apologize and then leave as quickly as you can.

***

You were only four years old and you had never experienced such hateful glances and harsh shoves before. The day you got your quirk was the day all of your friends turned on you and warned, rather stopped, anyone else to come close to you. They said you would only make them love you and trick them into staying with you, even though that wasn’t the case at all. You couldn’t control your quirk one bit and every mean thing they said hurt you even more. Your small heart was breaking, your mind closing in on you, caging you in, only letting you be with yourself and your thoughts that turned darker by the second.

You were five when you asked your parents for glasses that didn’t let your eyes peak through. They agreed quickly, having noticed how timid and reserved you had gotten since you got your quirk. You didn’t look up at anyone, your eyes were always glued to the floor. You stayed alone as much as you could, silently rehearsing what you had to say if you did accidentally use your quirk on someone.

***

All your life you heard the mumbled words of others around you, talking about you, your quirk and how they could use you to see colour for the first time. You were like a cheat code in the system and people wanted to take advantage of that. And they did, too. You were tormented, pushed and shoved, because you didn’t want to take your glasses off. They bullied you until your glasses fell on the floor and pulled your eyes open. That was the day you begged your parents to let you attend an online school.

They let you, so you stayed home, in your small room. Alone, isolated and drowned in your own thoughts and taunting memories that seemed to repeat again and again in your head, every time more extreme, changing into something even worse. Your memories changed and every time it felt real. You couldn’t even trust yourself or your memories anymore.

***

Many years since that time have passed. While you were still plagued with the harsh thoughts, you had help. You went to therapy twice a week and it really did help with your situation. You even were able to go to work and interact a bit with people. It wasn’t easy, but you wanted to get better with everything again. You wanted to talk to people, you wanted to look into someone’s eyes, you wanted to do things everyone deemed as completely normal, but…you couldn’t. There still was a huge shadow behind you, holding you back, but every day you were working on making it smaller. It was hard and frustrating and sometimes you failed.

Today was one of those days, the ones where you failed. It wasn’t fault though, it wasn’t your fault that the concrete underneath you was breaking, the windows of the buildings beside you completely shattered. The people around you obviously running for their life, desperate screams and huffs leaving them.

The glasses you always wore had fallen off at the intense earthquake. You didn’t know if it was an earthquake or quirk and you didn’t care. The only important thing for you at that moment were your glasses. The moment you lost them you were already on the floor, reaching around you with closed eyes, only to get your hands stepped on. Panic spread around your body, uncontrollably shaking you through. You slowly backed up to a wall of a building, eyes tightly pressed together and hands hovering over them. Your breath was unsteady, either too quick or non-existent for a few moments.

The steps around you, the screams, everything seemed so far away that you didn’t even notice the noises dying down. You didn’t notice the person coming towards you with a crazy smirk, not even when they were leaning over you, breathing heavily on the top of your head.

“Look at me, doll,” he said with a rough voice. You froze immediately, a broken sob forcing its way out of you, followed by a small whimper. Would you die here? “I said look at me.” The anger in his voice was very clear and you cursed yourself for still existing.

You didn’t answer, didn’t even move and that fuelled his anger even more. A hand littered in scars made its way under your jaw, gripping you tightly and squishing your cheeks a little. He forced your head up, ripped your hands from your eyes. Small whimpers and short breaths left you as you opened your eyes slowly.

It had been a long time since you saw the city without your glasses, even if you still didn’t see colours. It was beautiful, but you couldn’t focus on that right now. For a split second your eyes met his, immediately closing again. His grip on you faltered, slightly softening as he came closer to you.

“Y-you’re my soulmate? You?”, his voice wasn’t anything above a whisper, you could barely hear him. A shaky breath left your lips, thinking about your options. You nodded your head slowly, as much as you could. You felt disgusting, dirty with his hands and eyes on you.

The next moments happened quickly, your brain couldn’t even keep up with what was happening. Suddenly his hand moved around your neck, picking you up by it as he stood up himself, dangling you over the ground by your throat. He pressed your back against his chest, turning to probably look at someone. His hand around your neck tightened lightly, was he talking to someone? Was someone else there? Another villain? A hero?

Your eyes still tightly closed, hands gripping his to get him to let you go. You couldn’t properly breath, your legs weakly struggling to step on the broken concrete again. Your ears picked up a faint conversation, but the panic and the lack of air made it hard to focus on anything else than your fear of death. “I can’t just leave my soulmate here, now can I? That would be a shame, look how pretty she is. Struggling so cutely,” he growled to the other person, leaning down to your ear so you would hear him too. “Look over there, sweetheart. There’s a little hero, trying to save you. Show him your pretty eyes, come on.”

You swallowed hard and he felt it, tightening his grip on your throat. “Go on.” In his free hand was suddenly a knife and he slid it over your stomach, barely touching you with it. You slowly pried your eyes open, blinking a few times before looking for a spot near the hero so it would look like you were looking at him, but you weren’t. His grip tightened even more, completely cutting off your air. Your eyes teared up, blurring your view, your feet weakly hit his legs and your hands still tried to get his hands off you, but without success. The world around you slowly darkened and the last thing you felt was being thrown to the side and hitting the hard floor. A faint scream calling out for you, but it didn’t reach you soon enough.

***

Everything felt heavy and light at the same time, a bright light blinding you even through your eyelids. You knew opening your eyes would be a pain, but you had no choice. You took a few seconds to prepare yourself before finally opening them and being hit by the bright light directly. Slowly you lifted your hand to rub over them, looking to wake yourself up more. You slowly sat up on the hard bed and looked around the boring hospital room, confused as to why you were here.

“Good morning,” a smooth voice called from beside you, catching your attention immediately. Your head snapped to him and you were about to scream out in fear, but before you could you locked eyes with him. The moment you did, everything around you started to get colour. His red eyes and hair were the first things that you saw in colour.

He was obviously just as shocked as you were, eyes open wide and scanning over your body wildly. His expression changed from surprised to confused, eyes stopping at your beautiful ones. “I thought you were...,” he started, but quickly stopped himself from saying more. He bit his very soft looking, pink lips and that was the first time you saw his sharp teeth.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his, it was the first time you wanted to stare at someone for as long as you could. After a few moments of silence you started to tell him about your quirk and how it affected the villain, thankfully. He made sure to ask if this whole soulmate thing between the two of you was real, which hurt your feelings a bit, but of course you answered truthfully, with a small nod and a smile.

Making a conversation with him was easy, he was so happy, so motivated to get to know you. Shy, but so eager to finally get to meet and talk to you. He was quite proud that he had saved you and you were quick to praise and thank him. The two of you talked and talked until his phone rang, interrupting him from telling you about one of his friends. You supposed it was another friend, the goofy smile on his lips as he stood up from his seat and walked around the room, the whispered “I found my soulmate, Bakugou.” It was amusing to see him talking to him, a light red shade spreading on his cheeks as he continued talking to his friend. Sometimes you could even hear yelled responses from the phone, but Kirishima’s calm expression made you giggle softly. Just what were you getting into, having a soulmate with so many friends, so much energy and so much to tell? The only thing you knew that it was going to be fun and never boring. Not with him.

The day you got your quirk was the day your life became hell, but the day you got to meet your sweet soulmate Kirishima Eijirou was the day your hell slowly became heaven.

----

this was so much fun to write and it’s the first thing i ever wrote with like,,,more than 1500 words???so that’s really awesome and i hope i did well!! i love my kiri very very much and i hope i got his character right in this one, even though he wasn’t that much in it,,, anywAy i really really hope you enjoyed reading this and read the stories from my friends too!!!

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero acadamy #bnha kirishima #mha kirishima #bnha kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha fluff #soulmate!au

[rayshippouuchiha]

god the follow up with jiraiya kills me both because godammit jiraiya you fucked up but also because whats gonna happen when he gets there. that is, what is GAARA going to do when he realizes this guy is here because He Lost Naruto? gaara: i promised naruto i would stop killing people who annoyed me But Im Willing To Make A Fucking Exception

Gaara isn’t sure, exactly, what he was expecting when he was summoned to the Council Chambers directly after returning to the village.

He hasn’t killed anyone inside of the village since before the failed invasion and since Rasa’s death and all that had followed, he’s been attempting to … turn over a new leaf he believes is the way the saying goes.

To protect Suna and its people, to prove himself more than the monster he spent so long trying to be, has become Gaara’s driving force.

‘Well,’ Gaara can’t help but think more than a bit wryly, a hand coming up to press against the pocket sown into the inner folds of his top and the treasure it holds safely against his heart, ‘that is, perhaps, not entirely accurate.’

Gaara’s true driving force is a great deal more … focused.

Either way he’s been making a concentrated effort to be better than he once was so a summons to the Council Chamber is more than a bit unexpected.

Stepping inside and coming face to face with none other than Jiraiya of the Sannin is even more unexpected.

There’s a few minutes of obligatory introductions, the Council making ingratiating small talk and the like, but Gaara stands silent in the center of it all.

He never once takes his eyes off of Jiraiya even as a prickle of unease traces down his spine.

Finally the Council trails out of the room, surprisingly comfortable with leaving Gaara alone with the Sannin.  Or, more than likely, less than eager to be trapped in a room with the both of them on the off chance violence erupts.

Normally Gaara would hold his silence but there’s a prickling down his spine and a curiosity and unease itching at his brain that prompts him to speak.

“Tell me,” Gaara says softly, “Jiraiya of the Sannin, where is Uzumaki Naruto?”

Across the way Jiraiya’s brows furrow and his mouth thins. 

“That,” Jiraiya says after a too long pause, “is actually what I came here to ask you.”

Gaara’s already rigid posture stiffens even more.

In the back of his mind Shukaku stirs in discontent but Gaara presses the urge down ruthlessly.

He can’t, won’t, attack the Sannin.

Not when he knows exactly who he is to Naruto.

Not unless or when Naruto tells him otherwise.

Because if Naruto were to ever give the word, if he ever even hinted that he would prefer Jiraiya or anyone else gone…

Well.

“Explain.” The demand comes out as more of a hiss than a word, like a kettle steadily building steam.

“Look,” Jiraiya reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “me and the kid we had a …. disagreement and he took off.  He won’t go back to Konoha, at least not for a while, so I figured … he talked about you.  A lot actually.  Said you were friends.  I figured if he went anywhere that wasn’t Konoha, it’d be here.  To you.  So if he asked you to act like he isn’t here, if you’re housing him, I’d like to know so we can put this behind us.”

Gaara stays silent, mind whirling like the desert sands.

Naruto had … run away?

The very thought feels almost blasphemous somehow.

So Gaara very carefully doesn’t answer Jiraiya outright.

Instead he just inclines his head in Jiraiya’s direction, a gesture ambiguous enough to hopefully buy him some time.

“Naruto was very … excited about traveling with you,” Gaara states quietly and just the slightest bit leading.  “He was very upset when he left you.”

Gaara has no doubt about that.

Jiraiya’s wince is rather surprisingly poorly hidden even as he holds his silence.

Yes, there is definitely more to this than is being said.

Gaara is certain, without a single shred of doubt, that there is more to the story.

And he also knows, as sure as the rising sun, exactly whose side his aid will fall on.

“The Council will provide you with rooms,” Gaara finally says, already turning towards the door.  “Refresh and rest yourself.  I will return to my rooms and see if a … resolution of some sort can’t be found.”

“Tell the kid I’m not upset,” Jiraiya tells him, something like grief or guilt flashing across his face, tugging the wide set of his shoulders down for a split second.  “Tell him I’m … just tell him to come see me.  Soon.”

Gaara doesn’t answer, just keeps moving.

 ~~~

A hour later finds Gaara in his own rooms, settled down in his customary place by the window.

The apartment is empty around him as it always is.

Even though he has made some progress with Temari and Kankuro both Gaara still lives on his own in a set of rooms in a more secluded part of the Compound.  So many years on his own, pressed into isolation, makes the very idea of sharing a living space with his siblings … unsettling.

His hand comes up to press against his heart again, a move that’s quickly become second nature to him over the past months.

“Uzumaki Naruto,” Gaara whispers to himself, to the stillness of his home, to the watching moon.  “What was done to drive you away and where have you gone?”

Because he’s not here with Gaara no matter how certain Jiraiya seems to be that Gaara would be Naruto’s first stop.

Gaara, on the other hand, is rather certain he knows better.

He likes to think that months of letters being exchanged has given him a certain degree of insight into his first and only friend.

No one had been more surprised than he when Naruto’s first letter had arrived only weeks after they’d last seen each other.

But Gaara had read that letter with a mix of helplessness and elation bubbling to life inside of him.

And then he’d written back.

And things had spiraled from there.

And now Gaara has a chest set aside solely to hold Naruto’s letters as well as copies of the ones he himself had sent to his friend, each copy carefully dated and stored away in their proper order.

The only thing out of place is …

Gaara reaches into his top and removes his prized possession from the hidden and reinforced pocket he always keeps it in.

It is, after all, the first gift he’s received since he killed Yashamaru.

It’s nothing extravagant, just a thin piece of lacquered wood, simple and unremarkable really.

But it’s what was painstakingly engraved on it that matters to Gaara.

Because pressed into the wood is a single, perfect spiral.

An Uzumaki Clan Spiral Gaara knows now.

And nestled, cradled, in the very center of that spiral is a familiar kanji.

Ai.

Love.

His kanji.

The symbolism had been enough to take Gaara’s breath away when he’d first seen it.  He still feels a little breathless every time he looks at it even after all this time.

‘It’s you and me,’ the letter Naruto had enclosed it in had explained. ‘My spiral and your tattoo.  Now we can be together no matter how far apart we are.’

And in that moment Naruto had disarmed him completely without even trying.

With a nearly silent sigh, Gaara brings the token up, presses his lips against the smooth edge of the wood, and then tucks it back into his top.  A comforting ritual now complete.

He doesn’t know what’s happened between Jiraiya and Naruto but he does know where his loyalties lie.

And so he knows exactly what he’ll do.

He’ll do everything in his power to buy Naruto time.

Perhaps he’ll be able to stall long enough to give Naruto even more of a head start on his journey.  Maybe he’ll be able to ensure that Naruto has more time to put even more distance between himself and whatever it is Jiraiya has done to hurt him.

It is the very least that Gaara can do.

For Naruto.

His friend.

The one who gave him a new way of life.

His driving force.

Besides, if Gaara doesn’t hear from Naruto soon, he’ll just have to set out and  look for his friend himself.

It’s not like there’s anyone in the village who could stop him.

~~~

Weeks later a letter embossed with a familiar seal makes its way into Gaara’s hands.

He smiles.

#Naruto #Team Uzumaki AU #Anonymous #RayRambles #Team Uzumaki AU Drabble

[gerberbabey]

sad saturdays | kiara carrera

2nd part of cocaine. this goes out to that one anon. 

masterlist | cocaine series : 1 | 3 

summary: Kie spends her Saturday inside. 

warnings: more of that gay shit, im high so the writing is bad (well the writings always bad), angst, cursing, mentions of depression, more of me being collectively obsessed w both Euphoria and Outerbanks

♫ Sad Saturdays by JOBA ♫

Kie wondered if perhaps she should call 911. Her chest was hurting so much that she was so sure it was a heart attack. She’d even stayed up at 3 AM  googling everything she was feeling and what it could possibly mean but she only ended up self-diagnosing herself with cancer. It probably wasn’t cancer.

“Kie...sweetheart?” her mom stood at her doorway. 

Kie hummed from where she was buried under her covers. 

“Baby, do you need anything?” 

“Mmmno...”

Kie waited for her door to shut before she peaked over her shoulder to see if her mom had actually left. Seeing that the woman was gone, Kie sighed and turned over to lay on her back. She tried to think about the last time she felt this terrible. Physically she was probably fine, she’d felt worse before (the pain in her chest really wasn’t the worst of it). Emotionally and mentally? That one was kind of hard to pinpoint. 

Her generation was practically founded on not being the mentally strongest. As fucked up as that sounded, considering how depressing shit was because of the older generation, she thought she was pretty justified in her thinking. She didn’t want to think too hard about it. 

“Fuck....” she mumbled as she felt her lip quiver. 

Kie sucked in her cheeks and tried to blink away the tears gathering at her eyes. 

She’d been in bed for 3 days now. Meaning it’s been 3 days since she kissed you and ran. Kie instructed her mom that if anyone came around she didn’t want to see them. Kie’s mom was reluctant of course, she didn’t want her daughter isolating herself willingly when she knew that being alone was something she’d struggled with before. But she followed her daughter’s wishes. 

Even if that meant turning you away more than once in the past three days. __________________

“Sexuality is a spectrum. It’s not like anyone’s 100% straight or 100% gay.” 

Kie made a face as she laid her head against your shoulder. The two of you had started binge-watching Euphoria as soon as all the episodes had gotten released and it was now 3 am and the two of you were well into the show. 

“There are people who are definitely 100% gay,” Kie argued and you hummed in response, trying to pay attention to both her and the show, “One of my cousins is 100% gay. Women do not and could not ever do it for him.” 

You paused the show as you realized you couldn’t multitask in this situation. 

“I don’t think she even really realizes what she’s saying Kie,” you explained once you noticed how bothered Kie seemed to be by the line. Kie didn’t even really understand it herself but she was heated. Kie wasn’t really one for staying in and watching shows. If anything your entire friend group tended to not stay in and do stuff like that. You and the boys didn’t really have subscriptions to streaming services (sometimes you didn’t even have working cable to watch TV) yet you had seen the trailers for the show and had insisted that the two of you watch it. Kie couldn’t really say no to you. 

“I don’t know, for a show that’s representing so much, that seems really out of place. I don’t know what the writers were thinking.”

“I mean Maddy’s a character who’s just trying to calm her aggressive abusive boyfriend down. I don’t think she herself understands what “Sexuality is a spectrum’ means. I don’t think the writers are putting it off as anything bad.” 

Kie could feel herself calming down as you spoke to her. You had that weird effect on her. 

“Do you get what it means?” the question came out before she could even really think about it and Kie felt her chest tighten up in instant regret.

As open as the Pogues were with one another, it was just different when it came down to deep shit. JJ despised talking about his dad, Pope rarely opened up about his anxiety and the pressure he felt, the topic of Kie’s year at the Kook academy wasn’t even an option, John B denied any negativity on the topic of his father, and you avoided even saying the words “mom” or “dad” when it came to your own parents.

The topic of sexuality wasn’t exactly a common conversation topic. 

Kie wasn’t sure what she was afraid of. Would you connect the question back to her sexuality? Would that connection reveal her feelings for you? Would you scoff at the idea of believing Kie loved you?

She knew that she wasn’t afraid of any type of homophobia. Especially not from you. 

“Yeah I mean remember when Kat was explaining it to her. She said at the end of each spectrum is gay and straight. Maddy probably just understood wrong cus her boyfriend’s an asshole. But yeah like sexuality is a spectrum,” Kie blinked at that, “I mean like I’ve never dated a girl but I’m not on the 100% straight part of the spectrum. If being gay was a choice, I wouldn’t like men at all.”

Kie didn’t really accomplish much that night. You were still opposed to the idea of love. You still didn’t know about her feelings. Nothing had really changed. 

But that night, Kie felt happier than she had in a while. 

________

Kie recalled the episode of Euphoria where Rue had gone through a depressive episode and it led to a kidney infection. Kie was terrified of the idea as a whole and had forced herself to get up and use the bathroom. 

Pushing the bathroom door open she dragged her feet as she made her trek back to her room. It was at the most a few feet but damn did it make her tired. Her head felt heavy on her shoulders and her body ached. She wouldn’t be surprised if she’d somehow caught a fever in the midst of all of this. She’d forced her body through an entirely different routine for the past three days. 

“Jesus Kie.”

Kie jumped at that and nearly screamed at the sight of JJ. 

“Shit! JJ what the hell are you doing here?! You scared the fuck out of me!” 

“Sorry jeez,” JJ put his hands up in defense, “We were worried and your mom wasn’t letting anyone see you so I snuck in through your back door,” JJ’s casual way of speaking left Kie speechless.

“What the fuck JJ....Don’t you have like work? Or something better to do on a Saturday than break into my house?” 

“Well I have today off actually. John B and Pope are both working and (Y/N)’s sick too so I don’t-”

“Wait what?” Kie backtracked for a moment, “(Y/N)’s sick?” 

“Yeah I mean I don’t know-”

“How do you not know JJ!” 

“I just-I don’t know, (Y/N) just said she was sick, why are you yelling at me?!”

Kie pressed her hands to her face in frustration. Even when you weren’t around her you were still somehow affecting her emotionally. 

“JJ I really cannot have you here right now ok, I need you to go,” Kie motioned to her door but JJ wasn’t having it. Kie hadn’t spoken to any of them in the past 3 days and he knew it had something to do with you. You weren’t telling him anything either but he was more observant than you thought. You had fallen off the face of the earth at the exact same time as Kie and the only time you responded to any of his texts was when you were telling him you couldn’t hang out with the Pogues because you needed to check on Kie. 

“No ok I’m not dumb, did something happen between you and (Y/N)? Are you two fighting or something?”

“No JJ-”

“Then what? Did someone break the fucking girl code?”

“NO!”

“Did she hook up with a guy you called dibs on-”

“I KISSED HER!” 

Kie sucked in a breath as she and JJ looked at each other in the eye. The shock was clear on his expression.

“I kissed (Y/N)...because,” Kie’s shoulders shook, “Because I love her. But she-she won’t love me back.”

“What...you don’t know that Kie,” JJ tried to soothe as Kie began to sob, her hands shaking. 

“I do, ok, I do know. (Y/N) has been...hurt so much, and I wish I could help her fucking love again, as cheesy as that sounds, but she has been pretty straightforward about how she feels about crap like that.”

JJ clenched his jaw and fidgeted with his hands. He was completely out of his element in this type of situation. He wasn’t exactly the best example of anything that regarded relationships or even opening up about feelings and here was his best friend venting to him about his other best friend. If he was being completely honest he thought he was going to have this conversation with Pope about Kie, not Kie about you. 

“I love her JJ...” Kie sobbed and JJ licked his lips then his eyes and attention flickered off to the side at the sight of movement. 

Kie turned at that and back into her room and nearly into JJ at the sight of you standing in her doorway. 

You bit at your cheek as you looked at the two of them. 

“Hey Kie....” 

part 3? 

#kiara carrera x reader #kie carrera x reader #kie x reader #outerbanks imagine #kiara carrera #obx imagine #outerbanks #fem!reader #f/f imagine #gaaay #euphoria references #the #sexuality is a spectrum #scene #jj maybank #pope heyward #john b routledge #madison bailey #x reader #reader insert #imagine #romance fic #angst fic #this is literally terrible HAH #outerbanks fanfiction #outerbanks fanfic #outer banks imagine #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks romance

[sloppy-butcher]

I saw your requests were open,if not I’m sorry :,). But can I get some hcs with Frank,Dwight (Jake and/or Quentin) with a s/o who’s a short curvier artist and is just insecure about themselves and their work? I’m just in sad boy hours rn lmao

please don’t ever feel sorry about sending in an ask

Sorry, it took as long, I can’t help with how much I write. Hopefully, this will help alleviate some of them sad boy hours. I’m going to assume that by “artist” you mean drawing and not like music soooo also im going to assume its a survivor S/O

i love you anon, thank you for the ask and sorry again for the wait

sad boy hours is offically declared OVER

HeadCanons with a short, insecure Artist S/O

The Legion (Frank Morrison)

Frank, in all honesty, doesn’t give a flying crap about how you look. To him, if you can make him laugh or you amuse him in the slightest, he already likes you. The only looks or appearances he does care about are his own, he’s gotta look badass 24/7, no exceptions. But he does like that you are shorter than him (not a lot of people are so you are a rarity). He likes to tease you and put his elbow on your shoulder or head.

“I need my walking stick.” His eyes would trail over to you. Cue you trying to walk around with the boy hanging onto you, grumbling like an old man. You contrasted him exactly to the T

Frank is absolutely fascinated by your artistic abilities. You have a real talent and he enjoys both watching your process and seeing the finished project. Talent like yours was hard to come by, he sort of envied you for it. If only he had that kind of something that made him special that would have made those foster parents interested in him. But that time for developing uniqueness has passed and now, all he has is you.

You shared your talent with him and he felt extremely special when you would ask him what to sketch next. Frank would pull Suzie over and set her up in a position he imagines to be cool. He would pause, inspect Suzie’s bad form then huff and begin to rearrange her limbs until she was just right. “That's nice.” He’d comment over your shoulder. You’d tell him you didn't like being watched like that while you work and he’d sigh and reluctantly shuffle away. Not even 5 minutes later he would be back standing over you. You would just have to deal with him. He wasn’t judging you or your skills rather he just wanted to watch and marvel at how easy you made it look.

“Okay, now give her a huge dick.” Both Suzie and you would gasp. “Frank! No! That's too disgusting.” A moment of silence. “How big?”

Frank noticed right away when you would start to feel insecure. When you would flatly refuse to take out your sketchbook regardless of what ridiculous poses Suzie would make for you. You were quiet, eyes downwards and shoulder slumping as if you were trying to make yourself somehow smaller than you already were. Frank’s by no means an emotional guy but seeing you so downtrodden, so determined to sink into the background really tore at his heartstrings. He would pull you aside, taking you far away from the others until you two were alone. You wouldn’t look at him, your arms wrapped around yourself. “It’s not just the art.” He was guessing but already he knew he was right. You wouldn’t even offer him a nod afraid that by doing so you would be labeled as someone digging for feigned sympathy.

This was so difficult for Frank. He didn’t know how to comfort you or how to make you feel better. He also didn’t understand where this sudden insecurity came from. To him you perfect and talented and such a good person. You had a kind heart which you would share with those around you and that's all he really cared about. You were good to him. He couldn’t think of anything to say so instead he walked closer to you and slowly placed your hand between his. You momentarily looked up at him and you saw his eyes flicker behind his mask. He squeezed your hand, his words failing but his contact and pressure making up for it. He was trying to be reassuring and you appreciated it. He’d only ever hold your hand and that was something to be gratefully for.

In that time alone he asked you to take out your sketchbook. You did and he steps away, releasing one hand from yours. He reaches up and hesitantly takes off his mask. “Draw me.” You were stuck, in awe of his face and the significance of this moment. Frank never takes his mask off, not completely anyway. This must really mean something to him, YOU must really mean something. A wave of unsureness washed over you and you lost all confidence in your skill. He saw you slip away again and he squeezed his hand. “Hey.” He makes you look at him, his face gentle and his attention focused solely on you. “I believe in you. You are good. You got this.” And that's all you needed to hear. You got the feeling that he was talking about more than just your drawing skills. If he believed in you then everything was okay. You were alright. “Besides. It can’t be worse than the original.”

Dwight Fairfield

Like Frank, Dwight doesn't really care about your outward appearances. Well, it's not that he doesn't care it’s more that he just in a constant state of shock that anyone at all is interested in him. He’s always amazed when you sit next to him specifically or when you want to talk to him and actually listen to what he says. No one has ever really given him that kind of attention before and now you’re here beside him eagerly wanting to hear how his day was or what he was feeling. Dwight was just grateful to have someone as kind and loving as you were to even notice him.

He was beyond blown away by your artistic talents. You can sketch killers from memory and Dwight always finds himself in awe of how detailed and accurate the drawing was. You were so creative and special, the thing he was never. He looked to you and saw everything he could never be or never was. But you didn’t shove your achievements in his face, you didn't flaunt your talents like some egotistical morons would. You were humble and his compliments never went straight to your head. You looked so good when you were kind and modest. He liked how ordinary you were regardless of how awesome you appeared to him.

You’d often ask to draw him and he would blush and look away. Why would you want to draw him? The most boring of all the other survivors. But you were insistent and eventually, he’d cave. If only you had a red pencil because his cheeks were always hot and flushed. He could never make eye contact with you while you worked on him so expect a lot of side profiles or closed eye portraits.

In trials together his heart would all but break at the sight of you getting hurt. Whenever he’d hear your cries as you’d be slammed onto a meat hook he would gasp and practically feel something inside him cry out along with you. You were too good for this. He was a nobody, a weak, pathetic nobody who deserved to be in this purgatory because he was too scared to try and live a normal life. This was his punishment for being so forgettable. But you... he just couldn’t understand it.

Once he had jumped between you and your pursuer taking the hit and aggression while you ran off to go heal. For once in his life he felt happy, he felt as if he had finally done something meaningful and good. He had saved you. He would have died for you as well but you never let that happen. He watched in utter shock and disbelief as, against all odds, you went back for him. You pulled the man off his hook and with shaking hands you pressed his head into yours. Both your foreheads with touching and you had your hand at the back of his head.

“Don’t ever do that again.” He felt you waver and suddenly he realized that you were scared for him. He felt your urgency and terror and it was all directed towards him and his safety. He could have cried.

Dwights not the brightest bulb in the pack so forgive him but it will take a while for him to realize that you were insecure. He just assumed that when you started isolating yourself from him that it was because you had found someone much better than him. But he noticed that your hands still shook whenever you’d see him in pain and you would always be by his side the moment he needed help. You still cared for him deeply and he could feel it through your desperate actions and your desolate expression.

He walked over to your spot at the campfire. No one was near you, all were chased away by your depressing aura. You were dark and dying, everything around you was heavy with despair and sorrow yet he pushed through it all. He clawed away that thick fog and finally came to rest by your side. You didn't even look at him as he approached.

“Y-You don’t draw anymore.” No response. He hesitated unsure of how best to comfort you. He looked over and saw your hands. They were so small and gentle yet they produced such amazing things. He missed seeing you alive as you worked, the happiest you had ever been. He reached out and took your hands in his. This was the most forward he had ever been with you and it caught you by surprise. You turned to face him and you saw pain in his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry.” he paused and looked away, ashamed. “I’m sorry I took so long to notice.”

Dwight really did feel sorry. He felt like he had abandoned you, leaving you vulnerable and alone with the true killer; yourself. This time you felt his hands shake.

Dwight wasn’t much but he was yours and he loves you. And he loved you so much to maybe even make up for your own lack of self-love. You sighed and rested your head on his shoulder. He was enough.

“Please draw me again. I-I promise I won’t look away this time.” How could you refuse him?

Jake Park

Jake’s a simple man. He knows the silence of the world and prefers it to the company of people. So when you start to hang out with him or show interest in his life he is pretty unresponsive. He expected you to eventually lose curiosity in him and leave him alone with the woods. But you didn’t.

You’d follow him around, asking questions and receiving minimal answers. You would ask him what to draw and when you were done he would just glance at the sketch then nod or huff. He was certainly a very difficult and cold man.

You would draw many things for him, be it crows or plants or sometimes even killers. And he would always show an extreme lack of interest in them. So you decide to stop showing him. The two of you would sit in a quiet spot in the woods, you sketching and him wondering why you were still trying so hard to be friends with him.

You were working on a portrait when you were, without warning, whisked off into a trial. You quickly shoved your art into your pocket and set to work trying to escape. Jake was in the trial with you and you gladly worked on gen with him. Minutes later everyone was dying and only 2 generators had been lit. It wasn’t looking so good but the only thing you were worried about was your precious item in your pocket. It was something that you were really proud of and, to be dead honest, it was one of the best pieces of art you had made in a long time. You were afraid to die and lose it. But... it really didn’t look like you were getting out of this one.

You caught Jake in a corner, injured but not making a noise. You approached him and he reached out ready to tend to your wounds. You shook your head and crouched next to him trying to catch your breath. Your hand went into your pocket and pulled out your folded artwork. he eyed it unsure.

“I know you don’t care about my bad drawings but,” you held it out for him to take. “please, this one’s for you.” You quickly ran off, too embarrassed to be there when he opened it.

He was frozen for a moment, confused as to what just happened. He did care about your drawings. You were talented and he really enjoyed when you included him. Why would you think that he wouldn’t like them? He turned his attention back to the paper. With a bloody hand, he carefully unfolded it and was shocked to find a portrait of him. It was so beautiful, delicate lines used to define his face and his far-off expression and for a second he couldn’t believe it was him. It was so well done. How could you be ashamed of showing him this? He loved it. He looked up and saw you run off and his heart run with you. He was suddenly hit with his suppressed love for you. You were patient and kind and your small stature always made him wonder how anyone could hurt something so cute. He escaped that trial along with your picture. He, unfortunately, couldn’t save you.

Later at your spot in the woods, he approached you. He presented your art and you gasped. “How’d you get that!?” You reached out to take it back. “I’m sorry! It’s...” your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He must think you are such a creep, drawing bad pictures of him without his knowledge.  You clutched the paper to your chest and felt a wave of hot insecurity flood over you. But Jake never let you drown.

“It’s really good,” Jake said, his voice the most emotional and vibrant it had ever been. “I’m sorry if I never expressed my appreciation of it.” He put a hand on your shoulder. “You’re really good... to me. And,” he paused letting go for a moment and taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant. Thank you for sticking around.” It wasn’t much but it was the best he could do. There was a deep-rooted honestly in his confession and it pulled at your heart.

It wasn’t enough to make you feel better but it was a start. With Jake, it is a journey of recovery, not a once-off end-all fix. But he was good at consistency and was always there the moment your fears reared their ugly heads. He was warm and solid, grounding both himself and you in the world.

#dbd imagines #dbd headcanons #dbd x reader #dbd frank morrison #dbd dwight fairfield #dbd jake park

[marvinswriting]

Gut feeling

Prompt: no prompt in this one buddies, just check out bear's borrower!janis au. Like my g/t mg au its something i thought about a lot but never officially put down anywhere, but she did and you fucking bet im gonna write it

This is a long one boys, and there's still more i wanna write lmfao

Think about everything you know about borrowers-

-and throw it out the fucking window.

Yep, fuck your stereotypes. I'm Janis, and yeah I guess your right about the whole tiny-people-who-live-in-walls-and-steal. You're also creepily accurate with your borrower's code (so I wanna know who blabbed. Probably Gretchen, god. I always wonder where she was before this house). I'm sidetracked. Other then that, you guys got it all wrong. 

We are very much aware of the concept of not all humans wanna kill or harm borrowers. Thank you very much. 

We just know most of them do.

And we aren't as rare as you may think. Lots of humans know about borrowers, and you all think we're a dying species or a myth. No. We're just good at what we do, thank you. The goal is to live undetected. It's safer that way.

We also don't live totally alone, isolated in walls. Well, some of us do, and some of us wish we did. (Me, it's me, I hate my roommates.)

I live with Gretchen and Kevin. Won't call them friends, because they're not. We aren't close enough. We keep each other around because we'd go insane without the interaction from others. A borrowers life can be boring and isolated.

Its the total opposite of a human's. When the owners of the house sleep, we're awake doing food runs. When the owners of the house are awake, we're hiding away, tucked in bed.

And for a long time that worked. But then something changed. I think the owners of the house called it 'the school year ended'? Now the boy, Damian- from what we've gathered he's our age. But who knows, it's not like we can just go up and meet him. He definitely seems to be the most sympathetic one of the family. 

The dad kills any fucking bug without even getting a good look, so like- don't get caught with him (not that you wanna get caught with any of them). 

The mom watches a lot of gory sci-fi shows that always end up with the main character in some type of experimental facility so we don't trust her. 

Damian just hides in his room, playing music and singing along. I like it, its harder for us to be heard that way. 

The final member of the household is the fucking cat. Her name is Ariel which is supposedly a reference to some princess, but the only royal she is is a royal pain. Little bitch almost killed me once. 

I'm so off track though. 

Apparently, this 'school year' is over, and now Damian is home all the time. He doesn't have to get up early to leave so he's opted to not sleeping at night at all. Which is just great for us. He doesn't often leave his room, but Gretch, Kevin, and I have to be a lot more careful often resulting in us grabbing a lot less.

I glance around my 'bedroom'. Through the years I like to think it's grown to be decorated nicely. Unlike my two roommates, I pride myself in my living space. I spend most of my time here, so why not. Yeah, I have the necessities, but I also have other things like plants and makeshift art supplies. In the corner of my room is what you could call a bed and a bottle cap nightstand. There's a piece of a mirror hanging. We all found mirror shards and took them, and might I say life hasn't quite been the same since. 

We don't really look at ourselves that often, there aren't many reflective surfaces to do so. Yeah, I'd catch my face staring back at me in my water, or on a shiny surface, but it was never as clear as the mirror. As I look right now, I just look stressed.

Pretty accurate.

I've got a weird feeling about tonight.

"We need food."

"No shit Gretchen." 

Gretchen and I are sitting in our combined space, waiting for Kevin. I'm hesitant to call it a living room because it hardly looks lived in. There are four beer cap chairs (and three of us, it's fucking stupid- I know) a pizza saver as a table, and a bunch of miscellaneous items that haven't found a home yet.

"Hubbards are asleep." Kevin walks out from where he was keeping watch. "The kids light is still on and I couldn't locate the cat, are we sure we want to go out tonight."

"We need food," Gretchen repeats herself.

"We don't have much of a choice," I say, shoving makeshift grappling hooks and double-sided tape into my satchel, and grabbing another bad for food. "We gotta make a big run tonight. We can't guarantee a day by day flow anymore, Damian has to unpredictable of a sleep schedule."

Gretchen makes a noise of agreement, packing up her own things.

Kevin is still peaking out of the exit into the household, worriedly. 

"Janis are you down for that trip tonight? You look stressed as fuck."

I bitterly. "Yeah, I'm just- tired. And hungry. And quite frankly I may be coming down with something."

"They stay away from me," Gretchen says, swinging her bag over her shoulder. "Ready?"

"Let's just grab food and go," Kevin says before spinning around to look at me. "Only food, Janis."

I nod. No point in trying to defend myself when he's not wrong. I have an awful habit of finding something I could use for art and going out of my way to grab it.

But we have priorities tonight. 

We file out into the household, all pressing against the wall. The exit we used lead right to the floor. Its a debate on which was riskier, but I for one, preferred to be higher. Further from the cat and a better view of everything. Kevin mumbled something about keeping watch and made his way over to the island table the Hubbard had. He pulled out his climbing supplies and made his way up as Gretchen and I continued our trek across the floor, waiting to reach the kitchen to get to higher grounds. 

"It hasn't been this hard since we all moved here." Gretchen says quietly, but I understand.

"Yeah." I whisper.

We all moved into this house together maybe two ago. We tell time by the day and the decor around the house. Humans often put of decorations for holidays and it's like marking points though the year. My least favorite holiday happens during the summer. I don't know the name but everything turns red white and blue and there's tons of loud booms and explosions. It kills my ears and sends me into sensory overload every time.

 We've pasted two Christmases. I don't know much about the holiday, but its the most decorated, with fancy trees and cookie crumbs everywhere. A borrower's dream. But it wasn't like that now. It was hot and sticky, food got left out on the counter less. We haven't eaten anything more then the minimum to survive, if you don't count yesterday where we didn't eat at all. 

I was so lost in my thought for food, I almost didn't hear it. Kevin calling out, the patter of paws on the floor-

-oh shit. 

I whirl around just in time to have a paw whacked with my side. 

Cat.

There was no claw, Ariel is here for a game of cat and mouse obviously. Roles already clear. 

That didn't make it hurt less though.

I groan skidding across the floor, curled into myself. 

Gretchen shrieks and runs away, the cat's interest on me.

She left me for fucking dead.

Wow.

Rude, but unsurprising.

I'd fucking bolt too. I wonder if Kevin ran as well. 

My heart stops as the truth of the statement catches up to me. 

I'm gonna die.

I'd like to say there's so much I still haven't done, or that my life had only just begun. But that wasn't true. I live to borrow another day and borrow to live another day. But I was content like that, I don't wanna die.

Ariel stalks towards me again. I sit up and push my self backward, only to find a wall.

Fuck.

I can see Gretchen duck back into the wall out of the corner of my eye, Kevin with her.

To be fair, I'd do the same. I can't bring myself to be too mad.

"Hey, kitty," I say softly, holding my hands out in defense. The cat sits down in front of me, eyes wide and pupils dilated, ready to play. "Ariel, right? Good kitty. I'm not a toy."

Ariel doesn't seem to get the message as she lifts her paw.

No!

"Hey, whatcha got there girl?" A voice comes from behind the cat. 

My blood runs colder than it already was. 

That was to loud to be Gretchen or Kevin, to masculine to be the mom, not deep enough to be the dad-

Hands pull Ariel away despite a mew of protest, leaving me totally exposed in the open. 

Put the cat back I'd rather die that way.

My eyes connect with the boy of the household- Damian. His gaze travels up and down my small form and he lets out breathy 'what?'.

Once again, I know not all humans are bad, but you try not even being four inches call, curled up against a wall with a full ass living moving human standing there. It's a lot.

Damian kneels down so he isn't towering over me but it doesn't feel any better. I push myself closer to the wall, ignoring the pain in my side.

"Are- I uh-" Damian seems as equally at a loss as I am. 

Don't worry buddy, I didn't think I'd be getting caught tonight either.

"Are you okay?"

I can't exactly say I've been caught before, so I don't exactly know the 'this is a bad guy' red flags, but asking about my well being probably isn't one of them. 

"Yeah." I say, shakily. My voice is weak and seems a lot quieter in contrast to the boy's in front of me.

"I'm sorry about her." Damian said, placing the cat down. Ariel glares at me before walking away, clearly bored.

I could tell we were dancing around the important questions. What are you? Why are you so small? What are you doing here?

"My name's Damian."

I almost say 'I know' but believe it or not- I do have manners and hey, this human hasn't killed you yet, don't be rude and give him a reason to.

"Janis." I say, giving a small wave. 

"Janis," Damian repeats like he's testing the name in his mouth. "It's pretty."

"Thank you." I glance around but as I suspected, my roommates did not even attempt to come back. 

"You're a borrower." Damian states. It wasn't a question and his voice sounded sure, but his raised eyebrow told a different story.

"Yeah, we're real, just-" I take a breath. "Uncommon?"

Damian nods. He knew what I was right off the bat which probably means I'll have less explaining to do. It also made me feel safer in a way. It meant he's less curious. Not to mention he has yet to move any closer or invade my space, so I felt okay. I push myself off the wall a bit, trying to ignore how my head spins a bit from lack of nutrients. 

"I'm sorry if I interrupted whatever you were doing. We'll leave if you don't want us here or-"

"No, it's okay. I honestly am glad I stepped in then I did- wait, we?"

Shit.

It was one thing to expose myself, but not I'm mentally hitting myself for exposing Gretchen and Kevin too.

"There are multiple of you?"

"Nonono forget I said anything." I wave my hand as if waving away nonexistent flies. 

Damian looks like he wants to press more but doesn't. "What are you doing out here? It's like, four am."

"It's still early for me. We- I need food." 

Damian's eyes light up. "Of course! Oh my god, I'm so sorry then. Do you-" He pauses. "Do you need help?"

My instinct is to decline but- there hasn't been much food out and Damian seems genuine. Its either die by cat or human. "Yeah, help would be nice."

Damian smiles softly. "Can I pick you up?"

What?

Oh.

Oh.

Yeah. 

Riiiight.

"Yeah, you can." I smile, trying to seem brave about this, but I've never been picked up before. The only time I'm off the ground is with my climbing tools with my fate in my own hands. 

Damian places his hand down next to me, it's huge. The sheer size difference doesn't sink in when somebody is crouched a couple of human feet away from you. 

I step onto his hand regardless, trying not to concentrate on how weird it feels. 

"You ready?" Damian's voice asked from above.

Was I ready?

Why did I think this was a good idea?

I could die right here right now.

I don't know anything about this kid other than his name and his favorite musical soundtrack. 

What if he's bad news?

"Yeah, I'm good." I say, despite my inner turmoil. 

The ground beneath me shifts and as much as I like to think I was mentally prepared, physically I was not as I ungracefully fall backward into Damian's palms.

"You okay?" He asks, freezing. 

He was as nervous as I was.

This sudden realization gave me a bit more confidence in the situation.

"Mhmm," I say, patting the hand beneath me gently. "Thanks."

"Of course." Damian says, and we're moving again. Its a significantly shorter trip from here to the kitchen for Damian. He holds me close to his chest, his fingers curled around me slightly. Its comforting, and contrary to what I expected, I don't feel ready to drop. I can see Ariel curled up contently on the couch, and the entrance to my home from here. One of them at least. I wonder if my roommates are watching or if they're already cleaning out my room. 

Damian places his hand on the table and I get off on my own.

It feels better up here, to be further up. I don't feel as small when Damian steps away. 

"You've made it clear it's just you," He does air quotes. "But how many people do you take food for."

The lie of 'it is only me' is the first thing on my tongue, but I hold it. Damian has done nothing but help me so far and he already knows there's multiple of us. No harm in giving exact numbers.

"Three," I say. "One with a big appetite." I smile as Kevin comes to mind. 

Damian grins. "What do you normally take?"

"Whatever is out." I shrug, glancing around at the table. Just like the past couple of times, the tables were empty.

Damian notices this and is silent for a bit. "I'll have to conveniently forget to put stuff back then." He says quietly. I can't tell if he was talking to me or himself but I smile nonetheless. 

"So, you've never had options?"

"No." I say. It feels weird to admit that. Damian grins. 

"Guess you're in luck. Wait here." He turns around and walks over to a cabinet. Where am I supposed to even go? 

His back isn't turned long enough to let me figure that out, because he soon comes back with two things. "So I brought this because I want you to try it," Its a cookie, I know that much from Christmas, but instead of decorative frosting and sprinkles its dotted with splotches of brown. "It's a chocolate chip cookie. And I brought this for practical reasons." He lifts up a bag. "Its granola and it comes in these little chunks- well for you they'd be big, but you can just break them off as you need!"

I smile at the thoughtfulness. Maybe this kid isn't all bad news. 

He opens the bag and pours a bit into his hand before placing one on the table. Sure enough, a cluster of granola is just big enough to fit maybe two into my bag. I can break off a piece and it will last days (assuming Kevin doesn't go to town).

"Woah." I say softly, picking it up. This is the most food I've ever even been near in one place. 

Damian chuckles as I carefully place the granola into my bag miraculously fitting three. One for each of us. Damian watches me silently, I guess we're both still stying to wrap our heads around the situation. 

"Oh! I almost forgot!" He picks up the cookie breaking off a piece and handing it to me. It's the size of my head but I can just save what's left for later. Damian takes the rest for himself, watching as I silently break a piece off to eat. 

It's grainy but smooth a the same time. Sweet and salty. It's-

"Woah." 

Damian laughs, its loud and sudden, but also contagious.

I giggle a bit as I feel my face flush. I know he's not laughing at me maliciously.

"They're good right?"

"Yeah." 

We fall into silence, and I look around. I've been up on the counters before, but I've always been in a rush, get food, and get out. I've never been this relaxed in the open and certainly never so close to a human. 

I look up at Damian and he smiles. "What are you gonna do now?"

"Huh?"

"I don't know how true the stories are but isn't this where you leave and never come back because you've been caught? I won't tell anyone if you don't want to leave."

He had a point. But- the borrower's code wasn't law. More like- recommended guidelines? I mean, not true at all, but it's not written in stone or anything. Borrower police aren't gonna break in and arrest me or anything.

I think.

Besides, I didn't want to leave. I liked my room and my roommates (not that I'd admit that to them). They don't need to know I met a human. And Damian said he wouldn't tell anyone-

"How do I know I can trust you?"

The question had a lot more of an edge then I expected, but Damian didn't seem to take offense. 

"You don't. But, follow your instincts. I'm not trying to trick you or anything if that's what your thinking."

He did help me get food. Which saved my life. He also saved me from the cat, which saved my life too. Even before he knew I existed, he always seemed to be the nicest Hubbard. Something tells me his word is good.

"I think I'm gonna stay," I say after a while.  "I'll just- never tell my roommates about this. One of them flips over everything. She'd pack in an instant if she knew."

Damian smiled. "I understand if you hope to never see me again and if you wanna just walk away like this never happened, but I'll be sure to leave granola out every once in a while."

I grin. "Thanks, Damian." It felt weird to be so close to a human and already trust them so much. Something deep inside told me that this wasn't the last time we'd see each other, and that's okay.

"I figure you can get down on your own? You don't want me to know where you live or anything."

I shook my head, patting my climbing tools. "I got this from here. Thank you so much for your help."

"Of course, Janis. I'll take Ariel to my room to make sure she doesn't cause any trouble. Maybe I'll see you around, hopefully not under any life or death circumstances though." Damian grins before walking away, leaving me alone in the kitchen. I can hear him call out to the cat followed by padding of paws as a door closes. I almost feel as if I've hallucinated the whole thing, but the weight of the granola in my bag proves to me otherwise. 

I begin to take out a hook and rope while I think of what I'm gonna tell my roommates. Gretchen will flip either way and I don't think Kevin will believe me that I was able to fend off a cat alone, but it's what I have to do if I don't want to move. Besides, deep down I feel like I can trust the teen of the Hubbard household. 

Let's just hope my gut isn't wrong. 

alt title: how borrower janis got hooked on granola tag list!!! @realmisspolarbear @musicallygt @smallsoysauce @sourishlemons

#you dont need to know jack shit about mean girls to read this one boys #borrower janis #tiny janis #giant damian #g/t mean girls #mg borrower au #g/t #Giant/tiny #giant tiny #g/t writing

[goldenmessenger]

TS Actor AU: Reach Out Your Hand Pt 1

Summary: Before recovery can come, you have to admit you have a problem first. In 2019, Roman’s been clean for about 6 years. In 2011, however? Clean is a long way away. He’s alone. Isolated. No-one to turn to. Except he might have one person. But Roman’s ignored him for the last 4 years. But then the voicemail comes.

Read on Ao3 here.

A/N: Hey everyone! So, I’m currently working on a multi-chapter fic set after the last two fics. But that’s probably going to take me a while. So in the meantime, have this fic that’s set 8 years before the others. This is some backstory on Roman, Remus, and Dillon, and how Roman got on the first steps to recovery. Also, I meant for this to be a one-shot, but it’s going to be a two-parter. It’s too long to post all at once. I apologize in advance for this, it’s really intense and a lot of whump and angst. I promise part 2 will make up for everything, and that’ll be up tomorrow.

As usual, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! And once again, I apologize.

Content Warnings: Drunken texts, drug abuse, drug overdose, mild violence (vague mention), self-deprecating thoughts and language, whump, angst

****************************

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Sent at 11:24pm

Text from (xxx) xxx-xxxx:

happhy B-day roe

its me Rekus

Remus

i gootta new phonee 

im sorry

iwas the worts 

woest

worsr 

Cant typw

To drukn 

Miss u tho

First b-day wit out u

Do u mis me to?

See u on th news

Got that moie 

Movie deal u wanted

Hop ur doin wel 

That ur happy

M not

Mis u

Love u

****************************

Friday, March 20, 2009

Sent at 2:00 pm

Text from (xxx) xxx-xxxx:

Hey Ro, happy birthday,

it’s me again. 

I wanna apologize for the mess that I sent last year. Thought you’d like to know I’m in a much better place now.

I’m in college in San Francisco, probably gonna live there after.

Gotta boyfriend, just like you always said you would if we didn’t have to deal with everyone’s expectations.

Went to therapy, boyfriend’s idea

Though he was just a best friend then

It’s been really helpful. 

I was so awful to you. 

I honestly wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to see me again

You don’t have to forgive me, I just want a chance to talk

If you want to meet up

Just let me know

****************************

Saturday, March 20, 2010

 Sent at 10:00 am

Text from (xxx) xxx-xxxx: 

Hey Ro

Happy birthday again. 

At this point, I know you probably won’t reply

This probably isn’t even your number anymore. 

I don’t know why I keep texting you though

Closure, perhaps?

An inability to let go?

Whatever it is, it’s kinda sad

I can’t stop though

If by any chance you are reading this, please respond

I don’t care if it’s to say you hate me, or never want to talk to me again, please

I need you

I need my brother

****************************

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Sent at 10:00 am

Text from (xxx) xxx-xxxx: 

Happy birthday Ro!

This will probably be the last time I text you. 

My boyfriend, Dillon, pointed out that if you were going to reply, you would’ve already

I need to move on

I need to heal 

I still love you though 

You’ll always be my brother

****************************

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Sent at 11:00 am

Text from (xxx) xxx-xxxx: 

Ro

Ro, what the hell?

I know I said that I wouldn’t text again 

But I just saw the news

You punched someone?

What on earth

I’d honestly be kinda proud of you if I wasn’t worried

Are you doing ok? 

That’s not like you. 

I was always the violent one. 

I know what I said before, but if you need anyone to talk to, I’m here. 

I won’t be waiting for you anymore, but I’ll still be here for you, if you need me.

All you need to do is reach out.

****************************

Sunday, August 15, 2011

Missed Call at 1:00 am

Voicemail from (xxx) xxx-xxxx: 

 “Ro—Roman! Please, please tell me you’re there, that you’re alright—

I just heard, apparently you’ve been missing for two weeks? Two whole weeks, and I didn’t know—

Please call me back, or text if that works better! Please, no one knows where you are, if you’re ok, nothing!

I — I can’t lose you Roman.

I mean, maybe I did already, maybe I did a long time ago—

But that was different. At least you were alive. You were happy. At least, I thought you were happy. I’m not so sure about that anymore. 

But if by some miracle, some crazy insane miracle you still have this number, if you’re ok, please please let me know. 

I love you so much Ro. 

I don’t think I ever said it enough, but I do. So, so much. 

I hope wherever you are, you’re ok.”

****************************

The dark hotel room was illuminated only by the screen of his phone. He stared at it with glassy eyes, unseeing, as the message finished playing. Roman was leaning against the bed, sitting on the floor. His phone was gleaming on the ground next to him. 

Roman had read Remus’s texts as they came, of course, but he hadn’t thought they were sincere. That they were real. Nothing else in his life was, not even his own parents. So why should his own twin be an exception? But he didn’t delete the texts or block the number. He let the messages keep coming. And he didn’t know why. 

Maybe because part of him had wanted to hope. Why else would he be where he was now? Why else would he have used the most of the little money he had left to get himself here? Here in a dingy little motel on the edge of San Francisco. He hadn’t told anyone where he was going, not that anyone cared. Maybe Remy might’ve. Remy, who Roman realized now might’ve been his only real friend. At least, he could’ve been, if Roman hadn’t pushed him away when Remy had attempted to convince Roman he had a problem. Pushed him away just like Roman had done to everything else good in his life. 

That’s why he hadn’t contacted Remus yet. Why he’d sat here in this room with it’s flea-ridden bed and peeling wallpaper for almost two weeks now, only leaving to buy food from the nearby convenience store. Remus’s texts had seemed like he was doing well. Roman had looked at his Facebook too. Remus was in college, was living with his boyfriend, a job working as a tech at a local theater. He seemed happy. Roman couldn’t bring himself to ruin that like he ruined everything else. 

But that voicemail—he hadn’t ever heard Remus sound so frightened before. So worried. And about Roman, of all people. Why? Why on earth? Sure, they’d been close as kids, but they hadn’t even been in the same room for years. And Roman had ignored all of Remus’s attempts to make contact since. He couldn’t understand it. It made his head hurt. He was feeling bitterly jittery, and not very glittery. 

That was a weird sentence. When did his thoughts stop making sense? He needed his pills, needed them. He couldn’t deal with all of these thoughts and emotions. He needed them to go away. He needed them to stop. He fumbled on all fours for the bottle, and finally found it, open and empty. That wasn’t right, it’d been full only...only...he couldn’t remember. A wave of dizziness hit him, and he pitched forward, face planting into the ground. 

Something wasn’t right. Why was his brain so fuzzy. Everything hurt so much, he couldn’t think. He needed help. He needed Remus. He somehow managed to find his phone, and hit the contact simply labeled “R.”

The phone rang. And rang. Finally, it was picked up. And a familiar voice spoke.

****************************

Remus ran his hand through his sleeping boyfriend’s hair. It was a calming motion that somewhat helped to calm his racing mind. But not by much. Dillon had attempted to convince Remus to rest, but Remus couldn’t sleep. Not when Roman was missing. He’d gotten the news around midnight, from a former friend of Roman’s, Remy. 

Remy had been the one to tell Remus that Roman had been struggling with a drug addiction, though Remy didn’t know how long. He’d tried to get Roman some help as soon as he found out, but the other man had rejected it and broke off their friendship. Remy had gone to Roman’s apartment that morning to attempt to repair their relationship, with the hope that he could eventually convince Roman to get some help. But he was nowhere to be found. The door was unlocked, and there was two weeks worth of mail on the floor. He’d found Remus’s number on accident, on a post-it on Roman’s fridge, labeled “Bro.” That’s when he’d called Remus and, upon finding out he was Roman’s brother, told him everything.

Remus didn’t quite understand why Roman had his number saved like that, but the more pressing concern was finding Roman. Remus attempted to call Roman several times, each one going straight to voicemail.

He didn’t blame Dillon for falling asleep though. Remus would if he could. He couldn’t though. The hand that wasn’t running through Dillon’s hair had a death grip on his phone. He couldn’t stop staring at it, praying to anyone who would listen that it would ring.

He didn’t know what he expected though. Roman had never responded to him in the past, so why would now be any diff— 

“I’m a Barbie Girl, in a Barbie wooorld

Life in plastic, it’s fantastic...”

Remus startled as his phone’s ringtone filled the room. Next to him, Dillon shifted and blinked tiredly at him. 

“Why on earth do you still have that obnoxious song as your ringtone?” Dillon questioned, a little grumpy at being woken so unceremoniously. 

“You can brush my hair, undress me everywheere

Imagination, life is your creation...”

Remus could barely hear him. He could barely hear his own ringtone. All he could do was stare at the name that lit up the screen.

Lil bRO(man)

“Come on, Barbie, let's go party!”

Dillon looked up at Remus, the sleep slowly fading from his gaze as his brain slowly began to catch up.

“Re, what’s wrong?”

“I’m a Barbie Girl, in a Barbie wooorld

Life in plastic, it’s fantastic...”

The chorus of the song began to repeat, and Remus knew he was running out of time. This was something he’d wanted for years, and now, it was happening right in front of him. But he was frozen. For some reason, he couldn’t answer the phone.

“You can brush my hair, undress me everywheere…”

When Remus didn’t respond, Dillon sat up, and saw the phone lying limp in his boyfriend’s grasp.

“Imagination, life is you—”

Quick as a lightning bolt, Dillon grabbed the phone and hit ANSWER before it could go to voicemail. Almost as quick, he hit the speaker button.

There was a long moment of silence. Too long. Finally, Remus’s voice returned.

“Ro, is that you?” He asked, hopefully. “Are you ok, are you hurt, where—”

“Re. I— I didn’t acshully think you’d anshwer.”

Roman’s familiar voice leaked through the speakers like water through a broken dam. Despite Remus’s relief, however, he immediately recognized something was wrong. One look at Dillon’s face told Remus that he’d heard it too. The way Roman’s words slurred themselves together. Remus took a deep breath. He knew how to handle this. He just needed to stay calm.

“Of course I would.” Remus said sincerely. “Ro, why don’t you tell me where you are? Maybe I can come to you and we can have this conversation in person?”

However, Roman didn’t seem to hear Remus’s question.

“I meshed up Re, meshed up big time, I ran ‘way from evything ‘cause I shcrewed up, an’ now I’m losht an’ allone an’ I jus’ wanted to hear your voishe one lasht time…”

Remus felt his heart seize in panic at those words. He grabbed the phone out of Dillon’s hands as the man looked on worriedly. Remus clutched that phone like it was his lifeline. No, Roman’s lifeline.

“Roman, wait, what do you mean, one last time? Where are you, what’s going on?”

“Ate too many of th’ pret-ty white circles, and now I can’ shtand up right and m’ brain won’ work.”

Roman’s voice grew thick, and it began to sound like he was crying.

“M sorry Re, ‘m an awful brother. I can’ do anything righ’ an’ I was too much of a cow-ward to tell you I was here.”

Remus’s eyes widened in shock as his brain processed the information. White circles, didn’t a lot of pills take that form? Including addictive ones. And Roman was here? San Francisco?

He looked over to Dillon to find that his boyfriend had his own phone out, and was callling someone. Dillon caught his gaze, and mouthed 911. Keep him talking. Remus took a deep breath. He needed to keep it together. For Roman’s sake. 

“Roman, you’re going to be fine, just tell me where you are, and I’ll be right there. You said that you’re here? Where is here?”

“Th’ golden ci-ty, home of Saint Franny. Wan-ed to talk to you, couldn’ get up th’ nerve. ‘M in this shtupid lil hot-tel, it schucks. Bayshide Mot-tel, I think. Rom 320. Picked it cause it wash our birth-dayte.”

Remus quickly glanced over to Dillon urgently, and his boyfriend began relaying Roman’s location to the paramedics. 

“Ro, we’ll be right there, just hold on, ok? We’re on our way.” 

No response.

“Roman, Roman!”

Silence echoed from the other end of the line. 

“No, nononononono no! Roman, please!”

In a dark dingy motel room several miles away, the only sound was a brother’s anguished cries, and the only light was that of a cracked phone screen next to a limp hand.

****************************

AN: Again, I’m really sorry about this cliffhanger, and I will fix it tomorrow.

****************************

TAGLIST:

@ironwoman359

@galacticguppy

@trashpanda-remus 

@atticusfinchthelegend

@ravenclawunicorn1

@voidvirgil

@dogwithpants

@dreaming-about-kittens

#ts actor au #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #my writing #my au #remus sanders #deceit sanders #roman sanders #remy sanders #sympathetic deceit sanders #sympathetic remus sanders

[kachinnate]

we’ve finally come time for the one (1) annual Kayla’s Having a Bad Time post 

i don’t know anymore what exactly is wrong with me but wow!! is it bad!!! and wow do i hate it !!!!! i have not gone a day w/o crying in like a week and a half and i’m so tired, i’m literally so tired of hating myself just for existing and i’m tired of all the little things that should not upset me upsetting me only because they’re in masse, only because all together it’s so much and i only have two fucking hands 

and like in the back of my mind even fucking still i’m like “.... okay but placebo effect. okay but you aren’t really sad tho. okay but you literally just don’t want to get better you are doing this for attention you are doing this bc being content would be easy and you just want to stir the pot clearly, just stop” to the point where i’m like I Guess I Have To Prove to even myself that i am fucking justified in feeling the way that i do before my brain gaslights itself into thinking that there was never anything wrong with me to begin with and that i’ve fucking put myself in this hole myself for no reason other than ... i don’t even know! i don’t know 

makes a list in my notes :) to remember all the heinous bullshit going on :) and maybe for catharsis reasons i don’t fucking care anymore 

- it’s the anniversary of the thing. you know. ;) the kind of traumatic experience of having the people i called best friends fucking uhhh pick on me every day for the entirety of like eight months - on my eating habits on my behavior on my anxiety on the things they knew i fucking hated about myself - only for them to just. drop me all of a sudden, on THEIR own terms, as if I was the one who fucking did anything to THEM, thus rendering me from never getting my own fucking closure from the situation ! i have both of them still added as friends on snapchat and i follow them on instagram because for some reason i know that if i just blocked them it would cause problems (what problems?? what arbitrary fucking problems???) seeing their faces makes me feel literal actual dread, i can’t go to one of the restaurants in my town alone because they work there and i hate it ! i hated every second of april 2019 - september 2019 where i felt fucking psychotic for being upset over this situation, where i couldn’t convince myself that i wasn’t insane for being strung up and i couldn’t even call it trauma until like march when someone coined it that for me themselves lol ,,,, i hate myself for still giving them my thoughts, i hate myself for wondering that in a different universe where i wasn’t as fucking stupid or ditzy if they’d still talk to me. i hate myself for wondering if ***** looks at the message i left on her poster last april where i told her how much i admired her and loved her and thinks about me, because that was probably the last time i ever said anything real to her, which... haha. what a JOKE right? 

- my rsd has somehow fucking spiked and gotten so much worse in like.. the last eight days. literally when i first posted ‘sweet hibiscus tea’ i went and checked it a few days after and it had like. two dislikes? and i like. cried? :) which is so dramatic and i hate it djksgndsg i can’t go a day reading messages or texts from anyone who talks to me without finding one that’s not inherently positive and picking it apart until i’ve hurt myself over something that wasn’t even related, im too sensitive about EVERYTHING but i don’t know how to address it or deal with it so i just don’t which i think is... why it’s getting worse oop. it gets triggered by literally fucking everything i hate it here 

- one of the only things bringing me any sort of serotonin rn is making content. hense the hyperfixating on my r and on this oneshot and on the writing meme things, like. it makes me feel productive, but hyperfixating for me oftentimes leads to a bad headspace which makes me fucking disoriented when i come out of it, and like. ofc there’s the typical things w it too like me forgetting to do other shit like eat or whatever but it’s literally been the only way i can cope with myself. making things. getting validation for things. if i can entertain someone for like, ten minutes, maybe anything i do matters. maybe. fuck. 

- i can’t not self isolate myself when things are bad, i just. can’t sdjgnsd like i hate talking about myself i hate talking about the way i feel because nothing makes sense?? i encourage people to talk to me when they feel bad but i can’t ever do the same for myself because i’m a hypocrite! and like the feelings of worthlessness overpower everything i do! convince me people don’t care and shit when i know that’s not the case, but if i acknowledge that then i have to think about how i’m being selfish by fucking moping but not talking to anyone, and i just! i cannot win !!! ever! 

- ^^^^ on that note, literally the few times i’ve felt okay recently i’ve had that ripped right from me by little things people close to me have done, like !! can you not vague me?? regardless of if you see that i’m doing bad mentally or not ???? i’m begging you , i’m so sorry that i’m not acting normal but can you for one second maybe consider that i’m a person ? i may be SAD but i’m not fucking STUPID so if i bother you just tell me ??? it’s the least you can do ??????

- scared i can’t love. scared i’m not morally a good person. scared that i’m selfish but don’t realize it. i wasn’t meant to have a confidant i don’t think and who am i to ever try and subject anyone to my fucked up head 

- i’m constantly fucking terrified on my dad’s behalf because this dude is 41 years old yet i’m the fucking adult out of the two of us most of the time? he comes home drunk so often and i’ve thought that he’s had alcohol poisoning more than once and i hate being fucking scared of having to like. contact fafsa or my college like “hey can u adjust my financial aid, because i’m kind of an orphan now? :’)” we don’t have any other family, i can’t ask anyone to help me it’s literally me and him against the world and he’s put me on this pedestal of being an amazing daughter so i feel guilty at the thought of anything happening to him as if i’m his fucking guardian. he drinks so much and he’s so infidelious and ridiculous so what’s going to happen when i leave ? 

it’s just. so much. but i don’t want to be a beacon of negative shit because even after all of this i’m self conscious of making other people sad so i pretend that everything’s fine on my sc and in person , which i know gives off the vibe of “but she’s not even acting sad? :///” when i offhandedly mention anywhere that i’ve been depressed and i just. i’m sorry that i don’t post about how when i’m not staring at my huion screen i’m fucking staring at the wall wondering if anyone would fucking notice other than my dad and my coworkers if i just disappeared without a word

it feels selfish to complain about my life feeling bad with all the shit going on, too, on top of that. so it’s better if i just don’t say anything at all, there’s other shit to deal with other than my life falling apart because really this just happens every year around this time doesn’t it. i’ll get over it. i’m being dramatic and stupid and in like two months none of this will even fucking matter 

tldr; i need to get my meds upped or something 

#irrelevant #do not be obliged to say anything i really just needed to scream on somewhere that wasn't snapchat #bc for legal reasons people don't need to know how i feel <3 #garbage.txt #if you're new here i swear that this isn't normal i'm just fucking bad rn #we'll be back to memes and content momentarily #not proofread #can't look @ this rn #gonna drink some hawaiian punch and probably work on #something #as always <3 #vent #ask to tag #i don't think there's anything particularly Jarring in this but #tw alcohol #longpost #long post

[screechingtrashcalzonewombat]

"Apopalictic Astral Asending" Reavaluate disassociate my self worth...

The galaxies have birthed an uncontrollable being ....

I've feel as tho Ive seen myself split in two ..

Witch side do u wanna see if ur lucky I'll let you choose .

Cause in the end I loose..

One of hate one of love could both be from up above..

Or down below ...

I've began to show signs of delusions as half my mind goes an tells me it's only mild confusion. As my body fights my brain an heart to escape theys terrible illusions.

Yet the other half tries to start a fusion of body an mind an all the suddently my thoughts are no longer mine..

But a evil so Divine that its wound it's way threw time itself I've fealt the damage the energy dealt. I've yelped in anquish an pain been stuck for 7 long years in the rain with nothing to gain .. I can barely fathom to explain im not fully on earth I'm on another astral plane but i fear i flew out of my lane I've gone insane never wanted fame Ever fealt like bat man I mean oops Bruce Wayne. Nah fuck hes spoiled a wet rat infact I'm more like hulk duck when I'm near i wearly see I'm drowning inside my mind but no one can hear my dear I fear I've lost control again but cant compute I've been booted out of the system I've clawed hit an kicked to try to get to the top but i outta of known I've been ripped an thrown from my throne ive been shown what this beast can do but who woulda thought a demon bought my soul ..a jackal a goul.....you'll see me shift into numbness I suposse it was my own dumbness for being to open now cause of me my body an mind are broken an stole. as I weep an shutter an i try to speak but only stutter I found myself weak in defeat ....as ik this demon reaching its peak will plunder an pillage the town I've found I'm bound to this beast nowhere to run not north south or east I can run it will feast on my soul until the end of time ..

For diamonds cannot compare to the rarity of a soul nor a bowl of Ruby's an jems rolled in gold .....

A bold statement you say........

.. theres no ray of light here they stole it away buried it in your mind but how can u define being locked trapped in yourself ...

You've dealt your own fate ...

Wanting ansers u dint deserve ..

Did you like your just dessert's...no?

Dose it hurt ..... After you itll kill children's childhood freinds like bernie & eart ....whent bizzirk an bashed there brains makeing bloody rains

curking on everyone with cutlery forks an knifes* slice *cook big bird with chives after I've shanked him 900 times... 100 more woulda been devine serve him drink to dry alone cooked an ripped him to the bone but not quite alone u may not be home inside but u can still watch...I thought I taught u better than to close ur eyes dont beg or look surprised look away an I'll adopt another stray to do the same a slow sweet death cure's my hunger anyway

.the wines innocents blood bitter sweet to the taste of the tounge

no one thought it capable I seemed...looked ...so young..

They dint know it had just begun it wasn't me but the evil half committing crime with glee an fleeing repetavidly revealingly images to my mind of times & crimes so sickening I thought I'd die forever scetched seered into my mind .binded with no power as one towers over you using your power you cowar for how dose one define the disasbalment of there an every defined mind while ur inner demon dines on flesh making a mess of your vessel you cant even wrestle your way to the light to stay only break down in defeat that your so far away you've became an internal mess cant even stand on ur feet the beast has u chained in defeat u cry an apologize looking for answers as of how to stop.....an then...you hear a voice .." you outta stayed silent instead of talk back. U shouldn't of complained do u still think ur life used to be pain...... . Ur a sack of shit ur wit is less than that of an ant not to rant but I'm not done yet I have ur soul now I'm never letting go no no no I have plenty more so much to show many souls to reap an emotions to subdue after all u said yes.....

...did you forget ur the one who started this.

mess ......you dressed your mind with fantasy an fiction word to the wise never mess with other worldly friction an your itching for a way out but I doubt ull get there before the end of time .after all you had a devil an an angel on ur shoulder an you chose wrong this time. Only took 666 times but I'm patient an always waiting for 6 years hating an burning flesh waiting for a prayer a call after all Lucifer was once an angel an the most beautiful you just dint get to see from what angle he had beauty wrath an determination but u humans resulted in his isolation incarsorason. So now we will end up being humanity's enialation when were done there entire selves with evaporate for the demons have released self hate to pro create creatures in confidence we annihilate the fate of the human race at least the trace slight like us able to bust threw dementions so weve mentioned a start to find the inordinary soul an heart ......humanity was doomed from the start.. you stole our purpose our reason to be......humans sit in sin an glee.

Your humanitys Pride is overbearing never genuinely caring ..

Greed is sweeping the nation its reached ever state an it's got a hot heaping plate of corruption for mankind's consumption greed is grotesque in its steps of the darkest quest to corupt ur mind an want. .want..want until that's all you are is wanting more

Lusting over losely draped garments you've tarnished ur soul .

Envy of what you do not posses but for all you know that information an life would make you a mess but ud still test ur envious tendencies.....

Glutton glutton what have you gained it's not knowledge no for it's to plain rather glutton uve found a urge that wont go away....

Wrath an vengeance blood draw too no one stops till some dies him or you....

Sloth last but not least cant forget you cause uuuh wait what that fuck do u do....you sleep an sulk sit slither out of simple tasks an that's why ur not 1st no ur last like humanity just ask ....

So soon the day will draw near the the number 4 is what you should fear our dear old freinds were sending up for a visit so they can reddit ur fate for each a horse an a trait the first out the door with bow in hand riding a white horse with bow in hand

..

Conquest the start of the final test leading the restthere dark version of light on a white stallion he leads the way an soon will follow hades anyway.

War was next on a red steed he rode prepared to purge an quench new blood for the wars an battels would just begin brother against brother an close of kin witch to win?

Famine foe of all on a black horse with the courses hair so fair merely bone but dont let his appearance fool you hes for he is full devouring your greed taking away everything you want or need an now ur rationed to nearly starvation stretching farther than destination world wide sensation...

Pleage reaper of souls slowly apears steadly trotting riding a very sickly steed looking pale an almost gruesome green with sores an sickness best keep a distance. For he shall be the bringer of death an reap you all one by one to the four you shall fall...

Will you be spared are you true....

Are you happy with your life what did you do...?

Rapture no you still must die.....

Say good by to this earthy chapter theres so much more that manifest after.

But only your earthly husk must rust an fall your all energy of grate mass....

It's time to take the task of self evolvment an enjoy an enlightened installment

this world was just step wrench ur third eye wide open an accept the token of eternal life.

Grinded it to atoms a flash of dust all together ur a self fulfilling must memory pass u in a rush.....

. sudently ur bodysuit is gone ....

But it dint felt like it quite belonged.

You were 7 grams of light matter to be exact an sudently you've cracked the atmosphere ..steering energetic waves my metal psyche caves to the new information flying threw stars consolations.

Suddently speeding at the sound of light the stratosphere seems to disapear ..

My fear is gonewithout a trace an freedom transferred in its place

but am waved in infatuation to find out about out true destination...

Restoration of the soul the goal of a higher self being achieved as I crash into the sun 1500°

I feel a warmth like no other each being hues of light I might of missed earth if not I heard a voice but a mental push no need for speech just thinking it shall be done said by the the brightest in the sun.

Rejoice at last but ur journeys yet to pass ..

This is merely were you start ....

Our flames grew high with frantic waves not wanting to give up the new life we were just gave

Suddenly our flames grew dim as we felt a swirling deep from withn sudently the surface of the sun turned to tin an bent in a cracked an caved with itself our time an space sending us ascending in alignment the same assignment.

Because the sun has begun to change ina twisted way a black hole some could say.

As all of our astral beings were ripped an tore apart at the seams we all merged an formed one all knowing creative being an sudently everything I've know has little matter I'm past a point of human chatter i understand infinity the holy trinity I down in the milky way an experienced every life I've relived it twice I've spliced my genetics into over 2000 million beings I've seen good an bad in between experienced every tragedy to build my strength an studyd every thesis an theory thread an chain nearly drove my vessel insane even took knifes threw my veins in anger yet it failed I was just a trailer.ive seen love hate an anger

Comprehension compasing many others I have love an understanding past many beings there anger seems to brush by me cause I'm with 2000 souls an minds that have formed one to reach a state I can medidate in the milky way an force your negative away .

Our astral self has accumulated complete power an understanding by costuming to our full potential our old body's merely a rental.

Gentle at first then bursted into power showered in knowledge I know now much that I wondered before but now I want more an I've thought till I an 2000 shared beings head hurt cause my girth of knowledge will now never be enough it's tough cause now I must find .... how to ascend again but for now i must defend my vast mind defind crime ...?

Keeping 2000 vast voices locked away so I can focus an try to learn anyway leaning in to vast places is I the 1st 2nd or 3rd or other many plains I cant quiet place I'm traveling threw them all searching for everything I couldn't before .

This life isent like the countless other this life I like it has interesting teathers

I've surpass Angel's an there feathers an vison of a hawk.

I've surpass demonds and there demonic temping talk ..

I've walked on water as I was ripped apart an I felt my self rebuilt every cell of my being got hit with rods of power lightning not even myself can fight me god like abilities the universe as built in me theres ben a spiritual shift a tilt in me somthing generations of DNA sprawled out in a numerical display my old life experiences is the price I pay so that I can be god even if only for a day

I think I'll sit an think somewere in the outter spink of the universe I've cursed myself with knowledge an now I'm aware step into my astral space....

If you dare...

[supergirlimagine]

Lost & Found pt. 5

Heeeeey Guys! Alright so this has been Real! I had the best time working on this with the one and only @baked-bean-bekah! So this will be MY last Part for this Series. She’ll be leading us out with the final Part sometime next Week! Be excited! I Really enjoyed putting this together and thanks to everyone who showed us some love! We really appreciate it and are Glad you guys liked it, we shall see how this ends! Thats it from me✌🏽

Thanks for Reading🖤

The DEO is busy with Agents and IT personal scattering around. The latest attack had everyone on high Alert. In the Middle of it all, Maggie stands with Alex and Supergirl, looking at the Screen in Silence. A Picture of you was pulled up. A scared young child with a lost expression in her eyes, your baggy hospital gown making you look way to thin. You held up a sign that read: Subject 9473. Alex breaks the Silence.

"Brainy. Find Project Shockwave and tell me about it."

"I am not sure if we can access said File, Director Danvers. It seems to have been filled away as..Classified.”

"Then find a way, Agent Dox.", her order left no Room for argument.

Brainy ducked his head and works his fingers over the Tablet for a Few Seconds, just like that, the File showes up on the Screen. He starts rattling of the Details.

"Project Shockwave. A Cadmus experimental trial which had its Participants, from an unknown Planet of Origin, compete against each other to test their Strength and Stamina. The goal of the Program was to understand and then Convert the Subjects Abilities as a use for an never exhausting Power Source, meant for all Electronical Devices. Ultimately, the creation of Weapons with electricity currents, that would be stronger than any Man made machine, would come to be. Although, it looks like the Test Subjects were unable to meet the criteria in all but one cases and deceased shortly after Initiation of the Program. The dissection of the Subjects proved that...-"

"Okay. We get it." Maggie cuts him off, having heard enough.

"What about Y/N?"

Brainy lookes at her confused. She cleares her throat and shifts uncomfortably.

"Subject..9473?", she clarifies.

"Oh, yes. It looks like this Test Subjects was brought into the Programm as a young Child and was monitored and tested throughout Adolescence. Said Subject is known to Produce large amounts of Energy, which were successfully converted into Electricity. With excessive testing and training, the subject was later able to change it's monocular structure and Teleporte through any Electrical current. For safety reason, the Subject was held in Isolation. Held in a Glass Cell, surrounded by Water as it was one of the few ways to disciple the Subject. Power blocked devices were placed around it's Wrists at all times. Furthermore,..-"

"That's Enough. Thank you.", Alex cut him off this time, starting to feel sick to her stomach.

They hade somewhat of an Idea of what had happened to you, but were never able to get the full story. You had refused to tell all of it and they decided to stop pushing.

"Get the Alpha Team ready. We are moving out."

Without spearing another glance, Alex turned around and headed for the Armory. Supergirl close on her toes, determination strong in her features.

"Danvers! Wait." Maggie caught up with a few quick steps.

"Where do you think you’re going?"

She whipped around quickly and looked at her Finance.

"I'm going to do what I should have done a long time ago! I'm taking down Cadmus and then finding Y/N."

She made a move to leave again, when Maggie grabbed her Arm.

"Wow. Hey, Stop. You don't even have a Plan or any Clue on where to start. Let's think this through!"

Alex started getting irritated.

"No! Listen, Sawyer. I don't care! All they do is hurt People and use them for their own gain. I'm so sick of it! This ends tonight!"

Emotions were running high and Maggie matched her frustration.

"There is no point in running in there blind! You are going to get yourself hurt! Lets take a step back. I know you’re angry..-"

"I'm not Angry, Maggie! Im furious! They hurt the People I care about! Y/N is out there alone right now and probably terrified! If you would've just..-"

Maggie let go of the Brunettes arm and looked at her with raised Eyebrows.

"If I would have what, Danvers?"

"If you would have just stayed behind with her! Like I told you to!" Alex was close to shouting at this point and heavy Silence followed her Outburst.

Immediately, Alex felt guilty as the hurt expression crossed over her Lovers Face. She avoided her eyes in Shame and continued in a low voice.

"I'm Sorry. No, this is not your fault in any way. Its Just..If I would've been better and faster and paid more attention to her. I'm supposed to be the Director. I'm supposed to know these things. This is on me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to let my anger out on you."

Maggies facial expression softened and she pulled Alex to the side when she saw her eyes starting to water.

"Hey, Alex. This is not anybodies fault, especially not yours. We will get her back and we will get justice, but not like this. I can't lose you too. Please."

Alex looked up now and stepped closer to Maggie, almost whispering the next words.

"I know you’re right..I'm just.. I'm scared''

Maggie tilted her head to the side, flashing her Dimples with a sad smile.

"I know, Babe. Me too."

--

It's been two Days since the Attack and two Days of you being back on the streets. You had not eaten or slept. You were constantly looking over your shoulder, frightened by every small noise. Using you Powers after such a long time had taken a lot out of you, but you couldn't afford to rest just yet and debating your next steps wasn't an easy task. Your brain was telling you to get out of town, leave this Place behind and find somewhere far away where they wouldn't be able to get to you. But there was a tightness in your chest, a hollow feeling creeped through your veins at the thought of leaving this City behind. You had never felt this before, like there was something that had made you want to hold on. You let out a sigh at the realization of how much you missed them. That's what this Felling was. You wanted nothing more than to go back Home and cry in their Arms and never leave their sides again, but that would be too dangerous. What if Cadmus found you there or worst yet, punish them for helping you? You had never felt this torn, because for the first Time since you could remember, you felt like there was something worth fighting for, like you had a chance at a happy and normal Life. Letting to ine good thing in your Life go just seemed like something you couldn't handle. The Rain was coming down heavy and you were trying to find cover in some Alleyway. Just as you were rounding the corner you saw a Tall Man towering over a frightened Young Woman. He was yelling at her.

"Give me your Purse! Now!"

She handed it over and you saw a Knife clutched in his fist, as he went through her Stuff. For a split second you wanted to turn around and just walk away, but that's not what Maggie and Alex would do. They are Heroes and they help People, so you should do the same.

"Hey!", you yelled and started to run towards the Guy.

He turned around just in time to see your eyes start to glow and Electricity forming in your Hands. He looked at you wide eyed, dropped the Purse and ran in the other Direction. You came to a stop in front of the scared woman, not thinking it was worth it to chase after the Guy. When you bent down to gather her Belongings and hand them back to her, you suddenly heard a voice yell behind you.

"NCPD! Freeze!"

You stoop up and turned around with the Purse in your Hand, this was bad.

"No!" You looked at the Officer with a shocked expression, understanding what this must look like.

You still had the woman's Purse in a tight grip and your eyes where glowing a pale blue, sparks still running along your finger tips.

"I'm helping!" You yelled back through the Rain.

The gun remained pointed in your direction so you turned and looked at the Lady, pleading with your eyes to back up your story, but all she did was stare at you in Horror.

"Keep those arms up!", the wavering Voice of the Officer made you turn your Head back around.

"I'm going to come over there an put these cuffs on you!" He reached behind him and pulled out a heavy set of cuffs.

You knew those and knew they would dampen your Powers.

"Please! Listen me..-"

"No! Just keep you Mouth Shut and no sudden Movements or I WILL shoot!", He mostly kept his composure, but it wasn't hard to tell that he was new and probably just as nervous and scared as you were right now.

You choose to not push any further, you could see this going sideways. The Cop slowly walked over to you, gun still raised and pointed forward, the Rain around you making it hard to see. The Lady standing off to your side finally seemed to snap back into her surrounding. She made a move forward and tried to make the Officer understand that this was all one big Misunderstanding. The sudden movement startled you enough to look around and put one arm out to let her know you had it handled. The next part happened so fast, you are not even sure it happened at all.

"I said don't move!" thats the last thing you heard before the deafening sound of a gun shot rang through the Allyway. The familiar sensation of Pain ran up your Leg, before the ground came up to meet you.

--

"Sawyer?" Maggies voice came out raspy and heavy with sleep.

They had been up for the most part of the last couple days. Looking for you and for a way to take down Cadmus and get you back safely. It was around 3 am now and they had just fallen asleep on the couch, surrounded by research and anything else that could help them.

"What?" She was standing just half a second later.

Fully awake now as Alex was slowly opening her eyes.

"Where is she?!" She raised her voice and Alex was at her side this time around already, trying her best at listening in on the Phone Call.

"What?? What do you mean she..- You know what! Nevermind We'll be there in 15min."

She hung up her Phone and walked over to the Front Door, where Alex was already putting on her shoes.

"Who was that? Where is she? Is she ok?"

She asked as she handed her Finance her coat.

"That was my work." Alex was just as confused as Maggie now.

"She's at the NCPD extraterrestrial Holding Cells."

They both shared a look and rushed out the Door, everything else forgotten.

--

You sit on one of the benches inside a small basement Cell. Your hands still locked in those awful Handcuffs behind your back. The bullet had only grazed your leg and it bleed a little bit, but they had wrapped it up with some gauze and had you sit down and wait for...you don't really know what you were waiting for. All you know is you were cold. You still had your clothes on which were damp from the rain and stuck to your body in an uncomfortable way. This was not how you thought this Night would have gone. Suddenly, a familiar voice cuts you out of your thoughts and you perk up to see where its coming from, your heart suddenly racing. It sounded like the quick steps were coming from just around the Corner.

"Where is that Rookie?! He freaking SHOOT her?? What the Hell is going on here?"

The Officer who had fired at you stood up from his Chair outside the Cell where he was watching up. You heard him gulp as he straightens up and braces himself.

"Please. Detective, we need you to calm down."

They were getting closer.

"Don't tell me to calm down right now! Just get me to her!"

You looked up just as they rounded the corner and your eyes immediately lock with Maggies, which made her she stop in her tracks. Alex was close behind her and you heard her sigh in Relief, when she saw you sitting there. The world stopped for a second as the three of you just stared at each other.

"Open the Cell.", Maggies voice came out calmer, but still not with the same amount of Compassion it usually carries.

"I'm sorry Detective. There are protocols. She's dangerous and I can't just..-"

The Rookies next words were cut off by him being slammed against the Wall behind him. He had at least half a foot on Maggie, but she was still holding him against the Wall, her Forearm pressed against his throat.

"Listen Buddy! You are going to open this Cell for me. Right. Now." Her voice was low and dangerous, there is fire in her eyes.

"I suggest you don't say another Word. I'm not even close to being done dealing with you for shooting at my kid! You don't even want to know what you got coming if you don't open this damn Door!"

She let go of him and he looked at her with wide eyes, too scared to even move.

"NOW!"

He stuttered out a quick 'Yes Ma'am' before stumbeling over to the Door and fumbling to unlock it. The second it was open, Alex rushed inside and wrapped you in her arms.

"Oh my god! Y/N! I'm so sorry! I should've look after you better! I'm so glad you're alright!" She pulled back and held your face between her hands, forcing eye contacts as she clarified.

"You're alright, yes?" Hey eyes drifting to your wrapped leg.

You nod and can't help but lean into her touch. You close your eyes and smile a little. You never thought you'd ever miss another's Persons touch, but you sure had.

"What happened Y/N? Why didn't you come back?", Her voice sounded hurt and you tried to sit up and reassure her, but the cuffs made moving around hard.

"Take them off." Maggie was standing slightly behind Alex and had her arms crossed over her chest.

She had barely finished her sentence when the Rookie came over and had you unlocked. Alex now gave you a proper Hug and you could feel the love and worry radiating off her. You looked over her shoulder and locked eyes with Maggie, dread made it's way into your stomach when you weren't able to read her expression.

"Give us some Space." She instructed without breaking your eye contact.

The Rookie and other Officer, that had led them down there, were out ther so quickly, you were sure they were the ones with Power. Maggie finally seemed to Relax. Alex let you go and started to examine your Leg, not caring about the protest that you were giving. It was silent for far to long for your liking and you started to get anxious. A single Light bulb was hanging from the ceiling of the Cell, it flickered and your eyes shot over to it. For a split second, you thought about just zooming out of there.

"Don't." Maggies voice was still sharp, but also soft and it held no venom, like it had with her Colleges.

You turned your head in her direction, ashamed that she knew what you were thinking of.

"You hate me now?" It was meant as a question, but came out more like a statement.

"No! Y/N..That's not." The detective let out a heavy sigh and moved closer to you, kneeling down to be eye level and put her hand on your thigh.

"I'm just worried. You were gone and we had no Idea where you were or if you were Okay."

Alex looked up from where she was making sure your Leg was fine and the bleeding was controlled.

"We were so worried about you.", she added to the conversation.

"I'm sorry. Had to leave. Too Dangerous for you." You look at them with watery eyes, the events from the last couple Days finaly catching up with you.

"I'm....My Powers", you almost spat that word, hating what it made you.

"My Powers are Bad, like me. I'm Bad Person", it came out broken and just above a whisper.

There was no need to hide anything from the two of them anyways, they would always know.

"No! Hey..Don't say that Y/N!" Maggie picked up your Chin and made you look at her.

"You are not Bad. You are one of the smartest, funniest and kidest People I’ve ever meet! Even after everything this World has done to you, you still give it so much Love. Its amazing to witness and be a part of. You are good, you have a good Heart. Just because you have these gifts, doesn't mean you are bad."

Alex was holding your Hand and nodding along with what Maggie was saying.

"She's right. For the short amount of time I was lucky enough to have you in my Life, you have only made it brighter."

Tears were making their way down your Face.

"You mean it?"

"Yes. Of course we do. And Y/N..It's okay to be scared sometimes, but you don't have to run anymore. You don’t have to be guarded. I was scared too when you were gone, but as long as we all stay together, we’ll be fine. I promise you. Forever."

---

You guys had finally made it home. You were unsure if you should've gone with them at first, but that was out of the question for them. Some more protest followed as Alex stitches up your Leg and you were now laying half on Top of her and fast asleep on the couch. She was playing with your Hair and was softly soothing you everytime you flinched our let out a whimper in your sleep. A comfortable silence was in the Air.

"So...", Alex looked up at Maggie with a knowing smirk, her hand never stopping the soft motions over your head.

The brunette was sitting at your Feet and was Knee deep in Files that was spread out across the Table. They still had to find a way to stop Cadmus.

"What, Danvers?" She didn't have to look up, to know exactly what Alex was playing at.

"Your kid, huh?" Maggie stopped writing and put down her Pen to look at the two of you.

Her features immediately softening at the sight. The quick, witty comeback dying on her lips, as she took in the scene in front of her. This was Perfect and everything she never knew she wanted.

"Yeah.” She reached over you and grabbed Alex hand, letting the Moment take over, nothing but love in her eyes.

“She’s ours.”

Alex gave her Hand a soft Kiss and looked down at your sleeping face and nodded.

"She sure is."

A frown took over her Face, thinking of what they were facing next.

"What if they take her?”

"Hey. No, don't worry. They won't. I will fight with everything I have for our Family. I know you will do the same."

Maggie made sure her Tone showed Alex how serious she was about this.

"Yes. I’m oing to be right there next to you.”

Alex whispered as she moved some stray hairs from your exhausted Face.

____________

@thatcrazybookwormgeek @mysterious-teen-blogger

#supergirl #supergirl imagine #supergirl x reader #alex danvers #alex danvers x reader #maggie sawyer #maggie sawyer x reader #reader interactive #sanvers

[traiinedhard-a]

[ CHARACTER STUDY; SAITAMA & GENOS ]

THE FOLLOWING ANALYSIS CAN GO EITHER PLATONICALLY VIEWED OR ROMANTICALLY FOR THE DUO. i don’t care how you interpret it. go nuts! just know this is long as fuck.

I’m so GLAD Genos and Saitama have each other now. Without each other,,, genos would be wrecklessly trying to push himself to the point of near death and saitama would be wallowing in his own depression but now saitama has something to look forward to talking wise and genos has someone who cares so much about his well-being that he refuses to let him try and basically kill himself like the way he used to. now genos has someone who actually worries if he'll make it through a fight instead of just trying to self destruct at everything he just about loses to. he has been given a safer and more realistic goal to look forward to and he's become more relaxed. saitama's been able to be more expressive since he's constantly with genos, and he doesn't feel as empty because he feels like he has a reason to live now. it's clear that when they're apart saitama worries endlessly for genos (and once worries that something horrific would happen to genos if he were by himself) but without genos around he immediately goes back to his old, lonely ways and feels so unbearably sad and lonely that even king's like "shit man. u ok". and guess what? the moment he sees genos is safe and not dead or hanging on by a string, he’s IMMEDIATELY far happier and even visibly cheers up, and king’s like “WOAH you look awfully refreshed” and saitama’s like “yeah dude my head’s suddenly clear” and if that isn’t love then i don’t know what is. 

Of course kuseno cares if genos almost dies, but the thing is, kuseno seems to be just as bent on finding that cyborg as genos is. I feel like... though kuseno still cares for genos PERIOD, he seems to be pretty iffy on the fact that genos has been given more realistic goals to shoot for by saitama and even comments "you're seriously trying to aim for be s rank 1? is that what your master told you to do? what happened to getting vengence against the mad cyborg? where's your passion for that?" and genos is just. shocked and doesn't even reply for a moment and he's like "uh.. i mean.. OF COURSE i still want vengence but i gotta do what sensei wants.." etcBut I do think kuseno notes that this is for the better anyways, iffy feelings or not, because at least genos isn't basiclaly dragging himself in every single week and in tatters, because hell, while genos is strong even when saitama and him first met what was his solution to battles he couldn't win, and even sometimes now? use my core, self destruct, im not worthy of defeating the borg if im losing to this, time to end it, sorry dr kuseno, family, master etc Now Saitama steps in, and I was just REMINDED OF THIS SCENE IN PARTICULAR but like the arc where saitama knocks out genos in the middle of him and sonic’s fight? He was concerned for genos and as someone who rarely expresses concern or care for others, don't you think it's very telling that he stepped in on his own volition to make sure genos didn't get hurt to beat sonic's ass?even sonic comments "are you trying to protect him?" and saitama's like "yeah, of course" and he's clearly getting serious because he doesn't want genos hurt. hell, he even basically ghosted fubuki the moment he saw genos and sonic fighting! saitama really does worry a lot for genos and some of the things he worries about are really concerning..  but this isn't the first time he's been pretty scared for genos. remember the deep sea king fight? he was afraid genos bit the dust there for a it and even visibly relaxes when he finds out genos is okay and he says "Don't ever scare me like that again!" As for the saitama part of things, it's not hard to see the difference of before genos vs after genos. Genos brought color to his world and gave him company, and it's what he claims he never wanted but it's clear how much it helped him. I feel like if it weren't for genos, saitama would be just as shelled up if not more than he used to be -- he didn't really have much of anything to do and it's obvious he was starting to get bored of... life, to put it lightly. But when genos basically asserts himself into his life? he starts to feel again. he's not moping all the time, he has somebody to talk to instead of harmfully isolating himself. he's the kind of guy who was alone with his thoughts for too long -- we get glimpses of it every now and them, but we can clearly tell that he's got a lot of sad emotional baggage. it all stems from being too strong, ofc. but, still, he is DEEPLY troubled by it and life basically lost all meaning for him. any farther and i feel like he would've legitimately felt like existing was useless, though with a body like his i highly doubt he could take... action. And the longer he's alone with his thoughts, the worse he gets, and he just becomes so... mopey. forgive me if i sound repetitive, but like!! genos comes in, and all of that is GONE within a few days. He must've spilled about how lonely he felt to genos at some point before he started getting closer to him -- based on the canon info where saitama actually got genos to cry uncontrollably when he told him how lonely he felt which had to have been some serious shit because. genos does NOT cry. with someone else to keep him away from his thoughts, he started to lighten up. at the beginning of the series it's safe to say he was pretty damn standoffish -- but now? now he's actually attempting to socialize with other people, he actually hangs out with more people whether he wants to admit it or not. He's become a bit softer (not much) to those he doesn't know, and DEFINITELY more expressive -- ESPECIALLY AROUND genos. he's become more thoughtful -- he doesn't mope about his powers much anymore, he does anything and everything with genos because he can talk about it and lose himself in the moment. At least, that's what i like to think. and all around... he's found a new passion for life. the dude isn't just wandering around aimlessly now, he's hanging out with genos and he's living to protect the citizens and genos after he moved in. Yeah, he's always gonna have a strong moral compass and save people, but the joy and the meaning of such actions fall to black and white until genos shows up again. now he's got a reason to keep fighting. he has a reason to get out of bed and feel like his strength means something -- because he can use it to protect others and protect genos even if nobody but genos is thankful of it. As much as he detests the attention he gets from Genos -- think about it, don't you think it helps to have someone think you're not totally useless? That your work does mean something to at least one person even if the world basically gives you the finger? Because I don't think saitama realizes it, but Genos is the one thing keeping him going in the hero job. I honestly think he would have quit when everyone chanted at him to give it up after destroying that meteor if it wasn't for genos -- he saved everyone's lives, and genos was the only one to see it. genos is the one that gets him to calm down and realize that if they don't care, that doesn't matter -- he'd always be there for saitama And anyways, the gist of all this goes back to my first point -- it's amazing that they have each other now, because imagine all the development and all the ways they've been improving just never existing.  Without Saitama,  genos would still be the same wreckless kid trying to throw himself without thought into wreckless battles. Saitama has helped him heed himself on that, and to relax and stop taking everything so seriously. Genos still takes some things too literally., like the 10-20 word limit when talking to saitama, but I feel like half the time, Saitama couldn't really care less.  Without Genos, Saitama would be the same old sad sack of hero he used to be, holed up and his depression worsening because he hardly ever leaves the apartment but for what? Sales? Manga? Sometimes Monsters if he happens to run into them? He doesn't do much of anything and it took a heavy toll on his mental health, but now Genos is there to get him out, to possibly even comfort him or just support him if he needs it. He gets Saitama out of the house, involved ina  lot of other activities, and when Genos isn't around, Saitama... doesn't fare too well at all. //COUGHS LOUDLY@ THE MANGA REFERENCED EARLIER  (( and personally, despite saitama coming off as almost always :^| i feel like the poor guy really really overthinks things. you may think there's nothing going on in there, but his thoughts really are dangerous for him  to be alone with )) Romance or not, there’s no denying this. Like, I DARE anyone to try to say they would be good w/o each other -- I feel like so much of the fandom takes this kinda.. not seriously? It’s not really meant as a dig or anything, but a lot of ppl take what they have for granted.. 

Saitama just wants to be carefree and he’s still very much lax, and even though he knows he’s a shitty teacher, I think that he does a great job of teaching genos that there’s more to life than REVENGE, SELF DESTRUCTION, and FIGHTING. He teaches him to enjoy the little things in life, and Genos rejuvenates his passion for heroism. I feel like Genos wants to be strong physically and that’s why he so heavily admires Saitama, too, but that’s a bit off topic.   It’s something Saitama’s been missing for a long time, and something Genos never had -- he just wants Genos to feel as human as possible, and I feel like he tries all too hard to get Saitama to open up as well. Genos may  not be the best at therapy or whatever, but seeing as he’s the person Saitama is closest to, he definitely does want Saitama to feel like he’s never alone and I just. Cannot stress how IMPORTANT THIS IS. Saitama’s got a history of bottling everything up and avoiding confrontation, But Genos? The cyborg wears his heart on his SLEEVE, even if he probably wouldn’t view it that way himself.  Thanks to him, Saitama can be himself. He doesn’t have to hide away what he really acts like -- not that he cared much for it anyways -- but around genos he can be.. childish. He can be difficult. He can be whatever he wants, and no matter what, Genos will be there to support him. And I really, really admire that. ONE & Murata did them the best justice i’ve ever seenwith a relationship like theirs. And if there was ever anyone to get romantic with for them -- not even as a shipper, but from a story pov -- saigenos makes so much more sense. They bring out the BEST in each other, and they live together, and... well,, THIS post sums up all my feelings on the matter.

Genos wants to help Saitama in whatever way he can. Saitama wants to make sure Genos lives out his life like any normal person would. You get the gist?

sO. IN CONCLUSION, Saitama and genos may not realize it.... but they definitely need each other. Them meeting was for the best of both of their lives -- and without each other there's no way in HELL they'd be doing as good as they are now.

#OKAY RANT OVER #I KNOW IT'S A JUMBLED MESS BUT HNNNNNNN #⌠jonesy speaks⌡ #okay to reblog #⌠character study; jonesy rambles⌡

[mythical-song-wolf]

BNHA Angst Week

Day 7: Rose // Time

White day was fast approaching and normally, after being in a relationship for so long, Izuku would be excited for that day. Because he gets to pamper and get pampered by his Kacchan.

But he can’t do that.

Why?

Because he’s back a good decade or so before he even started dating Katsuki. He’s back in middle school, a good month before the sludge villain and meeting All Might. Over a good year before he and Kacchan finally clear up that misunderstanding that was— is simmering between them since they were kids.

But Deku just wants his Kacchan, even if only for a moment. He’s knows it’s selfish. He knows it’s wrong. He knows he shouldn’t be doing things. But... the heart wants what the heart wants and Deku doesn’t know if he’ll be okay if he doesn’t at least do this.

Izuku goes out to buy somethings. He’ll need to be careful when buying it. Hopefully Kacchan doesn’t see him, he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he sees those beautiful crimson eyes again.

Katsuki stops over to class, irritated and patience waning since he woke up.

First his mom had to shout him awake, saying that her and the old man will be out to get stuff for White day and all that shit.

Second, he was reminded fucking White day was coming up. The day he was planning on asking that nerd... Before that bastard... No. He shouldn’t think of it. There’s no use thinking about it when he’s been set back by literal years. Him and Deku aren’t a thing yet.

Deku is still the derogatory nickname he used for Izuku for years. It’s not the name of a hero just yet.

Deku, to Katsuki at this point in the timeline, is a useless, Quirkless, weak pebble on the side of the road that Katsuki should not pay mind to.

But Katsuki knows better. He’s a goddamn time traveller, of course he would know better. He knows Deku has a better heart than most Pro Heroes. He knows Deku would sacrifice himself again and again and again to save someone. He knows Deku is stronger than anyone he’s ever met. He knows Deku is the name of a hero, of a Symbol of Hope.

He knows that Deku is the name that brought— will bring hope in people’s hearts. Brought— bring hope in the hearts of Ochako, Tenya, Shouto, Eri, Sir Fucking Nighteye, and various other people.

But to him, Deku is the name of the guy that was always chasing after him. The guy he’s known since they were kids. And while they were never on friendly terms before U.A.. They always had a strange synergy with each other. When they didn’t think about it they moved seamlessly and in tandem with the other.

The first time it happen outside of training and life threatening situations is after they had long since started dating and moved into the same apartment. They were making dinner one night and they weaved and moved around perfectly with the other, passing things along and moving as easily as they would in a battle. The realization that they didn’t say a word to each other during the entire time they were cooking hit them when they were eating as one of them started talking.

They paused, before they broke out in a fit of giggles. A warm fluttering in their hearts as they smiled and laughed so hard that their cheeks started to hurt and they could both barely breathe.

After they calmed down, Izuku sighed, looking at Katsuki with his shining green eyes, “I love you...” He smiled at him with his eyes shining like emeralds reflecting the colour of the sea during sunset.

Katsuki smiled back, “I love you too, dork,” He chuckled, “Now, let’s eat?”

Izuku chuckled, before nodding, “Yeah.”

Katsuki’s heart flutters at the memory, before it painfully coils. He can’t have that now. He can’t have that for a long, long time. He won’t wake up to Izuku’s cute freckled mug in the morning. He won’t come home to cuddle with Izuku on the couch after a rough day. He won’t have the cheesy but nice walks down the park or beach during sunset. He won’t have Izuku looking at him like he’s... no, Izuku already looks up to him. He just won’t have Izuku looking at him the way he looks at Izuku right now.

Katsuki goes out. He doesn’t want to— shouldn’t be home alone right now. He might do something stupid like break a window or make a dent in the wall.

Izuku was pacing through the market, a checklist in hand and a hood over his head.

“Let’s see, I need some chocolate, cream... cocoa powder... caramel... food colouring...” Izuku mutters, as he walks into a grocery store and weaves through the aisles of the store. Briefly glancing up to check the shelves for the item’s he’s looking for and picking out what he needs.

Izuku hums once he’s done, “Perfect! Now I just need to do— Oof!” He bumps into another person while turning the corner.

“Sorry—” The voice sounds familiar... probably one of his classmates... great.

Izuku shakes his head, “No, it’s fin—” Izuku looks up see pale blonde hair and crimson red eyes. His heart stops. No.

“De- Deku...” Kacchan mutters, hesitant and unsure, sounding nothing like the boy Izuku remembers him to be at this time. But Izuku doesn’t notice over the own ache in his heart.

Izuku swallows down the fear in his system, “Ka- Kacchan...”

The two just stand there for a few moments, staring at each other. As if they’re trying to find something that they have already accepted it isn’t there.

He’s not yours yet.

I know.

“We- Well, Kacchan, I- I need to go,” Izuku stutters, hopefully Katsuki doesn’t notice the crack in his voice, taking a step back before walking around Katsuki.

Katsuki breaks out of his haze when Izuku leaves, he sighs and combs a hand through his hair.

Good job, shithead. You scared him.

Shut up... He... he isn’t the... he’s not my Izuku.

Not yet.

Katsuki shakes his head, ignoring the stupidly hopeful whispers in his brain telling him to woo Izuku now and not make the same mistakes as before. He wants to, too. Oh how he fucking wants to. How much he wants to change how he treated Izuku. How much he wants to change how terrible they both were at communicating properly. How... he so badly wants to change how Izuku looks at him, with his pretty eyes staring at him like a rabbit sensing a predator. How Izuku seems to freeze the moment they lock eyes, unmoving and scared. Scared of Katsuki.

Katsuki shakes his head, telling his brain to stop, before he continues buying stuff from the store with the occasional sight of Deku’s fluff green hair.

Katsuki sees the flower display and spots a suisen.

Maybe I should...

Izuku was currently sleeping the warmth of his bed, a warm figure pressed against his back holding him close.

Izuku instinctually snuggles up closer to them, “Kacchan...”

“Mhm,” Katsuki grumbles, nuzzling his face into Izuku’s hair.

A part of Izuku’s brain jolts into awareness, you were sent back. Kacchan shouldn’t be here.

Another part, the selfish, foolish, hopeful part of his brain hopes that it’s a lies and wants this to be real. To just have Katsuki with him, right now. Let him have this. Please.

A soft voice whispers in Izuku’s eat, the warmth of their breath making Izuku shiver, “Deku... I’m not there... wake up, Deku, wake up... I’m not there, bunny.”

“Mhm,” Izuku grumbles in protest, “But you’re right here.” Izuku grabs onto Katsuki’s hand that rests on his chest.

Katsuki sighs, and it’s heavy, tired, and wary, “I’m sorry... but... I’m not. He didn’t send me back... Only you... time for you to wake up, Deku... Izuku, wake up.”

Izuku feels himself trembling, clutching onto the hand holding him close, “Please, let me have this,” Izuku begs, as he feels tears roll down his cheeks, “Just let me have him back, just this one moment. Please.”

Katsuki doesn’t say anything, but the warmth from his form is long gone now that Izuku is aware.

“I’m sorry, bunny.” Izuku can feel Katsuki’s presence fading, he turns to see Katsuki actually fading away like an illusion or a dream.

“Please... no... Kacchan... Katsuki... don’t leave me...” Izuku tries to grab some part of the fading figure.

“Please, Izuku, love, don’t cry. Please.” Katsuki places his palm on Izuku’s cheek and wipes away a few tears. Izuku leans into his touch and places his own palm over Katsuki’s, as he fades away and Izuku is left all alone.

When White Day came, Izuku and Katsuki went by the day as normal. Izuku with his isolation and notes, and Katsuki with his showboating. Neither interacting unless provoked by one of their classmates.

Lunch rolls by and the moment everyone leaves, Izuku places something on Katsuki’s desk.

Katsuki returns with his lackeys near the end of lunch to spot a box of chocolate on his desk with flowers. A white rose, a primrose, a red camellia, and a gladiolus. Katsuki looks at the box and the small bouquet for a moment, before glancing around to try and find Deku.

It couldn’t have... no. It’s probably some other idiot... but did this happen in the first timeline? Maybe I’m going a bit insane... but it could’ve only have been him...

Katsuki gently places the box and flowers in his bag.

The school day has ended, and Izuku isn’t surprised he didn’t receive anything from anyone. But it still hurts. A foolish and selfish part of him had hoped that Katsuki was sent back with him and would give him something, but Izuku knows better than that.

Upon opening his locker, a small note falls out.

‘Happy White Day, bunny~ <3

Love, your’s truly’

Bunny... Only Katsuki has ever...

Izuku’s heart flutters at the possibility.

It... it’s never bad to hope... right?

Inside his locker he finds a few more things, a small arrangement of flowers and a box of chocolates. A daffodil, a white camellia, a yellow camellia, a yellow tulip, and a blue iris that stands out amongst the brighter colours.

Izuku walks home holding the flowers and the box of chocolates close to his heart.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha-angst-week #bnha angst week #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #bakumido #bakudeku #izukatsu #katsudeku #deku #kacchan #off the clock