too young to hold on

The gods are among us.

Zeus drinks himself half to death at the bar. He makes bedroom eyes at every pretty girl to walk in the room. They will clutch their cans of mace a little tighter as they walk home tonight.

Aphrodite helps a beaten girl to her feet, holding her tight as her young body is racked with sobs. Artemis stands nearby, preparing to hunt the thief of this young girl’s innocence. These are the only hunts she participates in anymore.

Athena glares at Ares as bloody knuckles and booted feet connect with battered bodies between them. The fight clubs are their temples now.

Dionysus stands behind a bar, serving drinks to rowdy men and pretty girls. Later, he will be found holding back the hair of girls, too young for the drinks they swallowed, as they vomit the concoctions they drank to forget the pain in the world. Dionysus understands and so he drinks more than anyone, if only to forget the suffering that has filled his immortal life.

Hestia mourns the numerous broken homes. She puts extra effort in protecting the scant few happy families left. So Hestia has created a home for those lost and abandoned, for she too knows how it feels to be cast out by the family who should have loved you unconditionally. She understands what it feels like to be adrift and homeless.

Apollo sits on a busy, crowded street, strumming his guitar and singing a song of loss and pain. He uses poetry and music to mourn the pain in the world. He berates himself constantly, because for every life he saves, ten more are extinguished. He has stopped visiting hospitals because he can’t help but feel his efforts are futile. He hasn’t seen his sister in years, and he misses her most at night, when he can see her beloved stars and moon.

Hermes slumps in a chair, exhausted from the horror gracing the human news. He decides he is no longer deserving of the title “messenger of the gods,” since he hasn’t delivered a message in centuries. Not when the gods no longer keep in touch. So he reverts to his favorite pastime: stealing. But what use is mortal money to a god?

Hera sits in the shadows of a bar and struggles to summon the dredges of the vindictive, jealous anger that used to come so easily to her when she saw her husband with another woman. Hera thinks that perhaps in this modern world, she would do better as the goddess of divorce. Because, really, how can she profess that marriage is the best gift the world has to offer when she can’t even keep her husband in her bed? When he doesn’t even bother pretending that he loves her? Yes, goddess of failed marriages has such a lovely, miserable ring to it.

Poseidon wanders the beach, picking up the scattered trash that poisons his domain. His tears mix with the salt water on his cheeks and he weeps for the suffering of his oceans. He feels the pollution like a phantom pain, and he scoffs at himself, full of loathing for the god of the sea who could not protect his oceans from mortals.

Hades lounges in his extravagant mansion, smiling at his lovely wife curled at his side. Blessed is he, for there will always be death, and mortals will always worship his riches. Of all his siblings, Hades, the scorned brother, cursed to rule the underworld, is the only one to still enjoy immortality.

Persephone is as beautiful as ever and she is happy with her loving husband who always joins her in her protests, right alongside her as she weeps for for the dying of this earth, as she cries herself to sleep at night when she thinks of all the loss of nature’s beauty and life. This world is suffering and she is the only one to hear its cries. They haunt her dreams.

Hecate flips the sign on the window to say closed. She longs for days gone by when people knew the truth. Magic is very real. Instead, she has to smile politely while customers come to her store to purchase items they know not how to use and religious men preach about how witchcraft is a sin, and she will burn in hell. Hecate does not care. She is as immortal as magic.

Cupid narrows his eyes with scorn every time he hears the word love fly from the lips of people who do not understand the meaning of the word. Though who is he to judge them when all his matchmaking attempts end in failure. Perhaps the mortals simple do not want him to decide who they love. Perhaps it is their turn to choose.

Athena prowls through college campuses, holding signs high in protect with the students around her. These fearless children are her people. She scoffs at the professors who are simply going through the motions, who fail to appreciate the brilliant minds all around them. She never fails to notice.

Ares picks his way across a battlefield and finds himself at the ruins of what used to be an elementary school. He no longer understands war, hasn’t for centuries. This was not brave, this was not heroic. This was senseless bloodshed. He sees nothing holy in this ruined world.

Aphrodite swallows the bile in her throat as she hears another rapist has been left free. She glares daggers at boys yelling obscene things at women. She’s long stopped romanticizing love. However, sometimes she sees a young girl handing over her baby to an older couple who tried for years, and she remembers what she once represented. Sometimes she sees Ares across the room of soldiers returning from the horrors of war, and as they embrace the loved ones they left behind, she smiles at him.

Artemis takes her role as protector of young women seriously. There’s a gun tucked into her waistband and a switchblade in her pocket. She can’t save them all, so she has also become an avenging goddess. She can be found in the streets or at battered women’s shelters, preparing for the next hunt.

The gods are dying. The gods wish they were dead. Is immortality a blessing or a curse?

—  The gods were always too human for their divinity (inspired by the writings of @crossroadsbela )
“Growing Up a Winchester”  Sam/Dean x Sister Reader

Word Count: 3,867

Sam and Dean Winchester x Sister Reader, some Castiel x Reader

Summary: While on a long road trip to a hunt, you reminisce about your memories growing up with your brothers, from the best ones, to the worst, to the most awkward.

Warnings: Mentions of death, language, angst, light smut between Cas and the reader

Flashbacks are in italics.

Originally posted by whoeveryoulovethemost

                                                            -

You’re sitting in the backseat of the impala, looking out the window at the scenery. Dean, of course, is driving, and Sam is sitting on the passenger side, sleeping. You have a hard time sleeping in the car, so on long car trips like this, you have a hard time. Thankfully, Dean is usually always awake as well, and serves as your entertainment.

Growing up as the youngest Winchester sibling was not always fun and games, especially being a teenage girl. As much as your brothers love you, they know absolutely nothing about teenage girls. You more often than not felt like you were raising yourself, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Your brothers are your rock, and you would never leave them.

You can barely remember the first time you’d met Dean. Your dad, John, had gotten your mother pregnant and throughout the first four years of your life, he was very in and out of your life. He’d only show up at your house once a year, normally on your birthday. He’d call on holidays, but you were too young to hold a conversation. A little after your fourth birthday, your mother had passed away from cancer. You had nothing and no one else, and your dad John came to your rescue.

“Hey, kiddo.” John had told you, picking you up from the hospital. He looked tired, the bags underneath his eyes more prominent than you had ever seen them.

“Hi.” You say quietly. You didn’t really know what was going on. All you knew was that your mommy was in a better place and you were going to live with your dad. You remember being nervous, because to you, your dad was like a stranger. You knew nothing about him.

“Do you have your stuff? You’re comin’ to stay with me and your brother, Dean. Dean’s excited to meet you, you know.”

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Age Gap Sentence Starters

Both platonic and romantic options. Adjust pronouns as necessary!

“Why do you want to hang out with an old guy/lady like me?”
“Aren’t you a bit too young for this?”
“Aren’t you a bit too old for this?”
“What can I say? I’m mature for my age.”
“You don’t think this is weird? Us hanging out like this?”
“Yeah, I admit it: I’ve got a thing for older guys/women.”
“Does that make me a cougar/rhino?”
“Mm, I do love me some silver fox.”
“My friends won’t quit making fun of me for ‘robbing the cradle.’”
“I don’t care how young/old you are! It won’t change how I feel about you.”
“We’re both legal, consenting adults. What does it matter?”
“Wait, you’re HOW old?!”
“Jeez, you could be my dad/mom!”
“We’re getting some weird looks.”
“I think they think you’re some sort of old pervert.”
“My parents don’t like us hanging out.”
“I don’t get it! We’re not doing anything wrong.”
“I never got along with people my own age.”
“Nobody cares who you hang out with once you hit 30.”
“We just need to hold off until you’re 18.”
“You’re way too young for me.”
“You’re way too old for me!”

9

S I R I U S + R E G U L U S
The brightest stars in the sky

You are loved more than you know. I hereby pledge all of my days to prove it so. Though your heart is far too young to realize the unimaginable light you hold inside, I’ll give you everything I have. I’ll teach you everything I know. I promise I’ll do better. I will always hold you close.
youtube

“Lover, You Should’ve Come Over,”
Jeff Buckley

oh, baby [draco malfoy]

request: “Could u do Draco x reader with prompts 97 and 103 please? It would be so interesting plus I love your writing. You’re so cool xoxo” -anon

word count: ~3000

a/n: why thank u anon, i AM pretty cool! (kidding im actually SO lame like u dont even know omG) anyway i wrote this at like 3 am and im posting it at 5 am so. i’m a few hours late (like a day actually but who’s counting, NOT ME) but happy bday to the real OG man draco malfoy! now enjoy this hot mess of sleep deprivation, angst, snark, and marina and the diamonds inspiration

97: “i don’t want to have a baby.”

103: “i had to see you again.”

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A. 17 is too old to binge eat Oreos.

B. if in the weeks following hot night he ate the sadness from your mouth, your aura turned lavender, your eyes went moony: you’re not in love. say it with me now. sing it like a gospel song, build a church with chicken bones.

C. you we’re alive before he kissed you. you are such goddamn sap it’s pathetic to share a skin with you.

D. don’t think anything has changed just because you feel wanted. you still watch horror movies when you’re sad until you lose your empathetic capacity and stop recoiling when the knife shoves and twists, when you hear bones snap, until bodies look like toys that just have but red stuffing inside and you’re so numb you think you’re in a video game.

E. you’re still not afraid of running with scissors.

F. you still get wet between the legs at the thought of stealing concealer from rite aid.

G. you are still fucked. his tongue will freeze against that heart of yours. don’t kick yourself.

H. you can kill yourself if you want, though, lol.

I. 17 is too old to repeat funny things you hear in movies and slip them into loud group conversations you feel left out of and pretend you made them up.

J. he has an ex, and he told you about the long entangled pain of her hands (probably more feminine than yours) around his heart for 3 years. how did it hurt the most when she finally stopped clogging his arteries with her acrylics? how did it hurt more when she finally let go? she wrote him a poem about the break up, you smirk, and look evil, and try not to laugh, cause in your mind it’s drawn in crayon and rhymes “lies” with “eyes”, and she spent nearly two hours on it, and posted it to her private instagram without context. fucking poem, yeah right. fucking writer, yeah right. you could write a love song about garlic bread and it would make him break down on his knees.

K. in regards to the aforementioned, you are fundamentally mean. you can take pills for that. or: you should take a blade to where that shit lives. you should carve it out and use the hole to hide a flask so you can swallow something to burn the venom when it starts to bubble up again. and it will bubble up again.

L. simultaneously you are kinder than you think. she makes him believe he’s lonely, and so he stays and loves her. you make him believe he’s lovely, and so he leaves and loves himself.

M. you hate your body because you think it’s too strong. you force yourself to eat pounds of sugar so the hem of your skirt will glitter like your eyes don’t, and boys will pay attention to that and not your droopy face. your stomach regurgitates. armor doesn’t work when you wage war with yourself.

N. keep your hair in braids. keep your entitlement on a yoke.

O. you’re old enough now to stop pulling out memories from the back of the fridge at the bottom of the leftovers and force them down my gullet even when their 8 years old and buzzing with mold.

P. you have stopped pretending you don’t have a gag reflex just to get rotten things into you, just to get a boy to swear you’re an angel. (the pretty white birthday cake. with the pink frosting between the layers, with the red frosting “a” in “Happy” smushed into the plastic tupperware like all splat! like red dead bird guts on the window, and everybody stops and turns their heads and is quiet for a in a minute long funeral made of wrinkled skin and blue eyeshadow as high as the eyebrow).

Q. I’m not living off of dead things anymore.

R. yes this is in first person now, I can feel the blood coming back to my toes, pins and needles has never felt this good, I think i love this body,

S. i think I don’t need a reason to live anymore, because I had to die so many times before I could cut this nostalgia out of me, this pregnancy of memories, and eat it raw again like placenta, that blood around my mouth is my search warrant for purpose.

T. And everybody has told me the meaning of life, everybody has told me I look beautiful in white, but I have never agreed with either. But I’m so beautiful in red, when I’m covered in blood. I go all splat, my neck snaps like in the horror movies i have gotten so good at being numb to, and everyone stops and stares.

U. it is a celebration not a funeral, or a celebration of a funeral.

V. but I can use this, this wrench was made for broken things, this fork and knife was not made for surgery, don’t treat yourself like a slab of meat

W. yeah you are not a prodigy in any right, yeah you can be such a bitch sometimes, yeah you have not had real friends in about 2 years, yeah he doesn’t want to fuck you, so don’t be happy. don’t be happy, that way you can cut yourself with this poem and heal yourself with it by the end. get your music on, lock your razor with your pressed flowers, this roadtrip is gonna take sometime, I need to know you’ll stay alive for the whole thing.

X. this is not a happy poem. i don’t know how to write a happy poem yet. this is a poem with both of my eyes open, not written at 3 am. i will write a happy poem when I’m fucking happy, so for now i feed this sad poem the buttercups and raw meat that clot your veins to grow it big and strong

Y. and this monster will come alive to pull me to the light someday.

Z. 17 is before the storm, as traditional as it may be. So run after the ice cream truck, eat all the Oreos you want, buy them with your pocket change, scrape them from the bottom of a glass of milk.

17 is too young to feel so hurt. 17 is to young to hold back like some boring cubicle crony. 17 is too young for all these rules.

—  hey, happy birthday!! the big one seven lmao, what do u want? I mean like if u could have anything, what would u want?

stop, my sweet. I whisper to myself. stop. please. I plead at times. I’m growing, and yet I’m in the same place. Like a houseplant in perfect sun. 

I don't love you. I don’t want to. I won’t settle.

I’d rather sleep with all the windows open in 19 degree weather than keep them all closed and suffocate in the lukewarm stagnant air. 

10 years ago, I struggled to understand my place in a catholic high school with too many people who didn’t care about me because they were too busy caring about themselves. 5 years ago, I was fresh out of college with a beautiful sort of depth, that found me in New York on roof tops being admired and admiring, and in the back of cabs that felt like the first roller coaster I ever rode. 

I’ve never truly understood the concept of a partner, but my seemingly never ending craving for one has educated me in a way that seems fitting. 

Hold on. my sweet. We may be too young. I’ve whispered to myself. I’ve loved across distance. The distance disappears when the person on the other end leaves. 

Push, please. 

What if. It’s the most damaging start to an end I’ve ever known. I put too much stock in the initial touch of my hands to someone who I find a feeling towards. 

I have to survive. And I’m nearly sure I have to shed a part of me that houses more fear than strength. I’m sure. 

anonymous asked:

betty & jughead get married in high school without telling anyone and they find out in school

Ooohhh this ones tricky!
***

“Bets? You ready to go?” Jughead called from the kitchenette, picking up his abandoned beanie and leaning against the bar with a smile as his wife came scrambling out of their tiny bedroom, righting her ponytail and tripping over her little pink flats.

“Never let me sleep in again! I’m pretty much the definition of frazzled right now!” She groaned, picking up her backpack and throwing Jughead the keys to his pickup. Other than his wife and his beanie, that truck was his prized possession, he had saved up money from working at the drive in and it had been his very first purchase, sure working for Fred Andrews definitely payed better but the drive in would always hold a special place in his heart.

Walking out of the trailer the two shared on the southside of town, Betty made sure to double lock the door, all of their neighbors loved the young Newlyweds but it was better to be safe than sorry. Taking her hand in his, she turned him to stare at their home, this was something she always did before they left for the day. Betty always said
“I never want to forget where we came from, you’re dad bought this for us. It’s the best present I could have ever asked for, a home of our very own.”

F.p Jones had delivered them the paperwork the day before they went and got married by the justice of the peace. He owned a few of the trailers, being leader of a prominent gang had its perks I suppose, and he went and picked out the one furthest away from the southside he could, not that Betty minded, she had befriended most of the gang, often inviting the wife’s and their children over for dinner. Jughead had been hesitant to accept the trailer, he wanted to build his own life, at first he didn’t even want his father to be a part of it, but after a long talk with his estranged father, he knew it was for the best and his dad genuinely just wanted to help. F.p and Jugheads relationship was slowly growing stronger and Betty was always right by his side, dubbing F.P her honorary fill in dad, wiggling her eyebrows and smirking. She had a weird crush on the older man

“I don’t have a crush on him Juggie, I just think he’s very attractive. It just means I have something to look forward to when you get older.” She would wink.

The tiny hand on his arm shook him out of his memories and she smiled, tugging him towards the truck, the tiny diamond on her ring finger sparkling. As soon as he got in he wrapped his free hand around his wifes, toying with the tiny ring, he knew she deserved bigger, sparklier, brighter but everytime he brought this up to her she simply shook her hand and grabbed her hand away clutching it to her chest and claimed it was perfect, exactly what she wanted. His wife was crazy. He caught himself smiling as he drove through Riverdale, Betty singing along to the radio and studying her history notes.

Maybe they were too young to be married, maybe they could have waited, but looking over at the love of his life he knew what they had was forever and their was no reason to delay the inevitable, she was everything to him and he never had to wonder if she was going to leave him, she was happy and together they made each other better. It was the definition of unity, sure they had fights, just like every couple but they knew how to solve them, knew how to talk, communicate, it was one of their biggest strong suits.

Pulling into the Riverdale parking lot, Betty sighed, staring at her ring before pocketing the piece of jewelry. She hated hiding something this big from her friends but she knew that once it got out it wouldn’t end well for either of the teens, this town was the epitome of
Judgemental and it was just easier not to talk about.

“You ready Mrs.Jones?” Jughead asked, running a hand over her soft blonde ponytail and kissing her forehead. Betty smiled “you got it Mr.Jones, so I’m working at the flower shop today right after school, you’ll pick me up? Ronnies working at the boutique right next door, she said Smithers would drop me off.” She hopped out of the tall truck and walked beside him as they headed into Riverdale.

“7:00?” He asked as they headed to their lockers.

“Yep.” She beamed at him, God how her smile still made his heart skip was beyond him.

“Well if it isn’t our favorite lovebirds.”
The melodic voice of Veronica Lodge came from behind them as they both turned around to find Kevin, Archie and Veronica headed towards them.

“Hi Ronnie, Kev, Arch” Betty giggled, closing her locker and elbowing Jughead who just grunted and nodded his head before punching fists with Archie.

“What a barbaric show of male masculinity” Kevin rolled his eyes smirking, “we need to borrow your girlfriend, new cheerleading uniforms are in and I want first peeks.” Kevin finished, pulling the pretty blonde from Jughead arm.

Betty rolled her eyes and waved at Jughead and Archie.

Jughead smiled goofily at her, turning to his left he saw Archie eyeing him suspiciously.

“What?” Jughead asked

Archie shrugged his shoulders
“I don’t know, you’re different, ever since you moved back in with your dad you’ve been.. different. Happier? Everything’s going okay?” He could sense the concern In his best friends voice so he clapped a hand to Archie’s shoulder

“Everything’s really good pal.”

The day went by without a hitch until second to last period, Veronica came running into the blue and gold office, her eyes frantic as she sought out Jughead who was fooling around, throwing pretzels at Archie, he sat up right

“Veronica? What’s the matter?”

“It’s Betty, she’s… she’s freaking out.. something about an engagement ring.” Veronica panted, her hands on her knees.

Jughead hopped up, sprinting out of the office and Into the girls locker room, ignoring the gasps of the other cheerleaders, he found his wife on her hands and knees, searching on the ground for what he assumed was her engagement ring.

“Betty…” he stared, bending down to sit beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder, she quickly whipped around, her eyes filled with tears

“It’s gone! Juggie I can’t find it.” She whimpered.

Veronica stepped forward with Archie who looked concerned as Kevin covered his eyes
“I can help” she started “ what are we looking for?”

Betty scrambled
“My engagement ring! We haven’t even gotten our wedding bands yet and I’ve already lost my ring, I was changing into the new uniform and it must have fallen out, why did you marry me juggie? I’m so irresponsible.” She cried onto his chest.

“Married? You’re married?!” Kevin said, his jaw practically on the floor as both Archie and Veronica stared speechless

Jughead pulled Betty against his chest
“It’s just a ring love, it’s okay. We’ll find it, and if we don’t, we’ll get a new one. I love you, that ring doesn’t make you my wife. You’re my wife nonetheless.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and rocked her gently, she sniffled and looked up at him with watery eyes
“I love you.” She whispered.

Suddenly Cheryl stepped forward and cleared her throat
“Is this what you’re looking for?” She held out the tiny ring in between her two fingers almost As if it had germs
“I put it in the lost and found earlier today, you really should have looked there first.” She said gently putting it in Betty’s hand and actually smiling gently before whispering
“Your secret is safe with me.”

Betty looked at gratefully, before standing up and brushing her skirt off, and pressing a kiss to Jughead lips, slowly turning to their friends as the three of them stared with their hands on their hips, the interrogation started before either of the newlyweds had a chance to speak

“For how long?”
“When did this happen? Why wasn’t I invited to the wedding?!”
“So this is why you moved out?!”

Jughead and Betty stayed quiet as their friends bombarded them with questions, finally tiring themselves out.

Jughead wrapped an arm around Betty’s waist and smiled down at her

“I know it’s surprising and we have a lot to explain, come to our place for dinner tonight and we’ll talk about it all.” Betty said gently placing the ring firmly on her finger as her husband brought his lips to her fingers and pressed a butterfly kiss.

Maybe they were too young, and maybe they could’ve waited, but holding his wife and looking at the shocked faces of his friends, he decided once again, why delay the inevitable?

Tonight We Tell Them Everything

Warnings:None

Note:This is just fluff, nothing else really. This can be found on my Ao3 of course. 

Requested: By Anon who asked; “Can I please ask for an Ivar imagine? being Helga and Flokis elder daughter and the love of his life. I get the feeling that she’s calm like her mom and the only person he’d worshup and be romantic.”

You and your mother, Helga are washing some clothing when a young boy comes to tell you that the ships are coming in. Hearing that causes you both to rush to your feet and rush to the docks, Helga ready to see Floki again, and you ready to see both Floki and Ivar. Most of the people of Kattegat can tell that you and Ivar are fond of each other, but they only believe you two to be dear friends. Little do they know, you two have been lover for about a year. The night before they all left, you and Ivar had left the feast without getting spotted. Once you both were alone, Ivar showed you the side he never shows people. You would not say you two just had sex that night, to you and you hope to Ivar, you guys made love. Your face begins to feel warm as you remember that night, the way he treated you it was if you were a piece of glass. He had been so gentle that night, praising you the entire night.

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Little Blue Riding Newt

Based off of this gorgeous, adorable piece of art by @mamin-the-troll
and once the little doodles started coming, I just couldn’t resist writing it. So here it is, Little Blue Riding Newt, the smartest whatever-year-old that ever existed because I don’t know how to fucking write children. Please forgive that quirk.

Additionally, this is now evolving into a full story…so I guess more will be coming soon. XD HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? HOW DID THIS EVOLVE INTO A CHAPTERED THING, I DO NOT KNOW. 

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Monsta X AU part 1

          you x minhyuk

          authors note: this was a dream i had and it was originally going to be a one shot but i got carried away. i kinda based the aesthetic on their music video All In. that’s the look i’m picturing in my brain anyways. 

          summary: you and Minhyuk were all each other had when your family had been killed in a war. you and him had to survive, while trying to keep your old family home from literally falling apart. not to mention, how much longer could you suppress your feeling for him?

          word count: 4095

part 2  part 3  part 4  masterlist

“Minhyuk! This bread is stale!” you shouted from the gray kitchen, hoping your voice reached up into the rooms on the second floor. You began to cut up the bread into slices, even though it had become hard from being out on the counter for a few days. There was nothing else to eat.

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Ice Cream (Youtuber!Jungkook)

Plot: #87: “There was a power outage and now we have to have dinner by candlelight.” + #88: “Our AC is out and it’s the middle of the summer.” with youtuber!Jungkook as a father

Word Count: 1381

A/N: so werewolf!chim as a father is in the works, it’ll most likely be out tomorrow but until then, I have another drabble bc I’ve been loving drabbles hopefully you guys have been liking them as well, I know some people prefer AUs some people like both AUs and drabbles so hopefully you guys are liking both of them, if you’d like to see more of one of them, plz let me know and I’ll try to balance it out more in that one’s favor!! The link for this is youtuber!Jungkook (here) but I decided to add in father!kook (all of the father related posts are here) as well bc I was planning to do a youtuber!BTS as fathers soon and then I got an idea for it when I was reading the prompt and I had to

If there was one thing that could never annoy you, it was being woken up by your children. If it was anyone else waking you up, it might be a different story but waking up to hear their giggles, to see their messy hair, their energetic smiles, it made any annoyance of being woken up disappear. You woke up to your daughter’s hand pressing against your cheek, squishing it under her palm. Your sleepy eyes were slow to open but you couldn’t see much besides her hair, a tired smile appearing on your face when you heard Jungkook’s groan muffled by the pillow as your son walked across his back. You hugged her waist, pulling her down to your height in both an attempt to get her hand off of your cheek as well as giving her a good morning kiss.

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