#ANYWAYS I FINALLY AM DONE WITH THIS QUARTER'S SCHOOL WORK I FINALLY GOT TIME TO DRAW FR

[acekindaneat]

Wawa Month Week 2 - Working Hours (click for a better quality ;-;)

below cut is just the prompt list and a version without bg :]

[m1lflov3rrr]

Hi hiiiiii! Firstly, lemme just say I absolutely ADORE your fics on wattpad and im SO thrilled you're also here on tumblr now??!?!? An absolute treat, this is <3

Anyways as for requests— can I request Larissa and/or Marilyn dealing with Y/N who's got a really bad sleeping schedule thanks to having the WORST case of insomnia? (fluff most appreciated, but IF you want somth more spicy to deal it, I wouldn't say no to it hehe 💕 :3c)

Thank you sm <3

Thank you for the request and so sorry it took literally MONTHS!!! But here it is now!! And thank you for your kind words, means so much to me <3 I really hope you enjoy this, I made a few changes to it. I don’t have that much experience with insomnia, but with sleep deprivation so I wrote about that, I hope it is okay!

No Rest for the Wicked

Pairing: Larissa Weems x fem!reader

Warnings: sleep deprivation, health issues, fainting, worrying, fluff

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: Larissa tries to help you when she notices how little you’re sleeping…

You sighed deeply as you raised your gaze from your laptop and looked out the window. A heavy fog had descended on the school grounds, reaching as far as the tired eye could see. 

The fog was persistent, it was thick. 

You felt like your thoughts were similarly clouded. You smiled at the irony. 

Returning your gaze back to your work, you looked at the time, it was way past 4 am already. Larissa would wake up soon. 

For the past few weeks it had been like this. You were staying up late, only getting a few hours of sleep a night. And sometimes, like tonight, no sleep at all. 

You felt that you didn’t have enough time. The work load you had felt like the weight of the world rested on your shoulders. You had stacks of ungraded papers, lesson plans to finalize, and a curriculum to update. 

You were exhausted. 

You tried your best to hide it, you didn’t want Larissa to get worried. Because her concern would’ve broken your heart. 

Every day went like this: You ’got up’ at 6, prepared for your lessons of the day and started at 8, taught for 8 hours straight, got back to your shared quarters and spent the rest of the night with Larissa. And after she had fallen asleep, you’d finish your work and prepare for the next day. 

You didn’t have the heart to tell your wife how much workload you’d had recently and how overwhelming it was for you. You had had difficulties in the past finding time to spend together, and after months of you both trying to work it out, it was, indeed, working. 

But lately, it had become too much. With the work, of course. You knew that Larissa would get concerned and start panicking and rushing things to make it better. You didn’t want that. She had her own job to do, which definitely had a workload twice as big as yours was. You felt pathetic. Your wife does three times the work you do in a day and you’re still stressed? Yes, pathetic. 

You finished your lesson plans for the day, just to save yourself some time later. 

It was 5:13 am when you were done. You rubbed your temples to ease your already growing headache as you got up from the desk, swayed there for a bit before making your way to the bathroom. 

You winced at your reflection in the mirror. Your dark and puffy undereyes were still there, if not even more bad and noticeable. This was the first time in your 25 years of living that you had had eye bags. You knew it was bad. 

You hopped in the shower to keep yourself up and maybe gather some energy to get through the day. At first the cold water did wake you up a bit more. Then, when you turned it a little bit warmer, you realized how bad of an idea it was. The warm water relaxed all those tense muscles in your body and you closed your eyes to enjoy the feeling. 

And your eyes stayed closed for a bit too long. If you weren’t so tired, you would have laughed at yourself. The image of you half asleep, standing in your shower. What in the actual fuck, really? 

But something made you jump and push your body’s cries for help and sleep to the back of your mind. 

”Darling?” You heard Larissa’s hoarse morning voice call out to you from the door. 

”Mhm?” You hummed as you turned the water back to cold to not almost fall asleep again. 

”Nothing, just wondering how you’re up so early every morning this week, usually it’s a task itself to get you up,” She chuckled at her own words. 

You smiled to yourself and turned the faucet off, stepping out of the shower so you could see her. 

You noticed how she was checking you out, biting her lip as her eyes roamed across your body. You smirked at her as you took your towel and dried yourself, about to wrap it around your bare body. 

She quickly snapped out of her trance and stepped forward, taking the towel in her hands and unwrapping it, causing it to drop on the floor. 

”I don’t think we’ll be needing that.” She said in a low tone as she pulled you flush against her body by your waist, attacking your neck with her mouth. 

You hummed in delight and closed your eyes in satisfaction at the sudden move, wrapping your hands around her neck. 

You let out little gasps, you couldn’t even let out a simple moan because of your sleep-deprived state. 

And it felt so good, feeling your wife’s lips on your neck, still keeping your eyes shut, leaning into her, maybe leaning too much, starting to drift off, losing your balance… 

Your eyes snapped open when your heard Larissa’s sudden, loud gasp, as she had her arms tightly wrapped around your torso to keep you from falling to the hard floor. 

”Darling, what on earth just happened here?!” She asked in shock as you stood up. 

You took a moment to process what she just said, just because you couldn’t think as fast as usual. 

”What? M’sorry, just got a little.. distracted there, I think..” You responded hazily, trying to focus your eyes to look into hers. 

She ducked her head a bit, trying to get a closer look of you and inspecting your condition. ”Are you alright? You had me worried there, are you sure you want to go to work today? You can take the day off, okay?” 

Your eyes widened in panic, ”No, no, Rissa I am absolutely fine, and I will not be taking the day off. You shouldn’t be concerned, I am okay.” You said hurriedly and walked away, leaving your wife standing in the bathroom, extremely confused and concerned. 

-

”Okay, I think it’s time we all head for lunch, see you guys tomorrow!” You announced the class with a smile, packing your things and leaving for the dining hall. As you entered the hall, you seached for your wife with your eyes, as you always ate lunch together. She wasn’t there. 

You yelped loudly when you felt someone grab your shoulder from behind, causing some people nearby to look at your weirdly. You turned around, ”God, you scared me, Rissa,” You breathed out. 

She just responded with a laugh, sliding her arm to the small of your back and guiding you to walk together to get the food. 

As you sat down, you began eating in silence. You opened a can of energy drink, something that you’d been drinking a lot these days. You didn’t usually even drink those that often, but you needed something to keep you up and awake. 

Larissa sent you a scolding look, a frown tugging at her lips. ”Y/N, what’s this?” 

You widened your eyes, you didn’t want her to find out like this. Or any other way. ”Oh, that’s just an energy drink. Thought it might give me a little boost.” 

She narrowed her eyes slightly, ”A boost? Y/N, darling, this isn’t healthy. Are you not sleeping enough?” 

You smiled, but it was forced. ”Rissa, I’m fine. It’s just been a busy week.” 

She sighed, looking at you with worry-filled eyes. ”Y/N, I can see something is going on, don’t shut me out. Whatever it is, I’m here to help you. We’re a team, remember?” 

Your gaze softened, you were really lucky to have her. But you didn’t want her to know. You didn’t want her you worry about you, because when Larissa got worried, it was all she could think about. She couldn’t work, rest, do anything. She’d have to get to the bottom of it. 

You pursed your lips and took her hand in yours, ”I know, and I appreciate that. But I’ve got this, Rissa. Trust me.” 

-

It had been a few days since that, and your condition and fatigue were only growing worse. Your work load seemed to have doubled since that day. You were trying (and struggling) to stay awake with the constant consumption of caffeine. 

The fog was growing thicker and thicker. You barely could see where you were walking. 

Larissa had had enough. She had been watching your extremely concerning situation unfold in the past few days into something much more worrying. She couldn’t bear seeing you suffer like this for a moment longer. This had to end now. 

You were sitting in your classroom, head buried in your hands as you tried to take a deep breath so that the pounding headache you had recently gotten would go away. You’d taken more aspirin than you probably should have, but it didn’t do anything. You were feeling miserable, physically, and that way, emotionally, too. 

Your eyes began to feel heavier and heavier, and you almost didn’t hear the sharp knock on your classroom door. You flinched harshly at that, squeaking a quiet, ”It’s open.” 

You heard the door opening and the familiar clacking of heels filled the room. 

”Darling?” 

Her voice was soft, almost a little wary. 

You raised your gaze to meet hers, ”Yes?” 

Her eyes were filled with concern, barely hidden. ”I’m worried about you. I can see that something’s going on, and if you’d just please, please let me in, I could help you. Okay?” 

You pursed your lips. You knew this was coming. ”Larissa there is absolutely no reason for you to worry. I am fine, okay?” Your voice was a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. 

”No, you’re not.” She snarled, her tone of voice contrasting the one she had just moments prior. ”You’ve been running on fumes for days! Darling, this… this can’t go on any longer.” Her voice broke as her eyes held a silent plea. 

Your jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the floor. ”I can handle it.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, and it was becoming harder and harder to keep convincing yourself that. 

”Y/N you almost collapsed earlier! This can’t go on.” She stepped closer, reaching her hand out to touch your shoulder. 

You shrugged off her touch, ”It was nothing. Just a moment of dizziness.” 

Larissa scoffed, her patience was wearing thin. ”And what happens when it’s not just a moment? What happens when you can’t get back up?” 

Something in that comment did it. Your eyes flashed with fury as your tone of voice turned into one laced with venom.  ”You just don’t get it, Larissa! I can fucking handle myself!” 

Her brows furrowed and you could’ve sworn you almost saw her flinch a little. ”Look, I am not trying to belittle you. I just want and need you to take care of yourself.” 

Your head tilted as your eyes held nothing but defiance in them. You felt your breathing pick up, uncontrollably, and how that pounding headache seemed to double, you started feeling a little lightheaded. But you chose to do what you’d been doing for god knows how long now. You ignored it. 

”I don’t, I don’t need you constantly watching over me.” You said, out of breath. 

Your wife’s expression dropped as she realized your condition and what could be happening next. She approached you cautiously, attempting to try and calm you down. ”Y/N, darling, this is not about control. It’s about caring for you.” She told calmly, cupping your face with her soft palm. 

You shook your head, ”You suffocate me, Larissa! I can’t breathe with you hovering over me all the time!” 

Larissa’s heart sank at that. She never meant for it to come to this. She only wanted the best for you, to protect you. 

”Y/N, please, I…” 

Your breathing laboured and before she could finish, your legs gave way and you collapsed on the cold, hard floor. 

”Y/N!” Larissa’s voice came out as a terrified cry as she rushed forward to try and catch you, but she was too late. 

Tears welled up in her eyes as she knelt beside you, shaking you gently and trying to wake you up. ”Y/N, can you hear me?! Please, say something..” 

Your eyes fluttered open, but you couldn’t focus on anything. Your breathing was still laboured and the words you tried to speak came out as a strained whisper. 

”Y/N, I’m taking you to the infirmary.” She breathed out as she scooped you up in her arms and rushed out the classroom. 

-

Since then, you and Larissa made an agreement. Well, you didn’t have much say in it, since Larissa demanded it. 

Larissa began monitoring your schedule, making sure you were following the new schedule she had made for you. And there was no room for negotiaton, absolutely no exceptions. 

Larissa also began cooking more, preparing the meals with care and love, making sure each one was balanced with important nutrients to get your energy levels for the better. 

Bedtime was the most strictly monitored. As evening approached, Larissa would guide you through a calming routine. She’d prepare a warm bath with your favourite scents, she’d slip in as well and wash your hair for you, massaging your head to calm you down. Then, she’d dress you into comfortable pyjamas and lead you to bed, prepare you a nice cup of tea and dim the lights. 

And she’d lull you to sleep with soothing caresses and words of affirmation, telling you how much she loved you, again and again, kissing your whole body as she did so. 

And it worked perfectly. You were feeling both, physically and mentally better. The dark circles under your eyes were slowly fading away, your energy starting to gain back. You also growed to appreciate your wife a thousand times more.

One evening, you were sitting in your shared bedroom, by your desk. Your laptop was open and you were determined to finish grading some papers for your students. Then, Larissa entered the room, the stern look on her face telling everything. ”Darling, it’s time for dinner.” 

You sighed, closing the laptop as you didn’t want to argue about it. And you were starving too. 

You ate in silence with her, you occasionally stealing glances at her. The way she fussed about your portion sizes, making sure you got the right nutrients for your health - you heart warmed as it was all an expression of love. 

Once you were finished, she led you to bed, undressing you and helping you with your pyjamas. I could’ve done that myself, you thought. 

”Now, off to bed. You need your rest, dearest.” 

You smiled as she laid down next to you, caressing your hair and kissing you softly. And you kissed her back, again and again.  Soon, you fell into a peaceful slumber, under Larissa’s loving gaze. She laid a final kiss on your forehead, ”I love you, my darling.” She whispered before drifting off as well. 

And if you looked outside, you’d have noticed that the fog had finally cleared. 

[philtstone]

24. Showing up injured at their friend/mentor’s house: for shawn? :)

[emerges from writing this fic bloody and beaten and on the verge of collapse] ill explore karen vicks character in an overly complicated post-episode missing scene fic or die trying! set immediately post "right turn or left for dead". i genuinely dont know if im happy with this but i also cant figure out how to fix it. actually, it would have probably been easier to write if i was willing to rewatch the episodes its based on. which i am not, because i am a sensitive little soul. so i winged it. i think there are like 10 different ideas that crop up and theyre all equally fascinating as character threads but i have no idea if i tied them together in an even remotely coherent way. also, WOULD she say that??? i had to call my brother twice to ask. this is what yall get for sending me actually interesting prompts, huh

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Henry’s voice said on the phone. “I’ll send Shawn over with them on his way out. He's going in your direction, anyway.”

In her short tenure as the junior detective to Henry Spencer’s lieutenant, Karen Vick observed two things:

First, that he was a far more clever strategist than most people gave him credit for. Despite the ongoing wreckage of his impending divorce and a kid who was slipping through his fingers as everyone looked on, Karen didn’t agree with the other junior detectives’ impression of him as a smash-the-door-down old school hard ass with thinning hair and a worst attitude. The man played four dimensional chess right out of a bonafide Star Trek episode. When he really wanted something done, Henry Spencer could bullshit and bluff and battle plan with the pros, and half the time you’d get too caught up in the blustering misdirect to realize his game was intricately thought out three steps in advance.

It was how they caught the Shorttown Killer, and also how they got that idiot Trembley at the mayor’s office to finally replace their coffee maker. Karen went home to her then-boyfriend, now-husband, and, right before bed, pulled out an old school workbook and took notes.

The second thing was that Henry Spencer loved his son. 

Not a lot has changed since then, Karen thinks, staring down the weirdness that she now faces through her open front door.

“… Oh — Mr. Spencer,” Karen says, because it’s rude not to greet your employees when they show up at your home outside of work hours, and are also your old friend-slash-colleague’s kid. “Hello. Thanks for — bringing these over.”

“Dad said it was urgent,” Shawn says.

Urgent isn’t quite how Karen would describe it, but hearing through the grapevine that your department might be facing an audit sometime in the next quarter does light a fire under the proverbial ass. Karen would rather bend a few rules and make sure the last year’s i’s and t’s are dotted and crossed right than leave her detectives vulnerable to the whims of a mayoral stooge. 

In general, Karen prides herself on caring about the people under her command just enough that it inspires genuine friendship and loyalty. The just is important. Care needs tempering – it’s important to pull back, press pause, keep certain lines uncrossed. It’s especially important if you want to be successful as a woman in an authority position where lives are often on the line. 

What she’s saying is that she tries to make it none of her business what her employees get up to in their spare time. She really genuinely does. She’s shut O’Hara down gently midway through the twelfth sweetly-frazzled attempt to overshare about her dating life (or her efforts to befriend her next-door neighbor, or the endearing personality quirks of her last cat – rest in peace, Triscuit, you will be missed –) enough times to be well-versed in the art of I Won’t Ask, You Won’t Tell, But You’ll Probably Know I Care Anyway.

An invaluable rapport to maintain. In any situation, Karen thinks, but especially when you’re a person who regularly hires and works alongside Shawn Spencer.

She’s not sure whether what she’s looking at right now makes her want to second guess or double down on her usual policy. 

“Special delivery,” Shawn adds, like everything is super normal.

Karen narrows her eyes. She glances behind them into the quiet residential street.

“Shawn,” she says.

“Yes, Chief?”

“You didn’t drive here, did you?”

“Ha,” he says, half rolling his eyes to accompany a weird aborted grin. “No. Even I don’t think riding a motorcycle with a concussion is a good idea. What if someone who wasn’t me got hurt? That’s — that would be no good, then you’d have to arrest me. Wouldn’t that be a huge bummer for the whole team, Chief? Gus would cry. And my dad wouldn’t let me take his truck.”

Karen stares at him. Shawn stares at the ground.

“I got a cab,” he says.

“And you are … taking another cab – home?”

Shawn looks quite suddenly like he’s going to be sick.

“Sure,” he says. 

Shawn looks terrible. Bruised face, bags under his eyes, and a weird frenetic energy twitching in his limbs that doesn’t pair well with his general air of exhaustion. He’s holding his shoulders stiffly and can barely meet her eye. His t-shirt and sweatpants are rumpled, like he slept in them, even though it’s too early in the evening for Henry to have woken him up to send him here, and when he thrusts the promised files out into the air toward her, abrupt and, admittedly, Shawn-like, he only just hides the awkward wince that immediately overtakes his left side.

The last couple days have been a bit of a whirlwind, so Karen can’t say she necessarily blames herself for not looking more closely. 

Even so.

Slowly, Karen reaches forward and divests him of the case files. They slip a little bit, because Karen can’t seem to stop peering shrewdly at Shawn’s face while she does it, and on instinct he reaches forward to stop the stack from toppling. 

It does help, but the autopilot he moves on makes it harder to mask what is to Karen’s eyes a very obvious flinch. 

“Alright,” is all he says. “Well, good to see you. Time to head back to the old hay stack.”

Like a needle in a haystack and time to hit the hay, Karen supplies needlessly in her own head. Aloud, she says, in many ways against her better judgment, 

“Mr. Spencer, are you okay?”

Shawn sways on the spot for a second, one fist clenched, mouth half open. For a strange moment, Karen gets the impression that he’s trying really hard not to say the wrong thing.

“... As rain,” he finally manages, then nods to himself like he achieved some great feat. “Okay. Well –”

“Did something happen to your shoulder?” 

“What? No!” Shawn’s eyes flutter closed and he shakes his head, “I’m – fine, Chief. It’s not – I mean, I’m – normal, fine. Fine in a normal way.”

“That’s not something an individual who’s fine in a normal way would say,” Karen says. 

“Uh, is it not! It is. I would know, because I am that individual. It’s – I was – there’s just mild – pfft … stab wound – or something, who would even …”

Is Shawn broken? is the unhelpful thought that pops into Karen’s head. She’s never heard an attempt to bullshit collapse so quickly into pathetic nothingness before – certainly not from Shawn.

Perhaps even more than his father, the kid’s a pro.

And then the rest of the sentence catches up with her.

“A mild stab wound?”

Oh boy. She watches Shawn’s eyes widen with the panic that proceeds an unquestionable blunder.

“Chief –” 

“In.”

“Chief, I really, really don’t think –”

“Inside my house. Now.”

He’s certainly uncoordinated enough that he doesn’t put up much of a fight. Karen herds him  through the door as firmly as possible and leads them in a beeline past Richard’s office toward the bathroom, ignoring the reedy stream of consciousness that spills out of Shawn’s mouth as they go.

“Oh, hey, woah, it’s been like forever since I was in here. Did you redecorate? I swear that lamp wasn’t there the last time we visited. It could be the tacos I had earlier, but I’m sensing a distinct neo-modern Chinese aesthetic going on here, Chief, which calls to mind the merits of cultural appreciation in suburban home decor – hey, is that your husband’s office? Can I meet him? Is he home? That man is a true enigma to us, Chief, and it’s leading me to believe that he must possess all the facial and personality qualities of the pop superstar Mr. Pitbull Worldwide –”

Richard is home, actually, and Karen needs to alert him to the fact that they have an unexpected house guest, so, ignoring Shawn completely, she calls out,

“Honey? Shawn Spencer’s here for a couple minutes about a work thing! I’ll go up to put Iris to bed in a second!” in the finely-honed There Are Many Layers Of Complicated To This secret married tone that Richard should probably be able to catch through the closed office door. 

“Alright,” floats out her husband’s pleasant voice. “Tell him hi from me.”

Perfect. There’s about a ninety-three percent chance he understood.

They make it to the bathroom, only stumbling slightly. Shawn says,

“-- or The Rock. Does your husband look like Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson? I really think that would make so many things about the Chief Vick family make sense –”

Karen closes the bathroom door with a snap and crosses her arms.

“Sit,” she says, in a voice that even he knows brooks no argument.

Shawn does. He looks – well, beyond uncomfortable, and more than a little bit miserable, and probably closer to completely dissociating than either of them are prepared for. Karen wonders belatedly if he's gotten any sleep at all in the last forty-eight hours.

“I’m assuming you have not been to the hospital.”

He gives her a baleful look, like he really expected better of her. She only just stops herself from rolling her eyes in response. And there’s that huge goose egg on his forehead, too. What, exactly, he got up to in between Carlton’s wedding reception and oh-eight-hundred hours this morning Karen has no idea, but he looks like someone’s run him through the world’s most aggressive industrial tumble dry cycle and spat him mercilessly back out. 

Or maybe over with a truck.

Sending a silent prayer to the universe that Iris never hit puberty and remains a sweet-tempered six-year-old forever, Karen gets to business.

“Well, I had to at least ask. Shawn. Does it need stitches?” He mumbles the answer the first time, and then looks beyond startled when she grabs him under the chin so he’ll look her in the eye. “Listen. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. But you’re going to tell me the truth. Got it?”

Shawn grimaces so hard at her words it’s almost a flinch. 

“No,” he says finally, clearly enough that she hears him. Karen raises an eyebrow. “No, I don’t think it needs stitches,” he articulates, but doesn’t meet her eye.

“Hm. Alright. I have gauze and tape in the medicine cabinet. Can I … is it alright if I pull up the sleeve of your t-shirt?”

Released from her hold, he groans and presses his face into one palm. “Chief –”

“I don’t really know what you expected, coming here! It’s not like I’m any less of a hardass than your father.”

“Yeah, but I can bitch back at my dad,” Shawn says, sounding like he’s finally realizing the magnitude of his mistake. Karen smiles grimly.

“Tough. Now pull your shirt up while I get the first aid kit.”

While Shawn proceeds to wrestle awkwardly with his t-shirt in a muted shuffle against the toilet seat, Karen rummages efficiently through the cabinet and eyes him through the bathroom mirror. He seems oddly reluctant to expose himself. In fact, in a stark contrast to his usual insistence on making his presence and contributions as obtrusively obvious as possible, Shawn seems intent on shrinking into the aforementioned Asian-flavored floral wallpaper (which does need an update, unfortunately) with all the equanimity of an anxious chameleon. Karen feels her eyebrows crease. Taking the first aid kit in hand, she brings it over and deposits it into his arms, ignoring his small startle.

“How about you hold that,” Karen says. Shawn does, against his chest, like a pillow. She walks around him and surveys the damage, antiseptic gauze in hand.

He wasn’t lying about the severity, at least. It’s a shallow thing, already mostly congealed, and has only stained his shirt in a small smattering spot of crusty brown blood.

Karen swabs at it with the alcohol using light careful fingers.

“Ow, ow ow ah –”

“Don’t be such a baby. It’s hardly a life-threatening injury.”

“Super insightful, Chief,” Shawn snaps, as genuinely sarcastic as he’s probably ever been with her, “never thought of that myself. Totally the reason why I just had to go to the hospital.”

He doesn’t pull away, but she can feel the tension radiating through his back. She blinks, one eyebrow crawling up her forehead. 

Alright then. So that’s how it’s going to be. 

“I’m assuming your father doesn’t know about this,” she says.

Shawn grunts, noncommittal. Huh. Maybe he does know, then, and has just been disallowed from doing anything about it right now.

She tosses the first used antiseptic wipe into the trash.

Goddamn four dimensional chess.

She supposes she’s never been bad at the game. She may as well work her way backwards through the moves: Guster, the most obvious node in Shawn’s turn-to-in-a-crisis-system, would never voluntarily abandon his friend in a time of need, so Karen assumes that whatever this is has either already included his support or not been made known to Gus at all yet. Henry’s likely exhausted his own usefulness in the situation, and Detective O’Hara is …

Karen has to work very hard for her hands not to pause in a way that gives away her hard-earned mental sleuthing. A bad feeling wholly unrelated to her ill-advised hangover of the day before begins to bloom at the back of her gut.

“You have really small hands, Chief.”

Shawn’s voice is notably more subdued than before.

“Do I?” 

“They’re like … little kangaroo hands. Like the mom kangaroo from Whinnie the Pooh.”

“Didn’t you know?” Karen says, not unkindly. “They’re given out at the hospital when all first-time moms leave with their baby.”

He lets out a tired little laugh, more boyish than he probably means it to be, and in spite of herself Karen feels her heart clench. She isn’t blind. In all her last seven years as the leader of their chaotic little precinct, she has never seen Juliet O’Hara look as ill as she did yesterday morning. The usually sweet-faced young woman had all the pallor of a Victorian ghost, and stood so far away from Shawn in any given room that to an unassuming observer he might have had the plague.

There are only a handful of things, Karen thinks, that could have invited that particular evolution in their dynamic. She rips the surgical tape from its canister a little bit more harshly than is strictly necessary and fights the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

“So,” she says conversationally, laying the tape down in neat, gentle little strips, trying not to pinch the wound too tightly. “Any fun plans for the evening?”

Shawn sniffs. She can see him gripping his hands together over his knee from where she stands above him.

“Um, yeah, uh –” he clears his throat, “you know me, Chief. We’re working our way through a Robert Guillame marathon, which means some good old fashioned Benson, running commentary on the quality of that child acting, naturally.”

“Naturally.” 

“Then Gus and I were gonna hit up the new, the new chili cheese joint up by Hermosa, you know – they’re doing sliders –”

“Chili cheese sliders?” Karen hums, contemplative.

“Buy ‘em by the pound,” Shawn agrees. “Then I was thinking of getting a tattoo, maybe a belly button piercing, I’ve been really – really needing a change – would you let Iris get one, if she asked?”

“A tattoo?” Karen clarifies, cutting off the next piece of tape. The skin around the cut is warm to her touch but Shawn’s arms have goosepimpled. The hair at the back of his head sticks up unstyled, like he slept weirdly and couldn’t be bothered to fix it come morning.

“Of a marmoset. That’s what I’m thinking. With distinctly effeminate vibes.”

“Well, Dick hates marmosets. So I’d probably encourage her toward something else. Perhaps a sea lion.”

“Like Shabby.” The nervous note has bled into his legs again, and his earlier subdued tone has gone back to sounding strained. “Yeah, that’ll – that could be it.”

“All in one night, huh?” Karen says.

“I –” Shawn doesn’t even hiss when she presses down with a cotton gauze to cover the last of the thickened blood. His legs are properly jittering again. “I was – yeah, y-you know me, Chief, total night owl.”

“Shawn?”

“Yeah?”

“What about going home?”

Silence. Shawn doesn’t answer for a moment long and pregnant enough that Karen wonders if her question will be ignored entirely. 

Then,

“Chief,” he says finally, in an awful, tiny little voice, “I really, really fucked up.”

Finally, her hands do falter in their ministrations; as emotionally exuberant as Shawn often is, she doesn’t think she’s ever actually heard him close to tears. For a horrible moment she wonders if Shawn Spencer will suddenly start crying atop her toilet seat for reasons neither of them are capable of discussing honestly. Then she wonders if her horror makes her a terrible boss.

Boss – mother – person.

Oh, dear.

She sets down the surgical tape and lays a ginger palm over the newly-bandaged gouge in his shoulder. It’ll probably scar, but not at all badly. She doesn’t like to think about the far more obvious one just below, puckering in a violent yet unassuming divot. Another narrow miss for Henry’s boy. 

At this point there are so many of them to count, Karen has to question the statistical likelihood of the whole thing. Becoming a mathematical anomaly is, Karen can attest with confidence, not exactly the future the Lieutenant Spencer she knew dreamed of for his increasingly unmanageable teenager. 

Doing what he loved, on the other hand – absolutely. Being with a person he loved, even more so. Karen grits her teeth at the irritating web she’s spent the last six years constructing around herself and wonders if this evening right here is some kind of cosmic karma for leaving Iris in the care of nannies for the first three years of her life.

That sounds like the kind of thing those horrible parenting magazines and Karen’s mother-in-law would claim, anyway.

“Shawn,” she says slowly, because she has to at least knock this possibility off the list before risking her career in an attempt to mediate her detectives’ love lives, “did you … you weren’t – unfaithful, were you?”

“What?!” 

Shawn yanks his shoulder away and whirls around to face her with such a look of horrified betrayal on his face that it’s almost comical. 

“No!” 

Thank fucking God, Karen thinks. Aloud, she says,

“Well, I’m sorry, I had to at least ask!”

“No! No! What the hell, Chief!”

“Oh would you be quiet! I’m gathering my evidence here!”

“How could I – I would never – you’d even think that I could –”

“I know! Shawn, for God’s sake –” He’s scrambled to his feet in the cramped bathroom space, glaring, and has probably messed up all that surgical tape in the process. The half open first aid kit and his crumpled shirt press lopsided against his front and her garbage can is now full of oxidizing bits of cotton. Karen officially gives in to the urge to press her palms against her forehead. “I had to ask!” she repeats finally. “You and I both know you’re not gonna give me much else to work with, and you sounded so – so sad!” 

Shawn barks out a hysterical little laugh. Karen almost growls in frustration. 

“I am not going to risk all the very hard-earned rules I have in place without knowing for sure that my instincts aren’t wrong. Is that so hard to appreciate?”

Does it count as sound police work when the framework for your investigation is an unacknowledged lie? Karen doesn’t really know. Probably there’s another math metaphor to be made in there (you screwed your proof from the very beginning, maybe, Richard the professor would definitely have thoughts), or just a straight up joke. How to solve a case that’s cold before it ever has the chance to go live; a cover-up if she ever saw one. Unlikely that O’Hara will peep a word, and things will be a true mess for a few weeks, if she can’t make an educated guess about it. And no one will be explaining anything to Carlton, either …

Right before their goddamn audit, Karen thinks, aggrieved. She wonders if Henry considered this in his calculus. Send Shawn over, have her deal with him. Offer a huge unspoken you’re gonna be walking into a shitstorm tomorrow canary for her perennially chaotic mess of a coal mine. 

She can’t help but feel begrudgingly grateful, but that doesn’t mean she and he won’t be having words about this later.   

“Jesus, Karen,” Shawn mutters, pressing his face back into his free hand. Karen shakes her head and squares her shoulders.

“Well then! Back to the issue. You fucked up.”

“You know what? I can’t talk about this with you.”

“Oh, Mr. Spencer, I assure you I am more than well aware.”

Shawn blinks at her between his fingers, looking genuinely confused for the first time since he showed up at her door. 

Karen does not bother to clear up his confusion; it’s better this way, anyhow.

“Will you be sleeping at Gus’s place or your father’s?” she asks, crossing her arms.

“I’m – I don’t –” Shawn doesn’t meet her eye. The earlier thread of anxiety is back. “I wasn’t …”

So, neither. 

“Put your shirt back on,” she says. “We’re relocating to the living room.”

“Chief –”

“That was an order, Mr. Spencer.”

The living room is as quiet and mundane as it was an hour ago. It’s past Iris’s bedtime – she’ll have to go up, and soon at that. Karen seats her guest, retrieves a mug and a bag of chamomile from the kitchen, and removes the fluffy throw blanket from the basket behind the couch on her way back in. He’s deflated completely by the time the tea and blanket are set in front of him. Small and exhausted. Caught. It’s a horrible way to think about it. But she can’t avoid the hundred yard stare – Karen has seen it one too many times in people only just realizing they’re about to go away for life.

“Shawn,” she says, firm as she can make it. “Drink the tea. You’re dehydrated.”

“I’m … what?”

“Your lips are dry. You shouldn’t be dehydrated with a concussion.”

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and Karen suddenly wonders if he’s going to get up and leave. She has experience with these things – she knows a runner when she sees one.

“I might as well have,” Shawn finally whispers.

She doesn’t catch it the first time. “What?”

“I – I might as well ha – Chief, I …” Deep shuddering breaths. He’s finally shutting down, she realizes. She can’t send him back out like this; Henry would give her the stink eye for a month.

Goddamn Spencers and their goddamn irritating overcomplicated lives.

Karen pushes the tea directly into his hands and tilts her chin so she can meet Shawn’s eye. He’s still lucid enough that she doesn’t think he’ll start hyperventilating, but now that the outrage and adrenaline has worn off, the symptoms of shock are pretty hard to miss. “Shawn,” she says again, and wills for him to understand.

“What if she – what if I never –” He can’t get the full sentence out. He looks at her, eyes wide and terrified.

Life sentence, Karen thinks again. The messy stack of files Shawn brought over sits almost unimportantly on the coffee table between them and a memory comes to her, unbidden, of words penned carefully in the corner of a modified police report that she pulled the minute the door closed on the McCallum case seven years ago. 

Date: May 4th, 1995. Reporting Officer, Spencer, Lt. H. Perpetrator a caucasian male, brown hair, five foot nine, insists on wearing those stupid earrings just to spite me. What the hell do you want me to write here, Chief? Spent two hours in the fucking principal’s office convincing them not to expel him one month off from graduation. All that effort, and I still booked the kid. It’s gonna follow him for life, and it’s gonna be me that did it to him. For life. You think he’ll ever forgive me? He’s the greatest thing in my pathetic little world and he keeps breaking my heart, and I can’t even properly accept that it’s my fault. 

How’s that for a fucking crime.

She needs to go put her daughter to bed. It’s the thought that keeps running through her head, oddly enough, like a strange antidote to the impotent anger and heartbreak and frustration she’s feeling for the people under her care.

With all the notes she took in that little workbook, she still let herself become complicit in the painstaking, convoluted resolution of Henry’s mistakes without accounting for all the variables.  

Richard’s footsteps sound muffled in the next room; he’s made his way upstairs in Karen’s absence. She needs to go. She wants to hear the soft and sleepy love you Mama that with her unpredictable hours and regular long nights isn’t nearly routine enough.

“Shawn,” she says evenly. “Do you love her?”

It’s hard to reconcile the smarmy kid who tried to barter with her for twelve hundred a day with the devastated young man sitting on the couch in front of her.

“Chief …” he starts, barely above a whisper.

“Good. Then she’ll see that. Detective O’Hara is a smart and observant woman. What she chooses to do next is her decision, but … you might be – well, comforted by the fact that she’ll know that – truth.”

Shawn stares at her. The tea steams in front of him, cooling in increments. She takes a deep breath and gets to her feet, patting his uninjured shoulder brusquely. 

“I have to go check on Iris. When I come back down, I can drive you to the Psych office.”

Iris is fast asleep when she gets there. A library book lays open face down over her stomach, and her soft brown hair fans out against the pillow, silhouetted by the soft glow of the unicorn nightlight in the wall above her. Karen turns off the bedside lamp, tucks her daughter in, and kisses her forehead. Just before she leaves, she hears it: murmured, half-awake.

“Love you, Mama.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Karen goes back to her living room, car keys in hand. She’s planned her next move in the driver’s seat enough times throughout her career that it shouldn’t be too hard. 

[whoiskt]

Grad School Q4 - Week 1

All my classes are on Mondays and Wednesdays, so maybe I'll bring this back for Friday summaries.

Here's a Lloyd sketch that might become part of my business card. Working on that right now among many things!

I wasn't really ready to go back to school but rarely in my life have I ever felt that after summer break. This quarter is all required classes, which isn't the most fun but I'll get by okay. Plus, all the classes are pretty much back to back, which gives me such flashbacks to high school, since I'm just in the one building all day.

Anyways, I'm currently kind of nervous because to complete my MFA by the end of summer 2025, I need to go up for review this quarter. But it's required that I have taken 45 credit hours of 700 level courses. Unfortunately, 10 of my 45 credit hours are 500 level courses, so I am technically not eligible. But, since the thesis class is only taught once a year in the winter quarter, missing this milestone would mean pushing my graduation to 2026, which I cannot do, not spiritually and definitely not financially. So, I am asking for an exception to be made, and that is TBD. Because I have a lot riding on this, so I am really very nervous for the answer. We shall see.

I guess worst comes to worst I can switch to an MA. Let's be real... I am not professor material, anyways.

But to get to my week in review: My first class is a writing class. I got excited because I imagined I could do a Lloyd Void spin-off as my main project for this class, one that is geocentric in the sense it would follow my character Earth as a slice of life comedy before the events of LV. However, for this class we were sorted into short groups, and they prefered my sailors and music idea (the one I have been writing as a movie) and I might choose that. I am stuck with the ending, and maybe working that out in the class (since the class is only writing a measly 20 pages) is a fine use of my time as well.

My second class is a studio, and I am making LLOYD VOID KEY ART for the PITCH! This honestly is the most scary thing, because I have to make 9 whole completed illustrations in 10 weeks, and I think my current record for completed illustrations in 10 weeks is something like 4, with some VERY lazy bgs, which I am not allowed here, so wish me luck.

Finally, my last class is something something coloring? Honestly not fully sure but day 1 we had A LOT of hw already due for class 2. (we also had to color a page of a comic but I am not showing that here)

The artist is Lois van Baarle. THIS IS NOT MY ARTWORK I JUST COLORED IT:

Unexpectedly my prof said, "This is very well-done, perhaps even once of the best versions of this I've ever seen." I was shook. I have been studying color all year, trying to get better, but I never expected such a compliment.

I want to get better at reflective lighting still but I have definitely been feeling more confident in palette choices, at least.

Anyways, that's all for now, definitely more artwork to show you next week, bye!

[daemonmatthias]

despite my best efforts at a schedule and socializing... it’s been one of the hardest summers I’ve had in a while.

some of it is big things, like struggling to stick to any kind of schedule I set for myself due to this being the first year my husband’s work schedule is hybrid (he is home every other week, then I am home alone every other week; if it were just one or the other, I’d be fine), and not being able to go on walks due to the heat.

some of it is nebulous things, like needing to save money but then Sales keep happening on things we kinda need/weird things pop up, and my husband is bored af all day at work and then his mood affects mine because i just am sensitive to other people’s moods, and the fact that we need to formally decide if we are moving out of state soon (husband knows his answer, but I am scared/overwhelmed and will have to quit teaching), and that all this weirdness is making it So Hard to Concentrate on Reading, which is usually my solace in the summer.

but honestly, a lot of it is stupid little things and I don’t understand why so many of them are happening all at once. Just since yesterday morning:

the new avocado I needed to quarter for my usual breakfast smoothies refused to yield the pit, which ended up breaking, and I spent a solid 5 min scraping and slicing to be sure there were no remnants

immediately after I finally got that situated, I grabbed the new carton of almond milk, and it was... somehow sealed wrong?? idk how, but it would NOT open. so I tried opening the side to make a spout (like the little milk cartons from school), but that also would not open cleanly. I ended up needing a knife to slice into it. And then I had to go digging for a pitcher we never use to keep it in since the carton was destroyed.

then my nook crapped out on me. [backstory first: 2 months ago, my nook started randomly resetting itself, which deletes all of your side-loaded content. I ended up having to call customer service. They wanted me to hard reset. It took like 1.5 hours on the phone with them because it SAID it was connected to the wifi but then it wouldn’t do the next step of the set up process because it couldn’t find a wifi connection. Finally the set up process actually went through and they were like “ok all good now!” (right. ok. magically fixed the resetting issue by resetting it. yeah.)] Yesterday, while I was in the middle of reading a library book (considered side-loaded content), it reset itself again, which, of course, deleted the book I was reading.

We agreed last time that if it kept happening, I could get a new nook. Unfortunately, the new model doesn’t come out until september and I’m wary of buying another of the same model in case it has the same problem 2 years in (which is past the warranty period, of course). I did decide to pre-order the new one and pray that hard resetting would again “magically fix” the problem for another 2 months.

This morning, I finally made myself start cleaning the porch. This is terrifying because our porch gathers leaf litter like a mofo and I haven’t cleaned it in ages. There are all sorts of spiders and bugs out there. 

AND of course my gardening gloves have been in an unsealed cart out there. they are shot. i will have to do all this bare handed...

I successfully get the pots of dead plants thrown away. I begin to gather the open bags of dirt to throw them away, having to be extra careful of spiders with my bare hands. A wasp starts flying around me. I try but fail miserably to remain calm and run inside. That chore will not get done today, and today was the last day of below 100F/some cloud cover for who knows how long.

Since I can’t do that chore, I check my amazon cart to see if anything we need got put on prime sale. basically... no. I buy it anyway. or try to; the shipping page keeps crapping out on mobile. I move to my computer and finish the purchase on desktop.

now time to pre-order that nook. except it won’t let me sign in. b&n’s website has so many trackers and shit that it breaks firefox sometimes. (is2g i use nook only because others don’t let you completely turn the backlight off, and as soon as my free year of premium membership is up, I’m going back to using bookshop.org for everything.) I switch to chrome (blech) and sign in.

i press ���pay with paypal” and then “complete purchase”. It never pulled up my paypal to let me choose which card to pay with. I have to get into paypal to even figure out which card it payed with. It paid with not the credit card I wanted, not even my default card as selected in paypal, but with our shared checking account. (annoying but no damage done.)

time now to hard reset my nook... oh look, it’s doing the same connected/not connected to the wifi thing. goody...

all this in only the last 30ish hours. and it feels like the whole summer has been like this!

I can’t pretend good things haven’t happened. I visited my family, my bestie visited me and we did a fun craft together, I joined a new public library and love it more than my old one, I hung out with a friend to eat good food and visit a thrift/record store, we FINALLY framed/hung some art and it looks GREAT, I reorganized most of our music so its easier to access, husband made an htpc (home theater computer) so we no longer get youtube ads and he set up plex on it so I can watch the shakespeare plays I have downloaded, I finally made our new 9 delights tracker and it’s almost perfect, I joined my coworker-friend’s book club (bingo card system- good-, but the group read is an author I hate), I crocheted a dog sweater that actually worked (but idk yet if it fits cuz it’s for my parents’ dog), I began the process of switching away from google drive/gmail to something more secure (proton, which I got for almost 50% off).

And there are SO MANY good things coming up: we leave in a couple days to visit the city we might move to, we have tickets to barbie & oppenheimer, we’ll go to a friend’s daughter’s 1st bday party, my besties are coming to visit (museum, escape room, and musical all purchased and lined up!), we’re spending labor day weekend in a luxury cabin in the mountains with friends (owned by one friend’s rich aunt who is not charging/excited to host us), we have tickets to see my fav studio ghibli in theaters in sept., I have tickets to see To Kill a Mockingbird with a coworker-friend, we have ballet tickets for the season...

and yet, I’m struggling daily to complete basic tasks and maintain a positive attitude due to the onslaught of Stupid Little Grievances. :/

[honney-pies]

Ma Cherie will be posted September 15th

omg hey guys, so this week was like the worst thing ever, but it's fine. I'm currently at war with this high schooler since he decided to run a red light directly into the side of my car <3

anyway, because of this i haven't been able to apply that much time on writing. luckily i should be done this friday and it going to be a relatively long chapter. right now i'm about a quarter of the way done and i've written 6.8k which is a lot more than anything i've previously done, but because of this i am posting a teaser for the chapter underneath this! i hope you enjoy, muah!!!!

OH - side note - i also spent time rewriting parts of 'birthday girl' to help it make a little more sense!!!

Teaser for chapter three : what once was

Paring: Inuokku/F! reader

length: 1.02k

─── ⋆⋅ October 2017 ⋅⋆ ─── 

When the exchange event came to its conclusion, (Y/N) hadn’t been as amazing as she had hoped. She didn’t make it to the final round of the one-on-one fights, and she made many mistakes in the group battle. She wished she could have done more, fought more. 

She got too ahead of herself and nearly passed out from blood loss. Yuuta had to carry her around for that last part of the group battle, which she was still incredibly embarrassed about. However he assured her many times he didn’t mind it. She had gotten an earful from Yaga and Satoru, Maki had smacked her in the back of the head, Shoko had looked at her endlessly, but kept her thoughts to herself (not before staring at her in a way that made her feel even more embarrassed than she already was), and somehow Nanami even found out and sent her a wall of text telling her not to act that recklessly again. Inumaki had signed so fast she could barely keep up, and she felt awful for making him worry that much. He had sat next to her until Shoko allowed her to leave.

“Try not to pull a stunt like that again, (Y/N). Too much paperwork.” (Y/N) smiled softly, knowing that she was trying to show her concern without outrightly stating it. 

“I’ll try not to, Sho-nee.” Shoko nodded and shooed her away the second she got a text from Utahime. 

When they went outside, (Y/N) felt her phone buzz in her pocket

‘Incoming call from edgelord supreme’

“Oh, ‘gumi wh-”

“What did you do?” (Y/N) paused for a moment. What did I do?

“... huh?” she heard a long sigh on the other end

“Gojo sent me a text saying you wouldn’t be able to get me from school and you’re practically never late.”

“Aw, were you worried about me?” She smiled.

“Nee-san.” She laughed at the huff he let out.

“Ah, um, well I needed to see Shoko. During the event, I pushed myself pretty hard and so I had to stay in the office for a while. But I’m better now!” She looked at Inumaki who showed her the time. 

“It’s pretty late, did you just get home?”

“...No.” (Y/N) let out a sigh.

“Were you bullying kids again?”

“It’s not bullying if they start it, plus you’re the one who told me that bullying works.” She rolled her eyes.

“I said that ‘cause you’d pour ranch, ranch, all over your fries and then wipe your fingers on your shirt. It was gross, and now you don’t use your shirt as a napkin.” Inumaki was laughing quietly next to her as the two continued walking to their respective dorms. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine, ‘gumi. Nothing I haven’t done before. You had a test today right? How was it?”

“It was fine, I guess. Boring.” She looked around and noticed that Noritoshi was waiting for her on a bench just outside the dorms. 

“Hey, ‘gumi, I gotta go, but I’ll call you back later okay?” He stopped his tangent about this one girl who wouldn’t stop trying to cheat and said okay.

“Can you facetime so I can see the ‘hottie’ you were talking about earlier?”

“Which one?” 

“Black hair guy.”

“Oh, Okkotsu. No, he’s in the infirmary right now, but we’ll call you back okay? We’ll introduce you to him soon.”

“Hi, Inumaki-san. Bye, Inumaki-san.” (Y/N) chuckled before hanging up. 

“Toge, you head back first. I’ll be there in a sec.” He nodded, but not before giving her hand a squeeze. (Y/N) made her way over to her brother and sat down next to him.

“What you did today was reckless.” She groaned.

“Not you too.” He looked over at her, the tiniest traces of a smile on his lips. 

“Yes, me too.” 

“It’s nothing either of us haven’t done before. I don’t know why everyone is acting as if there won’t be days where I’ll be put in a worse situation.” He sighed and looked at her.

“We all know that being a shaman comes with its occupational hazards, but that doesn’t change how -how idiotic you were acting. You were actively drawing blood out of your body and trying to control it with no medium to ease that burden. That’s dangerous! I know that we all will have to put our lives on the line a million times over for this lifestyle, but that doesn’t mean one should seek out death. There is a difference between risking death to win and being willing to die.” She peeked over at him and saw the furrowed brows, his worry lines creased.

“You sound like my dad.” 

“Well Gojo-san is right.” She looks at him with wide eyes before bursting at the seams and letting out a loud laugh. 

“I wasn’t talking about Toru, to be specific, I meant in general.” He glanced towards her and frowned.

“He adopted you, did he not?”

“He did.” He nodded his head before looking back over.

“Is he- is he nice?” (Y/N) looked at him before smiling.

“He’s the best dad I could’ve asked for.” Noritoshi looked down at the ground, a smile fully formed on his lips.

“That’s good.” She glanced at him a couple times before she began to fidget, picking at her nail beds.

“I… I’m sorry for making you worry. I’ll be more careful in the future.” She moved her body to face his. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around him. He froze for a second before wrapping his arms around her.

“I’m sorry for not being there for you and not being a good brother, (Y/N).” She felt her emotions bubble their way to the surface.

“I forgive you. It’s not like I was the best sister either. Thank you for being here for me now.” They sat like that for a while, not moving. 

That night they opened their hearts for one another, letting each other in. In the future they would slowly grow a bond and finally become the siblings they have longed to be for the other. But that’s the future. Tonight was the first step into becoming a family, towards healing.

_______________________

taglist:

@staygoldsquatchling02

@illyrian-moonswarrior

[rogesims]

A New Generation Starts!

The boys woke up early the next day. There was something Leo wanted to do before they left.

"Would you go back to Dorothy's with me? I want to get that SSAI thing their number. You're right. I should just go for it."

"aaaaand, done! I just hope there are mods enough to make this other High School work now."

When Leo got home to tell Moe the news, she had some news too.

"This comes right on time. I guess you're gonna carry the legacy torch on your own now, son!"

"As you know, pumpkin, the baby is coming and we'd have to move to a larger space anyway. And I got a job proposal in San Myshuno. So I guess you'll be emancipated"

"I'm gonna have my OWN PLACE? OMW!"

A politician named Victor Feng was running for statesperson and needed someone trustworthy to run his campaign.

"I am Victor Feng and I promise that I WILL fight for freerealestate on for every starting family, ever!"

Moe told him she has been hired to become Feng's Campaign Manager. He thought she was simply perfect for the job. 

And with this very subtle time jump, I present you the gen 2 Harrises new place in the Arts Quarter in San Myshuno!

Along with their new place and their step down from the legacy, Tito and Moe got a makeover! The new Harris baby is due any moment now!

The family's old place was kept by Willow, who moved from the garage to the master bedroom. Leo's old bedroom became her office and Robotics lab! 

And finally, welcome to our new home, apartment 51 at 18 Celebration Way! 

Here's the living room, kitchen, and the garden/laundry!

This is the apartment hallway, which has a window to the household's new school, the San Sequoia Arts Institute. And Dani's room!

This is Leo and Marcos's room. Leo will also stream from here!

Another lot that must also be shown is apartment 3A at 23 Eucalyptus Lane, where Ash, Kevin and Molly will live! This gang is a creative bunch so everyone was able to move and enroll at the Institute. 

This is Mol's room, and the other is Ash and Kev’s!

[rogesimstest]

  A New Generation Starts!

The boys woke up early the next day. There was something Leo wanted to do before they left.

"Would you go back to Dorothy's with me? I want to get that SSAI thing their number. You're right. I should just go for it."

"aaaaand, done! I just hope there are mods enough to make this other High School work now."

When Leo got home to tell Moe the news, she had some news too.

"This comes right on time. I guess you're gonna carry the legacy torch on your own now, son!"

"As you know, pumpkin, the baby is coming and we'd have to move to a larger space anyway. And I got a job proposal in San Myshuno. So I guess you'll be emancipated"

"I'm gonna have my OWN PLACE? OMW!"

A politician named Victor Feng was running for statesperson and needed someone trustworthy to run his campaign.

"I am Victor Feng and I promise that I WILL fight for freerealestate on for every starting family, ever!"

Moe told him she has been hired to become Feng's Campaign Manager. He thought she was simply perfect for the job.

And with this very subtle time jump, I present you the gen 2 Harrises new place in the Arts Quarter in San Myshuno!

Along with their new place and their step down from the legacy, Tito and Moe got a makeover! The new Harris baby is due any moment now!

The family's old place was kept by Willow, who moved from the garage to the master bedroom. Leo's old bedroom became her office and Robotics lab!

And finally, welcome to our new home, apartment 51 at 18 Celebration Way!

Here's the living room, kitchen, and the garden/laundry!

This is the apartment hallway, which has a window to the household's new school, the San Sequoia Arts Institute. And Dani's room!

This is Leo and Marcos's room. Leo will also stream from here!

Another lot that must also be shown is apartment 3A at 23 Eucalyptus Lane, where Ash, Kevin and Molly will live! This gang is a creative bunch so everyone was able to move and enroll at the Institute.

This is Mol's room, and the other is Ash and Kev’s!

 ​

[luv-beam]

dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to memorialize user sungbeam after WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT WAS AKFNKWNDKDND

IF TUMBLR DOESNT WORK WITH ME I AM JUMPING OFF THE ROOF—

currently,, it has been *checks watch* seven minutes since i finished the finale and TELL ME WHY (insert backstreet boys) this feels like the ending to a feel good, coming of age, teenage tv show :'))))) like it's not like one of those ass cringy teen dramas, but just,,,, low-key just a kdrama??? but a lot less dramatic if that makes any sense 😭💀

anyways :'))))) wanted to say that i am so very proud of you for all of this hard work. like, i already spilled my live reactions on the doc but yeah, just a solid reiteration that my heart belongs to u and this fic frfr i need a hug now .

and just????? im still speechless my brain is just BUZZING and making white noise like i haven't really soaked this shit into my brain yet it still thinks im gonna go back and be able to read more BUT I CANT AKFNSKFNKDJDKDB (out of all the reason i keep on going, you are my favorite ????? OF LINKED ARMS AND BRUISED HEARTS, BUT U HOLD MY BROKEN PIECES TOGERHER LIKE A KALEIDOSCOPE??????? ALL THIS TIME— ALL THIS TIME, YOUR LOVE WAS THE ONE I'VE DESIRED AND LONGED FOR AND YEARNED FOR AND I LOVE U I LOVE U I LOVE U)

as u can see ahem . im not doing very well.

all throughout reading this part, i couldn't help but picture how every shot could be done like it was like a tv show kfbskjfkd which is weird cuz that didn't exactly happen in my brain whole reading the two prior. and if i ever get to write a show..... it would HAVE to be something like this. the way the flashbacks could be incorporated and the music choices and the EVERYTHING SKFNKEJDKDJD sorry i will shut up about this now !!!

and i didn't talk about this in my chaotic ramblings on the doc, but when yn and changmin were on the train back home on new years, it made me so bittersweet. i remember when i had to fly back to school alone on new years day while everyone else i knew got to spend more time w friends and family. i was alone and depressed and stressed and so anxious for the new quarter, and having to leave my mom and brother that day and so early too just made me wanna die. and just reading that part w changyn was almost .... healing? idk. i just wished i had someone to hold onto like that. leaving ones hometown def is one of the hardest things one can do

AND all of the thematic work and motifs about friendship and platonic love throughout :'))) im just like so bittersweet sknfksnfkdn esp like kevins speech at the end made me feel like it really was the end, and a new chapter was rising. one day, i'll make bonds like these... one day.

anyways, i think that's all my thumbs can say lol they're a little angry at me for putting them thru all this manic typing WHOOPS but i love u moni, im so proud of u, and mwah 😚💖

[part three] of linked arms and bruised hearts (you are the reason i keep on going) ➵ ji changmin

non-idol!ji changmin x reader, slight non-idol!jacob bae x reader

you and changmin have been best friends since high school, having seen each other at their best and worst. now in your second year of university, you are given the opportunity to work with the unattainable 5th-year you have had a crush on since—jacob bae. with your best friend on the receiving end of your rambles, you could only hope for something to come out of your time working with jacob. that is until changmin decides he wants something more out of his relationship with you.

genre/warnings ➵ friends to lovers, slow burn, so much FLUFF, afab reader (they/them pronouns), slice of life, so much platonic love in general, suggestive themes, expect a lot of sentimental talks and bantering between changmin and reader, a lot of publication talk (a lot heavier for this chapter but i swear it plays a big role!! sorry i am a writer), light angst on jacob's end (i'm sorry baby), kind of shit opinion piece though (i literally don't know how to write that shit i'm sorry for the writers who read this and are knowledgeable about it!!) kissing and poetic words both from reader and changmin, very minimal chanhee x hyunjae x younghoon, a lot of tearjerker moments

word count ➵ 26k words

parts ➵ check out the series masterlist

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @sungbeam @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel

a/n ➵ oh i can't believe i finally finished this :') i'm very sad that i have concluded the journey of reader, changmin, chanhee, sunwoo, kevin, and jacob. this story feels more like a commemoration of friendships under the guise of a romance-centric one, if i'm going to be honest. and i'm glad i took my time crafting a universe that shows just how strong and beautiful friendships are overall. i hope that this fic brought you as much comfort as i did writing it </3 you can check my full author’s note here. i would really appreciate it if you could take the time to reblog this.

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! main masterlist

When the morning comes, every part of you is ridden with anxiety. Not a wink of sleep was gotten as your mind kept drifting everywhere. How can you like your best friend? This is Changmin; the one who intimidated you at the first meeting; the one who likes to make fun of you and your stupid decisions. This is the same boy who you saw in that god-forbidden shaggy haircut back in high school.

And how did it take five years for you to figure that out? Have you just always liked him? That would be impossible, right? And are you even sure you like him like that? Is this not another case of you mistaking platonic love for a romantic one?

Your eyes look at the clock that sits on the bedside table, showing that it is 9:24 AM. With a sigh, you look up to the ceiling with a rattled brain. Clouds of thoughts kept appearing even in your exhausted state. What does it mean to like your best friend? Is this not a threat to the friendship you have spent building over the years? 

And yet, when the image of Changmin comes into your mind, you almost want to scream. Even the thought of him makes you want to vomit your guts out. Your best friend is just an average-looking guy. How can you like him after liking Jacob? God, do you not like the senior anymore?

Before you can entertain such thoughts, you hear someone knock on the door. You quickly sit up and rub your eyes before getting off the bed. In hopes you have gotten rid of any possible sign of exhaustion, you open the door expecting to be met with one of Changmin’s sisters or his mom. But when your eyes land on the boy who has occupied every corner of your mind, your eyes widen in shock.

There he stood—fluffy hair and the same white shirt and navy shorts that you saw him in last night. His face was somewhat puffy from the sleep, but you could notice that his eyes were still droopy. And you fully expect yourself to snap back to reality—remember that he is just an average guy who happens to be your best friend. But god, the sight of him makes you realize that he is nothing like that. This particular view of him is almost too domestic, one that makes you imagine what it would be like to fall asleep and wake up in his embrace. And oh god, he is so absolutely fucked for showing up at your door like this.

At the sight of your shocked expression, Changmin cannot help but furrow his eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you choke out quickly as your expression starts to ease back to some normalcy. “W–what’s up?”

With narrow eyes, he says, “Uh, I just wanted to make sure you were awake. We’ll leave after lunch to catch the 2 PM train back.” As soon as you shoot him nothing but a nod, he looks you up and down. “... Okay, I’ll see you in the living room.” After giving him another nod, you quickly shut the door. You let your forehead rest on the door.

When it comes to having a crush, it is nothing but an easy ride, almost like breaking into a new pair of shoes. But liking your best friend? It is only a slippery slope, one that has you falling into the unexpected—the question is if you will come out with linked arms or a bruised heart.

“Y/N-ah, I don’t want you to leave on New Year’s,” Changmin’s mom says with her arms wrapped around you. As your chin rests on her shoulder, your eyes land on your best friend who is hugging his dad goodbye. “I mean,” she stops hugging you and rests her hands on your shoulders. “I just loved having you around the house. It feels like old times when you and Sunwoo would keep me company when Changmin went off to college.” The bittersweet smile on her face is a reminder of how much you have grown to be part of the family.

“Eomma, I’ll be back,” you assure her with a soft smile. She pinches your cheek just like how she first saw you back in the Ji household.

As soon as she lets go of you, she approaches her son to engulf him in a hug. You always knew that his mother misses his presence even more with every day that passes. So when it comes to seeing Changmin melt into his mother’s embrace, you feel your heartstrings tug at the sight. You do not listen to their conversation for it is their moment to share.

Once the two stopped hugging each other, Changmin quickly walked to the spot beside you. “I’ll see you again for graduation.” And when he suddenly links his arm with yours, your breath hitches. It is not that you are uncomfortable doing such in front of his family. Rather, it is your newfound feelings that make you hyperaware of every action.

But when his family shoots you two warm smiles, you feel your shoulders let loose. “You two take care of each other, okay?” His dad orders. And when you take a look at the boy who stands beside you, his eyes are already on you.

“Of course,” your best friend says with his eyes still on you. When his lips turn into a smile, every part of you finds itself melting. “We’ll always have each other.” The moment he looks away from you has you snapping your head back to the family in front of you. You do not miss the teasing smiles that come from his sisters.

“I’m glad you two have each other until now.” Yuna takes a glance at her sister. “I mean, you can see how Hanhee and Byungho are still together—I’m sure it’ll be the same for you two.”

You find yourself flustered over her statement, only realizing the hidden implications of her comparing you two with the other pair. But when you hear your best friend hum, you look at him to only see that godforsaken smile. His grin does nothing but wonders for you; it tugs on your heartstrings; it eases all your anxieties; it proves that everything good in this world is stored in one human named Ji Changmin.

And his reaction only has you hoping for the same thing for you and your best friend. Because who cares if you started to like him in that way? On New Year’s, you are still with him. What matters most is that you guys will stick like glue until the end—your friend group should remain together and withstand the test of time.

“Hey, you’ll be late for your train back,” Hanhee speaks up with a bittersweet smile on her face. When you look down at your phone, you notice that there are fifteen minutes left until the train departs.

With a sigh, you say, “Thank you again, and happy new year! I’ll see you again.” And just like that, you and Changmin bid farewell to the Ji family and your home as well. 

Leaving Cheongju will never be easy. This town has everything you grew up with; the swing set that Sunwoo pushed you off too hard which caused the scar on your knee; the marts your friend group of three would rush to once you were dismissed; the familiar faces of your best friends’ families. And having to say goodbye to this place almost felt like saying farewell to a piece of you that you never want to let go.

But the reality is that you are not leaving forever—it is only a “see you” until you close the chapter you are currently in. And the past still lives within you, for you are a kaleidoscope of everything that you have learned to love, hate, and grow with.

You and Changmin dragged the luggage with arms still linked with one another until you finally arrived at the platform. Once your best friend shows your tickets to the man stationed, he gives you a nod and allows you to enter the train.

The two of you walked until you stood in front of your booked seats. Before you could grab onto your luggage, your best friend has already carried it to store in the overhead bin. “Hey, I can handle it.”

Changmin cannot help but chuckle at your statement. “Just take a seat.” You roll your eyes before taking a seat by the window. As soon as your best friend stores his luggage beside yours, he takes his spot in the chair beside you and lets out a sigh. Before you know it, the doors have closed and you are on your way back to university.

You cannot help but look through the window. Your eyes catch sight of the town you had to say goodbye to; some buildings have lost their color; the snow is slowly melting away; unfamiliar faces spread throughout the settlement. The city is not the same, but it will always be the place you love.

“Leaving Cheongju is never easy.” You are snapped out of your thoughts by your best friend who suddenly shares his thoughts. Once you look at him, you notice a sigh leave his mouth as his eyes look through the window. “I get homesick, especially when I think about Gana or Minho’s tteokbokki. I can only imagine how much harder it is for you since you haven’t been here in years.”

And you thought you would agree with his last sentence because this town carries everything that matters—from the memories to the people that you grew up with. But when you look at him, you allow yourself to smile. There is a reason why you were able to withstand being away from Cheongju—it just so happens to be because of the boy who sits beside you.

“You know what got me through it all?” As soon as he looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, you grab his hand to intertwine your fingers with his. “You. You’re a piece of Cheongju that will heal me of anything.”

You do not miss the way his eyes widen at your words. But the moment he starts to smile is something you will forever imprint on your mind. You look back through the window and notice that the scenery has changed to the rural areas.

“I never got to say this but I saw the stack you kept—the clippings of my articles from university.” When you feel his grip suddenly become looser, you look at your best friend whose face is painted with shock. “I never knew you would continue keeping my articles like you did back in high school.”

His gaze softens. “Of course I do, you’re my favorite writer.” You pout at his words. “I look forward to your articles. You’re doing good work, always.”

Everything about his words will remind you of a love so pure—one that you know you have the privilege of experiencing. You know you are lucky to have a best friend like him. Not everyone can say they are supported by someone in the same way he supports you. And you are thankful for everything he has done for you.

You look away from him so that you can rest your head on his shoulder. As you look at the passing scenery of greens and blues, you smile to yourself. “Happy New Year, Changmin,” you whisper out. You feel the way his shoulders move as he slowly breathes in and out. “I’m glad that we found our way to each other.”

The two of you sit in silence. The ever-changing scenery is enough to keep you distracted. But most of all, his heat is enough to lull you into slumber—one that you can only imagine how it would be like to fall asleep and wake up in his embrace. Another year has passed and you two are still together—you can only hope for a lifetime with him.

After getting off the train, you two continued to hold hands while making your way to the taxi stand. The area is not too busy despite it being New Year’s which would make it easy for you to find a ride back to your place. But a part of you wishes that there were long lines of people trying to catch a ride—maybe then it would be the perfect excuse to still stay with your best friend.

You turn your head to the right to face the guy who still held your hand. He lets out a sigh with a downcast gaze. “I guess this is where we part ways for now,” he mumbles before looking back at you.

“Yeah.” You smile as you turn your body to face him. “Thank you, again.” You look down at your hand that holds his. “I’m glad you let me spend time with you and your family for the break. I thought I would be fine staying at home but I realized that I would’ve been too lonely in the end.”

As soon as you let out a deep breath, you look back up to him who has a smile. “Hey, I’m glad you joined us. I’m sure my family loved having you over and would definitely keep the offer available anytime.”

For a moment, you two just smile at each other and occasionally look down at your linked hands. You both knew you were going to see each other in a few days, so why did it feel hard to say goodbye for now?

And before you know it, Changmin pulls your hand close to him so that he can bring you into an embrace. Your breath hitches at the sudden action—you are sure he heard it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–” Your arms find themselves wrapping around his waist before he can remove his off of you.

“It’s okay,” you whisper into his ear as your chin rests on his shoulder. “Just–let’s just stay like this.” And he followed, bringing you closer to him. He found his face snuggled against your shoulder.

Your eyes close for a moment. As your mind replays the events of the trip, you let out a sigh of contentment. You expected your break to be another time of slouching around doing absolutely nothing. Yet, this trip healed you of everything—it allowed you to live the life that you never gave yourself to reminisce about since entering university. But most of all, it gave you a moment of clarity that you desperately needed.

As soon as your arms started to loosen their grip on his waist, his arms let go of you. You two stood in front of each other with small smiles. “I’ll see you in two days, okay?” When you earn a nod from him, you look at the line of taxis. And before you know it, you dragged yourself and your luggage to one of the cars, not looking back to your best friend.

“What could you have possibly needed me for that could not wait until the semester started?” Sunwoo groans as he flops down on the chair by your desk. Currently, you are sitting up in your bed with your iPad lying around.

“Well, the semester is tomorrow! And I’m sure you would want to hear this.” Despite your attempt to explain your urgency (which is practically forcing him to visit you as soon as he arrives back), your best friend cannot help but frown at you.

It has been a day since you last saw Changmin—two days since you came to terms with your feelings toward him. Since the revelation, you have not gotten a wink of sleep. You were up in your thoughts as you kept constantly debating whether what you felt was platonic or romantic.

So when you called your best friend about a supposed emergency without allowing him to ask any questions, he had to hear you out. “Have you noticed that I haven’t unpacked my shit? I practically came rushing here!”

“And that’s how I know you’re a good friend.”

He stands up and says, “I’m going to leave now.”

“No! Wait!” Your frazzled reaction has him eyeing you down. As soon as you let out a sigh, you say, “Please, it is urgent. I’ll even treat you to lunch and help you unpack.” You look down at your hands. “I need to let this out or it will eat me up.”

The moment you let those words leave your mouth, you look back up to see Sunwoo with a worried expression. And just like that, he brings the chair closer to your bed so that he is within arms-length from you. He takes a seat and says, “Okay, I’m here. Tell me what’s going on.”

You find your eyes falling back to your hands that pick on the skin around your nails. It is silent for a moment. Your best friend gives you the time you need to muster up the courage to say what is on your mind. The moment your eyes land back on the boy who sits on the chair, you feel the words get stuck in your throat.

“I–god, this is harder than I thought,” you laugh to yourself as you shake your head.

Sunwoo chuckles. “You’re okay, it’s just me.”

You let out a sigh before sharing, “I think something changed during that trip.” When you are met with his confused expression, you scratch the back of your neck. “I think I like Changmin.”

“You do?!” The way Sunwoo shoots up from his seat has you clutching your chest, shocked by his sudden outburst.

“Jesus, Sunwoo! You practically gave me a heart attack.” Although you scold him, he pays no attention to whatever you have to say.

“I can’t believe you like Changmin!”

You roll your eyes. “I said I think, I’m not sure if I do yet.”

“You said yet. Oh my god, you do like him!” The boy continues to exclaim despite your annoyed expression.

You let out a frustrated sigh as you bite the inside of your cheek. “Okay, maybe I do.” As you whisper those words, you hear the way Sunwoo gasps. “But I don’t know if this is just me mistaking platonic love with romantic one like before with, you know, you.”

All your best friend does is roll his eyes. “Okay, but this is different!” Despite the worry-free smile on his face, you frown.

“How is it any different? Sunwoo, this is me liking my Changmin out of the blue. I’m pretty sure my crush on you played out the same way,” you argue before crossing your arms.

You expect some type of explanation from your best friend. Maybe he could give you some clarity since you desperately need it. But you are met with an answer that does nothing to help you out. “I don’t know—it just is.” You cannot help but let out a sigh. “Okay, why don’t you give me the full story first? Maybe I can help you out,” he offers with a smile as he grabs onto your shoulder.

And just like that, you gave him a recap of what occurred between you and Changmin during the trip—when you found the stack of clippings of your recent articles from the university’s papers to the hug you shared before parting ways. Every time you mentioned a new moment shared, you always found yourself looking up to your best friend who only listened. For once, he did not react or comment like he used to when you shared about your adventures with Jacob.

The moment you finish sharing, Sunwoo lets out a hum as his hands find their place back in the pocket of his hoodie. “You know, Y/N, I think you should just allow yourself to feel whatever you feel. Let it play out, and everything will make sense to you.” He watches you look down at your hands once more. “I know I say this all the time but I mean it, especially now. You’ll only be able to figure this out only with time.”

You hate that your best friend makes sense. When you opened up about your hesitation regarding what you want with Jacob, Sunwoo and Changmin always told you that only time could tell you such. And you did listen to their advice—only to be led to a spot where you are now liking the one person you did not want to jeopardize your friendship with.

“Hey, I know that look,” Sunwoo snaps you out of your thoughts. “You need to stop thinking too hard about it, and just let yourself feel what you want to feel.”

“But I don’t want to ruin what I already have with Changmin just because I can’t figure out if these newfound feelings are genuine or just from me being lonely,” you counter.

Your hesitation is valid. Considering that these feelings you harbor are towards your best friend, the stakes seem higher. You do not want your own emotions to throw away years of friendship. So you hope that Sunwoo can give you the answer that will ease all your worries.

Your best friend bites the inside of his cheek as he stares you down. “Y/N, I’ll ask you this: Do you love him?” As your eyebrows shoot up at his sudden use of the ‘l’ term, he shakes his head. “I’m talking about in general—don’t think about the romantic or platonic bullshit.”

Of course, you do—you love your best friends for they have been with you for every achievement and hardship faced. The love you have for the three demons is something that can never be challenged. You are here because they are your reasons to keep on going, no matter how difficult the journey may be. 

Although you give him a nod, he sighs. Confused by his reaction, you find yourself frowning. That is until he asks you another question. “Is the love that you feel for him the same type that you experience with me or Chanhee?” And just like that, you feel your breath hitch. The frown leaves your face as your eyes widen at the sudden question.

Sunwoo shows you a small smile. “I think you know your answer then.”

The second semester has commenced. Although you expect to find yourself sitting with your friends by the spot that you four sort of claim, you are sitting in Morning Roasters alone. The thing is you are waiting for someone in particular to come—the 5th-year who is not as unattainable as you thought would be.

You two were supposed to schedule another date as soon as the second semester came. Jacob actually messaged you first regarding your availability. But when you told him that you needed to have a sit down with him, he then knew that the date would have to wait. 

When he comes into the cafe, your eyes lock with his. You expect to see that typical smile that he always flashes at you. But instead, he only shows you a small one—almost bittersweet. The moment he takes a seat on the chair across from you, you take a sip of your chai latte.

“Hi, Jacob,” you greet him with a small smile. “I’m sorry about this. I just need to talk to you about something before we plan anything.” The chuckle that leaves your mouth is awkward.

“It’s fine,” he voices out, finally showing you that sweet smile. “I don’t mind seeing you—with or without dates.” Guilt rips and tears every part of you.

You both know what is going to be said. If anything, his words are an indicator that he prepared for your news—one that will break his heart. You wish that it did not have to play out like this, but it would be unfair to you both if you kept going on these dates without being honest.

Sighing, you manage to start, “Jacob, I really like you.” You slip out an embarrassing chuckle which only makes him smile. “I remember the first time I met you was at that one meeting Kevin held for the Features staff. I was the new recruit, and I can remember how scared I was until my eyes landed on you.”

“You know, the aura you brought around is just so comforting, and I think that’s what made me drawn to you. I have always thought of you as the senior who I want to be around—to get to know more throughout my stay. And when I didn’t get that opportunity to work with you in my first year, I thought you would only remain that unattainable senior who would plague my mind with ‘what-ifs’.” Your eyes drift down to your hands that are folded on your lap.

“I can remember how much I talked about you to my best friends. I mean, not only were you kind but you’re an amazing writer. I hoped that by some miracle, I could work with you. And somehow, the universe listened.” You now look up to the boy who sits there with a small smile. “In my time working with you, I have enjoyed every interview, every section close, every unofficial date. And I got to know you more outside of the persona I’ve created in my mind.”

You have only said good things because Jacob is nothing but good. In your time knowing him, he has shown you genuineness and kindness. He is everything green—from the way he treats you to the way he handles every article with utmost care. The 5th-year is who you should desire, and yet, you cannot bring yourself to do so.

“To me, you are a friend who I know I can enjoy my time with, whether in silence or work. I know I can go to you when I need company at parties or even just for meals. But at the end of it all, you are still the senior who I idolize. And I think I confused the idea of love with admiration.” As soon as those words leave your mouth, you notice the way he looks down at his lap.

Now, the smiles are gone from both of your faces. This confrontation is everything but easy. No matter how much Jacob seems to like you, your initial impression of your sentiments played out differently. There is no way to force your feelings to play out differently, and you both knew that.

“I–I’m sorry,” you choke out. “I wanted to give this a shot by letting time do its wonders, but I think that it just proved that my feelings now won’t waver.”

Jacob nods before his eyes reach yours. “Not even a second date can change it?” You know it is his attempt to make a joke. But with a smile on your face, you shake your head. From your answer, he nods. “I guess I missed my chance.”

For a moment, silence settles between you two. The tunes of jazz continue to play out softly through the speakers scattered around the cafe. The two of you continue to look into each other’s eyes as you let the news settle.

That is until he decides to break it with a question. “Y/N, can I ask you something?” When you shoot him a nod, he asks, “Do you think you would have given us a shot when you were a first-year?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. You have definitely thought about it—maybe you and Jacob would have had a chance if you worked together in your first year. And maybe you would have gone on more dates and eventually found yourself genuinely falling in love with the senior. What could have transpired between you two may have been a love story sweet like no other. But all these are just ‘what ifs’—that type of story playing out is not certain.

“I don’t know,” you find yourself admitting with your eyes now trailing down to the cup of chai latte that sits on the table. “I would like to think that it could’ve happened, but we’ll never know for sure.”

He lets out a sigh. For a while, he does not say anything. But when he asks the question “We can still be friends though, right?”, you quickly nod your head. 

“Of course, Jacob. I value the friendship we’ve built.” You notice the smile that shows on his lips. “And it would be awkward if we break off ties since we work together.”

He laughs at what you say, shaking his head. “You’re right. And knowing Kevin, he’ll make us write together again.” He takes a moment to breathe. “I like writing with you, so I hope for more chances to have our bylines beside each other before I graduate.”

And you cannot help but feel heartache over his words. Jacob has only shown you nothing but tenderness. Even after shattering the possibility of you two ever being together, he still treats you with so much care. You know that it would be a privilege for anyone to be liked by Jacob—you are glad to say you got a taste of what it would be like to have a future with him.

“I do, too. I like working with you, and I’m glad that joining the publication helped me find my way to you.” As you say those words, you notice a bittersweet smile that paints his face.

Saying goodbye to a future that you fantasized about is difficult. You hate that all the scenarios you imagined of how it would be like to be loved by Jacob are ones you will never truly experience. Blame it on wrong timing or your confusion about what you think love may be—all you know is that a future with him is something you will not have.

It has been two weeks since you confronted Jacob. Despite how the events played out, you two surprisingly managed to interact without any awkwardness. It is not like you could say you went back to normal since your first interactions with him were when you still had a crush on him. But this new stage in your relationship is something you like for it feels natural like your other friendships.

Kevin held a meeting a few days ago to discuss the assignments for this semester. Now, you two are seated on one of the picnic tables as you try to work. Thankfully, the snow has melted away. While it is still cold, it is the type that you find yourself enjoying. You and Jacob were tasked to cover women’s sexual lifestyles in a patriarchal society. It is something you pitched, and you are happy to work on it with him.

“Okay! Welcome back, everyone! A new semester means a new set of articles to be assigned. Happy New Year, by the way.” Kevin shoots everyone in the room with a smile. “I love the story pitches! You guys keep improving, I’m impressed.”

It has been a week since you confronted Jacob. Despite how the events played out, you two surprisingly managed to interact without any awkwardness. It is not like you could say you went back to normal for your first interactions with him when you still had a crush on him. But this new stage in your relationship with him is something you like for it feels natural like your other friendships.

“Since it is, unfortunately, my last semester being your editor, I want to make the most of guiding you all. I’ll still be having you guys cover the topics I’ll be assigning, but I will now encourage you all to write opinion pieces. Not only that, I’ll be encouraging you to run for my position for the next year!” As he says those words, you cannot help but feel a heavy weight on your heart.

The semester has only started—how can you be pressured already? Before you can think more about your editor’s words, he snaps you out of your thoughts. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be giving you enough time to think it over. So for now, I’ll just assign your pitches.”

He clears his throat as he looks at his laptop. You do not pay attention to him listing out pitches assigned to other individuals who are part of your staff. That is only until he calls your name. “Y/N and Jacob will work on women’s sexual lifestyles amidst the patriarchal and conservative society. Along with that, you two will also cover drag queens found on campus.” When your eyes settle on Jacob, you do not miss his smile. You shoot him a grin before looking back at your editor whose eyes are still on his laptop screen.

“That should be it. Yay! Don’t forget to schedule your ICs with me since it is required. We’ll be talking about potential opinion article topics and your plans for the next school year.” And just like that, Kevin dismisses the meeting.

You let out a sigh as you scroll through the questions you and Jacob are working on. “Do you think these questions should be fine for Kevin to review?”

Jacob lets out a hum as he scrolls through the shared document on his laptop. “Yeah, I think we can rephrase this question though to focus more on the shame that comes with discussing or participating in premarital sex.” He looks at you. “What do you think about that?”

“Yeah, that should be good on my end,” you say as you watch his attempt to rephrase the question found on the document. As soon as he finishes, you shoot him a smile. “I think that’s good! We can have these reviewed by Kevin, and then we can meet with our interviewees at their preferred schedule.”

You quickly type out an email to Kevin and make sure you attach the document before sending it out. Once you get the notification stating it was successfully delivered, you smile at your laptop screen. The first hurdle is over with. You think you can take a moment to relax until you are hit with a question.

“Y/N, do you have an opinion piece in mind?” As soon as your co-writer asks you, you cannot help but let out a groan. Your eyes move from the screen to his face. You notice the way he tries to hold back his laugh from your reaction.

“I have no clue.” You prop your arm on the table and rest your chin on your hand, a pout forming on your lips. “Do you?” As soon as he nods, you cannot help but gasp. “What do you have?!”

He chuckles at your reaction. “It’s very rough, but I want to talk about my experience growing up in Korea. I thought now would be a perfect time to talk about being an immigrant.” You nod, signaling for him to continue. “I mean, it really is just my journey to finding that sense of belonging since I’m a Korean who grew up overseas. Thought it would be nice to look back and talk about the people I found a home in before I graduate.”

You smile at how he shares his ideas with you. The way he talks about this opinion piece shows how personal it is to him. You only knew a part of the immigrant experience (mainly from memoirs you have read or interviews you conducted). But you knew that it is different for everyone, so you were interested to hear what Jacob’s experience is like.

“It’s nice to know that you want to share that. I’m excited to read it when you start writing it,” you say with a smile.

“Well, it still needs to go under some approval from the rest of the editorial board, but Kevin sounds hopeful. He says he’s going to push for it since he’s technically an immigrant himself.” You nod over his words.

You were well aware that two boys came from Canada. While Jacob may have been born and raised in Toronto, Kevin moved to Vancouver at a young age. So when the pair came to Korea for high school, they found themselves lost in the sea of people who already knew each other. But the universe eventually brought them together. And with that, they sought comfort in each other due to their shared experiences.

You were glad to know that the two had each other. Although you will never understand the struggles that come with being an immigrant, you know that the two boys finding each other made every day easier.

While the Canadian boys rely on each other, your friend group had one another. That is the beauty that comes with friendships—it starts unexpectedly with a stranger only for them to become your person in the end.

“But going back, you don’t have anything you’re remotely interested in talking about?” Jacob asks you once more.

Sighing, you say, “I don’t know. You think I can talk about my obsession with Bluey?” The guy cannot help but laugh. “I’m serious! I have no clue what to say. Do you think Kevin would let me off without writing one?”

He hums for a moment. “I mean, he would let you not write but I think he would be bummed out.” You let out a groan as you cross your arms on the table and rest your chin on them. “He would never push you to do anything you don’t want to do.” You can only sigh as you look off into nowhere.

“I just know that I have nothing right now. Literally got no good ideas worthy of being published.” You stare at the leaves that slowly move with the wind. Spring is slowly coming; you notice it in the way that the trees and plants have started to gain color; flowers are slowly about to bud; you can feel the slight warmth of the sun despite the cold air.

When your eyes drift away from the trees, they end up landing on a boy who has only filled you with warmth. You cannot help but smile at the sight of him. A hoodie drowns his figure, making him look cuddlier than ever. As he slowly makes his way toward you, you notice that his nose is tinted red from the cold air. And as soon as he sees your grin, he cannot help but smile back.

You find yourself sitting up from your slouched position before he makes his way to the spot beside you. “Hi, Jacob hyung,” he greets the guy who sits across from you two. And just like that, you link your arm with his. You do not miss the way his eyes glance at you over the sudden action.

Your head finds its place on his shoulder as you let out a sigh. “Changmin, I’m in trouble.” His body moves slightly as he lets out a chuckle.

“What did you do now?”

You blow raspberries as you look at Jacob who watches you both. “Kevin is encouraging us to write opinion pieces and I have no clue what to write about.”

“Y/N wants to write about Bluey,” the 5th-year chimes in.

A gasp leaves your mouth, making you lift your head from Changmin’s shoulder. “How could you say that?! I wanted to tell him myself!” The boy beside you giggles.

“I was going to suggest writing about that too,” your best friend admits. “Or you can write about me.”

You shoot him a frown. “Oh, be so for real right now.”

“What? You can write about how you can’t live without me.” The innocent smile that is on his lips only makes you want to wipe it off his face. And you cannot help but smack his arm with your free hand. “Yah! Why are you hitting me? I’m just throwing out suggestions for you.” His reaction makes you burst into laughter, making you snuggle your face into the space between his neck and shoulder.

You two remain snuggled up—one complaining while the other laughing over nothing. These moments perfectly encapsulate the dynamic between you and Changmin; the bantering that comes from nowhere; the sudden laughter that leaves you two when nothing hilarious happens; and the way you two always seem to latch onto each other. And Jacob bears witness to it all.

As he observes the sight of you two in your own world, an ill feeling rises in his guts—almost as if it is bile. He has never seen you smile or laugh like that with anyone else but Changmin. It is not like you react the same way around Chanhee or Sunwoo (based on his limited interactions with them). With your ears that are tinted red and the smile on Changmin’s face that contrasts with his complaints, Jacob cannot help but bite the inside of his cheek.

Everything starts to make sense to him—the two of you had unexpectedly crossed the platonic boundary that was drawn out. And now, you two were swimming in uncharted territories of adoration.

A part of him wants to laugh. Back then, he was convinced that something was going on between you and Changmin. Even if Kevin was insistent in convincing him that you two are just friends, he never knew if he could fully believe his best friend’s words. Blame it on insecurities or disbelief—it was just his way of protecting himself from the inevitable.

“I should get going,” he says as he shuts his laptop close. You lift your head from Changmin’s shoulder with eyes wide. “Kevin needs me to meet with him.” The lie leaves his mouth easily, and you and your best friend fall for it.

“Oh, okay! Maybe you can also tell Kevin we’ve emailed him the questions and the possible outline of the article already?” He nods at your words. And when you shoot him such an innocent smile, he cannot help but feel his resolve falter for a second.

When he stands up from his seat and carries his laptop and bag, you and your best friend bid him farewell. He turns away from the sight of you two and walks away with a heart heavier than ever.

As much as he hates to admit it, he still finds himself entertaining a possible future with you. Who can blame him? In his fantasies, he can feel your arms wrap around his waist as he cooks you a meal. You two would sway while he hums melodies. And you would litter kisses all over as he whispers sweet nothings.

But all of this is make-believe—he knows he does not stand a chance against your best friend who has permanently carved his place in your heart. It pains him to know that Changmin is a good guy; there will be no good reason to hate him. But with time, maybe he can come to terms that you will share your future with your best friend. For now, he will let himself wallow in bitter jealousy.

It is 3:34 PM. It has been two weeks since you complained to Jacob and Changmin about having no topic for an opinion piece. Over the weeks, you and Jacob were able to conduct interviews and gather the necessary information. After talking to the women who shared their accounts on sex amidst conservative Korea, you two wanted the piece to turn out well—capturing their experiences and sending out a message that will have people reconsider what they believe to be right or wrong.

Now, you are seated across from Chanhee by your friend group’s informal hideout. While he edits his photos, you transcribe away.

Although you two hang out with each other while working on newspaper matters, you have no idea what has been going on in your best friend’s life. To be fair, his schedule has always been the busiest out of everyone in the friend group. Being a photographer means he has to be present for almost every event or coverage.

Chanhee is your lowest-maintenance friend. In contrast to what you have with Changmin, you two could go on for weeks without having to talk to each other. Although you would occasionally pass by each other due to publication work, there are not a lot of instances to sit down and talk.

And you did not mind the distance—you were comfortable with the low-maintenance friendship for you two had your own priorities. What helps is that you both came from the publication, so you and Chanhee are aware of how difficult it can be to spare time in the day.

Being behind on what goes on in each other’s lives is not a sin. While some friendships like to see each other as much as possible (like you and Changmin) or be updated on everything (like you and Sunwoo), some could survive without constant updates or interactions. And that is the beauty of friendships—they operate so differently yet so similarly. Your relationships with the three boys may be distinct, but the love you all share is still the same.

But of course, your low-maintenance friendship does not mean that you do not want to update him about everything. If anything, the distance does make your heartfelt interactions more sentimental. So when you found yourself stopping the recording, you knew that you wanted to tell him about your revelation over the winter break.

You remove your headphones and hang them around your neck. “Chanhee.” The boy lets out a hum of curiosity before looking up from his laptop.

“Yeah?”

You take a moment to ponder over how to articulate your thoughts. And when you try to let the words come out, you feel them get stuck in your throat. “God, never mind.”

“What’s wrong?”

You shake your head before saying, “We’re both preoccupied with work, so I think it can wait.” You are met with Chanhee’s frown before he quickly types away and shuts his laptop.

“We can take a break. I want to hear what’s on your mind,” he says with a small smile. As he sees your pout, he sighs. “I’m serious. We haven’t sat down and talked in a while, so I kind of miss knowing what goes on in your life with Mr. Bae.”

The nervous chuckle you let out has your best friend taken back. “Yeah, about that…” You trail off as you scratch the back of your neck. “I am not going on a second date.”

“You aren’t?” When you shake your head, a pout forms on his lips. “What’s wrong? Not that great of a guy?”

A sigh leaves your mouth. “No, he’s great! Actually, the date we had was so sweet; we baked a cake together.”

“No way!” Chanhee gasps. “Where did this even happen?”

“Jacob always goes to this bakery run by this cute couple, and he’s close enough with them to let us use their kitchen.” You smile to yourself as your eyes trail down to your keyboard. “It was a cute first date to go on. But,” your eyes go back to Chanhee. “I don’t like him in that way.”

“Oh, Y/N,” he reaches out for your hand and holds onto it. “That’s okay. Sometimes, people are just meant to stay as crushes. You don’t have to pursue them if you don’t want to—let alone if you aren’t ready for a relationship.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Chanhee, there’s a bigger reason why I wanted to talk to you about this.” The way his eyebrows furrow in worry has you shooting him a bittersweet smile.

When you try to speak, you can feel the words hitching at your throat. Your best friend notices your hesitancy, making him caress your hand in a way that would allow him to stroke it in circular motions. And when you watch the way he shows you a comforting smile, you let your eyes close as you take a deep breath.

“I think I like Changmin.”

Despite your news, your best friend does not stop holding your hand. Your eyes open to see the sight of him still showing the same smile. And when he slowly nods, you feel your bottom lip quiver. Such a simple action should not speak a thousand words, but it is a hidden action reserved for you two—one that says, “I know, I have always known.”

And just like that, the waterworks turn on. The tears roll down your cheeks as Chanhee holds onto your hand. You never wanted to cry, but something about this moment had you vulnerable about something you have not stopped thinking about.

“How long have you known?” The question comes out like a whisper. You are afraid to hear his answer because it might change what you have always thought about your friendship with Changmin.

Chanhee lets his eyes trail down to your linked hands. “I think since the first time I saw you two interact,” he starts off. “When you introduced me to Sunwoo and Changmin for the first time, I thought that there was something special about you and my roommate.” His eyes then look back at yours, and his free hand reaches out to wipe away your tears with his thumbs. “It’s not that I have always known that you liked him, but I think what you have with him is like no other relationship.”

You cannot help but pout at his answer. “Is what I have with him not friendship?”

“No, it is,” he smiles at you as he wipes away one more tear. “It’s friendship, a beautiful one to begin with. But I also think it has always been more than that—something that you and Changmin were too blind to see.” His hand leaves your face and goes back to holding your hand. “And it’s not like it’s wrong, for you and him are the only ones who can define what you two have. I think you might finally be realizing that what you wanted was right in front of you all along.”

It is supposed to sound corny—Changmin being the person you wanted all along. But you hate to admit that Chanhee is right. Maybe that is why you have gone on with your life not particularly bothered by your lackluster love life (although it made you wonder if you would ever be desirable enough for anyone, really). The love you feel from your friends is enough to remind you of your worth. But the one Changmin made you feel is enough to push mountains and change seasons.

The birds start to chipper; the sun glows on you and Chanhee; the air smells of flowers. Despite the tears you shed just minutes ago, the world still moves as if it sings out the words, “Spring has come!” It is as if the universe echoed the message you found yourself reaching at the end of your conversation with Chanhee—there is no reason to be afraid of falling in love with your best friend for he is everything you hope for. 

It is 2:27 PM when you meet with Kevin in the publication room. You and Jacob officially wrapped up your article a few days ago. With minimal comments from your editor, you both were happy with the output.

In the publication room, there is a small room where the different clusters usually hold meetings. You swing its door open to see Kevin seated with his laptop out. He looks up at you and shoots you a smile. “Y/N! Nice to see you on time for our consultation.”

You take a seat across from your editor. “Hi, Kevin,” you greet him with a small smile.

“I’m sure you already know what this is for. But just for formality's sake, thank you for having this individual consultation with me.” He claps his hands in joy. “Today, I’ll be talking with you regarding next year’s editor position and your opinion article.”

You scratch the back of your neck before saying, “I am not going to lie, I am not considering running for Features editor.”

Kevin shows you a smile, almost as if he expected your response. “Okay, let’s talk about it. Why did you decide that?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I think there’s just so much more for me to learn.” When he signals you to continue, you let out a small sigh. “I mean, I don’t think I’m suited for the position with my current skill set. There’s still so much I can learn!”

Your editor sighs as he moves his laptop aside. “I know we had this conversation back when you were still a 1st-year. Do you remember it?”

Of course, you remember that conversation vividly. When Kevin first approached you regarding your interest in taking over his spot after he graduates, you remember how insistent you were in denying it.

“Kevin, I don’t think you should be asking me about this,” you say with a small smile. “I mean, I have only gotten into the groove of writing for the uni’s paper just this year. I don’t think I am the best option to consider.”

Your editor pouts and says, “That’s not true. You are a perfectly good candidate to take over when I graduate. You’re a skilled writer with a good eye for topics to unravel.”

You shake your head. “I still think there is room for improvement when it comes to writing. And right now, I don’t have the capabilities to handle the duties and responsibilities that come with being an editor.”

It is one thing to be a good student journalist—being an editor is a different case. There comes a responsibility to ensure that everything goes in order. Not only that, you become someone the staff and the rest of the editorial board can trust. The idea of it all is anxiety-inducing, and now may not be the best time to consider it given that you are still adjusting.

“I really appreciate you for considering me, but I think that I still need to learn and grow as a writer before considering that responsibility.” As you say those words, your editor can only nod.

“Okay, I understand where this is coming from,” Kevin sighs. “I once was in your position when my old editor, Sangyeon, asked me that during my first year in the publication. I denied it, just like you, and kept explaining that my journey as a writer cannot end yet. But Sangyeon kept saying that running for the position would bring challenges that I need to face as a writer.”

For a moment, you think over his words. But before you can say anything, he continues, “You never stop writing and growing—think of it as a way to take up more challenges that will force you to think critically, to think of solutions, to really test you. And if it helps, you won’t be handling it alone because you have the rest of the board to rely on!”

Kevin raised really good points. Taking up an editor position would allow you to gauge if your future does lie in journalism after all; it would allow you to learn before entering the workforce. But now, you do not think you are capable of handling it.

“I can at least think about it,” you start off. “I have one full school year to think about it. But for now, I am not planning to run.”

Your editor smiles and says, “That’s better than an immediate no.”

You let out a sigh. “Yes, I remember. But I still think that I need to work under someone’s guidance. I don’t think I am suited for the editor position.”

For a moment, he does not say anything as he thinks over your words. Before you can add any more excuses, he interjects, “Y/N, I will tell you this—I think you have learned as much as you can as a writer. During my years being your editor, I think that the growth you’re looking for comes with applying for a position on the editorial board.”

You cannot help but pout at his reality check, but you know he was right. “I know you’re considering a job in journalism, so I think this would be a good opportunity to at least prepare you for it outside of your internships.” Kevin shows you a small smile. “You still have a few months to consider since applications start around the latter half of the semester.”

When you simply nod, he lets out a small sigh. “Y/N, I just want you to know that you are very capable of being an editor—that you are destined for greatness” You cannot help but smile at his praise. “I understand that it is scary because of the responsibilities, but it is worth the experience.”

The best thing about Kevin is that he has always looked out for you. Even in your first year in the publication, he always made it a point to look out for every member of his staff. Whether it would be writing issues or mental health concerns, he would find a way to help. Now that he attempts to possibly hand you the position (if no one else runs for it), reality is starting to hit that you would not be under his care.

“Kevin, I’m going to miss you,” you say with a pout.

He shakes his head as he slightly rolls his eyes. “Okay, we are not having that sappy talk. Reserve it for the last meeting.” You cannot help but chuckle. “But going back, let’s talk about your opinion article.”

Your pout contrasts his smile. “I have no clue what to write about.” A sigh leaves your lips. “Like, I’ve talked to Jacob and I’m still hit with absolutely nothing.”

Kevin chuckles at the way you complain before saying, “I get it. Sometimes, thinking about a topic you’re passionate about is hard considering the character limit implemented.” You nod at his words. “Okay, so maybe we can start with your life, you know. Why don’t you guide me through the years?”

With that, you let out a sigh as you recall your years growing up. “Well, school was school. I was your average student. I can’t recall too much about the super early years, but I do remember grade school being the period I was exploring a lot of hobbies.” You hum for a moment. “Oh! I also met Sunwoo that time because we were seatmates.”

Your editor smiles. “Ah, Sunwoo! I’m surprised, you know? Not a lot of people can say they’re still best friends with their childhood friends.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “We were always seatmates for some reason, so the proximity forced us to interact. I can remember how passionate he was about soccer, which I guess started my journey exploring different activities. I mean, something about his passion made me want to experience the same thing.”

For a child like you, seeing someone with so much enjoyment from participating in an activity feels revolutionary. The determination your best friend had to succeed in every soccer practice or tournament made you imagine the feeling that comes from hard work being paid off. It is something you want to experience.

“So, I ended up going through different hobbies like drawing, playing instruments, and even doing sports. But when I was forced to read a book, I somehow picked up writing as my hobby.” You shake your head at the memory as you look down at your lap. “Funnily enough, I remember hating reading and writing in my early years only until I started reading this one fantasy series. I was just so fascinated with these worlds, and I thought I could do it myself.”

The only reason why you were forced to read was because your English teacher warned your parents about your grades in the said subject. With that, you were handed a book to read. Although the first few pages seemed like a chore to get through, you eventually found yourself being invested in the said book. You ended up asking your parents to buy you the whole series before you knew it.

“Although I tried to do creative writing bullshit, it never worked out for me. I don’t know, I just don’t think I was capable of building such grand narratives. But reading books did start my love for academic writing, oddly enough,” you say as your eyes trail back up to Kevin who sits and listens to your story. “I remember it reached a point where I would join competitions for essays and whatnot.”

You let out a hum as you took a brief look up to the ceiling. “I think it was at a competition where I first found out about Feature writing since it was a big event with other writers of different age groups. I can remember when I first told Sunwoo about my interest in it, and he was so supportive.” Kevin nods along with a smile, showing that he is keeping up with your story.

“It felt so nice to be supported by my best friend in a craft that I had no experience in, you know? So when high school came, I applied for my school’s newspaper team and Sunwoo decided to try dancing for something different. And these crafts brought us to Changmin.”

A smile starts to creep on your face as you remember your entire high school life with the two. And Kevin cannot help but feel his heart warm at the sight of you reminiscing the years spent with the two boys.

“Did you know I used to be intimidated by Changmin?” As soon as you ask that question, your editor cannot help but laugh.

“Are you serious?” The nod you give has him laughing. “But, he’s so baby! How are you scared of him?”

You roll your eyes and say, “I swear, he was intimidating. I think the way he presented himself in high school made me scared of him. And I remember when Sunwoo introduced me to him for the first time. Our interactions felt so awkward mainly because we never talked, and I thought I would only have to see him whenever Sunwoo dragged him along. So when I got accepted into the publication, I was not expecting to see Changmin as a photographer.”

You cross your arms as you lean back in your chair. “Then we somehow got paired together which eventually started our friendship,” you say with a grin. “And with the many instances working together, Changmin and I grew so much closer.” Kevin nods along.

Before you could share more, another thought appeared in your mind. “Oh, god. Back then, I used to have a crush on Sunwoo for a while.” You notice the shock that appears on your editor’s face. “I know, it was weird, but I would talk to Changmin about it. Now, they won’t get off my ass.” You roll your eyes while shaking your head.

“But I can vividly remember that while these guys seemed to have love lives, I didn’t. And you know, it used to bother me because I was the type to always jump from different crushes but never actually have something go past the infatuation stage. But they have always been the people to listen to my lovesick rambles.” You bite the inside of your cheek. “I appreciate them so much because they never made me feel lonely, you know? Even if I never went on dates or experienced the high school love that the two got, they always made sure to keep me company.”

Kevin hums as he nods. “No, I get it. Like, their love is enough, you know?”

“Yeah!” You smile at how he understands what you are trying to say. “Like, they do so much for me despite how much we tend to rile each other up. And I remember how the two took me on this date a few days after Sunwoo’s first date.” You sigh at the memory with a small smile.

“And when Changmin left for college, I remember how devastated we were,” you say as your smile slowly starts to drop. “Weirdly enough, his absence left a huge hole in my heart. It wasn’t easy to contact him because of different schedules and obligations. So when Sunwoo and I finally graduated, we were so happy to see him again.”

When your eyes land back on Kevin, you notice that he remains attentive to your story. “I think that experience taught us that we did rely on each other, but we needed to find a way to coexist without it being too codependent.”

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying,” he interrupts. “The distance revealed that your friendship was turning into codependency which started to reach toxic levels.” You nod. “Yeah, Jacob and I went through the same thing—our friendship became too interdependent which prevented us from growing.”

You let out a hum. “Yeah, exactly that. So when we entered university, we made this collective agreement to let our relationship flourish into a healthier one. It was a long process until Chanhee came into the picture.” As you mention his name, Kevin cannot help but smile.

“After entering the publication and getting to work with Chanhee for my first few coverages, I thought it would be nice to introduce him to Changmin and Sunwoo. And I think it was only then we realized that the group was incomplete until he came in,” you say as you rest your arms on the table. “And I just think our group has evolved into one that I would never trade for the world. I think I was able to grow with them while witnessing their growth as well.”

When you see Kevin nod, you cannot help but sigh. “Sorry, I went on a tangent. But yeah, other than applying for this publication, working with you and Jacob, I guess that’s all that really went on with my life.”

He shakes his head and says, “It’s fine, I liked hearing the story of you four getting together.” You show him a small smile. “I think you have your opinion piece, you know? I think your whole story is a reflection of how strong platonic love is.” As soon as your head tilts to the side, he takes it as a sign to continue. “Your story shows how much you and your group were able to grow through the love and care you fostered. And in your case, their love is enough to a point you were able to remain unbothered by your lackluster love life.”

And it is true—your friends are the reason why you never find yourself lonely in a world that seems to glamorize romantic love. You cannot deny that you still long to experience it, but your friends have shown you love that is more than enough.

“Yeah, I think I can write about that. I realize how much I love to talk about my friends, so I think writing about them would be nice,” you say as you find yourself slowly nodding. “I think their love has put me in a comfortable spot where I don’t feel the need to constantly seek out the romantic love people always talk about. And even if it would still be nice to experience it, I don’t think I’m in a rush to find it. I experience enough love in my friendships.”

Your editor nods with a smile on his face. “It’s a nice topic, and I really think it would resonate with a lot of people. I think we put so much importance on experiencing romantic love, but I think all forms of love should coexist—one should never have more importance over the other.”

And you nod along with his words. That is what you appreciate about Kevin—he always knew the right words to say and made sure to relate to your sentiments. In your time working under his care, you never once felt misunderstood by him because he listened.

“Is it weird to say that I have learned about love through them?” When the question leaves your mouth, he shakes his head. “I guess because I have never gone on dates or experienced that high school romance then, everything I know about love is because of what they showed me.”

He cannot help but smile. “I think it’s nice that they taught you so much about love by showering you with it. And in your story, they don’t give you too much love that makes it suffocating.”

Kevin is right. Through your friendships, there have never been any notable instances where the love you receive from Changmin, Sunwoo, and Chanhee reached a point of toxic levels. Despite the codependency issue that only revealed itself when your best friend moved away for university, the love that they have shown you throughout the years is nothing but pure—one that comes in the form of supporting each person’s independence while fostering an environment of vulnerability.

“You really do love your friends,” your editor quietly points out.

You find yourself nodding with a smile on your face. “I appreciate those three because they’re my reasons to keep on going.”

No matter how wounded your knees may get, how tired your eyes may be, or how bruised your heart may get, you always find yourself continuing to go on thanks to them. The love and support they give you is a reason enough for you to continue on such a difficult journey that everyone is bound off to. What makes it all comforting is that you know you are never alone in this expedition called life—you were traveling with your friends after all.

It is 6:23 PM. You find yourself seated on the floor of the dance studio as you attempt to write your papers all while your best friend practices a routine he choreographed for the year-end concert. These were moments you found yourself enjoying—you two would work on your own obligations while still accompanying each other. Not only did it hold you accountable to get work done but it made you feel less lonely.

Your brain was preoccupied with what Kevin told you a few hours ago. There is a lot to consider—both when it comes to your opinion piece and the Features editor position. Are you capable of writing such a personal piece that everyone could still enjoy reading? Could you even handle the responsibilities that come with being an editor? Did you have it within yourself to balance your priorities?

With all these thoughts, you cannot help but let out a frustrated sigh. Your opened document is filled with nonsensical phrases and unfinished thoughts. Clearly, you were not in the headspace to work.

Your eyes leave your laptop screen and land on Changmin who goes through his routine slowly, trying to perfect every move. Every time you watch him dance, your heart aches—a type of ache that can only be described as how proud you are of your best friend. The passion he emits is almost like the one you were first introduced to by Sunwoo when it came to soccer.

As if he feels your eyes on him, his eyes drift away from his reflection in the mirror towards you. He notices the frown that rests on your eyebrows. “What’s wrong?” A laugh follows his question.

“I cannot get any work done,” you say with a sigh. “I feel like I’m so out of it and it’s still so early in the day.”

Your best friend rolls his eyes as he walks to you. He crouches in front of you and says, “It’s 6 PM; it is not that early. Plus, didn’t you come from a meeting with Kevin?”

You bite the inside of your cheek as you look at him. Painfully aware of your newfound (or pushed down for years) feelings, you cannot help but feel conscious around him at times. Being under his stare made your insides mush together.

“Yeah,” you whisper out. You clear your throat as your eyes look back down at the screen. “It was a weird meeting if I’m going to be honest.”

In your peripheral vision, you can see him tilt his face to the side. You expect him to ask you about it. But when his hands grab onto your laptop, you look up with a frown. “Hey!” He sets it aside before standing up.

With his hand out for you to reach, he says, “Come on, I think you need to take a break.” Your frown remains on your face as you grab onto his hand, tugging on it so that you can stand up. He keeps your hand in his as he drags you to where he was practicing.

The two of you stand in front of a mirror. Once he lets go of your hand, he smiles at you by staring at your reflection. “You know, all the years we’ve been friends and I’ve never seen you dance.” The moment he says this has you almost bolting away. And before you could do so, he grabbed onto your arm.

“Changmin! I am not going to dance in front of you—let alone with you,” you exclaim as the boy keeps you in place. In contrast to your frown, your best friend grins as he moves to stand behind you, his hands now holding onto your forearms.

He peeks from your shoulder and says, “It’ll be fun! And I’ll be guiding you through it.” You only glare at him through the mirror. “C’mon! I won’t judge you at all.”

“Oh, be so for real! I’ve danced in front of Sunwoo before and he couldn’t keep a straight face. What makes you think you won’t laugh?”

He gasps. “See, now you need to let me see you dance!” The whine you let out does not do anything to stop his insistence. “When did you even dance in front of him?”

“I’m pretty sure he walked in on me trying to do a Wonder Girls choreo.” You roll your eyes at the memory. “I am never doing that again.”

“What choreo?” He asks as he sets his chin on your shoulder. “Is it “Tell Me”?” As soon as you nod, he gasps. “That’s easy! I’m sure I can teach you right now.”

“I am not doing that! I’m too shy.”

He chuckles as he raises his chin from your shoulder. “It’s just me—there’s no need to be shy around me.” His words make your knees weak. Something about this moment has you shrinking; his hands on your forearms; the attention on you; the distance between you two.

But something about this shared moment also has your heartstrings tugging; his grin that can light up any room; his playful tone that shows how excited he is; and his determination to get your mind off what is bothering you. You almost cannot help but show a small smile. And with a sigh, you end up nodding at his request.

The two of you spend your time going through the choreography of that song, specifically the pre-chorus and chorus, with Changmin having to show and help you in every move. Although you notice the smile on his lips every time you make an awkward move, he never once burst into laughter—just occasional chuckles. And surprisingly, you enjoyed learning it under his care.

Now, you two sat on the floor. As your best friend takes a break from dancing, your eyes stare into the opened document for one of your classes. Once you attempt to write, you can feel yourself being hit with anxieties that kept you from working in the first place.

You hate being under the spotlight. Most of the time, you find yourself uncomfortable with receiving too much attention. That is why when you found Features writing, it felt perfect for you. The hobby-turned-possible-career keeps you comfortable because you can write about people’s narratives—ones worth sharing with the world. So when you now have to consider representing a staff and being part of the faces of the editorial board, you can feel all eyes on you.

At this point, you are frustrated with your inability to get work done. The sigh you let out as you type away some gibberish has your best friend looking at you with concerned eyes. But before he could say anything, you looked away from your laptop to stare at him. When you see his worried expression, you cannot help but show him a bittersweet smile.

“I don’t know what to do,” you start. Silence settles between you two for a moment, and you realize that he is giving you time to continue. “I–fuck,” you trip over your words. A chuckle leaves your mouth as you turn your head back to face your laptop. You take a moment to breathe, collecting your thoughts.

“Kevin wants me to consider running for the Features editor position.” When you do not hear your best friend interject, you decide to continue. “He actually asked me last year to consider in the case he decides to not renew his position as editor. But now that he’s going to graduate, he brought it up again. He says it would be a good opportunity for me to get a feel of the higher stakes in this field, and that it would help me consider if I will pursue journalism as a career.”

You let out a sigh before taking a look at the boy who sits beside you. “I first told him no. I think I still need to learn more about being a writer, but he says that the growth I seek comes from applying for higher positions.” You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Changmin, I don’t think I’m ready for such responsibilities. You know how much I hate being put under the spotlight, so being an editor would mean I represent my staff and become a face that people link with the publication.” After saying those words, you rip your gaze away from your best friend and stare up at the ceiling. “And what happens if I’m not a good editor to begin with? Being a writer is entirely different from being an editor.”

You feel his hand reach out to yours, holding it and drawing circles at the back of your hand with his thumb. The action makes you close your eyes. Although you do not crave physical touch, something about Changmin doing it to you has you wanting more—maybe it is because you know it as his love language.

“And I think a part of me is scared to become an editor and learning that I hate it after all.” Your eyes open before you turn your head back to him whose eyes are still filled with concern. “Don’t you ever get scared that what you enjoy doing now can be something you grow resentful of?”

When you have gone on with your life with one hobby you have invested so much time in, it seems impossible to ever imagine a future without it. That is what you feel when it comes to writing—a craft that you feel yourself enjoying while still being challenged. But you can almost feel the hands of fear consume you when you imagine the ‘what-ifs’ that come with taking up a position that is different from your usual.

And from how unfamiliar it is, anxiety fills you. Who can say you would be a good editor? What would happen if you fail to keep up with your duties? Is there a reality where you will be burnt out from Features writing?

But when you see your best friend flash you a comforting smile, it feels easier to let such questions go. “Of course, I feel scared,” he starts off. He rips his gaze away from you and stares off into nowhere. “I remember when I first applied for university, choosing a course was the hardest decision for me. I was forced to think of how I wanted my future to turn out because I thought my course dictated the career I ended up in.”

It is true. You remember the first time Changmin was applying to different universities. Without a clear vision of what he wanted to do in the future, he struggled to decide on a list of courses. During that period, you and Sunwoo could only do so much to help him out. But at the end of it all, he appreciates you two for listening to him when he needed it.

“You already know that I had different first-choice courses for the universities I applied for. My list of courses per college was different as well.” He brings your linked hands to his lap and looks down at it. “And I can remember how confused my parents were by that, but I just cared about what I found myself enjoying.” He lets out a sigh before laughing, “I don’t know if it was the smartest decision on my end.”

You cannot help but chuckle along with him. “Even I questioned your decisions,” you admit. Your best friend shakes his head before looking at you. “I think from my perspective, it looked like you didn’t know what to do.”

“Yeah, and I really didn’t,” he tells you. “I mean, the difference between you and me is that while you found yourself set on journalism and just general communication tracks, I was still figuring out what I wanted to do in the future.”

You bite the inside of your cheek as he reveals that to you. It is not like he shared with you new information for you both were aware of it. And it is not your fault that you felt more confident in what the future had in store for you as a 1st-year in high school versus your best friend who is a 3rd-year. The reality is that Changmin was envious of you—you felt so sure of yourself in your hobby. In contrast to you, he could never consider dance as a possible career to pursue.

When he sees the slight shift in your expression, he shows you a small smile. “It’s not your fault. It’s just me being unsure of what I wanted to do.” He takes a moment to recollect his thoughts. “But really, I chose my courses based on how much I enjoyed or found myself interested in them. And I found myself here.” He lets his eyes drift back down to his hand that holds yours.

“Oddly enough, I don’t see myself in any other course. No matter how much I questioned what I was doing in Early Childhood Education, I also found myself entertaining the idea of how nice it would be to explore the careers that come out of it.” He smiles to himself and says, “And I only figured out by my second year that I don’t have to pursue careers like counselor or teacher. I could still do jobs like HR or anything related to science if I wanted to.”

His eyes then drift back towards you. “It will always be a struggle, you know? You’ll never be sure if what you first thought entering university is something you’ll end up pursuing in the end. For me, I came here with an unclear vision of what I wanted to do as a career. And although I still wish I could do photography or dance, I’m actually really happy with being a preschool teacher in the end.”

You cannot help but smile at him. “I’m happy for you. You know that, right?” When the question leaves your mouth, he nods.

“Of course, I do. You never fail to remind me that,” he says. “I may not know where you entirely come from, but I understand the fear. I mean, even I feel like that with dance. But I think all that matters is that I enjoy it now.”

For a moment, silence settles on you two. Your brain is rattled with thoughts of whether or not you are capable of being an editor. But before you can say anything, your best friend interjects. “I think it’s worth giving it a shot, you know? That editor position that Kevin brought up to you.”

You cannot help but show a small frown. “I get that you’re scared to take up the responsibility of being one, but I think the experience really is something else. After all, you’re still in university—it’s the perfect time to take these positions up and explore.” You feel the frown leave your face as he shares that advice. “And you won’t be carrying the burden alone. You have the other editors to rely on.”

He shoots you a smile and says, “You are a talented writer, to begin with—I’m sure that you’ll do great as an editor. After all, I always root for you and your success.” And his words have your heart melting.

Your eyes drift down to your linked hands. Somehow, Changmin knew the ways to comfort you. Although he may not have the answer you seek at all times, he still did his best to listen and connect with you. And every day, you are thankful for him—he eases your anxieties while still building you up.

“Thank you,” you whisper out before looking back up to him. “I think I owe everything to you.”

Your best friend shakes his head and says, “You don’t owe me anything. What are you even saying?” He chuckles as he brings your linked hands closer to him, making you fall on his side. With that, your head rests on his shoulder. “We’re friends—I’d do anything for you willingly.”

The sentence may sound sad, being referred to as a friend by your crush. But the reality is that it fills you with warmth. Because no matter what feelings you harbor for him, the love he shows you is like no other. You can only hope it stays this way.

The weeks have passed since you last had your conversation with Kevin. Somehow, your topic got approved by the rest of the editorial board—it seemed like what you are writing about is relevant after all. Thankfully, you have until the start of editorial board application season to submit the finished opinion piece. You decided against letting your friend group know about your involvement in writing an opinion article just so you could surprise them.

Now, you and Jacob were officially in the last stages of wrapping up your last article with him. It is sad to know that after this, there would be no more pieces to be written with the 5th-year. It is funny to remember how much you wanted to work with him during your first year, so to finally finish up your last article with him is bittersweet.

“I can’t believe this is our last article where our bylines will be beside each other,” you say as you let your eyes drift from your laptop to the boy who sits across from you.

Jacob lets out a half-hearted chuckle. “I know, I can’t believe time has been moving so fast.”

It did feel weird that time suddenly trickles down faster when you find yourself enjoying the moments life presents you. You wish you could control it all—freeze the periods you wish to keep while fast-forwarding ones you hate to go through. But what makes these moments precious is that they do not last forever.

“Have you figured out your opinion piece article?”

You show him a small smile once you add the final touches to the article you two worked on. “Yeah, I’m going to write about my friends.” Jacob cannot help but let out an “awe” at your reveal.

You chuckle before saying, “I have gone through my life not being able to experience the joys of romance in my high school, and it bothered me at first. Back then, I used to think I was undesirable or that I was made only to work.” Then you cannot help but smile to yourself as your eyes drift back down to the laptop screen. “But I think my friends have shown me love greater than what I could ever imagine. I’m okay if I never get to go on multiple dates or bring butterflies to someone’s stomach. Right now, I’m comfortable just where I am.”

As you say those words, your brain cannot help but drift to the thought of Changmin, your best friend whom you love. You would think that such a word is reserved for later stages in a relationship, but the reality is that you always will love him—even if he may remain your best friend.

So you look back up to Jacob and say, “And I think that if life decides to bring that change to me, I’ll gladly accept it.”

The boy who sits across you nods at your words, a small smile on his lips. “Can I ask you something personal?”

You cannot help but frown for a moment. “Sure,” you say as you tilt your head to the side.

“It’s Changmin, right?” Your frown gets deeper, more confused than ever. “He’s the one you love?” As soon as he says those words, your eyes widen.

“How did you figure that out?”

He shakes his head and says, “I think it’s obvious to everyone.” You cannot help but pout at him. “I mean, I can see that Sunwoo and Chanhee have taught you love in their own ways. But I think that Changmin has shown you one that can never be forgotten.”

And your heart cannot help but ache at his words because he is right. In your years growing up, every act that Changmin has done for you is out of genuine care for your wellbeing. No matter all the times he may tease you, he always looks out for you even if you do not ask. At the same time, he supports you in your endeavors even if you may not have experience. And most importantly, he hears you out the most.

Your relationship with him is built out of genuine care for each other. What started as just having a mutual friend turned into workmates and eventually led you two to become friends. And in your years of being friends with him, all he has done is show you love. You may never be able to trace when you two started to cross the boundaries of friendship, but all that matters is that you have each other. 

So you whisper out the words, “Yeah, it’s him.” You bite the inside of your cheek. “Is it wrong to be in love with him?” You do not miss the way Jacob frowns. “I mean, I was scared that I was mistaking platonic love for him as a romantic one, you know? You mentioned before how hard it can be to distinguish that.”

His frown leaves his face. As he shakes his head, he shows you a smile. “You know, you two have so much love and care for each other. And funnily enough, there are some romantic relationships I know that do not compare to what I’ve seen between you two.” As he says those words, you feel your heartstrings tug. “I guess the only thing I can ask is this: Is what you feel for Changmin different from what you feel towards Sunwoo and Chanhee?”

It is the same question Sunwoo asked you when you brought it up to him. After your conversations with Chanhee and Kevin (and your ongoing one with Jacob), you expect your answer to change. But the reality is that your answer remains the same. So when you nod, Jacob nods along.

“Then what others say doesn’t matter. At the end of it all, what you two have is special.”

You cannot help but show him a bittersweet smile. It feels almost wrong to share this with him after breaking things off with him. But you like to think that over the weeks, you and Jacob have managed to move past that.

Before you know it, Jacob lets out a sigh. “I think that’s it for this article. We’ve addressed all the comments from the editor-in-chief.” And just like that, you cannot help but feel heartache. 

The finale has officially come. You did not want it to end, and the boy who sits across you can see it from your expression. “You know, Y/N, we’re still friends. Just because we aren’t working together means that we have to stop spending time together.” You cannot help but pout. “Plus, you might end up interning at the place I work at—that’s if you still decide to pursue journalism.”

You cannot help but chuckle. “Yeah, that’s true.”

For a moment, silence settles between you two. As you two sit, you cannot help but let your mind drift back to when you first joined the publication. At first glance, you found yourself crushing on Jacob. And after reading his articles, you remember how much you wished to work with him. Oh, how you wish you could tell your past self that most of their dreams came true.

With that, you let out a sigh. “I know I’ve mentioned this before, but I’ve always wanted to work with you. It wasn’t entirely because I had a crush on you but I just loved the articles you put out.”

He shows you that grin—the same one you first found yourself melting at. Now, it is just a sight that you allow yourself to smile at. “I’m really glad I got to work with you. Even if it happened in my last year, I think you’ll be one of my memorable writing partners.” You cannot help but grin back at him. “Even for just some articles, I’m glad we had our bylines beside each other.”

The funny thing is that you are glad that your crush on him sort of brought you closer to him. If it were not for Sunwoo telling your editor about your crush on the 5th-year, you may not have ever received the opportunity to work with him. You learned more about the boy you admired from afar during your time working with him. And somehow, it resulted in him harboring similar feelings towards you. Although you two only got one date from it all, you are glad to still have each other.

A month has passed, and the broadsheets have started circulating in the university. To your surprise, the article you and Jacob worked on women’s sexuality ended up on the cover. You were happy to see that such a narrative would reach many people.

Since you two wrapped up your article on drag queens, there was not enough time to see each other. It was to be expected, of course—the different obligations and schedules prevented you two from hanging out. Nevertheless, you and Jacob would occasionally text each other whether it would be to complain about the progress of your opinion pieces or to share anything new happening on campus.

Talking about opinion pieces, you and Jacob submitted them on time. You two consulted each other non-stop, asking to read each other’s works and make any necessary edits or comments. The works that seemed like absolute garbage during the early stages turned into beautiful emotionally-charged ones. And you were glad that Jacob would trust you to read his piece in its unedited form.

To learn about his struggles to find his place both in Korea and Canada. Despite being born in Canada, he was always faced with racist remarks and microaggressions. So you would think that moving to Korea would give him the liberation of finally finding his place in the world. And yet, his growing up in a Westernized context made it all more difficult for him to connect with his classmates.

Having to be treated as an “outsider” no matter where he goes destroyed him. Like a wall being smashed by a sledgehammer; a glass being smacked off the table and shattering as it hits the ground; a rubber band being pulled until it snaps. For Jacob, having to go through such as a kid can only ruin him.

But in the middle of it all, he met Kevin. Whether it would be in the lunches they shared or talking about nothing, Kevin allowed him to take up space in a world that seemed to not have a spot for him. Whenever the boy found himself in the dark, he knew that all he needed to look for was the moon.

“I’m happy to see your byline on the cover page,” Chanhee says as he looks through the broadsheet. The two of you walk out of a building, slowly making your way to where you parked your car. “I think it might be one of my favorite articles from you and Jacob.”

You cannot help but shoot a smile at your best friend. “Thanks.”

As you two slowly pass by the athletics center, you cannot help but let your stare linger at the building. You knew that Sunwoo and Changmin were practicing for the year-end concert happening three weeks from now all while you were busying yourself with the editor application process.

It feels weird that the school year is coming to an end. Almost a month and a half left and Chanhee and Changmin will graduate while you and Sunwoo go on to the next year. At first, you did feel the anxiety start to bubble within you. What did the future have in store for you four? Would the different priorities rip you guys away?

But the reality is that you will never know, and there will never be a way to find out. And somehow, you cannot help but cherish whatever time you have left with them now. All that matters is that you still have each other now.

“Hey, I need to go to the dance studio.” You whip your head from the building to your best friend. “I said I could lend a hand in filming and taking pictures for documentary purposes,” he says with a small smile.

You shake your head and say, “It’s okay.” Your eyes look at the broadsheet Chanhee still holds. “I should say this now but you should check out the opinions section.”

With furrowed eyebrows, he flips through the pages until he reaches that portion. His eyes skim through the page until it lands on your byline. And just like that, you notice his expression shift into one of shock. “Oh my god, you ended up putting out an opinion piece?! I thought you decided against it,” he exclaims.

You show him a small smile despite his eyes still trained on the paper. “I decided against telling you and the others. I wanted to surprise you since it’s about you three.” As soon as you reveal that, you notice the way Chanhee pouts as he continues to read your article. “Oh my god, don’t read it in front of me!”

Chanhee giggles as he lets his eyes finally meet yours. “Did you know that this might be the sweetest thing anyone has done for me?”

“I know, it’s me after all,” you joke as you shrug your shoulders. And just like that, he cannot help but glare at you.

“This was supposed to be a sweet moment but you always seem to ruin it with your stupid comments.”

You let out a laugh as you smack your best friend’s arm. “I know, but I hope you enjoy reading it.”

His glare shifts back to a look full of adoration. And with that, he says, “I know that we always tell you that we’ll love whatever you write about, but this one might be my favorite. I can’t believe you think we’re worthy enough to be written about.” He wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you into a side hug. “I’m excited to read it.”

You wrap your arm around his waist in an attempt to reciprocate the action. “I would write thousands of stories about you guys. I hope you know that.”

If you were given only one topic to forever write about, you would not hesitate to pick your friend group. The reality is that there may not be enough words to truly describe how much love you have for them, but you can only hope that the stories that people have the privilege of reading will show them a love that is unlike any other.

“Okay,” you say as you unwrap your arm from his waist while he does the same from your shoulders. “I’ll see you sometime.”

As you shoot him a grin, Chanhee cannot help but smile back. “Yeah, get home safe, okay? I’ll make sure that we read it by tonight.”

You wave him goodbye before turning around and walking away. As you take your steps leading to the car, you cannot help but feel anxiety slowly bubble within you. Maybe your words would reach out to that one best friend—you can only hope he can read between the lines.

It is 8:34 PM. To Changmin’s surprise, practice ended earlier than expected. Almost everyone has left the dance studio, leaving him and his two best friends. The two were reading the broadsheet as they waited for him to get ready to go home. He got a copy as soon as he saw the stands filled with them.

The sight of your byline on the cover page warmed his heart—he wished he could tell you how proud he is of you in person, but your different schedules prevented him from doing so. Although he knew he could shoot you a message or ring you up, he wanted to hug you and tell you face-to-face.

He wipes away his sweat with a towel that hangs around his neck. As he makes his way to where his two friends sit to grab his jug, he does not miss the way their mouths part open with eyes filled with adoration. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What are you guys reading?” Their eyes snap towards him.

“You need to read this,” Sunwoo finally speaks up as he hands him the broadsheet. Changmin cannot help but still keep his eyebrows furrowed. Once he lets his eyes drift down to the paper, he notices that it is opened to the opinions section. He remains confused as his eyes skim through. That is until he spots your byline.

Followed by the title “Linked arms and bruised hearts,” your byline is positioned below it. His best friends do not miss the way his eyebrows shoot up. All this time, he was under the impression that you did not end up pushing through with writing an opinion piece, so to see that you have written two and a half columns worth had him surprised.

“Did you guys know they wrote an opinion piece?” He asks as his eyes snap back to Chanhee and Sunwoo. As the two shake their heads, he looks back at the broadsheet. He slowly takes a seat on the floor as his eyes remain on your article.

Linked arms and bruised heartsBy Y/N

Meet-cutes; love letters; playlists filled with romantic songs—that is all I know about love. Growing up, all the media I’ve surrounded myself with has shown me what love should be. Movies have taught me that love is grand confessions in front of a crowd of strangers while music has shown that it all comes from throwing stones at windows late at night. And the novels I’ve read are filled with poetic words that you would never hear in casual conversations.

With these media surrounding romance, I was fed with supposed “realistic” scenarios; bumping against someone in hallways and grazing hands with them as they help you pick up items that have dropped to the ground; spilling coffee on someone’s shirt and promising to make up for it through a date; being approached by someone in a bookstore who passionately talks about the book you picked up.

Aside from these storylines, I found my heart in the hands of fictional main leads who utter words of never-ending love. Their flirtatious remarks never fail to make me scream into pillows or cause butterflies to swarm my stomach.

I enjoyed it all because the feeling I got from consuming these brought the utmost joy into my fickle life. Unbeknownst to me, I never knew the consequences that came from these—especially for someone who has never experienced romantic love firsthand.

Never receiving love notes or being asked out on dates took a toll on how I perceived myself. While everyone gets to receive chocolates and flowers, I was left to imagine such a feeling through every possible form of media I can consume. At first, I told myself that I would have my moment—all it takes is time. But further down the long journey, I started to believe that I was put into this world to never experience it.

Having to think I was undesirable at the early stages of my teenage years made me believe that love is a privilege—something that not everyone can receive. The more I let such a mentality persist, the more I started to believe that my only role on Earth was work. With that, I believed that my future would have me waking up to work and going to sleep exhausted—all by myself.

That is until I met three boys who seemingly changed the trajectory of how my future would play out.

Funnily enough, I knew these three during my time chasing romance. These best friends of mine were some of the many to experience the love I desperately craved. You would think that I would hate being stuck in that position—that I would resent them for easily receiving something I longed for. But oddly enough, I was happy to bear witness to all their adventures because they showed me love I have never seen in movies.

As others give chocolates on Valentine’s Day, they would bring me home-cooked meals for no particular occasion. While people received “just because” flowers, I got “just because” playlists for they knew I would cherish them more. But these are only actions that cannot truly capture what they have shown me during the years I never knew of romantic love.

In our friend group, to love is to reestablish one’s independence—each person deserves to take up space in the world. And somehow, these three spent their time building me back up without me noticing. From my perception of being undesirable, I only started to learn how to be comfortable in my skin through the support they continued to shower me with.

Before I knew it, I found myself content with my uneventful love life. At one point, I stopped chasing the romance that artists sing of. It was only later on learned that love spoken of in the media is not always romantic; it can be platonic as well.

The love found in our friendships is not meant to be treated as second to the romantic one we seek. If anything, what we receive in our friendships shows us enough of what love overall should be; understanding of boundaries; shoulders to lean on at any time; and support even if you never ask. 

I eventually found myself in a position where I could comfortably say that I was okay with my lackluster love life. The only reason I can say this is because my friends have shown me so much love that I do not need to seek it in other avenues.

I hope that when they read this, they know that I am forever indebted to them. Knowing them, they would say that this is all the bare minimum—that they would do it all without any question. But for someone whose understanding of love was skewered by media, my bruised heart has slowly healed through the care they have shown me throughout the years,

I hope that my future will always have them in it for I can never imagine a world without them. They are the reason why I know of love now—a reason why I choose to keep on going. And I now know that love is not an idea that the media monetizes off of. I exist in a reality where I got to meet my best friends—that is how I know love is real. 

I used to think I would forever remain clueless about love, but the reality is that I actually know of it all now. Linking arms as you walk to nowhere; picnic dates in the middle of winter; agreements of sticking together past the age of 30—that is everything I know about love. 

Changmin cannot help but feel his mouth part open as he reads your words. His heartstrings tug at your words. To learn that the reason you know of love is due to your group of four made him realize how much he does love you—and not just the platonic form.

For you, he would act as the arms that you can go back to at the end of the day; he would be your morning alarm and make sure you get out of bed in time; he would be everything you need and want because he loves you.

As soon as his eyes move back to his two best friends who can only smile, he realizes that your opinion piece is not only a commemoration of the love you receive from him, Chanhee, and Sunwoo. Rather, it is your way of finally sharing your feelings—ones that you were too afraid to tell him face-to-face.

“I have to go,” he whispers before handing back the broadsheet to the two.

Once he grabs his stuff, he dashes out of the dance studio, leaving Chanhee and Sunwoo all alone. “You think Y/N will have the guts to say it themselves?” Chanhee decides to ask the boy who sits beside him.

For Sunwoo, he would say you could never admit such feelings to your crush. That is why it is a miracle that Jacob was forward with you. But with Changmin, he cannot help but smile to himself.

“Yeah,” he voices out. “If they had the guts to write something like this, then I’m sure they want something with him after all.”

Your place feels duller than usual; the lights look dimmer; the pictures on the wall look less saturated; the air forms goosebumps all over your skin. As you sit in your kitchen with leftover bibimbap from yesterday, you stare at your phone as you eat away at the sad meal. It is not that it tastes bad, but something is preventing you from enjoying the food in front of you.

Hours have passed since you last saw Chanhee. Around this time, Sunwoo and Changmin might be finishing up their practice. The thing is you expect to receive a message at least from one of the three. Yet, your phone remains silent—no notification from them whatsoever.

At this point, you can feel the anxiety start to eat you away—it takes its time to nibble each limb of yours while you do nothing to stop it. There is no way to cease it, though. All you can do is sit and let it do its work. You can only hope that some sign from the universe would do something to keep it at bay.

And just like that, the doorbell rings.

With your mouth full of rice, beef, and stir-fried vegetables, you get off your seat and walk to the door. You take a peek into the peephole only to see the one guy you were terrified to be face-to-face with. You almost think to not open the door; maybe he will give up on waiting and walk away. But when his eyes trail from the floor to stare directly through the peephole, you freeze.

“Y/N? Can we talk?” He asks, almost like he knows you stand at the other side of the door. You wish you could do anything but just stand still. “I want to talk because I think I won’t be able to sleep well tonight if I don’t. But if you don’t want to have that conversation right now, I can wait another day.”

Your heart warms at his words. Even in a moment like this, he still cares about your comfort. Regardless of what you revealed in your opinion piece, he would willingly deal with restless nights if it meant giving you time to muster enough courage to talk about the elephant in the room. But the reality is that waiting for any other day will prolong your suffering.

When you notice Changmin slowly move away from the door, you quickly swing the door open. There he stands with eyes wide from the sudden action. As you swallow down the food in your mouth, you also swallow down your fears. You find yourself taking steps back, eyes still on him as he leaves his shoes outside before entering your place. He shuts the door behind him before dropping everything he carries to the floor but one thing—the broadsheet.

For a moment, you two stand still with no sound leaving any of your mouths. You almost think that you need to start the conversation, but the silence makes it all too difficult to speak.

“Y/N,” he calls out your name at first. You do not miss how his eyes are filled with wonder—one that resembles hope in the face of trouble. “I read it, and I loved it. I love knowing that Sunwoo, Chanhee, and I have shown you all of these.” Then his eyes trail back down to the paper he holds. “But I need to know if there’s something in between the lines or if it’s just me hoping for nothing.”

The way he stands in front of you is more vulnerable than ever, more than when he first approached you when he lost his competition. His shoulders are slumped in anxiety as he continues to look at the broadsheet that is opened to your opinion piece. And as your mouth opens in an attempt to speak, he looks back at you.

Under his stare, you know there is nothing you should worry about. But the reality is that sharing the most intimate parts of yourself with someone will always be difficult—confessing to your best friend will never be as easy as you hope for it to be.

Your mouth snaps close. As you look down to the ground, you bite the inside of your cheek as you think over the right words to say. Your brain rattles for a moment as you try to make a script on the spot. But you realize there is not enough time in the world to figure out what to tell him. And there will never be enough words to capture what you feel towards the boy who stands across from you.

“I used to think I would never have the privilege of receiving love,” you start. “You’ve read about it in that piece that’s in your hands, but it’s only a surface level of all my fears.”

Your eyes now look back up to him. His expression never falters, but it remains as fearful as yours. “I thought I was destined with a lonely future, that the reason why I was never asked out on dates or been confessed to is because there will never be space for another person in my life. So when Jacob started to show some interest in me, I thought it was the universe playing tricks on me.”

You find yourself letting out a small chuckle as you shift your weight from your left foot to the right. “I mean, you’re the one person who knows it the most. I told you that one night in the convenience store and that one time during the winter break.”

“And for a period, I thought that I was comfortable with occasional crushes because I didn’t have to commit to anything. I started to think that uncertainty was my way of sabotaging everything good coming my way, but I realized that it stemmed from my inexperience with love overall.”

You take a deep breath before saying, “But when I saw Hanhee and Byungho that one night where they were cuddling, I realized how nice it would be to just have someone to go back to at the end of a long day—to have a home in a form of a person.” You do not miss the way his eyes slowly start to fill with an emotion you cannot recognize.

“So I thought about who I would love to still see when I’m working, and I can only think about you three. I always find myself wishing that time will treat us well. I want us to remain together no matter what stage we are in our lives. And never once will I ever find myself trading our group for anything else—even for a shot in romance.” As you say those words, you notice a small smile that forms on his lips.

Because it is true—why would you trade years of genuine love and care for something that you do not know about? Why would you give up something so pure for something uncertain? And you know that love for others means taking risks, whether calculated or out of genuine impulse. And you would never consider yourself a risk taker. But you find yourself making an exception to do it just this once—one for your best friend.

“I love Sunwoo and Chanhee more than anything in the world,” you say. And now, you find yourself more scared than ever to admit the next sentence. You can hear your heartbeat out of your chest as you two stand in silence. But even if the boy across from you is dying to hear the next words, he never pushes you to say it if you are not ready.

You cannot help but smile at him. “But with you, Changmin,” you manage to choke out despite the anxiety that bubbles within you. “I wish that you will continue to link arms with me because I have found myself growing fond of it; I want you to continue accompanying me as we work on different tasks; I hope that after every day, whether boring or tiring, I can go back to you.”

And with your next words, he cannot help but feel all resolve crumble. “I think that you are the home I want to go back to.” You let your eyes flicker back down to the paper that he holds. “I found myself hoping that we’re both single when I turn 30 just so that I have more of an excuse to want you in my home.”

“And even though I have learned of love through you three, I want to experience the one I desire with you.” You let yourself smile as you look back up to him. “I hope that you will reserve enough love just for me as I already have for you.”

The next thing you know, Changmin drops the broadsheet to the ground. As he makes his way closer to you, you can feel your heart beat out of your chest. The distance between you two grows smaller. And when his face is inches away from yours, your breath hitches.

You notice the moles found on his face—one under his lip and another that rests on the bridge of his nose. His hair is a little messy from practice, with some strands slightly up. And his eyes are now filled with an emotion you cannot figure out.

You want to beg him to say something—anything, really. But when his hands reach out to grab hold of your face, all thoughts are knocked out.

His eyes flicker down to your lips before going back right to your eyes. “I will always want to be that home for you,” he whispers. “I always saw you as a place of solace for me, but I hope I can become that for you forever.” And he smiles at you before saying, “I have so much love stored in me that's made just for you.”

Before you know it, you find yourself closing the distance between you two. With eyes closed, you place your lips on his. The kiss is everything comforting and vulnerable—almost like how you would describe your relationship with him. His hands remain holding your face, his thumb occasionally sweeping across your cheek.

The warmth that fills your body is like no other—as if the sun has emerged within you. His hands on your cheeks remind you of all the seasons you have spent with him. Whether in summer or winter, he will always hold you because he loves you. And it is only starting to sink that he does love you—that he has so much love within him just to give to you.

He does not attempt to deepen it, fully aware that all of these are foreign waters. So when you find yourself parting from the kiss in an attempt to catch your breath, his eyes are full of concern.

He is about to ask you something until you beat him to it. “Was that right?” As you whisper the question out, he cannot help but feel his heartstrings tug. He finds himself smiling while your eyes remain wide with curiosity. “Oh god, I just realized I kissed you without brushing my teeth!” Your exclaim does nothing but make him laugh.

“Don’t worry about what’s right. Just let me take the lead,” he says. “And I’d kiss you anytime, even after you’ve eaten or brushed your teeth.” You cannot help but smile, a giggle leaving your mouth.

The thing about Changmin is that he knows you inside out, from how you worry about everything to your fear of being vulnerable in front of anyone. But he knows how to support you—to tell you when to rest and to build a space where you do not have to be afraid to share your deepest sentiments.

Although the love you two first shared came from a place of platonic nature, it slowly shifted without you two noticing. And while everyone seemed to comment that what you two have seems to teeter between the boundary of platonic and romance, you never allowed their words to truly sway what you thought about your relationship. To you and Changmin, all that matters is what you decide on.

Your home is livelier than ever; the lights shine brighter than usual; the pictures on the wall are full of color; you find yourself warm despite the cold air. As soon as his arms wrap around you, you can feel your heart soar to heights that have never been imagined. You allow yourself to snuggle closer to him, having your face rest in the crook between his neck and shoulder. All that can be said is that you both are happy. You love each other—both platonically and romantically.

“When does this graduation end?” Sunwoo complains beside you as he lets himself melt in the chair. “If I knew this would take forever, I would have eaten something heavy for breakfast.”

You roll your eyes. “Everyone told you it would take long. That’s on you now.”

The boy scowls at you before saying, “Yeah, yeah. You’re only not complaining because you get to see your stupid boyfriend on stage.” You gasp as he says those words. “I said what I said!”

“That boyfriend you’re referring to is your best friend, by the way! And we’re here to support our other friends.”

“Yeah, no one cares. Don’t forget that I was your best friend first, so you need to take my side if we end up fighting.” From his response, you roll your eyes. You knew that Sunwoo was only joking around, saying nonsense just to pass the time. 

It is 3:23 PM, and you two are seated by the bleachers as you wait for the graduation ceremony to end. From the people graduating, you two were able to recognize many faces that you would have to say goodbye to—Juyeon to name a memorable face.

“I’m just saying that I can’t believe they won’t let us sit with the Ji family. I mean, we’re practically part of them! And since you’re dating him, you’re basically an in-law.” Sunwoo’s attempt to justify his disbelief towards the situation has you chuckling.

Before you can comment, the person who stands by the lectern announces a familiar name. “Choi Chanhee; bachelor of arts degree in Photography; Magna Cum Laude.” As your best friend makes his way to the middle of the stage, you and Sunwoo get off your seats.

“Go, Chanhee!” You find yourself cheering as loud as you can. 

“Chanhee-ah, you’re so cool!” The boy beside you shouts out loud in an attempt to embarrass your best friend (while embarrassing you both in the process). You notice Chanhee’s attempts to hold back his laugh as he grabs his diploma. He clearly heard your cheers all the way from the bleachers.

Once he bowed and made his way off the stage, you and Sunwoo fell back down to your seats. “Well, we succeeded in embarrassing Chanhee,” you say, which earns a laugh from your best friend.

You let out a sigh before going back to the topic. “I am not an in-law. I mean, Changmin and I only became official like a month and a half ago!” When you look at your best friend, he only stares at you in disbelief.

“Y/N, his family loves you—always have and always will. I think they’re just waiting for him to put a ring on your finger.” You laugh in disbelief.

“Moon Hyungseo; bachelor of arts degree in Psychology; renowned Features editor for two academic years; Magna Cum Laude.” With that, your conversation gets cut short. As your old editor makes his appearance, you two get off your seats and cheer him on.

“Go, Kevin hyung!” Sunwoo cheers beside you. Although Kevin may not be able to hear you guys, you know that he would still appreciate your cheers. As soon as he makes his way off the stage, you two fall back down to your chairs.

You look at your best friend and say, “Again, I just started dating Changmin. We haven’t discussed marriage at all because we are too young to begin with.” You go back to looking at the stage as more unfamiliar faces get their diplomas. “A lot of this is still new to me, you know? So I still find myself kind of nervous about this whole setup.”

The boy beside you hums. “I mean, it’s valid for you to be nervous. You two were friends before officially being together. And I know it’s still new for you, but it is for him also.” You cannot help but look back at him. “I mean, he’s only gone on dates and had one relationship back in high school. I’m sure he’s just as nervous as you are.” Your attention goes back to the stage. 

Sunwoo is right—you and Changmin barely had enough knowledge of what comes out of a romantic relationship, but both of you can recognize that your dynamic did slightly change. Most actions that you two did while you were still friends remained; linking arms; occasional banter; and sitting in comfortable silence.

However, with the new nature of your relationship, you started to notice that your boyfriend has gone out of his way to spend more time with you whenever possible. Aside from that, he would buy you two meals to share for every dinner, making sure that you ate the right amount of food. Of course, you would find yourself kissing him more—sometimes leading to more heated make-out sessions thanks to him. But for the most part, you were happy with what you have with him now.

Before you can say anything, the emcee calls out, “Jacob Bae; bachelor of arts degree in Korean Language and Literature; Summa Cum Laude.” The two of you two stand up once more from your seats. As you watch Jacob make his way to the dean, you cannot help but cheer him on as he grabs his diploma.

“Go, Jacob!” Your shout is loud, reaching its way to the boy who is on stage. He scans the crowd until his eyes land on you and Sunwoo. At the sight of you two clapping, he cannot help but smile back before bowing and making his way off the stage.

Once you two sit back down, you cannot help but let out a small sigh. “I think it’s still surreal that I’m with Changmin, you know?” You voice out your concerns to your best friend. “I mean, I never once imagined myself being with my best friend.”

In your peripheral vision, you see the way Sunwoo nods. “I still can’t believe my two childhood besties are together. Like, you’re going to make me third-wheel every time Chanhee is not with us.” You roll your eyes as you smack his arm. He lets out a chuckle at your reaction. “But if I’m going to be honest, I’m glad that you two have each other.”

You smile at his words as your eyes remain on the stage. “Lee Jaehyun; bachelor of arts degree in Archaeology; Magna Cum Laude.” As soon as the emcee calls out the name, you spot Hyunjae making his way to the middle of the stage. You and Sunwoo get off your seats to cheer him on, but you cannot help but remember your conversation with Chanhee.

“Yeah, Hyunjae hyung and I are just friends,” Chanhee says as he scrolls through the photos on his camera.

Your friend group is seated by your hideout. While Chanhee assesses his photos, Sunwoo is busy animating his final project. You are also writing one of your final papers for class all while Changmin is adding some final edits to his thesis paper. Although you two were working, your boyfriend could not help but keep his hand on your thigh—not in an attempt to arouse you but just to hold you out of pure comfort.

“Really? How come?” You decide to ask as you rip your eyes away from the screen.

Chanhee looks away from his camera to look at you. “I’ve mentioned this already to Changmin, but I think we’re just friends. We did like each other at first, but the dates we went on made us realize that maybe it’s better to keep it platonic.” You only hum as you stare at the boy who sits across from you. “Hyunjae also admitted that he still has something complicated with his ex.”

Sunwoo clicks his tongue. “Kim Younghoon, right? The culinary student?” Chanhee nods at his words. “Yeah, I think I heard about that before. I didn’t know they would get back together.”

Chanhee can only shrug. “I mean, I don’t know what will happen between the two. And if Hyunjae and I ever decide to revisit the idea of dating, I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” he finds himself admitting. “But now, I’m okay with where I am now. I’m happy with the love I receive from you guys.” As he says those words, you cannot help but smile. You knew he was referencing your opinion piece.

“Honestly, me too,” Sunwoo chimes in with eyes remaining on his tablet as he draws away. “I hate to flatter Y/N once more, but I think that opinion piece did make me realize how okay I am with being single. And it’s not like I’ll give up on romantic love entirely, but I’m comfortable waiting it out.”

You pout at your best friend’s words before saying, “Thanks guys, I mean it.”

“Of course, it means a lot that you wrote about us. Even if it was your attempt to confess to Changmin, we’ll still take it,” Chanhee says, only making your boyfriend giggle. “How ironic that you talked about being okay with platonic love while your main goal was to get with Changmin after all.” You know your best friend says it sarcastically, but you want to be clear with your point.

“Hey! The main goal of the piece was really to talk about how fulfilled I feel from the love that comes from you guys. Aren’t you guys happy that I don’t use romantic love as my basis for self-worth anymore?”

“Of course we’re happy. I mean, that’s all we want for you,” Changmin says as he looks at you. “We never wanted you to think you’re worth any less just because you never got love notes or chocolates from admirers.” He takes a look at his two other best friends. “I think we all had this silent agreement to help in rebuilding your self-esteem. I think all of us wanted to make sure that everyone can be comfortable independently while still having shoulders to lean on for support.”

As he says those words, you cannot help but nod along with him. In your group, the one thing you all care about the most is boosting each other’s self-esteem. The reality is that it is hard to reestablish that sense of independence and self-worth all by yourself. That is why friends play an important role as they support you, whether through cheering you on in certain endeavors or just in general reassurance.

“Yeah, I think that I never really found myself being confident in my skills in photography and video editing until I met you three. I mean, it pushed me to make that documentary for the K-Pop student idols coverage,” Chanhee says with a smile. “Thank you for bringing me to your group.”

Sunwoo smiles at his best friend who sits beside him and says, “I don’t know if we ever told you, but our group never felt complete until you came into the picture. You helped to get that ball rolling—finding ways to help us find happiness in being independent. And along the journey, you reminded us of the importance of leaning on each other.” You notice the way Chanhee pouts at his words. “I hope you know how much we appreciate you for looking out for us.”

Before you know it, tears stream down Chanhee’s cheeks. “Guys, I can’t believe you’re making me cry right now.” You and Changmin stand up from your seats, grabbing onto your boyfriend’s hand as you two make your way to the other side of the picnic table. Sunwoo has already scooted closer to Chanhee, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. With that, you and Changmin hug your best friend who cannot help but cry from all the love he receives.

“I love you, Chanhee,” you whisper into his hair. You let your chin rest on his head as you look at Sunwoo and Changmin. “And I love you both. Thank you for teaching me what it means to love and to be loved.”

You cannot help but smile at the memory. The love felt in your friend group never fails to tug on your heartstrings. The reality is that you were lucky to have them—not everyone has the privilege of being friends with the three. Although you like to call them your demons who never fail to rile you up or press your buttons, you know that the love they shower you with will be greater than whatever anyone can show you.

As soon as Hyunjae makes his way off the stage, you and Sunwoo go back to sitting down. “Do you think Changmin and I will end up like Chanhee and Hyunjae?” You decide to finally ask. A part of you fears that what you two have is a mistake—that you both mistook whatever feelings you harbor for each other.

But Sunwoo always finds a way to reassure you while telling you the truth. “We’ll never know for sure because only time can tell what’s in store for you two.” You find yourself nodding at his words. “But for me, I think what you have with Changmin is special. I don’t think anything can compare to what you two have.”

You find yourself smiling at his words before looking at him. “I love you, Sunwoo. You know that, right?” He looks back at you with a small smile before nodding.

“I love you, too. I have always known that since our first days being seatmates in grade school. I knew that the universe brought us together for a reason, and I’m glad that I will always have you in my life.” From his words, you cannot help but lean your head on his shoulder. As he wraps his arm around your shoulders, you watch more unfamiliar faces come and go.

As soon as many unfamiliar students grabbed their diplomas, you notice that they have finally started to call students with special awards. And the emcee’s next words make you smile. “Now, to formally award the student with the most outstanding graduate thesis, we hereby present Ji Changmin; bachelor of science degree in Early Childhood Education; Summa Cum Laude.” As soon as they call out your boyfriend’s name, you and Sunwoo immediately get off your seats and cheer your hearts out.

The sight of Changmin walking up to the middle of the stage with a smile pulls at your heartstrings—you are proud of everything that he does. He always finds ways to continuously prove himself, and you hope he knows that everyone recognizes his efforts. And more than that, you hope that he sees that these achievements are only a fraction of who he is. Changmin is more than just awards—he is everything good found in this world.

“Changmin-ah! I love you!” You find yourself shouting out loud. Despite wanting to stay out of the spotlight on most occasions, there is no sense of shame within you as you cheer those words out. You want the world to know that you would gladly be under the light if it meant showing your support for the boy who you love.

Your shout is loud as it reaches all the way to Changmin. His eyes flicker towards you, and his smile gets bigger at the sight of you. He raises his pinky out towards you—a promise that all he does will be for you and himself. And you find yourself doing the same, promising him that all you want is for both of you to succeed with each other’s support.

“I can’t believe it’s only going to be me and Sunwoo.” The four of you are by your hideout, sitting on the picnic table for one last time as a complete group. You find yourself leaning your head on Changmin’s shoulder with arms still linked with each other. “I can’t keep being stuck with that loser!” Your eyes rest on the boy you have known for more than twelve years.

Sunwoo glares at you. “Yah! You think I like being stuck with you?” As you two make faces at each other, you can feel Changmin’s shoulders shake from his chuckle.

“Did you bring the multi-tool?” Chanhee finally asks his best friend who sits beside him. Once Sunwoo hands it to him, he smiles at you three. “What shall we carve on this little table of ours?”

“Why don’t you just carve our initials? It’s simple,” you suggest, only to earn groans from a particular someone you seem to be stuck with.

“Boring! Think of something fun, you know?” Sunwoo’s response only has you rolling your eyes. “What about a diamond? You know, because it has four sides and we’re four people.”

Chanhee cannot help but scowl at him. “Even worse than what Y/N suggested.” Sunwoo only frowns at him. “What about you, Changmin? Any ideas?”

For a moment, he hums as he thinks of anything possible to carve. You almost start to think he has no suggestions with how long his hum lasts. That is until he suggests a symbol perfect to describe your four.

“What about a bandaged heart? You know, we all have bruised hearts from what life decides to bring our way, but we keep on going because we have each other.” Your boyfriend’s suggestion makes you three smile.

“Ah, you stole that from Y/N’s opinion piece,” Chanhee playfully scolds Changmin. But he finds himself nodding before saying, “But I think it does perfectly describe us.”

As he slowly starts to carve out the symbol, Sunwoo decides to speak up. “I was thinking we can drag Eric to join us here if you don’t mind?” The question is more directed towards you, making you hum in agreement. “He has this other friend who I think you’ll get along with. His name is Haknyeon.” You find yourself smiling at your best friend’s words.

“I’m down for that,” you say before lifting your head off your boyfriend’s shoulder. “I mean, as long as you’re there, I don’t mind.”

As you admit that to Sunwoo, he cannot help but smile back. However, he quickly covers it up by saying, “Ugh, so obsessed with me! Changmin, how do you deal with Y/N?” You gasp at your best friend’s words. What is even worse is that your boyfriend says nothing to defend you, only laughs along.

“Yah! Ji Changmin! How could you let him say that?!” Despite your complaints, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to him, smothering your left cheek with kisses. The sight makes Sunwoo and Chanhee roll their eyes, but everyone is happy to see the new shift in the relationship.

Once Chanhee finishes carving out a beautiful image of a bandaged heart, everyone cannot help but smile at the sight. The lines of the heart are a little jagged—not very neat but it is clear to see that it is a heart. The bandage on it, however, is nice and clean. You cannot help but think the symbol is perfect to capture your friend group.

Although the bandaged heart may look a little rough, the idea still lives forever on this picnic table that became a getaway for your group. This place has witnessed all the laughs and tears you can ever recall in your college life. You hope that the next group of friends that stumble upon this spot will find solace the same way you four did.

Sunwoo shoots a look at Chanhee before saying, “Come on, let’s leave these two lovebirds to do whatever shit they need to do.” As soon as he stands up, Chanhee follows him. But before they decide to leave you two, Sunwoo says, “Please do not have sex on the table.”

You find yourself reeling at your best friend’s words. “Yah! Who do you think we are?”

Your two best friends look at each other before their eyes land back on you and Changmin. “We’re just saying that your boyfriend is quite scandalous.” Once you look at your boyfriend, you notice the frown on his face that is accompanied by cheeks that are dusted pink from what his friends revealed.

“And we’re off!” Chanheee exclaims. Just like that, your two best friends make their way out of the hideout, leaving you and your boyfriend all alone.

Although Changmin has his arm wrapped around your waist, you cannot help but shoot him a look of suspicion. “So, what type of kinks have you not revealed to me? I thought we knew everything about each other?” Your boyfriend rolls his eyes before placing another kiss on your cheek.

“That conversation is for another day,” he whispers with a smile. You only roll your eyes at his attempt to change the topic. He then says, “I want you to tell me about your plans for next year.” And with that, you show him a small smile before going on a tangent on what you have in store for the Features staff.

Around a month ago, you received news that you would take over as the Features editor. The day you got the news happened to land on the same day as Sunwoo’s and Changmin’s year-end concert. Your boyfriend was recognized for his beautifully crafted choreographies, and you remember how happy you were to see the standing ovations he received. So when you told him during dinner that you’ll be the incoming Features editor, you remember the joy that took over his face. It was one for the books—the day brought only good news. 

A few days after the year-end concert, Kevin held one last meeting with the Features staff as a whole. It happened over lunch in the restaurant of Mr. Lim’s, the same owner whom you interviewed for the small business coverage. The food was to die for; the sour taste of the Kimchinigang, a pork stew that is mixed with vegetables and kimchi; the savory taste of the Beef Pares jajangmyeon, a black bean noodle dish accompanied with braised beef; and the sweet taste of turon hotteok, a banana-filled pancake.

Everything about that lunch felt comforting, from the food to the people you were with. You wish you could have frozen that moment—make time stand still even for a few minutes longer. But of course, moments like these always come to an end. It feels bittersweet to recall.

“Do you think you can pass me some soup?” Yunjin asks from beside you while she hands her bowl to you, eyes staring at the spicy pork stew. As soon as you pour enough soup with pieces of pork and vegetables, she signals you to stop.

You pass her the bowl with a smile and ask, “So, will I see you next year?”

She smiles at you. “Of course, I like it here.” She looks around the table to see that the staff is finishing up their meals. “I think I’m just going to miss a lot of people, but,” her eyes then land on you. “I’ll still be with you.”

Your heart warms at her words. The grin on your face is something that cannot be wiped. “I don’t know how I’ll be able to do this editor shit, so I’m glad I’ll at least have some familiar faces.”

Yunjin cannot help but nudge your side before taking a sip of her soup. “You’re not alone. I mean, me and Chaeyeon unnie will be here.” You let your eyes lie on the girl Yunjin sits across from, seeing that she is in the middle of a conversation with Seungcheol.

“Yeah,” you say as you smile to yourself.

Before you can say anymore, you feel the person on your other side nudging you. You roll your eyes before looking at the boy who seemingly interrupted your thoughts. “And what do you want from me, Mr. Bae?”

Jacob chuckles as he takes one more bite of the pancake. “Are you ready for Kevin’s speech?” You cannot help but furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “You think Kevin would end his term as an editor without some parting words?”

Before you can share your thoughts, you notice your editor get off his seat with a glass filled with some unknown cocktail in his hand. Everyone snaps out of their conversation as they stare at the boy who clears his throat.

“I think that it’s only right to say something before officially ending my term as your editor,” he starts off. His eyes scan over the people who stay seated, a smile on his lips. “I’ve been the Features editor for two years—some of you guys I worked with for those two entire years while others only one.”

“I have to admit that being an editor is not easy,” he chuckles. “I mean, there were so many times where I even questioned why I ended up becoming one because I thought I wasn’t the right person for the job.”

He bites on his bottom lip as he thinks over the next words to be said. “I used to think that being an editor would be a lonely and pressuring job—one that would have me always act quickly if any issue arises or think quickly to handle all the concerns that may be brought to my attention. And to be fair, it is that, but it’s only the surface of what it means to be an editor.”

“I learned in my two years that I am not just someone who will just guide you throughout all your stay in the publication—I grow with you in the same way you grow as a writer.” His words tug on your heartstrings. Your eyes are now wide due to his moving words.

“I want to thank you all for letting me work with you. It’s been my pleasure to read your pitches and stories that bring change to the community. But I also want to say that it’s been such an honor to get to know you all not only as writers but as individuals.” He takes a moment to breathe. “I have witnessed growth happen to each one of you, and I'm glad I became someone you guys can rely on. Thank you for choosing Features.”

His eyes then land on you, and he flashes you a smile. “Y/N, I know the process of deliberating and accomplishing the application was a difficult one. But I want to tell you how proud I am of you.” You can feel your lips quiver at his words. “I’m glad to hand over my position to you officially.”

Before you know it, Kevin makes his way towards you, finding his spot behind you as he rests his hand on your shoulder. As he rubs your shoulder, he brings his mouth close to your ear only for you to hear. And he whispers, “I still mean what I said then.”

His last sentence is a nod to the individual consultation you had with him regarding the position and your opinion piece. That one statement reminds you that he still thinks you are destined for greatness, and you cannot help but feel heartache. You will never find yourself forgetting the time Kevin spent to foster a space of care and growth not only for you but for the rest of your staff.

And you realize at that moment that you are now passed on with that duty—to build up your staff to become better writers while still looking out for them like you would with your friends. Because your staff will always be your friends before they are writers who work under your care. No matter what position you hold, you know that they are people you can rely on if you need to—the same goes for the editorial board.

When you feel Jacob wrap his arm around you, you notice the way he rubs on your arm. His touch is a comforting one—one where you can find yourself entering a space that is built for you to be vulnerable. And you swear you are not the type of person who will cry in front of anyone. To begin with, you already find it difficult to be vulnerable with your friends.

But at that moment, you feel the waterworks turn on. The tears slowly trail down your face as you bite on your bottom lip. Accompanied by Jacob’s comforting rubs, you feel the way he pulls you to his side so that you are closer to him. You wish you could find the right words to say at that moment, but you realize that the rest of the staff do not expect you to say anything because they understand how bittersweet this moment is.

With the way Kevin and Jacob hold you in an attempt to comfort you, you realize how indebted you are to these two. They have done nothing but care for you almost in the same way Sunwoo, Changmin, and Chanhee have for you. And it pains you to know that you will not see their faces on campus for the next year—that they will never see you doing your editor duties.

But you realize that does not have to be the case because you now know that the working relationship you have with the two has now blossomed into one of friendship. You now know you are not bidding them farewell, but an “I’ll message you whenever” instead. You are glad to have joined the publication because this choice brought you to them. 

You were proud of how much you two have achieved during this difficult journey. You two have come so far—from high schoolers who were still navigating the uncertainties of adolescent years to adults who have achieved heights never imagined. Although you two still had to navigate the joys and struggles of adulthood outside of college years, you knew that you had each other to rely on.

“I’m proud of you,” your boyfriend says as soon as you finish listing some plans for the next academic year. You cannot help but smile at his words. “I mean, I’ve seen you from just being a writer to taking a spot on the editorial board. I’m so glad I got to witness that growth.”

You let your hand reach out to his cheek, your thumb grazing against his cheek. “You know, I’m also proud of you, right?” He shows you a small smile. “I mean, your passion for dance still shows, and I’m glad that you were recognized for your talents and efforts. Despite some losses, you found a way to bounce back,” you say. “And I’m glad that you were able to figure out a career path that works for you.”

He unwraps one arm from your waist so that he can let his hand rest on top of yours that remains on his face. “I’m glad that you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with me. I know how hard it is for you on most days, but I’m happy you’re taking steps to allow for that change.” And you cannot help but feel your bottom lip quiver at his words.

“I love you, Changmin,” you whisper out. You bring your face closer to his so that you can rest your forehead against his. You let your eyes close before saying, “I’m glad I got to learn all about love through you.”

You feel him give you a peck on the lips. The action makes you giggle. As you open your eyes, you see how big his smile is. “I love you, too. Thank you for being my reason to keep on going.”

In your time knowing Changmin, you learned that linked arms always come with bruised hearts—that trusting someone means having to expose your most vulnerable side to them. Although it is hard to take such steps, the feeling that comes from it after is liberating.

The reality is that loving someone means building spaces for them to tell you their deepest sentiments. It also means supporting them in all that their heart lies on—helping to reestablish their independence. But most importantly, it means giving them reasons to keep going on the journey you both embark on.

You have learned about love from your best friends more than romantic media will ever show you. And every day, you are glad to continuously learn all about it through them. And now, all the love that is stored within you will grow in abundance because your friends have spent their time filling you with it.

But most of all, you are happy to know that you are not destined for loneliness in the end. You do not have to think about going back home to a colorless home after every hard day at work. Instead, you knew that your future would be full of warmth and color—all thanks to the one person who has taught you the most about love.

if you liked this, please take some time to reblog this!

[venomous--fics]

Anon asked: maybe a continuation of the peter b parker kid thing where they finally confront the mom and get the readers things back 😩💞💞

a/n: ask and thou shall receive! this spent so long in the drafts bc i felt so insecure about it tbh, so any feedback is appreciated! I love seeing messages about what you guys think! really keeps me motivated! also, requests are open

Warnings: mentions of past abuse

Peter was sitting at the kitchen table, constantly looking at the clock. It was almost 5pm, you were supposed to be home an hour and a half ago. Yes, he keeps track of everyone's schedules, yes he knows the exact second you should be walking through the door. He's already texted you, but maybe you had detention. Nah, you were a good student, he highly doubted you'd have to stay after school.

His phone finally rang, and he was way too quick answering it.

"You okay?"

"I need some help."

"What is it?" he was already out the door.

You sighed, knowing he was probably going to give you an earful later.

"Well, it's a really long story, right.. But my mom showed up after school-"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I think. Anyways, we got into it on the way home, which is no- Not normal." you adjusted how you were sitting, "And since she was dragging me back to the house, I figured I'd just get my crap and come home, right? Makes sense, saves us the tri-"

"She took you without permission?"

"Technically she is my m-...Parent. I guess, y'know, legally she can do whatever- But..Okay." you began to feel bubbles of anxiety and pain and even resentment form deep in your core, "She locked me out." You rubbed your neck.

"Are you," he paused, looking around at all the faces passing by him, "Still there?"

"Yeah. Unfortunately. I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for? Don't apologize, you didn't do anything."

"I keep causing problems for everyone."

"Not for me. Or Mj."

It was quiet on your end.

"You still there?"

"Yeah."

"I'll be there in like ten minutes."

"You probably shouldn't."

"Nah, nah." He said, having a sudden wave of anger rush over him, "Let me take care of this."

And true to his word, Peter was there in ten minutes. You hopped up from your spot on the porch as he made his way up to the door and knocked on it as hard as he could. He gave you a reassuring pat on the back.

The door swung open, and your mother seemed awfully surprised and confused to see some random man just standing there. Peter held no emotion has he looked her dead in the eye, "Can we come in."

She opened the door wider so that way you two could step in.

"Go get your stuff." is all Peter said to you.

Wasting no time, and not wanting to be in the middle of a potential argument between the two, you skedaddled to your room. It almost felt like too much to be in there. It looked so empty and barren compared to your room at Peter and Mjs place. Seems really dull. Lifeless, almost. Dust covered every surface, which meant that nobody had ever even bothered to see if you were even still in there.

You heard their voices from the living room, but they seemed so distant, seeing as all you could focus on was every shitty thing that woman put you through.

You remember the day that you got bit. It made you deathly ill, and you just thought you were dying from some sort of allergic reaction to the spider bite. You tried to get her to take you to any doctor or anywhere that could help because all you could seem to see were stars.

Everything then was so loud. Everything was so bright. It was all too much, and you were certain that the reaper was waiting for you. What did she say?

"Suck it up and stop pretending. Everything has to be so dramatic with you."

Or that time you forgot a single item on the shopping list. You got this whole speech about how stupid you had to have been. To forget one item. It was the world's most useless item.

Everything else seemed to play all over again, all at once. Like a waterfall. It should've made you sad. It should've made you cry, or scream.

You recounted all the times you wanted to fight back, or just run away. Leave everything behind and just run until your legs gave out. But you never did. You always found some reason to linger.

The conversation was growing louder where Peter was.

"You aren't going to do this to them ever again. Sign the papers."

You nearly dropped your last belonging on the floor as you scrambled to your door. Papers? He wasn't serious. Well, obviously he was. He just said it.

"Fine. It's not like the-"

"Zip it. Sign the papers."

"Who are you anyways? The law? If so, whatever they've told you is a b-"

"Listen, lady. I didn't ask for any attitude. I told you to sign the papers." he seemed to huff in annoyance, "That doesn't require talking."

"I'm a good mother."

"And I'm the king of France."

"Really. I gave them a good home. I have fed them and kept them warm-"

"Really? You think you did all that? Or are you convincing yourself that you did all that?"

"I am-"

"Can I be honest with you?"

"Ye-"

"I've never said this about anyone, ever. I don't like speaking to or about anyone like this.. Ever, but, you? I think you're a piece of shit."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, look. You finished signing the papers. I'll take those. Thank you."

Realizing that it was your time to go, you stuffed your blanket into your duffel bag and rushed out the door and down the hall. Peter looked at you, expecting to see at least three bags. But he only saw the one.

"Where's the rest of your stuff."

"Uhm," you shuffled around, pretending as thought you dropped some, "This...This is all my stuff."

"That can't be ri-" He laughed a little, and noting the expression on his face, you saw that he was NOT happy. "That? That single duffle bag is all you have? That's it?"

"Yes..." you took a step back, "This is all.."

"I can't believe it." he said, "You're joking! One bag worth of stuff?"

He turned his attention back to your mother, who, for the first time in your life, actually looked like she got caught red handed, "You're pathetic. Absolutely pathetic."

"But they're so u-"

"No! No, you don't get to talk anymore. You've done enough."

You awkwardly shuffled behind him, in the event that you two had to make a mad dash out the door. That and you needed to not be seen as you tried to hide your almost evil grin.

"The hell is wrong with you? You have this amazing kid, and THAT'S all you've ever gotten for them? And you sit there and call yourself a mother? Absolutely, without a doubt, bullshit. I'd be ashamed of myself to call myself a father if that's all I've provided for my kid. Don't even get me started on you as a person, we made that clear."

It almost felt cursed to hear him swear, seeing as he made it a point to tell you to not swear. Every time you did, you have to give a quarter to the swear jar. Mj was always on your side, though. She'd say a swear that was much worse and have to pay a dollar. Each word had a value.

"Maybe we should just go." you suggested, tugging on the sleeve of his arm, "She's not worth it anymore."

"She was never worth it, it seems."

You finally made eye contact with her, and the look in her eye. It's like she understood, but was choosing to not do anything about the situation. She could look sorry all she wanted, but you knew she wasn't.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. You know that right."

"That means nothing to me."

"I can change."

"If you can change now, that means you could've changed then. You just chose not to."

"But I'm your mother, you should realize how I feel. You should want-"

"You're not my mom. You stopped being my mom the first time you-" You turned towards the door and started walking towards it, "Whatever. You mean nothing to me."

You practically kicked open teh door just to leave, and Peter was right behind you, shouting about how he'd make sure to egg her house everyday, just to piss her off.

"Do you really think I'm amazing?" you asked, the walk home feeling rather quiet.

"I think you're more than that. Just can't put it into words."

"Did you really mean it...That we could egg her house?"

"You want to? There's a store right on the way home."

"How about tomorrow."

"I'll have to clear up my busy schedule. See if I can work in a drive by egging. Well, swing by egging."

"You promise?"

"You kidding? I haven't egged anyone's house since college."

You had so much more you wanted to get off you chest, but you opted to just talk about it at home, with everyone present. You wanted to talk about how you felt about everything, and the papers. Whatever those were. But you were, for the moment, busy laughing about Peter's story about how he used to Egg this one reporters house. Someone named Jonah.

You wonder if Jonah ever put two and two together.

[bunnie-the-lighthouse]

𝒲𝑒 𝐿𝒾𝑒𝒹~

Pairing: ATEEZ Park Seong-Hwa, ATEEZ Choi San & Reader

Warnings: It’s Suggestive, My Friend. Be Careful. (It’s Kind of Long Too)

Inspiration: Not Gonna Lie, I Don’t Know. 

Basic Idea: You Are In A Polyamorous Relationship With San And Seong-Hwa, Your Guardian Angels. But... They Hide A Deep Secret. 

Type: Fluff & Suggestive

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On your way back home you were humming a song, enjoying the tune as it was finally Friday. You were hoping to just get home and cuddle with your favorite boys -- your guardian angels, Seong-Hwa and San.

You opened the door and saw Seong-Hwa organizing the dinner table while San was nowhere to be seen. Smiling at the sight, you once again feel comfortable and recharged after entering your house. “I’m home~” you chirped as Seong-Hwa looked up at you. “Oh! Hi baby,” he smiled as you smiled back.

“Where’s San?” you asked as Seong-Hwa brought out the last plate of steak. “He’s playing online with Yun-Ho,” the raven haired angel smiled at you, “Come on, go change to more comfortable clothes and tell Sannie that we have to eat dinner,” he ushered as you nodded and went off to the shared bedroom.

Opening the bedroom door, you saw San being focused on the game. You quickly gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, catching him off guard. “Oh, _____-ie!” he squealed while giving you a smile. “Hwa finished cooking dinner, let’s go eat, okay?” you asked as he nodded.

You then changed to more comfortable clothes, San saying goodbye to Yun-Ho as he then hugged you from behind. “How was work today?” he asked as you chuckled, “Slightly annoying, but now I feel better,” you responded. Turning around, you hugged him back, laying your head on his chest.

Eating dinner was the same as always, you guys shared how your day was and everything was rather chill. Something that did catch your attention was Seong-Hwa’s eyes. 

They would normally shift color from black to a light blue that resembled the sky. This would normally occur when he felt a strong emotion from you, and when you were recounting your story of how your boss yelled at you, you did feel quite frustrated.

However, this time… His eyes didn’t resemble the sky. They blinked a dark turquoise that you’ve never seen before. It caught you off guard, but you didn’t expect the turquoise to be enchanting -- it was mysterious, deep, and full of… Desire?... You weren’t sure yourself.

You decided to let it slide, and soon after dinner you guys huddled up on the couch to watch a movie. “Hyung, should we watch Fifty Shades of Grey?” San asked as the question caught you off guard, “What? Aren’t you guys not supposed to watch those types of things?” you asked, knowing that the movie was quite graphic from reviews -- you yourself never watched it, you just read reviews.

“I’m sure nothing bad will happen,” Seong-Hwa replied as you still felt concerned. Midway through the movie, you of course felt slightly heated -- however you were sort of worried over the toxicity of that relationship, and mainly, the fact that San and Seong-Hwa shouldn’t be watching this because they are angels… Guardian Angels, to make things worst.

As you leaned your head on San’s shoulder, you felt his hand lay on your thigh, which intrigued you. He was a bit playful, but not to this level. You felt a bit more heated, a wave of desire washing over you. And as you calmed down the strong emotion, you glanced and saw how his once emerald green eyes shone a dark forest green.

Something was definitely wrong. And you couldn’t help but feel excited.

“I see that our little baby has noticed something,” Seong-Hwa suddenly spoke, making you whip your head to look at him. “Huh?” you question as you feel fear creep into your system. Seong-Hwa’s eyes shone the same dark turquoise, and rather than returning to his black marbles…

They stayed in the unusual blue.

“Hwa?” you squeaked out as he smirks, you then felt San kiss your neck from behind, his soft hair tickling you slightly. “Sannie?” you asked but quickly got shut up by Seong-Hwa’s harsh kiss. You whimper at the force, closing your eyes.

Seong-Hwa kissed you hungrily as you couldn’t help but also feel aroused by San’s soft kitten licks on your neck. "It took you some time, _____-ie," San purred out against your neck as you were still confused over what the two angels meant.

You then opened your eyes and saw how Seong-Hwa didn't have two white feathery wings behind him. His halo was also missing… Instead, he had wings resembling those of a black dragon. That is also when you felt

Two sharp teeth graze over your sensitive neck.

"Oh babygirl.. We weren't your Guardian Angels.. In the crooked world that we live in, the only things that exist are those who are evil and those who are neutral. Creatures like us.. Incubus, if you may, were supposed to come here..”

“And ruin you,” San whispered in your ear.

“Though, we disobeyed the rules, and fell for a mortal.. We fell for you, _____,” Seong-Hwa confessed as San trailed kisses from your shoulder to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot softly as Seong-Hwa cupped your cheeks.

San pulled away from your neck, looking down at the mark that he left. Seong-Hwa then rubbed your cheek with his thumbs, "We were supposed to ruin you while you slept, darling.. But you won our dark cold hearts with your peaceful and beautiful face. I felt your sorrow from your tear stained cheeks,"

"And I felt your desperation when you hugged your plushie as if it were the only object that kept you sane."

"We felt connected to you.. And we couldn't ruin you," Seong-Hwa ends as you couldn’t help but look away, freeing yourself from the older’s grasp. You stood up and left to the bedroom, overwhelmed from their sudden reveal.

On the bed you sighed, hiding yourself under the blankets. You heard and felt someone shuffling to lay down next to you, someone else then laid on your other side. “Baby girl?” Seong-Hwa asked as you peaked your head out of the blankets, you were pouting, catching the two incubi off guard as they expected you to be mad.

“I hate you two.. For lying to me.. But I also love you two.. For being next to me and keeping me happy,” you confessed, as if opening the gates, allowing the two to enter your heart. You were about to wrap your arms around Seong-Hwa’s neck, but he stopped you by pinning both of your hands above your head.

“Then.. Should San and I.. Show you a whole new world?” he asked, smirking softly while purring out in ecstasy and love. You couldn’t help but feel enchanted by his dark turquoise pearls -- nodding at his statement.

San then chuckled and used his index finger to guide your view towards him, making you peer into his forest green marbles.While he crashed his lips onto yours, Seong-Hwa took the time to start kissing your neck, creating another mark near your sweet spot, to complement San’s mark.

You moaned in the kiss, feeling more heated as San’s hands trailed down and creeped underneath your shirt, massaging your tummy softly -- the friction making you ticklish. As you squirmed slightly, San and Seong-Hwa pulled away. San looking down and imagining your pleasured face as Seong-Hwa blew on the mark, causing you to exhale shakily.

San then laughed, a bit sinisterly, turning you on even more as he unbuttons his dress shirt with one hand, the other moving his hair back. Seong-Hwa also started unbuttoning his shirt, making you feel flustered -- watching two extremely hot incubi undress.

“Oh, by the way, baby girl.. Before we ruin you, remember that we are incubi, so we are more freaky~”

“We’ll give you an experience that you won’t be able to live if you date a human. Us incubi are especially proud of our skills,”

“We’ll make you squirm from the pleasure,”

“We’ll make you scream our name,”

“We’ll make you wish for more”

… “Are you ready?” …

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hello hello! Bunnie here~

Sorry I’ve been MIA, had to focus lots on school since it’s the last quarter and I was trying to exempt all of my classes to leave school earlier :D

Thankfully, I am officially done with my sophomore year! Yaay! *Claps*

However, one sad thing is that my summer is gonna be hectic =_= so I may not be able to push out as much stuff as I’d like -- I have a summer assignment for AP Language and I’m attending an online Summer Program. 

However, I will try to type some stuff beforehand so that I still have content. 

Anyway, I present to you -- “Guardian Angels” Sannie and Ddeonghwa! :D

Did you like this concept? I did tone down the suggestive since I felt like I crossed the line a few times in the other ones. (Side Note: I did the GIFs myself, which is why the quality is kinda bad T_T)

Please tell me if you liked this! And please! Do send me a message if you have any requests! My inbox is open!

Have fun with your imagination, y’all!

Thanks for the patience and support! I’ll catch y’all next time!

[moonbaby26]

Title: Aftermath

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Continuation of previous chapter. Set after the battle with Apocalypse, you and the others are finally picked up from Cairo by allied forces and transported to a nearby aircraft carrier for temporary shelter/debriefing while you try to arrange travel back into the U.S. The reader helps Peter work through the continued emotional fallout from realizations of all that his father Magneto has done.

Warnings: Some cursing. More emotional baggage being unloaded. But also fluff/comfort, and eventual brief makeout session to help with the stress relief.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @drikawinchester , @n0obmaster69 , @alexloveskili , @what-a-silver-lining , @bluesprings18 , @weakmoony-stuff , @slytherinsi-mp , @wintwrsoldiwr , @tommy-braccoli , @amourtentiaa , @cringingmemeries , @bi-panicatthe-disco

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

——————————

Like Magneto had warned, it’d still been a long time before anyone had come to help. Trying to put back together some semblance of working communication equipment from the remnants of the jet, and whatever they could scavenge from the damaged homes and buildings all around had taken Hank and Moira long enough.

But even when Moira could finally establish renewed contact with the outside world to put out a distress call, finding a U.S. ally willing and even capable to fly into ground zero to pluck all of you out was another matter.

Unfortunately, you had eventually realized that the destruction here in Cairo hadn’t been all there was. Most population centers through the world had been impacted, many of the larger air and naval bases among them. It was hard to say how much had been Apocalypse, and how many had fallen solely because of Magneto though. From the little bit Moira did relay back to you all, the more metal any structure had had in it, the more likely it had ended up decimated.

It was only helicopters that finally came, no runway area available in all the rubble for any larger plane. When the soldiers exited them, you picked up that they were all speaking Greek.

“We’ll all be going to the island of Crete.” Xavier had confirmed, meeting with you all before boarding. “There is an allied naval base there, where U.S. officials will be awaiting to debrief us.”

It was no surprise that he could sense the unease in the majority of you, after all that had occurred the last time you’d been forced into helicopters with men dressed in military fatigues like this.

He had changed then to communicating telepathically with each of you individually, to give the soldiers no chance to overhear. Though the message was the same for everyone. “We will all be split onto only two helicopters. I will be in one, and Jean in the other. If they should even think of anything unsavory, we will, let’s say alter their plans to otherwise. But everyone stay at least paired please as precaution. Together, you are all your own best protection.”

It’d been no question that you would board with Peter. On one helicopter it would end up being the Professor, Moira, Peter, yourself, and the white haired girl you now knew as Ororo Munroe. On the other, Hank, Raven, Jean, Scott, and Kurt.

Ororo had actually been rather nice to talk to, once she was no longer trying to blast you out of the sky anyway. You’d learned she’d been living on the streets of Cairo for quite some time, just stealing to survive before she’d run into Apocalypse by chance when he was first trying to recruit powerful mutants.

When she’d spoken about having no living family, and thereby no desire to stick around in Egypt any longer, Kurt had been the one to excitedly tell her all about the school. Which the Professor had already vowed to rebuild thankfully, inviting Ororo immediately should she wish to join you all.

Gladly, she accepted, and by the time the soldiers were sliding the helicopter doors closed, the sun was finally setting. The interior lighting was already dim, as you glanced over to Peter in the growing darkness, seated together on bench like seats along the inner hull. He’d been waiting until the very last moment you thought to see if Erik would come back, but he never did. Though you couldn’t imagine Magneto ever would have agreed to travel like this. Or that the Greek airmen would have even allowed it, still knowing he was wanted worldwide.

You did believe Xavier though. When the dust finally settled, you thought Erik would be back. He’d find his own way home. And to contact Peter again, he’d only have to reach out to the Professor. Which of course Erik would no doubt, as those two old friends always crossed paths again eventually from all the stories you had heard. They never gave up on each other in the end, despite all their differences in beliefs.

You didn’t fight it when you finally began to nod off. Even over the pulsing of the helicopter and the radio chatter coming from the soldiers’ headsets, it was all just white noise eventually. Peter had his arm around your waist, his head leaned back against the hull and yours on his shoulder as you’d both fallen asleep somewhere over the now moonlit Mediterranean Sea.

——————————

Waking up had been much harder. As stiff as you were from the helicopter ride, you still had been in no hurry to move as you’d heard your name called. Xavier was trying to round you all up before the soldiers got impatient.

They’d at least provided him a wheelchair you noticed as you all groggily reconvened on what was actually the flight deck of a large U.S. aircraft carrier now docked in the bay alongside the Greek naval base.

All of you certainly looked worse for wear, Peter especially had his glasses skewed almost comically now, hair mussed in about every direction as he yawned big, standing on one leg with an arm thrown over your shoulders for support.

Once you were all accounted for on deck, the Professor spoke quickly. “Given the state of things, there will not be any transatlantic flights available currently. We will be staying here in the short term. For all of you, you will be given medical treatment as needed in this ship’s sick bay. We have also been provided sleeping arrangements separate of the crew. I am asking all of you to please rest up as best you can tonight. Moira and I will speak to these gentlemen as to the events that have transpired today.”

The “gentlemen” Xavier referred to looked about as pleased to be here as you all had been to wake up in Stryker’s base. You knew little of actual military rankings, but from the amount of bars on the fronts of their uniforms, you’d guess they were pretty high up there in authority.

But the Professor only continued in your heads for good measure. “Please understand that non-mutants especially are on edge right now. There were fatalities and very extensive damages to some cities today. I implore you all to be patient with any persons you may encounter on this ship. I believe they’ve moved the majority of the crew to the mainland already to better quarantine us here and limit tensions. But please remember, that by your demeanor and your choices, you represent us all. I will reach out to you all as soon as I know anything more on our options for returning home.”

He’d bid you all good night then, leaving with Moira and the most senior looking of the men while the rest of you had followed some nervous looking officers to the lower decks. You got the sense that Hank and Raven now felt obligated to chaperone and protect the group, as the oldest of you now, only second to the Professor.

Raven had assumed her blonde, human appearance before the helicopters had arrived, but without his medicine Hank could only remain in his Beast form. You could tell how uncomfortable both he and Kurt now made the soldiers as Hank had requested to accompany you and Peter to the sick bay, while Raven went with the others to whatever living quarters you were being given.

You’d be lying to say that their obvious judgment on Hank and Kurt’s physical appearances didn’t bother you. But you tried to remind yourself that they also didn’t know any better. They didn’t know how ridiculously smart, and even a bit nerdy and loyal Hank could be. Or how kind, forgiving, and genuine Kurt was.

When you did get to the sick bay, the doctor on call also looked like he’d just been dragged in there against his better judgement. But he did greet you all, saying he’d been made aware that there was a broken leg he needed to set and make a cast for.

His reaction to the metal splint Peter already had though was almost something funny. You knew Peter wanted to joke so badly about his “dad making it for him”, but you’d all agreed before the helicopters had arrived to downplay Erik’s role in all of this if he didn’t show himself.

Xavier had promised to make clear to the U.S. officials that Erik had been on your side in the end though. Yes, Magneto had blood on his hands from past and present, but having the world pursue him any further would only lead to more violence. It wouldn’t undo anything that had already been done.

Beast had been strong enough to unbend the metal with his bare hands, carefully removing the splint. He’d also helped Peter get out of the flight suit and dirtied clothing to wash up. Though they’d just cut his clothing away from his broken leg with surgical shears, not to injure it any further.

They’d put a screen up for some privacy while they worked on him. You knew Hank would protect Peter, so you were okay focusing on yourself a bit as you also got undressed and a nurse checked you for broken bones. With your clothes off, you finally got to see how badly bruised you were everywhere. But they’d agreed that your only actually damaged bones were cracked ribs, which there was no real treatment for save going easy to give them proper time to heal.

After the examination, you were allowed to take a shower. Which was honestly more amazing than you expected, not realizing just how much dirt, sweat, and blood had accumulated through all of this. Afterward, you’d gotten dressed with some clothes they’d left you. A plain white t-shirt with a small U.S. Navy insignia, and dark blue sweatpants essentially.

They’d offered to escort you to where the others were bunked. But you declined, choosing to wait for Hank and Peter instead.

And it had been a while, but eventually they cane back out. You could see they’d gotten the same treatment as you while here. Both had showered, though Peter made a point to laugh at how poor Hank had had to help him essentially get a trash bag tied over his leg cast first so he wouldn’t get it wet.

They had on the same white t-shirts as you as well now. Though even in the largest size, Hank’s looked uncomfortably small. Hank also got the same blue pants as you, but for Peter it was only blue shorts to accommodate his cast. You all looked like you were late for P.E. class honestly, albeit maybe at a U.S. Naval academy somewhere. You’d gotten a good deal of amusement from that.

They’d given Peter crutches too, which he was clearly playing with as he tried to see how quick he could move on them. Hank reprimanded him more than once when Peter had almost fallen flat on his face a few times on your way to the bunks.

The soldiers hadn’t separated you into guys and girls for the sleeping arrangements. Probably because to them the separation was more mutant/non-mutant only in all reality. But it didn’t bother you any. Really you felt safer knowing everyone else was close. By the time you had gotten to the bunks though, it was already lights out and Raven was the only one still awake waiting for you three.

“Sleep where you want,” She said, motioning to all the still empty beds. It looked like this block was meant to house a lot more than just your small number, but had evidently been cleared out for your arrival. Still being on a ship though where space was at a premium and the beds were double stacked and inset into the walls, it would be sleeping like books on a shelf.

You’d walked down a ways past your sleeping friends to find some open ones. Naturally you started to climb into the top bunk, knowing Peter would need the bottom with his cast in the way.

But you didn’t even have both legs pulled in before he startled you by grabbing your ankle. “What?” You breathed in a whisper, not wishing to wake the others as you tried to look down at him in the dark. With the main lights off, there was only the faintest glow from small emergency type lights sparsely spaced along the walls.

Mostly you could just see the white of his teeth, knowing he was grinning back at you. In this moment it reminded you only of the Cheshire cat, mischievous and a little disconcerting.

“There’s room down here, goofball,” He whispered back.

“Peter,” You answered, the tone saying far more than the short response. You weren’t alone here, and it, well it just didn’t seem proper. With the immediate threat of death now finally passed (hopefully), it really felt more like being back at school for the moment. There were standards of behavior and-

“If one of Hank can fit in these, then two of us definitely will.” He was clearly unfazed by your sudden reservations, though seemed to realize the cause pretty quickly. “Raven doesn’t care. Where do you think Scott and Jean ended up? You didn’t even notice did you?”

You could hear the bit of amusement in his voice. But no, you didn’t count heads as you were walking by. Why would you? If Scott and Jean had made it into the same bunk already, it wasn’t your business.

Which, yes, admittedly if you felt that way, would the others be as okay with it for you and Peter? He’d rightly guessed that it was more the fear of being judged that made you hesitate, than actually being uncomfortable sleeping beside him. You’d already slept side by side in the helicopter on the way here after all, but that wasn’t quite the same as being in the same bed.

“Still waiting,” He reminded, squeezing your ankle lightly.

You knew if you actually said no, he would drop it. It was only your indecision that he was waiting for you to resolve. But, how often would you have this chance again? Thinking of it in those terms, you relented at last, climbing back down.

You could still see his smile in the dark, no doubt excited over the small victory as he scooted back as much as he could to allow you in.

Trying to get into a comfortable position was a little awkward at first, especially with his cast. But you eventually ended up both laying on your sides, your back against his chest as he wrapped an arm around you under your shared blanket.

You were quickly learning how much he seemed to be comforted by physical contact. It wasn’t long at all before his breathing steadied out and you realized he was fast asleep, his head nuzzled into the back of your neck.

The feeling was warm and pleasant though. Yourself following suit not long after, sleeping deeply at last for a long deserved rest.

——————————

When morning finally came, there was no real way to know it. There were no windows to let in the daylight. By the time you’d woken to hear the others’ voices and the fluorescent lighting buzzing back on when one of them hit the switch, you’d learned it was actually almost noon local time.

Which none of you were complaining about. But you were hungry now. Sleep had been the primary physical need beforehand, and with that now met, you needed some more calories to burn.

Peter especially. You could actually hear his stomach growling as you’d all gotten up and headed into the common bathroom to brush teeth, brush hair and the like with the standard toiletries they’d left in there for everyone.

“Yeah, I’m like a hummingbird basically,” He’d explained nonchalantly on your walk to the mess hall afterward. “I just haven’t fallen out yet here because I haven’t gotten to run since dickhead busted my leg. But normally yeah, high octane all the time to keep things going. My blood sugar tanks if I don’t keep snacking at least. Twinkies are a personal fave in the old survival kit.”

“Those are good,” Kurt agreed. “I like the little pies too,” He gestured a circle shape with his hands, “With the little...the dried purple fruit, what are those in English?”

“Raisins, my bro.” Peter responded. “Old raisin creme pie. I swap back and forth on those. Oatmeal pies are alright too, but you know where it’s really at is zebra cakes, man.”

“Zebra...cake?” Clearly Kurt was trying to envision in his head how a zebra would have anything to do with the naming of a cake.

“It’s got white icing with brown stripes,” You answered. You weren’t super into junk food, but you did grow up in the U.S., so a lot of this knowledge was entirely unavoidable.

“But zebras have black stripes?” Kurt replied with some bit of bemusement.

“I don’t think Little Debbie or Hostess are too concerned with accurate representations of wildlife.” Raven chimed in, halfway amused at the randomness of the topics you all came up with, but still looking quite unimpressed.

“They do have brown stripes when they’re juveniles, before they get their adult coat.” Hank corrected though, glancing down at her.

“So they should be called baby zebra cakes. Got it.” Scott finally piped up, though also clearly thinking this ridiculous.

Raven and Jean just exchanged a look of their own as Ororo glanced to you. “Is it always like this?”

“Pretty much,” You answered with a slight smile. It was good to see Peter meshing in so well with the others though, even if he was a little bit older. You hoped that whenever the school was rebuilt that he’d consider staying. Xavier always seemed to be able to make room for any young mutant willing to learn and also work as a mentor to the even younger kids.

You were all still chatting lightly as your group walked through the mess hall doors. But after being just the few of you for so many hours, it was a bit of a shock to see several tables worth of sailors look up at your sudden intrusion.

It was clear by the amount of still empty tables though, that this wasn’t near the normal occupancy rate. You remembered the Professor commenting that he thought a lot of the men had been forced to disembark to the mainland, just to make a larger bubble for you all.

And by all the expressions on the faces of those that were left, it seemed that most disagreed whole heartedly with that decision.

Your group quieted immediately, everyone picking up on those stares and the bit of whispering as you got in line together. The mess hall was set up cafeteria style, so you had to grab trays and slide them along, picking what you wanted as the kitchen staff would spoon out or serve whatever it was you’d chosen onto your tray.

“Maybe we should just take the food back to the barracks?” Kurt asked quietly, looking down with an evident bit of anxiety building.

“It’s okay,” Raven answered, “Just keep your head up. We won’t be long.”

You were conflicted though. You shouldn’t have to eat, segregated out of everyone else’s sight like some sort of criminals, just because your presence might offend someone. But then again, what purpose did it serve in the larger scheme of things if you antagonized these sailors into an avoidable confrontation right now?

As the Professor had said, tensions were already high. Throwing any spark into that powder keg couldn’t possibly end well.

Hank had volunteered to carry Peter’s tray for him, as Peter needed both hands to work his crutches. You were glad for that at least as you could only envision yourself dropping it all in spectacular fashion. Especially when Peter insisted on a triple portion of some kind of strawberry cake desert they’d had.

“I think we should go back to the bunks,” Jean spoke up though when you were all about to walk away from the line with your trays and drinks. “There’s one of them, he’s about to go off.”

You all paused, looking to Raven and Hank simultaneously, seemingly all deciding without speaking that they’d become the de facto leadership in the Professor’s absence.

“Fine,” Raven relented, obviously not wanting to roll over in this situation, but also remembering all you’d already been through recently. Just getting to eat in peace should be a reasonable thing to want.

But even turning the other cheek, didn’t seem to be enough.

“Hey!” One of the sailors called out before you could get close enough to the door.

“Keep walking.” Raven just directed.

“Do you even know what the rest of the world looks like right now!?” He kept on, standing up as his voice only grew louder. “My Mom and my little brother were in San Francisco. Their goddamn apartment building collapsed!”

Peter was the first one to stop, looking back then.

You could hear the tone in the man’s voice change though, and in that moment you knew he was not going to attack anyone. But it almost made it worse that he didn’t as his voice broke, nearly pleading to you all. “I don’t even know if they’re alive, if they made it out or not. The phones won’t work...no one can get through.”

“We didn’t do that,” Raven spoke up as calmly as she could, looking back to him as well then. “I’m sorry.”

“But you know who did, don’t you!?” He countered. “It was him. Wasn’t it? The one from Washington D.C. that could move metal. And he got away. You let him get away!”

The men next to the sailor were trying to pull him back down to sitting now, trying to remind him something about orders, making you realize they must have been given a similar talk as you all had. Don’t cause trouble, don’t antagonize, keep the peace because you’d been told to.

Even with two food trays in hand, Hank was now trying to usher you all through the mess hall doors just as intently as the man’s friends were trying to make him stop as well.

But Peter just twisted right out of Hank’s reach in a blur, calling back suddenly then. “It was Magneto. I’m sure it was. But he’s gone, man. He ran.” Peter looked pained, but shook his head. “His family was killed...but that doesn’t mean he had any right to take it out on the world. I hope you find your family. I really do, and I’m sorry.”

With that Peter shoved through the doors, going on ahead of you all and not looking back. His frustration was palpable as the crutches limited him. If his leg hadn’t been broken you doubted any of you would have seen him leave at all. Like he too wanted to run away now, instead of having to face the painful reality that this was.

——————————

Nothing was said about the incident for quite some time as you’d all eaten quietly in the barracks. The food was plain, the simple kinds of things that could be made in bulk to feed a large crew on a ship like this. Macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, rice, and the like.

You were sitting on the floor eating while Peter was sitting on his bottom bunk, now just picking at the strawberry cake he’d most wanted with a fork. “This was definitely some pre-made frozen crap they just defrosted and put whip cream on.” He commented in dry disappointment.

“Yeah, I guess it’d be hard to keep fresh strawberries for long on a boat,” You replied, sipping one of the soft drinks you’d brought back. At least these were canned to still be carbonated well, but it wasn’t all that cold anymore.

He smirked. “I’d go crazy living on this thing out at sea. Not too many steps up from a prison cell really.”

Though you could imagine submarine life would be even worse, you didn’t think he was far off base. “It takes a special kind of person to enlist that’s for sure.”

“Yeah,” Peter agreed, going back to silence for a while as he dissected the cake idly.

You’d about finished all your food before he spoke to you again.

“What do you really think of him, (Y/N)?” Peter asked you in a somber tone then. “I mean, am I an idiot for trying to get to know him? My whole life I thought about what it would have been like if we’d had a real dad. If it wasn’t just Mom stressed the hell out all the time trying to keep us from getting evicted, or me from getting arrested honestly, or her worrying about Wanda being depressed so much. It’s like we were always broken. I had this idea if we’d just had that missing piece of a father, that everything would have been fixed. But then I finally meet him, finally find out who he really is, and he’s just as fucked up as anyone.”

You moved your tray to the side, considering your words carefully as you got up to go sit beside Peter on the edge of the bed. “You’re not an idiot.” That was the easiest point to make first. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to know who your parents are.” But the rest, that was muddled and complicated.

“I mean, that was the first time I’ve actually ever met him in person. So I only know the stories really.” You continued. “I know the Professor thinks highly of him. They’ve always been close.”

“Xavier punched my dad right in the damn face the first time I saw them together.” Peter responded, turning his head to look at you directly. “Knocked him on his ass actually.”

You blinked. “Um, well...I have heard their relationship has had its rough patches too. They disagree on a lot of things as well. But they always seem to care about each other in the end, when it’s all said and done.”

Peter laid the last of the cake back down on the floor, before laying back down behind you in the bunk. “So you’re saying that’s what I have to look forward to? Alternating between wanting to kick his ass, and wanting him to stick around and have a relationship together?”

You could only be honest. “Not really what I was going for, but, I mean, that’s kind of Erik right?”

“But he’s killed people hasn’t he? How do I get past that?”

That was really the hardest question of all, wasn’t it? And now the one probably weighing on Peter’s mind the most after the interaction with that upset sailor in the mess hall.

“His sins aren’t your sins, Peter.” Was what you finally said, sighing and looking at your hands now in your lap. “Erik has lost so much too. His parents, your grandparents, I know they died at Auschwitz. The Professor told us that. And they experimented on Erik, tortured him to try and use his powers as a weapon. Erik ended up killing the man most responsible for that. But Xavier had tried to stop him anyway and ended up paralyzed for it. It was an accident though.”

You could feel Peter shift behind you, sitting up slightly in the bunk. It was most likely that he’d never heard any of this. You hated that it had to come secondhand from you. That you, this random mutant would know more about his own father’s history than himself.

But you continued. “And then what he told us in Egypt, about his wife and daughter....I mean, my God. Like you said, it doesn’t mean he can just go around hurting everyone else just because of what’s been done to him. But what would anyone else really do? How can we say where our own breaking points would be?” You weren’t trying to absolve him by any means, but how could you sit here and judge him either?

“Yeah,” Peter answered, sounding distant. “I mean, I tried not to think about it too much, everything was already so messed up. But I’ve got to tell Wanda all of this too at some point. And I don’t know how. We had a little sister, and she’s already gone. How do you...how do you even process that when you didn’t even get to meet them? How do you get closure?”

You heard him moving around like he was wiping at his face with his hands. You didn’t think he was crying, but maybe his eyes were trying to build up something that he wasn’t willing to allow yet.

“Can we just lay here for a bit?” He asked you after another moment.

“Sure,” You answered, laying back down in the bunk with him. This time you didn’t care if the others would pay any mind or not. He needed someone right now.

You were just laying the same way you’d slept last night with your back to his chest. But after a while you felt him tug at your side.

“Turn around,” He asked.

You did hesitate momentarily, knowing how much more personal that would be in the confines of the small bunk. But you allowed it, rolling over so that now you were nearly face to face, torsos touching as he wrapped his good leg over you before pulling up the blanket.

“Hey,” He smirked, seeming to cheer up at your awkward look. Your stomach flipped as you thought he was going in for a kiss, but he just ended up kissing your forehead once before pulling back.

Whatever expression you made then got a real laugh out of him.

“I was just going to tell you thank you.” He said teasingly, before leaning back in to whisper in your ear, “But you look kind of disappointed...did you want a little more?”

There was no question you were fully flustered now as you felt that heat rising in your face yet again. You’d have to make a mental note to apologize to Jean later if she was getting any of this broadcast to her. But then again, she did live in a house full of teenagers doing God knows what at any given time. Maybe she was already used to it. But you didn’t even want to think about Xavier possibly picking up on your current emotional panic either, that would be mortifying.

Sensing your spiraling distraction, Peter lightly touched one fingertip to the end of your nose. “Boop. Earth to (Y/N), have we lost signal? Overheated the engines already?”

You blinked. “That’s not funny.”

“Oh, it’s hilarious. And still waiting, dear. Always waiting...”

To be honest, when you finally kissed him, it was more just to wipe that smug look off his face. But on second thought, maybe that had been his plan all along. To taunt you into action. But it worked. It worked extremely well, as you’d both closed your eyes. His hand pressed into your back, making sure you stayed tight against him as you’d let it happen again and again. One kiss after another.

It’d been different too. The first ones back in Cairo had been so desperate more than anything, just a burst of emotion like a dying wish when neither of you had really expected to make it out of that desert.

While this now was far slower, much more thought behind each. It did make you forget everything else for those moments except the taste and feel of him.

But as much as you liked the sensations, you also knew you had to be the one to steer you both back out of it. When you felt his hand starting to move under your shirt, sliding up greedily across your bare skin, you realized he was already wanting more. And this wasn’t the place, not the time. Not yet at least. You weren’t immune to those feelings either, but it’d be much better if you waited. As much as you knew he hated waiting...

You’d pulled your lips away, but he then only moved to kissing your neck instead as you had to speak his name to try and call him back out of it. “Peter.”

“Mmm?” He responded after a moment, at least pausing, even though his lips were still touching against your throat.

You tugged his hair a little to try and get him to look back up at you.

He resisted slightly, not a lot, but you knew he was stalling as best he could before he finally relented. “Stop sign comes out huh?” He breathed, though not upset, just clearly having trouble coming out of the mood as his hand slid back out of your shirt to rest only on top of your clothes.

“Not exactly enough privacy here,” you responded quietly. Which was of course a huge understatement as the others were probably just out of earshot right now. If you were lucky anyway.

“It’s a big ship, babe. I’m sure we can find a place,” He joked, but only partially you were sure. As you really thought if you said the word right now, he’d make it his mission to find such a place immediately.

You toyed with his hair a little more, moving the messy silver strands out away from his eyes. “I think it’s getting to be pretty inevitable if you really want to know the truth.”

He leaned into the touch, just kissing your hand once more as your palm neared too close to his mouth. “You make it really tough either way, I’ll say that.”

You knew better than to lecture this one on the virtue of patience. But this was already the most physical you’d ever been with anyone as it was, and all so soon. Yet you knew it was only a matter of time. These new feelings were only growing. None of this would be fading any time soon.

You just laid your head back on his shoulder after a while, speaking to him, “Hey, after we’ve cooled down a bit more here, you want to see if anyone will allow us on the flight deck? It’d be nice to see the ocean at least before the sun goes back down. Get some fresh air.”

“Romantic stroll in the ocean breeze you say? Well maybe more a romantic hobble for me.” He chuckled dryly. “I’m game.”

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

[onlydylanobrien]

Dylan O'Brien - NME Magazine Interview

Dylan O’Brien: “I was in this transitional phase – close to a quarter-life crisis”

From YA heartthrob to legitimate leading man – how the 'Maze Runner' star hit his stride after a whirlwind decade

Definitely!” hoots Dylan O’Brien when NME asks if he still has to audition. “I’m not Tom fucking Hanks, bro.” He’s clearly amused by our question, but forgive us for thinking the 29-year-old actor gets cast on reputation alone. A decade into his career, and he’s making an impressive transition from teen TV star and YA franchise hero to charismatic leading man.

New York-born O’Brien cut his teeth on MTV’s hit Teen Wolf series, before landing the lead in the Maze Runner film trilogy based on James Dashner’s hugely popular novels. Leading a band of bright young things that included ex-Skins tearaway Kaya Scodelario, Game Of Thrones’ Thomas Brodie-Sangster and Will Poulter, he honed his craft while racking up nearly a billion dollars at the box office. “My career is a constant acting class,” says O’Brien. “To be able to do the Maze Runner movies simultaneously with Teen Wolf was amazing in terms of getting in reps and working my [acting] muscle.”

Now for the sometimes tricky bit. Many actors struggle with the post-breakout period, but O’Brien is making it look easy so far. This year’s Netflix hit Love and Monsters proved he can carry an old-school family adventure, and new film Flashback (out next week) reveals an appetite for weirder, more cerebral work. He stars as Fred Fitzell, a young man reluctant to buckle down to life as a nine-to-fiver with a boring corporate job and a long-term girlfriend (Mindhunter‘s Hannah Gross). When he runs into a freaky-looking acquaintance from his teenage years, Fred becomes obsessed with finding an old high-school friend he used to drop a mind-bending experimental drug called Mercury with. It’s difficult to say any more without entering spoiler territory, but Flashback is a wild ride underpinned by the idea that we can exist in several realities at once. Even if you follow every plot twist, you might not fully understand the end. “Oh, it’s definitely a headfuck,” O’Brien agrees. “There’s not totally an answer to figure out. There’s a lot of different things that people can take from it.”

Speaking over Zoom from his LA home, O’Brien is bright, thoughtful and really good fun to talk to, especially when he relaxes into the interview, but he clearly knows where his line between public and private lies. When he first read the Flashback script, written by the film’s director Christopher MacBride, his “mind was blown” by just how much he related to Fred. “I felt like I was in this transitional phase of my life that was, you know, sort of close to a quarter-life crisis type thing,” he says. “For whatever reason, it was like me and this script were meant to be. I remember reading it and thinking: ‘I am this guy right now.'”

“There were a lot of things in my personal life that were neglected for a while”

When we ask why O’Brien felt as though he had reached a “transitional phase”, he gives an answer that’s vague but not exactly evasive. For understandable reasons, he doesn’t mention the incredibly traumatic motorcycle accident he sustained while shooting the final Maze Runner film in March 2016. O’Brien suffered severe trauma to the brain and said in 2017 that he underwent extensive facial reconstructive surgery after the accident “broke most of the right side of my face”. Tellingly, he’s never really revealed what happened on set or how it affected him.

Today, O’Brien dances around the details of the accident and other issues he was dealing with at the time, but doesn’t shy away from discussing his inner conflict. “You know, it was a lot of personal things combined with at-a-point-in-my-career things,” he says after a brief pause. He says he’d have been going through some of this stuff anyway, simply because of his age, but it sounds as though success intensified it all. “It was like this whole fucking storm of shit,” he continues. “I was simultaneously so fulfilled and happy about these, like, otherworldly and surreal things that I had experienced in terms of where my career had brought me. I had all this confidence and fulfilment and beautiful people [in my life] – such amazing things to experience at a young age. But at the same time, there were a lot of things in my personal life that were unchecked and sort of neglected for a while.”

O’Brien says that in time, he realised he had to “stop for a second” and “re-explore how I wanted my life to look going forward”. In fairness, you can see why he needed a breather: his career took off while he was still a teenager. After his family moved from New Jersey to Los Angeles County when he was 12, O’Brien contemplated a career as a sports broadcaster – his Twitter bio still bills him as a “no longer suffering Mets fan” – then began posting YouTube videos as moviekidd826. A funny, slickly edited skit titled ‘How to Prepare for the SAT in 45 seconds’, shared when he was just 17, shows he was a born performer and storyteller. YouTube success led to him getting a manager, but his breakthrough role in Teen Wolf still came out of the blue. At the time, he was treading water at a local community college and taking auditions on the side.

Still, he has since taken a rather fatalistic view of this career-making moment. “It’s totally weird because, when I think about it now, I don’t see how it could have happened any other way. I can’t picture myself doing anything else now,” he told Collider in 2011. “It was really sudden and a little random, and not provoked by anything. It was just out of nowhere. It wasn’t my intentional doing.” Today, O’Brien summarises his skyscraper career trajectory succinctly. “I guess I just graduated high school and started acting,” he says. “And then I felt like I was just flying by the seat of my pants and never got a chance to stop.” Thankfully, straight-out-the-blocks Hollywood success hasn’t taken away his sense of perspective. When I say how easy social media makes it to compare yourself unfavourably to others, O’Brien jumps in: “Yeah, that’s very true. I was watching the Billie Eilish doc the other day, and I was like, I’ve done nothing. I’m not an artist at all!”

“No one thought ‘Love and Monsters’ was going to be good!”

O’Brien is also self-deprecating when he talks about being cast in Flashback, suggesting it happened because he had such an intense connection with Fred. “I was honestly like, ‘Who is watching me right now?’ That is the best way I can describe how I was feeling when I came across this script,” he says. “Chris [MacBride, director] and I had this conversation that went so well in terms of [my] understanding this script that I think he’d sent around a lot and [that] very commonly wasn’t understood. I think Chris has even said that the night before shooting, he suddenly had this thought, like, ‘Wait, do I even think he’s a good actor?'”

Though O’Brien has firmly ring-fenced elements of his private life, he’s actually pretty frank about his acting vehicles. He readily admits he was expecting a snobbish response to Love and Monsters, a CGI-heavy hybrid of post-apocalyptic action and romcom that dropped on Netflix in April and topped the streamer’s daily most-watched list. “It means so much that Love and Monsters has gotten the response that it’s gotten,” O’Brien says. “No one thought this movie was going to be good.” His blunt honesty makes me laugh out loud. “No one did though!” he says in response. “And so, fuck that. You know, most of the people who say something to me about the movie, they’re like: ‘I watched Love and Monsters, and it was… good?’ And honestly, that just cracks me up.” For obvious reasons, we hastily decide not to share our response to the film – namely, that it was a whole lot better than expected.

In Love and Monsters, O’Brien plays Joel, a survivor of a so-called “monsterpocalypse” that has bumped humans to the bottom of the food chain. Though he’s known in his colony as a bit of a coward, Joel sets off on a treacherous 80-mile journey to find his high school sweetheart Aimee (Iron Fist‘s Jessica Henwick), which means evading the hungry clutches of various supersize grizzlies including a giant monster-frog hiding in a suburban pond. It’s a simple but pretty out-there premise that wouldn’t work if O’Brien’s performance was even slightly condescending. Instead, his unselfconscious sincerity really sells a film that has as much in common with the family-oriented Robin Williams movie Night at the Museum as darker fare like The Walking Dead.

His obvious affection for the project really comes across during our interview today. “When I read the script, I just thought it was so sweet and funny and smart and unique, but at the same time reminiscent of all these movies that don’t really get made any more,” he says. That’s a fair point: Love and Monsters is neither a fail-safe superhero movie nor a slice of classy Oscar bait. “And when they were talking about how to market this movie, it was so funny hearing all these conversations like, ‘How do we actually get people to watch it?'” he adds. “But that’s a big part of the reason I wanted to do this movie: because it felt like something I missed seeing.”

“I’m lucky to be surrounded by people who want to make something out of love”

So in a way, Love and Monsters was a risk for an actor seeking to establish himself outside of a bankable movie franchise and a hit TV show. O’Brien has only made four films since his final Maze Runner outing in 2018, and insists he hasn’t been tactical with his choices. “I don’t have anyone saying, ‘We need to get you in an Oscar vehicle’, or any of that kind of shit,” he says. “I’m really lucky to be surrounded by people who think like me: that you should do what you’re drawn to, and make something out of love.”

He’s recently finished shooting a mysterious crime thriller called The Outfit in London with Mark Rylance. Directed and co-written by Graham Moore, who won an Oscar for his screenplay to Alan Turing biopic The Imitation Game, O’Brien calls it “quite possibly one of the most special pieces of writing I’ve ever experienced”. He first read the script on a plane and says he “actually stood up and clapped” when he got to the end. Considering O’Brien probably wasn’t flying Ryanair, this reaction presumably attracted a few baffled glances.

Anyway, it must be pretty intimidating walking onto set with Rylance, a multi-award-winning actor revered by his peers – Al Pacino once said he “speaks Shakespeare as if it was written for him the night before” – but it sounds as though O’Brien took it all in stride. He says he’s confident in his abilities, but admits to having a slight wobble whenever he begins a new project. “I’m always sort of re-questioning everything – like, ‘Can I even act?'” he says. “But I think there’s something very natural about that. I think even Rylance could relate to that feeling. Acting is like starting a new year at school every single time.”

At this point in his career, O’Brien has made peace with the fact that some people will have preconceptions about him based on what he’s known for: Maze Runner and Teen Wolf. “People will put you in a box no matter what,” he says. “There was definitely a time when that would get to me, especially when it felt like somebody had a perspective on me that in my soul, I just felt wasn’t accurate.” Still, there’s no doubt he wants to show us what’s really in his soul with more films like Flashback. “If anything,” he adds bullishly, “it just makes me think: ‘Right, I’m really gonna show them now’.”

‘Flashback’ is out on digital platforms from June 4

[honney-pies]

Ma Cherie will be posted September 15th

omg hey guys, so this week was like the worst thing ever, but it's fine. I'm currently at war with this high schooler since he decided to run a red light directly into the side of my car <3

anyway, because of this i haven't been able to apply that much time on writing. luckily i should be done this friday and it going to be a relatively long chapter. right now i'm about a quarter of the way done and i've written 6.8k which is a lot more than anything i've previously done, but because of this i am posting a teaser for the chapter underneath this! i hope you enjoy, muah!!!!

OH - side note - i also spent time rewriting parts of 'birthday girl' to help it make a little more sense!!!

teaser of chapter three: what once was

pairing: inuokku/f! oc

length: 1.02k

When the exchange event came to its conclusion, Kanae hadn’t been as amazing as she had hoped. She didn’t make it to the final round of the one-on-one fights, and she made many mistakes in the group battle. She wished she could have done more, fought more.

She got too ahead of herself and nearly passed out from blood loss. Yuuta had to carry her around for that last part of the group battle, which she was still incredibly embarrassed about. However he assured her many times he didn’t mind it. She had gotten an earful from Yaga and Satoru, Maki had smacked her in the back of the head, Shoko had looked at her endlessly, but kept her thoughts to herself (not before staring at her in a way that made her feel even more embarrassed than she already was), and somehow Nanami even found out and sent her a wall of text telling her not to act that recklessly again. Inumaki had signed so fast she could barely keep up, and she felt awful for making him worry that much. He had sat next to her until Shoko allowed her to leave.

“Try not to pull a stunt like that again, Kanae. Too much paperwork.” Kanae smiled softly, knowing that she was trying to show her concern without outrightly stating it.

“I’ll try not to, Sho-nee.” Shoko nodded and shooed her away the second she got a text from Utahime.

When they went outside, Kanae felt her phone buzz in her pocket

‘Incoming call from edgelord supreme’

“Oh, ‘gumi wh-”

“What did you do?” Kanae paused for a moment. What did I do?

“... huh?” she heard a long sigh on the other end

“Gojo sent me a text saying you wouldn’t be able to get me from school and you’re practically never late.”

“Aw, were you worried about me?” She smiled.

“Nee-san.” She laughed at the huff he let out.

“Ah, um, well I needed to see Shoko. During the event, I pushed myself pretty hard and so I had to stay in the office for a while. But I’m better now!” She looked at Inumaki who showed her the time.

“It’s pretty late, did you just get home?”

“...No.” Kanae let out a sigh.

“Were you bullying kids again?”

“It’s not bullying if they start it, plus you’re the one who told me that bullying works.” She rolled her eyes.

“I said that ‘cause you’d pour ranch, ranch, all over your fries and then wipe your fingers on your shirt. It was gross, and now you don’t use your shirt as a napkin.” Inumaki was laughing quietly next to her as the two continued walking to their respective dorms.

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine, ‘gumi. Nothing I haven’t done before. You had a test today right? How was it?”

“It was fine, I guess. Boring.” She looked around and noticed that Noritoshi was waiting for her on a bench just outside the dorms.

“Hey, ‘gumi, I gotta go, but I’ll call you back later okay?” He stopped his tangent about this one girl who wouldn’t stop trying to cheat and said okay.

“Can you facetime so I can see the ‘hottie’ you were talking about earlier?”

“Which one?”

“Black hair guy.”

“Oh, Okkotsu. No, he’s in the infirmary right now, but we’ll call you back okay? We’ll introduce you to him soon.”

“Hi, Inumaki-san. Bye, Inumaki-san.” Kanae chuckled before hanging up.

“Toge, you head back first. I’ll be there in a sec.” He nodded, but not before giving her hand a squeeze. Kanae made her way over to her brother and sat down next to him.

“What you did today was reckless.” She groaned.

“Not you too.” He looked over at her, the tiniest traces of a smile on his lips.

“Yes, me too.”

“It’s nothing either of us haven’t done before. I don’t know why everyone is acting as if there won’t be days where I’ll be put in a worse situation.” He sighed and looked at her.

“We all know that being a shaman comes with its occupational hazards, but that doesn’t change how -how idiotic you were acting. You were actively drawing blood out of your body and trying to control it with no medium to ease that burden. That’s dangerous! I know that we all will have to put our lives on the line a million times over for this lifestyle, but that doesn’t mean one should seek out death. There is a difference between risking death to win and being willing to die.” She peeked over at him and saw the furrowed brows, his worry lines creased.

“You sound like my dad.”

“Well Gojo-san is right.” She looks at him with wide eyes before bursting at the seems and letting out a loud laugh.

“I wasn’t talking about Toru, to be specific, I meant in general.” He glanced towards her and frowned.

“He adopted you, did he not?”

“He did.” He nodded his head before looking back over.

“Is he- is he nice?” Kanae looked at him before smiling.

“He’s the best dad I could’ve asked for.” Noritoshi looked down at the ground, a smile fully formed on his lips.

“That’s good.” She glanced at him a couple times before she began to fidget, picking at her nail beds.

“I… I’m sorry for making you worry. I’ll be more careful in the future.” She moved her body to face his. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around him. He froze for a second before wrapping his arms around her.

“I’m sorry for not being there for you and not being a good brother, Kanae.” She felt her emotions bubble their way to the surface.

“I forgive you. It’s not like I was the best sister either. Thank you for being here for me now.” They sat like that for a while, not moving.

That night they opened their hearts for one another, letting each other in. In the future they would slowly grow a bond and finally become the siblings they have longed to be for one another. But that’s the future. Tonight was the first step into becoming a family, towards healing.

[sunnysviolin]

High school Sunny enthusiast here! Would you mind sharing a couple more headcanons about it? I’m so glad you’ll be able to teach again this fall, you totally deserve to develop your passion at full potential 👏🏻

Am I showing up after forever of being gone? Yeahhhhh Sorry y’all got the brain sads lol but!! I’m back w one of my favorite little universes! I actually had a meeting for our teacher prep program on Thursday which is so exciting!! We’re being assigned our working teachers sometime this month which is insane to me.....Anyway today I’m gonna clean and write!! Take some headcanons nonnie you helped to make me feel inspired again!

This ended up being more Sunny and his Mom than Sunny and high school, but it gets there!! So Sunny’s mom used to make him and Mari bag lunches almost every day. The only day she didn’t was on Fridays, because those were pizza days, and she knew pizza was Sunny’s favorite

She made their lunches the night before and they sat on the back right corner of the fridge. She liked to keep it pretty standard- usually a sandwich (or leftovers from their dinner), a snack, a piece of fruit, and some sort of dessert. Sunny used to sit at the kitchen counter and watch her make their lunches right before he went to bed. 

It was one of the special things that was him and his mom. He got to choose what they had for a snack, what piece of fruit the two of them had, even what went in their sandwiches. He was the one that chose Caprisun or water bottle. He got to help his mom write a little note for Mari to read on a sticky note when she ate her food the next day at school. 

It started as a practical thing (Sunny was such a picky eater, it was best that he decided what they ate so he would actually eat his food) but then it was just their tradition

Sunny was never talkative per say, but during this routine of theirs Sunny’s mom could ask him about his day or his friends, and Sunny would do more than nod or shake his head.

After Mari died, after her husband left, they didn’t need bag lunches anymore. Sunny didn’t go to school, and Mari couldn’t. Sunny wouldn’t speak, not even his infuriatingly endearing head nods and shakes. He just slept. All day long. 

But after they move, after those last three days where she left him alone, something changes. At first his mother is furious with herself. She left him alone and he ended up in the hospital, how could she do that? How could she do that to her last living baby? But Sunny is changed, and not in the bad way. He’s getting up, he’s going out, he’s even seeing his friends.

She had been treating him like her baby again. She had thought that’s what he needed. He needed someone to cuddle him close and tell him he was loved. He had needed someone to make excuses, to let him sleep and process. He had needed to be in the house where he was safe and not out in the world where he could get hurt. He needed his mommy

But....maybe that had been what she needed. 

Admitting you got it wrong as a parent is not easy. It gets swallowed down like medicine and lemon rinds. It bubbles in the stomach and leaves you nauseous and unsettled. But seeing her son growing in front of her, seeing the shell she had left him in beginning to crumble shows her that yes. She did get it wrong. She had let them both stagnate.

When he tells her he wants to go back to school, she cries. She cries a lot. He is clearly very uncomfortable, but Sunny’s mother holds him tightly and cries. She calls the local high school that day and tries to explain their situation. Sunny had been doing some online classes over the last four years, but his grades were abysmal, and his mother is pretty sure he hadn’t learned a thing. 

The school agrees to take on Sunny, but they put him in a grade below his own. He will graduate a year late, but he will for sure graduate. That they promise her. His last school just let him fall by the wayside. This school is already planning out special practices just for him. Sunny’s mother settles the fear in her. Her boy will be looked after this time. 

They are worried about his socialization and ask if there’s any hobbies he has. She can only think of blank stares and sleeping, but she tries to remember the quiet sweet boy her son used to be. She remembers endless sketchbooks and colored pencils, and the oh so perfect melody of her children together. On a whim she enrolls him in Orchestra and Art with assurances that if he doesn’t like them he can switch them out.

The night before his first day of school, she walks into the kitchen and beckons him to follow her. They don’t have a bar counter space for him to sit at anymore, but Sunny hops up next to the fridge. Normally she would scold him for doing this, but she just asks what kind of fruit he wants. 

He tells her peaches, and she carefully carves them into perfect slices the way her mother used to do for her. She and Sunny begin their traditions once more. 

Sunny goes back to school and it is not easy. She doesn’t make it easy. Not on him, not on his teachers, and not on the administration. She calls at least three times a week, telling them that it’s too much. They tell her to back off, to let him stumble. It’s terrifying to do that. It’s worse than any fear to let her child fall and hurt himself. But she does. She does because she’s seen the changes since she left him alone those days in the beginning of the summer. 

One full semester is what the administration asks of her. Just two quarters for him to find his footing without her influence. They will reconvene over winter break to make adjustments, but she needs to let him fail if that’s what’s going to happen. He needs a mother, not a mommy. They don’t know the knife they’ve twisted when they say those words, but that knife is exactly what she needed. She agrees.

Sunny struggles to adjust but he does. His failed tests and missed classes slowly disappear one by one. He brings home a practice violin she did not buy from him, and he plays when he thinks she’s asleep. It’s quiet and unsure, but the music is there. 

He invites her to his concert. She does not hug him and cry again, even though she wants to. He isn’t a baby, he doesn’t need her to fawn over him. She agrees to come, and secretly begins to covert with Kel’s mother. 

She waits outside Sunny’s school for them all to arrive. Hero has come home from college for a long weekend for this. She greets each of them with a firm hug, something she hasn’t done in years. Even Basil, although he seems slightly terrified of her. They sit together in the audience and watch Sunny perform. 

She cries as she watches him. She doesn’t recognize this boy. This is not her baby, not the same child she loved and then lost alongside his sister. He’s changed, someone new is on that stage performing, someone for her to discover and love. 

She had been so afraid of this, so scared for that change, so sure it would only end in another dead child. Now there’s a teenager, not a child in front of her. He’s not so tall and not so strong, but he is alive and real right in front of her, and she is growing. 

She can finally start to let herself be his mother. 

[pillage-and-lute]

In All that I Have Done

Sad. I recommend listening to Arvo P ärt’s Spiegel im Spiegel while reading. Very, very sad, cannot stress this enough. Non-explicit major character death. (Happens of old age but still)

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More than forty years after the fall of Cintra one Professor Pankratz put down his pen. In the last ten years his hands had lost some of their surety, but his quill didn’t shake when he put it down. 

He ran one hand down his face. His beard had started going silver just after he’d adopted the style, but both it and his hair were now fully steel grey, with not even a hint of their former color. He adjusted his spectacles, tweaked the fashionable, but less than flamboyant hem of his doublet, and began to read what he’d written.

The last will and testament of Professor Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove. 

I am writing this, sure and sound of mind, if not of body, in the event of my death. For many years I had a living, de facto will, that is, who ever found me dead by the roadside could loot my body for what they wished. As I got older and my body forced my errant heart to settle down I realized that this could no longer be the case. I fear I have put this off much too long, but happily, it seems I was not too late.

To my remaining family, my baby brother Alfons and his wife Iwona, I leave the rights to my songs and other works, and the royalties to them. Have fun. Alfons, Iwona is a beautiful woman and I would have wooed her, but that you were so in love I couldn’t bring myself to steal her away. I write this with a chuckle, Iwona my dear, because if you’ll remember we met first, and I introduced you to my brother only after you’d hit me in the head with a frying pan for flirting. 

I have also set up a trust, a portion of the royalties will be funneled into it for your son, Mikolaj, although he is a strapping young man who may never need it because he is a fine craftsman, as these spectacles he made me can attest. With luck he may spend it on marriage, should he ever woo that baker lad who made those charming blackberry tarts.

To the grandson of my friend Priscilla, Gaj. You have just been born and are a wonder beyond belief. Your parents are lovely people and you are lucky to have them. They should feel lucky to read this since I fear I shall be long dead before you learn your letters. However; there are times I wish I had fathered children. There are also times I remember what those who do go through and am thankful I did not, but you are a miracle. In the hope that you are given the very best of education, I have put in a word with the university. Should you choose, you will have the best schooling the Continent can offer, free of charge, with the compliments of Oxenfurt. Just, when you are someday a raging young student, sloppy drunk on a night out, think of me, if you can think at all. 

As I have of late stayed in quarters provided for me by the university and their gracious staff, I shall relinquish it all in return, as well as whatever items are held within not listed here. There shall be money in the vase by the fireplace for my funeral, as well as a generous tip for the maids, who have been wonderful and kind to an often forgetful and frail old man who is too much in his feelings.

My wardrobe I leave to whoever wants it, apart from my best blue doublet. (The sky blue one, which brings out my eyes) I should hope to be buried in it.

And finally, to my dearest and truest friend, Geralt of Rivia I leave a note, a song, and a gift.

Jaskier once again scrubbed his hand over his face. His study held a chill, despite the fine summer day, or perhaps it was just him. He got cold so easily these days. His breath rattled a little as he took a deep breath and hauled himself out of his comfortable chair. Melitele’s great gorgeous thighs, but his knees ached today. Jaskier paused at the mirror to tease his hair into place, advancing years never having divested him of his style. He flashed a wink into the mirror and shoveled a little coal into the small fireplace. 

He settled again at his desk, a different paper in hand, separate from the will, and began to look it over. This letter held none of the fine penmanship of the other, instead the letters were blocky and easy to read, better for the eyes that may have gained much in a mutation but skipped lightly over letters and switched them about.

My dear Geralt, it read. In all that I have done, I have had but one masterpiece. Critics may disagree on my greatest work, but I know it exactly, and have since the day of it’s birth. My opus was not Toss a Coin, or even the rehabilitation of yours- and all witchers- reputations. My masterpiece was my relationship with you, a wonderful and awful secret masterpiece of the heart, mind, and soul.

I know you do not dally about with words, but lest you misunderstand this last, most important of missives, we must discuss them. The word awful is now so said as to mean the same as terrible, but this cannot be true at all. Terrible is that which inspires terror or creates fear. Awful, or aweful, if you will, is to inspire awe. To be full of it. Sometimes that awe is fearful, sometimes reverential, perhaps a condemnation and sometimes a blessing. You, my friend, inspire awe. And in me you inspired something much greater than that. In all my years, which are so few compared to yours, nothing has so inspired love in me, as you. It has been my life’s greatest blessing.

When this letter comes to you, regardless of how it comes, it means I am gone from this world. I fear it shall indeed be soon, but I do not fear death. Weep not for me, my friend, instead let me bury in this parchment what there is left for me to say.

More than forty years ago I asked you to come away with me. All these decades later I still dream that you would, yet, I understand why you did not, and why you pushed me away. I offered you my heart that day, but it was the heart of a being you would watch wither away, as I’ll admit I have done. You could not be my forever, knowing that I cannot also be yours. There is no apology, no tears, no explanation needed there. 

Indeed, even for casting me away I need no words, and you have always had few to give, my friend. You didn’t keep me away for long, after all. I am like a magnet, drawn to you. Even now I feel your pull, like the tide to the gentle lady moon, but I cannot follow. 

After the mountain we met up again and again, our lives orbiting eachvother like planets, but we never clung so close as those first twenty years. That is the fault of Dame Time, a tricky mistress, as she collected her dues for twenty years of hard travel and ill care on my body.

I wish I could have given you more of my years. I find I am angry, and yet not so. At once, I could have had more time beside you, had somehow things been otherwise, but I know I had more time with you than might have been, perhaps more than I could reasonably expect. Someone, some goddess, or Life, Time, Destiny, or Fate, gave me enough time to finish the masterpiece that is my love for you, and that is enough.

You read here the ramblings of an old man, but I shall burden you with a few more sentences. 

You may recognize the case to which this letter is attached. Inside is my lute, as given to me by Filavandrel. I wish you to have it. I know you have never been musically inclined, but to me this instrument means so much more than music. This is the physical being of us, and all that may entail. I hope that you keep it, and treasure it how you will. If ever there comes such a person that you wish to play it, for whatever reason, gift it to them, but I beg you, tell them to whom it belonged, and how it came to belong to you. 

And finally, I leave you with a few unsung verses that I feel someone ought to read.

To the edge of the world May this letter be born That it comfort and heals you Although it brings you to mourn

I wrote every song And traveled along For my faith in a witcher and my friend before all

I hope you be blessed and continue your quest To be a friend of humanity As I go to rest

That's our epic tale My champion prevailed Defeated every villain And continues the tale

Toss a coin to my witcher, O valley of plenty...

love, Jaskier.

Professor Pankratz carefully rolled up the parchment and slipped inside a waterproofed tube, tying it with a blue ribbon that would likely only be lost in the parcel’s travels. He did it anyway, then he trailed his fingers over the finest instrument he’d ever played. Hand tremors meant it had sat silent for many months, but he plucked a few, slightly out of tune strings in a familiar tune. Then he put Filavandrel’s lute away, slipping the note in it’s packaging into the outer pocket of the case.

There was a funny feeling, he felt as he sat back in his large desk chair, to completing your greatest work, but he knew at least one being would remember it forever. He took off his spectacles and leaned back in his chair, the fire in the grate convincing him to doze. His eyes slid shut, and Jaskier greeted eternity with open arms.