#I just mathed out how much I spend on soda a month - while still being chronically dehydrated because I Do Not Drink Enough - and. yikes.

[ghostsinthecellar]

I need to drink more water

[pascalpanic]

Here for the sentence starters!! "I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater" and "I’m so in love with her/him, I don’t know what do do." Feel free to do both or either or whatever you prefer with either of the Marcuses! I'm in such a fluffy mood rn and these will make my day :)) (PS I adore you and I hope you have a good day xx)

Making Moves (Marcus Moreno x f!Reader)

Summary: Your neighborhood superhero, Marcus Moreno, is being nagged by his daughter to find love. Lucky for him, just the right woman moves in down the street.

W/C: 2.7k

Warnings: language, brief talks of death (just to refer to Marcus’s wife who passed away), brief mentions of sexual stuff. it’s tame.

A/N: THIS WAS SO FUN. I love some good Marcus Moreno. He’s such a cutie and these prompts made it so fun! You can still send me prompts from this list with a character, just mind the taken ones! p.s. my emotional support Brit @maxlordsgf see how I used patio/backyard??

The Moreno household was cozy. You wondered if it was Marcus who’d decorated the beautiful home, or if his late wife. You supposed it didn’t matter. You would’ve liked the former Mrs. Moreno, if Marcus could love her like he did. 

He lived a few houses down from you. You’d moved in a couple of months ago, into the nice Craftsman style home you currently rented. The best thing about the house was the beautiful front porch, which exposed the lovely suburban neighborhood. The porch had come with a swing, and you’d decided that it’d have to be your new morning coffee spot. After all, this is California, where the sun was plentiful and the air was just cold enough to be refreshing in the mornings.

The time that you drank your coffee on the porch also happened to be the time that your neighborhood Heroic, Marcus, went for his morning runs. He’d been excited to see that the house was sold, and Missy was too. They planned on bringing over some sweets once you were settled. Several weeks after the sold sign went up, he saw you for the first time. 

You looked like an angel, he thought. You wore a fuzzy robe with patterned capri pajama pants peeking from beneath it. Your glasses rested on the bridge of your nose, slightly fogged from the steam of your coffee. You sat on your porch swing, knees pulled to your chest, reading from your tablet. He was immediately caught off-guard. Your new home was at the beginning of his running path, but his breath was already gone from his lungs from your beauty. 

Pushing his own glasses up his nose, he gave you a little wave as you looked up. You’d smiled at him, a grin with your teeth visible. The man was handsome, you’d noticed. Dark hair, a little scruff, eyes that scrunched when he smiled at you. He was fit, too, his muscles evident beneath his tight t-shirt and running shorts. He kept running, unsure what he could say to you. 

Marcus returned home some thirty minutes later to find Missy awake. “Hey, the new neighbor moved in,” he told her as he walked to the counter, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Ooh, tell me all about them.”

“Well, we didn’t talk. I still don’t know if it’s a family or anything,” he admitted. “But there was a woman sitting on the porch.”

Missy’s eyes lit up. “How old?”

Marcus shook his head. “I don’t know, muñeca,” he told her and kissed her head as he walked past her to sit at the table. 

“Old enough to date?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and stuffing her mouth full of cereal. “Did she seem single?”

“Stay out of it,” he teased her and poked her forehead, right between the eyes. 

She flinched back a bit but laughed. “Dad, come on.”

He shook his head. “We can bring over a housewarming gift tonight, huh? Then we can see.” -

Well, it turned out that night was too busy to do so for the Morenos.

You saw him the next morning as he ran past again. You wore different pajamas but sat in the same position. You’d waved back.

That’s how the next couple mornings went for the two of you. Every day, Marcus could swear you looked prettier. With you looking like that in your pajamas, he couldn’t imagine how beautiful you’d be at any other time. 

Finally, Friday night, he and Missy put on some music and got to baking.

“What does she look like?” Missy asked curiously as she cracked an egg into the bowl- she’d learned the hard way that her father was not to be trusted with egg duty.

Marcus described you to his daughter, his eyes far off and a small smile on his face. “She’s very pretty.”

“Well, duh. You’re simping over her, of course she is.”

“What’s a simp?” He’d asked, brow furrowing.

-

The knock came an hour or two later. You’d gotten home from work an hour or so earlier, so you were in relaxed clothing, the remnants of your makeup on your face. 

Behind the door stood the handsome runner you saw every morning, and a miniature, carbon-copied version of him with longer hair and more feminine features. “Hi! We’re the Morenos. We live in the blue house down the street. I’m Missy, and this is my dad, Marcus,” she introduced herself cheerfully. She held a tray of brownies. He held a bouquet.

“We just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood,” the man- Marcus- says with a warm smile on his face.

“Oh, thank you!” You grinned and took the tray Missy held out. “Well, come in, please,” you invite them. “Do you drink, Marcus? I was just having some wine. Oh, and Missy, I have some soda if you’d like that.”

The three of you sat in your half-constructed living room for a while and chatted. You learned about the former Mrs. Moreno and how she’d passed a few years ago. You shared that you were living alone and single, due to a bad breakup that led you to move here. The two were good company, you learned quickly, bantering back and forth more like siblings than a father and daughter.

As they stood up to leave, you apologized for the mess. “Sorry. I’ve been trying to hook up my TV lately, and I haven’t done anything else yet. I want to get the TV up first, but I’m practically useless with electronic stuff,” you admitted with a chuckle.

“Oh, Dad is great with electronics,” Missy told you with a grin.

“Not great. Competent would be a better word,” he chuckled. “I could help you set it up, if you’d like that.”

“I would, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all. Here, we can exchange numbers, you can text me when you’d like me to come over,” he offered and pulled out his phone.

“Sure,” you said and told him your number, which he enters into his phone and sends you a text. “Perfect,” you nodded and saved his phone number. “I’ll see you two soon, hopefully.”

They said goodbye and you heard Missy giggling as the door shut behind him. It’s muffled, but you thought you can hear Missy anyway: “That was smooth, Dad!”

-

That was months ago now. You’d developed a relationship with the both of them, visiting each others’ houses often for dinner or just to chat. 

When summer rolled around, Missy invited you over for days at their pool. You two had enjoyed yourselves, Marcus playing the role of your butler for the day, serving you mocktails and teasing his daughter. It became a common occurrence during the summer. You even had a reverse day on Marcus’s birthday (July 12th) where Missy served the two of you. It was almost like a date. That was the day you both realized you’d fallen hard for the other.

As much as you spent time with Marcus, the girl positively adored you, and always sent you texts from her father’s phone.

We’re having pizza tonight! Wanna come over?

Dad says he sucks at math. Can you help me with my homework?

My friends canceled on me. Are you free to eat Ben and Jerry’s and watch Mamma Mia with me? 

You’d become like a mother figure to her, helping her when she got her first period, taking her shopping for middle-school dances, giving her boy advice.

Marcus liked you just as much, if not more. You liked him too. He was a funny man, kindhearted and warm. He’d listen to you talk when you’d had a shitty day, bring over a bottle of wine when he needed some comfort, cook dinner for the two of you when Missy was at Anita’s.

One night, you’re eating dinner with them on their patio. It’s nice, overlooking their backyard and their pool. Missy is going to a friend’s later, to sleep over, but Marcus had cooked food for the three of you on the grill, something you’d learned he was fantastic at, and you’re inside getting more food. The door is slightly cracked, and you can hear the two of them talking. 

“Dad. You have to make your move, and you gotta do it tonight! Otherwise, she’ll go for Kent a couple doors down. You don’t want that, do you?” she asks in a hushed voice.

“It’s not that easy, muñeca. I’m so in love with her I don’t know what to do.”

Your heart catches in your chest, fluttering. Marcus likes you. Not only that, he’s in love with you. The past few months race through your head, and you hyper-analyze every little interaction the two of you have had. It’s clear now, in hindsight. You swallow hard, putting back down the skewer of vegetables.

He’s been the only thing on your mind the past few weeks, you have to admit. Your visits to each others’ homes had increased, with you spending more and more nights a week at the Morenos’. His laugh makes your stomach flutter as Missy says something else to him outside. You bite your lip. Tonight’s the night. If he doesn’t make his move like Missy insisted, you’ll do it first.

The conversation is light for the rest of dinner, and you’re a bit detached. Marcus can tell, but he doesn’t comment on it. You simply stare out into their pool, listening to Missy ramble on about the plans that she and her friends have for tonight.

A while later, her friends’ parents pick her up. You stand in the driveway and wave a thank-you to the girl’s parents as they drive off with Missy and her friend in tow. “Love you guys,” she shouts out of the window. You grin and shout it back, in sync with Marcus.

The two of you return to the backyard. You walk a little farther apart from Marcus than normal. “Hey,” he says and stands right next to you, his shoulder nudging yours. “What’s wrong? You’ve been off all night,” he mumbles softly.

You shake your head. “It’s nothing, really,” you chuckle, looking down at your feet. 

Marcus is oblivious to the fact that you heard the two of them earlier. You and Marcus have always had a playful relationship, and the idea strikes him to help cheer you up. “Hey, vecina.”

“What- ah!” You squeal as Marcus lifts you in his strong arms. He walks the two of you to the side of the pool as you wriggle in his grip, laughing. “Goddamnit, Marcus! Let go of me!” You screech as he holds you over the pool, though you’re giggling the whole time.

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” he laughs, your feet kicking as they dangle over the chlorinated water. 

“No, you asshole!” You laugh, wriggling. “Put me down, Moreno, or God help your poor soul when I-” 

He sets you down on the edge, backing up a bit. “There, fine. Just trying to help,” he teases. He did, he thinks to himself. You’re smiling again. 

You’re painfully close to him. Your hands find his hips and he looks down at your hands in confusion as you pat the pockets of his shorts. No phone. Perfect. There’s a devilish grin as you wrap him in a bear hug and fall backwards into the pool, taking him with you.

You let go once you’re underwater, shooting up to the surface from under him and laughing. He comes up moments later, wiping his eyes and pushing his hair back. Your laugh is maniacal and loud, completely content and proud of yourself. “There, I cheered you up at least,” he shakes his head and smiles. He walks to the shallower end of the pool, and you follow.

“I wasn’t in a bad mood,” you shoot back.

“Well, something was off. Will you tell me now?” He asks, your eyes wandering to his- oh, he’s ripped, goddamn- abs beneath his wet t-shirt. His eyes remained trained on yours, ever the gentleman.

Swallowing hard, you nod and walk closer to him with a smile. “I heard you and Missy when I was inside getting more food,” you tell him, biting on your lip to hold back an excited giggle.

His brows furrow in confusion then lift in surprise as it hits him. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you nod, wading a little closer and then even closer. You can hear his heavy breathing and look into those big brown eyes with a grin. 

“Well, I-” he starts stammering, unsure of what to say, until you place your hands on his shoulders.

“It’s okay, Marcus,” you mumble soothingly, your arms wrapping around his neck. “I know you said it’s not that easy. Why don’t you let me take the reins then, hm?” You ask teasingly, bringing your face close to his. 

He grins, taking the opportunity as he sees it. His lips crash to yours happily, his hands finding your waist over your sopping wet clothing. You smile softly against his lips. They’re so soft and warm, the very lips you’ve been staring at for a long time, imagining this. He’s gentle but loving and you deepen it. He follows immediately, parting his lips against yours and he sighs into your mouth. 

The two of you stand there, in his pool, making out, for quite a while. Finally, when he breaks away, looking at you through his water-drop-stained glasses, you grin. “This is your fault, you know. I’m gonna have to go home and change into dry clothing.”

“Or you could borrow some of mine,” he offers with a shy smile, and you grin.

“That works too.”

He kisses you one more time. “Will you stay the night? We don’t even have to… to do anything. I don’t even really want to yet. I just want to keep holding on to you.”

You nod and kiss him softly, for just a moment. “Of course I will.” -

You awaken in the morning to the smell of cooking. You live alone, and it makes your brow furrow in confusion, eyes still shut, until they open and you find yourself in Marcus’ home. His bed, specifically. 

You smell like chlorine and your hair is damp still, but you’re wearing a big black sweater that smells like detergent and cologne and sleep. It’s Marcus’s, you realize with a smile. 

Last night was truly perfect. No, you didn’t sleep with him yet, but it was still perfectly intimate, the way you held each other and whispered sweet words and pressed soft kisses all over each others’ faces and torsos. You’d made out for a fair amount of time too, just like teenagers again, but it was meaningful. 

You pad down the stairs, wearing just your underwear and one of Marcus’s big sweaters. He’s cooking breakfast in the kitchen, and your heart melts as you see him. “Good morning, superhero,” you coo as you wrap your arms around him from behind and press a kiss into his neck.

His body warms and melts into your touch. “Good morning, beautiful. How did you sleep?”

“Amazing. Your bed is insanely comfortable,” you chuckle and snuggle in against him, resting your head against his back. 

“I’m glad. Go sit down, breakfast will be ready in a bit.”

You nod and do exactly that, sitting across the kitchen island from him. He puts some pancakes on a plate, drizzles them with syrup, and slides it to you. “Bon appetit.”

“Thank you,” you grin and waste no time in cutting into them with a fork and taking a bite.

You sigh happily and Marcus’s heart can barely take the sight of it. “I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.”

“I can’t get over how cute you are,” you tease and pop another bite in your mouth. “The good news is that you can get over it, because I’m coming over here for breakfast in your clothes every day now.”

“Or you could live here.”

The proposal is so quiet, so sudden and nonchalant that it takes you aback for a minute. “What?”

He shrugs. “I know we’ve only been together for, what, 10 hours now, but Missy and I both adore you. You’re over here all the time anyway. Why don’t you? Save us both some money, too.”

You bite your lip to hold back a grin. “I might have to think about it.”

He nods. “I get that, I-“

“Done thinking. I’ll do it,” you grin happily. 

“Really?”

“Really,” you nod, giggling excitedly. 

Marcus leans across the kitchen counter and kisses you softly. “Be prepared for a lot of Moreno loving. Missy’s a cuddler.”

“I think I can take it,” you smile and press another kiss to his lips, with all of the love in your heart. 

-

translations:

vecina- neighbor (female)

muñeca- in this context, doll

-

hey taglist, come get y’all’s juice

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1

[jeogiyall]

Growing Pains; Song Mingi

Word count; 21.5k

Genre; Mingi X Reader, Hongjoong X Reader, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, College AU, Angst, Fluff but Barely

Request: “ hey can I please request a college au with #11 and #17 with mingi from ateez! can it also be long and really angsty but with a comforting ending?? love your work by the way ❤ “

Additional; Featured Ateez, Rebound Hongjoong

Warnings; General Angst, Depicts Depression, Honestly Just Really Sad lol

A/N; this took me so freaking long to write, i’m really sorry to whoever requested it dhkdsfsdaf!! i hope you enjoy it! i haven’t been to college yet so this is all based off of books i’ve read or stories that i’ve been told. if anything is inaccurate i’m sorry, i’ll be learning about really soon lol. if you you like this fic please leave a like or some kind words! love you all, happy reading!

It was a summer day when the local neighborhood bullies pushed you off of your barbie themed bike for the umpteenth time. You remember scraping your knee, dropping your strawberry ice cream cone, then seeing the older boys approach you with malicious grins. But before they could fully reach you there was someone else, someone with limbs that were a bit too long and knees that were raw like yours. Any other day you would’ve found it unbelievably embarrassing that this bozo thinks he can handle this situation any better than you. As if you haven’t been handling this for years. 

But with him it was different. He somehow scared off the crude boys, then offered his hand to hoist you from the pavement while looking sadly at your discarded ice cream cone.

“I’m sorry about your ice cream.” You remember his voice being creaky, like it was always about to break (which it did, frequently,) “I’ll make you some whenever it snows! Th-that’s the only way that I know how to make it, but it’s really good I promise!” He was excited, almost like a puppy. Some part of you thought that it was cute, the bigger part knew he was probably just pitying you. Pitying you the same way that everyone does when you tell them of your constant bullying, only to forget about it in a week and leave you to the wolves. 

“Oh it’s okay, um…”

“Mingi.”

“Mingi!” You repeated the syllables, allowing their taste to form on your tongue. It’s sweet, like an orange soda and going to bed too late, “It’s okay Mingi, you don’t have to pretend like it matters.” Where you thought that his features would fade into relief they pull taught with sadness. He almost looked offended.

“You’re (Y/n,) right?” You nod shortly, eyes welling with tears for no apparent reason, “I-I’m not pretending. It matters.” Something about the way he gazes at you makes you think he’s been wanting to say that for a long time. 

“N-not really, they’re just mean sometimes. Besides, even if it did matter no one can stop it. No one’s ever stopped it.” It felt like you’d crossed a line. Cut the cake before you were supposed to, put out words you were meant to swallow down. Tears were really about to start falling, until Mingi took your skinned palms into his own larger ones. The clench of familiarity in your chest is enough to snuff out the stinging.

“I’ll stop it. I’ll do everything in my power to stop it.” He rubbed his thumb over the top of your hand, and it felt so nice. The gentle touch of someone who could be a friend. The notion that someone wanted you. It felt so nice and foreign and familiar all at once. So you nodded.

“Okay.” He squeezed your hand excitedly then surged forward, but stopped just before his arms could take home on your shoulders. You notice that he smells nice, like oranges and cinnamon.

“Can I hug you?” And just like that he’s made his way into the walls that you’ve already managed to build up.

“Okay.”

The boy holds true to his promise when two weeks later the boys approach you in the hallway, all cheery smiles and cold eyes. It’s a common exchange, they show up and tell you that you look nice today or some other fake compliment before demanding that you give them all of your lunch money. Which sounds stupid, until it’s two in the afternoon and you haven’t eaten all day and you won’t get to for another half hour.

But before anything can happen, Mingi is at your side and talking about his advanced math class. You watch as the boys slowly disperse at your friends silly rambling until it’s just the two of you. A deep breath floods your lungs as he softly punches your bicep in a way that’s starting to feel normal.

“Told you so. Do you want to come over for ice cream after school?” It’s silly how the words fill you with warmth, but you don’t even care. Because what you have here is so secure, and you know that it always will be.

And it always is. Mingi’s friendship is solid throughout your entire life, even when you started high school and nearly everything was shaky. Even when he grew out of the awkward limbs and squeaky voice, and all of the girls at your school wanted his attention. Day after day, Mingi would reject their proposals with a simple “I’m busy,” when the truth of the matter was that he would be sitting with you. Alone. In his basement, watching Star Wars on VHS tapes while eating strawberry ice cream and popcorn.

You remember turning to him one night, eyes drinking in the sight of his side profile illuminated by an exploding death star. He smiled widely, clapping his hands the way that he always does at that part. A deep sigh resounded through your chest, causing the boy to look at you with furrowed brows. For what must have been the millionth time, your eyes locked with his. Words weren’t even necessary for comfort.

“Why did you want to be friends with me? No one has ever cared about me too much, so why did you? I didn’t have anyone, why did you want to be my someone?” Your question sounds small, voice wavering gently.

“Maybe I needed someone too.” The response was so quick. Like he had pondered it before. As if he knew every doubt that you were having, and knew that you didn’t need to have them. 

From that night on, Mingi was more than your best friend. More than someone who you spent everyday with. No, he became your partner in almost everything. He took you to the school dance, stood beside you at every sports game, spent long nights trying to decipher math problems. No one was surprised when you two started applying to the same colleges, you weren’t even sure that you’d survive living without him. Judging by the pattering of his heart each time you entered a room, Mingi thought so too.

Over the years of close proximity and healthy doses of codependency, Mingi’s feelings towards you had progressed slightly past friendship. Not that he didn’t still think of you in that way, obviously. It’s just that whenever you fell asleep on his chest halfway through star wars marathons he’d have to will his heart to beat a tiny bit slower, or when his family brought you along to the beach he had to remind himself that it was rude to stare. The shift in his feelings started about three months into your sophomore year together, while stuffing your face with greasy fast food burgers after a wildly unimpressive football game. Neither of you ever cared about school sports too much, yet you were present every single week. When Mingi asked why, you claimed it was to get him out of the house. He’s pretty sure it was so that you’d have an excuse to get burgers afterwards, though. 

The boy distinctly remembers looking up over his boat of fries to see you with full cheeks, one strand of hair sticking to your slightly sweaty forehead. He remembers the bustling sounds of the diner going silent as his eyes drank in the sight of you for what felt like the first time ever. He remembers thinking that he wouldn’t know how to live life if it weren’t for you. Thinking that life wouldn’t be worth living if it weren’t for you.

“What?” You had questioned, nearly spitting out bits of cheeseburger onto your friends fries. If Mingi wasn’t so infatuated in that moment, he would have been disgusted. 

“You’re gross.” He laughed, one hand moving to nudge your shoulder. From that moment on, Mingi thought of you as just a little bit more than a friend. Just a little bit more than a movie marathon partner, just a little bit more than someone to spend late nights with. A little bit more than someone who helped move you into a college dorm, too. 

“Who on this forsaken earth thought that loft beds were a good idea?” You heave, flinging yourself onto the elevated mattress. It’s far from comfortable, and you’ve had to carry countless boxes up two flights of stairs due to the lack of an elevator, and the hallway smells distinctly of burnt microwave popcorn, but you have never in your life felt more free. High school was absolute torture, and while you did have Mingi to lean on you were still terribly lonely for those four years. Every other girl had a group to sit with, or someone to drag along to the bathroom with them in the middle of class. Having only one friend typically meant having absolutely no classes with them. 

But you’re here now, hundreds of miles away from the tattered building where you used to go to school. The only person on the entire campus that even knows your name at this point is Mingi, which in turn means he’s the only person that knows about your habit of loneliness. You intend to keep it that way, too. Every shy kid hears it from their parents, ‘College will be so good for you,’ ‘You’re really gonna come out of your shell in college,’ but those words meant more to you than an empty promise. In the last few months when you were so terribly lonely that all you had was Mingi and writing until your fingertips fell off, those words were your lifeline.

“Probably someone that didn’t get enough hugs as a kid.” Your friend responds while dropping the final box, which is filled with nothing but fuzzy sock, onto the pile that’s accumulating on the desk that’s squeezed under your cursed bed, “Looks like the last of it.” You nod, cheek brushing gently against the uncovered mattress. It creaks loudly when you shift, which is something you’re sure that you’ll never get used to.

“Are you sure that you don’t want help unpacking?” You barely look up while asking the question, nuzzling even closer into the awful bed. It takes a certain level of shamelessness to sleep on a fully uncovered mattress while a random stranger could walk in and drop all of their stuff on the floor, but you swear to the stars that you’re about there. Mingi appears to be the same way, taking to resting against your yet-to-arrive roommates desk.

“Yea I’m sure, my roommate’s this absolute giant, Yunho I think? He promised to help, so I’m all good.” A hollow laugh leaves your throat, aching with sleepiness. Mingi’s eyes soften ever so slightly before casting to your dirty tile floor.

 “Sounds nice.” There’s a nod, then a groan, then shuffling on everyone's part before Mingi is standing in your doorway and casting a soft gaze to your sleepy form.

“I’ll see you at dinner tonight.” A low humph resounds as your answer, but Mingi knows there’s no weight. You’re going to lay on that loft bed, sleeping like a rock until someone bothers to wake you up.

The someone just so happens to be Mingi, five hours later in a fresh hoodie that has your universities name embroidered across the chest. First you notice the perfectly made bed across the room, then the lack of another girl, then the scrent of oranges mixed with cinnamon, then finally Mingi nudging your shoulder from the ground while holding a Styrofoam bowl of hot food. 

“D-did I miss dinner?” Your eyes squint harshly, the way they always do when someone’s just woken you up. 

“Yea.”

“Sorry.” Mingis heart clenches tightly at your slurred speech, then again at your fluttering eyelids.

“S’okay, I brought you food.” His voice sounds warm, low. Like the Mingi that you’ve always known. You sit up and accept the to go bowl he’s passing up before patting the empty spot next to you. Within seconds the boy is next to you and offering utensils along with his arm around your shoulder, “It’s ramen.”

“Really?” The boy nods, fluffy brown hair falling onto his forehead as you excitedly rip the lid off. The smell of spicy ramen wafts through your otherwise empty dorm, and while it’s not the same as what Mingis mom would make from scratch on Winter days it still fills your belly with an immeasurable warmth, “Have I ever mentioned that you’re my favorite person?” Your shoulders relax thanks to a mouthful of slick curly noodles, Mingi can feel each individual muscle give way beneath his touch.

“Once or twice.” 

The two of you spend that night curled up on your bed sharing bites of the warm soup, and even once it’s done and the bowl is disposed of it still feels like old times. His arm is resting around you, the conversation is happening effortlessly, laughter is bouncing from every last tile. It doesn’t exactly fit in with your ‘new school, new me’  narrative, but that’s okay. You can always spend one night in comfort seeing as the following nights will be spent doing thousands of things out of your comfort zone.

When the time comes for him to walk back to his own dorm building, it’s well past dark outside, your clock ticking dangerously close to midnight from its perch on the (useless) nightstand. The boy hugs you in the doorway, making you pinky promise to not sleep through lunch tomorrow. 

“I won’t, I promise! Please don’t tell me that I left you sitting alone!” He exhales a short laugh at your furrowing eyebrows, his hand taking home on your shoulder in an attempt to squeeze out your tension.

“Not at all, Yunho has like a ton of friends. They’re funny, too.” 

“Really?” Mingi squeezes your shoulder one last before nodding. 

“Really.” 

He walks home in silence, the beginnings of an Autumn breeze kissing his cheeks. Upon arriving at the dorm Yunho spins around in his desk chair, smirking at the younger boy as if he knows something that Mingi doesn’t. 

“Where’d you go after dinner? We were gonna invite you to Wooyoung and Sans apartment.” Yunho leans back in the chair, it’s legs teetering precariously in a way that would debilitate elementary teachers.

“Oh, thanks! Maybe next time, I had to check on a friend.” Yunho quirks an eyebrow as Mingi begins to climb into his bed, kicking his shoes off at the base of the wobbly ladder.

“A girlfriend?” The question should be shocking, Yunho doesn’t even know that you exist for crying out loud, but he is so used to it. After being your best friend and caring for you as deeply as he does, he is so used to it.

“Nope, why do you ask.” The older boy simply shrugs, grounding his chair and picking up a stubby pencil. 

“Just an inkling. Lots of girls came up to you in line, you seemed less than interested.” Mingi ponders his response, because what do you even say to that? He doesn’t have a girlfriend, he’s not interested in anyone, he only has you to worry about. You, with your laugh that defines his childhood. You, with eyes that shoot wide anytime you’re worried about accidentally offending someone. You, who wants to make a new person in the coming year; and you, who Mingi wants to convince that you don’t have to change.

“Nope, she’s just a friend.” He decides, the words falling flat in the cramped room.

“Whatever you say.” 

Mingi lays sleeplessly in his bed for hours, his head pounding with the thought of how hard your connection with him is becoming. He loves you in more ways than one, but he doesn’t love the ache in his chest whenever he has to leave you. He doesn’t love that way that the weight of your touch haunts him for days, when for you it’s probably just something easy and meaningless. He doesn’t love being less to you than you are to him. 

But he does love you, in a way that’s impenetrable and everlasting. That alone is almost enough to make everything worthwhile. Almost.

*

It turns out the whole ‘new school new me’ thing is much harder than you previously anticipated. Naïve senior you thought that maybe you could meet new people through your roommate, but that didn’t exactly work out. It’s been two weeks and all you know about her is that she’s a junior, and that she really doesn’t want to be staying in a dorm. 

So, that’s obviously not going the way that you’d hoped. There is another person though, and he’s been a great help in meeting new people. He is a roommate, ironically enough. Just not your own.

Jeong Yunho, sophomore, fading blue hair, cheeks that look like freshly baked bread, brown eyes that sparkle a little bit when you ask about his major (biology, which is something that you know far too much about after a brief stop by Mingis dorm,) and a head that hits damn near every doorway it passes through. He has to duck to get into the cafeteria. But he’s sweet, like the guy who you could ask for help with homework. And he has so many friends, who are all terribly boisterous, that just eating lunch is like going out of your comfort zone.

Which is enough for you, but apparently not Mingi.

It’s a classic Friday night marathon, you already cuddled up on your bed with Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire pulled up on your laptop. The only thing left to accomplish is getting Mingi next to you and watching the movies, but that doesn’t seem to be the plan that your friend has. When he opens the door to your dorm you immediately notice the lack of Harry Potter pajama pants and popcorn. Instead he’s opted for movie night chic, with jeans that have something written on the left thigh and a white t-shirt that hangs off his lithe torso. His caramel brown hair is pushed back in a way that you’re not used to seeing, but it looks good. Attractive, even. There’s something about seeing him all dressed up and handsome while you’re in measly shorts and a platform 9 3/4 t-shirt that makes your cheeks go hot.

“I didn’t tell you before because I knew that you would say no, but Hongjoong and Seonghwa are having a party tonight and we’re going. Surprise!” Your mouth drops open at Mingi’s form of greeting. Before you can even process what’s been said he’s shaking the rail of your loft bed and chanting ‘Get up! Get up!’ 

“What about Harry Potter night?” You question dumbly while shimmying down your ladder. Obviously Harry Potter night has been discarded in favor of a house party, you don’t need Mingi to say anything to gather that much information, “Seonghwa is okay with a party in their apartment?” Mingi laughs gently, a soft shake of his shoulders and glittering eyes. It’s the only familiar thing about your interaction thus far. 

“The boys said that it’ll hardly be a party, probably too few people and too many wine coolers. Maybe some jazz, Seonghwa’s pretentious like that y’know?” He opens your closet door for you and starts to wrack through the few dresses in the very back. You’d never had much of a reason to buy any dresses. 

“Believe me, I know.” Seonghwa was one of the first of Yunho’s friends that you’d met, and while he wasn’t an ass about it he was definitely a little pretentious. It’s probably hard to be an art major for three years and not be pretentious, “Do I have to wear a dress?”

“You don’t have to, but-” 

Long story short, you find yourself sitting on a suede couch clad in a red plaid mini dress that you only bought for a neighborhood Christmas party in your sophomore year and your one pair of worn leather boots. It’s a tight fitting thing, meant to be worn over turtlenecks and with tights, but Mingi insisted that it would look good alone. He’s not wrong either, ever since you set foot into the surprisingly swanky off campus housing your lunch mates have been showering you in compliments. It started with Wooyoung wolf whistling and asking for your phone number, then Hongjoong asking if he could’ve complimented you in a way that was any weirder, then San giving you a stemless wine glass and announcing ‘A sparkling cider for the lady,’ in the most offensive British accent you’ve ever heard. It was for sure a strange form of flattery, but flattery nonetheless. 

“I’m sorry about Wooyoung, he apparently hasn’t been house trained yet.” Hongjoong jokes while settling you onto his plush, red hair briefly sweeping in front of his attentive brown eyes, “Though we can’t really blame him because of the whole sports medicine thing.” You hear a brief ‘I heard that!’ waft from the kitchen, where Yunho and Seonghwa have gathered the majority of the boys. It makes Hongjoong giggle a little bit, and the sound is so clear and gentle that you find yourself giggling too.

“I guess we can’t.” Your eyes move to take in the living room, which is filled with your lunchmates and some extra people who you don’t know in the slightest. First there’s San, your fellow literature major who just switched from middle school education. Then Yeosang, a quiet sophomore who majors in political science. He usually only talks at lunch to tell his table mates that they sound ridiculous, but every once in a while he'll indulge their antics. Lastly there’s Jongho, the only other freshman in the room with you that you know of. You’ve only just finished your second week but everyone’s already expecting him to be the star student of the music program for the next four years. 

Everything about this situation reads anxiety. Mingi is already in a different room, you’ve barely held a conversation with any of these guys before, someone in the corner is definitely getting a little too drunk into a ficus tree in the corner of the room. But you aren’t nervous. A little tense maybe but who wouldn’t be? You certainly aren’t nervous the way that high school you would’ve been nervous.

“He’s not wrong, you know.” Your eyebrows shoot up with a quiet ‘hm?’ behind your lips. It’s mostly because you think you’ve missed something that Hongjoong said.

“Not wrong about what?” He looks at you with his brown eyes and a lopsided grin, and when you look back it feels like he’s asking for permission to unravel you.

“That you look pretty.” 

It’s not his words that take you off guard, or how he pinches your cheeks afterwards, or even him getting off of the couch and bouncing into the kitchen like a kid coming down the stairs. Your heart barely announces a flutter, your cheeks barely give way to heat. He was probably tipsy. It’s just that no one has ever noticed you in that way. No one other than Mingi has ever really called you pretty.

So it leaves an impression, to say the least.

Quickly after Hongjoong leaves, San takes his place, Jongho sitting on the floor and nuzzling into the older boy's legs. The three of you talk for hours, Jongho sharing your disdain for grumpy roommates (he says that Yeosang throws pillows at him when he starts practicing) and San for Beowulf. He does mention that your creative writing class is fun, to which you agree. Fun, but ever so stifling for creativity. 

It’s a simple kind of conversation, the kind that doesn’t tell anything too personal but still gives insight into the people having it. San throws in a few anecdotes about him and Wooyoung in high school, Jongho shows you a bruise he got from fumbling up the ladder to his loft bed. You even include a few of the controversial star wars opinions that you and Mingi came up with at three in the morning so many years ago. It’s simple, weightless.

When Mingi walks you back to your dorm that night he pauses outside of the door, one hand brushing a stray strand of hair away from your eyes.

“Hongjoong asked me about you.” He says, a smile playing onto his lips. Something about the way that it doesn’t fully reach his brown eyes makes it seem sad.

“Really?” The memory of Hongjoongs hands on your face, his cute voice burning the words ‘you look pretty’ into the back of your mind, “W-What did he ask?”

“Just basic stuff. How long we’ve known each other, your major...” He wants to add ‘whether or not we’re dating,’ because that’s the question that struck him the most. Mingi doesn’t know Hongjoong too well, but he knows that the older boy is sweet and respectable. If Mingi explained all of this mess to him, Hongjoong probably wouldn’t think twice, just go about his day and be friendly as always. But Mingi didn’t explain it, he said that you guys are just friends and that it’s never been anything more than that. Hongjoong smiled in a way that made Mingi’s chest ache and thanked him before bouncing off to entertain Seonghwa. He remembers feeling taken aback, then like he should go talk to the pretty girl that’s been eyeing him in calculus, “I can’t do movie night next week. I-I have a date.”

And it’s something about those words that manages to crawl into your body and find a home in your heart, then pump throughout your entire bloodstream. You shouldn’t be upset. You have no reason to be upset. Mingi is your best friend, and you were stuttering about Hongjoong mere seconds ago, and you shouldn’t be upset right now.

“Oh, okay... Just don’t forget about me.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but Mingi looks at you like you’re the moon. With care glimmering in his irises and adoration adorning the glow of his cheeks. You think to yourself that there’s something special in the air, then that you shouldn’t be upset.

You have no reason to be upset.

“I couldn’t if I tried.”

*

The next time that you see Mingi is at lunch on Monday, but he doesn’t take his normal seat next to you. He can’t when you’re already sandwiched between Jongho and San, who are talking in intense detail about their terrible morning classes. Sometimes you can join in, seeing as you and San share classes, but for the most part they just banter. Hongjoong is taking up the seat in front of you, his chin resting on his palm while he nods attentively to everything the younger boys are saying. He reminds Jongho that he needs to be getting sleep, and that life doesn’t happen in practice rooms. He tells San to eat his food whenever the boy gets a little bit too excited. He even asks about your day, to which you respond with something simple and lame. When you mention being tired he gives you the rest of his coffee.

Mingi comes to the table nearly twelve minutes after you do, and it’s not really a big deal that he can’t take his usual seat. There’s a chair between Wooyoung and Yunho at the end of the table, which is perfectly fine. The two of you know each other well enough that a simple look can be translated to ‘It’s okay, we’ll see each other later.’ Which is perfectly fine. You both have a lunch that is perfectly fine.

The week continues on like that, though. Missing each other by a hair's breadth. On Wednesday his intro to statistical methods test goes so late that he misses your scheduled coffee run, then when you tried to surprise him in his dorm later that night, Yunho had to inform you that he was holed up in the library with some of the people in his calculus class (Yunho let you come in and made hot chocolate in the Keurig, so overall the night wasn’t too bad.) Then on Thursday you skipped lunch, opting instead to finish the assigned Beowulf reading at the last possible minute. You hated every minute of it, but not as much as you would’ve hated failing your second ever quiz. San sent you a picture of himself and Hongjoong pouting around your empty chair and Mingi in the background laughing at something that Wooyoung had done to Seonghwa. 

Friday night feels more lonely than you had expected. Your bed is empty without the taller boy sitting in it beside you. The movie gets cut off halfway through when your roommate stumbles in and announces that she’s going to sleep, which is the most she’s ever said to you at one time. You turn off your laptop and fall into the uncomfortable bed that you’re slowly getting used to. This is okay. You remind yourself that you shouldn’t be upset and that this is okay. 

Right as sleep is about to wash over the room your phone lights up with a message from Mingi. It’s a picture of his hand cradling the chin of a golden retriever puppy, and beneath he’s written ‘we found these dogs in the courtyard. sleep well :)’ 

After reading the message three times over and staring at the image for ten minutes you start to believe your words. This is okay.

You shouldn’t be upset and this is okay.

*

Your high school had three classes per semester then one free period for a study hall. Mingi would always make this huge deal out of lining up your study halls, claiming that he needed help with his English classes. In reality you were the person that needed help with classes, namely math and science, but he’d always insist that it was because of whatever book he had for assigned reading in the upcoming class. 

There was this one semester, though, where you had four classes. Anatomy, geometry, personal finance, and then your absolute saving grace. Creative writing. 

It was a true blessing, honestly. Since every other class was absolute torture, and you didn’t really have any Mingi time to take the edge off of your day, that class was your favorite part of nearly every day. You would kind of use it as an escape, just sit in the isolated corner desk, tap the toe of your then fresh leather boots, and write about any and everything that came to mind. The teacher liked one of your stories so much that he framed it. 

Seeing as that was your only experience when you saw ‘Introduction To Creative Writing’ on your schedule you were ecstatic. You thought that you’d just get to sit and write anything that you wanted. Needless to say, it is nothing at all like your high school class. The teacher speaks too quickly and assigns nearly a million readings. He waited four weeks to let the students do any actual writing, a fact that San was most grateful for. You, however, were dying.

You think the assignment is kind of stupid, too. Focus on a setting, no characters. Just the setting. It took a while for you to get it just right, but after about a week of staying up past midnight you wrote something that was actually good enough to read. It was nearly two pages about Florence Italy, going in depth about the winding roads. You commented that they were the kind of streets that lent way to deep discussion. The kind that begged for secrets to be shared.

All in all, you were quite proud of it. You even considered showing it to Mingi, until it came back with a bright red C sketched on the front. It was covered top to bottom in red ink markings, none of which were comments about your grammar. No, these notes were personal. This sentence is lifeless. Your tone shift is unnecessary. I’m not sure that this is actually in Italy. 

San asked about your grade on the way to your European literature class that day, right as you’re reading over the harshest note of them all. He says that he got an A minus, which makes perfect sense. San isn’t lifeless, he doesn’t do unnecessary things. 

“My grade is fine.” You choke out, eyes endlessly tracing over the red notation. 

‘This feels lonely.’ 

In a way, you suppose that it is. 

*

“So you did this every single Friday night?” Yunho questions while sandwiching his way onto Mingi’s bed. It would probably be normal to be upset that your movie is being infiltrated by your friends roommate and Hongjoong, but you’re just so grateful for the movie night to actually happen that it doesn’t matter.

“Sounds about right.” You’re about to comment that you’ve skipped the past two weeks, but the words twinge with resentment right as they’re about to come out. So you swallow them down while scooching into Mingi’s side. Hongjoong immediately fills the new space beside you, his hands occupied with fuzzy blankets that have various patterns. One has corgi’s and hearts printed from corner to corner.

“I don’t know if that’s lame or endearing.” The older boy comments while spreading the blanket you’d been eyeing across your lap. Yunho laughs while taking in a mouthful of microwave popcorn, and you think to yourself that this isn’t so bad. Having a movie night with more people than usual is better than having none at all. There’s more snacks and extra blankets now, so you don’t have to burrow into Mingi’s comforter halfway through and tangle your legs together. Because you’ve never wanted to do that before, it just happened out of habit and necessity. Definitely habit and necessity. Definitely. 

There’s also not much difference in the essence of movie night. Someone still interrupts serious scenes to crack a joke, you still tell Mingi that he’s breathing too loud, by the time the credits are rolling you still find grease stains on the underside of Mingis comforter. It’s from all of the years of him using the plush blanket in place of a napkin, and the years of you telling him that he’s going to stain it.

Mingi walks you back to your dorm that night. When he stops in front of the door and lets out a deep exhale it almost feels like you haven’t skipped the past two weeks. It almost feels normal.

“I’m glad that at least one of us has a cool roommate.” He comments idly, eyes raking over your growing smile.

“With cool friends.” There’s a gentle laugh, and you’re not exactly sure why. Nothing is funny, just familiar. Maybe a bit tense, though you suppose you don’t know the reason for that either.

“Yea. Cool friends.” Mingis feet shuffle, brown hair flopping onto the bridge of his nose as his gaze takes purchase on the floor. He smells like oranges and cinnamon. He always has. You think that he looks nice like this, with the flickering hall lights illuminating his face. This is probably what Mingi was always meant to look like. Real, and handsome, and grown, “I think we should switch movie nights to once a month.”

And if this whole thing was a little tense before, like an ornament hanging on by it’s hook around one green needle from a Christmas tree, it’s worse now. It’s broken shards of glass all over your living room floor, willing and ready to pierce your foot and stain the carpet. It’s the gaping hole in your Christmas tree. It’s your mom's favorite Santa no longer having a head.

“O-oh... Once a month?” Mingi nods gently. It almost looks like he doesn’t want to be nodding, but he is. He is, and it’s pulling your heartstrings like an orchestra. 

“Yea, I just figured that’d be easier since we’re so busy. Y’know, with classes and friends...” You wonder if he’s going to say something else. Like dates with girls from his calculus class. He never does, but you can feel it.

“I know, I-I’m like... Super busy with all of my f-friends.” A heartless laugh leaves you, and Mingi replies with a smile that doesn’t quite crinkle his eyes, “But yea. Once a month, once a month. Once a month totally works for me.” He takes a step towards you.

“Look, (y/n-)” You think that he’s about to comfort you, which of course would be welcome. Comfort from your very best friend is always welcome. It’s just that a small part of you is worried that he’s going to take it back. You’re worried that he’s going to tell you that it’s whatever and you can have movie night every week until you die and that he’s going to live life in college dragged down by your stupid, lonely self. You’re worried that he’s going to drop it, and that you’ll never live it down.

“It’s fine, I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch, yea?” Before the boy can even fully nod, which makes you sick to your stomach for no apparent reason, you’re scrambling desperately for the doorknob to your dorm. You think that you may hear him say goodbye, or wait, or something. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Everything matters. You just want to be inside. 

When you get inside your roommate is sitting on her bed with earbuds in, though they don’t appear to be playing anything. She looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, and you can’t really blame her. In the rush to get away from Mingi you probably ended up looking a bit frazzled. 

“Um... Are you okay?” She questions, her mouth making a perfect circle. You nod fervently while bringing your palms up to pull at your cheeks. They’re wet. You’re not sure when they turned wet. 

“I’m fine. It’s okay.” 

Sometimes you say something so many times that it doesn’t sound real anymore. I’m okay, this is okay. I’m okay, this is okay, This is okay, this is okay. Okay, okay, okay...

If your roommate hears you sniffling and shaking while alone in bed that night, she makes no comment. It’s the first thing she’s given you to be grateful about all year. 

*

One of your biggest concerns before starting college was walking to classes alone. All throughout high school Mingi would walk with you across the tiny campus, somehow managing to drown out the crowded hallways with laughter and tips for quizzes. When you were taking discrete mathematics he’d walk backwards down the hallway while showing you flashcards. 

Obviously you knew that wouldn’t be feasible in college. You might not have known many things before coming here, but you knew that vastly different majors would lead to vastly different classes. You knew that Mingi wasn’t going to wake up at eight am every Wednesday to walk you to your lectures. Knowing didn’t seem to make the actual act of it any easier in your brain.

But after just one week you started to look forward to the trek to your classes. At first it was because you could listen to the assigned readings in the amount of time it took you to get from your door to your desk, however that hasn’t been necessary since your social calendar became suddenly clear. You just do the readings at night in your loft bed, which hasn’t gotten any comfier, then use the walk as a time to relax. To think without impositions, even though they’d find their way to you most mornings. 

Today your imposition is dressed in jeans with painting above the knee and a sweater that’s too big, tufts of red hair sticking out from beneath his black beanie.

“What are you doing out so early?” Hongjoong asks while jogging to take up the spot next to you, pulling on the strap of your bookbag as he arrives. When you fully look at his face you can see a dusting of pink across his nose. You think it’s from the light fall wind.

“I could ask the same thing of you.” You think that he looks pretty like this, with inklings of the rising sun taking purchase on his face. You almost think that anyone would look pretty like this.

“I’m out for a walk. Also grabbing muffins from the campus cafe, we’re out of food and Seonghwa’s mgonna be hungry.” His voice sounds groggy with sleep, like maybe he hasn’t been awake long. The notion conjures an image in your head of Hongjoong detangling himself from bed and trekking out to campus all so that his friend would surely have something to eat. It makes this whole exchange just a little bit easier, “Your turn.”

“I have an eight am class.” The boys eyebrows knit together as he looks at his darkened phone screen.

“It’s seven fifteen.” 

“... I don’t like my roommate?” At that wimpy explanation he laughs, a gentle laugh that was made for morning, then hooks his arm through your own. The weight is something that you’ll have to grow used to.

“You kids are gonna drive me insane, I swear it.” His free hand pinches your cheek which is growing increasingly warmer. You hope that you two will continue walking like this, quiet and unbothered and maybe a little bit childish.

“Hongjoong?” You question as he begins to pull you down a brick paved road that you’ve yet to travel.

“Hm?” He answers like nothing about this is strange. 

“My class is the other way.” The boy giggles at your concern, wanting to reach out and run his thumb over the crease in between your eyebrows. Something about your demeanor, which isn’t far off from a stray kitten, clues him in that you wouldn’t respond well. 

“We’re taking a detour.” 

“If you don’t tell me where we’re going I’ll pull out my pepper spray.” This sentiment is the first thing all morning that’s made him stop in his tracks, casting a puzzled look to your bulky bookbag.

“Do you actually have pepper spray in there?” You can feel a smile edging on your lips as your eyes click with his, and while you know that he’s not giving you butterflies or sparks it does feel like something. Like the first gulp of soup on a cold day, or the sound of orange leaves crunching beneath your sneakers. 

“Tell me where we’re going and you won’t have to find out.” Obviously, you don’t have any. It’s been in your cart on Amazon for forever but you’re not one hundred percent sure about how to order things to a dorm, and you figure that your first package shouldn’t be a literal weapon. 

“We’re getting coffee, and you are terrifying.” The comment lights your cheeks with fire as you scurry to catch up with him once again.

“Well you’re the only person that thinks so.” The boy walks so quickly that your feet are nearly going in double time, face puffing with cold air while you speak.

“I doubt that.” You notice that his face is pink again, though you’re not too sure that it’s from the cold this time.

“You’re probably the only person who thinks anything of me.” Hongjoong stutters like he’s going to stop walking again but you tug on his arm once more and he’s back in full swing. 

“That’s so not true. Yunho thinks you’re sweet, San says you’re a wonderful writer, Mingi clearly thinks that you’re amazing.” That last statement finds a crawl in your chest and begins to fill your lungs with pink daisies. Amazing. Mingi clearly thinks you’re amazing. 

“Sure.” You answer with twiddly fingertips and a thumping heart. Luckily you’re standing in front of the campus cafe before you can think too hard on it.

Hongjoong orders two salted caramel hot chocolates, a black coffee, and three blueberry muffins. When you asked why he didn’t get you a coffee as promised he told you that the coffee here is ass and Seonghwa only drinks it because he’s starved for energy. You don’t have the heart to tell him that the frappuccino you order has so much cream and sugary syrups in it that you could barely even call it coffee, and it tastes pretty darn good. It’s not a big deal. Hot chocolate is good too.

“This is really good.” You offer later while walking through the campus quad. There’s not many people out this early, just a girl you’ve seen in your lecture once or twice and two boys playing checkers on the grass. Hongjoong keeps stepping on the crunchy orange leaves then smiling like a little kid. It makes you think that he’s growing on you, then that you thought that you’d be doing this kind of stuff with Mingi. 

You don’t really know why you can’t let yourself enjoy this. You’re in the quad with Hongjoong, waiting out the clock until your class starts, and this precious sweet boy is playing in the fall leaves. This should be a perfect morning, but you can’t help feeling sad. Feeling incomplete. 

“I know, right?” He answers, bouncing over to you wearing a bright expression, “Now get up pretty girl, we’re playing in the leaves.” 

“I have a lecture.” He takes your hot chocolate and places it on the empty seat next to you before slotting his hand into your own. His skin is soft, like blankets fresh out of the dryer.

“And before that you’re going to have some fun, let’s go!” He’s smiling at you expectantly, so what are you supposed to do other than drop your hot chocolate and join him?

Your first impression is that he plays with people in the way that a puppy would play with another puppy. He’s quite fond of kicking up piles of leaves just to see how tall they’ll go, then you kick them up further and he gets flustered. He then proceeds to throw leaves in your face, then picks them out of your hair before you can get mad enough to throw them back. You think that this is a lot of fun, then that your trusty boots make a nice sound when the leaves crunch under them.

There’s this one time when you try to kick up the leaves and your leg slips out from beneath you, which sends you flailing backwards into the leaf pile. Hongjoong rushes over immediately, his face half concerned but mostly lit with laughter. He asks if you’re okay, though it’s through indecipherable wheezing so you can’t really hear him. The boy is laughing so hard that he ends up laying next to you, red hair and sparkling eyes mingling with the orange leaves seamlessly. You think that he looks like a photograph. 

If you show up to your lecture ten minutes late and with crushed leaves sprinkled through your hair, no one mentions it. 

*

Movie night with Wooyoung and San is fun. The popcorn is a little bit burnt, courtesy of San, but their couch is far more comfortable and blankets far fuzzier. Sans burning a candle that smells like cookies, and you feel like nothing could be more accurate to him. 

“This is nice, I’ve been meaning to rewatch Harry Potter.” Wooyoung comments while sinking in between you and San on the couch. He’s cradling a bowl of slightly browned popcorn and shoving it into his mouth as if there’s nothing wrong. 

“Yea, definitely. I like spending nights in.” You’re about to tell them that you considered this a night out, but then you think that’s terribly sad and that you’d sound really lame. So you nod instead.

They’re pleasant movie guests, San makes funny comments every once in a while. Wooyoung starts to fidget about halfway through the first movie so he spends the first portion of the second one making a fresh batch of popcorn. It doesn’t burn this time. Him and San spend almost the entire movie tossing popcorn across the room and into each others mouths.  Overall it’s not such a bad night.

When all is said and done and you’re helping them pick up misfire popcorn kernels, the boys get to talking. They ask you what Mingi’s up to that he couldn’t make it to a Friday movie night. You’re going to tell them the truth, that Mingi’s out on a different date with a different girl from a different class. You’re going to tell them, but the words taste so terribly bitter on the way up.

“Um... I’m not sure. Probably homework.” Wooyoung tosses an unpopped kernel so that it hits you square in the forehead. You simply giggle before throwing it into your trash bag.

“We should’ve invited him! Him and Yunho, it could’ve been a whole thing!” San shouts from the kitchen. It makes your skin prick up with goosebumps. Because while you are definitely lonely, and you definitely miss Mingi, you’re not sure that you could handle his response. You’re not sure that you could handle asking Mingi to come to one of your most prized traditions and him saying no. Him saying no because he’s out with another girl and giving her his undivided attention, because that is how he is, and you couldn’t handle hearing him saying no to you. He never used to say no to you.

“I had fun with just you guys, though!” They tackle you in a bear hug, and it feels nice. It really does, it’s just that you still have that nagging feeling in your gut. Like your professor is right. Like you’re alone.

*

Your next ‘Introduction To Creative Writing’ assignment is about characters. The rubric clearly states that it should just be about the people and nothing else. Points will actually be deducted if you mention a setting.

So you wrote two characters, a boy and a girl. The boy finds the girl too bland so he asks if she’ll share a secret with him. She thinks for a long time while the boy studies her face, and he loves every corner of it. Finally, she leans in to whisper something. You don’t tell the audience what she’s said, but you do tell them that it makes the boy laugh. Then he kisses her cheek and they laugh some more, until time dies out and the stars no longer shine. You liked it from the moment that you started writing it, and by the end it was something that you were genuinely quite proud of.

Apparently pride wasn’t enough to get you a much higher grade. It’s passed back looking exactly like the last one, a bright red C and thousands of red notations. You flip to the rubric in the back to see that everything is marked straight down the middle. 

You didn’t mention a setting, but you didn’t make the setting irrelevant.

Your characters didn’t interact with the setting, but they barely interacted with each other.

You included characters, but they were not lively and enjoyable.

And you’re not quite sure why everything you write is so dead. You’re not a person who feels dead, you’re funny and full of life. You have things to say that are important so you write them into stories rather than speaking them out loud. You’re good at this, so why are you getting C’s? Why is an old man with a beard that touches his belly button saying that you aren’t good at this? 

When you get back to your dorm you rip the paper to shreds and cry alone in your loft bed. Mingi texts you to ask when you’ll be at dinner, you tell him that you’re too busy with homework. He asks if he should bring you something, but you lie that it’s all covered. You’re not entirely sure that you could handle seeing him right now. 

When your roommate comes in she seems a little drunk. She clambers over to her bed then finally looks up to you. It’s not your finest moment, cheeks streaked with mascara and shreds of paper all around you.

“You okay?” She slurs out. You think that it’s a dumb question, because obviously you aren’t, but at least she’s trying. Trying is good.

“I’m fine” Right as the words come out you know that they sound fake, but you don’t know what else to do. Normally when you feel like this Mingi is just a phone call away. Every time you’ve tried to call him in the past week it’s gone to voicemail. When a week has really torn you down like this one you’d always have a movie night to look forward to. Mingi made it clear that he wasn’t too keen on that anymore. You usually have your shoulder to cry on. Now you don’t even think you’ll be able to keep yourself together if you see him.

And it’s hard for a lot of reasons. Because you need Mingi but Mingi doesn’t need you. Because everything feels so wrong unless you’re desperately trying to salvage your longest friendship. Because maybe this friendship meant a little bit more than just that, but you’ve realized entirely too late.

*

You usually wake up at seven thirty in the morning. It’s not because you want to, or because your roommate is too loud climbing into her bed at night, or because the sun comes into your dorm weirdly. You just go to sleep late, because you can’t force your brain to stop, then wake up early. Because out of all of the things that are going wrong, why wouldn’t you also get less than four hours of sleep every night?

But it’s not all bad. Every other morning you meet Hongjoong in the quad. Sometimes it’s with a book, sometimes with your latest creative writing assignment. He’ll read them and make comments. He always says that it’s good, and it’s fun to believe him for a little while. 

This morning you come to him empty handed, just like he said to last time. There’s supposed to be a surprise. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that you don’t like surprises. 

“Good morning, pretty lady!” He’s always so chipper in the mornings, with his eyes crinkling happily around the edges and bright red hair bouncing. Today he’s wearing a puffy coat that’s nearly ready to swallow him whole paired with jeans that have a painting sprawling up the calf. You had recently found out that he and Seonghwa were responsible for the illustrations on everyone's clothes. Mingi gave them his favorite jeans after two lunches spent in the cafeteria.

“Good morning.” You were clearly finding it hard to be as excited.

“Did you read the student newsletter yesterday?” Cold air puffs from his lips along with the words, and his face lights up when you shake your head no. The collar of his coat is brushing his cheeks, “So it’s really a surprise then!”

He’s so precious and childlike in that moment that you decide there’s no harm in indulging him.

“What’s really a surprise?” He’s already started walking so you have to do a half jog to catch up, once you’re at his side he starts to skip so that you have to jog even further. This happens every once in a while whenever your friend is feeling extra punchy. You often find it hard to match that energy, but something about this early November morning has you more present than ever.

“Catch up to me and I’ll let you know.” He reaches into his pocket and appears to pull something out, then hang it over his head. You know there’s nothing in his hand. It’s empty and you know that, nevertheless you chase after him. The boy laughs loudly before sprinting away. Once you’ve caught him you start jumping for the mythical gift hanging over his head, which he finds unreasonably funny. The sound rings off the brick path beneath your feet, and it’s like the sun is finally rising. You think that’s the kind of person that Hongjoong is, the kind that would bring the sun up just to make someone else smile. 

When you open his clenched hand he slips it into yours, fingers curling ever so gently around your own. His skin feels soft, it makes you wonder what kind of lotion he’s using.

“I caught up.” Your voice sounds small. Hongjoong thinks it’s bright, “What’s my surprise?”

“There are puppies in the quad, I think they’re up for adoption. I figured you’d like to see them.” He’s perfect. On paper Hongjoong should be the perfect boyfriend. He takes you to see puppies, buys you hot chocolate, makes you play in leaf piles, you’re pretty sure he’s redone his entire sleep schedule just so that you two can keep up with these morning strolls. You so badly want Hongjoong to be perfect.

But there’s just something off. Maybe it’s because his one hand can’t fully engulf both of yours, or because he doesn’t tower over you with what feels like two extra feet. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t smell like orange zest and freshly ground cinnamon. 

Maybe it’s because he’s not Song Mingi.

“I would like to see them.” You respond, squeezing onto the boy's hands. Hongjoong is perfect, but he’s just not right, “I’d like that very much.”

*

You’re not quite sure how it happened, but San seemed to notice that your Fridays were becoming more and more lonely. After that one Harry Potter movie night you did with him and Wooyoung in their shared apartment you’ve not really done anything. Hongjoong invited you to another house party, and you were going to go, but when you reached for the handle to exit your dorm you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Something about going and knowing that Mingi would be there, probably with his date of the week, made your mouth taste sour. So you stayed home instead, sitting in your bed and struggling with a creative writing assignment. You’d occasionally snack on some granola bars that Mingi stashed in the bottom of your closet when he moved you in.

Those were your plans for tonight, but San grabbed you just before class ended. He told you that Wooyoung was planning dinner but the recipe serves four so he figured that they could invite you and save the rest as leftovers. You agreed, fully expecting that you’d chicken out at the last second and stay home, yet here you are. Standing in their kitchen while sipping on a shirley temple that San mixed up for you, Wooyoung is occasionally stirring the simmering pot on the stove. San invited Hongjoong at the very last second so those two are sitting at the kitchen table and trying to talk each other's ears off. You find your way into the empty seat beside Hongjoong and let his hand rest on your thigh. He rubs gentle circles on your jeans, and it nearly gives you butterflies.

“Dinner is almost done, would you guys mind grabbing some drinks from the garage.” The two boys nod before scurrying towards the front door and shared garage. Wooyoung takes the seat across from you, “Do you think you’re gonna date him?”

“Who?” You ask, probably in a less defensive way than he’d anticipated.

“Hongjoong.” Wooyoung doesn’t look as playful as usual, the childlike glint gone from his eyes. If anything the boy appears worried, probably for his friend Hongjoong. Part of you wants him to be worried for you. You’ve barely eaten anything except for granola bars in the past week because you don’t want to risk running into Mingi in the cafeteria. Your five hours of sleep every night has been slowly dwindling down to four. Mingi has moved movie night twice this month. You still can’t get a good grade on a creative writing assignment. 

“I don’t know.” You think that you probably are. You think that you mostly want to.

“But you aren’t going to date Mingi?” It feels like the air around you is made of cotton, your mouth has gone completely dry.

You don’t know why you’re upset. You shouldn’t be upset.

“No.” There are tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You hope that if you breathe deeply enough then you can will them to stop, “I suppose I won’t.”

The dinner turns out lovely, but you can barely take a bite. You can barely even say another word for the rest of the night. You just tell  them thank you, it was lovely, then go home to finish your creative writing assignment. The professor is probably going to write a note that it’s lonely. That’s okay, though. It is lonely, because that’s what you are. Terribly, and irrevocably lonely.

*

A week after the dinner party you and San are partnered together on a creative writing assignment. The main goal is to learn how to work collaboratively with another author, not that you even considered yourself that, and it’s coming along nicely. There are just a few things that need to be cleaned up before it’s due, which prodded San to invite you out to coffee. At least you thought that’s what it was about, but when he takes his seat at the table there’s no laptop tucked beneath his arm.

“A-are we not working on the project?” You question softly, hands hovering idly over your keyboard. 

“I wasn’t planning to, but you... You can if you want to, I guess.” He drops his bags and heavy coat in the vacant seat before flipping through his wallet, “You ordered yet?” You shake your head no, you didn’t want him to show up and have you already be halfway done with your drink and then deal with the awkward conversation of how you showed up thirty minutes early because other than meeting Hongjoong in the morning this is the only thing on your social calendar for a week. After that you have movie night, “I’ll get you something. Coffee or tea?” 

“Coffee.” When the boy returns to the table, it’s with two steaming mugs, perfect for the frost bitten weather outside. Yours smells like vanilla and nutmeg.

“It’s the shop special I think.” He smiles gently, dimples on parade for the entire campus to see. You think that San has a nice smile, the kind that takes over his face, along with yours before you can even stop it.

“It’s nice, thank you.” Things are quiet for a second while San is putting away his wallet, and for some reason you’re confused. If you’re not going to work on the project then why on earth did he make the time to get coffee? 

“(Y/n?)” He asks softly, raising your attention from the untouched mug of coffee to where his hand is on the lid of your laptop, “Are you okay?”

“Yea, I’m good.” The words sound dismissive before they’ve even left your mouth, “Why did you ask to get coffee?” Sans eyebrows raise and he feels a small tug on his heart. He doesn’t understand why he wouldn’t want to spend time with you.

“Because I have free time and I wanted to spend it with you.” You’re not sure why, but it’s hard to hear that. Maybe because you’ve been hiding from life for as long as you can remember, or because you’ve had nothing but free time for a month and you’ve wanted to spend all of it with the one person that will hardly return your texts, or maybe because sometimes those words are hard to hear. 

“Oh.” You take a sip of the coffee, it makes your stomach feel warm for the first time in a long time, “Thank you.” San cracks his knuckles while offering up a gentle smile.

“No need to thank me, we’re friends.” 

“I guess that’s why I’m thanking you. I don’t have a lot of friends, if you hadn’t noticed.” The boy is looking at you with attentive eyes, and it feels like there’s something lodged in the back of your throat. It tastes like vanilla and nutmeg and thousands of wasted opportunities, “I used to have Mingi, but he’s so busy with all of the classes and... Dates, that we don’t really talk much. I’m grateful that I have you.” When San smiles it’s sweet and genuine and you feel like you are finally doing the whole college thing. The thing where you make growth.

“I’m grateful to have you too, you’re a sweet kid.” If you weren’t so touched you would remind him that he’s only one year older, “I don’t think any of Mingi’s dates have much substance, honestly.” Something about the way he says it makes you think that he’s not talking about the girls themselves. It makes your heart flip.

“How come?” As soon as the words leave your mouth you pray that they don't sound eager. San lets out a heavy sigh and you think that maybe your prayer worked.

“He just isn’t really satisfied with anything. There have been girls eyeing him since his first time in the cafeteria, but he didn’t care much for it. Now he’s decided to take them up on their offers, and yet he still doesn’t seem to care for it. We’ve all asked him what’s up but he won’t say much. Just that it’s not what he’s looking for.” There’s a pointed gaze that says a million things. Mingi hasn’t found what he’s looking for. Mingi is just as lost as you are. Maybe Mingi couldn’t find what he was looking for because it’s always been there. Maybe Mingi needs you as much as you need him.

“Oh. I didn’t know.” You leave the cafe that day with a smile on your face and hope fluttering around in your heart, and for the first time in a long time you think that maybe you can be happy.

*

You’ve been planning this night since the moment you stepped out of the campus cafe with San. It’s probably a little bit cheesy, with all of the contraband candles and what not, but Mingi always said that you went a little overboard on movie nights. Now you’re standing in the center of your empty dorm room, illuminated by tea light candles, wearing the dress that you wore when Mingi dragged you to your first ‘party,’ and your heart all the way in your throat. Because tonight is the night. Tonight you’re going to tell Mingi how you feel about him, and you’re not going to listen to the little voice in your head that says this is probably stupid, and that Mingi showing up over half an hour late is a bad sign. That voice is annoying and has made you wait too long for too many things.

So when Mingi walks into your dorm with rosy cheeks and windblown hair, you let your heart stutter. When his jaw drops open, you let yourself laugh, and when he takes a step forward, you do too.

“What’s this about?” He questions with a familiar deep voice that leaves warmth blossoming in your chest. 

“I just...” Your eyes lock onto the freckle on his neck before flashing back up to eyes. They’re sparkling in the flickering candle light, “I’ve missed you. Really badly, Mingi. I miss you in the mornings when I walk to class, I miss you at lunch when I get my granola bars from the closet, I miss you when I’m with my friends, I-I... I miss you on Friday nights. I spend all of my time missing you, and I don’t want to anymore. I’m tired of hiding how I feel about things, like I think that my creative writing assignments are stupid, and I hate everyone in sports medicine except for Wooyoung, and I miss you. A-and I think that I might love you, so I wanted to-” Mingi takes two steps forward, coming dangerously close to closing your distance, and you think that he’s about to kiss you. You think that you’re ready for him to kiss you. You’re heart is beating faster, then faster, then faster-

“Why are you doing this?” And then it stops dead. You honestly think that you might be dead. This feels worse than being dead.

“Um, d-doing- Doing what? I’m not doing anything, I thought you were-” You’re rambling and it’s so awful, Mingi knows it’s awful. His hands are massaging his temples as if this is insanely stressful. It kind of is, but you can’t figure out why he would think so.

“Why are you telling me that you love me? After not seeing each other for almost a month, why are you telling me that?” Clearly, this is not the way that you expected tonight to go. Several of the candles by your desk has burnt out, you feel like you’re about to cry, “I haven’t been lonely, (Y/n,) because I have a-” You feel tears tugging on your eyelids so hard that it hurts. Before you can think about it, and before you can hear whatever he has to say, your index finger is in between his eyes and you’re staring at him like you want to throw something out a window.

“Don’t say that.” It’s probably the most assertive you’ve ever been with him, “I just don’t understand why you’re fighting me on this.” Mingi takes a deep breath before running his hands through his hair. You wonder when he picked up on that habit, which person got to see this before you did. He looks handsome. You hate it. 

“I don’t understand why you get to want this now. I don’t understand how I have waited and waited for you to love me back for years, and once I’m finally done with letting you break my heart you get to decide that you want this. I don’t understand how that’s fair.” There are tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, but they’re different from the ones that you’ve seen before. They’re not like the ones he sheds over movies, these tears are angry and unwilling. 

“Mingi I-“ 

“Don’t say that you didn’t know. I know that you didn’t know, because you never wanted to know. You were too scared to know, but I was never scared. I’ve always known that we were right, and you were always scared.” It feels like your heart is trying to crawl up your throat in the worst way possible. Like it’s a spider that you swallowed. 

“Mingi that's not what-“ 

“But I can’t be with you (Y/n,) because I’m done with you being scared. I’ve been done with you being scared for years, and I'm finally okay with being done with you. Let me be okay, (Y/n.)'' There are now tears behind your eyes as well, but it’s not angry. It’s sad, because he’s right. You are really scared, it took months for you to work up the courage to admit to even yourself that you love Mingi.

“What are you saying?” The words are choked and staccato, tears spilling freely onto your cheeks. A brief look at his tear streaked face tells you that he’s known this answer for forever. 

“I’m saying that I can’t be with you right now. I just… Can’t.”

He leaves before he can see you sink to the tiled floor, or hide your face in your hands, or cry off all of the mascara you had put on just for tonight. Just so that you could bat your eyelashes at him and give him love until the sun came up. Just so that you could give him your love like flowers and a candle lit room.

But you don’t get to do that. You put on mascara for no reason. Mingi doesn’t want your love, he doesn’t want your candle lit room. He gave your flowers back, and they’re just going to sit on your nightstand until time takes her toll on them. Until they wilt and wither and all of the petals fall onto the floor. You don’t know if you’ll have the strength to sweep them up.

It’s not clear when you start crying, but it is clear that you never stop. You cry for hours and hours until you finally pull yourself off the floor and into your bed. The candles burn themselves into darkness. The room smells a bit like ash. Your blankets are warm. Your chest aches. Mingi is gone. You are scared and you’re alone. You probably always will be.

* 

You’re not sure when food lost its taste. When your room lost its color. When your legs became too heavy to move. When sleep became extinct. When it was easier to be in the library than it was to be in your own room. When every single one of your grades sky rocketed to an A while creative writing sat heavily at a C. You can’t watch Star Wars anymore without wanting to throw up. Strawberry ice cream tastes like poison.

You’d fallen asleep on a desk in the back of the library twice before Yunho found you. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do seeing as it was the middle of the day and no one had heard from you for a week and a half except for San, but he figured that leaving a hot coffee by your sleepy head seemed to suffice. If you were tired enough to fall asleep in the library it was probably much needed.

He thought that he’d just forget about that encounter, sweep it quietly under the rug and hope that you started getting more sleep. It was going well enough, until he arrived here. One week later, ten minutes before midnight, you in the same exact position as last time. There were tear tracks in your makeup and black smudged beneath your eyes. He could see the assignment peeking out from beneath your folded arms, ‘Study In Relationships,’ no doubt for creative writing. There are only two words that aren’t covered in black scribbles. You let a gentle snore, and he knows that it’s time to wake you up. To talk to you.

“(Y/n?)” He whispers while gently nudging your shoulder. You grumble ever so slightly before snatching the unfinished assignment back to rest beneath your head. Another small grunt leaves your lips before he calls out your name again, shaking you with a bit more force than the last time. Your eyes flutter open gently and take in the tan walls and fluorescent lighting before you fully register that Yunho is there. 

“Hey,” Your voice is gruff around the edges, and you know that if you say too much everything is going to fall apart, “good to see you.” His eyes take you in, sweatpants with countless stains, a hoodie that has a little hole forming in the armpit, your hair disheveled and greasy. He knew that something bad had happened when Mingi came back to the dorm about two weeks ago with tear filled eyes and an unwillingness to talk. You stopped showing up to any of the meals after that, even Hongjoong couldn’t get a hold of you. The blue haired boy would be lying if he said he didn’t worry for you in passing, but all of those concerns were brought to a forefront at the sight of you now. You look, and he means this in the nicest way possible, like a disaster. 

“Yea, i-it’s good to see you too.” His hands fiddle with the hem of his sweatshirt, busying themselves so that he doesn’t start to pack up for you, “The library is closing.” Your eyebrows furrow as you suddenly remember where you are. 

“Oh. I-I’ll get this cleaned up then.” You don’t know why, but asking him to help feels wrong. You’d like help, but something about his pitying eyes makes you feel small. The same way that you did when those boys pushed you off of your hot pink bike. Like he’s pitying you, except now there’s no lanky kid to save you.

Yunho ends up offering the smallest amount of help possible, just slipping your pencil into your bookbag, before helping you stand. The room swims for a minute before you can walk.

“Can I walk you back to your dorm?” You don’t know how to tell him that most nights you don’t go back to the dorms after the library kicks you out. Most nights you plop down on a bench in the quad and slave over your creative writing journal. Most nights you don’t crawl back into your room until four in the morning, when your roommate is dead asleep and can’t ask you if you’re okay, “Just don’t want you walking back alone in the dark.”

And really, what are you supposed to say?

“Yea, that’s fine.” The two of you walk in silence for a wall, nothing except for the rhythm of padding feet and rustling tree branches. Early winter air nips the tops of your ears while Yunho shivers beside you. You hear him miss a step and you feel yourself choke on a thousand words. 

“We’ve missed you.” You don’t respond with the question that you desperately want to ask. You don’t ask if everyone misses you. If a certain boy that smells of cinnamon and eyes that glimmer like childhood misses you. 

“Yea. I’ve missed you guys too.” The silhouette of your dorm building is slowly coming into view, you think that it looks different when the world is still awake. Some windows are still lit, people are drawing curtains shut. Normally when you come home everything is dark and unbelievably cold. This isn’t anything special, but it’s a whole lot better than that, “This is me.” You say tersely while slowing to a stop in front of the looming building.

“Yep.” You can tell that he wants to ask you something. Maybe it’s why you were asleep in the library, or why depression wears you like a necktie, or why he hasn’t seen you in the cafeteria for a month in a half. He wants to ask you something, but the way his lips close around the consonant tells you that he won’t.

You get halfway into the door before something tugs at your heart strings, “Yunho?” You call out, turning halfway over your shoulder to see his eyes trained on you. They look sad. You think that it makes sense why, “Thank you.” 

He nods curtly, and you know that he’s not sure why you’re thanking him. It’s okay though, because at least you know that he misses you. Before tonight, you thought no one missed you.

Sleep is as rare as ever that night, yet the thing that lulls you to sleep is the same as always. Floppy brown hair, clapping hands, a bad CGI explosion playing off of a crackly VHS tape. He smells like cinnamon and orange rinds, yet when you inhale it’s nothing but your dusty dorm room.

*

The end of the semester means wrapping up many loose ends. You pack up every coat and Christmas themed clothing item in your closet, notably avoiding the dress that you wore for Mingi. You meet Hongjoong for coffee and exchange presents, a pair of customized jeans for you and a twenty five dollar visa gift card for him. He smiled really wide when you told him that it was to make up for all of the coffees and meaningless conversation. You drop the level two creative writing class that was on your schedule. San makes a plan to meet up over the holiday and you agree wholeheartedly. Finals week isn’t all too bad seeing as you’re already getting less than four hours of sleep a night and funneling every bit of brain power into school. The only thing that’s left for you to do is turning in your creative writing assignment, which is both the easiest task and the one that you want to do least. 

The classroom is dead empty when you enter, not even your white bearded professor in sight. You scurry down the steps with the short story in hand, a meaningless piece about two strangers who share misty mornings. You hate it, just like you’ve grown to hate almost everything that you create, but it’s an assignment. It meets the bare minimum for what’s required on your rubric. You finished it.

“Miss (Y/n?)” Your body freezes in the middle of the final step before stuttering slowly back to normal. It probably looks stupid but you barely have the will to care, seeing as the thing that you were most dreading was happening. Your creative writing professor is standing at the top of the classroom with his long beard and judgmental eyes, and you are standing in front of his desk with shaky knees. 

“O-oh, hi! I was just turning in-”

“Why aren’t you enrolled in my class next semester?” You take in a breath, the air as thick as soup. You don’t know how to answer his question. You don’t want to answer his question. Answering his question feels like letting go of a piece of yourself.

“Oh, I-I dropped it. It’s just that I have other classes I need to take, a-and I’m not all that good so…” Your professor nods before furrowing his bushy eyebrows and starting slowly down the stairs. Each of his forward steps causes your heart to thump. 

“Who said that you aren’t good?” He questions, continuing down the steps. You clench the assignment in your hands and watch as the paper creases beneath your thumbs. When you look at the pages they’re clear, nothing but your words and margins, but when you think about what it’ll look like in a week you want to cry. It’ll be marked in red, with a fat red ‘C’ circled on the title page.

“I-I just, I never thought, Y-you said-” The professor is now standing in front of you with folded hands, his expression of confusion shifted into concern.

“I never said that you aren’t good.” You  breathe in again, the air thin enough to actually intake this time around. 

“You didn’t?” He shakes his head before pulling the crinkled assignment out of your hands.

“No, you show great promise as a writer! Your writing is… lacking, but it’s only in one area that can be easily improved upon. No great writers start out great, but all great authors show their flaws at one point.” Tears prickle the back of your eyelids, and it feels like there’s a little hand grappling onto whatever you thought you’d have to let go. 

“Miss (Y/n,) I’m trying to say that failure is okay. Getting less than a ‘B’ on your paper is okay, but you can’t stop trying.” He’s right, a part of you has known for a while that he’s right. Just because you got a bad grade in this class doesn’t mean that you’re bad at writing. Just because Mingi said no doesn’t mean that you’ll never feel deeply again. It just means that you need to keep trying.

“Oh, um… Thank you.” You’re not sure what else to say. There honestly isn’t much else to say, so you give him a short nod and head towards the stairs. You think that you’re going to head back to the dorm and cry on your bed, which is stripped of its duvet and most of the pillows. You think that you’re going to ask if you can have this class added back to your schedule. You think that you might speak with Hongjoong more often once your break is over. 

And sure enough, your spring semester begins with Hongjoong walking you across campus and to your second level creative writing class. The month away seems to have done good for the both of you, Hongjoong returning with dozens more customized clothing items and you with slowly disappearing eye bags. His hair is also faded into a lighter pink shade, which you think suits him quite well. 

Your walk to class is uneventful, riddled with small talk and basic catching up. Near the end he slips his arm beneath your book bag and around your waist, which feels nice enough. His arms are stronger than you expected. The half embrace is not unwelcome. When you two are standing outside of the quickly filling classroom he takes your hands into his own for a brief moment before asking if you’re free for coffee after class. You want to make up an excuse for why you can’t go, because you know that this isn’t just two friends going for coffee, but when you look at Hongjoong there are sparkles in his eyes. Pink hair tickles his cheekbone as he smiles warmly at you, and you find yourself thinking that his confidence right now is commendable. You also find yourself saying yes, you can definitely get coffee with. 

It’s a fun outing. He cracks a few jokes, you talk about class. He asks if you have any assignments and you say not yet. When he orders an iced coffee you ask if he’s trying to get frostbite, to which he laughs and pokes out his tongue. You think that he looks cute. You think that all of this is kind of cute. 

You also think that when you’re with Hongjoong, and he’s making you laugh and holding your waist, it’s very easy to forget about how badly you miss Mingi. 

*

When you agreed to re-enroll in your creative writing class you and your professor exchanged a number of emails. First about how you could improve your grade, then about how to improve your writing, then countless of other questions with ambiguous answers before the two of you finally settled on having weekly meetings. It would be sort of like he were your personal advisor, but only for writing. You would come into his office once a week to discuss your current project and he would read it over, ask if you had concerns, usually give some feedback. 

Within the first week it was clear what your most reoccurring critique would be. It was a mantra echoed many times, ‘To write life you have to live it.’ He said that your writing was good, pretty, but the characters lacked life. Then he asked if you could try to spend a little more time with people. It didn’t have to be much, but he was convinced that a bit more people time would improve your writing greatly. 

It’s been a month or so since that first meeting, and you weren’t sure if you agreed yet. You were spending almost everyday with Hongjoong, sometimes Seonghwa as well. You were definitely more tired each time you came home, but you also smiled more. Laughed more, too. They would often ask you for help with silly things, like the time that Hongjoong called you at midnight because he needed help touching up his hair, Seonghwa often asked you to mix his paints. It often felt like you were their third roommate, but it was okay. You had fun. 

Yet you didn’t see much improvement in your writing. There were still notes in red ink on your paper. You weren’t sure of the remedy you should apply, but more people time seemed like it wouldn’t hurt. So you set up daily lunches with Yeosang and Jongho, which was an interesting dynamic to say the least. Jongho would sit down most days and chug an entire reusable cup of green tea with soy milk before getting lunch, to which Yeosang would furrow his eyebrows and comment ‘I don’t know how he drinks that.’ Usually the younger boy would talk animatedly with you about classes then he’d ask if Yeosang had anything going on. Your dark haired friend would look up from his half inhaled plate of food with deep set eye bags and say that he had at least three papers to write. One time you asked if he was okay, but he just laughed and blamed it on his major. After that your writing seemed to improve greatly, at least according to your professor. He told you that it was starting to come alive much quicker. The only thing he had left to say was that your more gentle characters needed work. He said that they needed to be more than just gentle.

Running into Yunho in the library after that meeting was pure coincidence. You were headed to the back to start cracking down on some of your more challenging classes, namely entrance level biology, yet when you dropped your bag on your usual study table you noticed someone was already there. 

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’ll just-”

“(Y/n?)” He asked while turning to face you. It suddenly hit you that the last time Yunho had seen you was while you were at your absolute worst. Not sleeping, or eating, or talking to anyone but yourself. You don’t know if he’s going to let that version of you go. You only know how badly you want him to. 

“Yea, it’s me.” The words tug on your vocal chords so you cough lightly in an attempt to clear them, “How are you doing?” He twirls the blue gel pen in his hand for a moment before responding.

“I’m okay. The usual kind of busy, my room’s been messy lately. Just normal stuff.” Quiet settles over your conversation so that you’re left standing awkwardly in front of his neatly organized table. You’re not sure why you can’t bring yourself to speak, but you are sure that it has something to do with the fleeting thoughts of the boy that Yunho’s sharing that messy room with, “What’re you working on?” He asks, motioning with his gel pen to the stuffed folder in your hands.

“O-oh just some biology stuff, I have a quiz next week so…” Before you can say otherwise he’s clearing off a spot on the table and telling you to pull up a chair. He helps you with pretty much every half finished assignment. He even adds extra cheat codes onto your flash cards in crisp blue ink. As you’re leaving the library to get dinner with Hongjoong he tells you to meet him back here after your quiz.

“After all, I’d like to know how my best student is doing.” Weekly study sessions honestly come about naturally. He insists that he’s beyond happy to help, and you’re beyond happy to observe him. Listening to him talk is your favorite part. He’ll ramble on about a lab or being worried that someones going to steal his bike from in front of the dorms. He tells you that he thinks Hongjoong will ask you out, you tell him that you know. He says that your handwriting is pretty, you thank him. When he talks about things that make him angry his words are gentle and calculated, so as not to hurt people that aren’t even present. Needless to say, the red ink marks are few and far between after factoring this newfound knowledge into your pieces.

But you think that it’s a bit more than that too. For the first time in… Ever, you think, you’re happy. Not in a fleeting way that depends on strawberry ice cream eaten on Friday nights. You’re happy in a way that’s hard to tumble, and you’re happy in a way that’s without Mingi. You never thought that you would be happy without Mingi. All throughout high school you feared this very thing, having to live without him and be okay with it. Now that you’re doing it, it’s not all that scary.

You still see Mingi around campus from time to time, in curls of chestnut hair and broad shoulders. Sometimes when you’re walking to class with Hongjoong you can hear his laugh bouncing from the surrounding buildings. Part of you wonders if you’re just conjuring him up. Part of you wonders when it’ll stop. 

Hongjoong does ask you out, just like Wooyoung, and Yunho, and everyone predicted. You say yes. You laugh with your friends until your sides hurt. You share kisses with your boyfriend. You start to feel excited about life in a way that you never have, and a part of you honestly wonders if this whole thing with Mingi was just a growing pain. Something that needed to happen in order for you to change.

The aching of your chest at night says otherwise. But believing as much is easier to stomach.

*

You’re relaxing at Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s house when a nerve is struck. You'd been sitting at the table chatting with Seonghwa while Hongjoong made himself something for lunch. It was really an accident, you had just been telling Seonghwa about your study session with Yunho when he got onto the topic about an awkward study date he had been on recently. You laughed as he recounted it and assured him that a study date was a cute first date.

“I’m sure it’s not as cute as whatever you and Hongjoong did.” And that’s when it happens. The chord is played, the line is written, and Hongjoong was looking at you with wide, apologetic eyes, “Y-you did have a good first date, right?” Your boyfriend said nothing, just bit his lower lip and returned his attention to the stove, “You’ve been dating for a month, you had to have had a first date. Right?”

“I’m sure that we will.” The tension that followed your meek statement was painstaking. First Hongjoong inhaled sharply through his nose, then Seonghwas mouth pressed into a thin line while his eyebrows raised. He muttered some nonsense about needing to get started on his painting for realism class. Apparently he was in such a rush to leave that he forgot that he wasn’t even taking a realism class, “Look, Joong we don’t have to-”

“Do you want a cutesy first date?” He asked, turning away from his food once again so that his eyes could bore into your own. You weren’t sure if his voice was stern in that moment or sincere, either way it was maddeningly effective.

“I mean… It would be nice.” He raised an eyebrow and nodded with his tongue in his cheek before returning to his food. Once it’s done and the fragrance is drifting from his workplace and towards the table, he takes the seat across from you. You’re about to say something but then he presses a swift kiss onto your lips.

“Then you, my darling, are getting just that.” 

A cutesy first date, with your sweet boyfriend who brings you tons of joy. It sounds great in theory, except for the fact that it’s been a week since your conversation and he still refuses to tell you when or where the date will be. Some may say that it’s romantic, but you say that it’s stressful. Pretty much every time that you leave your dorm room you end up seeing Hongjoong, so pretty much every time that you leave the dorm room you’re fully dressed and ready to go out. You’re starting to think that he’s finding joy in your suffering. It’s not too drastic of a belief, seeing as every time that you open your dorm room in a new outfit he giggles and whispers ‘cute.’ 

The miniature cat and mouse game finally comes to an end about a week and a half later, when he texts you Friday morning that you should wear something cute today and to be ready for pick up at five thirty. Though, the suffering doesn’t really end because in reality you spend the entire day raking through your closet for anything that could possibly make a cute outfit. There’s the cursed red plaid dress that you wore to that house party and awful confession oh so many months ago. You figured that was a no go, but honestly what else did you even have? There’s a uniform skirt that you bought while thrifting with Hongjoong, but you weren’t sure what shirt to wear with it. Your favorite jeans were in the wash so those obviously weren’t an option. It looked like it was going to have to be that dumb little dress.

But it’s not so bad, you manage to pair it with a black cardigan and the pair of leather boots that your mom got you for Christmas to replace the old ones. You also do more makeup than last time, so it really doesn’t look all that similar. When you look in the mirror before answering Hongjoongs knock you’re barely even thinking about the last night that you wore the dress. You’re thinking about tonight… Mostly about tonight.

You open the door to see your boyfriend wearing a black button up and blue hair that catches you off guard. His hands are shoved cutely into his pockets, you can see his thumbs twiddling from inside his jean pockets. The moment that his eyes take in your frame his face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s a familiar smile at this point, he wears it around you constantly.

“You look amazing.” He says beneath his breath. You watch with twinkling eyes as he examines every one of your features, your smiles growing with each passing moment.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You're not sure what to do past this point. He’s said that you look nice, you’ve internally fawned over his new hair that looks so incredibly soft, you’ve looked each other once or twice and smiled. You don’t know if you’re supposed to kiss him now, or hold his hand, or what. This is all quite new, “Um, should we get going?” He looks back at your face with a jump, as though your question had pulled him out of something. You’re going to ask what, but you aren’t quite sure how to get the words out. 

“Yes, yea! I-I’ll lead the way.” After five minutes of walking around your familiar campus you arrive at the shuttle. You’ve only taken it once or twice in your time here, mainly to get to Hongjoong’s house at the edge of campus, but you do know that on weekends it will take you into the nearby city. There’s only one seat left by the time that you get on, so of course Hongjoong let’s you have it and opts to stand instead. 

“You can sit if you want to.” He immediately shuts down your offer with a quick peck to your lips and a sweet giggle that you’ve grown to adore. 

“It’s our first date, I can’t have you thinking that I’m anything less than a gentleman.” If he weren’t so endearing you’d point out that you’ve been together for over a month. But he is endearing, so you only laugh and take hold of his hand. 

The date ends up being pretty much perfect. He takes you to a small cat cafe that’s tucked away on the downtown streets of the city, something that you didn’t even know existed until this very night. The inside is fully decorated in light pink with white lighting that highlights your adorable boyfriends features. He’s so sweet the whole time, smiling and letting the cats curl up in lap. The two of you share a piece of cake, he smears a little bit of the stiff frosting onto your nose. It’s cute. Sweet. You return to the dorm room with hot cheeks and a bashful grin.

“I had a lot of fun.” You say to him while leaning up against the doorframe of your dorm room. He smiles, but it’s different from the smile that you usually see. He’s usually so confident and sure of himself, but in this fleeting moment you can see unsureness in his features. It’s almost like he didn’t think you’d like the date.

“Yea?” You nod as quickly as he can ask. It’s not clear why, but you feel the need to assure him that you enjoyed your time together, “I’m glad. We could do something like this every week, you know?” 

The response isn’t as quick this time, or as adamant. You want to say yes. You had fun tonight, you enjoy spending time with Hongjoong, you want to say yes. But there’s something holding you back. It’s gentle, tugging on your heartstrings like a haunting winter melody. It tastes of strawberry ice cream, and smells of Song Mingi’s basement. You still remember the first time that he proposed a weekly movie night, all those years ago. You still remember how wanted it made you feel. At times you wonder if anyone will make you feel as wanted as Mingi did.

You’re starting to wonder that now, even as Hongjoong catches his thumb beneath your chin so as to tilt your chin up. The thoughts don't waver until your eyes meet, and you think that you’re probably right. No one will make you feel as wanted as Mingi; but Hongjoong does make you feel wanted. It’s not as overwhelming as Mingi. It’s not as safe as Mingi. It’s not as fateful as Migni. But it is there.

“What do you think? About the weekly thing, I mean. Like how does that sound?” Mingi was everything to you. In many ways he is still, but he’s also gone. Hongjoong is most things, but at least he’s here.

“It sounds lovely.”

*

You’ve spent a lot of time thinking in the past few weeks, pretty much ever since Hongjoong started with the dates. It’s mostly when you come back to your dorm after them and lay belly up on your loft bed, eyes glazing over the ceiling tiles that you’re pretending to count. Sometimes you think about Hongjoong, the way that his smile overpowers his face. The way that he laughs whenever he flusters you. The way he takes time out of his week to plan these cute little dates with you. Sometimes you think about Hongjoong. But most of the time you don’t. 

Most of the time you find your thoughts wandering far out of reach, and most of the time they wander straight into Song Mingi. It starts with thinking that you miss his presence, the way that he jumps to help anyone with anything. The way that his eyes shine each time you call out his name. You miss the way that he gives hugs, all warm and inviting. Some nights if you focus hard enough you can even remember the way that he smells. Orange zest and cinnamon.

If you’re honest with yourself, you know that this isn’t fair to Hongjoong. You like him well enough, but he adores you. He calls you darling and kisses you as though the action is sacred. He always walks you home after every date even though his own house is so far away. In theory, he is perfect. You’ve been dating for close to two months, you should be fully head over heels by now. But you can’t give that to him, and you know it. You also know that you can’t be alone again.

“Darling?” Hongjoong questions, pulling you away from your thoughts and back into the present. The two of you are cuddled into a far corner of the couch, midday sun pouring through the tall windows and landing across your boyfriend's face. You were watching the light dance in his eyes and talking about your latest creative writing meeting, but then he started talking about having another dinner party at the house. He said that it’d be like the one that he and Seonghwa hosted at the beginning of the school year, where you came with Mingi. It’s kind of funny honestly, because he regards that as one of the nights where he first started to like you. You regard it as one of the nights where Mingi first started to hate you, “Is everything okay?”

You should tell him no, because that’s the truth. You’re not okay. You don’t know if you’ll ever get over Mingi. You don’t think that you’ll ever love Hongjoong the way that he so clearly loves you. You shouldn’t lie to him. You should tell him no.

You also shouldn’t be alone again, right?

“Yea! I’m just tired. That’s all.”

*

In retrospect, you should’ve asked Hongjoong to not invite Mingi to this house party. It would’ve sounded odd, sure. As far he knew you and Mingi were still friendly. Had you requested that Mingi wouldn’t be invited you probably would’ve ended up having to rehash the entirety of your history. It would probably leave your boyfriend questioning whether or not you still had feelings for Mingi, a question that you’d have to lie through your teeth to answer. It would’ve been a little bit awkward, sure. But at least you wouldn’t be where you are now.

You fall gracelessly onto Hongjoongs unmade double bed, hands flying up to cover your flustered face. Mingi arrived at the off campus house nearly two hours after all of the other guests. There was an small window where you thought that you were safe, in which you took time to talk with San and Wooyoung while grazing over the cheese board that Seonghwa had set out. You felt like a true adult in that narrow window, the kind that works a nine to five job and deals with their problems. Then Mingi arrived. Two hours late.

You watched carefully as his eyes bounced around the room. They landed first on Yunho, who engulfed the boy in a warm hug before returning to his previous conversation. Then they traveled to the sectional couch in the living room where Seonghwa sat with Yeosang. He offered them a short greeting while walking through the living room, face crinkling with laughter at something that Yeosang had said. You find it comforting that after so much time apart his laughter hasn’t changed. He filtered naturally out of the conversation before moving to stand beside the tv. You watched his eyes move deftly across the open floor plan and began to wonder what he’s looking for so eagerly. Maybe it’s the girl from his math class. Maybe it’s someone entirely different. His gaze wandered and wandered, covering every corner that it could reach before finally landing. Before finally landing on you.

His eyes were piercing yet kind, stripping away the facade that you had previously believed. You aren’t an adult. You’re a little girl that got pushed off of her barbie bike and had to have a lanky preteen come to her rescue. You’re the idiot who lit dozens of tea light candles in her dorm room just to be turned away. It feels like you’re being stripped of your skin, but it also feels like you’re being reminded of yourself.

“Are you okay?” Jongho asked. You were so occupied with Mingi that you didn’t even realize he had joined. His question was sobering though, pulling you back to the harsh reality that you are okay. And you’re okay without Mingi.

“Yea, I’m fine.” You tore your focus back to the group in front of you, who were all staring at you. They clearly didn’t buy your answer, and you didn’t blame them too much. Anyone who didn’t know you could see that you were distressed, so clearly three of your close friends could tell, “I-I just realized that I have a paper due tonight. I’m gonna go finish it in Hongjoong’s room.” 

You now find yourself praying that Hongjoong won’t try to come and find you. You don’t know how to lie about this to him. You don’t know how to look him in the eyes and make up a reason for why you freaked out and left the party. By some terrible coincidence the door handle starts to jiggle. You want to say that you think through all of the possibilities of what you’ll say to him, but in reality there’s only one option of what you’ll say. The truth. If Hongjoong were to come into his room right now and ask what’s wrong you would have to tell him the truth. That you love Mingi.

“Hey honey, I had a paper to finish and-” The person that comes through the narrow doorway is much taller than your boyfriend. His shoulders are broader. The slope of his nose goes down further. Even from here you can smell brown sugar and oranges, “Oh. It’s you.” He looks handsome as ever. His cheeks may be a bit slimmer, the bags beneath his eyes are a bit deeper, but he still looks like Mingi. His face is still your childhood.

“Yea. It’s me.” Silence falls over the room, squeezing tightly around the chords of your throat to the point where you think that they’re going to break, “I-I just saw you come in here and-”

“I have a paper.” He swallows harshly, hands shoving into his pockets as his eyes stay glued to the floor. You find that bit funny, seeing as when you were outside he wanted to look nowhere but you.

“Right. A paper. I’ll leave you to that, then.” He’s moving to leave, and in that moment you know nothing. You’re not entirely sure what your name is, or where left is in relation to right, but you do know one thing. You don’t want Mingi to leave. You don’t want him to leave. He’s barely been here for two minutes. You haven’t said a single thing that you wanted to say. He can’t leave.

“Wait!” The boy stops in his tracks before turning. His eyes finally meet yours again, they’re  questioning and so gentle that you almost think things could go back to normal, “I don’t have a paper due tonight. Well, I do but I did it two days ago. It’s just that when I saw you I-I… I panicked. Probably because we haven’t seen each other in months. Probably because I really, really, miss you.” Your eyes are slowly becoming tearful, but you really don’t want them to be. You’ve shed so many tears over this relationship. You should be able to do this. The fact that he’s not saying anything doesn’t make it any easier, but still. You should be able to do this, “You don’t have to say anything, I guess, but I-I’m glad that I said it. You were my best friend, I’ll always think of you in that way. I know that we’ve both said… Things, and I get that you might not be able to move past that, but I’m willing to. If it means that we can be friends again, I’m willing to.” Your eyes somehow became glued to your twiddling thumbs over the course of your speech. You don’t think that you’re going to move them, until you feel a pair of strong arms embracing you. He smells so good, like he always does. This one hug feels like all of the comfort that you’ve craved for the last six months. Like the comfort that only Mingi can bring you.

“I’ll move past it. I-I’ve missed you too.” His voice is low, crackling like a fresh log that’s been thrown into the fireplace. You spend the following two hours in Hongjoongs room. You’re curled up on the bed and he’s in front of the disheveled desk. It’s dodgy, you know that it is, but something about really being here with Mingi makes you forget about all of that mess. It’s much easier to forget about it. You eventually return to the party, floating in between conversations with all of your friends. It’s nice to not have to avoid Mingi. At one point Hongjoong joins your conversation with Mingi, San, and Wooyoung. He puts an arm around your waist, which you should enjoy. You would like to enjoy it, but your mind is slightly preoccupied. 

“Where’d you go earlier, darling?” He whispers into your ear halfway through a drawn out story that San is sharing. He’s always been awful at telling stories, but he gets so excited that everyone lets it slide. 

“Oh! I just had a paper that I needed to finish, so I went and did that in your room.” He wants to ask why you had to do that with Mingi, but then the other boy starts to laugh and he knows the answer. Based entirely off of the way that you look at him, Hongjoong knows. 

Once everyone has left and you’ve all shared your goodbyes, Hongjoong suggests that the two of you clean up the living room together. It was an hour or so of silence before he brought up the elephant in the room. 

“I’m not it for you. Am I?” You don’t know why you thought he’d be angry with you. Probably because he’d have every reason to be so. But this is Hongjoong. You could single handedly send the world into ruin and Hongjoong still wouldn’t get mad at you. 

“I really want you to be.” You’ve stopped cleaning now, hands lying limp over the small stain that you were previously scrubbing off of the couch. Getting dumped isn’t going at all how you always thought that it would. It doesn’t feel like your heart is being trampled. You don’t have the compulsive urge to cry. No, none of that. It just feels like you’re explaining away a weight that’s been on your chest for months, “Does that make sense?”

“I think that you wish you wanted me. I think that you wanted me more than you wanted to be alone.” He’s started to play with the strings of his hoodie in a hopeless attempt to calm his raging heart, “But you’re not alone anymore, are you?” You could pretend that you don’t know what he’s talking about. You could deny it, but in reality there’s no point to any of that. It would only prolong all of this, so you nod, “Yeah. Thought so.”

When you say goodbye to him he hugs you tighter than usual, you think for a minute that he’s going to tell you something else. He doesn’t. Just kisses your forehead and says to get home safely. You do, it’s a mere twenty minutes before you’re tiptoeing into your dorm room and up the ladder to your bed. It almost gets to the point where you pretend to count ceiling tiles, but then your phone buzzes from beneath your pillow. It’s a text from Mingi, a short and sweet message.

‘I’m glad to be your friend:)’ 

It’s probably stupid, seeing as the night ended on a terribly sour note, but those few words and that silly emoticon makes it feel like this entire year has been worth it. Because you have Mingi again, and there’s no way that you’ll lose him this time around.

*

After the breakup with Hongjoong, you were slightly worried that no one would want to be friends with you anymore. It would certainly be a fair decision on their part, seeing as you were beyond awful as a girlfriend. You thought that in Hongjoong’s healing, he would end up telling some of the worst things that you did to some of the people whose opinions matter the most. You’re not sure why you thought that, perhaps because it’s what you would’ve done if someone did this to you.

You’re more immature than he is, though. Hongjoong handles his feelings with grace. His words are unbelievably careful whenever he shares them, or at least that’s what Seonghwa says. He also says that he misses having you around to mix his paints and clean his brushes. You had told him that you were just glad that he still likes you, even if the wounds were only a month old.

There was also the ever present worry that Mingi would ask why you and Hongjoong split. You’ve thought of plenty of fake reasons, like saying that the two of you didn’t really click. Or you could keep it simple and say that it just wasn’t the right time for either of you. The options were endless, but there was the problem of Mingi being able to read you like an open book. He would surely know that you’re lying, possibly before you even opened your mouth. The main risk involved was whether or not he’d pester you for the truth. 

That constant fear was not helpful for a regrowing relationship, to say the least. You’ve hung out a number of times since reuniting, but he would always ask you about what you did in the months that you spent apart. Obviously, mentioning the end of first semester was strictly off limits. The rest of the time you spent with Hongjoong, so that left very little room for conversation. You would mostly end up talking about your creative writing meetings, which was fine. It was just sparse.

But this weekend would be different. The two of you had made plans nearly two weeks ago to carpool home together after spring midterms for the long weekend. Your immediate response was to panic, because what on earth would the two of you talk about for the hours that it took to drive home? How would you possibly avoid talking about any of your life for the past four months for that long? But as the days drew closer you realized that maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. The two of you used to go on fun drives constantly, and most of the time you’d barely talk at all. This would be fine. You could manage this.

He picks you up an hour after the exams are concluded, and much to your gratitude there’s music already blaring from each of the speakers. He motions through the window for you to put your bags in the backseat, which you do before sliding into the front seat of his car. 

“Hey.” He’s looking at you with a soft smile when he says this, the gentleness of his face juxtaposed against the disney channel music blaring from the speakers is enough to make you laugh. So you do, the sound falling from your lips in a way that reminds Mingi of how dearly he missed it.

“Hi.” You stare at him for a minute, and he stares back. You find yourself thinking that all of this is mighty odd. Just two months ago you didn’t think that you’d ever have the strength to talk about Mingi again, now the two of you are sitting in the same car, “We’re listening to High School Musical?” He laughs too, passing his phone into your lap while shaking his head of brown curls.

“For now yes, you can change it if you’d like.” If you didn’t know him then you would’ve missed the twinkle in his eyes which indicated that he was going to continue, “Only if it’s Hannah Montana, though.” 

The ride was full with playful banter and off key high notes. Each time Mingi would go to hit one he’d tilt his head back ever so slightly, the brake lights of the car in front of you catching on the delicate lines of his adams apple as he did so. You would laugh until you had to clench your stomach then chastise him for not keeping his eyes on the road. He never once tried to ask about what you’ve been up to, or ask about Hongjoong. In a way, you almost forgot about it for the long hours that it took to drive into your hometown. Mingi seemed to have that effect, like walking through a museum of all of the things that he made you feel for the beginning of your lifetime. Comforted. Carefree. Joyful.

The car slows down then turns, and even if you weren’t looking up you’d know exactly where this car was headed. It’s the place that you spent every late friday night, the place where burgers couldn’t be served without a milkshake on the side, the place where Mingi first knew that he would always love you no matter how hard he ran from it. The chrome on the outside of the diner looks exactly the same, and when you peer through the windows it’s even more familiar. Red cushioned seats, a jukebox in the corner, salt and pepper in mismatched porcelain dispensers on each table. It feels like you’re coming from a football game with sweaty hair and a quickly beating heart. It feels like you’re still a kid.

“Are you hungry?” You ask teasingly as Mingi turns off the car and undoes his seatbelt. He runs a hand through his hair, laughing lowly.

“More like thirsty, milkshakes on me?” You know how this is going to end. You know what paying for food and offering up rides indicates. You know that this could crash and burn and leave you utterly devastated for months. But you also know that you’ve changed. That you’re finally done living a loveless life in honor of your own comfort. You think that he’s changed too, less bitter now. You’re both finished with hurting each other, so maybe it could end up hurting exactly the way that it did last time. Maybe it’ll end up working out. The fact of the matter is that you’ll never know what falling feels like unless you jump.

“Milkshakes on you.” You respond with a purely happy smile. He smiles too, the kind that breaks across his entire face until it can’t possibly get any bigger. You’ve missed that smile so much, “Hongjoong and I broke up by the way. I’m sure that you already knew that, but I wanted to tell you myself.” He nods once, then purses his lips, then begins to play with his own fingertips. It’s too early for you to get a read on him, but you do think that he already knew. You also think that he’s trying to hide his happiness.

“Thank you for telling me.” He pinches his lips shut and swallows before continuing, “Are you okay?” He reaches out to hold your hand before he can even think about it, but it doesn’t seem to make you uncomfortable. You take his hand and squeeze it gently then slowly set it back down to lay on his thigh.

“I’m fine. I’ll be even better once I get a milkshake.” 

Conversation flows more naturally after that, the both of you talking about nothing and everything at the same time. He tells you about the time that Yunho made a hotdog explode in their microwave. You share one of your many anecdotes from lunch with Yeosang and Jongho. He asks about what you’ve been writing lately and so you tell him briefly about your work in progress and the meetings with your teacher. The entire time while you’re talking he beams at you with pride. You had always loved writing so much.

You finish your milkshakes and he tips the waitress extra. You drive the remainder of the way to your house, Hannah Montana still blaring from his speakers. It’s unbelievably stupid and childish, but at the same time it’s absolutely perfect. He pulls into your driveway and lets out a heavy sigh, hands smacking against the steering wheel.

“Well. You’re home!” He doesn’t really want you to go, despite having driven all this way specifically to watch you leave. Something about the look in your eyes, and the fact that it’s directed straight at him, makes him think that you don’t want to leave either. 

“I’m home.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car before Mingi can even think of another thing to say. He maneuvers a bit in his seat so that he can see you as your picking up your stuff and think of something to say, “Thanks for the ride, I’ll-”

“Do you want to start up movie nights again?” He wasn’t exactly planning on asking you that, but he was planning to ask if you could spend more time together. It’s been so long without you that he wants to spend as much time with you as possible, “In my room, on Saturdays. And I’ll never stand you up or reschedule at the last minute.” Your heart is hammering, you don’t even bother to pretend that you don’t know why. The boy in front of you is stammering and over explaining and turning red in the face, and you are terribly in love with him.  

“I’d like that very much.” With that simple agreement, it feels as though the entire world has been set back into place.

*

You didn’t realize how much junk a dorm room could accumulate in the span of a year until it was time to clean all of it out. There were schedules to peel off of the walls, clothes to dig out from the back of the closet, phone chargers that had fallen behind night stands. It’s weird to look at it now, with all of the homeliness and personality stripped away. Next year there will be two entirely different people sleeping in the loft beds, which you admittedly grew used to. Maybe they’ll be strangers. Maybe they’ll be best friends.

“That’s the last box.” Mingi enters the emptied room right as your eyes move to the empty bed that had been adjacent to yours for the entire year. Your roommate had left early this morning, her things had been packed for weeks already. The two of you never grew any closer to one another, but you didn’t mind. Coexisting with her felt like one of your many growth challenges throughout this year, “You missing your roommate?” Mingi asked with a cocked eyebrow, making you realize that you’re still staring at her stripped bed.

“No, not really.” Your voice comes out so matter of fact that it makes Migni giggle a little bit. He thinks that it’s nice to see you, who was once so meek and quiet, being adamant about not caring for someone, “I’m grateful for her though. I didn’t think that I’d be able to live with a stranger before this year. I didn’t think I’d be able to do lots of things before this year.” You finally move your eyes to the boy standing at your side to see that he’s staring at you with a proud smile. It makes your chest swell with warmth in a way that you don’t even fight against, “What?” You can’t help but break out into a smile as you gaze even longer at his.

“Nothing, I’m just really proud of us. Who we’ve become, especially you.” His pinky finger brushes up against your own, for a moment you can feel his hand aching to hold your own. You open up your palm and lace your fingers into his, moving with certainty and purpose, “I like who you are now, you’re a lot bolder. Happier.” Your body flushes with heat, heart pattering so erratically that you’re sure he can hear it. You hope that he does. 

“I-I like you now too.” Your voice wavers as his hand travels to your wrist, pulling you gently so that you’re facing each other. His face looks stern, like this moment is do or die, yet his eyes sparkle with the same childlike twinkle as always. You watch his eyes travel from your own to your lips in a mere second, breath hitching in the back of your throat. You’ve waited for this for such a long time, but as his nose brushes ever so gently against yours you find yourself thinking that it was worth it, “May I?” The question is whisper, your breath ghosting against Mingi’s plump lips. You place your hand on his chest so that his heart is thumping beneath your hand. 

“Yes.” You hook your free hand beneath his chin and bring his face closer to yours so that your lips are finally touching. It’s nothing but a gentle brush at first, both of you timid and overly careful, but as soon as you try to pull away his hands are on your waist and pulling you closer than you thought was possible. He kisses you with fever, hands gripping you as though he’s scared that you might melt away. You bury your fists into his shirt, trying desperately to let him know that he never has to worry about that again. 

He pulls away after sometime, hands moving to hold your face as he rests his forehead on yours. He says nothing, only brushes his thumb against your cheek and smiles. In the quiet moments, you can make out the blurred lines of a future, one that’s spent in a modest apartment that’s decorated with all of the junk that Mingi just hauled downstairs for you. You can see late nights spent writing at a desk that’s full of his trinkets. You can see weekly movie nights on the couch with blankets and twinkling fairy lights. You can see a life that’s lived with love and passion, a life where pains are forgotten and growth is left in their place.

When he smiles at you and goes in for a second kiss, your eyes flutter closed. Yet you still see it all so clearly. You can see a future, and you can see it with Mingi by your side.

[thevelvetseries]

Voice In My Head (Part 1)

Summary : This is the story about Ashley Ackles and how her life turned upside down.

Pairing : Jensen Ackles x Daughter Reader / Danneel Ackles x Daughter Reader

Warnings : Fluff, Angst, Eating Disorder, Self Inflicting Cuts, Self Hate, Attempted Suicide, Minor Drug Use.

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

It’s hard to know where to begin telling you about this. I wonder if there’s any such thing as beginnings.

3 MONTHS AGO...

At this point in Ashley’s life everything had been normal. She was an A+ Grade student with a bright future ahead of her. She had her loving family surrounded around her and had good health. She had her 5 best friends Veronica, Selena, Bram (Abraham), Taylor and Matt (my boyfriend). She had been friends with Veronica and Selena since they were in kindergarten, she then met Bram in middle school then Taylor and Matt in High School and they six of them because the best of friends. They do everything together. They travel to school together every morning, go to the mall every Friday after school and talk about what friends usually talk about.

This is where our story starts. Ashley, Veronica and Selena were walking down the school hallway from just having gym class and was going to meet the boys for lunch. Once they get to the cafeteria they wait in line to get their food before going to find Matt, Taylor and Bram sitting at there normal table. I sit next to Matt and give him a quick kiss before starting my lunch. We were all eating and taking about the party that was happening on Saturday at Justin’s house. Justin is one of the school popular football players and always had parties whenever his parents went out of town for a weekend. Who knew this was going to be the downfall in Ashley’s life, the moment that changed her life forever.

“So who’s driving who Saturday?” Matt says while drinking some of his water.

“I don’t mind driving, it’s not like I’m gonna drink anyway.” I say while biting into my chicken salad sandwich.

“That makes sense too, you have 7 seats in your car.” Veronica said with a little laugh.

We spent the rest of lunch just talking and eating before finishing the rest of the day and heading home. Since tomorrow was the party we decided to skip the mall this week. Me and Matt went to my house today to do homework and watch TV. I pull my car into the driveway. Mums car wasn’t there meaning she was picking my younger siblings up from school and dad was away at work filming, he was coming home for the weekend though. We get out of the car and head inside get some snacks and head up to my bedroom. We were sitting on my bed with our work spread around us.

“Ok. What did you get for number 16?” Matt asked while fiddling with his pencil.

“Wait. There’s no number 16” I say while going through my papers.

“Hmmmm hmmmm” Matt started humming, in the cute annoying way he always does.

“STOP!” I say while pushing him a little.

“I’m just making sure your awake.” He said with a little smile forming on his lips.

“I’m awake, there’s just something about studying in a bed.” I reply. Since when we normally study together were on the floor with pillows.

“Well I guess I shouldn’t be complaining right. I’m in bed with a smoking hot, intelligent girl.” Matt started off saying before I interrupted him saying “women” which he corrects himself “women”. Then I continue saying “and your on the bed, not in it.” I say with a little smile.

“And I’m worried about math” Matt said.

We continued working for a little more, during that time mum had come home from picking up my younger siblings from school, and we had started working on the the subject we needed to get through, when I remembered something. I got off the bed Matt watching the walk across the room and going into my closet coming out with a black piece of fabric. I chucked them at him.

“You left your boxers here Monday”. I say with a smile.

“Oh no. I left them on purpose. You know to remind you of the wonderful night we had.” He said before grabbing my waist and kissing up my neck, which is when I begin to start giggling. Suddenly there was a knock on my bedroom door.

“Come in” I spoke loudly trying to stop giggling.

“Hello.” Mum said when she entered. “How’s the studying going” she asked.

“It’s going well. Nearly done” I reply,

“Good. Matt you joining us for dinner tonight?” She asked.

“No. Not tonight mum is making her famous spaghetti tonight.” He replied.

“Ok, also remember you father will be home tonight. So we are having his favourite” he should be home around 7.” Mum said before leaving the room.

Matt ends up leaving around 6pm to head home. I packed up all my work and put it away before heading downstairs for the night to spend time with my family. We were all in the living room when we heard the front door open and close. Dad was home. He had just finished filming season 14 of his show and was finally on hiatus. While dad was putting his luggage on the floor we all got up and welcomed him home before having dinner.

“So how was everyone’s day” dad asked. That’s when Zepp, Arrow and JJ start telling three different stories at once.

“Wow wow wow. Slooow down. One at a time. One at a time.” He interrupted. The one by one the all went through what happened to them. While this was happening I continued to eat my food, mums food is always delicious. Especially her spaghetti.

“Ashley, what about you?” Dad asked before taking another mouthful of his dinner.

“Not much really. Went to my lessons. Had gym. Had lunch, we didn’t go to the mall this week since there’s a party tomorrow night and then Matt came over after school so we could study together.” I said.

“What party?” He replied.

“Some guy called Justin. Don’t worry I won’t be drinking, I’m driving us all there and then home. So all I’m drinking is soda.”

“Well that’s ok. Just make sure you get home at a reasonable hour please. I don’t want to be up all night worrying because you’re not home.” Dad said while taking a forkful of his food.

“I promise I’ll be home before midnight.” I replied.

“That’s all I ask.” He replied.

For the rest of the night we spend together as a family. We all relaxed in the living room watching movies and snacking on popcorn and different snacks. It was nice. We don’t get to do this often since dad is away at work for too many months during the year. We all started to go to bed around 11pm, before I went to sleep I got my outfit ready for the party tomorrow night and went off to sleep.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

I could hear the beeping of my alarm like it was in a tunnel getting louder and louder. Slowly I started to wake up, I reached out my arm and turned off my alarm and started to get out of bed. I put on my slippers and my dressing gown on and headed into the bathroom and started getting ready for the day ahead. Around 8am I was finished and made my way downstairs. While walking down the hallway of her house she could smell the sizzling delicious smell of bacon cooking coming from the kitchen. When the kitchen comes into view she see her dad and mum standing in the kitchen cooking breakfast together. I make my way over to the kitchen table and start to pour myself a glass of orange juice that was already on the table.

“Morning sweetie.” Mum said when she saw me walking across the room.

“Morning.” I say before drinking half of my glass.

“How did you sleep last night?” Mum asked

“I had a good night sleep.” I replied.

We went along with our morning. Around 8pm I was all ready for the party and texted everyone I was ready and was about to leave to pick everybody up. I made my way downstairs and picked up my car keys from the bowl and walked into the living room.

“I’m about to leave. I’ll try and get home before midnight ok. I’ll text you when we leave the party so you don’t have to worry ok.” I say from the doorway to my dad.

“That’s ok sweetie. We’re not going anywhere tonight so we’ll be home.” He replied.

I got in my car, I collected everyone from their houses and made it to Justin’s house. I parked my car on his street and we all made our way inside.

“Um.. 11:45 at the car.” I say so we all agree on a time to head home.

“Now let’s have some fun.” Matt said while he came closer to me to give me a kiss under my ear, which caused me to giggle.

We all spent our night dancing around the backyard drinking. I only have 1 drink and stayed drinking cola and water for the rest of the night. The party was in full swing and everyone was drinking and dancing and were having a good time. It currently 11:45pm when we got in the car and left the party.

We all got in the car still laughing and having fun from the night that had just happened. I drove for about 10 minutes to Veronica house where I was dropping her off and Selena since she was staying over at her house next was Bram, then it was just Tyler, Matt and me. I was currently sitting at a red light singing along to the radio and just being our normal selves. After about 2 minutes light changed to green and I slowly started to move. When I reached the middle of the intersection of the road, out of the corner of my eye I could suddenly see bright white lights coming straight to us and hitting the car from the passenger side. The place were Matt was sitting. At first I didn’t know what to do. Blood was coming down my head from where I hit it on my door window. Matt wasn’t moving or talking and sight was getting shorter and shorter. The last thing I remember before I passed out was that I could see flashing lights and hear sirens.

Voices In My Head Taglist

@scatchia @spngirl05 @myopiamystical @dracosassismine @maia-skye @vicmc624 @blqcklust @cassiwalkinatural @ray-l-00@superspackles @mamanoota5 @bea789 @pooks06 @m1s10@youngnickeleggseagle @overthinkingsoulcat @kettnerjanea@vildemc @izzy0731 @blogaboutmylife2 @101stshippersquad@spnfamily-j2 @hgs2018 @desiredposion @weightlessdevil@alliedimlerr @lifeofanerd164 @hettolini @spneditsdestiel@smoothdogsgirl @weirdoforeves @lovingbrock @dannyo000@supergirl000983 @jensenandjaredsgirl0516 @sarsmilesah@thisshallbegrand @thehalediaries @generallyclumsy​ @hoboal87​ @snowangle1994

[elysicndrcvm]

━♡ guess the 23 YEAR OLD FEBRUARY baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because CHU EUNHA is just as BEDAZZLING as the month of FEBRUARY. wait, why do they remind me of JACOB BAE? beyond that, they seemed JOYOUS and SAVVY upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of DELICATE and QUIXOTIC though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX 1 / APARTMENT 0215 / FLOOR 3 ; HE seem(s) to have a lot going on with HIS job as a PATISSERIE OWNER/NUTRITIONAL SCIENCE STUDENT. ( ez, 21, she/they, gmt. )

     well hey there !! im ez but you fellow dallyeogers can call me ezzy, i have been in dallyeog before so some may remember me as having someone v different to my new bb i bring u now, i joined before with miss tam carmen !! anygays i return with this lil angel who i am all ‘ i say that’s my baby and i’m proud ’ over already even tho i literally came up with him like two days ago. you can find his pinboard here ( which btw i fuckeN love like he’s so aesthetic to me u go king ) and i made him a lil playlist which u can vibe to here. you can learn more about him under the cut but he’s a super soft-hearted gentle dove of a muse and quite...simple for me ?? sdhdh that’s not the right wording but U GET IT djjflg he isn’t super full of angst or trauma he’s just kinda viBIN livin his best life so that’s fun !! but ye without further ado: 

so as u kno from his app he owns a patisserie, it’s his lil babey and he is very dedicated to his craft and makin sure all his ideas for the place and the baked goods he sells are like rlly quirky and avant-garde. like he is so passionate about it u dont even KNOW, he tries to make sure most of the stuff on his menu is something like fun and new u wouldn’t get at just any old patisserie or cafe and that it’s super varied and also kinda aesthetic af? the place is very like trendy. it’s called patisserie d’elysian cause ya know he’s an extra biTCHH and proud.

he has three pupperino’s. all as adorable as each other, snickerdoodle is his golden lab and often ppl shorten it down to snickers, butterscotch is his dapple daschund pup, shortens the name to scotchie often. toulouse is his fancy toy poodle boi, shortens the name down as toto. if u are on the shortened name basis with his pups then u can consider urself one of his close pals. 

he’s actually adopted by his aunt but she raised him like she was his mother so that is what he considers her, she’s on his mother’s side but they are half-siblings. in terms of first name reasoning as well she just liked eunha as a name and didn’t even think about how it is traditionally for a female, she liked that it meant gift from heaven so it stuck. his father is still around, he’s just quite elderly so it felt like a better living situation for him to be raised primarily by his auntie. unfortunately his mother has passed on but no tragic story, she just went peacefully in old age. 

he dyes his hair quite often, it’s currently like a really pastel blue with black streaks consistently throughout like lil ones so it looks super cool. but he’s also had it be a more electric blue, lilac, and a duck egg kinda faded silvery blue. it’s naturally dark brunette. has brown eyes kind of a hazel hue. 

his style is kinda androgynous ig?? he just lives for soft retro fashion, lots of color in his wardrobe but also lots of tapered short and t-shirt fits frequented, sweater vests, rolled up jeans, high skater boi socks, soft jumpers with shirts, shirts in bright colours or satiny texture worn over plain white t-shirts, cardigans, pastel denim jackets, jeans with printed patterns on like clouds, flowers etc, favors yellow and blues. sometimes does eye makeup, occasionally wears heels bc he’s a baddie or super heeled boots/chunky shoes. 

obsessed with music, can play violin and guitar. he’s a big mitski and rina sawayama fanatic, likes anything that sounds peaceful or calming or has like a good fun vibe to it. also likes the trademark gay icons like carly rae jepsen, lorde, etc. he’s not ashamed. obsessed with mamma mia movies. but also likes rap which is rlly funny cause its like the bad bitch female rappers only and like he’ll listen to it while arranging his sock drawer or making his bed or something ajdjdj it’s like hype anthems for being a baddie and a hoe and he’s just doing his night sleepy routine adkfkf. 

showers, blankets, music, baked goods especially bagels are his happy places. 

very much a sensitive lil romanticist, falls in ‘love’ like five times a day, he just likes to giggle and smile around pretty people and admire the artwork hnghdh, he’s like yeARNS though ya know?? like he’s all i will flirt by making prolonged eye contact, i made you a playlist, this song makes me think of you etc. it’s either memes as flirting with him or elaborate love letters u never know what ur gonna get akdkd. 

awful sense of humour, loves his friends more than anything on earth except his pups, would fully live in a huge house of just like his pups and all his closest buds for all eternity. likes fruits way too much, enjoys puns about fruits way too much. milkshakes, sushi, orange hues and bus rides are some of his absolute favorite simple pleasures of life. clouds, flowers, salt lamps, the sunrise over the sea, skateboarding, fresh soda, teddy bears, busy street markets, parasols, fish tanks with exotic fish, sorbet, bike riding, polaroids, record players, rain at night against floor to ceiling windows with a fresh steaming pot of tea on the desk beside it and warm fresh sheets from the laundry on his bed, ponds, skateboarding. all little joys in life that give him like the biggest pleasure dopamine hit in the world. 

his cousin actually owns a florists so he has flowers just littering his apartment like a lot and it just looks like he has ten million suitors from the late eighteenth century attempting to court him but no all these flowers are from him to him or worse from his aunt djfjg she sends him some for valentines every valentines, pls help him, pls send him flowers. 

studies nutritional science and he fucken hates it. do not ask him shit cause he doesn’t KNOW OKAY? he doesn’t understand it either. he took it because he needed something to go alongside the passion for baking that was a real ‘qualification’/job so that is the only reason he’s doing it. no point doing a baking degree after all when he’s already a baker with a business, he’s super young still he gotta keep his prospects open. so YAH. he’d rather be doing culinary arts but eh. nutritional science sounded better and more logic based. the real miracle is he still gets top grades all the time even tho he spends his life like wtf am i even doing is this even legit akdkdk. school is the worst thing in the world for him watch his mood instantly deflate the second its brought up. 

despite being a quixotic, he’s a lil afraid of intimacy. like oh god does he love it, those small touches and acts of affection u kno? the subtle things that normally go unnoticed, eye contact, brushing of hands, linking of little fingers, rubbing a thumb, kissing eyelids or foreheads or palms or shoulders in little gentle pecks, back massages and rubs or finger tracing patterns absent-minded, shoulder massages, laying your head on someone’s shoulder or on their lap, knocking knees together, exchanging a small glance only the two of you get before bursting into laughter, smiling into kisses, napping together, having blankets placed over you warm and fresh, or towels put ready like it, someone making you something they know you like a lot. that’s his sHIT. but like he’s terrified still, someone skimming their fingers on his skin makes his breath hitch like he’s a scandalized and alarmingly aroused victorian woman sjdjd. he’s literally still a virgin, he hasn’t even had his first kiss okay my baby is delicate be gentle with him akdkd but he still LIKES PASSION AIGHT kfkf. 

real soft spoken, honey tinted voice like i shit u not this boy talks like he’s an angel sent from heavens above to guide you to the paradisaical garden of eden or some shit akdkd. ur gonna fall in love with eunha’s voice before u even fall in love with any other part of him like his adorable beaming smile or stunning eyes akdkf. 

has dance parties around his room when getting ready in the morning, listens to bella’s lullaby unironically yes from twilight yes u heard right, bit of a himbo streak sometimes in his obliviousness djfjf. quite silently subtly funny actually much like jacob himself. 

he is gay, afraid of driving, cannot do math, blanks out often and he is valid for all of those things. has a collection of cartoon and disney animal movie dvds. has a dream notebook. always has blue painted nails in some kinda shade. 

does not enjoy turning in assignments bc he is scared he’ll fail, avoids looking at his grades for weeks after they’re released and hates knowing that they’re out. 

cannot dance, dances often. collects vintage stuff esp clothes and mostly sweaters. likes midnight trips to corner stores and fields where he can just lay and look at the stars. makes friends rlly easily but has super bad performance anxiety. cannot ever have a messy room like even the tiniest bit messy. even like clothes being stacked on a chair instead of away. 

bakes peanut butter, banana and choc chip muffins (they r called monkey bites normally) whenever he’s super stressed. if u want to cheer him up when he’s anxious or stressed then u should give him french lavender honey, chia seeds and caramelized pear on toast/bagel. it is his comfort food. he fancii when he needs a pick me up. treat urself and all that. 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #427

“don’t pray for me when you’re the one enslaved”

Your ex taps you on the shoulder and says, “I still love you.” You say? I wouldn't say anything, I'm pretty sure I'd just break down. Do you play video games? Not really anymore. :/ I probably would, though, if I had the appropriate consoles for games I want. You can only replay PS2 games but so many times before you're tired of them. Do you spend a lot of time with family? No, honestly. Is your house more than two stories tall? It only has one floor. Have you ever hit your significant other? Has he/she ever hit you? I'm not in a relationship, but I have most certainly never hit an s/o, and they've never hit me. I wouldn't tolerate that shit. What makes you an attractive person? (Talk about your personality too!) I'm not. What color is your hairbrush/comb? White. What snacks do you have available in your household atm? Hm. Just some fruity grain and oats bars, as well as cashew ones. We try to keep sweets out of the house. Has anyone recently told you that they like you, or find you attractive? No. Are you attracted to the last person you Facebook messaged? Holy fuck yes, she's drop-dead gorgeous. Do you care about anyone that doesn’t care about you? Ha, I'm sure. Was your last Facebook friend requests from a male or female? Some random middle-aged man, like who are you sir. Which one of your relatives is most likely to embarrass you? My dad. He can be so rude to people sometimes. When was the last time you ate a bar of chocolate? Not sure. It's been quite a while. Do you play any games on Facebook? No. What would you like to get a degree in? It'd be nice to get a degree in Arts, but yeah... I'm never going back to school. Do you wake up a lot in the middle of the night? Pretty much every night. Would you prefer to read a book, watch a movie or TV show, or play a video game? Play a video game. Do you usually get popcorn or soda at the movie theater? Almost without fail. You've got to, it's part of the experience. What genre of films do you like the best? Horror. How many bank accounts do you have? None, actually. Have you ever had the flu? No, thankfully. What is your goal for the next few months? To start getting in shape/losing weight. I seriously hope this gym routine works out. Have you ever had some kind of sleep-disorder? How did it affect your life? I have seveeeere sleep apnea. It's shocking, I never would've guessed it, though, so the diagnosis (I had a sleep study, so yes, it's legit) was an extreme surprise. I don't snore at all, nor do I like pass out in the middle of something, but I stop breathing A LOT. For a year or two (no, that is not an exaggeration), it caused consistent, horrible, and violent nightmares/terrors. It made sleep frightening to me, and I was never getting a truly restful sleep. Now, I have an APAP mask (like a less extreme version of a CPAP mask) that helps me greatly. I only very rarely am surprised by a more subtle nightmare now. Have you ever had food poisoning before? Describe the experience. No, thankfully. What are two things that you have no problem paying full price for? Quality tattoos, for one. And maybe uhhh... idk. We're the kind of family that buys off-brand foods and drinks all the time because it's cheaper, so I can't say that. Maybe health care? Like I wouldn't want service from a sketchy dentist or something. Funny, charming, cute, romantic, smart - choose only 2 for the opposite sex. Charming and romantic. Have you ever let somebody use you? Why did you do it? No. You can go back in time & change something in your mom’s past - what is it? That's hard for me to say. She doesn't seem to like talking about her past very much, because I know it's turbulent with her mother. I would say her being disowned, but I don't know how that *actually* affected her. Maybe it was for the better she wasn't under her mom's authority anymore. Do you know anybody who is around the exact same size as you? Who? I guess my mom, but she's actually smaller than me now. She's lost a lot of weight and is still going at it. Ever been to a haunted house? How scared were you? Not a house, but rather hay rides and those places you just walk through and experience different stuff. They don't scare me at all; I love 'em. Been on any websites today you wouldn’t want your parents to see? No. Which is worse: dusting or mopping? Ugh, mopping. I don't mind dusting. Would you marry somebody who was intensely religious? No. Did you pull a senior prank? No. That shit is so dumb. Did you graduate? High school, yes. Have you ever been unfaithful in a serious relationship? No, and I never would. What was the last song you listened to? I'm listening to Lauren Babic and Halocene's cover of "Bleed It Out" by Linkin Park right now. It's great. Are you one of those lucky people with 20/20 vision? Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell no. Is fashion one of your interests? No. Do you think you’ll eventually find that special someone? Hell if I know. Do you care what people think? Way, way more than I should. Is acting something you enjoy? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I feel so stupid. What was the last thing you broke/sprained? I tore a ligament badly in my foot maybe a year and a half ago. I was SO sure it was broken. My mom had to help me walk everywhere, and even when she did, I'd be whimpering and seething. Have you ever fought with a friend because of their boyfriend/girlfriend? Because of yours? No. Has a stranger ever yelled at you for your language? No. Whose house, other than yours and your families', are you most comfortable at? If we're excluding all family, I suppose Sara's? Has any of your friends’ family ever yelled at you? Probably at some point as a kid. Did you ever play a sport as a little kid? Did you enjoy it? I played a lot. The only two I really didn't like were soccer and cheerleading. Did you ever watch the show Full House? Hell yeah, I loved it as a kid. Is there a celebrity you are just DETERMINED to marry? Ha ha y'all know I joke about it, but no, not legitimately. It's not like I know him personally at all, and I'm not chasing him to California either. Just let me dream still lmao. Have you ever burned someone’s picture? No, but I've actually heard it's truly therapeutic and not just for dramatic effect, so I wouldn't be opposed to doing so if you handed me a picture of him and a lighter. What’s the longest hike you’ve ever been on? I've never hiked before. Would you ever get a lip tattoo? Uh, no. Who is the first person of the opposite sex that pops into your head? Jason. Do your parents smoke cigarettes? My dad smokes like a chimney and is 100% going to end up with cancer because of it. You should hear his cough. Mom smoked for a very, very brief period before I was born. What does one of your T-shirts have written on it? "Equal in our bones" is on my favorite shirt. Name a pet you definitely wouldn’t want. Certain inverts people are wild enough to get, like giant African centipedes in particular. Would you prefer your partner smaller or taller? Can't say I care. do you enjoy going through old pictures? Sometimes. Other times, it's too painful. It also depends on the era of the pictures. Do you believe people when they say they don’t judge people? Ha, no. We all have natural first impressions and things like that that just... happen. What did you love the most about the town you grew up in? Nothing, really... besides just childhood memories that inevitably came. My hometown was dangerous. What’s a movie that you laughed the hardest during? I'm not sure. What’s a movie you cried the hardest during? I want to say Old Yeller, but I'm not sure. What’s your favorite restaurant? Olive Garden and The Cheesecake Factory. Is there a dessert you don’t like? Yeah; I don't like pie, strawberry shortcake, and I know there're others. Favorite album? Ozzy's Black Rain. It was my introduction to metal, so there's nostalgic value there, but I also just LOVE every single song. What’s a book that you read because everyone else was reading it? None. I don't read books for that reason. Underwater or outer space? Both kinda frighten me to a degree, but I find outer space to be way cooler. So many colorrrrrrs. Dogs or cats? Cats. Kittens or puppies? Ugh, both are so cute, but I gotta hand it to kittens. Bird watching or whale watching? Whale watching would blow me away. Whales are such magnificent, awe-inspiring animals. What is your spirit animal? Probably a deer. Skittish, shy, and quiet. What was your best subject in school? English. What was your worst subject in school? Math. What is one thing you wish you knew in high school? You and Jason aren't going to last, hunty. Who is your fashion icon? I don't have one. I wear what I want/what's comfortable. Diamonds or pearls? I think diamonds are a lot prettier. What color dress did you wear to prom? First one was maroon, last one was black. What’s your favorite plot-twist? Silent Hill: Shattered Memories. My jaw actually dropped. Honestly, are you jealous of someone right now? Yes. Honestly, what’s the worst thing you’ve done when you were mad? Said things I shouldn't. Honestly, ever made anyone cry when you were mad? Yes. Honestly, when was the last time you REALLY cried your heart out? Two weeks ago or something like that. Ever pop someone else’s pimple? OH MY GOD NO alskdfa;wekrwer; Do you need to return anyone’s phone call? No. Who are you closest to? My mom. Have you ever had a bad concert experience? No. Are you currently sad about anything? A number of things. Have you had any form of exercise today? No, but tomorrow is day #2 at the gym! Can you handle blood? Yeah, np. Has any place hired you underage for a job? No. Have you ever carried a concealed weapon? No sir=ee. Are you currently searching for a job? Not anymore, at least not actively. I was going to after TMS, but I'm just... still not ready. Right now, I'm focusing on the gym and getting healthy again, but if the seemingly perfect job comes along, I'm not opposed to taking it up. Does eating breakfast make you sick? No, I've got to have breakfast or else THEN I feel awful.

[theawkwardterrier]

things left behind and the things that are ahead, ch. 21

AO3 link here

Steve’s not in the general habit of warning his kids away from things. He doesn’t do it when Nate wants to build a five foot tall science fair volcano, nor when Drea tells them that she’s going to get herself into Harvard and is leaving herself no other option; he buys the baking soda and vinegar instead, flips through flashcards and drives to speech and debate tournaments. When Emma comes home for winter break during her sophomore year at Gallaudet and says that she’s not sure she’s going back, he asks why rather than telling her that of course she is. When she decides she will graduate after all, making plans to switch her major from Communications to Business and starting to put together a plan for her own café and bakery once she finishes, he doesn’t try to scare her off with talk of how difficult it will be. He is there first thing the day they open. And when, fifteen years later, she brings her husband and kids over for Sunday dinner and tells him and Peggy that she’s looking to run for town council, all he asks is, “How can I help?”

Apparently the main answer is babysitting. Eric is supportive of her campaign but he works and can’t always be there when she’s doing a midmorning question and answer session with the PTA at the local elementary school. The boys are both in school themselves at this point, but Julie is still only six months, and the idea of hiring someone to watch her at that age is what has left Emma on the fence about the whole thing in the first place. Steve, on his way to retirement after nearly twenty years, is a good alternative.

The boys’ teachers know him well by this point, waving and smiling as he pulls into the parking lot for pickup. ("They like you better," Emma had said to him, "than they ever liked me." "I don't remind them that they have to do better than math worksheets for homework," Steve said back.) When he goes to get Max, he actually gets out of the car to speak with Mrs. Jennings, who started teaching at MSD back when Emma was a student. Her hair is nearly all silver by now.

Finally the boys make enough faces against the window that he wraps up his conversation and returns to the car.

"Where are we going?" Will asks once they're on the way back to town. "Are we going home? Do we have popcorn?"

"We're not going home, we're going to watch your mom finish up her talk. She wants to see you and drive you home after," Steve tells him, watching in the rearview as Will relays the information to his younger brother. Max and Will spend half their time in little spats and the occasional punchup, but they are united in their sighing disdain for the plan. Steve tries to cover a smile. "We do have popcorn, though."

He doesn't remember having toted this much stuff around even in the midst of raising four kids, though that’s probably because all of Julie's accessories make up most of it - diapers and wipes, bottles, blankets, pacifiers, little stuffed toys - and he never had to deal much with baby gear. He's an expert at packing a bag now, filling the side pockets with books and handheld games, comics, coloring pages, and—of course—snacks.

Will and Max plunk themselves down on a bench, close to where Emma is speaking to a group of a few dozen in front of the local grocery store. "Popcorn, popcorn," Max starts chanting in ASL, his excited little finger flicks increasing in pace as he settles into the rhythm. Will joins him after a minute. Steve is holding Julie's carrier in one hand (she's still sleeping, thankfully; the campaign trail has really made her a trooper in that area) but he manages to rest the enormous bag on the pavement beside them.

He points to the right side pocket, and they fall on the bag, tearing open the snack as soon as they find it and digging their hands in. Knowing that they'll be satisfied for the moment, Steve turns to watch Emma.

"—help support local small businesses," Millie is interpreting, her voice as confident as Em's hands. "I believe that the citizens here should have a say in the sorts of stores and industry that comes to town, so I would take into consideration a preference for chain stores from my constituents. But I'm also a small business owner like some of you, and I know it's a shame to lose those institutions. A town can be well-served by family-owned stores like this, in more ways than one." Emma points over her shoulder at the doorway to the market, and Steve can see people nodding. It's taken the first several months of campaigning to get people past the questions of whether Emma could do the job, to get them to even believe she was saying anything when she signed rather than just having Millie make up translations. But now that they're listening, now that they trust her, he knows they like what they hear.

"I'm thirsty, Grandpa," Will signs, licking salt off of his fingers, while Max adds, "Where're the good crayons?"

Steve sets Julie's carrier gently on the ground, rooting around for the box. He finds them and hands them over to Max, who opens up his Disney coloring book to the next blank picture and starts filling it in, tongue poking from the corner of his mouth in concentration.

"Grandpa," Will repeats, "I'm really thirsty." He accompanies the trickling motion of the sign along his throat with an enormous eyed gaze of desperation, a desert waif sort of look that Steve has no idea where he learned.

Julie starts to stir, and Steve tries to lull her back to sleep by rocking the carrier a little with his foot. "We'll go into the store in a few minutes," he tells Will, but the boy shakes his head.

"They don't sell the good kind of juice there," he says, as if this is the most sensible thing in the world. "We should try the gas station." He points across the street; the station itself is closed for construction - Max had pointed out the heavy digging equipment on their way into the parking lot - but the attached convenience store is open.

This is what Steve has worked for all these years: a world where it would be unthinkable that growing up Grandpa didn't know good juice from bad because he never had any juice at all, a world where his kids and grandkids will never experience the same sorts of things he did growing up, where hopefully as few people will as possible. But Steve also knows that he isn't going to give in to this kind of attitude. It’s the sort of time where Peggy would have conveyed her firm disappointment with a look.

"We'll go look in the market," he repeats firmly. "Let me try to calm down your sister first."

But even Will, crossing his arms sullenly, can see that this is a lost cause. Julie is noticeably awake and crying now, not loudly enough for any of the potential voters to look over, but certainly enough for Steve to hear. He unbuckles her from the seat and picks her up, holding and rocking her in one arm.

"We'll go in a few min—" he starts to tell Will again, but before he can finish, the gas station across the street explodes.

Steve has Julie against his chest, his body curved over the boys before he can think. The explosion shakes the ground, and he can tell there's a fire even before he chances a look over his shoulder. The cloud of smoke and flame is even worse than he had anticipated from the drifting scent of burning: a towering enormity of color somehow made dark. For the first time in years, he wishes for the shield, the protective, nearly impenetrable shell of it.

"You, go inside and call 911. Tell them the exact location." It's Millie's voice, only a little shaky as it rises over the sudden noise. Steve looks over. The crowd is shifting, startled and confused edging into panicked, but Emma is standing firm. She directs people with quick calm, trusting Millie to relay her instructions and the people around her to listen: this woman to tell the manager what they've seen, a group to search between the parked cars to make sure no one fell or got injured.

"Grandpa, you're squashing me." Will says just what he is thinking, even now, but as Steve finally pulls back to give him a bit of room, he looks shell-shocked. It seems as if he might actually be close to crying. Julie certainly is, full-throated and frightened now in a way that will be difficult to comfort. As Steve watches, Will slips his hand into Max's.

"What was that?" Max asks, eyes wide and mouth open as he tries to glimpse over his grandfather's shoulder. His hand moves forcefully through the air. His coloring book has fallen to the ground, the bright cover facing upward, thin pages crumpling in on themselves beneath the weight.

"The gas station—there was an accident." It's the best he can do right now to balance the truthful version of what he knows without being terrifying.

"Dad!" Steve stands fully, keeping a hand on Max's shoulder. Julie is still giving cranky sorts of whimpers, even snugged against the softness of Steve's sweater. Will stands close to Steve's legs as Emma strides over. Millie, her job done for the moment now that Steve's attention has been caught, twists her hands. Her lips press tightly together, eyes wide behind her black-framed glasses. Steve catches her eye, trying to convey some sort of silent courage, but he isn't sure it's helped. He turns his attention to his daughter, whose words are coming fast.

"I don't think there are injuries on this side," she tells him. Her hands are so firm, precise, as she points to the ground they stand on. Her eyes can’t keep ahold of him, flashing back over to her children, to the hanging plants for sale which have not yet settled back into a leisurely swing.

"Good job," Steve says. He bends close, allowing Julie to nuzzle into her hold. His arm free, he wraps it around Em, kissing the top of her head. Hands held between them, where no one else can see, he repeats it. "Good job, brave girl."

She lets out a shaky breath, then straightens. "Bring the kids inside?"

His hand is already on Max's back, encouraging the boy toward his mother. Will is looking between the two of them with big eyes. "I'm going over—see what I can do."

"No." She closes her fingers with a snap, the way she would react to one of the boys asking for a cookie before dinner or someone at work wondering if they can skip out on the hourly restroom check just this once. "The firefighters—they're coming in a few minutes. The fire is their job."

Steve shakes his head. "A few minutes might be too long to try to save whoever is over there." He shifts Will forward too, despite his betrayed look, despite the wrench he feels. It is much easier to throw yourself into danger when there aren't people you care about to come back to, but he's always known that. He starts moving in the direction of the fire anyway.

"I don’t care. You’re not a superhero!" Emma looks anguished, but the anger is there too. He can see it in the tension of her arm supporting the baby. "You're my dad."

The smile he gives her is so sad, so small, it might not even count. "I'm a little of both," he says, and goes to try to do what he can.

But when he gets across the street to where a couple other men are considering the flames with horror, they turn him back too.

"We can't have you dropping and needing another ambulance," one of them shouts over the roar, and it’s only when he adds, “sir,” to the end of it that Steve understands. Because it’s not a military sort of respect that he is getting, it is the rote politeness due to the elderly. This man does not see any trace of Captain America in front of him, not expanded lung capacity or accelerated healing or increased speed. He does not see Grant Carter, who raised four amazing children, who strives to be a good husband, who declined the promotions offered to him over the years because he wanted to work with kids and families instead of numbers and higher-ups. Grant Carter, on whose effort, on whose word, the world changed to be what it is. He certainly cannot see Steve Rogers beneath that, who would have run into the fire before all of it - still and anyway and always.

This stranger can’t be blamed for what he assumes: an old man, kindly and graying, who should be sent safely back to his family rather than endangering himself in memory of some once-been youth. Steve reminds himself, as the fire trucks arrive with lights and sirens blaring, that such a thought is only natural. But he thinks of this, too: that perhaps it isn’t entirely wrong. Even if he had been training, even though he is still enhanced in some ways, how effective would he be now? His time for this sort of work has likely passed without his even realizing that the expiration date was upon him, without him having done all he could with it.

He shaped a life, shaped a world, with the choice he made, and he wouldn’t change it. But sometimes, these times, when the things he can no longer do, the sorts of things he has not done or not done enough over the years, present themselves to him, he cannot help but feel ashamed.

“You’re not a superhero,” Emma had said to him, and it’s true and it isn’t and somehow, forty years on, he is still sometimes reminded of how he lives in the overlap.

He returns to his family, helps Emma carry over the jugs of water she has wrangled out of the store owner to hand out to the fire crews and those living in the surrounding houses who come out to search for fresh air and answers as the smoke drifts into their homes. Will, his small face pale and serious, holds the cups in two hands while Steve fills them.

They stay as firefighters support the owner of the station, two customers, and a cashier out from around the back. The owner cannot stop staring at the column of flame, still raging. He twists his head toward it even as they guide him away.

They stay as the news stations arrive, a duo from the local paper, snapping pictures and asking questions. They stay as the mayor speaks to Emma, both of them intent and careful. They stay as water and time force the fire to grow smaller, turning the kids away from the revealed skeletal remains that once were machinery and the hidden remains of truer skeletons. Even Millie turns her back as the corner’s van arrives, although Julie, in her arms, is sleeping once again.

When they finally leave - all the kids and Millie in Emma’s car, and Steve in his - it is already dark. Eric, though trying to look calm cutting broccoli at the kitchen table, stands as soon as they all get into the kitchen, the knife still rocking on the cutting board. His questions are overrun by the boys' frantic hands, and just as things start to settle, Peggy arrives, having heard some vague details on the car radio on the way back from the speech she had been giving that afternoon, and they have to start all over again.

Dinner is a harried affair. Emma nurses Julie at the table, signing with one hand over her daughter's head, rather than going to sit in the living room rocker as usual. She won’t fully look at her father, and Steve knows that Peggy notices. The adults take turns reminding Will and Max to actually eat, which they do when prompted, eyes tracking the conversation the entire time and occasionally waving a hand to contribute.

Other than these admonishments, Steve stays mostly quiet. He watches as Max becomes more breathlessly hyperactive, overshadowing Will's growing quiet. Millie excuses herself at bedtime - stretching the bounds of professionalism by staying for dinner isn't unusual for her these days, but the intensity of the afternoon seems to be bearing down on her even as she tries to keep herself together. Steve hopes that Emma doesn't have anything overly pressing during the next few days.

Em goes to put Julie into her crib, and Eric joins her, still rubbing a hand over his forehead. Steve and Peggy exchange a glance - “my turn or yours?” with a side of "we'll talk about all the rest later" - and she goes to wrangle Max into a bath, while Steve presses Will to find his pajamas.

He can hear splashing on tile as he tucks Will in, but there's no complaint about little brothers getting to stay up too late, no insistence on three, no four, books tonight. Will just slides himself quietly under the covers. Without asking, Steve snaps on the nightlight that doesn't get much use anymore.

"I'm afraid that Max will have bad dreams from today," Will says, but there is a little waver to his attempt at being matter-of-fact. "I think he was really scared back there."

"Hmm," Steve says, settling himself on the side of the bed. "I don't blame him. Today was scary. It made me pretty worried. And if someone else other than Max was also worried or scared, even someone older, it would make a lot of sense to me. Just like it would make sense to tell people like your mom and dad, or Gran, or me if you—if someone was still feeling that way, so we could try to figure out how to help."

Will's hand somehow finds its way into his. "What kinds of things make you stop feeling scared?"

Steve's policy on comforting lies is not particularly well formulated; it's more of a gut instinct thing. Now he sighs. "Well, there's no way to stop being scared for always, and it's not a good thing to never be scared of anything. Only a robot would never be scared, and I like having human grandchildren instead of robots." Will laughs a little, head resting more completely back onto his pillow. "But the thing that helped me stop feeling so scared today was going over to help."

Will frowns. "Even though the firefighters did the big helping?"

"Even though." The words are out of his mouth before he realizes that they are not a lie. He remembers, from years away, giving a speech about prices he was willing to pay, even alone, and the way that he hadn't needed to stand alone at all. There were always people beside him who had none of the things he'd been gifted with, always people out there helping to right things with nothing but skill and wits - and sometimes not even that, only willingness to try. There is such honor in reminding himself of his place, now, in their number.

“And we helped the firefighters, didn’t we?” Will asks.

“We did.” Steve smooths back a piece of his dirty blond hair. “They were very thirsty, so we were doing important work, helping them.”

“Next time,” Will says around a yawn, “we should get them juice. The good kind.” He yawns again, flipping over onto his side seemingly without realizing it. His blinks are becoming farther and farther apart. “And maybe I’ll have some too.”

“We’ll see,” Steve says with a smile, and waits beside him for another few minutes before he stands to turn off the light and close the door. Will is going to be fine. They all are, today.

More chapters here

[waltzofthewifi]

Kota Chapter 4: The Hatzi Family

Beginning | Chapter 3 | ToC | Chapter 5

Every once in a while, Hawkmoth did something good.

In fact, as Lacy put away her notebook after the students were finally allowed back in the classroom, she was fine with the super villain. Anything to put off that dreadful math test.

"It's nice," Alya said. "Hawkmoth usual waits until after the hardest class to akumatize someone."

"Don't tell me you're actually thankful he akumatized the janitor," Marinette replied.

"The janitor gets more respect for his work, I get an extra day to study, what's the problem?"

"I'm with Alya," Nino said. "That test is scarier than he is."

"I feel sorry for Carapace though," Lacy admitted. "I mean, he and Rena Rouge just arrived, and he was immediately blasted with trash?"

Chloe made a face. "I can't imagine how smelly he is now."

"Well he doesn't smell now," Alya argued. "Ladybug fixes everything, remember?"

"Besides, it's Chat Noir you have to feel sorry for," Alix commented. "Taking a mouthful of rotten food like that."

"Or Adrien, who spent an akuma day stuck at home," Kim added. "Just missed the whole thing."

"You sound like you enjoyed watching the heroes being beaten around with trash," Marinette noted.

"Of course not. The fun parts were when the heroes were winning. Did you see the backflip Ladybug did?"

"It was so cool!" Alix agreed.

"It was actually pretty bad form," Lila pepped up. "My PE teacher in-"

"Bad form?" Chloe snuffed. "She leaped off of a flying broom. Rossi needs to show some respect."

"I thought it was pretty cool," Alix admitted. "Of course, everything Ladybug does is cool."

"I don't understand why you were watching her," Lacy replied. "Hiding is a thing, Alix."

"But-!"

Lacy swung her bag over her shoulder and grabbed her coat off of the chair as Alix finished zipping up her backpack.

Lila was still talking, and Alya seemed enraptured (Lacy could've sworn a second ago she was annoyed at the bad form comment too, but any traces of that were gone).

Next to Alya, Marinette seemed put down by the focus on Lila.

One person. Wasn't that what Ladybug said?

"Hey Marinette, me and Alix are spending the afternoon at my place studying. Want to come?"

Marinette brightened at the suggestion. "Sure! Let me just text my parents so they know where we are!"

.

Lacy tapped her pencil against her paper, trying and failing to focus on the study sheet.

She, Alix, Marinette, and Nathaniel were sitting at the table, faces scrunched in concentration as they studied for the test. Alix and Marinette had both improved a lot during their study session, and Nathaniel was doing well too, but Lacy was struggling to make sense of the numbers. It didn't help that she couldn't focus, that every time her eyes met the paper her mind wandered away.

Still, even if she could focus, math was math.

Marinette finished working on a problem with Alix and glanced over at Lacy. "Any progress?"

"Nope," Lacy replied.

Marinette scooted her chair over and looked at Lacy's paper.

"Can you tell that this isn't my thing?" Lacy asked.

Marinette chuckled. "Is it anyone's?"

"You seem to be doing fine," Lacy commented.

"Doesn't feel like it." Marinette leaned forward on her elbows and wiped at her eyes. "You know what? I think we all need a break."

"Seconded," Alix said. "I'm grabbing a snack. You still have those ice creams?"

"Top shelf of the freezer," Lacy replied. "Grab one for me?"

"Sure. Marinette, Nath, you guys want one?"

"Sure," Nathaniel replied.

"Yes please." Marinette pushed her tablet away. "So, how's your family adjusting to Paris?"

"We're getting there, I think," Lacy said. "It's still weird how commonplace akuma attacks are. I mean, just the other day the Eiffel Tower collapsed and people shrugged it off as no big deal."

"Well it happens all the time," Alix said, coming back to the table with the ice creams. "The first time it was all people could talk about, but now it's nothing."

"I remember when I was akumatized it was still so new," Nathaniel recalled, taking his ice cream from Alix. "It was hard, those first couple of months, because not a lot of people understood just how convincing it all is. But now everyone knows someone's whose been akumatized."

"Poor Mr Ramier's been akumatized about forty times now," Alix added. "And a few months ago he was sent back in time by an akuma, or so I heard."

"Have you met them yet?" Nathaniel asked.

Lacy frowned. "Who? Mr Ramier?"

"No, Ladybug and Chat Noir," Alix finished.

"Oh. I met Ladybug briefly the other day - she crashed through the wall over there. Haven't met Chat Noir yet."

"Have you tried taking pictures of them?" Marinette questioned. "I know you how much you love photography."

"Oh, I, uh-" stay away from Akuma fights as much as possible "haven't really gotten the chance."

"Well if you get any, you'll have to show us," Marinette said.

"Yeah, your pictures are always so good!" Alix added.

Lacy felt herself blush. "Thanks."

"How did you get into photography anyways?" Marinette asked.

"Well, my dad took me to take climbing lessons," Lacy said. "I was very hyper as a child, and originally he put me in dance, but then he started noticing that a lot of the older girls had developed image problems. Because of the competitiveness around it, you know? So he tried to get me in a sport where that wasn't such a problem. And I loved it so much I wouldn't stop climbing for weeks. And of course, being up high all the time, I started asking to borrow Elisabeth's camera and take pictures, and that developed from there."

"That's really cool," Marinette stated. "Did you ever do climbing competitions or anything?"

"No, not really. It's more of a hobby than anything. Something to release all the excess energy."

Nathaniel took the last bite from his ice cream. "Alix keeps trying to get her to skate."

"I think it'd be fun," Alix said. "After all, you're one of my only friends who can keep up with me."

"I hope you know how exhausted I am afterwards," Lacy replied.

"If you practiced with me, you wouldn't get so exhausted," Alix pointed out. "Proper practice and exercise is important. You've seen what happens whenever someone like Lila tries to do anything athletic."

"And you never get injured?" Nathaniel questioned.

"Nope, never."

"Liar."

Marinette and Lacy both chuckled.

With all the ice creams finished, Lacy picked up the trash and walked to the kitchen to clean up.

"Anyone want anything else? Dad keeps plenty of food."

"No thanks," Marinette said. "That ice cream was good though."

"Should we get back to work?" Nathaniel suggested.

"I think I'm studied out," Alix admitted. "Let's play a game instead. UNO?"

"I'll grab the cards," Lacy agreed.

It took her ten minutes to remember where the cards were. In their old place, they had a closet for games, but they had condensed it into a drawer and she had no idea which drawer. Eventually she found the cards, and the four started a game.

Lacy ended up grabbing a bag of candy to snack on as the four played, and she was just getting up again to grab a soda when the door opened.

"I'm home," Elisabeth called out.

Lacy smiled and went to greet her stepmom with an obligatory hug.

"Hi Ms El," Alix called from the table.

"Hi Alix, Nathaniel," Elisabeth replied, walking to the table and dropping off her work bag. "And, I don't believe we've been introduced?"

"Marinette. I'm in the same class as Lacy."

"She's the designer I was telling you about," Lacy supplied.

"Yes! You've done some really cool designs, haven't you?"

"From what Lacy tells me, so have you," Marinette replied.

Elisabeth chuckled. "One or two. But I think I prefer working with designers over being one." She yawned, stretching her arms out as she did so. "Oh, I think I need sit down for a while. Your father should be here soon. Let me know if you four need anything."

Elisabeth affectionately patted Lacy's head before heading up the stairs.

"Your stepmom is so cool!" Alix said.

"She seems really nice," Marinette agreed.

"She is," Lacy replied. She sat down again, before remembering her soda in the kitchen and getting up to grab it. "You sure you don't need something to drink?"

"We're fine," Alix said. "Now are you going to play or what?"

.

The four of them had just finished their first game when Lacy's dad arrived with dinner.

"I didn't realize we'd be having so many over," he said. "Or I would've brought more."

Lacy chuckled. As usual, her dad had brought home more food than any of them could eat. The Hatzi family, after all, were social butterflies - someone almost always had someone over.

"Here, let me help you with that," Marinette offered.

Lacy's dad waved her off. "I can handle it just fine. You four just focus on your game."

"Actually Marinette just finished wiping us all out," Lacy said.

"Is there any game you don't win at?" Alix asked.

Marinette sighed dramatically. "Just matters of the heart."

Lacy chuckled and Alix rolled her eyes.

With the stubborn assistance of Marinette and Lacy, food was on the table within a few minutes.

"Elisabeth, honey! Dinner's ready!"

"Perfect timing." Elisabeth joined the group, hair wet and donning soft pajamas. "Oh good, you three are staying for dinner. We need some extra mouths for all the extra food that miraculously makes it's way into our home." Elisabeth gave her husband a huge welcome home hug before turning back to the teenagers. "Speaking of miraculous, wasn't there another akuma today?"

"Got us out of our math test!" Alix said.

"That's why we came over here, to get some studying done," Marinette added.

The two adults sat down at the table, and the six of them dug into the meal.

"Thank you for letting us stay for dinner," Marinette said. "I know we hadn't asked, but time slipped away and-"

"It's no problem," Lacy's dad replied. "We like having a few extra people for dinner. Besides, it sounds like your parents have been feeding Lacy well whenever she's at your place."

Lacy nodded. "Her parents are super nice."

"So did you have any school today?" Elisabeth asked.

"No," Marinette said. "We spent the whole day holed up in our safe spots."

"Or at least some of us did," Lacy said. "Alix here wanted to see the fight."

"It wasn't just me! Alya and Nino followed me!"

"Yes, because Alya is such a good rolemodel for survival instincts," Lacy commented.

"Were any of you injured?" Her dad asked.

"No," Alix said. "Though I saw Chat Noir take a mouthful of trash."

Elisabeth made a sour face. "Yuck."

"I think you can relax, Lace," Her dad commented. "I'm not one to encourage reckless endangerment, and you should be in hiding, but the damage is undone, right?"

Lacy nodded. "Right. Yeah. I'm just still not used to it."

Could she ever be? After witnessing so much damage in New York, after losing so much... the idea of a reset button was foreign. She was always afraid that it was too good to be true, that if she or her friends ever got hurt-

"I wonder if Ladybug's powers undid the nasty taste Chat Noir must have had in his mouth," Elisabeth wondered.

Marinette and Alix both snickered.

"I hope so. He made quite a face when he was hit," Marinette commented.

"Yeah, he was all like-" Alix gave her best imitation of his face, scrunching her nose up and sticking her tongue out, causing everyone to chuckle.

"I think Chat Noir has a more refined palette than trash," Marinette said when she stopped laughing. "He has visited my parents bakery a few times."

"I don't blame him, it's a great bakery," Elisabeth commented. "My coworker brings in food from there all the time to share. Best part of my work day."

"Marinette brings food for us all the time too," Nathaniel said. "It always brightens up the day."

Marinette blushed a little. "Oh, thanks. My parents love sharing, and so do I! That is, when I don't trip on the way to school and drop them all."

"Yeah, and then Alya gets all the left overs," Alix commented. "I think that's called favoritism."

"It is," Marinette agreed. "What can I say? She and I are best friends."

Marinette's smile stayed for a second, but something must have crossed her mind and her smile slipped.

"Everything okay?" Lacy's dad asked.

"Hm? Yeah. I just... remembered something from earlier."

"You and Alya aren't fighting, are you?" Alix asked. "I mean, you two are practically inseparable."

"Except when it comes to Lila," Nathaniel pointed out.

At that, Lacy's mood dropped.

Alix groaned. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can we not talk about her?"

"Wha- I thought you two were friends?" Marinette asked.

Alix shrugged. "Eh. I mean, she's nice and all, but when she's around, everything has to be about her. Kinda wish she could show some of that support we give her, you know, without making it about all the celebrities she knows. Like the other day, we were talking about Max's video game, and she just had to point out that she knows this famous coder in Texas - I didn't even know there were famous coders! And I know Max didn't mind, but I just - we were talking about what he had accomplished, and she made it about her. It's getting annoying."

"Very interesting. She sounds like she might be doing that on purpose, especially from what -"

"Haris honey, we've talked about you diagnosing my and Lacy's friends," Elisabeth chimed in.

"You think she's doing that on purpose?" Alix asked. She frowned. "I... I never considered that. I guess it's possible."

Nathaniel shook his head. "No, Lila's a sweetheart. She wouldn't do something like that."

Alix shrugged. "Maybe. It's still annoying. I want to be able to support my classmates without talking about some celebrity in another country that Lila's met - and especially when it comes to fashion! Marinette's amazing-" Marinette was also blushing at that comment "- and Juleka's finally branching out into modeling, but Lila is always dismissing that. I don't blame you for not liking her, Marinette."

"Oh, uh, thanks," Marinette said.

Alix stretched her arms up above her. "Anyways, have you seen the new identity theories? I mean, I usually ignore them, but these are ridiculous-"

.

As Elisabeth and Lacy cleaned the table and Alix dragged Nathaniel to watch something online, Mr Hatzi called Marinette over.

"Yes?" Marinette asked.

Mr Hatzi pushed his glasses back up on his nose and gave Marinette a warm smile. "I just wanted to talk to you about something."

He sat down on the small couch in their living room and Marinette sat down across from him. He leaned forward on his knees and clasped his hands, and Marinette wondered if this was what he was like with his patients. If so, it was no wonder he was asked (or did he request?) to come to Paris - there was something about his gentle smile that made it easy to relax around him.

"Is everything alright?" Marinette asked.

"Actually, I was going to ask you that. It sounds like this situation with Lila is affecting you more than you're willing to admit."

Marinette blinked. "You - you noticed?"

No one else seems to, except Adrien, and only when he's really paying attention.

Well, him and Lacy. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree here.

"I'm very attentive when it comes to my daughter and her friends," Mr Hatzi said. "And, well, it is my job."

Marinette nodded. "Yeah, it's hard to deal with her at school. Like Alix was saying, she makes everything about her - but the thing is, it's all lies! And not even smart ones! All it would take is one google search, but no one makes her prove her accusations. Alya keeps telling me I'm just jealous, but really, I'm worried for everyone! Alya's been putting so much of her life on halt to help Lila was problems that she can't reasonably have! And Ms Bustier believes her without question! She gets out of almost every hard homework assignment, or leaves Alya or Max or Nathaniel to do it. Every week it's a new injury, except they heal fast or switch sides or - and I'm sick of it! The only people who know she's lying is Adrien and Lacy, but Adrien doesn't have a backbone and she's already scared Lacy to death!" Marinette took a deep breath, her chest feeling a little lighter.

"Feel better now?"

Marinette nodded. "Yes, thank you. Sometimes I forget how much telling someone can help."

"I definitely understand why she's bothering you so much. If I had to work with someone like that, I'd be pulling my hair out. Especially if I thought it was having a negative affect on my coworkers."

Marinette nodded. "Right. Thank you." She took another deep breath. "Do you have any idea of what I should do about it?"

"It's hard to say without knowing more," Mr Hatzi admitted. "Have you talked to your parents about this?"

Marinette shook her head. "Alya's already painted her up to be some angel to them, I don't want them to think that I'm being antagonistic for no reason."

"Do your parents usually believe you?"

Marinette nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. I just - it hurts being called mean or cruel, especially since she's the one doing it to me. I've been bullied for most of my life - I would never do that to anyone else. And yet." Marinette sighed. "But you believed me, I guess."

"To be fair, Lacy's come home with her fair share of complaints." Mr. Hatzi sighed. "I don't know if she told you this, but she had a bully back in Brooklyn who was a lot like Lila. She's too scared of being subject to that again, and I can't blame her. Watching her go through that - but the teachers never believed us, of course."

"She did mention that before," Marinette said. "But she's been reaching out in her own way. Like inviting me here tonight - me and Alya were supposed to do something, but she cancelled to help Lila with her homework. I don't know if Lacy overheard us or could just tell something was wrong, but inviting me here really cheered me up."

Mr. Hatzi beamed. "I'm glad to hear that. Lacy's very intuitive when it comes to other's feelings. She's like her mother like that."

"And like you," Marinette added. "Just talking it out helps me feel better. And knowing that someone else believes me."

"You did mention another friend that believes you," Mr. Hatzi said. "Adrien, was it? I haven't heard about him before. Is he in your class?"

"Yes." Marinette sighed dreamily. "And he's perfect. He has the nicest smile, and he's super kind and-" she stopped when she noticed Mr. Hatzi looking at her with an incredulous look. "What?"

"Adoring words for someone who just accused him of having no backbone."

"Yeah, I know. I always imagined him rising up, a knight in shining armor, against someone like Lila, and it isn't like he's completely abandoned me, but I wish he'd do more."

"Have you told him this?"

"I - well, you see, the thing is, I can't have a conversation with him without stuttering like an idiot."

"So that's a no? I know talking with a crush can be intimidating, but he's not a mind reader. At least not that we know of. Maybe he doesn't realize that you feel like this."

"I never considered that," Marinette admitted. "It's true that he isn't the best at reading social clues. I guess I could try to talk to him."

"Failure to communicate hinders a lot of relationship," Mr Hatzi said. "You'd be surprised how many people forget to communicate the basics."

"I'll remember that. Thank you."

[kingbaekho]

you’re my home (friends-to-lovers!you x jr)

pairing: nu’est’s jr x you

word count: 2.2k

genres: fluff, slice-of-life, slow(ish) burn, friends-to-lovers

a/n: i truly have nothing to do this summer, so i’ll start writing more!

jonghyun’s the yin to your yang.

whenever people find out that you and jonghyun are best friends, they’re always taken aback. it’s no big deal -- you two are used to it, and you’ve spent multiple long nights rambling about it over facetime.

there’s jonghyun, who suffers from rbf, but once he smiles, turns into the cutest human being alive. he’s a serious introvert whose late nights are spent watching anime, reading manga, or playing video games. on the rare occasion he’s at a party (usually having been dragged to it by you), he sticks to the walls with only soda in his hands, carefully watching to make sure that nothing happens to you as you disappear into the crowd. he’s selfless the a fault -- his friends have regularly pointed out how often people ask him for help without giving anything back in return, to the point where you blew up at a girl in middle of math class for asking him for the answers to last night’s homework for the tenth day in a row. jonghyun doesn’t mind, though. he never does. as long as he can be there to make someone happy, he’s happy as well.

and then there’s you, the virtual polar opposite of jonghyun. if you have to stay at home for even one day, you get restless. when jonghyun can’t find his voice, you do it for him -- hence the above incident. while he’ll never say a bad word about anyone, you’re blunt -- if you dislike someone, you’ll make it crystal clear. you like loud parties, dancing, random hookups -- everything jonghyun doesn’t. hell, you even look like the polar opposite of jonghyun. while he prefers oversized sweaters that, according to you, are a “big uwu”, your hair is dyed platinum blonde, with a closet like an instagram model.

yet, you and jonghyun are the best of friends, like yin and yang (for your 18th birthday, you and jonghyun gave each other yin and yang stick-and-poke tattoos that actually didn’t turn out too badly, especially considering the fact that both of you were tipsy). you coax jonghyun out of his shell, while he calms you down and keeps you safe. you’re up in the sky, but it’s jonghyun who keeps you anchored to the earth. it’s been this way ever since ninth grade, when you were the new student that, when you could have had your pick of popular friends, chose jonghyun to sit next to during lunch. and now, four years later, you two even chose to go to the same college.

except lately, you and jonghyun have been growing apart. jonghyun understands -- you’re both 18 now, almost college students. he wants to give you space to breath, to let you grow into your own without him to tie you down. you two are so vastly different, and it makes since that you would want friends that want to do the same things that you do. jonghyun doesn’t mind. he’ll always be here, waiting for you.

after all, he has his girlfriend now. yena is much more like him, and so being with her feels effortless in a way that being with you doesn’t. as much as jonghyun enjoys spending time with you, your boundless energy can be tiring at times. with yena, he could spend day after day by her side, just watching anime. she’s comfortable, a lovely familiarity whereas you’re the unknown. nowadays, jonghyun just wants to be comfortable.

even though for the past few months, you and jonghyun’s communication has disintegrated into exclusively snapchat streaks with the occasional tagged instagram meme, it’s your number that he dials the night that yena dumps him, after he spends hours sobbing into his pillow.

“what’s up?” you answer with your usual brazenness.

jonghyun doesn’t know why, but he feels an urge to get out of his house. he needs a distraction from this heartbreak. “are you free?”

“uh, what’s up?” you ask again. jonghyun realizes that it’s a saturday night. of course you’re busy. he sighs.

“don’t worry about it,” he says.

“no, what’s up?” you repeat. “this is the most we’ve talked in months, something’s obviously wrong.”

for as flighty as you are, you have a sixth sense about these things. jonghyun pauses.

“yena and i broke up.”

“i’ll be there in ten minutes.” you hang up.

“jesus, you look like a wreck,” you mutter when jonghyun climbs into your car at 11 that night. you push a box of tissues into his lap before speeding off into the street. neither of you speak until you reach a stoplight, and you look at him for what must be the first time in months. jonghyun notices that you’ve dyed your hair a fiery orange.

“what happened?” you ask, rolling down your window and tapping your fingers against the side of the car. you turn somebody to love up to a fifty.

jonghyun sniffles. “she said she found someone else.”

“christ,” you whisper. out loud, you say, “bitch couldn’t spot a good thing if it hit her over the fucking head,” in your usual blunt style. it does make jonghyun laugh, though. you turn to him with a small smile. “i think this calls for a midnight snack run, yes?”

he nods. once again, you’re off, going at least 10 over the speed limit, as usual. jonghyun really has no idea how you’ve managed to avoid a speeding ticket in all your years of driving.

“what were you gonna do tonight?” he asks to make conversation. he doesn’t like the silence between them, the awkwardness of it can’t help but make him feel guilty for not reaching out to her lately.

you shrug. “minki’s house.”

there’s a pause before jonghyun says, “you didn’t have to, you know.”

you shrug again. “i can party whenever i want to. i still consider you my best friend, jonghyun. i’m gonna help you out.”

you pull into the parking lot of a grocery store, instantly reviving the old memories of whenever jonghyun would sleep over at your apartment and you two would slip out at midnight to run to the the 7/11 on the street corner, giggling and relishing in the rebellion.

and just like the old days, a mischievous smile spreads across your lips. “come on!” you yell into the windy night air, already halfway across the parking lot despite your heels. you throw your hands up in the air, gesturing wildly. jonghyun smiles, too, as he breaks out into a sprint to catch up to you.

you laugh once he catches up to you. “took you long enough.” once you two enter the store, you hop into a cart. “push me,” you demand, pouting playfully until jonghyun acquiesces.

you two spend what seems like eons in the store, racing up and down the aisles, jonghyun putting in the cart whatever you want.

“soju?” jonghyun is already walking over to the bottles, predicting your response.

“yeah, of course.” you wave your hand dismissively, and jonghyun picks up a six-pack in each hand.

“get wine, too!” you call as he’s walking back to the cart.

“i don’t think we can drink this all on our own.” jonghyun raises his eyebrows

“wrong!” you cry. “if there’s a will, there’s a way!” he just shakes his head and fills the cart with as much alcohol as he can carry.

“this is a terrible idea,” he states as he pushes the cart out of the alcohol aisle.

“you always say that,” you reply, reaching for a bottle of soju.

“at least wait until we pay for it!” he protests.

“fine,” you grumble, retracting your hand.

even though this is the first time you’ve talked in months, it’s easy for the both of you to fall into your normal cadence. by the time you two leave the grocery store, with you handing jonghyun your grocery bags with an overly-sweet smile. jonghyun realizes that he hasn’t even thought about yena. sitting in the car as you drive off into the night, humming along to radiohead, jonghyun traces the yin tattoo on his wrist with his finger. no matter what, at the end of the day, it’ll always be you and jonghyun.

you park somewhere along the bank of the hand river, and with soju and snacks in hand, you and jonghyun settle yourselves on the sidewalk along the edge of the river, where the water occasionally laps up and splashes the sidewalk with a small spray. after the shopping trip, the silence between them is now comfortable, punctuated only by you opening a bottle of soju and by jonghyun opening up a bag of cheetos.

“i’m sorry about yena,” you say after a long bout of silence. you take a swig of alcohol and look off into the distance.

jonghyun shrugs. “i guess it was bound to happen at some point. we’re going to completely different colleges, after all.”

“still.” you turn to look at him. “she’s a dumb bitch.”

he just laughs, used to your bluntness. “i mean, that’s just life.”

“i guess, but still,” you say with utter conviction. “you’re a great person, jonghyun. she doesn’t deserve you.”

“i don’t know,” he says, taking the bottle of soju that you offer him. “different people just need different things in a relationship.”

you set down your bottle with a clunk, and jonghyun realizes that you’ve already consumed most of it.

“are you gonna be okay?” he asks, scrutinizing you with concern in his eyes.

“yeah!” you wave your hand dismissively again. “it’s all good in the hood.” but you’re already starting to slur your words.

“do you want me to drive home?” he asks.

“yep.” you nod, leaning back on your elbows. jonghyun rolls his eyes playfully. he didn’t realize how much he’d missed you. it can be tiring playing catch-up with you whenever you drag him to parties, but it’s these moments, where it’s just the two of you on some random adventure, that he misses, no matter how small the adventure is. to him, being with you is thrilling, like a roller coaster. maybe, after the same-old same-old that being with yena was, this is what he needs.

“i’m sorry for not talking to you.” your voice breaks the silence.

“hm?” he turns to you. “what do you mean?”

“i--” you hiccup. “i kind of made a conscious effort not to talk to you.”

he blinks. “why?”

“because of yena.” you take a hard gulp of your soju.

“what do you mean?” jonghyun inches closer to you, and unsuccessfully tries to pry your hands from your bottle. “you’ve had too much to drink way too quickly.”

“it’s mine,” you pout, curling up into a ball to protect your liquor. “anyway, i didn’t like yena.”

“i mean, she just broke up with me, but she was always nice,” he says, sitting back down. “i thought you two got along okay.”

“no.” you shake your head vehemently. “not that. the issue was that--” this time, jonghyun doesn’t stop you from drinking.

“i like you,” you say finally, suddenly sounding sober. “i’ve liked you since the end of tenth grade.” you turn your gaze to the ground.

jonghyun’s taken aback. out of everything he expected her to say, that wasn’t one of them. your dating history consisted of a stream of college boys who only stayed long enough to buy you whatever you wanted before you moved on to the next. never something serious. never anyone like him.

he’s reminded of when he had a crush on you, too. he thought he’d quashed those feelings with yena. but now, in the cool summer breeze, knowing that you like him, too -- he doesn’t know anymore. maybe it’s just the rush of post-breakup emotions. or maybe jonghyun’s realizing that you were what he always needed.

“i...” his voice trails off.

“i know.” this time, when you speak, you sound weary. “you just broke up with yena. you still have feelings for her.”

he nods slowly. “yeah, but i mean... i don’t know anymore. i’ve had a crush on you, too, ever since the summer before junior year. but i didn’t think you’d like me back... and so i dated yena. so now, i don’t know anymore.”

“i see,” you say carefully. “can you... kiss me?”

jonghyun doesn’t know exactly why he accepts, but he inches over to you anyway. despite the strong taste of soju on your lips, kissing you feels so natural. the way his lips meld together with yours makes jonghyun think that you two were made for one another, like puzzle pieces. there’s no awkwardness, no fumbling. it’s plain and simple, and it’s another reminder that maybe, jonghyun had gotten it all wrong that it’s you he’s really been searching for.

“that was nice,” you mumble once you two finally part, your arms still wrapped around his neck.

“mhm.” he nods, looking down at you with a smile.

“so what do you wanna do now?” you ask, looking up at him expectantly.

jonghyun shrugs his shoulders. “i’m not really sure.” your arms fall away, and he sits down, staring at the twinkling lights of the buildings across the river. “but i have a feeling that this will work out.”

“that’s the most un-you thing i’ve ever heard you say.” you smile, moving so that you can rest your head in his lap. “but i like the way you think.”

jonghyun smiles down at you. “maybe you’re a bad influence on me.”

“maybe so,” you hum, closing your eyes.

jonghyun knows that he’s been getting it all wrong. he thought comfort meant similarity, so he chose yena. but it’s not. comfort is the feeling he gets when he’s next to you. comfort is the feeling he gets when he kisses you.

at the end of the day, it’ll always be just you and jonghyun.

[bonesloveeverandemilyanddavid]

Emily Deschanel on Biggest 'Bones' Lessons, Working With David Boreanaz and Returning to TV

  June 04, 2019 9:45am PT by Jean Bentley

  The actress formerly known as Temperance Brennan is returning to television in TNT's 'Animal Kingdom,' and discusses the evolution of her career with The Hollywood Reporter.

When Emily Deschanel graduated from theater school, she planned to spend her career doing off-Broadway shows and the occasional indie film. The actress, who is best known for the 12 years she spent starring on Fox procedural Bones, chuckled on the phone while remembering those early career goals.

"I remember somebody laughing at me, like, 'OK, if you never want to make any money, then great,'" she told The Hollywood Reporter.

While her earliest credited parts include small roles in not-so-indie films including Cold Mountain, Glory Road and The Alamo, Deschanel's big break came after being cast in Stephen King's ABC miniseries Rose Red. A couple of pilot seasons later and she was the No. 2 on the call sheet for Bones, behind former Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel star David Boreanaz, where she'd spend the next decade-plus of her life.

                          Two years after her Fox drama ended, Deschanel now finds herself headed back to television in a recurring role on TNT's crime family drama Animal Kingdom. While she spent 12 years playing forensic anthropologist and straight-laced FBI collaborator Temperance Brennan on Bones, she's on the other side of the law as recovering addict Angela on Animal Kingdom.

Deschanel spoke with The Hollywood Reporter about her nearly two decades in Hollywood — including following in the footsteps of her younger sister, Zoey Deschanel (their parents are both in the industry; their father is the Oscar-nominated cinematographer Caleb Deschanel and their mother is Twin Peaks actor Mary Jo Deschanel), working with occasionally difficult co-workers, the Bones lawsuit that has made her wary of signing contracts, and deciding to return to the small screen after a hiatus.

When did you start acting?

When I was growing up I always wanted to be an architect, for whatever reason. I guess it's the perfect blend of art and math and science, which, to me, was really appealing. But then I went to Crossroads for high school and I discovered theater and discovered acting, and I really loved doing it. I think I wouldn't have become an actor if I hadn't gone to the conservatory at Boston University for theater. You get to do four plays a year there, and I think I wouldn't have had the experience to give me the confidence to pursue being an actor after college if I hadn't done something like that. Of course, I look back and wish I'd gone to a liberal arts school and got a more well-rounded education, but there's always time to educate yourself, I guess. I think it was probably the right path for me because it gave me the experience, it gave me the confidence to try and pursue acting. My sister was already [acting]. She was always a natural performer, so she didn't need an external source to tell her she could pursue something.

I just loved theater, I loved to study, I loved Shakespeare. I'm the kid that went to Shakespeare camp three years in a row. Of course when I left school I was like, "I'm going to do Off-Broadway theater only and maybe independent film. And that's all." I remember somebody laughing at me, like, "Okay, if you never want to make any money, then great." It was such a specific thing. I can't say that I had a grand plan of what my career would be. Clearly I had one idea that changed completely, and I've done television for many years.

I moved back to L.A. after a period of time in New York and I finally got representation that sent me out. I had representation in New York but I think I got zero auditions for a whole year, so I was just working in a restaurant there, but it was still fun. A few months in, I think it was six months after moving back, I got this miniseries: Stephen King's Rose Red. Such a big job to get, where I was in Seattle for many months and it was so exciting to me. It was not a main character but it was a character that was in the show a lot. It was so much fun and I quickly loved being a complete sellout. [Laughs] I met one of my best friends, Melanie Lynskey, on that. We're still so close. I love the camaraderie with the actors — I love working on set and being on location too, you get to know people even more because you're kind of stuck in a place far away. I loved it.

Then I did a pilot after that and I did a Law & Order: SVU, so my first several jobs were all in television, and then I did some independent films and small parts in other films.

   What was it like when Bones came along? It was probably exciting to book a pilot, but obviously at the time you have no idea that it's going to last more than a decade.

I had zero idea, and that was not my plans for things, either. I had done a couple pilots before and this was towards the end of the pilot season, or the end of their casting of the show, and I got a call to come in and audition for it. I met with Hart Hanson, who created the show; Barry Josephson, the producer; Greg Yaitaines, who was directing it. They laughed at my jokes, so I thought they were really nice people. Especially Hart Hanson loved my stupid jokes, so I'll always remember that.

I remember loving the dialogue between the two characters, really quick witty repartee, and I liked that relationship. I liked that it was a strong female character. When you sign on to do a TV show you have to think about the long term, especially in the beginning when you're doing the pilot, what kind of message you're putting out there for people. Of course this is like the opposite of now what I'm doing — Animal Kingdom is like the worst thing that could ever happen to a person for what you put out there. On Bones it was a different show. Younger people watched it, so you have to think about young girls watching the show and seeing female role models and scientists who are really smart and accomplished in their careers, and are successful.

I thought about all of that and I really responded to the script, and then I met David Boreanaz. He already had the part when I auditioned for it. I remember thinking, Oh, this could last us three years. That would be the longest I could ever in a million years imagine that it could ever last. And then it kept going and going and it was a lot of fun, with some great people. I look back with such fondness.

I [spoke with] a friend recently who was an actor on the show as well, and he was saying, "You seem so might lighter than when you were on the show!" And I'm looking back on it thinking I was so easy-breezy but apparently I was like "I will stress out about every single thing that I could possibly stress out about." It's a lot to be the lead of a television show. It's a lot of responsibility and it's an honor, but you do have to set a tone for a set, and there's pressure to keep the show going and be good. There's all kinds of things that I was probably holding on to that I wasn't realizing, and I look back just remembering all the fun times we had on set with the other actors — like the times in between when they say "cut" and before they say "action" — and of all the conversations we had. I look back thinking I was so easy-breezy but was usually very stressed about everything.

 She's also a character who is not very emotional, so you probably also had to tamp down your own feelings more when you were playing her.

Yeah, that's true. I remember the first season doing takes where there was some things that were super upsetting. I remember there was an episode about a girl in foster care and my character was supposed to be in foster care and I was just bawling crying. We couldn't use any of it. I was so upset but my character was so cut off emotionally. I loved, like I was saying, that we had these strong female characters. Hart Hanson, who created it, was a feminist himself and we talked about how my character would never be saved by the male lead until I saved him first. We had things like that, and my favorite thing ever was when I met young girls who said they wanted to become scientists or they were in the process of studying science because of watching the show. That just makes me so happy that we had that kind of impact on people in such a positive way.

What was it like working with David Boreanaz, who had come off of a decade of successful shows with Buffy and Angel? What was it like for you as a relative newcomer to be paired up with someone who can be notoriously prickly sometimes?

No comment. [Laughs.] No, he was very respectful of me. He respected me from the very beginning, and I will always appreciate that. We had a great relationship. I had worked for several years but I'd never been a regular on a TV show before, so it was very new to me. He never tried to tell me what to do, never tried to school me in any way or make me feel like I didn't belong or like I was learning and new. We went to an acting coach, so we basically had therapy every week together which is kind of hilarious, in certain ways, 'cause we would talk about our lives as well in the sessions.

We also had an agreement: We spent more time with each other than we did with our own spouses — with anybody else, really — and we fully acknowledged that we would drive each other crazy. We gave each other permission to walk away at different times, or just say "you're really bothering me right now," or "you're annoying me, I have to get away from you." And we rarely used that because we gave each other permission and we talked about it. It really helped us to get along better in that way, and he always respected me and I love that about him. We would laugh about a million things and he became like a brother and played jokes on me and stuff. For some reason it became a joke that if someone was acting badly, you give them a Diet Coke. I don't drink soda, so if somebody brought me a Diet Coke, I knew it was because he would tell a PA to bring me a Diet Coke as a joke. I didn't do that to him every often. He was more of the mischievous one of the two of us for sure, but we had a lot of good times together.

That sounds like a healthy way to approach that type of relationship.

People have work husbands and work wives at their jobs. I think that's not uncommon, but it takes it to another level playing opposite each other and being married to each other, for sure.

You and David still have a lawsuit pending against Fox for withholding profits from the show. Is there anything you can say about what you learned from that whole experience, and how it has impacted your deals going forward, or even advice to other actors dealing with that issue?

I can't really talk about it because it's still going on. It's not over. I would love to talk about it at some point, but I can't talk about it now. I can talk about it with my friends, but I can't talk to the [press] about it. We can talk in a couple of years. It makes me nervous to sign a contract.

                   What's your biggest takeaway from your experience on Bones?

Oh, there's so much. I loved playing that character for 12 years. I loved the people I worked with, not just the cast but the crew. I loved telling the stories. I loved all of it. For me, going forward, I just don't want to do the same thing twice. At this point, I have no interest in doing 22 episodes of a television show. I want to play different characters, I'm open to anything — I'm not going to say that I'm not doing television because I'm currently filming television, but I'm not a series regular. That was a plus to me going in. I have flexibility. When you're a guest star you can come and go, and there's no contract, which is great going into my first job after doing Bones. And I don't want to take too much time away from my kids. So that's basically how I see things now, but I'm not anti-television by any means. It really is the golden age of television right now; there's so many amazing things going on, so many stories that are being told, and people doing it so well. I would never write off doing television.

You produced and directed on Bones, is that something you want to do more?

Yeah, all of it. I loved being a producer on Bones. It gives you a say in things, and I really appreciated that. Directing I really loved, and I'm very much interested in doing more of that in my life, but it takes up time. It depends on the time and finding the right project, because you don't want to spend all that time producing or directing something that isn't something you are completely passionate about. It's about finding the right project, and the right timing, with family and everything, I could do that again.

Your character on Animal Kingdom is very different than we've seen you play in the past.

I was really interested in having the conversation about addiction. The character is a recovering heroin addict, and this is a big issue in our country right now. This is a character you're seeing enter the show at rock bottom: She's just come out of prison, she's got nowhere to live, and she's trying to establish herself. This is a character who is sensitive to things, has seen everything in life, has done all kinds of things in her life, like a lot of people who have dealt with addiction have. This is a character who is a survivor. She's trying to find her way in the world and she's doing to do whatever it takes to establish herself to get what she needs, basically.

So she might come across as manipulative. She always has the reasons for doing what she does, but that's like all the characters on the show. They're like criminals, addicts, sociopaths,and she fits in with all that. My character is the best friend of Ellen Barkin's character's daughter so I've known the family for years and years and years, and I see it as an opportunity for myself to get in with the family and see what I can get out of it.

It sounds like there might be a throwdown between Angela and Smurf, Ellen Barkin's character.

Yeah, my character and her character did not like each other. I blame her for her daughter's death, and she blames me, essentially. There's no hiding how we feel about each other. It gets very intense between the two characters for sure. I'm the woman coming in for her territory and I move in to her house. She is not happy about that. I can't say that there's a throw-down fight between us, but it gets intense. Which is always uncomfortable because I love Ellen Barkin so much as a person and as an actor, so I hate the fact that our characters don't get along. But at least we get along off camera!

Animal Kingdom airs Tuesdays at 9 p.m. on TNT.

x

[yanjuniverse]

This Small Town; one

(previous/next) masterlist

“How was school, bro?” Justin fist bumps Yuqi as she approaches the two of them.

“Boring as always,” she says. She sticks her leg out and pulls her sock down. “Look what I got from soccer!” she says proudly.

“Whoa,” Chengcheng leans down to look at the purple bruise on her leg. “How did you manage that?”

Yuqi shrugs, “My dad says I’m accident probe.”

“Probe?” Chengcheng giggles. “The saying is accident prone, babe. Have you told anyone else that your dad says this?” She shakes her head as Chengcheng stands up. “Okay, good. Be sure you work on your pronunciation.”

“Right,” she nods, lacing her fingers with Justin as they begin to walk home.

Yuqi liked this part of the day - when Chengcheng and Justin would pick her up from school. Since they were let out earlier than her, they started to offer to pick her up and walk her home so that the others wouldn’t have to worry about it. Most days, they’d stop by Linong’s store and see what candies they could talk him into giving them. If Linong was no help, they’d use their allowance and take Yuqi for ice cream at the local ice cream parlour before taking her to the park so she could run her sugar high off. They’re usually back before Xukun is finished with classes and will lounge around until then.

Since Chengcheng was now a high school graduate and taking online courses, he tells Yuqi he might get a job soon.

“Good. Then nobody will chase me around with worms,” she stickers her tongue out.

“Oh, you mean like this one?” Chengcheng grins and pulls a gummy worm from his pocket, causing the little one to scream and clutch into Justin’s side. Justin clicks his tongue and shoves his brother. “What? I’m joking!” Chengcheng laughs as he pulls the pack of candy and throws it into his hands. “Yuqi, I’m a man now. I don’t have time for childish things.”

“Whatever,” Yuqi pouts as they continue their journey home. “My dad says just because your mom let you get tattoos, doesn’t mean you’re still not a cry baby!” Chengcheng scoffs, not feeling the least bit hurt by her words.

They reach the apartment buildings twenty minutes later. Chengcheng and Justin come just in time to see Zhengting. He was a doctor at a hospital nearby. He’s been living in their building for maybe six months now, fresh out of college and just starting his internship at the hospital. He usually bumps into the three on his way out for his night shifts.

“I’ll never understand why someone as rich as you chooses to live in a place as ratty as this,” Justin jokes and Zhengting jogs down the steps.

Zhengting shakes Yuqi’s hair as he passes and then runs backwards. “It’s called student debts! See you later, kids! Make sure to eat all your vitamins!” And just as quickly as he came, he leaves.

“What are student deads?” Yuqi asks Chengcheng. “My uncles are always complaining about it.”

“Student debts is basically money you owe the college you go to that you’ll have to pay back,” he explains simply. “It’s really complicated and stuff unless you get a scholarship.”

“Scholarship? Is that a type of boat?” Justin chuckles at how cute Yuqi is.

“A scholarship is basically just money people give you if you’re good at something or of a certain race or height or even if you’re left handed, like yourself,” he winks at her. “You can even get one for dance or soccer, kid. So, carb up and make the big leagues so I can babysit your couch and TV in the future.”

“You wish,” Yuqi scoffs as she walks up the steps. “My dad says that as soon as we get our own house, you’re not allowed anywhere near it!”

“Did he now?” Chengcheng laughs. He’s immune to these empty threats. Even if Yanjun really did want to keep Chengcheng away, Chengcheng would still be glued to his side. It’s like they’re social soulmates or something, Yanjun swears it. “Well,” Chengcheng laughs as he jumps up from where he was sitting, “you tell your dad to remember that when I make it big.”

“As a what again?”

“An actor,” Chengcheng rolls his eyes. “Your Uncle Zhangjing is right. You’re a shit listener.”

“Yeah? Well you’re a shitty person!” Yuqi retorts.

Justin jumps at her words, covering her mouth. “Yuqi!” he squeals. “No bad words!”

Yuqi manages to pull away from Justin and huffs. “Uncle Zhangjing says that I have every right to curse at Chengcheng-ge if he keeps cursing at me!”

“Yeah, well if your dad hears about this, he won’t be very happy. Now will he?” Justin warns as he picks the extra key from Yuqi’s backpack. He swings the door open to their apartment and toes his shoes off. “Plus, Chengcheng is your gege. You have to speak nicely to him.”

“But Lingong-ge says I don’t have to be nice to anyone who isn’t nice to me,” she says a matter of factly.

Sometimes, Justin wishes Yuqi wasn’t so quick on her toes. He decides to give up the fight as Chengcheng falls on the couch.

“Let’s do homework, yeah?” Justin smiles as he leads her to the kitchen counter. “Ge,” he calls out. “Why don’t you come and cut up some fruit for us to snack on?”

“Why when there’s a pack of oreos in the cabinet?” Chengcheng scoffs, getting up nonetheless. “I’m sure Yuqi would like some oreos.”

“Uncle Chin says that I can’t eat a lot. He says we’re supposed to celebrate something tonight,” Yuqi says as she writes her name on her math assignment. Justin raised his eyebrows. “Daddy applied for a job. It’s at that magazine he’s always reading. The one for parents.”

“Ah,” Justin nods. “The one for iQIYI. I hope he gets sponsored by Nongfu,” Justin pouts. “I can only spend so much on water before I’m flat broke.”

“Aren’t you always flat broke?” Chengcheng jokes as he cuts up some strawberries.

“Not the point,” Justin rolls his eyes.

Chengcheng surpresses his chuckles and continues to cut up a small amount of fruit. He leaves them in a bowl in front of the two before going back to the couch. Meanwhile, Justin helps Yuqi with her division homework and tells her to read ten pages of her book before she can play games on his phone.

Xukun and Ziyi come home from school and work soon after. They both kiss Yuqi on the cheek before moving to bussle around the kitchen.

“Yuqi, why are you still in your uniform?” Xukun ushers her down from her seat at the table. “Go change so you can help me and Ziyi. Okay?” Yuqi groans and trudges off to change. Xukun smiles at Justin. “Staying for dinner?”

“Can’t,” he says as he starts to pack. “Our parents want us to eat some of their food every once in a while. Linkai’s even coming down from his dorm to eat with us.”

“Oh, could you remind Linkai about Yuqi’s dance recital next Friday?” Ziyi says as he shuts the fridge, the dry erase calendar staring at him.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Chengcheng smiles as he approaches the counter. “We’ll be off now, yeah? Save us a slice of cake!” he waves. “Bye Yuqi!” he yells.

“Bye!” her voice faintly replies. The two head out before Yuqi can come back.

Soon enough, Zhangjing comes home to see the guys already prepared the side dishes for tonight. All he has to do is fry the chicken up and everything will be set into place.

When Yanjun comes home, Yuqi is busy setting the table. As soon as she hears the door click, she drops all the forks back onto the table and speeds towards the door.

“Daddy!” she jumps up and down, grabbing into him.

Yanjun picks her up, spinning her around. “Hey bubbly. How was your first day of school?” he kisses her cheek.

“Good! I made a new friend today! Her name is Minnie! Like the mouse!” she says as Yanjun carries her to their bedroom. He places her down on the bed and turns the shower head on. “How was work, Daddy?”

“Hectic as always,” Yanjun throws his apron on the floor. “But guess what Daddy did?”

“What?” Yuqi asks.

“He got a new job at a magazine company! And I’ll get to work from home! Isn’t that exciting?” Yanjun grins. “I’ll actually be home to tuck you in at night, kid!”

“Really?” she grins.

Yanjun nods, leaning down to kiss her nose. “Now you run out there and finish setting up the table while I shower. Okay?” Yuqi nods, her little feet pattering across the floor as she rushes out. Yanjun sighs happily.

Things are finally going right.

-

They all eat until their bellies pop. Each of the guys wash their food down with a bottle of beer. Yanjun even allows Yuqi to drink a soda because tonight was such a special night.

When they finish up, Yanjun takes Yuqi to lay down in bed since she had school in the morning. He moves to take her socks off so they don’t get lost in the sheets when he notices a big bruise on her leg.

“Yuqs,” he frowns. “What happened this time?”

“I fell while playing soccer,” she explains with heavily lidded eyes.

“You sure?” Yanjun runs his thumb over it. She winces and pulls her leg back. “You gotta be more careful, Yuqs.”

Yanjun thinks that maybe Yuqi is anemic or something. She always has bruises going up and down her body. Part of him hopes that that is the case and that she isn’t being bullied at school. But at the same time, who would bully his Yuqi? She’s the sweetest thing anyone will ever meet until you tick her off. The little girl knows how to pack a punch. He and Ziyi taught her how to after they found out on of the boys at school pushed her off the swingset last year.

“Yuqs,” he whispers.

“Daddy, I want to sleep,” she whines, burying her head into the pillow.

“Yuqi, listen,” he shakes her. She looks up at him with bleary eyes. “If anyone is bothering you at school, you need to tell someone. Okay? A teacher, me, one of your uncles, even Justin or Chengcheng. Don’t let anyone push you around. Got it?”

“Got it,” she nods. “Can I go to bed now?”

Yanjun smiles and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I love you, baby. Sweet dreams.”

“Night,” she yawns right before she fall asleep.

-

“You should get this one,” Justin points at the mac book. “Our school has these. They’re really cool.”

“We’re not looking for cool, Hao. We’re looking for affordable,” Yanjun rolls his eyes. “Where’s Yuqi?”

“Her and Chengcheng are looking at some toys,” he says as his fingers dance along the keys of the laptops. “I guess an HP could work too. Not my style but-“

“I just need something to type on,” he waves his hand. “That laptop that all of us share has too many viruses. I’ll never get an article done on there.”

“Well maybe you guys should stop downloading so much porn and get a real date,” Justin mutters. Yanjun smacks him on the back of the head, causing the younger one to yelp out in pain. “Hey! I was just saying!”

“I knew I should’ve waited for Linong to get off from school,” Yanjun shakes his head. “He’s smart.”

“I’m smart too!” Justin retorts.

“No, you’re just a smart ass,” Yanjun rolls his eyes. He picks up one of the laptops that aren’t that pricey but also don’t look like they’ll fall apart and decides that it’ll have to do for now. “Go find Yuqi and let’s go.”

“Roger that,” Justin salutes.

Yanjun heads to check out. He was busying himself reading the box that he didn’t even notice that the children had returned until Yuqi called his name. “Yuqs!” he gasps as he sees a tissue shoved up her nose. “What happened?”

“Daddy, you said my nose bleeds whenever it’s too hot,” she explains. “And it’s really hot in here.” She’s right, the heater was on full blast and Yanjun even found himself sweating a bit. “Gege wanted to take me to the bathroom but he said I can’t go in the boys’ bathroom.”

“No, you can’t,” he clicks his tongue, leaning in closer to inspect her skin. “I’m going to buy you a helmet for christmas. Sound good?”

“That’ll totally mess up my hair!” she whines.

Yanjun pecks her forehead then stands up straight. “Chengcheng, you and Justin go take Yuqi to the car so she can get out of here. I’m going to finish checking out.”

They agree and leave with her. At the car, Chengcheng uses a waterbottle to wash her face a bit before buckling her in.

“Yuqi, you have go to start toughening up if you wanna make it to the big leagues,” Chengcheng says. “We need to give you some protein.”

“Dude, she’s like seven. Lay off,” Justin scoffs from where he’s sitting. “Yuqi, you can do whatever you want. Don’t listen to Chengcheng. He’s stupid.”

“Stupid isn’t a nice word!” Chengcheng pouts as he slides into the front seat. “And what do you even wanna be, kid? Ever thought about it yet?”

Yuqi thinks for a second, pondering the thought. “I wanna be like my daddy!” she exclaims.

“You wanna be a waitress?...” Chengcheng questions.

“No, stupid!” Yuqi crosses her arms. Justin tries to hold his laughter in. He’ll let this one slide. “My daddy chased his dream and he’s a writer now. Why do you think we bought a laptop today, huh?”

“Cut the attitude before I cut your hair while you sleep,” Chengcheng snorts.

“Justin-ge!” Yuqi frowns.

“He won’t,” Justin reassures her. “We’re not allowed in your room, remember?”

“Well Chengcheng isn’t allowed to eat candy after dinner but one time, me and my daddy woke up and saw him eating oreos on the couch at like three in the morning!” Yuqi says. “If I wake up and find out my hair is cut, I’m going to punch you, Chengcheng-ge. Uncle Ziyi taught me how to and he’s in boxing!”

“Oh, I’m so scared of a seven year old!” Chengcheng rolls his eyes, reaching back to flick her forehead.

“Hey!” she yells. Just then, Yanjun slides into the driver’s seat. “Daddy! Chengcheng-ge just flicked my forehead!”

“Tattletale,” Chengcheng sticks his tongue out.

“Can’t you pick on someone your own size,” Yanjun groans, flicking his forehead. Chengcheng winces and rubs the spot. “Stop picking on children, you dope.”

“She started it,�� he pouts.

“And I’m ending it. God, I thought I was a father of one not two,” Yanjun rolls his eyes. “If you left a mark, I’m going to kick your ass, Fan.” Chengcheng knows it’s an empty threat but either way, still sits as close to the door as possible.

Yanjun backs up the car, turning around to see Yuqi already fast asleep. He smiles at her before turning around to take them home.

[amyscascadingtabs]

you must be my once in a lifetime

Jake had said that night at Shaw’s he could pinpoint the exact moment he knew he wanted to spend the rest of her life with her. It wasn’t quite as straightforward for Amy. Not that she didn't want to marry him - the opposite, of anything - there were simply too many moments to choose from.

Or, how Amy figured out she wanted to marry Jake.

2976 words // read on ao3

Jake had said that night at Shaw’s he could pinpoint the exact moment he knew he wanted to spend the rest of her life with her.

It wasn’t quite as straightforward for Amy. Not that she didn't want to marry him - the opposite, of anything - there were simply too many moments to choose from.

She had never put marriage or kids on the physical life calendar. It was too risky, too uncontrollable and had too elevated of a risk being broken. Thinking about spending her forever with someone had given her more than one panic attack before, and she wasn’t even excessively scared of commitment. She was purely... cautious. She was hesitant to be sure about a thing so definite as forever when death threats and time spent undercover seemed an unavoidable part of the career path she had chosen. And did she really want to settle down only because it was expected of her? No, marriage had been the last thing on her mind for so long the first time Amy thought about it, it shocked even her.

~

Jake had stayed over at her apartment countless times before. She was as used as she could be to waking up to the cutest of light snores and the ever impressive bedhead, and yet this time was special. He wasn’t staying over. He was home.

Yesterday had been a long day of unpacking boxes and laughing over the unreal absurdity of the fact that their possessions were now crammed into the same two-bedroom Brooklyn apartment. After a celebratory pizza dinner eaten straight from the box while they sat on the counter, complete with toasting in orange soda and wine respectively, they were officially living together. His sneakers were on her shoe rack, the skincare products she’d bought him for Christmas had taken place next to her own in the bathroom cabinets, and a single Die Hard poster adorned the inside of the closet where neatly ironed pantsuits and flannels now hung side by side. For the first time in her since-college life, Amy Santiago was living together with someone else.

Her waking up first was the norm rather than it was unusual. With Teddy she’d often found herself bored to death waiting for him to wake up, had even made a habit of going for a run in the morning so she wouldn’t have to lay there idly for at least an hour. She’d never needed an escape-plan with Jake. With him she could lay there for what felt like forever, listening to the sound of his breathing, smiling when she sometimes heard her own name mixed in with the incoherent mumbles he made in his sleep. She could admire the ruffled hair and the sight of him in either a baggy t-shirt or nothing at all, stare at him for exactly as long as she wanted without anyone asking what the hell she was doing, and after the six months they had spent apart earlier she never wanted to stop.

The bed was so much warmer with him in it, a godsend blessing to her always cold self. Moving closer to him so she could obtain more of the welcomed heat, she took the moment in act to press a few lazy kisses to the little dip in his shoulder.

“Mm-hmm”, he responded to this action, voice still heavy with sleep. “Morning, Ames.”

“Morning, Jake.”

“Time is it?”

“Half past eight.”

“S’early. “ He feigned annoyance, putting his right arm around her to draw her so close she was practically on top of him. “Need more sleep.”

“Jake, we shouldn’t waste a whole day because we have off. We should get up and eat breakfast.” An idea popped into her head. “I can make pancakes.”

“Oh, no .” The look on his face as she said this was one of genuine horror. “I’m not letting you almost burn down my kitchen again.”

“ My kitchen? Excuse me - since when is this your kitchen?”

“Since yesterday! And I’m not letting you set fire to it.”

“Okay, then.” She reluctantly moved to allow him the chance to get out of bed. “You’re in charge of pancakes.”

“For you and only for you, Amy Santiago.”

She helped set the table and make coffee while he whisked together the ready-made mix and flipped imperfect, but guaranteedly less burnt than hers would have been, pancakes. Maybe , Amy thought when they sat down to eat, the two of them could do this for a long time .

~

The m-word wasn’t yet explicitly on her mind. Somewhere in the background, though, she could feel it hiding.

It hid there as winter turned into spring and the cherry blossom trees in Central Park started blooming, as she booked the sergeant’s exam with shaking hands and created a notoriously detailed schedule to have time for studying, work and little bouts of free-time where she could get them.

It hid there when she and Jake babysat Terry’s kids and she listened to him try to explain racism to two four-year-olds without frightening them. When they left Terry’s house still chatting about what an exhausting but also rewarding of an experience babysitting had been, she had sworn she could feel the voice in her head change from kids are out of the picture to if I want kids, I want them with him .

It hid there when he found her on the rooftop of 397 Barton Street, convinced her to take the exam and promised of course things would change between them if she passed , but change wasn’t always a bad thing. She’d linked hands with him as they walked to his favourite ice cream place after the test to celebrate, thinking once again maybe they really were in this for good.

It hid there in the car at Flaxton Hill farms when she promised she would wait those fifteen years if she had to, would keep working and fighting and doing it all for him. It hid there when she gasped for breath after the jury declared him guilty and it hid there when the first visiting day finally came and she got to hug him and breathe in his scent for a few dreamlike seconds. It hid there when she finally calmed down after an hour-long panic attack in the car as they were about to leave, because Boyle didn’t know how to help her through them like Jake did and she needed Jake there with her , now and maybe even forever.

~

“I’m never letting you go again”, she whispered when he was finally filling up the space in their bed that had been empty for those eight, long weeks of prison.

“Good”, he whispered back, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close, close until there was no space between them at all. “Because I’m not leaving.”

“Good. Because I don’t want you to.”

“I love you.” He kissed the top of her head, cupping her face with both his hands to look into her eyes. “So much. I missed you so much. And as much as I thought about sex with you while in prison, which I promise was loads and definitely more than I thought about the food I wished I was eating, I think I’m going to pass out if we don’t go to sleep now so it’s going to have to wait.”

“A true romantic.” She laughed and pressed a last kiss for the night to his lips before closing her eyes. “I’m just glad you’re here. There will be other nights.”

“So many other nights”, he agreed.

Maybe the rest of our lives , the voice in her head whispered. I really want it to be the rest of our lives.

~

“I think I want to marry him”, she admitted to her two year younger brother, Tony, in the end of a long phone call where he’d originally called her to get a big sister’s opinion on a girl he’d started seeing.

(“You’re good with love stuff”, he explained when she asked him why he was calling her for romantic advice. “How are things going with Jake, anyway?”)

“Well, maybe you should. You guys seem pretty solid.”

“He literally just got out of prison. I don’t think it’s the greatest time to propose.”

“You don’t have to do it now. But you could - I don’t know - set a date? Mark a random date a few months from now and decide if he hasn’t proposed by then, you’ll do it.”

“...Actually not a terrible idea.” She reached for her pen and notepad to scribble a date down, the first she remembered.   14th of January 2018 - the four year anniversary of their post-bet-date, exactly three months away. “Thanks. How… when did you get so supportive of me getting married, anyway?”

“Because I’ve only seen you with him once, but in all of the time I spent growing up with you I still don’t think I ever saw you so happy. Not even when you won your school’s Math competition in sixth grade or when you got into the academy.” He coughed, and although it wasn’t a video call she could swear he was blushing. “If you tell any of our other siblings I got all emotional on the phone with you - “

“I won’t, Tony. Promise.”

She folded the note carefully after drawing a heart around the date, then hid it in one of her old art history books where she knew Jake wouldn’t go looking.

~

Seventeen days later his proposal still took her entirely by surprise. It was all she’d ever dreamt of, butt-mentions and all, casually moving her to tears when Jake admitted planning the heist turned proposal was the one thing which truly kept him sane during prison.

“We’re getting married!” They repeated it to each other between kisses over and over while celebrating at Shaw’s, her strict rules about limited PDA becoming decreasingly strict the later it got and the more drinks she had.

“Everyone heard you the first time, you don’t have to keep repeating it”, said Rosa with a swig of her beer. Jake’s gaze didn’t stray from Amy’s as he answered.

“Too bad, because I’m never going to shut up about it.”

She tried out the words for the first time in her mind the next morning, whispering them over and over to herself.

Jake Peralta, my husband.

She loved the sound of them as much as she loved the sight of the gorgeous ring on her finger.

~

Even when all of her careful planning for the perfect wedding was shattered into smithereens by a bomb threat, the ceremony still ended up being the most wonderful memory of her life. It wasn’t even remotely close to what they’d planned, but it was beautiful and it was them and nothing could have made it more perfect.

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you”, she told him after her vows, meaning every word of it and more.

Had anyone told Amy back when she’d just started enjoying the company of her immature but entertaining deskmate she would be sliding a thin gold band onto his left ring finger one day, she wouldn’t have been able to stop laughing. Jake Peralta, growing up enough to want to settle down? Unlikely. Her, falling for the goofy grin that absolutely did not make her heart skip a beat sometimes? Not happening. The two of them becoming something other than two strictly professional colleagues who were both highly skilled at their profession? Never. Until they did.

She’d fallen for his ability to make her laugh, stumbled again for the unusual yet fascinating way his mind jumped to conclusions in its own way, and tumbled right down a rapidly descending hill for the way he showed he genuinely cared about her whether it was as a friend or as something more. And yes, fine, he was stupidly attractive as well. The smirk had done things to her from the start, but so had the soft brown eyes making her feel at home when she looked into them, so had the hands she kept imagining roaming her body whenever she let herself look at them for more than a split second.

Three years of being in a relationship with him had taught her not only an unreasonable amount of Die Hard facts and too many Taylor Swift lyrics for her liking, but also the charm of sometimes breaking rules and allowing things to be unpredictable. It had taught her even though they appeared so different, their competitiveness and passion made them strikingly similar when it came to the important things. He had grown up a little, learned how showing emotions didn’t equal death and preparing for things could be of great benefit sometimes. She had learned relaxing a little didn’t automatically lead to the worst outcome, and even if it did, he would be right there with her to handle the consequences.

(She had also learned Jake Peralta was a great kisser.)

(Great at other stuff, too.)

( God , she was lucky.)

How could she not want forever with that?

~

“Crazy to think the two of you are married”, said Rosa when they were all at Shaw’s after the ceremony, sipping the glass of whiskey she’d asked for after Amy insisted she would buy her a drink as a thank you for the bouquet and attempt at fixing the veil. “Gina and I were betting on how long you two would make it when you first got together, but neither of us thought you’d last more than a month.”

“Why not?”

“Felt unlikely, I guess. Never thought you’d date someone from work, or someone who wasn’t the single most boring man you could find. Kind of seemed to be your type for a while. But you surprised us all. Well done.” She raised his half-full glass to her friend’s champagne flute. “Jake’s earned himself one hell of a badass wife.”

“Wife. Sounds so official.” Amy faked a shudder. “No going back.”

“Not unless you get a divorce. Don’t get a divorce, please - Charles would probably kill himself”, her best friend and fellow sleuth sister added.

“I don’t think we’ll be needing one.” She looked over at her husband, perched on a barstool talking to Gina, warmth and affection emanating from the knowing smile he aimed at her upon meeting her gaze. “I haven’t gotten to say the words my husband nearly enough times yet.”

“God, you two are going to be so annoying from now on”, Rosa groaned.

~

They slept in late the next morning, feeling rather well-deserved of some rest after yesterday’s chaos.

“Hey.” She flinched awake at the sound of Jake’s voice, still raspy from sleep, next to her ear. “Morning, wife.”

“Morning, husband.” Saying the word sent a warm, tingling sensation through her body. “You woke up before me.”

“Not by a lot. It’s boring being awake without you.” He kissed her temple, once, twice. “Then again - every single day I get to be with you at all is crazy to me.”

“I recognize that. Is it a Harry Potter quote, by any chance?” She teased, dragging her left hand through his hair to draw him closer and kiss him, not even caring about morning breath when he was right there and real and her husband.

“For practically having made them up on the spot during our impromptu wedding outside a police precinct, I think my vows are actually better than a Harry Potter quote.”

“You think your wedding vows are better than ‘Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light’?” Amy gasped, doing her best attempt at looking offended.

“I’m saying they’re up there, somewhere.” There was the goofy grin again, melting what little attitude she was trying to gather. “Also, you’re wrong about best Harry Potter quote. The best one is clearly ‘Do not pity the dead, pity the living, and above all those who live without love’.”

“Are you trying to seduce me with the help of Harry Potter quotes?”

“Is it working?” She kissed him again in response, with more passion and intensity now than the lazy kisses of before.

“I can’t believe my husband is a giant nerd.”

“Hey! That’s ‘giant nerd who read those books because his wife loves them so much’ to you, thank you.”

“I know. I love you.”

“Love you too.” He laced his left hand into hers, admiring the sight of their identical gold rings gleaming in the sunshine seeping through their blinds. “Ready for our first breakfast together as spouses, Mrs. Santiago-Peralta?”

“More than ready.”

Since Amy Santiago learned to read at a mere three and a half years of age, she’d gone through an extensive list of favorite words. Epiphany had been one of them, one of the first big words her father had taught her to pronounce. Serendipity, expectations, quintessential, oblivion - lengthy, sophisticated words to embellish written as well as spoken sentences.

Eating a fresh cream cheese bagel from the bakery down the street and drinking a scalding hot cappuccino from the same place with Jake trying his best to help her solve the Times crossword puzzle she hadn’t had the time for yesterday, she decided it was time to add a new one to the list.

Husband - defined by Oxford Dictionaries as a married man considered in relation to his spouse and defined by her as the word she could now use freely to describe the love of her life.

The prospect of forever had horrified her up until she started realizing she might actually want it with the man sitting across from her, chewing absentmindedly on the lid of a pen and making little progress with the puzzle he had offered his assistance with. Now, she felt like forever wouldn’t be nearly enough.

[wannawrite]

All For One

who?: Wanna One’s Lai Guanlin, Cube Ent’s / Pd101’s Yoo Seonho genre: 🌸 type: bullet point blog navigator. • you have two Cube Chicks for best friends • is this a good or bad idea? this...is the cutest, softest thing...possibly...ever. I’ll try my best! Made me think of my best friends a lot  :”) TYSM @isaluciavevo for requesting - Admin L

• ahhhh the Cube Chicks are back together again • honestly,,,who...just who in the right mind thought that this would be a good idea • because it is a GREAT idea • but • warning: Cube Chicks may cause trouble out of good intention • good vibes only • that’s how y’all roll • if you want it • you go get it • and your boys will support you • both are competitive sportsmen • basketball team!! • captain • and vice-captain • it’s a v v messy yet memorable friendship • sometimes it’s you trying to keep Seonho and Guanlin alive • sometimes it’s Guanlin trying to keep you and Seonho from getting arrested • yeah • it’s Seonho for everything • have you seen this boy? • he gets in so much trouble its a miracle you haven’t bailed him out of jail yet • but he’s a good boy, don’t worry • he’s just clumsy and childish • kind of doesn’t think of consequences before acting • sort of plunges both feet into hot water without dipping his toes to check first • but • that’s how your entire friendship functions • it’s a good friendship • you share a class with Seonho • and it’s crazy • he sits next to you • some days he never pays attention to the teacher and gossips to you throughout class • other days he’s like • ‘hey seonho can I borrow a pencil-’  • ‘shush. pay attention to the teacher, y/n.’ • damn Seonho I just wanted a pencil I didn’t ask for this slander • but you love him • in school, he’s the first person to greet you at your locker in the mornings • with a bright smile, his backpack slung over his shoulder • then he ruffles your hair playfully, messing it up completely • true friendship :”) • ‘ahh, I know that person you like will definitely take notice of you now,’ he teases • then you guys walk to assembly and class together • sometimes in class, you guys have a sheet of foolscap paper in between the desks • and either one of you will draw or write some really cute, heart-warming, heart-fluttering bullshit • okay you get my drift • ‘you’re doing amazing sweetie’ • ‘cheer up!’ • ‘have fun at basketball practice later!’ • ‘i miss Guanlin :(‘ • ‘>:( what about me’ • ‘I love Guanlin :D’   • ‘ :”( ‘ • ‘ily2 dw ❤️’ • Seonho smiles before folding up the paper and sticking it into his bag just as your teacher walks by • he has an incredible knack of never getting in trouble • he can create trouble but he doesn’t get in it • explain later • okay now • Seonho is also super concern and caring • during lunch if he gets pizza, he makes sure to buy some for you too • and Guanlin of course • ‘pfpp lol hyung you can buy your own’ • ‘yah, you still owe me from last week’s frozen yoghurt.’ • bickers over food • visits your house very often • he just comes to nap on your bed • ‘nooo I’m here to inspect if you cleaned your room like you said you did in your Snapchat story.’ • really, he just wants access to your pantry and kitchen • while eating popcorn, you and Guanlin doodle things all over his arms when he’s sleeping • not dicks pls • Seonho is a child • he needs his sleep • after sleeping, he makes sure to go out with you and Guanlin a lot • barbecue is a MUST • in fact, the owner is a classmate’s parent • and always give you guys a discount • THAT’S how regular y’all are • and there’s always a tad bit more food for your table • karaoke is a favourite • time for swaggy rapper™️ to shine • speaking of Guanlin • he’s a year older • yet not that much more mature • or sensible • jk, he is • quieter and shyer than Seonho • but just as goofy when he opens up to you • is fake deep • ‘I want to get a tattoo of a burrito because we get so wrapped up in our internal feelings and sadness, that we ignore the crisp and goodness outside.’ • sends really meaningful things to the group chat at 12am • Guanlin🐥: you guys mean the world to me, I would never trade y’all for anything else • Seonho🐣: aww hyung :”) • you: 💓💓💓 • changes the group chat profile pic very often • he went through an entire streak of Kermit the frog for a month • Guanlin really likes memes • more than Seonho • and Seonho has a folder of 500+ pictures of memes alone • at 3.30am, Guanlin will send memes to the group chat • kermit the frog memes • pepe memes   • any other meme you can think of • sometimes recycles memes • edits memes • Guanlin🐥: hey Daniel hyung promised me a lifetime worth of pizza if I gave  Seonho to Minhyun hyung • Guanlin🐥: so lmao bye bye Seonho • Guanlin🐥: you’re the sacrifice • Seonho actually disappears for a couple of hours   • wh00ps • but Guanlin is EXTRA • extra sweet ;) • advises you both of life • ‘now...my young grasshoppers, I’m going to teach you how to sleep in class and not get caught.’ • ‘this is how you secretly eat pizza rolls in the middle of math’ • ‘LiSTEN, this is how you sneak in a waffle maker to make breakfast in morning assembly’ • but he does actually help • he helps both of you with studies • pushes Seonho to study by treating him to pizza • and ice cream • and chicken • Guanlin tells you tips and tricks to memorise math formulas better • uses creative analogies • ‘okay, imagine that x is a sheep. So 2x would mean 2 sheep and then 4x + -3x would be?’ • I don’t even know actually but let’s just pretend I do • ‘guys, if you get Mr Kai as your math teacher next year, tell me.’ • is a nice, responsible and caring older brother • gets really protective from time to time • it’s the small actions that give him away • like • ‘no, I’ll walk you out to the gate, don’t go by yourself.’ • ‘text me when you get home safe, okay?’ • will walk you to the bus stop and take your bus even if it goes the opposite way • makes some lame excuse • ‘uhh, my sister’s friend’s dog is in the area so I’m going to meet him and we’ll go back together.’ • ‘I need to pick up dry cleaning for my mother. You know how she’s fussy about her evening gowns.’ • ‘Lin, it’s 9pm at night...the shop is closed.’ • red-faced • ‘oh’ • Guanlin is #1 on speed dial on both your phones • ‘in cases y’all get drunk, call me, no one else knows how to take care of you two.’ • Seonho always texts him when he’s arrived safely at home • with a cute selfie sometimes • Guanlin tracks both the children’s sleep schedules in his diary watch him • is generous • pays for your haircuts • *pushes both of you into the salon Jinyoung works at* • ‘since school is almost over, you guys need a look for summer.’ • ‘hey Jinyoung, these are my friends so take good care of them wink wonk’ • ;) • I got you • Taiwanese chick is slyer than a fox • Seonho sits in the salon chair with pitch black hair • and emerges with a blonde streak down the middle • you don’t sense anything wrong • until Baejin starts to whip out green hair dye • ‘WAIT’ • you wrestle Jinyoung for that box • ‘HOW MUCH DID GUAN PAY YOU? I CAN PAY YOU MORE!’ • Guanlin’s hair ends up being blondish green • well done • he also once convinced Jinyoung to chop off a good 4 inches of your hair • I could use some 4 inches in height • hah • speaking of height • Guanlin is tall • so is Seonho • and Guanlin is just a bit more of that annoying tall friend who makes fun of everyone who isn’t as tall as them • yes thank you for putting MY box of cookies on the top shelf of my pantry • aww Seonho you sweetheart, thanks for helping   • he smirks and takes the whole box for himself • sigh • tall people • if you hang out in the evenings • Guanlin always drags Seonho’s ass out of your house to the basketball courts nearby • to practice • you know • time to grind😤😫 • you tag along • trying to win against a basketball team captain and vice-captain • some die heroes • ‘WatCH ME’ • your best friends just chuckle and shrug • but they are also your support squad • ‘jUst JUMP YOU GOT THIS!’ Guanlin yells enthusiastically • once, he even bought a loudspeaker • ‘LET’S GO TEAM!’ • and it got taken away by a park warden • then he brought another one • and a policeman on patrol swiped it • so Guanlin relied on his swaggy rapper™️ voice • Seonho becomes the spectator • ‘AND-AND WILL Y/N SCORE FOR THE FIRST TIME?’ • this is how you guys spend the weekends • ‘...THEY DO. A MIRACLE HAS HAPPENED.’ • Guanlin runs and catches you in a hug, overjoyed • Seonho joins soon after • and the three of you collapse in the cold court floor, bursting into laughter • but your heart couldn’t feel any warmer :”) • ‘ahhh, I could spend all night here.’ • but of course, realistically, you can’t • so all of you retire to Guanlin’s mansion • I make him a rich boy in every single one of my works I realised I’m sorry • sometimes it becomes a sleepover • like pillow fights   • making s’mores • scaring the hell out of his chef in the process • ‘dAMNIT GUANLIN YOUR PARENTS WILL KILL ME IF YOU BURN THE BOTTOM OF THIS POT.’ • ‘they’ll fire you if you swear at me, right?’ he says cockily, raising an amused brow • his chef just huffs. ‘I’ve known you since you ran around in diapers, goodness.’ • ahhh • his chef is gracious nonetheless and brings you guys platters of snacks for your movie night • includes a lot of yelling • Seonho getting spooked easily • Guanlin taking time to calculate if the scenario could happen in real life then reacting • the kind of best friends to watch Netflix with you until 12am • ‘c’mon,’ Seonho whispers. ‘Everyone should be asleep by now.’ • the three of you creep up to Guanlin’s spacious rooftop garden • star-gazing time • you pop open the soda bottles and get bags of chips • sipping cola • looking at the stars • back on the ground, head to head to form a circle • ahhh • ‘oh! shooting star!’ • ‘hey, that constellation looks like a horse!’ • it’s just a good time filled with laughter, jokes, food and friendship • as the night wears on, things get really deep and personal • these hangouts have sort of become personal therapy sessions for you • whatever you want to say • say it • all of you trust each other with your lives • a lot of things get lifted off each other’s chest • figure out problems together • help each other out • just a genuine, meaningful time of bonding • when it ends, you feel more secure and loyal to your friends • you and Seonho take the enormous couch in the gaming room while Guanlin sleeps in his bed a few doors down • he makes sure to tuck both of you in • and talk until one of you falls asleep before he tucks himself in • such a pure and real friendship • supportive • loving • loyal • and caring • during Christmas time, you guys team up to bake cookies and other holiday treats • it obviously isn’t the greatest idea • I mean, have you seen Guan and Seonho’s ‘It’s meringue time!’? yeah • seonho insists on icing his own cookies this year • he later spent almost an hour scraping icing off the ceiling of his kitchen • taking turns to help decorate each other’s houses • gift shopping for the rest of your clique together • synonymously agreeing to buy yet another fly swatter for Daniel • maybe some shoe insoles for Sungwoon • savages 24/7 • puns all around • breathe memes • especially Guanlin • like that boy has a basketball jersey with Kermit on the back • he actually wears it out • gave an identical one to Seonho for his birthday • and you received one as well for Christmas • from your Secret Santa • at basketball matches • it’s a given you’re there to support them, rain or shine • so if your crush wants to see you, they attend the game • a night before, you’re spamming the group chat with encouraging messages and gifs • they’re like ‘pffp we don’t need these’ but it actually cheers them up • HEART MELTING • there’s always a small spat in the group chat on whose jersey/jacket you will wear • Guanlin🐥: hEY I’M OLDER THAN YOU. • Guanlin🐥: THEY CAN WEAR YOURS ANY OTHER TIME, THIS IS ONE OF MY LAST COMPETITIONS 

• Seonho🐣: I FRICKIN WASHED AND DRY CLEANED MY JERSEY FOR THIS i’msorryimessedup

• on the day itself, you’re clad in Seonho’s practice jersey and Guanlin’s jacket • the cutest • everyone assumes y’all daring • but all of you are just the closest of friends • friendship goals • plus, they’re the best wingmen • just a super supportive, real, joyous friendship

[zed-air]

Pandemic Thoughts

______

Strange times. Strange thoughts. 

Assorted and unstructured. Updated as needed.

- - - - -

2020-04-23

I spent a lifetime in the service industry, and I’m still very emotionally invested in it. A lot of restaurants will not survive the pandemic. Period. Pick a few favourites and support the hell out of them, as regularly as you can, if you want them to still be around a few months from now. Preferably independent ones that enrich your community. 

For those using third-party delivery services to bring you dinner, be aware: for every $10 a restaurant receives through Skip the Dishes sales, $3 of that sale goes to these delivery services (only $7 goes to the eatery). The pub/restaurant where I worked all those years wouldn't have lasted long with those margins. (link)

I've been hammering on about this for a while, and I'll probably continue doing so. If you're in a position to support local independent restaurants, go to the effort of calling them yourself and collecting your own order. Many offer their own delivery service, so use that when needed. Avoid using a third-party service unless necessary.

I still speak to local restauranteurs and pals in the service industry. They concur: these third-party delivery services are not about supporting local eateries. They were primarily useful for supplementing, not replacing, dine-in business. Overall, they are about convenience - and they are now crippling the businesses trapped into using them.

- - - - -

2020-04-27

Before I left the service industry, I fully expected to spend the rest of my life as a publican, performer, and venue operator. Had my fortunes been different and that proved possible, the current situation would have destroyed whatever I had built to this point. This will likewise be the case for countless others worldwide right now, including established successful ones. (link)

I have no idea what will remain after this - when we reach a point that public gatherings are an option again. Will there be anywhere left to gather? Will there be any venues left where performers and audiences can safely meet? Safely rehearse? Safely travel? 

Have I played my last concert? Have we all? Not a clue.

- - - - -

2020-04-28

I chipped a couple teeth some time in the last month. Thanks to PPE mask shortages and general public health concerns, I’m unable to get an appointment with my dentist of 20+ years. As a result, two relatively minor procedures are likely to spiral into major dental issues before they can be addressed. Probably much more expensive ones too. With a persistent jaw ache to keep me company in the interim. 

About two months ago, I wiped-out badly on slippery ground whilst entering my workplace, and I’m pretty certain I either fractured or broke my tailbone in the fall. It’s made sitting fairly painful, and resuming standing agonizing. Only time and avoiding sitting can really help mend it, so I’ve been trying to alternate between walking, sitting, and lying down whenever possible. Two months later, it’s only marginally better. No point bothering trying to get an x-ray these days. Same goes for the non-essential blood work a different doctor requested.

The pandemic is causing major interruptions and interference in many different areas of life, and might cause a variety of completely unrelated health issues in the process. People will die (and have died) just from the massive disruptions all this has caused. Please keep things like this in mind if your primary complaint is being bored at home, or that you’re being oppressed. 

- - - - -

2020-05-19

I was finally able to get into my dentist’s office today to fix my chipped teeth from a few months ago. Spent the appointment listening to a staff meeting with telephone earbuds, and trying to hear how COVID-World is affecting operations. This is modern life now: work from everywhere, go nowhere, remain active whilst being passive (possibly as your skull is drilled out), and do your best not to catch the plague in the process. Tough times, and tight days ahead.

Keeping busy. The weather’s finally stable enough to allow my wife to start working on her new garden. After a long winter and countless weeks delay, this will be very healthful for her. I’m taking any available radio shifts, workshopping various music ideas of my own, mixing songs for The Bolt Actions album when there’s time, and working with my daughter on her remote schooling. We’re also spending a lot of time learning math by playing cribbage, and trying to take walks when the weather’s agreeable. She misses her school friends and teacher. This is a bizarre time to be anybody, but it must be particularly strange to be a child right now.

Temperament-wise, this period hasn’t been as difficult for us as it has been for so many others. I can spend long periods indoors without irritation or issue, but motivation and action are sluggish as inertia reigns. I should be reading books like mad in the evenings, but I don’t remember the last time I felt like picking one up. As time grinds into a homogenous paste, weeks disappear. This has made keeping up with friends and correspondence far tardier than I intended. The atmosphere has been very good at dispelling impulse activity, though. I don’t remember my last drive-through hamburger or vending-machine soda. Nevertheless, it remains troubling to see so many businesses and friends struggling with the very real feeling that they won’t survive these times, and that what will follow might be unrecognizable.

I hope you’re coping ok.

- - - - -

2020-05-28

Keeping occupied during isolation. I’ve been listening to a lot of vinyl records, and I’ve also been enjoying my long-neglected CD collection now that I have the remote radio kit linked to my stereo.

I’m going through recordings at a pretty heavy clip presently. Keeping track of what I’ve listened to is bogging down my phone with photographs and notes. Decided to change how I’m sharing this information. My posts on zedair.net are a bit clunky and overlooked, and I don’t want to bog-down my own personal Instagram profile with music posts. 

So, I’ve started a new Instagram to better document the Zibliothek. Not ideal, but it’ll keep things orderly and more people are likely to see and/or enjoy it there than they do here. It’ll save me some extra cross-posting time too. Feel free to give it a follow if you like album art, books, films, and other cultural artifacts.

- - - - -

2020-08-13

I’ve now been tested twice now for COVID. Negative results both times, I’m relieved to say.

In Edmonton, most folks are being directed to the same facility in Mill Woods on the city’s south side - walking distance from the neighbourhood where I grew up. The building used to be a Grant MacEwan campus, but has since been converted to some kind of Covenant Health facility. The tests occur in the building’s gymnasium.

I keep hearing that the tests are quick, but both times I've gone there have been 400-500 people in a line snaking around a field. Off days, I'm told, but luckily both had beautiful weather. Each time I got inside, I asked if something was amiss to cause such a backup, and the nurses (who are working like crazy just trying to keep up) can only apologize for the delay. I would never give them a hard time about it, but I still don't know why some days there's a quad filled with bodies waiting to enter, and other days where one can get in and out in under 30 mins. 

The first time I went, I had an appointment for 10:30am. Not knowing what to expect, I arrived at 10:30 and found two long lines of people. The left line is for people with appointments. The right line is for drop-in testing. Finding it a bit perplexing, I asked a random person in middle of the left line if she have an appointment, and for when. Like me, her appointment was for 10:30, and she was a good 200 people ahead of my place at the back of the line. I have no idea if the people in front or behind had the same appointment times. You just joined the back of the line regardless of appointment, and waited for everyone before you to finish. I'm not certain what making an appointment actually accomplishes, but it seems to get you access to the faster-moving line once it actually starts moving. The actual time of the appointment seems meaningless. The appointment line was stationary until around 11:15 with zero movement, but then began moving gradually, slow and steady. I didn't notice much movement in the drop-in line. On that occasion, I was finished by 12:15. 

My second test occurred yesterday. The second time, I decided to try the drop-in. Hindsight has taught me that, though this line is much shorter than the appointment line, it moves far slower. I recognized several people from the appointment line who arrived hours after I had, who were tested and leaving before I'd advanced 50 feet. Lesson learned: always make an appointment, but never for earlier than 11:30am.

I seem to be a beacon to people with questions in situations like this. Behind me in the drop-in line was a very talkative, but friendly woman who was about to fly to Egypt with her husband. They required COVID clearance to be allowed to fly. Anyway, after the first hour she bailed to go collect her husband, who'd been waiting in the car due to mobility issues. I promised I'd hold her spot. They parked far away, so it was nearly another hour before they returned to the line. I enjoyed the quiet interim.

Husband didn't seem to like her talking with a strange man, but eventually decided I was harmless and struck up a separate conversation with me. Given that the line was moving super slowly, and that I'm chronically friendly when there's a language barrier, it made for a long slog when he led with "So, do you think this whole Corona hype is a media invention?" Especially when I'd already said that my profession is in radio.

I don't know whether it was a constructive conversation, but we parted friendly, and they will hopefully have clearance to fly to Cairo in a few days time.

[mp100secretsanta2017-blog]

Part-Time Bonding

From: Cheese 

To: Chushi

Message: Hi there! I had so much fun with this prompt; thanks for all your cool ideas! I would’ve tried drawing it out instead, but my tablet’s ben out of commission these past few weeks, so I had to make a fic of it instead. I hope you can enjoy it anyway, and happy holidays! 

___________________________________________________________________

Wear something you don’t mind getting messy in, the text had said.

Well, thought Ritsu, cheeks flushed in a way that had nothing to do with the frosty December winds nipping at his face, if it stops at just “messy,” I’m setting them on fire myself. His brother meant well; he knew that. Just like he knew that if he met anyone even remotely acquainted with him while dressed like this, he would combust on the spot.

Ritsu shivered, rubbing his mittened hands — who the hell even sells sock puppet mittens? — together. If he were being honest, though, the mittens were the least mortifying part of the whole ensemble. Beneath an eye-bleedingly orange scarf was a truly revolting watermelon-themed turtleneck, hidden from the light of day by a puffy jacket covered in cartoon rodents of some sort. Even his socks couldn’t be spared from creepy-looking strawberries crawling up their sides. The only salvageable parts were the pants, which, save for a patch of bright yellow fabric on the left knee, were an unremarkable gray, and an out-of-order rainbow beanie.

A gust of cold wind stung his face. Grumbling, Ritsu pulled the scarf over his nose, nuzzling into the soft fabric. His brother’s fashion sense may have been corrupted beyond repair, but at least the clothes were warm. Shifting from foot to foot, Ritsu checked his watch. 5:07. He growled deep in his throat; he’d been waiting outside this ice cream parlor over fifteen minutes. If he had to spend even one more mortifying minute in public like this, he would —

“Ah, there you are!” As if summoned by his mutinous thoughts, his brother’s employer came jogging into view. “Sorry about that, the last client took longer than expect … erm, what happened to your clothes?”

“They’re not mine,” muttered Ritsu, shrinking further into the borrowed clothes. “They’re my brother’s.” Reigen raised an eyebrow. “He said my clothes weren’t warm enough, so me made me take the clothes he got when he and Teru went to the mall last month.”

“Ah,” said Reigen, as though that explained everything. Which it did. Hanazawa Teruki was a walking fashion disaster, and the more people realized it the better. If only his brother were one such person.

“Well, it’s not like you can talk!” Ritsu snapped, the flush of his ears hidden by the beanie. “What’s with those earmuffs anyway?”

“What, these?” Reigen touched the hot pink balls of fluff covering his ears. “A gift from a client. I couldn’t think of a polite way to decline, so I figured I’d give them an honorable death in the line of duty. Besides, they’re warm.”

Ritsu grunted. “So what are we here for, anyway? You said an exorcism?”

“That’s right.” Reigen dug around his pocket and pulled out a tattered slip of paper. A sudden burst of frigid air nearly yanked it from his grip, but he held on tight. “Apparently one of their machines started malfunctioning last Friday. When they tried to fix it, it started started spewing hot chocolate everywhere, and no one’s been able to go near it since.”

Ritsu waited. Reigen didn’t offer anything else. “That’s it?” he said, after several long moments. “We’re here to fight a broken hot chocolate machine? Why did I have to come, then? You don’t need me or my brother for that sort of crap.”

“Language, Ritsu.”

“What? All I said was —”

“It might be a cruddy job, but we can’t speak about our clients’ problems that way. It’s unprofessional.”

“Whatever.”

“Also, they don’t sell hot chocolate.”

“What do you mean they don’t —? Oh.” Well, that would certainly explain why they thought it was haunted. But still, what sort of ice cream parlor didn’t sell hot beverages in this weather? At the very least, it seemed like a wasted business opportunity, especially when one considered how prolific dessert cafés were now.

Reigen led the way to the back entrance, where the owner was waiting. After introducing themselves, the owner keyed in the code to the door. The locked beeped and turned green, and Reigen made his way inside. Ritsu followed close behind. “Just — just let me know when you’re done, yeah?” said the owner. She gave them one last nervous smile before shutting the door.

Inside the building was somehow even colder. Ritsu shivered as he watched his breath cloud in front of him, a stark white against the dark backdrop of the unlit corridor. Ahead of him, Reigen fumbled around a bit, searching for the light switch. “So, Ritsu,” he said, feeling the wall next to them, “how’s school going?”

“Fine, I guess.” As they made their way to the main service area, the two split off in separate directions, Ritsu towards the pastry displays and Reigen toward the service counter.

Reigen searched the wall behind the counter. “Mob was telling me you had a math test today; how’d that go?”

“All right.”

A loud clang echoed through the store. Reigen hissed, rubbing his elbow where he’d hit it against a soda machine by the sink. “Just ‘all right’?” he said through clenched teeth.

Ritsu shrugged. “I mean, I got full marks if that’s what you’re asking, but that’s not news or anything.”

“Hey now, full marks is nothing to sneeze at — aha!” With a triumphant grin, Reigen flicked a switch next to the sink. Bright fluorescent ceiling rods bathed the room in an artificial light before sputtering out and drenching them in darkness again. “What the —?” muttered Reigen, flicking the switch off and on and off again.  

“Nice, you broke it,” scoffed Ritsu, making his way over.

Reigen’s eyes flicked nervously to Ritsu’s and back to the switch. “That — that couldn’t have been me, though, right? The lights were probably busted anyway. And frankly, I think it’s better that we know now so we can tell the owner before she opens for business again. Yeah, now that I think about it, this is actually a good thing.” Impatiently, he pressed the switch again. “If they only just broke, shouldn’t the lights at least flicker?”

Just as Ritsu opened his mouth to offer to help, the machine next to them sputtered to life, emitting a strange blue glow. A quiet bubbling sound came from within it, getting drastically louder with each passing moment. “Should we … do something?” asked Ritsu, leaning away from the now rattling machine.

“Ah.” Reigen looked at the machine, then his elbow, then back at the machine. “It seems we’ve awakened the spirit.”

“We? I’m not the one walking around this shop breaking things like a blind ox.”

“All right, that’s fair, I awakened the spirit, but the point remains —” Whatever else Reigen had been about to say was interrupted by an explosion of turquoise light and scalding hot chocolate. Ritsu yelped, barely managing to dodge a jet of hot liquid aimed in his direction. Reigen wasn’t quite as fortunate; he moved his arm fast enough to protect most of his face, but his earmuffs got hit square on.

Ritsu’s eyes widened in concern. Above the din, he shouted, “Are you okay?”

“Just fine!” Reigen yelled back. He scrubbed furiously at his face, wincing. “Wow, that’s hot. Ritsu, think you can take care of this one?”

A silent sigh of relief escaped his lips unbidden; getting hurt on an assignment like this, and on Ritsu’s watch no less, would have been so avoidably stupid. Ritsu rolled his neck, grinning wickedly. “With pleasure.”

From the soda machine rose a whirling cloud of purple and red energy. Two enraged, iridescent glowered at them from its center, and a thunderous voice bellowed, “WHO DARES —”

Ritsu snapped his fingers. 

___________________________________________________________________

“I’m so sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you, but thank you again for all you help!” The owner bowed hastily before digging through her purse. Pulling out a checkbook and a pen, she said, “You said it was your standard fare?”

Reigen sighed, scratching his head with one hand while the other clutched his now ruined earmuffs. “Well, normally yes,” he said, “but because it’s the holiday season, we actually have a special discount going on now, so all consultations, exorcisms, and counseling sessions are thirty percent off.” He smiled, then, and offered her a gloved hand. “I’m glad my disciple and I could be of help.”

“I’m not your disciple,” Ritsu muttered. His comment went unheard.

The owner shook his hand enthusiastically. “No, no, thank you!” She pressed something into his hand, saying, “I know it isn’t much, but I hope you’ll accept these as a token of my appreciation. Consider it a holiday gift, if you will.” Stepping back, she bowed again and headed off towards her parked car.

Ritsu peered over Reigen’s arm. In his hand were two coupons for the ice cream parlor they had just freed. “I guess it’s a chain,” Ritsu commented. “Wait a minute …” He frowned, eyebrows pinched. “These expire today.”

Reigen huffed a laugh, throwing his arm around Ritsu’s shoulder. “Well then, Ritsu my boy,” he said, smiling, “what do you say to dessert for dinner?”

He could feel his eyes widen in amazement. “Really?” His brother never let him have sweets before dinner. 

Grinning, Reigen ruffled his hair and began walking them toward the main road. “Really. It’s on me.” 

Wear something you don’t mind getting messy in, the text had said.

  Well, thought Ritsu, cheeks flushed in a way that had nothing to do with the frosty December winds nipping at his face, if it stops at just “messy,” I’m setting them on fire myself. His brother meant well; he knew that. Just like he knew that if he met anyone even remotely acquainted with him while dressed like this, he would combust on the spot.

  Ritsu shivered, rubbing his mittened hands — who the hell even sells sock puppet mittens? —  together. If he were being honest, though, the mittens were the least mortifying part of the whole ensemble. Beneath an eye-bleedingly orange scarf was a truly revolting watermelon-themed turtleneck, hidden from the light of day by a puffy jacket covered in cartoon rodents of some sort. Even his socks couldn’t be spared from creepy-looking strawberries crawling up their sides. The only salvageable parts were the pants, which, save for a patch of bright yellow fabric on the left knee, were an unremarkable gray, and an out-of-order rainbow beanie.

  A gust of cold wind stung his face. Grumbling, Ritsu pulled the scarf over his nose, nuzzling into the soft fabric. His brother’s fashion sense may have been corrupted beyond repair, but at least the clothes were warm. Shifting from foot to foot, Ritsu checked his watch. 5:07. He growled deep in his throat; he’d been waiting outside this ice cream parlor over fifteen minutes. If he had to spend even one more mortifying minute in public like this, he would —

  “Ah, there you are!” As if summoned by his mutinous thoughts, his brother’s employer came jogging into view. “Sorry about that, the last client took longer than expect … erm, what happened to your clothes?”

  “They’re not mine,” muttered Ritsu, shrinking further into the borrowed clothes. “They’re my brother’s.” Reigen raised an eyebrow. “He said my clothes weren’t warm enough, so me made me take the clothes he got when he and Teru went to the mall last month.”

  “Ah,” said Reigen, as though that explained everything. Which it did. Hanazawa Teruki was a walking fashion disaster, and the more people realized it the better. If only his brother were one such person.

  “Well, it’s not like you can talk!” Ritsu snapped, the flush of his ears hidden by the beanie. “What’s with those earmuffs anyway?”

  “What, these?” Reigen touched the hot pink balls of fluff covering his ears. “A gift from a client. I couldn’t think of a polite way to decline, so I figured I’d give them an honorable death in the line of duty. Besides, they’re warm.”

  Ritsu grunted. “So what are we here for, anyway? You said an exorcism?”

  “That’s right.” Reigen dug around his pocket and pulled out a tattered slip of paper. A sudden burst of frigid air nearly yanked it from his grip, but he held on tight. “Apparently one of their machines started malfunctioning last Friday. When they tried to fix it, it started started spewing hot chocolate everywhere, and no one’s been able to go near it since.”

  Ritsu waited. Reigen didn’t offer anything else. “That’s it?” he said, after several long moments. “We’re here to fight a broken hot chocolate machine? Why did I have to come, then? You don’t need me or my brother for that sort of crap.”

  “Language, Ritsu.”

  “What? All I said was —”

  “It might be a cruddy job, but we can’t speak about our clients’ problems that way. It’s unprofessional.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Also, they don’t sell hot chocolate.”

  “What do you mean they don’t —? Oh.” Well, that would certainly explain why they thought it was haunted. But still, what sort of ice cream parlor didn’t sell hot beverages in this weather? At the very least, it seemed like a wasted business opportunity, especially when one considered how prolific dessert cafés were now.

  Reigen led the way to the back entrance, where the owner was waiting. After introducing themselves, the owner keyed in the code to the door. The locked beeped and turned green, and Reigen made his way inside. Ritsu followed close behind. “Just — just let me know when you’re done, yeah?” said the owner. She gave them one last nervous smile before shutting the door.

  Inside the building was somehow even colder. Ritsu shivered as he watched his breath cloud in front of him, a stark white against the dark backdrop of the unlit corridor. Ahead of him, Reigen fumbled around a bit, searching for the light switch. “So, Ritsu,” he said, feeling the wall next to them, “how’s school going?”

  “Fine, I guess.” As they made their way to the main service area, the two split off in separate directions, Ritsu towards the pastry displays and Reigen toward the service counter.

  Reigen searched the wall behind the counter. “Mob was telling me you had a math test today; how’d that go?”

  “All right.”

  A loud clang echoed through the store. Reigen hissed, rubbing his elbow where he’d hit it against a soda machine by the sink. “Just ‘all right’?” he said through clenched teeth.

  Ritsu shrugged. “I mean, I got full marks if that’s what you’re asking, but that’s not news or anything.”

  “Hey now, full marks is nothing to sneeze at — aha!” With a triumphant grin, Reigen flicked a switch next to the sink. Bright fluorescent ceiling rods bathed the room in an artificial light before sputtering out and drenching them in darkness again. “What the —?” muttered Reigen, flicking the switch off and on and off again.

  “Nice, you broke it,” scoffed Ritsu, making his way over.

  Reigen’s eyes flicked nervously to Ritsu’s and back to the switch. “That — that couldn’t have been me, though, right? The lights were probably busted anyway. And frankly, I think it’s better that we know now so we can tell the owner before she opens for business again. Yeah, now that I think about it, this is actually a good thing.” Impatiently, he pressed the switch again. “If they only just broke, shouldn’t the lights at least flicker?”

  Just as Ritsu opened his mouth to offer to help, the machine next to them sputtered to life, emitting a strange blue glow. A quiet bubbling sound came from within it, getting drastically louder with each passing moment.  “Should we … do something?” asked Ritsu, leaning away from the now rattling machine.

  “Ah.” Reigen looked at the machine, then his elbow, then back at the machine. “It seems we’ve awakened the spirit.”

  “We? I’m not the one walking around this shop breaking things like a blind ox.”

  “All right, that’s fair, I awakened the spirit, but the point remains —” Whatever else Reigen had been about to say was interrupted by an explosion of turquoise light and scalding hot chocolate. Ritsu yelped, barely managing to dodge a jet of hot liquid aimed in his direction. Reigen wasn’t quite as fortunate; he moved his arm fast enough to protect most of his face, but his earmuffs got hit square on.

  Ritsu’s eyes widened in concern. Above the din, he shouted, “Are you okay?”

  “Just fine!” Reigen yelled back. He scrubbed furiously at his face, wincing. “Wow, that’s hot. Ritsu, think you can take care of this one?”

  A silent sigh of relief escaped his lips unbidden; getting hurt on an assignment like this, and on Ritsu’s watch no less, would have been so avoidably stupid. Ritsu rolled his neck, grinning wickedly. “With pleasure.”

From the soda machine rose a whirling cloud of purple and red energy. Two enraged, iridescent glowered at them from its center, and a thunderous voice bellowed, “WHO DARES —”

  Ritsu snapped his fingers.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

  “I’m so sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you, but thank you again for all you help!” The owner bowed hastily before digging through her purse. Pulling out a checkbook and a pen, she said, “You said it was your standard fare?”

  Reigen sighed, scratching his head with one hand while the other clutched his now ruined earmuffs. “Well, normally yes,” he said, “but because it’s the holiday season, we actually have a special discount going on now, so all consultations, exorcisms, and counseling sessions are thirty percent off.” He smiled, then, and offered her a gloved hand. “I’m glad my disciple and I could be of help.”

  “I’m not your disciple,” Ritsu muttered. His comment went unheard.

  The owner shook his hand enthusiastically. “No, no, thank you!” She pressed something into his hand, saying, “I know it isn’t much, but I hope you’ll accept these as a token of my appreciation. Consider it a holiday gift, if you will.” Stepping back, she bowed again and headed off towards her parked car.

  Ritsu peered over Reigen’s arm. In his hand were two coupons for the ice cream parlor they had just freed.  “I guess it’s a chain,” Ritsu commented. “Wait a minute …” He frowned, eyebrows pinched. “These expire today.”

  Reigen huffed a laugh, throwing his arm around Ritsu’s shoulder. “Well then, Ritsu my boy,” he said, smiling, “what do you say to dessert for dinner?”

  He could feel his eyes widen in amazement. “Really?”

  Grinning, Reigen ruffled his hair and began walking them toward the main road. “Really. It’s on me.”

[werm-whole-skwerm]

all of 'em, kiddo. every. single. last. question.

J A Y, YOU FUCKING TURD.

1. How long have you had a Tumblr?5 years. This shit blog turned 5 last month.

2. Describe your first kiss, who was it with, what was it like, where was it etc?It was gross. It was with a boy named Tyler that I was dating at the time. We had been dating for 3 months, and we were at my house watching tv in the den, and I was on his lap, and he leaned down and kissed me and I just went with it. It was gross and sloppy and there was teeth.

3. What’s your biggest regret? I know we all say we don’t regret things but obviously it’s how we learn, from our mistakes. So what’s something from your past you wished you could have changed?The last time I saw my mom before she died, I didn’t hug her, and I wish I did.

4. Favorite Songs at the moment?One Jump Ahead - Sugita TomokazuChim Chim Cher-ee - Terashima TakumaDeal With - OldCodexCollar Full - Panic! At The DiscoBeez In The Trap - Nicki MinajRoundabout - YesI Want You - Savage Garden

5. What is the craziest thing that you have ever done?I smuggled a friend over state lines without her parents knowing.

6. What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you?I tripped at my graduation. Like I hit the step with my shoe and almost fell.

7. Do you have any scars and if so, how did you get them?I have a scar on my right upper arm from getting burnt when I was a kid. I have a scar on my right index finger cause I just lost skin on it going to math class one day? I have a scar on the base of my left thumb from getting it closed in a van window as a kid. My right knee is scarred from falling off my bike as a kid and then a week later doing the same thing and scrapping off the scab and making it worse. I used to have self-harm scars, but I don’t know if they’re there anymore.

8. Where would you like to be in 10 years?Hopefully in an apartment with my friends or my girlfriend with a pug named The Pug Formerly Known as Bagels and doing what I love.

9. What are your views on drugs and alcohol?I don’t really condone drugs past weed and I don’t personally use any form of drug. The exception being alcohol. I love drinking alcohol. I love being drunk.

10. What are your views on religion?Well I’m an atheist, so I don’t really believe in religion, but also if you prescribe to a certain religion then that’s your business and it’s not my place to pass judgment or try to tell you otherwise. Just don’t shove your religion down my throat and accost me for being a non-believer, and I won’t bother you.

11. Have you ever thought about ending your own life? If so, why?Yes, many many times. When I was a teenager I researched different methods of suicide and how I wanted to do. I had things picked out. I still sometimes want to die. I can’t tell you why really. I can’t say it’s all too much or too much stress or anything, but I’m just tired of living and feel like a waste.

12. Write 5 facts people might not know about you.-I’m adopted.-I have 4 siblings, an older brother, an older sister, a younger sister, and a younger brother in that order.-I have a phobia of newspaper.-I was in JROTC for 4 years and won a national award.-I was in honors and AP classes from the age of 10-17.

13. last really important text you got? I know it’s probably not important sounding, but she had texted me about being lucky I was her friend and it made my life.

14. Can you let go?Eventually. It takes a while, but I’m capable of it.

15. Discuss your first love.He was someone I met on Tumblr. He had messaged me something, I could probably find it in my inbox still probably. But we met through here, and he was just great. I loved everything about him. We talked all night, said things to each other that we wouldn’t tell anyone else, were always talking. Every time I saw him I got butterflies and freaked out. He was honestly something amazing to me, but it never came to fruition. I spent 2 years having an unrequited love for this boy until I realized I was gay.

16. Put your ipod on shuffle and write 10 songs that pop up. Explain why each song is on there.Roundabout is on here because I fucking love JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure and it’s a good song.One-Eighty by Summer is on here because Taking Back Sunday used to be my favorite band when I was younger, and I still really like them, but this was also my favorite song for a while when I was a teenager.Kick Me is on here because it’s the only good song Sleeping With Sirens has had in years.Creature is on here because I used to really love Asking Alexandria, and From Death to Destiny is one of my favorite albums of theirs, and this was briefly my favorite song.Stained Glass Eyes And Colorful Tears is on here because I fucking love Pierce the Veil, and this song is so beautiful and great and emotional.Jesus Christ is on here because I love Brand New, I grew up with it, and it’s sad, like me, and can be applied to any ship to make you sad, and I am about that life. It’s also just really good.I Love You 5 is on here because I just added a bunch of Never Shout Never. I never listen to it anymore, but I did used to love it as a teenager.Truce is on here because Vessel is an amazing album and I love twenty one pilots.Let It Roll is on here because I’m a slut for All Time Low and their sophomore album was great.Guns for Hands is on here because, as I said, Vessel is an amazing album and I love twenty one pilots.

17. Name somewhere you’d like to move or visit.Japan

18. Are you currently missing someone?Not really. The only person I would be missing I’ve been talking to for like 16 and a half hours.

19. What are your views on mainstream music?It’s popular for a reason. It’s not bad, and people should just let people enjoy what the fuck they want without being a dick.

19. At what age do you think people should have sex?I’m not at a place to be able to dictate when someone should have sex. Personally speaking, I feel like anything under 18, when you’re a legal adult, is too soon, but it’s up to you. That being said, children really under 16 shouldn’t, but, again, that’s not my place to say.

20. What are your highs and lows of this past year?Well in 2017, I pulled myself out of a depression and met an amazing girl that’s one of my closest friends that I adore. Downside, I’ve been depressed basically all fucking year so far.

21. What are your strongest beliefs?Equal rights for all genders and sexualities, true equal opportunity for people to have homes and doctor. God. I don’t even know anymore.

22. Who are you closest to in your family?My nephew I guess. He’s more like a friend to me than a nephew. My mom biologically speaking I guess.

23. How important do you think education is?So fucking important.

24. What’s one of your favorite shows?Catfish

25. How have you changed in the past 2 years?God, everything. I’ve gotten better about my anxiety and depression. I’ve come to terms with my sexuality. I’ve opened up more, been more honest. I’m a better person now.

26. Name 5 people who are famous who you find attractive.Sakurai Takahiro, Yamanaka Takuya, Morita Taka, Eguchi Takuya, Suzuki Tatsuhisa

27. Name your favorite movie and what it’s about.Naruto: Road to Ninja. Naruto gets thrown into Bizzaro World essentially.

28. Who is someone who fascinates you and why?Boi, this is gay, but Cam. She’s just astounding to me. I love learning things about her and talking to her about everything. I don’t know why. Maybe because I have the biggest crush on her?

29. What kind of person attracts you?Usually the nerd type. Or the tattooed and pierced type.

30. What’s a problem that you have recently had or are currently having?Uh, well, I have a huge crush on one of my closest friends with like no chance of it being reciprocated? I guess that counts.

31. Name something that you miss.Candy and soda. I’m on a diet.

32. Share 5 goals you want completed in the next 30 days.-Get my shit sent off to my new college-Definitively find an apartment-At least play some FFXV and BOTW-Start driving lessons-Pass my classes

33. What’s been the highlight of your month and the lowest point? The highlight has just been reconnecting with Cam more closely. The lowest is probably stressing myself out so bad I almost cried.

34. What’s something that you’ve done in the past that you would never do again?Suck dick

35. What is you’re biggest insecurity & why?Just me as a whole. I’m insecure about everything I am because my whole life I’ve been told I wasn’t good enough, that my sister was better than I was, that I had to live up to these expectations, and now I’m insecure about my body, personality, ethnicity. Just everything.

36. What were the last 3 songs you listened to and what did they mean to you?Roundabout, Kick Me, and Stained Glasses Eyes and Colorful Tears. They each mean something different to me, some aspect of my life represented. The weeb, the wannabe rebel, and the sad sappy bitch.

37. Do you have a toy that’s really special to you and if so what is it, how did you get it etc?I have a pink teddy bear named Pinky Bear that i got in 2000 when I first moved to Georgia to live with my new family. My dad’s coworker brought us toys and she was my first teddy bear and she still sleeps in my bed to this day.

38. Have you lost anyone close to you to death? My mom, grandma, and uncle have all died.

39. What is your purpose in life?To die.

40. When was the last time you cried and what was it over?It was a couple months ago, maybe 2. It was the ending of Final Fantasy XV.

41. If you got to spend an entire day with your favourite celebrity what would you guys do? Play video games, eat junk food, watch anime. I don’t really know.

42. If you could only listen to one artist for the rest of your life, who would you choose and why?Panic! At The Disco because none of Brendon’s music sounds the same and there’s such a wide variety.

43. What are 3 traits that you like about yourself and what are three that you dislike about yourself? Personality wise.I like the fact, I guess, I’m pretty loyal to my friends, I like what I like and that’s just gonna be a thing I’ll talk about forever, I’m pretty decently chill and try to make everyone feel welcome. Boi, I dislike the fact that I’m fucking stubborn to a goddamn t,I will grit my teeth and bear through anything anyone does to me no matter how depressed or uncomfortable it makes me, I will literally break myself just to do something for someone else.

44. Can you cook? If so what are your favorite dishes to make? Nope :)

45. What was the last decision you regretted making?I sent Cam a stupid pickup line because it was both hilarious to me and I wanted an excuse to flirt with her, and I wanted to die.

46. Do you believe in the saying “once a cheater, always a cheater”?Yes. Wholeheartedly.

47. Do you ever wish you were famous?Online famous yes. Not real famous. I wanna be a great online personality and cosplayer. But I’m a loser who doesn’t have a personality or do cosplay well.

48. What’s the nastiest thing anyone has ever said to YOU? Or something that’s hurt you above anything else and why?My ex boyfriend blamed me for causing his anxiety attacks and threatened suicide multiple times when I realistically, or even joked, about breaking up with him. It really messed me up.

50. What mark would you want to leave on this world after you are gone?I want to have left someone happier than when i found them. If I can make one person’s life better, I’ll be happy.

51. Have you ever thought of having plastic surgery?All the time.

52. Have you ever jumped in the pool with your clothes on?Not yet.

53. Have you ever slapped a boy in the face?Of course I have.

54. What’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you?Nothing. No one ever does anything for me.

55. What is one of your favorite memories?All night roadtrip to Nashville with my friends. I won an InuYasha at a truck stop.

58. What’s the nicest present you’ve ever received?My ex girlfriend sent me the Clear nendoroid I really wanted.

59. Have you ever had your heart broken?So many times.

60. Have you ever wanted to change anything about your life? If so, what?Literally everything. Take your pick, I’ve wanted to change it.

61. What is something you feel like you are really good at? Being depressed.

62. What are your top 5 favourite all time songs by your favourite artist?Collar FullSarah SmilesCamisadoHurricaneGirls/Girls/Boys

65. What’s one thing someone has done for you that was really small but made a huge impact?Checked on me when I was feeling depressed.

66. What do you do when you can’t sleep?Bother Cam is she’s awake. if not, then just watch Youtube videos until I basically pass out.

68. If you could change 3 things within your government, what would they be and why?Donald Trump, the Trump administration, the republican party

69. What’s your favourite holiday and why?Halloween cause free dress up holiday.

70. What’s the kindest thing a stranger has ever done for you? Even if it’s TINY like holding a door open for you, something that you remember even though they were a complete stranger.Someone, I cannot remember her name, called me pretty out in public and it made my life????

71. Who’s your favorite cartoon character?Does Sasuke Uchiha count????

72. What’s the first song that comes to your mind while reading this and why?Concrete because I’m listening to it.

74. What would you like to be the first dance song at your wedding?twenty one pilots’ cover of Can’t Help Falling In Love.

75. Have you ever been told you look like a famous person, if so, who?Nope. Never.

76. What’s one thing you can not live without?My phone. It has everything i need on it.

77. What is the most selfless thing you have ever done for someone?I literally have no idea.

78. Are you a girly girl?Fam, I’m barely a girl half the time.

79. What color is your bed?My sheets are brown, but my quilt is mainly red.

80. Do you prefer light or dark haired guys?I prefer no guys.

81. Are you currently frustrated with a boy?I’m constantly frustrated with their existence.

82. Do you have a best friend?Like two or three.

82. What song makes you cry the most?SECOND & SEBRING

83. What’s the funniest film you’ve ever seen?I have no idea tbh. I don’t watch many movies.

84. What’s something crazy that you’ve always wanted to do?Lowkey wanna skydive, but terrified of heights.

85. Has anything ever happened to you that you just can’t forgive?My existence.

86. Ever been really drunk?Almost every weekend.

87. Is there any type of rumor going around about you?That would require people knowing and caring about me.

89. Have you ever felt ashamed about something? If so what was it & why? Everything I’ve ever said and done.

90. Do you keep a journal? If so what mostly goes in it? Random thoughts, feelings, stories?That’s what my Tumblr is for.

91. Do you like somebody?Yes. So fucking much. I think I’m dying.

92. Craziest shit ever done?Left town in the middle of the night with friends without telling anyone?

93. What’s the saddest story/one that’s touched you the most that you’ve ever heard on the news?I dunno. I don’t really watch the news.

94. If you were told you were going to have 3 daughters, what would you want to name them?Nixie, Valor, Elliott

95. Do you have a middle name and if so, what is it?Ugh. Yeah. It’s Marie.

96. Are you in a relationship?Nope, but I sure wish.

97. Do you enjoy drama?When I’m not involved.

98. Are you a virgin?Sure as hell am.

99. Are you short or tall?Short af, fam.

100. Do you have siblings? If so, what are their names and how old are they? Andres - 31Olivia - 26Ariana - 18Jacob - 17