#a swimming pool at my old school for some reason

[running-in-the-dark]

I'm usually quite happy that I can at least imagine voices (despite having aphantasia; it's very difficult and only works in very specific circumstances)

unfortunate side effect: my brain has decided to get one of Dan's silly little screams stuck in my head and it's been jumpscaring me with it :)

[octuscle]

From tutor to rookie of the year

Hi, my name is Jake. My company has hired me to tutor a few students with poor grades. That's not necessarily the reason why I started working at the auditing company. But first of all, I'm new here and I'm not going to refuse right at the beginning of my career. And secondly, becoming a teacher had actually been an option for me. Maybe it's fate now or something.

The first lesson gets off to a very promising start. I almost have to tear myself apart to leave your office and get to school on time. But when I arrive, there is a yawning emptiness in the classroom. Only after fifteen minutes I hear noise in the corridor and a couple of football jocks barge in the door. A few still in football gear. And all obviously unshowered after training. Phew, it stinks. And as I look into the handsome, square-cut faces of the boys spraying with testosterone, I'm suddenly back at school. The small, clever but shy boy who, at best, the stars of the football team overlook and, at worst, stuff into the toilet. I clear my throat and say that I'm not here for fun either and that I'm asking for some attention. The boys barely react. Damn it, it's not my problem. I explain a few linear algebra problems on the blackboard and ignore the paper airplanes. I have my school-leaving certificate. I have my master's degree. And my bonus doesn't depend on the grades of these idiots. At least I hope so.

After the debacle of the first tutoring session, my appetite for the second is very dampened. But it was already hard enough to get this internship. The firm is one of the most prestigious accountancy firms in the city. And if my pro bono job as an intern is tutoring the idiots on the football team twice a week, I'll survive. Apart from the 60 hours a week in which I have to pore over balance sheets, that doesn't matter any more.

These days, the musclemen are even on time. And somehow nicer than last time. They even ask me reasonably sensible questions like whether you can predict the trajectories of footballs. I take this as an opportunity to tell them something about vector calculus. They collapse with laughter. "Bro, I was joking. And football isn't math. Football is strength and speed." I'm about to take a breath and say something about Newton and the relationship between force and speed. But instead of listening to me, the jocks start bragging to each other about their heroic stories on the field. And I can't help but listen to them spellbound. When the lesson is over, I look after them with fascination. I wish I could have been more like them at school.

Shit, because I'm the only nerd on the senior team who isn't a complete failure at sports, Coach made me give math tutoring to the football team. He thinks the Meatheads might have a little bit of respect for me. Shit! Them for me? I for them might be more correct! The thought of explaining math to my secret crush forms a wet spot in my Calvin Klein shorts.

I expected the boys to keep me waiting. If they were also punctual and disciplined off the pitch, they wouldn't need any help. And I don't want to tutor them any more than they want to be tutored. We reach a compromise. You listen to my math tutoring for half an hour. And then we'll go out onto the pitch for half an hour and play a bit of football. God knows I'm not unsportsmanlike. But soccer has somehow never been my sport. I'm more of a swimming pool or gym kind of guy. Team sports? Not really.

Shit, yeah, I'm no rocket scientist in math. But I have quite good grades in English and history. I'm not going to fail this year. Why the fuck do I have to go to tutoring with the other bros from the football team? I have no idea. But seriously, the tutor is a total loser. A beanpole in a stuffy shirt. The idiot even wears a tie. Seriously, who wears a tie these days? If I had to wear a tie, I'd change jobs. Or if I had to shower after training. Shit, these are just rules that can come from old fat men. Bros like me and my bros smell like test… Testo… Well that hormone stuff. Sweat, musk and Axe. If I didn't have to go straight to detention again, I'd let the loser smell my armpits… But I'm a sophomore on the team right now. Let the juniors and seniors do that.

"Jack, bro!" This is Chuck. The QB on the team. I can tell by his voice. And by his smell. And I'd also know it by the taste of his cheesy boner…. But he stays locked in his jockstrap cage right now. What a damn shame! "Bro, where were you in tutoring? The dean was there. You're in fucking trouble!" Shit, tutoring! I was at the gym. The other guys are all so pumped. I don't want to lag behind any longer. "Shit, dude, we said you were in the bathroom. The loser tutor didn't dare contradict us. But I think you have to let him suck you off so he doesn't tell on you." Hehehehehe, I like that idea. There are still 40 minutes until football practice… And I haven't cum yet today. "Is the loser still in the classroom?" I ask. Chuck nods. I fist bump him and say that I'll sort it out quickly.

If Chuck and Matt go to college next year, I have a good chance to be the QB. But until then I still have to build up a lot of mass. Those two are just in a whole different league. And I'm damn jealous of the hair on Matt's chest. You should see the bush under his arms. Dude, the man is going to be a fucking gorilla! Shit, I'm not half the man those two are. You can tell immediately by the size of the bulge in our compression shorts. Nevertheless, neither of them mind if I fuck them. But they like fucking me even more. Without eye contact. Otherwise it would be totally homo!

We skipped tutoring again today. Coch covers for us while we're in the gym or doing our laps on the cinder track outside. Nevertheless, it's still up in the air whether Chuck and Matt will be at college next year. And whether I'll be a junior by then. But screw it, NFL pros don't need to know math.

[sk8terhoons]

Sunghoon fic recs

@asahicore Cherry Pits

This fic contains smut

Pairing: Dilf!hoon x younger!fem reader, neighbors to lovers

Word Count: 12.9k

Synopsis: Your alarmingly empty bank account forces you to find a last-minute summer job so that you can afford a trip with your friends. The extremely handsome customer that comes into the store just happens to be a young single dad who's renovating the old house next to yours. The tension that settles between the two of you as you start helping him fix up his house soon becomes unbearable, but it's all one-sided anyway, right?

More fics under cut!

@asahicore Stupid In Love

This fic contains smut

Pairing: hoon x fem reader, childhood best friends to lovers

Word Count: 22.1k

Synopsis: One night early on in your summer vacation, your best friend Sunghoon admits that his biggest anxiety about starting college is going there as a virgin - one thing leads to another, and you end up learning a few things from each other. The more time passes, the more obvious it becomes that your feelings for each other surpass friendship, but with the end of summer looming over your heads, it's hard to tell where these newfound emotions will lead you.

@jaylaxies To All The Boys I’ve Fucked Before, To The Boy: Who Took Me To Prom

This fic contains smut

pairing: Best friends brother!hoon x fem reader

Word Count: 19.6k

Synopsis: Prom—the last event of senior high school was right around the corner, but the only person who you wanted to go with had rejected you for his own reasons, leaving you upset and unwilling to attend the event. however, your best friend, mina, was hellbent on making you attend it and being a sweetheart, she ends up persuading her brother, sunghoon, to be your date for the night.

@zreamy SPF 23

This fic contains smut

Pairing: Sunghoon x fem!reader

Word Count: 31.8k

Synopsis: For as long as you can remember, your summers have been much the same, largely spent in your hometown, relaxing by the local pool. when you get back home this summer, things seem like they'll go the same way, until you get to the pool that is — when did the lifeguard get so hot?

@neo-percs Deep End

This fic contains smut

Pairing: Rich!Sunghoon x fem!reader

Word Count: 36.6k

Synopsis: After saving Sunghoon from drowning at the local pool; y/n offers to give him swimming lessons which leads into way more than expected.

@simpjaes Night Shift

This fic contains smut

Pairing: Boss/ Cam boy!hoon x afab reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Synopsis: Sunghoon, a keen and professional man between the hours of 8 AM to 5 PM. ServiceKing, a faceless and proud man between the hours of 9 PM to 12 AM. Sunghoon’s secret night-life has nothing to do with the faces he sees day after day...until it does.

Or the one where you pay for a one on one call with a faceless cam guy you’ve been watching for a little while, and the next day your boss is avoiding you like the plague. 

@simpjaes Day Shift

This fic contains smut

Pairing: Boss/ Cam boy!hoon x afab reader

Word Count: 14.5k

Synopsis: After finding out that your boss has seen, heard, and instructed you through some pleasurable nights while parading around as a faceless cam-boy, you decide that your best course of action is to: call out sick. use vacation days. avoid Park Sunghoon at all costs. Unfortunately, ten days doesn’t appear to be nearly enough time to erase what’s happened, and Sunghoon refuses to be avoided.

Or the one where sunghoon pretends that he isn’t an anxious mess over accidentally exposing himself and you just so happen to have a lot of fucking empathy. 

@jlheon Love Exists, I’m Full Of It

This fic contains smut

Pairing: Situationship!hoon x fem reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Synopsis: When park sunghoon breaks up with his long time girlfriend he needs something to get his mind off her, you happen to be the perfect distraction : a girl who’s naive and has never had a boyfriend

My 1st fic rec list! I hope you all love it, I worked super hard to pick my favs so i hope you all enjoy!

[littleroaes]

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before, tbz

PAIRING ⏵ ( 2nd pov, you ) fem!reader x lee hyunjae, lee juyeon, ji changmin, kim sunwoo, eric sohn

at the last two weeks before the semester; your younger brother leaked your old love letters. when you return to university, you work as a part time assistant for the hockey team. the charming crush of your youth has read your letter and makes a deal to not spread it if in return, you'll be his fake girlfriend for the upcoming house party. that night sets off an event with all five letters.

GENRE ⏵ FLUFF, college!au / university!au, setting around 2013 ( 2010s!au ), 2000s!au ( childhood ), to all the boys i’ve loved before!au, summer!au, some angst since we do only have one end game, childhood friends2lovers, hockey player!hyunjae, playboy (with a soft side)!hyunjae, short fake dating!au side plot, boy next door!eric, frat!eric, rich kid!eric, flirty but shy!sunwoo, old summer love!sunwoo, reader is an medical assistant, lots of pining, mutual pining, cats!!!, nerdy oblivious juyeon, literature major!juyeon, history major!changmin, changmins bad at sports (sorry bub), 3 different types of parties!, a pool party, a house party, a beach party (i don’t even like parties irl!)

WARNINGS ⏵ reader is good at sports ( volleyball ), hyunjae is a little mean/ manipulative at the start, reader gets drunk twice, sunwoo once ( oufff ), swearing a few times ( fuck, shit ), some jealousy, bad dancing (specially from reader), reader's zodiac sign is a capricorn (for a joke), kissing, pet names ( angel, princess ), proofread once ( i feel like ive forgotten something but hope not😭 )

WORD COUNT ⏵ 19 k

playlist i listened to while writing

this is my fic for @deoboyznet the love letter collective event ! if you specifically want to know which members will have more romantic storylines and who reader will end up with; i have written it out at the end of the post! ( if it being your bias is important for reading ex ). though all five will have cute/ flirty moments with reader! i changed to 2nd person pov for no reason😭 i hope you don’t mind here’s a 500 word teaser before commitment ( it’s in 3rd pov for now! )

like and reblog are highly encouraged !

01 . CHAPTER ONE 

IMAGINE THIS; ONCE UPON A TIME, FATHER OF YOURS SAID THAT TO SCOUR THE EVIL THOUGHTS OCCUPYING YOUR YOUNG MIND, ONE ONLY HAS TO WRITE LETTERS. What a magical solution to all the finite problems of youth! That’s what you thought even as you started to come of age and the inevitable falls of love. Each time, when your innocence was consumed, little by little, by the harsh realities of romance; you spit it out on a piece of paper, enveloped it, stored it in a box (extra security measures) and sheltered underneath your bed. 

And now, you’re in university. Back home for the last two weeks before the autumn semester. Laying against the bed–it reeks of school mornings of 2005–and still holds those letters beneath. The pink hues on the pillows are still there, maybe a little washed out. All butterflies stickers from magazines are plastered on furniture that shines, just slightly, when the sun goes down underneath the neighboring roofs, lucent through the open windows. 

You’ve hung out with Eric, a childhood friend. Bicycled down the gravel paths fenced in lines through houses. Side by side, always trying to one up the other like you always did. Take a swim in the same lake, in the same spot those old pictures show. Like those days; the sun never falters until it all stands on the edge between diagonal roofs. 

And amidst your childhood lies your younger cousin. Bare arms touch each other as you lie side by side with feet over the pillows, and noses –the paper box of letters. She told you about a longing crush she has for a boy in the parallel class. When overconsumed by nostalgia; you couldn’t refrain from dusting off the old box. And that’s how you ended up back with the letters you swore to withhold. 

There are five of them. 

The first one is Lee Jaehyun, a three year older popular student who you had a trivial crush on in middle school ( together with everyone else). In all honesty you didn’t know much about him; just that he was cute looking. There’s a sort of emotional torment in recalling the one sided adoration while leaned out the school window to see him play football. Even his name haunts you still in uni as your roommate had a crush on the shining hockey player the entire two semesters.

In short, everyone liked Lee Jaehyun. 

Next is Eric Sohn, your childhood friend, the boy next door, even first love? He has many titles you realize. He lived in an impressive house north from here, one that hosts many parties every time his parents take the trip to their summer resort. At some point, it felt like he knew every kid in town. Luckily, you have never been the jealous type. Despite being each other’s ride or die since ten, you never confessed the secret ways you looked at him back in the sandbox.  

Third is Sunwoo–just Sunwoo; you never got his last name–from summer camp who you even ( jokingly ) got married to. Your first summer at thirteen, away from parents, with kids the same age. When recalling it all back, that summer feels as if taken out of a movie, and you fell head first, three meters deep with the boy. Sunwoo always stood in the center ( bad and good��mostly bad tbh ). You got paired up for the kayak; it pissed rained and your coordination couldn’t take you ten meters. But you remember every word he said as butterfly inducing nonetheless. After that, at night you snuck out of your cabins to watch the stars. And when that summer too ended, you swore your heart shattered into million pieces.

The fourth is Lee Juyeon, a boy you had never seen before until his cat got pregnant by yours. Scuba Steve ( long story ) had been gone for some days until another family came up to their door with him. For half a year, it felt like you saw Lee Juyeon everyday. He was just as enchanted by kittens as you ( if not more ) and you two would visit each other just to cuddle with them. The teenage heart used to rush with the mere presence of him and together you named all the kittens–until they were sold off. Then they eventually stopped seeing each other. Though he still lurks around as a poet’s ghost around campus ( source Eric ). 

The last one, Ji Changmin, the son of your mother’s friend. He teached you calculus for a while in high school. To be fully transparent, you didn’t learn much from him that year because all you did was leaning on the kitchen table while adoring him until the rims of his glasses slipped. He always scolded you endearingly when you didn’t listen ( which was the majority of the time ). Ji Changmin always wore cute polos with neat pants–now when thinking about it, mother might have approved if you got together. But it’s too late. He went to uni; and simply left you with a newfound thing for glasses ( still wearing cute polos in uni ). 

And that’s all. You sometimes wonder if it was a mere symptom of youth that resulted in those letters. Since uni–outside a campus crush or two-–that compelling yearning for someone has never come back. 

Eventually the bird’s cease to sing once the sun swallows entirely by the horizon, and cicadas can be heard through the open windows. You leave the letters as the two of you close the door. Mother asked if you and your cousin wanted to go with the rest of the adults down to the green field at the center of the neighborhood, you said yes. 

When the heavy door shuts against the frame, voices from your younger brother’s room at the highest floor seeps through the windows.

( next morning ) 

“Mom, you haven’t seen some letters?” You stand at the stairs to look down the kitchen counter where mother and your brother turn from the pantry light. 

“Three’s blue and two pink envelopes?” You ask again. 

Mom shakes her head, “No, I haven’t?” 

You sigh, sprint up the second floor. 

“Y/n?” 

Call of your name echoes through the frame into your room. To look over the bed and see your younger brother centered at the white rectangle. His fringe like curtains reluctant to open as he looks elsewhere. You come up completely. 

“What?” 

“The letters…” 

Your ears perk up, “You’ve seen them?” 

“No, I took them…” He says guilty and starts tearing off paint from the wall. 

“The guys wanted to prank you yesterday, we sent them, I’m really sorry.” 

He looks up again, “But I told them to not do anything more.” He reassures, but his voice trails off as you neither alienate or sigh at this confession. Eyes, lifeless as the posture in your arms hanging off your stale corpse. 

“You did what?” You ask; wishing you heard incorrectly the first time and he crashed a vase instead. 

“We sent your letters..” He says hesitantly with eyebrows knit. 

You close your eyes. Take your hands up your face to cup it and breathe in. Autumn semester starts in exactly 13 days and you know at least half of the letter receivers attend. And definitely all five live in the city. 

To breathe out, hands fall in your lap. He cocks an eyebrow at what one could guess is a meditation session before you open your eyes. 

“I’LL KILL YOU!” 

02 . CHAPTER TWO

( tuesday afternoon ) 

The letters were out; an existential dread running on two bags of pure sugar surged within you. A sensation you were oblivious to existed. First week went, and you hoped the mail man had fallen over and left the letters on the highway, doomed to get run over til their unreadable. But those wishes perished the very moment Eric Sohn came chanting underneath the window. The characteristic bird chimes and mowers intertwined in green leaf rustle; his voice echoed through open glass. You told mom not to tell him you were here; that you had already taken the train to the city. 

Destiny was in your favor for once, and your mother did lie when Eric came to the front door. 

So far, none crossed fate with the receivers of your letters has ensued. Eric was the only established friend in your life, hence you held yourself far, far away from any business major hot spots. Though, just after achieving three days. The first afternoon at the start of your part time; rulers leave you forced to stare eye to eye with receiver number one.

“This is Y/n, she will work as your athletic trainer assistant for this semester.” The trainer lifts hands to his side to make it even clearer than it already was. It is damn cold beside the ice rink–which you thank god for since your face would be blistered red otherwise. As he presents for all tall men in thick layers of hockey protection, they stare; you’re left to make a timid jazz hand motion with a strained smile. 

“I’m Y/n.” Hands fall back to your side and concentrate all might to look at the other eight people–not the one to the right. 

“She will be helping me with equipment and aid; so you’ll see her around a bit.” 

The players wave past you in turn; to introduce themselves in a mere identical manner. The last name pains deeply as you pretend to find shoelaces loose. 

“Jaehyun.” 

You can’t see his expression, not even when eyes come up. Only his back covered in blue jersey greets you as he steps off the plastic flooring and onto the ice. 

Though, it is an immediate opportunity for breathing room when all players go to practice. The plastic walls become solid and you look over the formations on ice. Maybe you got yourself free from this one? Maybe Hyunjae also thought it was so damn awkward that it’s easier to ignore it. You hope deeply while taking off one glove, as sultry temperatures rise beside the rink. 

Followed by the 30 minutes of relocating equipment around the center, the next time you come back into the ice hall, the trainer greets you with sweat outlining his sideburns. You knit your eyebrows before taking eyes off him and onto the player in navy; halting out the rink. Turns out Coach yelled two different instructions, followed after one another; which resulted in a collision of two players. 

He tells you to take him, who limps to the clothing rooms. By immediate compliance you approach his silhouette; leaning on the plastic divide. You can’t make out the exact expression as he faces the ground, but when you ask him if he needs help walking. That horribly handsome face from your childhood looks up. Breathing heavily, but smiles through the fringe. 

“Yeah.” 

You purse your lips into a thin line. To force sight away from him. You look at the entrance to the ice hall while taking his arm over your shoulders. Come to the clothing room after taking off his ice skates. The two intentions of your own conscience fought while walking. Nothing would be more awkward than looking at him again, on the other hand, the concern over his weak state is true as the continuous breath sounds loudly beside your ear. 

Hyunjae’s now on the bench before one side of the lockers. He watches attentively as you round the sport’s bags to take the first aid kit on the other side. The ventilation is the loudest thing in the room. At some point it becomes bothersome as you hold his clothing. You haven't made eye contact since the rink, but senses his gaze fixed over your scalp.  

He talks suddenly.

“You know Y/n, I got your letter.” He says while looking down at your hand; securing the bandage around his ankle. 

Fuck. 

Fingers stale from suspension for a moment on the bandage edges. The material loses around his ankle and you force it towards you. 

A sigh, still looking down, “Listen; it was my br–” 

“It’s appreciated Angel, but it will never happen.” His lips curve higher at one opposite edge, leaving his eyes on you with pleasure like he knows something wrong. 

You let go off his legs; weight from your hands fully on your knees as you observe–rolling your eyes. 

“I know, okay.” You breathe in, “What I was about to say was; my little brother sent it, it was not meant to be seen by you.” Another sigh before you force yourself up from the floor; coming in greater height than Hyunjae. 

“Also; I wrote it when I was like 11.” To turn to the first aid kit, “So don’t get your ego too high, Ice God.” 

“Sure, if that’s what you say, Angel.” Hyunjae takes his palms on the bench surface; leaning against the locker. Arch of his lips might rewrite your life when he proceeds to stare.  

“Why do you even call me that?” You return to the opposite side and cross arms; to perceive him roughly as if to build similar strain in him. But it leaves to no avail. 

“Why?” He quotes, “You’re sitting here healing us, our team’s little angel.” He shrugs his shoulders. 

You look away as to not blossom of rose pigment–instead start organizing the materials in the aid kit. 

“Either way, Jaehyun. You can go now, it’s done.” 

No length of his voice waves via the dead locker ocean. After eyes set on the sections of the green bag; you glance at his bench. And to make you uncertain, his white bandage leg is still in frame. After you pull the zipper and leave the kit in your lap; you stare at Hyunjae who, with the usual smile, stares back. 

“I said you can go…” Quietly and tilt your head towards the door. 

“I know.” Hyunjae voices in the same tone as before. 

You side eyes him still and sits up. 

“I have a deal. Would you like to hear it?” He says suddenly, causing a rupture across the room and stacked tension weighing on your shoulders.

“Okay…” There’s an uncertain principle, written like a formula over your expression, layered in your voice. 

“You go with me as my girlfriend for Jeno’s party this Friday.” He says monotone. 

The first aid kit frees from your hands. Eyes drifting between two points and you’re left looking eyebrow knit at him two meters away. Then, forced to turn when he smiles contempt. You swiftly bend down to take the aid kit before returning gaze. Hyunjae sees in center of two bags hanging; your lips sunder to shove down the offer. Right through the concrete to the core mit. 

“--Or else I’m putting up your letter for the whole campus to see.” 

You immediately shut sealed and eyelids folds half over the curvature. He smiles so hard it borders on comical. And with his arms crossed over his jersey, you only wait for them to fall and see him burst out laughing; tell you he got you. But the silence prevails your thoughts and you start to believe he’s actually serious. 

“I don't believe you.” You look tired at him. 

“No, I’m serious.” Hyunjae still nonchalantly crossed armed and slack raised shoulders. 

As another passage of ventilation comes through, beckon time like the minute visor. You finally sigh and sit down at the bench again. 

“Why even me? Can’t you just ask someone else?” Frustration over the seemingly complex idea for a deal when he could make it ten times easier for himself.

His expression falters for a second after the question. Hyunjae holds his lips sealed; unaltered high posture cause he hesitates to give away his shortcomings. But on the other hand, just a little empathy might do it. 

“I’m actually in a bad position, Angel.” He leans forward, voice quieter.

“Everyone knows I’ve got a girlfriend, but she broke up with me before the semester. They want to finally see her, but I got none” He pauses and leans his chin on his hand and pouts a little, “--just you.”

The withered corners of your face perks slowly up as he ends his sentence. Hyunjae smiles harder, believing he a white winged victory, but it disappears the very second you laugh in his face. Your back comes against the support of the bench while eyelids close to the bottom of laughter.

“She dumped you?” Hands gather in your knees. 

“Too bad, too bad.” 

It’s Hyunjae’s turn giving stale eyes. Though, just as fast; he gathers himself back and leans onto the lockers again. 

“Yeah, is it a deal or not, Angel?” 

You breathe in and look at him still. Hyunjae is more foolish than his appearance gave off, you don't have faith in first impressions. He might as well scan your lost letter and create a chain mail across campus. Partying wasn’t on your list for the first weekend of the semester, but maybe you could get away with lurking against the wallpaper?

You swing your left foot and finally look back at him, “Okay, deal then.” 

Hyunjae smirks. 

“Just this, then we're equal. No grudge, no obligations.” 

“Sure.” He nods. 

You tilt your chin down, “...I don’t trust you, Jaehyun.” 

He lets his hands up, “Look, I’m keeping my promise. I told you my dirt too.” 

“Like not having a girlfriend is as embarrassing as a love letter written in 2002.” 

( friday evening ) 

“Okay, should we go in then?” You take a step forward but get pulled by the shirt. Shoulders come up against him and the arm sleeve of his clothing folds against your nape.

From your first encounter until Friday; you were forced to persevere through charming–bordering on foolish–remarks. The weekend prophesied as projection on the glass entrance that Friday. And it shattered the very moment Hyunjae’s voice echoed from the changing rooms. That he’ll wait for you outside the women’s dormitory. With not a twitch in own expression, he disappeared behind the frame with a wink. 

One of your two roommates was also invited to the house party. The thought of having someone else other than ice god settled some relief. But as you stood waiting in the summer heat of night; the first bus went and fifteen minutes later, you saw a familiar silhouette to the left of the stairs you sat on. 

He didn’t say anything when you refused to sit up and just glared tired at him. 

“What’s with the face, Angel?” He had asked laughing lightly, “We’ll miss the bus.”, you are forced to stand. 

“You’re late, Ice God.” You muttered and started walking towards the bus stop. Hyunjae ran up beside.  

Both talked while the streetlights behind the glass window became all the more distant. Though, it didn’t become hopelessly quiet, as it was a loud friend group behind. You cursed your half sleeve arms when Hyunjae didn’t know the way to Jeno's house from the bus stop. Forced to traverse between bushes when he pointed at mindless directions. Swore that he knew the “shortcut”. And ants might as well have climbed up your toes and into your underwear. 

Now, as either stands before the three stairs and the entrance door in the midst of the front yard. You're pulled against his chest (still covered in leaves). 

“Not so fast.” 

Though he’s out of peripheral vision; the self satisfied tone at every articulate visualizes his smile. His hands like a thin veil across your shoulders–you take a step back from them, to face him fully. 

“Okay then? What’s the plan, Ice God?” You cross arms to build some fence–to match his pride. But either only shares an instant of eye contact before you press your lips and look towards the sad flowers hidden in the corner. 

Hyunjae has always enjoyed teasing people. Of course, a bit apprehensive to strangers, but nonetheless; he waits no time to poke at the first friend closest in sight. He himself has probably no thought about it, but he has a thrill for watching people’s reactions. You were no different. Like the sun; secret behind the trees, it’s always so obvious. You were flustered by his turns of nicknames and comments; so much that you feel to defend your blemished garden. There’s something endearingly professional about you, he thinks. 

“You have a lip balm or something?” He cocks an eyebrow. 

You look at your belongings; eyes looking as narrow threads when apprehensive. To wait for his signature laughter but instead nods his head. You roam around the bag; hands helping to widen your vision, but not enough to notice his fingers below the tender sprout against your head. You look up to see him with one of your two hair clips. Curious what he’ll do; you try no fence when he sets it on his fringe. 

“Now I’m yours.” He smiles. 

Hyunjae comes down to you slightly before returning; taking his eyes off and onto the entrance before brushing past your shoulder. Because of the evening shades, the red pigments on your cheeks withers out with skin as you look behind your shoulder to see Hyunjae’s figure let the deafening conversations from inside, out. He doesn’t look back towards you, and you knit eyebrows before taking double steps up the stairs and into the house. 

With one step you push yourself off the wallpaper; feel shoulders brushing up against your own as the living room opens. 

Hyunjae held your hand for the first half an hour. He then let go when something happened between the friends (you didn’t know). But even then you tailed after like some home cat. Though, as anxiety arose after seeing a group of Eric’s friends in the same room, you cautiously backed into the corner. Some stranger did the rest for you when they collided with the table and Jeno’s grandma fell lid first and shattered on the floor. It became a bit quiet when poor grandma(s ashes) laid there, all spread out. 

After Jeno panicked and some helped clean up; the chamber of incomprehensible conversations started again. 

There’s cliques scattered between the couches. You reach on high toes to see past all the height and hair to locate the frame you came in from. Soon you fall back to your heels, just as the chorus waves through the walls. The crowd suddenly opens up before you when two people walk away. You’re left still and see the open door to the hallway. Shoulders come down in height just as you breathe out. Relieved to take a step to finally leave; but your feet barely touch the wood until eyes widens and air asphyxiates in your throat. 

At the end of the high walls; Eric stands half a meter from the door frame. A lamp shines from behind him, lightning up his half body. Like the sun; he becomes the very essence of the narrow square. 

You turn in a desperate attempt for survival. This season heat and packed building; it all bends backwards through the grass field in all four directions. 

Immediately you see diagonally behind, a staircase up to the second floor. You don't even look back to Eric before colliding with someone's back and sprint up. There’s no lighting up the wooden stairs, just Earth’s wailing moon through the pier glass. 

All those voices–through speakers or chords–wanes like the full to crescent moon month. 

There’s closed doors around. It burns pace from behind and you take the handle of the door left to the stairs. Without letting it open even half way; you slip past the glimpse and lock it shut.

You lean close to the door; feel the cold wood on your left cheek. The party’s over on this side. Like the melancholic memory of falling asleep to the adults in the other room. 

When you expect nothing; a clear voice from behind reiterates peculiar sentences. 

Not strong enough to take your chin off the door; you look past your shoulder to see someone in the bathtub with a damned annotated book. 

It takes about three seconds from first contact until the bathtub guy flinches, “Ah!?” 

“Oh my god!” Your eyes widen while your shoulders contract as wings. 

It echoes between the tiles when his book lands on the bathtub floor. To face the sudden him, distressed; your hands come up in height with your wing like bone. 

“Sorry.” You deadpan. 

“No, it’s okay.” He answers, soft spoken. Eye contact stays fleeting as his fringe–like curtains–falls before the mirage window when he reaches for the book. He mends the awry strands into place; scour the wordy dimensions to where he left off. 

You recall his soft silken halo. Hands come down to its sides and you lean off the door. Like a main character from an academic tale; he looks deeply dreamlike–always somewhere else. The guy feels your presence still as above the title cover; his eyes peeks. 

At this point, you look at him with wide eyes horror; ready for him to either aristocratically roast your fourteen old writing, or condense into second hand embarrassment and hide under the bathtub. 

Lee Juyeon sits in the damn bathtub of a house party. 

As you’re deep in fourth dimensional torment; Juyeon speaks first. 

“Oh, Y/n.” 

He smiles, still holds the book before him. 

You refuse to move, “Hi…Juyeon.” 

“That was a long time.” He switches between your eyes and the next sentence. 

The tension in your frame aids in turn for every second. Juyeon doesn’t mention any letters, but still, you eye him suspiciously. 

“Yeah.” You agree awkwardly. 

“Why are you here?” You ask. 

Juyeon pauses in sentence once again to shift his fringe and look up. You had nearly forgotten the patterns of silence and speaking he so often followed. Back when they always met; they spent so many seconds simply waiting for him to talk. 

“I would ask you the same thing.” He sort of tilts his head attentively. 

With your lips pursed instead of answering, you look to the mirror above the sink. Water in delicate droplets dive in while he turns the next page. 

“Escaping things?” He asks, still reading.  

You nod. 

“We all do.” 

You see him through the mirror reflection. His eyes bent like a faint wave from shore; reassures her lone presence. 

As he closes off himself again; you figure he doesn’t mind their shared space. There’s no sign of knowledge about your letter. Juyeon always reeked of innocence, so maybe you’re wishing. 

But Eric’s still one floor below (taking the safe option). 

You take a seat on the bathtub edge. Shoulder faces Juyeon who leans his back on the discolord cream white tiles. . 

“Should I read something for you?” He asks soothingly. 

You hesitate before letting your hands comfortably down the edge, “Okay.” 

“You want some?” He reaches out the green glass bottle. 

Your shoulders scoff when your mind affirms, “Thank you.” 

Juyeon asks suddenly, “How’s Scuba Steve?” 

Truly the only thing left that protects from not spitting out the alcohol is embarrassment. You do an expression tainted by drinks or unease, and let the bottle down your lap. 

To wonder how in the passage of all years; Juyeon recalls your insignificant house cat that mated with his own (or maybe it’s not that weird when you think after). 

There’s a sort of foolish–bordering on stupid–touch in your chest that he actually never forgot Scuba Steve. One could guess we live on, assuming we’re the only one that remembers. 

“Oh, he’s dead.” You deadpan.

“Oh.” 

The room reaches–what resembles closest to silence– in a house party. Both their lips are pressed in thin lines as they view the tiles above each other again. 

“You then?” Silence starts to torture you briefly in your fingers.

“How’s…” Your face contracts in parallel to the ceiling when scattered bleached cuts from that black little cat sleeping on his floor. 

“Mindy?” He says. 

“Oh, Yeah.” 

They both laugh. 

“She’s still alive.” He lets the book down for the first time (excluding the jumpscare), “She’s with mom and dad. Though she's getting very old now, she eats less and doesn’t even go out anymore.” 

As they sat there talking about cats and poetry; eventually the boundary past the toilet door ceases. You didn’t leave that end of the bathtub (aside from running down the kitchen with Juyeon for more alcohol). 

Now they lie on opposite builds against the cold edge. It’s been sometime since you drank, specifically this much. You can’t talk for Juyeon, but he seems pretty damn wasted too. Your eyes dares to fall while Juyeon’s shirt climbs up his chin as he comes deeper down the tub. 

“I can’t wake up here.” You mumble. Either to yourself or decked out Juyeon; you don't know. He answers something incomprehensible back as a bottle in the scattered line before the bathtub falls. While you grasp for the handle, you turn barely to Juyeon who has his eyes half open. 

“Bye, Juyeon, it was epic.” You wave your free hand, “Tell Mindy I said Hi.” 

“I’ll do.” He tiredly answers back. 

The alcohol withers boundaries within your body. Turns it weak for the downstairs crowd, like poison inducing nausea. In line with poison; You walk as if zombie apocalypse smitten down the stairs without holding onto the railing. Somehow reaches the ground floor and passes through the living room. 

Whatever mechanisms your mind built to defend its dignity from Eric; it took the place of the alcohol in its glass bottles. You’re in the hallway, three meters from the entrance. It’s overheating–worse than a sauna–in the house. Mere presence of tepid air has your hands trailing along the walls. 

A warmth presence dividing the you and outside blocks. In a desperate drunk attempt you push against it and complain. 

“Out the way, you’re fucking hot.” 

“I am?” 

It speaks back, in a tone rather mischievous than what your state calls for. With a shift of the inner lightning; you realize you have your hands on a uni jacket. The logo turns and you would accuse him of motion sickness. 

From your face-low angle, his hands are tied between the blue pockets. You lean harder on the wall to force your chin where his head is tilted with a smile to the same degree. 

“You’re still here.” You still complain and his face drops. Eyes fleet between your face, the opposite wall, and the entrance door to return. 

“That wasn’t a compliment, right?” His fingers directed to his chest. 

“No, Einstein.” Eyebrows knit when realizing you’ve drifted off the main mission. Two shoulders on opposite ends collide as you hastily drag along to the frame. 

“Woah, woah.” The male student takes your wrist lightly, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“I think it’s a great idea.” You defend without knowing. 

“You’re gonna fall down the stairs.” 

His voice is strangely worried which you would have been touched by, if it wasn’t for the drunk state. 

Mid temperatures of night may have transpired any senses as you don't answer. He takes this to come up in line with you; one decimeter away from the first stairs. 

There’s two people, solitude in a hammock to the right, and prey like shadows of two around the grass. Music from inside is still too loud, and it probably hides someone puking at the other end. 

“I’ll help you, okay? I’m not a weirdo.” 

You turn your head to side eye him. Either promise respect or sacrificially bow down, he throws his hand up. To then gently lie it on your shoulder, lead you down. 

“That’s what a weirdo would say.” You mumble without working against him. 

Gravel scratches underneath their feet and the male student takes his hand off your shoulder; though still twined by the wrist. 

He starts, “I need your name, I should call–” 

“Sunwoo!” 

It seizes pulsations from inside, and the male student takes his head from you. Features on his face and the blue jacket is immediately recognised by the one below. The student's eyes are wide and Sunwoo’s eyebrows hold a neutral position above. 

“Jaehyu–”

“She’s my girlfriend!” Hyunjae takes your wrist from him. 

“Why are you still standing here?” He agitates before wandering off the gates with you. 

Sunwoo shoves his hands up in height with his chest once again; not risking to start fighting with the reigning hockey player while he’s half drunk, half angry.

“I don’t think I’m allowed in here.” Sounds tense. 

“It’s not like you’re here to hook up.” 

“They don’t know that.” Hyunjae deadpans. 

After both left Sunwoo at the stone stairs, Hyunjae coursed through the shrubbery once again. You seemed confused over the interaction; he doesn’t think you even realized the hand on your own changed. He thought you would sober up during the train ride, but you still took irregular stepping patterns down the warm lighted gravel path. 

While down the glass entrance to the soaring female dormitory; Hyunjae motioned you to walk in. But as fast he let go of your shoulder, you stumbled three steps back. 

“What should we do then?” Hyunjae asks, frustrated. 

“I don’t know, it was your idea to go the party.” You cross arms. 

“And yours to get so drunk that you can’t stand.” He spits back. 

The night pulls them close when they wait lonely, as if exiled. Summer cicadas swallow their venom words and when one street lamp flickers; Hyunjae sighs and takes a seat down the stairs. You follow. 

Once the peaceful moon renders all its light, leaving it to its bones; your head falls to his shoulder. While you carve shapes in its craters, your arms mindlessly pull him close. The strands of your hair accumulate on his neck, and while filed under the same sky, your breath sounds like a soundtrack to him. 

Like the passage from day to night; he notices his heart like it’s vastly alive. How many eyes have looked at him adoringly, but he can’t even anxiously look down your side. It’s familiar yet strange, he refuses to acknowledge it. And still you are oblivious, can’t even see his blushing face. 

“Shouldn’t you go home?” You ask softly. Tired and slow in contrast to the previous sentence. 

“I can’t leave you here.” He finally looks down at you. 

“Then you're going to be tired tomorrow.” Guilt visually lines your sunken silhouette. 

Hyunjae smiles, “You’re gonna be too.” 

He speaks gently again after silence, “Sober up a bit more and you’ll walk up.” 

03 . CHAPTER THREE

( saturday midday )

Not because you thought you were immortal anyway, but the next morning came crashing through the roof. While grieving your roof (it wasn’t broken), you swore the ceiling fan was up to mock you in its circles. All while last night lingers as a supercut. 

Your two roommates had woken up earlier, they were supposed to go out. Where? You can’t remember; at that point you were still trying to figure out who you bickered with outside Jeno’s stairs. 

Either way, the bottom line is; you didn’t throw off your clothes, and no texts from Eric. 

The campus is idyllically still in late summer. Bird whistle intertwines with the wind who walks like you through the grass, under the same gravel path Hyunjae led you yesterday. Sun drenched tree crowns and your eyes yearn through the gaps. 

There’s a yellow haze over the world and when you take another step; charge in gravel comes from behind. How your legs sway towards the grass border, fleeting levels with your eyes over your shoulder. A bicycle comes half a meter before; stops it with his right foot.

“Oh–Hi, Y/n.” 

“Oh, Juyeon?” 

He jumps off the saddle and they fall in same line. 

“You look a bit tired?” Juyeon asks in a voice, perfect sync with the bird song. Once again the world falls so dream-like behind him. 

“Yeah, yesterday was…stressful.” You take a palm up to your forehead. 

Juyeon’s smile falters, anxiously tilts his head, “Did I do something last night?” 

“No,no–something else happened…not you.” Hand between the open space which you wave reassuringly. His eyes become concerned and yours only redder. Hyunjae’s touch still lingers on that half of your body; you’re afraid Juyeon can see it. 

You ask something else instead, “You then? You’re not tired?”

He laughs softly, “A bit.” “But I’m supposed to meet a family friend.”

You nod. 

Leaving the last tree behind; the blue sky opens up, just in time for his revelation. Juyeon turns to you fully. Merely one can make out the contour of a light bulb above his head. 

“She bought two of our kittens; Lemon and…” He knits his eyebrows, unable to see your eyes, brilliant with curiosity. 

“I forgot.” He laughs, “They’re big now, I see them sometimes.” 

“Really?” 

Juyeon hums, “Do you want to see them?” 

“Of course!..if it’s okay for your friend?”

“She’s a lady my mother knows.” Juyeon takes one leg over the bicycle saddle and tilts his head–so that his hair too–points to the rack. 

“Jump on.” 

To exchange his eyes with the bicycle rack; you purse your lips and walk behind. Hands immediately cling to the metal frame, but as Juyeon weighs forward, you hold onto his shirt. 

Juyeon looks back and smiles as you struggle, “Hold my waist or you’ll fall off.” 

At this moment, you’re so deeply relieved he hasn’t read your letter. It eases the touch in your hands as they come to his front. Shirt folded above your clasped hands lies like a veil.

That feeling, of when a perfect alignment of past and memory presents. It washes over one as soften, melancholic, whiplash. You hadn’t thought about his scent in years, but as they chase the sun yet never pass it, his shirt touches your cheek. In his home where they used to sit on knees beside each other. It flutters your heart tenderly. 

At the high end peak you felt burdensome. Juyeon reassured you while weighing onto the pedals standing. He seemed to quietly persist in breathing through his nose, even when he was audible panting. 

He led the bicycle to the front, beneath the shadowed roof; you cast your eyes over the asphalt end. The wind rushes through nature up here. As such the foreground, alive, before the still concrete and bricks. 

Juyeon called your name to where he waited beside the door. With a half a shoulder hidden by his own, the bell goes off. A lady opens and smiles instantly as she sees Juyeon. Her wrist in rose patterns reaches out for his shoulder, comforts it gently. Since you’re a stranger; you’re left to awkwardly observe and retell like a narrator. 

“Oh, you have a girl with you?” She smiles at Juyeon, which he returns. He introduces you to the lady while she weakly widens the door gap. 

She still talks when three cats come to the hallway rug. Curiously they silently circle your legs, but they too can tell you’re no threat. 

An orange cat, clothed in layers of orange fur, brushes its head against your calf. You immediately bend down to pet it. To figure out if this fox-like complexion existed in your past too; you tilt your head. But your cat’s were more like crows than foxes. 

Apparently something must have shown because Juyeon says from beside. 

“This is Belle, they had their own kittens here. Ours are probably resting on the couch.” 

You look up, “Oh.” 

The old lady goes to the kitchen to take out tea and biscuits. Meanwhile Juyeon guides you to the living room where three other cats lie in the cushions of a worn down brown couch. Their socks tenderly span across the clear floor, and it must have woken them up. You smile briefly when they instantly seem to recognize him; reach their heads up for touch once he sits. All weights deeper down the material once you sit beside him. Touching shoulders to see a cat lick his finger in his lap. 

Like a jet black scarf in his jeans pattern; it contrasts from the faint white mark–like a moon at night–on her head. 

“She’s so big now.” You say when visions from those evenings before the TV playing Sailor Moon. You called out her name–Luna–that day when you saw her cramped between her siblings. 

Juyeon also named a kitten after a TV show he watched..

“Is that Mum Mew?” 

Now in direction towards the floor; a larger cat, half underneath the couch, half on your feet. 

Juyeon laughs, “He’s Oscar now.” He leans closer and whispers, “I don’t think I’ve ever told her that was his original name.” 

They sit there until the lady comes out again. 

“It’s so lovely that you got a girlfriend, Juyeon.” She puts down the plate and the two look at her, “I’ve all actually thought about you a lot. I’ve been thinking about calling your mother to set you up with someone, I started to get a bit worried.”

The lady has an attentive x on her face. The skin on her forehead hides nothing as it folds, deeply contemplated. Only with your head down and suppressed smile, can you clearly notice the plates against wooden surfaces. Juyeon scratches his nape frantically while laughing. 

"Yeah, uhh–” He stammer. 

“You know, by your age, I was with many guys.” She sits down on the opposite chair. 

“We got together, then we broke up. I had a guy in Paris who I really liked.” She leans forward, “Back then I was so in love I wanted to stay. I thought he was perfect! Kind, handsome, sex–”

“What’s the type of cookie?” Juyeon suddenly bursts out. Leaned over the table pointing at the brown one that’s obviously chocolate. But the lady doesn’t seem to bother. 

“Oh, you see!” 

You press your lips, the color might have vanished. Though it was painfully awkward; Juyeon was just adorable enough to turn the situation endearing. She still describes in detail over her mother’s mother recipe; and Juyeon from the side nods his head attentively, like he always does. 

After another conversation, the topic returns. 

“So when did you meet?” 

Turns to exchange question marks between you. His eyes don't say much and you guess yours neither. 

Juyeon scratches his nape, “We’ve been friends for sometime.” 

Lady nods, “Since when?” 

“Like…” He looks at you for confirmation, “...fourteen or fifteen?” 

“Did you confess, Juyeon? Or Y/n?” She smiles and looks at you, “Juyeon is a bit shy, I’ll be surprised if he confessed.” 

He retreats back to the couch; sinks down the heavy material. You laugh lightly at how his shoulders, swallows by waves of brown textile. 

“Y/n actually liked me first back then.” He points out gently.

You freeze. 

“Then I confessed in university.” 

The old woman does a sweet smile; hands patterned of life lie like a cover over her heart as she looks at both. 

For the longer you’re in someone’s presence; one starts to adjust to the traits. But even how many conversations went on and the sun above crossed her roof; your shoulders hardened. Like irreversible death does to your physical state, you seem unable to look to Juyeon’s side. By all stars in the universe; you’re suddenly transparent. Obvious, translucent piercing glass. 

You looked out the window at the old woman’s house; terrifyingly, the sky was pink. All the world disappeared at fatal speed when they bicycled back to campus. There must be a sort of brilliant snow, in a color out of our spectrum, that rains down on Earth in summer evening. It leaves the landscape quiet and calm. Cicadas sing when everyone else ceases to. 

None of you felt like going to the dorms just yet, instead; you now sit in the auditorium. Though either laugh echoes throughout the wide open space, there’s a dissolving acid in your lungs, begging to drink all air. 

All those characteristics of a person reveal to the open world after all these years. Because you can’t remember Juyeon being so persistent in apologizing. They came in on the “girlfriend” incident; he smiled embarrassingly, felt guilty for forcing you in on it. You told him it was okay. 

After echoing silence; it soars through the auditorium. Juyeon reaches down his backpack with all its scattered papers. There’s a velvety pulse keeping the space next to you occupied while he’s elsewhere. Once Juyeon comes out of the canvas material; your eyes widen in terror, contrasting the melodic decoration of red velvet and wood. 

Your conscious runs desperately from this room, but physical state is in the same seat. 

Juyeon holds out a blue letter with your handwriting on it. 

“I should’ve said it sooner, I’m sorry.” He says in that gentle tone he always speaks to you with. Maybe a soft arch at the end of the sentence. Nonetheless, you imaginary stabs the mind resting in your bone cradle. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You look at him once before turning to the empty seat and make an expression. One of deep second hand embarrassment that comes from the very narrow part of ‘me’ and sends like shivers. 

“I understand.” Juyeon follows your movements, “You were not supposed to see that letter, they shouldn’t have been leaked.” 

Worried you might have genuinely caused borderline trauma for the poor guy; you turn to him, “I’m really sorry.” 

“No.” The corners of his lips turn into leaves of a red apple. His eyes clouds the color round the pupil and his height convulses barely as he leans into the seat. 

Parts of us never veins, and in front of you, he’s the same boy who patted kittens and was deeply sad when they parted from their mother.  

“I’m honestly very touched by it.” He admits. 

He was back in his childhood home for the last week before semester. When folding the navy sheets of his old bed; his mother came up. A letter in her hand with turquoise color and bubble arch letters in pink ink. Already, it couldn’t be something written in ‘today’. 

And Juyeon is truthful towards you. He read it on the train back home. Always oblivious but grateful nonetheless. Used the window like a passage to the time where you sat beside him on the bedroom floor. 

“Really?” You say surprised. 

He nods, “I’ve never gotten a love letter before.” 

You would scoff and tell him he’s lying, but as his appreciative eyes blur with the blue envelope; you don’t. 

“You know, I think you should join the writer’s club here on campus.” Juyeon smiles at you suddenly. 

“What?” You lean away. 

“Really.” His eyes shapes of honest o’s, “Like–of course there’s some grammar mistakes and you spelt ‘desperatly’ wrong, but you got the feeling!” 

Still the same skeptical expression answers him back. 

“I’m really serious Y/n.”

Own hands in your lap trail towards each other like opposite poles, “I’ll think about it.” 

You watch how he timidly holds the edges and opens the envelope again. Lips shaped in pout like he wonders. 

“Does it bother you if I keep it?” He asks. 

Head shake, though still confused, “No, you can keep it.” 

“Thank you.” He smiles endearingly and tucks it back between the papers and folders. 

A revelation wasn’t as horrid as you thought. Hyunjae’s was deeply embarrassing, but there’s a brief space for contemptment in your heart where anxiety wandered before. Like a visual sight of the butterfly; you look up at the auditorium and ponder over the hidden connections.

You didn’t expect anything from Juyeon; that time has passed. But his now grown up presence seems to fulfill this daily life too. 

“Did others get letters?” Juyeon breaks silence. Like always, his expression paints past the physical boundaries, and one could make out white lines of curious cat ears. 

You figure he means the “they shouldn’t have been leaked”. 

You nod and he tilts his head. Visual intrigue and anticipation from his seat, but you close off in rose pigment like tired flowers. 

“I'd rather not tell you, it’s a bit embarrassing.” You laugh and Juyeon leans back, reassuring. 

This anticipating silence doesn’t cease. It exists as a continuation, a ‘more’ before the ‘end’. One person can’t seem to leave the edge undiscovered, rather, you wait for the red thread to tie its last loop. 

“You know Eric has been looking for you? He seems to miss you a lot.” Juyeon finally says. Tone serious than anything else that left his lips. 

A stone grows between your throat, not acid. There’s no dissolving, just constant aching as you try to move. 

Juyeon continues to talk as you’re silent, “I don’t know what it is, but he’s very understanding…”

He pauses, “...and you know, cause you know him better than I do.” 

04 . CHAPTER FOUR

( tuesday, morning )

“Where’s the psychiatrist?” 

“At the library.” 

“No, I can’t talk to Juyeon anymore.” He groans. 

To drift from the flat roofs outside the window; Eric looks at Sunwoo, further the beige walls. Sunwoo’s head is deep tucked beneath the bedding; Eric crawls over from his own bed to the end of Sunwoo’s. When the weight leans towards Sunwoo’s feet, he closes the pink envelope and lets the navy sheets hide it. The cover comes off Sunwoo’s head by Eric. His face like the moon causes an eclipse over the sun and Sunwoo stares unenchanted back at it. 

“Y/n still haven't answered my messages, it’s been like three weeks!” Eric forces the pillow down. 

“I wouldn’t answer you either.” Sunwoo pats bedding over his chest while Eric throws the pillow at his side. 

They just became friends at the end of the last semester and decided to room for this year. As one’s social circles opens up in double doors whenever Eric comes; your name was one of the first he heard. Sunwoo immediately leaned intrigued at the name, but figured it was just a mere coincidence. He was bound to grow from youth and twine old names with new faces. 

Either way, destiny doesn’t exist, and he won’t take a bait from the universe. Though, Sunwoo threaded over that principle the week before uni started. He worked at the old summer camp and a letter came during the closing week. 

“To Sunwoo”, nothing else. Curiosity took the best of him and he opened the letter to see “From Y/n'' at the end of a massive paragraph. 

The universe got him this time, he admits. In how many positions has he reread the letter and dreamt of the yellow filtered summer from when he was thirteen. In truth he reminiscenced about you those summer’s after. Once reaching adulthood, he realized there was no point in yearning, it’s been years. But this late season has turned into the car ride home from that camp, still with you in vision, so close but not here.

At this point ‘Y/n’ feels like a mere fragment of his imagination; therefore he wont tell. Keep your name from any seekers and contemplate. 

After laughter; Eric plummets to the bed and looks up at the ceiling, feeling Sunwoo’s legs at his elbow. 

“I just don’t understand why she can’t talk to me.” He murmurs. 

“Did anything happen?” 

Only Juyeon knows about the letter Eric received from his best friend. A confession he has longed for since he lived in his castle (big house), but never would be granted. 

Eric thought their connection was stronger than this. Why did you send it if you weren't seeking answers? Why now, this place at this time? 

He has traced every curve of your letters; stared at facebook and mail box. Even the refrigerator at night for answers. 

Though everything the roommates did this summer; Eric can’t tell him, not yet. It’s the luminous memories coming to his ruins. Sunwoo is his presence. 

Silent melancholia climbs above the horizon together with the bleeding sun at the football field. Lines of the goals, rigid and angular, separate the pink-orange growing fragments. Breeze from east colds your heated heart while waiting on the bleachers for Hyunjae. 

You were forced to wake up; not following the united routine of the dormitory when he needed help for a training pass at dawn. But he’s not in sight. 

Half asleep leaning on the backpack, center of your lap; waiting for something holy to run past. 

World’s colors fade into abstraction behind the pupil and a small figure crosses the field. You don’t notice how it leaves the red tracks, closer to the bleachers. Same breeze that touched you passes through its shirt and by mere coincidence. He turns his head opposite from the sunrise and sees you lone illuminated. 

Sunwoo recognises the person despite different clothing. There’s an unconscious underlying characteristic in posture. Sunwoo has been entranced by his own world, but he did think a lot of the pretty girl who fell drunk out of the entrance at Jeno’s party. 

Slowly his feet take him further from the white lines. 

“You’re okay?” His voice tears the plaster away from your vision. 

To look up from the bleacher, a ruler higher than the green grass, they make eye contact. It takes a pattern of blinking but at last you speak. 

“What?” 

“I saw you at the party last Friday, I just wonder if you’re okay?” He repeats. 

A sort of second hand deja vu like nausea, spreads from the visual, coming back. Forces the parallel expression to the feeling, down and instead scratches your head. 

“Oh.” Eyes widen, “Yeah, I’m okay now, thanks.” 

Solitude pushes down into the field with the next breeze. The two of them linger in the same place though the conversation seemed to have ended long ago. You who tie eyes on the far tower of the male dormitory, look back towards him. He stands with barely knit eyebrows, two meters away. It’s not an uncomfortable stare whatsoever, rather curious as the sun rising above the world. 

You smile, “You’re trying to place me…” 

Trying destiny runs through him but nonetheless he’s taken by the sudden realization. You see how the expression unravels and a single shooting star passes the brown coloration of his left eye. 

“You’re Y/n; Y/n from summer camp?” 

You don't react as quickly and are now left blaring into the past and present and the same time. 

“We went kayaking together, don’t you remember?” He points at himself, “I’m Sunwoo.” 

The star falls in east and transcends pink orange shine throughout the campus. For a second; you would have fallen from first row down the grass field with knees bruised of embarrassment, but just in time, you realized that the address written on the letter wasn’t his, just the camp. 

“Sunwoo?” Your posture folds higher to come into view with his own. Truly there’s exciting nostalgia within. 

“I didn’t know you went here.” You say slowly. 

“Me neither.” Sunwoo laughs. 

While in awe over the struck of fate; eyes momentarily drift to the right. Another shadow cuts through the horizon and appears closer while jogging across the field. All light still shines in your eyes while standing up. They come in equal footing and quietly watch each other. He looks over behind and sees Hyunjae. Sunwoo doesn’t quite feel like leaving yet; wished they were stored a moment longer. 

His arms just barely lifts off his sides to embrace you, but the sharp sequence of Hyunjae and you strikes him at the spinal cord. Not wanting to disrupt your relationship again. 

You’re left with wide eyes as Sunwoo runs off the direction he appeared from. 

“Bye Y/n, see you around!” 

It all just played as if at two times speed. One hand lifts to wave from your side of the world while the last strands disappear beyond the goals. 

By peripheral vision, Hyunjae traces Sunwoo. Once more, there’s a torturous sensation growing between marrow bone and heart. When you look his way he feels your eyes held down on him only. 

“You never take water with you, Ice God.” 

While still a meter across, you throw the water bottle to him and he captures it perfectly. Hyunjae looks up with eye-framed windows like staring at the sun. 

“You’re close with Sunwoo?” 

Your bag falls to the ground, “We went to summer camp together, I didn’t know he studied here.” 

Briefly nod while his bag too comes down the grass. You lucid leaning onto the bleachers again–until Hyunjae starts sprinting in one place. The end strands of his hair in parallel motions and his child-like smile shine between the pauses. 

“Let’s run.” He says. 

“I have a volleyball match later.” Back falls to the second and third row as you complain. 

He laughs and takes your wrist, “Running helps with stress.” 

White ribbons knitted along the green corners; they jog the red track field and do a few rounds. Each passage closest to the bleachers you see the shadows diagonally downgrade across the seats. 

Despite having their lungs barely reaching air; Hyunjae persists in conversation. It presses from Earth towards your upper body as you unconsciously choose words before steps. But Hyunjae too seems incredibly out of breath for someone that trains as much as he does. 

You won’t admit it just yet–if ever–that his company is actually enjoyable. 

He lingers across the sport’s center until the shift has ended, and talks to you in insignificant states. In one way; your long shadow at the end of your feet feels guilty. An idea of a self serving dude with too much attention. In truth; he laughs a lot. 

“When’s the game?” Hyunjae asks as their feet come out of synch. 

They stand still catching breath. 

“At three.” You sigh and start walking to the bleachers. 

“Then, I’ll skip this lesson.” Hyunjae stands next to you. 

He takes out the water bottle you gifted him. Presence from your side lingers on him as he drinks, and he raises his eyebrows at the long look. 

“You don’t have to come though.” The lines above eyes cross in a slight perplexed X. 

“You were at my game last time, I should come to.” Hyunjae smiles gently. 

( tuesday, afternoon )

“Need to go to the toilet; nervousness makes me pee.” 

‘21’ in bold font disappears behind the bended wall. You direct towards people in fitted shirts as patterns before the teal walls.

It’s not usual for you to be nervous before games; nor to be completely absorbed by else’s. Now you’re unconventionally a bit more dreamy. The halo in your eyes, up at the sky and shoulder’s slack as if moon-touched. Your teammates pointed it out too when you didn’t answer after ‘Y/n!’. 

Sunwoo reentered your life this morning. The boy that had caused such a heartbreak it was unbelievable. And despite your time changes, you found yourself counting the star constellations he told you that summer. 

This sort of unending chase starts again, that the letters dated to the old camp will find its way to him. Like a foolish child's secret. 

You also wonder why Hyunjae was so persistent on going to your match. One could thread through the interactions and guess he’s become comfortable in your life too. But there’s a brief self reflection. You neither rejected him to come or encouraged. Maybe you want someone up on the bleachers shouting your name, even if it’s not Eric. 

Wooden floor reflects the studio lights like water. Eyes wanders immediately from teammates up to the bleachers. Blue plastic seats on row, to the very windows where it barely collides with the roof. There’s a few silhouettes in groups up on the high rows. Everyone waving their hands to someone, not you. 

When you see number 21 stop before the white line and bring her arm high up to one standing; you suddenly regret not messaging Eric. Though, just as fast; he maybe wouldn’t even have showed up? 

One loud whistle comes from the left; your head directs off the green line tracing vertically. Sees teammates reach their hand out for you to the ring building at the side of the rectangular room. On the opposite, mirrors like theirs in green shirts, they gather.

Thin water like bubbles trace down the narrow row from your temples. All these bubbles that have accumulated beneath the shirt, down knees and threading your throat like a transparent necklace. 

Once the last whistle soars across ceiling; you return to the corner of teammates. Someone touches your arm while running for water; a teammate smiles sincerely but exhausted. 

When shoes are in line with the white painted diagonal; your name chants above all noise. From the floor, your eyes see Hyunjae coming down the blue seats. You aren’t able to reiterate his name before arms of his own wrap around shoulders. 

The invincible spot of cologne sits beneath his shoulder blade. Evoking gently as your chin, supported by the broad shoulder. You hesitantly hug him back and try to look at his face but only reaches his ear. 

Suddenly you feel a bit insecure. 

“I’m really sweaty, Hyunjae.” You laugh awkwardly. 

“Yeah,” His hands retrites without walking back. 

Lips curve to gentle his face and the eyes like porcelain. 

“, and it fits you.” 

A strand falls before your eyes; tucked in by his hands like a dove’s wing. 

Once the match heat flush red, another round of pigment paints your cheeks. There’s no hinder above your eyes left, but still you shake your head and cough; all while Hyunjae still smiles. 

“Thank you, Jaehyun.” 

His expression, more blinding than the long lights above. It’s impossible to not curl up before. You have a certain love for looking away when adoration blooms like spring season on him. Somehow you seemed to have missed when he came to the bleachers too. 

It’s quiet, but Hyunjae still feels like hearing your voice. 

He starts, “You did grea-”

“Y/n!” 

A voice so deeply teared apart and assembled within your mind, that it exists stored in the furthest corners. There’s a certain nerve created just to react to that tone fall, you believe. 

With eyes widened and fingers loosen from each other; you pierce towards the blue door. People still run past your double vision, but for a second the world stopped. 

Eric stands with hands in the blue frame. The universe must’ve heard that wish you prayed before, and in some way, full of relief and exhaustion, you’re happy it did. Eric is visually as hesitant as you, bearing fear and soft in heart pulses. 

“Sorry, Hyunjae, it’s something important.” You jog up to the double door determined. With one last glance to the bleachers, “See you later! …Thanks for coming!” 

Confinement exists excruciating; you hoped it was just the sunbleached walls with square hole windows that trapped them. But not even the open atmosphere, heaven to the infinite universe could save them from what’s been left unsaid. 

Eric asked while passing doors “I have messaged you for two weeks, why didn’t you answer?”. You could only look at him for a second before turning to the open field. His expression begs of confusion, but truly you think he knows why. 

It’s silent. Wind from east campus brushes between the grass. You become the only thing stagnant along the heavy constructions weighing down on Earth as Eric walks up the bleachers. Blue faded denim pockets console his hands as he holds sight on his converse before white plastic. 

“You didn’t even tell me you had a game today.” He refuses to make eye contact. 

Head falls low; everythings to remind you that guilt is the heaviest matter on Earth. 

Theoretically, it’s supposed to be useless feeling alone or unloved with a person like Eric. Sometimes you catch yourself staring in mirrors to search for another pair of eyes. But it’s hard to be miserable when Eric’s been a phone call away. 

It was lonely without you, but I pushed you away. 

“I’m sorry.” You finally say. 

It’s the only thing you get out as you walk up the bleachers. Together on the second row; they watch the green grass and its maroon building boxes. A mellow sun on the edge of disappearing while the land continues flat forever. A wind of different temperature while the concrete still radiates warmth. 

“I’m sorry for ignoring you Eric.” You speak again. 

Their shoes in different font over the white row; you look at them before his side appears in the same position as you. They make eye contact in what feels timeless and it trips on your heart. 

“I was-” 

“It’s oka-” 

There’s silence as they stare at each other; anticipating the other. Though the ink period of the passage becomes laughter as their shoulders collide like the southern and north pole. It ends up being Eric who speaks. 

“You’re forgiven.” He smiles and Earth sighs of relief with you. 

The two poles of their angular edge bind them gently. North and south diasporas sit in silence, whispers of the flat city come from all directions and it smells like grass or nothing in particular. 

A closed connection where everything flows freely without hinder; you had nearly forgotten about that feeling. 

Courage drapes whatever embarrassment was left in you. To breathe in before honest confession. That you love him deeply still, though any romanticized visions are of the past. 

As you think of it; a part of the old self frees and runs with you back towards the grass field. 

“I actually like you too, Y/n.” 

It hitches in your throat. 

“You don’t have to answer yet.” His smile reeks of cotton candy, and the hand on her shoulder before he leaves radiates in puddles like theme parks. 

“I’ll wait for you, princess!” Eric shouts with his hand in his pockets before turning his back. The same nickname he’s called you since seven, never understanding why. 

The stark contour of the real world fades as he disappears towards the dormitory until he’s just a mere dot. 

It’s still warm, but summer has made one privileged. You feel like wearing a jacket as your old self now takes the empty space beside. 

05 . CHAPTER FIVE 

( thursday, afternoon )

Ji Changmin has never been great at sport, and that’s never with a big N. Last night the breaking news of a 2 day beach party got delivered by the infamous friend group, and of course, everyone would be playing the mandatory volleyball games. 

Changmin took his backpack and ran, hoping Eric would be too busy arguing with someone else to notice the empty chair. But at last, Changmin walked up the dormitory corridor with Eric hanging from his left calf like chained. Desperately begging that it wouldn’t be the same if everyone doesn’t come. 

One thing led to the other and every dorm heard a passing march of footsteps to the other end. Changmin was running after Eric whilst he screamed of absolute terror (traumatized from the year before when changmin chased him down the campus, drunk). In a last attempt of escape; Eric jumped Juyeon’s room and made a borderline olympic leep down the bedding before Juyeon processed the door had been opened. 

Like the unofficial therapist he is; Juyeon told Changmin he has a friend in the volleyball team that can teach him this afternoon so as to not embarrass himself completely. 

And that’s how you stand in the same hall; wide eyed and chills growing like rose stems it might strangle you. Though, you could’ve been more embarrassed as Changmin looks about the same. 

With an aggressive tilt to your shoulder while eyelids reach your eyebrows; a firm stare directed at Juyeon. Quietly it signals “what the fuck didn’t you tell me it was Changmin?!”. 

He doesn’t get it. 

“...and he’s really bad.” Juyeon ends while smiling. 

“I’m not that bad.” Changmin side eyes the taller one; also in search for some backup. 

“Yes, you are silly.” His eyes crease in turn with the ends of his lips. From the right side, his hands come up to ruffle the sprout of Changmin’s head. 

All three compiled the net up. You had no interest in bringing up the letter for either Changmin or Juyeon; therefore you rigid and pale served the first shot. 

But thankful for Juyeon’s excitement and obliviousness (surprising) to the reunion he just set up; the tension wore off Changmin’s shoulder and your pigments returned. 

All would rotate between the two sides of the net. You would purse lips to a thin line and turn the plastic of your shoes on the hard floor before running up to Changmin to show him how to serve. At first you stood a little less than a meter behind him; shoved gestures in the air to somehow manipulate his own body to do the same movements. But at last you went up to him, held his hand like gentle rain. 

There was not a bruise or patterns of shades on his palms. Either he’s absolutely addicted to hand cream or those text books of his must enchant his skin while turning pages. 

Changmin felt fragile like all ancient history when you showed him. He tried to be quiet, shyly only talking to Juyeon, but couldn’t help but let out shrieks every time he missed or won. It was just like board games at the dinner table when their parents whispered in the other room. 

You suddenly shout, “Move!” 

Juyeon’s on the opposite side of the two and forced the ball up to the roof with neck breaking power. 

You see how Changmin doesn’t; instead glued to the floor with knees rigid and his hands come up in chest length as if it will save him. You desperately swing your shoulder to the right, but all actions are in vain when their foreheads collide. Force acts up on them and leads them to the ground. Swear it was visible stars circling both heads. 

As the collision wears off and presence hits you as a second impact; terrified you watch Changmin between own two arms down the floor. Legs have his stomach tied to the flooring; 

where in all directions you are. And when they both blushes of embarrassment; Changmin’s hands come a little higher up his chest. 

“You’re supposed to chase the ball.” You stutter and hastily push up from him but miserably fails as the clothing material slips on the floor. 

“I’m sorry-” 

Changmin, just as terrified, apologizes while pushing himself off the floor. One way and two directions; they shut their eyes painfully as the point between their eyebrows hit each other again. One step further down his stomach.

“You didn’t even tell me we had started.” Changmin complains and holds his forehead, looking at Juyeon who climbs under the net. 

You slide off him; knees supporting any weight while at the end of his calves. Great silence from the tunnel system in the high ceiling expands over the yellow walls. It scratches in their throats that you cough. It was enough to crack the tension layered like a glass dome. 

“I don’t feel the same, Y/n.” Changmin sits up. 

“Yeah, I know.” You sigh because you know what he means without asking. Fingers left racing the floor.

“Old story; you were not supposed to get it, I’m sorry.” Guiltily purse lips in, “Also, sorry for falling on you.” 

Suddenly gentle, his legs come over in crisscross and he leans closer to your figure. 

“Yeah…it’s fine.” He confirms in same tone, “Though, I appreciate it. The letter.” 

He pauses. 

“...I had no idea.” Changmin admits.

You laugh, “Really? I was super obvious.” 

“You think so?” He skeptically smiles. 

To bring your arms to an imaginable table and articulate, “I literally held my arms over the textbooks to lean over to you..” 

“I just thought you were a bad listener.” Changmin smiles, bothered, like he always does.  

They both laugh. 

Another shine made by the sun outside draws with a ruler down the yellow wall. It has an angular cut in where it has a darker wooden frame just above the floor. Like the highlight is a window to the midsummers of one’s childhood; you dare to hold eyes open and watch. 

They used to sit at the dining table where the pattern cloth folds at your knees. Because you were way too shy to invite him behind your room door. Sometimes, laughs loud enough for them to hear came from the living room where both their mom’s sat. Mostly they whispered; never understood why. 

When they were younger, he was mostly intimidating. So much taller and just his glasses felt like a sign of great intelligence. But truly his personality held some sort of shine you believed was a leftover from some ancient spell along the yellow fields. 

With their families having dinner sometimes; the two of them used to play board or card games late into the afternoon when the adults still sat along the dinner table. You didn’t want to invite your brother when you finally had time to talk to Changmin without it being about math, but he was way too nice to leave him out. 

“Is your cat good?” Changmin asks suddenly, “Or is he dead?” He knits his eyebrows. 

“Yeah, he’s dead.” Smiles and thinks of how Scuba Steve, in his orange white complexion used to jump into Changmin’s lap while he was tutoring. And when he talked to him so sweetly and petted him along the long fur; her teenage self used to dream about their future (delusion). 

“It feels like he liked everyone more than me.” You admit while leaning into your palm. 

“I’m sure he liked you too.” He laughs. 

“Are you going to the beach party?” Changmin suddenly asks, “You’re close with Eric, right?” He knits his eyebrows, “Aren’t you together with Jaehyun too?” 

“No, no, no, I’m not with Jaehyun.” You fall back to the floor and hands melt down your face. 

“Don’t tell him I said that though.” You add, “But no, I’m not going.” 

“Why not?” 

Visions from the past weeks pass like a bad trailer and you close your eyes. Sunwoo and Eric run across the field in a sort of evangelical light and Hyunjae in the far corner.

You sort of lie, “It’s complicated. I don’t want to meet Eric.” 

Changmin stands up, “I’m only going if you do.” 

“Don’t do this.” You complain. 

“No, whatever’s going on, we’re fixing it now.” He takes your shoulder and forces you up. You whine again and try to make the weight fall back to Earth. 

“I’m fighting volleyball and you’re fighting Eric, great!” He cheers.

There was a lot more than Eric you had to fight this weekend. 

The ball goes flying in their direction again. It lands on Changmin’s head and forces his glasses to the floor. They both look to the right and see Juyeon stand awkwardly upright, hands hanging like leaves as he longs for the ball. 

“I missed.” He deadpan. 

You take the ball and look at Changmin. He smiles knowingly before you both rush at Juyeon. 

( friday, morning )

“Do you want some?” 

Your head turns to the right where the sun shines through the glass brighter. It ceases through the back of his loose strands like the tree crowns from summer camp. 

When you came down to the bus station, Changmin waved at you from a stack of backpacks piled like a mountain. Juyeon stood slightly behind and followed the shoerter’s movements. You asked them if they plan on moving with that; Changmin answered it was Juyeon’s and Eric’s bags. He had–while straightening his posture–just taken the necessary. 

When all had arrived, you got a third row seat at the back beside Sunwoo. You had met again on campus. It turned out between all those words that both were going to the party this weekend. You mentioned how you’re mainly here as Changmin’s emotional support.

Sunwoo– a little horrified– told you he’ll have eyes in the back of his neck for this trip. Hyunjae, Eric or anyone else for that matter could come up from behind and throw hsi poor body in the water. With both in desperate situations, they jokingly built a pact to have each other’s back on this trip. 

So when you sit beside Sunwoo, and look down the space created against the armrest where he reaches out a pink package. He shakes it and you smile before taking a hand off the backpack. 

“You stole my pocky?” 

Tearing away from that space; they look behind the red seat to see Eric leaned over the two. He pierces down at Sunwoo with a dumbfounded O of his lips and starts pointing at the roots of Sunwoo’s hair which he ducks away from. 

“I didn’t steal it.” He defends. 

“It’s mine, I bought it this morning.” Eric looks at you, begging for sympathy, “Now I have no snacks.” 

“You said you weren’t going to eat them.” Sunwoo hides them. 

“They’re mine!” Eric hangs down the seat. Immediately you take the edge of his sleeve as if he’ll fall on you. 

“You’re gonna eat them now?” Sunwoo taunts, “Take the jelly grapes.” He throws out a plastic package from his bag while still chewing. 

“Let’s split it.” Eric deadpans while holding out his palm. 

“I’ll buy you one later.” Sunwoo repeat. 

Eric laughs from above, “You literally just asked Y/n!” He points. 

Sunwoo gets quiet for a second; looks up et Eric, before back at Y/n. 

“Can’t you just eat the grapes?” He shakes the package up in Eric’s face. 

Feet fall back to the floor, the row behind them and Eric, still dumbfounded, points at Sunwoo while stunned searches for assent in you. 

“He’s shameless.” Eric sits down. 

Where the dense complexes only ends when shore starts, the bus ride isn’t long. Despite constant traffic, conversations over the unconscious roaring of the bus engine; you resisted the falling weight of eyelids but at last, gave in. The last minutes when blue hues start to form between the windows and houses lined up against the sand. Head falls onto Sunwoo’s shoulder. 

Changes surprises him, but just as immediately he gently falls back into his seat and your head comes between his neck like the last piece of a 100 puzzle. How could he describe the violent but gentle flutter that grows from a part in his chest and blooms into all directions. And when each stem leaves its youth and creates rosen petals at his fingertips; the playlist in his headphones changes song. 

A melody of 80s slow paced rhythm and a voice soft like silk; lies over the muted woven chorals and yellow of the beach houses. Tiny flowers in perfect composition, like a trail across each street and when he sees the roof of the largest beach houses, just below the shore; Sunwoo wishes the bus would take one more round. 

He dares to look down.  He has seen this image before. All those movie nights in the dining room at summer camp evening. When he rushed to take the seat beside you before anyone else. And towards the end of the long hour you couldn’t keep your eyes open and leaned just like now, on his shoulder. It’s been so long but it doesn’t feel like a season has passed since that summer when he sees your hand lightly touching his own. 

“You need sunscreen, Jaehyun!” You wave the blue plastic tube while slipping down the sand. Hyunjae looks over his shoulder, smirking questionably to her while you come closer. 

“You’ll get skin cancer.” You squint when the blue sky shines behind him. 

“You do it then.” He smiles. 

Holding hands above your eyes, hoping it’ll cease all rosen blushes, “I’m not your mom.” 

“Please, Y/n.” He shakes your forearms, pouting. At first your own hands come up to his chest to force him off, but retrites like touching a hot stove as he’s shirtless. 

“Okay, okay.”

Overarching sand, up to the wooden porch, frees from the rest when they walk up. Hyunjae quickly takes the lead when he jumps up on fixed ground and takes a seat on the edge of the porch. How he wiggle his legs like an excited child while smiling so brightly; you didn’t know he could. You fall to knees behind him and awkwardly look over his hair. 

“Can’t you just do it yourself?” Sun highlights his skin from above. The sharp points of his shoulders, down to his arms, seem soothing against the sharp sand. That specific smell of sunscreen, so deeply ingrained into summer, trace along the porch. Your palm hesitantly moves back and forth between the flexed spot of his shoulder. 

“Just do it, Angel.” Hyunjae looks back at you encouragingly, but you quickly lie the cold sunscreen on his skin to divert him. In the clear summer sun spotlight, your cheeks luminates of struck pink. 

“Ah, it’s cold.” Hyunjae’s shoulder rises up and you continue soothing it in one hand. 

“Don’t complain.” You try to sound normal. 

They got along more than you originally thought. Hesitant to calling people friends, but you guess that's what they are. Though, friends shouldn’t blush of nervousness from innocent touch, right? Especially when Hyunjae leans back further into your hand, and you wonder if it’s wrong. 

At the same time; Eric peeks from the doors to the beach house. He tries to convince himself he’s longingly looking at the open shore, but it’s merely a background to Hyunjae and you.

It’s not that you’re lying, he thinks. You looked more than authentic that day, he asked if they were together and you denied. It’s not a competition, but still he feels a burn coming from another direction than the sun when your hands go to his neck and Hyunjae laughs from tickling. 

“Y/n!” 

You turn from Hyunjae and see Eric coming closer. All that in one motion, you forgot about the painfully obvious red of your face. It isn’t until Eric’s eyes widens and he falls in height to take your left cheek. 

“You’ve burned yourself, Y/n.” Eric traces with his thumb the rose colors of your essence and  to feel it coming off your skin, embarrassingly paint your soul. At this point,  nervousness would leak out from your skin, but by Eric’s and Hyunjae’s wide eyes and open mouths; they’re completely oblivious to their work. 

“N-” Stuttering out the beginning of a no; you stop suddenly as there’s no good excuse for the color. 

“Let me help you.” Hyunjae reaches for the tube down the wood and you immediately try back from Eric’s gentle palms. 

“No, no, no, it’s just heat.” 

“Water.” Eric wants to get you on foot, take you to the kitchen. 

“You need a cold bath.” Hyunjae says quickly after and without looking at Eric takes you in bridal style. Hand lets go of Eric’s and he’s left standing as you in panic tries to convince Hyunjae to turn away from shore. Hyunjae laughs while shouting that you’ll overheat.

It’s a dark seemingly normal, but guilty jealousy Eric watches the older one throw his best friend down the water. You’re quick on your feet again, and start chasing Hyunjae further down. Laughs come from that side while Eric tears his eyes off the new waves; clench his fist because frustration might visibly leak out his skin, and turn back to the house to take his mind off. 

It was only a limited amount of sups, you shared one with Changmin. They had agreed to alt the paddle in interval, but it was you who ended up dragging them both along the surface while Chnagmin sat behind, criticizing the solo sups. 

His victim was mainly Juyeon who traversed the first ocean layer for a good minute playing God until he lost balance. The entire group laughed while he tried to climb up. At the same time Sunwoo laughed so hard he was second to fall in. 

Changmin did well, all things considered, when it was beach volleyball. Juyeon and you cheered on him. That brought him enough confidence to stand at the front. Which wasn’t his greatest moment as he fell head first into the net. 

Sun’s, fleetly asleep above the horizon. All those hours of shine still left like a memory in the sand while four of them still play, the rest swimming, taken a seat with the group who grills or in the house. Laughter with the waves collide, creating a divide of foam. Breeze ensues their hearts. 

It smells of garlic smoked marinade from behind once the ball comes over again. Though at first refusing to go, you’re still thankful for Changmin who desperately forced a game over either way. 

Soon there’s food and you sit on the porch once again. Sunset like a filter over the shore and its houses, maybe the heart too. 

“I have some for you.” 

You look up at who you thought was Eric, with a brightly printed paper plate, gathered of the same choices since childhood. But you blink once, realize it’s Sunwoo. He takes the space beside where only vague music accompanied earlier. 

“Oh, thank you, Sunwoo.” You smile and take the second plate. 

“No worries.” He bends down to eat a bite of his own food. 

A scenery in fleeting composition, scattered of dust passes through the peripheral. 

“I remember you used to take food to me back then too.” Unconscious of the tender light you hold while tracing the oil leaking across plastic shine. 

“Yeah,” He looks at his chicken, “Cause you were always busy sorting stones.” 

You scoff, “Why? You’re judging my hobbies?” 

“No,” He answer truthfully, “It was cute.” 

“My stones?” You tilt. 

“You.” 

Sunwoo’s voice is monotone like it wasn’t supposed to blemish your heart like the orange and dark blue sky divide. The bones across your shoulders and hover over chest convulse in like wings of the delighting butterflies. 

Sunwoo looks up from the food, “I don’t really remember how your stones looked.” 

You smile and take a bite, “I guess that’s why I married you back then.” 

Still confined between your own frame to prevent any sheer wings of escape; you miss how his ears perked up together with his horrible posture. Him in his sharp complexion becomes adorably curious. 

“You remember that?” He says surprised. 

“Of course.” She says as if it’s obvious. Sunwoo looks down at the sand as if to see the smitten reflection of his face in them. 

“I actually didn’t think you’d remember.” He says quietly. 

Another song on the playlist comes on and a group of people rush beside them. Jumping off the porch; their silhouettes darken in pink contrast as water evaporates on their burnt arms. 

Sunwoo dares to look to your side; still eating and it further reminds him of times in circles when they sat next to each other. Something absurd with seeing you again like this. For some nameless reason you have lived all these years as a little girl in his memories, constantly visiting when summer’s approaching. Now you're here, finally at the same age. 

He knows he shouldn’t advance, shouldn’t take a step closer on the porch. Since behind him just some meters further, Hyunjae sits. How adoringly he thinks of Hyunjae because he has you unconditionally by one side. 

“I remember you told me about the stars.” You suddenly say. 

Sunwoo looks at you then the skies, vaguely guilty that there's nothing's left to see yet.

He smiles,  “Damn, I can’t see them, otherwise I would’ve told you about them again.”

You hold head tilted at his side while his eyes still squint for a light away to hit them, “You can show me later.” 

 You don't know what has crawled into you lately, but it’s dependent and has zero abstinence. 

As if the hangover from last week wasn’t enough to convince you; you’re drunk once again (this time in the kitchen). Juyeon worriedly came over, asking if you’re always this bad with alcohol. In turn you took his shoulders dramatically and said no, shaking him. 

And you weren't the only one. In the same vein, at another window by the house; Eric found Sunwoo staring dead into the reflection. When asked what he was doing, Sunwoo simply replied he’s staring at bird shit and laughing like it was the funniest thing. 

Most people are still outside. Fairy lights might look like fireflies in this state as it cradles lightly from night weather. As people cross the sand it changes patterns. It lays a plastic cup further away which Eric runs to pick up. You don't know what song is playing when the high frame expands as walls in all directions, but you think it’s good. 

“Can you dance?” You look at Sunwoo. He turns confusingly with bad posture from the bird shit. An awkward beat drop passage muffled by the walls takes the silence. 

Suddenly you jump up to him in another rhythm than the beat. Smiles wholeheartedly while waving arms.

“I can’t.” You answer your own questions and do a spin. 

Sunwoo’s hangs down its sides like towels over the branches. You reflect in highlights by his porcelain eyes. He must look extremely out of it as the pupils can’t concentrate on the shifting lights and his amused smile. But you couldn’t tell. 

You force his tired arms up in an awkward rocking-back-and-forth swing. He laughs that his teeth show when you start complaining how he’s stiffer than the expensive couch behind them. 

“Let’s tango.” You take his arms and they start circling around the room with either hand on their shoulders and next in each other’s clasp, straight forward. Sunwoo’s laugh overpowers the music as they nearly collide with the couch. Through the window frame they must look like a middle school couple. 

And as if galactic alignment was truly divine; the next song on the playlist slows to a vintage soundtrack as if from an old romcom. They’re still laughing when the circles haste and all weight stills on the carpet lining. 

They’re so drunk, Sunwoo can’t hold himself when your face comes so close. 

“You know…” He starts. 

“No.” You deadpan.

“Don’t speak.” Sunwoo complains and you fall one step backwards from laughing. 

“You know, we’ve reached our 11th marriage anniversary.” He smiles drunkenly, “I think I deserve a kiss for surviving our long distance.” 

“You haven’t even shown me the stars yet.” You whine and curl his hand in a weird way. 

“I know, I know.” He screws his eyes, it looks like it hurts.

“Just give me a kiss and we’ll go outside.” He purses his lips out. 

“Can you even name the constellations still?” You knit your eyes. 

“Of course, there’s Little bear.” Sunwoo points at your nose. You contract your head and watch his finger tip with big eyes. 

“I’m actually a Capricorn.” 

Sunwoo’s lips curve harder as his head falls between the space created from their chests. You watch the root pattern of his hair before he comes up again. 

“You’re really cute.” He smiles. 

You can’t help clasp his hands and twine fingers even harder, “Really?” 

He nods that his fringe follows. 

“Am I cute too?” Sunwoo asks, leaning in.

You think, rolling your eyes slowly, “No.” 

He pouts with big eyes. 

“Again,” He flicks your nose lightly. 

“Me or the flowers?” Sunwoo points at a vase beside the couch. You turn over your shoulder to see the arrangement of pink blemishes with white roots. 

You pretend to think, “Hmm.” 

There’s a anticipation like a butterfly on the last leaf, flickering its sheer patterned wings before taking off. Just like that, it pulses of thousand wings in both your hearts. All as Sunwoo lean in closer. Fingers laced through the other like silk and he pulls you closer by them. When the heat accumulated in the chests collide, with your lips merely touching his own. The tension weighs heavy, it might impend on the room. 

The door from the kitchen beside them forces open. 

Both Sunwoo and you loosen the lace and throw yourself onto the couch. A painful thud erupts from the back rest when Sunwoo crashes nape first. Your condition is in dangerous state, therefore you land about 10 centimeters too short and glide off the couch to the floor. 

When the outer door closes and Eric passes by the frame, he sees Sunwoo decked out; arms hanging lifelessly and his mouth opened, supported by the backrest. 

The cup in his hand nearly topples over when he rushes to stand it on any flat surface. It pulses through the floor when Eric comes down to you. A cold hand from all the ice soothes your forehead and you look up to see Eric’s fringe like a sheer curtain before his eyes. 

“You’re okay?” He asks worriedly, “How much have you drunk?” 

Eric takes your arm and scolds you gently. As you stand up you incoherently try to defend yourself, but quit abruptly as Sunwoo comes into the story. 

Eric guided you up to the bedroom’s at second floor, leaving Sunwoo to die. 

“Eric?” You lie down. 

“Mm?” He flatten out the sheet above you. 

“I forgot.” 

Eric snorts, “Really?” 

“Mm.” You insist. 

Two essence divided between the mattress line in the mit; still staring at the same ceiling. Eric never leaves your side; instead insists on talking about nothing and everything while time wraps in a 4th dimension of one's mind until you can’t rhetorically answer “Mm?”. 

Eric finally ceases to babble when shifting his head to your side. The pillows bud like a flower on his cheek when his body completely draws to your field. He knows you will probably feel like shit tomorrow morning, but for now you lie neatly above the creases like white flower of a heaven’s cross field. 

The incredible magnetic field of your essence seems to draw in more admirers than just himself, Eric understands. He barely convinces himself that the letter is an eventual sign of their destined love, but just barely. 

I can’t know who you dream about as you sleep soundly right now, he thinks while admiring. A face or two flashes before him and Eric sits up. Quietly look at the framed picture on the wall before back down at you. 

For now, he’s in denial. 

Eric takes one hand off your side to lay on your stomach. His bare fingertips dare to soothe out nothing’s on the cheek just to feel your warmth. He hesitates for a second, but before fully walking off the bed and closing the door; he bends down to kiss your cheek, just gently. 

06 . CHAPTER SIX 

( monday, midday )

The day has finally come–or not come as in an anticipated date set in stone from the past–rather Hyunjae woke up and felt courage. The last weeks they’ve seen each other nearly every afternoon, and for each time he imagines himself having persuaded you a little closer. And the last beach party seems to have been the silver lining for his confidence to finally confess how he feels. 

This afternoon they will meet on the track field for some regular training, but what you don't know is that he will be asking you to be his girlfriend, seriously this time. 

Though, between the lecture times, staring at strangers from the row tables; he consciously realized he doesn’t quite know what you like. Or of course, he knows you like astrology, biology, cat’s, exercising but just enough that you can walk guilt free home to the bed. That you always walk around with a first aid kit, and like a mother bandage burnt skin or wrecked ankles. 

But none of that is of use when your heart is supposed to flutter at his mere sight this afternoon. 

So at a table in the cafeteria; Hyunjae takes the opposite chair of a round table where Eric sits alone. Enticed in his own world; he jumps when the chair creaks of his weight. 

Hyunjae figured it was just to ask Eric, your best friend for advice. The older may stand a ruler inferior in emotion to Eric than Juyeon, but nonetheless they have spent many house parties together, jumping off the high roof or throwing pillows at the third. 

Eric always looks at him with a smile, nearly identical to his own. But right now, the red blisters' contours wave lower than what it usually does. His eyes adverts between the sad glass divide over the sandwiches and Hyunjae. But the older forces it in an identical manner to the left. 

Eric nonchalantly told him he doesn’t know what you would romantically like from him. Hyunjae complained saying he should know since they’re best friends, but Eric reiterates his line, “Yeah, just friends.” 

Hyunjae doesn’t cease from the chair, neither his voice. Eric looks at the sandwiches again and guilty bruises his fingers underneath the table. In Eric’s eyes; Hyunjae could win over anyone by just slowly articulate every crook of their name. 

It’s not to admit that he’s threatened, Eric thinks. To rationalize the frustration he theorize Hyunjae hasn’t taken enough of a time to get to know you. 

Eric’s never been evil. His moral compass holds him on the sane lane; even when emotions begs to pull the other way. But right now, while in silence, the magnetic field of the Earth pulls on the arrows. 

“Okay.” Eric puts down the drink. Hyunjae leans in attentively. 

“She wants a big, HUUGE confession. You know, those in rom coms where the guy comes out with a huge boombox and gives her flowers and has a big sign.” Eric takes his arms up in the, above his chest in height with his hair. To visually stun him he waves his hands down like confetti and shakes a hypothetical boombox. All while Hyunjae’s expression all visually gets more nervous.

“Okay.” He walks up without looking at Eric. Head deep down the floor as if thinking. 

( monday, afternoon )

The white streaks wrapped as a present lining across the field is the same as every time he walks past. But even when the scenery is familiar to his conscious, the heart anxiously breathes in quick patterns. It causes invincible scratches at the inner side of his hands while his eyes can’t hold a scene for longer than a second. There’s a couple walking past the fields down the west campus; Hyunjae’s head follows them until their backs are a mere blemish along the sidewalk. 

With his hand tightly knitted behind his back he looks at the grass growing up from under his shoes. Suddenly he looks up again. 

Like the world just ended; the sun’s growing, tearing all the accessible and it rounds the golden halo. You’re just left in trance watching how it all beautifully collapses. That’s what your presence does to his troubled heart when your upper body comes up the staircase. 

You wave with your free hand as you see him at the center of the rectangular land. Hyunjae doesn’t mirror it, instead refuses to change any position. You tilt your head in wonder for a moment, but nonetheless carry on towards his figure, until there’s just a meter across. 

“Hi, Jaehyun.” You say gently. 

“Hi, Y/n.” He shifts his head so that a part of hsi fringe falls forward. 

You turn to see his side profile, as if he’s sick. With concerned woven shape of your face, you ask, “Are you okay?” 

An awkward tenderness in his fronting psyche. To touch his shoulder might cause it to splinter in its frozen preserved state. Hyunjae clasps his hands that’s still behind; gaze your face as if though you were the first he’s ever seen. 

Silence insists to frustratingly exist after your question. 

When a scene of the entire world, flipped in your eye; he breathes in and falls with one to the grass. His hand trails as if cold to the pocket and takes out his phone, turning the speaker outlet in your higher direction. 

“Will you make me the happiest man in the world, Y/n?” 

A bouquet in pastel silk tightly concealed in a ribbon of a darker shade. 

“Hold on.” Hyunjae drops the mobile to the ground; the music practically disappears as it swallows by the grass. 

All eyes on the thin space of his front pocket as he struggles to let loose the bits of red paper. At last some gather in his palm and he throws it up in the air as enthusiastically one can without a canon. The flowers now fully extended as the last bits of craft paper adorn his head. 

A sore spot on his left knee aches under this weight. The teeth of his smile, slowly together as he bear witness to your expression, blinking cause your lips are opened but stunned. Though he can’t read good or horrible. As he starts tilting from instability he clenches the flowers tightly. 

“I didn’t find a boombox, and the party store was closed.” Hyunjae looks behind you instead of up. Embarrassingly wonder if you would have wanted a grand confession in the college cafeteria. He won’t say it, but in all honesty he didn’t have the guts for that. 

It feels like you’ve seen this scene before; in some movie lost to time, you’re sure it has crossed you once. The sad petals taken by the wind, fallen on his shoulders or thread beneath your feet. But still might be the most soft of all thousand interactions of your life. 

Hyunjae seems embarrassed, you can’t fully tell; he looks at you from passages but sways towards the right at the end. How the past and present crashes at once to see him fully and clearly without cover. He’s such a vision that this should flutter all the lonely parts in the arch marrow body, but nothing goes off. 

It’s like standing on the fourth of may, but no fireworks light up. 

You finally smile gently, still eyes on Hyunjae. His expression waits for even a whisper, but instead a hand crosses between the fragile space. Yours takes his wrists, behind where the fingers cross the stems. Gently tugging him up from the grass as the last bits of paper rock down his shoulders. 

“It’s really lovely, Jaehyun.” You smile and he’s finally up. 

The space opens again. 

“But I can’t.” You look at him as both lips synchronize withers. 

“I’m sorry.” 

A heavy wind brushes past; lies a weight on your hearts. Hyunjae, who has never once been the one pushed away, hears lone footsteps echo in the boned structure. It’s a bit embarrassing, it’s a bit sad; he feels like he maybe shouldn’t have said anything. 

You see in full vision how his mind travels elsewhere. Still with flowers and the barely audible mobile that now has changed track to a mellow love song of 80s nostalgia. How depressing everything suddenly became. 

“I still like you, Jaehyun,” You break the silence, “You were honestly a lot nicer than I originally thought.” 

He looks up. 

You smile weakly, “When I saw you on campus I thought you flirted with every woman and acted all big.” You gesture with your shoulders and Hyunjae laughs slightly. 

“But you’re actually very kind.” 

He reaches out the flowers once again. You look up at him with eyes, x-ed expression. 

“It’s still your flowers, I want you to have them.” He says gently. 

You hesitate but he shakes them in front of you. Once loosen on the tensioned shoulders; you take one hand out for the stems and look at them closely. Deeply pink with faded inner circles. 

( wednesday, afternoon ) 

That table at the cafeteria where they always meet has been occupied two days in a row. You come by between classes and yearn through the window, but at last; there’s always a shirt in a color Eric wouldn’t wear sitting in his place. 

At the changing distance through the evening, at the lone table beside your bed; all those papers in painful yellow highlight, tire sore eyes and vision yearns for the computer at the other side. Watch the letter box they communicate through everyday, but is now quiet. 

You’ve messaged Sunwoo through facebook; asked him why Eric ceased from Earth. He answered through digital letters that he’s busy, but truthfully Sunwoo knows better than anyone Eric scatters to avoid you. Eric won’t fully admit why; the closest to a confession Sunwoo got was a bleak understanding of inner guilt over something. 

“You’re sad.” 

You turn to the left where Juyeon sits with curious eyes before the library shelves. Side by side at the communal computers; he has watched you stare at the search page for four minutes without intervention. 

“Do you want to go and see the cats?” He asks gently. 

You sink down on the table. Hands curl up at the keyboard while the wooden surface catches your chin. 

“No, but thank you, Juyeon.” You say tired. 

“Is it Eric?” He asks, leaning down. 

You nod. 

“I don’t want to hurt him, I’m afraid we won’t be friends anymore.” You pause, “I don’t want to hurt anyone else.” 

“You should tell him that.” Changmin peaks from behind the computer, opposite you and Juyeon. 

“Honesty is always valued.” 

“You know, whatever it is..” Juyeon speaks from the right side, “at least having it said will lift the weight off. You have an assignment next week, right?” Juyeon points at the screen. 

“Eric would make fun of you for worrying about boys instead of studying.” 

You smile weakly. 

07 . FINAL CHAPTER 

( saturday, evening ) 

Edges of sharp stone scratches against your old bicycle. Those few streetlights with meters in between emits across the gravel. On the path from your old house, it was quiet like it always is in family neighbourhoods. But as you come closer to Eric’s old house; ruptures in form of music and laughter leak out the open windows. 

You had to stay longer in the library working. Time passed like it never does when one’s bored, and suddenly you had missed the first train and waited for the other. It isn’t too far out your old neighbourhood, just a few stations that with each passing minute gets dimmer and dimmer because of lack of lining lamps. 

Running the last passage to your front door to take the bike, and now you’re standing at his post. The same sign that hangs on the door, rusted of all year’s weather, intimidates you serenely. 

At last, with one foot you force down the supporting metal where all other bikes stand. Close eyes on the handle while the laughter is still muted. 

It has never felt so hard knocking on his door. 

The blurred window at the roof of the door; you stare at it when finally knocking. Anticipation hugs your knees painfully as you take a step back. Look at all places except the white door. Drag your hands along the clothing fabrics as if it’ll obscure you. 

Speakers frees from the door while you feel like running towards the woods. 

“Welcome in!” 

You don't recognize the man holding this door you’ve walked through since five. His expression contrasts your neutral one. There’s a red cup in his hand, he asks if you want some; you thank him, but reject. 

As you come in line with each other through the hallway with mountains of shoes, you look at his back, insecure, before speaking. 

“Do you know where Eric is?” 

He turns, “Hmm..” Scratching his nape and leaning toward the opening frames of all the different rooms. 

“I think he’s in the living room?” The guy points further into the apartment, you thank him. 

Despite all open windows and meters of space; the air is horribly suffocating. People sit two and two, talk in five’s, and a path like pattern goes through the crowd. You let it take you, hoping it somehow brings you to Eric. 

Your feet, that still have shoes on, cease to motion diagonally towards a large couch group. Between all those mere strange faces you’ve may seen once; a face so deeply dissected and remade sits in between. He’s at the center like the sun itself, and people gravitate towards him. 

Somehow you would go back to your corner, sink down quietly. But you’ve been running for too long. Hand behind your back, wrists rope tied while your conscious threats to slaughter from behind, push you forward. 

“Eric?” You say above the laughter, and his couch group turns towards you. 

You swallow when his expression changes to something calmly unreadable, “I need to talk to you.” 

A filter falls like a sheer cover of snow when he closes the door. They’re alone behind the house, blue illumination like an upside down universe highlights you from below. Neither Eric or you had said something, but it wasn’t noticeable until the world ran out of sound too. 

Eric’s silhouette leaves your side and sits by the edge of the pool. With his barefoots into the galactic mirror, his face shades and colors like the moon. You too walk to the edge, sit by his side and see his legs make waves throughout the water. 

He’s unfamiliarly quiet; similar to when you know something someone else doesn’t. 

“I think I like someone, Eric.” You say gently without wasting. 

He looks at you, soft and tender, “You do?” He smiles. 

You smile too and nod. 

His feet make water soar before becoming whole again. Your fingers tear at the concrete lining the pool. 

“...and I’m not sure he likes me back…therefore it can’t be you.” 

Heavy silence like the Universe itself weighs over them. World’s full of life, yet there’s an empty echo in the marrow arch of your cathedral body. 

Eric gazes at the transparent surface of the water, smiling weakly because it’s the only thing right to do.

“Though, I still love you, Eric.” You lean towards his shoulder. Tear his side profile like you beg it is not the last time you see it. 

“So much as you can possibly love someone, and a little more.” 

He looks up, fringe falling, “It’s okay, I know.” 

Voice fragile, so heartbreaking against the smile that could light up the entirety of the solar system. He’s like the pool beneath, a galactic universe tightly compacted into a pond. 

His mere existence makes your eyes glisten and words frail, “I’m sorry.” You whisper.

He smiles and takes your wrist, “Why are you saying sorry, princess.” 

They both sit there for a moment. The constellations pass a centimeter above the bended celestial before you walk up. Half disappear behind the wall while Eric is left at the pool edge. You can’t bring yourself to leave; having one eye on his back as if it'll fall when you go. 

Eric looks back to your wall suddenly, like he knows. 

“I’m sorry.” You say it again, nails exhaustingly tearing at the house. 

Eric shakes his head, waving you off gently before speaking quietly, “Go get your prince.” 

Stones shatter beneath the weight of two tires. All houses are drowned in nightshade glistens of warm lighted windows like the stars above, that is childhood. 

Grass divided into squares lined with fences; streamline, down the gravel path until it opens up in a wide circle. You know this place because here’s where everyone always met. 

All those gravel paths, identical to the one you just left maze down to a grass circle. The very heart of all these houses, a meter lower than the rest. You pass the path contouring it and all these strokes of green nature hinders you down. You stop with one foot off the pedal and lean your weight while standing up. 

Where all distance creates a perfect cross; a boy much familiar to you lies. His own bicycle stranded a meter or two from his still body. Laying on his back with his head tilted on its forearms. Sunwoo’s completely still like midnight around him. It calms you just how water drains from head down after sunshine, but heart tears at its veins. 

You found him. 

To let go of the bicycle; forcing down the metal to leave it standing. Eventually you walk towards him, slowly as if you’ll scare him away. 

About three meters from his feet; Sunwoo suddenly looks away from the star fields and up to you. 

“Oh, hi Y/n.” He says like he always does. 

You cease to stop, “Hi, Sunwoo.” 

He can’t quite place why you’re here. You seem to come up in unexpected moments; take him by heart like a sudden season though he’s been admiring the trees for an eternity. It begins with your hair; how it seemingly floods down on your shoulders. Just like the jewel reflection like glitter under your eyes . 

“You’re crying?”

You’re taken back by his question; taking a hand to the cold skin beneath your vision. Liquid dried tight to your complexion.  

“It’s a long story,” You stutter; head turns to the ground before your expression becomes decrepit, but poetical. 

“I’ll tell you later.” 

After silence, you sigh; lending a bit of your worry to Earth. All the heavy mountains, all heavy oceans.

You start, “I have something to tell you.” 

Grass stands in between his fingers when they lie flat against the ground. Sunwoo forces himself up while observing your expression. You neither walk closer or further; chin falling in patterns as pupils pierce onto the sight behind him or the grass beneath his feet. Only in mere passages eye contact lasts. 

You open your mouth to speak, but realize you have a bad habit of coating everything in a thin layer of sugar as if feeding your words to a child. But there’s a certain bitter aftertaste in being honest. 

“I love you, Sunwoo.” The words free from a deep part within. Tears off the inner skin and momentarily aches the body cathedral. He doesn’t say anything. Sitting in place, whether it’s of shock or horror, one can’t tell. To expand the details of his expression, but there’s always two possibilities to his wide eyes and space between lips. Hurriedly you continue. 

“I really like you Sunwoo, I’m sorry.” You look down to the left, “I just needed to say it.” You open your arms, not like a hug, rather an impediment. 

“So do what you want, Sunwoo.” You breathe in heavily while searching for the world reflected in his window. 

“Just break my heart if that’s what you have to, please, just–” 

“I love you too.” 

“...do–what?” Your arms fall to their sides and the pupil without dimensions expands across the pearl, reaching the far edge of its colorization. 

“I love you too.” He stutters more this time. 

Every cosmic mass bulging on your shoulders and tearing your back convulses from behind. It like everything eventually does; changes form and frees for the roof without limit. It has compressed your lungs into tiny pulses, you didn’t even notice. Yet the milky way’s worth of celestial bodies frees from you; only eyelids show movement. 

You breathe heavily while looking at Sunwoo with parted lips. He looks just as cosmically affected as you. 

“But aren’t you together with Jaehyun?” He suddenly says. 

You’re quiet for a second before bursting out in laughter. 

“No…no.” You take your hands up before your chest and smile “You’re still there?” 

Sunwoo’s still crossed brow of confusion. Neither laughing nor speaking. 

“I was his fake girlfriend for the parties, but we’re not like that.” 

You pause. 

“We could never be like that…” You hold your arms behind your back, titling your head when a star aligns with his position. 

“Not when you exist.” 

He admires you deeply in the same way, one layer below. Knees have come up to his chin and he hugs them slightly while hypnotized following the last season’s breeze across your face. 

You’re not sure what is supposed to happen now. But truthfully, you could live adoring the opposite like this for an eternity longer. 

Though, Sunwoo has other plans. 

The surface of his shoes bend down the grass as he stands. The last meters dying to collapse cease from existence; all before you even lift your head from your shoulder. Just as your eyes widen he’s against you gently. Sheer touch of his fingers across your lower face before he tilts. At last you touch and love-soul bitten sensations fill two hearts. 

You look at him again after the kiss; his face so beautiful you believe he could overthrow the world. 

© littleroaes, written and all

a/ n : i kind of broke my own heart by writing reader and juyeon just being friends 😭 it took all my will power

love spectrum spoiler

have flirty/ cute dynamic in the beginning but becomes friends : juyeon, changmin

romantic storylines but do not end up with : eric, hyunjae

end game : sunwoo

tagging : @darcymariebraun-blog @sungbeam @tbzhub @sanaxo-o

[storm-angel989]

How would Valentino and the other fees reacting to his daughter being insecure? Btw I love ur writing!

Hi friend, 

Aw! Thank you so much! So I recently did a thing where Vox and Velvette find out they’re going to have a child. This little fic stars Valentino x Reader’s daughter from OTO and Vox and Velvette’s daughter (her cousin).

You asked for insecure- how much more insecure can you be when you feel like your place in your Aunt and Uncle’s life is being usurped? 

Enjoy!

<3 Mandy 

My Aunt Velvette and Uncle Vox were my second parents growing up. As much as I needed my Mom and Dad, I spent just as much time in their studios, in their bedrooms, being babysat and sneaking ice cream. One of my favorite memories growing up was the weekend that both my parents went out of town and my Aunt and Uncle took me for a weekend of fun- Loo Loo World (which was much better than the knock off Loo Loo Land), ice cream, and giant sleepovers in their bed. Looking back on it, I was sure I missed my parents, but my Aunt and Uncle kept me so busy and so happy, I was too distracted to be bothered too much by their absence. 

Now that I had a baby cousin of my own, I was determined to be the cool, fun person that they were to me growing up. So whenever Aunt Velvette asked me to babysit, I took it as seriously as I could. Usually, it was just for an afternoon. But with my Mom and Dad out of town more and more often and both my Aunt and Uncle working, being a babysitter was less of a request and more of a necessity. This weekend was no different than the last. Mom and Dad were gone, and Aunt Velvette and Uncle Vox had to work, leaving me the babysitter. Again. 

“Sweetheart, if you could both come on down to my studio around 11:00, I have some modeling for her to do,” Aunt Velvette said to me. 

A twinge of unfamiliar envy settled over my stomach and I tried to push it down. There was no reason to be jealous of my cousin. Aunt Velvette and Uncle Vox told me before she was born that I would always be their little girl too, and always be loved just as much. It was probably toddler modeling, a clothing line I was too old for anyway. But as I wiped the crumbs off the three year olds face and took her hand in mine as we stepped onto the elevator, the feeling grew ever so slightly stronger. 

“Mommy!” the little girl shrieked as soon as the elevator door opened. 

She released my hand and took off across the studio. I hurried behind her, but to my dismay, she ran right into her Mom and wrapped her head in her skirt. 

“Sorry, Auntie Vel,” I apologized, “she just wanted you.”

“No matter, I need her anyway,” Velvette replied as she lifted her daughter up and cuddled her to her chest. “Did you have a good morning baby? Did you? Tell Mummy all about it.” 

I watched as she carried her across the studio and after a moment, I followed behind. The longer I stayed, the worse I felt. I loved my little cousin, but part of me wished my own parents were nothing more than an elevator ride away. My mom worked in another building, and more often than not was gone for periods of time. And I wasn’t allowed in my father’s studio under any circumstances. There would be no mid-day mom hugs for me- something my cousin was currently relishing in. I could feel the envy slowly start to melt into something else. Sadness, maybe? 

“Hey, Aunt Vel? I know I said I’d babysit, but if she’s doing a shoot with you do I need to stay? If not, I’d like to go swim some laps at school while the pool is still open,” I said as I watched Velvet lace up the back of my cousin's dress. 

“Hmm? Oh, sure, I don’t need you here. Go do whatever it is you want to do,” she replied, her eyes on her daughter. “Baby, smile, you look beautiful darling, Mummy loves you so much!” 

I turned and walked away silently, my heart heavy in my chest. I had two parents who loved me more than anything, so why did I feel so bad? I trudged up the stairs, tossed my swimming gear in my back and paged a limo to take me to school. Maybe a little swim would actually make me feel better.

Two hours later I had more than lost count of how many laps I had swam. Not that it mattered, my VoxTech watch kept track when I couldn’t. Body shaky, I pulled myself up on the deck and took a drink out of my water bottle as I hit the reset button. My body was definitely tired, but the feeling of sadness hadn’t gone away yet. With a sigh, I lowered myself back into the water and slid my goggles back over my eyes. Maybe another few laps would help. 

I dove under and pushed my body through the fatigue. At the end of the lane, I flipped and made my way back down. To my surprise, a familiar hand waved in the water and I stopped and lifted my goggles up as I caught my breath. 

“Uncle Vox? What are you doing here?” I asked.

“Your Aunt sent me to check on you. She said you sounded a little off this morning, and it looks like you’ve been swimming for awhile- why don’t you get out and take a break for a little bit?” He suggested gently. “Come on, I brought you a snack. And if you’re going to work your body this hard, you need to fuel it.” 

Part of me wanted to scramble up out of the pool and take him up on his offer. But another part of me, a bigger part of me, didn’t want his attention. Or Aunt Vel’s, for that matter. I wanted this icky feeling inside of me to go away. 

“I’m fine, Uncle Vox. Really. You can tell Aunt Velvette that too,” I replied as I swam backwards. “I’ll be home later, I promise.”  I slipped my goggles back down over my eyes. Without another word, I dove back under the water. 

Another hour passed. Then two. Finally, I hit my limit. My body shook and any feeling I had was long gone, replaced by sheer exhaustion. I lifted myself out of the pool, swung my body around to face the lanes, and leaned forward as I caught my breath.  I closed my eyes and to my surprise, I felt a towel over my shoulder. 

“You know, you’re going to have to talk at some point. You can’t exercise your problems away,” Vox’s voice was soft. 

“Nothing’s wrong, Uncle Vox. Nothing happened, I just…I want to do really well this season,” I replied as I wiped my eyes with my towel. To my dismay, the feeling of sadness flooded back and I squeezed my eyes shut.  “I’m fine.”

“That’s not the voice of someone who’s fine,” he said softly. “Come on baby, talk to me.” 

“Nothing happened,” I said sharper than I meant to.

“Didn’t say it did,” he replied calmly. “But something is bothering you. Come on, spit it out.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “No, cause it won’t come out right. Uncle Vox, I just…I just want to go home, okay? Leave me alone.” 

Instead, he sat down next to me. 

“Then don’t worry about it coming out right. Just let it out, sweetheart. You’ll feel better, I promise,” he told me gently. “Come on, we don’t keep secrets from each other, do we?”

Slowly, I shook my head no. 

“Right, sweetheart. Now isn’t any different. So spill, kiddo,” he put his hand on my shoulder. “Come on, I’m listening.”

“It’s not fair that….I just…I wish my mom and dad paid as much attention to me as you guys do to your daughter,” I blurted out. “It isn’t fair that she gets to go and see her mom and dad whenever she wants and my mom isn’t here half the time and I’m not allowed in my dads studio! It’s not fair and I hate it!” 

That icky feeling washed over me and I could feel the tears start to burn.  I scrambled to my feet and turned to run towards the locker room. 

Vox’s hand caught my arm and he pulled me back. 

“Hey, babygirl, it’s okay,” he said softly. “Hey, I’m here. Reader. Reader, listen to me. I’m here.” He wrapped me in his arms and pushed my head to his chest as he held me. 

“I love her and I love you guys and I’m sorry,” I choked out. “I just, I wish…”

“And we love you,” he said quietly as he held me. “We love you honey.”

“I’m sorry,” I said as I tried to rub my eyes. “Uncle Vox, I love her and,”

“And no one thinks you don’t. It’s a hard adjustment, especially when you see her start doing things that you used to do,” he said gently. “But you don’t need to feel insecure or unsure about your place in our lives, baby. We love you very, very much.” He kissed the top of my head and gave me a gentle squeeze. “But whenever you do feel sad, or insecure or even jealous, you need to come tell us. Not work yourself into exhaustion.” He pulled off his jacket and took the wet towel from around my shoulders before draping the dry coat over me. “Come on sweetheart, let’s get you home.” 

One hour, a bottle of red gatorade and a hot shower later, I felt a little bit better. Dressed in my pajamas, I made my way out to the living room. 

“Reader!” My cousin screamed as soon as she saw me. “Reader! I made you a picture!”

I looked down at the pink and purple scribbles etched on a piece of paper. I swallowed as guilt washed over me. How could I have ever been jealous of her? 

“Thanks,” I muttered. “I’m going to go put it in my room.” 

I turned and made my way back to my bedroom. I closed the door behind me, turned off the lights, set her picture on my desk and climbed under the covers. The icky feeling had returned full force and I wanted nothing more than to be alone. 

Unfortunately, my Aunt Velvette had other plans. The bedroom lights flicked on and I shut my eyes tight. 

“Oh stop, we both know you’re not sleeping,” Velvette’s voice scolded lightly. “Sit up, your Uncle made you soup. He said you needed something in your system and you probably weren't up for much. So come on, sit up now.”

Reluctantly, I sat up and she pressed a warm mug into my hands before perching herself on the edge of the bed.

“Drink up,” she told me. “I want every drop gone.”

Reluctantly, I took a sip. The feeling of warmth exploded on my tongue and before I knew it, it was empty. Velvette took the mug from my hand and set it on the nightstand.

“That’s a good girl, now snuggle under the covers,” she told me. 

“Aunt Vel? Did you…did you talk to Uncle Vox?” I asked as she tucked the covers in around me. 

She kissed my forehead. “I did. Love, it’s okay to feel those feelings. But we need to talk about them, not punish our bodies. I wouldn’t be surprised if you still feel icky, but I promise a good night's sleep and you’ll feel much, much better.” 

“Okay,” I replied softly. “Good night, Aunt Velvette.” 

“Goodnight sweetheart,” she replied. 

I heard her footsteps shuffle across the room and the lights clicked off. I snuggled under my covers and closed my eyes tightly. Maybe Aunt Velvette was right. Maybe I would feel better in the morning.

[sunniques]

🦊 anon here, came to be freaky and share my nasty thoughts of today and ask ur help to make it sound pretty; maybe you could do any of them in a small drabble? (btw, hi gorg!<33 How have you been? Hope everything goes absolutely wonderful and u have pretty days). Srry if it’s too much though, kisses.

My today victim is Jeonghan cause I have been missing him way too much lately. I can picture him:

•College teacher: You get to college, despite being already “old” between people of your career, you are pretty innocent and less lived. So, he takes advantage of it, slowly corrupting you, getting you nasty ideas, flirting with you, discreet touches in class, giving you better grades, in any exposition, work or whatever, is so obvious he has an slight favoritism with you, he literally works so hard to make you so dirty. He gets to be your first and after a while, he just fucks you everywhere, his office, the classroom where he teaches students of your career, the labs, bathrooms, when he takes your class to field trips of school related. And he gets all freaky and very bdsm, exhibitionism, spanking, leaving you full of hickeys, trembling, edging you and getting you over stimulated…

•Stepdad: Mom goes to a work trip, he is left with you and literally, his corruption kink enters, using your panties to jerk himself, grinding on you until both cum untouched, taking you in every place; idk. Just him so freaky (like Seungcheol stepdad fic 🫶🏻)

•Stepbro: Ngl, this has gotten me so excited too. Though, on this one you and him get hooked up on a frat party, get on a sort of friends with benefits relationship at college. But when vacation period comes, you meet him on the house where your mom lives with his new husband (for some reason either when Han or you went to visit them, you never bumped and well, no family or really too emotional/attached conversations happen). Despite that, it doesn’t stop you or Han from fucking, on dinner time he fingers you under the table, watching a movie and you jerk him off, at the pool were he “pretends” to be carrying you to teach you how to swim but since you two are on the deepest part; neither your mommy or his daddy can see how he is thrusting his dick so deep into you, his cum from a previous round coming out of your swollen cunt.

•Idol Universe: He just is a sucker for you, you are an idol too. Both of you meet on a music show, he takes you on a bathroom, on your changing room, touches and gazes when all the idols gather for the award receiving, sends you messages hidden on the sandwiches. And idkk, this one is a little messier and freak; cause you happen to be bouncing over his dick, his mouth engaged on your boobs as he sucks on them, he is really obsessed with them and he loves to “feed” from them. Then, one of the hyung line (it could be any of them, I have a thing for the older line. It makes me weak) enters and it gets into a messy threesome, cunt full of cum, having two dicks at the same time, railing hard from the back door, giving head. Literally, the three so used, spent, messy, sloppy and with a mix of juices that the three of you have to be taken through the back door because it would be so obvious what happened if you exited from the front door (and there were already rumors about Han and you though, having someone else come too would be confusing and more rumors would be up) but yeah. Then, to say least; Han takes you to his shared house with Boo and it gets freakier a 4:1.

hey lovely! these ideas are absolutely delicious omfg

i’ve been good and i hope you’ve been well too 🫶

but professor!hannie with a major corruption kink would go so crazyyyy. like he’ll have you sucking his dick during lectures and make you constantly cockwarm him when his office hours are going. and he’ll fuck you on his desk all the time and make you scream because the thought of getting caught really turns him on. he’ll make you as filthy and nasty as he is, just his perfect little fuckdoll.

stepdad!hannie is just so gross, making you fuck yourself in front of him to prove to him how much you want his cock. he’ll fuck you in the bed he shares with your mom, in your room, in the living room—literally everywhere. he even fucks you in the backyard so the neighbors can hear how much you love his cock.

stepbro!hannie would be so crazy because he’ll love to fuck you in the house when both of your parents are there. it’s so fun for him to split you open on his cock, knowing you can’t keep quiet. he’ll do it on purpose too, teasing you that you’re going to get the both of you caught. that only turns the both of you on though.

idol!hannie actually has me going feral bc he wouldn’t care that there’s so many people that can catch you. he’ll be so addicted to your tight pussy that he can’t help himself. enter seungcheol who slides his aching cock into you too because hannie tells him how your needy little pussy wants more. you’re just a mess between them, gushing all over them and just moaning for their cum. back at hannie’s house the same thing happens, except shua and jun are waiting to have their turn with you too.

[sw-33-ts-stuff]

Could you do a Wednesday Addams x gn!reader/ yoko tanka x platonic!reader

R is Enid’s younger sister and is very different *she’s blind since birth and is condescendingly treated like a baby by her family because they think she a helpless weakling that need constant supervision 24/7 depsite her being extremely gifted in playing the violin*

The only one she is close to is yoko and Enid as they’re the one ones who let her be a little indenpent. Enid litterally had to negotiate with principal weem that let r come with her to nevermore and yoko see r as a little sister as she is her roommate. Enid introduce Wednesday to her sister and falls hard for r

Her sister and yoko are happy to see r being with someone who love her dearly, but they can’t help but feel a bit overprotective

*however they know they can’t do the shovel talk to Wednesday as both are terrified of her and know she can and will hurt anyone that would lay a hand on r. They would deny nor confirm that they may have had a hand in help Wednesday in torturing those people alongside with thing and them getting into shenanigans whenever r has a date with Wednesday or uncovering a mystery 😂😂😂😂

*idk why but it would be funny if people would refer the three girls and thing as the protection squad or something or. The reason why is because while Enid and yoko are friends and Wednesday barely tolerate them and thing, they form some sort of mutual respect as they form an alliances with each other and making sure nobody messes with r. I could see Wednesday being like her dad as she unkowningly has the urge to protect r from anything that would harm her. she see r as a very beautiful and strong person with a gentle soul. While R can’t see her gf face but she can detect the sincerity in Wednesday voice and appreciate her being sweet to her and is the only one who r will allow to treat her like a baby *she know Wednesday doesn’t do it to be condescending but rather of her family curse. r is the only that Wednesday will allow to call her “Ness” She sometimes lets r be with her when playing her cello even allowing her to do a duet with her violin

I got so lost in this I think I may consider trying to make this into a series 😭…

3rd Person POV

Y/N Sinclair sat on her bed practicing her violin when her sister barged in.

"Y/n! You'll never believe this I'm getting a new roomie!" She squealed.

The younger girl smiled at the thought of her sister having someone to talk to, knowing how lonely she'd get whenever she or her roommate Yoko wouldn't be able to.

She knew how hard it was to be alone. For a werewolf solitude was a death sentence.

"The strength of the wolf comes from the strength of the pack."

Their mother always said this as their father would quietly sit back already preparing to speak to each girl separately.

"Your mother loves you she just doesn't know how to show it."

Her unseeing eyes almost rolled at the thought.

"I'm kind of worried though," her older sisters voice dropped below a whisper as she leaned in. "Rumor has it she killed one of her old school mates by dropping piranha in the swimming pool."

Y/n felt her eyebrows raise at the information before she shook her head.

"Now you of all people know better than to start spreading rumors. Don't you remember when Kent tried getting everyone to think Yoko and I were a thing?" The older Sinclair growled.

That was the tame version of events she'd given you, Kent had actually spread a rumor that you were "up for a good time". She remembered how she had threatened the boys manhood if he or any of his idiot friends even thought about looking your way. Her claws dug into his thigh, mere centimeters away from his favorite appendage as she made sure he knew just how good she'd be on her threat.

She nodded smiling. "You're right I'll wait until she gets here to get the 4-1-1 for my blog."

Y/n laughed at her sisters need for gossip. Of the two, Y/n was far more reserved than her sister.

Since she was born, her family had been...protective of her. A wolf without eye sight to them was by far the worst curse put on anyone, even worse than being sentenced to a life alone. As a child her parents kept her in their sights at all times, the only times she was truly alone and free to do as she pleased were when she'd practice the violin. The music was her only solace, which is why Enid had begged Principal Weems to grant entry for her sister to Nevermore. She knew if left alone with her parents she'd never have any type of privacy or a chance at independence.

While it was true Enid could be overbearing at times she never tried to dictate her sisters choices or influence her actions to benefit her in anyway.

.

.

.

It had been a few days since Enid showed Wednesday around and tried to get to know her. She felt that the girl was far too rough around the edges and may need to relax but she was dedicated to getting her roomie to break her walls down. Especially since she'd grown attached to Thing, who was practically her new bestie.

They were walking to lunch when the two girls caught sight of Yoko holding a lanky boy by his shirt collar against the wall. Her girlfriend Davina trying to calm her down by placing her hand on her shoulder.

The girl hissed fangs bared to the boys neck lightly grazing it with each word she spoke.

"If you even think of doing something to Y/n again I promise I'll forget school rules and make you my personal blood bag, understood?" The boy gulped nodding as he trembled in fear.

"I swear." She let him go grabbing the bag and pushing him as he ran away cowering as he met Enid's gaze.

Wednesday observed in silence as Enid's claws began to elongate, Davina rubbing her girlfriends shoulders and whispering calming words in her ear. Enid had walked up to her almost forgetting Wednesday was with her.

"What happened?" Enid asked. Yoko felt herself grow angry once she caught wind of the fur balls words. She'd overheard the boy laugh about how he'd stolen the blonde girls bag, already going through her wallet as he counted the money left inside. The fang just took a deep breath and handed the bag to the older Sinclair sibling. Enid growled lowly looking back into the direction the boy had gone.

"That's the third time this semester." She gritted out. Yoko nodded irritated.

Her relationship with the younger Sinclair sister was much like the one she held with Enid. The shorter blonde had wormed her way into her heart the minute she introduced herself. She didn't know if it was her aura of pure innocence or the smile that rarely left her face but Yoko found herself bonding with the werewolf quicker than she had expected. Vampire were usually cautious of her kind but Enid and Y/n we're nothing like the other furs. Besides the curse of the full moon, they were more alike than she'd thought.

Yoko knew all about overbearing parents and a need to be your own person. She was expected to run her coven and follow their traditional ways, including marrying a strong young male vampire. They had yet to find out about her girlfriend or the fact that she didn't want to lead.

It irked her to no end how her parents never truly listened to her. And she knew Enid and Y/n were of the select few who understood.

She couldn't fathom how anyone could want to take advantage of the blind girl.

Wednesday watched them both glancing into the direction the boy had gone.

"I don't care for bullies." Yoko and Enid looked to the goth. The vampire smirked as her fangs peeked out a bit, she lowered her glasses looking at Wednesday.

"Rumor has it you put piranha into your last schools swimming pool. The boy lost a testie." She grinned.

Wednesday merely nodded. "It's true I did fail to rid the earth of another brainless jock like Dalton but I doubt he'll make the same mistake twice."

Yoko just nodded smirking, it was nice to know there was at least one more person who wouldn't try to bully Y/n just because they could.

Enid went to take her bag to her sister. She found the girl in her room on her knees hands out trying to feel if she could find her bag on the floor.

"Y/n" the girl called softly. The younger girl shot up quickly.

"Oh hey Enid," she blushed slightly dusting the dirt of her skirt. "I was just looking for my bag."

"Right here pup." She said softly as she handed it to her. "How about we get some lunch?" The younger sister nodded.

The Sinclair Siblings sat at a table that with Yoko, Davina, Wednesday, and Eugene. Most of the group saying hi except Wednesday who kept her attention on the book she was reading.

"Wednesday," Enid called out. "This is my sister Y/N, Y/N this is Wednesday. I'm going to grab our lunches."

The goth went to give you a quick glance before she paused. You looked slightly to the left of her providing a small smile and a wave.

"Enid mentioned you're not big on touching or talking. So I'll keep it short its nice to meet you."

Your soft voice was like a symphony to her ears. Wednesday continued to stare as Enid returned sitting next to you. She looked to her roommate fully prepared to try and negotiate that she please, please be nice when she noticed something different in the pigtailed girls usually dull gaze. It looked to be...intrigue?

"Nice to meet you as well bellisima." Wednesdays eyes widened as she stood abruptly leaving without another word.

Yoko's eyes narrowed as she looked to see you blushing.

"Doesn't that mean beautiful?" Your bestfriend asked.

You shrugged paying extra close attention to your meal as Enid felt her jaw drop. You knew exactly what it meant and something about the way the word rolled off her tongue made you feel warm inside.

Did Wednesday just flirt?

Wednesday slammed the door to her room startling Thing.

"Something is wrong with me."

Thing signed frantically as Wednesday continued to shake her head at every guess he had. 

"Worse." She paused. "I'm becoming my father."

.

.

.

It was late and you knew you probably shouldn't be practicing your violin but there was someone playing cello and you felt compelled to play with whoever was on the other side of campus. You went out to your balcony careful to not wake Yoko she could sleep through anything but if she were to hear you moving she'd immediately wake up to make sure you wouldn't hurt your self.

The piece began simple enough but as the cellist continued they began to increase the tempo. Half of campus shaken from the slumber at the sound of a concert hall echoing throughout. Enid smiled slightly at your playing for once not annoyed with Wednesdays late night session.

The two of you continued for a while before Wednesday had finished. She climbed back in turning to Enid.

"Who else at this God awful school may actually have acceptable music taste?" The werewolf smirked internally still fearful that her roommate would skin her alive if she did so externally. Wednesday saw a slight smug glint in her roommates eyes knowing she'd most likely hate her answer.

"Y/n." The raven held back a groan, it seemed there was even more to you that intrigued her.

As if looks weren't enough.

Enid watched her roommate quietly go to her bed, glancing to Thing who sat smugly on her desk fingers kicking like a child on a swing.

.

.

.

"Hello Y/n." Wednesday spoke softly as she went to sit next to you in Botany. You smiled in her direction.

"Hey Wednesday, I didn't know we were switching partners?"

The gloomy girl glanced over to Ajax who couldn't meet her gaze. Yoko laughing silently behind her hand as she had watched Wednesday threaten to feed him to her menagerie of pets if he didn't switch seats with her. Enid glanced amused and irritated at the scowl Xavier wore because Wednesday had chosen to sit next to you instead.

Both Yoko and Enid continued to watch Wednesday closely as she spoke to you. Both surprised when she managed to get you to laugh. Since she lived with her, only Enid could detect the microscopic changes in expression as she looked to her younger sister. Her eyes softened ever so slightly and the corner of her lips were quirked up as you'd responded to whatever she'd asked you.

Class began and the two were forced to pay attention to the lesson before them.

Wednesday couldn't help but stare at you as you listened intently to what the teacher was saying. In most cases people would type their notes but you felt the noise may disturb others so you would record the lectures and later go over the notes in your room.

The goth couldn't help but admire you. Personally, she wouldn't care if they found it to be a nuisance, yet she found it endearing that you would. It made you seem that much stronger, not letting such trivial things hinder you.

As class finished she found herself helping you by taking your books and leading you to your next class. You quietly thanked her as she did so, as you went to sit down someone's foot shot out to trip you.

Wednesday caught you by the waist standing you upright before turning to the culprit. Her eyes narrowed to see one of the Gorgon boys laughing with his friend. He looked back and froze at the sight of Wednesday's glare.

"Thanks again Wednesday." The girl immediately softened at the young werewolf's voice.

"I'll be back after class mi vida."

Wednesday sat in her next class writing a note to Thing who began to crawl his way to the boys dorms.

He placed mirrors in the boys locker-room showers before he made his way back to Wednesday.

When class ended Wednesday was already making her way in to help you.

Enid and Yoko were outside expecting to help you but froze at the sight of Wednesday walking beside you and directing you to your next class.

The two glancing at each other unable to determine if they should be happy with your newest friendship or terrified at Wednesdays unpredictability.

.

.

.

Enid babbled on about her beloved Poe Cup to Thing as Wednesday began her hour of writing.

Yoko came into the room hastily.

"Enid," she glanced to see Wednesday glaring at her as she paused her typing.

Oh shit.

The fang gulped as Wednesdays typing resumed. Enid looked to Yoko.

"Did you hear?" The werewolf just shook her head.

"That kid Josh and his friends were trapped in the locker room for hours. Someone put mirrors in there." Wednesdays typing faltered for a brief second but both girls noticed as Thing moved around "innocently".

Enid watched him as Yoko looked to see a small smirk on the ravens face.

Enid walked closer to Thing knowing if she'd ask Wednesday she'd probably make her into a nice rug.

"You wouldn't happen to know about this would you?" The hand shrugged as he continued flipping the pages of a magazine he'd gotten from the werewolf's drawer.

Wednesday knowing his will was weak glared before Yoko began coughing. The girl doubled over in pain as Enid rushed to the girls aid more people flooding in once they called for help.

Wednesday grabbed Thing as they made their escape.

"I need you to check Rowan's room while I go to the library."

The hand scurried to find more clues as a soft clicking caught the dark haired girls attention. Her usual glare softening as she found Y/N slowly making her way downstairs. She rushed to her side making sure she'd let the girl know of her presence.

"It doesn't seem safe for you to be wandering alone, querida." The girls head snapped up recognizing the voice right away. It was in her thoughts a lot lately and gave her butterflies every time she thought about the person behind it. She blushed as she felt a cool hand offer help slowly getting her down the steps one at a time.

"Thank you Wednesday, you always seem to be there whenever I need help." You couldn't see it but you felt her dark eyes on you as you both reached the last step.

"And I will continue to do so, for as long as you shall let me."

Wednesday wanted to bite her own tongue off as she had realized what she'd said. Obviously the filter between her mouth and mind was incompetent once you were in the vicinity.

She hated how soft her voice became when she spoke to you.

And how she felt this overwhelming need to protect you.

Or how-

"Thank you." She felt herself sag in defeat. You were too nice and for some reason it was her kryptonite.

"Why are you out so late?" The girl then started to shake.

"I think someone tried to hurt Yoko I smelled garlic in our room, but she’s deathly allergic and I would never eat it." Wednesdays eyebrows shot up.

That explains the coughing.

"I think it was Bianca," Wednesday found herself intrigued.

"Why?"

"The Poe Cups tomorrow." The goth nodded. Yes the competition that her roommate had yet to shut up about.

"Oh no." The girl gasped in realization making Wednesday step closer as if to protect her.

"What's wrong?"

"Yoko was on Enid's team and the cups tomorrow she doesn't have enough people." She watched the younger Sinclair sibling take a deep breath steeling herself. "Wednesday can you help me back to my room so I can get ready for tomorrow?"

The goth shook her head as Thing ran up to them holding a mask, stopping short when he saw Wednesdays hand begin to raise to the other girls cheek.

She felt her eyes rolling at what she was about to do next.

"I will help you back to your room," the girl went to turn, but a hand on her cheek stopped her short as her face was turned to Wednesday. "But I will be the one to replace Yoko at the Poe cup not you."

The werewolf's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

According to her sister, Wednesday wouldn't waste time on something as childish as games nor would she willingly help others. However the girl in front of you touching you so gently as if you were glass about to break made you think something else entirely.

"Wednesday," you breathed out. She leaned closer you could feel her just a breath away from you as your hands slowly began to lift up.

"Can I-"

Thing crawled up to Wednesdays shoulder abruptly making her glare at him. He pointed to the stairwell where Bianca and Xavier were walking down still yet to see either of you. She grabbed you, covering your mouth and hiding you behind a pillar.

"Wednesday Addams thinks she's better than everyone else and I can't wait to make her and her little werewolf roommate cry after we win the Poe Cup tomorrow." You growled behind Wednesdays hand as the two went to their rooms.

When the coast was clear Wednesday had let go of you seeing you breathe heavy as your claws began to elongate. You felt tears well up in your eyes as you realized you couldn't help Enid as much as you wanted to.

"Wednesday promise me you'll make sure Enid wins tomorrow." She grabbed your hand placing a kiss on the back of it.

"Anything for you, mi corazon.”

[starlightswordfight]

"jeremy if this is another hc post I'm going to kill you" bad news

castaway nonsense PART TWO

– schnauz is deathly afraid of water. it unsettles him deeply, largely because of past experience. do you SEE his treasure catalogue entry for the blue paint?? who "swims out" for the "last time" in a swimming pool???? someone fucking DIED

– on a slightly similar note, he laughs when he's nervous!

– he is Perpetually Nervous

– I think molly would REALLY like the evil skeleton wizard memes that have taken over my brain for the past several years. "not me being evil shadow skull" and no one knows what the fuck she's talking about

– molly writes fanfiction

– will let people borrow her camera if you ask nicely

– speaking of molly. her and patch and dash should be best friends forever. same home planet and they all do stupid shit. jin is also involved and they're the voice of reason

– dash has a lot of fidget toys. on him at all times

– wears those jackets where it's just an anime character wrapped around them all the way all bizarre like. he doesn't think it's a good design by any means it's just really funny

– frisé's favorite instrument is the didgeridoo

– also she's intersex. I can do whatever I want

– hitting frisé with the singing/humming/tapping on stuff as stims beam

– construction work is super fucking loud so I think corgwin just would not be bothered by sudden/incredible noise anymore. it just reads as background stuff to him! that or he like genuinely isn't picking up on some of it at all, it doesn't register. frequent tinnitus haver. he might be going deaf

– corgwin is tumblr famous. the pikmin universe tumblr equivalent anyway. inspired by the headcanon generator that told us in the pikmin server I'm in that charlie lit a school on fire and got away with it and that the rescue corps killed princess diana

– think about it. he'd share fun building facts. niche internet micro celebrity and everybody loves him

– lapi is also tumblr famous

– he likes frolicking around outside For Enrichment but he also does it in the rain and sometimes comes home sick

– guilty of making sketchbooks into renderbooks and taking several years to complete them. "but it has to be perfect" That Is The Devil Talking

– horatio is not immune to the fog

– he has a VERY specific skillset. like. like stupid specific. the guy is the most proficient xylophonist you've ever met but he can't cook. knows how aeronautics works but his phone call game is BAD. give him an old movie from decades back and he can tell you what it is and who acted in it and exactly where he was when he first saw it, easily. if you ask him for directions anywhere he'll crumble and die

– he wrote his ID badge like that. it was fully and completely on purpose. horatio thinks it's funny as hell

– françois really likes bugs! sees them all the time in his work even if his studies are flora centric. while on pnf-404 he probably talks about it a LOT with dalmo. botany/environmental science major who minored in entomology

– I just do not think he'd be afraid of them and that is beautiful. he allows nothing to dissuade him. he has pet spiders it is wonderful

– OKAY YOU KNOW THOSE THINGS YOU CAN GET AT THE KENNEDY SPACE CENTER AND IN OTHER PLACES WHERE IT'S LIKE ROCK SAMPLES FROM FOREIGN SPACE BODIES?? AM I INSANE??? in the little capsules and shit ????? yeah kit has those

– astrophysics lover. adores space science. worked at a planetarium before meeting osa. I don't remember if this contradicts the established lore and I am too tired to go back and check so if im wrong you can pelt me with stones and tomato

– osa lets him ramble on about it but in all honesty he does not know what the fuck kit is talking about half the time ever. ever

– vice versa! osa also has a huge nerd thing and it's world history. which makes sense for an archaeologist. I don't mean modern history either I mean ANCIENT

– fawks would unironically endorse the idea of a cybertruck but it never comes to fruition because everyone says it's stupid and he feels insulted and he gives up and sulks about it

– but he'd specialize. I know he would. he gets specific with it. good for him! my money is on prehistoric archaeology, stuff back before written text, and language, and any history that could be recorded with the power of words. which is why travelling to pnf-404 was so fucking important to him, he's been trying to construct something that would fill in the gaps of that lost starfolk history and this WAS the exact sort of thing that he was looking for

– technically they're doing geoarchaeology together. yes that's a subfield

– he is a tech bro and everybody thinks this is stupid and dumb also

– chewy

[russellsppttemplates]

Mick,Mama,Rora,Seb and baby Harriet going on vacation together

"Do you guys want to go to the beach or the pool, guys?", Mick asked the kids as soon as the two younger ones woke up from their naps, "can we go to the beach, papa?", Harriet said, earning a nod from Sebastian and making Aurora break into an enthusiastic run to the balcony, "I'll get the buckets!", your oldest said, "the beach it is then!", you smiled, packing the beach bag and backpack accordingly.

When you found a spot, Mick helped you unpack all the towells and swimming gear, immediately calling the kids so you could both make sure they were protected from the sun, "but you rubbed it in the morning, and when we were at lunch", Sebastian whined, "I know, buddy, but you still need it, okay? You need to be safe on the sun", Mick explained patiently, rubbing his cheeks before he helped you with Harriet since Aurora was only needed help with her back since she couldn't reach it.

"Can we go swimming?", Aurora asked, "mama is going for a swim, you can join her", Mick pointed, making sure her gear was properly put on, "are you going to build sandcastles?", Sebastian asked, weighing his options, "yes, me and Harriet are going to build some, do you want to help us?", he asked as the little boy nodded, sitting near his sister.

In the water, you and Aurora enjoyed the small waves to float around, "do you like being on holiday, mama?", she asked, "I do, schatz. I love being at home, and my work, but being here is nice, too. We get to have our own routine and do things slowly, calmly", you explained, seeing her unsure expression, "even when we wake up early and sometimes don't do exactly as you say?", she blushed, "of course, Rora. It's like that at home too, isn't it?", you smirked, "I know, but you also want to relax and we are always running around. I told Seb to slow down this morning but he says he's super fast, so he has to go super fast", she pointed out, earning a chuckle from you. "It's still relaxing, you know? We can do things we want just the five of us, we don't have a hard schedule to stick to, and even if Seb runs around a lot, and you're always onto the next activity and Harriet needs her naps and cuddles, it's still relaxing. Do you like being on holiday?", you wondered, thinking she was old enough to grasp the concept and wondering if she didn't enjoy it, "I really like it, too. We are all together, we play all the time and we can have cuddles any time of the day", she smiled, "and I don't see Sebastian and Harriet as much because I'm in another school, so it's nice because here I'm with them all the time", she admitted, making you smile.

By the sun umbrellas, Sebastian's tongue poked out of his mouth as Harriet urged him to perfect the castle, "Seb, that's not the right recipe", she mumbled, "That's why it's crooked". "Should we take it down?", he asked, his efforts not going a long way as the construction started falling, "what if you put more sand?", Mick suggested, grabbing a small shell and adding sand to the wetter parts of the castle, "see? It's going to be larger, but this way you make sure the base is good enough!", he smiled proudly.

"Oh, mama is coming back with Rora!", Harriet said, "her swimsuit is very pretty today", she added, "you're right, but mama always looks beautiful, doesn't she?", Mick tested, seeing his kids agree, "yes! But I told her first because she put it on when you were asleep!", Sebastian forwarded to this sister, seeing her pout, "I was asleep with my eyes closed, I couldn't see", she reasoned. "We all saw that mama is looking beautiful, no need to argue about that", Mick suggested, wanting to calm the waters. "What are we not arguing about?", Aurora asked, grabbing her towell and wrapping it around herself, "we were saying that mama's swimsuit is pretty", Harriet explained.

"Thanks guys!", you said, sitting next to Mick as you wrapped a towell around your shoulders, "do you want some snacks? Harriet, Seb, careful with your sandy hands", you checked over, seeing Rora offer her towell for them to clean their hands before she also grabbed some snacks from the bags.

When all three kids seemed happy munching on the food and drinks, you and Mick laid down on the double sun lounger, "it's true, you know", Mick added, "you look very very beautiful in this swimsuit", he complimented, kissing the side of your head, "says the man in a pair of small shorts that have been driving me insane", you said back, kissing his naked chest ans sighing, "I love these days", Mick said, "I was just discussing that worh Rora", you smiled, "we are all very in sync with eachother".

"Papa!", Harriet said, "I set my biscuit in the sand so I could drink and we've moved it around and we can't find it now", your youngest said, bringing you back to reality, "it's okay, you can have some of mine", Sebastian offered as Aurora looked for the biscuit still, "it's not much help that the biscuit is the same colour as the sand, is it?", she huffed, "I'm sorry, Harriet, I thought we'd find it, but it seems like a lost cause", she apoligised.

(Thank you for submitting an ask 🤍)

[duck-in-a-thrift-store]

Room/character closeup #2 (going in order from most to least popular based on the poll)

~Eddie & Steve's room~

Edit bc I accidentally posted this before I meant to: spoilers ahead for my full house au, as can be expected

Did you notice the pattern on the rug bc it's important to me that you notice the pattern on the rug I spent a good bit of time searching for this one specific rug guys I'm serious about this. Is it incredibly dark humor? Yes. But it is humor nonetheless

Anyway

One of my first priorities/things I took into consideration when working on this room was that I didn't want it to be too bright or have any sort of potentially eyestrain-y patterns. Steve has suffered repeated head trauma and I wanted his room to be a safe space where he doesn't have to worry about triggering a migraine or fucking with his vision or getting dizzy just from his surroundings. Hence why they have a darker, more subdued palette than most of the other rooms (which I guess you don't know yet since this is only the second one I've shown you but just trust me on this)

Beyond that, I admittedly had a pretty difficult time trying to figure out what I could do that I felt like both Steve and Eddie would vibe with decor-wise while still being a cohesive theme

Didn't want it to lean too far either way into metalhead freak or preppy golden boy territory, and besides I do think Steve's whole aesthetic isn't entirely his own and is at least partly influenced by the expectations placed on him, so I tried to go for a fairly neutral sort of vibe here

For some reason I settled on some blue jean lookin ass wallpaper, a rug patterned with the our-dimension-version of the critters that very nearly took their lives, and a few choice items to put on the walls

First off, the ship painting

This was sort of an unexpected last minute addition, partially bc I thought it looked nice with the rest of the room and partially as a character reflection

I wholeheartedly believe that Eddie Munson would fucking love anything pirate related, he probably was a pirate for Halloween at least once growing up, and he just thinks sailing ships are super cool. Plus the painting just felt like it would appeal to a fantasy nerd lol (it reminded me of the chronicles of Narnia actually but that's not really important)

And as for Steve, at least in this au but I know I'm not the only one who thinks so, he really likes water. Being in it, on it, around it- he likes swimming (refer back to his noted complicated feelings about the pool from my basement post), he likes the beach, he likes the ocean, and he likes sailing. He hasn't been many times but I'd totally buy the Harringtons having been on a yacht or some shit at one point or another. This character note may or may not be related to both his job at scoops ahoy* and him being on the swim team in high school, which is one of those things that at this point I honestly don't know if it was at all canon or if it's just one of those headcanons that become so popular in fandom that it feels that way, and at this point I can't be bothered to fact check it

*I think either he had a prior interest in sailing-related stuff and that was part of what initially drew him to that job specifically, or that working there sparked an interest which only grew with time, like maybe some of the silly slogans and terms used in ice cream flavors and maybe even the uniform stirred his curiosity/memories of going out on the water with his folks during the summers before they decided he was old enough to be left home alone for weeks at a time, and he started looking into actual sailing and found out he really liked it. (He can't stand the uniforms now though bc they trigger traumatic flashbacks, for both him and Robin)

Next, the bass/electric guitar on the wall, which I feel is pretty self explanatory honestly. It's Eddie's (although he does offer to teach Steve how to play- haven't decided yet whether Steve takes him up on that)

And then there's the horses (photo? painting?)

This is where the whole "horse girl eddie munson" thing came from; the whole idea was initially born of me trying to decide what I could put on their wall, liking this poster and asking myself if Steve and Eddie struck me as people who were into horses. As it turns out the answer was "hell yeah" and it spiraled into an entire fic idea of its own, which can be found here. As for this au, the background of them both having a "horse girl" phase/being into the idea of cowboys is still a thing, but obviously it doesn't progress the same way as that did (steddie cowboys my beloved but these particular multiverse variants are stuck playing house with their traumatized found family and slowly realizing that they actually enjoy co-parenting >:3 and this way everyone gets to stay together)

Also, speaking of the steddie cowboys thing this inspired, Eddie is trans in the full house au but Steve is a cis man (unlike in the other au). However Steve does have some gender moments here and there, like the kids "jokingly" calling him mom and him lowkey vibing with it (oh no I'm already doubting my ability to stick to the Steve being cis plan- bigender Steve agenda where did you come from??)

But yeah basically both of them are secretly horse nerds lol and that's something they discover while they're arguing over how to decorate (aka when they agree on this poster) and end up bonding over

And now for a note about their placement in the house (specifically who they share a floor with)

I've already explained that/why I wanted them on the same floor as Dustin Lucas & Erica, although I don't think I mentioned that Lucas and Steve are really close in this au* and it goes without saying that Dustin is super close with both of them

*it just feels right to me; also Steve was the only one of his friends to come watch his basketball game and Steve did chew Eddie out about that whole situation at some point but by now everyone is pretty much on good terms

Sometimes when any of the kids- but especially any of those three- have bad nightmares or can't sleep, they bunker down in Eddie & Steve's room,* the door of which is always open (metaphorically that is, but once they start dating... well let's just say the kids better knock or they're going to have yet another reason to be scarred for life lmao)

*some may think they're too old for stuff like this but I say- fuck that. A major theme of this au is acknowledgement of how these guys have had a large portion of their childhood stolen from them and the people around them are working to help them get it back, to let them just be kids and to make them feel safer than they have in a long time, so they're allowed to be "childish" and that's going to play a part in many of the events and details of this au. The same goes for the older guys too btw; like with this example specifically if Robin or Steve is the one waking up from a nightmare they find the other and both crash on the couch together for the night. You're never too old to seek comfort from your loved ones

[austin-in-taiwan]

July 20 - Taipei - Bei Tou Station, Library, Hot springs

Today was just a ½ day, so it was shorter than most. We started by taking the MRT (green line, red line, then pink line) to Xin Bei Tou. This area was historic for its natural hot springs. The first stop there was the landmark train station. From what I read, this was the only train station kept out of the entire old train system for historical reasons before the new MRT was built. It was interesting to see how the old train cars looked and the other artifacts and images from that era. After that, we stopped by the local library, which was very pretty on the outside. We walked quietly around the two floors, looked at some Chinese books, and saw the locals doing their reading/studying (or napping as I saw someone pass out in one of the chairs with his book). Afterward, we stopped by a bathhouse museum (I’ll explain more of the history in my academic reflection). We had to take our shoes off and use their sandals to walk throughout but it was very informative to the old culture of this area. On a side note, Jack ran into one of his old history teachers from Miami inside this museum, which I think is crazy.

Next, we decided to check out the hot springs. We visited a boiling hot spring (not safe to swim in for obvious reasons), which was actually the hottest place in Taiwan. It was so hot walking around this spring, and the sulfur smell was highly distinct. Needless to say, I got out of there as soon as I could. Despite the negatives, it was beautiful, and I’m glad I got to see it. We had planned to go into one of the hot springs that are safe to swim in, but since it was so hot, the one we saw had required the guys to buy speedos and not allowed to wear our swim trunks that we brought, and it was already about a million degrees outside, nobody ended up trying it. However, when we go to our next city, there will be hot springs there, so we’ve all opted to try them there instead.

After our morning exploration, we were set off to have the rest of the day free. First, a group of Iris, Brooke, Eli, Jack, and I followed Peter (our tour guide) to the nearest FamilyMart! Then Peter went home, and we went to a nearby Japanese restaurant because most of us hadn’t eaten breakfast and were starving.

As I am writing this, it is 3:50 pm, so I will be doing more activities after I finish my work for the day, but I will write about it in my next blog post. I am trying to find somewhere to get Chinese Cupping (yes, the stuff swimmers do that leaves the big red dots on their backs), so that might be in my next post!

Academic Reflection

The first Taiwanese history we explored today was the original Beitou station. There were many images and artifacts (including suitcases, hats, tickets, etc.) from when the station was in commission. I learned from the museum that this station, in particular, was very loved and part of the culture in Beitou, which is why it was important to preserve it for the museum. Standing inside one of the train cars and comparing the differences with today's was incredible. I would compare the differences between the trains to those between an old school bus and a modern coach bus.

Furthermore, we visited the Bathhouse Museum, another essential piece of history. First, the bathhouses were originally fully coed, but when the Americans came, they separated the showers with one pillar, but they were still in the same room. I couldn't imagine a coed shower like this, which is very different. In this bathhouse, you would shower, then go into the coed hot spring pool. Yeh Laoshi explained that back in history, nobody had personal showers, so they would come to these bathhouses maybe 3 times a week. I was shocked to hear that their hygiene was restricted to 3 showers a week, but then I thought, "At least they showered a few times instead of never."

[yearningagain]

don't let me drown

[PART ONE], PART TWO

so i had this thought and decided to elaborate on it, but i ended up having 1.5k words and i'm not even a third of the way done :,) so pls let me know if this would be something you guys would like more of!! this is my first time posting writing here except for a few snippets, so pls be nice but constructive criticism is welcome!

ft. modern au, Single(Seahorse)Dad!Eddie, SwimInstructor!Steve

Eddie Munson didn't know how to swim. Growing up in landlocked states while despising every swimsuit he was ever presented with, it just made sense. He didn't need to know how to swim, there was no reason for it, and he was perfectly fine with it.

Until Max.

Specifically, until Max decided, after watching the 2020 Olympic swimming, that she was going to be an olympic swimmer. She kept bugging Eddie, begging him to sign her up for swim lessons with all the umph a six year old could muster.

And Eddie was a weak willed man, especially when it comes to his daughter. So he said yes.

Eddie spent the next week and a half researching the best swim instructors around, googling and calling and looking at reviews. Eventually, he settled for the Hawkins Aquatic Center. With it being relatively close, a 20 minute drive at most, and having the best reviews out of any and all other pools in the area, it was a clear winner.

So that Tuesday, while Max was at day camp, Eddie made the call.

“Hawkins Aquatic Center, this is Robin! How can I help you today?” One of the bubbliest voices Eddie had ever heard answered the phone, immediately putting him a little more at ease.

“Hi, I was looking to set my daughter up for some swim lessons?” He asked, hoping Robin didn't pick up on his slight nervousness.

“Of course! I just need a little information. Her name, age and birthday, and skill level is what I need now, and I’ll ask for some more information about you once we schedule.”

“Yeah, for sure. Her name is Maxine Munson, but everyone calls her Max. She’s six, her birthday is June 14th, 2014. She doesn't really… know how to swim?” As he gave her the information, his nerves almost doubled. He couldn't swim, he wouldn't be able to practice with her! What if she drowns? What if something happens? What if-

“Alright, Mr. Munson, I’m assuming?” Robin asked sweetly, interrupting his spiral.

“Uh- yeah that's- that’s me. You can just call me Eddie. Eddie Munson, at your service! Ha! Sorry, that was, like, super lame.” He cringed at his antics, but a bubbly laugh filled the phone.

“Got it, Eddie! So from the information you’ve given to me, it seems like it’ll be best to put her in our beginners class for kids under 7. We typically have two instructors that rotate throughout the week, but one of them is on paternity leave, so she’ll only be with Coach Harrington. There's two options for this class. Twice a week, on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 4 to 5:30 in the afternoon, or three times a week, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays 5 to 6:30 in the afternoon. Do either of those work for you?”

Eddie hesitated. He knew how much enthusiasm Max had about swimming, but he was nervous about taking her so often. But the more time she can get in the water, the more she’ll practice. Plus first grade homework isn't terrible, so she’ll be able to continue when school starts up again.

“Eddie? You still with me?” Robin asked. He must have taken too long to answer.

“Yeah, sorry! Just, uh, just thinking.” He replied lamely.

Robin seemed to catch on to his anxiety. “A lot of parents are nervous about teaching their kids how to swim, I get it! But Steve, or Coach Harrington I should say, is the best in the area. He’s been an instructor here for a few years and loves it. There’s always lifeguards on duty and all of our staff are trained in basic first aid and CPR. Parents are always welcome to sit in on lessons as well, there's seating in the instructional pool area. Max will be in great hands!”

Eddie took a breath. Robin's ramblings helped put him at ease, knowing all of the precautions the center takes to keep everyone safe.

“Thank you so much, Robin. I think three times a week will work best, Max has been bugging me for weeks! I know she’ll be ecstatic when I tell her I signed her up.” Eddie can already picture her reaction, grinning and hopping around in excitement.

“Sounds great, Eddie! I can guarantee she’ll love it. So now I just need to ask you a few questions! I just need your email, the best phone number to reach you at, an emergency contact other than you, and we can get her all set!” Eddie breathed a sigh of relief, giving her the information she asked for.

“Alright, we’ve got her in the system! You guys can come in any time this week for a tour of the place and meet Coach Harrington, but her first lesson will be next Monday, August 10th. We do ask that she brings goggles, but we have extras in case she forgets them. Do you have any other questions for me?”

Taking a second to think, Eddie replied. “I think we’ve got everything covered. Thank you, Robin. I really appreciate your help!”

“It’s really no problem! If you do think of any questions you may have, you can always ask when you tour, or call us! We look forward to seeing you!”

All that was left to do was to invest in a good swimsuit, some goggles, and tell Max.

—-------------------------

“Hey, stinker! How was camp today?” Eddie asked as Max climbed in the car and got herself situated in her seat.

“It was great! We did finger paintings ‘n played on the playground! There was a worm on the slide and Lucas was too afraid to touch it, so I got it ‘n brought it to the grass!” Max beamed at her father, showing her gap toothed smile. “I’m gonna bring home the art tomorrow, but Miss Joyce said we have to let it dry tonight. I did a picture of us!”

Eddie laughed lightly at his daughter's antics, smiling right back at her. “Sounds like today was fun, bug! I do have a little surprise for you when we get home though, okay?”

That got Max’s attention quickly, asking all sorts of questions about it. Eddie simply smiled at her and turned up the music, an old The Cure CD playing on the radio system. As the volume rose, all Eddie could hear was an exasperated “Daaaaaad!” from the back seat.

The ride home was short and sweet, the ending of Friday I’m in Love fading out as they pulled into the driveway. As soon as the car stopped, Max unbuckled and sprinted towards the door, abandoning her backpack and lunchbox.

“I know you're excited, Max, but you have to come get your stuff!” Eddie called out as he exited the driver's seat. The sound of her Skechers on the concrete and her small giggles approaching before receding back to the front door where she bounced on her feet in a poor attempt of patience.

Eddie sighed and shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips as he unlocked the front door. Immediately, Max ran inside, throwing her stuff on the couch and turning to her father expectantly.

“Where is it? What is it? Can I know now?” She asked, her little body practically vibrating in excitement and anticipation.

Eddie laughed warmly, dramatically rolling his eyes. “I guess you can know now, since you’ve been so patient.” Max snorted at his sarcasm, eyes going crinkly at the corners. “Go look in your room, love.”

And with that, she was off. Running as fast as her little legs could take her, not minding her dad’s warnings to not run in the house. Practically tearing her bedroom door off its hinges, she rushed into her room. Sat in a neat pile on her bed was a small black and red one piece swimsuit, a pair of black goggles, and a print out of the confirmation email from the Hawkins Aquatic Center.

Finally catching up and leaning on her door frame, Eddie quietly asked, “What do you think?”

It’s a miracle the neighbours didn't call the cops that day.

All of Max’s excitement and happiness seemed to explode out of her, letting out one of the loudest screams he had ever heard. Before he could blink, the small child tackled Eddie into a crushing hug, jumping onto him like a koala.

“Really? You’re for real?” She asked, pulling her head back from the embrace to look at her dad, unshed tears threatening to escape from her eyes.

“I’m for real, baby. I promise.”

[vulpixelates]

that swimming while fat post is kinda fucking me up lmao not that the post is bad, it's just filling me w dreadful memories of me ruining my own life fueled by shame when i started to think i was fat in middle school and stopping all of my favorite physical activities bc i was so mortified of my physical form being perceived and judged by others

i wasn't actually even close to fat then (i am just like. a big person), i AM quite fat now. haven't even worn a swimsuit since i was under 12 because i was SO ashamed of my body, not even from direct sources shaming ME but just bc of how other people talked about other people's bodies around me. my mother and grandmother were some of the most critical voices of other women's bodies around me yet they were the least understanding when i starting showing symptoms of fucking hating myself lmao.

for a while i think i had been so close to reaching a point of neutrality about my body, especially when i was lifting bc my body had a use. but i feel like the more my physical health wanes, the more i have just come to resent my body all over again for different reasons but it just feeds into the same old shame.

i miss swimming. i was practically a fish as a kid; my cousins and i spent all summer in our grandma's pool. we spent hours a day pretending to be mermaids. and then i got fat (or at least thought i did) and they didn't. someday, i want to go swimming again.

[therosebunpost]

Summer Vacation Regrets

—————

Steve Harrington x Disabled! Disfigured!Fem!Reader

The Summer where you finally get that major surgery, but for some reason you don’t want to hang out with Steve before it happens. (A prequel/drabble to my Regret Series)

TW: Underaged drinking, heavily discussion of surgery, self esteem issues, hospitals, mentions of a near death incident, Reader is as neutral as possible but this story is heavily influenced by my life and experiences, so there may be some incidental coding. (Please feel free to give me feed back on anyway I can make this better!)

(Not beta’d, so I apologize for grammar)

—————

Steve was looking forward to summer. He already had it mapped out. Taking a job at the pool as a lifeguard, he was determined to save up for a car by the time he was 16 years old. His parents were proud, he was proud, and you were proud. Proud enough to promise him that you’d make the trek to hang out with him at the pool as many times as your parents let you, or you could sneak away on your big, clunky three wheeled bike.

It’s why getting that call was so confusing.

“I…I can’t hang out with you at the pool anymore. At least not for a few months.”

“Months? How many??”

There was some muttering on the line that Steve couldn’t quite make out. Not that he was really focusing on it too much. Months? You wouldn’t hang out with him for months?

“Two, two months.”

He says your name, exasperated. “That’s almost the entire summer! We’ll only have a month left!”

More muttering, now he can hear the sudden pain in your voice. “Wait, it…it might be…the whole Summer, Stevie.”

“What?!”

“I just came back from my doctor. They say it’s finally time, that I’m so close to getting my prosthetic. I just need to um, do something else first. That I need to recover from. So, no pool or anything.”

That gets him to calm down, just a bit. Right, your appointment. Your surgery. “Well, alright. Then we’ll just hang out another way! You know there’s that movie coming out, maybe you can ask your mom-“

“I can’t.”

Steve blinks, once again confused. “O…kay. I’ll bring stuff over then! Or you can come over! Oh, we could hang out in my pool. Does your mom know I’m a lifeguard? I promise we’ll be super safe, and she can even stay over with you, we have the room-!”

“I don’t want you to see me!”

There was that pain in your voice again.

"Oh god Steve it's, it's so awful. They have to put this implant inside of me, and it's gonna end up looking like this growth on my face. I hate it, I hate this so fucking much." You finally break down on the phone and Steve takes a moment to gather what your saying.

Sometimes the things you went through confused him. He's known you for years at this point but your condition still didn't make a lot of sense to him. From what you've told him, it didn't make sense to your doctor's either.

"...So I can't see you at all? You really are gonna spend all summer alone?"

"We can still call." You rush to tell him, and Steve can imagine the way you strangle the phone cord in your hands. "I dont…i just don't want to be seen. But I'll call you. i'll call you everyday."

"...When is it? The..implant?"

"Next week. Im going to home school for the last weeks of school."

"Holy shit, your serious?"

"Yeah. It's…Its bad, Steve. I…I cried after they told me the plan. Right in the room with mom."

"...Will you at least come over one more time this week? At least come hang out at the pool once?"

"..I'll ask mom."

-.-.-

Your mom does say yes, and hanging out at the pool was just as fun as Steve thought it would be. Sure, you couldn't swim but you hung out with him in the guard chairs. You spent the night, and you both sneak out to hang by his pool, alone.

Steve, ever the bad influence at times, passes you the bottle of beer. "...Are you really not going to do anything? Or see anybody?"

"...I just…I think I was finally starting to accept my appearance and now this? For months? I just…I hate it so much. Its like the universe hates me."

"It's probably won't be as bad as you think, I mean-"

"It's gonna be pretty damn bad. like, it's gonna be the size of my cheek. Maybe even bigger! I'll look gross." You lean back against the warm ground.

"The doctor said they could do a skin graph but they wanted to use the skin on my face first so it matches better. But like come on, it's all my skin, the difference can't be that much! It's not like they had that issue trying to use a part of my rib as a prosthetic!"

"....Didn't you say that your body…like…sucked it back in and that's why it didn't work?"

".....Okay, fair but still! A balloon?? On my face? It's like they don't even fucking care how awful that's going to be.The stares I'll get, the grossed out faces. It's like, how do they expect me to live with that?"

Steve laid down with you, and while he didn't know a lot about what you were going on about, he knows your frustrated.

"Remember when you got that bar on your face? The metal one?"

You gave him a look. "..Yeah?"

"You lived after that. You survived."

"I was like, five."

"So? You gonna let a five year old be braver than you?"

"Oh that is not the same-"

"Okay, what about when you got that thing out of your stomach? The feeding thing-"

"My G-tube?"

"Yeah. You literally bragged about having your stomach stuff coming out of you and just living with it. We were like, ten?"

"Im still not over the fact that the doctors didn't believe me about it not closing all the way, those jackasses."

Steve says your name and you sigh. "Okay fine, but that was then and this is now. I'm older, I care more about myself."

Steve snickers and you reach over and shove at him. He makes a show of nearly falling into the pool which you scoff at.

"Last summer, you and I went out on a canoe together without a person with us. Mind you, you could have died if we tipped over. We gave the counselors a heart attack."

You laugh at the memory, the rebellion rushing through your veins. "I had you with me!"

For a moment Steve is taken aback, but he's quick to shake his head with a smile. "Obviously. But anyway, are you gonna let this get you? Are you just not gonna hang out with me because of a bunch of assholes? Do you think I'm an asshole?"

That makes you whip around to face him, aghast. "No, Steve what-"

He levels you with a long stare. "Then why do you think I'd care about it? You're my friend. I wanna spend the summer with you. Not just over the phone, which is bullshit because you hate phone calls anyway."

It's a moment like this where you ponder the real reason you don't want him to see you. The real reason that you refuse to acknowledge because it will never happen.

Only in fairy tales, or movies, or books. Things that happened to Pretty Girls, like the ones Steve talks about sometimes.

"...I'm scared." You whisper, softly. "...I'm really scared, Steve. This…this is going to change my life. I dunno if I'm ready for that." You look out at the water, which glows from the pool lights. "I've been told my whole life how this will fix things. Fix me. Getting this prosthetic, getting my trach taken out. There's gonna be a lot of benefits, yeah, but…I'm angry that I have to do this shit. I'm angry that it's something I just have to grin, and bare because there's no other fucking alternative."

Steve watches you as you talk. His eyes trained on the shape of your lips, the way the sounds are altered, the light of the pool on your face. You look…tired. More tired than anyone your age should be.

"....You know uh…worms?" He snickers a little when you furrow your eyes at him. "They go through that thing, that change thing."

"Metamorphosis."

"Yeah, metamor-whatever."

"Okay, end? Also those are caterpillars."

"Your a worm!"

"Caterpillar."

"Oh my god, shut up-"

You laugh, silent but obvious with the way your shoulders shake and you lean your head back.

"But like yeah, this is you going through your meta-thing. You're gonna be a pretty butterfly or Oh! A Swan. Yeah."

Pausing at his words, you can feel the heat creep up your cheeks. "...Pretty?" You echo, shy and just a little uncertain.

"Well duh. Really pretty." Steve insists, beaming at you. It's a brash, kinda backwards compliment but he's trying. He's really trying, and you aren't sure if you can keep shoving those fluttering feelings away.

-—————-

Those last three weeks of school pass. Steve doesn't get to see you until the first week of Summer, where he bikes all the way to your house. He had called to tell you he was coming, so he doesn't knock when he gets there.

"So, how did it go- Whoa-"

Well, you were not kidding. The implant was obvious. Very obvious, and Steve forced himself not to stare at it. Not that it mattered, since you were already crumbling away from him.

"It's awful, I know-" You gush, devastated. "Feels weird too." Your eyes are red rimmed from crying and Steve stands there awkwardly. Fuck, he was not good with crying.

"No! It's…Its not that bad. I just had a hard time picturing what it looked like when you told me." He explains, the words spilling from him. It was the truth, he really didn't know what to expect. "It's not bad, I swear on my collection of baseball cards, it's not!"

You narrow your eyes at him. "...Even the signed ones?"

"Yeah."

Your shoulders slowly relax and you rub at your eyes. You were always good at coming back from crying. Steve, well, he wishes he could bounce back that fast.

"..Wanna watch a movie?" He suggests, already heading into the living room. "Any one you want!"

-----

After that, the weeks passed and you slowly grew bored of keeping yourself locked away like some princess, or troll. You slowly started joining your mother on her errands. The implant grew and grew, but after a while you got used to it. Steve barely glanced at it anymore, instead focused on spending the summer with you, whenever you had the chance.

You do end up hanging out with him during lifeguard duties. He jokes about having you as his assistant whenever you bring him water or snacks, but you always retaliate with squirting at his hair with a water gun.

It's not all perfect. You do get stares. People sometimes avoid you, and kids your age are cruel, but Steve is there. He's getting popular, and with whatever grade school cred he has, he makes sure to use some of it to protect you.

It all shifts when the surgery finally arrives. You and Steve are sitting out by his pool again, now a month and a half older. "...I'm gonna miss you, at camp." He states, taking a sip of another beer.

"...Your still going??" You raise an eyebrow at him. "Why?"

"Because I like it? Besides, I'm thinking about being a counselor. Why do you sound so surprised?"

"Well, I…I mean I'm not gonna be there." You state, and the words sound ridiculous as soon as you let them out. Steve laughs and you shove at him. "I'm gonna miss you, sure, but I still wanna go! I need to defend my swimming record, and I already have what I'm gonna wear for theme night! Wouldn't you still go if I couldn't?"

The way he says it, it sounds like the answer should be obvious. The camp was for people like you, after all.

He says your name after a moment, confused. "...Wouldn't you?"

"...I dunno." You admit after a moment, breathing in slowly. "....It's kinda fun, but sometimes I hate the atmosphere. I hate the way the counselors talk to me at times, like I'm stupid. I don't feel like…I'm disabled enough to warrant even being there. Hanging out with you, it actually makes me enjoy it. It feels like an actual camp."

Steve doesn't say anything for a while. You watch the way his brows furrow, and the contemplative frown on his lips. "...Does that mean…last year was your last year?"

You ponder it before shaking your head. "...I want to go with you." You shrug, picking at a loose thread on your swim suit. "If you become a counselor, then I will too! Like hell am I gonna let you boss me around even more."

He laughs, loud and clear. You're jealous, and awed all at the same time. "But I will probably stop one day, I think."

Steve nods, and you wonder if the sadness in his eyes is just a trick of the light.

----

The next morning, you go in for early surgery. Steve is antsy the whole day, though he isn't sure why. You were a pro at this! He's heard countless stories about your various surgeries, so why does this one feel so…great? Monumental?

He doesn't get to come see you until the next day. He walks in, holding a bouquet of flowers and a plush of your favorite animal. He hopes he doesn't look as tired as he feels. He woke up early at 6 AM, zoning out to Twilight Zone reruns until 8, where he stumbled around to get ready to see you again. It hadn't been that long ago, but it felt like maybe you had gone three months without seeing each other.

As he makes his way over to your room, he's reminded of an episode he watched. A hospital themed one. It kind of confused him, really. The woman got surgery to be beautiful, but it failed.

Steve turns a corner, and passes a plastic surgery office where he can hear the distant sounds of a meeting.

He remembers watching the bandages being removed, and thinking he heard them wrong. The woman was beautiful. The surgery was a success and yet…the hospital staff had recoiled. He had been blown away by the revelation of what the doctors and nurses looked like, and something in the back of his mind wished you could have seen it with him.

He steps into the hospital room, his eyes landing on you. Your face isn't fully bandaged up, but there's a strip of cloth that keeps your mouth shut. You look as exhausted as he feels. Your eyes slowly open to see him, only to become slightly panicked.

"Hey." He greets, slowly walking closer and settling down in the plastic chair beside your bed. You don't say anything, you can't, but Steve does. "Y'know, I'm kinda confused." He admits, gently placing the tiny stuffed toy on your bed. “I don’t think the doctors did much.” You make a noise of confusion, gesturing at the bandage on your face. Obviously they did, what was he even getting at here?

"No, really. Like sure, the balloon thing is gone, but you look the same to me, Miss Butterfly." He admits, leaning on his arms and gazing up at you. Watching as the words slowly register. You slowly smile, eyes shining with tears before you wince and grab at your notepad.

'Stop making me smile, my face hurts like a bitch. >:('

He laughs, shaking his head and reaching over to grab the remote for the TV. "I'll ask the nurse for more drugs, maybe you'll be a little nicer to me." He grins, and flips through the channels. "But hey, there's this episode I want you to see.."

Midway through the re-runs, you fall asleep. The drugs and the pain dragging you under. Steve sits there, his hand in yours. He eyes the IV, his thumb brushing against the bandage keeping it inside. His gaze travels up your arm, and lands on your face. Your expression wasn’t exactly peaceful, but he was glad you were resting.

“I was scared this morning.” He admits, emboldened by the silence. “I know you’re like, super good at all of this, but…yeah.” He trails off, letting his eyes slowly drift closed. “You do look really pretty. In your hospital bed, or..anywhere really. You always have.”

[nouklea]

Just a scene...

English is not my native language, so this text will probably hurt the eyes of many of you with bad grammar and verb tenses mistakes... But I just had to try to write it down.  It's just a scene, I don't know exactly how to get there and what happens after.  And I have no idea how AO3 works so I'm just going to post it here.  Hope you enjoy. (And hope I'm tagging it right!)

General plot line :  The group found a way to neutralize the hyde in Tyler, but they know it won't last.  While they look for a permanent solution, Tyler is locked down in a cell they discovered in Nevermore's basement.

Right before the scene : Xavier shows up in the prison and threatens to kill Tyler.

-------

Tyler eared a gasp, and his eyes flickered from Xavier for a second.  Enid was standing on the doorstep, eyes wide, mouth open.  Color left her cheeks as she understood what was happening.

"Enid, get out of here!" he urged.

How far would Xavier go?  Would the jerk kill him in front of her?  Would he arm her?  That was bad...

"Xavier, what the hell?" was her answer.  She seemed to work to control her tone, keeping it light, but it sounded a little off.

"What does it look like?"  Xavier's voice was a snarl.  "Someone should have kill that piece of shit a long time ago!"

"Get out, Enid.  Please go!"  Tyler whispered, but the girl paid no attention to him as she took a step forward.

"Xav, please don't.  You're not a murderer..."

Her words were meant to calm him, but his anger seem to explode.

"You're right!  I'M NOT!" he yelled.  "Ironic, isn't it?  Seems like it's the only way to get some consideration around here, though!  This sucker killed Rowan, sent Eugene to the hospital, almost got you too, and here you are, babysitting him as if he was your little wonder.  We don't want to make little hyde unhappy, right?"

Tyler's throat felt tighter.  Xavier wasn't wrong...

Something suddenly shifted in Xavier's posture.  He was staring past Enid in disbelief, straightening himself.  Tyler's eyes followed his, and he caught his breath.

Wednesday was standing still by the doorstep.  Too still.  Her dark eyes were locked on Xavier, filled with cold fury.  She was holding a fireman's axe, classic wood handle and red blade, and later Tyler would wonder if it was hers or if she had grabbed it from an emergency kit hanging here and there in the halls.  For now, all he could proceed what how breathtaking she was.

When she spoke, Wednesday's voice was cold and sharp.

"Drop the bow right now, or you will lose a hand."

A memory rose in Tyler's mind.  The Rave'N.  Wednesday telling him she would have taken his prank much farther.  I'd do it again, had she said about those piranhas in her old school's swimming pool.  His mouth went dry.  She was an avenger.  That was bad... and also a little arousing, he had to admit.  I knew there was a reason I liked you...

Xavier made the mistake of shrugging carelessly, an ironic smile forming on his lips.  His face turned white a second later when Wednesday started to walk towards him with an angry determination.  He took a step back, then a second one, and realized she was serious.  He threw the bow on the floor and raised his hands as to calm her.

That did not stop her.  She was on the hunt.

His third step back was shaky and he felt on the floor.

"Shit!  Don't, please!" he yelled, trying to protect his head with his arms.

Tyler's heart seemed to stop as Wednesday raised the axe and snapped.  Enid screamed.  A loud unexpected sound resonated in the room and Xavier was suddenly still.

Time seemed to be suspended for a second.  And then Xavier lower his arms and looked up.

The axe had broken through the wooden floor, hard enough that it now stood by itself.  The bow was shattered, its pieces spread in the room.  Half crouched, Wednesday was staring at him, a carnal smile turning her face into something wild.

"Go away." was all she said.

Xavier was petrified, a deer facing the lights of a car...

"You're mad..." he whispered.

Wednesday stood up and towered him, her smile gone.  Her voice was ice.

"I said GO AWAY!  Now!"

Xavier seemed to wake from a nightmare.  He managed to raise and hurried past her.  Tyler noticed she turned slightly, never letting him out of her sight.  He had reach Enid when he stopped.

"You're a psychopath!" he spat, his voice a pitch to high.

"Thank you." was Wednesday's reply as he burst out of the room.

The prison went silent, as time stood still.

Then, slowly, Wednesday turned her head and looked at him, her face giving nothing.  Her eyes traveled along his body and back to his face, scanning him, looking for injuries.  He almost blushed.

Talk to me, Tyler pleaded in his head.  But the girl remained silent has they stared at each other.  Tyler was about to say something, anything, when she suddenly turned back and walked to Enid.

She acknowledged Thing first.  Tyler had not realized the hand had even  been in the room.  Wednesday crouched beside him and nodded, answering a silent question that Tyler did not understood.  Thing swiftly disappeared out of the room.  Wednesday watched him leave, then stood by Enid.

"Are you all right?" she asked, her tone almost gentle.  Almost.

Enid shivered.

"Yeah, I'm good." she answered with a shaky voice.

"Can you handle him alone, or do you need Ajax to come down here?"

She was doing everything in her power to stay as far as she could from him. Tyler already knew that, but still felt those words like a slap in the face. 

"I'm fine."  Enid's voice was almost back to normal, color returning to her cheeks.  Wednesday nodded and left without looking back at him.

The blond girl shivered and shook her head, before faking a smile.  She walked by his cell.

"Whoa!  That was intense!" were the first words she spoke to him.

Intense?  It was a sweet way to call what had just happened...

Enid started to hand him some packages through the bars.  He could feel she was recovering quickly, moving more confidently.

"Here you go!  Turkey sandwich, some fries, a coke and an apple.  Oh and I added a few chocolate cookies I baked this morning.  Sounds good?"

"Thanks", mumbled Tyler while taking his first bite.  Homemade cookies?  How long has it been since he ate his last homemade cookie?  Years.  Many years...  He felt a sudden emotion.  Enid was a good person.

Xavier's voice erupted in his mind.  You babysit him as if he was your little wonder.  We don't want to make little hyde unhappy, right?  The sandwich suddenly tasted wrong in his mouth.  Homemade cookies?  The damn jerk was right...

Unaware of Tyler's mood, Enid was back to chatting.

"Lucky for us... well mostly, lucky for you... that Thing was on the watch.  At least Xavier should keep his distances for a while.  He's stubborn, but if he doesn't let go now, then there is no hope for him.  Poor guy is usually nice, but damn, he's so obsesses with Wednesday..."

That last sentence took Tyler out of his sulking.  Enid caught his curious glance and seemed happy to go on.

"Well, you know...  After you left, Xavier was hoping Wednesday would finally fall for him.  It didn't happened.  And now you're back, and he can see how much she cares about you, and he's so jealous he's going nuts."

Jealous?  Anger burst through Tyler's mind.  His answer came out bitter.

"Yeah, who wouldn't want to take my place.  A monster responsible for the fall of his own mother, who was triggered and mastered by a psychopath, who can turn wild at any moment and attack anyone, even those he loves...  The damn asshole has no idea..."

He shook his head and went on.

"And Wednesday doesn't give a shit about me.  She has her own agenda and I'm just a tool."

Enid looked genuinely offended, almost angry.

"Oh come on, Tyler Galpin!  The girl is in love with you!"

Words had burst out of her mouth.  She made a sheepish face, as if she had said too much.  Tyler froze.  Her sentence was simple, but absurd...

"You're out of your mind." he answered blankly.  "She knows what I am, she knows what I've done.  She would never..."

Glancing at Enid, he suddenly felt like a kindergarten whose teacher was about to explain why it wasn't kind not to share that blue dinosaur...  Enid had a gentle smile on the lips, and spoke with a calm and soft voice.

"Sweetie, we're talking about Wednesday Addams here.  Do you really think that being a hyde, and a killer, would turn her down?  Haven't you seen how lethal she just went to protect you?  She's crazy about you, silly boy!"

Confusion washed over him as he proceeded her words.  It made no sense.  Wednesday hated him.  There was no way for her to have any other kind of feelings.  Or was it?  The boy's eyes flickered to the axe and what remained of Xavier's bow.  She had been so wild, and violent... and dazzling...  He tried to smash the seed of hope that was subtly taking roots in his head.  He could not allow it.

"She has not said a single word to me since she locked me up.  She sends you instead of coming here.  She can't stand to be in the room if I'm there..."

Enid sighted.

"You know her, she struggles with her feelings.  Nothing new about that.  But let me tell you something.  You can't know what's going on because you've been stuck in here for a while, and honestly I'm not exactly sure what she's up to since she doesn't exactly shares her plans... But Wednesday is literally unleashing hell out there, and she's doing it for you."

Enid had spoken fervently, and Tyler had no doubt that the girl truly believed what she had said.  Was it real, though, or just a fantasy of her? 

He did not replied, and Enid went silent, as if she understood he needed a moment.  She let him eat his lunch without a comment, and he felt grateful for that.  It was too much to take.  Between his own feelings and the pain he felt, he could not accept Enid's words.

The girl is in love with you.

She doesn't care if you are a monster.

She's unleashing hell for you.

Those statements felt like sharp blades breaking through the walls he was desperately trying to built around his fears.  He knew how he felt about Wednesday.  His mind constantly focused on her.  His body reacted every time he was near her.  Hell, even her dark eyes appeared in his dreams.  He had come to accept the fact that whatever they had shared was now gone and would never rise again.  He cursed Laurel Gates every night for that, and for everything else she had ruined in his life.  However, Enid's convictions had shaken him, and he felt like he was about to jump in a dark hole, not knowing how deep it was or what would wait for him down there.

He was done eating now, and Enid collected the trash.

"Do you need anything else?  Books maybe?" she asked.

We don't want to make the little hyde unhappy, right?

He hesitated.  Enid seemed honestly eager to help him.  Avoiding her gaze, he jumped.

"Do you think...  Could you...  If I wrote something, would you give it to her?"

Enid's eyes went wide as a grin enlighten her face.  She was delighted! 

"A letter?  This is SO romantic!  Of course I'll give it to her!"

She was clapping her hands like a kid on Christmas's morning, and Tyler wondered if he had made a mistake.  But it was too late, the damage was done...  He watch as she took her phone.

"Hey babe!  You're busy?  Ok cool!  Would you be sweet and bring me a pile of papers and a pen?  No, not to my room, down here...  Oh! And an envelope too!  Thanks honey!  Love you!  Hang up!  No you do it!  Love you too!  Hang up!"

Tyler managed to shut her voice out of his mind.  Enid was the kindest person he knew, and without a doubt the most optimistic, but in time like these he felt exhausted by her joy of living.  He almost felt dizzy. 

She finally hung up the phone, or had he?, and turn to him.

"Ajax is bringing everything you'll need.  So look, you spend your afternoon writing, and I'll take your letter upstairs when I'll bring you dinner.  Sounds good?"

She had taken full control of the situation, he realized.  There was no way he could back off now, she would harass him until he wrote that damn letter.  He sight.  It's not like he had something better to do, anyway...

"Sounds good.  Thanks."  he mumbled.

Ajax showed up a few minutes later.  His first move was to kiss Enid with an enthusiasm that made Tyler want to be elsewhere...  Then he handed the material, and the happy couple left, locking the prison's door behind them. 

At last. 

Tyler need the silence to clear his thoughts.  Too much had happened in the last hour, too much had been said, and he had felt too many conflicted emotions.  Fear of dying.  Relief of dying.  Terror for Enid.  Stupor and amazement and other feelings he should not allow himself to feel when it came to Wednesday.  Hope for an acknowledgement.  Pain from her silence.  And at last his world turning upside down with Enid's revelations.  He was exhausted. 

Gazing at the white sheets, he wondered if he could do it.  Find the proper words to reach her.

[valentinsylve]

Tagged by the beautiful and many-faceted @feudusang :)

favourite colour(s): I love blue, all the blue! Especially swimming pool or cobalt.

favourite flavour(s): strawberry, mango, coffee, pistachio.

favourite genre(s): I like blends, for example horror/mystery (ex: Death Is a Lonely Business by Ray Bradbury). I enjoy comedies that are smart/silly like What About Bob. I'm also into documentaries. I'll try a lot of stuff but will hit da bricks immediately if it sucks. I unironically enjoyed Dude Where's My Car but turned off Hot Tub Time Machine 5 minutes in.

 favourite music : Old School goth, funk, r&b, expansive choral music, auteurs like Joni Mitchell & Leonard Cohen, 60s and early 70s psychedelia, atmospheric noise, New wave, French pop music from the 20s on, gay dancey stuff, Grace Jones (who covers a lot of genres), Guided by Voices, Swans, Bongwater, also the song "Mississippi Queen" by Mountain whips ass. Some of my favorite live shows and albums have been by my IRL friends as well. I am a volunteer radio dj and music is a big deal in my life.

favourite movie(s): I love Fassbinder a lot. My next big DVD purchase will be his Berlin trilogy. My sister actually got me Berlin Alexanderplatz for Christmas one year because she is the best. It's hard to say a favorite movie of all time but Lola is up there. Non-Fassbinder, i just saw Fire of Love and it blew my ass away.

last song: "Welcome to the Pleasuredome" by Frankie Goes to Hollywood.

last movie: I just watched My Scientology Movie, and I found it interesting at first, but about halfway in I became pretty sure that I never want to be anywhere near Louis Theroux and that he would be useful against one's enemies.

currently reading: The Gods of the Greeks by Carl Kerenyi, and Labyrinths of Reason by William Poundstone. Slowly. Also a bunch of Hannibal fic because of course.

currently watching: Abbott Elementary and M*A*S*H*.

currently working on: aghhh my creative brain passed out for a month, but I have a couple fics in progress. I'll always be happy to talk about them.

Thank you for this!

Tagging @divinecruelty @bedeliainwonderland @celta-diabolica and anyone else who'd like to play :)