#and how this little girl gets mistaken by a grown man a lot

[eelektrossfan]

So obviously your girl Edward au is fullmetal alchemist sisterhood I take it? /j

Yeah technically! it depends in which version i want to focus on, right now it's 2003 and the genderbent is mostly only on the Elrics and how they navigate their environment

Basically i rotate them in my mind, also it's probably definitely bc i haven't watched BH since 2022

[starlightsuffered]

I’m Not Gay

Info - queer fic, slight homophobia, first gay experience, slight dub con, anal sex, British reader, trying not to cum, stepbrothers, drinking alcohol, compulsive heterosexuality, licking up cum, sharing cum in kiss

We hadn’t hit it off right away, but neither had we hated one another. It was just facts that we weren’t truly family. I was willing to be kind to him, but I wasn’t about to tell him my deepest secrets and pretend we’d grown up together.

Lee was sweet, and seemed to be coping with our new situation well. We weren’t even a year apart in age. I supposed this helped, but we wouldn’t have ever been mistaken for twins.

Despite how odd it felt for our parents to have fallen into a whirl wind romance and to have a new stepbrother, something about Lee intrigued me. When he brushed past me, my skin tingled. When he laughed I felt my heart do flips. I’d even had some….. odd dreams about him which had made me wake up very confused and light headed.

It was our parents’ first weekend away from the house. I’d expected him to immediately call over some mates for a party. He was wiry, good looking, and undoubtedly popular. I’d retreated to my room to read. To my surprise he’d come in unannounced, said he’d gotten some liquor and we needed to do some bonding.

I was now sitting awkwardly in my olive green shirt and black boxers. My cheeks were red because Lee wore no shirt, just sitting in his pants. He said there was no way he was wearing unnecessary items of clothing in the heat wave.

I would’ve done the same if I felt comfortable in my body. I had let my gaze fall to his abdomen several times during this little get together. However, what I felt was somehow more than envy. I couldn’t place these odd feelings, and I squirmed in my seat.

“Truth or drink,” Lee said lightly, handing me some booze.

“Well I hold my liquor well, and I don’t really like to talk about myself-“

“You hold your liquor well, see, didn’t even have to bargain for that piece of information,” Lee said smugly. He winked at me and I was on fire. I let out a huff of irritation.

“I’m a Brit mate, of course I do,” I shot back. I wasn’t sure if I liked how easily he disarmed me.

“You’re a big sports guy? Rugby, I assume,” I said quickly, so he couldn’t be the first to pose a question.

“Not really my darkest secret,” he chuckled. “It was dancing when I was younger, soccer. I’ve never played rugby.”

“So, how about you? Do you like sports?” He asked.

“Do I look like I play sports?” I grumbled.

“You do that a lot you know,” Lee said casually.

“Do what?”

“Self deprecate,” he shrugged.

“Yeah well I’m-“

“British, I know, but you could give yourself a bit more credit,” Lee added.

We went back and forth trading information. He seemed sweet and I was surprised he was giving me the time of day. I had to take a couple shots but he hadn’t asked me anything too crazy.

“First time with a guy?” He asked with a smirk.

“Never,” I shrugged. I was used to people thinking I was gay.

“You don’t need to lie, you could’ve just drank,” Lee chuckled.

“I don’t need to. I’ve never been with a guy. I’m straight,” I ended my announcement with a shrug.

“No way,” Lee shook his head. He was in awe apparently.

“I like girls,” I insisted.

“And boys,” Lee continued.

“No!” I said, feeling a blush creep onto my face. Why did this man insisting I liked boys make me feel so odd? Something was stirring inside me and I didn’t know what to make of it.

“You’re tell me you don’t think about cock?” Lee teased.

“No, I don’t,” I shot back.

“And what one would feel like in your tight hole.”

“Stop it!” I actually stood up in anger. It wasn’t all anger though. There was some other underlying feeling that I couldn’t place.

Lee stood too. He wasn’t a tall man but he towered over me. Fuck, he smelled good and he was very close to me.

“Then let me fuck you,” he said. I nearly fell back on my ass in shock.

“What?” I demanded.

“I bet I can make you cum,” he chuckled.

“That’s a horrible idea!” My voice was getting higher pitched by the second.

“Why?”

“For one, we’re step brothers,” I exclaimed exasperatedly. I threw my hands up, hoping he’d drop this.

“We’re not blood related and we weren’t raised together or anything,” Lee rolled his eyes.

“Why do you even care about this?” I snapped.

“It’s a challenge,” he said with a growing smirk. “I’ve never not been able to make someone cum. How’s this, if I can, you have to do my laundry for a month.”

“Is this the Disney channel?” I asked.

“I don’t think step brothers do this on that show,” he winked.

“It’s not like you’d get it anyway,” I spat. “I won’t cum because I don’t like men.”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem should it?” Lee challenged.

“I guess not,” I hedged, unsure why I was even giving this any sort of chance.

Before I knew it Lee had lube in his hand, and was taking off his clothes. I felt a bit self conscious and opted to keep my shirt on. He said it didn’t matter, I’d cum shirt on or off. He was one cheeky bastard.

He was tanned and ripped to the gods. His curls fell in front of his face. His dick was uncut and thick. I noticed the maroon tip was already glossy. Without even thinking I licked my lips.

“How do you, I mean what do I…..” I trailed off as I looked at him. I hated to say my own cock twitched. I prayed Lee hadn’t seen.

“What do you mean?” Lee asked, hands on his hips. This only served to show off his body better.

“Like what position…” I mumbled.

“As if you haven’t thought about exactly how you’d like a man to take your hole,” Lee said rolling his eyes.

“For the last time! I am not Ga-“

He crashed his lips to mine. I expected all hard angles, nothing like a women. Instead he was warm and surprisingly soft. His hands went to my hips automatically. He was so confident in this, while my cheeks burned like an inferno.

“I-“

I couldn’t get the word out because I didn’t know what I’d been about to say. I felt like I needed to protest again. I wanted to let him know I wasn’t enjoying this. The truth was, I was, immensely. All the heat was exciting and enthralling.

“Y/n,” he moaned to my utter surprise. His dick was poking my stomach. I wanted to let out a noise but I wasn’t gay. I wasn’t even bi. This was so dumb.

He was unabashed with his own sounds. Low groans sounded in his chest that I was flush against. Slowly his hands moved south. He gripped my ample ass. I sucked in a breath. I felt like every sound I made an admittance of defeat. I wanted to win something in my life, even if it was a fight against my own sexuality.

A finger pressed firmly against my hole. I panted once. He moved his hand away and I missed it immediately. He broke our kiss to suck a digit. His brown eyes did not leave mine. My cock twitched. I felt weak in my knees. I didn’t dare fall to them, that would insinuate that I wanted to suck that big, thick, veiny- NO.

Soon, the wet digit was entering my hole. He worked the tightness open. He was getting so far in on his first try. He must’ve been with a lot of virgin men before. Fuck, why did that turn me on?

“You like that?” He breathed.

“It’s fine,” I choked out. I felt like I was on the brink of something. He was being too nice. I was waiting for the mocking and teasing. I was prepped for the merciless goading, but he seemed to be enjoying taking the virginity of a little straight boy.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

“I don’t, fffuck, have to listen to you,” I gasped. He rolled his eyes and picked me up. He gave an exasperated huff as he tossed me onto the couch. I didn’t know what overcame me as I automatically spread my legs. It felt natural and right.

“Take off your shirt,” he said as he knelt in the opening of my thighs.

“Why?” I asked. I was feeling self conscious about my body as I looked at his.

“Because you’re gonna cum all over your nice shirt if you don’t take it off. I’d like it to be on your stomach. Maybe we can share the load then.”

“I’m not going to cum,” I insisted.

“I don’t know why you keep resisting y/n. You’re so small and tight and soft, a perfect little cock sleeve for a man,” he said with an adorable quirk of his head. I felt my whole body turn red.

“See I knew you’d like that,” he chuckled. Before I could respond he was removing my shirt. I was completely naked in front of him now. As if he couldn’t resist he bent down and kissed my tummy. My happy trail was wet with his saliva. I wanted to close my legs, forget this had ever happened like it’d been a weird dream. I also wanted to cherish every moment.

“Get ready,” he hummed.

“Raw?” I squeaked.

“It’ll feel the best. Don’t worry I’m clean. You can trust your step brother,” he winked.

“Ohhhh,” I groaned. Lee looked beyond pleased. He nudged his uncut magenta coloured head at my hole.

He pushed the veiny length into my now slightly looser hole. Slowly, slowly, he was pressing and I was full. I couldn’t believe how full I was. It was like his dick was spreading through my stomach and bumping against my heart. I had to make a concentrated effort to not let my eyes roll back in my head.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Lee moaned. He braced his strong arms on either side. The first thrust of his hips was pure heaven. They began to piston at a quick rate. His grunts filled my ears. My legs spread involuntarily.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, so ripe and pure, first time getting dick and it belongs to your own step brother,” he growled.

“I-I, ugggghhh,” I couldn’t breathe. I was in a different world. All I knew was fullness and pleasure.

“Let me touch your dick, please,” he wailed. He was so lost in my hole already. I couldn’t believe I affected him this way. I was begging myself not to enjoy this, not to want it more than anything in the world at this moment.

“N-n-no,” my voice vibrated from the wild thrusts.

“Come on, fuck, come on,” he was pleading with me. He grabbed my ankles and spread my legs farther apart. I couldn’t help it now. A small whine left my parted lips.

“That’s it, I knew you’d like it,” he cooed. He didn’t seem cocky even, just relieved that I was enjoying the pounding.

“Lee!”

“Let me touch it,” he asked again.

“Oh, f-f-fuck, fine,” I cried out. He was beaming now. His large hand wrapped around my cock. He began to yank it furiously. Wetness was pooling and I couldn’t help it one bit. The schlicking sound filled the room and fuck I could feel him throbbing inside me. His hips were still slamming my ass as he went balls deep over and over.

“Damn, bloody hell, you sure this thick piece of meat has never been inside a man?” He asked me.

“Never, because I’m not-“

“Shut, up, just, fucking, shut UP!” He nearly screamed, punctuating each word with a thrust.

“I don’t wanna hear you don’t like cock, because you’re as wet as a fucking whore,” he whispered.

“Lee,” I murmured in shock.

“I’m not playing anymore, I’m going to fucking cum in your ass,” he growled. He was leaning over me now. He forced his lips on mine. I pushed against his chest but he didn’t back off.

“You love it,” he whispered. “You love it.”

It was like an incantation that worked on me. I became more pliable with every repetition. He continued to snap his hips as he kissed me with longing tongue.

“Mmm, fuck, I love this. I’m going to cum,” he groaned.

“Not inside,” I said weakly. It convinced neither of us.

“Yes, inside!” He bellowed. Warm cum began to shoot inside me. It was a feeling I’d never thought I’d enjoy. I wasn’t too full or messy. I was in pure nirvana. Rope after rope of jock spunk was filling me up over and over.

“I, fffffuuu,” I moaned. I couldn’t think, couldn’t focus. I couldn’t string words together. I was cum drunk, and for the first time, I might’ve been far gone enough to admit it.

“That’s it,” he said gently. “Come on y/n. Let go, let go for a man, it’s okay.”

“I c-can’t-“ I felt like I could almost cry but I felt so good.

“No, it’s okay, feel me fuck this load deeper,” he coaxed me. He was still pumping in and out of me. My legs spread even more. I looked down at my quivering cock.

“Please pull out,” I begged as he hit the sweet spot over and over.

“Why?” Lee huffed desperately.

“Pull out,” I whined in the most bratty tone I’d ever used.

“Why?” He demanded of me.

“Because I’m gonna cum, alright? I’m going to fucking CUM!”

“Cum.”

It was the most simple, easy, plain command in the world, but I think I was addicted to him. My body obeyed. I arched upwards. I couldn’t help focusing on the place where his dick was still up my ass. My cock bounced and painted my stomach white. I was whimpering like a fucking slut as I came. I was so, so, so gay.

“See,” Lee said with a huge grin. “I knew I could.”

He dipped down and licked a stripe through the puddle. He lifted his face and kissed me. My own cum swirled around our mouthes. I was unabashed now, moaning and drooling into the kiss. I wrapped my legs around him and my hands dove into his hair. I felt like I could never separate from him now. I wanted my insides to be the shape of his cock.

“Make it a little easier on me next time baby,” he chuckled. As he kissed my cheeks.

“My step brother just came inside my ass,” I moaned.

“Your step brother is going to be doing a lot more to you, trust me on that,” he winked.

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming

[toxicroyjamie]

So like, do you think Girl!Roy has always been super butch ? Did she ever get confused for a man?

YES I think she went from being a little tomboy who always played footie with the boys to being a hardcore butch and never had any desire to do anything differently. The last time she wore a dress was when her mom put her in one as a toddler. What does she usually do with her eyelashes? She leaves them the fuck alone!!!!

I don't know a whole whole lot about women's sports culture, so don't quote me, but from what I've seen and heard, gender nonconformity and non-heterosexual orientations are more common or at least more visible among female athletes than they are among male athletes (there were 98 out LGBT players/coaches at the last wwc, about 1 in 7, compared to literally none at the men's), probably for a number of reasons that I won't claim to understand, so I imagine that (very much unlike canon Roy) she's actually been fairly comfortable with her identity since she went to Sunderland. Like her coaches and teammates growing up were very chill about her not being a "girly girl," because most of them were the same way, and so that + being surrounded by women her whole life kind of lays a foundation for her to be more comfortable as a butch later on. Full lesbian immersion

I think most of the hostility she'd face would be from men and boys + conservative women from outside of the sporting world. Like the little boys she played with in London or went to school with would bully her for the way she dressed/cut her hair, and her mom would always talk to her about how pretty she could be if she "put effort into her appearance," so football almost becomes her safe space from all that shit yk

She'd definitely get mistaken for a man now and then, and it would mostly make her mad (because people are so stupid - short hair = man? You're a grown fucking adult) but maybe also produce a touch of gender euphoria depending on who the person was. If it was a gross old guy she would immediately become homicidal but if it was a hot young woman who called her "sir" and then got flustered correcting herself she'd be all over it

[chiffaust]

Early merry christmas!

🛍 with rei please, thanks :)

DAY 1 — CHRISTMAS PROMPT 🛍️ + rei sakuma

🛍   ─  go christmas shopping together

It seemed unbelievable at first when he said he will be paying for everything. Well, christmas is right around the corner and everything's on sale at this point, but still.

You had reassured him that he shouldn't do such thing for you, but he was persistent. Weirdly persistent, might I say. "It's the only time of the year where I can spoil you rotten," he said.

Well, since he's so persistent on making you spend his money, you will spend his money.

You two went all over the mall, anything you wanted, he brought for you. You still feel bad for spending all of his money like that deep down, but you'd be lying if you said you weren't happy. Everything you've ever wanted, you can get it now!

But it does make you think, being an idol must bring him a fat stack of cash, huh?

And as you both continued on your shopping spree, Rei's attention landed on a rather cute teddy bear—it was just so cute!

"Fufu, don't you think this one looks a lot like Ritsu, dear?" Rei asks, taking a teddy off the shelf and brings it close to his face, blushing at the mere thought of it.

The teddy bear in fact does look like Ritsu, but you could've easily mistaken it for Rei too since it has black fur and red eyes which resembles the siblings by a lot.

"Well, it does look a bit like you too, I think." You replied, chuckling slightly at how giddy he looks.

"Do you think this'll be the perfect christmas gift for our dearest Ritsu? I must say so, it's so cute, just like him!" He gushes, throwing it up to the sky before catching it once again. He's acting more like a little girl than a grown man right now it's quite intertaining.

He soon stopped, hiding the teddy bear from you behind his back as he coughs to his fist; he seems to have calmed down for now.

"I have seem to forgotten that I haven't gifted you anything yet, dear."

"Is this... Not your Christmas gift to me? Well our Christmas gift?"

"Fufu, how cute but no. This is simply not all; as I said, I want to spoil you rotten this year, dear." He intertwined his hands with yours as he spoke.

"Let's check out for now, I have a place I want to go with you next."

You were rather curious on the location he says he wants to take you. You had arising suspicion on some places, but you soon pass all of those places you had in mind so it brings the question once again; just where exactly is he taking you to?

You then find yourself blinded by him, with his hands on your eyes, you couldn't exactly see where is he taking you to.

"W-why're you covering my eyes?!" You ask, in shock.

"Fufu, it wouldn't be fun if you know about it, now would it?"

"Are you taking me to a se–"

Before you could even finish your own sentences, he brought his hands away from your eyes. Now you both stood in front...

... Of an engagement ring store?!

No way...? You look back at Rei, feeling your own cheeks heating up. Does this mean–?!

"Come now, my dear. I want to pick nothing but the finest ring for you." He said, guiding you into the store with a subtle smirk on his face.

[sakurabutterflyart]

(Before you guys COMMENT or JUDGE. Read the end letter to explain the misunderstandings or assumings about Nooshy and gender. Now, prepare to cringe!)

Titibo Tibo Songfic- Nooshy X Johnny

"Ever since elementary grade, they're already noticing.

My gestures are unlady-like 'coz…-"

A little lynx stared at the mirror with discontent, reluctantly wearing the dress.

She was wearing a ballerina's dress with her ballet shoes. Many people in the room "aww" of how adorable she was, cause she was the main character of the dance. She was that good for a little girl, to be a dancer.

But all she wanted was to get this over with. Cause much to her parents dismay, she wanted to quit. So it'll be her final show as a ballerina.

"Mom hurry up, I should be up the stage by now." She whined.

"Aww come on dear, just one more. This will be your last performance after all." Her mom said, who's actually just a white cat with her lynx husband by her side smiling at their daughter.

"Are you sure you're quitting sweetie? This is the best place to be, for girls your age." His dad asked, so sad that his only daughter is not really into it and still just like among her 4 older brothers.

"No I hate it here!" It's because it's too girly and I hated everyone here! The little girl thought, not daring to tell that to her parents cause she doesn't want to be mistaken to be a mean big tomboy. Although, she think she is.

She beautifully dance on stage. Not everyone knowing that this amazing ballet dancer is reluctantly doing it and ready to quit.

Nooshy just doesn't love it, unlike fellow girls her age. It was a dream to be surrounded by lots of dress, accessories and dolls. In her neighborhood's playground. Instead of chinese garter, her toys were trading cards and marbles. She loves everything her brother has, such as hoodies, shoes and even upbeat music that boys would like.

Then always jam with the guys near their place. To street dance and even do some stunts in breakdancing. She loves the way dancing release her wild side, how cool it is that she was able to dance faster in every beat and to look cool doing the hard stunts. It is way better than being a ballerina.

💚🖤💚🖤

When the little kitty is now a grown up lynx and entered high school. She was friends with bi's--curious girls, who also like girls. Instead of makeup kit, she brings a guitar. Cause back then there were no radios in their place but just instruments.Then she always wore long-sleeved T-shirt and faded pants.

The boyish dancer was expected by everyone to end up with a girl as well, until…-

She met the soon-to-be famous singer of the Redshore City, Johnny. Who later become her dance student and her #1 bestfriend.

People were shocked of how her flavor changed. She learned to fix and have her hair rebonded. She shaped her eyebrows at least once a month. She did all that, just to capture her bestfriend's attention. Even she herself don't know what it is that he have, that have her soften suddenly. Who would have thought that it will be a man, who'll capture a wild tiger like her.

Nooshy was in denial in her feelings at first. Then it keeps developing from bestfriend, a crush then to falling in love for real. To the point that she wants him to be for herself and she doesn't want to see him with other girls.

Even if she's boyish, her heart still beats for him.

But to her luck, he felt the same. Johnny invited her out to teach her how to skateboard. Then suddenly, the most gentle guy he knew just kissed her cheek out of nowhere. That one kiss from him, got her hooked and the woman in her is awakened.

She stared at him in disbelief.

"I like you Nooshy…" He responded.

The lynx felt a wave of emotions of confusion, shock… and mostly overwhelming in joy. But she burst into laughter, not believing what just happened. There's no way her crush just asked out someone like her.

"Are you kidding me? You do know what I am? Even if I am guy?" She pointed at herself. Her hair was boy cut, she wears her long jacket and her rip jeans, clearly showing that she did not considered herself to be a girl. Despite the make up she put on and her occasional dresses.

"Of course, Nooshy you have become more special to me. I like you just the way you are or what you will be. I know you're not into guys, but I can't stop thinking about you…" He hesitantly grabbed her hand. "May I go out with you?"

She felt her insides squeal in excitement, hiding it. There was silence between them, then she smiled widely, with a blush on her cheeks. "This is weird mate, but… I like you too. Sure, let's!"

💚🖤💚🖤

Time went on, their relationship keeps on growing stronger. When they went to college that's just when she gave him her sweet "yes" of being his girlfriend. That he have worked for 10 months, of doubts and confusion. Instead of chocolates and typical moves. Johnny avoided those cliche moves, that he captured her something he thinks it's true and that she would like. With his poems and songs, which she called corny. Which he also joked, that it somehow win her over.

Nooshy can't stop thinking about how lucky she is to have him. That it was a miracle, that she learned to wear heels and frequently wearing red dress. But to her comfort, he never wish her to change just to win him over. He accepted her as she is.

Just like a blooming flower, he cared for it with water and the right light of his everyday love. That makes her life sweet

Author's Note/ Disclaimer: (Just like the songwriter said, this DOESN'T apply to all tomboys, lesbians and bisexuals. It's just her story. While I'm not saying Nooshy is a tomboy. I'm honestly not sure, she seems one yet she still has a girly side with her make up and wearing pink. I've also noticed there are just girls who just loves boy stuffs and even loves wearing one. Even my friends or the people I'm surrounded with are like this, so I also based it here.

So this is just freewriting, since no one writes Jooshy fics. I'll write till my love for it runs out like my other ships.)

Song: Titibo-tibo Moira Dela Torre (I'll post the English translation tomorrow)

[microsuedemouse]

you know the character trope - pretty much exclusively used for villains - of the woman who possesses the power to make any and every man around her fall in love (lust) with her, and thus she builds an army of slobbering man-drones to do her bidding? I often seem to have a similar effect, except only on men maybe 20+ years my senior, and instead of inspiring sexual desire I bring out their fatherly affections.

I don’t know exactly why this happens, but it’s been pretty consistent throughout my adult life, and especially obvious when I’m working in retail (and also during my summer at the optometrist’s office). it comes up a lot at the grocery store. I can think of a couple instances of this phenomenon off the top of my head, like the time I quipped to a customer that I had to do something ‘so I don’t get in trouble.’

“Pshh, that doesn’t happen!” said the guy behind him in line, immediately.

“Yeah, I can’t really imagine it,” agreed the man in front of me.

“All she’d have to do is smile and all would be forgiven!”

“Exactly!”

(Both older gentlemen, both being utterly sweet even while joking around. 😭)

Or, as another example - if you’re working in the last hour-ish of the day, you’ll see a lot of the night crew trickling in, and many of them will do a quick shopping run before they clock in, so at cash we get to know their faces. One of the night managers, Mark, is a very pleasant guy around my parents’ age. One evening I was bagging Mark’s groceries while my coworker Colin rung him up, and Mark glanced over and commented how much he liked seeing me when he came in. “Her smile just lights everything right up, eh? Don’t you think?” he asked, looking expectantly at Colin.

Colin, who is nine years my junior and did not know me well enough yet at that point to be 100% smooth playing along, initially just grinned, with a touch of amusement (whether more at Mark or at my own mild floundering at the compliment, I’m still not sure). When he realised Mark was looking for an actual response, he just chuckled, “I’d say so, yeah.” At which point Mark nodded, pleased to be in agreement, and paid for his groceries.

I do not know how I have this effect on people at 28 years old, even taking into account the fact that I’m often mistaken for younger. When I was an adorable (plus smart and polite - killer combo with the grownups) little girl, it made sense that dads loved me. Now? Who knows! I mean, I’ll certainly take it over being hit on, which I’m extremely grateful to say has never happened to me at work. The only flirting I receive is the silly and decidedly harmless kind that comes from grandpa-type men who are, sincerely, just being playful. These interactions aren’t the untoward kind - they’re more reminiscent, to me, of the way my own dad treats my female friends: respectful, fond and sweet, caring. The vibe is like, this man would probably be happy to give me some sound advice and a lift home from the slumber party.

But yeah. I very consistently bring out the fatherly/grandfatherly affection in seemingly any man over the age of 50 or so who has an ounce of paternal kindness in him. And I do so more than many of my female friends or coworkers do. Is it because I look so young? Because I don’t wear makeup and I dress more like a kid than a ~Grown Woman~? It’s true that in my head I’m little more than an overgrown child, but does that energy actually come through - in a positive fashion, no less - to other people (and especially dad types)? Do I just exude some kind of undefinable Beloved (Grand)Daughter vibes?

I don’t actually remember what on earth got me thinking about this tonight, tbh. But I had to get my rambles out, so here you are. This is my weird tiny useless superpower: I attract fatherliness, entirely without meaning to. I feel like there must be a way to leverage this ability, but I’m not sure what it is? Also I’d be a terrible supervillain anyway.

[nicotinzwei]

January

So after no December entry my January was still pretty rough. But I think it’s interesting how comforting and chill my January Favorites are compared to Novembers. Also RIP Angelo Badalamenti whose twin peaks soundtrack I mentioned in the last post.

 Instrument

So after tweeting that I have a feeling a harmonica would really fit my vibe I bought a used one for 5€. (The seller was super cute) My favorite song to play is Piano Man by Billy Joel, which was also the inspiration for me getting one. To be honest I had no idea how harmonicas worked, but after finding out they come in different keys and mine was in B I got the same model in C. And then I fell into a rabbit hole. Because the model  I got is discontinued and has been around for a long time, and both of them have different cases so one of them has to be from before 2004 and could even be a lot older. I’m still on a quest to find out so any harmonica experts please hit me up! (It’s the Hohner Piccolo) Also, I really want to buy one of those holders so I can play freehand.

Music

I have a really hard time listening to new music but I came back to an artist I really liked a few years ago. Weyes Blood isn’t really my typical genre of music, but to me her songs don’t feel like singular pieces but like a big body of work so it’s easier for me to listen to her new stuff, because it feels so familiar. I used to be obsessed with her Album and album Artwork for Titanic Rising. (There is a cool youtube video about the making of.) I even wrote my bachelors thesis about her music video Movies. Her new Album And in the Darkness, Hearts Aglow has stunning visuals and my favorite new song is God Turn Me Into a Flower, because same. But my favorite overall is probably Something To Believe In. (Like last month this is your cue to listen along) 

Game

As a kid I never got into Professor Layton even though I was a nintendo kid and LOVE puzzles. Because it was available on mobile we kind of started with Pandoras Box so I’m missing some of the lore here and have no idea why a grown man is travelling with some kid stranger. But I’ll assume that Luke has not been kidnapped and forced to solve riddles for this older man but is just having a fun time. I really wish instead of talking about work it would be acceptable in real life for people to just give you a fun little riddle immediately after introduding themselves. Maybe I should just start doing that.

Show

Oh god here we go… I became obsessed with Bluey this month. Bluey is supposed to be a kids show about a cartoon dog family, but to me it feels more like a family sitcom that just happenes to be dogs. Where other kids shows thrown in a few jokes for the parents here and there Bluey really seems to be equally aimed at everyone. The situations and characters feel really real because the creators aren’t afraid to give them flaws. Even Bluey herself (She’s a girl) isn’t always the good guy. (Also if you draw human Bluey fanart please don’t giver her long hair, she’s always mistaken for a boy just give her short hair.) My favorite episode is Sleepytime, and IMDB users agree.

Food

This comes with a little disclaimer. I have been vegetarian for 9 years now, mostly because I just never liked the texture of meat and also because I don’t like the meat industry. But last year broke my streak like 3 times and never really regretted it. Because I never ate meat growing up I also never had the typical bacon and eggs breakfast. So one Sunday (while watching Bluey) we made that with coffee (which I also rarely drink) and IT WAS SO GOOD. So I’ll look out for vegan bacon maybe. But I think as long as it’s an exception I can have a big breakfast sometimes, especially when I’m having a hard time. (Also, butter your bread and put it in the oven for 5 minutes before the rest is done)

Thanks for reading and hopefully on to a better February!

[rhynerd]

I didn't quite mind dying alone. I spent my time largely as I had hoped and probably didn't end up being a hassle to too many people, save perhaps the coroner and my parents. When I had awoken here and found the nature of this place, I expected to pass quickly.

It took about 50 years for most of my family to fully pass on. Yet I remained. Some of the people I had met in my daily routine took a little longer. The youngest of them passed on to that truly final place, and I was still there.

I didn't want to bother the beings that watch over this place too much, but I couldn't help but wonder what was going on. Every half-century or so I'd get the nerve to ask one of them. They'd merely tell me that "my name was still spoken of."

There were a few cases where I thought i had heard my name from complete strangers. Time is not something you can easily keep track of, but there's often some folks who continue to celebrate the holidays, sometimes only keeping track of when they are because somebody else just died that day. A few times I would go, if just to listen in or try something new. One of them mentioned a foundation that helped them out while they were growing up. It had a name like mine. Had to have been someone else, right? I didn't make much over the amount I needed to live.

That's what I had thought when I would talk with some of the other people sent to this realm. Mostly it was just a quick "sorry, you must have me mistaken for somebody else," and then I'd leave. Sometimes my curiosity lead to me asking about how it helped them. Most of it was monetary, paying off loans, or providing scholarships. It also helped build a lot of shelters for those in need. I mused to somebody that the person who founded this foundation must have been a kind man. Turns out that the founder was not a man.

Her name was Nissa Bronson. I only met her briefly during a harder day of work. She probably had a dozen other things she could've done, but she stopped to help me. I was just some old man who had done this thing a dozen times before. I never forgot it. When I died, had left a little money in her name as thanks.

Other people knew Nissa's story from there. She lost her family. She lost her home. She drifted away from the city that raised her. By the time I passed and somebody found the girl, she was at her limit. To her, I was a complete stranger. Yet I helped her.

Her luck turned around after that. She found someone else who cared for her. She found fame and fortune too. That fortune was used to start the foundation. With it, she made an effort to help others in the same position she was shorty before my first death. She named it after me.

The foundation's only grown since its founding. I was almost a complete stranger to even those I worked alongside, but now it seems the whole world knows my name. I didn't quite mind dying alone, but I suppose I was less of a hassle than I thought I was. I'll need to think about how I'm going to spend my time here on limbo, as I'm going to have a lot more of it than I expected.

You die two deaths - your physical death and your true death when your name is spoken for the last time. You, a mild-mannered introvert, have been stuck in limbo for centuries waiting for your true death, and finally found out why.

[nanamismoonchild]

bts at the cookout w/black reader (namjoon, yoongi,hoseok, seokjin)

Namjoon: 

“Momma, you seen Namjoon?” 

The two of you had arrived a little late. Regardless, the food still wasn’t done and your mom had forced you to help her. Namjoon had scurried away before she could force him to chop or stir something. 

It was in her good graces that he didn’t bother with cooking anyway. 

But now, the food was done and you wanted to sit by your man while you ate a plate full of lasagna and collard greens. 

“I think I heard Grandma Shirley say she was going to bring him a plate of her  cobbler.”

“Aw lord, she trying to take Joon from me. Why didn’t you stop her?”

“That’s a you problem.”

True enough, when you went outside to look at the grandma and auntie tables, Namjoon was sitting by your Grandma Shirley and Auntie Patricia. From the looks of it, he was caught up in their long going argument of who had the better pie. He didn’t seem to care since he had two pieces of pie in front of him and the ladies were just watching him eat.

Cheater. 

Originally posted by yoonsguk

Seokjin: 

Seokjin had always heard you bragging about [insert your home city ( but we all know Memphis has the best bbq, and I stand by that lol)] barbeque. To him, no one had better bbq than Seoul. But he realized how mistaken he was as he bit into a rib that was damn near falling off the bone. 

The seasonings were making his taste buds dance around his mouth. And the sauce? Spectacular.  He was trying to keep himself from licking his fingers. 

And don’t get him started about the deviled eggs. Or the mac and cheese. Or the, gods help him, potato salad.  Seokjin had dipped the rib into the potato salad 

“I need to marry whoever made this.”

“My auntie  made it. And you’re married to me, fool!”

“Polyamory it is then.”

“No sir. That’s weird.”

“Well, we are getting a divorce then.”

Yoongi:

The tell-tale signs of someone losing a game includes: a chorus of “no’s,” a bunch of grown men slamming down cards/dominoes, a lot of cursing, and laughter.  

You watched as Yoongi put most of your uncles to shame in dominoes. He was collecting dollars like he collected your orgasms. Quickly.  

“Nah we need to switch games. Cuz ain’t no way this nigga is taking my money.”

“Uncle Ben you talked all that shit about being the best player and here you are being a sore loser.”

“You better hush before I tell yo momma to bring out the photo album.”

You promptly hushed. 

Your Uncle Ronnie shook his head as he looked at his dominoes.  “I agree though. Let’s switch to Spades. Ben, you on my team. Y/N and Yoongi on a team. Bert and Rob make a team. Who dealing?”

Yoongi raised his hand and took the cards from your Uncle Ronnie, who was trying to be slick and pocket the money he had thrown on the table. 

You watched as Yoongi cut the deck and shuffled as only a pro card dealer could. His hands moved so fast it gave you whiplash.  

The next thing you knew, you had joined the collective “bruh what the hells” and “noooooos.”

Hoseok:

“Ah shit! Get it get it now. Y/N, ain’t that your man?”

You look to see where your cousin was pointing and sure enough, that was your husband. Throwing it down on the “dance floor.”

Jung Hoseok had been dying to show your folks the moves he had learned from you. And right now, he was showing your younger cousins how to walk it out.  

The first day he had heard the song was from TikTok and, as usual, the dance was butchered by a Tiktoker doing the incorrect dance. When you had found him doing the dance the Tiktoker was doing, you had immediately corrected him. 

And now here he was doing it better than everybody. 

“Does he usually have all this energy girl?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I bet he be tearing that ass up. How you sitting with us right now then?” “Mind yo business.”

[sometimes-men-need-help-too]

Harmful Tropes

Just like women, men have portrayals of them that are rather negative. These are some of the negative tropes that are often seen within the media for men: 

- Bumbling dad. This often goes along with parenting the husband. This is the most infamous example. It’s especially seen in old sitcoms and commercials. This is the kind of dad/husband that is immature, doesn’t really get respect and is often used for comedic purposes. He usually has a smarter, stricter wife so has to be the bad guy when it comes to parenting their kids or be the voice of reason 

- Raised by dudes. This is a guy that is clueless about kids (especially babies or little girls) without the presence of a woman near 

- Parental abandonment

- Overprotective dad. Usually goes overboard in trying to make sure his daughter doesn’t date/talk to a boy/or try to make sure the boy she is seeing is suitable 

- Men can’t keep house. They live in dirt because cleaning is considered unmanly. Goes along with guys are slobs (messy appearance) and lazy husband

- Casanova Wannabe. This guy thinks or tries to make everyone believe he’s a ladies man, but he usually fails 

- All abusers are male

- All men are perverts. This is a creepy guy who can’t keep it in his pants. He’s shallow and doesn’t treat women with respect 

- A man is always eager. This guy always wants sex. Or if sex can’t be used, then it’s kissing. Can also include mistaken for gay if the guy actually doesn’t want sex/to kiss

- All gays are promiscuous. The homosexual version of all men are perverts and a man is always eager, gay guys are always having sex. Guys love sex and since there isn’t a woman in the relationship to deny him, they're always doing it 

- Fan boy. This guy has an ego because he knows a lot about X thing and ends up belittling people. Usually also goes with basement dweller. This guy, a grown adult and stereotypical nerd, is usually lazy or childish or lives with his parents (in the basement), doesn’t have a job (or can’t keep one), can't get any sex and has no skills skills 

- Men are uncultured. Guys love sports but despise things like books or classical music and especially opera 

- Real men hate affection. Guys don’t hug or any of that “chick” stuff. And if it does happen, it’s awkward and brief 

- Real men don’t cry 

- Virgin shaming. Men always want sex so if he hasn’t gotten some yet, it’s weird 

- No guy wants an amazon. This guy doesn’t like his girl to be tougher than him. He’s made to be a fool and the girl is seen in a positive light 

- Deprived homosexual. This is a gay guy who is a predator. He’ll usually go after straight guys and make them uncomfortable by flirting or even outright threats of rape/molestation

- Deprived bisexual.  This guy makes everyone uncomfortable but he doesn’t really care. He wants everyone--and especially sex 

- Complete monster. This is a villain with no redeeming qualities, no sympathetic backstory or anything

Those are just a few of the tropes used for men. You may not necessarily think it’s a big deal because it’s just TV. However, television can reflect real life attitudes. How common is the belief that abusers are male? How common is it to think men always want sex? 

While it’s important for men of all ages to see themselves positively represented, it’s pretty important for boys to see. Now, a young child is probably not going to see some of that, but what about the teenager? He should seen men represented in a way that shows them being more human. Stuff like this only fuels the stereotypes.  

https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/GenderDynamicsIndex

[lotusthewriter]

You keep me searching for a heart of gold

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: T

Relationships: Peter & Tony

Characters: Peter Parker, Howard Stark, Tony Stark, Maria Stark

Summary: Peter is having breakfast when an unexpected visit arrives. AU where Howard and Maria are alive.

Word count: 2.600

AO3 / Fanfiction

A/N: I’ve seen a lot of Peter as Tony’s biological kid meeting Howard and Maria, but never one where Peter isn’t related to Tony yet they’re still close like father and son. I decided to play around with it, then.

Of course, I don’t know how to write Howard (or Maria), so I hope this is good enough.

TRIGGER WARNINGS - past child abuse, alcohol abuse/alcoholism and swearing

DO NOT SHIP PETER AND TONY.

--

It’s a slow day at the Compound.

Peter has stayed the night, and will likely stay a few more days, with May out of town. He knows he’s grown up and wouldn’t have a problem fending off for himself, but he wasn’t against the idea of staying with Tony when they suggested, not when Peter really hates being alone for too long. It’s good that Peter gets to be spoiled by Tony, even if he would never in a million years admit it to anyone.

Tony is probably in a meeting or something like it since Peter arrives at the kitchen with a set breakfast table, and a little sticky note telling him “be back at 12”. It’s around 10 AM right now, so that would take a while.

He yawns dramatically, aware he must look like a mess right now, and he sure is hungry. Peter takes the cereal box and puts some in the bowl, later filling it with milk, all the while looking at his phone. It’s a good thing he doesn’t have school today, as it’s spring break. Ned is throwing a lot of questions at him, knowing Peter is at the Compound, so of course his best friend is excited to know he’s “hanging out with The Tony Stark”. Well, not exactly now, but still true.

Peter is laughing at some memes while chewing on cereal, when his senses detect a presence. He almost assumes it’s Tony, hopefully coming back earlier, but then… he realizes it’s actually two presences, unlike any he knows. He also hears some frantic talking, coming from a woman’s voice.

“… Howard, you can’t just enter like this!”

“I’m his father, I have the right to be here as I want—”

Before Peter can really do anything, the automatic door opens to a senior couple right when he’s chewing a handful of cereal and milk, and the three are staring at one another like they’re in a sitcom and the audience is bursting in laughter. They’re… well, not horrified. The woman is shocked, while the man is… disgusted? Suspicious?

And there’s something about him, too. Something… familiar.

Howard…

WAIT.

The Howard Stark?

Peter almost chokes on the cereal and milk, swallowing it all in one go. Thank goodness he has enhanced metabolism.

“What on earth is this?” Howard looks at this wife – Maria, if Peter isn’t mistaken (after all, he’s read Tony’s biography quite too many times for the average person) –, expecting an answer from her, but she only replies with surprised silence.

“Uh…” Peter clears his throat. “You’re… Mr. Stark’s parents?”

Howard raises an eyebrow. “Who’s asking?”

The teenager stands up and approaches, raising a hand.

“I’m Peter. Parker.”

Howard stares at his hand with distaste, then he’s judging Peter’s appearance up and down. Now the latter feels extremely self-conscious and more embarrassed than ever.

The man doesn’t bother shaking his hand, though Maria does so for him.

“Maria,” she whispers, though not seeming very welcoming of Peter, either.

“So, he refuses to speak to me all these years… I understand now.” Howard shakes his head in disapproval, then he mumbles to his wife, “I told you, one of these days Anthony was going to get a poor girl with a full plate.”

Peter’s cheeks heat up like a stove.

“O-Oh no, no, no, I’m not…”

“What? Speak up, boy.”

“I’m…” Peter looks down, finding his Iron Man socks. “I’m not related to Mr. Stark, sir.”

“Then why are you here, on your pajamas, like this is your house?”

Peter is redder than a tomato, unable to look at Howard in the eye. He almost wants to argue that the Compound isn’t his house, either, but he figures it’s useless to pick up a fight with Tony’s father.

“It’s… complicated?” He replies, aware that explaining to them that he’s a superhero wouldn’t be the best idea.

Maria looks at Howard with confusion and concern, while the man suddenly laughs. Peter almost wishes he stayed in bed.

“I don’t believe this. Is he taking in random kids for charity?” Howard asks, but doesn’t expect an answer, because he just keeps laughing.

“Well, uh… Mr. Stark is busy right now, if you want something until he comes back—”

“Who do you think you are, boy?” Howard is immediately dead serious. “You said yourself you’re not even a Stark. I doubt you’re a special intern.”

Peter gulps. He knew very little about the elder Stark, besides what media tells him, and that time Tony said that his father had never given him support. Peter already suspected Howard wasn’t the best, but he never expected it to be this bad.

He can only imagine what it must’ve been like for Tony growing up.

“I-I said it’s complicated—”

“No one is going to take you seriously mumbling like a little mouse.”

“Listen, just… make yourselves at home, it’s going to take a while for Mr. Stark to be back.”

Howard scoffs. “Make yourselves at home,” he mocks his voice.

“Howard,” Maria scolds.

Peter swallows the urge to scream for Tony to get here as soon as possible, knowing he must be very busy.

“You probably have business with Mr. Stark, so I’ll just… go to my room.”

“Oh, no, come on, Mr. Parker. Enlighten us.”

He doesn’t have to obey him, sure, but this is Tony’s father, and Peter is far from a jerk, even if he wants to. Even if Howard doesn’t deserve any kindness for how he’s acting.

“Actually,” Howard is sitting in one of the chairs while Maria watches, looking down like she’s ashamed, “since you’re being so nice, Mr. Parker, would you care to see what drinks you have in store?”

Peter is stuck in this mess, so he does what he’s told, going quickly with it, too.

“Well, there’s nothing much… only water, coffee…”

Even while not looking, he’s aware Howard is rolling his eyes. “I know Anthony. There must be alcohol somewhere in this place.”

The boy searches in the cabinets, indeed finding a bottle of scotch.

“Ah, there it is,” Howard speaks from afar. “With ice, please.”

Peter tries his hardest not to groan out of his mind, instead taking a few ice cubes and handing the glass to the man. Maria doesn’t sit, only stands on her feet next to her husband. He’s on the other side of where Peter was sitting, and the boy is back with his breakfast. He suddenly doesn’t feel hungry anymore, but he still eats out of politeness.

His once peaceful breakfast is now the most uncomfortable he’s even been stuck in, and he can sense Howard watching his every move. Peter doesn’t dare look up and finishes the bowl of cereal quietly. It’s all mushy now, so it’s not even pleasant anymore, and he feels like throwing up.

“You know, Peter,” Howard says derogatorily, “I’m very curious. If you’re not a Stark or an intern, what’s your relationship with my son?” He doesn’t take his eyes off Peter while he takes the bottle of scotch and fills his glass again.

Peter inhales, not sighing, knowing that wouldn’t be the best reaction. “It’s—”

“Complicated?” Howard mocks him again. “Don’t bullshit me, boy.”

“Howard,” Maria tries again, but she doesn’t go beyond the occasional scold.

“I know Tony, and I know he would never give a flying crap about having a sleep over with a random child.”

Peter’s fists tighten under the table. He’s trying, but then…

“… you’re wrong.”

The tenseness spike up immediately.

“Excuse me?”

The teen finally stares back.

“Mr. Stark is my—” Peter sighs, “He takes care of me, okay? He’s the nicest person I know, the greatest hero, and he- he cares about me.”

Howard’s eyes narrow with hatred.

“You seriously think that Tony Stark would ever go out of his way to take care of a little brat like you?” He scoffs. “I doubt it. He probably pities you.”

Peter’s firmness is gone within the blink of an eye.

“He… He does like me,” he tries, only for Howard to laugh again.

“You’re not even sure about it, are you?”

Sure, he has anxiety, but…

“If you think Anthony would ever want anything to do with you, you could not be more wrong,” Howard is serious again. “You are not his son, you are not worthy of being a Stark, because Stark men are made of iron, and you… are far from it.”

He wants that awful, terrible man to be wrong, but Peter finds himself unable to fight back. Maria doesn’t even try to defend him; she barely acknowledges his presence.

The moment Peter stands up, the door is opening again, and someone is not pleased.

“What the hell are you doing in here?”

That voice… doesn’t bring him safety anymore.

Peter doesn’t even look back.

He runs away.

“Peter-!”

The door is closed, hard.

And… he cries, after holding it for so long.

  “What did you do to him?”

“Really, Anthony, this is low, even for you.”

“Don’t you dare tell me what is low or not.”

“I’m your father, show me some respect.”

Tony grits his teeth, suppressing the urge to invoke his repulsors.

“So, I arrive here, and I find this kid in pajamas who thinks it’s his house, claiming that ‘Mr. Stark’ clearly cares about him.” Howard mocks Peter’s voice, and is about to take another glass of scotch, only for Tony to take the bottle away from him, because he knows what’s about to happen if he keeps drinking. “Do you really expect me to believe you’ve been adopting random kids just to fulfill your pathetic life?”

“You don’t get to say anything about Peter.”

Howard laughs, “Oh, so it’s true. You do care about him.” He spits on the floor. “You’ve become soft, Anthony. I wonder who taught you.”

“Certainly not you.”

“Of course. I would never let my son adopt some sissy.”

Tony inhales like his head is on fire, letting out smoke like in an old cartoon.

“You have three seconds to get your sorry ass out of here before I call security.”

“Oh, so soon?”

“Don’t fucking test me, Howard.”

The old man rolls his eyes dramatically and raises his hands like Tony is pointing a gun at him. Of course, like the “victim” he claims to be.

“Alright, fine. Go be with your precious little Peter. So much for wasted time.”

Tony glares at Howard standing up, Maria following him. She only glances at her son without saying a word. It’s been this way for as long as he remembers that Tony is barely fazed by it.

The two finally leave the kitchen.

“FRI, make sure they’re out of here as quickly as possible,” Tony orders.

“Got it, Boss.”

He groans out loud. The meeting was already a pain in the ass, when he suddenly learned that his sorry excuse of a father was in the building it almost gave him a heart attack. It was especially worse when he learned he was in the same room as Peter. God, he almost wants Howard to be here just to punch him in the face.

Well, there’s no time for that. His kid needs him.

Tony makes his way to the dark corridor, walking up to the closed door in the back. He knocks on it a couple times.

“Peter?”

There’s no answer.

“Peter, I’m coming in.”

Thankfully, the door isn’t locked. Tony is slow with it, not wanting to scare off the kid.

Peter is lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. He has headphones covering his ears, and although it’s mostly dark, Tony can tell he’s been crying. His heart breaks hearing the weak sniff coming from the boy.

Tony presses his fingers against his tired eyes, trying to suppress the anger at Howard so he can help Peter. Then, he takes a few gentle steps towards the bed and sits on the corner. Peter refuses to look at him. He’s not sure if he’s even listening.

That way, the man reaches for his hand, squeezing it carefully, but ready to stop if Peter doesn’t want it. The kid doesn’t reject the contact. If anything, he seems to relax, sinking in his bed.

For once, Peter takes off his headphones, but he doesn’t say anything.

“… He’s gone, okay?” Tony reassures him. “I’ll make sure he never gets in here again.”

The kid doesn’t open his mouth. Tony sighs, like he’s been carrying the weight of the world.

“Oh, Pete… what did he do to you?”

Peter sniffs, “N-Nothing, Mr. Stark.”

Tony doesn’t get mad at the lie. He can’t blame the kid.

“Peter… please, look at me.”

Like he’s afraid – afraid of Tony –, Peter is hesitant, but he complies. It hurts Tony just to imagine him ever being scared of him.

“Talk to me, kiddo,” the hero begs. “He hurt you. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen ever again, but you’ve got to tell me what he did.”

Peter dries his tears with his sleeve, the MIT hoodie Tony lent to him.

“H-He…” the kid sobs. “He said I’m not…”

Tony doesn’t let go of his hand, caressing it with his thumb. The more they stare at one another, Peter’s lips quiver.

“H-He said I’m not your son.”

Oh.

At his stunned silence, Peter cries harder.

“Peter—”

“I mean, I-I get it, he’s right, I’m not your son, I’m not even a Stark, I’m just some- some brat—”

“No, no, nononono. Kid. Peter. Listen to me.”

“I-It’s okay, Mr. Stark, I get it—”

“Shh… Shhhh…”

Tony is wrapping his arms around Peter, and even though the latter tries to deflect, he ultimately lets it.

“You’re not a brat. You’re my kid,” the man tells him. “You are my son.”

“But I’m not a—”

“You don’t have to be a Stark to be my son. If anything, I’m glad you aren’t a Stark. You’re even better, you’re Peter Benjamin Parker, and you’re the most wonderful kid the world has ever known.”

Peter is hiding in Tony’s chest, shyly clinging to him.

“Y-You don’t… pity me?” The kid asks.

“Of course not, kiddo. I love you.”

He immediately faces puppy eyes staring deep into his soul.

“Really?”

“Kid, I could never lie to you, even if I tried.” Tony is pushing that one rebellious hair strand out of Peter’s face. He’s so adorable, he wants to squish him. “Why do you think I like pampering you so much?”

He can tell Peter is blushing. “I dunno.”

Tony laughs, but he’s soon guilty.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” he squeezes Peter like he’s going to get hurt if he lets go. “If I’d known…”

“It’s okay, Tony. He just came barging in where he’s not welcome.”

“Yeah. God, I want to kick his ass.”

“Oh, me too.”

Peter has finally stopped crying and has pretty much melted in the hug. They stay like this for a little longer, when Tony has an idea.

“… how about we get you some nice breakfast, hm?” He suggests.

Peter snorts, “At this point it’s gonna be brunch.”

“Still, you’d better eat more than just cereal. You know, with your spider metabolism.”

“Okay, can’t argue with that.”

Tony pats his back and finally lets go, and they get ready for another adventure. The scotch and pain and resentment are left behind, and the two are going to town, ordering any breakfast Peter could possibly want.

He’s glad he’s able to break the cycle of shame. He’ll forever let Peter know how much he loves him, and hopefully, convince himself that he’s loved, too.

[ladyartemesia]

Since I'm in love with your writings and your taste in reading too. I know that your favorite is Brother's best friend or Best friend's brother, I would like for you to recommend me some of them please ❤️❤️🙏

꧁Brother’s Best Friend꧂

Clandestine by @junghelioseok is fantastic. Jeon Jungkook is the best friend of the reader’s slightly younger brother. He’s sexy and charismatic and DEFINITELY knows what he wants. The growth of his (clandestine) connection with the reader is utterly delicious. This one made me laugh and swoon.

Guarded by @xjoonchildx is basically legendary in my book. The lady in this story is not only Hoseok’s best friend’s sister—she is also his BOSS’s sister and by boss I mean mafia. This is the first installment in Ana’s amazing Rap Line Mafia Universe and it delivers on every level. Hoseok is tasked with protecting the boss’s sister after she is being threatened by sinister forces unknown and sparks fly.

Plums and Melons by @winetae is THAT FIC. The fic I just daydream about sometimes. It’s a fic about two people caught hard in eachother’s gravity. It’s so sexy and cerebral and the main characters are so hot. Jimin is just a guy trying to live his life, but whatever is brewing between him and his best friend’s sister is driving him insane. He wants to be a good guy, but she just isn’t playing fair.

Are You Sure? by @cutechim is such a swoon-worthy and touching piece of wonderful. I tell you I was MOVED. This is beautiful and emotional and EXTREMELY satisfying. Taehyung’s best friend has a sister who he has always secretly adored. When she comes to him and asks for some intimate experience, he isn’t strong enough to say no—not when she’s everything he ever wanted.

Drivers License and Detour by @gyukult is sweet and tender and just a fantastic coming of age story. The reader has been in love with her brother’s best friend, Park Jimin, for almost all of her youth... but what is going on in his head?It’s a tender story that really warms the heart. AND I am happy there is more coming. I would read about these two all day. She published the second part and oh my gosh it’s so incredibly perfect I could scream. This was just such a beautiful journey every step of the way.

Milestone by @1kook is probably one of the first brother’s best friend BTS fics I read and it is amazing. I adore it so much. Because Jungkook is your brother’s best friend he is there for every milestone in your life. But you’ve both grown up now and neither of you are kids anymore. It’s hot. Like really hot. Dialogue and set up are so sharp and fast paced I really loved every second.

Young God by @njssi is scorching hot smut with complicated feelings and warm revelations. You think it’s going somewhere and then it goes somewhere else and honestly it is so awesome the whole time. Jungkook was always your brother’s sweet little friend, but he’s returned determined to show you that he is all grown up.

Tease by @caiuscassiuss floored me. I loved it so much! I spent the whole story just squealing happily about everything. This story has it all. It’s scorching hot. It’s enemies-to-lovers. It’s Taehyung. Jungkook’s sister and Kim Taehyung do not get along AT all—so she decides to bring him to his knees by making him desperate for her. It’s a wild and completely awesome ride.

Wasabi by @ironicarmy is a classic. Hobi is a bad boy that Namjoon vehemently refuses to let near his precious baby sister. But love is too strong a force and soon Hobi and the clever object of his desire decide that some things are worth fighting for. It’s a really sweet story of facing challenges and relying on the people you love. Warm and fuzzy feelings abound, but it’s also super hot.

Forbidden by @btssmutgalore is a masterwork blueprint for this trope. Hobi is a carefree player who falls brutally for Taehyung’s sister. They two of them eventually give in to a VERY steamy series of secret encounters and feelings get very involved. This is hot, suspenseful, and emotionally satisfying. Excellent characterizations as well.

Prohibido by @personasintro is an office AU with a twist. Namjoon is not only her brother’s best friend, he is also her boss and the two of them have incredible chemistry. Watching them pretend that they’re not insanely attracted to each other is so endearing and hot. Reader is convinced her feelings are one-sided. It’s lovely and fun. Definitely a slow burn, but worth it.

Strawberry Kisses by @kimnjss is a fic that I devoured in one sitting and then re-read again immediately. Jeon Jungkook is a player who matches with a girl on a dating app and has no idea she is the sister of his revered mentor and close friend, Min Yoongi. I laughed. I cried. I GASPED OUT LOUD a bunch. It was a whole thing. This is a hybrid social media/written AU and it’s pretty much perfect.

Tempestuous by @ppersonna is so special to me because it was written at the very beginning of my friendship with Lindy. She was looking for requests and I was quick to request my favorite trope. Lindy is bae now and this fic she wrote is marvelous. You are forced to spend the weekend in the same house with your sexy arch-rival Taehyung who just so happens to be your brother’s best friend. Naturally snarky hotness ensues.

Off Limits @floralseokjin is basically a famous entry when it comes to this trope. It’s a Jin fic and Miss Jordan writes EXQUISITE Jin characterizations. There is a hint of mistaken (or unknown) identity in this one which makes it even more fun. Sparks fly between you and a devilishly charming Kim Seokjin at a party. You don’t find out until later who he really is—and why he’s off limits.

And finally I’ll recommend my own Brother’s Best Friend fic All I Want for Christmas is You featuring a charming Taehyung who falls for Jimin’s sister. Jimin basically blackmails his best friend into escorting his sister to several holiday galas. Tae and Jimin’s sister have never gotten along, but they soon discover (through multiple pranks and mishaps) that love (and desire) are out of their control.

Not Your Fairytale by @yeojaa is incredibly sweet and tender. Erin really does emotion so well and her Yoongi characterization is honestly so nuanced and brilliant. This story is about a girl who had her heart broken and instead of canceling the cake tasting she scheduled with her philandering ex-fiancé, she wrangles the tsundere best friend of her brother to pretend to be him.

Brother’s Best Friend by @bts-hyperfixation is a short and sweet moment between two people who have been fighting their attraction for each other. It is so hot and delicious I tell you. You’re in trouble and the person you call is probably the person you shouldn’t—but you aren’t the only one willing to take a risk tonight.

Off Limits by @kaddiiction will break your heart and put it back together again. This one was recommended to me by a reader and I cannot thank them enough. It is fantastic. Jimin is a player but he crosses the line when he begins a liaison with his best friend’s sister. Still there is far more to this situation—and Jimin—than meets the eye.

꧁Best Friend’s Brother꧂

Orectic by @gimmesumsuga is one of my favorite fics of all time. It is a hybrid fic where the reader is a cat hybrid and Hoseok is the brother of her best friend who comes to stay with her while her bestie is away... It is so tender yet SO HOT. I’m telling you I cannot even keep count of how many times I have read it.

Theophany by @ilikemesometaetaes was a JOURNEY. It made me so emotional. Like the story centers around art a lot, but let me tell you, this fic IS art. Jimin is just the man of my whole dreams in this piece as the brother of a former best friend with an irresistible allure. It is a coming of age story with the most beautiful twist. AND THE LOVE SCENE—oh my gosh I screamed it was so good. This story is just so so good.

Run by @neonlights92 is Jungkook’s story in the mafia universe I am COMPLETELY OBSESSED WITH. You don’t have to read the whole series to understand it (BUT YOU SHOULD). This is best friend’s brother meets arranged marriage and honestly it’s fantastic. Jungkook doesn’t do love and affection and being forced into an arranged marriage with his sister’s friend who has always had a crush on him is just a blow to his freedom... or is she? GAH! This story—like all the stories in this universe—is superb.

The Magic to Happiness by @readyplayerhobi is a best friend’s brother meets teachers AU meets Hogwarts AU. Now... all of those are top tier tropes so finding them together is like winning the lottery. Hobi was once just a skinny kid who had obvious heart eyes for you (his sister’s best friend) but now he’s tall and confident and really attractive. The magic of this story is evident in every word of the sweet relationship that blooms between these two.

Problem with You by @monvante is so sweet and kind of hilarious. I giggled so much! Jungkook is your best friend’s brother and he is kind of too perfect and too handsome and he’s always around and you hate him and he hates you... Right? When you cross paths with the infuriating Jeon Jungkook at your best friend’s wedding, you discover that you may have been wrong about a great many things.

Show Me Yours and I’ll Show You Mine by @ktheist is so so SO fabulous. I was obsessed with this (now complete) series from the very first installment. You and Tae are besties who have know each other since you were little kids, but lately Tae’s older brother Jin has been lookin mighty fine. Just how far can you push him till he breaks. And if he breaks.... what then?

This list is BY NO MEANS exhaustive. I just used it to compile some of my FAVORITES in this particular trope.

➪ IF YOU HAVE ANY OTHER BROTHER’S BEST FRIEND FICS I SHOULD CHECK OUT PLEASE COMMENT (seriously please I love this trope so much) AND I WILL ADD THEM TO THIS LIST.

➪ Newer Additions are in PINK!

➪ Newest Additions are in BLUE

[hexachloro12butadiene]

while I love the project sekai story as is and think it’s fun having everyone in the same town and high school, I also think it’d be super cool to have more variety in ages, etc. anyways it’s the kind of thing I would write one of those huge in depth au fics for if I was into that kind of thing, but I’m more of a one-shot and leave it kinda person so instead I’ll write out my thoughts here.

Leo/Need

leave them the same lol. Leo/Need’s story is obviously very focused on the whole high school thing so changing it doesn’t make sense.

Vivid Bad Squad

honestly I’d say leave them the same but also it’s be funny if they were college students. akitoya have been performing together since high school still. kohane’s parents freaking out because their little girl went off to college and went wild. actually it’d be great if akito, Toya, and an are all from the area but kohane’s from some little town in miyagi or something. she’s got a bumpkin dialect.

More More Jump

listen. they’re the reason I started this thought process. there ARE plenty of high school idols and even middle school idols but the amount of drama and leaving and coming back it would make so much more sense for them to be older. and also! you can introduce so many more interesting subtleties by having them older. I think it would be interesting for Shizuku to be the oldest, and her to have “aged out” of being an idol at around 25 because she “looks too old” but after graduating realizes she still loves it and wants to come back. Airi, a bit younger, could keep her same story of having been pushed into variety. Haruka is then the youngest of the 3, and graduated early at like 21 for the same reasons as in the story. meanwhile, Minori is still a high schooler. Giving that age difference makes it more realistic for her to have looked up to the other ones as a kid. plus idol groups with wide age ranges are super fun!!! there’s a lot of shock to it in the actual story as well but having these three 20+ veteran idols be like we’re back and our BFF is a high schooler would be SO funny. bonuses to this change is it ups the age difference between Shizuku and Shiho to ~10 years which I think is SUPER interesting.

Wonderlands x showtime

ALSO want to age these guys up. nene has achieved some level of notoriety as an actress before her downfall. emu, like her siblings, is involved with management of Phoenix Wonderland but she still has her same personality and disagreements with them. Rui is Local Deranged Man. But the funniest thing is, by far, Tsukasa. Instead of this high schooler running around proclaiming his own greatness while getting no roles it is. A fully grown man. Just like with Shizuku, this would exaggerate his difference with Saki and let me tell u I have seen how 4 year olds act around their newborn siblings and yeah Tsukasa would kill or die for saki.

Nightcord

LET! THEM! LIVE! IN DIFFERENT PLACES!!!

when have you EVER had a group of four online friends all live in the same town? NEVER

if they live in separate places, that makes the sekai itself even more special as a meet up place because. it’s the only way they get to see each other. also we’re changing their ages too. kanade is an adult & the oldest but still the least capable of taking care of herself. constantly gets mistaken for a middle schooler. mafuyu is still a high schooler because that’s too integral to her story. I feel like her being the youngest of the group also emphasizes her prodigy vibes and ena’s annoyance and admiration of her. ena is going to art school, and unlike Akito she moved away to a different town. he’s the only member of her family that she calls. she loves and hates art school all at once. mizuki.... so I actually feel this is super fun for mizuki? the others don’t know SHIT about mizuki. their age, gender, job/school status, where they live, etc. it’s SO much easier to keep your life hidden when you never see each other irl. when they discover the sekai for the first time, mizuki has a panic attack afterwards about having been Seen.

————

so those are my thoughts... I get that if it were done this way it’d be harder to have everyone meet & be friends but I also think some of the relationships could be interesting (Nene retires to be a vocal instructor & takes ichika and minori as students? emu meeting mafuyu at some volunteer event and not having the “you’re older than me” excuse, mizuki & rui being online friends since middle school and having so so so much dirt on each other. they don’t know each other’s real names., etc.) I also think it’d be super fun to have them interacting with vocaloids who are younger than them. akito and meiko sitting at the bar watching the kagamines up to some shenanigans like Is This What High Schoolers Do Now but then kaito joins in and it’s like ah no. they’re just idiots.

hmmm tumblr might’ve broken the post so I’ll stop here and see if it’s posts correctly or not.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL

Oct 2021 Wk 2 

Being a highly subjective assessment of one tiny corner of the interwebs.

Ongoing Series - Thai

Bite Me Ep 7 (Viki) - The brother was a greta character but the dripping faucet was very stressful for someone living in drought country. Here’s my relationship with this drama: ARGH they are so cute, but so slow, but so cute, but so slow - OH look at the pretty food! - and more cute. 

Don’t Say No Ep 11 (Line) - Episode recaps here. Make it stop. 

My Mate Match (Line) Ep 2 - honestly the “there’s only one bed trope” is particularly amusing in this series. This ep was a little slow but dealing with real world-esk problems for the age bracket which I liked. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Love is Science? (Taiwan - BL sub plot Viki) ep 17 - honestly OuWen’s understanding of Marks parents’ reaction, and the way he patiently explains how a child coming out can impact a family’s identity was really beautifully done. These two are such great characters and I love how the narrative keeps twisting the expectations and reactions around their narrative arc counteracting what most BL plot lines would give us. Mark is the bold outgoing one, even though he’s newly queer. OuWen is a confident gay, but he’s the one who practices empathy and explains identity struggles of the hets to his militant boyfriend. You can really see why they love each other. OuWen loves that Mark is willing to fight for him and for them - that’s loyalty, while Mark loves how OuWen changes both Mark and the way Mark views the world - that’s trust. They don’t have much screen time but unlike most BLs we see them slowly developing the foundation for a truly long lasting relationship with honest communication and trust. It’s very grown up or them. 

The Tasty Florida (Korea - Viki) Ep 7 & 8 fin - subs were a bit naff on these final two eps, and the love triangle is a little underdeveloped for the amount of emotion, but then so was this whole series. All in all, I’d call it sweet and fluffy, sunshine boy saves grumpy chef from himself. slightly unnecessary love triangle and everyone was very pretty. RECOMMENDED 

Innocent (Taiwan - grey)  Ep 1-2 - man involved in relationship with a boy with multiple personalities, higher heat, it’s a bit too weird for me. Not sure if I’ll finish it. I do kinda like that the seme is basically: So I’m in a poly relationship with one person? That’s cool I guess. 

Vanishing My First Love AKA Kieta Hatsukoi (Japan - indie subbed) Ep 1 - live action yaoi series that looks to be 10 eps of 25 min each. This is a mistaken identity = love triangle drama. Hashimoto has a crush on Ida. Aoki has a crush on Hashimoto. Aoki finds out the girl he likes is into Ida and through a series of mishaps, Ida thinks Aoki has a crush on HIM. Takes this seriously. All three are very earnest and sweet and trying to do the right thing. Japan can get pretty over-expressive and cartoonish with their manga adaptations and this is no exception. Why does one half of the couple always have to be SUCH A SPAZ? (Yes I AM thinking of Cherry Magic.) I suffered acute second hand embarrassment but I did chuckle, it’s just those chuckles are pretty painful. This is more Ossan’s Love than it is Seven Days but it could go Cherry Magic meets Light On Me if it plays it’s cards right, so I’m sticking with it. Tropes are coming thick and fast, already we got lie loom, wall loom, and rooftop assignation: Japan is apparently back in BL to remind us JAPAN STARTED IT ALL, SUCKERS! 

In Case You Missed It

Love With Benefits got a trailer and is supposed to start on Line (in Thailand) on Nov. 1. It’s another quarantine forced proximity (cohabitation) project with a love triangle. It looks a lot like My Mate Match. First, Play, and Pluto have to stay under the same roof for 10 days. Will love blossom? Stars Gameplay (Ingredients) and Best (I am Your King, Skinship, Check Out). No info on the third and he doesn't’ look familiar to me. Love Triangles are in fashion ya’ll.  (thanks @heretherebedork​ for the tip and @maru-x-idrew​ for the date) 

Strongberry dropped a new K-BL microfilm: Please Tell Me So. It’s a sweet little barista has a crush on his regular and can he work up the courage to confess. As usually from Strongberry tit’s on point a very well done. Go spend 8 minutes with these two cuties. 

Small (but reliable) Thai production house Mandee released their 2022 BL line up (all of which I reported on already but this is MORE data). (I’m moving them off the 2021 report as a result.) 

Cutie Pie (featuring Zee from Why R U?) is an arranged marriage romance which has added established pair MaxNat to their roster. For which we are, of course, eternally grateful. Also new pair of unknowns. For which were a nervous. I don’t like it when a BL has too many pairs in it. Loses focus. 

Middleman’s Love and Bed Friend which used to be the same BL, Middle Love (with the couple from Bed Friend as the side dishes), but seem to have been divided into two smaller BLs instead. Presumably for quarantine reasons. 

Ride or Die released another trailer for Quaranthings 2. 

Boys Lockdown has been in production on season 2. 

(@bengiyo reporting in from the Filipino drama front lines) 

GOSSIP!

New Thai BL NilunDon has been cast and is supposed to air an ep 0 teaser on Oct 31 (Gaga) with 12 eps in the series. Hurt/comfort about a hotel heir who returns to Thailand to deal with a death in the family where he meets and falls in love with a barista. Familiar faces: Nut from 2016′s domestic family trauma-llama BL Grey Rainbow (he’s WONDERFUL, but DON’T WATCH IT) and Tie (from The Effect of all things, also DON’T WATCH IT). There will also be a friends to lovers GL couple. 

Bad Buddy got its official trailer from GMMTV and a drop date of October 29. They pulled the original teaser trailer (which I actually likes better) but I am still very excited for this show. 

Two new Vietnamese BLs in the works! @heretherebedork reporting, of course (our source for all things V-BL). 02 Productions (Nation’s Brother, Most Peaceful Place) is filming Cinderfella and release some BTS footage. 02 is responsible for the 2nd Vietnamese BL we know of in existence, The Ring Goes Missing from 2018, which they are now turning into a full series called The Lost Ring (college kid takes work as a houseboy for rich asshole who falls in love with him). I’ll put both these onto 2022′s master tracking list because there’s no other way to track them, since MDL doesn’t list Vietnamese stuff. 

Next Week Looks Like This:

Some shows may be listed later than actual air date for International subs accessibility reasons.

My Sweet Dear starts next week, new Korean BL on Viki!

Upcoming 2021 BL master post here.

Links to watch are provided when possible, ask in a comment if I missed something.

This week’s best moments?

(from the Bad Buddy trailer, look at GMMTV being all cutely self referential.) 

* Sorry this is late, I’m on the move again. 

[seungmvnnie]

Flipped

pairing; Chenle x reader

genre; enemies to lovers au, ‘American high school’ au, angst, fluff

word count; 10.8k

summary; ‘The moment you laid eyes on Zhong Chenle, you had flipped.’ You had known that you were in love with Chenle, your next door neighbor, since you were 7 years old. Chenle wanted nothing to do with you. Until of course, ten years later he starts to realize that perhaps there’s more to you that meets the eye, unluckily just as you began to realize, perhaps Chenle was less than you had chalked him up to be.

warnings; insensitive language regarding illness, death, female reader, heavily inspired by the movie flipped, some scenes are near word for word from the movie, so credits to the movie for those parts, although parts of the main narrative differ, as well as scenes. A large majority of the characters are not similar to their real life counterpart. 

tag list; @sunflowerhae​ @byunbaekby​​ @mikasrecs​(if you asked to be on the tag list and i didn’t tag you, i’m very sorry, i was terrible at tracking who was on it cause im an idiot)

a/n; Started making it. Had a breakdown. Bon Appetit.

It all began in the Summer before second grade. In Zhong Chenle’s eyes, it was the beginning of a decade of strategic avoidance, awkward encounters, and a lifetime worth of what he deemed to be, discomfort.

For you, it was true love.

The moment you laid eyes on Zhong Chenle, you had flipped. It was something in those eyes, those dazzling brown eyes which bore into you. Or maybe it was something about his smile. There was something about him which made you realize that at 7 years old, you had met your soul mate. His family had just moved into your neighborhood, a long cul-de-sac of identical, modern two-story houses, the majority of which had the same identical clean cut lawns and typical nuclear well off family who owned the house and prided themselves on how their petunias were better than the house across the streets. That was except for yours, of course. Deemed the ‘embarrassment of the neighborhood,’ the yellow paint on your house was flaking off, the grass dry and grey and the fence encasing the yard, which had at one point been white was now a dull grey, not to mention falling apart in some places. This was attributed to the fact that your father simply did not have the time. As a painter, he had to work extra hard to provide for his family, especially considering your mother’s situation.

It was a hot summer’s day, the day Chenle moved in. You could remember the feeling of the sun on your face as you basked in its warmth, the pavement on which you sat almost boiling as the moving van pulled up to the house opposite yours. You had recalled that your father had told you to always be kind and helpful, which is why you had thought it appropriate to skip across the road to the nice looking family and offer a helping hand.

Little did you know, your help was unwanted. Chenle remembered watching the girl skip – skip? As if anyone had done that since kindergarten – from the odd-looking house across the way and when she confidently stated,

“Hi, I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Need any help?” He looked to his father for confirmation that this girl was strange. He noticed the judgmental look which was written on his father’s face as he surveyed the girl with the messy hair and grubby clothes, no doubt from playing in the unpleasant yard which she came from that juxtaposed with their clean, green yard. He recognized the exact moment that his father deemed them better than her, a switch in his face where he knew where she stood on the social ladder. Acting according, he too looked at the girl with disdain.

“There’s some valuable things in those boxes. Don’t touch them.” His father had scolded as you reached for one of the boxes that were stacked on their lawn.

“What about this one?” You suggested, reaching for another one. This was the moment that Chenle had realized that this girl could not take a hint. His father had pushed the box away with his foot before you could even touch it.

“Maybe you should run home? Your moms probably worried about you.” He sneered, staring down his nose on you. Resilient, you stared back.

“My dad knows I’m here.” You had replied simply, before turning to Chenle.

“Want to push one together?” You asked, pointing at one of the heavier ones. Chenle scrunched his face up at you, looking to his father for answers.

“I think your mom wants your help in the house, Chenle.” His dad had replied, not so subtly winking at him, as if to say, ‘escape from the crazy girl while you can.’

 He seized the opportunity, turning on his heel and running towards the house, where his mother stood in the doorway, when the most ridiculous thing happened. Not only did (Y/N) (Y/L/N) follow him, but you grabbed his hand.

“Oh, hello! I see you’ve met my son.” His mother had called out, a small smile growing on her face as she observed the sight of the two 7-year olds connected by their hands.

Chenle, having no clue how to escape the situation, did the most mature thing a 7-year-old boy could do. He hid behind his mother.

Who did you think you were? He had been here for less than 10 minutes and he had some crazy girl trying to hold his hand.

Of course, for you, you really had thought you were being kind. The boxes on the lawn did look intimidatingly heavy but you were sure with the help of the cute boy stood next to them, you could help get them into the house. You hadn’t picked up on the fact that it had taken Mr. Zhong all of 10 seconds to determine that you weren’t worthy of their time and when he had sent his son inside to help unpack, you thought maybe it would be a good idea to chase after him, see if he wanted to play for a bit before he was stuck unpacking boring boxes. You had grabbed his arm to stop him from running into his house, when he turned around and moved his arm out of your clasp, grabbing your hand instead.

You could remember vividly, the way your stomach had flipped as he stared at you with those deep brown eyes, and you had been so sure he was going to kiss you. He had held your hand! At 7, you had basically considered that a marriage proposal. If his mother had not have called out to you, you were sure you were going to have had your first kiss at 7 years old. The way he blushed and hid behind his mother was adorable, he was so shy.

That night you lay awake, thinking of the boy who was walking around with your first kiss.

If only he wasn’t so shy, maybe he would have. That was the moment you decided, you were going to do everything in your power to ensure that Chenle would not have to ever feel shy around you. He needed to know; he had a friend in you.

While sweet in theory, the reality of the situation was, Chenle believed he did not need the help of, what his father had referred to the evening after you, your two older brothers and your father brought over homemade pies, ‘trash like them.’ He especially did not need the help of the girl who embarrassed him on the first day of school. Yes, you had thought it appropriate, upon seeing Chenle enter the classroom of Mr. Lee on the very first day of school, to run up to him and give him a huge hug, which he of course, had struggled against. That’s what had earned him the reputation of being (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s boyfriend, a reputation he did not manage to shrug off until freshman year of high school, and he only got rid of through dating Lee Chaeryong for an incredibly brief period of time, who was perfectly sweet, but he didn’t find her particularly interesting.

For a while, he found dealing with Chaeryong’s insistence yammering about nothing he cared about a lot easier to endure than the lovesick eyes you gave him. The plan was, he would walk her to class a few times, sit with her at lunch and eventually, you would lose interest, he could break up with her.  It was all going smoothly, until his best friend, Park Jisung, suddenly decided to get a moral backbone for once and tell Chaeryong what Chenle was doing. Chenle reckoned it was just because of Jisung’s own crush on her, but either way, it had resulted in a very public breakup. A week later, you were back to obsessing over him, and once again he became, (Y/N)’s boyfriend.

 3 years later, their senior year, brought a lot of changes, the main change of which being Chenle’s grandfather had permanently moved in with their family. Chenle did not know much of his grandfather. An old surly man, he spent his days sat in the armchair beside their front window, staring blankly out into the empty street. Chenle’s mom said he did that because he missed grandma, although Chenle would not know as much he had very little conversations with him. The second change in Chenle’s life was more superficial as everyone was talking about how much (Y/N) had grown between the summer of junior and senior year – your face had thinned out, and you had a much more of a mature air about you and for a brief moment of, what Chenle had deemed insanity, he may have mistaken you as pretty. Of course, the second you had sent him the same goofy smile which graced your face every time you looked at him, and murmured the same,

“Hi, Chenle,” the pit in his stomach from the tired repetition of ten years returned.

“Hi, (Y/N).” He had replied, a tight-lipped smile sent your way.

 It is imperative to the justification of your side of the story that you understand that Chenle had never once openly rejected you, or even treated you rudely. You would talk to him when you could, and he would reply perfectly politely, which would only reinforce the idea that it’s not that he did not like you, he was just shy. On top of that, it was not as if you actively pursued him. You spoke to him like one would a friend as, how you saw it, everyone knew you liked Chenle, no doubt, including him. If he wanted to, he would ask you out. Other than that, you were content talking to him when you could.

 Other than your looks, a lot more had changed in your life. For almost as long as you could remember, your mother had been sick. There had been a time, a very long time ago, where you could recall how the same scalic motif would echo from the piano which now lay dormant, the thick layer of dust that had blanketed it over the years rendering it inoperable. Your life had been filled with hospital visits to a woman you had never really gotten the opportunity to know and who no longer knew you. You often grazed your hand over the ivory piano keys, and tried to flick through the penciled sheet music which hadn’t been touched since the last time your mom had last scribbled on them but to you it was a foreign language you could only hope to understand.

About a week into September, you had been ignoring your English teacher’s in-depth analysis of some Shakespeare scene and letting your thoughts and eyes wander to where Chenle sat two seats in front of you. His black hair had seemed even darker that day, contrasting with the white t-shirt and denim jacket he was wearing. You were so focused on the way his head would duck down to take notes, that you barely noticed the teacher who had slid into the classroom and leaned to whisper something in your teacher’s ear. It wasn’t until your teacher had called your name and Chenle had spun to stare at you alongside the rest of the class, his brown eyes meeting yours, that you had snapped back into reality, the heat of your embarrassment at getting caught by Chenle warming your face. Funnily enough, you had forgotten about your embarrassment when your teacher had called you out into the hallway, where your tearful father stood. He didn’t have to say anything. You knew.

The next week all blurred together into a flurry of emotions which you purposefully tried your best to forget. The funeral was huge, groups of people from your school coming to show solidarity, as well as the entire neighborhood, including Chenle and his family. You could not bring yourself to glance at him, not with your father crying quietly next to you. You did not know whether to cry for the woman you had never met before. 

  Your school allowed you the next few months off school, but you had returned after only one month and that month was the quietest your house had ever been. Your father locked himself in his room for the first two weeks, and your brothers oversaw making dinner for the family, which essentially meant the whole family was living off frozen pizza for two weeks. Your dad eventually emerged from his bedroom, but when he did, he was like a man crazed. He insisted that you did a spring clean (it was September) of the house and get rid of the clutter which had gathered from the many years of neglect. You were in charge of sorting through all of the things your dad wanted to give to charity, and you had invited your friend Shin Ryujin over to help. More like she insisted. Ryujin had been new to town in freshmen year and had befriended you before she had known of your reputation as ‘Chenle’s stalker,’ and she had been a fierce friend ever since. You had both been folding a pile of old clothes when your eyes fell on your mom’s old music stand accompanied with that oh so familiar stack of written sheet music under a pile of old toys. 

You didn’t want your mom’s handwritten sheet music to end up in a charity shop but your dad had insisted that no one was using it, and, unless you could think of someone else to give it to, it was going to charity. That was when, luckily, you remembered Chenle. He was a skilled piano player and singer, so much so, the whole school anticipated his performance in the Christmas Talent Show, which he had won for the past 3 years. Upon gaining your father’s permission, but against the wishes of Ryujin who had spent the past three years explaining how Chenle was terrible for you and you needed to, in her words, ‘Hoe it up,’ you made the journey across the road and knocked on Chenle’s door, clutching the music stand and sheet music to your chest. Luckily, he had been the one to open the door instead of his father whom you didn’t personally mind, but felt as though he may have disliked you. 

It had been early before school one morning, when you had knocked on his door. He was barely awake, the sweatpants and loose t-shirt he had worn for his pajamas still clung to his body. He hadn’t expected to be opening the door to someone from school, let alone you, awake and bright eyed. On a normal day, your chirpiness would have bothered him to no end, but today was different. He hadn’t seen you since your mom’s funeral, and he found that he had wounded up missing your ever-present annoyance. He didn’t know how reassuring that lovesick, “Hi, Chenle,” could be. He couldn’t understand how, in your absence, he found his eyes straying to your empty seat, or when he sat at his desk which lay in front of his window, his eyes would wander to where he knew your bedroom window sat. He had realized, in the few weeks that you were off, that your presence was more comforting that your absence.

His dad hadn’t wanted to go the funeral. Apparently, he didn’t see the point. It was his mother who had pushed them to go, saying how bad they would have looked if they didn’t show their faces. His dad had argued that he didn’t care how he looked to a poor dreamer and the ‘crazies he calls family.’ The only reason they ended up going was because his mom had said she was going with or without him and apparently that would look bad to everyone else in the neighborhood. Chenle didn’t see the harm; sure he didn’t like you, but you were always nice to him and it was only respectful.

“Uh- Hi, (Y/N).” He said, eyes wandering down your body to where you clutched the sheet music and back up to your face. Your heart had flipped, a sensation you were now old friends with and usually attributed to Chenle’s warm brown eyes which traversed your face, his morning voice only making him more attractive. Little did you know, Chenle’s biggest concern at this moment was less checking you out and more checking if you were okay, and judging by the tired bags under your eyes despite your outwardly cheery appearance, you didn’t look okay.

“Hi, Chenle.” For once, those two words didn’t make him want to rip his own hair out.

“Uh, these are my mom’s. My dad wanted to give them to charity but, I don’t know, I thought they’d be better with someone I know... and well, you’re kind of the only musician I know.” His eyes flickered down to the sheet music you clutched in your arms.

“Oh- Thanks?” The music stand looked to Chenle to be at least 30 years old and the yellowing sheet music did not look too enticing, but he reached out his arms for them anyways.

“She wrote the music herself. You don’t have to play it but, I don’t know, I just really didn’t want to see it end up in the back of some charity shop. At least I know, with your talent, it’s in good hands.”

“Oh, well thanks.” You sent him an awkward closed mouth smile before turning on your heel but before you could make the short walk across the road, he called out to you.

“Wait-”

You spun around again.

“Yeah?”

He had stood up from where he had previously been leaning against the door frame, his brow now furrowed.

“Are you- are you coming back to school anytime soon?” He almost cringed as he uttered the words. He always felt bad being nice to you, it felt as if he was giving you false hope. However, for the first time, it came naturally to him as opposed to the fake smile he would give you.

“I’m allowed off until January but I’m coming back next week. It’s just so... quiet at my house. I’m kind of sick of it at this point.” His eyes scanned your face again, in the way that felt as though he could stare into your very soul if he looked hard enough.

“Well, I hope you’re okay.” The sincerity in his voice echoed the sympathetic look on his face.

“Thanks. I’ll see you next week, I guess.”

“See you at school.” He closed the door and looked at the music stand he had left leaning against the wall, which, unfortunately, became the topic of discussion that night at the dinner table.

“I think it was very nice of her to give you that stuff, Chenle.” His Mom had said, the clinking sounds of cutlery against plates underlying the conversation.

“I’m not using them,” He replied simply, as he moved the vegetables his mom had forcibly placed on his plate around with his fork. 

“Oh, don’t be a dick, Chenle.” His sister nudged him, ignoring their parent shouts of, ‘language!’

“I’m not being a dick, they’re about 30 years old and I’m a piano player, I don’t use a music stand anyways.” He placed his fork down.

“Well, they’re not lying here and collecting dust. I’m honestly annoyed. Just because their house is all cluttered doesn’t mean our house has to be. You can go back and tell her you don’t want them.” His dad interjected, in that authoritarian manner he so loved.

“Dad, I can’t do that.”

“Eat your vegetables, Chenle.” His mom said, taking a sip from her way-too-expensive crystal wine glass. He rolled his eyes and picked up his fork again, purposely taking a bite out of the broccoli which adorned his plate.

“Why not? Are you scared of her?” His dad challenged, and Chenle couldn’t help but notice the broccoli which remained on his plate. Why did Chenle have to eat it but his dad didn’t?

“I’m not scared of her, it’s just- Her mom just died. I don’t want to be mean.” His fork stopped moving as his Father scoffed.

“Man up. You aren’t being rude, you’re being honest.”

“Chenle, vegetables.” 

He groaned, shoveling as much of the vegetables into his mouth as he possibly could in one go before sinking down in his chair. He didn’t have a clue what to do. On one hand, the music equipment was of no use to him, so realistically, it would make the most sense to give them back. But on the other hand, if he gave them back they would just end up with charity and while Chenle didn’t necessarily like the girl, he didn’t think he could be that insensitive. Which was why he had deemed it an amazing idea to ask the paragon of good advice, his best friend, Park Jisung, at school the next day.

“Dude, just give it away yourself.” Jisung had answered assertively, from where he had perched himself atop his desk during their break, opening the cupcake that Chenle had given him. It had originally been a gift from Chaeryong who had long since forgiven him since the Freshmen incident, and every now and then when she got bored, would return to her phase of crushing on him.

“What do you mean?” Chenle asked, ignoring the way he could most definitely see Chaeryong staring at him from behind Jisung’s head, taking a sip of the strawberry milk he had bought from the school vending machine. Jisung rolled his eyes.

“I mean, if you give it away to some thrift shop first, she’ll never know, and you can tell your family that you told her. Boom, both people are happy.” Chenle chewed at the straw of his milk carton. He wasn’t necessarily wrong; in giving the stuff away himself, no one got hurt and he wouldn’t get called a coward by his family.

“Jisung, you’re a genius. Come with me after school? We’ll drop by my house and I’ll drive us into town.” Jisung nodded, cringing as he picked the love heart candy off the cupcake.

Unfortunately for Chenle, he hadn’t seemed to realize that, sat with her back to him was Ryujin, who had overheard the whole conversation, mostly because Chaeryong had insisted they eavesdropped on them to see if they talked about her. Ryujin had let Chenle away with a lot over the years; he had ignored you, laughed at you with his friends, talked about you behind his back and while she would discuss how much of a prick she thought he was with you, you never believed her, or blamed yourself, or make excuses for him. Which was why she deemed it a necessary evil to send you a text saying, ‘Want to go thrift shopping after school? I’ll buy you coffee?’

She knew you would never turn down free coffee. And it actually had turned out you had multiple boxes to donate anyways, although shopping with Ryujin was always an experience. You liked clothes shopping as much as anyone, but Ryujin was crazy. She could take 3 hours to go through one tiny shop.

“Ryujin? Are you done yet?” You had whined, the cardboard coffee cup in your hand had been emptied at least half an hour ago, and you had finished looking for clothes an hour ago. She was especially taking her time today, deliberating every item of clothing she saw and the dark lighting was starting to hurt your eyes, the musky smell of cedar wood and laundry detergent was inviting at first, but now made you feel woozy.

“My feet hurt.” You complained again, only pouting at the joke glare she shot your way. The bell which jingled every time someone entered the shop that you had learned to zone out the past two hours rang again, but this time, Ryujin’s eyes flickered up and rested on the person standing at the door. You furrowed your brow and spun to see who she was staring at, and there stood Chenle and Jisung, both looking positively ill.

“Oh- Hi, Chenle!” You waved, a small smile gracing your face. You cocked your head slightly to look at the two boys who had lost all color to their faces. Chenle still looked as good as ever, and the smell of his citrusy shampoo paired with his expensive smelling cologne cut through the woody scent of the shop, his chestnut brown eyes which lay beneath his messy mop of dark hair bringing butterflies to your stomach the way they always did.

“What’s wrong? You look as if you’ve seen a-,” you didn’t get to finish your sentence as your eyes had fallen down to where he clutched the oh so familiar sheet music and music stand. Your smile dropped, the butterflies in your stomach mutating into lead.

“What are you doing with those?” You asked, quietly, ignoring the way Jisung almost ran back out of the shop.

“I- uh- well...” He looked down, staring guiltily at his hands and the rusty music stand he clutched.

“If you didn’t want them you could have said, you know. You didn’t have to go behind my back to give them away.” You snapped, and for the first time in your whole life, looking at Chenle made your heart sink instead of flip. 

“It wasn’t me! My dad said that he didn’t-” He stopped, as if he had caught himself.

“Didn’t what?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. He sighed, and glance to the side, almost as though he was refusing to meet your eyes.

“He said he didn’t understand why our house had to be cluttered just because you only started cleaning up your house and yard now.” He mumbled, and your eyes widened, and you put out an arm to stop Ryujin, who you could sense was about to jump on the boy.

“I didn’t think a bunch of sheet music was going to destroy your house that much.” You replied, letting out a huff and gulping away the lump in your throat, refusing to cry in front of him.

“I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” He mumbled, staring at his hands in shame. He had never wished that the ground would swallow him whole more in his entire life.

“You should have told me. Give them to the shop, honestly. I don’t care anymore.” You pushed past him, resisting the urge to throw the empty cardboard coffee cup at him.

“(Y/N)!” He called after you and you turned again, blinking back the tears which were gathering in your eyes, the constant chanting of, ‘don’t cry,’ becoming a sustained pedal in your head and realistically being the only thing stopping the tears from spilling.

“What?”

“I- I’m sorry.” His chestnut eyes you loved so much stared at you in that sincere way that felt as though he could stare into your soul if he tried hard enough, but for once, you could see a corruption in the honesty, a sort of rotten core to what you had previously thought was a pure center.

“No, you’re not.” You mumbled, before spinning back round and dragging Ryujin out by the wrist who had to drop the clothes she had clutched previously in a pile next to the door, having been given no opportunity to replace them tidily.

At first you had thought you were upset, the burning sensation in your chest was mistaken for sadness, but when you brought your hand up to your eyes to wipe away the tears which now fell, the downtrodden feeling switched into anger very quickly. Not only did Chenle lie and act as if he had cared about you and your family, but he had the audacity to talk about you all as if you were a group of hoarders who couldn’t keep your yard presentable.

You slammed your car door shut - while you had previously loved your run-down little jeep, you supposed perhaps the Zhong family liked to comment on that too - ignoring the comforting words Ryujin was uttering as she climbed into the passenger seat.

“Are you busy on Saturday?” You asked as you gripped the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white, turning the key in the ignition.

“Uh- I don’t think so. Why?” Ryujin replied, eyeing you warily.

“How do you feel about gardening?”

It didn’t take long for Chenle to realize he had traded in his old problems with (Y/N) (Y/L/N) for a whole set of new ones. You had returned to school the next week, and the way you constantly avoided him was simply a reminder of how much of a jerk he had been. Not to mention when he woke up on Saturday morning to discover you and Ryujin in your garden pulling up weeds, the guilt panging in his chest as he watched you toil away.

Then one day a week later or so, he was walking back from playing basketball from Jisung when things got weird.

His grandfather stood in your front yard, a pair of sheers in hand as he clipped at the hedges which had grown over your windows, conversing quietly with you as you worked.

He had only ever seen his grandfather in slippers - where the hell had those work boots come from? He didn’t even know his grandfather knew how to use sheers let alone would willingly help a random girl from across the street. The more he watched from his bedroom window, the madder he got. His grandfather had said more to you in the last hour than he had the whole time he had lived with them. Chenle wasn’t even sure if he had ever seen his grandfather laugh before, but there he was, laughing at something you said.

You had been struggling with hacking away the hedge when his grandfather had approached you. Ryujin had abandoned helping you a while ago, but you still appreciated the help she had given you originally. You knew gardening wasn’t necessarily her thing. You wanted to think that the reason you had decided to fix up your yard was not because of what Zhong Chenle thought of you, but to make your house better in this new pre-mom times, as your brothers had begun calling them. After what he had done with your mom’s sheet music, why were you meant to care about anything he thought? But sadly, you knew deep down you did.

“Are you pruning that Hedge or hacking it to death?” You heard someone call out, and you swung around to see a man whom you couldn’t help but recognize as being related to Chenle. They had the same smile.

You laughed awkwardly, clutching the sheers a little tighter. 

“I’m Chenle’s grandfather. Sorry it’s taken me so long to come over and introduce myself.” He smiled again and outstretched a hand which you then shook.

“Nice to meet you.” 

“Are you planning on cutting these all to the same height?” He gestured towards the hedges. You breathed in, looking at the hedges which you had previously been ruining.

“That was the plan, but I might have to take them out. I’m not very good at this, if you can’t tell.” You joked.

“Oh, these are Hicksii shrubs. They should prune up nicely.” He replied, pulling out a pair of gloves he had appeared to have brought with him, and reached out for the sheers you had been holding.

You eyed him wearily, as he cut at the hedge. “Listen, Mr. Zhong, if you’re here because of what Chenle said, I don’t need your help.”

He leaned back and looked at you sincerely.

“I don’t know what my little shit of a grandson said to you, but I’m just here because of the crime you were committing on these shrubs.”

The previous reluctance you had felt was immediately relieved as you let out a sincere laugh, not expecting his crude language.

You both worked together on the yard for weeks, and the whole time you worked, you talked. Mr. Zhong was incredibly kind, and it was honestly nice to know that there was someone in that house who wasn’t watching and waiting for your families next screw up. He told you how you had the same spirit as his wife who died a while ago; apparently you both had the same strong will. Although the conversation that stuck with you the most was a few days into working together and he had tentatively asked you about what was happened with you and Chenle. You had explained the situation while you painted the wood you had bought together to make a fence.

“Well, do you like Chenle?” He had asked, and your face warmed, your hand which held the paint brush stilling.

“I don’t know... It’s something about his eyes, I guess.” You looked down, embarrassed. It felt really weird discussing this with his grandfather.

“But what about him?” Mr. Zhong had asked, his hand still as well.

“What do you mean?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing as you turned your head.

“Well - I mean think of it like this. Your father’s a painter, isn’t he? Well, a painting is more than the sum of its parts. You have to look at the whole landscape. A cow by itself is just a cow, a tree is just a tree, a beam of light is just sunshine, but when you put it all together - it can be something magical. Do you think Chenle’s more than the sum of his parts?” If he had asked you a month ago you would have said absolutely. Chenle was entirely more than the sum of his parts, in every conceivable way. But now you weren’t so sure.

“I- I don’t know.”

Meanwhile, Chenle was still struggling to apologize to you. He had spent all week trying to approach you at school, but when it came to holding a grudge, you were truly impressive. You always found a way to duck him, either turning in the hallway to walk the other way or having Ryujin exit through doors first when he tried to block them to confront you. And every time you were out in your yard, his grandpa was always there. It wasn’t until one day, on a cold Saturday morning towards the end of October, when his grandpa had gone into town to buy cream for his hands because all the yard work was starting to get to him, that he found his opening.

“It looks really good.” He commented, grabbing your attention from where you were watering the grass with a hose. You looked up at the boy whom you had dedicated your life to, who stood awkwardly behind the fence you had put up with his grandfather. You wished you could say he looked bad, but in a flannel shirt, black t-shirt and jeans he had never looked better.

“Thanks.” You said quietly, turning your back to him to continue your work.

“I- I’m sorry for what I did.” He piped up and you sighed before switching off the hose and turning towards him again.

“I don’t get it, Chenle. You could have just told me you didn’t need them. You didn’t have to give them away behind my back.” You looked at him, and for once, you were the one looking into his soul, not the other way around. You looked into those eyes, those dazzling brown eyes which bore into you that belonged to the boy walking around with your first kiss and you thought that perhaps his Grandpa was right. Maybe Chenle wasn’t more than the sum of his parts.

“I don’t know - It was dumb. I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings. I shouldn’t have said anything about your yard either. It wasn’t right.” You let your eyes rest on his face again. You were sure - Chenle was definitely less than the sum of his parts. You shrugged.

“Maybe it was for the best.” You turned back towards the grass, turning the hose on again as if to signal, this was the end of the conversation.

“I- I guess I’ll see you around.” He said, hesitantly. You didn’t even turn to look at him this time.

“I guess.”

He spun to make the short trek back to his house, but not without turning back to look at you one last time before opening the bright red door of his house. Your acceptance of his apology was not all he had hoped for, but at least now he could watch TV with his family with a guilt free conscious. although the atmosphere between his grandpa and dad was nearly palpable, especially when his grandfather reached for the cream on the table beside them to rub into his hands.

“That girl working you too hard?” His dad slyly commented, ignoring the foul look his grandfather sent him in response as he rubbed cream into his hands.

“’That girl’s’ name is (Y/N). And no, she isn’t working me too hard.” 

Chenle’s dad widened his eyes slightly, staring down into the brandy which he swirled in the glass he held.

“Do you not think it’s a bit, I don’t know, weird, that you have the time and energy to spend time with the girl next door but not with your own grandson?” He replied snippily, ignoring the way his mom interjected.

“-It’s okay, Dad-” Chenle began, but couldn’t finish as his father cut him off with a sharp, “No, it’s not.”

“Do you know why the (Y/L/N)’s hadn’t fixed up their yard until now?” His grandfather asked, more rhetorically than anything.

“Yeah. Because he’s too busy with his paint-by-numbers kit.” His dad answered, chortling to himself at his own joke, taking another sip of the brandy he was drinking.

“The illness Mrs. (Y/L/N) had was incredibly hard to treat, not to mention emotionally draining. Every penny they had went into hospital bills treating her, and even then, she had been in a coma for 8 years, and then unresponsive for another 5.” Chenle stared down at his hands, trying his best to zone out the argument, especially considering he had been the asshole who tried to give away this poor woman’s music.

“I don’t see what their vegetative mother has to do with their pride in ownership. Realistically, if she had looked after herself more, maybe they wouldn’t have been in this mess.” His dad had answered, once again laughing at his own joke.

“They don’t own that house, they rent it. It’s supposed to be the responsibility of the landlord, and it was nothing to do with how healthy that poor woman was, (Y/N)’s Mom had a blood condition that made her susceptible to strokes, and that’s what made her so ill.” Chenle’s mom sighed from where she sat next to him on the blue couch, before his father had the opportunity to reply and dig himself into a deeper hole.

“That poor family. We should have them over for dinner.” She announced, standing up, grabbing the still full glass from her husband’s hand as she moved into the kitchen.

“We are not having them over for dinner!” His father shouted from the living room.

“We should have them over for a sit down fancy dinner.” She replied, almost deliberately ignoring him.

“We are not - Hey!” He called out as he heard the buttons on the landline beep with each number his mother punched in.

“I’m sorry, I can’t here you over me inviting them over for- Oh hello, (Y/N), dear.” At the sound of your name, Chenle sank farther into the plush couch seats. He just wanted to watch television in peace.

“Shoot me now.” His dad mumbled.

“Careful what you wish for.” His Grandfather replied, not tearing his eyes from the tv and this time he was the one to ignore the evil look which was shot his way.

And so, dinner with the (Y/L/N)’s was in his imminent future, which only made things more uncomfortable at school. Much like when you had taken that month off in school, he found himself focused on the idea of you more than he had previously. He couldn’t get you out of his head, you and your poor mom. He thought he would apologize for the music thing, you would begrudgingly accept his apology, and you could live the rest of the senior year blissfully ignoring each other’s existents. While you had apparently stayed true to the plan, he couldn’t help the way his eyes drifted to find you in class. He had spent 10 years in the same class as you but he had never noticed how you automatically pulled your bottom lip into your mouth when you were focused on something or the way you smiled to stop yourself laughing when Ryujin mumbled some sort of snarky comment. In the same bout of insanity he had experienced at the beginning of the year, he may have mistaken your smile as being pretty. Except this time the insanity did not melt away into resentment, but instead grew into a roaring monster of butterflies anytime he saw you.

He was starting to think he was sick or something. It was like his whole life had been flipped upside down; in what universe was he the one with the clammy hands and racing heart around (Y/N) (/L/N), and she was the one ignoring him? He needed to talk to someone - and who better than the lord of advice himself, Park Jisung.

Luckily for him, him and Jisung were the first people in their home room class the day of the dinner; usually you were in early, but today you conveniently hadn’t been. “Dude, I need your help.” Chenle emphatically exclaimed, sitting down in his seat next to Jisung before explaining the situation.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)? You hate her. You’ve hated her for 10 years.” Jisung blankly stated, and Chenle shook his head. 

“That’s the thing, I don’t think I do. I can’t stop thinking about her.” Jisung rolled his eyes.

“You definitely hate her. Think about it, you just feel bad because of the mom thing. And you insulted her house, but I mean come on, it was a mess anyways.”

“It’s not her fault. Their family is in crazy amounts of debt because her mom had some sort of untreatable illness and she was sick for so long. Do you know apparently, she had been sick for like 13 years? It must have been torture on their family.” Chenle defended, the stubborn side of him which was declaring, it’s been a decade, why stop hating you now, losing out to this new need to defend you.

“Oh, God, really? Well then, there’s your answer.” Jisung replied, leaning back in his chair with confidence, as though he had just solved the world’s problems. Chenle’s eyebrows knotted together, cocking his head.

“What do you mean?” 

Jisung scoffed, as if it was the most obvious thing since the last advice he had kindly bestowed on Chenle.

“You don’t want to be with someone with that in their family. Dude what if she infects you with it?”

Chenle wanted to hit him. He was certain, he had never before in his life been closer to punching someone and God did Jisung deserve it. How dare he say that? He wanted to tell him that it was much more complex than Jisung’s derogatory simplification of your mother’s illness, and just because Jisung was failing biology did not mean he had the right to be going around and saying things like that about you. He wanted to tell Jisung to keep his stupid opinion to himself, but despite this intense fury he felt searing up his chest, all he could manage was a stiff laugh.

“Oh. Yeah.” He mumbled, not looking at him in case the smug smile which had graced Jisung’s face flipped the switch which would erupt the burning anger in his chest.

You had been running late that day. You liked getting up earlier and beating the traffic to school, now more than ever, with the sullen mood your house had fallen into, although with the dinner with the Zhong family in your near future, the three boys of your house appeared cheerier. Your father was good friends with Mrs. Zhong and she had always been a good neighbor, and your two brothers were old friends with Chenle’s older sister. You were only one against the idea, but realistically, what harm could one dinner do? You had woken up and been ready on time, but when you climbed into your sturdy little jeep and turned the ignition keys, the engine made an unfortunate spluttering sound, that rather sounded like it was simply giving up.

You had taken a stab at fixing it, popping the hood and pretending as though you had a single clue about what to look for, but upon realizing there was no hope you started glancing worriedly back at your house. Surely one of the three people who all knew all to drive would know something about what was wrong with the engine. Biggest problem was, they were all asleep, and if you woke them up, you might have lost a hand. You were heavily considering risking the hand when, by some sort of divine intervention, a familiar voice called out to you.

“Need help?”

You started, spinning to see Mr. Zhong, the familiar and kind old face smiling at you. You hated how similar his smile was to Chenle’s; he was simply a reminder of who you thought Chenle used to be. Nonetheless, you smiled and nodded, gesturing to the hood and taking a step back.

“Please. It’s all yours.”

He worked in silence for a moment, pulling at the machinery inside the bonnet.

“How old is this car?” He asked, and his muffled voice could not disguise the astonishment in his voice.

“Uh, I think the last person to drive it was my Mom, so, that should tell you.” You half joked, awkwardly watching him work until he indicated to you to try again.

You climbed into the car and turned the ignition, and it spluttered again, but this time the spluttering graduated into the unhealthy purring sound you were used to.

You rolled your window down, and called a gracious, ‘thank you!’ out the window, but before you could proceed the short drive to school, the man stopped you, leaning against the side of your car.

“Wait a minute, I want to talk to you about something.” You uncomfortably clutched the steering wheel tighter, raising an eyebrow at him, as if to say, ‘go on.’

“You and Chenle? How’s that going?” He asked, an eyebrow raised in a similar fashion, although his was more teasing where yours was questioning. Your heart leapt as your face warmed.

“Oh - uh. I haven’t really spoken to him since.”

“Oh.” He sounded surprised.

“Why?” You asked, trying to discreetly gulp away your nervousness.

“Oh, he’s just been speaking about you a lot more, is all. Have fun at school.” 

Your five-minute drive to school was the most anxiety ridden drive you had ever experienced. What did he mean speaking about you more? He was asking about your relationship so would that suggest Chenle was saying nice things? Did Chenle maybe like you? Of course, the idea of Chenle having any sort of romantic feelings towards you felt nearly laughable at this point, but this glimmer of hope that had remained from the past ten years that maybe, just maybe, you had finally grabbed the attention of those sweet brown eyes simmered in your chest before you could push it away. He had treated you badly, you reminded yourself. You didn’t need him.

You stormed into school that morning, affirming that you did not need Zhong Chenle in your life, and if he did finally notice you, that was not your problem. But the little girl in you who had walked up to the door of your classroom to overhear Chenle say your name insisted on eavesdropping. And who were you to say no to her?

“... That’s the thing, I don’t think I do. I can’t stop thinking about her.” You couldn’t stop instinctual fluttering of your heart. Chenle couldn’t stop thinking about you. Chenle couldn’t stop thinking about you. Your previous conclusion that he was not more than the sum of his parts was thrown out of the window and replaced with schoolgirl butterflies.

“You definitely hate her. Think about it, you just feel bad because of the mom thing. And you insulted her house, but I mean come on, it was a mess anyways.” You rolled your eyes. Park Jisung was a self-righteous dick.

“It’s not her fault. Their family is in crazy amounts of debt because her mom had some sort of untreatable illness and she was sick for so long. Do you know apparently she had been sick for like 13 years? It must have been torture on their family.” You had never heard him defend you before, and you couldn’t help the small smile which grew on your face.

“Oh, God, really? Well then, there’s your answer.”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t want to be with someone with that in their family. Dude what if she infects you with it?” Your previously elated heart dropped to your stomach as your face fell. Chenle wasn’t going to let him away with that, was he?

“Oh. Yeah.” He was. Zhong Chenle had the perfect knack of getting your hopes up, and just when your heart had warmed to him again, crushing it, and you were sick of it. You spun on your heel, making your way back out to your car without even thinking about it. You didn’t want to have to look at him.

You thought about the situation as you got ready for dinner that night.  You were sick of this stupid game of cat and mouse, where you inevitably always ended up hurt. And thinking back on the past ten years, Chenle had never been a good friend to you. Ever. He gave away your sheet music, he insulted you and now he was talking about you with his friends as if you were some sort of plague just waiting to infect him. You were sick of it and you were sick of him. Zhong Chenle meant nothing to you anymore.

You had half an idea to march out into the hallway where your father was calling you and tell him that you did not want to go, and he couldn’t make you. You drew together pieces of this declaration in your head before firmly making your way into the hall, entirely ready to tell him where the Zhong family could go, but then you saw his face. He had shaved for the first time in a month, the clothes he wore was ironed and smart, and you could have sworn he smelled better than he had in a while. Your previously parted lips closed again and instead of communicating your desire to be anywhere but the Zhong house, the corners turned slightly, mustering up the most sincere smile you could. You could suck up having to sit opposite Chenle for your family - They had gone through so much recently, you thought maybe you could deal with him for another night. 

Your plans to snub him was momentarily interrupted when you realized, as he stomped down the stairs into the entry way of the house, where your family awkwardly hovered, exchanging greetings with the Zhong family, he had worn your favorite jean jacket, white t-shirt and black jeans combo that used to make you melt at the knees. Like always, it made his dark hair seem darker, but you pushed back the bubbling butterflies. What he had done was unforgiveable.

“Why don’t I show you guys my room?” His sister had emphatically exclaimed to your brothers who glanced to your dad. He gave a disinterested shrug, and the three stomped up past where Chenle came from. “Chenle, sweetie, why don’t you bring (Y/N) up to your room? The adults can talk down here.” His mom suggested.

“No, Mrs. Zhong, it’s okay-” You began, but you didn’t get to finish.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, I know you won’t want to be stuck with the adults. Just no funny business!” You ignored the sly comment which Chenle’s dad mumbled under his breath about, ‘that being unlikely,’ and hesitantly made your way up the stairs, following in Chenle’s footsteps. His house was the exact same as yours - sure his stairs didn’t creak from years of you and your brothers abuse , and it was much sleeker - the black and white modern décor juxtaposed greatly with the warm, yellow tones of your own house, plus the fact they obvious could afford to have their carpet replaced with hardwood floors, but other than that, there was nothing spectacularly upper class about their house that would suggest they had any right to look down on yours. 

His room matched his personality to a tee. With grey-white walls plastered with posters of his favorite musicians and athletes whom you didn’t recognize, the room was small but clean and smelt like him. That familiar citrusy scent you associated with him filled the air, and past you would have been intoxicated by him, but current you knew better.

He sat down on top of the checked black and white duvet cover, (little did you know, he was secretly celebrating the fact he had happened to change the Stephen Curry bed sheets the day before) and gestured for you to sit down beside him. You remained standing.

“Uh- Hi.” He greeted, a softness to his voice you didn’t recognize but nearly succeeded in melting the barricade you had placed around your heart. Nearly. You didn’t respond, staring down at your shoes as if, suddenly your vans were the most interesting thing in the world.

“You look really pretty.” There he was again, trying to get your hopes up only to smash them again. You wouldn’t let him. Not this time.

“I know what you and Jisung were saying about my mom. And I’m done with you, okay? You can stop this act now.” You blurted out before you could even stop yourself.

Chenle’s face fell, and his head jerked to the side, almost as if you had genuinely slapped him in the face. He looked like a wounded puppy. Why was it so hard to stay angry at him?

“I- Look, (Y/N), it was wrong what Jisung said, I know. I wanted to hit him.” You raised an eyebrow, which sharpened your features and nearly made Chenle melt, both from the radiating heat of your anger and the sheer attractiveness of the action.

“You didn’t say anything to him. You just agreed and laughed. Like a coward.” You replied, simply.

“Yeah - I know. It was wrong of me. I’m sorry, but look, I’ve had a recent... self-discovery and I like you, (Y/N). If you could just give me a second chance.” He pleaded, standing up to look at you sincerely. His honest, chestnut eyes did not hold the same rotten core you had seen in them a month ago in the charity shop, but you held your ground nonetheless. “Third chance, you mean. Realistically, you don’t know me, and I don’t know you. We’ve lived next to each other for 10 years and we’ve had, what, two civil conversations?” Chenle was the one to look down at his feet now, focusing on the hardwood floors. You weren’t wrong - you didn’t really know each other. You relished in the silence as Chenle thought for a moment, before he mumbled,

“That doesn’t change how I feel about you, though.” 

“Well it should.” 

He opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by his mother’s screaming for them to come to dinner. You had turned and left before he even had the opportunity to draw breath and he was left alone in his empty room, which grey walls that had previously been illuminated with the presence of you had dulled in the absence of your vivacity. 

Dinner was a success for the most part, except for the torture of sitting across from you. He bore holes into the side of your head, but you were so skilled in acting as if he wasn’t there, he was starting to question his actual presence at the dinner table; if it were just you and him sitting there, he would have been convinced he was some sort of ghostly apparition.

“So, you paint, right?” His grandfather had directed toward your dad who nodded politely.

“Yeah, I always loved art and - well I couldn’t afford to go to college so I thought why not kill two birds with one stone and do something I love that I don’t need a college education for.” He replied, the bright look on his face when talking about something he loved was so similar to how you used to look at him that Chenle almost felt sick with guilt.

“And you make much money off of that?” His dad had commented, his knife and fork obnoxiously clinking against the plate. Chenle almost sunk down in his chair.

“I make enough.” Your dad replied, stiffly. He spoke how you spoke to him a mere 15 minutes ago.

“Didn’t you used to like art?” His grandfather had asked, turning to his Dad who shrugged, sipping from his expensive wine glass.

“I painted a little.” Chenle had never seen his dad so uncomfortable.

“No, I remember, you wanted to go to art school, right? But my daughter here talked you out of it.” His dad squirmed in his seat as his mother awkwardly laughed, avoiding the topic entirely and asking your dad another question about his job.

The more your dad discussed his ventures into the world of art, the quieter his dad got. He tried to plaster on a smile every now and then, but underneath, Chenle could tell he was sad. He thought about how his dad had always looked down on your family, and the countless times he had referred to your dad as being ridiculous, a low-life who needed to get a ‘proper job.’ He watched the man who had dwindled his life away and wondered, if he was simply angry at himself, as opposed to the kind family across the street. His father was a coward who didn’t chase what he wanted because he was too scared. Chenle swore to himself there and then, that he would not be a coward, like his father. He refused to become the bitter, jealous old man across the street. And so, late that night, after you had all left, he rifled through the papers on his desk and hatched a plan.

Patience and timing were key elements to Chenle’s plan - A month, to be precise. The day of the Christmas talent show. Everyone was excited to watch Chenle perform, especially now that it had been spread that he was dedicating his performance to someone in the audience. Pretty much everyone in the school who was attracted to boys were praying it was them. All except for you, who still hadn’t spoken to him since that fateful night in his bedroom and had resumed your strategic avoidance of him.

He nervously peaked from the side of the stage of the school theatre which had been transformed from it’s boring wood and red velvet into an explosion of tinsel and fairy lights, the excessive Christmas décor almost hurt his eyes. He stared into the audience past Chaeryong’s skillful dancing on stage, despite her optimistic glances towards him, as he clutched sheet music in his hands. He had enlisted Ryujin’s help to ensure that you were sitting in the very middle of the front row, despite her unwillingness. He had to promise her that if he broke your heart again, she had a free pass at kicking him in a very private place. His attention was only broken from the way you hid a laugh as Ryujin whispered into your ear, by Jisung frantically running up to him, whispering as to not to disturb Chaeryong’s performance.

“Dude! There’s a rumor going around that this mystery chick you’re playing for is (Y/N)?” Chenle simply blinked at him.

“And?”

“Is it true?” 

“Yep.” Jisung threw his arms in the air incredulously, whispering as loud as their setting allowed him,

“What the hell is the matter with you! You have every single girl on campus wanting you and you want (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Chenle spun to stare out into the audience again, turning his back to Jisung. “Leave me alone, Jisung. You wouldn’t understand.” He whispered back, watching and clapping as Chaeryong took her bow, exiting at the other side of the stage.

“You’re right! I completely don’t understand! Have you flipped or something?” Chenle ignored him, breathing out slowly, trying to calm his nerves. 

“This is it.” He mumbled, more to himself than Jisung, ignoring his friend who made a last minute attempt to grab him before he walked on stage.

The entire audience sat with bated breath, you included as he sat down at the piano, almost excruciatingly slowly. You stared at your hands, trying not to look up at the stage because you knew that he was probably about to sing some love song to Chaeryong, since his feelings for you had obviously dissipated since that night, and then they would kiss on stage and everyone would be happy for them. You included. Probably. If you were feeling in a particularly positive mood.

“Um, so I’m sure you all know, that I’m dedicating this performance to someone. Which I am, but I’m not going to say who. Yet. They’ll know who they are.” His smooth voice echoed throughout the entire auditorium, officially piquing your interest as you lifted your head up to look at him. He had already moved to face the piano, his fingers - which were unusually shaking - hovered over the keys as he examined the sheet music in front of him, pressing down the first chord.

Your stomach dropped, the familiarity of the scalic motif he played with his right hand causing you to audibly gasp. You hadn’t heard this piece since you were four. You raised a shaking hand to your mouth, ignoring the way Ryujin was almost definitely staring at you with concern. He had kept the sheet music. You had thought all the time, it was in the back of some shop, never to be played again. But here he was, playing your mother’s music in front of the entire school with pride, his skilful fingers dancing from note to note as if it were as simple as breathing, the music enveloping you in a blanket of comfort.

His playing ended too quickly, finishing with a short section you didn’t recognize and ending on a perfect and harmonious cadence. The audience tentatively applauded, the majority - as in everyone but you and Ryujin - more confused than anything, until he walked to the end of the stage, directly in front of you.

“My favorite color is red.” He stated, looking down at you in your chair.

“Wha - What?”

 “I am the worst loser ever. Seriously, if you play a game with me and you win, I will find ways to blame you for making me lose.”

“Chenle, wha-” “You said you didn’t know me, right? I’m terrified of spiders. I love basketball more than football but I’m better at football. You couldn’t pay me to take science the second it isn’t mandatory anymore. I talk in my sleep. I’m crazy ticklish. I would literally die for Stephen Curry. I’ve been an idiotic dick, for lack of a better word, for the last ten years, and if you let me, I would love the chance to get to know you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face as you stared into those eyes - those once again dazzling eyes which bore into you, no evidence of corruption, the oh-so-familiar sensation of your heart warming to his words blooming in you once again, as if it had never left.

Your smile resonated within him and he questioned what the hell had he been doing the last ten years. How could anyone, ever want to run away from you?

“If you break my heart, Zhong Chenle, you have Ryujin to answer too.”

He chuckled, the sound of his laugh more musical than anything he could’ve produced on stage, and as you watched him, you came to the conclusion that Chenle was more than the sum of his parts, astronomically. You knew that Zhong Chenle was still walking around with your first kiss. But he wouldn’t be for long.

[stevenbasic]

<buzz buzz buzz>

shhhh.

<buzz buzz buzz>

ugh.

<buzz buzz buzz>

That’s...that’s someone texting me.

I was woken by the sound of my phone, the first beams of sun sneaking in through the cheap plastic blinds of my apartment’s small, single window. I was disoriented - what time was it? How long had I been sleeping? I thought I was in my office, on that cot? Anyway, someone was texting me, and…

<buzz buzz buzz>

There it was again, a fourth alert, from a number I didn’t recognize. And it was morning, not quite quarter-to-seven. Swiping into my texts, I immediately saw the photo…

Two of my receptionists, Brittni and Bobbi, Young girls, friends, inseparable. They were here for, uh, jesus-

"were here to pick u up n get u to the hospitall for your rounds"

Oh shit. It's Thursday morning.

Was it Thursday already?!? I was due into the hospital in - oh christ - twenty minutes!

And my - ugh ugh ugh - my car was gone! The facts, the events of the past two days began to settle back into me. It had been taken away by Sheryl, my wife. My wife had taken away my car. In my distress I had torn through the office yesterday morning more or less naked, lap-swaddled by Melissa, lifted, carried and then holy shit basically hand-raped and boob-smothered by the new Eastern European APRN, Morgan. This was all on Wednesday morning. And it was somehow Thursday already?!? How had I slept so long?!? And - who moved me from the cot in my office to here???

Anyway - I didn’t have time to think. I sprang out of bed. I needed to get ready, fast! The ignominy of needing a ride to the hospital this early AM from two of my youngest employees - something arranged, no doubt, by Melissa - was a fact I was going to have to ignore. Shirt, pants - too big. Belt - yikes. Shoes - I’m swimming in them. Was I actually 5’3”?!? Like Morgan measured yesterday? How could this be happening??? No time to be anxious, I’ll figure this out later, I decided, slamming the door to my apartment behind m-

What the hell?

The hallway was sealed off, plywood blocking the way that would have led to the stairs down to the atrium. The construction! Yes! Melissa had said they were working to tear down most of the second floor and - jesus - there were the new, small stairs, spiral, that would lead me down…

In the near-dark of the early morning I made it down, through Melissa’s silent office, and - the front entrance, also sealed - out through a side door. I was confused, disoriented. Holy shit what was happening to this place?! My practice?!

Hurriedly making my way out, finally, to the front parking lot, I found the two girls in Brittni’s white minivan, pulled up to the curb.

“hiiiiiiii….!” they sang in unison, turned from their front seats to watch me enter as I slid open the passenger’s side back door and hopped in. Their smiles were huge, delighted, and it smelled nice in the car.

“Good morning,” I answered, struggling to slam shut the door behind me, “thanks for doing this…”

“Seat belt…?” Bobbi suggested, brows raised expectantly.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” I agreed, clicking myself in, looking around the cabin a bit as we began to pull away  “Nice…van.”

“It’s my family’s?” Brittni answered, turning out of the lot onto the main drag. I felt a quick, small pang of nausea hit me, like car sickness.

I shook it off.

Excited, the girls talked non-stop as we drove, Brittni with her eyes on the road or watching me in the rearview, Bobbi turned in her seat the whole time to face me. Both girls were dressed in jeans and black tops, showing - yikes - more cleavage than I’d seen in either one of them before. I did my best not to look down at Bobbi’s inviting chest, or steal glances at Brittni’s curvy profile. They were young - what? Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one? - but double yikes. Had they always been built like this??

It was thankfully a short drive to the small community hospital where I saw my patients, maybe about ten minutes. But throughout the whole thing they were giddy, giggly, obviously tickled pink by their assignment of chauffeuring me to work and amused that it was just after sunrise and they were driving their boss around since his wife had taken away his car. Their eyes glittered merrily, their smiles wide and white.

For myself I did my best to sit straight, look confident, speak clearly. My rumpled, oversized clothes and messy hair might not have helped matters; I’d gotten myself dressed and ready in all of three minutes and it showed. But, I hoped I could keep up at least some airs of professionalism in this otherwise totally demeaning situation. I needed to remain an authority figure, as best I could, to my young employees. I’d thought I was doing okay, keeping up with the light conversation which was - at the very least - thankfully distracting me from thoughts of yesterday, or how I was going to return to work at the office without melting from the humiliation. Two of my new employees - Shanette and then Morgan - had had their ways with me in less than the span of twenty-four hours. And that was notwithstanding the fact that I’d spent time cradled in my office manager’s lap. Oh my god what was happening??

In a brief moment of quiet, as Bobbi and Brittni tittered between themselves over something, I took the chance to gaze out the window. I thought about the office, remembering the hallways, the breakroom, Melissa’s couch. Aside from the humiliation I was beginning, for some reason, to feel a little...homesick? Thinking I shouldn’t be leaving, driving further away. It made me feel funny, like I was doing something wrong. Another brief wave of nausea hit me; I took a deep breath and stopped looking out the window. Settle down, I told myself, but couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. A deep breath - smelling of the girls, that new perfume - helped.

Before I knew it, though, we were pulled up to the front entrance of the hospital and Bobbi and Brittni were waving me goodbye, each smiling out the passenger’s side window as I gathered myself and stepped onto the sidewalk.

“Byeeeeee…!” they both sang, giggling as I hurried away. Thankfully I’d remembered my briefcase. “We’ll pick you up here at eleven..!” I heard Bobbi call after me.

Inside the front entrance, I stopped. I heard the sliding doors close off behind me, and I took another deep breath. There was that nausea again. Get it together, J.

Rounds. My Thursday mornings had, for years, consisted of me visiting my patients in their rooms: the diabetics, the stroke victims, the heart failures. Those that had been brought in as emergencies or ones that I’d admitted myself over the past weeks. Part of me always enjoyed rounds, seeing my patients in a different environment than the office, helping coordinate their care. I also liked the staff at the hospital, and had grown friendly with many of the nurses, receptionists and other physicians.

But, right off the bat, my visit this week went weirdly. Aside from the now-frequent waves of nausea, I was acutely aware of the stares. If I’d had hopes that no one would notice that I looked small, pale and weak, that my clothes didn't fit, that I was basically a shrunken mess - well, I was sadly mistaken. Not that much was mentioned, at first, but I’m sure they all saw how I was making mistakes, unable to concentrate, dropping things and stumbling over my words. It took one of my patients, though, about halfway through the morning as I visited him in his hospital bed, to speak the unspoken; “Where’s my real doctor?!” the old man croaked out, “This guy’s just a kid!!”

The two nurses in the room - each taller than me but somehow holding their tongues - turned to me. I began to stammer something, began to try to explain, but was immediately clenched with another grip of nausea, the worst yet. “Excuse me…” I asked, and rushed from the room.

I made it as far as the floor’s breakroom before I had to vomit in a sink.

===========================

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