#and yeah my mom was awful to him but he was everyone else’s favorite and there were so many people enabling his hobbies and such

[makkie-is-screaming]

I hate how many opportunities I didn’t get because I was a girl and no one cared about me enough to help me

[oh-no-its-bird]

Similar fic idea to One Step Three Steps, but instead of some random Hatake brat being zapped into modern Konoha from the very early days of the village, it was actually the at the time Hatake Clan Head.

I'm gonna go with the Hatake family tree I tossed into Chasing Shadows for fun, meaning a) the clan head is named Haruka, and b) she's Sakumo's mother (thus Kakashi's grandmother) and Tobirama's aunt

She died very shortly after Tobirama (like a week tops) and the rest of her clan was wiped out pretty soon after her.

(Sakumo was raised by the only other survivor of the clan, an old grandma with poor memory who hadn't been in any state to fight, and who later passed away when Sakumo was still pretty young— so he learned very little about their clan and their traditions, and then passed on even less to Kakashi before he died)

I have literally nothing else for her other than the above, so I guess we'll figure out her character together as we go along

With that said, this is gonna be a long one, so buckle in for

✨️ The Hatake clan head time travels from early to modern Konoha ✨️

Immediately, there's just so much potential pretty much anywhere you drop her into the timeline.

Lets take her from the very first years of Konoha, where they're still lowkey building the village and Madara is still around (bc I love the drama of the time traveler respecting Madara only for the future people to be like "oooo... ok, so bad news actually— Also, you legally aren't allowed to talk good about him for military dictatorship reasons, sorry :(" )

And then we're gonna drop her into kid Kakashi era, with Sakumo still being alive

Right off the bat -> That's Sakumo's fucking mom!!!! Holy shit you guys!!! The last time she saw him he was like a literal infant she JUST recovered from birthing AND NOW HES A WHOLE MAN!!!!

Shes grabbing him by the cheeks squishing him to death, there may be baby talk involved (he's a grown man let him go oh my god??)

If she comes before his mission gone wrong, her presence prevents him from going on it (disaster averted,,, for now) He's currently in the running for most likely to become next Hokage and she's so disgustingly proud holy shit. Her baby!!! Hokage!!!

Maybe have some talk about how that'd make either 3 or 2 Hatake's in office depending on if you count Hashirama as a Hatake (Haruka does not) and how that's kind of bad, right? Only Haruka doesn't give a SHIT about that (politicians hate her and shed hate them too if she didn't enjoy making them suffer so much)

"But Haruka, as clan head aren't you a politician too by default?"

"Haha yeah!! Isn't that awful? (For all of them)"

If she comes AFTER the dreaded mission gone wrong, Haruka is all about backing up his decision (the Hatake are a clan who emphasize loyalty like no other, which is also part of why they took to Konoha's mentality so well)

Shes telling Sakumo he did the right thing and fuck literally everyone who says otherwise. Trust your momma Sakumo, she knows best

Her being there averts Sakumo's death— either bc she manages to keep him going, or bc she interrupts him mid suicide

(I can see Sakumo trying to go through with it specifically bc he thinks at least Kakashi has Haruka now once he's gone)

Also oh my god SAKUMO YOU HAD A BABY??? SHE HAS A GRANDBABY???? AWWW CMERE LITTLE GUY LET GRANDMA GIVE YOU A SMOOCH— OHHH SAKUMO LOOK AT HOW HE STABBED ME OHH WHAT A GOOD BOY, WHAT A CUTE BABY BOY!! CMERE BABY— OHH SAKUMO LOOK HES BITING ME AWWW THATS SO CUTE!! WHOS A GOOD GRANDBABY?? WHOS A GOOD GRANDBABY?? (said like she's talking to a fucking dog)

Kakashi kind of hates her.

There's like a whole big bit about the Hatake clan bloodline limit, which is sort of general wolfy stuff, enhanced senses, some extra strength, etc. And my all-time favorite take, adaptation ✨️

Their white chakra is super flexible, able to adapt and change to fit pretty much any situation —or even other bloodline limits. (Which is why Kakashi not only survived the sharingan implant but came to arguably master it)

Anyways -> other than the white chakra (which neither Sakumo or Kakashi know the details of other than it's their family chakra and its,, white. Exciting, I know), their bloodline limit seems to have borderline dissapeared with Kakashi and Sakumo, due to basically them not knowing how to feed into it / activley supressing it to conform to polite society (unaware that certain impulses aren't actually just intrusive thoughts but actual instinct trying to get them to do things necessary to feed into and reawakened their bloodline limit)

Kakashi actually shows more hints of still having it bc of his age, while Sakumo is very well practiced in accidentally supressing it to conform with general society.

So obviously, Haruka is like "hey guys!! What the actual fuck is this!!" and immediatley (borderline desperatley) trying to get them back to her perceived normal

She's actually REALLY fucked up about all this. Her own son!! Her own grandbaby!! And they don't even eat enough MEAT!!!! This is an actual nightmare, this is like basic baby stuff all the Hatake's should know and she's getting nothing but blank looks and vuagley ashamed guilty stares from Sakumo as she asks if he even takes Kakashi on hunts (he didn't even know that was a thing he should be doing.)

Don't even get her started when she learns Sakumo isn't acting as clan head on the Konoha clan council, holy shit. The Hatake might be a clan of 2 now but they were among the first clans to come to Konoha— she doesn't give a shit how many of them are left, if the number is more than 1 then there better be a fucking representative of theirs on that goddamn council

Funny bit where Kakashi tries to bite someone and Sakumo is telling him to stop bc jesus christ child can you behave for 5 seconds oh god he's so sorry— and Haruka is like, why are you telling him to stop??? This is enrichment for him :)) if there's no blood it's fine, that's the official clan policy for dealing with kids

Haruka... isn't actually a very good choice to leave as your babysitter. If nothing is on fire and no one is dead she considers herself successful.

Sakumo will learn this. In time.

Mmmm bad ending where Sakumo goes through with the suicide. Could be very fun and fucked up n dramatic.

Kakashi doesn't find his father's body first bc Haruka does— or maybe he does but Haruka walks in right behind him and forces him to close his eyes before he can actually see the body.

Fun scene where Haruka is physically wrestling Kakashi away from his father's body, a hand over his eyes as he screams and claws at her, demanding that she let go and let him see his dad.

Can't she smell the blood!? Tou-san is hurt, he needs help! What are you doing!!? Let him go!! Tou-san, Tou-san, where are you? Why aren't you answering?!

He bites her hand in his struggles, so deep that it later scars (just another reminder of the day, oh boy !!)

Haruka getting hit by the fucking brick of reality, straight in the face. She got to meet her son, the only survivor of their clan from her era, just in time for him to die <3

The fic then takes a HARD turn from the silly fluffy fun times of Haruka goofing around telling people to suck her dick if they have a problem with her (which a lot of people definitely do)

-> Right into shinobi politics, political schemes and sabotaged missions and buried clan history galore territory. Haruka isn't ab to take this lying down and everyone's about to get their first look at a grieving Hatake mother in her prime who just lost her baby to the shinobi rumor mill

Before she was kind of keeping to herself just having fun in the clan compound, not reeeally getting involved with any politics or village shit, bc like, she's playing with her family!! This is like her vacation till the time travel is solved and she goes back home!!

But she's not doing that anymore.

Sakumo is gone and Haruka is more than willing to take the seat he chose to leave empty at the clan council. She's about to become EVERYONES problem.

In the bg, Kakashi VIOLENTLY swings between fucking hating Haruka ("You should have stopped him! You should have been there! You should have helped!") to being like, physically unable to be unatached from her (she's waking up in the middle of the night to find him suddenly burrowed into her blankets, holding on to her like he's scared she'll dissapear when he wakes up)

Small soft scene where he's sleeping on top of her and quietly whispers that he's sorry for biting her.

Haruka possibly tries to have Kakashi temporarily drop his training but it's a very hard battle to fight. Both bc Kakashi wants to fight and bc Konoha wants him to fight

Uhh first big scary Haruka politics scene when she puts her foot down and says something along the lines of, "are you telling me here and now that my word as Hatake clan head is not enough to stop Konoha from taking away my child?" And Sarutobi kind of has to back down bc that does NOT fly well with the other clans

Obito and Rin swing by and try to pry at why Kakashi can't fight and she just fucking stares at them and goes, "He's 6."

She goes home and puts her head in her fucking hands. She was promised Konoha was to keep the kids SAFE, that's the entire fucking reason the Hatake agreed to join!!! This is not safe Tobirama, you bitch!!!!! If they send out Kakashi to die, shes going to find your fucking ghost and grind your face into Kakashi's grave!!!!

Anyways, time for my favorite part: politics

Haruka is coming from the early days of Konoha, where the only reason the Hatake even joined the village was, "because my cute little nephew (Tobirama) asked us real nice"

In her mind, she and her clan are still allowed to back the fuck up out of the village whenever she so chooses. She likes it in Konoha, yeah, but they're still free reign nomads and while she'd like to stay and have her clan flourish (which they didn't exactly do and she can literally SEE the way the village destroyed them from the inside out) she and her clan retain the right to leave whenever they want. And if they do leave, other than losing the new friends, it won't exactly be hard on them to get back to the nomad life.

All of that is to say that Sarutobi isn't her Hokage and while she'll be nice and respectful bc she recognizes the position (and her position) when push comes to shove, there's literally nothing they can hold on her to make her bend or break.

Also the last time she saw Sarutobi he was one of her nephews little brat tag-alongs, and she's so fucking bad at treating people their age, doubly so if she knew them as a kid.

It's,,, kind of demeaning actually, she should stop. (She will not.)

Anyways: play into her not just being Tobirama's aunt but also Hashirama's (her sister was their mother) which becomes fun bc Kakashi is her fucking grandkid!! Meaning he's also their fucking cousin!! Politics!! Implications!!!

At least one person is making a "of fucking course the boy genius is related to one of them" joke but like in an angry way (it's probably Obito)

Anyways I started this off with basically nothing for Haruka other than her name and I think she accidentally turned into a real character along the way (inevitable tbh)

Shes a DEEPLY flawed person actually, which I kind of love. She has a habit of belittling people and not treating them their age (absoloutley calls everyone even slightly younger than her 'kid')

Her views of childcare are totally skewed and she should not be trusted with any children other than Kakashi (it's ok he's literally built different, she can provide proper enrichment for him)

Edit: I DIDNT FUCKING MEAN TO POST THIS YET IM GONNA KILL MYSELF I WAS STILL QRITING IM GONNA END IT ALL TUMBLR I HATE YOU I HATE YOU

Shes so fucking full of herself and about to make it EVERYONES problem

[sixosix]

when was it? (when we fell in love)

isagi yoichi x gn!reader, fluff, 2 + 1 fic

you and isagi have been side-by-side for longer than you learned how to walk, and everyone just accepted that you two have been dating. wanting a more romantic approach to tell, you both begin reminiscing to pinpoint a moment in your lives that you two liked the other.

maybe it started when isagi bought a stuffed toy modeled after him.

he knocks, sweaty and smiling when you answer the door. satisfaction rolls off of him in waves, and it doesn’t take an eye like his to figure out who won.

isagi when he’s still riding the high of his adrenaline is a dangerous one. he doesn’t shy away from touch and his eyes are sharp enough to make a criminal freeze. when he pulls you in for a hug, his heavy breathing next to your ear, you ignore the flutter in your chest. he’s just excited, nothing else.

“good game?” you ask, using the towel draped over his shoulders to wipe sweat off his brow.

his eyes screw shut, smiling. “yeah.”

when he frees you from his grasp, you quickly dash back to the kitchen, hoping he didn’t hear the way your pulse jumped when his fingers brushed against your waist. the warmth lingers, enough to make you feel it on your face.

“sorry for the intrusion,” isagi says, and tugs his shoes off.

he always places it right next to your favorite pair of sneakers. on the left, close enough to each other for you to start feeling strange about the sight of it.

you watch him toss his backpack on the couch, and barely miss the moment his face lights up out of the blue.

“hey!” isagi calls out, scrambling back to get to his bag and rummaging through it.

“what’s wrong?”

he plucks out a cotton-stuffed little thing, holding it next to his face and matching the stern expression sewn on.

your jaw drops open a little. “is that an isagi plushie?”

his eyes twinkle. “yes.”

and then throws it straight to your face. with your hands held out from surprise, it collides gently on your nose and slides right off and into your palm. isagi laughs under his breath, apologizing insincerely.

“oh,” you breathe, holding the plushie up to your face.

its blue eyes are wide and innocent despite its expression, as if in awe of you holding it by its little torso. it fits snug in your palm, and you find yourself unable to toss it away.

with a smile you’re unable to keep off your mouth, you turn to face isagi, who’s wearing an unreadable expression on his face.

“you’re giving it to me?”

isagi freezes, cheeks bursting with color. “i bought it for you.”

oh.

“i promise to keep it safe and always with me.” and you’re very serious about it.

“i have no doubt about it,” isagi laughs, his voice soft in a way you’ve never heard before.

oh, you think. his eyes crinkle at the sides, grinning with all teeth and sunshine.

so this is what they mean.

isagi clears his throat, visibly flustered with the pink on his face. it’s near impossible to hide when he’s lying on your lap all comfortably like a cat. “that’s when you think it started?” he shakes his head. “that was only a few weeks ago.”

“w-well it wasn’t like i was that smart to realize,” you argue, huffing. petulantly: “when did you think yours happened?”

isagi’s nose scrunches in a way where you know he’s holding back from the truth. “when you… wore my jersey?”

you give him a blank stare. “don’t be lame, yoichi.”

isagi’s mouth twists, turning away. “when you gave me the ring.”

“i gave you a ring?”

isagi hides his face on your thigh, and keeps his face hidden there. “…when we were six. you found a ring on the bottom of your drawer and gave it to me because your mom said you should only give a ring to someone you love.”

“oh, i wish i don’t remember now,” you say, taken back.

“and i wore it every day because i was proud, but it stopped fitting any of my fingers, so i asked my mom to make it into a necklace for me instead,” isagi murmurs fondly, his fingers reaching out to pull a black string from under his collar and reveal a round little thing.

you laugh in disbelief. “oh, wow. you still kept it all this time?”

it’s tiny, not even a fit for either of your pinkies, proof of its old existence. although the color has washed out, it looks well-kept for a ring that age. like isagi cleaned it every day without fail.

“you can be so sweet sometimes,” you coo, pinching his cheek.

he huffs. “you’re saying i’m not sweet most of the time?”

but that could be a lie, isagi thinks, watching you laugh and continue to play with his hair, recalling more moments that you could have fallen for someone like him. like he deserves someone like you.

his head tips, chasing after your touch, and your smile is more rewarding.

maybe there wasn’t a grand moment one day, where he wanted to kiss you and put a ring on your finger (too) someday. it was just a gradual realization to the point where he could look back to those moments and think that yeah, he’s always been in love.

even before the plushie you keep beside your pillows, before the time his teammates pointed out that you are the most disgusting couple and they’re happy for him. even before when you wore his jersey and his heart skipped a few beats, or before the ring he refused to take off.

he was born into this world, and so were you. you two met, and puzzles just clicked into place.

isagi always looked at you and thought: “yes, this is the person i want to spend my life with.” not a single moment in time, but every day of his life.

isn’t that romantic enough?

yk those oikawa plushies that ppl love to torture for some reason (and i eat that up every time its so funny) on that godforsaken app??? YEAH. i like to think that y/n said to take care of it but they’re tossing it in the washing machine and recording the way it spins around in ridiculous speed 

[yuridovewing]

How did you make Rainflower worse? I'm really interested.

Rubs my hands together. I made that woman RANCID (Putting this under the cut because I predict it’ll get long and I wanna throw up a CW for abuse of power, child abuse, victim blaming, humiliation, and ableist abuse. Also disclaimer: haven’t reread Crookedstar’s Promise in a minute, and I want to, so this is subject to change)

Razorverse Rainflower… or as she’s properly called… Rainstar.

Just gonna plagiarize @/bonefall’s structure and stuff here lmaooo. Gonna list what I don’t care for about the canon version, what I’d like to do but am not sure how to go about it exactly, and what I know I want to do.

Canon:

-So, Rainflower. We all know her, she’s The Bad Mom. The one who renamed her son something ableist for the purpose of humiliating and disowning him. The one who never apologized, barely made any attempts to support him further, and fucked up Crookedstar’s self esteem and drove him into Mapleshade’s claws.

-I don’t have an issue with her being portrayed like this at all. Rainflower herself, as she’s presented in the book in a vacuum, is fine. I’m very anti “oh lets never talk about serious topics in kids content” because that’s an easy slippery slope into book banning to me. Her actions are portrayed as horrific, and if I remember correctly, Crookedstar doesn’t forgive her. No reconciliation. With several kids properties (and WC itself if we’re being honest) making plotlines about how you have to forgive your abuser or you suck, that’s honestly sort of refreshing. You’re not obligated to forgive your mother because she’s your mother. Fuck that. The ableism adds a whole extra layer to this as well because while I don’t remember specific caretaker abuse in the book, plenty of victims have spoken up about relating to Crookedstar. She really is the recipe for an intentionally awful character.

-That being said… man, it’s kinda weird how this random ass queen apparently has the power to rename her child something derogatory in the eyes of their god and the leader who is in charge of all this is like “yeah sure okay”, and everyone else is like “oughhh that bites! ah well though what can ya do? sorry infant, we’re cool with calling you a slur forever” and that is never addressed or seen as weird and we’re supposed to love all these other characters and see them as role models for Crookedkit.

-It makes RiverClan look Pretty Bad, Dude. Which would be cool if it was intentional-there’s actually a line in Cats of the Clans that implies Crookedstar struggled because of societal expectations, not just his mom’s disowning. I kinda wanna reincorporate that. Like, Rainflower isn’t just One Bad Mom, she’s a product of her environment, she has a clique of cats that think just like her.

-Also… while I don’t think this is necessarily a bad thing in a kids book, yeah, Rainflower is pretty flat. Not completely- my best friend read the book recently and he actually made a great point that Rainflower’s kind of a bad mom even before the accident because she brags and brags about her kids, but doesn’t really look out for them, which makes them get hurt. She thinks her kids fart rainbows until one of them makes her look bad, after which she disowns and treats him poorly. But aside from that… there’s not much to her. She gives birth in a storm and has sentimental names because of that, she is a doting mama until she isn’t, and you could also say she’s vain.

-Again- all that is perfectly fine.

-But… and this may read as a little controversial to the fandom crowd… I like to add a bit more meat to abusive characters.

-Not necessarily by making them sympathetic, although that’s one way to do it if done properly and with the tact and attention it deserves.

-But I want to make them read more like people. People who have families and friends, who have hobbies and favorite foods and silly weekly routines. Who have fears and anxieties, who care deeply for the ones they love. Who are charming and well liked.

-Because abusers are not identifiable at a distance. They’re not always obvious. They’re not ugly, or constantly acting like douchebags.

-A lot of abuse falls under the rug because of the abuser’s status in reality. A man that beats his wife could have his family rally behind him because… well, they grew up with him. That’s not who he TRULY is. What did the wife do to provoke him? No no, this man also has an important job, he has a lot of connections and people willing to stick up for him. “I’ve talked to him before and he was just the nicest man! He would never do anything like that. Maybe he was just having a hard day. His job is so hard, you know!”

-A mom who stalks and beats her kids? Well, she’s so sweet in public! She tutors the neighbors kids, you can’t possibly expect us to believe she’s hurting her own! They must be problem children anyways if she has to keep her eye on them.

-That aunt who emotionally abuses her nespring? Well, she’s got such an important job higher up and she has connections (and eyes) everywhere! There’s no escape no way you could expect us to believe that such a helpful person could be so cruel!

-(And in cases of romantic relationships there is typically victim blaming in this line of thinking. “How did you not know they were abusive? Surely you noticed SOME of the signs? You’re not innocent here. You chose this. You can’t expect me to be sympathetic.” This doesn’t apply to Rainflower, but since I’m talking about fandom abuse, I think it’s worth a mention.)

-These people can’t be abusers. Because they’re human. They’re loved. And if that’s true… doesn’t that mean you and I are also capable of abuse? That people we know and trust in real life could be abusive? People we look up to? No, no. Of course not. Abusers aren’t human. And as long as we slot them as inhuman entities, as Other, that means we could never become like that. Ever. Anyways, I just got done rewatching all the silly pirate movies, he’s so funny and charming! How could that evil inhuman bitch EVER think he abused her? She is a demon who should rot in hell for making me feel bad about my best celebrity friend. She should’ve just put up and shut up.

-(Really hope it’s obvious, but I know what fandom I’m talking to, so I’m gonna slap an /S here for that whole paragraph)

-And I can’t help but see parallels of that when I look at fandom and you have people going “you’re an abuse apologist if you think this abusive character had a backstory or motive!” or “This comic is bad because it portrays an abuser as having a pleasant relationship with their sibling!”

-The reality is that no one is born evil. No one crawls out the womb ready to commit war crimes or whatever, no matter what Warrior Cats tries to tell you.

-A big thing that allows abuse to fester is power. Familial abuse is so common because the children are under the care of the adults around them that have every right over their autonomy. Becoming a parent is to have power over a small, vulnerable person… and so of course, that creates an environment where the adults are practically welcome to take advantage of that.

-Of course someone might not notice their friend is a child abuser. Their friend probably doesnt have intoxicating power over them, so they don’t see that behavior. And if that friend somehow does hold power over them… well, all the more reason not to rock the boat, right?

-Okay I’m rambling at this point so let’s bring it back to Rainflower. I’ve seen a couple people try to flat out woobify her, which is something I don’t particularly care for personally, but it’s led people to be kinda volatile to those who do try to add… More, to Rainflower. “Oh, you must do that because you don’t think her abuse is that bad!” Even when that’s not at all what people are saying.

-Rainflower isn’t real. The way she’s handled resonates with people, and that IS real, and should be respected. (Again- I’m not saying it’s bad to portray her as pure evil. I’m sure that’s liberating for some people who grew up with a parent like her! Different strokes for different folks)

-But that doesn’t mean we’re not talking about fiction at the end of the day, and no, we are not toning down abuse by daring to ask why Rainflower is the way she is.

-And that’s what I’m gonna ask.

What I’d Like to Do:

-So, Rainstar is leader now. That’s my answer to the awkward way the original renaming is handled.

-I like readings where she’s thoroughly punished, or that Hailstar was biased in her favor and had to be humbled for it later. But I felt particularly spiteful about the “Listen to your leader no matter what or you’re a heathen!” law they’ve only recently let up on (only to mock the change if I’m reading it right) and I was like. Actually let’s play around with that.

-The idea here is that Rainstar is someone who uses her power to abuse those around her. She doesn’t really need to be leader to abuse Stormkit, she has structural power over him as his mother and a warrior, but I wanted her to be leader because… jesus christ can you imagine having your abusive parent be your leader as well? The one who decides what route you take in the clan? Who has autonomy over you for battle patrols? Who can humiliate and punish you with no repercussions? Where your clanmates sticking up for you could be systematically punished for doing do?

-I still need to figure out the timeline here. If she dies at the same time as in canon, how long this goes on for, all the cats that are Team Crookedjaw or Team Rainstar, etc. I’d like him to still have good moments to breathe in between all this, like Brambleberry is still important and advocates for him a lot, his friendship with Willowbreeze and his brotherhood with Oakheart, the barn cats are still helpful to him after he returns. I do think she dies relatively early though. Crookedstar becomes a leader very young.

-Basically though, the idea is that Rainstar is a perfectionist that’s intoxicated on power. Growing up, she seemed to be a perfectly kind warrior. She and Shellheart were a great couple and she was excellent friends with Hailstep and Echomist, even if she could have a competitive streak.

-But… her grandfather was Appledusk. Who died at the serial killer Mapleshade’s claws before he met his kits. Who was also a codebreaker, and implied to have not been the best mate to Reedshine.

-Though the clan forgave him, there was a pressure on his lineage to not repeat his mistakes. After all, if he never had an affair with Mapleshade (broke our wonderful code!) this may not have happened.

-Applefrost and Duskwater made it as top standard warriors, with Duskwater having been deputy before she retired. There wasn’t a single blemish on their records.

-Rainflower felt this pressure throughout her life. She felt confined to clan life, doing whatever she was told. If she was told to jump, she asked how high. She was perfect. A model warrior for the apprentices to look up to. Always smiling and happy to join patrols, attend festivals, taste test meals, etc. She was just what she needed to be… with no room to breathe. No room to fail.

-And of course, because she’s just a cat, she did fail. Like taking too much food at mealtime. Or falling asleep during her vigil. And when she did, it was scandalous. She was berated by her former mentor and parents, cats whispered about how clumsy she was, how she probably couldn’t be leader after all.

-Rainflower would recover, as would her reputation. She climbed the ranks with a raised head and tail. Never faltering if she could help it. Gathering several loyal supporters.

-When she finally became leader though, it was like some of the pressure gave way. She still followed the code, still did her part, she was still exceedingly popular and was responsible for very smart negotiations with the other clans, even managing to work through a sturdy alliance with Heatherstar.

-But… she had more agency atop her clan. Sure, she still couldn’t fail, not ever. But if she had to, say, give a warrior humilating tasks for speaking to her in a tone she didnt like, she could. If her mate and deputy, Shellheart, did something she didn’t like, she could leverage her power over him, with the clan’s support even.

-It was only a matter of time before things got worse… When Oakkit and Stormkit were born. Duskwater died in the storm around the same time they took their first breath. Applefrost had died years prior. Rainstar took pride in her kittens, but the pressure was on once again- never fail. Don’t make us look bad. Don’t make me look bad. If you fail, then I have failed.

-And when Stormkit cracks his jaw that fateful day, he failed. She failed.

-She saw him as a humiliation. Something to be ashamed of. Perfect Rainstar’s son, disfigured.

-When Brambleberry informed her that he would be permanently disabled from now on, resentment began to brew. Even though Stormkit was still healing, she became colder and harsher to him. Propping up Oakkit as her golden child, her winnings. And putting down Stormkit as her failure, something to be ashamed of.

-She essentially dehumanizes Stormkit (and Oakkit to an extent). They are extensions of her. They are something to be idolized. They are something to throw around when you need to release stress. And that’s just what she does when she renames him Crookedkit and decides to keep him a kit forever.

-He doesn’t even get the privilege of being an elder. Elders gave something to their clan and are honored and supported since they’re frail now. Crookedkit didn’t do anything worthy, he acted like a child, and ruined himself, so he gets to stay a child. Forever.

-Crookedkit was unfortunately subject to a lot of public humiliation and pressure during this time. (I’m wondering if Shellheart still dumps Rainstar here. Their mateship is dead either way, but he also probably still tries to suck up to her to keep his deputyship. Kinda torn on whether he flipflops between supporting Crookedjaw or Rainstar because of it… Leaning towards him being just on Crooked’s side, but I also like him having to be a tiebreaker between Brambleberry and Rainstar)

-When Crookedkit is denied his apprentice ceremony for several moons, he runs away to the barn, where he gets properly trained. This is a wip, I wanna reread the book and see how they handle this in canon, but these cats stick around for the rest of his life. Bonefall even had one go back with him in Better Bones, so I think I may take a page out of his book and do that too. (Maybe with a different cat though lol) They remain a support system for him.

-Oakpaw also deals with similar pressure, as well as his mom worshipping him (and knowing he’ll be humiliated like his brother if he “fails”). As a form of escapism, once Crookedkit runs away, he repeats history and starts a secret friendship with Bluepaw, the troublemaker ThunderClan apprentice.

-There is that divide in the clan still. Several cats were indeed outraged at Crookedkit’s treatment… but what can they do? Rainstar will punish them if they help. And she has more supporters than not, for one reason or another, whether it’s her former mentor (undecided, he’s an elder I think) or her friend Hailstep. All of which vouch for her, claiming she has the right to handle her son and clanmate the way they want. And besides… he can’t even eat right, how will he be uuuuusefullllllllll

-Oh yeah there’s also the whole “this society is pretty ableist and is unaccommodating to disabled people” thing. Crookedkit struggles to eat! He deals with pain in his jaw all the time, he slurs his words and cant pronounce certain things. Like in canon, he finds support for this in the barn, not in the clan.

-After he comes back for some reason or another (WIP), he’s nearly full grown and imposing, and now that hes uuuuusefullllllllll (so now he’s ok) Rainstar does relent and let him be an apprentice. But his apprenticeship is long and grueling. She refuses to let him go to gatherings, she constantly attacks him over his training and hunting, she gets pissed if a border patrol sees him, she has him perform tasks that upset his jaw (like helping with construction).

-Crookedpaw is freed, however, when dogs are found in the territory. The two major losses? Shellheart and Rainstar. The deputy and leader.

-And a squirrel with a crooked jaw was found on the freshkill pile.

-(with a note that say “Shadey says hi!!! xoxo kys”)

-To say this caused outrage would be an understatement. Crookedpaw would be going from apprentice to leader! He’s underqualified! Forget not having an apprentice- he’s been one for years!

-But. StarClan’s will can’t be denied, Brambleberry says. (Unsure how much she Knows.)

-So Crookedpaw becomes Crookedstar. A false prophet leader.

-From there I think he’s like a proto Onestar? No civil war but he does deal with a ton of pressure and the psychological weight of having to lead the cats who enabled his mom to hurt him. Still figuring out how he was a leader… but he is kinder to his family. He vows to never leverage his power over Silverkit, ever.

Other Stuff I’d Like to Change But I Dunno How:

-God I hate the ableist names so tbh I’d like to nix that here. Make Crookedstar an honor title like in BB (I really like honor titles so I wanna try them out myself) But I don’t quiiite know how to make it work in this context.

-I think I’ve said this before but I want Mapleshade to have haunted Rainstar too. Maybe put some ideas in her head and made her insecurities worse. My only thing is that I dunno how much influence Mapleshade has at that point. I think Crookedstar was where she upped her game and got more power.

Okay if you read all of this, bless you, thank you <3 this took me a minute so I appreciate it. Also if anyone has any tips or criticism I’d welcome them! Especially on all the abuse talk, some of it came from my own feelings and experiences but I would hate if I funked up the wording or misunderstood something. We’re all capable of harm after all and I am not exempt from that. Also if any of the talk was upsetting, I’ll go reblog some kitten pics as a detox.

[pastriibunz]

me and @local-soda-can are gonna start outlining Nerdy Prudes Must Die Kai soon and here are a few ideas I had for that

can you guys tell i love inserting Kai’s name into the titles???

Kai comes in before/after/during literal monster holding a map of the school (the police or something forcibly enrolled her and now she has to go to school) and she’s just completely confused and lost

Max does the whole “this is my hallway!!” thing and Kai’s like “fun fact I literally do not care” and he pisses her off so much she kicks him in the balls- she meets the rest of the prudes while on the run from various teachers who’re trying to expel her or something

Kai was in the Waylon Place night of the prank to try and relax and get away from the chaos of Hatchetfield. There isn’t a sign of anyone breaking in bc Kai knows how to pick locks. Kai hangs out there a lot.

She walks in on them looking at Max’s (almost) dead body and is like “woah you guys killed that guy!!! ö haha I’m gonna go call the cops on yall I’m OUT!!!”

…Grace then blackmails her into helping bury/hide the body because she threatens to pin everything on Kai (bc Kai breaks in and shit)

Theres this scene with max and kai im making into a comic that has something to do with snickers and it needs to be real because it’s silly and also it makes way for this idea:

Kai hangs out with Max’s ghost a lot and she vents to him about how much she hates the prudes, how she wants to get back to Unington, and other shit

They like sending videos to the prudes group chat (that Kai was forcibly added into) that make it seem like Max is about to kill Kai and she always texts the dumbest shit after like “phew!!! made it out okay!!! gee, let’s hope that doesn’t happen again!”

They laugh their asses off about it

Kai has no friends during the run of NPMD

she hates the prudes for getting her involved in a manslaughter/murder,

she has no clue if max is her friend or if he’s only keeping her around for the snickers bars,

And everyone else is too in love with afraid of her to even get near her

It kinda hurts but she’s learning to deal with it

KAI RIZZ KAI RIZZ KAI RIZZ

that shit is STRONG guys

she got that Wattpad MC rizz

she does not want it-

she is either oblivious to it or painfully aware

no in between

She’s been bunking with Paul

They met on the street and they talked for a bit and Kai was like “yeah my hotels about to kick me out lol” and he was like “oh you can stay with me”

He doesn’t know why he said that, maybe it was just meant to be.

Anyways Kai agreed and Paul is the biggest dad ever

He asks her how school was and he cooks dinner for them and they snuggle on the couch and have movie nights

They have to share a bedroom but he got her dividers and turned the bottom of the closet into a hangout nook for Kai so it’s like she has her own little room

everyone keeps dragging Kai everywhere by the wrist- she does NOT wanna be there-

Kai keeps talking to the audience in front of everyone and she interacts with the audience a lot

For example, she crumples up and tosses her map to someone in the audience and finger guns and winks at them afterwards

She gets like a gazillion love notes a day-

she gets so angry she just eats them-

nobody knows why and they’re just like:

“Aw she’s silly :]”

“I LITERALLY HATE ALL OF YOU”

“I’m soooo in love with her :3”

“IM GOING TO KILL ALL OF YOU”

in the words of my pal:

“she’s so perfect :3333

(she is going to go feral-)”

All of Kai’s classes have at least one prude in them

Kai kinda wishes she had friends and tries to talk to people, but she’s so autistic, socially awkward, and anxious she either ends up shutting down, staying quiet, or insulting them

Kai goes to the sports games purely for the food and hides in the bathroom the entire time (the crowds and lights overstimulate her)

Kai hangs out at beanie’s a lot

She’s still Emma’s favorite customer.

She accidentally calls her Mom a lot.

Emma loves it every time.

It often goes uncorrected.

If Kai is alive for homecoming, she’s going there WAY overdressed-

she’s been homeschooled the majority of her life and has never been to a school dance-

she’s only been to like high class galas/parties so she thinks it’s like that

spoiler alert it is NOT

Kai is aware she’s in a musical

she really doesn’t wanna be in one but she knows

sometimes you can see her groovin uncomfortably to the music in the background

That’s all! Idk if I’m gonna script this one out as, like I’ve said before: TKWDLM has a special place in my heart and I’m not ready to move on

plus I’m still super hyperfixated on TKWDLM-

oki that’s all for now bye bye :3

[r0binarellan0]

{ LOVESICK }💋

Finney Blake x Reader

Finney Blake never really noticed any girls before, he only ever started liking Donna because she was the only girl who was actually nice to him. Well one day, that changed, you had just moved from Michigan because your dad got a promotion from his job.

You were new and all alone, no friends, no other family, just you and dad, forever and always. When you arrived at school, you were really nervous, everyone knew each other because they had been together since pre-k. You arrived to your 1st period class, nothing special, Science, you walked in and everybody’s eyes went on you. A shiver ran down your spine as the teacher introduced you to everyone, you felt unwelcome, the girls started giggling, and the boys looked at each other funny as to make fun of your presence.

All but one boy, he was quiet, and you could tell he didn’t have many friends, you even thought you saw him turn red when looking at you up front, which didn’t bother you. He had curly brown hair that framed his face, and he wore a denim jacket with a striped shirt underneath, you also noticed him fidgeting with a little toy spaceship in his hand.

You sat next to him and took a notebook out. You saw him look over at the drawings you had made in previous days, they were of planets and stars, which fascinated you. He looked in aw at your book, cautious of what to say.

“I like your drawings” He said with hesitation.

“Thank you, i love space” you told him

“Really? me too! i love looking at the stars from my sisters telescope” he said excitedly

You found his passion sweet, you always wanted to find someone else who liked the same things as you.

“Hey, i was wondering, do you think you could show me around school, i don’t know where my next few classes are, and i could use some help” you were desperate for some help, but didn’t know who else to ask.

“Yeah, sure, i don’t really like my next class that much anyway” he said with a slight smile.

you waited until the bell rang, anxious about him walking you to your next class.

[TIME SKIP TO AFTER SCHOOL]

you walked home still thinking about Finney, he was kinda cute if you’re being honest with yourself. You found it cute that he liked space more than you, you could imagine his room, covered in glow in the dark stars, and space decals that covered his walls. You liked that someone else was as weird as you.

Later in the day you got a phone call, you didn’t know who would’ve gotten your number but you answered anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/n, it’s Finney, from 1st period”

“Oh hey! What’s up?”

“Well i was wondering if you wanted to come over later and look through my sisters telescope with me when it got dark, i heard there’s gonna be a meteor shower tonight and i want you to come, are you free?”

“Oh yeah, i’m free, let me ask my dad, one minute”

you yelled across the house to your dad, “DAD!! can i go to my new friends house tonight, there’s gonna be a meteor shower!!” he responded fairly quickly, “yeah that’s fine honey, just be back at 10!” you were pleased at his answer, you pulled back to the phone.

“He said i could go, what time do you want me to show up?”

“maybe 6 or 7? My dad will be inside for most of it, he doesn’t really like visitors.”

“Oh okay, that’s fine, what should i wear?”

“Doesn’t really matter, whatever you wear will be fine”

“Ok! See you later! Bye!!”

You hung up before he could say anything else.

[TIME SKIP TO YOU GETTING READY]

You decided to wear a brown sweater and some worn out jeans your mom gave you a long time ago, you put your hair in two braids and put mascara on, you also put on some of your favorite strawberry lip gloss, it was pink and sparkly, and it tasted so good.

you got his address and walked over there, you knocked on the front door, and a man with dark brown hair and a full beard answered it, he was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt.

“Hi, I’m looking for Finney, are you his father?”

“I am, and who might you be?”

“I’m Y/n, i’m Finney’s classmate, he asked me to come over to watch a meteor shower”

“Did he? that’s nice, we’ll come on in, have a seat, i’ll call him for you.. Finney! You have someone here for you!”

“Coming!!” He called from down the hall, he came running down to see you on the couch playing with your hands.

“wow Y/n, you look… really pretty”

“Really? Thank you!” you could feel your cheeks and ears heating up, it felt nice to be complimented, especially from someone you wouldn’t mind liking you.

“come on, I already set the telescope up outside”

You got up and walked outside to the sun already setting, you saw a blanket had been laid on the grass in his backyard. You saw a girl come out of the back door, she had long dark brown hair that was put into two pigtails, she was wearing a rainbow striped shirt and worn jeans with grass stains on the knees.

“Finney! I told you, stop using my telescope without my permission!”

“I know Gwen, but we have a guest, and i wanted to show them the meteor shower that’s happening tonight, so can i please use it, just for tonight?” He said with a slight pout and a hand to hand grab.

“Fine. But only for tonight.” She said sternly. She walked back inside the house and left you together, alone.

When the time came, it was already 8:30 pm, the meteor shower was about to begin, you and Finney had been laying on the blanket that had been set up outside and talking about you and your past. You felt as if he understood you, and didn’t try to judge you based off of your looks like others did.

You found him looking at you while you talked, he couldn’t take his eyes off you, he was admiring your features as you talked about the stupidest things, and you noticed.

You turned to face him and could see his face turn bright red, you knew, he liked you. He turned away quickly and laid on his back to distract himself from you. You scooted closer to him and laid your head on his chest, not knowing how he would respond. You could feel his body stiffen up. To your surprise, he pulled you in a little closer, which made you giggle into him. He defensively asked,

“Why are you laughing? Did I do something wrong? Did i make you uncomforta-”

Before he could spit out the last word of his worry, you pushed your lips against his and shut him up, before he could ruin the moment you both were having. When you pulled away, he was red and flustered, he didn’t know how to react, he liked it, but couldn’t handle it, he covered his face and hid from you. How cute.

You hugged him and laid back down with him to watch the meteor shower start to begin, you knew this would linger in his mind for days, weeks, months even, you knew he was in love with you, i guess you could say he was lovesick.

(Sorry this story was so long, i wanted to give a good story since i haven’t posted in months, if you like this one, give feed back, i would love to hear how i can get better, bye!!)

[juniperwoodwell]

Reunion pt.1

Phillip Altman X F! reader

Word count: 6k

Warning(s): Cursing, Smoking, Kissing, implications of masterbation, Phillip- because...well it's Phillip.

Prompt: "Why me? "Why not you" (Will be in bold)

Prompt Exchange

A/N: This fic is part of the Prompt Exchange I am doing with @kylowritten, Go check out her fic as well! Oh, and this is part one, don't worry there will be a second chapter.

"Aw, come on, Y/n, it's a high school reunion! You should come to visit! You don't actually have to go, but you could come over to my mom's place for dinner and meet my kids!" Wendy tried her best to persuade me, but I wasn't so sure; high school wasn't my best life. It had its moments, but I only really had Wendy and Judd. I sighed. "I don't know, Wen.." "Judd and Phillip will be there." "At the reunion?" "No, dork. At dinner. Judd is visiting the same weekend, and Phillip has been dying to see you again." I laughed and rolled my eyes. "Oh Yeah?" "Of course, Y/n. He absolutely adored you when we were younger. Don't you remember me telling you that he'd used to ask when you'd come over?" "Ooh. Yeah, but he was such a little punk" I heard Wendy's laugh crackle over the phone. "Yes. You're right but still. We all miss you." "Wendy, you saw me last month." I tried to reason, but I knew Wendy wouldn't let me live it down if I didn't go, so we chatted awhile longer about everything and anything then I booked my tickets for home.

I swiftly knocked on the door and took hold of my duffle bag; I heard a loud, deep voice yell from inside the house, "I'll get it!" It sounded familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

My heart seemed to stop when the door opened, and the owner of that voice appeared in front of Me; my eyes were wide with surprise, and my jaw fell slightly. "P-Phillip?" I asked, His smile was big, and his eyes shone excitedly. "Y/n! No way! It's been forever" He yanked me into a hug, and his figure towered over me as I hugged him back.

"I know. I'm sorry, I know I promised to keep in touch but with my job and all that...I got busy," I apologized as we pulled away from the hug; he shook his head. "No, I understand, Y/n; you have a life of your own." He smiled at me again; when did he get so handsome?

As we walked into the house, Phillip excitedly pulled me into the house, and we went to the living room. "Look who the cat dragged in!" Wendy and Hillary. Their mother. They were sitting on the couch; Phillip took my bag from me, telling me he'd put it in the spare room. "Oh- Phillip, I was going to get a hotel." I didn't want to burden their mother, but she stood up first and pulled me into a hug "Y/n, Honey. You're like a daughter to me; I couldn't live with myself if I let you stay in a hotel. The guest room is all yours." I signed softly into the hug and nodded, pulling away. I thanked her. Wendy was next to hug me; her hugs were always tighter than everyone else's. "You came; I'm so glad! Wanna meet the kiddos?" She asked excitedly,

This whole family was always energetic. It was a good change from my usual dull and stressful lifestyle. I arrived a day earlier to spend as much time with my friends as possible. It'd been about five years since I'd seen them, excluding Wendy. She always found a way to visit me—no idea where she gets the time.

Phillip returned downstairs; his footsteps were loud as he practically ran down the steps. "Hey, so. How have you been, Y/n?" He plopped down onto one of the armchairs; Hillary rolled her eyes with a smile as she guided me to where she had sat on the couch. "Let me get you something to drink," I thanked her as she walked into the kitchen. I looked at Phillip. "I've been...busy, But good." He nodded; that smile never left his face.

Hillary returned with a glass of grape juice; I looked surprised and thanked her. She still remembered my favorite drink. "So, Since it's been so long, Y/n. Do you have a boyfriend? Maybe a Fiance?" Hillary asked, a mischievous smile on her lips. I smiled and played with the rings on my fingers. I looked over at Philip, who seemed tense, then at Wendy. "Uh. No, I haven't dated anyone since Anthony Kennet from high school," I laughed, Wendy joining me. "Oh, he was horrible for you! I don't know how you managed to snag the hottest guy in school." I rolled my eyes at her comment. "Okay. First off, Wendy, I didn't Snag him. He actually liked me, he was nice, but he wasn't-" "The best in bed." I swatted her arm. "No. Well. No, that's not the point here. He wasn't a good communicator. It never would've worked" I heard Phillip scoff, but I didn't turn to look at him. "Well, if it did, you'd probably be living in Tampa with five kids" My eyes widened at Wendy's words. "He's got five kids!?" She nodded. "Geez... Dodged that bullet" "You don't want kids?" I looked over at Phillip and tilted my head. "What? No. I mean, yes, I want kids, just not five of them. I'd probably be alright with three." Phillip nodded, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. "So, where's Judd? I thought you said he'd be here?" "Oh, he's gonna be late. He'll hopefully be here before dinner."

We had some friendly, casual conversation before Wendy had to help her daughter, and Hillary went to the kitchen to make dinner. Leaving me alone with Phillip. "So. How have you been, Phillip? Last time I saw you was at your high school graduation." I watched him scrunch up his nose and scratch the back of his neck. "I-I've been good. I've been working with Paul at the store; I got a place all to myself now." "You still getting high and chasing after girls?" He rolled his eyes. "No." "Phillip. I know you. I'd be disappointed if you weren't still your old self" "What? A screw-up?" I looked at him, shocked. "Phillip Altman. You are no screw-up, you made mistakes, and that's okay. What did I always use to tell you?" "Mistakes make are lessons; learn from them," he sulked out. "Yeah," I smiled at him. "You wanna go outside?" "Sure."

We went out to the back patio and sat across from each other at the table. Philip pulled out this pack of cigarettes and shook it to get my attention. "Oh, no, thank you." "You stopped?" "Well...Kinda" I lifted my sleeve and showed him my nicotine patch. "I had a bit of a scare last year...The doctors said I had lung cancer, but it was just a machine failure. So I've been trying to stop. I do still kinda want kids, y'know... without defects." I laughed dryly, and he nodded understandingly as he lit a cigarette. I watched him quietly as he blew the smoke from his lips. I leaned back against the chair and looked up at the sky; it was around five o'clock the sun was beginning to set. "How long are you staying for?" "Hmm? Oh, um, until Monday. My flight home is Tuesday morning" "Why'd you decide to come in today? The reunion isn't until Saturday, and it's Thursday." "Your sister insisted I come and stay awhile, and I need a vacation..."

I rolled my neck and met his eyes; he smiled that sweet, crooked smile. "What?"

"Nothing..." He shook his head and looked away, taking another drag. "No, it's definitely something, Altman." I sat up in my chair and put my elbows on the table. He groaned, knowing I wouldn't let it go. "You...You just haven't really changed." I faked offensive "What's that supposed to mean?" "I don't know, I just...I missed you. And our talks, you and Wendy, were my favorite people growing up. I really miss it when you'd come over after school and play video games downstairs with me or when you'd teach me how to draw. I miss you, Y/n."

As I stared at him, guilt rose in my chest.

 I must have been zoned out long enough for Phillip to notice. He got up and crouched beside my chair; his hand grasped mine, making me return to reality. I looked at him, then his hand on mine.

I bit my lip and looked down.

I left my hometown to pursue my dream, but when I failed, I was too ashamed to come home, so I went into reception, and that's where I've been for the past few years. I didn't realize how much this affected my friends and family until now.

"You zoned out. Did I say something wrong?" I looked back at him and smiled. "No, Philly...I just got hit by a startling realization." I chuckled then lifted my free hand to his face and brushed a stray strand of hair behind his ear; he smiled back at me, but from the look in his eyes, I could tell there was a hint of concern. He leaned into the warmth of my hand and gave the one he was holding a gentle squeeze. "I really meant it, though. I miss you" "Yeah, I miss you too." He squeezed my hand again and then stood up; when did he put out his cigarette? "I think mom's almost done dinner. We should go in" He tilted his head towards the door, and I followed him inside.

A knock on the front door interrupted my conversation with Wendy as we waited for dinner. It was Judd. "Hey! Look, who decided to join us," I said as he walked into the kitchen. "Y/n? Goodness, you've grown up." I laughed and hugged him. "I look the same, Judd. You, on the other hand," I teased, causing him to roll his eyes.

A few more welcomes were given out, and Hillary had put everything on the dinner table; I sat across from Phillip, and Wendy sat to my right. "So... How's the job going, Phillip?" Judd asked, and Phillip shrugged. "It's good, Exhausting but good. I mean, Paul can be a pain in the ass occasionally, but we're not butting heads as much anymore." "That's better than good, Phillip. You seem to be maturing," I say, making Wendy laugh. "Maturing? Phillip? Oh Gosh, I hope so; it's about time." He groaned; I looked over at him; His shoulders seemed to slump as he ate. Gently I tapped his leg with my foot, and he looked up at me.

"I think it's great that he's finally able to stand on his own and show that he can care for himself. I haven't been around for a while, but I have seen a tremendous change." As I spoke, I kept my eyes on his with a smile.

That seemed to bring back his confidence and goofiness; even though Phillip's siblings could be tough on him, they loved him and were proud, but sometimes he needed someone else to believe in him.

The rest of the dinner went by with a calmer air and laughter.

Hillary decided to go to bed right after. Phillip and I volunteered to wash the dishes so Judd could relax from his flight and Wendy could put the babes to sleep.

"But you're right; I guess I didn't realize how much I depended on their opinions of me. Especially Wendy's. It just crushed me a bit when she said that." He paused and passed me a plate to dry. "I'm the family screw-up trying to redeem himself, but it's hard when I feel like no one actually believes I can do it. I know it's kinda like the boy who cried wolf story but still..." His voice began to break, and he stopped moving; his hands rested in the soapy water.

I felt something bump against my hip. Did I zone out again?

"What're you thinking about?" I looked over at Philip, who was washing the dishes beside me; he must have bumped me. I held a plate in my hand while drying it. I bit my lip. "About you," I admitted; he looked at me with his brows raised in surprise, then went back to washing more dishes. "Me? Why?" He asked, "I was thinking about what Wendy said at dinner. It seemed to kinda...deflate you." He chuckled and shook his head. "You read me like an open book. You know that, Y/n?" "Mm..Do I? It must be because of how long I've known you, I guess" "So. What about it?" "I don't know; it's just...I feel like you don't believe in yourself as much as you should, and your siblings' opinions of you are more important than yours." He had just about dropped a plate into the sink when I finished speaking. "Fuck. Is it that obvious?" I shook my head. "You're psychic, I swear..." "You used to say that all the time when you were a kid." I laughed out

"You are not a screw-up. Do you hear me? There is absolutely nothing wrong with making mistakes. You don't see how amazing you truly are, but I can. And I wouldn't call that a screw-up." His eyebrows were furrowed when I spoke. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down to my level, his head nuzzled into my neck, and his arm wrapped around me in a tight, almost bone-crushing hug. "If anyone screwed up, it'd be me," I mumbled to myself, but it caused him to pull back and look into my eyes; he didn't say anything, but his expression said enough. "I should have never left." Our arms were still around each other. "Why do you say that? Don't you have everything you wanted? You have your dream job and live in the big city like you always wanted." I sighed, pulling him into another hug. My head rested against his chest. I stood there for a moment, thinking about his question. I hadn't told anyone yet. Not even Wendy knows. I looked up at him and met his gaze. "No...I blew the job on my first week, and I live in an apartment with three roommates. I work as a receptionist at a hotel across the street." His expression didn't really change from the one earlier, but he pulled me in tighter "Why did you never come home...?" I laid my head back against his chest, and he placed his chin atop my head. "You should understand better than anyone." I muttered, "Everyone was so excited for me, and I made the promise to my parent's that I'd come home successful and make them proud." My words made his hold on me incredibly tighter. "Oh- Phillip. You're gonna squeeze the life out of me." I wheezed out, and he chuckled, letting go of me, but he locked his fingers together as they were around my waist, Only letting me go so far. "What're you trying to do" I laughed, looking at him. He shrugged. "Thought maybe if I hugged you tight enough, all that pain and guilt and feelings of failure would be transferred to me." he smiled softly as I continued to laugh. "Oh Philly, If that were possible, I'd never let you take on all my pain" That look is back, His furrowed brows and slightly pouty lip. I removed my arms from around his neck, placing my hands on his face. "I'm okay. Okay?" I nodded as I spoke, then turned out of his hold; he was quiet the rest of the time we did the dishes. I told him I'd put them away and that he should go to bed. But instead, he went outside.

 It broke my heart to see him like this; this wasn't the usual Phillip Altman I knew. No, this was someone entirely different, someone I didn't know...maybe I would have if I'd never left.

I pulled his hand from the water and turned him to face me; he wouldn't look into my eyes, so I placed my hands on his face to make him,

 When I finished putting everything away, I joined him. "So. Little Altman, do you remember any of my impromptu astronomy classes?" I asked quietly as I sat beside him; he sat in one of the outdoor dining chairs, a cigarette between his lips. "Hmm? Maybe? " He took a drag from it, then put it out. "I remember Orion, big and little dipper. The open cluster called p- something" "Pleiades" "Yeah, that. I think I remember where the other eight planets are." I smiled at him, "I bet you don't remember the names of the stars that make up ursa minor" "Is that a challenge? Y/n. The little dipper is my favorite constellation." "I know. So yes, it is a challenge."

Philip stood up and walked back into the house to turn off the backlight. When he came back out, he had two blankets; he laid one down on the grass and then called me over. He sat down after me and wrapped the second one around our shoulders. We sat with barely an inch between us.

"Okay. So. Let's start with the trapezoid part first. The biggest star is Kochab, below that is Pherkad, and right of that is Eta Ursae Minoris. Above that one is Zeta Ursae Minoris. Now for the tail, we have in order starting with Zeta, it goes to Epsilon Ursae minoris, Yildun, and ending with my favorite, Polaris. The North Star. " Each time he'd say a different name, he'd point to the exact one, Not missing a single beat.

But I wasn't really paying attention, I suppose; I observed him. He's so much more grown-up...It's almost like he's a different person now. A heavy sigh left my lips, catching his attention. "Did I get something wrong?" He asked as he looked down at me, our eyes meeting briefly before I inhaled sharply, then looked up at the star-covered sky. "No, you did amazingly. You've always been good with astronomy." "It's only because I liked my Tutor. She was always more interesting than Mr. Elks." My eyes met his again, they were playful, but something sad lingered behind them. "I guess I was pretty great; Mr. Elks was a bore. He never made it fun and always made us do written projects instead of fun physical science." I groaned out, rolling my eyes. "We made a...Uh, what do you call those things? You put them above baby cribs." "A mobile?" "Yea, a mobile, That's all we got to do, and it's still hanging in the classroom." I laughed. "I should sneak you into the reunion so you can go snatch it and put it in your bedroom" "Oh, you should! That's a great idea. Plus, you are allowed a plus one." He wiggled his eyebrows; I was about to say yes, let's do that. But then, something painful struck my mind.

-What would people think if they saw that I brought Phillip as my plus one? Would they assume we were together or something? We're almost seven years apart. Gosh, would people see me differently if they thought I was dating my best friend's baby brother? What if-

"Y/n/n?" His voice pulled me out of my overthinking, and quickly, I stood up. The cold air erupted goose bumps along my skin. He looked up at me, surprised.

"S-sorry. I totally would, but. It just might not be a good idea. Um, I think I should go to bed. I'll see you in the morning-" Philip's larger hand grabbed mine quickly, causing me to fall into his lap. My face flushed a soft red as I looked into his eyes. What is happening? This is the annoying little punk who would always try and start a fight with me or make me look at his baseball cards with him. Why do I feel like a teenage girl with her first crush?

"I know you...You're probably thinking that if you took me to the reunion, everyone from your class would think you're dating me. Or that they'll think you're some creep that's into guys almost a decade younger than you. But would that be so bad?" I gasped at his question; he held onto me by the waist, his eyes bore into mine, a look of something new in his eyes. Something that I knew from other men but not him.

He leaned in and slotted his lips against my own. They were warm; he tasted like honey and cigarettes; my mind felt fuzzy as I returned his kiss. But the moment ended as soon as it started, I pulled away. It felt like a bucket of ice-cold water was dropped onto me. "S-sorry...Phillip. I-" He shook his head. "No...I get it. Just had to kiss you at least once in my life." I looked at him, startled. Like a deer in headlights, "What? Is it that surprising to find out I like you? I kind of hinted at it earlier." I shook my head, still sitting on his lap. "No...Um, I just assumed it was like a sister kinda like?" I admitted, and it was his turn to shake his head. He chuckled. "Yeah, No. Y/n. I've had a massive crush on you since I was in like middle school. I mean, I always knew nothing would ever happen between us, but I figured maybe one day I'd kiss you."  I fell silent for a few moments; he allowed me some air to process this new information. He stared up at the sky before he spoke. "How about this, Since I know you'll probably be overthinking it for a while. I'll mark this off on my bucket list, and you can forget it even happened." He looked back down at me. I nodded in response. "Yeah. That...might be a good idea." soon after, we decided to go back inside and go to bed.

But I don't think either of us slept that night. How could I forget about it? It was such a wonderful, albeit short, Kiss. I could still feel the warmth of his lips long after I got up the next morning.

"Good morning, everyone. You're all up early." I said as I walked through the kitchen; there was a small assortment of breakfast foods spread across the countertops. "Where's Phillip?" Wendy asked, "How should I know? He's probably still asleep." I responded as I grabbed a bowl of cereal, "Could you go wake him up? He'll be less cranky if you do it." I sighed, yea...now I know why. "Sure. He needs to get up anyways." I feigned annoyance, but in truth, my body was screaming at me to just avoid him. Damn it, Phillip, why'd you have to kiss me and make things difficult.

Reluctantly I walked up the stairs, I stood in front of his door, but as I was reaching up to knock on the door, I heard this soft, muffled sound that sounded very close to a moan. I blinked a few times at the door, my hand still raised. I listened and heard it again. This time it sounded like my name. No... He's not. Is he? I stifled a groan before I pounded my fist onto his door, "Hey! Get up. Your family wants you downstairs to eat breakfast." There was silence behind the door; good. He needs to be startled. Punk. Then I heard some shuffling. The door opened to find a half-naked Philip Altman. His torso was toned and bare. His breath was heavy as he spoke, "Okay. I'll be down in a minute." I crossed my arms over my chest, and I could tell he was struggling to avoid looking at my chest. But then again, so was I. I cleared my throat and turned away. The door closed loudly; I heard a thump against it, then a low, groaned-out curse as I walked down the stairs.

"Why exactly are they having the reunion at the school?" I asked once I returned to the kitchen and sat down across from Wendy at the dining table. "Oh, Apparently, they got the idea to recreate our senior prom. So the school is allowing us to use the gym for the event." I scoffed. "Why senior prom? That was the worst thing to ever happen in school." "For you, maybe. But others actually enjoyed it." "Yeah, well, the others didn't find their boyfriend getting head from the cheer captain." "Woah, okay. Language, got kids here, Y/n," Judd calmly scolded, "Sorry. But still. Senior Prom was the worst night of my life, and honestly, I don't want to relive it."

"Then don't go; stay here with me and babysit." I hear Phillip say as he sat down in the seat beside me. "No, Phillip. She has to go, she already agreed, and I won't let her back out." I rolled my eyes; I felt Phillip bump his knee against mine, and I bumped him back; this was something we often did when I'd come over for breakfast before school; it makes sense now why he'd always sit beside me. "Do I have to wear a dress then?" Wendy shrugged as she ate, "It's optional, but they did mention that they'd prefer if you wore formal clothing. I know Teddy Fredrickson is taking Lindsey as his date, like during prom, they said they're going to wear the same things they did that night." I grumbled as I ate my cereal; Phillip glanced at me, and he tapped my foot with his. I looked over at him, and he seemed confused. "Lindsey is the one I found Anthony with. She was dating Teddy in high school." "Oh, It turns out that he knew they were hooking up, but he didn't care; they got married two years ago and have a kid." I raised my brows in surprise at Wendy's comment. "Huh. Who did Anthony marry then?" "No clue; she didn't go to our school, But she is coming as his plus one." I nodded and finished off my bowl, lifting it up to drink the milk. I wiped my mouth and stood up from my seat. "You wanna go shopping, Wendy?" I asked as I put my bowl in the sink. "Oh, yes, please." "Oh, why don't I drive you two around? That way, Judd can get a break from us, and Mom can enjoy some much-needed time with the grands." Phillip offered, I was about to recline, but Wendy beat me to the punch and accepted his invitation. "Well, we can't take your Porsche." I said as I started ascending the stairs, "No, but we could take your old Camaro." I gasped at Wendy's suggestion, "I doubt that thing even runs anymore! Dad probably keeps it in the garage." "Uh, no, actually. He lets me drive it when mine is in the shop. She purrs beautifully." Phillip corrected, I rolled my eyes and nodded. "Alright, go get her then." I hear a triumphant cheer downstairs.

Ah...My old 1969 Chevrolet Camaro Z/28, it's very, very old. My grandfather bought it when he first moved here from the city with my grandmother and ten-year-old dad. That car was given to my dad when he turned sixteen then my father did the same with me. We never treated it like it was a special display piece. I'm not even sure how much of it is still its original self. It's been in a lot of accidents, and my grandfather was a mechanic, so he would always put it back together each time. My father followed in his footsteps. I wonder how Phillip got ahold of it.

"Wendy, how much longer is he going to take?" I asked her as we stood outside on the porch; she shrugged and held her little girl. Hillary came out and took the child in her arms just as Phillip was pulling up to the curb. "You girls coming or what?" I flipped him off, making him burst into a fit of giggles; walking over, I leaned in to peer my head into the open window to look at him. "You're a little Punk; you know that?" I smirked playfully; he smiled and leaned over the passenger seat, his face close to mine; I could feel his breath against my lips, he glanced down, and I followed his eyes as he began winding the window back up. "You little!-" I backed up away from the car; I could see him snickering. I huffed and pulled the door open, "Brat." I muttered as he pushed the passenger seat down. "You know it, Y/n. Always and forever" I didn't miss the long stare he gave my ass when I climbed in and sat down. I swatted his arm. "Ow, what was that for." "This morning," I said as calmly as possible. I looked into the rearview to see his face flush deep red, "Y-Y/n, I can explain-" He mumbled out but was cut off by Wendy, "Explain what? And why is your face red? Are you drunk already?" I laughed quietly. "I found him hiding a pack of cigs this morning when I went to wake him up." Wendy nodded as she got into her seat in front. "That's not unusual, but why is his face red." "I guess he's just not used to my teasing anymore." I shrugged.

Phillip drove us around town to every little store we wanted to see, but now it was just him and I in the car; Wendy wanted to go into a children's store, but I wasn't very interested in it at the moment.

I leaned in between the front seats and rested my elbows on the center console. "You should probably start explaining." He looked over at me with wide eyes. "Not so cocky today now, are we?" "Well, there's a difference between last night and this morning, Y/n." I hummed and looked out the windshield. "How so?" He cleared his throat and pulled out a cigarette. "For instance, I planned on kissing you. I didn't plan on you hearing me rubbing one out the thought of you," he spoke as he lit it. Damn, how could he be so blunt? "If you get caught, own it," he muttered, and I smiled at him. "Is that a common occurrence then?" he shook his head. "It's usually not you I think about, but that kiss has me all fucked up," he admitted as he blew the smoke out of the open window. "Maybe it's best we both try and forget it happened so we don't have another accidental occurrence," I suggested, but he didn't seem to like the idea. "Fuck no. I've waited for that moment since eighth grade. It'll be fine. This morning was a one-time thing. I promise." "Good." I sat back in my seat and watched him from his side mirror.   Wendy came out not too long after, scolding Phillip for smoking in the car. "where to now, ladies?" he asked.

I should never have said anything. Because now I'm trying on dresses.

"Meh, Purple isn't really your color." I hear Philip say as I take a slow spin. He decided to join us with the excuse of needing some air conditioning. "Yeah, he's right. Try the blue one on. I'm gonna go look for a pair of shoes, so Phillip, let me know what you think." Phillip gave her a thumbs up as I turned to go back into the changing room, the long floor-to-ceiling curtain returning to its closed position when I pulled it closed.

"They were right, the purple isn't my color, but I doubt raspberry blue is going to be any better," I whispered to myself as I slipped out of the dress; as I was fixing the spaghetti strap on my shoulder, the curtain opened, I turned to the entrance and was about to speak, but Phillip slipped a finger to his lips, a smirk hiding behind it. His eyes selfishly took their time scanning my body. The dress was a blue, belle Swiss dot, twist front tie, backless wrap, cami. It was very pretty, but I didn't feel it suited me well, and his eyes only caused my insecurity to grow. I was never a fan of dresses or showing too much skin, so having someone stare at me was nerve-wracking. "Holy-" Philip breathed out, his hand falling to his side; he took a step closer, almost close enough for us to touch. "What..? does it look dumb?" I ask as the strap slides down my shoulder; he's quick to fix it. His fingers seemed to burn against my skin. He breathed out a quiet laugh. "No. Damn...You just look so pretty. It took my breath away," I rolled my eyes and shoved his shoulder gently. "No, I mean it. Come on, spin. Let me see you." He requested, taking a step back. No one had really ever spoken to me like that...That honestly. Anthony was my only long-term boyfriend, and he was only a sweet talker when he wanted something. Phillip was sincere, and it made me happy; I did as he asked. "So?" "You look hot. Like, really Hot. You'll Make Anthony Kennett wish he treated you right." I laughed and turned around to the three-piece mirror that stood almost as tall as me. I played with the skirt of the dress, and again the strap fell; I went to fix it, but Philip did it first, his front pressed to my back, leaning down slightly to place a kiss on my bare shoulder as he fixed the strap, he pulled back and adjusted them both, then his eyes met mine in the mirror. Darkness filled them, something I think I could get lost in if I wasn't careful. Looking away, I cleared my throat. "So, you think I should get it?" he nodded. "Definitely." I smiled at him, and he left the changing room.

"Did you find one?" "yeah, I'm getting the blue one." "Oh yeah? What made you pick that one?" "Revenge." Wendy looked at me, surprised, but I just smiled at her.

We spent the rest of the day just enjoying our time and taking a nice drive around; we didn't get home until four-thirty. Just before dinner. "How was your shopping, girls? Did you find anything nice?" Hillary asked as we sat down at the table. I told her I'd show her my dress after dinner, and Wendy told her about everything she had bought. After dinner, it was the same routine as the night before.

"About earlier, I meant everything I said. It's a one-time thing, and you looked beautiful in that dress. Not saying you aren't beautiful now...because you are," I looked over at him when he paused, his eyes gazing into mine. "You're always beautiful." My breathing hitched, and I dropped the plate I was drying; it fell to the floor between us and shattered. "Oh, Shit!" I cursed, jumping back, Phillip laughed as he crouched down to pick up the pieces, but I swatted him on the head; he looked up at me and cocked his head to the side. "Don't pick them up with your bare hands, Idiot. Let me get a broom." I walked over to the pantry to grab the broom and helped him clean up the glass. As we finished the dishes, I turned and leaned my back against the counter, drying off the last glass before setting it on the counter; I watched Phillip put away stuff on the higher shelves that I couldn't reach. "Hey, Thank you." "Hmm? For what?" he asked "Your kind words. I'm not used to it." "Yeah, I got that when you dropped the plate," he teased, turning around to face me.

He stood only a foot away from me. "I can't take it," he admitted with a sigh. "Can't take what?" "You." He took a step in, his hands resting on the counter on either side of me, caging me in. I swallowed the lump in my throat and asked, "Why me?" He smirked at me, "Why not you? You have me wrapped around your little finger; you've been playing with me all day. I expected the whole crush thing to go away after the kiss. I know it's only been one day, but I crave more...More of you." I gasped at his words; his breath fanned over my face. He smelled like smoke and strawberry dish soap. It was intoxicating. "Phillip-" "I don't care." He leaned in closer, his nose nuzzling against my cheek as he inhaled, "You need to stop worrying about what others will think. It's not like it'd be Illegal if we hooked up, Y/n."

His hands lifted from the countertop and found their places on my hips; I leaned into his touch. It was warm and inviting, but that little bug in my mind wouldn't keep quiet. He's right, It's only seven years, and we're both adults. It's not illegal. But he is my best friend's little brother; I grew up with him. It's wrong, No matter how much I want it.

 I put my hands on his chest and pushed gently, but he didn't budge; he just pulled his face away to look into my eyes. "Y/n.." he breathed out my name, his gaze was heavy on mine, and I shut my eyes. I was conflicted, and I knew he could see it. I felt his breath against my ear before he spoke softly, "No one has to know." His hands squeezed my hips to emphasize his point; my breath hitched when I felt him kiss that spot behind my ear.

He pulled back, and his warmth was gone. "Open your eyes; look at me" I shook my head; he lifted a hand to my face, gently rubbing his thumb under my eye; he leaned in a kissed me. It was sweet but electrifying; my eyes shot open he pulled back only slightly. "I'm not some little kid anymore. I'm a man now" I smiled at his words, and he gave one back, his hand sliding back down to my hip. "Oh, there you are, finally leaving your shell, huh?" he asked, and I rolled my eyes playfully. "You're right. You're not a kid; You're different now."

"Damn right, I am." My hands were still on his chest; I looked down at them and then slid them around his neck, pulling him into another kiss. It was heated and passionate he pushed his body against mine, deepening the kiss; his tongue grazed my bottom lip, asking for entrance. I didn't stand a chance once his tongue slid against mine; I moaned softly into the kiss. I felt his grip tighten on my hips, then slide up my sides. Finding their way under my shirt, pulling and kneading on any skin they could find. It felt wonderful, he knew what he was doing, and it gave me some comfort as I threaded my fingers through the dark locks of hair at the bottom of his neck; I gently pulled on them, causing him to groan; his hands slipped from under my shirt and back to hips. Carefully, he lifted me up and sat me on the counter; his body stood between my thighs. The kiss never faltered, only growing more passionate with every peck and graze, every nip or clash of teeth. Gently he bit my lower lip, pulling on it before letting go and kissing me once more. I sighed against his lips; my breath was heavy and labored.  "Y/n dear! Are you going to show me the dress you bought?" Hillary yelled from the living room; Phillip and I pulled away quickly, startled by his mother. "Shit-" He whispered as he helped me down off the counter. We could hear her footsteps approaching. I fixed my shirt and hair quickly before grabbing a hand towel, pretending I was drying my hands. "Yeah! Just a minute!" I turned to Phillip, who had begun to walk outside. "Where are you going?" I asked him quietly, "I'll be out here when you're done. kay?" I smiled, and he returned it; nodding, I turned around to go into the living room. "Let me just go and put it on real quick," I said to Hillary, "Alright! I'm excited to see it."

[winniethewife]

Jewels made of stardust  

(Poe Dameron x OC! Rhoswen Jewelace.)

Chapter 2: We were young and so inspired

Last chapter ~ Next chapter

Words: 922

~Three years before.~

Poe and Rhoswen sat on the cliff side looking out on the ocean and into the stars. They sat almost close enough to touch but they weren’t. He looked over at her, her red hair pulled back into a ponytail, her Emerald eyes sparkling in the moon light, her lips parted ever so slightly in awe of it all. She was so damn pretty, but she was his new generals adopted daughter and somehow that felt off limits.

“Do you ever think about what you’ll do when this is done?” Rhoswen asks as she continues to look out at the stars.

“Uh…no, not really… I’m a here and now kinda guy.” He admits as he looks away from her and out on the water. She laughs at his response.

“Yeah, I get that…I donno, I know my mom wants me to lead, do something maybe with politics, y’know become a senator or something.” She runs her fingers along her arm as she speaks

“But what do you want to do?”  Poe asks with curiosity in his voice, He looks back at her. He would never understand what it’s like to carry the burden of being part of a family with a heritage and lineage like hers, even if she was adopted into the family, it was a pretty big deal to be the child of heroes, probably a lot of pressure.

“Me? I just…I want to see everything the galaxy has to offer, I want to see it all…” She looks over at him surprised to see him watching her, a smirk appears on her face.

“That sounds…perfect.” Poe says quietly

“Well, I could use a co-pilot…”

~current day~

Poe sat with Finn in the mess hall as he pushes his food around.

“You’ve gotta eat.” Finn chided Him as he looked at his food like a sad little mastiff

“I’m not a child Finn…I can figure it out.”

“figure out how to eat? I donno how you’re alive if you haven’t figured that out.”

“Oh ha-ha very funny Finn.” Poe glares at his friend.

“What? I’m just trying to help.” Finn says defensively. Poe sighed and set his fork down.

“I’m sorry, it’s really not you. I just…” His sentence trails off as he sees a red haired woman walk by…its not her and he doesn’t hide his disappointment.

“Its like you want her to walk in here and keep fighting.” Finn chuckles as he sees where Poe was looking.

“Look if we’re fighting we’re talking and that’s better than nothing.” Poe remembers when she wouldn’t even look at him after their big blow out, he felt like he was drowning, at least if they fight, he feels like there’s a chance to survive. Finn shakes his head at his friend and focuses back on his food. Poe knows he doesn’t get it. No one does. Poe gives up on food and leaves the mess hall to try and clear his head. He knows he’ll probably fall back into his normal routine, the only thing that keeps his mind off…everything… Do his reports, go to the cantina, pick up some girl or guy, sleep with them, leave by morning. The Dameron special.

~

Rhoswen sat on her bed her head in her hands, she was so done with today. So done with everything. Nothing made sense anymore. Every damn day in the galaxy made less and less sense. Her father was dead, her brother killed him, and since then she pushed everyone as far away as possible. She couldn’t lose anyone else. It was too much a risk. Then hearing a light knock on the doorframe she looks up. General Leia Organa, Or as Rhoswen knew her…

“Mom… I’m really not in the headspace for another lecture.”

“I’m not here to lecture. This time.” Leia says as she comes to sit by her daughter.

“I’m not sure I’m in the mood for motherly advice either…” She mutters. Leia laughs.

“Well, which would you rather get, a lecture or motherly advice?” Leia asks with her signature smile on her face. Rhoswen sighs.

“I guess I’ll take the motherly advice, Just don’t count on me putting it to use.” she replied with a grimace as she looked at the woman who had taken her in at a young age, and had become her mother.

“I wasn’t counting on it. You were always stubborn, you learned from the best.” Leia says as she put a hand on her thigh. “You don’t have to fight him every step of the way you know? You two used to be close, you practically begged to be on Black Squadron-” Leia was trying her best before she was interrupted

“That was before Starkilller…”

“I understand that…”

“Look Mom, I understand your concern, but I just… after that big fight we had, we both said things that we can’t take back… I don’t think Poe and I will ever recover from that, but that’s for the best, I’m much more Solo than Organa, I do better alone.” She says as she gives Leia a sad smile.

“That’s the thing, Solo’s were never actually very good at being alone, they were just very good at pretending they were.” Leia squeezes her thigh slightly as she returns the smile.

“Well, I’m gonna keep pretending for now…but thanks.”

“Any time…” Leia stands up and starts to walk to the door before turning to her daughter. “Poe…he reminds you of him doesn’t he?”

“With every breath.” She admits

“Me too.”

~

Masterlist

Tag: @femmeanonymelives

[shmowder]

Hiya! Back for round two of sharing my patho characters as i actually changed my mind I do feel comfortable sharing one of my patho self inserts (My self inserts aren’t one to one projections of me for the most part just bits and pieces!!)

This one’s Name is Falin dankovsky, Falin is only a year younger then our dear bachelor and is our very own bachelors lovely spouse their relationship is very stable and loving even if both are very work focused they will always find some time for the other even if it’s something as minor as just sitting in silence, and in the later days of the game their relationship is the only thing keeping the other stable as the common thought is “I need to keep him alive…I will die for him if needed” they absolutely fight over petty things though they love eachother but will argue over things that seems utterly nonsensical to anyone who isn’t them.

Falin is a psychologist! And one of the healers, who really wants to help everyone he comes across he hasn’t become jaded with his job if anything he is far too empathetic towards people often leading him to be pulled into rabbit holes in order to help the sick. He does however often act before thinking and has difficulties asking for help meaning issues that could easily be solved linger for days since he can’t properly advocate for himself. But he is a good listener and offers advice/ solutions to others when he can even if it causes him issues later on, he unfortunately kinda has a martyr mentality where someone must be willing to sacrifice themself to help others and it has to be him nobody else is allowed. 

Falin’s reason for being involved in the main plot is he got a letter asking him to get a man with the last name Stamatin declared mentally sound so he may be executed for a murder which he’s like I can look into it sure but I’d prefer if we got him institutionalized and maybe not murdered for his crime?, Falin leaves for the town a day after Daniil leaves meaning the bachelor has no clue the other is in the town at all until the morning of the second day.

Once falin gets off the train someone attempts to murder him however only succeeds in giving the psychologist a minor concussion, Falin ends up waking up in a grave meeting Clara who claims that she’s his younger sister she tells him ‘we are both born from the same grave’ Falin is like yeah sure why not? I believe this weird child in this graveyard…why shouldn’t I? And then she drops on him “oh you can do miracles too btw” then immediately peace’s out and falin’s like….huh? What the hell does she mean? But falin learns quickly that his blood can reverse death! So the issue is he can’t cure the plague in someone until after they’ve passed and even then that runs the risk of bringing them back completely wrong! But another issue is the question of is that what the dead what have wanted?

Then here’s some Other important character notes: Falin is a trans man which causes him to be slightly paranoid around others due to the fear of people finding out this and turning on him so he is constantly keeping a balance act of hoping nobody notices why he doesn’t have facial hair, why his chest seems rounded and why his voice is so high. he also is borderline so that doesn’t make his fear of others turning on him any the better as Falin is constantly convinced everyone will leave either due to his status as a trans man or because they secretly hate him without knowing that….please get him onto some meds he needs them badly…he’s just having an awful time all around. The only other characters he actively is friendly towards is Daniil, Clara, anna and Eva. with Clara their dynamic is very much so two siblings constantly fighting over literally everything with where their only argument to the other is to the lines of “well I’m older!” And “Well I’m moms favorite so I get to cure the plague” I also want the meta reason for them being siblings being that their dolls were marketed as siblings kinda like Barbie and her sisters or something similar? If that makes sense?

He’s either neutral to everyone else or they are actively hostile towards him, The kains and the Stamatins are ones who are most hostile towards him for obvious reasoning however after Falin’s ability is exposed the kains want him to bring back Simon and aren’t above using the only family Falin has as leverage to get that goal. He actively believes the mistresses as well as why wouldn’t he? Both he and his sister make similar claims so why shouldn’t he believe them as well?. The house he places the most respect into would be the Saburovs for fairly obvious reasoning but he’s very snippy with Alexander at times since falin doesn’t do well with male authority figures at all (it’s the daddy issues!)

During day 5 to day 10 he gets his period leading his exhaustion meter to deplete further his dialogue with others get more snappy and the hunger meter drops quicker, he also has less blood to spare on those days so you can’t bring back any dead bounds and once those bounds are dead for longer then two days they are completely gone meaning Falin can either bleed himself utterly dry or can risk failing others, oh and if he bleeds himself too much he passes out and gets a lecture from Daniil when he comes too. Not overly sure on what his ending would be but it’d probably be him siding with either Daniil or Clara’s way of going about things and aiding their ending.

Oh one bonus thing for fun! Falin and franziska would met a couple times and Falin thanks her for being kind to Clara and gives her some ammo and an egg as a small thanks for being nice to his younger sister but overall they really aren’t overly chill with eachother on account of dankovsky and Franz praying the other dies every single night before bed.

-immune anon back again! Submitting another one of my own character sillies! I do apologize for how long this is lol once I get rambling I can’t stop rambling!! :P

Welcome back! And with another amazing OC, banger after banger I swear.

It's very sweet that their relationship is stable with the Bachelor; Daniil isn't the easiest person to get along with, let alone share a life with. He still deserves love like anyone else, both of them constantly putting in the effort to ensure each other's comfort and needs are met is the epitome of love.

And only one year younger! Does that mean they met in university 👀 or high school sweethearts? I love relationships that are built on friendships.

Fighting over petty things is just Daniil's love language dw, he is just built like that. Happy to see Falin give him a taste of his own medicine too.

God, it's genius how you weaved him into the story! Alexander just sent a letter to the first psychologist he got recommended because he's still not over how Peter weaselled his way out of punishment.

The both of them having no idea they're going to the same place. Daniil is on one of his work trips to meet a supposed immortal man after an old colleague, Isidor Burakh, sent him an invitation offering arrangements.

While Falin received a letter asking for a psychological evaluation of a man whose last name sounds really similar to that famous architect who built the Capital bridge.

THE CLARA SUBPLOT I CAN'T

IT'S SO FITTING OF HER

-

Falin: So how are we siblings?

Clara: Wouldn't you like to know, miracle boy.

-

I absolutely adore the meta reason of them being siblings! They come in packs! Do not separate!!! oh, my heart, that's so precious. Even tho they just met, they feel this connection as if they've known each other from a long time ago.

Maybe the toy set was marketed as the "Miracle siblings!" or something. The two sandcastle kids took it literally but then had a fight and separated Falin and Clara.

The "I'm mom's favourite" line took me out.

Finally, some bpd rep. God I relate to him so much, that paranoia really never goes away and it blends itself so well with your own thoughts that it's hard to separate the shadows from the truth.

Bpd is also a personality disorder, rather than a chemical imbalance in the brain like depression. Meds can't "cure" it, only lessen the symptoms. It's a learned pattern of behaviour that one must unlearn.

Why do I feel Alexander would be lowkey touched by someone being snippy with him in a daddy issues way? Sure, he will never show it, but at least he got to experience the equivalent of being a dad dealing with a moody teenager for like a couple minutes. He would never tolerate any disrespect towards his wife, however. Falin is welcome to blame and curse him out as long as Katerina's name stays off his tongue.

There is a symbolic parallel between him bleeding himself out to bring people back to life, equating his blood to the worth of gold, then being hit with his period, preventing him from using his miracles for a while.

It's having a choice that's the moral. One was him giving his blood out of his own agency, taking it out of his own body and using it for good.

The other was blood forcibly being taken out from him in the form of a period. Suddenly that blood is draining him and exhausting, removing all his agency as he has no choice but to endure it. It especially hurts more with how much he is worried about others figuring out he is trans.

The one thing special and extremely helpful is being twisted and weaponise against him, threatening to expose his identity while stealing away his magic.

I'm glad to see Falin and Franziska are friends! or at least know each other. I love when OCs are connected and have intertwined stories.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

🎁🎁🎁 Make Good Ones

A SNEAKRET SANTA GIFT DRABBLE

A/N: Merry December and Happy Holidays, everyone! Don’t mind me, I’m just here to leave another gift under the tree. These are my way of giving back to some of the lovely content creators here whose work brings me joy. I tried to personalize them a little bit for each person they’re dedicated to, but they’re just as much my gift to anyone who has ever shared their work or who has ever read mine. Thank you for being lovely <3 

Gift Tag: @something-tofightfor​ - Who gave this response when I asked her “Joel or Jack” -  “I hate you for making me choose.” - I know, it was rude of me. But I was preeeeeeetty sure which way she was going to lean, so when the answer was Joel this basically started writing itself. The prompts I chose to work in for this one were ornaments, wrapping paper, & Christmas tree. Rachael, your Joel is so incredibly special, and the way that you write him - and all of your characters - is a huge inspiration to me as a writer. I have you to thank for introducing me to this fictional (pixel) man in the first place, so I truly hope you enjoy these few thousand words about him at the holidays. Thank you for being so goddamn wonderful. I frickin love you! 

WC: 3,198 

Warnings: canon typical angst, discussion about loss, no actual spoilers though, and it’s overall a fluff. This is stand alone and is not connected to Survivor Blues or anything else I have written for Joel. 

It had started off as a simple question one night at the end of November - you asking Joel what his and Ellie’s plans for Christmas were that year. He’d told you that they were going to have dinner with Tommy and Maria on Christmas Eve, but that the following day they had no plans, so you had invited them to your place, telling him that the holiday was your favorite and that you would love to spend it with the two of them. 

It had turned into something more when he’d surprised you by asking you why it was your favorite holiday.

That was a story that revealed far more than the actual answer to his innocuous question, but as the two of you lay together on your couch one night, a fire that he’d built warming the space and soft music coming from the record player in the corner, you decided that there was no one else that you’d rather tell it to. “It’s a long story,” you said with a sigh, leaning into him. “You sure you want me to-” 

He answered by kissing the crown of your head and mumbling, “I’ve got time.” Alright. You relaxed into him as he shifted his legs so that you could fit between them. He asked, so… so here goes.  

“So, my grandparents had one of those old bottle brush looking things from the 70’s.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “You know, those silver ones that looked more like pipe-cleaners than pine trees?”

You felt the rumble of his chuckle against your back as it left his chest. “Yeah, I remember those.” His work-worn fingers slid over your knuckles and you spread yours to accommodate them, letting him drag you closer as he tightened his grip. “Pretty sure our Grandma had one, too.”  

He kissed your temple, the bristle of his facial hair gently scraping your skin, his warm breath fanning over it. You closed your eyes at the sensation like you always did, focusing on the way you felt the rise and fall of his lungs, the steady thrum of his heartbeat at your spine. We’re alive. We’re here. We have this. You swept your thumb over his pinky finger and let out a hum. “Did she?” You laughed. “I think everyone’s did.”  

He snorted. “Probably. It was what was popular then, right?” 

“It was,” you agreed. “Though I really don’t know why. They were so… goddamn awful, Joel.”

You could still picture it standing in front of the window, your grandpa’s recliner moved into the corner so the tree could take center stage in the small living room. All the ornaments your mom, your aunts and your uncle crafted and collected as kids were mixed with antique baubles and retro style glass starbursts, and keepsake frames with old photos secured to the faux branches with red ribbons. Combined with the hundreds of brightly colored lights that used to captivate you every time you saw them, the tree - despite being a hideous thing on its own - always seemed beautiful and magical to you in your memory. 

As his gravelly laughter settled down, you opened your eyes and sighed. “But my cousins and I loved going over there around the holidays. We were all pretty close in age and for the most part we got along and…” Your throat suddenly became tight, but you swallowed and kept going. Because I want him to know this. Want him to know me. “And we loved looking at all the old ornaments. Some of them we’d even take off the tree and play with.” 

Joel let out a burst of air through his nose that you felt against your scalp. “Oh, I bet your grandma loved that.” 

The visual of the woman raising her arms and her voice in utter disapproval from the kitchen doorway while the eight of you scattered away from the tree in a fit of giggles was one that you were happy you could still so easily recall. We were trouble. Sorry, Nana. 

Deep down - even then, as she shook a wooden spoon in the air - you knew she loved the trouble you all caused. 

“To be fair, she just didn’t want anything to get broken or for any of us to cut ourselves on shards of glass that was probably decorated with toxic paint.”  

The tip of his nose trailed over the side of your head, and then he dropped his lips there as he spoke. “Sounds about right.” 

You hummed at the way his words vibrated through you, adding to the warmth of his body wrapped around yours, and though you would have liked to stay in that position - and in Joel’s arms - indefinitely, the next part of the story you were telling was the most important, and you wanted to look at him as you told it. Squeezing his hand before you loosened your fingers, you turned in his hold. Early on in your relationship, and before you could even call it one, if you would have moved or shifted away from him the same way that you just did, he would have pulled away. He would have taken his hands off of you, possibly would have even left the bed or the couch under either under the assumption that you wanted to get away from him, or that he shouldn’t want to be so close. Now though, after almost a full year of being with him, he hardly ever pulled away. And I never want him to. 

You settled yourself so that your back was against the couch cushion and your side was pressed to his chest, and you waited for his arms to fold around you before continuing. “We weren’t really interested in the fragile ones though. She had this set of little… they were Santa’s reindeer, and they were all wearing knit sweaters with their names on them. You know, Dasher and Prancer and…” You trailed off, circling one wrist to imply the rest of the reindeer and Joel nodded. “Since there were the same number of them as there were of us, we used to all claim our favorite one and-” You laughed, even as the memory began to stir something bittersweet in your heart, shrugging away the thickness in your throat. “I don’t know what we did, really, just… played with them.” 

Joel’s dark eyes, brightened by the orange glow of the fire light, never left your face even as you took a pause to wet your lips and blink back the tears that you knew would eventually end up falling. Even though it’s a funny story it’s… I miss them. But it was one that you wanted and needed to tell. The point of making memories is to keep them alive. The motion of Joel’s roughened thumb sweeping across the strip of your waist that was visible between the hem of your shirt and the top of your sweatpants grounded you enough to keep going. 

“One year, I think I was nine or ten maybe? My grandma noticed that Dasher was missing. She had all of us turn the house upside down looking for it. Then she had us all turn out our pockets and-” You laughed again, but this time a stray tear did make it past your lashes, rolling slowly down your cheek. I’m not sad though. “Well, long story short, one of us stole him.” 

Moving his hand from your hip to your face, Joel used his knuckle to wipe under your eye. “Lemme guess,” his expression was softer than it usually was, even as he narrowed his eyes. “No one ever fessed up.” 

You pressed your lips together and shook your head, even as his palm curved around your cheek. “Never. We never found out who took him. But-” You raised one eyebrow. “It’s a good thing one of us did, because about three years later my grandparents’ basement flooded, and all their decorations got ruined.” 

Although you were all happy and relieved that your grandparents had been able to get to safety before the storm had gotten too bad, it was a sad time for your family because of the loss of so many heirlooms and keepsakes. “That’s shitty,” Joel mumbled apologetically, lips dipping into a frown. 

“Yeah, it was.” You sighed. “But then that next Christmas, Dasher showed up on their new tree.” 

Blinking away another few tears, you broke into a smile as you recalled what it meant to everyone - your aunts and uncles, your mom and grandparents, you and all your cousins - to see that silly little deer, his sweater slightly pulled and one hoof a little dinged up - amidst all of the new filler ornaments your grandma had gotten until they could replenish their collection. That was such a good day. 

Joel gave you a small grin, the lines and shadows on his face seeming to fade as he did. “I’m glad it made its way back.” Oh, just wait, I haven’t even… “You ever find out who took him in the first place?”

You shook your head. “Nope. No clue. No one ever confessed, and if anyone knew who did it, they didn’t rat them out.” 

He hummed. “Somthin’ to be said for that.” 

There is. You agreed. We always had each other’s backs. “When we all got older, after…” You took a breath. “After our grandparents passed away, we decided that every Christmas we should take turns putting Dasher on our tree. We’d pass him off at Thanksgiving on years that we all got together, or else we’d mail him to each other a few weeks before Christmas.” 

“That’s a nice tradition.” 

“It is, Joel. It’s…” You turned your face away, just for a second, to pull yourself together. I should just… show him. When you turned back towards him, you saw the question in his eyes. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” You leaned in and dropped your lips to his cheek, just above the line of his beard, and then you stood from the couch.

He didn’t say anything as you padded over to the hall closet, the only sound in the room coming from the shifting logs in the fireplace and your socked footsteps on the hardwood, but you felt his eyes still on you even as you opened the closet door. Reaching up for the highest shelf, you pulled down the cardboard box that was there and took the small reindeer from it. You turned it over in your hand, feeling the stitching that read the animal’s name, poking at one of the points of its antlers, and then you closed the closet and brought the figurine out. 

“Well, shit, is that…” He nodded at the anthropomorphic reindeer that you held, one arm over the back of the couch as he watched you reenter the room. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed, your voice catching as you came back to sit next to him. Bending one knee, you drew that leg up under you and handed the ornament over. 

As soon as it was in his hands, you realized that while you’d displayed the ornament on your tree every year since you’d arrived in Jackson, Joel was the first person that you actually shared its story with. As he looked more closely at it, turning it in his hand, the firelight glinted off the broken face of his watch, and you were reminded of the night that Joel had shared the item’s importance and meaning with you. Seeing both his watch and your ornament, relics of your former lives side by side like that, hit you hard - but like the memories connected to Dasher, the wave of emotion wasn’t painful or sad. It was deep, and it swelled in your chest, but it wasn’t trying to drag you down. It just means… You swallowed, looking up at him as he continued to stare at what he held. It means we know each other and that’s… He finally blinked, his focus shifting up to your face. That’s everything. 

You cleared your throat and Joel leaned forward to gently place the ornament on the coffee table. His newly emptied hand came to rest on your knee, and you glanced down before placing yours on top of it and continuing on. “It um… 2013 was supposed to be my turn to have him.” You sniffed, took a breath and let it out slowly. “Wasn’t expecting to get anything in the mail until closer to Christmas, but then the first week of September I got a package from my cousin Devon.” You could still see the swirling letters of her handwriting on the note that accompanied the small box on your doorstep. “She had just taken a job offer in Toronto and she was moving up there at the end of the month, but-” 

You didn’t have to finish your sentence. You both knew how September had ended that year. 

So you didn’t. At least, you didn’t finish it the way Joel expected you to. “But she didn’t want to pay international shipping rates to get it to me if she waited until Thanksgiving.” 

That was what her note had said - a joke, but also the truth - along with the phrase they all always included when Dasher got passed around. Make good ones this year. 

“So that’s… this little guy is my thing. My thing from before. My…” 

“It's the thing that reminds you.” He cut in, saving you from having to find the words to describe how much this inherently worthless ornament made from plastic and yarn actually meant to you. “Reminds you why you keep fighting. Reminds you of… of things worth thinkin’ about.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, swiping the heel of your palm under your eyes. 

Joel reached for you then, drawing you close to his chest and wrapping you in his arms again, and you let him. You laid your cheek on his shoulder and felt his large hand cradle the back of your head, and then you felt his lips at your ear, your name coming from them. “Thank you for tellin’ me all that.” You kissed his neck in response, targeting one of the freckles there. “So Christmas is big for you, huh?”

You gave a small laugh that you knew he both felt and heard. “Christmas memories are big for me, Joel, but…” Picking your head up, you looked at the man that you had fallen in love with over the past year, hoping that you got to spend countless more holidays with him. “But yeah, you could say that.” The story finished, your history shared, you turned your body and took the same position that you were in when you started the conversation, Joel following your lead and tucking your spine to his sternum. “That’s why I conserve Christmas lights. I’ve found a few strings of ‘em that still work while out on sweeps and supply runs but I know eventually I won’t be able to find functioning ones anymore so… I only use one or two strands on my tree every year so I can make them last longer.” 

Joel let out a breath in an amused huff. “Can’t have a tree with no lights, right?” 

“Right.” 

That had been the end of that conversation, and shortly after, that night. Both of you had fallen asleep on your couch in front of the fire, only making it into the bedroom when Joel woke you up in the middle of the night. 

So when he brought it up again with just two weeks to go until Christmas, pulling a small oddly shaped and crudely wrapped package from his pocket after shedding his jacket and hanging it next to yours on the hook, you titled your head to the side in question. “Joel? What’s…” 

“I know it’s not Christmas yet, but this is… this is part’a your gift and it’s…” He handed you the package, the paper crinkling as it passed from his grasp to yours. “I wanted you to have it now.” 

His eyes darted to the tree that you’d set up in the living room. It was just the top few feet of a tree, really, since you only had a handful of things to hang on it - a few photos you’d managed to save through everything, some pinecones and cinnamon sticks you’d bundled together with ribbons and string, strands of buttons you’d found, one string of multicolored lights, and of course, Dasher the reindeer. 

You glanced down at the wrapping and immediately had to laugh. “Let me guess. Ellie helped with this?” 

Joel shrugged somewhat sheepishly. “Well I wasn’t able to find any Christmas wrapping paper and Maria didn’t have any so I asked her if we could make this work and…” He trailed off as you ran your fingers over the drawn on Santa hats and holly wreaths that Ellie had used markers to add to dinosaur themed birthday wrap. “We had to make do.” 

You felt your heart flip as you laughed, shaking your head and taking your bottom lip between your teeth. “It’s perfect. Very festive.” 

“Well, aren’t you gonna open it?” He crossed his arms and stuck his chin out at the package you held.

“Alright.” You carefully slipped your finger under the paper and lifted it, not wanting to rip it and ruin Ellie’s work. I can definitely add this to the tree somehow. You thought of Devon’s message and the instruction to “make good ones”, and you couldn’t think of a better memory to add than one that would mark the addition of Ellie and Joel in your life. 

But that thought was quickly paused when you pulled the gift from the paper and saw what it was. Oh, Joel. You sucked in a breath as the pieces of wood in your hand clanked together. Oh, he… he- “Did you make this?” The words were barely a whisper, but even if he hadn’t heard the question you already knew the answer. He did. He carved these. He- 

“Yeah. They’re… Can you tell what they are? Ellie said she could, but I don’t know if-“

“Lights.” The breath you sucked in shuddered as you stared at the string of small hand-carved and painted wooden bulbs in your hand. He’d shaped them to look just like the old fashioned ones that your grandparents had and attached five of them together to mimic a whole strand, knotting them off so that they stayed in place and didn’t slide along the “wire”. Oh, Joel, you… 

“They are.” Tears spilled over your bottom lashes as he brought one hand up to rub at the back of his neck like he did when he was uncertain. “I wanted to make sure your tree always had lights on it, even if you couldn’t replace the real ones anymore. I know it ain’t the same, but I-“ 

“Joel.” He stopped talking and stepped closer to you, hands going to your waist. This. This is a good one. “They’re not the same.” You raised onto your toes to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, and then you left a kiss to the scar that crossed the bridge of it. “They’re better.” 

.

.

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[aceontheline]

I Have Some Thoughts

T//W: I talk about some bad past relationships—

So. Bryce Pinkham's voice really SHINES through here. I admire the emotion he put into some of the verses here in the song. At one point during it, it sounds like Stolas is about to break down crying... You can HEAR it in Bryce's voice.

Bryce is a man with quite the musical range & I think this song shows it off more than anything else he's sang thus far. Maybe tied for the lullaby for Octavia.

.... Past Bad Relationship Talk under the cut

I can relate a bit too hard to this song. I've been in both character's shoes here.

I've been in Stolas' shoes when I was giving everything I could to my partners & they gave nothing in return, or very minimal. I was always wondering if it was something wrong with me or... "No! It's me. What am I doing wrong?" Like no girly... It wasn't you. I was almost never you. You gave 120% and they maybe gave 10-15% on a good day.

Also, I feel like I am currently in Blitz's shoes. Everyone in my life shows me love in some manner, like Stolas. But I back away and become very distrusting. Because love was almost always conditional for me...

"Why are you showing me love? I don't deserve it" is the common line.

OR

I'm in Blitz's shoes mainly cuz once someone shows me love, I'm immediately not trusting it.

"Walls you put up just to live"

... That line hit ESPECIALLY hard for me. Because yeah. Due to these past awful relationships, I put up walls to make sure I wouldn't be hurt again. Blitz put up his walls after his mom died in that fire & him + Verosika's relationship. Not to mention the clear favoritism from Buckzo (his dad) toward Fizzarolli...

Yeah, this song made me FEEL things.

[genuinerio]

CHAPTER II. The Weirdo On Maple Street.

She’s A Rainbow ↠ 「 STEVE HARRINGTON 」

PAIRINGS: Steve Harrington (eventual love interest), Jonathan Byers x sibling!OC, Joyce Byers x daughter!OC.

WARNINGS: the following mentions of both the usage and talk of drugs.

WORDS: 7, 203.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the gifs used nor original plot lines of Stranger Things however, I do own the storylines of my OC, Nadine. Italics are both Nadine’s thoughts and memories and third chapter for “Oh, Darling,” is in the works, thank you everyone for being patient. Also, I am extremely sorry for such a long wait as I had been very conflicted on a particular storyline of Nadine’s that happens in this chapter but since I could no longer decide on the storyline, I decided to scrap the whole thing and start over. Another thing is when it comes to my writing, I can be quite a perfectionist. Happy Stranger Things Day! Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading!

Monday, November 7th 1983.

WAKING UP TO A THROBBING SENSATION OF AN AWOKEN HEADACHE, Nadine who was stretching out her arms while she remained sitting up in bed, had begun to notice her picture frame; a picture containing of her and her family. It wasn’t Jonathan nor Joyce that she had noticed in particular but of her dear little brother, Will that her face immediately fell into glumness. Getting out of bed, Nadine grabbed a bottle of painkillers and carried on with getting ready for a new day. Looking around her bedroom, she had glanced at her Norman Whiteside poster, who was one of her favorite soccer players that she had received as a gift from her brothers and to whom was quite cute had she added. As she kept glancing away, she noticed her portraits, majority of them having her family as the subject for her artwork, her family being her biggest support whether it was with her art, her soccer team or simply grades. But this particular art piece, irked Nadine because it was one of Will that she had painted of him as he had modeled for her to paint.  

While changing out of her previous clothing and into new clothes, Nadine had kept thinking about her brother and where exactly he had gone. She couldn’t help but feel immense guilt based on the fact that if she hadn’t been busy that night, he wouldn’t had been missing.

This is all your fault, Nadine. Will is missing because of you and everything is all of your fault.

Trying to shake the toxic thoughts in her mind, Nadine had begun to carry on going downstairs only to foresee her mother and Jonathan sitting down to eat breakfast, “All right, Mom. Breakfast is ready.”

“What? No, be careful of the poster.” A distraught Joyce had commented to Jonathan. As Nadine carefully walked into the kitchen, understandingly not wanting to be there, she couldn’t help but feel awful for her mother’s current mental state.

“Yeah, okay. All right.” Jonathan had placed the breakfast plates in front of Joyce, “I can’t eat.” Jonathan had attempted to get his mother to eat, “I just need you to eat, Mom.”

“Listen. Listen, the Xerox place opens in, like, 30 minutes.” Her mother mentioned sniffling as Nadine sat down at the table. “Yeah.”

“And I don’t want you to go alone and I don’t think Nadine will be able to go with you since she has soccer practice.” Joyce had mentioned as Nadine forced herself to remain silent but nodded in acceptance, “No, we know. We told you, we got it.” Jonathan had mentioned as he and Nadine were aware of Joyce’s fear.

“So, I’m gonna have Karen take you, ‘cause I should be here.” Joyce had informed Jonathan as Nadine nodded her head, “Actually, I think I can go, instead. I’ll just explain to my coach that I have something else going on.”

“But Nadine, this game is really important for the team.” Joyce had tried to explain but Nadine cut her off trying to reason with her mother, “Yeah, but finding Will is way more important for us, for me.”

“Okay.”

“We need to make, what, 200, 300 copies? How much is a copy?” Joyce had asked both of her children, “Yeah, okay. Okay, Mom. Mom.”

“Ten cents? If we... ten cents-“ Joyce had begun to stammer as Nadine and Jonathan tried to calm her down, “Mom. Mom. Mom!”

“You can’t get like this okay?” Jonathan had advised as him and Nadine had comforted their mother as she begun to stutter, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No? It’s okay.” Both Jonathan and Nadine had stated, only for a knock on the door to remove them from the comforting of their mother, “We’ve been waiting six hours.”

“I know. I came as soon as I could.” Nadine immediately recognized that voice once she heard it, Hopper. “Six hours.”

“A little bit of trust here, alright?” Hopper had motioned as he shut the door once Nadine had walked carefully into the living room trying to get information but not being assumed to be eavesdropping. “We’ve been searching all night. Went all the to Cartersville.”

“And?” Her mother had asked, looking at least a little grimmer of hope that Will would be found, “Nothing.” The word that had caused Nadine to drop her head down in a complete distressed state.

“God.”

“Flo says you got a phone call?” Hopper had commented, trying to place Joyce’s mind on newfound faith, “Oh yeah.” Joyce had remembered throughout her sniffles as all four of them walked to the wallphone in the living room.

“Storm barbecued this pretty good.” Hopper had discussed as he held onto the burnt phone, “The storm?” Joyce had asked, believing the cause to be completely different. “What else?”

“You’re saying that, that’s not weird?”

“No, it’s weird.” Hopper had freely admitted, “Can we, like, trace who made the call?” Jonathan had asked as Nadine joined in, “Contact the provider? Or something-“

“No, it doesn’t work like that. Now, uh, you’re sure it was Will? Because Flo said you just heard some breathing.” Hopper had suggested but Joyce stood her ground and insisted as her voice began to break, “No. it was him. It was Will. And he was scared. And then something-“ Nadine and Jonathan both immediately began to comfort their mother.

“It was probably just a prank call. It was somebody trying to scare you.”

“Who would do that?” Jonathan had wondered, “Well, this things been on TV. It brings out all the crazies, you know. False leads, prank calls, uh...”

“No, Hopper, it was not a prank. It was him.” Joyce declared, believing she knew exactly what she heard but unfortunately, Hopper didn’t believe so, “Joyce.”

“Come on, how about a little trust here?” Joyce demanded of Hopper, “What, you think I’m...I’m making this up?”

“I’m not saying that you’re making it up. All I’m saying is it’s an emotional time for you.”

“And you think I don’t know my own son’s breathing? Wouldn’t you know your own daughter’s?” Joyce had declared in a fit of protest, something that had irked something in Hopper as Joyce continued to sniffle.

“You hear from, uh, Lonnie yet?” Hopper had asked in a moment of tension as he began to move into another position of the room, “No.”

“It’s been long enough. I’m having him checked out.” Hopper mentioned as he placed his sheriff’s hat on his head and began to walk outside, “Oh, come on! You’re wasting your time.” Joyce reacted as she sighed.

Nadine had swept her mother into a hug as she began to mumble comforting words and the fact that Will will be found soon as Jonathan followed Hopper outside, “Hey, Hopper. Hopper. Let me go.” Jonathan began panting walking up to Hopper’s police truck.

“I’m sorry?”

“To Lonnie’s. Nadine could overhear Jonathan’s plea as she heard his conversation with Hopper, “You know, if Will’s there, it means he ran away. And if he sees the cops, he’ll think he’s in trouble. He’ll.:. He’ll hide. You know, he’s good at hiding.”

“Yeah? Well cops are good at finding. Okay? Stay here with your mom and Nadine. She needs you, she needs both of you.”

As Jonathan had walked back into the house, Nadine had walked towards him, “Jonathan? Are you going to visit Lonnie?” Something that she immediately knew was true and despite the trauma that Loonie had put her through, she loved her dear brother and was willing to suck it up and find him at all costs.

“Yeah, want to come?” A nod of Nadine giving Jonathan a yes of confirmation because despite the two not being as close, Jonathan still believed that he should include Nadine in any searchings for Will because he is both their little brother and they care deeply for him.

As both Jonathan and Joyce had left for school and work, Nadine had opened the cabinet found within the kitchen only to find multiple bottles of medication. One in particular, her ADHD medication, something Nadine had been diagnosed with since she was a young girl considering her hyperactivity, easily distraction and infamously, her exaggerated emotional responses.

Despite advised not to over do it, Nadine when the girl ran out of various of drugs, like heroin or speed, she would turn towards popping multiple tablets of her ADHD medication as an exception of an excuse for a drug induced high.

Eventually, grabbing her backpack, Nadine had left to attend school; something that she had admitted to being awfully early to this particular morning than most of other times. Arriving to Hawkins high school, she was immediately greeted by her closest friends, Steve whom with being the kind friend he is had often walked her to her first period class considering the fact that he wanted to make sure she was alright.

Sitting throughout her first period class, Nadine couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmed with thoughts about Will and the guilt she placed over herself. This is all your fault, if you had stayed home that night, he wouldn’t have gone anywhere. Trying her best to control her mind to think about a different topic, she just couldn’t. The girl couldn’t help the heartbreak within herself as she processed the theories on where she and Jonathan could find, where they could possibly find him.

The ringing of the school bell had echoed throughout her brain had awoken her back to reality. “Nadine, I need to talk to you.” Gulping her breath at Mr. Carter’s words, Nadine slowly walked up to his desk, the girl hoped that it wasn’t anything nerve wracking because she was already going through so much as it was already.

“Nadine, you’re failing my class and I need you to begin to put the effort into your work.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Carter. I’ve just had been going through a lot, with my family and my brother’s disappearance with soccer practice...I-.” Trying to explain her reasoning of failing his class, Nadine was cut off.

“Nadine, now, I understand. Tell you what, I’ll give you an exception but please, catch up. Alright?”

His words had comforted her and she deeply needed this opportunity because she couldn’t let her family down. Her family was already going through so much and she didn’t want to put more stress on them than there already was.

“I have soccer practice after school and then after that, work but I guess, I could tell my coach that I need to take the time to study. I’m sure he’ll understand.” She was indeed correct, Particularly, Nadine’s coach was an understanding man and someone who Nadine had valued as a father figure besides Hopper of course, considering they were more like her father than Loonie ever was.

Attempting to wash her worries away, Nadine had started to play with her fingers as she walked into the school’s hallway. Walking towards her friendship circle but in a slower manner to collect her thoughts, she could overhear Steve mention to Nancy, “My dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, ‘cause you know, she doesn’t trust him.”

“Good call.”

“So are you in?” Steve had asked to a confused Nancy, “In for what?”

“No parents? Big house.” Carol informed to Nancy, “A party?” A gullible Nancy questioned which had caused Nadine to want to stop and facepalm right in the middle of the school hallway.

“Ding! ding, ding!” Carol teasingly mocked as Tommy chuckled at the joke.

“It’s Tuesday.”

With Steve trying to convince Nancy to attend his house party despite her unawareness that they don’t care that it’s a weekday to throw a party. “It’s Tuesday! Oh my god.” She could hear Tommy mocking Nancy’s remark.

“Come on. It’ll be low key. It’ll just be us. What do you say? Are you in or are you out?” It was clear that Nancy would need to think about this situation a bit more.

Finding her friends including Nancy and Barb in the hallway, Nadine had quickly been alerted of a house party that Steve would host whenever his parents were out of town which was a lot. “Dean, Steve is throwing a party tonight since his parents aren’t home, you coming?” Carol had mentioned, calling Nadine out by her nickname that her closest loved ones would call her.

“Definitely!” Nadine was known to be quite the socialist, quite opposite to her twin brother who was a very introverted boy. Most people were surprised to find out that they were twins nor even related because their differences overpowered their similarities the two had shared. “But wait. I just realised I can’t!”

“What? Why not?” Both Steve and Carol questioned in unison, “I have ‘work shift’ tonight and I can’t call it off because my family and I really need the money. Even if my boss is a a fucking asshole.” Nadine applying air quotes to the words of the work shift because it wasn’t always a work shift but rather, her own personal hell but she couldn’t pass this up either unfortunately.

“Nadine. Your boss is full of shit, why do that to yourself? I’m sure that it won’t matter if you miss one shift. Besides, your boss is not really giving you a work shift but rather, his only way to take advantage because he likes to take advantage.” Tommy advised, which caused Nadine to roll her eyes. She was no doubt aware of this but she didn’t want to put anymore stress on her family than there already was already.

“Wow! Thanks Tommy, for such comforting words. Besides I know that, if my family finds out though, then I’m so screwed. My family is going through enough as it is.” Nadine’s sarcastic comment failed to give her a grimmer of comfort like it always had this time at least.

“I think I can attend afterwards but can we please talk about something else, please?” With those words, her wish was granted as Carol looked beyond her, “Oh, God. Look.”

A phrase that caused Nadine and her friends to turn around only to see that her friends were now placing all their attention into watching Jonathan as he plastered the “find Will” posters that him and Nadine had spent the previous night creating.

“Oh god. That’s depressing.” Nadine pressed her tongue to her cheek in a fit of anger. Despite her friend’s treatment to Jonathan, Nadine had vowed to never treat her brother in the way her friends do because despite them being at complete odds and regardless, he is still in fact her brother and that’s something that will never change whatsoever.

“Should we say something?” Nancy asks while giving a quick glance at Nadine, “I don’t think he speaks.” Shaking her head at the annoyance, Nadine mentioned to Carol, “Fuck off.”

“How much you want to bet he killed him?” Tommy’s words is what immediately enraged Nadine as she clenched her jaw but tries to remain silent in a calming manner but that does not stop her from speaking in a furious state, “Shut up!” Steve motioned.

“Fuck you Tommy, I will beat the shit out of you if another word comes out of your mouth like that again!” Her words causing Tommy to raise his hands up.

A tensed up and protective Nadine had mentioned, something that her friends may have not gotten an answer to but Nancy was surely aware of that statement considering she was aware of the girl being a Byers child as Tommy raised his hand in a supposed defenceless manner.

Despite her strained relationship with her twin brother, Nadine no doubt still cared deeply for her family and still defended them too particularly Jonathan whom her friends would pick on.

Holding her binders in her arms, Nadine had decided to ditch her friends in order to help her brother in posting find me posters onto every place and every wall they can find only to notice that Nancy was following closely behind her.

Standing close by to Jonathan, she took some posters of Will and assisted him in plastering them as she heard Nancy, “Hey.”

“Oh, hey.”

As Nadine could overhear Nancy trying to make conversation with Jonathan, she couldn’t help but think that despite her dislike of Nancy, this would make Jonathan’s day especially since he’s harbored a crush on her since childhood, “I just…I wanted to say, you know, um…I’m sorry about everything.” As Jonathan and Nancy glanced back at Steve, Carol, Tommy and Barb.

“Everyone’s thinking about you. You too, Nadine.” As much as Nancy tried to make nice with her words, Nadine despised pity and constant sympathy and would rather just ignore it altogether despite people deeming her as heartless and not caring about anyone but herself.

“It sucks.”

“Yeah.” Jonathan sadly said as him and Nancy stared at one another.

“I’m sure he’s fine. He’s a smart kid. She could overhear Nancy reassure Jonathan alongside herself but the conversation between the two was interrupted by the school bell ringing.

“I have to go. Chemistry test.” Nancy had chuckled in explanation.

“Yeah.”

“Good luck.” The girl had hoped for them both.

“Thanks.”

“Hey, Nadine!” Overhearing and recognizing the voice of one of her teammates on the school’s soccer team, Marlee which caused the blonde to turn her head.

“Hey, Marlee! What’s up?” Marlee was a teammate and classmate that Nadine was close with and among the nicest of their team, some were also nice but not as much as Marlee.

“We’re going to meet at the gym, this time at 3:30. Don’t be late because coach Johnson will be scolding.” Her teammate had teased but Nadine had just remembered, “Shit! I can’t! I have something to do today plus work.”

“But, what about our big game? You’re one of our best players and among coaches favorites plus practice means a lot to the team.” Marlee had tried to get Nadine to reconsider to no avail.

“I know, but, what I have to do is more important. I tried to telling him but could you because I couldn’t find him?”

“Yeah, sure.” Marlee nodded as the two shared a hug in reassuring, “Thanks! You’re the best.”

Glancing at Marlee and Nancy walking away, she noticed Steve was waiting for her, “Come on, Nadine!”

“I can’t, I got to go.” She could tell Steve didn’t quite understand what she meant, “Don’t worry. I’ll see you later!”

As she turned back to Jonathan and overhearing over the intercom, “At 8:00 pm. tonight, there will be an assembly on the football field. In support of Will Byers and his family. All are encouraged to attend. Volunteer sign-ups for search parties are still available in the office.”

Hearing that caused Nadine to subtly shake her head, as much as she loved her brother, she hated the once again feeling over people constantly comforting her. Her and Jonathan left the school and went on their way to their estranged father, Lonnie’s household.

Silence within sitting in the car with Jonathan on their destination to Lonnie’s as she fiddled with the radio felt uncomfortable to Nadine, the eldest Byers children didn’t have much in common like they used to nor discussed greatly either, the two were simply on completely different pages and paths now. Despite how badly, Jonathan wanted to deny, he felt Nadine was now, one of those jerks that consisted of Steve and their shared friends.

Looking up and glancing at one another before staring down as the song, “Should I Stay or Should I Go,” began to play on the car’s stereo. The song from The Clash had embarked a shared sweet memory between the two and their little brother. A bittersweet feeling of reminiscing about said memory brought a smile to Nadine’s lips.

She remembered, walking inside her home after a long tiresome shift and on her way to her bedroom, Nadine felt she was over it. Since, her room was after Will’s he noticed her heading towards it but called out as he was listening to a song with Jonathan. “Nadine, over here.”

The lyrics from the song echoing throughout the hallway, “Should I Stay or Should I Go.”

Will had called out as him and Jonathan were listening to “Should I Stay or Should I Go.” And he wanted his sister to join them. “What’s up?”

“Listen to the song with us.” As much as she was exhausted from her shift, she still enjoyed hanging out with her family, especially Will as they were all very close family. In doing this, she joined.

Walking into and sitting in his room, she noticed Will and Jonathan bobbing their heads, a clear sign of them enjoying the song. Jonathan questioned, “You like it?”

“Yeah, it’s cool.” Will had confirmed, “What do you think, Dean?”

“It’s one of my favorites. Definitely.”

Responding back to their brother, “All right, you can keep the mix if you want.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. All the best stuff’s on there. Joy Division, Bowie, Television, The Smiths. It’ll totally change your life.”

“Totally.”

Nadine had agreed as she pointed out, “Bowie and Joy Division are the best though. You’ll enjoy them in particular among the others too.”

In an uncomfortable position, they could overhear their mother faintly, “Where the hell are you, Lonnie?”

Joyce muttered indistinctly, “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear it.”

Noticing her brother’s sad expression, she sat on his bed and attempted to comfort him, “Don’t be sad.” She had motioned for Jonathan to shut the door, “This is ridiculous! I’m so sick of your excuses.”

The music continued to play but as they stayed inside, Jonathan lowered the volume. “He’s not coming, is he?” Will’s questioning of them both caused Nadine and Jonathan to share a glance, “Um, let’s not talk about that.”

“Do you even like baseball?”

Will had denied, “No, but… I don’t know. It’s fun to go with him sometimes.”

Nadine had asked, “Come on. Has he ever done anything with you that you actually like?” Jonathan had added on, “Yeah, you know, like the arcade or something?”

Will tried to recall, “I don’t know.”

Nadine had insisted, “No, all right? He hasn’t. He’s trying to force you to like normal things.” In stating this, Jonathan had added on advising, “And you shouldn’t like things because people tell you you’re supposed to. Okay?” A nod in agreement had pointed towards Nadine’s similar thought, “Especially not him.”

“And Will, there’s nothing wrong with liking the games at the arcade or playing Dungeons and Dragons.” Nadine had encouraged, “And hey. I’ll play it with you once I get home. I may not be as good as you or Mike, Lucas and Dustin though.” She could tell Will had appreciated her offer and could see him taking up the possible offer at some point.

Turning the conversation, Nadine had asked, “But you like The Clash? For real.”

“For real. Definitely.” Will’s confirmation had made Nadine smile, another thing that they’d all enjoy together as siblings. Raising the volume of the stereo, they all started listening and enjoying the music once again.

Removing themselves from the memory was the time, they finally arrived at Lonnie’s neighborhood. “You see his house anywhere?” Breaking the silence, Jonathan had asked as they glanced out of the car window in search of his home, “Not yet.”

Stopping on the side of the road, they made it to their father’s home. Nadine couldn’t help but feel a tad overwhelmed, she no longer had a somewhat good relationship with Lonnie anymore and was a bit nervous to see him, This is it. She had thought. With the two walking up to his front door, Jonathan had peeked into the front room as they could overhear music playing, echoing through the house. Sharing a gaze, Nadine had knocked.

They could hear footsteps walking towards them and a voice, “Yeah?” Opening the front door, the woman noticed the two, “Can I help you?”

“Uh, yeah. Is Lonnie around?” Nadine replied first, “Yeah, he’s out back. What do you guys want?”

“To look around.” Not caring about approval and just wanting to look for their little brother, the two stormed inside, “Hey, what do you guys think you’re doing? Hey!”

“We’ll be fast.”

“You take this side, I’ll take this one.” Nadine told Jonathan as they searched calling out, “Hey, Will? Will!”

“Will, you here? Will!” Banging on the door and searching every room in the hallway, Nadine was surprised when hearing a grunt. Jonathan was held against the wall with Lonnie near by. “Get off!”

“Damn, you’ve gotten stronger.” In a realization, Lonnie had observed not only that Jonathan wasn’t as easy to push around but also, that his little girl, Nadine was there. With perceiving him coming towards her, Nadine denied, “Don’t touch me.”

Wanting answers between all three, the woman asked, “Will someone please explain what the hell is going on?”

Lonnie had announced in introducing, “Jonathan, Nadine, Cynthia. Cynthia, this is Jonathan and Nadine. My two oldest.”

“Come here.” Her father tried in an attempt with a hug but she nor Jonathan were having it, “Get off us, man.”

Wondering around Lonnie’s new home, she took a look at all these he had in the living, the stereo, the photographs and the alcohol. Besides a huge amount of usuals within drugs, there were many times that Nadine also had drank alcohol especially with her friends, seeing most times as an alternative substitute when she ran out of drugs.

“Jonathan, Nadine, let me show you something.” Lonnie called out, the two were both a bit unsure with following him but did so, nonetheless. He showed them his new car, “Take a look at this beaut. Should’ve seen it when I got it. Took me a year, but it’s almost done.”

Once Lonnie caught a glimpse at Jonathan opening his trunk, he asked, “Really? Want to look up my ass, too?” Rolling her eyes, Nadine understood Jonathan’s reasoning to do so, “There’s no harm in looking, is there?”

“I told you both, the same thing as I told those cops, he’s not here and he never has been.”

“Then why didn’t you call Mom back?”

“I don’t know, I just… I assumed she just forgot where he was. You know, he was lost or something.” Scoffing as his excuse, “Bullshit! Mom would never forget where any of us where.”

Ignoring his daughter’s response, Lonnie told, “That boy never was very good at taking care of himself.”

“This isn’t some joke, alright?” Jonathan pointed out, “Yeah, I mean, there are search parties, reporters.”

“Hopper’s not still chief, is he?”

“Tell your mother, she’s gotta get you both out of that hellhole. Come out here to the city. People are more real here, you know? And then, I could see you both more.”

Neither of them believed any of Lonnie’s words, he didn’t give two shits about either, “What, you think I don’t want to see either of you?”

“We know you don’t.”

“See, that’s your mother talking right there. Does she even know both of you are here?” Their silence confirmed his suspicions, “Oh great. So one kid goes missing, the other two run wild? I believe that about Nadine, but not you, Jonathan. But that’s some real fine parenting right there.”

“You know what, fuck you! Since when do you suddenly care about us and about being a fine parent, anyway?” Nadine suggested as she mockingly chuckled to which Lonnie heard, “Look, all, I’m saying is, maybe I’m not the asshole, all right?”

“Here! In case you forgot what he looks like.” Nadine shoved a have you seen me poster of Will to Lonnie’s chest, “Let’s go, Dean.”

On the car ride back to Hawkins, Nadine numerous thoughts throughout it all. The blonde haired with hazel eyes girl had felt like her past and mistakes overall were coming back to haunt her. She hadn’t mentioned this to anyone but the past few days that Will had been missing, she had been dreaming of him.

“Nadine, Nadine!” The Byers girl felt a shake which snapped her out of her head’s mind. A confused glance on her face proved to Jonathan how engrossed she was in her thoughts, her own little world, “Huh?”

“We’re here.” She fluttered her eyes while raising her head as Jonathan pointed to the building of her workplace. Letting out a groan, remembering that her shift starts in just minutes from now.

Huffing in annoyance when the thought of her boss came up as she stared at the sign that read, Bradley’s Big Buy which was a supermarket in the small town of Hawkins. As much as she appreciated the money that she received from this particular job since it not only would help her mother and the rest of her family but support her addiction and supply her with drugs. However, she hated her coworkers, specifically the male ones since they were so grossly disgusting.

“Let me know if you need a ride home.”

Nodding at Jonathan’s words, she took her bag, turned around and walked inside as Jonathan drove off. The coworkers had acknowledged her presence, “Hey Nadine.” But the girl paid no mind as she wanted to finish her work shift and make it to Steve’s party in time. After working for an hour with stocking items, a coworker to which Nadine remembered his name was Thomas was standing in front of her holding a broom.

“Here.” Handing her the broom as she stopped, “You sweep the floor. This is a women’s job, anyway.” The tone in his voice let alone his sexist words left such a sour taste in Nadine’s mouth that resulted in a clear disgusted reaction, “You can do something else to clear your time. With me, doll.”

“I’ll pass.” Feeling defeated, Nadine accepted her fate. She didn’t even want to work today but she knew it was the best thing, her family needed the money let alone the fact that they were going through such a devastating time and it distracted her from the disappearance of Will.

Eventually with noticing the clock ticking and getting closer to the time of Steve’s party as well as the sun going down, she realized that her shift was coming to a close. Nadine headed to the back room as she prepared to grab her things before realizing that Thomas’s backpack was open as well as the fact that his wallet was there in an open area for anyone to take.

Well, just do it! Payback for what he did.

In his wallet was a two hundred dollars, she knew that it would help get her another supply of drugs. In no more hesitation, Nadine took the money and put it immediately in her bag as she turned around, said her goodbyes for the day and walked outside.

Outside was a pay phone near by to the store and with remembering Jonathan’s words, she called to no unfortunate avail with a huff, Nadine thought of another person to call. Steve.

Dialling the numbers and tapping her foot on the concrete, she hoped that he would answer and after a few rings, he did. Thank god.

“Hello?” An uncertain tone in his voice as he was unsure who was calling, “Hey, Steve.”

“Oh hey, Dean. What’s up?” Steve felt more comfortable in his response considering he knew who he was exactly talking to now. “Nothing much. Um, I was wondering, could you give me a ride?”

“Yeah, sure. Where are you?” The boy agreed with no second thought.

“I’m outside of Bradley’s Big Buy.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” He assured, “Sorry, my brother and I carpooled today and he has the car.” Nadine began, “He’s not answering and I don’t know where he is.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Steve was a very understanding and sweet friend when it came to Nadine as he would help her with whichever problem she had and would consistently come to her defense, everyone would typically tease him with nicknaming her as her knight in shining armour.

The two were always believed to be more than what they actually were and for the first time that year, the people might’ve actually been correct as Steve and Nadine had shared a kiss which ultimately led to questions, assumptions and eventually denial.

In realizing that their accidental romantic interaction was a pure mistake, Nadine had decided to ignore it and pretend it never happened which perhaps hurt Steve more than he led on considering their unexplained feelings for each other. He had chose that the best choice for himself was to move on which he had by engaging in a relationship with goody two shoes, Nancy Wheeler.

To say that Nadine wasn’t as equally disappointed with Steve’s decision would be a lie but the girl was able to hide her feelings more easily and in pretending that she wasn’t badly affected by his choice. She was hesitant of Nancy but still remained a supportive friend.

Nadine decided to make a quick stop to the local store nearby in order to distract herself as she waited for Steve. Strolling along through the lonely aisles, she grabbed herself a pack of cigarettes and a beer while also making a short conversation. Because, she was known to be a frequent customer and the guy who owned the store liked her, he had no issues with her purchasing substances despite the high chance risk it could cause.

By the time that she was done, Nadine had noticed Steve’s car in the street. Immediately thanking him for giving her a ride as they headed towards his to hangout along with their mutual friends, “Thanks, Steve. I owe you. I just.”

Nadine had tried to explain her train of thoughts but it felt too hard to explain, “My brother said he’d give me a ride once I called but nobody’s answering back home.”

“Don’t worry about it. Hey, how come I’ve never met your brother before?”

Trust me, Steve. You’ve met him, alright!

Her eyes had widen, the girl felt so trapped. What was she going to say? Yeah, it’s Jonathan, the guy you and Tommy constantly tease.

“Oh, um.” Nadine hoped that she could find a way out of this conversation and to come up with an excuse but eventually deciding upon a half truth. “We’re not that very close.” To be fair, it wasn’t a lie considering her and Jonathan were no longer that close like everyone refuses to accept especially their mother.

Before Steve could answer any more questions, Nadine was thankful to point out that they finally arrived at Steve’s home in which Nadine ran outside to greet her other friends. In the backyard, she could overhear rock music playing.

Grabbing a beer, she headed outside to Steve’s backyard to catch up with her friends despite it only being a few hours since school, “Hey, Nadine!”

In trying to rid herself of the guilt and shame that she felt towards herself because Nadine couldn’t help in blaming Will’s disappearance upon herself. She truly felt like if she had been there that night, nothing would have happened.

The sound of Carol shrieking as Tommy carried her above the pool, teasing her as if he was going to drop her in while he counted, “One! Two!” Had removed her from her thoughts, “Dean! I need some help here! Should I drop her in?”

Tommy had asked Nadine before he continued on to which she playfully smirked, jokingly saying, “Why not?”

“Nadine!”

“Three!” With a chuckle, Tommy carried on as Carol warned, “Stop it, Tommy, no! Don’t!”

Tommy laughed, “You’re such an asshole, Tommy.” Carol had mentioned as she pushed him. “And you.” Carol pointed towards Nadine, “You shouldn’t have told him!”

Nadine had raised her hands in an apologetic manner despite her and Tommy sharing a laugh in unison over the manner.

Seeing Steve opening a can of beer, she alluded to him, “I’m going to need more than one, Steve. I had the worst shift.”

“Yeah, coming up.” Steve went back inside, bringing more cans of beer out.

“Your boss giving you problems?” Carol had asked, initiating an all too familiar topic, “When is he not?”

“Why don’t you just quit?”

“I can’t.” Nadine struggled to find the words, “Even if I wanted to, it’s just not a good time. My family is going through a lot right now.” A statement to which only Nancy was well aware in what she meant.

Thankfully, Steve had brought Nadine her beer by this point. She watched him as he quickly drank his beer to the neck in which she noticed seemed to make Barb uncomfortable. Nancy, however was impressed.

“Harrington, let’s make a challenge.” Something that surely got Carol and Tommy all riled up, “Uh, I don’t know.”

Steve was uncertain, Nadine teased him, “Why? Pussy?” The girl’s words an attempt to get him interested as Steve shrugged, not caring about her words. Nadine was someone who could at times be very competitive when she wanted to be and this was her moment.

Nancy nor Barb didn’t notice the flirtatious behavior between the two but Tommy and Carol, whom were both good friends with the pair definitely did.

“Fine.” Guilted into the peer pressure of his friends, Tommy and Carol tracked them once the two each got a can of beer. “And I win!”

Steve exhaled as he came into second place, Nadine laughed as she sat down on the chair next to Steve’s, “Is that supposed to impress me?” Nancy had asked Steve as he sat down with his cigarette in his lips, “You’re not?”

“You are a cliché, you do realize that?” Nancy had remarked in a response. “You are a cliché.” Noting as Steve continued while lighting his cigarette, “What with your grades, and your band practice.”

With a laugh, “I’m so not in band.”

“Okay, party girl. Why don’t you just, uh, show us how it’s done, then?” Once Steve placed his lighter down, Nadine grabbed it to light her own cigarette as she mumbled, this is exactly what I needed to herself.

Steve handed the knife to Nancy as she agreed to prove upon him, “Okay.” Standing up, he had preceded to give her directions, “You gotta make a little hole right in.” Not giving him a chance to finish his sentence, Nancy cut him off, “I got it.”

“Yeah, she’s smart, you douche!” Tommy, who was cuddling Carol had said in defending Nancy as she cut a hole, Nadine was surprised that Nancy was at this party, let alone chugging a beer despite her relationship with Steve as she was always someone who was a “good girl.”

“Chug, chug, chug.” They all chanted, the friends all laughing and whooping in unison as Nancy threw the beer she just finished. Nancy just barely noticing her deserted friend had asked her, “Barb, you wanna try?”

“What? No.” The wary redhead denied, instantly. Nadine understood since she always saw Barb as very introverted, “No, I don’t want to. Thanks.”

“Come on.” Trying her best to convince her friend, Steve joined in, “Yeah. Come on. Yeah.”

“Nance, I don’t want to.”

“It’s fun! Just give it a.” Barbara cut her off, “Nance.” But despite how many times she’d deny, Nancy still tried, “Just… Just give it a shot.” Giving her a beer can, “Okay.”

Barb stood up, holding the knife and preparing to cut a hole, “So, you just…” Tommy had chuckled, “Gnarly.” In which Nadine mumbled, “Shut up.”

“Are you okay?” Nancy questioned as Barb had accidentally cut herself with the knife, “Do you need us to bandage that up?”

“Yeah.” Barb excused the cut, in what Nadine believed was a way to make it seem as not bad of an issue, “Barb, you’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh, it’s… it’s uh, down past the kitchen, to the left.”

Steve showing Barbara inside on where to go, “Okay, thanks.”

Nadine brought her cigarette to her lips as her friends chuckled, as if this wasn’t a big deal, “Oh.”

The smoke from her cigarette exhaling throughout her mouth, she recalled, “This is the good life.” The girl was at a high chance of being intoxicated but she didn’t want anyone knowing that.

Carol and Tommy chuckled at her words before Tommy randomly pushed Carol who was standing by the pool nearby in as she screamed.

“Oh my god! What the hell, Tommy?”

Nancy and Nadine both couldn’t help themselves in laughing as Carol continued to yell, “No!” Once Tommy jumped in.

Nancy shrieked as Steve pushed her in, “Whoo!”

“Dean, you’re next!” Nadine pleaded with Steve as she tried to convince him otherwise as he tried to trick her into thinking he wouldn’t but yet he did push her in, “Steve!”

Jumping in himself, Tommy laughed. Nadine laughed as Steve came near, pretending to give him a piggyback ride while in the pool.

Eventually, after some time in the pool, they all decided to leave the pool and head inside as Steve handed Nadine a towel as she shudders, “I’m freezing.” Carol noted, “Me too.”

“Hmm… well, I hear his mom’s room has a fireplace.” Tommy remembered as he walked upstairs, “Are you kidding?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Okay, well, you know, you are cleaning the sheets.” Steve had advised the two. “You both all right?”

“Yeah.” Her and Nancy said in unison. “Steve, you mind if I take a shower?”

Steve shook his head no to inform Nadine that he had no issues, “Come on, let’s get you some dry clothes. You can borrow some too, Dean.”

Mumbling a thanks, Nadine headed upstairs but despite no longer being around them, she could still overhear the conversation between Nancy and Barb. “Nance.”

“Barb. I’m fine.”

The words that struck her is when Barb told Nancy, “This isn’t you.” Those words were burned into her mind, she could remember the time when Jonathan said those words to her. He always believed that Steve was the time she became someone new, someone he didn’t recognize especially considering they were so close as children.

She let the water run over herself, Nadine had various things running through her mind, Will being the main one. The girl hoped this party would distract her from her troubles but she isn’t so sure and as of now as she stares in the mirror, she’s unsure if she recognizes the person that she is.

Changing into Steve’s hoodie and sweatpants, Nadine decides to leave earlier than usually. Not wanting to cause a scene or interrupt, Nadine heads out back to which she comes across Barb. A mysterious noise that sounded like the mixture of a growl and shriek echoes throughout the backyard to which Nadine wonders, “Where’s Barb?”

Maybe, she just went home.

[tracing-rivers]

for the "not from the us" asks

10. most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

11. favourite native writer/poet?

26. does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal?

27. favourite national celebrity?

Merci pour cette ask ^^

10. Most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

Nothing like a good "putain" ("fuck", literally "whore") to punctuate a sentence.

And "sa mère" ("their mom"), short for "sa mère la pute" ("their mom the whore") which stands for "whoopsies" in my mouth. (Many of our slurs are sex work based, that's why it's called SWearing).

That said, I've also trained myself to "zut et flûte" ("dang and flute") mechanically now. Sounds more professional at work.

11. Favorite native writer/poet?

Pierre Corneille. Read Le Cid, putain, I'll never say it enough.

26. Does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? What do you think about the portrayal?

Y'all have a thing about frogs uh.

And you need to understand that France is not entirely Paris (specifically the cute little cobblestone streets of Paris). And Emily in Paris is not accurate btw it's so fucking stupid (besides the McDonald's at Saint-Lazare station is so much "fancier" than the one on the Champs Elysées if that's where you put your standards, get your facts right).

(Also, history time, there's a lot of stray bullets towards France as a whole in American media. The thing is, those jibes are a fairly recent thing, cause we used to be your liberty buddies. We free you from the British, you free us from the Germans, tit for tat. But then George Bush Jr wanted to invade Quwait for oil and our gov was like "excüse moi you can't juste blatantly invade a country for resources that's our thing" and Bush was like "aw but I want to" but the French vetoed him so, much like a 13 yo going "you're not even my real father!!1!1" after his dad wouldn't let him get a tattoo of Bart Simpson's ass, Bush mediatized a whole anti French propaganda campain. I assure you that all of the jokes against the French that you've seen on TV in the past 25 years are the result of this campain. So yeah, I don't really care about criticism that comes from the same place as freedom fries. (Which are Belgian btw. Fries are Belgian.) Everyone else gets a pass though.)

27. Favorite national celebrity?

Well that's extremely broad. We've got a lot of those but I don't really have strong parasocial feelings about anyone.

Okay, uh Philippe Poutou, for comitting to the bit of telling it like it is and barely being a politician as a result.

And I want to snuggle in front of a fire with Pierre Niney but who wouldn't. And nail entire cast of The Three Musketeers (2023).

And Joueur du Grenier on Youtube, look him up, a lot of his videos come with subs. He's got the Nostalgia Critic style, and he's the last of the big French Youtube Pioneers to still do quality stuff.

[invisiblegarters]

Never Let Me Go Ep 10

Time for some angst on V-day! I am ready for it.

Oh. We're starting with Palm in the bath before Nueng left. Okay

then.

It's really sad that Palm is what? Eighteen? And he's sitting there berating himself for being unable to protect anyone. It feels like he wrapped so much of himself up in being able to take care of Nueng in particular that he doesn't know who he is outside of it.

Nueng is making sense here. Palm can't make protecting him his whole life. I don't actually blame him for taking off, to be honest. It's cliché but it also kind of feels like for the first time Nueng really is thinking about someone else first? He can be frustratingly selfish so this is actually a good thing in a way, although I'm not entirely sure just not being around Palm will keep him safe at this point. Kit has to know who he was with this whole time, and there's still the matter of all the dead people on the island. I expect he'll be back sooner than later.

Also, I'll admit I'm looking forward to watching Nueng face off with Kit. I do feel like he's got the sheer guts to do it, if maybe not the business acumen just yet.

Oooh, I do like that Nueng is pretending not to be onto Kit. Kit playing the concerned uncle cracks me up.

See, Kit should have endeared himself to Nueng from the very beginning and not been so blatantly after the business. If he had done that, maybe Nueng would have gone to him when everything went to hell in a handbasket and not immediately known that he could be the only one behind his mom's shooting. Ah, well. I don't think Kit would have been able to do that long term anyway.

Oh no, Tanya! I've missed her. But also I can't help but wonder how much an actor makes to just show up and pretend to be in a coma.

I am such a sucker for clothes sharing.

Look at Nueng learning how to be a real boy! Washing clothes and everything. They are ridiculously cute together when they're not busy being angsty little balls of angst, I will give them that.

Aw, okay. I will admit Nueng curling up on Palm's bed with his shirt got me.

Oooh, Nueng clearly means business now. He's got the leather jacket to prove it.

BE NICE TO CHOPPER, NUENG.

(I feel like he's not going to be nice to Chopper and it is going to annoy me)

Yeah, he is most definitely not going to be nice to Chopper. Dammit Nueng, he's a sweetheart, do not alienate him.

Okay, no. What is with everyone blaming Chopper for his dad? Okay, I know why. He's easier to get at. But he's so kind hearted that watching people go at him for not standing up to his father when none of them have either just bothers me. I admit that I'm biased though, and there's also the chance that if people keep pushing Chopper and telling him that he's just as evil as his old man by association that he might take the path of least resistance and decide screw it, I'll just be what everyone assumes.

I don't really believe that, but there's always the possibility.

Chopper is still my favorite. Be nice to my favorite, people (spoiler: no one is going to be nice to Chopper this episode).

Okay, Palm I think it's great that you trust Nueng but maybe do that when you're not on the back of a moving motorcycle.

Holy crap, is that a set of stairs in a Thai BL that can't kill you? What even is this?

Oh it's in the school. That makes sense, carry on.

Good for Ben for apologizing. It's a little too late, I suppose, since Nueng is way less vulnerable right now. I have to say that I like the way that Phuwin is playing him now. I don't think that the hard shell is all that thick, to be honest, but I like that he's visibly much harder than he used to be.

But I am glad that Ben is owning up to his own cowardice. I was feeling less than charitable towards him last week because I dislike anyone who hurts Chopper on principle (it’s not that complicated) but I admit I am kind of into how what he let happen with Nueng is sort of shaping everything he does now. He seems almost desperate to make up for it, which makes me wonder how long he’ll wait for Chopper to take care of Kit before he does something extremely dumb. 

I also like that he didn’t claim to still have feelings for Nueng, which was another worry of mine. 

Speaking of people hurting Chopper...we all knew that Chopper's dad was gonna go after Ben the second Chopper refused to toe the line. That poor kid. I worry about him more than I worry about just about anyone else. He’s more isolated right now than even Nueng. 

UGH CHANON. Why is your only thought about Palm wondering why he isn't taking care of Nueng? Can't you be a dad for five seconds, please? Like, a real one who's first priority isn't someone else's kid?

No, of course he can't. It is deeply ironic to me that Chanon basically sold himself to Nueng's family to save Palm's life, and now he expects Palm to lay that same life on the line for that family.

Palm's back! New that that the separation wasn't going to be for the whole episode. If Palm yells at him and really means it I will be so happy. Yell at him, Palm!

Nueng, do not offer to pay him off. My god.

Palm: I have a literal tattoo of your name on my body; we’re never breaking up.

Okay, the fact that Palm has been stalking Nueng this whole time and his bodyguards haven't even noticed is hilarious. Or maybe they were like "this kid seems fairly ineffectual, no threat here." Ha.

So Nueng's whole family just really sucks at hiring bodyguards. Where the hell were they while shady dude was just openly taking photos? Hire better people.

But also, I don't get the sinister music there. Of course Kit already knew about Palm, although I guess he might not have known just how close they were getting.

[eolewyn1010]

Dragging Frankenstein - Chapter 6

Victor's got mail, so let's forget all about that patchwork guy stumbling around!

Oh, so we can blame Elizabeth that Frankenstein sr. never came over to the university to slap some sense into his dumbass son. Greeeeaaat.

And how she gets whiny that someone else gets to take care of her sweetie Victor, as if he wasn’t basically her older brother. *sigh* EVERY WOMAN IS A MOM: 4

…this gets a double count because she talks about Victor’s siblings also as if she were their goddamn mother. EVERY WOMAN IS A MOM: 5

Plus, she always uses “we” and “our dear children”, as in, she as a parental figure together with what his her adoptive father and was already a pretty old partner to his actual wife. INCEST VIBES: 6

This family, I swear to God.

“My trifling occupations take up my time and amuse me, and I am rewarded for any exertions by seeing none but happy, kind faces around me.” …No, this sentence doesn’t drive up a particular count; it just legit makes me wanna slap Mary Shelley across the face. Woman, your mother fought for occupations that didn't have to be trifling, and for more meaningful rewards than other people's happy faces!

“Let me tell you about Justine who lived with us for years and whom you should therefore know well enough!” Another bit of this strange introducing-life-details-to-someone-who-should-already-know-them. Justine has been around for years even before Victor left???

But then, we quickly need to introduce her so she can die tragically.

“…through a strange perversity, her mother could not endure her.” I. I don’t know what to do with that sentence. Link it back to Justine being her father’s favorite, swallow down the bile, and set a count, maybe? INCEST VIBES: 7

“The republican institutions of our country have produced simpler and happier manners than those which prevail in the great monarchies that surround it.” – Huh. I’m genuinely interested in dissecting this alleged correlation.

“Justine, you may remember, was a great favorite of yours” – then WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU NEED TO REMIND HIM OF THAT???

“Justine was the most grateful little creature in the world” – y’know, it really undermines the importance of human dignity for everyone when Elizabeth makes such a point of how kind it was to let Justine partake in education etc. and how fucking grateful she is. Then it’s obviously not the self-evident course and you very much do make that distinction between “your equal” and “servant”, don’t you?

“her disposition was gay”, “restore her gaiety”, “I love her tenderly”, “she is extremely pretty” – aw, they were girlfriends. (Yes, I know that’s not what that word meant then. Let me have my fun.) DAS GAY: 16

“She was a Roman Catholic […] and her confessor confirmed the idea” – Elizabeth being a judgy Protestant, I guess.

Justine being sent back into an emotionally abusive household sucks. Poor girl.

And then the bit about William. I literally cannot even. “He has already had one or two little wives, but Louisa Biron is his favorite, a pretty little girl of five years of age.” WHAT. Yeah, yeah, play-dating among children, fine, except – William is eight, iirc. How many eight-year-old boys hang out with five-year-old girls?? What is the power dynamic there??

And why on earth is it necessary to apply this kind of vocabulary? “LITTLE WIVES”??? “HE HAS HAD [them]”??? “HIS FAVORITE”??? What the actual FUCK? What is this? Stop fucking sexualizing children hanging out with their playmates!

This paragraph made me hate William, seeing as it’s all Elizabeth tells us about his behavior / personality. Everything else is how nice he looks, fuck off.

And then it’s some city gossip and she’s finally done. Whew!

“In another fortnight I was able to leave my chamber”, “the sight of a chemical instrument would renew all the agony” – Victor is a real wimp. Kiss that career farewell, I guess.

Also, I’m amazed that his professors at university remember him enough that he gets to introduce Henry. Didn’t he, like, ghost them all two years ago?

I hate Victor’s attitude about his professors. Oh, how dare they torture him with talking about their subjects of expertise! IT’S ALL ABOUT ME: 6

And “M. Krempe was not equally docile”. Docile? That is your professor, you twat, not your servant!

Henry wanting to study Arabian, Persian and Sanskrit makes me love him a little more, ngl.

And… of course Victor is brilliant at those, too, and studies along with Henry even though that stuff doesn’t interest him. He’s just an all-around genius, I guess -.-

“How different from the manly and heroical poetry of Greece and Rome!” …Force him to read some Ovid and Aristides, see how he likes it.

“I felt this delay very bitterly, for I longed to see my native town and my beloved friends” – sure you do, buddy. How much time is passing!? Victor is just dawdling, I swear.

“I became the same happy creature who, a few years ago, loved and beloved by all, had no sorrow or care.” I SO PRIVILEGED: 6

But at least “Henry rejoiced in my gaiety.” *immature snicker* DAS GAY: 17

Time for the shit to hit the fan.

And after this long chapter with a whole lot of Nothing happening, the next one, where actions have finally consequences and conclusions are drawn, is really short. Pacing, Shelley!

[my-loves-my-life]

Ok so normally I try to keep this all in the tags but I have too many thoughts and I was basically live commenting in my notes app so uh here’s my usual yapping lol enjoy:

Omg love all the opening scenes and sannie and mc are adorable and oooooo yungi are our first guests tee hee

Omg I love that they’re still making sandcastles together even in college I’m sure they’re absolute pros now haha

HAHAHAHA “mingi looks over at your sandy ruins with an awful lot of audacity” I DIED

Omg I love the coordinating the pants with their outfit that’s so cute and the fact that the mom is in it is iconic

HAHAHA THE RICE FIELD “how’s mingi?” “He’s … trying” and the immediate “MY HARDEST” that’s so mingi lolol poor thing 😂

Omg the lil description of how yunho takes care of mingi I cri they’re my favorite duo and hajflglahhs they’re so sweet I lub them

HAHAHAHA THE SCENE WHERE YUNHO ATTACKS MC THE WHOLE “WAIT WAIT WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS PLS”

Omg we’re only like 3 summers into this story but it’s already so cute and wholesome and I love it so much

HAHAHAHA THE “hongjoongs the short one. We keep him as our mascot” the short jokes have begun we love to see it

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HONGJOONG IMMEDIATELY GOING FOR THE HAND HOLD AND YEOSANG GOING “bro stop sans gonna chop your hand off’’😂😂😂😂

HAHAHAHAHA THE THE “the sounds draw the attention of everyone else too, who have no idea why san is the target but are more than willing to join in”

THATS SO ATEEZ THEYD TARGET ANYONE FOR ANYTHING AT ANYTIME FR😂

Omg the “BLEED HONGJOONG DRY! BLEED HONGJOONG DRY” is also so ateez and is so funny 😂😂😂 I loved the “I CAN GET /THREE/ FLAVORS!” And then jonghos “we’ll get SIX!” AND YEOSANGS “WELL GET //NINE” I died

Also side note I love all the descriptions of the boys like obviously there’s the plot how does everyone know each other but also their personalities are just so them in real life like every time a new member was described I was like yeah that sounds about right for them😂😂

HAHAHAHA NOT THEM USING THE SHOPPING CARTS AS BUMPER CARS THOSE POOR WORKERS 😂😂😂😂

Oh my lord not all of them instantly getting jealous over handwritten notes from a male who isn’t them🙄 they’re acting like he’s asking for mcs hand in marriage or something lololol

Omg the flying kiss from woo that gets trampled by yunho and joong😂 they’re such babies

Oof the angst has arrived and I have a feeling our good friend the miscommunication trope is gonna come into play

Awwww the teaser sceneeee I love it they’re all so sweet and lovely and mcs gonna be in denial forever it seems 😂😂

BAHAAAA WOOYOUNG MAKING A POWERPOINT AS TO WHY HES THE BEST WHY WOULD HE THO

Ooof homegirls comparing her experiences with the other boys while on her date with notes boi?? DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT. YOU ARE IN LOVE

Oop “Johnny asks to make it official and you say yes because you love him” bestie I hate to say it but I believe you’re more in love with the traits he shares with your boys than who he actually is👀👀👀

OOOOOOOOOOOOO THINGS ARE GETTING ANGSTYYY “there’s a boy by your side that isn’t one of them and you’re holding hands”YIIIIKKKESS THE BOYS ARE UPSETTT

OOOOFFFFFFFFFFFFFF NOT THE “oh. It’s them.” Homeboy does not like our boys at alll

Yikes I do not like Johnny. Not the “she likes the chocolate ones” like are you sure about that one buddy?? Did you ever even ask her??

NUH UH NOT THE “what’s with him? does he want to get in your pants or something” YOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW

Oh no not the toxic boyfriend interrupting the confession oh god this can’t be good

Oh no mr man is running into the boys without mc this can’t end well (and it didn’t)

Oh my poor babies and MY POOR MINGIIII OWWWWW PAINNNN

ow not the “don’t count on it” oh my heart just shattered

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA HANEUL FOR THE WIN WE LOVE HER

AHFKALKUVUAHKGPAJD JONGHO BBY BEAR THE “thanks. I miss you (we miss you)” YAYYYY WE’RE GETTING THE BAND BACK TOGETHER

AND HERE IT IS EVERYBODY THE MOMENT WE ALL SAW COMING - “because you’re in love with all of them” WOW WHO COULD HAVE EVER SEEN THAT COMING HUH?? NOT MC APPARENTLY 😂😂

HAHA “you have to fight everything in you to not turn around and flee” ME TOOOO #scaredofconfrontationgang

Omg this apology is amazing we love it and I love the fact that like A) she’s able to say “hey I’m an idiot my bad” and they’ll listen and B) she can say “but also y’all said some stuff that also hurt”

And omg when she’s like “I was upset that you guys kept getting upset at me for not breaking up with my boyfriend even though you never told me why he sucked”

BECAUSE I JUST WENT THROUGH A SIMILAR SITUATION WITH MY FRIEND LAST YEAR BEFORE DUMPING MY EX those are such valid feelings

Oh my heart the scarf and the gloves and the whole even without saying anything the boys make sure you stay warm MY HEART IS MELTING I CRIEEEEEEE

OMG AND MINGIS THE ONE TO KNOCK MY SWEET BOY I LOVE HIM I HOPE HE GETS ALL THE HAPPINESS IN THE WORLD WITH WHAT THIS VERSION OF HIM HAS BEEN THROUGH

HAHAHAHA NOT THE PLATINUM HAIR ANS THE TANK TOP AND THE “it’s been ten seconds and you’re already down bad” ACCURATE

HAHAHHAHAHA AND THEN THE BUY ONE GET ONE FREE IM DYING OMG THATS SO REAL OF YOU LOREN

Ooooooofffffff hongjoongs not even there yiiikkessss what’s that supposed to mean 😬😬😬😬😬

Awwwww my sweet sannie “let me tuck you into bed”

HAHAHAHAHAH THE WAY I CANT TELL IF HONGJOONG AND MC MAKING FUN OF EACH OTHER AND CURSING AT EACH OTHER MEANS RHEYRE STILL FIGHTING OR IF THEYRE OK 😂😂 ANS SEONGHWAS “BRUH YOURE HERE TO APOLOGIZE” I DIED

aw yay things are good with joong again

OMG THE GLOVES AND SAN AND AAAAAAA

Lol and here’s the other tough conversation

HAHAHA WOOS “I’ve gathered you all here today for” HES SO UNSERIOUS OMG

HAHAHAHA IN TRUE ATEEZ FASHION “you confessed–” “–i thought we agreed to confess together–” “–trust you to cut in line! that’s not fair!”

AWWWWWW AND THEY ALL LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER

the essence of youth is summers with you

genre: poly!surfers!ateez x fem!reader, childhood best friend!san, sort of college!au, slice of life and coming of age, slow burn, fluff, angst

length: 38.7k

c/w: surfer!ateez (deserves a warning), explicit profanity, hella angst, mentions of alcohol, themes of sexuality and homophobia, arguments, implied toxicity (not the boys), miscommunication, kissing, m x m interactions

synopsis: when you move away from your hometown at the age of six, you discover that summer in namhae takes the form of a skinny, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands– choi san. but as the summers go past and he goes to seoul for college, bringing back new friends each year, you start to develop feelings that run deeper than just friendship. will your summers of youth become ones of love and dreams, or will they end in pain and heartbreak?

a/n: i owe the biggest thank you to yumi @sorryimananti-romantic for making this fic possible and for all the support she's given me in the last three months. this fic has quickly become one that i hold dearly in my heart because of how healing it has been to write, so i hope this is also healing to read ♡

it’s the first day of summer when you move to namhae.

the houses and trees flicker past and eventually peter out into vaster fields, mudflats and stretches of beach as your father drives through the countryside from yeosu to namhae. you idly wonder if summer in namhae will be like what it is back in your hometown.

it isn’t very comfortable wedged between your parents in the middle seat of the mini-truck, especially when some of the roads become unpaved as you arrive closer to the village. but you’re wearing your cute, yellow sundress with bumble bees across the front pocket, which is your big-girl dress, so you can deal with the bumpiness a little longer without complaining. the truck sounds like it’s going to give out as it groans and sputters to a stop in front of what will be your new home.

tentatively, you hop out and look around. it’s a quaint beach house that rests along a modest coastal embankment. when you walk closer to the edge of the port, you see that there’s a stretch of sand that leads to the ocean, and a little further down the coast is another beach house– your new neighbours.

the rattle of your truck must have alerted them to your arrival, because they come out with warm smiles and even warmer greetings. they exchange handshakes and hugs with your parents, then the attention falls to you. there’s a boy who peers out from behind his mother’s legs as she compliments your dress, his round eyes brimming with curiosity at the sight of a potential playmate other than his sister. you cling onto the side of your mother’s dress and the adults share a laugh.

the boy’s mother gently nudges him forward. “go on, sweetie. say hi.”

with another nod of encouragement, the boy shuffles closer to you with an impish grin. you realise he’s shorter than you are. “hi, i’m san. i’m six years old and i like the sea!”

the grip you have on your mother’s dress loosens a little as you mumble shyly in return, “i’m y/n. i’m six and i like the sea too.”

his smile grows impossibly wider, and his eyes and remaining reservations disappear at your words. reaching out, he grabs your hand in a physical declaration of friendship. your other hand falls away from your mother’s dress.

“we’re going to go play at the beach,” he announces, because you’re his friend now and friends play together.

on your first day of summer in namhae, you find that summer takes the form of a skinny, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands.

“sannie!” you skid across the wooden floorboards of his living room in your sock-clad feet, startling his father who is sitting on the couch with a newspaper.

he peers at you from above his glasses with the smile that stays consistently warm, be it from him or his son. he chuckles, “hello, sweetheart, here to play with san again?”

you bow slightly in greeting and nod before you whiz off once more in the direction of san’s room. summer vacation has only just started and you and san have already spent seven summers together, but there are crabs to chase and waves to splash and sandcastles to build so there’s not a day to be wasted.

“choi san!” you holler again, thundering up to his door. you’re about to yank it open when san opens it from the opposite side, excitement already plastered across his face as he starts to yell your name too.

the moment he appears, you hurtle into his chest for a hug that ends up knocking you both off-balance. he stumbles backwards with you in his arms and rebounds off the edge of his bed, sending you both sprawling onto the floor in a fit of laughter. you’ve become familiar with the way his bedroom floor feels from these exact moments, and you’ve also become familiar with the way san’s arms feel around you from being wrapped up in his tight cuddles. you may love the sea, but you love being with san just a little more.

“do you have your bucket?” you ask, still tangled together on the floor in a mess of limbs and untamed hair.

san props himself up on an elbow and reaches behind you to reveal a large, plastic bucket. it’s purple with a white handle and it matches yours; blue with a white handle and still lying on its side from when you dropped it in favour of hugging san.

you sweep up your bucket with a cheeky grin, “race you to the beach!” using san’s chest as leverage to stand up, then pushing him onto his back again by his shoulders for good measure, you take off for the door.

“that’s cheating!” he yells after you.

you sprint with glee back through the living room, barely managing to brake in time to avoid running headfirst into his mother. you greet and farewell her in a single breath before you’re off again, forgoing your sandals when you hear the thundering of san’s footsteps and a warbled bye mum! bye dad! catching up behind you.

the pavement is hot under the bare soles of your feet but soon enough you leap off the sidewalk, bucket clattering in your hand, and the ground turns cool and soft as you run across the sinking sand. san jumps after you with a battlecry of his own and you scream when you feel him right on your tail. he catches up as you near the waves and with a final burst of energy, he grabs your hand and tugs you along with him.

your grip on your bucket is lost once more when you yelp and focus on keeping up instead– san’s only got an inch on you now but why is he so much faster than you? the wet sand starts to grow colder, salty water splashing everywhere the further you sprint. neither of you slow down– not that you could with san dragging you along right into the thick of the crashing waves as he whoops.

you dread the day san will actually be tall enough to pick you up and toss you into the water, but for now, you give him the satisfaction of pretending. you wait for him to bend down a little, then you kick the water right into his face. he splutters indignantly and blinks the sting away until he can see the wide smirk on your face. his tongue pokes his cheek as he gives you a scandalised smile, before he cocks his head and sniggers, “your turn.”

you take that as your cue to run. san dips his bucket into the water, scooping it up full to the brim, then starts chasing you with faux anger that makes you shriek in delight. you yell breathless apologies over your shoulder in between giggles but they all fall upon deaf ears as he continues streaking after you, bucket held high like a madman with an axe.

you end up slowing down because it’s hard to run through water, and you’re met with the icy downpour of water over your head. san laughs triumphantly when you look at him with the ferocity of a soaked kitten. you eye his bucket and weigh up the odds of snatching it out of his hands versus dunking him headfirst underwater through sheer force. realistically, you have no chances of doing either. plus, san knows you too well.

“use your own bucket, you loser,” he banters as he hides his. and yet, he walks back to retrieve your bucket for you before it’s swept out by the waves.

“are you cold?” san asks whilst passing it to you.

there’s vigour and liveliness thrumming through your every vein. “no,” you answer, “‘m not cold.” never with you.

he nods, “let me know if you do get cold, okay? i’ll grab you a jacket or something.”

“my house is literally next to yours. i can get one if i need to,” you chuckle.

“i know, but it’s the principle of it. just shut up and let me have my chivalrous moment.” san sits with the characteristic huffiness of a teenager who thinks he’s all grown up now that he’s in high school. but it’s not very convincing when he immediately starts to shovel sand into his bucket with the enthusiasm of a puppy.

“okay, thank you, sannie. i’ll let you know if i so much as shiver,” you dotingly appease him.

he nods diligently, then pats the sand next to him for you to sit down too. you join him in filling up the buckets with sand so that you two can make your thirty second attempt to build a five-tiered sandcastle pyramid. so far, you’ve only ever gotten to the third layer before it starts to crumble apart.

“what’s wrong?” you ask when san stops packing the sand into his bucket.

you realise he’s distracted by something in the distance and you follow his line of sight to find a lone surfer riding a wave in the horizon. san watches as the man’s body becomes an extension of the ocean– a dancing duet with the rolling waves as he stands steadily on his board with powerful elegance. when the board glides towards the shore, the man spreads his arms like an eagle’s wings and lets himself fall backwards into the sway of the water.

san is suddenly filled with yearning to learn of the sea’s choreography. he declares, “i want to become a surfer.”

“what happened to becoming a dancer?” you raise an eyebrow. because if there’s one thing that san loves just as much as the sea, then it’s dancing.

“becoming a dancer is still my dream. i meant surfing as an interest,” he breathes out. “just look at him. he looks so…free.”

you can see it in the way san’s eyes follow the surfer’s movements and sparkle with wonder– the moment he falls utterly and hopelessly in love. “then try it,” you encourage, “what’s stopping you?”

san tears his gaze away from the ocean to look at you instead. the same, loving gaze stays on his face. “nothing,” he proclaims with a growing smile. “absolutely nothing.”

san has all the summers in the world to surf. and you’ll be there with him for every single one.

you watch as san fixes his surfboard to the top of his black jeep– the last of his luggage to be loaded.

“i don’t get why you’re taking that with you. there’s probably nowhere to even surf in seoul.” you know you sound like a snobby six-year-old and not the eighteen-year-old that you are, but you don’t really care right now. not when san is leaving and you won’t be able to attend college together like you thought you would be.

tugging on the straps once more to check that they’re secure, he chuckles, “doesn’t hurt to take it just in case.” when he sees the forlorn look on your face he adds, “i’ll be back every summer, yeah?”

“it won’t be the same. who am i going to hang out with every day?” you grumble.

san laughs endearingly, “it’s only until i graduate.”

“or you find a job or a girlfriend and then you’ll stay in seoul forever.” you cross your arms defiantly as san steps closer and reaches out to ruffle your hair. where you had stopped growing at fifteen, san is still growing and he now towers almost half a head over you.

“just four years–no job, no girlfriend–and then i’ll be back. i promise.” he opens his arms a little, “now, do i get my goodbye hug or do i need to tickle it out of you instead?”

you huff before uncrossing your arms and sinking into his warm embrace. he folds you into his chest as your arms wrap around his waist. closing your eyes, you memorise the feeling of his back muscles flexing under your hands while he gently rocks you side to side. you soak in his body heat that swaddles your entire being in safety and home. you breathe him in one last time when you bury your face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling the steady pulse that beats there.

“i’ll miss you,” you whisper, because you don’t trust your voice not to crack if you speak any louder.

san presses a soft kiss against your hairline and admits, “i’ll miss you more.”

you bite back the urge to respond with ‘then stay’, cherishing the moment for a little longer instead, before you step away so that he can say his goodbyes to his family. he hugs them one by one; his father, his sister, haneul, and lastly, his mother. she’s discreetly wiping at her tears and you have to look away so that you don’t start crying too. because if you start crying, everything will become blurry, and you can’t afford that when this is the last time you’ll see san until next summer.

you all gather around the driver’s window that’s rolled down to the very bottom when san is finally seated. seeing him buckle his seatbelt ready to leave overwhelms you with a sense of finality and your eyes well up before you can blink the hotness away. san stretches a hand out to thumb away your tears and makes a sad noise, “don’t cry, please? we can call whenever you want.”

you sniffle, “call me when you arrive?”

he nods with that dimpled smile you are already starting to miss. and then just like that, your best friend is gone. you stand outside his house for a stretch of time, even after the outline of his jeep has long since disappeared into the distance. it may be the last week of summer, but it feels like it’s the middle of winter today.

san’s eyes flick upwards to look in the rearview mirror, even though he hasn’t been able to see your reflection the last three times he’s looked. he had tried to appear as collected as he could to avoid making it any harder for you, but now he regrets not holding your hand a little longer; a little tighter. and if san tears up a little as he starts the four-hour drive up to seoul, then that’s between him, the car, and the playlist you made just for him.

you absentmindedly tug on a crease in your bed sheets as you laze on your bed, phone on speaker so you don’t have to hold it. “what was that?” you pull your device closer to your ear. “are you going somewhere?”

there it is again– the beeping sound of a car in reverse. the warning signal stops as san answers vaguely, “home.”

you jolt up into a sitting position, a growing sense of excitement making its way across your face as you dare to ask, “home?”

“yeah, home,” san confirms, and you can hear the smile in his voice this time. “i told you i’d see you soon, didn’t i?”

“i didn’t think you meant in five literal minutes,” you almost trip over your own feet in your hurry to slip some shoes on. “oh my god, is that why you said you couldn’t facetime me?”

you can hear his answer this time– not the scratchy voice that comes from your speaker, no– the smooth deepness of san’s voice close by. and there he is. after almost a year of freezing days, absent dimples and longing calls, choi san is finally back in namhae for the summer.

in quick succession, you notice three things. one, san has returned from seoul with triple the number of surfboards that he left with, strapped to the top of his black jeep. two, said man is now almost a whole head taller than you as he watches you with a smirk and disconnects your call. and three, he’s not alone.

if you think that san is tall, then the two guys that hop out of the jeep after him are even taller. one of them runs a veiny hand through his dark brown locks, which fall back down to softly frame his face. the other turns in your direction after closing his door and you realise you’ve seen him before– both of them, actually.

on top of your spontaneous calls with san, you facetime him every friday afternoon after your own classes have finished. he’s usually in one of the university’s dance studios because, as a dance major at kq university, the studio is basically his second home. san mentions his friends every now and then and they’ll appear behind him to say hello to you or you’ll be able to hear them in the background of the call.

quite frankly, the crusty quality of san’s front camera hardly does them justice because wow. they’re hot. and tall. they’re not letting you forget that fact when the three of them step away from the jeep and closer to where you and san’s family are waiting to welcome them.

san greets his parents with a hug before he gestures to his friends one by one, “yunho, mingi. the friends i was telling you about.”

yunho and mingi thank san’s parents for letting them stay the summer and apologise in advance for the inconvenience. but from the way they’re immediately told that their extended stay is more than welcome and that hopefully the drive down from seoul wasn’t too tiring, you know san’s parents have already adopted the two well-mannered boys as their own sons.

“hey, pipsqueak,” san sidles up to your side whilst his parents fuss over his friends.

you look at him, appalled by the sudden nickname, and even more so as you swat his hand away when he playfully ruffles your hair to tease, “looks like you’ve been busy doing everything but growing.”

“on second thoughts, maybe i don’t really miss you.”

san laughs, the tinkle of the sound like the crisp smell of the ocean during sunrise. he pulls you into him and that’s all it takes for you to melt in his embrace. despite your earlier quip, you’ve missed san terribly. it finally feels like namhae now that his familiar arms are around you again.

the rumble of san’s chest is soothing as he says, “well, i miss you. it’s good to be back home.”

you pull back a little to look up at him and god, he’s gotten so much taller. “it’s good to have you back home, choi san.”

the sound of approaching footsteps breaks your hug apart and you give the two boys a friendly smile as san roughly introduces your names, “but you all already know that, considering you guys basically see each other every week.”

“on top of the fact that san doesn’t shut up about you,” mingi jokes.

san punches him in the arm and mingi amends himself with a laugh, “namhae! he doesn’t shut up about namhae!”

yunho snorts, then offers you a small hug as he properly introduces himself. he leaves enough space between your bodies for the holy spirit to boogie when his arms encircle you, and you honestly find his courtesy extremely endearing.

“are you two also dance majors?” you ask.

“yeah, so we share some classes together,” yunho explains. “mingi and san are in the department of dance performance though, whereas i’m in choreo, so they have all their classes together and i only share the core ones with them.”

“good thing, too,” mingi joins the conversation and rests an arm around the other’s shoulder. “i’ve known him since high school and i was honestly starting to get a little sick of his face.”

he earns himself a jab to the side and he keels over with a dramatic groan. both san and yunho ignore him in favour of stepping back towards the jeep to unload their surfboards. you eye the boards with curiosity, recognising the white deck with the yellow and blue tail to be san’s. the design is simple, but san had used his own money to purchase it as his first transition board after the beginner-level mini malibu his parents had gifted him, so it’s his baby.

“are these all yours?” you question as san rests the tail of his board on the ground.

he shakes his head with a flustered laugh, “the guys brought theirs along too.”

mingi reaches for his board after yunho takes his and your jaw drops to the ground. “you all surf? wait, so you can surf in seoul?!”

“no, you were right. you can’t,” san chortles in embarrassment. “but there are a couple of indoor surfing places that we can go to.”

mingi hikes his surfboard against his hip, “doesn’t beat the real thing, though.”

“nope, which is exactly why we’re crashing. sorry, by the way–we probably should’ve asked you whether we could come,” yunho scratches the back of his neck.

you frown, “of course you can. it’s not like i’m the town head of namhae or anything.”

“but they know we spend our summers together,” san lightly bumps you with the side of his hip.

“oh,” you can feel heat creeping across your cheeks, so you force it away by jumping on the opportunity to tease, “you know what? mingi was right. you don’t shut up about me, do you.”

mingi hollers at the ammunition you have just given him for future use and even yunho slaps his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. it’s amusing to see san flustering so easily now that there’s a new dynamic of friendship between you and the other two boys, and san resorts to giving both of his friends’ asses a good-natured kick in the direction of the beach.

as they lumber off with their boards sniggering, san effortlessly hoists his own board up and sideways and beckons, “let’s go.”

“you know i can’t surf, san.”

he flicks your nose fondly with his free hand, “not to surf, silly. let’s go get our buckets.”

your eyes widen and you stand on your tiptoes with excitement, “buckets?”

“of course,” san waggles his eyebrows up and down with his dual dimples. “we’ve got some serious sandcastle-building to show off.”

half an hour later, all three surfboards are tossed to one side in the wet sand as you share the buckets for an intense showdown between the ‘namhae ninjas’ and the ‘highschool homies’. san had shot down your suggestion to alliterate your team name with the word ‘neighbours’, claiming it was an insult to the bestfriendshipness between you two, but hadn’t been able to come up with a much better alternative himself.

san holds his breath as you upturn another moulded bucket of sand onto the third tier of your sandcastle pyramid. with little surprise, the foundation starts to crumble and triggers a chain reaction that topples it all over. as always, some things just don’t change, even over time.

mingi laughs at your sandy ruins with an awful lot of audacity for someone who had watched yunho build most of their sandcastle, only to then add a little stick at the very top as a finishing touch. he grabs his phone from where he had left it on the safety of his discarded towel and holds up the front camera to take a photo of you all.

where there used to be two sandcastles between two friends, there are now two sandcastles between four. mingi snaps the photo, eternalising the moment. some things do change over time, and sometimes, change is just the beginning of a new chapter.

“which one do you think looks better?”

your mother takes a step back to scrutinise yunho’s pick. “this one,” she points, “the other colour palette clashes too much.”

san nods solemnly in agreement and mingi squints at his own choice from beside. with the seriousness of their expressions, one would think that they’re discussing investment properties. in reality, you’re watching your trio of friends and your mother earnestly matching and colour-coordinating the floral prints of your father’s flowy farming pants to their button-up shirts.

noticing the dubious frown on mingi’s face, your mother nonchalantly skims her fingertips over the pants he’s holding. “this is one of my favourites because it has little leaves on it,” she remarks, before dropping her voice to a whisper so that only mingi can hear her next words. “it matches your shirt. i think you’ll look the best in it.”

he immediately perks up and you can’t help but compare him to a sunflower that thrives the most under a loving hand. it’s incredibly cute and you can also tell that your mother feels the same, if not obvious from the way she has been giving him extra hugs and compliments all summer.

you rejoin the boys after you have all changed into your pants. it takes a lot of self control not to laugh when you see how seriously they are taking their get-up; rubber boots hiked up to their knees over their floral pants, and their straw hats secured snugly with the chin straps. even as disinterested as your father originally was when the trio had first arrived at the beginning of summer, he now lingers behind the sliding glass doors to watch you and san attempt to teach the tall boys how to plant rice seedlings in the paddy field.

yunho grabs a small, prepared bed of seedlings and turns to look at you cheekily. “want to be a rice friend and show me how to plant these?”

you level him with a stare that makes him chuckle and apologise, “sorry, i won’t say that a-grain.”

he looks awfully pleased with himself, so you turn on your heels in pretence to ditch him for mingi instead. you let out an involuntary yelp when yunho prevents your escape by quite literally manhandling you back next to him. he dares to up his charm by using his wide, sparkling eyes on you as he thrusts the seedlings into your hands, like a child waiting for you to open a bag of snacks– how could anybody say no?

you talk him through your demonstration, separating a small cluster of seedlings from the seedbed before transplanting it into the field. once he seems confident, you let him take over. it’s mesmerising to watch yunho’s hands as he deftly carries out each step– the way his long and slender fingers move with coordination and grace. despite it being his first time, he works skillfully like someone with years of experience. you’ve come to realise that yunho’s good at doing things that involve physicality, like dancing, surfing, and now farming.

“how did you start surfing?” you wonder.

yunho stills momentarily, before he separates another cluster of seedlings and runs his fingers through its green shoots. “i actually started surfing because mingi wanted to try,” his voice is fond. “it’s been four or five years now.”

“that’s really sweet of you.”

he ducks his head bashfully, then asks, “what about you? how come you don’t surf?”

“san roped me into his first few lessons, but i never got the hang of it so i stopped,” you reveal. “i prefer watching, anyway.”

“maybe you just didn’t have a good teacher. i could teach you one day?”

you don’t doubt that he would make a good teacher, but you would most definitely be a terrible student. the shirt and board shorts that leave very little to imagination when he’s soaked, and the water that drips from the ends of his hair down his jawline and neck are distracting enough as they are from a distance.

you chuckle, “you’re going to need a lot longer than just a few days to turn me into a surfer. you guys leave this weekend, don’t you?”

“that’s true,” he hums. “but there’s always next summer…if you’d like that?”

at his words, you suddenly don’t know where to look. the rosiness that starts to colour your cheeks makes a small part of you hope that there is an underlying hint of flirting in his question. before you can answer though, you’re interrupted by san peering over your shoulder to look at yunho’s progress. “of course you’re good at this too.”

you crane your neck to look around san, where you find mingi squatting and planting seedlings in the rows that are within arm’s reach.

“how’s he going?”

san glances back, “he’s, uh–well. he’s trying.”

“my hardest!” mingi yells across the field.

with a laugh, you stand up and slowly make your way towards him, leaving san and yunho to lay down the rules to see who can plant the most seedlings in the next half an hour. because apparently, everything needs to be a competition between them.

the seedlings that mingi has planted don’t look that bad, honestly. they’re a little lopsided, the spacing and height of each seedling a little inconsistent, but for his first time it really isn’t all too bad. you tell him such and squat down beside him. “here, let me show you.”

you gently remove one of the seedlings from the watery mud whilst talking, “they may just be plants, but they’re like people, too. if you treat them with love and care, you can see the same reflected in them.” you neaten the sides of the hole as you add, “you know, it’s kind of like how yunho loves and cares for you.”

having spent all summer with the pair, you notice all the times yunho subtly perks his head up to locate where the other boy is. all the times yunho brings him into conversation or back into the little huddle you’re all standing in. all the times yunho will wait for mingi to say what he wants or thinks before saying the same thing himself.

your fingers ease the seedling into the hole, then you fill it with soil and pat it down firmly to give the shoot the support it needs. “yunho told me he started surfing because you wanted to.”

at your words, mingi nods with a wistful smile; completely different from his characteristic cheerfulness. even the brightest of stars have moments where their twinkle dulls. “i was going through a rough time at home and i wanted something to distract myself…give myself a reason to get out of the house, even if just for a few hours,” he reveals. “sometimes, yunho and i skipped our morning classes and he would take me on long trips to the beach just so that we could surf.”

“i’m glad you had him to help you through that.”

“yeah, he’s helped me a lot,” mingi agrees. “he still does. sannie too.” as he talks, mingi attempts to plant another seedling the way you have shown him, and this time, it stands tall and proud amongst the other shoots beside the one you have planted.

“how are things at home now?” you ask.

he shrugs aloofly, an indirect answer that tells you everything you need to know. his gaze settles on the other half of your little summer quartet, who are now in heated debate over the winner of the planting competition. “both of them knew that i didn’t want to go back to my hometown over summer. that’s why san asked if we wanted to come here with him. thanks for letting us stay this summer, y/n. it’s meant a lot to me.”

your heart breaks a little at his words and you nudge him playfully, “stop treating me like i’m the head of namhae. there’ll always be a place here for the both of you.”

he lets out a laugh, a glimpse of his usual self. “we just know how much summers mean to you and san.”

“and meanings can always change for the better,” you counter with a smile.

mingi feels warm from the very inside. for a moment, only you and him exist in this bubble of comfort as you simply gaze at each other. and it doesn’t go unnoticed. yunho stretches his back with a satisfied exhale at san’s admittance of defeat before glancing at the two of you looking nice and cosy in the exact same corner of the paddy field you were working on half an hour ago.

“have you two just been sitting there this whole time?” yunho narrows his eyes as his words draw san’s attention.

“no?” you flimsily say, at the same time mingi confidently declares, “yes.”

the man beside you is back to his usual antics as he giddily fans the fire by gloating, “what are you going to do about it?”

yunho and san glance at each other and you start rising to your feet at the foreboding of danger. they nod.

that’s all the warning you get before they lunge in your direction. as dorky and harmless as the two of them look in their styled outfit of farming pants and straw hats, they are anything but that as yunho and san take frighteningly large steps through the rice paddy with their long legs. and just as your luck would have it, yunho is the one who is closest to you out of the two predators. you hardly think that it’s a fair chase between the tallest and the shortest.

“yun, we can talk this out like adults,” you try to distract him.

whilst you’re struggling for your life to pull your boots out of the squelching mud as fast as you can, yunho easily moves towards you with a devilish grin. you see his outstretched hands, covered in mud, and you decide right there and then that you’re not above begging.

“don’t come any closer! please, i’m sorry! i’m–” your pleads are cut off when he grabs you by the waist and hauls you over his shoulder.

for a brief second, you almost slip right over him face-first into the mud from the momentum and your life flashes before your eyes. but then yunho’s arms flex as he steadily grips your thighs and readjusts your weight, and you resign your fate to his shoulder and his pretty– but grubby– hands.

you twist your head to the side when a husky screech alerts you to victim number two and you find mingi at the mercy of san’s headlock. he rapidly taps the latter’s forearm, yelling mercy as you all burst out into laughter. very soon, the field turns into a playground of childish liveliness as all intentions of farming are tossed to the wind.

mingi was right in saying that summers mean a lot to you and san. but as you all chase and run away from one another around the muddy field, smearing loving handprints of dirt over each other’s faces and clothes, sounds of happiness loud enough that your parents can hear it from back inside the house, summer takes on a new meaning in the shape of you four.

in hindsight, it makes a lot of sense now why san’s parents had knocked on your door earlier this morning, entrusting you with the spare key to their house and waving goodbye as they drove away in their rented campervan. they had let you know that they would be going on a road trip along the coast this summer so that san and his friends could have the house to themselves.

you hadn’t thought much of it– just excitedly counted down the hours until the reunion of your little quartet. yunho had been texting you updates as he, san and mingi finally made the four-hour trip down to namhae now that they were on summer vacation. one of the last texts you had received had been a picture of mingi in the backseat, head lolling and mouth open in deep slumber, with the caption, ‘gonna need to wake sleeping beauty up soon XD we’ll be there in about twenty’.

this time, you had opted to wait for their arrival by sitting on the embankment outside your houses. your legs had dangled off the ledge as you looked out towards the beach, and at the telltale noise of their arrival, you had excitedly hopped up to your feet, only to be met with a sight that had your steps halting in fluster. and oh, this is why san’s parents had decided to yield the house. because this time, not only have the number of surfboards doubled, but so have the number of cars and boys that are suddenly in front of you.

as san turns off the ignition to his jeep, you’re dazedly swept up into a sandwich of hugs between yunho and mingi as they greet you eagerly. it’s good to see them again in the flesh instead of their measly five-inch-tall selves over facetime, and you’d be a little overwhelmed by their height on either side of you– having forgotten just how tall they really are– if your attention isn’t distracted by the opening doors of the banged-up ute behind san’s jeep.

either seoul has water that’s doped with something, or birds of a feather flock together, because each of the three boys that step out are equally as good-looking. you’d be lying if your heart didn’t skip a beat at the sight of them. you’re a simple girl with hormones weak for eye candy, after all.

yunho slings an arm around you and walks you a little closer as the new faces turn to look at you with friendly smiles. “this is y/n,” yunho introduces. “and these are our friends, jongho and yeosang.”

you notice that he skips over one of the boys, who starts to open his mouth in complaint, but then yunho continues on, “and this short one is hongjoong. we keep him as our mascot.”

hongjoong gives the taller his middle finger with practised ease and counters, “and we keep you as our tall circus freak.”

the way everyone snickers, yunho and hongjoong included, tells you that this is just about as average an interaction can be. after the boys properly greet themselves and pleasantries are exchanged with you, they decide to unload all their luggage so that they can rest for the afternoon. you walk over to the open boot of the black jeep, reaching for the last duffel and hoisting it into your hands.

before you can so much as take two steps, there’s a hand carefully taking the bag from yours. when you tilt your head up, it’s san’s kind eyes that are gazing back at you. “here, let me do it,” he casually tells you and then he walks towards the open doors of his house.

left with the outline of his back, you have a clear view of his shoulders flexing under his white shirt and you wonder when he started to fill out his clothes with muscle. you become conscious of the way you’re subtly ogling at your best friend, so you shake your head and walk over to the back of the ute instead where there are still a few bags left in the open bed.

there’s a small duffel that looks relatively light. as you drag it closer, you quickly realise it’s heavier than it looks. “what the hell is in this? weights?” you mutter to yourself.

there’s a giggle beside you, “sorry, that’s probably yeosang’s bag. he brings his supplements with him everywhere.”

it’s jongho this time, with his gummy smile and crescent eyes, who takes the bag handles out of your hands. he extends a brown paper bag out to you instead. “we can trade. this is much lighter.”

he easily picks up the bag of supplements and then reaches for a second bag to sling over his shoulder. for the amount of adorableness he exudes from his smile and laugh, the strength that he seems to have is on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. as he walks away, there’s the crunch of approaching footsteps and you see that it’s the short boy, hongjoong. he’s only short relative to his friends, because when he comes to stand beside you he’s still easily taller than you.

“maybe you could help me hold this, too.” he’s holding his closed fist out, making it impossible to discern what’s in his hands.

“what is it?” you ask as you open your hand, palm upturned for him to drop whatever he is holding into yours.

except he simply uncurls his fingers and intertwines them with yours, shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. a laugh erupts from your throat, only growing in volume when yeosang appears and interrupts by stepping between the two of you, forcing his friend to let go of your hand.

as yeosang grabs the last suitcase and closes the tailgate, he deadpans to the other, “san’s going to chop your hand off when he sees,” then he slings his free arm around hongjoong and ushers the both of you back into the house.

“it’s okay, i wouldn’t let san do that to you,” you reassure.

hongjoong smirks triumphantly at yeosang, only for you to wipe the expression off his face when you finish, “because that’d be animal abuse.”

“it’s been five minutes and you’ve already picked your side,” he laments dramatically, before nodding. “i see how you play. i like you.”

“it’s a shame i don’t,” you quip back immediately.

“fuck, did i just get rejected?”

yeosang shoves his friend through the doorway, “stop digging yourself a deeper hole.”

you all laugh as you shut the front door behind you to stop the cold of the air conditioner that san has turned on from escaping. you’re definitely starting to see the appeal hongjoong’s friends have in teasing him.

you take the bag of snacks still in your hand to the kitchen and you set it on the counter where san is drinking a glass of water. he’s watching the rest of the boys play ‘scissors, paper, rock’ over room allocations now that all their luggage has been piled up in the living room. he raises an arm and you easily slot yourself into his side and slide an arm around his waist. relaxing into the touch of his hand slowly rubbing up and down your arm, you also watch as the boys grow increasingly rowdy with each emerging winner.

you’ve had the fleeting thought before, but now that you’re seeing all the boys together, you realise just how attractive they all well and truly are. even san, you’re slowly starting to notice, does not lack in the face or body department.

“do you guys have a rule where you have to be attractive to be friends or something?” you ask, only half-jokingly. even though you had directed the question at san, it’s not him who answers you.

“aww, stop. you think we’re attractive?” of course hongjoong would be the one to overhear.

immediately, the feistiness in you appears. “yeah, and i’m wondering why they made an exception for you.”

he takes on the jest easily, “god, you’re obsessed with me.”

“you’re right, i’m a little crazy for dogs,” you shoot back, and you can feel the shake of san’s chuckles from next to you.

“good thing i’d bark for you, then.”

“what the fuck, guys?” mingi interrupts, “get a room.”

at that, san steps forward protectively and shoos his friends away, “hurry up and put your bags in the rooms so we can go surfing.”

yunho and yeosang take their bags towards the small guest room down the hall, whilst the remaining three head for san’s room. you turn to san incredulously, “you’re fitting four people in your room?”

he shakes his head, “of course not. i’m going to sleep in haneul’s room. she’s on a trip with her friends for most of the summer.”

“she can stay at mine when she comes back. until you guys have to go back to seoul,” you suggest.

“oh, that’s right. your parents are in yeosu now, aren’t they?”

you nod. you had told san a couple of weeks ago that your parents had moved back to your grandparent’s house for the meantime. they’re not sure how long they will be staying in your hometown for, but considering the deteriorating health of your grandparents and the fact that you are independent enough to take care of yourself, it’ll likely be for a while.

san doesn’t tell you, but that’s part of the reason why he has brought so many of his friends back this summer. he knows that you’re silently struggling to adjust– even if his parents take care of you like their own daughter– so he hopes that he and his friends can fill in some of the silence, even if just for the summer. he wishes it didn’t just have to be summer.

“do you need to change into something else before we go?” he asks you.

you look down at the t-shirt and shorts that you’re wearing. you don’t mind getting them wet, but you can’t say the same about your underclothes. “yeah, i’ll quickly go and change first.”

he nods and watches as you head towards the door to toe on your sandals. when you pull the door open, he gently calls after you, “it’s good to see you again, pipsqueak. i’ve missed you.”

you smile, “i’ve missed you more.”

even after the door closes behind you, san’s smile stays on his face. “i’ve missed you the most.”

no matter how many times you experience the thrill of getting tossed into the ocean, you still cannot fathom the fact that the once short, skinny boy who used to pretend to pick you up is now tall and strong enough to actually do it.

“you cheater!” you screech when you feel san’s arms snake around your waist from behind, lifting you up off your feet. “you said you’d give me a ten-second head start!”

his gleeful laugh rings in your ears as he ignores your flailing limbs and teases, “i did! your little legs are just too slow.”

you start to feel the coolness of waves splashing your ankles and toes the further san carries you out away from shore and your grip on his forearm tightens in anticipation. with a slight swing, he lets go of your waist and tosses you into the water. the next thing you know when you regain your balance and wipe the water from your face is the sound of san’s yelp as he disappears underwater. jongho grins from above, having leapt onto the older’s back, who in turn has crumpled under the unsuspecting weight.

san emerges with a hulk-like roar absolutely soaked to the bone, his black t-shirt clinging to his torso. the clear outlines of his chest and broad shoulders set off an unfamiliar skip in your heart yet again, and san lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe his face– revealing his abs in all of their wonder– does the complete opposite of calming you down.

you're fucked. there's no way you're attracted to san like that. in the form of petty revenge, said man brings his hands down to slap the surface of the water, splashing it right in your face and jongho’s and…yeah, that flutter of butterflies is gone.

san is caught right in the middle of the crossfire as you and jongho splash him, drowning his figure in torrential rain. the sounds of his choked laughter draw the attention of everyone else too, who have no idea why san is the target but are more than willing to join in. but with the plethora of water being splashed and the chaos of hands coming from every possible direction, the three of you end up drowning under the attacks.

hongjoong quickly loses motivation when his arms grow tired from doggy-paddling the water and yunho and yeosang’s attempts also slow down. they snicker at the aftermath– your trio absolutely drenched– and then rapidly skitter away before any of you decide to retaliate in vengeance.

at their cowardice, san bites the bait and goes hollering after them, leaving you with the youngest of your group of friends. jongho beckons towards the shore with his head and you’re momentarily distracted by his wet bangs falling over his forehead and eyebrows.

“up for more surfing?” he grins at you. and if there’s one thing you’ve learnt over the summer, it’s that you would kill for jongho if he asked you with his gummy smile.

jongho is a surprisingly good surfer. as the only one in the group who grew up in seoul with limited exposure to the beach, you can hardly tell that he’s a relative beginner in comparison to the rest of the boys unless you were a surfer yourself.

once they had become their close-knit group and they realised that most of them had a shared love for surfing, they had colloquially formed their own little surfer’s club, knighting jongho as their honorary member. he learnt to surf in indoor centres, during the occasional beach road trips they would make and through the experienced guidance of his friends.

of all six surfboards they had brought to namhae, jongho’s softboard is the one that is the most ideal for you to learn with. true to his words, yunho had attempted to teach you how to surf but on his own board– a shortboard great for experienced surfers to catch steep and aggressive waves, but terribly hard for a beginner to control. jongho had offered his board and so under his and yunho’s careful hands, you had spent your summer practising on the beach before slowly transitioning into the water.

which is where you find yourself now, on your stomach as you slowly paddle out. jongho stands close by and waist-deep in the shallow waters of the spot that he has led you to where the waves are few and calm. just a couple of metres away, yeosang idly straddles his longboard as he watches in support.

“you remember how to push through the waves?” jongho checks and you nod, gripping the rails of the surfboard and straightening your arms to lift your torso upwards.

“yeah, hang on,” he says, moving closer. jongho rests his hand gently on the small of your back to steady your body and you have to focus on what he’s telling you instead of the feeling of his warm hand. he taps the sides of the board a few inches in front of where your grip currently is.

“hold it here, otherwise your centre of gravity is too far back,” he explains as you shift your hands forward. “the board might end up tipping backwards when you go through the wave.”

you retry the movement with the new positioning and jongho nods in satisfaction, removing his hand and stepping back again.

“there’s a wave coming in we could try,” yeosang suggests.

the slight swell of a forming wave starts to appear in the horizon. it doesn’t increase much in size the closer it gets, but as it reaches its peak height, the top breaks and turns into a whitewater wave. yeosang is out a little further and so he demonstrates how to push through first, lifting his torso above the break as his surfboard cuts through the wave.

“okay, ready? hold steady, steady,” jongho encourages, helping you time the movement, “and push up!”

you follow his call and straighten your arms to lift your upper body out of the wave’s trajectory, guiding the nose of your surfboard through at the same time that jongho dives under the wave. although your face still gets splashed with some water and your board trembles slightly in your grasp, you make it through the wave without tipping over.

“i did it!” you yell, shakily sliding yourself further up your board so that you can straddle it.

“you did it!” the boys respond excitedly.

jongho jumps up and down beside your board, prompting yeosang to slide into the water to join your side. you laugh brightly at the sense of achievement and at the sight of the two boys bobbing around you in a merry-go-round of exuberance.

“just a little more practice and you’ll be taking on the monster swells in no time,” yeosang declares. you know he’s exaggerating, but it makes pride bloom in your chest regardless.

somebody calls out your names and you all turn to look. it’s san standing near the waters, gesturing behind him as he yells, “we’re going to walk to the mart to get some ice cream. do you guys want to come?”

“yes!” you shout back, “wait for me!”

ungraciously tumbling off your surfboard in a hurry so that you can pull it back to shore, the boys chuckle at your eagerness. jongho grabs his board from out of your grasp so that he can carry it instead and the boys all trail behind you as you bound past san towards the pile of your belongings on the sand. while you sift through the heap for your sandals, your other hand subconsciously peels your clinging shirt away from your body. you feel the presence of someone coming up behind you and assuming it’s san, you straighten your back with a phone in your hand.

“san, you left your ph–” you start, except it’s yeosang, who bends down to pick up his towel and drapes it around you. it’s warm from the hours it’s spent in the sun and you can’t help the pleasant shiver that runs through your body. yeosang tugs it snugly over your shoulders and then takes the phone from your hand.

“here,” he tosses it to its owner, who falls into step behind you.

san nods his head in thanks and rummages under a towel where your sandals have been hiding before placing your shoes by your feet. “the ground’s pretty hot,” he says as he offers you his forearm to steady yourself with, patiently waiting for you to do up the buckles around your ankle.

“wait, i forgot my wallet,” you tell him once jongho and yeosang rejoin you after putting their surfboards away.

“don’t worry about it,” san reassures, “hongjoong’s buying.”

your ears perk up and he laughs because he knows exactly what you’re thinking. “yes, y/n. bleed him dry and order whatever you want."

"even a double–no, even a triple scoop?" you exclaim scandalously.

san's eyes drip adoration, "yes, even a triple scoop."

you run ahead with a cheer, blabbering jongho’s ear off about how if you get three different flavours and he also gets three different flavours, then you guys get to share six flavours, before yeosang joins in with excited chatter about how you guys can make it nine flavours if he does the same. you catch up with the rest of your friends and somehow, like a devilish cult, you all start to chant, “bleed hongjoong dry! bleed hongjoong dry!”

the oldest jokes that he only offered to pay for yours, not everybody’s, so mingi starts to tell you what he wants so that you can order in his stead, setting off a chain reaction as everyone else places their orders through you. they surround you, happy jostles and raucous snickers as you disappear in the middle of the group.

from behind, as san watches you grow closer and closer with his friends each summer, he can’t help but feel like he’s going to burst from affection and pride. he knows it will be a while until your parents move back to namhae, as is the same for himself until he graduates. but between his group of six– which will hopefully become the full eight next summer– and the group chat that you all made within hours of meeting each other, san is confident that you’ll never feel alone.

“if only wooyoung was here, then we’d have someone to grill the meat properly,” yeosang muses as he watches jongho flip and examine the packaging of the beef. “he’s the best cook out of us.”

“trust him to be a good cook, too,” you comment.

when you had first met yeosang, jongho and hongjoong, they had told you that there were two other friends who weren’t able to make it to namhae with the rest of them this summer. one of them was wooyoung, who naturally became part of the group after attending the same dance club as yunho, mingi and san. wooyoung had then been paired up with jongho during an inter-department project between the department of film & multimedia and the department of drama, growing close to the younger and by extension, to hongjoong, a senior in jongho’s drama society.

their other friend was seonghwa, they had told you; the oldest in their group and also in the year above like hongjoong. however, seonghwa attends a completely different university along with yeosang, the both of them undertaking a degree in education at seoul national university. they share some senior classes together, as yeosang had transferred from a law degree and had some of the credit prerequisites to jump ahead. and since yeosang is a close family friend of wooyoung’s, the three of them gradually became well-acquainted with each other.

it’s a running joke that you don’t need to remember how everybody knows each other– you just need to know that wooyoung is the common factor between them all, the person who decided that all of his friends should be friends with each other. so not only is wooyoung a social butterfly, seemingly charming and witty with good looks– should the boys’ track record stay true– but apparently he’s a good cook too. some people really just have it all.

“what else do we need?” jongho asks, haphazardly placing a few packets of the meat into the shopping cart he’s pushing.

“mingi said it would be good to make smores at the end of the night,” you answer.

last summer, during the final week that mingi, yunho and san were in namhae, you had all decided to have a barbeque feast and then spend the rest of the night huddled around a small campfire on the shores of the beach. it had been one of your favourite memories, simply basking in the peaceful buzz of summer and slowing your lives down just for one night to do nothing. you had suggested turning it into a tradition, and now that the final week of this summer has arrived, you’re all at one of the few grocery stores in namhae to stock up on food, snacks and drinks for the night.

“let’s see if they have marshmallows, then,” jongho makes a move to walk away.

hongjoong suddenly interrupts the conversation, appearing with an empty trolley in front of him. “get in,” he tells you.

yeosang helpfully points out, “that sounds like something a man with a tinted white van would say,” at the same time you question, “are we even allowed to do that?”

he beams, “i like to think that until somebody tells us we’re not allowed to do something, we are allowed to do it.”

“i can think of fifteen different reasons right now why that’s terrible life advice.”

the man simply nudges your side with the end of his trolley and you half-heartedly frown, “i’m really hoping this seonghwa friend is more responsible than you are, seeing as he’s older.”

“i hate to break it to you, but seonghwa’s worse,” jongho grimaces. “maturity ages backwards in this group, unfortunately.”

at jongho’s words, you turn to look for yunho, hoping that as the next oldest down the line he can talk some sense into hongjoong. only you’re met with the sight of the overgrown man pushing his own shopping cart with a very cramped but happy mingi sitting inside.

you sense defeat when hongjoong nudges you once more. “i can’t believe i’m doing this,” you mutter to yourself as he holds it steady for you to climb into. after all, you think, what’s life without breaking a few rules?

except nothing prepares you for the absolute madness that unfolds the moment your bottom touches the cold, metal gridding of the trolley. hongjoong quite literally revs the handlebar with engine sound effects, before charging through the aisle at full speed in an apparent race against yunho and his passenger princess. you hold on to for dear life, thinking that this will be over once you reach the end of the aisle. but both racers show no signs of stopping, instead drifting with sharp cornering into the next aisle as you screech. half of you is terrified, but the other half of you is starting to seek the thrill.

“faster, joong! faster!” you goad when you can see san standing at the end of the frozen section, waving an imaginary chequered flag.

both carts rattle past him in a close match, and as opposed as you were to the idea at first, you argue passionately against the honorary referee and the rival team over who won first place. even jongho and yeosang pick a side and claim that their eyes– from three aisles over– are as trustworthy as VAR playback.

it’s no surprise when the ruckus you’re all making gets a store manager sent your way. but by some saving grace, most likely the begrudging understanding that everyone has done this exact thing at one point or another growing up, the store does not kick you out. they let you finish shopping for the supplies you need, but not without the glares of the retail workers following you and your friends regardless of which aisle you try to duck and disappear behind.

with hushed giggles and not-so-subtle elbows in each other’s sides, your group hurriedly pays and places the multitude of plastic bags back into the trolley. san and jongho take one of the trolleys each and you all walk back to the cars to load the shopping. you would think that a scolding would deter any further misbehaviour, but when you all see the relatively empty parking lot, there��s only shared smiles of deviousness and glints of mischief.

if anyone were to look at the parking lot outside the grocery store that tuesday morning, they would see a group of seven friends, clad in an eyesore disarray of sweatpants, shorts, pajama tops and slippers, pushing each other around in shopping carts like bumper cars with shrieks of joy, circling around the dusty jeep and banged-up ute that has become an enabler of their connection and happiness.

you may all be doing the very things that your older selves will look back on with exasperated smiles and disapproving head shakes in ten years. but in the moment, you are unafraid; uncaring of what others think, because you have your friends by your side. and this, you think to yourself, is the essence of youth and summer.

you wish you were older. because being older means that you’ll have graduated, and being graduated means that you won’t have to fucking study for your fucking exams. you let out a groan and drop your head onto the table, making an audible thump when your forehead misses the thick textbooks and scattered notes, and hits the solid surface instead.

“hey, you need those brain cells,” someone gently chides. haneul stands at the doorway to your bedroom, watching your misery with a fond smile.

“can’t lose what i don’t have,” you mumble back.

“take a break,” she suggests. “do you want me to get you something from the bakery?”

haneul laughs when your head immediately turns to look at her, your left cheek pressed against the table by the cheeky smile that adorns your face. she chuckles again, “got it. i’ll be back.”

you absent-mindedly listen as the lock of your front door clicks shut and then let out a deep sigh at the silence that follows. it’s been a few hours since you first sat down and started studying but it feels like you’ve been reading the same sentence over and over again with no progress. pressing your forehead into the table again, you groan in frustration.

your ringtone goes off and your hand blindly fumbles around for your phone, sliding what you’re relatively sure is the answer button. “yeah?” you say into the receiver.

“someone’s a little grumpy today,” a teasing voice sounds.

“hwa?” you sit up instantly, looking at your phone properly.

it is him, not only blessing you with the deep richness of his voice but also the visual of him in a black tank top as he looks amusedly at the facetime you have answered. “are you still studying?” he asks.

you deflate a little, reminded of why you’ve been creating a crater in your table with your head for the past ten minutes. “mhm,” you hum affirmatively. “except nothing’s going into my brain anymore.”

“sounds like you need a break.”

“that’s exactly what haneul said,” you grumble, although you’re not entirely sure why you’re so opposed to their suggestions to stop studying.

“because we’re right,” he quirks his eyebrow. “what’s haneul doing at yours, anyway?”

“taking advantage of my netflix while i slave away to pass my exams. but she’s forgiven since she’s buying me snacks.”

“then take a break until she gets back and you finish eating. it’ll only be an hour, tops,” seonghwa convinces. “i’ll even set an alarm to let us know when time is up and i’ll keep you company when you study.”

you sag a little into your chair, shoulders relieving of their tension as you concede, which makes him smile sympathetically, “just a few more weeks to go until summer and then you’ll be free.”

“are you taking up summer school again?” you ask.

after san had added you and all the boys into a combined group chat, you had made friends with the two that you didn’t get to meet. you discovered seonghwa hadn’t been able to make the trip to namhae last year because he had chosen to take summer school instead. he had wanted to complete some of his degree requirements earlier in hopes of working part-time during his final year to gain practical experience. wooyoung, on the other hand, had had a portfolio due for his film class that required the majority of his summer if he wanted to complete it in time.

seonghwa grimaces at the memory, “no, not this time. it was a mistake, honestly. i burnt out so fast the first semester back that i didn’t even end up applying for any jobs.” he points a stern finger at you and warns, “don’t ever think about doing summer school.”

“trust me,” you laugh, “i have no intentions of ever doing that.”

you appreciate his advice regardless, because as immature as the other boys had made him out to be, seonghwa really does look out for all of you as the oldest of the group. and more often than not, you find yourself gravitating towards him when you need comfort or reassurance. “does that mean i’ll finally get to meet you?”

seonghwa nods, “woo as well.”

the screen of your phone suddenly splits to make room for an additional video as somebody joins the call. you hear his voice before his video even buffers. speak of the devil.

“oi! why are you all calling without me?” wooyoung complains.

contrary to the roll of your eyes, a smile makes its way across your face as you respond, “we’re literally calling from the group chat. no one’s leaving you out of anything.”

and as if his appearance is some sort of talisman, more of the boys start to join the call one by one. even hongjoong’s profile picture appears, camera off and on mute, wanting to feel included even if he’s in the middle of class. yunho and mingi pop up from behind wooyoung, so you’re guessing they’re busy practising in the studio. you wonder where san is.

someone asks you a question about how your exams are going, but you’re momentarily distracted by the buzzing notification of a text. “hang on,” you mumble, “let me just…reply to this.”

it’s one of your classmates, johnny, asking whether you’re home right now. you had accidentally slept through one of the review lectures earlier in the week and he had offered to give you a copy of his notes. from his text message, it appears he’s close by and able to drop them off now. you reply an affirmative and then click back into the video call, asking, “sorry, what were you saying?”

the drone of shared chatter about exams and the upcoming break fills the silence of your bedroom, like the fluttering breeze of a pleasant spring day. if they were not already so closely correlated to the warm, golden rays and salty spray of the summer ocean, your friends would be spring– the season of fresh air, blooming flowers and thriving vitality.

“someone looks happier. who are you talking to?” haneul emerges in your bedroom having come back from the bakery, holding a pastry box.

you didn’t even realise you were subconsciously smiling. “i’m facetiming the boys.”

she smirks, eyes glinting with mischief as she waggles her eyebrows suggestively and drags out her words, “i see. so who is it that you like? or is it all of them?”

“quit it!” you pretend to shove her. “want to say hi?” you turn the screen of your phone in her direction and there’s a chorus of obedient hi haneul’s as you turn up the volume.

she waves and peers at wooyoung’s video. “where’s the baby brat?”

from somewhere within the call, san yells out indignantly, “stop calling me that!” there’s a slight rustle as he walks closer to take the phone out of wooyoung’s grasp and when you peer to have a look, you can see that he’s sweaty and red-faced from finishing up a routine.

“you still respond to it, so,” haneul shrugs.

she disregards her brother’s continued complaints to drop the box onto your table along with a neatly-stapled stack of handwritten notes. “i bumped into johnny outside and he said this was for you,” she explains as you take it gratefully.

at the mention of a boy’s name, wooyoung shoves his nose towards his front camera. he rapidly asks, “who’s johnny? is he haneul’s boyfriend or what? why’s he giving you something?”

even hongjoong flicks a message into the group chat to ask, ‘who tf is jonny’.

you hold up the paper to show the boys and laugh, “he’s my classmate, guys. and he gave me notes because i missed the lecture.”

wooyoung frowns at your answer, clearly dissatisfied as he complains, “why is he giving you notes. and–what the fuck? did he hand write them? what a pretentious prick.”

you ignore him in favour of opening the pastry box to see what else haneul brought back for you. “how did you know i love these?” you exclaim.

she gives you that same, mischievous look from earlier and as she starts to exit your bedroom to leave you to your call and sweet treat, she vaguely answers, “how do you think?”

from over your phone, the others start to ask what you’ve got in the box, allowing a certain boy to easily slip unnoticed into the background. but it doesn’t take a detective to work out how– or perhaps you should say, who– told haneul about your recent cravings.

because if there’s one person who knows you the best, one person who takes notice of even the littlest of things, then it would be him.

hongjoong lightly slaps your thigh in retaliation as your laughter jostles his head that’s resting on your stomach, which only serves to make you laugh even harder. he lifts his head to grumble, “stop encouraging him, y/n. he’s going to think he’s actually funny or something.”

with a shaky exhale, you wipe a stray tear away, because you don’t think you’ve ever laughed this hard in your entire life. now that you see their whole group dynamic in action with the complete eight of them, it’s like watching a live sitcom.

wooyoung looks at him with a smug expression…then proceeds to yank the older’s sock right off his foot before throwing it into oblivion. hongjoong jolts up and dives for him and they immediately tussle about on the floor of san’s living room. amidst all of the commotion, san sneakily goes for seonghwa’s socks and you’re glad that you had peeled yours off the moment you had walked through the front door because suddenly everyone’s socks are a target.

the successful harvests that are tossed away are immediately snatched up by mingi, who hurls them under the table, behind the couch and on top of the television. you think you can see one dangling off the lights too, but you’re not about to snitch. jongho joins the corner you have taken refuge in and yeosang follows soon after, content to stay far away from the havoc that has quickly turned into wrestling. unfortunately, wooyoung is unable to let the three of you watch the world burn peacefully. he yells at the boys, who choose this to be the time to actually listen to him for once, and you’re all left scrabbling in different directions when they dive for you three.

it’s only the first day of summer and the second hour of officially meeting the boys as their full group of eight, but you can already tell that the next few months are going to be filled with absolute chaos and mayhem. and so the summer that marks san’s third visit back to namhae passes by quickly as you and the eight boys fall into an easy routine. hours turn into days, days turn into weeks, and weeks turn into months. summer revolves around each other and there is never a moment spent apart.

you join the boys at dawn every day, clad in only a pair of shorts, a tank top and a light cardigan to shoulder because there’s still a slight nip of the early morning before the sun appears. you watch contentedly as they dance with the ocean on their surfboards– a duet of paddling out into the deeper waters and catching the breaks of the swells back towards shore.

the more you watch them surf, the more you start to realise just how much san has improved. you still recall the day san had fallen in love with the way the surfer used his own body and surfboard as an extension of the ocean, and you still have early memories of san’s lanky limbs flailing as he lost his balance over and over again, trying to replicate the same gracefulness. now, san is not just a dancer– he is the choreographer; the one who controls the ocean under his board.

as the early morning wears on, the serene crash of waves and intermittent squawk of the soaring seagulls are gradually interspersed with the boys’ rings of joy as they become more interested in pushing each other off their boards and splashing each other, rather than surfing itself. the strongest trio easily overpower everyone else and you shake your head fondly when the others don’t learn their lesson regardless of how many times they are suplexed underwater.

when the sun starts to wake up, they join you on the sandy shores, surfboards placed in a rough row so that you can all share them like seats. you lean against whoever is sitting beside you and watch the sunrise until your stomachs start to growl for attention.

greasy takeaway is always the foolproof solution. you share hearty burgers that are too tall to bite into and salty fries that are slathered in dipping sauce, sprawled out on the cool floorboards at san’s or yours, soaking in the refreshing coldness of the air conditioner on high without a care in the world for the electricity bill that is racking up.

afternoons are for the second round of the meal; bingsoo from the cafe, pastries from the nearby bakery or cheap ice cream from the mart. and after all the food, the best way to digest before you go out again at dusk to catch some of the waves is to take a nap.

the giant puppy pile of tangled limbs and human pillows is arguably your favourite part of the day. even if the ends of jongho’s hair tickles your nose and your arm goes a little numb from the way san hugs it and your neck feels cramped from resting on seonghwa’s shoulder, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

sometimes, when you’re all feeling rejuvenated, you’ll clamber into their three cars or happily pack yourselves into two and drive down the coast to one of the other beaches. the drive there is music blasting and scratchy singing at the top of your lungs with the windows rolled down, your flyaway hairs caressing the cheeks of the boys beside you. it’s rest stops to fill up on drinks and dessert– any excuse for more ice cream and a chance to make hongjoong’s wallet cry.

the trip back, on the other hand, is quiet, the designated drivers pressing softly on the pedals and turning with care so as not to jostle the sleeping passengers. you’re all exhausted and passed out against one another, faces pressed against a shoulder or the crown of someone’s head. slow music plays lowly in the background as the streetlights start to turn on like a warm greeting to welcome your group home.

and just as yeosang had once said, wooyoung is a good cook. dinner time becomes a bonding activity– as if every second of summer isn’t already a bonding moment– where you all experiment with different and increasingly complicated recipes. it usually ends up with him and seonghwa actually doing the cooking whilst everyone else eats the ingredients and tries not to accidentally stab someone with the knives, and dinner doesn’t usually actually become dinner until eight or nine o’clock.

but it doesn’t really matter when, half the time, the post-meal conversations turn into a slumber party after time slips away. if you retire early, you’ll sometimes be joined by haneul in your bedroom, who has stayed in namhae this summer. she’ll spill her workplace tea and you’ll gossip about your college peers late until the stars have long started to twinkle in the sky.

there are no scheduled bedtimes, no proper mealtimes, no time limits to complete things nor niggling guilt not to complete things– there is no formal routine. but when spontaneity and carefreeness become the everyday occurrence, that becomes the routine.

and as with any sort of routine comes the familiarity. familiarity finds itself in the way san sing-songs wake up, sleepyhead whenever you accidentally sleep in, and instead of shying under the covers at the sight of him in your bedroom, you whine for five more minutes. familiarity finds itself in the way yunho’s hands hover around the small of your back whenever you’re all walking to the mart for snacks and in the way wooyoung immediately reaches for the flavours he knows you like.

familiarity finds itself in the way you and hongjoong will bare puppy teeth at each other one moment then naturally use the other as a human pillow the next. it’s in the way jongho hides you when san tries to throw you into the water; the way mingi tucks your head into his shoulder when he spins you around in a hug; when seonghwa reminds you to reapply sunscreen whilst dotting the lotion along your cheeks and when yeosang quietly drapes you in his jackets after you get out of the water.

but the thing with familiarity, though, is that it’s easy for it to overshadow other things. rather than realising that there is a shift in dynamic or a change in heart, other growing feelings can be mistaken for familiarity instead. and you don’t understand this until you least expect it.

your hands fumble to catch the bottle of sunscreen that yunho has thrown in your direction before it ends up landing on yeosang’s face. he’s taking a nap on the towel next to you, disputing against everyone else’s remarks that he should take the opportunity to surf considering you’ve all made the two-hour trip to dadaepo beach.

you adjust the small umbrella that he brought along so that it covers his upper body, then uncap the bottle and lather the sunscreen over your arms and legs. it’s when you get to your back that you realise you won’t be able to reach all of your skin. san or seonghwa are usually around to help if you decide to forgo a cropped shirt over your bikini top, but they’re already running far along the shore and you can’t be troubled to yell out for one of them.

you’re starting to wonder whether you can get away with not applying sunscreen on your back if you just make sure you lie on it the whole time when hongjoong spots your plight in the form of a blank stare and squeezed lotion in the palm of your hand.

“your short arms can’t reach your back, can they?”

you imitate his laughter with an exaggerated tone, “who was it that needed my help yesterday putting sunscreen on his back?”

“maybe i just didn’t want you to feel too bad about yourself,” he shrugs and walks over to swipe the glob of sunscreen out of your hands. you roll your eyes, knowing fully well he’s incapable of taking care of you without pretending to cover it up with an insult.

“stop squirming,” he chides. the contrasting cold of the lotion and warmth of his hand sends a shiver down your spine and you try not to dwell on his gentle rubs for too long. he’s meticulous in making sure he doesn’t miss a spot, but he’s also careful and deliberate with his touch around the knotted strings of your top so that you don’t feel uncomfortable. hongjoong and the word ‘uncomfortable’ could never be in the same sentence though. but he doesn’t need to know that.

“there,” he pats your back twice like a mechanic would with the hood of a fucking car to signal that he’s finished his job and then callously walks away.

you decide to let him off the hook and settle down on your stomach to rest your eyes for a bit. yeosang knows what he’s doing, because the combined warmth of the sand beneath your towel and from the overhead rays makes you drowsy almost immediately.

you’re flicking your salt-crusted hair out of your face when a voice interrupts, “hi, i’m sorry to bother you.”

lifting your head up to look, you’re met with the sight of a girl around your age, timidly fiddling with the popsocket on her phone. you sit up and give her a polite smile, “that’s okay. can i help you?”

“um, i was just hoping to ask if he has a girlfriend?”

the boys are all scattered along the length of the beach, save for yeosang next to you, so you’re not entirely sure who the girl is referring to until you follow her finger. she’s pointing in the direction of hongjoong, who’s joined some of the others along the shore.

“the short one?” you clarify, smile fading a little as you shrug, “i’m not too sure, sorry.”

the girl shakes her head, “oh, no. i meant the boy on his left.”

choi san. you now fight to keep the smile on your face friendly when you reply, “not that i know of.”

the girl thanks you excitedly, walking off back to her group of friends who immediately huddle around her to hear your answer. you look away.

you don’t realise you’re staring at san until he turns in the distance and makes eye contact with you. his entire face lights up, eyes disappearing and shadowed dimples revealing themselves under the gleaming sun. wooyoung takes the opportunity whilst san is distracted to swing a handful of limp seaweed straight into san’s face and a laugh escapes you before you can hold it in. your best friend looks more betrayed by your laughter than by wooyoung’s antics.

the younger turns to look at you with pride and when he sees that you’re laughing, he blows you an exaggerated kiss and sends it flying in your direction with a teasing flurry of his hand. yunho charges in from out of absolutely nowhere and pretends to tackle the kiss mid-air, throwing the imaginary show of affection into the sand where hongjoong immediately joins in and stomps on it with his foot, before sending you a flying kiss of his own instead.

chaos ensues and both hongjoong and yunho run for their lives as wooyoung chases them with his deadly seaweed whip. he quickly realises that the taller of the two will be impossible to catch, so he locks in on the easier target and hongjoong screeches in fear.

you can’t help but shake your head adoringly as you continue to watch, eyes landing on san once more when the cat and mouse go tearing past him in a whirlwind of sand. san holds your gaze with a fond smile of his own and you have to remind yourself that it’s normal for the boys to have suitors.

you’re not dating san. you’re not dating hongjoong. you’re not dating any of the boys, and they’re certainly not yours. so then, why does it feel like they are? but most of all, why does your heart feel equally bitter at the thought of someone asking about any of the boys…not just your best friend?

the sight of the tube of aloe vera gel in the fridge– likely placed there by seonghwa– is a welcome sight. you had diligently reapplied sunscreen to your body with the boys’ constant reminders to reapply but you had carelessly forgotten about your face. you’re paying the price of your mistake now and the red skin across the apples of your cheeks and forehead is tight with a constant, dull throb.

grabbing the tube, you walk into the bathroom where hongjoong is currently blow-drying his hair, having callen dibs on the shower after the beach trip.

“hey, lil’ tomato,” he jests before he gets a good look at your face. “woah, that looks worse than it was an hour ago.”

you hum as you peer closer into the mirror, “this is probably the worst sunburn i’ve ever gotten before.”

hongjoong ruffles the back of his hair one last time under the dryer before unplugging it and setting it on the rack. he slips the tube of ointment out of your hands and then turns you by the shoulders to face him. that’s how you find yourself between hongjoong’s front and the porcelain sink, the edge of the countertop digging slightly into your lower back as you watch him squeeze a generous amount of aloe vera onto the tip of his finger.

he murmurs, “hold still.” with a light touch, he tilts your chin up so that he can see the angry skin of your face. the stark contrast between the characteristic roughness of his edges and the tenderness with which he applies the soothing gel on your face right now has you itching to tease him.

“admit it. you like taking care of me, don’t you.”

he rolls his eyes, “and you like being taken care of, don’t you. like when you needed your notes handwritten by johnny.”

ever since that one incident, the boys have never let you hear the end of it. they may not realise it themselves either, but really, they’re just trying to keep low tabs on this…classmate. even if the way they go about it reflects the emotional maturity of somebody half their actual age.

“i admit it’s nice to be taken care of. what about you, huh?” you challenge, poking his side testingly. “you like taking care of me, don’t you?”

you giggle when he squirms and you try it again to elicit another response, until he suddenly grabs your hand by the wrist.

“and so what if i do?” his words come out easily, but unlike the usual cockiness and flirtatiousness that he jokes around with, his tone is low and serious.

you don’t respond because you don’t know what to respond; you’re suddenly walking in uncharted territory– both in regards to his feelings and your own.

when his fingertips brush the area of your cheeks just below your under-eyes, you can’t help the instinctive flutter of your lashes. his eyes stare into yours and you swallow, noticing the way his gaze flickers down to follow the movement. there’s hunger in his pupils and longing in your chest. you don’t move away when he moves closer in.

your eyelids flutter closed once again, except this time in anticipation. his hands still cup your cheek and hold your wrist and when he brings his face down towards yours, you can feel the warmth of his body surrounding and intoxicating you. but as his nose starts to nudge the softness of your cheeks, hongjoong pulls away.

“sorry, i–this was a mistake. i shouldn’t be doing this,” he stutters. and just like that, the moment shatters.

“th–that’s okay,” you awkwardly smile. “this never happened.”

he nods without looking at you, “this never happened.”

you’re glad your face is sunburnt because you’re certain your face would be glowing from the embarrassment and shame you are overwhelmed with. hongjoong turns around before you can say anything else and leaves the bathroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone.

quickly, you lock the door and then stand there stunned into a stupor. because his…whatever the fuck that was, has given you startling clarity that he is right. you shouldn’t be doing this. you shouldn’t be kissing him when you want san and your six other friends equally as much.

and most of all, it was foolish of you to assume that he actually wanted something more than friendship. if hongjoong, the most flirtatious of them all, doesn’t have any romantic interest in you– or at the very least enough to want to pursue something more– then what makes you think you have a chance with any of the boys? what makes you think that any of them– much less all of them– would want you in the same way that you have now realised you want them?

in a way, your heart feels more at ease now. knowing that your feelings for the boys will be unfruitful one way or another, it’s much easier to ignore the now obvious lurch in your heart whenever they pull you into an easy hug or tell you that you look pretty. it’s easier to repress the longing you have for them when they help you put on sunscreen or surround your house with mischief and laughter.

you can’t tell whether hongjoong is actively avoiding you or whether he is conveniently busy with the other boys, but you suppose time apart right now is good for the both of you. after all, time is supposed to heal everything. and so even as the end of summer approaches and the much anticipated night of the barbeque and campfire tradition arrives, you keep your distance from hongjoong and he keeps his. simply two friends coexisting within the larger group of friends; nothing more, nothing less.

you’re all sitting on a patchwork of picnic blankets and beach towels spread around the small fire that san has constructed, now experienced from having made one three years in a row. haneul shares the towel with you on one side and yunho on your other.

dinner had been greasy meat grilled by wooyoung’s skilled hands paired with cheap alcohol that made you all wince when it went down. it had been finished off with skewered marshmallows– the most vital part of the night, as mingi had fervently reminded everyone.

someone had then suggested a round of ‘truth or dare’, which most definitely did not stop at one round. the flushed cheeks and tipsy slurs not only made the dares increasingly bizarre, but it made everyone daring enough to actually do them. as the night had continued on, the outlandish dares slowly trickled off and more of you picked to answer truth questions. with the mellowing ambience of the campfire and the clearing buzz of alcohol in your systems, it was only a matter of time before the night fizzled into calm.

“mingi,” haneul directs her question at the taller, “ if you were to date one of us excluding me, who would it be?”

his eyes dart from her to you and then to every single one of his friends. “i’d date you all,” he shrugs. “but if i had to pick one person, then probably yunho, since he’s been there for me from day one.”

yunho knocks shoulders with him appreciatively whilst joking, “your parents would love to hear that answer.”

you spot san and wooyoung cringing at the thought and you’re reminded of snippets of a conversation about surfing as a distraction and escape from home.

moving the game on, mingi asks seonghwa when he picks truth, “if you had to pick between love and friendship, which one would it be?”

seonghwa hums for a while, watching the dancing lick of flames. “i think it depends on the situation, because in the end, they’re not that much different from each other. in love there is friendship, and in friendship there is love. it’s impossible to say that one is more important than the other.”

there’s a collective boo as he skirts around the question, but you all understand where he’s coming from. it still doesn’t stop san from retorting, “the whole point is to pick one.”

seonghwa chuckles and downs half a shot to appease the other of his apparent half answer, then tosses the same question at him. “what about you, then?”

much to his disappointment, san actually has an answer.

“i would probably choose love. i think you’re right in saying you can’t separate love and friendship, but the thing that sets a romantic relationship apart is being in love,” he muses. “it’s hard to find friends you love, but it’s even harder to find a friend you fall in love with, so i would probably hold onto that no matter what.”

a few of you subconsciously nod along, words resonating with yourselves. haneul nudges you curiously, “what do you think?”

you relax into her side as you slowly formulate a cohesive answer from your thoughts. “i think i would choose love, too. i’ll admit it’s a much more difficult relationship than friendship and it often requires sacrifices to be made…it can even mean having to let go of somebody completely.”

hongjoong glances at you, guilt pricking at his chest.

“but at the same time,” you continue, “when you love somebody that much, sacrifice becomes something you want to give and are willing to offer to the other person, and you develop a depth of understanding, connection and intimacy strong enough to overcome anything that isn’t always possible with friendship.”

“you and san are both such gross romantics,” haneul pretends to gag.

“yeah, shoot us for it,” you poke her in the side. “wooyoung, truth or dare?”

“since everyone’s picking truth…truth.”

“who’s someone you’re sorry towards or thankful for?”

he whines indignantly, “why are we suddenly getting so personal,” but proceeds to think about his answer seriously. “if i’m honest, i’m sorry towards everyone. i know there are times i fall short as a friend and make mistakes, but you all always forgive me and embrace my imperfections so graciously. sometimes it makes me wonder if i even deserve you guys.”

there are immediate noises of protest and wooyoung smiles, waving away their words of objection because he knows that he’s wrong. it’s just that knowing doesn’t always stop him from feeling a certain way. “and of course, what i’m sorry for goes hand in hand with what i’m thankful for. but i’m also especially thankful for y/n,” he reveals.

your body reacts instantly to his unexpected answer, blood rushing towards your cheeks and ears as he looks at you appreciatively.

“i haven’t known you for as long as most of the other boys, but i’ve seen how happy and vibrant they are whenever they return to seoul or whenever they talk about you. and i can definitely see why, now. you make them happy–you make us happy.”

mingi clears his throat, jumping in to add to the younger’s answer, “when i’m here in namhae with you, with everybody, it feels like home.”

a home that he’s never really had until yunho, san, you, and the rest of the boys came along.

“so thank you for giving me a home here,” mingi looks at you earnestly.

if he were sitting closer, you would reach over and squeeze his hand reassuringly. instead, you tell him, “no matter how many years go by, you’ll always have a home here.”

“and the rest of us?” yunho jokes, lightly slapping your knee where your legs have slowly made their way into his lap over the night.

“you all have a home here,” you amend. because namhae is not the same without san, and namhae is not the same without the rest of your friends, either.

you continue asking each other questions, even after midnight has long ticked past and haneul has retired back to the beach house for some sleep. nobody wants the night to end, because despite already having been attached to each other’s hips all summer, the time you are spending now around the campfire is different. life slows down and the nine of you are the only ones to exist along with the stars and the ocean waves.

“you know what we should do?” wooyoung pipes up when you are all quietly watching the fire. he grins, “we should do that thing where we shout at the ocean.”

“just…straight up scream?” hongjoong frowns.

a smile starts to spread across san’s face as he understands wooyoung’s vision. “no, like our dreams. regrets. confessions,” san elaborates, making a move to stand and brushing the sand off his shorts.

seonghwa questions, “are we really doing this?” and yet he stands up as well.

“when will we ever get a chance to do this again?”

one by one, you all get up on your feet and wander down the beach closer towards the water. it’s silent, save for the crash of waves, while you eye each other and wait for somebody to start it off.

yunho clears his throat, then yells his next words from the very depths of his chest, “i want to become a famous choreographer!”

there are shared giggles at the striking contrast in volume after hours of low, heartfelt conversation, but it’s enough to fill the rest of you with courage and desire to do the same.

“i want my parents to accept that i won’t be a lawyer like they wanted me to be!” yeosang calls out.

mingi takes a huge breath with his entire body, “i hope i’ll win the lottery one day!”

you all break out into laughter, happiness and vigour running high through your veins. it definitely feels a little silly and a little childish, but is that not the charm of living in the prime years of your youth and spending it with your friends?

reservations now completely thrown to the wind, the boys holler and yell both serious and unserious aspirations with their entire soul, cupping the sides of their mouths with their hands to carry their voices further out across the waters. you watch them with deep affection and tenderness and your eyes suddenly start to well up with the intensity of your emotions.

thank you for showing me what love feels like. you can continue to love them as friends, and that is already more than you could ever ask for.

taking a deep inhale of the chill of emerging dawn and blinking away the blur in your eyes, you join the boys and yell your heart out to the ocean. your screams blend together into a symphony of dreams and hopes; the swell of the chorus and the pinnacle of the movie.

and even though you’re all half-delirious from the lack of sleep, hair ruffled and mismatched pajamas wrinkled, it feels like anything and everything is possible in this moment. from here on, it’s the nine of you against the world and whatever it may bring.

you’ve known johnny since you started attending namhae’s provincial college. being from a relatively small cohort and the same degree no less, you share most of your classes together. there’ll be a few times throughout the month that you’ll find yourselves sitting in the seat beside each other and maybe once a semester that you’ll complete a group task together.

he’s easy enough to get along with, conversation sprinkled with terrible jokes and random puns that remind you of yunho’s silly humour. you know for a fact as well that they’re the same height too, which sort of makes you wonder whether being tall has something to do with the way their funny bone develops, considering mingi’s humour is just as questionable.

you and johnny aren’t exactly distant enough to only be classified as classmates, but you’re not exactly close either. so it’s a surprise when, after summer ends and it marks a new semester, johnny asks you out on a coffee date on the weekend. (except the more you think about it afterwards, the more your seemingly random interactions make sense. why he asks for your number even after the group project is over. why he offers to drop off handwritten notes for you. why he sometimes favours sitting with you as opposed to with his own friends.)

initially, you tell him that you’re not interested, any potential awkwardness dissipating the moment he dramatically wails that he’s been rejected, much like hongjoong had when you had first met him. but then a week later, johnny coolly slaps an envelope onto the surface of your lecture table and struts off without looking back. when you open it, you realise it’s a three-page handwritten essay detailing his pros and cons in an attempt to try and win you over.

it reminds you of wooyoung, when he had made a whole presentation on his laptop complete with photographic and videographic evidence to try and convince you that he was the best dancer out of himself, san, yunho and mingi. like your friend, johnny’s efforts are honestly a little too hilarious and a little too endearing to reject for a second time, and it’s not like johnny has done anything to suggest that he’s a creep or murderer. so you let him take you out on the date.

he chooses to go to the small, quaint cafe that’s about a fifteen-minute walk from campus. coincidentally, it’s the one that you and san used to frequent before he moved away to seoul. johnny tells you to try the chocolate hazelnut dacquoise slices, which you do even though you know you prefer the strawberry ones more. the sweet mouthful makes you think of san, always offering you the first bite of his chocolate dacquoise in hopes of converting you to the flavour.

johnny pays for your dessert and drink and you two end up sitting in the cafe long after your plates have been cleared and mugs emptied to their bottoms. it turns out he likes spending time at the beach just as much as you do and he tells you of his summer trip to the maldives for his casual modelling gig. you’re not entirely surprised to learn of his part-time endeavours, considering you’ve never seen him dressed in anything less than loafers, chino shorts and a neatly-pressed button-up shirt. plus, johnny is objectively very attractive with his strong brows, chiselled jawline and dark locks of hair.

he offers to walk you home after your date, shrugging off his white button-up and passing it to you when you exit the cafe. it’s still warm enough in the afternoon to not need the extra layer, but you’re reminded of yeosang’s quiet yet perceptive gestures and it makes you smile nonetheless.

the weekend leads to a second date, followed by more time spent together. he finds reasons to see you throughout the weeks– the sun’s out which means you two should take a walk along the beach; he fell asleep during yesterday’s lecture which means you two should study at the cafe; he has a basketball match on the weekend which means you two should practise shooting hoops together.

and when you’re not physically spending time together, johnny likes to facetime you just so that he can ‘see your pretty face’. the frequency with which he compliments you randomly throughout the call is almost on par with seonghwa, who always sweetly observes when you're wearing a new lip tint or different hairstyle.

johnny’s laugh, be it in person or over video call, never fails to make you laugh with him. it’s boisterous when he doubles over with laughter and his eyes disappear when he chuckles. you can’t help but see jongho’s own adorable giggles in him.

after several months of courting advances, johnny asks to make it official. you say yes, because you have fallen for him.

and so, like the dwindling campfire that had marked the end of summer, you snuff out the remains of the fire in your heart that has been burning for san, hongjoong and the six other boys, leaving the last of the embers to their fate. left alone, they will slowly die out, completely extinguishing the flames and leaving only ashen remnants behind…or the sparks will continue to fight unnoticed; until they rekindle and turn into an uncontainable inferno.

“with all due disrespect, his parents don’t fucking deserve to be parents,” wooyoung spits out.

yunho tucks the blotchy aftermath of mingi’s heartbreak a little tighter into the crook of his own neck, other hand softly tousling the ends of the younger’s hair. the boys have only just managed to settle mingi into one of the beds in their shared dorm rooms after he had shown up at the dance studio barely holding it together by his last thread.

“i don’t think any of us had high hopes for them, considering the things he’s told us about them over the last few years,” seonghwa sighs as he pulls the blanket over mingi’s shoulders.

“but for them to just fucking disown him like that? do they even realise how much it took for him to come clean about us?”

san gently pulls wooyoung away from the bed, lest he wake up the boy in question, and massages his clenched fist open. yeosang sidles up to the pair, “do you think we could go down to namhae a few days earlier this summer?”

“that actually might be possible,” san chews on his bottom lip and takes out his phone to text his parents. “it’ll be a nice surprise for y/n, too.”

“she’s in for a few surprises,” jongho comments before nudging the boy next to him. “hopefully you didn’t scare her off after what you did.”

hongjoong scratches the nape of his neck at the jab, “yeah, i hope i didn’t fuck things up for all of us.”

“you still haven’t talked it out with her?” san looks up from his phone.

hongjoong grimaces, “no, but how could i? she said to pretend that it didn’t happen.”

“and you just took her word for it? god, that’s literally the universal response anyone would automatically give in a situation that’s utterly and mortifyingly embarrassing,” wooyoung throws his arms up into the air. “i wouldn’t be surprised if she says no to us after all.”

“look, i’ll talk to her when we see her again. the semester’s nearly over, anyway.”

san nods, “my parents are fine with us going down a weekend earlier. and i agree with hongjoong on this one–it’s probably something they should talk about in person, not over the phone. let’s just hope we haven’t missed our timing with this.”

there’s only a few more weeks left until summer, minus one week now that they have decided to make the trip down to namhae earlier for mingi’s sake. and regardless of what your answer will be to the question that they’ll ask you– be it yes or no– it still won’t change the fact that everything will be okay once they get to namhae. because everything is okay as long as you are by their side.

there’s a man standing by your side, and it’s not one of them.

it’s strange to see you holding hands with someone that they don’t know. of course, it’s inevitable that you would have your own friends in namhae and from college, and of course it’s inevitable that you would have friends of both genders. but the way you have your fingers interlocked with his looks anything but platonic.

the boys are familiar with the way their own hands feel with yours nestled in theirs; from when you squeeze yourself between two of them and happily swing your intertwined hands back and forth; when a large wave threatens to topple you over and you instinctively reach for them for support; when you’re curled up against them and absentmindedly fiddling with their fingers whilst watching a cheesy summer romcom. but right now, their own hands feel unfamiliar– oddly empty and unable to make up its mind as to whether it wants to relax or tighten into a fist, even more so when you make eye contact with them standing outside san’s house and freeze.

you haven’t told the boys about johnny yet, only that you had news you wanted to tell them in person once they came for the summer. but now that they are here, standing right in front of you and your boyfriend, you suddenly feel a prick of guilt that you hadn’t given them a heads up of some kind.

you slip your hand out of johnny’s grasp under the guise of tidying your hair. if johnny notices, he doesn’t comment on it. instead, he asks, “you know them?” and settles his arm heavily over your shoulders. the action probably looks as territorial as it feels.

“yeah, they’re my closest friends,” you answer louder than you need to, because you feel like you have to defend them– or yourself. “san’s from namhae, too, and the others are from different provinces. they go to college together in seoul.”

“oh,” your boyfriend makes a noise, “it’s them.”

hongjoong feels awfully smug at that comment, because it means that you’ve talked about them before. he feels even more pleased when you slightly step out from under the man’s arm. but then your next words have his expression darkening again.

“i was going to officially introduce him to you guys on your first day…i just wasn’t expecting it to be today,” you gently place your hand on johnny’s forearm. “this is johnny, my boyfriend.”

immediately, the boys recognise his name– how could they forget, when the name has never once left their subconscious since the moment he was mentioned. a fleeting thought enters hongjoong’s mind. if he had not pulled away that night– if he had kissed you instead of being a coward– would it be him standing by your side as your boyfriend right now?

and hongjoong is not alone in his thoughts. wooyoung’s teeth grit together as he wonders how different things may have turned out if only the older or he himself had been bolder with their feelings. if only any of them had plucked up the courage to make the first move. because you dating any of them would automatically put their heart infinitely more at ease than the literal fucking stranger who is standing by your side.

you’re about to tell your boyfriend the names of the eight boys in front of you when he raises an eyebrow at you, “you didn’t tell me your friends were all guys.” his tone isn’t accusatory, per se, but it’s definitely not cordial, either. this side of johnny is completely new to you.

seeing the flustered look on your face irks wooyoung in every way possible so he interrupts, “and why does it matter to you?”

johnny levels him with a look for several seconds before smiling placatingly. “you’ll understand when you get a girlfriend,” he dismisses.

immediately, there’s a palpable spike in tension. “sorry?” wooyoung scoffs.

san sets a firm hand on the back of wooyoung’s neck and you lowly murmur your boyfriend’s name– respectively scruffing the two men. you didn’t know what to expect introducing your friends and boyfriend to each other. but the start of what looks like it has the potential to turn into a fight was definitely not on the list.

in a lame attempt to change the topic, you comment, “you guys are here early this year.”

there’s a beat of silence that’s a split second longer than you deem comfortable and yunho clears his throat, “yeah…things ended up this way.”

the vague comment and pointed look in your boyfriend’s direction tells you that there’s more to it than they are letting you onto right now. you make a mental note to talk to them once johnny leaves…if he ends up leaving. but the heavy weight that is still draped around your shoulder shows no intention of removing itself.

even though your instinct is to run up to the boys and receive all the hugs you have missed, and their instinct is to pull you away from the unfamiliar man and back into the intimacy of their group, the arm around you is a stark reminder to everyone that you’re not single anymore– that there are now boundaries to respect. instead, your friends are left to shuffle awkwardly on the spot with wavering gazes as if they have caught you doing something they weren’t supposed to see.

“do you have classes today?” san dares to ask.

“not today. we were just…out,” you reply. on a date, it goes unsaid.

“well, we’re headed for the beach,” san hates the fact that he even has to ask his next sentence, “do you want to join us?”

looking at johnny, you hate the fact that your immediate answer isn’t to say yes. he glances at you and then answers on your behalf, “we’ll join. it’ll be nice for us to get to know each other, since it seems like we’ll be seeing each other often this summer.”

“not if you don’t show up,” wooyoung mutters under his breath, but he’s not really trying to be quiet about his disdain.

you fake a smile and push your boyfriend towards the entrance to your house. “we’ll get changed and then meet you guys down at the beach.” you don’t wait for an answer before shoving the front door open and shut again in quick succession behind you.

“wait here,” you tell johnny, “i’ll get you a spare pair of shorts,” then you disappear into your bedroom and let out a deep exhale, closing your eyes to clear your head.

you had spent the last few years embracing the changes in your relationship with san. every summer marked a change in your friendship group– a new chapter each year as you rewrote the group dynamics with additional people to love and be loved by.

this summer, like the others, also marks a change and beginning of a new chapter, but now you’re realising that not all chapters in a story will always be happy. instead, some chapters will mark the beginning of the complication.

it feels like an unusual mix between deja vu and an out-of-body experience as san straps the leash of his surfboard around his ankle. his gaze follows your form and he watches silently when you’re picked by the waist and tossed into the ocean. it looks all too familiar– except instead of him being the one who brings the laughter out of your squeals, it’s that annoyingly tall and irritatingly jacked dude that is your boyfriend.

san can’t help the sigh that escapes his lips as he peels his eyes away. if johnny makes you happy, then objectively, san wants nothing more for you. but he cannot help but feel that you are undeserving of anything less than the entire world; something he and his boys are willing to give to you. but life is all about timing and it seems like they’ve missed theirs.

he’s distracted by the sight of you and johnny in his peripheral vision, even as he paddles out into the deeper waters with yunho. the taller is uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes repeatedly flickering back and forth between you and mingi. mingi needed this trip more than any of them combined, but there’s an uneasy feeling in the pit of yunho’s stomach that’s telling him the appearance of your boyfriend is only just the beginning of a rocky summer.

regardless of their combined years of surfing experience, both yunho and san seem to continuously lose their balance on their boards today. and despite the saltiness of the sea water that flows into san’s mouth each time he falls– no longer the graceful choreographer of the sea– there’s a bitter taste on his tongue that he cannot get rid of no matter how many bottles of water he drinks over the rest of the day.

it follows him even when the sweet fragrance of fresh pastries and syrupy drinks permeates the air the moment he walks into the bakery you so adore after your group walks from the beach. san pulls the glass door open for you, wind chime tinkling softly overhead, and he has to resist the urge to let go of the door handle when your boyfriend also walks through without so much as a word or glance of gratitude.

before san walks up to the counter, he instinctively turns around to check your order before he adds it to his own like he has always done. “strawberry dacquoise and grapefruit ade?”

you’re about to nod when johnny steps into place beside you and asserts, “she likes the chocolate ones.”

san keeps his voice as even as he can and refutes, “no, y/n prefers the strawberry ones. i would know, considering we’ve been going to this cafe together since we were twelve.” he emphasises the last word, clearly telling the other that he is the one who has known you since you were young and therefore knows you the best out of anyone, boyfriend be damned.

not backing down, johnny turns to ask, “is that true, babe?”

you swallow uncomfortably, mouth suddenly dry. “i like both,” you evade.

but your lack of denial says more than enough and johnny’s frown deepens almost immediately. at his expression, you rush to amend, “i know you like the chocolate ones more. it makes me happy sharing them with you.”

“you should’ve told me,” johnny fusses. but opposed to disappointment at not having known your preference for strawberry, he seems more displeased at having discovered this fact through your male friend.

san notices how apologetic you start to feel and he absolutely despises how unfamiliar it looks on your face. if this is the type of boyfriend that he is giving you up to, then san is not prepared to let go of you at all.

“or maybe you should’ve noticed,” he shrugs nonchalantly in your boyfriend’s direction before smiling tenderly at you. “i’ll order your food. go find a seat with seong–”

johnny’s voice is heated when he interjects, “no, you won’t. i’ll pay for my girlfriend’s food.”

you’ve never heard him talk with this tone before, much less seen him act this way, but his words suddenly strike you with clarity and reasoning. with a relationship comes adherence to mutual boundaries and expectations, and although san is used to doting on you, the reality now is that johnny currently fulfills that role as your boyfriend.

“it’s alright, san. thank you,” you give your friend a soft smile. “johnny’s got it for me.”

san nods, defeated. your boyfriend gently nudges you in the direction of the tables, “go sit down. i’ll bring our order over when it’s ready.”

on edge, you walk to where some of the boys are already seated and slide in beside seonghwa, who has been watching the entire exchange silently. “y/n,” he starts.

you plaster on a smile, “it’s okay.”

seonghwa studies you carefully for a moment, then appears to make up his mind about something and returns your smile. except anybody can see that it doesn’t reach his eyes. “do you want to swap seats with me? that way you and johnny can sit on the same side.”

grateful for his thoughtfulness, you change seats and sit on his left just as wooyoung joins the table with an iced americano in his hand. he sets it down to drag a spare chair beside him, offhandedly commenting, “why are you even dating him? i don’t get what you see in him.”

he hisses when seonghwa kicks his shin from under the table, shaking his head, and you just give the younger a tight-lipped smile in response. you’re distracted by the buzz of your phone in your pocket. a quick glance downwards tells you that it’s a text from san.

sorry for putting you between your bf and i

you look up in surprise and find that he’s already gazing at you from where he’s waiting at the counter. his eyebrows knit together in apology and you shake your head, mouthing that it’s okay. san has always been the bigger person in any situation– with you, with friends and family, and even with people he doesn’t necessarily see eye to eye with.

your phone buzzes again, twice in succession, but this time the notifications aren’t from him. it’s johnny.

what’s his problem, god wants to get into your pants or sth

your boyfriend continues to tap away at his phone, expression marred with poorly concealed irritation. but he doesn’t seem to be referring to your texting exchange with san– you don’t think he’s even noticed. instead, he’s still hooked on the ordering incident.

slipping the phone back into your pocket and pretending you have not noticed the messages yet, you simply wait for johnny to grab the tray with your pastries and drinks before he slides into the chair next to you. and for the first time since dating, you find yourself comparing your boyfriend not to san, but against him.

it feels like you have spent the last two months treading carefully on eggshells. there are days you spend with both johnny and the boys and it becomes clear to everyone pretty quickly that they’re not warming up to each other. despite your best efforts to bring them closer, there is unmistakable tension that underlies every interaction that they have and don’t have with one another.

then there are the days you spend with just your boyfriend. he doesn’t mention your friends and neither do you, but you notice the way his gaze flickers to your phone whenever it lights up with a notification. like a mutual taboo, he simply continues the conversation after a pause and you don’t point it out.

and then there are the rarer days that you spend with just the eight of your friends, like today– the ones that feel like the old summers that you have started to yearn. and yet, even with the familiar essence of the past, you start to notice them. the subtle differences.

it’s not obvious at first. the casual displays of affection that have extended beyond habitual touches and have just become who they are are still there. but there’s something about the attentiveness with which seonghwa dusts the powdered sugar off of yeosang’s cheeks when he’s eating. or in the naturalness with which wooyoung moulds himself into san’s side when they sit on the couch. something in the way mingi’s entire body relaxes whenever yunho gently thumbs the nape of his neck, and in the softening of hongjoong’s eyes when jongho speaks up in conversation.

maybe it’s because you find yourself no longer a part of their shared love, regardless of how platonic it may be between you and the boys. ultimately, it’s easier to notice things when you’re watching on as what feels like an outsider. and it makes sense that the dynamics of your friendship would change, considering how deeply embedded physical affection is within your group and the fact that you now have a boyfriend, but there’s something more to their interactions– you’re sure of it. you just can’t put your finger on what exactly.

it’s that thought that reminds you of yunho’s words when he and the rest of your friends had turned up a week before the start of summer. “what did you mean about things having ended up this way when you guys came down to namhae early?” you suddenly ask, eyes looking away from the television screen where the round of their game has just ended. “and wasn’t there something else you guys had wanted to tell me about?”

clearly not having expected your questions, yunho blinks as he formulates a response, “yeah, there is. just–maybe talk to mingi first. you’ll probably want to hear it directly from him.”

and hongjoong needs to talk to you first, too, yunho thinks to himself. except, he wonders whether there is even a point to it anymore.

your heart sinks at yunho’s words because you have a feeling it has to do with mingi’s parents. and his parents are never good news. right at that moment, mingi emerges through the doorway after his shower, a towel draped over his shoulders as he uses its ends to roughly dry his hair. he stops in his tracks when he notices you and yunho staring at him.

“i know i’m hot but you don’t have to make it that obvious,” he jokes.

you snort and shake your head, getting up to your feet and walking over to him as yunho watches knowingly. “come sit outside with me for a bit?” you ask mingi.

he agrees, pulling the towel off and tossing it onto the back of a chair to dry. you catch a whiff of san’s shampoo when he moves, the fragrance of cedarwood and bergamot that all the boys end up being scented with each summer filling your nose.

the two of you sit on the embankment just outside san’s house, legs dangling off the edge of the port. you can just barely toe the start of the sand but mingi easily shuffles his feet in it, drawing lazy patterns in your company. after a few minutes of peaceful silence, he nudges you gently albeit playfully, “did you want to ask me something?”

you chuckle at having been exposed and nudge him back in response. he never budges, torso bigger and more muscular than you can move, but it doesn’t stop you from trying and him from laughing endearingly.

“i asked yunho why you guys came down earlier this summer and he said to ask you,” you peer at him, treading carefully with your next words, “is everything okay?”

he takes a breath, exhaling long and slow. “i came out to my parents,” he reveals. “told them i’m bi and…they didn’t take it well.”

mingi doesn’t need to elaborate for you to understand that his parents didn’t just ‘not take it well’. you can only imagine the hell that broke loose. “oh, mingi,” you sigh, eyebrows knitting together with hurt.

“i also told them that i’m dati–”

the sound of the door opening and the call of your name stops mingi from finishing his sentence. it’s yunho with a ringing phone in his hand. “you might want to take this call,” he alerts you.

frowning, you make a stand to reach for your phone, asking, “who is it?”

he glances down awkwardly at the screen that is still on. “your boyfriend.”

you’re just about to slide the answer button when the call disconnects and you see that including the one that has just ended, you have four missed calls.

“oh, shit,” you can’t help the curse that slips out of your mouth. four missed calls is never a good sign from anybody, much less your boyfriend, who has also sent you several texts asking where you are.

seeing the darkening of your expression, yunho misses the girl whose biggest worry was the number of ice cream scoops to scam hongjoong out of. he misses the girl whose smile was brighter than the reflected sun on san’s surfboard. most of all, yunho misses the girl he has fallen in love with.

“y/n, i’m going to be honest with you,” he hesitates slightly. “i don’t think he’s the right one for you.”

you know that yunho’s looking out for you and his heart is in the right place, but it’s not what you want to– or need to hear right now. and perhaps, there’s an inkling of you that already knows. still, you try to keep your voice even when you reply, “i’d know if he’s not.”

you turn to mingi next and shoot him an apologetic look, “i’m sorry but i should probably call him back. we’ll talk later, yeah?”

mingi doesn’t know when later will be and neither do you. but he simply nods and lets you go, watching dejectedly as your form disappears back into your house at the same time san steps out of his. he had been carefully observing from the window the moment yunho had walked out with your incessantly ringing phone in his hand.

“guess he takes priority over us now,” mingi sighs.

san looks at him bittersweetly, “that’s what happens when you find somebody you love. like johnny is her priority, you are my priority and yunho’s. in fact, you’re the priority of five other people as well.” despite the fact that he is shorter, san still reaches up to flick mingi’s nose affectionately as he fondly states, “aren’t you lucky.”

mingi scrunches his nose in retaliation and san diverts the topic, “now come on, are you going to just stand back and let yunho win the game again?”

the younger grins, light returning to his eyes as he cheekily suggests, “you distract him while i cheat?”

“i’m right here,” yunho protests, but he’s shaking his head dotingly. together, he and mingi make their way back into the house, hands finding each other as they pass through the threshold.

san lingers behind and stares at the closed door of your house. for the longest time, you have been one of san’s priorities, if not the priority. over the last few years, the number of his priorities have steadily grown and you now share the top of the list in his heart with seven other boys. your happiness is san’s priority, as is the happiness of the others.

but what happens when interests start to conflict and your boyfriend– and by association, you– becomes a reason for unhappiness amongst the people he cares so dearly for? what happens if there comes a day where he must choose between his priorities and push somebody down the list, or worse…completely out of his heart?

you’re just as troubled when, half an hour after his missed calls and your subsequent response asking to meet up, you and johnny aimlessly wander the streets of the neighbourhood. the air is tense and despite the cry of cicadas, the silence from the lack of conversation is the only sound that you can hear. you can tell that he’s displeased by the fact that you had been with your friends, but you’re not exactly happy with him right now either.

you know an argument’s brewing– one that has been long coming, perhaps since the start of summer. you could have chosen to take the night to cool down, but it will eventually boil over one day, be it him or yourself. better to address it now than wait until it’s too late, and perhaps you can salvage it before it does boil over.

“why did you call me so many times?”

johnny knows you’re not only asking about tonight, and definitely not only about his phone calls. and yet, your tone is not accusatory, only genuinely curious and open to understanding his reasoning and emotions. solely because he feels guilt starting to prick his insides at your question does he make an attempt to reign in his childish jealousy that has reared its head so many times in the last two months.

“i didn’t know where you were,” he halfheartedly answers. “i thought something had happened.”

you both know it’s a lie– a pretty bad one at that. you had texted him just mere hours ago telling him that you would be at san’s. at his excuse, you raise an eyebrow.

“i don’t like the way they look at you,” johnny finally admits, partially showing his true colours. “especially san.”

you had guessed just as much and you can see why he might feel that way, but you want him to see where you’re coming from, too. “we grew up together, johnny. we’re each other’s best friend and he doesn’t like me like that.”

warm breath ghosting over your lips and then disappearing just as fast flits across your memory. “none of them do,” you emphasise. “and i’ve been transparent about hanging out with them when you’re not there, haven’t i? i literally texted you a few hours ago.”

he hesitates, “i was busy playing basketball with my friends. i missed your text and then you didn’t reply or answer my calls…” the way his voice drops off the more he talks is a good indicator that he knows the patheticness of his justification.

“and i was busy with my friends, too,” you reason. “you’re not glued to your phone, and neither am i.”

you continue when he stays silent, “you’re my boyfriend and i understand that it can make you feel uneasy when i hang out with so many guys, but you have to understand that they’re my friends, and my closest ones too. i would appreciate it if you give me more space when i’m with them, but i’ll also try to make sure i’m reachable on my phone so you have a piece of mind.”

you look at him and search his eyes for any indicators that he has more to say. from the way his jaw clenches subtly, you know that he’s disgruntled at best. but to your surprise he does not protest, instead nodding and walking you back to your house. you can’t tell whether the silence this time is slightly better or just as suffocating.

when you reach your front door, the lights are still on in the neighbouring house and you can hear the muted ruckus of laughter. as you unlock your door and pull it open, your boyfriend surprises you once more by calling out, “i love you.”

you learn a lot about a person simply from the things that they say, and sometimes–

“i know,” you reply gently, before shutting the door.

–you learn even more about a person simply from the things that they don’t say.

it’s two weeks after your conversation with johnny when he runs into some of the boys at one of the beachside cafes without your presence.

with autumn just around the corner, you’re spending the day transitioning the rice seedlings, now almost at the height of your thighs, from the wet paddies to the drier fields since your parents aren’t in namhae to do it. only mingi, yunho and jongho are helping you out; you had discovered the hard way last summer that letting all eight of them help you was, in fact, counterproductive when there were more plants being trampled on than safely moved.

and so while the four of you are working in the rice paddy, the remaining boys sit on the cafe terrace that overlooks the beach about a ten-minute drive from your and san’s houses. a hush suddenly falls over their conversation, elbows inconspicuously nudging one another and shoulders tensing when they spot your boyfriend making his way towards the cafe with a small group of his own friends.

a smirk graces johnny’s lips when his gaze falls upon the five of your friends, ignoring the courteous nod of acknowledgement that seonghwa attempts to make on their behalf and instead walking closer onto the cafe’s terrace. it’s not clearly audible, but it’s definitely direct enough for the boys to make out the words when johnny walks past and mutters, “fuckin’ pussies.”

wooyoung immediately reacts. “what the fuck did you just say?” he growls threateningly as seonghwa squeezes his thigh in anticipation of him standing up.

johnny pauses to look at them with faux innocence, “i wasn’t talking to you guys, but i guess if you’re offended–”

it’s hongjoong who rises to his feet first, chair screeching as it slides out from under his knees along the wooden deck. “you say one more fucking word,” he starts, eyes thunderous and fists turning white at his sides.

“and you’ll what,” johnny sneers, “run to my girlfriend crying? ask her to have a little talk with me?”

at the mention of you, both san and wooyoung join hongjoong on their feet. “watch what you say,” san looks at him dangerously. “don’t bring y/n into this.”

the commotion is starting to attract the attention of the staff and other customers in the cafe. seonghwa slowly stands, preparing to step in before it can escalate into something physical as yeosang grips the seat of his chair.

johnny steps closer and scoffs, “that’s bullshit. you guys can’t even take care of your own feelings so you have to hide behind my girlfriend like a bunch of pathetic losers. it makes no fucking sense for her to ask me to leave her alone when she’s with you guys.”

“and i bet it’s never fucking crossed your mind that maybe it’s an issue with something you’re doing–not us,” wooyoung reciprocates with his own bold step closer.

he’s suddenly jerked forward when johnny fists the front of his shirt and instantly everyone moves in towards the two. seonghwa wedges his arms against their chests to prevent wooyoung from getting dragged further forward, though the younger is fiercely standing his ground, teeth bared and eyes murderous. save for yeosang, who comes to stand protectively behind him, the remaining two boys are swept up into the beginnings of a scuffle as johnny’s friends step in as well.

“look at you, all riled up,” johnny goads, ignoring the hands that are trying to keep him subdued. “and she tells me that you don’t all want to fuck her?”

seonghwa inhales sharply as he attempts to overpower both wooyoung and hongjoong, who is now extremely determined to connect his fist with your boyfriend’s face. but to many of their infuriation, the fist doesn’t get a chance to hit its well-deserved target when there’s a firm shout over the commotion.

the cafe manager harshly warns, “we’re going to have to ask you all to leave the premises, otherwise we’re going to call the police.”

“wooyoung! hongjoong!” seonghwa hisses. “it’s not worth the trouble. stop!”

there are a few tense seconds of heaving chests and grinding jaws before johnny lets wooyoung go with a shove and hongjoong begrudgingly and slowly lowers his raised fist.

“you bitches got lucky this time,” johnny glowers. he beckons to his friends with a jerk of his head, still glaring at wooyoung, then kicks a chair out of his way as he leaves the cafe. in the wake of the confrontation, seonghwa turns to look at the manager and creases his eyebrows in apology, bowing multiple times to the other employees and customers too.

the manager nods wryly, “you and your friends are still going to have to leave.”

“we understand,” seonghwa replies, beginning to usher hongjoong and wooyoung towards the exit. “we’re truly sorry.”

as the five of them walk out, his eyes dart around anxiously in case your boyfriend and his friends are still lingering around. muscles taut and on edge, seonghwa makes a decision as the oldest. “let’s go home,” he declares, “we can wait there.”

they pile into the jeep wordlessly and san turns on the ignition, pulling out of the small car park and heading back to his. they’re only a few minutes away when wooyoung breaks the silence, “so who’s gonna tell y/n that her boyfriend’s a fucking asshole and that she needs to break up with his sorry ass?” he fumes. “because if no one’s going to do it, then i’m going to tell her the moment we get home.”

“wooyoung,” seonghwa starts.

“no, don’t wooyoung me,” he snaps. “he’s a fucking pretentious dickhead and she needs to know that. i don’t even care if we don’t ever get to talk about that other thing with her anymore. all i care is that he never gets to show his face in front of her ever again.”

seonghwa rubs his temples in frustration. he argues, “look, i agree with you and i’m not saying we shouldn’t tell y/n. but we need to put our feelings aside and think about this rationally, otherwise we could end up hurting her.”

“i think she’s going to get hurt regardless of how we approach it,” hongjoong snarks as the other levels him with a look.

“the campfire night is only a few days away,” yeosang points out. “maybe we should wait until that’s over…you know how excited she and mingi get about it each year.”

hongjoong protests, “and wait for her to bring johnny along on the day? sorry, but not even seonghwa is going to be able to stop me from sucker-punching him to the ground.”

“surely she’s not going to bring him. it’s a day just for us,” yeosang frowns.

san feels their questioning gazes settling on him and he glances in the rearview mirror to confirm his hunch. “i don’t know, probably not?” he answers whilst shrugging, turning into the small street that leads to your house. “but honestly? i think we should wait until after that day to talk to her. i don’t see the point in ruining it for any more of us.”

seonghwa agrees and adds on, “and only one of us should have the conversation with her. san, you’re probably the best person out of us.”

san hums in agreement, slowly braking the car to a stop before he turns in his seat to look at the rest of them. “i’ll find a time to talk to her and in the meantime,” he looks at wooyoung and hongjoong gently, knowing how frustrated they must be feeling, “we wait.”

there’s only a few more days until the campfire– they only need to hold out for a little longer until then. what could possibly go wrong?

“are you sure it’s a good idea to leave hongjoong and y/n to get the snacks together?”

seonghwa tenderly thumbs yeosang’s lips from out of his teeth, where he has been biting the corner of his lips in worry, and answers, “he’s hopeless at buying all the other things and she knows what snacks we like the best.” seonghwa knows hongjoong’s way of being confrontational is stark and direct, but he also has faith in the other that he won’t prematurely bring up your boyfriend and risk hurting you with the conversation.

you make your way down the snack aisles of the grocery store with hongjoong and it feels both familiar and foreign. there are no shopping cart races or invisible finish flags this time– only the two of you and the baskets in his hands as he carries whatever you pluck off the shelves. it’s been a while since you’ve had time alone with hongjoong; not since the incident last summer.

looking down at the shopping baskets, you put another packet of banana crisps in before commenting, “let’s get some sweet things and then that should be enough for the ten of us.”

hongjoong cocks his head, “haneul’s coming?”

“...no,” you look at him carefully, “johnny is.”

“johnny? you’re joking.”

you frown at the sudden coldness in his tone, “he’s my boyfriend, hongjoong.” johnny had been strangely adamant about going today and you had also noticed he seemed to be irritated about something. so quite frankly, you weren’t about to tell him no.

“and he’s also an asshole, you know that? why are you even dating him?”

you know your boyfriend and your friends still aren’t on amicable terms, but you’re honestly getting tired of feeling like you have to justify yourself and your dating life. and considering you have just had a talk with johnny to try and make things better for everyone, you can’t help but feel like you are being pushed into a corner yet again.

“asshole or not, at least he’s honest about his feelings for me,” you retort pointedly.

“oh?” hongjoong scoffs in disbelief, “is that what this is about?”

you challenge him with a glare, “what do you think i’m implying?”

“so i’m the bad guy now? i thought you liked me. since when did you stoop so low as to throw yourself at any guy who makes a move on you?”

your jaw drops. “you know what? what the fuck is your problem?” you shove his chest in anger. “let’s not forget that you were the one who tried to kiss me first and you were the one who also stopped. yeah, i did like you, but at least i’m willing to admit it.”

you step in closer, breathing heavy as you continue heatedly, “what about you? what the fuck have you done that makes you think you have any right to say that my decisions are wrong.”

hongjoong grits his teeth, “you’re making a mistake dating him.”

“yeah, you would know something about mistakes,” you throw back sarcastically. “but then again, you were probably happy to pretend it never happened and forget about it.”

“don’t fucking put words into my mouth,” he warns.

“it seems to be the only way i can get you to talk about us. you have no issues giving me shit about my relationship with my boyfriend, but when it comes to our relationship it’s radio silence for a year.”

hongjoong at least has the decency to look guilty when he declares, “i was going to talk to you about it face to face.”

“whatever, hongjoong. it’s too late,” you brush him off.

you snatch the baskets out his hands and walk away, no longer concerned over what snacks the boys will have for the campfire later tonight. you just want to get away from hongjoong, so you do exactly that. you leave him alone in the aisle to stare at the view of your back walking further away from him. life is all about timing and hongjoong has long missed his.

hours later, mingi scans the room from where he’s perched on a stool at the kitchen island in your house. everyone is either lounging around, preparing the meat and cutlery or setting up the grill and table outside– everyone except for one.

“where’s hongjoong?” he asks nobody in particular. he doesn’t think he’s seen the other since they’ve all come back from the grocery store.

“he’s resting in my room,” san answers. “said he wasn’t feeling too well but he’ll join us later.”

you roll your eyes at the knives you’re counting out, opting to keep your mouth shut. what san doesn’t say either, though, is that he knows something is off– hongjoong was completely fine this morning and you were definitely in higher spirits.

there’s an abrupt knock at your front door and you put the cutlery down, saying, “i’ll get it.” you know it’s probably johnny so you don’t bother squinting through the peephole before pulling the door open and blinking, “you look nice today.”

your boyfriend has styled his hair so that it slicks back from his forehead, parted down the right side of his scalp. he’s dressed in his usual smart casual fit but has chosen to pair it with accessories to accentuate his collarbones and wrists. he shrugs, “wanted to look good.”

you lead him to the open kitchen and immediately, you notice the shift in the air. a few of the boys give a tight-lipped smile in acknowledgement, but the expressions on wooyoung and san, and even yeosang and seonghwa go blank or two shades darker. hongjoong’s uncharacteristic cold feet suddenly makes a lot of sense to san now.

“you invited johnny?” san’s question is eerily monotone. a blunt knife may not be able to cut through rope, but with continuous abrasion and chafing, even the thickest of ropes will eventually sever.

your voice is not entirely friendly when you reply, “yes, san. i invited my boyfriend.”

“and why the fuck did you do that?”

san’s swearing has you reeling in surprise, but it’s quickly replaced by pent-up stress and anger that has been lingering for weeks and exacerbated by your argument with hongjoong mere hours ago. your entire body starts to heat up when san continues to criticise, “we’ve put up with him for long enough, don’t you think? it’s one thing for you to date him of all people, but it’s another thing to bring him to this.”

you laugh bitingly, no longer concerned about trying to deal with this maturely. all you can think about is how san is hurting you and how you want to hurt him back too. “so you can bring whoever the fuck you want each year, but i can’t bring my own boyfriend?” you retort.

the silence is deafening. nobody moves as they try to process the words that have just been thrown at them. yunho’s eyes are wide with confusion more than hurt at how quickly this argument has escalated, and he slowly raises his arms out in front of him, “okay, i think we all need to–”

“whoever the fuck–are we just ‘whoever’ to you?” wooyoung harshly interrupts. “we’ve been trying to look out for you and this is what we fucking get in return?”

you know that you won’t be able to take your words back after you say them, but they slip out anyway as you counter, “i didn’t ask any of you to look out for me.”

yunho’s arms fall limply to his sides and seonghwa looks away. wooyoung’s words are resigned and stony when he stares at you dead in the eye and says, “you know, y/n. we needed this trip this summer…more than anything. but thanks for ruining it for all of us.” then he brushes past your shoulder and slams the front door on his way out.

one by one, the boys follow him out of your house– first yeosang, then seonghwa, neither of them able to look you in the eye. when yunho and jongho hesitantly walk past you as well, they give you a small, apologetic wince. 

mingi still stands in the room. he has been quiet throughout the entire argument but his eyes tell a story of a million words. he’s filled with hurt and sorrow if not obvious by the wetness that starts to well in his eyes. “i guess you were just saying it when you told me i have a home here with you in namhae,” he chokes out.

your own eyes grow hot as you shake your head, “mingi, that’s not–”

but he leaves before you can say anything else. turning back towards the interior of your house– now looking far too spacious and vast without one of your friends occupying every available surface– you are left alone with just san and johnny. the heat of the fight is quickly slipping away, instead rushing all towards your eyes, and you call out san’s name. what for, you don’t know, but your cry is timid and desperate.

as much as it pains san to make a decision, mingi needs him– his boys need him, and they are his priority now. right there and then, san discovers for himself his final answer when it comes to choosing between love and friendship. he walks out of your house, turning his back on you.

you jolt awake feeling disorientated. your head feels clouded, eyes blurry from swelling and you’re still in the clothes from last night that you don’t recall falling asleep in. reaching for your phone, you wonder whether it has already ticked past noon for you to have woken up on your own, except you find that its dead. you roll over with a groan and plug your phone into its charger, then haul yourself upwards.

you rinse the stale taste out of your mouth before walking out to the living room and immediately, you’re hit with the memories and intense emotions of last night. there are packets of raw meat still unopened and bottles of soju still littering the table that you hadn’t tidied up. in the aftermath of the argument, you had told johnny to give you some space and to go home. you had then gone straight to your bedroom, covering yourself with the blankets in an attempt to hide yourself from the world and cried out your sorrows until you exhausted yourself to sleep.

you let out a long and heavy sigh, soul still exhausted to the very core, so you turn back towards your bedroom. you’ll clean everything up when you’re feeling a little more confident to face the consequences of last night. sitting on the edge of your bed, you reach for your phone. there are a few texts from johnny that you scroll past when something else catches your eye.

it’s a text from jongho, timestamped for 1:17 am. you and the boys rarely have a reason to message each other individually, preferring to use the group chat since there are no secrets shared. although, you suppose, none of you will be using the group chat for a while…

you tap on jongho’s notification. instantly, your heart drops all the way to the bottom of your stomach and past it. you think your heart is down in the fucking ground, because–

hey, wasn’t sure if you’d want to know or not but i think we’re going back to seoul in the morning

the numbers in the corner of your phone tell you that it’s already eleven thirty, and that’s when you hear it– the noise that had woken you up earlier. the distinct slam of a car boot closing shut. you jolt up to your feet, panic coursing through your veins as blood rushes to your ears and drowns out all rational thoughts. you forgo any shoes and throw your front door open to run outside, uncaring of the grit that digs painfully into the soles of your feet.

a brief flash of relief flickers across jongho’s face at your appearance but you miss it in your frenzy to make sense of what you are seeing. all three of their cars are parked in a line, their surfboards already strapped and secured to the car hoods or in the bed of the ute. the last of their luggage and duffel bags are being loaded and san is locking his front door.

every summer, the boys wait until the last possible second to leave, to the point where you have to forcibly push them towards their cars with fond laughter. it’s only thursday today and summer doesn’t end for another three days, and yet–

“you guys are leaving?” you ask apprehensively.

nobody answers you immediately. the only sound that punctuates the silence is the forceful slam of a door as wooyoung enters the car. hongjoong accidentally makes eye contact with you and his eyes narrow before he opens the door to his ute and also disappears.

jongho clears his throat awkwardly, “yeah, we’re heading back early.”

“oh…” you’re at a loss for words, unsure of how to react to this situation. “drive safe.”

like a parallel of last night, the boys enter their respective cars one by one, jongho giving you a subtle wave. guilt stifles you for the things you have said to the boys and you’re also consumed by hurt from the things they have said to you. but you know for certain that you cannot just let this friendship fall through the cracks like this.

as san makes his way to his jeep, which is parked at the front of the line as the lead driver, you watch carefully for any sign that things are still salvageable for your friendship. a smile, a glance, a nod– anything. but he simply pulls his jeep door open like you are invisible.

you hesitantly ask him, “i’ll see you next summer?”

san is expressionless but he may as well be glaring at you when he replies, “don’t count on it,” and for the second time of your life, he turns his back on you.

as san buckles his seatbelt in, trying his goddamn hardest to pretend he doesn’t see the tears now beginning to fall from your eyes, he tells himself that you’ve made your decision and he’s made his. he has chosen his priorities and will give you up, and yet, still he hopes that one day you’ll realise you deserve better and break up with johnny. san hopes that you’ll come across somebody more than better, even if it cannot be him.

before yunho also gets into the jeep, he pauses in front of you. he fists the sides of his pants to stop himself from reaching out to wipe your tears away. instead, he consoles, “i think we all just need a little bit of time, yeah?”

you nod numbly at his words. you’re forced to take several steps back out of the way after yunho also shuts his door closed and the engines hum to life in succession. unable to do anything, you can only watch helplessly as san’s jeep starts to pull away and the other two cars also follow.

“they’re finally leaving, huh.”

there’s only one person who would have amusement laced into those words. refusing to turn around in your state, you exhale shakily, “not now, johnny.”

“you honestly need better friends. everyone has a stick up their ass in that group,” he comments.

“i said not now,” you warn again, blinking the rest of your tears away when you feel anger creeping up in its stead.

“i should’ve just punched them when i had the chance to.”

you whip around to face him and yell, absolutely appalled, “johnny!”

“what?” he scowls. “they were the ones who started it.”

you grow deathly still. “started what?” you interrogate, and when he doesn’t let up, you step in closer. “johnny?”

“look, i ran into some of them the other day. that little fucker–wooyoung? he was basically asking to be punched. he’s lucky i let him off the hook,” he sneers.

you’ve known wooyoung longer than you have known johnny and you honestly find your boyfriend’s recount hard to believe. yes, wooyoung is hot-headed and rash, but he never reacts unless he has been provoked. or in other cases, his loved ones have been provoked.

“don’t you fucking dare call my friends fuckers,” you growl. is this who your boyfriend truly is? is this the person who your friends have been able to see through all this time?

“are you fucking serious right now?” johnny spits in your face, “you’re defending them? you always take their fucking side even though i’m your boyfriend.”

you spit right back, “and you know what? that was my biggest mistake. i should have never made you my boyfriend.”

johnny’s expression drops entirely. “are you breaking up with me right now?”

“yes, i am.” you confirm. “we’re over.”

you turn on your heel and for once, you are glad that he has shown up at your house, because it means you are a mere ten feet away from shutting your now-ex out of your life. you fumble with the door, vision rapidly blurring, then walk through and close it behind you. slowly, you lean back against the door. with nothing grounding you anymore, the tears escape your eyes once more and you don’t bother trying to hold back your cries.

all too fast, everything has come to a full circle of hurt. johnny turned his back on your friends, your friends turned their backs on you, and you have now turned your back on johnny. your chest shudders and heaves at the realisation, wondering where it all went wrong.

you want to seek out one of the boys for comfort– seonghwa or san– but you only end up dropping to your hands and knees, head dizzy from how hard you begin to sob, when you realise that that’s no longer an option. you all need time apart, both yourself and the boys. you know. but it’s much easier for them because they are going back to seoul together as their group of eight. they still have each other to lean on for comfort, whereas you are left behind to nurse your own wounds by yourself.

in the quiet of your house with the end of summer approaching in namhae, for the first time since meeting san, you are truly alone. it no longer feels like the nine of you against the world and whatever it may bring. instead, it’s you against the world…and the eight of them.

haneul takes all but one look at you before she’s making herself comfortable on your couch, tugging a cushion into her lap and patting the space beside her with a commanding air of authority. her expression tells you that there’s no room for argument, so you sink into the couch next to her.

the bewilderment must be obvious on your face when she asks you to spill what happened with san, because she simply reveals, “san messaged the family chat when he arrived back in seoul. and we all know he would give up surfing before voluntarily leaving namhae early.”

you slouch in on yourself, “we fought.”

as surprising as it is to hear, since she’s never seen you and san argue before, haneul had an inkling that that was the case after her little brother’s vague reasons. she probes, “about what?”

you tell her about everything. how you started dating johnny, how the boys came early for the summer and how you tried to get them on friendly terms. how your friends were constantly telling you to break up with him and how your boyfriend was always unhappy about you spending time with them. you tell her about the near-kiss with hongjoong last summer and the confrontation you had with him this summer. the argument you had with all the boys and the break up with johnny. everything.

haneul’s quiet for a while as she tries to piece together your story and her own thoughts. “did they ever tell you why they were so against you dating him?” she finally questions.

you shake your head and she asks, “then did you try talking to them about it?”

you slowly shake your head again, slightly ashamed by your own answer. you had been so focused on finding fault in the different ways the boys could have expressed their disapproval regarding your boyfriend that you didn’t think of the multiple opportunities you had to work out why those opinions existed in the first place.

“what do you think of it all, then? obviously, you would have broken up with johnny for a reason–or did the criticism from the boys just become too much?

fiddling with the hem of your shirt, you look down at your lap. “he was a decent guy…up until summer and the boys came over. that’s when he started acting differently and,” you pause, trying to find a nicer phrase before giving up and settling on, “became an asshole.”

she nods, waiting as you elaborate, “he became more overbearing and possessive, especially when i was hanging out with them when he wasn’t present. and he was just always so pissed. he was dead serious about getting into a physical fight with wooyoung. and we both know that none of the boys would ever start a fight for no reason, much less a fistfight, so johnny had to be the instigator.”

the way that you are solely picking out the faults of your ex does not go unnoticed by haneul. “y/n,” she stares at you seriously. “are you upset about your break up, or your argument with the boys?”

her question stuns you because it’s quite obviously both, but she stops your reflexive response with the instruction, “think about it before you answer me.”

you close your mouth and look at your lap again to actually process your own thoughts and feelings. what are you thinking and feeling? johnny…you had sort of known already that he would not be a constant in your life for much longer. from the moment you had started comparing him against the other boys, it was already the beginning of the end.

but san and the others? they are and have been the sun to your solar system for years; your providers of vitality, warmth and summer who you cannot live without. there’s a constant, gravitational pull that keeps you all together, except the balance has now been thrown off entirely. you realise what the answer was all along and you quietly admit, “the argument.”

she places a hand over yours, comfortingly stroking your knuckles as she sympathises, “i think so too.”

promptly, you feel your eyes pricking with the sting of tears and in a moment of fragile vulnerability, you plead to haneul in a shaky voice, “what am i going to do without them?”

“come here,” she whispers.

she pulls you into her, your body immediately going slack in her embrace. you cling onto her like a lifeline, afraid that you are going to drown in your cries of anguish. you don’t know how long you stay buried in her chest grieving for the friendships you have lost, but your neck and back are sore with stiffness by the time you calm down. still, she doesn’t let go of you– not until you make the first move to pull away.

haneul continues to stroke your hair, soft shushing noises as she rocks you back and forth with her. when your shuddering breaths have resided and steadied out, she breaks the silence softly, “y/n, i think there’s more to your heartache and regret than just feeling like you’ve lost your closest friends.”

your throat is scratchy when you mumble, “what do you mean?”

“i can’t tell you because that’s something that you’re going to have to work out for yourself. but after you figure out your own feelings, talk to them. communication is the first step to solving any problem, and i think you’ve realised just how much miscommunication could have been avoided leading up to the argument.”

you know she’s right, but your chest shrivels up on itself in fear. “what if they don’t answer my messages or calls? what if they really don’t come back next summer?” what if they hate me forever?

haneul rests her cheek on the crown of her head, “if they take a step back, then why don’t you take two steps forward?”

her words slowly sink in and when they do, you inch out of her embrace. haneul cannot help the smile that adorns her own face in tandem with the one that starts to peek out along your lips. your face is still red and blotchy but there is now a ray of emerging hope as your voice trails off, “you mean…”

“yes, y/n,” haneul nods. you feel goosebumps spreading across your body when she affirms your thoughts.

“go to seoul and talk to them.”

summer passes and autumn comes. the days grow shorter as the nights become longer and the weeks blur into a haze of monochrome darkness. the leaves and flowers fall off the trees, nature gradually stagnating and waning into nonexistence, much like the groupchat you share with the boys that has remained untouched since summer.

in a feverish state of resolution the very same day you had cried in haneul’s arms, you had booked an express bus trip that would take you directly from namhae to seoul. yet, despite telling yourself every weekend that you’ll make the trip, the ticket remains unused. whenever you see your last message to san– a meek question asking if he had arrived back in seoul fine– that continues to stay unread, your courage crumples and you reschedule the date for the following weekend.

the cycle repeats itself well into autumn. that is, until he breaks it.

you’ve spent the last few days thinking about this very moment. there are only a few minutes left until midnight, which will mark the end of jongho’s birthday. you’re unable to count the number of times you have opened his chat, typed out a message, then exited without actually sending it.

currently, the text cursor in jongho’s chat blinks back at you like your own indecisiveness wavering back and forth between messaging him and not. the minute ticks over once more– it’s now or never. you let your thumbs skim across the surface of your phone before you can contemplate any further. it’s a simple message; only reading two lines.

happy birthday jongho how have you been?

really, you mean ‘how have you all been?’ because you cannot care about one of them without also caring about the others.

you lock the screen and toss your phone to the side, pretending you don’t care whether he replies or not, as if your phone is capable of sensing anxiousness and will sabotage his incoming messages– that is, if any come at all. but jongho’s last messages to you had been the ones alerting you that he and the boys would be leaving namhae prematurely. surely an indicator that this friendship isn’t entirely lost.

the lecture slides on your laptop may as well be written in a foreign language as you restlessly eye your phone, wondering if he has seen your messages. you know it will be fruitless to continue studying, so you steel yourself for disappointment and reach for your phone. to your surprise, there’s a reply waiting for you.

thanks y/n, i’ve been good

it’s simple and only five words, but that in itself speaks volumes to your relationship. your heart skips a beat when the messages in his chat shift upwards once more as a new text comes in like an afterthought.

i miss you

really, jongho means ‘we all miss you’ because you can be angry at someone, feel hurt by them, yet still love them all the same.

his confession stuns you frozen, your fingers hovering in place over your keyboard. it fills you with longing for more and hope for what may come, but also fear for what could happen. jongho has taken a small step to meet you halfway and you are absolutely terrified of messing things up once more. with your heart pounding in your chest, you carefully type out your next message, send it and then hold your breath.

can we call?

your fingers repetitively trace the rim of your phone case back and forth as you wait for a reply. there’s a rising swell of panic that continues to grow when nothing comes and you even exit and reopen the app. what you don’t know is that jongho almost trips onto his face in his hurry to untangle his legs from out of his blanket so that he can lock himself in the bathroom to call you without waking the others.

the phone nearly falls out of your grasp when the screen suddenly lights up not with a message but a call. you let it ring for a few seconds to gather your own composure before sliding the button to nervously answer, “hello?”

“hello?” comes jongho’s reply.

your voices overlap as you both simultaneously talk, “can you hear me–” “hi–yes, can you hear me?”

“yeah, i can hear you too, hi,” you breathe out, face breaking out into a smile.

the exchange has jongho letting out a giggle and the sound immediately releases all the tension that has built up in your body. your eyes start to mist over as you let out your own bashful laughter, because it is so much more than just missing the sound of jongho’s happiness. you’re reminded of crashing waves and windswept fringes; heavy surfboards and helping hands– the summer days when everything was happier and simpler. how did everything end up the way it has?

“thank you for replying to my message, jongho,” your voice is unsteady.

he must hear the way your throat threatens to close in on itself, because his voice is warm-hearted when he tells you, “no, thank you for reaching out first.” and as much as he finds it difficult to express himself, his next words spill out easily. “sorry i didn’t do it first…it must have been hard for you all this time.”

and just like that, so comes the first of many owed apologies. it doesn’t matter that you have to be awake in five hours to make it to your first lecture, nor that you don’t have a perfected script for all the things you want to apologise for. and it doesn’t matter that jongho is starting to feel cold sitting on the bathroom floor, nor that he can’t hold you like he wants to do. what does matter is that you’re both talking again.

as the night grows older, the conversation eventually flows away from raw confessions of your hearts to familiar topics of your mundane lives. it feels like the normal phone calls you used to have with the boys, except this time it’s only with jongho.

“what about you? have you been busy?”

you nod, even though he can’t see you over the call, “i’m trying to keep up with classes but it’s hard with all the assignments due soon.”

“yeah, i have another huge film project and it’s taking up all of my time, too,” he exhales, then tentatively asks, “what about…how’re things with johnny?”

it’s strangely exciting to clarify, “we actually broke up a few months ago.”

you can hear jongho’s sharp inhale even from over the phone. the conspiratorial tone of his voice painfully reminds you of wooyoung’s nosiness as jongho asks, “please tell me you broke up with him and not the other way round.”

“yes, i broke up with him,” you chuckle. “he talked shit about you guys the moment you all left, so i dumped him.”

“he deserved it,” he gleefully states.

“only i get to mess with my friends…literally.”

the joke is at the expense of yourself, but it feels uplifting to be able to start laughing about it now that you have started making amends, even if it is only with one person so far. knowing you have somebody on your side makes all the difference in the world.

“it’s actually sort of funny you say that,” jongho muses over the phone. “remember that truth or dare question? the one about choosing between love and friendship?”

you hum in affirmation, “san and i picked love.”

“and look at you, picking us over johnny,” he teases.

huffily, you banter, “picked you guys even though you all left me.”

there’s the tinkle of laughter from over the receiver, but it’s cut short by a faint knock. you hear jongho murmuring to somebody before his voice becomes audible again, “hey, sorry, i need to go now. someone needs to use the bathroom.”

you resist the urge to ask why he’s even there in the first place, but you just tell him that it’s okay, considering how late the time is anyway.

“i’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“yeah, tomorrow,” you affirm. the wide smile on your face makes your cheeks ache as you grip the phone to your ear and wait for him to hang up. you hear the sound of rustling as he stands up and turns the doorknob, then there’s a voice in the background asking, “is that y/n?”

but before you can try to discern who the voice belongs to, the call ends. you don’t let the slight disappointment dampen your spirits though and you fall back to lie on top of your bed. jongho’s last words to you have made you feel like a giddy teenager– tomorrow feels too far away.

but his words before his last words also make you feel like a teenager. only it’s not giddiness but the uncertainty and confusion that comes with adolescence as you try to navigate and understand your own feelings about something. in the face of the situation, had you truly chosen friendship over love contrary to your own expectations?

it makes sense at first to think that’s what has happened, but you’re suddenly reminded of haneul’s words– that there is more to your heartache and regret than just feeling like you have lost your closest friends, and that you need to figure out your own feelings before talking to the boys. if you have stood by your own values and chosen love over friendship, then that means…the heartbreak that you feel is grief not for lost friendship, but loss of your first loves– because you are in love with all of them.

that spark of feelings that had remained for the boys had never become fully extinguished. when you agreed to date johnny, perhaps it was only because he had reminded you of them and you had mistaken the flutters in your stomach for romantic attraction to him. and so, left unattended, that very spark has now flourished into a wildfire that can no longer be controlled, neither can it be contained– it’s time for you to talk to them.

you pick up your phone again and send out a message, this time with no hesitation. it reads, ‘i need your help’.

and the reply is immediate.

anything you need

it’s the first day of winter when you arrive in seoul.

you get off the express bus at the terminal with both hands empty and only the bag on your back; you don’t plan on staying for long so you didn’t bring much with you. immediately, your breath fogs up in the frigid air and you nestle more snugly into the warmth of your coat. there’s a reasonable crowd of people at the terminal, so you crane your neck in search of jongho’s familiar tuft of brown hair, who had offered to pick you up knowing that this was your first time travelling up to seoul.

the last text he had sent told you that he had arrived and was waiting for you at terminal six. as you make your way closer, eyes squinting to discern whether you are seeing things correctly, you think you’re able to make out jongho’s side profile leaning against a brick wall.

except, he’s not alone. your footsteps start to falter because seonghwa is also there. ironically, he’s the one who spots you from afar. he pushes himself away from the wall and turns his body towards you as jongho questions whether he has spotted you.

ever since the night he had overheard the younger on a phone call with you, seonghwa has been aching to make things right with you again. he had been afraid that you would want nothing to do with them anymore and that you would slip away from their fingers just like that. but here you are in seoul, just a mere distance away from him.

seonghwa’s eyes start to water and your expression crumples almost immediately with his when he opens his arms with an offer of an embrace. his feet rush to close the distance when you throw yourself into his chest, the cashmere of his coat rubbing softly against your cheek.

“i’m sorry, hwa” you murmur.

“i know,” he whispers, stroking the back of your head, “me too.”

jongho silently watches with a small smile and allows you both to have your moment of reconciliation with each other. as you breathe in the comfortingly familiar scent of seonghwa’s cologne, you gesture for the other to come closer so that you can pull him into a group hug. and here, surrounded by both of them, despite there being several other things you want to say– poems of apologies and ballads of confessions– for now, this is more than enough.

seonghwa is the first to pull away suddenly as if he has been electrocuted. “hang on, are you and johnny still…” he trails off.

despite the snort of amusement that leaves you, you’re touched by his thoughtfulness to maintain respectful boundaries. “don’t worry, we broke up,” you reassure him, then you jokingly turn to jongho with an incredulous look. “you told him i was coming up to seoul, but didn’t tell him that johnny’s my ex now?”

he rolls his eyes good-naturedly, “that wasn’t in my place to reveal. plus, seonghwa was the one who looked over my shoulder and saw your text asking for my help.”

said man pretends to walk away innocently. you and jongho laugh, trailing after him towards the carpark as you ask, “what was he doing in your dorm anyway?”

“he crashed for the night. our dorm’s close to his workplace.”

when you reach their parked car, seonghwa tugs the passenger door open, but instead of hopping in he gestures for you to go first. you indulge in his chivalry with a chuckle, even more so when he places a hand along the top of the door frame in case you bump into it.

“thanks, hwa,” you say sweetly, shuffling in further when he scoots in after you and leaves jongho alone to sit at the front of the car.

“great, not even ten minutes of making up with each other and i’ve already become the third wheel,” jongho grumbles as he turns the ignition on.

despite the huffiness in his voice, jongho’s heart sings with happiness to see you and seonghwa already getting along like normal. he is willing to be the third wheel– even the ninth wheel– if it means that you and his boys can shine together every day. but for that to happen, it all rests on how the next hour unfolds.

“ready to go?” jongho asks, eyeing you from the rearview mirror.

are you? are you ready to talk to all of the boys at the same time? seonghwa gives your hand a gentle squeeze, and jongho nods at you reassuringly from the front; you’re not going into this alone anymore. you nod, “i’m ready.”

the drive takes less than thirty minutes and before you know it, you’re standing right outside the door to jongho’s shared dorm with wooyoung and hongjoong. jongho swipes and unlocks the door with his access card, however makes no move to push the door open. the fact that neither of the boys say anything to rush you spurs you on with enough determination to enter the dorm. the volume of their chatter increases immediately without the barrier of the door, and you take slow, hesitant steps along the short hallway towards the direction of the sound.

you appreciate when jongho takes the lead to subtly show you where to go but it still feels like you are intruding– which, you technically are, considering two out of three people who live here don’t know that you’re in the dorm right now. rounding the corner of the hallway, you discover that it leads straight to the living room where all of the boys currently are. so it’s fucking awkward when the sight of you emerging completely kills the conversation and a collective hush settles over the room.

you have to fight everything within you not to turn on your heel and just flee, because nothing has prepared you for their initial reaction. you hate the fact that you cannot tell whether the shocked expressions on yunho and yeosang’s faces are ones of delight or displeasure. you hate the way that wooyoung and hongjoong’s bodies tense and become guarded, ready to tell you to leave their dorm. but more than anything, you hate the way that san and mingi cannot even look at you.

“holy shit,” yunho whispers.

that’s enough to set off the others and hongjoong angrily questions, “what the fuck is she doing here?”

wooyoung looks at jongho, “is this why you told everyone to come over?”

you defend, “i was the one who asked jongho for help.”

“i wasn’t talking to you–”

you cut wooyoung off, contrary to your next words, “can you just shut the fuck up for once? i’m not here to start another fight. just–hear me out, please. i’ll leave as soon as i say what i need to.”

he glares at you and everybody holds their breath as they steel themselves for another full-blown argument. but wooyoung does as you ask and folds his arms angrily. nobody speaks, waiting for you to talk as you finally put your bag down and sit a safe distance away.

you close your eyes and take a breath to compose yourself. you refuse to let yourself cry this time. you’ve done plenty of that in the last few months and you have finally come to terms with your own feelings. “i…i’m sorry,” you start.

somebody scoffs, but you ignore it and let the words from your heart take over. “i’m sorry for being such an asshole over the summer–for letting my ex get in between us and for ignoring all the times you told me he wasn’t a good guy. i shouldn’t have assumed that you were all okay with me bringing him along whenever we hung out and i should have asked before inviting him to the campfire. that was something special for us and it was selfish of me to do that.

“in particular, i’m sorry for how that night went down. i know it doesn’t excuse what i did, but i had an argument with hongjoong earlier that day and i was feeling strung tight. i wish i had handled the situation better when i felt confronted about bringing johnny along, and i acknowledge that the words i said can’t be taken back, even if i didn’t mean them.”

nobody needs reminding of the words that you are referring to, because it has sat just as heavily in their hearts as it has your own. the sight of mingi ducking his head down even further has your heart clenching painfully.

even if he isn’t looking, you apologise to him directly, “mingi, i’m sorry we never got to finish our talk. i know that you were going through a hard time and that that trip was meant to be something healing for you–for all of you. namhae was meant to be an escape, but it probably didn’t feel that way…because of me. i mean it when i say you’ll always have a home in namhae and i hope that one day, you’ll be able to trust me on that. in fact, i hope that you all know that namhae is not the same without either one of you boys.”

you hesitate, because not even jongho knows about what you’re going to say next. you avert your gaze to focus on the carpet just in front of you so that you don’t have to see their expressions. “it’s taken this fight–almost losing all of you–and breaking up with my ex to realise just how stupid and blind i am to my own feelings. i always thought i would be happy with just being friends…but you are all so, so much more to me than just friends and ‘whoever’. i think i’m in love with all of you and i know it’s unconventional, but…i guess love has no limits.

“but i’m also going to be honest. i’m still hurt by the things some of you said or did. it hurt that some of you criticised my decisions without thinking about how that might have made me feel. and i know it wasn’t your intention to, but i felt like i was being backed into a corner multiple times when you kept repeating the same things over and over again about my ex without any real constructiveness to your words.

“i don’t expect you to apologise right now, nor accept my apology, and i don’t expect any of you to respond to my confession. i want you all to have enough time to work out your own feelings…if you want to. if you find it in your heart to forgive me and if you want to apologise, pursue friendship again or…maybe something more, then come to namhae and tell me in person.”

there’s half a year left until summer, and as much as things can change in six months, you also hope that this gives you and the boys time to work out what you all truly want from one another– be it friendship or love. nobody moves or says anything, trying to process everything you have said so you decide to leave them to it, having done your part. you make a move to stand and sling your bag onto your back.

“you’re leaving already? where are you going?” yeosang abruptly asks, standing as well.

“back to namhae,” you explain. “i booked a return ticket for the same day.”

san frowns and for the first time since you arrived, he looks at you. “you came all the way here…just to talk to us for half an hour?”

you give him a bittersweet smile, “that’s how important this is to me–how important you all are to me.”

he looks away, unable to hold your gaze. you turn to jongho to ask if he is still happy to drop you back off at the terminal, who nods and begins to pull on his puffer jacket.

“wait,” yeosang calls out. he skitters off down the corridor, socked feet pattering against the floor as he grabs something from his bedroom and hurries back in front of you. “here.”

he has a thick scarf that he holds out for you to take, but as you start to reach for it, he changes his mind. you hold your breath as yeosang carefully reaches over your head to drape the scarf around you. with tender hands, he wraps it around your neck before securing it with a knot. he continues to fiddle with the ends of the scarf and you’re starting to wonder why he is hesitating when he looks at you shyly and mumbles something under his breath. before you can make a noise of confusion, he darts off once again back into his room. seonghwa cannot help but smile fondly, because even if he is unable to hear what the other said either, he knows what yeosang means purely by his actions.

you’re accompanied out of the door by jongho minutes later, carrying a plastic bag of snacks and drinks from their dorm that seonghwa has rushed to put together for you to have on your way back. when you’re in the car, you also find a pair of black gloves in the pocket of your coat. you have no idea who put it there, but the sentiment of one of the boys trying to ensure you are not cold is enough to fill your entire body with warmth.

you may have arrived in seoul with both hands empty and only the bag on your back, but you leave seoul with their quiet acts of apologies and forgiveness on your hands, neck, and in the plastic bag sitting on your lap as your bus pulls away back to namhae.

a lot can change in six months, but a lot can also stay the same. it all balances on the peak of the fulcrum, waiting to teeter either way as summer arrives.

you’ve kept in touch with jongho and seonghwa, so you haven’t been left in the dark anxiously wondering whether they will be returning to namhae or not. but even with their arrival, the uncertainty remains as to which way the scale has– or will tip.

so you don’t walk out to greet them when you hear the resounding slam of shutting doors and the low hum of exchanged conversation, because you don't know whether the other boys want to see you or not. plus, there’s something embarrassing about seeing them for the first time after apologising, much less confessing to them without any certainty as to their feelings, and much much less to eight people at once. you’re doing a pretty good job at hiding and pretending you are completely oblivious to their arrival in namhae.

that is, until mingi knocks on your door. mingi feels like he’s fourteen again, knocking on yunho’s door and crossing his fingers hoping to god that it’s his friend who opens it and not his parents, because mingi feels embarrassed asking them every day if yunho can come out to play. this time, though, mingi’s nervous because it’s you and he’s nervous because six months is a long time where feelings can change. he hopes that yours are still the same.

you’re greeted by a shock of platinum white hair when you open your door and you realise it’s mingi with freshly bleached hair. it looks good– a little too good– and you have to force yourself to peel your eyes away. except your eyes travel down involuntarily to the contrasting black of his tank top, which is at least two sizes too large and dips down dangerously to reveal the shadows of his chest. you’re down bad, and it’s only been ten seconds since you’ve laid eyes on him since seoul.

mingi is looking at you amusedly when you finally lock eyes with him and he seems to stand a little straighter with confidence. he beckons with a gentle tilt of his head, “come surf with us?”

the casualness of his invite throws you off and you wonder if you’ve somehow missed the memo that he’s forgiven you. “you’re all okay with me coming?” you blink confusedly.

“the others can speak for themselves,” he puts it plainly, but then smiles, “i want you to come, though. it’s not the same without you. plus,” his voice mellows out earnestly, “someone’s gotta welcome me home, don’t you think?”

home. home is where the heart is, and for mingi, regardless of the arguments and fights, his heart will always be with the boys and you. because in anger, hurt and love, there is always forgiveness, and mingi has forgiven you.

shyly, you return his smile, “i’ll go get changed, then?”

“is that an invite inside?” mingi leans against the doorframe with faux coyness that manages to make the rounds of your cheeks heat up. you shove him back lightly with a laugh, trying to ignore the firmness of his chest under your touch.

he grins boyishly, utterly pleased with himself, but steps back so you can close the door. “take your time,” he reassures. “i’ll wait for you.”

and he does, just so that you don’t have to walk alone to join the rest of the group. even after you have thrown on a swimsuit and slathered yourself with sunscreen as best as you can, mingi is still outside and yunho has also joined him– you know because you can hear them talking as you search for your house keys in the hallway.

“what if it’s too late?” yunho asks.

“you don’t know that, not until you try,” mingi replies. “here, a kiss for good luck.”

you have no idea what the context for this conversation is, but it suddenly strikes you that apart from mingi, you’ve never discussed sexual orientation with the boys. you may have asked them to consider you romantically, but you can’t say for sure if they even like girls. from what you know, none of them have dated before, and now you’re suddenly wondering whether any of the boys are dating within the group. mingi and yunho are certainly a possibility.

but regardless, you realise this is probably not something you should be discovering by overhearing a conversation, so you deliberately drop your keys to alert them of your presence and wait a couple more seconds before you open your front door.

for the second time of the day, you’re absolutely floored. yunho has dyed his hair an ash grey and it falls over his forehead and down the nape of his neck in messy locks. there must have been a fucking enticing buy-one-get-one-free deal, because he’s also wearing a black tank top much like mingi’s, except his is form-fitting and putting every damned muscle of his upper body on glorified display.

not that you’re complaining. but it’s also very distracting when you’re trying to focus on what mingi is saying as you all make your way down the beach towards the shore, their surfboards hiked against their hips.

“you guys go ahead, i think jongho’s calling for me,” mingi suddenly announces before darting off.

you’re left alone with yunho, and from the back of jongho’s head who most definitely doesn’t even know you three have joined the group, mingi’s plan to slip away has succeeded.

“um,” yunho hesitantly starts, “do you want to try paddling out on my board? i’ll stay close.”

the last time you had attempted anything on his shortboard, you had flipped over and swallowed several mouthfuls of salt water. although you’re not particularly keen on repeating the experience, some things don’t need to be spelt out– the reason for his offer. only one foot is needed to push a bicycle into motion, but two feet are needed to keep it in motion. so you nod and let him drag his surfboard towards the shallow waters for you.

as you trail beside him, seonghwa and jongho greet you enthusiastically on their own boards out in the horizon. yeosang waves too from further down the shore and you lose some of the tension in your shoulders when you know that the intention behind his scarf was not misinterpreted. only san and wooyoung do not directly acknowledge your presence, but unbeknownst to you, the younger is carefully observing your interactions with the others.

“here,” yunho says, garnering your attention.

he holds the surfboard steady in the water, waiting for you to lie on top. his hands stay even after you gingerly shift and balance your weight onto your front. with his guidance, you slowly paddle out past the rush of whitewater waves. yunho is barely waist-deep in the water so he easily manoeuvres you and the board as you try to recall the familiar motion of paddling against incoming swells. but both of you know that you’re not really trying to paddle and he’s not really watching for mistakes.

eventually, you languidly let the waters caress your body as you still, letting the slight waves gently rock your surfboard. one of yunho’s arms have shifted over your back to support the opposite side of the surfboard and your body tingles whenever his forearm brushes over you. his other hand rests near your own, your fingers grazing together whenever the board dances over a swell.

it is within the serenity and solitude of the ocean, and the warmth and proximity of each other’s presence that the conversation happens. yunho apologises and you forgive. it occurs as simply as that, because actions speak louder than words and you have already shared a library of novels with your bodies.

from afar, wooyoung’s internal debate continues to teeter on its fulcrum as he watches the moment you share with yunho. wooyoung may be fast to talk, but he is also keen to observe. he sees the glow of relief and happiness returning to the faces of the boys. what he said to you summers ago still stands true– you make the boys happy and it’s obvious they make you happy too. and all wooyoung has ever wanted is to protect the smile of his loved ones, including you.

the radiance of the smile you give when yunho pretends to flip your surfboard over reminds wooyoung of his failure to do just that. in his blindness for the others, he had sacrificed your smile. the scale teeters over the fulcrum and he follows the momentum of his heart to wade out into the waters where you two still are, his apology ready to spill out.

and so you discover that a lot can change in six months, but a lot can also change in one day. with each relationship that stitches back together, rips now reinforced and sturdier than before, namhae almost feels the same again– summer almost feels the same again. you may still have the two hardest conversations left to be resolved, but if more time is what they need, then you are willing to wait for san and–

yunho and wooyoung scramble to steady your surfboard before you actually tip over when you suddenly move to kneel, head whipping around to confirm your fears. you hadn’t initially noticed as the boys had been scattered, intermittently ducking back into the house, but your heart sinks as you count the number of heads again. you’re unable to fight off the dread in your voice when you dare to ask, “where’s hongjoong?”

yunho’s eyes don’t meet yours and wooyoung’s mouth thins out tightly before he cautiously answers you, “he didn’t come.”

san likes to think that he’s patient. ever since he was young, his father had made sure to raise him to wait. wait for elders to eat before picking up his own chopsticks; wait for others to walk through the door before he enters; wait for others to choose their preference before he picks his. and san likes to think that he has diligently applied this principle to his relationships too. wait to understand someone before criticising; wait for his own anger to subside before talking; wait to reflect on his own wrongs before expecting an apology.

but right now, san is impatient. he catches glimpses of the sweet messages you send jongho and seonghwa and the joyous cackles you share with wooyoung when you prank yeosang. he notices the way yunho and mingi are attached to your hips, and san wants all of that and more. he wants to tell you he’s forgiven you and that he’s sorry too; he wants to cup your cheeks and thumb away the phantom tears he caused; he wants to love you.

but his body is acting as if it’s an entirely separate entity from his heart. he’s unable to approach you, even as he watches everyone else do what he wants to and it frustrates him to no end. and it’s as if the gods themselves also became impatient with his pathetic attempts– or lack thereof– because they drop the perfect opportunity right in front of him.

a quick look at his phone tells san that he’s been tossing on the couch for the last two hours. sleep fails to take over, so he hauls himself up and pads softly towards the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. he stares out of the window above the sink, where he can just see the stretch of beach towards the right. the moon shines brightly tonight and the rays decorate the sand and sea foam with dreamy tranquillity.

there’s a quiet rustle above the stillness of the night. when san turns around, his heart immediately clenches at the sight. you’re sleepily rubbing the bleariness out of your eye as you shuffle your way into the kitchen. there’s a stray tuft of hair that san wants to reach out and smooth down for you, but he opts to grip his glass of water tighter.

you startle, not having expected someone to be awake and most definitely not san. you had stayed over late into the night watching a movie marathon with the boys, and despite your protests, they had convinced you to crash in haneul’s room. tension doesn’t exist between you and the boys anymore, only awkwardness with san and…avoidance with hongjoong.

“couldn’t sleep?” you murmur, voice unguarded and still thick with sleep.

san shakes his head, “you?”

“got thirsty,” you explain, grabbing a glass from under the counter.

he hums at your answer and then it grows silent again. it’s only after you drowsily blink at him that he realises why you’re not making a move to get water– he’s still standing in front of the sink. san starts to step out of the way but thinks better of it. reaching out to grab your glass, he fills it up with water and then returns it to you.

“thanks, sannie.”

it doesn’t register in your head that the nickname has slipped out. for him, though, it echoes and ricochets in the very caverns of his ribcage. hesitantly, he mutters, “you’re welcome, pipsqueak.”

it tugs a smile out of your lips. “haven’t heard that in a while,” you muse. “kind of miss it.”

and i miss you. san is impatient, and he finally decides that he cannot take it anymore. “i’m sorry, y/n,” he whispers. “i know how badly i hurt you.”

the haze in your eyes immediately fades away at his words and he takes it as a good sign to continue. “i’ll be honest. i hated that the person next to you as your boyfriend wasn’t one of us–wasn’t me, because it didn’t look like he was making you happy at all. and that day you were out working in the field? some of us actually ran into johnny.”

you acknowledge sadly, “seonghwa told me what happened. i’m sorry he was like that.”

“that’s not on you to apologise,” san refutes. “i was the one who asked the boys to keep it from you until we could properly talk after the campfire night, but along with everything that had led up to that point, all my frustrations accumulated without even realising it.”

“i guess that makes the two of us, then. there were arguments you and i both weren’t aware of, and we ended up being the last straw for each other,” you chuckle wryly.

his voice wavers, “i’m meant to be the one person who is always there for you, but i made it feel like you were pitted against the eight of us instead and i’m so sorry for doing that. it should never have been me against you, nor us boys against you. it should have been all nine of us against the problem.”

you can’t help but take the opportunity to tease lightly, “are you calling my ex the problem?”

“exactly that,” he deadpans. “we all did.”

you nod, “thank you for trying to let me know, even when i didn’t listen.”

“no, i’m sorry we didn’t explain ourselves more clearly–or earlier.”

“but you have now, and i understand,” you reassure.

he nods gratefully before hesitating, “there’s something else behind all this that i can’t tell you yet, not without the others here. but when things are…okay with hongjoong again, that’s when we’ll tell you.”

something about his promise tells you that it has to do with the other part of the conversation everyone has been skirting around so far– your confession. faint memories of the interactions observed between the boys last summer and the brief exchange you overheard between yunho and mingi flicker across your mind.

perhaps you should steel yourself for rejection. you don’t dwell on it, though. this may have been the first time your friendship with san had been so close to shattering, but you know that it will take more than the entire universe to completely break you apart; you still trust him– because before it was the nine of you, it was you and san against the world.

“then are we okay now?” you ask, needing the confirmation.

“yeah,” he smiles breathlessly, “more than okay.”

the caverns of san’s dimples– the ones you love so much– shyly peek out to greet you in the faint glow of the moonlight coming in from the window. he reaches out silently and you understand immediately. you intertwine your fingers together.

san wants to ask you to go to bed with him. not to do anything sexual, but to simply hold you against his chest; trace the curve of your nose; wake up to your sleepy smile in the morning. but he can’t, not yet. not until you’ve worked things out with hongjoong, and not until you’ve had a talk together– all nine of you.

he settles for tugging you in the direction of haneul’s bedroom, hand never letting go of yours as he softly ushers, “let me tuck you back into bed.”

and so fifteen years after your first day of summer in namhae, you find that summer still takes the form of a sweet, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands.

your instinctive reaction is to shut the door in hongjoong’s face.

when seonghwa had texted you asking you to open your front door, you had been expecting said man for obvious reasons. so when you pull the door open and see kim fucking hongjoong at your doorstep in fucking namhae instead, of course you slam the door shut. because why the fuck is he here?

“oh shit,” you curse, when it registers in your brain.

hongjoong is here and you’ve just shut the door in his face. if you had even an ounce of collectedness in you, you would realise that the boys’ initial and very much candid reaction of shock to seeing you randomly show up at their dorm in seoul is suddenly very relatable. you yank the door open again.

“sure, why don’t you just go ahead and punch me in the fucking face too,” hongjoong scowls.

immediately, you furrow your eyebrows, “well, if you’re offering…”

“oh, fuck off,” he raises his middle finger at you.

you raise both middle fingers in retaliation, “yeah, back into my house that you’re standing in front of.”

“for god’s sake–kim hongjoong!” seonghwa hisses in exasperation, head poking out of san’s door as he eavesdrops to make sure this exact thing doesn’t happen. “you’re here to apologise!”

hongjoong appears rightfully berated, then he looks at anything but you as he huffs, “can i come in?”

“depends,” you cross your arms defiantly. “are you going to try and kick me out?”

despite the prickliness of the conversation, it almost feels right in a sense. as if there’s no real heat behind your words and you two are back to the easy banter you used to have– before your near-kiss with him. this time, though, seonghwa hisses your name in frustration.

“geez! okay!” you fluster as you step back and open the door wider, letting hongjoong in and away from the prying ears of the older.

you sit tentatively on your couch and he mirrors you, scratching the back of his neck as he perches himself on the edge. it’s awkward and tense when it becomes apparent to the both of you that you’re alone. “i didn’t think you would come,” you break the silence.

he hums softly, “me neither.”

you don’t know how to respond so you don’t, allowing the quiet to settle over your living room once more. eventually, hongjong opens his mouth quietly, “i was–am ashamed of myself.”

you’ve been there before– on the other side of the conversation as the one doing the apologising. you know how difficult it is to be honest about your own emotions, particularly the negative ones, so you wait patiently for him to find the right words.

“i’ve been ashamed ever since the night i tried to kiss you. i was a coward and i did nothing to change it. i only ended up hurting you and i’ve regretted it every single day. i think about why i didn’t talk to you afterwards, why i said those things about you and your ex…why i didn’t just kiss you.”

you can’t help but inhale sharply at his confession, because that can only mean one thing.

hongjoong gathers the courage to look at you as he admits, “i did like you. i still do. but i was an idiot and thought that i was doing the best thing for everybody. i shouldn’t have made that choice for you nor tried to have a say in your love life. i was jealous and i know now how toxic i was being, which is why i was so stubborn about not coming to namhae because i didn’t think my apology would be good enough. so i’m sorry for all the things i said and did, but i’m also sorry that it took me this long to talk to you.”

he looks so uncharacteristically unsure of himself as he timidly asks, “will you forgive me?”

there’s not a moment of hesitation before you’re closing the gap between the two of you on the couch so that you can wrap your arms around him. and in a rare display of vulnerability, he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. you comfort, “i forgive you. there are a lot of things i’m ashamed of doing too. but we all make mistakes and that’s what helps us to grow.”

“you still like me?” he mumbles into your neck.

you laugh at the ticklish feeling, “very much so, hongjoong.” because in forgiveness there is love, and you have years of owed love to show the boys.

only when your sides become cramped and your necks become stiff do you finally pull away from each other. as you make eye contact with him though, you’re suddenly reminded of his confession. you know that you will need to have another talk with hongjoong about it, and you still don’t know where the other boys stand in terms of pursuing something romantic with you, but that will be for later. right now, you are content and at peace– the nine of you against the world once more.

“let’s go find the rest of the boys?” you ask.

he grins, holding a hand out to pull you up with him as he answers, “let’s go.”

just as hongjoong puts on his shoes by the doorway, he distractedly questions, “why are these here?”

you frown and follow his line of sight, settling on the top of the cabinet in your hallway where a pair of gloves sit– the ones you had discovered in your coat on your way back to namhae. “you know who they belong to?”

“yeah,” he nods, absentmindedly touching them before walking out the door. “i bought them last year, but they were too big so i gave them to san.”

it was san who hid them in your coat.

you numbly follow his steps outside where the boys have gathered in waiting and are sitting side by side on the embankment, facing the ocean. they are simply living in the moment, basking in the golden rays of sunlight and the warm touch of the person by their side– an arm around a waist; a head on a shoulder. you almost don’t want to disturb them, but you know the seven of them are not complete. not without hongjoong, and not without you.

and as your gaze meets san who smiles at the both of you, his chest swelling with relief, pride and love, you realise that san had bared his heart out to you long before you even knew.

once you fall back into routine with them, it starts to become obvious. the way the boys naturally gravitate towards one another with doting gazes and lingering touches; the casual use of a pet name or flirtatious joke; the shifts in dynamic you had noticed before that seem to extend beyond friendship. it starts to make sense when you realise that that’s exactly the reason– no longer are their relationships purely based on platonic love, but romantic love.

it’s why yunho knocks his forehead against mingi’s just to see him smile, and why san pretends to grumble when wooyoung kisses his cheeks, only to give the younger a proper kiss mere seconds later. it’s why jongho never lets yeosang carry his own surfboard even if he’s just as strong, and it’s why seonghwa and hongjoong like to disappear into the shower together.

but the longer you mull over these interactions for, the more you realise that they don’t seem to be simply ‘paired off’. you notice how jongho refuses to be cuddled but will nestle against seonghwa when he’s tired, and how yunho and yeosang seek out each other’s company before bedtime. you notice how wooyoung squeezes hongjoong’s ass underwater to make him yelp, and how san and mingi are content to just sit together on their surfboards on the sand.

rather than a question of who is with who, it becomes a question of who isn’t with who, and this time, you also find yourself mixed into the equation. but it confuses you whenever they treat you the same and you find yourself holding back despite your feelings, because it’s much harder to tell what kind of love they’re giving you when you yourself yearn for the intimate type.

san notices the change in your demeanour, as small as it may be, and decides it’s time for the talk. so here the nine of you sit on the beach that stretches in front of your houses. the sand is still warm from the sun even as it starts to dip towards the horizon of the sea. yeosang’s jacket lays over your bare legs and a slight breeze tugs delicately at your clothes.

“okay, so who’s telling her?” yunho elbows wooyoung as soon as the words leave the latter’s lips.

“what? how else are we meant to start the conversation?” wooyoung complains before mocking, “the reason i have gathered you all here today–”

rolling your eyes, you cut to the chase, “are you all dating each other?”

wooyoung chokes on his own words and everybody else looks at you with wide eyes.

“how’d you know?” yeosang startles.

seonghwa agrees, “i didn’t think we were that obvious,” but when you simply raise an eyebrow in response, he’s quick to amend, “okay, maybe we were.”

san eyes the others to see if anyone wants to step in and lead the conversation, but when nobody does, he speaks up to explain, “we’ve been dating each other for just over a year now–so before last summer. it took a bit of time to work everything out, establish boundaries and communicate what we wanted from one another, but we’re happy like this.”

“once our relationship had settled down a little, that’s when i came out to my parents,” mingi adds, “which didn’t go down well. we wanted to tell you last summer too, but…other things happened and it all fell through before we could talk about it.”

yeosang meekly scratches the back of his neck as he says, “it’s long overdue, but we’re telling you now.”

the chuckle that comes out of you is light and carefree. “i’m happy for you guys,” you affirm sincerely. “i don’t think there’s anybody else who is more perfect for you guys than each other.”

you truly do. you’re thankful that they have one another and you finally understand how hard it must’ve been for san during your argument to pick a side. his boys were and are his priority and you cannot fault him for putting them first. but then you’re reminded of hongjoong and his confession. are the others aware of his feelings?

said man has the audacity to frown at you in confusion. “why does it sound like you’re just wishing us well?”

“am i not allowed to do that as your friend?” you mirror his expression.

“god,” hongjoong exhales. “do you think we’re telling you this just to reject you?”

“of all people to say that–rub it in my face, why don’t you,” you grumble.

he starts to grasp the situation as he looks at the rest of the boys, “wait, did nobody fucking confess to her apart from me?”

the explosion of responses to his question is immediate.

“you confessed–” “–i thought we agreed to confess together–” “–trust you to cut in line! that’s not fair!”

your eyes dart wildly from side to side, unsure of who to focus on as they all start to passionately talk over one another. at one point, someone tries to chuck a handful of sand in hongjoong’s direction, but it scatters innocuously before it can even get close.

“hold the fuck up,” you yell over the commotion. “confess what?”

“how did you figure out that we’re in a polyamorous relationship but not that the feelings extend to you as well?” yeosang judges you.

“i didn’t want to project my own feelings and misconstrue anything. plus, none of you have actually mentioned liking or dating girls before, so i just…”

“assumed we didn’t have feelings for you,” seonghwa concludes as you laugh awkwardly.

wooyoung deadpans, “we may have wanted to punch your ex in the face for his shitty-ass personality because we were your friends, but we were also jealous as fuck.”

“all of you?” you ask in disbelief.

“all of us. some of us were just better at hiding it,” mingi looks pointedly at the boy sitting on his left.

“you’re one to talk about hiding your feelings,” hongjoong counters before turning to you to expose, “mingi wouldn’t shut up about you after he met you.”

mingi immediately shoves him backwards into the sand.

“look,” jongho cuts in, “what we’re trying to say is that we’ve all liked you for a while now, and if you still feel the same way about us, then we’d like to take our relationship with you to the next step.”

how many times have you wanted this moment– for all of them to return your confession. but now that it’s actually becoming a reality, it’s honestly a little daunting. “you’re all serious about this?”

a lot will change over the next year. most of you will join hongjoong and seonghwa as postgraduates and start full-time work. san will move back to namhae, but whether the others will follow or stay in seoul is unknown. there are a lot of uncertainties regarding the future and the relationship will only work if everyone is serious about making it work.

yunho answers on everyone’s behalf, “we’re very serious.”

you take a moment to look at all of them one by one, only to find the same promise within their gazes– that even if things become difficult, they want to face it with you by their side.

it feels right when san is the one to officially ask the question, “y/n, will you be our girlfriend?”

like san once said, it’s hard to find friends you love, but it’s even harder to find a friend you fall in love with, and you’ve been blessed with not only one, but eight of these people. between friendship and love, you already know from experience what you will decide– so you make your choice.

“i forgot, are hongjoong and wooyoung coming down this weekend?” san pokes his head in through the doorway.

you eye him from the mirror, face void of expression to reply, “don’t count on it.”

san’s pout is immediate and you laugh, shuffling over to console your boyfriend from where you had been getting ready in your shared bathroom. he grumbles, “you’re never going to let me hear the end of that, are you?” but he can’t hide the way his lips pull upwards the moment you press a chaste kiss against his cheek in apology.

“hongjoong said that there were a couple of delays with filming, so he and wooyoung can’t step away just yet. but they’ll come back next saturday if they can wrap things up by then.”

as you talk, san takes the halter straps out of your grasp so that he can help secure your top around your neck. “it’s so hard to align everyone’s schedules together. i miss the long holiday breaks we got in college,” you absently complain, body relaxing under the ministrations of san’s hands as he gently squeezes the nape of your neck.

“me too, love,” another voice joins the conversation. seonghwa walks up to tenderly ruffle san’s hair and nuzzles your temple with his nose. “but we have to work hard to pay off this house and to spoil you with whatever you want.”

seonghwa has grown out his hair and has kept it long since, and you love running your fingers through his silken waves before he goes to work every morning. he always looks so soft and cosy with his round glasses and fluffy sweaters that you know his school kids adore just as much as you do. but right now, his face bare of makeup and hair pulled back into a messy updo, wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts to show off his upper build, he looks the complete opposite of what you’re used to seeing and you feel your stomach doing flips in response.

you lean into both of their touches as you giggle, “we could have bought a smaller house. nobody sleeps in their own bedroom anyway.”

“well can you really blame us for being madly in love,” seonghwa grins, stealing a kiss from you that only serves to elicit more giggling.

“that’s true. your beds are always warmer than mine,” you agree.

“exactly. now come on, are you ready to go?”

the three of you walk downstairs to the living room, where the rest of the boys are waiting around in various mismatches of shirts, tank tops or only shorts. after two weeks of attempting to keep everybody’s clothes separate once you’d all moved in together, they had simply given up and made their wardrobes communal.

as you drop a spare bottle of sunscreen into your tote bag, a pair of arms snake themselves around your waist. you turn around, sweet smile ready to greet whoever it is. your jaw drops, “wooyoung?”

his eyes sparkle with mischief, even more so when your eyes grow even wider at the sight of hongjoong perched on the edge of the couch in the background and you exclaim, “hongjoong? i thought you two weren’t coming until next week?”

wooyoung takes the opportunity of your dazed compliance to pull you into a bone-crushing hug. “we caught up with the schedule,” he exclaims happily. “you should’ve seen hongjoong though. director kim made sure to work us hard.”

you playfully wriggle yourself out of the vice-like hug you’re in to bound over to the older, who automatically opens his arms to welcome you. you slot easily between his legs and his hands rub the sides of your back fondly as he looks up to ask, “did you miss me?”

forgoing an answer, you lean down to kiss him. wooyoung immediately complains, “why didn’t i get a kiss?” so san pulls him in for one to appease him. you’d never be able to leave the house otherwise, because then everyone would start demanding your kisses. and considering that it has been a few long months since you last had quality time with all eight of them at the same time, there would be too many wanted kisses to count.

one thing you had all agreed on prior to buying a house in namhae was to ensure it had a beach front, just like your and san’s old home. so it doesn’t take long to carry your surfboards– save for you; the boys like it when you use theirs– and towels down to the shore.

you close your eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of salt and subtle feeling of ocean spray on your skin. it’s a bittersweet emotion, knowing that it’s already the last day of summer, but only today have the nine of you been able to align your schedules this year. it makes you appreciate these fleeting moments of rest though, and you learn to find rest in each other too.

some of the boys start slipping off their tops, dropping them onto the sand to keep them dry as they surf. you’ve found that the greatest perk of dating them is that you’re allowed to openly and unashamedly ogle at them. the rigid shadows of their muscles reveal the discipline and hard work they put into maintaining their bodies despite their busy jobs.

san had also been monitoring his protein intake leading up to his recent dance showcase, so it’s very hard to look at the expanse of his broad chest and prominent dip of abs down his hips without feeling a rush of heat in your lower stomach. if the boys know that you offer to help them reapply sunscreen just to get a little handsy with them, then nobody says anything. (they offer to help you reapply your sunscreen as well.)

you’re content to just lie down on your towel and watch the boys, yeosang in his usual place by your side as he presses lazy kisses to your shoulder and traces the names of his lovers onto the skin of your stomach. mingi starts dragging his surfboard into the water, but when wooyoung attempts to push him in instead– and fails miserably– all thoughts of surfing are quickly forgotten. it becomes an absolute shitshow when hongjoong gets mistaken for the culprit and mingi picks him up. 

“it wasn’t me!” the older shrieks, but mingi has no ears for reasoning and prepares to drop him into the water. unwilling to go down by himself, hongjoong grips mingi’s neck at the last second and successfully drags him underwater with his weight. as wooyoung runs away absolutely delighted by the outcome, his trajectory unfortunately runs into jongho, who cuts off his cackles with a giggle, a simple shove sideways and a resultant splash.

not even bystanders can catch a break, and seonghwa screams for mercy as san and yunho suddenly grab his arms and legs. they sway him from side to side before letting him go with the momentum of the last swing to fling him into the ocean. everyone erupts into a united clamour of glee at the dunking of the eldest and you find yourself shaking your head at their unchanging antics.

you don’t think you can ever get tired of watching their radiant smiles of happiness and shared touches of sun-kissed skin, nor can you ever get tired of hearing their tinkling chimes of laughter and rowdy shouts of mischief. you may all grow older and there may not be as much time or luxury to simply bask in the joys of summer any longer; these golden hours that you are living in right now may forever remain as your sole memories when you reflect back on the essence of your youth.

on this day– the last day of summer in namhae– you find that summer takes the form of shared ice cream with sticky kisses, long showers with warm touches, and hushed pillow talk with synchronous heartbeats. but it doesn’t matter to you, not anymore.

the seasons will change and the years will pass, but so long as you are with your boys, every day will be summer.