#but anyway my dad would always search out the chocolate old fashioned because he is a Man of Taste and he would share it with me

[bakedbakermom]

do you know how many years it's been since i had my favorite donut NO ONE makes a chocolate old fashioned anymore

[lemonietrinket]

played salty, playing sweet ||| seonghwa x reader

summary: you and seonghwa have a frenemies relationship—you’re friends, but boy do you bicker 24/7. one day though, seonghwa takes it a step too far. genre: angst! fluff at the end bc happy endings! warning(s): foul language at someone (2x f**k, 2x a**hole), a remark that makes fun of someone’s intelligence word count: 2390 an: sorry this is a bit late anon! i hope it was worth the wait though, i didn’t want to give you something that wasn’t quite good enough, so i figured an extra day wouldn’t hurt too much in the long term

~~~

“well at least i didn’t fail one of the easiest exams in the year.”

seonghwa had said it with a humorous glint in his eye. he’d turned away from you, watching the world outside go by aimlessly, all because he couldn’t handle looking at you too long, lest his heart fall out of his chest. you’d already caught him blushing once. it had been while eating ice cream in the park with hongjoong, when he’d spontaneously decided to tag along. as the drizzle rolled back yet left the odd heat behind, you’d made a mad dash for the truck, longing to do what you hadn’t done in so long. once the chocolate was in your hands, you had dived in while not paying attention, eyes fluttering off to the side to listen to hongjoong (seonghwa couldn’t remember what it was about, no doubt the exaggerated hundredth challenge eden had made him do back in predebut) and ended up with a dollop on your nose. the guffaw that fell from your lips was adorable, as you cackling, “what an idiot!” all while seonghwa stood, mesmerised by your happiness. he wished he could make it happen more often, and yet all that he could ever say was teasing remarks, which only ever worked on the odd occasion. 

trapped in his memory, the corners of his lips, that had risen to the point he was very nearly laughing all over, again didn’t twitch as his head whipped round at the slam of a door. 

eyes wary, seemingly aware of the wave of chaos that was about to crash upon the dorms, he looked to where you had been, and then nervously about the rest of the living room.

“y/n?”

there was no sign of you. all that his eyes met was the disappointed glare of his bandmate, slouched and curled so small on the sofa he was entirely easy to miss.

“you gone fucked up, hwa,” hongjoong announced simply to him.

“what...?” he stared at him, elfin eyes wide watching him closely. all while he himself was still lagging behind. “wait what—”

“you should go after them.”

his face fell into stony fear as the dread sank into the pit of his stomach, as heavy as lead. the jigsaw pieces began to slowly fit together. “go after...? but, they...”

he looked back to the empty archway where your beautiful figure had been just seconds prior, a baggy clashing jumper pulled over mustard sleeves and a black denim pinafore. it wasn’t your favourite outfit, he knew that, but he had to admit it was one of his.  not that he’d ever gotten close to admitting a sliver of those thoughts to you. he’d never even harmlessly complimented you on it. or anything you wore, for that matter. 

“let me put it this way hwa. if you don’t go and treat my best friend right for once i will make you.”

he knew that the leader was pulling his stern-dad-face that wasn’t convincing nor terrifying in the slightest, but seonghwa didn’t care. he was too busy cursing and leaping to his feet. he didn’t even bid him goodbye as he tore past. 

᠃ ⚘��� ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃

you sat hunched on the park bench, wrung iron icy at your back while the sun seemed desperate to vex you, piercing through a convenient gap in the clouds and straight into your eyes.

with shudders heaving through your body your fist remained tight at your mouth. the faint hisses of your frantically silenced cries were growing louder and stronger, and yet the woman strolling with a push chair down the path nearby still did not retrieve her child from the old-fashioned pavilion. 

you shook your head slowly as you curled over, your forehead meeting your knees in a desperate attempt to keep quiet. the last thing you needed was a genuinely concerned stranger--their kindness would have you all-out balling like a child in an instant.

still, it would all come out at some point, in one form of another, and despite your wishes you didn’t get to dictate when. 

“why would you say that, why would you say that, why would you say that,” you wailed in a whisper to yourself, the face of the man who had spoken engraved in your mind beyond erasure. maybe it was the place you were in that made it so strong, since this had been the place where you had eaten ice cream during the summer. despite all of your doubts and worries and constant analysis of the words he teased you with, there was no other explanation to the smile he had that day. there was no teasing in the way he grinned, nor was there anything less than sheer tenderness within it, and it was the one thing that held you tethered to whether you could be more than just the bantering friends you clearly already were. on the other hand, maybe it was just your lovesick state, exaggerating the tiny inflections of incessantly replayed memories, as the latest thing he’d said surely would cancel all that sweetness out. 

a whimper released from your throat and you very nearly fell over the knife edge when your name was called over the late october air. 

your head flew up before you could stop it, gaze bleary and encrusted with tears as the voice you heard lifted your spirits, only to let them plummet again like a rollercoaster. 

he was running across the grass towards you, no coat to cover his arms, dark locks blustered about his face by the wind, before his feet were pounding the paving, coming to a slow and then a stop. 

“y/n, i—”

as soon as he was stood before you, catching his breath with blushed cheeks and his onyx eyes searching yours, all those cries that you had blockaded within you burst through. 

“you fucking asshole!” you screamed, words choked with sobs as you lurched to your feet. “you asshole! why the hell would you even go there?!” 

seonghwa looked more winded than you did, heart crushed at what he’d done to you. 

“do you forget i have feelings or something?!” you cried. your nails dug into your palms, the adrenaline pumping through your body beginning to shoot only up to your head. “do you know how hard i worked to study for that... that stupid... paper, i—”

it felt like all the blood in your body was trapped inside your skull at that moment. the realisation of rest of the world around you hit square in your gut, and your words gave way much like your feet did, leaving you to collapsed back onto the bench, your voice only giving sound to quiet sobs. 

for a minute, he stood at the other side of the path in silence, guilt eating him up as he looked at the consequences of his cowardice.  hongjoong’s words echoed in his head, as he despaired. there’s no way she’ll like you back now, he thought. taking a deep breath however, he made his way cautiously over to you, one step at a time. it was his fault, and it was time to take responsibility. he could still fix this situation, and that was much more important.

“y/n, i am so sorry,” he began gently, “back when your results came, i saw you smiling about it, laughing it off, i thought it was fair game...”

he reached the edge of the bench and the space left. it was big enough for him to fit, almost perfectly, but he continued to stand, a little distant to give you space. “i’m sorry, i should have listened to my intuition more, been more careful, should’ve paid closer attention.”

no matter how afraid i am to, he added in his head. 

“i never meant to hurt you, but that doesn’t mean that it’s... all ok,” he finished, apologising once again, chewing at the inside of his cheek as he nervously waited for any response.

even with your head bowed you were absolutely stunning, how your hair caught the bright autumn sun and accentuated the beautiful face he knew so well. tear stained only made the urge to hold you stronger, to make you laugh more powerful.  how had he gotten into this mess.

“why did you have to say that, seonghwa?” your words were threadbare, lilting like distant birdsong made up only of mountain echoes. your tears had not quite dried, cheeks rosy from the wind and his mistake, but your breath was more stable. “why do you always have to tease me? why can’t you... just say the nice things, the sweet things?” 

he wasn’t aware of just how much of a leap you had made, and how your heart threatened to burst from your ribs at the dangers you had proposed for yourself. with fortune on your side however, they did not come, and seonghwa continued, discarding the urge to back down against what he had done for so long prior.

“i want to say them, i always do,” he explained hesitantly, trying to push through the murk of the truth and continue with the revelation he had discovered, “i was just... so afraid.”

“of what?”

your question was so simple and yet he couldn’t answer straight away. swallowing thickly, with it heavy upon his tongue, he tried his best. “of you not liking me back. of being made to look like an idiot for thinking i had...”

the wind rustled the trees who gossiped about the scene below by their roots. your eyes glanced up to see the mother and child nowhere to be found and you couldn’t help but wonder at what point they decided to leave, or whether they fled from the drama at all.  you didn’t dwell on it though, there was no way you could with your crush stood waiting patiently for you to speak. he looked much like a kicked puppy, though he was trying to retain his cool by avoiding your gaze fully. although, he never looked away.

“you looked like an idiot anyway,” you finally answered, waiting for him to respond with a retort and assume everything was ok. but he didn’t. he remained quiet, waiting for you to finish. “just for a different reason.”

he nodded at that. 

it never truly dawned on you that the play that you were enacting was actually for one, a confession, and two, real. that wouldn’t actually come until you opened your eyes an hour later after falling asleep upon that bench. instead, you continued to drift through reality, flowing with what felt right.

catching onto the fact he was waiting for your call, you shifted just slightly across the bench to beckon him to sit.

he perched on the edge of the iron at your side, a fair distance between you as he finally tore his eyes away, letting them settle across the small hills of the park. there wasn’t anyone in sight, the sun having gone in and leaving the cold to continue its infiltration into your bones.  

thus, you shuffled across the bench, a fair bit in reality that he didn’t notice until the very end, when you were about to lean into to him.

“y/n...?”

you rested your head on his shoulder, the warmth he seeped reigniting your icy skin and fending off the numbness that had taken root there without you knowing. it felt natural to be there, laying against him, and he seemed to think so too, as he made no effort at all to stop you. in fact, he shifted himself further back, giving you more room, and let out the air he had gathered in his lungs for a blow he never received.  

“i like...” you began, though you were stopped by the need to clear your throat, your sobbing having left it dry, “your leather jacket, back home. it looks so comfortable and... badass.”

you felt him look down to you, though you made no effort to crane your neck up to see what his expression was. you were quite comfortable enough where you were. soon though, he caught on. “i like your outfit today. it suits you really well.”

the joyous rush seonghwa felt after complimenting you was ineffable.

“your voice is really good. it’s so soft and clear.”

“i think your laugh is sweet. it’s adorable and i can’t help but smile when you i hear it.”

“i think you’re cute.”

“i think you’re gorgeous.”

a chill caught your shoulders and a shiver melded with your shy giggle that followed his words. within moments though, his arm is around you, holding you closer, protecting you from the autumn cold. it felt so right to finally be nice to one another, and tiredly staring off at the buffering canopies beyond, you regretted all the time you had wasted dancing around the subject in favour of the status quo. 

“isn’t this much better?” you murmured finally, glancing up to catch a glimpse of hi handsome face at a new angle. “playing sweet?”

he peered down to meet you, a small smile upon his plush lips. it wasn’t as grand as the one on that bright summer’s afternoon, but it felt sincere all the same—etched with nerves from where he had bitten anxiously, teasing at his cheeks, a box grin in the making. 

his hand, somehow hot against the approaching winter, rose to softly rest against your temple. he traced spirals into your skin there, delicately as if the wind could brush them away, before lifting to the corner of your eye. you’d long since finished crying, your eyes and nose tinted rouge—it would have been something that you would’ve been ashamed of, but the man’s doting caress was enough to push it far from your mind. despite the disappearance of your sorrow, the chrysalis of a tear, near complete, resided there. and so he wiped it away with the tip of his thumb.

shy at his touch, you ducked your head away from his tenderness, choosing to bury your nose in his neck instead. you felt his laugh roll through you, deep and calming, as his arms held you secure at his chest. and there, in the face of the cold autumn, you decided that you could stay like that for a bit longer.

~~~

an: idk if i like this yet. probably not.

once again i wrote this in drabble format thinking it would be short but then it was not. like always. why am i even surprised. 

masterlist

[deeeelightfuldee]

Your ex taps you on the shoulder and says, “I still love you.” You say? ooooof. I don’t think i’d buy that. I hardly think people who DO show they have feelings for me are being truthful, so I doubt that.

Do you play video games? haven’t in some time, but I want to get back into it a little.

Do you spend a lot of time with family? oh heck yeah. I have a really great family.

Is your house more than two stories tall? nah, it’s the two stories with a basement.

Have you ever hit your significant other? Has he/she ever hit you? I will never raise my hands to another human being. I once dated someone who was a veteran and had severe ptsd. we were napping one time and he got aggressive. that wasn’t HIM though. 

What makes you an attractive person? (Talk about your personality too!) physically, I suppose I have nice eyes and a decent smile. personality wise, I am warm, friendly, loving, supportive, sometimes funny, very loyal.

What color is your hairbrush/comb? depends which one I use. I have a pink one right now. 

What snacks do you have available in your household atm? I honestly haven’t got a clue. I haven’t been let out of my room in 2 weeks.

Has anyone recently told you that they like you, or find you attractive? yes. it’s weird.

Are you attracted to the last person you Facebook messaged? DEF not. he has been asking me out since we worked together maybeeeee.. 8-9 years ago? 

Do you care about anyone that doesn’t care about you? yes! I am trying to learn how to undo that. it’s not that I don’t want to care about him, but I know and can soooooooo clearly see that he doesn’t care anymore, and it is extremely emotionally draining to watch.

Was your last Facebook friend requests from a male or female? I wanna say female but idk

Which one of your relatives is most likely to embarrass you? scott

When was the last time you ate a bar of chocolate? couple days ago.

Do you play any games on Facebook? Nope.

What would you like to get a degree in? I have two degrees -- one in psych and one in SLP. 

Do you wake up a lot in the middle of the night? ahahahaha yes. almost always wide awake from 3-6

Would you prefer to read a book, watch a movie or TV show, or play a video game? typically more in the movie/show or book mood.

Do you usually get popcorn or soda at the movie theater? Both. nothing like that buttery, salty goodness that obvs requires an enormous drink

What genre of films do you like the best? either make me EXTREMELY sad, or romantic.

How many bank accounts do you have? 2

Have you ever had the flu? Yeah.

What is your goal for the next few months? i have several. the only one that can/will be public right now, is to get my lungs back to functioning as they were.

Have you ever had some kind of sleep-disorder? How did it affect your life? yes. I have very bad breathing during sleep. I have had 11 sleep studies done, because my breathing will just stop randomly, which luckily my brain wakes me. it doesn’t really affect my like severely.. I function normally. but shoooooot, if I got normal levels of sleep i’d be a force to be reckoned with.

Have you ever had food poisoning before? Describe the experience. Yes. It was AWFUL. vomiting for 2 days straight. it was so gross.

Funny, charming, cute, romantic, smart - choose only 2 for the opposite sex. smart and romantic.

Have you ever let somebody use you? Why did you do it? hmm. I think there have been times where i’ve let people have more access to me than they should have had. or there have definitely been times I’ve been used in school groups. But honestly, I tend to be protective of myself. I stop when I feel enough is enough. 

You can go back in time & change something in your mom’s past - what is it? I would want either Bill to not die, or for her to be spoiled incessantly by someone else.

Do you know anybody who is around the exact same size as you? Who? psh. no. my friends are all tiny which is just not fun.

Ever been to a haunted house? How scared were you? Yeah. i found it so fun.

Been on any websites today you wouldn’t want your parents to see? ahahahaha no. 

Which is worse: dusting or mopping? mopping. i hate doing the floors.

Did you pull a senior prank? Not really advised when a homeschooler. 

Did you graduate? Yes. that was a rough, rough day.

Have you ever been unfaithful in a serious relationship? Nope

What was the last song you listened to? i think it was Happier than Ever by billie eilish. the lyrics are ... woof. 

Are you one of those lucky people with 20/20 vision? 20/12 -- the last time I had insurance anyway.

Is fashion one of your interests? honestly, if I had money, it would be. but it isnt right now.

Do you think you’ll eventually find that special someone? It’s getting harder and harder to believe that will be the case. I knowwwww I need to start dating, but every time I go to open up an app, I hesitate and chicken out. I just was so happy before.. its hard to think I could be able to offer anything to anyone right now.

Do you care what people think? veryyyyyy few people. I care about the thoughts of those I genuinely love and respect. However, I still ensure I’m protecting myself regardless.

Is acting something you enjoy? No. 

What was the last thing you broke/sprained? I have a bum knee, so I sprain that from time to time. I last broke a finger.

Have you ever fought with a friend because of their boyfriend/girlfriend? Because of yours? ahahahaha yes. but years ago. never because of mine.

Has a stranger ever yelled at you for your language? No. I don’t cuss. 

Whose house, other than yours and your families’, are you most comfortable at? probably either nathan’s or em’s.

Has any of your friends’ family ever yelled at you? alix’s family used to yell at me a lot for being fat. that used to mess me up. 

Did you ever play a sport as a little kid? Did you enjoy it? soccer. no, i found the endless running to be unnecessary. 

Did you ever watch the show Full House? yup

Is there a celebrity you are just DETERMINED to marry? no, thats so out-of-touch with reality

Have you ever burned someone’s picture? yes, i have.

What’s the longest hike you’ve ever been on? i think it was 8 hours. I hate hate hate hikes. But, thats because I have really weak lungs, so my doctor says it’s like lighting them on fire.

Would you ever get a lip tattoo? No.

Who is the first person of the opposite sex that pops into your head? kile

Do your parents smoke cigarettes? my mom hasn’t since a teenager. I think my dad does still. though, i dunno for certain.

What does one of your T-shirts have written on it? uhhhh, PTK honors society

Name a pet you definitely wouldn’t want. Any reptile or insect. <<<< same

Would you prefer your partner smaller or taller? Taller. 

Do you enjoy going through old pictures? Yes. very much so.

Do you believe people when they say they don’t judge people? No, i respect people who are truthful saying they either try not to judge, or that they do judge despite their desire to stop.

What did you love the most about the town you grew up in? sooooooo much. it’s small town-y, quiet, safe, lots of trees, family close by.

What’s a movie you cried the hardest during? ps i love you will always shatter my heart.

What’s your favorite restaurant? buona or ashford

Is there a dessert you don’t like? im not wild about pastries.

What’s a book that you read because everyone else was reading it? hmmm maybe that one mrs. pettigrews home for peculiar children.

Underwater or outer space? i’m fascinated by both. typically more interested in the water.

Dogs or cats? both. all of them.

Kittens or puppies? kittens.

Bird watching or whale watching? whales!!!!!!!!

What was your best subject in school? in HS probably history. or science. in college, psych or neuro.

What was your worst subject in school? Math. always freakin’ math.

What is one thing you wish you knew in high school? Uhhh. hm. i don’t think anything. I liked my experience.

Who is your fashion icon? nada.

Diamonds or pearls? Both are nice. I love pearl stud earrings and I really want a simple, one pearl necklace. I am kinda ruined for diamonds for some time. My favorite rings and necklace were diamonds from kile and I just cant bring myself to wear those anymore.

What color dress did you wear to prom? pink

Honestly, are you jealous of someone right now? oh sure. I am envious of those with bangin’ bods. I’m envious of those who have great finances. I am envious of those who live life married to their love. I’m envious of people who see kile regularly. But there are difficulties that come with any of those situations.

Honestly, when was the last time you REALLY cried your heart out? not long ago. the whole crushing reality of losing kile just destroyed me. I’m OK now.

Do you need to return anyone’s phone call? ahahahahah. I just reject all calls.

Who are you closest to? My mom and nathan rn.

Have you ever had a bad concert experience? no

Are you currently sad about anything? several things have recently been really saddening, but I’m ok. Ill get thru it.

Have you had any form of exercise today? Its going to be some time before I’m cleared for that. I almost faint from taking a shower and I have to be on oxygen after doing the one flight of stairs. 

Can you handle blood? doesn’t bother me at all.

Has any place hired you underage for a job? yes. I mean technically, I was legal to work in that I was 17, but the company didn’t want to hire younger than 18.

Have you ever carried a concealed weapon? not like in public, but at a house or gun range, yes.

Are you currently searching for a job? soon.

Does eating breakfast make you sick? i’m never ever ever hungry for it. I know i should, but its the worst. I don’t even like breakfast foods.

[noona-clock]

Holiday Rumors

Genre: Office!AU/Fluff

Pairing: Junmyeon x You

By Admin B

Author’s Note: This takes place in the Rumors universe. See masterlist for links.

Usually, you were not the type to leave your Christmas shopping until the last minute. You liked to plan things out, and you also liked to get things done as quickly as possible - especially if there was a deadline.

But having a five-month-old tends to throw a wrench in your plans. A wonderful, adorable wrench, of course. But still a wrench. Not that you were comparing your daughter to a tool! You hadn’t planned on having her, that is true, but she was still the best thing which had ever happened to you.

...Well... Second best. Junmyeon still held that top spot. He was also partially responsible for your daughter’s existence, so he still had the right to take precedence.

But I digress! We were talking about Christmas shopping!

It was currently the weekend before the Big Day, and you’d realized you still had quite a few presents to buy. You hadn’t particularly wanted to leave your daughter because you left her all during the week when you went to work, but... if you didn’t get your shopping done now, you would most likely have to wait until after Christmas, and... well, what’s the point in that?

So Junmyeon had insisted you go, assuring you that he would be just fine being a single parent for an afternoon. He had ordered all of his gifts online and had been living a carefree life for a couple of weeks now. 

Lucky.

You knew you could also just online shop, but 1) it was too close to Christmas to risk it, and 2) there was just something about actually shopping in a store. Call you old-fashioned, but you liked to go out and shop. Just like you liked to read actual books instead of e-books.

You’d just spent the past few hours going from store to store, picking out gifts for Junmyeon and Simon and your family and your daughter (and maybe a couple for yourself, but not too many because you had refused your husband’s offer to take his credit card, and you still made far less money than he did which was fine because you loved your job, and you would much rather stay an editor but anyway). You had eaten lunch at one of your favorite cafes in the city, but by the time you were officially done, your stomach was starting to let you know it was getting empty again.

When you arrived back at your townhouse, you somehow managed to grab hold of all of the bags you’d accumulated before slowly making your way up the stairs and only slightly struggling to get the front door unlocked and open.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, let me help you.”

Of course, the first thing you heard was Junmyeon’s voice, tinged with panic when he saw how much you were carrying.

He had always been helpful and thoughtful and little overprotective. You’d learned this when you’d broken and dislocated many bones in your body after your bus accident very early on in your relationship. But he had reached a whole new level after you’d gotten pregnant, and apparently, he was still weaning himself off that - even after five months.

But you weren’t going to complain or insist you could do it yourself because -- well, you had at least ten shopping bags. You could certainly use some help.

Junmyeon took as many as he could, promising he wouldn’t peek inside as he took them upstairs to your bedroom. You set the remaining bags by the foot of the stairs, a smile lighting up your face as you headed into the living room where your daughter was lying on her playmat, kicking at the little toys hanging from the arch going from one side to the other.

“Hello, my angel,” you greeted, gently sliding her out toward you and helping her sit up. “Hello.”

Your daughter’s lips pulled into an adorable, gummy smile, and she gurgled with delight when she saw you. She reached out her chubby little arms, and you picked her up.

“Oh, I missed you,” you told her before blowing some soft raspberries on her cheeks. “Yes, mommy missed you so much.”

The soft thud of Junmyeon’s footsteps caused you to turn around, and your smile grew even brighter as he sauntered over to the two of you. He slid an arm across your back, leaning in and planting a long, playful kiss on your cheek.

“We missed you, too,” he murmured as you turned to give him a real kiss. “You got all of your shopping done?”

You hummed, pursing your lips for yet another kiss.

“Now all you gotta do is wrap them.”

“Oh, I will leave that for tomorrow,” you told him. “Future me can worry about wrapping. Right now, I just want to sit on the couch and watch a movie and relax.”

“How about some hot cocoa? Popcorn?” Junmyeon suggested, raising his eyebrows invitingly.

“Perfection.”

As your husband darted off to the kitchen to prepare your snacks for the movie, you carefully kicked your shoes off and perched on the couch. Your daughter was still babbling and smiling and grabbing your hair, trying to put it in her mouth. You kissed her and tickled her and teased her, your heart soaring with every shriek of laughter.

“You know she’s a total mommy’s girl, right?” Junmyeon asked from the kitchen, the smell of fresh popcorn beginning to waft through the air.

“What?” you chuckled. “No, she’s not.”

“She is,” he insisted. “She doesn’t smile or laugh quite like that with me.”

Your brow furrowed slightly, the corners of your lips turning down. “Well. Now that you can feed her, she’ll love you even more than she already does.”

To be honest, though, you’d been more than overjoyed when you’d found out you were having a girl. You’d always wanted a daughter, a chance to have a special bond and teach her all about being a girl - hopefully, that included makeup and fashion since those were fairly large hobbies of yours, but if not, you wouldn’t mind terribly.

Still, you wouldn’t say your daughter was a mommy’s girl.

“It’s all right,” Junmyeon assured you as he brought in two mugs of hot cocoa and set them on the coffee table. He then leaned over and kissed your ear before whispering, “I already have a daddy’s girl.”

“Oh my god,” you blushed. He was right, but did he have to say it out loud?! “You are lucky she has absolutely no idea what you’re saying.”

“I know,” he smirked. “I have to take advantage of it while I still can. Another year, and she’ll be starting to repeat everything we say.”

“I’ll have to start reading some books about George Washington to you, huh?” you cooed, nuzzling your daughter’s chipmunk cheeks. 

The one thing you’d desperately wanted your child to inherit from her dad was his cheeks, and you’d nearly cried with joy when you saw how plump they were.

Once the popcorn had finished, Junmyeon poured it into a bowl and carried it over, letting out a soft sigh as he plopped next to you on the couch.

“What shall we watch?” he asked, grabbing the remote while you stood to put your daughter back on her playmat.

“Hmm... how about... Elf?” You’d had an exhausting, somewhat stressful afternoon trying to find all the right presents, so you felt like watching something to help you escape. Take your mind off things by making you laugh.

Junmyeon immediately searched for the movie, finding it easily and selecting it. 

As the opening music started playing, you scurried back to the couch, cuddling up when he lifted his arm for you, and picking up some kernels of popcorn.

“I really did miss you,” your husband murmured as he rubbed your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you frowned, leaning your head back just a bit to look up at him. “I hardly ever go this late without getting all my shopping done.”

“Hey, it’s okay. We’ve got a lot going on these days. Viola told me how busy you guys have been - more than you’ve let on.”

The eyebrow he raised at you forced a very innocent, angelic smile onto your lips.

“It’s fine! I’ve gotten all my projects done, I’ve never skipped a meal, your daughter has never skipped a meal. And now I have all of my presents, so it’s all good. I’ve got it.”

Junmyeon simply let out a little sigh before pressing a kiss to your forehead this time. “You know you didn’t even need to buy me anything, right? I don’t need any presents.”

“Yes, you do,” you chuckled.

“I do not,” he insisted. “Everything I need is --”

“Right here,” you finished for him.

“Well, it’s true! I have you, I have our baby, I have my job and this place... What more do I need?”

You thought about the super nice smartwatch you’d purchased for him, and a sly little grin tugged at your lips. “You’ll find out the answer to that when you open your presents in a few days.”

“Is it... another baby?” he asked hopefully.

“No,” you replied with some firmness. You were not ready to be pregnant again. The two of you had just started... well, you know. It had taken you this long to feel physically and emotionally ready for it again. You didn’t want to go back to square one again so soon! “Maybe next Christmas.”

“Okay, I can work with that.”

You simply let out a soft chuckle before cuddling back into him, reaching for your mug and sipping the rich, smooth hot chocolate. 

As you began to let yourself get lost in the world of Buddy the Elf, you couldn’t help but think... Junmyeon was right. You’d gotten to a point in your life where you didn’t really need any presents. You had everything you needed to make you truly happy; everything else was just icing on the gingerbread cookie.

Plus, this was probably the last Christmas you would have before the holiday shifted to be about Santa Claus and magic and hiding toys in the closet and leaving out milk and cookies. Everyone had told you your life would change after having a kid, and they’d been completely right.

It was the best change in the world, of course, and knowing you were going through it with Junmyeon? You wouldn’t have chosen anything different for the world.

Later that night -- much, much later -- you woke up suddenly, seemingly for no reason. 

You and Junmyeon had managed to get to bed at a decent time; your daughter had passed out after her bath around 9pm, a change to her usual schedule that you desperately hoped would continue.

And you had pretty much fallen asleep as soon as your head had hit your pillow.

(Another reason why you wanted to wait to have another baby? You didn’t really have a choice. You fell asleep way more easily than you ever had in your life, and the times you could actually spare the energy to try and make a baby were few and far between.)

But your body was so used to waking up a few times a night, apparently, that you still did - even if your daughter wasn’t crying.

You instinctively reached out to your husband’s side of the bed, planning to snuggle up and go back to bed. But your arm landed on the sheets with a soft thump.

You lifted your head, blinking the sleep from your eyes to make sure you weren’t making things up. But, no. Junmyeon wasn’t there. And, from the sound of it (or lack thereof), he wasn’t in the bathroom, either.

So you quietly rolled out of bed, stepping into your slippers and shuffling toward the door, grabbing your fuzzy robe on your way out.

The door to your closet/makeup room/the nursery (yeah, the two of you were already planning on finding a bigger space, as sad as it would be to leave this townhouse of your dreams) was wide open, and you heard no sounds coming from in there, either.

You tiptoed down the stairs, your confusion growing when it seemed like it was silent down here, too.

But when you reached the bottom, you saw... probably the sweetest, most heartwarming sight your eyes had ever beheld.

Junmyeon was standing in front of the Christmas tree, holding your baby girl and swaying and bouncing gently from side to side. Her tiny little hand was grasping one of his fingers as she stared at the lights. Junmyeon placed a few kisses on her cheek, murmuring softly against her skin.

“Isn’t it pretty?” he asked, his voice just barely above a whisper. “It’s a Christmas tree. You’ll probably be a little more excited next year, though.”

A smile pulled at your lips as you shuffled up behind your husband, sliding a hand around his waist and placing your chin on his shoulder once he stopped moving around.

“Hey,” he greeted quietly. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” you assured him. “Was she crying?”

“Just a little. You were completely out, so I brought her down here in case she got too loud.”

You simply let out a little sigh, pressing your face quickly into Junmyeon’s neck. “I love you,” you murmured.

“Because I wanted to let you sleep,” he chuckled.

“No,” you scolded gently. “I love you because you’re better than the best husband I could’ve ever asked for. Better than the best father to our girl I could’ve ever imagined.”

Apparently, seeing him standing in front of the Christmas tree with your daughter had brought out your sappy, sentimental side. And maybe the fact it was the middle of the night and you were extremely sleepy.

“See? This is why I don’t need any presents,” Junmyeon replied. “You love me. Our daughter loves me. I’m lucky enough with just that. My life isn’t missing one single thing.”

You let out a tired but very happy hum, squeezing your husband slightly and placing a kiss on his shoulder.

He was right. Christmas had never been about the presents, of course; it had always been about love and joy and being together. But now you honestly felt like you really did have all the gifts you needed. You didn’t need to unwrap anything come Christmas morning because everything you needed - everything you wanted - was right here.

(But you were still super excited to give Junmyeon his smartwatch. He was going to love it.)

[khadij-al-kubra]

Can I Bar-row Your Attend-tion  (ch3)

Pairing: Roman/Patton

Characters: Roman, Patton, Logan, Virgil, Thomas, Joan, Talyn (some OCs)

Word Count: (who’s she? never heard of her? XP)

Summary: Roman and Patton are two bartenders at a local bar & grill with some serious chemistry. However, the only people who don’t realize it are each other, and one of them is in a relationship…on the rocks.

Author’s Note:

Hey friends! What’s this? Two chapters in one week!? Don’t get used to it, sadly. I want to get content out ASAP, but my work schedule sucks. For now though, here’s the next chapter in the Bar & Grill AU, and I am SO thankful to see all the positive feedback so far and am happy you’re enjoying it! If you’d like to be in the tag list for future chapters in the Bar & Grill AU or other works by me, let me know. And as always feel free to leave a comment in the messages or reply if you have any notes or constructive critiques. I’m always open to writing advice. Enjoy!

<--PREVIOUS

Chapter 3: Premium Chemistry, Shaken not Stirred (POV- Roman)

It was a slow Tuesday night at the bar & grill, just a dozen of regulars either having dinner at the tables or drinks at the bar. The Sanders’ employees were by no means slacking on their jobs, yet there was an air of comfortable easement. Which suited Roman fine. He’d just come from another long rehearsal before his shift and frankly it had left him in no mood to be overly charming to any new faces tonight. Fortunately for him, Patton was patient enough to listen to him vent.

“…And THEN Fred—you know, our Angel? Ugh, I can’t believe I have to kiss him—anyways, he goes and tells everyone my idea but then just rephrases it differently and takes credit for it. If that wasn’t bad enough, they all go along with it and tell Fred what a great idea he had, especially our stage manager Kiersten, or should I say Kier-satan! Curse that little lesbian Lucifer—I swear those two divas are in cahoots—but it was MY idea in the FIRST place! UGH I can’t stand them! I may also be one of the hot popular leads in the cast, but at least I’M not a jerkity-jerk-two-faced-jerk…Gaghhh, I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore!”

“Roman, take it easy! I know you’re upset but you’re starting to spill,” said Patton.

Indeed he had overfilled one of the glasses and now there was a small puddle on the counter. Good thing it was just club soda from the nozzle and nothing expensive.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” he said as he fixed the last drink. “Here’s your Old Fashioned, Sal. Just like you.”

“Thanks pal,” said the mustached contractor with a wink.

“And your third Shirley Temple, Imani. You might want to slow down there.”

“Very funny Roman,” said the hijabi. “Save the over dramatics for your rehearsals.”

“I am NOT being over dramatic…not this time anyway,” he pouted, wiping up the spill he’d made with a wet rag.

“Of course you’re not,” said Patton, patting his shoulder sweetly.

Very few things could take even an ounce of enjoyment out of theatrical experiences for Roman, but lying diva cast-mates was one of them. Sadly, he’d been cursed to work with two. In the last few weeks of rehearsals Roman had come to befriend most of the cast and production team. However Fred had proven himself to be an entitled actor that only gave the time of day to his own clique, and Kiersten was—for lack of a Patton approved word—a bitch who was fake nice to everyone only to subtly undermine everyone else’s opinions, even the director! Roman absolutely hated people like that!

“Hey Patton,” said Lizzie, another regular, from the other side of the bar. “Can I get a gin for me and a whiskey sour for my lady love here?”

For once Lizzie was in a black dress and not her usual EMT uniform. Beside her was a curly haired woman in a rose pink dress that complimented her olive skin-tone perfectly. Yas queen, Roman thought. At least someone around here was getting lucky in the love department.

“Coming right up Lizzie! Goodness, it is so nice to finally meet you Maya,” said Patton, ambling over to his customers.

“You know my name?” asked Maya looking pleasantly surprised.

“Oh of course! Lizzie talks about how wonderful you are all the time.” Then Patton gasped loudly. “Is that an engagement ring I spy? CONGRATULATIONS you two! Here, have a celebratory cookie. Aw heck, have two! You deserve it.”

“Thank you,” they said, smiling as Patton handed them each two mini chocolate chip cookies from his apron stash.

As Roman watched his co-worker he couldn’t help but silently gush. This was the thing he loved most about Patton- how sincerely kind he was. The bespectacled angel never put on airs or had ulterior agendas. There wasn’t a single catty bone in the cat lover’s huggable body (ironic given how allergic Patton was to cats). If he listened to or remembered a little detail about you, it was because he genuinely cared about you as a human being. And for Roman, who worked in the competitive and often shady world of theater, that was a rare and beautiful quality in a person.

Everything about Patton was beautiful.

“I think that spot there is clean enough lover boy,” said Sal, his mustache twitched in a smirk.

“Right. Thanks Sal—wait, what do you mean lover boy?” he asked.

“Listen, Ro,” Patton said coming back over. “I understand why you’re so upset and your feelings are completely valid. But you can’t let people like that get you down and ruin the whole experience for you. That’s how bullies like them win. You get along with the rest of the cast, right?”

“Yes, they’re fantastic,” he said. “Our Mimi and I have even become good friends.”

“Aaand your director is nice and fair, right?”

“Very. He’s downright brilliant.”

“And you’re having fun being part of this show, right?”

“Of course! RENT is an institution!”

“Then that’s all that should matter! Just do your best, ignore the rest, and remember to have fun with it!”

Roman chuckled at Patton’s dad-like gesture. So adorable.

“I suppose you’re right Patton. It’s just frustrating. I can’t stand deceitful people like that. They really get under my skin! ...Anyways, enough about my drama. How are you Patton? Anything new in your life?”

For some reason Patton seemed surprised by the question. It’s not as though Roman wasn’t interested in the other’s life. In fact, he was very interested in it. Wanted to be a part of it even…part of his world. Now is not the time for mental Disney references, Roman. Then Patton beamed. Dear lord, its like he was made of sunshine.

“I’m doing pretty great actually,” said Patton. “In fact, I’ve started volunteering at the local animal shelter on my days off. It’s not Veterinary school, but pretty close enough.And I still get to help cute little animals.”

Of course he would spend his rare free-time helping others. He truly was an angel sent from the heavens. ‘That’s wonderful Patton! I’m happy for you, truly.”

“Thanks Roman. That…means a lot to me.”

“And how’s it been with my temporary replacement?”

“Not bad. He gets along with the customers well enough, although he can’t hold a candle to you.”

“Well of course,” Roman waved his hand dramatically. “I’m basically Lumière.”

Patton giggled. “Actually, aside from looking alike, you wouldn’t think Remy and Logan were related. He’s a lot more laid back. Although he does have a habit of showing up late for work, and I think he might have a bit of a coffee addiction.”

“A bit?” Lizzie called from across the bar. “Please, that guy probably has more coffee in his veins than blood!”

Roman laughed. “Coffee can be pretty addicting. That’s why I switched to drinking chai lattes. They certainly taste a lot better too.”

“Huh. Interesting…”

For some reason Patton seemed to be staring at Roman’s mouth. Good lord, did he have something in his teeth? He turned his head away to slyly check. Phew! All good.

“Well at least one of us is getting along with our new co-workers. Unlike me,” he grumbled. Stupid Fred. Stupid Kiersten.

“Aw Roman, isn’t there something I can do to cheer you up?” asked Patton.

“I doubt it, but I appreciate the gesture Patton.”

Roman sighed, propped his elbow on the table and rested his cheek in hand. As much as he loved being in RENT rehearsals it was taking a chuck out of his treasured time with Patton. Now not only was he forced to deal with two diva bitches, but also someone else was having time with his Patton, probably falling for him just as much as Roman had and waiting to make a move. What if Remy charmed Patton enough that he’d actually break-up with Dio for the guy? What if he was more Patton’s type, more worthy of the sweet man’s love than him? What if his replacement was more handsome than he was!?

Wait what am I thinking? There’s no one more handsome than me. Still… Suddenly there was a staccato tapping on his shoulder. Roman turned from his musings to see Patton grinning at him. The man was practically vibrating with giddiness.

“Can I just, say something crazy?” he asked.

At this line Roman shot up like a meerkat. No. He’s not… Patton wiggled his eyebrows at him conspiratorially, biting his soft looking bottom lip in excitement. He is! Roman did a quick sweep of the bar & grill to make sure there was no sign of Logan. Lenient as their friend boss might be, he’d never let them get away with an impromptu Disney number while they were supposed to be working. Luckily Logan wasn’t around. Probably still in his office. Good.

Roman gave Patton his most dashing smile. “I love crazy!”

“All my life has been a series of doors in my face

and then suddenly I bump into you,” Patton sang.

Roman joined in on cue. “I was thinking the same thing! ‘Cause like,

I’ve been searching my whole life to find my own place.

And maybe it’s the party talking or the chocolate fondue.”

“But with you,” Patton did a slide to the right.

“But with you” Roman slid to the left. “I found my place.”

“I see your face.”

On ‘face’ Patton lightly booped his nose and then stepped out from the bar. Roman followed suit. They had more room to move with and around each other.

“And it’s nothing like I’ve ever known before!

Love is an open door!

Love is an open door!”

Roman knew that Patton could sing, having hummed Disney songs together before, but he’d never had the pleasure of hearing it in full. Patton’s lovely tenor voice blended perfectly with his own baritone vocals. They even nailed the harmonies!

“Love is an open door!”

“With you!” Patton pointed.

“With you!” Roman pointed back.

“With you!”

“With you!”

“Love is an open door.”

Roman couldn’t help laughing out loud. Patton’s joy and whimsy truly were infectious.

“I mean it’s crazy.”

“What?”

“We finish each other’s—

“Sandwiches!” Thomas shouted from over at the kitchen window, holding a plate of club sandwiches.

“That’s what I was going to say!” Roman called back indignantly. 

Then he felt Patton pulling him by the hands to the center of the room as he skipped backwards. “I never met someone”

“Who thinks so much like me!”

“Jinx! Jinx again!” The two grinned as they nailed the pinky swears.

“Our mental synchronization

Can have but one explanation.”

“You”

“And I”

“Were”

“Just

Meant to be!”

Perhaps spurred on by the theatricality of the moment (definitely not his secret feelings), Roman dared to take Patton’s hand and wrap his arm around the other’s waist. Then he led Patton into a waltz. It was a bit sloppy but in a silly lighthearted way. He adored the flustered look on Patton’s face.

“Say goodbye”

“Say goodbye”

“To the pain of the past.

We don’t have to feel it anymore!”

In the back of his mind Roman knew that they were drawing attention to themselves but he didn’t care. Only Patton was in his world in that moment, and thus his world was bright and joyful and perfect. Patton was perfect.

“Love is an open door!

Love is an open door!

Life can be so much more!”

“With you!”

“With you!”

“With you!”

“Love is an open doooor…” Patton finished the song with a giggle. God I love this man.

Suddenly the place was filled with applause. Roman swore he even heard someone whistle from the kitchen. It wasn’t very loud given that there weren’t many people at Sanders’ tonight, but the energy was certainly boisterous enough to match even a full house. For some reason, Talyn was handing money over to Joan. Even Virgil seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and was clapping as he leaned against the wall. Where did he come from? I swear that guy is like a shadow sometimes.

That’s when Roman realized he and Patton were still holding onto each other. They were face to flushed smiling face. So close he could see the pure honey color of Patton’s eyes. Roman could lean in, feel just how soft those sweet lips truly were if he wanted to, and dear lord did he want to. So far yet so…close…

STOP! STOP! HE’S TAKEN YOU IDIOT! The flaring red alarm in Roman’s brain brought him back to the reality of the situation. Roman stopped himself and settled for just smiling at Patton. Way too close Roman. You nearly ruined the best thing you have with the best person in your life. Dio doesn’t know how lucky he is.

“Just KISS already ya goofballs!” Dakota shouted from across the room.

Terrence shut him up by smacking him on the back of the head form the table opposite him, but it had already been said. It was out there now, spoken to the universe. Roman’s entire face was burning and his co-worker was just as red beneath those freckled cheeks he wanted to kiss so badly. Oh great! You’ve embarrassed him! He immediately let go of Patton’s hands, laughing it off awkwardly. He already missed the warmth of those soft gentle hands. If only his heart would stop fluttering.

“Ahem.” Oh no.

Roman slowly turned around to find Logan standing there. His arms were crossed, his face stone-like, and yet to Romans surprise he didn’t seem angry. In fact, he would swear there was an amused glint in his dark eyes.

“Well. That was quite the performance. Highly unprofessional in this setting,” he said, adjusting his glasses.

Patton stepped in front of Roman, arm held out protectively. “It was my fault Logan. I was the one that started singing. Roman had a really bad day and everyone was already taken care of. I just wanted to cheer him u—

Logan held up a hand, and Patton closed his mouth with a pop. “However…given that it is nearly empty in here, save for our regular customers and they all seemed to enjoy the show…I shall let it slide this one time.”

“Wow. Thank you Lo—“

“Just don’t make a habit of it, or else it’s dish duty for the both of you.”

Roman gulped, picturing all those burnt cheese encrusted pans. His nails would never survive. “Understood specs.”

“Excellent. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there is a shoebox full of bank statements in my office that need organizing.”

Logan walked away with an almost giddy smile. He really is a happy little nerd at heart. Roman shook his head fondly as he and Patton returned to the bar.

“Nice little show you put on,” said Virgil, suddenly standing at Roman’s end of the bar.

“Gah,” Roman jumped. “We really need to put a bell on you, shadowling.”

“Hi Virgil!”

“Sup bro?”

“Need me to place an order for you?”

“Nah don’t sweat it. I already asked Thomas while you guys were having your Disney mania moment. You two were getting pretty cozy at the end there.”

Roman’s ears felt hot again and he shot a panicked look at Patton. The fatherly figure either hadn’t heard that last part or was pretending otherwise. How DARE Virgil embarrass his own stepbrother like that! Wait, is he blushing too? Is that a good sign or a bad one? Okay, just play it cool Roman.

“Oh don’t be ridiculous, Cruella de Virgil. Patton was only trying to lift my spirits after an arduous rehearsal, which he did as always. Uh-I-I mean-like you always do with any of your friends! Nothing special or non-consensually romantic about it!”

Roman laughed weakly but thought he’d played it off well. Patton no longer looked embarrassed at least. Although…his smile seemed a bit off.

“Yep! Just helping out a…friend,” said Patton.

“I do feel better now. Truly,” said Roman. He covered Patton’s hand with his own and gave a reassuring squeeze, knowing how much the man loved physical affection. “Thank you for lifting my spirits Patton. It means a lot.”

“Anytime Roman,” said Patton.

“I hate to interrupt fellas,” said Sal, “But we’re out of beer nuts here. Mind getting some more?”

“Woops! Sorry ‘bout that kiddo,” he said to the older gentleman. “We should have another can of them in the supply room somewhere. Be right back.”

Roman watched the pseudo padre practically prance to the back storage, unable to ignore how good those khaki jeans looked on him from behind. He felt ashamed at his having the male gaze but DAMN IT ALL, how could a man be both sexy and cute at the same time? That’s not FAIR!

“Geez, you do have it bad, don’t you Princy?” said Virgil.

“Whaaaat? Pshh me? Have feelings for Patton? Knowing full well he’s my co-worker and already taken? You-you impude my honor! I-I do not secretly…love…Patton…”

“Falsehood,” said Logan passing by with a box in his hands.

This had Virgil and pretty much everyone else seated at the bar in a guffaw. He shot them all dagger eyes but even he knew this was a weak response. Heck, if the cyborg had picked up on the feelings he’d tried to hide then clearly he hadn’t done a very good job. His shoulders sagged in defeat.

“Is it really that obvious?” he asked.

“YES,” They all answered.

“Subtlety isn’t exactly your strong suit,” said Imani.

“That’s true,” he sighed. “Wait, you don’t think Patton—

“Don’t worry bud, he doesn’t know. I love my brother but he’s about as oblivious as you are dramatic.” 

Roman gave a fake-offended gasp, but even he knew it was a gesture weakened by his relief. Thank goodness Patton was still preoccupied in storage. Come to think of it, he’s been going back there a lot lately…I hope he’s okay. Probably just sneaking off to text his boyfriend, the lucky bastard.

“Seriously though,” Virgil said, “you really should just kiss him already. Or at least tell him how you feel. You know, carpe diem and all that.”

“Virgil…I’d be lying if I said doing either of those things hasn’t occupied my every waking daydream since I met that beautiful man!” Roman sighed loudly, setting down the towel he’d thoroughly wrung out. “But I don’t dare to risk ruining our friendship if he doesn’t feel the same.”

“Some risks are worth taking. And that’s coming from the guy who won’t risk going outside if there’s even a slight chance of scattered thundershowers.”

“But…your tagger symbol is your initials inside of a storm cloud.”

“The irony doesn’t escape me.”

“Besides,” said Lizzie, “I don’t think it’d be too big a risk since Patton clearly feels the same about you.”

“Wait, wha-what?” A glimmer of hope rose up in Roman chest.

“Hey, what the heck Lizzie? I have a bet going on!” Imani shouted from the other end of the bar. Wait, what bet?

��So do I sister!” Lizzie playfully stuck her tongue out at the Muslim woman then kissed her fiancé.

“Wait, wait, back up! What the heckity-heck with five abs in one peck—

“That’s a visual,” said Virgil.

“—makes you think Patton could possibly have feelings for me? Are you certain? Did he say something to you?”

“Well no, not in words per se. But he sure does show it pretty darn clearly,” said Sal as he took a swig of his drink. Then he held it out, silently asking the bartender for another.

“How so?” Roman asked as he mixed another Old Fashioned.

“For one thing he gets real touchy feely with you. Always going in for hugs and squeezing your arm and the like.”

“Patton’s always like that. He’s a very affectionate man.” One of his most endearing traits, Roman thought.

“True, but with you he’s extra,” said Sal as he took his drink.

“Plus, whenever you show up for you shift, he gets super bubbly,” said Lizzie. “Even by Patton standards.

“Not to mention you two just fucking waltzed around the room together,” said Joan as they passed by with two orders of nachos.

“Aaand he sang a Disney song just to cheer you up,” said Talyn as they brought Terrence and Dakota their checks.

“And don’t forget I grew up with the guy,” said Virgil. “I recognize his puppy-love face and he definitely gets it around you.”

“But,” said Iman with a resigned huff. “You want to know the biggest tip off? You are the only person here who he never calls kiddo.”

Roman’s mouth was opened prepared to protest, but this last bit of evidence took the wind right out of his chimes. He couldn’t remember Patton ever referring to him by his favorite fatherly term of endearment. Did that truly mean he saw Roman as more than a friend? Could he really be lucky enough to have somehow earned the affection of someone as kind, beautiful and wonderful as Patton Cline? Could the light of his life truly see something in him worthy of loving? If that’s the case then maybe Roman did have a chance! Maybe they could be more than friends, maybe—

“I…I can’t.” Roman signed, shoulders slumping with lost hope. “You’re right, I should be honest with my feelings. And perhaps what you say about Patton may be true. But there’s one glaring obstacle you’re all forgetting about; he already has a boyfriend. An awful creepy one but nevertheless…he is taken. And as much as I hate my snake-faced rival, Dio is the one Patton has chosen to be with. Not me...which means that is what he wants most.” 

Roman did his best to swallow back tears threatening to make a jailbreak from his eyes. “So long as that is the case, I will not disrespect Patton’s choice by coming between them. That would be dishonorable of me and unfair to Patton. And I love him too much to ever do anything that could possibly hurt him.”

He could practically feel all of their eyes on him, but none of them said anything. They merely turn back to their drinks or meals. Roman was glad of it. He didn’t think he could handle them trying to convince him otherwise. He was more than willing to suffer in silence if it means doing right by the man he loved.

When he looked up at Virgil though, his best friend, there was a look of understanding in the artist’s eyes behind his bangs. Perhaps even respect.

“Fair enough,” Virgil said.

“Order up Virgil,” said Thomas.

He held out the to-go bag, for once leaning outside of the kitchen doors instead of the windowsill. The cook was giving Roman a look of sympathy. Had he been eavesdropping between orders?

“Thanks Thomas,” said Virgil grabbing the bag. “I already had Logan ring up my bill when I came in, so I’m just gonna duck out.”

“Okay. See you next time then. And Roman…hang in there buddy.” 

Then the young cook retreated back into the kitchen. Yep. He definitely eavesdropped. Surprise, surprise. Was everyone in Sanders’ privy to the Chilean soap opera that had suddenly become his love life? Or lack thereof.

“For what it’s worth Roman…I’d be cool with it.” Virgil scratched the back of his neck beneath his hood. “I think you’d be really good for my brother.”

“Wow...Thanks Virge,” said Roman, humbled by the anxious man. “That really means a lot.”

“Whatever,” Virgil scoffed. “Just know that if you do ever break his heart, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Roman chuckled. “Believe me Dark Knight, I’d kick my own ass first before I let that happen.”

“Good.” Virgil put on his large headphones and two-finger saluted him. “Later.”

Roman watched his friend leave Sanders’ and looked through the glass window as Virgil parkoured away, his black clad figure merging into the dark of the night. It was nice to know that Roman had his approval, though it hardly mattered. Not while Patton wanted to be with someone else.

“I’m back!” said Patton.

“Gah!” Roman jumped a little at Patton suddenly appearing behind him. Seems both brothers have a talent for appearing out of nowhere.

“And I brought beer nuts.” He poured them from the large metal cylinder into the small table bowls at the bar. “Here you go kiddos. What’d I miss?”

“Nothing! Nothing of interesting. Certainly no missed confessions or anything…Uh you sure were back there a long time. Did you get lost or something?”

Patton smiled back at him, but it wasn’t his usual ear-to-ear smile. If Roman didn’t know any better he’d say his eyes looked a bit red behind those glasses.

“Nah, I had to make a quick phone call to…anywho, it doesn’t matter. So didja miss me Roman?”

Roman. Not kiddo. ”Always Patton.”

His partner in bartending crime and unknowing thief of his heart chuckled in that childlike manner he had. Then he turned back to work, cleaning glasses and humming the song they’d sung together only moments ago. Even as he did such a simple task Roman couldn’t help admiring him. Those fairy dust freckles, kind eyes, soft looking waves of hair, and warm smile…he truly was the sun in his sky; So close and beautiful, yet so very far away.

Roman sighed and said softly under his breath, “More than you’ll ever know.”

NEXT-->

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[eleanor-robinson]

Writing, in the Tunnel of Terror

In my writing group, I have the company of two other writers. Wonderful, creative and dedicated writers. I enjoy their company hugely; their support means the world. Yet, I feel as though I am not on the same journey as them. They both write quite prolifically and have been writing for a few years. They are older than me, they have careers. Of course, I’m sure there are things I don’t know, and everyone carries their own struggles, but lately my self-comparison demon has been flaring up.

I have been feeling a lot of shame over the last few weeks—shame that I can’t write as quickly as them; shame that I can’t seem to dedicate myself to my story like they can. I’ve felt weak, and like a failure. When I sat down to think about how my writing process has been going, and to take stock of the things that have been going on in my life, I realised that its no wonder I haven’t been able to get stuck into my novel. The truth is that I’ve been going through a journey of my own, and you can’t really compare a rollercoaster to a bus. Or in my case, a boat ride.

I don’t feel remotely “settled” in any aspect of my life at the moment. For this whole summer, I have felt like I’m on the Tunnel of Terror boat ride at Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory—the surreal and disturbing version from the 1970s film. I’m doing my best just to cling onto the damn boat and not get thrown overboard into the chocolate river.

Last Sunday.

I came out to my Dad as Nonbinary on Sunday. Well, I tried to. He gave me a hefty kick back into the closet.

It was the evening, just me and Dad at home. I came into the living room, where my Dad was watching the golf on telly. I sat next to him and gave him a hug. He could see I was upset, so he asked me what was up.

I had a choice then—do I dare be honest with him? Or do I pretend there’s something else wrong? Could I be honest with him? At first, I pretended I was nervous about starting my new job. But it didn’t sit right with me. I decided to do it. I’ve practised it enough times in my head to know exactly what to say—

I don’t really feel like I have a gender at all. I’ve realised I’m not as attached to womanhood as I thought I was, being constantly gendered at work this year made me feel uncomfortable and confused. I don’t know what to call myself anymore. I’ve thought about using Mx instead of Ms as a title at my new job, but that scares me too. I emailed the new school about it but I got the sense that it wasn’t really possible, so I agreed to go by Ms, which feels safer and more comfortable to me anyway. Its been a stressful and confusing time.

Dad was silent, he didn’t take his eyes off the golf. When he spoke, his voice was tense—

What are you saying? You want a sex change to become a man? What are you trying to prove? You were the girliest little girl I know. You liked sitting inside, colouring, writing stories, doing crafts. Why are you making life hard for yourself? There’s always something with you. Just when we thought you were getting settled down. Your generation are just jumping onto bandwagon after bandwagon. I already have to tiptoe around you in case I’m accidently sexist and now there’s this. I mean for God’s sake. This isn’t normal. This isn’t what normal people do.

After a little back and forth that was mostly me saying the same things, and him saying the same things, I went upstairs and cried into my pillow. I hadn’t even managed to utter the word Nonbinary to him.

After a while, I heard my mum come home. Mum already knows, I trust her, she isn’t judgemental and has been helping me work through my feelings. I comforted myself with the thought that at least I have one ally; at least I have one parent who is accepting. That’s better than what some people get.

My mum came into my room and sat on my bed. He thinks you want to become a man, she said. It would have been funny, but I feel too wounded.

That’s not what I said, that’s not what I meant.  

He doesn’t understand. He’s very old-fashioned. He is going to get dragged, kicking and screaming, into the twenty-first century whether he likes it or not. She strokes my hair. Take your time, just be yourself.

­­­­­­­­­­Even later on, Dad came into my room, with my mum. He tried to make up with me, in his own, back-handed way— I’m sorry I was grumpy, I just feel like you’re making your life harder for yourself.

I’m one of the kids on the boat in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory, with my notebook open, but its too dark to see my writing, and water keeps splashing the pages and ruining the ink, and its not Willy Wonka sitting at the front of the boat, but my Dad speaking judgemental words into my ear. He is supposed to be the one sat next to me, protecting me. I couldn’t articulate to him then that its not me making my life hard, but him.

Last Monday.

The next day, I wake up anxious and full of thoughts. I have had a night of anxiety fuelled dreams filled with characters from my past, people I’ve let down or are simply not in my life anymore and I miss. I force myself out of bed. I do my yoga, I do my meditation, I do my morning pages, I eat my sensible porridge (because I read once that oats are a superfood for curing depression). It’s all mechanical—I am hoping these things will bring some relief. However, all the while, I am scraping at myself, raking myself in search of answers. What is my gender? How can I make myself palatable? How can I fix this? It’s hard to stop. I feel like I have scraped the barrel of my soul and at this point I’m just drawing blood. I know in theory that how other people react to me isn’t my burden, but the wound of rejection throbs. I shower and get ready to meet a friend.

After charity shopping with my friend, we stop for a pint after. She’s known me for a decade, throughout various ups and downs. She can tell something is up and asks me what’s wrong. I tear up. I don’t want to freak you out. She reassures me she won’t be freaked out, so I tell her the whole awful story. I haven’t even told her about being Nonbinary before.

She holds my hand and listens. She’s kind.   She doesn’t judge me. She reassures me. She says she loves me. She doesn’t reject me.

At the end, she says It’s exciting really and smiles.

Today, Saturday, later in the week.

Things with my dad will get better. He can tell I’m hurt, and he is being extra nice to me. He thinks his reaction doesn’t matter because he got the wring end of the stick and I don’t actually want to become a man.  He doesn’t realise that his reaction completely crushed me and made me feel like if I was anything other than woman he’d reject me. We’ve been talking about it a bit more here and there, but he still thinks I am needlessly making my life unbearable.

I simply am who I am—and the world makes it hard for me to do that. As an LGBTQ+ person, denying who you are feels no less comfortable than being who you are in a homophobic and transphobic world. With staying hidden, you have overwhelming feelings of guilt, self-denial and fear, of carrying a great secret burden, of feeling trapped, with no one to talk to. With being open, you have fear how of people react to you, of being discriminated against, of being rejected and hate-crimed, of never finding love. Of course, it’s not like there are just two paths, its a spectrum, and coming out is a life-long task. Also, there are positives to each one too. With staying hidden, you have more physical safety, control and time to process. With being out, you feel free to express yourself completely, even if it is terrifying. Of course, some people are “outed” and are robbed of their choice and autonomy. Others simply cannot come out for their own safety—or maybe they can come out to their friends, but not their family in a sort of double-life of half-freedom. I had a friend at university who was openly queer with her peers, but not with her family. She worked part-time while she studied, and was frugal. When we talked about her financial sitation she said she was saving up money in case her family ever found out she was LGBTQ+, and disowned her.

It feels important to include what happened on Monday as well as what happened on Sunday. There are happy coming out stories, there are painful ones. It’s true that things are a lot “better” than they used to be for LGBTQ+ people, especially in the UK where I live. But coming out is still a huge emotional burden that shouldn’t be underestimated. Like my writer friend Fiona said, ‘Yeah it’s 2021, but for some people in their heads its still the 1950s’.

So I haven’t done much work on my story this week. But I’ve been busy. I’ve been doing other, very important work. I’ve been busy self-soothing, trying to reframe my thoughts away from self-blame and attack to being proud of myself for how true to myself I am. I’ve been journalling and talking to friends. Also, swimming, a lot.

I feel lighter.  I am proud of myself for being curious about who I am. I am proud of myself for wanting to live authentically. I am proud of myself for being brave, for being honest. Indeed, a writer’s work is that of bravery and honesty so this journey through the Tunnel of Terror will only benefit my work, I’m sure of it.

As for me and my Dad? I came down this morning and he had my bike laid out across the kitchen table, replacing my brake pads. I’d vaguely mentioned this a week ago. So, maybe we will be okay. He’s helped me off the boat, and onto my bike.

[letslivelady]

Eight Ways to Preserve Your Family Legacy

A family legacy can mean different things to different people.  Even the way you live life to the fullest can be a legacy in itself.  But,  it often takes some thought to preserve the legacy of your family to be cherished for generations to come.

Since ancient times families have passed on their heritage, family histories, and traditions by word of mouth.  Today, I wish I had recordings or video of all the stories Mom and Dad passed along so many years ago.

We lived in Rosemont on the wrong side of the tracks in a racially mixed neighborhood on the Main Line outside of Philadelphia. It was a time when white people generally kept their distance from black people. It was just the way things were.

On the other side of the tracks, less than a mile off were palatial mansions owned by those in high society — the diplomats, the Secretary of State under Eisenhower, the Heinz family (of Heinz Ketchup fame).

I reminisce on how time passed slowly with hopscotch on the sidewalk or a game of Jack’s on the front porch. Franklin Street made up most of my world at that time.

I remember watching the next door neighbor sigh with admiration as he put the finishing touches on a sign he planted in the little patch of grass in his front yard. “Mortimer’s by the Railroad” it said.

I sat in the kitchen entertaining myself, watching and listening as Mom stirred the pot, putting a finger in to test the temperature, she fixed supper. I listened to the cadence of her brogue and let my mind’s eye bring to life the stories she told, the history, the legends of life far away in Scotland.

I wondered if I would ever be so lucky as to travel to the old country across the ocean where she and my father had been born and raised. Would the highlands be as picturesque and would the heather smell as sweet as it was in the vision she portrayed?

Mom was creating a family legacy in my mind.

She was helping me to visualize and preserve a  family legacy that would carry me through my entire life.  She told me many stories about the old country and it was clear that she was very proud of her Scottish heritage.  But, she chose to remain in America and wanted to go back to the old country to be with family still there whom she loved.  I can here her voice saying:  

"You need know where you've come from, lass.  It is only then you will understand who you are and where you are going."  

I sit here sixty years later, considering what she would have thought of the world we live in today. Would she have marveled at the smart phone and adapt to it the way she appreciated the value of her new remote control for the TV?

“This is the best damned invention they have come up with! I can mute these stinking commercials.  So, there!”she said.

All four foot eleven inches of her pounced on the remote control button to deafen the sound. I reflect on that image of Mom smiling with satisfaction.

So Much Has Changed

So much has changed.  Now the time flies by.  It is no longer the slow passage of time that I experienced as a child.  I wonder where sixty years has gone. I wish my Mom was here again to tell me all the old stories she told so long ago. But, she has been gone now for twenty-six years.

Like a mother hen, I like to gather my chicks. I want to bring together the generations in a way that they can enjoy, remember and reflect on the good old days. Or, are these just the good old days to me? Well, either way it is part of my bucket listof things I want to do.

To Preserve a Family Legacy -Now Is Not the Time to Gather the Kids into the Kitchen

Now is not the time. They are so busy living their lives. They are scattered to the four corners of the world. They do not have the luxury of sitting in my kitchen and listening to the muses of a white-haired old lady, even if I am their mother and grandmother.

So, that gets me to the meat of the subject. What do I do about it? How can I preserve a family legacy for my children? And

What can we do to leave enough of a trail to spark interest in the memories for our children when someday then start searching - after we are gone.

It might be thirty years from now when they try to put together the history and the legacies of their lives for their own families.

I go through my recipes every now and then and see an old Scottish recipe for “Dumplin” in my mother’s handwriting.  I remember her making it as a special treat for Christmas.  It immediately takes me back to our kitchen again with the wafting aroma of currants, cinnamon and lemon.

A Scottish dumplin and took all day to make. It was actually boiled in a pillow case on the stove for several hours. So, Mom rarely had the time or the energy to make it. But, when she did, everybody knew it was special. The taste was similar to a fruit cake and it was served with hot lemon sauce poured over the top. Tea, of course, was a must.

Should I hand write out some of my recipes for the kids? Handwriting is so unique and personal. I always recognize fondly the writing of those I love.

Another Christmas tradition was made by my sister.  She prepared the most fabulous cake, froze it in Massachusetts, and then overnighted to us in Florida.

My niece, Suz and I were talking one day when I mentioned how the sheer length of her mother’s Chocolate Decadence Cake recipe was a bit intimidating to me. (It was three hand-written loose leaf pages.) “Oh, you have it in Mom’s own handwriting! Can you send me a copy of it? I would love having a copy in her own hand.It would be so special!”Suz would cherish it because it was in her mother’s own hand — she already had a typewritten copy of the actual recipe.

Can I preserve a family legacy with simple handwriting?

I wonder occasionally if handwriting will go out of fashion. Maybe they will just start by teaching kids to typewrite on handheld computers in the coming generation. Who knows?

Anyway, that is a clue. Write things down in your own hand and leave it for your kids. It is such a simple thing to do. Yet, it is a treasure for someone who loves you.

Family Traditions

One of our own family Christmas traditions involves writing a personal letter at Christmas and leaving it under the tree. At the time I did not consider that I was creating or preserving a family legacy, but in a way we were.  We often don’t recognize special moments until they have already become a memory.

My husband and I used to write one to each other. We set that occasion to express our love and reflect on the year past.

As the children grew, I would write a personal Christmas greeting to each of my children, sometimes reflecting on the past year and letting them know just how special and important they were in my life. Having this communique helped to capture the essence of what was going on in our lives at the time.

Eventually, the children learned to write something back.  They learned how to express themselves. It cost them not a penny, but they knew that it meant the world to me. And, if the tears of tenderness that we shared during those times is any indication, I would say it was the most priceless gift we each received.

Here are a few other ideas that came up in conversation and in reading on the subject that all relate to you preserving your family legacy in some form!

Preserve Your Family Legacy Eight Simple Ways 

# One- Write your children a letter to be opened upon your death.

We all walk through life as if were are immortal, so something like this can be put off. I have put it off, but it is on my “to do list” somewhere. But, it is something I know I should do. If I were subject to a stroke, I may not be able to put the words together the way I can now.

I have a letter that my mother wrote and left for us to open upon her death. It was one letter addressed to all of her four children. We all sat in Mom’s small apartment, grieving in our own way a day or two after she passed.

My sister, Mary, the oldest of the siblings, was the keeper of the letter and basically the executrix I suppose. She read the letter aloud and made copies for each of us so that we could take it home. I am so grateful that Mom had the forethought and took the time to address us in our grief.

It is a cherished keepsake and one that I hope to pass down. I want my children to know the love that their grandmother had for me. It is a very simple letter, but I love to read the words. They are important. They were my mother’s last message to us.

# Two -  Choose a Bible verse for each of your children

and write a separate letter to each  of your offspring telling them why you chose that verse for them and how that verse reminds you of them.

Or, you could adapt the same idea to a quote from a hero you admire or someone you consider wise. Be sure to tell them how you believe it relates to them.

If you cannot write, or feel uncomfortable writing, record with family what you want them to remember — how you feel about them and some special times you recall sharing with them. It is something you could do in addition to writing, too.

# Three -  Keep a journal or diary

and jot down things that are on your mind or seem important at the time. Put in some detail like the price of gas at the pump, or an item that was in the news — something that in years to come will trigger a connection with the memory of the time in which you lived.

Keeping a journal has become almost a lost art in the busy pace in which we live today. But, it would be good therapy for you as well as a wonderful memoir — a legacythat can be pass down in your family.

There are many times in which I wish I had written down an account of an event or a trip. I wish I wrote about feelings that I was once passionate about in my youth, even if it is just to give myself a laugh. But now the detail of the events and the feeling I attached to something as a child are long gone. Some things just need to be recorded in real time.

# Four - Write a blog — an online journal.

You can write about your life, your travels, your work, hobbies and anything else you feel is important. Well, this is one that I am doing. I never thought of the blog as a memory book, but it does serve that purpose in many ways.

You apparently don’t even have to set up your own website, like I did, in order to have a blog. You can do it more simply without all the technical hair pulling to which I have subjected myself.

According to a post I read yesterday, the most popular free blogging platforms are: Blogger.com, Wordpress.com, Yola.com, Weebly.com, and Wix.com. One caveat is that there are limitations to free blogging. The major one is that you don’t exactly own all of your blog.

If the blog provider decides for any reason that something isn’t right with your blog, they can take it down with no warning to you. They don’t even have to tell you why or give you access to your content.

I would be ready to kill if this happened to me. But, I am told that the chances of that happening are low.

# Five - Go through family photos!

Oh, boy! That sounds like a chore for wintertime — maybe on a snowy night while you are sitting by the fire. (I think I said that I was going to work on that project last winter.)

It is so much nicer when family knows who is who in some of those old photos. You may need to identify the names of the people in the photo and what their relation or connection is to the family.

I started to scan many of my late husband’s old photos while he was still alive. We had a flood in the basement and moisture ruined many of the photos, but some of them were resurrected.

Some times, if you scan the photo, you can digitally touch up and enhance the quality of faded old photos.

# Six -- Make recordings - audio or video.

If you have an elderly member of the family, perhaps one who is not able to write well, who has failing eyesight, or a jittery hand, you might need to ask them questions and record their answers. Or, see if they will allow you to interview them or record your discussions. What a treasure this would be in the future.

Sometimes the best family stories, the legends that are passed from one generation to the next, can be fascinating. Before you or a close family member has a debilitating stroked and memories are lost, maybe you can create a keepsakenow.

Memories can get twisted, details lost, details made up, or enhanced.  The accuracy of every fact is really not as important as the flavor of the memory and the love that you share by showing your family that you care.

# Seven -- Preserve what you have!

Put what you have in a fireproof box and maybe scan a copy on your computer to be preserved. My brother, Andy, introduced me to Dropbox.comto save and share old photos with the family

# Eight -- Start a closed Facebook or Google family page

to share old photos and memories so that everyone connected to that family can participate and enjoy the treasures of the past and share what is going in each other’s lives now.

My son, Patrick reminiscences about his grandmother and the little treasures in her china cabinet. She would talk to him about the significance of each special piece on the shelf which had a story of its own.

I never knew my grandparents.

One of my grandfather’s died in a mining accident long before I was born. Supposedly, I met my other grandparents, but I was too young. Or maybe they were too old. But, had they left something of themselves for me, I would still have treasured it. It would have been a connection to the past, a past that connected the dots that resulted in my being here today.

We were having tea with dessert one night when I was about ten. I asked Mom about her Irish grandparents. I wanted to know what she could tell me about her grandfather.

Mom hesitated and sighed. As I kept pressing her, she stopped and gave me one of those serious looks and said 

“You know, Margaret, there are some family stories that are better left unsaid.” “Left unsaid? What do you mean?”I asked. 

To this she replied: “Just leave it alone! You might find out things you don’t want to know.”Well I wonder what that meant! Now I really wanted to know!

But, more from Mom another time.

What do you think? Do you have a way to record the family legacy and stories of your life? Do you have a family tradition that helps to preserve memories in any way? Is it something you care about, or is it a bunch of rubbish?

[sawthefaeriequeen]

6, 14, 17, 20, 21, 35, 36!

6: Which book was the last one youreally, really loved?

Answered here!

14: Name a book where the movie/tvadaption actually was better than the original

 Ohhhh, I turned this over in my head a lot — Howl’s MovingCastle? But I liked that as much as theoriginal! It doesn’t count! Stardust? But I only read a little of the bookbecause I couldn’t connect with it! It’s not a fair comparison!

Then I remembered Stand By Me (adaptation of Stephen King’sThe Body) existed and all bets were off the table. :D

Don’t get me wrong, the book was good – I think Stephen Kingis a great writer even though I am a chicken and have read a grand total of twoof his books.  It’s good in a gritty,end-of-summery way and I loved his sensory prose. But the thing is it’s very muchframed as an older guy looking back at a time long gone.  There are jarring moments where Gordie  (main character) drops little bombs inadvance ala Death in Book Thief,  like“Teddy, what a crazy kid, man. Oh, by the way? He didn’t make it very far inlife. Anyway, on to the story of  ouradventure��”

And that’s okay! That’s how some stories are told! I justprefer how the movie told this story,where the four boys’ adventure is front and center, where you can watchchildhood innocence being lost’ as it’shappening, and  you don’t have theretrospective view of older!Gordie.

Another thing, the movie is a lot more, well, tender with  the characters.  They’re a lot more demonstrative andaffectionate with each other. The book-to-movie transition of the characterswas pretty faithful (and all the kids’ acting is so good!), except they madeGordie more fragile and introverted. Which actually served the story better. Because it’s so much moresatisfying , then, that the movie makes Gordie more proactive, and changes itup so that it’s he who saves the day and saves Chris (aka the gallant tough-guyBFF who is the one in this role, in the book).

I think the very last one is why I prefer the movie,honestly. Even Stephen King said “wow, I should’ve thought of that!” when hesaw it.

17: If you owned a bookshop whatwould you call it?

Lol, probably a bad pun with my name in it. I mean, justlook at my Goodreads name.

20: Bestsummer read?

Hah, so Ihave this unapologetic thing for contemporary YA summer books. I unabashedlylove Sarah Dessen (especially the books that take place in the beach town,Colby), and the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants (although not the last one,which made the old, crinnge-y mistake of thinking ‘adult’ meant dark and miserable).

I alsopicked up The Unexpected Everything by Morgan Matson last year because she wasdoing a signing here and I figured, eh why not. I’m really glad I did becausethat book had all the ingredients for my ideal summer book which were 1) girl goingsoul-searching and finding fulfillment, 2) romance I can get invested in, withactually-lovable nerd love interest  4)All sorts of shenanigans that make you wish you were right there, and 4) FRIENDSHIP – a strong group of lady friends,and a couple of guy friends too (and her love interest gets seamlessly integratedin the friend group, which was particularly delightful!), 5) Strong familybonding. # 5 was particularly nice in thisbook because usually, in the Summer Books, they only come to anunderstanding with their Estranged Family Member* at the end of the story. Here,she and her dad start actively repairing their relationship almost midwaythrough the book, and it’s great.  

*there isalmost always one!

21: Best winter read?

Oooh, okay, so I lovewinter books because obviously I live in a place without any snow at all. Sogrowing up, everything about wintery settings seem like a completely magicaluniverse* to me and I always devoured the obligatory ‘snow books’ thatcame in Sweet Valley, Baby-Sitters Club, American Girl etc. I mean, my favoritechildhood coloring book was one about the Arctic Circle.

Anyway, my favorite of those was The Bobbsey Twins At Snow Lodge. Such a delightfulwish-fulfillment  book, that one.  Some of the highlights:

1)     The obligatory mystery was set in this tiny cozycabin battered by snowstorms and the twins all had to spend Christmas there! Mybb id was so pleased at all the loving descriptions of wind howling and crazycold snow falling because in tiny!me’s head, they were sort of like the typhoons we get all the time, except excitinglydifferent.

2)     Of course, by the awesomeness of coincidence,their two cousins had to get away from their parents for Christmas too, becausePlot Reasons, and the Bobbseys are only too glad to take them in. “We can havea cousin Christmas!” I played with my cousins almost every weekend at thattime, and I thought that was most excellent.

3)     Copious and charming descriptions of hotchocolate, of a grandfatherly guy who drove an actual sleigh around town givingpresents to children, of having dress-up parties because there was nothing todo (and I loved that, because we did that too!), of a secret undergroundpassage that of course was  connected to the cabin, and of an oldfashioned Christmas where you had to hand-makeyour presents for your loved ones. I was so charmed.

4)     Back to the hot chocolate, because seriously. Inone of the scenes where the twins are fighting a sudden snowstorm to get backto their  cabin (which was another thing that pleased my tiny id.Because parents totally let their 7-12 year old children go boating and hikingby themselves all the time, yup) theyhave to take a break and so they take shelter under a convenient tree. And oneof the cousins whips out a freaking chocolate bar and melts snow  using a thermos and a convenient lighter andmakes hot chocolate right then and there for all of them to enjoy. I was all D:D: D: hot chocolate that wasn’t Milo or chocolate balls (which, cacaofarming  is/was a thriving business in myhometown )?! What sorcery is this?!

(And um yes, at some point I tried that trick with a candleand a chocolate bar. It did not work and I was Sad.)

*even the Madeleine L’Engle one where Vicky is trapped on anisland in Antarctica! And that one Sweet Valley where they have to fight forsurvival in an ice cave! And the one where the Baby-sitters are getting creepedby a stalker in a ski lodge. Because hey, I always I knew they’d survive and atleast it wasn’t happening to me.

35: Name a book you consider to beterribly underrated

Answered here!

 36: Name a book you consider to beterribly overrated

It kind of pains me to say, but whatI’ve read of the Lynburn books by Sarah Rees-Brennan.

 I wanted to like it! Her Demon series totally appealed me on a viscerallevel with its characters and the relationships between them (even though I willbe the first to admit that it’s really flawed as well). And the Lynburn series was set in a mysterious town with a spooky old house to be investigated –  it had a similar setting to so many adventurebooks I loved as a kid and a teen; it shouldhave been catnip to me.

 And yet I felt lie SR  was trying TOO much to pile the quirk andWhedon-esque dialogue on, to the point that they piled and piled and thecharacters did NOT feel like characters to me. They felt like caricatures. And therewere all the yay-ain’t-I-clever moments that threw me out of the story becausethat can’t possibly be realistic – likethe scene where the dad leaves her with Jared (who he doesn’t even know) in her room and all Dad can sayis wisecrack, wisecrack, wisecrack and he leaves them both for the night? Sorrybut no way an Asian parent is ever gonna act like that, EVER, no matter howcool they are.

 The thing that also really annoyedme is, it seems she gave all the big, juicy flaws to her male characters, andher female characters were just ‘quirkily nosy’ and ‘quirkily misanthropic ’but omg love them! Love them! Please love them, they’re awesome because I sayso! Eyeroll.  Just…eh, lady, do you nottrust me to love a girl character with huge flaws?

 Lastly, I quit in the second book becauseI kept seeing exchanges like this, which… say what you will about MaggieStiefvater, but she is still way better at writing a realistic woke teenager.For example, I like that scene where Blue tells off the condescending old guy (withAdam quietly supporting) because her dialogue doesn’t seem to me so darn contrivedand Tumblr-post-perfect as SR’s above. Those scenes were all over the place and they just threw me out of the book. As in, I stopped reading.

 And okay, people love this series alot, maybe for the same reasons I dislike what I’ve read of it. That’s cool . Ijust get a bit bristly when it’s touted as soooo much better than herprevious  one, because for me, sometimesless is more.

[elizabethcustodio]

THE BOY WHO SAVED ME - a short story (ENGLISH)

The clock was ticking. Honestly, it was an unbearable sound.

The rain outside was so heavy I could swear soon enough all the streets would become rivers, and the cars would become sailing boats.

If only I could sail away.

For too long I thought about this moment. For too long I dreaded it too. It was almost like the weather could understand my fear and sing away with it. Theo was behind the counter, trying to pretend he was not checking up on me every five minutes while he attended arriving customers. I was already on my third cup of coffee, I could feel the shivers all around my body, my blood was fireworks making me burn but nobody could see it.

When he walked in, I was fifteen years old all over again. The poor and lonely high school kid who ate lunch in bathroom stalls and dreamed about one day getting out of that high school hell. The invisible girl nobody ever noticed - I might as well had been a ghost so people would just walk right through me rather than constantly bump into me and say “sorry, didn’t see you there”. It was a debate I always carried on with me during those years - I’d rather be invisible already than to not be but still, people couldn’t see me.

Loch was the first one who really saw me. Although it took him a while. We had been in the same history class since middle school but he never really paid attention. Back when we were ten years old, in my first day of fourth grade, people were picking up on me because of my parents.

You see - I have two mothers. And I can’t remember a time when I hadn’t had two mothers. My bio mom came out of the closet when I was still in her oven. The bio dad abandoned both of us - said that she had been making a fool of him all three years they’d been together and took off to Italy. I received paychecks every month from him but that was it. Never met the guy in person. And I never wanted to. Bio mom met heart mom when I was almost turning one. And they got married when I was five (yes, I was the bridesmaid for heart mom!).

But anyways, they were picking up on me. And than Loch showed up. No, he didn’t ask them to stop. He didn’t intervene, actually. But I was really thankful for him that day. Loch was late, so when he showed up for class, all the kids turned their attention to him and to his awesome Nintendo 3DS. He literally stole the attention from me. Loch made me invisible rather than a freak show.

The town’s library was open 24/7 and it was right in the corner of my house, so I practically lived there during all four years of high school. One day in junior year, I was walking back home late at night when I glimpsed the other side of the street to see Loch sitting on my porch steps, which I thought it was odd:

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“No,” he said, quietly.

Loch was with his head down, shoulders shrunk and elbows resting on his knees.

“Well, can I at least get inside?” I raised my brows.

“Oh!” he raised his voice, surprised “I am sorry, this is your house,” he continued, coming to his senses about where he was.

Loch just looked so… lost. In both his mind and place.

“Sort of” I answered as he got up to let me pass.

“Sorry again” he repeated it, and I could tell by the tone of his voice that something was off.

I was thinking about just getting inside and letting him out there, dealing with whatever trouble he had, but something inside me snapped. So, as I reached the top of my steps I turned my head back to him:

“Are you sure you don’t need help with anything?”

“Why’d you assume that?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Because you were sitting in a stranger’s porch steps” I gestured to exhibit the steps of my porch.

“Good argument” replied him, still with his mind somewhere else. Loch stared for a while towards the streets and the lights, possibly considering where he’d go next. I assumed he didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“C’mon Loch, get inside. I’ll make hot chocolate” I offered him. Heart mom always told me nobody can refuse a good cup of hot chocolate.

“Wait, wait, wait” he pointed at me whilst shaking his head “how do you know my name?” he looked astonished.

“I’m Julietta. I have History with you since middle school” For a minute, I had forgotten I was invisible.

“Julietta…” Loch made a face, trying to remember.

“Don’t bother. Just C’mon in” I shook my shoulders and opened the door for him. Loch debated a while, but heart mom was right: nobody refuses a good cup of hot chocolate.

That night was the beginning. That night, we didn’t go to sleep and we skipped school the next day. We talked and talked and talked. I found out why Loch was so upset - his parents were getting divorced. He told me about how he just started wandering through town without actually knowing where to go, and then he got tired and just needed to sit down - hence my porch steps. It was so sudden, he said, Loch was just trying to gain some perspective. He searched in his mind for signs that he could’ve missed but nothing came up. And than Loch and I shared some thoughts on school - I told him about my status as invisible. I shared about how he stole the attention from me - and I thanked him - which made him laughed and reply “you’re welcome”.

Loch told me about his friends and his life. How his father was British and had met his mother in a cruise down in the Caribbean sea fifteen years ago, and how they always looked happy. The boy told me about how his parents looked so much in love, it was almost cheesy. He felt tricked and angry. I comforted him.

It went on to talk about dreams and the future. He told me about his dream to be a journalist. I told him I wanted to do animation. We shared what were our favorite movies, series, books. We talked about pretty much everything.

And the next day in school… he came to me. Loch didn’t pretend the night and day before didn’t exist, which I was expecting him to do. Instead, he asked me if I wanted to join him and his friends for lunch. Stuttering, I said “S-sure”.

Loch became my best friend. His friends became my friends as well. They dragged me to my first party. I had my first beer. First hangover. First cigarette. First time breaking rules. First time having fun. First summer job. First time falling in love with a boy - that no, it wasn’t Loch. I never liked Loch like that. First kiss. First time. First heartbreak.

Those guys became my family. Loch. Theo. Sean and Evan.

When high school was over, I cried. Those guys had turned my life around. I wasn’t invisible anymore, and I wasn’t the freak show either. I was just a girl with friends. And I had the time of my life with them. It was the end of an era. I went to NYU for my Animation degree. Evan went to community college in his grandparent’s hometown. Theo took a gap year in France. Sean stayed in town. And Loch moved to London to live with his father.

Now I was 29 years old, feeling fifteen. Feeling lonely and lost. Although I had everything I felt like a huge chunk of my being was ripped off of me. Theo was literally behind me - he was now doing his Master’s degree and working a part-time job in this cafeteria to pay for his studies. I was working in freaking Pixar Animation Studios. Evan was getting married in December. Sean was about to be a father. Loch was supposed to be covering this amazing fashion show in Milan for Vogue magazine, where he was working for the last couple of years.

But he crashed his car. And now he was dead.

The boy who nineteen years ago saved me from being a middle school joke was now dead. The boy who thirteen years ago turned my life around was now dead. The boy who introduced me to these other boys who were now my family was now dead. Fifty percent of everything that I was I owned to Loch, the other fifty to my moms, and now I was just missing. I was only a piece of the broken heart. The other piece Loch took with him to his grave.

So when Loch’s father walked into the coffee shop, I just felt stripped down. The boy who gave me my life didn’t exist anymore so how was I supposed to keep living this life that wasn’t mine anymore? It didn’t belong to this part of me.

“Hello, Julietta,” Mr. Jackson said to me and then turned his eyes to look over my shoulder “Theo, how are you?”

“Hello, Mr. Jackson,” Theo said it first “Trying to be fine”.

“I think we all are” he answered and turned to rest his eyes again on mine “And how are you, dear?”

“I don’t know” I replied “I…”

“I know,” Mr. Jackson said, pulling a chair for himself and sitting down “I feel it too”.

“It’s just not right,” I said it.

“Life sometimes can get it wrong too, dear”.

“It didn’t have to be with Loch!” I spat the words in anger. I was surprised with myself. I could tell Theo had stopped what he was doing and was now staring at me.

“But it was” Mr. Jackson simply replied. I was always surprised about how old British people always sounded calm and wise “and now all we have to do is to mourn, accept and move on”.

“How can I move on, Mr. Jackson?” I asked “If it weren’t for Loch, I wouldn’t be here today. I…”.

“You don’t say that” Mr. Jackson interrupted me “Loch just gave you a little push, but the rest was all on you”.

I took a deep breath, trying to sink in his words.

Loch’s father was always a wise man. When we were in our senior year, the guys and I had nicknamed him Mr. Jackson Dumbledore. After the divorce, he went back to London - where he originally was from - but every time he came to visit his son, he’d always give him - and us - the best advises in literally everything. Also, it couldn’t have been any other way. Mr. Jackson was a therapist. A renowned therapist -might I add.

“So, have you given any thoughts?” he asked me after a while.

“I still think there are some better people… Theo…”

“I’m not doing it” Theo interrupted from behind the counter “I already told you, Jules. It has to be you”.

“Why me?” I cried.

“Because.”

“That’s not an answer!”

“Oh, great. We are five years old again” Theo rolled his eyes.

“Because he was your best friend. And you were his”. Mr. Jackson tried to explain.

“But the guys… if not Theo…”

“Jules” Theo interrupted again “We were all friends. But the best friends were you two. There’s no doubt about that. You remember when you two met? Loch was going through hell and neither of us were there for him except you… who was not even his friend at that time! You two are Loch and Jules. Like peanut butter and jelly. Stop denying it. You know why it has to be you”.

I knew.

I took a deep breath again and this time I was closing my eyes. Picturing, in my mind’s eye, Loch’s laugh. How his dimples appeared every time he smiled. His brown eyes and his freckles. His idiotic combat boots and his funny south park t-shirt. How he was gold in a grey world. How he was everything to me. My hook. My stone. My anchor.

And he deserved the best. Only I could give him that.

I opened my eyes. I didn’t even noticed Theo walking past me to stand behind Mr. Jackson’s shoulder.

“Fine,” I finally said “I’ll write Loch’s eulogy. And I’ll read it out loud at his funeral. He deserves it. My best friend deserves everything in this world”.