#i go to my local one sooo often but just popped into one i used to go to all the time in uni and WAH

[inkmaze]

I should not be let loose in asian supermarkets by myself, I am just too tempted

[husbandhoshi]

OK strap in fellas..... if this is the last thing i do on tumblr dot com i will be satisfied. reading cat's writing is my life's purpose /SERIOUS. also just look at the synopsis like isnt this just something u wanna dig into...like a ripe watermelon.... ok anywho review under the cut as per usual <3 also if yall dont read this fic. CANCELED!

His first day on the job, someone (you think it was the girl who pretended she couldn’t swim) had spilled that local hottie Kim Mingyu was working shifts as a lifeguard at this hidden beach, and no less than twenty-four hours after, googly-eyed teenagers (and single moms) ready to take in the latest local attraction began populating his shifts. And unfortunately, the googly-eyed teenagers just happened to include your best friend, meaning you were spared no solace from the presence of your worst enemy.

sorry this paragraph is so good! it sets up the conflict sooo well and i like all the fun little descriptors. the paragraphs before set the scene perfectly but i think this one is extra good at conveying yn's voice and her disdain for gyu!!

“Annoying?” you pitch in, popping a strawberry in your mouth. “Obnoxious? Tacky? Unnecessary?” “Dreamy…” she finishes, a long glance drifting to his lifeguard tower. You can practically see the hearts coming from her eyes. Her head snaps to you, finally registering your interruption. “What do you mean unnecessary…” She’s incredulous. “He’s serving his community! Protecting the local beachgoers!”

I LOVEEEE the dialogue in this fic. like i LOVE IT idc idc its corny in the best way possible. and it's FUNNY! like so often dialogue will Try Too Hard to be funny but i think this is soo camp and effortless like this whole exchange. also i love non-twice chaeyoung and i want her to be my friend!

"I'd 'accidentally' make my way into the deep end—suddenly I can't swim, I've ingested too much water and by the time Mingyu's able to rescue me…" she trails off, turning to you with starry eyes. "He gives me mouth-to-mouth…" "He'd break your ribs with chest compressions." Chaeyoung places a hand on your arm, grave. "It would be worth it."

yea like this is perfect. it's giving teen beach romance!!!!!!

Some girl in the distance, too busy watching Mingyu, trips over her little brother and faceplants into the water.

me! she is me

He still never returned that pen you let him borrow in English that one time during senior year. So no, you really don't get all the hype around him. 

the fact that yn and mingyu have backstory is so fun to me! like i do think it makes the fact that she doesn't like him wayyy more plausible than just deciding to hate someone for being hot

"Catching waves again?" Mingyu asks, and if it weren't for your crippling desire to not make enemies with people who don't reciprocate the same animosity, you would have given him a sarcastic gesture to the surfboard in your arms and a dry "what do you think?" to accompany it.

finally a non-ridiculously combative yn <3

Seungkwan is unconvinced. Unimpressed, even. “Yeah? Who, the fish you surf with?”

i loveeeee bestie seungkwan idc idc idc! i love that the side characters here feel like HOME!!!! the dialogue is so fun and natural and familiar

BOO SHAVE ICE U WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS TO ME!!!!

It’s Mingyu. With his gaudy board shorts always an inch too short, his button up shirt with too few buttons actually used, his toes exposed in flip-flops just to top it all off. Like you needed your day to get worse.

dick: out. dogs: exposed. ice: shaved

All of your friends are uncaring of the torment this man adds to your mortal coil, you lament. Maybe Seungkwan was right, maybe you should start finding some new friends on the incoming freshman Instagram page.

yn is so funny and real for this

“You’re going to California for school next year, right?” Mingyu asks, eyes brightening. “Congrats on that, by the way! It’s not every day you hear about someone local going out of state for college. Are you gonna keep surfing when you’re there?” “I, um—” you make a quick glance at Seungkwan—how long does it take to make a single shave ice—and his eyes meet yours, catching your silent cry for help.

this exchange is like perfect in establishing that weird tense conversation you have w people you run into in the wild and do NOT want to be talking to. also i think u characterize mingyu perfectly as likeeeee. local kind boy that is so kind you kind of hate him for it.

“Was it because he brought up surfing when you—” “Seungkwan.” 

this part is crazy bc it really is giving like. the moment when a teen tv show gets spicy and you realize there's like way more under the surface.

The bell jingles, and a smile plasters on your face again. Like truth, like habit.

ok Poet this line is MENTAL like i am probably stealing that for another fic (/j but u kno what i mean)

“I like this one,” you point, handing the phone back to her. “I’ll just post that.”

yn is soooo simple but not in a bad way she's just. she's pragmatic but has a lot boiling under the surface and i think it's a nice complement to mingyu who is like simple in the way that he wears his heart on his sleeve but ultimately just lives and let lives. idk if this makes any sense but like i think it's a nice dynamic.

im not grabbing anything from the dialogue in this part but just KNOWWW that i lvoe it like it reads brilliantly it's like a movie!! too often im writing dialogue and the She Said and He Replied and whatevers feel so tedious and stick out soo much but this part rlly is just . chefs kiss. effortless and fun and lived in!

also im a joshua hong possessive stan. ACTUALLY medicine store joshua hong is with ME.....

and again the soonyoung tiger slander never stops. will he ever be able to escape the furry allegations.

There’s an unwritten rule, put into play ever since Chaeyoung moved back to the island after four years away: to not mention the future. As trivial as it may have seemed, it was important. To two kids between the cusp of childhood and adulthood, you wanted to at least have somewhere you didn’t have to worry about anything the world threw at you, where you could just be yourselves.

starts biting ur ankles.... like the youthful dialogue. the way they keep skirting around talking abt capital C college. talking abt boys to avoid talking abt the future. Okay u were cooking!!!

“Ah, well, I heard the waves would be pretty good today. And you know me,” you respond awkwardly, gaze slipping down to the board at his side. “Always itching to ride the best waves.” Mingyu laughs at that, carding a hand through his hair, wet tips already starting to curl at the ends. “Yeah, I remember. You used to skip first period all the time when the surf was good. Mrs. Kim ended up giving up on you showing up for class during surfing season as long as you would make up the work later.”

yn is sooooo endearing like baby it's just a conversation..... and mingyu always Entrenched in the past. yn scared of the future and mingyu always looking back.... miley cyrus voice What Does It Mean

“Yeah, but, I don’t know,” he fumbles hastily, trying to think of the right words to say. “I wouldn’t really say I surf though,” Mingyu settles on eventually, and the word carries a weight you’re unfamiliar with. “Not like you.”

huuuuu its like how do u hate mingyu when hes just sooooo lame.....

Because the way Mingyu talks about surfing is unfamiliar to almost everything you thought you knew about him—like you’ve stumbled across something you weren’t supposed to see, like you’ve accidentally dug a nail into the soft skin of a tangerine with the secrecy he’s asked of you.

no right. bc it's easy to not like someone on the surface but when they unpeel like that it almost feels like u owe it to them to be gentle.... also the citrus metaphor to end the scene OK crazy !!!!!!!!!

So you bite down your objections about the festivities your dad insists on hosting, try to match your mom’s enthusiasm for DIY dorm decor and tourist destinations around campus, and let your parents enjoy what’s left of the summer with the child they’ve grown to know.

i already said this in the dms but yn is so woke for this like i think it's such a nice glimpse into her world of like. Good Daughtering. of family and duty and sacrifice. there's such a netted community here from the friendships that yn has to the people that she knows and her connection to the land and now her Family that the sense of loss becomes that much deeper!!!!!

"Oh I'm, um, not." Everyone at the table goes quiet. You push around the extra fried rice your auntie had scooped onto your plate. It tastes like sawdust. "Bringing it to California, I mean."

nooo i hate when fictional food tastes bad bc it rlly means things are getting heated

The heat of everyone’s gaze bores into you, but all you can think of is the wood paneling peeling on the side of the house, the cabinets that your parents never got around to replacing even after the past termite infestation left them eroded and worn, the pictures and decorations your mom picked out and places purposefully on the walls to cover up the bits of chipping paint.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO not the descriptors....... yn is just a cog and home is the clock!!!!!!

And you want too, of course you do—what person doesn’t? But ‘want’ is a thing of privilege, you’ve grown to accept. An object of desire for those who can afford it.

THE YOKE OF DUTY IS HEAVY........LOW ARE THE SHOULDERS OF THOSE WHO MUST BEAR IT!!!!!!!!!!!!

if you know anyone else from the islands going there, if you’ve made friends yet, to not hesitate if you miss anything from home because she’ll send a care package and all you can hear is the muffled roaring of ocean waves and seafoam at your fingertips and god you can’t do this.  ...

(Waves crashing on rocks. Sand troughs at the bottom of the ocean. Seafoam. Everything you love, everything you have to let go of.) You drive.

Things flood your mind in short bursts yet all at once—care packages and chipping paint and scholarship funds and that look on your parents’ face when you told them you’d gotten into the business program and shit you just want to make them proud and pay them back for everything they’ve done and— “Y/N! Hey, the beach is closing soon where are you—”

the pacing of these parts is excellent. that is all. yn surfing and falling is like so wonderfully executed that i cant pick a part to grab!

ALSO the first time i never noticed she broke her surfboard??? the metaphor is now Layered?????????? like the old board is the way things were, her old ways and hopes and expectations and perception of those around her... her literal YOUTH. and in a way it IS tying her down ... a wonderful inescapable vice..... so then when she gets a new one at the end it rlly is a new beginning :')

The flush of embarrassment heats in your chest as you think more about it—the fact that you of all people would have to be rescued like this, that you would wipe out this severely on a wave and routine this simple, something you had regarded innate like clockwork.

i think u added this after i betaed but excellent add it makes perfect sense and im w her!!!!

The question is asked calmly, maybe even with a little underlying heat in it, but you think you would have preferred if he was just angry at you.

right bc its like i said earlier. how do u hate someone so nice.

Mingyu knocks over a first-aid kit and stubs his toe onto the desk, stifling a whimper as he continues to hobble around “—I am so sorry please don’t cry—”

HE IS SO MF STUPID. HOW IS HE RESCUING PEOPLE .... and yn saying that its just a slice of normalcy.... like so true. mingyu who will remind her of the past and simpler times and how good she is at surfing... again just figuratively ///and/// literally pulling her from the stormy tide........

your eyes drift to the mole on the cusp of his jaw, the second on the tip of his nose. You wonder why you'd only noticed them now.

i audibly said AWOOO? like the sudden intimacy???

(blink—blink—stay)

ok this ate. like it severely ate. also im not grabbing any of this next scene bc there's too much but i love goofy ass imaginary chaeyoung and stinky mingyu..... Real. all of it is so REAL.

Your face falls; Mingyu catches it the moment it does.

ok i lied abt not grabbing anymore but come on the DOUBLE MEANING ........

The little hula girl bobblehead on Mingyu’s dashboard wobbles to the tropical tunes playing through the stereo. 

idk i love this detail it makes the world so real!!!!

But even with its newly refurbished furniture and what Mingyu says to be freshly installed hardwood flooring, as you wander through the house, you realize it shows its age through the people living within it—the worn soles on his mother’s slippers that you’d borrowed, the gallery of pictures frames scattered across the hallway walls, scuffs on the family table you could only imagine came from old, infamous Mingyu mishaps.

nooo bc i love this part soooo much. the things yn points out abt her own house (how run down it is) versus the things she points out abt mingyu's house???? she doesn't say it but it feels like a weird marker of distance between them, of another way they're Different. HE doesn't have the same chain to duty that she does. but then later when they find common ground...

His home wasn’t so different from yours, you think, when it boiled down to it. Beneath all the polished wood and marble countertops was just a place that stored memories, love told through marks of youth and increments of time.

see see then there's this part. likeee they're different but not So different. also mingyu grandpa GILF?

She pokes at him with the butt of her pencil, teasing. “How could I not—you come here too much.”

idk i liek how everyone knows each other it rlly does make the world feel lived in!!!

Maybe it’s the clatter of the kitchen cleaning up and the warm, yellow light of the diner that allows your shoulders to drop; or maybe, maybe— (You’ll be gone in a month, anyway. By the time you’re back, it’ll be winter, and you’ll come back to the eternal sunny skies, and this will all be behind you. But when the wound is still fresh and the sea salt still stings too much to tell the difference between honesty and shame, you allow yourself to indulge in your selfishness a little more tonight.)

this part ate you are so good at finding ways to pace yn's thought process and it's so natural and emotive. also the SEA SALT !!! literal poetry

not grabbing any of this next part bc like i cannot pick a good representative part bc the dialogue is so real and good that no little snip will do it justice. but i do like how the tone is balanced by the comedic relief of hayoung & co. it keeps it light enough as a romcom without it getting too unserious. also mingyu therapy ! mingyu therapy. what i said abt him wearing his heart on his sleeve vs yn keeping it all locked up... Yeah. bc there's something to learn from all the earnestness!!!

His desire to return the love given to him, the same steady weight of home that’s been like an anchor to him, all this time. It’s in him as much as it is in you.

exactly. Exactly!!!

Scrolling further down the notifications, you also find a single desperate email that Seungkwan sent to you at 8AM. (Subject: WAKE UP!!!!)

stop see i think this fic is so excellently paced bc its never in the weeds for TOO long like we are back to my two favorite clowns at the circus. also rizzard of oz like if this were a book this is one of the quotes on the jacket .... idc idc im right. the main trio continues to be my favorite FAVORITE favorite thing in the whole world

That night, it had just been you and Mingyu and the weight of everything you still couldn’t face, but now in the sun, the cold sea-chilled wind was now the warmth of daylight on your skin, all the things you had taken for granted given to you again.

character growth... like none of it is ever really gone. the ocean always has open arms!!!!

“As much as I would love to agree,” you blink, focusing mostly on dragging your gaze above his bare chest (his eyes are up there), “I really think you’re the only one that could pull that off.”

im screaming for them im cheering for them yn infinite rizz

And no matter how you try to convince yourself that you’ve long grown past that little girl in the photo, you know that she’ll always be a part of you, especially to your parents. The people who would gently blow on your barely-bleeding scratches and scrapes, the ones that would always be ready with a towel and your favorite snack every time you would come back to shore, dripping wet with fists clenched and tears brimming in your eyes. They would always be there with open arms, waiting until you were ready to come to them.

no bc the love rlly RADIATES from this fic......there is something magical abt the prose where its like. SOOOOOO well-loved like a smooth little stone u keep in ur pocket. it's all the little knick-knacks and details and secrets woven into it that it feels REAL like yn is real to me idc

i dont have anything to say abt the next part that ISNT related to my parental trauma but all i can say is FIC AS THERAPY! FIC AS THERAPY! and the new board!!! what did i say!!! new board new you!!!!

It falls into a smooth rhythm, one you come to expect every single day, the same rhythm that has you up in the early morning, sitting on your board as the ocean waves sway you gently atop the water. The sky washes a pale blue, a band of orange barely visible over the edge of the horizon. It’s a familiar sight, one you’ve become accustomed to ever since you’ve made it a habit to come to the beach every Saturday morning. ...

(The sunrise colors the sky in a peach-gold glow, and you follow the scattering of light across the water to meet Mingyu at the center of it all. There’s a fondness you can’t describe, but a feeling you understand all the same; the way the sight of the horizon and the sky and the ocean means love, the way it means home.) —you think you’ll miss Kim Mingyu the most.

huuu i love epilogue paragraphs.... routine....rubs my tummy like im winnie the pooh... but really i think the way that mingyu is tied into like surfing and routines and mornings and home is so masterful bc it rlly is like mingyu is a piece of home. he's patient and understanding and wise and warm and all the things yn is scared to leave behind (Read: like surfing and her friends and her family) but Also like the ending isn't really an ending. mingyu is traveling and yn is still surfing in california and all of the love is stil there jus Repackaged. LIKE THE SURFBOARD! this makes no sense but it makes sense to ME and that's all that matters.

anyway thank u for coming to my ted talk. i feel like this is a perfect little piece of summer and its perfect parts funny and heartwarming and healing. i know i keep saying this but it genuinely feels like it comes to life and there are so many fun details and pieces of yn's personality woven into this that it Does feel like home! it is something truly well-worn and well-loved and feels so real!!!! it is just full of heart and i love it for that!!!!! idk what more there is to say that hasn't been said. all the things u worried abt i feel like are actually the strength of the fic and i love how youthful BUT nuanced it is. idk! u are an amazing writer and a genre master. PERIOD! loved seeing this get put together and i loved reading it more <333

☼ dayglow

pairing: mingyu x f!reader

wc: ~19k

synopsis: in which it's the summer before college, the new lifeguard is a pain in your ass, and you just want to have fun surfing before you have to leave it all behind.

notes: lifeguard!mingyu, surfer!reader, brief one-sided enemies-to-lovers, summer-before-college!au, netflix coming-of-age romcom coded, set in hawaii, special thanks to @husbandhoshi for helping me with the finishing touches mwah <3

It’s the sign of summer—water glistening in midday sunlight, loud chatter from families with beach blankets and baskets ready for a relaxing day out, people littered throughout the expanse of sand ready to sunbathe their vacation time away. Sun and sea salt, what more could you ask for?

A lot, apparently. And quite frankly, you think it’s ridiculous.

It’s almost unfair how the cards have so ruthlessly turned against your favor, especially on what you consider your turf. As hard to believe as it may be, especially with the current…state of things, your favorite beach used to be quiet before this summer. The only activity you would really see would be an occasional elderly couple taking their evening walks along the sand or rare sparse picnic blankets spread out for a quiet sunset date. Even the seabirds didn’t cause much of a ruckus here.

That was until him—the bane of your existence, the unwitting source of all your social migraines, the tragic end to your peaceful solitude: Kim Mingyu.

Apparently, spending his summer as a beach lifeguard was of the utmost importance to him, and with his grandpa as the previous lifeguard for the past decade, getting employed at this particular beach was basically guaranteed. Not much to complain about, in concept, just a guy fresh out of high school looking for a quick, easy buck—you respect it, even. But when his idea of ‘summer fun’ comes at the expense of your own peace and quiet, you think it’s only reasonable that his name leaves a distaste in your mouth.

His first day on the job, someone (you think it was the girl who pretended she couldn’t swim) had spilled that local hottie Kim Mingyu was working shifts as a lifeguard at this hidden beach, and no less than twenty-four hours after, googly-eyed teenagers (and single moms) ready to take in the latest local attraction began populating his shifts. And unfortunately, the googly-eyed teenagers just happened to include your best friend, meaning you were spared no solace from the presence of your worst enemy.

“I just think he’s so…” Chaeyoung sighs, hand under her chin as she lays sprawled on the beach blanket. You think she would start kicking her feet if it wasn’t so unbecoming to do outside of the privacy of her bedroom. “So…”

“Annoying?” you pitch in, popping a strawberry in your mouth. “Obnoxious? Tacky? Unnecessary?”

“Dreamy…” she finishes, a long glance drifting to his lifeguard tower. You can practically see the hearts coming from her eyes. Her head snaps to you, finally registering your interruption. “What do you mean unnecessary…” She’s incredulous. “He’s serving his community! Protecting the local beachgoers!”

“Exactly, this is a beach,” you point out, gesturing around you. “What even happens here?” 

Chaeyoung sits up, passionate. “A lot!” she exclaims, hands gesturing in emphasis. “Rip currents! Heat strokes! Drowning kids…drowning kids!”

You look at her plainly. “You know none of that happened here before Mingyu came along.” The last lifeguard spent his time falling asleep on the tower balcony, sunscreen smeared on his nose and all.

“Exactly…” She leans in, eyes narrowed. “You know what, I think those single moms are telling their kids to fake-drown so that Mingyu will have to save them. I heard this lady tell her eight-year-old she’d buy him malasadas if he went into the deep end.”

“Chaeyoung.”

“What! It’s true…" She ponders a little, shifting the sunglasses on top of her head. "They're definitely onto something though. Do you think I—"

"Chaeyoung."

"It would be the perfect opportunity!" Chaeyoung clasps her hands together, voice dreamy as she imagines it in her head. "I'd 'accidentally' make my way into the deep end—suddenly I can't swim, I've ingested too much water and by the time Mingyu's able to rescue me…" she trails off, turning to you with starry eyes. "He gives me mouth-to-mouth…"

"He'd break your ribs with chest compressions."

Chaeyoung places a hand on your arm, grave. "It would be worth it."

You can’t even control the utterly exasperated sigh that escapes you, pinching the bridge of your nose as you reach for another strawberry. “What do you even see in him anyway?” You wrinkle your nose, feeling yet another Mingyu-induced migraine coming. “He’s not all that.”

"Yes he is!" Chaeyoung insists, waving the tiny fruit fork at you. "He's hot, he's well-mannered, he's good with kids, he's hot—"

"You said that already."

"It needs to be emphasized twice." This is serious business for Chaeyoung. "Have you even seen him?"

"Yes," you respond dryly, rolling your eyes, "and he's still not all that." You hold your hand out, counting down your fingers. "He takes this job way too seriously for one—"

"It shows dedication—"

"There is no job where he needs to be doing all…" you gesture to him up on that lifeguard tower sitting on that stupid stool of his—shirtless, binoculars strung around his neck, his red swim trunks an inseam inch too short. Insufferable. "...That. He probably does it on purpose."

Some girl in the distance, too busy watching Mingyu, trips over her little brother and faceplants into the water.

Chaeyoung shakes her head. "No way is he trying to look that hot."

"Of course he is," you retort. "Just look at the amount of sunscreen he wears." Mingyu downright glistens with the amount he puts on his body, only serving to accentuate his tanned, toned muscles. (You won't deny what's right in front of you, after all, but only to yourself. You would rather die than admit you find any part of him attractive out loud, especially to Chaeyoung.) It just has to be on purpose. 

"What does he even need that much for?" you add on, insistent. "He's up in that tower all damn day."

Chaeyoung lightly swats at you. "That just means he takes care of his skin…" she lets out another dreamy sigh. "Isn't it nice that he cares."

"That is just some guy."

Chaeyoung flops defeated onto the blanket. "You just think that because you knew him in high school."

Ah, yes. Kim Mingyu, fellow classmate for all four years of high school. Before he was the bane of your existence, he was just that kid you knew in homeroom, the boy who kept trying (and failing) to balance pencils on his nose, the centerpiece of the notorious sophomore year incident where he tipped back his chair too far back and crashed right as the vice-principal walked in for the monthly classroom evaluation, the kid who napped through most of your third period precalc classes because he couldn't, for the life of him, care about unit circles and piecewise functions. He still never returned that pen you let him borrow in English that one time during senior year.

So no, you really don't get all the hype around him. 

Chaeyoung is still off in her own little world. "Do you think he needs help putting on sunscreen? Or better yet, do you think he would help me put on my sunscreen—"

You let out a noise of dismay, reaching over to your bag and tossing a can of spray-on sunscreen over to her. "You can do it yourself."

She slaps a hand over her chest, wounded. "You're always so mean to me…" Chaeyoung wipes a fake tear, clutching onto the spray can. "Where is your sense of imagination, of romance?"

Standing up, you brush off stray sand from your bottom before you reach for your surfboard lying next to the blanket. "Sorry if I'm not delusional, Chaeyoung."

She grumbles your words under her breath, imitating your cadence and all, and she makes sure you catch all of it before you walk away. "'Delusional deshmusional,' no wonder you're single."

You send her an unamused look. She counters with a petty "Hmph," nose turned up in the air, then flips over to sunbathe. 

Rolling your eyes, you hoist your board up to your side and make your way towards the shore, expertly sidestepping the little kids playing tag, and you walk past Mingyu's lifeguard tower.

"Hey, Y/N," he calls down from above, a little smile and wave accompanying it. You squint up at him, a hand on your forehead to block the sun. You suddenly recall a past conversation with Chaeyoung, similar to all the conversations concerning Mingyu you have with your friend. 

("It's like when I look up at him he glows…"

You dryly retort back at the memory of your friend. That's just the sun blinding you.)

"Catching waves again?" Mingyu asks, and if it weren't for your crippling desire to not make enemies with people who don't reciprocate the same animosity, you would have given him a sarcastic gesture to the surfboard in your arms and a dry "what do you think?" to accompany it.

But Mingyu is nothing but earnest and unknowing, much to your chagrin, and you can sense his puppy-like desire to be friendly with an old high school classmate even through those obnoxious designer sunglasses he has sat on his nose. So you settle for thinly veiled politeness instead, nodding your head when you hum your confirmation. "Just the usual."

He grins at that, along with his standard "have fun!" and you give him a civil smile and thanks before making your way to the water. 

The waves lap at your feet the instant you arrive, sand between your toes, and you think you'll miss this when you leave. The ocean, the air, the people.

But if there's one thing you're certain of, you think, paddling further into the water. Kim Mingyu is not going to be a part of that list.

"So let me get this straight," Seungkwan says, agonized. "You're telling me you haven't even started sending in profiles for your incoming freshman class's Instagram?"

You're slow on the uptake, apparently. "Yes… Was I…supposed to?"

No amount of caricature drawings could truly encapsulate the horror in Seungkwan's face. "It's already August!"

“Again,” you repeat, leaning against the counter. Island music crackles quietly out of the old speaker in the corner of the room. “Why does it matter?”

“You leave at the beginning of September, which means there’s only a few more weeks until you’re up in the mainland all alone—in California, no less!” Seungkwan places a hand on your shoulder, pitying eyes looking you up and down. “You know you need all the help you can get making friends…”

“Hello?” you exclaim, dismayed. “I have friends!”

Seungkwan is unconvinced. Unimpressed, even. “Yeah? Who, the fish you surf with?”

“You literally just hung out with Chaeyoung last week.”

He dismisses your defense with a handwave and a shake of the head. “Chaeyoung doesn’t count, she’s the unfortunate product of childhood friend loyalty.”

You feel so wronged. “What about you?”

Seungkwan sighs dramatically, hand to his chest in faux sentiment. “I do have a knack for charity, don’t I…”

“Says the guy who practically begged me to work here with him so he wouldn’t be lonely on shift.”

Boo’s Shave Ice, the go-to local favorite, your place of employment for the past four summers ever since Seungkwan met you in freshman Racket Sports and dragged you up the rankings in Badminton King’s Court until you were reigning champions for the rest of the semester. He had claimed that working at his family’s shave ice place with him was payment for having him carry you all semester (not that you asked), but you figured having an easy place of employment for extra money towards college savings was always a good idea.

“I’m just saying,” Seungkwan insists, and you can almost sense a shred of sincerity in him. “Me and Chaeyoung aren’t gonna be there with you up there, Y/N. I’m worried.”

You let out a long sigh, and you’re about to open your mouth to retort some cliché reassurance you’ve parrotted a hundred times before when the bell jingles at the door. Your best customer service smile slips on your face and you turn to cheerfully greet the incoming customer. “Welcome to Boo’s Shave—” your breath hitches “—Ice.”

It’s Mingyu. With his gaudy board shorts always an inch too short, his button up shirt with too few buttons actually used, his toes exposed in flip-flops just to top it all off. Like you needed your day to get worse.

“Hey, man!” Seungkwan calls, extending his hand over the counter for a crisp handshake. All of your friends are uncaring of the torment this man adds to your mortal coil, you lament. Maybe Seungkwan was right, maybe you should start finding some new friends on the incoming freshman Instagram page. “What can I get for you?”

“Just the usual,” Mingyu responds, fishing out his wallet from his pocket. “With mochi this time.”

Seungkwan nods, reaching for the stack of paper bowls. “On it!”

While he gets to work with the three bottles of fruit syrup and freshly shaved ice in the bowl, you slink away to the cashier to check out Mingyu’s order. “Rainbow with condensed milk and mochi?”

“Yup,” he responds, grinning, his canines annoyingly sharp and obvious. You call out his price and spin the iPad around for him to insert his card, and while Mingyu waits for the payment to process he starts talking. “I saw you do that aerial yesterday,” he says, and you almost startle. “Very impressive.”

You almost want to be defensive about it, badger him on why he was watching you surf when there were clearly more people on that beach yesterday in need of his…attention. But you tamp it down, laughing awkwardly as you look to the side to check on Seungkwan’s progress before looking back at Mingyu. “Thanks, I…” Just what are you supposed to say to that. “Worked hard on it?”

Mingyu laughs, tapping on the screen before taking his card out. “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve heard a lot of highlights from Gramps about your old surf meets.”

Your smile tightens a little, heart squeezing at the mention. “Ah, yeah. The good old days.”

“You’re going to California for school next year, right?” Mingyu asks, eyes brightening. “Congrats on that, by the way! It’s not every day you hear about someone local going out of state for college. Are you gonna keep surfing when you’re there?”

“I, um—” you make a quick glance at Seungkwan—how long does it take to make a single shave ice—and his eyes meet yours, catching your silent cry for help.

“Your shave ice is ready, Mingyu!” Seungkwan exclaims loudly, half-slamming half-sliding it across the counter. “Have a nice day!”

“Oh,” Mingyu’s attention is successfully diverted, grabbing his bowl. “Thanks, man.” He turns, not before waving at you with his spare hand and a spoon in his mouth. “See you around, Y/N.”

You never thought the door jingle would be such a relieving sound until you heave out a long breath when the door closes, bracing your hands on the edge of the counter as you slump forward, eyes closed. Seungkwan’s presence looms over you, and you know he’s standing arms crossed and foot tapping without having to look.

“So,” he starts lightly. “What was all that about?”

Turning your head slowly to face him, Seungkwan has his lips tilted in a slight frown, forehead with a slightest crinkle of worry. “I know you’re not the biggest fan of him, but you’ve never gotten all tense like that before.” His frown deepens, opening his mouth to choose his words carefully. “Was it because he brought up surfing when you—”

“Seungkwan.” 

It slips out harsher than you mean it to, and you’re already fumbling over your words trying to pick up the pieces, but Seungkwan’s mouth snaps shut, apologies written all over his face. “Sorry,” he mumbles, fiddling with the rim of his plastic glove. “My bad.”

You make a small, pitiful noise, waving your hand to clear the air. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

Crackly island music continues playing through the speaker, air conditioning whirring loudly in the background. Seungkwan tries again, hesitant. “Are you okay, though?”

“Yeah.” Your chest is tight. You can’t breathe. “I’m fine. Look,” you nod your head to the family walking up to the store, chattering away excitedly. You can spot a tourist family from a mile away. “Customers are coming.”

The bell jingles, and a smile plasters on your face again. Like truth, like habit.

“Hi! Welcome to Boo’s Shave Ice—what can we get started for you today?”

The view of the beach was always best looking from above, you think. Feet dangling from the edge of the open back of your Jeep, you soak in the sound of the waves crashing into the rocks and the way the sun warms your skin as you sit parked on the beach lookout.

Chaeyoung swings her feet next to you, bikini top and denim shorts clad, peering over at your acai bowl before pointing with her spoon. Wordlessly, you tilt your bowl over, to which she takes a spoonful with a happy shoulder wiggle and a grin.

“So, what’s the verdict?” she asks, spoon in her mouth as she swipes through her phone gallery. “I think the first three are the best for posting, but also I don’t want to overlap pictures in our posts.” Chaeyoung taps a manicured finger on her chin, then nudges her phone at you. “Which ones do you want to post?”

You hum, swiping through the favorited pictures. The pictures themselves were nothing special, if you were being honest. Just the casual beach day poses and candids, but Chaeyoung had insisted on having as many pictures taken this summer as possible to keep as an archive before you had to leave.

“I like this one,” you point, handing the phone back to her. “I’ll just post that.”

“That’s it?” Chaeyoung questions, eyes wide. “But… but the slideshow…”

“You can post a slideshow,” you tease, taking a spoonful of her acai bowl. “You have all the rest to choose from.”

She pouts at you, taking a bite of her own food. "If you wanna be that way.”

“Send me all of the pictures though,” you add on. They’d be good to add into your collection of ‘The Summer Before College’ memories.

Chaeyoung rolls her eyes, scoffing. “Duh, I’m already on it. By the way, I heard from Seungkwan you were gonna send in a post to the freshman page?”

You groan, flopping back into the open space of the trunk. “Don’t even remind me, he was nagging me about sending one in all shift last weekend.” Spoon held with emphasis, you shake it in indignancy. “Did you know he said I didn’t have any friends?”

“Well, babe…”

“Et tu!”

She winces, and at least you can say she’s more apologetic about it than Seungkwan was. “Aw, don’t be like that. You know you take a while to warm up to people. Besides, I’m your friend!”

You turn over to your side, grumbling. “Seungkwan said that’s only because of childhood friend obligations.”

Chaeyoung blows it off with a small “psshh” and turns to lay down beside you, propping herself up on her arms. “Please, everyone knows that childhood friends have a four-year long-distance expiration date. And look,” she tucks her chin into her hands for extra effect. “I’m still here!”

“Bummer…”

Chaeyoung coos, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you onto your back again. “You know you love me. And Y/N,” she says, poking your cheek. “Stop being a worrywart.”

“I am not—”

“Yes you are,” she insists, bobbing her head. “See, you’re already developing wrinkles right here—” a thumb presses between your furrowed brows “—and college hasn’t even started yet!” Chaeyoung sighs, fretting. “No wonder you’re single—”

“I’m fine,” you counter, exasperated, swatting her thumb away for good measure. “Both you and Seungkwan have nothing to worry about.” You pause, before snapping your head to her. “And stop saying that! You’re single too!”

“But I have options,” Chaeyoung emphasizes, tucking her hand back under her chin. “You know Joshua from the oriental medicine shop?”

“Hong?”

“Yeah, Joshua Hong…” Her legs start kicking and her hands fly to her cheeks. “I think he likes me, Y/N!”

“What makes you think that?” you ask, doubtful.

“You know how my grandma always drinks her medicinal tea, right? Well, last week I went to pick up her prescription ‘cause my parents were busy with work, and when we looked at each other…” Chaeyoung pauses her tangent to look at you with sparkling eyes. “You just had to be there, Y/N, it was love at first sight, I’m telling you! And he was such a gentleman when I asked for the medicine…”

“Chaeyoung, I’m pretty sure he was just doing his job?”

“I’m in love…”

You snort, patting her on the arm. “Good luck with that.”

“Do you want me to set you up with someone too? I know some people!”

“For the last time I’m not dating Soonyoung—”

“But why not—”

“Because he thinks he’s a tiger!” you exclaim, and Chaeyoung pauses before bursting into giggles, falling down next to you. As infectious as ever, your smile rises despite your previous objections, which then turn into matching laughter alongside Chaeyoung. You think it’s nice, not being made to think about your worries when you’re with her.

There’s an unwritten rule, put into play ever since Chaeyoung moved back to the island after four years away: to not mention the future. As trivial as it may have seemed, it was important. To two kids between the cusp of childhood and adulthood, you wanted to at least have somewhere you didn’t have to worry about anything the world threw at you, where you could just be yourselves.

You knew too much of what you were supposed to become, and Chaeyoung knew too little, but at least you had a place where none of that mattered.

“Oh,” Chaeyoung perks up, still giggling. “I almost forgot. Do you have a shirt you could lend me?”

You hum, reaching over to a small bag you have stashed away in the corner of your trunk. “Yeah, why?”

“My shift is a little after this and I forgot to bring an extra shirt,” she agonizes. “And my manager already doesn’t like me.”

You toss your extra shirt to her, and she sighs in relief. “Thank you, you’re a lifesaver.”

“Should we get going then?” you ask, hopping off the back of your Jeep. “I doubt your manager would be happy with you being late again.”

Chaeyoung protests, desperate to prove her innocence. “I was late twice—”

“And you’re gonna be late a third time if you don’t get in!”

You didn’t expect anyone else to be here.

Not at the early daytimes of the morning when the sun has just barely peeked its head out from under the horizon, not when the sky is flushed a soft rose and gold over the ever expansive sea. It was rare to see people at the beach this early in the day, and even rarer to see people at this particular beach at this time. Most people wouldn’t start flooding into the beach until noon, when Mingyu’s shifts would start.

Which is why it shocks you to see Mingyu walking out of the water, hair dripping, surfboard in hand. He doesn’t seem to expect seeing you either, with how he visibly jumps when he catches sight of you.

“Oh, hey,” he says, the greeting still slipping out despite his surprise. “You almost scared me, you’re not usually here this early.”

“Ah, well, I heard the waves would be pretty good today. And you know me,” you respond awkwardly, gaze slipping down to the board at his side. “Always itching to ride the best waves.”

Mingyu laughs at that, carding a hand through his hair, wet tips already starting to curl at the ends. “Yeah, I remember. You used to skip first period all the time when the surf was good. Mrs. Kim ended up giving up on you showing up for class during surfing season as long as you would make up the work later.”

You smile wryly at that, a rush of embarrassment warming your chest, diluted only by the nostalgia of it all. “I never ended up apologizing to her for that. I think I stressed her out way more than I should have.”

“Couldn’t have stressed her out more than me,” Mingyu jokes. “If you ever end up going back to apologize to her, take me with you. I never said sorry for sleeping through all of her classes either.”

You stifle a laugh at that, grinning up at him. “That’s right, I almost forgot. I don’t think you were awake for any classes before lunch.”

Mingyu whines, shaking his head. “Can you blame me? Those classes were earlier than any normal person could be awake for.”

Teasing, you raise your brow. “And yet here you are now, up even earlier than any of our classes ever were. By the way,” you mention, gesturing to his side. “I didn’t know you surfed?”

He pauses at that, like he almost forgot about the surfboard in his hand. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost think he starts fidgeting at the mention, with how he rotates the board up and leans it from one hand to the other. As if he was nervous at being caught, like he wanted it to go unmentioned—unnoticed.

“I don’t, really,” Mingyu says eventually, rubbing the back of his neck. A drop of water falls from a strand of his hair, soaking into the sand. “Gramps just taught me when I was young, and I just do it sometimes for fun.”

“Isn’t that what surfing is though?” you question, tilting your head. “Fun?”

“Yeah, but, I don’t know,” he fumbles hastily, trying to think of the right words to say. “I wouldn’t really say I surf though,” Mingyu settles on eventually, and the word carries a weight you’re unfamiliar with. “Not like you.”

Like me?

Mingyu can see the visible confusion in your eyes and he just smiles, picking up his board. “Nevermind. That probably sounded stupid, huh?”

“Huh? No, I—”

“Hey,” he interrupts, and the tilt of his lips is something you’ve never seen before. It’s appeasing, subdued, almost like he’s let go of something important for the sake of something else. “Don’t even worry about it. Have fun surfing, okay?" Mingyu takes a few steps, before turning back with slight embarrassment on his face. "And if it’s not too much to ask, could you keep this whole thing—” he gestures to the board “—a secret?”

You want to pry for an explanation, press him until he's forced to spill. He was never good under pressure, which is why you’re almost tempted to make him crack to satiate your curiosity, but maybe it's because you know that about him that you decide to bite your tongue. Because the way Mingyu talks about surfing is unfamiliar to almost everything you thought you knew about him—like you’ve stumbled across something you weren’t supposed to see, like you’ve accidentally dug a nail into the soft skin of a tangerine with the secrecy he’s asked of you.

So you utter a single “okay,” and watch the relief wash over Mingyu’s face at your small nod. He thanks you in the same breath he says his goodbyes, and he doesn’t wait for your response before he jogs away.

The moment still lingers in your mind when you paddle out into the ocean, and even afterwards, when you’ve satiated your appetite for a morning surf. It comes back into the forefront in flashes at unexpected moments—the light blush of sunrise, quiet waves lapping at the shore, the sincerity in Mingyu’s smile before he left. The orange stain of the rind doesn’t feel as bad as you thought it would, you come to accept hours later, laying on your bed. 

The smell of citrus is almost nice, the way it lingers.

It was supposed to be a small occasion. Just your parents and a couple of aunties and uncles that were close enough to share your goodbye dinner with. But like all small occasions go, your parents get ambitious and prideful and suddenly there's a feast in the kitchen hefty enough to feed a dozen people.

If you were being honest, the party was mostly for them. 

You personally couldn’t have cared less if they’d thrown an extravagant celebration complete with confetti and party poppers, or if they’d just given you a pat on the back and a gift card for future Starbucks runs—your parents had already done enough for you to feel loved. But for them, they wanted every chance possible to celebrate their little girl getting into college, moving away from home, taking her first steps into adulthood. So you bite down your objections about the festivities your dad insists on hosting, try to match your mom’s enthusiasm for DIY dorm decor and tourist destinations around campus, and let your parents enjoy what’s left of the summer with the child they’ve grown to know.

“Here,” your mom says, shoving a batch of napkins and plastic utensils into your hands. “Set these on the table in the garage, I need to get ready before the guests get here.” And almost as if on signal, your uncles’ muffled guffaws from outside make their way through the house’s walls, and your mom lets out a gasp of panic. “Tell your father to keep them busy,” she says frantically, scurrying out of the kitchen. “They can’t see me like this.”

“Mom, you look fine,” you chide softly, walking to the door. “I’m sure no one will mind if you don’t have makeup on for a family dinner.”

“Tell that to your aunt,” your mom bites back, poking her head out of the bathroom. “I’ll never live down the shame if she ends up looking better than me at our party.”

You give her a good-natured eye roll and twist the doorknob to the garage, greeting the guests outside. At your appearance you’re met with a chorus of overlapping cheers and congratulations from everyone, pulled into hugs by aunties and having your hair ruffled and back patted (way too violently, in your opinion) by your uncles.

As lamely as you say your thanks and try to weave between sneak attack bear hugs, you can’t say this felt like anything but home—the familiarity you’ve grown accustomed to. But still, you have a reputation to uphold, so you quash down the sentiment of it all and set the napkins down onto the plastic table with a firm announcement. “Dinner’s ready in five! There’s more in the kitchen if anyone wants extra.”

There’s a cacophony of cheers, your mom finally enters the garage with perfectly touched up eyes and lips (a smug glance sent to your aunt, with a near identical makeup look powdered on), and the dinner party finally starts.

It starts off good-natured, as it always does. Calls to pass around the mac salad and shoyu chicken, empty beer bottles accumulating by the second at every uncle’s feet, the insistent ushering of aunties for you to have more food. But the topic of conversation veers into California, to the major you're studying and what you're bringing to the dorms and "Y/N, are you bringing your surfboard with you?"

Your mom asks it with the purest of intentions—something about how the surf must be good up there and she's always wanted to know what California beaches were like, and your dad adds with a puff of his chest how you'd only surf the best and you have to break their bubble of excitement with the news. 

"Oh I'm, um, not." Everyone at the table goes quiet. You push around the extra fried rice your auntie had scooped onto your plate. It tastes like sawdust. "Bringing it to California, I mean."

The table blinks at you (your uncles set down their beer bottles on the table in shock), and your aunt asks a single, “But why?”

The heat of everyone’s gaze bores into you, but all you can think of is the wood paneling peeling on the side of the house, the cabinets that your parents never got around to replacing even after the past termite infestation left them eroded and worn, the pictures and decorations your mom picked out and places purposefully on the walls to cover up the bits of chipping paint. “I just don’t think I’ll keep surfing when I’m there,” you say finally, stuffing a piece of chicken in your mouth. You try to resist the urge to shrink in your seat at the silence that follows.

(“What a waste,” your aunt whispers under her breath. She is rarely as subtle as she pretends to be, but you don’t even think she bothered pretending this time. )

“O-oh,” your mom tries, looking around the table to dissipate the mood. “That’s fine, sweetie, I was just wondering.” She nudges your dad, who proceeds to cough on his barbequed short ribs, then joins her in your defense.

“It’s normal for kids to grow out of their interests, we won’t force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do,” he agrees. “Besides, the surfboard is always going to be here waiting for her when she comes back, it’s not like she has nothing to come back to.”

“But what if she forgets everything?” your aunt prods, disapproval in her voice. “Then all those years of hard work would be for nothing.”

“Have some more faith in her!” your mom scolds, standing to get more food from the big platters at the center of the table. “Besides, she’s going to California! It’s only natural that she’d want to try new things!”

Your grip on your spoon tightens.

Want. Isn’t that a funny thing? You’re sure your parents wanted many things too—to finish college, to get a nice job in their respective careers and work to save up for a house in that nice area near the beach that they always dreamed about having, the same one they reminisce on every time they drive past it. Maybe even have enough savings set aside to send their kid to college all four years debt free, to not have to debate between buying monthly groceries and splurging on an expensive item to treat themselves. And you want too, of course you do—what person doesn’t? But ‘want’ is a thing of privilege, you’ve grown to accept. An object of desire for those who can afford it.

You are not one of those people. So you try to not torture yourself with unattainable possibilities, and you accept the things that simply cannot be.

Your mom tries to divert the topic of conversation to other things, tries to dissipate the thick and heavy sense of disapproval in the air. She asks you what else you’re packing for the flight, if you know anyone else from the islands going there, if you’ve made friends yet, to not hesitate if you miss anything from home because she’ll send a care package and all you can hear is the muffled roaring of ocean waves and seafoam at your fingertips and god you can’t do this. 

The chair almost topples over with the speed at which you stand up, half-eaten plate of food growing cold at the table as your mom gapes at you with a sentence left unfinished, still waiting to be spoken.

“Y/N…?”

“I need to go.” You can’t fucking breathe.

And there’s so much you can tell everyone there wants to say. You haven’t even eaten anything, there’s still cake they bought from your favorite bakery waiting in the fridge, you can’t just walk out of your own party and if this were a different day or maybe even at a different time you would have bitten your tongue until you could taste the metal and eat your cake, copper-coated and all, but in this very moment you just can’t do it. So you ignore your mother’s wide eyes and pretend not to hear the words lodged in her throat, and you run.

Past the balloons and banners your dad had strung up on the outside of the garage, past your uncles’ trucks parked along the sidewalk in the front of your house, all the way to your Jeep parked a couple blocks away, your surfboard still tied to the top of it. The sun is already deep below the horizon, the last bit of it turning the sky a rich orange and pink.

(Waves crashing on rocks. Sand troughs at the bottom of the ocean. Seafoam. Everything you love, everything you have to let go of.)

You drive.

By the time you get to the beach, the sky has already turned into more of a dark blue than its previous wash of color. Distantly, you remember the warnings your father had always told you about the sea, the dangers you could find yourself in if you didn’t go in with a clear mind. But through the haze of dinner flashing through your mind and the buzzing in your fingertips as you untie your board from the roof of your car, you can’t bring yourself to care.

Things flood your mind in short bursts yet all at once—care packages and chipping paint and scholarship funds and that look on your parents’ face when you told them you’d gotten into the business program and shit you just want to make them proud and pay them back for everything they’ve done and—

“Y/N! Hey, the beach is closing soon where are you—”

It’s Mingyu’s voice, you register, somewhere within the fray. Funny. You didn’t even know he worked this late. 

The thought is brief before you dive straight into the water.

It’s muscle memory from there, your body doing what you’ve trained it to do for years and years and years. You paddle out a long distance away before stopping and waiting for your next chance. Darkening waters, light dimming from the sky, you’re the farthest you’ve ever gone.

You need this, you tell yourself, eyeing an incoming cresting wave. You need this, you need this now, because you’ll never have it again. You can never have it again.

And as the wave comes, you do what you’ve done for what seems like a million times (you swim towards it and your foot plants onto the board and everything goes right), until you feel your balance shift, the board slips out from under your feet, and you go crashing into the water below.

Immediately, the current thrashes you back and forth, the pressure from above bearing down on you as you try not to flounder your way up to the surface. You feel your surfboard around you in the middle of the chaos, the leash attaching your ankle to the board circling around the coral reef beneath you. Dread swells in your chest as you tug your foot once, then twice. It doesn’t budge.

Water roaring in your ears, adrenaline thrumming through your muscles, you try to break the leash again, and again, and again. Panic fully setting in, you try to pull your foot out for the last time, and in the same second it manages to slip out, a small shadow of a rescue float splashes onto the surface of the water, followed by a much bigger splash of someone jumping in after.

You reach your hand up, a trace of longing within your fingertips, and a hand plunges into the water, traveling the distance to grasp onto yours. 

Grip firm, you’re pulled upwards in a quick surge until you break the surface of the water, coughing and gasping in desperately needed air. You cling with weak arms onto the float, eyes burning with seasalt, and you meet Mingyu’s gaze from across the tube. He holds your gaze for a split second before turning and grabbing the handle of the float, dragging it towards the jet ski he had ridden here.

It's a silent affair, the way he hoists you up onto the jet ski before getting on afterwards. Mingyu collects the tube from the water and speaks for the first time since he pulled you out of the water.

“Are you okay?” he asks, giving you a glance over. You want to say yes, I’m fine, but the words lodge in your throat before you can even start to form them on your tongue. 

In the distance, floating a ways away, is the top half of your surfboard, cracked and split clean into two.

You can only manage a quiet nod, the unspoken words melding into a lump. Mingyu follows your gaze out to where the half floats and he lets out a soft “oh” at the sight. Gently, he guides your hands around his waist to hold as he starts the jet ski again, riding back to shore.

Dusk turns the air cold, the wind drying the water droplets lingering on your skin. The rush of current still echoes in your ears, limbs aching from fading adrenaline, and your mind buzzes in a static standstill all the way back. The flush of embarrassment heats in your chest as you think more about it—the fact that you of all people would have to be rescued like this, that you would wipe out this severely on a wave and routine this simple, something you had regarded innate like clockwork. You almost want to crumple into yourself at the thought, and then you remember that you had left halfway through dinner in a big scene all for this.

(For the shame, for the twist of the weight in your stomach, for a broken board at the end of it all. You were just so tired.)

Mingyu gets off with you when you arrive at shore, leading you to the lifeguard tower and up the stairs with gentle hands, grabbing a towel from one of the tables and a stool for you to sit down on. He flicks on the lamp by the table.

“Stay here,” he tells you, draping the towel over you. “I’ll be right back.”

You almost want to ask where, but by the look he gives you, he doesn’t even have to tell you for you to know.

You clutch the towel tighter around your frame and you nod again, a quiet “okay,” to accompany it, and you watch as Mingyu goes back to the water, his figure growing smaller as he rides out to find the remaining pieces of your surfboard. It’s almost funny, the way everything turned out. You don’t even have a board left to take with you, even if you wanted to; you tell yourself it’s for the best, that lack of temptation.

Mingyu returns a few minutes later, tells you that he placed the board in the storeroom and when you’re ready to take it back you can just grab it from here. You nod again, silent, and he lets the tension stretch until he snaps it himself.

“What were you thinking?”

The question is asked calmly, maybe even with a little underlying heat in it, but you think you would have preferred if he was just angry at you. To yell at you, to tell you how stupid you were to go out and surf a wave you knew you couldn’t handle, that you should’ve known better. But at your silence, he crouches down to your level and asks again; he does everything but yell.

“What happened out there?” His eyes are wide, searching, sincere. Your nails dig into your palm, salt pricking your eyes. “Don’t you know it’s dangerous? I told you the beach was almost closed, didn’t you hear me? Do you even know what could have happened if I wasn’t…”

The sting of sea salt turns into a burn, the heat behind your eyes lodging in your nose, your throat—you can’t just blame it on the sea salt anymore when you sniffle, wiping the first few tears that escape with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry,” you warble, your apology thick and teary as the dam finally collapses. “Fuck, I’m so sorry—”

Mingyu looks positively lost the more tears slip down your cheeks, former scolding evaporating into thin air as he fumbles his way around the shed searching for tissues. “Hey, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry, let me find you some tissues—” Mingyu knocks over a first-aid kit and stubs his toe onto the desk, stifling a whimper as he continues to hobble around “—I am so sorry please don’t cry—”

You sniffle through a giggle, and Mingyu stops. He turns to look at you with pitiful eyes and you wonder why exactly he looks like he’s about to cry too. Maybe the table leg really did do a number on his pinky toe. He offers you a tissue box, a little helpless. You take it with a watery smile.

A part of you still wants to hold onto the grudge you’ve held against him all summer, the you that stifles a sigh when he sneezes into his hands and laughs when he trips on the sand. It’s what you’re used to, what you’re comfortable with, a tiny slice of normalcy you’ve been aching for all evening. But the truth is—anything left of your pride has washed away with the tide and splintered with your broken board, and you can’t find it in yourself to be mad at him. Not even a little.

Mingyu shifts awkwardly as you dab away your tears, looking out the window before rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m gonna do a last check of the beach, okay? I’ll be back really soon.” He opens his mouth again as if to say more, but decides against it, turning back and forth before finally exiting the cabin and descending down the stairs. Looking down from the balcony, you can hear him muttering under his breath and smacking himself lightly on the head as his shoulders curl in from embarrassment.

You watch the sun dip completely under the sea as you wait for Mingyu to come back, the sky turning almost black in its absence. Trying to repress a shiver, you rub your arms absentmindedly through the towel as you watch Mingyu survey the expanse of the beach for any stray visitors, his single flashlight leading his location in the darkness. The last check is mostly just for warning. There wasn’t anyone to really stop people from trespassing after hours, but you know that Mingyu has to do his mandatory check and announcement that the beach was closed before any uncles wanting to do late night fishing or reckless teenagers hungry for quick thrills decided to pursue their activities at their own risk.

On his way back, the flashlight stops a little distance away from the lifeguard tower, hesitating, until you hear his soft steps outside before the door creaks open. Mingyu’s head pokes in.

“I’m done for the day,” he says, almost timidly. His eyes scan your face in the lowlight, as if searching for any remaining traces of tears in your eyes, and you can practically see the tension leave his body when you smile back at him.

Hopping off the stool, you meet him at the doorway, peering up at him still towel-swaddled. “Are you ready to head out?” Mingyu asks, and in the scattering dim lamplight, your eyes drift to the mole on the cusp of his jaw, the second on the tip of his nose. You wonder why you'd only noticed them now.

“Yeah,” you agree softly, ducking under his arm through the door. “Let’s go.”

The walk back to your Jeep is a quiet one, your feet shuffling in flip-flops as you and Mingyu try to match each other—Mingyu syncing his steps with yours, you quickening your pace to keep up with his long strides. It isn’t until you arrive that he speaks again, between the unlocking and opening of your trunk.

“What are you going to do now?” Mingyu asks, the lightpost flickering above you in short bursts (blink—blink—stay). The question is innocent, earnest, just like how Mingyu normally is. But still, your gut twists at the thought of ‘after.’ 

Sighing, you reach to pull a duffel bag from the back of the trunk to the edge. “Well,” you start out tentatively. “To be honest with you, I don’t really know.” 

Biting your lip, you zip open the duffel bag, rifling through the items. “It’s a little…complicated to go home straight away,” you confess, pulling out an extra pair of shorts, setting the extra undergarments you have to the side of the bag (Mingyu has the decency to avert his eyes). “So I really don’t…” have a plan, you mean to finish, but all that comes out of your mouth is “...shit.”

“Huh?” Mingyu’s head snaps to you before snapping away, squeezing his eyes shut to avoid catching unwelcomed glimpses of underwear. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you respond, but it sort of comes out as a mix between a pitiful moan and a mournful cry. You look at the inside of your bag in utter defeat. Even in the midst of the chaos of unfurled clothes, the absence of your extra shirt is glaringly obvious. You forgot to put another one in your bag after Chaeyoung took it last week. 

Imaginary Chaeyoung’s face appears in your mind, giving you a wink and a thumbs up with such gusto and infuriating enthusiasm that you’re already drafting your fifteen-line malice-filled text message to her, cursing her and her future generations and all. That is, until—

“Y/N?” Right. Mingyu was still here. You’re pretty sure he could see the despair radiating off of you in heavy and visible waves.

"No, everything's fine," you slump, face in your hands. "It's just my friend borrowed my only extra shirt and now I…" The wet swimsuit seems to cling even colder at the confession.

"Oh, I have an extra shirt in my trunk if you want?"

Perking your head up, your eyes practically sparkle. "Really?" You trail after him as he walks to his parked truck, opening the backdoor and taking out a small black bag and a wrinkled shirt inside it.

"Yeah, here—" he begins, but stops himself, taking a small sniff of the cloth before wrinkling his nose. "Actually, um, maybe you shouldn't borrow this after all…"

Your face falls; Mingyu catches it the moment it does.

"My house isn't far from here," Mingyu tells you, jabbing a thumb in the opposite direction of the beach. “I can lend you one of my shirts if we stop by?” His eyes are hopeful when he brings it up, like he wouldn’t be able to sleep well if he just let you go home in a cold, half-wet swimsuit top. “And—”

The distinct noise of your stomach growling interrupts him, and you both stop for a moment to truly register the sound. Mingyu looks down to your stomach, blinking, then turns away quickly to stifle his laughter. Heat flushes up your neck as your hands fly to your face, squeezing your eyes shut. 

There’s no way this is happening right now.

“I am so sorry, please ignore that,” you squeak, willing yourself to shrink down into microscopic particles and disappear, but Mingyu puts a hand on your shoulder right as you’re about to spiral in shame. 

“We can stop by my house,” he says gently, lips still quirking up at the corners, “and then we can get something to eat on the way back, okay?”

By the way he’s talking to you, you have a brief but horrid vision of your uncanny resemblance to a petrified hamster. But the warmth of his hand is still on your skin, and his eyes wait patiently for you to take up on his offer, so you let out a quiet, “okay.” 

(You figure it would be okay for you to run away for just a little longer, right?)

Mingyu grins in response, wide-toothed and lopsided, his hand slipping off of your shoulder to circle around to the driver’s side. You try not to notice the absence as you tug the handle of the car door open.

The little hula girl bobblehead on Mingyu’s dashboard wobbles to the tropical tunes playing through the stereo. 

You try not to stare at it for too long at a time (the rhythm is quite hypnotizing), but Mingyu notices your drifting glances making its way back to the figure and he jumps to explain. “It’s not mine, I promise,” he says lamely, gesturing towards it with a nod of his head. “My dad insisted on keeping it there when he handed the truck down to me; said since it’s older than me it has the right of seniority or something.”

Laughing, you shake your head, lips curled upwards. “No, no, it’s cute. Sounds like it means a lot to him.”

Mingyu exhales, exasperated, but it’s all lighthearted by the ease in his shoulders. “You could say that. A little too much, if you ask me.”

"But it's nice, isn't it?" you ask, peering at him. "To have him pass something so special down to you?"

He pauses, eyes fond when he nods. "Yeah, I guess so."

You soon arrive at a large gate a couple minutes later, sandwiched between two stone walls surrounding the perimeter of the property. It opens with a press of a button, Mingyu casually pulling into a driveway you’ve only ever had the privilege of seeing from a distance—longing looks from the sidewalk before you inevitably had to walk past, pictures online of houses one could only dream of having. Gravel crunches underneath the truck’s wheels as it slows to a halt, and Mingyu looks over at you, gesturing to the house. "Well, this is my place."

Hopping out, you try not to gape as you follow him to the front door, catching on the minute details of it all. The sleek pavement of the sidewalk leading up the front porch steps, the flowers and ferns in the front garden lush and vibrant with color alit with small garden lamps planted in the soil, an unblemished white painted on all sides of the house. The porch light flickers on the moment Mingyu steps on the smooth wood—warm, steady, alive.

Mingyu fumbles with his keys for a second before unlocking the house, shifting to the side for you to walk through first before following after. You wait patiently by the door while he flips on the lightswitch on the other side of the room, and it isn’t until he looks back at you and beckons you over that you trail behind him, feet shuffling in the house slippers he lends you.

“It’s a nice place,” you say softly when Mingyu slips into the laundry room, tossing his dirty spare shirt into the hamper. “Close to the beach, too.”

“Ah, yeah,” Mingyu shrugs, a half-hearted smile on his face. “It’s honestly more of my gramps’s than mine or my parents—he’s the one who bought it a long time ago—but I can’t say it’s not a nice place to live.”

You appreciate the honesty over forced humble pretenses; not that Mingyu was ever the type to try to appear different than who he really was, but you've spent far too much of your life trying to wade through false platitudes that his openness comes as a pleasant surprise. 

But even with its newly refurbished furniture and what Mingyu says to be freshly installed hardwood flooring, as you wander through the house, you realize it shows its age through the people living within it—the worn soles on his mother’s slippers that you’d borrowed, the gallery of pictures frames scattered across the hallway walls, scuffs on the family table you could only imagine came from old, infamous Mingyu mishaps.

Mingyu tells you he’ll be right back with an extra shirt and to make yourself comfortable, and you give him an acknowledging hum and nod in response, brushing your fingers lightly against the pencil marks etched into the wall beside his bedroom door, each line marked with an age as they climb up the wall. As you wait for him to rummage through his drawers, you turn back to the assortment of photos displayed on the wall, a small desk in the corner to display the trinkets that couldn’t fit on the main display. 

Sepia photos mixed with more modern, saturated prints, they’re all shots of who you deduce is Mingyu’s grandfather surfing, posing on the beach, a sweet wedding photo of Mingyu’s grandparents’ wedding reception with a matching picture of Mingyu’s parents’ reception placed right below, interspersed with pictures of Mingyu through the ages, his baby pictures and school graduations and everything in between (there’s a specific one you stop on for a little laugh, his middle school graduation picture with slicked gelled hair and a stiff, awkward smile appropriate for a thirteen year old in a suit too big around the shoulders). You stop on a particular framed film picture of Mingyu’s grandfather, smiling brightly at the camera with a surfboard in one hand and a shaka sign in the other; a smaller picture sits tucked in the corner of the frame—eight-year-old Mingyu, gap-toothed and cheesing, doing the same matching pose with his dad.

You’d be lying if the pictures weren’t adorable enough on their own, but what evokes an uncontrollably fond smile from you is Mingyu’s almost uncanny resemblance to his grandpa, down to the wolfish grin that both wear with ease. Everyone had always teased him about it, especially back in high school, but you had always thought that it was all just cliché small talk from adults until now.

His home wasn’t so different from yours, you think, when it boiled down to it. Beneath all the polished wood and marble countertops was just a place that stored memories, love told through marks of youth and increments of time.

“Hope you’re okay with this spare,” Mingyu calls as he exits his room, gently breaking you out of your rêverie. “If not, I can find something else?” 

You hum in response, glancing at the black shirt in his hands. “No, that should be fine,” you say, holding out your hand. “Is there a bathroom I can use?”

He points down the hall, then crooks his finger. “Go straight and it should be on your left at the end of the hall.”

“Great, thank you.”

Following his directions, you find the bathroom and shut the door quietly. You allow yourself a split second of admiring the interior (what a fancy sink.) before changing quickly into his spare clothes, stuffing your still-damp bikini top into the bag you had brought inside with you. Questionable print on the graphic tee aside, you would rather gratefully accept his kind gesture than be shivering and cold in your damp swimsuit.

When you return, you find him still standing at the photo gallery, the tips of his ears tinged scarlet; you think you’re imagining it at first, maybe a trick of the light, but when you walk closer and look again, his ears still burn, arguably even brighter with you staring at him like that.

Blinking, you almost ask if he’s okay before he speaks, his voice seeped in embarrassment. “You were looking at the pictures before, right?”

“Yes…?”

“Did you see the, um…” Mingyu squeezes his eyes shut, looking away. “Did you see the one from my middle school graduation.”

Covering your laugh with a short, obvious fake-cough, you shake your head vigorously, hands waving in emphasis. “What? I can’t say that I did.”

Mingyu’s voice borders on a whine. “You’re lying, you did see it, didn’t you?”

 “No, no!” You hold your arms out in front of you in an ‘X,’ shaking your head again. “Not a single thirteen-year-old Mingyu in sight! Promise!”

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Mingyu grabs his keys from the counter, walking towards the front door. He holds it open for you to walk through first (a common habit, apparently), but you can’t help the teasing remark that slips past when you pass through the door. “You were quite dashing with that hair, though. Did it take long to gel like that?”

“I knew it!”

The diner Mingyu drives you to sits on a wind-up path from the road between his house and the beach. It’s quiet when you enter, the bell above the door jingling quickly followed by Mingyu’s friendly greeting towards the diner staff. The cook waves at him through the kitchen window the minute he spots him, a welcoming holler shouted his way, and the waitress smiles as she reaches for the stash of menus hidden under the counter.

“Sit wherever you’d like,” she calls, “I’ll be right there!”

Mingyu nudges you with a prompting motion, and you rock on your heels looking around the diner before taking a seat at the booth second-closest to the door, Mingyu sliding into the booth across from you. The waitress comes seconds after, handing a single menu to you, along with two glasses of water; you look to Mingyu on instinct, but the waitress has you beat to it.

“The regular for you, right?” she asks, a brow quirked up in amusement, and Mingyu grins.

“You know me so well.”

She pokes at him with the butt of her pencil, teasing. “How could I not—you come here too much.”

Mingyu slaps a hand over his chest in faux hurt, but she ignores him smoothly, instead turning her attention to you. “Hi, I haven’t seen you here before? My name’s Hayoung, by the way!”

You startle at the sudden attention. “Oh! Yeah, I, um,” your eyes flicker to Mingyu, “Mingyu recommended it for a late night snack, I was kind of just following him.”

 She raises a brow at that, nudging Mingyu again with the pencil as she whispers. “Late night, huh?”

He smacks it away, hissing. “Not like that!”

Hayoung hides her smirk behind her notepad, waving his objection with a flippant hand. “Anyway, enough about him,” she says, turning to you again. “Have you decided what you want yet? I can totally come back if you haven’t!”

Scanning through the menu, you point to the first item that catches your eye. “Can I just have a club sandwich? With the fries as a side.”

“Yeah, of course! I’ll be right out with those in a second!”

Hayoung places her notepad back in her apron and skips back to the kitchen, though not without another sneaky glance at Mingyu and his returning exasperation at her not-so-subtle implications. Mingyu shoots her a dirty look with her back turned, ears burning, before turning back to you while he grumbles under his breath about how they were never going to let him live this down.

(Hayoung and the cook gossip in loud whispers a few feet away, something about “he brought a girl here…” and how they were so proud, they thought he was going to be single forever—)

You stifle a laugh behind a sip of your water, and Mingyu looks at you with a hand shielding his face from the other side of the diner. He is just exhausted.

“What’s your regular order?” you ask, throwing a line to help drag him out of sinking embarrassment. It was the least you could do, especially after filing away the knowledge of his middle school photo for a later time.

“A double cheeseburger,” he replies, slowly pulling himself out of his wallowing. “With fries.”

You nod. “Of course. You can’t skip the fries.”

“See! I knew you would get it!”

You settle into comfortable small talk soon after, reminiscing about old classmates and sharing stories from the summer. According to the grapevine, Soonyoung had landed himself into a bit of trouble after he was almost caught running around your old middle school track half-naked after a poorly executed dare. All the security guard’s flashlight had caught was a head of platinum hair and a glimpse of tiger print boxers, but those details could only really narrow it down to one person. 

(You had raised a brow in between laughs at Mingyu's involvement in the whole incident, but he insisted on his innocence and that he only heard about it from other people afterwards. You believe him, if only because of his inability to lie.)

Though, even if Mingyu tried his hardest to act natural, it wasn’t hard to pick up the way he tries to skirt around the elephant in the room. You think it’s more for your sake than his, but with the lull of silence that falls after each brief burst of conversation, his awkward flitting gaze from you to the table to the kitchen and back to the table reminds you of everything that’s happened tonight.

You don’t necessarily want to bring it up yourself either, what with the embarrassment that still clings to you at just the thought of the memory. You were the one who’d made a big scene out of something you definitely could have prevented, after all. And even after everything, Mingyu was still kind enough to invite you back to his house and lend you his clothes, going so far as to invite you out to his favorite diner. It seemed a little too much to ask him to bear the weight of your emotional burdens on top of everything else he’s done for you tonight.

But when Hayoung comes over with both of your plates and Mingyu begins to open his mouth to say something, only to stiffly eat a fry instead, it really hits you. He saved your life.

Mingyu had already seen the most vulnerable parts of yourself, your crumbling and the aftermath—what was a little more of yourself bared? Maybe it’s the clatter of the kitchen cleaning up and the warm, yellow light of the diner that allows your shoulders to drop; or maybe, maybe—

(You’ll be gone in a month, anyway. By the time you’re back, it’ll be winter, and you’ll come back to the eternal sunny skies, and this will all be behind you. But when the wound is still fresh and the sea salt still stings too much to tell the difference between honesty and shame, you allow yourself to indulge in your selfishness a little more tonight.)

“So, um,” you start, nibbling at a fry on your plate. “About what happened tonight.”

Mingyu stops, eyes widening. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, it’s totally fine—”

“Mingyu,” you interrupt gently, meeting his gaze. “I want to.”

And so you tell him everything: the way your graduation dinner had fallen apart, that you ran away in the middle of your own party, the reason why you’d stupidly dove into a wave you knew you couldn’t handle.

“I just couldn’t do it anymore.” Your confession comes soft, an exhale more than anything. It was a relief, in a way, finally saying it out loud after months of stifling it down. It wasn’t that you hated the idea of knowing what your future was going to be—it had always seemed like a given, the foundation for a good life you’d been building since you were in high school: graduate with top marks from a good university, get a good internship and job offer straight after school so you could start earning money as soon as possible. All of that meant you needed to give up any distractions in the process, even if one of those distractions was the thing you loved most. “It’s like there was always this pressure on me, you know? From my parents, my other relatives, my friends…” It’s almost hard to admit, saying out loud for the first time. “But I guess most of it comes from myself. It always has.”

Mingyu keeps his eyes on you, nodding intently when you glance back at him periodically. But after you fall silent, finally relieving everything off your chest, he opens his mouth for the first time since he started listening. “Do your parents know? About the reasons why you’re really quitting surfing?”

You shake your head, a soft “no,” accompanying it. “I know they’d try to stop me. Try to convince me otherwise and maybe even send me that stupid surfboard a week later to make sure I still keep it.” You laugh a little at the image, surfboard crammed inside a big cardboard box taking up half the room in your shared dorm. 

“It’s not like they’ve ever put any pressure on me to do this for them or anything, and they’ve always supported me in whatever I wanted to do, but…” Your voice trails off, eyes falling to the half-eaten plate in front of you. “They gave up their dreams because of me.”

It’s strange, really. You never once thought you would one day expose the rawest part of yourself to Kim Mingyu of all people, but the words spill out before you can stop yourself. (Maybe when the night ends, you can blame this moment of vulnerability on him, on the earnestness in his eyes when he looks at you.)

“They should have completed school like they wanted to,” you say quietly. “Mom wanted to be a doctor, and Dad wanted to be the first one in his family to finish school and graduate. And they never did, because they chose to have me instead.” Your head tilts to the side, observing the diner. Hayoung types something rapidly on her phone hidden underneath the register, to which the chef sees through the kitchen window and tells her to get off her ass and start cleaning tables or something. She snaps back in a hushed voice that ‘Mingyu was having a moment…!’ which you pointedly ignore. “They’ve already given me so much love, I wanna show them that choosing to have me was the right decision. It wouldn’t be right of me to keep doing whatever I wanted without paying them back first, you know?”

So what if you had to give up surfing? That was why you went into the sea in the first place, right? To give yourself this one last thing, because you could never have it again—not really, not like this. Not that it mattered much in the end, anyway. 

The memory of the broken board floating on the surface of the waves flashes in your mind with a pang. With the surfboard gone, so is the temptation. Maybe it was for the best.

You breathe out, almost shakily, steeling yourself to look at Mingyu again. “That’s it, really. And I’m sorry. This wasn’t the kind of night I pictured having today, and I’m sure this…” you trail off, gesturing vaguely, “wasn’t the night you envisioned for yourself on a Friday night either.”

The fries are almost cold now, as you take another one to nibble on gingerly.

“No, don’t apologize,” Mingyu says, shaking his head. “It sounds like you have a lot on your plate.”

You shrug, smiling a little. “I guess you could say that.”

“But…” His next words come carefully, almost gentle, and you get the feeling he’s trying to avoid touching any nerves. “I just don’t think this is what your parents would have wanted for you.”

You must make a face, because Mingyu immediately backtracks, scrambling to rephrase his point. “Tell me if I’m overstepping, I really don’t mean to at all and I’m really sorry if I do, but...” He hesitates, slightly. “Do you remember when you saw me on the beach that one time?”

“You’d asked me to keep it a secret.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I think I just didn’t want it to get out. It’s a small town, people talk.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Why would it matter, though?”

It was just surfing, wasn’t it?

“It’s like…” Mingyu trails off, pursing his lips in thought. “I like surfing, really. But it’s no secret who my gramps is.”

(His grandpa was the local legend, after all. Both breaking the record of the youngest to win the highly acclaimed annual surfing competition on the island and the one to hold the first place for the most years in a row, he was a pillar in the community, almost a local celebrity with how much he was admired and loved. It was how they could afford the house that they all lived in, why so many older adults looked at Mingyu with a generational fondness in their eyes, why there were so many childhood photos of Mingyu and his dad by the beach even though none of them really indulged in it as professionally as his grandpa did.)

“If people knew that I liked surfing, it would only be a matter of time before they would start expecting things from me, you know? Stuff like living up to my grandpa’s name or taking his mantle because my dad chose not to, continuing my grandpa’s legacy—it’s not what I want, and it’s not what my parents or my gramps want for me either.” Mingyu pauses. “They’ve always encouraged me to do things that I want to do, not things that I think that others want from me… and I think your parents feel the same.

“I get it, I really do,” he says, smiling a little, “but it’s not about what you feel like you owe them, or what you feel you need to do as an obligation. It’s about what you want, right? That’s what your parents would want for you too.” The bell jingles as a group of high schoolers come stumbling in, greeting Hayoung cheerfully, but it all fades to the background. “And I know it feels wrong from everything you’re used to, but it’s okay—it’s okay to have both.”

You swallow hard, your cup of water empty of everything except for the little unmelted ice left. A small part of you wants to let his words bounce off you the way you have in the past, like how you’ve done every time Chaeyoung or Seungkwan tried to offer their own well-meaning advice, but you know it’s different this time.

Because he’s not Chaeyoung or Seungkwan, and you can tell he’s not just saying empty words to lift your burdens. And maybe there are still the differences you’d felt since the moment you met him, his house still a nice place near the beach, the paint not old and peeling, his family never having to live paycheck to paycheck to make ends meet, but he understood you in the ways that mattered. There was love in his house, the pencil marks etched in his bedroom doorway echoing the marker flowers still kept on your living room walls from when you were 3.

When you look out the window, his reflection stares back at you as much as yours does, and you see it clearly now. His desire to return the love given to him, the same steady weight of home that’s been like an anchor to him, all this time. It’s in him as much as it is in you.

You wonder for the hundredth time tonight how you ended up in this position, nearly dying and then pouring out your feelings out to the person who saved you, the same boy you had sworn to yourself you would never think of fondly. But you find that in this small diner, with holes in its leather cushions and chips and scratches on the edges of your ceramic plate, yellow light warm in the beginning of a dark night, you’re almost glad it happened, if it meant it turned out like this.

“Thanks, Mingyu,” you say eventually, fingers wringing together in your lap. The AC thrums faintly in the background. “Really. That means a lot.”

He breathes a quiet sigh of relief, smiling at you. “Of course. Anytime.”

Smiling back, you finally take a bite of your sandwich left to settle into a room temperature on your plate. The lettuce and tomato has grown a little soggy from how long it’s had to sit wedged between the mayonnaise and sourdough, but you keep craving another bite after your last. You’re not sure if it’s because of how hungry you are, or if it’s the atmosphere that allows for it, but you enjoy the taste regardless.

It’s almost 11:00PM by the time you and Mingyu walk back to his car, ready to drive you back. It’s 11:20 when you arrive back at the beach parking lot, waving each other a goodbye that feels almost gentle, the way you linger by the half-open door of his truck before hopping out.

It’s 11:23 when you make your way back to your car, head resting on the steering wheel in the silence, that it finally clicks. A late night dinner. A heart-to-heart. You even saw his goddamn childhood photos.

Did you… just become friends with Kim Mingyu?

Before you fall asleep that night, you make a mental checklist of everything you need to do the next day.

Apologize to your parents. (They probably had to do damage control after you left, and your mom would most likely have to make snippy retorts to your aunt’s passive remarks for the rest of the year.)

Head to the beach to give back Mingyu’s shirt, freshly washed.

(VERY IMPORTANT!) Make sure everything that happened last night is kept tightly under wraps, lest your well-meaning (read: gossipy and overly interested) friends find out.

Only, when you wake up the next day, your carefully curated plans crumble in front of your eyes. Checking your phone for the first time since last night, you find it flooded with messages from Chaeyoung, Seungkwan, the group chat with Chaeyoung and Seungkwan—frantic, all caps, a few missed calls to add onto it. Scrolling further down the notifications, you also find a single desperate email that Seungkwan sent to you at 8AM. (Subject: WAKE UP!!!!)

Squinting, you open up the messages to see what the world-ending crisis plagued them this time. Two weeks ago, it was Chaeyoung’s Hinge match she’d ghosted after the first date spotted at Target, and the week before that, Seungkwan’s favorite breakfast place ran out of almond butter. Needless to say, the panic doesn’t really set in until you make out the letters M I N G Y U in the plethora of texts and your stomach drops.

Chaeyoung: Y/N EXPLAIN Chaeyoung: WHY WERE YOU HANGING OUT WITH MINGYU LAST NIGHT?!?!

Your eyes widen, rapidly sending a text back.

You: ??? who told you? Chaeyoung: YOU’RE AWAKE Chaeyoung: FINALLY Chaeyoung: I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WERE HIDING THIS THE ENTIRE TIME Chaeyoung: [sent photo]  [Seungkwan laughed at image] You: CHANGE MY CONTACT NAME BACK? Chaeyoung: BUT YOU’RE THE RIZZARD OF OZ…. [Seungkwan loved the message] 

Groaning, you dislike the message with a fervor and try to move onto another topic. 

You: ok can someone please tell me how you know about mingyu i just woke up and i’m not backreading Seungkwan: my cousin works at the diner Seungkwan: asked me why i didn’t tell her about mingyu’s cute new gf Seungkwan: lol

There’s a muffled scream that only your pillow ever hears. So much for taking this secret with you to the grave. Actually, maybe it wouldn’t be too late to start your funeral preparations now.

Chaeyoung: ok well. obviously we need to talk about this. Chaeyoung: secret hideout meeting in an hour!!!

And without any further argument,  you know that your fate is sealed, the final nail in the coffin. You can’t even find the energy to retort back how it’s not a ‘secret hideout meeting’ if all she was doing was barging in before your and Seungkwan’s scheduled work shift.

But regardless, here you were, an hour later, back at the shave ice shop sat at the tables with Seungkwan and Chaeyoung staring intently at you.

“So,” Seungkwan starts out, ignoring the slightly crazed look in Chaeyoung’s eyes as she nearly vibrates out of her seat. “Spill.”

You don’t even try to fight the headache incoming, pressing your fingers to your temples instead to appease the ache. “There’s not even anything to spill. I went out surfing last night, I let my guard down and I almost drowned.”

“What?” Seungkwan blurts out, his and Chaeyoung’s eyes widen simultaneously. “Are you okay? What happened?”

You wave them off with a tired smile. “I’m fine, I promise. Mingyu was there to save me.”

They both look at you with poorly concealed worry, running over your body to make sure nothing was amiss. But then, Chaeyoung interjects lightly. “So you fell in love because he was your knight in shining armor?”

Your face falls straight into your hands. “For the last time, we’re just friends! There’s nothing going between me and Min…”

When you raise your head to make eye contact with both of them to hammer in your point, the bell jingles as the door to the shop opens, and you meet eyes with the man himself.

“...Gyu,” you finish lamely. Speak of the devil.

Mingyu grins and waves. “Hey!”

Chaeyoung and Seungkwan whip their head from Mingyu to you and then back again, zeroing in on him. It suddenly feels like you’ve been dropped in a shark tank and—from the way the intensity of their gaze amplifies as they snap back to you—they’ve caught the scent of blood.  Wading through it, you smile and wave back casually, ignoring your friends mindlessly tapping on their phones, pretending that their ears weren’t twice as big trying to listen.

“Hey, Mingyu. I don’t know if you saw,” you jab your thumb at the window, “but we’re not open right now.”

He tilts his head, frowning. “Oh, really? That’s not what the sign out front says, though?” Mingyu points to the same window, the one that hangs a sign that says in big red letters, ‘CLOSED!’. You frown, brain whirring. If your side of the sign says ‘closed,’ that means that from the outside, it says…

“Seungkwan,” you call dryly.

Seungkwan shoots his head up, dropping his phone on the table. “Haha! Sorry, man!” he says, running past Mingyu to flip the sign over properly. “We’re closed!”

“But I thought—”

“We’ll be open in an hour,” Seungkwan interjects, flashing him a big thumbs up. “See you then!”

Mingyu looks at him quizzically, furrowing his brows in confusion, before responding with a slow, “Okay… See you in an hour then?”

All three of you nod at him, waving goodbye. Mingyu turns around to exit the store, and you almost breathe a sigh of relief. Sure, him appearing right as you were trying to convince your friends there was nothing going on between the two of you would put some extra work on your plate, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. You’re just grateful that Mingyu didn’t act overly friendly and mention anything else that happened last night that would carry any innuendos, like—

“Oh, Y/N,” Mingyu says, right as the door opens. “About my shirt, don’t worry about it. You can just give it back to me whenever, it’s all good.”

Like that.

The door shuts with a short jingle. Chaeyoung and Seungkwan slowly turn back to you, mouths gaping. You feel like you just witnessed a bomb dropping in the distance and you’re left with the debris flying straight towards you.

You blink.  “I can explain.”

Seungkwan whips out his phone and immediately starts typing something in the search bar, while Chaeyoung leans over, hitting him enthusiastically on the arm, whispering loudly and rapidly. “Make sure to order the cake with custom frosting on the top! I’m thinking maybe in fancy cursive, ‘NOT BITCHLE—‘”

“Stop it!”

Needless to say, you return Mingyu’s shirt as soon as possible the next morning.

If this were Chaeyoung or even Seungkwan, you would have just thrown it in the wash with everything else at the end of the week, but this was different. The chaos that had happened after Mingyu left the shop and leftover cake in the back of your fridge (half-eaten, icing still managing to spell out the letters ‘N—T B —CHLE—’) had haunted you enough to be proof of that, so you cut your losses and piled in a premature load with scraps of other clothing around the house. If, by the end of the day, you had this wretched shirt off your hands, then it would be worth it.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself as you make your way to the beach. The absence of the surfboard atop your car was something you were still trying to get used to, but you try to tell yourself that it’ll get better eventually. That one day, maybe you’ll walk by your car and not have your eyes linger at that empty spot at all.

When you finally get to the beach, Mingyu is sitting at his regular spot at the lifeguard tower: binoculars hanging from his neck, sunglasses resting on his head, shirtless—just like always. Everything is normal. Nothing has to be weird.

“Mingyu!” you call, waving. He glances down somewhere in your general direction before his gaze finally catches on you, grinning the second he realizes who it is.

“Hey!” he greets brightly. “What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing much, just—” you take his neatly folded shirt out of your bag, holding it up so he can see. “I wanted to return this.”

Mingyu’s mouth opens slightly, a silent ‘ah’ forming on his lips before he waves you over cheerily. “Come on up!”

Instinctively, your response is to politely but firmly decline. After all, the last time you were up in that tower wasn’t exactly something you remembered fondly, and you didn’t want to be more of a bother to Mingyu than you already have been. You couldn’t stay for long anyway, so you try to deflect subtly.

“Oh, are you sure? I can just leave it—”

“Y/N…”

Even from a distance, his earnest concern in the gentle insistence makes it hard to say no. So you sigh, admit defeat once again, and respond with a single, “Okay.”

It’s how you find yourself up in that lifeguard tower once again, stepping cautiously past the bags lined against the wall, filled to the brim with miscellaneous supplies. Now that it was brighter, you could see what was in the tower better: the Hydroflask sporting a few dents on his desk next to a walkie talkie station and landline, an old safety protocol manual with its age shown in the sun-bleached pages, a big megaphone laying near the edge of it.

The place looked different in the daylight, none of the quiet intimacy that you had felt when you were here last. The sounds of waves crashing on the shore and families playing on the beach ring out in the air—children laughing as they chase each other around, the crackling of the charcoal as a family grills meat by the picnic tables further down. That night, it had just been you and Mingyu and the weight of everything you still couldn’t face, but now in the sun, the cold sea-chilled wind was now the warmth of daylight on your skin, all the things you had taken for granted given to you again.

“Thanks for the shirt,” you say, holding it out in front of you. “I feel like I didn’t say it enough when you let me borrow it.”

Mingyu laughs, running a hand through his hair while his other hand takes the shirt from you. “Seriously, it was no problem. You could have kept it if you wanted, you know.” 

He says it jokingly, but the implication of the words has your heart stuttering for a split second before you breathe out a slight laugh, pulling your hand back. “No, I’m good. But thanks.”

“What, you weren’t a fan?” Mingyu places the shirt inside his bag, careful not to mess up the folding you’d already done. “And here I thought everyone would have been honored to show off that they were ‘Raised On Rice’...”

You give him a lighthearted chuckle. “You know, I’m afraid I can’t say the same.”

Mingyu turns his head and hits his chest once, with feeling, exaggerated dismay written all over his face. “That hurt. Right here.”

You follow the motion, about to roll your eyes at his dramatics, but all of a sudden your eyes are lingering a little too long to be normal. Or appropriate.

“As much as I would love to agree,” you blink, focusing mostly on dragging your gaze above his bare chest (his eyes are up there), “I really think you’re the only one that could pull that off.”

MIngyu tilts his head, blinking, before the corners of his lips turn up slightly. “I dunno, I kinda liked you in it though.”

What the hell. What the actual hell.

“Do you say that to a lot of girls?” you manage, still trying to navigate your way back to normalcy. You were not doing this with Kim Mingyu, of all people.

Mingyu shrugs. “You’re the only one I’ve ever given my shirt to.”

You were so not doing this with Kim Mingyu! Except you are, and you have been this entire time, and you can practically hear the echoes of Chaeyoung cackling as the devil on your shoulder.

“Okay, well,” you grind out, praying desperately to swat away any memories surfacing where you’d heard other girls squeal about his glistening, defined muscles, or the swim shorts that sometimes rode a little too low on his waist, or the—Chaeyoung’s voice starts to meld in with your thoughts—idea of him having to perform CPR and giving mouth-to-mouth— “I have a shift soon, so I have to go, but I’ll see you around. Thanks again for the shirt.”

“Hey.” 

You stop mid-swivel and turn around slowly, peering up at him. His eyes shine too sincere for you to look away. “I’m serious, it was no big deal. I’d do it any time.”

Not just the shirt, you know he means, but everything that happened that night. The invitation to a safe place, the warmth of the diner, the way he had sat there with his hands cupped ready to catch everything you had spilled out. Heart lodging in your throat, you swallow hard before you respond. “Yeah, um. Same for you—if you ever wanna talk about anything.” 

“Of course,” he grins, the ‘thank you’ you’d almost tacked on at the end of your sentence understood without being said. “What are friends for?”

Before that night, you might have just brushed it off with a polite and restrained agreement and never thought about it again. ‘Friend’ had always been a loose word—maybe ‘former classmate’ or ‘acquaintance’ would have been better fitting to describe what Mingyu was to you. But now, as you stand in the middle of the lifeguard tower, the subtle scent of smoke from the family barbeque floating in the air, a mesh of different music from various speakers playing quietly alongside the chatter of ordinary beachgoers, you’re sincere when you answer.

“Right,” you smile back at him, warm. “Friends.”

You turn the knob to your front door carefully, entering your house with small steps. The lights to the living room were off, the kitchen was quiet, two pairs of shoes were still missing from the rack at the front.

Your parents weren’t home yet. You almost let out an audible sigh of relief.

It’s not as if you wanted to avoid them, but ever since the party, there was something a little awkward hanging in the air that none of you knew how to navigate. They didn’t want to be the ones to bring it up first, and you could never find the right time to talk about it—your parents both working long hours during the day and coming back home with aches in their necks and a plethora of new things to stress over. You just didn’t want to add onto the load of things they already had to think about.

Your mom had tried approaching you the night you came back, gently asking where you had gone and where your board was, but there wasn’t much to tell her, really. You’d settled for a short, ‘I went surfing and it broke,’ and left it at that; they already knew you were quitting, it wasn’t like telling them why your board broke was going to make any difference.

Setting your bag down on the couch, you shuffle into the kitchen in your house slippers and start prepping for dinner. If your parents weren’t home by now, that meant they would both be out until late evening today, which also meant it was better to just make something small for yourself for a meal. 

(The more you think about it, the better it sounds to just leave that night in the past. It would all smooth over soon enough, and you’re certain things will fall back to their normal rhythm well before you have to leave. Keeping it bottled up neatly inside of yourself, it was cleanest this way. It was fine—it would all be fine.)

But after you finish rifling through your fridge for ingredients, after you shut the door with a resonating snap, the old photo stuck to the front of the door stares back at you. Your dad had insisted on taking it in commemoration of your first time surfing—you, gap-toothed and smiling brightly in the middle, and your parents, grinning proudly with their arms wrapped around you.

And no matter how you try to convince yourself that you’ve long grown past that little girl in the photo, you know that she’ll always be a part of you, especially to your parents. The people who would gently blow on your barely-bleeding scratches and scrapes, the ones that would always be ready with a towel and your favorite snack every time you would come back to shore, dripping wet with fists clenched and tears brimming in your eyes. They would always be there with open arms, waiting until you were ready to come to them.

At the very least, you wanted to be a daughter that wouldn’t misplace their trust, someone who wouldn’t keep them waiting forever. You owe that to them; you owe that to the little girl you used to be. It’s why you needed to tell them everything.

(Though, that was easier said than done. If it were really that simple, you would have done it by now.)

You know if you try stalling and plan for the next day then you’ll keep stalling and never actually do it, so when your parents come home that night, you attempt to rip the bandaid off all at once. You ask them if they have time to talk and that you need to tell them something, but when they immediately agree, you worry far too late that you’d ripped that bandaid off before you were ready.

“So, that cake in the fridge,” you start, wringing your hands together. The granite counter is cool against your skin as you lean against it, grounding you in the middle of the kitchen.  “It was pretty good, right? Chaeyoung and Seungkwan said that it was the best they could find at the grocery store, especially since it was so last minute.”

Your parents give each other a confused look before nodding slowly, letting you ease into it without rushing. You’re not even sure where to go from here, if you should tell them only the necessary parts of the truth or lay down everything insignificant as well.  Maybe if you just kept talking, it would come out eventually.

“It’s funny actually,” you continue, palms clammy. “The only reason they got me that cake is because they think I’m dating Mingyu—I’m not, don’t worry! They’re just trying to be funny about it because he and I have gotten close recently. I mean I get why, I’ve been going on and on about how Mingyu working at the beach has made it a lot busier recently and for some reason I just kept seeing him around this summer and—”

“Y/N.”

Your breath catches. “Yeah, Mom?”

“Is this…about the party last week?” Your mom begins to take a step forward, but it doesn’t become more than a slight shuffle of her feet. “Because if it is, I’m the first person to agree that your aunt went too far last time! Don’t worry, we made sure to give her a good talking to after you left.” 

She nudges your dad lightly to back her up, but at his startled nod, your mom shoots him a dirty look before continuing. “Really, you would expect at her big age she’d know what’s appropriate to say and what isn’t! Your uncles came to your defense too, so everyone’s on your side! We made sure to chew her out real good, so you don’t need to talk about it anymore if you don’t want to—”

“No,” you interject. “No, it’s not that it’s…”

You could have taken the offer—and maybe a few days ago, you would have. Let your parents brush off whatever happened that night and leave it in the past, allow it to wash away into the tide with the waves. But they deserved to know; it was now or never.

“That night, I went to the beach.” Your words come out static. “And I tried surfing, and I wiped out so badly that my board broke because I wasn't thinking straight when I swam out.”

Your mom opens her mouth to say something with furrowed brows, probably something along the lines of ‘You should have told me if it was that serious,’ but your dad beats her to the chase. “Why did you go out then?” He has an instinctual scolding born from worry on the tip of his tongue; it was one of the very first things he’d ever taught you, before you even got on the board. “You’re not a child anymore, you should have known better—”

“I know.” Your fists clench at your side as you try to fight the shame that threatens to boil back up inside of you. “I know, it was stupid and a rookie mistake and something I shouldn’t have ever done, but—” Your voice breaks off. “I told you I wasn’t going to surf anymore.”

There’s a confused silence, one where you can’t gather the courage to look at their faces. “It’s not because I didn’t want to keep surfing, it’s because I felt like I had to stop.”

“Y/N, what—”

“I—” you interrupt. You have to get it out or you’ll never get a chance like this again, clumsy as your words may be. “I just—I don’t—” 

Pressure builds at the back of your nose and eyes as you try to fumble your way around the words, vision blurring. “I just wanted to make you proud.”

Your gaze locks onto the kitchen floor, nails digging into your palms. “I’ve only ever wanted to make you proud, and I know raising me wasn’t easy, and I wanted to pay you back for everything you’ve ever done for me. And I figured—” God, it sounds so stupid when you say it out loud, but how else could you say it? This was how you’d felt for the past four years. “If I gave up surfing to only focus on school, then maybe—I don’t know—” (fuck it, you’ve already made it this far.) “Then maybe all your sacrifices wouldn’t be wasted on me.”

There’s a beat of silence, one where your mom takes in a shaky gasp of air and your dad goes quiet, previous anger already forgotten. For a moment, it all feels like a mistake, something you can never take back. 

(But then again, it was better this way, wasn’t it? Like it was a necessary kind of hurting—to cleanse the wound, to feel it once and then let it heal for good.)

“You know we’d be proud of you no matter what you do,” your dad says, finally. He places a hand on your mom’s shoulder, to which your mom nods and touches her hand to his. “As long as you’re happy, that’s all we could ask for.”

The night in the diner comes back to you in brief flashes, Mingyu’s words echoing in your head. At the time, you had let it wash over you, a small warmth you’d allowed yourself to indulge briefly in the night, but it sinks in now, pooling in the pit of your stomach. He was right—of course he was. 

“Besides,” your dad says, joking, “if you really quit, then the real waste would have been all that money we put into surfing lessons when you were a kid—ow!”

Your mom jabs him sharply with her elbow, hissing out his name in a low voice. “What he means to say,” she intervenes, taking a step forward, “is that we would have done it all over again, because it was all for you.” Warm hands cup your face as your mom slowly raises your head to meet her eyes. She gives you a watery smile, brushing away the wetness on your cheeks with her thumbs. “We’re your parents, Y/N. Nothing could ever be a waste.”

Your dad places a hand on your shoulder, and you shift your blurry eyes onto him. He gives you a warm smile and a slight squeeze, and gestures his head to the door. “Come with me.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he starts, taking out the flashlight in the drawer. Walking towards the backdoor, he twists the knob and waits for you and your mom to follow, turning on the bright beam of the flashlight as he leads the way outside.

Your mom nods beside you, her hand in yours. You furrow your brows in confusion, realizing they were leading you towards the backyard shed. “We had a whole plan, you know! Complete with balloons and confetti and even a nice bow to stick on top of it.”

Unlocking the shed, your dad holds the door wide open, motioning for you to enter first. “We were hoping to give this to you at the grad party, but then after everything happened, but well…” Your mom ushers you in. “That party didn’t exactly go as planned either.”

“What are you guys talking about—”

The flashlight flicks onto the wall of the shed, and your question is cut short at the sight: a surfboard, brand new and unwaxed, its surface smooth and shining.

“When…” you gape. “When did you—“

“Like we said,” your dad answers, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “we bought it as a graduation gift. Before everything went down, obviously.”

“And,” your mom continues gently, “if you still decide to leave surfing behind when you go to school, we can always just keep it safe here—for when you come back.”

You wonder if it was always this simple, if you’d agonized over your dreams and your future and your own happiness for so long without even considering that you didn’t need to let one or the other go. All the pieces you’ve been desperately trying to not let spill out of your hands finally click into place, gently, and the realization makes you feel so silly you almost want to start crying again.

“Okay,” you sniffle, pulling both your parents into a hug. It’s almost like you were that little girl again, sand stuck to your damp skin, sea water dripping from your hair, running into her parents’ arms after a long day. Stable, safe, warm. “I’ll keep surfing.”

The rest of summer passes by in a blink of an eye.

After everything that happened the past month, you were grateful that the rest of your days at home were spent peacefully—afternoons working with Seungkwan at the shave ice shop, sleepovers with Chaeyoung where she tries to fit in a whole week’s worth activities into a single weekend, nights spent with your parents in the living room, T.V. playing in the background as you indulge in what little Family Movie Nights you have left. 

It falls into a smooth rhythm, one you come to expect every single day, the same rhythm that has you up in the early morning, sitting on your board as the ocean waves sway you gently atop the water. The sky washes a pale blue, a band of orange barely visible over the edge of the horizon. It’s a familiar sight, one you’ve become accustomed to ever since you’ve made it a habit to come to the beach every Saturday morning.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Hm?” You turn, tilting your head at the boy on the board next to you. “Nothing, really—why?”

Mingyu points at the dip between his brows, furrowing it in imitation. “You get this look on your face when you’re thinking too hard.”

“I do not!”

“Seungkwan and Chaeyoung can attest!”

You reach down to splash him with water, rolling your eyes at the yelp he lets out at the sudden attack. “Don’t even start with them.”

“I’m not even—” Mingyu starts, but shrinks away at the threatening look in your eye as you dip your hand into the water again. “You were thinking about something though.”

Sighing, you retract your hand. Mingyu visibly relaxes. “Just thinking about all the things I still have to pack when I get home.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow morning, right?”

You hum, nodding your head. “It’s an early flight and we have to get everything ready by tonight, so this is my last fun stop of the day.”

Mingyu leans back, water sloshing with the shift in weight. “You’re not hanging out with Seungkwan or Chaeyoung later?”

“I already saw them yesterday,” you reply, exasperated. “They tried getting me another cake but I put them on a cake ban because of what happened last time.”

He looks at you quizzically. “What happened last time?”

“That’s not important.” Clearing your throat, you redirect the conversation. “Anyway, why do you ask?”

“Seungkwan told me they wanted to throw one last surprise goodbye party.” Mingyu pauses. “Well, I guess it’s not really a surprise anymore.”

“Seungkwan just wants another excuse to throw a party where he can smuggle in alcohol,” you point out. “Besides, they’ve thrown me like, five this summer.”

Mingyu laughs. “Come on, I’m sure that’s not all there is to it. You know how he is, maybe he just wants to make the most of your time left and give you a goodbye you’ll remember. He’s really proud of you—you know that.”

After all, you were the only one leaving, really. Seungkwan was attending the local college on top of helping out at the family business on weekends, and even though Chaeyoung had decided to move back to another island, she was still attending the state school there. Seungkwan had induced quite the ruckus when you’d opened the acceptance letters together, complaining about how you were both leaving him to this boring town with his little shave ice shop as only companion. (And then a few weeks later, he’d given you one of the pineapple plushies they had on display at shop so that you could bring it to California without missing home.)

Your shoulders slump in defeat, half-heartedly kicking your leg under the water. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

“But the alcohol is probably a big reason too,” Mingyu adds.

You point at him triumphantly. “See!”

The tide picks up slightly, bobbing both of you gently with the water. A couple miles away, the waves crash on the rocks near the cliffs, just close enough to hear the ebb and flow of water on the shore. This far out, there was only you and Mingyu.

“After you leave,” Mingyu says, cutting through the low roar of the ocean, “that means we can’t do this anymore.” His voice carries an underlying hesitancy that you haven’t heard since that night of the diner, and instinctually, you go to deflect.

“You make it sound like I’m leaving forever,” you tease gently, but you know what he’s trying to say. It wouldn’t be the same.

(After you had received your new board, you’d gone almost immediately to tell Mingyu the good news. In turn, he’d invited you to come surfing whenever there was a high tide at sunrise on Saturdays, something that eventually settled into just sunrises on Saturday instead, regardless of the tide. It was why you were out in the water this morning, even without the waves—a habit that still clings strong.)

Mingyu runs a hand through his hair, droplets falling as he shakes his head a little. “Do you even know how many Saturdays are between now and when you come back? It’ll just be me during sunrises again… all alone…”

“You’re starting to sound just like Seungkwan.”

Mingyu counters with a single sad look resembling a sopping wet dog. You roll your eyes.

“Well, what are you going to do?” you ask. “You have a whole year before you go back to school.”

Mingyu contemplates, humming. “I’ve been thinking about traveling—see the world a little before I come back here and decide on anything else.”

You tilt your head, light glistening off the surface of the water. “Really? And go where?”

He shrugs. “Who knows? Australia, Korea, maybe I’ll  even go backpacking through Europe.” Mingyu stops, a teasing look in his eye. “Why, is there any place you want me to go?”

Your breath hitches, clamping your mouth shut. “I mean, not really, I was just—you know. I just thought…”

Mingyu props a finger to his chin and nods sagely, pondering far too long to be sincere. “I did hear California was nice… But it all depends.”

You eye him warily. “On what?”

“If you’ll let me.”

Fighting the initial swoop of your stomach, you stop and try to think realistically. Mingyu would be the same no matter where he went, and when you imagine what it would be like if Mingyu brought his earnest local boy charm over to the mainland, your nose wrinkles. It was already bad enough on your small island, but the image of his crowd of fangirls multiplying and spreading even more gossip about the new ‘hottie in town’ makes your head hurt just thinking about it. Maybe it was best if you waited until Christmas to go sunrise surfing with him again.

Mingyu thumbs the space between your brows and furrows his to mirror you, and you slap a hand over your forehead. “Oh, so you don’t want me in California?”

Your face burns, chest flushing as you whip your head back. “You are so annoying!”

You move to splash him again, but when you meet his eyes, expectation glows so sincere it makes you stop. Briefly, you wonder if the entire reason Mingyu presses so hard is because he knows it would be the only way for you to be honest about your feelings, especially concerning him. (On the other hand, he could just enjoy watching you squirm. It was probably a little bit of both. So annoying.)

“Well,” you mumble, turning your head to the other side. You try to test the words on your tongue, but it all comes out sickeningly sentimental and sweet no matter how you phrase it. “It wouldn’t be the worst. If you came to visit.”

Mingyu nudges you so suddenly you almost topple off your board, water splashing as you flounder to regain your balance. He wears a dopey grin, even as he grabs onto your arm again to stabilize you—cheeky and victorious, like he just caught the biggest catch of the day. “You should have just said so from the beginning!”

“For the surf!” you sputter, still recovering. Maybe a small dunk in the water would cool you off quicker. “I meant for the surf, don’t be ridiculous—”

Mingyu’s grin gets even wider, and even as you fumble for more excuses, you know nothing you can say would really help. He’d latched onto the truth, and no amount of water you tried to drown it under would ever make him let go. 

“So I’ll see you again?” Mingyu asks, and even with the teasing glint still left in his eyes, the sunlight in his eyes sparkles earnest.

There wasn’t much out here this early in the day, just the ocean and each other—and despite the embarrassment that floods your body, maybe you didn’t mind it all that much. The way it was just you and him.

“For the surf,” you repeat, tacking it on at the end of your nod, but the smile Mingyu gives you knows otherwise. Yeah. You didn’t mind that at all.

It’s the small, unexpected things you’ll miss when you leave: the sun-sated and salty skin, not just the paddle out to the open ocean and riding the wave, but the rush that comes from the return to shore, wanting to do it all again. A place you’ll always belong, no matter where you go. But really—

(The sunrise colors the sky in a peach-gold glow, and you follow the scattering of light across the water to meet Mingyu at the center of it all. There’s a fondness you can’t describe, but a feeling you understand all the same; the way the sight of the horizon and the sky and the ocean means love, the way it means home.)

—you think you’ll miss Kim Mingyu the most.

[wispywhiskersrattery]

I'm out cleaning my rodent facility today. I'm going to be meeting with people for orders tonight. Place them orders so we can help you help your Scale baby(s)!!! ✌️😁✌️😁✌️😁

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[daisylikesmedia]

Series 7 Episode 14: The Name of the Doctor

OKAY here we are, we made it to the finale of 7B. My opinion on this series hasn’t been particularly bright, let’s see if the ending is able to salvage the series for me. It’s time for us to review The Name of the Doctor.

So hey the villain! The Great Intelligence is back, and this time with these spooky whisper men. I think the design of these guys is kinda nailed, but I would’ve loved more build-up for the Great Intelligence’s return. Having them pop up in the Snowmen as the main antagonist and then as a call-back in Bells of St John is good, but I then proceeded to completely forget they existed until this final episode, which is a shame cause I think they are a kinda cool villain.

I do think though that this story uses the “Steven Moffat writes an 11th Doctor series finale” trope of going to a bunch of crazy high-concept places to its strength. The settings feel really creative in this episode, but also creative with purpose. The dream-scape used to communicate with everyone is shot and lit very well to create that trippy atmosphere, and Trenzalore’s graveyard & the overgrown TARDIS just look and feel sosososo cool. These locales also serve the plot well, which is SO important when often in these finales it can feel like we’re being dragged to these locations for seemingly no reason.

Also whilst I do like River Song, and think it was nice that she showed up for this, seeing her have such a prominent role in this finale despite her only appearing once before in this series did strike me as a bit odd. Sure the same thing happened in Series 5 but that series didn’t have the distinct 7A/B kinda deal Series 7 has, so it feels like worlds away since we last saw her. Would’ve LOVED to see Clara and her meet up in a story prior to this, or at the very least have her learn about River on screen, as it would’ve made her return feel a bit more earned.

Finally, we have the big mystery box to talk about, and y’know what Moffat fair play this one actually works. It’s revealed that the reason Clara is split all across the Doctor’s timeline is because she walked into it after the Great Intelligence did so, attempting to undo each one of the Doctor’s victories and friendships. What a wonderfully evil plan, and the self-sacrifice play from Clara is both completely in-character and makes sense logically. I’m a little disappointed that we don’t get any explanation in this story as to how the Doc & Clara escape the timeline, but it’s functional and doesn’t leave me confused, and that’s SAYING something for an 11th Doctor finale.

TL:DR/Overview: The Name of the Doctor is a well-written series finale, to a series of Doctor Who I didn’t particularly enjoy. It does a good job at making sense of the mysteries set during this series, and also has a strong creative edge to it. However, the lack of care that was taken to properly set up this finale lets it down. The Great Intelligence and River Song, two of the most important pieces of the puzzle here, were not even mentioned past the midpoint of the series, and that puts me in a tough spot when it comes to ranking this story. In isolation, it’s a high A tier story that satisfyingly resolves the series arc, but when you look at what came before, you can see that key parts of this finale just weren’t set up well. For this reason I’m gonna have to do what I did for Angels Take Manhattan, and keep it at a high and respectable B tier.

P.S: This story should’ve been called Tomb of the Doctor. This line is IN the episode and fits the episode SOOO much better than Name of the Doctor >:(. Woulda put this in the review but idk where it would’ve fit sdgfklj.

[lunaekalenda]

Hello! Can I get a head cannon or fic of Reiner going on a roller disco date? I know that white boy would have no rhythm but he would be SOOO into it lol

hi! sure!! reiner on dates i’m- <3 i hope you like it!!

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

❁ reiner x reader

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

Going to the roller disco was your idea. Reiner didn’t say no to it, so now you two are walking to the roller disco. Your hand is caged in his, and he carries a bag with your rollerblades. He insisted in taking your own rollerblades, and that was actually a good idea.

You look at him while he walks by your side. He looks so good today, his plain white t-shirt  marking his body and a sweet smile on his lips. He takes your hand to his mouth, kissing it softly. You two like to go on long walks, rollerblading together, but roller disco was another thing. It wasn’t speed roller, it was dancing.

Once you were in front of the local, he invited you to enter, opening the door for you. You enter and he follows you. The color lights of the disco are really pretty, making the disco ball shine in different colors. It wasn’t really crowded: just some couples enjoying a date and some friend groups having some fun. He takes your hand again, walking down the stairs, and reaching the place where you can leave your shoes. He puts his rollerblades on, and you do the same. Once you get up, he takes your waist between his hands, guiding you. You feel his breath against your neck.

"Should we enter, then?" he says. You nod and roll towards the bar. Reiner is pretty good at speed rollerblade, is a sport that he enjoys, but dancing is not his strength. The dance floor is almost empty, but shame is a word that's not on your dictionary. You enter, followed by Reiner. A catchy song is playing now, the DJ talking.

"So here we have another two brave people entering the disco!" You laugh when the DJ presents you two. People is dancing awkwardly, and a couple of them are rollerblading. You find a quite corner, and taking Reiner's arm, you stand there. You dance silly, making exaggerated movements, trying to make him dance as well. He laughs.

"Sweetie, you know how to dance." he says. It was true. You enjoy dancing a lot, that's why you spend afternoons in front of the tv, learning a new choreography until you execute it perfectly. Since Reiner doesn't like dancing that much, you use your time alone -while he is, for example, training.- to learn them. He danced a couple times with you, he likes those sweet songs made for couples to dance together. He likes to take your body against his, and feeling you dancing on his chest is one of his favorite sensations.

Anyway, the song playing now was really fast. That's why when Reiner tries to follow the rhythm, you laugh. He's not moving his feet at all, just using the upper body. He looks really funny. "Rein!" He smiles. You take his hands on yours, making him move a little bit more.

"Sweetie, not everybody can dance as well as you do." he says. You were about to answer when the music ended.

"Since the teenager friend group left the dance floor, and we only have some couples left, should we make this more... romantic?"

You know the disco usually changes between pop music and slow songs, so it wasn't a surprise for you when the DJ said that, right before changing the song. The one playing now is slow, and the man singing it has a sweet and powerful voice. Reiner smiles and looks around. The younger couples are awkward, looking at each other blushed. Other ones are hugging, static on their places. He takes your waist between his hands, and tells you to hug his neck. Then, looking at the floor, he starts to roll. He's aware to not tangle his rollers on yours, and avoid you two to fall. His hands are warm on your waist, and yours stroke his hair, near his neck.

"It's truly difficult to get closer using this things." he admitts, laughing. You nod, looking down to your feet. If you try to go closer, then you'll fall. You keep the distance he set earlier, even when you want to bury your head on his chest. Faster than you thought, the fast songs were back. Reiner was now in the mood for dancing, so he took your hands and, moving his hips funnily, invited you to dance. You laugh and join him, his strange movements making you smile, because you know he's enjoying it like a kid. You dance until your feet hurt, and your throat asks for a bottle of water. Taken by the hands, you two go to the bar, asking for some water.

"Are you having fun?" you ask. He's drinking some water, visibly tired. His chest goes up and down with fast breathes when he takes the bottle apart of his mouth. A big smile can be seen in his lips.

"It's really fun to be here. Even when dancing is not my thing." he laughs. "But I'm enjoying this so much. Thanks." You smile at him, before leaning towards him and leaving a soft kiss near his lips.

"I'm also enjoying this. We should come often." you say. Reiner looks to the dance floor and to the teenager group of friends dancing on it now.

"We should. But first, I need you to teach me how to dance."

[cozy-the-overlord]

Until Tomorrow

Summary:  Quarantine by itself is lonely enough. Quarantine amidst a rainstorm of biblical proportions is downright depressing. Lucky for you, a visitor arrives just in time to keep you company.

Word Count:  2,463

Pairing: Loki x Reader

A/N: Sooo..... I did a thing. I’ve never written fanfiction or reader-inserts before, but it was pouring rain last night and I’ve been reading so many quarantine fics on Ao3 that I thought I’d give it a whirl. I’ve never been more nervous about posting a story before... I hope you like it!

Also, I got an Ao3 account now, so you can read it here if you’d like

              It was raining.

              Although raining didn’t seem to do the weather justice. You couldn’t remember the last time you had witnessed such a torrential downpour. The pattering of raindrops rushing down your slanted roof had been drowned out by the wooshing of the fast-moving river that a few hours ago had been your street. Between the dark storm clouds and fog so thick you could cut it with a knife, you couldn’t make out exactly how bad the road was, but the waves that crashed against your window every time a car came skidding past your house told you that you weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

              Not that you currently had any great travel plans.

              You sat on the couch at your front window, a book lying open and ignored in your lap, watching water droplets race down the glass as a shiver raced down your spine. Usually, you loved the rain. You had grown where storms were a treasured rarity, where you’d insist your mother buy you rainboots for your birthday only for her to give them away a year later when they became too small, balls of paper still stuffed into their toes. Usually, when it poured, you’d run into your driveway with your head back and arms out, belting out “Singin’ in the Rain” as you attempted dance moves that would make Gene Kelly role in his grave, just because you could.

              But today, you didn’t feel like dancing. With everything going on right now, the rain seemed less like a cause for celebration and more like a sign of impending doom. It had been weeks since you left the sanctuary of your tiny suburban house. You were lucky, everything considered— your parents were safely quarantined in your childhood home on the other side of the country, from where they FaceTimed with you at least once a day.

              Your job was secure. That was one of the wonderful things about working for Tony Stark: the day everyone was sent home, the head man himself sent out an email swearing to keep everyone on the payroll through the quarantine, regardless of how long it lasted. He had even set up a system for delivering groceries to his employees: you texted a number with your order, and a few hours later a red and gold drone dumped a box of overflowing plastic bags on your doorstep. That was something your mom couldn’t get over—Iron Man bringing you milk!— and honestly the ridiculousness of it all made you want to giggle, too.

              Sometimes, though, it was all too much. It had been ages since you’d seen anybody, ages since you had heard another voice unfiltered by the garbled speaker of your cell phone. You had never considered yourself to be an overtly social person, but damn did you wish you had somebody here to talk to. Your mother had been trying for years to convince you to adopt a pet, insisting that it wasn’t healthy for you to be living completely alone, but you had always brushed her off, saying that you were working so often that you were rarely at home and it would be cruel to the animal. Now, you promised yourself that as soon as this was over, you were heading to the Humane Society.

              If this was ever over.

              Outside, the rain kept pouring. The trickling water seemed to be whispering to you—sinister promises of something worse yet to come. You curled tighter upon yourself, pressing your cheek to your knees.

              Let this end. Please, just let this end.

              A crash behind you startled you out of your thoughts. You shrieked, whipping around to see a figure standing in your living room, soaking bags sprawled about him, staining the carpet. He scowled.

              “Bloody rainstorm. You can’t see a damn thing out there.” He shook his head and began wringing out his hair, muttering in a language you didn’t understand.

              It was several moments before you could find your voice. Once you did, it slipped out cautiously. “Loki?”

              “At your service, my lady.” He gave a grand bow, his words dripping with sarcasm.

               You stared. You knew Loki, of course. You were familiar with all of the Avengers who lived in the tower—your office was located on one of the higher levels, and as a result it wasn’t uncommon to see celebrities like Dr. Banner or Captain Rodgers making their way across the floor to meet with one of your coworkers. Unlike the others, however, you had actually spoken with Loki.

              The two of you had a little run in a few months ago, when you were refilling your coffee mug at the break room. You were already on edge because Dr. Foster was visiting, Dr. Jane Foster, and word about the floor was that she would be stopping by with Thor to meet some of the higher-level workers at some point during the day. You felt silly for feeling so starstruck, but Dr. Foster’s work was on another level of world-shattering, and the thought that you might be shaking her hand by the end of the day had you all sorts of jittery.

              Then the coffee pot exploded.

              Exploded wasn’t exactly the right word. It was more like an eruption— all at once the pitcher just vomited its contents across the counter, up to the ceiling, all over the floor, writing like an animal and spitting out more coffee than it possibly could’ve been holding previously. With a scream, you threw the anthropomorphic pot to the floor, adding shattered glass to the absolute mess in the break room.

              There wasn’t time to comprehend what just happened before he was there, pulling you out of the puddle of lukewarm coffee.

              “Forgive me, that was not supposed to happen. Are you hurt?” Loki scanned your form with an anxious sort of urgency. There was a tinge of pink on his cheeks—if you hadn’t known better, you would’ve said he was blushing. “Are you hurt?” he asked again when you only gaped at him like a dead fish. “Burned? That was not meant—forgive me.”

              “No,” you finally said. The coffee hadn’t been warm enough to do any damage. “Just… my clothes—”

               He waved his hand, and the sticky moisture clinging to your front disappeared. You ran your hand over your shirt, now dry and stainless. That’s useful.

               “Are you certain you are uninjured?” he asked. “I swear, that was not what I intended—”

               “I’m fine.” Now that the shock had worn off, you found yourself stifling the urge to giggle. “What were you trying to do?”

               Loki looked embarrassed. “My brother has the tendency of laying claim to the refreshments of any floor he visits, without leaving anything for those working on said floors. I thought I’d teach him a lesson.” He cast a glance back at the mess behind him. “The charm was meant only to react to him. I suppose I made a mistake in casting it.” He turned back to you. “I am sorry.”

               You smiled. “It’s alright. I guess I could use a bit of excitement in my life.”

               He grinned. “Words to live by.”

               After that, you had been friendly. You’d greet each other when you walked by one another, you’d make small talk in the elevator if you were riding together, he’d hold the door for you if he had the chance. Nothing serious, nothing even that personal really, just office-friendly.

              Definitely not crashing-unannounced-into-your-living-room-during-a-rainstorm-in-the-middle-of-a-pandemic friendly.

              “What—?” you sputtered, springing off the couch. “What are you doing here?”

              Loki dramatically gestured to the bags on the floor. “It seems I have been relegated to the status of a delivery boy.”

              Craning your neck, you recognized the label of your local grocery market. You frowned. “Did—did you bring me groceries?”

              The Asgardian in your living room huffed irritably. “You had an order for today, did you not?”

              You nodded slowly. Yes, you were waiting on an order today, and now that you were looking you could see that it was sprawled across the floor at Loki’s feet: a carton of orange juice, a tub of ice cream, a bag of potato chips… but what was Loki doing dropping off food for you?

              He sighed. “Stark, in his infinite wisdom, failed to consider the effect of such the elements—” he gestured to the monsoon outside your window “—on his mechanical messengers. As I am the only individual he knows with means of instantaneous travel, I have been encouraged to assist with deliveries. I am—what is the phrase?—making the rounds, if you will. ”

              “Oh.” You found yourself at a loss for words, likely looking every bit as dumbfounded as when you first met in the break room. You mentally slapped yourself. “Um… thank you. Here,” you moved to collect to foodstuff off the carpet, “I can, uh, start putting things away—”

              With one swift motion, Loki scooped everything up. “Allow me. Just tell me where you want me to put it.” You glanced up at him cautiously. He raised his eyebrows.

              “Uh, okay.”

              He followed you into your kitchen, and you cringed as you realized how truly disgusting your sink was. It had been ages since you had the motivation to do the dishes, and they had been piling up in your sink like the leaning tower of cheap ceramics for at least a week now. Loki didn’t say anything though. At your direction, he placed the bags on the counter and watched as you silently put the contents away.

              Even amidst all the awkwardness, there was something soothing about his presence. For the first time in weeks, there was a living, breathing person in your house, someone real to talk to and laugh with. So when Loki said that he had to finish his deliveries, the question that popped out of your mouth was birthed by pure desperation.

“Do you want something to drink before you go?” you asked. “Like, a glass of water? Or… I have coffee, if you don’t mind it being reheated.”

              If Loki was surprised by your offer, he masked the emotion quickly with a smirk. “Do you really trust me with coffee?”

              You giggled. “I don’t know. Can I?”

              “You shouldn’t trust me with anything,” he said, slipping into one of the seats at your kitchen table. “But I think we can make an exception just this once.”

              You sat and talked for nearly an hour, sipping your microwaved coffee as the rain pounded on the roof. Loki had plenty of quarantine stories from the Tower, stories that always seemed to end with Thor accidentally blowing something up.

              “He is not used to staying in such a limited space for this long of a time period,” he said reflectively. “I think perhaps confinement is having a detrimental effect on his intellect. Stark has installed a ‘Days Without an Accident’ count at the kitchen table, and thus far my brother has managed to reset it every day.”

              You snorted. “That sounds hilarious. I wish I was there to see that.”

              “No, you don’t. Everyone is fed up with everyone else.” Loki stared into his mug absently. “They have been starting altercations over the minutest details. It’s quite chaotic.”

              You frowned. “Aren’t you supposed to like chaos?”

              “When it’s within my control. This is far beyond that.” He took another sip, emptying it. “You are lucky to live alone. I would gladly welcome the peace you have here.”

              “I don’t know. There’s not much to do in here.” You held in a sigh. “It gets kind of depressing after a while.”

              Loki cocked his head, brow furrowed. “You are lonely?”

              Your cheeks heated with embarrassment. It was such a menial complaint to have, especially when so many others were suffering. “Kind of,” you muttered. “It’s not so bad, though.”

              Loki continued pressing. “You have access to communication, yes?” he asked, leaning forward. “I thought all of you mortals were addicted to your cellular devices.”

              “Yeah,” you replied slowly. “But it’s not the same thing as, you know, actually talking to someone. Like, when they’re actually there.”

              “I understand.” He reached out to set his mug on the table. Somewhere hidden under your smile, your heart sank. He’d be leaving soon.

               Loki cleared his throat. “If you would like,” he said, “I could pay you a visit every so often, as we are doing now.”

              What?

              “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you rushed to say, even though the thought of having a regular visitor sent your pulse thrumming.

              “No, but I think I would appreciate the respite. Today has been quite lovely, if I may say so.” He smiled— a genuine smile, not a smirk or a grin—and you felt rather silly for the way your heart seemed to soar. “Of course,” he added quickly, “if you don’t wish for my company, I completely—”

              “No!” The volume of your voice made you cringe. Jeez, he must think you haven’t spoken to anyone in months. “No, I—if you want to come over, then…” For a moment, you fumbled with your words, searching for an eloquent way to accept his offer. “I’d like that,” you finally said, giving up. “I’d like that a lot.”

              He laughed. “In that case, I’ll stop by tomorrow.” When he stood, you stood with him, following him back to your living room where he had left the groceries you hadn’t claimed. “I do need to be going now, though,” he said, scooping up the remaining bags. “The last thing I need is Stark having a fit over my failure to deliver his employees’ groceries on time.”  He nodded at you. “Thank you very much for the coffee.”

              “No problem,” you said. “Thanks for—thanks.”

              He chuckled. “Until tomorrow, my lady.”

              “Until tomorrow.”

              And just like that, he was gone. It was a noiseless disappearance: one moment he was there, the next, you were once again alone with the pouring rain. With a sigh, you made your way back to the couch, scooping up your book off the floor. Once again, however, you found your attention drifting to the water running down the window, the rushing waves of your street outside. Nothing had changed, and yet it seemed so much less frightening than it had an hour before. No, now, it was almost soothing. You had the sudden urge to run out on to your driveway and belt “Singin’ In the Rain.”

              I should’ve done that while Loki was here, you thought sleepily, pressing your cheek to the cushion. He would’ve gotten a kick out of that.

              Maybe you could, if it was still raining tomorrow.

              Tomorrow.

              You dozed off to the peaceful lullaby of the rainfall, smiling softly and thinking of tomorrow.

[sapphireglyphs]

Thanks for the tag, Amy my dear! @shineyma ❤ Also, you moved to Louisiana?! How is this the first time I’m hearing about this?! O_O *sigh* we need to catch up, friend!

1. What is the color of your hairbrush? So my current hairbrush I got while I was in Hawaii for my middle sister’s wedding. The head of the brush is an iridescent lime-yellow with black bristles and yellow tips. The brush’s handle has a quilted-patterned silicone for a comfy, semi-squishy grip. I got it bc it reminded me of a pineapple.🍍 

2. Name a food you never eat. Banana; I’m allergic. 

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold? Too warm. 🥵

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago? The 7Leaves drive-thru for my morning milk tea. 

5. What’s your favorite candy bar? Reese’s Fast Break or a Twix.

6. Have you ever been to a professional sports game? I don’t think so...

7. What is the last thing you said out loud? “Ah! Sorry water bottle!” (I knocked him over on accident 🥺)

8. What is your favorite ice cream? Pistachio

9. What was the last thing you had to drink? Milk tea

10. Do you like your wallet? So... I have a thing for mid-end wallets and purses... it puts a strain on my bank account but I make do. The very first time I saw my current wallet was on Ebay and it was love at first sight. The problem was it was an older design so it was harder to find for less than $100. So I waited and waited and waited whilst also scouring the internet for months looking for one that was reasonably priced in the color I wanted... and I nearly gave up when, lo and behold, it was going on sale for $60 bucks plus free shipping on some outlet website! I had to triple checked the website (make sure it was legit) before I shelled out the cash for my prize and the rest was history~ 😍

11. What is the last thing you ate? Lunch.

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? Not last weekend.

13. What’s the last sporting event you watched? Oh my goodness... it has legit been so long since I’ve watched any sports elated anything (besides the occasional sports-like competition on my weekly variety shows)...  

14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn? I’m not a huge popcorn fan (mainly bc when it gets stuck between my teeth it can get really painful) but California’s own “Gaslamp Popcorn” Malibu Mix, which combines the company’s signature Sea Salt & Olive Oil, White Cheddar and Kettle Corn flavors is like crack. Arguably, the best popcorn in existence!

15. Who is the last person you sent a text message to? My friend Anson. 

16. Ever been camping? Does 6th grade camp count as camping?

17. Do you take vitamins? Not regularly.

18. Do you regularly attend a place of worship? No - it used to be a family thing. So now I only go to my local temple for New Years. 

19. Do you have a tan? I don’t tan, I typically just burn.

20. Do you prefer Chinese or pizza? It depends on what I’ve had recently.

21. Do you drink your soda through a straw? Only if I’m given a straw. 

22. What color socks do you usually wear? I typically wear nylon socks bc of the flats I wear to work so they’re mostly nude or black. 

23. Do you ever drive above the speed limit? More often than I care to admit unless I am distracted (which is not great either way). 😅

24. What terrifies you? Not being able to find someone to call my own. 

25. Look to your left, what do you see? Water bottle, can of compressed air, pencil pouch, sunglasses, glasses, and old receipts. My table is a mess. T_T 

26. What chore do you hate most? I hate cleaning the bathroom... ugh! I’m getting a headache just thinking about it! 

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? Jake Sim of Enhypen reading his lines for their debut trailer. 

28. What’s your favorite soda? Every holiday season I would get my all-time favorite soda, Canada Dry (Cranberry) Ginger Ale... when it’s not in season, I typically drink clear sodas like 7-up or Sprite... and ginger ale. 

29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? Drive thru.

30. What’s your favorite number? 9

31. Who’s the last person you talked to? My mom.

32. Favorite meat? Fish.

33. Last song you listened to? "All Night” ASTRO. K-pop playlist on shuffle~

34. Last book you read? Ah… I haven’t been reading anything outside of fanfics lately. The last like novel I started reading but never finished was “A Thousand Beginnings and Endings” by Ellen Oh… I should pick it back up again.

35. Favorite day of the week? Tuesday.

36. Can you say the alphabet backwards? I think so but not nearly as fast nor proficient as I would be the right way around. 😆

37. How do you like your coffee? I don’t typically drink coffee but when I do I like it so sweet and creamy it shouldn’t be considered coffee any longer. 

38. Favorite pair of shoes? I have the cutest pair of navy blue ballerina flats with scalloped edges and a tiny gold bow atop each side.

39. Time you normally get up? Lately it’s been late... usually around 9-9:30?

40. Which do you prefer: sunrise or sunsets? I think I prefer sunsets.

41. How many blankets on your bed? 1 comforter is usually more than enough for me.

42. Describe your kitchen plates. Vintage, milky white chinaware with scalloped edges and a pink cherry blossom pattern. Circa France,1960.   Florentine by Arcopal.

43. Describe your kitchen at the moment. Pretty damn clean but that’s bc yesterday was the holidays, so my mom was in a cleaning mood. 

44. Do you have a favorite alcoholic drink? I don’t drink.

45. Do you play cards? My family plays a Thai version of Old Maid called “Dummy”. It’s kinda’ addicting but I can’t play it by myself which sucks. 

46. What color is your car? Dark blue. 

47. Can you change a tire? Nope. 😕 I should probably learn how to do that...

48. Your favorite state or province? I’ve only been to a few and I think like Washington best... but Cali is where all my friends are sooo...

49. Favorite job you’ve had? Clerk typist for the elementary school I worked for.

tagging: @cancered-gemini​ @omiyukio​ @nosevenadapresente​ @cerberus-angel​ @doiloveyou-myohmy​ @safelycapricious​ @moonladymusings​ and anyone else who fancies killing some time!

[peachylixir]

3 Times Aizawa Smiled & 1 Time He Laughed

For the Day 2 prompts of EraserMicWeek: Smile/Jealousy AO3 Link On the Job Occasionally, when Shouta was on patrol and Hizashi couldn’t sleep, he would sit on the couch and flip to channel 4, the only local news station that would provide late-night coverage in real time. Oftentimes, there was little worthy of report, but every so often there would be a crime bust exciting enough to be covered in the reporter’s effort to get it on tv before the morning stations did. If he was extra lucky, sometimes he’d get to see a glimpse of his husband leaving the scene after saving the day. 

Today was apparently one such day, for as he stared mindlessly at the tv screen, a glimpse of a long white scarf in the background caught his eye. He sat up, clutching a throw pillow and grinning stupidly. The cameraman seemed to finally notice the underground hero and zoomed in on him, providing Hizashi a clear view of the young girl Shouta was kneeling beside.  She couldn’t have been older than six years old, and given the situation (a near kidnapping, according to the news), she should have been trembling with fear. And yet, she was nodding along to whatever Shouta was telling her, clutching one end of his scarf in her tiny fists. By the tilt of her blonde head, she appeared to be asking him a question. There was no audio for Shouta’s response, but the smile he gave her was so tender and reassuring that Hizashi felt his heart leap in his chest. Just as he was considering pulling out his phone and snapping a picture of the moment, it shattered as Shouta finally noticed the cameraman and abruptly stood, glaring harshly at the reporters. He turned to make his escape, but not before giving the young girl one last wave goodbye. Hizashi ended up dozing on the couch, clutching the pillow to his full heart.  For a Friend Shouta was of the mindset that laughter directed as Ms. Joke never counted because she was probably throwing a bit of her quirk in the punchline. Hizashi was inclined to agree. Although, he couldn’t help but feel a little bad for her as yet another one of her jokes fell flat. Shouta was a tough audience; he himself knew that better than anyone. There was a sharp huff to his right, the beginnings of a laugh, but by the time he turned his head, Shouta’s expression was schooled back into a red eyed glare. “Aww, you’re no fun,” Emi whined. Despite her complaint, she looked largely unruffled, broad grin still plastered on her face. Hizashi would never admit that he finds it a little unnerving. “Don’t you have a show to put on?” Shouta asked rather pointedly. He gestured to the empty stage of the comedy club, sparsely decorated with a stool and a lonely microphone. She waved off his concern.  “I still have some time. Will you two be staying to watch?” Shouta and Hizashi briefly exchanged glances. The latter won their silent argument easily and turned to her in bright agreement.  “Of course we will, girl!” Hizashi hooted, winking at her. She pretended to swoon. “I knew I could count on my husband, but this? The support is more than my little heart can take!” she sighed, turning dramatically away from them. She snuck a glance at Hizashi, a familiar question in her eyes. “I guess this makes you my husband’s husband? My husband in law? First husband, twice removed?” Hizashi’s smile stiffened. “I’ve told you that just my name is fine.” “Great! Well, anyway I’ll be testing out some new acts tonight, so let me know what you guys think, okay?” Now that was an easy thing to agree to. Back in their U-A days, she and Hizashi had been part of the Theatre Club together. Though she preferred to audition for comedies, they both shared a flair for the dramatic that had made them great stage companions. They would spend hours after school practicing their lines together, and when Shouta eventually joined them in their second year in the form of stage crew, he became their test audience. Fond memories and genuine encouragement warmed the blond’s tone when he told her, “Break a leg.” Her grin was nearly blinding as she shot some finger guns back at him. “Bust a gut.” It wasn’t until halfway through her routine, when the crowd was agreeable and her cheeks were flushed from the spotlight, that Hizashi noticed it. She was telling a story about a time she got chased down four city blocks by a lapdog. He heard a soft huff to his left. There, in the dim lighting of the comedy club where it was impossible for anyone to see, Shouta was smiling, looking somehow both amused and tender at once as he gazed up at their old friend. Hizashi’s heart twists, wrapping itself around the complicated emotions he’s always held towards Emi as redirects his gaze towards the stage.  Just Between Them Shouta’s reasons for not liking Toshinori had always been a little hazy. He never really went into explicit detail about his distaste for the proclaimed Symbol of Peace, even with Hizashi, because he was never the type to speak ill of someone behind their back, but he said enough to imply that they had a fundamental disagreement in teaching styles. Still, dangerous experiences brought people together; heroes were no exception. So it came as no surprise that Shouta warmed up to Toshinori after the USJ incident and even moreso after the learned of his true form.  What was surprising however was how well they seemed to get along now. Still not best friends by any stretch of the imagination, but Shouta went out of his way to invite the new teacher places, extending a welcome whenever some of the faculty went out for lunch. In return, Toshinori seemed to seek out Shouta for teaching advice and generally amiable conversation whenever Shouta seemed to be in a pleasant enough mood to tolerate idle chatter. Hizashi was genuinely happy about this development. A strong advocate for teamwork and getting along with others, it pleased him to see his husband playing nice with other heroes, especially in such tumultuous times as U-A faced. That didn’t quash the tendrils of jealousy rearing up from his gut when he saw them together. During third period one day, Hizashi was planning on giving his class a pop quiz, but as he passed them out, he realized he was a few copies short. Giving his class a stern look, he made them promise to sit quietly while he ran to make more. As he skidded into the teacher’s lounge, he overhead voices speaking in quiet tones. As he awakened the copy machine from sleep mode, he glanced up to see Shouta and Toshinori loitering by the coffee machine. They seemed to be deep in conversation, though about what he couldn’t tell from there. A few button presses later and the copy machine was whirring to life. Figuring he had a minute until the copies were complete, he decided to say hello.  “Yo, Eraser! All Might,” he called, wiggling his fingers when they turned at the sound of his voice. “Ah, good morning, Present Mic,” Toshinori replied with a polite nod of his head. His respectful mannerisms seemed so at odds with his larger than life hero persona, but it was a lot better than being obnoxiously rude like Endeavor. “Morning, Mic.” The copier begins to spit out at its usual slow, only sometimes reliable pace. Hizashi tapped his fingers impatiently against the machine.  “Sooo,” he drawled, eyeing their proximity. Shouta usually didn’t like standing so close to people if he could help it. “What were you two talking about over there?” It was an innocent question, or at least it should have been, but then the strangest thing happened: the two pros shared a furtive glance. Toshinori seemed flustered the way he always did when trying to come up with a lie, and Shouta looked markedly amused, the corners of his lips turned up in a smile. “Nothing really. Just discussing a few of my students,” Shouta told him easily, waving off the inquiry. Logically, Hizashi knew that it probably involved Toshinori’s obvious favorite, Midoriya. Jealousy wasn’t rational though, so he turned away to hide the ugly twist to his lips. “Ah, of course!” He replied neutrally, snatching up his still warm quizzes. “Well, I have a class to return to, so gotta jet. See ya guys later!” If he slammed the door behind him on the way out, well, then it couldn’t be helped.  Love & Laughter “What’s wrong?” Hizashi looked down to find Shouta staring at him, head resting comfortably on his chest as they lay in bed, legs tangled together. “What makes you think something’s wrong, babe?” Shouta released a huff of frustration. “Don’t play dumb. You’ve been tense all week.” Hizashi grimaced. In hindsight, he should have known better than to expect to hide something from his partner, but he was still ashamed of himself for being so obvious about it. A small part of it recognized Shouta’s perception as a show of affection, a sign that he knew him well and cared enough to notice when something was wrong. The thought soothed him.  “It’s just… I’ve been thinking, right?” He started, speaking slowly to stall for time while he chose his next words. “When we first met, I used to make you laugh all the time. In fact, sometimes it felt like no one else in the world could make you smile as much as I did.” There was a curiosity to Shouta’s answering hum, but all he said was, “That’s not how I remember it, but sure.” “Maybe not,” Hizashi conceded. “But that’s how it felt to me. I considered it a huge success whenever I got you to crack a smile.” “Where are you going with this?” Hizashi blew out a puff of air and ran his fingers over his lover’s scalp. He spent a minute carefully picking out the words he wanted to use before deeming them all useless; he blurted out instead, “I’m a little jealous at how you’ve been smiling at literally everyone but me lately.” Shouta stared at him. “Seriously?” “Yeah.” He sat up, adjusting himself so that he was seated comfortably on his partner’s lap. “Seriously, Hizashi?” he repeated, lips twitching. “I already said it once, Shouta. Please don’t make me repeat myself,” he grumbled, twisting his face into a pout even as his arms wrap around Shouta’s waist. “You just don’t get how valuable your smiles are.” “Apparently not.” The muscles in his cheeks jumped as he tried his damnedest to suppress his laughter. Even if it was at his own expense, Hizashi couldn’t help but admire the expression. “Don’t get me wrong, I love seeing you get along with other people because it just proves to the world that you’re really the big softie I know you to be-” A snort escaped Shouta. “Tell that to the kids at school.” Hizashi huffed. “That’s different. That’s just… strategic meanness. Tough love is still a kind of love.” “Perhaps, but we’re getting a little off-topic now, ‘Zashi. Quit stalling.” “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He sighed, burying his face in the crook of his husband’s neck. “I don’t mean to get jealous,” he mumbled in the warm skin beneath his lips. “I know it isn’t logical and I know you hate irrational things, but I can’t help that I feel it sometimes. Your smile means a lot to me, and I just feel like I haven’t gotten to see it as much as I used to. I want to be the one who puts it back on your face. I want to know that I’m making you happy.” Shouta body shuddered in his lap, but Hizashi barely had time to feel confused when he heard a hearty burst of laughter escape his husband’s chest. “Wha-?” He pulled back just enough to stare in wonder as Shouta laughed hysterically, rare tears appearing as specks at the corner of his eyes as he shook with mirth. Hizashi wanted to feel offended, to ask what was so funny, but he couldn’t find any anger in him when the love of his life had such pure… joy on his face. Eventually, Shouta calmed enough to speak, gently cradling Hizashi’s face in his hands as he spoke. “You idiot,” he said fondly. “How can you ever doubt that you make me happy?” Hizashi felt his cheeks flush under Shouta’s unwavering gaze. “Next time you feel those irrational feelings, I want you to remember this moment, so that you can fight those doubts. I love you, Hizashi. You make me happy, and you always have. I may not always show it externally because well, that just isn’t me. The idea that other people make me happier than you is laughable. Don’t you ever forget that, got it?” He punctuated his statement with a firm press of their lips, as though he could push all his love and reassurance through to his husband’s thick skull. Hizashi’s hand came to rest at the back of his head to deepen the kiss. By the time they pulled away, both men were beaming. 

[coralsgrimes]

I have to agree, the fan pics have not been great, no they haven’t. That could just be rubbish phone cameras, bad angles or bad lighting though. Here’s my theories re the past couple of fan pix:

The fan is apparently from Vienna and mentions ‘her favourite café’ so yes, it could have been local to her. But I’ve often referred to places in cities I’ve only visited as my favourite café/bar/restaurant so that could also be the case, and it’s somewhere she found and likes to hang out in on her trip to Budapest. She won’t say where it was taken so we probably won’t ever know. Unfortunately Jessie and Daisy are even less active on SM than Benny so no hints from them either!

The rest of the cast were on a field trip a couple of days ago, so maybe Benny & Co also headed out on one (train pic with mum/baby). It’s a possibility. I would also expect to see at least one or two more fan pix emerging of them in Vienna as no doubt Benny would insist on some sightseeing and/or museum trips and they’d surely be recognised. None so far!

Or, he never left Budapest and was on a local Metro/tram/bus for the baby pic and in a local café for this most recent one.

You decide! 😁

YEPPP! the fan pics are just meh meh ;c me thinks that boy is just meh meh lately ;ccc and being in public does him no favor. mood tho

NOWWWW WOW why I'm not surprised? We are not stalkers but tell us where boy is right now and if there is a diamond on that finger x.x how many times we been through it by now?

All I can see for sure is that the pic is not from today as is said in the tweet and the instagram linked to the twitter acc is saying 'the fran lebowitz of vienna'.

Beside that I have seen fan accounts stating the pic was taken on Saturday in Vienna. So maybe they bullied the poor girl enough to get that info?

Mind ye that the baby pic was posted on the 12th which was Saturday lol and the same accounts screamed that it was taken the same day as well, meaning Saturday but in Budapest x.x might been taken the same day in two capitals anyways lol but boy deff wears different rags in both ;cc sooo no idea what is true and what is not x.x not sure if we will ever know lol but boy popping out on a trip? HMMMMMMMMM boy knows how to go undercover soooo dead end id say ;c

Fun to follow Benny trail tho xddd been a while ;c

Good to know that even when Benny is working hard, and he has a moment free, instead of working on more music he takes breaks to get a massage or go sightseeing to another country during pandemic that is still very much here but no one cares anymore... Too many war refugees in Budapest to leisurely enjoy the city? Ma poor boy :c people protesting and screaming about orban/putin connections, two weeks before the elections, right outside his windows probably ain't helping either. His life so fucking hard rn I can't even imagine 🙊 as they say in them internets //s but not really tho

[callibop]

Royai Week Day 5 Prompt: Summer

Title: Summer Days

Rating: G

Word Count: 1734

Ship: Roy & Riza (they’re just kids here)

Summary: Set in the "Rules and Regulations" universe, young Roy and Riza spend time at the local watering hole on a hot summer afternoon.

Read it on Ao3: Here

Summer never seemed to come quickly enough for Riza Hawkeye. She missed the extra long days when the sun never seemed to set. She liked having time after she finished her chores to go out and lay in the soft grass of her backyard, and watch the clouds drift by. Summer was the only time her father let her spend time with the other children, since they were out of school for a few months. There was a… well, it wasn’t quite a lake, but it wasn’t a pond either, nearby.

And this summer was different. This summer, Riza Hawkeye had a friend to take with her. Her father’s student, Roy Mustang. He had spent every moment of his time studying or sleeping or eating. But it was Summer time now. Surely her father would allow him a few days of respite from the doldrums of learning alchemy.

Riza raced through her morning chores, taking a few minutes to greet their chickens. Nicolas and Perenelle were doing well, as was Zosimos. A little ways off in the yard, Theo (short for Theophrastus) and François were pecking at the grains Riza had thrown on the ground. She wished there were more female Alchemists in history, but all of the names her father had given her were from men. She loved her chickens. They were her best friends before Roy arrived.

She walked back to the house to start on breakfast, and was unsurprised to see Roy Mustang already in the kitchen. He had started trying to help her with her chores in order to spend more time with her.

“Mr. Mustang, what are you doing up so early?”

“I’ve told you before, Riza. It’s just Roy. Besides, I thought I’d help with breakfast. Is that alright?”

“I can do it myself,” she muttered. Secretly, she was glad to have his presence. It was always nice to have another set of hands helping with the meals, and it would most likely be just the two of them eating breakfast anyways. Father slept late in the mornings, and rarely ate during the rest of the day.

“But you like the company. How are the chickens?”

“They have names, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah. All after famous alchemists. What an odd choice.”

“I thought father would like them better, that’s all.”

Roy shrugged, and Riza smiled at him. “Well, they looked like they were having fun with you, Miss Hawkeye.”

“They’re good girls. Even if they have boy names. It’s not my fault there aren’t any famous female Alchemists!”

“Well… Why don’t you try to become one?”

“Father says I don’t ‘possess the mental fortitude required’ or somethin’ like that. I could do it if he’d just let me look at the books.”

“I don’t doubt that in the slightest.”

They set to work on making breakfast, pancakes and fresh eggs. Riza was so excited, and absolutely nothing could dampen her spirits. She thought she saw Roy smiling at her a little more often as she danced around the room, working on cooking things. She had so many exciting things planned for the day.

“Is father going to make you do lessons today?” Riza asked once they finished breakfast. She was busy washing the dishes while Roy dried them and put them away.

“I don’t know. I’m hoping not. It’s been a while since I’ve had a break and I could use a little bit of relaxation time. Was there something you needed?”

“It’s just… it’s Summer. And usually I’m allowed to go out with the other kids and I don’t know if you’re interested but maybe you’d wanna go out to the… Well, it’s… Kind of a lake? A lot of the local kids like to go swimming there, since it’s finally getting warm an’ all… And you could come too.”

“Well, I’m not sure if he has anything planned, but if he doesn’t, that sounds like a lot of fun. I’ll see what your father has to say, and then we’ll see about going down this afternoon?”

“Yeah!” Riza was beaming. “It’d be nice to have you come down. I betcha everyone would love to meet you! You haven’t really talked to anyone in town, huh?”

“Not the kids, no.” Roy smiled. “You’ll have to introduce me to everyone, okay?”

“I can do that,” Riza replied easily, still so excited by the thought of the two of them spending the afternoon together with other children. She was bright-eyed the rest of the morning, as Roy went to ask her father for the day off from his studies.

***

That afternoon, Riza pulled on her bathing suit, covering it with a light sundress. Roy Mustang was sitting on the couch, waiting for her. He had on a t-shirt and some old-looking shorts.

“Ready?” she asked, rocking back and forth on her heels. Her excitement hadn’t dissipated at all.

“Lead the way, Miss Hawkeye.”

She practically pulled him out of the house, through the yard, and onto the well-worn dirt road that lead down to the local meeting place. As they got closer, they could hear the shouts and cheers of children as they walked. It took only a few minutes for Riza to drop his hand and race down the rest of the path, her whoops joining those of her friends.

It was only after she had already begun to greet everyone that she remembered Roy. She turned around, embarrassed smile on her face, and waved him over. He strode in with an awkward grin.

“This is Roy,” Riza began. “He’s studying Alchemy under my father.”

There were several excited ooo’s and ahhh’s about Roy’s abilities. Riza smiled. Having Roy come was a brilliant idea. Everyone would like her again. She would no longer be “Berthold Hawkeye’s weird daughter.”

“Hey! Show us some Alchemy!” One of the kids yelled.

“Oh yeah! Show us something cool, Roy!” Riza echoed, hope on her face.

She watched as Roy knelt, using a stick to draw a circle in the dirt. With a moment of concentration, he placed his hands on the edge of the circle, and from the dirt rose a little figurine of a bird. The kids clapped their hands in delight, and Riza joined them. Alchemy truly was amazing.

“C’mon Riza! Let’s go swimmin’!” One of the girls called, grabbing Riza’s hand and pulling her toward the swimming hole. Riza nodded, pausing only for a moment to pull her dress up and over her head. She let it fall to the dusty ground and ran into the still slightly chilly water. She shrieked for a moment, but then sank beneath it, letting it soak her hair and skin thoroughly. It was only when she came up that she noticed Roy staring at her.

“Well? What’re you waitin’ for! The water’s great!” She waved him over. Roy walked slowly, stooping to pick up her dress. He walked over to a nearby tree, and hung it over a low-hanging branch. Riza rolled her eyes as Roy walked to the edge of the pool, sitting down on a rock near the bank and dipped his feet into the water. Riza sighed.

“I think I’ll just watch for a bit,” Roy replied.

“Whatsamatter? Don’cha know how to swim?”

“Wh-what?! Of course I-I know how to swim I just… Well… The water’s…”

“The perfect temperature! It’ll feel sooo nice on the walk back.”

“A-and you look like you’re having so much fun--”

“I’d have more fun if you were in with us.”

She swore she saw his cheeks redden. “O-okay, I can’t a-actually swim.”

Riza stood up, showing that the water barely came to her waist. “I can teach ya. It’s not hard. Really. And you’ll have a lot more fun if you’re in here than if you’re sittin’ on that rock.”

She watched his face as he stared at the water. His brow was furrowed in concentration. It was the way he looked when he was planning a transmutation. Finally, he tugged off his shirt, and slid off the rock into the water. Riza smiled and splashed her way over to him.

“See? It’s not that bad, is it?”

Roy shook his head. “I… I still don’t know how to swim, Miss Hawkeye.”

“Riza. If I’m gonna call you Roy, you’re gonna call me Riza. Okay?”

“Alright, Riza.” She smiled, taking his hand and dragging him out into the water.

“So c’mon. Just… Take a deep breath and put your head under the water. Like this!” She took a deep breath and forced herself under the water for a moment. When she popped back up, she was surprised to see Roy also resurfacing, his hair dripping water. “Better?”

“A… A little,” Roy admitted. “But it’s still kinda scary, don’t you think?”

“It’s just a little water, Roy. Didn’t you take baths in Central?” She kicked away a little bit, and he was quick to follow her. She smiled and continued, smiled as his face grew more determined. When she moved faster, he increased his pace as well. It wasn’t long before they were swimming around in the water like two little fish. Roy began to laugh along with the other kids, joining in with their games.

They spent the afternoon swimming around, playing with the other kids, until the sun began to move toward the horizon. They all clambered out of the water, Riza going to pull her dress on over her still-wet bathing suit. Roy pulled his shirt back on as well, and the two of them walked back down the dirt road with the other children following their lead.

Roy and Riza stopped at the gate to Hawkeye Manor, bidding their friends goodbye. Riza slipped inside the fence, taking some of the chicken feed and scattering it on the ground, watching the birds come clucking and flapping over to her. She smiled, reaching down to ruffle their feathers.

“Thank you for coming today,” she murmured to Roy. The older boy was leaning against the fence.

“You’re very welcome. I haven’t had that much fun in ages. Sometime, you should come to Central with me, when I go to visit my Aunt. You’d love my sisters, and they’d get a real kick outta meeting you.”

“Maybe I will,” Riza replied. “Provided father approves of my visiting, of course.” Roy laughed at that. Riza laughed too. It was the beginning of a beautiful summer.

[istgimamess]

Label: yg entertainment

Stage name: Barbie

Debut year: 2014 (4yrs active)

Debut concept: sexy, dark, story driven, rap and dance heavy, hip hop/pop track!

Number of members: 1(solo artist)

Group name: you go by your stage name, Barbie!

Fandom name: bb's

Position: main dancer, vocal, rap and visual; basically everything (because you rock!)

Male bestie: Yukhei (NCT)

How you meet: you hurt eachother both physically and emotionally, and then laughed about it. Alot! It was a normal day, you had just returned from dance practice and you were kind of exhausted; so you weren't paying that much attention to your surroundings! And then, let's just say, you hit a wall. Literally! Knees buckling, foreheads banging, elbows stabbing eachother in the stomachs - you struggled to break free. "Oh my freakin- you broke my face!! My face is broken!! What the hell is your forehead made out of?!! Bricks?!" "Well, I wouldn't of had to break your face if you had just watched where you were going, you frat-boy looking douche!" There was a long pause, some intense eye contact and then you both were cracking up; red faced and both clutching your stomachs, you managed to introduce yourselves! You've been attached at the hip ever since! You both have 4D personalities and you both love to make people laugh! You're 100x more extra when you're with eachother! Like Bonnie and Clyde, Tom and Jerry - you have eachothers back but always tease eachother constantly! He quickly becomes one of your best friends! He also gets oddly really protective of you, in a funny way, and his band mates like to tease him to see his reaction! "Hmm, I think my girl crush would have to be Barbie! She's really sexy!" "...(delayed reaction) Wait, what!? (^..gif..^)..who just said that!?? I'll stab you in the eye with a fork!!.." Even though he uses humor to mask how much he dislikes other people talking about you, you know if it came down to it, he would genuinely put someone in their place for you! Your friendship is the sweetest! (*sob*.. my 4D son!)

Female bestie: Lisa (Black Pink)

How you meet: you meet through dance! You had started taking more and more dance classes and workshops after your debut and occasionally you would meet new people in those classes! Long story short, she "accidently" caught you off gaurd after practice one day and you might have turned around and kicked her in the shin in a desperate attempt to "defend" yourself. You apologized over and over again but she just wouldn't stop laughing and take your apology, "hahahahhahahahaha you call that self defense?! You looked like a rabid bunny...I'm sorry hahahhaha...I can't stop laughing...hahaha.." "HA! Hilarious. Laugh it up..." She ends up choking which makes you laugh hysterically, until both of you are just a mess of giggles. You quickly end up bonding over your love for dance and food! And it became kind of a game between you two, on who could sneak up and scare the other more: at award shows, at fan meets, at restaurants; any and everywhere you could possibly think of! You had gotten in couple of good scares, but she was still the reigning queen! Which, she always brags about! "Lisa, you're best friends with Barbie right!?" "Yeah! She's my bestie!" "I hear you like to sneak up and scare eachother! How do you usually do it?!" "Yeah! I get her everytime! Like this...(^.. gif..^).." She's such a fruitloop, but you love her!

Group bestie: NCT Dream

How you meet: it was one of the weirdest encounters you've had in your entire life, to be completely honest. One second you were picking out something to eat at the local 7-11 and then without warning you were surrounded by a pack of fetus looking thugs. "You barbie!?" "We've literally watched every single one of her music videos and all of her interviews. We know what she looks like, why would you ask such a stupid question!?" "I was just trying to act cool!" "Well that's your problem right there! You're a rapper not an actor!" "You want to fight me!?" "Oh look, Canada thinks he can throw down.." "Stop pushing his buttons, Haechan. But on a serious note, we've all seen pictures of her on Lucas' phone sooooo that definitely was a stupid question.." "I swear to go-" "Umm, sorry to interrupt but...what is happening!?" "We're your new best friends, we're here to replace Lucas. Nice to meet you!" "Ummm..I mean..okay, sure.." And just like that, your fate was sealed! (No joke, my brothers football team actually did this to me! Soooo yeah, this legit happened!) You end up not really minding though. They are super supportive, always cheering you on and hyping you up! It's kind of cute, they follow you around like little ducklings; always competing with Lucas for your attention and friendship. "Noona, Yukhei said you prefer atleast one of your bestfriends to be buff so..(^.. gif..^).." You love them!

Ship name: b-min, smiley couple

How you meet: you ran into him at an award show. Literally! You were too busy trying to watch out for Lisa! You knew she was obviously attending the award show, and you knew it was the perfect setting and opportunity for her to sneak up and scare you; so you weren't paying attention to anything! Until you were laying flat on the ground, another human being hovering over you. "Yikes, are you okay!?" "Oh my god! I'm soooo sorry!" You apologize profusely as he tries to help you stand. "It's no problem, I might be short but I'm sturdy- nope, I take that back, you're shorter.." With red cheeks and shaky hands you both stumbled awkwardly through your introductions and from then on, it was history! He ended up asking you out and you jumped at the gun to say yes; you've been together ever since. He really is a great boyfriend, always cuddling you, buying you flowers, taking you out to eat, supporting you. (I'm actually getting kind of jealous lmfao) He's whipped and his band mates tease him about it all the time! "And here we have Park Jimin not paying attention to the camera at all because he's too busy texting Barbie! What a shocker!....(^.. gif..^)..." You're total relationship goals!

Biggest fan: Wooseok (Pentagon) is probably your biggest fan! He's constantly listening to your music, watching your MV's, downloading your songs, watching your TV appearances and talking about you in interviews! "I'm a huge fan of Barbie-noona! She's really talented and she's such a good dancer! I would love to collab with her sometime in the future!" It's the cutest thing; he's such a big fan of everything you do and he's so loyal to your fandom, constantly calling himself a fellow bb! "Wooseok, quick question! Do you think there is anyone in the world that dances better than Barbie?!" "...(^..gif..^)..." It's adorable!

Scandal: it's not a secret that you're a dancing dancer who loves to dance, and it's definitely not a secret that EXO's Kim Jongin is one of the best dancers out there, in your opinion! (It's a total FACT!) So given that he's actually one of your closest friends, even an older brother at times; always willing to practice with you and give you advice! You use this to your benefit! Often! That's why dispatch has photographs of you and Jongin together on multiple nights! "New romance between Solo Artist Barbie and EXO's Kai?!" "Ken and Barbie?! More like Kai and Barbie! New hott couple alert!" You both end up laughing until you're curled up in a ball on the floor. "Really?! A Barbie and Ken joke!? That's what they're leading with?" "You're a bit too vertically challenged to be a Barbie, but honestly I'm killing it in the Ken department.." "Jongin, are you actually trying to fight me right now?!" It's really ridiculous!

Other activities: sure, you're a singer and a rapper but dancing is and always will be your number one! It's your passion, it's what you went to school for and it's what you live to do! So when yg suggests that you start trying to broaden your fan base with some type of variety show or competition like 'Hit the Stage' you freaked out! (Girllllllll, so would I!)You were so excited but also very nervous to showcase more of your dancing skills on such a big platform but it turned out to be one of the funnest experiences! You ended up feeling right at home amongst the other dancers, made some new friends, learned more about dance as a craft and even made some new fans! "It was just sooo fun! I was definitely nervous but I pulled though! I knew I had it in me!" "Ohhhh wow, so you're just not going to give me credit at all!? I mean, its not like I went through another dating scandal just to help you practice or anything, right?! How rude of you, midget." "Oh my god, Jongin, I swear I will push you down a flight of stairs..." It was awesome!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

@kbabie heyyyy sooooo yeahhh, thank you so much for your patience! I know it takes me hella long to do idol ships, because I kind of overdo it. But thank you so much for the request, I hope you like it! Please feel free to let me know what you think! 😅

[formerlyjannafaye]

100 Questions

I was tagged by @janes-mike and @el-and-hop and @caseyk112 like 100 years ago and I just finished it now! Oops.

1. What is your nickname? Janaynay, Fayzers, Jan

2. How old are you? 31

3. What is your birth month? February

4. What is your zodiac sign? Aquarius

5. What is your favorite color? Rainbow

6. What’s your lucky number? 2

7. Do you have any pets? not at the moment

8. Where are you from? Canada

9. How tall are you? 5′4

10. What shoe size are you? 8

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? this is so embarassing, I probably own like 35 pairs of shoes (but in my defense, we experience extremes in all 4 seasons during the year) and I am a shoe addict.

12. Are you random? sometimes? but not really.

13. Last person you texted? my dad

14. Are you psychic in any way? i feel like i am really good at reading people and i have a really good memory when it comes to people so maybe a little?

15. Last TV show watched? New Girl

16. Favorite movie? Hard question! ET, Get Over It, Moulin Rouge

17. Favorite show from your childhood? Mr. Dressup!

18. Do you want children? I have one! I’d like one more, I think.

19. Do you want a church wedding? I had one.

20. What is your religion? I am a Christian, which I almost hate to say because Christians are represented so badly today and I am ashamed of this group so often. To clarify, I think Jesus is the bomb and so I try to emulate how he treated people. I’m also a feminist, pro marriage equality, pro choice, pro creation care/caring for the environment, I believe in science, I don’t believe in hell, and I hate violence. So...do with all that what you will.

21. Have you ever been to the hospital? Yes, I go there a lot with my work.

22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? I literally sweat when a cop car passes me and I’m a goody two shoes, so no! Haha

23. How is life? Its alright. I am really tired today which always affects my mood negatively. And I just watched Infinity War last night so I’m depressed, y’all. (edit: can you tell I started this over a week ago LOL)

24. Baths or showers? Showers (you could not pay me to get into a bath! germs!)

25. What color socks are you wearing? none, its too warm out

26. Have you ever been famous? Once I met the guy who won Canadian Idol and my local grocery store put up a picture of us together in the store and had it up for years. Haha! 

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? I used to really want to be famous, but celebs get a horrible deal these days. They have no privacy and our world thinks they owe us everything and really they owe us nothing so I would never ever want to be famous. I like being able to look like crap daily and not have it in magazines.

28. What type of music do you like? I like a wide variety of music, the only music I don’t like, really, is misogynistic rap and country. I am a choral and accapella music nerd, I love it so much.

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? Yup.

30. How many pillows do you sleep with? Two.

31. What position do you usually sleep in? On my side with my top leg thrown over so I’m in a weird stomach/side position but its sooo comfy.

32. How big is your house? Its a good size! Big enough for us and then to host people that come to visit us and our yard is huge!

33. What do you typically have for breakfast? I suck at breakfast...toast or a granola bar.

34. Have you ever left the country? I have been to Germany, South Africa, Cuba, Costa Rica and the USA.

35. Have you ever tried archery? Many years ago at summer camp.

36. Do you like anyone? Well I’m married, so yes.

37. Favorite swear word? Shit. It is sooo satisfying to say.

38. When do you fall asleep? WAY too late every night. Between midnight and 2 am.

39. Do you have any scars? Yeah I have some from when I had the chickenpox as a kid and had no self control and scratched them off.

40. Sexual orientation? Straight.

41. Are you a good liar? I think I am a horrible liar, because I value authenticity so much and lying makes me anxious.

42. What languages would you like to learn? I would love to learn Spanish since its so beautiful. Really I just would love to not only speak English!

43. Top 10 songs? Oh my! What a question! Imma be safe and just say the top 10 songs I am listening to most often right now: Fall in Line by Christina Aguilera ft Demi Levato, Don’t Go Breaking My Heart by BSB, Lost in Japan by Shawn Mendes, Bittersweet Symphony cover by Boyce Avenue, Love You Long Time by Pentatonix, Dive by Ed Sheeran, Nancy Mulligan by Ed Sheeran, New Rules cover by Pentatonix, Casanova by Allie X, Gravity by Sara Bareilles.

44. Do you like your country? I do! I am mad at our leader rn, and appalled that Ontario elected a Donald Trump wannabe as a premier (like WHY HAVE YOU LEARNED NOTHING ONTARIO PERSONS UGH) but overall I love being Canadian.

45. Do you have friends from the web? Yes! Its the best!

46. What is your personality type? I am an ESFP, an extrovert with introvert tendancies, and I am an enneagram 4 (seriously, google it. That is me to a T).

47. Hogwarts House? Hufflepuff 4 LYFE

48. Can you curl your tongue? Yes.

49. Pick one fictional character you can relate to? I am Anne from Anne of Green Gables, just not as smart. Just as dramatic and short tempered, though.

50. Left or right handed? Right

51. Are you scared of spiders? I don’t like them or want them near me.

52. Favorite food? Chocolate. Chips and Dip. Dill pickles.

53. Favorite foreign food? I love Mexican food so much I can’t even pick one thing. Also naan bread is the BOMB especially when dipped into dal makhani. Uuuuuuugggghh I wanna eat that so bad rn.

54. Are you a clean or messy person? I am pretty clean, messiness makes me crazy.

55. If you could switch your gender for a day, what would you do? Pee standing up, see what its like to not have to deal with bathroom lines, street harassment, etc.

56. What color underwear? Grey.

57. How long does it take for you to get ready? 20 mins, but usually longer because I don’t like to be rushed so I take my time.

58. Do you have much of an ego? I don’t think so? I’m a walking pile of insecurities.

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? I used to bite them but I have TMJ and my jaw is a piece of garbage that cannot withstand biting anything hard without popping all out of place and pain. Fun times.

60. Do you talk to yourself? Yup.

61. Do you sing to yourself? CONSTANTLY.

62. Are you a good singer? I have a pretty decent voice.

63. Biggest Fears? Losing people I love, dying, clowns, bats, cockroaches

64. Are you a gossip? I like being in the know but I don’t like pettiness. That said I sometimes find I have to focus REALLY hard to bite my tongue.

65. Are you a grammar nazi? Absolutely.

66. Do you have long or short hair? Its too long! I need a haircut.

67. Can you name all 50 states of America? Maybe? I might forget a few. The real question is can any of my American friends name the Canadian provinces (the CAN equivalent of states? I DOUBT IT yet we learn the states in school. SMH)

68. Favorite school subject? English and French

69. Extrovert or Introvert? Intoverted extrovert

70. Have you ever been scuba diving? Nope and I don’t plan on it.

71. What makes you nervous? Rooms full of people that don’t like me, small spaces, driving in winter.

72. Are you scared of the dark? Less than I used to be, but I don’t like it.

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? I do daily but thats because I have a toddler and teaching/correction is important in some moments. But you also have to let them fail which is challenging to do.

74. Are you ticklish? Nope. Only my sister can tickle me and its so annoying when she does!

75. Have you ever started a rumor? Not that I can recall?

76. Have you ever been out of your home country? Yeah a few times

77. Have you ever drank underage? I don’t think so, I was 18 by the time I drank anything, I think.

78. Have you ever done drugs? No drugs scare the living crap out of me.

79. What do you fantasize about? Having more time to myself, living alone like a hermit and not having to work, having perfect hair every day, having another kid, living somewhere warm, saying snarky things to my MIL’s face.

80. How many piercings do you have? None.

81. Can you roll your R’s? Yes.

82. How fast can you type? Fast-ish if I’m on a roll but I don’t use the proper hand technique. I get by though.

83. How fast can you run? Run? Moi? HAHAHAHA

84. What color is your hair? Ash brown with a faded rainbow in the back.

85. What color are your eyes? Green.

86. What are you allergic to? Winter mold. Spring is the worst. And I can’t go barefoot on grass unless I want to have itchy swollen feet that I want to scratch off forever.

87. Do you keep a journal? I have one that I’m supposed to write a line a day in but I am the WORST at it. Once I get behind I get so unmotivated.

88. Are you depressed about anything? I feel like I’m sleep walking through my life sometimes, and depression takes away my ability to care enough to be motivated to do anything about it. I swear apathy is the worst side effect of depression for me! 

89. Do you like your age? It is honestly the best. I love being 30! I care less about the insecurities that consumed my life in my early 20s. I have more body confidence . I’m more secure financially than I’ve been at any point in my life. And I still feel youngish. Haha.

90. What makes you angry? White privilege, misogyny, Canadian and American politics, Christian people who don’t act loving and don’t seem bothered by it, when people don’t return their shopping carts in parking lots, when people can help others but don’t, cancer, narcissists.

91. Do you like your own name? I have always loved my name. I only know one other person with my name who spells it like me!

92. Did you ever get a foreign object up your nose? Odd question, no.

93. Do you want a boy or a girl for a child? I have a boy, and if I ever get the opportunity to have another kid I kinda hope its a girl. I’m really close with my mom so I always imagined having a daughter to hopefully be close with too. My son is a mini me in every way, though.

94. What talents do you have? I have a semi-photographic memory (so helpful for studying), I learn song lyrics super fast, I can sing any song for you in the correct key it was recorded in (what would you call that? pitch memorization?)

95. Sun or moon? I love sitting in a sunbeam like a cat. But the moon is super comforting to me. Both.

96. How did you get your name? My mom wanted me to have a different name in a sea of Ashley’s and Brittany’s (I was born in the late 80s).

97. Are you religious? My faith is very important to me and relates to all areas of my life, including my job, so yes? But I don’t feel like I need to be in your face about it, that’s not my style. 

98. Have you ever been to a therapist? Yes and honestly everyone on the planet could benefit from it! Its the best!

99. Color of your bedspread? White with blue and goldish flowers on it.

100. Color of your room? Light grey.

I feel like everyone already did this but all the same I’m going to tag @earlgreyteagirl, @reddie-to-mileven-it-up, @stevemossington, @maxmayfield and here’s some people who I know already did this but I want you to see my answers haha so here goes @hannahberrie @summer-in-hawkins @jane-el-hopper @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold @thezoomermax @puzzlingsnark @fatechica @mikeweezers

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #111

You know you’re from North Carolina when...

- You either have the lighthouse or the plane on your driver's license (nobody gets the seal). (don't have my license *shrug emoticon*) - You roll your eyes and correct people that pronounce it "App-a-LAY-shun" instead of "App-a-LATCH-un." - You have probably been to the Biltmore Estate (AKA America's only castle) before on a school field trip. - If there is even a CHANCE of snow school will be cancelled for a week, the grocery store will be out of milk and bread, and everyone will be afraid to drive. (THIS IS SOOO FUCKING TRUE) - You either like light blue or dark blue, not both. - Some of your family members probably make/sell real moonshine and it's WAY better than that knock-off crap they sell in gas stations now. (I know someone who does, though.) - Cook Out is life. - You have waited in line in your car for two or three hours just to see a street of Christmas lights in McAdenville (AKA Christmastown, USA). - In elementary school you heard the phrases "Duke is puke! Wake is fake! But NC State is the one we hate!" and "You can't get to heaven in a red canoe 'cause God's favorite color is CAROLINA BLUE!" thanks to your obnoxious UNC-loving classmates. - Billy Graham is a state-wide hero and you've probably been to his beautiful library. - You often wonder why Charlotte isn't the capital instead of Raleigh. - Two of God's greatest gifts were invented in North Carolina: Cheerwine and Krispy Kreme Doughnuts. (I've never had Cheerwine) - NASCAR is a big deal. (Not to me, but to literally almost everyone else, yeah.) - In school there was importance placed on the Lost Colony, Blackbeard, and tobacco. - It doesn't matter what time of year you go swimming in the mountains, the river water is always freezing. - You've been to Sliding Rock before. - "Wagon Wheel" (by Old Crow Medicine Show) is a very important song to you and you knew it way before Darius Rucker covered it. - Occasionally, you have to worry about a hurricane destroying your town. (We get hurricanes every couple years I'd say, but the bad ones usually curve back into the ocean.) - Bojangles is the best way to cure a hangover. (You haven't fuckin' lived until you go to Bojo's, but it's not gonna cure a hangover.) - We love going "all the way," AKA chili, slaw, onions, and mustard on our hotdogs. (Again, not me, but pretty much everyone else.) - You brag about all the amazing movies filmed here, including "The Last of the Mohicans," "Dirty Dancing," "The Hunger Games," "A Walk to Remember," "Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby," and "The Color Purple." - And also the popular TV shows filmed in North Carolina, including "One Tree Hill," "Homeland," "Under the Dome," "Sleepy Hollow" and "Dawson's Creek." - You rep 23 because the greatest basketball player of all time is also from here: Michael Jordan. - There are two kinds of barbecue: Eastern-style and Lexington-style, and you probably have a preference. Either way, North Carolina has the best barbecue in the country. - And barbecue is a NOUN, not a verb. - We have some of the best breweries in the country, also. - The ACC tournament is an extremely important time of the year where families and friendships will be torn apart. - Many people think North Carolina is super conservative, until they make their way to Asheville. (Uh, no. The entire state is conservative.) - There's nothing more relaxing than driving along the Blue Ridge Parkway in the fall. - You've definitely been to Carowinds and then realized it's not that great. - Every hour is happy hour to you, because North Carolina legally cannot have an official happy hour! - You can always see a lovely dogwood tree blooming in the spring. (Never, ever, do you want to smell one.) - You will fight anyone who says Ohio was first in flight. - If you need to buy furniture, there are only two places to go: Hickory or High Point. - You know the North Carolina mountains are the best and only place to get a Christmas tree. - You know the struggle of waiting to get your after 9's when you first get your driver's license. (It's the same for a permit.) - Even though we're on the coast, most people go to the beach in South Carolina. - You think the Rocky Mountains are great, but the Blue Ridge Mountains are home. - Tracking red clay into your house is normal. - You had to memorize the names of all the North Carolina lighthouses in 4th grade. - You either conquered the swinging mile-high bridge on Grandfather Mountain, or turned around halfway in fear. - There's a certain time of summer when it's too hot to even go swimming because the pool water feels like bathwater. - People from other states get confused when you say you're going to Beech and grab your skiing gear. (Lmao what.) - You know our state motto "esse quam videri" (meaning "to be, rather than to seem") is an appropriate representation of our great state. (Well that's a load of shit.) - You have strong feelings about barbeque. (Yeah, in the sense that I hate it.) - Somehow our favorite team always come down to some last-minute victory or loss. Ensue floods of tears. - On a Florida vacation at least three people have asked you where you're from. (My grandma lives in Florida.) - You LIKE tobacco, as in, the gorgeous tobacco fields and the rich heritage it has in our state. - You've partied in a field. (We were what, 13, so it wasn't exactly a "party," but we played out there, if that counts?) - It's not Christmas unless you watch the Andy Griffith Christmas Episode - It doesn't feel like fall unless you visit the State Fair. - Summer vacations meant one thing, ferry rides to the Outer Banks. (Again, to other people. OBX is huge here.) - You've bought watermelons, peaches, and vegetables off the side of the road. (I don't trust that shit.) - You have mixed feelings about Myrtle Beach. - You've attended a pig pickin'. (And they're fucking gross.) - Your accent and dialect varies depending on which part of the state you grew up in. - You've never met ANY celebrities. - You measure distance in minutes. (Literally everyone here does.) - Down South to you means South Carolina. (It can.) - You know Pepsi originated in New Bern, Cheerwine in Salisbury, and that Mountain Dew was invented in Fayetteville. (I knew they were all invented here, but not where specifically.) - You know Coke tastes better in the little bottles and that peanuts make coke taste even better. (Don't like peanuts) - Your folks have taken trips to the mountains to look at leaves. - Your school took a field trip to the State Fair in Raleigh. - You watched as Dale Earnhardt was the only man who ever lived who could go 200 mph, spin somebody out, flip them the bird, call them a you-know-what, and win the race all in the last lap. - You skipped school to go to Dale Earnhardt's memorial service. - You know a bunch of people who have hit a deer. (Like everyone lmao) - You know a few that have also hit a bear. - You remember watching the ACC Tournament on television at school. - The local newspaper covers state, national, and international headlines in one page, but sports require six pages. - Most men in town consider the first day of deer season a national holiday. - Fifty degrees Fahrenheit is "a little chilly" (To other people; that's like perfect for me.) - You have no problem spelling or pronouncing "Conetoe" or "Top Sail" (I've been to Conetoe once and it blew my mind how it was pronounced lol.  I didn't know Top Sail had a weird pronunciation...?) - Your school classes were canceled because of cold. - Your school classes were canceled because of heat. - Your idea of a traffic jam is ten cars waiting to pass a tractor on the highway. (Happens rarely.) - You know tea is served sweet unless you specifically asked for unsweetened. - You've ever had to switch from "Heat" to "A/C" in the same day. - You end your sentences with a preposition, for example, "Where's my coat at?" "What's that made out of?" (Doesn't... everyone sometimes...?) - All the festivals around the state are named after a fruit, vegetable, or tobacco. - You know the difference between a deer dog, a bear dog and a coon dog by the way they bark. - Your four seasons are almost summer, summer, still summer, and highway construction. (PRETTY FUCKING MUCH.) - You think the four major food groups are beef, pork, beer, and Jello salad with marshmallows. - Schools and churches hold barbecue fundraisers with banana pudding as the dessert. - Your folks would rather eat at Bojangles's than McDonald's. - You know what "cow tipping" is. - You say, “it don’t” instead of “it doesn’t." - You sometimes eat country ham, grits and eggs for supper. - “Onced” and “twiced” are words. - You know how much a "mess" of anything is. - You say "tater" instead of "potato" - You say "skeeter" instead of "mosquito" - You say "possum" instead of "opossum" - You say "coon" instead of "raccoon" - You know that "barbeque" means cooking pork on an open pit and a "cook out" is grilling hamburgers and hotdogs. - You know that "pop" is a sound, and "soda" is used for baking. - Everything tastes better when served in a mason jar. - You'll never hear anything more passive-aggressive than "bless your heart!" - Everyone knows someone who's in the military. - Everyone seriously loves the North Carolina Zoo. - People have to ask, "Is there alcohol in this?" - You loooove Sun Drop. - You know to NEVER go to the Crabtree Valley Mall on the weekend. (Never, ever, do it.)

[pyrokincsis-blog]

[ zoey 101 vc ] are you ready ?! greetings from ya local trashbag, aka me. the name is rach/rachel, whatever floats your boat really. i’m twenty, go by she/her pronouns and am from the go ol’ gmt+1 timezone !! imagine thinking i wasn’t beyond excited for this group? because i aM OkaY ?! usual business, under the cut you can read about my absolute trAinWReck of a child.  but i love her problematic ass so.. please come plot with us?

NINA DOBREV ?? – no that’s just DELANEY WOODLEY, the TWENTY-TWO year old CISFEMALE who is in ALPHA. SHE has the  ABILITIES of PYROKINESIS & EXPLOSION INDUCEMENT and feels EAGER about going to the outside world. the CRIMSON can be seen as AUDACIOUS & INDEPENDENT, but on a bad day they can be FIERY & RECKLESS.

TRIGGER WARING: MURDER

ya’ll shit is about to get w i l d –– so pls prep yourself for this roller-coaster you’re about to endure. 

believe it or not i’m only NOW realizing that i put ‘fiery’ as one of her negative traits .. rachel.. gurl.. 

anWYay –– the only way to start this is by saying that unlike most of the other gifted kids ( or so i’m guessing anyway ) laneycakes actually knows who her parents are and lowkey, her dad is activity involved in her life

don’t jump on me yet i swear i’m going to explain. i told ya’ll this was gonna be wiLD. 

sOoo. papa woodley is actually a scientist who was involved in the whole ordeal of hunting down the first inhumane’s and attempting to recreate whatever gene made them.. well, supernatural. 

he was always very passionate about his job, but very quickly passion turned to obsession and greed. for example, he was entirely blinded by how wrong it was that they were hunting down these inhumane people and poking and prodding and likely killing a few in the process of trying to recreate what they had. the way he seen it, he was helping a greater cause, it would be worth it in the end –– he would be a hero when they finally managed to be successful and thanatos was defeated; all those little white lies that would help him sleep at night.

sooOo. where does laney come into the picture? welp. lets just say alexander woodley is a persuasive man, and when the time came that surrogate mothers were being lined up for ivf to carry these gifted children –– he managed to push his newly-wed wife into that batch of women. 

everytime i go to type another point i realize this is getting wilder i’m sorry i’m so damn extra okAy. 

long story short, not only did it work and she became pregnant --- she was pregnant with twins. two girls, delaney, and her little sister aj (alexandria ‘alex)’ junior bc her dad is self-centered like that). the even bigger miracle? both of the twins had powers, although it didn’t divide equally, meaning aj was the one with the lesser strength than her sister. 

this was one reason alexander took quite the favoring to delaney; she was powerful, she was everything he had ever wanted to create, she was his success presented to him in the form of a little girl. as if his obsession wasn’t already ridiculous, with his own little solider, his little fighting machine by his side; it somehow managed to get worse.

as with other gifted kids, the twins trained day and night –– their father constantly on both their backs about it, which was something aj didn’t entirely enjoy. the younger twin wasn’t fond of the gift she had been given, and often shied away from using her so-called ‘gift’ as often as she could. 

don’t get me wrong.. laney loved it?? she loved how powerful and superior she felt. though all good things come to an end lmao.

fast forward a lotta years until the twins were probably like .. fourteen/fifteen, aj and delaney had been training as usual, under their father’s incentive supervision –– when suddenly he had a ‘genius’ idea. alexander decided to pin the twins against one another, to test their powers in a fight. he called it ‘training’, but it’s what others would refer to as ‘murder’.

dAS RIGHT Ya’lL. i told you delaney was the stronger twin and her pops knew this so lmaOo. she accidentally killed her?? 

this is when she kind of.. took a turn?? like she started realizing how wrong it was what people like her father and the rest of the staff were doing.

so now, she’s kind of half keeping up a facade? she still trains and acts as though all is fine and dandy with the world, as though she’s still daddy’s little solider; but the reason she’s SO eager to get to the outside is because she’s lowkey planning to escape it all? she wants to roam free and rid of the past, to move away and escape the horrors of what she and the people surrounding her have done.

thIS IS SO FUCKING BAD OKAY ??? i can’t apologize enough for how bad this intro is but i’ve been at work all day and ?? but please?? come hit me with your plots i want all the fucking drama? bonus points for angst or feels. like ?? give me people who knew/were friends with aj aka her twin??? give me people who don’t like her bc they dont’ like her dad or maybe that’s why they do like her?? people who envy her bc she knows who her parents are ?? (though i forgot to add momma woodley is long outta the picture she was like peace out when she realized the extent of the powers her kids had lmao). give me the usual exes?? fwb?? best friend?? enemies?? hatefuck?? idk?? anyTHing?? i just want a l l the drama alright.

[nanalikessurveys]

What’s your favorite accessory?: Earrings

What is the last article of clothing you bought?: I ordered bunch of underwear online

What does that article of clothing look like?: Different kind of briefs and hipsters

Which is better: candy necklaces or Ring Pops?: I have no idea what Ring Pops are but candy necklaces are disgusting lol, like especially when kids wear them on their necks and the necklace is all slimy and chewed

What’s your favorite kind of soda?: Pepsi, especially lime pepsi

What program do you use to play your mp3s on?: Spotify and Youtube

If you’ve taken the SATs (or PSATs/ACTs/etc), what was your score?: Not a thing here

How much wood can a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?: Who knows

Do you honestly care how much the woodchuck could chuck?: Lol no

What time do you wake up every morning?: It varies between 9am and 11am

What was the last movie you rented or bought?: Well the last movie i watched was Unbreakable and i watched it on Viaplay

Do you play Dance Dance Revolution?: I've never played that

If so, what’s your favorite song to play?: -

What do you think of the Kool-Aid man?: Don’t know who he is

Do you like Dane Cook (he’s a comedian)?: I think i’ve heard of him but that’s it

Have you had a song in your head today? What is it?: Well I’m listening to Répondez-moi by Gjon’s Tears right now

Have you ever humped someone to greet them in school?: No lol

Who would you rather have sex with: Prince or Billy Idol?: Umm

What was the last concert you went to?: A local one years ago

What is the next concert you are going to?: I’m not going, i’m not really into concerts anyway

What is your favorite board game?: I think i played Monopoly the most. i don’t play anymore since i don’t have anyone to play with haha

Do you think Jade Puget is really awesome?: Don’t know who that is

What’s your favorite punctuation mark?: ? or !

What foreign language do you take in school?: Just English and Swedish when i was in school

Have you ever read any of the Chronicles of Narnia series?: I haven’t

Do you hate Harry Potter as much as I do?: I’ve never read/watched those sooo

How many times have you seen the movies in the Star Wars series?: Zero

What is your favorite anime?: I don’t watch anime

Do you own a lava lamp? Blacklite? Fiber optic lamp?: No to all of these

Do you write it as “favorite” or “favourite”?: Favorite

How many bracelets do you own?: I’m not sure, probably zero haha

How many bracelets are you wearing?: Zero

What’s your favorite flavor of Pocky?: I’ve only had the strawberry one so i have nothing to compare to

What’s your favorite way to wear your hair?: Down or up in a ponytail

What brand of gum do you most often chew?: I don’t chew gum

Do you believe in the Zodiac somewhat?: Not really

What’s your Zodiac sign?: Libra

What’s your Chinese astrology sign?: Tiger

If you were to attend an art school, what subject would you major in?: I have no idea

How old is your PC?: It’s pretty new, i bought it two months ago i think?

Do you have any 16-bit video game systems in your house? (ie Sega Genesis): No

When was the last time you got some film developed?: Looooong time ago

What was on that roll of film?: I can’t remember

If you were to get a tattoo tomorrow, what would it be of?: I don’t know if i want any. probably something to do with cats tho lol

When you turn 18 (or already have), what did/will you do on your birthday?: I didn’t really celebrate it any different way. i think i went out to eat with my mom and sister and stuff like that

Can you use a hula hoop?: Yes but it’s pretty boring imo

What is the longest distance you’ve ever walked?: I’m not sure

Do you wear eyeliner?: Lately i haven’t, but about a year ago i wore it everytime i did my makeup

Has anything been bothering you physically lately?: My arm muscles

How about mentally?: Something like that

Do you already have an idea of what you wanna do for college?: I'm sure i’m not going to college

What’s your favorite kind of fruity candy?: I don’t like them

How long do you think you could do jumping jacks non-stop?: Hmm not sure

What do you usually use your tokens on at the arcade?: ..to play the games?

What’s your favorite kind of fruit?: Peach and pear

What’s your favorite kind of Coca-Cola or Pepsi (Vanilla, lemon, lime, etc.)?: Lime Pepsi and vanilla Coke

What do you think of eyeball jewelry?: The what jewelry?

What kind of deodorant do you use?: Palmolive roll-on or Fila spray deodorant

Have you ever had a lemonade stand?: No, are those really a thing?

What’s your favorite font?: I don’t have one

What size and color do you use with it?: It depends really

What’s better: glitter or rhinestones? Glitter

If you were given a $50 gift card to an art store, what would you buy?: I have no idea

Do you like taking pictures of yourself?: Nah

Are you fairly photogenic?: No i’m not

What was your first job?: I’ve never had a job

If you could have wings, what kind would they be (bird, insect, bat…)?: Eagle wings or something like that

What do you order at your favorite fast food place?: Usually a chicken burger

What kind of sauce do you get with chicken nuggets?: Some kind of mayo

Do you like making sandcastles at the beach?: I guess so

If you had a tricycle/big wheel when you were a kid, what did it look like?: I didn’t have it

Did you have streamers in the handlebars of your bike?: No

Would you put streamers on your bike now?: I don’t have a bike but if i did i wouldn’t put streamers on it anyway

What is your favorite McDonald’s toy you’ve ever had?: I don’t remember, i didn’t really care about the toys there, just the food lol

What was your favorite toy that you broke when you were a kid?: Hmm

How do you like your hamburger?: Crispy chicken burger with mayo or a hamburger with cheese, red onion, lettuce and mayo

What’s your favorite kind of juice?: Some tropical one

What is your favorite belt you own?: I don’t own any

What is the most obscure thing you’ve found at a thrift store?: Used and badly washed underwear lol

What’s the weirdest thing you’ve seen while taking a walk?: I have no idea

How often do you go for a walk?: About once a week

What does your discman look like?: I don’t have one but me and my sister used to, it was a silver one

What is your favorite kind of Pop Tarts?: I’ve never had those

When was the last time you colored in a coloring book?: Ehh i can’t remember

If you were able to sell your soul to someone, how much would you charge?: I wouldn’t

What would you buy with the money?: -

What instrument’s sound makes you smile?: I don’t think any instruments make me smile, but i like the sound of piano and violin

Do you like to be tickled?: Noooo

Does tickling turn you on?: No, didn’t know that was a thing. is that a thing?

What brand of condoms do you usually use?: I don’t know, different ones

What was the last CD you bought that you really liked?: I think the last CD i bought was Kanye West’s Late Registration and that was ages ago lol

When was the last time you had a papercut?: Last week

Who’s one person you absolutely hate and why?: I don’t hate anyone

What makes you think a person is absolutely obnoxious?: Just be rude and too loud and boom you’re obnoxious

What was your favorite Pokemon?: Eevee

Did you watch the Power Rangers when you were little?: No.

What’s better: Ben and Jerry’s or Dairy Queen?: Never had Dairy Queen and Ben and Jerry’s is okay i guess

If you could go over to someone’s house right now, who’s and why?: I don’t need to do that now

Are you good at playing ping-pong?: I’m not, any game to do with balls is something i’m not good at

Do you like to chew on things?: On food yes?

What’s a nervous habit of yours?: I tap everything with my fingers and hands and tend to talk all the time if i’m with someone i know

Do you like to paint your nails?: Sometimes

Would you be able to fit in a kiddie pool?: I'm sure, but i wouldn’t be able to swim in it lol

What makes you giggle with glee?: A lot of things, i laugh a lot

When you read the comics in the paper, what do you go for first?: I don’t read the comics in the paper

[womenofcolor15]

WAP ON TOP: Cardi B Gifts Meg Thee Stallion A Custom Birkin To Celebrate ‘WAP’ Making Historic Debut On Billboard, Platinum Eligible!

Men were hating HARD on Cardi B & Megan Thee Stallion’s “WAP” track! Now, they’re sitting at the top of the Billboard charts. Ha! To celebrated, Cardi gifted Meg a custom Birkin. Deets on Cardi & Meg’s new historic hit inside…

Oh, “WAP” made you mad? Well, STAY MADT!

Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion just made Billboard music chart history with their new single “WAP.” And they also stirred up controversy on social media.

Listen, when the song was released it instantly sparked all types of controversy, mostly men and the women who internalize misogony, complaining how the song is a “bad example” for young women. Some fans argued the track was too exploitative and derogatory, while others felt the track represented female empowerment and sexual liberation. If there is no issue with male rappers and singers constantly pushing lyrics about what they want to do to women's gentalia and how much cash they drop to get it, the rules should remain the same when a woman speaks on what she wants to do with her own sexuality and how much folks spend on it. A woman's sexuality doesn't only exist for men to manage and dictate what is "proper" about it, esecially when they're saying far more explicit lyrics about their own (often lackluster) penises.

Hate it or love it – “WAP” is on TOP!

”WAP” debuted at No. 1 on the Hot 100 on Monday, August 17th. Bardi was awaken to the good news:

        View this post on Instagram

                  Number fuckin one !!!!!NUMBER 1 !!!My 4th number 1 on @billboard hot 100....I’m just so thankful I want to hug the LORD !! Thank you soo much @theestallion .I don’t even know how to thank you ,I wish I can give you a big ass hug !!! Thank you to my fans Megan fans,Thank you the world for listening .Im just soooo thankful I can’t even type it .Imma get like a bad bitch and tell ya later.Love ya WAAAAAAAPP

A post shared by Cardi B (@iamcardib) on Aug 17, 2020 at 9:43am PDT

  .@iamcardib's "WAP," featuring @theestallion, officially debuts at No. 1 on this week's #Hot100 chart.

It earns Cardi B her fourth No. 1 hit and Megan Thee Stallion her second.

— billboard charts (@billboardcharts) August 17, 2020

The raunchy summer anthem marks Cardi’s fourth No. 1 hit and Meg’s second. The visuals featured cameos from "Love & Hip Hop: Miami" star/rapper Sukihana, singer Normani, rappers Mulatto & Rubi Rose, and Kylie Jenner.

# 1 #WAP pic.twitter.com/9UBxerpRJ9

— HOT GIRL MEG (@theestallion) August 17, 2020

”WAP" debuted with 93 million U.S. streams, the most EVER for a song in its opening week. Woot! The track also debuted with 125,000 downloads sold, the biggest sales week for a song since Taylor Swift & Brendon Urie’s "Me!" last year. The track also earned the second-biggest streaming week among songs by women overall, according to Billboard.

Oh, and they broke HELLA records:

        View this post on Instagram

                  Breaking pop records! HIP HOP DID THAT !! I’m sooo fuckin happy .Im so proud of us !Yooo God is sooooo big .I did NOT see this coming I wasn’t even expecting all this yooo.Wap Wap Wap!!!!! Thank you @theestallion !!!GETTING DRUNKYYY EARLY !!!!

A post shared by Cardi B (@iamcardib) on Aug 17, 2020 at 10:49am PDT

The hit track is on its way to platinum status: 

          View this post on Instagram

                  Platinum plaque next #WAP

A post shared by Hot Girl Meg (@theestallion) on Aug 16, 2020 at 10:22am PDT

  To celebrate, Bardi copped Meg a custom Birkin bag that featured Meg's likeness and scenes from the "WAP" video. Check it:

        View this post on Instagram

                  My manager just walked in and said cardi sent you something not the birkinnnnnnnn thank you frennn omg I can’t believe you I wonder what I’m gonna get her @iamcardib

A post shared by Hot Girl Meg (@theestallion) on Aug 17, 2020 at 6:07pm PDT

Meg is racking up her Birkins. The "Savage" raptress shared she just copped herself a yellow Birkin recently:

  Aye!

Congrats to Meg & Cardi! Whether you actually like the track or not, we're here for the female empowerment vibes exchanged between the female rap artists in the game! 

Things are looking good for Meg following her incident with singer Tory Lanez. It's alleged the singer shot Meg in BOTH of her feet. She confirmed she was shot in both feet and had to have surgery. However, she hasn't confirmed who actually shot her. She got emotional while talking about it during an IG Live with her fans that you can check out HERE.

Sunday night...

        View this post on Instagram

                  Now make it rain if you wanna see some WAP

A post shared by Hot Girl Meg (@theestallion) on Aug 17, 2020 at 12:26pm PDT

  The Houston Hottie hit the streets of Atlanta to party it up! The 25-year-old entertainer hit up a local strip club to turn up

Megan Thee Stallion LIVING LIFE in the strip club in Atlanta after WAP goes #1 on Billboard w/ Cardi B pic.twitter.com/iiKr4fQNsV

— 2Cool2Blog (@2Cool2BIog) August 18, 2020

No masks. No social distancing. You KNOW folks were going to come for her:

why is megan thee stallion in a strip club partying during a GLOBAL PANDEMIC and non of yall are saying shit....yall would’ve canceled anybody else stop turning a blind eye on your fave pic.twitter.com/FKomxoAxMg

— suki (@lizzygismydaddy) August 17, 2020

Now, Meg....

To be fair, Atlanta seems to be in its own bubble of denial.  Everything seems to be open and everything appears back to normal while Covid infection numbers remain high...

Photo: Cardi's IG/Meg's IG

[Read More ...] source http://theybf.com/2020/08/18/wap-on-top-cardi-b-gifts-meg-thee-stallion-a-custom-birkin-to-celebrate-%E2%80%98wap%E2%80%99-hitting-no-