#i like to think she was a tiny bean in hs but then had the growth spurt of all time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bruh-haikyuu · 4 years ago

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@arcangel-wings REQUESTED: Heya! I’m new to your blog and I really like your writing! Can I request Tenma Udai with an s/o who’s a baker while he’s in hs? So like he’s a delinquent and she’s a sweetheart who’s always giving people the stuff she bakes? Everyone thinks it’s weird but they fit together kinda thing 🥺?

A/N: Thanks for requesting!! This is über cute. Fem!Reader as alluded in the request^^

kilig. | udai tenma

word count: 2155

warnings: manga spoilers!!

(n.) the rush or the inexplicable joy one feels after seeing or experiencing something romantic

“Chocolate is the ingredient for love~!” you say after pouring what seems to be an entire bucketful of chocolate chips into your bowl.

Your friend Saeko has seen just about enough of your nonsensical chatter about baking, your boyfriend and your abundant love for both. Already exhausted from a recent scolding by the vice-principal, she decides that it’s better off to smile and nod rather than try to come up with a snarky remark for your innocent mania.

“T-That’s a lot of chocolate,” she blurts out. When she picks up her spatula from the bowl, the girl grumbles at the sight of a liquidy trail drizzling down the utensil. “Ahh geez, it’s not supposed to be like this, isn’t it? Katagiri-sensei’s going to fail me again...”

You smile and hand her a bowl of flour. “Don’t worry, Saeko-chan. Just add a bit more flour and you’re good to go! You can never go wrong with cookies.”

The halo above your head is nearly visible. Saeko swears she can even hear angels singing to her in the background as you mix away on your fragrant bowl of dough. You don’t even seem real—from your angelic grin down to your overwhelmingly flowery aura. It’s tough enough to imagine that you’d ever talk to her of all people, but to imagine you’d go for a guy who’s just as much of a thug...

Unthinkable! Saeko shakes her head. She’d thought you’d pulled a joke on her the first time you announced that you were dating... him. Udai Tenma, star of the Boys’ Volleyball Club, a red-hot beacon of undomesticated temper.

She’d always known you liked him—though which part of him you liked is somewhat still a mystery to her—and as much as Saeko wanted to protect you from those ruffians, that absolutely infatuated look in your eyes was too much to bear. And eventually, she succumbed to your incessant ambitions of high school romance.

“You’re a saint, dude,” she sighs longingly. “I don’t get how you’re still dating that guy. I’m not really one to say anything about this, but don’t you think Udai’s kind of a jerk with the way he treats you?”

You chuckle, like a sweet grandmother about to tell a nostalgic tale to her grandchildren.

“I suppose you can say that Tenma-kun is a bit shy. He likes to act tough and mighty when he’s around people, but he’s actually just a normal boyfriend with a very sweet tooth and a penchant for manga.”

Saeko scowls. “Normal’s normal, but you have to at least let him know that you have your limits too. I really can’t stand leaving the two of you alone, w-what if Udai breaks your heart, or worse—”

“Tanaka-san. If you have time for chatter back there, then surely, you’re finished with your cookies?” at the sound of the grouchy Home Economics teacher at the front of the class, Saeko quickly returns to her bowl in a sorry attempt to look busy.

Deciding to humor her interest, you lean towards her and whisper lowly. “I’ll be fine, Saeko-chan. He may not look like it, but Tenma-kun’s actually very cute.”

In her mind, it’s much easier to simply handcuff herself to you so that you’re under her watch at all times possible. But your gaze is nothing short of genuine—you really love this guy, and the fact that you’re still with him, assures Saeko even just a tiny bit that he might not be so bad after all... with you at least.

You’re already storming away in your little world of baking. It amuses your best friend whenever you’re off making your personal masterpieces (“‘Masterpiece’ is absolutely right!” she’d say while stuffing her mouth full of your mini tarts). Each and every one of your creations are whipped up with the utmost amount of love and care, and for just the right reasons, everyone’s been pestering you to set up a bakery after high school. Your regular patrons just happen to be the Karasuno Boys’ Volleyball Club—with the addition of the lively Coach Ukai who is rather fond of how much filling you put into your red bean buns.

As regular as regular can be, you’ve found yourself visiting the Volleyball Club clubroom after school every Wednesday to hand out your treats to not only your aloof boyfriend, but also to his friends, his coach and the prostrated manager who direfully needs a pick-me-up. And suddenly, you’re ‘Karasuno’s Cookie Goddess’.

“Ah, you’re making another batch, Y/N?” Saeko perks up when you split your dough in half.

“Yep!” you giggle, essentially a high school student drowning in love. “I want to make something special for Tenma-kun today.”

“... What’s the occasion? Is it his birthday or something?”

You shrug, face absolutely alight. “Nope, I just want to give him a surprise~”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Tenma isn’t exactly unapproachable. It’s just that people tend to avoid him at all costs. Perhaps you were just bold... or remarkably stupid, but if you hadn’t addressed him that day, life would’ve probably been drabber.

Your parents and your friends (with emphasis towards your overprotective Saeko-chan) had shown their unfiltered concern when the news of your relationship circulated like wildfire. What was the analogy they used, again?

“You’re like a rabid bridge troll and a rabbit! It doesn’t work!” You could only laugh at their valiant efforts of a correlation... if they were really trying to make one. But after a few more reassuring pushes and awkward family dinners, they’ve come to be more lenient about your little ‘liaison’.

But you never feel like you have to worry when Tenma is around. In fact, when Tenma is around, you feel calm—even when he’s spouting off curses to a taller rival.

There’s a warmth unlike any other when he holds or kisses you. And though you’d have to drive him through hell and waters to say it out loud, you already know that every action he does for you is out of love. Words are material, it’s the action that counts, right?

“Sorry for the intrusion~!” you call out into the open doors of the Boys’ Volleyball Club’s space.

A flash of obnoxious yellow hair flashes before your eyes and suddenly, an imposingly tall figure appears in front of you out of nowhere. “Cookie Goddess!”

“Good afternoon, Yukimura-kun,” you smile. “Is there only you right now?”

“I’m here too, Y/N-chan,” the lax-faced captain Tokito emerges from the room in the midst of zipping up his jacket. His eyes flicker towards the packages in your hands and a smile cracks on his face. “Ooh, chocolate chip cookies today~”

You quickly raise the fragrant bags of treats into their view, bringing in the remaining swamp of boys from the clubroom. Suddenly, the common hallway is blocked by an influx of starving teenagers who are rampaging on about your existence.

“So good...” Yukimura murmurs dreamily, mouth full of chocolate. “Man, anyone would be lucky to have you as their wife if you were to cook them these everyday.”

A brazen first-year with frosted tips elbow him and sighs. “Too bad you’re taken, huh, Y/N-chan-senpai? If it were me instead of him, I’d always make it a point that ‘Heeey... guess what my girlfriend made for me today~ Isn’t she the best—”

“Oi, brat. Whose girlfriend do you think you’re talking about?”

The gangle of boys freeze up simultaneously at the grouchy voice behind you (aside from Tokito, who’s yawning at the whole ordeal). Whipping around to the dark aura boring holes into your back, you immediately light up at Tenma’s presence.

“Tenma-kun~!” you launch at him with your arms wide open. You’re ready for some sort of swerve from him, so you make sure you protect his bag of cookies with your arm... You’ve learned this counter-attack the hard way, of course.

But what you don’t expect is that your boyfriend makes no move to avoid you at all.

“H-hey! Don’t just lunge at me like that, you idiot! What if you fell down and knocked your head open?” Ah, at least the embarrassed comment is there.

You can only smile at him kindly. From the edge of your eyes, you swear that you can see a light blush dusting his face as your boyfriend gains newfound interest in your shoes.

“Come with me for a while,” he finally grumbles, effectively breaking the silence between the both of you. Grabbing your hand, Tenma leads you down the little aluminium staircase, eliciting small grates from the steps below you and a mass of curious whispers from the group you’d just left behind.

“Hey, Udai-kun~” Tokito calls out, a lilt of roguery in his tone, “Make sure to get back in time for practice, okay? And keep Y/N-chan in one piece, won’t you? We can’t get another Cookie Goddess if you don’t.”

When he turns into a secluded corner away from the prying eyes of his teammates, you can hear him audibly huff and mutter something under his breath. As silence lingers between you, you nearly forget about the reason why you came to visit.

“I made some cookies for you, Tenma-kun,” you say to him, urging the neatly wrapped bundle into his hands. “I hope you like it.”

You can clearly see the hesitation in his eyes when he takes it in his hands. You can probably guess why.

(“Y/N, your skills with a knife are scary, dude,” Saeko grimaced as she watched you trail over the dough with the gleaming blade of your paring knife.

“Aaand... done!” you proudly wiped the sweat off your forehead. It would’ve been more helpful with a cookie cutter around, but you figured that it would’ve been more heartfelt otherwise.

‘Heartfelt’, you pondered on the word for a moment. Would this be too heartfelt for such a rag-tag person like Tenma? It would probably be better to go for something simpler, just like the other days...

Nah. You shook your head as you chucked the tray of heart-shaped cookies into the oven.)

You’re hoping for a shocked response from him, but Tenma only grumbles meekly. You brace yourself for another scolding for acting too chummy with him, or being too affectionate, or—

“You shouldn’t get too close with other guys.”

Wait.

Tenma crosses his arms, the curls of his hair falling gently over his forehead. His pink cheeks darken into a soft maroon. “If they found out you’re giving me this sort of special treatment, they’ll be all over you the next day, asking for it too... I don’t like it.”

The laugh that rises in your throat threatens to burst. What is this, you think. Your stomach hurt from the mere image of this innocent “delinquent” professing his jealousy for you. If he was like this all the time, wouldn’t that be an interesting change... Aah, your boyfriend really is cute, isn’t he?

A giggle escapes you and you watch him jolt in chagrin. “Tenma-kun, you’re so red.”

“I’m not!” he yells rather briskly, then shoots back at you. “You can’t say I’m red when you were all burning up as you were giving me these heart-shaped cookies.”

Touché. “I’m glad you like them, Tenma-kun.”

His gaze visibly softens up as you give him an angelic smile. “Uh, yeah. Thanks.”

At times like this, you really do see the boy who’d shyly confessed to you under the shade of the summer ginko tree. It wasn’t anything of a distant memory, it was just that Tenma’s usual demeanour and your unrelenting tolerance hindered the both of you from being completely outward with one another. Maybe something like this isn’t so bad after all.

“I-I have to go back to practice. You can go home by yourself, right?” your boyfriend clears his throat, urging you to leave.

Though you wished the moment would last a little longer, you know there are other countless shared opportunities with him. “Mm-hm! You do your best in practice, okay?”

He ruffles your hair and chuckles endearingly.

“Atta girl. Now go home before Tokito catches me getting all touchy-feely with you.”

Bidding him goodbye, you sullenly trudge away from your boyfriend (and his friends waving back at you from the balcony). Then the idea strikes you.

Special cookies ought to have a special flair to them, no?

Cupping your hands around your mouth like a megaphone, you shout, loud enough for his teammates to hear. “I love you, Tenma-kun~!”

And the crowd goes wild.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

From: Tenma-kun ♡

Subject: Untitled

(15:58) Now Tokito’s all over me thanks to you, making me do extra diving drills. You better make more of those cookies as compensation, idiot. Be prepared for it.

(15:58) Btw, don’t forget to look both ways when you cross the street on the way home. If you get into an accident, you won’t be able to apologize to me properly.

(15:58) ... Hey.

(16:00) I love you too.

#bruh haikyuu writing #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyu #udai tenma #udai tenma x reader #haikyuu fluff #udai tenma imagine #udai tenma scenario #karasuno x reader #udai x reader #little giant x reader #sfw

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tetrakys · 5 years ago

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MCLUL 18

The episode starts where the previous one had left: either in Nath’s flat if you decided to follow Amber, or in Castiel’s if you didn’t. Either way, Candy goes to Nath’s place after Amber calls her and the same dialogue unfolds. Nath explains that he has been back in town for weeks because Erik, his cop friend, tracked him down as soon as he’d left and they are now working together to collect enough evidence to dismantle the cartel for good. He’s playing the bait (hence the traffic light-looking attire) and wearing a wire under his clothes. He leaves soon after saying that he will be back once he’s done with this dangerous mission.

The rest of the episode is mostly about university work, the last we will ever see. First, Candy practices her presentation with Rosa, Morgan and Alexy. We assist a fight between the two lovebirds that soon morphs into a sweet declaration of love. Later, Candy keeps practicing alone first and later with Yeleen (if you chose it).

We also attend Rayan’s final class. The first part is about the group work, each group reports their experience. I thought this whole group work sub-plot was going to lead to something, either a mini-arc for Chani, where she learns to be less of a perfectionist and shows her art to the world, or some kind of drama with Melody, or at least something important for the degree. It was all very tepid, almost as if the writers had changed their mind and dropped it from the plot. The second part of the class is, instead, about relaxation techniques in the park. Because it makes total sense in a modern art history course.

After all this, Candy goes to the café to tell Clemence she is going to quit soon. Clemence tells her to not rush into this decision because there’s no job for history of arts majors and she may end up having to keep working as a waitress (charming as usual, but also strangely nice?). Also, an improbable friendship is born when Clemence shows lots of interest in Chani’s magical aptitude.

That evening Nina sends a text saying she’s witnessed the cops arresting her assailant, and Candy and Priya have a discussion about Nath and what that could mean for him.

The day of the thesis discussion Candy is very stressed, but she finds Castiel outside the class and he helps giving her relaxation technique tips. She also gets a little spooked finding Rayan in the class (I don’t see why? Seems pretty normal to me). Anyway, time-skip to the end of the exam and Candy is pretty satisfied with herself. She even buys Chani a crystal as a thank you for her support and encouragement for her own exam.

In the evening Candy attends a party Hyun has thrown to celebrate the end of the academic year. She had also invited her parents and the illustration shows the moment she introduces the LI to them. Everyone except Nath. Having sneaked into the café’s kitchen, his illustration portrays the moment he tells Candy he’s finally free from the Cartel.

The episode ends in the middle of the party.

THE END

Now let’s go into more detail on everyone’s route:

Here, I’m saying it... Nath is always 100% bangable. Even like this, once the problematic leggings and the blinding yellow t-shirt are off, there’s really nothing to talk about.

I found the resolution of Nath’s route very anticlimactic, happening off screen. If Candy got somehow involved however, it would’ve probably been quite trashy and ridiculous so there was really no win in this crazy scenario. It just feels they dragged too long, only to create angst, something that they resolved with just a few words and no involvement on our part. If MCL is indeed ending in a couple of episodes, this was basically the main recurring plot-line of the whole season and it fell short, at least for me.

Him acting as a bait... let’s say it was fine, he showed some courage. But there are two things that didn’t make sense for me (in this episode): firstly, his explanation to why the cartel didn’t simply kill him, because they thought it was easier to pull off a mugging than a murder, especially if the victim was a snitch. REALLY? What does it even mean. These people were really kind drug lords: first hiring a young boy out of nowhere, then beating him up when they found out he had betrayed them instead of killing him, even giving him three days to say goodbye and skip town, and later exposing themselves enough letting him stay in town for weeks instead of killing him on the spot. Also, second thing, shouldn’t he have cut a deal with the police for his immunity BEFORE he helped them? They would’ve given him pretty much anything to shut down a whole drug cartel. I don’t know Nath, you should be so smart, at least get a lawyer next time.

A round of applause to Candy for spilling the beans with everyone about Nath’s dangerous and super-secret plan 👏👏👏

The reunion with Nath, if you are on his route, is cute and pretty emotional. She falls on the floor, overwhelmed, and he kisses her and reassures her. All this in front of Amber. The scene in the kitchen at the end of the episode, however, was a little less emotional than I would’ve liked. Especially the illustration, there was NO NEED to include Amber in it.

I did appreciate the choice to not introduce him immediately to the parents, it really wasn't the right time.

Bae is particularly charming when he laughs and smile. Both a hottie and a cutie, he’s the whole package.

I think BV tried to apologise for the lack of Castiel’s content in the previous episode, because this time we had plenty, well... more than with had the others.

After the scene in Nath’s flat, he takes us to the dorms on every route, but if you are on his route you can choose to spend the night at his place. To find an excuse so they wouldn’t hook up, BV wrote that Candy feels dizzy and they just cuddle. She’s not dizzy on any other route, just tired. And now that I’m writing these words I’m having an AWFUL SUSPICION THAT I DON’T EVEN WANT TO WORD EXPLICITLY, please no... just no.

His relaxation technique was funny, pretending to be super confident, but if you’re his girlfriend he gives Candy a breathtaking kiss right before the final exam that ensures victory for both of them.

His meeting with the parents is super chill, my Candy and him were together in HS, so they remembered him and love him already, not sure if anything changes otherwise but I guess not. Philips goofs in front of him, dancing horribly joking that he should be on his next music video and they all laugh (except maybe Candy, but it’s a happy moment nonetheless).

Crack and Rum, Castiel’s band name according to mom 😂

Now, I left the bad part for last:

Yeleen touches Castiel’s arm while talking to him in front of the café on any route. Even if he’s not our boyfriend I wanted to clock her. B*tch there is a strict NO TOUCHING policy here. But when he’s our boyfriend I timidly told Castiel that the parents were coming AND I LOST 10 FREAKING POINTS!!! What. The. Hell. Should I fight with him too? I feel like I should. This requires a heated conversation!

The green dress is super hot, and Candy is a total snack, but she’s just one small accident away to show her nipples to the world. (Surfboard my ass, Castiel)

As usual there’s very little to say about Hyun’s route. He’s excited to meet the parents and doesn’t realise they were already there, so he keeps blubbering Candy about their summer trip and kisses Candy in front of them. When he figures out he gets bashful, but they all laugh it off.

Honorable mention to Philip for not knowing where Slovenia is. SERIOUSLY??

Look at this fierce power couple, it looks like they’re about to conquer the world or rob a bank. Probably both.

Was it the right moment to spill the beans about their relationship in the middle of a college party. No. But did I enjoy their power walk, hand in hand, in the middle of the crowd? YES.

The parents’ reaction could’ve been worse. Philip could’ve gone ballistic. We didn’t see the “man-to-man chat”, probably because it was a tricky one to write, it could’ve sounded either ridiculous or trashy. Kudos to BV for taking the coward way out and skipping the problem altogether.

Rayan said that he loved her and it was sweet. However, Candy talking about how much she's into him in front of Sweet Amoris knowing that that is my Lys account felt like being sucker punched.

Also, Rayan got a tenure track position. I. Hate. Him. (I’m not envious, not at all)

Priya tearing up when Candy tells her that she wants to be with her completely is probably THE MOST FREAKING CUTE THING I’VE EVER SEEN. Cuter than cat videos. (But less cute than duckling videos. There’s nothing cuter than a baby duck).

The parents are happy to meet Priya, zero drama in Candy’s coming out, I found it refreshing, I don’t think I would’ve enjoyed a bad reaction (even a short one). They even all dance together until late night. The illustration shows Priya accepting Philip’s challenge at a sort of dance-off.

A few final comments:

I didn’t understand aunty’s comments about a masked party at the end of the school year, is that a French thing?

Philip not knowing where Slovenia is, and Hyun having to explain that it’s an European country, makes me think that they’re trying to convince us the game is not set in France. Mph.

I also wonder where Hyun’s parents live exactly. It can’t be Korea since Hyun goes back home all the time, even just for a weekend.

Everything points out to the end of the story being about a new separation, everyone moving away to achieve their own future.

Alexy is probably going to follow Morgan to Washington.

Rosa is moving to the beach house (which is not very far, but not exactly in town either).

Yeleen is excited to live in London. (The girl is going to get a HUGE wake-up call the moment she realises that apartments here are tinier than her dorm room, quite bad and life is so expensive that (if she doesn’t want to accept money from her mother) with a tourist guide salary she’s probably going to afford only a tiny room, in the middle of nowhere, in a flat shared with 10 other people).

Castiel is going on tour.

Hyun will probably want to move closer to his family after the trip.

Nath may or may not go to jail.

Priya wants to go back to India to fight social injustice.

Rayan is the only one staying in town for sure.

I GUESS, after some angst about a possible separation and break-up, the series is going to end with Candy making a life choice that brings her closer to her crush.

Anyway, the end is coming and I’m sad.

#my candy love #mcl #mclul 18 #amour sucré #amor doce #mcl review

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cherryaire · 8 years ago

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Have some more HS AU that got way longer than intended. Basically a page right out of my life.

Dan knew that it was a bad idea for him to even attempt to play kickball. In his infinite wisdom, he had decided to actually try kicking instead of letting everyone cut him in line, and now he's paying for it. Coach Phelan is crouched next to him on the ground where he's sitting, clutching his left ankle. He's trying really hard to not cry but it's growing more and more difficult by the second. He had torqued the fuck out of it when he went down.

"Do you think you can walk?" Coach Phelan asks, lightly prodding his ankle with cool fingers. He shakes his head no, and his wild curls whap him in the face. The coach turns to scan the gymnasium, and her eyes fall upon Arin Hanson, who is standing as far away from the action as possible without leaving the room. "Hanson!" she shouts, and Arin jumps, startled. He hurries over, confused.

"Yeah, Coach?"

"I need you to carry Dan to the nurse's office," she says, and both boys say "what?" at the exact same time. Phelan looks amused. "He's sprained his ankle and he can't walk, and you're strong enough to carry him."

"I'm pretty sure a light breeze could carry him," Arin points out, and Dan fixes Arin with a cold stare.

"That may be," Phelan says, and Dan interjects with a quiet "hey!", but they both ignore him. "Get a move on, boys." Arin looks down at Dan, who is still clutching his ankle. Even with his face twisted in a grimace of pain, he's fucking attractive. He's talked to Dan several times since they had AP English together, but they aren't much more than acquaintances. In all honesty, Arin spent more time staring at Dan than paying attention in English.

"C'mon, string bean, lift your arms," Arin says, crouching down. Dan huffs grumpily, but raises his arms. Arin picks him up bridal style and Dan hooks his arms around Arin's neck. Fuck, this is awkward. Arin walks slowly so as to not jostle Dan's ankle too much.

"I'll have you know I weigh a hundred and thirty pounds," Dan quips, looking ahead so that he doesn't have to deal with how close he is to Arin's face. He can smell the cinnamon gum he's chewing.

"A hundred and thirty ounces, maybe," Arin teases.

"Don't make me kick your ass," Dan threatens, though they both know he's not serious. He yelps when Arin shifts him. "Some fucking warning would be nice!"

"Oh, by the way, I readjusted you." Dan finally turns his head to look at Arin. He's close enough to see the different shades of brown in the other boy's eyes. His face begins to heat with a blush and he really hopes it isn't too obvious.

"You're an asshole, you know that?" Arin grins and Dan's stomach does a jump kick into his throat.

"Takes one to know one."

"Touché."

They travel in silence for a minute before Arin speaks up. "Dude, why do your shorts have to be so tiny?" There is nothing but miles of bare leg against Arin's right arm and it's incredibly distracting. Even with the knobbly knees, Dan has nice fucking legs. Most of the guys in class (including Arin) wore basketball shorts. Leave it up to Dan Avidan to be wearing booty shorts.

"My sister stole my gym shorts and put hers in my bag instead," Dan explains. He had been embarrassed as fuck when he first pulled out the shorts, especially since 'CAAAAAAKES' was written across the ass, but he now refused to give them back. He looked damn good in them.

"You can fit into your sister's shorts?" For some reason, that’s fucking hilarious to Arin.

"It's not like she's six!" Dan says, mildly indignant. "Dana's fourteen."

Arin can't help but laugh. "Her name is Dana? Dan and Dana Avidan?"

"Get this," Dan says, "my dad's name is Avi."

"You're fucking kidding me," Arin says through his laughter. Dan can't help but join in. "Avi, Dan, and Dana Avidan. That's golden."

"Well, technically my first name is Leigh, but I've always gone by Dan, so." The hanging sign that points toward the office is coming into view and Dan's excited to get some ice on his throbbing ankle. "My mom is Debbie so she at least escaped the redundant naming trend."

"Leigh is a pretty name," Arin says nonchalantly, and Dan looks up at him again.

"What?" He's blushing again. Fuck.

"Exactly what I said. Leigh is a pretty name." He's sincerely enjoying how flustered he's making Dan. "Makes sense."

"What makes sense?" Dan has decided none of this makes sense, actually. Stupid Arin making him all stupid flustered.

"A pretty name for a pretty dude." Dan squeaks and ducks his head, letting his hair fall in his face to cover the bright blush rushing across the apples of his cheeks. He chews his lip for a moment before peeking up at Arin through the curtain of curls.

"You think I'm pretty?" Arin smiles, and Dan can't help but smile back.

"You're fuckin' gorgeous dude." Dan squeaks again. Arin manages to look away from where Dan is biting his lip, and he sees that they're at the nurse's office. "If I jingle jangle your ankle, I'm sorry." Carefully, he tilts Dan so he can get hold of the door handle and he tugs on it to open it far enough to wedge his foot into. Dan yelps in pain, and Arin squeezes the hand that's around his waist in an attempt to comfort him. "Could I maybe get some assistance?" Arin asks, salty as fuck. The secretary hops up and holds open the door as if she hadn't seen Arin trying to open it with an armful of Avidan. He doesn't tell her thank you because goddamn. She informs them that it'll be several minutes before the nurse can get to them. A kid had a nosebleed somewhere and the nurse was on blood cleanup duty.

Dan is gritting his teeth from all the movement, and Arin quickly takes him into the nurse's room and lays him down on one of the cots. Since the nurse isn’t here, Arin opens the freezer and grabs an ice pack, and after he wraps it in a few paper towels, he hands it to Dan. "This'll probably hurt," he warns while untying Dan's shoe. Dan nods and grits his teeth, but he still whines loudly when Arin takes his shoe off. "Sorry. Fuck, that's swollen as shit."

"Don't fuckin' swear so much," Dan mutters, and Arin snorts. "Will, uh, will you stay with me until the nurse gets here?" He's embarrassed again. He blames the constant blushing on Arin, 100%.

Arin sits down next to him and grabs the pillow from the head of the cot and plops it in his own lap before carefully maneuvering Dan's foot to rest on top of it. He holds the ice pack to where it's most swollen. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it before handing it to Dan. "Could I have your number?"

"Uh, sure. My phone is in my locker in the locker room," he explains, inputting his number. Arin laughs when he sees that he put his name as Danny (the pretty one) 💋. Dan smiles at him and it's his turn to blush. Dan opens his mouth to say something, but they're interrupted by the nurse bustling in through the door.

"Oh, Danny," she says, and Dan grins sheepishly. "What the hell did you do now?"

"I tried to play kickball," he says.

"And that was your first mistake," she teases.

"How often are you in here?" Arin asks quietly, and Dan pokes him in the ribs.

"Shut up."

"I could start carrying you everywhere," he offers.

"That would be an improvement," Nurse Kathy says, and Dan groans in exasperation. She begins examining Dan's ankle, and without thinking about it, Dan reaches out and squeezes Arin's hand. If Kathy notices, she doesn't comment on it. "Well, I'm gonna have to call your mom. I don't think it's more than a bad sprain, but you can't be sure without an x-ray."

"Dammit," Dan mutters.

Arin has to cover his mouth to quiet his laughter when Kathy calls Dan's mom, because he can hear Debbie ask "what did he do this time?"

"Shut up," Dan repeats, but he’s got a smile on his face. "I'm not used to my grasshopper legs yet!"

"At least they're good looking grasshopper legs." Ah, there's the flustered squeak again.

"I hate to interrupt," Kathy says with a smile on her face, "but could you get Dan's stuff from his locker?"

Dan writes the combination to his main locker and his gym locker on Arin's arm. "Thank you," he tells him.

"Sure thing, string bean!" He ducks out of Dan's reach when he tries to poke him in retaliation, laughing at Dan's frown.

Arin makes it back to the office in time to end up holding the door for Dan's mom. He follows her into the nurse's room so he can give Dan his stuff.

"Dan, why are you wearing Dana's shorts?" Debbie asks, and Arin breaks into a fit of giggles.

Dan snatches his gym bag from Arin. "That's not important," Dan mutters. Debbie sighs loudly, but lets it go.

"And who's this handsome young man?" she asks, turning to Arin.

"Debbie, no," Dan whines, covering his face. "What have I done to deserve this?"

Arin shakes the proffered hand and smiles sheepishly. Dan looks a lot like his mom.

"I'm Arin. I helped the damsel in distress get down here."

"Lord, take me now," Dan grumbles. Everyone else ignores him.

"Thank you for helping him," Debbie says, and Arin beams with pride.

He stays until Debbie and Dan are headed out the door, just in case he's needed for something. As they head outside, Arin hears Debbie say to Dan, "He's cute, Dan. Why haven't I met him before?"

which is met with a loud, "Oh, my God, Doobles, please stop talking."

Arin doesn't even have to see him to know Dan's face is bright pink. Before heading back to class, Arin fires off a text to Dan, who probably won't get around to checking it until later.

Check ur gym bag 😉

He doesn't get a response until he's a few blocks from his house.

Oh god what did you put in my bag?? Is it dicks I bet it's dicks

Pause. Oh!! Uh yeah uh I'd love to go to the movies with you :)

Arin practically skips the rest of the way home.

#shipgrumps #polygrumps #egobang #mywriting #this is a scene right out of my life minus the cute gay shit

103 notes · View notes

awkwarddezzy · 8 years ago

Text

Ignite

Pairing: Dan x Phil

Genre: friendship, romance, slight angst

TW: swearing, mentions of alcohol

Word count: 7,494

Summary: Hawaii: the state everyone knows as paradise. For Dan Howell, the label is far from what his life is truly like. When Phil transfers to Dan’s high school from Manchester, the two boys instantly become friends. But will the revelation of Dan’s hidden past affect their budding friendship? Phan HS AU.

Hey ya’ll! This is technically my first fanfic posting of 2017, although I already had this written back in 2016. I mentioned a handful of times in tags for my shitposting that I wrote a Phan-inspired story as part of my short story portfolio for my creative writing class last semester. I submitted said story for possible publication at my college’s local journal, so cross your fingers with me that it’ll make the cut. I mean, can you imagine a phanfic legitimately bring published?

My professor absolutely loved the story. Even though it was over the word limit (she set it as 4,000), she told me she didn’t mind the word count as long as the plot was good. Needless to say, I got an A on it. Hell, when we had to type an analysis about our stories, I specifically mentioned being inspired by Dan and Phil and how homogenous relationships are often undermined in young adult literature.

I’m proud of this baby. Aside from character names (because I didn’t wanna plagiarize), this is nearly word for word of that story. I guarantee this is different than any phanfics ever to exist. One, because the setting is in Hawaii (our professor gave us extra credit if we tied our story to Hawaii in some way since I do go to a community college in Oahu). Two, to make it personal, I made my Dan-inspired character Filipino (because I’m Filipino myself) and kept my Phil-inspired character British. In short, this is my story using the YouTubers I had in mind while writing the story. It’s basically a high school AU, which I’m used to writing when it comes to AU’s.

I finally got around to posting this in light of Phil’s birthday. I CAN’T BELIEVE OUR BELOVED ANGEL BEAN IS FINALLY 30. *screams* He’s getting old. We’re getting old. Jesus Christ, Phil’s finally reached the age of parenthood. It’s only a matter of time when we see Phil Jr’s walking around England lol.

Now on with the story!

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

When people use fire as a metaphor for love, I roll my eyes and silently think these people are delirious. They think love is a burning passion they allow themselves to consume them completely. Or they think love is a spontaneous combustion when two pairs of eyes are caught in a lingering stare for the first time. But those are the fools talking. Those people are blind to what fire really means.

Fire is despising the source of its ignition.

Fire is a glow you believed had completely faded, yet still remained raging within you.

Fire is a curse and a traitor, yet also a blessing and a helping hand.

Fire is what makes me fluctuate between being a dreamer and a realist.

~:~

He’s a needle in a haystack with his raven hair, cerulean eyes, and pale skin. The cafeteria is swarming with incoherent conversations between students coming in and out of the stuffy building. I stand stock still, lunch tray in hand, debating whether or not I should go talk to him.

My feet move toward the boy with no hesitation. He stares intently at me when I place my lunch tray on the table’s wooden surface and sit on the benched seat across from him.

We remain silent for several seconds before I blurt out, “I like your shirt.” He’s wearing a white t-shirt embedded with lyrics from a Panic at the Disco song.

“You like PATD?” His voice carries a heavy British accent.

“One of my favorite bands.”

A corner of his mouth curves slightly upward. “What other bands are you into?”

“Ummm… Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, All Time Low, Breaking Benjamin, Muse-”

“Whoa there. What are you, some Asian clone of me?”

I chuckle. “No, but that would be pretty epic.”

He grins. “You’re the first person I’ve ever met who know Muse.”

Warmth seeps to my cheeks. “They’re one of the first bands I got into. I have a soft spot for their Origins of Symmetry album.”

“No way! That’s my favorite album too.”

I beam. Going to meet up with my friends doesn’t seem like a priority anymore. “So how come I’ve never seen you around?”

He picks up a carrot stick, dipping it into the blob of ranch dressing on the top right corner of his lunch tray, then taking a bite out of it. “I moved here from Manchester a couple weeks ago. You know, for a place where everyone want to vacation, it’s way different when you’re actually living there.”

“That’s paradise for ya. Tourists get beaches, fine accommodations, and hot hula girls. Locals get Pidgin, spam musubi, and a complex bus system.”

“I’m out of my element here.”

“You’ll learn to adjust.”

He finishes the rest of the carrot stick. “I’m Phillip by the way, but you can call me Phil.”

“Phil… got it.”

“Uh-huh. My entire first name makes me sound like a grandpa.”

I laugh. “You’re gonna be a grandpa someday anyway.”

“Hey, I’m still young! Lemme enjoy my teen years while I can.”

“Sure, Phillip.”

He sticks his tongue out to me playfully. “And what should I call you, Phil 2.0?”

“Well Mr. PATD, you can call me Dan. It’s short for Daniel.”

“Dan.” My name rolls off his lips in a way that sounds as if he has known me for years rather than a few minutes. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Perhaps the school year won’t be as boring as I thought it would be.

~:~

Sam, Louise, and PJ bombard Phil with questions when I introduce him to them after school that same day.

“What’s England like?”

“How do you like Oahu so far?”

“Have you tried a malasada yet?”

“What do you think about our school?”

“Why did you move here?”

“Have you ever met Emma Watson?”

“Guys! Geez, calm your tits.” I look toward Phil apologetically. “Sorry. We don’t get to meet a lot of new students who come from outside the island.”

“It’s okay.” Phil smiles shyly at my friends. “No one’s really tried to talk to me for more than two minutes till Dan approached me. I was afraid I’d be a loner for the entire year.”

PJ whistles. “Damn, Daniel. What happened to being antisocial?”

“I prefer the term introvert,” I retort.

“You haven’t made the first move in anything since you told Sam how you felt about her,” Louise says.

Phil glances between Sam and me. “You two are boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Sam loops her arm around my elbow, pressing her chest against the side of my body. “As of a couple weeks ago, yes.”

“I didn’t know that,” Phil says, giving me a scrutinizing gaze.

I rub the back of my head. “I thought it wasn’t important to mention until you got to meet my friends in person.”

“Ah.” He nods in understanding, but I detect a hint of a different emotion in his eyes. Disappointment? Disapproval? I internally shake my head. It’s probably my usual paranoia of students’ judgments whenever they see Sam and I together. Even though Sam has been my best friend for years, anyone outside my circle of friends haven’t fully comprehend why Sam prefers to be around PJ, Louise, and I. Her near flawless looks makes her more fitting for the popular crowd rather than the nerdy emo’s.

“Well then,” Louise chimes in, shoving my momentary doubts out of my head. “Who want to go to Starbucks?”

~:~

Phil gives me a tour of his house the weekend following the first week back to school. The moment I step inside the Lester residence, I’m astonished by how lively his home is compared to mine. There are houseplants in practically every corner of the house. Polaroid photos of his family are tacked to the walls of the living room. Upstairs, in Phil’s bedroom, he has various plushies littering the floor, a full-length poster of Sarah Michelle Geller on the wall behind his bed, and even a tiny cactus displayed on his bedside drawer. His twin-sized bed is covered with a green, blue, and purple checkered bedsheet, shades I think is fitting to his colorful personality.

“Sorry it’s a little messy in here,” Phil says. “I have a lot of stuff and my new room’s not as big as my old one in Manchester.”

“It’s fine. My room’s a bit messy too.”

He smiles, picking up a Totoro plushie and dropping it on his bed. “So what’s your flat like?”

“Flat?”

“Apartment.”

“Oh.” Reminder: start learning some British slang. “Not as great as yours. Roaches creeping on the floor at night. Shitty air conditioning. Noisy ass neighbors. At least my mom makes enough as a nurse to keep a roof over my head.”

“What about your dad?”

“He’s… gone.”

He frowns. “Sorry to hear that.”

I respond with a curt nod. “But you’re free to come over next weekend if you want.”

His frown disappears, morphing back to the smile that he wore earlier. “That’ll be great.”

If only you knew just how much I miss him, I think. And hate him at the same time.

~:~

There’s a paper bag from Bath and Body Works on Phil’s bedroom floor when I stay over at the Lesters on a Saturday night in mid-October. I’ve been spending most of the weekend so far doing homework and catching up with episodes of Attack on Titan and JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure. Sam and Louise are busy rehearsing for a PowerPoint presentation for their Modern Hawaiian History class and PJ is helping his family prepare for his cousin’s debutante, so I’ve been spending the time outside of my apartment hanging out with Phil.

“What’s with the bag?” I ask.

“Oh this?” He picks up the paper bag and empties its contents, revealing three candles and a bottle of lotion. “Mum went to Pearlridge today, so I asked her to buy these for me.”

I scan over the candle labels: Pumpkin Spice, Apple Pie, and Marshmallow Fireside. “Never pegged you for a candle person.”

“It’s a thing that runs in my family.” He picks up one of the candles. “In their uni years, my dad confessed his feelings for my mum by spelling out ‘I love you’ with candles at a beach in Liverpool. Mum loved the gesture so much, and since then, Dad’s been getting her candles on every anniversary.”

“Your dad sounds like a complete romantic.”

He nods, placing the candle on his bed. “I think candles are an excellent representation of my parents’ marriage. Their love is a candle with a flame that’ll never die.”

“They must be really happy together.”

“Twenty years and still going strong.”

Bittersweet memories of my mom, dad, my 10-year-old brother Adrian, and me surface in my mind. Thanksgivings when my dad splurged on the turkey special from Golden Coin. Christmases when we woke up at 7 AM to open gifts while watching the Macy’s Christmas Day parade. Birthdays celebrated with dinners at Max’s Restaurant. Those days are a lifetime ago, days when I still looked forward to Sundays when Dad was off from work and gave me guitar lessons.

“Yeah…” Those days are a thing of the past. On the bright side, having an absent father taught me not to be naïve and fueled my appreciation for rock music.

As if sensing my distress, Phil says, “So… wanna play some Smash Bros?”

I grin. Crushing him in one of my video games is a healthy distraction I need from my vortex of childhood memories. “I’d be stupid not to.”

~:~

When Sam suggests for me to perform for the winter pep rally, the fears I buried when I started dating her crash through my mind like a wrecking ball.

“You’re kidding,” I say in a monotone voice. We’re on my bed, Sam laying down with her dyed dirty blonde hair fanned across my Pikachu pillow and me sitting cross-legged with my guitar settled on my lap. I was in the middle of playing “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol when Sam casually brought up the question.

“I’m not.” She moves into an upright position. “Think about it. Five minutes on stage with hundreds of students cheering your name. Phil, Peej, and Lou know how talented you are. Don’t you think it’s about time to let the entire school know too?”

“No.”

She sighs. “It’s your dad, isn’t it? Danny, just because your dad was a musician doesn’t mean you’ll make the same choices he did. Besides, if being at the center of attention isn’t for you, then the pep rally can be a one-time thing. Don’t let your potential go to waste.”

I bite the inside of my mouth. A part of me is itching to live out my dream of capturing people’s souls while I perform, but the other part of me is trembling at the thought of being in my dad’s shoes. Going through with this could open up a possibility of Sam and me splitting apart.

I can’t lose Sam. Even if she isn’t my girlfriend, I can’t imagine a future without her. The Earth can be a cruel planet; I can’t navigate through it without having someone who’s equally as confused about the world as I am by my side.

She curls her arms around my neck. “I know you’re scared, but can you do it for me? For one day, can I pretend to be your rock star girlfriend sitting in the audience as you play a song dedicated to me?”

“What song do you have in mind?”

“Hmmm… a song probably everyone knows, but still fits your style.”

“So… something from Ed Sheeran, Sam Smith, or Bruno Mars?”

“Yeah!” She stares at me with her puppy-dog eyes. “So will you do it?”

One pep rally won’t be the death of you. “I’ll… give it a shot.”

She squeals, peppering the side of my face with kisses. “Thank you thank you thank you! You’re gonna be great, Danny. Show those Mariah Carey wannabees that serenading isn’t dead yet.”

I laugh. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

~:~

Nerves rattle through my body when the student announcers call my name. The audience claps as I make my way onto the platform of the makeshift stage. Standing in front of the microphone stand with the Velcro strap holding my guitar against my abdomen, I position my fingers above the instrument’s strings. Looking out into the crowd, I spot Sam, Phil, PJ, and Louise grinning enthusiastically at me.

You’ll be fine. They’ll be proud of me no matter what happens.

I strum the opening notes of “Give Me Love” by Ed Sheeran. When I start to sing, my pre-performance jitters dissipates. I let my hands do the playing and the lyrics do the talking. I lose myself to the symphonious tune of the song, my heart beating rhythmically like a pendulum. Thoughts about my dad are knocked out of my head, replaced with a surge of joy as I think, Why didn’t I answer to the spotlight’s call sooner?

The gym fills with applause once my performance ends. My friends are on their feet, along with dozens of other juniors, upperclassmen, and even underclassmen.

I beam from ear to ear.

I’ve never felt so alive.

~:~

Hip-hop music pulsates across the spacious area of Chris Kendall’s house. Bodies grind on the open area of the living room where furniture was shoved aside to make room for a dance floor. Parties are definitely never on my agenda. I’m only here at Chris’s graduation party because PJ wanted to go for fun (it was an open invite), Sam and Louise wanted to go to have the full high school experience, and Phil wanted to see if a high school party in Hawaii is any different than the few he went to when he lived in England. Before my performance during the winter pep rally, I was someone that no one spared a second glance. Five months later and two more performances from the spring pep rally and junior prom under my belt, I get hellos from random students in-between class periods and invites to parties from popular students. So here I am, a red plastic cup filled with Pepsi in my hand (I have my values and know better than to take one sip of alcohol) while watching my friends dancing, breathing through my mouth to avoid sniffing the sickly scent of weed and cigarettes.

“Dan!” Phil stumbles out of the kitchen holding an empty Heineken bottle.

“Hey… Phil.” I finish the rest of my drink and toss the cup into one of the trash bags lying around next to the snack table. “You look like you’re having fun.”

“I am! Aren’t you?”

“If by watching people shamelessly doing things they might regret in the morning, sure.”

“Aw. Lighten up, mate!” His palm slaps the back of my shoulder. “Want me to get you a bottle?”

“I’ll pass… wait, how much have you had to drink?”

“Eh, couple bottles I think. Might go for a third.”

“No you aren’t.” I grab his wrist and drag him to the front door. When we’re outside, I lead him to the backyard. I don’t want to haul an intoxicated Phil back to his house. Perhaps some fresh air can sober him up.

I lay him down on his back on the grass, then sit down next to him. His mouth forms into a lazy smile.

“You look pretty, Dan.”

I laugh. “I’m not a girl, dude.”

“What a shame. You’d be my perfect Buffy.”

“You and your Buffy obsession.”

“Yeah… but I love you more than Buffy.”

My blood goes cold. He isn’t saying what I think he’s saying, is he?

Phil takes my silence as a sign for him to continue. “Why did I meet a perfect guy who’s taken? You’re so smart and talented and so good at video games. I had so much hope the first time we met that we could someday be something more, then I find out you have a girlfriend and I had to learn how to just be friends with an impossible dream.” He sighs. “Why did it have to be you I fell in love with?”

Suddenly, he takes a fistful of my shirt and yanks me down onto him. I fall on top of him, my face inches away from his.

“I… love you,” he mumbles before his eyelids flutter close.

I roll myself off from his body, then scramble to sit up and scoot away from him. Heat rushes to my face, my own body quivering from his words.

“Holy shit,” I whisper.

I touch my lips. He may not have kissed me, but his words feel like he did.

~:~ One week has passed since Chris’s party.

There’s no one I can tell about Phil’s drunk confession. He has no recollection of what he told me, and I have no clue if what he said is true. There’s a likelihood it isn’t. People can say all sorts of unpredictable things when they’re shitfaced drunk and not mean any of it.

Yeah right. No one says “I love you” to me without being serious.

“Fancy playing Mario Kart while we wait for the others?” Phil asks. We’re sitting on the sofa in my living room, waiting for Sam, Louise, and PJ to arrive. The five of us aren’t in the mood of going out today, so we planned a casual indoor hangout in my apartment.

“Sure,” I reply. “I’ll go get us some drinks.”

“Grab me an iced tea, yeah?”

I smile. After living in Oahu for nearly a year, Phil gradually got himself addicted to Hawaiian Sun drinks. “You’re in luck. Mom bought a fresh stock just for you.”

I leave Phil to peruse my video game collection under the TV stand and head to the kitchen. I open the refrigerator door and grab two cans of Hawaiian Sun: an Iced Tea for Phil and a Lilikoi for me. Carrying the cans back into the living room, I’m putting the two drinks on the coffee table when I hear three knocks on the door.

That bus ride was quick. I dash to the front door. Upon unlocking it, the face that greets me is one I least expect to see.

“Daniel.” The way he speaks my name has the familiar tenderness that would gravitate me into his arms when I was in elementary school. But hearing his voice now is a thousand needles stabbing at my heart all at once. My lungs shrivel at the pain scorching my chest.

I can’t breathe. My vision is blurring from months of pent-up resentment. Not knowing what to do, I back away and rush to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I collapse on the floor and bury my fingers in my hair. This cannot be happening to me.

A few minutes later, I hear the door swing open.

“Mate!” Phil kneels down in front of me, his face contorted into a concerned expression. “You look like rubbish.”

“No shit.”

“That guy at the door told me he’s your father. Is it true?”

I remove my hands from my head. How he could be staying so goddamn calm? He should be furious at me for lying to him, not composed and acting like I didn’t drop a bomb on him.

“He is,” I whisper.

“You said he was gone.” “He was, but he may as well be dead to me.”

“Why? What did he do to you?”

I swallow my anger threatening to rise again. “He left me, alright? He left my family for some woman named Erica he met on the streets while we were on vacation for the summer in the Philippines when I was nine. They were contacting each other behind our backs after we left and Mom caught ‘em together at Ala Moana a year later when Erica came to visit him. Mom and Dad ended up getting divorced the summer before I was in 7th grade, just shy of my 12th birthday. He left for the Philippines afterward and he’s been living there with Erica since.”

Phil doesn’t immediately respond, just staring at me in shock. I use his silence to continue my rant.

“Music is important to me because of my dad. He played all sorts of gigs when he was my age, but gave up his musician dream so he could support my mom when she was pregnant with me. He taught me how to play a guitar and got me into rock music when he told me rock is music in its rawest form.” I direct my attention to the vinyl cover of Muse’s Origins of Symmetry album nailed next to the window. “Dad’s the reason why I love that album. He bought it for me on my 7th birthday. I listened to that record on repeat after the divorce and was what got me through the first few year without him.”

“And you hadn’t seen him since the divorce,” Phil concludes.

I shake my head. “He came once during the holidays when I was in 9th grade. I pretty much avoided talking to him the whole time.”

The wake of a wildfire is outside of my bedroom. He’s the cause of why my family is a mess. He chose another woman over us. How can I forgive the man who destroyed my picture-perfect family? How can I let go of the hurt I’m still feeling four years later?

“I don’t blame you for not telling me,” Phil says.

I turn my head to look at Phil, vulnerability running through my veins. “I’m a horrible person. I should’ve told you a long time ago, but I kept it a secret because I didn’t want you to know how crappy my life really is.”

“Again, not blaming you.” He drapes his arm across my shoulders. “I get that you felt betrayed by your dad, and nothing can erase the pain you still feel. But he’s out there right now. He flew whatever miles it is from the Philippines to Hawaii to see you. Nothing’s hunky-dory between you two, but you can still fix things with him. I saw how crushed he looked when you ran off on him like that. He wants to make things right. I’m not saying you should outright forgive him, but I think you should give him a second chance. Let him be a father to you while he still has healthy lungs and isn’t in a wheelchair.”

I look into his eyes, his blue orbs looking back at me with a softness that douses my anger away. As tension rolls off my shoulders, the memory of his drunk confession flashes through my mind.

“Why did it have to be you I fell in love with?”

Did Dad or Erica ever speak the exact same sentence to each other at one point in their relationship? What was it about Erica that drew my dad to him? How did Dad know he loved Erica more than my mom? I don’t know the answer to those questions. I don’t know why Mom didn’t fight for her right to remain as Dad’s wife. I don’t know how Erica’s family reacted when they learned about her relationship with a married man. I don’t know much about their relationship, other than how they met and how they loved each other to a point of sacrificing their family’s trust to be with each other.

The clarity hits me like a curveball.

Love is an emotion that can’t be tamed. It can blind us, be an intense slap to the face, hurt us in any way possible, but it can never leave us completely empty. It’s why I’m still affected by my dad’s choices. It’s why I still prefer rock over any other genre of music, even when it was Dad’s preferred music style. It’s why there’s still fire raging inside me whenever I think about Dad. I still love him amidst the ache he imprinted in my heart. It’s why, as I gaze into Phil’s vibrant eyes that always seem to contain a gentleness I usually don’t see in males, I finally understand what I’ve been fearing all along. I wasn’t afraid of thinking about the past and making the same wrong choices as my dad; I was afraid of listening to the other side of a story and discovering things that may have been right in front of me all along.

“Go talk to him,” he murmurs, drawing his arm away from me. The loss of his friendly touch leaves a dull ache in my chest.

It’s time to face the music.

“Mind if you come with me?”

“Of course. Did you think I was planning to let you face him alone?”

Fireflies stir in my stomach. Once I deal with the person outside this room, I’ll think about what these fireflies mean. I don’t know why the fireflies popped up unexpectedly, but I sort of like it.

Phil helps me stand, staying close to me as I open the door. We walk into the living room, where I find Dad sitting on the sofa. I take a deep breath, my hand taking purchase on Phil’s arm. His presence is my gravity, helping me to control negativity in my emotions. If I’m going to make an effort to patch things up, I can’t go berserk if I feel the slightest agitation.

“Dad?”

I hear his breath hitch when he turns his head to the direction of my voice. Same dark chocolate eyes. Same unruly brunette hair. Same mole marked on the ridge of his nose. I’m looking at an older version of myself, albeit as someone wiser that has seen more of the world. That, and I can’t stand my natural messy hair. I can’t leave the house without using my hair straightener.

“Anak,” he says softly.

The fireflies glow for a brief second.

“It’s okay,” Phil whispers. “He’s not going to hurt you.”

Dad glances toward Phil. “This is your friend, right?”

Phil gives an awkward wave at Dad. “Hi. Sorry I didn’t properly introduce myself earlier. I’m Phillip, Phil for short.”

“Phil … it’s nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Howell.”

I can’t help the low chuckle that escapes my lips. “This isn’t Pride and Prejudice, dude.”

Phil laughs. “What? This is a momentous occasion, Dan. This is more nerve-wracking than making a first impression to my girlfriend’s parents.”

“You never even had a girlfriend.”

“I will one day.”

For some reason, I’m a bit upset by his response. So did his drunk confession mean nothing? Or is he making an Oscar-worthy ruse to cover up his feelings? My effort to analyze his emotions is only confusing me further.

Dad clears his throat. Right. Dad first, Phil later.

“Anyway-” I say, “Dad, what are you doing here all of a sudden? If you’re looking for Mom, she won’t be home from work till around six.”

“I’m aware of that. I actually wanted to talk to you first, if it’s okay,” Dad replies.

“Fine, but Phil stays with us.”

“I see no problem with that.”

Phil and I make our way over to the sofa, my hand still on Phil’s arm. Dad moves to give us room, leaving me to sit in the middle so Dad is to my left and Phil is to my right.

“Where’s Erica?” I begin.

Dad shakes his head. “I asked her to come, but she thought it would be best for me to be here alone.”

“How long will you stay?”

“A week, two weeks at the most.”

“Dad…” I move my hand from Phil’s arm to his jean-covered thigh. “Ummm… this might sound out of the blue, but how did you know you were in love with Erica?”

“Oh… to be honest, Jessica was the reason why,” he tells me sheepishly.

“Mom?” I say incredulously. “But… how?”

He smiles, leaning back on the sofa. “In many ways, Erica is a lot like your mother. She put her studies first, cared about her family more than anything else, and worked hard to give herself a good future. She became an attorney to provide for her family, and she cherishes her job so much, though she told me more than once she felt she was missing something from her life. She didn’t know what it was until she reunited with her childhood friend.”

“Who was that?”

“Your mother.”

“Wait… what? I thought Mom and Erica were strangers until you got together with Erica.”

“Your mother and I only said that because we thought you weren’t ready for the truth.”

“Dad! I was 11! I watched enough episodes of Maalala Mo Kaya to know what reality is about.”

He looks at me forlornly. “I know that now, anak. I’m sorry.”

I sigh. “I’m turning 17 next week. Whatever secret you’re keeping from me, I wanna hear it.”

He nods. The story he tells me drastically alters my perspective of Dad.

Mom and Erica knew each other because they were best friends when they were kids and lost touch with each other after Mom immigrated from Cebu to Honolulu when she was eight.

Dad courted Erica in high school. When he got accepted into an exchange program for the University of Hawaii in Manoa, he made a promise with Erica to go on a date with her once he graduated from college and moved back home.

During his third year at UH Manoa, he met Mom during an open mic night at a bar in Waikiki. Mom was in UH Manoa’s nursing program and skipped a night of studying to hang out with her friends at the bar that Dad had his gig at.

Mom and Dad became friends, which gradually turned into love.

Dad was guilty about breaking his promise to Erica, but Erica understood and she wished the best for him and Mom.

Parenthood treated Mom and Dad well when they had me and Adrian.

Then came the Philippine vacation.

Dad hadn’t communicated with Erica since he told her about his relationship with Mom, so he was surprised when he bumped into her at a Chow King restaurant while buying lunch for Mom, Adrian, and me. They exchanged phone numbers and used long-distance phone-lines for communication over the course of a year, where they found themselves revisiting their past and falling in love with each other all over again.

During winter break of my 5th grade year, Erica lied to her parents about wanting to spend Christmas and New Years with a friend in America so she could see Dad, even if it was just for a few days and a majority of her time would be spent cooped up in her hotel room at Ala Moana Hotel. On that fateful day when Mom saw Dad and Erica together, she was at Ala Moana Shopping Center to do some last-minute shopping while she supposedly thought Dad was helping my Tito Kevin pick out a gift for my Aunt Elizabeth. As soon as Mom exited from Macy’s, she witnessed Dad and Erica holding hands while sitting at one of the tables outside the neighboring Starbucks. Erica saw Mom and that was when all hell broke loose. Mom tried not to cause a scene at Ala Moana, but she had a crying fit when she learned that Dad’s mistress and her childhood friend, Erica Bautista, were the same woman.

That night, when I overheard my parents arguing but Mom told us she and Dad were disagreeing on something about bills, it was really about Mom’s reaction to finding out about the affair.

For months, they kept the issue a secret from Adrian and me. Mom swallowed her pride, staying in the sidelines as she encouraged Dad to go after his true love. The issue loomed like a raincloud over their heads once Dad chose Erica over Mom, and that raincloud lingered until Mom and Dad finally told me about Erica and their mutual decision to file for divorce.

Unfortunately, that raincloud only transferred over me, towering over my own head and remaining there to this day.

“Damn” is all I can say when Dad finishes speaking.

The pieces are coming together.

It was never supposed to be Mom and Dad.

If Dad never met Mom, it would have been Dad and Erica.

It’s a classic case of how wrong timing can affect even the strongest of relationships.

“Fucking hell,” Phil breathes. Hearing him swear surprises me. He rarely swears, and when he does, it’s when he’s incredibly emotional about something.

“I didn’t tell you this because I thought you might dislike Erica more if I told you the truth,” Dad tells me.

Everything coming out of Dad’s mouth sheds more authenticity to the entire situation. All this time, Dad was never at fault. It wasn’t his fault that Mom was an intervention who prevented him from keeping his promise to Erica. It wasn’t his fault for reaching a point where he had to choose between his wife and kids over a woman his heart subconsciously still yearned for. It wasn’t his fault for allowing his heart to direct him down a path that led him to hurt those he cared about. Everything happens for a reason, and it’s the reason why I’m existing in the first place. If his life went according to plan, I wouldn’t have ever taken my first breath in this world.

Love isn’t always kind. It isn’t an easy stroll through the park or a cookie to steal from a cookie jar. It’s having to pay 75 cents for a gumball from one of those machines in supermarkets or trying to find parking during Black Friday at any mall. Love always comes with a price. For Dad, the price for his happiness with one woman is the trust he has from those he loves the most.

“That was a possibility,” I say. “Or I could’ve appreciated her role in your life. We’ll never know. Either way, it wouldn’t have changed how much you love Erica.”

Dad nods in agreement. “Erica hasn’t changed how much I love you, Adrian, and your Mom. It was wrong of me to leave you how I did, but I’m here to right my wrong.”

The fire in my chest blazes more furiously than it ever has before. Flames send the fireflies in my stomach glimmering in a flurry of excitement, sending my emotions in a tailspin.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been a good father ever since I moved to the Philippines,” Dad continues. “It wasn’t my intention for you to think I didn’t care about you anymore, but it was my way to give you space. You were angry at me, and I believed distance was the solution to ease your anger. When you refused to speak to me when I spent Christmas with you on your first year of high school, I realized the distance led you to resent me more. I don’t want to hurt you anymore, anak. I’m tired of being away from you. My life may be in the Philippines, but my heart belongs here with our family.”

My insides melt. These are the words I longed to hear Dad say. I’d be a fool if I ignored my subconscious whispering how I should stop being hostile and allow my dad to make up for lost time.

“Did you steal that line from a Justin Bieber song?” I joke.

Hope swims in Dad’s eyes. “So you forgive me?”

“Not… exactly,” I answer hesitantly. “But we have two weeks. We can go around the island like we used to.”

I’m not looking at the enemy anymore. For the first time in years, I’m looking at my idol, the man who rooted my dedication to music, the greatest hero I’ve ever known.

A smile cracks on Dad’s face. “Your old man is looking forward to that.”

~:~

Summers brings goodbyes, hope, and refreshing starts. Four years ago, summer was bidding a reluctant farewell to the perfect family I had. One year ago, summer was sharing my first kiss with a girl who meant more to me than my best friend. This summer, a new chapter with a man I granted a second shot at redemption opened up, and an opportunity to follow my heart like every protagonist in a cheesy YA novel is ushering in a wave of anticipation of what the vast unknown will bring.

The sky is enveloped by a murky blanket of gleaming stars and a moon illuminating the night. Sitting cross-legged on the rooftop of my apartment complex, I fish out another roll of Smarties from my jacket pocket. I unravel the plastic packaging and shove pieces of the colorful candy into my mouth, savoring its sweet, tangy mixture. Aside from the occasional car zooming along the streets at midnight, I relish the relative silence. My mind is still reeling over all the things that occurred since Dad showed up at the front door of my apartment.

The two weeks that Dad was here was a hodgepodge of family beach trips and father-son visits to various music stores around the island. He shared tales of his life with Erica in Manila, and in return, I shared my memories about Sam and my friends over the last four years. Those two weeks were us being mismatched pieces slowly fusing together to create the complete puzzle, with several holes that are yet to be filled. By the time he flew back to the Philippines, I was closer to the point of one hundred percent forgiving him. It’ll take me months before I can truly move on from the past, but I’m getting there. Time will tell when that day will come.

After Dad left, I took the time to figure out my feelings for Sam and Phil. Before I met Phil, I thought Sam was my endgame. I saw a future with her after high school. I visualized the two of us moving in together, having a beachside wedding, honeymooning in Paris, and raising our kids with our brown or black hair and brown eyes. But after Chris’s party and the long conversation I had with Dad, I questioned where my heart belonged. Sam was everything a boy could ever want for a girlfriend, someone who Mom was ecstatic about someday watching me say “I do” to, someone who filled that empty void when Dad left. Phil, on the other hand, was everything I never knew existed as an option for me, someone who enamored me since day one and opened up parts of me that I never showed to anyone aside from Sam, PJ, and Louise, someone who was the reason why I willingly mended my relationship with Dad.

I was confused. Do I choose safety with the anchor that has always kept me grounded, or do I choose happiness with the candle who sparked an incandescence within me that not even Sam or my friends were able to light up?

A few hours ago, on a park bench with the sun dipping down in the horizon, I broke up with Sam. It was a difficult choice that I nearly backed down from doing, but it was one Dad would be proud of me for doing. Being in a position of dumping my girlfriend made me understand why it was hard for Dad to divorce Mom. True love isn’t measured by years or the number of people that approve of the relationship; true love is the person who makes your heartbeat stutter and makes you smile to any love song that plays on the radio, no matter how cliché the lyrics are. Love is the fire that ignites your soul and what makes you the best person you can be.

Despite the tears that were shed, Sam understood. In fact, she had a hunch that Phil harbored feelings for me. She knew it was a matter of time before I caught on and braced herself for the feasible day where I could return his feelings. Following a friendly hug, we left the park knowing that even though we aren’t a couple anymore, our friendship will never fade. We’ve always been there for each other; we won’t let our breakup drive a wedge between us.

“Dan?”

I turn around. Phil stands behind me, his ruffled raven hair reflected under the moonlight and his blue irises flickering with uncertainty. We’re heading back to school next week, so my friends and I are spending our last few days of summer break with a weekend-long sleepover in my apartment.

“Yo.”

“Mind if I sit with you?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He nods, then moves to sit directly across from me, mirroring my sitting position.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks.

I chew the remaining chunks of Smarties in my mouth and swallow. “How can I? We’re seniors. We have one more year in high school before we’re thrust into adulthood and we’re little fishes trying to swim away from huge-ass sharks. Not that I’m ready to grow up, but my teen years are moving way too quick and I need time to slow down just a bit.”

He chuckles. “True. I’m not ready for senioritis to bite me in the bum yet. But I think that’s not what you’re really worried about.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You have a few candy wrappers next to you. You don’t binge-eat sweets unless you’re thinking really hard about something.”

He’s right. My sweet tooth is my version of stress-eating.

“You’re not wrong,” I say. “Truth is, you’re kinda the reason why I’m this close to getting a cavity.”

“How come?”

“Well… how else do you cope with realizing you love someone who’s so close yet so far beyond your grasp?”

“What? Dan, what Shojo anime have you been watching lately?”

“None. I just… God, I’ll just say it. I like you, Phil. I really, really like you and I might even love you, but I don’t know if I do yet ‘cause it’s too soon to tell.” I bend my legs so my knees are curled to my chest and my chin is on my kneecaps. “Fate is so screwed up. I shouldn’t be feeling this way, but I do. You’re strangely interesting and you get me so well. You’re the ying to my yang. You complete me, and I can’t live with the idea of seeing you with someone else. It’s so selfish of me since I already had Sam, but there’s something about you that wants you more than a friend. And… yeah.”

He blinks. “Whoa.”

“I know. Now let me down easy so we can forget I said any of that and I can start dealing with rejection.”

“Rejection? Dan, what are you, blind? I’ve loved you the moment you approached me and said, and I quote ‘I like your shirt.’”

“You still remember that?”

“How can I? It was love at first sight.”

“Love at first sight? This isn’t the 19th century.”

“Not according to the swiping on Tinder.”

I laugh. Being with Phil is easy. He’s carefree and doesn’t mind my wit. Even Sam has her occasions of being offended by my snark.

“I’m serious though. I do love you.” He leans closer, his hand reaching out to rest on top of mine. “I love how you can speak like a wise old philosopher. I don’t know how I went most of my life without you, because you’re what I was missing out on all this time. You came into my life with a purpose. I don’t know what I did to deserve you as a friend, but whatever it is, having you around made my life so much better.”

I look down at our entwined fingers. Holding his hand is comforting, a gesture that should be so wrong yet feels so right. This is what tadhana is. Destiny works in mysterious ways. As our fingers entwine, I’m reminded by how touching him soothed me when I spoke to Dad. He was my gravity then, and he’s my gravity now. The gravity is a force that’s much more powerful than I foresaw.

“Are you sure about this?” I murmur. “I’ve already hurt Sam. I don’t want to hurt you too if this doesn’t work out.”

“It will.” His eyes sharpen with conviction. “I won’t let anyone ruin what we have. Even if the universe hates what we are, I won’t ever hate you.” He releases my hands and maneuvers them to caress my cheeks. “I love you, Dan.”

I nod. Someday, I’ll be able to repeat those three words back to him.

Because when our lips meet and my stomach is churning with gentle waves, I’m certain that what Phil and I have is a fire that’ll never be extinguished.

What we have is real and here to stay.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

For any of you that read any of my former phanfics, I used a few lines from The Story of Us and Don’t You Wonder. I couldn’t resist using my one-liners while I wrote this.

Anak means “my son/daughter” and tadhana means “destiny.” I can’t speak Filipino fluently, but I do understand some of the language.

Maalala Mo Kaya is an ongoing Filipino TV series that showcases real-life stories of celebrities and average people like us. Dan’s family background was highly inspired by numerous eps I watched of MMK involving broken families.

Hope ya’ll enjoyed this! I had fun incorporating aspects of the “local” life in Hawaii, especially since the release of Pokemon Sun and Moon. If you haven’t tried a malasada, you should. There’s a reason why Hau loves ‘em. Don’t give spam such a hard time, because I eat spam musubi’s often and they’re delicious. And the bus system? Trust me, if you aren’t sure familiar with public transportation involving the bus system, you’re easily gonna get lost. Heaven knows how many tourists I witnessed questioning what bus to catch. Hell, even a local like me sometimes has to consult Google Maps to figure out what bus to ride.

Originally, I approached this story with a love triangle angle, but it was my professor who recommended I should try focusing on a father-son relationship instead. Best decision ever, because writing the story that way felt way more real.

~ AA

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