#like before this every first date id been on ended up in long term relationships lol

[um-stop-please]

I HATE how much I miss them. I hate how I wired my brain to tell them when I find something that makes me happy, everything makes me think of them. I hate how little they seem to think of me and how much I wish they were still mine. I hate that I can't find anyone to replace them with. I hate that yesterday would've been our anniversary. I hate that it's been nearly 2 months and I can't let them go.

the adjustment disorder I developed being out here is largely because I lost them. they won't leave my mind and it hurts so much. none of the coping strategies I've developed help. I think above all I hate that I got so attached when from the get go I knew the relationship wasn't going to pan out in the long run. how did they break through the emotional barrier I had up, how did they end up becoming my world

[yehet-me-up]

Reboot

Pairing: Jongdae/Chen x reader (female)

Word Count: 26,971 😬 read it in a mobile web browser if it crashes! 

Rating: (PG13) for swearing + sexy vibes (nothing more explicit than a kiss on the page though)

Summary: Chen’s Electronics is a mystery, both how the store came to be and the man running it. When you start working as a receptionist for the enigma that is Kim Jongdae, you’re determined to be the one who unravels the mystery. You’re prepared for anything, except for falling in love with Jongdae himself. 

Part eight of the Exodus Mall series (Can be read independently, but you’ll get some extra backstory if you read the other parts first!)

A/N: I’m SO delighted that Jongdae is getting his IRL happily ever after and I’m so excited to wrap up his fictional counterpart’s story today, so he can have his ending as well 💕

March 15th, 1997

Capitol Hill is in full swing, the promise of spring drawing the sleeping city from its winter hibernation. The silver dress you wear is far shorter than you're used to, but the denim jacket is big enough to properly cover your ass, which is something at least. In your platform boots, borrowed from your roommate Liz, you're almost tall enough to see over the busy street to Cal Anderson Park up ahead.

'Come on,' Liz says with an excited glint in her eye. 'The club's just on the far side of Boylston.'

You nod distantly, eyes wide as you try to take in all the people around you. After spending the last two years buried in a book in the UW library or at internships or in class it feels startling to realize how much youthful, passionate energy beats at the heart of the city so close to where you've been existing. Not that you never go out, but now that you’re approaching the end of your master’s degree you feel like a diver finally reaching the surface to draw breath. You’re ready to celebrate.

A door opens to your right and music surrounds you. An impassioned man sings about an even flow, accompanied by an aggressive drummer and what you can tell is skilled guitar playing. The people on the sidewalk beside you press in, screaming and cheering and trying to shove their way into a club. A faded sign above announces it as Moe's Bar.

Your roommate's hand finds yours and she pulls you out through an opening in the crowd.

Once you’re free again you laugh and brush your hair behind your ears. Dozens of other clubs and bars and late-night restaurants you pass are the same. Men with mohawks in every color of the rainbow. Women in combat boots with plaid jackets tied at their waists. A group of teenagers skateboard down Broadway, hollering into the night as they fly by, the clack of their wheels muffled by the lingering rain dampening the streets.

Everyone seems taken by the revelry. It would be so easy - to disappear into the thriving mass of people celebrating music and community and being alive. Now, with graduation so close you can finally taste it, you surrender to the sensation. Tilting your head back you look at the round full moon above, peeking out through the clouds, and give a joyful, if tentative, howl.

This makes your roommate turn and squeeze your hand. Liz smiles with pride. 'Now that's the spirit!' she says with a fist pump and howl of her own.

The nightclub is unassuming, especially amongst the neon and metal venues you passed to get here. Two simple brass lamps spotlight the enormous carved wooden doors. Bass thumps from within, the slight rattling of the doors is the only indication that life exists within. Shari’s reads the hanging sign.

Liz practically glows under the lights, a North star leading you into a whole new world.

After so many years of keeping your nose to the grindstone - success gained through effort rather than extraordinary intelligence; advanced classes, extra college courses during the summer, every extracurricular you could pack in before you cracked, a high school diploma by sixteen, bachelors by twenty and MBA by twenty two - you would follow her anywhere as long as it didn't involve studying or a business suit.

She guides you through the heavy wood door into a small entry room. A large man with so many piercings he'd have a terrible time at the security scanners at the airport checks your IDs. It's stayed in your wallet, practically untouched, since the official one came last year on your twenty-first birthday.

Finally inside the club you bite your lip to hide a wide, giddy smile of excitement. Bodies fill the dance floor, joyously swaying to the beat. A DJ booth rises from a far corner like Sauron’s tower in the Lord of the Rings. A man with dark hair that falls in his intense eyes runs the booth; a king commanding his loyal subjects.

Liz finds her group of friends from the mall she works at spread over two successive tables with circular cushioned benches behind them. Their names and faces blur together in the low lighting, but everyone is welcoming, offering you a smile or a shake of a hand. A cheerful blonde-haired man, who you swear says his name is Bacon, takes you and Liz’s coats and purses and adds them to an overflowing pile beside him.

Before you can even think of sitting down Liz guides you onto the dance floor. Normally you’re the one in control. The one with the plan. The group leader or the one who organized the debate team fundraiser/supply closet at work/networking mixer. But it’s… nice, not having to be the center of everything, keeping it together with your effort alone. 

She gives you a teasing smile as if she can read your thoughts and you roll your eyes with a laugh. ‘No overthinking this!’ she commands with a raised brow as you find a good spot.

As if I have any other way of thinking. ‘I promise nothing!’ you shrug and smile at her.

Your movements are slow at first, awkward, and you laugh to yourself with amusement. Self-deprecation has never been your poison. Along with an unshakeable drive to make something of yourself you've always had a healthy sense of self-esteem. Who cares if you aren't the best dancer?

You get into the swing after the second song and shake your ass with delight at the energy in the room and the incredible job the DJ is doing loosening you up. He’s remixing “Semi-Charmed Life” with an older techno hit you don’t recognize.

Before long Jongin, Liz’s crush and co-worker from the KOKO exercise studio, captures her attention and you end up dancing with Baekhyun (tragically not actually named Bacon) and a girl who calls herself Hitchcock. You recognize each other from a seminar last school year at UW and take a long break to catch each other up on your lives over shots at the table. 

She tells you about her dual jobs at Microsoft and the movie theater at the Exodus Mall. You fill her in on your thesis project and she offers to look over your resume as you plan to apply to a similar track at the tech giant after you graduate.

When Liz said she was forcing you from your obsessive, ahem dedicated, studying for your research paper you didn’t know what to expect, but it wasn’t all of this. Reconnecting with a friend. A potential foot in the door at your dream job. Dancing so much that your back gets slick with sweat. Laughing with Liz so hard your stomach aches as Baekhyun attempts to breakdance, nearly falling backwards into no less than four people.

As if the night couldn’t get any better, something else catches your eye. Someone else - the DJ steps down from the booth on a break.

His black pants, white shirt, and tie would be overly formal and out of place in the nightclub, but his pushed-up sleeves reveal muscled forearms. The neon yellow sunglasses and loose piano pattern of the tie he wears make him look sexy, in an off-duty retro businessman kind of way. His face reveals none of his emotions as he slips off his shades, tucking them in his jacket pocket. But the corners of his lips tilt up with amusement as he scans the room.

Clearly he’s impressed with the atmosphere he’s created here tonight. As he should be, you think. You imagine for a moment what it would be like if he noticed you. If this was a meet-cute or the start of something. But his focus is on the bar now, not lingering on you or anyone else in the club. Dating for you was a rocky road and absolutely nothing like the way it looked in the John Hughes movies that were your guilty pleasure growing up.

Between your parents' support and your own innate thirst for success, you always felt like an outsider in terms of relationships. Extroverted and empathetic enough to make and maintain friendships, but boys were tougher. You could never figure out dating to your satisfaction in high school and you left when most of your peers were just finishing up Sophomore year.

In college there was hope. Studious and hardworking men with glasses and a love of Emily Dickinson and black coffee. Law school-bound guys who rowed crew and whose confidence was just on the right side of attractive instead of insufferable. John Cusack types with easy smiles and crates of vinyl they carefully collected, who performed at the Comedy Underground in hopes of ‘being discovered.’

It was both thrilling and irritating. You went after dating with almost as much determination as you did your school and career, set on experiencing everything possible.

But the English major wanted someone in a pastel dress and tights, who volunteered at an animal shelter and didn’t eviscerate him at Scrabble. The future lawyer was looking for his future trophy wife, to stand beside him at fancy dinners and fraternity mixers. And the Lloyd Dobler wannabe needed a muse, a beautiful and ethereal woman to be his object of longing, to laugh at his jokes and pass through life without worry about the future.

Not that you were jealous, or even bitter. Just because you weren’t what they were looking for wasn’t anything personal and you never took it like it was. The women they wanted existed and were wonderful in all their own ways. But it grated at you, how you always felt like a square peg in a round hole. Never being the right fit.

All your life you’d gotten used to knowing, and getting, what you wanted. It was insanely frustrating to not have found anything that stuck. Failure in any form made you frown, but thankfully romantic mishaps always took a backseat to school, friends, and your future, so it was easy to ignore. Until now.

The DJ passes close enough to you and Liz that you can see the echoes of dark circles under his eyes and the rich brown of his hair in the passing neon lights. For some reason that same intuition, that same hunger and drive that had propelled you to awards and scholarships and countless other successes, tells you to follow him. Whatever it is about him, your body and your desire react before your mind and conscious rational thought.

'I'll be back,' you yell to your roommate over the music. She nods and gives you a thumbs up as she's drawn into Jongin’s embrace once more.

Like a missile you weave through the crowd, target in sight. You watch as the DJ leans against the end of the bar, carefully positioning himself so he's at the end with no one behind him. You wonder if it's out of a dislike of people sneaking up on him or if he's a predator, sizing up the crowd.

With a casual hand he orders a drink from the bartender and surveys the crowd coolly. Too high on life to care too much, you take the seat two over from him, carefully avoiding eye contact, feigning nonchalance. ‘Self-possessed,’ that’s how your fifth grade teacher described you. Independent and old beyond your years. It always thrilled you, the praise and respect of adults. You wanted to earn more of it, to be seen as capable and mature.

But something about the man beside you makes you feel younger. Raw and playful in a way you’re not sure you’ve ever been before.

Admiring the cut of his jaw, you imagine kissing it. His hands on the bar are graceful, strong, befitting his profession. You want him and you want him to want you. The thought makes you inhale a deep breath, not even sure what that would mean. Adrenaline and delight fill your mind and you briefly fantasize about him holding you close on the dance floor like Jongin does to Liz. His hands on your hips and his mouth teasing your neck.

The bartender reappears on your side of the bar, his bald head gleaming in the lights of the club, and you snap back into reality. The flames tattooed across his knuckles shine as he slides a drink down the length of the bar, towards the DJ. An impulsive, reckless daring you've only ever felt before at debate tournaments makes you reach out and catch the glass of dark liquid before it can reach its desired recipient.

In one smooth motion you lift it to your lips and turn to meet the DJ's deep brown eyes. With a smirk you raise the glass. In two gulps you down the drink, the bourbon burning its way down your throat, reminding you how good it feels to be free, to be alive. 

To challenge someone who feels like a decent opponent.

He watches you, his eyes flaring with surprise before fading back to indifference. He looks like a tiger in a cage at the zoo, pacing in front of a glass divider. His fingers tap impatiently on the lacquered bartop and he tilts his head, watching as you lick the moisture from your lip, savoring the taste. You wonder if he'd be just as heady and strong on your tongue.

You have the feeling that with the slightest pressure in the right place and the glass would shatter, unleashing the beast within. The thought makes you clench your thighs together, a heat filling you that has nothing to do with the people pressing in on you trying to get the attention of the bartender.

The DJ seems just as self-contained as you are. A voice inside you whispers of unstoppable forces meeting immovable objects and you wonder which of you would cave first.

Before you can say anything, before you can even wipe the satisfied smile off your lips or ask his name or offer to pay for the drink, he drops a bill to the counter and slides off the stool. He pushes into the crowd, disappearing as if he'd never been there. As if he hardly noticed you.

But you didn't miss the interest, the arousal, the animal within him rising to your challenge. He slinks back up to the DJ booth and resumes his position of power, thirst unquenched.

You don't know his name, or anything about him. Aside from the fact that the way he looks at you feels so wrong it's right, and that his hands are the first ones you've ever wanted wrapped around your waist so badly you can feel it beating in your palms.

But you know one thing, as you rejoin your roommate on the dance floor, whatever has started between you and the enigmatic DJ isn't finished.

May 21st, 1997

You straighten your blazer, looking in the mirror to make sure your outfit is perfect. It’s not your first interview this week and it certainly won’t be the last, but it is the one you’re the most curious about.

The position as a receptionist and accountant for an electronics repair store isn’t exactly how you pictured your first job after getting your MBA, but the pay and the opportunity to work alongside the enigmatic tech genius Kim Jongdae is a chance you can’t pass up.

All that’s left is the graduation ceremony in June and then you’re free. Your final exams are done, your thesis is defended, and you’ve completed a thorough and perhaps slightly obsessive spreadsheet documenting all your connections who might have an in at your most desired companies. Now knee-deep in the process of interviewing for jobs it strikes you all of a sudden that this is what you’ve been working for… almost all your life.

The lighting in the bathroom of the mall is stark and a moment of uncertainty makes your knees weak.

Since your test results in elementary school came back top of the class it’s been the same refrain. Get good grades. Impress your teachers. Study and diversify your interests and push harder every year and eventually it will all pay off, right? You’re damn proud of what you’ve done, but now, here in the after, all you can think as you watch your own reflection is - now what?

Frowning, you wonder how many other applicants there are for this job. Anyone in the tech circle in Seattle knows about Jongdae. Rumors abound that he was set to be the next Bill Gates when an investment deal went south. Or that he was kicked out of Harvard for embarrassing his professors with his superior smarts. Someone in your Econ seminar once told you she’d heard that he was contracted by the NSA to spy on foreign hackers.

Whatever his history, he currently runs a computer and electronics repair store in a very unassuming mall in Capitol Hill. You want to stand out, and what better way to do so than the track down the mystery of Kim Jongdae, the prodigy turned hermit. You infuse your veins with confidence, knowing you can handle anything thrown at you. Or so you think.

The mall is quiet and peaceful in the mid-morning on a Wednesday. A couple of tables in the food court are filled with older men and women playing cards and board games. A group of moms walks past you talking about a storytime at the bookstore in the mall.

The slow and steady hum of activity in here is a far cry from where you thought you’d be working. Professors encouraged you to head to IBM or Oracle. With your skills, business sense, and intuitive ability to pick up each new trend in technology they told you that you would have your choice of opportunities.

But while you’re no stranger to hard work and a competitive work environment, the idea of clawing your way to the top of yet another group of high achievers just sounds… awful.

You long to travel, to finally see some of the exotic and culturally rich places you’ve stuck photos of to your fridge. You want to be able to actually go out on the weekends and see your friends. Whatever your future holds you want to finally enjoy your life outside of school and work, even if it’s only for a year.

You could always recognize the friends who were interning at Amazon because they looked like they’d come off a week of no sleep. Many of your fellow MBA graduates were flocking there, as the company finally went public earlier this month. But something just felt - off to you. Like a canary in a coal mine.

Purpose, fulfillment, financial security, and a challenging work environment? Yes.

Burnout, no free time, and living and breathing for ‘the company’? No, thank you.

At the salary Jongdae had advertised you could easily continue to afford the apartment you shared with your two roommates and work on paying off the remaining student loans your scholarships hadn’t covered. And you could hide away a small amount of your check every month for the trip to Amsterdam you’ve been planning for years.

The gentle music in the wide, bright lobby of the mall makes you sigh in relief. This job is a win-win and you’re more determined than ever to get it.

You finally see the shop. If you weren’t looking for it, you’d have missed it between the black and neon purple exterior of KMS Music and the narrow security office tucked behind the lively pizza restaurant. There’s a line winding its way in front of the music store and you assume it’s for an album release. Until you realize that the line is leading straight where you’re going and stop in your tracks.

Chen's Electronics. The mall is full of colors and bright shop fronts. But this is almost bleak in comparison, as though it's resisted the outright displays of joy and liveliness that seem to be at the heart of the mall. The sign is red neon against a black and steel facade. A simple poster hangs in one of the two wide windows that frame the door.

We do: - Hard Drive Repair - Internet Connectivity Issues - Computer virus protection - Turntables, record players, and other portable home audio systems - Radios - POS/credit card system repair (For stores in the Exodus Mall only)

We do not: - Sell computers or computer parts. Don't ask.

You raise a brow at the last note. The harsh exterior of the store and the brusque tone definitely match with what you've heard of Chen's Electronics - that the man who runs it is a computer genius, but that his bedside manner leaves much to be desired. Perhaps that's why the job posting emphasized 'superior customer service skills.'

The line you join grows, others coming in behind you, and you wonder if Jongdae told everyone the same 10am time frame or if he staggered interviews throughout the day. As you wait the line slowly dwindles. A woman leaves crying a few minutes later, and you watch her go with surprise and attempt to peek into the store. You’re still too far back to see in, so you’re left to wait and wonder.

Finally you’re next, waiting just outside the store. A printed piece of paper is taped to the door. CLOSED FOR INTERVIEWS it says in big, bolded letters.

The tall man who was ahead of you in line isn’t visible at either of the two work stations set up inside the shop. There must be a back room of some kind. You take the moment to check out the space. The store is organized chaos. Rows of shelves line each of the two walls, full of equipment - computers in various states of disassembly, old transistor radios, a VHS player, a few turntables, and endless coiled stacks of cords interspersed.

The walls above them and the two walls behind the work stations, on either side of the hallway leading to the back, are blank. No advertisements or personalized touches to make the business seem welcoming. Just bland, empty beige walls. One desk has only a computer, keyboard, and mouse. The other is full of parts and tools that extend over the desk to not one, but two shelving units behind it. Like Jongdae was in the middle of a project and the interviews are a rude interruption.

A muffled angry shout comes from the back, behind the gray curtain hung up over the entrance to the rear of the store. The tall man moves it aside with a sneer as he charges across the floor. With a voice practically a growl he shoves open the door and you jolt back to avoid being hit.

He looks you up and down and shakes his head. ‘Good luck. You’ll need it.’

After a last straightening of your jacket you swallow and push through the door. It's quiet inside, almost reverent, as the door closes behind you. The fluorescent lighting overhead isn't the most welcoming and the tan carpet is terribly dated. No one comes to meet you. The man on the other side must be waiting, like a dragon in his lair.

Your hand closes over the strap of your purse and you hesitate at the curtain, not wanting to move forward without being invited. 'Hello?'

Footsteps come down the short hallway and a hand appears, moving the curtain out of the way to reveal a man. Your jaw almost drops. Oh, shit. It's not at all who you were expecting the famed Jongdae to be - a studious man with glasses and a bad tie.

No, this man is handsome in an aggressive way. His black hair is styled back in a neat wave. His high cheekbones and strong brows hold no humor or friendliness. Only the catlike upturn of his lips stands in rebellious contrast to his unwelcoming face.

This isn't the first time you've seen this face either, you realize, and it's like being run over by a train. He seems to connect the dots at the same moment and his eyes widen, eyebrows raising. It’s the DJ from the bar. The drink. The - oh, god.

He presses his mouth together, smothering his surprise and sitting down harshly in the chair at the crowded desk in the main room. 'What are you doing here?' He keeps his voice tightly contained, not minding in the least that the other potential job candidates are surely watching you both right now.

You give yourself a small shake and remember you're not here to hit on him. You're here for a job. 'I have an interview.'

Best case is ignoring the whole thing. It didn’t happen. Not here in the light of day. His poker face might be good, but yours is better. You keep your breathing even and hope that the racing of your heart isn’t making your cheeks red.

He tilts his head to the side, pressing his lips together in amusement. ‘Alright then.’ Turning to the side he stands and holds the curtain open, allowing you to pass by him into the small office behind.

Holding his focus, you pull out the chair in front of the desk and sit down. You place the resume and references on the table between you and fold your hands on your lap, waiting.

Jongdae takes his place opposite you as he slides the papers across the desk. His eyes dart faster than you can imagine anyone reading. He doesn’t seem flustered, but the tips of his ears are just slightly pink, his nose flaring a bit too much, and you realize he’s just as caught off guard as you are.

Finally, he finishes. 'I… don't think this is going to work.' He looks up, his hand resting on your paperwork on the desk. His face gives away nothing, but his eyes are wild and full of emotion you can’t decipher.

'Why is that?' You keep your voice steady, determined. He’s not going to dismiss you so quickly. Realizing the DJ and the tech wunderkind are one in the same has only heightened your desire to show him you’re the best person for the job.

Jongdae stares at you. This time, there's heat in his expression. You feel his eyes move over you, not taking in the professional attire, but clearly remembering the dress you wore from the club instead. 'I think you know why,' he says under his breath.

Clearing your throat you lean forward, drawn to him by some force you can't define. Like something is shoving you towards this job. 'I don't know what you mean. The posting was for an office manager and bookkeeper. I'm qualified in both and I have plenty of experience. Are you really going to decide I’m not a good fit without even asking me a single question?'

He groans and runs a hand through his hair, his composure faltering for an instant. 'Why do you want this position? You know nothing about me.'

He states it like a fact, not an opening for discussion, but you jump on it anyway. 'I know plenty.'

Satisfaction blooms in your chest when he narrows his eyes, raising a brow. 'I do my research, Mr. Kim. I’m top of my class at UW and I didn’t get there by accident. With such a small team I could get a far broader experience than I could being just another cog in the machine at Microsoft. I might not know you personally, but your reputation precedes you. I plan to excel in the tech industry. And to do that, I need to work with the best. Simple as that.'

'And I'm the best?' He leans back in his chair. Resting his elbow on the armrest, he drags a finger across his lips in appraisal.

His quick responses remind you of the competitive tennis you played growing up. The way it felt to thrive when paired with an equal opponent, someone who could match your speed and precision. Someone who gave as good as they got. How it made you better, sharpened your skills and reflexes up against someone who you couldn’t easily defeat.

'Are you trying to tell me you're not?' You cross your arms and look around, feigning surprise and curiosity. 'If you tell me who is, I'll happily go apply to be their office manager.'

He almost laughs in amusement. You can feel it. But he covers it as a cough instead and tilts his head to the side, sizing you up. 'And you know what this job entails?'

You repeat it easily from memory. 'Being the face of the business. Greeting walk-in customers. Helping them figure out if what they need is something we do. Conferring with you about pricing. Scheduling service appointments over the phone. Processing payments. Ordering supplies. Occasional advertising assistance. Other assorted duties as needed.'

'That about sums it up.'

In the charged silence you hear the muffled noises of the mall - children squealing with delight, orders being called out at the pizza restaurant next door, people talking - but it's all separated. You wonder if the distance is intentional. Many stores have roll up gates or at least have their doors propped open to draw in customers. But not Jongdae. It’s almost as though he’s actively trying to keep visitors out.

You favor boldness and decide to push him, what have you got to lose? 'So, when do I start?' Leaning forward, you give him a relaxed smile. ‘Unless you’d like to terrorize a few more applicants before you choose me? I’m happy to wait, Mr. Kim. But you can’t scare me away. And you don’t intimidate me.’

With equal decisiveness he cracks a lopsided grin and shakes his head, with both amusement and resignation. 'How's now for you?'

You give a passing thought to the other jobs, the ones you’d already interviewed for and the ones on your schedule over the coming days. They all go up in a whiff of smoke as you extend your hand across the table to shake Jongdae’s hand.

‘Now is perfect.’ His palm is warm against yours and you do your best not to react to the contact, but you can’t help the soft sigh that escapes you.

Jongdae withdraws his hand quickly, and you note with pleasure that he seems a bit shaken as he stands. ‘I’ll be right back. You can leave your things here.’ He motions to the coat hooks on the wall by the door and the tall, thin bookshelf with a few cubby slots.

Aside from a black scarf and a few extra office supplies on two of the shelves the rest of the space is empty. You wonder what he isn't saying. 'What made you want help, all of a sudden?’ He pauses and turns back to you. ‘From what I can tell you've been in business for a few years. Why now?'

He sighs. 'I'm too busy to keep doing this by myself.'

'Ah. And you hate that, don't you?'

The ghost of a smile graces his lips. 'Yes.'

Jongdae disappears through the curtain. You follow him after putting your coat on a hook and your purse in one of the spotless cubbies. The rest of the space contains a few filing cabinets, stacks of boxes, and a small safe resting on a narrow table.

When you appear back into the hallway you see a door to the left that must lead out the back. And on the opposite side is an archway with a kitchen sink, a microwave, a small fridge, and a few cupboards inside, along with a small circular table. The table has only one chair. You smile to yourself. Clearly he's accustomed to doing everything by himself.

When you emerge the other applicants are dispersing as he peels the taped sign off the door, balling it up in his hands.

Jongdae gets you set up on the computer at the other desk. It’s a relatively simple customer management software and payment system, both of which you pick up in no time. He runs you through the pricing list, pulling a laminated form from the top drawer. His filing system for customer accounts is simple and alphabetized.

Neither of you speak about that night again, but oh, do you feel it - the electricity between you when he stands too close or you meet his eyes.

Until lunch he alternates between training you and assisting customers who come in every so often. It's all straightforward, nothing you haven't managed before, and by the afternoon you're already scheduling appointments in the large old-school appointment book he keeps open to the current week.

Despite the passion and intensity in the music he plays, he keeps an even keel throughout his day job. It's almost as if you went to sleep last night and somehow woke up as someone who's worked here for years. Before closing at 5:30 he remembers other things and hands you a packet on the way out. Tax forms, an employment agreement listing the salary and benefits, and a non-disclosure form. Most of it is standard, but you wonder what kind of secrets he needs to protect at an electronics store.

You gather your things and wait outside while he closes down the shop, turning off the lights as he goes. It’s still quite sunny outside and with a shock you realize that there’s nothing waiting for you, now that the work day is done. No papers to write or projects to finish or internship to head to. The idea makes you feel unexpectedly buoyant, and when Jongdae steps out to lock the doors you give him an easy smile.

He returns it, giving you a small one of his own in response. ‘So, I normally take Tuesdays off and keep the shop closed. Wednesdays are normally pretty slow. How does Thursday through Monday sound to you? I know today is Wednesday, so if you wanted to take tomorrow off instead that’s fine with me.’

‘I’m happy to come in tomorrow.’ You want to wince at the eagerness in your voice, but instead you stand firm, holding your purse in front of you with both hands.

Jongdae slides his hands into the pockets of his jacket and nods, looking at you for a long moment before speaking. ‘Sounds great, I’ll see you then.’

You nod at him too, turning back towards the department store to head out to your car. After a beat you look behind you and see he’s still watching. His gaze is unfocused on the floor before he shakes his head, seeming to come back to himself. He heads the opposite direction, towards the movie theater. In a few seconds he’s disappeared behind the pizza place, out of sight.

Jongdae takes the longer route home today. His apartment overlooking Lake Union is the one he grew up in, his grandfather’s place. When he passed away a year ago he left it to Jongdae and it never occurred to him to move. He walks along the water, breathing in the early summer air, wanting to laugh at himself. How long has it been since he let himself be impulsive? To act on instinct. To want something.

He’d settled into a routine these past few years, since everything changed after graduation. Working at the store. Reading. Playing Go and chess with his grandfather and the other older men that lived in the building. They’d go fishing out on the peninsula or to the local symphonies that his grandfather loved. Routine had saved him when his world fell apart once, but now, with his grandfather’s absence, he’s not sure how to pick up the pieces anymore.

The seagulls on the pier are loud today, hungrily gobbling up the bread and Ivar’s french fries tossed to them by the kids gathered around. They giggle and laugh, running to their parents for more offerings. Jongdae frowns for a moment, the sadness that he doesn’t often acknowledge creeping into his heart.

His parents were gone before he really even had a chance to know them. His father to lung cancer, from the awful smoking habit he picked up in the Navy. His mother moved back to Korea to be with her family, unable to cope being in the city without her husband. Jongdae didn’t blame her, but the distance grew and they drifted apart as he became an adult himself.

Jongdae’s father’s father settled here after World War Two, along with a few of his friends. From what he remembers there wasn’t a discussion about it after the funeral - if he’d stay or go back to Korea with his mother. One day when he was young he knew his father had passed. His mother left. And with two duffle bags slung over his shoulders and little Jongdae in his arms his grandfather had moved him into the apartment with the pretty view of the water. 

And that’s the way it was, ever since.

In school his friends might have joked that Jongdae was an old man himself. Doing the New York Times crossword puzzle on Sundays, getting his hair cut at the same hole-in-the-wall barber shop in Chinatown as his grandfather, and hanging out with more octogenarians than people his own age. But he loved his grandfather and the two of them were so close that he never stopped to question whether he should change to fit in with the rest of his classmates.

The only aberration came when he started DJ-ing at eighteen. The crowd he fell in with and the partying he did was short lived; they crashed and burned, went up in flames. Everything else faded as quickly as it had come, but the club scene was his escape and it stayed with him.

These days it feels like the only time he recognizes himself, now that his grandfather is gone, too. Until you walked into his store today, that is. You looked him dead in the eyes, unafraid. Just like the night all those weeks ago in the club when you came up to him, flirted with him and challenged him.

He doesn’t know how to move on with his life.

He doesn’t know what’s next.

But wanting you, inviting you into his life, is going to change everything. He knows it in his bones and for once change excites him, instead of frightens him.

June 18th, 1997

For an achingly slow two hours on Thursday the only sounds in the shop are your typing and Jongdae’s tools hitting the metallic insides of the radio he’s fixing. You should be processing yesterday's supply orders. Or cleaning up the books to get everything ready for the days' billing before you make a run to the bank.

But instead you watch in your periphery the way the muscle in Jongdae’s jaw moves when he's focusing. How his brows pull together and his lower lip sticks out slightly, making him look as though he's perpetually pouting. You wonder if you would have gotten along with him in school. If he was always so... uptight. Or if he was freer, looser. Not that you’re the picture of ease yourself, but he seems to almost vibrate with tension.

You watch as he turns back to the computer, his fingers fly across the keyboard and you admire the absolute focus he shows toward the screen in front of him. The past few days he’s handled repairs and projects for businessmen and women, families, and two gentlemen in suits that screamed ‘government’ to you. He could be repairing a nuclear warhead in front of you and you imagine his expression would remain the same.

His standard white button-up shirt bunches around his biceps while he works. A mischievous part of you wonders what it would take to make his robotic exterior crack again. What it would take for him to show joy or anger or arousal. Emotion from him is a precious, rare thing and you want to grab them when they do show, holding them tightly as proof they exist.

You jolt, realizing the unintended destination your thoughts have arrived at. Arousal. Where did that come from? With a cough and a shake of your head you refocus on the financial statements in front of you.

If you hadn't seen him that night at the club you'd have wondered if he ever enjoyed himself. He wasn't smiling that night, but the music and the dancing and the palpable energy seemed to soften the hard lines of his face. You want to see more of that Jongdae, the one that feels so much closer to who he really is, underneath it all.

However he started in this business, in the tech scene, he works away at it as though it's his sole purpose in life. He's clearly talented enough to fix anything, code anything. You’d asked him last week how he knows what to do, as you looked into a complicated mess of wires sticking out of a broken CPU as though it were gibberish.

All he’d said, in a gruff voice, was that his grandfather liked to tinker and take things apart before putting them back together, to see how they worked, and that he’d picked up the habit.

'Why do you work by yourself?' The sound of your voice is much louder than intended, breaking the hush in the store. You want to swallow the words, unsure why you didn't stop them from escaping. Instead you bite the skin on the inside of your cheek and watch as he lifts his head to look at you.

Jongdae raises a brow. 'As opposed to?'

You stop typing and lean back in your chair. 'You could have worked for anyone, I bet. After you graduated college. I’ve heard a few of the rumors about you. It sounds like you could have done anything you wanted. What made you want to start your own business?'

He mirrors your pose. 'What makes you think I went to college?'

You blink. For so long your parents' idea of a prosperous life - good grades, extracurriculars, graduate from a top college, get a lucrative, secure job - had been so ingrained that it surprises you to imagine that someone like him didn't go to school. 'You didn't?'

He smiles, the dimple appearing briefly in his cheek. 'Alright, fine. Yes, I did. I went to M.I.T. and I, uhm, graduated at seventeen.'

'Seventeen?' The competitive drive that buried itself in your bones early on wants to prove itself to him, awed by the size of his intellect.

'With my PhD.' He winces. Just for a moment, but you catch it.

'Oh,' you say with a stunned laugh.

He goes back to work with a quick shake of his head and a sigh. 'Yeah, that right there is why I don't tell people.'

You’re surprised by his assumption that you’d view it as a bad or repulsive fact. 'It's amazing. You should be proud of it. Why would you want to keep that a secret?'

His lip pouts again and irrationally you think about what it would be like to kiss him. 'Because now you'll look at me differently. Like I'm some kind of freak of nature.'

'I don't think it makes you a freak.' Your answer is immediate and emphatic.

'Oh really?' He gives you a side-glance, keeping his tone neutral.

'No, it makes you a genius. And intelligence is never a bad thing. Quite the opposite, in fact.' It does nothing to help the attraction you feel for him. Rather than dousing the flames, it pours gasoline on them.

'Tell that to -' he stops himself, pressing his lips together. The bitterness in his voice makes you jerk back in your seat. ‘Nevermind. It was a long time ago. Forget I said anything.’

But you can fill in the gaps, no stranger to the judgement of others. 'Clearly you need better friends.'

He blinks, vulnerability filling his eyes. 'Like you?' His expression softens and he gives you a half-smile.

You blush, realizing what it must look like that you’re so passionate about defending him. 'Sorry, I didn't - all I mean is that it’s attractive.’ You curse yourself and cough delicately, trying to appear impartial. ‘An attractive quality. I just got my master’s and I thought I was advanced for my age. So I just meant to say… I get it. And you’re not a freak.’

The moment stretches out between you, the air in the space seeming to pause. The muted, reverent silence fills the distance once more. But this time it’s charged, tense. Waiting. He breathes in deeply, the shirt he wears stretching across his chest and yet again you long to touch him. For a beat his gaze drops to your lips and he swallows, opening his mouth to speak.

But he’s interrupted by the door opening. The ding of the motion sensor makes you both jolt, turning to see who it is. An older woman comes in carrying a heavy looking bag. She coughs and leans against the door to rest.

Jongdae bolts up from his desk, clearing his throat. 'Here, let me help with that.'

He bows to her with a warm smile, holding his hands out to take the bag. She nods and Jongdae slings the bag over his shoulder, wincing when it collides with his back. With a gentle arm around her back he helps her into the chair opposite his desk.

'Thank you, young man,' the woman says with a smile.

'Not at all,' Jongdae says, resuming his post on the stool. 'How can I help you today?'

You're certain your mouth has fallen open. To difficult customers he's brief, almost condescending, and for the nice ones he’s reserved and polite, but nothing like this. For over an hour he patiently connects the woman's computer to his power strip and walks her through how to use it. 

Again and again he shows her the links and how to work the web browser. Installs a complimentary virus protection program. Makes sure she can find the Solitaire application she loves. And only charges her $20.

But after she leaves the next customer is a businessman dressed in what looks to be a very expensive suit. Jongdae spends the laughably short visit practically sneering at the man. And he charges him at least twice what it says on the pricing list he gave you.

As soon as the door closes you release the laugh you’ve been holding in. 'You know, for someone who runs a business, you seem hell bent on driving some of your customers away.'

He shakes his head, hair falling in his eyes. 'He was a moron. You don't buy the Rolls Royce of computers if you don't know how to drive it.'

'So the only exception here is kind old ladies?'

Jongdae barks out a laugh, meeting your gaze and looking younger than you’ve ever seen him. 'Exactly.'

June 28th, 1997

Moments after you walk out the door for lunch during a bustling Saturday it pings again, announcing yet another customer. This one is probably his scheduled twelve o’clock appointment, Jongade thinks as he looks distractedly at his watch.

He turns to greet them and his entire body recoils. 'What do you want?' Jongdae practically hisses, but he keeps his tone even with all his might.

Since you’ve taken over scheduling Jongdae hardly looks at his calendar anymore. If he’d known Julian Danforth was seeking his help he would have told him to fuck off. Unfortunately Jongdae’s hesitation in talking about his past means you could have no possible idea how much the man standing before him used to matter.

Julian strolls in with a computer in his arms and a smugness on his mouth that Jongdae wants to punch off. His sunglasses are perched on the top of his head and his khaki shorts have neatly pressed lines, clearly not done by the man himself, who drips with privilege.

He'd thought these feelings were long buried, but they roar in Jongdae’s chest. The friendships and the future he almost had are now scattered behind him like a trail of carnage, all the fault of this man. The burn of sadness and embarrassment that fills Jongdae’s stomach was supposed to be gone, relinquished to ashes. But seeing one of his former best friends again Jongdae feels like he's ten years old, stuck in a class with far older students. Young, inexperienced, an outcast.

‘Good afternoon to you as well, old friend.’ Ignoring the daggers Jongdae is staring at him, Julian steps forward, setting the computer down on the desk. 'Like I told the woman on the phone I'm having a problem with some computer virus.'

He says it like it’s a slimy, living thing that had crawled into his machine. Displeasure colors his expression; annoyed at the mere thought that his money and status don’t render him immune from such commonplace problems. ‘You know I don’t trust anyone else with my system.’

After what you did I should smash your computer open. Jongdae doesn't speak as plugs the machine into the power strip he rigged to his desk, not willing to risk what he’ll say.

It's a far more expensive model of computer than most of his clients bring in. Those who purchase such a high end version fall into two camps - enthusiasts like himself who know what they're getting, or the rich and famous who buy them as status symbols and have no clue how to work them. Julian, unfortunately, falls into the latter category.

The computer starts up and Jongdae’s mind goes into work mode, tuning out Julian. The virus has rendered it unusable, only a blur of symbols and lines of code flit across the screen. None of the normal exit keys brings up the desktop. Jongdae purses his lips and slides in the floppy disk he keeps beside his own monitor, an anti-virus he designed.

He leans into muscle memory as he runs through the start up and sets the program to do its job. With any luck the idiot just found some simple malware from some incredibly obvious email spam or downloaded a bug on a porn site. In all social and business sense Julian is a shark; he'd never have fallen for such an obvious scam in real life. But when it came to computers and technology he was hopeless, and thus Jongdae had come into his life years ago.

'How long have you been set up here?' Julian asks with a dismissive glance at the machines and equipment stacked on the shelves.

'Why do you care?' The question comes out harsher than he intends, but the emotion isn't entirely unearned.

Once upon a time he and Julian met in Seattle, after Jongdae was fresh out of M.I.T. and Julian had flunked out of yet another University. They were determined to build a business together. If he had more energy Jongdae would wear this store and his reputation proudly, built from no family connections or money, just his own intelligence and drive. After how thoroughly Julian severed Jongdae’s life he should rub his success in Julian’s face with pride.

Instead he ignores him, determined to move on.

The program finishes its run in rapid time, as though it knows how quickly Jongdae wants this moment to end. The virus dissipates and the desktop loads like normal. He's tempted for a second to indulge his curiosity to see what Julian has been up to. Last he knew Julian had gone to work at his father’s investment bank, dreams of standing on his own cowed by the reality of the world outside of his comfortable bubble. Without Jongdae there’s no way the business and the program held up to scrutiny. 

For a second Jongdae stares at the screen, remembering how good it had felt to have found his people. Tech nerds, hungry to build something that would change the world. Julian, who wanted to cast off his father’s legacy and strike out on his own. Julian’s girlfriend Marissa and her soft heart, who wanted to help people. Their friend Albert, with the plan. 

Once he knew them so well he hardly knew where he ended and they began. But now, all these years later, they’re strangers.

Jongdae looks up and watches Julian as he absently admires the collection of turntables on the wall behind the desk. He knows Julian well enough to know this might be an act of contrition, his way of bridging the gap he created to reach out the olive branch of friendship once more. But Jongdae’s curiosity already killed the cat once, spectacularly, and he has no desire to repeat the mistake.

He unplugs the machine and watches the screen go dark, shoving it with both hands across the polished wood surface towards Julian. 'There. It's fixed.'

For customers who are far more polite and far less acquainted with Jongdae he might have explained what caused the virus or recommended an anti-virus software or even shared best practices to avoid getting one in the future. But, for Julian, he'll do what he was hired for and nothing more.

Julian stands and clears his throat uncomfortably. 'How much do I owe you?' A hint of guilt as he pulls out his wallet.

The motion reminds Jongdae of vacations to Marissa's family home in the San Juans or partying with Julian, Albert, and the rest of them in Capitol Hill. When they turned on him it was like the sun went out. He managed to take his pride and his love of music and DJing and escape. Once Jongae rebuilt his life the doors to the past firmly closed.

Anger finally peeks through as he waves a dismissive arm at Julian. 'I don't want your money. Not spending a second longer in your company will be all the payment I need.' He stands as well. Their business today is done and he lets his memories of the past fall before him like ashes.

An awkward beat passes between them and finally Julian breaks eye contact. With a nod to the ground he pushes out the door and disappears, carrying his computer.

He breathes out a sigh of relief, folds his arms, annoyed at how his position and his continued presence here in Seattle occasionally brings him into contact with people like Julian. He should have moved, he thinks. Gone to Singapore or Berlin or London or New York. But for some reason, he stayed.

Through the front window he watches you laugh with your friends in the food court and smiles to himself, thinking of how you call him Scrooge. It should unnerve him, how quickly seeing you or speaking to you or simply thinking you makes his day better, more hopeful; chases away the shadows that linger in his mind when he's left alone for too long. No, left alone isn't the right word. When he isolates himself.

Jongdae doesn’t really know you, not yet. But already he wants to make all of your dreams come true, he wants to make them real. 

The thought is so sentimental and kind and soft that it brings him up short. He bites the inside of his lip and tries to fight the warm feeling in his chest as he watches you laugh. But as he resumes his work he acknowledges that maybe there was a reason he stayed in Seattle, after all.

The mall is packed during lunch; it’s one of the only days you and your roommates and Hitchcock all work together so you’ve christened it Saturday girl’s lunch time. But Baekhyun and Chanyeol of course crash in, as they always seem to. Loud and raucous and happy. Others from their wide circle of friends drop by to grab slices or to make plans for tonight.

Baekhyun sticks two straws in his nose and makes what are probably very scientifically inaccurate walrus noises. As you laugh so hard you almost snort you can’t help but feel like something is missing. Someone is missing. You look back to the shop, drawn to Jongdae as always.

He works away, resuming his repairs after chasing another customer away with his attitude. You sigh, watching the blonde preppy man carry away his enormous computer, muttering to himself. You rest your foot on the edge of your chair and drop your chin to your knee. From this angle, surrounded by the stark design of the store and the fluorescent lights from above, Jongdae looks like he’s trapped inside of a screen himself.

You bite your lip, debating. He’s made it clear that whatever happened between you at the club isn’t something he will discuss, or repeat. But friendship? Community? You work together five days a week and it wouldn’t kill him to get out of his enclosure once in a while. It’s done you good this month, to be out and about with people. Like you can finally breathe for the first time in a long time. And you decide that it’s high time Jongdae do the same.

Liz and Jane, your roommates, call you ‘determined.’ But they say it in a way that clearly means ‘like a homing missile,’ when you want something. Your nature has served you well; you can cut through the bullshit and figure people out almost instantly. It’s helped you both professionally and personally. Allowed you to know immediately which friendships would last, which ones were worth the effort.

Maybe it’s how Jongdae looks like an island, all alone in the shop. Maybe it’s the large Coke that infused you with far too much caffeine. Maybe it’s your insatiable curiosity. But you can’t keep watching him from afar, not when there’s something you can do about it.

‘I’ll be right back.’ Pulling on your denim jacket, you march over to the store. You lean inside the glass door, holding it open with your shoulder. ‘Hey, you.’

Jongdae looks up at you, confusion tugging his brows together, making him befuddled in the cutest way. You tell yourself to stop thinking of him like that, even if you want to.

He blinks and refocuses on you. ‘Back already?’

‘No, but we’ve got more than enough pizza. Why don’t you join us?’ You grin, making a show of looking around the empty office. ‘It’s finally slowed down, and you deserve a break.’

‘I’m on a deadline with this.’ He gestures to the modem that is scattered around him.

You fold your arms and lean against the door. ‘You can fix that in twenty minutes. I know you.’ He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. ‘And before you throw another excuse you should know I’m very persuasive when I want to be. I don’t think you have another option.’

Jongdae barks out a laugh, dropping the tools in his hand to the desk with a thud. ‘Determined to drag me from my lair, huh?’ He holds your gaze, his expression filling with something akin to heat. Finally he gives you a rueful smile. ‘You’re not going to give up on this, are you?’

You meet his eyes and raise a brow, smiling with satisfaction. ‘Nope. Absolutely not.’

The certainty on his face turns into sadness, so fast you can’t be sure it was really there. Then he closes off and he’s quiet, more so than normal. ‘It doesn’t come easily to me.’

Wondering what could have changed so quickly you step forward, letting the door close behind you. ‘What, pizza?’

It shakes you how desperately you want to know. To peel back his skull and see inside his brain, just to understand what makes him tick. His history and where his future is headed. That small voice inside you whispers that once you figure it out, it still won’t make you care less about him.

‘Friends.’ He says it on a gasp. Looking at the floor fixedly, avoiding your eyes, he seems haunted.

The silence surrounds you both and he finally meets your focus again, chewing on the inside of his cheek. The pieces start to come together. He’s intelligent, preternaturally so, and so advanced in school you can’t imagine he’s had much experience with people his own age. And now that he’s in his mid-twenties he’s built himself a fortress. Close enough to the rest of the world, but distinctly separate.

Irrationally you want to reach across the space and wrap his hands in yours. Tug him into your growing group of friends and fix the ache in your chest his expression gives you. Not sympathy and certainly not pity, but some sensation that’s like butterflies in your stomach. But- he’s your boss. You’re not his keeper and you don’t think whatever dangerous emotion lives in you is what would help him.

He’s not yours and you don’t have the right to push, much that you want to.

‘Ah,’ you say. ‘I see. Well, more often than not we have Saturday pizza out there. The offer always stands. I’ll leave you be if you want to be alone, but just -’ you swallow and give him a tentative smile. ‘Just know that we’d be happy to have you join us. I’d be. Uhm. Happy if you joined us.’ It comes out in a rush and you groan.

With a shake of your head, an uncharacteristic gesture of uncertainty and embarrassment, you wave at him and push back out the door into the noise of the mall.

It’s a shame you don’t turn back. Or no, he thinks, it’s better this way. Jongdae feels far too much for you to keep it contained behind his normally stony expression.

You seem like the kind of person who would take that moment of openness and pull on it, until he unravels in front of you. Fear tells him you would take everything and when you're gone he'd be even more alone than before, now that he knows what it's like with you here.

Looking out through the glass he watches you rejoin the lively group. Always he’s felt like a science experiment, or some kind of circus exhibit when he was growing up. If he didn’t have his grandfather’s steady support and gentle guidance he surely would have become even more isolated.

With a shake of his head, he attempts to refocus on the project at hand. For some reason it doesn't fill him up like he wants it to, his usual joy and satisfaction is missing when he picks up the screwdriver once more. This is where he thrives. Computers and the internet and coding.

To other people it's a labyrinth, impossible to figure out. A world and a language they can speak and learn with effort and intention and study. But to him it's always been as easy as breathing.

His grandfather took his skills from the military and parlayed them into a business as a prolific handyman. It was the world they shared. A place where Jongdae’s creativity and his intelligence could soar. Anything he wanted to build or make, he could. Coding a rudimentary game to pass the time after school, when he could hear the neighborhood kids playing soccer outside.

It took him many wonderful places that he wouldn't have been able to reach if he was, for lack of a better word, normal. As a child and even in school it was so easy to hide behind his grades and his projects and the pride and hope of the adults around him. But now, at twenty five, there’s nothing to keep him hidden anymore.

When lunch is over you return and join him with a nod. He hopes you don't regret asking. He nearly hopes you'll try again. Maybe next Saturday.

For how confident he feels in some spaces - DJing at Shari's, here in his ‘lair’ - at the thought of joining a group of friends he feels again like a nervous thirteen year old sitting in his first college course. Like everyone around him knew how to do things he couldn’t comprehend.

He keeps his thoughts and his feelings to himself; he’s already shared more than he planned. But you draw him back into conversation easily enough, asking about the afternoons orders to be picked up. You don't shy away from him or give him an angry offended air. Inexplicably you still look at him warmly, openly, and he wants more than he's dared to let himself want in a very, very long time.

July 11th, 1997

He doesn't normally leave the office at lunch, preferring to eat his meals in his back office alone, but today Jongdae braves the food court.

It’s a Friday not a Saturday, but it’s a start. He makes brief, yet friendly, conversation with Chanyeol at the pizza place. The taller man smiles at Jongdae, easily, as though he doesn’t second guess the action. He asks if Jongdae had caught the Mariner's game over the weekend and they talk about how Griffey might finally lead Seattle to a World Series this year.

For once he doesn't feel like going back to the office and burying his head in his work. Jongdae awkwardly pulls out a chair in the cluster of tables between the bookstore and the record store. As he takes a bite of his pizza he hears a familiar laugh. Turning around he sees you through the glass of the bookstore.

You speak to the woman who owns Greyhame Books, standing beside someone he thinks is possibly called Jane. It all seems so… easy for you. Tucking your hair behind your ear you lean against the counter, discussing the stack of books in front of you with your friends.

Jongdae gives a rare laugh to no one but himself.

When he imagined hiring an accountant and administrator for his flourishing business he thought he'd get someone older. A person with experience and a similar level of wanting to be left alone. They could ignore him and he could ignore them, delegating filing and payments and customer questions and not have to think about them again.

An employee was supposed to reclaim the silence and peace that his work used to bring. Technology is so much simpler and predictable than humans and he’d really prefer to cut other people out of the equation entirely.

But you are the opposite of simple, and you absolutely aren’t someone he can ignore. From the moment he recognized you he knew he had to hire you. With your intensity and your impressive resume and the way your mouth pulls to the side when you’re trying not to smirk.

He doesn't regret it. But he feels raw in a way he hasn't allowed himself to in years. Jongdae doesn't let people get close. Not anymore.

'Hey, Jongdae!'

With a pizza slice halfway to his mouth Jongdae spots Junmyeon approaching, waving, a large Starbucks drink in hand.  He wants to turn away and hide in his pizza. He isn't good at this - making friends. For months Junmyeon has asked him to join in their monthly networking events here at the mall, or asked him to get a drink at Flanagan’s after work to chat. Jongdae’s all out of excuses.

He imagines his life as a circuit board. There’s his life now - pieces and wires scattered around him - and there’s the life he could have. If he’s brave and if he tries. He imagines the pieces fitting together and what they might build. He wonders if you might fit in, if you’d want him or let him.

His knee is jiggling and he’s nervous, but he takes a deep breath and waves back. ‘Hey Jun! Want to join me for a bit?’ Jun’s expression is surprised - the man doesn’t know how to keep back any of his emotions. ‘If you have time, I mean. No pressure.’ He stutters, pulse racing and cheeks reddening.

Jun grins and sits down opposite him. ‘Absolutely. About time! I thought you’d turn me down forever,’ he laughs. ‘Thanks again for helping me with that broken radio last month. You’re a pro. So, how’s business?’ He sips his coffee and waits patiently.

They can talk about business, something so easy? Jongdae wants to laugh with relief. Maybe he can do this after all.

Junmyeon is amused.

After ten minutes of talking shop with Jongdae he watches as you and Jane leave the bookstore next to their lunch spot. He’s owned a business two doors down from Jongdae for years, but he’s never seen him smile before. When you pass by it’s like someone flipped on a light switch. Jongdae has always been somewhat quiet, somewhat serious, except when he DJs. Now he sits straighter, his face softens, and his eyes fixate on yours like a magnet.

The two of you claim the other seats at the table, showing off the books you purchased. In between sips of his coffee Junmyeon balances his own flirtation with Jane and observing - okay, spying - on you and Jongdae.

He’s warmed by not just the caffeinated beverage. There’s a soft energy here- It’s a warm summer day and he’s discussing books, one of his all-time favorite topics. His mind whispers the words ‘double date’ and he smiles to himself for a moment before blinking.

“Are you alright?” Jane asks, gently resting her hand on Junmyeon’s wrist on the table.

He blushes and gives her a reassuring nod and asks if she’s read the Octavia Butler book on top of her stack yet. It’s an attempt at distraction and he knows it. But thankfully Jane’s eyes crinkle in the corners when she talks about the author, not pausing or seeming to notice the way he was fantasizing for a beat.

Across from him you and Jongdae are arguing about the merits of Isaac Asmiov. Jongdae is more articulate, more animated, more alive than he’s ever seen him. Gesturing emphatically and saying something about how robots are friends, not foes as you interrupt him by reminding him about Terminator. Neither of you seem to acknowledge the attraction between you. It’s been months since you started working at Chen’s, if Junmyeon remembers correctly.

In his periphery he sees Temptation, the chocolate store, and thinks of how Yixing and his girlfriend met on the job. One of his favorite poems mentions how love mirrors the lover; that everyone falls in love in a way akin to their personality. Yixing, passionate and insatiable and spontaneous, fell for Lavender in minutes and days. He saw what he wanted and after a slight pause to make sure it’s what Lav really wanted, he made the move.

Jongdae is nothing if not the complete opposite. Calculating and reserved and inscrutable.

His potential new friend is falling, if the lingering looks he gives you and the way he’s almost touched your shoulder not once but twice are any indication. But it’s a mystery to Junmyeon if, or when, Jongdae will ever make a move. You aren’t the same kind of romantic as Yixing’s girlfriend, someone playful and open with your emotions. You’re driven and witty and warm in your own way. Clearly you care for Jongdae, but in a quieter sense.

Junmyeon imagines this will be a marathon of love, not a sprint.

Eventually lunch hours end for all of you. There’s clients to see and paperwork to do and as he waves to you and Jane he wonders what will become of you and Jongdae. If you’ll stay as co-workers, always flirting and secretly wondering what might be. Or if either of you will push the other into action. The chess board is laid out, pieces waiting to be moved. It might just be his imagination, but Junmyeon hopes that one of you gets the game going.

He does also, perhaps, focus on you and Jongdae as a way to ignore how his own heart beats a bit faster around Jane. How he can’t stop staring at her dimple when she smiles or the head tilt she gives him when she’s really listening. Like he’s the only person in the world. No, he absolutely doesn’t think about Jane’s feet i n his lap as they both read on the couch in his living room. He doesn’t wonder what it would be like to kiss her or hold her hand. Absolutely not.

Instead he invites Jongdae to the monthly Settlers of Catan night he has with Minseok and some other folks from the mall. Much safer territory than wondering about his own love story and if still waters truly do run deep where he and Jane are concerned.

August 11th, 1997

On a surprisingly rainy yet unsurprisingly dead Monday morning Jongdae forces you away from your insistent attempts to organize his paperwork to the market a few streets over. The quiet bakery on the hill above Pike Place has a view of the misty Sound beyond. He sits close beside you, carefully keeping his knees away, lest he bump yours and you do the same, perhaps letting them linger a moment each time they collide.

It’s nice here, you notice suddenly, as you take the first sip of your coffee. The smell of dark roast and fresh almond scones. The breeze coming in through the open door. The soothing, distant sound of jazz from the overhead speaker. The pleasant warm lighting, far different than the aggressively bland fluorescent kind he chose for Chen's. Everything puts you at ease, wraps around you the way you wish Jongdae’s arms would.  

'This place reminds me of Amsterdam.' You smile, looking down into your cappuccino to avoid Jongdae’s eyes.

‘Have you ever been?’ he asks, voice softer than it normally is.

With a shake of your head you trace the edge of the teal and white ceramic cup in front of you. ‘No, but I’ve seen pictures. I used to love photo books growing up. Atlases and travel guides. It’s always been my favorite section of the library.’

He hums for a moment, considering. 'If you could go anywhere in the world, is that where you'd choose?'

Tucking your hair behind your ears you bite your lip to avoid grinning at him. He’s making you remember long-forgotten parts of yourself. Before school and work became the end point, the be-all end-all that your life was funnelled towards. Back when you imagined exploring every country on the planet. Taking photos and making memories. A long time ago, in the days before you realized how expensive it is to actually be a wanderlust-filled adventurer.

Finally you look at him. Something in his irises makes you swallow; an endless, nameless emotion that lives in him you can never seem to place. Elusive and frustrating and tempting all at once.

‘Yes,’ you admit. Voice dry and heart racing you look back to your coffee in avoidance. ‘It’s my dream to travel there. I’m a bit obsessed with it, really.’

'You? Obsessed?' Jongdae smirks, a boyish grin you want to cover with your own mouth.

You roll your eyes, tracing the handle of your mug. 'Hush. It's such a beautiful city with all the canals and the architecture and history, and the food is to die for. Every quaint European city fantasy in one. What about you, have you done much traveling?'

He shakes his head. ‘Not personally. But - my grandfather went everywhere in Europe, after the war.’ His admission is so quiet you almost miss it. But it’s as if your soul is waiting for every crack in the door to Jongdae you can find, and you don’t pass up the opportunity. ‘What was he like?’

It happens sometimes, when you’re working together. The times there’s no customers around and the mall gets empty and you can’t help but be aware of him. Against your skin and with your hands, eyes feasting on him when the rest of you is forbidden from doing so. In the moments when he isn’t putting on airs of being the tech mogul or the reclusive jerk or the awkward, secretly friendly nerd around Jun or Minseok.

Those times when Jongdae meets your eyes and you see the real him, beneath it all. Wanting and alone and scared. Your breath catches in your throat just as it does now and you long to ask him plainly if he feels the way you do. Being honest with your words and not just your jokes or looks out the corner of your eyes when you catch him watching you too.

But those feel too fragile, too dangerous to utter. So instead you ask him about his family, someone close enough to Jo ngdae’s heart to glimpse the core of him; like a sun during an eclipse you can only look for a moment, lest you get burned.

'My grandfather?’ Brows furrow, the corners of his cat-like lips tilting down for a moment. You nod gently, cupping your drink for something to occupy your hands.

Jongdae looks out at the water for a moment, his mouth tugging to the side as he ponders. ‘You know when you finally solve a puzzle you’ve been working on for ages? Hours of struggling to find the right combination and finally it’s all laid out, perfectly in alignment.’

You nod, trying not to smile and ruin the moment, but softened by him nonetheless. ‘Yeah, I know what you mean.’

When his gaze lands on your hands he pauses, like he’s wondering if the two of you might fit in a similar way. But it’s gone before you can grasp onto the moment. Sadness colors his features then. Not the aching kind that gnaws away like a feral monster, leaving nothing in its wake, but the beautiful, bittersweet sadness of a love greater than grief.

His voice is thick when he next speaks. ‘My grandfather was that person for me. We just - fit. He understood me better than my parents did. More than any of my classmates or the few people I’ve ever gone out with. We didn’t even need to speak.’ Jongdae pauses and taps his fingers on the counter.

You give in and reach for his hand, not to hold it - not yet. But to cover it with your own for a moment of understanding, of comfort.

He smiles at you, the crease between his brows disappearing for a moment. ‘He was fifty one years older than me and he was my best friend.’

‘I’ll bet you miss him quite a lot?’ You realize how incredibly inadequate the sentiment is and shake your head, moving to withdraw your hand. ‘Sorry - that’s - of course you miss him.’

But Jongdae doesn’t let you retreat. With his free hand he holds yours in place. Warmth floods your body from the connection point and you’re unable to take your eyes off him. ‘It’s alright, I know what you mean.’ He traces your thumb with a barely there motion, seemingly without intending to. ‘Thank you.’

‘For what?’ You ask, a bit breathless and unable to mind.

‘For always asking. For always listening.’ He says it simply, as though it’s a novel concept. Perhaps, given what you know of his life, who he is, not many people dare to ask. Or bother to listen.

Soon paperwork and customers and regular life draw you back to Chen’s Electronics. He doesn’t mention the way you reached for him and you don’t either. But when you go to leave that afternoon Jongdae holds out your jean jacket for you to slip on. And when you thank him he gives you the soft, secret grin you’ve learned he saves only for you.

On the way home you think that Amsterdam might be the most beautiful city you can imagine, but that it pales in comparison to a hole-in-the-wall cafe in Seattle, as long as Jongdae is seated beside you.

September 9th, 1997

The summer turns into fall and one Monday evening, seemingly without his noticing, Jongdae realizes that his appointment book is full to bursting.

On Tuesday night he's playing Settlers of Catan with Minseok, Bookworm, Kyungsoo, and Junmyeon. They meet up in the food court after the mall closes at nine, second Tuesday of every month.

Wednesday he has lunch with Jun and some other business owners in the mall for their monthly networking/commiserating 'sesh' as Yixing calls it. That afternoon he's promised to help Minseok install the new upgrades to his store's database software that 'make him want to rip out his hair' in exchange for a few coveted LPs Jongdae's had his eyes on for a 70’s/grunge remix set at Shari's.

Thursday night there’s a L.A. Confidential screening at the theater that Baekhyun talked him into, after their argument about whether or not Russel Crowe could actually act or if he was just handsome.

Saturdays are pizza and raucous laughter to break up the busy weekends full of work and clients and deadlines, followed by long nights of DJ-ing and circling you as if you are a sun, drawing him in with the pull of your gravity. He’s merely a comet attracted by the force you give off and he’s not even upset at the realization.

Sehun, Jongin, and Yixing practically bribed him into joining their 'Sunday morning brunch and biceps' workout group, saying that they need a fourth and everyone else is normally sleeping off their hangovers or works the opening shift.

It’s other people’s names all over his schedule, but what he feels is you. Everywhere, all over him. He knows it’s you. Not intentionally, perhaps. But you opened a door for him with your ease and generosity. One Saturday pizza lunch and somehow he’s gotten to know more people in two months at the mall than he had in the years before combined.

You’d wave him off if he mentioned it or thanked you. With that adorable tilt of your head you would smirk and tell him that all he has to do is give people a chance. That they don’t bite.

Irrationally he wants to do things for you - not just as a friend but in the romantic sense - like buy you flowers or have you by his side at Thursday movie screenings or take you to Amsterdam, just to watch you bloom among the flowers. But that would be�� crazy, right? He sits in his favorite armchair unable to focus on the book in front of him and runs agitated hands through his hair.

He’s not your boyfriend or your partner. He’s your boss or your co-worker and possibly your friend. Why does he think of holding your hand and walking along the canals of some foreign city every time you look in his direction?

Why does the once-comforting quiet of his apartment feel more and more empty when you’re not laying on the couch across from him, reading and teasing him? Why does he wake up and wish that someone besides himself filled his bed? Someone with your expressions and your joy and your stubborn insistence.

He briefly makes a mental note to ask Yixing how he ended up dating Lavender before suddenly tossing the book to the floor, standing with a groan.

‘What a ridiculous idea!’ he yells aloud to the empty apartment. Jongdae paces circles in the carpet of his living room and wonders if part of being in love is going slightly insane, if everyone who manages to do so finds the madness enjoyable or if love is simply folie à deux?

He looks at his calendar, spread open on his grandfather’s old, wooden desk and tries to comprehend how his life could be so different one year to the next. Like he’s grasping at straws or wisps of air. Aside from work and his grandfather and music, what did he have before? The occasional alumni event or guest lecture at his alma maters?

For a minute his chest feels too full to breathe, unable to let in anything more. Panic tugs at him for a second. It’s too much, all at once - too many people and too many events. Too many opportunities to mess up and these people? He can’t sever his life completely like he did from Julian and his friends. They're so connected to this space he's made his business in. What will happen when he inevitably falls out of favor with them?

He imagines himself shunned and the idea hurts worse than before. Back then he had chosen isolation; to have it thrust unwillingly upon him, unasked, is too much to comprehend.

Once he walked naively into friendship, believing it was easy and that it would last. That there was no rug that would be unceremoniously swept out from under him. But people change, faster than he can believe.

Jongdae sits on the floor, his pajama pants brushing his crossed legs, and forces himself to steady his breathing. These people are not his old friends at Microsoft, he reminds himself. Nor are they the kids in school who teased him, or his classmates in college who resented him or treated him like an annoyance.

Like he’s always practiced, he turns to facts to calm his mind. He’s safe - the apartment is his and he has plenty of money. Not just from his business but from his grandfather’s life insurance. If he wanted to leave - if he was forced to, he thinks he could do it. But something within him howls at the idea of leaving what he has now.

For the first time in ages he has ideas, plans, and dreams for what to do with his life. Now he has people he cares about, people who he trusts to be kind rather than fearing they’ll betray or leave him. You’re at the center of it, if you let him. Determination takes hold of him and doesn’t let go. After a few moments his panic subsides, washed away by the bright promise of a future he’s never dared to imagine before now. Before you.

September 13th, 1997

By the end of your second drink you contemplate being the one to risk it all and ask Jongdae out.

In the months you’ve worked together you stopped seeing him as a challenge and started viewing him instead as the push to your pull. The yang to your yin. The - you sip on your rum and coke and get lost in the tug of his brows and the set of his lips as he spins rather than finding another apt metaphor.

The first time you met him you knew there was something underneath his hard exterior, but you had no idea how correct you’d be proven. Somehow he walks the tightrope between being harsh and being softer than you thought possible. But rather than turn you off you find you’re drawn to his bewildering mix of wry humor, nerdy fixations, and raw emotion. It unlocks all the jagged parts of you that you try to keep so nicely pressed together.

For someone who has been deemed too much to handle finding a man who seems to do it with ease is staggering. He loves your bossy, charismatic nature and your ideas about new things to try at the store. He listens intently when you rattle off obscure facts about your favorite books and movies. He sees your dreams of traveling, of being part of community here, as a complement, not a detriment to your professional career.

A voice startles you. “So when are you going to jump his bones?” Baekhyun is the kind of puppy dog, glowing cheeks, wide-eyed endearing drunk you wish you could hate.

He waggles his brows at you and you snort, shoving him away with your shoulder. “I have zero idea what you’re talking about.”

You weave your way around the perimeter of the dance floor, trying and failing to not fixate on Jongdae with every step.

“Come on. Admit it. You’ve got a thing for the DJ.” His mouth tugs into a smug grin and you groan. “And word on the street is he wants you too.”

“He’s my boss.” The last of your drink burns your throat and you belly up to the bar to order another. “Get real.”

Always a hoe for gossip, Baekhyun leans one elbow against the bar and drops his chin into his hand to watch you. Rather than speak and risk your wrath again he merely looks between you and Jongdae, waiting.

You pride yourself on not giving into temptation for all of ten seconds and then blurt out - “What are you doing?”

Baekhyun presses his lips together to suppress a grin. He raises a finger and holds it up. “You’ll see.”

The bartender is tied up with a group at the far end so you sigh and turn, resting your back against the bar top. With folded arms you observe the club. “We’re about to be abducted by aliens? Jongin’s going to breakdance? Minseok and Bookworm are -”

He clicks his tongue. “So impatient. You two really are a match made in heaven.”

“Me and Jongdae?” If you weren’t already buzzed you’d deny it more. But the permission to speak openly about your feelings for the DJ is too tempting. “You think so?”

Before he can tease you again a motion up ahead catches your focus. Jongdae looks up without tilting his head. His eyes cut to the left, to the two overflowing booths that are filled with the usual crew from the Exodus Mall. With amusement you follow his eye line as he scans the dance floor, looking for something. He never breaks the movement of his hands, spinning the vinyl and working the controls.

Finally his focus lands on you and Baekhyun at the bar. Jongdae’s eyes widen and that unreadable expression settles on his features, no emotion escaping. Your heart picks up, cheeks heating with awareness. There’s nothing to do but hold his gaze for long seconds while the club pulses with life around you. Isolated and together, even across the room.

And then Baekhyun ruins it.

With a comically large wave he smiles at Jongdae. The motion breaks Jongdae’s focus and he rolls his eyes, shaking his head at his friend’s ridiculousness. A smile tugs at his lips and he gives you a look of commiseration and you laugh, reaching over to ruffle Baekhyun’s blonde hair.

The song changes and Jongdae finally looks away. A second later the bartender appears, asking you for your next order. Baekhyun waits patiently beside you, arms folded against the bar, his smugness a tangible thing in the air between you two.

You bite your lip and look at yourself in the mirror behind the bar, visible between the clear shelves of liqueurs and syrups. Could he feel the same way? Does Jongdae imagine holding you, kissing you, being with you the same way you do with him in your unguarded moments?

The two of you already do so much together - work five days a week. Meals alone or with friends. Nights here, separate but still united in the bubble of the dance club. It strikes you just how thin the line is between friends and coworkers and … something more. A four-letter sinful word that starts with L and implies dangerous things like hands touching hands followed by lips and skin and teeth. A different four-letter word full of softness and commitment that has no place being in your mind at the same time as Jongdae’s name.

A hand rests gently on your shoulder. “I told you,” Baek says sincerely. He disappears after waggling his damned eyebrows one more time and leaves you at the bar, wondering.

Half of you wants to confess to him out of genuine affection and desire for connection; you can’t escape the way he makes you long to be reckless and daring and bold and romantic in the kind of grand gesture sense that you’d have rolled your eyes at before you met him. The delicate balance makes your palms sweat and your glass shake slightly as you raise it to your lips. From nerves or excitement or a mix of the two.

You could make the first move, but the logical half of your mind wins out. Instead you swallow your drink in three gulps and head over to the DJ booth to talk to him and nothing more. Close enough to be comforted by his nearness but keeping your desire closeted behind your fear. Tonight that’s all you can manage.

Passing by Yixing and Lavender dancing is a reminder of all the good love can bring. Yixing’s hands holding her close, her arms folded around his neck and their foreheads together. Intimate words are shared that aren’t meant for your ears, even if you could hear them over the sound of the music.

But just beyond is Baekhyun and Hitch. She laughs and dances out of his way as he tries to tickle her. They’re obviously in love to anyone who watches, so why haven’t they admitted it and had a go at being together? Maybe it’s for the best, you wonder. If trying and failing and ruining what you have it worse than never trying at all.

Before you can wander too far down the road of doubt and consequences you remember how it felt to have Jongdae’s hand on top of yours. The thought of tomorrow and the days after disappear altogether when you feel Jongdae’s eyes on you once more, drawing you closer to him, whether he knows his effect on you or not. When you reach the booth you decide to stop thinking in general, and let yourself feel instead.

Saturday night and he's in his element. In the booth, far away from the rest of the crowd but still a part of it. Adrenaline in his veins. Music is Jongdae’s therapy. An alter ego much like the comic book characters he read about growing up. It's the skin he can put on when he's tired of being himself. A place where he can set down the baggage of his identity for a night and get lost in the beats.

He closes his eyes, savoring the pattern of the vinyl beneath his fingertips.

Suddenly, he feels you. Of course you're here. He's never free from you, he thinks with a rueful smile. First you invaded this place, his escape and his temple. Then you wormed your way into his business as though you always belonged there. Now you're occupying his senses the way you occupy his thoughts at all hours.

For a beat he admires you, standing at the bar rolling your eyes while Baekhyun waves dramatically. He drinks you in with a last look at your fabulous legs before reluctantly turning back to switching out one album for the next. Lately you’ve taken to joining him for a bit while he spins and he hopes that once again you’ll come up to the booth tonight.

He's not a patient man, or a subtle one. If he wanted to be rid of you, you'd be gone. Severed with the kind of brutal finality he showed to anyone from his time after M.I.T. There are no second chances as far as he's concerned. But still, you remain. Infuriating, exhilarating. Never far from his consciousness.

'You look like you're having a good time!'

Sooner than expected your voice breaks his trance and he lifts his eyes to look at you. His heart thumps painfully in his chest and he swallows harshly. He doesn't know how you do it - how you effortlessly change to match your surroundings.

One minute you're his office manager, polite and respectful and skilled. Already he sees the business taking shape, becoming more cohesive and smooth beneath your talented mind and heart. And your feisty insistence that he upgrade and finesse his marketing and finally finish putting together a website for Chen’s.

The next minute you're leaning over the edge of the booth, chest coming forward and revealing your neckline. The red is fitting on you. It brings out the natural flush in your cheeks and makes you look perpetually alive. He feels stagnant by comparison, a man of stone who remains unchanging while the world passes him by.

The tumble of hair across your shoulders and the delight in your eyes are so beautiful he wants to reach for you. To reach for more, be more than who he has been - afraid and alone. Bitterness lives in his heart, swatting away anyone who gets too close. But here you are, knocking once more on the door of his being.

He finds his voice, his hands thankfully moving on muscle memory as he drops in the next remix. 'It's good energy tonight,' he fumbles. 'I love this song.' You nod in agreement.

It’s easy, being with you. Together you talk about work and the music he plays and your group of friends. Chanyeol and Bijoux, who finally got together again after what seems like months of back and forth. Bets on how long Minseok will wait before he proposes to Bookworm, now that they’re an official item. Joking about Baekhyun and Hitch like always.

He shows off for you, just a little. Spins 'Scream' by Michael and Janet jackson with a bit more pizazz than usual. It strikes him as amusing how much he always hated being watched before this. Not that many people pay particular attention to him as a DJ, but he thinks he might like the way it feels to be watched by you.

He wants to watch you, too, for as long as you let him. He already can’t take his eyes off you. No matter how much that idea might terrify him. When he drops the next mix and the crowd cheers at ‘Tubthumping’ he gives you a rare broad smile and it's like being punched in the chest when you return it with an unexpectedly shy one of your own.

Jongdae almost invites you into the booth. He sees it as though it were one of the romantic comedies that are so popular right now. You would take your place in front of him. He'd get to rest his hand on top of yours, guiding your movements. Maybe as you got the hang of it he would slide them to hold your hips, keeping your back to his chest as his mouth finds your neck.

Liz invites you to dance and Jongdae wipes the probably awed look off his face with effort. He needs some cold water, immediately.

Friday September 19th

Jongdae is upset about something. It’s not so much that you now seem to be able to pick up his moods with ease, which is true, but the fact that he is nearly tearing his hair out. A piece of paper sits in front of him on the desk but it’s too far away for you to read.

By the time he groans for the fifth time you finally speak up. ‘Are you alright?’

His head jerks up and his eyes are tired when they meet yours. Not ‘it’s been a long week’ tired, but something sad in his expression that makes him look fragile and younger than his years.

For a moment he shakes his head. Then he picks up the paper and waves it in the air, opening and closing his mouth in rapid succession. The confusion on his normally self-assured face would be comical if it wasn’t such an obviously distressing situation. Finally he drops the paper and leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand along his jaw.

‘I just got word that they’re demolishing the apartment building I live in. I have to move by November 1st.’

Instantly you want to hug him or hold his hand. ‘Your grandfather’s apartment?’

Jongdae nods. ‘They’re tearing it down so they can put in some luxury condos. Yet another classic neighborhood about to be wiped out in the name of progress.’ He sighs, looking at the ceiling to compose himself. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be so-’

‘No, it’s -’ you start, unsure of your destination. ‘It’s an important place. And it’s your home. Don’t apologize for being pissed off about it.’

He nods, taken aback. ‘Exactly. It’s where I grew up. I’ve also never had to look for an apartment or move, either. So this will be dreadful.’

You bite the inside of your cheek. The offer to help practically leaps from your mouth and you hold it close for a moment, making sure you don’t rush into something that’s out of your depth. But as always your logic overrules your fear.

‘I could help, if you like?’ He’s just your boss slash co-worker. It’s innocent. It’s harmless, right? ‘I’ve moved so often with school and everything. I know my way around the city.’

In the ensuing pause Jongdae’s solemnity returns, his mouth and the lines of his face don’t give away any emotion. But, as always, he holds you in place with his expression. And his eyes have that fire within that he seems to only show to you. ‘That would be wonderful, thank you.’

You nod, case closed. Turning back to your computer you lie to yourself further, pretending not to notice how his voice lowered. As though he knew you weren’t just offering for help with his living situation. But something more raw and painful that he isn’t prepared to hold on his own just yet.

For how picky you thought you were about apartments, Jongdae has you beat by a mile. Student housing accustomed you to wonky flooring and cramped kitchens and the charming yet ancient windows on many older Seattle homes. But his grandfather’s gorgeous pre-war unit had made Jongdae’s tastes quite particular.

On Tuesdays and on weekends you pulled up listings and showed Jongdae around the city by way of it’s apartments, condos, and houses. He enjoyed the nature surrounding Greenlake, the affordable houses north of UW in Ravenna, and the vibe of Ballard and Fremont. But he ruled anything north of 520 out quickly as ‘too far from the store.’ The luxury of walking to work on nicer days was something he wasn’t willing to part with.

The same unfortunately ruled out a townhouse in Alki that you had salivated over, a block from the beach. Pioneer Square had some great lofts that would have been perfect for a music-lover like Jongdae, but he vetoed those as well. Along with all the trendy industrial lofts near the stadiums, claiming he hated all the construction going on nearby.

It should have been frustrating, to spend endless hours watching him nix perfectly wonderful places. In Queen Anne he hated the hills. Westlake he disliked the mall. Madrona, Leschi, Montlake, Magnolia, and Lake Union all came close but still he shook his head and said ‘thanks, but no thanks’ to landlord after landlord.

It should have driven you mad, but all it did was make you like him more.

Falling in love with Jongdae isn’t what you had planned. But from the first night you saw him at the club some part of you knew it was inevitable, the way the rain in autumn starts off as a light drizzle and before you know it becomes a torrential downpour, blanketing the city and saturating every exposed corner.

He always brought you coffee and insisted on buying breakfast or lunch. He always picked you up, right on time. Held doors and made sure he didn’t walk too fast and did the thing where his arm hovered over your back when the two of you were in crowded spaces. Not touching, but close enough you could feel him protecting you. On anyone else you would have absolutely hated that, but of course from him, you craved it.

Day after day you listened to music in his car as the two of you drove around little neighborhoods hoping to find something, complaining about how tight and ridiculous the parking situation always is. Joking about your friends or the news or the latest books you’re reading. They hardly felt like dates. No, they felt like something even more insidious. Like being in a relationship with him. Easy and warm and friendly and the kind of thing you could get used to.

But eventually it had to end, before it seemed like either of you were ready.

On a surprisingly warm Tuesday in October the two of you walk into a place that no one could object to. The building is in south Capitol Hill, close to Cal Anderson and only a fifteen or twenty minute walk from the mall. It’s designed in the classic Victorian style of the neighborhood, but was completed just three years ago. Small pane windows and a fireplace with a carved mantle and dark spires on the roof, all with brand new insulation and appliances.

Sunlight floods the corner unit on the top floor and you gasped as soon as the door opened. Jongdae stands beside you as the landlord goes over the details of the square footage and the building amenities, but neither of you are listening anymore.

‘What do you think?’ he asks softly. The five-story building sits on a slight hill and overlooks the rest of downtown, with a partial water view around the tall downtown skyscrapers.

‘I think it’s as close to perfect as you’re going to get.’

He moves closer and rests his palms on the window sill, looking around for a moment before turning his head to watch you. ‘Good.’

After a long pause Jongdae pushes off the windows and politely interrupts the landlord, who is currently opening every single cabinet in the kitchen and giving a detailed run down of his wife’s favorite tupperware, asking about the deposit. The way he phrased it along with the attentive way he waited for your approval makes you wonder if he wasn’t just picking this apartment for himself.

Imagining yourself there scares you. If he was seeking your opinion… surely he would be hoping you’d come over? Neither of you have spoken a word about the bizarre yet undeniable attraction you have, but that hardly forms the basis of a relationship. A boyfriend who wanted to be sure you liked his new place would be one thing, but your friend and co-worker who has never admitted to even liking you is quite another.

You lean against the edge of the window and run a finger along the ledge. A small part of you whispers that you’re supposed to be doing something else, eventually. You won’t work at Chen’s forever, but it wasn’t meant to be this hard to leave. It’s just a stop on the way to your final destination. So why do you want to get off the train altogether and make a home here?

Would it be so terrible, to be with him? It’s been a fantasy for so long that imagining real life with him makes you suck in a breath as though you’ve been punched in the gut. It could be a fresh start for you both. The end of one adventure and the beginning of a new one. You remind yourself that being in love doesn’t mean you can’t travel or change the world. Being with Jongdae would hopefully only encourage your dreams, not stifle them.

As they discuss deposit and applications and timelines for moving into the apartment you wander into the other rooms.

The bathroom has a large tub and dual sinks. You can only imagine what your expression must be like right now, given your swirling emotions, and avoid the mirror altogether. The second bedroom is more like a cozy office, narrow enough for a desk and a couch and perhaps some bookshelves. In the bedroom you hesitate at the doorway, reaching up to play with the pendant of your necklace.

Windows run along both sides, meeting in a corner. You think of plants lining the wide ledges and going to sleep with the setting westward sun and how short of a walk it would be to get breakfast from your favorite bagel shop that’s just a block away. It’s close to the mall and the club. It’s truly perfect.

As you watch cars pass and people walk by down below you space out, the image blurring and becoming Jongdae on a bed in this room, leaning back against the pillows with a book in his lap. Smiling at you and pulling you close since he knows you refuse to get up earlier than you have to on your days off.

Inexplicably you want to cry and you huff out a laugh, squeezing your eyes tightly only to find that they’re damp. It’s not anger that the vision inspires in you or even sadness. It’s frustration and amusement that war inside you as you think about how you fell in love with him without your consent. Rational thinking should have stopped this long ago, but all you can think as you stand there is how nice it is to be with him. And how you wouldn’t mind being with him for a long while.

The only thing that helps ease the tension in your chest is how he looks at you on the drive back to your place. You fill the time with discussions of moving trucks and hiring a company to help with the heavy lifting, but you’re both clearly distracted by other thoughts. He pulls his car up to your apartment and you try to avoid looking at him as you say goodbye, but he briefly rests his hand on your knee to get your attention.

Your hand stops in its motion to grab your bag and ends up nearly on top of his, but you make no movement to break the contact. ‘Thank you,’ he says softly. ‘I mean it.’ Jongdae turns his hand and holds yours, giving it a quick squeeze and looking like he never wants to let go.

October 12th, 1997

You’re eating cheesy bread at Barada with Hitch, but today she’s different - evasive and nervous in a strange way. 'So I - uhh. I have news,' she finally says. She sips her drink and looks at the table rather than at you. 'I don't know if I should tell you though.'

Pausing in your chewing you raise a brow. 'You can tell me anything, you know that.'

She awkwardly runs a hand along her neck. 'No I know. I just -' she huffs out a breath and blows her hair off her forehead..

'You and Baekhyun finally had sex and you're pregnant?' You smirk at her as she chokes on her soda. 'Come on, just spit it out.'

She waves and hand and very quickly says - 'There's a project manager position open in the gaming division. Some new big thing and they're looking for an upstart to head up operations.'

You frown and tear off another slide of bread, not understanding her odd behavior at all. 'Okay… and you're thinking what, thinking of applying?'

'No, you dork. I'm thinking you should apply.' She tilts her head like she assumed your reaction would be more immediate. 'You wanted me to keep an eye out for you, right? I didn't want to say anything since - '

'Since?' you ask, both afraid of what she'll say and dying to know. Terrified it will have to do with Jongdae and the swirling mess of feelings you have for him.

It’s her turn to be wry. 'Since you and Jongdae have been attached at the hip.'

'Really?' You stall, taking an enormous bite.

Hitch tosses a balled-up napkin at you. 'Yes. When I met you in college I thought 'there goes the most intense person I've ever met.’ And then I met Jongdae after he opened Chen’s and he gave you a run for your money.' She dusts off her hands. 'You both could be making millions someday. Taking over countries or saving the world or something. We all know it. I don't know, I didn’t want to mention this because together you guys seem happier. Softer? Something like that..'

'And you think me getting a job there would ruin that?' Her words mirror your fears exactly and your stomach drops.

'It's taken me years to get Jongdae to even look at me after I told him where I worked. He hates Microsoft. With good reason, from what you've implied. I'm sure you could make it work, but trust me when I say if you get swept up into that upper management spiral, we probably won't see you again.'

'I won't completely abandon you guys just because I get a new job.' But doubt whispers in your mind. The long hours and the endless meetings and the extra work to always be the best, to always be ahead. 'Okay fine, I see your point. I still have to try, right? I should at least apply.'

She rests her hand over yours where you have your napkin in a death grip on the table. 'You don't have to do anything, babe. We'll always be here for you even if you become a tech mogul overnight. But will it make you happy? Whatever comes next... do it for yourself, okay? Not just cause you think you should.'

You smile and hold her hand for a moment, wrinkling your nose. 'Thank you, Hitch. I needed that. What about you? You said you were going to apply for that transfer to the NYC office, are you still considering it?'

She blows out a deep breath and pulls her hand back, dropping her forehead to it for a moment. 'God, I don't know. My whole life is here. And I'd have to leave the theater.' She rests her chin on her palm and looks up at you with a dramatic frown. 'My friends are all here. My family. I love where I'm at, but I know that something eventually has to change.'

'Baekhyun?' You grin at her, wondering if the move might finally force them to admit their feelings.

Hitch straightens and looks across the food court to the movie theater. 'Yeah, something like that.' She gives you a dramatic waggle of her brow. 'Jongdae?'

You groan and fold your arms, sinking lower into your seat. Even your roommates ask about him now. Everyone can surely see how you light up around him. The way you gravitate towards the DJ booth on club nights like a moth to a flame. The way you draw him into conversations and brag about him. It should be forbidden territory, as untouchable and unreadable as he is. Not to mention he's your boss.

But worst of all he still hasn't said anything about it, nothing more than the occasional flirtatious comment or lingering look. Even after all your time together and the way he looked at you in the new apartment. For all you know he sees you as a very stubborn employee who happens to force your way into things.

You cover your face with your hands and sigh. 'Something like that.'

Hitchcock stands and takes your shared tray of dishes to the bus station with a throaty laugh. 'That's what I thought.'

November 1st, 1997

Jongdae is frantically packing up more of his bookshelf when the doorbell rings. He smiles on instinct. It's not something he can help anymore, not when he knows it's you on the other side. Right at nine in the morning, just when you promised the movers would be here. With a last look around his living room at the organized chaos he wipes his hands on his sweatpants and stands.

It surprised him how quickly you agreed to help with - well, everything, really.

When he told you about his move he didn’t expect anything would come of it. It's his problem, not yours. He didn't imagine for a moment you'd give the announcement more attention than a sympathetic word or two. But you stepped to his side. Put up with his grouchy persistence in believing that there's no place in the world, let alone in Seattle, that would be as amazing as this apartment. As it always seems with you, he found himself proven wrong.

You didn't let him wallow and guided him with your decisiveness through the checklist of everything he'd need to do. A few months ago he would have waved you off. Decided you were being bossy or nosy and turned down the help with a cold shoulder. 

But now he wants you around for everything and the thought makes him pause with his hand on the doorknob.

He made sure you like his new apartment too because - when he isn't expecting it he imagines you there. Not just as his co-worker or employee or even as his friend. As someone more permanent. Lasting. It's not that he needs you to run his life for him, he's perfectly capable of doing things on his own. It's just that he loves how you barge your way into his world and refuse to let him be alone.

Jongdae doesn't know how yet, but he wants to show you how he feels in return. It's like trying to run with a blindfold on, but he desperately hopes that he can figure out how to care about you in the way you deserve. Bringing you coffee and asking about your day and giving you all the freedom you want at work are a start, but they barely scratch the surface of how much he feels for you.

He's got one idea. A big one. An insane one, that you'll probably call him nuts for suggesting. If he ever gets up the nerve someday.

The buzzer sounds again and he shakes himself out of it. Finally he pulls it open and is greeted by your smiling face in the morning gray light. Hair pulled back in a ponytail and dressed in a long black shirt and faded overalls. He leans against the doorframe, wondering if he's ever seen anything more beautiful than you on his doorstep.

'So, I have a surprise,' you start. With a free hand you nervously brush your hair behind your ear. It's so unlike you that he immediately wonders if something is wrong.

'What is it?'

Before you can answer, noise in the parking lot draws his focus. His front door faces the open-air walkway that leads to the stairs down to the parking lot. He expected a moving truck and several buff men in logoed shirts. Instead it's a scrappy group of your friends - his friends now, he supposes - looking tired but ready to help.

Junmyeon and Jane drink coffee and pull furniture dollys and heavy blankets out of a Uhaul truck. Liz and Jongin are leaning against the cab of Sehun's car and laugh at him as he and Yixing sleep peacefully in the backseat. Chanyeol and his girlfriend are paused on the landing below making out, a tape gun in each of their hands. Another car catches a break in the flow of traffic and pulls into one of the guest spaces. Minseok and Bookworm step out and yawn, tying sweatshirts around their waists.

Jongdae repeats his question. Or at least he tries to, but emotion catches his throat and all he can do is stare at you with a mix of surprise and what he's sure is a very naked expression of affection.

'How did you do this?' he asks when he can finally breathe again.

You tilt your head and grin at him, pride making you radiant even in the dull mist of the morning. 'Is this okay?' For a moment you look worried, tucking your hands in the pockets of your overalls and taking a step back.

'I know I said I'd hire the movers, but I thought this might be better? I didn't think everyone would be here, especially after the Halloween party last night. Soo and Sunshine are working, but I think - wait,' you turn and yell down to the group in the lot. 'Has anyone heard from Baek and Hitch?'

Chanyeol reluctantly pulls away from his girlfriend and replies. 'Yeah, he messaged me at the ass-crack of dawn. He said he and Hitch are fine, but they won't be able to make it until later.'

With a curious look you thank Chanyeol and turn back to Jongdae. 'Okay, so almost everyone came.'

'It's because you're incredible,' he agrees, heart warm and in awe of you. Stepping back, he shoves the door stop in with his foot to prop it open and gestures for you to come in.

He doesn't get two steps before your hand finds his bicep, stopping him. 'No, I'm just absolutely amazing at organizing things,' you laugh. ‘But they didn't just come for me Jongdae, they came because they're your friends. They wanted to help.'

The intensity in your voice makes him pause. Like you're trying to say far more than your words. He gets lost for a moment in your beautiful eyes and swallows harshly. His past, the negative parts, haven't come up much - his failed first business, the trail of broken friendships he's left behind him, the ensuing guard he's had up since - but you've paid far more attention than he realized.

He doesn't miss the meaning behind your words, or the look in your eyes; what you're asking of him. To trust you, to trust them. To release his death grip on the walls he keeps up to protect himself. But no matter how determined you are he knows he has to be the one to dismantle them. His heart is nervous and he instead focuses on your hand on his arm.

For a beat he wants to kiss you, then and there with almost all of his and your friends just outside. Instead he lets his actions speak when his mouth isn't able to and pulls you into a hug. You freeze for a moment, stiff with surprise. But after a moment it melts away and you hold him back, wrapping your arms around his waist. His head spins when you rest your forehead against his shoulder, unable to process the fact that you’re in his arms in reality, not just his dreams.

'You're the most amazing person,' he murmurs against your hair.

The sound of loud voices and thumping of boots on stairs make him pull back. You give him another smile, warmer and softer this time. Something that's private for him only. 'I know.'

He barks out a laugh as Sehun and Jongin come in through the doorway. 'Let's do this!' Sehun calls, clapping his hands together.

'We promise we won't steal anything,' Jongin jokes, looking around Jongdae's place with obvious fascination.

Bijoux organizes the packing party while Chanyeol grabs Jongdae's keys so he and Sehun can take the first load of boxes over to the new place while Junmyeon, Jongin, and Jongdae load up the bigger furniture pieces into the Uhaul. Jongdae lets out a rusty laugh as Junmyeon dubs them ‘the J squad.’ You work around them, collecting all the random trinkets and knicknacks that have escaped other boxes.

He closed Chen’s today to hopefully knock this entire project out in one swoop. Ripping it off like a Bandaid. After the first big load everyone splits up into teams. Sehun and Yixing pack and load the rest of the boxes and smaller items into the cars. Jongin, who is absolutely not trusted around breakable items, goes with Junmyeon to return the Uhaul to the rental shop and pick up lunch and drinks for everyone with the cash Jongdae insisted they take. 

And Minseok leads everyone else on a cleaning checklist he’s created with military precision. It's been so long Jongdae doesn't even know if he has a damage deposit. His grandfather took excellent care of the place and he kept it up in his absence, so he hopes it's not too much work to tidy.

Yixing’s boombox keeps up a steady flow of music throughout the morning and lunch time. With everyone’s help, and of course with the added fuel from the pizza and beverages, things are just wrapping up at the old place. You stay behind with Jongdae to take a last look around and turn in the keys, forcing him to take a few photos in the space to remember it.

‘This is it, I guess,’ he says, holding out the key and laying it on the kitchen counter with a small metallic sound.

‘How do you feel?’ You lean your hip against the fridge and drink from a water bottle.

Sunset over Lake Union is his favorite time of day and it’s hard to stand the thought of missing out on a last one. It’s barely two in the afternoon and it’s hours until golden hour. Rather than lie he simply says the truth. ‘I wish I could see the sun go down one last time.’

You come and stand next to him, close enough he can smell the light scent of your perfume and see the flush of your chest from the day’s exertion. ‘We can wait.’

He thinks of everyone at his new place, unloading boxes. ‘But everyone-’

‘Jongdae,’ you start. ‘They’ll be fine. You know Sehun has probably fallen asleep on your couch already. Baek and Hitch and the openers from Barada will be heading over soon. Some people have to head out for closing shifts but it’s already been decided that we’re doing movie night and Chinese take out tonight at your new place.’

‘Oh really?’ He presses his lips together to try not to laugh.

‘I don’t think you have much of a choice,’ you tease. ‘Trust me, they’ll be fine for another few hours.’

‘Alright then,’ he says after a pause.

The two of you sit on the bare hardwood floors and talk until the sun finally sets, just before five pm. He doesn’t yell his feelings for you at full volume like he wishes he could. He doesn’t dance with you or kiss you slowly in the empty apartment, there’s far too many emotions in his heart today to try and cope with more. But after he locks up and leaves the keys behind he does take your hand to help you into the car. And he does hold it for far longer than necessary before pulling back to shut the door. 

It’s not much, but like his new apartment it’s the start of something.

November 3rd, 1997

You’ve got to tell Jongdae now, but nerves eat away at you and your resolve lessens minute by minute. Since the move he’s been warmer, more open, and you don’t want to ruin that. But you can’t keep this from him any longer.

Applying at Microsoft was supposed to be a long shot, a shot in the dark, or some other kind of shot that never meant to lead anywhere. But still it’s one you took and one that ended up paying off way faster and more successfully than you’d planned. After two interviews last week you sit with a job offer on your answering machine back home and a choice to make.

They need your decision by tomorrow and as Monday winds into early afternoon your deadline approaches. You bite your lip and vacillate wildly between thoughts. On the one hand this could be a good thing - if you’re no longer working at the same place, there’s nothing stopping the two of you from being together, right?

But what if Jongdae can’t see past his hurt and freaks out, assuming you’re leaving him like everyone else has? Or worse, what if he never cared about you that way at all?

Your stomach drops at the thought of walking out of here into your dream job, but feeling empty, leaving behind someone who has come to mean so much to you.

Your roommates Liz and Jane, Hitch, hell even Baekhyun weaseled the truth out of you at Shari’s on Saturday. Stone cold sober and still you let out everything to him sitting in your group’s favorite booth. About how you might in fact love Jongdae and how badly you want this opportunity, how utterly terrifying and exhilarating change can be simultaneously.

None of them told you to choose one way or the other. They didn’t say ‘take the job’ or ‘turn down the job,’ they all said that the decision is one only you can make and that they’d support you no matter what you picked. And maybe each time you cried a little and all of them were good enough friends to just hug you and not mention it.

But all of them told you one thing that now sits lodged in your throat. Whatever else happens, you both deserve to know. Jongdae deserves the truth about what you’re considering, and you deserve to finally know once and for all how he feels about you and what he wants.

After he locks the doors and starts cleaning up, you rise, holding your hands behind your back so tightly your knuckles are most assuredly white. ‘Hey, can we talk for a minute?’

Jongdae nods. ‘Of course. I’ve got something I wanted to discuss with you as well, actually. But you go first.’ He folds his arms and leans against his desk, giving you that affectionate close-lipped smile of his. You desperately hope what you’re about to say doesn’t wipe it off his face.

Not one to beat around the bush you dive in. ‘I applied for another job.’ The words sound blunt and harsh. You swallow and try again, hating how his brow furrows in confusion. ‘Not because I don’t like it here. But Hitch told me about an opening and it sounded - sounds perfect for what I want to do in the long run. It’s on the new gaming system division… at Microsoft.’

He doesn’t say anything for a long pause. Instead of meeting your eyes his have dropped to the ground and you wish you could reach out and touch him. Anything to make sure he hears you, understands you. But a whisper of fear makes you keep quiet, worrying the connection you had wasn’t meant to last, if something so trivial could break it.

‘I thought you were happy here,’ he says finally.

You hold your hands out in front of you, palms up in a gesture of entreaty. ‘I do, Jongdae. It’s not that at all. I thought this might - be good for us. If we’re not working together, then -’

When he finally looks up his gaze is distant, his mouth a thin line. The shutters have fallen over his face. ‘By going to work at the one place I despise?’

Anger makes your skin hot and you fold your arms as well, in defiance. ‘But you talk to Hitch and Baekhyun? They haven’t turned into the devil incarnate yet.’

He gives a quick, harsh shrug. ‘I like them both, sure. But being friends is one thing. This is quite another.’

It’s almost a declaration, yet so far from how you dreamed this moment might go. ‘What are you saying, Jongdae?’ You need to hear it. After so many weeks of trying you need him to at least do you the courtesy of speaking it out loud.

‘You know how I feel about you.’ There’s hope in his eyes. But it’s so buried amongst hurt and suspicion it’s not even close to reassuring. ‘I want you to stay. Here.’ With me, he doesn’t say, but you feel it.

Nothing drives you more up the wall than being told what to do. His words fall against your own shield and the plea within goes unnoticed. ‘Would you really shut me off if I took this job? Does hating them mean more than wanting what’s best for me?’ You finally step forward, reaching a hand for his arm.

‘I’ve supported you in everything,’ you start, unable to stop now that you’ve started. ‘In finding community here. In your move. Even in the business, who was the one who pushed you to keep growing? I don’t intend to stop being there for you, but I need you to support me in this. Please.’

He just watches you, not saying a word. The clock on the wall ticks loudly in the silence. People outside the glass doors go about their day, shopping or getting an early dinner, unaware of the standoff taking place merely feet from them. You wonder what it would take to make his guard truly ever come down.

With how quickly it snapped back into place you feel tired all the way down to your bones. Maybe it will never be enough, even if you did stay here forever.

‘I’ll pay out your PTO in these next two weeks,’ he says softly. ‘No need to come back into the office. If that works for you?’ His last statement is thrown on as a hasty addendum. Like he’d realized how harsh it sounded and he wanted to dull the sting. It’s a sliver of kindness, a glimpse at the man he almost allowed himself to be. But it’s not enough.

‘Fine with me.’ You move past him, into the supply room to grab your purse and jacket, proud of the way your voice doesn’t waver. Pausing in the hallway you turn to look back at him, still frozen against his desk. ‘I’m leaving this job, I’m not leaving you.’

He turns to look at you, running a hand through his hair and messing up the ends. ‘It will go the same way, I know it. In the end you’ll disappear too.’

‘Jongdae, I’m trying. I need you to at least meet me halfway.’

You don’t wait for his reply, if one was ever even going to come. Instead you continue down the small hallway and push out the back door into the mall. It’s only once you’re in your car that you remember he mentioned something he wanted to discuss. You wonder what it was, and if you’ll ever find out.

Jongdae stares after you for long seconds after you’re gone. He doesn’t hold out hope that you’ll come back, not after the way he treated you. Instead he feels stuck in place, like if he holds his breath and doesn’t exhale then the last five minutes didn’t happen.

But his lungs burn and his chest aches, and when he finally sighs it comes out ragged. He fumbles for the switch and the store descends into darkness. Shafts of light still come through, angled in from the glass ceiling of the mall’s concourse. Jongdae stands just outside of it, protected. With no one to see he sinks into his desk chair and drops his head into his hands.

The tears that clog his throat are at first unexpected, but as the minutes drag on he finally gives into them. He should have known they were coming all along. Not just from the moment you walked into his life, but from the day his grandfather died. From the day his father passed and his mother became a ghost rather than a permanent, tangible figure. 

From the day Julian took Jongdae’s designs and credited them as his own to the investors, cutting Jongdae out of not only the business they were building, but out of their group of friends as well.

Misery and hopelessness whisper against his skin and for long minutes he lets himself wallow. He knows it’s no one’s fault but his own that he ruined things with you. His grandfather taught him long ago that other’s actions are theirs, and that it’s what Jongdae does in response that is his responsibility. But he can’t deny that he indulges in thoughts of blaming the cruelty of life for making him so goddamn stubborn.

He swallows and leans back in his chair, feeling as though his body is made of hard, unyielding stone. Maybe it's better this way, he wonders, drumming his fingers on the wood desk before him. Perhaps he should let his worst fears dominate his life, believing that the risk is far greater than any potential reward that love or friendship could offer him.

Is it better to be alone, knowing that he’ll always be safe, free of anyone who might hurt him?

Jongdae groans. The voice inside him that whispers No sounds first like his grandfather, both encouraging and feisty at the thought of Jongdae giving up. Next it sounds like you. He knows you’d roll your eyes and call him grouchy, always thinking better of him than he does of himself. You’d tell him his bark is far worse than his bite and to get over himself already. At this thought, at any thought of you, really, he smiles.

Familiar voices make him look out into the mall. Sehun and Jongin walk by carrying sodas, rubbing their stomachs. He can imagine how they’re complaining about eating too much Barada pizza, as always. 

They pass by quickly but the image stays with him, of their friendship. Jongdae thinks of Chanyeol and Kyungsoo’s, how opposite and yet how similar they are. Baekhyun and Hitch, who are always teasing each other but who he knows would do anything at the drop of a hat.

He’s held himself back the past few months. First a reluctant observer. Then a tentative participant. The endless exhaustion of being careful, keeping his distance, catches up to Jongdae as he sits in that chair. If it weren’t for you maybe he’d never be brave enough to try again after how hard it was growing up. But if he is to be the kind of person, the kind of partner you deserve, now is the time to make the attempt.

It’s up to Jongdae to be the one to try, to reach out. He can’t let others find him anymore. For the first time in a long time Jongdae stands up and goes looking for a friend.

Junmyeon still has an hour before his store closes and he looks up at Jongdae as he walks in through the door of Guardians. ‘Hey, JD! How’s it going?’ If he notices that Jongdae’s been crying, he’s kind enough to not mention it.

‘Are you busy?’ Jongdae’s throat is raw but Jun has a young son, surely tears won’t bother him.

‘Not really, I’m just organizing some shipments going out tomorrow,’ Junmyeon answers. He sets down his pencil and rests his hands on the counter. A crease forms between his brows the longer he watches Jongdae. ‘Is everything alright?’

He wants to do this right, but all he can find are inelegant words. Junmyeon is as close as he has to a best friend at the moment, and he hopes he doesn’t inconvenience him. ‘Not really.’

Jun tilts his head and gestures to the door, picking up Jongdae’s unspoken request and running with it, just like he’d hoped he would. ‘I can close up shop a bit early. Want to talk in my office?’

Jongdae runs a hand over his face and nods. Grateful and relieved he manages a small laugh. ‘That would be great, thanks.’

After Jun locks the doors and flips the sign to closed he motions for Jongdae to follow him. The back room of Guardians is much warmer that at Chen’s Electronics, in style rather than temperature. Jongdae sits on a beige sofa that’s even more comfortable than it looks. The walls are filled with framed photos and art prints and various other pieces that give the space an art gallery vibe.

With a sigh Junmyeon tidies up the mess of papers and crayons and various cups with kid lids. ‘Sorry, Sungmin loves to draw but we haven’t quite nailed the clean up yet.’

‘Don’t worry about it on my behalf,’ Jongdae says sincerely. ‘I’m just grateful you’re willing to listen.’

The space has a narrow hallway leading to a back door and a closet that’s probably full of supplies, much like Jongdae’s store. Jun takes the cups to a small sink in the mini-kitchen in the corner. His brow lifts in confusion. ‘Why wouldn’t I? We’re friends, right?’

Could it be that simple? No need to prove himself or do everything possible to impress Junmyeon, like he did with Julian. ‘Yeah, we are I suppose.’ He laughs and shakes his head. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to imply I don’t consider us friends, I just - well, have a few trust issues when it comes to that sort of thing.’

Junmyeon dries his hands on a dishtowel and blows his hair off his forehead with a huffed laugh. ‘We’ve all got a few issues, don’t we?’ He moves to the table and takes a seat, sliding a glass of water towards Jongdae and sipping from one of his own. ‘I’ve got the time. So quit stalling and tell me about yours.’

He sags into the couch and drinks from the glass. ‘Alright then.’

For once he doesn’t second guess himself or try to read the minutiae of Jun’s expressions to see if he’s annoying him or being too boring. Jongdae simply tells him the truth, trusting his friend to listen. 

He mentions his family and how hard it hit him when his grandfather passed. How strange and yet unbothered he is by the lack of relationship with his mother. The way he was teased growing up and how he was probably the only person in his Master’s program going through puberty. The fact that the mall is the first place he’s ever had friends his own age since childhood.

It’s satisfying to see how pissed off Jun gets when he tells him about Julian and all the bullshit he put Jongdae through. For a while there Jongdae had convinced himself that he was the one in the wrong, that there’d been something he’d done to earn his exile. That it was a deserved punishment. But his friend’s muttered curses remind him that true friends don’t normally backstab each other for money and notoriety.

And finally, he talks of you.

How much he values you at work and how sassy and insistent you were about bringing him into ‘the fold’ of their friend group. The ways in which he wants to be with you and care for you and all his worries of whether or not he’ll be any good at it, given his lack of experience. Junmyeon is neither surprised by his feelings for you nor willing to let him wallow.

‘I even brought prom tickets,’ Jongdae finishes with a groan. He pulls them from the pocket of his jeans and lets his arm fall to the couch cushion. ‘Me. At a prom.’ He almost snorts.

But Junmyeon just purses his lips. ‘Is that really such a stretch?’

Jongdae hums a noise of contemplation. ‘No. I guess not. All our friends are doing it.’ But before Jun can continue he shakes his head. ‘But I’ve messed this all up, so it doesn’t matter either way.’

Loneliness aches in his bones, his hands tired of not holding yours. Wishing he was enough, somehow, to keep you here and keep you warm; enough to make you stay, to make you happy.

Junmyeon raises a brow. ‘I think you’re missing the point entirely my friend. She told you what she needs. All you have to do is listen. She’s asking you to trust her. This job is something she’s worked for and she’s not leaving you for it. She’s just leaving the job. If you want to know you have to ask.’

He sighs deeply. ‘You’re right. But what if it all goes wrong? What if I try and it’s all for nothing in the end?’

Jun dips his chin to his chest, looking at the ground lost in thought. ‘That’s fair. I know a little of that myself, Jongdae. But all you can do is try. There’s sadly no guarantees here. I think you want to make it work and from what I know of her, she wants you as well. It’s time to make the big gesture. Or any kind of gesture, really.’

He groans and smiles, knowing his friend’s fondness for ‘I think you’re right.’ He even has an idea, two in fact. One that’s lived in the back of his mind for weeks and one that’s brewing right now. ‘Will you help me?’

‘Absolutely my friend.’ Jun claps him on the shoulder, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

November 19th, 1997

It should have been wonderful news to you that it was a clean break at least. No mess, just walking out the door and leaving behind the man and the job in one fell swoop. But of course, it wasn’t.

Microsoft was delighted when you told them you could start ASAP, but honestly you did it to jump into work rather than spend your time missing Jongdae. Filling your schedule proves to be the easiest way to avoid thinking about what hurts. You still had your roommates and Hitch and everyone else to hang out with, even if you weren’t ready for any Saturday pizza lunches or Shari’s nights quite yet. Both brought you far too close to him to bear right now.

Liz and Jane and Hitch are wonderful and you’ve had not one but two sleepovers since ‘the Jongdae incident.’ If not for their friendship and constant presence you’re sure you would have walled up the hurt and hid it away, not one to normally speak about your pain openly. Not while it’s so fresh. 

Distantly you hope that Jongdae is okay and that he has someone to talk to. If he’s even hurting. 

For all you know he’s completely fine and unaffected by the entire thing. Maybe he’s already found a new office manager and has forgotten about you. But those are the kind of rude and painful thoughts that only come to you at three in the morning when you can’t sleep, when dreams of his hands and his voice and his smile keep you up.

Jongdae calls one Tuesday to ask you to swing by Chen’s to pick something up the next day and you’re suspicious. He wouldn’t say any more, just ‘please come by at six. I have something to give you and I’d like it to be in person.’

You put on your favorite black dress and blazer that make you feel both sexy and confident and head to the mall. If he’s just calling you to twist the knife in deeper, you’ve already decided to leave and not bother letting him hurt you more. But if he’s calling to reconcile… you shake your head, not willing to get your hopes up. Instead you park in your old space and fix your make up in the rearview mirror.

It delights you to see that your old desk is returned to its former state. Just the computer, keyboard, and mouse remain. No one’s personal possessions have taken over the space like yours used to. It shouldn’t make you so happy to see he hasn’t replaced you, but it does.

Jongdae sits at his desk. His hair is in its usual perfect wave but his white button down and slacks have been swapped today for a dark green sweater and tan chinos. He looks ridiculously handsome and you grit your teeth, wishing you could turn off your attraction to him with a switch inside your brain.

He looks up at your knock on the glass door. For a moment he simply stands, drinking you in. Then he moves, walking closer to unlock the door and let you in. 

‘Hi. How are you?’

You blink and try not to laugh. ‘How am I? Jongdae, how do you think I am?’

‘Right, sorry.’ He shakes his head. Carefully he looks you up and down, not bothering to hide his own attraction to you in his hungry gaze. With a swallow he remembers himself and grabs a cardboard banker’s box from in front of his desk. ‘Here. I didn’t want to come by and drop it off. It felt wrong.’

The box holds all the random photos and personal belongings you’d left in your desk, in your haste to leave. Postcards from Amsterdam and family photos and lotions and your favorite scarf you’d been missing. He steps back, resting against the corner of his desk and folding his arms. When you take it he doesn’t say anything, which is not what you’d hoped by any means, but silence is definitely less painful than you’d feared.

‘Well, it’s been an adventure,’ you manage. You lean against your desk and move the box under one arm, holding out a hand to him to shake. Ready to be done with this officially.

He doesn’t move. You can feel words held on the tip of his tongue. Months and months later you know how to read his tells. The tightness in his jaw and the widening of his eyes and how his hand grips the fabric of his sweater. But seconds tick on and still he says nothing. 

He should speak or you should leave. One of you should do something. Instead you’re frozen in time. Eventually your arm aches and you set the box down beside you. You could go first, but pride demands he be the one to confess, if there’s going to be any confessions tonight.

Neither of you caves; twin pillars of resolution, stubbornness, and desire. It’s a game the two of you could play for hours. The tension in the air pulls tighter than a violin. His gaze drops from your eyes to your lips, unabashedly. His lids grow heavy as he breathes deeply, close enough to smell your gardenia perfume, but just out of reach of being able to touch you.

So this is what it feels like to meet my match, you think, finally acknowledging just how deeply you want him. Enough nights had been spent imagining kissing him, being with him in far more intimate ways than just a holding of hands or a hug. You want more, but only if he wants you, too.

You'd always been told that you were too driven, too smart, too self-sufficient to attract a man. Even in your MBA program where ambition and intelligence were supposedly rewarded, it apparently made you too something to find a good man to date.

But now there’s one right in front of you, looking at you as if you’re the answer to Fermat’s Enigma; a rare and priceless gem he’d been hunting for all his life. But he doesn’t look at you as if you’re art to be admired, a prize to be won. The guard lifts steadily and when he looks at you now it’s as if you’re the kind of miracle he wants to sink his teeth, his tongue, and his fingers into.

Your cheeks grow warm and you’re sure you look just as amazed and turned on as he does. If you had to guess, you’d bet that the number of people who challenge him these days are few, and the number of people who attempt to see the man behind the curtain even fewer.

While everyone else in the world might just see a monolith of a man, a genius, a hardworking and brilliant anomaly, you see the passionate, warm heart that beats in his chest. You know that the tin man really does have feelings and needs, and your heart almost breaks when you realize he’s been searching for you just as fervently as you’ve been searching for someone like him.

The silence in the room is almost too fragile a thing to break. On one side of the moment is a spark of something, a chance to see if this connection is real and deep, or if this is just chemistry and biology combining into lust. If your mind has taken the small gestures of passion and kindness and friendship from him and built it up to be something more than the sum of its parts.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he breathes, voice catching in his throat. Releasing his folded arms he rests his palms on the edges of the desk.

‘I’ve missed you, too,’ you admit. Your hands curl in on themselves, trying to fight the way emotion and physical longing make it difficult to be in such a close proximity to him.

‘Okay, then.’ He breaks first, moving with purpose and striding to you in two steps, sliding his hands along your jaw with such softness that you gasp. 

And then, finally, you feel his lips on yours. You grasp his hips, hands freed and aching to touch him, to feel his hard body press against yours with surprising heat.

You meet him with equal passion, working your lips against his steady assault on your composure. For a solid minute you’re in awe that you could feel this much, that his lips and his hands could undo you so rapidly. That they could rebuild you into someone who belongs to him in such a short space of time, after weeks of endless doubt.

He groans against your lips in what feels like similar shock and surrender. Who would have thought that he would cave to your touch just as you did to his? How could someone so grumpy and strong-willed also be so open and vulnerable to this tentative thing between you.

But as he drops a hand and brings it to rest securely on the small of your back you realize there’s a name for this feeling.

You could call it fate. You could call it destiny. You could call it that damned four-letter word or you could call it Darwinism for all you care as his teeth bite gently into your lower lip.

You just know that nothing has ever felt as good and right as his hands claiming you for his own and the smell and heat of him wrapping themselves around you and burrowing their way into your heart.

A whine works its way from your throat as he licks along the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. When you open your mouth to him, his tongue slides along your own and you almost lose your balance. With a giggle you could swear you’ve never made before in your life you let him guide you up onto the desk.

He steps between your legs instantly, gripping your hips and continuing his tasting of you. Heat and electricity race down your spine as you fist your hands in his hair, pulling him closer to you until there’s no separation.

Banging on the glass doors and whistles come from out in the mall and you freeze. Instead of jerking back in shock and alarm like you’d expect him to, Jongdae confounds you once again. He pulls back slowly, opening his eyes and lifting his hands to gently cup your face. It can’t have been more than fifteen minutes but in less than the time it takes to watch one episode of Friends he’s turned your world on its axis.

You and Jongdae smile at each other and both turn to wave at your group of friends, who are celebrating and clapping. Baekhyun eats from an enormous bag of popcorn, wearing his theater uniform. Jongin and Sehun take large handfuls and Hitch whoops with joy. Liz and Jane and Junmyeon are all smiling, and attempt to force some of the group away to give you privacy.

Jongdae’s hands flex on your waist. ‘I want to try. You’re everything I want, will you please give me the chance to be what you need?’ His voice is raspy and his lips are red and you can’t help but grin.

‘I just want you, okay?’ You fix his messed up hair with both hands and sigh with relief. ‘And for you to admit you like me.’

‘I far more than like you.’ Jongdae rolls his eyes and kisses you once more. ‘You just want me to say you’re right.’

With a laugh you ease yourself off your desk, standing close within his arms and bending to whisper in his ear. ‘I’m always right. I just love when you admit it.’

‘So,’ he starts with an amused quirk of an eyebrow. ‘Will you let me take you to dinner? Us, officially, on a date.’

Your chest feels as if it’s a balloon, expanding so rapidly it might burst. He looks so young and boyish and hopeful your heart feels like it turns to liquid gold. With a delighted grin you lean forward and press your lips to his again, unable to resist.

Joy swims in his irises as he holds you in his arms. He looks at you through his lashes, his lips tilting into lopsided smile. ‘Is that a yes, then?’

‘Yes,’ you answer. ‘Of course.’

‘How’s right now for you?’ He motions to the doors and your friends have finally been corralled to the side of the walkway, revealing an elaborately decorated table in the food court.

You gasp and grip his arm. Jun and Sehun hold the doors open and Jongdae escorts you out. A red tablecloth is spread out over the circular table. The chairs have added plush cushions and several candles have been lit. A bottle of wine and two glasses rest beside several plates of food. You recognize the pizza from Barada, the rest looks like a mix from the other restaurants in the food court. 

With high fives and hugs from your friends they finally leave you and Jongdae alone. Well, almost alone. It’s not a busy time at the mall, but there’s no way to avoid some of the customers turning to watch with amusement and curiosity as they pass by. You pay them no mind as Jongdae holds out your chair and helps you sit. 

The two of you fall back into conversation easy enough, aided by the enormous amount of food and how you no longer have to move your knees away when they bump under the table. Jongdae reaches for your hand and holds it, in full view. He stares at the joined digits with warmth before looking up at you. 

Doubt passes across his face, marring the beauty that contentment lends his features. ‘I don’t -’ he struggles. ‘I don’t know how to keep this much good in my life. I worry that I’m going to mess it up.’

Neither of you are the type to openly acknowledge such things. Merely the fact that he’s voicing his fears to you shows you he’s doing what he said - he’s trying, he wants to change. And truthfully so do you. 

‘I worried for the longest time that I’d be alone forever,’ you say softly. ‘I didn’t think I’d ever find someone who understood me or who could handle all my - well, you know how I am.’ 

Jongdae smiles then, lifting your joined hands to his lips to press a kiss to your skin. ‘I love who you are.’ 

Your eyes mist at that and you groan, trying to blink them back. ‘Good, because I love who you are too.’ With your free hand you reach for his, needing to hold both of them and all of him at once. Not wanting to give his overly-analytical mind a chance to override the fragile hope you’re both building tonight. ‘You know what to do when a computer overloads?’

He nods. ‘Of course. Often it’s just a simple matter of turning it off and on again.’

‘So,’ you say, lifting your shoulder in a shrug. ‘When we mess up or freak out or say the wrong thing, we’ll just start over again. As long as you want me and I want you, we’ll figure it out.’ 

Jongdae softens, his shoulders dropping and ease coming back into his eyes. ‘I didn’t know I was lagging until you jump started my life.’ He waggles his brows. It’s a gesture that’s all Baekhyun, and a pun so terrible that Junmyeon would be proud. You can’t help but laugh and squeeze his hands. 

‘I’ve got one more surprise,’ Jongdae says, reluctantly releasing one of your hands to pull two narrow slips of paper from his pocket. ‘Do you have any plans for Christmas?’ 

The tickets are in both your names. First class round trip from Seattle to Amsterdam. ‘Oh my - Jongdae, what is this? You and me in Amsterdam?’ 

‘I figured it was about time,’ he says with pride. 

You lean out of your chair and reach for him, tugging him closer to kiss him fully. Noise reaches you - clapping and cheering from the shops around the mall. When you look around you see Sehun and his girlfriend leaning out of Starlight Apparel. Chanyeol and Kyungsoo smiling and fist bumping as they work on closing up the shop. 

Hitch nudges Baekhyun from the theater booth and he jumps in excitement. And from Guardians Junmyeon leans on the counter, resting his chin in his hand, giving a thumbs up. 

You roll your eyes and wave. ‘We maybe should have gone somewhere outside the mall, huh?’

'No, I think this is perfect,’ Jongdae answers. He then covers your mouth with his and holds you so tight that it drowns out the chorus of cheering that echos around the space. 

[sunkissedpages]

idk if you're taking requests but I would die to have a tom x bi!fem!reader I guess I never read one. like something with her ex girlfriend calling and him getting jealous. treating this as a normal thing CAUSE IT SHOULD BE A NORMAL THING. sorry my bi-self its kinda angry today lol. BTW you're writing its just... omg so good, you're freaking talented girl!

you had me at bi!reader lol also yes i named the ex after jade from victorious don’t @ me  

i’m also tempted to make a nsfw version of this but...

warnings: swearing, drug mention

You sighed when the music you had been playing in Tom’s car cut off suddenly and reached up to reject the incoming call, but froze when you saw “j (don’t answer!!!)” pop up as the Caller ID. Your thumb hovered over the End Call button, hesitating for a second too long before finally tapping it and swiping away the notification. You held your breath as the music came back on, hoping your boyfriend hadn’t noticed your reaction. But he knew you better than you knew yourself and picked up on your nerves instantly. 

“Who was that?”

You cursed under your breath and sunk further into your seat. “Oh, uh, just... Jade.”

A spark of recognition lit up behind his warm, brown eyes and he pursed his lips. “Jade? Your ex-girlfriend?”

“That’s the one,” you confirmed, nodding. 

“Why is she calling you?”

You shrugged and tried to play it off. “I don’t know.”

To be fair, you didn’t know why she was calling, but you knew it had to be important if she was reaching out at all. Your relationship hadn’t ended on the best of terms all those months ago, and there was still the dull ache of what was associated with her name. You didn’t want to talk to her. And you really didn’t want Tom to watch you talk to her.

“Should you... call her back?” he asked.

“No,” you answered a little too quickly, averting your eyes from your boyfriend’s gaze. “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You were about to reply when the Incoming Call notification popped up on the Audi’s touchscreen display again. You muttered fuck under your breath and pressed the answer button against your better judgment, worried that she might be in some sort of trouble.

“Hello?”

“Hey, y/n,” her voice echoed through the speakers softly and you had to force yourself to take a breath before responding so your voice wouldn’t shake.

“Uh, Jade. Um, is everything okay?”

You glanced over at Tom who was focused on the road. He appeared to be as calm and composed as ever, but his grip on the steering wheel gave his true feelings away. His knuckles were turning white around the dark leather and the seams were pressing into his skin. You reached out and put a hand on his thigh in an attempt to calm both his and your own nerves. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Jade said after a moment, clearing her throat awkwardly. “Actually, no it’s not.”

“Oh, what’s up?”

“Do you remember our shitty landlord back at Monty’s?” she asked.

“How could I forget?” you laughed bitterly, even though it was all you wanted to do. “That asshole tried to make us pay double rent like six different times, claiming we hadn’t already paid it.”

“He was also homophobic as hell,” Jade added. 

“And creepy.”

Jade laughed and those old, fluttery feelings in the pit of your stomach threatened to surface again. It was the effect she always had on you and apparently still did, at least in some capacity. Guilt began to set in when you felt yourself smile listening to her laugh and you retracted your hand from Tom’s leg. 

“But why do you ask?”

“Oh, right. He’s being a dick about the faucet in our- my bathroom. It’s leaking and he won’t fix it because he says it’s my fault that it’s broken in the first place.”

You hadn’t realized Jade still lived in that old apartment you used to share. Maybe you should have guessed, since you had been the one to move out when things ended, but it had been so long ago that you had just assumed she was living somewhere else now. You wondered if she had taken other people home there, if there was someone different sleeping in your spot on the bed every night, cooking for her like you used to-

“Anyway,” she went on, snapping you out of it, “it’s bullshit. It’s leaking because it’s old, not because I did anything to it. But he always listened to you because you were better at sweet-talking him. I’m... too bitchy, I guess. I know it’s a lot to ask after everything that happened between us, but I was wondering if you could maybe... give him a call? And ask him to fix it?”

Tom looked over at you with eyebrows raised expectantly, him and Jade both waiting for your answer. 

“Yeah, I can give him a call,” you sighed reluctantly. “But if he says no, I’m not asking again.”

“Oh my god thank you, y/n,” she gushed. “You’re the best! I-I wouldn’t have called, but the leak has already damaged part of the floor and he’s dodging me-”

“You don’t have to explain it all. I’ll call him, okay?”

“Okay, okay. Thank you so much. You’re a fucking lifesaver.” 

“Don’t mention it,” you said, “I’ll uh, I’ll text you to let you know what he says.”

“Sounds good!” she chirped. “Hey, if everything goes well you should let me smoke you out as a thank you.”

“Oh,” you paused, glancing back at Tom who wasn’t even hiding his scowl now. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Well the offer’s open if you ever want to take me up on it. Ya know, for old time’s sake.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you promised.

“Okay,” she said with a sigh, “I’ll let you go now... it was nice hearing from you again.”

“Yeah, likewise,” you lied through gritted teeth and hung up, finally feeling like you could exhale.

Your music started playing automatically again once the call had ended, but Tom turned it down immediately, clearly distracted.

Your head was still reeling from the conversation you’d just had and you would need three to five business days to process it, but you knew you had to say something to Tom. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but his jaw was clenched like it was when he was upset so you knew it couldn’t be good. 

“I’m... sorry if that was weird for you,” you tried. “I know it was weird for me.”

Tom turned his head toward in surprise, as if he hadn’t been expecting you to say anything, and his eyes softened immediately. “Are you okay, love?” 

“Yeah,” you said and nodded like you were trying to convince yourself too, “I think so.” 

“You sure?”

You nodded again, then asked him the same. “Are you okay?”

He took a deep breath. “I’m trying to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, my girlfriend’s ex just called her out of the blue and basically asked to hook up with her right in front of me, so I’ve been better.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s jealousy and settled for crossing your arms over your chest instead. “Tom, she did not ask to hook up with me. Were we listening to the same conversation?”

“It wasn’t that hard to read between the lines, y/n. ‘You should let me smoke you out as a thank you’, like that wasn’t just straight-up flirting. She was obviously using the god damn faucet as an excuse just to talk to you again.” 

“I-” 

He wasn’t wrong, and evidently you both knew that. The faucet might have been a legitimate issue, but it was an awfully convenient one too. You brought your thumb to your mouth and started chewing on your nail anxiously, not even realizing you were doing so until Tom gently pulled your hand away. 

“Sorry,” you murmured. 

“No, darling, don’t apologize,” he insisted. “I know it was probably difficult to hear from her after so long, and I, I’m not making it any fucking easier. I just got in my head about things... because your relationship with her was so serious and it lasted for like two years and you lived together and we’ve only been dating for a few months-"

You sighed and leaned over the center console to rest your head on his shoulder. “All of that may be true, but you know I would never go back to her, right?”

He paused for a moment before finally nodding. “I do.”

“She’s my past. You’re my future.”

Tom smiled and leaned down to kiss you on the forehead. “And you’re mine. For as long as you want to be.”

[black-dragon1998]

New trainer (Kelley O’Hara x reader)

Summary: After being away for two years, the reader finally comes home to Kelley.

Warnings: sorry for any miss use of military terms. sorry for any mistakes written.

Thanks for reading and comments are always welcome.

“you are the reason I wake up every morning, the reason I want to come home every night. See you soon love <3” Kelley read the message for what had to be the mullioned time. (Y/N) had been overseas for the last two years and Kelley missed her every day.

They face-timed every chance they got even so, (Y/N) being in the army in another country and Kelley being on national camp. Meant those chances were few and far between.

It had been so long since they had seen each other that the other players on the team didn’t even know Kelley was dating. The only one who knew was Alex even nevertheless she knew not to mention it or Kelley’s mood would go south swift with how much she missed her girlfriend.

 “heard anything new?” Kelley was pulled out of her thoughts by Alex who was sitting next to her on the bus. Alex knew how much her best friend missed the love of her life and wanted to lighten the pain in any way possible.

“no. last I heard her squat had to stay behind because the region was unstable and she didn’t know when she would be sent home. Or even when we would be talking the next time.” Kelley had to swallow hard to keep her emotions in check, not wanting the other women to see her cry and worry about her.

Luckily the bus was rowdy enough that their conversation wasn’t overheard by the other players. Sonnett was busy blasting music and pestering the others for no real reason.

 The national team had a day off before the world cup camp started and they decided to go paintballing as a team bonding. Teams had been made at the hotel, if Kelley was being honest she didn’t pay attention. She was to occupied by the message she had received from you. This meant she didn’t know who was on her team.

After the bus stopped everybody got off the bus and into tactical gear very easily and were getting a safety talk before they were let onto the field to play the game. Vlatko also wanted to talk to the team before they became their competitive self.

“I know teams have been made at the hotel already but I have been informed by the staff that a special game is being prepared for you.” Hearing this caught the attention of the team.

“what special game are we talking about?” Julie asked with a critical eye. Ever the level head of the group. Vlatko was happy everybody seemed eager to at something extra to the game.

“While you guys are playing against each other one person is out hunting all of you. Even if they don’t belong to any team they can take out everybody. The person taking out this mystery person gets a special price.” The mention of a special price got everybody excited.

“How will we know that we have been shot by this mystery person and not somebody from the other team?” Ali asked, trying to keep Ash calm before the game.

“Unlike the coloured paintballs, they shoot with black paintballs.” Vlatko told them. After everybody was given guns they split up

 Both teams were so immersed in defeating or upscaling the other world that they completely forgot about the mystery person playing with them. The mystery person moved around undetected as they observed the teams looking who they could take out first.

After looking around a bit they decided to go after Emily and Lindsey first. Emily was her thunderous even id she tried not to be thus easily found. As the mystery person looked at the smaller blond they could see why they worked with Kelley so well.

Emily was shot in the chest and Lindsey in the right shoulder.

Next came Ashlyn and Ali. The couple was well coordinated as they moved around, but again no match for the mystery person. Ash was hit in the stomach and while Ali was doting over her down wife she was hit in the back.

Than came Christen and Tobin, Alyssa and Becky, Mal and Teirna, Rose and Sam, Juli and Crystal, Carli and Megan.

The last two left where Kelley and Alex. Juli and Crystal informed them about this when they passed them. Kelley and Alex who were already on their guard had their senses even more heightened.

Kelley even had the feeling of being watched and could swear she heard branches break around her. Alex told her she was being paranoid. Just as the statement left her mouth she was hit in the stomach by a black paintball.

Kelly immediately dived for cover when a paintball hit a nearby tree. Gun razed the defender peered around the tree to see if she saw anything.

Not noticing the shadow creeping up behind her, hitting her once on each ass cheek. Kelley quickly turns around to catch a glimpse of the shooter but saw nobody.

After a loud horn goes off signalling the end of the game and all the girls sulk back into the changing rooms. Complaining about being taken out in the ways they were.

 Everybody was groaning and being grumpy about the game when Vlatko walked in. being the only person knowing it would end like this. Knowing the identity of the mystery person. He knew they would be unhappy, he wasn’t expecting them to be pouting.

“well girls how did the game go?” it was a rhetorical question, on their faces, he could read how good it went.

“great if you look past that we all got our asses handed to us by a single person. Want that seems to be invisible.” Sonnet remarked. Vlatko could barely contain his chuckle.

“I can assure you I am anything but invisible.” A voice responded from behind Vlatko

Kelley froze at hearing the voice. It couldn’t be her. Kelley thought she was imagining things. You couldn’t be here. Vlatko talking on was what pulled her out of her trance.

“Ladies I like you to meet your new endurance trainer, sergeant (Y/N) (L/N).” Kelley flings herself at the woman when she heard her name. tears spring in Kelley’s eyes when she looks at you.

You are taller than her, with broad muscles shoulders. You are clad in camouflage gear, probably helping you stay hidden in the bushes.

“you’re here. You are here.” Kelley breaths into your shoulder as she keeps hugging you. You hug her back and kiss the side of her head. For the first time in ages, you feel home and safe.

“I’m here love and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” You tell her. It takes a moment before your words sink in but when they do. Kelley looks up at you with a massive grin on her face.

“so you don’t have to go back?”

“I’m not going back. I was honourably discharged two days ago.” The massive grin on Kelley’s face almost split her face. She kisses you passionately, a kiss you reciprocate immediately.

The happy bubble the two of you had created around you two was broken when the team swarmed the two of you. Seeing you with Kelley made them forget about the slaughter that was the paintball game.

Emily Sonnet was the first to speak being too hyped about the new person in the family.

“you know this behemoth of a woman?” the blond asked looking up at you, earning a slap on the head from Lindsey. This made you chuckle, she reminded you a lot of Kelley. Whispering so much to Kelley earning a slap on the chest from her.

“care to introduce us, Kelley?” Christen asks, trying with the rest of the veterans to rail in the youngsters of the group. Turning around with Kelley still in your arms you were met with twenty curious faces looking at you. You felled a little uneasy with all eyes on you.

Kelley felled your tattooed arms flex around her and gave them a little squeeze to reassure you.

“Guy’s I like you to meet (Y/N) my girlfriend.” The moment girlfriend left Kelley’s mouth the room seemed to explode.

“GIRLFRIEND!” the same word was yelled by over a dozen women at once. Together with.

“Why didn’t you tell us you had a girlfriend?”  you were a little taken back at this, you didn’t know Kelley hadn’t told her team about your relationship. Was she ashamed of you maybe?

“Quiet!” Alex yelled, you gave her a thankful smile. Nobody seemed to want to go against that woman.

Kelley looked down at the ground when she spoke. The reason why was a deep-rooted fear of losing you.

“I didn’t tell anybody because she was overseas for two years and in those two years I didn’t even know if she was coming home or not.” Emotions suddenly overtook you. I didn’t know she had it this hard with me overseas. In all ore conversations, she never let I shiny out that it was this hard on her.

“oh, Kelley. I am so sorry I put you through that.” You turn Kelley around so she is facing you and take her chin between your fingers to gently make her look up at you. Big brown eyes look up at you, littered with unshed tears.

“you have to believe me when I tell you that every day in those two years you are the only reason I got through every shitty thing happening. You were the reason I wanted to come home.” This time you couldn’t help the little crack in your voice. The woman in your arms had a knack of turning you into a big softy.

Instead of answering Kelley pulled you into a passionate kiss that the two of you got lost in completely.

After the heavy moment passed the lighter mood returned and the girls started asking questions. Julie even threatened you, that if you ever hurt Kelley in any way she would find you and hurt you.

It must have been funny to see a soccer player not even reaching your shoulders make you take a step back.

After seeing you weren’t a complete hardass Emily saw it fit to teas.

“so (Y/N), because you are Kelley’s girlfriend those that mean you are going to go easy on us?” you couldn’t help but laugh at the bubbly blond. Not even into first training and she was already asking to slack off. Kelley was smirking knowing you crazy work out habits.

“Well…”

PART 2

Want to support me Buy me a Ko-fi 

[daisybeewrites]

Academy Blues — Prologue

word count: 1.8k

warnings: not any for this chapter

ship: Dousy, background Fitzsimmons and Philinda

okay y’all.. here it is. the first installment of my first LONG TERM SERIES!!!!!! ahhhh i’m so excited. literally i cant wait to continue this and see where it takes me. i have an idea and a few different planning sheets, but honestly i have no idea where exactly this will end up. i love each and single one of you <3 thank you for reading!! this is also posted on Ao3, and linked in the masterlist.

Daisy hated the sound of the bells at The Academy. Screeching, awful, way too loud, the bells were the bane of her existence. They all wore standard-issue watches from the lab that monitored vitals and gave them reminders, and also told the time, for god’s sake! Fitz had even modified hers so that she could play snake on the tiny watch face! There was no need for the bells to be so excruciatingly disruptive. Though, Daisy guessed, there were many things more tortuous than bells ringing every hour and fifteen minutes.

Daisy slowed to a jog, cutting her morning run short. The bright side to being a third-year was that you chose your schedule, for the most part, and that meant Daisy had a free first period for four out of five days of classes. She usually spent this free period getting an extra hour in at the gym, boxing or sparring with Mack or Bobbi, two fourth years that had reluctantly taken her under their wings, or sleeping in. She reserved sleeping in for especially rough nights where visions of ashes and earthquakes and lightning returned time and time again, no matter how many deep breaths she took or sheep she counted.

But this morning was not one of those mornings. She had been up before sunrise, a little before her usual alarm and silently headed out of her dorm for a run. It was humid this time of year on most Virginia mornings, but never so hot that it made Daisy feel as if she was being smothered. The cooler air chilled her sweaty skin, her chest rising and falling as she jogged up the three flights of steps to the second years’ dorms. Down one long hallway, and she arrived at her room.

Daisy had been given her own room at the start of last year, complete with poly-adaptic-proto-whatever panels, which she had painted a pastel shade of purple, to compliment the greens of her cacti and the dark purples and blacks of everything else in her room. Even May had agreed that the stark white was too ”psych wing” for a bedroom. Daisy was grateful for the space, but considering the panels and the private room were only necessary since...

She shuddered. Grabbing her shower caddy, Daisy set off to the bathroom at the opposite end of the hall, hoping no one else was spending a free first period at the dorms.

Her shoulder-length waves were wet from bouncing against her neck, and starting to become annoying now that the sweat had dried and was starting to itch. Picking the white tiled shower furthest away from the door, Daisy quickly turned the water on, checked the temperature, pulled her sports bra and shorts off and hopped into the shower. Shampoo, condition, soap body, rinse. Checking her watch, Daisy found that she had showered in record time, less than three minutes. After spending another five just enjoying the hot water, she hopped out and changed into her class clothes.

Dark purple leggings, Coulson’s grey vintage SHIELD tee and a pair of white running sneakers she had “borrowed” from Jemma completed her look. Passing the mirrors, Daisy tried not to glance at herself. If her hair was messy or her undereye bags a bit too dark, she didn’t want to know. Instead, she headed back to her room to pack her bag for the day.

SHIELD-issued laptop, extra hard drives and a charger, Advanced CS 3: Ethical Hacking: Theory and Application, Advanced CS 4: Secrets of The Coding Languages, Physics notebook, an essay that was three days late on some boring book about international laws, and her sparring gear were all thrown into the black bag. She gave a second glance at the Russian notebooks Bobbi had loaned to her, promising that she’d learn without taking the class. Oh well, she still had all of this term to start. Plus, would she ever really need more than the dirty words?

One look at the alarm clock that sat on her dark hardwood night table showed that she still had almost forty-five minutes before she had to be in the computer lab. Sitting down on her bed, Daisy ran a hand over the grey blanket May had given her.

Daisy’s relationship with May and Coulson had been something of a problem with other students when she first got here. Some had been okay with the obvious paternal love Coulson showed for Daisy, showing her around and checking up on her, scheduling lunch dates and reminding her of tests. May was more subtle, texting her links to tai chi videos when she noticed Daisy getting too stressed or letting Daisy do her own thing if she saw that she was overwhelmed. Of course, none of the other students knew her family history, what she had gone through just to realize that May and Coulson were more her parents than her biological father and mother could ever be. She would see them later today—May during field training and Coulson in between lectures in the canteen.

Daisy walked over to her window to open her blinds, staring out at the campus she had grown to love. The large brick buildings scattered around acres of the Virginia countryside; green fields meant for physical activities like sparring or obstacle courses, or simply basking in the weather to study or chat; the dorms—red brick and concrete melded together to upgrade and expand the charming style of previously-built homes.

Grabbing a protein bar, Daisy headed to the canteen to make a green smoothie (and maybe snatch a cup of joe before she had to listen to an hour-long lecture on the reason SHIELD must cooperate with the UN’s stupid rules at 7:30 in the morning). Smelling the pines and morning dew surrounding her, she smiled slightly. Maybe this term wouldn’t be so bad.

———————————————————————

Daniel Sousa was a man of honor. He was a man of great strength. Agent Daniel Sousa, previously Officer Daniel Sousa in the US Army, was a man who could fix his damn alarm clock on his own.

Just, not today. Or the day before.

So, Agent Daniel Sousa was now hurrying his way to class at The SHIELD Academy, books in hand and gym bag slung over his shoulders. Catching a glance at himself in the shiny glass doors of the bio-chem building, he groaned. He hadn’t even brushed his hair. And, looking down, he discovered he was wearing two different shoes.

This is the college experience everyone raves about, he thought bitterly. You see, Daniel Sousa had enlisted to the army straight out of high school, forgoing university. He climbed the ranks impressively quickly, earning his place as second-in-command and reconnaissance scout in the 28th Infantry Regiment. Unfortunately, after only four years in the army, Sousa was injured in the field, losing his leg and almost his life.

He came back to the US a war hero, and yet, he felt he wasn't finished. So, when a recruiter named Peggy Carter knocked on his door claiming to be from SHIELD (“Wow, you guys are still a thing?”), he leapt at the chance to continue fighti-...doing good. The Academy wasn’t exactly what he had bargained for, though. Trying to earn his B.A. and training to be an agent at the same time was grueling, but nothing he couldn’t deal with.

No, six different one hour and fifteen minute long classes plus mandatory physical therapy every day wasn’t going to break him. Learning how to be a communications agent and re-starting field training and catching up on general college education was no problem. Pressuring himself to be the best, to break the limits, to get past all his weaknesses was just another miniscule feather to add to the pile.

Unless his stupid alarm clock broke. Then yes, Agent Daniel Sousa would fail, buckle under the weight and be left on the floor to die.

Maybe he was being a bit dramatic.

One bunny-slippered right foot and a sneakered left leg carried him forward, propelled by a quickly chugged orange Celsius and his sheer will not to be late.

Daniel heard the late bell ring out, understanding that, on his first day of class, he would be counted late. It wasn’t like him, not at all. Especially when his first class was a refresher course on field tactics and covert strategy, something in which he was already aces.

He let out a sigh, slowing as he rounded the corner into the comms building. At the Academy, most buildings were grouped into categories: the cafeteria, gym and pool, and student resource building all to the south; the gun range, obstacle course, and specialized gym to the east; bio-chem labs, tech labs, and smaller rooms for lectures to the west; the computer labs and comms buildings right smack in the middle; and dorms to the north.

He swiped a key card with his driver’s license picture and student ID, unlocking the sliding doors that led to the computer labs. It was quicker to short cut through them than to walk around the building to the entrance closest to communications classrooms.

It wasn’t because he knew a certain broody brunette spent her mornings in the lab.

No, it wasn’t, because she wasn’t in her usual seat in the corner, typing away.

He slowly walked through the rows of computers, searching for a familiar black backpack. Nothing was there.

“Hey, Sousa,” an accented female voice called behind him. He whipped around to see who it was, feeling just a twinge of disappointment when Elena, or, as most people knew her, Yo-Yo, was leaning against the door frame. Yo-Yo, a fourth year operations trainee, who was very close with Daisy.

“Hey, Yo-Yo. Good morning,” he called, “I’m running a bit late.”

Elena checked her nails casually, “Way to state the obvious. You were running faster than I could trying to get here before the bell.”

Daniel rubbed the back of his neck and blushed. “Yeah…”

“Daisy’s running late today, too.”

Daniel looked around, pretending that hearing Daisy’s name didn’t make him want to smile. “Oh, of course. She’s usually here early.”

Elena nodded, chuckling a little at his response. She couldn’t tell if he was oblivious or just a bad liar. It was charming, really. “Right. See ya ‘round, Sousa!”

“See ya,” He replied. He thought he heard a quiet ‘Lovable nerds’ coming from the direction she left, but he couldn’t be sure.

And so, with a last look around the computer lab, Daniel set off to arrive late to May’s lecture.

———————————————————————

okay okay,,, what do y’all think?? like/reblog and let me know! it’s the best way to support writers and it only takes a second! stay tuned for more chapters!!

[reyeslonestar]

Question what are some things you wanna see in season 3 of lone star? Character development, plots, anything

I want to see Tonya Kong write every episode. that's all. thanks for asking!

-

sadfkja I joke, I do have other ideas, but that is definitely high on my wish list! i'm gonna go through by character and talk about what I'd like to see for them, so this is gonna get quite long whoops...

the main thing that I'd like to see overall, though, would be evidence of an overarching season plan or arc - it doesnt necessarily have to be a plot that stretches through all the episodes or anything major, but I'd love them to have plotted out the season before they start. from watching this season and then reading interviews after the finale, they dont appear to plan many things from the start and end up throwing in ideas as they go along. if they plan it from the start they can foresee how theyre going to affect character development more, and they can have a bit more balance in the types of episodes they have, so that the season is less insane and more naturally ebb-and-flow with a few light episodes to break up the drama.

okay, onto the characters! just going to do this in billing order for simplicity's sake. customary reminder that these are just my own opinions and thoughts, and this is more of a wish list than a realistic expectation.

if you want to search for a specific character, ctrl F for one of these terms including the dash at the start:

-Owen

-Tommy

-TK

-Grace

-Judd

-Marjan

-Paul

-Carlos

-Mateo

-Nancy

press “j” to skip the whole post.

-Owen

okay so I'd love to see them actually develop his character. Owen has been given a lot of backstory with lots to play with development-wise, but to me it feels like the show never goes anywhere with it. he's got a lot going on what with 9/11, feeling responsible for the fates of his fellow firefighters, the codependence of his relationships etc. I'd like to see him go to therapy and see him grow some self awareness and seek to manage himself better, rather than all his screentime devoted to him being a hero when other characters have the situation handled. it would really show him as a good leader if he drew on the skills that his team has and refer to them for advice/ideas. realistically he is the main character, so I'd like them to develop him like one.

also, I kind of love the chief role for him? I think it would suit him really well. but it would drag him away from the 126 and split up the dynamics too much so it would make for bad tv and I wouldnt actually want to see that. good for his character though.

-Tommy

I love Tommy :) just wanted to say that.

so obviously Tommy's got a lot of grief to handle next season, and I don't want them to shy away from that. I want it acknowledged and processed. (I'd also like a little bit of seeing the twins' grief too, because they're also suffering a massive loss). maybe something with Judd helping Tommy learn to manage her grief with his own experience of losing the original 126, encourage her to go to therapy, plus Tommy, Grace and Judd all feeling the loss of Charles together. after all, Grace and Judd were his friends and they will be grieving too.

I'd also kind of like to see Tommy have something outside being a working mother. obviously we're going to need to deal with that a lot especially now that Charles is gone, but I feel like she's been assigned the Character TraitTM of being the working mum and I'd like to see them give her a hobby or something. idk. and give her a night off with Grace or something. give her something just for her.

-TK

okay so I think theres a fair likelihood that theyre going to return to looking at TK's addiction next season which im not averse to. I think him struggling with his sobriety would be worthwhile to see for his character and to show that its not a straightforward path, plus it makes sense with all the insane stuff they've thrown at them in s2. however, Id like to see it in the context of his friends and family rallying around to help and support him and show him that he's got people to rely on, and that he's allowed to rely on them, plus the support of his AA meetings and therapy. I also need them to lay the groundwork for him struggling, so putting in signs of him deteriorating so the situation makes sense. this storyline doesn't need surprises to be interesting or good, and frankly it shouldn't have any.

as for him and Carlos, I definitely want to see them househunting! I'd like to see the combination of househunting/Carlos with Tommy's kids/Grace and Judd having their baby have an impact on their perspectives regarding their future and spark that conversation (like, looking at houses with more rooms and thinking about kids, future, marriage etc). I think that maybe one of them, probably TK, or maybe both of them those boys have way too many parent issues having anxieties about being a dad could be an interesting way to add tension without being too drastic, and then that can be resolved in a way that reassures them of their relationship and reaffirms their strength as a couple. the talk about the future would also lay the groundwork towards a proposal at the end of s3.

-Grace

grace :) my love :)

I could watch episode after episode of Grace kicking ass and saving people over the phone. I'd love to see an episode set there? like, some kind of story within the call centre with all the handlers having to resolve that between them, but also tie in the first responders, so we see the fire team, the paramedics and Carlos all working but we only see the bits that Grace and the other call handlers hear, if that makes sense? also an actual Grace/Carlos team up where they are coming in from the different angles with different amounts of evidence and figuring out the best way to solve something together. plus I'd like to see her maybe get some recognition for being awesome at her job, maybe another handler coming to her for advice on how to solve something.

of course we've got the baby Ryder on the way, and I want that to go comfortably and smoothly for her. she deserves that. lots of wholesome excitement for her and Judd from the whole extended firefam, baby shower, gifts, the full works. pamper grace please.

-Judd

judd4captain2k22. please.

yeah I know its not gonna happen, but I loved judd stepping in as captain this season and I'd love to see that continued with him taking more leadership, and Owen deferring to him for advice/council in a work environment rather than personal life. maybe set up a long term idea about judd being a captain someday.

he's gonna be a dad :') so what are his anxieties about that? why were they putting it off before? was it related to his PTSD? he's got lots of people relying on him now, how does that make him feel? what if his kid loses him? id like to see him still using therapy as a tool to help himself deal with everything. lots of meaty questions to dig into there :D

-Marjan

I'd quite like to see more of her balancing her daredevil nature with the impact of that and realising how much danger she puts herself in sometimes. or on the flip side, maybe the team is dealing with a really dangerous situation and they utilise her fearlessness to save people. her relationship with social media could also come back? but bring in the development they gave her this season, and her Firefox presence is more serious, less flippant?

I think that theres now a space for her to explore her sexuality/romantic experience now that she hasn't got her engagement with Salim as a kind of failsafe. maybe she wants to put herself out there and date, but thats really daunting as shes never really had to do that before? personally I think this could tie in really well with a self discovery/exploration regarding her sexual orientation, but I doubt they’d go there with her, so thats just my headcanon.

-Paul

I want them to draw on Paul’s observational skills and perceptiveness more, especially on calls and in emergencies. I remember someone (sorry I cant remember who) pointed out that he would have been a great character to centre the arsonist plot around in terms of noticing the clues etc, so id love a storyline that revolves around him dealing with an emergency like that. I also really want a Carlos and Paul friendship so maybe them collaborating on a call to solve something, that’d be cool.

can we give Paul a girlfriend please. if im not complely insane, there was a reference to someone in like,, 2x04?? someone who put mayo in his sandwich? idk I havent checked (edit: it was aioli in his banh mi! thank you @meneatyoghurt), but if there is someone can we show him having a fun and loving relationship please. I dont need there to be any drama. just them having fun on a date or something.

-Carlos

so I know that some people are keen to see him in his police role more but I really don't need much of that. on calls with the 126 I'd like to see him be the officer in charge more, but I don't need police-exclusive storylines. I've talked about it here if you want to know why.

the only area that I'd like to see would be in the direction of reform/addressing the flaws of the system, and I think they can do that on a personal level for him, because he and Mitchell need a chat. if they'd gone with her decision in 2x08, he, Mitchell and the bank robber would all be dead, and I think thats gotta have some impact. also the fact that he was suspended for trying to preserve life. theres a lot they could work with there and maybe have him thinking about how he can do good and how he can effectively protect and serve. not to mention, the opportunity that would provide in terms of addressing his relationship with his dad and how he maybe sought approval by pursuing a police career?

also I’d like him to learn that he doesnt need to accept blame/preemptively put blame on himself and that he doesnt need to apologise when someone else hurt him. kind of want to send him to therapy. kind of want to send all the characters to therapy. but yeah, him learning that he can accept apologies and understand that he doesnt have to make people feel better for hurting him. hes allowed to be hurt and feel pained about it. and that can tie into his relationships with Mitchell, with TK and with his parents.

I think I mentioned most of the tarlos stuff in TK’s section, but I wouldn't mind at least one instance for them where we see it all from his perspective instead of TK’s.

finally ive mentioned above how i’d like a team up with Paul on a scene and both of them figuring it out together. I'd also like them having a friendship outside work, just the two of them, bonding over books and being relatively sane people compared to the rest of their friends.

-Mateo

Mateo is so sweet. I loved 2x14 and the recognition he got, more of that please! also theres still so much I want to know - one of the more consistent things they set up for him in s2 was his faith, so I want to know more about that. what's his relationship with religion and God? he's pretty isolated from his family so how does he feel about that? is his religion something that helps him feel connected to them? maybe the church helped him find a community when he first came to the states, before he got settled with the 126, and he finds reassurance in faith that God is looking after his family while he cant be there? I think maybe there's scope for a conversation between Marjan and Mateo about that, about that distance and caring for their families through faith and prayer.

also, if he's still with the horrible firehouse, I'd like to see the other firefighters being won round by his resilience and stepping up to look out for him, and someone backing him up against the captain. Mateo is used as the butt of the joke most of the time, but I'd also like to see a bit more acknowledgement of things like losing his house and the bullying hes going to get more of from this firehouse.

-Nancy

I think that her speech to Tommy in 2x14 was really telling, and I'd love to see them expand on that a bit more. first on the loss and fear of losing her friends and coworkers, but then also on her hopes and aspirations - she said she wants to be a paramedic captain so lets see her working to take her exams and qualifications, and showing initiative on scenes etc.

id like to see more of her being integrated into the 126 group. she and marjan turned up to the hangout together, so lets develop that relationship more. I would love it to be romantic but I'd also love to see that as a friendship. but also her forming bonds with others in the group as well as more of her and TK being a chaos duo. I love that they stole the ambulance, more of that insanity please!

-

I think thats it? if youre still reading, youre insane and I appreciate you a lot! honestly im open to all sorts of things in s3, this isnt a prediction or anything, its just stuff I think would be interesting based on where the characters are now. 

[femmedionysus]

sorry if this is too personal feel free to just ignore if so, maybe im thinking of a different user but did you used to id as bi? : o i was curious cause ive been questioning lately and was wondering if you felt comfortable talking about the process of realizing you are lesbian

hope you're having a good day!

okay so first off, sorry it's taken me so long to answer this! I did id as bi until recently, & I don't at all mind talking about how I figured out I was a lesbian, but I am gonna put it under a readmore to spare people's dashboards because I did end up going on forever about it.

long post short: it's about finding what feels right & chasing that.

so I don't claim to speak for Every Lesbian Experience Ever, but personally, my realization went something like:

-be a neurodivergent & traumatized kid who is unsure of their footing in any social situation & very concerned with having the Correct reactions to things, in order to get a good grade in Being A Person.

-choose which boys you are going to have a crush on, based on things like whether they are nice to you or at least not outright mean, whether other girls in your class also like them, & crucially, whether they are unlikely to ever like you back, because the idea of actually dating them makes you nervous in a way you can’t quite put your finger on. assume everyone decides who to have a crush on this way.

-in gym class at age 12ish, get absolutely smitten with a pretty girl who passed the ball to you during soccer. assume that since you've had crushes on boys before, this must mean you're bi.

-do not question this assumption for the next 17 years of your life.

-in between dating a series of boys that range from "blandly inoffensive" to "actively abusive," have exactly two experiences with girls:

-hook up with your best friend in senior year of high school. catch feelings. get your heart broken when she does not feel the same.

-fall into a friends-with-benefits situation with your college roommate. catch feelings. get your heart broken when they do not feel the same. (I hesitate to include him in this actually, since they did come out as a trans guy later, but at the time we both thought that we were both cis girls, so it was an experience at the time)

-at age 20, date a man much older than yourself who turns out to be massively abusive. accumulate some more trauma.

-a few months after escaping that relationship, jump into another long term relationship with a different man who is mostly fine. shitty, sometimes, but better than the last one, anyway.

-it's hard to know if you're happy when all you have to compare it to is literal hell.

-when that relationship ends, fuck around with your gender & confirm that you are in fact nonbinary. nice!

-have a minor hoe phase that consists of two very underwhelming hookups with two men who were nice enough, but something just didn’t feel right about it. 

-get together with the butch you've been friends with for years (& had some level of feelings for them for pretty much that whole time).

-realize "wait, hang on, relationships are supposed to feel this good? is this allowed??"

I didn't think too hard about it at first but dating them felt different than dating any boy had felt, right from the start. they feel safe in a way that I hadn't ever felt before? I fell for them extremely hard, & getting to visit them & spend time with them in person again really just confirmed that for me.

it was when I started really examining that feeling that it made me question the rest of it. I made a post a couple days ago, but like, imagine thinking you like black&white movies the same amount as color movies when you've only ever seen black&white movies, & then watching something that's all neon. it makes you question what you thought you knew before you had had that experience!

the biggest part of the realization for me was figuring out that with kiwi, my feelings were "I really like them," instead of the feeling I was used to of "I really want them to like me." I really thought those two feelings were the same, but as it turns out, nope! huge difference.

dating women in general & kiwi specifically feels easy & natural & good in a way that dating men never has, for me. & I'm sure that part of that is that I am absolutely head over heels for this butch, & I want us to keep making each other happy for as long as they'll have me! but it's also the knowledge that having feelings for someone can feel like this, like the main emotion behind it is joy instead of anxiety.

I don't know that I'd even say that every feeling I've ever had for any man was fake, necessarily. but I do know that the thought of "I never have to date a man ever again" gives me such a huge wave of euphoria & relief. I saw a post recently that described figuring out your attraction as "joy-sensitive" & I really love that way of looking at it. like sure, I could sit here & agonize over every relationship or "crush" that I've ever had with a man, & go over my feelings with a microscope looking for proof that I'm really bisexual or really a lesbian, but honestly? that sounds hellish. I only want to date women/sapphic nonbinaries, so I'm calling myself a lesbian, & that feels incredible to say!

you're allowed to sit with your feelings for as long as you need to to find what feels right for you, but you don't have to prove it to yourself (or anyone else). you're allowed to try it on for size - when you're alone sometime, say it out loud to yourself, see how it feels! say out loud, "I'm a lesbian." does it feel terrifying? wrong? right? freeing? restrictive? don't put too much stress on figuring it out right away - there's no time limit. just sit with whatever feelings it gives you, & see which feelings you want to chase.

do the same thing with "I'm bisexual." how does that feel? better or worse? more or less accurate?

think about never dating a man, ever again. does that feel like loss, or does it feel like freedom?

there's no right or wrong answers to these questions. being bisexual & being a lesbian are both wonderful, amazing, healthy, beautiful things to be! whichever label you decide fits you best, I wish you nothing but happiness. good luck!

[jlalafics]

Could you please reblog your lesbian!Peeta story for me

Sure! I hope this is the one you’re thinking of!

_______

“You can shut off the lights now.”

Delly Cartwright, Peeta’s friend and business manager, looked to her and gave a sympathetic smile.

“You did well for a new business owner, Peeta,” she continued. Gathering some of the go-backs, Delly started to head over to the racks. “You opened a record shop. It wasn’t exactly going to be busy every day, but from a business standpoint, you did well for your first week.”

Peeta gathered her golden locks into a ponytail and took the broom next to her to sweep up.

“I guess you’re right,” Peeta replied.

She had fair sales for her opening week; it had always been her dream to open a shop of her own and her love for vinyl clinched her decision to open a record store. There was hope of expanding to a used bookstore, but it seemed that it would be awhile before that would happen.

“Don’t you have a husband to get home to?” Peeta asked her friend. “Thom must be annoyed that you’re spending all your time with me.”

“Thom wouldn’t have a full-service coffee bar if it weren’t for his wife’s business savvy,” Delly retorted. She pushed herself onto the wood counter. “He can sacrifice time so I can help out one of my best friends.”

“Really though.” Returning the broom to its place, Peeta met her friend’s light eyes. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Suddenly, Delly’s mouth formed into a smirk. “I mean it wouldn’t hurt if you had a partner to support and help you out. I met this great girl at Thom’s bar—”

“You know what—” Peeta lifted her petite friend off the counter easily, placing her by the front door. “—I think you should go home. You’re obviously exhausted.”

“You win this round, Mellark,” Delly declared with a chuckle. “We’ll see you for Sunday brunch at our place.”

Stepping out, Peeta watched her friend get into her car and drive off before walking back into the store.

Sighing, she let herself admit that she was lonely.

It had been two years since her last relationship and about six months since her last date. Her brothers were both in long-term relationships; Dean, her eldest brother, married to Olivia, his college girlfriend, with two kids and one on the way while Rye, the middle child, engaged to Johanna, one of Peeta’s closest friends and her former roommate.

While she, the youngest and only girl, was still single.

Peeta wasn’t looking for just anyone.

Whoever she was had to be more.

So, for the time being, she would just have to focus on getting the store up and running.

++++++

Locking up the store, Peeta buttoned her rust peacoat and headed towards her bus stop. Her place was fifteen minutes away—just a few blocks—but the fall season had caused the city to go dark once it hit six in the evening.

“Hey girl!”

The group of guys from the bar across the street called out. There were a few catcalls and she ignored it, speeding up her pace towards the bus stop at the end of the block. Her heart stuttered in nervousness as she heard the footfalls heading towards her.

Suddenly, one of the guys was standing in front of her. “Where you heading, sweetheart?”

Peeta didn’t reply, only taking in a description of the guy…mid-twenties, dark beard, medium height, sharp dark eyes wearing a grey hoodie, black tank, and dark jeans.

So, basically any random guy.

Dean was a cop and he had always taught her what to do if she was in a situation like this. However, it didn’t seem to be helping as she found herself surrounded by the rest of the group.

So, Peeta went for Rye’s method and fully rushed at the guy in front of her, trying to knee him in the groin.

He pushed her and Peeta was knocked down, the back of her head hitting the concrete.

There was the pain of impact…and then darkness.

++++++

“Miss Mellark…can you open your eyes?” Peeta blinked, her vision blurred and the white light causing her eyes to close again. “Take your time.”

She followed the kind voice, allowing herself to adjust before opening her eyes once more.

“There you go,” the voice said gently. “You gave us a scare when you came in.”

Her vision cleared and the warmest set of eyes greeted her. Almond-shaped and dove grey, the eyes were set in a heart-shaped face along with a pert nose and rose lips, her skin was a soft olive and her raven hair was tied back in a neat braid.

“Where am I?” she asked as the bed was slowly elevated.

“You are in the hospital,” the woman in the blue scrubs informed her. “My name is Katniss and I’m your nurse. You were mugged; the perp got your credit cards but left the rest of your wallet since there wasn’t any money. Can you tell me your name?”

“Peeta. Peeta Mellark.”

Katniss looked at her in confusion. “Your ID says Pieta Mellark.”

“When I was born, my parents tried to teach my brother Rye how to say me name properly, Pee-et-ta, but he couldn’t get it and kept pronouncing my name as Pee-ta. So, it kind of stuck.”

The nurse chuckled. “I like both your names.” Katniss looked over her chart and then to her. “We’re just making sure that you’re CT scan comes out clean and then we can release you. Do you have anyone that we can call? Your family?”

“I don’t want to worry my parents and they’re an hour away, and my brothers have families,” she explained. “Once I’m released, I’ll just head on home.”

“Your name fits you,” Katniss remarked. “Pieta means compassion. A lot of people would milk themselves getting injured, but not you. You’re more concerned about everyone else around you.”

“Give me a day or two and I’ll be at home, feeling sorry for myself,” Peeta replied. “Your name is a plant.”

The nurse grinned. “How did you know?”

“When we were all kids, my parents took us camping,” she explained. “And my Dad told me that if for some reason, I got lost in the woods then I just needed to find you to survive.”

Katniss blushed, her cheeks flooding with color, and Peeta found herself breathless in the prettiness of it all.

“I suppose that could also apply to non-camping situations,” Katniss responded. “Get some rest, Peeta, and I’ll check up on your results.”

++++++

“I’m really alright, Haymitch,” Peeta assured her business partner on the phone. “They kept me overnight for observation, but they didn’t see anything in the CT scan.”

“We should install cameras in the front,” the man insisted. “You could’ve been killed or assaulted!”

“Well, they checked if there was any trauma down there and everything seemed right as rain,” she assured him. “My vagina is perfectly intact.”

There was a cough and she turned to see Katniss standing before, a black bomber jacket over her scrubs and her hair down in long waves.

“I really didn’t need to hear that,” the man muttered. “Just call me when you get home, okay? Also, get an Uber and put it on our business credit card.”

“Ah…you should probably call about that,” Peeta replied. “Some of my credit cards are missing.”

“I’m right on it,” Haymitch responded. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll open the store tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” Hanging up, Peeta stuffed her phone into her jean pocket before turning to the woman. “Getting off?”

Katniss looked to her in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“Work. You off from your shift?”

The blush invaded her lovely face and she nodded quickly. “Oh yeah! Just heading out. How about you?”

“Yeah, just needed to check in with Haymitch, my partner,” Peeta explained.

“Oh.” Katniss’ expression dropped. “Why wouldn’t your boyfriend pick you up?”

Peeta snorted at the idea.

“Haymitch is my business partner.” She looked to the woman beside her. “You heading home to your boyfriend?”

The woman shook her head. “I’ve got some leftover pasta and A Walk to Remember on Netflix, but that’s about it.”

“Would you want to join me for a cup of coffee?” Peeta found herself asking. “Thom, my best friend’s husband owns a coffee shop a few blocks down. It will be on me—or on Delly, my best friend—your coffee, I mean…”

Shit, Peeta was going about this all wrong. She didn’t even know if Katniss was into girls.

“Sure.”

Her head snapped up at Katniss’ response and Peeta smiled. “Okay.”

They headed onto the sidewalk in front of the hospital. It was a beautiful morning, chilled but brimming with potential to be a gorgeous day of clear skies and temperate weather.

“How long have you been a nurse?” Peeta asked as they headed down towards Thom’s coffee bar.

“About three years,” Katniss said. “Got this job right out of school. My mom was head nurse at the hospital before retiring a few years ago and I guess nepotism worked in my favor. I might actually be a really crappy nurse.”

“No, you definitely aren’t,” Peeta argued. “You have a natural empathy.”

“How so?”

“When I woke up, I was scared as hell,” she told the woman next to her. They stopped at the crosswalk and Peeta met Katniss’ gaze. “But, when I heard your voice, I knew that I would be okay. You made me feel safe.”

“That’s a lot to put on a girl,” Katniss said quietly. “But I’m glad that I could help.”

Their eyes met and it was like a magnetic force that Peeta found her hand tucking back a tendril of Katniss’ hair behind her ear. Her fingers lingered, feeling the softness of her dark waves and Katniss’ breath caught at the gesture.

Her hand covered Peeta’s and the sensation drew a sharp gasp from Peeta’s mouth.

It had been a long time since she had felt like this.

Stepping towards Katniss, she waited to see if the woman would retreat.

However, Katniss remained still, her mouth parted and her eyelids going half-lidded as Peeta close the space between.

The kiss was careful, her mouth slanting over Katniss’ gently. The feeling of her soft lips caused a groan to draw up from the pit of Peeta’s stomach and escape between their mouths.

It was scary but exhilarating all at once and Peeta never wanted to let her go.

However, Katniss hummed against her lips and reluctantly she pulled away.

“I probably wasn’t supposed to do that,” Peeta told her.

Katniss looked disappointed. “Oh, okay.”

“I mean not without taking you out on a date first.”

Katniss let out a relieved laugh. “Well, we just cut out the needless tension of the first kiss, didn’t we?”

“I guess so,” Peeta replied, taking her hand. “So…”

‘…would like to stay indefinitely?’

“Would you like to have coffee first and then dinner later?”

“And, between then?” Katniss asked, her thumb caressing the top of Peeta’s hand.

“Whatever we want, I have all day.”

I have forever for you.

“Okay.” Katniss beamed. “Let’s start with the coffee.”

[kisafavi-17]

Jack:

- football star

- quarterback

- friends with newsies in middle school

- HELLA TALL

- openly bisexual

- he/him

- seems scary but is really nice

- had a small fling with sarah

- RED BULLLL

- average student

- creator of blog

- junior in high school

- just turned 17 in february

- teachers love him

- massive flirt

- loves horror movies and will put them on to have background noise

- HIS REAL NAME IS JACKSON BUT CALL HIM THAT AND HE WILL END YOU

- lives with medda

David:

- straight A+

- honor roll gate kid

- taking 5 AP classes

- gay and on the ace spectrum

- major social anxiety

- new kid

- met jack first

- closeted/didn’t know

- tutor to most newsies

- has a older sister sarah (by 1 year) and younger brother les (10 years old)

- he/they?

- editor of the blog (once joined)

- mentally ill

- scared of spot

- sophomore taking junior classes

- 15 years

- reads romantic novels to understand women

- has feminine products on him at all times

- FEMINIST

- has sensory issues

Race:

- pothead

- always has nic of some kind

- TRAUMAAAAAA

- always horny

- flirts with all

- attracted to few

- very openly gay

- gets bullied a lot

- on-scene reporter for the school news blog

- barely passing

- he/they/she (doesn’t care really)

- swears A LOT

- met spot in 4th grade

- sophomore (got held back a year) 16 years old

- is down for anything

- lives with jack at medda’s

- is the meme lord

- does. not. sleep. (or sleeps all the time no in between)

- has dyslexia and reads wattpad or redit

Spot:

- either really rich or really poor

* Rich:

- daddy’s money

- old family friends with jack

- arranges interviews with people for the blog

- on baseball team

- picks on boys

- REFUSES TO MAKE FUN OF GIRLS

- lowkey feminist

- internalized homophobia

- drives a porsche… a BRIGHT RED porsche

- he/him (says nor/mal like a douche tho)

- HELLA DEPRESSED

- takes “performance enhancing” pills

- secretly hangs out with the newsies

- junior but really young

- david is his tutor

- lowkey really dumb

- refuses to read anything. ever

- IS NOT FUCKING SHORT!!!

- he’s like 5’10 (says hes 6’0 tho)

- real name is thomas

* Poor:

- TRAUMATIZED AFFFFF

- wears zip-up hoodies with black skinny jeans

- beat up black vans

- emo

- also a really young junior

- hot topic is his ✨home✨

- everyone is scared of him

- the “quiet kid”

- he/him

- closeted bi pref men

- race is his only friend

- occasionally smokes weed

- oldest sibling of 3 (twins one of each. 5th grade)

- has a job no one knows about

- works as a waiter at a dinner an hour from school

- IS. NOT. SHORT.

- HE. IS. LIKE. 5’11.

- gets into fights and never looses

- secretly simping for race

- protects the newsies

- writes anonymous articles for blog

- ✨black eyeliner✨

- always has painted fingernails

- B+ average

- real name is sean

Sarah:

- book worm

- LESBIAN

- she/they

- loves the book worms

- reads anything and everything

- does photography for school blog

- definitely does theater/choir

- owns wattpad

- writes on wattpad

- definitely simping for fictional characters

- has tried a vape once

- lightweight

- tall

- like 5’8.5

- mamma mia fangirl

- loves DC movies

- has every girl/boy crushing over her

- therapist friend

- always has everything you need somehow

- met jack at a party

- doesn’t allow ANYONE to pick on david along with jack

- cottage gore ascetic

- loves disney

- drives a blue subaru

- is on the high school dance team

- hates the term “UwU”

- is a 16 year old junior

Blink:

- on football team

- still has eyepatch but no one cares

- gayyyy

- dating mush

- PDA

- funny af

- is a really old sophomore

- 16 years old (a january baby)

- camera man for race for blog

- besties are bumlets, mush, and jack

- only one without family trauma

- has twin sister

- has the funniest laugh ever

- volunteers at homeless shelters

- cinnamon roll🥺

- real name is dylan

- hornyyyyy

- has smexy pics on snap

- harry potter fan

- griffindor

- TWITTER WARS

- starts beef for no reason

- watches horror to freak mush out

- it works

Mush:

- hates horror movies

- is dating blink

- is on the wrestling and dance team

- people tease him for being on the dance team

- 15 year olds sophomore

- wants to be a veterinarian

- owns a chicken for some reason

- no one knows how he got a chicken

- chickens name is Kentucky (hehe)

- is a cinnamon roll 🥺

- body dysmorphia

- has eating disorder

- nicknamed sunshine (brought to you by blink)

- has braces

- has mainly girl friends and everyone thinks he’s dating them

- he/him

- pansexual

- civil rights activist

- hates when blink gets hurt

- is a crackhead some times

- is a vegetarian

- works lighting for blog interviews and reports

- PDA is not his thing but he doesn’t mind it

- BOTTOM WHO LOOKS LIKE A TOP

- people think he’s a crybaby when in reality, he rarely cries

- loves disneyland and disney in general

- friends with everyone

- is the matchmaker

- cuddle bug with blink

- mostly C’s and B’s on his report card

- real name is aaron (hehe)

- is a romantic so… mush

Bumlets:

- emo vibes

- on dance team

- is secretly good at soccer

- gamer boi

- has only been in one long term relationship

- is broken hearted

- keeps to himself

- they/he

- pansexual

- had a crush on blink for a bit

- has crushed on every newsie at least once

- is pretty chill

- 15 year old sophomore

- currently single

- taking AP classes with david

- is like really smart

- reads AO3

- doesn’t like wattpad

- plays CoD and halo

- rages when he games

- LOVES GRILLED CHEESE

- scary dog privilege (owns a pit bull)

- pit bulls name is kiara

- knows how to ballroom dance

- romantic boi

- doesn’t open up easily

- knows how mush got his chicken

- friends with poor spot

- is a writer for blog because he can actually spell

- real name is lucas

- has depression hence “bumlets”

- surprisingly really strong

- ✨flexible✨

Skittery:

- one of the oldest newsies (terms of joining)

- only talks to bumlets and jack

- doesn’t like david to much

- has a RBF

- is 16 (turns 17 in august)

- is a junior

- smokes cigarettes

- doesn’t have social media

- is on the varsity water polo team

- ✨rings galore✨

- tries to be cool

- has 2 cats

- cats are cheesy and monica

- has an older brother in college

- works at 7 11

- is not looking for a relationship

- he/him

- straight ally

- tried being gay but didn’t work out

- drinks white wine

- always stressed

- decent student

- A- average

- friends with all the coaches

- headphones are his lifesaver

- is a very numb human

- always has cold skin for some reason

- even in like 100 degree weather he is still cold to the touch

- had facebook then deleted it because hack found his account and spammed it

- historical fiction type of dude

- is the one who finds all of the info to give to writers/reporters for blog

- loves bumlets dog

- drives a toyota prius

- real name is jefferson

- no one but jack knows how he got the name skittery

Crutchie:

- was in a car accident

- real name is charles

- has social anxiety and dyslexia

- should get picked on but jack doesn’t let that happen

- soft boi

- technically isn’t a newsie but shows up to the meetings

- is a emotional support teddy bear

- is the assistant director for the school plays

- best friends are jack, sarah, and mush

- only has instagram

- terrified of heights

- occasionally sleeps over at meddas

- adults love this child

- they/them

- gay

- loves disney

- knows the entire hunchback of notre dame movie by heart

- is 14 years old

- freshman. the only freshman newsie

- child of the group

- goes to all of his friends game or competitions to cheer them on

- is really short

- like REALLY SHORT

- says “rawr” a lot

Medda:

- jack and races mother

- (A SINGLE MOM WHO WORKS TWO JOBS WHO LOVES HER KIDS AND NEVER STOPS WITH GENTLE HANDS AND THE HEART OF A FIGHTERRRR IMMA SURVIVOR)

- is a voice actress

- has been in disney films

- “if you’re going to drink id rather you do it in the house” mentality

- hates the idea of nicotine

- on the PTA

- has annual passes to disneyland

- loves all the newsies

- wants to adopt poor spot

- is in her late 30s to early 40s

- she/her

- straight… kind of

- she says she’s straight but by definition she’s pan

- civil rights activist

- has an ACAB sticker on her car

- PRIDE FLAGS EVERYWHERE

- if the sexuality/gender exists in the lgbtq+ community, she has their flag

- likes gardening

- will never use the wrong pronouns

- doesn’t really eat at chain restaurants

- not afraid to kill someone who hurts one of the newsies

- i’m serious

- she’s tried

- ….

Les:

- in 5th grade; 10

- friends with poor spots siblings

- is friends with the newsies

- loves medda

- is like another crutchie without the trauma/depression/anxiety/etc.

- asks david if him and jack are dating

- he knew david was 💅 before david did

- loves it when one or all of the newsies picks him up from school

- everyone loves him

- got picked on for having a “looser brother”

- spot (both poor and rich) picked him up one time with david. said “if you have a problem with les, you got a problem with me!”

- les was never bothered again

- gets lifted onto the guy’s shoulders all the fricking time

- loves feeling tall

- wants to play football like jack

- is very smart

- is ridiculously fast

- he has the fastest mile time in the whole grade

- teachers pet

- doesn’t have many friends his age

- brags about the newsies to his classmates

[themidnight-ghost]

I should tell you

“Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the wee donkey, are you dating Joanne Davidson?”

“Boss, I honestly don’t see an issue...” Kate trailed off as Ted massaged his temples.

“You don’t see an issue? She swears at her superiors, has affairs with her staff, shot an officer twice in the chest, set up a plot to kill you and replied with ‘no comment’ to almost every bloody question.”

The euphoria Kate Fleming felt around Joanne Davidson was extravagant. Even now, when they lie in bed together trying to come down from their high, Kate still felt energised. The DI rolled over to face her girlfriend, with the bedsheets pulled up to her neck and subtly smiled.

Kate ran her left hand through Jo’s hair and cupped her cheek with the other, “Morning, boss.”

Jo opened her eyes and grinned when she met Kate’s, “You don’t have to keep calling me that.”

“I want to,” Kate replied honestly.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” Jo simply said as she moved forward to kiss her girlfriend tenderly. No one would have expected that Kate Fleming and Jo Davidson would become a thing. Especially after Jo’s arrest. Heck, they didn’t even know if Jo would survive prison! Jo paused their kiss, and Kate looked unexpectedly at the DI, “You should probably tell Steve and Ted.”

The moment was ruined.

Kate tensed as she sat up, pulling the duvet with her and laughing when she pulled too hard, so Jo was left bare, “What?”

“I said-'' Davidson smirked as she deliberately rolled onto Kate’s chest, making her blush, “You should tell Steve and Ted. You may not be related, but they’re your friends.”

“What if I don’t want to tell Steve?” Kate challenged with a whisper, not looking away from Jo's eyes.

“You can look at my tits, Kate. I don't mind.”

“JO!” Kate profusely blushed and shoved her ex-boss to the side,

Jo snickered and leant back into the DI for a cuddle, “It isn’t like you haven’t seen them before.”

“But seriously,” Kate hummed when she went back to being serious, “Steve will support it; I know he will. But Ted? I don’t want to tell. He might not like it.”

“But he threw confetti at that proposing gay couple?”

“That’s different. Not only am I his colleague, but I’m also dating a woman who committed multiple offences to the law and it’ll be awkward, especially in a work setting.”

“Yeah, I still feel a little guilty for that,” Jo confessed.

“You shouldn’t. It was shitty, but you did it because Pilkinton had a gun to your head and somehow made things right, but,” Kate hesitated and wrapped an arm around Jo’s torso, “that still doesn’t change what happened.”

“Steve’s your best friend, and from what I can tell, you’ve known Ted for a good while.” Jo gently kissed Kate’s jaw before shuffling away, allowing the DI to go downstairs.

“I might.” Kate smiled as she grabbed her underwear and a towel from the floor, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Kate.”

Both women had been dating for a significant amount of time. Their story started when Jo broke up with Farida, and the two started getting close. After that, there had been a series of unofficial dates, secret glances, handholding, confessions and a memorable car getaway. Kate was embarrassed that it took her so long to come to terms with her feelings.

The night when Kate shot Pilkinton was definitely memorable but for all the wrong reasons. Kate couldn’t care less that she’d shot an officer; the only thing she cared about was saving Jo and getting them far away from town. She was looking forward to a life of peace without bent coppers lurking around corners and getting married to the woman she loved. That being said, Kate didn’t confess her love until Jo was in prison.

Finally arriving at work, Kate scanned her ID and headed straight for Ted’s office.

“Morning, Kate.” Hastings didn’t look up from his computer.

Tapping her on the shoulder, Steve approached with two cups of coffee from behind, “The Gaffer thinks he’s found something worth looking at.”

Kate raised an eyebrow, “Oh yeah? What’s it relating to?”

“Our friend, Jo Davidson.”

Kate’s heart dropped to the floor. Was it bad? Who was she kidding? Of course, it was going to be bad.

“I don’t want to make any sudden moves,” Ted admired his coffee, “Let’s just wait it out.”

Steve knew that Kate had some sort of soft spot for Jo. He didn’t know the details of their relationship but was aware they were close,

“Has she mentioned anything to you since she was released?”

Kate shook her head.

“Strange.” Hastings began, “I was quite hoping we’d seen the last of her. The poor girl’s been through enough as it is.”

Kate picked her fingernails, and her stomach churned over, “Can I confess something?”

“Of course…” Hastings folded his arms and leaned across the desk, gesturing for Kate to take a seat.

“Do you want me out?” DI Arnott hesitated.

“It’s alright, Steve. I need to tell both of you anyway.”

“I’ve been seeing someone,” A beat, “romantically.”

The confession slipped out, and jumping the first hurdle was surprisingly easy, but unfortunately, it wasn’t as straightforward as that.

The Gaffer corrected his posture, and Steve cocked his head, “Oh? For how long?”

“About 4 months.”

Steve looked slightly hurt, “And you never told me?”

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” Kate replied sheepishly.

Steve and Ted weren’t blood-related, but Kate still viewed them as her family. One of Kate’s strongest memories was when Steve slept on her sofa bed every night after her husband left.

“What’s his name?”

Another hurdle appeared that Kate had to somehow jump over - the gay hurdle. Until she met Jo, Kate never imagined herself to be bisexual. The haircut had always been misleading until now.

“He’s a she.” Kate wouldn’t say she was scared of her boss, but she certainly valued his approval and Catholic beliefs.

Ted paused to think this over before leaning back in his chair, closing his eyes, and smiling. The smile grew, and a flower of hope blossomed in the DI’s chest. Steve was grinning at both reactions and patted Kate reassuringly on the shoulder.

“I’m happy you felt comfortable enough to tell us,” Steve spoke for them.

“Does this mean you’re okay with this?” Kate didn’t know why she needed an answer, but she would feel even better with confirmation.

“It’s your life, of course, we are! Now, who is she?”

“Okay, okay”, Kate could burst with excitement! Even though they didn’t know it was Jo, Kate could still describe her lover in perfect detail. “She has short, dark brown hair, which has a subtle wave at the end. She is pretty pale, so in the sun, her freckles come out, but you won’t see them unless you’re super close! Her cheeks are always red because she is somehow always blushing!” Kate continued to gush, “Her eyes are brown, and her favourite colour is blue! She was also a police officer-”

“You told them yet?” Jo Davidson leaned in the doorway with a giant grin plastered on her face, “or are you just going to keep describing my facial features?”

Silence.

Jo stopped as she realised what she’d said.

Kate looked between Jo, Steve and Ted. She loved her ex-boss, but she really needs to learn to read a situation.

Steve and Ted simultaneously looked between Kate and Jo. Their brains slowly put the puzzle together in an organised fashion. The hair, the skin, the blush, the eyes and finally, the favourite colour.

The history hurdle.

The grinding of Ted’s chair against the floor wasn’t enough to pierce the tension between the group. Kate ushered her girlfriend into the office, closing the door, taking her hand and cautiously walking over to Steve and Ted.

“Jo, this is Steve. Steve, this is Jo.” Kate introduced them, and Jo waved shily. “Jo, this is Ted, Ted this is-”

“I know who Jo Davidson is.” Ted’s voice was a deadly monotone. “How did you even get in?”

“I walked through the door.” The awkwardness had obviously got to the former SIO, who proceeded to bite her lip as she glanced around the room, eyeing the wall with great curiosity.

“Davidson.” Jo’s head snapped back to the situation as Hastings addressed her. “Are you dating one of my officers?”

“Well-” Jo didn’t know what to say, and thankfully, Ted didn’t want to hear it.

“Katherine Laura Fleming.” Kate flinched at the use of her full name.

“Your middle name is Laura?” Jo tentatively asked before Ted shut her off. “Jesus, Mary, Joseph and the wee donkey, are you dating Joanne Davidson?”

“Boss, I honestly don’t see an issue...” Kate trailed off as the Gaffer rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“You don’t see an issue?” Ted tried hard to keep his composure, “She swears at her superiors, has affairs with her staff, shot an officer twice in the chest, set up a plot to kill you and replied with ‘no comment’ to almost every bloody question.”

“She also commanded multiple armed officers, is super observant, tactically agile, Scottish and be honest: we all know I was the one who shot Ryan Pilkinton.”

Steve sniggered. “I just can’t believe you both.”

“After everything, she's done? I don’t know if I should be impressed or appalled.” Ted corrected.

“You’re not mad?” Kate pushed,

“I'm not mad, but I’m seriously debating whether I should fire you for stupidity. You said it’s been going on for 2 or 3 months, but when did it even start?”

“Jo and I have been shagging on the sly for months.” Jo snickered at Kate’s comment, “But for me, it started in the getaway car and when Jo went to prison. I always felt different about her, but it only hit me when I thought I’d lose her for good.”

Kate’s sentence pulled on Jo’s heartstrings as she remembered the recent events. Throughout her short time in prison and working on Operation Lighthouse, Kate had been her friend and colleague. She cared for Jo more than anyone else in her life and Kate was the only person to make an effort and ask about her day. Overwhelmed, the smaller woman buried her head in Kate’s shoulder, forgetting all about the angry Ted Hastings. Kate kissed Jo’s forehead and smiled fondly down at her.

Both Steve and Ted thought they knew exactly how Jo Davidson worked, especially after interviewing Farida they pictured her as a manipulative, self-centred psychopath. The recent interview didn’t exactly change their opinions either. But this was different. It wasn’t normal for anyone to see Jo vulnerable, but it looked easy when she was with Kate. Jo relaxed, her shoulders dropped, breathing steady, eyes shut with a gentle smile. And in the years Steve had known Kate, he had never seen her blush as much as she did now or look at someone with so much compassion and… love?

“Just so you know, we don’t care that you’re gay, mate. And we shouldn’t care who you date either. I think it was just a shock for Hastings here.” Steve patted his boss on the back.

“It was a shock to me too.” Jo finally addressed the room, “I thought I was done. Mentally, physically and romantically.”

“I should apologise for my words,” Ted replied sheepishly, “I have nothing against anyone, but as you can tell, I’m still a little prickly.”

Jo awkwardly picked down the skin on her fingers, “I don’t blame you, sir.” It was still a little awkward between the trio, and Ted was determined to settle things, “I didn’t get a chance to mention it, but I’m impressed with your knowledge of the law, especially in that interview.”

Kate proudly squeezed Jo’s arm, “Thank you.”

“Unfortunately,” Ted continued, “I can’t let you back on the force-”

“Oh, don’t worry about that: I’m done with police work altogether.” Jo looked fondly at Kate, “I just want to focus on my life and what I have left.”

“Wise words.” Steve nodded, “Can I get anyone another coffee?”

“Tea, please.”

“Same here.”

Steve headed towards the door, gesturing Kate to follow.

“Is it wise to leave them there alone?” Kate jogged after her colleague.

Steve grinned, “Let them talk about rules for a while; I’d rather know all about this new development!” he playfully nudged Kate’s arm and jumped for joy when they were at the coffee machine and out of sight.

“You gonna calm down now?” Kate chucked before looking serious, “By the way, what did you find out about Jo? Should I be worried?”

“Go no! There was a small break in around your apartment. We checked the security cameras and noticed Jo Davidson walking past and holding hands with…” Steve dragged out the answer before pointing to DI Fleming, “you.” Kate turned pale as Steve continued, “I had my suspicions, and we intended to mention it today, see if we could get a reaction. Guess I didn’t even have to try, mate.”

☁️ First ever Flemson fic, fist time watching Line of Duty - that ending was NOT IT (expect a 4000 word alternate ending fic soon) if you read this, thank you x ☁️

[starsfic]

Smoke and Gold, Chapter 6: Realizing

Summary: Red and Xiaotian spend some extra time together and Xiaotian kinda comes to a realization.

AO3

Notes: CW: Periods. And I'm sorry if this feels rushed. @fosermi

-_-

Red Son was blaming the love potion for this hiccup.

His mother had been in a good mood since he had made Xiaotian disappear, her sadistic nature showing in full as Sun Wukong and the rest of Xiaotian’s friends tried to deal with his absence, including her view of Wukong going up to Heaven to try to interrogate everyone in the celestial realm to find out where his son was. (On that note, Red had recently received a very angry voicemail from Heaven that he was ignoring for a later date, very glad that Xiaotian was hidden.)

But since his father had been sealed away, she had formed a depression. Red Son had done his best to help her through it and it had gotten to the point that it only struck every so often. Like now, where she didn’t want to see his face.

And the only place he could stay was where Xiaotian was.

If his and Xiaotian’s marriage was a normal one, there would be no issue with this. Except their marriage wasn’t a regular one and their relationship wasn’t at the point where Red was ready to show his face. And that hurt and…

He grumbled, glaring at nothing in particular. He was in the parking lot of his favorite cafe, sitting in his car and munching on lunch while he considered what to do. He couldn't ask Xiaotian to wear a blindfold for however long his mother wanted him gone. It was sheer luck that he hadn't injured himself at this point-

His phone rang. Absently, Red checked the ID. If it was Heaven, he would ignore it.

It was the palace.

He pressed CALL, mind whirling. Xiaotian didn't know his number, how- " My lord?" It was the head servant. He relaxed.

"Yes?"

"Um, I'm sorry, but it seems Master Xiaotian has started his moontime."

Red blinked in confusion, mind whirling at the old-fashioned term. Then realization struck and he hissed out a curse. He hadn't thought about Xiaotian's period. He should've the moment his husband had told him he was trans.

"Has anyone hurt him?" Demons were particular to human blood, especially that variety. He started the car, mentally trying to figure out the closest pharmacy.

"No. But he's been hiding in the bathtub."

"Ask him if he prefers pads or tampons." Red started driving, tapping his finger against the wheel. On the other end, he could hear whispers.

"Pads."

Good to know. Red parked, barked a "I'll be there soon." and marched inside the pharmacy. He headed for the right section and, after a few minutes of debating, grabbing three different packs. He also grabbed some snacks before marching to the counter. The cashier- a snobby looking teen- made a face of disgust. Before he could say a word, Red glared. He shut his mouth and scanned them.

When the cashier was finished, he handed the right amount and marched out with the bag. Setting in the passenger seat, he drove to the palace.

-_-

Periods sucked.

Xiaotian was curled up in the bathtub, glaring at nothing, feeling the blood between his legs dry. This was just like the first period he had after Wukong adopted him, the Monkey King having no idea what to do. It was irritating and he was cold. And common sense told him to not go out like this, leaving him like this.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. “Uh, Master Xiaotian?”

“Yes?” he said, trying his best to not sound irritated. He probably failed but he was cranky.

“Your husband is here. Just as a warning.”

Before Xiaotian could ask questions, the bathroom went dark and the door opened and closed. He didn’t yelp, well used to the routine, but curled up tighter. They had said his husband had an important job- did he leave it because of him? “Hey,” a warm, welcome voice said. “How are you feeling?”

“...kinda sick. And tired.” He reached out blindly, feeling something warm in his chest form when a familiar hand wrapped around his hand and gave it a squeeze. “What about work?”

“Don’t worry about it. How can I help you?”

That warm feeling in Xiaotian’s chest grew as his husband set to work grabbing spare underwear and padding it for him and handed him a wet washcloth to wipe himself off with. When that was done, Red led him into the dark bedroom, passing him the snacks. For the rest of the day, he was cuddled into his side, feeling warm both in body and soul.

His period passed after a week and his husband returned to work and the routine continued on.

But, a day after the routine returned, the servants informed him that his art supplies had arrived. Xiaotian was led to a solar, gleaming and lovely and with a beautiful view of the forest. A bunch of new sheets sat next to a few large boxes. Hazarding a guess, he opened one.

The paint inside was the most expensive brand, ones he had been trying to save for years. Wukong had tried to buy them for him, but Xiaotian had refused. Now, his hands trembled as he opened the rest, finding more and more lovely and expensive supplies.

There was a note in one of them.

Don’t worry about the cost. Enjoy them.

The warm feeling returned and Xiaotian scrambled to set everything up. His cheeks were furiously warm as he worked and his heart raced as he opened the supplies.

When the sun was setting, he was covered in paint and realizing what he was experiencing.

He couldn’t help his smile.

[agentnolastname]

Tell the World

Pairing: Raleigh Carrera x Cadence Dorian (Platinum)

Prompt: Image

for: @choicesseptemberchallenge20 • Day 25

Note: Hello! This is my first time joining a fic fest and my first time writing, too. It's not the best but I hope you'll enjoy it. Thank you!

---

Cadence wakes up as the rays of sun hit her eyes. She stirs and tightens her arms around the waist of the man beside him, unwilling to move and get the day started. It hasn't even been 24 hours since the last time she went on stage and she feels so tired. She groans as her phone buzzed once again making the latter chuckle from behind her and stroke her hair.

"Babe, you have to wake up. Your phone has been going off since earlier." Raleigh pats her back lightly as he inched himself away from her only to put a kiss on her forehead and on the tip of his nose. Cadence waits for his lips to land on hers yet she didn't feel it. So he opened her eyes and pouts only to see her boyfriend grining down at her. "Thought it's gonna wake you up and it did. Good morning, hermosa. Let's move now, shall we?" He says finally reaching to let their lips meet.

Cadence groans and hides her head on his neck once again.

"Can't we stay for another hour?" She protested and let herself nuzzle the latter's neck. Raleigh just stays still as she does, holding her tighter.

"You know just how much I'd love that but I bet Fiona would disagree." Just then, her phone buzzed once again. Fiona's caller ID appearing on her screen. Raleigh takes it and answers the call.

"Hey, Fiona." He answers brightly. His husky voice long gone. Cadence chuckles as Raleigh continues bickering with her publicist on the phone.

It was after a few minutes when Raleigh sets the phone down on the night stand that he rolls them over, he ends up hovering on top of her.

"My manager talked with Fiona and it's bad news." Raleigh smirks as he lowers himself to trace kisses on Cadence's neck. She giggles at the sudden contact, lulling her head back to give his boyfriend more access.

"How bad?" Cadence asked him as he goes to kiss her on the lips once again.

"Let's just say, a pap saw me walking into your house last night." Cadence hums and pushed him to sit. She moves to straddle him.

"That's not so bad." Cadence says unfazed, trailing Raleigh's neck and chest with her fingers as she follows them with little kisses. The man held her on the waist pulling her impossibly close.

"Except they saw me carrying a box of condoms." Just like a lightning, Cadence's expression changed as she moved away from Raleigh's body.

"They did what?!" She asked, obivously surprised. Well who wouldn't be? The press will eat this issue. Especially when both of them are coming out with an album next month. Especially when they allegedly broke up three weeks ago.

"They saw me walking into your house with a box of condoms in hand." Raleigh chuckles and pulls her back to him. He leans his forehead against hers and smiles. "It isn't that bad, babe."

"Raleigh, we broke up three weeks ago." Cadence says emphasizing the word broke up as if it'll knock some sense into him.

"That's what they know." Raleigh shrugs, Cadence hits his shoulder lightly and stands up. Grabbing clean towels and heading into the shower. "Oh in the shower? Again?"

"You're not joining me for shower today, Mr.Carrera!" Cadence says out loud just as he was about to enter. He laughs and moves away going back to bed as he waits for her to finish.

This will be a long day.

---

They arrived at Overknight early since they did not make any stops today, Cadence did not even speak to him during the whole ride. She just leaned on his shoulders and not say anything. Not that Raleigh would wish for anything else though. Holding Cadence in his arms is more than enough, but surely, being able to tell the world that she is a big part of his life rather than a phase would be great. They walked into the studio hand in hand. Cadence stayed quiet despite Raleigh's efforts to open up a conversation one after another. They sat side by side into a couch in front of Fiona and Raleigh's publicist, Edward.

"I said that you two should be careful." It was the first thing they heard from the two. Cadence's heart beats fast on her chest. Unable to make herself feel at ease because of the possible scenarios this event might lead up to.

She doesn't get nervous often, but then this might affect both of their careers, and she wouldn't like it if this will harm Raleigh's career in any way. She looks down as the publicists talks about the issue, thinking of ways to avoid further controversies.

"If we're talking about publicity then this issue is definitely doing great in terms of exposure. America loved their relationship, don't you think?" Edward scrolls through twitter showing that the netizens mostly had positivie reactions regarding this.

Some even thinks it's funny how their relationship is an open secret the company is trying to hide. Cadence plays with her hands, still unable of what to make of it. Suddenly, Raleigh's hand covered hers and gives it a little squeeze. When she looks at him, she saw Raleigh grinning at her. So she smiles, too.

They continued discussing with their publicists unable to come up with a definite solution, but with the current position of the issue, it seems like there's no way that it'll worsen. After an hour, Fiona decided that it was enough talk for a day.

"I can see that the issue has no significant effect on your standings. I'll leave it up to you both."

Just like that they were dismissed. They said their goodbyes and head home right after.

---

Contrary to what Raleigh had initially thought, today went by fast. They dozed off to sleep right after they reached home and they played a couple of movies during the afternoon, making out a few times in between. Yet, they still haven't decided on what they should do next.

It was night and Cadence is almost done cooking for dinner. Raleigh, on the other hand, is on the kitchen bar stool when he decided to bring the topic up.

"I want to go public." He says randomly as he takes in the sight of his girlfriend moving across the kitchen. Looking a lot more beautiful wearing her messy bun and without make ups on.

This is the kind of sight he would kill to see everyday. The kind of moment he would like to boast around the world. He's the lucky man who gets to eat Cadence Dorian's cooking every day, what's there not to be smug about? He chuckles when he realized Cadence still hasn't moved since he says it. He stands up and goes behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning down on her shoulder.

"I want to tell the world that we own each other, Cadence." He says, placing a soft kiss on her exposed shoulder. Cadence turns the stove off as she looks over her shoulder to reach his lips for a kiss.

"What if some of your fans become mad again?" She says, now leaning her head into Raleigh's chest.

"They're not fans if they act like that. Besides, I don't intend on having fans forever. On the other hand..." he trails off and perched a kiss on top of her head. "... I plan to stick with you from now on."

Cadence chuckles at this, turning around and dragging Raleigh back into the living room where she pushed her boyfriend into the couch and she sits on his lap. Raleigh's arms are wrapped into her in seconds.

"Is this real? Raleigh Carrera being cheesy? Sounds like headlines to me." She teased as she loops her arms around Raleigh's neck.

"Make it a headline then, I don't care." He says nuzzling her neck. "If that's how you want to go public then so be it. Good way, too, since they'll realize I probably plan on marrying you."

"And do you?"

"Of course, hermosa." He chuckles placing yet another kiss on her neck. Cadence giggles and hugs him tighter.

"I love you."

"I love you more, Cadence."

"You go and tell the world how crazy you are for me then."

Raleigh placed one more kiss before the latter stood up and heads back into the kitchen. He follows after a few seconds hastily snapping and image of his girlfriend. Then he opens twitter and types, attaching the picture he just took, clicking on the tweet button once he's done.

He chuckles as their friends replied one by one. The people went crazy, as their names enter the worldwide trends in just a few minutes. Cadence confusedly looked at him as she unlocks her phone only to see his tweet.

"God, why is my boyfriend like this?" She frowns and placed their food in front of Raleigh who is still busy scrolling through the tweets. Cadence sits beside him and sends a tweet.

"What's this? You actually don't mean..." Raleigh trails off and shakes his head, moving closer to Cadence. "Nah, you won't break up with me." He says sneaking his arms around her waist immediately.

"Oh, who told you?" Cadence raises her eyebrows, bringing her tweet to life as he teased his boyfriend. Yet, Raleigh didn't budge. He still wears his confident smirk, inching himself closer to her. He leans his head on Cadence.

"You did."

They both laughed as they started eating. Finally relieved that they wouldn't be sneaking out for a date tomorrow, or the next few days, or ever. They happily ate dinner. Glad that they can finally date freely now.

---

EXTRA:

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Weak Heart

*Tom Hiddleston x Reader

*Request from Wattpad: “Can I request a song fic for Tom Hiddleston. The song is weak heart by zara larsson”

*Warnings: Kinda unhealthy relationship, vague references to sex and alcohol. Let me know if I missed anything.

*A/N: As we all know I’m terrible at doing requests in a decent time frame. This request was from back in June (I think?) but I had fun writing it (and listening to the song while I was working). Happy Holidays everyone!

Song || My Ko-Fi

**********

Early morning / Someone's calling / Who could this be? / Reach my phone and / Your name showing / On my caller ID / I decline / then change my mind / and call you back up

When you first met Tom, the first thing you noticed about him was his charm. Well, the second thing. Of course you saw how attractive he was, and when you found out just how nice he was on top of that? He got ten times more attractive. You met him on set - it was your first leading role and he was an absolute dream to work with. He could tell you were a little nervous and was willing to do anything to help you put forth your best performance.

Late nights working with him, shooting scenes and running lines, dinners and drinks shared, they all added up to the biggest crush on someone that you saw as so incredibly out of your league. On wrap day, you decided to just go for it. You, of course, ran all the information by your friends before coming to this decision, not wanting to risk an awkward press junket. Once you got the go ahead that it seemed like he was into you, you went ahead and asked him on a date.

There were a few months that things had to go long distance, but knowing that you’d be reunited soon made it worth it. Both of you would fly out to visit the other for a few days at a time, and you could say that you were legitimately happy with the new relationship. It worked until it didn’t.

Once the press junket was done and each of you started working on your own projects, it was just incredibly difficult to find time for each other. The week or so every month shrunk to a few days at a time, then to one day, and then to nothing for a couple months. You knew it would be difficult - you were both fairly sought after, especially after your movie together - but you didn’t realize it would be like this. The promises you made at the beginning to call every day, video chat every weekend, text throughout the day seemed less and less feasible, and they didn’t even happen all that often. You weren’t yourself, and the people around you started to notice. You spent your days looking at your phone, waiting to see if he’d sent you a text, or maybe even tried to call you. It took nearly a year of this going on for you to finally end things when the two of you happened to be in New York for your own interviews.

It had been nearly a year after your whole situation ended, but you still missed him dearly. There were no ill feelings towards him. It wasn’t like the two of you ended on terrible terms; it was a simple case of right person, wrong time. The memories of the good times were still there, but there just weren’t enough to override the months of loneliness and hurt you went through.

You didn’t know what time it was when your phone blared on the bedside table, but you knew it had to be early from the darkness still outside. You blindly grabbed for your phone, trying to make yourself the slightest bit aware. When you checked just who was calling you at this ungodly hour, you nearly dropped your phone. Hiddleston.

You immediately declined the call, trying to calm your racing heart. It took a few seconds before you changed your mind, calling back. He picked up before you could even have the chance to steady your nerves.

“Hey,” he said. It’d been a while since you heard his voice like this. Sure, you saw his interviews every now and then, but this was different. Like it was just for you.

“Hey.” You didn’t know what else you could say. What do you say to the person you were still in love with, even though you ended things a year ago? What are you even supposed to do?

“I’m sorry, I forgot about the time difference. What time is it for you?” Tom asked. You could tell he was trying to do small talk, to get past the initial awkwardness.

“It’s five in the morning, Tom. Are you in London?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” It was something that happened a fair bit when the two of you were dating. Tom would forget that there were a full eight hours between the two of you, calling at odd hours in the morning until the two of you found a time that really worked. “Have you talked to your agent lately?”

“Not since yesterday, no. What have you heard?”

“I’m going to be starting work on a project soon, and they asked if I had any people in mind to be my costar. I could only think of you.” There was something else, a deeper meaning behind his words. Maybe you were overthinking it, but you swore there was the slightest bit of longing there. Why would he recommend you for a role when there was bound to be an awkwardness between you? Did he miss you like you missed him? “I understand if you don’t want to work with me, but please read the script at least. I think you’ll like it.”

And there was the charm that made you fall for him. “Yeah, I’ll read it. I can be professional.”

“Great.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, uh, (y/n)? I’m really glad you didn’t block me.” You wouldn’t admit it, but you were too. The two of you didn’t have anything else to talk about, so the call ended fairly soon after that. You couldn’t convince yourself to just go back to sleep. Your mind was racing and you couldn’t convince your body to just lay still. Now that you knew you should be expecting a call from your agent in the next few hours, there was no way you could relax. So instead you were pacing your living room, Netflix playing on your tv just to provide some background noise. What would you do when you saw him again?

You come over / I say slow now / This can't go on / Grab a chair, please / Sit right there it's / Time we had a talk

The second you walked in to the table read, you spotted him. It would’ve been hard to miss him, chatting with some others, that heart-melting smile bright on his face. You didn’t know what to do. There was the part of you that wanted to go up to him, just go back to the time when things were good, act like nothing happened over the past couple of years. But then there was the part of you that was stuck on the times you spent waiting by the phone, the moments you wanted him there for you, all the times he just wasn’t. It wasn’t his fault, with both of you having busy schedules and then the time difference between you.

You found your way over to the refreshments, sipping on some water as you watched the room. There were some others you recognized from your projects over the years, but no one you could easily mesh with to distract you until the table read started. Just as you were going to attempt to join some conversation, you saw the moment Tom realized you were there. He did a double take before quickly excusing himself from his conversation, quickly crossing the room to be by your side.

“(Y/n), it’s been a while,” he told you, a shy little smile gracing his lips.

“Yeah, it has been,” you said. “How have you been?”

Catching up was easy. You had forgotten just how easy it was to be with him, how easy it was to talk to him and just be yourself. The two of you talked until it was time for the table read to start, and once the table read was over, Tom invited you to grab some dinner. You knew you shouldn’t say yes, but the little hopeful look he had was too much. You sent your manager a text, letting them know they wouldn’t have to send a car for you.

It was too easy to fall back into step with Tom. You tried to remember what it was like when the two of you were apart, busy with your own schedules and lives, but when he was here next to you, it was so easy to forget. You could see things going back to the way they were with the little things - running lines together, getting lunch or dinner with one another, not even mentioning the time you nodded off in his trailer and woke up to him skimming through his script, sneaking looks at you like a schoolkid with a crush - and you needed to sort things out before they got out of hand.

“Are you kidding me? It’s a suicide mission!” You yelled at him, stepping just a smidge too far into his personal space.

“It’s what needs to be done. You know we have to do whatever it takes,” he said calmly, looking down at you. You could feel your body burning at the gaze, but he what he was saying was pure insanity. Almost automatically, you brought your hand up to smack him, but he easily caught your wrist, turning it and forcing your arm down.

“You can’t do this,” you choked out as he pulled you closer.

“Say what you actually mean.”

“You can’t do this to me. If you die-”

“Then I’ll just have to not die.” He said it like it was so easy. Before you could say anything, he pulled you in, kissing you soundly, passionately. When he pulled back, he gave you a knowing smile. “It’ll be easy, especially with you watching my back.”

“And cut! That was great guys,” the director said, pulling you out of the scene. You and Tom looked over at him, still standing way too close than you should have once the shot ended. “We should probably do another take or two just in case, but I want you guys to keep that energy. Take twenty minutes then come back.”

“Thank you!” You and Tom said at the same time, finally putting some distance between the two of you. As soon as you were far enough off set, you pulled Tom to the side. You tried not to notice how right your hand felt in his, dropping it quickly.

“Are you okay?” Tom asked as soon as you were somewhat secluded from the rest of the crew.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Listen, I think we should talk about whatever’s going on here,” you huffed, looking away. You didn’t know how you were supposed to actually have this conversation with him when you were struggling to even look at him after bringing it up. “Just… come with my to my apartment after shoot. We shouldn’t have this conversation on set.”

“Yes, of course.” It was almost amazing how fast Tom got serious. You only needed to finish these last few takes and then you’d be free to have this conversation. If only you could figure out what you wanted to say.

The apartment you’d been renting for the shoot was cold and empty when you got back, Tom following close behind. You made a beeline for the kitchen, putting your bag down on the counter as you went to grab something to drink. Tom stood awkwardly, watching as you went about your little routine. “Uh, well, feel free to sit wherever. Do you want something to drink?”

“No, thank you,” Tom said as he took a seat at the breakfast bar. You stayed on the opposite end of the counter, needing the distance between the two of you. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Forgive me if I’m the only one seeing it, but have you noticed something happening here? Like, how it was before we got together last time?” You asked, not daring to look at him. Maybe you were just reading too much into it, and he was just being the polite person he was known to be. Maybe you’d just forgotten that was how he was with everyone.

“(Y/n), darling, could you look at me?” His soothing voice drew your eyes up to his. “I didn’t want to come on too strong, but working with you again was just an excuse to be near you. Of course I think you’re perfect for the role, and I love working with you, but I missed you and I didn’t know how to get you back in my life. I’ve missed you more than you could know.”

You looked back at the counter, your heart pounding. You must have heard him wrong. There was no way he wanted you back. Every bit of pain you felt when the two of you were together - or, more accurately, apart - came rushing back. “We can’t do this again.”

You heard Tom move, probably getting off of the stool. Before you knew it, you felt one of his hands on your shoulder as the other one tilted your chin up. Your breath hitched at his proximity, reminding you of the scene earlier. “And why not?”

“Not when we both get so busy and we can’t even properly be together. We both have careers, we live on opposite ends of the world,” you said. He hushed you, gently enough that you weren’t annoyed by it like you would’ve been otherwise.

“We can figure it out this time, get it right,” he reassured you. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

You let yourself relax in his hold, and Tom took the moment to search your face before leaning in slowly, still giving you enough time to push him away or move. The kiss was different from the ones you shared on set, actual emotion poured into this one. It was more than your characters sharing a heat-filled moment before a dangerous mission, it was just you and Tom. Tom kissed you softly, but that didn’t mean there was any less passion behind it.

When you woke the next morning, Tom’s arm was a solid weight around your waist, holding you close to his bare chest. The memories of the previous night flooded back. There wasn’t much talking once he kissed you, but there was touching. Soft, gentle touches like both of you were worried of scaring the other away. Light kisses pressed to bared skin, not wanting to leave any marks for the makeup team to deal with the next day. There would be time for pure lust later, the two of you only concerned with reacquainting yourselves with one another. Tom stirred beside you, pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder as you melted into his touch. You could worry about the consequences later.

So I'mma keep singing this sad song / It never felt better to be wrong

It was easy to slip back into the way things had been at the beginning of your relationship the first time around. You didn’t want to tell anyone you were together again - knowing how the rumor mill ran wild, and that was without the tabloids being involved - but it was almost embarrassing how obvious it was. If one of you had a scene and the other didn’t, the other could always be found nearby, watching with a fond smile. The chemistry you had in scenes together was insane, enough so that your director commented on it. Everything just seemed to fall into place.

When you weren’t needed on set, the two of you spent the night together at one of your apartments. You fell into an easy routine: cooking dinner with each other when you weren’t exhausted (getting takeout when you were), watching something together or running lines before you had to head to bed, cuddling until you fell asleep. It was more domestic than when you dated before, and it just felt right. You knew your time like this was limited, but you couldn’t help to try to forget it. You just wanted to enjoy it while you could.

Before you knew it, wrap day was here. You were immensely proud of the work you and everyone else had done for the movie, but you couldn’t help to worry about what exactly this meant for your rekindled relationship. Even as you finished the last scene and everyone applauded for the end of the shoot, the thought was still at the back of your mind. You were supposed to be overjoyed, glad for the chance to have even a short break, but you couldn’t get too lost in the moment. You smiled and chatted with the rest of the lingering cast and crew before they had to start cleaning up, trying to ignore the slight feeling of dread you had. Apparently you hadn’t done a good job at it, especially when Tom pulled you aside after you got invited to drinks with the rest of the cast. 

“Are you okay, darling?” Tom asked, searching for something in your look. “You did fantastic, but are you okay?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m just kinda sad we’re actually done.” You looked away, worried he’d be able to tell somehow.

“That’s not entirely true, now is it?”

You sighed. Of course he could tell. “I mean, you’re going back to London now, aren’t you?”

“Darling, you don’t have to worry about that. We said we’d figure it out the right way this time, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, but we haven’t even really talked about what we mean by that.”

“How about after drinks with the rest, we get food and go back to my apartment to talk through it? And we still have the rest of the week before you go back to LA, right?”

“Right.” You didn’t know how exactly you guys were supposed to talk through it - you thought you had done a pretty good job at that the first time around - but you were willing to believe he had the answers. He had to have the answers this time.

Yeah, I've a weak heart, baby, I've a weak heart

You had to admit, there were times when you wondered why you were going through this yet again. Though this time was significantly better than the last, there were still times when you needed Tom there and he just couldn’t be there. Even though the two of you tried making trips to see each other, your work schedules and just life in general got in the way of spending any significant periods of time together. Phone and video calls became the most frequent form of communication, with most calls happening first thing in the morning for you, the middle of the afternoon for Tom. Just the fact that you guys talked every day made it seem worthwhile to hold onto.

“Darling, you sound like you’re still asleep,” Tom joked as you groaned, covering your eyes with your arm.

“That’s because I kinda am. I’m not supposed to go back for filming for another couple days,” you told him. “Waking up this early is actual hell, I don’t know how you do it.”

“I’ve gotten used to it, though it is harder to leave when you’re sleeping next to me.” You couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not, but you knew he did linger a little longer when you were visiting one another. “How’s the show been going?”

Though you normally didn’t take part in pilot season, a show writer had come to your agent with a chance that you couldn’t pass up. You’d worked with them a couple times when you were just starting out, and now they wanted you to star in a new drama. You talked about it with Tom a few times, not wanting to really say anything until you knew if the show got picked up by a network or not. “It’s definitely going. I really like the people I’m working with, I think you’d get along with a few of them.”

“Is that so?” Tom seemed slightly distracted, but as far as you knew, he wasn’t supposed to be doing anything today. You could hear sounds of the city around him, like he was taking a walk or something.

“What are you up to? You seem kinda… I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry, darling. Just give me a few minutes and you’ll have my full attention, I promise.” You held in the sigh that you wanted to give so bad, a little annoyed that the half hour you normally spent on the phone during the day was being interrupted.

“Alright. Do you want me to keep talking or do you want to tell me about the project you just signed on to?”

“Tell me more about your show, I want to hear your voice. I’ve missed it.”

“We talked yesterday.” You couldn’t help but smile even as you teased Tom. He was so sweet without even really intending to be. The moments that made you melt were always just Tom being honest. It was insane what that man did to you.

“Indulge me, please sweetheart?” You couldn’t say no to him.

As you were in the middle of telling a story from the first table read when you heard knocking at your door. You groaned as you finally got out of bed, making Tom laugh. You told him to wait for a second as you put your phone down on the counter, going to answer the door. You were glad you put down your phone, because the second you opened the door, you knew you would have dropped it. “Tom?”

“I was going to use the spare key, but I didn’t want to worry you by just coming in,” Tom explained, hanging up the call on his end. Just as he put his phone in his pocket, you launched yourself forward to hug him. He laughed as he held you close.

“Please tell me I’m not dreaming.”

“I’m here, darling. I’ll be here for at least a couple months before my next project starts.” You pressed your face into the crook of his neck, trying to ground yourself in the reality that he was here. You knew he wouldn’t be here for as long as you’d like, but he was here now, and you wanted to savor the time you had with him. Even if things weren’t the way you imagined, the way you would’ve preferred, he was here now, and that was enough. You could ignore the ache in your heart when he was gone, the nights spent alone, everything, if it meant you could have moments like this.

**********

Permanent Tag List: @treatallwithkindness, @laic2299

[ghoste-catte]

multiples of 3 ✌🏼-sgmdrcklee

@sagemoderocklee you’re really trying to kill me lol

This got long as heck so I’m throwing it behind a cut. Read on for answers and fic recs! (Mostly the fic recs)

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year

This is a tough one to answer for me generally because I tend to spit words onto the page and once I have written them I no longer remember writing them. And 2020 has stretched on so long that as I’m looking at some of the stuff I wrote in the beginning of this year, I hardly remember what’s even in it. I think at one point someone (@goblin-draws maybe?) mentioned a line in Sleeptalk with Me where the innkeeper calls Kankuro “chubby boy”, and I was like “Oh ... did I write that? Yeah, sounds like something I’d have someone say to Kankuro ...” 

It might be easier to talk about this in other terms. One of the scenes I worked the hardest on this year was the fight scene in Chapter 3 of Skeleton Key. The original draft of the scene was a lot shorter, and a lot of the backstory for Misaki’s revenge quest was elided. The scene as originally written was clunky, confusing, and as my lovely wife/beta put it sounded “like a Naruto villain” was doing the dialogue, when previously she’d found Misaki sinister and intriguing. Which wasn’t what I wanted. I basically entirely overhauled the scene and re-wrote it several times. I wouldn’t call it a ‘favorite’ scene (I hate writing fight scenes generally; having chosen to immerse myself in a fandom about ninja where much of the drama comes from battle is my eternal regret), but it is a scene that I put a lot of effort into, and I’m moderately satisfied with the improved product that resulted.  

6. least popular fic this year

By far my least popular fic by kudos ever is Pitch Perfect. Which makes complete sense to me. It’s a fic where I’ve written 2 characters who are men in canon as cis women, which pushes a lot of uncomfortable buttons for a lot of people. It contains F/F smut, which is something that a lot of people who choose to read GaaLee probably aren’t out there looking for. And people comment and kudos less on smutfics, I assume because they don’t want their username attached to porn or because they’re embarrassed (which I totally get, no shame there). It’s a modern AU with a sports twist, and AUs are often less popular than canonverse in my experience. I will say though that it has a surprisingly high number of private bookmarks compared to other fics with comparable hit and kudos counts. So I assume people are just a bit more shy because the premise is so ‘out there’. I will say as far as my fics go, it’s one of my personal favorites and probably one of the most intimate and true-to-life things I’ve written? So it actually is a little comforting to know that something so vulnerable has relatively little attention. 

9. longest wip of the year

If we’re going based on stuff that’s partially published but not complete, my Gaara-adopts-Shinki fic On My Way Home is my longest in-progress fic at just over 20k words, although technically I started it in 2019. It will probably end up being right around 40-50k when it’s complete, which might end up situating it as my longest fic ever? 

12. favorite character to write about this year

Okay, this is an easy one. I love writing Kankuro. I think he is hilarious. He is the devil on my shoulder and a creature of pure id, and every time I write a line of dialogue for him it’s the summation of my rudest thoughts about a situation put in the crudest possible terms. If there were a megaphone directly from my unfiltered brain giving running commentary, that would be Kankuro.

15. something you learned this year

I have learned SO much this year! This is only my 2nd year properly ‘focusing’ on writing fic and investing any substantial time into it. I think the biggest thing I have learned, though, is how to overcome a lot of my self-consciousness about writing stories with NSFW elements in them. Starting out, I was so extremely shy and mortified about writing fic at all, much less things like hugging or (god forbid!) kissing. So taking on the smut prompts I took this year and really buckling down on learning to write the mechanics and emotions of sex has been a massive learning experience. (And sorry, by the way, if I haven’t gotten to a prompt you sent me in January yet. I do intend to write all of them eventually!) 

18. current number of WIPs

Ah. The call-out question. My general fic process is idea -> outline -> wip -> edit -> ready to post (where the final draft sits in my docs until I gin up the courage to actually post it). So skipping fics that are just “ideas” on the big mega-list, I have 3 fics in the “outline” stage, 13 fics in the partially written “wip” stage, 1 fic in the “editing” stage, and 2 that are complete but yet-to-be-posted. So, like, 19 total in the offing. (The “ideas” list is even worse lol.)

21. most memorable comment/review

This is such a difficult question because every single comment I get makes me do a little dance for joy. That’s not an exaggeration btw I really sit there and like bounce around in my seat for a moment before I open the Ao3 email. I am not an especially emotive person irl, but there have been times I’ve been brought near tears by comments. I’ll also occasionally show them to my wife like !! look at this nice thing this person said !! and she’s indulgent enough to actually read them. There have been a couple comments that have really stuck with me, that I starred in my inbox and return to frequently, but I don’t want to bring attention to someone else without their permission. I will say there was one person recently who mentioned (not in the comments on one of my fics) that they had found someone who does physical binding of fanfiction and they were about to ask my permission to do that, but then the person who does the binding only does certain ships that she likes ... so that, just, absolutely floored me. The idea that someone might actual want a physical copy of my stupid little ninja fanfictions is, like, so truly immense and completely overwhelming?

24. favorite fic you read this year

You can’t make me pick just one!! (For reference, I have bookmarked right around 180 fics in the past year, and that’s not including fics that I just read, really enjoyed, but didn’t think I could ‘handle’ a second time around.) So, skipping over the ones that AREN’T Naruto ... here is a brief sampling of some faves:

Silica by deepestbluest (rated E, GaaLee, ShikaTema, and Kankiba) - An absolute emotional powerhouse of a fic that manages to skillfully interweave three complex relationship dynamics, satisfactorily resolve them, and give you ALL the sandsibs feels in just over 10k words. 

Childhood Not-Friends (series) by MegaWallflower (rated G, KakaGai) - @megawallflower is a KakaGai god for good reason. Absolutely adorable relationship development fics (five of them!) with the premise that Kakashi thinks he and Gai have been dating since they were kids ... Gai just hasn’t been clued into it yet. These stories will give you heart-eyes.

The Bright Side by gidget_goes (rated T, GaaLee) - This is the Buffy AU I never knew I needed, because I’ve never seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But truly you don’t need any Buffy knowledge to enjoy this fic. @gidget-goes command of imagery is masterful, and the way they manage to snap from snark to tugging at your heartstrings is awe-inspiring. Gaara breaks my heart in this. And did I mention Kankuro wears a 10-gallon hat? Because Kankuro wears a 10-gallon hat. 

Nature vs. Nurture by Bidiza (rated T, GaaLee) - So introspective and so poetic. This looks like a WIP but it’s actually multiple oneshots, although by the end of the second one you’ll be dying for the rest of the promised series. 

I’m a Fool to Want You by BeelieveRosemarie (rated M, GaaLee) - Turns out @tuttiefruttiegaalee isn’t just an amazing artist, they’re a writer, too! Slow-dancing that will break your heart. Listen to the Frank Sinatra song while you read this for extra tear-jerking effect.

Let Love be Known (series) by TenTomatoes (rated G, GaaLee) - This is the twist on the arranged marriage trope and Beauty and the Beast that I didn’t realize this fandom was missing. I’m absolutely obsessed with their concept of Gaara as the Beast

I Could Be by LilacNoctua (rated T, GaaLee) - I know I big up @lilac-writes Worthwhile series a lot (deservedly so, because it’s so good it makes you look at the series and go “Why the fuck didn’t Kishimoto make this canon exactly like this?”), but this story made me absolutely die between the butterflies in my stomach and how hard I was laughing. There’s one line--you’ll know it when you read it--that absolutely bowls me over every time I re-read this. 

And Then Continue by EgregiousDerp (rated E, GaaLee) - Obviously I’m biased because this was a gift, but @egregiousderp writes some of the the best characterized porn I’ve ever read. You will read this and go “Wow! This is exactly how it would happen!” It’s such a tender, beautiful exploration of Gaara’s insecurities and a very real feeling first time, for all its soft edges. 

Cake by citronelle (rated E, KanKiba) - I don’t even know what to say about this one other than ... phew, this is extremely well written, extremely hot, and extremely in character. Just read it. I promise it’s worth it. 

Saudade by YumKiwiDelicious (rated M, GaaLee) - I’ve run around reccing this to just about every person on the face of the earth at this point. If you’re in the GaaLee Discord you probably saw everyone salivating over every new update of this fic and with good reason. The twists and turns of this fic will have you on the edge of your seat, second guessing every single moment. And it will break your heart in the meantime. What more could you want?

the love potion commotion by floating_cats (rated T, NejiSasu with background GaaLee) - One of those fics where you wish the author’s sense of humor was your own. So many hilarious moments in this story, and it brought me a new appreciation for a ship I never would have even considered. 

Finger Lickin’ Good by whazzername (rated E, GaaLee) - Whazz is another one of those authors where I literally want to rec every single thing she’s ever written, she’s just that good. (Speaking of which, if you haven’t read Fools Rush In and its sequel Degrees of Separation, you’re missing out on the best possible Metal origin story of all time. Don’t deprive yourself of this.) But this story is just ... so incredibly in character for a situation that reads like crack. It’s handled with the utmost straight-facedness and it’s so. freakin’. good. 

heart lines by winterberry_holly (rated M, NejiTen and GaaLee) - I don’t even have the words to describe how perfect this fic is. It’s a truly beautiful exploration of Tenten’s relationship with her palmistry hobby and with the people in her life. My heart ached with every single line. 

Standing on Ceremony by kuroashi (rated E, GaaLee) - This is just ... such a beautiful wedding story. So lovely, like getting the best possible warm hug from someone you love. If that love one was slightly strange and socially inept, because, well. It’s still Gaara doing Gaara-things. @baphometsss is another one of those authors whose handling of smut scenes is so stupendous it makes me wildly jealous. 

Thrall by RokiRiot (rated T, GaaLee) - Idiots-to-lovers with a magic AU twist! This is such a wonderful story, and Gaara’s internal monologue is absolutely amazing. And Lee is Deaf in this fic, which I never ever get to see and which absolutely made my entire day/week/month/life. 

Make-Out Consequences by LuxaLucifer (rated M, KakaGai with background canon Boruto ships) - I laughed so hard reading this that I had to take a breather to stop crying. That’s not an exaggeration. The characterization in this fic is impeccable and the humor is to die for. Naruto’s buffoonery truly shines here, and the author’s wit is just beyond anything I could even properly summarize. Hysterical. A++. 

Thirteen Strokes by Luna_Lee (rated T, GaaLee) - Again, like, if you aren’t reading literally everything @sagemoderocklee writes, are you even really a GaaLee fan? But this fic is beyond even for one of Eeri’s incredibly excellent writings. The worldbuilding in this, the cultural notes, the imagery ... it’s all so lush and so fulfilling and so beautiful. It’s a story about love and it’s a story that you can tell has love poured into every single line. I can’t recommend it enough. 

Checkmate by shadowstrangle (rated G, GaaLee) - The pettiness vibes ... this is so funny. Such a cute story and I love Gaara’s sense of humor here. Not a lot of writers give him a sense of humor, but I love how @shadowstrangle gives him a slightly odd, slightly left-of-center take on humor that still manages to be so funny. 

To Court a Village by FanFictionEngineer (rated G, GaaLee) - Another one where my bias is perhaps slightly obvious, but the premise of this fic is amazing. I love cultural misunderstandings, and the idea of Lee trying his hardest to court Gaara ineptly is just so perfect. 

affliction of feeling by theformerone (rated E, SakuHina) - One of those ships that it would never have occurred to me to seek out but that absolutely works with how the author’s set it up. The dynamics here are delicious. It’s so rare to find good F/F porn but this is one of them for sure. 

Tried and Tested by twentysomething (Rated M, KakaIru with background canon Boruto ships and GaaLee) - Iruka’s narration in this story is just incredible. I haven’t laughed this hard reading a fic in ages. And the concept alone (that Naruto can’t be promoted to Hokage until he passes his chuunin exams ... as an adult ... and Sasuke gets dragged along for the ride) is just brilliant. Amazing concept, amazingly executed. 

a fireside waltz by winterberry_holly (rated M, GaaLee) - I really tried not to rec a single author more than once here but for this one I had to. I got about halfway through this fic and immediately started running around ringing the town crier bell like READ THIS FIC! READ THIS FIC! An absolutely smoldering Regency AU with such beautiful, intimate dance scenes. My heart was racing every single time their fingers brushed. If you don’t read anything else on this list, at the very least read this. 

27. favorite fanfic author of the year

I really can’t pick just one. I am lucky enough that @egregiousderp passes me her drafts under the table before (or without) publishing, and getting to read those is a private treat of unparalleled proportions. Some of my favorite things I’ve read this year I can’t even rec because they’re her unpublished stuff. 

30. favorite fandom to read fic from this year

This is gonna come off strange because I just wrote such a long Naruto reclist, but I recently watched What We Do in the Shadows, and found an incredibly talented group of authors in that fandom with really amazingly good dialogue and narrative voice. I also read a lot of fic for the new It movies (even though I couldn’t watch the 2nd one for ~reasons~), and damn if there isn’t a talented crop of authors in that fandom, too. And finally with ATLA making its way onto Netflix, I had the chance to start watching that for the first time and found a ton of really good fic there as well! 

fanfic end of the year asks!

[youllneverknowrac]

Oscar Diaz-Safe

For @dolanackles

You were with Oscar for 3 months before he got sent to Corcoran on a four year sentence, everybody telling you to just go ahead and leave him since the relationship was still sort of new with you guys. You didn’t listen though, staying with him the entire time, falling deeper in love with him each visit and longing for his release so you could resume a normal life with him. Which was what you two were doing after he got out a few weeks ago...however everything changed when a Prophet and his girl ended up dead. All accusing fingers pointing to the Santos. That’s when you noticed Oscar’s behavior change and a shift in your guy’s world. He didn’t want to go out on dates or do simple mundane things anymore like go shopping. The only time you saw him, being late at night when he would come over to your place, but even that stopped. Actually everything stopped, it’s like he fell off the face of the Earth and didn’t bother to tell you.

You find yourself sitting on Oscar’s steps, waiting for him to return home. You’ve been trying to get in touch with him the last few days, but every time you called or texted he ignored it. You feared something must have happened to him, however all that turned into anger when you ran into a confused Cesar this morning that was just as lost as you were. He actually informed you that Oscar was completely fine and going on about his day like usual. To say you were pissed would be under doing it.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you see his car pull into the driveway, thankful that he was alone and not with his homies. He climbs out of the car as you stand up, locking eyes with each other,“What are you doing here?” He asks annoyingly, his face keeping it’s hard features.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘What am I doing here’? I deserve answers Oscar! You’ve been blowing me off for the last couple of days, what kind of shit is that?!” You say like it was the most obvious thing in the world, wasting no time in approaching him.

“Maaaann, go home Y/N.” He says trying to get past you to head up the driveway.

“No, fuck you, you inconsiderate asshole. I thought you were hurt or dead in a ditch somewhere!” You fire back, shoving his chest with all your force,”Stop trying to walk away from me Oscar.”

“Déjame en paz!” He yells, grabbing a hold of your wrists and holding them to your chest,”Go the fuck home and don’t come back.” He says slowly, as if you were some sort of child and not his girlfriend of many years, even if most of those years he was behind bars.

“Just tell me what I did wrong? What changed? We were just...we were just happy.” You say, your voice growing quiet as you refuse to look at him in the eyes,”You just got out, you should want to spend time with me.”

“You were happy. Not me.” Is all he says as he let’s go of you and moves past you to the front door,”I got more important things to worry about now that I’m out. I don’t need you on my back over some some bullshit, besides we’re done if I wasn’t making it clear enough. You were just someone to make the time go by a little faster, and now that I’m free I don’t need you.”

You let his words sink in and register, your heart breaking in half,“You know what, it’s fine. You’re not stuck in a cell so you don’t need me anymore, is that right? Well guess what? I don’t need YOU. I’m too good for you, I should have realized that after you went to prison for four years and left me all alone. To caught up in the game to realize that you have a down ass female in front of you.” You say wanting to hurt his feelings like he just hurt yours,”Money, drugs, and bitches that’s a cholo’s motto right? Thank you Oscar. Thank you for wasting so many years of my life inmate 67345-354.” You tell him, spitting out his prison id number that was etched into your brain,”That’s the only big numbers you’ll ever seen in your life because that’s the only thing you will ever amount to.”

You see the hurt cross his face, Oscar hiding it quickly as you stoop to saying something so low,”Go. Don’t come around here no more.” He demands, giving you one last look before going inside. The door slamming with so much force that you’re surprised the house didn’t fall apart.

You don’t let yourself cry as you begin your walk home, not believing that any of that just happened. That Oscar could drop you like nothing after all that you did for him, after all that he put you through.

“I hate him.” You repeat over and over to yourself, getting stopped by Cesar and his friends walking in the opposite direction a few blocks down.

“Hey Y/N, did you end up getting a hold of Oscar?” The younger Diaz asks

“Yup.” You say, brushing a few pieces of hair behind your ear,”And he broke up with me so there’s that.”

“What? He wouldn’t do that. It has to be a mistake or he’s playing a sick prank.” Cesar defends,”Oscar loves you, I know he does.”

“There is no mistake Cesar, he was pretty clear with his words.” You sigh, blinking back the tears that wanted oh so badly to fall the more you talked about Oscar.

“I’m going to talk to him and find out what’s going on. I just can’t see him leaving you...Oscar’s loyal to loyal people. And you’re as loyal as it gets Y/N.” He continues, his friends staying out of the conversation but nodding their heads in agreement since they knew that you stuck by Oscar.

“It’s fine Cesar, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want you too actually.”

“Y/N.” He groans in protest

“I mean it. I’ll be okay, I just want to get home now and lay down.” You say and give him a sad smile,”Bye Cesar. Bye guys.” You tell the group, walking in between them as they make way for you on the sidewalk. Cesar watching you go, not one to listen to anybody as he says goodbye to his friends and takes off home to find out what was really going on.

~

“Y/N!” You hear the familiar sound of Cesar’s voice, his fist banging on your front door a few days later.

“Cesar? What are you doing here? It’s almost 8 in the morning, shouldn’t you be at school?” You ask tiredly when you swing open the door.

“I’m going, I just had to stop by first and tell you what I heard.” He says with a huge grin on his face.

“Yeah? What did you hear?” You ask confused

“Oscar only broke up with you to keep you safe, I heard him on the phone in his room talking to Sad Eyes. He feels horrible but he thought it was the only way to keep you safe from the Prophets if they decided to seek revenge.”

“What? Are you sure you heard him right?” You say with a shake of your head,”He could have just told me that instead of going M.I.A if that was the case.”

“I’m positive. I knew he wouldn’t just leave you.” Cesar smiles knowingly,”You have to go talk to him. He should still be home.” He encourages

“I don’t know Cesar. I said some pretty messed up things to him out of anger.” You admit, biting the inside of your cheek,”He’s probably glad he left me after what I told him.”

“If he was, then he wouldn’t be complaining to his homie about you. Come on Y/N, just go talk to him. You gotta try, if not for him then for me. You became like a sister to me and I don’t want to see you two end in bad terms.”

“Don’t guilt trip me into talking to your brother.” You gasp and shove his shoulder lightly.

“Did it work?” He asks hopefully, you sigh and take a moment to think for yourself before slowly nodding.

“It did. Fine, I’ll go talk to him, I just gotta get changed first and you gotta get to school.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” He says holding his hands in defense, a small smirk on his lips,”Bye.”

“Bye.” You laugh and shut the door, a bit nervous as you rush to your room. Not knowing if Oscar would forgive you for what you said.

You throw on something casual as quick as you can, not wanting to waste any more time, brushing your teeth after and pulling your hair into a bun. 20 minutes later you step outside and turn to secure the top lock, your body going stiff when you feel someone come up from behind.

“Baby?” You hear Oscar say, his voice scratchy before he clears it, your body relaxing.

You turn around and take in his appearance, his under eyes dark and baggy as if he hasn’t slept in a while,”You scared me...I was just going to your place.” You admit

“Really? It doesn’t matter I’m here now and I couldn’t wait any longer...I’m sorry for everything I said nena, I didn’t mean any of that shit. I just figured you would be safer if we weren’t together from all this Prophet shit. I didn’t want to see you get hurt because of my affiliation with the Santos. We had a sit down with them last night and turns out they found the actual killer.” He explains,”I was going to come straight after, but then I thought that maybe it would be best if I didn’t because like you said, you can do better. Better then someone who could potentially put you in a dangerous situation one day.”

“Oscar I know, Cesar came by and told me all of this. That’s why I was going to your place.” You say and place your hands on either side of his face,”I swear to you, I did not mean any of what I said. I was just so angry and sad, you didn’t deserve all that just for breaking up with me. You are more than your prison numbers and I should have never thrown that in your face. I know how hard it was for you in there and it was a low blow.”

“Nah mami, don’t beat your self up over that. My intention was to be a dick so I deserved everything you said and then some, but now that all this shit is over I want to give you the option of being with me. I’m too selfish to make it for you because I would choose to never leave your side again, these past few days have been absolute hell for me.” He talks, as you move your hands down his sides and take his large ones in yours,”With that being said do you still want to be with me, now that you seen how dangerous shit can potentially get in my life? Think about it nena.”

“Oscar I know being with you comes with a lot of baggage and I’m okay with that. If I wasn’t, why would I stay by your side while you were locked up? I knew from our first date what I was getting into and I still wanted to be with you. I still want to be with you. You got locked up so soon into our relationship, but I always knew something could potentially happen that could affect me as well. But I also knew that I loved you early on and couldn’t let you go no, matter what may come. Always papi, remember? “ You smile and squeeze his hands lightly

“You sure? No backing out after this.”

“Yes I’m sure.” You say with a small laugh as his hands release yours and move to wrap around your waist. Oscar waisting no more time in pressing his lips down to yours. Never letting you go after today.

[labetalol]

paradise kiss... i enjoyed it a lot!! thoughts:

-right off the bad i did not like george. i understand he is so passionate about his work and of course will always choose that way of life over love. i understand that yukari has never had the sort of passion and drive and commitment, because she never was handed the opportunity to do so. she grew to be that way, just as he grew to be boisterous and outgoing and energetic- he had a rich dad, fun friends, a carefree mom. but he made it his mission to blame every problem the two had in their relationship on her- her unwillingness to be great, her complaining, her parents, everything was always on her. just as, she demanded him to be the ideal boyfriend, who calls first and doesn’t flake on dinner plans, but he is anything but a normal boyfriend- hes a lover. he’ll sleep with you make you feel like royalty and then ghost you for weeks until he wants to suck out inspiration from your collarbone. like, how yukari was his muse, he treated her as such. she wasn’t someone to be with long-term. he helped her grow as a person, but that’s all he couldve done. honestly, im not sure how he grew as a person. yukari gained a sense of individualism and passion, whereas george, i guess he was influenced so much by someone that he continued to keep them in mind for the rest of his career. id love to hear anyones thoughts on him, i honestly think he just acted as a catalyst to yukari’s own development, although he didn’t mature at all or get anything out of their relationship except newfound inspiration

-i love isabelle and her little plotline. although i dont like george, she remained wholly devoted to him because he alone made her truly feel listened to as a woman, giving her strength to come out. i love that, and the ending where them two sail off to paris so she can work for him, i mean, although george is weird, their relationship was good as friends, so i think it works out!

-akashi... he was weird. i didn’t like his overuse of british slang LOL but ok seriously it hinted how he sexually abused miwako, which worried me... i lvoe miwako and i don’t like the idea that she only can hold onto him if she offers her body. she did that a lot throughout the anime, to which he normally declined- i mean, they obviously love each other, but his temper flares up erratically and can result in him hurting miwako. when he broke her phone because she texted hiro and she had to lie to yukari saying she dropped it- it oculdve been he hit her and she had to lie saying she fell down the stairs. but obviously.. he grew and they married and had kids and miwako was happy. he learned to accept miwakos love for her childhood crush and that people are bits and pieces of others they were close to and thats FINE. she still loves him and chose him, so... his development was good, i just don’t like him in the beginning. i just hope he grew to really understand the harm he caused to miwako and apologized!

-i am so glad yukari got with hiro. the two were the same, having no aim in life, no motivations, no fire igniting their lives, but then came a love that changed who they were drastically inside. yukari gained a willingness to be great by dating george, hiro gained a willingness to help others/interest in psych by loving miwako. the two accept that they loved others before they found each other, and they talk about it chalantly, but they still look very happy. i love their relationship, ebcause hiro noticed how toxic yukair and george’s relationship was, but rather than trying to snatch her away or steal her or whatever (like what he couldve done with miwako but didnt), he let her live her life and come to terms with what she eneded to on her own. i think thats why hes better than george, because he doesnt impose so much on her. but i am sooo biased because right off the bat i thought hiro was ADORABLE and george was ugly as fuck. his ugly little cowboy hat and toxic tendencies. hiro <3 ok.

-overall i thought the story was great. nana-esque, it presented flawed characters, presented flawed relationships between them, and how they grew and overcame themselves- note, not overcame the flaws. those flaws are there but they learned to not let it bother them anymore. i love how yazawa writes stories because it is so humanly realistic. i recommend paradise kiss, only 48 chapters, it took me less than a week to finish it up in between classes and breaks!! thank you if you read this far <3