#literally my first Nice Good character figure more than a couple inches tall

[pagesofkenna]

I LOVE HER SO MUCH

Also this quote @caitmayart used on the box art 😭

"Being mistaken about the nature of something and discovering its true nature is one of my favorite things in the world to do"

[fruityoosung]

alter ego

pairing : wonwoo x reader

rating : fluff-ish???? lowkey promiscuos

trigger warning : tattoos, substance usage, wonwoo being hot

“choi y/n you’re with jeon wonwoo” the monotonous deliverance from the TA stemmed a sigh that left your lips subconsciously. you turned your head to the right and a steely, dark and unwavering pair of brown eyes met yours. jeon wonwoo, the quiet, dismissive but very intelligent classmate of yours stared into you for a couple seconds before turning back towards his own assignment on his laptop. you merely nod your head to nothing before the TA dismissed the class, causing the flock of students in the history lecture flee from the lecture hall with grace, ready to end their day or attend their next class. some students hung behind to discuss the matters of the assignment with their designated partners and you decided to do the same.

you took your own sweet time packing your laptop into your backpack before a tall, looming figure casts a shadows upon you. you finally had a clear look of him whilst before your eyesight were betraying you. he’s the typical, lowkey stand off, quiet but very attractive young man, a character you often stumble upon at some point of your life. most times, it was more annoying than attractive to you because people like him are very contemptuous and outrageously pompous. you shot up from your seat and stood in front of him, waiting for him to talk to you first since you didn’t want to leave a bad impression towards your project partner.

“we can work on the project at the uni’s library. is tomorrow afternoon okay for you?” he asked, you didn’t realise how deep his voice actually goes. with the thin-rimmed glasses resting upon the bridge of his nose and the cashmere knitted, cream coloured sweater he was wearing, his voice was very uncanny to hear.

“tomorrow afternoon is fine, i’ll e-mail you the materials and we can work from there.” you replied, it was uncomfortable to you while he stood inches away from you and actively studying your face. he nodded and gripped the strap of his backpack before walking away. you did not know how to feel, you cannot deny his attractiveness and the stroke of heat that travels through your body as he stood close towards you.

this should be fun right?

you waited at the table near the windows with your laptop opened in front of you. you’re currently sorting through the materials and crafting a rough draft of your part of the assignment. wonwoo wasn’t late, you were just very early since the professor of your last class couldn’t make it to the lecture. you didn’t realise the time has passed as you typed through your rough draft until the sound of the wooden chair striking against the floor broke you out of your flow of thoughts. you immediately looked up and saw him sitting down directly across from you. being the somewhat inviting person you are, you decided to acknowledge his presence.

“hi, did you have class prior to this?” you asked, fingers resuming to type last few lines of your last rough draft. ever since the TA assigned the project to the both of you, you’ve never spoken to him verbally other than a few

e-mails regarding the materials and the submission of his rough draft for you to proof read and check. you were astounded to receive that e-mail since it was barely a couple hours since the TA had assigned it. of course, being one of the smartest kids in your class, his rough draft was nearly perfect and you only had to tweak a couple words to fit the theme better.

“i had a business management class.” he replied, his fingers began rapidly typing on the keyboard and it grew silent from there. it was almost distracting.

what’s more distracting is his goddamn features. you discreetly studies him as you finish typing the draft. the way the blue light from the screen reflected onto the lenses of his glasses made his eyes appear glittering almost had your heart lurching. the way he chews on his lips and furrowed his eyebrows as he reread the paragraph he wrote made you notice the warmth spreading on your face.

what the fuck? you swore. you’ll never have a chance with him, for all you know he probably hates your ass.

you shook off your thoughts and opened the google docs app and began typing the actual essay for the assignment. the lines above yours kept increasing and you tried your best to keep up.

what you didn’t notice was the sly smirk and the dark pair of brown eyes travelling towards your face, revelling at the sight in front of him.

he can get use to this

you were deep in your work before his alarm rang. thankfully, no one else was in the library since it was growing late into the evening. you looked up and meet his eyes again. wow, does he have really nice eyes.

“i need to go. i’ll make sure to send in the docs to you latest by tomorrow” he said before frantically packing up. you were dumbfounded. he’s probably late for something but you didn’t bother to ask since it is none of your business.

“it’s alright, this project isn’t due for another three days. you can take your time.” you replied softly, not wanting to stress him out.

“thank you y/n. i’ll see you soon.” he said in his deep tone that made your stomach do a flip. for some reason, you think your name sounds perfect coming from his lips.

since it is getting dark, you probably should leave the building before it gets too late.

you were in a state of boredom. your part of the project has already been done hours after you reached your apartment. to your surprise, the apartment was empty. maybe your roommate decide to stay the night at their boyfriend’s apartment. soon, the boredom slowly became unbearable so you decided to hit up the club for any sort of civilisation.

a seductive, red lip gloss dressed your lips as your fix the earrings dangling from your ears. the all black ensemble you were wearing definitely gave you a sense of high charisma and made you ooze confidence, perfect for a night out and warding off weird men. the heels you were wearing added an extra two inch to your strut. even though it’s probably going to be hell for you to walk in, you sure do look really good.

you took a cab to your favourite underground club, ready to take on the night.

the flashing led lights grabbed your attention as soon as you stepped into the dark nightclub. the atmosphere of drunk people in their early or mid 20’s dancing and having fun is never foreign to you. the bass boosted underground rap song pierce through your eardrums and made you heart thump along with every bass kick. you felt a surge of energy flowing through your veins so you wastes no time and walked towards the bar, before ordering your drink of choice for the night, completely ready to get wasted.

you are now on your fourth shot of vodka and dancing your way in the middle of the club. you’re a pretty sensible person off alcohol but when a substance is coursing through your blood, you tend to get a little too wild. the light changed and another song arrived through the speakers. you decided to leave the dance floor and return back to the bar to get another shot of whatever the hell you wishes

now i’m on my way to whatever’s waitin'

뭐가됐든 go straight (go straight)

fuck what they’d be talkin' 'bout

(fuck they talkin' 'bout)

their opinion doesn’t count like ooh

a loud scream can be heard on the dance floor, everyone began to vibe to the new heavy hitting bass playing through the very big speaker. a younger looking boy with bleached blonde hair appear with three other men on the stage

로또 터뜨린지도 어느덧

두달이 됐지 (yup)

나름 높아져, 벌농 인지도

man, 그 누가 알았겠니 (you get me?)

불가능해 보이던 모든건

수영이나 갔다오라해

wait, enough with vernon

원우형 here’s the torch

이제 가서 소각해요 man

even in your drunk state you couldn’t miss the rhythm of his name on stage since you have been thinking about him ever since the project was assigned. the craved, intricately carved, glass of bourbon wrapped safely around your fingers before you began sipping on it slowly. the sight you see next was nothing that you could’ve ever expected.

the red spotlight shined through the familiar figure, though he’s dressed so differently from when you saw him last.

uh 주위에선 그��� 가능성 로또래

내가 노력만 한다면

대박 쯤은 그냥 터트릴거래

별의 별 놈들은 나에게 한마디씩 던지지

내가 볼 땐 넌 백날 해도 안돼

난 답하지 난 아직 어린이

발전 가능성이 높은 나에 비해 전혀 없어 넌

옛말에 똥은 더러워 피해

째려도 전혀 안 무서워

비교하면 난 박잘타는 흥부 너도 따라해도

넌 박치에 가깝지 내가 볼땐 니행동을보면 전혀 노력 금물 uh

너는 옥타곤 지옥에서 기어

난 바쁘니까 엄마가 보면 놀래 가사노동

할땐 주부들만치니까

나도 놀랬지 가끔 너 보면 빡치니까

넌 을이 없게도 그리해놓고 어디서 여기서 갑질이야

the familiar deep and heart rumbling tone of his voice pierced through the speakers and into your auditory senses. you focused your eyes towards the stage and there you see him, the man of the hour, hyping the crowd up like it’s nobody’s business but his. what surprises you his outlook, he appears more confident, more fierce, more arrogant and a bad news to literally anyone regardless of gender and preferences. he ditched the usually

thin-rimmed glasses and left the piercing cold and sharp eyes out on display. a black tight fitting tank top fit snug against his broad shoulder and chest. the purple, satin outerwear that’s slowly falling of his shoulders reveal biceps that could be envied by a lot of people and the huge written tattoos splayed on his neck and collarbones are the most unexpected part of him.

the smart and witty lyrics flows out of his lips perfectly against the rhythm of the overdriven instrumental. his motions in sync with the beat of the music made it seems like he has been doing this since forever, he wasn’t foreign to anything. that is not the jeon wonwoo you knew. the jeon wonwoo you knew was a quiet, smart and dismissive, not the one that oozes confidence and charisma like it is a switch to be turned on and off. you could not believe your sight. your heart thumped loudly against your chest with the music. the drink in your hand is slowly disappearing from the cup and into your mouth. you turned towards the bartender and asked for a refill, the torch has been passed from wonwoo to another member of his underground rap team and all you want to do is accept this as a dream and resume your night.

the song finally ended and the crowd went batshit crazy. you were still leaning against the bar looking at the stage still reeling in at the fact that the person with the rap team is your fucking history project partner.

wonwoo shared handshakes with his member before making his way towards the bar, ready to end the night with some good ol’ alcohol before another day began tomorrow. to his surprise. he saw a familiar figure leaning against the bar, drink in hand and cheeks flushed red. oops, his cheeky little secret have been exposed by none other than the person he has taken admiration to. the surge of confidence he got really made him a completely different person.

you mentally prepare yourself as you saw him walking straight towards you. you fixed your posture to appear taller and more confident even though you’re still inches shorter than his six foot height. you almost curse at the sight of him with that smirk playing on his lips. he walked past you and motioned for the bartender.

“i’ll have what she’s having.” he pointed at you, eyes lingered towards your figure for a couple seconds which made you almost cower at the sheer intenseness of the stare.

“so what brings you here. i didn’t realise this is your type of gig.” the question hung from his lips

once his drink is safe in his grip, you muster up the courage to finally speak to the new personality you just discovered.

“i think that question is way more suited towards you no?” you replied, a hint of mischievousness apparent in your tone.

the bronze liquid flowed from the cup and down his throat.

“oh darling, you may find me full of surprises.”

a/n : the edit was made by v follow her @/lovetagon

[maknaesdancersrappers]

Devoted 2.

part 7

Overall warning/s: kinkier smut (eg. voyeurism, exhibitionism, etc.) character death, dark themes

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of self-harm & suicide

Just how devoted is Jaehyun to you?

prev: part 6

wc: 10.6k

You feel nervous. You don't know why, but you’re nervous for today. Jaehyun was in the shower while you applied your daily makeup on, smearing your favorite cream blush on your face and dabbing your third and fourth fingers furiously over your cheeks to blend it.

He’s taking you to his therapist for the first time. You don’t know how it’s going to play out; if you were just going to watch and listen to or actually be apart of it. Either way, it’s putting you over the edge.

The shower stops by the time you’re choosing a lipstick to wear, fingers gliding through your growing lipstick collection. Jaehyun emerges from the shower, stopping by the sink where you stood as you did your makeup. He was drying his hair and you can’t help but watch; how the droplets of water cascaded down his body, passing through the fading marks you left last night, and dampening the towel around his waist.

“Perv.” His remark snaps you out of your reverie, bringing your eyes back to his little smirk. “We can’t be late, [Y/N].”

“I’m just admiring my work.” You coo, shrugging your shoulders to feign nonchalance as you wipe the excess colored product off your fingers with a makeup wipe. “Besides, I just need lipstick and shoes, and I’ll be ready to go. You’re the one that’s still undressed.”

“Alright;” He rolls his eyes, “By the way, I have something for you in the closet. You could wear it today.”

Your brows furrow ever so slightly, “Something for me? What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing. I just felt like getting you something.” He walks over to kiss your hair, “Come to the closet after you put on…”

Jaehyun scans through the rows of lipsticks in the drawer and plucks one of your personal favorites, your Chanel Rouge Allure Velvet in the shade no. 38 La Fascinante. “This. My little gift would go with that.”

It was a little more bold than you were planning to wear, but you still take the lipstick from him and press down to release the cap, “Okay, if you say so.”

He kisses you one last time before stepping away to leave the bathroom, stopping when you loudly scoffed.

“Oh, and I’m the perv?” You gesture to his crotch; the tip of his half-hard cock peeking through the slit of the towel.

“Ignore it. I just saw how your ass looks in your skirt, that’s all.”

You laugh, “But it’s so cute like that! Peeking through like - oh, hey, where’d the little guy go?”

Jaehyun frowns at you, adjusting the towel around his waist, “No man likes it when their cock gets called cute, [Y/N]. I certainly don’t.”

“But it is.” You pout, bursting out into laughter when he merely scowls at you before finally taking his leave.

Looking back at your reflection, you lean forward and swipe the lipstick across your lips. You liked these kinds of blue red shades because it makes your teeth look a little whiter. After setting your makeup, you walked out of the bathroom to follow Jaehyun into the closet in the other room.

He was zipping his pants up when you entered, the top buttons of his dress shirt still open to give you a nice view of his chest. You approached him as he slips his belt through the loops of his tailored-to-fit pants and buttoned up his shirt for him.

“Have you ever thought about using a belt on me?” You meekly asked, batting your lashes at him.

“No.” He immediately answers, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You finished buttoning his shirt up to his collar, pressing your palms over the crisp, white material to get the wrinkles out. “But you’ll be hurting me for pleasure.” 

“Is this your way of complaining about how vanilla our sex life is? We literally filmed a sex tape yesterday.”

You throw your head back as you snickered, “No, I’m merely suggesting. If you don’t personally like it, then don’t do it.”

He crams his hands into his pockets, watching you tug open the drawer where he stores his neatly rolled ties and peruse through the selection. You pick out a nice blood red tie with gold stitching and returned in front of him to throw it over his neck. There was something about you picking out his necktie and tying it for him that was so intimate; perhaps it was how you took great care as you made sure the knot was precise or how he quietly observed you with loving patience - despite him saying moments ago that you can’t be late for the appointment.

Once you are satisfied with your handiwork, stepping back a little to admire the knotted tie around his neck; he lifts your chin up with a finger and kisses you softly, careful not to smudge your lipstick, “Thank you.”

You stifle a giggle, rubbing your thumb on his lower lip that got stained by your lipstick.

Jaehyun moves away from you, bending down to grab a white box from the small shoe rack where you kept your shoes for special occasions. He hands it to you with a sheepish smile, watching your eyes widen when you read the label.

“Manolo Blahnik?” You stuttered out in surprise, “You got me Manolo Blahnik’s?”

He doesn’t say anything, motioning you to sit on the velvet ottoman by the shoe rack.

You sat down and opened the classic ivory box, putting the lid aside as you peel back the paper inside. Taking one of the classic dust bags, you took the shoe out of it and gasped. It was black suede pump with red mesh details - now you understood why Jaehyun picked out the color of the lipstick. It was about four inches tall, an inch higher than what you’re used to wearing when you’re at work.

“It’s beautiful, Jaehyun.” You sigh, running your thumb over the material. He kneels in front of you, taking the shoe from your hands and slipping it onto your foot, doing the same with the other one after he unwraps it.

He stands, helping you up as well. “How does it fit?”

“Perfectly.” You shifted your weight over each foot a couple of times before looking up at him, “Thank you, but why?”

“Do I need a reason to spoil you?” He kisses your forehead, “I saw it and thought it would look nice on you.”

He pulls you to face the mirror and stands behind you with his hands perched on your shoulders. Looking at his reflection was easier now, although your instinct was to look away at first. “You look powerful.”

You look at yourself, nitpicking the basic style of your black and white ensemble: your white Annie button up from Blanc & Eclare that Sooyeon gifted to you tucked into your black pencil skirt with leather detailing around your waist to help cinch up the area. With one corner of your lip quirking up, you joke, “As your future wife?”

Truth be told, you still liked to browse through any new reports about you and Jaehyun; even if they came from almost unknown journalists online. It was purely out of boredom; but you stumbled upon a reddit thread - of all things - discussing your relationship. They called you names you’ve already learned to ignore, but they also questioned if you were even fit to be Jaehyun’s wife - even if you weren’t a gold digger, how could you help in managing the Jung’s business? You were a mere freelance designer from a middle-class family.

“As the future chief executive officer of your own company, love.” He chuckles in your ear, “You’ll be strutting down the halls of your own office building with these heels clicking against the floor; overseeing every project, and most of all, empowering women like you to show you can - and will - in fact, compete with men in the industry.”

“That sounds like a lot of work.” You nervously chuckle, twiddling your thumbs against the hem of your sleeves.

“I’ll be with you every step of the way.” He whispers, embracing your figure in his arms. With one last kiss on your neck, he ushers you out of the room, “Come on, let’s get going.”

Jaehyun drove to his office building first, explaining that Dr. Jeon’s office is a couple of blocks away and he liked to walk through the park to and from it. They park his car and rode the elevator to the ground floor where they started their little trek out of the building and across the city park. His hand is wrapped tightly yours, playfully swinging it along with each step you took.

“Excuse me.” You giggle at him, “How old are you?”

He merely laughs, leaning down to kiss your cheek before he lets go of your hand to pull you closer and keep his arm around your shoulders. “We don’t go out on daytime dates anymore. Let me savor the moment.”

You loop your arm around his waist and grinned up at him, “Are you going to spin me around, too?”

Jaehyun doesn’t hesitate to do so, making you laugh and bringing a brighter blush to your cheeks than what you had applied over your foundation. You playfully swatted him and he responds by grabbing your hand as he chuckles at you, lacing his fingers with yours once more.

It felt like you two were back in college, walking through the quad while he brought you to your class. It’s late in the morning, but the harsh rays of the noon sun has yet to scorch the pavement. It’s nice and cool, the winds rolling the clouds through the sky. You can’t pinpoint the exact moment you knew you loved Jaehyun, but moments like those - like these - fortified your feelings for him.

Will it change in the next hour?

They arrive at a low-rise condominium; greeted by the doorman with familiarity as they pass through the revolving doors. Jaehyun brings her to the receptionist and she smiles fondly, fine smile lines and wrinkles gracing her face as she nods at him. She grins at you, too, eyes turning into little crescents as she bids both of you a good day after Jaehyun signs a logbook. He ushers you to the elevators and you start to notice he’s not smiling anymore; he looked nervous, probably more anxious than you. You could feel the slightest tremble in his fingers as he tried to hold your hand with a firm grasp.

At the fourth floor, you both alighted the lift and are warmly welcomed by another receptionist.

“Good morning, Mr. Jung.” She beamed at them, standing up to bow. “Dr. Jeon is still wrapping up with a patient, but you may step inside your room. Would you like anything to drink?”

“Warm chamomile tea,” He clears his throat. He places a hand on the small of your back and you look up at him as he asks, “Would you like anything, babe?”

“Just water. Thank you.” You tell the receptionist and you see her eyes light up as your gazes meet.

“Oh!” She lightly exclaims, putting a hand on her chest, “You must be his wife!”

You giggle, “Not yet. Almost, though.”

Jaehyun spares the two of you a little smile before his lips press back down to a straight line, “Do you wanna go inside or do you wanna look around?”

You tell him you’d rather wait inside and get comfortable already; mostly for him since you could see him clenching his fist in his pocket. 

Dr. Jeon’s therapy room looked like an average living room; there’s a beige velvet chaise lounge and an armchair in a darker tawny color across it, a low glass coffee table with an hourglass separated them while a tall, sleek side table was situated beside the armchair. One wall was stacked with books of different variety and genre - psychology books, fiction, non-fiction, and even a few activity books, there were also minimal decor like little vases and succulents. The wall opposite to it had framed quotes like, “breathe in. breathe out.” and “it’s alright.” with abstract paintings in soft hues. A file cabinet was tucked in the corner and right on top was a small altar: a miniature statue of the cross, a used candle, and a pocket bible.

You sit at the chaise lounge and peek at Jaehyun, letting out a sigh when you see his face, “Jaehyun, you being nervous is making me nervous.”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, “I just know it won’t be the same when the hour is over.”

It breaks your heart more than it scares you that he thinks it’ll be that way. You squeeze his knee to stop it from bouncing.

There’s a knock on the door before it opens. A slender man walks in, wearing khakis and a plaid shirt, and smiles brightly at both of you. “Ah, so this is the infamous [Y/N]! A pleasure to finally meet you; Jaehyun talks about you all the time.”

You stood up to shake his hand and peer at Jaehyun briefly, “Hopefully all good things?”

“He’s never said anything less of good. I almost thought you weren’t real with how he talks about you.” He lets out a hearty chortle as he sits down on the armchair and taps his finger on the clipboard he brought in. “So, shall we begin?”

You look at Jaehyun and he nods at him, easing back on his seat.

He leans forward to flip the hourglass, “How have you two been? Getting any wedding planning done?”

“We did, yesterday, in fact.” Jaehyun answers, “Not much, but we were able to pick a theme and palette, a few places for the ceremony and reception.”

Dr. Jeon nods his head at him. He turns to you, “You must be excited, [Y/N]. I know Jaehyun is.”

You feel your cheeks warm up, turning to Jaehyun with a shy smile, “I am. Very much.”

“Of all the things Jaehyun has told me, Ms. [Y/N], the one that stuck the most was when he told you he - in his words - is not okay.” The doctor’s eyes moved from the two of you in a blink. “Do you remember how you initially reacted to those words?”

You didn’t think he’d ask straight away; your mouth opens, but you shut it immediately. You want to be clear and precise with your words. “I didn’t understand at first, until he explained a little more about how he’s been dealing with a mental disorder.”

“Have you talked about it in detail?”

“No.” Jaehyun speaks up, shifting his seat. “I wouldn’t know how to start.”

“That’s okay, Jaehyun.” Dr. Jeon assures him before returning his attention to you, “I’ll get into it in awhile, but first, I’d like to know something, Ms. [Y/N]. The break from your relationship a few years back was my suggestion. It was meant to challenge both your loyalties to one another, to see if the relationship is more emotional than physical. Couples usually take breaks after a big fight, but from what Jaehyun tells me, you don’t get into much arguments. Jaehyun, at the time, was dealing with a tremendous amount of stress from graduating and pressure from his family as he is taking over a multi-billion business, and his concern was that it’ll affect you; hence the break. However, as we all know, it didn’t work out the way any of us hoped.”

Memories of that night still gave you shivers when you remembered them. Your lip is pulled in between your teeth without your knowledge as you nod your head to tell him to continue.

“It might be difficult for you, Ms. [Y/N], but I’d like to ask what you were thinking of from when Jaehyun revealed his actions, to his reaction when you asked for an extension for the break, until the night ended.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. As your mind recalls the events of that one night, you refused to look at Jaehyun even though you knew he was staring at you; gaze piercing as you try to collect your thoughts.

“I couldn’t believe it. I refused to believe it, but he admitted it so easily. When I realized the weight of his actions in total was, my body just went into fight or flight mode - and I wanted to run away.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.”

“Because he stopped you or you had second thoughts?”

You don’t answer immediately, staring at the falling sand encased in glass. “Both. He wouldn’t let me go, but when he did… I couldn’t just leave him.”

“Why not?”

“H-he was hurting himself. I was scared he’d do something worse if I had left.”

Dr. Jeon nods, “Well, you’re right. Jaehyun, if Ms. [Y/N] had left that night, what would you have done?”

Without missing a beat, he responds in a monotonous tone, “I would have picked up a shard from that broken mirror and slit my wrists.”

You gasped, snapping your head towards him as your hands fly over to cover your gaping mouth. He doesn’t look at you, just continuing to stare off at the corner of the room where the little altar was. You could feel your eyes burning as tears threatened to spring from them; you can’t imagine what you would have done if Jaehyun had gone through with that idea.

“Ms. [Y/N],” Dr. Jeon calls your attention back to him, “So you stayed to stop him, and you even took care of his injuries. You could have still left him afterwards; filed a restraining order and move on. Why didn’t you?”

You hate to admit it, but you’ve thought about that whenever that memory haunts you during nightmares. “Jaehyun… Jaehyun likes to call himself a monster; I’ve only seen that monster once and it was that night. But even then, I still managed to see the same person I fell in love with. He refused to hurt me; pushed me away to move his anger elsewhere and made sure I wasn’t in the way. I don’t think… no, I know he won’t ever hurt me.”

“And that was enough to convince you to stay?”

“Enough to convince me to stay forever.”

Jaehyun finally looks at you, eyes softened and misty; he had the same look when you told him you’d be his girlfriend, the same look when you’d be his future wife. As cheesy as it is, it’s the look that tells you how much he loves you.

“But,” Your small interjection causes his expression to falter for a brief second, “I’d still like to know what’s wrong. I want to help, too.”

Dr. Jeon watches Jaehyun, waiting for the slightest movement to signal him before he clears his throat, “Jaehyun is diagnosed with something called Borderline Personality Disorder, BPD for short. It’s a continuous pattern of varying moods, behaviors, and self-image. People with BPD can go through very intense episodes of emotions, such as anger, anxiety, and depression that can last from hours to days.”

He pauses to let you process the information, seeing your brows furrow ever so slightly.

“Symptoms of BPD,” He continues, “are fear of abandonment; even separating for, let’s say, to go to class or work, can trigger this. People with BPD will do anything to prevent this from happening; they’ll be clingy, they will beg, and even track their loved one’s movements.”

You don’t say anything, even though you feel like you should. But still, you don’t comment on it and nod at him.

“People with BPD tend to have unstable relationships; they either seem perfect or horrible - never a middle ground. They could view lovers, and even friends and family with immense love to complete hatred in a snap. Another aspect that is unstable for those diagnosed with BPD is their self-image. They could see themselves as good people, but then hate themselves to the extent of believing they’re evil. They probably don’t have an idea of what they want in life so they can frequently change jobs, lovers, even values and sexual identity.”

This makes you peep at Jaehyun, who catches your eyes and shakes his head, “I’m very much straight, [Y/N].”

“I won’t judge you if you weren’t.” You shrugged, returning your attention to Dr. Jeon.

He holds back his amusement to carry on with the session, “BPD may cause them to engage in harmful, sensation-seeking behaviours, especially when upset. Impulsive purchases, reckless driving, unsafe sex, substance abuse - these help them feel better in the moment although harmful in the long-run.”

Suddenly, the shoes on your feet didn’t feel right - and probably the majority of your closet. You can’t distinguish if he had bought them out of the goodness of his heart or the sickness of his mind. Every time he gave you  a gift that wasn’t a holiday, he would always tell you that he felt like it or he saw the item and thought you would like it. 

“One of the most common symptoms is suicidal behavior; so they think about it, they make threats and gestures about doing it, or actually going through with it. It’s also common for them to self-harm.” Dr. Jeon sees you slightly recoil and quickly changes topic, “As I’ve mentioned, they are unstable - especially with their emotions. These mood swings are intense and extreme, but pass quickly, lasting just a few minutes or hours. They also get chronic feelings of emptiness; they talk about feel like they’re nothing or nobody so they fill this void with things like food, sex, and drugs - yet nothing satisfies them.”

You don’t feel good - not because of what you’re learning, but because you feel useless. You didn’t know the man you loved was dealing with all these and regardless of whether or not he still is, you would have preferred to know so you can be aware and help him when he needs it. He’s done nothing but care for you when you needed him, and you feel like you’ve done nothing for him.

“People with BPD may have short tempers; they have trouble controlling their anger and it can completely consume them. But it’s usually directed at themselves more than on other people.” Dr. Jeon pauses, “Last of the common symptoms would be that those diagnosed with BPD often struggle with paranoia and are suspicious about other people’s motives. They can become dissociated; this means they lose touch with reality, so they would space out or feel like they’re outside of their own body.”

“I always thought it was anxiety and depression.” You confessed, “I didn’t think it was this… grave.”

“BPD usually have co-occurring disorders, like the ones you’ve mentioned.” Dr. Jeon looks down at his clipboard, “Jaehyun was initially diagnosed with both before BPD.”

He stops, urging Jaehyun to explain himself. 

“It started in high school,” You move your body so it faced him, “My family had started implanting into my brain that I needed to be the best, that I had to be the best. I was an heir to the family business; one of the most profitable ones, at the time, they didn’t want the casino to fall into someone out of the family so they depended on me. I was 15, in the middle of hitting puberty. I was allowed to play, party, and all that; but I had to care for my image, my grades, and relations. I studied in a private all boy’s school; the majority of the students were chaebols or sons of politicians. I was forced to make friends with boys from families that could benefit the conglomerate.”

“Did you get along with them, at least?” You meekly asked, trying to lighten the mood, but Jaehyun responds in the same dreary tone.

“I don’t talk about them, do I?”

He had a point and now that he mentioned it, you realize he’s never talked about his high school life at all with you.

“They’re bad people. I’m pretty sure some of them are in jail. They were greedy and prideful, they did nothing but be bad influences - I learned to drink and do drugs because of them. I was just obeying my family in befriending them, but when shit hit the fan, I was scolded for doing so.” Jaehyun scowls, “It got so bad that I had to take medication and I hated them. I was always drowsy, I couldn’t concentrate, I confused, and I couldn’t sleep. It felt like a nightmare and I always found myself debating to end it all by slitting my wrists or jumping off the roof.”

You reach out to grab his hand for the selfish reason to find an emotional anchor at the thought of him committing suicide rather than comforting him, so you bring his palm to your knee and he gives you a light squeeze.

“And the BPD? How did that start?”

He looks at you and then at Dr. Jeon, making you follow.

“There still isn’t a clear cause behind BPD, but research suggests it is caused by a combination of inherited or internal biological factors and external environmental factors, like a traumatic event in their childhood.”

“Inherited…?” You repeat.

Dr. Jeon avoids your gaze by looking down at his clipboard, so you return your attention to Jaehyun.

“My father also has BPD.” He slowly admits, as if he was reluctant about it. “He and mom always fought before… have you ever wondered why my mom stayed as a housewife after I was old enough to be alone at home?”

“Y-your father forced her?” You found this hard to believe. They were always so loving when you saw them; they were… perfect for each other. “To be a housewife… like what you’re doing…”

“I know.” He quickly jumps in, shutting his eyes in frustration, “I always told myself I won’t be like my dad as a husband, but the idea slips from my mouth every time and it keeps upsetting you.”

“Which makes you upset.” You point out, dropping your shoulders in defeat. This whole time… the entire relationship, you’ve already witnessed all the symptoms of BPD and you always dismissed them as him being irrational. You wish you knew from the start; you wouldn’t have picked fights with him and keep doing things that were triggering him. “Wait, then the chances of our kids inheriting is-”

“I would say 50/50.” Dr. Jeon jumps in, trying to put your worries at ease by sounding confident in his estimation.

“Is this treatable?”

“Yes, but not with medicine. For Jaehyun, this is what we call dialectical behavior therapy; a type of cognitive behavioral therapy that tries to identify and change negative thinking and pushes for positive behavioral changes. It teaches patients skills to cope with, and change unhealthy behavior. If your children do get diagnosed with it, Jaehyun had already scheduled for early treatment.” Dr. Jeon explains with a serious expression before it softens to a small, proud smile, “Actually, Jaehyun has improved enough that he didn’t have to go to DBT anymore. He only comes in for check ups every other month when he has time until recently.”

“Oh… then that’s good, right? You only came back because I told you to.”

“From his recent sessions, I personally don’t think he would have to go through comprehensive DBT anymore. I will still recommend doing some mindfulness activities; diary writing, meditating, and the likes. You could join him in some - you are the reason why he’s gotten better.”

This brings a blush to your cheeks, “What?”

“Even though you are the trigger that pushed the limits of his disorder, you’re also the anchor that kept him grounded, reminded him to become better, and I’m happy to tell you that he is.”

Jaehyun shifts his hand so he could laced his fingers between yours, gripping it with ample strength.

“Bringing you into one of his therapy sessions is a great start for him to completely open up to you. In any relationship, communication is key. You can start doing mindfulness activities together. Taking about 10 minutes each day to talk, create a ‘relationship vision’ by listing down statements that you would like to see individually in the relationship going forward now that you’re aware of his disorder. Develop and practice caring behaviors - although Jaehyun has mentioned you’re both doing this already - so surprising each other with gifts, holding hands,” Dr. Jeon gestures to their interlocked fingers, “even simply telling each other you love each other is enough. I suggest that everyday or every other day, you would affirm your appreciation for each other. Pick out a moment in that day or week that moved you and tell each other, tell them how important that is to you, and describe how that action made you feel, and in return, you summarize what they had told you so it would be clear to both of you about what you had shared.”

To punctuate his statement, the hourglass had finished and as if on cue, his wristwatch beeps to signal a new hour. He stands up, “Well, I have a very booked day today. The room won’t be used until the next hour, you may stay here and start on some mindfulness activities.”

Jaehyun stands up and you follow, “Thank you, Dr. Jeon.”

They shake hands and you stick yours out, “Thank you.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. [Y/N]. I’m finally able to put a face to Jaehyun’s stories. You’re free to join us again if you’d like.”

“Oh, I’ll keep that in mind.”

He leaves the room shortly after he confirms another session between him and Jaehyun on Wednesday. It was quiet after, neither of you talking and just stood with your hands still in each other’s. Jaehyun takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly before he turns to you.

“Do you still want to be with me?”

It breaks your heart that he’s so sure you’ll be seeing him as the monster he makes himself to be. Now that you knew, were you scared? Not in the sense he thinks. You weren’t scared of him, but you were scared to lose him in the worst way possible. “Is this your way of trying to drive me away from you? Do you want me to hate you?”

He frowns, “No… that’s not my intention. I just want to give you an option.”

You take his hand into both your hands and hold it to your chest, “Will you believe me if I told you I love you even more? Not because of your situation, but because you finally told me? Jae, I wish you had told me sooner.”

“It’s not exactly a great pick up line.” He quips, one corner of his lips quirking upwards. “I doubt it would leave a great first impression… and  it’s not exactly the easiest thing to talk about either.”

“Will you talk about it more with me now?”

“Yes. If you want to, then I will.”

You tried to tiptoe in your heels to kiss him, using his shoulders as leverage, “Thank you for this, Jaehyun. It means a lot that you finally told me about this part of you. Do you have anymore skeletons in the closet you’d like to reveal?”

Jaehyun chuckles, “No.”

“Okay then,” You pulled him down for a long hug until he suggests it’s time to get back to work.

You leave the room, bidding the receptionist goodbye and start making your way to the elevator, but Jaehyun’s hand slips out of yours. Looking back in confusion, you find him watching the news on the television screen behind the receptionist’s desk. It was about a drug raid at a local club; how there were millions worth of illegal drugs stored in the basement and reports of bartenders spiking unsuspecting businessmen to overcharge their bill.

“Jaehyun?”

“That was the club we were at the other night.” He explains, eyes narrowing slightly, “I think Sicheng and I should really take a drug test just to confirm.”

“At least they were busted for it. Check your account, Jae, maybe they overcharged you.”

“No, I didn’t pay for anything that night.” His lips press into a hard line, “Yuta did.”

“Hey, we’re on business hours, [Y/N].” Kyungwon snaps her fingers in front of your face. “Stop staring off into space - and if you are, then don’t stare at that couch! It’s ugly.”

You blink yourself out of your reverie, recoiling at the said ugly couch your co-worker said. Your head was still stuck at the therapy session earlier in the morning. Even though you made it seem like you understood every word Dr. Jeon had said, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around it. It was too much for one sitting; you don’t know why you didn’t tell them. But Jaehyun promised to talk more about it, and you were banking on that.

“I would ask why you’re so dazed, but I don’t need to know details of your sex life.” Kyungwon grumbles, eyes darting around the living room decor displayed.

“I’m not thinking about that!” You gasped, defending yourself in a shrill voice. “I-I have another home to design, a wedding to plan, and a company to start - one that you’ll be a part of.”

She sighs, crossing her arms, “There’s no rush on any of those, [Y/N]. You don’t have to move to a new house yet, there’s still months before the wedding, and the girls and I still have plenty of projects to finish back at the company. We’re understaffed, but boss isn’t re-hiring or even hiring new people.”

“Hold on,” You grab her elbow before she wanders off to the lamps, “You told Jaehyun to have Junho and the others fired!”

Kyungwon cocks her head to the side, “No. I told him about how they behaved towards women in the office, he suggested about having them fired, and I said that would be great. I didn’t tell him to actually do it.”

“Okay, but you could have told me about it.”

“[Y/N], sweetie, if a rich, powerful man who had power to control who stays in a company he doesn’t even have legal jurisdiction over told me to keep it a secret from you, I would make sure you would never hear a peep about it.” She nervously laughs for a moment until it dies down and she quietly asks, “Did he finally tell you?”

You check the price tag of a floor lamp, “After I asked.”

She nods slowly, “Are you mad at me?”

Pensively, you look at her and shake your head, “I can’t be mad at either of you if there are plenty of people benefiting from it. I just wish you had told me.”

“Alright, I’m sorry. I promise I won’t hold any secrets from you anymore.” Kyungwon smacks her lips together and makes a loud pop, “So I have another confession to make. I promised my cousin we’d hire him as a secretary. Trust me, he’s an efficient worker and a total sweetheart.”

“Alright. If you trust him, then I’ll trust you.” 

You two continued to browse, tagging things you assumed Yuta would like for his apartment. The only thing he specified he wanted was a sunken living room, a platform bed, and touches of yellow. He was running late, not really giving both of you a reason why - and it’s not like you questioned him either. He was still a businessman after all.

Kyungwon was asking your opinion between two shelf options when you spot Yuta over her shoulder, looking around.

“Yuta!” You raise your hand to catch his attention and he immediately looks over with a grateful smile.

“I’m sorry. I had a conference call with my family in Japan regarding business here. It took longer than expected.” He explained once he reached both of you. “Did you two wait too long?”

“Not at all!” Kyungwon chirps and you agree with her, “We’re interior designers; we could spend days in places like IKEA. We’ve been tagging a couple of things for you to check out; to see if it fits your tastes or not.”

You and Kyungwon walked him through the route you took earlier, showing him the pieces you had tagged and he nitpicked what he liked or disliked about them. He seems to have his own vision of how his apartment should look like.

“Would it be possible to install like a built-in kotatsu in the sunken living room?” He ponders out loud before turning to Kyungwon, “It could slide out from the level where the steps begin and I could just throw a futon over it.”

“Oh, I think I can make that work. I’ll work on some designs later and send it to you afterwards.” She types it onto her phone, “Is there anything more specific you’d like? The tatami mats you requested have been shipped but will be at the company warehouse until the living room has been leveled.”

The three of you have wandered over to the bedroom area and Yuta approaches a platform bed, “The platform bed is king-sized, yes?”

“Custom-made for you.” You confirmed, “It’ll be ready in two weeks. They’re delivering the swatches tomorrow and if you’re not busy, you can drop by the office to select which you prefer.”

“Whatever screams bachelor.” He jokes, eliciting a chuckle from both you and Kyungwon.

“Kyungwon has more experience with bachelor pads.” You volleyed the attention to her and she lightheartedly shrugs her shoulders.

“I usually end up with darker colors, maybe shades of gray, perhaps? Oh! A nice gray wash veneer on the headboard and darker shade for the velvet upholstery. It’ll be nice and neutral with the yellow accents.”

“Okay then, I trust you.”

Kyungwon shyly bows her head with a small mutter of gratitude, bringing a kilowatt smile on Yuta’s face. She gestures to move over to the wardrobe and storage area to choose furniture that weren’t custom-made for him. As she leads the way, talking animatedly about the endless possibilities his closet space could look like while Yuta patiently listens with an unwavering smile on his lips and tucked hands in his pockets, you paced behind them with curiosity.

You don’t want to play matchmaker, especially since he’s your and Kyungwon’s client, but a part of you can see them being together. They’re both cheeky and flirty at the right times; when you introduced them to each other when you suggested he should hire an extra designer, they hit right off the bat during the icebreaker. They could talk endlessly about anything and be equally enthusiastic about it.

“Please, let me treat both of you for dinner - if not as a your employer, than as a friend. You two are incredibly patient with me.” Yuta offers once you’ve placed orders for the items he approved of and requested them to be delivered to the company warehouse for safe-keeping.

Kyungwon seemed eager, convincing you with her infamous puppy dog pout, and you finally relented. Yuta gives her the address of the restaurant and you ride with her in her Kia Picanto while Yuta drives off first in his Audi A4.

The minute Kyungwon starts driving, you glance at her, “So… Yuta.”

“Hm?”

“Are you interested in him?”

She blushes, “He’s so out of my league, [Y/N]. What would a millionaire want with a simple designer like me? He could literally have a harem of women with a single flash of his smile. Why settle for less when he could have more?”

You stare at her for a moment before following her attention on the road, “That’s how I feel about Jaehyun.”

Kyungwon scoffs, “You’ve been together for years and in a few months, you’re getting married! What are you talking about? I’ve never seen a man more in love than Jaehyun is with you.”

Your mind goes back to the therapy session and you frown at yourself; it wasn’t only Jaehyun who had fears of losing each other.

“But all that could change, you know. Maybe one day someone better will come into his life or maybe the love would just die. When we first started dating, you don’t even know how many girls tried to steal him away from me. Imagine this outgoing handsome boy, charming and incredibly sweet; and then this awkward, introverted art student. I didn’t think we’d last this long.”

“I don’t even think I’m ready to be in a relationship; I have the shittiest luck with men.”

“Then sleep with him!” You exclaim with laughter, “Kyungwon, when was the last time you slept with someone?”

She recoils in her seat with disappoint, “Too long… wait a minute, are you really telling me to sleep with a client? I know you’re out of the company, but I’m not, [Y/N].”

“No one will know. I’m not going to rat you out and I doubt Yuta would boast about it either; we’re the only contact he has with the company. You’re designing his bachelor pad, Kyung, you might as well help break it in for him.”

“[Y/N]!” She scolds, but laughter cuts it short and she shakes her head in disbelief. “If he’s interested, then I’ll entertain it, okay?”

You arrive at a hotel where a valet informed you that Yuta had requested for Kyungwon’s car to be taken care of. Once that was settled, the two of you walk up to a Japanese fusion restaurant by the hotel lobby where Yuta was standing outside waiting for you.

“Is this where you’ve been staying?” You ask, looking up at the hotel as Yuta guides you inside the restaurant.

“It is. When my father was here last week, he liked it so much that he bought it.”

You and Kyungwon stopped in your tracks, staring at him as he walks over to an empty table and then sharing a surprised expression with one another.

“If I liked the hotel service so much, I’d give at least 50 dollar tip in my room during check-out.” Kyungwon whispers to you and you hold back laughter, urging her to follow after him.

Yuta helps Kyungwon to her seat while a waiter seats you, gently pushing the chair into the table as you sat down. As you settled in, the waiter leaves a menu each in front of you before bowing and leaving.

You weren’t too hungry so you hoped it was okay if you asked for something light.

“There’s a high tea menu, would you ladies mind that?” Yuta looks at the two of you, “Their sencha is quite nice.”

“Sounds good.” You close the menu and Kyungwon agrees with a nod of her head.

“You’re still free to choose something else.”

After giving it a thought, neither of you ordered anything else and settled on his suggestion. He makes the order and when the waiter leaves, he talks business for a bit.

“Is there a 3D render for the apartment, yet? I honestly have a hard time visualizing it.”

“I can render one for you, I’ll just wait for Kyungwon’s plans for the built-in kotatsu and figure out what you would like for the bathroom.”

Yuta perks up a bit, “Oh! In Japan, we have these soaking tubs called ofuro. If it’s not too big, I’d like one in the bathroom.”

You open up your phone and type into your notes, “Alright, I’ll search up where to get one later. Is there anything else? How about the shower area?”

“I just want everything open. I’ll be living alone so I don’t mind if there’s no wall to my personal bathroom. My only problem with that would be the toilet.”

“Well, we can have an open bathroom for you but have an enclosed space for the toilet.” Kyungwon glances at you.

Your lips are pursed for a moment. “There’s this shower enclosure you might like. I was planning to get it for me and Jaehyun when we move. It’s nice and spacious, too.” You blush, thinking you shared too much because Yuta chuckles but urges you to continue, “And, I can use the designs I have planned for our ensuite for yours.”

“You don’t mind?”

You shake your head, “No, of course not. I think you have the same… tastes.... As Jaehyun so I think you’ll like it.”

Yuta’s grin is wide and knowing, sending a flush of color on both yours’ and Kyungwon’s cheeks. “Alright, then. Really, the only aspects I truly want are the sunken living room, built in kotatsu, and the ofuro — basically the Japanese aspects.”

“You must miss your family at home.” Kyungwon suggests, taking the table napkin and draping it across her lap.

“Oh, no, I don’t.” He laughs, shaking his head as if she had said something ridiculous. “I miss my house in Japan, yes, but I certainly don’t miss my family.”

Her eyes dart to yours, a little wide with panic in fear she had upset him for bringing it up.

“I’m sorry for assuming.” She clears her throat, keeping her gaze to the empty plate in front of her. “My apologies.”

Yuta laughs once more, “No, don’t be. It’s not something that bothers me. It was all my fault anyways.”

Two waiters come with your orders; they arrange the tea set and placed the high tray of pastries on the table. They asked Yuta if he needed anything else and Yuta shook his head and thanked them instead.

“I don’t mean to pry,” You paused to thank Kyungwon for pouring you tea, “But what do you mean it’s your fault.”

“It’s not a secret; if you look up my family name in Japanese articles, you would know everything about us.” Yuta gestures for you and Kyungwon to choose from the stack of pastries, “I was set to inherit the business, not my sister, because I’m the only son. However, I’m also known to be the black sheep of the family.”

He picks out a small cucumber sandwich and takes a bite out of it, “I didn’t have the most… respectable past. I was spoiled; I wanted to party, not study. I slept around, refused to be set up for arranged marriages. Eventually, my father grew tired of my nonsense and kicked me out. I was essentially disowned by my family about 5 years ago.”

“That’s when I discovered who my real friends were; those who I thought cared for me, only saw me for money and free shit. I’m lucky enough to be friends with a guy who convinced his father to let me wait tables at their family restaurant. They didn’t have an extra room, though, so I slept on the chairs of the restaurant after closing and rented a motel room nearby when I had enough. Employees had free meals, either ramen or tonkatsu, but it filled my stomach everyday. They treated me and all the other employees like family; they made me feel more at home than I ever was with my own family.”

Kyungwon refills his teacup when she noticed it was empty and he offered her a small smile. “But you’re working for your family again. What happened?”

Yuta’s face looked somber, “My friend’s mom had given birth. It was a baby girl and she had heart complications. Their business was barely enough to cover medical expenses. Unfortunately for them, their restaurant got caught in the middle of a gang war and almost half of the building needed to be repaired. I wasn’t mad or upset when they told me they couldn’t afford to have employees anymore; I didn’t even complain, but I couldn’t just walk away from them after all they’ve done for me.”

“So I got on my knees in front of my father and begged him to take me back; and I’m not gonna lie, it hurt my pride to do something like that. But he eventually did after my mother convinced him to. I don’t get to inherit the business — and that’s fine by me — but I worked hard and repaid my friend and his family for what they’ve done.”

He gestures around the room and you gasped, “This is theirs?”

“It’s a sister restaurant. I convinced them to branch their business out; the recipes belong to them, but I provided everything else. None of the profit goes to me, though.”

“That’s so kind of you.” Kyungwon mumbles, blushing when she realizes she had said it out loud. 

Yuta chuckles, shaking his head, “It was the least I could do for them. Paying for the repairs and the baby’s medical fees wasn’t going to be enough for me; I wanted to do something for them that was long term. Although, I felt a little sad when they said I didn’t have to pay for Mina’s medical fees anymore since they could afford it now.”

“Mina…?”

“Ah, yes.” Yuta glances at you, “My friend’s baby sister is named Mina. That would explain why I’m a little fond of the receptionist at Jaehyun’s office. Being the youngest, I’ve always wondered about and wanted a younger sibling — or at least a child of my own, but I think it’s too early for that.”

“Unless you find someone who would change your mind.” You teased him, bringing your cup to your lips. “And soon enough, you’ll be moving out of your bachelor pad.”

He seems to be contemplating on the idea, a half smile on his face as he shrugs one shoulder, “Well, at least I know who to call when I move again. But still, I’m not actively looking for a partner and even if I was, I wouldn’t jump right into it and get married. Did you think you or Jaehyun immediately thought of marrying each other when you first met in high school?”

You blinked at him in surprise, shaking your head with a little giggle, “Oh, Jaehyun and I met in college. Even then, I didn’t think we’d come this far.”

Yuta’s brows furrowed slightly, “I’m sorry, I thought you two had met in high school and dated in college.”

“No…” You slowly shook your head, “I met him in college.”

He seems genuinely confused and you’re about to ask him how he came up with that until he clicks his tongue, “Ah, I must have confused your relationship with someone else. Sorry. Most of my work partners are taken, you see.”

Kyungwon agrees, “Everyone is getting married around me and I’m starting to feel left behind.”

You reach out to put a hand on her arm and offer her a sympathetic smile, “There’s no need to rush, Kyung.”

“Yes,” Yuta nods, gesturing to himself, “There’s nothing wrong with being single and surrounded by couples. You can learn off of them, you know.”

They begin to tease you about your relationship with Jaehyun, pointing out mannerisms and cute whatnots the two of you had that you weren’t aware of. Kyungwon made a suggestion that highly implicated a healthy sex drive and you gasped, scolding her. Eventually, the topic moved onto Kyungwon’s life and an hour later, you and Kyungwon thanked Yuta for the tea and parted ways with him.

After she offered to drive you back home, you’re sat once more in the passenger’s seat of Kyungwon’s car and had been texting Jaehyun, asking what he wanted for dinner.

“I feel…” Kyungwon mumbles, “Sort of bad for Yuta.”

“Hm?” You glanced over to her and you see her shrug her shoulders halfheartedly.

“About what he told us in the restaurant. How he got disowned and all; like, you’d never imagine he went through that if you took one look at him.”

It surprised you as well when he revealed that fact about himself. He just seemed so lax and chill. “I guess it goes to show we really can’t judge a book by it’s cover.”

You’re reminded again of your morning; unsettled by everything you’ve learned about Jaehyun. It didn’t scare you per se, however it did give you inklings of guilt. You just wish you had known about what he had been dealing with so you could have helped him. 

It’s been more than a week since you and Jaehyun began to search for a house (read as: mansion) and none of them screamed ‘forever home’ at you. You think it’s because all of them are just too big with more than enough rooms and bathrooms and unnecessary facilities like home saunas or fully equipped gyms.

This was the seventh house you two were visiting and it was the smallest lot of the ten houses you’ve picked albeit still vast with a whopping 7 thousand square foot. Jaehyun had reminded you multiple times that you could have rooms renovated to whatever you wanted it to be, especially when he sees your reaction towards the property features.

You pull up to a gate with high hedges with crawling floral vines and before you could even ask about how they were getting inside, the gates open. As Jaehyun drives past, you notice a small guardhouse off to the side with a man bowing towards the car, guessing he worked as security for the property.

As this was the seventh house (again, read as: mansion), you weren’t even going to waste your time commenting about its size but you can’t help but be in awe at it as Jaehyun goes through the circular driveway. It’s exterior paint was a taupe, unlike the blinding white the previous houses were. There were a few rooms with floor to ceiling windows, something the brochure pointed out that gave reason to all the natural lighting.

There was an open garage for 5 cars on the left side of the house where Jaehyun drives straight to and parks. You both alight the vehicle, and you size up the mansion; trying to estimate the height of the entire building while Jaehyun locks the car.

“So?” He asks, coming around to your end and placed a hand on your lower back.

“Massive.” You purse your lips at him.

He sighs, “Baby, stop using synonyms of big.”

“After being 7 years with you,” You nod your head towards his crotch and wink up at him, “It’s a word I need to know a lot of synonyms of.”

“Let’s not bless a house we’re not even sure about buying yet, [Y/N].” He pinches your butt, making you gasp and elbow him in the gut. He coughs, but laughs it off; taking your hand in his, “Let’s check this place out.”

There’s a nice spacious porch with hanging exterior lamps at either corner by the short steps. The house opens up to the right of the porch where a short hallway leads into the living space to the left and a small bathroom to the right.

As you imagined the possible changes you would make to the house, Jaehyun continues to guide you along inside.

There’s a utility room at the end of the hallway; still a sizeable room for laundry and storage. Beside it was a wide, L-shaped staircase with glass panels and dark zinc steps. Further along, the living space was massive; it opened up to the second floor with a crystal chandelier in the middle of it. The entire wall was glass that opened up to the backyard with double glass sliding doors. The sunken living room had two marble levels before the actual carpeted space with two couches: an L-shaped couch and a three-seater, a low square coffee table, and buffet tables behind each couch. There was a flat screen TV mounted on the wall that separated the stairs and the living room and beneath it was a fireplace.

“I like this.” You quietly mumbled, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Hm?” He peers down at you, “You’ve decided?”

“No. But I like this living space; it’s very open and there’s plenty of natural lighting.” You move your eyes to the dining area to the right of the room. It was separated by a half wall; maybe a meter high. It had a similar dining table that you had back in the apartment so it was enough to seat both your families. There was a breakfast nook by the raised kitchen area with an extended space for a small bar complete with high chairs and wine rack.

You continue to roam around, noting every detail you like and things you’d like to change.

“We should transform the other rooms into personal offices and maybe a conference room for meetings?”

Jaehyun groans, almost childishly, “I don’t want to bring work home!”

“Babe, we’re so much farther from your office now. I’d rather have employees come over than spend hours on the road. Think about when we have kids,” You sidled right up to him, smoothing out his shirt, “We can both work and still look after them — I refuse to have a nanny. I want us to raise them and be there every waking minute.”

“How come you can use the children card and I can’t?”

You roll your eyes at him, “Because you use it to bait me into having sex. I’m using it for more practical reasons.”

He lets out an indignant huff, “So sex with me isn’t practical?”

You slap the back of your hand against his stomach, reeling back for a second time, but he laughs and grabs your hands.

“Let’s go up, hm?”

There’s a second living area by the top of the stairs; two parallel couches and an indoor fire pit that it’s own special vent above it, decorated meticulously to camouflage it as a chandelier. There were five bedrooms on the second floor and already, you’re thinking of renovating two of them. Two of the rooms had sunken areas for the bed and nightstands; large windows, and balconies that faced the backyard.

“Let’s convert this room into a walk-in closet.” You gestured to the room beside the master’s and stared at the extra room beside it. You found yourself mindlessly walking towards it as Jaehyun watched in curiosity. “What’s this room for?”

“Storage, I think?” He follows after you, walking inside the room. It was significantly smaller than the rest, but it made it a lot more cozier. It was at the front of the house, so it opened up to the front balcony and the view of the front yard. Something about this room just tugged at your heart and you shake your head at him.

“I don’t want this room to be storage.”

“Then what do you want it to be?”

You turn to him, eyes suddenly misty. You felt ridiculous for being so emotional over what seems to be the smallest room in the entire mansion. “The nursery.”

Immediately, Jaehyun’s features softens at your words. He holds out his hand for you and as you take it, you glanced over one side of the empty space.

“The crib could be there a-and a changing table beside it — we could put armchairs so when I’m nursing—”

“[Y/N],” He cups your face, brushing away the tears escaping your eyes, “Why are you crying?”

You laughed, “I don’t know. I feel so silly for crying over a room, but… I can see it very clearly, in this room; where we’ll spend sleepless nights because our baby is crying, maybe this is where they’ll take their first step a-and I don’t know how else to explain it.”

Jaehyun kisses your forehead, “You don’t have to. I understand what you mean. Just say this is the house you want and maybe in a few month’s time, what you’re seeing now would be reality then.”

You can't stop yourself from smiling, trying to bite it down but ultimately failing. “I think this is our forever home, Jaehyun.”

You swear you could see Jaehyun’s eyes misting as well when you had said ‘forever home.’ He pulls you closer, muttering with the faintest smile on his lips before kissing you, “I think so, too.”

Every day since joining Dr. Jeon, you and Jaehyun have shared lengthy, lazy kisses; the kind that wasn’t rushed and just translated the words of love neither of you didn’t know how to say. He had a hand on your cheek, tracing circles with his thumb, and the other holding you steady against him.You had your arms around his waist, grasping tightly on his shirt, scared that this could possibly just be a fever dream.

He pulls away first, darting down quickly for a peck, making you giggle. “I have something for you.”

“Jaehyun, honestly, you need to stop with the random gifts.” You sighed, sounding annoyed but the elation from moments earlier kept the smile on your face.

“This is different, I promise.” He pulls out a small rectangular box from his back pocket; you had thought it was his wallet so you didn’t give it much attention, but then again, he only used his card and he had that attached to his phone case. “I was supposed to propose to you with a different ring; I had already chosen and bought one before your parents insisted I used your mother’s.”

Jaehyun flips the lid open and you see an oval cut, white diamond on a thin silver chain. He takes it out and tucks the box back in his pocket after snapping it shut. “They don’t even know I already had a ring and I didn’t have the heart to tell them I did after they offered your mom’s ring. I can’t return it and I could always have it auctioned off at the next charity event, but I thought it would be better to turn it into a necklace instead.”

You turn around after he gestures for you to do so and you moved your hair out of the way when he began to put it on you. After he locks the clasp, you look down at it and carefully touched the gem. You spun back around to face him, “It’s beautiful.”

“I didn’t know when to give it to you, though. It’s not something I wanted to give it to you just because I felt like it, you know? So, I thought I’d give it to you when we pick out a house — our forever home. Marriage is a huge step, but choosing a house together where we start our own family; raise our kids, watch them grow up, and grow old together… that’s a whole other level for us. Truth be told, it scares me.”

“Why would that scare you?”

He casts his gaze downwards, “I know I can be a good husband, but I don’t know about being a father. I’m eager to have kids, you know that, but it’s not something I have experience on. I’ve dated you for seven years and I could use that to be a better partner but—”

“Jaehyun, I don’t have experience with being a mother, too. That’s why we’ll be learning together. We’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. You’ll be an amazing father.”

“Do you really think so?”

You nod at him and grinned, pulling him into a hug. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You feel him kiss the top of your head. When you pulled away, he hums, “So now that we chose this house…”

Catching onto what he was insinuating, you vehemently shook your head, “Absolutely not.”

a/n: wEw another long ass chapter. i *think* the next update should be after kinkmas! i hope you guys understand ;A;

next: part 8

~ buy me a peach? but why?

[cecilspeaks]

169 - The Whittler

Let us go then, you and I When the evening is spread out Against the sky And pick up some Dell Taco for dinner. Welcome to Night Vale.

Beyond our town, past the Sand Wastes, in the Scrublands, sits the old general store. An oaken cabin style A-frame with boxed windows and a covered patio. On the porch there sits a swinging bench and upon that bench sits an elderly man, his face crumpled like a discarded letter, his eyes like tire tracks hidden beneath the shady brim of a straw cowboy hat. The old man holds a block of Elmwood the size of a potato in his right hand, and in his left, a carving jack. He whittles away at the knot of food, shaving off small corners, making detailed lines and indentations. The wood is all his world. And this world is quiet in his lap, on his bench, on his patio, before his general store amid the Scrublands past the Sand Wastes, which curl about Night Vale like the gentle but calloused hands of a father holding a newborn. As the old man whittles, he whistles sad songs with no words. But all those who hear the notes know they are bout loss. That they are about loneliness. But no one hears those notes. Not yet. No one sees the old whittler, nor his general store far out in an uninhabited stretch of desert. Not yet. If they did, they would wonder how an old general store, which was not there yesterday, was suddenly here today, a shop that by all accounts had weathered decades of abusive heat, wind, and isolation. They would hear his sad song, and the universal language of wistful sorrow would hide from them their understanding of time.

Let’s have a look now at sports. This Saturday night, the Night Vale High School Scorpions basketball team begins the district tournament. The Scorpions, having finished the season 18-2, earned the number 1 seat this year, but face some tough competition in their bracket. In the first round, they must battle another basketball team. This is logical, because most basketball tournaments feature other basketball teams. But the other basketball team is considered weaker than the Night Vale Scorpions, because a series of accumulated numbers indicates this is so. Should the Scorpions make it out of the first round and into the semi-finals, they would likely battle the number 4 seed, Nature. A tougher matchup to be sure, as Nature is unpredictable and ubiquitous. Nature’s style of play is best described as capricious and random, sometimes showcasing an array of flashy skills like sunny days, crystalline lakes, and otters. But Nature is a lockdown defensive force with effective momentum stoppers like lightning, quicksand, and poison ivy.

And in the finals, the favorites to compete for the title are Night Vale High School versus themselves, perhaps the toughest battle of them all, as each player must confront their harmful secrets, painful pasts, and darkest nightmares. Themselves are able to match the pace and power of Night Vale’s offensive and defensive sets, and we expect an excellent game. Good luck, Scorpions!  

Most days the Scrublands are absent of humans, unapproachable and hostile. Today is not most days, as a line of Night Vale citizens has formed outside of the general store to see the old whittler and his wood menagerie. Parents ask for photos of their children with his work, and he only whistles and nods nearly imperceptibly. It could almost be interpreted as a slight twitch of the neck, rather than an affirming nod, but interpretations grow liberal when want is high.

Fathers and mothers snap pictures on their phones of children accepting gifts of wood figurines from the old man. The kids stare into the thin black ellipses that pass for his eyes, searching for the charming smile of elderly approval. But instead, seeing every single constellation of the night sky inside slits as thin as thistles and as black as tar. The historic expansion of the universe cannot be fully understood in words or even human thought, but it can be comprehended in the eyes of the tanned, wrinkled stranger.

The old whittler does not charge a penny for any of his work. He does not smile nor accept the many thank-yous coaxed out of the young ones by their manner-minded handlers. Nor does he accept requests. Children have many mascots, heroes, and cartoons that they love to possess via keepsake totems, and they repeatedly ask the old man for whittled representations of their favorite things, like Pokemon characters or one of Pixar’s anthropomorphic cars, or even Ted Allen, host of Food Network’s long running cooking competition “Chopped”. But the old whittler only carves what he carves. And he carves tiny horses, little cowboys, old-timey wagons, armadillos, tigers, tractors, almost anything you can think of. He finishes his sculpture of a koala bear and hands it to Amber Akinyi, who looks at her husband Wilson Levy, who is holding their sobbing, screaming 16-month-old baby Flora. The couple smiles together, never knowing that this balsa koala is everything they could have ever wanted beyond a loving family. Wilson begins to cry at the simple beauty of this craft. Amber begins to cry at the feeling of being understood, and young Flora stops crying as she fawns over the 6-inch tall antipodean marsupial, cartoonishly gnawing on a eucalyptus leaf.

The whittler also carves people. Small human figures, yes, like firefighters and ballerinas and clowns, but also actual people. Harrison Kip told the old man he wished to be happier in his own skin, and the old whittler grabbed Harrison’s cheeks and brought Harrison’s round, soft face before his own crinkled countenance, and Harrison screamed. He screamed in fear of what the old man was about to do. He also screamed in joyous anticipation, and the two screams were discordant like adjacent keys pressed simultaneously on a church organ. The old whittler pressed his knife against Harrison’s chin and began to pull the blade back, using the force of his thumb and the trunk of his forefinger. He repeated throughout Harrison’s assenting and defiant shouts, and after a few moments, Harrison stopped yelling and stood. His jaw squarer, his nose thinner and longer, his shoulders broader. And Harrison smiled.

Soon, the whittler began carving houses, roads, and city buildings. They were larger than the koala, much larger, for they were full-sized renditions of these things. He sliced and sawed away at block after block of red oak, hackberry and peachwood, forming new arteries of city travel, whole blocks of residences, and even cultural landmarks and venues. And the town of Night Vale, in a single late morning, began to expand into the distant and uninhabitable Scrublands of our desert.

Let’s have a look now at horoscopes. Gemini. Bury yourself in your work today, Gemini. Pile that garbage high and rest your weary head beneath its odorous, but comforting weight. Cancer. No more Mr. Nice Guy, Cancer. Today you are Mrs. Disinterested Lady. Get out there and be uninvolved in everything. Leo. You’re the talk of the town, Leo. Word after word is about you, and it is juicy! Like a rare steak, like a blood orange. Juicy like 2008 coutoure. Whew! You should hear what they’re saying. Virgo. You are not what you seem to be, Virgo. You seem to be a blackberry shrub, overreaching and prickly. But really you are a human, squishy and small. Continue to be the thorny fruit-bearing bush, though. Libra. You seek balance, Libra, but you are as lopsided as wealth disparity graph in an economist’s classroom. Share your worth, distribute your value fairly and compassionately, Libra, for the villagers are sharpening their tools. Scorpio. Hey Steve, love you pal! 

Sagittarius. Your (-) [0:10:42] in relationships is going to be your downfall, Sagittarius. You’re an obsidian monolith, towering over everyone, absorbing all light, except the faint reflection of those who want to know what glows inside your stony façade. You don’t have to be a diamond, Sagittarius, or even quartz. Just try for salt lick, OK? I think you can achieve that. 

Capricorn. Oh the games you play, Capricorn, you wicked little sea goat! You naughty caprine ocean dweller with your horns and scales, vexing us with your riddles and labyrinthian logic! The stars offer no advice for you, Capricorn, only envious praise. Aquarius. Put your money where your mouth is, but wash that money first, Aquarius. It’s been in so many other people’s mouths, ever since we added Jolly Ranchers as legal currency. Pisces. You’re swimming upstream, Pisces. Figuratively speaking, of course. I mean you are a human who does not need to actually swim upstream for food or a mate. Get out of the metaphorical stream and avoid the damage you’re going to do to your body and soul. Except for you, Tim. You’re a woodchuck, who is literally swimming upstream. I don’t like you, Tim, because you are eating my tulips. You can drown. Aries. Fake it til you pretend to make it, Aries. Taurus. Don’t hide your feelings, Taurus! Frame them! Display them ostentatiously on the wall. Mount them on plinths behind velvet robed (-) [0:12:33]. Curate an exhibit of your feelings, Taurus. Charge admission.

And now the news. The Night Vale City Council deliberated today on whether the old whittler in front of the old general store in the Scrublands was friend or foe to our town. Those voices arguing in favor of the old man celebrated the huge municipal expansion he was creating so quickly onto undeveloped land. 

“This new infrastructure would have taken us dozens of years and millions of dollars to deploy, and he has accomplished it all in half day!” these voices said in unison. “Plus,” they added, “he whittled a little army man for my kid, a bracelet for my wife, and a sweater for our cat. It’s everything we ever wanted!”

The dissenting voices, and they were few, could only argue that he failed to acquire proper permits for any of this construction, let alone an outdoor vendor’s license which is mandatory even for giveaways. Excepting restaurant samples, marketing promotions, and military dispersion of chemtrails. The many-voiced, uni-bodied creature that is the City Council, huffed in nearly unanimous support for this old man. His sad whistling, his prolific whittling, and his beneficence to our city. “Did you see?” said there of the voices, “that inside the general store there’s everything you could ever need. Cans, boxes, shelves, counters! Walls. It’s amazing. Everything is craved from a single block of wood, and it’s all connected! No glue or bolts or rivets anywhere.” “He’s a deft hand,” concurred four other voices. “How does he even find single blocks of wood that huge?” wondered a solo voice aloud. “Whatever!” the entire City Council roared in unison. “That old man is a superb whittler!”

And now financial news. [hysterical laughter Ha ha hahahaha hahaha every-everything’s fine! It’s just dandy! Uh, thank you for asking.

And now back to our top story. Out in the Scrublands, an entire wooden suburb has grown from the withered hands and sharp knife of the old whittler, who has for the first time today, moved from the porch of his general store. He stands now upon a stage, a round platform on the center of a great amphitheater, which he personally carved deep into the cracked, red rock of the desert floor. The people of Night Vale gather and sit on wood plank rows, which curve in a semi-circle around the old man on the stage. Each person in attendance holds in their hands a whittled object given to them as they entered the audience space. The items are all different, esoteric, and unique, each item and unexpected gift of the whittler. Each item the very thing they have always wanted, even if it was never what they thought they wanted. They hold gently their presents, protecting them with their very lives. The whittler, with his straw hat still shading his keyhole eyes and riverbend mouth, stands before the people of Night Vale who sit in an arena of his own making, each cradling a beloved statuette of his own making. The old man reaches out and takes the hand of his bride. She, of course, is of his own making as well. She is craved of weeping cedar. Her veil, though entirely wood, is somehow translucent, and her sorrowful eyes are faintly visible behind the intricate work of the whittler’s blade. The old man whistles once again, and the crowd whistles along with him. They know the song now. It lives in them like longing, like blood. Like a soul. They know every word of the wordless (-) [0:16:51], and the notes of loneliness spread across the Scrublands to the mountains’ edge and echo back in the key of hope, with a lilt of contentment and satisfaction. They will only be happy when he is happy and he is, indeed, happy. As the whittler clutches the hand of his newly carved betrothed, the clouds part, revealing the happiest thing of all: The weather.

[“Embroidery Stars” by Carrie Elkin http://carrieelkin.com/]

Into the Scrublands I went, myself already as happy as I could ever be for I was with my own true love, my husband. I journeyed to see the whittler for myself, as an effort of journalism, a chronicler of interesting events. I wanted for nothing. My happiness cannot be improved. Or so I believed.

When I arrived, the whittler more than 100 feet a way, and through a mass of thousands, greeted me with a nod so unobtrusive, I believed it to be a trick of the eye. But from the distance, I could see the whole of the universe in those dark eyes under dark shadow, behind the final violet of sunset. I knew he meant me.

Carlos and I stepped to the podium, and the old man opened his palm to reveal an original carving just for me. I had hoped it was a Nintendo Switch, but it was a [sea plane] [0:23:05]. Carlos, like a child on Santa’s lap, cooed and asked the old man for a superconductive supercollider. And the old whittler, his burlap cheeks heavy with gravity and history, reached into the breast pocket of his (-) shirt and handed Carlos a tiny wooden rose. Carlos hugged his rose to his chest, and I my (sea plane). The whittler took the hand again off his bride and gazed upon her, her veiled eyes met by his boundless stare. They stood like that for more than an hour, not speaking. The only sounds were the cicadas chirping and the crowd whistling.

But the tune faded, and soon only the cicadas cut through the silence of a still desert twilight. And one of us, Larry Leroy, stood and walked on to the stage. He touched the old man’s shoulder. The old man did not turn. He did not speak. He collapsed into black ash. Then his bride, then the seats beneath us, it all gave way to crumbling nothing. Then the buildings and roads and even the general store turned into ash. Finally, every one of our object dissipated, like Eurydice almost free from Hades. A gentle cool breeze arrived to sweep our hope away.

We returned home, wordless, with occasional whistles of the whittler’s tune, once again in a sad and lonesome key. Our cherished gifts, we told ourselves, were nothing more than baubles, ephemera, however blessed or magical. They were mere things, not love, not family, not true love, they were objects, toys. Props. Distractions. They were everything we have ever wanted, because we could hold them, see them, touch them. We can no longer do that, but we can remember what it was like. The rough of the wood against the soft of our hand.

Stay tuned next for our new game show: “Name all the nouns!”

And as always, good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Give a man and a fish and he’ll wonder what your deal is. Teach a man to fish and he’ll ask you once again to please leave him alone.

[bngtanah]

The Difference Between Boys & Girls | o2

summary: Sam & Erin are university students who share a cheap one bedroom apartment above a shitty takeaway restaurant. Due to the limited space, they’ve grown accustomed to sharing just about everything, including the occasional kiss. Despite the amount of time they spend together, their complete comfort in sharing a bed, etc, the pair continues to hold on to the idea that they are completely “platonic.” None of their friends believe this excuse, but as ridiculous as it sounds the unconventional living situation truly does seem to work for them.

Well, it used to anyway..

pairing: Jung Hoseok (Samuel Park)  x Named OC characters: meet the cast.

genre: angst, smut, fluff

chapters: o1| o2| o3| o4| o5| o6| o7| o8| o9| 10| 11| 12| 13| 14

warning: boyfriend!hoseok, jealous!hoseok, friends to lovers trope, college au, angst, sexual themes, slow burn, ambw

a/n: i am a fool. I accidentally deleted my blog so this is me re-uploading EVERYTHING.

With her body wrapped in a dress that stopped just a couple inches below her ass, bare shoulders and a sheer cutout in the front Sam was having a hard time keeping his eyes from travelling along the contours of Erin's body.

Originally she planned on wearing just a pair of jeans and a cute top, thus ensuring that she would attract the least amount of attention when they reached their destination. That all changed when Samuel decided he was going to tag along, she didn't mind all eyes being on her as long as he was by her side.

And of course, the surge of confidence she felt after having caught Sam's eyes widen and his mouth drop open slightly when she stepped out of the bedroom may have had something to do with it also. He had managed to settle his features and avert his gaze once Erin joined him for their obligatory pregame shot in the kitchen, making sure to keep his distance like he was drinking with his baby sister and not some woman he'd leer at in a dim nightclub.

His reaction only made Erin stifled a giggle after she allowed the alcohol to ease down her throat. He could play it cool all he wanted, Erin knew she had ruffled his feathers and that alone was almost enough to make their whole night worth it before it even began.

"Aren't you, like...cold? In that dress?"  Samuel asked, uttering his first full sentence since they'd left the apartment.

Erin only shook her head and made a small noise to demonstrate her disagreeing.

Samuel scoffed and moved closer as they walked in stride, he knew better than to believe her when she was obviously freezing. He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her close to his side, the pad of his thumb drumming lightly against her hip. "Like hell you're not."

The touch burned through the flimsy layer of cloth and Erin was sure her cheeks would be flushed if she had any less melanin in her skin.

She couldn't allow her mind to read too much into his actions, however. As far as she knew Samuel had always been a very hands-on kind of guy. If he liked you, you knew because he'd find any excuse in the book to touch you. But there was also the side of his personality that just radiated affection when he was comfortable, the occasional hand grab, hug, caress usually mean nothing more to him than simply being friendly.

Sammy just liked human contact and sometimes it honestly drove Erin nuts.

"I think we're almost there" Erin commented as she glanced down at her cell phone, rereading the address Kim sent her a few hours earlier. "It should be on the left after this intersection."

"This doesn't really look like a good location for a bar" Sam noted as he glanced around their surroundings.

The streets were considerably empty for a Friday night and the few people they did see shuffling around looked like they were auditioning for part in Rent. Definitely not the young hip crowd either of them had been expecting.

Five minutes, and one wrong turn later they figured out exactly why the area seemed so dead.

The 'fun night out' Erin had been invited to turned out to be a gallery showing for a few unknown local artists. The air of excitement deflated the second Erin and Sam entered the building.

Kim was there at the entrance, craning her head back and forth and when she spotted Erin she beamed, and waved wildly. The second she did a quick scan of Erin's attire and noticed the handsome young man attached to her hip, her smile dulled considerably.

"Unnie! You remember my roommate, Samuel?"

Kim extended a hand, a smile way too broad to be genuine plastered on her lips. "Of course! It's a pleasure to see you again."

She was clearly lying since her nostrils were a bit too flared to be sincere. That didn't stop Sammy from grinning widely and taking her hand, bowing slightly to press his lips lightly to the back of her palm. "The pleasure is all mine."

Erin rolled her eyes gently and quirked her eyebrow in his direction, he winked at her and stood up straight again.

"Right. Well Erin I thought the friend you mentioned bringing along was a girl? Since this is a supposed to be a girl's night out."

And you said we would be going out for a drink, I guess we're both liars huh? Erin thought to herself.

"I know, but she couldn't make it and Sammy decided to volunteer to take her place. He might as well be a girl; you'll hardly notice the difference I promise."

Kim looked skeptical. Like she wanted to push the issue further but decided against it. "Alright he can stay but he has to participate like the rest of us."

"Participate, in what?" Sam asked.

"The post night discussion of course!" Kim answered, with more excitement than necessary as she reached down into her purse and dug out a notebook and pen for each of them. "We're all going to take notes on our favourite pieces and discuss them after the viewing, fun right?"

Erin braved a smile since she was used to Kim's concept of fun. Sam, on the other hand, refused to believe that she was serious as he erupted into a fit of laughter. Erin dug her elbow into his side and gave Kim a look of reassurance, "He has a weird sense of humour, we’re going to love this."

Kim nodded slowly and readjusted the strap of her purse "Okay, if you need anything just find me I'll be around" She began backing away "Oh and the drinks are free if you want one" The petite girl added before turning and disappearing into the shallow crowd.

"Homework, E. Seriously?" Sam began complaining not two seconds after Kim was no longer within earshot.

"What happened to Mr. Positive? The drinks are free that's something, right?"

"It's the only reason I'm still standing here"

"Oh come on, you wouldn't abandon your noona. Especially after you asked to tag along" Erin chuckled as she clipped the pen onto the side of her notebook.

"That's because I thought we would be drinking, not analyzing crappy art"

"Listen, I don't wanna do this anymore than you do. I'm way overdressed and I don't even like art. But at least we're here together and we've already been spotted so it's too early to bail anyway. If you want to continue grumbling I won't stop you but grumble on the way to the bar to get us some drinks."

Sam parted his lips to argue, but the resolve in Erin's eye made him second guess that. They could literally argue all night over this and he wasn't about to upset her when she looked that nice. "You're right," He sighed "You want your usual?"

"Yes please," Erin beamed and leaned upward to peck his cheek before he sauntered away in the direction of the bar with a dopey smile.

Suddenly very aware of the fact that she was standing in the middle of the floor alone, Erin quickly moved towards the nearest display of art. She pulled the pen from her notepad and pretended to be interested in the large canvas splattered with various lines and squiggles. Erin was never very appreciative of art even when she could understand the concept.

"Oh my god, this looks like a goddamn finger painting" She muttered underneath her breath.

A bellow of male laughter tickled Erin's ears from behind and almost made her jump out of her skin. She turned and came face to face with an unfamiliar person. His rounded cheeks made him seem young, much too young to be mixed in with this crowd but once Erin allowed her eyes to drift further down from his face she determined that he was probably in her age bracket. His hair was parted through the middle and pushed away from his face, colored a shade that Erin could only describe as neon tangerine and he wore a smile on his face that made the room seem ten shades brighter. He was tall but only by comparison to Erin, he was still a few inches shorter than Sammy so that brought him right to her eye level.

"Sorry, I didn't realise I was talking out loud," Erin said softly, accompanying her words with a slight bow.

"Don't be, you're not lying" He answered, still trying to stop himself from laughing "I'm Brian by the way."

"Erin"

Brian bit into his lip once his laughter subsided and subtly felt Erin up with his eyes. She pretended not to notice and returned her attention to the painting.

"So I guess art isn't really your thing either?"

"I love it actually, but the use of color and composition here is just lazy and uninspired." Brian commented and took a step closer, he was close enough for Erin to catch the scent of his cologne and a tiny shudder ran down the base of her spine. It was small but significant considering the only man that made her feel that way lately was Sammy. "Look at this area right here" He gestured to the far left side of the canvas "To the untrained eye it would probably look like a deliberate splatter of red paint to represent anguish, but I know that this artist just stepped on a tube and left the mark there."

"Mhm.... wait can you repeat that first thing again," Erin said, quickly putting her pen against the notebook and writing down the gist of what his.

"Are you a journalist?" Brian asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"University student, this is just for my.... study group. How do you know so much about this?"

"Because it's my painting and it only took me about five minutes to finish" Brian grinned and turned to face Erin. He was inches away and the coy smile that spread across his lips when their eyes connected made her chortle. Brian wet his bottom lip with his tongue which inadvertently drew Erin's attention there before the sound of someone clearing their throat behind them broke up the staring contest.

"Uh. The line was long, here's your drink. Who is this?" Sammy asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Erin smiled and took the tumbler of liquid from Samuel "This is Brian, we're making fun of his terrible art. Brian, this is my roommate; Sammy"

Both men nodded toward each other, exchanging a polite handshake before turning their attention back to Erin. Samuel was the first to speak.

"Listen do you really want to stay here all night? The drinks are watered down and I know how much you hate this art crap"

Erin shrugged gently but made a sour face the second she took a sip of her drink, it tasted like cranberry juice mixed with tap water, not vodka.

"Oh gross, let's get out of here before Kim finds me again," She said resting her cup on the nearest flat surface. She was all prepared to sprint out the nearest exit when a hand gently grabbed her upper arm and stopped her in her tracks.

"If you're going to leave can I see your phone before you go?" Brian asked, flirtatious smile still present.

"Why do you need to see my phone?"

"So I can put my number into it"

"Wow, you are subtle!" Erin laughed, taking a second to think of a response. "Ah, what the hell" She sighed and pulled her phone out of her purse, unlocked it and handed it over.

"Oh, what's this? It looks like you're accidentally calling me, that's weird. I guess I'll just have to save your number in my phone as well" Brian mused as his fingers moved over the keypad.

The entire interaction made Sam's lips fall into a flat, disapproving line while Erin giggled like it was the most amusing thing she'd ever seen.

"I hope to see you around sometime, Erin" Brian waved while she and Samuel headed toward the entrance.

"You too"

Instead of going home like Erin thought they would be, she and Samuel ended up at a bar a few blocks down from the warehouse where the gallery viewing was. Kim and all the members of her study group called multiple times but Erin stopped feeling bad about not picking after the first few shots.

Somehow one hour turned into to two and both Sam and Erin were tipsy to say the least they burst out onto the sidewalk, laughing at jokes neither of them were saying out loud.

"Do you know what we should do right now?" Sammy said excitedly, his hands holding onto Erin's shoulders.

"What?"

"Go watch the stars! Like we used to in school... I'm pretty sure there's a park somewhere around here" He muttered to himself but propelled forward anyway, dragging Erin along with him. She allowed him to pull her along as he tried to gain his bearings, she wasn't really ready to go home yet either.

After some trial and error, they managed to find the "park", which was actually just a patch of grass and a small hill but who was complaining?

Sammy motioned for Erin to sit next and she scrunched her nose upward "I don't want my dress to get dirty I'll stand, it's okay."

"Here," He sighed, pulling the jacket he was wearing off his shoulders and laying it down over the grass. "Better princess?"

"Much" Erin grinned as she moved to sit, exhaling a deep breath once she was settled and Sammy's arm found its way behind her. "I can't remember the last time we did this," She said after a beat, glancing up at the illuminated night sky.

"I do. It was the night of my graduation, you rode the bus all the way from Seoul to Daegu just to be there for my ceremony and stayed up with me to watch the stars even though you had a class the next morning." Sammy recalled with fondness in his voice.

"I remember that you begged me for like two hours to sneak out to the beach with you. Then when we actually got there you couldn't stop freaking out about being caught."

"My mother is a very perceptive woman; I still think she noticed me leaving in her sleep!"  Sammy retorted and both of them exploded with laughter.

"You made a promise that night too, do you remember that?"

Sam nodded with a smile but didn't saying anything.

"You're just going to make me repeat it by myself?"

"You look so cute when you say it noona"

Erin rolled her eyes, but cleared her throat anyway "I- state your name-"

"Sang-min 'Samuel' Park!"

"-So solemnly swear to live my life to fullest degree of potential and happiness possible from this moment on, recognising that I am no longer a child, but that doesn't I have to turn into a cynical old man. All agreed say aye." Erin was hardly able to finish talking before she gave into the laughter.

"Aye!" Sammy repeated in a squeaky voice and joined Erin in a chorus of giggles and guffaws.

A moment of comfortable silence passed over them once the laughter died down and Erin sighed again, snuggling closer to Sam and leaning backwards on her elbows. "You think you kept your promise? Are you happy, Sam?"

He frowned for a second and shrugged "I'm alright, I've still got you with me so that's good enough for me." He said softly, reaching forward to brush a stray hair out of Erin's eyes and tuck it behind her ear. The tips of his fingers slowly trailed along her jawline as if he was touching her for the first time. When he cupped her jaw in one hand and pulled her face closer his Erin found herself letting him do so.

They had kissed before, games of spin the bottle at high school parties and a few times after having a couple drinks at home. But those could be explained away by a momentary lapse in judgement and raging underdeveloped hormones. This was a deliberate action and Samuel made sure to move at a slow pace to give Erin enough to time to back out if she wanted to.

She didn't want to.

"You looked so good tonight, noona" Sam whispered against the shell of Erin's ear, the bridge of his nose nuzzled against the hollow of Erins cheek and the warmth of his breath fanned over her skin causing heat to spread all over her body. Her breathing grew shallow and her eyes fluttered shut in anticipation, just as his lips barely brushed against her own a loud blaring noise shattered their fairy tale and made them both jump backwards.

"Oh shit, I think that's my phone. Sorry" Erin fumbled around with the clutch in her hands before pulling out her cell phone and preparing to curse out whoever had the misfortune of calling her at that exact moment.

"Hello?" Erin barked into the receiver.

"I- I'm sorry is this not a good time? Were you sleeping?" Brian’s gentle voice momentarily disarmed Erin's annoyance and she shook her head.

"Oh Brian is that you? No... I'm actually not even home yet, Sammy and I stopped for a drink before going home"

"O-oh okay," Brian replied softly, taking a second to think before speaking again "Well maybe you can text me when you home just so I know you're safe."

"I can do that" Erin answered, trying her best to smile even though she noticed the sudden change in Sam's posture, going from relaxed to rigid the second Erin answered the phone. He stood up after she hung up and held out a hand to help her to her feet. After she was standing he leaned down to pick up his jacket and dusted it off before placing it around Erin's shoulders.

"I should get you home."

[faean]

Adamance of a Dragon

Collaborator: @i-am-here-with-fanfic.

Rating: T+; Mild Language

Word Length: 3,276

Chapter 6- First Day Jitters

           First day of school! I still cannot believe I convinced Aaron to leave this early in the morning so we could arrive at our classes before most everyone else. I also just wanted to spend more time out of the house after being stuck inside for the last two weeks of March having to fight my heat. The train station was still fairly busy, but there certainly were fewer people.

           Eating a breakfast burrito to pass the time as I waited for Aaron, I received a good morning text from Todoroki. After learning a bit more about his childhood from his sister over the past month, I began to cherish these small efforts by him far more. Even with the loss of my family, I had Aaron and Aria by my side. I simply cannot fathom feeling so lonely for so long with one’s family so close by. A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I tried to push the thoughts out of my head. Dwelling on them any longer would likely result in my holding a grudge against Endeavor, and I do not wish to choose sides unless absolutely necessary.

           “Hey, Faian. You ready to go?”

           I must have been quite engrossed in my thoughts to not notice when Aaron arrived. With a simple nod, we began our trek to U.A.

           Casting a side-glance at Aaron, I saw the odd look on his face. I could even smell stress sweat through his deodorant, though, I did not need my draconic senses to do so.

           “Nervous, little flame?”

           “A bit. It’s just the pressure of going to such a well-known school. It’ll pass. Hopefully.”

           It did not take long to arrive, and we had three quarters of an hour before class even began. First stopping at Aaron’s shoe locker so he could switch his footwear (I kept my moccasins on, and wore my jacket draped over my shoulders/school uniform), we continued through the school, looking for our classes and generally just exploring.

           Until Aaron decided to head to class early, wanting some time to gather his nerves. Bidding him farewell, I decided to do the same and wait for class to start. While in class.

           Yeah.

           ‘Oh gods, I am a mess’ was the first thing to pass through my mind as I entered through the massive door. Although, any thoughts of anxiety were dashed when I noticed just how peculiarly the school made their accommodations for having an extra student enrolled. There was literally just an extra desk in the row furthest from the door, and it looked incredibly out of place.

           I mean, could they not have just centered it? Or changed the lay out? Schools back in the States easily accommodated over 30 students in a single class room; at least, that is what Aaron told me, considering I have not been inside a class room in nearly five years.

           Shrugging, as there was little point in continuing this line of thought, I took my seat in the back corner, feeling a bit like some sort of protagonist. Although, I would probably be more of an anti-hero than anything. Perhaps my time in this course will change that. Then again, that would require altering my very nature as a dragon.

           Ah, well. I doubt that will come into focus any time soon.

           Crossing my arms on my desk and resting my chin on them, I took note of the students who gradually filled the room. Some were rather, well, vivid. I suppose being a hero does require a certain energy and amount of extravagance, but some of these characters were a tad over the top.

           Fortunately, I was able to avoid much of the ruckus they caused and greeted Todoroki when he arrived; however, the young lass who sat ahead of me was kind enough to introduce herself.

           She had a lovely voice and carried herself with an aura of confidence. Her luscious black hair and warm onyx eyes, along with the sweet smile on her lips also painted her with a caring attitude.

           “I’m Yaoyorozu Momo, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

           “Nadal Faian. I apologize if I sound formal or my Japanese is a bit odd. I am originally from the States; California to be precise.” I answered after she bowed, bowing my head in response.

           “That explains the extra desk. U.A is known for accepting only a certain number of students. You must be pretty special for them to make an exception.”

           A small blush dusted my cheeks at the compliment. I nodded sheepishly, unsure of how to respond. Thankfully, I did not have to as a green-haired male entered the room, causing a stir that drew the attention of many of the students, including myself and Yaoyorozu. Admittedly, with all the noise, I could not discern who said what, nor what was even said until a familiar tired voice cut through the commotion (I may have also not been paying attention until said voice).

           “If you’re just here to make friends then you can pack up your stuff now.”

           Being so far in the back, I could not see who was speaking (I had an idea), but he continued.

           “Welcome to U.A.’s hero course … It took eight seconds before you all shut up. That’s not gonna work. Time is precious. Logical students would understand that.”

           By now I could confirm who was speaking. Aizawa Shouta, a fairly tall male with messy black hair in a black outfit, a scarf resting atop his shoulders and a sleeping bag(?) in his grasp. “Hello, I am Aizawa Shouta, your homeroom teacher.”

           His introduction shocked the trio in the front, and several other students in the room; however, he remained unfazed and continued speaking. “Right, let’s get to it. Put these on and head outside.”

           He pulled what looked like a physical education uniform out of his sleeping bag (I am curious as to why he had it in there of all places). No questions were asked, though, as everyone followed his instructions.

           I was the first on the field we were to meet at, having forgone changing in the locker room in favor of simply shifting my current outfit into the new uniform (still had to place the new uniform in my locker to do so). It had earned me a few glances but, to be fair, I did look a bit off with the subtle mutations from my quirk in the first place. Aaron had once described the feeling as entering a room where everything was moved a couple inches in one direction and knowing something was off, but not being able to tell what it was.

           While I was still the only one present, Aizawa had approached me and asked (it was more of an order) if I could aid in the upcoming exercise, leaving out exactly what it was I would be helping with.

           I agreed.

           Once the rest of the students had gathered, Aizawa announced that we would be partaking in a quirk assessment test, which led to several students to repeat the words in confusion. A brunette, whom I recognized as Uraraka, the girl I had tied with, also asked about orientation, exclaiming that we would be missing it by taking this test.

           Not bothering to look at the other students, Aizawa stated “if you really wanna make the big leagues, you can’t waste time on pointless ceremonies.” Several students gasped at his bluntness before he continued. “Here at U.A., we’re not tethered to traditions. That means I get to run my class however I see fit.”

           More gasps.

           “You’ve been taking standardized tests most of your lives. But you never got to use your Quirks in physical exams before. The country’s still trying to pretend we’re all created equal by not letting those with the most power excel. It’s not logical. One day, the ministry of Education will learn.”

           Turning to face the students, his attention landing on one in particular, our teacher kept up his lecture. “Bakugou, you managed to get the most points on the entrance exam. What was your farthest distance throw with a softball when you were in Junior High?”

           All eyes were trained on Bakugou as he answered. “Sixty-seven meters, I think.”

           ‘Thank gods I excel in mathematics, otherwise the metric system would have screwed me during the move,’ I thought before Aizawa requested Bakugou to throw the ball using his Quirk. Having been in a different area than him during the entrance exam, I knew naught of his Quirk, nor the applications of it. My lack of knowledge piqued my interest as I watched intently (although, the thought of being needed for something still lingered in my mind).

           Standing in the circle, Aizawa told him that he can do anything with his Quirk, so long as he remained within the circle; followed by him berating Bakugou for wasting time (it had only been a few seconds!). Although, it did not phase the ashen blond one bit, his nonchalant response serving as evidence.

           However, I was rather baffled when he loudly growled ‘Die’ and launched the ball with what appeared to be an explosion.

           While the ball was still soaring through the air, Aizawa plainly said, “all of you need to know your maximum capabilities,” pausing to let the ball hit the ground, he faced the rest of the students, revealing the impressive distance of 705.2 meters on his phone (I think it was his phone) while he continued to say, “it’s the most logical way of figuring out your potential as a pro hero.”

           Hear that? Even more gasping.

           After the initial shock wore off, many students began to voice their excitement about being able to use their abilities; however, our teacher was quick to silence them.

           “So, this looks fun, huh? (By the gods, gasping again?!) You have three years here to become a hero. You think it’s all gonna be games and play time? Idiots. Today you’ll compete in eight physical tests to gauge your potential, with Nadal here,” he gestured to me briefly, “demonstrating each test and setting the bar you should aim to surpass; without using his Quirk. Whoever comes in last has no potential and will be expelled immediately.”

           Two things. First, I now realize that it was Aizawa who expelled an entire class, once upon a time. Second, I cannot believe he is using me as the control. Well, actually, I can. After all, he was the teacher I had to meet with to fill out the paperwork for my enrollment (alongside the principal). Still, it would have been nice to have received a warning, especially with some of my classmates now murmuring about me (it did not help that I could hear everything, fully attentive this time around).

           After reminding us that he gets to run this class as he sees fit and telling us to just leave if we have a problem with it, Aizawa received several complaints. Specifically, from Uraraka, who passionately believed the threat of expulsion to be unfair and question his ruling.

           Once again establishing why we are here at U.A., our teacher answered with a string of scenarios. “Oh, and you think natural disasters are? Or power-hungry villains? Hm? Or catastrophic accidents that wipe out whole cities? No, the world if full of unfairness. It’s a hero’s job to try to combat that unfairness. If you wanna be a pro, you’re gonna have to push yourself to the brink. For the next three years, U.A. will throw one terrible hardship after another at you. So, go beyond. Plus Ultra-style.”

           Aizawa held a look of contempt on his face, challenging the students with a beckoning motion of his hand. Also…

           More god damn gasping.

           With that said, we began the tests. The first test we took (and the first for me to demonstrate), was the 50 meter dash. Complying with the parameters set by my teacher for me, I traversed the distance without using my Quirk. This earned me a total time of 3.51 seconds and was the goal the other students were supposed to pass (which was done by the male with mufflers in his calves, whom I learned was named Iida Tenya).

           We continued this pattern throughout all eight tests, with some of the students capable of matching my base numbers and even surpassing them. My results for the remaining seven tests were…

           Grip Strength- 453 kilograms.

           Standing Long Jump- Cleared.

           Sustained Sideways Jump- I do not recall; I sort of got distracted.

           Ball Throw- 1,327 meters.

           And the last three were only regular old fitness tests, not exactly worth mentioning. Admittedly, it was indeed unfair for me to act as the control since my body is naturally superhuman in order for it to withstand my Quirk. Also, I am certain Aizawa knew this from our previous meetings and exploited it; as if threatening expulsion was not enough motivation.

           Especially when the small green-et was singled out by Aizawa during the ball thrown. His Quirk was self-destructive but, I must admit, I took a liking to him. I remember just how much my own Quirk would break down my body until I began channeling it properly. Even his minor speech was rousing, and I could not prevent myself from helping relieve some of the pain of his broken finger (I made a splint using some earth magic).

           And I was not the only one with an interest in him. At some point during these tests, I noticed All Might (of all people) watching from around a corner. He was quite enthralled by Midoriya Izuku, and his obvious excitement during his ball throw reminded me that Aaron and I saw him training Midoriya.

           Aside from those few things, and Bakugou nearly assaulting Midoriya, the assessment had come to a close with out much issue. Aizawa displayed our overall standing, not bothering to go over individual scores, as well as admitting that his threat of expulsion was no more than a ‘logical ruse’. Or a ‘rational deception’, I am not sure which (I still have some trouble translating back and forth). Fortunately, Yaoyorozu figured that out and, hopefully, a few other students did.

           I would expect nothing less; however, of the girl who was one of two people who beat the base line average Aizawa had me set (Todoroki was the other, of course). With that, most of us went back to class, with the exception for Midoriya, who had to head to Recovery Girl’s office.

           The rest of the day was uneventful, well, until I was awaiting Aaron after school.

           “Oi! Cat eyes!”

           Sighing, I turned towards the owner of the raucous voice, Bakugou Katsuki, to answer. “Ello, Bakugou. How may I be of assistance?”

           Stormy eyes glared into mine as I stood stooped before the shorter male, my expression maintaining its natural disinterest.

           “You can tell me how the hell a damn extra like you pulled off those stunts without a Quirk! Did Aizawa have you cheat to make us look bad?” The edge in his voice and sparking of his palms would have been intimidating if he was, well, intimidating.

           “Ah, dear Bakugou, there is no need for you to fret. Aizawa merely wished for me to provide more competition. As for how I accomplished such feats,” I took a step closer, a mischievous grin dancing across my lips as I honeyed my words, “such knowledge requires an equal trade, Iratus Catella.”

           With that, I strolled back towards the school, leaving the ‘angry puppy’ behind to contemplate what I told him; however, I was not paying much attention to my surroundings as I was focused on finding Aaron. As a result, I knocked into someone. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around the person and spun so they would land on me (it happened a lot when Aaron and I were kids).

           “What luck you must have,” slipped my mouth as I smiled lazily on the ground.

           Noticing the ruffled emerald hair tickling my chin, I realize it was Midoriya who I rushed into it. I also remembered that he had broken his finger during the assessment test, and I grew worried I may have damaged it further. After all, such a small yet defiant young lad requires-

           ‘Oh, my gods, he is adorable!’, was what shot through my mind as he pushed himself up, the warm light of the afternoon sun cascading over-

           ‘Why the hell must it be so bright?’, was the second thought that went through my mind as Midoriya became ridiculously flustered and scrambled off of me, apologizing profusely as three other students -Iida, Uraraka, and Aaron- approached us, asking if we were ‘okay’.

           “I am quite all right, thank you. I am more concerned with the little clover. I do hope I did not aggravate your finger,” I say, sitting up and crossing my legs.

           “Oh, no! It’s completely fine, I mean, I should’ve been looking where I was going and if you didn’t catch me, I probably would’ve needed to head back to the nurse and it would have been super embarrassing to go back so soon after already breaking my finger!” He finally took a breath and started to calm down, asking if I needed a hand.

           Picking my jacket off the ground and shifting my uniform into my regular outfit, I stood without assistance, thanking Midoriya for the offer as he, Iida, and Uraraka held a look of mild confusion.

           Iida was the first to speak, asking “May I inquire as to what your Quirk is? It must be quite powerful if our teacher recognizes your strength.”

           “That’s right! Aizawa had you set the bar for everyone. Didn’t he have you do it without your Quirk, too?” Uraraka followed.

           “I suppose it would be best for me to share. The name bestowed upon my Quirk is ‘Draconico Vitae’, better known as Dragon of Life,” I gestured to a few of my noticeable draconic features. “Simply put, I am capable of anything a dragon of my kind is, including having the ability to perform powerful elemental magic. As a result, my natural capabilities as a human are far greater than the average person; otherwise, I would not have survived the backlash of my Quirk.”

           “Physical traits and abilities aside, Faian also shares the same nature as a dragon. He hoards knowledge and anything of importance, is inclined to disinterest, and tends to be lazy,” Aaron added.

           Iida and Uraraka were impressed, while Midoriya was ceaselessly scribbling in a damaged journal. Being much taller, I could see that he was taking notes on my Quirk, as well as sketching several of my traits and jotting down possible fighting styles. Admittedly, his mumbling was much more interesting, but he was speaking so fast I was unable to understand most of it.

           “You know, I would be willing to share more on my Quirk, for a price.”

           However, Aaron was quick to remind me of the time, stating “Faian, now is not the time for you to make trades. I’m certain they want to know more about your Quirk, but we need to get going. You did order a bunch of new furniture that was supposed to come in today.”

           “My Victorian-era furniture! We need to get to my house before the delivery truck, otherwise they may skip it and I shall lose my payment!”

           “You wasted a lot of time not using contractions.”

           After casting a playful glare towards Aaron, I bid farewell to our new friends. Picking Aaron up bridal-style, I unfurled my wings and took off towards my house. 

Beta Reader, Collaborator, Owner of Aria and Aaron Granchester, and Creator of the Illegitimate Son storyline- @i-am-here-with-fanfic.

PS- Check out her tumblr and SPAM it.

[zukadiary]

Hustle Mates ~ Cosmos Troupe 2018

I know I'm here so often it's hardly special anymore… but this trip had the distinction of being my first VACATION in Japan in 5 years. I'd forgotten what mornings look like in this country (and as I'm now back at work for the remaining few days, I already miss them).

It also had the distinction of being Kazuki Sora's first lead. Of my standout favorites in my life thus far as a Takarazuka fan, Sora is the only one who, by some witch magic, grabbed me when she was a tiny child—before I ever set foot in a theater here, before she even got a shinko lead. After growing quite used to following her around the edges of the stage with my opera glasses and mentally cursing camera operators for not panning two inches to the left to get more than a sliver of her arm in some great dance scene, this year brought first an absolute dream role in Anita, followed by the center spotlight that I honestly wasn't convinced she'd ever get. It's been vindicating seeing her immense talents displayed so prominently, and deeply moving in ways utterly different from any of the other cyclones of emotion Takarazuka fandom has thrown upon me. A very non-Soragumi friend had a chance to see the show, and I felt nervous and wary like I was taking an acquaintance to my own child's recital (someone please tell me when I got old enough to experience THAT feeling). And much like a mom, I plan to throw out any attempt at objectivity and rave about my girl until you don't want to listen anymore.

Hustle Mates was primarily a collection of songs and dances from Soragumi history, with a few non-Takarazuka songs, MC sections, and mini skits thrown in. It's a tiny cast of 16, so if you like anyone in it you have a good chance of seeing her featured. Long-time Soragumi fans will likely find it very fun and nostalgic regardless. Sora leading a show about the history of Soragumi which contains a great number of songs with the word sora in them made it kind of sound like she was singing about herself for two hours, which greatly amused me (and apparently tickled Ishida-sensei too).

Act 1 opens with two original songs—the very upbeat Hustle Mates theme, and then more of a ballad (also with ample use of the word SORA)—followed by a selection of songs from some of the most well-known Soragumi musicals: Copacabana, Phantom, Top Hat, Singin' in the Rain, and an Elisabeth medley, which despite the general overuse of Elisabeth songs was still my favorite. Watashi Dake Ni was a group musumeyaku number, Mikaze Maira got to unleash her very impressive pipes on that last note. Saigo no Dance also started as a group otokoyaku number. Moeko entered partway through for a solo line, and I know she has the shinko Tod experience under her, but since I've never seen that, it was maybe the most surprising and powerful few seconds of Moeko I've ever witnessed. Then Sora came in to finish the song, and in some alternate universe where she's in a different class and tall enough to be a top star I'd sell both of my kidneys to see her Elisabeth every single day of the run. Sora solo Kitsch came next and was likewise flawless, so I guess I'll be satisfied with keeping my kidneys if they finally air that dang shinko in the next couple of months while Tsukigumi is playing.

Then we have a skit… I'm a bit fuzzy on exactly what went on in it, but I suspect I might be looking for sense where there was none. Setohana Mari enters dressed like a dominatrix, loudly cracking whip and all, with two other musumeyaku guards of Partial Time Prison. They do a roll call of past Soragumi characters who come out one by one and make meta jokes about themselves (discussing their offenses?) while the three guards smack them around. Sora is brought out last, as Lucheni, and gives a long speech, the punchline of which is he's on the path to reform thanks to his new life selling green juice mix in what is probably a pyramid scheme. Each performance she ad-libbed Louis and Marie Antoinette off the stage.

Moeko and Mineri who were playing Jose and Carmen in prison stick around to sing Temptation (GREAT song, I wanted a little more from these two) while the underclassmen get ready to sing Amapola a cappella conducted by Homare Seri. This was QUITE impressive, and I love it when they use Bow to give underclassmen little challenges like this. Act 1 ends with a medley of the Soragumi revue songs that got the most votes in the internet poll they ran a few months ago. They aren't listed individually in the program and I'm probably missing something, but off the top of my head I remember Millennium Challenger, Dancing For You, Funky Sunshine, Nice Guy, Phoenix Takarazuka, and Hot Eyes. Sora singing Funky Sunshine (SO—RA— POWER) was HIGHLY satisfying. They finish on Asu e no Energy, which still made me cry even though I JUST saw Citrus Breeze… but put my kid in the center of a song that always makes me cry anyway and I guess that's what you get.

Act 2 was less nostalgic and more interesting to me, probably because Sora's dance scenes multiplied significantly. They opened with a nihonmono medley, beginning with a Soran dance which I LOVED (the one from Viva Festa always gets me hyped too). Sora entered Takarazuka with a background in hip hop dance which I think always gives her movements a particular dynamic energy and a sharpness that sets her apart even from the other great Takarazuka dancers, but it stood out to me even more than usual in the Soran scene, probably in contrast to the traditional Japanese garb. I REALLY LOVED IT (even if I can imagine nichibu purists cringing). During my first two viewings of the show I was mostly overwhelmed and ecstatic that Sora had gotten a lead at all, but the last one, particularly in the Soran scene for whatever reason, it hit me HARD how much she's grown and how commanding and enthralling she is on stage.

After we spend a bit more time reliving Soragumi's very brief nihonmono history through song, there's a "rain corner" featuring a folk song that I rather like and a skit that made me feel COMPLEX THINGS. Mappu (Matsukaze Akira) plays some kind of rain god/wizard/???, in a whimsically decorated raincoat with two cute little ghosts hanging off her umbrella. Sora enters playing a guy out for a walk in the park in the rain where he meets a girl (Mineri) who lets him share her umbrella, and when the rain stops she asks him what he's doing in the park in the rain without one. BEAR WITH ME HERE: he explains he felt like coming to visit the spot where his dog Liza died, on a rainy day just like this one, after running away from their car (side note, I hope they named the dog Liza because Mineri's name is a play on Minelli?? Is it even?? There's a good ochakai question 6 days too late). He reminisces about all the tricks Liza could do, and Mineri imitates them. He shows her a picture of Liza, and surprisingly they're wearing the same dress?! It becomes evident that Mineri is actually the human form spirit of Sora's late pet, granted a few precious moments on earth by Rain Wizard Mappu to talk to her former owner, thank him, and say goodbye… she disappears with Mappu before Sora fully figures it out. HERE'S THE THING: As WTF?? as this entire concept is, Sora's acting was so damn heartbreaking I TEARED UP on the THIRD VIEWING even though I TOTALLY KNEW WHAT TO EXPECT?? I'm GENUINELY ANGRY that she took THIS SKIT and managed to MAKE ME CRY, and now I'm also praying to all the gods that this isn't her last lead, because I NEED to see her in a proper play with a proper partner. Where do I sacrifice the goats?

Next the whole team sings a song from Never Say Goodbye, leading up to Sora coming out for a solo barefoot dance, custom engineered to wound me as gravely as possible. Setohana Mari follows this up with an attempt at If I Were a Bell from Guys & Dolls, with brilliant all-in drunk acting but barely recognizable English (A for effort given the speed of the song though).

AND THEN

Okay. There's a rare special thing that I've now had the… fortune? I guess? of experiencing twice, that I hope you all get to experience someday, not because it's good or fun but just because it's An Experience. Sometimes there are secret little treats hidden in Takarazuka shows just for the foreigners. They're secret because I am pretty sure the directors have no idea what treats they are. And sometimes, through a combination of luck and the kindest friends, you make it to your first viewing with no spoilers, and a song starts playing that you recognize within half a note, and you begin having an experience so separate from every other person in the theater you feel as though you might as well be floating above the audience with all their disapproving gazes drilling into you, wondering what the heck you're doing up there when clearly the place for you is down here. The first time was when I waltzed unassuming into HOT EYES!! in an era when my feelings re: Soragumi were "I guess I have to watch them if I want to see Sora," and in my heart-pounding state of shock brought about by the first however many scenes Eye of the Tiger began to play, and out came involuntarily a VERY noticeable raspberry spit of quickly stifled laughter (before Makaze's everything shut me right the heck up).

The second was when amidst the polite applause following Secchan's Ding Dong Ding, the curtain rose on the remainder of the cast beginning a fiercely literal staging of the entirety of Bohemian Rhapsody in English. There are so many things to unpack:

Mikaze Maira, playing a literal mother, opens the number by emotionally reading a literal letter from her literal son who has literally gone off to war

The others, with Sora in the center, are playing soldiers armed with sizable rifles, portraying the horrors of war via aggressive interpretive dance

Sora's English, while certainly not flawless, was SO PASSABLE, especially when compared to a) history in general and b) specifically Can't Take My Eyes Off of You from 2 years ago, I was FULLY SHOOK

Her dancing and acting in this number were SO FRIGGIN GOOD I could DIE

The performance overall was SO PASSIONATELY ACTED and thus SO DISTRESSING that people in the audience were CRYING from BEING MOVED to the point where later in the run they BEGAN SNIFFLING BEFORE THE NUMBER EVEN STARTED

It forced me for the first time in my life to sit down and hella contemplate the lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody, the conclusion of which was a) yeah that sure was a 500% valid interpretation of the lyrics and b) there is absolutely no way I could ever begin to explain to a Japanese person why in my culture it's a FUNNY SONG

I was EXTRA TICKLED that Kotti, who can't speak above a whisper off stage, was the one who got to run up onto a box and scream SO YOU THINK YOU CAN STONE ME AND SPIT IN MY EYE

Every viewing my body shook so hard from the effort it took to keep myself from making any sort of noise I wouldn't be surprised if everyone in my row could feel the tremors and I am honestly still tired just thinking about it

If this is cut I’m making a GoFundMe for the rights. Everyone start saving now please.

As a palate cleanser, Mineri sings a pop ballad in a gorgeous gown before the proper kuroenbi to Ai, which is a song that has a lot of nostalgic value for me personally, making it a very emotional backdrop to Sora leading an otokoyaku dance with the top star sparkles on her tailcoat and hitting that final pose with a heart-shattering bang. They reprise the two original theme songs for the parade, and that's Hustle Mates.

Additional notes from my particular viewings: I had a lucky aisle seat where Hanaki Maia, who I'm pretty obsessed with, serenaded me, and Mappu gave me a great smile and a little hand squeeze in lieu of a high five. I am completely charmed by Kotti, she's like a Great Dane that grew up and still thinks it's a lap dog—striking otokoyaku on the outside and a sweet shy earnest inside that hasn't quite caught up yet. Senshuuraku should be the day that shows up on Sky Stage eventually, but in the Partial Time Prison scene Homare Seri (playing Rhett Butler) started a really awkward slow clap with the audience in an attempt to ad lib, then had no idea where she wanted to go with it so she just gave SoraLucheni a big hug, and Moeko got flustered, decided that was enough, and cut off everyone’s laughter and applause by stepping in front of the action and saying her next line as loudly as possible.

My raku seat was close range, and after watching Sora’s perfectly calculated facial expressions, and the tiny backlit beads of sweat flying off her brow as she danced her heart out in HER SHOW, I'd sit in lava for her I love her so deeply.

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

One Millimeter

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20514710

Pairings: None

Rating: Gen

Notes: I’ve never posted a fanfic to Tumblr before, so I figured I’d try it. XD This is just 2600 words worth of fluff, hastily written and lightly edited but hopefully fun fluff.

“Yup! Mabel’s got exactly one millimeter on you.”

“Whoop! AL-PHA TWIN! AL-PHA TWIN!”

Dipper folded his arms. “So? That doesn’t mean anything. We’ve always been the same height, I’ll catch up. Besides, no one even uses millimeters.”

~~~

A year later, Dipper and Mabel walked into a movie theater. If that sounds like the setup to some kind of sick joke, it’s because it was.

“I must say dear, I love your sweater. You’re so adorable,” said a little old lady on her way out, stopping to pinch Mabel’s cheeks.

Dipper raised an eyebrow. That did not look comfortable, but at least it wasn’t him. Mabel was all over uncomfortably personal conversations with old ladies, though.

“AAAHHH! Thank you! I knit it myself out of yeti hair!” she squealed, reaching out to pet the old lady’s sweater. “Yours is so fuzzy, is it merino?”

“Yes!” replied the old lady, smiling. “It’s so nice to meet another knitter.” She looked at Dipper, seeming to notice him for the first time. “Does your little brother knit too?”

Time stopped. Metaphorically. But oh, how Dipper wished it were literally so he could get out of this situation right now immediately because Mabel was looking at him and she had better not start this again and-

“PFF-.” Mabel put her hands over her mouth in a failed attempt to stifle her laughter. “He’s- he’s little- PFFHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-”

Clearly, Mabel wasn’t going to be able to form coherent sentences any time soon. Dipper spoke up, hoping against hope that his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “I don’t... knit.”

The little old lady patted his head. “Don’t worry, son, knitting is nothing to be ashamed of. Plenty of men are accomplished knitters. I’m sure your big sister could teach you a thing or two if you asked.”

“I’m not ashamed, it’s just not my thing! My uncle knits, actually. The thing is-”

But the little old lady cut him off before he could explain that he was not, in fact, Mabel’s little brother. “You poor dear, you don’t have to fib. Your face is as red as a tomato." She checked her watch. “It was lovely meeting such sweet youngsters, but I’ve got an appointment to get to. Enjoy your movie!”

And she took hold of her walker and slowly ambled away from the disaster she’d just caused.

Dipper facepalmed.

Mabel wheezed.

“C’mon, our movie’s starting.” Dipper started off, but his sister didn’t follow. “Mabel?”

Mabel was doubled over with laughter.

“Mabel.”

“Okay, okay, I’m just- hold on- BWAHAHAHAHA”

“MABEL.”

“I’m sorry, Dipper, really.” She laughed again.

“Really? I seriously doubt that.”

Mabel’s gasps turned into deep breaths as she tried to calm herself. “Really. I’m- I’m done now.”

“Good. Can we never mention this again?”

“Okayyy, fine.”

The two began heading towards the auditorium their movie was playing in.

“I just don’t get it.” Dipper broke the silence after about three seconds, gesturing wildly. “Why would she assume I’m the little brother? Girls get their biggest growth spurt before guys do, it’s basic science. I’ve done research on this.”

“Research? When? What happened to never mentioning this again?” Mabel snickered.

Dipper glanced at her, then back down at the floor. “Well, maybe I need to vent first. And I looked it up last year because I was curious, no other reason.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Don’t ‘mmhmm’ me. You’re not even that much taller.”

“Only two point zero six inches taller. I can use your head as an armrest.” She attempted to demonstrate, but Dipper batted her arm away.

“No you can’t, at least not without it being super awkward!”

“I know you don’t like it, Dip-dop, but someday you’re going to have to face the grim reality that I am the alpha twin, unless puberty does you some serious favors in the height department. I��m practically Godzilla! BLAAAAAGH!”

“You’re crazy.” 

“Yup!” Mabel grinned back at him. “Seriously though, I’ll stop teasing you now. It’s just so much fun.”

“Yeah, I know.”

~~~

Three years later, the twins were in the middle of their annual summer vacation in Gravity Falls. Mabel was on her stomach, draped over the front counter in the Mystery Shack  gift shop, swinging her legs and scrolling through pictures of Waddles on her phone, and Dipper was chatting with Soos as he helped restock the shelves.

“Really? That’s great, dude!” Soos almost knocked a snow globe off the shelf in his excitement.

“Yep!” Dipper squared his shoulders, drawing himself up to his full height (which still wasn’t terribly impressive). “It was close, but I had a couple growth spurts, and now Mabel and I are finally the same height again.”

Mabel looked up from her phone. “What do I keep telling you? Everything is possible if you believe in yourself! Dipper was short because his bad attitude was dragging him down.”

“That’s... not how that works, Mabel.”

“Sure it is!” She rolled off the end of the counter, landing with a thump on the ground, then picked herself up and walked over to Soos and Dipper. “If it isn’t, then I dare you to explain why Soos is so tall.”

Soos rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “She’s got ya there, Dipper.”

“Anyway, we’re 16, so we should both be done growing now. Looks like we’ll always be the same height.” Dipper put his arm around Mabel’s shoulders.

“Now wait just a minute, dude.” Soos squinted at them thoughtfully.

“What?”

“What is it?” the twins asked, slightly worried.

Soos’s eyes widened. “One of you... is taller.”

“WHAT!? Ooh, is it me, please say it’s me!”

“That can’t be, we just measured!”

“Yup. Definitely taller.” Soos nodded.

“Now you’re just dragging it out!” Mabel shook her finger at him.

Dipper shut one eye and flinched as if Soos was about to smack him upside the head with the answer. “Who is it?”

“It’s... oh man, I forgot, lemme get a measuring tape.”

“GAH, SOOS!”

“C’MON, MAN!”

“Hold on, dudes, I’ll be right back.” Soos hurried across the room and disappeared through the “EMPLOYEES ONLY” door.

The twins waited in tense anticipation. Mabel bounced on the balls of her feet, and Dipper looked around for a pen to chew on, but decided he was better than that. Apparently he wasn’t, because thirty seconds later he found himself chewing on his jacket.

Soos burst back into the room. “GUYS!”

“WHAT!?”

“Oh man, you guys. I’m so sorry. I can’t find a measuring tape.”

“What’s wrong with the one on your belt?” asked Mabel.

Soos patted his belt frantically. His fingers touched the measuring tape, and he took it off. “Oh. Phew. Thought I’d lost ya there,” he told it.

The measuring tape didn’t reply.

Mabel and Dipper moved to stand back to back, and Soos carefully measured them. Then he re-measured just to be sure.

“Well, Mabel, it looks like Dipper’s got exactly one millimeter on you.”

“FINALLY!” Dipper shrieked. He looked at Soos and Mabel, who were on the verge of bursting into laughter. He coughed into his fist. “Um. I mean, okay. Nice.”

“Dippingsauce, that’s great! You finally did it. I’m so proud of my little brother.” Mabel hugged him aggressively.

“Owowow, watch the ribs! Can’t- breathe- SOOS-” The last word came out a bit strangled as Soos hugged both of them from behind.

“Good job, dude! This definitely deserves a group hug. Not like you need a reason for a group hug, hehe.”

Mabel adjusted herself to include Soos in the hug. “You said it.”

~~~

Six years later, Dipper, Mabel, Stan, and Ford sat squished around the tiny table in the cabin of the Stan o’ War II. They were playing poker, and unsurprisingly, Mabel was winning. Dipper was slightly suspicious that Stan was letting her, although there was no way to be sure since Mabel could play a pretty mean game of poker.

“AGH!” Stan threw down his hand on the table. “You’re counting cards. Little cheater.”

“I learned from the best,” Mabel grinned, scooping the chips toward her. “I believe I’m… what, two pounds of leprechaun gold richer than I was earlier tonight?”

Stan humphed and leaned back in his chair, but he was definitely trying to hide a smile. 

“I’m not even sure why I play this with you,” said Dipper. “You and Stan win every time.”

“Remember when you and Grunkle Ford tried to gang up on us?” Mabel giggled.

“Hah!” Stan laughed. “That was really somethin’. You had a whole big convoluted nerd plan, but neither of you can lie to save your life. It was hilarious.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised.” Ford replied. “I’m not proud of it, but lying has saved my life on more occasions than I can count.”

“Maybe if you’re lying to gullible space blobs. You’ve got nothin’ on professional liars like me and Mabel.”

“Come on, Grunkle Stan, I’m not a professional liar,” Mabel scolded him.

“Sorry, sweetie. Shrewd and adaptable.”

Mabel patted him. “That’s right.”

“All right, now that that’s over, who wants to play…” Dipper pulled a box out from under the table, “Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons: Urban Fantasy Edition!”

Ford’s eyes lit up, but Mabel and Stan groaned in unison.

“C’mon, guys, we’ve never played it this way before. In this version, you get to think about how fantasy races would work in a modern cultural setting. The game mechanics are different too. It’s more story based and less rule based. You guys’ll like it.”

“I’ve wanted to try my hand at this one for a while,” Ford said, already getting up to retrieve his dice. “The worldbuilding opportunities for this sort of scenario are fascinating.”

“What, like werewolves with office jobs? Where’s the fun in that?” grumbled Stan. “ ‘Grr, I’ve gotta file my paperwork before the full moon but I can’t ‘cause I rolled a one.’ Sounds dumb.”

Mabel pressed a finger against Stan’s lips and leaned forward. “Back up, Dipper. Less rules, more story? And werewolves in suits? I’m listening.”

“All right, it’s settled.” Dipper was already unpacking the box. “Do you want to use your characters from last time or create new ones?”

“New ones!” Mabel said, already preparing to draw out her character’s design. “I’ve been working on this one for a while. She’s a sparkly vampire named Cornelia who hides her identity from the from the world by being so bubbly and adorable and pink that nobody suspects her because of their preconceived notions and assumptions about what vampires should be like. She’s secretly dark and tortured on the inside because she wants to drink blood but she won’t. Chaotic Good, kicks serious butt.”

“I’m gonna use mine from last time,” said Stan. “He was good.”

Dipper opened up a folder marked “D.M.”, took out a sheet of paper, and handed it to Stan. “Stam the Human Who Punches Things?”

“Yeah.” Stan grinned. “Not gonna lie, I missed the old geezer.”

Ford pulled out his chair and sat back down. “I think I’ll make a new one as well.”

Dipper handed him a character sheet, and for a while, everyone sat in silence, getting everything ready.

Eventually, Stan got bored and looked over Ford’s shoulder at his sheet. “Randall Evans, Ghost- what kinda name is Randall, anyway? We s’posed to call him Randy the whole time?”

“It depends on whether our characters are on a first name basis or not, but even then, just Randall should be fine.”

Stan shook his head. “No one’ll take him seriously unless you give him a good strong name with some weight behind it.”

Ford raised an eyebrow at him. “Like Stam?”

“Exactly!” Stan went back to reading Ford’s sheet. “42 years old, businessman, 6’8”- hang on, why’s he so tall?”

“I thought the tall and lanky design served his spectral nature well,” Ford replied.

“He’s taller than my character, though. Stam is only 6’6”. Can’t you make Reginald or whatever shorter?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Because you’re not taller than me.”

“Stanley, these are characters. None of them are us, exactly, except for yours. And, besides, I am taller than you.”

“What?” Stan stood up. “I’ll take you on right now, old man, back to back. Dipper! Get a yardstick or somethin’.”

Dipper laid down his pen and got up. “Oh man, here we go…”

“Yes! A challenge! Take him on, Grunkle Ford!” Mabel cheered.

Ford stood up as well, and the two men moved to stand back to back in the middle of the cabin.

Mabel eyed them critically. “I hate to say it, Grunkle Stan, but Grunkle Ford does look just a tad taller.”

Dipper came back with a measuring tape. “Mabel, can you hold the end of this to the floor for me?”

Mabel bounced over, and together they measured the older twins.

“Yeah, I think Ford is- hang on, both of you stand up as straight as possible.” Dipper measured again. “That can’t be- Stan, are you standing on your tiptoes?”

“I can confirm that he absolutely is,” came Mabel’s voice from the floor. 

Stan grunted.

“Okay, now if both of you are ready…” Dipper measured one more time. “You’re exactly the same height.”

“What!?” Stan and Ford exclaimed at the same time.

“Yep.” Dipper retracted the measuring tape, and everyone went back to the table. “Stan just slouches.”

“We should get that checked out,” said Ford, “Bad posture can cause spinal issues, but it can also be a symptom of them.”

“My spine is great, thank you very much,” said Stan. “Hey, by the way, which one of you kids is taller?”

Dipper and Mabel looked at each other. “We’re the exact same height,” said Mabel.

“Yeah,” said Dipper. “We checked a couple years ago. Mabel was taller than me for the first year of high school, then it evened out, then I finally got a little bit taller than her. But last time we checked, we were exactly the same height again.”

Stan looked at Ford. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“Thomas Edison is overrated, there are so many greater scientists and inventors throughout history we could be learning about, why does everyone keep coming back to him?”

Stan looked at him harder.

“Yes, of course, Stanley, I’ll hold the other end of the measuring tape for you,” Ford laughed.

“Great!” Stan clapped his hands together.

So everyone got up again, moved to the center of the room, and set up things for yet another measuring session. 

“That’s… darn cataracts, can’t see a thing.” Stan squinted at the tape. “Okay, looks like… I’M TALLER!” Stan shouted.

The twins jumped.

“Ha ha,” Dipper deadpanned.

“Mabel, you’re standing on my hand,” said Ford.

Mabel hopped backwards. “Oops, sorry, Grunkle Ford!”

Ford stood up, shaking out his left hand. “So, Stanley? Who’s taller? They look the same to me.”

Stan put on his best showman voice. “Lady and gentlemen, drumroll please.”

The other three obligingly began thumping on the nearest hard surfaces.

“Da da da DAAAAA- It’s Mabel. Mabel’s taller.”

“Whoa-ho-ho-ho, what? You sure you didn’t measure funny, Grunkle Stan?” Mabel said.

“That doesn’t make sense. By how much?” asked Dipper.

“One millimeter.”

Of course. Of course fate would never truly be on Dipper’s side. He was too old to be embarrassed, or to let it get to his head; they were adults, after all, and a millimeter was so tiny and ultimately insignificant. But even so, he allowed himself a tiny resigned sigh.

Mabel was clearly thinking something similar, at least as far as the “being too old for it to matter” part. She looked like she was pleased, but trying not to show it. “Sorry, bro bro.”

Dipper smiled, holding out his fist. “Looks like you really are the alpha twin.”

“Alpha twin,” Mabel repeated, her face breaking into a huge grin. She gave him a fist bump. “Only by one millimeter, though.”

“Technically,” said Ford, “that only makes her taller than you in Canada.”