#only really desperate or unaware people join her

[madame-mongoose]

Made a character ai of Zeki and she's too nice idk how to make her meaner 😭

Like she talks about how she loves her crew and sees them as family and I'm like SHE DONT GIVE A FUCK BOUT THOSE BITCHES!!! Maybe a few she sees as friends but most of them are hired on she don't give a fuck!!!

[highvern]

Home for the Holidays

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x fem!reader

Genre: romance, smut, angst, exes to lovers, Christmas!AU, fake dating

Warnings: she/her pronouns, Drug use, alcohol, mentions of aging family members, unhealthy family dynamics, mentions of illness (reader is a doctor), cursing, dry-humping/grinding, kissing, oral (f. receiving), masturbation, unprotected sex, angst, poor self-esteem/self-doubt, pining, some threats of bodily harm

Length: ~24k

Note: God this was such a doozy. I started it on December 1st and barely finished it this morning. Based on Happy Place by Emily Henry (if you like romcoms I highly recommend all her books) and most cheesy Christmas movies (Exmas). Did I project my middle child syndrome onto fellow middle child Wooyoung? Maybe! BUT why write if not to explore your own trauma lmao

Like, comment, reblog, enjoy or don’t! Merry Christmas! MWAH!

This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

June 27th

“So I have some news. I know it hasn’t been easy for us going back—”

“I think we should break up.”

“and forth so much but—What?” 

“I don’t think it's working out between us.”

“Oh,” is all you manage to say before your vocal cords seize.

Your mouth falls open, lips attempting to form words that don’t manage to make a sound. Eyes shifting around the room, the sheen of tears thickening as a few beads trail down your cheeks as you stand shakily; managing only a few steps away from the table before a choked sob wiggles free from an iron grip. People are staring as you nearly run out to the door, unaware that several whip around to look at the man left sitting behind you.

Wooyoung doesn’t chase you down. Doesn’t call or text as you walk the twenty blocks to Lisa’s apartment in the thick humidity of the city night; snot and tears trailing down your face.

Wooyoung doesn’t say anything at all as eight years shatter to pieces in a matter of seconds.

December 7th

Wooyoung

…twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight.

Wooyoung staples the finished packets together, ears tickled by jazzy Christmas music leaking from his computer speakers in the corner of his L-shaped desk. Surrounded by colorful brick walls of a midtown elementary school isn’t where most people his age would find themselves on a Friday evening but where else would he go?

His roommates have their partners over, he’d rather avoid the frigid dampness of the park he usually smokes at, and Wooyoung isn’t interested in the crowds clogging anywhere else he’d think to visit. The usual comforting bustle of the city only serves to set him on edge, making him desperate for a true solitude he really craves. Getting ahead on his classroom prep for the remainder of the semester seemed like the perfect, albeit a depressing way, to spend the evening.

The dulcet tones of Dean Martin are joined by an incoming call buzzing his phone across the wooden top of the desk. A familiar picture of his mom and him as a baby flashing across the screen before he answers.

“Hi sweetie,” his mom yells on the other line. Wooyoung can tell she’s driving home from work based on the poor audio quality.

“Hey mom,” he wedges the device between his shoulder and cheek, using his hands to continue organizing the worksheets for Monday; paper warm in his palms from the printer.

“I’m just calling to make sure you and Y/N are still coming for Christmas. I know the hospital is usually crazy this time of year so I thought I’d double check.”

“Actually mom—”

“Bibi keeps talking about wanting everyone home for Christmas but if Y/N can’t make it she’ll understand. She’s always been her favorite.” His mom laughs.

Wooyoung’s grandmother is impolitely frank about her age and never hesitates to use it to her own advantage. How does he tell her that his girlfriend, who she liked more than her own grandsons some days, is no longer his girlfriend? And how he is the only one to be blamed for that.

He might as well start digging his own grave.

“We’ll be there.” Wooyoung blabs before he can stop himself.

“Wonderful! I’m pulling into the driveway so I’ll talk to you later. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

Fortunately, on a cold winter night like tonight, the only other soul in the building is Mr. Rollins, a janitor with headphones permanently attached to his ears. The colorful combination of expletives pouring from Wooyoung’s mouth would make a sailor blush.

Typing in a familiar name to his message bar, Wooyoung realizes he hasn’t changed it in all this time; the string of emojis from the first night he got her number glaring back at him in mockery. A sting of bile blisters the back of Wooyoung’s throat as he steads himself for what he’s about to do. Who he is about to ask for the biggest mercy; one he didn’t deserve in the slightest.

Wooyoung: Can I call you?

Wooyoung inhales before hitting “send,” locking his phone and tossing it down like it’s possessed.

Barely a full minute passes before it vibrates with her response.

Y/N🥰🍯💖: are you okay?

He can’t even type a reply before the buzz buzz buzz on an incoming call tickles against his palm. 

Tapping into the false chipper personality he reserves for strangers and his class, Wooyoung answers with a simple. “Hey!” 

“Hi.” She deadpans.

“Is it a bad time?”

“What do you want, Woo?”

“How have you been?”

“I’m fine. But you aren’t calling to ask me that.”

Wooyoung wants to object but she’s right. “I’m not but I still care.”

“Sure.”

“Okay, so my mom called and asked if you were coming over for Christmas.”

“Why?” Y/N asks after a pregnant pause.

“Because I haven’t told them we broke up.”

A rush of clattering sounds from her end along with a few curse words sounding far away before she continues. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s been six months!”

“I know! But I’ve been busy and there was never a good time and it’s just kinda snowballed.”

“Well, tell her now.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Bibi keeps talking about how she wants everyone how for one last Christmas and with Kyungmin going to colle—”

“Please tell me you’re not suggesting what I think you are.”

“You know I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate.”

“I thought us breaking up meant I didn’t have to deal with your shit anymore.”

“I can tell them your busy and the hospital is keeping you or—”

“No,” Wooyoung can picture the hand scrubbing down her face, fingers massaging her temples the same way she always did when his shenanigans got them in trouble. “I’ll do it.”

Now he’s the one to pause, “Really?”

“Yeah, it’d be nice to see them all one last time.”

“Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I actually need to get back to doing that so–”

“Yeah, I’ll, ugh, talk to you later. Bye.”

“Bye.”

As the line clicks and Wooyoung is left alone in his classroom, the space abruptly feels too big. With each minute ticking by, he convinces himself he hallucinated the entire exchange because there is no possible way his ex-girlfriend agreed to this ill-thought plan. Everything feels too normal for her to extend such undue kindness his way, especially after how he ruined their relationship in a moment of insecurity.

Wooyoung: My flight out is 12/21

Wooyoung: You don’t have to come that early 

Y/N🥰🍯💖: im off starting the 19th

Wooyoung: I’ll pay for your flight

Y/N🥰🍯💖: great

Y/N🥰🍯💖: ill venmo you

Wooyoung: Cool, send me the details

There’s a weight on Wooyoung’s tongue at the new dynamic settling between them. Eight years of dating but now she’s a stranger. The last text messages arranging for their mutual friend Lisa to pick up a box of her stuff from his apartment. 

Six months and he didn’t know if she kept her hair the same way or what new book she was obsessing over in her sparse free time; if her neighbor in Boston’s yappy geriatric dog finally kicked the bucket.

Lovers. Almost fiancées. And now strangers.

December 10th

Wooyoung

Wooyoung wakes up to the early morning bustle of the busy streets just outside his window. His phone clock reads thirty minutes past his normal alarm which means he’s late. And that means his boss is going to tear his ass a new one. 

In a whirl, Wooyoung rushes to the bathroom. He wets his hands with the freezing tap water, patting his face and attempting to style his bed ridden hair. The door shifts to catch his foot as he exits, stubbing his toe and forcing him to hop down the hallway to his room. Wrinkled khakis and a sweater are all Wooyoung manages before he throws on his parka and is out the door. 

He sprints to the subway, just in time to see the doors closing on his train.

“Fuck me!”

“Too young for me buddy,” croaks the homeless man splayed on the bench in the middle of the platform.

Ignoring him, Wooyoug paces further down the station, anger filling him with restless energy. Glancing at his phone, he shoots an email to his principal that he’ll be late due to “train delays.” Thank god for the MTA being a regular piece of shit. 

Finally checking the stream of missed notifications during the night, he uses the lull to answer them.

Mom: Does y/n still like those chips we bought last time? I’m at the store getting a few things

Wooyoung: She said she’s happy with whatever you get!

Not a lie since Y/N would be happy to have snacks of any kind.

SANNIE⛰️: YOU DIDN’T TELL YOUR PARENTS? 

SANNIE⛰️: U R SO FUCKED

At least he can always count on San to state the obvious.

Y/N🥰🍯💖: here’s my ticket 

Wooyoung does a double take when he sees she’s flying out of New York, not Boston. Why isn’t she flying out of Boston? There’s no way it’s cheaper than flying out of Boston and she wouldn’t go through the trouble of getting down here unless she had a good reason.

Wooyoung: Why are you flying out of LGA?

Y/N🥰🍯💖: Because I live here?

A lump of lead hardens in his stomach. She lives here, in New York. She’s been in the city and he didn’t even notice. Questions race forward. How long has she been here? Where is she working? What neighborhood is she in? Why didn’t he know she moved back?

The last question is more his own fault than he cares to admit.

His train arrives without preamble, brakes screeching as it slows to a stop. Wooyoung crowds into the compartment, happy for it to be relatively empty. Finding a spot on the wall, he zones out of the chaos for the next twenty minutes. A group of highschoolers laugh obnoxiously in the corner, snatching one another’s phones as they share god knows what between them. A young mom tries to placate her crying baby, the older man next to her rolling his eyes as he devours his morning paper. When the doors open at his stop, Wooyoung pauses for a second as an elderly woman enters the train. Catching her eye, he offers her his seat; only standing when she’s close enough so no one else tries to take it from her. 

Wooyoung slithers out of the closing doors and bolts out of the station as fast as he can.

Panting and sweating under his black parka, Wooyoung arrives outside the red doors of the elementary school he teaches at. Principal Martinez is tapping his foot at the top of the steps, arms crossed in front of his chest, scowl etched deep on his face.

“This is the third time this month.”

“I know, I’m sorry! But the train got delayed with repairs or something and—”

“Save it. You have a class to get to.”

Breezing past, Wooyoung’s boots clack against the linoleum tile as he careens towards his classroom. The rowdy cacophony of third grade voices echo beyond the doorway, only increasing in volume as he peeks his head in.

A dozen shrill voices scream something along the lines of, “Mr. Jung you’re late!”

“You’re all just early!” Wooyoung goads back, sending a thankful look at the teacher who stepped in to watch them till he arrived.

The room descends into giggles, students finding their places as he settles at his own desk.

“So today, we’re starting with circle time!”

Y/N

“Let me get this straight: your ex asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend and now you’re spending Christmas with his family?”

Sparing a glance from the manilla folder containing notes on your next patient, you see Hongjoong watching you skeptically. The ridiculousness of the situation isn’t lost on you. You’d nearly convinced yourself the entire exchange Friday night was some cruel dream if not for the string of text messages proving it’d been real. Wooyoung’s first real attempt to speak with you post-breakup, and he asks you to pretend he didn’t break your heart six months ago.

“That’s about as straight as it gets.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows furrow, “And you said yes, why?”

“Because…” 

You missed him? Because you still loved him? Because when you saw his message you thought he was finally ready to admit it'd all been a mistake? 

Because Wooyoung always convinced you to go along with whatever he asked?

“I really like his family.”

“Oh, sweet child.” He clicks, leafing through his own case file.

“Look, it’ll be nice to see them one last time and I’d rather spend the holidays with them than cramped in my apartment to avoid the tourists.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason why?”

“Yep.”

“This can’t go wrong at all!”

“Shut up,” you say before dipping into the exam room, shifting your face into an enthusiastic smile. “How are we today, Mrs. Haspin?”

“We’re doing okay. Harper hasn’t been liking the new medicine you prescribed.”

“She hasn’t?” You gasp sarcastically, staring wide eyed at the tiny brunette with braided pigtails sitting on the exam room bed.

“They’re gross!” Harper cries with all the sincerity a four year old can muster, her tiny hands wrinkling the paper as she slaps the bed indignantly.

“Well that’s no good. I’ll make sure to check if they have other flavors.” You type a few notes in her electronic chart as you turn over your shoulder. “Mom, have you noticed a difference?”

“She’s not having as many coughing fits.”

“That is very good.” You curl your stethoscope in your palm, attempting to warm the cool metal. “Can I listen to your lungs, Harper?”

She shakes her head up and down vigorously, the pink and gold beads at the end of her pigtails clacking together.

“Alright, take a deep breath in.” The woosh of air entering her lungs fills the room. “And out. In. And out.”

You prompt her to continue several times, gliding the chestpiece along various parts of her back as you listen intently. A few crackles pop in your ears, mucus coating her airways; only made worse by the dry winter of the city.

“Very good, Harper.” you praise before turning to her mom waiting anxiously in the corner. “With the winter make sure you’re using the humidifier as much as possible but her lungs sound better than last time so I’d like to stay on the meds.” You swivel back to your patient. “I’ll check with the pharmacy if they can do something about the flavor. Okay?”

Harper beams, glad to be heard. Her mother beams for an entirely different reason. Her daughter struggled with respiratory issues since she’d been born and as she aged they’d only gotten worse. Harper was the first patient you took when you started two months ago and in that time you’ve grown fond of her.

“All right, I’ll walk you all to the front. I think we can push out our next visit until six weeks since she’s been doing so well. If anything comes up, please don’t hesitate to call us.”

Handing them off to the receptionist to schedule their next appointment, you return to your office for a quick lunch.

Y/N: Because I live here

Youngie 🖤: since when?

How do you tell him that you’ve lived here since the day he broke up with you? How that night at dinner you were planning to surprise him by moving back to New York and removing the distance that plagued your relationship for three years?

The benefit of no longer being in a relationship means you don’t have to explain anything.

Locking your phone, you scarf down the squashed sandwich you brought from home before rushing to your next patient. 

Wooyoung

Wooyoung: since when?

Wooyoung checked his phone after finishing pick up duty, one of several over the next month as a bargain to keep his job.

She’d ignored him. It wasn’t the first time his messages went hours before being answered. She was a doctor, and before that a med student, and before that pre-med when they’d met at some dive and realized they shared a behavioral psych class. Y/N always maintained a full schedule, only responding to the outside world when the night bled into the early hours of the day.

Wooyoung: Did you know Y/N moved here?

Yeosang: Yes.

Well fuck.

Wooyoung: You didn’t think to tell me?

Yeosang: You broke up.

Yeosang: ?

Even his roommate knew she’d been in the city.

Double fuck.

December 14th

Y/N

Another week passes before Wooyoung reaches out to you again. You’re set to leave in a few days but work requires all the energy you can manage thanks to a volatile respiratory season. 

Youngie 🖤: Our flights are around the same time. Do you wanna carpool?

You spoke with Yeosang frequently enough (once in a blue moon) to know they still lived in the dingy old walk up they could hardly afford. The high rise you rented further up Manhattan would be on his way to the airport but did you want to see Wooyoung sooner than needed?

Misery still festered in your veins since the break up. Eight years you’d dated; through senior year of undergrad, four years of medical school, and just shy of three years of residency. And the asshole couldn’t give you a single reason for your break up. No warning. No fighting. The same bouquet of delicate pink tulips waiting in hand for you as you arrived at the train station for your last visit to the city before relocating permanently. Yeosang texted you that very afternoon about his excitement to have you back as if nothing was wrong.

A beautiful afternoon holed up in his room for a late nap before dinner, apartment silent in the absence of his three roommates who’d usually greet you enthusiastically as you returned to the city for a visit. Wooyoung hadn’t acted any differently than the other times you visited, seemingly unaware of the surprise you planned to unveil at the fancy dinner he planned to congratulate you on finishing your long years of training.

But then he sat down and said the six words that replayed in your mind like a curse.

And that was the last time you heard his voice until Friday night; as if Wooyoung dove off the face of the earth. The only proof of living were the traces of him in his friends’ Instagram stories or faceless photos of him in their posts.

You’d never been one to post much on social media anyway but his shock at your move back to the city fanned a sick sense of satisfaction. As if to say “two can play at that game.” Wooyoung cut you out and you’d done the same. Keeping your move under lock and key despite sharing the same friend group.

Y/N: no thanks

You’re toeing the line of rudeness but what’s Wooyoung going to do? Break up with you again?

December 21st

Wooyoung

Terminal C of LaGuardia Airport four days before Christmas ranks among the top destinations no one in their right mind would want to be. Parents attempting to keep track of hyper children, businessmen scowling down their nose as they scream into their cellphones, adults slamming down overpriced drinks in preparation for the endless questions holidays bring.

“Bringing home anyone special?”

“When are you going to get married?”

“Grandchildren?”

The last is Wooyoung’s grandmother’s new favorite. Myungho faces the brunt of it; married three years and in no rush to add another mouth to feed just yet. When Wooyoung flew home for Bibi’s birthday in April, she decided to turn her inquiry towards him and Y/N. 

How fun it’ll be to answer those questions again with his temporarily not ex-girlfriend.

Security is long and laborious. One agent yells at him for keeping his shoes on, another rolls her eyes when he asks if his laptop needs to come out of his backpack. In front of him, a frail looking elderly woman struggles with placing the hard plastic bin on the rolling conveyor belt. Behind, grumbles of discontent regarding her holding up the line rise in volume as Wooyoung helps her with her things; sending a smile to her thank you.

And because no good deed goes unpunished, Wooyoung gets pulled for an extra search once he passes the large metal detector.

A burly pale skinned man with blue nitrile gloves sorts through his belongings with the gentleness of a bull in a china shop. Wooyoung’s wrecked and dusty backpack passes inspection easily enough but the contents of his carry-on end up spread across the shiny metal table for further examination under the sterile lights. Gifts for his family, some books he’s teaching next semester, and a navy velvet box he hasn’t left the city without in the past year.

That is apparently the source of interest for TSA as the man pops open the lid to scan the marquis cut diamond ring before putting it back in its place.

“Congrats, man.”

“Thanks.” Wooyoung gives a tight smile.

Nodding his head to his colleague, the TSA agent steps away and allows Wooyoung to pack his bags.

He really needs a drink.

Y/N

“I’m sorry ma’am, the flight is overbooked. But there is room on the next flight to Denver!”

“No charge?”

“Not unless you would like to upgrade to business class.”

You have the money and Wooyoung paid for your seat so it’s technically cheaper than it’d usually be. However, Wooyoung would take it personally if he found out you sat in business when he paid for a last minute economy flight on a teachers salary. A few hours of comfort aren’t worth adding to the awkwardness you’ll face over the next week.

 “No, thank you. But if there’s an aisle seat available that’d be great.”

She taps on her keyboard with manicured nails for a moment, the light of the screen reflecting on her face, before speaking with a perfect customer service smile. “Alright, your new flight number is AYX287 and you’ll be flying out of Gate 98.”

“Thank you.” You say, reviewing the boarding pass she printed. Your new gate is on the opposite side of the terminal but you have a little over an hour to make it there.

Rolling your silver carry-on next to you, you weave in and out of the other airport goers heading in the opposite directions. A curse of any crowded space, people forget to walk with a sense of purpose. You dodge a young couple, probably teenagers, standing in the middle of the walkway oblivious to anyone else; only to end up behind an gaggle of older women surrounded by a heavy cloud of perfume and cheap wine. One of their shirts reads “Happily Divorced!” in glittery cursive.

More nimble footwork and multiple sign checks later, you reach the correct wing of the terminal with forty five minutes to spare. Confirming that your gate does in fact exist, you turn back up the walkway to find a drink. Preferably several.

The first time you see Wooyoung in months will require the strongest alcohol you can finally afford now that residency is over and you're making the hefty salary you’d been promised at the start of medical school.

A friendly faced woman, old enough to be your mother, greets you as you take a stool at her bar. 

“Cranberry margarita.”

“Wanna start a tab?”

“Yes, please.” You answer, handing over your credit card.

The first overpriced drink goes down smoothly, a little sweet and perfectly tart. The second and third much the same. Pleasantly buzzed with fifteen minutes till boarding, you cash out and shuffle back to wait by the gate.

And in one of the cramped pleather seats of the waiting area, sits your ex-boyfriend.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung is hallucinating. Two gin and gingers and a THC gummy churning in his stomach make the mirage in front of him look incredibly realistic.

In her usual flying outfit, Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend stands twenty feet away every bit as beautiful as the last time he saw her. Loose gray sweats, the same old hunter green crew neck with the name of his hometown in frayed golden embroidery on the front, sherpa lined short ugg boots, and glasses perched on the end of her nose. The silver carry-on she bought in the airport last time they visited his family at her side.

And a sour look of absolute disgust twisting her lips.

Better he sees her for the first time since their break up now instead of later in front of the audience of his nosy family. In the safety of anonymity, she can kill him multiple times over with her eyes, and Wooyoung can grovel and pander like he usually does.

Or Wooyoung would if she hadn’t taken a seat along the bay of windows at the opposite end of the alcove.

Wonderful.

Y/N actively avoids looking in his general direction for the next fifteen minutes. An impressive feat given he’s directly in front of the help desk and TV screen displaying updates for their flight. But she digs her nose into her phone, tapping furiously to who Wooyoung assumes is her best friend. If he wakes up to Lisa in his apartment one morning with a knife to his throat, there’ll at least be a paper trail of evidence.

The gate agent booms over the loudspeaker, announcing priority boarding and first class to come forward. Wooyoung’s bank account weeps at the idea of flying first class during Christmas. Who flies first class domestic? A true mystery for the ages.

The familiar head of hair, full of murderous thoughts aimed at him, boards with group three. Flashing a polite smile to the gate agent as she struts down the hall without a glance back. 

When Wooyoung is called with the last group, he’s first in line. The airport is a dog eat dog world and his good deeds end where the boarding line begins.

Nearly every seat is filled when Wooyoung shuffles down the cramped aisle, full overhead bins already closed half way down the plane. He doesn’t spot Y/N amongst the faces of passengers preparing for the next five hours, some already knocked out with eye masks and neck pillows.

Seat 27A, a window seat Wooyoung paid an extra $37 for, sits next to a blissfully vacant middle seat. There’s also just enough room for his black suitcase to fit overhead, snug between a gray hard case, and a blue duffle. 

The aisle seat in the row is occupied by a man who looks a little younger than Wooyoung's age, a college hoodie and baseball cap similar to his own. He rises, allowing Wooyoung to shuffle by and plop into his chair. Stuffing his backpack under the seat in front, Wooyoung shoots a few last minute texts. One to his family group chat, letting them know the flight is about to take off; resending the flight number for his dad to anxiously track. Another to his roommate group chat, reminding them to cover the drains before they leave town. And a final one to San, begging for thoughts and prayers.

He barely hits send when the seat next to him jostles with the weight of a body. Turning, Wooyoung spots the man in the aisle seat a few inches from himself. On the other side, his ex-girlfriend.

Great.

Y/N

Wooyoung’s familiar mop of dark hair remains unseen through each new rush of passengers, the plane slowly filling up more and more. You dread to think he got stuck the same way you did hours ago, forced on a later flight than intended. If that was the case, would you be stuck at the airport waiting for him? Given his parents had to drive two hours to pick you both up, the answer is probably yes. And two hours unsupervised with Wooyoung’s mom would ruin the entire plan.

Nature calls you to the cramped bathroom at the back of the aircraft as passengers at the front continue trickling in. Hopefully Wooyoung is sitting far away from you when you return to your seat.

Stupid motherfucker. You think, rattling the jammed door of the airplane stall in an attempt to force it open. Just as you're about to kick the door down, a flight attendant shoves it aside, flashing a tight smile of displeasure.

Shuffling up back to your seat, you awkwardly wait behind struggling passengers putting away their belongings in the sparse overhead space. Thank the powers that be, your new ticket came with better boarding.

Finally catching up to the familiar faces of the rows around your seat, you turn to find two men in your row. One in your seat, and the other your ex boyfriend.

You stop dead in your tracks, with a loud, “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Sorry!” The man who is not your ex-boyfriend apologizes.

“No! Not you, sorry!”

Wooyoung just stares blankly. If habit and history were to repeat itself, Wooyoung carefully timed an edible before stepping through security. Given his propensity for being obnoxiously early to the airport, he should be high as a kite.

And now you’re stuck next to him drunk as a skunk.

Great.

Taking the now vacant aisle seat, you attempt to ignore Wooyoung once again; plugging in your headphones and pulling out a book you’ve been trying to get through for months. Lisa’s recommendation of smutty fantasy romance with hot immortal faeries. You didn’t see the appeal but at her insistence, you gave it a chance.

“Hey,” calls a voice to your left. 

Nope, not doing this. You think, forcing yourself to read the opening paragraph again but registering none of the words..

“Y/N,” he tries again.

In your periphery, you can see Wooyoung folding over at the waist to look around the man sandwiched between you. 

“What?” You snap, ripping out your headphones.

“How’ve you been?”

Rolling your eyes with a groan, you sink back into your chair, headphones replaced and book in the pocket in front of you. It’s going to be a long flight.

Murphy’s law states that anything that can go wrong will and your flight is no exception. The packed jet is stuck taxing for almost an hour, courtesy of the trademark fog and rain of New York in the winter. You can feel the heat of Wooyoung’s gaze burn the side of your face, cheeks heating under his scrutiny. But the full scale meltdown threatening to unleash if you entertain him has no place in the sanctity of a last minute holiday flight of people just trying to make it to their next destination.

He doesn’t stop when the plane finally lurches forward, witnessing you brace for the worst part of flying; take off.

The loud rattles and pitch of jet engines skyrocket your blood pressure, flooding your mouth with saliva as a threat of vomiting everywhere; a sickening cold sweat pooling at your back. All you can do is close your eyes, and take deep calming breaths your guided meditation apps recommend. Running through the facts keeps you from descending into full panic. Airplanes are notoriously safe. The odds of dying in a plane crash are one in eleven million. You’re more likely to die in a car crash or from something one of your patient’s brings into the hospital.

But the brief suspension in time and space as you rise through the atmosphere unsettles you to your core. 

The panic steeping into your veins is temporary, eager to vanish the second you reach cruising altitude. It disappears like a late winter snow under early spring sunlight, leaving only trace evidence it ever existed in the first place. But it’ll be back with a vengeance under the screaming brakes and the sounds of wheels hitting pavement as you land.

The seatbelt sign chimes off, and the breath you’d failed to release follows the fading light that illuminated it. 

Wooyoung tries to talk to you another two times before giving up. The final instance is a plea for the bathroom, which you graciously grant; thrilling in the relief you feel at his absence.

The poor guy between you two looks worse for wear, having offered to trade seats with either of you so you didn’t have to talk across him. You apologize once Wooyoung is out of earshot, excusing the strange behavior with a white lie that he's just a friend from college you didn’t get along with and hadn’t seen in a while. The stranger's name is Jay, and he laughs at the irony.

“That’s crazy that you two ended up on the same flight. Are you from Denver?”

“Oh, no. Just visiting some family in Lavensville. What about you?”

“No way! My mom is from Lanesville.”

“Small world,” you laugh. “So what took you to the city?”

“I’m in grad school at Columbia. Getting my MBA.” 

“Excuse me.” Wooyoung arrives over your shoulder.

When you rise, you notice his face is tense as he passes to return to his seat. He pretends to sleep the rest of the flight as you chat with the man next to you. 

Six laborious hours pass before you land in Denver. Exiting the plane, you leave Wooyoung behind in favor of waiting by the restrooms on the way to arrivals. You tap your foot impatiently as he stumbles over, clearly exhausted by the late arrival of your flight and the idea of another two hours in his mom’s cramped sedan.

Shuffling next to one another in somber silence, you wait for Wooyoung to speak first. He dragged you into this, and it’s his job to make it work.

“How’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“How’s work?”

“Fine.”

“Okay. Look.” He turns, stepping directly into your path and nearly toppling over when you bounce off his chest. “I’m sorry for all of this but you agreed to come so can we please at least act cordial?”

Unfortunately, Wooyoung is right. He might have put his foot in his mouth, but you didn’t take the chance to bail. He’s only fractionally more guilty than you.

“Fine.” You sigh.

He pins you with a look, eyebrows arched as if asking “are you sure?”

Shuffling around him, you begin your journey to baggage claim once again, Wooyoung hot on your heels.

“I’m working at a hospital uptown, I live in Yorkville, and I still prefer the buses to the train.”

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” Wooyoung nods. “I’m at the same school, in the same apartment, and still living with San and Yeosang. But Mingi moved to Williamsburg with his girlfriend.”

You try to smother the snarkiness of your voice but a sarcastic “I know.” slips free.

Even if you weren’t as close with the boys due to the break up, they’d been your friends as much as his; especially Mingi’s girlfriend, who’d you introduced him to. Lia invited you to their housewarming party when they finally settled in but you missed it due to work, and the nerves of seeing Wooyoung so soon after such a fresh break up. 

The conveyor belt of remaining unclaimed luggage spins like the saddest merry-go-round in existence. Wooyoung jumps forward to snatch your suitcase before you can react, rolling it your direction before diving back in for his own. Once out of the way, he calls his mom to confirm she’s pulling around to pick you two up. 

The silver sedan whips to the curve, Wooyoung’s mom beaming from the driver’s seat.

“My babies!” She cries through the rolled down window.

Mrs. Jung always gave you the enthusiasm your own mother couldn’t feign. Smiling at her before circling the trunk where Wooyoung packs away your bags, you snatch his hand before he can throw it closed.

“Should we tell them I still live in Boston?”

As if you’ve just spoken another language, Wooyoung simply blinks at you.

“How are we gonna explain separate apartments? It makes no sense.”

“Oh,” he gasps, as if the thought didn’t occur to him. “Ugh, yeah good idea.”

The security guard monitoring the pick up area begins striding towards the car, inhaling to yell a warning. Throwing your remaining luggage inside the trunk roughly, you both sprint to enter the vehicle. Wooyoung plants himself in the passenger seat, squeezing his mom in a tight hug as you buckle in the middle seat. Untangling from her needy son, Mrs. Jung peels out and joins the line of cars attempting to merge on the interstate. 

Reclining the seat back, Wooyoung knocks out immediately, leaving you to fend for yourself.

“How’s Boston, dear?” She chimes, voice light and bouncy despite the late hour.

You provide your stock answer for everytime someone asks over the past three years.

“Cold, wet. Lots of sick babies.”

“At least they’re consistent!”

You try to swallow the instinct to comb through Wooyoung’s hair as he naps. The first thing you learned about him in the early phase of your relationship was that Wooyoung needed some kind of physical contact at all times or he’d die. At least, he thought so. It’d been annoying at first; the constant hand holding, suffocating hugs that left your arms useless as you tried to study, even the overabundance of cartoonish kisses anywhere his lips could reach. But over eight years, you grew to appreciate his special way of showing affection. When words failed the man who always had something to say, he relied on touch to convey the things he couldn’t verbalize.

Even if you say all the right things and act like nothing's wrong, anyone who has ever been associated with Wooyoung will know something is up if he isn’t hanging off you like a koala. So if you’re going to pretend the last six months hadn’t happened then you have no reason not to treat him the way you always had.

Your nails snag on a few invisible tangles in his shaggy hair that spills across the cloth seat. It’s longer than when you last saw him in the summer, top half pulled back in an elastic. Continuing to provide updates, you gently brush the bangs hanging in his face. Wooyoung whines sleepily when you pause, causing his mom to laugh.

“Nice to know the city hasn’t changed him.”

Quick to appease, you start again before responding. “Eh, I don’t know about that. Have you seen some of his shoes?”

“Still?” She gasps.

“Unfortunately, I think it’s terminal.”

Mrs. Jung’s cackly laugh is a perfect doppelganger of her son’s. Shrill and mischievous, compelling you to laugh along in pure glee even if you don’t find shared humor; bewitched by the pure joy.

Once the initial rush of reunion wanes, she insists you doze along with her son. The gentle caress of warm air from the vents, paired with the smooth carols from the radio, lulls you down into a shallow rest.

Wooyoung

As his mom rolls to a stop in their driveway, the gentle glow of the car's cabin lights draw Wooyoung awake. Eyes only a quarter open, he stretches in the reclined seat with an obnoxious yawn, hands brushing the firm body of Y/N dozing behind him. She shrugs his hand off her thigh, burrowing back down into the collar of her sweater.

“Come on, sleepy heads. We’re home.” His mom announces as she opens her door.

Home for Wooyoung is a cream two story, five bedroom, three bathroom, Williamsburg Revival style home with royal blue shutters. His dad added the two car garage himself, meticulously matching the exterior to the existing home, blending old and new seamlessly under the watchful eye of his mom. The now gray and dead garden that usually bloomed wildly below the first floor windows was his grandmother’s contribution when she moved in before Wooyoung started highschool.

When his parents were two college students at the obscure liberal arts college Lavensville was built around, his mom had been obsessed with the very house Wooyoung grew up in. According to his dad, Wooyoung’s mom talked more about the house than anything else; a true historic preservationist to her core.

It was an odd way to ask someone to marry you, but his dad always said “Some women wanted a ring. Your mom wanted this house.”

His dad surprised her with the ring after she stopped crying about the house.

Golden string lights drip from the corners of the roof, casting the exterior in a buttery soft haze. Each window sporting a wreath with a thick red velvet ribbon. A heavy layer of snow coating the ground like powdered sugar makes the entire scene like something out of a snowglobe. 

Another yawn before braving the inevitable blast of chilly air, Wooyoung spots Y/N in the rearview mirror; features curled in a sleepy scowl, eyes squinted against the sudden light.

Wooyoung joins his mom at the back of the car, crowding her away from the truck as she insists on helping them carry everything inside. She manages to snag his backpack and Y/N’s carryon before he can shoo her towards the path to the front door where his dad is jamming on an old pair of sneakers to come help.

“We got it!” Y/N calls across the icy lawn, bidding the older man to stay inside as she struggles with her suitcase.

“I can see that.” His dad laughs, jogging down the salted sidewalk curving along the front of the house to reach them.

His dad lifts her larger suitcase out of the truck with ease, leaving Wooyoung to roll his own inside while Y/N balances her tote bag and his carryon. The wheels grate against the uneven brick sidewalk as everyone rushes to return to the heated interior of the house.

It’s well past midnight as they climb the staircase in the foyer to the second floor. Wooyoung’s room is just as he left it the last time he visited in the spring. The headboard of the tiny twin bed resting against the wall just under the window looking out to the front yard, posters from his childhood still tacked up crookedly. 

Wooyoung tries very hard not to think about the last time they shared the quilt covered bed of his childhood room. How the last trip here had been the last time Y/N slept in his arms, the last time he laid her bare beneath him. Six months and the memories felt as real as they had when it happened.

Sharing the tiny mattress could only mean trouble for the delicate truce Wooyoung had made with her in the airport.

“I can sleep on the floor.” He offers, unzipping his suitcase for clean clothes to sleep in.

Digging in her own suitcase, Y/N scoffs at the idea. “Don’t be stupid, what if Bibi comes in?”

“She’s gotten better about knocking!”

“Yeah, after she saw us having sex!”

Not like that’s gonna happen again.

“We can share the bed, it’s too cold up here to sleep on the floor.” Y/N says as she grabs her toiletry bag and shuffles to his door. “You’re a diva when you don’t get good sleep.”

“I’m not a diva” Wooyoung whines after her, rebuttal bouncing off the piece of wood separating them. 

When Y/N returns from the bathroom, Wooyoung takes his turn to brush his teeth and wash his face. It’s just for a few days, he reminds himself. She leaves the day after Christmas and after he returns to the city he can tell his family they decided to part ways.

Until then, Wooyoung gathers all the patience he typically reserves for the army of eight year olds he deals with every day in an effort to not descend into insanity.

He finds her balancing on the edge of the narrow mattress, a sliver of space behind her for him to sink into. Neither says anything as the minutes tick by, both refusing to fall asleep despite the fatigue swirling over them attempting to find root. Back to back, Wooyoung stares at the wall as he tries not to listen to the gentle whoosh of Y/N breath.

December 22nd

Y/N

Shuffling into the cold kitchen, you barely crack your eyes open as you beeline for the coffee pot resting on the counter. Wooyoung’s mom greets you from the dining table, eyes scanning her newspaper as you reply with a mumble “morning.”

One would think years of twenty-four hour shifts and early mornings would make waking up easier but you’d sleep all day if given the chance; however, Wooyoung suffocating you like an octopus forced you from the heated sanctuary under the covers and downstairs. Already it was too easy to pretend you were still together. Waking up tangled in him, his face squashed against your sweater clad chest as he snored, blissfully unaware of the budding panic attack you’d calmed with a freezing shower full of choked tears.

Planting your rear in a dark oak dining chair around the table, the jolt of caffeine and sugar lulls your senses awake as you scroll your phone. 

You send a text to your little brother, confirming your parents had made it to their cruise safely while your flight crossed the country. Two weeks in the Caribbean, all expenses paid, sounded a lot better than a week in rural Colorado with your ex-boyfriend. Thankfully, there’s no cell service in the middle of the ocean; so you don’t need to explain to your mother why you were spending Christmas with Wooyoung, who she truly was never fond of to begin with.

Sometime after bed, Lisa sent a string of vaguely threatening emojis and a picture of her yorkie with the Christmas sweater you bought as an early gift. Assuring her Wooyoung had been on his best behavior so far, you switched over to skim your clogged work email.

“Do you want some breakfast, sweetie?” 

“This is fine.” You say, raising your mug.

“How can you be a doctor and try to tell me coffee is a healthy breakfast?”

“I have horrible news if you think doctors have time to do any of the things we tell people they should.”

“Well it’s a good thing you’re here then because you have plenty of time now.”

Wooyoung

Wooyoung hates waking up alone. It feels inexplicably wrong. Especially after sharing an apartment with Y/N for those four years she was in medical school. There’d been plenty of road bumps but spending every night curled up under the comforter with the woman he loved made it all fade to black. He never slept as good as those years.

Except this morning, he wakes up to Y/N’s fingers brushing his hair like she always did when they’d been together, and for a second Wooyoung thinks the entire breakup must’ve been a horrible dream. Wooyoung hadn’t moved a muscle lest the passes of her short nails sending goosebumps down his spine stopped. Eventually, the lazy drags lulled him back into the land of sleep as her heart sang his favorite lullaby.

The second time Wooyoung woke up, she’d been long gone and he felt the familiar emptiness he thought he’d forgotten after all these months apart.

Trudging down the stairs with loud footsteps, Wooyoung spots his mom in the kitchen, mouth spread wide over laughter as Y/N sits at the counter, cradling a mug of steaming coffee. If Wooyoung had to bet, the ceramic mug probably contained more sugar and milk than anything.

“Morning,” he grumbles, forehead resting against the cool marble of the island as he continues to doze in front of the audience.

His mom pats his back as she passes to reach the fridge, “Go sit down, Woo. You're in my way!”

“Everyone is so mean to me,” he pouts, but rounds the counter to sit next to Y/N nonetheless, resting his cheek on her shoulder, feeling her startle at the contact. 

Wooyoung hides a satisfied smirk in her sweater when a hand starts scratching his back under his hoodie. He can almost forget their lying to everyone in the gentle passes of her cold fingers chilling against his hot skin.

 “Your brother is getting in this afternoon so we thought of letting everyone relax until this evening and then having a game night.” His mom calls over her shoulder, busy with the pan heating in the flames of the stove.

“Where’s Kyungmin?”

“He went with Bibi to volunteer at the church this morning.”

“Sucker,” Y/N mumbles for Wooyoung’s ears only, sending him into giggles.

Wooyoung’s grandmother has a particular way of guilting everyone in his family to do exactly what she wants. It’s why he’s sharing his childhood bed with his ex-girlfriend, why his dad keeps the house unbearably warm all year round, and why his little brother is no doubt undergoing military grade interrogation first thing in the morning.

Going to church with Bibi was less about being closer to God and more about being paraded in front of her old lady friends with single granddaughters. Wooyoung had been a victim until he met Y/N, each summer at home more exhausting than the last with not so subtle reminders Ms. So-and-so's granddaughter was very pretty and very available. But the second Wooyoung sent a picture to his mom of the girl he had not so casually started dating fall semester of senior year, his grandmother ceased all effort to set him up. And after she met Y/N at graduation, Wooyoung beamed with the knowledge his entire family not only approved but liked his girlfriend. 

Leaving poor Kyungmin to bare the brunt of Bibi’s well-meaning torture almost made Wooyoung feel guilty. Operative word being almost. Because Wooyoung had survived it, their older brother had survived it, and now it was Kyungmin’s turn to endure the special brand of Jung family meddling.

And the second his family finds out he's technically single, Wooyoung knows it’s only a matter of time before Bibi smothers him in his sleep for breaking up with the girl she considers family. And after, when she resurrects him from the dead, Wooyoung will be thrown to Bibi’s friends like a sacrificial lamb to starving wolves.

Stealing a sip of Y/N’s overly sweet coffee can’t clear his mouth of the sour taste.

“Wooyoung, you need to make up the guest bed for your brother.” His mom says, dropping a plate of eggs and toast on the counter for him and Y/N to share.

“What about her?” Wooyoung asks, lips stretching as he stuffs his face.

“She’s a guest!”

Washing down a harsh swallow with another sip of coffee, Wooyoung mutters a “hardly,” under his breath.

“Get your own!” Y/N snaps, shoving the mug out of his reach.

Wooyoung responds with a high pitched whine, huffing similar to a toddler rather than a man who's almost thirty. “Why are you both being so mean to me? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Rising to pour his own mug of caffeinated gold, his mom quickly claims the empty chair before she bats Wooyoung away. Claiming something about “girl time” as an excuse to get him out of the kitchen before he can truly annoy them to his fullest potential.

Y/N

When the afternoon rolls around, Bibi greets you with a fierce hug and a grandmotherly pinch to your cheek, smiling up at you as she asks for any and every update since she last saw you in April for her birthday.

Luckily, Kyungmin unconsciously rescues you as he enters the house, boxes piled high in his arms of goodies from the other ladies at church trying to court him on their granddaughter’s behalf. Rushing to his aid, you give him a gentle side hug as you walk with him to the kitchen.

“So…” you start, eyeing the stacks of cookies crowding the counter. “How was church?”

A pained groan answers you, Kyungmin dropping his head to the marble counter with a thud. 

You can’t contain your snicker, snagging one of the deformed gingerbread men to dunk in your fresh cup of coffee.

“Only a few more months,” Kyungmin mutters under his breath, the reprieve of college clearly tethering him to sanity.

Wooyoung told you all about Bibi’s ways when you started dating, thankful to no longer entertain doting mothers and grandmothers interested in him only because he was single and knew basic manners unlike many of the men lurking around Lavensville. Poor Kyungmin didn’t stand a chance if Wooyoung hadn’t managed to charm his way out until he got a girlfriend Bibi approved of.

“At least we get snacks out of it!” You clap, continuing to sort his haul as Kyungmin hides in his arms.

A tan hand sneaks over your shoulder to steal the decapitated cookie still in your grip, turning to see Wooyoung nibbling on arm as he observes the collection of cookies, fruit, and other treats.

“Come on!” You stomp your foot like a toddler.

“Tastes better when it’s stolen.” Wooyoung winks, forcing you and his brother to dry heave in unison. Your reaction isn't genuine, only an effort to hide the squeeze in your chest at how easily he can fall back into old habits after months of radio silence.

Wooyoung’s mom breezes into the kitchen, unbothered by your bickering as she types out a text message.

“Myungho and Mia land in an hour. Your dad is already on the way to pick them up.” She rattles off, more to herself than anyone else. “Kyungmin, you need to tidy all of this up. Wooyoung you already put clean sheets on the guest bed? Great. Y/N, dear, would you mind helping with dinner later?”

“Of course.”

—

Dinner consists of chili you didn’t assist with other than pulling out extra toppings from the fridge for, and everyone chattering around the table. Myungho is sharing some story about his and Mia’s neighbor who refused to close their blinds, everyone laughing at Mia’s grimace when she recalled the horrors of the “tighty-whities” incident. Each time you stay with the Jung’s you're shocked how well they get along, everyone slotting together perfectly like some cheesy sitcom family.

It’s not that your family didn’t love each other, but there was little bonding you together other than shared blood and memories. Your mom clearly favored your brother while your dad tried to make up for the snub by prioritizing you. Growing up with the invisible competition left bitter resentment to this day. At least now, after years of therapy and freedom from the suffocating expectations of your childhood home, you and your brother shared a mutual understanding that it was your parents fault for the animosity between you. Nothing could the damage already deeply ingrained, but you’d become a more united front during family affairs. 

That’d been the first time you and Wooyoung fought in your tentative relationship. He hadn’t seemed to understand how you could talk about your brother with such vitrole, confused why you weren’t more excited to see him after living in the city permanently since sophomore year. Not that you’d explained your family dynamic prior to calling him in a full blown meltdown in Washington Square Park at midnight. But Wooyoung listened. And when you brought up how perfect his family seemed, he quickly corrected your assumption.

Wooyoung knew his parents loved him and his brothers equally. But they were helping him pay thousands of dollars in tuition out of state for him to be a teacher while his older brother made six figures fresh out of college as an engineer. Even if they were happy for him, Wooyoung struggled with the internal conflict of idolizing his brother and feeling like he’d never measure up.

It’d been the first time Wooyoung cried in front of you.

The tense conversation and awkward small talk of your childhood home didn’t seem to have space here at the Jungs, nothing but laughter and warmth filling each nook and cranny. Even the awkwardness of sitting next to your ex-boyfriend, pretending he was still your partner, seemed to be stifled with the company.

“So, Y/N, when are you planning to move back to New York? You finished residency, right?” Mia asks over her glass of wine, eyes bright.

“Ugh,” you stutter, unprepared for such directness.

“Or maybe you’re thinking of moving to Boston?” She eyes Wooyoung.

“We’re, uh,” Wooyoung pipes up, frantically looking at you.

“I’m looking at jobs in the city but nothings come up yet.” 

“That sucks.” Myungho chimes, working to help their father clear the table for games.

Rather than answering, you take a long draw of your drink before rising to hide in the bathroom.

In the silence of the small half bath under the stairs, you attempt to control your stuttering breath. A few splashes of cool water on your face help shock your system but it does nothing to stop the  It’d taken years to perfect the stone-faced facade you presented to families when the outcome was less than favorable. 

A light tap at the door startles you from the nose dive your conscious has taken.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” You call, scrubbing your hands in the sink.

“It’s me,” Wooyoung chirps on the other side of the wood.

Opening the door, Wooyoung leans his shoulder against the jamb, eying you warily. Pulling him into the cramped space, you press the door closed as you lean against.

“I can’t do this, Woo. I can’t lie to them.”

 “Don’t think of it as lying! Just pretend you're back in that drama class in college!”

“Oh, you mean the class I almost failed because I couldn’t act?” You whisper harshly.

“Just let me take the lead okay? All you have to do is be normal.”

Another knock on the door startles you both. When you got so close to Wooyoung, you have no idea, but there are only a scant few inches between you and you can smell the peppermint schnapps on his breath.

“Wooyoung, Y/N. Is everything okay?”

Twisting around your stiff body, Wooyoung nudges you out of the way as he twists the handle and pulls the door inward.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung answers, opening the door to a concerned Bibi. “She wasn’t feeling well.”

Bibi brushes past him, the cool back of her wrinkled hand pressing against your forehead. “Are you okay, dear?”

“I’m fine, just got a little light headed.”

One arm curls around yours, the other gently patting your back as Bibi guides you back towards the kitchen with Wooyoung trailing behind.

“You know, when I was pregnant with Wooyoung’s father I got lightheaded all the time.”

“Oh?” 

Bibi’s implication isn’t lost on you, or Wooyoung for that matter when you hear him curse as he trips behind you.

“Almost everyday I’d have to drink a gallon of ginger tea just to get out of bed.” She guides you into a seat before turning. “I’ll make you cup while the boys set everything up, okay?”

“That’s really not neccess–”

But Bibi is already filling the kettle and rummaging in the cabinets for tea bags as if you didn’t speak at all.

Wooyoung

Cursing his grandmother for making an already tense situation worse, Wooyoung shakes his head as she flutters around the kitchen. Perhaps he should be relieved Bibi moved away from asking when they were getting married and fast forwarding straight to asking for grandchildren. At least Wooyoung hadn’t been as close to being the dad as he was as being a husband. Kids were completely hypothetical; but marriage had almost been a reality.

Kyungmin is already setting up the Scrabble board and dishing out letters. Eight people was far too many so like every year they divide into pairs. Mom and Dad, Myungho and Mia, Kyungmin and Bibi, and him and Y/N.

The board begins to crowd with letters. Bibi and Kyungmin struggle to play anything worth more than fifteen points while his parents brush off challenge after challenge as they fill the board with words like “Paczki” and “Rudistid.”

“Quips, baby! Do you know how hard it is to get rid of a Q?” Mia asks everyone, high fiving Myungho next to her. 

Wooyoung exchanges a conspiratory smile with Y/N before he ruins their celebration. “I know! And when you have a U and an I and every other letter I need for QUILTING on a double word score. Plus bingo for all the tiles we don’t have…Boom 96 points.”

Arms thrown around each other's shoulders, he bounces up and down with Y/N in victory. Their cheeks squish together, matching bright tipsy grins pulled across their lips. Almost like everything is normal.

“No fair! You’re an English teacher!” Kyungmin protests, nostrils flared.

“Yeah to third graders, Minnie. You know just as many words as they do, I promise.”

Y/N doesn’t move from his hold except to take another swig of the tea his grandmother made her. Wooyoung tries not to think about what it means; having an arm curled around the back of her chair while she settles into the crook of his chest, watching his family over the top of her head, relaxing firm pressure of her body against his own. Taking the tentative peace for granted, Wooyoung greedily overindulges in the illusion of normalcy.

December 23rd

Y/N

In the cool toned light of the snowy dawn, you wake in Wooyoung’s arms once again. This time you're both on your sides, Wooyoung pressed firmly behind you as he snores in your ear. A familiar lump pokes against your rear, scorching your skin through the layers of clothes that serepate you.

Wiggling in his grip, you're ashamed of the quiet moan fleeing your lips as Wooyoung flexes his arms to hold you tighter, his hips rolling against you harshly to pin you to him.

Blame it on the months without feeling another person’s touch, or the liminal space that exists when the world is asleep and void of any real consequences, but a hollowness stings your core and dampens your panties.

Years of dating meant years of exploring one another’s bodies, discovering every spot that drove the other mad and perfecting the balance of teasing and satisfaction. You still remember the first night in your shared apartment years ago; Wooyoung blindfolded and tied to the bed, putty under your fingers as you rode him until your eyes felt permanently crossed and your legs numb. And just when you thought the night was over, sated with his cum leaking onto the sheets, Wooyoung knotted the silk scarf around your own wrist and “cleaned up” the mess between your thighs until you actually blacked out.

The very memory has you arching backwards, clenching around nothing but disappointing emptiness.

It’s wrong. So so so wrong. To fantasize about your ex-boyfriend while he’s asleep next to you, none the wiser to your stuttered breath and pounding heart.

But the way his hand on your stomach fists the fabric of your shirt, pulling you into him again, beckons you closer to the edge of temptation. Wooyoung told you to act natural. What’s more natural than enjoying some half asleep heavy petting? You’re already pretending to date him, why not reap some of the old benefits you’d missed in your time apart?

Just as you turn in Wooyoung’s arms, set on waking him with an offer even he can’t refuse, he yawns awake. Arms stretching high, he pushes you from the toasty covers and onto the floor with a bang!

“Jesus Christ!” You groan, jolting pain in your elbow shocking your system as it catches the edge of the bed frame.

Wooyoung’s head pops over the side of the mattress, “Why’re you down there?”

Scoffing, the back of your head thuds against the floor; eyes sinking shut as you fight the urge to murder him. Three more days and you’ll never have to deal with the ridiculousness that follows Wooyoung like a shadow. 

You hear, rather than see, Wooyoung exit into the hallway. Stretching your lungs around another deep breath, you follow behind him. Passing the bathroom door as you pad down stairs, you're greeted with an empty kitchen. The stove clock reads just past nine so more bodies should trickle in soon, called by the coffee you’ve begun brewing. Sending a silent prayer to the universe, you prepare for quality time with Mrs. Jung and Mia. Another day of lying to the people who treat you better than your own family. 

Wonderful.

Wooyoung

Like a teenager with his first wet dream, Wooyoung hides in the sanctuary of the bathroom.Thankfully, his brothers aren’t prone to waking before noon and he stakes his claim by locking the door and entering the steam.

Maybe dry humping his ex-girlfriend while half asleep was a bad idea but Wooyoung knows she pushed back into him with a purpose. He’d heard the whimper she tried to silence, felt her press her legs together the way she did when she was wet and needed his help.

Wooyoung hadn’t meant to launch her to the floor but overdue break up sex with the rest of the house due to wake up any minute couldn’t be a good idea. And with three more days of their charade Wooyoung needed less complications, not more.

But the knowledge of how wrong he should feel doesn’t stop the memories of them together from placating his mind as he palms his aching cock. Months of abstinence fail to dissolve Wooyoung’s photorealistic memories of his ex-girlfriend in compromising positions; bent in half to take his cock, staring down her nose as she sits in his lap. And his personal favorite, Y/N on her knees, eyes watering as her swollen lips stretch around his length, the flared head nudging the back of her throat.

The swiftnesses of his orgasm is a fatal blow against his fragile ego. Biting the meat of his fist, Wooyoung watches his cum sink down the drain. Unfortunately, the confusion pulsing through him doesn’t follow.

—

As Wooyoung descends to the living room, he spots his dad and his brothers watching a documentary on the Discovery channel. Sinking into the worn leather of their ancient couch, he cracks open one of the books he brought from home. Brave New World wasn’t light reading, but he’d been meaning to give it a try since Yeosang recommended it to him and what better way to spend his free time? 

Soon enough, his dad snores from his spot in the recliner, chin tipped back against the headrest. Kyungmin remains entranced by the colorful birds dancing across the screen while his other brother no doubt taps away at work emails cluttering his phone despite the holidays. It’s the kind of peace and content Wooyoung loved about his family. Co-existing without needing to interact, enjoying each other's presence while living their own lives.

Y/N

The acrid sting of acetone and nail polish burn your nose under the harsh white lights of the nail salon. Mia is happily chattering away, blasting through any stilled pauses or awkward silences. Bibi and Mrs. Jung sit at the counter getting their nails painted by the attendants in calm silence.

You try not to kick the young woman scrub your foot as she brushes against your ticklish nerves, squirming in your seat as she gives a tight lipped smile at your discomfort. For a week off for Christmas you cashed in every favor, picked up every single on call asked of you, nearly breaking under the demand to stretch yourself so thin as the new doctor in your department. The horrific results of hours on your feet were being ground down and clipped before you. 

Relaxing was… difficult for you. Or other peoples’ definition of relaxation was. To you, the perfect day off was running around town, hitting an early morning pilates class followed by an overpriced coffee and finding something to do in the city that offered everything. Sitting still was a necessary evil to get to and fro but it left you to stew with your thoughts you preferred to drown in an overwhelming weight of activity.

“Y/N,” Mia calls, bringing you to turn and look at her. 

Her usually glowing face is apprehensive, lip worried between her teeth and eyes downcast.

“Yeah?” 

“You work with kids, right?”

“All day.” You laugh, trying to break the tension.

Mia hesitates, struggling to find the words she wants to say. “After all the stuff you’ve seen, do you still want them?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you and Wooyoung think you’ll have kids someday?”

“I mean not anytime soon considering…”

That we aren’t together. You finish in your mind.

But Mia assumes the unspoke truth is the fact you’re supposed to be living in Boston while Wooyoung is living in New York.

“I mean of course, but like you guys both work with kids and I feel like you know the worst that could happen! My friend Mina just had her baby and she says she can’t sleep. She just sits up all night watching him because she’s afraid somethings gonna happen.”

“Mia, are you and Myungho?”

“Not yet,” she smiles. “But we’ve been talking about it more and I know I want that with him but I’m just—”

“Scared?”

She nods sheepishly.

Hesitating as you weigh your next words carefully, you think about all the conversations you’ve had with worried parents. Most of the kids and parents you met were under less than positive circumstances. Babies with underdeveloped lungs, toddlers who couldn’t breath from just sitting up. You’d be lying if it didn’t make you question having your own. The powerlessness you felt when no matter how hard you worked to fix things it was all for naught. 

But all of the bad days don't outweigh the good ones. When NICU preemies got to leave the ward with their families for the first time. Having a child take their first full breath because their medication was finally starting to work. The plethora of thank you cards hanging on your fridge and displayed in your office from the families you’d helped.

And you remember all the stories Wooyoung told you about his classroom. Kids who could barely read falling in love with the books he gave to them, hounding him for more stories. When he made way with a problem child, watching them begin to excel under his gentle guidance. Giggling at Wooyoung hiding his tears at the end of year advancement ceremony when all his third graders became fourth graders every year.

“I think being scared means you care. And you can always call me if you’re worried, no matter what happens.”

“I’ll definitely take you up on that.” Mia laughs.

“You’re gonna be a great mom.” You whisper, squeezing her arm.

Mia squeezes your hand back, “I always wondered what it’d be like to have a sister.”

“Me too.”

You look away as Mia blinks, breathing away the wetness glossing your own eyes.

—

Upon returning home, you find all four men passed out in various positions in the living room. Mr. Jung in the recliner that predates your birth, mouth wide open and glasses crooked on his nose. Sprawled across the floor is Kyungmin, gangly teenage limbs starfished to the edges of the carpet. Wooyoung and Myungho share a blanket across their laps, both with their backs on opposite sides of the couch. 

You four try to contain your laughter at the sight. If there was any doubt about who fathered the Jung boys, the shaggy black hair and symphony of identical snores would easily lay those rumors to rest. 

Bibi shuffles down the hall to her room, claiming a nap to be a great idea after the pampering from the nail salon. Mia and Mrs. Jung head into the kitchen, each teething with bulging bags of groceries for tonight's gingerbread competition.

But you can’t take your eyes off Wooyoung. The only time he ever looked so peaceful was when he was sleeping, face positively boyish and missing the stress induced wrinkles from managing a class of eight year olds. The urge to cross to him and kiss the freckle on his lower lip floods your brain but you’re able to stuff it down when he whines in his sleep, twisting to re-adjust on the lumpy couch.

Following the shuffle of plastic bags echoing from the kitchen, you busy yourself with unpacking the boxes of pre-made gingerbread houses, candy, and tubes of icing. Neatly organizing the packages on the counter, Mrs. Jung pushes you and Mia upstairs as she starts to prepare dinner.

The clock on the stove shows it’s closing in on three, giving you enough time to shower and have a nap of your own before the mayhem of the evening.

Cranking the faucet to the highest setting, you waste no time waiting for it to heat as you jump under the cold water. Wooyoung called you a psychopath the first time he witnessed you shower routine but you’d been busy applying for medical school, working in the student health center, and tutoring in the biology lab, all while maintaining a perfect GPA in the fall semester of your senior year; you didn’t have time for the simple pleasures of wasting precious minutes while your apartment’s old pipes struggled to carry hot water through the faucet. And as they say, old habits die hard.

The chill brings sharp clarity with it. It’d only been two days and you’d already fallen into the same bickering as before, been tempted to kiss him when no one was around to fool, and nearly fucked him in his childhood bed. 

Three more days. You think, shivering lessening as steam billows around you. 

Then you can leave this entire maddening ordeal behind you forever.

Wooyoung

The squeeze of Wooyoung’s heart threatens to topple him to his knees at the sight of Y/N curled up in his bed. His old college hoodie circles her face, lips pouted and eyebrows furrowed at whatever dream world she’s lost in. 

Wooyoung aches to wake her up with innocent kisses as he holds her to his chest, fingers ironing out the wrinkles of her forehead as she breaches the surface of sleep. To smile at her whines of protest of being interrupted from a rare opportunity to rest without worrying about work or some other responsibility.

But what Wooyoung wants, he doesn’t deserve. As bold and indulgent as he might be in front of the prying eyes of his family, he isn’t cruel. Even if it kills him not to touch her like he used to be able to, Wooyoung won’t subject her to the torture of his feelings. It’s the least he can do for pulling Y/N into this sham after ending their relationship without explanation. 

“Y/N,” he whispers, fingers prodding her shoulder. “Gotta wake up.”

She responds with a throaty groan, pulling the edge of the blanket over her head to hideaway.

“C’mon it's almost time for dinner.” 

“Youngie, it’s cold.” Y/N protests as he tries to lift the covers.

Grinding his teeth against the nickname, Wooyoung continues to pry the quilt from her iron grip.

“I can get Bibi up here.”

Flying into a seated position, she blinks against the overhead light. “I’m up!” 

“That’s what I thought.” Wooyoung smirks, crossing to the door. “Let’s go sunshine.”

Y/N mutters empty threats under her breath the entire way to the kitchen, so close she’s cast in his shadow under the threat of Bibi’s wake up methods. Nothing like a woman pushing eighty banging pots over your head to get the blood pumping.

Everyone else already crowds the table, picking apart the trays of snacks as they organize their supplies kits. 

Jung family tradition requires everyone, sans Bibi, to decorate their own house according to the year's theme. After an hour, she picks her favorite and the winner has the honor of opening the first present on Christmas morning. Y/N demolished Myungho’s long standing winning streak the first year she entered the competition; Mia taking her place the next year in Y/N’s absence. Since then, Kyungmin reigned supreme despite his creation looking like a haunted house no matter what the theme was.

“Alright,” Bibi stands once Wooyoung and Y/N have taken their seats at the end of the table. “This year's theme is movies. On your mark, get set. Go!”

A room full of adults, plus Kyungmin who's only a few months short, should act with a sense of decorum and dignity. A fair and clean competition in the name of holiday spirit, family, and comradery.

But Jung house rules mean cheating is not only expected, it’s encouraged.

The table is warzone. Icing dripping off the sides and onto the tile floor. Candies trailing everywhere like shrapnel. Mia hides a piece of Myungho’s roof in her lap, and their mom steals the level their dad insists on using every year. Even Kyungmin slowly starts hoarding the bags of colorful royal frosting one by one in the pocket of his hoodie before anyone can notice.

Wooyoung catches Y/N attempting to eat his bag of gumdrops in his periphery. Their half gone by the time he’s noticed but he simply laughs under his breath. What she doesn’t know is that those are her gumdrops and his are stashed under the table since they sat down.

The little sugar addict is nothing if not predictable.

Most of the houses are beginning to take shape, albeit much more loose definitions of whatever each person decided to do. Kyungmin’s house is poop green with a red roof, streaks of color patchy against the brown cookie sheets. His mom sticks with the traditional decorations instructed on the packaging, no doubt prepared to argue it somehow fits the theme despite being the same every year. Mia’s is laced garishly with pink and pastels, while Myungho crumbles pieces of his for whatever godforsaken reason.

Wooyoung focuses on decorating his tiny gingerbread man with black slashes and stripes.

“Time!” yells Bibi as she whacks the bottom of a pot with a wooden spoon, everyone drops their last piece of candy before hands fly up.

As always, his mom manages to be the only one to finish due to years of practice. Everyone else’s houses are… interesting.

“Mine’s the Grinch,” Kyungmin says.

“The Grinch?” Y/N asks, confused by the horrendous green and red abomination.

“See, you get it!” 

Shaking her head, Y/N points to her own monstrosity. “Okay, so the yellow skittles are the yellow brick road and the green on the house is meant to look like the Emerald City from Wizard of Oz.”

Perhaps if the Emerald City burned to the ground and became ruins but everyone nods at the vision.

“Mine is supposed to be Barbie's Dream house.” says Mia, gesturing to the mound of pink frosting sliding from the roof.

Myungho slams a toy dinosaur from their childhood on top of his pile of cookie pieces before declaring, “Jurassic Park.”

“Home Alone,” his mom chimes.

A chorus of groans around the table answer.

His dad’s is covered in chocolate bars and marshmallows. It looks decent but Wooyoung doesn’t get it until he tells them it’s “Willy Wonka.”

Nodding in appreciation, Wooyoung presents his.

“Nightmare Before Christmas.”

The gray and black icing swirl to make a ugly blob, but Wooyoung will argue it’s exactly what he was going for. Especially with his miniscule Jack Skellington perched in the yard.

Bibi circles the table, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at each entry. She shakes her head at Kyungmin, clearly disappointed in his failure this year. 

“Eunkyung wins!” She cheers, raising his mom’s hand like she won a boxing match.

Claps and whoops fill the kitchen as she beams, proud to win a second time in the history of the competition. 

“Wooyoung, put the winning house on the mantel please.” His dad asks, already moving towards the pantry for trash bags.

“Your majesty.” Wooyoung bows in front of his mom, laughing when she slaps his shoulder.

What he fails to realize is Y/N is leaving the same door he is, and that a sprig of green leaves sit just above their heads.

“Mistletoe!” his mom squeals.

“Huh?” Grunts Y/N, confused.

Wooyoung looks up and spots the infuriating piece of decoration, another pair of eyes trailing after his own. 

If they were still dating, Wooyoung would swoop her into his arms and make an entire production of giving her a short peck on the cheek, his parents were watching after all, while Y/N laughed at his ridiculousness. But now he hesitates as he looks into her eyes, barely missing the nod as she leaves a brief kiss on his lips before turning and leaving the room.

Even under the brief contact, Wooyoung’s lips feel like they’ve been zapped with lightning; his entire body on high alert. So lost in his own world, Wooyoung doesn’t realize he watches her walk away until she’s turning a corner and is out of sight. 

Remembering the gingerbread house still in his hand, Wooyoung continues into the living room to place it front and center on the mantel. 

Y/N

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! You think, watching yourself in the mirror as you brush your teeth.

You’d spent the rest of the night sweaty and flushed, stuttering like an idiot because of a G-rated kiss with your ex-boyfriend for crying out loud. 

What was wrong with you? 

It was like the butterflies of the beginning of your relationship were waking from dormancy, demanding to let loose in your chest.

But none of this is real. Wooyoung only reached out so Bibi wouldn’t be upset over a last minute cancellation. He didn’t ask to explain why he ended your relationship so suddenly. Didn’t try to weasel his way back in and kiss everything better. All the touching and joking you’d missed so much were nothing more than an elaborate plan for Wooyoung to not be seen as the bad guy by his family. His way of delaying the inevitable. 

And you’d fallen right into the mess subconsciously hoping it might have meant something more. 

The foaming residue of toothpaste splashes against the porcelain sink as you finish washing up. Hiding in the bathroom can only buy you so much time before you have to face Wooyoung again, a new feast of tension waiting for you on a silver platter.

His tiny room is notably empty. Wooyoung nowhere to be seen as you burrow into the blankets. Hopefully, he stays away until you're fully unconscious and able to avoid the entire ordeal.

—

A draft of frigid air invading the warm haze under your mountain of quilts wakes you. Wooyoung shushes your indignant protest, pulling the top layers off. His weight doesn’t dip the bed behind you. Instead, you listen as he shuffles around, the dull thud of pillows and blankets hitting the floor. When he quiets, you turn to see him curled into a ball on a makeshift sleeping matt next to the bed. 

The questions burn on the tip of your tongue. Why is he sleeping on the floor? Was he that upset about the kiss? 

But you don’t ask and Wooyoung doesn’t provide an answer.

December 24th

Wooyoung

Christmas eve is Wooyoung’s favorite part of the holidays. Not even a poor night sleep on the freezing unforgiving floor can dull his excitement. 

He’d risen early, sneaky out of the room the second the sun peaked from the horizon and illuminated the space. Y/N slept soundly, back turned away from him as he evaded her successfully.

A fresh powder of snow fell sometime in the night. So with a hot cup of coffee and a need to get lost in something mindlessly physical, Wooyoung heads to the garage for a shovel to clear the sidewalk and driveway.

Wooyoung knows he should apologize to her. She’d basically avoided him after they got caught under the mistletoe, scurrying upstairs the second it was polite for her to do so. Technically, she kissed him. But the entire situation wouldn’t exist if he didn’t put his foot in his mouth.

Plus, the entire ordeal of yesterday morning couldn’t be ignored. And Wooyoung was ashamed he didn’t feel ashamed.

Mind numb in the cold monotony of moving slush from the concrete to the yard, muscles burning at the strain, Wooyoung loses track of time as the sun moves across the sky.

His dad finds him shoveling the end of the driveway, pants soaked and breath heaving. 

“You okay, kid?” the older man asks, sipping his thermos.

“Fine,” Wooyoung pants. “Why?”

“Because you’re out here.”

“Just helping out.”

“Wooyoung.” A sharp sternness to his tone as his dad’s gloved hands halt the shovel.

He hates that voice. Wooyoung’s dad was soft spoken and good natured, the quietest member of their boisterous family. Always gentle with three rowdy sons that constantly pushed the endless bounds of his patience. Wooyoung can count on one hand the times his dad used this voice on him. Apparently now is one of those times.

Wooyoung looks his dad in the eye before lying to his face, “I’m fine. Really.”

Eying his son skeptically, Wooyoung’s dad clearly doesn’t believe him. 

“Alright.” he drawls. “But come inside, your mom made pancakes.”

Y/N

“Come on Kyungmin, we don’t want to be late!” Bibi calls from the hallway.

In front of you, Kyungmin blanches; terrified of another day surrounded by prodding grandmothers. He looks at you for help, but you offer a sympathetic smile and a shrug of shoulders. If only he knew how much torture you were being subjected to in the name of keeping Bibi happy.

Wooyoung had been scarce since the early hours of the morning, slaving away at clearing the driveway alone. He made a brief appearance at breakfast and lunch but found any excuse to stay faraway from whatever room you planted yourself in. 

Taking the hint, you set up camp in the kitchen. Laptop screen reflecting off your blue-light glasses as you skimmed another journal article about forced oscillation technique and impulse oscillometry. Fascinating as it was to you, it’s just boring enough to anyone else to keep them away; allowing you to waste away the entire afternoon in the most productive way possible.

The sun is already setting by the time others begin to trickle into the kitchen. Mia begins filling snack trays for the trademark movie night; half sweet, half savory. While Myungho sets to work on a batch of mulled cider they picked up at the market.

Kyungmin stomps into the kitchen with a fuming Bibi hot on his heels.

“They’re nice girls, Kyungmin. There was no need to be rude!”

Your wide eyes meet Mia's twin expressions of shock. The youngest was a sweet kid; perhaps he had an attitude sometimes, but he was a teenager after all. To hear he’s been out right rude and in front of Bibi no less, comes as a surprise.

“You’re crazy!” Kyungmin yells, arms waving wildly before he flees to his room.

The sudden silence of the kitchen is rattling. No one moves or speaks as Bibi starts organizing random objects and mail on the counter, clearly uncomfortable with her grandson’s outburst.

Slipping from your chair, you turn to follow in the direction you know he’s bound for.

—

Winter in Colorado is brutal enough, but the wind slicing across your cheeks as you teeter out a tiny window onto the roof at the back of the house makes you regret wearing only a sweatshirt and matching sweatpants. 

Kyungmin’s lone figure is illuminated in the silver moonlight. A telltale stench fills your nostrils despite the thick smoke evaporating in the wind the second it leaves his mouth. Waddling towards him on your butt, you stop next to him. He passes the glass bowl into your waiting hand without a peep. 

You take a long hit before speaking, allowing the tingle of THC to flutter through your veins. 

“Wanna talk about it?” You ask, cradling your knees to your chest in an effort to conserve warmth.

“No.”

“Okay.”

The thick woods fencing in the backyard bends in the wind. Pine trees shake the fronds like feathers, fluffing up as the wind flutters by. A lone swing, attached to a rickety playground set, swings back and forth. It’s beautiful and eerie. Only your breath and the occasional cough from Kyungmin disturbs the fragile place.

“I can’t wait to go to college.” Kyungmin mutters from under his hood.

“Have you heard from anywhere yet?”

“No. But I don’t care where I go as long as I’m not here.”

“Was it that bad?”

“She’s crazy! All of them in that fucking church are insane!”

“Wooyoung told me the same thing.” You chuckle.

“They just stare at me. It’s creepy.” 

“Yeah, that sounds pretty creepy.”

“And Andi just laughs whenever I try to tell her about it.”

“Who’s Andi?”

“A friend.” 

Kyungmin’s tense response tells you Andi isn’t just a friend at all.

“What's she like?”

“She’s nice. She’s in my history class at school.”

“Oh?”

“And she got a scholarship to play soccer in Georgia.”

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“So you like her?”

“I mean, of course I do. She’s my best friend.”

“Kyungmin…”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s so out of my league.” Kyungmin sighs.

“Why do you think that?”

“She’s smart, and she’s athletic, and she’s funny. She wouldn’t see me like that.”

“Okay.” You nod, “Well, when Bibi started pimping you out at church, what did Andi do?”

“She got really mad when I went on a date with one of them.”

“Oh, really?”

“She didn’t talk to me for like two weeks. I thought she was just, like, on her period or something.”

Shaking your head, you turn to face the ignorant boy. “Alright, first things first. Never, under any circumstances, assume a girl is mad at you because she’s on her period. Ask your brothers or your dad how that's worked out for them. Second, how would you feel if Andi went on a date with someone?”

Face twisting in disgust, Kyungmin grabs the piece again to take a hit.

“Exactly. Maybe you should ask her on a date.”

Kyungmin snorts at the idea, “Yeah, sure.”

“Party out here?” Myungo calls from the window.

Turning, you spot Wooyoung and Mia peaking around his broad shoulders.

“Yeah but it’s B.Y.O.W.”

“Perfect.” He calls back, folding in half to step on the roof.

“Just think about what I said, okay?”

“Okay.” Kyungmin promises as he links his pinky with yours.

Mia and Myungho land on Kyungmin’s other side, a joint visible in Mia’s dainty fingers. Wooyoung plops down next to you, lifting the bowl from Kyungmin and dumping the ash on to the roof.

As he focuses on packing it, you get your first glimpse of him all day. The tip of his nose is red and he keeps sniffling, no doubt from the hours he spent outside or in the garage doing who knows what. Wooyoung’s hair is a mess of tangles, sticking this way and that in the wind and you choke on the urge to straighten it for him. 

You’ve never been good at staying mad at him, even when he’s clearly in the wrong. And what’s worse is Wooyoung knows it. 

Wisps of smoke pour from his nostrils before he passes you the bowl again. Shaking your head, Kyungmin plucks it from his brother’s fingers.

You feel Wooyoung’s breath caress the shell of your ear before he speaks.

“What are you guys doing out here?” He whispers.

“Bibi.” You whisper back.

Wooyoung nods lazily, eyes glazed already. Landing on his back, he looks up to the sky. 

The pale light sharpens his features. Strange how all three brothers looked so similar yet different. Kyungmin still had the round cheeks of adolescents, limbs gangly as he towers over his brothers at only seventeen. Myungho was broader than both but only a fraction taller than Wooyoung, square jaw and cropped hair. But Wooyoung was all angles and sharpness. Even from the first night he approached you in that dingy karaoke bar near campus, you knew he was handsome. But now he looks ethereal. Like some beautiful demon coming to take your soul and laugh all the while. 

Eventually you all end up shoulder to shoulder, each lost and thought and staring at the lonely full moon above. Wooyoung’s hand brushes your own, sending throbbing jolts of electricity through your body. Hooking your pointer finger around his, Wooyoung sighs next to you before settling. 

It somehow hurts worse than if he would have let go.

Wooyoung

Exhaustion and pot nearly knock Wooyoung out as he passes his bedroom door. An early night, lost in the land of dreams where he doesn’t have to think about why he can’t look Y/N in the eye; why he felt a punch in the gut when he spotted her on the roof with his little brother, taking care of him like Kyungmin was her own family; how he wanted to cry when her fingers circled his own. 

Wooyoung’s attempt to uncomplicate his life only seemed to tighten the noose around his neck.

Jung family tradition dictates a Christmas movie with gross amounts of sugary snacks on Christmas Eve. The tradition started before Wooyoung could remember but it’d been his favorite all the same. What little kid didn’t cherish the opportunity to wake up to Santa dropping presents under the tree? Not that he or his brothers managed to stay awake more than half way through whatever movie his parents pulled from the dusty DVD collection on the bookshelf. But as he grew older, Wooyoung appreciated the uninterrupted time he was gifted to spend with his family, especially with each of them living in separate corners of the country.

The new set of matching pajamas every year were simply a bonus.

This year’s boast a deep green with a vintage Christmas light pattern. The inner flannel is positively delightful against Wooyoung’s freezing skin, lulling him into a light doze as leans against the couch between Y/N’s spread legs. 

Kyungmin sprawls in his usual place on the rug in front of the coffee table, glazed eyes glued to Will Ferell terrorizing New York City in yellow tights. Mia and Myungho are off on the other side of the couch, Bibi taking the middle seat. His parents are snug in his dad’s recliner, resembling two teenagers rather than the fifty year olds they really are. Adorably disgusting how in love they still are. 

Resting his cheek against Y/N’s knee, Wooyoung twists his hands in his lap. He can’t touch her. Not sober and absolutely not high out of his mind like he is at this very moment. Because if he starts, Wooyoung is too weak to stop himself. And considering the way she keeps staring at him every time she thinks he isn’t looking, Wooyoung doesn’t think Y/N would want him to stop either. 

—

Bedtime is the same awkward dance as before. His entire family pulls each other into tight hugs, mostly aided by the edibles Myungho slipped them before they all descended downstairs. Calls of “Love you,” and “see you in the morning,” land against his back as he trails behind Y/N.

They get ready for bed in the dark, flashes of bare skin visible in the light trickling in from the cracked curtains covering the lonely window. Turning to face the wall, Wooyoung plugs in his phone while he listens for her to land on the mattress.

When the shuffling ceases, he finds her in a nest on the floor, back towards him.

“What are you doing?”

“You took the floor last night.”

“You don’t hav–”

“Just go to bed.” She bites, voice fragile.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” he huffs, temper rising as he crosses to the other side of the mattress.

“I’m fine.” 

“Just take the bed.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Sitting up, Wooyoung barely makes out her scowl. “Why do I need to explain everything to you?”

“Why are you being so stubborn?”

“I’m stubborn? Me?”

“Considering you’re the one on the floor while the bed is empty, yes you’re the stubborn one.”

“Because I’m fine here!”

Wooyoung wades through the quicksand of his brain for a response. Upon finding none, he flops on the pile of blankets next to her.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping. Now shut up.”

“Wooyoung,” she sighs.

No more energy to fight, Wooyoung burrows deeper into the mound of quilts; set to sleep next to her on the floor if she continues to refuse the bed. If he was a diva on poor sleep, Y/N was a menace. She’d cave eventually when her hips ached from the painful stiffness of the unbending wood.

Except Wooyoung can’t sleep. All of his nerves are heightened next to her. His entire left side burns in her heat, acutely aware of every shift of her weight or rustle of the blankets. Wooyoung’s lips still burn from their kiss. A childish brush against his mouth but he can’t stop replaying it in his mind over and over. And when he thinks about yesterday morning, when he dreamed about her and then woke up flushed against her, it all makes his blood rush to his head and a weight settles on the back of his tongue.

When Y/N stops twitching beneath the covers behind him, breath even and shallow, Wooyoung finally follows her into sleep.

December 25th

Wooyoung

Christmas morning brings Bibi through the upstairs hallway with a familiar wooden spoon and small tin pot. Wooyoung hears the first crash slide under the crack beneath his door, an ice bath to his system.

He’s still on the floor, a foot between him and Y/N. 

“Get up.” Wooyoung shakes her, not wasting a second as he stands to dive into the still made bed.

She groans in the morning light, eyes crusted as she looks for the disturbance.

Another shrill beat sings through the hall. Much closer to Wooyoung’s door than last time.

“Shit!” 

Y/N tackles him into the pillows. Both attempting to look natural as the door rebounds against the wall, a well rested Bibi standing in the doorway.

“RISE AND SHINE!” His grandmother wails, drumming a rhythmless beat and she turns to stalk towards Kyungmin’s room at the end of the hall.

Dual sighs of relief leave their lips, Y/N rising to stalk to the bathroom without looking back.

Y/N

Mrs. Jung’s victory grants her the privilege of opening the first present this morning. Everyone gathers around, matching states of messy hair and bed-wraggled pajamas, to shred shiny wrapping paper at ten in the morning.

Her first gift is the large rectangle box addressed from her sons, all of them failing to stifle their matching laughter as she slowly unwraps the picture frame. You and Mia had helped arrange the picture last time everyone was together for Bibi’s birthday, sneaking out of the house with the excuse of seeing a movie when you drove to the mall for an old school photoshoot at the department store. 

Wooyoung’s parents join in the giggling bouncing of the walls as they take in all three boys dressed head to toe in denim, arms wrapped around on another’s waists prom-date style as they stare dead faced at the camera. The cherry on top is their matching bowl cuts, making them resemble a nineties boy band. Another frame slips out of the paper, a similar photo of you and Mia except her chin rests on top of your head, eyes obscured by yellow tinted sunglasses.

“Oh my god,” Mrs. Jung guffaws. “You all are ridiculous.”

Passing the frames around the room, Mrs. Jung takes turns hugging her sons along with you and Mia. 

“Oh, my girls. Thank you for putting up with them.” She whispers into your ears, Mia on her left and you on her right. 

You refuse to think about how tomorrow you’ll leave their house for the last time as you squeeze her back tightly. 

As the youngest, Kyungmin is charged with passing out rounds of presents while Mr. Jung collects the discarded ribbons and paper. Thankfully, bringing a gift for Wooyoung wasn’t an expectation. Why sacrifice sacred luggage space to exchange gifts with someone who lives in your backyard? Mia and Myungho never brought their gifts for one another, and you and Wooyoung followed suit.

But that didn’t stop you from braving the hoards of the city in an effort to last minute Christmas shopping before flying out. Bibi loves the fancy lotion you brought her, and Kyungmin is more than satisfied with the promise of whatever new video he can afford with a Playstation gift card. Wooyoung’s parents leaf through the books you bought in a last ditch effort to provide some sort of parting gift. Myungho screams as he unwraps the mug with “IBS: I be shitting” blasted across the front and Mia opens each tin of specialty tea for a whiff of the herbal scents.

Hours later, surrounded in the disarray of boxes and bows, Mrs. Jung announces it’s time for brunch. Everyone takes turns washing up or teetering upstairs to brush their teeth but she pulls you aside before you have a chance to follow.

“Y/N, we have one last gift for you.” She whispers, removing a small box from behind her back. “I didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone just in case but I want you to know how much we all love you.”

You pull out a cardboard box and a thick card.

“To my future Daughter in Law,

There isn’t a single day I don’t thank the stars for how lucky my son is to find someone as incredible as you. He’s a better person because of you and our family is so blessed to have you in it. I was lucky enough to be given three amazing sons but now I’m fortunate enough to have two daughters as well. 

Love, Mrs. Jung”

Each word is a new punch to the gut, tears swelling in the corner of tight eyes. Focusing on opening the box in an effort not to break down in the hallway, you unveil a simple silver chain with a knotted pendant. The same you’ve seen Mia and Mrs. Jung wear on special occasions.

“Oh, I can’t—”

“Nope. I won’t hear a word of it! It’s family tradition. Bibi gave me mine, and now I get to give you yours.”

“But I really—”

But Wooyoung’s mom is a force to be reckoned with. Slipping the delicate piece of jewelry out of the box, she slips it around your neck and straightens it before you can stop her. When she’s happy, you fall into her arms in a fierce hug as you weep into her shoulder.

“Oh sweetie,” she coos, patting your back comfortingly; clearly thinking you're overcome with emotion at officially being a part of the family.

You don’t correct her. Why ruin such a heartfelt moment by shattering the illusion now that you're so close to the end? Instead, you take comfort in her embrace, willing the tears to stop with the same principle you use in the hospital: save the crying for the shower.

Stepping out of the hug, you allow her to wipe away the trails of tears marring your cheeks with soft swipes of her thumbs, a soft smile at her tutting over you. Mrs. Jung pulls you into one last bear hug before pushing you upstairs to compose yourself.

Wooyoung stares as you pass him on the stairs, evidently alarmed at the evidence of your crying. But you keep your eyes down as you trudge by. 

Wooyoung

Wooyoung can’t help but worry at what happened between presents and breakfast to make Y/N so upset but his mom keeps squeezing her shoulder and Bibi just smiles knowingly in her direction. The new necklace circling her neck is familiar but Wooyoung can’t place why and he hasn’t had the opportunity to ask. 

Crowding into the living room as the sun sets, he doesn’t miss the way Mia intertwines Y/N into a fierce squeeze, practically bouncing off the walls with giddiness. He doesn’t have time to ask what it’s about before another movie is starting on the TV to wind down for the evening.

He can feel the tension rolling off her in waves next to him. Muscles locked and leg jittering the same way it did before she had to take her MCAT or open exam results. When the screen fades to black, Y/N is up the stairs and out of sit before he can blink.

Following her up, Wooyoung finds her perched on the edge of his bed, fingers stroking the pendant resting between her collarbones. Shut in the quiet of his room, Wooyoung asks the question that’s buzzed in his veins all day.

“What’s the necklace about?”

“Your mom gave it to me.”

“I thought so.” He nods. “But why was everyone acting weird about it?”

Rather than answer, Y/N hands him a note. Wooyoung recognizes the tight cursive of his mom’s handwriting. Regret trickles down his spine and bubbles over with each word. He’d never meant to be cruel when he asked Y/N to come here but then again he didn’t think about how hard this must have been for her. To secretly say goodbye to his family and their relationship after she was already working through it on her own. He should have known she was bottling it all up, the same way he was prone to.

“I didn’t realize she’d—”

“Why did you break up with me?” She asks, still staring at the floor.

Regret transforms into the shame that’s eaten him alive for months. Wooyoung’s mouth won’t form the truth for what he did so he lies.

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit!” She bites, glazed eyes blazing as she rounds on him. “Eight years. We dated for eight years and you think you can tell me you don’t know why?”

“We dated for eight years and you didn’t even say anything when I did it! You just left.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! What was I supposed to do? Beg you to stay?”

“You just gave up.”

“No, you gave up!” her voice cracks, finger pointing accusingly. “I didn’t even know we were having problems.”

“Boston was always a problem!”

“Which I was already planning to fix.”

Wooyoung recoils from the invisible smack against his face. Is that what she was planning to tell him when he interrupted her? 

“What?”

“That night I was trying to tell you I got a job in the city. That I was moving back.”

“You’re joking.”

Shoulder sagging under the weight of their mess, Y/N falls back onto the bed.“It was gonna be my last weekend trip down.”

Sniffles and desperate breaths fill the space. And Wooyoung gathers the courage to tell her the truth.

“I was planning to propose.” He can see her head turn in his peripheral, but he’ll lose the gaul if he sees her face so Wooyoung stares at the wall ahead as he speaks. “I had the ring for a year. And I was gonna ask you but I…” he trails off.

“You what?”

“I got scared.”

“Of me?”

“Of everything. I thought of how much we’d have to change, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to give anything up to be with me.”

“Wooyoung, I never felt like that.” She objects, shaking her head. “I hated Boston. Do you think I was moving back to the city for you?”

“Kind of, I—”

“I have my own life there. I lived there for seven years! I was always planning to move back.”

“Then why were you being so secretive about it?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise. I knew you’d been stressed and I ddin’t want to add something else to your plate and… because I was worried if I brought it up too soon something would go wrong.”

“I still have it by the way.”

“What?”

“The ring.”

“Why?”

“I think some part of me feels like if I let it go then it’s really over.”

“Are you trying to tell me you want to get back together?”

“I didn’t want to break up to begin with.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

“Because I’m not good enough for you! I’ve never been good enough and I know you say it's not true but it is. I’m a public school teacher with shit pay and an apartment I can barely afford. That’s all I can offer you and it isn’t close enough to what you deserve.”

“Do you think I’m that shallow?” Y/N fumes, clearly not understanding what Wooyoung meant. “Why do you think you get to decide what's good enough for me?”

“Because someone has too! One day you’re gonna wake up and realize you can have anyone you want.”

“Not anyone.”

Y/N

The suffocating atmosphere of Wooyoung’s room pushes you into the chilly shower stall. In the stifling steam and perfumed bubbles, you quietly let all the emotions of the day run wild; eyes puffy, face swollen, and snot dripping from your nose to be washed away by the boiling streams of water. You hide for as long as possible, shivering as the heated water runs out and frigid ropes blast your skin. Unable to endure anymore of the stinging icicles, you exit the stall red nosed and blue lipped. 

Wooyoung sits on the edge of the bed with his back to the door. You watch his shoulder tense, rising closer to his ears as you pad closer to lay down. 

You’re too tired to sleep on the floor, too exhausted to fight with him again. So you curl under the covers, body sliding back when Wooyoung joins you. 

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, tracing his index finger along the knobs of your spine, attempting to comfort you the same way he always had.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

You both stay there in the silent darkness, their breaths and the hum of the heater keeping absolute stillness at bay. The tears you split in the shower followed you to the pillow, running down your cheeks as you try to keep the worst at bay. Wooyoung doesn’t stop tracing shapes between your shoulder blades, the worn cotton of your sleep shirt rubbing against your heated skin. How is the source of your distress the same as the source of your comfort?

Turning to face him, you realize how close he’s moved. Scant inches separate your chests, the heat of his legs licking your own bare ones under the blankets. You spot his own tears, eyes swollen and red, thick lashes clumped together as they fall.

If your love for Wooyoung was an ocean, you’d be lost at sea for years. 

He watches you watch him, hands finding one anothers and tangling together. When Wooyoung opens his mouth, pausing as a sniffle breaks free, you surge up to connect your lips.

Startling for only a second, he eagerly kisses you back. Tears and spit gloss your lips as you dip your tongue into his mouth, licking against his teeth before retreating to bruise his lower lip with your own. Wooyoung manages to roll on top of you, pinning you to the mattress as if you plan to up and leave at any second. You respond by crushing your lips together a fraction harder, attempting to communicate the longing and hurt words can’t convey.

The hem of his shirt finds its way between your fingers, moving further up his stomach with each insistent tug. Wooyoung’s own hands busy themselves, one buried in the hairs at the base of your scalp, cradling your head to move you this way and that as he continues exploring your mouth. The other wrinkles the pillow case beside you, muscles rippling as he holds himself over you. 

When you wiggle your hips, thighs spreading to cradle him between, he dives to your neck. Blood rushes to the surface as he nips and bruises the delicate skin below your jaw, scorching pants raising goosebumps in its wake. He shudders when your nails scratch down his abdomen, thumb dipping under the band of his pajama pants.

It's been nearly eight months without this. Two months before your breakup, in this very bed while the rest of the house was asleep as Wooyoung laughed into your neck while you drunkenly whined for him to touch you.

As familiar as those memories are, this time is entirely new. 

Wooyoung’s thumb, knowing and skilled, brushes across one of your nipples over your shirt, using the rough fabric to his advantage; stiffing it to a tight peak before allowing the weight to settle in his palm. Arching your back, you remove the piece of cloth separating you. Wooyoung barely allows you space to slough it over your head before he’s back on you, latching to the side of your neglected breast as he curls his hips into yours coursley. Your body reacts on nothing but instinct; back arching closer, thighs spreading wider as his knees carry him further down the mattress.

Reverent caresses of his hands lead him to the apex of your thighs, his breath fanning the damp patch of your shorts just before Wooyoung tucks his thumbs into the elastic to nudge them down, breathing deeply as he bares you for his eyes.

A tentative lick up length of your slit pulls a pathetic whimper from the back of your mouth. The flat of his tongue lave against your engorged clit, slow and torturous as Wooyoung indulges in your taste. Rough palms slide beneath the meat of your thighs, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders. A harsh suck against the bundle of nerves locks your muscles tightly around Wooyoung’s head but he takes it in stride as he drops a hand to slip his fingers inside your clenching hole. Curling the pads of his digits upwards, you feel him in your throat as you bite back moans. Your fingers twist in Wooyoung’s inky hair at the delicious torture, hips rocking into his eager mouth as he pants against you; refusing to separate from your drenched center. 

When his unoccupied hand slips into your own, a death grip on your entertwined fingers, you fall apart. Your chapped lips nearly bleed from effort to remain quiet, writhing in Wooyoung’s hold as he continues to lap up everything you offer him.

A final suck against your clit has you scrambling to pull his mouth to your own, tasting yourself on his soaked cheeks and tongue.

“Please,” you whisper into his mouth.

Wooyoung responds by kissing you gently, the passion curling your toes while he fists his length before allowing the flared head to nudge your entrance.

Finally presses forward, fitting inside you as he always has, another tear burns down to your face. It all comes rushing forward, never ending waves rolling over you after you’ve been knocked down into the surf. Memories, good and bad, race through you at a breakneck speed. The tingling elation of the night Wooyoung asked you to be his girlfriend, the nerves of when you asked him to move in together during medical school. Sadness when you moved away for residency with the promise to come back. The numbing despair you felt the night you thought would be a turning point in your lives. The straw that breaks the camel's back is Wooyoung's admission that you’re too good for him. Choking your own pain down, you try to hone in on a spot on the ceiling in an effort to stay grounded.

Several seconds pass before Wooyoung notices the fresh bout of sobs, mistaking choked whimpers as whines of pleasure after such a long time apart. His nose traces the tendon of your neck as he cants his hips slowly, one hand still tangled in yours, the other pressing your knee up and around his waist to stretch deeper. When the dig of your nails into his shoulder turns from a sting to a cut, he leans back and realizes his mistake.

Eyes find one another through the distorted haze your sorrows create, his rounded with concern still glazed with evidence of his own tears. Staring at one another in a silence broken by sniffling and staccato breaths, a second set of tears mix with your own as he rests his forehead against yours. Locking your arms around Wooyoung’s broad shoulders and hooking your knees around his back, you try to seal him into your skin. 

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, voice broken and cracked. “I’m so sorry. I–” he hiccups. “I didn’t–”

What he’s apologizing for is a mystery. Forcing you into this charade? Telling you he was planning to propose? Breaking up with you in the first place? 

Perhaps it's all those things. Maybe it's none of them.

“I love you.” He whimpers into your hair, lips branding the words into your skin.

It’s not enough. But for tonight, you’ll let it be.

“I love you, too.” you whisper back, straining to brush the tip of your nose against his own.

Tomorrow, you’ll fly back to the city and hide in your apartment and pretend to be okay. Dive so far into your work that you forget the way Wooyoung has ripped the healing wound on your heart open again.

Tonight, you’ll pretend the missing piece has finally been found and can stay forever.

Tensing your thighs, your locked ankles nudge at the dip of his spine to remind Wooyoung he’s still inside you. He hesitates for a moment but your lips silence his objections, just as eager to indulge in the fantasy as you are.

The pace is bruising, stomachs firmly pressed together as he reaches for the top of the bed frame to provide more leverage. Wooyoung’s back ripples and flexes as he pounds into you, the vibration of his weak moans tickling the sensitive pads of your fingers as they etch down his ribs.

Consumed by an overwhelming need to touch him everywhere, you cradle his face between your palms. Wooyoung flashes his eyes open, as if startled you’re still there, before leaning into one of them. Thumb tracing his lips, he drops a searing kiss to the crease of your knuckle. The tenderness burns the remaining oxygen out of the room.

His next word is so quiet your ears fail to detect them over the slap of your bodies connecting or the squeak of the old bed frame. But Wooyoung’s said them against your skin enough times over the years for you to know the feel of his mouth forming around the sound.

You come with a muted whimper. So worn from tears, pleasure fizzles in your veins like the gentle ripple of the wind through the trees. Clenching around Wooyoung harshly, the tell tale hitch in his breath signals the beginning of his end. 

But he is truly done for when you lean up and whisper his words back into his ear, “forever.”

December 26th

Wooyoung

Wooyoung wakes to an empty bed, cold sheets, and the pillowcase squishing his cheek already damp from the tears he shed while sleeping.

December 29th

Wooyoung

A tedious drive to the airport grants Wooyoung ample time to stew in discontent, replaying the events of the past week over and over in his head.

Was he insane to think Y/N wanted him too? All the moments he nearly forgot they’re barely more than strangers after months of silence, how they still fit together so perfectly. Wooyoung knew he’d been a mess after the break up but the past week made him realize how lost he felt without her. Like the ocean without the moon to guide the tide; like he was missing half his heart. How many times had he opened his messages to text her something mundane from his day, just to close them and realize he’d ruined the best thing in his life in a second of weakness? And now having her next to him again, knowing he can’t fix what he did?

“When were you planning to tell us you two broke up?”

“Huh?”

“Wooyoung, I know.”

“How… she told you?”

“Poor thing was crying the entire way to the airport. I told her I wouldn’t let her fly by herself if she was that upset until she explained.”

“What’d she say?”

“That you two broke up a few months ago but you didn’t want to disappoint us.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“You know Y/N, always keeps her cards close to her chest.” His mom looks at him from the corner of her eye. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“I made a mistake.”

“If you two weren’t happy then it wasn’t a mistake.”

“But we were happy! She’s the one and I messed it up because I’m not good enough for her.”

“Where is that coming from?”

“I know you and dad wanted me to be an engineer like Myungho, okay? Even Kyungmin wants to be a lawyer! I’m the family disappointment. It only makes sense I’d disappoint Y/N too.”

Wooyoung’s mom is notorious for going under the speed limit, waiting to turn even if the oncoming car is five hundred feet away, and using her blinker religiously. Which is why Wooyoung thinks she’s having a seizure when she veers off the road and onto the shoulder like an F1 driver.

“You are not a disappointment! To me or your father or anyone. You are my son, and I have always been proud of that. I’ve seen you teaching, the way those kids look up to you. You’re doing exactly what you were meant to. And if my worrying has made you feel that way then I am so sorry. I’ll we’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy sweetie.”

Crossing his arms, Wooyoung flicks away the beads of moisture tracing down his chin. “You’re my mom, you have to say that.”

“Well I’m not Y/N’s mom but I talk about her the same way.”

“Yeah well she’s a doctor, saving kids lives and all that.”

“You don’t think you do the same thing? Those kids come to school excited to learn because of you. Just because you’re not finding a cure for cancer doesn’t mean your job isn’t important. And Y/N isn’t disappointed with you either. She loves you, Wooyoung. Why don’t you let her decide what she wants?”

“Yeah, well I think it’s too late for that.” Wooyoung mumbles, eyes on the toes of his shoes.

“Maybe you should ask her if she thinks so.”

December 30th

Wooyoung

Rather than give into his impatience, Wooyoung stews on his mom’s advice. And each passing hour conveniences him more and more she’s wrong. Especially when San and Yeosang sit with him in their cramped living room, bottles of beer and empty takeout littering the coffee table.

“You’re pathetic.”

“Fuck you.” Wooyoung responds.

San, red faced and tipsy, slaps the leather armrests of the chair before rising.“Fuck you! You broke up with her over nothing and instead of trying to get her back you have a fucking pity party? Grow a pair.”

“She doesn’t want me!”

“Did you ask her?” 

“I don’t have to!”

“You’re an idiot.” Yeosang butts in.

Wooyoung knows his hesitation speaks for itself when Yoesang keeps talking.

“You can ask her to pretend you’re still dating but you can’t tell her you wanna get back together?”

“It’s not that easy!”

“Yes it is!” San argues. “You love her right? You care about her?” San doesn’t continue until Wooyoung nods. “Then she has a right to know.”

“What if she says no?”

“Then she says no. Cross that bridge when you get there. You’re already broken up, how much worse can it get?”

Surprisingly, Wooyoung agrees. He sits forward, looking at his roommates before asking.“So what do I do?”

December 31st

Wooyoung

When Wooyoung’s messages go unanswered and his calls fall into the abyss of Y/N’s full voicemail box, pulls out Plan B.

Unfortunately, Plan B has no moral or ethical oppositions to castrating him.

“Go fuck yourself!”

“Lisa, please!” Wooyoung begs into the phone.

“No! Not once but twice I’ve had Y/N crying on my couch because of your dumbass. I’m not letting it happen again!”

“I need to talk to her. Please just help me!”

“What makes this time so different?”

“I—,” Wooyoung freezes. What does make this time different?

He hears Lisa sigh on the other end of the phone, almost as if she’s disappointed. “Just leave her alone, Wooyoung.”

And the line clicks dead.

Walking back into the kitchen from the worst call of his life, Wooyoung spots San’s downcast face while Yeosang watches him from the table; both clearly overhearing his exchange with Y/N’s best friend.

The vinyl table top shakes as Wooyoung drops his forehead down with a bang, groaning in frustration. 

“She’s working at NewYork-Presbyterian.” Yeosang mentions, returning to munch on his bowl of cereal.

“What?”

“Y/N works at NewYork-Presbyterian.”

“How do you know that?”

Shrugging, Yeosang takes another bite and swallows before explaining. “She told me she got a job there when she was planning to move back.” 

Wooyoung has Yeosang’s shirt in his hands in a flash, nose to nose with his lifelong friend. Never in his life has Wooyoung been so furious with the man before him.

“You knew this whole time?” He bites, his eyes so wide with anger the whites show.

San is at Wooyoung's back, winding his arms around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him off their other roommate.

“You knew all of this and you didn’t fucking tell me? You’re my friend!” Attempting to shake him off, Wooyoung keeps pressing forward. 

Yeosang rises to his feet, hands wrapping around Wooyoung’s wrists and squeezing till the pain forces him to let go. “Yeah, and you’re acting like a real asshole right now!”

“Guys calm down!” San yells, managing to pull Wooyoung back now that he’s no longer attached to Yeosang’s shirt.

“Why didn't you say something?”

“You ended an eight year relationship out of the blue, I wasn’t about to let you get back with her just because you decided being single wasn’t your thing anymore.”

The words slap Wooyoung in the face. Even his own friend’s don’t trust him not to hurt Y/N anymore. “I’m not— I wouldn’t,”

“Come on, Woo. All you could talk about was how excited you were to ask her to marry you and then you come home and tell us you broke up with her. She’s my friend too and I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“So why are you telling me now?”

“Because you were desperate enough to call Lisa. If you fuck up again she’ll actually kill you.”

Wooyoung isn’t going to mess up again, not if he can help it. And if he does, he’ll walk straight into the river before Lisa can force him.

But for now, he focuses on getting Y/N to listen to his apology.

January 1st

Y/N

Chief complaint: Father reports patient’s fever and cough have become more severe since previous visit. Reports child is refusing solids but drinking well and taking soft foods such as apple sauce. Sleeping okay.

One of the residents pops her head into your office, “Dr. Y/L/N you have a delivery at the reception desk.”

“Thank you!” You call, not missing a beat as you continue your notes. 

Impression: Upper respiratory infection, right otitis media

Plan: Amoxicillin prescribed, five day follow up with p.r.n. at PCP.

Finishing your chart, you rise and head out towards the receptionist desk. A familiar bouquet of blush pink tulips greet you, a silk white ribbon knotted around the dip of the crystal vase. A small envelope is tucked into the spread, sending a terrified jolt through your system.

“I wish I had someone send me flowers as pretty as this!” Jessica sighs, eying the arrangement enviously.

“Yeah,” you laugh, unable to muster an ounce of false humor.

You snatch the bouquet before turning back the direction you came. 

Once back into the safety of your office, door shut and blinds drawn, you open the note.

If you don’t want to see me ever again, I’ll let you go. But I can't say enough how every time I ever put my arms around you I felt that I was home. I’ll be waiting at our spot on Saturday. As long as it takes.

–W

You don’t realize you’re crying until the ink of the note begins to bleed. 

January 3rd

Wooyoung

Wooyoung is the first customer to enter the cozy coffee shop overlooking the southeast entrance of Tompkins Square Park at nine a.m., claiming the tiny wobbly table off in the corner that provides the perfect view of the door. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. It feels wrong to scroll through his phone as he waits so he snags one of the artsy newspapers sitting on the counter while the surly barista prepares his order.

After an hour, adrenalin maintains the pleasant buzz through Wooyoung’s system, fueled further by espresso on an empty stomach. Each chime of the bell over the door results in awkward eye contact with a stranger that certainly isn’t his ex-girlfriend.

After three hours, his butt is numb and Wooyoung’s abandoned the newspaper he’s memorized. The NYT mini crossword archive isn’t as extensive as he thought.

After six hours, he’s had enough coffee to power a jet plane and his leg jitters aggressively. He’s started people watching through the window, making up stories for passersby entering the park and crossing the street. Half his heart hopes they’re happier than he is, the other half hopes he’s not alone in his misery.

When he’s been at the shop for eleven and a half hours, burned through every source of distraction possible and can describe in vivid detail the features outside the glass wall that separate the inside of the cafe from the sidewalk, Wooyoung accepts that she isn’t coming.

He stays till close, every minute that ticks on a drop in the bucket of regret in his heart. The barista starts stacking chairs, passive aggressively swiping the frayed broom in a ring around his table, so Wooyoung does the sensible thing and waits outside. 

The bitter wind wafting through the city finds home in his bones despite his thermals and padded parka. Wooyoung desperately clings to the tiny drop of hope still clinging to his heart. Shaking from the chill and overindulgence in caffeine Wooyoung watches as the clock hits nine. 

She isn’t coming.

She doesn’t want him back.

Wooyoung watches a couple laugh in each other's embrace across the street, clambering over one another in amused content. There was time that would have been him and Y/N, high from the intoxicating joy of one another’s presence and the city lights in the winter. Fingers interlocked as they trapeze through crowds, ignoring every other soul in favor of focusing on each other.

Eyes stinging, he turns to head for the train station but nearly shouts as spots the woman in question ten paces away.

Her hair is a mess, nose and cheeks blushing from the cold, breath obscuring her face as it fogs in the cool air. But she’s here, looking every bit unsure as he feels.

“Hi.” He says, dumbfounded.

“Hi.”

“You came.”

“I did.”

Wooyoung might faint. His heart is beating a mile a minute, breath shallow and labored. She’s here. She’s here and she’s looking at him like that. And the fear creeps into his pause.

“I’m sorry.” He warbles.

“I know.”

But she can’t so he says it again.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You keep saying that.”

Because he can’t think of anything else. Nine hours of going over the grand speech about how he missed her and how breaking up with her was the greatest regret of his life flies out the window now that she’s in front of him and willing to listen.

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

“No.”

“Then talk to me, Woo.”

The only thing she’s ever asked him for is the truth. Wooyoung’s been so afraid that if he tells her how he truly feels, she’ll think less of him. That being so in love it terrifies you is disgusting, pathetic. 

“I don’t know where to start.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Since they opened.”

“Why?”

“Because if you came I didn’t want to miss you.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“Why did you?”

“Because—,” she pauses, shaking her head. “I don’t know.”

“I had a whole speech prepared.”

“Really?” She smiles apprehensively.

“Yeah, but now that you’re here I don’t remember any of it.”

“Then just tell me the truth, Woo.”

“I’m an idiot.”

Laughing at his outburst, she nods at him. “That’s a start.” 

And the space between them grows a little warmer.

“That night at dinner, when I went to the bathroom, I got an email.” Wooyoung starts, stepping closer. “I’d applied for a grad school program and I thought I was gonna get in but … I didn’t. And I think that and the nerves from proposing just caught up to me. I thought you’d want to stay in Boston after all and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to move back here. And it snowballed and all those feelings of not being good enough came back and— When you didn’t say anything, didn’t ask why or try to argue with me I thought it meant it’s what you wanted too.”

Shame flushes through him, a tsunami of disgust for allowing himself to think so poorly of her. Y/N never made him feel less than. The only person in their relationship who thought he wasn’t good enough for her was him and he let that destroy everything in a second of self doubt. 

“I tried to convince myself I did you a favor. That you’d be better off without me and you’d meet someone better. Find someone good enough for you. But I was wrong. I am wrong. There hasn't been a single day since we met that I don’t think about you. Even when I try not to, you’re always in the back of my mind. And then I think about how selfish I am for wanting you back. But when it comes to you I’ve always been a little selfish because I love you. And—” he breaths for the first time. “And I don’t know how to be me without you.”

The humor is gone from Y/N’s face. Her beautiful eyes brim with tears, rimmed red not unlike his own; chin shaking. The wind is louder than ever now, cars wheel sloshing across the wet pavement crashing between them.

“Please say something.”

“How do I trust you again?” Her voice cracks, and it knocks the air from Wooyoung’s lungs.

“I don’t know.” Wooyoung looks at the ground, guilt-ridden.

Everything, all of the pain and heartbreak, was his fault. He dug them into this mess and now he doesn’t know how to get them out.

Y/N

Seeing Wooyoung, the man with an answer for everything, admit for once he doesn’t have an elaborate plan in motion to win you back is refreshing. You didn’t want Wooyoung who’d fix everything, Wooyoung who’d carry the burden of your relationship by himself even if it killed him. All you wanted was for him to tell you the truth.

And now that he has, you’re done being apart.

Nearly topping to the ground as you tackle Wooyoung in a fierce hug, you focus on inhaling his cologne and basking in the feel of his body pressed firmly against you. He barely manages to steady your combined weight, feet scrambling to regain his balance on the icy sidewalk.

“Don’t you ever do that shit to me again!” You yell, arms squeezing around his waist.

Wooyoung hesitates for a moment, clearly shocked at the turn of events. Rising out of his chest, you look at his gaping mouth and furrowed brows before his arms knot around your shoulders. 

“I missed you.” You whisper into the delicate kiss you land on his lips.

“I love you.” Wooyoung whispers back, forehead resting against your own.

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

Four months later

Central Park in May is a bustle of people enjoying warm days following months of slushy snow and gray skies. Shrill screams bounce off the trees as children dart across the walkways, giggling groups of friends crowd around blankets on the greening grass, and a menagerie of dogs zigzag around their owners in the fresh air.

Today is a rare day where they both can spend interrupted hours lounging in one another’s presence, eager to make up for years of long distances and the months neither likes to talk about. Wooyoung woke Y/N with innumerable kisses across any sliver of skin his lips could find, basking in the knowledge today he’d finally ask the question hanging from the tip of his tongue since this time last year.

Sprawled across an old throw blanket, skin warming in the afternoon sunshine, a thick book obscures her face from view as Y/N rests her head in his lap. Wooyoung tries not to check his pocket for the millionth time this afternoon, ensuring the little velvet box is still there. He isn’t worried she’ll say no. But the phantom fear from the last time he planned to ask creeps up no matter how many affirmations he silently repeats in his head. But when she looks up at him, crinkled eyes visible just above the edge of the book pages hiding her smile, Wooyoung forgets all his worries.

Plucking the book from her grasp, he carefully marks her place before setting it down beside her hip. Wooyoung folds in half to silence her protesting “hey!” with a kiss, humming when she gives in all too easily. 

“I was reading that.” She mumbles as they separate.

“Wow, you’d rather read some smutty book than kiss your real life boyfriend?”

Laughing, she presses another peck to his mouth before answering.“Glad you understand.”

“What about your fiance?”

Y/N smile melts into shock, mouth gaping and staring at him like a deer in headlights.

Wooyoung smoothly maneuvers her up and out of his lap, pulling the jewelry box from his pocket as he kneels on a lone knee.

“Y/N. You’re my favorite person in the world. The only person I can ever imagine spending the rest of my life with. I love when you sing in the shower, and how you put way too much sugar in your coffee. I love how smart you are, and how you’re nice to everyone even if they don’t deserve it,  me included. And how everytime I look at you my palms get sweaty and that just thinking about you makes my day better. You are the love of my life. Will you marry me?”

Wooyoung is shaking so violently he fumbles the velvet box twice during his speech. He drops it a third time when Y/N tackles him in a fierce hug, tear filled laughter spilling from their lips and into the field where they lay. 

“Yes!” She squeals into his neck, “Yes, I’d love to marry you.”

At dinner with all their friends, he subconsciously holds Y/N’s hand so the diamond glints at anyone looking. When Wooyoung walks home, giggly from champagne and love, he kisses her knuckles a ridiculous amount of times just to feel the cool band under his lips. Once inside the doorway of her apartment, Wooyoung crowds Y/N against the door; his thumb focusing on the bevel of the diamond sitting on her ring finger as his other hand pushes the strap of her sundress off her shoulder so his tongue etch her collarbone from dip of her throat where the locket he gave her for their first Christmas together rests to under her ear. 

“So, future Mrs. Jung, now that we’re alone, how would you like to celebrate?” He asks, nipping against the sensitive skin she sighs, chest arching into his own.

“What if I wanna keep my last name?”

“Is that what you’re focusing on right now?” Wooyoung asks, a strong thigh moving between her parted legs.

“Yeah, future Mr.Y/L/N. I don’t think there’s anything else to discuss right n—fuck, Youngie.”

Wooyoun can’t help but giggle at her reaction, rocking again just to hear her moan his name once more. 

“What were you saying?”

“Don’t,” she huffs, whimpering at another torturous drag. Wooyoung can feel the heat of her cunt through her panties and his jeans. “Don’t be mean to your future wife.”

“Love when you talk dirty.” He bites, teeth raking against the strained muscle raising from the side of her neck.

“That turns you on? Calling me your wife?”

“Feel for yourself.”

“And if I call you my husband?”

Wooyoung doesn’t dignify her question with an answer other than sprinting to the bedroom to demonstrate just how much he likes the new name.

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[thew1ldblueyonder]

Forehead kisses are for friends?

Here's the thing about Robin and Steve; their friendship is one of a kind, and to the untrained eye their tactlessness, emotional and physical closeness could signal something romantic. But Eddie knows well that's not the case.

He does notice how much of their casual interactions go against the norm of platonic: sleeping in the same bed, sleeping on each other's laps, etc., but Eddie has never cared much about the norm. He himself goes very much against it, still a one man army facing off against conformity every day, at least in the little things.

The problem comes when he has to place himself into the equation that is Robin & Steve.

It happens like this:

Eddie hosts movie night. Normally Steve does, but this time he really wanted to do it. It seemed like a good idea.

Him, Jonathan, Argyle and Steve could smoke up a couple of joints - God knows they're all desperately in need of a distraction - and maybe Nancy would join in too - and if Nancy joins, Robin does too - and what better place to do that than at his trailer? The whole place already smells slightly of weed and the neighbors don't give a shit about it.

It's also a point of pride for him. Yes, the trailer is small. But it's alright. And he wants his newfound friends to find a home there, too. He wants to feel a little useful, at least.

So, people start arriving. Nancy drives Robin up, Jonathan and Argyle come together. Argyle is already spacey. Eddie's got the movie prepped, snacks on the table, and four traumatized monster hunters restlessly huddling up on his couch, and around it. He has placed some cushions on the floor as makeshift sitting places.

It's only Steve that's missing.

Robin and him are sitting on the floor, an empty cushion reserved for him between them, and she looks as restless as he feels.

See, Eddie's been kind if permanently on edge since the upside-down bullshit. He needs these people to be in places where they're supposed to be, when they're supposed to be. The whole thing kinda made him a control freak, sue him. But when his people are where he can see them he knows they're not in trouble. He knows they aren't getting pulled into the air, bones snapping like twigs...

When the door opens and Steve steps through with an apologetic smile Eddie lets out a relieved sigh. Robin perks up, and before Steve could even finish his explanation for his tardiness - something about keys, but Eddie thinks he's lying and would bet that he's just had a bad hair day and has been spending way too much time trying to fix it - she reaches for him, like a child wanting to be picked up.

Steve goes to her immediately, grabs her hands gently, and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

Not unusual. Eddie almost chuckles at the sweet and casual display of affection, ready to be jokingly snarky, to urge Steve to sit down, finally.

Except, faced with Steve Harrington, placing two hands on the side of his head and bending down, his head quiets immediately. It happens in an instant. Steve reaches down, and kisses him between his eyebrows, redirecting his bangs with one hand. It's short, and thank god for that, because Eddie stops breathing entirely for the duration of the thing. Just a quick platonic smack of lips.

He doesn't even notice the way Eddie sucks in a breath, frozen in place. Doesn't seem to see how he stays frozen, even after Steve sits down next to him, chatting idly with Argyle, leaning back against his leg. He's entirely unaware of his emotional turmoil.

Eddie blinks, his head fuzzy. The feeling of soft lips against his forehead still lingering. He looks ahead of him, and then looks at Robin, who's already watching him. She has an expression of curiosity, that he unfortunately cannot satisfy at all.

Steve doesn't kiss anybody else on the forehead.

Eddie spends the whole night thinking about it.

Was it just because he was also on the floor? Was it a bit? Did he somehow become part of the weird symbiosis that's Robin & Steve? Is he a platonic soulmate now?

Can he not be?

Can he get another kiss? (Preferably on the mouth.)

[agentlizardofowca]

I can't copy the shape because mobile, but I'd love a DVD Bonus for "Store Your Nemesis Under Your Bed"!

(HumanPerryAU Takes place after the ending of Store your nemesis under your bed: Phineas just admitted that Perry hid a mysterious man under his bed. To avoid having to talk about it, Perry ran away and hid in his bedroom. Link to the fic for those who are curious)

Candace cornered them with tense shoulders and flashing eyes. There was a sharpness to her that set Ferb on edge. Curiosity he expected, but the hard line of her eyebrows was obsessive.

"Tell me about the man." She breathed the words hard and rushed into the space between her and the brothers.

Mom and Dad were upstairs, trying to coax Perry out of his bedroom, where he'd escaped to after Phineas spilled his dirty secret.

"I didn't see him, Candace." Phineas said in a happy tone, completely unaware of the tension in their sister's shoulders. "Ferb pointed it out to me."

Candace swiped her hair over the other shoulder and gazed at Ferb. She knew he usually preferred to let other people do the talking, so she usually posed her questions to the room at large.

Ferb appreciated this. He liked it even more that every once in a while Candace broke that pattern to include him.

What do you think Ferb? Or Are you okay? Candace wasn't just curious, she was also very genuine. Something she and Phineas had in common. Ferb loves his siblings so much.

"I couldn't see him very well, he was under the bed."

"But you knew he was there?"

"I could see his eyes."

Candace parted her lips, but Ferb already knew what to say.

"Blue."

Candace hummed. "I wonder who he was."

"Do you think Uncle Perry will tell us?" Phineas asked optimistically as if their uncle hadn't just fled from the dining table.

"Why did he feel so guilty? It's not like we don't know he likes men. Did Dad forbid him to take his boyfriends home? He wouldn't," She scrunched her nose as she thought. "Right?"

"You think that was his boyfriend?" Phineas asked and he tapped the tip of his nose as he pondered. Romance had always been a mystery to Phineas, and apparently, the concept of their uncle having a love life was foreign to him. Isabella was fighting an uphill battle.

"Who else would he hide away under his bed?" Candace asked as if she genuinely wanted a serious answer.

Phin shrugged. "They could just be friends I guess."

"Maybe he secretly ordered pizza, just for himself." Ferb joked.

"That still doesn't explain why." Candace squinted the way she did before she was going to make someone else's business her own. She ignored Ferb's last remark and left the room to go join her parents at Perry's door.

Ferb just shrugged, they weren't going to figure it out unless Perry wanted them to know. And if Ferb knew one thing about his uncle, it was that he was good at keeping secrets.

Phineas wished Candace good luck as she stalked out of the room. "There is no way Perry is going to let them in now." He point out to Ferb, who nodded in agreement. A moment later he paused as he noticed something peculiar over Phineas' shoulder.

A slipper landed in the grass outside the window.

Ferb angled his head to see. He recognised it, and his eyebrows rose in bewilderment. Was Perry really that desperate to escape?

A moment later, a foot lowered from the roof. Another moment later a second foot followed, this one was wearing a matching slipper to the one in the grass.

Only one person in this family would be crazy enough to climb out the window and jump off the roof.

Ferb watched with amusement as Perry landed with a soft thunk on the deck outside. He hopped to collect his slipper and put it on.

By now both brothers were  both staring out the window, watching this happen.

Perry knew they were there, so he waved when he turned around.

Obviously they waved back, they weren't rude.

Phineas hopped off his chair to opened the sliding door. "So, what's the plan?"

Perry scratched at his hair and shrugged awkwardly. 「Ice cream?」 He offered.

Ferb allowed him and Phineas to be herded into Perry's car. It wasn't until they were about to leave the driveway that Candace and her parents popped their heads outside. Phineas happily waved them adieu as they drove off.

[punkeropercyjackson]

I want to know everything about Nia!

AND MONTHS LATER,YOU ARE FINALLY GETTING HIM!!!!

Nia The Dragon Nomad,born just Nia,just Nia and is 16 at the start of the series

His version of the franchise is called 'Avatar:The Airbender Legacies' and it's 4 books instead of 3 and the 4th one is 'Book 4:Air'

He's half Air Nomad,half Fire Nation but specifically the black etchnic subgroup in the comics you helped me discover which is what led to his creation!!As pointed out by jewish Atla fans,it would be more realistic for the AN to have a small surviving population that went into hiding after the Air Nomad Genocide and Nia's mom is a descendant of them!His parents names are Yung and Dahla and Nia's mixed heritage is symbolism for the coming era of peace

Nia was born in the Fire Nation as lower class,Dahla a homemaker and Yung a chef at the Fire Nation Palace.Dahla has Air Nomad features but never practiced her culture for safety so nobody could point it out without sounding like a maniac and Yung's job led to Nia meeting Zuko when they were 4 years old and becoming best friends and keeping it a secret since Zuko and Azula weren't allowed to befriend 'peasents'(hence why Ozai encouraged Azula to only interact with Mai and Ty Lee).Nia was unaware of not being fully FN but his dad was one of the first prisoner's of The Boiling Rock for a crime he didn't commit and this led to to his mom using Airbending publicly to try to stop him from being taken away so the next day,their house was burned down with her in it by Fire Nation supremacists and Nia being only 13 at the time had no choice but to run away and become a Nomad,leaving Zuko a tear stainned letter in pink ink explaining what happened and telling him how much he loved him as a person and for being his best friend(Nia wouldn't find out Dahla had been an Air Nomad for a long time,not being present when she bended and Zuko got a lot meaner after he left since he was his only real loved one due to Ursa's dissaperance and desperately looked for clues on him,seeing him everywhere even though he was gone)

Nia learned firebending on his own and made a name for himself on his travels by helping people with kindness and resources and fighting for them,committing various anti-imperialist crimes.During this time,he realized he's trans and is a woman and a man at the same time and his gender presentation is very feminine but he uses only masculine ponouns!!He's also autistic,adhd,mdd and anxious and his hair is 4b textured

Personality wise,Nia is very much an Air Nomad-He's super bubbly,openly kind and gentle,silly,optimistic,unrestrained and open-minded.He follows the no kill rule as a buddhist but also believes in severe brutality and has anger issues,low self-eestem and a snarky sense of humor,is very older sisterly/pseudo-momish as a coping mechanism from having almost no positive adult figures as a kid and being picked on by other kids and even adults all the time and his interests are pink/pastel things,suncakes,art,games,animal life and dancing!!!

He's introduced in 'The Warriors of Kyoshi' as he was on Kyoshi Island due to his travels and joins the Gaang because of his instant platonic connection with Aang.Aang says there's something familiar about Nia he can't quite place and he takes on the mom friend title instead of Katara since he's the eldest now and actually did it to himself instead of parentification like her.The two girls bond over being feminine and him and Sokka bicker all the time due to opposite personalities but they really are friends and Kataang is still a thing here so Nia wingmans them

It takes a hot minute for Zunia to reunite(as in several episodes)but Zuko gets hints to it through reports from his crew and is in denial of it at first only because he dosen't want his hopes to be crushed.We get flashbacks to their childhood days,including Zuko drawing both of them as dragons and Nia making strawberry suncakes for the first time for them to share as foreshadowing and this makes their reunion all the more upsetting because they don't even recognize eachother at first due to Nia's complete style change and Zuko's scar,plus the puberty,on top of his old best friend hunting down his new best friend at the order of his dad who he always made him feel safe from.There's a lot of tears and yelling and Nia has to be comforted by his honorary younger siblings afterwards and Zuko has to pretend nothing happened for the sake of not putting him in danger

Nia's very strong and smart so he's a pretty useful addition to The Gaang and provides comedy/jokes too and Aang tells him about The Air Nomads for funsies which leads to

The 'Dahla was actually an Air Nomad' drops happens in 'The Avatar State' when Aang and Nia are trying to figure out Avatar stuff together and it leds to spiritual magic jizz revealing it through Nia's soul.They're heavily shocked but Aang bursts into happy tears and tackle hugs Nia,rambling about how happy he is that he's not actually The Last Airbender and Nia smiles and agrees,telling him he already thinks of him as his little brother and Aang views him as his older sister so they officially dub eachother 'The Flight Siblings',Sokka telling them it's a stupid name and Katara drops water him for it.In 'The Blue Spirit',Nia had romantic moments with Zuko in his Blue Spirit suit so he gains a dreamy crush on him that's played for irony and second-hand embarrasment humor.Aang becomes Nia's Airbender Master starting in 'Nomads,Leafs and Forevers' and this strengthens their bond big time

Nia rejected Jet's attempted flirtatiouns on first meeting by saying 'I came here to make friends-Only friends so instead of trying something,try covering my back' and they got along well from then on even post 'betrayal',Toph dissed him at first because of how girly Nia but after they actually talked they clicked perfectly,'The Tale of Nia' replaces Iroh's section and it's about him saving a group of kids from Earth Kingdom propaganda by impressing them and being sweet to them and it's implied they grew up to be freedom fighters and 'The Tale of Zuko' is a gag bit where girls keep trying to hit on him but he keeps comparing them to Nia subcounciously so none of them stick,Ty Lee let's out a loud squee when she meets Nia again face to face and squishes him up in a hug as she says she's missed seeing his pretty pink face(platonically)and Mai drawls that he's gotten even weirder and Azula adresses him as 'Nini' when she was younger but also 'The Avatar's babysitter' now and they don't know eachother at all well since Ozai didn't even know about Nia being best friends with his son

Jet survives his attempted assisination by the Dai Li and joins the Gaang as it's 'token bad' teammate(not really,he's just genuinely radical).The shippy undertones between him and Katara are gone as they turn into platonic close friends and he acts as the cool bitchy but reliable older brother.Hama is also never villanized but potrayed as a tragic figure and a badass who gets reperations from the Fire Nation and basically adopts the Gaang as her grandkids,Katara still being scared of Bloodbending and choosing not to kill Yon Rha so Hama does the job for her since Kya was her childhood friend's daughter and she's built for killing fascists already,not being only 14.Yung and Dahla are given big significance on Nia's story as his parents and how they influenced him as a person like Zuko and their own life experiences did and 'The Dragon Nomad' is a title given to him pre-series because of being a traveling firebender but also has a double meaning that wasn't even intentional in-universe and there's quips about it as a running gag

Nia's none too eager to return to The Fire Nation but powers through and teaches his teammates how to blend in and takes them to a clothing store he used to go to as a kid and they have a positive talk with the owner not recognizing them until they all leave and as they exited,they make a comical expression and whisper 'I always knew that kid wasn't dead!I don't think that little airhead can even die!'.As they settle in,Nia can't help but go visit where his old home used to be to see nobody had even bothered picking things up or replacing it with a new building and it makes them tear up and he brakes down on his knees,screaming about how much he hates fire as he breathes pink flames from his mouth and dosen't even notice.He stays that way for a solid onscreen 30 seconds and is found by Zuko who frantically picks him up and hides him in an ally with him before soldiers can find him.He dosen't get to comfort him for long as Nia fully registers the situation and shoots up,curtly saying with a glare 'Thanks for the shoulder to cry on,Zuko'.Hope you're enjoying your new life perfect life without me' and runs off back to the Gaang's temporary residence and Zuko dosen't even bother getting up,struggling to find the words until Nia's too far to hear him,yelling out 'BUT IT'S NOT MY LIFE WITHOUT YOU!YOU'RE THE CLOSEST THING I'VE EVER HAD TO PERFECT!'

Nia infilters the Royal Fire Academy For Girls and disrupts everything as he encourages the other female students to fight for their rights and proves to them the anti-Air Nomad things they were taught are lies and burned the academy down using his pink fire and his new friends help out with their own firebending.He cracks a couple eggs on the way too and 'The Beach' confirms Mai as a comphet lesbian,Tyzula as a mutually canon ship even if they don't get together and Nia is on Zuko's mind a lot and the fun summer-y setting he's in dosen't help.Nia's swimsuit is a pastel pink two piece and he has a crown of matching hisbiscus him and Aang made for eachother

Zuko and Nia finally make up in 'The Western Air Temple' as Zuko's decided to give up evil by becoming Aang's Firebending Master.Katara immediately rejects him as per canon,Aang welcomes him with open arms as always and Nia dosen't really know what to do with him.Zuko does his best to reassure him he's truly changed for the better in both words and actions and tries to recreate what they were like as kids until Nia puts his foot down and tells him 'We're not the same as we used to be........And i'm okay with that.I love the Zuko here like i did the old one' and Zuko's entire face goes beet red and Aang connects the dots and grins cheekily as he had a feeling they were a thing from the start.They act as the Team Mom and Team Dad of The Gaang or 'The Dragon Parents/Dadko and Momia' and Katara makes a snide comment on how she'd be expected to be with Zuko over Nia by the public

'The Boiling Rock' has Nia,Zuko and Sokka rescuing Yung and Hakoda and a conversation between Nia and Azula as they fight that's basically just Nia going 'You're not a perfect sexy calculated villaness,you're 14 with an abusive fascist dad and you deserve a therapist and some goddamn friends and fruit pies so you can calm down' and Azula responding 'FUCK YOU MEAN???NUH UH!!!!' and Yung and Nia have a heartwarming reunion and he eventually legally adopts Aang,Jet and Toph since they don't have living/good parents like the Water Tribe Siblings do.Nia's Ember Island Player counterpart is played by a nonblack actor who jokes about having no gender and reminders everyone he's still half Fire Nation not JUST Air Nomad because they're 'both equally important' and Nia'd never cringed harder in his life.Kataang went a bit differently since Aang asked Nia for romance advice since him and Zuko were unspokenly unofficially together so their only season 3 kiss is the finale one and the remaining run time is used on developing the other characters,including The Air Nomads in flashbacks.Nia is given a half dragon soul as a blessing by Avatar Wan to help Aang and it dosen't actually take much adjusment for him to get used to it

Mai and Ty Lee came to Nia on the Day Of Sozin's Comet to help him takedown Fire Nation Soldiers and the three girls fought viciously and had banter and peer support.They're nicknamed 'The Riot Gyals' and Ty Lee still joins the Kyoshi Warriors while Mai takes up a blacksmithing mentorship and Nia grows up to found his own children's education and protection system called 'Nia's Kidbender Program' that was built up by him with big help from Zuko but first,we get to Book 4 aka Book Air,which is something of a playable epilogue in cartoon episodes form of that makes sense and an improved version of the comics where we see The Gaang's lives and their world post-Ozai.This includes Kataang's dating dynamic,finding Ursa again,how they further helped the world with even more activism and direct action,Toph realizing she's a transmasc girl instead of just a tomboy,Nia being the Aang to Azula's Zuko by befriending her and thus her gaining character development that leads to a redemption arc and finally dating Ty Lee and last but not least,Zunia getting together

Like Kataang,it happens in the last episode of the season and the ultimate series finale but in the opening so it's almost entierly about Aang and how far he's come and Zuko and Nia being boygirlfriend and girlboyfriend it's titled 'Air,Fire,Dragon,Love' with the last word being about Zunia,The Flight Siblings and The Peace Brothers since their love for eachother is equally strong and important cosmically.The previous episode was a cliffhanger of Zuko asking Aang for help since he knows Nia as well as he does and them doing a grand romantic display with pink,dragon and summer themes that looked ridicioulous and Nia is pleasently stunned speechless and they think he hated it until he bursts outlaughing and drags Zuko off to start their date as he yells over his shoulder to Aang that he loves him and is proud of him and then calls Zuko 'such an old lord' for the cheesy display and he sputters back that he was trying to treat him like the future Fire Lady.It's Nia's turn to blush,entire face glowing like a pink version of The Avatar State and it's Zuko's rare turn to be the cocky one but as always it dosen't last for him

Their date consists of doing both romantic Fire Nation traditions and romantic Air Nomad traditions,including Zuko gifting Nia Air Nomad earrings he made with Aang's guidance.There's zero restrainment in their pda except not kissing until they get back to the Fire Palace and lean in for their first kiss at the same time which turns into several more chaste kisses and we get a final narration that's done by the entire Gaang in bits,flashing forward to their older years and we see Aang and Katara's wedding amongst many other things and this includes Zuko and Nia having a daughter named Zara

And 'The Airbender Legacies' refers to Aang and Nia for obvious reasons but also Aang choosing to keep their culture alive by not killing Ozai and Zara herself as the first Air Nomad born in a long ass time who'd live without persecution

@nogender-onlystars @moonage-gaydream @refrigeratedboombursts @cam24fan @biandbored @sarasanddollar @insomniac-jay @floof-ghostie @9ragonmew @mayameanderings @fandomunsexyman

[sunshine-theseus]

Follow | Alex Chidiac x Reader

Word count: 2.3k Summary: you hate Alex Chidiac. Until you don’t Warnings: angst, fluff, I swear I’ll try to do non-angsty stuff soon this is for @charligrantismygirlfriend - feel free to send requests

Alexandra Chidiac made me want to rip my hair out and simultaneously smash my lips against her own. She was just so full of herself and insulting and… extremely beautiful and funny. But she had a way of making me despise her without even trying.

And it seemed that wherever I went, she would follow.

The first time we’d played together outside The Matildas was in Madrid.

In the 2017/18 January transfer window, I moved from Perth Glory to play for Atletico Madrid. 7 months later and Alex was sat in the cubby next to me in the locker room, telling jokes and connecting with the team, something I’d been struggling with despite having been there significantly longer and being able to speak Spanish.

During my time at Atletico, I had become reserved and preferred to stick to only going between my house and the training grounds, even if asked to join for celebrations or team bonding. It’s when I began to hate Alex.

Then during Covid, I’d decided to move back to Australia. Melbourne City had been the closest club to my hometown that had made an offer, so I packed my bags and went back to Australia. How I’d missed the news that Alex was moving there too was beyond me, but I found myself in a similar situation as Madrid. I was excited to play with some girls I was already friends with and have people to spend time with between quarantine and games. But Alex had managed to capture everyone’s attention again. The friends I had, began to rush over to Alex instead of me and I’d be left desperately searching for a partner in warmups because they wanted to be around her.

Then she was put on loan to Melbourne Victory for the next few years and I managed to escape her presence outside of National camps and games for a while. People liked to ask why I avoided her so much, especially Tony and Sam, because “getting along with the whole team is important”. I never really had an answer.

It was really only toward the end of the World Cup that the ‘rivalry’, as I so graciously named it, began actually affecting my game play and the team as a whole.

Alex and I were paired up for some exercises, but I was stubborn. She was so annoying.

So stupid, so rude, so pretty, her smile was so bright. I don’t understand why I have a crush on someone I despise so deeply.

So, while doing some passing and skill practice, I found myself playing and passing harsher than required as Alex made small comments about my abilities. And when Alex made a joke about it to Kyra and Mini who were next to us, both of whom told me off and to get over my issues with Alex, I’d made the decision I was done.

“Do you get off on making me feel shit?” I approach Alex, my finger poking her chest.

“Do you enjoy making sure I’m alone wherever I go? Did I do something to you 6 years ago that I’m unaware of that made you feel like you had to take everyone from my life?” I could feel 36 pairs of eyes on me. Have the whole crew always sat out with us?

I don’t get much time to think about it.

“Me?! You’re the one who’s always been in some fucking mood with me. Ever since Madrid you’ve just ignored any situation where I’m around. You hate me for no reason!”

“I only ignore you because you isolate me from every single team we’re on together. You show up and take my friends away from me and then have the audacity to shit talk my playing ability while I’m right in front of you but of course I’m the bad guy here. I’ll always be the bad guy!”

I then sarcastically add, “Oh and thank you Kyra and Mini for standing up for me. It’s really appreciated”. They look at the ground.

“Maybe I wouldn’t say that shit if you didn’t let your unwarranted emotions take a hold of you. You’re sloppy.” My arm is swinging before I can think of any consequences, but it’s caught midair, and I notice the familiar ‘20’ and kangaroo tattoos adoring my captain’s fingers.

“Let’s take a fucking walk.” I’m about to protest, say that Alex deserves to have a talking to as well, but Sam starts pushing me towards the tunnel before I can get anything out.

“Dude what the fuck is going through your head. I’ve known you for 7 years and you’ve never done anything like this.” I shrug in response.

“We play England tomorrow, and you’re a consistent starter, but if you and Alex are going to squabble like this and jeopardise us as a team, you might be benched for the rest of the cup.”

“You’re fucking kidding me. Sam you can’t do that!” We’ve reached the locker room.

“Y/n, you nearly punched Alex. I might be your friend but right now I’m you’re captain. I have to do what is best for the team.”

“Yeah… right… maybe I should head back to the hotel. It’s probably best I take a break.” Sam sighs and pulls me into a hug.

“I know you feel alone and that we’re against you, but I promise we aren’t. I’m going to talk to Alex with Tony. She’ll probably be sent back with you. You should talk, like adults and teammates. If you show that you won’t be distracted tomorrow, I’ll talk to Tony about subbing you on at half time or something. I do wish you’d mentioned how you feel earlier. Like years ago, earlier.” I simply nod.

“Thanks Sammy. I really am sorry for today. The team didn’t deserve that.”

Sam pats my back before going back down the tunnel and onto the pitch to talk to Alex and Tony, leaving me to get changed and get an uber back to the hotel.

~~~~~

It’s only about 40 minutes after I get to mine and Sam’s room at the hotel that I hear a knocking on the door. At first, I think it’s someone who has the wrong room, but they don’t stop knocking and soon I’m groaning as I drag my sock clad feet to the door to look through the peep hole. And there stands a slightly distorted Alex Chidiac who seems awfully nervous as she looks up and down the hallway.

“I know you’re in there Y/n! You know Sam said we have to talk so let’s talk.”

 She goes to knock again but I’m already swinging the door open.

“Yeah whatever let’s get it over with.” We move to sit down on the two beds facing each other.

It’s silent for a moment and neither of us look at the other, fiddling with our hands and the bed sheets. Alex is the first to break the silence.

“I don’t understand why you hate me so much or why you think I’m trying to turn people against you. I was super excited to join you in Madrid in 2018, to have someone I already knew, but you were always so cold.”

How do you tell someone after 6 years that you started hating them because you were jealous? That it took you 7 months to even feel comfortable at the club, just for it to be stripped away within the first week of them joining.

“I hate you because everyone loves you so much!” she gives me a confused look.

“I mean, it took me months to start fitting in at Atletico and you just swooped in and made everyone adore you and they stopped even trying to talk to me. And then when you followed me to City, all my friends I already had, dropped me to follow you around like lost puppies. I spent years alone because you were Ms Perfect to everyone, and I wasn’t social enough or carefree or noticeable or funny. Sam was all I had, and she wasn’t even really there. I don’t know.” I rub at my eyes to stop the tears that are inevitably forming behind them.

“And then you made those comments today and Kyra and Kat said nothing to defend me, they told me to get over it, and that was it for me. If I always have to be the bad guy in everyone’s story, I’ll be the bad guy”.

Alex reaches for my hand and I don’t pull back.

“I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I-” she pauses and seems to contemplate what she says next.

“What?”

“I followed you to Madrid and Melbourne because I liked you. I wanted to be with you, get to know you better. But after that year in Melbourne is seemed clear you hated me so I signed with JEF and went on loan to Victory.”

“Y- you liked me?”

“Well, it was hard not to. I still do. It was hard seeing you be so kind to everyone else, every time you played you looked so angelic, and I just couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’m sorry I made you feel like you were the bad guy. I should have talked to you about it all when we were in Madrid.”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me. Please. I like you too. Like so much and I’m sorry for being so horrible and cold to y-” I’m cut off my Alex, who pulls me up and grabs my face.

She’s significantly shorter than me so I have to lean down but I kiss her, hard.

“I’d say we talked enough to please Sam and Tony, right?” she whispers against my lips as my thumb traces the light freckles on her cheeks.

“Absolutely.”

She waists no time on pulling me down on the bed and as we giggle, cuddle and kiss, we loose track of time.

Before I know it, Sam is bursting through the door.

“I’m baaack you better have talked to Chi- o…h” she stumbles over her own bag as she sees Alex curled up against me, now fast asleep, as I trace shapes on her arm.

“Ok I know I said you gotta work it out, but this isn’t what I meant.” She plops down on her bed.

“Y-  yeah I wasn’t expecting it but she has a way with words.”

“Two hours ago her ‘way with words’ made you try to punch her in the face.”

“Yeah well, things changed.”

“Stay right there! I’m taking a picture to send to the group chat.”

“What!? Sam no!”

“Oh no not the team group chat” I sigh in relief. “The one with Kristie, E.V.E and Kate (emily’s wife)”

“SAM NO!” I try to slide my arm out from under Alex to grab Sam’s phone but it’s a worthless cause when the familiar sound of a message being sent is heard.

“I’m going to kill you when Alex wakes up.”

“Yuh huh ok. I’m going to call Kristie.”

“Tell her I say hi! And I hope Sammy M is doing well.”

~~~~~

Four days pass. We got knocked out by England and Sweden, finishing fourth overall in the World Cup. We all sat on the field as we watched Sweden get their bronze medals, I held Alex close to my side as I held Sam’s hand. We keep getting so close before a medal is ripped right from our grasp and we were all beginning to get tired of it, but Sam was taking it the hardest.

“I’m so proud of you Sammy. You weren’t even sure you’d get to play at the start, but you came back and lead us this far. We’re going to get to the Olympics and win the whole fucking thing.” She kisses me on the head before getting up to hug some of the girls before trying to find Kristie and her family in the crowd.

“I’m proud of you too.” I hear Alex whisper beside me.

I pull her up and hug her tight.

“I’ll always be proud of you too Al.”

I know there is a camera next to us but I kiss her anyway. Now I have her, I won’t let go of her any time soon.

~~~~~

Alex and I spend some time alone over the short rest of our break, only going between the beach that she unreasonably hated, and her apartment. We’d met up with Sam and Kristie for a sort of double date, before they both left to America for Sam’s birthday, and bid farewell to all the other girls who had to fly back to their respective clubs.

It was my last day before I had to fly back to my club. I’d been cooking dinner for a rather helpless Alex when her arms wrapped around my waist.

“I’m going to miss you so much when you leave.” She groans as she peppers kisses across my back.

I think I feel a hint of a smile on her lips but decide not to think too far into it.

“I’m going to miss you too. Especially your lips. And your cute freckles. And you’re pretty green eyes. Every. Single. Thing.” I peck her lips after each sentence.

“I promise to call every day.” I let out a hum.

“You can barely remember to have breakfast.”

“Hey! For you I’ll remember anything.” I just smile and kiss her once more.

Tomorrow I’d have to say goodbye, unable to see her for months on end.

~~~~~

“You’re fucking kidding me!” is yelled across the Tigres locker room as our late transfer walks through the door.

It’s non other than Alexandra Chidiac. My girlfriend who I thought I’d left behind to continue out her loan for Melbourne Victory after the world cup.

She won’t stop fucking following me.

[bitimdrake]

pssssst hey quick question on the dl - who is helena bartinelli??

i cannot answer anon questions on the dl, so answer on the up-high, which she deserves:

HUNTRESS

a.k.a. Helena Bertinelli, a.k.a. Gotham's coolest and most notable antihero, crossbow-wielder, and purple bat-associated vigilante.

Helena was born to an Italian mob family, but spent her childhood blissfully unaware of the family business--until her entire family was slaughtered in front of her when she was eight. She stayed with family overseas for the rest of her childhood, learning how to fight and protect herself.

She came back to Gotham for both vengeance and justice, and became one of Gotham's many vigilantes. Though her focus is on the mob, she'll step in to stop any crime.

She's also a schoolteacher! Good for her.

She is discerning in who she chooses to kill, but she does kill. As you can imagine, this put her at odds with Batman for a long time. Helena is pretty much the premiere example of Bruce trying to claim control over every vigilante in Gotham, no matter how little right he has. The argument on killing/ethics is valid, but his default was basically "do exactly what I say and fall in line under my command, or stop completely," which is why he's an asshole control freak and why I'm constantly mad about how she was treated 👍

She was an absolute mainstay of the Batfamily before Flashpoint (2011) and it is personally hurtful to me that people don't know her. (Like, to be frank? She had far more of a presence than Damian or (living) Jason in the post-crisis era.)

You could count on seeing her in any major Batfamily crossover, from Cataclysm to Battle for the Cowl.

She was central to the biggest Batfamily crossover ever, No Man's Land, where Gotham was locked off from the rest of the country and turned into a lawless wasteland. Bruce left to sulk for the first couple of months and in absence of any other vigilantes in the field (only Oracle having remained in the city), Helena donned the mantle of the Bat for herself to protect the city. And when Batman came back, in return for all she'd done, she got...yelled at, assigned impossible tasks and criticized for not achieving them, her costume stolen and given to someone else, lied to, abandoned in the face of impossible odds, and shot multiple times protecting kids. Absolute fucking hero, honestly.

She also was on the Justice League for a while, though admittedly I have barely touched that run. To my understanding, despite nominating her for the position, Bruce was also the one to revoke her membership there.

Fortunately! things improved!!

In the early/mid 2000s, Helena joined the Birds of Prey, Oracle's team, and found legit friendships and support there with teammates like Dinah Lance/Black Canary. She finally got more respect in the community, and had a much better time.

Additional relationships include:

A big sister/annoying little brother type thing with Tim, who may disapprove of her killing but simply likes making friends too much :)

A great relationship with Vic Sage/the Question

One single issue where she met Steph that presented SUCH interesting potential that I desperately wish had been followed up on

On and off romantic/sexual tension with Dick, depending on the writer, which culminated in a single hook up that apparently most people around here would rather pretend didn't happen, though I really don't think it's that bad

A complicated relationship with Barbara, partially due to clashing personalities and conflicting morals (with Babs being nearly as much of a control freak as Bruce), and partially due to a shared history with Dick because DC loves making women be catty

Surely others from her first solo or time on the JLA that I don't know well enough to list!

She's rad and determined and takes no shit but cares a lot, and I love her. We deserve more stories tying her teaching day job into her night work. We also deserve more stories with her in general.

If you would like additional Helena beyond just cruising my tag, I recommend:

Batman/Huntress: Cry for Blood - far more Huntress than Batman, this is a great 6-issue miniseries about Helena reckoning with her past, ft the Question.

Batman: No Man's Land - if you have the time for it, a big storyline but worth it.

Birds of Prey vol 1 (1999) - Helena starts to appear around issue #57 and becomes a central character from there.

[madsciencestudent]

Sorry, I'm over here thinking about Idyia and Rubra-Harenas and their meeting with the Arctic Saurians they do meet, and how the Blue Song empire is desperately looking for the Arctic Saurians and other Saurian races consider them no more than myths these days. And just-

Idyia and Rubra-Harenas both just standing in shock and awe when they first meet Helionyx after Helionyx almost shot Rubra's head off with an arrow. Idyia because she knows what he is and the fact the Blue Song are actively looking for his kind and is just 'Oh. Oh SHIT-' internally. Rubra-Harenas because he's just 'you're kidding. ANOTHER character from folklore and fairy tales is ACTUALLY REAL??' Then- because at some point they probably talked about folklore after they encountered the Fell and Idyia most definitely would have brought up the Blue Song were actively looking for the Arctic Saurians, and I'd imagine Captain Ornithicera is well known to the Kindred as Taurox's main target in the arena- Rubra just smirks and tells her 'Oh, your mutilated Captain's face when he hears about this is going to be PRICELESS!' Idyia then (gently) smacks him upside the head because 'yes, Ornithicera's face if he ever learns about this is going to be the funniest thing ever but THAT'S NOT HELPING CONVINCE HELIONYX NOT SHOOTING YOU IS A GOOD IDEA RIGHT NOW RUBRA!'

Helionyx might know why the Blue Song are looking for Arctic Saurians (maybe? He keeps an eye on the patrols and might have overheard them but since he's so isolated he's more likely unaware then aware that the Empire is looking for his kind and his family specifically), and spends most of their initial meeting waiting for Idyia to ask about it. But she never does. They're looking for the large Forefathers' ruins at Mount Mortalis, not Arctic Saurians. If he does know, then he's surprised by this but never really lets it show. He absolutely tried to convince them not to go to Mount Mortalis, but realizes he can't change their minds. So, unknown to them, he does decide that if they survive and need help afterwards, he'll do what he can. (Which thank Maia he decided that because OH BOY. THEY NEEDED IT.)

Then by dumb luck and simply traveling in the area outside of Blue Song patrols, they run into another pair of Arctic Saurians and gain the team mom of their group. Meanwhile, the Blue Song Empire as only ever successfully encountered one Arctic Saurian and is expending so much energy and resources looking for them. (They're all snickering about this whenever it may come up.)

Also, I am going to add in a running joke once Team Mom joins and starts traveling with them is that NO ONE, including most of the Blue Song military, realizes/knows she's an Arctic Saurian. Since most of the people consider her kind to be myths and associate them with snow and ice, when they meet her outside of the 'cold north' they don't automatically think 'oh this weird Saurian is the Eyes of the Mountain'. She never outright says she's one either. People might make comments- "I've never seen a Saurian like you before..." "Yeah, we're not very common in this area any more." or "Where are you from?" "Oh, just north of here."- but there's no reason to think of her as anything other than a weird looking Saurian. And I would imagine lower to mid ranking Blue Song military members not on patrol in the north looking for Arctic Saurians would not be informed of what they supposedly look like or even that the Empire is looking for them. Which means there's totally incidents of Blue Song soldiers in other areas of Sauria meeting this group and her and just thinking 'huh. That was different. Ah well.' and not thinking much more about it unless they either mention it to a higher ranking soldier (and getting a shocked stare and the higher rank RUNNING off to inform their superiors/fellows) or are put on the northern patrols and informed of what they're looking for (which results in them having a lightning bolt moment of realization and them going 'Um....GUYS....??').

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: okay so the dfb rewareded the players after the germany vs scotland game with visits from their families, so maybe something fluffy with that for robin koch? not having seen eachother for weeks when you’re used to living together and hes just so happy :) (✨️ anon)

Word Count: 900 words

(author's note: special fic for my ✨️ anon, i hope you enjoy it lovie !! )

Although Robin loved playing for his country and representing them in competitions, he hated being away from his girlfriend, Y/N. Due to her busy work schedule, she was usually unable to travel to Robin’s games, the Euro’s being no different. 

Y/N knew it wasn’t her fault that she couldn’t go and watch her boyfriend play, but part of her felt like she wasn’t supporting him enough. Robin was always quick to shut down any self-deprecating thoughts Y/N ever had about herself.

To him, Y/N was perfect, and her not being in a position to attend his international games didn’t change that. There had never been a moment throughout the pairs’ relationship where Robin hadn't felt supported by Y/N; her pride for him practically beamed brighter than the sun.

The game against Scotland had been a relatively easy win for the German team. Their 4-1 win had raised their spirits massively and had only made them more eager for their next game. However, the team was blissfully unaware that the best was yet to come.

The DFB were so impressed with the team’s performance that after the game had concluded, they swiftly began arranging flights for the players’ families and loved ones to join them at the camp.

When Y/N received the email, she knew this was her only opportunity to see her boyfriend. She began by calling her boss to explain the situation and begged for a couple of days off work, promising she would make it up to him. Her boss agreed (much to her surprise), and before Y/N knew it, she had packed her suitcase and was sat on a plane to Germany.

A unanimous decision was made to keep the family visits a secret from the players to surprise them when everyone had arrived. So, when the team was told to meet in an empty hall, situated in their hotel, and wait patiently, it was safe to say they were all confused.

“What do you think is going on?” Florian whispered to Robin.

“No idea, must be something important though.”

As if he could hear their questions through the walls, Julian Nagelsmann waltzed through the door, a large smile on his face.

“Good morning, boys. I hope you’re all okay this morning. I have an announcement to make that has been curated by the DFB.”

The boys all shared looks. They all knew it was going to be important if it was related to the DFB.

Julian pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket and began to read, “Due to your outstanding performance against Scotland on Friday night, we have decided to reward you with a surprise. Keep up the hard work and dedication."

As Julian finished reading, the doors to the hall burst open as the players' mothers, fathers, wives, and children began to file in. The sound of excited chatter and tears of joy filled the room as families reunited. Robin’s head was looking around frantically, hoping his girlfriend had been able to make it.

Then he saw her. Y/N walked into the room, her eyes bright with excitement as she scanned the room for her boyfriend. When their eyes met from across the room, Y/N couldn’t think about anything else. She began wildly threading through the masses of people, desperate to be with her boyfriend.

Robin waited, arms open, ready to sweep his girlfriend off her feet. When she finally reached him, the pair collapsed into one another's arms.

“I missed you so much,” Y/N whispered quietly into Robin’s chest.

“I missed you more meine liebe, I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

Robin grasped Y/N tighter; he’d never been more grateful in his life. As they pulled away from each other, the pair stood silently, soaking in the fact that they were really together.

“How about we head back to my hotel room?”

“I think I like that idea very much,” Y/N replied.

With Robin pulling her suitcase, he led her out of the hall and through the corridors until they reached his room. Grabbing his room key, he unlocked the door and stepped to the side to let his girlfriend enter first.

Robin followed her in, closing the door behind him. Haphazardly pushing Y/N’s suitcase to the side, he grabbed his girlfriend’s hand and led her over to the bed in the middle of the room. The pair climbed onto the crisp white sheets, and Y/N settled into her boyfriend’s arms.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to do this before, I knew when I got an email inviting me it was a sign that I had to come.”

Robin shook his head, “I know I say this every time, but it’s not your fault, schatz. You work so hard that it’s understandable you can’t go jetting around the world for my games. I know you’re proud of me, I don’t need you at every game to know that.”

“I love you,” Y/N said softly.

“I love you more liebe, always will.”

The pair remained silent and in each other's embrace. After a while, the comfort of Robin’s arms made Y/N’s eyes grow heavy, and she drifted off into a peaceful slumber. Noticing his girlfriend had fallen asleep, Robin pressed a kiss to her forehead, grateful to finally have her in his arms once again.

[reveluving]

It's missing Rick hours, so why not talk about Rick and (Y/N) (crazy) family fluff!

warnings: fluff & humour!

a/n: Dysfunctional but lovable family fluff >>> Hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I had fun thinking about it! Don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

check out my j. kinnaman m.list for more Rick content!

Do you guys remember the Dee Dee twins from Batman Beyond? I know they're supposed to be Harley's granddaughters but imagine if this takes place post-TSS events, and yes, Rick lives, okay?

He's always been—mf engaged to (Y/N) the second he woke up from unconsciousness and has lived together in a quiet lil' neighbourhood since.

But anyways!

I can't stop thinking about them being Harley's goddaughters or protégés instead, and one day, she begs you and Rick to take care of them for the week while away for a once in a lifetime gig. 

“You listen to your aunt (Y/N) and uncle Rick while I’m gone!” She’d say, though, she should’ve known better than to think her own carbon copies, of all people, would listen. 

I can just imagine you and the girls being joined at the hip, telling them stories from your days as a criminal, even if you’ve left that life behind. Rick’s the ‘grumpy uncle’ they love to annoy. But! They may be opposites, but the second someone talks bad about you?

Rick will see red, no doubt, but if he hears the girls discuss on how to get rid of the loud-mouthing pos, he wouldn't encourage it. But he sure as hell won’t stop them either—these are Harley girls we’re talking about; it’s not like they listen to him all the time. And, well, if they proceeded with whatever they had in mind, well, the bastard deserved it, didn’t he? Nobody really liked Mr Walker anyway.

What they'd do throughout the week their beloved aunt (Y/N) and uncle Rick, a headcanon:

Switching conversation topics when they're bored at the flower shop you work at. One second, it would be about the flowers, which, let's be honest, they're barely listening to, only to excitedly ask about what crimes you've done were the most memorable ones. Without the presence of customers, of course.

Pranking or scaring away any women who visits Rick's workplace solely for the purpose of gawking or flirting with the man, despite knowing he's married. A simple hiss or a quick display of the baseball bat they had with them ("We like playing baseball, don't we, Dee Dee?" "Yes, we do, Dee Dee!) and the visitor's out of the door!

Not once have you nor Rick seen these two play baseball.

They just really love their aunt (Y/N) and uncle Rick, okay!

BONUS: If you also have to babysit Bruce the hyena, the twins would sneak him out of the house at 3 AM, purposefully messing with Mr Walker's front yard and making sure he sees it. He didn't see the girls, however, so, when he tells his neighbours about a hyena on the loose, most of them just he was the one with the loose screws.

I initially thought Rick would work as a lumberjack, but, imagine if he was the sheriff of the neighbourhood?? Mr Walker calls him to complain about the hyena problem, obviously unaware of the culprits silently snickering at one another as they watch him desperately demand for 'justice'.

"Mr Walker, I personally don't think it's possible for a hyena to cross the city undetected for the sole purpose of terrorising just your garden," Rick responded calmly, though, he was unable to bite back the condescending hint in his words, "But, we'll look into it."

Once Walker's out, looking more stressed now that even the sheriff himself was looking at him funny, Rick would glance at the twins, raising a questioning brow at their futile attempts to look innocent before returning to his report.

"Good job." He'd say nonchalantly, and rather than looking peeved or disappointed, they spotted the small smile on his face. He didn't bother turning when they high-fived.

But other than the fact that he's been cockblocked since their arrival, and honest to God, it's been driving him nuts, they've made your and his days much livelier than the usual.

I can see it now; you're all watching TV, Rick holding you against him with one arm around you while he leisurely pets Bruce's mane with the other. Similar to the beloved house hyena, the twins sat on the floor in front of you, listening to them cheer for the antagonist and argue about what's for breakfast tomorrow.

Yes, the Flag's were quite the household, it seems.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚ 

[markerofthemidnight]

who are the members of OO? Are any of them connected to the other characters in Doai?

Okay, it’s really rough so far but to give you the basic rundown (under cut cause this gets looooong):

Blaire

Blaire is the founder-but-not-leader of the Oneiric Observers. Well, she was the leader at some point when it was basically just her, but as she slowly began to add to the group, she went from being the leader to just the founder.

She’s the basic archetypical ‘hyperactive girl who may or may not have ADHD’, armed with nothing but an interest in murder-mysteries and a dream. A dream to, one day, be regarded as one of the greatest investigators of all time.

To be regarded as a hero to all those plagued by unsolved mysteries: and for a while, she settled simply for local disappearances and unsolved crimes from long ago. She was especially plagued by the mystery of the late, the great detective champion, Russel Hawke’s untimely death…

…until she realised that all those mysteries might be more connected than she thought. So now, she’s decided to stop going for small fry, and start shooting for the stars… unaware that, if she’s not careful, the stars might just shoot back.

She was named after Blaire Lily, the main protagonist of Unfriended, which you may recognise as being listed as the main inspiration for Myke and how he functions. Basically, to make naming them easier on me, every OO member is associated with a Veldigun and named after characters in/people who worked on their inspired movies.

Tyler

Tyler is kind of the main protagonist, in a sense.

I don’t have much of a personality for him down yet other than “loser who does not want to be a loser”. Unskilled in… more or less everything, but he’s got drive, and that’s what counts!… kind of.

Tired of living in his stupid-ass older sister’s shadow his whole life, the story properly begins when Tyler finally decides to take Blaire up on her constant offers to literally everyone in school to join the OO, or the “Paranormal Investigation Club”, as all the lame people who are out of the loop know it as.

He’s easily one of the most dedicated to their cause, desperate to finally prove his worth to a world that has forgotten him… and also, kind of to prove his worth to himself.

He was named after Tyler Ledford from The Menu, henceforth making his associated Veldigun Julian. A bit of a weird character to pull inspiration from, considering- other than being a member of the OO, which immediately makes you a bad person- he’s significantly nicer than the Tyler in that movie, but just roll with me here.

Miles

Miles is the first person to join the OO after its founding, who ascended to the rank of official leader due to his great skills and dedication to their cause.

No one really knows why he’s there. He’s regarded as fairly popular- or at least, was before he joined a club occupied solely by losers. In fact, joining the OO might’ve made his popularity even worse than it already was, so what gives?

Well, apparently he thinks all the attention he’s gotten so far is nowhere near enough. He wants more, and he thinks the OO and their investigation of the town’s surprisingly common disappearances might be key to that.

Out of all the main cast, Miles is the one who best sums up what it’s like to be a member of the Oneiric Observers- fitting, since he is the leader- in that he… is an asshole. Just a total douchebag who happens to be really good at hiding that.

He was named after Dr. Miles Bennell from (the 1916 version of) Invasion of the Body Snatchers, making his associated Veldigun Victor.

Oh, and just so you know, when not at school he keeps his uniform on but only keeps the top button done, so that way his cardigan looks like a cape. That’s how self-absorbed he is.

Akela

Akela is the second member to join after its founding, and probably the only one to join (besides technically Blaire?) out of a genuine interest in the paranormal and nothing else.

She’s the archetypical quiet, well-behaved girl with good grades who basically everyone else is really jealous of. She joined because she wanted to see what the Paranormal Investigation Club had to offer… only to be deeply shocked when it was not a bunch of professionals like she was expecting, but just a bunch of random losers grasping at straws in order to get popular.

The only reason why Akela sticks around is because she wants to see what will happen next… and also because, she may or may not genuinely believe that the OO might be key to getting more respect, rather than just jealous stares.

She’s also the kind of person who occasionally asks things like “hey by the way do you know which area you should target if you want to effectively torture information out of someone?” to people with no warning, just to freak them out.

She was named after Akela Cooper, who wrote M3GAN, making her associated Veldigun Candice.

Evelyn

The third member to join after its founding, Evelyn is… shy. She’s real shy. Easily the one starting member of the OO who’s the closest to being a good person.

She joins after being promised by Miles that she could be a hero to the people of her town if she joined, and she’d do anything to get her confidence up, so she accepted… not knowing what she’d be dragged into as a result.

There’s honestly not much else to say about her at this point in time. She was named after Evelyn Abbott, the mother from A Quiet Place, making her associated Veldigun Beau.

Doreen

Doreen is the fifth and final member to join the OO post-founding, which actually doesn’t happen until about halfway through the main story. She is also Tyler’s aforementioned stupid-ass older sister.

She’s regarded as pretty popular, in fact even more popular than Miles was, at least before he joined the OO. Both pretty smart and pretty pretty, everyone knows her, and everyone’s interested on getting her on their good side.

And she… is interested in absolutely none of them.

There are two main reasons why she joins: firstly, she knows her brother’s been roped into a really dangerous situation and she wants to help out in any way she can. Secondly, she would sell her goddamn soul if it meant getting all the admirers desperate for superficial relationships off her.

She’s the only one who knows that popularity does not equal happiness, a lesson that, unfortunately, not many of them listen to even after she joins. Still, she’s grateful to get all those eyes off her… even if it means getting other, far more dangerous eyes watching her wherever she goes.

She is unique amongst the entire cast- minus her associated Veldigun- in that she was not named after a character from a horror movie. Well, said Veldigun was vaguely inspired by The Black Phone, but that wasn’t his main inspiration.

His main inspiration was actually the real life disappearance of the Jack family in Canada, 1989, as described in Real Horror’s video, The Family That Vanished.

Specifically, one specific moment in that video detailing a strange event during the investigation in which an anonymous person called the police, told them the supposed area in which the Jack family’s corpses were buried- though it was too garbled and deep for them to figure out the exact location, to the point where to this day, no signs of bodies have ever been found.

I watched that video a while back, got to that absolutely chilling moment, and thought to myself, “Hey, I wanna make a character who calls people investigating mysteries, gives them a genuinely ground-breaking piece of information, and then immediately hangs up!”

Which then eventually resulted in Doreen being named after the late mother of the family of four, and Russel being named after the family’s first-born. Russel… he’s a pretty special guy. Even by Veldigun standards.

The video was really great, the mystery really enticing, and the case really… tragic, so I named them after two of the four total victims. It’s a shame that, after death, people are reduced to their method of dying and nothing more, but… I suppose there’s really nothing we can do about that. The least I could do was pay my respects, and naming OCs after them was the first thing I came up with to do so.

(Oh, and to answer your second question: whilst it’s both too early in the writing process and too spoilery to say if they’re connected to any canon characters, I think I can at least mention this:

The way DOAI: OO and canon DOAI are connected to each other is kinda similar to Jumanji and its two sequels in which they take place in the same universe, but have little connection to each other due to taking place in two completely different times with different casts.

There ARE a few connections here and there- and Six probably will show up, or at least get mentioned at some point- but other than that, it’s its own story.)

[asvterias]

𝖦𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖤𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖥𝗈𝗋 𝖧𝖾𝗋 ~ 𝖡𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖡𝗂𝗑𝗅𝖾𝗋

warnings: tiny bit of angst but a happy ending

pairings: bridget x fem!black!reader

genres: extrovert!reader x introvert!bridget & bridget being a cute jealous gf while being slightly insecure

summary: despite being in a relationship with bridget, skylar still playfully flirts with you at a party. your girlfriend instantly becomes overdriven with jealousy and insecurity, making her question your love for her.

word count: 1.2k+

author’s note: hopefully this turns out better than excepted! italic is bridget’s thoughts!

tag list: @c6pids @melodramatic-lesbian @simpforseungkwan @curiousshifter101

it was rare to get bridget out of her home, especially to a party, of all places. knowing the brunette girl’s interests by heart, she values staying indoors with her loved ones, only opting to leave her house when necessary. sometimes you get her to spend the night over at your house, even if it was just to be held in each other’s warm embrace or innocent making out. somehow, you had seduced roped into making bridget come to the party as your plus one.

although she agreed to come along, she didn’t plan on being reckless with her actions that night, therefore she was prohibiting herself from doing drugs and drinking alcohol.

bridget was huddled in a corner, observing others with her eyes as she tended to a red cup in her hand. better to look awkward standing than sitting alone. she wanted to be alone, often taking the liberty of her state of mind. not to be surrounded by alcoholic minors and loud music booming throughout her ears.

you had invited her over in your social circle, persuading her to get comfortable and meet your friends but she shook her head in disagreement with a small smile. she truly adored you but most of your friends were just assholes in her perspective.

although saddened by her answer, you pouted slightly before pecking her lips and left to head over to your group.

god, you were so cute, bridget admired you with a smile lingering on her face. to this day, the brunette nerd was still confused about how she managed to pull you.

it was a no-brainer that you both belonged to two different school cliches. you were amongst the rich and popular group, occupying positions like head cheerleader whilst bridget was a nerd and loner holding onto being in the school band.

she hadn’t gone far, only being a few feet away, wanting to keep a close eye on you. besides she didn’t know anyone else at this party other than you and wasn’t desperate in becoming a social butterfly.

now she really regrets not accepting that invitation to join your friends.

despite only downing a club soda, her eyes perceived her throughout the array of bodies moving past her. everything turned in slow motion, the music, the people alongside their chattering…but bridget wasn’t focused on any of those things. in fact, she was solely focused on your little conversation with your friend, skylar. every time skylar leans into your ear and whispers incoherent words and your reaction is a wide smile across your face making her face scrunch up in irritation. also witnessing how skylar’s hand glazed onto your inner thigh but you subtly push her hand away. all that flashed through bridget’s mind was repeatedly punching her until she lost consciousness…

bridget closes her eyes, hitting her head against the wall as she distracted herself by squeezing the cup to steady her overwhelming emotions.

she couldn’t act out in public, not like this, not with you around. come on, she’s not a wild animal, she has some self-control, but, oh….skylar was making it mission impossible for the introverted brunette.

the proximity between you and skylar made her infuriated with jealousy. bridget had voiced her opinions about your friend being seemingly unaware of boundary rules.

she guesses that she should be mad at you as well, for allowing her to be in your personal space but she’s not. she couldn’t blame skylar for her advances on you because you were stunning and she knew that other people saw the same.

she should be the one teasing you indiscreetly. she should be the one making you blush. not your friend. it should be her! it shouldn’t be affecting her this much anyways, after all, she was the one with the upper hand gaining the luxury of dating you.

stupid skylar thinks that you’re interested in her. stupid skylar is fully aware of your relationship with bridget but still ignores her and parades you around, acting like you’re single.

stupid skylar!! stupid skylar!! stupid skylar!!

a sudden splash brought her out of her thoughts as she abruptly opened her eyes to notice that her drink was spilled onto the wooden floor and the cup destroyed. the noise also turned a few heads, including yours as the music faded out the minor accident.

not used by this much attention, bridget turns on her heel and hurriedly escapes the scene, bumping into random shoulders while exiting to save herself from further embarrassment. immediately you got up and followed after your girlfriend to check up on her, pushing past people to keep up with your fast girlfriend.

soon enough, you found her in one of the bedrooms sitting on the neatly fixed bed with her head in her hands.

“got room for one more?” you asked, still in the doorway, watching how she slowly removes her hands and looks up at you. nodding slightly, she pats a space next to her waiting for you to join her.

upon taking her confirmation, you close the door and walk towards her. you heavily sighed as you took a seat on the soft mattress.

“wanna talk about what happened in there?”

“no! not really.” she shrugs you off, avoiding your eyes. you agreed in silence while looking forward, shuffling closer and briefly touching her leg with yours. the light touch made her turn to you with a hidden glint in her eyes.

“it’s just that i sometimes wonder if you ever made the right choice about dating me.”

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you attempt to stutter out an answer. where was all this coming from?

bridget had kept it hidden, in hopes of her jealousy brushing off but it just seemed to flourish over time instead. turns out, her so-called buried feelings raised back when seeing skylar’s advances toward you.

“look at us, [name]!” she switches her finger between the two of you, “you’re one of the popular kids and i’m a nerd. our school cliches don’t intertwine with each other.”

“that’s not really what you’re mad at, bridg.”

“fine…” she defeatedly sighs, “i guess that i got jealous of you and skylar being so close together. she knows that we’re dating yet she’s still over you.”

“now i can’t excuse skylar’s behavior but i will confront her about it.”

“no please don’t—“

“if it makes you uncomfortable i’ll confront her about it 100 times.” you held her hands, calmly interrupting her.

“listen to me, bridg.” you caress her face softly, watching as she melts into your touch and the sight made you swoon light-heartedly. “you’re good enough for me, i love you and not skylar so i don’t want you to feel insecure just by being in a relationship with me,” you explain, squeezing her hand, “look from now on, we can try to be as open as we need to be each with other, so neither of us are left in the dark. ok, that sounds like a plan?”

bridget smiles, agreeing with your statement. “wanna ditch and order take-out?”

you leaned in, giving your girlfriend a gentle kiss. “yeah, let’s go.”

© asvterias, 2023. please do not plagiarize any of my works.

[hhighkey]

Haunted // Chapter Three, jujutsu high

Inumaki Toge x OC (female)

Chapter Rating: general

Story Contains: unhealthy relationships, strangers to lowkey!friends to lovers, family issues, OC is in high school going into university after summer, she thought curses were ghosts, bad parents want their child dead, 18/19 character ages, toge is so in love, eventual sex prior to relationship, soft dom toge, dacryphylia, over protective/ possessive toge, jealous toge

Word Count: 2701

KEY: ‘text written with single quotations are writing/typing in notes or messages by toge' and bold text is when japanese sign language comes in

Tags: reply if want a tag

Masterlist

-

Out on the track at Jujutsu High was Itadori, Fushiguro, and Kugisaki all amuck for their training. Fushiguro and Itadori were running around the track as Kugisaki timed them, yelling out laps left or to just run faster. The sun beat down with no remorse on their forms, training more grueling than normal. The only breaks were when the puffy white clouds hid the sun's slowly setting rays. "You guys can run faster! This is pathetic! Sun'll be down soon!" The three were unaware of what had happened just an hour ago, that three unusual kids were now on the school's property receiving help.

"Oh shut up!" Itadori called back as he ran past her, breathing hard.

Coming down the stairs was an older student, Panda, who'd been asked to retrieve the three of them. For a few seconds he watched them run about, yelling profanities about who was faster or stronger. But eventually when Kugisaki noticed Panda waiting and not joining in, she called the two boys over.

"Hey Panda!" Itadori waved, hands on his knees as he breathed hard.

"Gojo wants us all to meet. Suppose something's come up."

"Oh? What?"

"I don't know. Let's go find out." Panda exclaimed, "Maki's been in a weird mood since she got back and won't talk about and well Inumaki.. you know."

"Was it a higher grade curse than they were expecting?" Kugisaki asked.

"Don't think so, but they brought people back with them I know that much."

The three younger sorcerers exchanged looks as Panda was already heading up the stairs. The confusion in the air was then heavy. Today had been a day like any other until Maki and Inumaki were called away, though Inumaki was the one requested and Gojo thought it was a good idea for Maki to join. It wasn't often, as of late, for them to be called altogether like this.

When they arrived where Gojo waited, they found him pacing an empty classroom. It was a rare sight to not see him lounged out on a chair with a carefree demeanor going on rants about something. Instead his right hand was continously raking through his hair as if he was trying to desperately remember something.

The students stood watching their teacher for many minutes before it was like he even realized they were there.

"So everyone, we have some extra visitors today." Gojo then began to ramble, "We really need to think of a way to figure out if civilians have wandered into an area during an exorcism.. it's a relief no one died honestly. I'm still confused myself and if I have to report to the higher ups, I can't look like an idiot."

"Who are they?" Kugisaki asked as she wasn't there to witness what happened, "and what do you mean? They just wandered in?"

"No idea," Gojo shrugged, "I still want to know what happened," he peered at Inumaki and Maki, the two who sat in the corner of the room dejectedly.

Maki took a deep breath, "it was a weak curse, very weak. But we could hear crying, figured it was the curse trying to do something I don't know. However, as I attacked that was when I saw them. A girl in front of two others. They were gravely injured and then they weren't..."

"How were they suddenly not injured?"

"Well, she uh, appeared to heal her friends." Maki stated bluntly knowing she'd have to since Inumaki couldn't, "probably has lots of cursed energy... Don't think she knew what she was doing."

"Shake," the cursed speech user agreed.

"Well I would like to meet her," Panda said

"So would I," Gojo agreed with a smile, "don't let her leave."

"Doubt she will while her friends are being checked out by Shoko."

"I'm sure Shoko is fascinated by her." Maki mumbled, "didn't even look like she had a hard time with.. whatever she did."

"Panda, let's go ask her." Gojo said casually as began to leave the students in the room, "sure she'd love to meet a talking panda."

"As they left, Maki called out after them, "that girl who healed her friends- her energy feels weird!"

Gojo just raised his hand in a waving dismissive motion, nothing he couldn't handle. Which made Maki grimace with a huff.

Gojo was fascinated when Maki had come running to find him going on about their job not going smoothly as civilians were there, that Inumaki went to go find Shoko as Ijichi had them in the car. He'd hardly listened as she explained about the curse or the kids- until she said one of the girls literally made a glowing light around her friends and they were healed. As good as new.

"Think she's someone who should enroll?" Panda asked, they always needed new faces.

"Maybe. Probably. Could use someone that can just make us healthy on command," he chuckled, "hopefully she didn't stray from where she was asked to sit still..."

The two sorcerers found Keiko meek against the large trees and buildings around where she sat. She looked dejected with her deep breaths trying to stay calm, hair and clothes with clumps of dried blood. Her hands shook softly as she continued to smooth out her uniform skirt like it was a tick for her nerves and discomfort. Panda hoped the young girl was okay, he knew it was hard for people to discover they had 'powers' and everything they knew was different. He also hoped Gojo wouldn't freak her out too much.

Keiko sat on the edge of the deck outside the building where Aki was inside. Her eyebrows seemed to be in a permanent downcast as her thoughts were wild trying to comprehend everything she witnessed and did. Chills ran down her body as she thought back to the monster with all the little ones attached, all the teeth.. the two people who stopped it- it happened too fast. And then in her dismay she'd felt a warmth come over her and a soft yellow, sparkling glow came over Aki and Kaito.. all their gashes and marks disappeared... how did that happen? When she'd awoken on in an unknown area with unfamiliar surroundings she was in a panic. Everything felt jumbled in her head as she tried to place it all.

The woman who was in the room when she awoke was named Shoko Ieiri, the supposed doctor. She explained to her she was attacked and that she was at a place called Jujutsu High. Ironic. Keiko was only able to get glances of Aki and Kaito laid out on two beds i separate room; alive and breathing but asleep.

"Are you okay?"

Keiko jumped in her spot as she turned to the voice that came from out of nowhere surprising her. In one motion it felt like a record scratch in her mind as her eyes widened at the sight of... a panda. "What?"

Next to the very large panda was a man in purple with a blindfold on and white hair. These 'people' were all so strange she'd come to realize as she watched everyone to past by her at one point.

"Hi Miss uh- we'll do introductions in a little bit.", Gojo started talking, "Welcome to Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, or as we like to call it- Jujutsu High. Though I think most people think we're a temple up here."

Through her bloodshot, tear stained eyes Keiko stared at the blindfolded man with an incredulous look. Her mouth itching to fall open as he murmured about something that just didn't seem important right now, "yeah I know."

"Oh good. So you know about curses, cursed energy, cursed spirits-"

"You mean the... ghosts?" her voice felt hoarse as she'd sobbed for what felt like forever where she currently sat. None of what was going on now was the welcome she expected, nothing was being explained to her.

"Uhh not quite." he deadpanned, she had no idea, "Here we train jujutsu sorcerers to exorcise curses, work as an HQ or any alumni or student can stay here or.. so forth. Make sense?"

Keiko apprehensively nodded,

"I'm faculty here, my name's Gojo Satoru, and this is Panda. You've already seen two other of my students; Zenin Maki and Inumaki Toge. They were the ones who saved you from a curse."

"I'm Keiko." she responded quietly. She didn't know where to look when Gojo talked as it wasn't possible to make eye contact. And she didn't want to stare at Panda..

"Just Keiko? Okay we'll that's fine. Do you know what you did back there?"

"Err, no. One second they uh, were hurt and the next second they were healed." Keiko grimaced as the images flashed in front of her in a flash, making her heart jump. The paralyzing emotions she felt before started to return as her breathing turned ragged and she turned away from them so they couldn't see her face. Her vision became misted as she focused on the deep brown wood she sat upon. The two sorcerer's didn't speak right away, but as Gojo went to open his mouth a figure that'd been listening in stepped forward-

"- Let's not harass the poor girl, she's in shock." Shoko Ieiri stood with her hands on her hips, staring down Gojo, "I would like to talk to her."

Gojo held his hands up in the air as if he meant no harm, nodding as he turned, "You got it Doc. See you around Keiko,"

An annoyed look came over Keiko's face- he was interesting.

-

Keiko had tears in her eyes as she was overwhelmed staring at the school grounds. A deep purple invaded the late night sky and the trees casted dark shadows on the ground, it was eerie. She listened to the wind wail through the shifting leaves trying to have something else to focus on. Now that she'd calm down from an overload of information she was able to truly take in where she was. The school was beautiful; tucked away in the trees and mountains outside the city, built in old Japanese architecture style like a buddhist temple. This was probably the farthest she's been from the city and her estate, in a way it was invigorating. She involuntarily smiled as she ran her fingers through her long dark locks as she did feel a big difference in her mood-

They were going to be okay. Aki and Kaito. When Shoko came out and said she found nothing wrong with them after further testing, Keiko felt nothing but relief.

Being lost in her unending thoughts, she didn't notice the footsteps approaching her,

"Konbu."

Keiko spun around at the sound of someone's voice. That must have been Inumaki Toge, the boy Panda told her about, that he only spoke in ingredients. The one who saved her life earlier as she recognized him. Seeing him brought her back to watching/hearing him simply say a command- causing the curse to explode.

"Um hi, Inumaki?" Keiko didn't know what to say as she wiped her tears away, especially to someone who couldn't converse properly. He had pale blonde hair that was slightly in his pretty violet eyes. His uniform partially covered his face, which confused her even though she knew his mouth had an importance to him.

He nodded.

"Thank you for earlier, I really appreciate it. So much. And uh, I'm sorry I can't understand you... I-I, can't imagine how hard it is not to be able to converse.."

Inumaki felt himself involuntarily nod again to show he understood what she was saying through her rambles; his lips had a soft upturn by hearing her kind words towards him- a stranger. It wasn't surprising she knew, Panda would help him out by explaining to people when he didn't have the capacity to.

He approached her with caution, as he could easily read her anxieties and fears with everything from today. At one point he was just as confused and scared as she was.. Looking at her, he thought she was beautiful, but he could only remember how scared she was as she tried to shield the two others from the cursed spirits. It was a brave but stupid thing to do; but it was exactly what he would do if he were in her place and it were anyone at Jujutsu High.

Even feet away from her he realized she wasn't cursed... per say, that much was obvious. But he felt a soft glow coming from her as he got closer and closer so he could grab her hand. Nothing about her felt dangerous as even the strange aura made him feel invited. To him she felt cold against the warm summer night air; with the contact of their skin alit a flame, a shock that made them lock eyes for long seconds before he spoke,

"Takana." Inumaki reached into one of his pockets and took out a small pink object, placing it into her tinier hand. It's a piece of candy wrapped in pink with the words 'sweet'.

"Thank you," she said meekly, feeling overwhelming emotion taking the candy and putting it in her pocket. Today had been too much for her. Her heart was still a racing mess, still trying to come back from the stress she'd been under. Keiko tried to give him a smile to show she'd be fine, it was clear he was worried from the glint in his eyes. "I don't really understand all that's going on... or what it is you can do or what I can do. But I appreciate the kindness— and earlier I- they wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you guys."

Inumaki rested a hand on her shoulder, "sujiko,"

Keiko watched curiously as with his other hand pulled out a cellphone from his pocket and began to type away.

He held up the phone with the notes page open-

'I'm sorry this happened to you and your friends, try not to worry they'll be okay now because of you.. not just us. But I'm just glad we could help too before it got worse.'

Keiko somberly smiled at him, "Thank you, again. It's been a real pleasure."

"Shake."

She had no idea what he meant by that, but she assumed it was something along the lines of same or agree.

Inumaki, unknown to her, normally seemed distant to anyone just meeting him. Intimidating. Mysterious. But she was getting to see his caring side right off the bat as he felt he had a duty towards her from saving her life. He didn't want anything to happen as his heart strings tugged at him hard seeing her tear stained face.

The two stood under the newly night sky, the stars glittering down on them. It was the first time Keiko let out a genuine laugh as she talked to him, him writing down his responses to show her. It was the first time in hours she felt a bit of normalcy and for that she was grateful for him.

After a few minutes 'conversing' with Inumaki, Gojo reappeared informing her she'd be taken home.

"What do you mean taken home?"

"Best thing is for you to get some sleep. We'll be in contact." Gojo said in a dismissive tone.

"Where's Aki and Kaito? I'll leave when they leave."

Panic returned in Keiko's chest, a pit forming in her stomach. She could feel a tight build-up of frustration in her body as she couldn't understand how this man could make her leave without her friends. Supposedly they were fine, so she should be with them! She couldn't feel it, but the two sorcerers could- a change in her energy that felt powerful.

She didn't notice their exchange; Gojo sending a look (order) towards Inumaki which he seemed reluctant to follow, but nodded.

Feeling the hand of Inumaki on her shoulder, the last thing she heard was- "Sleep."

[galactic-blooms]

Voices. Tiny, faint voices. Each one whispering barely a word or two.... Astrion feels as if he's floating, through an empty, dark, warm void. He tries listening to what the voices say.

".......... cheater.........."

... wait.... what?

"Pick one....."

He stirs in the void a bit, frowning. What are they talking about? Why do the voices sound so weirdly familiar...?

"Desperate"

"Womanizer"

"Indecisive"

"Ridiculous"

They slowly become recognizable.

".... Radio? Aella?"

Their voices are distorted, mixed with others he also recognizes but can't quite understand. But theirs ring out the loudest.

"Dating multiple people at once? Who's your favorite?" Aella's voice hisses. She sounds betrayed.

"Wha.... I don't have a favorite??"

"Everyone has a favorite. You're just desperate to feel loved, this 'poly' thing doesn't exist."

Astrion tries to identify the other voices shining through, the Aella and Radio he knows would never say that stuff... right?

"You don't love me!"

"What- yes I do!"

"You only want me for @^>@,×^<#(, you're disgusting!!"

"Radio, you know that's not-"

"IM NOT RADIO!!!"

Astrion tries to back away from the voices, despite them echoing from all directions. A sharp pain from his right eye makes him yell out, grabbing it.

"I thought you loved me, why would you bring this up again?! I knew I shouldn't have said yes the first time you brought it up!!"

"You should have told her you were gay, how could you do this to her?! To US?!"

"I- I did!! Please- !(×^×>#, ¡`}▪︎♧○¡\》-"

"LEAVE US ALONE!!!"

And the voices disappear.... as if being sucked through a vacuum.

.... vacuum.....

Astrion puts a hand under his hair, cupping the space where his eye should be. He reaches in... deeper, deeper, looking for the source of the pain. It feels like.... an ache.

Two new voices join the others. Aella and Radio don't say a thing.

"You are wrong for this. You are asking too much. You don't really love them."

"You don't know s---, yes I do!!!"

"LIES."

He flinches back. Now it's just the two new voices.... somehow their words hurt more- they mean so, so much more.

"It's only possible to love one. First your brother, and now you. You are breaking their hearts, you are breaking OUR hearts. You cannot possibly love two people at once, it's not right."

"You did this to yourself... for shame."

"Your pain is deserved, that's what you get for hurting them."

"You deserve to be alone for this."

That word strikes something, and Astrion's eye shoots open.

He's back in the inn, on the couch. Aella and Radio are still snuggled up to him, hopefully unaware of his rapid heartbeat.

Astrion swallows back a tear and feels his face underneath his hair.... everything is normal.

God..... he really does hate being alone.

[julietv09]

Genshiken Part 1

The anime series “Genshiken” is what I believe people who do not watch anime see those who do watch anime as. People tend to have this judgmental view over anime if they have not watch one before. The series portrays a group of teenage boys who join together to watch “adult anime”. Throughout the episodes, we can see many stereotypes about anime. Some of them being all anime displays sexual content and mainly meant for the gaze of males. This is shown when the room the club meets in is full of only adult games, books, and figures. Also, it was said the female character, Saki, does not really read manga which adds to the idea that the women are not into anime.

Another generalized misconception is that all boys that watch anime are “nerdy” and do not know how to interact with girls. In episode 9, Harunobu is left alone in a room with Saki and is unaware of what to say to her. He starts to imagine scenarios of what might happen if he brings up a certain topic, but when he actually attempts to speak to her, it goes the opposite direction. We could also see that in his imagination Saki was like one of the girls from his “adult games”. Although there might be some people like this in the world, it doesn’t mean everyone who watches anime falls into this stereotype.

Overall, this was a weird show and really hard to watch. It was kinda uncomfortable to hear them speak about the drawings in the magazines. This was definitely not one of my favorites shows we have watched and i do not think i would recommend anyone to watch this. Honestly, it was funny to see the desperation of the characters for these comics and it made me wonder if there were actually people like this in the world.

[ljterariness]

amber and jealousy , because apparently one rambling wasn't enough today

it starts young , with her sisters . olive and violet , close in age looks and personality . they'd talk to and from school , over the dinner table , freely with shanon (mother) . they have everything she doesn't and it eats away at her , she feels it burn beneath her skin as she cuts into her dinner . silent as always .

olive and violet grow up before she does , they graduate and begin families , they don't live at home anymore . amber is jealous of that too . she spends her days with math she doesn't understand , writing on books she's already read . her sisters have grown past that , they're unaware of the silence they've left behind in exchange for their own lives .

olive dies . hardly lived and leaving behind a son . amber doesn't consider it significant , it is . the jealousy subsides for a while - it'd be disrespectful really . she plays role of dutiful grieving sister but is really only grieving for monotony . because nothing is really quite the same after .

she's jealous of her classmates too , as they walk for graduation . they have family out there cheering for them , colleges to go to and people to celebrate with . amber has bags full of books stolen from her school's library , in exchange for walking . and her sister , violet (alive) waiting to drive her home . so she has every right to be jealous really , it's another cliché she's robbed of .

it spreads as she begins college , being cooped up for a year , next to silent can do that to a person surprisingly . she's jealous of the greek class: of bunny , henry , camila , charles and francis . what they must have that she's lacking in . she knows languages - latin and spanish , so it's not even like she'd be incompetent . amber's aware when she sees them about , their better than - almost uneasy demeanour . so yes - she is jealous . not that she'd ever admit it .

parties aren't a rarity , warm beer clutched in hand as amber clings to the wall - or cigarette ( she only picked it up for something to do ) clutched in hand as she sat in the cool night air . she envied the people who had the courage to get up and dance , talk to a stranger or take someone's hand . she seethed with jealousy , bottled it up for each year of existence . anyone who seemed to be able to socialise was an inconvenience .

richard papen , who managed to study greek . who joined the class late after she'd been turned down . it was an endless loop of discontent really , and soon enough he seemed to absorb the sense they carried around . it was like the world was laughing at her . each thing she longed for was just out of her grasp , just enough for someone else and god - wasn't it her turn ?

to be jealous of a tragedy was sickening really , amber knows this . but wasn't it all like the crime novels she'd read ? it just made amber feel odd , she knows what she knows , is aware its an accident . but it's all so unnerving that she feels the desperation to be there , watch him fall with her own eyes . and it's disgusting and she feels it because amber doesn't control her emotions these days , she just follows them blindly .