#whenever asked my favourite age was is and always will be five years old

[runawaycarouselhorse]

overheard in a home video grandma she was talking about her childhood memories; but i think we can all apply this to our own lives and memories because gosh i really feel this myself

“I don’t know what happened yesterday, but I know what happened back then”

— my grandma

[whiskyanndboots]

Vertigo

Summary - You were kicking yourself, you were a coward, a hopelessly unrequited mess hung up on a time traveling genius who didn't end up with normal, boring girls like you.

Pairing - Five x Reader, OCxReader (briefly)

Warnings- Swearing, sexual innuendo, alcohol, canon divergence, pining

A/N - I didn’t edit this, sorry, but I got a little fic idea and ran with it. I’d never heard of Umbrella Academy until about a month ago when the series ended and the community was on fire, I only write for series 4 and Five is aged up in this one because it’s a travesty we didn’t get his family making jokes about him legally being able to drink now. Sloane is alive because so she should be.

You tilted your head back and finished your drink while the bartender was already making your next one, the pleasant buzz of alcohol thrummed through you easing the anxiety you'd had in coming here earlier tonight. 

"He won't stop staring" Charlotte whispered in your ear, leaning into you so much you stumbled into the bar. 

Charlotte was your favourite co-worker, she didn't seem to care much about your vague answers and the distance you kept from everyone at work. 

"Who?" You answered with fake interest, you knew who. 

"Oliver!" She exclaimed laughing into her drink still way too close to your face. 

She was right, Oliver had been staring all night, aswell as flirting and buying you drinks. Oliver had asked you out once a few months ago and you'd rejected him, he took it on the chin and you'd been friends ever since. But you weren't blind, you seen the way he'd look at you, eyes flicking over your body before darting back up to your face when you'd walk by, his gaze always drifting to your mouth while you spoke.


The only difference was that for the first time tonight you were flirting back. 

"Come on, let's go dance" Charlotte tugged on your arm lightly gesturing at the packed dance floor. 

"I'll get my drink and I'll meet you out there" You told her, she dropped your arm and practically bounced into the crowd, your gaze caught Oliver’s and you gave him a quick smile, ducking your head and turning to face the bar. 

He was handsome, smart, funny, successful and he was very, very into you, you should have been over the moon, but there was one very crucial thing he was lacking when it came to your feelings. 

He wasn't Five Hargreeves.

You'd been living with Five for two years now, you'd been surprised when he offered up his apartment while you were still reeling from having somehow, inexplicably, jumped timelines. He had said he was away working all the time and the place was empty anyway. 

Considering you'd been staying with all the other Hargreeves siblings on a rotating roster the offer sounded like a dream. Five had eventually warmed up to you after he'd decided you weren't secretly trying to screw over him and his family, it took a few months longer than this siblings, you thought living with him would be awkward and you’d have this semi silent co-existence type of roommate relationship. 

As it turned out living with Five was easy. Yes, he was snarky, bossy and arrogant, but he was an old man at heart and he acted like one. When he wasn't working he was home reading about things that made your brain hurt, watching jeopardy and random documentaries, he’d recently found his new hobby in building these little complex car sculptures he'd painstakingly put together for weeks at a time. 

He liked walking too, the two of you often went for strolls, getting fresh air and finding new things to see, you were always excited about these little adventures and finding another hidden gem in the city. Five also had a love of classic cars and driving them very fast whenever he had occasion, the first time he asked if you wanted a spin in a 1983 Pontiac Firebird he’d acquired for a Saturday drive you spent most of it holding on for dear life. Five was an entirely sensible, though impatient, driver in the city, but he let loose when you traveled onto open roads. He liked to go see some of the weird wonders America had to offer, he had a list.

It was so easy to forget he was an old man on the inside while simultaneously forgetting his body was so young on the outside too. 

Your favourite thing by far was drinking scotch at home on the couch just talking, laughing and listening to music as he tried to help you understand some complex theory on physics or his own time travel ones, he also told you stories of his life. Most of the time they were funny, but some nights it got somber and they were nights where you were brave enough to reach out and squeeze his hand as a comfort, he wasn't normally a very physically affectionate guy, but he always squeezed your hand back. 

This was a problem because you'd very quickly fallen for Five, so quickly it was embarrassing, and Five had zero inclination towards you romantically. 

You were helpless really, his tenacity, how incredibly intelligent he is, his arrogant charm and quick wit and how much he loved his family all made your heart flutter. There were times when he'd look up at you with mischievous green eyes, a slight smirk tilting his mouth and his dark hair falling so perfectly in his face that your heart would slam against your ribcage. 

But as you had pointed out, this was all completely one sided. 

Five saw you as a friend, a close friend, but there was nothing more. He'd never once made a move or even hinted at seeing you romantically in the last two and a half years you'd known him. 

It was fine at first, it was enough for you just to be in his orbit, to live in your home together drinking coffee in the morning while he did crosswords in the newspaper and asked for your help occasionally, to be at family dinners or events and stand to the side to watch his incredible and weird family laughing and shouting while the both of you stole a moment for each other in the, usually, happy chaos.

It was enough to be cooking dinner and have Five come home muttering about the idiots he worked with, shrugging out of his jacket and coming to see what you were making. He'd lean against the kitchen counter venting while you were getting everything ready, he'd eventually sigh loudly and ask about your own day. You'd try not to get too distracted when he'd reach up and loosen his tie, long, tapered fingers plucking the knot expertly apart. 

He'd always stand there until you were done cooking, hair messy, a slight smile on his face, sometimes teasing you as you tried to one up him with playful insults, you never could, but you still tried and the wide grin he'd give you when you inevitably were lost for words against him made your face flush.

It was all so domestic and you were far too comfortable with it. 

The longer you indulged in the bubble you'd created with Five the deeper you were falling in and the more it was going to hurt when it ended.

You'd been thinking lately about the future, you wanted someone to love, maybe even a family, you'd spent over two years now in a kind of limbo not willing to accept you weren't going home to your old life. But you were getting older, you were watching everyone else's lives change and grow while yours stayed the same. 

You dreaded the day Five told you he met someone, it was bound to happen eventually, if anything you were surprised it hadn't already. You'd see the way women looked at him, but he always brushed them off if they were brave enough to approach, atleast while you were with him. You didn't like to think about what happened when you weren't.

So you pushed yourself to do this, to have some fun and get to know your co-workers better, let your walls down and maybe even give Oliver a chance. Lila had even called and invited you out tonight and although you would much rather have spent time with Lila, Diego, Klaus, Luther and Sloane you declined. Lila sounded happy you were getting out of the house and making other friends.

You were glad you came, you were having fun and the more alcohol you drank the more free and giddy you felt. It felt amazing not to care so much about your problems.

You hadn't been with anyone since you found yourself stranded in this timeline and all the pent up frustration from living with the man who made your pulse quicken on a daily basis felt like it needed to be let out. 

You grabbed your drink and made your way over to Oliver, he smiled widely as you approached, it felt good to have someone interested in you.

"Wanna dance?" He asked, there was a relaxed demeanour about him, he'd been drinking as much as you and you wondered if he could feel the same adrenaline about you as you were about him. 

You nodded taking his outstretched hand as he led you onto the dance floor. The pub you all decided to visit had a band playing tonight, doing some pretty decent covers of some 80's rock and roll, you'd been here before with the others, it wasn't far from your apartment and Lila and Diego's house. 

You saw Charlotte out there, swaying her hips with her arms around a mans neck, she winked at you with a wide smile when she saw Oliver pulling you further into the crowd of people.

You danced and sang , laughing and spinning around, everytime Oliver touched your skin it sent butterflies into your stomach, you don't remember the last time you felt this kind of nervous excitement, this exhilarated. 


A lie.


You absolutely do remember. 

It had been their birthday, all of their birthdays, but it was Five's second twenty first birthday, so naturally there was alot of alcohol involved. Five endured endless teasing about finally being able to drink and watching his cranky, snide banter with his family had you grinning all night. 

You shook your head, you wouldn't let yourself think about that night. It was a year ago and you'd filed it firmly in the do not open part of your brain, you saved it for late nights when you couldn't sleep and you let yourself take a pathetic hit off the memory. 

Oliver pulled you closer to him and out of your head, his hands were on your hips, he had an easy, boozy grin on his face while he held you tighter against his body, you could feel muscle and warmth, your breath quickened.

"You're so beautiful" He yelled over the music his hand sliding up to cup your face. 

Your heart was racing as he leaned in, you'd been waiting for this all night.

His mouth clumsily pressed onto yours, you kissed him back with a vigour you didn't even know you had. This was what you needed to do, you had to get Five out of your head which was ironic considering its all you could think about now. 

The kiss was messy, not unpleasant though, he pulled back to smile at you before smashing his lips back onto yours more forcefully now, his hands sliding down your body as you swayed to the music, 

Your stomach turned flipped on itself, a sick feeling of guilt winding through you. It felt like cheating which was stupid, you weren't dating Five and Five wasn't in love with you. Five couldn’t have cared less you were doing this. 

Suddenly everything was too overwhelming, you pulled back, but stayed in Olivers arms. His face was flushed and a goofy smile was plastered across it. You weren't sure you could do this, a kiss was one thing, but more felt like too much more. 

You were kicking yourself, you were a coward, a hopelessly unrequited mess hung up on a time traveling genius who didn't end up with normal, boring girls like you.

You were abruptly pulled out of your mid makeout crisis when your arm was roughly yanked backwards and out of Oliver's arms. The alcohol made you unsteady and you'd almost tripped over stumbling into another body.

"Lila?" You blurted out confused when you turned to see the culprit, she looked furious.

"What the hell are you doing?" She barked at you loudly, you furrowed your brow at her, your mind trying to catch up with where Lila had just come from.

"(Y/N)?" Oliver asked moving closer, hand outstretched in concern. 

"Back off wanker" She spat pulling you roughly through the crowd. 

"Ow Lila!" You exclaimed, she was squeezing your wrist too hard. You quickly sent a reassuring wave and smile at Oliver behind you while Lila practically dragged you with her, your boozy legs not wanting to cooperate properly. 

As you made it off the dancefloor you were greeted with a few of the other Hargreeves family members, you smiled before realising they looked didn't look happy to see you at all, Diego in particular looked furious. 

"We're going home" Lila turned her head to tell you, not bothering to stop as she passed her family, even Luther and Sloane didn't meet your eye as you were tugged past. 

"Why?" You tried to pull your arm back. 

Lila turned to look at you with so much barely restrained fury you flinched, she didn't answer and you didn't fight her as she continued to pull you into the cold night air.

"I said I'm driving" You heard Diego arguing with Klaus as you tried to catch up with what the hell was happening. You were sitting in the back of Lila and Diego's van with Klaus, Sloane and Luther before you knew which way was up. 

Klaus sat beside you, the side of his mouth lifted at your confused gaze, but his expression was pinched. 

"Wait, I didn't tell them I was going!" You exclaimed looking back at the bar as the car jerked away from the curb throwing your body against your seatbelt.

“That’s what you’re worried about!?l Diego yelled, turning in his seat to glare at you, it made you flinch. You'd never been on the receiving end of a Hargreeves wrath before.


You looked over to Luther and Sloane, their mouths were tight and they were pointedly not looking at you. You were so confused, you were willing your brain to sober up a enough to make sense of this. 

"I can't believe this, how could you do this?!" Diego continued on driving the car faster than he should have been, white knuckle gripping the steering wheel, Lila was staring straight ahead seeming deep in thought. 

You were definitely missing something because you had wracked your brain several times over and you were pretty positive you hadn't done anything at all to warrant this level of outrage.

"Are you gonna say something?" Diego once again turned to look over his shoulder at you. 

"Just lay off, Diego" Klaus interjected "wait until we're home, she's drunk" 

"Lay off?! I haven't even started" Diego fired back. 

The car turned sharply and you grabbed onto the seat to steady yourself, you looked over to Klaus who's expression wasn't angry as he gazed down at you, it was worse, he looked disappointed.

"Has something happened?" You finally spoke up, as the words left your mouth you had a sudden scary thought "Is Five ok?" 

"Oh, so now you give a damn about Five, huh?" Diego sounded exasperated even though he let out a chuckle, shaking his head muttering things you couldn’t hear. 

The car pulled up in their driveway with a harsh jolt, you felt like the journey hear was way quicker than it should have been. You let yourself be led into the living room by Klaus who sat you down on the couch, the Hargreeves filed into the room each taking a seat, Lila pulled a chair from the kitchen into the room and planted herself down infront of you, Diego however was pacing back and forth looking like he was struggling not to explode. 

Klaus appeared beside you with a glass of water, you hadn't realise how thirsty you were, "Thanks" you muttered taking a long gulp. 

No one had answered you about Five yet and anxiety was building in your chest. 

"How long?" Lila asked, the way she was staring into your eyes was intimidating the hell out of you.

"How long what?" You asked back creasing your brow. 

"How long have you been fucking that guy?!" Diego exploded making your head snap towards him in surprise

"Diego, let me do the interrogating honey" Lila reprimanded, but turned to you expectantly.

"Oliver?" You asked quietly, what was their problem with Oliver?

"That the assholes name, huh? Oliver what a dumb ass name" Diego was muttering to himself. 

"Well?" Lila widened her eyes at you expectantly. You suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable being stared at under a spotlight like this , this was your personal life and you could do whatever the hell you wanted. 

"I don't see how thats any of your business" You replied steadily, Lila looked like she could have slapped you, the twitch in her hand made you pretty sure she wanted to. 

"Our brother is our business" Diego stalked forward towards you "I never would have picked you for something like this, we all thought of you like family, Five worships the ground you walk on" You leaned back into the couch, Diego's voice was measured, but it felt oddly like being yelled at. 

"It stops now. You tell him when he gets back or we will" Luther spoke for the first time, all business and no nonsense, nothing like the goofy big guy you'd come to know over the last few years. Sloane locked eyes with you before dropping them, a sullen look on her face.

"I'm sorry" You closed your eyes for a moment raising your hand up before running it across your face "why are you all so pissed?" You turned your confused gaze to Klaus.

"Well, I imagine it was having our night interrupted by our brothers girlfriend playing tonsil hockey with some guy who's definitely not our brother" Klaus answered, his delivery was light, but his tone was clipped. 

"Five's gonna be devastated, is this what do while he's away at work? I just- I just- I just can't figure out why you'd do this to him, you guys are happy, aren’t you happy?” Diego was pacing again.

Your brain short circuited. 

Girlfriend?

"Are you talking about me?" You asked bewildered. You weren't sober enough for this conversation because clearly you were missing something here. 

"Well as far as I know there wasn't anyone else out cheating on Five tonight" Lila answered back sarcastically. 

"You-" You couldn't even find the words, what in the actual hell was going on "I'm not Five's girlfriend" 

The room went silent.

"You can't be that drunk, if this is your idea of a ruse, it's a shit one" Lila raised her eyebrow looking annoyed.

"Let me get this straight" you leaned back in your chair closing your eyes for a brief moment to organise your thoughts "you think I'm Five's girlfriend and you caught me cheating on him" You glanced at all the faces around the room.

"Yeah, obviously" Lila's face scrunched up in confusion. 

"Well, you're missing one very important piece of that puzzle, I'm not his girlfriend" you shot back.

"You live together" Sloane suddenly piped up

"We're roommates" 

"You're always together, you went on a date last Saturday" Luther joined in. 

"We're friends, it wasn't a date it was a classic car show"

“You’re like a boring old married couple, I saw you arguing over whether to have blueberry or chocolate chip muffins with your afternoon tea last week! ” Klaus looked at you imploringly.

“I’m not boring” You spluttered

"You're definitely knocking boots" Lila raised an expectant eyebrow. 

"No, absolutely not. Wait, you know that" You shook your head confused and turned to look at Sloane who also definitely knew that. You remembered the conversation with them about how you were most definitely not sleeping with Five despite everyone believing the contrary, but you cleared that up a year ago and no one ever brought it up again.

"But our birthday" Klaus sounded mystified, your heart started pounding. 

How did they know about that night, did Five tell them what happened? You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole. 

"What about it?" You feigned innocence. 

"Our master plan to make sure you two emotionally stunted sweethearts finally admitted you wanted to jump each others bones" Klaus looked at Lila who looked panicked at his admission.

“What plan?" You swivelled your head between them.

"Well, we thought Five was being a cowardly little shit and needed a nudge in the right direction " Lila's smile grew cheesy and fake, you were sure she could feel the anger and embarrassment radiating off you.

"It seemed like a giant success, I mean, when I drove you both home Allison and I were worried you were going to get it on in the back seat if I wasn't quick enough" Klaus replied laughing and nodding at his siblings, you were definitely red in the face.

"No!" You said borderline hysterical "that definitely did not happen" This was hands down the most embarrassing moment of your life. 

"Wait, hold on, you aren't cheating on Five?" Diego asked with a hand in his hair.

"No, we're just friends" You desperately wanted to end this conversation “you can ask him if you don’t believe me” you offered. 

"Holy shit" Diego looked equal parts stunned and horrified.

“But you two-“ Luther looked like he was struggling to find words “you’re both- you always-you know!” he exclaimed, his hands waving in front of himself. 

"I need more water" you muttered going to the kitchen. 

What an absolute nightmare, clearly the way you felt about Five was so obvious his own family thought you two were together, you were absolutely fucking tragic. You had to do damage control, the single worst thing you could think of happening in your life right now was the idea of Five looking at you with pity in is eyes if he found out about your feelings. 

"Hey" Lila and Sloane both slunk into the kitchen as you were downing your water "I think we need to talk" 

"What was this master plan Klaus was talking about?" You raised an annoyed eyebrow in their direction.

"Well, it all started last year on the twins birthday"




A/N - thanks for reading if you got this far, most of this was a set up for another, hopefully, two parts to this series.

[jeremiah-fisher]

you and me,

—a the summer i turned pretty fic starring my first and favourite book boyfriend, jeremiah fisher ♡

「moments: proposal, reader insert」

JEREMIAH

— age twenty-five

It comes on so suddenly, this increasingly desperate and raging pain in the middle of my chest. I can’t breathe from it, I can’t form words, and when I sit up in bed as a result, I’m nearly toppling out of it as I try to reach for the glass of water I keep nearby. My hand misses it by an inch and just that inch, that small, miniscule measurement, causes the grief in my heart to smother me whole. 

I want to cry. Cry and cry and cry until there is nothing left inside of me.

Though hesitation bleeds into my skin, I quietly bring my eyes to the right. There, huddled beneath a thick, white blanket is the girl I met when I was ten years old. Back then, she was everything to me–my neighbour, my friend, my crush. And now, she’s more. More of everything I wanted with her from the beginning.

The edges of my lips tug upwards as I think about the dream which pulled me from tonight’s slumber. 

I’m with my mom and we’re in the living room. Mom’s wearing one of her sundresses, the ones Dad says he loves seeing her in. He always talks about Mom like she’s the most beautiful person in the world. And he says it a lot, too. “Your mom’s so pretty, isn’t she, Jere?” and “Susannah Fisher, you are the most gorgeous woman on this earth.” And whenever he says it, my mom blushes the colour of figs and watermelons.

“Mom,” I whine, trying to pull her away from her book. She’s reading something Laurel wrote. It has her name on the cover. Funny thing is, Mom’s reading it backwards. When I jump on the sofa beside her, I find out she’s on her phone. “Mom! What’s that?”

Mom chuckles and puts her book down, and then she pulls me up against her. She shows me her phone. “Do you want to go to Disneyland for Christmas, Jeremiah?” 

“Disneyland?! Really?!”

She ruffles my hair then kisses my forehead. “Yes, Disneyland, my angel. Does that sound fun?”

“Yeah! But…” I think about all the rides and the food when another thought flies in. “Can we take YN? And Belly? And Steven? And Laurel?”

Mom smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, we can ask them if they would like to come.” 

Excitedly, I jumped back off the sofa and say, “Can I go to YN’s house and ask, Please, Mom? Pretty please?”

Mom shakes her head. “No. You have to wait until the grown-ups talk about it first. Then you can ask. Okay?” 

I pout. “But…” 

“A little bit of patience is a good thing, Jere. I promise you can ask YN and Belly and Steven when the time comes.” Mom picks up her book again and sets her phone aside. The screen lights up with a picture of me and Conrad as babies in Dad’s arms. “Now go play with the others.” 

I take a seat beside her again and squish myself into her. “I wanna stay with you.”

Mom doesn’t say anything and just pulls me in closer, and then she reads to me about a girl who lost her bicycle. 

We never got to take that trip to Disneyland because by that October, Mom had fainted during a PTA meeting at me and Conrad’s school and Dad asked Aunt Maggie to take care of us whilst Mom was in the hospital being diagnosed with breast cancer. 

As the memories of the past overwhelm my senses, I quietly shift out of bed, my wobbly knees bringing me to my full height. I pad my way across the carpeted room, down the hall and towards the balcony. I don’t know what time it is but if I make a guess off the pinks and oranges in the sky, I would say it’s just about to be sunrise. 

I slide the balcony door open and step out. A hint of spring in the air collides with my nose, and I breathe it in over and over. I can’t believe it’s already the beginning of May. YN and I celebrated New Year’s Eve with our friends just yesterday. At least, that’s what it feels like. To think that summer is just a few weeks away is crazy to me. When I was a kid, summers were all I looked forward to because they meant no school, no homework, Cousins Beach, and seeing my friends again. Now, summers are a perpetual reminder of what I lost. Of what I can’t get back.

With a hefty sigh, I take a seat on the armchair YN picked out for the balcony at IKEA a few months ago. We moved into this apartment after she finished her Masters at Boston University and got a job at a lab in the city. 

Each morning, she leaves for work before the sun rises and then returns just after it has set. My schedule working for my Dad is similar. 

I never thought I’d take him up on the offer to head the main branch of our bank in Boston, but here I am. I wonder what Mom would think if she were here. She always wanted me and Conrad to do our own thing. She never wanted us to rely on the family for everything. Now that I have, several times over, would she be displeased?

When the tears come, I embrace them, the way Mom always taught us to. Mom said tears were a good thing; they meant that we could feel deeply. Without her here, I feel everything so deeply–love, loss, sadness, depression. The doctors would always tell Dad that it was a toss-up with Mom. If the medicine and the treatments worked, we could see her living up to fifty, sixty, or seventy years old. If they didn’t, then…

I hold my head in my hands as the sobs wrack out of me in waves as ferocious as the sea during winters. They rush through my whole body, making me weaker and weaker. Mom used to say that time heals wounds, but this one won’t. It won’t heal or get better. It just seems to get worse. I’ll think about her in my sleep and when I’m awake and when I’m in meetings and I’ll wish and wish for things to be different and they won’t be. They never will. 

A whimper flows from between my lips when a pair of familiar arms wrap themselves around me. And then a head, a head I have known and loved and kissed, sets itself on my back and I let out all the cries I was still holding back. 

“She felt s-so real,” I find myself whispering, breathing in broken puffs of air as my lungs expand alongside the despair within me. I claw at my heart. “I felt her in here. I thought I could hear her laugh. I heard her call my name…”

Her arms tighten their grip on me. She kisses the top of my head, over and over. I can feel her trying not to cry, too, her chest still shaking from the pressure of it. “I know. I know.” 

“It felt so real.” I breathe in again, quieter this time. “All of it.”

YN slips down in front of me, crouching so that we are face to face. One of her arms remains steady and soft on the back of my neck whilst the other finds its way down, and then her hand is touching my face and she is tilting it up so our eyes can meet. 

“Let’s go somewhere,” she suggests, her voice soft and packed with the remnants of sleep. She was up later than I was last night, finishing up a report for work. She couldn’t have slept more than four hours. “You and me.”

“I don’t…” I start to shake my head, but she smiles and pushes my hair back. I fall into her touch, a reminder of the love I still have. A love that has been by my side since I was a kid. “Okay… where?”

“It’s a secret,” she whispers back, and then she leans in to kiss my lips. “Go put on your shoes and I’ll meet you at the door.”

I don’t bother asking her anything else because I know she will not tell me. YN is the best at keeping secrets. If you tell her something, you will never hear her repeat it to someone else. Not ever. For all those years she thought I didn’t love her, her secret-keeping skills had come in handy. Even now, as I sit in the passenger seat and she loads the trunk with our to-go bags, I know her secret is zipped tight. 

I fall asleep barely five minutes into the drive. When I wake up again, it is to the scent of a McDonald’s breakfast, steaming hot coffee, and the sound of pebbles beneath the tires. I lift my head to find the summer house looking back at me.

“Welcome home, Fishie,” YN says, unbuckling her belt and then mine.

I turn my head to stare at her as she steps out of the car. Her, standing in the doorway of our car, I’m more in love than I thought was possible for my heart. Each moment with her feels like finding love again and again. “I’ll get the bags–”

“No,” she shakes her head and tosses me the keys. “You can go and open the door.” 

I do as she says and step out of the door with the keys to the summer house folded in my right palm. My legs are a bit shaky as I step towards it, this home that meant more than my real one in Boston. We were only ever here for the summers, for a few short months every year since before I was even born, but it’s always been the pinnacle of my happiness. I think it became that way for all of us summer kids.

When I take my first step inside, nostalgia collides with my chest. We don’t come to the summer house as much since Mom passed away, and I don’t remember the last time anyone made plans to do so either. All of us – me, YN, Belly, Steven, Conrad, Laurel, and my dad – we were all so busy all the time. Adulthood was just one thing after the next and even though we promised we would keep coming back, holiday work parties and busy summer schedules kept us from doing so. Regret fills me as I walk around the house, taking in everything just as my mother had left it.

Nothing is out of place, not even from the time Belly stayed here and acted as if she didn’t. We all knew she had. Conrad especially. Sometimes, he would ask me if he should go and “surprise” her there and I would get pissed at him for still not being mature enough to fix things with her.

I walk into the kitchen and pull open the curtains, letting morning sun into the kitchen Mom loved so much. All my life, she cooked and baked here every day for us. Laurel hated cooking, but Mom loved it and so it became an unwritten rule that she would cook and her best friend would clean and gather us kids from around town for dinner. 

A thought occurs to me as I push open the last of the curtains. I go to the drawer beneath the kitchen counter, just opposite the stove, and pull out something Mom adored: her yellow Martha Stewart kitchen timer. It was the first thing she had bought for this house on her own after my grandparents passed it down to her and Dad. 

I set the timer to 3:07. Mom’s birthday.

YN walks into the kitchen a moment later. Her smile takes my breath away. Even within all the sadness and fear, one look at her and I know I still have enough of what matters to make this life worth living.

“I put our bags upstairs,” she says, walking over to take a seat on a breakfast chair. There were so many times when we were little that I would find her sitting in this exact same spot next to Belly as my mom told them a story. She would be sipping her tea and the girls would be listening to each word she said like it was a holy book. “Do you want to sleep some more?”

I shake my head. “I think I wanna go surfing.”

YN’s eyes light up. “I’ll go grab our boards.”

A few minutes later, YN and I are in the water. We don’t say anything to each other and we ride the waves over and over until we are too tired to keep going.

Back on the sand with our boards next to us, YN tilts her head and smiles at me, shy and pretty. “Feeling better?”

For a minute, I stare at her and I just take her in. This girl who I met when I was just a kid; a kid who loved swimming and playing pranks on his friends and listening to his mother read on the couch. This girl and her deep brown eyes and her wavy hair and her skin I’ve kissed so many times. This girl who I love more than anyone else in the world.

“Marry me.”

Those gorgeous brown eyes sparkle, and her smile widens. “What…?”

I move closer so I can take her into my arms. I put them around her and bring her into my lap. YN puts her hands on my face, touching me enough to take all my pain away. I lean up and kiss her mouth. And again, I ask her, “Marry me, YN. I don’t have a ring. I don’t have anything except myself. But, marry me and I promise I’ll make you happy until I die.”

YN’s eyes flood with unshed tears as they roam every inch of my face. And then her fingers are softly brushing over my brows and my eyes and my cheeks and my lips. She brings her mouth to mine and whispers, “You already do. You always have.”

I kiss her, smiling as she smiles on my lips, feeling all the love between us as infinite as the waves we are surrounded by.

[ofmermaidstories]

I LOVE HEARING YOU TALK ABOUT STARDEW

If you don't mind me asking, how often do you play stardew valley? do you play at night? with a cup of tea?

please! i am dying to talk about it!!! i tend to play games in solid, obsessed blocks. so i’ve been playing every day for the last couple of weeks, now, but before that it’d been months and months since i touched it last. i’ll play whenever! whenever i have time, or throughout the day if it’s a lazy one. i like to play in stretches, and i consider it a treat to, so i’ll often have a snack ready or a drink (sometimes that cuppa you mentioned, often a juice box tho bc im like, five, lmao). i only have two saves!! my first one, delilah, where i didn’t know what i was doing and got bored of, really quickly—and my current one, my second one! it uses my real name, lmao, which tbh i’m not sure i like—it’s always jarring when the other characters say things to me. 💀 we’re currently in winter, in year five. the farm is called Sea Dreams, and it’s a beach property. i completely ignored the warnings about it not being for beginners lmfao, but i quite like it! beyond the romanticism of being on the beach of this like, inland sea cove, i like that the sand means only a fraction of the land is actually good for proper farming. i use the proper soil, the real soil, for my seasonal crops and then let patches of trees grow throughout the rest of the farm. my fruit trees are near the bat cave; in front of my house i grow small plots of flowers. and then by the shore i keep the animals. i’ve fenced them so they get trees and the pond and the sea as well; if i’m spending the day on the farm i’ll sometimes hear the plop! of the ducks, gliding onto the cove’s waters. they always look so contented. 🥹 if i’m there in the evenings, when it’s time for them to turn into the barn or the coop, i’ll stand on the shore and wait for them to drift back—they’re always last in, on those days.

i have a single fish pond, so far, towards the south of the property—it’s filled with sturgeon and from their eggs i make caviar. i make goats cheese and bread and mayonnaise and at the end of every season i harvest the flowers that grew and ride into town on my horse, grover, and hand them out. in the warm months my farm is covered in grass, everywhere! on the last day of autumn i cut it all down, for hay. my greenhouse is on a little island of it’s own, with grandpa’s shrine behind it: inside i grow more flowers, and fruit trees, and strawberries, blueberries, ancient fruit, starfruit. i hope to get a second mango sapling at some point, to grow in the greenhouse—my first one is now planted among my peach trees, waiting for it’s first summer.

fairy roses are my favourite flower. every autumn, during the stardew fair, i always include a pink one, one of my best, in my grange display for the competition. this year my setup included my best goats cheese; my best, aged wine. my best peach and my best orange! caviar, my fairy rose, a bottle of truffle oil and a jar of fairy rose honey, and then lastly, a tulip from spring, lavender-dawn in colour.

(i always win, and i always feel so smug about it. i hate pierre so much lmao, he’s such a dick.)

hmm, what else can i tell you? i’ve only just made it to the skull caverns! they stress me out so bad. 💀 recently tho (like, today, lmfao), i found my first dinosaur egg! and my first two prismatic shards—i saved the first shard in a chest in my barn, and with the other got a sword. the dinosaur egg is currently incubating! i’m so excited for it to live among my chickens and my ducks and my rabbits. 🥹

i really, really like the magic realism that’s steeped into the valley. beyond the atmosphere of the game (the freedom of leaving behind a life that was stifling you, and finding a home in the valley you’d never even dared dreamed of, before) the magic of the world is like, the number one factor in me wanting to write a AU for it. i like—things like the fairy stones. An old miner's song suggests these are made from the bones of ancient fairies. i like things like finding the burnished copper helmets of the dwarves; i like that we can wear one. i like that sometimes, in the night, there’s a rustle of wings and the next morning when you step outside there’s an owl statue, nestled somewhere on your farm like it’s been there for centuries. there’s a junimo hut in the secret, wooded area of pine trees on my farm. they’re too far from the crops to appear, but sometimes when i ride past in the dusk, just when it’s getting dark, you can hear the flicker of flames—the open doorway to their little home glowing. there’s also a secret altar to yoba, amid the trees; the dull steel of the sign of the vessel hidden away against the dark green. there’s just so much to it! i feel like you could dig deep, go deep, literally deep in the mines, and still not understand the world. and it makes me want to write that, lmao. the whole game just makes me want to write! just the world of it—waking up at six am, every morning. learning how to make something of the land before you, how to grow things, how to care for things, animals. walking into town to buy seeds. galloping into town, or down to the forest. one of my favourite touches, in the game, is how sometimes there’ll be a flock of birds on the path, pecking at something—and when you come along they all take flight, all together. and there’s a moment, every time, where you’re in the middle of it, the the beat of the wings—running or riding with them, almost. that’s what i wanna write about. the ride into town, slipping from the horse, breathless, in front of the general store or the saloon. i haven’t married anyone in my save, yet; i can’t decide on who i want to live with. so many of them are sweethearts. i like elliot a lot, recently. he wrote a romance novel for me. 🥺 but originally i wanted to date alex—i love his grandparents. on the last day of autumn i’ll take my fairy roses into town for his grandmother, and for jasmine. but saying that sebastian’s also grown on me; as has haley. sometimes i think i’ll just ask krobus, deep in his sewer, to move in with me instead—but i have an empty nursery in my house and sometimes i wonder if it’d be fun to have someone to have kids with.

(but then i swing back and forth on it—it creeps me out that the kids never age. 🥹 eternal toddlers, stumbling around the house. maybe i’ll have them just to see what it’s like, and then go to the witch’s hut to turn them into doves and let them go.)

if i wrote a stardew valley AU for my hero, i think it’d be just as hard to pick an endgame in-fic. do we pick izuku, and his rabbits? or bakugou and his explosions, up in the quarry? shouto, following us from the city, trying to leave behind the massive corporation that’s eating the world up that he’s set to inherit? idk! anyways. that’s off-topic. 🥹 do you play, anon??? what’s your favourite part? what’s your farm like???? do you like to have a cuppa in hand, when you settle in to play?

[kasienda]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

thank you @ladyofthenoodle for the tag!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

36!! Insanity. When did that happen?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

971,786 I was trying to break a million this year. It's gonna be close.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Miraculous Ladybug!!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

A Miraculous Reveal

The Five Minute Adventures of Snake Noir

An Open Secret

Restorative Justice (This one broke 1000!!!! Yay!!)

Confessions to a Statue

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! I usually get to most of them. When a fic is old, I don't always manage it. I just enjoy comments so much, and I try to acknowledge and express appreciation for the positive impact they have on me!

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably Going It Alone (Sailor Moon), though it could be Last Wishes (Ladybug)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I'm gonna go with -> Let Yourself Be Happy

8. Do you get hate on fics?

It happens. It's not frequent though.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, when I have to. I write loving wholesome smut that is fueled purely by spite.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

No. The idea of crossovers are strange to me.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No? Hope not anyway!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Someone asked if they could once, but I don't think it got finished.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not technically. But sometimes I push my betas to have a pretty heavy hand.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Probably Lovesquare, but I covet Adrino more in that it's rarer, so whenever I find it I obsess. But I think love sqaure is more dynamic. There's more to do and explore with it. I get more ideas for them. But Adrino has become my comfort ship. When I'm sad or on the cusp of breaking I turn to Adrino.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Coming Of Age (Sailor Moon) - I just don't live and breathe this one anymore, but it's such a good premise.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. Satisfying arcs/endings.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Imagery/Description

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I use to have Japanese words in some of my Sailor Moon fic. I LOVED honorifics!! I started to use less and less Japanese (besides honorifics. I always kept those. They're versatile in storytelling for showing how a relationship is changing. I love them!) because I felt like it hindered understanding in places. But I can't spell in French for some reason. Can't even get myself to consistently use Monsieur instead of Mr. Haha!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Chrono Trigger Or actually, I did some roleplaying on message boards for Wheel of Time back in the day!

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

I think right now it's Aftermath, but it's not done. Neither is Right Behind You, which is my other favorite. Haha! Of my finished fics, I'd probably choose Restorative Justice.

no pressure tags: @thelibraryloser @jennagrinsoverml @chocoluckchipz @miabrown007 @jattendschaton @coffeebanana @bittersweetresilience, @wackus-bonkus-maximus @pisoprano @bbutterflies @celestialtitania

[get-infectious]

Young, Dumb, and Broken: Chapter 1 - The Welcome Wagon

Read: AO3 FFN Quotev Wattpad

Summary: **Alternative Universe Fic** Twenty-Six-year-old Gregory House is a medical genius who now has a new team of diagnosticians to lead. It's difficult to run a department when nobody understands how someone so young moved up so quickly.

Chapter Tags: N/A

Keep Reading to read chapter

"What part of this is confusing to you?" The young man snapped at the security guard. "I work here." Getting frustrated, he shifted the heavy backpack further up on his shoulder. 

"Let me see your ID."

"My-… are you serious?" He chuckled, pulling his wallet out from his back pocket. "I understand that you don't typically work this early in the morning…." He started as he was digging through his unorganised wallet in search of his driver's license. "But I really, really hope that this small amount of power is enough to get your wife through the most disappointing two minutes of her life." He flicked the card towards the guard, who snatched it from him. "Did I hit a nerve?" 

The security guard opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by heels clicking through the lobby tile floor. The young man didn't have to turn around to know who was coming their way, closing his eyes and letting out a deep sigh, knowing that if she heard his comments, he would surely be pulled into her office. His argument was always the same; it's not his fault that everyone around him is a moron and should do what he says no matter what. 

"What's going on?" Dr. Cuddy questioned. "Not asking you," she cut the young man off quickly as soon as he opened his mouth to speak. She had no idea what might be coming from his mouth and wanted to avoid as much verbal back and forth as possible. "What's going on?" She asked again towards the guard. 

He turned the name badge and driver's license towards Cuddy so she could look closer. 

"Claims he works here?"

Cuddy flashed him a puzzled look, not understanding what the problem was. He had the proper identification, so what was the holdup?

"Yeah? That's Dr. House. He works for me. What's the problem?" 

All the colour drained from the guard's face, doing everything that he could to avoid glancing at the smug look on House's face. Cuddy couldn't be too upset; if she didn't know who he was and he was trying to tell her that he was an M.D. here, she would be sceptical too. She understood the possible risks of hiring a twenty-five-year-old diagnostician, only thinking that patients would question his title and age, not the security guards holding all the proper identifications. 

"That's my bad. Forgot my bald spot today." House ruffled through his thick, curly hair. "Won't let it happen again." Cuddy lightly smacked his arm, her way of telling him to shut up before he made things worse. Rolling his eyes, House held a hand out to the guard. "Can I go now?" 

The security guard looked between the two before placing the cards back in his hands. 

"Thanks. Dickhead." 

"Okay!" Cuddy grabbed his backpack, forcing him to follow her along back to her office. Not before mouthing thank you, sorry to the guard as they walked away.

House backed away from her grip; she knew that he didn't like to be touched in any way, shape, or form. It always made him feel angry and trapped, which was difficult to describe. Still, Cuddy always reassured him that she understood what he was trying to say. If that was true, then why did she insist on breaking that boundary whenever it was convenient for her? 

"Don't do that!" He shouted, readjusting his backpack again. 

"Well, I wouldn't have to do that if you would just behave yourself!" She opened the door to her office, motioning for House to step inside. "You were acting like a child!" Cuddy continued the lecture as soon as the door shut behind her. "You're-"

"You're a doctor, yes, yes, I know." House rolled his eyes, dropping his backpack to the floor before sitting on his favourite spinny chair in her office, legs crossed before using the edge of her desk to get the chair to spin around. 

"How many times-"

"At least ten times a day," House cut her off, giving himself another spin. 

"I didn't-"

"Finish your sentence. I know."

"Stop." Cuddy placed a hand on the chair, stopping it instantly and almost throwing House off. "Focus on me." 

House heard that strict tone before, every day, in fact. Something about this tone made him watch silently as she sat behind her desk. Cuddy was silently surprised that he didn't protest or make a crude comment towards her. She hated that the rare times that he would listen to her, he gave her that puppy dog look waiting for her to speak; it always made her heart drop, knowing that she had said something that must have dented his narcissist wall, even a little bit. 

"What did we talk about last time we were here?" Cuddy questioned, trying to gauge exactly where he was mentally. 

House glanced around the room before his eyes dropped to his fidgety hands. Suddenly, he didn't feel like a doctor who got pulled into his boss's office; now, he felt like a child being scolded by his mother for disappointing her. Did he feel guilty? He'd like to think not, but deep, deep down, he knew that he didn't want to be that vulnerable towards anybody. Not even to somebody like Cuddy and Wilson, who knew him the best. 

"Hit a nerve?" Cuddy questioned, mimicking the exact words he told the guard. 

Any and all guilt that House could have felt at that moment was thrown out the window, and Cuddy knew it. The way his eyes snapped up at her, giving her a slight glare, knowing precisely what she was trying to do. 

"It's not my fault!" House snapped. "He-"

"Was doing his job. I understand it's frustrating, but he was just doing his job." 

The two doctors stared at each other silently for what felt like forever, waiting for the other to say something. Cuddy has learned by now that the only way to beat House was to play along with him. If he was going to be rude towards her, she would fire back. Sarcastic? Same treatment. If anything, it made House impressed and even respected her more. 

"We talked about how you handle things, remember?" 

House mumbled something under her breath, leaning against his propped-up arm on the armrest. Good. She was getting somewhere. 

“And… you have to be….?” 

House tilted his head to the side as if he had no idea what she was going on about. 

"Niiiceer…." She finished slowly. 

"I am nice! It's not my fault that-"

"We also talked about how nothing is your fault. People aren't out to get you, House. How can I make you understand that?" 

"Not in my experience," he mumbled. 

"Well, thank God I'm here to protect you, huh?" 

House wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic or was trying to make him feel better. Hearing that she had to protect him was a massive blow to his ego. He didn't need anyone to defend him; he could handle himself.

"I don't need your protection."

"Uhhuh…. I want you to think of it this way, Greg."

"Don't call me that."

"…ory. If you were in any other hospital in the world, do you think they'd put up with your bullshit every day?" 

"If I was also one of their best doctors? Yes."

"No." 

"Yes."

"House…." Cuddy pinched the bridge of her nose, knowing that this wasn't going anywhere at this point. Thankfully, she knew exactly how to get through to him. "Okay. If you don't want to listen, this is what we are going to do."

"No."

"Yes."

"No!" 

"House. Clinic work. Two hours. Now." 

"That isn't fair!" House quickly stood up from the chair as if intimidating her would change the fact her mind was made up.

"Are you a doctor or a child?"

"Can't I be both? That's how people see me anyways."

"I'm not talking about this anymore. Go."

House snatched up his backpack next to the chair, throwing it over his shoulder as he walked towards the door. 

"Oh, and House?" He stopped in his tracks, letting out a groan as he turned around. "Don't forget - your new hires start today."

"New hires?" 

Cuddy rested her hands on her desk, staring at him, wondering if he was serious. 

"Right… new hires. Of course… how could I ever forget."

"The doctors you had me interview for you. Remember?" 

House waved a finger towards her, acting as if he knew exactly what she was talking about. All he could remember about any new hires was that he was given a stack of files of people he would have hired. Apparently, he ignored the fact that he was seriously hiring these people for his team. House couldn't remember anything about his apparent employees, let alone their names. Oh well. He could fake it. 

"Remember." House tapped the side of his head before opening the door. "Of course. I remember everything." 

"Straight to the clinic!" 

"I'm going!" He called from the hallway. 

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

Sitting in the waiting room, House had propped his feet up on the coffee table, reading an old magazine that he must have read at least a thousand times. When would they update their collection? Oh well, it's better than having to deal with all of these idiots who come in thinking they're dying when, in reality, it was just the common cold. 

Another hour of doing this. 

"House!" 

Lovely.  

He sunk further down into his seat as if that would hide him from his boss. If only that worked.

Dr. Cuddy snatched the magazine from his hands, tossing it on the coffee table beside his feet. Only for her to nudge him until he moved his feet from the table. 

"Get up."

"Wrong magazine for that." He stared at the file that she was holding out to him. He let out a defeated sigh; whoever snitched on him from the reception desk didn't want to make his life easy. "What is this?" 

"Good luck." 

Rolling his head back, House let out a groan before standing up. He grabbed his backpack before flipping through the file as he started walking towards the exam room. A tear in the throat? Okay, that could be interesting. 

House swung the door open, throwing his backpack in as hard as he could so it skidded across the floor until it bumped into the wall. 

"Good morning!" House shouted upon seeing how worried the patient and the person with them were. Had to shake them up a little more; that was always the fun of it. "What's wrong with you?" He questioned, slamming the door shut behind him. 

“I… are you…” The man trailed off, to be stopped when House held up his ID card. 

"Dr. House. You're Robert Smith?" The patient only nodded, having difficulty wrapping his head around the fact that this was his doctor. Not considering the age, but the way he was dressed and his entrance. The oversized flannel shirt with a t-shirt underneath. "Ripped something in your throat?" House continued reading from the file. 

"Yes, sir." 

"Pain? Burning?" Dr. House questioned as he washed his hands and threw on some gloves. "When did this happen?" He grabbed a tongue depressor, sitting on the stool before pushing himself towards him. 

"No pain…. I noticed it yesterday." 

"No pain," Dr. House repeated under his breath. He waved his hand. "Open your mouth." 

As soon as House pressed the tongue depressor down on his tongue, he flinched when the patient coughed on him. It only took two seconds for House to determine that…. There was nothing wrong. No rips, no tears. Nothing. 

"Trying some kinky shit? Got paranoid?" House questioned, sitting back on the stool and looking between the two. "What am I looking for?" 

"Do you not see it?" The woman with him snapped, motioning towards him. "Look again. You barely-"

"Well, I see who wears the pants." House let out a frustrated sigh, scooting back closer to him. "Open." 

No blood…. Again, nothing out of the ordinary. No sore throat.

"I give up," House stated. "You seem to be a doctor. What am I looking for?" 

The woman groaned, moving to stand next to House. 

"It's right there!" She shouted, causing House to flinch again from the loud noise. 

"Where?" 

"Are you sure you're a doctor?" 

House let out a frustrated sigh, trying to keep himself calm and under control. They were making it rather difficult. 

"Show me then." House rolled out of the way, handing the tongue depressor over to her, knowing that he should never do it, but if she knew everything. 

"Right there!" She reached into her boyfriend's mouth. 

"Don't-"

Without getting his words out quickly, the patient began to gag, getting ready to throw up. House, being House, was no help to them. He watched smugly while the patient threw up on the woman. 

"What's wrong with you?!" She shouted at him. 

"I'm sorry!" Smith responded, wiping the saliva off his face. 

At that moment, House could put two and two together, looking between them. Were they serious? Were they trying to waste his time, or were they two of the dumbest people he had the pleasure of meeting that day? 

"Hold on…." House motioned for Smith to open his mouth again. "Are you both talking about this?" He pointed at the uvula. 

"Yes!" 

"I have just received a gift…." House mumbled to himself, standing up and grabbing his file from the counter. "You do know what a uvula is, don't you?" 

The couple looked at each other, their faces drained of all colour at this point. 

"That's normal. There is no tear. Thank your insurance for me."

Smith scoffed. "It is not normal!" 

House rolled his eyes. "You. Open your mouth." He directed at the girl. 

"Wha- Why?" 

"Open." 

Complying, she opened her mouth just for House to stick a tongue depressor in her mouth. 

"See that? She has it, too."

"What does it do?"

"Keeps you from shooting food and water out your nose." House opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out so they could see his own uvula. 

The exam room door opened, causing House to turn around with his mouth still open. Cuddy was standing there, confused about what she had just walked into. House had both hands in both mouths with his mouth open and his tongue sticking out. 

"I… What is going on?" 

"Teaching them what a uvula is. I'm actually glad you're here, Dr. Cuddy." 

"Oh no…." 

House moved away from them, ripping his gloves off. "Open your mouth." 

"Excuse me?" 

"Help me out with a consult." 

"Are you kidding me? No, get away from me!" 

"Help me out!" House gently grabbed Cuddy's face until she reluctantly opened her mouth. "See? Uvula. We all have one!" Cuddy pushed his hand away from her face. "Can you do me a favour?" 

"What?" They both asked at the same time.

House grabbed a prescription pad from his back pocket, flipping it open to a new page. 

"I need you both to start taking this." 

"House!" Cuddy snapped upon seeing what he was prescribing them. "No!" 

"This is a sedative," he continued, ignoring his boss's protest. "Please take three if either of you ever decide to waste my time again. Four if it's really idiotic. You'll be so high you won't even remember what it was." When he ripped it out and tried handing it over to them, Cuddy snatched it from him, pushing him out of the exam room. "I was doing my job!" House shouted upon hearing Cuddy apologise to both of them for his 'behaviour.' Which wasn't out of line in his eyes. They come in for stupid questions; he would waste their time equally. 

"Aw man, it's all the joys of doing this, huh?" 

House quickly turned around to see thirty-two-year-old Dr. Wilson standing behind him, eating a cupcake, which only made him a little jealous as he wanted one now. 

"Where did you get that?" 

"Doesn't matter." 

They were both silent momentarily before something in House's brain clicked. 

"Wait, what are you doing here?" 

"IOU to Cuddy." 

"Eesh. If you want, you can choke on your snack, and we both can get out of here." 

Wilson laughed at this; he had to admit that there were times that House could be funny rather than downright rude and mean, so he had to give him credit where it was due. It wasn't often that House caused him to laugh. All the young doctor knew was that his expression would fall whenever he did, and his heart would drop into his stomach. For someone who was a know-it-all, he surely didn't have an explanation as to why this was his reaction upon hearing somebody laugh, especially since hearing it from anybody else was like nails on a chalkboard. House could feel his face heating up; he had to turn away quickly so Wilson wouldn't see. 

The exam door swung open, and the couple practically stormed out without glancing at Dr. House. 

"What did you do?" Wilson questioned, tilting his head to the side with a puppy dog look. 

As soon as House opened his mouth to speak to clear his good name since he would never do anything wrong, let alone upset a patient, Cuddy quickly followed after. She shoved House's backpack into his arms, giving him that disappointed mother look. 

"Your office later?" House quickly asked with a slight smile on his face, knowing exactly where this was going. 

"Wow. You're so smart." Rolling her eyes, Cuddy stormed off, hoping she could smooth this entire thing over in case it somehow escalated. 

"Think she's mad?" 

"Nah. You would never upset her, House." 

"That's what I'm saying. Probably just a slap on the wrist."

Wilson hummed, holding out half of the cupcake he had been snacking on to him. "Big day for you, isn't it?" 

"What're you talking about?" House questioned before taking a rather large bit of the food. "Every day's a big day for me." 

"Isn't it the day that your new hires start?" 

"Interesting…."

Before Wilson could ask what the hell he was on about, House wandered off without another word.

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

"So, have either of you even met Dr. House yet?" Dr. Cameron questioned the other two newly hired doctors, trying to break the silence between them while they waited.

Chase and Foreman looked at each other, shrugging before looking back to Cameron. 

"No… Dr. Cuddy was the one who interviewed me," Chase explained, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"Yeah, me too," Foreman agreed.��

"Man, he sounds like an ass," an unknown voice came from behind a magazine, sitting across from the three new doctors. The young man, who couldn't be any older than mid-twenties, quickly dropped the magazine to his lap. He didn't appear to be a doctor of any sort; he didn't have a badge or a white coat. "Why take a job if you haven't met your boss yet?" 

The three doctors looked at each other, not understanding who he was or what he was trying to get at. 

"Sorry?" Chase questioned. 

The young man shrugged, sinking further into his seat as he tossed the magazine back onto the end table beside him. 

"I'm just noisy, that's all." He pulled his phone out from his front pocket, quickly checking the time. "I think… he's late."

"You…." Foreman trailed off. Were there four of them hired? From what he understood, only three of them were supposed to have been employed for this position. The man shrugged, taping his foot against the tiled floor. 

"You have got to be kidding me," Cuddy's voice came from behind the new doctors, earning a small smile from the man. "House… Stop messing around." 

House? This was Dr. House? 

"How-"

"Twenty-five," House answered, cutting Cameron off immediately, knowing what she was going to ask. He always got that question; in fact, he still had trouble getting in, even with his badge. He quickly bounced up from his seat, seeming eager suddenly. "Any questions?" 

"Uhm…" Chase was trying to think of something to ask that had nothing to do with House's age or questioning his job title. Surely, he had a fantastic education if he was an M.D. and their boss. "What's your shirt say?" He thought of quickly. 

House looked down, not remembering what he had on. Had to admit, he threw on whatever he could get his hands on this morning. Gaslighting isn't real. You're just crazy.

"Cool, huh?"

Cuddy hummed, folding her arms over her chest. 

"We've talked about dress code, have we not?"

"We have. Not that I care."

"Okay…." Cuddy pulled out three brand new pagers from her white coat pocket. "If any of you need anything at all, feel free to get a hold of me." 

"Wait, wait, wait…." House called out before Cuddy got too far away, pulling out his own pager from his pocket. He spun it around in his hands before looking up at her. "Why do they get new ones? Mine-"

"Looks like shit. Yeah, I wonder why." Cuddy turned and began to walk away. "Take care of your stuff, and maybe you'll get nice things." She called from down the hall. 

Tossing the scratched-up, sticker-covered pager in the air, House attempted to catch it only to, whether intentionally or accidentally, miss it as it fell onto the floor. The thud caused House's head to shoot up just as Cuddy looked over her shoulder, flashing him a look that screamed he needed to stop messing around. No wonder he didn't get anything nice. 

"Fifty bucks for whoever wants to give me theirs." 

Silence. 

"Well, you guys are no fun."

House let out a frustrated groan before he dramatically bent down, sweeping the small box up from the floor. Without saying anything, he began to walk away from the confused group, assuming that they were going to follow after him. When he didn't hear their echoed footsteps, he only motioned for them to follow without saying a word. 

"That's our boss?" Chase whispered to the others. 

"I'm gonna say… unfortunately?" Foreman offered. 

"C'mon!" House shouted for them as he repeatedly pressed the elevator button. 

Exactly five times, Cameron couldn't help but notice. She watched closely after the fifth press, mentally counting the seconds until he started pressing the button again. 

Waits five seconds before hitting the button precisely five times. 

Not that it mattered in the slightest. Cameron just had a way of observing people and could quickly pick up on their little quirks, although, from a couple of minutes of meeting Dr. House, she could tell that he had many quirks. 

The elevator beeped loudly, letting the group know the doors were about to open. It pulled Cameron out of her thoughts as she stepped inside with the rest of them. She watched as House pressed 2 once again five times in a row. Anxiety? OCD? Maybe he thought something terrible would happen if he didn't push it in a sequence. 

While she was busy trying to piece together bits and pieces of House's behaviour, she didn't take in the bigger picture. The first lesson they were going to learn was that nobody was able to read House before they were read by him. Although, he couldn't help but be slightly impressed at how she was going about it, staying silent, watching his every move. This could make for exciting employment. 

The entirety of the walk from the elevator to House's office was them listening in silence as House rambled on about something they couldn't even keep up with. One second, they thought they were on track with the conversation, only for him to switch it up and say something completely off the wall and off-topic. Chase would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't reconsidering his position here, but a job like this comes rarely, so he'd have to suck it up and deal with it. 

"And this is my office!" House stated loudly as they approached the overly open office space with way too many windows and his name printed on the door. "Don't bother me unless you're dying." House shrugged a shoulder. "Or, I guess, if a patient is dying. Unless they're dying, and it's your fault. In that case, deal with it yourself." 

He opened the door, but he stopped just as he was about to go inside.

"Let me make one thing clear: if anyone touches anything in my office… moves anything even an inch, I will kill myself." He drummed on the plastic door frame. Exactly five times while looking directly at Cameron. "Got it? Any questions?" 

Chase awkwardly raised his hand. 

"Yeah. You." 

"What should we do now?" 

House looked at the small end table that was cluttered with patient files needing his attention. Well, he had them now, so he could delegate what he found too boring out to them. 

"Save some lives. That's why you're here, right?" House scooped up the files and loose papers before practically shoving them into Chase's arms. "Go crazy." 

"Wait, so that's it?" Foreman quickly asked, not believing this was how his first day would go. "You're handing off your patients?" 

House shrugged. 

"What's the point of you, my little ducklings, if I can't assign you work?" 

Ducklings? 

"Tell me, without too much thought, what does that first case bring to mind?"

Feeling flustered all of a sudden, Chase flipped the folder open, scanning for keywords or anything that would be important. It seemed that House already had the answer in mind, so he didn't want to disappoint him by giving him the wrong answer. 

"Uh… I would say… low blood sugar?" 

"Exactly!" House hit his open palm against the door frame. "Boring! Deal with it."

"What if it turns out to be something else?" Cameron questioned, only to regret it as House chuckled, hanging his head down before lifting it against quickly, hopefully not giving himself whiplash. 

"Diagnose. Treat. Move on. Unless they have rabies, a brand new plague, or superpowers, I don't want to hear about it. Go on." He waved his hands to indicate that he wanted them to shoo. "Have at it. Sink or swim. Or don't, I don't really care. I'm sure you'll be just fine. Hired you all for a reason, right? Get to work." 

[ace-angel-judas]

Ari doesnt even get to know her daughter in the same lifetime.. next time Ayden meets Ari she wont know Belle

“So, how old are you exactly?”

Ayden looked at Ari, his eyebrow quirking under his sunglasses. Royals, like himself, had no issue walking in the daylight. Although light sensitivity around the eyes was a given.

“Chronologically or biologically?” Ayden questioned.

Vampires were known among humans, they lived in an unspoken agreement. As long as neither threatened the other, peace stayed.

“Both?” Ari questioned.

He smirked, looking over the table at her, “I look 42, I’ve looked 42 for the past thousand years,”

Ari blinked, slowly sipping the tea in front of herself. This trip to Paris wasn’t what she had expected, meeting this vampire.

“But, I am seven thousand years old,” Ayden confessed, ��Give or take a couple hundred years,”

“Seven thousand-“ Ari also spat her drink, placing the cup down and clearing her throat, “I expected five hundred not.. thousands..,”

“My sister is four thousand years old,” Ayden shrugged, “We age slow at first before stopping, whenever we really like, it’s nice being able to pick your age,”

Ari nodded, “You said you knew me,”

He inhaled deeply, “I knew a version of you,”

Glancing at the tea in front of her, Ari asked, “How do I like my tea?”

“Hot, with full cream milk and six sugars, if you have a sore throat, you like a bit of honey mixed in,” Ayden explained.

“How-“

“You don’t like green tea, your prefer an Earl Grey or Black Tea,” Ayden added on, “Although you do love matcha, as long as it’s prepared correctly,”

Ari was silent.

“The second version of you, she worked in a tea house,” Ayden looked down.

Exhaling softly, Ari nodded, “Well, you know a lot about me yet I don’t know much about you,”

“What do you want to know?” Ayden asked, looking at her with a poker face.

“Hmm,” Ari clicked her fingers, “Do you have any children?”

Ayden was silent for a moment, raising his hand and pulling off the black tinted glasses. His eyes were purple, eye lids heavy as he spoke.

“Yes,” Ayden answered.

“You have children?” Ari asked in disbelief.

“We,” Ayden corrected her, “We have a daughter, You wanted to name her Rosabelle because your favourite flower was roses but I didn’t like it, I wanted something more meaningful to us-“

“Arabella,”

He stared at her, face solid like stone.

“We named her Arabella, didn’t we?” Ari asked in a soft whisper, “It was always my first pick for a girl.., it always felt right,”

Ayden nodded.

“Where is she?”

[aaronstveit]

Hi, it's me again. First of all, I wanted to say thank you for taking the time to reply and that it's absolutely fine it took you a while, it's a heavy topic. And while I understand it's hard to talk about and it makes people uncomfortable - people can draw boundaries, of course, I feel this need to talk about her, keep her memory alive, and it's easier to do that with people who don't know me (because I'm known as someone who doesn't talk about their feelings ever) and with people who went through the same experience as I did.

She wasn't always a good friend. She was weird about boys in the way 15-year-old girls are weird about boys at that age (I was too but I think that was maybe part of me not having figured out yet I was Not Straight) - she had a weird, older boyfriend who was super sketchy and I always was weirded out her mother let her and her sister date these kinds of guys. She was very gatekeep-y about her favourite musicians but when we had long drives ahead of us we always shared headphones and listened to her array of rap songs. We used to watch a lot of horror movies but the movie she played to fall asleep was Kung Fu Panda, she always fell asleep within the first five minutes. Her favourite colour was pink, I didn't remember that and she always used to dress pretty alternatively so I'm guessing it was a recent thing, an adult her thing, and we were asked to wear pink to her funeral and it felt both very fitting and not. They played her favourite song at her funeral and it broke me, it must have hurt her mum even more because it was a song by her favourite artist who paid tribute to a friend who committed suicide and it mentions her mother's name. She committed suicide because of a boy she dated or didn't date anymore and that's such a her thing and it makes sense and it makes me so so so angry. I've only visited her grave twice and one of those times was at her funeral.

I can't remember many things about her and part of that is because we were best friends but best friends in the way you're best friends with someone you're sharing most classes with since you were eleven, part of it is that I only knew her for eight years and I didn't know her at all since we turned eighteen and there are so many things that happened in those next six years that I'll never know about. I don't want to talk to her family because we hadn't talked in years and I don't want them to think I only care about her now that she's dead.

She taught me to take better care of my friends, that's not the right phrase but we ask each other more often if we're fine and if we mean it. I'll forever feel guilty about not having been able to prevent this - I had often thought about reaching out to her but it felt too weird, too out of nowhere, to connect with someone I hadn't spoken to in over five years, and especially after our fight (which was such a stupid fight, I hate that she went thinking awful things about me, about us, if she even thought about me at all) - even though I literally couldn't have noticed because of the not-speaking-with-each-other part.

I still don't think I'm allowed to grieve her. I can't believe she's gone and I'm still here.

I'm sorry I dumped this all on you, like I said, there's this need to speak about her, and while you said you'd be here for that I understand if this is too much. With that being said it felt good to let this all out, I feel a little lighter!

I know it's different for you because you'd put it all out in the open, publicly, with your name/face attached to it but if you want to talk about your friend as well, I'm here - and so will many others be ❤️

suicide tw

i totally get preferring to talk about it without attaching your name, so you are more than welcome to remain on anon and talk about her whenever you like. in my experience, losing someone this way is particularly isolating because it’s like everyone thinks they can’t talk to you about it or you’ll fall apart. when in reality, it’s the not talking about it that does more damage. i am really glad you feel lighter having sent this message. there is absolutely no need to apologize.

my best friend loved fruit snacks and yoohoo drinks; he used to hide them under his bed so his family wouldn’t take them all. he built model planes & ships and his favorite childhood movie was the iron giant. he played the saxophone and fell asleep in class all the time and i was mad at him for so long that i’m still learning how not to be. i sat in the front row of his funeral and tried so hard not to cry because the girl next to me was a year younger and i was trying to comfort her. i cried anyway. his favorite color was green and he always wore polo shirts and this tan jacket with a pen mark on the sleeve from some funny little thing that happened between us in seventh period. i love him more than anything.

i’m still figuring out how to talk about losing him, how to talk about the way it reshaped every piece of me. it turned me into the “text me when you get home” friend, the always-checking-in friend, the “i’m here if you need anything” friend. he made me kinder, but he also made sadder and more afraid, you know? he brought so much good into my life and so much bad, too. i’m still learning to reconcile all that.

i felt so much guilt for so long after he passed. it devoured me. i was so sure that it was my fault. it took so long for me to realize that it wasn’t. we were children. i was a child. i couldn’t save him. i’m still teaching myself this & granting myself forgiveness and compassion. i hope that you can learn to do the same. this wasn’t your fault.

thank you again for messaging me. i’m glad i get to know your friend a bit, even if she’s gone. and i’m honored that you shared her with me. i am sending you the biggest, warmest hug. thank you.

[infinitelycynical]

Percy being the third parent headcanons (Part 1 [maybe?]) (not really canon compliant)

Percy Weasley has trauma from being the third parent, that’s my main headcanon for him. He did so much at such a young age and it hurts, a lot. 

More on this:

- When all five of the youngest children were kids, Molly was busy lecturing Fred and George in the mornings, Percy helped Ron and Ginny get ready. He would guide them into the bathroom and place them in the bath together (more time efficient). He scrubbed them clean and helped them get dressed.

- He usually woke early, like at 6am, because it was the only time when the house was quiet. 

- Especially in his teenage years, he was like a venting dump for his mother (this is where eldest sister syndrome comes in). Molly would rant about how worried she was for her kids (mainly Ginny, Charlie and Bill) and how concerned she is, and Percy would comfort her and tell her that he’ll keep an eye on them and all that.

- I always imagine the three eldest Weasleys with bigger age gaps than JKR tried to say they were. Percy is eight years younger than Charlie, not three, and around 10 (?) years younger than Bill. 

- He parents his siblings the same way Molly does, as that was his example of parenting at home. He didn’t use favouritism and all that, but he was kinda strict (as strict as a ten-year-old can be) on all of the kids and was very firm on rules. Honestly can’t blame him, he was only a kid. 

- Definitely both a mother hen and the parent friend.

- Was like a father figure to Ron and Ginny, especially to Ron, seeing as Arthur wasn’t home a lot.

- I saw in a fic once that Percy was the one to handle Ginny’s sheets whenever she was on her period, and I honestly like this headcanon. I thought he would have been the one to help her out because Molly probably was a. busy b. didn’t want to teach about that sort of thing. Also he probably gave them a quick puberty ed (Arthur did sex ed with the kids).

- Did not realise until perhaps the age of seventeen that this was not normal, that he shouldn’t have been the third parent, that he was not obligated to raise his younger siblings. 

- Was assigned to babysitting religiously when Molly went shopping, she never brought the kids with her and she never asked Arthur to just come in for his free hour. Nope, Percy babysitted them.

- House went to chaos once Percy left for Hogwarts, their entire system fell apart without their third parent to rely on. The kids were rowdier than ever, there was no Percy to cut their breakfast toast into the shapes they liked, no Percy to straighten out their clothes and to straighten their hair with his hands, nothing. (Molly could never quite forget Ron yelling that he hated her and that he wished Percy was there instead.)

- An embarrassing habit he had was doing the things he did with his younger siblings to his friends - like fussing over their ties or gentle kisses to the forehead, etc. Oliver had a blast with it, did not mind at all, basked in affection Percy light. McGonagall noticed and became increasingly concerned. 

If I do a part 2 (I probably will), I will most likely focus on Percy realising that it was indeed not normal, especially the last point I made. Maybe I’ll even write a fic on it (once I update my 1k wips lol). 

Enjoy!

[myohmyimanxious]

Encanto headcanons part 6 bc I'm too weak to stop (pls tell me to shut up)

- Camilo got the blame for all the food Bruno and Dolores stole

- He's still mad about

- "I TOLD YOU IT WASNT ME"

- Agustín is the kinda person who'll put their glasses on their head and forget and just ask everyone if they'd seen them

- Luisa would be honest with him, camilo would definitely only tell him after he's managed to get something from him

- "I can tell you where they are for an extra helping of dinner"

- Antonio sometimes tries to talk to his animals like they do, as in he'll growl and hope he's actually saying something and not just making a noise

- Agustín never knows what's going on during films, and always asks questions

- Julieta will just feed him food to shut him up or whisper answers super quietly (there's no inbetween)

- Out of the kids, Luisa and Mirabel tend to get the most invested

- Isabela, Dolores and Camilo are just enjoying the moment

- Antonio will be all for it if it's about animals, but usually falls asleep before the end

- Antonio is a big David Attenborough fan (who isn't tbf)

- Although when watching his documentaries he's like NO THATS NOT WHAT THE ANIMALS ARE SAYING

- Bruno and Félix: "let's what a movie!"

- Also Bruno and Félix: *falls asleep as soon as it starts*

- Mirabel knits winter wear for everyone

- Julieta very very rarely holds a grudge against anybody

- But when she does, good luck waiting for her to get over it, bc that'll take YEARS

- They're usually aimed at childhood bullies, or those who upset her family

- When the triplets have to decide on who's going to do something none of them want to do they play Rock Paper Scissors

- It happens more often than you'd think

- They can stand there for ages trying to change the results

- "Best of three" "shit, okay best of five"

- Félix and Agustín timed them once, and the longest they did it for was over 20 minutes

- If you're wondering who won, it was Pepa and Bruno

- Félix, Agustín, Bruno, Camilo and Antonio have a Guys™️ day

- Except it just consists of camilo and Antonio pulling pranks on the other three or just winding them up in general

- Slapsies is one of Mirabel's favourite games to play with her elder cousins

- Mainly bc she's quick and therefore very good at it

- Isabela is not, and she hates it

- Antonio isn't allowed to play bc nobody wants to hurt him

- Camilo is just a bitch ass cheat and runs away when he plays so he can't play it either so it's really just Mirabel and her Tío Félix who play

- Antonio's first word was papa

- Guess what the mama's boy's first word was!

- When they were really young Mirabel and Camilo would wear raincoats and rain hats and wellies and demand Pepa to make it rain so they could jump in puddles

- Antonio is always followed by a load of animals wherever he goes

- Antonio was also a really big papas boy, crying whenever anybody else held him

- They tried to test if it would work with Camilo shifted as Félix but Antonio just knew and screamed bloody murder

- When he shifts, camilo's bones and ligmants etc break and change to create the body hes recreating and whilst it's hardly noticeable to him anymore (another reason he eats a lot) Dolores can hear it happen and she hates it

- Bruno has seen how everyone will die and when, and it traumatised him

- He's also seen modern technology, he's the most tech savvy I refuse to believe otherwise

- Camilo and Bruno LOVE old Hollywood movies

- And the way they found out they shared that love was when Bruno just randomly quoted that line Jimmy Stewart says "This is the voice of Doom calling" after giving someone a vision

- Camilo is like :O "BRUNO MADRIGAL YOU HAVE UNSUSPECTED DEPTH" (if you get the quote I love you!)

- They've also been trying to master that transatlantic accent, with little success

- They like to use the accent and do impressions of OH actors to cheer each other up

- Bruno's go to is usually Bogie ("here's looking at you kid.") whilst camilo's go to is usually Jimmy Stewart ("The same people seldom come back; but that's envy, my dear. There's a little bit of envy in the best of us.")

- If they get into an argument "well excusez-moi monsieur hot shit"

- Félix and Agustín are the Fun™️ uncles, who absolutely get involved in all the kids stupid shit

- Prank war? They're on it, and they're committed!

- Hiding evidence? Don't worry, Félix and Agustín have your back!

- Wanna sneaky cup of alcohol? Agustín is pouring it now! Don't tell abuela!

- Antonio is vegetarian

- He's also an eco warrior, he doesn't allow anything that can be reused or recycled to go to waste

- And only wears handmade clothes or hand me downs

- Contrary to popular opinion, Bruno can hold his own in a fight. It's rare it comes to that but if necessary he certainly can kick ass

- He's a pacifist by nature but he's abuela's son, and she didn't raise no bitch

- Despite Antonio making sure Bruno's rats aren't eaten, they're incredibly wary around him

- I imagine there was once an incident were the madrigals where at some wedding and halfway through the ceremony little Antonio is suddenly like "FUCK"

- The kids are in creases, deceased with laugher

- Pepa and Félix try so hard not to laugh

- Julieta and Agustín are trying to hold it together but everyone can see they're laughing

- Abuela is like "oh dear god" and is apologising profusely

- When Antonio begins chanting it, Félix has to pick him up and take him outside whilst apologising through tears of laughter

[glorious-blackout]

3, 21, 23, 30, 43 for the writer ask 😘

Thank you! 🥰

3. Are there any fics that inspired you to write what you do?

There must have been so many over the years! In terms of my writing style/favourite genres I've probably been inspired more by novels than fic ('A Series of Unfortunate Events' and '1984' have a lot to answer for), but I remember a couple of fics in the Muse fandom that I fell in love with when I first started out eleven(!) years ago.

One was called Wires which was an exercise in heartbreak and well-utilised present-tense, while another was called Synapse which was a wonderfully weird sci-fi story. Sadly Wires was deleted ages ago and I've never been able to find a copy of it, but Synapse has been preserved on AO3 😊

21. What’s your least favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

The final few edits, where you've read the story so many times that you're sick of the sight of it 😅 I tend to overthink things like word-choice and sentence structure to the story's detriment by that point.

I think that's partly why feedback is so important for writers. Seeing someone's reaction to experiencing your story for the first time can mean the world when you've been hyper-critical of it for so long.

23. What’s your absolute favorite trope to write?

Does 'Main Character Being Put Through All the Wringers' count? 😅 I am an angst-junkie at heart... I don't usually think of tropes when I'm writing, but 'friends to lovers' has a habit of cropping up in my Milex fics 🥰

30. Post a snippet from your current WIP without context - no more than 300 words

I'll refrain from posting a snippet of my current WIP as it's technically a surprise, but I can share this (hopefully) non-spoilery bit from my big-bang fic:

"It was a sweat-soaked, sultry summer that heralded the birth of their third baby.  

At the height of an oppressive heatwave, the fierce sun had radiated the sleepy London streets, projecting illusions of melted tarmac and puddles that vanished the instant one drew near. News channels became preoccupied with reports of the third record-breaking summer in a row, the south of England depicted in blistering red on their displayed maps, and Alex’s delicate skin had adopted a permanent pink hue in spite of his ritualistic applications of suncream. 

It had been easy to ignore the fact that the planet was on fire. Within the safe, air-conditioned confines of Abbey Road Studios, Alex and Miles had shed all thoughts of the outside world as they noodled away on guitars and drew up new melodies on the piano. During lunch breaks they sat together, knee to knee like the old days, poring over lyrics and celebrating whenever a perfect metaphor joined their frantic scribbles. Within their safe cocoon, inspiration flared like an Olympic flame, unflinching and undying even in rare moments of creative conflict. The album came together almost too smoothly – certainly too quickly for Alex’s taste – as Miles’s reawakened love for Northern Soul married Alex’s seventies head in perfect harmony."

43. Talk about a positive experience with fanfiction or the fanfiction community that you will always remember

One of the best experiences I've ever had was writing a fic called 'Watch Our Souls Fade Away' which I'd initially posted as a one-shot, expecting it to be quickly forgotten, only to receive a humungous wave of support for it. The wonderful feedback inspired me to add several more chapters and it remains one of the most positive writing experiences I've ever had.

Another was sharing 'You've Always Been Here' which I again expected to just be a little project shared between friends, but @elorianna stumbled upon it and convinced me to post it on AO3. Thanks to that story I've met some wonderful friends within the Milex fandom, and it also marks the first time someone else has written something based on my own fic (@alexxturner-me-on's wonderful 'T-Minus Your Last Five Minutes') which might just be the coolest feeling in the world 😭🥰

[atinyidea]

Heartworm | Choi San

n. a relationship or friendship that you can’t get out of your head, which you thought had faded long ago but is still somehow alive and unfinished, like an abandoned campsite whose smouldering embers still have the power to start a forest fire.

⟶ college!au, best friend!san, brother!seonghwa, friends to lovers!au, kinda very spicy but there’s no actual smut, there’s mentions of underage drinking and sexual encounters, everything is consentual!

⟶ appellation series masterlist

⟶ 5.7k words

600 special prompt for my lovely soul partner @san–shine, its like 50 years late and I know she no longer is active on this blog but I wanted to keep this.

42: “Exactly how drunk was I?”

49: “Good morning, sunshine.”

☞ When you were younger, you knew you were one-hundred per cent in love with your best friend, Choi San. However, because he was also, in fact, your brother’s best friend and you were a sixteen-year-old rebel adamant to never admit your feelings, you had to watch as he got his first girlfriend during a party Seonghwa had thrown for you. Now, years later and in the middle of college, you find yourself in a familiar setting: a party thrown for you by your brother and Choi San looking as breathtaking as he always does.

☞ moodboard

Just to be clear, when you woke up, you hadn’t expected your brother to announce that there was going to be a party held at your house for your twenty-second birthday. Your brother, being the kind and loving brother he was, had yet again used your birthday as an excuse to throw a house party, even though it wasn’t even your birthday until tomorrow. Seonghwa liked to use your birthday, the date falling in the last week of the summer holidays, as a way to gather all your combined friends as some sort of final summer get-together before the school year began again. You weren’t particularly against them, the end of summer parties becoming a little tradition after the fourth year running, and the fact that they were held at your house meant you could just go to bed any time you wanted. [ thank you sound-proofed home as per your mothers request due to your fathers’ noise-making habits from his job as a musician. ] Though it wasn’t like you knew anyone who would be throwing a house party you couldn’t just walk home from.

You did not know how many drinks you had consumed, alcoholic or otherwise, but the setting you found yourself in was giving you very explicit pangs of nostalgia to the first time you and your brother had thrown one of these parties. Your current situation was not unlike the situations you had been in before. You weren’t ashamed to say that you liked to have fun with your relationships: romantic, platonic or the just-once ones. It wasn’t unusual for you to be found in someone’s lap around midnight; the last party happened to be a beautiful girl named Soojin, the party before that was a guy whose name you hadn’t bothered to remember. However, the person’s lap who you sat in usually was not your best friend, Choi San’s. Not the San you spent the better half of your life burying romantic feelings for because he was Seongwha’s friend first. Not the San, your eyes couldn’t help watch whenever he was near. You made a promise to yourself since that one time when you had just turned sixteen, the one time you found yourself on his lap. [ A promise you made to deny your feelings because the very next day, he had gotten a girlfriend who was definitely not you. ]

At seventeen years old, San knew he was still a stupid and hormonal teenage boy. He practically got nose bleeds anytime he remotely saw a girl's lower back or tummy, their exposed thighs or neck: he knew he could be a perverted little shit. Still, having a girl for a best friend meant that he also knew what was respectful and what was just disgusting – thinking back on it, he was grateful for his friendship with you for teaching him from a young age how to treat girls with proper respect. [ Mainly because you would whack his head or punch him in the balls whenever he said something inappropriate or did something stupid. ] But, also at sixteen, San knew that he was also sorta-kinda-probably in love with his best friend’s sister. [ Who was also his best friend… was it possible to have more than one best friend? ]

During the summer of your sixteenth, Seonghwa’s eighteenth and his seventeenth birthdays, San and his family had gone overseas for an extended holiday. His father had received a promotion, and his mother struck lucky in her weekly lottery draw, so he hadn’t been there to witness the gradual changes to your body. It wasn’t like San wasn’t attracted to you before [ not that either of you knew what the fuck attraction was before ] but when you came to the airport to pick him up with your father, he was sure he wouldn’t be able to look at another girl ever again. [ Of course, that was an overdramatic thought since he proceeded to have girlfriends that weren’t you but the thought of you truly never left his mind. ]

The day of your sixteenth birthday party was something he would always remember clearly. He remembered the way you hugged him for a solid five minutes when he got to your house in the early morning, complaining about how your parents would still be away for another few days, and your brother refused to even hug you on your birthday. [ Seonghwa’s excuse was that it was your birthday tomorrow, and that was when you could claim the birthday hug. ] Secretly, he wished you would tell him you hugged him simply because you wanted to have him close. He remembered how Seonghwa had launched into a story from his last house party (one for the seniors that only he was invited to, but the stories were fun nevertheless) as he attempted to make pancakes at your request. You had bounced your way to your favourite countertop space and jumped up to sit there, right in front of the fridge, because it was the only place that was both cool and warm [ “exactly the right temperature” ] in the entire kitchen. He remembered the way his body slotted between your legs, his back to your chest as the two of you shared a vodka-and-coke at ten-in-the-morning. His mind was restlessly deciding if it was okay to lay his hands on your knees or calves, inevitably switching between the two places every five minutes. It hadn’t felt weird but natural as all three of you shared hearty laughs and then partially burnt pancakes.

[ He remembered when he had given you the small-and-terribly-wrapped box that held your present, egging you on to open it a day early. The way your face lit up as you lifted a thin silver chained sunflower charm bracelet into the air would forever be imprinted on his eyes – your eyes sparkling and lips twitching up into a wide grin as you thanked him seven times. The gentle tone of your voice as you asked him to help you put it on because for some reason, you couldn’t put clasped bracelets on for the life of you, was saved like a voice note in his brain. “You remembered,” you had whispered once he was settled back between your legs, “that sunflowers were my favourite, I mean.” The brush of your lips on his cheek lined the walls of his heart as it threatened to shatter through his ribs. ]

As a sixteen-year-old San knew that you probably shouldn’t’ve had as much alcohol as you had that night. However, as a seventeen-year-old San also didn’t care as long as you were having fun. It was not the first time you consumed alcohol, but it was the first time you’d had enough to get drunk from it. It was your sixteenth birthday party after all, and neither your brother nor your best friend had any objections when you grabbed the first vodka-and-coke at ten in the morning while you got ready. So now, at almost eleven at night, you had had more than ten of those drinks, and you could honestly say you weren’t sure if you’d remember anything from this night at all. The hours went by in a blur, and soon three drinks had turned into eight as you dragged San to your room to decide on an outfit for the night. He remembered the way his throat constricted as you strolled out from your bathroom in a neon green crop top and the pair of flare jeans you always wore. Ultimately San thought he would’ve preferred that outfit to the one you settled on – a black denim mini-skirt with a matching jacket on top of a simple t-shirt with a neon rainbow painted across the chest. The sliver of skin showing from the crop top was way less tempting than the muscle of your thighs, mainly since that was your exact plan for the outfit.

“You look good,” he had said, swallowing gulps of air and saliva when you asked, “you’d still look good in a potato sack,” he complimented you as you twirled on the spot and gifted him with a brilliant grin that simply took his breath away.

“We match!” You all but squealed when you took note of the black denim jacket San wore over his t-shirt with a neon rainbow across the chest.

He hadn’t even noticed.

His memory started to get hazy around drink number thirteen. He couldn’t remember how or what events had led to the current situation, [ or which room the two of you were actually in that was both not your bedroom and also not inhabited by literally anyone else ], but he certainly was not complaining. You were so close to him he could smell the faintest scent of your vanilla and cinnamon shampoo and conditioner you had used the day before, the slightest whiff of your jasmine scented perfume [ the one you always wore, the one he bought you your first bottle of ] and the sweetly bitter smell of cherry coke and vodka on your breath. His hands seemed glued to your lower back and hips, palms almost moulded to your skin like he were a sculptor, and you were his latest masterpiece. Your legs either side of his own, wrapping around him possessively, like he was yours and only yours, and he let you, using his hands to pull you closer to him like you were his and only his. Your faces were so close he could feel each hot exhale of breath hitting his lips, and when they stopped as you shivered and whined, he couldn’t help the way his lips tilted upwards into a smirk. The way you attempted to wire your mouth shut not to make a sound wasn’t effective, seeing as he heard all three of your whines, each one getting more prolonged and higher in pitch as the two of you continued your ministrations. His hips wanted to jut up into you. Still, he forced his movements to be as slow and smooth as possible, wanting to feel every way you would come undone above him, but when his gaze flickered across your face. He spotted the small trickle of blood falling from your lips; it was like everything that had just happened had disappeared.

From your recollection, you only remembered specific parts of that night. Your legs had been situated on either side of his thighs, your arms wrapped around his neck as his palms slowly pushed up the small of your back to pull your body closer to his. Your faces were so close you could physically see the connection between the two of you, yet neither of you pushed forward enough to make that connection real and tangible. [ You wanted to, God, you wanted to kiss him right then more than anything. Why didn’t you kiss him then? ] San’s hands felt hot against your skin, his fingertips slowly moving to draw a masterpiece on your back. You shivered slightly as a slight breeze floated around the sliver of exposed skin where your shirt had ridden up. Your eyes were drawn to San’s lips as they twitched up into a slight smirk; his own eyes flickered to watch you watch him. Neither of you had said a word to each other for almost half an hour, drunkenly pushing at the limits between your friendship with nothing but burning touches and delicate twists of hips.

You subconsciously sucked your bottom lip into the confines of your teeth, but you willingly bit down harshly to stop a sly whine from escaping your lips as San had the cocky idea to roll his pelvis into yours as he held you in place with his hands on your hips. Apparently, you had bitten down way too hard because the next thing you knew was that San’s playful smirk had evaporated into a concerned frown. He lifted a hand from your hip – the sudden rush of cold where his hand previously was leaving you feeling a sense of loss – to your lip, his thumb tugging your lip back out.

“You’re bleeding,” he mumbled, thumb coming away with a smear of blood moulding into his fingerprint. The taste of blood in your mouth was unexpected and had sent you reeling. You almost flew off of his lap and practically ran to your bedroom’s bathroom to inspect the damage. There was a tear in the side of your bottom lip. [ The side of your lip you always bit out of habit, so the skin was thinner there than the rest of your lip. ] Against your better judgment – the rational part of your brain was too drunk at that moment – you settled your tongue against the fresh cut. Finching away from yourself at the unexpected [ which really should’ve been expected ] pain, you decided that there was nothing you could do to help soothe it. After twenty minutes, that felt like two, of staring at yourself in the mirror, you finally shrugged and made your way back into the heart of the party.

As an almost sixteen-year-old, you knew you were just coming into figuring out your body and the emotions of more physical relationships as you grew into it. You knew you had grown up a little (a lot) over the summer, your chest filling out from a b-cup to a c-cup, your lanky figure could no longer be considered lanky as your limbs gained muscle, fat and tone, creating a new full and curvy figure. Your mother had been ecstatic when you came to her asking how to style clothes to fit your ‘new’ figure as it meant the two of you could go shopping [ one of her favourite activities ], and you could find your style that both suited your body and personality. You did have to admit that your style didn’t change much; you still loved a sturdy flannel shirt [ always oversized though, now you tended to wear it open with a form-fitting crop top or spaghetti-strap top underneath to show off your chest and waist ] and you still loved your favourite pair of flare jeans enough to wear them almost every other day, [ the one with the painted sunflower over the back pocket. ] You also loved pleated mini skirts and knee-high socks or a simple loose-form-fitting dress with lycra cycle shorts underneath. You didn’t like the emotional side of your summer changes, though and, while you were new to the whole attraction thing, the one person you definitely didn’t feel anything remotely romantic for was your best friend. [ Well, maybe you did, but he was Seonghwa’s friend first, and that was a no-go… and perhaps you wanted to reject the way your heart turned into butterflies when you saw him at the airport… and maybe you just weren’t ready to put those feelings into words, so you denied them instead. ]

Your best friend whose lap you were just sat on, grinding your hips into his with your noses touching. Your best friend who was now kissing another girl [a beautiful girl who was named Hyemi, she was in Seonghwa’s class and also happened to live across the road… she was always nice to you and you couldn’t find it in you to dislike her even as your stomach knotted and twisted into something green with envy ] in the middle of the kitchen. You wouldn’t remember how long you stood there, watching the two of them kiss like a complete and utter creep, and you wouldn’t remember the look San gave you as he noticed the sway of your hair as you retreated out of the kitchen with a frown on your brow.

You did not fancy your best friend, and you definitely did not care that he was kissing Hyemi in front of the fridge. [ The fridge he stood between your legs in front of literal hours ago. ] Lastly, you definitely did not feel like crying as your mind reminded you about two different memories of earlier that day – one of you sat on the counter opposite that exact fridge with San leaning back into you as he gave you the sunflower charm bracelet that wrapped around your wrist, watching Seonghwa attempt to make you birthday pancakes. The second the memory of his hands burning up your skin, the way his lips tilted into a smirk when you shivered under his hold and the way you inflicted pain to yourself in an attempt not to whine with pleasure at the way he moved his hips.

It was too raw, and now you just wanted to forget.

San’s brain refused to calculate time because one minute his hand was reaching for your bloodied lip and the next you were gone, and San was back in the kitchen getting you a glass of water [ and then he was kissing another girl in front of the fridge he rested between your legs literal hours ago. ] San wouldn’t remember what their conversation had been, only that this girl, Hyemi, was older than him and had just asked him out. He wouldn’t remember the exact way her grin turned a little too malicious to be sincere. He would, however, remember the way your hair flew over your shoulder as you spun away from the scene involving him; he would remember the way his eyes followed your figure all the way into the embrace of your brother as you shallowly smiled and stole his drink [ and he would remember the way his chest seemed to ache at that simple action. ]

Hyemi became his girlfriend at that same party; you didn’t even know they knew each other. He didn’t even know why he said yes.

And here you were, on the penultimate night before your twenty-second birthday, in the lap of your best friend. His relationship with Hyemi had lasted six months, and he had gotten six more significant others in the seven-year gap from then til now but, right then, he was single, and you were in his lap. You had flopped down over the side of a two-seater couch; eyes screwed shut with laughter, so you didn’t realise who was sat on said couch – or that anyone was – until your head made contact with their thigh. [ Their thigh was very comfy to lay on, which was the first thing your brain commented on. ] When you looked up and met eyes with San, a small [ tiny really, in no way visible to the person who knew you best and where to look for a blush – finding it immediately ] blush was growing warmly over your cheeks.

“Hey there,” He grinned, setting down his plastic cup, [ more like throwing it over his shoulder, not caring that it hit someone since it was mostly empty anyway ] and poking your nose gently just to watch the way it would scrunch up. His fingers were moving from your nose to his ear to make sure the roll-up cigarette that was balanced there hadn’t fallen.

“Hi,” you giggled, your legs curling up to your chest, making you look like a contorted cat as your feet still dangled slightly over the arm of the chair. After a few seconds, your fingers started twitching and settled on playing with the fabric of his shirt. It was the same rainbow one he wore to your sixteenth party, matching the one you were wearing too. The both of you had grown out of them, San settling on cutting it into a crop top and you doing the same, [ since you were the one who had actually cut San’s shirt and decided to continue and do yours, so you matched again. ] His shirt gave little to cover, showing off his abdominals and tummy [ and the slight happy trail peeking out from the waistband of his jeans ] proudly and only just covering his pectorals. Your own shirt was cut higher, stopping just above the curve of your breasts. Still, your own torso was covered in a neon green fishnet bodysuit [ not that it left anything to the imagination, your torso was still on show ] that was tucked into your signature flare pants which now rode a little low on your hips and the sunflower on the back was more than a little faded.

“What are you doing?” He asked with an amused grin, [ complemented with the subtle raise of a singular eyebrow… Gods, why was he so attractive? ] one hands fingers starting to twist in the loose strands of your short hairstyle. It was nice. [ The touch of his hands against your hair was excellent, the slight tug of the strands against your skull felt really nice. ]

“Taking a break. Siyeon, Minji and Yunho broke out the karaoke machine, and they're playing the song shots game.” You replied as if it explained everything. [ It actually kind of did, San recalled you once telling him that the chaotic energy of that particular trio and the song shots game gave you awful headaches. And you hated having headaches when you were drinking because it made you nauseous. And when you were nauseous and drunk, you tended to go have a smoke, which you were trying extremely hard to stop doing for the sake of your father, who also used to smoke and now had lung problems. So, San understood your meaning. ] “What about you?”

San had to take a minute to think. Just what was he doing? Why was he so out of it today? In his heart, San knew the answer, but he hadn’t unlocked that treasure chest just yet. [ He was tired of watching you be semi-intimate with people that weren’t him… Which he refused to admit. Because both of you were pinning assholes in denial. ] Finally, even though it had only been a minute, he replied with a simple “I’m just… sitting.”

“Oh?” You asked, now it was your turn to raise the amused eyebrow, “just sitting?”

“Sitting... and thinking.”

“About what?”

“You.” The word was out faster than San’s brain had time to process what he’d said. However, now he had said it, he wasn’t going to deny it. Was it the small amount of alcohol in his system? [ It was the way your eyes widened a little as you looked up at him from your place in his lap, fingers twisting in his shirt and lips falling open ever so slightly. ]

“Me?” Your pitch ascended as the volume of your voice diminished.

“Yeah, you!” He grinned, tone equally as quiet but still showing enthusiasm, moving his free hand to boop your nose.

“What about me?”

San’s fingers in your hair froze at your question, his mind whirring with any kind of answer that wouldn’t cross the line into confession territory wherein he would lose your friendship indefinitely, but after one look at the serious longing look in your eye, he decided he would ‘man up’ [ the phrase making him cringe as soon as he thought it… the connotation of the word being so outdated and, for someone who grew up with a very stubborn girl in his life, San wondered why society hadn’t come up with a suitable alternative to the phrase ] and just tell you.

So he did.

“Do you remember what happened between us at your sixteenth party?” He asked, seemingly changing the conversation topic. Confused but going with it, a slight blush warming your cheeks, you nodded, and he took that as permission to continue, “I can’t stop thinking about it.” His voice was nothing louder than a whisper, you should’ve had to strain your ears to hear him, but at that moment, it was like all other sounds and distractions faded from the scene. Your breath hitched as you simply stared up into his eyes, his pupils dilated, almost taking over the beautiful swirling colour of his irises [ making his eyes look darker than usual, more intense than expected, and for a second, you swore your heart stopped ].

“What about it?” Your question was innocent enough, but the way you said it gave way to other ideas. Your voice was soft and breathy, like you weren’t getting enough oxygen, and like San, the words weren’t said above a whisper. Afterwards, you bit down softly on your bottom lip [ unintentional on your part, it was just a habit of yours, to be honest ], minutely sucking it in, and San’s focus shifted to watch your lips specifically.

“I’m thinking about how much I’d like to do it again.”

“You want to kiss me?”

“If you’d let me.”

“Please kiss me.” You whispered, more a statement rather than a question or demand. And so he did, leaning forward to reach you, head still in his lap, [ it felt like a slow-motion scene in a movie, but it couldn’t have been longer than two seconds before his lips were flush against yours ]. It was not the first time the two of you had kissed, but it was the first time you had kissed since becoming official adults — it felt different.

It felt good.

His lips were soft, and his kiss was gentle, at least it was at first. As the seconds ticked on, the kiss grew more intense, the soft brush of his lips pressed harder into you, his hands running over your body to pull you up to him. Your arms threaded around his neck, stretching out your torso [ if you were honest, it hurt a little… not that you were lucid enough to be aware of it ] and arching your back. He bit down on your bottom lip, tugging at it a little when your fingers twisted through the hair at his neck, pulling him to you with a new sense of desperation.

And then the two of you fell off the couch. You slid off his lap and landed on your back [ though it was more like you were on your side than your back ] while San rolled over on top of you. Both of you froze in your positions, eyes wide, [ pupils dilated but that was most likely due to the desire flowing through you ] lips parted as you just stared at one another for a second. San was the first to crack the silence, lips pulling into a grin and eyes crinkling with joy as his laugh sounded out around you. He flipped off from on top of you, landing next to you on the floor but his smile never dimmed and his laugh hadn’t faded. You rolled slightly so you were actually on your side as you continued to look at him. When he looked back at you your heart skipped a beat, his smile was so pretty and it made his dimple so deep but it wasn’t long before his laughter simmered and his expression faded as he looked back at you.

Biting your lip once again you made an executive decision [ the only decision you could think off, since all thoughts were now preoccupied with San at the moment ] to lift yourself to hover over him this time. You swallowed and let out a breath as your eyes met, searching for any sign that you should stop. Your shaking breath cut out into a soft gasp as San’s hands caressed over the small of your back to pull you down so that your chests touched. Your right hand lifted up to take hold of the cigarette tucked behind his ear, [ a small giggle leaving your lips at the thought that it was still there even after all that ] and twisted it between your fingers a little. Was it a nervous habit or just a neat trick, you couldn’t distinguish at the moment. San’s own hand came to hold yours, two sets of fingers now playing with the home-made roll-up gently. Soon enough San took it from your shallow grip and flicked it across the room, using the same hand to cup your jaw to cirect your gaze back to him.

Meeting his eyes made you want to shy away from his gaze but you let him keep you there. He looked at you with such a strong emotion you though you’d possibly be able to taste it from his lips. “I have to tell you something…” You whispered, close enough to not have to raise your voice.

“What is it?” He whispered back, the fingers on your back drawing small circles as the hand at you jaw left to curl a strand of hair around his fingers in the opposite direction. [ how he did that subconsciously and not mess it up would’ve made your head spin in wonder ].

“I love you.” You began, still whispering. “I have for a long time, though in the beginning I tried rather hard to deny it. Mainly because you had a significant other and I didn’t want to ruin that for you. And then, in a rather dick move, I got a significant other in the hopes of stopping it but that didn’t work so I stopped getting into romantic relationships altogether and now-”

He cut you off, pulling you into him to kiss the words from your lips [ which you appreciated because your inner thoughts were beginning to panic because your mouth wouldn’t stop talking ]. When you separated his smile was back, albeit not as wide as before. His eyes were as soft as his smile as he kissed you once more, resting your foreheads together. “I love you too,” he said against your lips. At his words you surged forward, pressing into him with fierce emotion as your kissed him.

You had wanted to hear those words from his lips for so long. You had wanted him for so long. And here he was, right in your reach, his hands on your body and yours tugging gently at his hair. Before all the breath in your lungs had finished and you lost your conscious nerve to a blur of desire those word had repeated at least thrice as you made your way to the comfort of your bed and the warmth of his body.

The next day when you woke up, you woke up earlier than usual and feeling unusually chipper as you took a hot shower. The subtly sweet scent of pancakes met you as you made your way through the house and into the kitchen.

“Good morning, Sunshine, you’re up early,” your brother grinned over his shoulder, both hands currently busy holding a pan and spatula. “I made pancakes.”

“Yes, I can see that.” You returned his grin with one of your own, a teasing smile lifting to your lips as you took a seat. Your head was clear of any headaches or lingering pain from a hangover since you were better with your alcohol intake as a twenty-two-year-old, and your reckless youth had lined your stomach with a fair amount of tolerance.

“Exactly how drunk was I last night? I don’t remember anyone leaving.”

“Oh boy,” Seonghwa sniggered, a sly grin taking over his features, “the party was two days ago, you slept all day yesterday. Really freaked San out.”

“What?!” You exclaimed, a piece of pancake falling from your fingers back onto your plate, bouncing off and onto the side sadly. [ It went ignored as you stared down your brother. ]

“Yeah. And he’s been ramble-muttering about you for a solid ten hours now. He’s really not subtle at all.” Seonghwa grinned. “So now that you two have slept together, are you two actually together?”

If you had liquid in your mouth, you would have spat it out. “He told you?!” You exclaimed, heart racing at the thought of your best friend and your brother discussing your sex-life.

“No.” Seonghwa denied immediately, face scrunching up in disgust at the mere thought, “I definitely don’t need to know details about that. It’s just San isn’t subtle at all when he’s mutter-rambling. He was oblivious to the fact he was thinking out loud about how to move forward after your… time together… while I literally sat next to him.” Seonghwa then grinned at you, again, the stretch of his lips becoming a little too mischievous for your liking. “Pretty sure he passed out on the couch half an hour ago.” He hinted, motioning over to the living room with his head as his eyebrows wiggled up and down suggestively.

A puff of air exhaled through your nose as a small smile climbed over your lips. You opened your mouth to talk, but he cut you off with a gentle pat on the head, “I’m happy for you two,” was all he said but it was enough. [ Your heart soared at the approval of your brother. It was not that you nor San needed Seonghwa’s approval, but it was nice to know he wouldn’t oppose it. ] Then you made your way to the couch San was asleep on.

You sat next to him, in the space unoccupied by his body. His brow was furrowed, which you frowned at. You lifted a hand and gently pressed on the juncture between his eyebrows, smoothing them out. His face instantly relaxed under your touch [ a part of your mind daydreamed that it was because he knew it was you ] and a small smith lifted upon your lips. Your hand moved down to cup his cheek and then his jaw before you raised it to gently wipe away the hair that had fallen in his face. You bit down on your lip, confused on whether to wake him up or not but life had chosen for you as one by one San’s eyes opened and slowly focused on you.

His eyes widened, and in a flurry of limbs suddenly he was laying on his back on the floor while you had balanced yourself with your knees over his waist. After a second of shocked silence [ as the two of you came to terms with what the fuck just happened ] a grin spread across his lips, eyes crinkling in delight, as his hands came to grip your hips gently.

A silent confirmation washed over the two of you as your lips spread to mirror his grin. The two of you would be alright as the next part of your relationship bloomed, the embers of your crushes were now burning bright.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

a year in the life | rockstar! s.s.

pairing: rockstar!sebastian stan x writer!reader

main work: i wanna know what love is

season: autumn 🍁

a/n: in celebration of 4 major works of mine turning one this year (my babies, cannot believe it’s been a year) and based on the reboot of gilmore girls, i will be revisiting my works per season. we are starting with autumn and rockstar!seb. hope you enjoy xx

Y/N laid on the big chez lounge couch in the middle of her living room, surrounded by her children’s toys, with a large bowl of Doritos on her lap as the Real Housewives played on the background. For the very first time since forever, she was alone at home; Jess and Marion were at their respective schools while Sebastian was busy in the studio, doing some rearrangements to a new album. She loved the three of them more than anything but she knew that she would’ve never had the chance to eat Doritos without Sebastian complaining it was unhealthy for her or her children trying to take a bite. Lately, all she wants is to lay low, bask in her leave from work and watch some trashy TV. 

As her eyes were getting heavier and heavier with sleep when the front door opened, sending her back into alert mood. Luckily, it wasn’t no one trying to break in but her husband who still couldn’t open doors without making a big ruckus about it. 

     - I’m sorry, bunny. -  he stepped back as he recognised his wife’s sleepy face. - I thought you’d be in the bedroom. 

     - Can’t move. - she pointed at her bulging bump covered by one of his old jumpers which seemed to be the only thing that fully covered her at this particular stage. Sebastian chuckled, walking over to her to quickly kiss her, hand caressing her bump through the jumper. - Didn’t expect you to be home so early.

      - I can see. - he pointed at the bowl of Doritos on her lap. - You’re supposed to be the prudent one. 

    - I’m carrying your offspring. It makes me make bad decisions. - she teased, cuddling against him as he sat by her side, worn out slightly loose black leather jacket still on. - How are the boys?

    - Fighting about who gets to be godfather this time.

    - Did you tell them my brother is gonna be the godfather?

    - Now, where would the fun be in that, bunny? - he smirked, with that boyish like looks he still managed to remain after all these years. 

    - Stop it. - she leaned towards him to kiss him. 

    - How are you feeling today? - his hand mindlessly rubbed her bump, feeling the little moves of the baby whenever the baby moved. - Little one is a bit feisty today.

    - It’s been like this all of last night. I think I might be closer to labour than we think.

    - Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve driven the kids to school, honey love. 

    - You needed to sleep. - she groaned as she stretched her legs. - Besides, Marion is staying with your mum today so I wanted to spend some time with her before she went. 

    - No kids tonight? - he leaned over to kiss her collarbone. - How long has it been?

    - As long as I’ve been pregnant. - she pushed him away playfully. - Jess is not going. 

    - Why not? Jess loves my mum. Is he sick? Urgh, is the flu going around his class again? We need to put him into a better school, those kids at his school are always s...

    - Seb, stop. - she rolled her eyes, smiling at the same time at how he’d gone from let it be to constant rambling about his children’s wellbeing. - He just wants to be home tonight and he’s been a little sad lately. 

    - You’re sure he’s not sick? Because there’s this private school which tests kids for all those flu things.

    - He’s not sick. He’s just got ... a bit of a lovebug. He got like this when I was last pregnant with Marion. 

    - Well, at least he hasn’t decided that the baby is just not coming. - Sebastian referred to Marion. Their daughter had just decided there was no baby coming around, even after being offered her own bedroom with her own bathroom, just for herself. - I’ll go pick him up, make it a whole thing. Maybe even pass by Al’s ... get you that pasta you really like. 

    - You’re just trying to make me forget that you’re the reason we’re moving houses. 

   - Y/N, this house has always been too small.

   - That’s because you need a whole room for your guitars alone. 

She’d spend the best part of her initial married years trying to convince Sebastian to either get a storage unit to put all his guitars in or to just merge it with his office yet, he’d always come back with an excuse. “Honey love, they need to be displayed”, “Bunny I would just get distracted if they were in my office” he would tell her with his rockstar like charm which she thought was strong enough to resist, yet how can she say no when he immediately shifts from boyish smile to having her pressed against the wall of that very same room, pounding into her as if he was an up and coming rockstar and her his favourite groupie. With the need for that bedroom, their once spacious apartment they bought when she was pregnant with Jess was becoming too small. Normally Y/N would be okay with it but being 8 months pregnant during the fall where it constantly rains in New York, moving seemed like the last thing she’d like to do and just thinking about it made her tired already. After all, she could barely walk to the kitchen without feeling tired or taking a short break in the middle of the path. She thought that after two pregnancies, the third one would be a walk in the park. Turns out it’s more like a run in the park, except the park is on fire and she’s barefoot. 

   - Honey love, asking me to get rid of my guitars is like asking you to get rid of your five copies of Emma.

   - They’re in different languages. - she argued back.

   - They’re different models, besides, we can finally have a guest bedroom. You always wanted a guest bedroom.

   - Sure then maybe my grandfather will come visit more often. How about that? - Sebastian chuckled at her answer. - I’m not joking. You get me pregnant, you get to be annoyed by my grandfather. 

   - You’re acting like this is my fault when you were the one who wore fishnets with a leather skirt. I’m only human. 

   - Fine, 10% my fault, 90% you fault. That’s my final offer.

   - You sure? 

   - Yes. You see, you are a sex maniac who cannot be controlled. 

   - That’s not what you wrote about me. - he smirked. - You said I had more soul than just a sex pot. 

   - Do not quote my own words at me.

   -  You bought my old guitar.

   - Urgh ... - she rolled her eyes. Sebastian grinned, happy he’d won the debate. - Just go make the other mums jealous please.

   - Look at you, using me for my sex appeal only.

   - No. I just really enjoy being the powerful mum. 

   - Yeah? What’s that like?

   - Constant questions about if we do weird sex blood rituals. Then mysterious answers, so they all fear you and don’t force you to attend PTA meetings on date nights. 

   - I gotta say, bunny ... we got this parenting thing covered. 

   - We do.

   - When I come back, you better not have a bowl of Doritos on your belly.

   - I’ll do whatever I want.

   - Sure, bunny, if you walk to the kitchen by yourself ...

   - Low move, Stan. Low.

   - You love me. - he chuckled, grabbing his keys from the trinket dish by the entry door. - See you soon, bunny.

   - Love you. - she scrunched her face in a little smile which he couldn’t help but smile back.

Sebastian liked to pick up Marion and Jess from school. His schedule normally meant Y/N, who had a more 9-5 job, was the one who’d do the drop offs and collections so he’d always meet them at home but whenever he could pick them up, he’d be the first one there. He just loved to see his two babies come out of school in their little uniforms which he incredibly hated when they first enrolled but now couldn’t help but find incredibly adorable. He also loved to see how both his children came out of school. Marion would be the one who’d take the longest, surrounded by all her friends and probably nursing a scrape or two on her knee as if kindergarten 2-3 year old was a big fighting ground while Jess would come out as quickly as he could. 

He parked slightly in front of his son’s school, coming out of the car and leaning against it. The parents’ eyes were immediately on him, maybe it was due to the star power or, most likely, it was because he was wearing a leather jacket, dark shades and his neck tattoo could be seen peaking out the collar of his jacket. His shoes crinkled the fallen leaves on the floor, avoiding those looks as he waited for his son. He knew who he was and he was not going to change it because he became a father, he is a good father, he knows that. The bell rang and a swarm of children came rushing out of the school, and they say birth rates are low. He took his sunglasses off, trying to pin point his son in the middle of all different aged children. 

   -  DAD! - he turned his head to the memorable voice, crutching down as he son rushed to him. Jess wrapped his arms around his father, little childish giggles as Sebastian pulled him off the floor.

   - Hey, buddy. How was school?

   - We did hand turkeys.

   - Hand turkeys? No way, that’s so cool. - he opened up the car’s passenger’s seat, sticking around to check if he fastened his seatbelt correctly before taking the driver’s seat. - It’s just gonna be us three today, bud. You, me and mummy. We getting Al’s and some ice cream. 

   - Why didn’t mummy come?

   - Mummy is very tired, buddy. The baby is kicking a lot, won’t let the baby sleep.

   - Oh ...  - Sebastian saw his son’s face grow sadder.

   - What do you want from Al’s, bud? You can get whatever you want.

   - Really?

   - Yeah.

The little restaurant had soon become a staple in their family life. Sebastian had. discovered by accident after accidentally burning dinner for Y/N’s. He wasn’t already too popular with Y/N’s family so he knew he had to fix it and there it was, the small little restaurant filled with delicious food. Now, it was just a Friday night tradition yet today was special, almost nostalgic to when Y/N, Sebastian and Jess had their first home. Back when Y/N and him were new parents and would trip on every toy in the apartment. God, those were the days. 

  - Dad? - Jess pulled at his sleeve while the two were waiting in the queue. 

  - Yeah, bud? - Sebastian picked him up, already understanding the signs of whenever he wanted to be held. 

  - I ... The baby’s not coming for a while, right? 

  - Why, Jessie? What did Marion say?

  - She didn’t say anything ... uhm, it’s gonna be three of us now. 

  - Yeah. We’re gonna get a new big place, we can even get a dog or a cat. You always wanted a cat, didn’t you? 

  - But, now I’m third.

  - What do you mean? - Sebastian furrowed his brows at the comment.

  - Well, when Marion was a baby you and mummy were always with her but she’s still a baby and now there’s a new baby, so I’m gonna be third. - Sebastian’s heart broke at that comment. Now it made sense. - And ... you’re not home a lot and mummy is gonna be busy with the baby.

  - Hey, you’re not third. - he rubbed his son’s back, kissing the side of his head, soothing him to the best of his ability. - You want me to be home more?

  - No, daddy ... you like doing music. 

  - Hm ... how about you come to the studio with me when you don’t have school?

  - Really? But you said I’m too little. 

  - Well, you’re gonna be a big brother again, I think it’s time.

  - Really?

  - Yeah. - he smiled him, his smile reflecting back at him. 

  - Faye. 

  - What?

  - We should name the baby Faye. 

  - Faye? You want your baby sister to be named Faye?

  - Yes.

  - Well ... Faye it is.

[urlocalnctstan]

𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙻𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚄𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 - 𝙹.𝚂𝙶

• Candy Hearts Collab - @127-mile​

Prompt : “I came to say goodbye.”

Genre : Angst, Fluff, kinda Slow-burnish?, Slice of life, highschool + college AU

Pairing : Sungchan X Reader (Ft. Jeno)

Warning(s) : mentions of bullying and injury (like one scene only), unrequited love, mentions of slight anxiety, hormonal shifts, language, minor character death

Writing nets : @kdiarynet​ @k-dinernet​ @kpopscape​ @czennienet​ @neoturtles​

Taglist : @eh-ovo-nctu​

WC : 9.7k

Summary : What people hated the most is the very word ‘goodbye’. However, it’s the very word that becomes something that you yearn to hear from Sungchan for years.

→ Playlist [recommended]

The sound of the rain was supposed to calm you down, not make you even more anxious and sweaty and you sat with your legs firmly pressed against each other, hoping to fill in the lack of company you were feeling amongst the swarm of people who perhaps shared the same dreams, same aim as yours. Public places as trains, trams, bus stops; you always thought they portrayed as the perfect definition for the word ‘sonder.’ Each individual having a life pretty much as complex as yours — sometimes a little less or sometimes a little more. It fascinated you.

“Do you think the trip is worth it?” Lee Jeno, your best friend of quite a few years puffs his cheeks as he stared dubiously at the red and white poster he held. You took a peek at it, the amount of times Jeno had been pestering you if he should really give up the money he had saved for PS5 as a sacrifice for this trip, it was safe enough for you to say that you had every words printed on it memorized. Well, maybe not every words but the main stuff at least.

“Lee Jeno,” You sharply gawked at the male sitting beside you, earning an ugly grimace from him. “Stop it already. I don’t know about you but I ain’t passing this chance.”

“Wah, what a nice friend I got.” You failed to notice the dramatic eye roll he makes before shoving the poster in his backpack, the one he had been using since the first day you had befriended him. Was it 5 years? 6 years?

“Are we five years or six years?” But I met him on that bookstore down my neighborhood, that was like spring of 2017 and now it’s 2021.

The male let out a snort.  “If I am a five year-old then you are definitely still inside the womb.” Even though he was smiling with that ‘innocent eye smile’ the evil smirk sheathed beneath went unnoticed by you. No sooner had he opened his mouth, a fresh harsh smack landed on his arms that were clad in a filmsy material of cotton and thus a silent yelp of pain escaping from him as he grabbed the area which was starting to sting with each passing second. The smack, albeit meant for him, you were unable to ignore the similar stinging pain in your palm, tears pricking in the corners of your eyes. But you made sure to show absolutely no signs of distress; it was somewhat a matter of childish pride for you.

“Change your career aim from a perfumist to an assassinator will you?” If it were the campus grounds, you two would have already been latched at one another throats; both metaphorically and literally.

“I will gladly not.” You huffed at the male whose eyes held a scornful gaze, now even more annoyed or perhaps, as you would think most of the times, he was just exaggerating. You found yourself mindlessly scrolling through your gallery in search of the recent notes from Mr. Kim’s classes. Until you stumble across something you had been long avoiding, a forlorn fragment from the former days of your high school.

“Here lies the proof of my utmost love and affection, always devoted to my only Y/N.”

It was a picture of you smiling way too bright, cheeks and nose flushed red while being squished by the only male in the frame as he pressed a peck against your cheek. His neck was craned to the side, ripe ears clearly visible in the small Polaroid film. As much as you hated to admit, your heart would still make flips and turns whenever you run into something that reminded you of him, your very first love and first heart break—Jung Sungchan.

Jeno was too busy in his dreamland as he dozed off with his head resting peacefully against your shoulder. It was no new news that the lad had been immensely in love with you ever since the first time you saved him from getting bullied back in 9th grade. However, you were always too busy with your academics and extra-curricular activities and thus clearly drawing a line of only being friends. Nothing else. It happened when Jeno had finally mustered up the courage after excelling in his Maths Olympiad, where he made a bet that if he indeed secures a place in the top 5, you have to abide by anything he wishes for. But he wished for your love, something you were not really capable of doing so; especially at that time. You did not have the heart to say no when Jeno jogged up to you, his eyes transforming into crescents as he smiled wide. “I did it!” His words came out rather breathy, possibly because of him running to you, and maybe because how hard he could feel his heart thump against his ribs when he noticed the proud grin on your face. Without wasting any moment further, Jeno lets go of the white banner of achievement he had been holding, his hands now focusing on yours. You could almost feel the slight tremble and the wetness of his sweaty palms, but before you could even say anything he beat to you by saying, “Go out on a date with me. Only one.”

There were numerous times when you felt guilty about turning down Jeno. At times it had you baffled that why a guy like him would ever bother liking you so much. Jeno was incredibly talented; gifted with unfair boon of genius traits in both academics and athletics. His little version of him always demeaned his abilities, often failing to notice that how much more he was rather than just a quiet kid who loved coding and maths. Maybe perhaps that was the very reason for him to face the bullying, at least that’s what you thought when you first noticed him getting cornered by some stupid idiot dipshits from your class during recess. Jeno’s ID card lay discarded on the ground, as Kihyun grabbed its owner by the collar. You could not understand his reason for not fighting back, and thus being a silent spectator was never your thing so you decided to butt in. As much as you equally hated and liked one thing, boys seemed to get kinda wary of your presence. Especially boys like these who were already in the blacklist of the teachers. It did not take them long to pick their asses and run from the site when you glared them with a threatening gaze, a single word from the class president and they would get suspended yet again for the umpteenth time in the year. You crouched down to Jeno’s level, carefully handing him his ID. You did not bother asking him if he was okay, of course he wasn’t. His face showed signs of previous injuries, the purple hues of bruises slightly fading beside his jaws. You still don’t know why but you felt the need to protect him from his solace, thus leading to this inseparable bond of yours.

But that was a version of him that was long forgotten. Jeno had become the star and face of the school in the last years of your highschool. Acing various quiz competitions, Olympiads, getting highest grades, being the captain of the soccer and basketball team; you were sure God really had His favorites.

You were not surprised when Jeno brought you to your usual favourite—candle shop. It was a hidden gem in your hometown, a small secluded shop located just a few miles away from the metropolitan. Not everyone was aware of its existence until that one day you decided to act rebellious for once in your school life. Of course dragging Jeno into this so called rebel act with you. The date was rather casual, just two friends messing around with wax and chemically named perfume essences. The shop was owned by a lady close to your grandma’s age, and it still makes you wonder how on earth was she able to keep up with the hollering you two were making. No matter how much you convinced yourself that maybe you could give the boy a chance, and perhaps feelings might grow on you later on; you could not make yourself cloud your rationality with the uncertain possibilities. You confessed every single thing that had been on your mind and Jeno just calmly listened to everything you uttered. You could clearly see the expression of hurt washing over his face, but he knew you. He knew that once you had made up your mind, there was no going back. The night did not cause any indifference in your friendship; it bloomed with each passing years of your middle school and then highschool. You two had become the infamous bestfriends, the once timid boy then all buff and handsome and the once spotlight lover girl then buried in her textbooks to pass the college entrance exams.

Throughout these years of teen, the candle shop had become a constant place for anything to you both; sadness, comfort or just enjoyable times. Until that one day when you met the grandson of the lady who owned the shop. Make a guess who it was.

When people spoke of their first heartbreak, you always cringed at how they exaggerated. Technically you never experienced one, so it seemed ridiculous to you that how was it possible to a simple break to cause others this much pain. You were shocked, no scratch that. Using fancy words, you were utterly bewildered when you saw the new transfer student—Jung Sungchan was the name, standing on the makeshift podium of your classroom. Thank God the architects decided to stick to keeping the height of the room above eight feet. You had changed drastically, contrasting your previous bubbly persona, you had become more reserved. It was just you being ambitious about something you had grown to like, and after some backstabs from your friends, you did not feel the need to have so many around you. Just Jeno being there for you was more than enough.

It would be a lie if Jeno did not sense the subtle looks you had been sending over to the new guy, but he was in no place to object you. It had only been a few moments of Sungchan’s arrival and Jeno already sensed his position in your life being threatened. He knew you were a saint who always looked out for others, and something about his presence made Jeno feel wary. Jeno did not need any of the privileges he had, all of it he owed to you after all. It was you who brought the best out of him, and in the end if he has them all but not you, it wasn’t clearly worth it to him. You preferred unpredictable things; it was what he learned about you in all your years of friendship. How you would always choose mystery thrillers over typical rom-coms, how you would always vouch for the new dish in the menu every time you both visited the local barbecue house. And he knew it was impossible to be one like that, it was just typical Taurus things (as he would like to blame) that made him too practical, too predictable for you. But, you never thought like that. It was just that even though you wanted to, you couldn’t make yourself grow romantic towards the boy you always shared your oreos and ramen with. He held a dear place in your heart and life.

Sungchan was immediately welcomed to the family, the girls already swooning over his good looks and amazing grades. Plus icing on the top, he was the half-brother of the infamous Jung Yoonoh, the heartthrob of the whole school, from juniors to seniors. While Jaehyun was the typical definition of being that one dude we always see in rom-coms who is loved and admired by all for his too humble personality and ethics, Sungchan on the other hand was more of a quiet one, often too shy properly open up his orginal self around new environment. Despite that, he was naturally amiable just like his brother, a trait that perhaps ran in the Jung household. Unlike Jaehyun who was presumably born with good brains, Sungchan was a hardworking one. Sungchan tried to settle down the queasy feeling he had been feeling ever since he moved back here, now that Jaehyun was always busy in Seoul with his medical degree someone had to look after their aging grandma. Sungchan was never really a part of any group, so leaving behind his school back in the city was not that painful for him. The atmosphere of the whole campus was pretty soothing; the bushes of neatly trimmed trees, big huge playground and the ochre shaded building. He liked all of it, and to top it all the uniform was really his style: solid crème and dark maroon combination.

When Sungchan stood awkwardly in the middle of the classroom, clearly clueless as to where he would be seating since all the seats were occupied, a soft voice called out his name rather eagerly. His eyes scanned for a while until he saw you; dark hair tied up neatly into a ponytail with a pencil in your hand as you waved him to notice the empty seat beside yours. Sungchan smiled at your sweet gesture, his out of place feeling now subsiding into the warmth of the possible blooming friendship.

“Hi there, I am Y/N.” You chirped, wiping your left hand before bringing it out for him to shake. Sungchan froze for a while before he realized what he was supposed to be doing. “Oh! And this is Jeno!” You turned slightly towards your best friend sitting just behind you with his famous eye smile.

“Hello, I am Jung Sungchan.” He returned the gesture shaking both your and Jeno’s hand. Whilst Jeno had the feeling of roughness and athleticism in his, your hands were warm and soft; it felt nice he thought. That was the first impression of yours to him: ball of sunshine. And your impression of him? Reserved and unpredictable; a combination that only meant chaos and imbalance.

Sungchan side-glanced at your fumbling state. Seating next to him you in the front row, you skimmed over your not so pleasant looking notes that you had scribbled anxiously in the prior night. Public speaking had never been a big deal for you once you get adjusted to the audience after going up on stage. However, it is the pre anxiety session that just always riles you up.

“You know,” Your head whipped a bit too fast to your liking at the voice belonging to the only male that sat beside you. “I’ll show you a trick. Here.” Sungchan proceeded to softly place your trembling hands on his, cautiousness apparent with every move he made. Even though you both had been seatmates for the last three months, you never found yourself involved in any sort of skinship with him; something that was really common for you and Jeno. The look of fluster was way too obvious when Sungchan softly rubbed various shapes on the back of your hand with his thumb, you were unsure if he was actually helping you ease from nervousness or just increasing it further. It had quite been a while since you had your hands caged in his, both of you completely unaware of the looks you had been getting from your senior teachers seated in the neighboring row. The moment was cut off when your name was announced from the stage by a senior, requesting your presence to commence your speech. Sungchan slowly lets go of your hands, mumbling a soft ‘best of luck!’ with his hands now fisted as an act of verbal encouragement. You eyes wandered around the crowd for a while before locating your best friend who sat miserably beside the homeroom teacher, really closing to dozing off before noticing your presence and copying Sungchan’s gestures.

The bus paused, Jeno still deep in his slumber despite the harsh jerk of the vehicle stopping in its tracks. You sighed, he must have probably been gaming the whole night with his roommate Donghyuck again. You nudged softly at first, the lack of response later than causing you to shake him vigorously by his toned arms that barely fit in your palms. Jeno instantly sprinted up with wide eyes before softly muttering a curse at your cruel way of waking him up.

“I was definitely right about you being a torturer in your previous life.”

“Sure you were. Get your ass off the bus now.”

You parted your ways with Jeno on the campus ground, him heading to his coding facult while you headed towards the chemistry club room. Apparently a newbie was supposed to come today from the US. It was odd you assumed since US had much better facilities for students majoring in chemistry. You glanced at your figure on your way to the room, wondering if the ripped jeans were a good choice as a first impression. You just disliked the idea of leaving off bad impressions, even if you are never going to meet the person again until your next life. Jaemin, another close friend of both you and Jeno smiled widely at your entrance, waving his hand as he pointed the seat next to him enthusiastically. Jaemin and you were basically clones of each other, the leos inside of you both shinig at its best whenever you two are together.

“I don’t understand why move back here from THE United States.” Jaemin dragged out the word, scoffing silently as he handed you a cup of iced Americano. You were about to sip before pausing. You could not have possibly risked your stomach again after that one fateful day when you tasted ‘his type’ of iced Americano. This dude legit gulped down eight espresso shots with a satisfied hum, horrified looks painted on your and Jeno’s features as you both just stared at him in utter shock.

“Please not the poisonous drink.” You eyed the male suspiciously, who scoffed at the nickname.

“Of couse not little baby.” Jaemin cooed with his lips puckered and an annoying high pitched voice, purposefully pinching your cheeks a bit harder than he usually does.

 “You little moth-”

“Hello guys, I am Sungchan. Nice to meet you all.” Your heart dropped at the familiar tone of voice. He isn’t possibly back again after leaving without any traces, without a single goodbye, is he? You did not dare to look at his figure standing in front of the table, awkwardly shifting in your seat while Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Hello, Sungchan.” Sulli, your senior by 2 years and also the president of the club greeted him warmly. “I hope you like it here because adjusting to a new place might be hard at times. Oh, these are your classmates; Y/N and Jaemin.”

Sungchan immediately looked in your direction at the mention of your name, his eyes equally wide in surprise mirroring your previous reaction.

“Y/N?” He called out in a rather unsure tone, just like his movements the cautiousness was also present there. “It’s been……a while….”

“Yeah, indeed.” You had a visible change in demeanor, Jaemin finally grasping the tense situation before jogging up to the male.

“Hi there, I am Na Jaemin. You can call me Nana if you want.” Jaemin put his hand out as a formality, to which Sungchan politely complied. “There’s a seat there you can sit.” Jaemin was luckily wise enough to occupy the empty seat beside yours without knowing the turn of events. He motioned Sungchan towards the seat diagonal to you, sensing the discomfort in your posture he assumed it was best if Sungchan sat somewhat further.

Concentrating on the yearly planning for the club was harder with his presence; Sungchan unable to hide his obvious lingering gaze on you. Jaemin would cough every now and then, signaling the male to focus on the club president’s instructions instead of you. But as his usual self, Sungchan pretended to not notice the clear hints, continuing keep his eyes locked on yours. You were barely able to note down some important events, knowing that Jaemin certainly cannot be trusted with his short time memory. After that president bids her farewell to everyone present in the room, you take it as your cue to just flee as soon as possible from his reach.

“Y/N, wait!” Sungchan was quick to grab you just as you were about to exit by the door, the sudden halt in movement causing you to stumble back into his embrace awkwardly. You were definitely embarrassed, your back pressed against his chest in a weird manner as you straighten yourself again. You scrunched you nose to hide your embarrassment before asking him.

“What is it now Jung Sungchan?” You were not meaning to snap at him, but the bitter memories of the past seemed to get the best of you.

Sungchan slightly winced at your cold tone, but what else could have expected after all the pain he had caused you. “I…I do..I mean like I..”

“Sungchan, I have my classes. Gather up your thoughts and then talk.” With that you turned on your heels, not even bothering to take your bag that you left on the seat you were prior sitting. Jaemin observed the scene quietly, his minds finally connecting the dots. Jung Sungchan, the boy you would always cry about whenever you got drunk, the boy who left you with nothing but memories of him. Jaemin thought it was best to not let out his inner frustration towards the guy who was now standing motionless in his tracks, lost in his trance as he gaped towards the door you had just left. Jaemin passed by Sungchan without a word, instinctively grabbing your bag as he made his way to his next class.

Sungchan stood dumbfounded, numerous thoughts racing in his mind. Why did I have to be so foolish? He thought. How can I blame her when I was the one who broke the promise first?

 Summer 2017

It was getting pretty boring for you at the library; usually some of the classmates bickering would give you some sort of silent company as you scribble down the notes. But for some unfound reason you seemed to be extremely distracted. You let out a long annoyed huffed, hands stretching in weird directions as you rested your head on the wooden table. It struck your mind there might be butts of nails pointed out and you didn’t want to get yourself a shot of tetanus, so you lazily glided your hands across the surface before returning back to your half laying position. It didn’t take long for you to zone out, mind running through various scenarios of university life, jobs and perhaps marriage? You blushed at the thought, just like any other teen you were also low-key always looking forward to your wedding.

“Are you asleep?” You shot up startled at the sudden voice, eyes immediately widening as you realized the owner. Sungchan had a smile with his lips pressed into a thin line, casually pulling out the empty seat beside yours as he made himself comfortable on it.

“Good to know you’re not. I need your help.” Sungchan wasted no time rummaging out a stack of sheets from his backpack, pressing them against the wood with a loud thump. You slightly winced at the loudness since the library was extra quiet today, the sound thus bouncing off more.

“You know if it’s literature, I suck at it.” Your mind took you back at that one time when you almost got yourself a C on the mentioned subject, chills running down at the memory.

“No, no.” Sungchan waved his hands softly chuckling. “It’s actually chemistry. Judging as a seatmate, I believe it’s your best sport.”

You happily nodded at the male, pleased that you get to help him with something that was under your specialty. Sungchan took a notice of your happy state, equally pleased that it was you that would be helping him.

“Tell me, what can I help you with.” You took the fat book from his hold, skimming over the contents page before highlighting the topics that were extremely important for the semester.

“I think hybridization? I just can’t seem to get how it works!” Sungchan’s voice levitated suddenly out of frustration, momentarily catching you off guard. Sungchan seemed to notice your amused look, shyly rubbing the nape of his neck with a little shrug.

“You know this is the first time I’ve seen you frustrated.” You commented, eyes fixated on the pages even though they were being extremely reluctant to rather focus on the fussy male. “It’s pretty easy you know. Look.” You explained him cautiously and slowly, how the overlapping of the orbitals occurred not realizing the proximity that seemed to lessen drastically. You whipped at his direction to see any signs of confusion, only to be met with a pair of dark orbs that stared at you intently. As embarrassing as it may sound, you gulped loudly. A bit too loud than you had intended to.

Sunghcan took notice of the situation you both blanketed in as a wave of déjà vu washed over him. He cleared his throat loud and awkward, half to lessen the embarrassment you were feeling and to poorly hide his own. You both were looking everywhere but each other, too dumb to maximize the close distance instead of acting like awkward cats.

“What are you both doing?” a deep male voice jerked you back to reality, upon turning you saw it belonged to Jeno. When did he come here?

“She was explaining the hybridization shits.” Sungchan huffed, slowly settling back to his orginal position. “I asked you so many times though…”

“You know chemistry is not my cup of tea.” Jeno shrugged at the male, a lazy smile playing on his face. “You wanna stay for b-ball practice today?”

“Not sure, I’ll see to it mate.” Sungchan did that fist-bump with Jeno, the two casually mingling like old friends as you stared idiotically at the scene unfolding in front of you.

“Since when did you both become Damon and Pythias?”

“Y/N, please not again your alien languages.” Jeno rolled his eyes before taking the seat beside, sandwiching you between both the males. “Since you happen to be tutoring a clown, an addition of another clown won’t do you any harm.” Jeno smiled at you, his doe eyes disappearing in the process.

Sungchan held back his snort, looking over both of you, he was happy. Though he was not as close to you as he had become to Jeno, he still considered you somewhat a close friend of his. Being seatmates with you and Jeno, it was inevitable that he soon became a constant in your life. Did I tell you that the candle shop was owned by his grandma? The shop if anything, had become this secret spot for you three. Study dates, random chills or just lazying around, the candle shop would be the first name that would pop up in your mind. 

With a blink of an eye perhaps junior year passes. Maybe that was how last years of highschool were. At one moment you barely just got promoted to a new class, and at another, you’re yet again getting promoted to higher one. You sat under the dull moonlight, a thin cardigan that was gifted to you by your dearest friend’s grandma. When Sungchan invited you and Jeno at his, his grandma had knitted this cardigan for you and a beanie for Jeno. The gesture was so sweet that it completely melted your heart, she was the living definition of wholesome for you. 

It was maybe that one day when you three decided to stroll the spring fair of your neighborhood, when you both finally came clean to your feelings. Jeno was always the one pointing you out that how you should just be a woman and confess. “It doesn’t always have to be the guy that says I LIKE YOU!” This what we he said before disappearing into the hives of crowds, leaving you waiting for Sungchan at the front of the public toilet he was finishing his business in. Pretty awkward right? Where else does anyone get to see a girl waiting for her crush in front of a public restroom. Sungchan came back outside, shuffling out his handphone before furrowing his brows at the text he just received. You immediately understood it was from Jeno. You had no idea what came over you, it felt like the adrenaline in your system decided to flood your nervous system, not even aware of yourself just launching at the dude with a chaste kiss on his lips. He was completely taken aback by the sudden feeling of your lips on his, it took him a while before responding you back with the same enthusiasm. You broke first from the kiss, not realising your fists crunching his prior perfectly ironed shirt. But he did not mind it all, a shy smile playing on both of your faces. The rest of the night was spent with your hands laced in his, just like another high school sweethearts of the time.

You smiled at the memory. Sungchan had a cigarette lit between the tips of his fingers, the tobacco smoke slowly poking your nose but not strong enough to bother you. With a deep sigh, he took a puff before blowing it own again in the air, a cloud of smog dancing around his figure.

“You should quit it, it’s not healthy.” It had already been a year since you became friends and six months since you became more than it, but there were times like this when you still found yourself nervous and wary whenever you are talking to him. You snuggled yourself into the cardigan, hugging yourself to minimize the tinges of frostbites. Sungchan was considerate of your discomfort, whenever he smoked, he made sure the cigarette was at least 2 feet away from you. 

“Take this.” Sungchan handed you another thick layer of clothing from his bag, his initials “J.SG” written big and bold. Without much thought, you accepted his kindness, and Sungchan had high tolerance to cold anyways unlike you who would shiver to death in the most usual temperatures. You figured Sungchan decided to dodge the topic you brought it, and you figured it would be better to not bring it up for a while.

“Where do you plan on going for college.” Sungchan spoke while rubbing the shortened cigarette on the bricks of the roof, swallowing the remaining water from his bottle throwing a strawberry gum inside his mouth. You figured he was now free from the reek of tobacco as you scoot closer to his form, opening your arms within the jacket for his to snuggle in as well. Just like Jeno, skinship was no new news for you both too, however; it always had your heart racing like crazy. You both remained cozy under the warm embrace of the jacket, and you prayed Sungchan would never listen how your pulse was acting up.

“I don’t know. Perhaps SNU? I mean only if I get accepted...” You trailed off, propping your chin against your bent knees before glancing at the boy. Then it struck you, what made him ask this sudden question, what made him smoke three cigarettes straight despite having yearly break for a whole month. “Will you be going to the US as well?”

“I don’t know...” Sungchan deeply sighed, his lips forming a small pout as he indulged in deep thought. What if he actually happens to leave for America? Your heart clenched at the thought, mimicking his sighs you rested your head against his shoulder. 

“You know,” You stared at the sky, it was dark and clear with no signs of stars. The feeling was unsettling. “Wherever you go, we’ll always be there for you.” Your eyes shifted to the illuminating lights from numerous buildings that replaced the absence of the twinkling stars in the sky. The ominous feeling soon dissipated into relief. It was as if the universe telling you, we just have to look out for the good sides instead of dwelling on the bad. 

“I know.” Sungchan smiled, one that was both happy and sad. He rested his head on yours, joining your company of gazing at the scenery. “I know.”

“Just...” there was hesitation laced in your tone, Sungchan was quick to notice it as he looked at you, nodding for you to continue. “Please don’t leave...not without a goodbye. Promise me that.”

“I promise you.” Sungchan held your cold hands in his warmer ones, a firm assurance making your heart swell in both hurt and adoration as you kissed him again.

You both never really made it official, despite the kiss at the fair. It was perhaps the uncertainty that held you both back. Sungchan’s future was not in his hands but his family’s; just like his brother, he is supposed to make his family shine bright. It was one of the major reasons why his parents let both the brothers two years of freedom on their remaining bits of high school. ‘All parents want the best for their kids,’ that’s what you would always say to him whenever you meet him at his roof; him smoking while you offered his physical comfort.

The senior year passed within a whim, the fright of entering into adulthood descending upon all the students as they remained buried in their textbooks. Maybe it wasn’t the case for everyone, but it did apply to you and your friends. You remained occupied with you daily extra classes for chemistry while Sungchan had biology and Jeno had mathematics. You three would meet up in periodic breaks, catching up with small talks before returning back to your respective schedules. It was nothing but hectic, and soon, the candle shop returned back to being just another isolated shop in your hometown.

Graduation day was filled with smiles and congratulatory phrases from different individuals, throwing your grad caps in the air felt like as if you were throwing away a significant part of your life, ready to embrace a new version of you. All the parents stood their with proud grins, delighted at their children’s achievement to their dreams.

“Congratulations!” You chirped, receiving bone crushing hugs from both your males before an elderly voice called for you.

“Y/N! Jeno! Sungchan!” It was your mom, waving excitedly to grab you and the males’ attention. “Say cheese!”

“Cheese!” You all resonated together, happy and delighted.

A series of furious knocks jolted you awake from your sleep. You figured it might have been your younger brother, probably wanting your help in his homework.

“I swear to god Y/b/n!” You let out an ear piercing shout, groggily rubbing your eyes from deep slumber.

“It’s me. Jeno.” You heard how breathy his voice sounded, it was coated with urgency and hurt. You heart dropped but you prayed to the Heavens and God, you prayed that it should not be the very thing that you had been dreading so much. You shot up from your bed, not even bothering to make yourself look presentable before whipping the door open to meet with an equally dazed and riled Jeno.

“It’s Sungchan. He...” Jeno beathed out a deep sigh, before handing you a lilac envelope, the initials J.SG written in bold. You failed to feel the tears pooling up, threatening to fall anytime. Jeno glanced over you sympathetically, with shaky trembling hands, you took the the paper. 

You don’t bother to closer the door, Jeno soon taking his leave as he thought it would be best to give you some space to absorb it all in. The tears had started to stream uncontrollably when you saw the picture that came with the letter. It was one of the many pictures that you took on the night of the fair; the day you had confessed, the you had your first kiss. It was a polaroid of you holding him lovingly in an embrace, him shyly placing a kiss on your cheeks with the words ‘Here lies the proof of my utmost love and affection, always devoted to my only Y/N’ scribbled on the white frame. Your hands fished for your cellphone, frantically dialing his number as you waited for him to pick up, hoping that he’ll soothe your anxiety by saying he did not leave, that he was still in town and you were just being delusional.

But every time you dialed his contact, you were being forwarded to the monotonous tone saying that the number was currently unreachable. Your chest squeezed in pain, he had promised you. He promised you that he will come for a goodbye at least. He had promised you that he would never leave you clueless and hurting. All you ever asked for him, was just a goodbye; perhaps a source assurance for you to wait for his return. 

You wiped the tears with the edge of your sleeves, opening the the piece of folded paper.

‘Dear lovely Y/N,

You might resent me when you receive this letter, and I certainly don’t blame you for that. I am not the best with words, I am clumsy and unexpressive but I hope that this piece of scribblings makes you understand all my feelings, my thoughts and emotions that have been haunting me from the day I first saw you.

You know I that I am very much aware that I do....hold some handsome genes.’ You couldn’t help but snicker at this. 

‘However, unlike all, as typical as it may sound, you stood out. You lazily laid sprawling across your desk in deep slumber, completely unaware of the chaos of classroom. I wish I was that carefree like you, indulged in her own world and comfort bubble. It attracted me a lot.’ You got up from the floor, eyes still glued to the piece of paper as you shut your door locked. Your hands still went to dial his contact, but only to be forwarded to that damned robotic voice.

‘I wanted to be like you, not bothered by the constant pressures of coming from a prestigious family. Did I ever tell you my dad is the Director of Myeongsu Hospital?’ You gasped at the sudden information. His dad was the director of the one of the most prestigious and renowned hospitals of South Korea. It was too overwhelming for you to process, but you still found yourself continuing. 

‘It was inevitable for me to act like just another teenager, not for me but for my brother too. I always blamed him for being so selfish when he just left me alone when he came to grandma, I failed to realize that it was some sort of comfort gift from our parents so that we’ll devote ourselves to build the family’s name for the rest of our lives. 

Even though I wanna blame them, I don’t think I can because they had the same fate. It comes with a price when you’re born with a silver spoon, and I guess I had to pay mine when I left your doorstep last night. I...I was a coward. I know I should have just come up, hug you and kiss you for the last time. But I just couldn’t. I was too scared.

I was scared that the moment I’ll see you, my guards will crash down. These two days were really hectic for me, I made up excuses when you invited me at yours because I was afraid of losing my balance. I knew that only a glance at you would be enough to make me change my mind and revolt against my parents, my fate. And you have no idea how much I wanted to do so, you have no idea how I’ve spent endless of sleepless night where it is the only thing that would run on my mind. But you tell me, would it be really worth it? I did not want you spending the rest of your lives with swarming paps and reporters, publishing reports and articles of how you managed to tarnish the heir-in-line of the prestigious hospital. No I could never do to that someone I love so dearly. I could never in a thousand years do that. 

You know every time I picture you in your grown-up self, I can only see a strong and confident woman thriving in her career, a woman that is so powerful but still has a heart of gold. I know that you’ll be an amazing person, inside and out. I wasn’t really planning to express my love and admiration for you like this, I hoped to do it in person, but perhaps, maybe that’s how the stars planned it out for us. Fate is extra cruel in my case don’t you think? 

It would be extremely selfish of me to ask you to wait; I am not even sure if I would ever return because my father would be opening another branch in US. And well, I am not sure what plans he has for me.

So please, if you ever find it in your heart, I hope you will forgive me. And even if you don’t, please don’t ever feel guilty about it. You have all the right to do so and I most certainly deserve your hatred. I love you so much, Y/N. You’re my first kiss, my first love, and you’ll  always hold this irreplaceable place in my heart. 

With Love,

Jung Sungchan.

You felt your world crashing down, a part of you wished that this letter never ended. The only remain from him had also come to an end, and you were not sure how you would be able to cope with his absence for the next years of your life.

Present

“Sungchan is back?” Jeno widened his eyes in shock, the information seemingly unbelievable to him. “He really is?”

“Yes.” You monotonously replied, numerous thoughts battling at the back of your head. Jaemin cleared his throat, a sign for Jeno to not bring up the topic for a while. Jeno eyed the male in confusion before finally getting the hint.

“You’re lucky you don’t get to have Mr.Suh’s classes, he’s just hot and it’s frustrating. And that’s coming from a straight dude like me.” Jeno slurped on his smoothie loud and sound, probably to annoy the other male as he was well aware his distaste to people making sounds while eating.

“Y/N.” a voiced called out from behind, and you instantly knew who it belonged to. 

“Sungchan. Oh my god!” Jeno shot up from his seat, immediately embracing the old face from his past. “How have you been man? You just disappeared...”

“I am so sorry.” Sungchan looked at Jeno with pleading eyes. “I know I have absolutely no excuse for my act and I am just so sorry, Jeno and Y/N.” Sungchan looked at Jeno who silently urged him to talk to you.

“Y/N, please talk to me. I don’t expect your forgiveness but please. Atleast curse me, hit me just do anything. Please.”

You whipped your head to find Sungchan crouching down to match your seat level, a sigh escaping from you as you stood straight from your seat. 

“Guys, I’ll be back.” You gripped his hands before dragging him alongside the canteen corridor.

Jaemin looked over his friend who stood staring at the way you just took. And expressionless look was painted on his features, causing Jaemin to shake his head and sigh. “You know man,” Jeno changed his attention to the male speaking, fixing his glasses. “If I were you, I would have just held her back. You’re extremely strong, I could have never done that.” With that Jaemin patted his friend’s back, a silent assurance that if he needed a shoulder to cry or to simply lean on for comfort, he’ll be there for him.

A mixture of feelings were erupting inside you, you were furious but happy. Sad but grateful. You scanned the halls for signs of any empty classroom and upon finding one you just shoved the male inside it.

“What’s so funny about messing with my feelings?” You already tears welling up, your vision blurry as you sharply glance at the male with a frown on his face.

“Y/N, I would nev-”

“You left me,” you utterly hated at how pathetic you sounded at the moment, harshly wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks. “You promised me that you won’t leave without showing up one last time, but you did. You fucking did.” You knew it was not something under his control, but you couldn’t help but pour your bottled feelings.

“Please...Y/N...listen..to me...Please..” Sungchan lost his composure, his voice breaking as he stepped closer to you. Seeing how you did not flinch at his approach, Sungchan captivated you in his embrace, something that he had been yearning for ever since he parted ways. You felt the wetness of his tears on your head, melting in his longing embrace you found yourself hugging him back. You missed him so much, his scent, warmth, presence. Everything about him drove you crazy, you were still dazed to believe if he was actually back for real or is it just one of your numerous daydreams. 

The rest of the days went as usual, but only with the addition of Sungchan back again in your life. Although you had long forgiven him in his heart, you decided to not vocal it out. As heartless as it may sound, you wanted him to make up for the pain he caused you, and he indeed did. Jaemin was skeptical in the beginning at the idea of another person joining you small group, he had come to liking the idea of you guys as trio and was more comfortable like that. But he saw how your eyes lit up every time you about him when you were newly friends with Jaemin, how Jeno would always drunk talk about the times they passed as seatmates bothering the hell out of you. So Jaemin broke his exterior cold composure on the fourth day, finally accepting the banana milk from the new male as a form of bribe for his addition to the group.

Sungchan worked harder than deities; always making sure to get you Americanos before your classes, taking extra notes for you whenever you felt sick, tolerating your extremely drunk self and even dropping you back at your dorms safely. He had mentioned how he finally mustered up the courage to stand up against his fathers, that he wanted to do something else rather than working in the medical field. Even though he had still yet to decided his desired career, Sungchan decided to just follow his intuitions which ended up him taking chemistry as his major and thus landing in the same institution and same class as yours. And not to mention, he was beyond grateful for it.

A month had passed with his arrival, the awkwardness amongst everyone long gone and forgotten. It was as if he never left you. You were never over him, so his all time sweet gestures was making it harder for you to maintain your cold act.

“I happened to attempt making kimbap? But I am not sure if they are edible..” Sungchan trailed off as he hesitantly hands you the small metal box. You almost laughed at how cute but messy they looked, his failed attempt at giving the rolls eyes and lips with sesame seeds and ketchup was beyond adorable. You took the box from his grasp, a smile playing on your face as you looked at him. Sungchan upon noticing your grin, rubbed the nap of his neck shyly, his ears and cheeks mirror the shade the of the ketchup. You took a bite from one of the many rolls he made, a hum of satisfaction escaping your lips as you relished the tangy sweet taste. It was perfect, just how you preferred it.

“It’s pretty good.” You licked the stain of ketchup from your fingers, failing to notice how the male blushed harder at your subtle act. “We have Mr.Lee’s class, so I believe we should hurry up before it’s too late.”

On the night of the annual university carnival, Sungchan confessed to you. At least not in front of a public washroom this time. With the constant aid of Jeno and Jaemin, Sungchan was able to plan out a pretty dramatic confession for you. You were completely surprised when Jaemin called you out of nowhere, frantically asking for your presence to a specific classroom. You feared if the dork had committed some sort of treason explaining how dramatic he sounded, so you rushed without giving any second thoughts. However, when you saw the trail of roses with candles adorning the edges, you froze. It had the same scent both you and Sungchan had invented; the sweet scent of lily with tinges of tangerine to it.

A flustered looking Sungchan steps out from the dark, his hands rest behind his back as you cautiously scanned your face. When he saw no signs of discomfort, Sungchan slowly jogged to where you stood, his hands holding a bouquet of lilies with a small note on top of it.

“I know I have made tons of mistakes, hurt you so many times. But I still want to test my luck.” Sungchan got down on his knees, holding the bouquet with his head hanging low. “Y/L/N, will you allow me to be your man? Will you be my girlfriend?”

A shit eating grin spread on your face, slightly giggling at how adorable he looked. “I thought you’d never ask.” You took the flowers, a soft smile adorning your lips as you lock eyes with an extremely surprised Sungchan. “Of course Sungchan.”

“Of course? For real?” Sungchan couldn’t believe what just happened, he was half expecting you to flat out reject him at how inconsiderate he had been. But you accepted his apology, accepted his love. Sungchan stood up, his heart squeezing in delight and adoration for you. He cupped your face gently, as if you were a porcelain doll that would just break if not handled carefully. You saw how his eyes shone with love, sparkling brightly on the soft light from the lighted candles and you swore you never felt so much before for anyone else as much as you felt for him. Sungchan closed the proximity, his nose slight touching yours as he rested his forehead against yours, the smiling never for once leaving his face. 

The tension was building up with each passing second, the sounds of your heavy breathing being the only silence breaker. You got impatient, the feeling of his lush lips got you being greedy as you closed the distance standing on your tip-toes, momentarily catching him off the grid before receiving the same attention back. You gripped on his shirt, too unbothered to break the kiss despite losing your breath. He paused for a moment, panting before pulling you back under his spell. The bottled feelings and emotions of longing and pining for each other were poured into the this sweet shared moment of yours. You were grateful that the whole building had no signs of any lurking students and professors, what was supposed to be a innocent make-up kiss soon transformed into a heated one as he held you by your waist, pinning you against the wall with his lips still attached to yours.

You pulled back for the heavy make-out session, almost earning a whine from the male before you soothed him with you words that came next. “I love you.”

 Sungchan felt his already beating heart pick up its pace, becoming hastier that he was low-key afraid if he might face a stroke anytime. With a loving grin, he looked back at you who was still caged in his arms. He tucked the stray of hair brushing across the sides of your face from the soft breeze entering the windows, the illuminating yellow hues from the candles making you look like a dream. A dream that seemed unattainable to him until this very moment.

“I love you so so much. Thank you. Thank you for giving me a chance to prove myself, to allow me to show you my feelings, Y/N.” He was breathless, he felt so many emotions at that moment when you glanced at him loving. He was afraid his pulse might stop any moment, so he kissed you back, but now filled with passion and desire. And let’s just say, one of your fantasies were fulfilled that night.

The news of his grandma passing away came after a few months when you both had officially started dating. Both the Jungs were extremely close to her, so when Jaehyun took her back to Myeongsu Hospital where he was currently the chief of neurology, her condition was inevitable. Jaehyun hoped that maybe she might get to spend more time on earth under his care, but he too was victim in the cruel hands of destiny. Sungchan rushed to your dorm, bloodshot eyes as he told you the news. You found yourself sobbing alongside him, tenderly keeping him embraced in your warmth as you shared his pain. You knew her personally as well, all the moments spent with her were a profound favorite part of teen years. 

“I wanted to meet you before I leave for Seoul. I came to say a goodbye.” Sungchan sniffed, his hands wiping away the streams of water rolling down your face. You smiled at his concern, mimicking his actions you brushed his sweaty bangs away from his forehead before placing a soft peck against it.

“It’s okay. Don’t tell me goodbyes anymore...for I know you’ll always come back to me.”

Epilogue

Sungchan fumbled with his tie nervously, bile reaching up his throat as the worst scenarios flooded his brains. His eyes frantically looked around for help, making a bow-tie was just not his cup of his. A breath of relief escapes his lips when his eyes landed on his closest beloved friend Jeno. Jeno stood leaning against the door frame, an amused grin painting his sharp features as he walked to the struggling male.

“Bro...” Sungchan huffed pleadingly, a pout forming his eyes.

“Yes bro.” Jeno flashed him an eye roll, before having the same eye smile again as he fixed his friend’s tie. After all, it was a big event for him.

To say the least, you looked breathtaking in your white laced gown. The simplicity of the dress made you look more elegant, it enhanced your natural beauty and Sungchan couldn’t just tear his eyes away from your form. It was supposed to be the bride’s day, but to him you shone the brightest.

“You know it’s me getting married, but the new comers might assume it’s you considering how you are gaping at y/n shamelessly.” Jaehyun hissed to his best man, earning a scoff from Sungchan.

“Hyung, let me have my moment! Please.” Sungchan whined but was careful to tone it down, only to receive a slight nudge from the groom who chuckled at his antics. 

The wedding was glamorous, elegant, anything that could be named as a dream wedding. Sungchan remained glued beside you the whole night, a proud grin on his face every time he was asked about the lady whose arms laid locked with his. With a smug look, he would rub on their faces that you were his girlfriend, especially exaggerating to the males who seemed to had their eyes on you. You both enjoyed the silent company of each other, the soothing sounds of the wind replacing the absence of music as Sungchan drove you back to your place, hands still intertwined. When he came in front of your shared apartment, he fidgeted in his seat nervously; fishing out something from his coat. 

You figured it was another one of his endless gifts, so you just smiled with your back resting against the cushion seat of the car. 

“Sungchan, you really need to-”

A throat seering stopped you in the midst of speaking, your eyes widening when you realized what the purple velvet box might contain. Sungchan let out breaths of nervousness, blowing out some air out of his lungs to lessen the feeling of anxiety as he looked at you, eyes as genuine as ever.

“Y/N, I don’t believe in fancy proposals as you know. It is an intimate moment for us so I want it to happen in the presence of only us.” Sungchan stuttered in the middle as he opened the box, revealing an extremely gorgeous but simple plated band with a small stone adorning the top perfectly.

“So will you marry me?”

You stared at the male dumbfounded. Your eyes refused to believe the scene in front of you, hearts doing numerous flips and turns and it was just hard to explain all the feelings you were feeling. Sungchan had always been the one for you, and even though not everyone gets to have a happy ending with their first love, you were beyond grateful that you had happened to fall in the rare probability.

“I...OF COURSE. OF COURSE I WILL.” You yelped in delight, shoving your hand in front of his face as he just laughed while placing the ring on your finger. It fit perfectly. You grabbed him by the collar and kissed him with your overpowering passion and love, not realizing how if continued any longer, you guys might have to pay a fine for parking on the wrong side. So without wasting any time further, you both hauled yourselves to your apartment, refusing to break the contact of your lips molded perfectly together on your way. In short, let’s just say ‘sweet innocent kiss transformed into a heated one’ yet again.

© urlocalnctstan 2021

I went completely overboard with this. I am so sorry if it didn’t turn up as you had expected it to, and honestly I am not completely pleased with it either. I felt like it could’ve been better in terms of expressing emotions. However, improvement is a never ending proccess and im still learning. SO TO WHOEVER WHO HAPPENED TO MAKE THIS TILL HERE. I LOVE YOU SODIJMS YOU DONT KNOW HOW MUCH IT MEANS TO ME. 

Feedbacks and criticisms are always appreciated! Please care to leave them as it may help me potentially grow as a writer. Thank you for sparing your time to read my piece of work.

with love,

Hana.

[manonblaqkbeak]

Everything Will Be Okay

Hello, hello. Hope you’re all having a good weekend. Here I am again with yet another Rowaelin fanfic (what a surprise lol). It’s on my ao3 under the name of novicewriter94.

“With their eldest child being eight and the anniversary of Aelin's parents death coming up, Aelin is worried that history will repeat itself. Rowan tells her that everything will be okay, and that they will spend the night as a family. “

2102 words

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Aelin was about five seconds away from setting the stupid shoe on fire. At twenty weeks pregnant with her forth child, Aelin's feet were well and truly swollen. She tried one more time to get the rutting shoe on her foot, failed spectacularly, and threw it at the closest door just as Rowan came out of it.

Her mate merely blinked and picked up the offending shoe, glanced at it and left it in the closet and crouched in front of her, taking her tender foot in his warm hand and began to message it gently. It was a familiar and welcome sight, but right now Aelin was too grouchy to appreciate it.

After long minutes, however, Aelin sighed as the tension in her feet faded away as did her grouchiness. When he was done, Rowan placed her slippers back onto her feet. “I have to go to a meeting with a Melisande adviser, I can't go wearing slippers,” Aelin told him. Although that meeting was the last thing she wanted to go too. She had been exhausted this last week and right now all she wanted was to go to sleep.

“You're four months pregnant and the Queen, I think you can wear slippers wherever and whenever you want,” Rowan said casually.

“Well, when you put it like that,” Aelin said, a small smile on her face.

Glancing at his wife, Rowan's eyes were open and understanding and he took her hands in his own, running his thumbs against her knuckles soothingly. “I know that the anniversary of your parents death is coming up,” he started to say and Aelin tensed up again. “But nothing will happen.”

“You don't know that.”

“No, I don't, but I'm confident that nothing will happen.”

After a moment, Aelin said, “Elentiya is eight, Rowan.”

“I know.”

“She's eight years old,” Aelin said, “and she's scared of worms, Rowan. She loves gardening, but hates worms. She nearly punctured my ear drums last week when one touched her. I was placed in Arobynn's hands at eight and Elentiya is just the complete opposite of me at that age.” Not that she resented her daughter for that, not at all, but just thinking of how different their lives were at that age just hurt like hell.

At eight, Aelin's whole life changed—and Aelin was terrified of the same thing happening to her family. Everything in Erilea was perfectly fine, she knew that, but Aelin could not shake this dreadful feeling that something was going to happen.

“Nothing will happen,” Rowan promised again. Removing his hands from hers, he placed them on her belly, their baby kicking. Another small smile graced Aelin's face at the movement and Rowan moved forward to kiss her stomach.

Pulling back, he gave her a smile and told her the one thing that would calm her frantic thoughts. “For our forth child, I see a fine-boned daughter with silver hair and clear blue eyes.”

A wide smile broke out on Aelin's face. “Another girl?” Rowan nodded. “I don't mind either way, but I would really like another girl.”

Rowan kissed her stomach again. “I'm sure Elentiya will be excited, she was complaining the other day how about her brothers 'stink'.”

Aelin's answering laugh made Rowan smile, happy that he could help her in any way.

When Aelin's laugh faded, she kissed Rowan's cheek. “You still haven't told me how you know what our babies look like.” Each pregnancy, he told her what he envisioned—and each time he was correct.

At first, Aelin thought it was just strangely accurate guesswork when Elentiya arrived with her golden hair and pine green eyes, she was too ecstatic about her arrival to think much about it, and when she gave birth to Norrin and his silver hair and Ashryver eyes shined brightly in the early afternoon sun, she did wonder but again was far too ecstatic to question it too much. However, when she gave birth to their third child, Alder, and he came out with Rowan's silver hair and pine-green eyes, she knew that there was more to it then guesswork.

Rowan gave her a bright smile, the one that crinkled his eyes. It was one of her favourites. “It's a secret.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, but didn't say anything about keeping secrets from her, considering that she used to do the same thing—not anymore, however, but still.

Aelin did feel a little better, but her dread didn't disappear completely. Rowan knew that too and kissed her lightly on the lips. “On that night, we'll have the kids with us, and they'll keep you distracted with all their stories and terrible, never-ending jokes—”

“Their jokes aren't that bad,” Aelin interrupted.

“They are, and I love that about them,” Rowan finished. “And you'll be too distracted to let those thoughts through.”

“Will there be cake?”

His smile brightened even more. “Of course.”

Aelin smiled and kissed him, knowing that everything would be okay, even though the feeling of dread still lingered. She would not be afraid. She would tell herself that each day until the anniversary passed.

X X X X X X

The day of her parents death arrived and Aelin had been on edge all day. She didn't go to any meetings, instead she spent most of the day in the library that Rowan gifted her years ago with Alder. Her current youngest child was two but would be a little over three by the time that his newest sibling would arrive.

Tucked away on a window seat, Aelin read aloud to him. He was her little bookworm, he loved books and often wanted to go to the library. Her son would often ask Aelin to read to him and not just the children's books, but history, mathematics, poetry, the arts, anything. She knew that when his reading skills grew more that he would always have a book in his hands.

Aelin finally left the library in the afternoon, Alder on her hip with a thick history tome that he wanted her to read to him in her other arm, eager to see his Uncle Aedion. Her cousin had arrived (for “no apparent reason” which she knew was bullshit) to stay here for a few days, so she left to get ready for an early dinner with him, listening as Alder babbled on about his favourite parts of the stories she read him, how he couldn't wait to see his Uncle, with Aelin listening with rapt attention.

Aelin found Rowan walking to the library and took Alder from her when their youngest stretched his arms out for his father to carry him, saying that he would bathe him and for Aelin to enjoy a nice, quiet bath before dinner. Linking her arm with Rowan's, Aelin thought of which tonics she would use for her hair for tonight, Aelin truly was happy that Aedion was here, shit excuse and all.

X X X X X X

After bathing Norrin and Alder, Aedion arrived at Elentiya's room and Rowan's heart swelled at how excited all his children were to see their uncle, but when Aedion started towards his and Aelin's chambers to have dinner on their balcony, Elentiya stayed behind, a curious look in her pine-green eyes.

Rowan tucked a stray hair behind her pointed ear and before he could ask if she was okay, she surprised him by saying: “Mama's been sad all week.”

“She has.” Elentiya was more observant than most eight year old's should be, her observation skills reminded him of Elide's.

“Is it because of her mama and papa, because they're dead?” Rowan remembered clearly the day that Aelin had to tell Elentiya why she had no grandparents, how that even though her parents were gone, Evalin and Rhoe loved Elentiya wherever they were. That Rowan's parents loved her, too.

The how and why Aelin's parents were dead was not known to any of their children, not yet.

“It is. They've been gone for a long time as you know, but she still misses them dearly. She was your age when they passed,” Rowan told his oldest. “So tonight, she'll be a little sad, and will probably smother you with all her hugs and kisses.”

“That's okay, I like mama's hugs and kisses.”

Rowan smiled. “Good, because you're probably going to get a years worth tonight.”

Elentiya surprised him even more when she raised her arms, silently asking him to carry her. She had stopped when she was six and a half, claiming that she “wasn't a baby anymore” and that she no longer wanted to be carried.

So with a full heart, Rowan lifted her up, his firstborn tucking her head into the crook of his neck. Planting a soft kiss on her forehead, Rowan went to his chambers and tucked Elentiya closer to him.

X X X X X X

Elentiya-Fenrys, Norrin, and Alder got more than a years worth of hugs and kisses, and Aelin still had plenty to give them as they all snuggled in for the night, the quilt and blankets tucked up high against them. Rowan stayed atop of the bedding, dressed in leather armour, ready to stand immediately in case of action. He knew nothing would occur, but his plan tonight involved staying awake to keep a watchful eye on everything.

The kids had spent the night drawing, playing Aelin's pianoforte (a little badly, if Aelin and Rowan were being honest, but they had fun, and that was all that mattered), dancing around, singing (again, a little badly), playing at hand shadows, playing whatever games they made up on the spot. An argument had broken out between Elentiya and Norrin about who Uncle Aedion loved more (Aelin had to tell them about half a dozen times that he loved them equally before they finally decided to listen). It certainly was a loud night—but he knew that it worked; he did not see any fear in his Fireheart's eyes.

Elentiya was cuddled against Aelin's right side, her head tucked underneath Aelin's chin. Alder on Aelin's left, with Norrin cuddling him, his shaggy silver hair sprawled on Aelin's bare arm. His wife's arms were wrapped around them. Their children talked to Aelin's swollen belly, all three excited to meet their newest sibling—with each of them giving name options.

And Norrin provided the perfect distraction when he asked his mother how babies ended up in women's bellies. Aelin turned to Rowan for that, a coy smile on her lips as she innocently asked Rowan if he knew the answer to their son's question, claiming that the details were a “little foggy”.

Truthfully, Rowan wasn't expecting to be asked that question for many years. Aelin looked ready to start laughing as Rowan took a minute too long to respond. Eventually, he gave a basic answer without giving too much away—and without the sordid details.

Since none of their children looked scarred from his answer, he supposed that he was successful—until the time to give a proper answer arrived.

But now it was time for bed and as Aelin lowered the flames in the hearth, Rowan reached over and kissed his children on the forehead goodnight, telling each one that he loved them very much. He kissed Aelin on the lips, promising him that she would see him in the morning and that he loved her, to whatever end. He kissed away the few tears that fell, the first of the night, telling her that everything would be okay. Kissing her once more, and pressing a kiss to her covered belly, he wished her a goodnight and Aelin finally closed her eyes and tucked their children impossibly closer.

Soon, her snoring filled the room and Rowan sat up straight and did not leave their rooms for anything.

X X X X X X

When the sun rose on the new day, Rowan gently woke Aelin up and as she saw that all of them were unharmed, she smiled brightly, even as tears filled her eyes.

Aelin kissed Rowan fiercely, her happiness a song in her blood.

She kissed their children awake, even as they grumbled at the rude interruption, and when Elentiya asked if they could have hot chocolate for breakfast, Aelin promised a mountain's worth of the drink.

Neither Aelin or Rowan attended their royal duties for the day, and instead spent the day with their children, and invited Aedion along, since he would be leaving the next day. Aelin's eyes were bright and full of love.

[chandelier-s-notebook]

One afternoon five year old Tommy asks if his friends could have a watch party at Phil’s the next day. “Please please please! The Blade is going to be in a big tournament run by Lake!”

“The Blade,” Wilbur teases. “Some days it seems like you love him more than us some days.”

“Never!” Tommy shot a distraught look a Wilbur. “Please please please!”

Phil laughed. “How many friends?”

“The whole gang.”

“How many Tommy’s do I need to feed?”

“Just one!” He smiled. “And eight friends.”

“Well I’m not staying then. One Tommy is enough.”

“You love me!”

“Do not!”

“Do to!”

Wilbur stuck out his tongue at Tommy. “Minecraft Monday right?”

“Yeah!”

“I’m gonna go watch it at the Soots’ if you don’t mind. We’re going to cheer on Schlatt.”

“Schlatt’s in it?” Tommy wore the most adorable conflicted facial features.

“Awww. Tommy.” Wilbur brought Tommy in for a hug. “You watch your beloved Blade. Schlatt can tell you about it next time you come to MineVille.”

“Okay!” He batted Wilbur off of him. “I’m ready to go to Hypixel now!”

Phil laughed. He once again wondered if it was save to just let his five year old son run around Hypixel where there was nothing stopping from playing the same dangerous games as the Blade. He wondered if he should really be letting his ten year old son play with the type of kid to get invited to Minecraft Monday with the Blade. Oh well, too late to change. Besides, both of his sons have never come back home hurt.

Both MineVille and Hypixel were infinite life servers. None of that three important cannon death stuff. So they could always return to the server no matter what and they were never hurt.

After dropping his kids off, he reopened the book he had gotten in the mail. “Minecraft Monday.” He had declined the invitation but if both of his sons were excited about it, then maybe he’d have to reconsider.

Of course, it seemed that neither of his boys would be watching his perspective nor cheering him on, but they might get a kick out of seeing him in the background.

Other problem, should be really be leaving nine Tommy aged kids alone in his house? Absolutely; live life on the edge.

- - -

Wilbur ran off to meet up with Connor before stepping through the MineVille portal to prepare to watch the event with the Soots.

Phil went in with Tommy to pick up his friends. He’d met Tommy’s friends before, none of them lived in Hypixel and sometimes they’d run into each other in the Hall.

Phil followed Tommy around the Hub Server to the designated meeting spot: Hub 1 in the TNT Games Lobby. They played around in TNT run while waiting for Tommy’s friends to arrive. One by one they all arrived; Jack, Cyber and Badlinu, Tubbo, Rudy, Bitzel and Deo, and Luke.

“You’re parents are all chill with this right? I don’t think I’ve met all of them yet.”

“Yes Mr. Tommy’s Dad,” Tubbo said for the crowd. “My Homeworld is 2B2T so my parents don’t really care.”

Deo lightly jabbed the other boy in the side. “Bad example. We want to be reinvited.”

“What! I’m just being honest!”

“It’s fine,” Phil soothed the jokey tension. “Just making sure I’m not kidnapping anyone.”

“We are kidnapping someone. You!” Tommy grabbed Phil’s arm and started to run towards the portal.

“Tommy!” Phil tripped over himself a few steps but he was eventually running along with the kids. He must look crazy. It was fine. He loved his boy. Boys, but Wilbur wasn’t here right this very second.

- - -

Phil was impressed with the technology used. Lake had gotten some really good engineers working on his show. All of the competitors seemed to be outfitted with a camera on their person that’s connected to a live video feed, so anyone from any world could watch their favourte competitor.

Going in, the Blade seemed to be the favourite to win. That was a given given the audience on Phil’s couch, but some of the other competitors seemed to think that as well.

The ten of them watched the Blade’s perspective on the big screen TV. Phil kept Schlatt’s feed open on his handheld just to keep an eye on him, and gauge how Wilbur would be feeling when he got home the next day.

Over the course of four hours Phil got more and more invested in the Blade. He watched this guy tear down the competition all the while making jokes with his teammate. Like it was nothing. Like he was having fun. Like he was simply running around with his friend on the play ground.

Phil watched the Blade’s team intersect with Schlatt’s team near the end of one of the rounds. He looked to his handheld, and saw pink. This man, this killer, this winner, was a piglin. No wonder killing seemed second nature. He slashed through Schlatt in two hits.

Comm from Wilbur “This Blade guy is good.” and “No wonder Tommy likes him so much.”

- - -

Phil is in the roaster the second week of Minecraft Monday. He’s a little on the older side of the competitors at 27, but he’s put with Jerome, someone as old as he. The two mingle and bond. They get to know each other, they play off each other’s strengths and weaknesses.

Well. Not yet. But they’ll get teamed together for weeks to come and they’ll learn.

He knows that his sons are watching; Wilbur over at the Soot’s in MineVille and Tommy with his buds in his kitchen.  He left his girlfriend Kristen to watch over the kids. He hopes that both she doesn’t strangle them and that they don’t send her running for the hills.

Phil spends a few minutes catching up with Schlatt, wishing him well.

He doesn’t get close to the Blade. Jerome doesn’t seem to care for him and Phil doesn’t want to make a bad first impression.

In his first encounter with the Blade he expects to know what’s going on. He’s heard plenty from Tommy and watched the first week, and he’s not a bad fighter himself. He doesn’t stand a chance against the piglin. He gives it his all, going down swinging.

He laughs as he gets teleported out of the game. He sends a comm to Tommy “Dishes for a week if I ever take him down.”

“Deal.”

Techno wins the whole show again.

Phil goes over to congratulate the piglin on his victory. The Blade tells him that he fought well.

 Tommy doesn’t shut up about that encounter all week.

- - -

Phil continues to compete week after week; getting a feel or Jerome’s play style. They become a solid team.

He also watches the Blade. He says it’s to stake out the competition. Really it’s to make sure that Tommy is picking a good role model to look up to. And maybe to learn a few things along the way.

The week that the Blade and Schlatt are teamed together and win is a very loud one for Phil.

- - -

Two weeks after that, Wilbur gets letter in the mail asking him to play in Minecraft Monday. His new friend Jack Sucks wanted to team.

He looks up at his father expectantly. Tommy is bouncing on his toes, excited for Wilbur. His older brother, in Minecraft Monday with the Blade!

“How old are you again?”

“Ten.”

“They really don’t have a minimum age on this event do they?” He puts his face in his hands. He can’t say no to his kids.

- - -

Two weeks later, Phil gets a letter in the mail regarding the next event. “You’ll be teamed with Technoblade.” He doesn’t tell Tommy.

 Phil arrives at the Lobby for the event. He gets is camera and his team placement. He, like many others, is here early and there’s still time before he needs to hook up the camera to the live feed.

“Hello Philza.”

He turns. “Technoblade.” He extends his hand for a shake.

“Techno please.”

“Phil then.”

“That works. I hope you don’t mind the teammate swap. They’ve been carting me around every week and they let me pick this time.”

“And you chose me?”

“You’re good. And cool. And I’ve heard of you before.”

“You’ve heard of me?” Phil found that hard to believe.

“Of course; you’re the hardcore guy. Working away on his world on one life for years.”

Phil blanched. “It’s nothing special.”

“As someone who neva dies and kills so very often, yes it is.”

“Oh. Well. I’ve heard about you as well.”

“Good things I hope.”

“The best things.”

 They decimate. They win by a landslide.

Phil decides that he likes this guy. They exchange comms information, and promise to stay in touch.

After the feeds turn off of course. Tommy would freak and die on the spot if he heard that interaction. Wilbur almost did, bounding up to Phil with his eleventh place ribbon in hand. He managed to keep his cool and give off a good first impression.

He teased Tommy about the conversation all week.

 Phil and Wilbur teamed the next week. They played a little game of hide and seek in the Lobby with Technoblade and Connor while they waited for the event to start.

 The week after that Wilbur got to team with Techno. Phil felt it was safe to leave his son with the piglin. He was capable, and he’d keep Wilbur out of too much trouble.

- - -

Tommy and his friends barraged Phil and Wilbur, begging to know what the Blade was like; some more than others. But once the boys were all gone, and Kristen had left back to her homeworld, and it was quiet.

Wilbur told Tommy was Technoblade was really like. How he looked out for his teammates, even when they were weaker and generally bringing down his efficiency. How he was actually just a chill dude.

Phil told Tommy about how cool it was to watch him fight up close. How you could see hoe effortlessly he used any weapon the games bestowed upon him.

They told that to little Tommy and little Tommy only. They told him how he was more than the legends said. How he was a person. How he told Phil he could call him Techno.

 As sat on the couch, his boys asleep beside him he wondered. How old was Techno? He had to be old enough to do all those things Tommy had told him about. But he still must have been pretty young if he was still as dexterous as he was. Twenty-three maybe, that sounded right. He had the build and voice for twenty-three. Maybe he’d ask one day.

The question never seemed to come to mind whenever Techno was around.