#1st time was as i was going to/coming home from middle school in the Crowded metro so that was fun

[highvern]

Home for the Holidays

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x fem!reader

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

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

Length: ~24k

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

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

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

June 27th

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

“I think we should break up.”

“and forth so much but—What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

December 7th

Wooyoung

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Actually mom—”

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

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

He might as well start digging his own grave.

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

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

“Love you too.”

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

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

Wooyoung: Can I call you?

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

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

Y/N🥰🍯💖: are you okay?

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

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

“Hi.” She deadpans.

“Is it a bad time?”

“What do you want, Woo?”

“How have you been?”

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

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

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, tell her now.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now he’s the one to pause, “Really?”

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

“Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

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

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

“Bye.”

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

Wooyoung: My flight out is 12/21

Wooyoung: You don’t have to come that early 

Y/N🥰🍯💖: im off starting the 19th

Wooyoung: I’ll pay for your flight

Y/N🥰🍯💖: great

Y/N🥰🍯💖: ill venmo you

Wooyoung: Cool, send me the details

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

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

Lovers. Almost fiancées. And now strangers.

December 10th

Wooyoung

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

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

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

“Fuck me!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

SANNIE⛰️: YOU DIDN’T TELL YOUR PARENTS? 

SANNIE⛰️: U R SO FUCKED

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

Y/N🥰🍯💖: here’s my ticket 

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

Wooyoung: Why are you flying out of LGA?

Y/N🥰🍯💖: Because I live here?

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

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

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

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

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

“This is the third time this month.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N

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

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

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

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

“Because…” 

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

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

“I really like his family.”

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

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

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

“Yep.”

“This can’t go wrong at all!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N: Because I live here

Youngie 🖤: since when?

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

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

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

Wooyoung

Wooyoung: since when?

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

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

Wooyoung: Did you know Y/N moved here?

Yeosang: Yes.

Well fuck.

Wooyoung: You didn’t think to tell me?

Yeosang: You broke up.

Yeosang: ?

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

Double fuck.

December 14th

Y/N

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N: no thanks

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

December 21st

Wooyoung

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

“Bringing home anyone special?”

“When are you going to get married?”

“Grandchildren?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Congrats, man.”

“Thanks.” Wooyoung gives a tight smile.

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

He really needs a drink.

Y/N

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

“No charge?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cranberry margarita.”

“Wanna start a tab?”

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

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

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

Wooyoung

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

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

And a sour look of absolute disgust twisting her lips.

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

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

Wonderful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Great.

Y/N

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No! Not you, sorry!”

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

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

Great.

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

“Hey,” calls a voice to your left. 

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

“Y/N,” he tries again.

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

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

“How’ve you been?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No way! My mom is from Lanesville.”

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

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

“Excuse me.” Wooyoung arrives over your shoulder.

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

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

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

“How’ve you been?”

“Fine.”

“How’s work?”

“Fine.”

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

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

“Fine.” You sigh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cold, wet. Lots of sick babies.”

“At least they’re consistent!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Still?” She gasps.

“Unfortunately, I think it’s terminal.”

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

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

Wooyoung

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s gotten better about knocking!”

“Yeah, after she saw us having sex!”

Not like that’s gonna happen again.

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

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

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

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

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

December 22nd

Y/N

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want some breakfast, sweetie?” 

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

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

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

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

Wooyoung

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s Kyungmin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She’s a guest!”

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

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

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

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

Y/N

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wooyoung, Y/N. Is everything okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?” 

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

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

“That’s really not neccess–”

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

Wooyoung

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

December 23rd

Y/N

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wonderful.

Wooyoung

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

Y/N

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” 

“You work with kids, right?”

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

“I mean not anytime soon considering…”

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

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

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

“Mia, are you and Myungho?”

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

“Scared?”

She nods sheepishly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me too.”

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wooyoung

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

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

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

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

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

“C’mon it's almost time for dinner.” 

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

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

“I can get Bibi up here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The little sugar addict is nothing if not predictable.

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

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

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

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

“Mine’s the Grinch,” Kyungmin says.

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

“See, you get it!” 

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

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

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

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

“Home Alone,” his mom chimes.

A chorus of groans around the table answer.

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

Nodding in appreciation, Wooyoung presents his.

“Nightmare Before Christmas.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mistletoe!” his mom squeals.

“Huh?” Grunts Y/N, confused.

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

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

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

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

Y/N

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

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

What was wrong with you? 

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

December 24th

Wooyoung

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine,” Wooyoung pants. “Why?”

“Because you’re out here.”

“Just helping out.”

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“Okay.”

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

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

“Have you heard from anywhere yet?”

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

“Was it that bad?”

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

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

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

“Yeah, that sounds pretty creepy.”

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

“Who’s Andi?”

“A friend.” 

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

“What's she like?”

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

“Oh?”

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

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“So you like her?”

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

“Kyungmin…”

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

“Why do you think that?”

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

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

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

“Oh, really?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah but it’s B.Y.O.W.”

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

“Just think about what I said, okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bibi.” You whisper back.

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

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

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

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

Wooyoung

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

“What are you doing?”

“You took the floor last night.”

“You don’t hav–”

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

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

“I’m fine.” 

“Just take the bed.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

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

“Why are you being so stubborn?”

“I’m stubborn? Me?”

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

“Because I’m fine here!”

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

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping. Now shut up.”

“Wooyoung,” she sighs.

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

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

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

December 25th

Wooyoung

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit!” 

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

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

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

Y/N

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pull out a cardboard box and a thick card.

“To my future Daughter in Law,

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

Love, Mrs. Jung”

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

“Oh, I can’t—”

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

“But I really—”

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

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

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

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

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

Wooyoung

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

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

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

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

“What’s the necklace about?”

“Your mom gave it to me.”

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

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

“I didn’t realize she’d—”

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

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

“I don’t know.”

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

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

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

“You just gave up.”

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

“Boston was always a problem!”

“Which I was already planning to fix.”

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

“What?”

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

“You’re joking.”

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

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

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

“You what?”

“I got scared.”

“Of me?”

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

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

“Kind of, I—”

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

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

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

“I still have it by the way.”

“What?”

“The ring.”

“Why?”

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

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

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

“Then why’d you do it?”

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

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

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

“Not anyone.”

Y/N

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

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

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

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

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please,” you whisper into his mouth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

December 26th

Wooyoung

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

December 29th

Wooyoung

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

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

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

“Huh?”

“Wooyoung, I know.”

“How… she told you?”

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

“What’d she say?”

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

“Did she say anything else?”

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

“I made a mistake.”

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

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

“Where is that coming from?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

December 30th

Wooyoung

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

“You’re pathetic.”

“Fuck you.” Wooyoung responds.

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

“She doesn’t want me!”

“Did you ask her?” 

“I don’t have to!”

“You’re an idiot.” Yeosang butts in.

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

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

“It’s not that easy!”

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

“What if she says no?”

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

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

December 31st

Wooyoung

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

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

“Go fuck yourself!”

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

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

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

“What makes this time so different?”

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

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

And the line clicks dead.

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

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

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

“What?”

“Y/N works at NewYork-Presbyterian.”

“How do you know that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why didn't you say something?”

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

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

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

“So why are you telling me now?”

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

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

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

January 1st

Y/N

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

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

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

Impression: Upper respiratory infection, right otitis media

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

–W

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

January 3rd

Wooyoung

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She isn’t coming.

She doesn’t want him back.

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

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

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

“Hi.” He says, dumbfounded.

“Hi.”

“You came.”

“I did.”

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

“I’m sorry.” He warbles.

“I know.”

But she can’t so he says it again.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You keep saying that.”

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

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

“No.”

“Then talk to me, Woo.”

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

“I don’t know where to start.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Since they opened.”

“Why?”

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

“I almost didn’t.”

“Why did you?”

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

“I had a whole speech prepared.”

“Really?” She smiles apprehensively.

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

“Then just tell me the truth, Woo.”

“I’m an idiot.”

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

And the space between them grows a little warmer.

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

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

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

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

“Please say something.”

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

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

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

Y/N

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

Four months later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about your fiance?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if I wanna keep my last name?”

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

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

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

“What were you saying?”

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

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

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

“Feel for yourself.”

“And if I call you my husband?”

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

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

[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 9 - Adult Education

IN THIS CHAPTER: A collection of mugs, a Latin-English dictionary, and Dottie has an epiphany [3.8k]

WARNINGS: none! it's my birthday so you get fluff today lol

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

So you got a little education And a lot of dedication But you want a little night school

Thursday, May 1st - 1986

Dottie wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but when Eddie walked into the library no earlier than fifteen minutes late into their shared Thursday free period, the paper he proudly slammed onto the table in front of her hadn’t been on her “Eddie Munson’s Shit Excuses For Arriving Late” list. As it turns out, he had taken the initiative to seek out his teachers to request a complete list of every assignment he owed and even negotiate with them partial credit for delivering them before their respective final exams.

“So it’s only 50% for these two no matter what, but in Latin it’s 75% if I get more than a C+ in the final,” he was explaining, the two of them sitting at a table near the back where it was less crowded.

“Okay… okay, we can totally work with this. This is great, Eddie,” she smiled up at him and he could have sworn her eyes shone brighter than the sun. “Now we just need to make a schedule, see how many items we need to knock off every day before finals week.”

She ripped out a page from her notebook and drew a calendar, writing down “May” in bright red marker at the top and filling in the squares with her favorite black pen. Eddie noticed she was making space for Hellfire, his band activities (both practice days and their regular gig at The Hideout), and had even logged May 15th, his birthday, as a day off. She was writing down her deadlines too, the page turning into a combined schedule for both of them right in front of his eyes. Her gesture felt oddly domestic, like she was making space for him in every aspect of her life, building a routine that was not only hers or his, but theirs. It made his insides all warm and gooey.

“I think I got most of it down, but we can shift things around if we need to. If we can do double time this first week so we can have a lighter load by the third week, that’d be ideal. I was thinking we could do Wednesdays at Gareth’s with everyone else, and then days of the week at yours and weekends after lunch at mine.”

“You wanna come over to my place?” he looked at her like she had grown two heads overnight.

“...Is that an issue?”

“Yes? No! I mean…,” he scratched behind his ear. “Darling, I live in a trailer park.”

“You’ve mentioned that before, yes.”

“And you’re not… freaked out?”

“Am I supposed to be?”

It was like a narrowed eyes and furrowed brows competition had unofficially begun at their table. Eddie could not understand how she didn’t care about the fact that she’d have to go to his trailer every single day to essentially supervise him while he did his homework. He was terrified of what she’d say if she saw the state of his home, the ever present mess he and his Uncle lived in, the fact that his room consistently smelled like weed and their bathroom had moisture stains on the ceiling. He wasn’t ashamed of who he was, he knew there wasn’t anything wrong with his living arrangements, but there was a part of him that felt too vulnerable to show her the side everyone loved to laugh at since middle school: words filled with venom like “trailer park trash” and jabs at the absence of his parents still fresh in his mind. He was terrified of showing her the Eddie he was when his guard wasn’t up at all times. Terrified she wouldn’t like the complete version of himself, all raw and weak and endlessly flawed.

Dottie, on the other hand, was confused as to why he thought she’d have a problem with him living in a trailer. She knew he’d had the Hellfire boys over at various points; one time Donny asked if he had seen his lighter around, thinking he might have left it behind in Eddie’s kitchen. Eddie brought it to school for him the next day, complaining about how he had had to crawl behind the fridge to retrieve it. His unusual reaction couldn’t about his Uncle, not when he had mentioned several times that Wayne Munson worked graveyard shifts and Eddie had dinner alone almost every day because his Uncle ate “way too fucking early” for him to join the older man, choosing to postpone his last meal of the day until after the sun had gone down. She didn’t know what she’d done to make him believe that she had an issue with anything that he was; it hurt her to think that he was afraid of her in any sense of the word.

“I just don’t want you to get in trouble with your Dad,” he said, grasping at straws. “He’s probably not gonna like it when you tell him you’re coming over every single day.”

“I already told him I’d help you out until graduation and he’s more than okay with it,” she leaned closer to him, dropping her voice to a murmur so other students couldn’t hear her. “He’s not afraid of your little Satanic act, dumbass, he knows you’re a nerd.”

“Yeah, but,” he wrung his hands under the table. “This is Hawkins. People will talk, y’know.”

“Eddie, people have to be really blind to not have noticed that we hang out all the time by now. We have lunch together every day. You drive me home when it rains,” Dottie grabbed one of his hands, holding it between hers on her lap. “I don’t care about stupid rumors, and I promise you my Dad doesn’t either. You’re one of my best friends, he’s not gonna come kick your teeth in because we’re reading Shakespeare in your trailer.”

“That’s too bad,” he said, trying to hide the inner turmoil he was feeling at her words. “I fucking hate Shakespeare.”

“If you talk shit about my fave bard again, I’m gonna be the one to kick your teeth in,” Dottie let go of his hand and immediately wanted to grab it again. “Now pick a subject and get started.” From the corner of his eye, Eddie watched her work on a set of notes titled Safety and Sanitation Procedures and Guidelines. As much as he wanted to stare at her all day (and draw on her notes to remind her constantly that he’d been there), he tore his sight away from her face and focused really hard on getting through as many Latin worksheets as he could for the remainder of his free period, putting to good use the dictionary that she fished out for him while she was waiting for him to show up. Dottie had to keep herself from lovingly sighing every time she caught him writing down a new word he had found interesting in the notebook he used to jot down his ideas for his latest D&D campaigns. It was so quintessentially Eddie that she wondered for a brief moment if she was going to be able to survive being stuck like velcro to him until finals week. Only time will tell, she thought dramatically, letting the six major workplace accidents detailed in her open textbook distract her from the boy sitting next to her.

The rest of the day had gone about as normal as any other Thursday, except for the fact that instead of taking the bus home with Gareth (who kept complaining about the fact that he still had to take Drivers Ed classes for a few more weeks), Dottie was getting into Eddie’s van to go pick up snacks for their first proper study session. To say that she was nervous was quite frankly the understatement of the century, but as soon as she clicked the very frayed seat belt on and he punched an Iron Maiden tape into the deck, she felt herself relax into the seat. Nothing had to change just because they were going to study alone in his trailer instead of doing it in Gareth’s living room surrounded by their friends. They had been alone multiple times by now; whenever he drove her home after dropping Gareth off first, while they waited for Dustin to arrive for Hellfire, that one time they’d gone to the Palace Arcade on a Saturday afternoon before a movie night with the rest of their friends in Jeff’s basement. Everything is gonna be okay, she realized, as she watched him heavily ponder on what kind of chips he wanted to buy at the gas station. He settled on a big bag of nacho cheese Doritos.

Once snacks had been acquired, they made their way towards the Forest Hills trailer park in relative silence, Eddie drumming on the steering wheel as he drove. When he parked, the music cut off as he killed the engine and he looked at his front door in mild panic. Dottie made a move to grab her backpack from the floor, unbuckling the seat belt, but he launched himself across her to stop her from opening the van door.

“Uh, Ed-”

“I forgot to tell my Uncle you were coming,” he said, his eyes wide.

“Can you- shit, just wait here for a second, okay? Let me go in first.”

“God, Eddie,” she laughed. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Look, darling, I don’t think you wanna see dear Uncle Wayne with no shirt on. Or no pants.”

“Good call,” she patted his arm, still caging her to the seat. “I’ll wait here then.”

He nodded, eyes drifting to her hand on top of his jacket sleeve and hurried to pull back and go inside, haphazardly carrying the bag of snacks, his metal lunchbox and backpack, shutting the door behind him with his foot. Dottie giggled, waiting patiently for him to give her the signal to go in. He’s so cute, she thought to herself in the privacy of his van. That was allowed, right? To think that one’s friends were cute, or nice, or pretty…

A few minutes later, Eddie emerged from the trailer, waving at her with a grin on his face. She jumped off her seat, careful to not slam the van door on her way out, and hiked her brown corduroy backpack up her shoulders. Ever the gentleman, Eddie offered a hand to help her climb the steps and bowed when she walked past him, making her roll her eyes at his antics. Soon enough, she was inside his trailer for the first time in her life, curiously looking around while he nervously watched her take in the sights.

“Sorry it’s such a mess, I wasn’t really expecting anyone to come over today,” he scratched the back of his neck.

“I’ve been in Jeff’s basement, this is more than okay,” Dottie reassured him, trying to make him feel less nervous. “I like the mugs!”

“Thanks, those are mine,” Wayne Munson came out of the bathroom, looking very unbothered by the fact that his nephew had yelled at him to get some jeans on before she saw him in his ratty boxers.

“Oh, hi! It’s lovely to finally meet you, Mr. Munson,” she smiled at the older man walking down the hall towards them. “I’m Dorothy.”

“You can call me Wayne, kid, I know who you are” the man laughed, stepping into the living area with a twinkle in his eyes. “Eddie talks about you all the time.”

“He does?” Dottie asked, feeling self conscious all of the sudden.

“Only good things, I promise,” Eddie said, hoping that he didn’t sound like a fucking lovestricken idiot. “Uh, Dot’s gonna be around a lot this month, so…”

“I’m helping Eddie with his homework so we can all graduate together. Hellfire Class of ‘86,” she explained. “I hope that’s not a bother, we can go to the library if you’d prefer.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’m never here anyways. Just glad to see Eddie has good friends.”

“Well, he’s a good friend to us too,” she said, looking at the boy who was now bright red standing next to her.

“We should- we should get started, right? So you can be home for dinner. D-d’you wanna go to my room? Or, uh, there’s a table outside too, I guess.”

“Do you have a desk in your room?”

“Yeah, but you really don’t wanna go in there,” he chuckled breathlessly. What’s happening to me?

“Okay, well, let’s sit outside before it gets colder then. We got snacks, Mr. Mun-” Dottie stopped herself and giggled when he raised his eyebrow. “Wayne. Sorry. We got snacks if you’d like some, Mr. Wayne.”

“That’s alright, kid, I had a late lunch. Thanks,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mirth at the nickname.

Wayne walked over to the couch where he had been sitting before Eddie had disturbed his peace and sat back down with his coffee mug in hand, focusing on the small TV in front of him. Wordlessly, Eddie began grabbing snacks out of the gas station bag and shoving them into Dottie’s hands, hurrying her towards the exit. Having a very amusing conversation solely with their eyes, she could hardly contain her chuckles once he started pushing her with his hands on the small of her back, his Uncle pretending not to notice that his nephew was looking like a lovesick puppy around this clean cut girl to preserve his dignity. He would have never guessed this turn of events having seen the kind of magazines Eddie had hidden underneath his bed throughout his adolescence.

Finally, they sat at a shaded picnic table and got to work. Dottie busied herself with her AP Spanish homework she had been neglecting for a week and was due the next day, and Eddie continued working steadily through the Latin worksheets he had started earlier in the library. She’d had the foresight to check out the dictionary for him and he was endlessly grateful because he would have actually bashed his head on the side of his trailer without it.

“I like your Uncle,” Dottie said, not looking up from her folder. “He seems nice.”

“He is,” Eddie marked an answer in his multiple choice sheet. “He’s kind of the only family I have left so…”

“I’m glad you have him,” she smiled. “And his cool mugs.”

“What’s it with you and my Uncle’s mugs?”

“I like people that collect weird things, I think it’s fun. And also mugs are the superior liquid container.”

“Mugs? Seriously?”

“Yeah. Everything tastes better in a mug.”

“Sure. Fuck glasses,” he teased.

“Fuck glasses,” she concluded, grabbing a highlighter from her pencil case.

They worked in companionable silence, Eddie only disturbing the quiet to read out loud random words he found in the dictionary and thought were funny. He cataloged her reactions to them; some words made a little chuckle escape from her lips, for others she’d just roll her eyes at him. His favorite, by far, was when he got her to snort loudly as he explained that vagina meant “sheath” in Latin. (“You wish,” she’d said, and he had had to hide his growing blush in the pages of his notebook.) The sun was setting later and later these days, so when Wayne popped his head out of the door and asked them if they wanted to join him for dinner, it came as a complete surprise that they had been doing homework for almost three full hours without taking any breaks.

“I’d love to stay, but I should get home before it gets dark or my Dad will worry,” Dottie said, smiling at the older man. “Maybe some other time?”

“Sure, door’s always open for ya,” he smiled back. He had been listening to their conversations on and off all afternoon through an open window and was pleased to know that she could hold her own against her nephew when he became restless.

“I’ll hold you to that then,” she turned to Eddie when his Uncle disappeared inside the trailer again. “Let’s check off what we did today and you’re free until tomorrow after Hellfire, okay?”

“Y’know, I was thinking…”

“Uh-oh,” she said while crossing out items from their shared To-Do List. “That’s not good.”

“Would you let me finish, woman?” he said, faking his anger. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to get pizza before we hit the books tomorrow. My treat. I’m always really hungry after Hellfire and you know I can’t think for shit when I’m hungry.”

“Pizza sounds great,” she zipped up her backpack. “Though I’m not sure we’ll get a lot done with everyone around but we can catch up over the weekend.”

“What d’you mean “everyone”?” Eddie was confused.

“Hellfire. Hellfire is everyone. Or did you mean just us seniors?”

“I meant us. As in only me and you.”

“Oh.”

Dottie looked at him for a beat, trying to gauge how serious he was from his expression. He looked sincere, perhaps even a little bit shy about having to clarify what he had meant. Friends totally went out together for pizza, right? It was completely normal behavior for two buddies to get food before a study session, wasn’t it? He’s not asking you out, girl, calm down, her brain supplied in order to get her thoughts in line before she embarrassed herself. Wasting a few more seconds by gathering her things and getting up from the bench, she schooled her expression into a calm smile and tilted her head nonchalantly.

“Well, the guys are not gonna like us ditching them, but I’m never gonna say no to pizza.”

“Great!” he pushed himself up and guided her to his van to take her home. “I’ll get started on those Biology flashcards tomorrow after getting some cheese in me, I promise.”

James knew something was different the moment Dottie sat down at the table after her shower, hair wet and fluffy pink pajamas on. She looked deep in thought, like she was struggling with internalizing a new concept, not even glancing at her father sitting across from her while she piled mashed potatoes on their plates. The radio was playing in the background, some Bryan Adams song she had never bothered learning the name of filling the room and providing a much needed distraction from the anxious butterflies flying around in her stomach. He waited patiently until she was halfway done with her plate before trying to bring his daughter back to the Land of the Talking.

“You okay there, honey?”

“Huh?” she looked up at him, eyes bleary. “Yeah… yeah, jus’ tired.”

“Too much studying?” James asked, trying to sound casual.

“A bit. Met Eddie’s uncle today.”

“Was he nice?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, pushing a meatball around her plate with her fork. “He invited me over for dinner sometime. He collects mugs. And hats.”

“Hats?”

“Like baseball caps. I like him. He’s quirky.”

“Seems like it. You’re gonna go over there tomorrow too?”

“Yeah. Actually, I…,” she readjusted herself in her seat. “Is it okay if I come home late tomorrow? We have Hellfire after school, and Eddie wants to get pizza before going back to his house so we’re probably gonna wrap up at, like, an ungodly hour.”

“How late are we talking about here?”

“Dunno, but you don’t have to pick me up. Eddie can bring me home when we’re done.”

“You’re still doing weekends here, right?” James got up and started clearing the table, Dottie following him into the kitchen.

“That’s the plan, yes. Weekdays at his, weekends here, Wednesdays at Gareth’s.”

“Okay. Just… make smart choices.”

“Jeez, Dad,” she closed the fridge door with her foot. “We’re just studying, it’s not like we’re… planning a heist or something.”

“Look, honey, I trust you, okay? But I’m the father of a teenage daughter whose entire friend group is teenage boys. And I was a teenage boy once too. I know what’s going on in their gross little minds, and it’s definitely not studying.”

“Ew! Don’t say that about my friends!”

Dottie leaned on the counter watching her dad rinse the dishes, the radio now playing Lionel Ritchie’s Say You, Say Me. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand what he meant, but she honestly, hand on her heart, didn’t think he had anything to worry about. It was normal that he was concerned, and they both knew he would never forbid his daughter from seeing her friends even if they were all boys and she was the only girl in their tight-knit group, but there was a small part of Dottie’s brain that felt strange knowing that he didn’t fully trust the intentions of the people that made Hawkins bearable for her. She feared that eventually the rumor mill would become too loud, and her dear dad would fall prey to the same kind of judgy attitudes that seemed to plague the small town when it came to her friends. About Eddie in particular, who had done nothing wrong to deserve such hatred from strangers except carry the Munson name.

“Dad?” she gnawed on her lower lip, nervously.

“Mhm?”

“I know that you’re thinking “boys will be boys” and all that, but… They are all good people. Eddie is good people. You know that, right?”

“I know,” he sighed, turning off the water and looking at her. “But I’m still gonna worry. He’s older than you, bit of a rebel, in a band. Has a bunch of tattoos and smokes. He’s every dad’s worst nightmare.”

“You do remember that two of his best friends are 15 year olds, right? He’s a harmless nerd.”

“Why do you think I still let you go to his house unsupervised?” he joked, going back to the dishes. “Just make good choices and we won’t have to talk about your boyfriend again, m’kay?”

“Oh my god, you’re the worst,” Dottie shook her head as she left the kitchen, leaving him alone while he cackled to himself at his daughter’s discomfort. It occurred to her, once she was comfortable in her own bed about to turn her lights off, a copy of her and Eddie’s shared schedule pinned to her corkboard above her college acceptance letter, that she had never corrected her dad when he called him her boyfriend or even denied having a crush on him. Oh, he’s never gonna let me live that one down, she thought to herself. She clicked her bedside lamp off and turned around so she wouldn’t see her desk, fully intending on denying the accusations to anyone who asked, even to herself if she needed to, when her eyes found her new Hellfire shirt draped on the seat under the window with the rest of the clothes she had laid out to wear the next day. Fuck. I have a crush on Eddie Munson, was her last thought before she drifted off into a peaceful slumber, nacho cheese Doritos, puns with Latin words and the smell of Camel cigarettes mixed with cheap woodsy cologne making their way into her dreams.

taglist (ask box is open if you want me to add you!): @munsonology

[sweetsweetloverlover]

on the one h1nd i have no way to tell how i would react & what i would do in a life threatening emergency kinda situation but on the other hand i know that the two times in my life where i temporarily (like only about a minute or less) went blind i reacted really well and did not panic despite feeling like i was gonna pass out both times so. idk maybe ill save the world someday like

[bennywe1r]

Request:I was wondering if you can do a Benny weir x reader where Benny shows her who she belongs too bc Jesse starts to flirt with her if that’s ok with you but if not then that’s alright!😊 love the writing by the way

Yes I've been inactive for a long time. No we aren't gonna talk about it.

Benny Weir x Reader

Warnings: some swearing here and there

Summer has finally come to an end. Time to go back to your favoirte yet least favorite place. White Chapel High. You loved your friends and kinda had fun fighting all the crazy supernatural shit that came around but at the same time it was school. How great could it be. Hopefully this year would be better since you and Benny started dating. Orientation started a few days ago but you weren't a freshman so you didn't have to go. Ugh. Just thinking about the annoying freshman crowding the halls made you already want death.

You arrived early to school sine you were so excited to see Benny but you were a little too early. There was actually nobody there yet.

7:25 and the doors finnally opened so you could hang out inside at least. It was a bit chilly this morning and you left your jacket at home. Other people finally showed up so you felt a little less awkward now.

You stopped by your locker to drop off your lunch when some guy started hitting on you.

"Hey good lookin" you could practically hear his smirk

"Uhm, can I help you?" You quickly responded already feeling uncomfortable

"Well if you truly want to help, youll give me your number" he closed your locker gently

You laughed and literally walked away.

You'd hoped he wouldn't follow, but he did.

"Um pardon me but I asked for your number" he sounded demanding.

You stopped in the middle of the hallway, turned around and said "fuck off would ya" and continued walking. This time he didn't follow.

1st period rolls around and of course you have a class with the jerk who bugged you all morning luckily Benny was also in that class

The teacher assigned partners for this project and you manifested Benny as your partner so hard yet the universe worked against you.

"Y/N and Jesse" she said, mispronouncing your name.

"fuck" you think to yourself

You stood up to go sit with your partner when he interrupted you

"ah allow me" he smirked

You rolled your eyes and sat back down, looking at Benny for reassurance, who frowned at you when he got partnered with some jock

Jesse sat himself next to you putting his arm on your chair, you sit forward and try to ignore him, basically doing the project alone, you frequently looked up at Benny hoping he'd notice your inconvenience.

When he did finally look up he almost jumped out of his seat, but decided against it to not cause a scene, and also not get his ass kicked by Jesse.

Jesse once again started prying at you for your number, completely ignoring your disinterest

"so you must not have heard me earlier" he spoke "I don't enjoy being ignored" he sounded more threatening now.

Benny heard this and decided to intervene despite the teacher scolding him to sit down. He walked over to you and crouched down to grab something from your bag.

"Hey honeybun just need my chapstick, are we still going to burger bar for lunch?"

You immediately played into the sudden lunch plans

"yeah I just gotta be back by 1 for my extra credit in photography" you said making it as believable as possible.

Benny stood up slow, put a hand on your cheek and shared a short yet passionate kiss with you, making eye contact with Jesse after, his glare alone could kill a man.

The teacher scolded Benny once more to get back to work and stop distracting other students, Benny shot her a look as well.

Jesse scoffed and worked silently til the end of the class, the bell rang and the teacher asked Benny to stay late. Great just what you needed.

You took as long as possible to leave class, waiting for Jesse to be out of sight, however your teacher wasn't starting conversation with your boyfriend while you were there so you still had to leave.

You reluctantly step into the hallway expecting to see Jesse at the corner, but you were pleasantly surprised when he wasn't there. Your teachers voice faded as you walked down the hall towards your next class. You don't have your next class with Benny so you'll probably just text him about whatever Mrs. Fletcher said to him.

You get to your next class and we're relieved to see no Jesse and a familiar Rory in the corner. You quickly claimed your seat next to him as he excitedly started rambling about something you've already lost track of.

About 15 minutes into class another student walked in late.

"fucksake" you mumble

"what did I do now?" Rory panicked

"Not you Rory, for once"

Jesse walked in smirking at you. He dropped some paper by your desk, you didn't even bother to look twice at it

"Sorry Im late, last minute schedule change, realized I liked photography more than theater" you could feel his devilish smile with every word.

Photography is now a class you'll be ditching.

Lunch time rolled around and you were on your way to Benny's car when Jesse stopped you, only now he's not asking.

"listen princess I know you think you're too good for me or something by pretending to date that nerd, I'll admit even this kiss was a little convincing, I just don-"

You cut him off

"pretending???" You began laughing at him "you're just upset that I can see actual value in a person"

Oh he's pissed now. Jesse pushed you into Benny's car.

"the only value that boy has is as a meal" he flashed his teeth

Benny came out of nowhere and actually punched Jesse in the face.

"that's my fucking girlfriend you leech" he shouted

To say you were shocked is an understatement. Seeing Benny this angry was so new, and in all honesty quite attractive since he's fighting for you.

"get in the car" he says softly to you as he opens the door for you.

Jesse got up and was ready to attack but Sarah got there in time to have a dramatic standoff with him while Benny got on the driverside.

You watched Jesse storm off in the rear view mirror as Benny angrily drove off.

"love, are you okay?" Benny said with full concern, "are you hurt at all?"

You smiled softly at him "my head hurts a bit, I may have dented your car"

He opened his glove box that has random stuff like napkins, ketchup packets and ibuprofen in it, he handed you 2 for your headache.

"wanna go home and watch movies?" He asked

"but my extra credit" you said sadly

"come on we deserve this, And you're technically hurt so I should be taking care of you" he grabbed your hand and rubbed it softly.

"Benny Weir you are a bad influence" you said laughing "but I get to pick the movie"

"deal!" He shouted in excitment

Ok so I got a little off track I just kinda kept rolling because I didn't want it to be too short. I hope you enjoy and once again. Apologies for starving you all 😭

[kythed]

“you can hear it in the silence” - a collection of conversations between you and futakuchi kenji. 

1. april 14th, 7:56pm.

“it’s terribly boring, isn’t it?” the voice comes from right near your ear. you start, turning to see a young guy dressed in jeans, a tee, and a baseball cap, slouchy and messy in the most attractive and purposeful way. “the movie, I mean.”

you turn your eyes back towards the screen — some spanish neo-noir retelling of the same old “sexpot femme fatale turned domestic by a dashing hero with a horse” plotline. “yeah, it is. I only came so my film major friends would finally respect me.”

“that’s valid,” he whispers with a snort. an older man sitting beside him shushes him. “I only came so I could make fun of the people who only came to impress their film major friends.”

“oh, ouch,” you say, grinning. “way to attack like 90% of the foreign film audience.” 

“I’d say it’s something more like 97%, actually,” he says, briefly glancing at the movie. the dark haired, sultry love interest is batting her lashes at the brooding protagonist, nightgown slipping off her shoulder. “the remaining 3% is horny teenagers who can’t yet figure out how to erase their search history.” 

despite being in the middle of a crowded theater, you laugh, giggle echoing off the walls. several people turn around to shoot you dirty looks, and you immediately clap an apologetic over your mouth. oops.

“I’m kenji futakuchi,” your seat-neighbor whispers, extending a hand. “unprofessional film critic, engineering major, and thai tea hater. I’m willing to take you out for boba on our first date, but if you order thai tea it will also be our last.” 

“bold of you to assume we’ll even have a first date,” you say, shaking his hand with another quiet laugh. 

“oh, we will,” he says with what can only be described as a bona fide smirk. “I saw the way you were looking at me earlier.” 

before you can respond, the curmudgeonly old man beside kenji leans over and scowls. “if you kids want to keep flirting, do so outside. some of us are here for cultural enrichment.” 

kenji glances at you, face spelling out mischief. “you heard the man. shall we?” 

for a moment, you consider saying no. but then reason kicks into gear and you stand up, dusting popcorn off your lap. “we shall.” 

(discovery number one: your hand fits perfectly in his.)

2. may 2nd, 11:17am. 

“you know, this actually isn’t so bad.” kenji takes another cautious sip. “still can’t hold a candle to jasmine.”

“I respect that,” you say, offering him a taste of your drink. “I feel like everyone who hates thai tea is just jumping on the bandwagon. it’s pretty decent.”

“you’re pretty decent,” he says petulantly, snatching your tea and replacing it with his own. 

you roll your eyes. “your comebacks suck. still can’t believe I agreed to go out with you.” 

kenji feigns a look of surprise. “oh, are we going out? I thought this was a platonic thing.” 

you send a pointed look at his hand resting on your thigh, his thumb rubbing light circles in your skin. 

kenji follows your gaze and suppresses a smile, shrugging. “friends do that.” 

it’s a cool spring day, the air smelling of his cologne — vanilla, coffee, and burnt orange — and the eucalyptus growing in front of the cafe. the sunshine is fresh and pale, casting a glowy halo over kenji’s brunette mess of hair. he smiles rather angelically, as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking. 

“and do friends do this?” you say softly, leaning forward so your nose is just centimeters from his. 

kenji gulps, adam’s apple bobbing painfully in his throat. his voice cracks with his next words. “y-yeah. I do this with my buddies all the time. no homo.” 

you slowly bring your hand up to cup his jaw, letting your eyes linger on his lips before glancing back up and smiling. “oh, good. ‘cause I do this with my girls all the time, too. full homo.” 

“yeah?”

“mhm,” you purr, trying to channel some of that femme fatale energy, leaning even closer so you can feel his warm breath on your mouth — and then you pull away with a cackle, leaving kenji blinking down at you with reproach.

“women are so cruel,” he sighs wistfully, fanning his shirt and running a hand through his hair. 

“sorry,” you chirp, not sorry at all. “I don’t kiss on the first date.” 

“you don’t kiss on the first date?” kenji repeats. “so what’s the timeline — we hold hands today, and then you let me hug you next week, and then we kiss in a month, and then in like fifty years we finally fu—” 

“kenji!” you say, whipping around. you’re scandalized. there’s a family with primary school aged kids sitting at the other table, shrieking with laughter and bouncing around like pinballs on a boba-fueled sugar high. “keep it PG.” 

“I wasn’t gonna say anything bad,” kenji complains. “I was just gonna say that in fifty years we finally, uh… furbish the condo we purchase together.” 

“sure you were,” you say, and kenji just laughs. there’s something in the way he looks at you… something soft and affectionate that makes you think he might actually intend to stick around for fifty years. it scares you a little — but in a good way. 

later that day, when kenji drops you off at your front porch, you lean forward again. usually you keep your word, but today’s an exception. 

(discovery number two: he tastes like colgate and thai tea.)

3. august 21st, 8:02am. 

“what the hell,” you cough, squinting through the smoke. you can barely hear yourself over the shrill beeping of the fire alarm resounding around your apartment. “kenji?”

kenji emerges from behind the fridge, nonchalantly leaning on the wall with a nervous smile. “hey, baby. sleep well?”

“don’t you ‘hey, baby’ me, mister,” you say, marching forward, fanning the smoke away with your oversized sleep shirt. (well, technically it’s his shirt, and that’s why it’s oversized. it fits perfectly fine on him.) “what in the world did you do?” 

“why is it that when something goes wrong you always automatically blame me?” he complains, coughing. 

“because it’s always your fault,” you say, gently but firmly pushing him aside to reveal, sitting innocently on the counter… a smoking toaster with two pieces of bread (burnt nearly completely black) resting in the slots. oh lord. “kenji. babe. darling.”

“ooh, keep going, please,” kenji coos, yelping when you lightly pinch his elbow. “hey!” 

he’s about to retaliate before you double over in laughter, holding onto the edge of the kitchen counter for support. you choke out giggles between breaths, hardly able to keep balance. “you — (wheeze) — you nearly burnt down the kitchen — (wheeze) — trying to make toast?” 

“it’s not as easy as it looks,” kenji insists, gingerly picking the slices of bread (although they’re more like crackers now) out from the toaster. “I’m sorry that I wanted to do something nice for my beautiful girlfriend. and I’m sorry that the only thing I could handle was toast and coffee. well, technically just coffee, I guess.” 

he picks up a mug from the counter and offers it to you. “it might be kinda cold now. sorry. I tried.”

he’s so earnest and adorable and lovely in that moment — standing in the middle of the clouded kitchen in just mismatched socks and an old pair of boxers, holding the coffee out for you to see — that you can hardly contain yourself. 

“god, I love you,” you say without thinking, the last word catching in your throat as you look up. oh. oops. kenji’s staring at you, unblinking, big brown eyes filled with… surprise? “I mean, I meant —”

“you love me?” 

“I, uh,” you falter. this isn’t you; you’re supposed to be the calm and collected one. “this isn’t how I wanted to say it, but—”

“but you do, right? you love me?” kenji sets the mug back down and pulls you in by the waist, grinning broadly and resting his forehead against yours. your heart is pulsing erratically, but a smile big enough to match his somehow finds its way onto your face. you nod, and kenji immediately kisses you hard, tangling his fingers in the back of your hair. 

“I love you,” he says breathlessly after finally parting. you feel the uncomfortable warmth of your face and the swollenness of your lips... but you can’t quite bring yourself to care. “I love you a lot.” 

“you love me so much that you even tried to make me toast,” you laugh. “and you brought me cold coffee in my second favorite mug.” 

“no, wait,” says kenji, glancing back towards said mug. “that’s your favorite mug.”

“no, my favorite is the green one with the—”

“—with the orange flowers,” kenji groans in realization, slapping a limp, penitent hand to his cheek. “I’m a failure of a boyfriend. I deserve to go to boyfriend jail.” 

“you do,” you agree, nodding solemnly. “but lucky for you, I have a get-out-of-jail-free card right here.”

“oh?” says kenji, a devilish smile quirking up the corners of his lips. 

you hum and offer him your clenched fist, like you’re about to place something in his palm. but when he extends his own outstretched hand, you interlace your fingers with his instead. “yep. right here.” 

“you think you’re so clever,” kenji sighs, nonetheless bringing your hand up to press a brief kiss to your knuckles. 

“I do.” you shuffle towards the counter to take a sip of the coffee — sure enough, it’s cold. (but he still made it exactly the way you like it.) “c’mon. breakfast.” 

(discovery number three: burnt toast doesn’t taste so bad when you eat it with someone you love.)

4. november 1st, 10:38pm.

the commute across town from your university to your apartment is on the longer side, around forty minutes. it feels even longer late at night, though, on your way home from your part time job. 

the subway rattles on its tracks as it slows to rest at a stop (but not yours) and a handful of sleepy passengers stumble out, swinging briefcases and pulling their scarves a little tighter. you stifle a yawn, slumping back into your seat. 

“you okay?” 

you smile. ever since you got hired a couple months ago, kenji’s insisted on coming to “pick you up” from work to take the train back with you, even though he works all the way across town. (he’ll probably stay the night — he has a drawer full of his things at your place these days, complete with a dozen wrinkled t-shirts, old soccer shorts, and a bundle of irreparably tangled chargers. he hasn’t bothered to bring his own shampoo over yet, though, claiming that “yours smells so nice and fruity” and “men’s shampoo just smells like nondescript testosterone and insecurity.” he’s right of course, but all the same, you’d rather he not use up all of yours.) 

“yeah, I’m okay,” you sigh, taking his hand and feeling him begin to rub circles on your palm. you close your eyes. “just tired.” 

“hi ‘okay-just-tired,’ I’m dad,” kenji says slyly, and you open one incredulous eye. 

“did you really…?”

“I really did,” kenji says, puffing up his chest. “you walked right into it.” 

you groan and fall on top of him dramatically, burying your face in his thick fleece jacket. “I’m too dead for this. I’m like frankenstein before he was reanimated — just a bunch of limbs and organs in a useless, fleshy pile.”

“technically, he’s frankenstein’s monster,” says kenji, petting your hair absentmindedly. “frankenstein’s the name of the doctor. cute literary allusion, though.” 

“do you ever shut up?” your voice comes out muffled by kenji’s coat, but not at all devoid of its intended irritation. 

“occasionally,” he says as you lift your head. he pulls you closer with one arm until you’re practically sharing a seat, legs interlocked, your temple resting on his shoulder and his chin nestled in your hair. “when I’m sleeping. when I’m eating — well, sometimes. sometimes I talk with my mouth full.”

“yeah, I’ve borne witness to that,” you say, wrinkling your nose. you’ve tried to improve kenji’s table manners countless times (especially in light of your family’s thanksgiving dinner soon approaching), but it’s all been in vain. most likely because he enjoys seeing you get worked up about his not using a coaster, etc. “disgusting.”  

“when I’m concentrating on physics,” he continues, as if he hadn’t heard you. “when I’m in the library. when I’m kissing pretty girls.” 

he bends down and tries to give you a peck, but you gasp and dodge it. “girls? plural? you’re out here kissing pretty girls other than me?”

“when I’m kissing one specific pretty girl,” kenji corrects himself, grinning. 

you feel your own grin stretch across your face. “and which pretty girl is that?”

“my pretty girl,” he says smugly, looking incredibly pleased with himself. 

you scoff. “corny.” 

“you like it.” 

you chew on your inner cheek, trying and failing to suppress your smile. “you know I do.” 

the train’s speakers crackle alive, a cool automated voice emanating from their unseen perches: “approaching hiwamari station. projected arrival in: 1 minute.” 

“alright, time to wake up, sleeping beauty,” kenji huffs, lugging you onto your feet. you hang limp in his arms like a rag doll, unwilling to bear your own weight. “you are perfectly capable of standing. shape up before I alert the authorities, you hooligan.” 

“hmm,” you groan, finally arighting yourself with some difficulty. you want to ask where in the world he learned the word ‘hooligan,’ but your brain can hardly afford you even the most basic cognition right now. “it’s too late, and my knees hurt, and I’m tired, and I saw an ad for that new vietnamese place at the last station, and now I want banh mi. but I can’t have banh mi because there’s none on this side of town, and that irritates me.” you take a deep breath. “also, I’m cold.” 

kenji laughs and slips a loose arm around your waist as the doors slide open, gently guiding you down onto the platform. the night air bites at your skin, painting goosebumps in its wake. you’re about ready to just sit down on the ground and curl into a frustrated, exhausted ball when he crouches down, fingers straightening and smoothing the lapels of your coat. “well, I can’t really help with the sore knees and the hankering for banh mi part, but I’m pretty sure you’re cold because you’ve had your buttons undone this entire time. dummy.” 

he buttons your jacket quickly and deftly, careful to avoid pinching you in the process. a particular kind of warmth bubbles up in your chest at his concentrated expression — kenji likes to maintain his effortless, reckless reputation, but when it comes down to the bare bones of it all, he’s still the type of guy who’ll button his girlfriend’s coat for her. on the walk from the subway to your apartment, his arm doesn’t leave your body once, keeping you close to his side and shielded from the wind. 

“I’m not a dummy.”

“sure, dummy.”

(discovery number four: body heat — specifically, kenji futakuchi’s body heat — is by far the most effective way to stay warm.)

5. december 23rd, 12:01pm. 

“who’s your best friend?” the question pops into your mind and out of your mouth almost instantaneously. kenji, who’s lounging on the sofa next to you, turns, eyebrows furrowed. there’s a small douglas fir in the corner of the room, minimally decked with what ornaments you could “diy” from around the house: snowflakes made of sticky notes, bedazzled plastic utensils, etc. several small packages have been haphazardly tossed around the tree’s base, yours neatly wrapped in red tissue paper and string, kenji’s covered in newspaper and excessive scotch tape. (he tried. maybe not his best, but he tried.) 

“depends,” he says, turning off his phone and tossing it onto the carpet. “what’s your definition of best friend?” 

“you know,” you say, helplessly splaying your fingers. “monica and rachel. frodo and sam. taylor swift and karlie kloss.” 

“hold on,” kenji says, holding up a hand. “didn’t taylor swift and karlie kloss have a falling out?” 

“yeah, but for the sake of the argument,” you insist. you narrow your eyes. “wait. how do you know about that?” 

“you talk about it every time you listen to that one album, which is at least once a month,” kenji says with a grin. “probably more like twice, actually.”

“oh.” you flush, making a mental note to use earbuds more often. “anyways. answer the question.”

“wait, but you just gave me a bunch of examples,” kenji complains. he glances briefly out the window, which is iced over like a sugar cookie, obscuring the snowscape outside. mariah plays faintly in the background, jingling and whistle tones echoing through the halls. “you didn’t define anything.” 

“a best friend,” you begin, faltering and taking a moment to think. a best friend… what is a best friend, really? you frown for a moment before smiling brightly. “a best friend is a commitment. it’s when you commit to being there for somebody when they need you. and it’s when you commit to finding that person when you need them, too.” 

kenji lets out a low whistle. “okay then, socrates.”

“it wasn’t that deep,” you say with a laugh. “so. who’s yours?”

kenji grins boyishly, face lighting up like a christmas tree topper. “easy. you’re my best friend.” 

oh. you weren’t expecting that. your chest gives an involuntary little thump of pleasure. “me? what about kamasaki?”

“mmm,” kenji muses, counting on his fingers. “he’s, like, my fourth best friend. maybe third on a good day. but you’re the one I go to first.” 

you have the sudden urge to wrap your limbs around him like a koala and never let go; only your dignity keeps you from tackling him right then and there. you clear your throat, praying he can’t hear your thoughts — he’d never let you live it down. “you’re mine, too.” 

kenji doesn’t respond, just smiles and rolls off the couch onto the floor with a thud, spreading out on the carpet like a seastar. the silence doesn’t bother you, though — silence (what little you can get of it) is comfortable with you two. plus, it’s never really silent. there’s always something there, something very undefinable but very real. 

(discovery number five: you are in love.)

[robynochs]

Now for the main reason I was on the JetBlue flight I wrote about a couple of days ago: On June 15th, I was an invited guest at an LGBT Pride Reception at the White House. What a day! All attendees were COVID tested on site & so I decided to go maskless in a crowd for the 1st time in 27 months. What a pleasure to see some familiar faces. It made me realize how much I've missed face-to-face conversations with my movement colleagues.   Joe & Jill Biden were there (both spoke) & the VP & “2nd gentleman." The other speaker was Javier Gomez, a freshly-minted high school graduate who spoke of his experience growing up and coming out in Miami. @POTUS then signed an executive order focused on protecting LGBTQ+ youth and elders.

[second slide photos - top left; my dear friend Diego Sanchez from PFLAG and Sarah McBride, Delaware legislator, middle left; with Arizona legislator Daniel Hernanez, middle right; with Scout, bottom left; Includes Rachel Levine, US Asst Secretary for Health, and Rich Ferraro from GLAAD (who I worked with to get Merriam Webster to change its definition of “bisexual”), top right;  A lovely conversation with Marie Pinkney, a member of the Delaware legislature (and a REALLY nice person!) bottom right; with Jansen Wu, Executive Director of GLAD. (I don’t remember the other person’s name — they are ED of another org.)] A sweet moment: someone who works at the WH saw my bi pride pin, and said, "I love your pin!” I had brought a few extras in my bag, so I took one out and gifted it to him. He was obviously delighted — I could see his huge smile even under his mask. #BiPride, y’all!  We really ARE everywhere.

There were some folks at the White House who identify as bi+. Next year I hope there will be more. We are, after all, the largest identity group under the #LGBTQ+ umbrella. Amit Paley, ED of the Trevor Project (@TrevorProject) and I ended up seated next to each other on the flight back to Boston. This was our first time meeting in person and we talked the entire trip home! What a perfect and grounding way to end such an intense and surreal day.

[fiveisnumber1]

A Villain In The Making - A Timeless Side Piece

For most people today was just a normal Saturday afternoon. They walked about the city, they ran their errands, they just existed. You on the other hand, you sat around in your room anxiously waiting for your friends to return. The academy kids had left a few days ago to go fight some crazy scientist in France named Gustave Eiffel and Sir Reginald even took Vanya with them this time leaving you to yourself. You could recall the day they had left since it was only a few days ago. You were peacefully playing a game of chess with Five when the sound of an alarm started to blare.

“Ugh, another mission?” Five questioned annoyed

This would be the third one in a row that he and his siblings had in the last week. He was getting tired of having to up and leave all the time especially since he only got to see you once you were finished with school during the week. And even then he now had to split his time with you with his six other siblings. This was awful. You saw the disappointed and annoyed look on Five’s face and knew that he didn’t want to go.

“I'm sorry this keeps happening.” 

“This is the third time our chess game has been interrupted by some mission.” Five complained

“Maybe we should try playing checkers next time?” You jokingly suggested

You could see as a smirk start to form upon Five’s face as he replied,

“I don’t think chess is the cause for all these missions.”

“You never know!” You remarked

“There is a chance, however slim, that it might be the cause. That does not change the fact that I don’t want to go.” Five retorted

You opened your mouth about to try and comfort your friend but from down the hall you heard the loud shouts of Sir Reginald demanding his children’s presence. Both you and Five looked in the direction of his voice as he shouted,

“Do you not hear the alarm? Our mission is in Paris children, we must leave at once!”

You and Five looked back at each other, both with wide eyes as you processed what he had just said.

“You’re going all the way to Paris?” You stated aloud “I guess you’re going to be gone for a bit then, huh?”

Five felt his stomach drop. You were right, he was going to be gone for a bit. He didn’t want to leave you here though. He didn’t want to leave you at all. Without really thinking Five took your hands in his and suggested,

“You should come with me- with us.”

“Five as much as I would love to take a trip to Paris in the middle of the school year I cannot.” You explain

“Why not?” He asked

“I hate to be the person to remind you of this but my parents care for me and would think I’m kidnapped, Five.” You explain

“Shit, you’re right.” Five said as he pull his hands from you and began to pace back and forth

“Hey, if it will make you feel better maybe you can do something touristy for me while you’re there.”

“Like what?” he inquires, stopping his pacing

“I don’t know, look for people who you think are like us and then do whatever it looks like those other people are doing.” You elaborate 

“Children your lack of urgency is putting the world in danger!” Reginald shouts once more

You and Five look at each other once more realizing that he needed to go. It wasn’t fun but it was just something the both of you had to deal with given the differences in your upbringing. He was raised to be a “hero” and would have to leave to fight on behalf of the world and you were just some kid who lived across the street and still needed to finished her advanced algebra homework. Letting out sigh you quickly wrapped your friend in a tight hug which he reciprocated. As you held each other you could hear the sounds of his siblings starting to run downstairs and knew it was time for him to go. Parting ways you looked at your friend one more time and encouraged,

“Go kick some ass with your siblings. I’ll be waiting here for you when you get back.”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Five replies, giving you a smile

And with that you watched as he flashed away. You turned back towards the chessboard that you had been playing at with Five only moments ago and sat down in your chair. As you were about to start putting the pieces back in their original spots a voice called out from behind you and asked,

“May I finish this game with you?”

Turning to look at the voice you smiled and said,

“Sure Pogo.”

As Pogo took a seat across from you, he mentioned,

“Just because the children aren’t around does not mean you’re not welcome here Miss (Y/N). This might not be your home but I hope it’s a place where you feel like you can belong.”

“Thank you.”

As you came back into focus you heard the sounds of many people chattering. Looking outside your bedroom window you could see as a crowd started to gather behind barricades across the street at the academy with signs in hand. Dozens of fans of the Umbrella Academy were stood outside the manor to wait and watch for the arrival of their favorite super powered kids. You however were just waiting for you friends to get back so you all could hang out again. Wanting to get out of your room and curious as to what all the fuss looked like in person you decided on heading over to the academy as well.  Walking downstairs you called out to your parents,

“I’m going to go meet up with some friends!”

“Alright, sweetie but be back by 8:30 for dinner and remember the third rule!” Your mom called back

“Uh yeah...I will!” You replied as you quickly hurried out the door rushing over to the academy before you could get caught

Carefully you made your way through the crowd and towards the front of the barricade closest to the house. You looked around at all the people who knew nothing of the reality that your friends were going through. It was crazy what a different world they lived in. As you stood behind the barricade waiting like everyone else for the umbrella academy to show up you felt someone push around you. Looking to the right you saw a kid about your age placing a suitcase down on the ground. He looked around frantically as if trying to find something and you could see that he was dressed up in an academy uniform. Not a good one though. It looked like all the materials were constructed out of tape and paper. You attempted to look away from the weird kid before he noticed but it was too late, you had caught his gaze. Trying to not be weird you quickly commented,

“Uh...hi.”

“Hi! I’m Harold.” He says extending his hand

There was something off about this kid but you couldn’t place it.

“...(Y/N),” You replied slowly shaking it “Nice costume.”

“Oh thanks! I made it myself.” He exclaims

“I can see that.” You comment unimpressed

He must’ve noticed your tone because he followed up with,

“I’ll get a better one soon though!”

You were actually a bit impressed by that. The Umbrella Academy uniforms were custom made so to have an accurate replica created would cost a lot of money.

“Your parents must really love you to pay for a custom made uniform.” You say surprised

The kid looked off to the side for a bit after you had mentioned his parents but when he looked back he explained.

“Oh no, I’m going to get one when I join the academy!”

You blinked a few times in confusion. What did he mean when he joins the academy? It’s not like an after school program you could sign up for free to be a part of. For better or for worse the Umbrella Academy was hand picked. Sir Reginald specifically chose kids who fell under the very rare and odd circumstances such as your friends and yourself. Giving the kid an odd look you questioned,

“Join? Not to be rude kid, but what makes you think you can join?”

“Well I was born on October 1st.” He states

“Yeah so was I, but you don’t see me standing in one of those uniforms.” You retorted

“But you can be! We both probably have powers, Sir Hargreeves just needs to help us find them out!” Harold replied excitedly

God these people really had no clue what life was like behind those walls. They knew nothing of how dull and damaging academy life could be. Centering yourself you placed a hand on the kid next to you’s shoulder as you stated,

“Listen, Gerald right?”

“Harold.” He correct

“Whatever. Having powers has downsides, it is not all sunshine and rainbows. Sometimes it can be painful or frustrating or caused unintended harm to yourself or others when they get out of control.” You continued

Instead of a look of contemplation you watched as his eyes lit up.

“So you do have powers?!” He exclaimed

“I never said that.” You replied trying to get him off that topic “I’m just saying this academy isn’t the gift you think it is. You shouldn’t delude yourself because you’re only going to end up hurt.”

“Well, if you don’t want to be in the Umbrella Academy and hang with the coolest people around then suit yourself but I’m going to be living it up with my to be discovered powers and new siblings.” Harold stated

“Uh huh. Sure you are.” You remarked

“Just wait and you’ll see.” He replied

The two of you then went silent as you stood and waited for the academy to appear at their house. The thing was the Umbrella Academy had just arrived. The car had pulled into the back of the house where I could not been seen by the public. Turning from the front seat to look back at the academy, Reginald narrowed his eyes on Vanya and Five.

“Number Seven go in the house and wait in the parlor. Number Five I want you to spatial jump to the front of the house while your siblings and I drive around the block to the front in the car.” Reginald stated

“Why?” Five questioned

It didn’t make sense for him to be here while everyone else arrived later.

“Panem et circenses. Bread and circuses. The more the people are entertained the less questions they ask. Now go.” Reginald commanded

“Fine.” Five replied

Annoyed, Five spatial jumped out of the car and to the front of the house like he was told to do. With a flash he appeared in the middle of the two barricades filled with people. The crowd looked on with awe and excitement as they saw him there. Forcing a smile for the public Five gave a small wave as he looked around. And then, he saw you and a genuine smile came to his face. Pulling something from his pocket he flashed over to you. You didn’t say anything, unsure of how to interact given in this context you looked like another fan in the crowd. Granted, you were a fan of him and the rest of the academy just not in the same way as everyone else. Making the move to speak first Five asked,

“Can I sign your comic?”

“Oh wow! Yeah!” Harold said as pushed you away

Frantically, he tried to pull a comic from his pocket and hand it to Five. This was one of the things he hated most about having fans, they only cared about what they wanted and would put anyone else in harms way to get that. It was disgusting behavior to begin with but even worse that this kid had pushed you. Unhappy with the fact that he had pushed you out of the way Five looked at the boy upset and curtly replied,

“Not you. I was talking to her.”

You knew he wanted to talk to you but the question he had asked didn’t make sense. You didn’t have a comic on you. Curious as to what he meant you asked,

“What comic?”

“The one in your jacket pocket. Right there.” Five points out

Looking down your saw a rolled up comic in your pocket. Pulling the comic out you unrolled it and noticed that it was completely in french. He had gotten this comic and placed it in your pocket just so he could talk to you. Clever.

“Now how did that get there?” You questioned, a playful smirk on your face

“No clue. So can I sign it?” Five replied

“Sure, you can sign my comic.” You remarked sarcastically

You handed the comic back to Five and watched as he made no attempts to find a pen or marker to actually sign the comic. Instead, he stood there on the other side of the barricade, ignoring the rest of the crowd, and just focusing on you.

“So what have you been up to while we’ve been gone?” Five asked

“School mostly.” You replied

“Anything new happen?” He followed

“The new guy who sits behind me keeps picking on me and pulling at my hair.” You stated

Five could feel an anger start to rise in him. He was only gone a few days and someone had the audacity to pick on his best friend. No. Absolutely not, not on his watch. 

“I can do something about it for you.” He firmly states

“Absolutely not.” You retorted

It was annoying that this kid shows up and thinks he can just bother you but it’s not something you couldn’t handle. You were in the process of going through the proper channels at school but if nothing got resolved you had no qualms about handling it yourself. You did not need Five handing it because you knew his handling was the equivalent of a death sentence even if he didn’t cause serious physical harm. The psychological damage from someone with super powers threatening them would be enough to make that kid regret his own birth. 

Harold looked at the conversation between you and Five, and although he felt there was something different about it, that’s not what mattered to him. You had just told a member of the umbrella academy you DIDN’T want their help.

“What he’s a hero, he can totally help with your bully.” Harold interjected

Five looked towards the kid who had pushed you earlier and who was now trying to tell you what he thought was best. Taking a step closer to the barricade he stared Harold down. Lowering his voice in a steady tone he questioned,

“Why are you talking to her?”

Harold couldn’t see Five’s eyes from behind his mask but he could feel his piercing gaze and the tone in which he spoke felt less like a question and more like a threat.

Seeing what was starting to build you tried to redirect Five’s attention back to you by saying,

“Number Five, he’s another fan just like me, remember?”

Five turned to look back at you, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Number Five?” He asked, his voice slightly saddened “What did I do?”

“That’s. your. name.” You tried to remind without openly saying anything

It took a moment but Five was able to pick up on the message you were trying to get across and says,

“Oh-uh yeah...Number Five. Thats’s me.”

 “Anyway...” You continued “Did you do anything touristy in Paris?”

“Actually I did.” Five replies cheerfully “I saw a whole bunch of tourists placing these locks on bridges.”

“Interesting. Why?” You asked

“I don’t know but people kept writing them and their friends names on them so I did it too and wrote me and my best friend’s names.” Five explains “Alli- I mean Number Three kept giggling as I did so though which is odd since she did the same thing with Number One.”

“Weird. I’ll-” You catch yourself before finishing “I mean you’ll have to ask her about it then.” 

As Harold watched the two of you talk he felt a little frustrated. He knew that Number Five didn’t really want to talk to him but he needed to find his way into the academy. Trying to interject her said,

“Excuse me Number Five but I really need to talk to you-”

His words were ignored though as someone loudly shouted,

“They're coming! I think I see their car!”

You and Five look towards the street before you looked back to him. You knew that his father didn’t send him out here to talk to you and you worried how he would react if this is what he saw when he showed up. Taking on a more urgent tone you told Five,

“You need to move along, your father will be here any second.”

“I see them! I see the car!” Another person shouted from the crowd

Five stood frozen in place. He knew he needed to move but he also wanted you to come with him. But he couldn’t just drag you with him that would get both of you in trouble but he felt less anxious when you were actually by his side. You knew your best friend and sensing his internal conflict you said,

“Je te verrai à l'intérieur”

Finally looking back from the street, Five can feel his brain and body starting to catch up with each other and really process the situation. Looking at you he quickly replies,

“Á très bientôt”

You give him a small nod acknowledging his statement and Five takes that as his cue to walk away. He’s stopped though when Harold grabs at the sleeve of his jacket exclaiming,

“Wait no!”

With the crowd focused on the arrival of his siblings, Five didn’t want to make a scene. He could flash away but he was concerned the kid would hold on and come through the spatial jump with him. Attempting to just pull his arm away Five stated,

“Get off me kid,”

“No I just need to talk to you!” Harold replied

You were already tired of this kid to begin with but seeing him grab and pull on your friend when he should be keeping his hands to himself was the last straw for you. Placing your hand on top of his you firmly demanded,

“Let go of him. Now.”

Harold refused to let go though and so you were left with no choice. Rapidly, you heated up the molecules of your hand and burned the hand that held onto Five’s sleeve. The kid quickly let go as he saw the dark red burn now on the top of his hand. Looking towards Five you commanded,

“Go.”

And with that Five made his way closer to the entrance of his house. Staring out you with wide eyes, Harold looked between you and the mark on his hand.

“How did you do that?” He questioned shocked

“Do what?” You responded blankly

You had to have had powers. You were born on October 1st and you had just hurt him so he would let go of Five. Maybe you didn’t realize you had them but if you had powers that means he probably did too. Trying to get you to understand he explained

“You burned my hand.”

“No clue what you’re talking about.” You replied

This kid was not going to find out what you could do. Continuing to look at him blankly he saw as the rest of the academy member started to walk towards the house.

“Nevermind. Here come the rest of them, academy life here I come.” He said to himself as he jumped the barricade

You let out a sigh as you realized this wouldn’t end well, and yet you kept watching. He let Ben and Klaus pass him by before grabbing on to Allison’s arm the same way he did for Five.

“Excuse me. I'm your biggest fan.” He said

From behind him you could see Luther approach. And if his body language was any indicator you could tell how pissed he was that this kid was grabbing Allison. Grabbing Harold’s arm firmly, Luther pulls him of Allison and he angrily reprimands, “Hey, hey. You're not supposed to be in here.” “Get back behind the barricade!” Sir Reginald yells at him

You watch as Luther wraps an arm around Allison and walks her towards the house while the crowd’s focus shifts to the incident going on before them. With the crowd distracted, as Diego passes you he gestures for you to follow him. You take a cautionary glance at the crowd and with what seems like the confirmation of no one paying attention you phase through the barricade and quickly follow him towards the academy entrance. Although you thought no one noticed though, Harold did.

“What are you doing?” Reginald demanded

Harold look back from what he had just witnessed and up at Sir Reginald. “It's just...I was born on the same day as the Academy kids. I think I'm like them. I must be. I haven't quite figured out what my power is yet. But maybe with your help, we can find out.” He stuttered “You have no power. You never will have power. Now, go home.” Reginald stated “No, please. Just... I...You have to let me stay. I came all this way. Please don't make me go back.” Harold begged “A little word of advice, my boy. Not everyone in this world can be powerful. Chasing something unattainable is a recipe for a lifetime of disappointment and resentment.” Reginald stated

“No, no! I have to have powers because that girl, she has powers! I just saw it!” Harold exclaimed pointing in your direction

Hearing his words you quickly made yourself invisible before anyone could see you standing with the group. Reginald looked towards the house before looking back at Harold asking,

“What girl?”

The crowd started to laugh hysterically at the antics of the kid before them. He was ridiculous thinking he could join the umbrella academy. Trying to defend himself Harold exclaimed,

“She was just here! She-she disappeared!”

“People don’t just disappear, boy.” Reginald remarked “Now get off my property.”

Tears formed in Harold’s eyes. His heroes were now his worst enemies. They ruined his dreams and they ruined his life. From the stairs of the manor you and the rest of the academy kids watched as Harold grabbed his bag and started to run away. You felt bad for the kid but you also hoped you would never see him again.

[kurooisdbest]

nickname: carri

men: iwaizumi, tsukishima, konoha

number: 11

TSYM!!!

heyyy Carri! PLS DONT HATE ME IM SORRY IF ITS SUUUPER LATE BUT Thank you for participating hihi🥺

here are your results !

Tsukishima (Friends)

Iwaizumi (Acquaintances)

Konoha (Engaged)

TSUKISHIMA

Your friendship with Tsukishima started when you became a manager for the Karasuno VBC together and withYachi

You were already close with the other 1st years but Tsukishima was a tougher nut to crack

he was always cocky and standoffish, and that ticked you off but you being you, you got used to it and began learning how to bark back at him.

Thus, your battle of insults would turn into a tackling sessions (he was surprised how fast and strong you were, being able to attack him like a predator pouncing on its prey. Little did he know you grew up in a house with three older brothers making you a professional in wrestling matches *for the sake of the story let’s just say u have brothers hehe*), and of course would result to the both of you being lectured by Daichi and Suga

With Daichi getting impatient with the two of you, he always punished the both of you with penalty laps. A day never went by without the both of you running around the gym. Daichi was pleased with the result but he would never admit that. He saw how you and Tsukishima became closer, what began in endless bickering evolved into small chit chats, and he was a proud dad

Your friendship with Tsukishima became one of the most valued relationships you have until present;

It was the end of the MSBY vs Adlers match, and you, together with your batchmates decided to drink after to catch up with one another.

“Tsukiiiiiiiiiii come on pls I’m strong now!” you pouted at your best friend, begging him to allow you to drink.

He knew you were a lightweight, you all discovered that during one of Kuroo and Bokuto’s afterparty, when he had to carry you home after finding you passed out in the corner. Thus, he made you swear to drink only when he or the other boys were around.

His nose scrunched at your incessant begging and groaned, knowing he could never win over you. “Fine since your so ‘strong’” he made sure to make air quotes before continuing. “bring your ass back home on your own.” he deadpanned. You smiled at him brightly before linking your arms with him, dragging him to the bar.

It’s been so long since you guys got together like this. So much untold stories from Hinata’s trip to Brazil, Making fun of Kageyama’s awkward commercials, and of course the story of how Yamaguchi and Yachi got together.

As much as Tsukishima protested, he couldn’t deny that he missed hanging out like this. So much has changed in a small amount of time… except for one.

You were drinking to your heart’s content, naive of the consequences you were about to face the next day. He laughed at the drooling mess beside him and sighed. He brushed the stray hair on your face and smiled.

“I forgot to ask!” Hinata shouted from the other side of the table. “Have you ever confessed t-“ he was cut by Kageyama’s hand covering his mouth. Tsukishima glared at the ginger headed male before standing up. “We’ll be going first.” He dragged your body to stand, before carrying you on his back.

Your head rested on his shoulder as he carried you to his car. The smell of his cologne made your lips curl into a smile before nuzzling your head on his neck. “Thank you, Tsukki. i wuv yyyuuuuuu!!! youuur the bestttt” your words slurred before fully passing out. He clicked his tongue and chuckled lightly. “You’re a pain in the ass you know that?” he looked back at you, seeing how peaceful you were, letting out soft snores, before letting a smile adorn on his face.

IWAIZUMI

You recently moved from Tokyo after your father was reassigned to work in Miyagi

Being an alumnus of Aoba Johsai, he enrolled you there for your third year

Everything was going smooth. Your movers arrived on time, you easily unpacked your furniture, and you had everything you needed to face the new environment you were about to enter

However, what your father forgot to mention was that Aoba Johsai was HUGE

Hence, what would a new transferee like yourself have to go through? of course, Get lost i the vicinity

You applauded yourself mentally for thinking ahead and left for school early or else you would be late on your first day

After dozens of twists and turns you finally reached your classroom

Your homeroom teacher entered and instructed you to introduce yourself in front of the class “Hi, My name is l/n y/n. I transferred here from Nekoma. I hope we could get along.” you ended your introduction with a bow before returning to your seat.

“Thank you. L/n and Iwaizumi, I would like to speak to you both after class.” He stated before continuing with his announcements.

You didn’t know anyone in your school and you couldn’t help but wonder what your teacher wanted to talk to you about with Iwaizumi.

After class, you turn your head to where Iwaizumi was seated to see him asleep on his desk.

“Iwaizumi-san?” you poked his shoulder, trying to wake him up. Take note of the word: “Trying” because it seemed like you wouldn’t succeed with just a mere poke.

He must’ve been tired for him to fall asleep like this. Having no choice, you grabbed both of his shoulders and started shaking him. His body jolted and raised his head from the desk and gave you a confused look. You simply smiled at his reaction and told him how both of you were instructed to meet with your professor after class.

His cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment for forgetting and for making you wake him up.

In the office, your teacher told Iwaizumi to show you around campus so that you wouldn’t have to get lost next time.

You tried to decline, feeling guilty for making Iwaizumi show you around but despite your attempts to politely decline, Iwaizumi faced you and gave you a gentle smile. “It’s alright. I don’t have practice today anyway. Come on.” He turned his back and walked toward the exit.

However, you were glued there and couldn’t utter a word. You suddenly feel a hand grab yours and pulled you along.

When the both of you exited the office, Iwaizumi let go of your hand and walked ahead, glancing back at you every once in a while to make sure you were following him.

He walked by your side and toured you around the school, telling you facts and what he called “survival” tips. (Tip#1: Never fall for Oikawa. Who was that? you didn’t know. What does it have to do with you? again, you didn’t know fjsjbfjd)

sometimes your hands brush against each other and sometimes he would put an arm around your shoulder bringing you closer when you pass through places with huge crowds.

He explained to you that he didn’t want you to get lost and you let him continue because somehow… even if it’s just your first day, you might just have made your first (crush) friend

KONOHA

You had been together with Konoha for almost 6 years now. A relationship which bloomed and nurtured from middle school until high school

Despite being a year younger than him, his childish antics proved that maybe, just maybe, you were older than him in terms of maturity

He begged you to become a manager right after you became a 1st year in Fukurodani and not missing a chance to spend time with your boyfriend, you agreed.

Both of you were busy with Finals and the volleyball competitions ahead but that didn’t stop you from spending time with your boyfriend. You’re relationship was past the point of fussing over the small issues. You both were in sync with one another and the both of you learned how to handle problems that would occasionally arise.

Everything became a routine. You would spend your breaks with Konoha and the volleyball team, study after classes before training starts, and walk home together after trainings.

Although lately, you’ve been spending time with each other less. Sure, you and Konoha would study in the library together but that was it. You wondered why he would suddenly bail on you without a word, you wondered why he insisted on letting you go home first, and why he would reply late to your texts.

You understood that maybe he was just busy but the stress you were feeling about school was starting to take its toll on you

Your emotions began to heighten. You were feeling lonely and sad, realizing that maybe the spark between you and your boyfriend was slowly fading. That maybe he found someone better. You began feeling insecure, letting your mind wander over every possible scenario about what would happen next. Is this really how your love will end?

You began to shut out everyone. You barely replied to Konoha, you spoke only in a few sentences, and at times, you couldn’t even spare him a glance.

You didn’t want anyone to think you were petty so you opted to keep everything to yourself. It didn’t bother you anymore that you were spending less and less time with Konoha. Instead of feeling hurt, you felt numb.

Little did you know everything was about to change

“l/n-san.” Fukorodani’s setter and your best friend, Akaashi tapped your shoulder. “Hm?” you answered while continuing your homework on the bench without looking at him. “l/n-san.” he repeated. You dropped your pencil to look at him. “Yes?”

“Konoha-san…” he trailed off. “Huh? What happened to Akinori?” you deadpanned. “He fainted. He’s in the infirma-” you rushed to the infirmary, cutting Akaashi off mid-sentence. A surge of concern suddenly filled you and your heart began beating rapidly.

Upon reaching the infirmary door, you slid it open only to notice the lights turned off. You flicked it on and saw no one at the desk. You entered slowly and walked further into the room, scanning the beds, looking for Konoha. At the end of the room, there you saw him. Sitting down, staring at the wall in front of him.

He didn’t seem to notice you enter as you sat yourself down beside him. “Hey Akaashi told me you fainted. Are you okay?” you hesitantly placed your hand on his. “Are you mad at me?” he whispered, eyes still on the wall. “I wouldn’t say I was mad… maybe a little hurt and I felt that you were shutting me out…I didn’t even know what you were up to… What’s up with you lately?” you answered.

“I’m sorry. I just…” he faced you and placed his free hand on your cheek, caressing it. “I didn’t know you felt that way. I was just busy, that’s all.” you leaned into his touch, unaware that you really did miss him. “It’s okay, I understand. What were you busy with? Maybe I could help…” you stared back at him. “I’m not sure if you could” he answered awkwardly while rubbing the back of his neck. “I understand, excuse me” you stood up and feeling your eyes starting to tear up.

Suddenly, you felt upset. What could he be doing that even you couldn’t help with? You were about to turn the doorknob when you felt a familiar warmth grasp your wrist. “Babe…” you muttered, tears slowly streaming down your face. You faced him with your tear-stained face and smiled.

He felt guilty for having to tell you this way. He didn’t want to do it this way but he didn’t have any other choice. “Listen to me, okay?” He grabbed both of your cheeks in his hands, making you look at him. You stared at him and nodded.

“I’m so sorry for hurting you the for the past weeks… I wanted to surprise you that was all.” he cooed before releasing your cheeks. He rummaged something in his blazer and took out a small box. “This isn’t anything fancy but I’m graduating soon, and I have to wait a year before being in the same campus as you again. Y/n, I don’t know what I would do without you in my life. I loved you in the past, I love you in the present, and I will always love you in the future. Will you marry me?”

You couldn’t help but nod as the room filled with the sound of your sobs and your sniffles. Konoha hugged you tenderly and kissed you. “I love you” you replied.

a/n: hope u guys aren’t mad at me nfkshfk ily all thank you for always being patient AAAAAA posting updates for Ace of Cups soon :”>

*I have like other requests piled up in my ask box but i’ll try to get to you soon im sorry 😭

[ad1thi]

2020 fic recs!! [Part 1]

this idea was stolen from @iam93percentstardust cuz i just,,,thought that this year was absolute shit and it would be nice to make a fic rec list of fics from this year that helped me through it. this will be over a range of fandoms and ships, but all fics were written this year. 

fics are ordered by the month they were published. ive tried to keep to five fics per month, but this is not obviously all the fics ive read that month - i just didn’t want to make this insanely long. 

im releasing the first half of this on the 1st of December, and the second half on the 1st of January 2021 - because otherwise it would just get so long (and also so i will actually have fics for December)

happy reading!! hopefully you find fics on this you haven’t read yet

***

January

The cat is mighty dignified (until the dog comes by): @five-wow

Steve and Danny find them on the pillow in the corner of the dining area, where Eddie is on his side, ass half on the floor because the pillow is more cat-sized than lab-sized, and Pickles is nestled between Eddie’s front legs, essentially being spooned and looking very I-got-the-cream about it. Pickles’ head is tucked into the crook of Eddie’s neck and Eddie’s head slots perfectly on top of Mr. Pickles’, like a furry jigsaw puzzle.

“They’re cuddling,” Steve points out, unnecessarily.

Or: There is a love story unfolding under the McGarrett roof.

Captain ‘Socialist Rage Muffin’ America: @baffledkingcomposinghallelujah

It takes three months of dating Steve Rogers for Tony to understand why Aunt Peggy once shot at him in sheer frustration.

Alternately titled, Honey, I committed treason again.

The Best Laid Plans (Of Mice and Men): @arboreal-elm-ash-oak

His Dark Materials AU

It was Annalise who noticed their small visitor first.

“Tony,” the spider daemon said softly, skittering up the collar of his dress shirt, two of her eight legs resting delicately against his cheek, “Don’t startle them, but I believe we have a guest. Look, by the coffee table.”

Fourteen Million to One: @tunastorks

Six months after Thanos, six months after Tony’s death, six months after Steve returns to his own timeline, Tony Stark turns up on their doorstep.

Brewed Awakening: @iam93percentstardust

Two years after he comes out of the ice, Steve is drifting through life. On his teammate's recommendation, he decides to go back to school where he meets the grandson of an old friend. He finds happiness with Tony but Steve won't be in Boston forever and someone is out to hurt the Starks. Will Steve and Tony be able to reach their happily ever after?

February

the young, the reckless and the foolish: @bruciewayne

In most universes, they don't know each other, not in the slightest, or they hate each other, in a way that's perfectly logical for anyone who were to find themselves in a similar situation.

In this one, they've known each other since they were four years old and naively idealistic.

This is them over the years, against the odds.

a giant sign: @areiton

“Think you can get him to open the weapons division up again?” his CO asks, his voice hungry and Rhodey laughs because this--

“No. Tony hung up his weapons.”

“That’s not what the suit says,” his CO objects, and Rhodey shrugs.

Tony has always had rules, rules he expects the entire world to live by.

And then there was Rhodey, slipping under them.

my heart is driftwood, floating down your coast: @nethandrake

Tonight, there’s a stranger in his backseat. That’s not unusual.

He’s also sad. That’s not unusual either.

What is unusual is that the stranger is silent.

(One night, a stranger enters Steve's taxi. Nothing is the same again.)

Just A Cold: @/delighted 

There’s a new text waiting for him. It’s from Steve of course, and it’s vaguely threatening as most messages from Steve are these days. Still Danny ignores it, and now he’s really playing with fire. Maybe it’ll burn the cold out of him.

Or, Danny’s sick, and Steve can’t stay away. The usual comfort fluff. With a little cameo from a gently meddling Grace.

An Unexpected Guide: @/Rachel500

Danny Williams has hidden his Guide status to keep being a detective, but his time of hiding is up when he unexpectedly finds his Sentinel, Steve McGarrett in the midst of a tragedy.

March

Why don’t we (Collide the spaces that divide us): @five-wow

When they finally catch sight of each other again through the milling crowds, they’re both a little worse for wear. Danny’s left side is covered in glitter and every time he brushes a hand over his hair, more blue and purple confetti rains down. Steve is- Well, Steve is randomly shirtless, which is all things considered not excessively remarkable, but he’s also covered in smudges of colorful paint and has a very nicely printed bloodred lipstick kiss mark on his cheek.

“What did you do?” Danny asks, because it looks like Steve had a lot more fun than he did.

Or: Steve and Danny accidentally end up in the middle of something entirely new.

A Little Unsteady: @finduilasclln 

Written for the Tumblr prompt meme : "Hey! I was gonna eat that!"

Tony lashes out at Bucky for eating his dessert. Only, it really isn't about the dessert.

a national treasure: @starklysteve

Steve isn't looking for an apple and Tony decides his passion is to inspire young souls. -x- OR: the AU where Tony is a Youtuber and Steve is Captain America and somehow they still save the world together.

April

cycle through: @ambivalentmarvel

Twenty-five years ago, Tony Stark disappeared from his family home a month after the tragic deaths of his parents, Howard and Maria Stark, leaving a billion-dollar tech conglomerate without an heir and the world wondering what happened.

Twenty-three years ago, HYDRA gained another super soldier.

Ten years ago, Peter Parker’s parents died in what is ruled as a home invasion gone wrong but he knows was murder, plain and simple, because he spoke to the killer.

And in the present, Project Insight fails, and the Iron Soldier pays the price.

FOREVER-LOVE YOU-I: @/Eudoxia

Tony Stark is twenty-one when he loses his voice. It shouldn't matter, but in a world where the first words your Soulmate says to you are marked on your skin, it can be pretty damn annoying.

Especially for Tony's soulmate.

--

Companion piece to my fic Thumb, Index, and Pinky Extended. This is Steve's POV, with a few extra scenes, as a treat.

(Edit: Sorry if you guys get multiple notifications for this. I just realized (about two hours after posting it) that I fucked up the grammar in the title and I HAD to fix it. YOLO, I guess.)

come build a home out of me: @maguna-stxrk

Steve clears his throat.

“What if I went with you?” he asks nonchalantly, like his heart isn’t threatening to beat out of his ribcage.

Tony blinks a few times, looking at Steve, his mouth ajar. “As a— As my date?”

“Yeah.” Steve nods, feeling a little breathless.

“You don’t mind?” Tony furrows his eyebrows.

“I don’t. In fact, you can just tell them I’m your boyfriend. I’m sure they’ll back off, wouldn’t they?”

What.

“I— Huh?” Tony stares at him, brown eyes blown wide open.

What. What. What.

“Huh? Uh, I mean— You know, that way people will see that you have definitely moved on. Monica will see that you have moved on. Right?” Steve smiles, hoping that it masks his inner panic, because what?

Steve Rogers, what have you done?

i don’t have a choice (but i’d still choose you): @nethandrake

There’s a name inked onto his chest, a name written in an all-too familiar scrawl. And it’s— It’s—

Steve doesn’t realize his body is quaking until he’s tracing the tattoo with a shaky finger.

Because of course that is the name etched into the skin. Like a brand, a reminder for everything he has done. An appropriate retribution.

Anthony Edward Stark.

(When Thanos snaps half of the universe away, he unknowingly leaves the other half with soulmarks.)

ua haʻalele ʻoe iaʻu (a ua hoʻomālamalama ʻoe iaʻu): @just-fandomthings

"The truth is, I was shot in the chest and nearly died, and not even three days after I was released from the hospital, you up and left-- and of those two, I'm not sure which one hurt me worse!"

(Coda to 10x22 because come on, we all need a better ending than the one given to us.)

Title loosely translates to: "You left me in the dark (you lit me up)" -- inspired by the brilliant song "Say You Won't Let Go" by James Arthur

May

A Piece Of The Past: @hddnone

It had been so many years since Bucky had gone undercover in the Stark family's mob, he thought he'd gotten away clean.

Then Tony Stark slid into the seat across from him at his breakfast diner, and Bucky's boss has a new case for him.

the privilege of loving you: @starklysteve

“Why won’t you let me touch you?”

It’s a desperate plea, half-shouted and half-whispered, Steve’s voice cracking at the end. Tony stops in his tracks, halfway to the stairs. He doesn’t dare to turn back, and he really doesn’t want to fight, or to leave, to spend the last month of his life away from his husband and their son. But Steve can’t know, can he?

-x-

Or: Tony has palladium poisoning, but he doesn't tell Steve and Peter

your pillow feels so soft now (but still you must advance): @firebrands

When Bruce is 13, he decides to go to boarding school. It's an opportunity for him to learn about other people, and how to interact with them.

Bruce has the misfortune of meeting Tony Stark upon his arrival in Roxbury. Bruce is moving into his room, and Tony opens the door of his room to watch. He looks a bit younger than Bruce, hair wild and eyes bright. Bruce has never seen a boy like him before—handsome and confident.

Bruce doesn’t like it.

IMPORTANT: This fic has them meeting at 14, then progresses slowly until they’re 17. Includes underage drinking and kissing.

This is set before Bruce becomes Batman and Tony becomes Iron Man and I have no explanation as to how or why they just DO Canonically, Bruce is 17 when he finishes school and goes around the world to train, so we're sticking with that

The Real MVP: @sword-and-stars (part of a series)

[“I have saved this Tuesday!” Sokka announces, rattling the bag upon reentry.

Zuko doesn’t even look up from his phone as he deadpans, “It’s Thursday.”

Okay, so Sokka is still having trouble getting his days right without checking. At least he’s gone back to sleeping at night! Going to bed at night is way easier when you have a cute, cuddly boyfriend who starts falling asleep around eleven o’clock. It also helps that he and Zuko are on solid gold butt-touching terms.

It’s been a while since Sokka has been on butt-touching terms with someone and it’s amazing.]

Or,

Sokka knows a guy, gets laid, and introduces Zuko to the merits of an afternoon delight.

When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it): @riotwritesthings

There’s a tiny safe house, with one tiny window and one tiny couch.

And one tiny little bed.

June

Nice Fingers: @anthonyed

A single compliment given by Tony stirs Bucky restless until he caves in and asks him out on a date.

With Steve’s help of course (whether he likes it or not).

The Darkest Touch: @starkrogerrs

This is the story of how Steve finds that it has been ordained that he is to marry a monster he cannot resist aka the God of Love himself, Tony.

It's Cupid x Psyche retold, but with thrice the amount of porn.

The Night Shift:  @weethreequarter

Welcome to the Emergency Department of San Antonio General where Dr. Tony Stark joins the team fresh from his most recent tour in Afghanistan and - much to the consternation of the other staff - strikes up an instant rapport with Nurse Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, new resident Bruce Banner refuses to give up on his patient, and Dr. Sharon Carter learns something from her own patients. Throw in a pissed off hospital administrator, Clint using the coffee pot as a mug again, and a major car crash and you have, well, just another night shift.

Wind Beneath My Wings: @iam93percentstardust

Sam first meets Tony Stark in 2005 when he joins the EXO-7 Falcon program.

In jest: @/apathyinreverie

“No, babe,” Danny shakes his head with a grin. “If the apocalypse were to go down while I’m elsewhere for some godforsaken reason, then you stay put and I’m coming to wherever you are.” His grin widens. “And I expect you to have cleared any aliens or zombies or whatever else might be messing with us off the island and to have set up a nice, comfortable military dictatorship for us to rule over by the time I get back.”

It’s a joke.

Of course it’s a joke.

Until it isn’t.

(A the-day-after-tomorrow-style apocalypse AU, where the world decides to end right when Danny is visiting one of the other islands with Grace. Because, of course, it does.)

[phyrephoenix]

The StoryBook Legacy Challenge

Each Generation is a new Chapter in the Book of Lives.

Overall Rules and Notes:

Lifespan: Normal

If you choose to make Same Sex Couples, make sure your Heir is set on Get Pregnant and the partner is set on Make Pregnant.

Even though there is Occult Children in this Legacy, they are not part of the Legacy Line. Abduction babies don’t count as eligible for Heir decisions.

Read Story for the next Generation, important for the Heir’s Childhood

Each heir must Practise Writing (PC or writing in journal) till they can write “non-fiction” books.

They must write a book named after their Generation’s title.

All these Book, plus urns must be kept in the heir’s inventory till last generation.

The last Generation’s Heir will have a mausoleum where the books and urns will be displayed.

Books should be written as elders, put all the children and Spouses/ Partners names in description.

If heir dies from accidental of emotional deaths before elder or before they could write the book, one of their children or partner can write it.

Money: You can choose how you want to play the family funds.

If you play this challenge and want to share it with us, go ahead and post with #StoryBookLegacy

The traits are listed as (Child),(Teen),(YA)

Generation 1: The Friendly Doctor

Your Passion is people. To Heal them, to befriend them, to entertain them on the Piano. If you ever fall in love, it will be with a Co-Worker.

Career: Doctor

Traits: Genius, Outgoing, Ambitious

Aspiration Complete: Friend of the World

Skills Maxed: Charisma, Logic, Piano

Goals:

Workaholic till Death.

Focus on work and skilling till end YA

Fall in love with an Adult Co-Worker, while still YA

Get married to Co-Worker after turning Adult. (and Co-Worker is Elder or close to)

Have 1 Pregnancy

Do not retire, but can use vacation days after the Last Days pop-up came.

Rules:

Live in the San Myshuno, can move apartments as you have more money

Have a Party for Every Birthday

Main Sim may not fix broken objects, just replace them. Spouse/Child may fix them.

Join Main Sim at work and work Late most Days, may work normal in Birthdays for Parties

Can only control other Family members when Main Sim is at home

Heir: Only Child/ First born from 1 Pregnancy

Main Packs Needed: Get to Work + City Living

Generation 2: Parenting 101

Growing up, your parents wasn’t very present. Your Father died when you were young and your mom before you became a YA. The only time you and mom spend together was with music, listening to it together or making it: she on the piano, you on the violin. You want to work from home as a Writer and be a Super Parent to a big Family.

Career: Freelance Writer

Traits: Music Lover, Neat, Family-Oriented

Aspirations Complete: Super Parent, Bestselling Author

Skills Maxed: Writing, Parenting, Violin

Goals:

Have 1st Child soon after turning YA

Have at least 3 Pregnancies

Female Heirs may get married or just have children

Male heirs must have GF move in, or get married

Rules:

Move to Newcrest

Must help with Homework/ Projects often

Be friends with ALL your children

Middle Child must be “neglected”, rather help another Child

Try for Multiples

Must have Uneven number of Kids (abduction babies do not count for number)

All children must be in after school activities, Middle child must be in Drama club, the rest in Scouts.

Heir: Middle Child (preferably a Daughter)

Main Packs Needed: Parenthood + Get Famous

Generation 3: A Star is Born

Growing up with a lot of Siblings is tough, you got lost in the crowd. As the Middle Child you rarely got attention, now you want to be in the center of it.

Career: Actress

Traits: Active, Self-Absorbed, Romantic

Aspirations Complete: Bodybuilder, World Famous Celebrity, Master Actress

Skills Maxed: Acting, Fitness, Mixology

Goals:

Have 2 Pregnancies with 2 Different Sims

Keep figure Skinny

Be close with your children

Rules:

Move to Del Sol Valley. Start in cheaper home and move to Celebrity home when 5 stars

Don’t get married (if male heir – GF must move out after birth(s))

Have 1 Pregnancy as YA and 1 Pregnancy as Adult

If 1st Pregnancy is female(s), Carrot/Alternative music method for 2nd Pregnancy (or use MCCC)

Try to never lose stars

Heir: Oldest Male

Main Packs Needed: Get Famous

Generation 4: I Need More Space

Your Parent was/is a Star, you want to Reach the Stars! You want to explore space and maybe even find an Alien Planet and meet some native Aliens! You know there is Aliens living between us now!

Career: Astronaut – Space Ranger

Traits: Perfectionist, Geek, Unflirty

Aspirations Complete: Nerd Brain, StrangerVille Mystery (with Spouse)

Skills Maxed: Rocket Science, Handiness, Video Gaming, Programming

Goals:

Have at least 1 Abduction Pregnancy

Only 1 “Normal” Sim Child

Travel to Sixam

Be friends with all Aliens you meet

Spouse must be in Military Career (they join it after they move in)

Complete Stangerville aspiration with Spouse.

Rules:

Move to Strangerville

Can’t have children with Aliens unless it is through an abduction or After Heir is a Teen

Have at least 1 Child with Non-Alien Sim as YA or Early Adult (Do not try for multiples)

You do not have to marry Non-Alien, just have child and move out

Marry an Alien after Heir is a Teen

Give spouse the StrangerVille Mystery aspiration and Military Career

Heir: Non-Alien Child (oldest in case of multiples)

Main Packs Needed: Get to Work + StrangerVille + City Living

Generation 5: Nature Child

While your Dad’s head was in the Sky, yours was on the ground. You want to be one with Nature. You are also the only (one of few) “Normal” or Non-Alien Sibling, which made you a bit of a Loner.

Career: Gardener – Floral Designer

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Loner, Vegetarian

Aspirations Complete: Outdoor Enthusiast, Freelance Botanist

Skills Maxed: Gardening, Flower Arranging, Herbalism, Wellness

Goals:

Have a big Garden/ Green House,

Try to collect all main plants

Have at least 2 Pregnancies

Getting married is not important, unless it is a male heir

Rules:

Move to Willow Creek

Go to Granite Fall after turning YA and finish Outdoor Enthusiast Aspiration.

Only start Career and family after finishing Asp and starting with Freelance Botanist

Have all Children help with Gardening, they must also all get the Loves Outdoors Trait as a Child

Heir: Youngest Child (Either Gender, but Male more)

Main Packs Needed: Seasons + Outdoor Retreat + Spa Day + City Living

Generation 6: Dirt for Dirt

While your family wanted to make things come out of the Dirt, you wanted to know what was in the Dirt. You wanted to uncover the Dirt!

Career: Secret Agent – Diamond Agent

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Genius, Self-Assured

Aspirations Complete: Jungle Explorer, Archaeology Scholar

Skills Maxed: Archaeology, Salvadorian Culture, Guitar, Logic

Goals:

Main focus is finishing both Jungle Explorer and Archaeology Scholar Aspirations by switching between them

Have at least 2 Pregnancies before turning Adult

Get married to Salvadorian Native

Rules:

Move to Oasis Springs and live in the more desert side

Go to Salvadorada after turning YA

Only start with Career after finishing both Aspirations

May choose any new Aspiration

Don’t have to finish career before death

Get married to a Salvadorian Native you met while visiting Salvadorada

Go back to Salvadorada with Children often

Make sure 1st Pregnancy is female

Heir: Oldest Daughter

Main Packs Needed: Jungle Adventure

Generation 7: Hungry for Knowledge

Growing up your family went on Vacation to Salvadorada a lot. You got to experience all the food there, which made you grow in love with Food. Making it, eating it, learning new meals.

Career: Critic – Food Critic & Culinary – Chef

Traits: Cheerful, Foodie, Non-Committal

Aspirations Complete: Master Chef, Renaissance Sim

Skills Maxed: Baking, Cooking, Gourmet Cooking

Goals:

As Teen be a Fast-Food Employee

Start Critic Career as YA, try to reach Food Critic branch before Adult

Switch to Culinary career once Adult and join Chef Branch

Have at least 3 Pregnancies with 2+ partners

Learn all Experimental Food & Food stalls Recipes

Rules:

Move to San Myshuno, start in cheapest apartment and work up to a penthouse

Reach cooking lvl 5 as teen, learn all Salvadorian meals before becoming YA

Go to every Festival and learn all meals

Learn & Photograph all experimental meals

Don’thave to get married, but if you do, as an elder

Buy a cupcake machine and Ice Cream Machine and learn to make (and make) all the recipes

Heir: Youngest Child

Main Packs Needed: Jungle Adventure + City Living + Dine Out + Seasons

Generation 8: Family Pet

Growing up you were used to having a lot of Varieties. A Variety of meals, of siblings and partners for your mother. You want a simple life, one partner to grow old with and lots of pets.

Career: Open a Vet Clinic

Traits: Cat Lover, Dog Lover, Family-Oriented

Aspirations Complete: Soulmate, Friend of the Animals

Skills Maxed: Parenthood, Veterinarian, Pet Training

Goals:

Have at least 1 Cat & 1 Dog via adoption

Have at least 1 Pregnancy and adopt 2+ Children (baby/toddler)

Operate and make money of a Successful Vet Clinic

Rules:

Move to Brindleton Bay

Adopt a Kitten on first day

Spouse must share 1 Trait with Main

Adopt Child before having 1st Pregnancy

Don’t have a “real” job, the Vet Clinic is your full time gig

Can do Odd Jobs for more money

Spend more time with pets

Heir: Biological Child (preferably a daughter)

Main Packs Needed: Cats & Dogs + Parenthood

Generation 9: Something Fishy

Growing up, your parents gave more attention to your adopted Siblings, both human and animal. You do love animals, but is more drawn to the ocean and its creatures. You would love an easy life in a Beach House.

Career: Conservationist – Marine Biologist

Traits: Music Lover, Child of the Ocean, Materialistic

Aspirations Complete: Beach Life & Fabulously Wealthy

Skills Maxed: Fitness, Singing, Wellness

Goals:

Turn into a mermaid before becoming an Adult, but after having a Child

Have 1 Child before becoming a mermaid, more children after becoming one

Do not marry the father of 1st child.

Complete the Fabulously Wealthy asp by starting at the bottom (Rags to Riches style)

Rules:

Spend a lot of time on the Beach as Child (in Brindleton Bay and/or Sulani)

Become pregnant with teen lover’s child on the day they age up to YA

Move to Sulani after confirming pregnancy.

Only switch to Fabulously Wealthy Aspiration after you moved out.

Build a small house on a beach lot and move Sim in with “freerealestate” cheat, move out with only $1,000

Spouse must also be a mermaid, but not the father of 1st pregnancy

Only become mermaid after having at least 1 Biological Child

Heir: Oldest non-mermaid Child

Main Packs Needed: Island Living + Spa Day + City Living

Generation 10: Colour Me Musically

Growing up it was just you and your mother. But then your mom fell in love with a mermaid and became one herself. They had a big mermaid family and you became an afterthought. You became a Clean Canvas, and want to fill it with a lot of Creativity.

Career: Style Influencer - Stylist

Traits: Creative, Music Lover, Clumsy

Aspirations Complete: Musical Genius, Painter Extraordinaire, Best selling Author

Skills Maxed: Guitar, Painting, Piano, Violin, Writing

Goals:

The Focus is Creative skill levelling

Have at least 2 Pregnancies

Sell paintings on street sales

Rules:

Move to Windenburg Island area (Close to bluffs)

Spouse must have Creative Trait.

Sell all Paintings, excellent or higher, on street sales

Must reach lvl 10 on musical instruments before Elder

Work on all Aspirations by switching them

All children must have Creative skill and complete Artistic Prodigy Aspiration

Heir: Oldest Child

Main Packs Needed: City Living + Get Together

Generation 11: Socially Famous

Being Creative was a must while growing up. Your (Main Parent) influence other people’s style, but you want to be an Internet Personality. You also want to do everything you can with the Computer. Maybe you can even become famous? You also want to run some groups.

Career: Social Media – Internet Personality

Traits: Creative, Insider, Outgoing

Aspirations Complete: Leader of the Pack, Friend of the World

Skills Maxed: Media Production, Programming, Video Gaming, Dancing

Goals:

Have at least 2 groups and marry someone from a group

Join at least 1 existing Group

Spouse only have to be in 1 Group (after leaving Singles Group)

Become at least a 3 Star Celebrity

Have at least 3 Pregnancies

Rules:

Move to another neighbourhood in Windenburg

Make a Singles group, which Main & Spouse will leave after getting together

Start another group after leaving Singles group

Make use of the streaming bod

Heir: Youngest Daughter

Main Packs Needed: Get Together + City Living + Get Famous

Generation 12: Capturing Magic

Growing up there was always people around you. Your parents loved being social. You love photography and want to make a career from it, but you also want to know the truth about Magic. You’ve seen a Magical Portal in Glimmerbrook as a Teen and want to explore it more.

Career: Freelance - Fashion Photographer

Traits: Neat, Perfectionist, Art Lover

Aspirations Complete: Spellcraft & Sorcery, Purveyor of Potions

Skills Maxed: Photography, Painting, Charisma

Goals:

Have a successful career as a Photographer

Become a Spellcaster

Have at least 2 Pregnancies with Spouse and 1 Pregnancy with a One-Night Stand

Form a big Spellcaster Family

Rules:

Move to Glimmerbrook

Become a Spellcaster after moving to Glimmerbrook

Marry a spellcaster, all children from marriage must also marry spellcasters (or must turn into Spellcasters).

Have a One-Night Stand with a non-spellcaster after getting married.

Only have One-Night Stand pregnancy after having 2 pregnancies with spouse.

Ask “To be just friends” after getting Pregnant with One-Night Stand

If Illegitimate child is a spellcaster, they must take the Rite of Dissolution as a Teen

Take photographs of everything/everyone and display it.

Heir: Oldest (Only) Child from One-Night Stand

Main Packs Needed: Realm of Magic + Moschino

Generation 12: Who Wants To Live Forever

You were the Black sheep of the Family. A constant reminder of your Mother’s infidelity. Your Step-Father tried to include you, but you could see it pains him, your Biological Father wasn’t part of your life. Your half-siblings mostly ignored you. You just want to go Dark, maybe even live forever!

Career: Criminal – Oracle Branch

Traits: Bookworm, Loner, Gloomy

Aspirations Complete: Chief of Mischief, Master Vampire, Good Vampire

Skills Maxed: Vampiric Lore, Mischief, Programming, Pipe Organ

Goals:

Befriend a Vampire and become a Vampire while still YA

You do not have to have to get married or have children

Legacy Ends when Sim finished both Aspirations, Career and Main skills

Rules:

Move to Forgotten Hollow after turning YA or as a Teen if mother dies

Turn into a Vampire as soon as you can ask a Vampire to turn.

Disliked for CoM Asp must be half-Siblings and /or step-father

Have a mausoleum where the books and urns of the Legacy are displayed.

Heir: No Heir – Legacy Ends

Main Packs Needed: Vampires

[daydreamingsora-fics]

Captains reacting to their s/o dancing

A/N: Yow yow, I really love dancing so I thought why not write some headcannons about it (✿◡‿◡). So I did a captain hc huehue! I hope you like it and enjoy this hc! always stay safe everyone! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

-sky~

Bokuto, Terushima, Oikawa, and Kuroo having a dancer s/o

BOKUTO KOTARO

the two of you are already dating for one year and he already knows that you are really a good dancer. 

but even though, he already knew about your dancing skills, he still get shock every time he watches you dancing.

the two of you are busy with practice because the spring national tournament are coming and your dance troupe have a competition coming. 

most of the time, your practice ends earlier than his and you will wait for him outside the gym so you two will go home together

but since the competition is just around the corner your practice got extended and actually forgot to text Bokuto about your practice ending later than before.

when Bokuto’s training ended, he went to the lockers room to change and went outside the gym, he realizes that you’re not there. 

he and akaashi went to your dance studio and on the way there, they can hear the music in the hall.

he took a peek inside the studio through the door that has a window. 

he saw you there dancing with your crew members. 

Bokuto gets excited when he sees dancing, he looks at akaashi and tells him how great dancer you are and Akaashi agrees with the captain.

when the song River by Bishop Briggs started to play, Bokuto saw how your expression changes from having an arrogant look to a seductive look. 

your body started to sway sexily in to the music, making Bokuto shock. the big owl didn’t expect you to dance like that. 

Bokuto was attacked!

even Akaashi was shocked because damn that body sways is sex af but he will remain his stoic expression.

meanwhile your boyfriend is grinning ear to ear while watching you. 

he is a proud boyfie because his s/o dances so good.

this dud was actually lowkey turned on

when your practice ended, you immediately texted Bokuto and told him that your practice just ended. 

and as soon as your text was delivered, you got a reply from him that he is waiting outside your studio with akaashi. 

you immediately change your clothes and packed your things then you bid your goodbye to your crew member and went out the studio.

you saw your boyfriend and Akaashi in front the door leaning against the door. 

Bokuto called you and gave you a tight not minding of you being sweaty while Akaashi said hi to you. 

the three of you started walking to the exit while you asked them about their trainings. 

Bokuto started talking about how good his straight shots during their training earlier then Akaashi said that Bokuto forgot how to do cross shots again making the big baby owl to whine. 

“AKAAAaaAAAgGsHIIi”

you just laughed at your boyfriend who’s now pouting. 

but his pouty face was immediately replaced with excitement as soon as he started to talk about how great you dance in your practice.

he even mentioned you dancing sexily which made you blush.

he then said to you “You should dance like that when we’re just together alone”

you and akaashi choked in your saliva and started to cough.

“Kou, omg, Akaashi is here please”

Akaashi cleared his throat and wandered his eyes around then said “Please keep it PG, Bokuto-san”

TERUSHIMA YUUJI

You and Terushima started dating months ago.

The two of you met each other because of Bobata because you’re his close friend and he is Terushima’s teammate. 

He knows that you’re a great dancer but he rarely sees it because you’re actually a shy girl and rarely shows off your talent. 

But when he sees you dancing, he is fascinated by you and your talent. 

So, onetime he and Bobata decided to attend your competition. 

You knew about this which actually made you more nervous because this the first time your boyfriend will watch you dance in a competition. 

Terushima and Bobat waited for your dance troupe to perform.

They have seen a lot of other dance troupes dances great which made him more excited to see you dance. 

When your dance crew was called the two, he started cheering for your team but mostly for you. 

Your team went on to the starting position and the crowd went silent. 

The music started then your groups started dancing. 

The crowd let out an “oooh” as they watch how synchronized your group was.

Terushima was only fixated on you, amazed on how your body move along to the every beat of the music. 

He is mostly amazed by how different you are, when you’re on stage from just hanging out with him.

You’re so confident on stage dancing, your expression is on point, is not the same from y/n he knows. 

He was even more amazed when you stood in the middle of the stage and your group was surrounding you. 

You controlled your group like you’re the queen of dance floor.

The crowds let out a cheer when they sees this part of the dance. 

And when the performance is done, everyone started clapping and Terushima was shouting your name and some compliments too. 

You saw Terushima in the crowd and your eyes locked to each other then you gave him a wave and proud smile. 

After the other groups performed, it’s now the time for the awarding. 

All of the groups were standing on the stage along with the hosts and judges of the contest. 

The host has announces the 2nd runner up and 1st runner up but the name of your group was still not called.

You slowly started to lose hope but then suddenly the host called your group’s name as a champion. 

You’re shock same with your crew members then your group went to the front of the stage and receives the award and the trophy.

Terushima was so happy that he’s jumping while Bobata is shouting for your group. 

After the event, they waited for you outside the venue and when they saw you walking out, they walked towards you. 

You see your boyfriend walking with his friend and you ran to them. 

You went straight to Terushima and gave him a hug. 

He lifts you up as he keeps on chanting your name and congratulations.

When he puts you down he looks at you then gave you a kissed on the cheeks. 

You heard your crew members squeal but you didn’t mind.

“Congratulations, y/n! you guys did great dancing there” Bobata said and you thanked him .

“waaah! baby, you’re so great out there!”

“I never knew you had that kind aura”

“I felt like I didn’t know you when I saw you on stage! your personality is so different from what I always see”

That’s what Terushima says which makes you blush

You just hit him lightly then walks you to your bus.

He and Bobata went back to school and as they arrive on the school, Bobata bids his goodbye while Terushima waits for you to arrive. 

When your group arrived, you saw him standing at the gate, so you bid them a goodbye and went to your boyfriend.

Terushima treated you dinner and the two of you talks about the event earlier.

OIKAWA TOURU

You and Oikawa along with Iwaizumi are childhood friends. 

The two of you only started dating on your 3rd year of Highschool.

Since you guys grew up each other, he already knows your obsession with dancing especially when the song is KPOP.

During weekend Oikawa have a training while you do your homeworks or other school works in your house. 

One weekend, Oikawa’s training finishes earlier than expected so he decided to visit your house without you even knowing. 

He went to your house and saw your mom in the kitchen.

Your mother was also surprised at first to see him visit the house but then told him that you’re in your room. 

Oikawa went to your room and saw the door was slightly open.

Slowly walk to the door then peeks through and saw you dancing to BTS’ song “ON”

With a loving smile on his face, he watches you silently as you dance gracefully to the song. 

He always sees dance, even when the two of you are in public.

When you hear KPOP songs or any songs that catches your attention, your body will sway with the music.

Even so, he is still amazed by it and makes him fall again to you. 

Your talent is one of the aspect that he fell in love for. 

He loves how the way you enjoy the music at the same time move along with beat. 

When the song ended you turned around and saw him peeking through the door. 

You are frozen from where you are standing as you look at him with a shock evident on your face. 

Oikawa chuckled as he enters your room and greeted you.

“Hey there babe! nice dance”

You are still not moving, so he went to you and gave you a peck on your lips.

You came back to reality then gave him a glare as hit him on his arm.

“Yah! why are you here? did you skip practice?!!!”

He tries to nudge your hits as he explains why he is in your house.

“Our training ended early, so I decided to visit you and surprise you”

You stopped hitting him but still gave him a glare while he gave you an innocent smile.

“By the way babe, that dance is amazing! can you teach that to me?” 

Your glare was gone but you are now looking at him weirdly. 

Nevertheless, you still teach him and let me tell you his body is so stiff and he sucks with dancing.

KUROO TETSURO

You and Kuroo started dating during your 3rd year highschool because the two of you are in the same class and was seatmate. 

When the two of you stepped in college, on your 2nd year, the two of you decided to live in together.

With that, Kuroo always see you dancing anywhere in the apartment.

He saw you danced when you cooked, when you clean the apartment even when you shower. LMAOOOO

But when tiktok became a trend, you always make a tiktok video of you dancing. 

He sometimes joins you in the video but mostly he just photo-bomb.

One time, you’re in the living room creating a tiktok video again while Kuroo is in the kitchen cooking you both some lunch. 

As you’re dancing, Kuroo steps in the living room and was supposed to call you to eat lunch. 

But he ended up seeing you twerking to Rihanna’s song “Work”

He was speechless at first but when he stares at your sexy butt, he got lowkey turned on.

You didn’t notice him though, as you’re busy twerking.

He looks at you and he can’t help but smile because he sees you enjoying what you’re doing. 

Your talent in dancing is not something that you show off to your friends

 when tiktok was still not a trend, you rarely dance, and only dances in front of people you’re comfortable with. 

That’s why Kuroo was so happy when you post short dance cover in tiktok because he sees you enjoys it.

When Kuroo notices that you’re done with dancing, he called your name which made you startled.

He compliments your ass while you just rolled your eyes and chuckled as you took your phone to look at the video.

“Nice ass there babe”

In the middle of watching the video, you saw Kuroo at the back smirking at you as twerk. 

You laughed at his reaction and showed it him. 

He also laugh but then ask you to do it for him again later.

“Say babe, can you twerk again later after we eat lunch but do it in front of me”

You just ignored him and laughed it off as you went to the kitchen to eat lunch.  

[mostly-megan]

December Prompts- December 1st: Holiday

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader

Rating: E for Everyone (Fluff)

Word count: 667; not beta read, we live and die by the sword

Warnings: Very cold and soft

❄️December Writing Masterlist ❄️

(A/N): Sorry it’s late! But a quick thanks to everyone for all of the support! Prompts from @honeymandos​; Photo credit: @everydayschristmas 

“Come on, honey, we’ve got to hurry,” Marcus called back to you, pulling open the door as he adjusts his long coat. Giggling, you lace up your boots and stand, “I’m coming, I’m coming, baby!” Just as you grab your key from the nightstand, Marcus beams at you approaching, “You got everything, baby?”. “Yes, let’s go! You’d almost think you’re excited or something baby,” you giggle and wink at him as he closes the hotel door behind you, earning a light blush and chuckle. 

“Alright, alright, you were right, I have to admit it. I just didn’t want you making a fuss,” you laugh, shaking your head at him. The walk to the center of the town was only 4 minutes, so speed wasn’t an issue. You are happy Marus finally seems to have perked up in his time off. His supervisor was concerned when he saw your husband’s huge backlog of time off. He insisted Marcus take the next two weeks off, not wanting the head of his art theft department burning out in the middle of some big case. 

The first few days were filled with Marcus trying to do every little home project he had been running behind on, but there were only so many loose bannisters and leaky faucets in one house. You started looking for something to do together, putting in for time off for his second week. Eventually, you found a small town a few hours north that has a yearly Holiday Lights ceremony every year. You booked a hotel room nearby and packed up the both of you. 

Despite the guilt you could see him having over not being there for his team, the drive alone seemed to put enough distance between him and the office to let him feel a little lighter. After finding the perfect dinner in town, Marcus was thoroughly enjoying himself. Days looking through shops, exploring museums and landmarks, and even a few strenuous days in bed brought more ease to his demeanor. 

Now, with his hand lightly warming the small of your back, he looks like a little kid. A healthy crowd of townspeople and a few tourists gather around the ice square in the middle of the quintessential town center, dark as the sunset. Finding an open spot near the stage Marcus wraps his arms around your waist, lips featherlight against your neck. He tugs teasingly on the buttons of your coat, “You all warm and bundled?” You sigh as his lips softly connect just under your ear, “Mhmmm…” 

All of a sudden, the streetlights all cut out and the whole block goes completely dark. You can hear Marcus excitedly hum. The small school band on stage starts playing some dramatic holiday music as a spotlight lands on the older man and a student in front of the large tree. The man introduces himself as the mayor and the high school student as the last year’s high school class Valedictorian. As the music builds, they begin to countdown from 10. The crowd yells “Happy Holidays!” as they press the buttons and the entire square glitters. 

The stores trimmed with tiny, blinking strands matching the musical rhythm, projected shapes dance over the higher buildings, spirals of white wrapped around street lamps, huge colorful bulbs shine among silver and gold Christmas ornaments on the tree. It’s beautiful, you feel extra warm from the atmosphere with Marcus still curling around you. Tilting your head up, you see Marcus’s wide eyes gleaming with breathless excitement. His face is bathed in different colored-light, his grin beaming just as bright in the glow. 

He catches you staring and winks, nuzzling closer to your neck as you turn back to the tree. “Isn’t it just the prettiest thing, Marcus?” you feel the hum from his chest against your back. “Almost the prettiest thing I’ve seen all day,” he kisses your cheek, “Happy Holidays, baby!” You wrap your hands around his biceps as warmth spreads through your chest and cheeks, “Happy Holidays, Marcus!”

Tagging who might be interested: @zeldasayer​ @winters-buck​ @max--phillips​​ @rae-gar-targaryen​ @yespolkadotkitty​ @scribbledghost​ @plexflexico​ @sunshinepascal​ @agirllovespancakes​ @keeper0fthestars​ @din-djarin-owns-my-wap​ @youmeanmybrain​ @talesfromtheguild​ @frannyzooey​ @absurdthirst​ @softpedropascal​ @fairytalesintheend​​ @lackofhonor​​ @maybege​​ @getinthepoolkeanu​​ @pedroepascal​​ @pedropascalito​ @mylifeliterally​​ @catfishingmorales​​ @miss-me-jack​​ @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa​​ @pettyprocrastination @autumnleaves1991-blog​

[elle-and-the-fandoms]

Signs - Kuroo Tetsurō x Reader

Genre: fluff

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurō x reader

Words: 1632

Warnings: none… well mentions of sounds that could be considered sexual right at the end.

A/N: So, this is the first story I’ve written in a while. I feel like it’s obvious that I’m not used to writing in 2nd person POV, and I might just stick to 1st or 3rd person in the future… We’ll see! Proofreading done by yours truly and the ever amazing @themoonlightfeather​, so if anythings up, it’s their fault ∩(︶▽︶)∩ this story can also be found on my Wattpad

"Did he hit his head in the last match or something?" Inouka asked, subtlety gesturing to their captain. Kuroo was standing in the middle of the gym with a ball in his hands, looking out the window.

"I don't know, but he’s been off all week." Yaku replied with a sigh. Off was an understatement. Kuroo always gave his all when it came to volleyball, but this week, his head had been anywhere but the game. His pregame mantra had gotten mixed up and confusing and his blocking had gotten so sloppy. So sloppy that even Lev had no trouble spiking right past him. The last straw for Kenma was when the middle blocker had gotten spiked right in the face by Yamamoto, during a 3 on 3.

The silence was deafening for a solid second, before Kuroo sat up. A groan left his mouth as he held his head in his hands. He already knew a bruise would form on his face. The sound of laughter coming from Lev and Yaku drowned Yamamoto's string of apologies.

"That might be enough practice for today." Coach Nekomata said as he sat down on one of the benches. "The gym is free for those who want to do individual practice as long as you clean up after yourselves. Make sure you stretch before going home."

"Kuroo, are you feeling okay? You've been acting weird lately." The setter asked as he looked down at his raven-haired teammate, not feeling like helping him up.

Behind them Yamamoto continued apologising. Fukunaga was by his side, giving him a comforting pat on the top of his head.

Kuroo took a breath and got off his ass. He took a few seconds before looking around and noticed that most of the team were looking at him. A light blush covered Kuroo’s cheeks as he cleared his throat.

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine. Great in fact! My head's just sorta been elsewhere the last few days." His hand had found its way to his neck where it now rested. "It's just, well... I- I got some exciting news earlier this week is all. Actually that reminds me-" he turned to look at the coaches "that I can't make it to practice tomorrow." Coach Naoi nodded with a puzzled look on his face as he noted it down on his clipboard.

“Well then. Let's get to stretching, shall we?” The captain said as if nothing had happened.

----

The cold air had turned most of the volley team into Rudolf the rednosed reindeer lookalikes. Even on an early December morning, they were lively and, much to Kuroo's annoyance, loud as ever. Since the practice where Kuroo got intimate with a ball, they had been nagging him about why he was skipping.

“Why won’t you tell us? Is it bad? Are you doing something illegal?” Lev asked for the 27th time in 5 minutes.

“That's for me to know and for you to wonder.” Kuroo replied, putting both hands behind his head as he laughed. The hot breath leaving his lips turned into white mist.

“Stop saying that, you sound suspicious… and stupid” Kenma mumbled into his scarf. Kuroo was about to object but thought better of it. He knew it would result in an endless argument back and forth, like always. Instead he continued laughing as the lot walked to school.

During class, it was obvious that something was preoccupying Kuroo’s mind. The teacher took notice but was nice enough to not call on him. After all he was always so active during class, she could let it slide once.

The bell signaling lunch snapped the Nekoma captain out of his trance-like state. He shot up from his desk and threw all his stuff into his bag. The teachers had been notified that he wouldn’t attend class for the rest of the day. As he walked down the hall, a few of his teammates caught up to him.

“You’re never gonna tell us, are you?” Yamamoto sighed.

“Nope.”

“Why though? What could be so important that you’d go through all this to keep it a secret?” Yaku chimed in.

“Look,” Kuroo stopped and sighed “it’s something personal and I’d rather not talk about it right now."

And with that he left school.

----

The drive from Kuroo’s house was about half an hour. Since it was the middle of the day, traffic was no problem. Kuroo parked the car as close to the terminal as he could, not wanting to have to walk too far with a bunch of stuff in his arms. He grabbed all the things from the boot of his car and looked at the time. Perfect timing. A slight warmth creeped onto his face as he grew more excited. He had waited for so long and the time was finally here.

The arrival lobby wasn’t as crowded as Kuroo had feared, making it easy for him to make himself noticeable. With a sign in one hand and a bouquet of roses in the other, he stood there, staring at the arrival exit.

In the blink of an eye it felt as if time slowed down, frozen almost. Kuroo felt his heart skip a beat, then speed up. Standing only a few meters in front of him was the most perfect being Kuroo had ever come to know. The smile that he would do anything to see. The eyes that he could stare at forever.

As your eyes met, you dropped your bags without a second thought, and charged at the tall man in front of you. He only just managed to put down the stuff he was holding before opening his arms to catch you.

The collision resulted in both of you falling to the ground, you on top with your boyfriends arms around you. Neither of you cared about the people starring in that moment. All that mattered was that you got to hold each other after being apart for so long. You nestled into his neck, breathing in through your nose to take in his scent. He did the same, resting his head on top of yours.

“I missed you.” You said after a little while, looking Kuroo in the eyes after pulling away.

“I missed you too. So much.” He said back, leaning in to steal a quick kiss from your lips.

When his lips left yours, you looked up to catch his eyes again, but noticed something on his face instead.

“Oh My God, what happened to your face?! How did you get that? Did I do that just now? I’m sorry!” You panicked, reaching up to inspect the bruise on his face. As you cupped his face, you felt his bigger, warmer hands cover yours. He leaned into your touch enjoying the feeling of your soft skin against his own.

“Don’t worry, it looks worse than it is. There was a little accident at practice.” He reassured you before continuing, this time with a smug face. “But I guess it sorta is your fault. I can't help that it's impossible to get you off my mind. Especially after you told me you could come visit for Christmas.”

You giggled at his accusation and looked at him while mirroring his expression.

“Aww I’m soooo sorry, you want me to kiss your booboo?”

He nodded with a grin, and you pressed a gentle kiss to his bruised cheek. You both got off the ground, fixing yourselves a bit, before picking up the things you dropped.

You turned around to face him again after getting your bag. As you did, you got a chance to read the sign that Kuroo now held again. “Welcome back from prison”

“...I hate you.” You said, before going in for another hug.

“Hey, I was being considerate you know. Could’ve written ‘Congrats on completing rehab’ or something.” Kuroo laughed and kissed the top of your head before guiding you towards the exit. “And besides, you started this whole thing so don’t get mad at me.”

You both laugh at the memory. Back when Kuroo came to visit you, you had made a sign for him as well and since then, it became a thing. Though through time it sort of escalated into madness, or as you liked to call it dorkness.

“Well, ‘I tried to think of a cute sign, but all I can think about is your cute face’ was funny and adorable. This is just bullying.” You fake-pouted. Kuroo put his arm around your shoulders as he laughed.

“You like it when I bully you though.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“Your wish is my command, Babe.”

---- BONUS ----

Kenma and the rest of the Nekoma Volleyball club were on their way home from practice. A few lampposts and the occasional light from the surrounding houses lit up the streets. The group of boys were talking about practice when Lev caught their attention.

“Hey, isn’t this Kuroo~senpai’s house?”

The other team members nodded, confused about why that seemed like news to the russian giant.

“The lights in his room are on. Look, you can see his silhouette!” He pointed excited.

“Lev, dumbass. Stop being a creep.” Yaku scolded, though he couldn’t help but look to where his Kouhai was pointing. And sure enough, there in the window stood a dark form with an unmistaken bedhead. But as they were all looking, a second, smaller figure appeared.

“Strange, his parents aren’t home tonight…” Kenma thought out loud.

As the team looked wondering at the window, the two figures moved closer, before melting to one. The group of boys all averted their eyes as one figure got pushed against the window. The muffled sound of a moan caused them to hastily move along, not wanting to know THAT much about their captain.

[keepmeinthedark]

To The Top || A Marauders Band AU

Chapter Two: You Gotta Not

Read here on A03

So Lily Evans brought a big asset to the band?

Only if you consider Remus Lupin to be a big asset, which I do.

Did Lily introduce them?

In time.

What happened in the meantime?

Before Remus joined the band there was just James, Sirius, and Frank. They lived together in this house called Maxwells house. It belonged to these twins Fabian and Gideon and they opened it up to anyone who needed a home. 

And what was Remus doing? What were you doing?

I was in Germany at the time, Remus was at university. But he had been friends with Lily since they were young and even though he was staying in a student accommodation he wasn't too far away for their friendship to change in any way.

//

Lily and Remus had spent New Year's Eve together. One of Remus' classmates held a party which they attended and stayed until the clock struck midnight. By the time they had made it back to his accommodation, it was three in the morning. They had both slept in Remus' bed without bothering to change their clothes or even take their make-up off, which then lead to one of the worst mornings in both of their lives.

It was eight in the morning when Remus's phone went off. He groaned when he saw his twin brother's name appear on the screen and held the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Re, where are you?"

"What do you mean?" he paused. "Am I supposed to be somewhere?"

He could practically feel Rom rolling his eyes. "You and Lily both promised Mum that you'd help with the fate. Remember? The fate? The one that Mum has been stressing over for weeks?"

Shit.

"Ohhh yeah, yeah I completely remember god who do you take me for? Yeah me and Lils are on our way now, well be like five minutes tops I promise." and with that, he quickly hung up.

Shit Shit Shit Shit.

"Lily come on, we have to go," Remus said quickly as he shook his best friend awake.

Lily only groaned as she lifted her head off the pillow, she watched Remus rush around the room to grab the makeup wipes and cleaned off the smudged eyeliner he still had on. 

Lily didn't wait for an explanation, she just got out of the bed and found her way towards the nearest hairbrush.  It wasn't until they were waiting for the bus that Lily had asked where they were going.

"My mum's thing, remember? We said we would help."

Lily didn't look like she remembered but she nodded anyway. 

 "How long do you think we'll be?" 

Remus shrugged, "No idea. Why? Got somewhere to be?"

Lily rolled her eyes, "Got a hangover to cure is more like it."

 They had gotten to the fate twenty minutes later and immediately regretted not faking a sickness to get out of it.

Hope Lupin was a powerhouse and an amazing mum, she was loving and caring, and gentle. But she was a single mum who had raised three boys and was in the middle of raising another, which made her incredibly scary when she was stressed.

"There you two are!" she exclaimed when she saw Remus and Lily making their way down the field where the fate was being held. "I was about to send Petunia off after you guys, honestly why are you so late?"

Remus panicked, "Headache," he said.

Hope placed her hands to her hips and raised an eyebrow, "Is headache code for a hangover?" 

They both nodded.

Hope sighed, "There's coke, bananas, and water in that tent over there. Go and tip half of the water out of a bottle, fill the rest with coke, drink that, and eat a banana. I don't have time for this." she told them, quickly adding, "Its a hangover remedy," after seeing their confused faces.

"Where was this remedy all the other times we've been hungover?" Lily asked, acting offended.

Hope shrugged, "You never asked." 

"Still could've been useful." 

"How am I supposed to know that you're hungover if you never tell me!?" Hope exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air and turning her back on them in order to do other things.

"You're Mum!" Remus yelled back. "You know everything!"

"Two minutes! Get a move on!" was all that Hope yelled back.

 As Hope had promised the flat coke and bananas had helped their hangovers but unfortunately didn't make them any more prepared for the long day ahead of them. Remus' parents had divorced three years ago when Lyall had admitted that he had fallen for someone else. Remus doubts that his parents have ever been in love. They had his older brother, Lycus when they were in their twenties and before they were married. They did get married not long after he was born and three years after that they had Romulus and Remus, the twins also weren't planned. Neither was Macca, Remus' younger brother who was only 2 years old at the time of the divorce. 

His father's new girlfriend didn't last very long and got intimidated by the fact that he had four sons. Romulus has always said that he was certain that there was no girl, to begin with, they had never met her and their dad wasn't exactly someone who had luck when it came to romance. Romulus swears that he made her up to use as an excuse to get a divorce. Lycus believes him. Remus doesn't. 

Hope and Lyall still remained close friends and the boys are allowed to stay with either one of them as much as they like, but they spend the majority of their time with Hope, or at least Lycus, Romulus, and Remus do. Macca, who is now five, spends Monday to Thursday with Hope and Friday to Sunday with Lyall in hopes that he will grow up to have a close relationship with both parents.

Remus had nothing against his father, he was a good dad and never failed to make Remus feel loved. But he wasn't yet out to his dad yet and wasn't sure if it would go well if he did come out to him. He likes to think that his dad would try to be supportive but still doesn't want anything to change between them. Not only that but he preferred his mum's cooking.

Lyall worked as a teacher for a primary school near where he lived and Hope owned her own florist in town but would always pop into the other shops there to see if they needed any help when she had the time, which is what led to her helping out with the local coffee shops fate in order to help raise money for cancer research. This wasn't the first time Hope had dragged her children out of their usual routines to stand in a field in the middle of winter and most certainly won't be the last. But they always came, Remus would never admit it but he quite enjoyed these things. Hope had always wanted to help with certain school and church events and Remus was proud to have a mum who was so loved in the community, even if she was scary when she got into her boss mode.

By the time Remus had finished their drinks and properly woke up, there was already a crowd of people going around each stall, Remus had seen Romulus surrounded by little kids. He called them over when he saw them.

"Remus! Lily! You two are captains get over here!"

"Oh bloody hell," Remus said under his breath, noticing the football that he had in his hands.

  Sirius felt like his figures were going to fall off. It was January 1st, who set up an outdoor event on January 1st.

They had only just got there and he already wanted to desperately go home, he didn't dream his parents irrelevant and leave his whole family behind at the age of 22 just to play in the freezing cold, but James had insisted that this would be worth it and he seemed so excited for every gig Sirius could never say no.

It was during their first set that Sirius had seen her.

She had been all that James had talked about since their gig at the pub on Christmas eve, he could recite her description by memory.

Dark red hair that reached her chest.

Emerald green eyes.

Plus size

A smile that glows.

Exactly a head smaller than James.

Two piercings in her ear lobe and one in her cartilage.

A tattoo of a small tattoo of a wolf behind her ear.

And she was wearing white Doc Martens.

Yep, that was her. It had to be, she ticked every box (apart from the tattoo as she was too far away for Sirius to get a proper look. But she looked like a girl that would have one.)

Sirius' heart leaped. James was going to be so excited, all he could talk about throughout Christmas was how much he regretted not asking for her Instagram. He had to tell him.

He was going to tell him.

He had it all planned. He was going to give James that smile that only James got, the one that said "I know something you don't know," James always got so excited at good news. 

Then he was going to ask James once more how Lily Evans looked, and James would go on a ramble, giving out as much information about this girl that he could remember. Then he would spin James around and point her out and knowing James he would probably scream. Sirius couldn't wait, he was a hopeless romantic after all.

As they went through each song he couldn't take his eyes off her, he had to make sure that he knew where she was when he told James. And he was going to tell him, he was certain of it.

That is, he was certain of it until he saw him.

Now that's a sight that he will never be able to get out of his head.

Short blond curly hair.

Tall.

Thin, yet still had a bit of muscle.

Crooked nose. 

Amber eyes.

And a large scar going across his face, from his right eye down through his nose and ending just before his lips.

God his lips!

As they played on Sirius began to notice more and more about this mystery boy. He seemed to be friendly with Lily, they were playing football with a group of kids and it was obvious that he was pretending to not be good for their sake. There was another boy with them who had similar features. Must be a brother, Sirius thought.

The boy was dressed in a Queen t-shirt, a white one with a long-sleeved black shirt underneath, and his jeans were ripped. He wore eyeliner, his nails were painted black and he had multiple rings on his figures.

Sirius had never been more turned on until he saw him take a five-minute break to smoke a cigarette.

Sirius could never date a smoker. James was enough trouble, Sirius had lost count on how many times he had told him that he ought to quit but he never listens. Smoking kills everyone knows this so why did some people think that by some miracle they could be the exception.

Sirius was about to give it all up then and there, make his eyes go back to following Lily around, or maybe even have his brain focus on what he was actually supposed to be going. But once the boy had put out his cigarette and rejoined the group of kids one of them had fallen over and hurt their knee. The boy crouched down to their level and talked to the boy until he laughed while Lily got a wet paper towel and a plaster.

Damit, Sirius thought. Why do guys with kids always have to be so damn attractive?

 For the rest of their set, the only thing Sirius could see was him.

He had forgotten all about Lily Evans until they had finished. When they had gotten off the stage James had been bouncing up and down. His smile was the widest he had ever seen it. 

"It's her," he said quickly.

"Whos her?" Frank asked, looking at the crowd confused.

"Her, her. That girl I met a the pub last week. She's here."

"Go talk to her then." And while you're at it get me her mate's number?

James began to pale, "I can't just go up and talk to her," he told them shaking his head. "What if she hates me?"

Frank raised an eyebrow, "Why would she hate you, I thought you hit it off?"

"We did!"

"So go talk to her!"

James looked at Lily and then back at Sirius and Frank. He had now started picking at his figure nails, slowly picking one off and throwing it onto the ground.

"What do I say?" He asked, desperately. 

Frank seemed very confident. "Mate, you've just played for the entire day she surly noticed that it was you at one point. She's probably begging for you to go and talk to her."

James looked confused, "Then why hasn't she come up to me?" His eyes suddenly widened. "What if she really isn't interested? I mean I know I didn't ask for her Snapchat or anything but she didn't ask for mine either!" he said in one breath. Sirius was sure he may faint if he thought anymore.

Both James and Sirius looked at Frank who rolled his eyes. "She's the girl. You're supposed to be the one to ask her out and make the first move. Most girls are scared to ask out guys cause guys suck." He said it as if it was the most obvious thing ever. "Just take a deep breath, channel your confidence, and swipe her off her feet. You've got this."

James took a breath and nodded before making his way towards Lily who was having a conversation with a much taller boy. He looked a bit like Sirius' mystery boy but older, taller, and with darker hair and no scar. Maybe another brother.

Sirius and Frank both watched James approached Lily in silence. They watched him ask to talk to her, Sirius didn't miss the smile that appeared across her face. Unfortunately said smile began to slowly disappear once James began talking and before anyone could realize that this was indeed a bad idea, Lily had slapped James across the face and had begun to walk in the other direction. 

James all but stomped back towards Sirius and Frank, his glasses had fallen to the tip of his nose and his face had gone nearly bright red, though Sirius couldn't tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. 

He mumbled a "Let's go" and grabbed all of his belongings before making his way towards the van. All Sirius and Frank could do was stare at each other in disbelief.

"This is why we don't leave him alone unsupervised," Sirius mumbled. 

[harry-styles-sunflower]

Wandering Hands Part 1

Hellooo everyone! I hope you are all having a lovely day! SO this is Part 1 of Wandering Hands. 

What it is: You and Harry become friends but you come with certain baggage that might make any other man run. 

Word count: 6.2k 

Warning: death and angst? (lmk if i forgot one!) 

Pls reblog if you like it :) Thanks in advance for the support! 

~~~

It was a long day after work and you had no one but yourself to worry about tonight. It was Friday, you were at Joe’s, the bar across your apartment. You’d come in regularly. Only about every other weekend. You were drinking your troubles away with a Manhattan. The bar wasn’t too full, it was only happy hour. You heard the bell ding behind you meaning someone walked in. Some man approached the bar as you finished your drink.

“Hello, can I get a glass of your most recommended wine?” You felt him look over at you, “and a refill on whatever she’s having” he paid Joe and sat a stool away from you.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to” you slid your glass away from you.

“No problem, I wanted to” you nodded and watched the tv. Joe served you your Manhattan and the man his wine. You knew it was a glass of his Château Cheval-Blanc because you had had it yourself once. 4 years ago.

“You know, I never understood baseball too much.”

You drank your drink and looked at him from the corner of your eye. Was he talking to you or Joe? You looked around you and you were the only one close enough to hear him and Joe was busy.

“It’s a good sport if you understand it” you shrugged.

“Care to explain it to me?” He moved to the stool next to you.

You swallowed your drink and looked at the screen. You had no interest in getting a good look at the man next to you anyway.

“English?”

“Precisely.”

“The Red Sox and Yankees played in London a few years ago.”

“Wasn’t home.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah”

“Well Um. 9 innings, 3 strikes you’re out. Guy on the circle in the middle? That’s called a mound. His position is a pitcher- “

“Isn’t that what you guys pour juice out of?”

“Yeah we use the same word for a lot of things, don’t interrupt,” he smiled at you, “he’s a pitcher. He throws to the guy across him, the catcher. Catcher signals him what kind of ball to throw in between his legs. He does it based off the batter’s weakness. There’re 4 bases. 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and home. When the batter hits it, he hopes no one in the outfield catches it or it gets out of park. If they catch it while it was in the air he’s out, if they catch it after it’s hit the ground he can run as fast as he can to whatever base is available. But like in order. Oh, also if someone in the outfield catches the ball, they’re gonna throw it to one of the basemen so they can tag the batter running. But if the batter touches the base before they’re tagged then they’re safe.”

He nodded along so you knew he was listening.

“Can I ask a question now?”

You nodded and sipped your drink.

“How do you know it’s a strike?”

“Oh, my bad. See the box on the screen? If it gets in there it’s a strike. Outside the box it’s a no ball but we usually just say ball.”

He nodded and gestured to your drink, “refill?”

“Oh no, I’m good. I need water” He ordered one for you and Joe gave you a knowing look and you just shook your head at him. You two were basically friends now. He’d gotten to know you over the past 4 years. You lived across the street for 5 but you came in 4 years ago. Joe came and gave you your water and you drank it slowly and watched the game. It was Yankees v. Red Sox. The Red Sox made a homer and you shook your head.

“Yankees fan?”

“Yep. We’re in New York. Kind of against the law to be anything else.”

He laughed and sipped his wine. He hadn’t drunken much, he gave you all his attention while you spoke. “My dad was a big Yankee fan. I’ve been one since the day I was born. My mom says she pushed me out and when the doctor put me in her arms the Yankees had won the game. We used to go to a game like every year when I was a kid.”

“Are they as fun as they seem?”

“Even better. During the commercials on tv, sometimes the outfield players play catch with the people on the side or they play a video of the players talking or play a game with the crowd”

“That’s pretty cool,” he put his hand in front of you, “I’m Harry by the way”. You looked at his hand and put yours in it and shook it.

“Y/n” you looked over at him. You finally took a good look at his face. He was gorgeous you couldn’t deny it. He had strong facial features. Short stubble and green eyes. They were bright. Different than your own dark eyes. He made eye contact with you for a few seconds before you turned back to the screen and drank your water.

“If you’re from England, are you here for business or pleasure?” It was New York, people came and went. Travelled. But in your small town about 30 minutes north from the city, no one really came through here unless they knew someone.

“I uh I’ve been here for about a year but I just moved to the area recently. Got a little tired of the city life, but didn’t want to be too far. I work as an editor at Simon & Schuster.”

“Wow. That’s a good job. Hell of a commute I assume?”

“About 1 hour every morning. It’s worth it. Sleep without the sound of horns or sirens”

“True.”

He turned on his stool to face you and you faced him. Your knees were touching.

“So, what do you do?”

“Teach. I’m a teacher. 7th grade social studies. Actually, I taught the Boston Tea party today” you smirked at him and put one arm up on the bar and leaned against your hand and one hand on your knee. Some fingers accidentally touched his knee but your knees were touching. You couldn’t prevent it from happening

“Ahh” he moved a pointed finger at you. You laughed and so did he. He had dimples. Cute. “Such a petty thing if you ask me” he shrugged.

You laughed and shook your head.

“A lot of history is petty.”

“Do you like teaching?” He put himself in the same position as you, his fingers brushing yours too.

“I guess. I love my kids and filling their minds with knowledge but the standards and requirements are a pain in the ass”

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard about that. Not too much freedom”

“Yeah. Like if I want to take them to a museum, I need to find a standard that validates that museum will teach them according to that standard”

“Wow. The museums here are basically free too right?”

“Yep.”

He shakes his head and sips his drink.

“It’s been like an hour and you’re still drinking your wine”

“Well Ms. Judgey, it’s a good wine. I’m savoring it.”

“It is good. I’ve had it. And I’m not judgey. I was just saying it must be warm now.”

“Eh. It’s still chill. Thanks for caring though” he grinned at you.

You rolled your eyes and finished your water.

“When did you have it?”

“Huh?”

“The wine”

“Oh, um four years ago”

“That’s precise”

“It was on an anniversary of something.”

“Wedding anniversary?” He laughed.

“Death anniversary actually.” His face stilled and he became pale.

“Shit I’m so sorry for laughing.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

“Shouldn’t have assumed.”

You saw him looking at you like he wanted to know who it was but would never dare to ask. You debated telling him. You turned back towards the screen, leaving his knees cold. He felt he had lost any chance he thought he had with you. He liked talking to you.

“Joe, jack and coke please”

He nodded and brought it to you. You chugged it down. Harry put his head in his hands. He had driven you to drink. Yikes.

“It was my husband. He died.”

He lifted his head from his hands and looked over at you. You were a widow. You looked so young. He felt bad you had to go through such pain.

“I’m sorry for your loss”

“Thanks. It was 5 years ago. I’m alright”

He nodded. Too scared to say the wrong thing.

“He was in the service. Died in Iraq.”

“Oh wow…” he was surprised you were opening up to him. Perhaps it was the liquid courage.

“Came with the territory, I guess. We were together for 10 years. Married for 5. Widowed for 5 now. If you’re trying to do the math we were high school sweethearts. Started at 15. Married at 20. He died at 25. Yes, I’m 30.” You drank your leftover water.

“Erm… Wow. Well you look good” he was nervous.

You laughed lightly and said thanks.

“Guess I scared you away now didn’t I?”

“No no! Not at all I just don’t want to fuck up and say the wrong thing.”

“Harry it’s been 5 years I’m good. I’m religious, I coped well”

“Oh okay.”

“Stop being nervous!” You laughed.

“I can’t help it!” He laughed lightly.

“I’ve got a big curveball for you,” you turned to face him and you put your hands on his shoulders as he faced you.

“I see what you did there. Curveball” he tilted his head toward the tv.

“Ooh yeah. I didn’t even notice. Well are you ready?”

“I think?”

“I have a son.”

It was what he thought. Didn’t know if he fully expected it though.

“Okay. Curveball caught? Strike? What’s the big deal?”

“Wait what? You’re not thrown off?” You were shocked. His face barely twitched or showed any surprised expression.  

“No?” He shrugged. “It’s a child. I guess I kind of expected maybe something after you said you were together for 10 years.” He finished his wine.

“Fair enough.”

“So, where is he? If you’re here”

“In-laws. They take him every other weekend. Or just from Friday till Saturday.”

“You get along with them?”

You shrugged. “I think they thought I wanted him to sign up for the force. I didn’t. Obviously. It’s a death sentence. I just wanted to support my boyfriend at the time,” He nodded as you spoke, “but they love Sam and are always there for him”

“Sam huh?”

“Samuel. He’s 7”

“Good age”

“Yeah. He’s a lil sarcastic but I blame myself. I could be that way so he’s only doing what he’s learned. But he’s really smart. He’s obsessed with rocks. Been that way since he could walk”

“That’s cute I won’t lie”

“Thanks” you laughed. You liked his company. He was easy to talk to. You had found it easy to open up. He didn’t seem creepy either. Like he just wanted to get in your pants.

“Well it’s been lovely boys, but I have a little boy I have to be up for in the morning. His grandma wants to have brunch”

You stood up and so did Harry.

“Wait let me walk you to your car.”

You lived across the street but he didn’t have to know that. Joe hid his smile when you said “okay”. Harry paid Joe for both of your tabs and walked out with you. It wasn’t too late, 6 pm. You walked to your car and his was coincidentally in front of yours.

“So um. It was nice meeting you. I enjoyed your company”

You fiddled with your keys and looked up at him.

“Yeah I did too.” you said.

“Would it be too forward if I asked for your number?” he was biting the inside of his cheek, you could tell.

Guys had hit on you before. But the wounds were too fresh and Sam was too young. He’s still young but he’s smart, and he knows some days you feel lonely. As much as you convinced him that he was the only man you needed he knew the truth. You liked his company and conversations. So, you said,

“I don’t think so,” you held your hand out for his phone and he placed it in your hand. You put your number in as “y/n 🥃🍷”. Ball was in his court now.

“Cute” you both laughed.

“I’ll text you” he said

“Mhm” yeah. Sure.

“Are you gonna get in your car?”

“Oh, it’s fine you don’t have to wait” please don’t make me get in my car. I live here.  

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t wait until you at least got in to your car?”

Okay you were a little impressed. Fair enough.

“Very true actually. Well bye, Harry”

“Nuh uh. It’s see you soon. I’m serious about texting you”

“Okay” you laughed and got in your car.

He got in his and you waited for him to pull out.

 Once he was past the traffic light you got out and went up to your apartment. You called Sam’s grandma the second you got in. He picked up with an ecstatic voice.

“Hi ma!”

“Hi baby, how are you? Everything okay?”

“Yeah! We’re bowling. I’ve gotten 2 strikes!”

“Oh wow. Look at you!”

“Grandpa says dad was good at bowling”

Your heart broke just a little. It bothered you a little when they spoke about him to Sam. You knew he was their son but they didn’t know how much Sam cried sometimes wishing he got to know his dad. You only spoke about him when Sam asked about him or mentioned him.

“Yeah he was actually. When we were younger, we went on a date and he won one round and I won the other. But we were too broke to buy another round so we left it a tie” you laughed at the memory. Just 15-year-old kids.

“You were broken?”

“No sorry hon, I mean we didn’t have enough money to pay for another round”

“Ohh okay.” You forgot sometimes Sam was only seven because he was so smart sometimes.

“Yeah. Well can you put your grandma on for me hon?”

“Yeah okay. I can stay over?”

“Yeah of course. As long as you want to and don’t feel forced to okay?” You knew sometimes he didn’t want to because of how much they spoke about his dad. On those weekends you faked he had a tummy ache.

“Yeah okay. Here’s grandma” he passed the phone to your in-law. You could never say ex. Your husband wasn’t an ex.

“Hello?” Her tone was already unwelcoming.

“Hey, just wanted to confirm we’re still on for 11?”

“Yeah. I haven’t cancelled.” Translation: did I tell you we weren’t going?

“Okay. Sounds great. See you there”

“Okay” she hung up.

“Yeah okay bye. Geez” you slammed your phone on the table and rubbed your temples. She was always so rude to you. When he died, she said it was your fault he left. She apologized for that but it was still something she said. You can’t take words back. You left your phone on the table and went to shower. You just wanted to take a warm shower, relax your muscles, wear some cozy pajamas, drink some tea, and watch friends until you fell asleep. Friends never did you wrong. So that’s what you did. You remember to set your alarm for tomorrow but you also remembered you left your phone on your kitchen table. With a groan because you found the position and you knew you wouldn’t find it again, you got up and got your phone. You saw you had a text from a random number. When you unlocked your phone, the message said

H: Hey, it’s Harry.

You felt bad for making him wait but whatever.

Y/n: hey

You got back into bed, not finding the position again and kept your phone next to you. Your phone lit up about a minute or two later.

H: what’s up? Did you get home safe?

Y/n: oh yeah. Thanks. You?

H: Yeah, I did thanks. So, what’s up?

Y/n: watching friends, you?

H: Same actually. Nick@nite?

Y/n: Yup 😂

H: I’m happy they play this. Especially since Netflix took friends off.

Y/n: Same. Friends is like my bedtime story now. I watch it every night

H: favorite character?

Y/n: I think it depends the season? Like I love Ross in season 9 and I love the rest. I couldn’t pick

H: I agree.

H: Would you want to FaceTime?

You thought about it. Did you want to?

H: We don’t have to if you don’t want to. (Sorry for the spam of messages btw)

You laughed at the last bit.

Y/n: we can FaceTime :)

“Harry would like FaceTime…” you slid your finger across the screen.

“Hello”

“Hey” he smiled into the camera.      

“You look cozy” he was wearing a brown robe thing w a hood from what you could see.

“Ooh I am,” he looked up at the tv, “why are birth control commercials so odd?”

They were playing a commercial for lo loestrin fe and the cartoon bought what was supposed to be lingerie and was showing her boyfriend you assume.

“I hated that pill. It was the worst one I’ve ever tried”

“Really?”

“Yeah it made me gain weight and tons of acne”

“It sucks that all that comes with just trying to prevent pregnancy”

“Yeah. You males have it so lucky”

“Well if they came out with a male one, I’d take it”

You laughed a little too loud.

“You think you’d be able to remember?”

“I’d just take it in the morning. Like a vitamin”

You noticed the way he pronounced vitamin. It was a little different. Cute different.

“I used to take mine at night, just before bed. It was easier that way for me”

He nodded at you and the show had come back. You think that maybe that whole conversation was TMI for your first FaceTime call. The episode The One in Barbados. You both laughed at Monica’s hair.

“Kind of didn’t like the whole Joey and Rachel plot line” He said while looking at the tv screen. It was like you guys were together in the same room and his company was nice on this lonely night.

“Yeah same. It was wack” he laughed at that.

“I think I love phoebe”

“Same, Regina Phalange”

“It’s actually princess consuela bananahammock.” He said with a straight face. You cracked up at his little joke and kept watching the tv.

 A few hours later and friends was over. You and Harry were basically playing 21 questions.

“any pets?” You asked.

“Nah, I work too long” you nodded.

“Favorite flower?”

“Sunflowers or tulips”

“Interesting choices”

“Thank you” you smiled. You were now in bed laying down against your pillow, “do you live in a house?”

“Yeah. Small but yeah”

“I used to, but a year after he died, I had to sell it. I like the small space better. It’s more homelike for just us 2”

He nodded and listened. “What time is lunch with your in law?”

You liked how he didn’t say ex in laws. It was a small thing but you noticed.

“11:00”

“Oh okay”

“Yeah”

“Y/n, um. I’d like to take you out. On a proper date. But I know you’re probably really busy. So, um do you think you could let me know when you’re free? If you wanted to go out on a date with me that is”

“Yeah sure” you bit back your smile. You had never done this before. Well not after your husband. It would be your first date in 5 years. You just got a good feeling from Harry.

“Oh okay” he was a little shocked.

“If not this week, then the next. Maybe Friday”

“Yeah that’s good with me”

“Well uh, I’m gonna go to sleep Harry. It was nice meeting you today”

“Yeah it was for me too, meeting you. Goodnight. Sweet dreams”

“Yeah thank you. Goodnight” you smiled and hung up. You felt giddy and happy. You looked at your bedside table and it was a picture of you on your wedding day staring back at you. You knew he would want you to move on already. You smiled and contently fell asleep.

~~~

You woke up around 9:45 to give yourself enough time to get ready. It was nice being able to sleep in a bit. Sam was always up by 8. You remembered your conversation with Harry last night. You haven't had a conversation like that in years. You'd just recently decided that you'd be open for a relationship but you weren't on any dating apps or anything either. Going with the flow you guess. You got ready quickly and drove to the restaurant where you were meeting your boy and your in-laws. You stepped out your car and so did they. Sam looked around before running to you. You opened your arms for him and he hugged you tight.

"Ugh my baby I missed you so much last night!" you kissed his forehead.

"I missed you too ma," he kissed your cheek.

You picked him up and spun him around making you both giggle.

"y/n", your mother in law said.

"Lydia, how are you?" She held her purse in front of her as you put Sam down.

"I'm good, you?"

"Good."

Your father in law approached you. He was quieter and more reserved. The loss of his son hit him hard. The two were close. He did watch out for you a bit more than Lydia. Lydia's priority was Sam, William's priorities were you and Sam.

"Hi William, how are you?"

He gave you a hug and you guys walked into the restaurant.

"I'm good. How are you?"

"Good, thank you."

You guys got settled into a booth and you already knew what you all wanted. This wasn’t the first time.

"Sam told me his science teacher is being hard on him," Lydia spoke without looking away from you. She was looking at your clothes and makeup. Seeing if it was up to her standards.

"Yes, he told me too. I already told him what to do."

"And what was that?" Here we go. Here's the thing. Lydia was your husband's mother. When he passed, she wanted to be her grandson's mother as well.

You held in a sigh before speaking. "I told him to work hard during school but if she specifically targets him repeatedly to let me know and I'll handle it."

She nodded and stayed quiet. Thank God.

"Mami, your phone vibrated," Also, your husband was Italian. You were Hispanic so you were trying to teach Sam some of his Hispanic side as his grandparents taught him mostly his Italian side. They more so taught him stuff about the culture and food, but none of the language. They swore they knew it but you've never heard them speak it.

"Thank you for letting me know mijo, but since we're all together I'll check it later." you kissed his head.

You and your husband had done a good job. He was a perfect mix from both of you. He had brown curly hair, like you. Hazel eyes like his dad. Dark eyelashes like you. A button nose like his dad that was covered in freckles like yours. Plump lips like the both of you. The food came and you all began eating.

"We wanted to talk to you about something." you felt Sam put his hand on your knee. Uh oh. He was preparing you for something he knew you may not like.

"Okay, what is it?"

William spoke up, "Well, winter break is coming up and we wanted to take Sam away for a week."

You almost choked on your food. A week? Them? With your son? Were they insane? Okay maybe you were being a little dramatic but what?!

"Um, where?" you tried to seem open about the idea.

"Blue mountain. We would go snow tubing and other things in the snow." Lydia said.

"For a week? Snow tubing for a week? That sounds more like a weekend thing to me." you ate your eggs.

"Well we would look in the town for other things to do obviously," Lydia snickered like you had sounded ridiculous. She better not start with an attitude you thought. She was asking you for a favor not the other way around. So instead of giving her a direct answer, you said "I'll think about it." You needed to talk to Sam if this was something he wanted to do or they wanted to do.

You guys had finished eating and you all eventually said goodbye. Sam wanted to come back home instead of staying Sunday. Sometimes he just wanted extra time with you.

~~~

You were driving home from unsuccessful shoe shopping when you heard Sam's little voice come from the backseat.

"Are you mad?"

"No, I'm not mad. Why would you say that?"

"Because grandma was kind of rude to you when you said it wasn't a week long thing." Every year he became more observant.

"Well I mean I didn't like that but I'm not mad. I don't let your grandmother ruin my mood."

"Okay"

"Do you wanna go?"

"I don’t know… I do but not for a week. That's too long away from you."

Your heart warmed a little and you nodded. "I'd feel that way too."

"Did dad like snow tubing?"

"I'm not sure bud, we never went"

"Oh."

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't go. I went when I was younger with my mom and sister, we made it a girl's trip. It was a lot of fun."

"Really? What if we went just us two?"

"Hm I don’t know bud; I think your grandparents might get sad. I think I can tell them it will only have to be for a weekend and then you and I could go another time. Just us two."

"Umm okay that sounds good. I agree."

"Good." you pulled in front of your building.

"What was dad's favorite season?"

"Fall. He hated the heat, but he hated being too cold. And he'd get the worst allergies in the spring and he had this weird pet peeve for sneezing. It was kind of funny seeing him get frustrated though. He would look like he wanted to rip his nose off." You held his hand as you walked inside. He giggled at what you said. When you both got inside to your apartment you both took off your shoes and sweaters. You had a picture of your husband on a small table by your entrance. Every time you walked in Sam would say "Hi dad!" to it. He asked if he could watch some Disney XD for a bit and you said it was fine. You were going to make some dinner. You checked your phone and saw Harry had texted you. You were a little shocked he kept up with talking to you.

H: Hey, good afternoon. I hope brunch went well :)

y/n: Hey it did, I guess.

H: You guess?

y/n: Eh they want something, felt like a setup?

H: Ah. I get what you mean. Sorry it happened.

y/n: It's alright. I got my boy back so I'm happy.

H: Good. I'd love to meet him someday to be honest. He sounds adorable.

You thought about his text. How would Sam react? He's always saying for you to get a friend but what would happen when you actually did? It made you nervous to think about. You felt your phone vibrate again.

H: Uh sorry if that was too forward.

y/n: No, its fine. It was sweet.

H: Okay good.

"Ma?"

You jumped up slightly like you had been caught doing something bad.

"Who are you texting? You never text this much" he was grinning at you. He was happy?

"Um none ya beeswax"

"It is my beeswax when it's taking time away from you cooking my dinner," you gave him a warning look. Dang smart ass. Gets it from you. He mumbled a "Sorry" and sat up on the stool and leaned on your countertop.

"I made a friend that’s all okay?"

"A guy friend?" he smirked.

You turned to get a pot. "Mhm"

"What's his name?"

"Harry."

"I like that name."

"You would like any name if it meant I had a friend."

He giggled and nodded. "Does he know about me?"

"Of course he does. You think I could not talk about you?"

"Okay okay," he blushed slightly, "Is he nice?"

"Yeah he's pretty nice."

"Are you gonna go on a date?"

"Samuel! He's a friend!" you playfully yelled at him.

"Mom I'm not 5, I know you might want a little BOYfriend"

"Sam you are 7, and how do you even know what a boyfriend is." you were talking to him as you gathered all your ingredients.

"Grandma told me about boyfriends and girlfriends"

"Now what is she doing telling you about that?" you looked at him.

"Well we saw a couple at the bowling alley and they kissed and I said ew and she said it’s because they were boyfriend and girlfriend so she explained what that meant to me."

"Hm, okay." you trusted she gave him a good and appropriate definition.

"Do you have a picture of him?"

"We just met yesterday" you say as you open and close cabinets.

"Does he like baseball?"

"I actually had to explain the sport to him. He's not from here." you started cooking.

"Where's he from? Is he from where dad used to work?"

"No, way off. He's from a place called England."

"Where the Beatles are from!"

"Exactly," you smiled at him. He was a classic soul.

“That’s cool”

“Yeah his voice is different too”  

“I wanna meet him” he put his chin in his palm, “It’d be nice to be around another guy that isn’t grandpa.”

“He uh actually said he wants to meet you too but I think we should wait a bit. I think I should get to know him better before you meet him” You stir your pasta in the pot.

“Okay” he tapped your phone screen, “he texted you”

“Thanks, nosey” you took your phone and read his message. You had forgotten to respond.

Y/n: hey sorry was cooking dinner for the hungry boy and I

H: it’s alright. What’s on the menu?

Y/n: pasta. Penne ala vodka with some shrimp. Probably some garlic bread too. Lazy meal

H: lazy? sounds glorious.

You laughed as you texted.

“Oooh he’s making you laugh!” Sam giggled.

You covered your face and told him to go to his room to make sure he had done his homework. Tomorrow you were going to Chuck E Cheese so he wouldn’t have time to do it then.

Y/n: we’ll see how it tastes

H: do you like to cook?

Y/n: I do but I run out of things to cook so I get bored

H: yeah same. I like to experiment though.

You were feeling a little confident and flirtatious

Y/n: maybe you could show me sometime

H: yeah. That’d be fine with me 😊

You bit your lip unsure of what to say. It had been a while since you were back on the flirting scene. You felt your phone vibrate again.

H: are you vegetarian or anything? Gonna think of some ideas from now.

Y/n: I don’t follow any specific diet but I definitely don’t eat a lot of meat. More of a seafood person.

H: gotcha ;)

Y/n: ;)?

H: don’t like it?

Y/n: eh it’s alright 🤷🏻‍♀️

H: alright?

Y/n: mhmm

H: you’re teasing me, aren’t you?

Y/n: just a lil bit 🤏🏻

H: 😂😂

You finished up cooking dinner and called Sam. He came down quickly and mumbled a small yum.

Y/n: I’ll talk to you later. Gonna eat now.

H: okay 🥰

You served you and Sam plates and you both ate quietly as you watched some tv. You would say you were pretty lenient with Sam. He was very mature for his age and he respected you greatly. He barely gave you a hard time. You think he got that from his dad. His dad always wanted to please you any chance he got.

“Mami, can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

“How come, hon?”

“It’s comfier” you laughed at this because you would say the same thing to your parents when you were younger.

“Okay. But you know you can’t always sleep in Mami’s bed. You gotta sleep in your own some nights.”

“Yeah I know,” he smiled at you.

“Alright. Well can I trust you’ll bathe yourself good tonight? I don’t have to help you?”

“Yes ma, I’ll remember to wash myself good.”

“Okay, remember to get in between your toes and everything”

He nodded at you. You two finished your plates and you sent him off to shower. He kept the door open just in case he needed your help opening one of the bottles. You remembered the first bath you ever gave him. He was so much smaller compared to now and his dad kept complaining about how slippery he was. You were only 23 with a new job and new home but you were both so happy with your little boy. You cleaned up the kitchen and went up to bed where your little boy was already waiting. He had turned on the tv and was watching friends. You showered quickly before getting in bed with him. He cuddled up to your side and laid his head on your chest. You massaged your fingers into his damp curls until you heard him snore lightly. You fixed him onto your other pillow and fell asleep on yours.

~~~

The weekend had ended and you hadn’t heard from Harry. That was before you remembered you were the one who hadn’t answered. It was now Monday afternoon and you were picking up Sam from school. You worked at a middle school just a block away. Sam hopped into your car and told you about his day.

"Can I go to Justin's house tomorrow afterschool?"

"Is Justin's parents okay with this?"

"Yeah, we'll do our homework first too!"

"Alright, you better do it because when you get home I'm checking it all"

"Okay!"

You guys walked into your apartment and Sam went up to shower. That was the routine after school. He showers while you make a snack, after that he comes down and eats while you shower, you grade papers while he does homework, and then if he's done you let him watch some Disney channel while you make dinner. This is exactly how your evening rolls out and you decide to text Harry.

y/n: hey sorry. Busy day yesterday. You wanted me to let you know when I was free and I'm free tomorrow after 3...

You stop typing, "Sam, until when are staying at Justin's?"

"Until like 6? He said his mom was gonna cook"

"Okay," you continue typing,

y/n: Hey sorry. Busy day yesterday. You wanted me to let you know when I was free and I'm free tomorrow after 3 until like 6. I know its late notice so no worries if you're not free too.

You finish cooking, eating, and cleaning and you still hadn't heard from Harry. He was probably mad at you now. You sighed aloud and thought well it was nice while it lasted. You went over Sam's homework with him and then made sure he brushed his teeth before bed. You tucked him in and gave him a kiss on his forehead.

"Goodnight my love," you pushed his hair back off his forehead.

"Goodnight mami, goodnight dad" he blows a kiss toward the picture of him and his dad on his bedside table.

You walked out his room leaving his door ajar and walked down to your room. You grab your book and climb into bed. It was the book from Jane the Virgin. You related to Jane in multiple ways. As you were becoming a part of the fictitious world of the character Josephine you felt your phone vibrate.

H: Banzai, 3:30pm, Be there or be square.

You smiled at his assertiveness. It was kind of cute.

H: If that's okay with you.

y/n: Yes, that's fine lol😂😂

He could never be too serious you thought.

H: watching friends?

y/n: actually reading.

H: what are you reading?

y/n: snow falling, it’s from a show and stuff.

H: look at the publishing company

You looked and sure enough it was Simon & Schuster. Wow.

y/n: Wow lol, I never noticed.

H: I've read it, it's pretty good. More of a girly book, I think.

Y/n: I can’t imagine you reading this tbh.

H: it was a hard manuscript to get through. Kept me on my toes.

You continued texting and before you knew it, it was 2 in the morning.

y/n: wow its 2am.

H: I know. Time flew. You're so easy to talk to.

y/n: I could say the same about you.

H: I'm excited for later

y/n: so am I, free food.

H:😐😐😐

y/n: I'm joking!

H: sure you are.

y/n: I am, I'm excited too because I miss your company, its nice.

H: I don't have a company

y/n: Harry

H: okay okay, thank you. Get some rest, you've gotta be up early.

y/n: true, see you later! 😊

H: see you🥰

~~~

Part two is up now!

[caye-otome-translations]

100 Days Princess Event - Royal Prince Stage Episode 02 (Translated)

Quick Links:

Events Page

Prologue

Previous: Episode 01

Next: Episode 03

Byron Wagner’s Route

Giles Christophe’s Route

Louis Howard’s Route Episode 02 Part 01/05

MC: “Louis received an offer for a movie role.”

Louis: “Movie…?”

MC: “And it’s the lead!”

Louis: “Which movie?”

MC: “The title hasn’t been decided on yet, but it’s a school mystery.”

(That reminds me, didn’t I ask them to email me the proposal earlier…?)

I brought up the proposal on my phone and looked at the screen with Louis and Byron-san.

Louis: “That director…I’ve heard of his name before.”

Byron: “Aah, I know him too.”

Byron: “He’s a well-known director who has won several awards.”

MC: “If this movie is made by such a director, your reputation should rise significantly just from making an appearance.”

Louis: “That’s true… it’s an amazing offer.”

(I think this movie is vital to Louis’ future career. But…)

Louis: “But I never acted before.” *Top Left Picture*

MC: “…Yeah, that’s the problem.”

Louis has never acted.

(Wouldn’t this be the first time he has ever starred in a movie…?)

Byron: “He is also famous for his strict acting guidance.”

Byron: “If you have no experience, you won’t be allowed any lenience.”

At Byron-san’s words, Louis’ expression turned thoughtful.

Louis: “…MC, do you think I should accept?”

MC: “Yes. I won’t force you to do it, but it will definitely be a good opportunity to raise your reputation.”

MC: “Plus—”

I was going to say something else, but I closed my mouth.

(It’s my own opinion, so I shouldn’t say it out loud…)

When I held back the words I was going to say, Louis blinked.

Louis: “…What is it?”

MC: “Oh…I would also like to see Louis on screen.”

Louis: “Is that your opinion as my agent?”

Louis: “Or…your opinion as my girlfriend?” *Top Right Picture*

Louis Howard’s Route Episode 02 Part 02/05

Louis: “Or…your opinion as my girlfriend?”

MC: “As…your girlfriend.”

Louis: “…Then I’ll do it.”

My heartbeat pounded in response to the sweet smile that spread across Louis’ lips.

…Like Byron-san and some others already knew, we were in a secret love affair.

Byron: “Howard, do you think it’s worth the challenge?” *1st Middle Left Picture*

Louis: “Of course.”

MC: “Ah…but you don’t have to make a decision right away. You should think about it some more.”

Louis: “If you say so.”

When the conversation was over, the staff arrived to call for them and we went our separate ways.

***

That night…

When Louis and I went home together because our houses were close to each other,

he told me to stop by the park that was on the way.

MC: “There’s no one here.”

Louis: “Yes…we can talk freely here.”

Since the park that was usually crowded in the daytime was now empty,

Louis, who was a popular idol, could relax without having to worry about the public eye.

(We always come to the park when there is something one of us wants to talk about…)

When I sat next to Louis on the bench, my cold hand was wrapped in his warm hand.

MC: “Louis…?”

Louis: “I couldn’t touch you even though I was by your side all day.” *1st Middle Right Picture*

Louis: “Forgive me for this.”

Our fingers were entwined together, not leaving any space as we held hands.

(Louis’ hand is warm…)

When I loosened my grip on his hand, Louis leaned into my shoulder to share his warmth.

Louis: “MC…I want to talk about the movie, I’ll take the offer.”

MC: “You still have time to think about it, are you sure?”

Louis: “Yes. My answer won’t change even if I take the time to think about it.”

(It certainly would be a waste to decline the offer…)

MC: “Louis, aren’t you overdoing it…?”

MC: “I’m sure it’ll be difficult to suddenly star in your first movie.”

Louis: “Even so, I’ll do my best.”

Louis: “…I know I can do my best if you are there with me.”

Louis smiled softly, gently lifting my hand…

Louis Howard’s Route Episode 02 Part 03/05

MC: “Louis, aren’t you overdoing it…?”

MC: “I’m sure it’ll be difficult to suddenly star in your first movie.”

Louis: “Even so, I’ll do my best.”

Louis: “…I know I can do my best if you are there with me.” *2nd Middle Left Picture*

Louis smiled softly, gently lifting my hand…

MC: “Ah…”

He placed a kiss on my hand, just barely touching it.

MC: “What was that kiss for just now…?”

Louis: “It’s a kiss asking you to support me.”

Louis flipped my hand over and pressed his lips against my palm.

MC: “…”

Louis: “Will you cheer me on?” *2nd Middle Right Picture*

MC: “Of course.”

(As your agent and your girlfriend…)

MC: “It’s my job to support Louis.”

Louis: “Thank you. …That’s reassuring.”

(I’m sure he’ll be busy from now on, but I want to do my best for Louis.)

I squeezed Louis’ hand as we smiled under the street lights.

***

A few weeks after accepting the movie role…

Today I accompanied him to the first read through of the movie script,

where I was holding my breath as I watched Louis in the corner of the conference room.

Louis: “‘It’s most likely that this incident is no accident. Seniors, split up—”

Director: “Stop, start over.”

Louis: “Okay.”

(Louis…it looks like he is having a hard time.)

No matter how many times he read the lines, the director didn’t look happy.

Louis had spent all of his spare time today practicing hard.

(I don’t think he sounds bad…but could he be still missing something?)

Director: “It’s just…not the right image.”

Louis: “It’s…the image?”

Director: “Yes. Go read the script more and get a feel for the role before next rehearsal.”

Director: “If you still can’t get it right, I’ll have to change actors.”

Louis: “…Got it.”

(It’s tougher than we expected…)

Louis Howard’s Route Episode 02 Part 04/05

(It’s tougher than we expected…)

Under the tense atmosphere, Louis began to read his lines again as asked by the director.

***

By the time the read through of the script was finally over, the color of the sun had changed.

The director and other related parties left the room, leaving us alone.

MC: “Good job, Louis. I brought you a drink.”

Louis: “Thank you.”

After he received the cold drink, Louis immediately turned his attention back to the script.

(There’s a lot of bright red writing.)

(Is this everything the director told him…?)

When I pulled out a chair and sat down next to him, Louis looked up from the script.

Louis: “Acting is really difficult after all.” *3rd Middle Left Picture*

Louis: “I must practice more…” *3rd Middle Right Picture*

(Louis…)

Louis' eyes were filled with determination as he stared at me, and it didn’t seem like he was going to give up.

The sight overlapped with a memory of Louis at the time of his debut.

MC: “Do you remember…?”

Louis: “What?”

MC: “When Louis was just starting out as a member of an idol group…”

MC: “And you practiced your dancing without telling the other members?”

Louis: “…I still remember.”

MC: “I can never forget.”

(It was the reason I fell in love with Louis…)

“Wysteria Quintent,”

the national idol group that Louis was a member of,

enabled him to be on stage many times since his debut.

(I thought Louis was good at singing and dancing from the start…)

(But that actually wasn’t the case.)

After a rehearsal of a “WQ” concert a few years ago,

when I came back to get something I had forgotten, I found Louis dancing there…

-flashback-

MC: “Louis, what are you doing…?”

Louis: “…!”

Louis Howard’s Route Episode 02 Part 05/05

After a rehearsal of a “WQ” concert a few years ago,

when I came back to get something I had forgotten, I found Louis dancing there…

-flashback-

MC: “Louis, what are you doing…?”

Louis: “…!”

When Louis noticed me, he looked down awkwardly.

MC: “I’m guessing dance practice?”

Louis: “Yes. I’m not good at dancing…”

MC: “I didn’t know…do you always stay here late to practice?”

Louis: “I won’t be able to dance well if I don’t practice.” *Bottom Left Picture*

MC: “I see…”

MC: “Louis, can I tag along to your dance practices?”

Louis: “But they’re late at night.”

MC: “Even so, if Louis is trying his best, I want to do our best together.”

MC: “I’m not sure what good I can do, but I want to help as Louis’ agent.”

Louis: “…Thank you.”

Louis: “I’m going to have to do my best to not show you anything that looks bad then.” *Bottom Right Picture*

-flashback ends-

(The Louis I know is a hard worker…and can overcome any difficulties.)

From that day on, I gradually became attracted to Louis as he worked hard on everything he did.

(Even now, I’m sure Louis will do just fine. But…)