#I do remember those days but I am not nostalgic for them at all

[teledild0nix]

i see way way way more posts yelling about how wrong it is to tell middle aged women that they’re too old for fandom or tumblr than I see people saying anything of the sort to middle aged women. Like I’m 36 and I’ve never had anyone tell me I’m too old to be here 🤷🏽‍♂️

[tealfloyd]

ANONYMOUS REQUESTED:

"Okay, okay! Hear me out on this: An MC who gifts every boy and the staff (minus Crowley) a specially made gift (alongside chocolate ofc) for Valentine's Day. For example, Riddle gets a bouquet of roses alongside heart-shaped chocolate, Ace getting a chocolate cherry pie and a watch, and Cater gets a skateboard and spicy chocolate.

I can just imagine the chaos that will ensue.

"Hey! Your chocolate is bigger than mine!"

"No fair! I wanted that too!"

Thank you and have a great day!"

AN UNTYPICAL VALENTINE’S

“Congratulations, MC. You have now become the Santa of Valentine’s Day!”

SUMMARY: It's Valentine's Day in Twisted Wonderland, and you already know what that means: a mix of chocolates and petty discussions~! (Everyone x Fem!Reader)

WARNINGS: None... Other than MC’s empty wallet.

CONTENT: Ortho doesn’t have a section, but his reaction is described in the introduction. Me trying to understand these boys and their past, so they might seem a little ooc. Also Lilia’s part may have end up a little too philosophical. 

A/N: Okay okay. I know Valentine’s was five months ago, and that I was in an unexpected hiatus for more than six months, but I just really wanted to post this because this draft was eating me alive. Also, I don’t know why, but Pomefiore’s part was so difficult to write, and thus, I ended up giving up temporarily.

Annnd, I know that the request asked for the staff as well, but I didn’t want to make this longer than it already is, so I decided I will post it separately. Eventually.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! :)

WORDS: 10K+

Ah, Valentine’s Day. A lively festivity that encompasses love and friendship, usually celebrated by those who want to demonstrate affection to the people they care about the most, being in a platonic or a romantic way.

Yet, that’s talking outside of Night Raven College, an academy that’s full of eccentric students, and so, on behalf of that eccentricity, things are a little bit different.

And it all starts with your protective and small companion, Grim.

You finished checking your bag for the last time before leaving, assuring that all the chocolates and gifts you packed were inside, afraid of forgetting any of them in the dorm.

“Sevens, how am I going to carry this...?” You murmured while staring at the huge sack that contained all of your presents, thinking that it resembled the bag that a certain character would only use every Christmas.

All you did was sigh, mentally preparing yourself to carry that seemingly heavy Santa bag.

Or at least that’s what you were going to do, until a sleepy voice stopped you from doing so, effectively getting your attention.

“Where are you going, henchman...?” Grim groggily asked, yawning as he rubbed his eyes. “And why do you have that bag...?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Grim’s drowsy expression as you approached him, scratching his head lightly. “You see, since today is Valentine’s, I wanted to make something special for our friends, so—” And before you could finish your sentence, an excited scream echoed from the old dorm, startling you both.

"Did someone say Valentine's?!" Conrad yelled, cheerfully floating around.

"This brings back so many great memories! I still remember all the chocolates I've received when I was alive. Such great days~" Brawley said, his mind consumed by memories from his past, all while wearing a nostalgic smile.

"Oh, what do we have here~?" Arthur asked, curiosity getting the best out of him as he picked some of the presents that were at the top. "Some gifts for your friends, perhaps~?" He teased, wiggling his eyebrows in a funny manner.

Letting out a soft chuckle while trying to calm Grim down—who was certainly not happy after the abrupt appearance—, you answered. “Indeed, it’s Valentine’s after all. Do they meet your expectations?” You jokingly asked, prompting a playful laughter from the trio of ghosts.

“I absolutely approve them, but I don’t know if those students will.”

“It's obvious they will! She even has personalized chocolates for all of them!”

“That’s true... I wonder how long it took you to prepare all of this.”

They commented, starting a light chat about the festivity, all laughing and having fun. However, in between the funny remarks and jokes, Grim had enough, whining in annoyance as his brain tried its best to understand what was happening.

“What are ya’ talking about?” He complained, turning to look at you with an angry expression. “Henchman! Explain this madness!”

“Well, Grim,” you started, trying to find the correct words to clarify the meaning of this holiday to him. “Valentine’s Day is—“ Although it seemed that you didn’t have to in the first place, seeing that you were once again interrupted by your strangely excited fellows.

“Oh!”, Brawley exclaimed. “Can we explain it?”

“Yeah, we’re the best people, er- Ghosts when it comes to Valentine’s,” Arthur enthusiastically stated.

“Can we make the explanation, MC?” Conrad asked, and since you didn’t want to ruin their happiness, you agreed.

“The floor is yours,” and with that cue, they stood in front of a confused Grim, who looked at you with slight fear and overall confusion.

It took you a few moments to realize that they took it quite literally as you listened to their old-styled song about the festivity, which maybe overused the word “love” in a romantic way... Yet, it was a detail that you didn’t pay much attention to, instead deciding to enjoy the show.

But someone that didn’t take this lightly was Grim, being that a certain sentence was starting to repeat in his mind over and over again: “A day when love stories start! Who would be the next one to take this important step~?”

He was so alarmed that he missed the part where they explained that it was also a day to share with friends, so the first thing that passed through his head was: “They’re tryin’ to steal my henchman! I cannot let that happen!” 

And so, a genius idea was born.

“I’ll go with you, henchman!” He suddenly exclaimed, taking you by surprise, frowning in response.

“Really?” You inquired, and so did the ghosts, adding themselves to the confusion train while raising an eyebrow.

“What? I’m just sayin’ I’m going with you!” Grim repeated, further confusing you four.

“Yes, I heard that, but why...?”

“Why not?” Your companion said, avoiding answering since he knew you were going to tease him about it, instead choosing to walk towards the front door.

“Why though…?” You questioned for the last time, eyeing him with suspicion as you made your way towards the door, picking the bag—that was, to your surprise, much lighter than you thought—in the process.

“We don’t have time for this! If we hurry, we can come back in time for dinner!”

Now that was the Grim you remembered, and even if you never thought that hearing that sentence would make you relieved your wallet isn’t pleased to hear this though, this time it certainly did.

“Okay, let’s go then,” you said, turning to your translucent companions—who still had their mouths wide open, very much resembling to a cartoon—to wave them goodbye.

“Goodbye, guys! We will see you later! The song was amazing, by the way!” Was the last thing you said before closing the door, snapping the ghosts out of their trance.

“Aw! She loved our song!” Was the first thing Conrad said, happy that you liked their performance, not noticing the strange looks he received from the other two.

“Is he just going to ignore the fact that Grim seemed suspiciously protective over MC?” Arthur asked, and Brawley shook his head, disagreeing with him.

“It’s not weird that Grim is protective over her, that’s like a world-known fact,” he paused for a second, as if trying to think of the results of your sincere actions. “I’m more intrigued by how those boys would react upon receiving such a lovely gift from their oblivious love interest.”

And that, my dear Brawley, is what are we going to witness today.

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FIRST STOP: HEARTSLABYUL

Heartslabyul was your first dorm of choice, and that was because you knew everyone will be in the same place at the same time. It was supposed to be easy; go in and go out.

Yet, what was the first thing you heard when entering the dorm’s living room? Screams. Certainly one of the most welcoming sounds while stepping into a place that embraces the idea of discipline.

Seeing that the other students (or at least most of them) were minding their own business, you thought it was not that big of a deal. After greeting the ones that weren’t busy, you both walked over to the kitchen, encountering a not so peculiar scene: Riddle arguing with Ace.

"Guys?" You asked, eyebrow raised as you wondered what happened.

"Oh, Prefect!" Cater exclaimed, cheerfully approaching you. "Thanks for appearing! This situation was #stressingmeout," he commented, thankful for your presence.

"Prefect," Riddle said after coughing slightly, attempting to compose himself. "What brings you here?"

“Well, since I assume you already know what day it is, I thought it would be nice to gift you some chocolates,” you voiced, chuckled at the expressions of your friends as you gave them their respective presents, who were pretty much baffled to hear that. “Or maybe you don’t know, and the heart motifs everywhere are misleading.”

The ones that caught up the fastest were Trey and Cater what a surprise, promptly putting two and two together and realising the reason behind your sudden but cute action.

"Sevens, is it Valentine's already?" Trey questioned, placing a hand on his hat to cover his face due to the embarrassment.

"Are these for us~?" Cater excitedly asked, already pulling out his phone to document this moment. "They are totes cute! Thanks, Prefect!" He said, taking dozens of pictures of the little red box.

“Valentine’s...?” Deuce muttered, face turning pale after his brain clicked and realised what that meant. “I’m sorry, MC! I don’t have a present for you!” He quickly apologised, bowing before you.

"You don't have to give me anything, you know?" You assured, trying to ease his concern. "I just wanted to gift you all something as thanks for all your help and support, and for being my friends, of course."

And that is how you make the Heartslabyul (and pretty much anyone in NRC) students blush in mere seconds; if these guys weren’t blushing before, now they undoubtedly are.

"Yeah, yeah, enough of these speeches!" Grim chimed, wanting to move onto the next dorm already. "We don't have all day! Let's go, henchman!"

"Geez, what has got into you today?" You said, turning to the students to wave them goodbye. "I have to go now; I hope you liked the— Agh! Grim, stop pushing me!"

In an instant, the two of you departed, leaving behind five startled students who were speechless by the sudden turn of events.

Riddle’s heart-shaped chocolates match his new bouquet of red roses.

Riddle never had a Valentine’s Day celebration before. Mainly because his mom, being the main factor in his life, used to call the holiday a “disruptive event,” and so, he ended up thinking that Valentine’s was an unnecessary and dumb festivity. You can now assume he doesn't think that anymore. As everyone already guessed, this boy was red; in fact, if you inspected his face closely enough, you would notice that his cheeks were tinted with the same shade the flowers gifted to him had, which he used to cover his face. And don’t get me started when he saw the chocolates; he nearly dropped the box out of embarrassment, not believing that you were bold enough to give him heart-shaped chocolates... But it’s not like he’s complaining so please gift this boy more heart-shaped sweets.

Trey’s hazelnut chocolates match his new set of heart measuring spoons.

Trey doesn’t know how he could’ve possibly forgotten about Valentine’s; his family owns a bakery, by the Sevens! He must’ve had the date imprinted on his mind by now! He's just wondering how he didn't think about it before while looking at the gifts, feeling a bit guilty that he didn't have anything for you. Although... That doesn't mean he wouldn't focus on your kind-hearted present, after all, who could after receiving such a detailed gift of your dear romantic interest friend? Immediately after this, he knows that he has to make something for you as well; something to remind you how special you are. Hence, why his mind is in a whirlwind of ideas, contemplating which chocolate would best match your taste, and what’s better, he can use that cute set of spoons you just gifted him.

Cater’s spicy pumpkin chocolates match his new skateboard.

Cater was very aware that today was Valentine's Day. Like, it's Cater we're talking about. He literally spent the entire week thinking of gift ideas for a friend crush in order to find the perfect one for you. He just wasn't expecting for you to pull an uno reverse card on him, or at least not before he gave you your gift. Less to say that he was over the moon with this action; he already had a new wallpaper and ten new posts featuring his new possessions. He was so excited that he forgot he had something for you, and by the time he remembered you were already gone. He figures out he can drop by Ramshackle later, but it didn't take long for him to realise that everyone would have the same idea. Oh well, what a perfect occasion to have a new skateboard~.

Ace’s chocolate-covered cherries match his new frog watch.

Ace has never been a big fan of Valentine's. After breaking up with his first girlfriend, he ended up disliking the romantic idea of the holiday. Though that didn't mean that he didn't like the presents and the chocolates, which he would sometimes receive. He used to feel confident when receiving those, yet he didn't give them too much importance, so he doesn't understand why he was blushing over some chocolate-covered cherries and a stupid frog watch. Like, are you mocking him, MC? Do you really think that he would use such a dumb thing? He definitely doesn't think that this is so cute coming from you, and he definitely is not going to use that watch everyday spoiler alert, he is definitely going to.

Deuce’s cinnamon flavored chocolate eggs match his chicken plushie.

Deuce isn't very versed when it comes to Valentine's. He did celebrate it with his mom, but that was literally it. The only times he received chocolates and other gifts were from anonymous letters, but he thought it was a joke, so he never tried to find the author (which ended up being a girl that had a huge crush on him). Hence why this boy is worried. He definitely appreciates you and your gifts, because it’s not every day that you get a Valentine’s gift from your crush! Like, what is he supposed to give you (even though you said it was fine) after you took the time and effort to elaborate such a wholesome gift? He ends up worrying so much about it that the chocolate has probably melted by now. But don’t worry, his plushie is still safe and sound!

You may be thinking that “they ended up living happy forever after,” right? No. That’s not how Heartslabyul works.

"Hey! Why is your chocolate bigger than mine?!"

"How is that my fault...? Hey! Stop trying to steal my chocolates!"

"There's no need to fight. I'm sure that the Prefect made sure to make everyone's chocolates equally."

"Yeah! You should worry about what to gift her instead~"

“I will take my leave then. You're free to come with me to try to find something that she would like.”

"Why did that sound so condescending...?"

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SECOND STOP: SAVANACLAW

Savanaclaw’s was the second dorm you entered, and even if you loved the dorm, you weren’t sure how your chocolates were going to handle its weather because, surprise surprise: heat and chocolates do not go well together. Unless they like melted chocolate.

The situation didn’t seem to go any better, as you didn’t know where could the Savanaclaw students be. Well, all of them except for Leona, who was comfortably sleeping on the living room’s couch.

“Maybe we should find the others first. I don’t want to wake—” You commented, being abruptly interrupted by Grim and his yells, sighing upon the situation. “—Him up.”

"Hey, sleeping beauty! Wake up!" Your companion shouted, about to jump on his stomach before you grabbed him, keeping Grim from doing anything he might regret.

“Why are you being so goddamn loud...?” Leona grumbled, groggily standing up with a scowl on his face due to the sudden awakening. Looking at Grim, fully aware that he was the nuisance that interrupted his sleep, he sent him a threatening stare.

Before Grim could reply (or try to, at the very least), you stopped him from doing so, further explaining why you were in the dorm to begin with.

"I'm sorry, Leona. I'm sure it wasn't Grim's intention to wake you up in such a rude way," you stated, briefly glaring at the pouting creature.

"That's not true! And don't think that you've scared the great Grim! I—" Deciding that it was enough, you started to scratch behind his ear, sending an apologetic smile to the dorm leader in front of you, who seemed to be a little annoyed jealous of this action.

"I brought Valentine's presents for all of you," you answered, momentarily shocking the lion for a few seconds before his lips erupted into a smirk.

"Valentine's, huh?" He remarked, stepping closer towards you. "Then I guess today's the perfect day to—"

And just like we saw before (and will continue to see), Leona was interrupted, because students at this college apparently don’t like when people are about to finish their sentences.

Ruggie and Jack weren't far away from where you three were. In fact, both of them were preparing their meals before they heard your voice coming from the living room.

And when they decided to check, what's the first thing they see upon exiting the kitchen? His dorm leader shamelessly flirting with you at a really close distance while you carried a sleepy Grim.

"What do we have here~?" Ruggie chimed, walking towards your side so he could be near you. "What can we do for you, Prefect~?" He asked, ignoring Leona's death stare.

"And why did you bring such a large bag?" Jack questioned, making the two beastmen suddenly notice the heavy bag you were carrying on your shoulders.

"Glad you asked, Jack," you replied, looking through your bag’s different contents until you finally reached the ones that were labelled after them. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

Immediately following your statement, you presented them with their respective gifts, easily recognizable by the distinct yellow hue of the packaging.

The beastmen’s cheeks were slowly turning into a bright red after receiving the present, treating the little package like the most precious thing on earth, which was true, at least in their eyes.

"Are these… For us…?" Ruggie hesitated, unsure of how he should react.

"Duh! Didn't you just hear her?!" Grim said, annoyance showing in his voice.

"You're just jealous you didn't get anything," Leona guessed, smirking upon seeing how irked he got by that teasing comment.

"I'm sorry, MC, but I don't have anything for you," Jack apologised, and before he could even think of bowing before you, you stopped him.

"You don't have to give me anything. As long as you like the present, I have nothing to worry about," you explained with a small smile, starting to walk towards the exit. "Unfortunately, I can't stay for much longer. So, I guess I will see you later!" 

And with that, you managed to leave just before your fluffy companion started to complain.

Leona’s smoked dark chocolates match his new lion pendant.

Leona isn’t that used to celebrating holidays, and Valentine’s wasn’t the exception. He would sometimes receive large amounts of gifts, ranging from expensive jewelry to different sets of clothing; things that he would just leave unused and forgotten. But your gift is a different story. You can be sure this man is going to use that necklace until he dies. He’s not going to entertain the possibility of it going missing in the depths of his bedroom, already frowning at the imaginary scenario of looking at your sad face while you ask where his gift was. He even clicks his tongue in annoyance, putting on the pendant to make sure it wasn’t going anywhere. Let’s see how fast you catch on this one, herbivore.

Ruggie’s mini donuts covered in chocolate match his new handmade bracelet.

Ruggie hasn't received, nor gifted a Valentine's gift ever. Holiday presents were (and still are) something that he deems as important and special. The only times when he did gift something to someone were during birthdays and as thanks, and vice versa. He’s not used to receiving presents outside those situations, and what’s even more surprising to him is that you were the one that brought the gift. Actually, no; what’s more surprising than that is that you don’t want anything in return, something that really caught him off guard. Less to say that he is going to be over-protecting those presents; this was something that you made for him and him only, and so it shall continue that way except the donuts, he can’t let them rot, can he?

Jack’s pear cider chocolates match his new snowboarding gloves. 

Jack has actually received quite a few Valentine’s gifts, but the thing is, just like Deuce, he still doesn’t know who the person behind those presents was. He never paid a lot of attention to it at the time, and so he continued with his life. Now he’s aware that he had to paid attention before. The one day that he doesn’t check the calendar ends up being Valentine’s Day; I can completely assure you that he’s setting up an alarm for the next one, also adding to the reminder some present ideas that say: “you’re my crush,” but don’t scream it. When you leave, he stands so still you can mistake him for a statue; if statues could wag their tail, of course.

Savanaclaw is savage what a shock, right? These boys would not even let the other one stand next to their present. Sevens, they wouldn’t even let them breathe next to their present.

"I feel sorry for you. That's really all the Herbivore got you?"

"At least I will make sure to use it. I wonder how long it will take before that pendant disappears."

"What did you say?"

"I guess I will see you later. I don't want to be a part of this."

"Hey, come back!"

"We haven't even started on your present!"

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, THIRD STOP: OCTAVINELLE

Octavinelle, as your following choice, felt like a secure place. You were almost sure you were going to find your friends in the blink of an eye, give them their gifts and head to the next dorm. Yet the variable you didn’t have into account was considering how empty and eerie the dorm appeared at first glance.

"Henchman?" Grim started.

"Yeah?" You answered, slowly walking towards the Mostro Lounge.

"Don't ya’ think there's something fishy going on today?"

"What do you mean?"

"Floyd and Jade aren't here."

And upon that remark, you stopped. Looking around to try to spot your usually welcome committee, you noted that Grim was correct. Jade and Floyd were nowhere to be found, slightly confusing you.

"Well, today must be a busy day at the Mostro Lounge. They are most likely working," you said, resuming your walk.

Although Grim didn’t seem to want to continue the walk, scared to be a victim of whatever evil scheme the eels were plotting.

You assured that you wouldn’t let anything happen to him on your guard, to which he responded by saying he didn’t need your protection, rambling about how you dared to think he wasn't strong enough to protect you— Ahem, to protect himself and you, until he suddenly stopped.

"Henchman," he started again.

"Yeah?" you answered a second time.

"I think there's someone behind us—"

Noticing two large shadows that covered yours, you both slowly turned around, encountering two identical faces that looked down on you with a sly smile, vocalizing:

"Shrimpy~!"

"What a pleasant surprise to see you here, Prefect."

Grim let out a high-pitched scream, hiding behind your legs due to the shock, unaware of the death stare that Floyd directed at him.

"Ah, Jade, Floyd. We were just talking about you," you said, sighing in relief upon listening to their characteristic voices.

"Wah~! Did you hear that, Jade? Shrimpy was looking for me~" Floyd exclaimed, to which his twin only chuckled.

"I heard that she was looking for both of us, in fact," and before his brother could whine in response, Jade added. "Why would that be, Prefect?"

"Before I answer to that, do you know where Azul is?" you asked, looking behind them in hopes that the octomerman would appear.

"Azul? Oh, that's right," Jade let out a small smile. "He must be looking for us."

"Eh~? But I don't want to go back!" Floyd whined, thinking about what he could do to avoid going to work again. "Oh!" He exclaimed, an imaginary light bulb appearing over his head. "I can hide behind you, right, Shrimpy~?"

"You can try, but I don't think it would do much," you responded, and just when he was about to do it, you heard a yell coming from the end of the hallway.

"Jade! Floyd!" Azul screamed, walking over to where you were. "Do I need to remind you that you are still working? If you continue—"

"Hello, Azul," you greeted, seeing how the businessman yelped due to the surprise, unaware that you were behind Jade. "Great timing, I was about to look after you."

"Prefect!" He exclaimed, unconsciously tidying himself up, trying to distract you from his earlier action. "And why did you want to see me?" He stuttered, cheeks tinted of a light pink.

"I'm sure you already know what day is today, so I'm just going to give you these," you briefly explained, handing all of them their respective gifts and chocolates. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

"Valentine's...?" Floyd muttered, face brightening up due to the excitement. "Does this mean Shrimpy loves me~?" He boldly asked, trying to get a shy reaction out of you, all while Azul covered his face in embarrassment, making this scenario all the much more entertaining to Jade, who was lightly chucking.

Yet when all of this unfolded, you talked, saying something that took all three of them by surprise. “Of course, I love you all after all,” you replied with a bright and contagious smile; it was at that moment that Grim realised that if he didn't do anything about this soon, they wouldn't let you go, and he can't let that happen.

"Henchman! We have to get going! Is gonna take us forever to finish if we stay here!" 

You sighed at Grim’s impatient behavior, not really understanding where it was coming from. But he was right; your chocolates weren’t going to last a whole day outside, they just weren’t made for that kind of purpose.

"As you see, me and my new guardian have to get going, so I will see you later," you joked, being weakly dragged by your companion, biding them farewell (hoping that Floyd wasn’t going to carry you like a sack of potatoes, again).

Azul’s blueberry flavoured chocolate coins match his new octopus coin.

Azul didn't really care about Valentine's (and no, it’s not because he was made fun of constantly during this day, why would you think that? It was, please give this boy lots of hugs and support); the only reason keeps track of it is that he knows it's a very profitable holiday. And I said "didn't" because that was before he realised that he had a crush on you... Okay, maybe Jade made him aware, but he still realised it. He spent the last couple of months planning the perfect plan to confess to you or at least try to, but this wasn't on his schedule. He marked this situation as "very improbable," hence why he looks like he has a fever. Furthermore, he tries to dissimulate it since he doesn't want the twins to make fun of him (again), but it's too late. A flustered Azul is always going to be interesting to witness.

Jade’s chocolate shaped mushrooms (like the Meiji Kinoko Chocolate), match his new decorations for his terrariums.

Jade is sort of neutral about Valentine's. He's not one that usually gives gifts (he definitely gave Floyd some mushrooms as a Valentine’s gift, and you can tell he was not happy about it), but he has definitely received a couple of presents, which he usually doesn’t keep unless they're interesting enough. But, if he's being honest, he wouldn't throw away anything that you gift to him; most people would call it "simping", he calls it "courtesy." His first reaction is to smile upon receiving it, yet unlike most of his mannerisms (which he keeps very controlled), this was something that to the untrained eye would go unnoticed, yet his twin and his boss childhood friend know that there's a hint of genuine happiness in it.

Floyd’s sea salt caramel lego-shaped chocolates match his new eel bracelet with his name on it.

Unlike his brother, Floyd thinks Valentine's is a very interesting holiday. He considers it the “funniest” day just because he finds the rejected Valentine’s faces so amusing. One thing he has in common with Jade though, is that he doesn't keep most of the presents given to him, especially if he can't see the reaction of the person. So, to meet his expectations you have to: one, give it to him directly, and two, wait for the best. Fortunately, we're talking about you, so that’s good news for you. Although the bad news is that you only have two options now that you’ve given him something: run or face his clinginess. 

If you didn’t know who these students were, you wouldn’t be amused, but if you do, well, it certainly was strange seeing all three (especially Floyd) staying idle in the middle of the hallway just... Existing.

"Why are you standing there? Go back to work."

"Aren't you going with us, boss?"

"Yeah! That's really unfair!"

"I have some important things that I have to take care of."

"Really? How strange, I remember you said that you had some paperwork to do."

"Oh~ Jade caught you lying, Azul~"

"Just go back to work, and don't even think about following me."

"Do you want to follow him, Jade~?"

"Of course, Floyd."

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FOURTH STOP: SCARABIA

Since Scarabia was your next stop, you were a bit worried. Mainly because Scarabia’s weather, just like Savanaclaw, wasn’t the ideal for your chocolates to be in. Yet, something that kept your hopes high was your positivism, assuring yourself (in order to not panic) that you were going to find your friends rapidly.

"Henchman, don't ya' think we should hurry? I don't think those chocolates can stand this heat."

"I know, it’s starting to worry me," you responded, face changing from concern to determination. "But I think I know where they could be."

Grim tilted his head, as if asking: "What do you mean?"

"I called Kalim earlier to ask him about his and Jamil's plans. They don't stay in one place for long, so it was only to be sure."

"And where are they then?"

"Right here," you stated, standing in front of a big door: the one that contained all of Kalim's treasures.

You grabbed the handle, ready to open it when suddenly, the door pulled towards you. It collided with your forehead, making you lose your balance slightly, trying to not fall since it could make it worse.

"Prefect!" The Scarabia students exclaimed, worried and confused about what just happened. "Are you okay?!"

"It's okay, I'm okay," you reassured them, holding your head as a reflexive reaction.

"Henchman! Can you hear me?!" Grim yelled, making you wince slightly due to the headache. "How dare ya', pesky humans! She could have died!"

"I'm so sorry, Prefect! Do you need to go to the infirmary? Jamil and I can bring you there!" Kalim exclaimed; eyes full of concern out of fear of something severe happening to you.

"Don't worry, Kalim. I know it was an accident," you said, feeling much better now that they were starting to quiet down. “I’m sure it’s not going to leave a scar or something.”

"Prefect, are you completely sure? We don't have any problem accompanying you to the nurse," Jamil suggested, but you refused.

"Guys, seriously, I'm fine," you said, crouching down, so you could look for their gifts. "Now onto the thing I wanted to talk about..." You handed them the presents and chocolates. "Happy Valentine's."

"Valentine's...?" Kalim asked, thinking about something for a moment before an imaginary light bulb appeared over his head. "Oh, that's right! We also have a present for you as well! Right, Jamil?"

Jamil didn't answer, seemingly lost for a few seconds until he snapped out of his trance. "Yeah, that's right," he answered, murmuring a little "thanks," loud enough for you to hear.

"It's nothing. I hope you like it, I tried to make them the best I could."

Before they could show you your gift, Grim had enough of this and decided that it was time to move on, practically dragging you outside Scarabia.

"Goodbye guys, maybe we can see each other later— Grim! Stop pulling me! I only have this pair of pants!"

Kalim and Jamil may be very different, but if they had one thing in common as of right now is that they were completely happy to receive such a heartfelt gift.

Kalim’s coconut chocolates match his new friendship bracelet.

Kalim has definitely received plenty of Valentine's chocolates and gifts in equal amounts, even if most of them came from his parents and his thirty siblings. All of this made Kalim believe that celebrating Valentine’s like that was very normal to be honest, it’s more of a lovely Halloween than most things, but that’s fine, it’s Kalim; at least, the platonic side of it. This could explain why it felt kind of odd when he received your gift, but don’t worry! It’s a good type of odd. He knows that he has a crush on you Jamil’s courtesy, so this gave him the slight hope that you might see him more than a friend one day. And even if not, he’s totally okay with it, since he will still be able of being your friend.

Jamil’s chili pepper chocolates match his new talking parrot plushie.

Jamil isn’t very fond of Valentine’s. It is not a surprise that he didn’t receive as many gifts as Kalim, but he never showed his discomfort to not anger his family; after all, he already knew that he just wasn’t made to give and receive something like that, or at least, that was his mentality until you and your adorable present came into the picture. He just thinks you’re a box full of surprises He had absolutely no idea that he was going to fall for you, but just like he never expected to like you, you surprised him with a gift. You gifted him something. MC, let me tell you that if he wasn’t head over heels for you, he now is.

Scarabia is by far the most normal one out the seven dorms. They’re happy, and that’s all. The difference is that one of them shows it and the other doesn’t.

“Did you see that, Jamil?! She said she made them herself!”

“Yes, Kalim, I heard it. You don’t have to yell”

“Oh, right, sorry!”

“...”

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, FIFTH STOP: POMEFIORE

Pomefiore, being the next one on your list, gave you hope. Hope that maybe your original plan will work, and that you would be able to leave quickly enough to continue the rest of your long journey.

But, as you already may have guessed, things can’t be that simple.

“How strange...” You muttered, walking away from the common room after finding it empty. “Where could they be?”

“Nyah! It’s gonna take us forever to find them!” Grim whined, already tired from all the searching. “Can’t we just leave the gifts at their doors?”

“I’m not going to do that, Grim,” you stated, intently searching for your friends. “The whole point of this was to hand them the presents personally, even if it takes me the whole day.” Believe me, MC. It is going to take you the whole day.

“But we can’t just expect them to appear out of nowhere!” He claimed, unaware of the towering figures that stood right behind him after voicing those words.

“Yes, that seems certainly impossible,” Vil said, scaring Grim to the point where he climbed to your arms, hissing at the student. “Oh, did I scare you?” He teased, a bit more playful than usual.

“For your information, ya’ didn’t scare me!” Your companion quickly retorted, and although he tried to come up with an excuse to fight back, you stepped in to prevent a petty argument—certainly a wise decision—.

“So, before Grim can start a discussion here, in the middle of the hallway. Again,” you called out, eyeing him, trying to make him understand the hint. “I would like to give you these.”

“Are these... Gifts?” Epel asked, unsure of why the sudden display of affection. “Why are ya’ giving us this...?”

“Epel, don’t be disrespectful,” Vil corrected, sighing upon seeing that his little apprentice apparently didn’t know what day it was. 

“You see, Monsieur Crabapple. Today is the magnifique holiday called Valentine’s Day!” Rook briefly clarified, proceeding to deliver a monologue embellished with fancy words, listing all the wonderful things that Valentine’s entailed. “How wonderful out of you, dear Trickster, to grace us with these detailed presents!”

The hunter approached you, taking your hands in his as he gazed into your eyes, seemingly aware of the looks he was receiving from his housewarden and dorm fellow.

It wasn’t until Vil coughed that Rook stopped, only chuckling slightly while leaving your hand, not wanting to infuriate his beautiful friend.

“They do seem very elaborate. So, I’m grateful for this present, dear potato,” he thanked, looking at Epel to remind him that he hadn’t thanked you yet.

“Oh! Thank you for these gifts, MC. I’m sorry that I don’t have anything to give you in return...” The boy apologized, making you sigh once again.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” You commented, amused at your friend’s sincere words. “I’m not doing this in exchange for gifts. This is a gift to thank you all for being amazing friends.”

Ouch. Collective friend-zoning. That must’ve hurt.

“Yet, we do have presents for you, ma chérie,” Rook voiced, not wanting you to go before you received their display of affection.

“Indeed. We don’t have them here, but—”

“No!” Grim interrupted, having enough of the whole conversation. “Henchman, it’s getting late and, we still have lots of gifts to deliver!” He said, trying to convince you to get out of Pomefiore before Vil and Rook’s charms trapped you there.

You turned to the students, doing an apologetic bow before explaining. “I’m sorry, he’s right. I can’t stay for much longer. But I appreciate the intention, and I hope to see you later— Grim! Why are you so impatient?!”

“We have to keep moving! So say goodbye to them already!” The little creature demanded, threatening to rip the hem on your pants.

“Okay, okay! Goodbye, guys! Maybe we can meet later!” Was the last thing they heard you say before disappearing behind a corner with your protective monster-cat.

And so, surprised and with rosy cheeks that weren’t part of their makeup, they headed towards the— Oh, it seems like they don’t remember anymore... You’re giving people amnesia, MC.

Vil's chocolate-covered berries match his new bouquet of violets.

Vil has a long history with Valentine’s Day; specifically the gift part of Valentine’s. This man right here has received countless gifts and cards from fans and people around him confessing their love in extravagant—and sometimes expensive—ways. He’s used to this by this point, but his balance point was broken the moment you decided to hand him that present. Dear potato, have you ever thought about being the partner of a renowned celebrity? No...? Well, would you like to? Because Vil takes this detail as your way of expressing your fondness for him. Sure, you said it was because he’s an ‘amazing friend’ (which he obviously is), but that doesn’t mean you can’t see him as more than a friend. After all, Vil’s patience is truly one of his virtues just don’t tell him you have a gift for Neige. You know, only if you want him to live a bit longer.

Rook’s mint chocolates match his new poetry book.

Oh dear, when I say no one at Night Raven College loves Valentine’s as much as Rook does, I’m being completely serious. We’re talking about a holiday that’s all about expressing love, and taking into account that Rook calls himself “le chasseur d’amore...” There’s not much left to piece together, is it. He is mesmerized by this gift; it doesn’t matter if you said it was to appreciate his friendship, he’s focusing on the fact that you, kind and wholehearted you, seemed to put so much effort to make this present that was for him and him only. Oh, beautiful Trickster; I hope you are prepared, for this dedicated hunter is going to be next at your feet expressing his admiration and appreciation for you in a very... ‘Rook manner,’ for the next couple of days... Or weeks. Maybe months, but it’s not like he didn’t do that from before, so that’s fine.

Epel’s chocolate-dipped apple rings match his new apple plushie (with an evil smile, may I add)

Epel isn’t really involved in Valentine’s. His experience with it consists of him occasionally receiving some gifts from his family and carving out some apples with Valentine’s elements on them. Being the only young boy in a village full of elderly people, we can assume that he never really got into touch with the romantic part of the holiday; at least, not until now. And I have to congratulate you, MC; you just made Epel’s face resemble an apple, and all because of your thoughtfulness. Now, does he think that having plushies is manly? No. But will he put your gift aside because of this? No. Not only because it will make you sad, but also because he assumes it wouldn’t be so bad to have an evil apple plushie in his room. You know, at least it’s evil, and that makes it a bit more manly. Sevens Epel, a manly apple-?

Pomefiore are just turning on the passive-aggressive mode. Nothing can stop these boys from feeling superior just because they received a personalized gift (which everyone got, but let’s not ruin their fantasy).

“Isn’t our belle Trickster so endearing. To take her precious time by making all of us these detailed gifts; ah, what a beautiful way to celebrate Valentine’s!”

“Although yours doesn’t seem that detailed, Rook. Are ya’ happy with that pocket diary?”

“I could ask the same to you, Epel. Although I may say that plushie compliments you.”

“Quit that, please...”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, Monsieur Crabapple! The magnifique shade of this plushie truly enhances your beauty!”

“I’m not going to ask you anything from today onwards...”

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SIXTH STOP: IGNIHYDE

Ignihyde had to be the easier dorm to “infiltrate” so far. The housewarden was known for being a programming genius, but also, and most important of all, for staying in his room.

It was a fool-proof plan. Entering Ignihyde, encountering Ortho along the way, and finally, greet Idia at his bedroom Nothing could go wrong.

And this may surprise you, but contrary to all the things that happened to you today, nothing went wrong. In fact, the list of events I just spelled did happen in that order.

After entering Ignihyde, you were greeted with the usual sight of an almost empty living room, saluting the few students that weren’t occupied with winning an intense game of Animal Crossing.

Subsequent to the first stage of your plan, you encountered the youngest Shroud brother while walking towards the oldest, seeing his cheerful face approach you with a welcoming voice.

“Hello, MC! What brings you here today?” Ortho said, instantly noting the large bag behind your bag. “And why are you carrying that bag? Are my brother and you going to study today?”

You giggled at his comment, shaking your head in refusal. “Not exactly. I’m here to gift Idia a Valentine’s present.” You explained, followed by asking if he was in his room.

Ortho stayed silent for a couple seconds, quickly searching for the holiday you just mentioned, and when he knew what it was about... Let’s just say that his expectations of you confessing to Idia (because honestly, at this point he knows his brother isn’t going to, for now, at least) were rising like the sky-high.

“Of course! My brother will be very happy to see you and to receive your awesome present, MC!” The little one answered, taking you by your hand to guide you to Idia’s room.

As soon as he arrived, Ortho knocked on the door, patiently waiting for his brother’s response.

“What is it, Ortho?” Idia asked, lazily opening the door, thinking that Ortho had come up with another plan to hang out with you. Jokes on him, no plan was needed, as you were right in front of him, a wide smile plastered over your face. “MC—!” He blurted out, surprised to see you.

“Hello, Idia,” you exclaimed, assuming that it would be best if you explained the meaning behind your visit. “I know you may be busy, and I don’t intend to take much of your time. I just wanted to give you this,” and thus you gifted the blue haired boy a small blue box, alongside a translucent bag of chocolates.

“Huh...? W-why are you giving me this...?” The boy questioned, only to be smacked with a reality check by remembering all the special side quests he completed regarding the love and friendship’s special day. “Oh. OH—”

In the blink of an eye his hair goes from blue to a bright pink, not giving you enough time to comment about it since he shuts the door just as fast, too embarrassed to pronounce a word other than a small: “thank you.”

“Brother! Are you okay? Your heart rate is going extremely fast!” Ortho voiced, not really helping Idia’s situation don’t tell him that, he’ll get sad.

“Don’t worry, Ortho. I’m pretty sure Idia’s okay. He must’ve been taken aback, that’s all.”

“Yeah, he’s definitely fine and we should definitely go to deliver these last presents,” Grim suggested, already making his way back to the mirror chamber.

“Not so fast, Grim. I have yet to give Ortho his gift.” The mentioned raised an eyebrow, certainly not expecting that.

“A gift? For me?” He uttered while moving his head to the side in curiosity.

“Yeah, for you,” you reiterated, handing him a little box—no chocolates this time because, well, he’s a robot—. “I hope you like it. You can place them wherever you want, and they also got little chains in case you want to bring them with you.”

He stares at the keychains, looking at the similar characteristics between him, his brother, Grim and you; and with a bright smiley face, he exclaims: “thank you, MC! I will make sure to take great care of these!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. We have to keep going, if you don’t mind.”

“Goodbye, Ortho. And goodbye, Idia! Hope you like your present too!” You voiced, unsure if he heard you or not.

Oh, and indeed he heard you, it’s just that he’s a little too occupied trying to not die from cuteness overload— Never mind, he just short-circuited.

Idia’s peanut butter chocolates match his new videogame.

Taking into account his past, we can safely say that Idia didn’t really have a lot of experience with Valentine’s, aside from the games, that’s for sure. He never gave or received any chocolates nor gifts, and you know what? He was fine with that; just enjoying his games and not worrying about love and romance at least irl, because this man proclaims himself as an expert when it comes to ships in manga and video games. He was fine, and now he isn’t. His mind is flooded with too many questions, like: why on earth would you give him anything? Is it because of social etiquette or because you wanted to? How did you get your hands on this game? Should he take this as a sign to finally confess his undeniable crush on you—? Okay, he may have gone a little too far with that one. But don’t worry! He is going to do it, it’s just that it might take a bit of time. He’s absolutely going to gift you something back, don’t doubt it. But you may want to wait after the short-circuit passes.

VALENTINE’S DELIVERY, SEVENTH AND FINAL STOP: DIASOMNIA

Now, you knew that Diasomnia was going to be a tough one. Firstly, you were sure there was going to be a lot of shouting (Sebek’s courtesy), followed by Lilia, and possibly Malleus’ teasing. Silver was the only one that didn’t really do much apart from being the most normal being out of the four that’s a compliment, Silver. You make MC’s life a bit easier.

“Okay, Grim,” you started, happy upon seeing that this was the last location. “After this, we can go back to Ramshackle and eat the dinner you were so impatient for. Isn’t that exciting?”

No response.

“Well, I know you’re tired, but I have to thank you for accompanying me today. Even if you were a bit rude and odd, it really means a lot that—” 

“The Great Grim is going to fight all of you...!” He interrupted, mumbling incoherent things while you looked at his sleeping face, not sure when or how he fell asleep.

“I should have guessed that a whole day of walking may end up in this,” you muttered, carefully lifting him up so he could rest in your shoulders, trying to accommodate him the best you could as you made your way towards the Witch of Thorns’ dorm.

If felt strange having Grim by your side and not hearing him chit-chat with his characteristic tone, after all, it’s not like Grim and silence usually got along unless he was sleeping or reprimanded.

Feeling a bit bored, you started to hum softly, slowly strolling to find the garden, where you thought your friends might be.

It didn’t take long for you to encounter them, and they, likewise, didn’t take long to notice you were there. 

Malleus approached you first, a smile spreading across his face upon seeing you. “How delightful it is to see you, Child of Man. What brings you here today?” He asked, unsuspecting of the surprise you’ve prepared for all of them.

“Oh. Don’t tell me the rumors are true,” Lilia voiced, floating behind you to take a peek inside your bag. It seemed like him, unlike the rest of the dorm, was aware of your intentions.

“What rumors...?” You questioned, keeping him from grabbing one of the small boxes sitting at the bottom of the bag. 

He blinked in surprise, followed by a giggle after realising that you had no idea what was being said behind your back. “I wouldn’t like to ruin the surprise. It’s something you may want to express yourself, am I right?”

“Master Lilia! What do you mean by that?” Sebek shouted, prompting you to shush him quickly so Grim wouldn’t wake up. “You dare to quiet me down, human—!”

“Sebek,” Silver intervened, noticing the sleeping being on your shoulders, and thus he pointed it for the green haired boy to see.

“I’m sorry for shushing you, Sebek. It’s just that Grim is asleep and I don’t want to wake him up,” you apologized, hoping that your crocodile friend would try to lower his voice at least a little.

“O-okay, human. But—!” He paused briefly, trying to not raise his voice. “I’m not doing it because of your orders.”

You sighed, thankful for his thoughtfulness, even if he didn’t want to admit it. “Thank you, Sebek.”

Malleus coughed as he eyed his guardian’s red face, wanting to continue the original topic. “Say, Child of Man. You were about to tell us the meaning behind your visit.”

“Oh, that’s right,” you replied, cautiously taking the four remaining gifts to give them to the students. “I wanted to give you something as a Valentine’s Day present. So, I hope you like these details,” you stated, sighing after handing out the gifts, glad that this would be the last parade.

“My, my. I didn’t expect to receive a Valentine’s Day gift until a couple more of years,” Lilia muttered, seemingly happy to see his gift. 

Silver stood silently for a few seconds, quickly realising that he had to thank you, softly expressing his gratitude over your recent action.

Sebek felt in the obligation to ask the purpose of this unexpected act, but since he wasn’t able didn’t want to express it his usual way, he recurred to mumble a small ‘thank you,’ taking you by surprise.

And the last and most dramatic reaction of all had to be given to Malleus. Just as we’ve seen before, he tends to... Overreact a little when it comes to small details like this one; so, in truly dragon-fae fashion, he kneeled before you, took your hand and prepared to say the words he’s been wanting to say for a long time now.

Lilia, however, had to step in, immediately clarifying how Valentine’s Day is also a day express your love for your friends. Less to say that if Malleus had his dragon ears, they would be flopped down like a puppy.

“Well. It seems that your wonderful visit has brought new moments to reminisce about,” the old fae said, trying his best to ease the situation. “We are very grateful for what you’ve gifted us today.”

“I’m happy to see that you’ve liked them,” you voiced, chuckling a bit after witnessing their reactions. “And, although I can’t really stay for much longer, I enjoyed this moment with you.”

You were about to head out after biding them goodbye, only to be stopped by Malleus, who was still a little gloomy for the news he just received. “Do you really have to go now, Child of Man?”

“Unfortunately, I do. It’s already late and Grim might get mad at me if he finds out that he’s not at Ramshackle when he wakes up,” you calmly explained, softly caressing his cheek as you walked away, promising him that you would have more time to spend together tomorrow.

You better keep that promise, MC. Malleus is already too dejected to suffer another deception.

Malleus’ gelato truffles match his new gargoyle keychain.

Malleus’ knows what Valentine’s is, but his knowledge about it is limited to the romantic part of it. Hence why he is about to pursue you, ready to propose, again, and take you to his castle so that you can live a long and happy life together; until Lilia explained him the other side of the holiday, disappointing the dragon fae. Well, excuse him, Lilia, but how was he supposed to know that humans also celebrate their friendship during Valentine’s. He’s frustrated, but also enchanted  in a nutshell, he’s a mess right now. Yes, he’s still quite sad that this wasn’t a confession and that he may have to wait a bit of time before making a move on you, but nonetheless, you just expressed that you care and appreciate him, and that, at least for now, was enough for him.

Lilia’s green tea chocolates match his new bouquet of black and fuchsia roses.

Lilia has witnessed and experienced many Valentine’s days during his life. He probably has enough information to fill an entire encyclopedia about it, maybe including some of his stories as a bonus. Having lived for so long, Lilia finds enjoyment in how humans celebrate their holidays; and Valentine’s wasn’t the exception. He reminisces about his past lovers and confidants, basking in the subtle aroma of his recently acquired bouquet while thinking about all the memories he made along the way. This may sound like something an old man would say, but Lilia truly relishes in the fleeting moments that life graces him with; he most definitely takes delight in spending those moments with you, happy to see that you also enjoy his presence.

Silver’s cashew chocolates match his new deer plushie.

Silver’s pretty much indifferent towards Valentine’s. He doesn’t have time to celebrate these kinds of festivities when he has to make sure his young master isn’t in any danger. But he guesses that once a while won’t hurt... Malleus and Lilia are within his sight, Sebek is right next to him, and he doesn’t have the will to reject your gift. After all, who is he to decline such a selfless act? He gives you a warm smile as his cheeks turn into a slight shade of pink, uttering grateful words until he was too sleepy to continue the conversation. Just as he was slowly falling asleep, he unconsciously hugged his new stuffed plushie, unaware of the future teasing his father would carry out. Well, seeing the bright side of it though: he had an splendid nap and you had another sleeping beauty Silver picture. A win-win situation indeed.

Sebek’s lemon caramel chocolates match his new crocodile and dragon mug.

Sebek wasn’t and still isn’t fond of Valentine’s Day. In fact, he’s not fond of almost any of the holidays that you, mere humans, like to celebrate. However, even if he states that he doesn’t care about your gift and complaints about your display of affection towards his young master, Sebek ends up liking you a little bit more than usual. Don’t be mistaken, human! It’s not because of the cute action you just confer upon him, why would you even think that? He just thinks that a gift like this can be very useful, that’s all! He’s not smitten by your sweet smile, kind and thoughtful self, or the way your eyes shine when you’re happy... Wait, what was he saying? Oh, of course! He’s definitely not smitten by any of those things I just mentioned, so don’t you dare to think that after he gifts you your Valentine’s gift. What? It’s called being polite, you know?

Diasomnia might be the only dorm that doesn’t take down the gifts from the other students. Most likely because they were all a happy and beloved family... And also due to them thinking very highly of their presents. But is something that most people have done at this point, so the first part still stands.

“How come I didn’t know about this...”

“Oh, don’t worry, my prince! For the Prefect most certainly did this with love and effort for all of us!”

“It certainly seems that human put so much care into these...”

“What are you mumbling, Sebek?”

“N-nothing!”

“That’s right. If I gift Child of Man a present deserving of her, I can partake in this celebration with her.”

“What an enlivening idea! This makes the perfect occasion to try out that cookie recipe I got from Jade, kee hee~”

“Father, please don’t.”

INITIAL STOP: RAMSHACKLE

The wood of the door creaking was the only sound that could be heard upon returning to your dorm. Being accustomed to it, you didn’t think of it as you left Grim on the couch, sitting next to him while watching his peaceful face, far away in dreamland.

“Aww, isn’t he the cutest when he isn’t awake?” Brawley commented, appearing out of nowhere as he floated around the little creature.

“So, tell us, MC. How did you Valentine’s journey go?” Conrad asked, anticipating an answer that never came. “MC?”

When the ghosts turned to look at you, all they found was your sleeping form, who couldn’t resist the tiredness after a whole day of walking and searching.

“Poor thing. She must be so exhausted,” Arthur said, dragging a blanket to shield you from the cold weather. “I can’t believe she really took it upon herself to prepare all of those gifts.”

“Right? I haven’t seen anyone so determined to prepare so many boxes and chocolates without expecting something in return,” Brawley added, trying his best to sneak a pillow under your head.

“Well, she may not expect anything in return, but I’m almost completely sure those boys are going to return the favor,” Conrad voiced, placing Grim in a more comfortable spot close to you, careful to not wake him up.

After that, your ghost fellows decided to float around for a bit, talking amongst themselves to guess what the gifts your friends had for you might be, also questioning if they were also thinking of competing not only for your attention, but for your love as well.

THE END~

DON'T REPOST.

EVERY CHARACTER BELONGS TO DISNEY AND YANA TOBOSO, AND I DON'T TAKE CREDIT FOR THEM.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[sohnric]

to. my first – k. sunwoo

pairing: kim sunwoo x fem! reader

genre: 90s au. twenty-five twenty-one au, friends to lovers au, exes to lovers au. fluff, slice of life, coming of age, suggestive. highschool au, football player! sunwoo, baker! sunwoo. cheerleader! reader. first love au. what we call wet cat sunwoo. meeting your ex after years and falling back in love with him kind of thing.

warnings: alcohol, throwing up, swearing, reader has hair long enough for a ponytail, a heated make out session or two that alludes to them having sex but no actual smut happens, finger sucking, the reader moping around a lot, no plot just vibes.

word count: 31k

a/n: inspired by me telling @/csenke that sunwoo is my first love. why am i so soft for this man i truly dont know... thank you best friend for betaing this monster i appreciate it a LOT! also thank you to sana @/heemingyu and izzy @/from-izzy for the help on some parts of the fic and brainstorming the ending w me, as well as beta reading small parts of this.

spin-off to my fic millennium bug because sunwoo deserves love too! the reader from eric's fic is referenced to as MB!Y/N in this. you don't have to read the first fic to understand this one, but there are a lot of references in this and i highly encourage you to do so!

they say you never forget about your first love. you guess that's true. (or– a story about reckless love, first kisses, growing up, ambition, and inevitably, failure.)

August 2007

The laughter all around is electric. The music playing in the background makes you sway and hum to the melody, the familiar tunes making your insides light up with a different sense of nostalgia when you remember the times in which these songs were popular. Your tired limbs make you cut your way through the room and sit down on a vacant chair, not really caring about where your designated seat was anymore, just needing to rest for a second before you either throw up from exhaustion or faint from how tired your legs are from all the dancing. Paying a quick goodbye to Juyeon on the dance floor, you heave out a satisfied sigh when your bottom meets the cushioned seat of the chair, eyes zeroing on the filled dance floor.

Feeling a cramp in your foot, you scowl and lean down, ready to do the thing you’ve been desiring for at least the last three hours– if not the whole day. Hands playing with the strap on your heel, you make the shoe come undone before you slip the uncomfortable footwear off your feet, relaxing when your naked limbs meet with the cold tile on the floor. 

You don’t really know who in their right mind would have a wedding in the middle of the summer heat, but you guess there are people that are out of their mind like that– and those people are your friends from high school. 

Everything about coming back to your hometown has made you feel unpleasantly nostalgic so far– the streets haven’t changed a bit, your childhood home still looks just the same, furniture unmoved, and the air is still as crisp, yet humid as it always was during late August. It’s only tonight that finally makes the weird bittersweetness turn into joy. You’re back home with everyone you’ve ever known, with everyone who’s made you into who you are today. You’re seeing all their faces for the first time in ages– and frankly, it does feel good. 

The satisfaction in your veins stays for a bit until a figure dressed in a suit comes into your point of view. It’s not like you’re seeing him for the first time tonight– he’s a big character, even when it comes to this wedding, so it’s hard to not notice him– but as his legs take him towards you in a wobbly nature, it dawns on you that now is maybe finally the time you get to talk to him. Don’t get me wrong– there are no hard feelings between the two of you (or at least you don’t have any, you’re not so sure about his side of the story). It’s just that seeing him dressed in a tux, tie now a little loose around his neck, the twinkle in his eye still present as back when you were both a lot younger, there’s still a strong aftertaste of your feelings towards him somewhere on the tip of your tongue. 

His walk is a little lopsided as he grins at you and takes a seat on the vacant chair next to yours, a huff of air escaping his lungs as his body relaxes, limbs falling freely down the sides of his chair. His cheeks are a little red and his hair a little messy– there’s only so much to explain his composure apart from all the dancing he’s done.

“So I see that you still can’t handle your liquor well even after all those years?” you joke, making the boy turn his head to face you, an amused twinkle appearing in his smile. 

His eyes are still the same chocolate orbs you know, still the same soft look adorning them whenever he feels particularly ecstatic. He shrugs, jolting his bottom lip out before he sighs to himself. “Well, it’s not every day you are the best man at your best friend’s and your sister’s wedding,” he muses, shrugging. 

Laughing at his remark, once again taking in the state of the room– Juyeon, Hyunjae and Haknyeon each dancing somewhere in the middle of the dance floor, MB!Y/N’s friends from university twirling her around in the right corner, Eric staring at the bride with a warm gaze in his eyes, sipping on a drink while resting against one of the tables, clearly taking a mental image to look at every time he feels the need to– it all feels kind of surreal. Who would’ve thought all those years ago that it would end like this?

Well, Eric Sohn, for starters. He confessed to everyone in his wedding speech that he knew he wanted to marry MB!Y/N the moment she kissed him on New Year’s Eve of 1999– him being this cheesy was only acceptable because it was his own wedding. In any other circumstance, Sunwoo wouldn’t be able to let his best friend live this down.

It’s not like you ever expected those two to break up– it just makes you a little in awe at how fast time is passing. “It’s kinda crazy, isn’t it?” you hum, squinting at the flood of people on the dance floor.

“It is,” Sunwoo hums, tonguing the inside of his cheek, “still can’t believe they’re dating. Hell, they’re getting married right now…” 

“You can’t believe your sister is dating your best friend?” you laugh, wiping the sweat that’s accumulated off your forehead, the mist appearing there both because of your reckless dancing and because of the unbearable heat of the August night.

“That, and also the other way around,” he hisses, “but I guess they’re both so insufferable that they go well together, so I don’t know why I’m still so surprised.”

Chuckling at his comment– you guess the bond he has with his sister is never to be changed, no matter how many years have passed– you watch as he shrugs off his suit jacket and throws it over the back of his chair, starting to roll up his sleeves to expose his forearms. Eyes following his motions, you clear your throat and force yourself to look back into his eyes when he asks you a question. “What about you, though? Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am,” you nod, no hesitation, “it’s really nice to see all of you after so long. Plus, I’m having a lot of fun, so that’s a nice bonus." 

“I can see that,” he grins, “by the way you sat on my seat just now, and all–” 

“Oh god– I’m sorry,” you gasp, suddenly feeling a little silly. And here you thought he went up to you because he wanted to catch up… “I’ll move, if–”

The sound of Sunwoo’s hearty laugh lands into your ear– it’s just the same as it was back when you were both high schoolers, making your heart soar– before he shakes his head and urges you to stay with a motion of his hand, putting his large palm on your thigh to keep you from moving. “No, no, don’t be stupid,” he says, “I don’t mind. I was looking for you anyway, so you just made it easier for me by sitting here, actually.”

He was looking for you, resonates in your head, the familiar buzzing in your fingertips alerting you of the effect he has on you even tonight. God, maybe you were the one that had too much to drink…

“You were?” you ask, tone of voice light– not at all suspicious. 

Sunwoo nods, shrugging. “Well, I guess we have a lot of catching up to do,” he smiles, “don’t we?” 

Eyes meeting his, the contact feels electrifying to the point it makes your head spin when you look at him, taking in his glossy eyes and the flush of his cheeks. They’re less round than when you two were young, but his eyes still stay the same– big, round and tender.

He reminds you a lot of the time when you saw him drunk for the first time.

to. my first time getting drunk

April 1999

Havoc rings in his ears like jingle bells, the world around him spinning like he’s on a rollercoaster. His head feels like someone is installing a nail to the middle of his skull and when he looks around, Lee Donghyuck is staring at him with a glass bottle of soju in his hand, urging him to drink more.

Sunwoo doesn’t have it in him to do much else other than shake his head. It feels like he forgot all his vocabulary, not a single word coming out of his mouth or to the awake parts of his brain, watery eyes begging his classmate to not make him drink any more. 

What seemed like a good idea just a few moments ago– see, it’s prohibited to drink on school trips, but Kim Sunwoo is infamous for loving to break the rules– now seems like the worst idea of his whole entire life. He feels so sick he thinks he’s going to die of alcohol poisoning, but the laughter around keeps painfully reminding him that he hasn’t even had that much to drink in the first place. The amount of times he’s been called a lightweight this night is making his pride severely hurt, and even graciously intoxicated, he can’t bear the sting this is putting on his already hurt ego. 

“Come on, birthday boy! I’m sure you can handle one more,” Donghyuck urges, uncurling Sunwoo’s fist and placing the bottle into his grasp, making the poor boy wince and battle back tears. 

He knows he’s being embarrassing. The choice between not dying and not humiliating himself is rather a difficult one, but the moment he finally finishes the crossword puzzle in his brain and puts the glass opening against his lips, the bottle is thankfully taken out of his grasp and discarded somewhere where his eyes can’t reach.

“You’re done for the night, Kim Sunwoo,” you haul at him, shaking your head at the poor boy, “you’re done.”

Sunwoo wants to open his mouth and protest, maybe ask you what you mean, but the moment his lips unseal, he gets a sniff of the alcohol in the air and suddenly, he feels like throwing up. Your eyes lock with his, a pleading– maybe a warning– mirrors in Sunwoo’s gaze, and even though he’s so drunk he feels like he crossed dimensions, he applauds your ability to know just what he means by a single look into his eyes.

“Oh, Christ–” you curse, hurried steps moving to the corner of the room, swiftly grabbing the trash can and running back towards your friend sitting criss-cross applesauce on the floor. 

You make it just in time to catch the contains of Sunwoo’s stomach into the trash can, making the boy insanely grateful– he’s wearing the new shoes his mum got him for his birthday, and god knows he’d hate it if he ruined them the very first day he can show them off to his football friends.

The whole world disappears into the background as he throws up while making a mental promise to himself to never drink again. The only thing keeping him from losing it all is the feeling of your hand on his back, comforting rubs grounding him back to earth. Giggles fill his ears and he’s sure everyone’s laughing at him– even in his drunken state, he can recognise the shame filling his veins– but before he can open his mouth to argue with his classmates, the sound of your angry voice makes him seal his lips close and listen to the scolding you offer to his teammates for making him drink so much.

“You know he has a weak stomach, Donghyuck!” you huff and puff, your hand still drawing comforting circles to Sunwoo’s back as his head stays stuck in the bucket, not having enough energy to even straighten his spine. 

“It’s his birthday! Come on, don’t be so tight-arsed.”

“Well, do you want him to die on his day of birth? That’s not very cool of you,” you growl, the shuffle of your clothing and a pained “ow” escaping his friend’s lips hinting to Sunwoo that you just kicked the right wing to his shin. 

Deserved, Sunwoo thinks.

“Can somebody get Eric? I’m pretty sure he’s in Daehwi’s room with MB!Y/N, Minjeong and Jihoon,” you hum, waiting for anyone to follow your orders. 

Sunwoo blinks in and out of it, his consciousness giving up on him with the incredible pain in his temples. He feels incredibly grateful to have someone like you by his side not only now, but all the time. The two of you have gotten incredibly closer ever since he joined the football team– and with you being one of the cheerleaders, you’re always somehow around. Not that he’s complaining, of course. It seems like you are one of the more responsible ones in this room right now, and god knows Sunwoo needs a bit of guidance on his day to day ventures.

“Do you think you’ll be sick again?” you ask, voice soft in his ear. “Or can I take the trash can off you now?”

Sunwoo thinks for a bit, then he nods and lets go of the plastic bucket. He doesn’t know what happens to it after and nor does he care– it seems like the alcohol in his veins took away all his sense of object permanence. He can barely see anything in the yellow lights of the room (which makes him believe he is going blind from all the alcohol he’s had– don’t tell him it’s just his eyes getting hazy and confused with how much his head is spinning), but he’s sure he can feel you wiping his tear-stained cheeks (he wasn’t crying– his eyes were just watering) and pulling him closer to you when he threatens to fall over even in his seated position. Your hand comes up to play with his hair when you let him rest his head against your shoulder, your actions making him sleepy, eyes closing on themselves like a threat for him to fall asleep any second.

Something about the care, the loyal protectiveness you take over the boy makes his heart soften. He breaths in your scent, trying his hardest to focus on your presence and not the weird feeling in his stomach– although it’s settled a bit since he threw up, it’s still a little uneasy– and before he knows it, there’s a tap on his shoulder waking him up from the haze.

Sunwoo mourns, not really wanting to move from his position, too comfortable with your fingers threading through his hair– but much to his dismay, your soft voice appears in his ear, telling him he has to get up. “Can you walk on your own? We’re gonna get you back to your room,” you hum, your lips accidentally brushing against the shell of his ear, making everything in him light on fire. He’s not really sure if this is the effect alcohol has on you, but if it is, he’s certain he never wants to drink again.

“Sunwoo?” you call, the way you say his name suddenly all too angelic in his ears– but still not enough for him to answer. “Alright,” you sigh after the dreadful silence, taking charge of the situation, moving away from the boy and offering him your hands to hold on to as you try to get him on his feet, “I guess we’re gonna find out.”

His fingers intertwine with yours as he stares up at you, his vision blurry, but still sharp enough to make out your tired face. The sight is enough to make Sunwoo worry– is he being too much? Are you mad at him? Do you not want to be his friend anymore? – but before he has a chance to address any of those concerns, he’s being tugged up to his feet. Not ready for the weight of his own body, his knees buckle and refuse to work. There is a pair of hands clutching his arm automatically– yours– as another pair holds him up from behind by his waist. 

He’s not really sure who was his other savior, but by the silent curse heard from behind, he thinks he recognises Eric’s voice. 

“I know I shouldn’t have left him alone,” he hears his best friend say, voice full of frustration.

“You really shouldn’t have,” he hears you sigh, making the poor boy scowl.

It still feels like he can’t really speak, exhaustion taking a toll on him, but he follows the orders as you tell him to get on his best friend’s back– Eric’s crouching figure ready for the impact, waiting for the taller one to clutch onto him so he can carry him into the safety of their shared room. The operation has to be quick if they don’t want to be caught by their teachers while walking through the hall, and somehow, in the distant crevices of his brain, Sunwoo recognises that and he makes no battle to resist, doing exactly as he’s told.

“Man, you’re heavy,” he hears Eric huff under him as the poor boy carries him through the hall. “You’re gonna have a killer hangover tomorrow, dude…”

Sunwoo’s head rests against his friend’s shoulder, hands carelessly hanging around Eric’s neck. He tries to blink away the sleep, desiring to stay awake, when your concerned face appears in his vision and suddenly, he feels insanely guilty.

“I’m sorry,” the two words escape his mouth with no trouble– the first words to appear in his vocabulary after the few minutes of him being surprisingly mute– only to hear his friend chuckle.

“Well, you’re going to be dying from a headache tomorrow, not us,” Eric hums, “so I think you have to apologize to future you first.”

Sunwoo pouts, bangs falling into his eyes making him blink in a desperate try to get the stray hairs away, attempting to make eye contact with your side profile. “Are you mad at me?” he asks, voice a little groggy from all the screaming and drinking.

“What?” you ask, genuinely surprised to hear his question. Your face morphs into a confused expression, the one where a wrinkle appears in between your brows– and it takes everything in Sunwoo not to poke the little line with his pointer finger in utter endearance.

“Are you… mad…?” he asks again, watching as your face morphs into amusement.

“No,” you shake your head, a hint of a laugh in your tone. “Why?”

“You look grumpy.”

“I’m just worried,” you note.

“About?” Sunwoo asks, his intelligence morphing into a one of a 10-year old with the influence the alcohol has on him. 

“You,” you say, sighing and shaking your head as you move two steps in front of Eric and open the door to their room, closing it swiftly behind you and following the duo towards Sunwoo’s bed. 

The younger one drops the boy into the cushions of his bed with an exaggerated sigh (that might as well be real, for all we know– god knows you wouldn’t be able to carry Sunwoo on your own), and the comfort of the pillow around his head is enough to make Sunwoo’s eyes start closing again, sleep threatening to take over his consciousness.

There’s some noise interrupting his sleep, though, making the boy tear his tired eyes open to notice you walking through the room. Sunwoo finds Eric putting a glass of water onto his bedside table and watches as you put a trash can beside his bed, hushed whispers sent Eric’s way resonating in the quiet room. “Make sure that he sleeps on his side so if he throws up again, he doesn’t choke–”

“Y/N?” he calls your name, watching as you look at him with careful eyes.

“Hm?”

“Are you leaving?” he asks, maybe a little foolishly.

“Yes.”

The boy nods at your reaction, showing his acknowledgement. In the drunken state of his mind, he knows he doesn’t particularly want you to leave, but he’s also fairly certain, finding the rational thought in the sober part of his brain, that you have to leave, and so he lets it go. The drunken state of his mind wins, though, when the next sentence foolishly escapes his lips.

“Please don’t stop liking me after this,” he mumbles, words slurring.

“What?” you ask– confused because you either don’t fully comprehend what he’s trying to say, or because you truly just couldn’t hear what words escaped his mouth– but when you don’t get a clarification, you just nod at the boy, seemingly desperate to keep him happy tonight. “Okay, I won’t.”

“You won’t stop liking me?” he asks, a big pout playing with his features.

“No.”

“Okay.”

That seems to put his mind at ease– enough to make his brain finally turn off and lead him to sleep. He doesn’t really remember what he dreamt of that night, but the last memory he has of the night of his 18th birthday is that you promised to not stop liking him after seeing him a drunken mess, and how he so deeply wished you’ll continue to like him forever.

It hits him only a few months later that the thing he so desperately hoped for that night was that you’ll keep liking him even at his worst– that he didn’t drive you away and one day, maybe, you’ll like him more than just a friend.

to. my first detention

September 1999

Sunwoo was never the one to break the rules. 

Well, if you don’t count that one time he skipped class just because he got too bored of it in the middle of the lecture. And it wasn’t even that hard either– he just asked if he could go to the bathroom, and when he got the approval, he stood up and left, never returning. 

Or if you don’t count that one time he climbed up the ladder on the side of the school building with his friend Juyeon and had his lunch there. Or that one time he cheated on an exam and made a scene about it when accused of the act, leading the professor into letting him off just that one time. 

Sunwoo is usually too lazy to break the rules. Some days, paradoxically, his laziness is what leads him to break the rules. He can’t really help it, even if he tried.

The one time he does break the rules, expecting to be punished by his teacher for coming late to class, it’s not even his fault in the first place. Morning football practice ran late and he didn’t feel like rushing to change out of his practice clothing– see, the laziness is playing a part in this as well– so when he arrived into his Physics lecture, the clock was already 15 minutes after the bell rang for the first period.

Much to his surprise, his teacher didn’t even punish him. “Well, you’re an athlete, so it’s understandable,” he heard, making his lips stretch out into a subtle smile. If he knew that joining the football club would lead him to have such privileges, he would’ve done it a long time ago. 

How did he still end up in detention, you may ask? Well, that’s a funny question.

Your flushed face appears in the doorway of the classroom exactly 2 minutes after Sunwoo does, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand. Your hair tied up in a ponytail is loose now, stray hairs falling out to frame your face, your school uniform wrinkly, shirt not tucked in properly, as you spit out endless apologies to your teacher about being late for lecture.

“I’m really, really sorry about being late,” you bow, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you look around the classroom with apologetic eyes, “I had cheerleading practice and it ran a bit late, so I didn’t have enough time to–”

“Sit, Ms Y/L/N,” the teacher hums, “if you have time to do any other activities other than being in class, I’m sure you’ll have time to stay after class for detention, am I right?”

“Sir, I really–”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

Now, are you seeing the difference in the way you and Sunwoo were treated? That’s right. It may not look like it, because the young football player rarely puts effort into anything (other than the game), but when something angers him, it’s quite difficult for him to keep it in. 

And that’s exactly why his ass is currently sitting in one of the chairs of his classroom, legs spread wide as he looks around the silent room in boredom. Accusing his teacher for being sexist and holding to double standards wasn’t the best idea, but it was enough to get him into detention alongside you. 

His eyes get caught up with something– someone– sitting two desks in front of him, one to the right, scribbling their homework into their notebook. At least you are using up the detention time for important and useful things, he thinks. That won’t stop him from interrupting you in your task, though. Even better– it encourages him.

Tearing out a piece of paper from his notebook, Sunwoo fishes for a pen in one of his pockets, writing a short note that says: Wanna get ramen after this? before he crumbles the paper into a small ball. After watching the teacher for a few seconds, making sure that he’s not going to get caught, he throws the ball in your direction, aiming straight for your head.

He misses. Well, that’s why he plays football and not volleyball– he doesn’t have good aim when it comes to his hands– but nonetheless, the note ends up hitting your shoulder before it bounces off and falls to the ground.

Confused, you look around before you find Sunwoo staring at you, pointing towards the paper on the ground with a grin on his face. You sigh, sending a telepathic signal of ‘you’re acting like a child again,’ straight into his brain before you reach for the paper ball and take it into your hands, fingers uncurling the thin material and reading out the words he’s sent to you.

Only a few seconds pass before you throw the ball back to him– he catches it in his hands, earning an approving look from you at his strangely fast reflexes, making a sense of victory flow gracefully through his veins. A frown settles on his face when he reads out your reply, though.

can’t. I promised Aeri I’ll hang out with her later. we’re going for frozen yogurt.

Sunwoo furrows his brows. Oh how he hates to be denied. 

I can join!! i could use some froyo

You send a tired look to him over your shoulder when you receive the message, rolling your eyes at his comment. It’s obvious that Sunwoo can’t join– he knows it by the look in your eyes. Hell, he knew he wasn’t invited even before he asked– he just likes to see your frustration. Something about the way your face scrunches up, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, amuses him in a way he can’t really describe.

you could’ve gotten yours instead of staying in detention. what was that about, by the way?? I’ve never seen anyone willingly do detention… you must be out of your mind

The message makes him chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. His motives are clear– well, at least in his brain. If he stays in detention, he can see you for some more. Which means he can hang out with you more (or look at the back of your head from afar, whichever you grace him with on that particular day). And he wants to spend as much time with you as he can, well, because… because he just likes to do so. Why?

Don’t ask. He hasn’t thought it out that far yet.

I just like things to be fair. I came late too :(( 

He writes back instead. Fairness is the last thing he cares about if the world is in his favor. If the world is unfair to you, though– that’s another thing. 

weirdo.

You write back. The pen is already in his hand, ink getting hotter as he masters up a reply, when the loud voice of his teacher cuts through the classroom and announces that detention is over and they’re all dismissed. Something in Sunwoo’s stomach drops. 

Sighing, he puts the note back into his pocket (and will forget to throw it out. Then, he’ll find it there after a few days, unravel the ball and read over the letters with a smile. He won’t throw it out then either– he’ll crumble it back and keep it there until the paper wears out and forms into litter in the pocket of his pants). Gathering his things into his bag, he swings the backpack over one of his shoulders before catching up with you, already halfway out of the classroom. You seem to be in a rush to meet Aeri– he understands– but there’s still one more thing he needs to do.

Clearing his throat, Sunwoo approaches you from the back. “Hey!”

“Hi,” you hum, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. “Aeri’s waiting for me outside, so I gotta–”

“Wait, I– I have something for you,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. Why does he suddenly feel so nervous? The words his sister said to him yesterday keep resonating in his head, and although he knows it’s not true and he doesn’t see you in that way, his stomach churns and he clutches his hand into a fist by his side, a desperate act to ground himself.

“What?” you look at him, eyebrows furrowed, all confused. Sunwoo’s not the one to give gifts– sure, he pays for your meals sometimes, but that’s only because you share them and he comes to the logical conclusion that he eats more of the portion than you do anyways, so it’s only fair.

“Um… well, my sister… she was making those bracelets yesterday and she made me do it with her, because she’s really annoying when she wants to be,” he mumbles, fishing for the bracelet in the front pocket of his backpack, lying straight through his teeth. 

You stare at him with wide eyes, completely unreadable to Sunwoo. Well, he already said it, so he may as well just dig his hole even deeper. The yarn is soft under his touch when he twirls the bracelet in his fingertips, eyes focusing on the shades of red and pink, suddenly too afraid to face you and look you in the eyes. “And, uh… we made too many, so I brought you one, because… you’re my friend, and all,” he mumbles, chewing the inside of his cheek.

His sneakers are oh so interesting to look at in the few seconds he spends waiting for your reply. He feels like he’s in court, waiting for his ordeal– anxiety making him bounce on the tips of his feet, his other hand clutching the strap of his backpack for dear life. 

“Did you make that?” you ask, tone of voice genuinely appreciative.

“Yeah,” he shrugs. 

He did not.

“That’s– that’s really cute,” you gasp, making the boy finally look up. When he finds that the words are addressed to the bracelet his sister made, not his act of kindness, something inside of him gets irritated, but the little devil in his chest leaves just as fast when you meet his eye and take the yarn from his hands, examining the red and pink knots from a closer distance.

“Yeah,” he hums, not really knowing what to say.

“Can you tie it for me?” you ask, offering the bracelet back to the boy and smiling at him, waiting for him to circle it around your wrist and secure it to place with a knot. It’s a bit long, the ends sticking out to different directions, but Sunwoo admits that it does look quite nice against your skin, and that if he forgets about the fact that it was his sister who actually made the bracelet (even though he begged her to teach him for approximately two hours, going as far as bribing her with his snacks), he does feel quite proud of the gesture.

There’s something possessive about the bracelet, he thinks. It's like a sign to everyone that you have someone who cares about you enough to tie it around your wrist. It’s like saying hey, this is my best friend! No one else enjoys their company enough to make a bracelet to prove it, but me. It’s like a silent translation of the heart’s calling: this person is mine. They’re not allowed to take this off until I die.

Sunwoo feels a bit giddy as he watches you admire the yarn around your wrist. You sport the same expression as Eric did when he forced a bracelet out of his sister yesterday– eyes glimmering, the widest grin on your features. While he may be sure what the face meant when it came to his best friend (although he tries to close his eyes from the obvious crush he has on his sister), he’s not quite certain when it comes to you.

In his mind, you smile like this at everyone. You’re just that kind of person.

But oh does he wish you mirror Eric’s feelings on the matter. Oh does he hope you tell everyone he is the one who gave the bracelet to you– he hopes you boost in front of your friends, tell them just how much you like it.

…maybe his sister was right. 

Maybe the bracelet had a deeper intention.

August 2007

“So,” Sunwoo hums, taking a salty chip from the bowl settled in the middle of the table, looking over at you with a curious gaze, “how have you been?” he asks, chewing as he waits for you to answer.

It’s an easy question, one would think– and it’s true, it’s not the most difficult thing to answer. But considering the circumstances, the fact that you and Kim Sunwoo haven’t seen each other since you both graduated from high school, despite telling each other you’ll stay in contact and see each other whenever you have the chance to– it gets a little bit more difficult. It’s been 6 years, many things have changed, you had your fair share of good things happening to you as well as the bad. 

What do you tell Sunwoo, though– a friend you lost somewhere along the way, much like everyone? Well, you can’t really blame him for growing distant with you– although to this day, you don’t really know the reasoning. He was the first one to leave, and although you always wished him the best, nobody can really blame you for doing your part at flying out of your nest. Everyone has to experience the outside world before they can find their place in it, no? 

It’s not your fault that you weren’t as successful as you wanted to be… 

“Well, you know,” you shrug, “so and so. Many things happened, but I guess I’m doing fine,” you conclude, nodding to yourself.

The face Sunwoo offers you is one of concern. You recognise that this is not really what he wanted to hear– not really what he expected you to say. The both of you were always ambitious, shooting for the stars, so it would be nice to know that at least one of you finally chased down the dreams you’ve had since you were young.

“What about you?” you ask quickly, shielding yourself from more interrogation. “How did football go?” 

That has Sunwoo chuckling, averting his gaze. He takes a sip of the soda placed on his table before he turns to you again and answers the question, shrugging to himself. “Didn’t really go as I planned,” he says, nodding to himself. “Guess I lost many years on it, but oh well. Can’t really take it back now.”

“Don’t say that,” you hum, chewing on the inside of your cheek. The answer he offered you was not surprising to you– not that you didn’t believe in his abilities, not at all. It’s just that by now, if Sunwoo’s dreams came true, you’d be aware. You’d hear about him everywhere. You’d see him on the news, in the paper… It seems like your friend has disappeared out of the spotlight he always wanted even sooner than he could walk straight into the stardom. You wouldn’t say you were keeping tabs on him, no– you just cared enough to try to look for him in every place you could. “It wasn’t lost years. You did what you loved, and you tried your best.”

“I know,” he says, scrunching up his nose in an adorable manner before he sighs, “I’m just moping around. Besides, I quite like the life I’ve had since coming back home,” he admits.

“You do?” you ask, eyes glimmering in the lights. Something in you shifts– moves to a more comfortable place at the information. It’s strange that hearing that he’s doing fine still makes you feel at peace. It’s been years– you really shouldn’t care by now.

“I do,” he nods, “I work at Juyeon’s father’s bakery now. I didn’t really expect to like it, but there’s something charming about it, I’ll have you know,” Sunwoo says, taking another handful of chips into his hand before feeding them to himself, seemingly trying to chase down the tipsiness in his bloodstream.

That drags out a giggle out of you, shaking your head at the news. “I wouldn’t take you for a bakery kind of guy,” you say, “I can’t really imagine you in the kitchen.”

“Well, times change, Y/N-ie,” the nickname slips out between his lips like a punch to your gut, his teasing tone dragging nails to you in a weird sense of nostalgia, “I’m the best baker in town right now. People go crazy over my cinnamon rolls,” he nods, pointing a finger to you as if to prove his point.

“I find that hard to believe,” you squint at him, shaking your head in disbelief.

“You’ll have to come and find out,” he says, the sentence so casual that the contrast of his following statement has your heart drop a little, “well, if you’re… staying around for a bit, of course…”

Humming, watching as his eyes soften at the shift in your composure, you nod in agreement. “I’ll make sure to add that to my plan.”

Sunwoo nods in acknowledgement. Swallowing down the chips that were in his mouth, he dusts off his hands off the excess salt and licks his lips before speaking up again, seemingly collecting his thoughts. “So you’re staying around for a while?” he asks, a little bit cautious. 

He doesn’t really know how sensitive this topic is for you– you don’t even know if he’s aware of your previous whereabouts, if he knows where you left off to and why– but Sunwoo stays caring, no matter the amount of time you spent not talking, no matter the big canyon that slowly formed in between the two of you in the years of no contact. It’s something you’ve always appreciated about him. He liked joking around, but he always knew where the boundaries laid, always knew when the joke went too far. He tried hard to avoid poking around too much, but he always made sure to apologize if he realized he hurt someone’s feelings. He’s a spark of violent fire, but he’s also tamed like a fireplace when he wants to be– warm, comfortable. It’s easy to feel like it’s back in the old times when you’re around him. It’s easy to pretend neither of you ever really left.

“I am,” you nod. “Things… didn’t really work out for me either, y’know,” you chuckle, the dry kind that shows just how bitter you are about the matter. “I went to New York with the internship my aunt arranged for me in KBS, but I guess I just… wasn’t really good enough to keep full-time.”

“Don’t say that,” Sunwoo mirrors your previous statement, an honest attempt at comforting you.

“No, it’s okay,” you laugh, “I stayed abroad for a while, tried hard, but sometimes, it’s just not meant to be, y’know? So after I realized my jobs weren’t making me enough money for a decent living in the States, I came back home,” you say, mouth forming a pout as you speak– the kind that shows you’re lost in thought, making up a plan as you go, “I’ll help my parents out for a while and then look for something to do here, I think.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Sunwoo says, offering you a soft smile. “I… I guess I’d say it’s good to have you back,” he admits, averting his gaze as he says the words, “ever since I came home, it felt like something was missing, so… anyways, you’ll figure it out, so don’t worry too much.”

“Thanks, Sunwoo,” you hum, pressing your lips into a tight smile, heart squeezing a little at his sincerity. It’s strange– it’s been years, having lived through countless different situations that were supposed to change the both of you, shift you into two completely different people– but somehow, Sunwoo still feels the same. Almost as if you two never left. Almost as if you two never drifted apart and instead spent your early twenties side-by-side, just like you always planned on doing.

The boy looks at you from the corner of his eye, a content smile spreading on his lips. You feel the atmosphere shifting, the situation tensing up a bit, and with the discomfort the image of him leaving you alone brings you, the words slip out of your lips with a bit too much ease.

“Would you want to… dance with me? I wanna see if you still remember what I taught you,” you grin, watching as the playful expression mirrors on your friend’s face, a nod eliciting from him that makes you quickly put your shoes back on and get ready for the dancefloor.

“Of course,” he hums, standing up swiftly and wiping his hands on the fabric of his pants before outstretching a hand for you, tone of voice sweet like honey, “my lady?”

to. my first dance

November 1999

“Who are you asking to the dance?” you question one afternoon, the two of you behind the closed doors of his room. There aren’t many times where Sunwoo gets to invite you over– mostly because he’s too shy to have someone around when his sister is home, and his sister isn’t known to have that many friends to hang out with– so the times where he finds you settled on top of the sheets of his bed, he treasures deeply.

“I dunno,” he mumbles, looking up at you from the comfort of his rug, shrugging, “I don’t really think I’m going, actually.”

“Oh?” you gasp, pouting at the boy. “Why not?”

“I don’t really have anyone to go with,” he says. What he really means is– you’re going with someone else. Sunwoo doesn’t really see himself dancing with anyone else but you– that’s just that kind of bond you two have in his mind. Your friendship is dear to Sunwoo, and the boy can’t think of anyone else he’d like to spend the evening with. 

When his sister argued with him with logical words, telling him that he treasures his friendship with Eric just the same, but wouldn’t invite him to the prom, he just scoffed at her. MB!Y/N doesn’t know anything. He doesn’t treasure Eric in the same way, no matter the fact that they pretty much grew up together. Some things just don’t feel the same way with Eric as they do with you. He feels closer to you, in a way.

“Well, that’s bullshit,” you scoff, shaking your head at your friend, “you’re handsome. And you play football, which is every girl’s dream. I bet anyone would go with you if you just asked,” you propose, pointing a finger at the boy, not really noticing the way he blinks at hearing the words ‘you’re handsome’ coming out of your mouth in regards to him. 

Do you find him handsome? Is that your subjective opinion or are you just objectively saying what you’ve heard in the cheerleader changing rooms? 

He’d like to know. Just out of curiosity.

Sunwoo scratches the back of his neck in nerves, now fully seated and facing you. It’s hard to meet your eye when he talks, his words coming out muffled. “I can’t dance anyway, so it would be no fun for everyone involved.”

And watching you dance with his classmate Shotaro would be no fun either. See, it would be easy for Sunwoo to be okay with the fact that you were going to the prom with someone older (which is practically impossible, since you’re both seniors, just for the record…). He would understand your point, then. It’s easy to be okay with defeat when your opponent has the upper hand, but when you put two men against each other that are hierarchically equal to each other, much like Sunwoo and Shotaro, the poor boy finds it hard to not feel as insecure in his position. 

But with Shotaro being the same age as him and the same amount of popular as him, Sunwoo can’t help but compare himself to his classmate. What does Shotaro have that Sunwoo doesn’t? Is it his smile? Should Sunwoo smile more…? 

It doesn’t really help his case that you’re going to the prom with the head of the dance team. Sunwoo can’t dance… Is it the fact that he can’t dance?

Or are you just going to the prom with Shotaro because he was the one to ask you to go? Sunwoo can’t help but wonder– would you have gone with him, had he the balls and asked you first? 

“What do you mean, you can’t dance?” you say, eyeing the male. 

“Just… never learned to, I guess,” Sunwoo shrugs, “but it doesn’t really matter, since I’m not going, so…”

“But you have to go,” you pout, putting the boy in a difficult position. He doesn’t know if you’re aware of the fact, but your pleading look does wonders to his decision making. He’d commit arson if you asked him to with those glimmers in your eyes. He’d kill for you. Or die for you. Both, depending on the situation. He’d do anything.

“Why?”

“It won’t be fun if you’re not there,” you say, sighing. Your face looks so genuine Sunwoo almost believes it. It makes his heart squeeze and contemplate his decision. “I know Donghyuck is gonna spike the punch, and there are gonna be fireworks,” you hum, chewing on the inside of your cheek, “and this is our senior prom, Sunwoo… you have to come.”

The words resonate in his brain, making him even more hesitant about his decision. This is your senior prom– the last dance of your high school years. The last opportunity for Sunwoo to enjoy this time with you and his friends, the last chance he gets at seeing you in a pretty gown, all dolled up and smiling from the sneaky sips of alcohol you’ll get with everyone outside of the school gym. The last opportunity for Sunwoo to dance with you, his best friend, and possibly the last time he’ll ever enjoy his evening with the rest of his football team before all of them have to study in order for them to take their CSAT.

Maybe you’re right. Maybe he should go. 

“I’ll think about it, I guess…” he mumbles, watching as your face morphs.

“You guess?” you scoff, glaring at him. “You’ll go or I’ll personally come to your house and drag you there by your hair, you get me, Kim Sunwoo?” you threaten him, having the boy laugh at your outburst. You’re really adorable when you tease him, Sunwoo thinks. 

“Got it, chief,” he says, offering you a playful look as he salutes and lays back down onto the carpet, eyes pressed to the ceiling. “Don’t expect me to dance, though, because I refuse to embarrass myself. I have quite the reputation to uphold, you see.”

Sunwoo hears you chuckle, the noise of his sheets tousling landing into his ears. Before he has a chance to look at you and see what you’re doing, his view of the white wall above is shielded with the sight of your face, hair framing your cheeks as you stare down at him and put out your hands, waiting for him to take them and get up to a seated position. 

“What?” he asks, genuinely confused.

“I’m gonna teach you, come on,” you call him with a motion of your hand, arms still outstretched and waiting.

“Huh?” he squints, watching as you roll your eyes in frustration.

“I’ll teach you how to dance, Sunwoo,” you snicker, watching as the boy slowly takes your hands and lets you drag him up from where he’s laying on his electric blue rug, “so you don’t embarrass yourself.”

That has Sunwoo stuttering, his figure freezing even when you manage to somehow make him stand up in the middle of his room. A million different exclamation marks appear all over his brain, warning him from the upcoming events, but he has no way of denying your proposition now, no matter how hard he tries. “No- it’s- you don’t have to, I’ll just-”

“Okay, so,” you say, dismissing all his previous attempts at stopping you from your quest, “first, you put your hand here,” you order.

The skin of your fingertips touches Sunwoo’s hand, making the boy’s heart stummer in his chest. You drag his palm towards your waist, placing it on the curve of your body. He swears he feels electricity flowing through the contact, warmth radiating off your skin even though it’s shielded by the fabric of your favorite shirt. He gulps as you put your hand on his shoulder, his eyes carefully following your movements, examining every slightest shift of your composure. 

“And then you hold my hand with your other hand,” you instruct, but move to do it yourself when the boy doesn’t seem to have it in him to reach for your palm himself. 

Your fingers interlock with his, making the boy chew on his bottom lip in a sudden flash of nerves. You’re standing so close he can smell your perfume, the scent making his head spin and feel lightheaded. If you made him turn in this moment, he’s sure he’d fall over, weak legs barely holding him up in your close proximity. 

“Sunwoo?” you ask, making the boy gulp before he hums in acknowledgement.

“You have to look into my eyes when you slow dance,” you laugh, the sound soft and airy, but enough to have his stomach feel all weird, like he’s about to throw up. Still, he forces himself to look into your eyes, instantly feeling like you’re hypnotizing him. (He’s convinced he’d jump out of his window right in this moment if you asked him to.)

“Okay,” he nods, standing still, maintaining eye contact. His body is stiff, muscles tense as you just stand there for a moment. Sunwoo battles his inner fight and doesn’t look at any other features of your face– he has a weird obsession with staring at your lips whenever you talk to him lately. He feels like a weirdo every time he catches himself doing it, so he tries to get rid of the bad habit as much as he can.

“Now, you just… kind of sway to the beat,” you say. The boy nods, but his body stays unmoving.

“There’s… there’s no music playing,” he gets out, watching as you chuckle, your lips stretching out into an adorable grin.

“Right,” you nod, sighing, “well, I’ll just… let me just…” you mumble before you start humming a tune– one that makes Sunwoo laugh from how ridiculous it sounds, the notes so unfamiliar to him he’s sure you’re making it up as you go. Before he knows it, you start moving, making him mirror your actions. 

It’s not as difficult as he thought it was, he thinks. You stare at him, all encouraging, as you sway from one foot to the other, nodding at him when you see that he’s following your lead well. Dancing with you suddenly feels like the easiest thing in the world, it feels like he was born to have you in his arms, in the middle of his room as you hum an unfamiliar song to him. He thinks going to the dance won’t be so bad– not if he gets to dance with you there for at least one more time.

“Doing well,” you smile, making the boy feel all warm on the inside. A feeling of victory flashes over him for a mere second. He beams in your considerate words, feels fuzzy under your warm gaze. He feels like he just won the lottery. It’s kind of silly, if he really thinks about it.

A boyish grin appears on his face, having Sunwoo shaking his head at how both ridiculous and over the moon he feels right now. The stream of hums coming out of your throat cuts off for a second as you talk to him with an instructing tone, a warm gaze pressed into his features. “So you can either do this, or you can…” the hand that was holding his suddenly untangles itself from between his fingertips (and Sunwoo’s momentarily glad, because his palm was getting quite sweaty– although he admits that it does feel empty now that you’re not holding it), before you place his other hand on your waist as well. 

Something about the pose makes Sunwoo feel strangely intimate, a little bit bashful under your gaze. It only intensifies when your hands go up and entangle behind his neck, bringing you two even closer than before. The proximity has him blushing, red cheeks bringing heat to his face. He prays you don’t mention it– he really doesn’t know if he would be able to talk himself out of this one.

“Or you can do it like this,” you say before you lead the boy again, bodies swaying to an imaginary rhythm. You’re not even humming this time, having Sunwoo follow your movements in complete silence, his aimless movements mirroring your own. He’s surprised he hasn’t stepped on your foot yet when you decide to quickly teach him how to waltz (while also mumbling something about this dance being performed with the previous hand placement). He follows your orders– step forward, close, then another step backwards– and before he knows it, you’re leading him into a gentle turn, rising and falling in a ¾ count.

He’s getting lost in your voice– the softest “1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3,” helping him to stay in rhythm– before he’s pulled out of his trance as he feels your fingers playing with the hair on his nape, entangling yourself into his black locks. The motion has him look back up to your eyes (that have been previously glued to your feet, making sure he’s not stepping on your socked limbs), surprised when he sees you staring at him with a sweet smile playing with your lips.

Halting your movements for a bit, you let out a giggle and take him by surprise when your hand reaches up towards his bangs, ruffling his hair as he still holds you around your waist, the two of you almost hugging in his room. “See? Not that hard. You’re a born natural.”

His heart feels like it skipped a beat, a weird sense of panic enclosing around his chest. He doesn’t know what it is, not really knowing how to name the feeling, but it has him nervously smiling and urging him to escape you– escape your touch, escape your scent, your voice and the way you smile at him like you may feel the slightest ounce of the things he does for you, but refuses to accept on most days.

Rushed movements make him break apart from your grasp, quick breathing making him feel like he might spiral. 

“Hey! We weren’t done yet!” you call after him when he runs towards the door of his room. 

Not looking around, the boy gulps and nervously calls back to you, facing the door. “I’ll be back! I just have to pee!”

The door to his bathroom closes behind him with a loud shut. The boy doesn’t aim for the toilet– instead, he walks over to the sink, turning on the tap and splashing his face with ice cold water. When he’s done, feeling a bit less heated up, he looks up and stares at his face in the mirror. He gives himself some time to collect his thoughts, to hopefully let go of his foolishness.

How many more times will he have to remind himself that he only sees you as a friend?

to. my first date

January 2000

The snow crunches under his sneakers and makes Sunwoo slip on the cold surface– no wonder his mother screamed at him for not wearing his winter shoes before he went out with his friends. He bets it would be way less difficult to walk in the whiteness of the ground if he had more grip in the soles of his shoes, but oh well– he’s not really good at making clever decisions half the time. Nobody can really be surprised.

Somewhere along the way between the moment he’s interrogated his sister about the reason for her bad mood and the moment where he purposefully let her with his best friend at the top of the hill with no way out (he had a hunch the two of them had some things to talk about, from both of their uneasy demeanours for the last day), he realizes he lost both his sister and his best friend, and while he’s quite certain Eric can find his way home just fine, Sunwoo shivers at the thought of not bringing his sister home to his mother. He’s not quite sure he’d survive that. 

The quest of finding you both begins the moment the friend group reaches the top of the hill. Given his sister’s impulsiveness, she could’ve ran away from home, and that’s not what he wants to deal with on such a pretty winter day.

Sunwoo finds his plan being successful the moment he reaches the hot chocolate stand. The victory he feels after finding his younger sister alive and healthy is quickly overshadowed with the sight of his best friend’s face close to hers, very clearly going in for a kiss. He thinks he has to do something before he is permanently scarred with the image of them two making out right in front of his eyes as he gathers some of the icy texture into his hands and makes a ball, aiming straight at the head of his best friend.

The snow hits the both of them, right in the middle where their faces are supposed to meet. It’s not quite where Sunwoo was aiming, but he figures it’s good enough– it stopped his sister and his friend in the act, and that’s all he really cares about at this moment.

“Eric Sohn, what the fuck do you think you’re doing with my sister?” Sunwoo hollers, watching as his childhood friend takes off and leaves his sister alone on the bench to watch the conflict. The rest of the group follows with laughter as Sunwoo gathers more snow, tailing Eric and making sure the boy is punished for whatever he’s been doing.

It’s not like he disapproves. Not at all, actually. He just thinks it’s fun to mess with him a little.

“I didn’t mean to! Hey!” Eric cries out over his shoulder, trying his best to escape the frostbite. Karma is not on his side as he trips over something and falls to the ground, efficiently helping Sunwoo and the rest of their circle to corner the poor youngest, snow hailed on his limp figure. 

One would think the group of them were making a snowman with how they’re rolling the poor boy around in the snow. Juyeon and Donghyuck make sure there’s not a hint of skin unhidden by the ice, making Eric mourn and kick around– he’s left helpless, though, outpowered and outnumbered by his peers. If anyone unknowing was watching the scene, Sunwoo is sure he’d be framed for bullying.

He thinks it’s quite deserved. Why? He’s not really sure why. He just has a hunch.

“Okay! Enough!” Eric mumbles, shaking his head when Donghyuck tries to fit snow into his mouth. “I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!” he says, eyes opening wide as MB!Y/N appears somewhere behind her older brother, a teasing pout settled on her face.

“It won’t?”

“MB!Y/N– I– Just help me..?” the boy pleads, making the rest of the group laugh and finally relax, easing the attack. Juyeon hums something about young love, making the rest of the guys roll their eyes on his unusual cheesiness, before Donghyuck taps his teammate’s shoulder, making sure he’s paying attention to him.

Sunwoo raises his eyebrows at him, waiting for what he has to say. “Look, isn’t that Y/N?”

There are a few ways to catch Sunwoo’s attention. First– you have to mention football. He could spend hours on the topic of who’s the best player– Ko Jongsoo or Ahn Junghwan? If anyone asked him to write an essay on it, he’s quite certain he’d do a great job explaining their techniques and goal statistics for numerous pages. Second– you have to mention food. He’s a big fan of junk food, but ever since his friend Juyeon introduced him to their family bakery, he’s been a big cinnamon roll enthusiast. And third– you have to mention Y/N. 

Just the mention of your name is enough for the boy to stand alert, suddenly all too knowing of his surroundings. He turns his head to look for you, catching sight of your figure dressed in your long coat, standing all alone at the bottom of the hill. There’s an almost bored-looking expression on your face, although Sunwoo thinks there’s a bit of disappointment behind your eyes, making a cloud shade your them and make them lose their usual glimmer. That alone has the boy frowning, and before Donghyuck can say anything more or try to gossip about your sudden arrival, Sunwoo takes off– trying his hardest not to slip on the snow in his sneakers as he runs down the hill and tries his hardest to get to you quickly.

“Y/N!” he calls for you, getting your attention. You turn to him with expecting eyes, watching as the boy runs towards you and does, indeed, slip on the snow.

He manages to save it. Doesn’t mean you didn’t see him falter, though. “Careful there,” you grin, making the boy mentally kick himself in the shin at being uncool in front of you.

Sunwoo glosses over the comment, ignoring the previous two seconds of his life. If he acts like he’s not embarrassed, it might as well come true. “What are you doing here? I thought you said you’re hanging out with someone else when I invited you on the phone today,” he says, curious to know why you changed your plans so suddenly.

There’s a hint of bitterness in your composure when you shrug, averting your gaze. “That fell through, and I didn’t wanna… I figured you’d be here, so I came…” you trail off, your half-assed explanation enough to bring the boy into an inner conflict– one part of him feels bad for you, his heart clenching when he takes notice of your stern gaze and the disappointed expression on your face, the other one foolishly happy that he got to see you today, that you went here looking for him.

“Oh,” he nods, not really sure if he should pray more information out of you. He tried to ask you about it when he called you this morning, twirling the landline on his finger nervously when he asked you if you wanted to go sledding with him and his friends. He even mentioned his sister tagging along to make sure you didn’t feel as awkward going– you wouldn’t be the only girl there! You’d get along with her well, he said, not really sure if he was lying or not. Either way, his sister does need her own friends… “Well–” he starts, not really sure where his own sentence is going, before you cut him off with a rushed out sentence, spoken so quickly Sunwoo barely registers it in that confused brain of his.

“Would you wanna go on a date with me?” you ask, eyes big as you stare into his. 

The question takes a few seconds to register in Sunwoo’s brain. He can physically feel the auditory waves entering his ears and converting themselves into electrical signals by the auditory system. The signals enter his left hemisphere– maybe he could point towards the area with his finger if you asked him to, the impact of the question so present in his mind– and then it decodes in the Wernicke’s area, slowly, but surely making more and more sense to him. The boy gulps at the invitation. He understands the question theoretically now, he’s registered it in his brain, but the practical implication of your preposition is still unclear– why in the hell would you ask him to go on a date with you?

“I…” he stutters, feeling heat rushing to his cheeks. He feels like a fool– he should’ve said yes a few seconds ago, when you first asked the question– but something inside of him is telling him that maybe his reaction is valid. No one expects their friend to randomly ask them out on the bottom of a snowy hill. Certainly not when he was 99% sure you liked someone else.

“Look, it’s- it’s good if you don’t want to, really, I just… I was supposed to go on a date with Shotaro today, but he never arrived, and I…” you nervously scratch your neck, once again averting your gaze from him, “I guess I was hoping you were in the mood to go out with me, since I got all ready and stuff…” you mumble, your tone of voice breaking something inside of him.

Oh. So you weren’t really asking him out. You just didn’t want to feel like a fool that got stood up. How stupid of Sunwoo to think you wanted to go on a date with him. The two of you were just friends, after all. Best friends.

And best friends are for cheering each other up. So despite feeling absolutely defeated, Sunwoo battles the weird feeling in his chest and puts on his best smile. “Of course! Don’t even mention it. Where… where did you wanna go?” he asks, watching as your face relaxes, shoulders falling back to their natural position.

“Are you in the mood for some ramen?” you ask, eyebrows rising in question.

“I’m always in the mood for some ramen,” he nods. He’s always in the mood for whatever you are.

“Great,” you nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Great.”

“So… let’s go,” you say, nodding to yourself as you walk away from the hill, having your best friend tailing you, following you towards the ramen place in the center of the town.

There’s a bit of an awkward silence hanging over you as the two of you escape the sledding area. Sunwoo doesn’t even pay his goodbyes to his friends and his sister, but he trusts that Eric can get her home safely when the time comes to head back. The boy mentally curses out Shotaro for standing you up– how does he dare to ask you out and never arrive? He doesn’t care about the possible circumstances of his classmate’s absence. All he cares about is the saddened look on your face and the unusual quietness enveloping your aura. 

“Should I go kick his ass?” he asks, trying his hardest to make you feel better.

“It’s okay, Sunwoo,” you shake your head in disapproval, eyes pressed to the ground.

“Are you sure?” he asks again, not satisfied with your answer. “I’m quite good at fighting, contrary to popular belief, but if things go wrong, I know my friends would have my back,” he says, playfully punching the air.

The little play consisting of him kicking and punching an imaginary figure goes on for a while until he’s satisfied– meaning: until you’re left laughing at his overly exaggerated movements and grunts, shaking your head in disbelief at his boyish antics. Taking his hand in yours to make him stop with the play-fighting, you drag your now interlocked fingers towards your coat pocket, hiding his cold hand in the thick fabric.

Sunwoo’s heart beats fast at that, making him believe it’s going to run out of his chest any minute now– or make him go into cardiac arrest, either or– as he grows speechless, looking at you with big, surprised eyes. You don’t seem to put much meaning to your gesture, going as far as gently caressing your thumb over the back of his palm, his frozen skin growing hot at the contact. 

He’s never held hands with you before– if he doesn’t count the amount of times you dragged him around when the both of you were late for the shared cheerleading and football practice on Tuesday afternoons– and so the intimacy of the act makes him feel strangely weak in his knees. It’s hard for him to take his eyes off you, almost looking like a deer in the headlights to anyone watching you two right now. Sniffling from the cold, you shrug.

“It’s okay,” you smile, sending him a quick glance, “I didn’t really like him like that anyway. It just… feels a bit disappointing to get stood up, that’s all,” you nod.

Sunwoo nods at that too, something in him shifting. You don’t like Shotaro like that? When was this piece of information when he really needed it? (For like the last month, every time he couldn’t fall asleep because the thought of you marrying his classmate at one point in the future haunted him too much and made him want to poke the dance club leader’s eyes out?)

“I get it,” he says, walking along with you. Every time he feels the eyes of someone on you two, he feels his chest filling up with an unfamiliar sense of pride. Something about being seen with you as you’re all dolled up and holding his hand in your coat pocket makes him all giddy on the inside– no matter if this is a real date or not.

Because screw it, Kim Sunwoo is tired of reminding himself that he’s supposed to only see you as a friend. Because he doesn’t.

“I’ve never been on a date before, though, so you have to teach me all about that too,” he hums, tonguing the inside of his cheek. 

That has a giggle escaping your throat, another shake of your head in disbelief at his words. He doesn’t know what’s so funny, but he decides that as long as you’re laughing, he’s fine with feeling the tiniest bit of humiliation. He’d do anything to make you happy, he thinks. It’s a feeling stronger than him and he doesn’t know how to make it go away– he decided to stop battling it a long time ago.

“Just be yourself, Sunwoo,” you say, “that’s already perfect enough.”

Perfect. Sunwoo’s cheeks grow hot at that. He’s happy that it’s cold out– maybe he could blame his blushing on the weather. The boy isn’t so sure you know about the effect your words have on him. He’s always thought of you as perfect– flawless, funny, friendly, smart, kind and… and beautiful– but the adjective doesn’t quite seem fitting when he looks at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t believe you could hold him to such standards. He’s nothing special. God, he knows he’s not good enough for you– still, he keeps wishing he could be. 

“You look really pretty, by the way,” he hears himself say, the words escaping his mouth before he has the chance to stop them. The tone of his voice is quite unnatural in his ears, softer than it usually is, and somehow, the comment makes you roll your eyes, which he finds to be an unnatural reaction.

“You don’t have to say that just because you’re on a date with me,” you hum, eyes not meeting his. (Which might be a good thing. Sunwoo would like to keep his feelings hidden for a bit longer, and he’s not so sure you wouldn’t recognise the tender inkling he has towards you in his longing gaze.)

“I’m not saying it because of that,” he mutters, voice quiet, yet honest. 

Watching the side of your face, eyes still glued at every feature of your profile, he knows he’s not lying. He finds you oh so pretty even in the faint hue of the winter sun, with your scarf pulled up to the middle of your chin and hair pinned up with a pretty, silky bow. He finds you nothing short of angelic. Perfect. It’s kind of silly, if he really thinks about it.

Still, he can’t help himself. To this day, he counts the afternoon he spent with you, eating ramen at your favorite place, to be the first date he’s ever gone on.

Somewhere in the corner of his soul, he begs you count it as real too.

August 2007

It’s only a couple of days later when you find yourself in front of Juyeon’s father’s bakery, nervously chewing on your bottom lip and gazing at the glass door. The sun is shining strongly down on your skin, making you feel like you’re going to get a sun stroke if you keep standing in the direct light for any longer, and with the pressure of both the weather and your own thoughts, you decide to stop wasting time and push the door open, entering the establishment.

Not really sure if you’re welcome– who knows, Sunwoo might have just been acting nice and civil for the sake of not ruining his sister’s wedding– you prepared a mental shopping list of things you wanted to get at the bakery. You hadn’t seen your parents in a long time, so you thought a few donuts might make them happy. If Sunwoo just treats you like any regular customer when you walk in, you’ll take it as your sign to act like one and let this whole thing go. 

Truth be told, you don’t even know why you’re so nervous. It’s not like you’re promising yourself something more from this… right? 

It’s not like you suddenly felt younger again when seeing him at the wedding. It’s not like the memories choked you up when you went to sleep that night, it’s not like the feelings you had for the young boy suddenly waved at you in greeting, reminding you of just how close the two of you were all those years ago. 

Not at all. Why would anyone even think that?

The ring above the door makes a sound as you walk in, your insides clenching in a weird mix of nerves and anxiety at encountering Kim Sunwoo again. The store is empty when you reach the counter, but you’re soon greeted by the sound of the staff door opening, a tall figure stumbling in with a tray of pastries, yelling out a quick: “I’ll be right there!”

And as you watch Sunwoo with his bangs sticking to his forehead, an apron tied tightly around his thin waist, you feel like he hasn’t aged a single day and you two are still the same teenagers that ran around your school in order to not miss practice. The boy looks up at you from below his eyelashes, a boyish grin taking over his features as he puts the hot tray down on the counter and throws the kitchen towel he’s been using to shield his skin from the heat to the side, greeting you.

“Y/N! It’s nice seeing you again,” he beams, wiping his hands on his apron, gaze gluing to yours and never leaving, capturing you in a sincere eye contact that you don’t have the heart to break.

“Hi, Sunwoo,” you chuckle, pressing your lips into an honest, yet a little bit awkward smile. “How’s it going?” you ask, desperate to keep the conversation going– afraid that if it dies down, you won’t be able to revive it ever again and you’ll just regret it forever. There’s a weird sense of urgency in you, like you have a time limit to figure everything out– like you have to act now, or everything you ever wanted might slip from between your fingertips– yet, the more you watch Sunwoo in the serene atmosphere of the sweet-smelling bakery, you notice yourself relaxing.

“Good! Better now that you’re here, actually, it’s been a slow day,” he muses, nodding to himself. “What about you? Can I get you anything?” he asks, eyebrows raising, round cheeks on full display as he stares at you with an expecting smile.

“I’m doing well,” you nod, humming, “really well… catching up with my parents, settling in and stuff… You know the deal,” you laugh. “I actually came to get some donuts for my parents, sort-of like a thank you gift for letting me stay until I figure out my own place and stuff,” you say, watching as Sunwoo urgently nods with acknowledgement.

“Say less, darling,” the nickname slips out from him a little too easily, a little too casually for the way it captures your heart. It has you nervously shifting from one foot to another, insides warming up with the impact of his fleeting gaze as he moves to get a box from under the counter, moving closer to the glass vitrine filled with the sweet pastry. “Your mum loves these ones,” he points towards the donuts coated with the pink glazing.

It’s kind of weird– how Sunwoo knows exactly what your mother likes, despite him not being around your house every other day like when the two of you were teenagers. It makes you realize that even though you moved away for years, the time here didn’t stop. Everyone moved on with their lives, everyone continued on as if nothing happened. And you can’t hold it against them– you guess you just hate the weird pit in your stomach that opens up with the realization that while Sunwoo knows which pastries your mum likes (most likely because she stops by to buy bread often, taking some treats with her for her and dad while she’s at it), you don’t.

You try hard not to show it on your face, though. Sunwoo continues to pack more donuts into the box, not really attempting to ask you for what you’d like– he just chooses himself, making sure you bring home the best ones of the bunch, the most delicious ones they carry. Letting him do his work, merely watching as he carefully moves the donuts from the vitrine to the box, you hear him continue on with the conversation.

“You came in on the right day,” Sunwoo hums, “Juyeon works tomorrow, so you wouldn’t be able to catch me if you went.”

Ignoring the fact that he sees right through you– sees that your intention was to see him, to have a way to visit him and attempt to rekindle whatever bond you had when you were young– you just chuckle. You can’t blame him for knowing you so well, despite not being around each other for so many years. When you were young and in love, you used to call him your soulmate, after all. You guess there’s always a hint of truth, even in the most lovesick fantasies. “Well, then I’m glad I went in today,” you admit.

Sunwoo smiles at that– the kind of smile you always loved at him, the one where he shows his teeth and his eyes crinkle up into moon crescents. Once he’s done packing your donuts, he puts the box on the counter, showing you his back just as fast when he turns around, seemingly grabbing something else as well. When he’s facing you again, there’s a sweet pastry in his hand, still warm.

“What’s that?” you ask when you notice him offering it to you, eyes peering into his.

“A cinnamon roll,” he says, waiting for you to take it into your hands, “I told you everyone goes crazy over my cinnamon rolls, so I wanna see if their magic works on you too.”

“Is this how you flirt with girls over here?” you chuckle, but take the bun into your hand nonetheless, taking a hesitant bite of the treat. The sweetness melts on your tongue, the warmth of the freshly-baked pastry enchanting you with its taste, something about its essence weirdly reminding you of home. 

“Haven’t tried it before,” he shrugs, “so tell me if it’s working,” he jokes, watching as you chew on the roll. 

“Well, is it any good?”

Humming in satisfaction, delight on the tip of your tongue as you swallow down the heavenly dough, you nod. “It’s to die for, Sunwoo.”

“Told you,” he shoots you a cheesy finger-gun, reminding you so much of your best friend from high school, before he turns and takes a paper bag from somewhere, talking to you as his back faces you again, “I’ll get you some more to take home with you. I bet they didn’t have those in the Big Apple.”

“If I knew I was missing out on these, I would have come back quicker,” you joke, watching as Sunwoo turns to you with an amused look on his face, seemingly enjoying the praise.

The eye contact unarms you again, your composure falling just the slightest. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you clear your throat and reach for your wallet, ready to pay and leave so you can think about the interaction on your way home (and overthink every slightest detail, just like teenage you would after every fleeting touch young Sunwoo would send your way). “How much do I owe you?” you ask.

“Oh, it’s on the house,” he says, licking his lips, “consider it a… welcome gift, if you will,” he hums, offering you the box full of donuts and the paper bag consisting his infamous cinnamon rolls, your skin touching just the slightest when you take them from him, but still making electricity jolt through the nerve endings of your fingertips.

“No, Sunwoo, I really can’t-” you shake your head, but get caught off by him.

“Take them, please. You can pay me back some… other time?” he cautiously says, seemingly not really knowing if he’s still within your desired boundaries. 

“O-okay, then,” you nod, agreeing to the subtle invitation– the subtle promise to meet again, the hopeful question leading into something more. “Thank you, Sunwoo,” you hum, smiling as you turn towards the door and get prepared to walk out, giving both of you some time to think about what happened in the last few minutes.

As you open your mouth to say goodbye to him, hand landing on the doorknob, you hear him call after you once more.

“Oh and Y/N?” he says, a confident look suddenly overtaking his features. “I end here at 5, if you’d like to hang out after.”

Unknowingly, a grin appears on your features, the one that’s so strong you can’t really mask it no matter how hard you try– as you nod at him, the victorious feeling flowing through your veins maybe even a bit dangerous. Still, you don’t have it in you to turn the invitation down– you wouldn’t be able to even in your wildest dreams.

This is what you came here for, after all, isn’t it?

“Okay,” you agree. “So… I’ll see you later?”

“See you later,” he nods, teeth capturing his bottom lip. It’s kind of adorable. He couldn’t battle the smile threatening to pull at the corners of his mouth, no matter how hard he tried.

Maybe coming here– coming back home– was the best thing you could’ve done.

“Wanna come in?” Sunwoo asks. It’s a few hours later– you followed through with his invitation and waited for him in front of the bakery at 5:05 sharp, catching him after his shift. You two took a walk through the whole town, waltzing slowly through his neighborhood until you reached his childhood house. You remember far too many afternoons spent in the comfort of the walls, and although you think it would be nice to revisit those memories, you notice his mother’s car (is it still hers? You have no way of knowing.) in the driveway, and suddenly, you’re too shy to join him as he drops his stuff off in his house.

It’s like you’re a teenager again– except, you never had any problems meeting his mother before. She was a nice woman, although a little busy (you only heard Sunwoo complain about the fact a few times– mainly when he was feeling sentimental or particularly under the weather about something), and she always treated you very nicely. Almost like you were supposed to join the family one day. His sister once asked you if you’re gonna marry him, and you laughed at her back then– you were so young, you didn’t even think of having a wedding with Kim Sunwoo. The funniest thing was the timing: you weren’t even dating him at the time. Or planning to, really. Sure, you always imagined somehow spending the rest of your life with him, in one way or another, but the thought of marriage didn’t often cross your mind. Life is ironic, you think– MB!Y/N was the first one to have a wedding and here you are, retangling your life paths with her brother again. 

So no, you were never really scared or shy in front of his mother. Back then, things were different though. Simpler? You’d say they were definitely easier. You were more extroverted and open, more ambitious and less embarrassed of how your life turned out to be.

Also, you didn’t want to give her any ideas. It’s far too soon for that, you think. 

“No,” you shake your head, hesitating a little bit, “I’ll wait for you here,” you say, watching as he smiles at you and nods, walking inside of the house to drop off his things and change.

You two didn’t really have any plans for the rest of the evening. You told Sunwoo he could show you around town, tell you what changed and what stayed exactly the same, since he came home earlier than you– you bet it could be two or three years ago. He eagerly nodded, although noted that not much is different in your hometown and your walk could turn out pretty uneventful. No plans were set in stone, though.

Nervously shuffling from one foot to another, you decide to walk around the yard. Sunwoo’s house was always big– although it seemed more giant to you when you were a teenager. It’s a strange observation, since you didn’t really grow any more inches since you hit puberty. Your eyes study the flowers in front of the gate, the mowed grass, the big tree in the backyard. If you focus hard enough, you could almost see the two of you laying under it, letting the leaves shield you from the sun, both much younger and carefree than now. Sunwoo would show you pages of his favorite comic books and you’d play on your Tamagochi, making sure it doesn’t die in two days like his did when he first got it. When you turn to your right, you see the garden house you two– sometimes with his sister, sometimes with Eric, sometimes with both of them at once– spent many afternoons in.

There used to be an old, red sofa inside. There wasn’t much space, since it was filled with gardening supplies, Sunwoo’s and MB!Y/N’s old bikes, flower pots, packs of soil and all other things you could need for gardening, but it was fun to hide away from the sun in there and drink iced tea, talking about whatever came to your minds or solving nanogram puzzles in comfortable silence (or occasional sigh from Eric when he got stuck somewhere in the middle of his crosswords).

Your curiosity gets the best of you when you open the door, deciding to see if it’s still the same inside. Your eyes widen when you notice the garden house a little less packed than before– mainly because Sunwoo’s mother no longer does gardening in her free time and buys her vegetables on the market like your mum does, you presume– but instead, it’s full of all the things the childhood you knew so well.

Sunwoo’s old bike– red and a little rusty, but you bet it could still work. The rug they used to have in their dining room is now in the middle of the little garden house, stained with dirt. Next to the usual red sofa is a leather armchair that they used to have in their living room for a while, the dark brown fabric now worn out, chapped and peeling off. In the corner of the room, you find a box filled with various sports equipment– tennis rackets, a yellow tennis ball, a jumping rope, and lastly, a half-deflated football. The sight of it has you sighing a little, reminding you of Sunwoo’s composure when he told you about how he never got to pursue his childhood dream fully. 

Your eyes glaze towards his old skateboard, having you chuckle, the memories of him riding it down the hill in front of his house appearing in your mind. Sometimes, he would be there with his sister and his childhood friend Eric as well (that more often than not let MB!Y/N borrow the board, watching her with lovesick eyes instead of riding it himself), the young boy trying to teach himself tricks he saw on the TV.

“Do you think I still got it?” you suddenly hear Sunwoo ask from behind your shoulder, making you jump in surprise. The male laughs at your shocked face, shaking his head in disbelief at your easily shaken composure. 

“You scared me,” you breathe out, clutching your chest for good measure, to show him how much you really mean it– your heart was racing, and contrary to popular belief, the sight of him in casual attire (a gray hoodie, so similar to the one he used to wear in high school, baggy Adidas sweatpants covering his legs) wasn’t the reason for the little heart attack.

“So did you!” he exclaims. “I got outside and didn’t see you there, I thought you ran away for a second,” he hums.

“As if,” you mumble, “I walked all the way here, why would I leave so suddenly?”

“I dunno,” he shrugs, “you could’ve changed your mind, or something,” he says, his composure suddenly as boyish as when he was just a teenager, something in your heart softening. You guess he sometimes still carries some of the same insecurities he tried so hard to mask when he was young. Some things don’t really change, but you really wish at least this would’ve.

Smiling at him, you shake your head. “I don’t think you still got it, though,” you go back to reply to his initial question, pointing towards the skateboard.

“Well, who knows,” he peeps, “maybe I could do an Ollie, or something.”

“I really don’t think you could, Sunwoo,” you laugh softly, watching him regain his statement competitiveness.

“Wanna bet?”

“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t want you to break your bones, so let’s just say I believe you,” you giggle, watching as the boy mirrors your expression, his gaze softening. 

A short moment of silence overtakes you two as you sigh and look around the garden house, instinctively taking a seat on the red sofa covered in dust. You bet it’s been years since anyone’s sat on it, and you’re glad to be the one revisiting its comfort. It’s like solidifying your return– like the old piece of forgotten furniture in Sunwoo’s garden house is the spawn point of your childhood. “Doesn’t this make you nostalgic?” you ask, eyeing your companion.

“Well, I live here,” he shrugs, “so not as much as it makes you, I suppose. Having you here again makes it more nostalgic, though, I’ll give you that.”

His words have you overcome with something bittersweet. Seeing the town you love so much makes you almost regret you ever left. The rational side of your brain reminds you that you gained a lot of experience abroad, though, and so you settle with being just a little bit remorseful of your past self for being so overly-ambitious. 

“It’s weird,” you allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of him, the essence of him being your best friend– your first love, the first person you ever felt safe with– overtaking you in the moment of weakness, “it’s like everybody moved on, but I stayed here.”

“Well, not everybody moved on,” Sunwoo hums, referring to himself. “Juyeon stayed, too. Eric and MB!Y/N are moving only a few hours away… Haknyeon lives down the street now,” he points out, a poor attempt at making you feel better.

“Yeah… it’s just… I hoped I would do big things. I hoped we would both do big things,” you say, tone of voice quiet, your eyes avoiding him. It’s hard to keep eye contact with him when you share your struggles– at least that’s the way it always was when you were young. The look he offered you always made you feel so tender, so cared for that you wanted to burst out crying. In your age and state, you can’t afford to tear up in front of your ex-boyfriend anymore.

“Sometimes, things don’t work out the way we want them to,” Sunwoo says, tone of voice considerate. “And that’s fine. I wanted to be a star, and I’m not, but that’s okay, because hey… I’m happy anyway. I’m content. And I know that one day, you’ll be too. It just takes a bit of time.”

Snickering, you play with your fingers in your lap, legs plopping up and crossed, striking an almost defensive pose. “Were you… were you embarrassed when you came back?” you ask.

Sunwoo laughs, the sound so heartfelt it makes your insides squeeze. “Terribly. I mean, look at me in my mid-twenties, still living with my mother. Even back then, I felt like a failure. I felt like a disappointment, but… then I realized not everyone had the opportunities I had. Not everyone almost made it professional, you know, and that’s still something to be proud of.”

“I’m still living with my mother, but hey– she’s getting older and the house is big. MB!Y/N moved out, and I wouldn’t want my mum to get lonely… so I think I’m doing pretty well, given the circumstances,” he says. Pausing for a heartbeat, as if collecting his thoughts, he continues. “I think you should find the positives in your situation too. Not everyone got to live in New York... Work for the national TV… That’s still a huge achievement, and I think you should be proud of yourself for that.”

Rolling your eyes– although grateful to hear the words– you snicker. “It’s hard to do that right now…”

“I know,” he nods, smiling when you finally look at him. “It takes time. And until then, well, for what it’s worth, I’m really proud of you. And maybe… maybe you coming back home is how life’s supposed to go anyways.”

Biting down on your lower lip to stop yourself from tearing up– see, you knew you shouldn’t have looked the boy in the eyes during his little pep talk– there’s suddenly a weight leaving your shoulders, heart softening and growing more tender. Your wounds seem to sting a little less. It’s strange– even after so many years, he still knows just the words you need to hear.

“Yeah,” you nod, voice barely louder than a whisper, a soft smile playing with your lips, “maybe.”

to. my first kiss

March 2000

His eyes stay glued to the TV in your living room, the boy almost looking hypnotized as he focuses on the program running, furrowed brows and all, showing his utmost concentration. A sigh lands into his ears, but goes unnoticed when you enter the room, a scowl sitting on your face. “Sunwoo! I told you to watch the oven! What if the cookies burn?”

“Yeah…” he mumbles, not a single word coming out of your mouth truly registering in his brain.

“Sunwoo!” you grunt, but when you get no reply, you just choose to roll your eyes and walk into your kitchen yourself, opening the oven and making sure the cookies you two have been baking haven’t burned down into coal yet. Not long after, you plop on the sofa next to your best friend, tone of voice still showing a bit of frustration at his carelessness.

“You shit on Eric for watching those, but you’re just as bad,” you hum as you notice the kdrama going on in the TV. It’s one of the ones that hardly make any sense and each scene is overly-exaggerated and repeated at least twice to create impact, but Sunwoo finds himself living for the drama. Each argument has him examining the scene, mentally rooting for his favorite characters– and although he is busy with football practice nowadays, he doesn’t skip a single episode of Happy Together. 

It’s not as entertaining as the manga comics he borrows from Hyunjae’s father’s comic shop, but he figures that it’s good enough to pass some time… and indulge over.

“I think they’re gonna kiss,” he notes, pointing towards the screen.

“Oh, good point, Sherlock Holmes,” you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief. If there was something you’d expect out of your friend, it seemingly wasn’t his enjoyance of cheesy dramas that air in the afternoon hours of the week. 

And Sunwoo admits, he was never the one to enjoy romance. Hell, it was something he always made fun of when it came to his friend Eric– he was not the one to watch romantic comedies, he wasn’t the one to tell girls cheesy lines or bring them flowers on Valentine’s day. He does seem to be enjoying the laughable scenes rolling on the TV a little too much lately, though.

Maybe he should start hanging out with Eric less.

The scene slowly transforms into close-ups of the two main characters, showing them instinctively closing their eyes and leaning towards each other, eyes trained on each other’s lips. It doesn’t take much to predict the next actions, but Sunwoo still finds himself restless in his seat when they finally kiss, legs kicking up and a gasp escaping his mouth. One would think he won the lottery or was just greeted with the greatest surprise ever, with how he’s reacting. None of the two are true, though.

“Oh, wow,” you hum next to him, seemingly not really interested in the drama as much as your best friend is.

“You’re ruining it,” Sunwoo sighs, looking at you as you roll your eyes and settle deeper into the couch cushions. 

“Oh, sorry,” you note, but your composure stays a bit annoyed. 

Sunwoo watches the TV for some more– the scene of the two characters kissing stays on the screen, slowed-down and repeated, in the true 90s TV show fashion– before his eyes trail off the device and move towards you, glazing your side profile. He takes notice of your casual attire– you changed out of your school uniform in the time he was supposed to watch the cookies baking in the oven, and something in his stomach churns, making him blurt out the random question that so suddenly appears on the tip of his tongue.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?” he asks, genuinely curious. He doesn’t even know why the response matters to him so much– he also doesn’t really know what reply he’d like to hear better, if he’s being honest– but now it’s out in the open and he can’t take it back.

“Hm?” you hum, snapping your head towards him. “Oh. Yeah, I guess…”

“You guess..?” Sunwoo repeats, furrowing his brows. How can one not be sure? 

“Well– yeah. It only happened once, though,” you shrug. It takes everything in Sunwoo to not ask who you kissed and when, or under what circumstances, and decide to despise that person until the day he dies. It’s not his business and he shouldn’t even care in the first place… He can’t say he’s disappointed in your answer– it’s your life and your decisions– but something inside of him screams that now, he can’t be your first no matter how hard he’d try. (It’s not like you’d want to kiss Sunwoo anyway, so he really doesn’t know why he’s making such a big deal about it.)

“What about you?” you ask, the question catching the poor boy off guard. He didn’t necessarily expect you to ask him back– so much to his title of Sherlock Holmes– and the reality that he can’t lie to you takes him out in full force as he bashfully stares out of the window.

“No,” he peeps, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

There’s something embarrassing about admitting to the girl you like that even at the ripe age of 19, you’ve never kissed anyone before. Shame creeps up his neck and adorns his cheeks after the simple word slips out of his mouth, eyes refusing to meet yours.

“Really?” you ask, and you sound genuinely surprised– there’s a hint of Sunwoo’s ego recovering, but he thinks the hit was too hard for him to ever recover.

“Yup,” he says, a popping sound heard as his lips voice out the last consonant, the view of him playing with his own fingers suddenly more interesting than anything else happening in your living room right at this moment.

“I thought– nevermind,” you hum, scratching the back of your neck, “why are you asking?”

“Just… just curious, I guess…?” he stummers, shrugging. 

A moment of silence overtakes you two– enough to make the boy instantly hate everything he’s ever said on the matter. If there could open up a hole in the ground right now to swallow him, he’d jump in with much enthusiasm. Why did he have to ask?

“Do you wanna try?” you suddenly propose, making the boy’s heart feel like it burst and threw him into a cardiac arrest. His hands start sweating, his cheeks tint red and it feels like all oxygen was suddenly sucked out of the living room, his lungs collapsing on themselves.

You seem to try to save the situation, noticing the utter shock on his face. “I mean– you don’t have to, but I… I wouldn’t mind, and it’s– I don’t know… if you wanted to practice with me, or something, I’d be down to…” you stutter, chewing on your bottom lip as you finish the little tangent, terror evident in your eyes.

Sunwoo feels like a little boy that just found his favorite gift under the Christmas tree. Like he found the most pricey toy there, the one he always wanted, and now that it’s there, he’s scared to actually play with it, because he doesn’t want to break it. Much like your friendship, he thinks. There’s too much to lose if he crosses this line, and he’s very much aware. 

But the offer seems tempting. Almost too tempting. God, he doesn’t think he could say no.

He may not be your first kiss, but you’re asking to be his. This sounds like a dream, if he really thinks about it.

“You know what? Just forget–”

“I’d– I’d like that…” he mumbles, trying really hard not to avert his gaze from you.

Your gaze softens, nodding your head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“Okay,” you nod again, moving a little closer to him. Your knees knock into the side of his thigh, your whole figure now facing him on the sofa as his legs still point forward to the TV. He keeps staring at you, a little nervous, but expectant. “Are you sure? You don’t have to do it just because–”

“I’m sure,” he cuts you off, watching as your face relaxes, a smile appearing on your lips at the next addition. “I want to.”

“Okay.”

You move impossibly closer, your crossed legs in contact with his clothed skin. He curses the thin fabric of the pants of his school uniform for making him feel every slightest flex of your muscles when you move, making his skin flare up and burn. He keeps staring at you, watching you as you lean closer to him, your faces now inches away from each other. Sunwoo finds himself focusing on every feature of your face, counting the eyelashes framing your eyes, glazing over the sparkles in your orbs. You stay close for a minute, unmoving. 

Eyes locking, Sunwoo finds himself gasping a little, breathing shuddering when he notices your gaze falling to his lips. Your breathing mixes, air meeting his face when you breathe out a minty breeze. His heart is already racing and you’re not even doing anything.

When he finds you finally moving towards him and notices your eyes shutting close, he mirrors your actions, but stays unmoving. After what feels like eternity, he feels something soft pressing to his lips, warmth spreading from that part of his face to the rest of his body. The contact of your lips with his is gentle, like you’re testing the waters, and although the feeling is unfamiliar, Sunwoo decides he doesn’t hate it.

The weird firework show in his stomach actually suggests that he’s quite enjoying it. Your lips break away from his for a bit, rewarding him with only a peck, and before the boy has the chance to think this is it and it’s over, you dive in for more and kiss him again, this time longer, more firmer.

Your hands come up to cradle his cheeks, holding him close. He feels himself burning up, his composure completely crumbling when he feels you smile against his lips. 

“You know you can kiss back, right?”

“Mhm,” he hums, opening his eyes to see you staring at him with a tender look.

“Try it,” you say, hands gently coming up to brush his bangs away from his face. If anyone was looking at the two of you now, Sunwoo thinks they’d conclude that you two were in love.

And maybe Sunwoo was, by the way he was looking up at you like you hung the stars on the sky. By the way he was staring at you with such a vulnerable look he feared you might see right through him, see right to his core and call him out on every unconfessed word hiding in his heart. He looks a little scared, a little tense, still, but his eyes don’t lie. They never do. There’s no one else that could make him feel the way you do.

“Okay,” he nods, moving in his position so he’s facing you, ready for more. 

He mirrors your previous motions, leaning towards your face. He wets his lips and closes his eyes when he’s sure he’s close enough to not miss your mouth, and after another deep breath in to calm his nerves, he presses against you. He feels you freezing under him, a momentary panic spreading all over his chest as he thinks he’s done something wrong, before he feels you kissing him back.

A whole other sensation takes over him when he feels your lips moving against his, his fingertips buzzing when he drags his hand up and moves your hair behind your shoulder, large hand resting on your jaw. He’s not sure if he’s doing this correctly– hell, he’s never done this before– but after you move a bit and entangle your hands behind his neck, pressing against him a bit more firmly, yet still tender and gentle like the first time, he recognises that somehow, it feels right, and he thinks that’s all evaluation he needs for now.

The need for oxygen makes him break away from you, breathing heavily as he opens his eyes and finds you resting your forehead against his, smiling. “Like that?” he asks, shamelessly staring at your wet lips, already yearning for more.

“Something like that,” you nod, giggling. “You still need more practice, though,” you suggest, making the boy frown.

“Was it that ba–”

Rolling your eyes at him, frustrated at the way he always needs everything spelled out for him, refusing to take a hint, you press your lips against his again, teeth clashing a little when Sunwoo picks up the pace and kisses you back. The TV is a mere white noise in the background now, everything around you two disappearing, all of Sunwoo’s senses focused on you and only you. He could get lost in the way you taste– like strawberry bubblegum you bought at the store on the corner of the street– and the way you feel against him– soft, tender, warm.

He feels like he could burst. He knows his hands are a bit sweaty, but he’s only half aware of the fact when his palms move to hold your cheeks, much like you did to him before, and your hands entangle in his hair, playing with the strands.

He could stay like this forever, blissfully unaware of the consequences of this act. He could kiss you over and over and over again, even if it meant he was still bad at it and needed more practice– he could get lost in your scent, in the tender way you hold him to you, in the way you keep smiling against his lips whenever he does something to surprise you: like get a little bolder and angle your head by your chin with his thumb, getting more comfortable.

He’s glad he’s sitting down, because he’s quite sure his knees are too weak to carry him right now. When you break away from him again, lips swollen and eyes blown-out, he thinks you might just be an angel. He’d love to engrave this image into his memories forever.

Although, he’s doubtful that he could ever forget about this. Or anything about you, really.

And even as you suddenly gasp, finally aware of the world around you, running to the kitchen and screaming: “Sunwoo! We forgot about the cookies!”,

he wonders just what more you could teach him about life. He’d follow you to the end of the world if you asked him to, holding your hand in his and not thinking twice. He’d bring you down a star, if you only so expressed you would like one. He’d do anything. 

You taught him what friendship is. You taught him what it means to care for someone. What it means to have someone special. You taught him how to drink (although by scolding him when he was hungover. He felt cared for even with your stern gaze). You taught him how to slow dance– even though you spent the prom with someone else. Just now, you taught him how to kiss.

And although you’re unaware, he’s quite certain that when he’s 19 years old, spending each of his days with you, although unaware, you taught him how to love someone too.

August 2007

You feel kind of silly, standing in front of the bakery as the sun sets over the horizon, the clock striking near 5 in the afternoon as you gnaw on your fingernails and hesitate a little before coming in. Pushing the door open and slipping inside, the male currently sweeping the floor looks over at you, a look of pleasant surprise sitting at his face and a sunny smile sent your way upon your arrival.

You don’t really know why you keep running back to him. The whole town reeks of familiarity to you, every corner and inch of each street filled with the essence of your childhood and your whole growing up. It’s not like you don’t have anything else to ground yourself back to, but somehow, your inner voice always keeps calling for Sunwoo. It’s weird– it’s been ages and you shouldn’t feel like this around someone who you haven’t even properly dated for that long, if you don’t count the few months before he left– but it’s something you can’t control, an essence you can’t hold back. 

“Y/N,” he calls for you, “what are you doing here?” he asks as he continues his routinal cleaning, putting the broom away behind the counter. 

It’s a stupid question. You bet he realizes it too, but you’re somehow glad he is taking initiative. This way, you don’t have to be the first one to spark the conversation. This way, you know you’re welcome. 

“Oh, well,” you shrug, “I’m… looking for you…?” you say, tone of voice suggesting that you’re hesitant, almost a little shy to admit it to yourself. 

Maybe you’re foolish for feeling this way. Because you know what all those things mean– you know what the lightness in your stomach is, what the giddy feeling resonating through you whenever the male smiles at you is. You know that thinking about someone constantly, more so before you sleep, isn’t an usual occurrence with someone you pay no attention to, with someone you don’t care about. You’ve been in love before– with the same man that’s standing right in front of you as well, funnily enough. You know what this all means.

But with how he’s inviting you in, letting you into his little bubble, you think it’s not as bad of a thing. He’s not pushing you away. He’s not building bridges. He’s the same way he was all those years ago, and you’d hate to find out that all of this wasn’t something more and was just him being nice.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” he chuckles, wiping his hands on the apron still tied around his waist. “I’m off in a few, though, so if you want anything from the bakery–”

“I’m not here for the food,” you laugh, dismissing him with a wave of your hand. The boldness is unusual for the present you– there’s a hint of your past shining through whenever you are with the boy, though. Maybe you like this sense of familiarity. Maybe you like to feel real again– maybe you like to feel like yourself. It’s hard to admit it, but you did lose your sense of identity after moving abroad. It’s hard to stay true to yourself with so many new people around and with so many expectations and responsibilities. The pressure changes you, and you now rely on Kim Sunwoo to bring you back to default– to where you’re supposed to be.

“Okay, then,” he nods, thankfully not making a big deal out of your desperate visit, “what would you like to do?” he asks, eyes sparkling under the lights when he looks at you. It’s like an open invitation– he gives you the chance to tell him how you’d like to spend your time with him. He did this a lot when you two were younger as well. It felt good to have someone that would make the effort to enjoy your hobbies with you– no matter how disinterested he could be in the matter.

“Hang out… I guess…?” you hum, shrugging. You didn’t really have anything planned. All you knew was that you wanted to be with him. It’s like the heart’s calling– you don’t know when your inner monologue got so cliche.

“Anything specific?” he asks.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shake your head in disapproval. You fear that you disappointed him, let him down in some way– you came all the way here, after all. You could’ve made something up on the way, couldn’t you? But still– just like the Sunwoo you once knew, so lively and full of ideas– he just purses his lips for a second before speaking the suggestion into existence.

“Well… do you want to bake with me? Like the old times?” he says, sending you a look full of warm honey.

You wouldn’t say no to that invitation. You’d be crazy to do so.

The Kim Sunwoo you used to bake cookies with in the comfort of your kitchen back home wasn’t so skilled in making the dough like he is now. He wasn’t so good at knowing the recipe from memory, nor was he gifted with the kitchen appliances he has now, all professional and shiny, reserved just for the use of the bakery. You don’t really know if he even had the love for baking in him back then– you just know you two enjoyed your time together, and when you are young, that’s all you really cared about anyway. It didn’t matter that he let the cookies burn sometimes. It didn’t really matter that they didn’t turn out well on some days– all morphing into one big block, making you cut the dough into pieces so you could eat it when you accidentally added too much butter. 

He still looks the same, though. A few years older, but with the same boyish aura to him when he wipes dirty hands on his apron. All grown up now, but still with the same glint in his eye whenever he looks up at you in between your conversations. When you’re with him, you no longer feel the distance between who you are and who you used to be, the distance between you and him. It’s like the old days, but a little better.

Maybe you have more time now.

The two of you work on the cookie dough, enveloped in a comfortable conversation. “You have to add more sugar,” Sunwoo hums from next to you, watching as you work on the mixture.

“Isn’t it funny how I was the one always giving you directions when we baked together and now you’re the one ordering me around?” you laugh, taking the sugar from the counter and sprinkling more in, listening to the opinion of a professional.

“Well, my cookies don’t turn into one big blob of dough anymore,” he jokes, laughing. “Besides, it’s my job now, so you’d kind of expect me to be good at it.”

“You can’t be so sure of that…” you hum, shaking your head.

“Why? Do you have any experience with being bad at your job?” 

“Oh you bet I do,” you laugh, nodding. “I was an intern before, Sunwoo. A colleague of mine once tried to console me by saying being an intern means being bad at the job, so it wasn’t that big of a deal, but I still cried myself to sleep multiple nights,” you conclude, thinking back to your New York endeavors.

“That bad?” Sunwoo asks empathetically.

“Yeah. Mixed up everyone’s coffee order on my first day. When I was confronted about it, I tried to play it off by saying I don’t have a good memory…” you muse.

“Well, it’s hard to remember a lot of stuff at once, to be fair–”

“I was getting coffee for three people, Sunwoo. Objectively speaking, it shouldn’t be as hard…” you say, now thinking back to the events of your internship with more humor than embarrassment.

Sunwoo laughs at your story, shaking his head in disbelief. “Not worse than my teammate back in Boston. The first match of the season, he scored a goal against our own team. His reasoning? He used to play against the goalie back in high school, so he got confused.”

The boy takes over at making the dough once it’s the turn to add in the chocolate chips, glancing at you momentarily when you laugh at his anecdote. Watching him from the side, you heave out through your laughs. “That’s actually hilarious,” you get out, washing your hands in the sink. “What about some funny stories about yourself, though?”

“Don’t have any. I’m too perfect to humiliate myself like that,” he notes, pressing his lips together and raising his eyebrows at you in an ironic expression, nodding.

“Oh, as if–”

“How is it?” he asks you suddenly in the middle of the sentence, seemingly done with kneading the mixture. Sunwoo puts the cookie dough in front of your lips, waiting for you to taste it. You’d do it all the time when you were both teenagers, but back then, the gesture didn’t feel half as intimate as the mere image of it does now.

Locking eyes with the male, you hesitantly open your mouth and let him put the dough into it, tasting the sweetness on your tongue. Sunwoo’s eyes darken, as if he’s just realized what he’s done, the weight of the situation falling down on him as your tongue comes in contact with the skin of his fingertips. Gulping, he watches as you suck the tip of his digit into your mouth, getting all last remains of the sweetness off of it, something in the air shifting towards a direction you didn’t expect from tonight.

“Good,” you nod, licking your lips, “delicious.”

Seconds turn to what feels like eternities as you stop all motion and look into each other’s eyes, finding any hint of disapproval with the so obvious turn of events. His chocolate orbs peer into yours, making you ignite with something close to an urge you can’t control, his eyes anchoring themselves to the curve of your lips when you decide to let go of all anxiety and insecurities and just go for it. The cookie dough was sweet, but you’ve never tasted anything sweeter than Sunwoo’s lips. You might just have to refresh your mind, you think.

Leaning closer to him, your breathing mixing in the few centimeters left between your mouths, you relish in the déja vu this action brings you. It feels like yesterday, yet also centuries ago since you last kissed the male, and although you’re sure you enjoyed it back then, you wish you could’ve told the younger you to kiss him more often, more firmly, with more passion, maybe even sooner. For longer. 

Pressing your lips against his first, almost like always– since Kim Sunwoo was a bit shy with his kisses when you were both just high school seniors– your eyes shut close and everything around you disappears. You guess there’s something about baking that makes the two of you want to feed off each other’s lips– except this time, it’s not practice anymore. It’s not innocent, it’s not clueless. This time, it’s real, alive and passionate. You can’t say you hate the sentiment, the weird parallel your relationship has come to. It’s like you’re reliving your life again, but this time, you know how the story ends– you know how to fix the ending. How to keep him here.

Sunwoo’s more experienced than he was when you kissed him for the first time. He’s less shy and more bold, lips firmer against yours, but still careful and gentle. His hand comes up to cradle your jaw and position you so he has the best access to your mouth as he slips his tongue in, as if chasing down the taste of cookie dough he fed you just a few seconds ago, and although you liked to battle him when you were young, you let him win this time– you let him take you home, bring your mind to where it’s supposed to be.

Hands gripping the front of his shirt, but immediately going to circle around his neck when a particular movement of his makes you moan slightly into his mouth, you play with the hair on his nape and feel him shuddering under your movements, an automatic response that makes fondness spread over your chest. Everything about him is familiar to you– he still reacts the same way to your tender ministrations, he still smiles against your lips when you tangle your fingers through his hair and want to ground yourself in the touch. 

You know him like the palm of your hand. It’s easy to get lost in something you are so familiar with, in someone that was once your everything. It’s easy to indulge too much in something that was forcefully taken from you, to get right back where you left with him, because time and circumstances were never on your side.

A touch of his hand on the side of your neck, lips trailing down your mouth towards your jaw. The boldness, the urgency of his movements is enough to have you turn your back against the counter, his body pressed tightly against yours. His palms under the backside of your knees have you sitting up on the cold marble, his lips never breaking away from your skin. 

You’re enjoying the shift in the dynamic. You’re enchanted with the way he handles you, like he’s been starved of you for years, wanting to chase down all the time you spent away from each other. Breathing heavily, feeling his plush lips sucking down on the sweet spot under your ear, then trailing down the side until he reaches the juncture of your neck, an involuntary “God…” slips past your mouth.

“I missed you,” he says, words muffling against your skin, “I missed you so much, I felt like I was going crazy.”

The confession makes you dizzy, your whole body growing weak. It’s like he knows exactly what words you wanted to hear. It’s like he knows what haunted you all those years, what you kept asking the universe on sleepless nights over and over, praying for an answer. It’s like he knows exactly how to get you close to him, to have you completely let go of the past. 

“I missed your jokes,” he says, planting a kiss on your neck. “I missed your smile,” he presses another one a little more up, “I missed your laugh,” another kiss, now on your jaw. “I missed holding your hand,” a peck planted to the corner of your lips, “and I missed kissing you…” he trails off, pointing his attention back on your mouth, locking the two of you together again, as if kissing you was his new addiction and you were the drug.

Sunwoo’s hot hand creeps up your waist, fingers slipping under the thin fabric of your tank top. The contact makes you shiver in response, your bodies still as responsive to each other as back when you were 19, and when you tug at his bottom lip with your teeth and slip your tongue back into his mouth, you feel the boy tug at the right strap of your top, sliding it down your shoulder. You’re barely registering the bowl of dough to your right, the fact that you’re in the kitchen of Juyeon’s parent’s bakery, or the fact that you only just met the boy two weeks ago for the first time in years. All you focus on is him– his touch, his taste, the way he makes you feel. All you know is longing. The desire.

Before you have the chance to take anything further, the sound of the door opening makes you jump away from each other– your head almost hitting the top cabinets, had Sunwoo not instinctively put his hand there to shield you from the impact. Before you get a chance to register what’s happening, a familiar voice calls for you, their tone a little guilty and bashful. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean to interrupt, or anything–” Juyeon peeps, clearing his throat. 

Glancing at Sunwoo, you see his cheeks redden at being caught by his older friend, yet his eyes still roll in annoyance at the interruption. You can’t help but try to hide your face into his shoulder– it’s not like you’re embarrassed of being with Sunwoo, you’re just embarrassed that it had to happen here, of all places.

“Well, you just did,” Sunwoo grunts, frustration coating his words.

“I’m just here to grab something,” Juyeon hums, almost racing through the room to get to the fridge on the other side of the kitchen, taking out a carton of milk from the inside and showing it to the two of you. “This is gonna go bad soon, so I’m taking it home to use it. Uhm.. anyways, well, don’t let me stop you in anything… bye!”

Neither of you greet the male back, instead sharing a meaningful, knowing look between each other. The view of your first boyfriend with his lips puffy, cheeks flushed and hair a little disheveled makes your senses go crazy, and although you’d like to continue what you started, you don’t think now is the right time or place.

Hopping off the counter, you smile. “So… where were we with the cookies?”

to. my first girlfriend

May 2000

Eyes trained on the ball, feet restless as he runs across the field to retrieve it and pass it to one of the shooters– either Donghyuck or Jinyoung, the more capable ones of the team– Sunwoo finds himself completely focused on the game. It’s one of the last matches of the season, and since he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to play his favorite sport again– he hasn’t received a verdict on the university applications he sent yet– the boy figures he should enjoy each game like it’s the last. Because who knows– one day, it may as well be, and if he’s not prepared for it, if he has any regrets, he knows he’ll take it harder than he’s supposed to.

Kim Sunwoo’s position in football is midfielder. While Eric once told him that it’s a loser position, since he’s not the shooter and he doesn’t score many goals (which is a lie– the boy had him know he scored his fair share despite his defensive position on the field), Sunwoo’s grown to love it. He’s the one that’s supposed to counter all attacks on his teammates. He’s the one that runs after the ball and passes it to the shooters, so technically, he’s the reason why any of them even have the opportunity to score. His position is as important as any other player's, and he takes pride in the compliments he gets from his coach whenever he does particularly well at a game. 

Sunwoo loves football. He’d say his first love is football, but something inside of him keeps telling him that that’s a lie (don’t ask him why. It’s a secret.). It’s the first game he’s ever been exceptionally good at, the first thing he could do for periods longer than a few weeks. He’s been playing with the ball since he was young, and although he never had a father to kick the football around with in his backyard, his sister was always happy to be included in anything he was into at the time– when she got older, she even got better at being his designated goalie, although less interested in the play itself. Sunwoo feels like he lets go of all worries when he plays. It’s good to have an escape, something to keep his mind occupied. He doesn’t have many things to worry about, but he finds that kicking the ball around, making strategies in his brain on how to get it to his teammates the fastest, is enough for him to get out both his frustration and get something nice out of it. He enjoys the thrill. He enjoys the excitement, the shared joy of the team whenever someone scores a goal. He is addicted to the ecstasy in his veins whenever his team wins.

It was easy to determine that if Sunwoo wanted to do anything for the rest of his life, it would be football. It’s what he enjoys, what he loves. It’s what he’s good at. 

It’s strange to imagine a time when he wouldn’t play football. He doesn’t even want to imagine it in the first place– it makes a chill run down his spine and an unsettling feeling churn in his stomach. In a perfect world, he’s always a football player.

Everyone keeps telling him he could easily make it professional, if he tried. 

Football is how he met most of his friends. It’s how he met Juyeon– he was the captain of the high school team when Sunwoo was a sophomore, and he found that hanging out with the older boy was easy and fun. It’s how he met Donghyuck and Jihoon (before the latter dropped out of the team after a few months). It’s how he met you. 

His coach always warned the players about dating the cheerleaders. For his coach, it wasn’t right to do so– it would throw off the dynamic of the game. “Nobody wants their ex to stare at them during their game!” the coach had said– not even thinking of the possibility of any of those teenage romances to last. Sunwoo only laughed back then. It wasn’t something he should be afraid of– he never liked anyone on the cheer team.

Until… until he did. Sunwoo met you on one sunny day, at your joint cheer-slash-football practice. You pointed out that the number on his jersey– 03– was your favorite, and the boy felt himself smile. Ever since then, he never wore any other number. He considered it to be his lucky charm. What started as friendship blossomed into something much more for the boy, and somehow, he can’t even remember when the feelings he had for you morphed into adoration. He doesn’t know when they shifted Into absolute enchantment, or Into a silly crush– he doesn’t know when he started seeing you in a light that was more romantic.

Wearing your favorite number on his back, Sunwoo runs towards the opposing player. There’s something akin to an angry face playing with the man’s features, and Sunwoo imagines it’s because of the very clear lead his team has on them. Sunwoo makes sure he doesn’t slip as he tackles the opposing player– he swears he heard someone call the shooter Jaechan– and as soon as he secures the ball, Sunwoo aims to forward it to his teammate.

The screams resonating all around him– although he tries hard to filter them out to focus on the game completely– suggest that it’s only a few moments before the game is over. It wouldn’t matter even if they didn’t score the goal, but something inside of Sunwoo’s heart leaps at the thought of winning with such a lead. The boyish excitement only grows when he watches Donghyuck retrieve the goal and run towards the goalpost, neon-orange sneakers shining through the green grass.

“Come on!” Sunwoo cheers, a hopeful spark lighting within him as the boy prepares to shoot, eyes quickly scanning the field.

And Lee Donghyuck almost never lets him down. Maybe that’s why he liked the boy so much in the first place– Sunwoo didn’t like players that dismissed the chance he won for them. He liked the skillful ones. The ones that knew what they were doing. (He also liked Donghyuck’s humor. He found himself grateful to have a friend so funny. He made even losing feel like it wasn’t such a big deal.) 

Choosing the golden shooter proved to be a good idea once again– Donghyuck, number 35, shoots for the goal and the ball gets in. Seconds after, the sound of a whistle is heard across the place, the game over with Sunwoo’s team winning 4:1.

Everyone cheers– yells from the audience are heard, excitement reeking through the air. The whole football team gathers around, sweaty bodies sticking together as they perform some sort of a cliche group hug, arms patting each other’s backs and complimenting each other’s play. 

The commotion dissolves shortly after. Sunwoo finds himself trying to catch his breath, eyes looking across the space for someone in particular. His heart leaps even harder when he finds you standing at the edge of the field in your cheer uniform, a big smile plastered on your face. Your eyes are glimmering as they meet with his. Your hair is a little tousled from the routine you just finished doing and there are smears and smudges on your cheeks from the face paint you used to symbolize the team’s colors– blue and gold. Over-all, you look ecstatic.

Sunwoo finds himself running over to you before he even registers that he’s going to do it. He’s like a fast, unguided missile, the goal of getting to you as fast as possible being the only thing resonating through his excited mind.

“Good jo-” you grunt as the boy finally gets to you, words cutting off when he (maybe a little harshly) puts his arms around your middle and picks you up, twirling you around. You screech a little into his ear and he finds himself laughing at your reaction. It’s like a runner's high– he feels like right now, he is capable of everything. 

“Okay! Okay! Put me down!” you laugh when you start to get a little dizzy. The boy complies, since he’s running out of strength to carry you anyways, and puts you back to your feet. His arms stay tightly wrapped around your body, though, locking you into a secure hug. 

“We won!” he cheers, the brightest grin settling to his lips as he announces the obvious. 

You beam at him, eyes soft and crinckled into little moon crescents, a dumbfounded smile playing with your features. “I know, Sherlock,” you dismiss him again with the teasing nickname, shaking your head in disbelief, “I was here. Cheering for you,” you say.

And sure, Sunwoo knows that by you, you don’t necessarily mean him in particular– more like cheering for the whole team, the whole 11 players on the field– but something about the sentiment makes his stomach feel all light and a slight blush spread over his glowing cheeks. You were here– cheering for him (and his team) – and although you’re here out of your own will, out of your own devotion to your hobby, he somehow feels grateful for your presence. You never miss a game. You went even when you caught the flu and felt too sick to do your cheer routine– you just sat on the bench and rooted for your best friend. (The team lost that match. Sunwoo felt a little bad for tugging you out of your bed for it.)

The boy studies your face for a while. You look perfectly content in his hold. You fit perfectly into his arms, he thinks– almost like you’re supposed to be there all the time. He should hug you more often, he decides. Sunwoo foolishly finds himself focusing onto your lips– he blames the shiny lipgloss you put on today– the words coming out of your mouth not quite registering in his brain. “As I was saying, good job! The whole team, but you especially. Don’t tell anyone, but I think you really shined in this game. I’m really prou–”

A single peck is pressed to your glossy, sticky lips, cutting you off in the middle of the sentence yet again. Sunwoo surprises himself with the gesture– he was always too shy to initiate something with you, too hesitant to even touch you sometimes– but the euphoria is still playing with his senses, clouding his brain. He doesn’t think of consequences.

He can’t control himself anymore. It’s been weeks since you two kissed for the first time– exactly 4 and a half weeks since you taught him how to do so– and since that afternoon, he found himself thinking about it every single day, every single minute, all. The. Time. You two haven’t spoken about it since, making the poor boy a little disappointed, but he respected your decision. He knew that you didn’t particularly reciprocate his feelings, but he still expected your dynamic to shift. At least a little bit. 

And although he should’ve been glad nothing changed and your friendship didn’t crumble because of a simple kiss, he found himself desiring to kiss you every time he saw your face. 

You peer at him with eyes wide open, mouth a little agape. Sunwoo doesn’t really know how to read your reaction– you didn’t look particularly happy, but you also didn’t push him away– and so in the moment of panic, he begins to backtrack, his arms untangling from your sides.

“I- I’m sorry if I overstepped any boundary, or if I–”

You’re not fans of letting each other finish their sentences today, it seems. Before Sunwoo gets a chance to put a bigger distance between the two of you, he watches as you get on your tippy-toes and press a tender kiss on his lips– more firmer than the one he dared to give you, a little bit longer, yet still sweetly short. There’s something soft and gentle in your gaze when you pull away and press another peck onto his face– the tip of his nose this time– and Sunwoo almost physically feels his knees turning into jello, his own celebratory firework show erupting in the pits of his stomach.

“So, as I was saying,” you hum, hugging the boy around his neck, “you did well. You looked good out there,” you peep, the sparks in your eyes making Sunwoo’s skin burn with their contact.

That day, you teach him that to be loved is to have someone sharing your achievements with. To be loved is to be adored, to be loved is to have someone watching you and cheering you on, to have someone to run to with good news.

Kim Sunwoo’s football team won the match, but the boy thinks that perhaps, that day, he won something even greater.

to. my first lover

August 2000

The admission papers arrive at his house the morning he’s supposed to sleep over at your house. Your parents decided to take a trip to your aunt’s place for two days, so you invite the boy into the comfort of your home for the weekend– as far as Sunwoo’s mother is concerned, he’s sleeping over at Juyeon’s. He doesn’t have the boy covering him, but he’s also sure his mother won’t try to check if he’s telling her the truth. He’s not banned from having a girlfriend– he just doesn’t want his mum to get any wrong ideas.

He finds the envelope in the mailbox when he comes home from school, and something in his stomach drops when he sees the american stamp on the top right corner of the white paper. He debates on opening it, but every time he hypes himself up enough to tear the top of the envelope off, a little anxious voice on his inside tells him to wait. 

Although reluctant to admit it to himself, Sunwoo is a little scared to see the result of his university application. Before he leaves for your house, he puts the envelope into the front pocket of his backpack and tries to forget about it. It works a bit better when he sees your face, hears your laugh– when he spends time with you and you two play the new board game you got from your cousin. Still, the weight of the envelope keeps bugging him in his mind no matter how hard he tries forgetting about it, and you finally notice (or finally bring it up after hours of ignoring his weird mood) when the two of you lay together in your bed in the evening, both facing the ceiling.

“Is everything alright?” you ask. 

“Hm?” Sunwoo hums, lost in thought. “Oh, yeah,” he nods, “don’t worry.”

You don’t seem convinced. Shuffling a little in your sheets, you turn towards him and move your body closer to his, your arm suddenly draping over his middle. A tender kiss is placed on his temple, almost making him crumble under the gentle care, and your voice earns a concerned kind of timbre when you speak to him. “You can tell me,” you hum, “boyfriends and girlfriends are supposed to tell each other things.”

Boyfriends and girlfriends. Sunwoo feels himself soften under the possessive title. It has been close to 4 months of you dating– starting with the winning match in April, progressing slowly through the summer break– but the fact that you’re his partner is still a little unbelievable to him. Sometimes, when he hears you call him your boyfriend, he still gets a little bashful. He still feels like he’s been told the greatest news of his life. 

Maybe it’s the nature of this sentiment that has him slowly unraveling to you. And maybe, it’s because he’d tell you anyways– you’d be the first to know. He was just waiting for the right time to bring it up.

“The reply to my university application came in the mail this morning…” he trails off, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

You plop up on your elbow, watching the boy from above. Eyes big, you peer into his face. “And?” you ask, an expecting gaze glazing his features.

“I… I don’t know,” he shrugs, “I was too scared to open it alone.”

“O-Oh,” you nod, furrowing your brows at him, “well, it’s okay to be scared. I believe in you, but even if it doesn’t go the way you wanted it to, I’m still proud of you for trying,” you say, a gentle tone of voice cooing at him, like the nature of the way you play with his hair, wanting to make the boy relax from his anxieties.

“I have the letter here with me,” he says, swallowing, “in my bag.”

“Do you want to open it together?” you ask, watching as the boy nods.

He’s getting off the bed in no time, wearing just sweatpants and a baggy shirt to sleep in, grabbing his bag from the corner of your room and unzipping the small compartment at the front. His fingers take the envelope out, legs walking him over back to your bed, your figure now sitting against the headboard. Sunwoo finds himself mirroring your position as his fingers turn the little white thing in his hold with much stumbling, preparing himself for whatever answer awaits him inside.

Glancing at you, seeing you looking at him with an encouraging expression on your face, Sunwoo takes a big breath in and out to calm his nerves before he tears the top open and takes out the expensive-feeling paper. Not stopping his actions anymore, knowing that if he takes another moment to himself, he won’t be able to read the letter, he unravels the note and lets his eyes skim over the words.

Before he even has a chance to register the sentences written down in the letter, before he can even let his mind accept the result he’s given– ‘we are pleased to announce that you were admitted to the athlete scholarship program…’– he feels a pair of arms wrapping around his shoulders, jolting him awake from his thoughts.

“You made it! Oh my god, you made it!” you cheer, excitement taking over your whole body as you shake the boy in your hold from side to side. The reality still isn’t quite settling in for him, so he just lets you do whatever you please– which includes all of the following: screaming incoherent words into his ear when you hug him closer to your chest, planting a kiss to his cheek and throwing your hands up into the air in a winning gesture. 

“You made it, Sunwoo,” you repeat, this time a little more collected.

Sunwoo finally allows himself to put the letter away and look into your eyes. “I made it,” he sighs, a soft smile playing with his features. 

“You did!” you nod, grinning back.

It’s strange. The first step towards Sunwoo’s dream is now complete. He got admitted to the university of his dreams– the one that’s good for athletes, the one that is supposed to shoot him towards stardom. He has the opportunity to take classes there and train with some of the best aspiring players in the whole world. He has the opportunity to move out of the country, live at dorms in Boston, and most importantly, he has everyone’s support. 

There’s nothing more a boy his age could want more. He has everything. His whole life ahead of him, only the brightest future waiting for him at the end– only if he keeps trying hard and improving. He’s happy. Don’t get him wrong– he really is. Somehow, though, it all feels a bit scary.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited?” you ask, a pout taking over your once excited features. The amount of worries you have over Sunwoo gets bigger and bigger the older the two of you are. There are only so many things that can go wrong when you are a teenager, but now that you’re adulting, the list keeps getting longer.

“I am,” he nods, forcing a smile onto his lips.

“You don’t seem excited,” you argue.

“I am! I really am,” he says, trying to battle with himself.

“What is it?” 

“What is what?” 

“Come on, Sunwoo,” you sigh, “I can tell when something’s wrong. You don’t have to hide it from me, because I’ll know anyway. What is it?” you insist, staring the boy down with an examining look.

The boy sighs, shrugging to himself. “Well,” he starts, “the school is in America.”

“And?” you start, furrowing your eyebrows. “We knew that when you applied. Why is it such a problem now?” you ask, genuinely not grasping the whole situation.

Sunwoo chews on his cheek for a little while, plays with his fingers in his lap. A part of him is telling him that he both looks and seems foolish– because you’re right. It was his dream, he is excited, and this is good news. But still, there’s something he didn’t really think of when applying. Well, he did. He just thinks that the fact that him being accepted wasn’t really a realistic idea, no matter how hard he wished and prayed for it, so he didn’t have the need to think about it so seriously back then. Now it’s here, all real, and it’s a struggle he didn’t really grasp that he was going to have to go through.

“Well,” he starts again, still avoiding your eyes, “that means I have to move. And we won’t see each other for a while.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence following his confession– one in which he contemplates all possible reactions you might give him, some with truly catastrophic endings– but after what seems like eternities, he hears your soft, gentle voice. “Is that what’s making you so worried?” you ask.

“Kind of,” he nods, feeling his cheeks redden. You handle him with so much care– sometimes, he doesn’t know how to react.

“Awh,” you coo, taking his hand into yours, preventing him from picking at the skin of his cuticles until they bleed– an action he always does and you keep scolding him for. “Sunwoo, we knew about this when you applied. I am okay with you going away. Sure, it will suck, but it’s only for a little time, and I can come visit you there and you’ll show me around and stuff…”

Sunwoo presses a tight-lipped, hesitant smile to his lips. He feels reassured.

“And we’ll call, and it’s going to be fine, because this is good. This is good news, Sunwoo, and you’re gonna do great, and you’re gonna be a star, and I’ll be so, so proud of you,” you hum, voice tender and caring, doing your best at consoling the boy.

“I’m already so proud of you now, y’know?” you hum, squeezing his hand. “Everything will be alright, so don’t you worry.”

Sunwoo’s arms reach out to envelop you into a hug. He once again recognises how easily you fit into his arms, how perfectly you shape into his skin, and when he burrows his nose into your neck, breathing in your scent, he feels your lips reach into his hair, planting a soft kiss into it. Your words did more to the boy than only consult him– they gave him hope, they gave him joy, they made him feel like perhaps, this is not such a terrifying occurrence. And it really isn’t– it’s quite possibly the best thing that he’s ever achieved, and the circumstances of him leaving don’t seem as horrifying to him now. 

As long as he knows that you have his back, he thinks he can do anything. And what’s 3 years abroad against the 4 years he’s known you?

When you pull away, you press your lips against his, the contact making his muscles finally relax and his mind let go of all the worries. There’s suddenly nothing in the world that could make him falter, nothing that could make him worry or stress or fret or change his mind, because he has your support, and you’re here with him, promising him that you’ll always be right by his side, wherever he is.

Your mouth molds against his, the familiar motion of your lips against his still surprising him sometimes, still making him curious even after those months. He’s been dating you for some while, but he still likes to explore what makes you crumble under him, what makes you hum into the kiss, what makes you tug him closer to you– it’s a fun game to him, trying to figure you out completely. 

He still has some time, but it’s like he is trying to engrave those moments into his memory before he no longer can experience them first-hand as easily.

He goes out to explore again– his tongue gently inviting itself into your mouth with a swipe of your lower lip, relishing in the way your composure falters a little bit, letting him be in charge. You were always the more experienced one out of you two, so Sunwoo often shied away from being the one dominating intimate situations– afraid he’s not good enough, too inexperienced, too immature for you– but in the rare moments he does take the lead, your reactions give him a new source of confidence. 

His hand comes up to cradle your jaw, nose pressing against your cheek as he angles you so he has more access to your lips. Something about his ministrations makes you forget to breathe, breaking away from him in a search for much needed oxygen, but Sunwoo acts like he’s been starved of you, latching his lips to the trail from your mouth towards your neck, planting open-mouthed kisses to your soft skin. He faintly remembers the time you gave him a lovebite that one time you came over to his house to work on homework together, sucking and biting at his neck (and although he enjoyed seeing the possessive bruise on his skin whenever he saw himself in the mirror, he wore the strings of his hoodies tightly tied to his neck, shielding him from being teased by everyone– but mostly Eric). He tries to mirror your motions, recreating the action to the best of his abilities.

He hears you grunt, making him fear that he’s doing it wrong– a momentarily panic settling in his chest screaming at him that he hurt you– but the worries are quickly dismissed as you move impossibly closer to the boy, straddling his lap and threading your fingers through his hair, keeping him close. 

Humming under his touch, Sunwoo gets a kick from hearing the sounds coming out of your mouth. It’s like a reward– it’s like the praise he goes after his whole life, like validation of his actions being satisfactory for you. The pressure of your body against his lap makes him feel hot all over, sweaty hands holding you by your sides. Every slightest shift of your figure against his makes him shudder, composure faltering when you move in a way that has his breathing particularly quicken, a bundle of nerves forming in his stomach from the newly found hypersensitivity. There’s only so much fabric shielding the two of you from each other, and just the thought of it is slowly driving the boy crazy.

Pulling away from your neck, admiring the artwork he managed to portray on your skin, he feels you pulling him up to meet your lips again, heated, firm kisses shared in the silence of the room. He feels your hands resting on his abdomen, feeling him up for a moment before you sneak them under the hem of his shirt, dragging your nails against his skin. 

Sunwoo hears a sound escape his throat at the contact, making him instantly feel foolish– until he feels you smile against his lips, following your ministrations by mirroring his previous actions and kissing down his neck, finding all the spots that make him the most reactive– like the place under his ear, the juncture of his shoulder. You revisit all the places you’ve tested before and perfected your aim to make him efficiently crumble under you. Sunwoo finds himself losing the initial control he had over the situation, instead letting you take over and lead him, much like you’ve done in most areas of his life. He likes to be your follower. He likes to see where you want him, where you need him, he likes to comply. It’s more comfortable for him this way. It makes him swell with pride when he makes you happy.

Another shift of your hips against him has Sunwoo digging his fingers to your side, whole body feeling like it’s electrified under your touch. Placing a soft peck to the spot you’ve had your attention on, you mumble into his skin. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Sunwoo swallows, noticing you leaning your forehead against his tenderly, eyes meeting. 

“Are you sure?”

He nods. He’s never been more sure about anything in his life– he enjoys your company, he loves your touch, the way you make his every sense heighten, his heart beat quicker. Still, he feels a bit nervous at the prospected events. “I just– I’ve never done this before,” Sunwoo whispers the obvious, watching as you carefully observe him.

“Sweetheart,” you tenderly call, placing a soft peck to his lips. “That’s okay. Me neither, but we could… we could try and see where this leads us, if you’d like?”

The sweet pet name alone makes the boy let go of all his worries, of the stress and nerves he’s been holding on to for the past few weeks. You hold him like he’s going to break, and Sunwoo’s never felt so loved before. You reassure him that it’s going to be okay. You are there to remind him that life isn’t so hard, as long as you’re by his side.

“Okay,” he nods, smiling at you. 

“Okay,” you repeat, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him again– it may as well be for the thousandth time. Truth is, while he tried to keep up at first, Sunwoo lost count a long time ago.

Everything there is to know about love, Kim Sunwoo learned from you. You showed him the childlike playfulness during your dates. You taught him how to kiss, only to take advantage of his newly found skills and keep them all for yourself. You showed him what it is to share joys, dreams, but also worries together. You were his first crush, date, relationship– and now, his first lover.

In the comfort of your childhood bedroom, holding you closer than ever, Sunwoo dreams of eternity with you. He doesn’t realize what a foolish thought it might be. Somehow, he’s got a feeling that no matter what it is, you two will figure it out. You always do.

to. my first love

September 2000

Muscles sore and whole body heaving in pain, Sunwoo trails inside the small bungalow the university gave him as student accommodation, dropping his duffel bag to the floor. His face is pulled into a small frown as he enters the house and his roommate can’t help but notice. “Everything alright?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Sunwoo hums, nodding at the question. He has 3 assigned roommates– all male, all around his age. Sunwoo’s english isn’t bad, but it also isn’t that great either. He knew that this was going to be one of the main concerns of him moving out abroad, but he figured that the more you encounter the language, the more comfortable you get with it. Due to this, though, the two American boys he rooms with– their names are Josh and Sam– aren’t as close with him. Sunwoo doesn’t really blame them. It’s not like he tried to get close with them anyway. He talks much more with Mark, the one year older boy that’s also Korean, but has been living in the States for years now. The language barrier is nearly nonexistent there, and so he feels much more comfortable.

Not comfortable enough to vent to him about his problems, though. It’s good to share a laugh with Mark when they eat breakfast together in the kitchen, but he won’t go on and talk his ear off about his homesickness, for example. Sunwoo wouldn’t talk to him about the weird, unsettling feeling in his gut whenever he takes the bus or walks down the street, not recognising every face he encounters like he did back home, in his small town. He won’t tell Mark Lee about how much he misses Korea– he’s sure the boy has his own things to worry about. Besides, it’s not like Mark talks about personal stuff with him either. After four days of living here, he can’t say their relationship got to the level of going deep with their personal lives.

And so, Sunwoo walks up the stairs in silence, not giving Mark more information about his mood. Each step up hurts, since the training is twice as demanding as it used to be at home, making his muscles sore and his back hurt terribly from the stone hard mattress in the bed of his new home. He is willing to endure it, but he also has the terrific need to complain about it to anyone that would be willing to listen.

He should start writing a diary, he thinks as he stares up on the ceiling, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It sounds good enough to channel his feelings out into while also not being a bother to anyone else. Besides, he doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s having a hard time here in Boston. This was all his decision, his dream, and sometimes, things are going to get difficult. And that’s okay. Sunwoo just… feels like he lacks the support system he once had back home in Korea. Like someone took it from between his fingertips, forcefully kept it away from him, locked somewhere miles away. Maybe the person who did that to him was himself all along…

Which is why he doesn’t deserve to whine about the fact that he feels terribly lonely. He did this to himself. All him.

If he had a diary, he’d write about the terrible mattress first, he thinks. Then, the weird weather around here– it’s always hot, but not humid. It doesn’t rain as much. He kind of misses the rain. 

If he had a diary, he’d write about how he misses his old coach. The high school coach that always made sure the game was fun, yet productive. He misses his teammates as well. Their team never did big things, but he felt like they were some sort of a family. They knew each other well on the field. They had chemistry. They had fun.

He’d write about how he misses his annoying little sister. How he wishes she would appear in the doorway of his room and talked to him about the stickers she still collects, or dragged him to make another friendship bracelet together. How he feels bad for leaving her all alone back home, even though he was never the one to share his brotherly love for her so outwardly growing up. He feels a sort of appreciation for her that he didn’t quite understand when they were little. They are right when they say your sibling is your first best friend after all. 

He’d write about the second best friend he’s ever made, Eric. He’d write about how he longs for his presence, his encouraging words. His funny remarks, the pranks he’d pull on him. How he always appreciated him being just across the street, how he enjoyed growing up with him by his side.

He’d write about how much he misses you– perhaps the most out of everyone. There aren’t many words he could use to describe how much he wishes for your presence, and so he thinks the pages filled with sentences directed to you would be rather sparse, and it makes him kind of sad to think about. In his mind, you deserve novels written about you. You deserve love letters and poems and essays filled with every little detail of your existence. Maybe if Sunwoo loved you less, he would be able to talk about it more.

When his eyes go out of focus staring at the ceiling, Sunwoo decides to call you. It’s been 4 days since he arrived and he hasn’t spoken to you since you waved him off to the airport. His mother drove him and you couldn’t go to send him off at the gate, but Sunwoo almost thinks he prefers the fact that you only said goodbye to him in front of his house. It would be that much harder if he saw your face the last thing before boarding the plane. 

For the last four days, he’s been slowly settling in, taking in the new country and the new environment. He’d say he was just too busy to call, but that would be a lie.

He was just scared to hear your voice. Terribly.

What if you changed your mind? What if you no longer want to stay with him? What if it’s too hard to handle? And Sunwoo knows it’s hard– hell, it’s the most difficult thing he’s ever done– but all he wishes is for you to keep handling it well. To keep his heart in your hands gently, like you always have, sending him your energy.

He figures that if there’s one thing that can help his growing homesickness, it is to hear your voice. 

Sitting up from his bed and walking over to the bag he carried with him through the airport and kept with him on the plane, he scrambles through the item to find the piece of paper you forced into his hand on the driveway of his house. 

“We changed our landline yesterday, so call me on this number when you get there,” you said, pressing a kiss towards his cheek before you let him get into his mother’s car. Sunwoo promised to call back then– he hopes you don’t mind the delay. Maybe he could blame the timezones…

Hand thrusting into the front pocket of the bag, Sunwoo feels around and tries to fish out the little piece of paper. He’s 100% certain he put it there after he got into the car with his mum, making sure it’s safe and sound. He would hate to lose it– it was some sort of safety net for him. Something to fall back to, something to keep him above the water.

Panic settles in his chest when he doesn’t feel the soft piece of paper anywhere. The boy unzips all other compartments of the bag, turning it around, shaking out everything that’s inside. The phone number to your new landline has to be there somewhere in there. It needs to be.

When he doesn’t find it in his bag, he opens his closet. He throws everything out to the ground– his clothing, his shoes, the notebooks he bought for university– all in the search of the stupid, little, yet so important piece of paper. He searches through all his other bags. All pockets of his jeans, every centimeter of his folded clothing. All drawers of his desk, the whole floor, hell, he even crouches to check under his bed, blowing the dust bunnies out of reach, desperately hoping he could wish the paper into existence. He searches his bed. All possible parts where the landline number could be– some more unreasonable than others. Sunwoo feels like he is losing his mind.

The paper is nowhere in his room. It’s like it vanished. Was it really there at all? Did he dream that moment up?

Running down the stairs towards the landline, he takes the phone off the wall and punches in the numbers to your old landline, the pattern so familiar in his fingertips he couldn’t tell you the number if you asked, but he could recreate it with punching in the buttons in on any other phone in the world. He clenches his fist together, breathing more heavily as he listens in, praying for the universe to stop playing tricks on him and make you magically answer on the other side.

When the phone makes a dismissive sound, signaling that the number he called no longer exists, Sunwoo shuts the phone against the wall and takes it again, putting in your old number once more, like a summoning ritual. Maybe he put the numbers in wrong the first time… Maybe he made a mistake somewhere along the way…

When he gets the same response, he tries again. And again. And again. 

He can’t believe it. Tension settles into his shoulders, making him twirl the cord of the landline in between his fingers as a way to calm himself down, listening in to the dull noise on the other side telling him there’s nothing that can be done, nothing more that he can do. He doesn’t have the number, and somehow, although it sounds foolish, it feels like he lost you alongside it too. 

“Everything alright, man? You look–” Mark enters the room, peering at the boy with curious, worried eyes. It’s only now that Sunwoo realizes he is breathing heavily, fingers clammy on the cord, heart begging to run out of his chest to get all across the ocean to you. It’s only now that he realizes his cheeks are wet with tears, the solidification of his inner turmoil taking a physical form and appearing on his face, making him feel pathetic in front of the older boy.

Sunwoo once again puts the phone back to its original place, but this time, he doesn’t take it back and tries the useless old phone number again. Simply turning away from his roommate, he accepts his fate as he quickly puts on his shoes and slams the door shut after him, going out for a run.

Is this his punishment for waiting too long? Did the paper vanish out of his possession because he was deemed unworthy of hearing your voice? Should he have tried to look for the number earlier? Would this have prevented it?

It’s hard to run when your nose is stuffed and your breathing hitches with silenced sobs, he learns. Sunwoo doesn’t get as far as he would have liked, crumbling on a bench somewhere next to a playground, picking at the dry skin of his lips until they bleed and the irony taste on his tongue snaps him back into reality.

What was once his dream is starting to feel more like a nightmare. When he calls Eric two days after to ask him to get him your new landline number, he gets the news that you abruptly moved out to New York. 

September 2007

“If you really think about it, Y/N,” Sunwoo hums, making you shift your attention towards his serious-looking face, “we never really broke up in the first place.”

The boy is holding a bottle of cider in his hand, one of the four you got on your way to your tonight’s destination. Sunwoo rang the bell to your house a few minutes before 10 PM, and although you weren’t expecting to see him that day and you weren’t even looking as presentable as you’d like, you agreed to take a walk with him. Somehow, the two of you found yourselves climbing over the fence of your old high school, sneaking into the football field, figures settling on one of the benches of the tribune.

“Oh yeah,” you hum, lightness evident in your tone, “you just never called. What’s up with that, by the way?” you ask, snickering when you watch the male avert his gaze in a bashful manner, as if he was embarrassed to tell you his reasoning.

You take a sip of the apple cider, enjoying the sweet, fruity taste on your tongue, watching as the male contemplates his next response for a bit, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I lost your new landline number,” he peeps, voice barely louder than a whisper.

His answer doesn’t register immediately in your brain. The words take a moment to string themselves together into a sentence, taking another few seconds before you understand the meaning of his confession. A soft laugh drags out of your throat, disbelief coating your very essence. “What?”

“Yeah,” he nods, scratching the back of his neck before looking back at you, eyes full of guilt and shame, “I… I lost the number you gave me, and when I called Eric to try to make him get me your new number, he told me you moved to New York, and I guess… I guess I took it as a sign…?” he says, shrugging.

“A sign of what?” you ask, genuinely surprised to hear his answer.

All this time, you thought he didn’t call because he didn’t want to. You thought he didn’t call because he was too busy, too tired to deal with anything else other than his career at the moment. He was trying his hardest and training every day, so you understood that he wouldn’t have time for you every day. When he didn’t call for so long, even after you moved to the States as well– you hoped he’d somehow try searching for your number even then, because in your mind, everything was possible– one day, you just… stopped waiting for him to call. You stopped hoping you would hear his voice on the other side of the line.

And you accepted it. He realized long distance relationships were too difficult to maintain, especially in that time and age, and he had too many of his own worries to take care of before focusing his attention somewhere else. You didn’t resent him, no. You longed for him, you missed him, but you never once hated him for the decision he made. You wished him well, all this time. 

“A sign that… that maybe we weren’t meant to be,” he hums, shrugging. “It sounds stupid, really, but…” he trails off, cutting himself off in the middle of the sentence.

Something about his confession makes you feel a bit lighter. Your shoulders feel like there’s no longer anything weighing them down. It’s not like you waited for an explanation all those years and when you finally got one, something in you shifted into a more comfortable position.

“For me, back then, you were the right person, wrong time. And I didn’t want to let you go, I really didn’t, it’s just… everything was already so hard and the world seemed to put so many obstacles in my way of contacting you, that I thought it was the universe telling me to drop it and let you go. So you could… so you could find someone else, I guess…” he finishes explaining. He averts his gaze from you, pointing it towards the empty field, as if scared to see your reaction to his blabbering. He takes another few sips of his cider, snickering. “It wasn’t fair of me to want you to wait for me either.”

So you could find someone else… You think back to all the times you went on dates after you concluded that your relationship with Sunwoo was over. You try to remember their faces, their mannerisms in such detail that you could only make up one of your previous lovers– the one sitting next to you right now– and you chuckle at your foolishness. Remembering how you kept comparing every new person in your life to the one that stole your heart first, remembering how you thought about him late at night, wondering where he is right now and how he’s doing. You used to look through the sports parts of newspapers, looking for his name somewhere, looking for his team name, but never seeing a glance of how he was doing. You wore the stupid friendship bracelet he gave you in your junior year around in New York, having people point it out and ask about it, all until it broke off by itself  one day and you reluctantly said goodbye to the sentiment. 

You dated around after losing contact with Sunwoo. You don’t really think you found someone else, though. 

“I wanted to wait for you, though,” you say, shuffling closer to the male on the bench, voice sincere. “It was my decision.”

“Well,” he chuckles, “life had other plans for us two.”

His sentence makes you think. A few days ago, it would make you sad. Embarrassed, even. Life had other plans for you two and they didn’t align with what you two have calculated during the summer break after your senior year. Sunwoo didn’t become a star. His football career never took off. He finished his degree and came back home, bitter and heartbroken. 

Your plans ended just as fast as you came up with them. Not going to university after high school, you were left with nothing to do. When the opportunity to take an internship for a news company in New York came to you so suddenly, you took it without thinking, trying to find your place in the big world ahead of you. You had no plan, but you think that maybe, some part of you wanted to get away from your hometown all along. You wanted to do big things, make everyone proud. Being a news anchor wasn’t even something you dreamed of when you were little, so you guess you weren't supposed to really feel that let down, but the defeat still stings.

Or, at least, it used to. You find that the failure doesn’t hurt as much anymore. 

Looking at the male next to you, you think you know the reason why. “It’s okay,” you say, shrugging, “we figured it out anyways, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Sunwoo sighs, looking at you with a soft smile playing with his lips. “I guess we did.”

The sound of cicadas hits your ears when you two fall into a comfortable silence. Healing old wounds was surely one of the items on your check list when you came back home, but you didn’t expect to get over things so quickly. You don’t think you would have been able to get over everything alone, though– and this makes you twice as grateful to still have Sunwoo by your side. A sense of nostalgia takes over you at the fact, but this time, it hits you with more fondness than longing for the old times.

“Remember how young we were? It’s like I still see you chasing the ball around the field when I focus hard enough,” you say, pointing ahead of you.

Sunwoo laughs, shaking his head at your antics. “Yeah. I almost see you leading the cheer practice in the back there,” he points, “in your cute cheer uniform, with the ridiculous pom poms in your hands–”

“Hey, don’t call them ridiculous,” you gasp, “they were my favorite part of the whole routine!”

“Oh, I could tell,” he laughs, poking fun at you. 

“Well, you must have liked the pom poms enough to stare at me during practice all the time,” you shrug, teasing the male back. The fact that Sunwoo had a crush on you long before you reciprocated the feelings wasn’t something you two explicitly talked about before, but you always deemed as clear as day. Or, at least, it was to everyone back then.

“I did not–” he gasps, making you gently shove him with your elbow.

“Come on, everybody used to say you had a crush on me back then,” you hum, “you were pretty obvious with it too.”

“You knew?” he looks at you, eyes big and surprised. Gears clearly running in his head, he tries to piece the information together, running through the memories now so distant, but still so clear.

“Girls always know,” you point out, shrugging. You take another sip of your cider, licking your lips after and speaking up again, tone of voice almost confidential. “I just acted like I didn’t. But then I realized I liked you back, so I was trying everything in my power to make you confess to me first. Which… took you long enough, young man,” you giggle, seeing the male shake his head at you in disapproval.

“You could’ve confessed first, if you were so confident,” he mutters, obviously a little gutted by the revelation.

“That would be below my level,” you nod, pressing your lips together into a straight line, “besides, it was fun watching you act all cute and clueless.”

“Don’t call me cute and clueless–”

“That’s what you were, though! Like the time when you got super drunk on your birthday and begged me not to leave–”

“I didn’t even like you back then!”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“I was in denial,” he furrows his brows theatrically, putting the empty glass bottle to the grass, “but I see that you had a lot of fun watching me suffer.”

“Fine, pretty boy,” you say, catching a glimpse of the boy momentarily shying away, presumably at the endearing nickname, his cheeks tinting pink even in the faint moonlight. “Would it make you feel better if I confessed first this time?”

“Huh?” the boy asks, lips parted, eyes a big, honest pool of honey.

Cute and clueless, you think.

The story comes full circle when you realize that this football field is perhaps what started it all. This is where you ran up to the new addition to the team, saying that your favorite number was on the back of his jersey. As the leader of the cheerleading team, you took it as your job to make every newbie feel welcomed– no matter if they were a fellow cheerleader or a football player. You didn’t expect for the boy to never stop wearing the number– although it was your favorite, it didn’t seem to be so important back then. (One day, you learned that Sunwoo kept the number on his jersey even after moving abroad. You read it in one of the sports magazines you foolishly flipped through in every kiosk you encountered and almost teared up in the busy store after.) 

This field is where you watched him play football every week. It’s where you both practiced, sending each other funny faces after the coach was mean to either of you for not being focused on your training. 

This is where Sunwoo found his passion– where he found his dream. This is the place that shifted the next couple of years of your life towards all sorts of directions. This is where he kissed you after winning a match, a gleeful confession slipping past his lips. This is where your relationship started, and metaphorically, also ended. The field that kept you apart is now a thousand miles away, but the one that brought you together is now right in front of you.

You guess it’s only right to use it for new beginnings.

“I think… I think I’m still in love with you, Sunwoo,” you start slowly, playing with your fingers in your lap, “well, I don’t know if my feelings for you ever ended… they could’ve, I mean, we were apart for so long… I just… all I know is that I don’t want us to be apart anymore, and I–”

Your words die on your tongue when the boy cuts you off with a kiss, the taste of apple cider mixing on your lips. The way he kisses you didn’t really change even after so many years, still swaying you with the familiarity of his loving. Still, even though you know the way he angles your jaw, the way he presses against you, the way he takes his sweet time, truly showing you how much he enjoys the act, you never grow tired of it. Something in you reacts the same way as when you were young. There’s still excitement, there’s still tender softness in your heart every time you kiss him.

His lips break apart from yours, a playful tint in his words when he speaks to you again. “Don’t try to take credit for it now,” he says, “because the last time I checked, we never really broke up in the first place, so you could say we were dating all along, all because I confessed back in–”

“God, you’re unbelievable,” you grunt.

“But you love me,” the boy says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is.

“Always have,” you say, pressing a quick peck to his plush lips, “always will.”

The starlight glazes your cheekbones when you rest your forehead against his, as if to send him a telepathic message that is worth more than a thousand words. It’s hard to find the words to explain the mixture of your emotions right now, but when your memory washes up the encouraging monologue Sunwoo offered to you when you first arrived, you finally agree with his sentiment. Perhaps, one word could summarize it all– you feel truly content. 

They say you never forget about your first love. At 25 and still counting, you guess you could say that’s true.

[raribella]

To Say “I Love You” Right Out Loud | JJ Maybank

summary: JJ revisits his childhood and how he grew up with you through every side of life until he finally understands why this makes you so special

pairing: JJ Maybank x Routledge!reader

genre: fluff, a spark of angst

contains: a combo of “Both Sides Now” by Joni Mitchell and Love Actually (2003), mentions of death and child abuse. John B and JJ are childhood friends in this. I don’t know how to write dialogue. Drug usage (beer, weed).

word count: 6k

author’s note: I was immediately triggered by Joni’s astonishing performance at the Grammy’s and by remembering that the song is in one of my favorite movies. This is my favorite fanfiction I’ve probably ever written and I put so much time and love into this I really hope you like it.

This is a work of fiction. I do not own the characters of Outer Banks nor any characteristic of the show. I am writing this story solely for my own entertainment and the marvel or comfort of any readers.

Rows and flows of angel hair, and ice cream castles in the air; and feather canyons everywhere. I looked at clouds that way. But now they only block the sun, they rain and they snow on everyone; so many things I would have done, but clouds got in my way.

College had finally ended. They had finally done it. Against all odds and contrary to the expectations of others, the pogues were finally free to embark on their own paths. And so, they gathered for one last celebration, a bonfire near the Cat's Ass, surrounded by shotguns, snacks, and reminiscing in the familiar feeling of just being together.

Spreading themselves along the space at the Chateau's yard, most of them ended up divided the comfortable water at the tub and the warmth of the fire, their laughter mingling with the sound of running water as they shared stories of what each of them could remember of their time roaming the Outer Banks as this fearless gang; the sentiment of each flashback was being intensified from the time they spent apart. As they were the pogues, it was not like their time together was abruptly interrupted, but the responsibilities and the minor distance happened during college, and they couldn't run away from it's effects; but the memories of those days seemed tattooed into their hearts and minds as they could recall every moment in lighthearted detail.

In a corner of the Cat's Ass, JJ found himself lost in a sea of memories, surrounded by the comforting embrace of his friends. You sat beside him in the water, the coolness soothing against your skin, while Cleo and Pope nestled comfortably at his other side. Outside, John B, Sarah, and Kie laughed and joked, their voices carrying on the night breeze. As he watched them, a faint, nostalgic smile tugged at the corners of JJ's lips, his heart heavy with the weight of their shared history, thinking back on how far they had come. They had started as a trio—himself and the Routledge twins, bound together by fate and circumstance.

The tree of you lay sprawled out on the sand for what seemed like hours, your eyes tracing the ever-changing shapes that danced across the sky. Castles, pirates, turtles—your imaginations ran wild, weaving tales of adventure and intrigue as you watched the clouds drift lazily overhead. At nine years old, you had joined your brother and JJ just a few moments ago, after spending the afternoon at a friend's house watching a Christmas movie, "Love Actually," with her mother.

As you settled into the sand, JJ couldn't resist a playful jab at the movie, dismissing it as a "dumb chick flick." his mind still floated between that child-like distaste of girls and the appreciation of you tagging along with him and John B back then. You swatted at him, your tiny arms barely reaching his chest, but it only elicited a smirk from the blond pogue. It was nice for you to actually share a moment with a nurturing figure at the absence of your own mom, who had just recently left for Colorado. Besides, you had eaten a whole bag of M&M's that she bought for you to share and you really liked the movie, even if it was funny how sometimes Mia's mom would tell you to close your eyes, your ears, or how sometimes you didnt really catch why she was laughing at some weird scene. You just rolled your eyes and brushed JJ's comment off, suggesting the sky gazing then relishing in the opportunity to spend time with him and your brother.

Your days were often filled with moments like this, carefree and full of laughter, the sound echoing against the backdrop of crashing waves. JJ's mother would eventually come to fetch the three of you, ushering you inside for sweet treats and cozy nights spent squeezed together in JJ's tiny room. Or you'd spend hours playing in the grass, watching as the river met the sea, until Big John's bell rang out, signaling the end of another day. You would get home covered in dirt, JJs hair color nearing yours and your brothers, so you would have a nice shower and come out to your dad telling treasure tales and making you hot chocolate.

One day, as Big John finished building a set of three swings for you, JJ's parents arrived. Standing side by side, the couple had brought beer and peanuts to complement what your dad already had inside for the night. That day, you were playing for hours, your small frame struggling to mount the swing until the duo stepped in to help. John B had made a mess while trying to help you hop on, and  JJ stepped forward to push you, but in excited haste, he pushed too hard, and you tumbled to the ground, scraping your knee. As your first cry pierced the air, the adults rushed to your side, JJ's mother soothing your pain with stinging medicine and comforting words.

In the corner of your eye, you caught sight of JJ, guilt etched on his face as he watched you wince in pain. But your brother nudged him, urging him to shake off his guilt and claiming that this was just a mere blip in the larger scale of the adventure you lived today.

And as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the beach, Luke took charge, setting a bonfire ablaze near the ancient tree in the backyard. The flames flickered casting shadows that stretched out against the sand. You gathered around the fire, marshmallows in hand to be skewered and toasted, laughter filled the air and echoed into the night. The hours slipped away unnoticed, so as the night wore on and the fire burned low, reluctantly, you bid farewell to your blonde friend as he left with his parents.

The life you lived was simple; living in the less fortunate side of the island, you couldnt really enjoy much more than moments like these; the food wasn't fancy, the drinks weren't expensive, your houses weren't pretty and big, so you relied mostly in home made playthings and your own imagination, but you were happy that way; the youthful innocence made all the diferences between you and the kooks be seen with rose coloured glasses, and while in the company of your brother, your best friend, and the team of parents that you saw as guardian angels, it all just seemed warm. It seemed like it would be fine.

One day, though, just as the sky turns cloudy at the end of summer, signaling the onset of storm season, JJ's demeanor shifted, casting a shadow over his usual brightness. At fourteen now, he had been seeming distant and preoccupied at school for weeks, until one day after class, he reached out to you with a heavy heart. Fidgeting nervously, his hands clammy and cold, he confided in you about his mother's illness, the weight of the words hanging heavy in the air. Knowing how much his mother meant to you both, he sought solace in sharing his burden with you, trusting you with his vulnerability. "Mumma's sick, I think... been in the hospital for a while now," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't visit because I'm not sixteen yet... I- I wanted you to know, but you can't tell John B." And as you hugged him, you promised to keep his secret, the first one you kept just between the two of you.

And as JJ clung to you and John B in the solemn silence of the cemetery, the stark reality of their loss weighed heavily upon you, casting a shadow over your once bright and colorful world.. JJ's mother's absence lingered like a specter in their home, his father grappled with the weight of his grief, seeking solace in alcohol and spiraling into a downward spiral of despair. The once vibrant hues of their family life began to fade, replaced by the darkness of addiction and aggression. JJ watched helplessly as his father's temper flared more frequently, his outbursts leaving scars both physical and emotional. The sanctuary of their home became a battleground, each day a struggle to navigate the minefield of his father's unpredictable moods.

In the aftermath of his mother's passing and the turmoil within his home, JJ withdrew into himself, building walls around his heart that even his closest friends struggled to breach. He became increasingly unreachable, his once vibrant presence dimmed by the weight of his grief and the scars of his father's aggression. Some days, he would disappear altogether, only to reappear with a purple eye hidden beneath dark glasses, a silent testament to the struggles he faced behind closed doors. And when he did show up, his demeanor was somber, his face etched with a perpetual frown as he rejected activities he once enjoyed. Even cloudgazing at the beach became a source of frustration for JJ, as he lamented the impending rain or the end of summer, his words tinged with bitterness and resignation. As you and your brother looked on, helpless in the face of his pain, you could only watch as JJ retreated further into himself, the vibrant colors of his spirit muted by the shadows that engulfed him.

The tension crackled in the air as you confronted JJ, frustration bubbling to the surface like a storm about to break. "Why won't you just watch 'Love Actually' with me, like, once? It'd help distracting you, y'know!?" you demanded, your voice tinged with exasperation. "You can't keep avoiding fun, JJ. You can't lose hope and light just because things are tough."

But JJ's response was sharp, his tone laced with bitterness. "Those things are for kooks, y/n" he retorted, his words heavy with the weight of his pain. "Pogues can't afford to indulge in luxuries like love and hope. We have to focus on surviving you know."

Your heart sank at his words, feeling the distance between you grow with each passing moment. "If you really look for it, JJ," you countered softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "I've got a sneaky feeling that love is all around. Even for us Pogues." But JJ's expression remained hardened, his walls firmly in place as he turned away, the gap between you widening with each step he took.

John B stepped in a while later, his voice calm but firm as he defended his friend. "He's been through a lot," John B interjected, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of empathy and understanding. "Give him time, he'll come around. I know he will."

But despite John B's reassurances, the weight of your worry and frustration bore down on you like a heavy burden. Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you sought solace in the arms of your father, tears streaming down your cheeks as you poured out your heart. "I didn't mean to be petty," you sobbed, your voice choked with emotion. "But I'm just so worried about how Luke has been treating JJ. I miss him, Dad. I miss the way things used to be." And as your father held you close, comforting whispers soothing your troubled mind, you cried yourself to sleep, longing for the comfort of simpler times and the warmth of JJ's presence by your side.

A few days after the heated exchange, JJ found himself drawn to the familiar solace of the beach. As he laid alone on the sand, the rhythmic sound of the waves echoing in the background, he cast his gaze upward, chuckling at the shifting shapes and colors of the clouds above. Yet, amidst the tranquility of the moment, a pang of longing stirred within him.

Reflecting on recent events, JJ realized that he had begun to see clouds from two distinct perspectives—from the highs and lows of life's tumultuous journey. But amidst the solitude, his mind drifted to an understanding; to how he seemed to have looked at clouds like this from two different perspectives now, from up and down, and still he would recall better colorful and elusive memory of your company. He remembered the joy of pointing out funny shapes at the sky with you and your brother, laughter echoing into the vast expanse. It was a memory painted in hues of warmth that contrasted with the darker shades of recent events. In that fleeting moment of recollection, JJ yearned to return to that moment exactly, to say sorry, at least. And alone at that same beach, he felt like he had a perspective of a future for the first time in a long time. He wanted to see if he truly knew clouds at all, or if there was a new side to it.

JJ was abruptly brought back to reality by Pope's punchline of a memory of his own; he was retelling the story of how he met Cleo at college, and how she wouldn't have passed half her subjects f it wasn't for him. As the group erupted into laughter, he did the same to mask the fact that he had zoned out for a minute, but JJ's gaze instinctively sought yours, his heart yearning for the comfort of your smile. And as his eyes met yours, a warmth spread through him, his thoughts drifting to another memory

Moons and Junes and Ferris wheels; the dizzy dancing way that you feel as every fairy tale comes real. I've looked at love that way. But now it's just another show, and you leave 'em laughing when you go. And if you care, don't let them know, don't give yourself away.

At sixteen years old, you had a full understanding of the dizzying, electric sensation that washed over you whenever JJ emerged from the sea, his board in hand. It was a feeling that stirred deep within you, igniting a spark that refused to be extinguished. Yet, despite the intensity of your emotions, uncertainty plagued your heart. You couldn't decipher JJ's true feelings for you; for every significant gesture or word he offered, there was an equal measure of aloofness or distance.

There were moments when JJ's actions spoke volumes, leaving you breathless with hope and anticipation. But just as quickly, he would retreat into himself, leaving you to question whether his affections were genuine or merely fleeting. And then there were the times when he would disappear into the crowd at a kegger, his attention captured by another girl, leaving you to grapple with the ache of unrequited longing.

Fearing the consequences, you kept your emotions hidden from your brother, John B, despite his keen intuition and suspicions about your lingering glances. Instead, you found solace in the companionship of Pope and Kiara, the only other pogue girl. Your friendship with Kiara blossomed rapidly, providing a safe haven where you could confide in her about everything, including the complexities of your feelings for JJ, seeking her guidance and understanding.

In December of that same year, a vivid memory remains etched in your mind—the day JJ was meant to pick you up from work and take you to the Chateau to meet up with the rest of the crew. Kiara had proposed the idea of a secret Santa, with the stipulation that the gifts could only be candy or chocolate—She herself aiming to guarantee that she'd get a bag or two of Sour Patch Kids. As you exited the souvenir shop, clutching your own "Paradise On Earth" cap, you spotted JJ waiting for you by the Twinkie—the van John B claimed would be safer than the bike. With both hands hidden behind his back, you shot him a questioning look. "Hello?" you greeted tilting your head slightly to the side, to which he responded with a playful smile, feigning surprise at seeing you. "Oh, hello ma'am, your carriage is right here!" he exclaimed, extending his arms towards the open door of the van, one hand tightly clutching something that piqued your curiosity. Hopping onto the Twinkie, you couldn't help but wonder about the mysterious object as JJ closed the door and took his place behind the wheel.

During the ride, JJ attempted to coax the name of your secret Santa out of you, but you remained tight-lipped. Upon parking the van at the Chateau, he sat in silence for a few moments, and you studied him intently. "Oh, before I forget," he said non-chalantly, reaching into his pocket and offering you the object he had been concealing—a ceramic lobster adorned with a tiny Christmas hat, clearly crafted by him. "This is for the nativity scene you keep in your room, I just didn't have time to make the other one..." he explained, a hint of nervousness in his voice as he confessed that he hadn't received your name for the candy exchange but couldn't bear to leave you without a gift.

You stood in awe for a moment, marveling at the thoughtful gesture and the evident reference it held. JJ's apprehension melted away as your eyes met his, a radiant smile spreading across his face. "Wait, wait, wait... Are you trying to tell me that there was more than one lobster at the birth of Jesus?" you quoted, teasingly. JJ rolled his eyes playfully, completing the reference with a loud "duh!" his laughter mingling with yours as you stepped out of the car into the moonlit night, making a lighthearted entrance at the Chateau and eliciting a knowing look from Kiara towards John B.

As time passed, you welcomed Sarah into the fold, introduced by John B with starry-eyed affection that spoke volumes of their budding romance. With the dynamic between her and Kiara settled, John B wasted no time in proudly declaring their relationship to the group—a declaration met with hugs, smiles, and lighthearted jokes about not hurting each other.

One day, Sarah suggested a surf trip to a lesser-known beach nestled between Figure 8 and the Cut, its pristine beauty a sight to behold with crystalline waters and powdery white sand. As you surfed the afternoon away, basking in the warmth of the sun, you found yourself sprawled on the sand along with the rest of the group, supporting yourself on your elbows and catching your breath as you watched JJ roll a joint with practiced ease. "I like this shit," JJ declared, his voice tinged with a hint of defiance. "We can be neglected misfits or whatever, but I love leading this life with you guys. I don't even care about what people think of me! "long as I have a board and you guys, 'm gonna be saying I'm rich... Especially if I have this!" He gestured towards the joint, his words met with cheers from the group.

Your smile started weak but grew as the group cheered. In that moment, you felt a sense of family, and your appreciation for JJ weighed heavily on your chest. Despite the challenges, he had found a way to see life in a positive light, even after Big John went missing. As the wind blew sea salt into your eyes, you turned your face toward JJ. "Yeah, yeah… you know, I keep saying it… but if you really look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that—"

"Y/n, if I hear that quote just one more time!" Sarah interrupted, and the others joined in with her lighthearted protest.

With time, JJ's behavior became increasingly perplexing since after sharing moments like this, he would leave you alone, retreating into the company of the other Pogues with a suddenness that felt jarring and awkward. His focus would shift, his attention consumed by their own banter, leaving you to wonder where you fit into the equation.

It was during these moments of isolation that doubts crept in, whispering of insecurities and unspoken fears that lingered just beneath the surface. Wondering if you did something wrong, you couldn't help but feel a pang of longing as you watched JJ immerse himself in the dynamics of the group, his laughter mingling with theirs as you stood on the sidelines, a silent observer to a world that felt increasingly distant and unfamiliar.

One morning, as you shuffled through the Chateau's corridors, the aroma of breakfast lingering in the air as John B shuffled through the kitchen, you noticed JJ's door ajar. You peeked inside with the intention of wishing him a good morning, only to be met with a sight that shattered your makeshift reality of him. JJ hovered over another girl in his bed, their closeness echoing a betrayal that left you speechless.

"Hey, whoa! Sorry!" His voice softened as he realized it was you, not your brother, at the door. The shock on your face was palpable as you hastily pushed the door closed, shaking your head to dispel the image burned into your mind. Stumbling down the corridor, you muttered a distant "morning" to Kie and Pope, who were still groggy on the couch, woken by the commotion.

Throughout the day, both JJ and yourself moved in a state of flustered avoidance, exchanging glances laden with sheepish guilt. JJ's eyes mirrored the remorse of a caught wrongdoer, but you couldn't summon anger; instead, you carried the weight of hurt and confusion, grappling with the realization that he wasn't yours to claim.

As the day waned and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the Chateau, you found solace on the hammock. With the remnants of the day lingering, you confided in Sarah about the events, the words tumbling out as the weight on your chest grew heavier. The hammock cradled you in its gentle sway as another day ended, leaving you to confront the tangled emotions that now clouded the once-clear skies of your friendship with JJ.

JJ vividly remembered June of the following year, with your birthday fast approaching. Usually, you wouldn't stop talking about how much you loved having your birthday during the summer, and everyone would plan something special to mark the occasion. Kie and Sarah would always get you fancier gifts, like a new top or necklace, while the boys made sure there was a cake to share, probably under the tree lights at another night spent at the Cat's Ass, chuckling at the stupid name JJ had given to the tub.

But this year was different. You and the girls wouldn't stop talking about this idiotic touron, Jeremy, who had apparently flirted with you when you helped him at the store. Now, your attention seemed solely focused on him, much to JJ's annoyance. He rolled his eyes and huffed aloud whenever Jeremy's name was mentioned, with Pope nudging him to keep his cool.

"He's gonna take me to a summer fair," you grimaced, looking into the mirror as Kiara clasped a necklace around your neck. Sarah and JJ hovered on the kitchen counter, Pope sat on the couch, and your brother leaned against the doorframe of your room with a protective frown on his face. John B always believed you and JJ would end up together, and he felt safe with that perspective because he knew and trusted JJ. But that didn't happen with Jeremy.

Across from him, you, Sarah, and Kie giggled with scenarios and provocations, "What if he brings you a giant teddy bear and tries to win you a goldfish?" Kiara teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Sarah snickered. "I can already picture it!"

Meanwhile, JJ fought to keep a frown from appearing on his own face. He was unwilling to let you know how he really felt about the situation, and he avoided giving his jealousy away to his friends. As you exited laughing with the guy in his car—a godforsaken Jeep, for crying out loud—JJ was still unknowingly clenching his jaw, his mouth twisted in a disgusted frown.

Sarah, the only one still outside by now, smiled to herself and snuck up on him before reaching a hand to pat his back. The gesture was meant to silently convey far more than his poisoned mind could grasp at the moment.

He chuckled at that memory; you had to endure a girlfriend of his own during college, and he watched as two or three other guys broke your heart as well—he wanted to go out there and punch them every time, but preferred that only John B externalized that thought. From those memories, he realized he had looked at love from both sides of it with you, from give and take, but years later he wasn't so sure if you'd be keen on the idea of him ever again. JJ turned to you in the tub, whispering, "Where's that lobster I gave you that Christmas?" You were a bit taken aback by his sudden recall but smiled back, mimicking the tone of his voice, "Been keeping it on my bookshelf all year long now."

John B and Sarah were now playfully arguing about the two perspectives from when she joined the group, with Kie tagging along to remind them of how they had to make amends beforehand. It made JJ come back fully into the scene. As he looked around, he realized they were sitting in couples, at least Pope and John B, and he held back a nostalgic smirk at the thought of how his younger self would react to both his old friends now "pussy whipped," stuck in relationships and breaking the "no pogue on pogue macking" rule—he didn't know love at all.

He was different too, at least Kiara said so, coming at him a few days ago before graduation with a whole "you've changed, became more yourself and know how to separate what you went through from what you are, I'm so proud you're opening the surf shop—but please make it eco-friendly" speech. It was nice to look back and realize how his years and moments with the Pogue family kept balancing out all the rest. Now he would open a sick surf shop, Poguelandia flag above it and all, right in the corner from the souvenir one you worked since you were fifteen—he didn't know if you had bigger plans than that after graduating though, but that was an uneasy thought he preferred to ignore.

Tears and fears and feeling proud to say, "I love you" right out loud! Dreams and schemes and circus crowds, I've looked at life that way. Oh, but now old friends they're acting strange, and they shake their heads and they tell me that I've changed. Well something's lost, but something's gained, in living every day.

Kiara was the first one to leave, claiming that this was really good and that she knew that with the pogues there were never really goodbyes, but that she had an early morning tomorrow with a sea-turtle project. Then, as the fire died out and the minutes turned into hours, the two couples left as well. Pope and Cleo claimed that they still had to shower before going to bed, and John B only snuggled with Sarah, pushing her towards the house. As the couple giggled, JJ noticed from his peripheral vision when you jiggled your eyebrows at Sarah, but the blonde only winked at you, pointing at the both of you at the tub before turning back. You sighed, distancing yourself from him now that you had more space in the water, and JJ held back a smile as the tree lights illuminated your pink cheeks. At twenty-two, he felt just like a teenager in that moment.

There were a few quiet minutes then, you were looking intently at him, drawing each of his features with your eyes as if trying to tattoo the image of his wet torso on your brain, but JJ didn't notice; he was lost in thought, provoked by being alone with you again. JJ realized that ever since he could remember, even though your brother was his de facto best friend and even as the group grew larger, you were there. For every phase and every belief that each one etched into him, you were there. As he looked at both sides of life, at win and lose, you were right beside him, either winning and losing as well or just supporting him emphatically through it.

Somehow he could always just recall how his pogue life acquired a rose-colored filter with you in it; he'd recall life's illusions with you at his side. You were there. You were it. And he didn't know his next step at all, but he wanted you in it; ached for it even.

He feigned cold as an excuse to get you both out of the tub, grabbing the one towel thrown onto a chair and wrapping it around you as you exited as well. He threw a familiar, amicable smile in your direction to disguise how he was, again, lost in his own train of thought. A hand rested on the small of your back as he led the two of you to the Chateau. As you got to the front porch, the other reached for your pulse gently, trying to stop you from entering. JJ became conscious of how he was dripping onto the wooden porch, but he didn't care, calling you by your nickname in a low voice. He was acting fast, planning something but also acting instinctively, intending to speak just from memory.

"Hey, uhm..." he stopped himself again as your eyes locked onto his, growing a little bit nervous now. Your eyebrows shot up expectantly, and some of your hair was sticking to your wet face. You'd be the death of him.

"With any luck, by next year, I'll be going out with one of these girls..." Your brows pinched, and eyes flashed with recognition as JJ shuffled his phone, some drops falling from his hair onto the screen before he turned it in your direction with a picture of Kendall Jenner and sliding his finger so it would also show one of Giselle Bündchen. You laughed, gulping expectantly.

"But for now, let me say, without hope or agenda, just because we finished college— even though it's at Christmas that you tell the truth." You chuckled again, but felt like you were hyperventilating, unable to believe that this was really happening to you. Much less that JJ Maybank had memorized a scene from the "dumb chick flick" you obsessed with since you were a mere child. You battled with your own feelings as you tried to let him finish.

"To me, you are perfect, and my wasted heart will love you until you look like this..." He shuffled again with the tiny screen, a smirk on his face as he turned it to you. A photo of a very old and wrinkly woman made you chuckle. Under it, it read "former surfer lady turns viral as she advises to the risks of not wearing sunscreen." You couldn't hold the cackle that left you at that, not even worried about the rest of the group sleeping inside the house, which made JJ smile widely as well.

"Oh my God! Oh my God, I love you..." A loud sigh met a sob halfway as you looked up, feeling pounds lighter after saying so naturally something you had been burying for years, feeling absurdly proud of just that. "I love you so much, what the fuck! I've loved you forever." You beamed at him again, relief written all over his face as he said it back proudly. "I'm sorry for the wait; it wasn't on purpose—Swear it." He grabbed both your cheeks as you laughed, smiling from ear to ear as his face etched closer to yours by the second. Your noses were touching already when he whispered in a low tone, "fuck, y/n..." as your mouths glued together longingly.

The world seemed to fade away as your lips met, a rush of warmth spreading through you as if the sun had risen inside your chest. JJ's touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine as his hands cradled your face gently, his fingers tracing the curve of your jawline. Every moment felt like an eternity as you lost yourselves in the kiss, the taste of saltwater, beer and weed mingling with the sweetness of the moment.

For JJ, it was as if everything he had been holding back, every unspoken word and hidden feeling, was finally pouring out into this one embrace. His heart raced in his chest as he kissed you, his mind buzzing with the realization that he had found something truly precious in you. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, a culmination of years of friendship and longing finally coming to fruition.

As you pulled away, breathless and flushed, JJ's eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that took your breath away. In that moment, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again. You had crossed a threshold together, stepping into a new chapter of your lives filled with love, laughter, and the promise of a future together. And as you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, you knew that this was just what you wanted; like you were made for just that.

"I don't even want to come inside, I don't wanna-" you said, sighing mid chuckle, "don't wanna do anything right now, God, JJ, I'm like in a haze!" He clung to you, chuckling, his hands going to your arms, your neck, your hair—he wanted to touch all of you. "Always have the hammock..." he suggested, and you rushed your way there as if just walking would make you lose any time with him.

After you spent a while staring at the stars in the sky, listening to the chirping of crickets in between small, sloppy kisses, JJ sleepily muttered "I feel like I'm fucking high right now," you both laughed "like I'm floating—life accomplishment kind of thing." you swatted at his chest, lightheartedly telling him to stop being silly before readjusting in the wet towel that served as a blanket for the two of you.

Wrapped in each other's arms, you drifted off to sleep, the sound of the river running to meet the ocean lulling you into a state of contentment. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the warmth of JJ's embrace and the soft rhythm of his breathing. It was a moment of pure bliss, a fleeting glimpse of perfection in an imperfect world.

The warm rays of the morning sun gently kissed the faces of the sleeping pogues as they stirred awake, the sounds of birdsong filling the air. Stretching and yawning, they emerged from their makeshift beds scattered across the Chateau, the pull-out couch and matresses on the floor.

As they gathered outside to clean the space free of empty cans and wrapping paper, rubbing the sleep from their eyes, John B's gaze was the first one to fall upon the sight of JJ and you nestled together in the hammock, still fast asleep. He nudged Sarah first, but soon a collective smile spread across their faces as they exchanged knowing glances, a silent understanding passing between them.

"About time," Pope muttered under his breath, eliciting chuckles from the others.

John B grinned, looking at Sarah. "Looks like our boy finally made his move."

Sarah rolled her eyes playfully. "Took them long enough," she teased, but there was genuine warmth in her voice.

Kiara smirked, crossing her arms, she showed a satisfied facade even though she was jumping inside, bubbling with happiness for the both of you; the sparkle of her eyes being hard to hide. "Well, better late than never, I guess."

With a chorus of laughter and gentle ribbing, the pogues left JJ and you to enjoy your moment together, the feeling was that their little family had just grown a little bit stronger. You had woken up the moment the front door banged back against it's frame as it closed the first time, but feeling JJ's chest under your head, you decided to just keep your eyes closed, fighting a grin to show on your face at your friends' commentaries. You were home. And you only wanted to know life now if it was by JJ's side; especially if he'd be scratching your hair like he was doing just now, half a smile on his lips—"Did I take that long?" he questioned, jokingly.

"A lifetime."

If you look for it, I've got a sneaky feeling you'll find that love, actually, is all around.

[darkcircles4lyfe]

This doesn't have anything to do with anything, but i had a talk with a friend a few days ago, about shonen biasis and the way this shapes our expectations, and mha came up so i remembered how so many people apply those biasis HEAVILY into the manga, to the point that they sound like they're looking for a different story.

And one of those things that it seemed to be MOST talked about is exactly bkdk's relationship.

I have seen many times people from the fandom (sometimes really angrily) point out how in most cases Katsuki seems to basically take up not one, but four roles in Izuku's life and this includes putting him in situations that people associate with the MC's love interest, and it is weird that, despite Izuku "having a girl" for people to make assumptions about, he seems to completely repulse any female character that could be the counter part to Izuku's.

And this made us wonder if Katsuki's placement in those roles and lack of interest was made specifically because the author precisely did not want the actions that both do for each other as romantic but a whole another thing entirely, as a subversion for the these classic tropes, as he did by making the conflict between Ochako and Himiko not a "rivals fighting for the affection of a boy" but something that is connected to the plot of these characters instead.

Oh you bet! I am always down to talk about this, because I think about it a lotttt.

This reminds me, recently I remembered a funny habit I used to have with books I read. Like, back in middle school. I used to start by flipping directly to the last page and reading the final sentence. Usually this did not spoil anything whatsoever, but sure enough, by the time I read through the whole book, that sentence would take on new meaning.

So I started musing about what it would be like if only I could do this with bnha, if everything was already out. It made me feel so nostalgic…

Will the last panel be something grand, or something small? Hopeful or sad? Distant? Intimate? A parting message to the reader? Will it look like almost nothing of consequence to the unknowing eye—yet burst with hard-hitting subtext?

Of course I wonder about all the twists and reveals that might be still ahead of us, but it’s kinda soothing to think about how the whole thing could be put to rest. Because then I realize I’m not worried.

For once, this is not because the story is following so many tropes so predictably that I know exactly, in so many words, how it will end. It’s more like the story is a close friend who I’ve gotten to know well enough that everything they do is so “them” it makes me smirk. I'm often marveling at how Horikoshi has managed to pull all this off. How is it that (at least here in the west) people who aren't really paying attention call it basic and cookie-cutter. Even a Japanese animator called it "classic," and this interview shows such obvious dissonance between Hori and the interviewer, just... wow. But it's so clear that bnha has broken just about every rule in the book at this point, so much so that I struggle to condense it into words. I'm like--*gestures broadly at everything*--why haven't more people picked up on it??

Yet we still get bombarded with people saying "it's a shonen, c'mon, we all know how this will end." Um. No you don't. I KNOW there has to be a bunch of people who are secretly frustrated by Kacchan taking up all the roles and getting all the moments. It's not even in a mysogynistic way, because Kacchan is the most anti-dudebro character imaginable. Bkdk's relationship isn't intended for them and they know it... and you know what, I'm starting to ramble. You've heard all this before. The thing I should really be focusing on in your ask is the part where you mentioned how you and your friend were speculating about bkdk ending up as "a whole other thing entirely" rather than simply romantic.

Well, fuck it, I've been biting my tongue, but now might as well be the time I talk about this. I got into a bit of a disagreement with someone over it once and then I shut up. Because it's very difficult to approach the subject without being lumped in with those people who see bkdk as "brotherly" (ew) or otherwise try to push some "crisis of male friendship" agenda, or at the very least without being accused of enabling people to make excuses against bkdk being canon ad infinitum. So let me be clear that I do NOT want bkdk to have an ambiguous or open ending. I want their complexity and importance to be acknowledged. I want them to use their words. I think we may have created a bit of a false dichotomy there.

I am aromantic, and to suggest romantic relationships are inherently the most important and intimate goes against every fiber of my being. I also reject the idea that cut-and-dry gay representation is more desirable just because it is more easily understood by the masses than aspec representation or representation of relationships "beyond" both romantic and platonic. We recognize how ridiculous it is for people to expect Izu*cha at this point, right? Well, the reason they're so confident anyway isn't just because of heteronormativity. It's also because of amatonormativity, the assumption that romantic attraction trumps all: no matter how much focus bkdk get, Izuku blushed at Ochako, so that automatically makes them more "important." THAT is the notion that I want to challenge most. More than anything, I want bkdk's relationship to be fully acknowledged because they have so much more going for them than just attraction.

You and your friend make an excellent point, that it would be very much in line with Horikoshi's taste and the patterns of his writing so far if he chose to subvert the shonen romance trope not just by giving it to two boys, but also by disregarding its premise entirely. It's unlikely he'd try to stuff them into such a copy-paste ending right at the end.

So maybe they won't get the blushy confession, the obligatory kiss, the wedding, the 2.5 kids and a white picket fence. That's fine, we shouldn't pretend those tired tropes are suddenly revolutionary just because they're gay. But don't be disappointed! Without them, we have more room for things that are actually personally meaningful to bkdk to stand out and receive the nuance they deserve: talking through their feelings openly, building each other up like no one else can, understanding each other like no one else can, smiling at each other, embracing, holding hands, rushing to the other in the hospital, being glued at the hip (or even closer), healing mutual trauma, putting each other first in all things. Maybe we'll also get confirmation on Ochako's side as she moves on from her crush on Izuku. You know what other shonen manga took this exact angle as a way of subverting tropes and presenting genuine complexity? Blue Flag! There are so many ways to do bkdk justice.

Even a kiss isn't out of the question, if the right opportunity comes along. A perfect example of what I'm talking about is Good Omens (major season 2 spoilers) because the kiss between Crowley and Aziraphale was not at all about canonizing them. It was an expression of pain and desperation that just made sense at that particular moment. Neil Gaiman was adamant that if it took that kiss to understand the context of their relationship, you really weren't paying attention. I respect the hell out of that.

Recently I was even daydreaming about bkdk getting something similar to the sort of uh, shall we say tasteful nudity, that togachako got, because of how Izuku appears in the vestige realm.

Ya know like not in an nsfw way but in like a "this is so deeply intimate and soft that I feel like I'm intruding" kind of way... yeah. Because it represents vulnerability and openness and acceptance of someone as they are. And I don't care if people call that bait. It's not. It's beautiful. It’s honest.

[destinysbounty]

Huh. I just dug up an old fan-theory i came up with back when i was like 15. And while its definitely way too weak to hold up against any real scrutiny, it at the very least makes for some mildly interesting fanfic fodder so i thought id share it with the greater fandom hivemind.

(Dont come at me about the holes in this theory btw, i was practically a baby when i came up with this and it was one of my first attempts at theory-crafting. Trust me, ive come a long way since then)

Anyway, the theory goes like this:

While in the lighthouse, Dr. Julien builds a replica of his son. But try as he might to get it to turn on, it never actually works. Whatever special spark brought the first Zane to life is inexplicably absent from this one. So he locks it away in his basement, and never gives it the light of day again. This is the reason Dr. Julien never told Zane about Echo, or brought him with them - because at the time, Echo wasnt even functional. Wouldnt even turn on. Was nothing more than a lifeless shell collecting rust in the basement.

So how, then, did Echo become sentient by season 6? Great question! But uhh heres where the theory kinda starts to go off the rails. So buckle up, folks.

Basically the theory goes that when Zane died at the end of s3, his soul still lingered in Ninjago. And his disembodied spirit eventually found itself drawn to a vessel that was similar to the one he'd lost - one his father had built yet long abandoned. But his new body lacked the memory storage contained within his old one, and his resurrection effectively gave him almost complete amnesia. All he could remember was his name and his purpose (to protect those who cannot protect themselves).

Meanwhile, when Titanium Zane says hes a replica, hes actually completely right about that. Some fragments of his code left behind from his visit to the Digiverse gained sentience and inherited Zane's elemental power, creating the Zane we know and love today.

But the original Zane, the one that died fighting the Overlord, actually ended up becoming Echo Zane. Which then would have explained why Zane had so many holes in his memories after being resurrected, and why his sixth sense became much less active as well - he was only made from fragments of the real Zane's code, after all.

Now, as the big smart grownup i am today, i can look back at this theory my baby self had crafted and poke about a million holes into it. But...idk, i always feel nostalgic about this theory in spite of all that. Not just bc it was one of my first fan theories ever, but also bc it would have such fascinating narrative implications if true.

Like, the idea of Mr. E being Echo? Well, if we apply that to the concept of Echo being the Original Zane, then his hatred for Current Zane takes on a whole new dimension. It also gives me a lot of emotions about the whole Ice Emperor situation, as well as Zane's apparent discomfort towards his own statue.

And what kind of position does that put the rest of the gang in? If they had to choose between saving one or the other - the Zane who died for you, or the Zane who lives for you - which one would they choose? Could they choose? How long do you have to love a replica before it starts to feel more authentic than the original? And in that case, who becomes the 'real' zane? The one you love, or the one you lost?

Again. This theory has more holes in it than the Titanic. Cut me some slack, i was an idiot child and also a novice at making theories. But giving credit where its due, i do think it at least raises some interesting concepts. And Ive always casually wondered what would happen if it turned out to be true.

Like i said. Fanfic fodder.

[ecoamerica]

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[jimlingss]

two years!! :D it’s been two years since my final curtain call and seven years since Jimlingss began! Seven years!!! Now that’s a crazy yet meaningful number!

Hello to everyone reading this message :D hopefully you remember me (it’s ok if you don’t) and for those who care, hopefully this is a treat! just a quick update on my life — I successfully completed my first year of law school and what a whirlwind it’s been. 

I’ve had so many ups and downs in the past year and I honestly feel like I’ve changed a lot. like evolved from pichu to pikachu. It was my first time moving away from home, away from my parents, and making so many friends. it’s been 20% bitter and 80% sweet. overall, I feel like I’ve learnt so much about myself and became a lot more stable in who I am.

school is hard but completely manageable. luckily, I don’t think my choice was wrong. there are days I quite enjoy what I’m learning. I got 2 years left in the game. soon (hopefully) I’ll be making the big bucks $$$ and I’ll be able to fund my sugar baby dreams (except I’ll also be my own sugar mommy). Although my dating life is as stale as always with 0 movement, I’ve become close with a handful of folks that I hold dearly to my heart. guess I’m in my friendship arc hahahaha

funny enough, I actually came back to this blog out of my own volition 2 weeks ago and re-read some of my stories. I feel so nostalgic. some of my stories really slap ngl. anyway, I really miss creative writing so much. Fortunately, there’s a few extracurriculars at school that allow me to write creatively so it’s somewhat of an outlet for me. it’s not fully satisfying but it’s something!!

I regularly come back to tumblr to check messages and do plagiarism checks lol. Speaking of which, I’ll take this time to answer some messages in my inbox.

unfortunately, i don’t have any socials that anyone can follow me on. my socials are pretty private and only the people who i’m close to, I follow and vice versa. but no worries because I will always come back to this blog to do a yearly update so you’ll hear from me! I will satiate your curiosity if you’re every curious about what I’m up to!!

for anyone who ever messages me compliments to my stories and/or missing my presence, no worries, I read them all :) your messages and feedback is never lost! it’s very sweet and always warms my heart.

if you can’t reach my masterlist, it’s here lol

I’ve kind of fallen off my fic reading game so if you ask me if I know a specific fic, I won’t be much of help unfortunately ://

if my fics ever help you through hard times, then I’m super glad!!! life can undoubtably be downright terrible. life can really really suck (understatement). but I think it’s comforting to know that everyone at some point thinks the same. it’s a universal sentiment - and in that, you’re not alone.

anyway, that’s it for now! you’ll hear from me again!

I’ll be back! And I hope you will too! :>

[hyperfixated-fan]

Here is some of those wonderfully nostalgic girly-girl shows in vague order in which I watched/discovered them that no one asked for but I’m giving to you anyways.

1. First up, we’ve got the Horseland

Back in the day, I was a major horse girl (a part of me still is), but this show was so awesome and adorable. It’s just a bunch of gals riding their horses and hanging out at the barn. And their horses and other animals talk amongst themselves. It is all an animal lover like me could want. It’s just so cute and gives sweet life lessons. And occasionally, I found it interesting that they do touch upon some serious topics such as eating disorders and loss. The episode “Mosey” always makes me cry. All the episodes are on YouTube.

Overall, I have to say my favorite character is Alma Rodriguez.

2. LEGO Friends

The first generation of LEGO Friends is nostalgic, but I also seriously love the LEGO Friends: Girls on a Mission. It’s just a bunch of teenage girls getting up to shenanigans and being besties (Oddly, though they are high school age, we barely see them in school XD). I particularly enjoy Girls on a Mission (the episodes are on YouTube) because the episodes were so well put together and it fleshes out each girl a bit more uniquely. It’s a genuinely fun show though I generally am partial to LEGO shows. I am personally not a fan of latest generation of LEGO Friends. I’ve watched a few episodes and it’s just blegh. It might be the nostalgia talking but I just can’t get into it.

My fave character has always been Emma (she’s so adorable) and my fave ship is Emma x Ethan in the Girls on a Mission iteration.

3. Barbie Movies

Not sure if all the movies are pictured above, but there’s a good portion of them. I admit, I haven’t seen all of the Barbie movies (especially the good old classics mainly due to animation that did not age well so sorry) and did not really become a fan until later than most little girls. However, I still find the movies to be very enjoyable and cute. I think a lot of my affinity comes from many familiar Canadian voice actors being in most of the movies and I find it fun trying to pick out familiar voices.

A few of my personal favorite movies are “Princess Charm School” (it’s the first Barbie movie I ever watched with one of my best friends), “The Twelve Dancing Princesses” (so many voices and characters to listen to and try and remember), and “Mariposa” (I am rather partial to the voice of Chiara Zanni and loved her playing Barbie).

4. Ever After High

It is so sad that Ever After High ended after Epic Winter. I really wish we got to see more. I loved the imaginative twist on fairytale characters and the whole “facing your destiny” storyline. The princesses, knights, dragons, and wonderland were all great components as a lover of fantasy. Disney Descendants ain’t got nothing on Ever After. It was a very creative show and it was interesting to see all the characters that would pop up.

A few of my favorite characters are Rosabella Beauty, Ginger Breadhouse, and Lizzie Hearts. Call me basic but I really do like the ship Darabella (obviously the execution of it could’ve been better but I still like it.)

5. Miraculous Ladybug

Simply put, this show is a mess. Miraculous Ladybug barely made the list only because I have fond memories of it. I’m not caught up on any recent events and admittedly quit watching it after season 3 or 4 (I don’t exactly remember). The show had potential and many amazing fanworks, but after a while, the episodes just get repetitive. I still like the earlier seasons before things got too messy. As a lover of side characters, I also wish they fleshed out the side characters a bit more instead of keeping on creating more and more side characters. I still occasionally pop in to see what is going on and apparently Nathalie is dead?! Idk what’s going on and I love looking at spoilers with no context because it makes the show all the more funny.

My fave character list includes Alya Césaire, Nathalie Sancoeur, and Juleka Couffaine and I’m partial to the ship DJWifi.

6. Monster High

Since I was a fan of Ever After High, it was only inevitable that I would eventually become a fan of Monster High. It took a while but I eventually did fall in love with the show. And I fell hard. All the characters are so unique and while I absolutely love all the generation 1 content, I do not completely hate the g3 series. I loved the message of standing out yet belonging at Monster High, freaky flaws and all. The animation is very dated yet endearingly nostalgic at the same time. I love all the different twists on various monster creatures.

My favorite characters list gets pretty extensive, as I love g1 and g3 Abbey Bominable (I always love an ice queen), along with g1/g3 Cleo De Nile (bc she’s your typical mean girl/diva but truly cares for her friends), Robecca Steam (her steampunk aesthetic and little accent are adorable), Deuce Gorgon (a kind yet popular jockish character is rare), Jinafire Long (Chinese dragon is always a win), and Rochelle Goyle (she’s just neat).

Fave ships = Cleuce (CleoxDeuce) and AbbeyxHeath. I just love them okay!

7. Lolirock

I believe I discovered this show coming off of Storm Hawks and Steven Universe so the crystal motif and everything was already an intriguing concept for me (plus familiar Canadian voice actors drew me in). I just love the trio of girls trying to “secretly” protect earth with sparkles and spells while putting up the front of being a girl band (the songs are very catchy by the way if you can get past an ungodly amount of auto tune). The episodes gave me vibes similar to Miraculous Ladybug but somewhat better with less convoluted characters. Overall, it’s a very bright energetic show and I wish they would’ve delved into the backstories of the other princesses a bit more instead of focusing on Iris all the time. Here’s to hoping they eventually do come out with season 3. All the current episodes are on YouTube.

My favorite characters are the sisters Izira and Talia. They have so much power and the show needs to actually do them justice.

8. Mysticons

This one is definitely lesser known than most on this list. I found it shortly after LoliRock since it has similar features and characters. It’s a very simple show with simple characters but I am fond of it still (and I’m pretty sure it made me cry at one point. I don’t remember when but I remember something about it made me emotional). The fantasy magic of the world was definitely a big win for me. I think the creators did a decent job at world building. It’s your typical prophesied heroes must save the world from certain destruction but I found the show overall enjoyable and cute with a nice dose of found family thrown in.

My top favorite characters are Zarya Moonwolf and Emerald Goldenbraid.

9. DC Super Hero Girls

I started out as a G1 fan when it was still coming out and became a fan of the reboot as well. It was interesting to all these wonderful kickbutt superheroes placed in a high school -esque setting. The original series was very average with their shorts but it was such fun to see what characters would pop up to help (I even will tolerate and enjoy the LEGO specials). The reboot had better design and animation. I am sad it didn’t get a chance to run longer. My only qualm was that some characters had such a drastic change from their backstory and original character development that it moved from being whimsical and imaginative to simply keeping the name and having an entirely different character. *cough* Jessica *cough* They don’t get that she was such a powerful Green Lantern because she was bold but because most of the time she was scared out of mind due to her past trauma but still acted and pushed through the fear to save people.

Rant aside, my fave character is Jessica Cruz despite the reboot overhauling her character and erasing her backstory.

10. She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Not necessarily my favorite glittery girly series I’ve watched but definitely an enjoyable series. True to my usual form, I unfortunately did not end up caring for most of the main plot and characters. However, the idea of this show was fun nonetheless and it had its nice moments, so I’m glad it got a decent number of seasons. The magic, weaponry, and elemental powers drew me to this show. I wish they delved a bit deeper into the true effects and trauma that fighting a war would have on all of the characters as they are leaders of their respective kingdoms.

My favorite characters include Entrapta (little nerdy characters are almost always a win for me), Mermista (Vella Lovell was perfect for voicing her and her character design is nice), Netossa (another awesome blue character; if anyone’s seen Six: The Musical, does she vaguely remind you of Catherine Parr?)

Bonus: Rainbow High

An interesting premise though it ultimately falls flat for me because I am not a fashion-oriented person in the slightest. However, I still like the show and all the drama that comes with it. I just overall find it hilarious to watch the squabbles that happen because everyone is just so high strung. (Why do all the guy characters literally look the exact same with that same stupid little hairstyle?) XD

Fave characters are Ainsley Slater and Jade Hunter.

Bonus: God’s School

Greek mythology! Need I say more? This is such an imaginative show. It is even more amazing considering one guy does all the animation. The webisodes that are out are great and I definitely recommend watching them on YouTube. Zeus looks like Disney Hercules and I find that hilarious. All the character designs for the gods are so awesome and I love the details that help indicate who they are. Ignore the fact that over half of them are related in some form or another and everything is fine.

Fave definitely has to be Athena! (…bad*** in the arena. Unmatched witty and queen of the best strategies we’ve seen.)

Bonus: Tinkerbell

These are just cute adventures. I wish the series could’ve continued so we could’ve gotten movies highlighting each of the fairies.

My fave is Silvermist.

Bonus: Steven Universe

I personally enjoyed this show and know it had a large fan base so I don’t get why so many people are going back and hating on it so fervently. It’s a flawed show like any but it still has it fine points and I have a soft spot for it. I heavily debated on whether this qualified for a magical girl show but I think it does. It’s nice seeing Steven grow alongside the gems and it’s a good show to put on in the background.

My favorites have to be Garnet and Sapphire.

Honorable mentions that I never fully watched but seem nice:

My Little Pony - I’m disappointed in myself for never getting into this show because it has all the right points for me to like it, including great Canadian voice actors and magic and ponies. I have watched some episodes and enjoyed them but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sit through and binge the entire show.

LEGO Elves - watched some but I never got truly immersed.

Totally Spies! - never really gave it a go but it seems okay.

Winx Club - I tried to like it but the characters just didn’t hit for me.

W.I.T.C.H. - watched the first few episodes but nothing made me want to continue.

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

august 26, 2021 4:00 a.m. a balcony, somewhere

time somehow seems to simultaneously slow to a crawl and race beyond the speed of light. grant doesn’t remember when they’d ended up perched like lovebirds at the pinnacle of a staircase, peering out over the night-drenched landscape, but it must have been a while ago. customers have long since stopped streaming in and out of the restaurant on the street below.

he remembers in better detail the stream of their conversation–they’d shifted from food and a strangely peaceful, humorous discussion of kicking the bucket to movies, and at some point, paranormal stories came up along the way.

it’d be hard to forget talking to yunha.

there’s something curiously enrapturing about her, something that had drawn him to her when he first made eye-contact with her.

the look in her eyes, maybe. it’s piercing, like she’s baring right through your skin and into your soul, but not malicious or judgmental. it’s friendly, it’s curious, it’s playful.

the way she speaks, maybe. she’s the most engaged conversationalist he’s ever encountered. everything you say, whether she agrees or disagrees, is met with affirmations and a lot of nodding. yes, yes, of course. i see, i see. i understand. ohhh, wow! really?

she’s unraveling every shard of the puzzle that is his personality and piecing it back together in one whole picture, analyzing it. figuring it out. appreciating it.

or maybe it’s the sweetness that radiates off her. she appears unafraid to smile, instead all too happy to flash those pretty, crooked bunny teeth for the world to see.

“so, i'm going to guess you’re not accidentally good at singing.”

she seems not to mind revealing her own puzzle pieces either, and the more she says about herself, the more fascinated he is with her. with who she is. with what makes her tick.

“i hope it’s not an accident,” yunha replies, laughing, “because shit, then years worth of practice was a waste.”

“time enjoyed is never time wasted.”

the unabashed cringe of the line garners an immediate eye roll, but she still seems to find it funny.

they’ve definitely been sitting here a while. grant straightens his back, fixing his gradually slouching posture, and is is met with an immediate flash of pain, distinct from the chronic dull ache underlying every day of his life, that radiates down every vertebra.

“what got you into music, though?”

yunha’s rosy pink lips purse in thought as she dwells on the question.

“a lot of things. my parents like music. i listened to a lot of different kinds of songs my whole life, first with them, and then later with my friends. i had some time between classes and studying to spend having fun, but i couldn't spend any money, so my friends and i would go to this music store. we walked around and picked random albums to listen to on the headphones. we never bought anything.”

grant nods supportively. “what’s, like, the first album you remember really liking? or albums. you don’t have to pick one.”

“ah! i treasure so many albums. seo taiji and boys IV. i think that’s still my favorite nostalgic album ever. i also remember fondly, um, this girl’s in love with you by aretha franklin. i heard that at the music store, and i was so impressed by her talent. i still am.”

“i'm not a music expert. surprise! i know, i know, i'm sorry to tell you, i did not practice for centuries for that wonderful spice girls performance earlier. no, but seriously, i most often just listen to the same old emo stuff i liked when i was 13. so, unfortunately i don’t know the first album at all, at least not yet, but i do know the second one. you have fantastic taste, that’s a classic.”

despite his ignorance, yunha still smiles from ear to ear. “you should look up the first one! look up, like, seo taiji ‘come back home.’ that’s the most popular song on the album. i don’t wanna bias you, so listen on your own and make your own opinions.”

“wilco. and if you don’t mind me asking, how’d you turn the interest in music into a skill? you are talented, but i know it's very much a skill. it does take a lot of practice to become tangibly good at music.”

“to express myself,” yunha says plainly, “it’s easier to tell your story in art than talking about it, and singing is free. you don’t need supplies to learn it. but yes, i needed that kind of outlet, you know? i always liked singing, always did it, but i needed more than only entertainment from it over time.”

“oh yeah, art is helpful. i really should have gotten on that train earlier. i got on board about a year ago. it's much better for you than intellectualizing everything. or at least that's what i tend to do. do you perform, by the way? outside of karaoke, that is."

"sometimes. but also, not in a long time."

there falls a brief, but peaceful lull in the conversation. grant’s eyes draw to black night sky as he recalls the last haphazard art he’d created–the mushy-gushy attempt at processing the universe. seeing it hanging above him now, his thoughts are no less conflicting. light pollution washes out the shining sea of stars, but the sky still retains its beauty, its bewilderment. visible or not, an infinite chain of dimensions and celestial bodies exist in the vacuum of space, orbiting independent of him, yet factoring in the tiny fraction of his mass on the mass of the earth in their delicate ballerina dance across the fabric of spacetime.

the universe must have created me for some reason, for something other than anguish.

his own words. again. ever-present.

“i miss seeing the stars.” yunha’s buttery soft voice breaks his concentration. “you can’t see anything here.”

“polaris.” grant raises his left arm and draws his index finger across the sky until it hovers above the only star he’s seen thus far. “technically, that means we should be able to see sirius, too, but we don’t need to get all science-y and talk about magnitude and that polaris isn’t–”

“i would like it if you did.”

she was thinking of the stars, too.

synchronicity.

“aw shucks! well. i’ll say this, polaris isn’t the brightest star. we just talk about it way more frequently because it has the most cultural significance in the northern hemisphere for, you know, navigation reasons. but hey, give it about 12,000 more years, and it even won’t be the north star anymore. thank you, wobbly earth axis. but also boo, woobly earth axis, because it's a little sad to think about.”

yunha’s eyes glitter with fascination. “it’ll be something else?”

“yep! the next north star will be vega,” he explains, “come on down, you’re the next contestant!”

“maybe we’ll see it happen.”

“if my consciousness is still floating around as little dust particles, that’d be pretty sick. you know? forget fly me to the moon, fly me to vega. why not?”

“i don’t think i'll be dust,” yunha says, not missing a beat at all, even as her focus remains fixed on the faintest twinkle emanating from polaris, “it’s kind of troubling. you don’t want to be, like, stuck in the whole cycle of the universe, but if you’re still here, you can see some really beautiful things.”

“ah. reincarnation?”

“if you’re asking me, you’re not going to be dust. either you escape the suffering or you come back in some kind of physical form, human or not, and you try again.”

grant thinks about it for a moment. and then the feelings, like usual, spill out at once.

“i'm not going to lie, that idea has always given me the heebie-jeebies. i think it’s very cool as a concept, but i'm, like, man, i don’t want to do this shit again. also, look, we're doing the thing again. oh, and shit, that sounded judgmental. i just run my mouth too much."

"most people don't know they lived before. you can't really remember your other lives without a lot of study," she answers, "and no, you don't. i prefer to hear your real opinion. it's actually stupid when people tell you what they think you want to hear."

"do you ever wonder what you were up to last go-around?"

"not too much, but i always heard strange birthmarks and scars are signs from your last death. fears, too. things you avoid. so, i guess, like, a clown stabbed me in the neck with needles."

"are you afraid of storm drains, by any chance? if so, i think pennywise had it out for you."

"hahaha." yunha shakes her head. "wait, i have to ask. is it not worse thinking you can only live once? that's not uncomfortable? feeling like you have to make everything perfect in your one lifetime?"

"oh no, it's terrifying. dying and just being done with everything is eerie, too, because there are nice things to do and see here in the real world. you’re right about that. and yeah, there is a lot of pressure to get it all right. also, that's not even mentioning that there are people i love that i don’t want to be gone forever. i'd like to think they remain somehow. conscious or not. i kind of think they do, but i don’t know. am i contradicting myself? capital-P probably."

“you don’t know what to think.”

grant immediately bursts out laughing. “yeah, no, absolutely not. i do not know. i just kinda waffle around and hope some scientist throws out some numbers and whatnot that proves some explanation of everything correct. but that’s impossible. it’s literally impossible. we can’t even simulate or predict the wacky physics that were going on at the exact moment the big bang happened.”

“not to be, like, all quirky, but...” yunha reaches over, patting him on the shoulder. “maybe don’t think about it? you’re gonna go crazy. you can just not know? and it's fine. this doesn’t mean anything anyway. the answer to anything is already in you, it’s not out there.”

and then she, too, starts giggling all over again and her cheeks blush deep red from sheepish cringe.

another stereotypical line, but he doesn't mind. they sound better coming from her than him anyhow.

a second later and she checks the time on her phone. her cheesy smile erodes into a slight frown.

“ahh, i really need to leave soon. i have a schedule in the morning.”

grant checks the time as well, drawing the sleeve of his hoodie up just enough to read the minuscule roman numerals on his watch.

on the watch an ex-girlfriend gifted him. not päivi, but...

4:00 a.m.

fuck.

right.

you’re leaving the country in two hours.

[lloydfrontera]

a list of crimes bk moon has committed against me personally with the sequel in no particular order but you will Know which ones i feel more strongly about anyway:

javier smiling to himself and getting all nostalgic as he watches rakiel because he reminds him so very much of lloyd

like seriously this man cannot stop comparing the two of them and getting quietly happy because it brings back fond memories it is heartbreaking he literally has to remind himself to not get swept in sentimentality several times every time he talks with rakiel

and as if that wasn't enough damian and rakiel remind him so much of himself and lloyd that he ends up offering to help them without even thinking about it. like. he feels so identified with them, remembering how hard it had been for him and lloyd to go through that whole ordeal on their own that he just. tells them they have his support before he even realized what he's doing. he wasn't planning on doing that. good work on not getting sentimental babe.

when lloyd and javier are on a call planning how to defeat the demon king, despite the awful circumstances javier can't help but smile and then laugh at himself because no matter how terrible the situation is he still finds it enjoyable to prepare for something with lloyd like they used to do. "it was a feeling similar to a distant longing. or a joy that felt like going back to the past"

javier is pining so hard. like. it's insane.

AND HE JUST KEEPS SMILING SOFTLY WHENEVER HE GETS CONFIRMATION THAT LLOYD STILL HASN'T CHANGED HE'S STILL THE SAME PERSON JAVIER SPENT HIS LIFE WITH SOMEONE SEDATE ME

anyway

lloyd asking rakiel about javier. asking how he's doing. acting all nonchalant about it even kind of annoyed. and then once he's alone. sighing and then smiling faintly. "like the smile he used to smile at someone"

"'so you're doing well? i'm glad' a feeling that blooms for a moment. a memory that's suddenly missed."

i am. going to fucking explode.

and then. there's their actual face-to-face conversation. which. oh my god. i don't even know what to start with.

javier always saying "it's been a while lloyd-nim" no matter how long it has been since they last talked?? because any time at all is too long???

lloyd saying that if anyone hears him say that they'll think they're gyeonwoo and jiknyeo. y'know. the mythical forbidden lovers that live in different realms and can only meet when the stars align so to speak.

y'know. just casually comparing your protagonists to one of the most romantic and tragic couples in mythology. no biggie.

and again. javier smiling when he sees that lloyd is still just the way he was when they were together. hello. hi. can i help you.

lloyd knowing exactly how long it's been since they saw each other in person. down to the very day. "107 years, 7 months and 17 days".

javier getting really, really, really happy about it. about lloyd still being the same. and thinking that, maybe, lloyd feels the same way deep down.

lloyd being so very, very casual about saying "it's been a while so i'm glad to see you" very specifically calling back to the very thing javier says to him whenever they talk.

and then. and then javier. thinking as he sees lloyd leave. that it was really nice to meet him after so long. and that the sight of him leaving still felt the same as it did before. and wondering if those gyeonwoo and jiknyeo lloyd mentioned before felt like this too.

javier. comparing what he feels at seeing lloyd leave. to what the cowherd and the weaver girl felt at separating again.

bk moon i am crawling on your ceiling

anyway if this novel doesn't end with the barriers between hell and heaven falling apart so lloyd and javier can spend the rest of eternity together instead of helplessly pinning over the other and reminiscing over the lifetime they already spent together i will throw someone off a bridge <3

[wolfstarshipping]

the marauders & sex ed / casual shoebox propaganda

All the talk about the marauders and sex ed made me nostalgic for the shoebox project, so I reread chapter 13 (the one where Remus has literary wet dreams and they all get "the talk", more or less) and need to share my favorite bits of this classic:

Sirius

"I bought some -- some literature," Mr. Potter continues, shuffling through a few pamphlets in his lap. Pamphlets, Sirius thinks. I will never be able to look this man in the eye again. He isn't even able to look this man in the eye now, staring down at his shoes and wanting, more than anything else, to have the simple life of a shoelace. He'd only ever have to worry about fraying at the edges, or getting chewed on by puppies. That would be the life, even if it didn't have any pudding. "Well," Mr. Potter says, "how does this one sound? It's Perfectly Natural."

James

James knows now he will never, ever have sex. Some day, in the near future, once he has worn Lily down for the second time, and he finds himself locked with her in a passionate embrace, her lips sweet and her hair against his hands, he will remember suddenly and without warning this lone image of his mother, peering down at him from behind thick-rimmed spectacles, her gray hair wild from humidity and chores, saying sexual intercourse! triumphantly. And that will be the end of that.

and of course also:

"You need to be informed." His mother beams at him. "Now, of course, I'm sure you're very curious about all these new feelings you're having, and I want you to know that you needn't be ashamed of any of them, and I want you to ask me some of those burning questions." James gapes at her. "Your parents," she says, "can be a fountain of knowledge about sex in all its many forms." James's brain shuts down completely. After a moment he manages to croak out, "Mum?" "Yes, dear? Don't be afraid to ask the tough questions." "I have to go take a shower." Forever, he adds silently. "You are a little ripe," she agrees. "New glands, of course. Puberty! What a beautiful thing!""I can never speak to you again," James moans hollowly. "I'm going to move to Siberia and become a nun. Thank you, mum, for shaping my life this way.""Dear, I understand you're a little hesitant," his mother says placidly, and kisses him on the forehead before helping herself up to her feet. "But please understand that we -- your father and I -- know from personal experience that sex can and should be one of the world's most beautiful things, and you should never be ashamed of yourself sexually or--" "HOLY GOD IN HEAVEN," James bellows, hurling himself into the bathroom and slamming the door.

Remus

"Your…book," Remus repeats. Oh God, do they know? They couldn't know. Maybe literary dreams are some kind of Lupin family thing, and when they start then you're about to be initiated into the Lupin Family Secret. "I just -- I wanted to look up some, er, dreams." "We know," his father says. He leans across the table, putting a comforting hand on Remus' shoulder. "We just wanted you to know that these dreams happen to everyone." Remus gapes at him, aware that his mouth is unattractively filled with half-chewed peas. "Wh -- they do?" "Of course they do, sweetheart." His mother smiles at him, fond and understanding. The panic rises in Remus's throat. "You see, when you reach a certain age, your body starts to have…certain urges." "No," Remus says quickly. "No urges. There are no urges." "Of course there are," his mother presses, "and they're perfectly normal. It's hormones, you know. A function of the body. Nothing to worry about." "No urges," Remus insists. "No urges." "There's no need to deny it," his mother soothes. "We understand that you must be feeling -- confused, and alone, and possibly intimidated. It is, after all, a new phenomenon. You must be asking questions, like 'What's happening to me?' and 'Am I the only one?' But you aren't alone, dear." "I went through it, myself," his father says, slicing a piece of roast. "No urges," Remus says again. He's forgotten any other words exist. "Now, Remus," Mrs. Lupin says patiently, "we thought that, since you enjoy reading so much, a few books on the subject would prove very useful." "Am I still speaking English?" Remus babbles. "It sounds like English to me. Why aren't you listening? No urges. No urges!" "Well," Mrs. Lupin attempts, "the man at the store suggested this cartoon version for young men. Do you want to take a look?" "Not if it's about urges," Remus says, feeling hysterical. "I get it," his father says, winking largely at him. "No urges. Right? We'll just leave these in the living room. Just in case." Remus stares down at his peas. From now on, he supposes he won't be able to eat peas. He'll forever associate them with this sick, desperate nausea, his mother's helpful expression, his father's demented, lewd wink of conspiratorial understanding. "Ack," Remus says.

Peter

"Peter Wimsley Pettigrew, get your tail down to this room this instant!" Peter scuttles downstairs, not really having any choice in the matter. His mother is glowering at him, holding up something in her hand that looks like…a sock. A very small, rubbery sock. (...) "I don't understand," Peter says numbly. "Socks are supposed to go in the wash. Aren't they?" His mother's lower lip quivers. Her eyes flash with flecks of red fire, demonic and accusatory. Peter shrinks back. "Intercourse!" his mother howls. "It is a filthy practice, riddled with disease! Into the bath, young man! Two hours!" Peter turns tail and runs. "Do you have any idea?" his mother's voice follows him. "The warts -- herpes -- untold infections -- unsanitary -- disgusting -- filthy -- no son of mine--!" Peter slams the door to the bathroom behind him and locks it. It didn't even look like one of his socks. It was too small to be one of his socks. It must have been one of his sister's, got mixed up in the wrong laundry. He's not entirely sure where all this talk of intercourse comes in, and how warts got thrown in the mix, but he doesn't often listen to his mum and secretly encourages dust bunnies as pets, until she takes them away. It isn't as if he has to listen to her. Oh well, Peter thinks, and runs a nice, hot bath.

All quotes are from the shoebox project by dorkorific & ladyjaida.

[igotanidea]

Surprise : Matt Murdock imagine

asked by @v4leoftears as a part of my celebration

A/N: it;s been a while since I wrote for Matt, and damn! It's nice to get back to that :D, words in italics are the the references to the past, at first, and Matt;s thoughs, later.

****************************************

„Suprise!”

Matt could barely do as little as open the door to his place when Karen, Foggy and  Y/N jumped out of different furniture and started happily screaming. They have been planning this little birthday party for him for a while now. Even though Y/N was not sure about hiding in the Daredevil’s apartment, her friends convinced her to do so.

“Come on! It’s gonna be fun!” Foggy said

“Unless he goes full vigilante mode and kills us all in a blink of an eye. You do realize he can hear people heartbeats, right? What do you think would be his first reaction upon sensing three of those in his flat?” she scoffed

“You are too modest, my friend. Everyone knows Matt can tell your heart from everyone else’s. It just beats differently, cause he is soooo in love with you” Nelson grinned at poor, blushing girl.

“Stop it , Franklin!”

“Don’t be me mad at me…..”

“I'm not mad!”

“Last time someone used my real name was probably in middle school, so yes, I can tell you are.”

“We can use some nice scent to calm him down” Karen suggested “I don’t think he would become suspicious if he smells the freshly baked cake or something like this. Or maybe we can get some of his favorite takeout?”

“Nah.” Y/N shook her head “it’s his birthday. We are not taking take-out. If anything I am going to prepare something nice from the scratch.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you agreed to this. I was truly worrying you were going to leave us alone with all the preparations.”  

“When did I agree…..?” Y/N trailed, but quickly realized how tricked she was “oh, damn…..”

The three friends had their hands full for the last couple days. The hardest task was probably pretending that they had no clue Matt’s birthday were coming. Even though he was throwing hints left and right.

“I think I should replace my hoodie soon, it seems like it is tearing.” He said one day.

“Really? I know a nice shop with good men’s clothes so I can take you there.” Y/N replied not even looking up from her documents

“I’m running low on medical supplies” he whined on the other

“too many dangerous adventures lately?” Foggy laughed “maybe the devil needs retirement.”

 “I might be taking some time off next Thursday., That’s a special date for me” was probably the most suggestive.

“All right. I’ll write it down so no one forgets and won’t take any clients of yours then.” Karen smiled brightly not catching the bait.

So all that left Matt in sad belief that no one of his friends remembered and made him just a bit more nostalgic than usual. He spoke less and tried to bury himself in the work. The plan was working just perfectly.

The only thing left to do was performing some magic so the three of them could leave the office early on that big day, without making Matt suspicious. Now that, that would be a challenge, no doubts. He was just too… careful and observant. 

But during all those times of being friends with him, Foggy, Karen and Y/n got sneaky and creative as well. Maybe even more than Matt, since, after all, they were the ones who had to keep his identity a secret and come up with excuses for him being late or bruised or disheveled.

So when the next Thursday finally came, miraculously Y/N got sick, Karen found a lead of a new investigation and Foggy had a family emergency. As a result Matt was left alone in the office, sulking, putting on his characteristic sad wet cat expression and getting lost in thoughts. Somewhere around six he gave up completely and with a deep sigh left the office heading straight towards his apartment. Apparently the only thing he could hope for (even on his b-day) was getting into gear and getting beaten up.

Yeah, well. If only he had more faith in his friends.

“SURPRISE!”

“What…..?” his surprised gaze landed somewhere above Y/N’s head, all his posture asking for any kind of explanation. “What…..?”

“Oh, you silly one!” Y/N rushed towards him, enveloping him a tight hug in which he immediately got lost “Please tell me, you did not actually think we forgot about your special day?”

“I….. I kinda did…..”

“You are a man of a little faith, my friend” Foggy laughed, reaching for the paper hat and putting it on Matt’s head.  “We’re gonna party like we did in college.” he added, handing him a bunch of party baloons in different shapes and sizes.

“We weren’t exactly party animals, Foggy.”

“Stop embarrassing us in front of the girls, Murdock!”

“If only that were the only thing that you can get ashamed of” Y/N rolled her eyes and grabbed Matt’s hand leading him inside “stop standing in the threshold birthday boy. There’s more than just some gadgets which were actually Foggy's ideas. ”

“Now you got me worried. I seriously hope you did not set fire in my apartment”

“Idiot!” Y/N smacked his head playfully “use some of your supersenses! Do you smell burnt?”

“Not really.” He smiled lightly “it’s actually pretty nice scent. What did you make?”

“Something special.” Karen grinned, getting the food out the oven “we figured you could actually use some home-cooked meal, instead of take-out again.”

“You shouldn’t have…..”

“Nonsense.” Foggy muttered.

“You, Nelson, have nothing to say in the matter! We made it all from scratch, you just came for the done!”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I brought the presents! That was some heavy lifting”

“Guys!” Karen interrupted Y/N and Foggy’s banter “stop fighting, we should focus on the man of the hour.”

“No, please.” Matt whispered “laugh and bicker all you want. I haven’t had so much laugh and fun in here for a while. It’s just …. nice. Thank you all.”

“Don’t thank us, yet. At least not before tasting and opening the gift.”

“You really shouldn’t have…..”

“Mattie….” Y/N took a step towards him “listen to me” she grabbed his face in her hands and looked him straight into the eyes “you. deserve it. All right? Nod If you understand.” He nodded obediently “don’t you ever think differently, love.”

“Ok, you two lovebirds, come sit and let us eat! I’m hungry!”

“You are always hungry, Foggy!”

“I’m a busy, important man! I’m entitled to be hungry. Can I start now?”

“ NO!” Karen and Y/N yelled in unison

“WHY?!”

“Not before a birthday cake!”

“There’s a birthday cake?” Matt raised his happy, gazeless eyes onto his friends “really?”

“Of course. What’s a b-day party without a cake? Now, here.” The girls put the dessert onto the table and lighted the candles.

“We weren’t sure how old you were, you ancient one….” Foggy joked

“We were actually surprised you lived this long…..” Karen added

“So this is just symbolic number.” Y/N ended the sentence “But the wish is yours to make.”

“I don’t…..”

“Sh! You don’t have to say it outloud. Just think it. It’s all right.”

“All right.” Matt whispered, his eyes glimming a bit as he leaned over the candles and blew them off in the first try.

“Please, I just want them to stay with me like this. I don’t want to be alone ever again”. He though

“Yes!” his friends clapped happily “you made it, it’s gonna come true! Happy birthday, Matt!"

It already did. He closed his eyes, trying to process all those happy feelings bubbling inside him. Thank you, lord. I don’t deserve any of this.

“Finally! Can I eat now?!”

Matthew Murdock never believed he could be happy. He was used to constant pain, fear, guilt and regret.  The feeling on carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders all alone. He was a martyr, who put himself on the cross and forgot how to get down from it. And now? Now all that emptiness that was his best friend, was extruded by laughing, joy and that warming presence of his favorite people – friends and the love of his life. They really were here. Despite everything he did, what he put them thought, they never stopped believing in him, never left him. God, he truly did not deserve them. Their voices, jokes and bantering was exactly what he needed. A reminder that no matter what he was not alone. He smiled lightly, digging into the food. Made just for him. To celebrate him. All the effort they put into that, all the planning and preparations. It was just too much to handle and he started to shake, almost unnoticeably by anyone.

Anyone except Y/N, who sat the closest to him.  

“Matty?” she reassuringly put  a hand on his shoulder throwing him off his reverie “Are you all right?”

“I’m just…. I need a second all right?” he stood up from the table and exit the room, followed by his friends’ surprised gazes. Y/N didn’t even need to think twice when she walked right after him towards the bedroom. Her man was just sitting on the bed, sobbing lightly and that made her blood freeze in her veins.

“Matty?” in a blink of an eye she was by his side, cradling his head and taking all the mixed-up emotions filling him whole “what happened, love? Sh.” She caressed his cheek lovingly “it’s all good. Tell me. I can’t let you go through a mental breakdown tonight. And well, ever. But especially tonight. Tell me, Matt.”

“You’re just all so good to me.” He whispered, hiding face in the crook of her neck “I still can’t process that…”

“Process what, silly? That we love you? That we care about you? That we only want what best for you? Even if sometimes requires tough love?”

“Yes.” He confessed and his confession made her tighten the grip on him

“Good thing we can always remind you.” she smiled and kissed the top of his head

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“Of course. I told you. You deserve it. You are a good person, Matthew Murdock. Stubborn like hell and individualistic, for sure, but deep down, nothing but good.”

‘Can we stay here for a while?” he asked just wanting to be with her until he got back his composure.

“I think….” She trailed, but sudden yelling from the dining room cut her off.

“Are you two gonna come out so Matt can open the presents?!”

“WHO’S BIRTHDAY IS IT, FOGGY?!” Y/N yelled back “WHY DO YOU FEEL THE URGE TO TELL PEOPLE WHAT TO DO IN WHAT ORDER?!”

All Foggy did in response was a happy laugh.

“something tells me he's getting another kind of present there!”

“Shut up, Franklin!” she couldn’t help but blush a bit “what do you say, jubiliarian, shall we get back?”

“Only if you give me your present later…” he smirked and kissed her cheek.

“We’ll see about that…..”  

[lala3244]

The family you chose

- a self indulgent story. I didn’t really elaborate the story, it feels like a prologue or something -

Warning: none I think?

When I first arrived here I was scared. All those demons looking down at me. I am not small but I felt minuscule next to them. And they were all so good looking. When the angels introduced themselves I couldn’t believe it. Was I dreaming? Demons and Angels? Are they real?! Then Solomon talked. Now magicians too? What was happening? I was speechless, I was taking time to process all of that. Once everything was explained, I kind of went along with it. I did what they told me to do without asking any questions. I Followed the Avatar of Greed everywhere he wanted to go. As the months passed the closer I got to all of them. Finally, I belonged somewhere. All the attention I used to crave back in the human world I had it in the Devildom. In the human world, I was just average. Smart but not too smart, pretty but not too pretty, nice but not too nice, generous but not too generous, well average. But here, I was finally someone. I felt loved by people who were not blood relative and it felt exquisite. Growing up, I never had a group of friends, just a few friends who actually hated each other but now I had a group of friends, a family that I chose, well I was kind of forced into it… but in all my years I had never been included like that. They would always call me when something happened or when they planned something. They all wanted me to come along with them.

Finally, I had to go back to the human realm. For the first few weeks, I was glad to be back home and to see my family. I spent a few days at the beach, soaking in the sun that I had missed for a year. The demons couldn’t contact me and I was glad; I was less prone to miss them but I went back to my house and it hit me. I was living far from my family my childhood friends all scattered around the country I was living in but none near me. I was truly alone. The solitude never bothered me really but after a year living with 7 rowdy demons, my house felt empty.

Today was my first day back at work. I don’t know how Diavolo, the Demon Prince, managed it but I could keep my old job and I was glad. I loved my job and my colleagues, I was glad to see them. The day went quickly but when I went back home, the loneliness hit me. I put some music on very loud and decided to take a shower. I undressed and looked at my naked body. The pact marks I made with the brothers during the year in the Devildom were looking at me. I traced each of them with my fingers, remembering how I got them all. It made me nostalgic. I knew I couldn’t summon any of them but the desire was there and really strong. I was tracing the pact of the Avatar of Pride, Lucifer and without me doing it consciously I was starting to pronounce the spell to summon him when my phone beeped. I stopped and shook my head, scolding myself in my head. I grabbed my phone and saw that I had a notification from Solomon asking me if I wanted to go to the Devildom with him. I could feel a smile creeping up my face and my chest tightening with excitement. I replied that yes I would! Finally, I was going to see the family I chose again…

[toothfa-1-ry]

["camera is rolling in 3-2-1 action"]

["who was your greatest love and why did you fall inlove with them?"] -Mark Lee

GENRE: Interview format, angst, fluff(?)

PAIRING: Mark x FemReader

WARNINGS: Swear words

A/N: very very inspired by those "who was your greatest love and why" kind of reels and I might make this a series but then again I might not :>

(✧)

["okay- the camera is rolling. You can start now."

"Who was your greatest love and why did you fall inlove with them?"]

Mark's eyes widen as he awkwardly begins to laugh: "Oh wow- that is a deep question"

[he continues laughing awkwardly, looking around his surroundings]

Mark scratches his neck: "um- yea my greatest love huh"

[he pauses for a while and lets out a soft sigh]

Mark says with absolute certainty before nervously laughing: "My greatest love was definitely my college girlfriend."

Mark mutters, embarrassed: "god- she might see this"

["what was her name?"]

Mark pauses for another while and lets out a small laugh thinking about her: "her name was y/n. She..she was really pretty. With the prettiest smile"

Mark gives a small nod: that's how I remember her.

["how did you guys meet?"]

Mark unscrews the water bottle as he says: we met through one of my friend in college. She was basically a friend of a friend.

Mark slowly keeps the water bottle down as he says softly: I mean that's how she met me. I had already seen her once, before in campus. I guess you could say that she had this sort of attraction to her.

["were you attracted to her? At first sight"]

Mark's laughs again: yea. I was very attracted to her. That's why my roomate introduced us, because I couldn't stop talking about her at 3 am apparently.

["what was she like?"]

"she..she was like- sorry" Mark mumbled a apology as we stopped and waited for a few minutes "She was like rest to me."

[Awkward silence]

"Oh god wow that sounded way better in my head I swear" Mark laughs again "let me explain what I meant...She was my place of comfort.

"She was the only person who I could really not try to be anything or anyone else. I didnt need to try to be special or anything, I could just be me. So yea..she was sort of my place of rest"

Mark's smile slowly fades away as he looks at his hands: "I was a music major and she well she was a history major"

he continues: "god- I remember her being really smart with these glasses which she would never wear" he shakes his head letting out a chuckle.

Mark contemplates saying something for a while:"I used to uh- overwork myself ? Back then in college before I met her I used to go even 3 days without sleeping. Was practically a zombie but after meeting her. I felt human again."

Mark looks around nervously unsure of whether to say or not: she reminded me to live...and to love. To live my life to the fullest and love to the fullest.

["when did you realise that you loved her?"]

Mark lets out a soft sigh: "uh so- well..I- this is gonna make me sound like a jerk"

Mark grimaces slightly before letting out a small laugh: I uh- actually forgot our date this one time."

[the staff gasp]

Mark quickly says: "I know..pretty shitty of me but I can explain! No I swear-"

"I was up late all night doing my assignments and I couldn't sleep not even one bit. Like- the entire night just consisted of coffee and then morning rolled up but by that time i had fast asleep. Completely gone, in snooze land, wasted but in a sleep sense and not a drunk sen-"

["let me guess. You missed the date"]

Mark grimaces: "yea..I sorta did. And i felt awful. I still do"

"anyways next thing I know I'm wide awake remembering our date, I look at the time and I'm already an hour late"

Mark laughs: "I was getting ready to meet her and there she was- she was right infront of me holding a bowl of soup in my apartment just as I was getting ready to go out and meet her"

Mark's smile turns melancholy, his eyes turn nostalgic : "there she was infront of me, not angry at me for missing our date. God- she was there worried for me"

"she was all dressed up but there she was in my apartment scolding me for not taking care of myself, scolding me for not eating well."

[staff asked "what about the date?"]

Mark begins to laugh: "that's what I asked her to. She began scolding me even more saying that my health is more important than a silky date for her. She said that any moment with me feels like date and that she didn't care of I missed the date if it means taking care of my health."

Mark suddenly grows quiet: "but I knew it did matter. Even though we spend time together it wasn't exactly a date. Not a proper one anyways. But she didn't care about that."

"yea. I guess you could say I realised I loved her that day. I realised loved her so much, and that she loves me too. So much"

["something about her that you can't forget/miss"]

"honestly.." Mark paused he looked unsure of what to say or rather if he should say it.

"everything, I miss everything."

["everything?"]

"everything." Mark repeated firmly. "From the way she talked to the way she looked at me. I really miss her scolding me to go to sleep or to eat my meals. That's why I always remind my friends to eat and sleep well yknow. That way you know someone cares."

"she cared for me" Mark smiled sadly and sighed

["what happened?"]

Mark doesn't look up, he stays quiet for a while: "I happened"

["you happened?"]

Mark remains quiet

....

...

"I always- I was always lacking. I was always insecure. I was insecure about me, us. I was afraid"

Mark lets out a soft sight as he shakes his head: "she was amazing. Absolutely perfect, and perfect people deserve other perfect people. Perfect people like her dont deserve half cracked wreck downed people like me"

Mark looks uncomfortable as he mumbles softly: "she deserved more than me. And i- deep down. Even when I asked her out, even when I ask her to be my girlfriend. Deep down I knew that she deserved more than me."

"she was like the sun. And I was like one of the 8 planet's-

Mark lets out a scoff: God who am I kidding? I wasn't even a planet... I was just a piece of rock floating near around her. I was like Pluto, miles away from her, revolving around her. I needed her warmth, I wanted her warmth. But my existence was nothing compared to hers.

["you broke up with her?"]

Mark pauses, looking down to his shoes, he fidgets uncomfortably: "yea. I did. I ended the things between us. I ended us. Because why should I stop her from meeting someone who actually deserves her ynow? Who actually is..who actually is worthy of her. Someone who isn't me"

"did I love her? Of course I did, did I ever love anyone else like I did to her? No. Never. I could never love somebody the way I loved y/n. She was my greatest love for a reason and she'll always be my greatest love"

"always"

["if you guys could get back together, if you had another chance with her, would you take it?"]

Mark is left with his thoughts, he remains quite. The entire studio remains eerily quite

"no"

["no?"]

Mark doesn't say anything again for a few minutes before showing a sad smile : "no. I won't get back together with her. If anything I'd go back into the past and make sure she never crosses roads with me."

"I caused her so much pain. I caused myself so much pain. I dont want us to feel that pain all over again. We were both young, a little too foolish, far too naive. We didn't know what was going on, and it was beautiful.. but all things beautiful also have some pain in them"

["even though you miss her? You still won't give the both of you a chance again?"]

Mark looks straight at the camera's, his eyes sad but his voice firm: "you see, she didn't deserve my love. She deserved the stars and the moon and I couldn't give her that. She deserved the sky infinite and the entire earth"

"she deserved everything. But she didn't deserve to be stuck with someone like me"

"I didn't deserve someone like her."

"so no. Even if I had the chance to get back with her I wouldn't, for the same reasons why I left her. I was lacking"

Mark looks away from the camera, he touches his hands looking at his fingers.

He finally looks up again: "and I still am. I'm still lacking for for, I'm still lacking to be worthy of her"

["okay and cut-" Well done everyone!"]

Mark claps his hands, shaking the tears that were forming at the back of his eyes.

"that was great everyone!" He laughs, complimenting the staff. Maybe by laughing and smiling he could forget everything. He could pretend that he's okay.

["hey Mark?"]

Mark looks up at one the staff as he wears his jacket: "yea?"

["thanks for sharing that story with us man"]

Mark just smiles as he picks up his water bottle, walking out of the studio.

He waves goodbye to the producer who was busy watching the footage: See you later Rennie

"see you later Mark!" The producer waves him goodbye

Mark's says goodbye to all the staff again as he left, unaware that two of the younger staff were talking about him.

["hey did you realise that he's the only one who calls our producer by her first name?"]

["Leave it Chenle..producer and him are probably friends. Just stick to reading the script properly"]

["I'm just saying Jisung....anyways. Whose the next person we're gonna shoot?"

["some guy named Huang Renjun"]

"okay! Huang Renjun? Yes? Your coming up next. Please sit here comfortably and one of our staffs will briefly explain what we're doing today" the producer ushers Renjun towards the seat in the middle as she shoots him a smile

"hey kid- brief the guy about what were doing today okay?" The producer says to one of the youngest staff members who was to say the least, very shocked but very ready

"you feeling nervous? Yea? A little? Haha don't worry"

"okay so basically we're asking a few people a question. All you have to do is answer them honestly and well yea that it's"

The young male nods as he sits down in the chair in the middle of the room full of camera's and staff. He looks around the dark grey room and flashes a smile to the camera, signalling that he was ready.

"camera is rolling in 3-2-1 action" "who was your greatest love and why did you fall in love with them?"

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Currently Watching - January

aka The Masterlist

Because I love a good little list - in alphabetical order! 😊

Regularly updated during the month, latest update 27.01.2024

A little link to my favorite bl-tropes-collection 💙

I am happy about gif-requests 🌼

Here you can find all of my gifs.

And if you want to show me something, just let me know with #josistag

At the end you can have a look at what we can expect in January with a MDL link and a link for a trailer (if avaible).

This is guaranteed to contain spoilers!

1. Cherry Magic (7/12 on Viu - Thai)

I love the japanese version and I try to not compare those two with each other. And I really like this version. I love TayNew together and the chemistry is so chemistrying. Even though I don't like GMMTV and the japanese network for their contract and copy right shit, I appreciate the english subtitles on Viu so we international fans still can enjoy the show. And I do enjoy it so much!

2. Cityboy_Log (11/? on Youtube - Korean)

Soon-to-be Idols, actors and models vlog their days of photo shoots and meetups and how they fall in love with each other. It is surprisingly good and the acting is excellent. It really feels like a "real" vlog and that is what we are all here for. I really enjoy those four men on my screen.

3. Cooking Crush (6/12 on Youtube -Thai)

I have to admit beside Not Me, I am not the biggest fan of OffGun. Their slapstick humour is just not mine. The episodes got quite better with time. It is not a much watch for me, but I like it.

4. Dead Friend Forever (1/12 on iQiyi - Thai)

Do I like horror? Nope, not at all. But so far I had fun with the first episode. Everytime there was some suypence I just looked away and as long as there are no creepy sounds I am good. The plot gives such a typical highschool/college horror vibe and I kind of like it.

5. For Him (1/12 on iQiyi - Thai)

I don't know if I will keep up with this one. Actingwise it is not that bad. We have to wait a bit for a deeper story. Right now it is just friends with benefits and I really hope there is something more to come. But a safe-sex-policy! I like that. And I forgot about this one... Guess it was a little bit much these past weeks. I don't know if I'll drop this at the end of the month or not...

6. Happy Ending (1/3 on Youtube)

In Strongberry we trust. Do I have to say more? I enjoyed the first episode. It is a miniseries about two highschool classmates who obviously like each other. One of them is remembering their time together in school as he is scrolles though his old diary. It has a nostalgic feeling.

7. Love for Love's Sake (6/8 on Gaga)

Oh I love this one so much! I missed a good korean bl! And now I wish I could have waited until it finished airing so I don't have to wait for them to finally fall in love. And I loooove Tae Myung Ha's voice so much! I love is character. And the plot is something unique and I am really interested where this is going! Just so good!

8. Pit Babe (11/13 on Youtube - Thai)

Ladies and Gentlemen! We have an Omegaverse! I am still in shock! I usually don't dive into the omegaverse, but I did read some webtoons. I am curious how they'll play it out. What the hell was this conversation about wanting kids? Is there mpreg? Why do I have to think about such stuff... It would be something different indeed. And as far as I can tell, this is going a direction I never thought I would go, but I go down that road anyway.

9. Playboyy (9/14 on Gaga - Thai)

I am intrigued! I needed to call my best friend and tell her about what I have seen. Not just the amount of sex and masturbation and wet dreams, but the way it is filmed. I am intruígued! It looks like a romantic dream combined with porn. It is so artsy and it feels like watching a ballet. In it the dance explains the plot and here the sex, the camera, the lightning and everything around the plot describe the plot. It is so good!

10. Sahara Sensei to Toki-kun (5/8 on Gaga - Japanese)

Toki is a little bit over the top for me, a little bit too goofy, but the obverall first impression was not that bad. And to be honest who didn't have a crush on a teacher during their school time? Mine was my german teacher in 10th grade. He was young and he wore leather pants. He was cool and really good at his job. I loved learning at that time.

11. Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (2/10 on Gaga - Japanese)

Love at first sight and a confession in the first episode. I hate the MDL comment section, saying Soga isn't pretty, and having a not so good looking actor playing that role seems interesting. What is wrong with people? First of all: He is damn pretty and second: Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. I liked the first episode and I am looking forward to the next one.

12. The Sign (10/12 on Youtube - Thai)

This series is so stunning. Visually very pleasing and storywise interesting. Does the latest conflict bewteen Phaya and Tharn was solved too smooth, to easy? Yes. Do I hate the doctor? Yes. Am I rooting for Phaya and Tharn? For sure! But I want more of those mystical creatures!

Finished in January

Series

BL Drama no Shuen ni Narimashita: Crank Up Hen (3/3 on Gaga- Japanese)

I loved this one so much! This series gave me so much joy! I wasn't expecting this being so funny! It is hilarious, a little bit cringy, but for the right amount and not over the top. The characters are lovable and the managers are the best 😂 I want a spin-off please! This is a 10/10 for me

Twins (12/12 on Gaga - Thai)

It started strong for me, but after the main couple got together and there was this whole plot with Sprite not telling First the truth and Zee being a total asshole and this whole story, it lost me a little bit. I love a good enemies to lovers plot and til them became lovers, everything was fine. And they did reconsile really fast... it felt too rushed. But I still like the show. So I give this a 7 out of 10 for now.

Last Twilight (12/12 on Youtube - Thai)

I really wanted to love this til the very end. I really want to give this series a 10. I really only want to say nice things about it 😭 I loved everything about this series, he acting, the story, the main couple, the side couple, everything... until episode 11 happend. It just lost me. First I thought it was because of me, because I was a little bit cold hearted that day, but no. The feeling didn't go away that everything was to much... to over-emotional. And then episode 12 aired. And I yelled Fuck You at my screen. And every good emotion I had about this series was gone in a second. Perhaps I just pretend that the series ended with episode nine and Day going full blind and they managed their life together as a happy couple and their normal obstacles to overcome. 10 out of 10 for episodes 1-9 and 4 out of 10 for episode 10/11 and 1 out of 10 for episode 12.

Movie

Short Film

Dropped/On-Hold in January

7 Days before Valentine (1/12 WeTV)

I only watched the first episode and I couldn't stand Sunshine. After that I didn't come back. Perhaps I'll give it a try when it's finished airing. I don't know yet...

Looking forward to in January

Ossan's Love Returns (Jan 5th)

Time - Trailer (Jan 9th)

Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka (Jan 11th)

Beside You - Trailer

Love For Love's Sake

[nonotnolan]

No Not Nolan's Year in Review

Apparently this is a tradition now, so-- here are the stories of 2023, ranked by the number of likes.   It also helps keep me a bit grounded-- it feels rough when recent stories don't pick up stream, but the year as a whole has still gone quite well. It's also nice to see where all of my work falls, note-wise.  And if you're feeling very nostalgic (or horny?) here is a link to 2021, and here is a link to 2022.

I'm leaving the eBook announcement posts out of my year end review, but I'm calling it out for myself so when I revisit this in December 2024, future-me will remember to grab those. I'm not planning to abandon this account anytime soon-- and I'm certainly not shifting to Patreon or PayPal or what have you. I'm not prolific or popular enough for any of that. The vast majority of my work will continue to remain free and open. I just wanted to prove to myself that I'm good enough of a writer to publish something that I can be proud of-- I have, and I am.

Do authors love notes and reblogs? Yes. But they often enjoy hearing direct feedback even more-- I know I sure do. Consider "messaging authors directly" as a New Year's Resolution. (Please note that begging for someone to write you a story is not feedback. Don't be that guy.)

12) Green Grass - 122 notes - December 2023 Two guys learn first hand that not everyone values the same things. Concise and straightforward. 11) Soul Stones: Long Distance - 192 notes - April 2023 A romantic story of two men using the power of body swapping to close the gap on a long distance relationship. Cell phones have nothing on being there in person. 10) Colony Freedom - 197 notes - September 2023 A slime alien attempts to rebuild its colony from the ground up after its overseers have completely vanished. Can it manage to find enough hosts for its family, or will its cover be ruined? 9) Cuerpo Inc: After Hours Perk - 249 notes - July 2023 Ethan tries to pretend to be Jake for the weekend, but he wasn't counting on Jake's nosy neighbor getting But if he can't be Jake, at least he can still have fun in Jake's body. 8) Summer Break Dullahans - 252 notes - June 2023 Eric was not expecting to find Ben's detached head in the dorms. I'm a big fan of detachable limb stories, so I decided to be a part of the change I want to see. (I'm also very rusty at GIMP / photoshop, but it gets the job done.) 7) The Great Gym Shift - 275 notes - August 2023 A version of The Great Shift, but with a limited radius. A gym instructor is stuck babysitting a bunch of grown men who suddenly find themselves in very muscular bodies. 6) Just Another Sunday - 279 notes - October 2023 A Chronovac story with unaware recipients and a retroactive reality shift that ripples through reality. I'm really happy with this one, though I will freely admit that I lucked out on the photos for this one. 5) An Excellent Choice - 291 notes - February 2023 My Valentine's Day story, dedicated to my boyfriend. As such, the emphasis is on a merging transformation sequence. Two men take advantage of new technology to become a new sum of themselves. 4) Group Project - 331 notes - November 2023 Another work set in the Swapper universe, where college students take advantage of body swapping technology for success or pleasure. This piece features Aiden, who has to hire a nerd to take over his body if he wants to pass his classes. 3) Cursing Fate - 337 notes - January 2023 It's an alien possession story with a dark twist. If you're going to align yourself with an extraterrestrial force, make sure you have something valuable to offer them. 2) Soul Stones: The Easy Life - 412 notes - March 2023 Alfie finds himself in the body of Jordan, one of the most popular athletes on the football team-- but he's not the one who plotted for the body swap to happen. It's one of my favorites for the year, and it's a series I could see myself returning to if the inspiration is right. 1) Rookie Mistake - 482 notes - May 2023 A novice magic user tries out an Astral Projection spell without reading all of the instructions. Things do not play out in his favor.

Special Mentions-

Travis Cordin - 382 notes - February 2023 by @mergeman My boyfriend's Valentine's Day story that he dedicated to me. A raw and electric story about a magic user who gives the resident nerd too much magical power.

Stories I Love (Part 1) and Stories I Love (Part 2) I was not expecting so many people to react to these lists, but these have been getting reblogged like crazy. More importantly, a lot of authors have been reaching out to show thanks and start conversations, which I appreciate even more. Like I said-- I'm not always the best at participating in the community, so I really enjoy hearing from people.

Top 5 All Time-

5) Revenge, Reversed - 517 notes - August 2020 4) Overbearing - 538 notes - May 2022 3) Finals Week - 552 notes - May 2021 2) Gym Merchandise - 610 notes - September 2022 1) Soulmate Swap - 659 notes - August 2022

It's always fascinating to see which stories get a second life through reblogs and new discoveries. Soulmate Swap is one of my heavy hitters, but both Gym Merchandise and Overbearing have gained a lot of momentum this year. Finals Week is starting to slip, though I'm still quite fond of it. I'm quite surprised to see Revenge, Reversed on this list given its age, but it's another one of my personal favorites.