#but like. really. they should have hooked up at nyu

[jjsmaybank20]

jenna ortega x gn reader and the premise is that the reader has amnesia and cant remember that they and jenna had a relationship at all so basically jenna has to make the reader remember their relationship and at the end the reader remembers their relationshoip

I Remember

Jenna Ortega x GN!Reader

Summary: You get in a car accident and lose all of your memories of Jenna and your relationship. Can you get them back or will you never remember your fianceè again?

Warnings: Angst with happy ending, R was in a car accident, R has amnesia

Word Count: 1.7k

navigation  celebrities (romantic) masterlist

---

You woke up in a strange room, not knowing where you were. Now that you think about it, you couldn't really remember how you got there, or why you were hooked up to a bunch of machines. You tried to sit up, but it caused your entire body to ache.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar woman walks into the room with food in hand. When she sees that you are awake, she practically throws the food to the side and rushes to your bedside. "Oh my god, you're awake!"

You feel like you should remember who she is, but no matter how much you push yourself, nothing comes up. Seeing the apprehensive look on your face, the woman backs up slightly. "Are you okay, honey? It's just me." You scan her face one more time before finally asking, "I'm sorry, who are you?" She laughs before seeing the seriousness in your eyes.

"What do you mean? It's me, Jenna. Your fianceè." You shake your head, making Jenna look even more concerned. "I'm sorry, I really don't know who you are. I don't even know who I am." That makes Jenna begin to freak out, and she calls a nurse into the room.

A woman comes running into the room with a man in a white lab coat, who you quickly figure out is your doctor. Jenna quietly explains what is going on to him, and he looks at you clinically but also with some concern in his eyes. He approaches you slowly with his hands raised, as if you are a wild animal backed in a corner, and he begins to talk.

"Hey there, Y/N. My name is Dr. Kemp, and I am the man who is treating you. Right now, you are in NYU Langone in New York City. You were involved in a car accident and you sustained a head injury that put you in a coma for about a week. We're glad you're safe and awake. Do you remember anything?"

You begin to remember some things, mostly your name and where you are from. Suddenly, the moment that sent you to the hospital comes crashing back. It causes you to begin to panic, which makes the nurse and doctor spring into action. They calm you down and sit you up again, making sure you are okay.

You clear your throat, trying to formulate your words. "I remember some stuff. I can recall my childhood, most things about myself, and the accident. But I really can't remember her. I'm sorry." This makes Jenna choke out a sob, and you look at her with apologetic eyes. You know it isn't your fault, but you wish that you could force yourself to find the memories.

Jenna stands up quickly, muttering something about getting some air before practically running out of the hospital room. You sit there, wishing that you could make things better. If only you could remember.

---

"-And they don't remember anything about us. Our entire relationship is gone. We've been together since senior year. They're the love of my life, and they don't even remember me. What the fuck am I supposed to do?" Jenna cries into her phone. On the other end, Emma Myers tries to calm her down. "Jenna. Since when do you just give up? You have so many memories from over the years, so show them to them. Bring them back to us."

Jenna thinks about it before nodding with renewed determination. She quickly hangs up, apologizing and saying that there was something that she had to do. She then ran to her car, quickly driving off towards your house.

Meanwhile, you are sitting in your room, praying that Jenna comes back. You hoped that she wouldn't give up on you, and in the meantime, you would work on getting the flashes of your life back in focus. You sat there, trying to concentrate when Jenna came running back into the room with a posterboard and a box.

You watch her, confused, as she sets her stuff up on the table in front of you. When she pulls some photographs and loose items out of the box, you realize what she is about to do. She stands in front of you before clearing her throat and starting.

"My name is Jenna Ortega. I am an actress, and I am your fianceè. You are Y/N Y/L/N, and you are the love of my life. We met in our freshman year of high school, and we became best friends." She hands you a picture that you quickly realize is the two of you at a young age, standing together and grinning at the person behind the camera.

"I started acting when I was only nine, but I was on this show called Stuck in the Middle when I was twelve. I continued to play that character until I was fifteen, which intersected with when I met you. You were always my biggest cheerleader, and you supported me no matter what. I quickly developed a crush on you, but I could never tell you how I felt. I carried that flame for you all the way through sophomore and junior year, and well into senior year. You had started to flirt with me, more heavily than you normally would, towards the end of junior year, but you hadn't ever done anything. Senior year was when you finally asked me out."

You let that sit for a second before a memory comes back to you.

You were normally a calm, cool, and collected person. That was a part of your charm, and it was what made girls flock to you. You liked the attention, but only one girl could make you weak in the knees and make you lose your indifferent demeanor. Jenna fuckin' Ortega. Your best friend, and your crush since the end of sophomore year.

Until the end of junior year, you thought that there was no way in hell that she would ever like you back, but then you started to notice little things. She would stare at your lips while you were talking, she watched you all the time and when you caught her she would look away, blushing, and whenever you playfully flirted with her she got incredibly flustered.

You decided that you should shoot your shot, and all you could do was hope that this doesn't ruin your friendship.

You sit back for a second with a shocked expression on your face, before you smiled at her. Jenna looks at you, slightly confused, before she realizes what had just happened. "Do you remember?" You smile and nod, before frowning slightly.

"Not everything. I honestly can't remember asking you out. I just remember deciding to. But I remember you, Jenna." Her smile doesn't falter, as she is just happy that you remember her now. She continues on with her presentation, hoping to jog the rest of your memory of your relationship.

"I said yes, and we've been together ever since. We've had our ups and downs, but it's been amazing overall. Now, you proposed to me about two months ago, in our apartment bedroom. We haven't told the public about our relationship just yet, so you couldn't do it in a public space. It was super romantic, so of course I said yes. I was so happy that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me, and it almost got taken away from us because of your accident. I just need you to remember, because I can't lose you."

You smile tearily at her, before you are hit full force with the weight of your relationship.

Being with Jenna was the greatest thing that had ever happened to you. You realized that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her, and you quickly decided to propose. Not knowing what ring to get her, you called her sister and Emma to come and help you. They helped you choose the perfect ring to propose with, and you quickly ran home to get set up. You put flower petals on the ground, and you lit candles, and you got fancy champagne and food. When Jenna got home, she saw everything set up, and she was pretty confused.

She quickly walked into your room, where she found you pacing and muttering to yourself in a suit and tie. She cleared her throat, making you whip around and exclaim, "Oh shit, you're early." She gives you a confused look, before looking around and trying to put two and two together.

"Are you cheating on me?" She knows that her question is dumb, and that you would never, but she doesn't know what else to think. The laugh that you let out makes all of the panic in Jenna's body leave, before you step up to her and hold her face in your hands. "I'm not cheating on you, baby. I just..." You clear your throat before getting down on one knee.

Jenna's confusion grows until you pull out a ring and hold it out in front of you. She gasps and begins to tear up. You let out a wet laugh before saying, "I love you more than anything, Jenna. We've been best friends since freshman year, and that has never changed. Sometimes I like to tell people that the only thing that changed about our relationship was that we make out now." That makes Jenna let out a laugh, and you smile up at her. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So, Jenna Marie Ortega, will you marry me?"

Jenna nods and exclaims, "Yes! Of course!" You quickly jump up and pull her into a tight bear hug before sliding the ring onto her finger. You then kiss her passionately, making her sigh into your mouth. You were engaged to Jenna fuckin' Ortega.

You stop Jenna quickly before waving her over and pulling her into a kiss. When you pull back, Jenna is now on the hospital bed next to you. You rest your head on hers, and you whisper, "I remember. I remember it all."

You see her smile, and you know that finally, all is right in her and your world.

---

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[annatazarctaz]

no one wanted him around, but here he is . . . around.

♕ ( muse a / 26 / cis man / him/him) — did you see NOAH HAYES wandering around the island today? they kind of look like DYLAN O'BRIEN from certain angles? i heard around town that the SALES BRO is CHARISMATIC, and CONFIDENT, but also A DUMBASS, and SELFISH. people say that they remind them of A BLUE-STAINED TONGUE, A STRONG BASS THUMPING THROUGH YOUR CHEST, and THE SMELL DISGUSTINGLY EXPENSIVE COLOGNE, and BEJEWLED by TAYLOR SWIFT is definitely their theme song. they seem like a nice enough person, but we all know how hard it is to keep a pristine reputation in a small town. ( gia / 26 / est /  she/her ) 

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕡𝕠 !!

schmidt ( new girl ), pimento ( b99 ), donkey ( shrek ), lumière ( beauty and the beast ), flynn rider ( tangled ), sokka ( atla )

𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕘𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 !!

so first things first, i guess we should start back at the beginning in a galaxy far, far away––except not really that far away because noah was born and raised in a shitty little trailer on kings haven island.

his parents were hippies who fell in love for one summer in mexico à la what a girl wants with amanda bynes. 

*sighs wistfully* but summer couldn’t last forever. his dad went back to california to take over the family wine grove, and his mom went crawling back to live with in with her parents on the island she so desperately wanted to escape from. 

he talked to his dad occasionally growing up, but honestly he was happy with the expensive gifts he sent him for his birthday and christmas. 

mostly, he spent his time with his grandma. she is ,,, a nut, but so much fun. she’s a sculptor, and she always let noah throw wet clay at the walls of her studio. 

he spent his entire educational career fucking around. he skipped class all the time to hook up or dick around with his friends. he managed to hide a lot of it bc his grandma isn’t exactly the type of parental figure to check his grades, but she did take his car away when he almost didn’t graduate lmao. 

he played soccer through a comp team bc they don’t have a gpa requirement. he didn’t really take it seriously, but he was pretty good at the state level. 

he had to go to summer school basically every summer, but the teachers usually didn’t mind bc he brought donuts and pizza all the time. 

he started at nyu with a soccer scholarship ( literally the only reason he got in was bc of test scores, pretty white boy priveledge, and his athleticism ), but he showed up hungover to practice too many times, so they cut him sophomore year. thankfully, lil bby boy had his estranged, guilty dad to pay his tuition. 

he graduated–barely, but he did it-and got a gig selling software, so he travels a lot and works from home.

sometimes he’s like maybe i should do something with my life and make my grandma proud, but mostly he’s like...or i can just keep visiting her and doing absolutely nothing with my life. 

𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪 !!

he’s uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhh a big ho because hard work ?? relationships ?? rejection ?? we don’t know her here in this house.

a chronic flirt. hate him.  

but !! he’s v upfront about his intentions, or actually i guess his lack of intentions, bc his grandma would kick his ass if he played a girl just to get in her pants.

he’s really chill. it takes a lot to get under his skin bc he doesn’t give a shit about literally anything. it’s his biggest problem, honestly. 

his life motto is you can’t fail if you don’t try lmao. the apathy is strong in this one. 

he is always down to get into shenanigans of any kind, especially during work hours. 

𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 !!

best friends: ( m, f, nb ), childhood friends: ( m, f, nb ), messy ex: ( f, nb ), fwb: ( f, nb), casual hookup ( f, nb), enemies: ( m, f, nb )

hmu OR like this and get ready to catch these loving hands.

[terrainofheartfelt]

why is s3 dair so good??? honestly, what is it about them (both as individual characters and relationship-wise) that makes it so... good, for lack of a better word?

it's the Narrative Foils, babe!

no, but really, this plot had EVERYTHING: there's first the setup that they're both at nyu even though they didn't want to be - it's where the ended up after their respective Yale dreams fell through.

then, there's the role reversal of Blair, who's always used to being on top, sure she was caught up in power struggles at Constance but there people still cared who she was, and now, nobody does. she's just another freshman. and Dan, who was used to a certain invisible kind of existence, is noticed on his very first day for being a Writer - and a good one! and he makes friends who actually like him as a person! it's him with the social capital now, and the first thing he spends it on is to help out Blair. (insane. they are insane. they should kiss.)

🪑 aside, this is also the first time in the show ever that Dan is unattached narratively to Serena. I mean, they're friends and on the verge of being family, but they'd been given real romantic closure in s2, so they start off the college arc truly as just friends, which means for the first time in the show, Dan's romantic arc prospects are openended, which in my unexpert opinion, pours a little extra sauce on his loaded interactions with Blair.

also he and Blair's roommate fuck and Blair sees him shirtless in his post woodchuck todd glow up and idk how a girl doesn't have strong feelings about that ya feel me?

AND (I think Nads has touched on this before?) Constance/St. Jude's was pretty...partitioned, I guess you could say, so with the exception of The Essay Contest, I don't think Blair and Dan were put in the position for any competition, but at a fully coed school? And with their similar interests they were bound to end up in classes together, and I swear it is such a CRIME that we didn't get any classroom hijinks with these ding-dongs. competing for top grades and rankings, fighting over a TA position, checking out all the material in the library on a topic to sabotage the other's research, it could have fed us Damien Darko vibes a season and a half earlier and I am BITTER.

I think ultimately it's how the beginning of college presented a twist on their previously perceived social standings (and understandings of each other), and that the sheer potential of starting over in a new place opened up windows of story that didn't/couldn't exist in the high school ecosystem. was it ultimately underexplored and underutilized? absolutely, but at least we have that s3 dair FWB fic on ao3...

[dameronology]

when we were young (peter parker)

summary: you haven't seen peter parker for years. a chance meeting on a roof-top reminds you of your younger days.

warnings: angst, swearing

this is nwh spoiler free!! i haven't seen the film yet (2 days to go baybee) so no need to worry about that. also, there's a timeskip here so pete is aged up to his mid-20s. enjoy <3

- jazz xx

There was a picture of you and Peter Parker collecting dust in a box in your attic somewhere.

It had been taken on the day you graduated from Midtown High. He had a toothy grin, auburn eyes glinting in the bright auburn sun. Your smile was just as wide, but your eyes were a little more unforgiving. On the surface, the two of you looked like a happy high-school couple. What the photo hadn't captured was weeks of arguing; debates about college and what long distance would do to your relationship; long, gruelling fights about Peter's vigilante dreams and whether he would still have room for you in his life should he become the next Tony Stark. It was hard to know at a young age when someone was right for you, but man. You could have sworn Peter was the one. From the day you met him in freshman year, you just knew. That's why you were having such mature fights, even at your young age.

He was an integral part of your past and even more important part of your present - not to mention an intricate part of your future. You'd made plans as young as sophomore year, after all. He'd go to NYU and major in biomechanics and you'd go to London to study at your respective dream school.

Then Spiderman happened, and the Avengers, and suddenly you were barely seeing Peter when you lived blocks away from each other, let alone across the fucking world. Conversations about you future turned into arguments about his wellbeing, and before you knew it, your life had become a blur of missed dates waiting up for his I'm okay texts.

By graduation, you were barley holding it together.

By your first Christmas at college, you'd broken up.

Life went on, as it always does. You got your degree in London and chose to stay in England, building your career up from the bottom. You'd see Spiderman in the news and smile to yourself - he was still alive and kicking. Still doing exactly what he wanted to do.

You came to find that people didn't lie when they said that you'd always remember your first love. As you hit your twenties, your dating life became a blur of Tinder hook-ups and awkward dinners with mutual friends. There were a few relationships here and there but nothing ever compared to the connection you'd had with Peter. It was silly, really. To desperately search for the same things you'd felt when you were fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. You were a kid - a naive, stupid kid. Of course you were going to have grandiose dreams of a happy ever after with your childhood sweetheart. Who didn't?

One rainy Monday, you were sat in your office; the sky was grey - almost as grey as the morning news. The British government was being useless about something again, so you naturally paid no mind to it. That was hardly news anymore.

Your attention picked up when a familiar flash of blue-and-red appeared on the screen. It was just Spiderman...Spidermanning. Saving lives as usual.

You gave the tiny vigilante on the screen a little nod, before turning your eyes back to your computer screen. You switched to your Facebook tab when you heard it beep (not before checking your boss wasn't behind you).

You've been invited to an event - Midtown High School 5 year reunion.

Your brow furrowed - had it really been five years? Half a decade? It felt both longer and shorter than that.

You hadn't been back to New York in a while; it was your home, and you missed it. There had been a few whispers of head office openings at your company HQ in Manhattan and you'd been meaning to go and check them out. The timing was almost perfect.

Two days later, you emptied your savings account and booked a return flight to JFK. You'd see your parents on the Thursday that you arrived, go for your job interview at the HQ on Friday and on Saturday, you'd go to your reunion. You were feeling a nervous excitement - eager to see the friends you missed, but anxious to see the one person you longed for.

Saturday rolled by in a blur, and before you knew it, you were dressing yourself up and walking back into the halls of Midtown High. It hadn't changed that much in five years, if at all.

Every where you looked, you were reminded of your old relationship- the lockers side by side that had been your meeting place, the class photo where Peter had been holding your hand, the unisex bathroom where you'd spent way too many free periods together. It wasn't just a high-school; it was a time-capsule for one of the happiest times of your life. For a feeling you would never get back.

"You haven't aged a day."

"Ned!"

He was the first person you saw upon entering the decked-out gym and for that, you were grateful. Ned was smiling as always, barely looking a day over eighteen - even though he was an adult now, with his own successful IT company and an adorable one-year-old.

"Hey, stranger," you greeted him with a grin, pulling him into a tight hug. "God, you still look the same as the day you did when we graduated from this hell-hole."

"So do you! I mean...your hair's changed, but that's about it. And did you get taller?"

"I don't think so," you smiled. "Maybe you just got shorter."

"Oh my god, can that happen?"

"Generally speaking, no."

The sound of a third voice made you both turn your heads.

Your heart almost dropped when you saw Peter Parker. Not Spider-Man - it was Peter.

His hair was longer now, and a little more curly. He no longer dressed like a character from The Big Bang Theory - rather, he was wearing a suit. It fit him nicely (so nicely, that you couldn't not notice he'd been working out). He looked the same...but different.

"I'm going to go and refill my drink," Ned announced. Bastard.

You awkwardly waved Ned off, before turning back to your ex-boyfriend.

"Hey, Pete," you gave him a small smile.

"Hey," he grinned. "It's been what...five years now?"

Four years, nine months, and eleven days.

"Yeah, something like that."

"When did I last see you? It must have been Christmas of our first year at college."

December 12th, 2016. I'd come home for Christmas and we were supposed to be celebrating our four year anniversary. You ditched me for a Spiderman thing and I broke up with you instead.

"I think so!" you lied.

"You look amazing, by the way," he said. "London looks good on you."

"Thanks," you smiled - a gesture which he returned.

His brown eyes still creased the same way they used to - the same way they did in that graduation photo. They were a little more tired now, and his grin was more of a smile. He had stubble now too. Probably still couldn't grow a beard, though.

"I've been meaning to reach out," Peter admitted. "I went to Coney Island the other day and it made me think of you."

Coney Island. That's where you'd been for your first date. You were both fourteen years old - awkward freshman with awkward crushes on one another. Peter ate too much cotton candy and you overdosed on corndogs. There was a photo of that somewhere that you'd taken on your iPhone 4s.

"Man, that was a time," you grinned.

"I still can't eat cotton candy," he laughed. "I still think of you whenever I see corndogs."

"I think of you whenever I hear that one Train song," you shot back.

"Oh man - Drops of Jupiter," he recalled. "I haven't heard that one in years."

"It's still on some of my playlists," you admitted. "I guess it'll always have a special place in my heart."

Just like you.

"How long are you in town for?"

"Just til Monday," you replied. "I gotta get back for work."

"Of course," his face fell slightly. "You really made it big time, huh? You've done all the things you said you would."

"I guess I did."

Except for one thing - keep him.

Your head sometimes wondered off to an alternate reality - one where you hadn't broken up. Sometimes, Peter wasn't Spiderman so he'd come with you to London. Other times, he was, and you'd stay in New York and live out your Lois Lane/Clark Kent dreams.

The latter was your favourite. You had visions of him and you in a Brooklyn Brownstone - you would work at the New York alternative to your job in London, and Peter would be at Stark Industries. You'd meet on the subway after work - as you always had in high school - and then have dinner together. And every night when he came home, you'd sway in the kitchen, Drops of Jupiter playing quietly in the background. Peter would protect you from the bad guys, and you'd be his unsung hero with your constant support. His moral pillar when things became too much.

Nope. Now you weren't even Facebook friends.

"What about you?" you asked. "What are you up to these days?"

"I'm head of biomechanics at Stark Industries," Peter replied. "And I still have my night job."

"Looks like you got everything you wanted to as well," you smiled.

He gave you a nod, brain wondering off to his alternate timeline. It was safe to say it shared the same sentiment as yours.

"It's really good to see you," Peter said. "I mean that."

"Yeah, you as well-"

- you were cut off by his phone ringing. He pulled it from his pocket and let out a groan.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured. "Duty calls. I really wish we could catch up more."

You forced a smile. "Hey, it's fine."

Just like old times.

--

Later that night, after hours of drinking with M.J and Ned, you found yourself perched on the roof of your parents' apartment building.

You didn't know what possessed you to go up there. Even less what possessed you to dig out the Midtown Class of '16 hoodie that had once belonged to Peter.

Today's trip down memory lane had been bumpy. Catching up with old friends was great but being reminded of what you'd lost was bittersweet. It had become astoundingly clear that you hadn't quite let go of Peter. He still had a piece of your heart lying around, probably somewhere in one of his many, many missing backpacks. That sucked for you, because it meant you would never get it back. Maybe you didn't want it back.

Being back had also reaffirmed to you that returning to New York was the best decision for you - which was good, because you'd got a call an hour ago saying your transfer had been accepted. London was great, but everything you knew was back here. You didn't want your revived friendships with your high school friends to rely on you travelling across the world. This was home.

"What were we talking about earlier?"

You jumped at the sound of a familiar voice, turning around to see Peter.

"Hey, Spiderman," you smiled. "I think you were saying how good it was to see me."

Peter walked towards you, tugging off the mask. It brought you back to the days when you'd meet on this very roof-top in your senior year. You'd spend hours pondering on your fear of the future. Things hadn't been so scary after all.

"I'm sorry I had to leave," he said. Peter took a seat beside you, legs dangling off the edge of the roof. "I really was enjoying our conversation."

"How did you know I'd be here?"

"I didn't," he admitted. "I sometimes come here to think."

"Wow," you murmured. "Some things never change."

His eyes met yours and he smiled. "They really don't."

"I said earlier than I think about you when I hear that Train song," you began. "That was a lie. I mean...I do think of you when I hear it, but not just when I hear it. I think about what could have been, you know?"

"Is that why you're wearing my old hoodie?"

You let out a groan.

"Hey, I'm just teasing," Peter grinned. "I still have a pair of your earrings that you left in my bedroom when we were seventeen. I've moved like five times since and they've just come with me."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I think some part of me hoped that if I kept them, you would come back for them."

"I am coming back," you said. "To New York, I mean."

His eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. It just felt like the right time," you replied. "I've missed New York-"

"- I've missed you," Peter cut you off. "I know it's been half a decade but I always wonder what could have been."

"Me too," you smiled. "Honestly, I thought you'd forgotten about me."

"Forgotten?" his eyebrows shot up. "I've been trying to fall out of love with you for five years. I kept telling myself that the version of you I loved didn't exist, and that you'd grown up, but then I saw you today and...I think I love every version of you. Wait, that was so cheesy-"

"- you haven't changed one bit, Peter Parker," you cut him off with a grin.

You placed a hand on the back of his head, fingers tangling in with the soft curls at the nape of his neck. He gave you another smile and you leant in. Your lips met halfway, a warm feeling of familiarity soaring through your body. It felt like coming home after the worst trip of your life; like finally working out the name of a song that you'd had stuck in your head for years.

Relief. A beautiful simplicity that hadn't existed since you were a naive teenager.

"I never stopped loving you either," you confessed, resting your forehead against his.

"I guess we should start making up for lost time."

[libraryofloveletters]

Love Delivered To Your Doorstep

Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of cheating, break ups and killing/serial killers. (<in a joking context) 

Category: fluff for the most part. 

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: Doesn’t follow canon, it has a little of buck begins in there but it doesn't follow a strict timeline. It also is written like Buck moves to LA and has his apartment from the moment he moves there while trying to figure out what he wants to do. 

-----

Texting and calling was never your choice method of communication. 

Letters had always been more of your thing. 

Truthfully, they hadn't been your thing until your boyfriend moved halfway across the country for university. The two of you met in high school, freshman year and became inseparable since. Growing together and promising to always love each other no matter what -you always knew that couldn't be true but it never stopped you from telling him. 

When he told you that he was going to be applying to UCLA during your senior year of high school, it came as a bit of a shock to you. The plan was always going to college together, get engaged when you were done school and then married with a house by 30. 

You held out the hope of that being possible until the day he showed you his acceptance letter. 

You were incredibly proud of him but it was real now, he was leaving. 

You watched him pack up his entire life and uproot himself from New York and moved across the country. You sent the first letter to him at what was supposed to be his apartment. 

September 30th.

‘Hi baby! 

Just writing to see how you're settling in. How’s UCLA ? Have you gotten a chance to go around and get to see the place ? I know you’re there for school but you've got to live a little too. Hope your neighbours are sweet, your mom told me it’s a pretty nice place and it’s got a good view, sounds like your type of place. Hopefully I can come visit you soon. 

I started my classes last week. My chem professor is a pain in my ass already, he expects us to read an entire textbook in a week - well not exactly an entire textbook but you get the point. My biology professor is a sweetheart, she showed us pictures of her kids and talked about them for an hour, I didn't realize being a mother was so interesting but she was cool. Also showed us a video of an appendectomy that one of her colleagues performed last week. How are your classes and professors ? 

Did I mention I bumped into Sam at the grocery store ? Yeah, he’s back and he’s not fine to tell you the truth. He seemed like he was ready to snap but that might just be my judgment. He said to tell you hello if I spoke to you so- hello :) 

I’m going to sign off here, I know this one is short but I don’t have much to update you on. Life’s been pretty dull without you. Hope you’re having fun out there, soaking up the sun for me.

Write me back soon, I love you. 

Yours always, y/n’

You mailed the letter the next day, a few weeks had passed before you received a letter back. Except this letter had a different sender name but the same address.

October 22nd. 

‘Hi y/n,

This isn't your boyfriend. (I'm assuming that’s who you're writing too based on the context of the letter) I’m Evan, I live in the apartment you thought belonged to your boyfriend or maybe you got the address wrong, I’m not sure.  I know you were waiting for an update on all these exciting things that are happening at UCLA. I do not go to UCLA nor can I update you in anything exciting that’s happening there, sorry.

Anyways, the reason I'm writing you back is because I figured you’d want to know that this isn't the correct address and the person you were looking for isn't here before you send another letter and get no response. I was debating if I should have even written you back, but here I am, writing you back. 

Your professor for chem seems like an ass to be honest (hope that’s not rude) and your biology professor sounds great, is she hot by the way ? because bonus points for that. Anyways, are you studying medicine ? I'm guessing yes because of the classes you're taking. I'm thinking of signing up to become a first responder but I haven’t decided yet on what yet or if I'm actually going to do it. Anyways, good luck on your classes and the shitty chem professor. 

Hope you find your boyfriend (again, assuming) 

Peace out, 

Evan.’

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. How could the letter you sent to your boyfriend’s apartment belong to someone else ? Why was there someone else living in his apartment ? You dug through your apartment, searching for the paper he left you with the address, you finally found it buried in a drawer.

The address on the paper was identical to the one that Evan sent to you and to the one you sent prior to that. Either your boyfriend was lying or you were losing your mind. 

November 4th. 

‘Dear Evan, 

I'm sorry that I sent the first letter to you and as you guessed, I was looking for my boyfriend who seems to be a bit MIA right now. His mother says that’s the right address and the place that she helped him move into. So I'm not really sure what’s happening there. Anyways, sorry for unloading all of that on you. 

To answer your question, yes, I am studying medicine and no, she isn't hot. My bio professor is a 65 year old woman who loves her college aged kids very much. If that’s your definition of hot, then yes - she's got milf status

Have you decided yet if you’re going to sign up to be a first responder ? That’d be pretty cool. Imagine all the girls swoon over you and how many girls you’d pick up just for being a paramedic or a firefighter. 

Wait, are you into girls ? Or guys ? You know, whoever you're into, just imagine how many of them you’d pick up. 

Also, you’re not a murderer or anything right ? because I rather not answer questions when the police come asking about why I've been sending letters to a serial killer. 

Anyways, signing off for now. 

Yours always, y/n. 

ps. if you do end up bumping into or meeting a guy that looks like my boyfriend, (tall, brown hair, brown eyes. he’s got a pierced ear and a little butterfly tattoo by his collarbone- though not sure why or how you'd see his collarbone) let me know or tell him that his girlfriend is looking for him.

Double ps, what size shirt do you wear ?’

Buck laughed at your absurd question. A person he didn’t even know was asking what size shirt he wore. The letter was set on the coffee table with the rest of the mail, getting buried under all of the stuff he had on there. It was almost the end of December when he realized that he hadn't written you back yet. 

December 21st. 

‘Hey y/n, 

Sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. Things have been hectic over here. I’ve been doing some ‘soul-searching’ - I guess you could call it that and honestly, I don’t think if this whole first responders thing is for me. 

I tried out bartending or well, the technical term is mixologist and I’m liking it so far, I think i’m going to stick with it for now. 

How have you been ? How’s school ? Surely, you’re on break for the holidays right about now or at least when you get this letter. I hope that you're spending the break doing something fun. 

I’m not going to make this very long, I’m sure you’ve been busy with whatever you’re doing right now. 

Also, I’ve been meaning to ask. Have you located the mysteriously disappearing boyfriend yet ? I haven't seen anyone that fit your description. 

well, that’s not true- I did and just to be sure I asked to see his collarbone, he looked at me like I was a mad man so I guess it wasn't him ? 

Anyways, I hope you have a good holiday and you're probably gonna get this sometime between holidays, so merry belated (?) Christmas and happy New Years y/n. 

Peace out, 

Evan. 

ps. medium or large, depending on what it is. Hopefully that answers your question weirdo.’

January 13th. 

The morning of the 13th, he went down to check his mail. A box was there with his name on it, the return address was one he had only seen on an envelope. The box returned upstairs with him, setting it on the counter before opening it. 

Upon opening it, there was a letter and some colourful tissue paper with what seemed like a sweater under it. He opened the letter first.

‘Dear Evan, 

Happy New Years! How was your holiday going ? Did you do anything fun ? 

I’ve been good and school is good too, I'm almost done my first year, isn't that crazy ? Just a few more months to go. 

How’s your job as mr. mixologist going ? I'm sure you’ve met some wild people and heard some interesting stories. 

As for the boyfriend situation, that's over. I’m not surprised to tell you the truth but it still kinda sucks. Anyways, so what happened was that his older brother had come home from college last year and brought a friend with him. She went to the same school as his brother but transferred to UCLA- anyways long story short, they hooked up while he and I were still together and he moved in with her after his mom helped him move into the apartment I thought he had. 

But! I’m single and chilling now so it’s all good. (bonus, she cheated on him and left him so yeah) 

I got you a little something for Christmas and as a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present. I was in the gift shop and it made me think of you. Do you celebrate Christmas? I forgot to check oops. If you don't, count it as a just a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present? 

I got a large because I wasn't sure if it would fit. I hope you like it. That’s all for now.

Yours always, y/n.’

He unwrapped the tissue paper to see a blue sweater with the letters NYU on it. He smiled, he assumed that’s where you went. It was sweet that you took the time to get him something, even if it was a by the way thing. Not a lot of people would send something to a person they had been talking to via letters and halfway across the country. 

February 12th. 

2 days before Valentine's Day, your least favourite holiday of the year. You weren't looking forward to watching all your friends going on with their boyfriends and girlfriends. The mail had arrived while you were out, you picked it up and headed in. There were two envelopes with your name on it,  a plain white one and a red one. The red envelope was more squared than rectangular, you assumed it was a card- both had the same sender name. 

‘Hey y/n!

Thank you for the sweater, it was nice of you to think of me and get me something. I didn’t know we were doing gifts or I would have sent you something as well and yes, I do celebrate Christmas. 

My job as ‘mr. mixologist’ was going well until I quit. It just didn’t feel like the right fit for me you know ? I'm going to see what else is out there for me. 

Sorry to hear about your boyfriend, he seems like a douche. Who would cheat on you ? You seem great I mean at least you are on paper (did you get my joke, it’s hard to tell) 

Also, remember how I was thinking I might actually give that first responder thing a try? Imagine me as a firefighter, that’s pretty cool right ? 

So I kinda did a thing and signed up and then I got in. I started two weeks ago and it was kicking my ass at first but I've gotten a hang of it and things are going pretty well. There's three other Evans in my class so everyone calls me Buck-I kind of like it. 

The other envelope, hopefully you opened this one first, is a little something for you for valentines. Hope you like it. 

Peace out, 

Buck’ 

The red envelope was on your lap, you pulled the edges carefully not wanting to rip it. Inside was a plain white card with bright red letters that made you laugh. The cover read ‘I’m not sick of you yet!” Opening the card, a $20 fell onto your lap. There was a little message inside that went along with the cash. 

‘Since we aren't together and can’t spend valentines together, there’s some cash to get yourself a box of chocolates and a teddy bear. Happy Valentines Day y/n

Love, Buck.’ 

You smile, this was the first time that Buck had signed with ‘love, buck’ it had always been ‘peace out, buck.’ You tucked the card into the drawer, one you didn’t use very often so you knew it’d be safe there. 

*4 years later*

A few weeks had passed since Buck had last heard from y/n. His last letter to her was at the end of June, telling her all about the day he had spent at Hen and Karen’s. He always described every little detail so vividly that it made her feel like she was there with him- but it was now July, end of actually and moving into August. 

4 years had blown like nothing.

It felt like just yesterday he got the first letter in the mail. 4 years and they still had no idea what each other looked like but they knew every intricate and intimate detail about each other, their lives and the people in it. 

Y/n and Buck had grown rather close over the last few months- more than they already were. Y/n just went through a pretty shitty break up and Buck wasn't exactly big on relationships as of right now. 

He had just gotten home from work, his keys set on the counter when he realized that he forgot to check his mail. Stepping back out, there was a woman in the hallway and boxes scattered across her, leading into the apartment down the hall. 

She must be his new neighbour.

He wanted to go over and introduce himself but she was busy telling the movers where to set her couch so he decided that he would check the mail and then introduce himself when he returned so he did just that. 

Except, she was still busy. 

She leaned against the wall, watching the movers move what looked like a coffee table. She glanced up to see Buck walking by, she smiled and he returned the smile. 

Buck reaches his apartment, the mail in hand and steps in. He sorts through the pile, bills, ads, coupons and no letter from y/n. 

---

Your new apartment was a mess. You decided it was time for a change. You applied to a few hospitals after your break up and the one in LA hired you. So you dropped everything and moved- no family, no ties. 

A fresh start. 

It was a nice neighbourhood and the building was quiet. The neighbours you met were pleasant and welcoming. When you were having the furniture moved in, there was a blonde man who smiled at you and you assumed he lived in the unit down the hall because that’s where he stepped into. 

It was almost 11pm when you finally sat down. You had been on your feet all day and just wanted to eat something. The box with the dishes was beside the couch, you pulled the tape off and opened it. There was an envelope sitting on top of the stack of plates. 

Buck’s last letter to you. 

You must have tossed it into the boxes while packing and you forgot to write him back. Tumbling through the boxes, you find a sheet of paper and a pen from your bag. Sitting on the floor, the paper resting on an unopened box, you begin writing. 

‘Dear Buck, 

I’m sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. I quit my job, and uprooted my entire life. The break up sucked major ass as you know, so I decided it was time for a change. 

Guess where I decided to go ? 

Did you guess yet? 

No, not Canada, why would you guess Canada ? 

LA! 

Yeah, isn't that crazy that I ended up here of all places? Maybe we could get together one day (if you haven’t turned into a crazy serial killer that is.) 

Anyways, that’s why I've taken so long to write. I was packing when I got your letter and I tossed it in a box and just found it again. Anyways, I hope you’ve been good, how have things been at the station ? 

I promise I'll write again with more details soon, I just have to get settled in first. 

Yours always, y/n.’ 

Folding the paper, you slipped into an envelope. The address being scribbled into the back of the envelope. You were about to seal it when the building number caught your eye. 

It was the same number as the place you moved into. The same address, the building number, the same floor. 

The unit number was the only difference. 

There was no way you moved into the building that Buck lived in. 

You knew the address felt familiar when you saw the listing but you didn’t think anything of it nor did it occur to you that you knew the address. 

Stepping out of your apartment, looking at the number on the room and back down at the envelope in your hand. Buck’s apartment was down the hall. 

Part of you just wanted to mail it and keep things as it was but another part of you wanted to meet him, to see what he was really like in person. So there you were walking down the hallway at a quarter past 11 in the dead of the night to meet a man you had been sending letters to for the last 4 years. 

The end of the hallway, you stared at the black wooden door in front of you. Your brain weighing the options right now: he’s a sweetheart and welcoming and makes you feel comfortable or he’s a weird guy who’s been lying to you this whole time and you told him everything about you and now he’s going to kill you. 

Before you could register what you were doing, you knocked on the door. 

Glancing down at yourself, you were wearing a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt from high school that you found in a drawer while packing. Not an ideal outfit, maybe he’s sleeping and you can go home and change- the door opened, a man wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt stood there. He looked like he had just woken up. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” 

“It's alright,” he yawned, his hand covering his mouth as he blinked away a few tears. “What can I do for you ?” he leaned against the door. 

“Um, this is an odd question-” you shifted, glancing down at the envelope in your hand. “Are you Buck ?” 

“I am, who are you ?” 

“Y/n.” 

You had never seen a man wake up that fast, he seemed surprised, confused and concerned all in one. “How- uh, are you- What ?” he mumbled. 

“I found your letter in the box after I moved, I moved into the apartment down the hall” you point to your left, Buck sticks his head out of the doorway and looks at the door you were pointing to. You were the woman in the hallway that he saw earlier, he knew you looked familiar. 

“I just wrote your letter and I noticed that the addresses were the same, just a different unit number so I decided to come check. Sorry if I bothered you, we can talk another day- it’s late and you probably have work” “Would you like to come in?” he opens the door a bit more, looking to you for an answer. 

“Um, okay sure.” stepping in, you can’t help but glance around. The apartment was similar to yours, the layout was a bit different though. “Can I get you something to drink ? Coffee, water ? A beer ?” he rounded the kitchen counter, you took a seat on one of the chairs by the counter. 

“Water’s fine, thanks” 

He reached for a bottle from the fridge, sliding it over to you. You gave him a smile, he leaned against the counter and was now looking- studying you. 

“I know we’ve talked to each other for 4 years but this is kinda strange” you chuckled awkwardly, Buck can't help but smile. 

“Yeah, it is, isn't it? but can I ask why you moved to LA?” 

“Well all of that was in the letter” you slide the envelope across the counter and he picks it up, opening it. Giving him a few moments to read, you watch his expression like you were hoping for some insight as to how he was feeling or what he was thinking. He let out a laugh, “how’d you know I'd guess Canada ?” you smiled at him, a small wave of relief washing over you for some reason. “Lucky guess I suppose” 

“Do you-” “What are-” the sentences cutting each other off, the two of you awkwardly smiling at each other. “You first” looking at him, he hums. 

“Do you have work tomorrow or are you busy ?” His eyes meet yours, you found yourself leaning forwards towards the counter- towards him. He made you feel comfortable, you’d go as far as to say safe, in a way you’ve never felt before. 

“No, I don't start until the 21st. Why ?” 

“I was thinking - if you're not busy and if you want to, of course. Maybe I could take you out for breakfast and I could show you around ? Or lunch or dinner ? Whatever works for you actually” he rambles, fiddling with his fingers to avoid eye contact. 

A small laugh slips past your lips causing him to look up, his brows furrowed as he studies your face, looking for an answer. 

“Breakfast sounds good, what time should I be ready for ?” 

“Uh, is 10 okay ?” he asks, you nod. “I’ll be ready for 10 then.” 

“Okay, I'll pick you up” he smiles. 

“Buck, we live in the same building.” 

“Oh right,” he chuckles, “well I'll be by yours at 10 then” the two of you smiling at each other. 

“Okay.” 

----

taglist: @advicefromnixxxx @dralexreid @keenmarvellover @beth-winchester21 @fernandaweasley2 @yikesyikesyikes95 @hotchsdarling @duhbar1975 @hailsstormthings @averyhotchner  @captainxholmes @venusrosepetal @luke-alvez​ @looney-literature @caitsymichelle13​ @artemishunter18​ @anxiousblanketqueen​

[karofsky]

actually I was thinking last night how like... damn they could have set up Kurtofsky SO EASILY in S4. Just a couple of episodes.

replace Blaine in the Xmas episode plot with Dave-- Burt ran into him and Paul on the plane because they are visiting family, and they all got talking + Kurt got brought up. Dave mentions how he missed the short amount of time they had together over the spring and summer, so Burt is like, actually this works because my son has been lonely and in a rut and this kid is cool (now) and I think he'd like to have a friend

Kurtofsky bonded in the episode (the ice skating... kill me) and after walking Kurt home there is a small but not-so-subtle spark between them that goes unmentioned

this could have also helped the transition into things with Adam; Kurt realizes he's ready to move on and enjoy his life again, and with that comes friends + dating so he dips his toes back in

Kurt still goes to the Wemma wedding alone, still has his car sesh with Blaine because, yanno, as much as he is ready to move on he's not about to deny some fun (even if he's unaware of Blaine's... motives? Ideas about it? Idk what to call it, but definitely still that canon dynamic of Kurt being in a good place and Blaine still wanting to get back with him)

however!! Dave is also there!! he and Santana reconnected and she took him as her plus one. and what's also there?? the same spark from Christmas

Dave owes Kurt a dance, as he mentions later in the episode when he offers, and they get that! (as Blaine inevitably looks on, upset; HOWEVER, seeing Kurt in the FLESH being happy and clearly a bit flirty with someone else? he could get that "ah" moment where things start to settle for him and he can begin to move on, even if it's not reeeeally what he wants, but it helps)

Kurtofsky fucks, obviously. Then they have a post-hanky-panky talk that is STILL flirty, and they talk about how they hope they run into each other again sometime, and that if the other is ever in town they should make plans. Both officially DTF whenever and wherever, and are as casual as can be

Dave doesn't have to pop up again really. He could come back later in the season, when Kurt's back in Lima. They run into each other, and Dave is a welcome, supportive, quiet help for his stress with his family. No funny business, just genuinely being a friend

Obviously after everything's chill and Kurt's still in town they hook up again

And then they could have just??? Developed it into season 5? Like Dave's still around early on bc Kurt's still in Lima for 5x01. Maybe they have a conversation and Dave offhandedly mentions how he was considering transferring to a university out there. Blam still move out there too, so come mid-season, maybe the NY crew includes Dave as well! He's living with Elliott who Kurt introduced him to when Dave transferred to NYU!

Maybe there's a slow burn, maybe there's a sudden reveal with Kurt monologuing and rolling over in bed towards Dave. Who knows. EITHER WAY season 4 really fucked up. I deserved all of this. I did my time.

[buckysdior]

(not so) hot girl semester || a college!bucky au [1/?]

chapter summary: reader meets bucky at a college party that they abandon for a night through lower manhattan

wordcount: 873 

warnings: mentions of alcohol, implied smut, reader makes impulsive decisions

sidnote: ahhh okay, this sets up a mini-series i have decided to embark on. also this is my first fic, please b gentle with me

Relationships were not a foreign concept to you. In fact, you’ve spent more of your college career cuffed than not. A busty Russian Studies major from Barnard, a nerdy Mech-E major from Queens, partners that came and went for justified reasons. (She was moving to Russia to teach, He could never seem to sort out his priorities.) The revolving door of relationships in your life was so time consuming it was surprising you could make time for it on top of school and non-academic obligations.

But after a wasted few months on a self-proclaimed empath from Brooklyn, you decided it was time to throw in the towel. Conveniently, your circle of friends happened to exit any relationships that stood around the same time. This led to the group of you drunkenly declaring a hot girl semester—no partners for the semester, only self-development and achieving academic goals. This wasn’t to say hook-ups were off the table, but mutually all of you were not seeking any more monogamous relationships. A few weeks following this your friends from a CUNY promised you a rager at a place called ‘Chinatown Basement’. They recounted wild stories from the countless times they’ve attended parties there, referring to it as Chinatown Basement so much that you thought that was the name of the venue.

Turns out it was just a literal basement in Chinatown, the landlord renting it out to college students to throw parties. So there you stood in this basement, body to body, thinking of good excuses to leave only an hour in when in swooped him. Tall, buff, and under the dark of the party you could just barely spot his manbun and the gentle blue eyes that met yours. Your friends did say hook-ups were still on the table. He made small talk with you about how there wasn’t enough alcohol and too many bodies and how both of you got dragged along as semi-unwilling participants. You introduce yourself and he goes, “James Buchanan Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky.”

“So should I call you James or Bucky?”

“You can call me whatever you want, sweetheart,” he replies with a wink.

You laugh and invite him outside for air and a joint. The contrast of the February cold and the sticky heat of the building unit left you shivering more than usual in your weather-inappropriate outfit. Bucky drapes his jacket on you as you pass the joint back and forth and you suddenly blurt, “Do you wanna go on a walk?”

Down the streets of Chinatown you two went, even after the joint comes to finish. He tells you he’s an English major at NYU and he’s originally from Brooklyn. You tell him you go to school uptown, it’s a college so small the only reason he knows it is because it sits right next to a CUNY. Both of you had intentions on returning to the party and your respective friends, you swear you did, but as the two of you made your way down the bright streets of the neighborhood the appeal of late night dim sum crawled into your mind. And as if Bucky could hear your thoughts he offers, “Wanna’ go inside?”

Two hours over cheap dumplings conversation, you barely noticed all that time fly by. Both of you captivated with the other, feeling like the only people that mattered. This led you two back on the street where you began to wander again, making your way uptown.

You find out his dorm sits in the Village while you have your own place all the way in Upper Manhattan. It’s 3am and as things close and the subway slows, he offers you to come over. You know it could be a bad idea and your best friend’s warnings about stranger danger and true crime paranoia crawl to the front of your brain, but you throw caution to the wind and say yes.

Landing in his single, the two of you are sitting so close on his bed that your knees touch. Your night has been four hours of talking, laughing, flirting, and reassuring your friends via-text that you’re okay. You’ve had a track record of jumping in too fast, but it’s been four hours and he hasn’t made an actual move on you—you’re unsure what his intentions are but you’re also really into him. The words “Can I kiss you?” Escape your lips as he’s mid-story about him and his best friend, Steve, who you two abandoned at the party. He looks surprised and your face heats up, “Sorry I—I was interested, I swear. I just...I’m kind of into you and I wasn’t sure where you were on that and I’m trying to not jump into anything but I’d really like to kiss you.”

He laughs a little and smiles, "Yes, you can kiss me." It’s soft and gentle before you feel him smirk against your lips and pull back, “And for the record, I’m kind of into you, too." You smile and kiss him deeper this time, knowing your feelings are returned. So your night bleeds into day with the ending of kissing and talking and inevitably lying together in a mess of sheets as the sun comes up.

[letterboxd]

Chaotic Bisexual.

Shiva Baby writer-director Emma Seligman tells Ella Kemp about expanding her wildly cringey short film into an even more anxiety-inducing feature, why Virgo and Taurus make the perfect producing pair, and the eternal conflict of being a good Jewish girl.

“If I can skip a bris to see E.T., I like movies!” —Emma Seligman

It sounds like a strange riff on a guy-walks-into-a-bar joke: a girl walks into a shiva and bumps into her secret ex-girlfriend, then her sugar daddy, then his shiksa wife, oh, and their baby—yet the payoff is so much more rewarding.

Filmmaker Emma Seligman’s debut feature is a new kind of teen classic: 78 non-stop minutes teeming with well-drawn traits and tropes that define the best coming-of-agers, the best Jewish comedies and the best day-in-a-life psychological roller-coasters.

Shiva Baby began as a grad project—a short film of the same name—and Seligman’s feature-length embellishment impressed at last year’s virtual editions of SXSW and TIFF, where it was quickly snapped up for international distribution. In a way, Shiva Baby was perfectly tailored to the times we were living in: Danielle, our reluctant heroine, is trapped in a claustrophobic family event she can’t escape, as people from her past and lies about her future make their way deep under her skin.

Fred Melamed, Rachel Sennott and Polly Draper in ‘Shiva Baby’.

Shiva Baby is very much the product of a wry school of emerging filmmakers who understand excruciatingly mundane horror and pin-sharp comedy as intimate bedfellows. Seligman’s writing finds a way to flesh out gloriously caricatural Jewish relatives, probing and overbearing and irrational. She does this both through dialogue and a visceral, haptic aesthetic that lurches in and out of focus visually, and has a nails-on-chalkboard unease sonically.

Coming in hot with a 4.01 average rating, Shiva Baby is striking all sorts of discordant notes with film lovers. “Combines some of my biggest anxieties: being asked if I have a boyfriend as well as what my plans for the future are and people talking with their mouths full,” writes Muriel.

The film’s “bisexual chaos”, which hinges on a haywire performance from Rachel Sennott as Danielle, opposite Molly Gordon’s overachieving ex-girlfriend, Maya, is also one of its great strengths. Glee star Dianna Agron is the shiksa threat, Kim, while Danny Deferrari is Danielle’s hapless benefactor, Max. If that’s not enough? Polly Draper, Fred Melamed and Jackie Hoffman are also just there.

What do you think defines a Jewish sense of humor? Emma Seligman: It’s morbid usually, and darker—generally uncomfortable and cringeworthy. I think about Curb Your Enthusiasm or Seinfeld, and A Serious Man. It borders on, “Is this funny at all?” I think Jewish humor leans into the darkly funny British sense of humor. I’m Canadian, so I feel like I’m halfway between the UK and the US in terms of their sense of humor.

Was it always your intention to make a comedy that feels like a bit of a nightmare? You’ve mentioned Black Swan and Opening Night as touchstones… Because I came from a short film, the question when expanding into a feature was, “How are we going to keep everyone interested in this day?” It’s got to be a significant day, it’s got to be that this young woman’s life has completely changed from this day. So what is it that changes? Why are we watching it? I watched a lot of movies that took place in one day, one of them was Trey Edward Shults’ first film Krisha. And then from there I realized that anxiety and this scary psychological feeling is a great way to have the audience stay there.

I watched Opening Night because there’s a shiva in it, but it was more the lobby scenes that were so claustrophobic and tense. And then each step of the way with each department, we were like, okay, it’s gonna be tense, but then we got to music, I was like, okay, this has become a full nightmare. Initially, I was just like, it’s got to be tense, but by the end, I was like, well, it does feel like a nightmare to a young woman sometimes.

Because you mention that, I have to ask whether you’ve seen Bo Burnham’s Eighth Grade? I have, it’s incredible. It’s so funny, they’re both coming-of-age [films], and one of them is about a fourteen year old and then the same sort of feeling exists when you’re 22. When you’re fourteen is when it begins, and when you’re 22 you’re sort of at the end of it and you’re like, “Oh, I thought I figured out what I was supposed to do when I started feeling insecure this way at fourteen about sex and boys.”

Diana Agron and Danny Deferrari in ‘Shiva Baby’.

Let’s talk about Rachel Sennott, who you have describe as your “Virgo rock”. What do you bring one another in your creative partnership? She’s a hustler, and she sets goals like nobody else. I think she moves very fast, and I’m more detail-oriented. I don’t know if the movie would have happened without her because she was like, “What are the goals to achieve this film?” After we made the short film, she just kept checking in with me. She goes well beyond what an actor does, which is why she’s an executive producer, because she was very, very invested in seeing the movie get made.

I think she pushes. We joke that she brings me out of my depression and I help calm her down. I feel like Taurus is a little more chill. Virgos are also earth signs, but they run on a faster frequency. So I think I calm her down, especially when we’re writing and bringing it back to structure. But she’s way funnier, she’s able to give jokes so quickly. We balance each other perfectly, for sure.

Do you think your partnership with Rachel is the kind of partnership you could see yourself maintaining throughout your career? Definitely. I think it’s important to have a good friend and also a young woman. She’s got different career goals from me, but they’re aligned. And we’re not in competition with each other. I feel so grateful because so much of the time I feel like the world does make you feel like you’re in competition with your friends that are trying to do the same thing as you when you’re a young woman—or just maybe in general.

Rachel Sennott and Danny Deferrari in ‘Shiva Baby’.

Her character in Shiva Baby completely subverts the idea of a “nice Jewish boy/girl” which can be a trope in movies, but also very much a real thing in life. Is that something you consciously wanted to subvert, or did it come organically from the story you wanted to tell? I wanted to contrast that idea of a “nice Jewish girl” because every nice Jewish girl or boy has a sex life. I felt the sort of nice Jewish girl stressors on me were completely opposite from the NYU art school sugaring worlds, and hookup culture broadly. My family is such a huge part of my life and I think that those two sets of pressures are completely contradictory; to be a good girl or boy and have a stable career ahead of you, and to be finding, even if it’s at the very beginning, your eventual partner, or to just be in a relationship. And I felt like in school, no one wanted to date, everyone was hooking up. So many of my friends are sugar babies. I tried it super, super briefly.

I felt like the world was telling me to be like “an empowered, independent, sexy woman who doesn’t care what anyone thinks of her, and doesn’t abide by any rules”, and I was like, “This is the opposite of being a nice Jewish girl!” And I just felt like those two things were screaming at me. So I did want to play on that. But I don’t even think it’s playing, just because that felt like what I was trying to battle within myself. And I think a lot of young people do, whether they’re Jewish or not. That’s their family’s expectations. And then the world is like, “But don’t care and don’t commit…”

Writer-director Emma Seligman. / Photo by Emma McIntyre

But then you still have to go home to your parents at the end of the day and they’re going to tell you what to do… Exactly.

What would you want viewers to take away from Shiva Baby about the sugaring community that you feel has been maligned in the past? I’m not a sex worker, so I don’t want to speak on behalf of this community, but I definitely feel like there hasn’t been many positive portrayals of sex workers. So I just wanted to show someone—because I knew so many friends of mine who did it—who enjoyed it, or purposefully did it and didn’t feel bad or shameful about it. I think maybe a lot of people think that it’s always something that comes out of dire circumstances. But whether that is the case or not, I think there’s a lot of people who enjoy it and enjoy what they do like any other job. So I just hope that they’re able to sort of widen their scope of what a sex worker looks like and acts like. Every sex worker has got a family, friends, a full robust life, as we all do.

It’s time for your Life in Film questionnaire. Can you give me a few must-watch Jewish films for people who don’t know where to start? Fiddler on the Roof, Yentl, Keeping the Faith, Kissing Jessica Stein, A Serious Man. Definitely Uncut Gems, and Crossing Delancey.

Shiva Baby has been described on Letterboxd, variously, as “Uncut Gems but make it chaotic bisexual”, “the most stressful Jewish movie since Uncut Gems”, “the chaotic successor of Uncut Gems”, “if Krisha and Uncut Gems had a baby”, and, of course, “Uncut Gems for hot Jewish sluts”… Amazing, I love that. Extremely nice comparison.

Who is your favorite promising young woman? Not Emerald Fennell’s film, but a young creative or performer who you think is making waves. I love Hari Nef—I think she’s amazing and am really excited to see what she does next. I loved her so much in Transparent and Assassination Nation, and I don’t understand why she hasn’t been the lead in a million movies.

Molly Gordon with Rachel Sennott in ‘Shiva Baby’.

What should people watch next after Shiva Baby? Those Jewish movies would be a great start. And then Krisha, although I think a lot of people have seen it especially if they’re on Letterboxd! But then those Jewish romantic comedies, and then Obvious Child, all those movies are very sweet and endearing and helped me make it.

Separate from film, if it’s shiva-related then Transparent. If I didn’t have Transparent I don’t think I would have seen world of grounded, nuanced Jews that I could do comedy with. It would have been more in the Curb vein, which is also amazing, but a little more schtick.

What was the first film that made you want to be a filmmaker? My parents are huge movie buffs so I’m not sure there was one moment, but I will say that when I was six there was a re-release of the 20-year anniversary of E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial and I was at a horribly packed bris and my uncle was like, “Fuck this, there are so many people here, I can’t even breathe. Let’s go see E.T.” That was the first moment where I was like, if I can skip a bris to see E.T., I like movies.

Related content

From Short to Feature: Rob’s list of 2020 films that made the jump

Jewish Cinema (non-Holocaust): Amelia’s list of films “for when u want to celebrate your heritage but don’t want to have to think all too deeply about the Shoah”

Best Directorial Debuts of 2020: suggested by Letterboxd members, featuring Shiva Baby

Follow Ella on Letterboxd

Shiva Baby is now in select theaters and on VOD in the US. Film stills by Maria Rusche.

[tinyboxxtink]

Build Me Up Buttercup *Part 5*

WARNING: This chapter contains mention of sexual assault, please read at your own discretion. Also, I’m sorry these last two chapters have been kind of dark but next chapter will be super fluff I promise!

If you need to catch up:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 6

Tag List: @wanniiieeee

....And you just ran out?”

Your roommate’s judgement came through loud and clear, even through the phone.

“Yes! What the hell was I supposed to do?!” You tried defending your actions. You called them to feel better, not worse.

“Well, first of all you shouldn’t have LIED,” They kept their snarky tone.

“I didn’t LIE….per say,” You paced back and forth, twirling your hair in your fingers nervously. The silence after your statement was like you could SEE their faces just giving you “that” look.

“Oh okay what was I supposed to say? ‘Oh hey yeah you’re right Fin, I was an absolute party wreck until I couldn’t be anymore’?”

“I mean I don’t--” You heard footsteps coming up behind you, so you swung your phone to your side, cutting off their sentence.

You turned to see Rafael standing there, that permanent concerned look for you pasted on his face.

“Hey...are you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. I just needed some air,” You tried your best to stay calm and nonchalant.

“Are you sure? Because you--” He started to say something but you quickly interjected.

“Actually you know what Barba I’m kind of on the phone right now, can I meet you back inside?” You motioned with your phone, kicking yourself for being cold to him right now but you couldn’t deal with anything else at the moment.

“I...uh...yeah, sure,” He shook his head with an awkward smile, and walked back inside. Relieved, you put the phone back up to your ear.

“Aww, how cute. Barba cares!” your BFF’s voice cooed through the speaker.

“Yeah, in like a ‘dad caring’ kind of way,” you rolled your eyes.

“Oooof, I wouldn’t start throwing that term around, we might have to start talking about ‘daddy issues’, Y/N,” they giggled.

“SERIOUSLY?” You practically screeched into the phone, thanking every god you could think of that Rafael had gone inside before that comment.

“I’m just sayin! I’m ALSO saying that you need to go back in there and tell your squad the truth,” they returned to a very serious tone.

“Yeah I guess…” You sighed, knowing they were right.

“And I’m sorry I can’t be there with you holding your hand while you do it babe. But…”

“But what?”

“But maybe Rafael can?”

“Jesus, can you please be serious right now?”

“I am being serious! You just told me he helped you calm down earlier, and that wasn’t even half traumatic as this is gonna be,” They insisted.

“I don’t….how…?” Your face scrunched up trying to think of NON creepy ways you'd ask for someone's hand.

“Whatever, do what you want; But I do suggest telling them. Clearly you're not going to be able to keep this under wraps, and I doubt you want to keep freaking out on your co-workers. Trust them, trust RAFAEL,”

You sighed again, you knew they were right. Olivia said it herself, it was important to have a squad you trusted.

“Alright I’ll call you later,”

“You better!”

You took a deep breath and walked back into the bar, your hands shaking as you reached your booth. The group all started to speak, but you put your hand up.

“No just-- Let me talk. Fin, I am so sorry,” You addressed Fin, who shook his head in a “don't worry about it” manner.

“No, I really am. I’m sorry I freaked out on you and I’m sorry...I lied. Kind of,” the squad again looked at you in total confusion.

“God….okay, how do I….? Um….”

You started trying to form sentences in your head, words jumbled around in your brain. You started to panic again, when you felt a hand grip yours under the table. You snapped your eyes open and looked next to you where Rafael had taken your hand. He gave a small, supportive smile making you suddenly feel at ease.

“Okay. So, like I said I was pretty much a ‘caged’ child. I was homeschooled, I didn’t have any friends, just academics. Being born a ‘prodigy’ sounds good on paper, but I just always felt like a show pony. Or an alien experiment. People were always coming by to check out the ‘genius 5 year old’ play Mozart, or ‘the brilliant 10 year old finish calculus problems in under 30 seconds’.”

You took a deep breath, watching their listening faces. Too much detail hon, get there faster.

“Um, anyway. I graduated ‘high school’ at fifteen years old. I had barely made it through puberty, and I was already done with my academic childhood. Obviously, I wanted to immediately enroll in college, if for no other reason than to get away from my insanely controlling parents. But big surprise, they had a problem with it. It took me a minute to convince them that it was the right next step, full ride scholarships to literally any school in the country helped. And I mean, ANY school. All the Ivy leagues sent out their top recruiters to speak with my parents about having the ‘prodigy’ attending their establishment.

So with that, I was able to convince my parents that I knew what was best for me. I told them I was smarter than them, so clearly I could parent myself better. And God help them, they believed me,” You had to pause again, tears catching your throat. Rafael gently started rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

“So, I started at NYU that fall, just after my sixteenth birthday. Sixteen years old, the only child in a university full of adults,”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Sonny whispered to Amanda who nodded in agreement.

“So I got paired with this room mate Layla, who was the polar opposite of myself. She was gorgeous, totally socially gifted, but dumb as a rock. Her daddy had paid her way into the school,” you rolled your eyes just thinking about her.

“And truth be told I loved her at first, because she was the sweetest girl. My first ever real friend. She took me under her wing and gave me a complete makeover; socially and physically. I had NEVER had guys look at me the way they did after she helped me. It was....intoxicating.” You paused in shame, picking at your jacket.

“So, naturally, I wanted to hang out with my friend. My ONLY friend. And hanging out with her meant going to all the coolest parties, frats and sororities. I was SIXTEEN, I didn’t….I didn’t think,”  You bit your lip and stared at the floor for a moment before continuing.

“I lost my virginity at those parties,” you muttered quietly, and to your surprise the team started reacting.

“Wha-- Wait wait wait, guys that’s….that’s not even the bad part yet,” you gulped. Jesus the judgement was quickly getting real.

“Anyway I...was pretty much a huge party girl slut,” you shrugged. “I’d go and party, and hook up with random guys, and never thought twice about it because I thought ‘that’s what college girls do’,” You scoffed at your younger self for even having that notion. How could you be that smart and that stupid at the same time? It was baffling.

“And one night, it bit me in the ass,” You sighed, here comes the hard part.

“I don’t...I usually got so wasted that I didn’t CARE who I was having sex with and most of the time never remembered WHO it was anyway but-- but I’m pretty sure that night I didn’t want to,” You breathed out and looked up, willing the tears on the rims of your eyes to go back in where they came from. Rafael’s hand gripped yours tighter, making you feel safe.

“But it is what it is, this guy did what he did and left me on the floor in a frat house,” You scoffed again, this time tears dripping down your face. You couldn’t believe there was a time that you had been that pathetic, to just be left laying on the floor like a blow up doll.

“I guess Layla found me and took me home, because I woke up in my own bed. But I had bruises and hickeys ALL over my body, and just….brutal stuff,” You trailed off while you picked at your food, not wanting to go into any more detail.

Suddenly, as if turning on a light switch, your entire demeanor snapped back into ‘normal mode’, you wiped the stray tears away and cleared your throat. You were

“AHEM So...anyway, after….that, I told Layla that I couldn’t hang out with her anymore if that’s all we were going to do, and she understood. She didn’t like it, but she understood. The next semester I got a new roommate who was pretty much like myself, boring and socially inept, so I went back to the thing I knew best-- academics. I changed my major from biochemical engineering to law, because I didn’t want anyone else to go through what I went through without a voice. And after that, and a WHOLE lotta therapy, I just pushed that whole semester I lost deep, DEEP down, you know like a totally healthy person,” You tried playing it off with a laugh, but they weren’t amused.

“But...just thinking about Mary Fahey,” you sighed. “That girl had everything going for her, she was probably really smart and had a whole life ahead of her. She made the bad decision ONCE, to go to a frat party and she’s DEAD. Meanwhile, I was a stupid slut for a whole semester and the worst I got was bruised up and a pregnancy scare.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re saying what I think you’re saying,” Amanda gave you a look.

“What? That I should have been killed? Well why not? Why HER?” You protested, sipping your hurricane. It was unsettling to the squad how little you seemed to care about yourself.

“....I knew there was more to it in the bathroom,” you heard Rafael’s soft voice beside you.

“I’m sorry...I didn’t know how to tell you,” You looked at him with apologetic eyes. “I didn’t want you to think I was...trashy,”

“Ok now hold up” Fin interrupted.

“First of all, you need to stop throwing words like ‘slut’ and ‘trash’ around, especially about yourself, Y/N,” he took your hand.

“You said it yourself, people make mistakes. Hell if I worried about the amount of dumb shit I did when I was a kid I wouldn’t get out of bed in the morning,”

You had to break into a small sad smile after he said that, nodding your head in an understanding manner.

“And whether or not it was a one time thing or a ‘phase’, no one ever deserves to be assaulted for overdoing it at a party, or anywhere else,” Olivia chimed in. “EVER.”

“Exactly what the Sarge said. Assault is NEVER ok, in ANY circumstance. Even when you think you were ‘slutty’ by sleeping around, those guys are accountable too.” Sonny added. “Taking advantage of an inebriated woman is not okay,”

“AND it was statutory!” Rafael finally spoke up, his fists clenched. It was as if it had taken this entire time for him to fully process your story, and now that he did he was PISSED.

“Okay, Rafa, calm down,” Olivia placed a hand over his.

“No Liv, these guys should all be in prison for having sex with an incapacitated SIXTEEN YEAR OLD”

“Will you knock it off, counselor?” You hit his arm. “I didn’t tell you that story so you would go after a bunch of random idiots for something that happened over 10 years ago!”

“Well they should pay!” Rafael yelled again, but after you softly stroked his shoulder, he seemed to calm down.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Rafa,” you warily threw out the pet name, happy when he responded with a small smile. “But I’m over it. Mostly. On days that aren’t like this,” you added with a joking laugh, trying to ease the tension.

“Well, I really appreciate you telling us the truth, N/A,” Olivia nodded at you, the others followed suit. 

You gave the first genuine smile since you came back in, looking at Rafael. He took your hand once again under the table, giving it three small squeezes. Before you knew what you were doing, your head was dropping onto his shoulder and you were scooting closer into him.

“Get a squad you can trust, right?”

[eauderesistnce]

no one wanted him around, but around he is. the worst man alive: logan castro. 

:･ﾟ✧ * ˏˋ / ( shawn mendes, 24, male, he/him ) hey, i’m looking for the office of logan castro. they’re the employee who’s known around the office as the dumbass, if that helps ? not to be a gossip, but i’ve heard that they’re charismatic but foolish, is that true ? i also heard that they’re the one who catfishes people with co-workers’ pictures for fun. anyways, here’s the coffee they ordered. ( admin jacey, 24, she/her, mst )

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕡𝕠 !!

schmidt ( new girl ), pimento ( b99 ), donkey ( shrek ), lumière ( beauty and the beast ), flynn rider ( tangled ), sokka ( atla ), thomas o'malley ( aristocats )

𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕘𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 !!

so first things first, i guess we should start back at the beginning in a galaxy far, far away––except not really that far away because logan was born and raised in a stupidly pretentious penthouse in the heart of manhattan.

his parents were hippies who fell in love for one summer in mexico à la what a girl wants with amanda bynes before she lost her mind. 

*sighs wistfully* but summer couldn’t last forever. his dad went back to portugal to take over the family wine grove, and his mom went crawling back to live with in with her parents in nyc. 

he talked to his dad occasionally growing up, but honestly he was just pleased with the expensive gifts he sent him for his birthday and christmas. 

mostly, he spent his time with his grandma. she is ,,, a nut, but so much fun. she’s a famous sculptor, and she always let logan throw wet clay at the walls of her studio. 

he spent his entire educational career fucking around. he skipped class all the time to hook up or dick around with his friends. he managed to hide a lot of it bc his grandma isn’t exactly the type of parental figure to check his grades, but she did take away his car when he almost didn’t graduate lmao. 

he played soccer competitively bc they don’t have a gpa requirement. he didn’t really take it seriously, but he was pretty good at the state level. 

he had to go to summer school basically every summer, but the teachers usually didn’t mind bc he brought donuts and pizza all the time. 

he started at nyu with a soccer scholarship ( literally the only reason he got in was bc of test scores, family connections, and his athleticism ), but he showed up hungover to practice too many times, so they cut him sophomore year. thankfully, lil rich boy had his grandma to pay his tuition. 

connections got him into masters on the sports marketing team, and sometimes he’s like maybe i should do something with my life and make my grandma proud, but mostly he’s like...or i can just keep visiting her and doing absolutely nothing with my life. 

𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪 !!

he’s uuuuuuuuuhhhhhhh a big ho because hard work ?? relationships ?? rejection ??we don’t know her here in this house.

a chronic flirt. hate him.  

but !! he’s v upfront about his intentions, or actually i guess his lack of intentions, bc his grandma would kick his ass if he played a girl just to get in her pants.

he’s really chill. it takes a lot to get under his skin bc he doesn’t give a shit about literally anything. it’s his biggest problem, honestly. 

his life motto is you can’t fail if you don’t try lmao. the apathy is strong in this one. 

he is always down to get into shenanigans of any kind, especially during work hours. 

𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 !!

best friends: ( m, f, nb ), childhood friends: ( m, f, nb ), messy ex: ( f, nb ), fwb: ( f, nb), casual hookup ( f, nb), enemies: ( m, f, nb )

all the connections tbh. hmu or like this and i’ll hit you up !!

[captainvoyager]

Runways and Runaways

“Stacie Conrad."

Stacie, dressed in dark jeans and a white long sleeve-shirt with a blazer over it, looked up from the airport bar she was sitting at. She had a stack of papers to grade beside her but had her thoughts focused elsewhere. The voice cut through the hum of the airport bar and the people moving from place to place. It hit Aubrey square in the chest. When she looked up she saw a pair of green eyes and a warm smile that had been missing from her life for years.

“Aubrey?” Stacie slid out of her chair to hug the former Bella’s captain. “What are you doing in Dallas?”

The hug broke and already Stacie missed the warmth it provided. She slid back into her seat as Aubrey took the one next to her.

“Work,” Aubrey explained. She was dressed in the type of power suit someone who had to deal with the business world would. “I work as a corporate strategist now. When two companies merge they call me in to help them bring everything under one roof."

“You always did like to tell people how to get their shit together,” Stacie grinned. She flagged the bartender down and ordered herself a whiskey neat and a vodka martini for Aubrey. She turned back to just take Aubrey in for a minute. She looked just as good as Stacie remembered. Memories that created as much ache as joy.

“What are you doing in Dallas?” Aubrey questioned.

“The Joint Mathematics Meeting was in Dallas this year,” Stacie explained. “I’m a professor now,” She said with no small amount of pride.

“That’s amazing,” Aubrey’s smile grew at the news. “Where?”

“NYU,” Stacie smiled. “I ended up going to Stanford to finish my masters and Ph.D before coming back east.”

“Impressive,” Aubrey hummed. “How’s Bella doing?"

Stacie’s grin got even wider as she thought of her daughter. “Really well. She’s going to be eight in a few weeks. Growing up way too quickly for my taste but she’s the best."

Aubrey listened attentively as her drink sat down next to her on the bar. “It’s been years since I’ve seen any of the other Bellas. The last time was at Chloe and Beca’s wedding.“

“She and Beca come to Bella’s birthday party every year,” Stacie smiled. “Beca is a grump about it but she loves it."

Aubrey lifted her drink to take a sip before setting it back down. “Do you have any pictures?”

“A million,” Stacie laughed while pulling her phone out. She started to show Aubrey photos of Bella; at soccer practice, dressed up for her school play, with Stacie in Central Park. She looked more and more like Stacie the older she got.

“She’s got the famous Conrad smile,” Aubrey noted.

“I’m not sure it’s famous. Anymore at least,” Stacie chuckled.

“It’ll always be a little famous,” Aubrey shot a smile back.

“When does your flight leave?” Stacie asked.

“About an hour,” Aubrey asked as her hand fell to Stacie’s thigh.

When Stacie looked over at Aubrey she felt her mind flash over a decade before. Firelight instead of dim bar lighting. Mugs with coffee and whiskey instead of cold drinks in glasses. A shared blanket. Unsure kisses. Unspoken thoughts. She shook her head at the thoughts to try and clean them away.

Stacie looked down at her thigh before back up to Aubrey. “I had to stop being reckless. I don’t hook up with people I meet in bars anymore,” Her voice was a bare whisper as she looked into the greenest eyes she had ever seen.

“Then don’t hook up with me,” Aubrey lifted her hand to Stacie’s forearm. “I’m based in New York now.“

Stacie raised an eyebrow. “Are you asking me out, Posen?"

“I should have a long time ago,” Aubrey nodded. “You and I aren’t who we were in college. We’re not who we were the one time we gave in to whatever there is between us either. I’d like to get to know who you are now and be allowed the same thing."

Stacie breathed out slowly as she nodded. “Dinner then. You have my number, text me in a few days to set it up?"

“Alright,” Aubrey agreed. She frowned when she saw Stacie packing her bag with the papers she had beside her. “Leaving me?"

“I do need to get some grading done,” Stacie said as she shoved some papers back in her bag.

“I’ll see you in New York,” Aubrey smiled.

“See you in New York,” Stacie leaned in to kiss Aubrey’s cheek.

[imkylotrash]

When In New York City

Pairing: David Dobrik x reader

Song: All These Years - Camila Cabello

Summary: They meet randomly after a couple of years and decide to get a cup of coffee. 

A/N: There will be a part 2 for this. Let me know if you want to be tagged. 

PART 2

“Y/N?” You freeze. It’s been two years but you’d never forget that voice. 

“David?” you ask turning around with a smile. His hair is a little longer and he’s grown some stubble. He looked like a man now. 

“That’s crazy to bump into you. How have you been?” He’s smiling from ear to ear and it makes you think about all the times you’d catch him looking at you smiling when he thought you didn’t notice. 

“I’ve been good. Very busy. Your retweet really got the business going, thanks.” You’d left LA and moved to New York to open up a book shop that had special deals like bring a book and exchange it for new one. It also housed a small cafe with coffee and tables so you could sit and enjoy the book you just bought. And things had been going fine but they really took off after David retweeted one of the shops tweets. Suddenly all your days were busy and you’d even been able to afford to get your own place rather than share a flat with three others. 

“No problem at all. Just glad to help,” he smiles hesitating for just a second, “God, it’s been so long. Hug?” You shouldn’t do it. You’ve worked so hard to leave David in the past but when he looks at you like that you can’t say no. So you hug him and he smells just as good as you remember. He wraps his arms around your waist and squeezes you tightly. 

“So you’re still doing the youtube thing?” you ask noticing the camera in his hand. Of course, you already know that he’s still doing the youtube thing because you’ve got his post notifications on. But you’re not about to admit that now. 

“Yeah, it actually worked out pretty well.” It’s an understatement but David’s never been one to brag and you’re not going to correct him. 

“Listen, I’m actually late for a meeting, but we should grab coffee tomorrow? Is your number still the same?” For a moment your brain checks out completely and you just nod because yes, your number is in fact still the same but maybe coffee with your ex isn’t the best idea. Seeing him in New York has just reminded you of how much you’ve missed him and how you still wish he’d have come with you. But his youtube career was taking off and he couldn’t leave LA where he had his huge friend group to help with content and already a few sponsorships as well. But you couldn’t stay in LA since there was no market for you and your dream of owning a bookstore. Everything was digitalised in LA and no one wanted to open a book anymore. New York had always been the dream and none of you had wanted to stand in the way of each other. So you’d let each other go instead. David had driven you to the airport and kissed you goodbye. And that was it. The epic love story was over. 

“Shoot, I’m already late. I’ll text you,” he yells over his shoulder before leaving you in the streets of Manhattan lost in your memories of him. The rest of the day is a blur to you but you find your way home. You don’t really sleep that night but somehow it’s already 7am and you’re getting dressed. Looking in the mirror you shake your head to try and focus. You’re not 16 anymore - besides you’ve heard he already has a girlfriend that he’s very happy with. So there’s really nothing to be nervous about. It’s just two old friends getting a cup of coffee. Thankfully today is another busy day at the store so you don’t have time to think about it until the clock strikes 5am and David is standing in front of you. 

“Hi,” he says. You’ve already cleared it with Melissa to cover the evening shift and lock up when she leaves. She’s a very nice student for NYU and works harder than most people her age so you had no troubles leaving your beloved book store in her hands. 

“Let me get my apron off and I’ll be right out,” you smile before heading back. 

“You did not tell me that you were going out with David Dobrik!” Melissa squeals almost dropping the stack of books in her arms. Apparently, she’s a fan.

“We’re not going out. He’s an old friend.” 

“Sure. But my friends don’t look at me like that,” she smirks before walking out. When you return he’s surrounded by people all wanting a picture. He looks at you apologetically before returning focus to the swarm of people around him. It’s a good half hour before you can go but you don’t mind waiting. It’s nice to see him so in his element as opposed to when he first started out and turned into a blushing mess. Now he looked calm and confident which made him 10 times sexier. 

“Ready to go?” you ask once everything has finally calmed down. He nods offering his arm. You hesitate for just a second before accepting it. You have to be careful not to fall back into old habits. 

“So where do you want to go?” you ask looking up at him. 

“You’re the one who lives here. What’s good?” he counters with a smile. 

“Well, there’s a really small place just next to Central Park that has the best coffee you’ll ever taste. And the hot chocolate is amazing too.” 

“Lead the way.” As you walk to the cafe the two of you talk about everything and nothing. David tells you about moving in with Natalie and how he found Jason. He talks about SeatGeek and how he’s been able to do all these amazing things for his friends. In turn you tell him about getting the store up and running, all the renovations and the marketing. You talk about your family back home and how you might be getting ready to expand business. It’s like no time has passed since you saw each other last but you constantly remind yourself that a lot of time has in fact passed. You’re not the same people you were when you last saw each other. 

“Here,” you say noticing that you’ve already arrived. You quickly order some drinks for you before heading to Central Park. 

“Have you ever seen Central Park in December? It’s the most gorgeous thing ever.” 

“I actually haven’t. But maybe I should put it on my to-do-list for this year. You could show me around?” Say no. Just say no. 

“Sure.” Damn it. You look over at him and you feel this need to kiss him. After all these years he’s still the one person you want. Every date and every hook up just made you miss him more. 

“I have to take this. One second,” he says before taking a couple of steps away to create the illusion of privacy. 

“Hey babe. What’s up?” You shouldn’t listen. 

“I told I’m out with a friend. I’ll be back later.” It’s an invasion of his privacy. 

“I know. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, okay?” Why are you insisting on twisting the knife in your chest right now? 

“I love you too. See you.” He returns to you completely oblivious to what’s going on in your head. 

“So where to next?” he asks. 

“Home,” you say and quickly add, “at least for me. I’ve got an early morning.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Have I kept you too long? It’s just been so good to catch up with you.” He doesn’t mean it the way you want him to. You know he doesn’t but someone forgot to tell the butterflies in your stomach. 

“Yeah, it’s been great.” 

“Listen, I’m flying home tomorrow. But maybe I could be lucky enough to see you next time I’m in New York?” For the love of God, listen to your-

“Sure.” You’re an idiot.

[hms-chill]

Father’s Day

Summary: Father's Day in the Claremont-Diaz-Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor household is a lot. Henry is the father of the youth shelters, so it's his job to look after the one in Brooklyn at the very least. And Alex and his dad are close, so of course they'll spend the day with Oscar. But Henry's missing his own father, too. (lots of Emotions™)

When Henry gets home from work, he wants nothing more than to relax with Alex for the night. They've got one of their biweekly cooking lessons planned if Alex doesn't have too much work to do, and hopefully, they'll have time after that to just relax together. David greets him at the door, and Henry rubs his ears a bit before going up to their shared office to drop his bag off and say hi to Alex. He's just opened the door a bit when he hears Alex's voice. When he peeks through the crack in the door, Alex is on the phone, leaning back in his desk chair.

"Yeah, I mean, I'd like to, but I'll have to talk to Henry. I'm not... we haven't really talked about it yet, and I can see it being hard for him... exactly. So I don't want to do anything to make it harder for him. I don't know if he'll need me or want me here, but I'll see... sounds good. I'll talk to him."

Henry pulls the door to the office shut. Now isn't the time to bother Alex, and he tries to convince himself he only thinks that because Alex is on the phone. He leaves his bag in their bedroom instead, leaving his tie there, too, as he goes to feed David. David follows him, whining slightly, and when Henry bends down to feed him, David all but climbs into his lap. Henry sighs.

"I'm okay. You're a good boy, but you don't need to worry about me. I'm okay." David whines again, and Henry nods. "I know. But whatever it is, Alex will tell us when he's ready. He said he'd talk to us, and he... he wouldn't let me stop him from doing something he wants. Once he wants something, he just goes for it, so we don't have to worry, okay?"

Except that, maybe, Alex would let Henry stop him from doing something he wants to do. He'd only picked NYU for law school because Henry was going to be in Brooklyn. He could have gone anywhere, and maybe he would have liked it better somewhere else. Instead of even looking other places, Alex had changed his whole life plan and ignored everything to be able to live close to Henry. If he'd let something as simple as Henry's presence change that much of his life, Henry has no idea what else Alex would sacrifice for them, and the realization scares him. Maybe he's already given up big things so he can stay close to Henry, or because he thinks it's something Henry wouldn't like. Maybe, if it weren't for Henry holding him back, Alex would be happier or more successful.

He's still trying to think that through as he finishes feeding David, and he's watching to make sure David doesn't eat too fast and make himself sick when he hears Alex coming down the stairs. A moment later, arms wrap around his waist and pull him in for a hug, and Alex leans up to kiss his cheek.

"I didn't realize you were home."

"I got in a bit ago. You were on the phone."

Alex's arms tighten a bit, and he asks, "everything alright? You'd normally say hi, at least, or make sure I know you're here."

"It's fine. How was class?"

"Okay, see, that's how I know it's not fine. When you're actually okay, you'll say you're okay, or that nothing's wrong, or something like that. You don't just change the subject. You... you can talk to me, you know that, right? Baby?" Henry closes his eyes and takes a breath, his hands moving to rest on Alex's arms.

"I know. It's okay, really. Let's... let's just focus on dinner, alright? If you have time tonight?"

Alex turns him around to study him for a minute, then nods. He looks concerned, but he lets it slide, going to get their aprons and focusing on Henry's cooking lesson. They're making tacos today, and it should be easy enough, but Alex is insisting they make their own seasoning blend and their own tortillas, which add a layer of complexity that Henry wasn't quite expecting. Still, it's nice to have something else to focus on, and even if he keeps sneaking worried glances, Henry is thankful that Alex hasn't asked anything more about what's wrong. It gives him until he's at the stove, focused on browning taco meat, to ask "you... you wouldn't let me hold you back from anything, would you? If there was something you wanted, or somewhere else you wish you could be. you wouldn't let me stop you?"

"You're not holding me back, Henry. If anything, you're pushing me to be better."

"But if there was something you wanted, you... you'd do it, right? You wouldn't let me stop you?"

"What's this about?" Alex asks gently. He's at Henry's side, cooking tortillas, but Henry keeps his eyes trained on the meat.

"I... I overheard a bit of your phone call. You said you wanted to do something, but you'd have to talk to me first. If you want to do it, you should; it doesn't make sense to wait for me to tell you that. I love you, and I want you to do things that make you happy no matter what."

It takes a second, then Alex pulls Henry closer and wraps an arm around him, hooking his chin on Henry's shoulder. "That was a phone call about lunch plans. I don't want to make plans on a day you might need me. Not that you need me or anything; you're a strong independent prince who don't need no man. But, you know. I wanted to be around if you want me here."

Henry just hums, and Alex leans over to flip a tortilla, though he keeps his arm around Henry's waist. "But if you really wanted something, you'd tell me? You wouldn't let me stop you, or tie you down or anything?"

"Of course I'd tell you, and if it took me away from you, we'd make it work. We did distance for over a year, and it sucked, but it worked. I don't want to do it again, not ever, but, you know. We could, if we had to." Henry nods, and Alex hesitates for a moment, then says, "if you wanted something, you'd do it, too, right? You uprooted your whole life for me; if anyone's worried about something like this it should be me."

"Alex, I... I think I would have moved here even without you. You were the push I needed, but moving away from Pip and Gran and all that is the best thing I've done since I kissed you."

"Are you telling me you didn't move across the globe just to be closer to me? You didn't base your life-changing decision purely on the fact that it would make it easier to see my ass? I'm shocked, I'm upset, I need three to five days to process this. But hey, it looks like the meat's done, let's get it in a bowl and we can keep going from there, okay?"

Henry agrees, and they finish up, and dinner is considerably lighter than it could have been. It's not until they're cuddled under a blanket on the couch, Henry held safely under Alex's arm while he scrolls though Netflix, that he thinks to ask who Alex was talking to.

"Oh, just my dad. We... he thought maybe, if on Father's Day you're doing something like what you did when you brought moms to the youth shelter for Mother's Day, he could come up for the day. June and I make fun of him for being like... the most stereotypical dad, so he thought maybe he could hang out there for a while and just, you know. Make dad noises, tell bad jokes, listen to old music. That kind of thing." They'd also talked about Oscar coming over to make dinner to celebrate, but Alex isn't sure how Henry would feel about that. British and American father's days are the same, and it feels wrong to celebrate if Henry's going to need to take the day to grieve.

"I'd like that," Henry says, pulling Alex back into their conversation about plans, "is there anything you usually do for Father's Day that you want to do?"

"Well, the past few years, June and I would get breakfast or brunch with Leo, then I cook dinner with my dad and June hangs out. So he... Dad offered to bring steaks and corn on the cob and we could make dinner here, but we don't have to. What... what about you? Is there anything you want to do that day?"

Henry sighs, picking a bit of fluff off the blanket and flicking it away before he answers. "I... I hadn't really thought about it. We visited his grave the first year, but that felt wrong. Then I just tried to ignore it for a year, just pretend it was any other day, but that... that felt wrong, too. And it's sort of impossible to ignore. Bea and I watched some movies we were on set for last year, and that was nice We all have movies where he snuck us into costume and into a shot or two, so we watched those and some home videos. We'd pause them and share stories about what we remembered from being there, or what we missed about him. But I... I don't really know if we're planning on anything happening this year."

"Alright. Well, whatever you need, I'm here, okay? I... you don't have to make a decision now, but when you do, I'll support whatever you want. Promise."

"What about your dad? I want you two to have a good day, too."

"My dad gets it. I can make dinner with him another day if I need to."

Henry smiles, leaning over to kiss the slight stubble on Alex’s cheek. “How did I get lucky enough to have you?”

“I ask myself the same thing every morning,” Alex says, smiling. He plays with Henry's hair for a moment before adding “just let me know what you need that day, and we’ll do it. Even if it’s different the morning of, or halfway through, or anything. Dad and I get it, and we love you.”

“I... I’ll let you know. Thank you, Alex, truly. It means a lot to know that you..." Henry struggles to find the words for everything he appreciates about Alex, but there aren't enough words in English or French for everything he's feeling. "Just... thank you for being... you know.”

“I think so,” Alex says, laughing a bit. He kisses Henry's forehead, and Henry just smiles as he leans his head on Alex’s shoulder with a yawn. Alex pulls him closer as they find a show, and Henry is overwhelmingly thankful for him, and his dad, and the opportunity to think things over before he decides on plans for Father's Day.

--

What he decides is that they'll do a Father's Day celebration at the youth shelter, and then Oscar will come over for dinner afterwards, and he'll be fine. He'll call Bea in London that afternoon, and then he and the Diazes will go to the brownstone to cook dinner together. He'll join Alex and Oscar's tradition, and they'll be happy to have him, and he won't have any problems with it. Alex teaches him to grill corn the week before so that he can make elote, and Oscar buys plane tickets, and everything is set. Alex is excited, and Oscar is excited, and if Henry's a little less excited than they are, it's just because he's not quite sure what to expect. Still, even if he's not thrilled, he is looking forward to it.

Except that, when Father's Day comes, Henry doesn't want to do anything. He'd thought he'd be okay, he really had, but then a tweet about how much Pez loves his dad is the first thing he sees when he opens Twitter, and all of a sudden Henry misses his dad so much it physically hurts. All he wants to do is cry, or maybe spend the day in bed with David and Alex, but he can't. He can't disappoint everyone who's expecting things from him, not today, so he kisses Alex's forehead and gets up to build a prince around his grief, burying it in pomade and Burberry and a perfect press face. Alex comes in just as Henry's about to start shaving, pressing a kiss to the stubble on Henry's chin before it disappears for the day.

"Good morning," Henry says. His smile is real as Alex's arms wrap around his waist, even if it is a bit smaller than it would normally be.

"Good morning. How are you doing? Feel okay about today?"

Henry could tell him. He could say something, and Alex would abandon his plans in a heartbeat. But they're plans Alex is excited for, plans he wants to do with people he loves, so Henry nods. "I feel good. I'm excited to see your dad."

"Me too. What time is it?"

"His plane lands in half an hour; we should head to the shelter soon if we want to beat him there."

Alex just hums, planting another kiss on Henry's stubbly cheek. Half of Henry's face is coated in shaving cream by now, but until Alex stops rubbing on it like a kitten, his other half will stay stubbly.

He's shaved the free half of his face and finished with his hair before Alex moves away to start getting ready himself, and Henry finishes shaving and goes downstairs to heat water for coffee and tea. Alex joins him not too long later, and Henry, who's given himself a few moments to text Bea and let himself be sad between starting the water and feeding David, greets Alex with a thermos of coffee just the way he likes it. Alex thanks him with a kiss, and they take their drinks to go, Alex driving to the shelter and occasionally glancing over to make sure Henry is doing alright. Henry smiles every time, eventually convincing Alex not to worry enough that Alex just grins and talks about how much the kids at the shelter will like his dad.

Oscar arrives only a few minutes after they do, greeting them both with big smiles and bigger hugs. He calls Henry "mijo", and while Henry normally loves that, today it feels like twisting a knife. He just smiles, leaving Alex and his dad to catch up while he goes inside to greet other dads who've volunteered their Father's Days to help kids who might be missing parents.

He thanks them for coming, and he wonders how many of them know about his dad. How many of them know that he's grieving today, and can any of them see it on his face? Will any of them bring it up? They've got a pancake station set up, and as he leads the pancake flippers to their griddles, he wonders if any of them have lost their own dads or children. Maybe, if they're in the same boat he or the kids at the shelter are in, this will help them. He hopes so. There are grills set up in the back, so he leads the dads who know how to grill to the back yard, where they've got grills and backyard games set up. Then it's back inside to great the kids who've come to breakfast, wondering how many of them know about his dad.

Oscar is sitting with Alex and a group of kids, at a table full of smiles and laughter. Alex moves over on the bench and grabs Henry's hand as he passes, clearly expecting Henry to sit down, but Henry just leans down to kiss him before moving on. If he spends too much time there, Alex will know something's wrong. So he finds a different table, with a dad who seems completely different from his own, and he laughs with those kids and that dad, playing board games when they finish their pancakes. He keeps seeing Alex and Oscar in passing, and he doesn't let it become obvious that he's avoiding them, just tells Alex something about wanting to spread out to not pick favorites as he finds another table to join. Hopefully, Alex doesn't realize he's never worried about that in the past.

After lunch, Henry slips out of the main rooms and goes to his office to call Bea. The knot of sadness in his gut has been steadily growing, twisting and turning and pulling more and more of him into it as it threatens to overwhelm him. And it hurts. He misses his dad so much his whole body aches with it. Bea and his mum are together, and he video calls them, and they laugh and cry and share stories about his dad for so long he has to plug his phone in. They're both proud of what he's doing today, and his mum says that his dad would be proud, too. She tells them both how proud he'd be, and how much he loved them both, and them Philip joins the call and they get to mourn with him, too. For the first time all day, Henry lets himself miss his dad. He lets himself feel sad, even for a few minutes, and it helps. There's still a twisted knot of pain and loneliness that he's hiding, but it's not as all-consuming as it was.

Eventually, it's late enough in England that his mom is going to bed, so they end the call and Henry is left alone in a quiet office.

He can't go back to the party. He doesn't have it in him to pretend to be happy and put together anymore, not without more time to process everything. So, instead, he takes out a piece of paper and a pen to write a letter.

Happy Father's Day, Dad

I’m spending it with some of the kids at a youth shelter I’ve opened in Brooklyn, New York. It’s... it’s a bit bizarre, really, how different things are now from when you left, but I think you’d be proud. If you were still here, maybe you’d come visit today. Alex’s dad is here, and the kids love him a lot. I think you’d like him, too. You’d probably give Gran a heart attack if you spent too long together, but she has it coming you’d have fun. Maybe if you were still here, you’d be here in Brooklyn with us today, stepping in as a dad for kids who need one. You’d be good at it. You’d have your guitar, and you’d somehow know every song they asked for. Maybe you’d do a duet with Oscar, and you’d make them all so happy. But you’d be there for quieter moments, too, to tell kids who were lonely or sad that you love them. You'd find every kid hiding in a corner or who was upset, and you'd help comfort them, just like you did for us growing up when everything got to be too much. Maybe you’d be a pen pal dad for some of them, writing in to keep up with their lives and love them. They’d like that a lot, I know it.

We're planning on going home-- Alex's and my home, I wish you could see it-- soon. Alex and his dad always make dinner together on Father's Day, so we're doing that. He's been teaching me to cook so I can help them, and I'm not as bad as I thought I would be.

I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you so much. So, so, so, so, so much. I wish you'd gotten to meet Alex. I wish you could have met Oscar, or seen the life we've made here. I wish you could meet Martha, and see how amazing and tough Bea is, or all the good things Mum's doing. I wish... I wish I'd told you. About me. I'm gay, dad. I know I've written it before, but I never told you out loud, and I wish I had. I'm sorry I didn't. I should have said something, but I was scared. I don't know why; you wouldn't have cared. You loved me, right?. You loved me. You would have loved me no matter what.

I hate writing about you in the past tense. You love me. You're... somewhere. I don't know what I believe, but I want to believe you're somewhere, still loving and looking after me. I want to believe you've seen Alex, and you know him some, at least. Oscar's Catholic, and I don't know everything about how that works, but it means he believes in an afterlife. Maybe he can get a message to you or something.

I love you. And you love me. Whey you were here, you said it was past, present, and future, so it's still true. You're somewhere, and you love me, and you always will.

I have to go; we're heading home soon so Alex and Oscar have time to cook, and I have to put a game face back on so I don't ruin their day. I love you. I miss you. Happy Father's Day.

-- H

He folds the letter, then seals it in an envelope, then just stares at it for a long moment. Mailing it feels stupid, and he's not sure where he'd even mail it to, but he's not sure what feels right. Eventually, he reaches for the candle on his desk and dips the corner of the envelope in, watching it catch fire and slowly start to burn. They'd cremated his dad, maybe by doing the same to the letter he can get it where it needs to go.

When the letter's gone, Henry straightens his tie in the mirror and puts on his best press face, the one not even Alex can see through sometimes. He takes all the emotions he's let himself feel for the past couple hours and twists them into the tightest ball he can. If it unravels him a bit, leaving him frayed at the edges, well, at least all of the pain is in one place instead of being woven into the fabric of his being. Then, he takes that twisting knot of pain and shoves it into the deepest, darkest hole he can, down into the pit of his stomach where he can ignore it as it slowly pulls him apart and makes a home in his gut. They're having dinner with Oscar before he takes a late flight back to DC, which means Henry has to keep it together for another few hours at least before he can curl up in a ball in bed and feel all the emotions he's spent the day burying. He tries not to think about what Alex will say when he does retreat to their bedroom, because he knows it will just give him more emotions to twist up and bury, and the pit where he's been putting everything is already getting dangerously full. He's not sure how many more bits of himself he can pull away before he falls apart completely, but hopefully, there's enough of him left to make it through the night.

He rejoins the party, smiling at and helping kids and doing his best to ignore the dads. He's looking for Alex when he finds one of the kids instead, curled up in a corner. Henry sits down next to him carefully, and says, "can I help?"

"I... I just want my dad back. I don't want someone to try and pretend; I know some kids need that but I... my dad loved me. It only got bad at home after he died, so I don't want people trying to replace him, I just... I want him back."

"I'm sorry. I... I know how you feel, at least a bit; my dad died, too. It can make Father’s Day hard.”

“What do you do?”

“I just... when it gets to be a lot, I let myself feel it,” Henry lies. The mass of repressed feelings somewhere in his gut twists. “I wrote him a letter earlier, just to have written it. It didn’t bring him back, but it felt good to spend time with him and tell him things.”

“Does it... does it get easier after a while? Do you miss him less?” The kid asks. His eyes are so big, and Henry swallows.

“Yes and no. Parts of it get easier, and it’s... it’s not so consuming, but it’s never gone. You always miss him, and there are always bad days and hard days. I never plan anything on my dad’s birthday because I know it’s a hard day. But it's... there are good days, too. There are times when my sister and I just talk and laugh about him, and it doesn't feel sad anymore. It doesn't feel sad to remember him, at least not all the time. So I... I guess you just sort of learn to navigate it and find ways to celebrate and ways to grieve. I’m sorry I can’t promise it stops hurting.”

“It’s okay. It... I think, if it went away totally, I... I’d feel bad. I think I’d feel like I’m forgetting him if I wasn’t sad. But it... sometimes it’s okay to be sad, I think. Like in Lord of the Rings, when Frodo has to leave and Gandalf says that crying isn’t always bad. Sometimes, if we’re sad, it’s because we lost something important or good, and then it’s okay to be sad.”

“Exactly,” Henry says, shoving his own sadness deeper as it threatens to explode. “Sadness has a place and a role, just like everything else. It helps us remember and process things.”

The kid next to him nods, then says “thank you for sitting with me. It felt good to talk. I know there’s a therapist I could talk to, but that... that feels like a big deal. It was nice to just talk to someone like it’s normal.”

Henry smiles, then says, “Want to come out for the barbecue, or would you rather I bring something in?”

“I’ll come. My dad couldn’t grill, so it’s... it feels different.”

“Okay,” Henry says. He helps them up, and the kid smiles, and Henry puts on his best press face as they head toward the fleet of grills and he looks for Alex and Oscar.

He finds them looking for him, and they slip out of the party to head home. Falling behind a bit, Henry can see just how happy Alex and his dad are, and it's so overwhelmingly clear they're related. Henry has no place in this Diaz world of expressive hands and roaring laughter, not with the knot of feelings he's been burying or the quiet letters and phone calls he's been using to get through the day. He slips into the back of the car, insisting Alex and Oscar take the front, and he leans his face on the window and squishes all his feelings down.

He won't cry.

He will not cry, no matter how much he misses his dad.

He misses his dad so, so, so much.

Alex's hand lands on his knee, and Henry processes that he's said something about Oscar staying for dinner, and Henry agrees that it sounds great. He wants nothing less, but it will make Alex happy, so he'll push down the part of him that wants to cry and he'll be a good boyfriend. Even if every moment between them adds to the knot in his gut, and even if every time Oscar calls him "mijo" he wants to scream, he'll smile and laugh and let Alex be happy.

At the house, David comes straight to Henry and refuses to even go out until Henry picks him up. He immediately starts licking Henry's face as Henry carries him outside, and he barely moves away to go to the bathroom before he's back to whining at Henry's leg. Henry just sighs, settling for sitting on the ground and letting David climb into his lap.

"Hi, boy. I'm okay. You.. you don't need to worry." David doesn't seem at all ready to listen, just to curl up on Henry and lick at his hands and face. That's how Oscar finds them eventually, Henry trapped under David and trying to process things as Oscar sits down beside him, reaching over to rub David's ears. Henry, who's started to let his emotions out again, slams them back down with the force of a meteor crashing to earth.

"That was a good thing you did for those kids today. I can't imagine what you're going through, but just... just know I'm here if you need me, alright, mijo?"

At that 'mijo', Henry feels the knot in his stomach twist as his last thread of composure gets sucked into the yawning pit that's taken over the inside of his being. He stands up so quickly that David has to scramble to get his legs under him. Henry knows that he says something, some empty, meaningless platitude that hopefully excuses his abrupt exit, then he's inside, ignoring David's cries and Alex saying something in the kitchen as he goes to curl up on their bed, barely remembering to close the door as hot tears spill onto his cheeks. He can barely hear David whining outside, but he's pretty sure whatever excuse he gave Oscar wouldn't justify kidnapping David, so he ignores him in favor of curling up on the bed, hugging a pillow to his chest as all the loneliness and pain of the past day overflows.

He misses his dad.

He's lonely, and he's sad, and there's a twisting in his gut that feels suspiciously like guilt. Guilt for trying to be happy today, guilt for acting like he could forget his dad. Guilt for letting Oscar call him 'mijo' all this time. Guilt for leaving Oscar outside when this isn't really his fault.

He doesn't hear the door open, but somehow David is there, snuggling into the space between Henry's knees and his chest and licking at Henry's tears. Henry hugs him, sobbing, and his sobs renew when he feels Alex's arms wrap around him, pulling him in close.

"I'm... I'm sorry," Henry manages. "You... you should... should be with your dad."

Alex just shushes him, pulling him closer and rubbing his back. "It's okay. We'll cook together another time; he had to take a call anyway. I'm sorry I didn't notice you were hurting. I... it's going to be okay. I love you. I love you, and your dad did, too."

That gets another sob out of Henry, and Alex just rubs his back gently, keeping him close. Slowly, Henry's tears die, replaced by quiet hiccups as he curls in on himself more. He tries to move away from Alex, to let Alex get back to his dad and his happiness, but Alex moves with him.

"You... you don't... your dad. I... can you tell him I'm sorry? I... I can't... I can't do the rest of today, but can you... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. If... if I could I'd help with dinner, and we'd have fun, but I... I can't. And I think I might have yelled at your dad, so now that I'm okay and you can go back, can you tell him I'm sorry?"

"H, I'm not going anywhere."

"But your dad. You... he's here to see you; it's Father's Day. You should spend it together. He's still got his face buried in a combination of a pillow and David's fur, so he's not sure what Alex's face is doing. He's almost afraid to check. Alex should leave; he should go back to join his dad and not let Henry ruin their night. He's ruined so many things for so many people; he doesn't want to ruin this, too.

There's a hand in his hair, gently tugging his face out as it plays, but he just curls in tighter around David. He's not going to ruin Father's Day for Alex and Oscar.

“Baby, I... I thought we agreed you’d talk to me today. I thought you were going to tell me how you feel; my dad and I both knew things could change. We planned for them to change if you needed. Either one of us is happy to do anything you need, just... just please don’t shut me out? I... I love you.”

Henry’d thought he was done crying, but at ‘baby’, another sob claws its way up his throat. Alex pulls him closer, and Henry says, so softly he’s not sure Alex can hear, “I miss him.”

Alex's hug gets impossibly tighter. "I know. I'm sorry he's gone. I'm sorry I can't do anything to bring him back. I love you."

Henry just cries more. He's not sure how long it takes for him to uncurl from his little ball, but when he does, he's pulled closer to Alex immediately, and any space between them that's not occupied by David disappears immediately. Alex plays with his hair and presses kisses to whatever skin he can find while Henry cries off and on, just missing his dad.

"I'm... I'm scared I'm forgetting him. That I... I don't remember his hugs, or the way he smelled, or... or so many other things. This place... my whole life is so different from what he knew, and I'm... I'm losing him."

Alex pulls him closer, somehow, and Henry cries. He wants to grab Alex’s shirt, to keep him here, but he’s already doing so much to ruin Alex’s day he doesn’t want to make it worse. So he keeps his hands down, so Alex can leave whenever he wants. If he leaves Henry curled up on the bed to cry, well, that's not the end of the world.

"I'm... I'm sorry. Do you... would it help to tell me about him? You don't have to, but would it help?" Alex asks, and Henry freezes. He's not sure. He'd talked with his family, and that had helped, but Alex... hasn’t he ruined enough for Alex today? Alex doesn’t need Henry’s sad memories or his guilt on top of everything else.

But Henry does want to talk. He wants to talk about his dad, wants someone else to understand. So he says, “I... I don’t want to make you sad. I’ve... I already ruined your day; I don’t... I’ll just make it worse. You should go be with your dad.”

“You didn’t ruin anything. If you want to tell me about your dad, I want to hear about him.”

So Henry does. He starts slowly, talking about things like movie sets and public appearances that Aelx probably already knows, but it's not long before he's getting deeper. He tells stories of his dad sneaking them out at night to look at the stars or get ice cream. Stories of his dad looking after him when he was sick, or staying home when the kids were uncomfortable going to an event, and it never felt like a chore for him. He was what got them out of things they didn't want to do as kids; as a non-royal he could avoid things more easily than their mom. Henry talks and talks, telling stories to Alex's chest and David's back until he finds the courage to talk to Alex's face. When he finally does look up, Alex's eyes are watery, and there's so much sweetness on his face Henry almost can't bear it. Then he notices tears on Alex's cheeks, and he stops in the middle of a story to reach up and brush them away.

"You... I'm okay. You don't need to cry; I'm fine."

"I know. You're so tough. It just... it hurts to know you've been upset today, and you've had all this buried inside you, but I missed it. It's scary. I... I just want to be here for you, okay? Whatever you need." He takes Henry's hand in his, pressing a kiss to each of his knuckles and Henry wipes a tear from Alex' cheek. "I love you."

"I'm sorry you had to--"

"Hey, no. I didn't have to do anything. I wanted to come look after you. I... I wouldn't leave you alone. Not on a day like this."

"Still. I'm sorry I couldn't do everything we planned. I wanted to, I did, I just... I woke up this morning and just missed him so much, and it all... it felt like I was cheating, somehow, or I was moving on and forgetting him. I'm sorry. I thought I'd be okay, I really did."

"It's okay. I... I don't understand, exactly, but I know feelings are complicated and hard. I'm sorry I didn't pay attention. I... I should have known something was wrong."

"It's not your fault; I've been avoiding you all day. I didn't want you to know."

"Still. I'm sorry. If you get to be sorry you were hurting, I get to be sorry I didn't notice."

Henry's quiet a moment, and Alex uses that quiet to brush a few tears from Henry's cheeks. Henry turns to press a kiss to the inside of his wrist, then says, "I love you. Thank you."

"I love you, too. And I'm here for anything you need, okay?"

Henry nods, and Alex presses a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I'm going to get some water and some dinner, okay? If... if you want to come, we can cuddle on the couch, but otherwise I can bring things up and we can stay here."

"What... what about your dad?"

"He was going to see if Nora was free, or if Cash wanted to go somewhere together."

"If... if he wants, we... maybe we could still do dinner? I know it's probably too late to cook, but he... he came all this way." He can hear how small his voice sounds, and he hates it. Alex just studies him for a minute, then nods.

"I'll see what he's doing. We could order pizza and play some card games or something? Maybe, if you want, Shaan and Zahra could join us? I think she came up with Dad so they could spend the day together."

Henry smiles, and the face Alex makes is so loving he's nearly speechless with the force of it. "I was just thinking I should thank Shaan for everything he's done. Before you, he would have been the one to help like this. I... if your dad's still here, I think having them all would be fun. I bet Zahra's great at poker."

"Oh man; I am the worst at poker. You'd have to be on my team and help me," Alex says. He's smiling, and even if the room still feels a bit heavy, it's better than it was. They go downstairs together, and they find Oscar on the phone, though he ends the call as soon as he sees them.

"Henry, I am so, so sorry. I never meant--"

"It's okay. It... it wasn't you, it was just... I missed my dad a lot today. Way more than I thought I would. I'm sorry I snapped."

"Forgiven and forgotten," Oscar says. He looks almost hesitant, but he opens his arms, and when Henry hugs him, Oscar hugs back tightly.

"I... I do like it when you call me 'mijo'," Henry says. "Just... it was just a lot today."

"I love you. I'm sorry."

"Forgiven and forgotten." Henry smiles when he pulls out of the hug, and Oscar pats his back a few times. Alex explains their plans, and Oscar agrees that pizza and games sound good, so Henry texts Shaan while Alex orders pizza. Shaan and Zahra come, and they rope Cash into their games so they can play in pairs. When Oscar has to leave a few hours later, he leaves behind smiling boys and a stack of empty pizza boxes. They wave goodbye to him and Zahra from the stoop. When they're out of sight, Alex kisses Henry's cheek and goes inside, leaving Henry and Shaan alone.

"Thank you," Henry says. "I don't say it enough, but I mean it. Ever since Dad, you... you've just been here for me, and I really appreciate you. Thank you. I... I love you."

"I love you, too," Shaan says. He pulls Henry into a hug, and Henry hugs him back tightly. "It has been an absolute pleasure to get to know and watch over you. Your dad would be proud of you. I know I am."

Henry hugs him a little tighter. Somewhere, he knows, his dad is watching. And wherever he is, he's proud.

On AO3

Notes:

I wrote that fic for mother's day, and then I saw that Henry refers to himself as the father of the youth shelters, and what can I say. I needed this to exist.

Want to support the Hannah Makes Art fund? You can tip me in ko-fi here!

[danarichardsonx]

name: dana richardson

age: 31 

gender & sexuality: cisfemale, heterosexual

relationship status: single

occupation: english teacher at providence peak university

neighbourhood: university heights

Dana was always a loud and out going kid, never actually cared about what people thought of her, because she knew her confidence was something that got her places. People used to say her confidence inspired them to be confident. At school she was miss popular, but not miss popular because she was a bitch, yes she was head cheerleader and she enjoyed that role of bossing people around and she knew some people used to be jealous of her and she could be loud and bitchy or more like sarcastic, she did care for people and she was always trying to help people. Although at school it seemed like she had the perfect life, the life people wanted, she felt alone, she was never close to her parents, she was always the one who was ignored, everything overshadowed her. All she ever wanted was her mom and dad to love her and she never felt like she got that.  

Dana never had any luck in the boys department, it wasn’t that she never tried but in high school she was always busy with Cheer and trying to work on future fashion ideas and being good friends to her two best friends, that trying to date wasn’t really in her books. She didn’t mind the hook ups from time to time but she never actually held a long time relationship, she hated the ideas of being vulnerable with a guy who could easily break her heart. When it came to friends, Dana was very much a loyal one, she cared so much for everyone on her cheer team but her two closest friends, she wouldn’t change them for the world and she knew they would do anything for her and she knew no matter what they were her family as well as her best friends. Although Dana never did relationships, she had one problem, her best friends boyfriend through high school, she grew feelings for him. He became very good friends with her and she was very much a person who happily opened up to him and he was the first person she ever grew feelings for and it crushed her because her loyalty kept her from even thinking of doing anything with the guy.

When Dana graduated high school, she got accepted into NYU to study English literature and it was everything she ever dreamed of, she loved the city and the lights, the night life and the course she was studying, it was perfect no matter what. She did miss her friends from home and they were all so busy that it was hard for her to be away from them but she accepted it to make her dream, she knew she would eventually move back home afterwards for a bit maybe if her dreams hadn’t come true beforehand. Dana grew up in Providence Peak and it was home for her, and there was always times she would miss it, she would think about days by the beach and with her friends but all the time she had to remember why she moved to New York and what she was doing it for. Whilst at college she let her guard down for the first time and became more vulnerable with a guy that she never expected too. She didn’t want to but he was someone she felt comfortable around and felt like she should probably try things with him.

Dana and Michael who was from London, UK were dating from her Junior year of college until two years after they graduated. Michael was the reason Dana stayed in New York partly. They were happy for a long time, then Michael proposed, why Dana freaked out she didn’t know, wouldn’t any girl want to be proposed to? She ended up saying not now, she wasn’t ready and that broke their relationship. Dana regretted saying no but she was so not ready to be engaged, she hadn’t even got anywhere in her dream, she was just working a bar job for the whole time since she was a Senior at college, how could she think about marriage when she wasn’t even sure where her future was going. Dana stayed an extra two years until she was 26 in New York before she realised it was probably time she went home, nothing was happening for her and she felt lost that she needed to go home to have a moment of clarity.

Since Dana has been back, she felt herself again, she felt like she was no longer lost, she had a passion for designing and she had started sending them off to see where it could go. It was something she worked hard on. She is now teaching at Providence Peak University, she never expected to be doing that because she had hoped to write her own book or do something else with what she had studied but she decided that she needed a job and fell into teaching and fell in love with it

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

Best Friend

Ex Boyfriend

School Friends

Close Friends

Work Friends 

[runpogorun]

Gravity

To fill my Marvel Fluff Bingo square, Astronomer AU. No warnings apply, rated G, Matt Murdock/Foggy Nelson, 2759 words. Read it here or over on AO3.

Matt makes his way slowly into the room. The first thing he finds is the couch in the middle, presumably facing the TV, so Matt circles it slowly, his cane tapping lightly between the heavy thud of upholstery on his left and the hollow chink of wooden skirting board. The cane makes a higher tink as it collides with a metal structure and Matt reaches out with his hand, searching, and confirms a metal cabinet. He continues sweeping his cane across the hardwood floor, wary of any rugs, as his hands skate the surface of the cabinet finding photo frames, three clustered plant pots. He sends some loose sheets of paper skating off the surface and freezes, trying to track their direction of flight. 

“Don’t worry about it!” Foggy calls from the kitchen. “I’ll get them.” 

Matt turns his head over his shoulder, towards Foggy, and grins sheepishly. “Sorry. Comes with the territory.”

Foggy tsks quietly. “It’s not a problem. They’re just bills. You said whisky, right?”

Matt nods, “Yes, thanks,” and resumes his exploration. There’s an open doorway just past the cabinet, and Matt pauses, head tilted. “This the bathroom?”

“Yup.”

Matt moves his cane again, and it twangs in his hand with another metal vibration. But this doesn’t feel as heavy as the cabinet. He frowns, and reaches forward as he hears Foggy come up behind him.

“Oh, that’s a little more fragile, but feel free to… feel away.”

Intriguing. Matt stretches through space and finds smooth, painted metal with his fingertips. The metal is curved into a tube, and as his fingers move along it they find an encircling ridge. The object gives under his touch, and he finds the pivot point, the tripod suspending it. He tucks his cane under his arm and takes a step forward, using both hands to get a better idea of its dimensions.

Matt turns his head back in Foggy’s direction. “Is a telescope actually useful in New York City?”

Foggy makes a considering noise. “It’s alright. Not as good as, say, the Socorro Desert. But I can still see things.”

“Does your apartment have roof access?”

“Not the apartment itself, but the super lets me use the service stairs. 

“Nice.”

“Yeah.”

Matt files that away, drops his hands and turns towards Foggy. “Shall we sit?”

“Sure.” Foggy moves towards the couch. “Did you find the couch? It’s over here.” He pats the cushion with an open palm, a firm thump of orienting sound.

Matt smiles at him. “Yes, thanks.” There’s a coffee table as well that Foggy forgot to mention, but he expected that. He folds up his cane and drops it on the coffee table and sits down next to Foggy before accepting his drink. “So, what sort of things do you like to look at? You’re not a creeper, are you?” He takes a sip, revelling as always in the first burn.

Foggy laughs loudly at that. “No. I’m an astronomer.”

Matt tilts his head. “You said you were a teacher.”

“I am. I teach Observational Astronomy and Cosmology at NYU.”

Matt laughs. “And here I was, thinking you were a dance teacher.” Foggy had held the class in his palm, everyone drawn to him, like he had the strongest gravitational pull in the room. It had only taken three classes for Matt to succumb, and accept an invitation for a drink.

“That’s just a hobby. I like to boogie. And it’s a good way to meet people,” Foggy says, nudging Matt with his elbow.  

Matt raises his glass, and Foggy clinks them together. “Slainte. So, do you do this often?” He takes a sip.

“Meet people?”

“Bring strange men back to your apartment.”

Foggy laughs at that. “Strangers are friends we haven’t yet met. But, honestly? No. I don’t.”

Matt considers that. He, in contrast, does do this often, but usually only once or twice with the same person. Matt’s a comet, shooting in and out, plenty of noise and fuss but little substance.

“How about you,” Foggy asks.

“Me?” Matt mentally scans through all the men and women he’s dated in recent history. This may not be the moment to share that information.

“How do you make your crust?”

“Oh.” Matt leans back against the couch cushions and stretches an arm along the seat back, towards Foggy. “I’m a lawyer,” he says, mouth quirking in a slight smile, and waits for the inevitable praise. People are always impressed.

“Oh cool. I nearly did Law,” Foggy says. People often say this - it’s one of those throwaway lines. But then he adds, “I was aiming for Columbia but then… I took an intro to Astronomy class over the summer after high school and I sort of… fell into the stars.”

Matt tilts his head. “Tell me about it.”

Foggy hums, consideringly. “I’d always been interested, you know?” he says. “But I hadn’t really thought that it could be my job. I thought it would be fun to take the class, that it would be interesting. So I did.”

“Always a solid choice, choosing the interesting.”

“It was residential, close to an observatory. One morning we got up in the middle of the night, and towards dawn I saw the Orion Nebula. It’s near Orion’s Belt.  And it was so beautiful, and unknown. I wanted more. I couldn’t stop thinking of what else must be out there. 

“I mean, we do know a lot now, especially when a probe like Juno fires back information, but also a lot of it we can’t exactly know. No one knows what it’s like to stand on the surface of Eros, not really. Or what the Helix Nebula looks like from the inside. We can model it, sure, but we can’t know. I was hungry to find out what I could. I was hooked.” Foggy stops, abruptly, and Matt can hear him sip his drink.

Matt is struck by the emotion in Foggy’s voice, growing with every word. “That’s a great story,” he says. “Not everyone finds their passion, or follows it.

Foggy takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. “Yeah. You know, I don’t usually tell people all that, right out of the blocks.”

“I guess I should feel honoured,” Matt says.

“You should, my friend,” Foggy says, the humour back in his voice.

Matt angles his head towards the telescope in the corner. “And that. Do you use it often?”

“Uh yeah, I do, actually.” Matt can hear Foggy shifting against the cushions, like he’s embarrassed again, caught out. “I mean, it’s no match for the Keck telescopes, but it still lets me look. I like looking.”

“Why don’t you show me?” Matt suggests. “I mean, if it’s a good night for it.”

Foggy holds his breath for a moment, then lets out a puff of laughter. “Sure. Why not.” 

It takes a minute to get sorted. Matt snaps out his cane, stashes the whisky bottle under his free arm and holds the glasses in that hand. Foggy is gentle, almost reverent, with the telescope as he folds up the tripod. They head out the apartment door, Foggy and telescope leading, Matt and whisky following, and up the stairwell to the roof. 

The summer air is still warm, but cooler than the oppressive heat of the day. “Over here,” Foggy says. There’s a table and a couple of chairs set up to one side, and Matt settles down to listen as Foggy fusses over the equipment.

“You do do this often.”

“Mmm. It’s nice up here. Quiet.”

Matt listens to the sound of cars rushing in the street below. It’s muffled, sure, and you can’t ever escape cars in New York City. But Foggy’s right. It is peaceful.

“What do you see?”

“There’s still some light in the sky from the sun, but Mars is close and bright. And Venus. Not that I need the telescope for them.”

“You don’t?”

“Not to find them. They’re just like bright stars. But it’s not really dark enough yet. I’ll wait a bit.” The other chair creaks as Foggy sinks into it. “Tell me about your law practice, Matt. Are you a corporate hotshot?”

“Not so much.” Matt shrugs. “It’s just me and my partner Kirsten, and our paralegal Karen. I mostly do what Kirsten says.”

“Partner?”

“Business partner,” Matt says, smiling at Foggy. “Best friend from law school.” 

“What kind of work do you do?”

“Small stuff, mostly. Tenancy disputes, work visas, that kind of thing. Most of our clients come from here in the Kitchen.”

“Sticking up for the little guy!” Foggy cries. “Show me some skin.” Matt holds up his palm and Foggy high fives him. “That’s what I wanted to do.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, like I said, it was the stars. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d learned in that in astronomy class. And I’m good at Math, so that helps. I ended up switching from Philosophy to Physics before the year started. And then I went on to get my doctorate at UC Davis. My parents were devastated when they realised I wasn’t going to drive a Bentley” he says, laughing.

Matt laughs with him. “Academia isn’t really a way to make money, is it?”

“It’s really, really not. Not like law. Mom wanted me to be a butcher but that was never going to happen, so at least I could have done something which would have made me rich. Such a disappointment.”

Matt laughs at that. “You sound like me. I’ll never be rich.”

“Your family counting on you for the bucks, too?”

Matt sobers. “Uh, not exactly.” He needs to get off this topic, now. “How far into the galaxy do you usually look?”

“The radiotelescope guys look right back in time, as far as we can look. But I kind of like our neighbourhood - our solar system. Each planet in our solar system is a whole world. Well, obviously they literally are worlds. They’re suspended, hanging in the enormous void of space. They look so serene, from Earth, as they hurtle through the endless blackness, but they’re dynamic and complex. Did you know that the Great Red Spot on Jupiter is so large that two Earths could fit side by side inside it? It’s an enormous storm that’s been raging for at least 150 years, probably much longer.”

Matt shakes his head. “I don’t know much about any of it.”

“We’re all so far from each other, and together at the same time. Once you leave our solar system it’s 25 trillion miles to the next one.”

“The next galaxy?”

“The next solar system. Our galaxy is fifty-two thousand light years across.”

Matt shakes his head. It’s too big a number to make sense.

“We’re bound by gravity to the rest of our solar system. There are so many stars and planets out beyond the Kuiper Belt,” Foggy continues, “And we’ll never be able to reach them. We can’t even see most of what we know is out there, we just have to make an educated guess at it, work it out from the clues.”

Matt half-smiles to himself, and takes a sip of his drink. “Seeing and knowing are two different things.”

“Uh, yeah, of course, I didn’t mean to--” 

Matt cuts him off with the wave of his hand. “So you took the class, and fell in love with astronomy?”

“Oh no, that happened much earlier. Growing up in the city I never saw that many stars, you know? When I was eleven I went away on summer camp to this place upstate. We stayed in these little cabins in the woods by a lake, just outside a small town. It was weird - so quiet, but sometimes you’d hear a wild animal. And at night, the stars! I didn’t know the sky could be like that. Like grains of sand scattered across a velvet blanket. I’d sneak out in the middle of the night when the sky was truly dark, and the entire sky was covered with stars. The trees were only visible as the places where the stars weren’t. 

“I discovered later that Aboriginal people in Australia, who live in the desert where obviously it’s really dark and the sky is very clear, have constellations that are the darker areas between the stars. The reverse of us who live with more light pollution. All people look up at the stars. We all wonder.”

Foggy suddenly sounds like he’s come back to himself, remembered where he was. “I’m sorry, I’m doing all the talking and this is probably really boring.”

“No,” Matt says quietly. “It’s not. I’ve never heard a description like this before. I-” He cuts himself off, unsure how to carry on without making himself sound wistful, and smiles. “I like it. I like listening to your voice.”

Foggy makes a quiet, pleased sound. “That’s a great line. I feel like I should be saying things with gravitas, or beautiful things. She says nothing at all, but simply stares upward into the dark sky and watches, with sad eyes, the slow dance of the infinite stars,” he quotes.

“Now that’s pretty,” Matt says.

“It’s Neil Gaiman. And he’s right, about the stars and planets dancing, caught in each other’s gravity.”

Matt smiles. “So then, tell me,” he prompts, gesturing upwards. “What’s there to see tonight? You said Venus?”

“Let’s see.” Foggy stands and goes again to the telescope. Matt hears the quiet scrape of metal as Foggy adjusts the focus. “There’s Jupiter. It’s high and bright right now. And Venus and Mars.” 

Foggy’s quiet, and Matt considers how far away his focus is. It’s hard for Matt to have a clear impression of anything beyond the reach of his hands - when he’s not touching something it could be anywhere, just out of reach or miles away. But Foggy looks at planets thousands of miles away, places he can never touch but he knows.

“Sometimes it’s better not to use the telescope at all,” Foggy says. “The Leonids meteor shower is going to arrive in a couple of months, and that’s better observed with the naked eye.”

“What are meteor showers like?”

“Fireworks. Bright, white hot stripes painting the sky. Streaking across the heavens.”

“But no boom.” Matt places his empty glass on the small table next to the bottle, and his glasses alongside.

“Good point! And several nights in a row. I’m looking forward to it.” Foggy sounds like he’s turned back to the telescope. 

Matt stands, the whisky now making him loose-limbed and easy, and walks slowly towards Foggy. His hand is slightly extended, reaching for the tune Foggy’s humming under his breath - it’s Drops of Jupiter. He clears his throat. “And what do you see, closer to home?” His voice is low and husky.

Foggy jumps and turns and his arm bumps Matt’s hand. “Oh! Um. Well.” Matt hears him take a quick breath, as Matt brings his hand to rest on Foggy’s shoulder. “I can see at least one beautiful thing.”

“That’s very cheesy,” Matt says, sliding his hand up to Foggy’s neck, then further to cup his cheek. He fans his thumb across to Foggy’s mouth, finding a goatee, and feels Foggy lean in to match him. “But I like it,” he breathes.

Foggy makes a small noise of pleasure for the brief moment that his warm, soft lips are pressed against Matt’s own. Matt brings his other hand to Foggy’s face, sliding both hands back and finding that Foggy’s hair is pulled back into a low pony.

“I didn’t think long hair would be allowed, Professor?” Matt asks.

Foggy huffs a laugh. “It’s Doctor to you, and anything goes these days.” He rests his forehead against Matt’s. “I like you,” he says, breathless.

“Really,” Matt says, one eyebrow lifted.

“I promise I’m usually better at… Words. And things.”

“What sort of things.”

“Oh, I can totally show you. But I feel obligated at this point to tell you that my super has a CCTV camera on this rooftop, and he is probably watching us right now because that’s the kind of guy he is. So, maybe we could take this back downstairs? If I’ve wooed you enough with the stars.”

“I could stand to hear more,” Matt says. “But yes, let’s go inside, and continue the story there.” And Matt follows Foggy again, drawn along by his gravity. He wonders what happens to a comet that gets caught in a gravitational field it can’t escape, wonders if he’s going to find out.

[threeletterslife]

On a Cold Summer Day

→ summary: Maybe deciding to leave California to attend uni in New York was the dumbest decision you've ever made. It's fucking freezing here! You don't think you can survive without the beach twenty minutes away from your living space. At least you have a native New Yorker Kim Seokjin to help you adjust. Kinda.

→ pairing/rating: seokjin x reader | PG-13

→ genre: 70% fluff, 30% crack | college!au

→ warnings: profanity, mentions of sex, implied sex, dating apps lol (tinder & bumble)

→ wordcount: 7.2k

cr. 

This is a motherfucking abomination.

They're asking you to come to class on a Monday at 8 in the morning??? What kind of fucking monstrosity was this? You thought college was supposed to be a goodbye to waking up early. Now you have to take your goddamn philo 101 class at the asscrack of dawn (okay, it's not exactly dawn, but still).

It's too early to be discussing Socrates and human ethics and all that head-aching shit. And even worse, it's fucking freezing in New York!

You're what people call the basic SoCal girl. You grew up with palm trees in your backyard. Anything below 80 degrees is enough to make you bring out your winter jackets (which aren't really real jackets either). In fact, your definition of a winter jacket is slipping on a lightweight flannel over your usual tank top.

But now, in New York, damn the weather wasn't kind. You wear a parka to class and when you're waddling about the campus, you look like a giant marshmallow. Honestly, it's a little humiliating.

It hasn't even been a month and you already miss California. God, you miss the sunshine. And also In-N-Out.

The college workload isn't as bad as you anticipated so even after attending your dreaded morning classes, you're left with a sufficient amount of time. You used to spend those extra hours on Tinder, passing left and right on guys with the swipe of your thumb as you drooled over their shirtless profile pictures.

But ever since you met Jungkook—

Ah, Jungkook. He was a very interesting story. How do you start telling this? Hm.

Well, it really started on the first day of college. The moment after you attended orientation, found your dorm, kissed your parents goodbye and said hello to your roommates, you revisited your trust-worthy dating app, Tinder while lounging on your bed. All that professional business on the first day of uni kind of made you horny.

Back in California, you had a few memorable encounters with your Tinder partners that left you blushing and hot-faced for weeks. When your high school besties found out you were moving away from the Golden State to attend NYU, they would not let it go about all the hot NYC men you would be able to, er for the lack of better word choice, bang.

So you were going to listen to them and hook up with a New York guy. And not even twenty seconds into your swiping party on Tinder, you spot him.

His name is Jeon Jungkook. 20. NYU student. Civil Engineering. Hot damn. You had to take a few seconds to stalk his profile before screaming internally and victoriously swiping right. Now you just had to wait until he swipes right on you. If you're lucky, maybe you could get laid tonight.

And lucky you were.

You dressed in a simple outfit (that'd be easy to discard) and met Jungkook at the Shake Shack for a casual date (in which the burgers are not as half as good as the burgers in In-N-Out). After some casual discussion that honestly didn't last too long, he took you back to his rented apartment.

And then you had the worst sex in your life. Not that Jungkook was lacking in the downstairs department, (no, no he was pretty measurable), but apparently he had a roommate that would not fucking shut up for the life of him. It's not a very sexy experience when you hear someone loudly rage quit Minecraft in the room next to you.

But you and Jungkook had both laughed it off. After all, the two of you already really clicked. And on your part, although you didn't quite have the perfect hook up, you found a likable NYC man. You were surely going to see him again.

See him again you did. Jungkook made sure his roommate would be gone this time before the two of you lay down on his couch and began watching some random rom-com. Halfway through, he initiated some making out, which was as perfect as making out could get. Until you muttered something about how "sexy a NYC man is."

Jungkook laughed so hard he almost fell off the couch. The rest of the night was not spent having sex. Instead, the two of you stayed up late talking about your home states, which both happened to be California. You were so excited about meeting another Californian that your horniness completely dissipated.

And from then on, you and Jungkook became close buddies with slight benefits. (You found him to be a better platonic companion than a sexual partner.) Mostly you came to him to rant about New Yorkers, and he would laugh at you, telling you that you would get used to it.

So, that was your story with Jungkook.

Now you're on your way to his apartment with some Shake Shack to-go so the two of you can watch Shark Tank (which you've been dying to see). When you finally reach Jungkook's apartment and knock on his door, to your surprise Jungkook doesn't answer it. Instead, a tall man—a handsome man—stands looking at your rather puzzled face.

He's so unbelievably hot that your breath hitches.

"Hey," the man says, grinning. "JK's girl?"

"I'm single," you blurt out, no doubt making googly eyes at the man in front of you. "I-I brought some Shake Shack," you offer. "Um, Jungkook and I were, like, supposed to hang out..."

"I'm here!" Jungkook's calls from inside the apartment. "Let her in, bitch!"

"Yesterday I was 'motherfucker' and today, I'm 'bitch,' apparently," the Bitch Man says. "I think JK's forgotten my name." When he laughs, you don't know why you feel flustered. "I'm Seokjin," he says, gesturing for you to come into the apartment. "But you can call me Jin. Or any variation. I don't really care. As long as it's not 'bitch.' " Seokjin glares at Jungkook who's snickering in the background.

"O-Okay," you say, stumbling into the apartment and nearly tripping over your own shoes as you place the takeout bag on the kitchen counter.

"Hey, Y/N!" Jungkook says, slapping your back as he greets you merrily as usual. "Long time no see! I have the show on TV already. You ready?"

"Yeah, yeah," you say quickly. "Dude, but like who the fuck is the hottie?" you whisper urgently to your friend. "Like I don't remember you telling me you know someone like that."

"Oh, him?" Jungkook snorts. "That's my roommate."

Your eyes turn wide as you gape open-mouthed at the handsome figure casually lounging on the couch already. "Shut up. He's the fucking Minecraft rage quitter??"

Jungkook laughs. "Yeah. Not so handsome anymore, huh?"

You're still in shock, stuttering to find an answer, but Jungkook laughs at your pathetic attempt, grabbing the Shake Shack bag and dragging you over to the couch.

"Dude, is he like going to hang out with us?" you ask Jungkook in a low whisper, nodding over at Seokjin who was busily using his phone.

"Yeah, I hope you don't mind," Jungkook tells you as he man spreads on the right side of the couch, putting you in the middle of the two men. "His Bumble date canceled on him last minute. So I'm trying to patch up his enormous ego."

"Fuck, of course I don't mind," you hiss at him. "But if you told me earlier, I wouldn't have come here in sweats. Like I thought it was weird that you ordered two burgers, but like I just thought you had a huge appetite today!"

"I think you look hot in sweats."

"Well, thanks." Wait. You freeze. That was definitely not Jungkook's voice. A blush creeps up your cheeks as you turn to your left, only to see Seokjin, gazing at you with friendly eyes and a bright smile. "O-Oh!" you sputter. "T-Thanks, Jin. Sorry, it's just that like, I, uh I take first impressions pretty... um, seriously."

The man on your left laughs out loud. "Y/N, my first impression of you was weeks ago. I heard you and Jungkook through the wall."

Your mouth drops open. "No."

"Yes," Jin insists.

"NO!" you shout, leaning back from Seokjin and squishing Jungkook in the process. "Were you trying to be a loud gamer to drown out our noises?!" you shriek.

"Yes?" Seokjin says so obviously that he even phrases it like it's a question.

"Oh, god," you groan, burying your face in your hands. "I'm sorry. I'm, like, actually so, so sorry."

Jungkook tries hard not to burst out laughing at your humiliation and even Jin can't help but grin.

"It's fine," Seokjin says. "You made it up to me with the burgers!" he exclaims, fishing out his Shake Shack hamburger from the bag and breathing in deeply. "Ahh," he sighs dreamily, "the best hamburger money can buy."

Okay. You have to admit that his perfect New York accent is hot, but you can't just ignore what he had just uttered. "I think In-N-Out has the best hamburger money can buy," you say, crossing your arms over your chest quite authoritatively. You tend to become quite defensive about Californian culture.

Jungkook snickers at how serious you've become in a matter of seconds but he stays silent.

Seokjin looks at you with his eyebrows raised and an amused smile on his lips. "Really?" he says. "You should get used to the Shake Shack then. We don't have In-N-Out around here."

Your mouth drops open for the second time today as you jerk your body around to stare at Jin. "What the fuck do you mean there's no In-N-Out?"

The man shrugs, relaxing back with his burger in hand and grinning at you. "I mean, we do have better burgers at the Shake Shack."

You groan, collapsing back on the couch and staring defeatedly at the bright TV screen. "I miss California."

"Jungkook went through the same thing," Seokjin assures you. You slowly turn your head to look at him. "I helped him assimilate to NYC life. And now look at him! He's so good at acting like a pure-blood New-Yorker that you even called him a 'sexy NYC man!' "

Oh, no. That particular memory sears through your head, leaving you flustered and quite frankly, frustrated.

"What?? How do you even—" you pause to glare at Jungkook who suddenly refuses to look your way. "I can't believe you told him, Jungkook!"

"We're roommates. We tell each other everything," Seokjin proudly says.

"Oh, god," you mutter under your breath.

"Seok's right, though," Jungkook pipes up. "He's the man to go to when you want to get into the NYC spirit! The dude was born and raised here. He knows everything you need to know about New York. Hang out with him a few times and you'll surely have to drop your SoCal girl status."

You huff. "But like I love being a SoCal girl!"

"We'll see how fast that can change," Seokjin grins.

This isn't a date... is it?

Seokjin had offered to take you out to wander about New York and guide you around to sight-see. He'd told you to dress casually, but how casual is New York casual?? You end up wearing a wine-red sleeveless romper and some cute gladiator sandals, which would honestly make you feel underdressed if you walked anywhere around LA like this.

But one step out into the cold night air, your teeth begin to chatter aggressively. Seokjin's already waiting for you outside of your dorm building and he laughs out loud when he sees you shivering violently.

"You sound like a woodpecker," he snorts. "You look cute, by the way."

"T-T-Thanks," you stutter. "Holy shit, Seokjin, how are you in a T-shirt and shorts right now? It's so motherfucking cold, goddammit!"

Jin throws his head to laugh—almost as if you told the funniest joke in the world. Which, you did not. "It's only 70 degrees, Y/N!"

"It is not!" you argue. "Shiver me fucking timbers, it has to be at least thirty degrees. Where's the snow??"

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have worn a sleeveless romper then," Seokjin teases you. "Do you want to go back inside and change?"

"No!" you say. "It's called fashion. Back in California I could wear whatever the fuck I wanted. Like, do you understand that my wardrobe's being limited here??"

Seokjin shrugs, nudging you playfully as he gestures toward the night sky. The brisk air nips at your bare arms and tickles your nose, making you huddle closer to the man next to you. He merely smiles at your action and wraps a warm arm around you. "Welcome to New York, Y/N."

School keeps you busy for a good few months. Meeting up with Jungkook to rant about New York's rat problem and nasty subways while drooling over California's great wonders has become a rarity especially when you're trying hard to maintain your straight-A streak (literally since the day you were born). You haven't even touched Tinder on your phone for a good three months! (And that has nothing to do with the fact that you kinda might have a crush on Kim Seokjin.)

You've been texting him a few times a week (though you've never really gotten to meet up after your first, uh, "date." But the flirty texts he sends you and the promise of meeting up after all of your major exams makes you work twice as hard on your schoolwork. Jin also incessantly teases you about your strange Californian dialect, but you don't mind—especially when you can bag him for replacing every 't' sound with a 'd,' thanks to his New York accent. (He keeps pronouncing 'the' like 'da' and you have to admit, it's a little endearing.)

By the time Thanksgiving Break rolls around, you're deep in the process of organizing your lecture notes so you don't let yourself go out for a whole week.

And when Winter Break rushes in, you and Jungkook take off to California to reunite with family, leaving Seokjin to drown alone in the New York festivity while you and Kook enjoy a hot winter (literally). But the two of you make sure to come back to New York during New Year's to celebrate the iconic ball drop.

"I don't have to watch it on TV anymore!" you had said triumphantly.

When the countdown had signaled a New Year, you weren't lip-locking with either of your friends (but you didn't really mind). Instead, Seokjin had popped a bottle of apple cider (because you and Jungkook couldn't legally drink yet). Jin sipped his own champagne as he watched his younger friends get sugar drunk on apple cider.

All too soon, Winter Break is over. And now's the start of a new semester at NYU, but you already know your classes and professors so you finally let yourself relax. (Jungkook always tells you it's crazy how strongly you radiate work-hard and play-hard energy.)

Yet no matter how long you spend in New York, you just can't get used to it. It must be because you've mostly been stuck inside studying.

The moment you meet up with Jin again, you're brought into the world of New York once more.

"I missed your accent!" you yell as you nearly bulldoze over Seokjin to hug him when he opens the door to his apartment for you.

"Wow. You didn't miss me?" he jokes as he embraces you, tugging you into his apartment and closing the door behind you. "I thought you'd be happier to see me and not hear my insanely hot accent."

"Keep talking, please," you giggle, burying your face against his chest.

"You have no shame, Y/N," Seokjin sighs, but he lets you cling onto him as he waddles backward and towards the small living space with the TV set in it. "JK's out on Tinder date so the apartment is for us," he tells you as he practically throws you on the couch. "What do you wanna do?"

You huff, straightening up your clothes and glaring at Jin for tossing you. "I appreciate it. Like I'm totally not a fragile package," you mutter sarcastically. "I don't know. I guess we can, like, do anything. Are you in the mood of staying in..? Or, like, do you wanna go out?"

"Hmmm," Seokjin pretends to think. He collapses on the couch next to you, staring up at the ceiling with a thoughtful look on his face. "How about we go out?" he says. "You've been cramped up in your dorm room for so long, I think you need fresh air."

"It's like you can read my fucking mind," you grin. "Where to?"

"We're going to get some New York-style pies!"

"Oh, shit," you say. "I love pies."

Apple pie, blueberry pie, key lime pie... Fuck, I'm practically salivating already.

Seokjin winks at you, hoisting you up on your feet and marching toward the apartment door. "Pies, here we come!"

"I fucking thought we were getting pies, Seokjin. Like, dude. This is a pizza parlor," you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Oh, Y/N," Seokjin laughs, ruffling your hair with affection, but when you glare daggers into him, he stops with a nervous chuckle. "Well, we New Yorkers call whole pizzas, pies. It makes more sense that way."

You nearly rip out your hair. "How does that make sense? Pizza and pie are two completely different things! What do you call your pies then??"

"We call them pies!"

"Huh??"

"Whatever," Seokjin snorts. "You need to get used to all of this New Yorker dialect and slang," he says, nudging you. "What do you want on your pizza pie? I'm getting a whole one so JK can have the leftovers."

"Um, I usually get cheese, mushrooms, goat cheese and oregano," you say. "But, like, I'll take anything except pineapples. Pineapples on pizza is a fucking sin."

Jin gasps loudly, putting a hand on his heart. "I always put pineapples on my pies!"

"Oh no. Don't tell me you're one of those people," you groan. "Come on, Jin, I thought you knew better! Like I swear, it's a New Yorker thing—"

"Don't you try to put the blame on New York!" Jin says. "Besides, JK likes pineapples on his pizza pies too, so maybe you're the weird one."

"God, not Kook too."

"Well, we'll get half with pineapples and half without," Seokjin compromises. "How does that sound?"

"Abominable," you mutter under your breath. If there are pineapples anywhere on the pizza, every slice will still have that disgusting tangy taste to it.

"Sorry?"

"I-I mean, that sounds great!" you feign an over-enthused look on your face as you pump your fist in the air. "But you're paying."

Seokjin rolls his eyes but agrees.

And the rest of the time spent goes rather smoothly. The two of you poke fun at each other as usual, and you only mildly get offended when Seokjin pulls the:

"Hey, Y/N?"

"Mm?" you say with your mouth stuffed with pizza (you never thought New York-style pizza could beat the Californian-style but here you are).

"I need to ask you one more thing before we wrap up and I walk you to your dorm," he says, handing you a napkin when you finally swallow your food.

"Thanks," you say. "Ask away."

"I've always wondered," Seokjin says as he leans forward, resting his chin on his upright hand, "why do you excessively say the word, 'like?' "

You let out an unflattering yelp, almost choking on your own spit. Quickly, you take a sip of your ice-cold water to ease the scratchiness of your throat. "Like, what do you mean?" you manage to choke out after an embarrassingly awkward pause.

"I mean, I'm just curious why you say 'like' every five seconds," Jin says, cocking his head. "Is it a SoCal thing? Or a Y/N thing?"

"It is not a Y/N thing! Like a lot of other girls do this, I swear. And it's not like I wanna say it," you huff. "I guess it's like this kind of habit that I, like, can't really get rid of. I dunno. I've heard it was a SoCal thing, but like I'm not too sure."

"Five," Seokjin says.

"What?"

"You said 'like' five times in approximately fifteen seconds," Jin says. "That's about one 'like' every three seconds. That's quite a lot. And I take back my previous hypothesis in which I said you said 'like' every five seconds. I guess it was three."

"I literally hate you!" you scoff. "When did you get all mathematician with me?"

"Since I applied to NYU as a compsci major," Seokjin answers, "which was about three years ago."

You huff. "Whatever I'm gonna major in, I hope it's not related to math."

"Come to think of it," Jin hums, "I never got to know your major." He brushes the pizza crumbs off from his hands and stands up to toss the used napkins away in a nearby trash can.

You stand up as well, taking up the pizza box as Seokjin guides you out of the pizza parlor. "I'm undecided," you tell him. "Like I really don't know what I want to do."

"Well, you're an undergrad, so you'll find something you'll like soon," Jin assures you. "You've got time."

"Thanks," you smile. "Honestly, you're the GOAT."

"Excuse me, I'm a what?" Seokjin looks mildly offended.

"The GOAT?" you say. "You're not even in your thirties yet, keep up!"

"A goat??" Jin bellows. "A fucking barn animal??"

You want to facepalm but your hands are occupied with the pizza box. "The Greatest Of All Time???" When Seokjin still looks puzzled, you shake your head, "Might wanna check out Twitter now and then, old man."

"Maybe that's a California thing!" Jin protests. "It's totally a California thing. I mean, look, Y/N, New Yorkers aren't that crazy to go around calling people barn animals."

"New Yorkers are definitely crazier than Californians," you say. "Oh, and we have to cross the street soon, my dorm's close."

"No way in hell we're crazier than you," Seokjin snorts. "C'mon we can cross the street here."

The here that Seokjin's refers to is a street full of cars and no pedestrian crossing. "Are you really suggesting that we jaywalk?" you say incredulously. "This just proves my point further!"

"What?? Jaywalking is normal," he argues. "Plus, it saves time. We New Yorkers are busy!"

"Puh-lease," you say. "You won't be so busy when you're dead," you point out. "There was this girl who went to my high school, right? And like one day we all heard that she died after some stupid car hit her when she was jaywalking. Dude, her boyfriend's still mourning her death. I think his name was Taehyun. Or Daehyung. Or Taehyung? I don't remember. But my point is," you pause dramatically, "that I don't want to die so we should not jaywalk."

"Californians are way too laid back," Seokjin sighs. "Fine!" He throws his hands into the air. "We'll find a crosswalk, then. I'll spare your life."

You giggle, nudging him to the side. "Thank you. Chivalry is not dead."

"Shivering is definitely not dead either," Jin jokes. "It's only sixty degrees, Y/N. And you're wearing a whole coat! Do you really need me to give you my jacket?"

"Oh shut up," you say, hugging the warm pizza box closer to your chest. "New York at night is freezing. Like I still haven't gotten used to it. And no, I don't need your jacket," you scoff, upturning your nose away from Jin.

"Fine, but if you become a frozen popsicle, I'm selling you off to a museum."

"Wow," you deadpan. "I rescind what I said earlier. You are not the GOAT. You are the WOAT."

"I don't have to be a genius to understand what that acronym is," Jin snorts. "And I am not the worst of all time. That's Jungkook. You know, he brought in his Tinder date again yesterday and they've been really, really loud in the bedroom. I can't fucking sleep."

"Oh, poor Jinnie," you coo. "What are you gonna do?"

"I just blasted the Baby Shark song yesterday on my speaker and they stopped on their own," he shrugs. "It's an instant turn-off, apparently."

"That's evil!" you cry. "But so genius."

"I know, I know," Jin laughs. "Any more song suggestions to prevent Jungkook from banging at the craziest hours of the night?"

"Hm..." you say. "What about the Winx Club theme song? Or the Pokémon theme song? Or, oh my god, like what about the Sofia the First theme song???"

"What the fuck are the Winx Club and Sofia the First?" Jin says.

"No way," you say, shivering slightly when a gust of wind decides to torment you and your hair. Pulling the strands of your hair from your mouth, you yell, "You're missing out! I grew up with the Winx Club! And I only watched Sofia the First because my younger sister liked it so much."

"You have a younger sister?" Seokjin asks. "Well, figures. I'm an only child so the only things I watched as a kid were Transformers and the Avengers." He snorts. "Maybe a little bit of Pokémon."

"Dude, I could name all 151 Pokémon from Generation I," you say. "I was obsessed."

"Oh yeah? I can name all 807!" Seokjin declares. "Every one of them from Generation I to VII."

"God, you have me beat," you giggle, shrugging your shoulders. “I thought you watched only a little bit of Pokémon!” 

“Maybe I just have a fantastic memory,” Seokjin teases.

You roll your eyes, though you’re grinning uncontrollably. Sighing, you turn to a stop in front of your dorm building, holding out the pizza box for Jin to take. "Oh, wow, what do you know? We're already here."

"That went by quickly," Jin laughs, taking the pizza box. "Time always flies quickly with you."

You don't know if he really meant the last part, but you blush an embarrassing color of fire-engine red of which you hope he can't see because of the darkness.

"I agree," you admit. "I had fun. And thanks for the pizza. New York-style reigns over what I'm used to back in California."

"No problem," Seokjin grins fondly at you. "Guess I'll see you around?"

"Yeah," you smile. "Just text me whenever Jungkook's being too loud on his sexscapades. I'll send some good turn-off music recommendations like right away!"

Seokjin laughs, nodding his head in agreement. "I can't wait."

I can't wait either.

Your crush on Seokjin literally amplifies by tenfolds every time you hang out with him, which is quite often these days.

One "date" with Jin had turned into two. Two turned into three. Then, five, then eight. Now you're seventeen "dates" in, you and Jin have yet to define your relationship with each other. But you suppose you don't mind.

It isn't very often that you're so emotionally attracted to someone. I mean, how long has it been since I liked someone before I had sex with them??

But your relationship with Seokjin is special, and you're willing to drag on these "dates" (at least you hope they're dates) if it means that you and he will eventually become a couple. Unless Seokjin's not attracted to you in that way.

But that's crazy. Who isn't attracted to you in that way?? Okay, maybe a lot of guys. But you've always had a sixth sense when it came to men! Usually, you crush on the same ones that like you back. So maybe something could really blossom out of your current relationship with Kim Seokjin.

Unless he friendzoned you the moment he heard you have sex with Jungkook.

You are in quite a dilemma.

Two weeks later, your dilemma has extended from your love life to your academic life. There is pressure from your parents and peers to choose a major—especially since you've already lasted one semester in college already.

You have to start studying for the final exams as well. And everything is driving you nuts.

You've always considered going to med school, but law school doesn't sound so bad either. You have to choose your majors according to what job you want to have in the future, but you don't know what you want to do at all! You're just really good at doing what you're given to do. So, honestly, if someone pulled a random major from a hat, you could probably take it and do something with it.

Hm. That idea doesn't sound that bad.

You end up FaceTiming Seokjin for guidance.

"Well, you look like you haven't gotten sleep," he comments when he sees your dark circles and frenzied hair.

"I need to choose a major," you tell him immediately. "Like, right now. In the next twenty minutes or I'm going to blow."

"Oh, shit. How can I help?"

"Okay, so I made this huge list of NYU's majors and like all you have to do is randomly scroll through the list and pick one!" you say. "Easy! Whatever you pick, I'll do it!"

Seokjin scrunches his face. "I don't think that's a good idea, Y/N. What if I pick something insane? Like bagpiping? Or mining?"

You roll your eyes. "I don't think NYU even has those majors. C'mon pick one, hurry up! I'll close my eyes. Tell me when you're done."

Seokjin looks at the long list of majors you had sent him, shaking his head at you in disbelief. He doesn't want you potentially ruining your future because he picked a shitty major for you. And you looked pretty serious about this idea too. As if the moment Seokjin chose a major, you'd pick it and run with it.

Jin's not going to jeopardize your future like that. He doesn't even have to look at the list to declare what he thinks would be best for you. (And besides, if you didn't like it, you could always change majors... And if you couldn't change majors, you can't really blame it on him because you made him choose randomly. So it would be your fault. So either way he's immune!)

"I landed on business management," Seokjin says. "You can open your eyes."

Your eyes are wide the moment you open them. "Management?" you gasp. For a second, Seokjin thinks you're going to throw a tantrum, but a huge grin erupts on your face. "Oh my god! Management! Why didn't I think of that before?? It's perfect! Thank you, Jin! Thank you so much! You're literally fucking magical."

Seokjin's almost taken aback by your positive response but he plays along with it rather coolly. "I am pretty fucking magical. You're welcome."

"You just reduced my stress levels by fifty percent," you say, sighing as you fall back on your bed. "I still have to study for all my final exams... Not very fun... You know, back in California, if I ever felt stressed out or something, I'd, like, drive to the beach for a fun day with friends."

Seokjin cracks a smile. "Yeah, well we have sewage water here in New York. You can swim in there if you miss the beach so much."

"Sounds appetizing," you deadpan. "One day, I'm going to take you to SoCal and show you the beaches."

"That honestly sounds great, Y/N," Jin says. "Never been to the beach before."

Your jaw drops open in shock. "No fucking way, Jin. No fucking way."

"Well, you never saw snow before until you came to New York," Jin points out.

"Yikes," you mutter. "Touché."

Seokjin smiles fondly at you before shaking out of his little reverie. "Hey, you have to study, right? I'll stop bothering you."

"Oh, please," you laugh. "You're not bothering me. I feel even better now. Not even a beach trip could elate me to this extent."

And it's true. Just talking to Seokjin for a few minutes dissipates all of your pent-up stress. And you have one less problem to worry about—you finally have an idea about what major you want to pursue! Seokjin is a walking miracle.

Maybe after your exams, you'll have to ask him out on an official date. If you don't chicken out, that is.

It is officially summer!

You've maintained your straight A's, have finally decided your major and even found a part-time job at a local thrift shop. Life is great.

It would've been better though if one, it wasn't so fucking cold during May and two if you were dating Seokjin.

Jungkook's been teasing you about how head-over-heels whipped you are for Jin, but you threaten to hack into JK's Tinder account and lock an unflattering photo of him on his profile picture whenever his teasing becomes extremely annoying. It's so strange that you've been stuck on one crush for nearly eight months now since usually, you have a new 'boy toy' every other week.

Seokjin is special.

So special that you literally gave up your hookups. And sex. You also deleted your Tinder account. You are serious about this man.

There's something about him that makes your insides twist in a funny way and your heart feel warm and fuzzy whenever he texts you. Have you mentioned how attentive to your needs he is? The man's a genius gift-giver! On your birthday (April 4th), he bought you an embroidered double-sided jacket that not only made a bold fashion statement but also kept you warm in the abominable New York weather.

God, you might even love this man.

You should confess to him soon before some other girl snatches him. But it seems as if Seokjin has stopped going on dates, and the only girl he actively hangs out with is you. (You had to ask Jungkook to figure that out.)

So maybe you have a chance.

And today is the day to act upon it.

Seokjin promised to take you out on a walk around Central Park after you finished your shift at the thrift shop. He's eagerly waiting with a warm cup of hot chocolate for you by the time you're finished.

"Hey!" you say, beaming. "Thanks for the drink."

"No problem," Seokjin answers, winking at you before sipping his own ice coffee. "Central Park's about forty minutes away from here. Are you up for the walk?"

"I walked around a lot in California so maybe I should ask you if you're up for the walk," you smile, strutting out of the shop with Jin quickly at your heels.

"Where's there to walk in California??" he asks when he catches up to you.

"Oh my god, Jin. You're forgetting about all the cool shit in LA!" you say. "I walked to Urth Cafe like every day after school with my friends. And then like we'd have these photoshoots on Melrose Avenue... Man, sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I went to UCLA."

"You got accepted into UCLA??"

"Yeah," you say sheepishly. "I'm kind of glad I didn't go, though." You would’ve never met Seokjin.

"Oh?" Seokjin laughs. "Are you finally getting accustomed to New York, then?"

"No way," you say, shaking your head fervidly. "Dude, do you not see the jacket I'm wearing right now? It's freezing! And you're wearing a short-sleeve shirt!"

"It's the jacket I bought you!" Jin exclaims, smiling. "Well, the weather here's something you gotta get used to. By the time you graduate, though, you'll be fine."

"I hope so," you say. "I really, really hope so."

"But I mean, other than the weather situation, I feel like New York is your home now," Jin says. "You like the people here, at least, right?" He bats his eyelashes flirtatiously and you roll your eyes, though the butterflies in your stomach wake up from their slumber. "How have your Tinder dates been?"

"Oh, uh..." You awkwardly scratch your head. "I deleted my account."

Seokjin laughs out loud. "Oh no! Were the New York guys not cutting it??"

You flush, biting your lip and twiddling with your fingers. He kinda put you on the spot, here. Maybe you should come clean now...? You originally planned to confess at Central Park, but maybe it’s smarter to confess earlier. (That way, if he feels the same you two can have your official first date at Central Park. And if he doesn't feel the same way, the two of you can go home before visiting Central Park to avoid awkwardness. It's a master plan!)

"Well, I wouldn't know," you shrug coolly. "The only New York guy I had sex with turned out to be a Californian dude in disguise," you giggle. "And... I just didn't find the need to get with other guys."

"Oh?" Seokjin smiles amusedly. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Like, I don't know," you sigh. Your head is jumbled with words you've recited and also the words that you just thought of to string together. Your chest feels heavy and your stomach twists in knots but you force yourself to follow through. With a deep breath you let it all out: "I guess like I've had a teensy weensy crush on you since like the moment we met," you start slowly, carefully. "And I'd uh, I'd like to officially date you, if you, like, feel the same way as me..." you trail off, looking at Seokjin to figure out if his initial reaction would give away his true feelings toward you.

But to your utmost relief, he grins. That's a good sign—it has to be!

"Y/N..." he smiles. "Five. Again! In twenty seconds this time! One 'like' in every four seconds. You're slowly getting rid of your SoCal dialect, look at that!"

When Seokjin sees the unamused look on your face, he throws his head back and laughs. "I was just teasing you, love," he says. "You know, I deleted Bumble the day I met you in person?"

"Really?" you squeal, turning to Jin with such high velocity that you almost spill your hot chocolate. Your insides melt, and your head repeatedly echoes the way he had called you 'love.' You feel faint.

"Yeah," Jin says. "So we're official, aren't we?"

"Hell yes!" you say.

"Our first date is at Central Park," Jin laughs. "This was the best timing ever. It's even in the summer. You know, when everyone scrambles to find love. We don't have to look anymore!"

You snort, linking your arms together and leaning onto Seokjin���who just now became your boyfriend. "I still can't fucking believe it's summer," you sigh, shaking your head. "Like dude, it's so fucking cold that I'm drinking hot chocolate!"

"Oh!" Seokjin exclaims. "Right! The hot chocolate?"

"What?"

"Open the lid, please," he grins. "A pleasant surprise will be waiting for you."

Carefully, you do as he says, only to find the white cream on the hot chocolate to be shaped into a sort-of mangled heart. You gasp, staring at the heart in utter shock. "Were you going to ask me out today??"

"You beat me to it," Jin laughs. "Saved me the trouble, love."

The butterflies in your stomach flutter about every time he calls you that (which was only two times so far, but still).

"We're really meant to be, then," you giggle.

"Like, we really are."

Seokjin taught you many things. How to be a good New Yorker without even being a native. How to hail a taxi gracefully. How to get a seat on the Subway. How to order the best pizza pie ever. And most of all, he taught you commitment.

Never have you been this committed to a man in all your life. That being said, you've only lived for nineteen years. But then again, it's hard to change your habits of being finicky with guys in your high school years. Yet they're changed now.

You've said goodbye to Tinder, to hookups, to meaningless sex. You've said hello to your boyfriend, to continue your pursuit of business management, to navigate around New York.

July becomes your favorite month quite easily when you realize it is possible for New York to have hot weather too. You bring out your short skirts and tank tops and have a fashion show every day choosing which outfits to wear. (Seokjin becomes your personal outfit-picker against his will.)

You have to say, New York isn't so bad. You haven't really missed California at all for a while.

"You know," you tell your boyfriend as he braids your hair for you so you can complete your outfit of the day with a stylish, “effortless” side braid.

"Hm?" Jin answers, his tongue peeking out of his lips from hard concentration.

"I think I'm getting used to this place," you say, turning around to smile at your boyfriend.

Seokjin laughs, tying your braid in place before leaning in to kiss your lips. "Finally!" he says between small pecks. "It took you awhile."

"Oh, come on. It didn't take me that long. It hasn't even been a year yet!" you protest. "I love New York. Honestly!"

Your boyfriend smiles. "When do you think you'll start to talk in a New York accent?"

"Never!" you say. "I'm keeping my 'likes' and 'dudes,' thank you! I have to keep some part of my Californian self."

"Oh, trust me," Seokjin snorts. "You will never lose the fashion-crazed part of you. Please don't make me fly on a plane to go to Coachella."

"Damn, you know me too well," you huff. "Fine. No Coachella. But I want to take you down Hollywood one day. Or at least Urth Cafe. No, holy shit, I need to take you to the beach! Or In-N-Out! There are so many places to go in LA! I'll be the best tour guide ever, Jin!"

"Aw, love," Seokjin says, nuzzling your nose against his. "I can't wait for my tour in the Golden State with my native Californian girlfriend."

"I can't wait either!" you giggle, kissing his lips while placing your hands against his soft cheeks. "I had the wonderful experience of getting my own, personal native New Yorker tour guide, so it's only fair I let you on a tour around my home state too!"

"We'll go during winter break, how's that?" Seokjin says. "We can celebrate Christmas in California."

You grin. "It'll be a tropical Christmas. You up for that?"

"I'm down!" Seokjin says. "I've never lived through a hot winter before. I'll have to see all the rave about California myself."

You wink at him. "You'll love it. Like, really, really love it."

"If I don't, you have to try pineapple pizza pie," Seokjin says. "Bet."

"Oh, you're on!"

All too soon, summer is over and the fall season creeps upon you and the rest of New York City. The freezin' season is back and ready to haunt you and turn your mornings into motherfucking abominations.

Except, it's not as cold as you last remember it. Maybe this year's winter in New York will be warmer for whatever reason. Or maybe it's because Seokjin always does a great job of keeping you warm when it's cold. (You definitely think the latter is the true answer.)

Because with Seokjin, even waking up on Mondays at 8 in the cold fucking morning isn't so abominable after all.

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