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andkisses · 6 months

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♡ roman holiday | sunghoon ♡

will this bucket list trip be the thing that finally forces you to face your feelings? or will it be the thing that tears the two of you apart for good?

♡ sunghoon x gn!reader | wc. 9.4k ♡ genres/tropes: childhood friends to lovers and the fluff and angst that comes with it, college!au (not obvious but implied), road trips ♡ mentions of/warnings: arguments, references to a toxic family environment, allusions to drowning, i think that’s all but lmk if there’s smth else that needs added! ♡ a/n: this has been a wip for SOO long we’re talking YEARS and has changed muses several times but i finally sat down to finish this and im so proud of what i managed <3 truly some of my favorite things ive ever written ! inspired by roman holiday by halsey! this is also the longest thing i think i have ever written <3

♡ masterlist ♡

The coffee ring on the counter stares back at you, warm brown against a stark egg white. You can’t tell if it’s old or new, and part of you doesn’t care. Another part wants to know, though, when the coffee stain was made and why it was never cleaned. The motel is practically empty, the older lady behind the front desk and a tired-looking family in the corner of the dining room are the only other inhabitants.

Through the windows, dressed quaintly with homesewn drapes, you see the tall mountain trees, dark green and prickly, stretching up to the crystal blue sky. The television across the room is set to the weather station, and the anchor talks about how a cold front could potentially lead to an early snow.

A tray with various breakfast items clunks against the table, and the boy you’ve been traveling with settles in across from you, faux leather chair seat squeaking beneath in subtle “I’m hardly ever used” protest. His dark hair falls into his eyes messily, as if he only just now got up and rolled out of bed. The red flannel and vest he wears matches the surroundings, but looks absurd on your best friend.

“Sunghoon,” you start, interlacing your fingers and resting your chin on the bridge they form. Your eyes scan the tray, accounting each and every tiny portion of food. Eggs, both scrambled and hard boiled, some toast with an assortment of little jam containers, a little bowl of butter, two pancakes, half a waffle, and a few strips of bacon. “Thank you for getting everything,” you continue, leveling a stare over the top of your nose, “but you forgot the syrup.”

The boy in front of you blinks, bites his lips, and nods his head. A soft yeah, I forgot the syrup escapes his lips as he slides out of his chair, the pleather squeaking once again. “Give me like two minutes,” he says, “the breakfast bar is crazy to navigate. Do you see the things I do for you?” His smile is teasing.

“It’s no problem, Hoon—” Your voice trails off as he jogs off into the distance. You shake your head, feeling lethargic and sleepy beneath the slow-turning ceiling fan. Your gaze follows its metallic clink, and the fan seems as if it’s never been replaced in the 50-something years this establishment has operated.

You’re brought back down by a small tug on your sleeve, and when you look, it’s the little girl from the tired family across the room. She blinks up at you, not much unlike Sunghoon, innocent and full of curiosity. You nod your head, encouraging her to talk. The little girl takes a big gulp of air, dual pigtails bobbing, before, “I think your boyfriend is very nice and I like how he gets you your breakfast.”

The laugh that leaves you is easy, the statement hardly shocking at all. You’re used to it, strangers and acquaintances alike assuming the relationship status between the two of you. It’s nothing new. The little girl’s face is confused, her head listing to one side. You nod again, swallowing any additional laughter. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you reply, and you see a little bit of the light in her eyes diminish. “We’re just really good friends. He’s my best friend, actually.”

The girl’s brows furrowed together, a small pout forming on her lips. Obviously not the answer she was expecting. Then she nods, lips pursed. “Yeah, okay,” she mutters, seeming confused. Before she turns to walk back to her family, she looks back up and adds, “He’s a good friend. I would keep him as my friend for a long time.”

“That’s what I intend on doing, kiddo.” Your voice is quiet as the little girl skips back across the old, faded carpet towards her family. You see Sunghoon emerge from the breakfast bar, where everyone else at this motel must be. He waves small packets of syrup in the air. The smile that flits across your face is fleeting. You try to ignore, again, this feeling in your chest. Your voice is small, talking to yourself. “For as long as possible.”

***

The candy-colored Valentine stared back at you, practically mocking you. Third grade and only one Valentine. You tried to fight back the tears, attempted to sniff them back inside, but nothing worked. They fell, one by one, onto the homemade card, soaking through the pink construction paper and leaving roundly-shaped wet splotches across your only card.

You read the simple message, “Happy Valentine’s! – Sunghoon”, over and over and over again. You racked your brain, trying to figure out why, why, why no one else gave you a card. You were nice, you offered to help them when they needed it. It seemed like everyone liked you. They even let you sit by them at lunch.

So why?

The hand on your shoulder startled you, your head whipping up to face the figure standing beside the desk. It was Sunghoon, the boy who gave you the only Valentine in your possession. The edges of his dark hair curled around his eyebrows and the corners of his eyes. His brow scrunched with worry, and he ducked down to see your face.

“Are you okay?”

You shook your head, a bitter pout filling out your lips. “Does it look like I’m okay?”

Sunghoon shrugged, removing his hand to pull out the seat beside you. “I guess not.” He pursed his lips, hands clasped in his lap, before looking back at you. “What’s the matter?”

You flung the single Valentine—his own Valentine—back at him. The construction paper flew through the air before catching, floating down to land on the table by Sunghoon, who deftly picked it up and turned it over in his hands.

“It’s the only one you got?”

You nodded, crossing your arms on your desk and sinking into them. A heavy sigh left your chest and you sniffled, trying to keep the angry tears from falling again. You wished the day would end; that the bell would ring and release you so you could go home and cry somewhere comfier instead.

There was silence, then, “Does it matter if you only got one?”

You scoffed, still hidden in your arms. “Uh, duh? It means no one in this class likes me.”

“Then… why does it matter if everyone else doesn’t like you? Shouldn’t one person liking you be okay?”

You bit your lip. You can’t tell if you like his thinking or not. You decided not to respond.

You heard the chair scrape against the wood floor beside you, and you figured it was Sunghoon leaving to return to the other students. That was fine, you figured. It’s what you should expect, anyway. Even if he was the only one who gave you a Valentine, it was probably only because he gave the whole class Valentine’s. What a guy.

Then the chair was drug against the floor again, much closer this time. You popped your head up, a scowl still on your face, to see what was happening. Sunghoon had scooted it closer, and in his hands was another Valentine. You watched as he flipped the card over to the decorated side and skillfully pulled off the foam heart-shaped sticker, as if he’d had to do this thousands of times before.

His question is one you didn’t expect. “Where do you want to go?”

You look up at him, incredulous. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if you don’t have many friends here, you must want to be somewhere else?” Sunghoon shrugged, as if the thought made perfect sense to him. “Right?”

You pursed your lips, mimicking his shrug. “I guess you’re right...”

“Then,” Sunghoon began again, “where do you want to go?”

“Uhm, my house?” you answered. Crying on your fluffy bed would be much more comfortable than crying on this hard desk. Your arms were sore from resting on the edge and your back was stiff from the awkward angle.

Sunghoon shook his head. “No, think bigger. Like, vacation places and stuff.”

“Hmm... then, maybe, the big cities? The ones you always see in TV shows. And... the beach, because the ocean is really nice.”

Sunghoon nodded, diligently taking note of every place you suggested. His handwriting is a little crooked, but it fit on the now vacant front of a Valentine’s card. He looked up at you, eyes wide with question. “Anywhere else?”

You frowned, deep in thought. Then, as if someone tapped you on the shoulder and whispered it in your ear, an idea sprung to mind. “A really tall mountain, where it’s snowy all the time. No matter the season”

The pencil lead pulled across the paper, leaving information behind. Sunghoon returned to the top of the page, tapping the pencil’s eraser on the side of his cheek before scribbling a final note down. “There! It’s finished!” He slid it over in front of you.

You read the title of the list aloud: “The Wanderlist? But that isn’t even a word.”

Sunghoon shook his head. “It is now.” He leaned over, pointing at all the places you had stated. “And that’s everywhere we’re gonna go, because I’m your best friend now. We won’t be lonely, because we have each other. And we’re gonna travel all over.”

You sat up, leveling him a stare. “Well, this is gonna be expensive, you know. Trips aren’t free. They cost a lot.”

Sunghoon smiled, the kind that, even for a tin moment, makes everything seem like it’s possible. “Then we better start saving now!”

***

The pink paper stares up at you from its place on the dashboard, stuck with a random sticker right next to the air vent. The edges had aged, curling and warping, and your tear stains from 3rd grade are still faintly visible. You read over the list—your wanderlist, as Sunghoon had named it all those years ago.

1. Big cities (because TV) x2!!

2. The beach (because cool ocean)

3. Tall mountain (because always snow)

The big city had been marked off in 6th grade, when the class had a trip to the modern art museum, and again in 8th grade for a series of school-wide competitions, from writing and art to band to mathematics and science. Sunghoon had excelled at creative writing while you swept the math category for your region.

The beach was crossed off the day before the two of you left for college. How bitter it was that you had to be separated, together for ten years only to be settled in two different places. Yes, you weren’t that far away. A half day’s drive. But you both knew, deep down, how likely seeing each other was.

So you did something about it. The day before, you woke up before the sun. You loaded his car up with everything you would need for a daytrip, and you took off for the coast. You spent the whole day, afternoon, and evening parked at a spot on the beach. If you think about it now, you can still smell the seabreeze, imagine it in your hair. You can hear Sunghoon’s laugh, about what, you can’t remember. You do remember how happy you both were.

You remember sitting side by side, sharing a blanket over your shoulders as the seabreeze grew colder, watching the sun disappear on the horizon. You remember the thoughts you had–the ones you normally stamped down and annoyed. You should tell him. You’d been so close before. You wouldn’t even say the word to yourself, but you knew.

You didn’t say anything

“Can you believe these clouds?” Sunghoon says, slipping into the driver's seat and shutting the door. He places his keys into the ignition and turns like he always had. You watch the keychain you got him freshman year of high school swing from momentum. When you look back up, Sunghoon is watching you, leaning one elbow on the center console, hair in his eyes. “I suppose even the weather believes my sunny disposition is more than enough.”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, smacking his shoulder. You turn to look out the window, biting your lip. You’ve got to get it together. You blame that little girl from breakfast. You’d been doing just fine not thinking about Sunghoon in That Way. Now here you were, all these stupid feelings drummed up.

It doesn’t help that Sunghoon pulls out a cassette–MT-PSH-5–and pops it into the player. His smile grows wide as he turns out of the parking lot and onto the road, heading further up the mountain. “Nothing like some classic tunes.”

It was dumb. It didn’t mean anything.

It’s all you can think about.

Sneaking out late, hot summer heat still sticky and oppressing. You could feel the waves rise up from the concrete as it finally felt relief in the moonlight. You’d felt like dressing up, sneaking into your mother’s room and applying her fancy department store perfume to the nape of your neck. Your fingers gracefully found her pearls in the glass bowl on the dresser as you left, and you pulled them over your head, letting them rest against your collar bone. They’re still cool against your hot skin.

You escaped through the back patio, walking past the fist-sized hole in the drywall you wished you could forget about. The dusty edges kept raining down debris if someone walked too close to it. You let yourself out the gate in the fence, pulling it shut behind you. You felt for the keys to the front door in your pocket, and they jingled in response. You clasped your hand around the cool metal, the cuts sharp and edgy beneath your palm.

He met you at the corner of his street and yours, his dark hair swallowing up the soft moonlight. It made his features seem younger, softer. It felt like you were kids again.

You fell in line beside each other, walking the empty streets without fear. Who was to stop some teenagers walking the street at midnight? Random cars passed by, people finally returning home from the late shift but paying no mind to you two. And that was fine; you didn’t want them to care.

The black gates around the community pool glinted in the yellow streetlights, reaching out to you like a beacon. The closer you drew, the more the overwhelming scent of chlorine filled the air. You walked forward, hands in your jacket pockets, one wrapped tightly around your house keys. You took a deep, steadying breath. This was fine. You had this.

“Hey, [Y/N], do we really have to do this?”

You rolled your eyes, pulling your hands from your pockets and grabbing the top of the fence. You’d have to pull yourself up, and be extra careful of the metal pickets at the top. It’d be tough, but you could make it. “What?” you snapped back lightly, voice echoing amongst the night. “Scared of hopping the fence?”

“No, that’d be ridiculous,” Sunghoon replied, crossing his arms and shifting his weight to rest on one foot. “Jumping fences is nothing for me. Jumping fences into property that—” he pointed to a white and red sign just beside your knees. “—considers jumping fences into property after hours as illegal and trespassing? That sets me on edge.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes again. “It’s not like they’ve got police roaming around or anything, and the owner’s too cheap for security cameras. I’m sure if we tried hard enough, we could just pull the fence down instead of having to jump it.” For emphasis, you grabbed hold of the rods and shook. A loud metallic echo escaped into the night, and before you could pull back and shake a third time, Sunghoon had dashed to your side, placing his hands on yours to stop you.

His brown eyes caught the light as he shook his head back and forth and hissed, “If you’re going to do something illegal, do it quietly! Especially when I’m here.”

You leaned forward, head inching towards his, with a scowl on your face. “Then shut up and hop the fence.” You drew back, replacing your hands at the top and pulled yourself up and over with ease. Maybe mandatory PE did have benefits.. Your sneakers landed on the pavement, and when you stood upright from the landing, you stared at Sunghoon through the bars. “You can either join me,” you began, a smirk on your face, chin tilted up, “or you could just wait while I go and find my car keys.”

You turned on your heels, walking towards the lifeguard’s shack. You could have sworn the sigh you heard was strong enough to blow the fence down altogether

Your shoes scuffed against the concrete, and you felt the humid air of the pool spill over and try to reach out to you. Its arms clung and bit at your ankles as the water inside sloshed around with the teasing wind. You shook them off, changing course from the pool’s edge to the guard’s shack. The padlock on the door seemed old—really old—and you crossed your fingers before giving a giant tug and having it pop open in your hands.

The wooden door swung open and you stepped inside the dingy shack. Various lost pool toys littered the floor, and a box of deflated tricolor beach balls appeared to have seen better days. But you weren’t interested in any of that: you needed your car keys. Above you, nestled nearly at the top of the peaked roof was a loft filled with white plastic bins. One of them, you noted, was closer to the edge than the others, as if someone had lazily swung it up there.

You crossed your fingers again, reaching up to pull the basket down to you. “Please be there, please be there, please be there,” you chanted under your breath. You peered into the basket. On top, someone’s embroidered handkerchief. You pinched the soft material between your finger and thumb before tossing it aside in the basket. Someone’s crazy straw, two Rubik’s Cubes, a school ID lanyard, and—yes!

You fished your car keys out with one hand and swung the basket back up into the loft with the other. You turned to leave, ready to find Sunghoon, reunite with your car, and drive home, but before you can even take a single step back out you’ve run into something.

Or someone.

Your scream’s instantly shushed by your best friend, a single finger coming up against your lips. Sunghoon was so close, and you felt the pool humidity roll off his shoulders as he looked at you with confusion. “Are you done?” he asked. “And why are you screaming?”

You shook your head, holding up your keys. “Yes. Also, you scared me. How did you get in here? I didn’t think you’d hop the fence.”

“Didn’t have to.” Sunghoon held up a matching padlock to the one you’d pulled off outside. “Looks like the owner’s too cheap to buy actual locks for his gates. I simply walked in.”

You left the lifeguard’s shack, replacing the lock and headed for the entrance, where Sunghoon easily swung open the wrought iron gate. You walked towards your car as Sunghoon redid the lock, simply looping it through and clicking it shut.

You kissed your car keys and unlocked the doors, swinging down into the driver’s seat. Sunghoon slid into the passenger seat beside you, and as soon as his door shut, the engine was starting and you were pulling out of the parking spot.

“Let a guy put on his seatbelt first?” Sunghoon joked as he clicked his into place. “I don’t see you wearing yours, [Y/N].”

“Then you’re not looking close enough,” you replied, taking one hand off the wheel to pull at your own seatbelt. “Seems as if someone isn’t paying attention.”

“Forgive me, I was busy making sure no one saw our illegal activity. I would like to graduate high school next year with a clean record.”

You laughed something similar to a scoff as you flicked on your turn signal and made your way down his street. “You say that as if we robbed a bank. Is it really trespassing if the locks don’t even work? The wind could have undone them.” You turned to catch a glance at your friend, and what you caught was a judgmental glare in the green glow of the dashboard.

With a simple curve of the steering wheel, you pulled in front of his house. You shifted the car in park and rotated towards the passenger seat. “Thanks for breaking the law with me, Sunghoon. It means a lot. I’m touched.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He leaned towards the door, making as if to pull the handle and open it, when he reached inside his pocket. His eyes lit up and he turned back towards you. “Oh, yeah!”

You shook your head, confused. You hold a single hand up. “Oh, yeah, what?”

“Here’s that mixtape you wanted,” Sunghoon answers, placing a cassette tape in your unintentionally outstretched hand. You scowled. You didn’t know how he had the technology to make a cassette in this day and age, but then again, you were the one with a car so old it still had a cassette player. You two were a pair, you supposed.

“When did you finish it?” you asked, spinning it around in your hands. The clear, Sharpie handwriting read MT-PSH-5 on the short white label.

“This morning,” he replied, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“Why didn’t you give it to me earlier, then?” You turn to look at him. The yellow glow of the streetlights blend in with the green of the dashboard lights. His eyes remained that entrancing brown color, though. Romantic and homey all at once, untouchable by any other shade.

Sunghoon shrugged. “Perhaps it was because you didn’t have a car to play it in when I finished it? It was unavailable to you, shall we say.”

“Ha, ha, very funny.” You kept turning the cassette in your hands, as if you’d find something new and exciting on each turn.

“Oh, and—” Sunghoon leaned across the center console, reaching to take the tape from your hands, like he had something to say or show you. But he stopped. His brows furrowed together, and he turned to you, face mere inches from your own. “Are you wearing perfume?”

You nodded. “Yeah. My mom’s, and I got mad at her since she got mad at me about the car so I...”

An eyebrow quirked up. “You’re showing your mom up by stealing some of her perfume?”

“It’s expensive,” you muttered, sliding down into your seat. “She’ll have to pay for it later. Literally.”

And with that, he laughed. Nice and hearty and his eyes turned into tiny crescent moons and you felt your heart flutter—something that had happened a lot as of late, and you’re not entirely sure why. Yes, Sunghoon was a good friend. A best friend. But that’s all he was. He—

“Hey.” Your attention snapped from a distance spot on the road over to him, and he felt even closer now for some reason. Your heart registered how soft he’d spoken and proceeded to beat faster because of it. His eyes searched yours, but for what you don’t know. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “Make sure you get home safe, okay? Wouldn’t want anything happening to the city’s greatest delinquent.”

“Yeah,” you laughed, but it was short and stilted. You barely heard what he said over the thumping of your own blood in your ears. You felt the red flush creep up your neck, dusting your cheeks and turning your ears a cherry color. When you swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry, all you could think about was how loud it seemed. Your grip on the mixtape tightened, it seemingly the only thing tethering you to the real world.

You couldn’t tell if the radio was one or not or whether you’d turned car off and left the keys in the ignition. All you could tell was Sunghoon, so close and so real he almost seemed unreal. And then it happened. He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut before placing a soft kiss on the side of your cheek, right next to your lips. It happened too fast and it was the slowest moment of your life all at once. Your heart was practically screaming now, hands rattling around the mixtape.

When he pulled back, he kept going, opening the car door and stepping out. Before closing it, he leaned in and nodded. “I meant what I said about getting back safely. Promise?”

You nodded. “I promise.” You were surprised your voice worked at all. That you were able to form a coherent, albeit a simplistic, sentence. That you could think at all. The door swung shut and you shifted the car into drive.

The whole way home felt automatic, limbs working separate from your internal instructions. When you returned home, you pulled up beside your mailbox and turned the car off, pulling the keys and letting them rest in your hand. You sat motionless, seatbelt still in place, as you stared, eyes fixated at someone mindless spot on the dashboard. The pearls were cool against your heated skin.

It was dumb. It didn’t mean anything.

It’s all you can think about.

You flip the mixtape over in your hands, reading the slightly-faded yet still legible handwriting. MT-HVC-5. You’d run through the songs already, and Sunghoon had switched to some CD mixes he had brought. Why he didn’t get a car with Bluetooth, something you’d done a while ago, you’d never know. Maybe that was part of his charm.

You’d managed to learn to forget about that kiss, or at least ignore it. But Sunghoon pulling out the mixtape he’d given you that night pulls it back up to the surface. You aren’t even sure how it even got into his possession. The longer you recall the memory, the more you can feel the burn on your cheek from where his warm lips touched your skin. The rest of the flush comes back from how you wish so badly it would happen again.

“What’s up?”

“Huh?” You turn towards his voice, away from the window.

“I asked what’s up,” Sunghoon repeats, looking over at you for a split second before returning to the road. “You seem like we’re on another planet.”

“Just thinking about when we were younger, you know...” Did he? What did you want him to think about? The day you’ve been obsessing over? And then what would he do about it? Pull over and confess? Kiss you, but mean it this time?

Sunghoon laughs, breaking your thoughts. He spares another quick glance in your direction. “Younger like what? Like third grade or two days ago?”

You reach across the center console to smack his shoulder. “Why would it be two days ago?”

“We were younger then. Wild, foolish.” Sunghoon takes one hand off the wheel and places his knuckles on his forehead. “The way we were is actually unimaginable now.”

“I’m done with you.”

Sunghoon scoffs. “Sure you are.” A quick beat, a hum to the music. “Anyway, what were you thinking about?”

You’re quiet for a moment. Then, “Do you think we'll change?”

“We have changed.”

“Really?” He said it so simply, it takes you off guard. You turn to look at him, even though you know he’ll keep his eyes glued safely to the road.

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “We’ve totally changed. We don't like the same kinds of music as the old us used to. We don't eat mac and cheese for every conceivable meal—except for the day after that one chem exam.”

“That final was hard!” You reach across the center console to shove at his shoulder–oh, god, why do you keep finding ways to put your hands on him?–earning a smug grin. “None of it was covered in class and you know it!”

“See what I mean?” Sunghoon asks. “We're different, but like, a good different. We’ve adapted.”

The silence that fills the car after isn’t weighty or overbearing. It’s comfortable and common, safe like a child-loved security blanket. Yet, somehow, your stomach fills with stones of dread, and all you want to do is sleep off any bad feelings.

You keep your eyes trained ahead, the curving mountain road, when you ask, “Do you ever think we'll be bad different?

Sunghoon spares a confused glance at you, brows knit together as he switches focus between you and the road. He shakes his head. “No, not us. Never us.”

“Is that a promise?”

The hand closest to you leaves the steering wheel and drifts over the center console, pinky out. “Always.”

You wrap your pinky around his, and try to ignore the heated flush you feel creeping up your neck and the backs of your ears. You focus, instead, on how real Sunghoon feels. How solid the mixtape is in your hands. How, here out in what feels like the middle of nowhere surrounded by evergreens and roadside snow piles that have started to pop up and tall mountain views, time doesn’t feel like it can get you.

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe, out here, there’s only good different.

Maybe, that’s all you need.

The clouds from the morning have turned darker, more potent. You can smell rain in the air, hear it as the wind rushes through the trees. It’s so cold though, you wonder if it will snow instead. The mountain weather you’d been looking forward to for so long.

Sunghoon knocks his shoulder into yours, cheeks pink from the cold. He swings your duffle bag towards you, letting go of the strap before you’ve gotten a good grip on it. “Your luggage,” he declares, before marching towards the hotel entrance.

You’d both decided, with your combined measly college student incomes, that wherever the last hotel would be, it needed to be the best you could afford. Standing in front of it now, styled like a fancy chateau with white walls and a red roof, you think the two of you made the right choice.

You had forgot what made such a nice place so affordable, until Sunghoon swipes the key, opens the door for you, gesturing for you to walk in first. The room is cute and delicate, with pretty yet aged wainscotting, petite floral wallpaper, a nice view of the surrounding mountains and–

And one bed.

You freeze. You can’t help it. Maybe the you from this morning, before that girl talked to you, could handle this. The you of right now? The lady at the front desk calling you a cute couple, and Sunghoon going along with it and not correcting her, didn’t help. You aren’t sure if you’re strong enough to keep everything the same.

“Rats,” Sunghoon says, and you breathe a sigh of relief. He’s not cool with this either, you think. He turns toward you with a coy smile. “I’m gonna go back downstairs and ask for more pillows. Three simply won’t cut it. Want me to ask for some fancy water?”

You shake your head, voice gone, and you don’t move until you hear the door shut behind Sunghoon.

And that’s when it starts, as you drag your feet in circles trying to think your way through this. Your hands clench and unclench, fists forming so tightly you leave half-moons from your nails in the fleshy part of your palm. Your breath comes ragged and shallow, and you feel like drowning, except from too much instead of not enough. Too many memories reminding you of too many things. Too many emotions leading to too many feelings you neither want to recognize or acknowledge.

But one keeps pushing its way to the forefront, demanding attention and definition. The one that’s been bothering you all day. It makes you dizzy, to the point you feel you need to lay down and clutch at your stomach. Maybe that’s it, you think as you sit on the edge of the one bed. You’re just sick. Breakfast was bad. But you know it’s not. It makes you angry, because how dare you feel this way about him. It makes you flustered, since you shouldn't look at your best friend's face and have your gaze wander to his lips and wonder what they'd feel like against yours.

It makes you happy, so undeniably happy that you feel like crying, because it feels so right. When you allow yourself to think more about it, and imagine what life would be like if you were able to confirm and agree with all the strangers who already think you’re dating. Lovers. It fills you up with breaths of fresh air to the point it's like floating on cotton clouds.

It makes you fearful. Its dark side claws at your heart, threatening to tear at the tender seams and leave you bloody and raw, so intensely damaged you're afraid of doing anything along the same lines. You had asked about a bad different, and Sunghoon said it wasn’t possible. Right now, you feel like you have to disagree–confessing this? Altering the relationship you’ve carefully crafted for so long?

That would be a bad different.

That’s why, when Sunghoon comes back, three more pillows and a bottle of sparkling water, you don’t answer. You roll over on the bed, curling up away from him, hiding with a pillow on your head. You hear Sunghoon say something about it being a long drive, and he gets it, you should rest. You hear him open the closet door, then feel the spare blanket get draped over you.

And, as you lay here, hot silent tears threatening to spill over and run down your cheeks, you let yourself think about it. You're in love with your best friend. Your nail-bitten palms come to swipe at your eyes, you make the mistake of sniffing aloud. Sunghoon calls your name, and you hate how much you savor the worry in his voice.

But, it’s also too much. He can’t know, you decide. Not now, not ever. That is what would be best, you decide, for the two of you. To be able to get through the rest of this trip.

“[Y/N], what is it?” he calls again. Sunghoon’s voice is laced with care, something tender and soft and so distinctly him it pulls at the tears in your eyes. How can he make this so unfair? “What's wrong?”

“You wouldn't understand,” you snap, pulling yourself to sit up, the pillow falling off. You don’t look at him, but instead at your hands, fists in your lap. Sunghoon easily notes your posture, and confusion floods his features. You hate how quickly he can figure out something’s wrong, that something is bothering you.

“Can I try to understand, at least?” You look up at him, lips pursed, tears smarting your eyes. You take him in–turned towards you in the chair, sitting on the edge, like he can jump to your rescue at any time. The confused look in his eyes hurts—you've always been straightforward with one another. But you know you can’t about this. “I can’t try to fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

You shake your head, wiping one of your cheeks with your fingers, a half laugh falling from your lips. “No, Hoon it's—”

“No.”

The force of the single word hits you, and it hurts more than the angry look in his eye.

He stands, takes a step toward you, then sits hesitantly on the edge of the bed. He's close, and he's been closer, but it's still too much. The rushing sound is back in your ears and your heart pounds against your ribs, telling you to do something, anything, but you stay still.

“Hoon—”

“I said no, [Y/N].” Sunghoon’s words are ice, colder than the breeze outside and sharper than butcher knives. His eyes, once warm and homey, that romantic shade of brown you love, are now dark and piercing. “You don't get to call me special names when you aren't telling me what's wrong. When you aren't acting like the [Y/N] I've known since third grade.” His hands come up to run through his hair, and it flips slowly back into place. His voice drops, the softer, confused Sunghoon returning. “You've been acting weird this whole trip, and especially since this morning. It's driving me insane that I can't figure it out and fix it. I know you better than this.”

He's so close, so, so close. Much too close. Somehow he’s scooted towards you on the bed. You can smell his cologne—when did he start doing that? Why hadn’t you noticed earlier? His eyes are back to the romantic brown, the warm and homey color, the ones that remind you of so many good memories—his eyes are so pretty. Your gaze follows its past patterns and drops to his lips, redder from being gnawed on with worry. A kiss would—

A shaky breath leaves you, and you're talking before you realize, voice so small it's hard to hear. But Sunghoon is listening. He always does.

You blink. “Do you want to know what's wrong?”

“Of course. I need to know if I can do anything or—”

“It's you.”

You want to be upset, angry. How dare it come to this. But you can’t, you realize. You can’t be angry at him. Whatever energy you had coursing through your veins leaves after your pseudo confession, and you turn away, resting your weight on the headboard, hoping he’ll go away.

This, for certain, was bad different. You can feel it, weighing you down. Here, in a chilly, single bed hotel room, you’d ruined everything. Your brain told you to shut up, to be quiet, to try and save anything you could manage from this shattering relationship. But your mouth—or maybe your heart—kept going, and going, and going.

“It’s you,” you repeat, turning back towards him. He’s still there, frozen in place, face filled with concern. “It’s everything you do. The way you... you tell me bad jokes when I’m upset over a grade or make me mixtapes because you want to share your music with me. It’s–I’m–I’m sick of it. I hate it. I hate you”

Sunghoon recoils, eyes wide. He looks around the room, as if the answers to what to say are hidden around. He stands, backing up without turning away, like you’re something he has to keep his eyes on or he’ll get hurt again.

Again.

Sunghoon’s voice is flat when he speaks, like he’s out of breath. Shaky, like he’s about to cry, too. What have you done? “I’m… I’ll go downstairs and ask about if there’s anything nice around for dinner. I’ll–I’ll wait for you in the lobby. Whenever you’re ready, you know.”

Even now, after the nasty things–after I hate you left your lips–he’s still trying to make peace with you.

What did you do to ever deserve him?

And would he even stay with you once you return home?

The door falling shut is what starts your tears again. You slump down off the bed, between it and the window. You pull your knees up to your chest, put your head in your hands, and you cry.

***

It still isn’t over.

You’re breathing heavy, tears still stinging your eyes, but you aren’t sure if you’ve actually cried yet or not. Your fists are balled at your sides. Years of friendship are stuck in your throat, enough to make you want to scream or cry or vomit from the nauseous feeling it induces. The pouring rain, those clouds finally opening up, doesn’t help.

Dinner had been awful, awkward. The only person either of you talked to had been the waiter. You can’t remember what the food tasted like. You can’t remember what, if any, songs played on the radio on the way back. Sunghoon hadn’t bothered to pick anything out. All you could remember, or hear, or see in your head–I hate you. The look in his eyes. How he has barely looked at you since.

You aren’t sure what you have to do to get away, but you’d be willing to make a deal.

Anything to get away from this moment.

Anything to get away from your best friend.

Sunghoon stares at you like he’s only just now met you, and maybe he has. He’d stopped you halfway between the car and the hotel’s entrance, despite the rain. He’d called your name in such a way you froze. Your angered confession from earlier hangs in the air, untouched or acknowledged. A single parking lot light illuminates you two, dim yellow casting shadows through the rain.

“Do you mean that? What you said?” he asks, daring to step forward. You don’t move, anchored in place. By fear or something else, you aren’t sure. He takes another, then a third. The gap between you has been halved. “I know you don’t mean it. I’ve been thinking about it this whole time. You don’t mean it.”

“What makes you so sure?” you spit, taking a step closer in your upset. You level Sunghoon with a stare you hope is intimidating, bitter. You hope he sees the duress. You have to push him away. “I said what I said. I hate you, Park Sunghoon.”

The boy shakes his head, hair stuck to his forehead from the rain. He seems almost incredulous, and it angers you even more. Why doesn’t he get it? There’s a small smirk at the corners of his lips, but you’ve known him long enough to recognize it as mock confidence. “You didn’t mean what you said.”

“I did!” Another step, and now you’re nose to nose with him, staring into the eyes you’ve had memorized for so long, that romantic brown even in the rain and yellow streetlight. Your gaze betrays you and you drink in the slope of his nose, see how his eyes examine you as well. Note the downturn of his lips, almost unnoticeable. Your voice is weaker when you speak again. “I did mean it, Sunghoon.”

He leans in, closer and closer until he stops–a breath away from your lips. He freezes, closes his eyes, and waits.

And you cave, despite your best interests. You find yourself tilting your head and wishing he’d do something more. This can’t be how your first kiss with Sunghoon goes? When he pulls back, and you nearly stumble forward. You look up at him, and the smile on his face is no longer mock. You know what his question will be before he says it, and you know he’s caught you in your lie. “You hate me so much–why did you kiss me back?”

You want to spit back, I didn’t! You want to argue. But the truth is, ever since you’d remembered that day in high school, you’d been imagining what it would be like to actually kiss him, and again, and again. You wanted to know what kissing Sunghoon would be like, even if it meant redefining the relationship you worked so hard to keep as is. The one you said you hated him to protect.

Sunghoon gently cups the sides of your face, forcing you to look at him, and you see worry and concern etched into the space between his brows, spilt in the color of his eyes. “Tell me,” he whispers, voice almost breaking, “what’s wrong. Let me try to fix it.”

You shake your head, trying to form words to explain everything, but all you do is shiver drastically beneath his touch. You watch as Sunghoon’s eyes grow wide, and he leads you inside, arm over your shoulder. The woman at the front desks awards you a quirked eyebrow, but that’s all you get before she returns to her clipboard.

The room is icy cold when you return, but Sunghoon adjusts the temperature in silence. “You get dry first,” he says, pointing at the bathroom. “Take a shower and get warm.”

“But about you?” You want to point out the subtle shake in his hands, and the way his breath catches. “There’s not enough towels to share.”

“I’ll ask for more at the front desk. I’ll be fine. Go.”

The shower water never feels hot enough, but you do stop shivering. You do your best to towel dry your hair. When you peek the door open to see if he’s back, and if you could get your things, you see that Sunghoon has already done it for you. Everything you could need taken from your bag, folded and placed nicely right outside the door. You have no idea when he did it–you’re thankful he did.

When he comes back with extra towels–which, surely, did not take this long–you’re curled up on the bed, similar to before. You rest your weight on the headboard, looking out the window at how the rain patters against the glass. You wish you could see the stars.

Sunghoon is fast, but who’s to say? You aren’t exactly keeping track of time. You know he’s back because you feel the mattress shift. His voice is almost silent when he speaks. “Can we talk?”

“About what?” you ask, turning towards him. You haven’t seen Sunghoon look this tired in a while. And you know it’s your fault. “How I was mean to you?”

Sunghoon smiles, looking down at his clasped hands. He takes a moment to determine what he actually wants to say. “Let’s start with…what it is about me that made you say that?”

His eyes are pleading in the dark. The room is barely lit, the overhead light off. There’s just a lamp on the desk and the streetlight from outside. The rain sound is almost overwhelming in the silence. “If there’s something I’ve done that hurt you–”

“It’s not that. It’s–” You pause, trying to find the right thing to say. You decide to start with the obvious. “There’s a reason I kissed you outside.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because I’m charming and irresistible.”

“This is serious!” You do what you always do when he makes some kind of quip–you reach out to push his shoulder, scooting closer, but Sunghoon catches you by your wrist.

“I am serious. Do you know how much you hurt me when you said you hated me?” He levels you a stare, one that makes you want to shrink away, but you can’t. “When I left, I didn’t ask the front desk about restaurants. I went to my car and sat down and cried because the person I love just said they hated me.”

“You love me?”

“Not like that,” he corrects, and now you have to know what he means.

“Tell me how then.” You take your free hand and grab his other wrist, a mirror of what he’s done to you. “When you say you love me, what do you mean?”

“It’s not like you think, not like what it has been.” Sunghoon looks down, takes a deep breath, then carries on. “Not like friends, or like siblings, but like–”

“Lovers?” you offer.

Sunghoon swallows, sets his jaw. Then, “Yes. Like that. And I don’t know when it happened. I don’t know if it was overnight or gradual or all at once. I do know that I woke up one morning and I realized that I didn’t want to imagine my future with anyone else. And I didn’t want to see you with anyone else, either.”

“Kinda selfish,” you say.

Sunghoon laughs. “Yeah. I couldn’t help it.”

Somehow, you’ve both moved closer to each other. The knees of your crossed legs knock into each other. You still have a hold on the other’s wrist. Sunghoon levels you another stare. “Will you tell me why?”

“Why I said I hated you?” He nods, and you take a deep sigh. “Do you remember the night we snuck into the pool to get my car keys back?”

He nods again, a small smile on his face. “You mean the first night I got enough courage to kiss you? You looked so pretty, with the pearls and the perfume.”

You blush, hearing Sunghoon talk about you like that. “That night. I’ve been thinking a lot about it. And you know how all these people always say we look like a couple or whatever. And it all just stuck together and made me realize that I haven’t seen you like a friend in a long time. I’ve seen you like–”

“A lover?” Sunghoon offers, copying you from earlier.

You smile. “I said I hated you because I was afraid and overwhelmed, and I need you away from me. I thought that if you hated me, I could get over you and just move on. We could make up, and I wouldn’t have these feelings anymore, and we could go back to being friends.

“But if I’m being honest,” you add, moving even closer. Your shoulders knock into one other. “Even though it wasn’t even that long, those hours over dinner just now were some of the worst things I have ever had to do. I was ugly to you, Sunghoon, and you’re the last person on earth who would ever deserve to be talked to that way. But if you could forgive me, I…”

You try to look down again, but Sunghoon lets go of your wrist to place a finger under your chin, tipping your head up to his gaze. “You what?”

“I love you. I’m in love with you, I’ve been in love with you. I love you, Park Sunghoon.” You take a deep breath, just as lightning strikes somewhere far away and the thunder rumbles through the room.

Sunghoon reaches out for you, his hands reach cupping your face again. It’s the most reverent you’ve ever seen him. His eyes roam over your every feature, as if you’ll break if he breathes too hard. It’s thrilling. “Genuinely?” he asks, voice fragile. “You love me?”

“Yes,” you whisper. It feels wrong to be too loud right now, like someone else could join in this moment between the two of you. “And if you would have me, I’d like to love you for a long time after this.”

Sunghoon pulls you to him, resting your forehead against his. He takes a deep breath. Then, “We’ve both just been really, really stupid about it, haven’t we?”

You laugh, savoring his touch and his warm and his smile. You stare into his eyes, those romantic brown ones you love so much. “I guess so.”

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and your heart jumps. “I know we did outside, but that’s a terrible story for a first kiss.”

“And the one from so long ago doesn’t count, because you just gave me a kiss then,” you say, not sure why you’re rambling when you have the opportunity to just kiss him already.

So, you shut up, and you do.

This kiss is reverent, unlike any that came before. You probably shouldn’t even bother comparing them. Maybe it’s the intentions behind the kiss—that you both want to be here, doing this, for the sake of just being, not proving. Maybe it’s because it hasn’t followed any dramatic late night outings or arguments. Maybe, it’s how you shiver closer to his frame, hands on his shoulders, and his own find the small of your back. You feel his smile against your lips, and the butterflies against your ribs.

Maybe, you should have said something a while ago. You could have avoided the whole I hate you stint, but then would anything else have been dramatic? Some couples are like puzzle pieces, perfectly fitting together with no stress. And maybe you two are a puzzle, one that fits together with ease, but you both intentionally hid pieces from the other, making it difficult to complete. Maybe airing grievances is the only way to get all the pieces back on the table.

You sigh as Sunghoon’s lips travel from your own down the line of your jaw, tickling in a delightful way. You feel safe in his arms, a safe you’ve always felt, but now it feels like something more, something even greater. Your heart jumps, and you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him close. Sunghoon instinctively holds you tighter, his hands against your shoulder blades.

“What is it?” he asks.

You shake your head, finding any words to be incredibly difficult. “I’m just—I’m glad.”

Sunghoon pulls back gently, quirking his head to one side as he looks at you. He uses the pad of his thumb to gently wipe away a stray tear. “Glad for what?” he asks, still cupping your cheek.

You lean into his touch, feeling dizzy with excitement and relief. “Glad that it’s you,” you say, your voice quiet. You lean in, placing a chaste kiss against his lips and, for once, he’s the one to shiver. “I’m glad you’re the one I love. Glad we’re here now, finally.”

Sunghoon pauses. His eyes dart between yours, your lips, and back. He rests his forehead on yours again, and you can already imagine getting used to this, and craving it when you can’t have it. “I waited so long, and I didn’t even know if...” There’s a catch in his voice, and he sounds like he’s about to cry. When he opens his eyes, there’s an honesty to them, a gaze you’ve only seen in Sunghoon’s eyes a handful of times. He smiles, his eyes going soft once more, like you are the most beautiful thing he has ever beheld. And to him, you are. “I always knew we were meant to be.”

***

The lady behind the desk did, in fact, look at you two like you were crazy. The night before you were acting like you were gonna tear each other to pieces. But now you’re walking out in each other’s arms? His around your shoulder, yours around his waist?

The sun is out, and there’s hardly any evidence of the downpour from last night. Maybe the earth needed to be just as dramatic as the two of you.

With the luggage in back, you two climb into the front seats. Sunghoon leans over the center console to press a kiss to your temple, just like he did when you woke up in each other’s arms and just like he did when he insisted on getting you whatever you wanted for breakfast.

“That’s not something new though?” you laugh, as he brings you small portions of everything the hotel had to offer. “You did this before.”

“Well, it’s obviously different now,” he replies. “I didn’t get to kiss you before.”

Now, Sunghoon taps at the Valentine heart on the dash–your wanderlist. What started this all. “We need a new one,” he says. “It took us a while, but we did everything on here. Should the new one be full of cringey couple things?”

“Only if you’d like to go back to being single.”

Sunghoon fakes shock as he shifts the car into gear. “You wouldn’t.”

This time, you lean over to give him a kiss, and you relish how quickly he blushes. “You’re right, I wouldn’t.” You sit back down, still turned towards him, hand atop his. “Maybe, we make the list up as we go. I mean, we’ve never been here before.”

“Didn’t stop third grade us,” he says. “Honestly, they seemed like they had everything together. We should think more like third grade us.”

“You mean complaining about how much things cost? Because I can think of so many things we could do together that would put major dents in our wallets.”

Sunghoon turns to you, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and you know you’ve got this right, even if it took a while to get here. He reaches over, poking your cheek, before turning out of the parking lot. “Then let’s go find it, together.”

#kdiarynet #kwritersworld #kflixnet #k-labels #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen scenarioes #enhypen imagines #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon headcanons #sunghoon scenarioes #sunghoon imagines #enhypen #fluff #angst #college!au #ftl

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desire-mona · 7 months

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abed headcanons because im autistic and bitches be projecting

big fan of deep pressure, has a weighted blanket but ideally someones putting all their body weight on top of him

can drive but hates it because its FUCKING BORIIIIINNNGGG

doesn't have a very expansive music taste, when he likes a song he listens to it on loop for weeks

has received the same novelty popcorn bucket as a gift 10+ times bc his relatives have no idea what to give him and just google "gifts for movie lovers"

britta offered him an edible one (1) total time and he got so overstimulated he passed out and slept for 15 hours

has ARFID and there's a list of his safe foods on the fridge in the trobedison apartment

has very sweaty hands. like if you high five him it'll splash. troy is used to it (cuz they hold hands) but if anyone else finds out theyre like AH OH GOD WHAT THE FUCK WHY ARE YOU DAMP

either loves or hates scott pilgrim vs. the world. i cant decide so neither can he.

reads the books that have movie adaptations bc dedication but doesn't have a great time

has a head jerk tic when he's cold (i have this too its very annoying)

"troy and abed in the mooooornin" vocal stim at random times

FFFFFUCKING LOVED trick or treating as a kid cuz the interactions were so cut and dry. "trick or treat" and "thank you". Perfect.

nobody is ever allowed to touch his feet. ever. under any circumstances.

lucid dreams basically every night but thinks thats just what Normal Dreaming is

got along very well with his teachers. "delight to have in class" energy

#1 sherpa hater, the most evil texture

always bites his nails bc the thought of long nails makes him wanna throw up

hate hate hates the smell of drool or saliva in general

compulsive hand washer, especially after touching a bad texture

has glasses but doesn't wear them. the feeling of anything on his face is Not Good

in the same vein, has a love hate relationship with headphones cuz they hurt his ears after a while

gets viscerally angry when someone says male gaze/ female gaze in reference to a real person. its a film term!!

has been told on many occasions that he has a "nice podcasting voice"

often pirates new movies because movie theatres are a nightmare but he will Pass Away if he hears spoilers

hhhhhhHHHHHAAAAAAATES opening gifts at parties cuz he has no idea how to react

shaves his legs bc if he feels hair against his pants he Will have a breakdown

wore the same pyjamas Every Single Night for a year as a kid

was a shorts year round kid in middle school

probably nonbinary but thats neither here nor there

#abed nadir #danny pudi #community #trobed #troy and abed #autism #he is so dear to me i need to eat him #if i cant be exactly like him i will make him exactly like me (in my mind)

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laresearchette · 2 years

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Saturday, October 08, 2022 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT? CURSED FRIENDS (Premiering on October 21 on Much at 10:00pm) THE DISAPPEARANCE OF CARI FARVER (TBD - Lifetime Canada) PUMPKIN EVERYTHING (TBD)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

CRAVE TV 44 CATS (Season 2, Episodes 1-52) MECHA BUILDERS (Season 1, Episodes 1-26) THE RACCOONS SPECIALS THE RACCOONS (Seasons 1-5) SESAME STREET (Season 52)

GRAND SLAM OF CURLING (SN360) 12:00pm: National - Women’s Quarterfinals (SN1/SN360) 4:00pm: National - Men’s Quarterfinals (SN 360) 8:00pm: National - Semifinals

MLB BASEBALL - WILD CARD GAMES (SN1) 12:00pm: Rays vs. Guardians - Game #2 (SN) 4:00pm: Mariners vs. Jays - Game #2 (SN) 7:30pm: Padres vs. Mets - Game #2 (SN1) 8:30pm: Phillies vs. Cardinals - Game #2

PRE-SEASON NHL HOCKEY (SN Now) 2:00pm: Predators vs. Sharks (TSN4) 7:00pm: Red Wings vs. Leafs (SN Now) 7:00pm: Devils vs. Bruins

WOMEN’S RUGBY WORLD CUP (TSN) 2:00pm: Match of the Day (TSN3) 7:30pm: United States vs. Italy (TSN/TSN3) 10:15pm: Japan vs. Canada

CFL FOOTBALL (TSN/TSN3/TSN5) 4:00pm: Lions vs. Argos (TSN/TSN5) 7:00pm: Elks vs. Blue Bombers

W5 (CTV) 7:00pm: Royal Retreat; Smoked

MLS SOCCER (TSN4) 7:30pm: CF Montreal vs. DC United (TSN/TSN4/TSN5) 10:00pm: Whitecaps FC vs. Austin

ABSOLUTELY CANADIAN (CBC) 8:00pm: Hodan's Story; The Photographer: Hodan Nalayeh returns to her birth country of Somalia to spread light; Faye Schulman survived the Nazis because she could operate a camera and became one of the only known Jewish partisan photographers of WWII.

CAPTAIN AMERICA: THE FIRST AVENGER (CTV) 8:00pm: After an experimental program turns him into a supersoldier, Steve Rogers (Chris Evans), now known as Captain America, leads the fight against Red Skull's evil HYDRA organization.

BIG FOOD BUCKET LIST (Food Network Canada) 8:00pm: Dutch Dutch Baby

YELLOWSTONE ROMANCE (W Network) 8:00pm: When Olivia learns her best friend intends to marry a breeder and leave the city, she decides to organize a bachelorette party at a ranch in the countryside. Fate soon strikes when Olivia finds herself falling for the owner of the ranch.

THE KILLER IN MY FAMILY (CTV Drama) 8:00pm/9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Fred and Rose West committed at least a dozen horrific murders over two decades. Fred's brother and niece reveal how his heinous crimes affected the family. In Episode Two, Richard Ramirez raped and tortured over 25 victims and killed over a dozen. His niece tells her story and reveals how his terrible crimes affected the family.

AN AUTUMN ROMANCE (Super Channel Heart & Home) 8:00pm: A woman tries to save a small, historic hotel from developers, but she soon realizes that the man she's falling for is behind the hotel's development plans.

SOUL ON ICE: PAST, PRESENT AND FUTURE (CBC) 9:00pm: The unknown contributions of black athletes in ice hockey.

SINS OF THE AMISH (Lifetime Canada) 9:00pm/10:15pm (SERIES PREMIERE): A group of Amish survivors and experts expose the private world of Plain communities and the abuse fueled by their customs; forbidden from engaging with outsiders, one brave survivor reports family members to the police, which culminates in a trial.

WOLF (Crave) 9:00pm: Believing he's a wolf trapped in a man's body, Jacob and his animal-bound peers undergo increasingly extreme forms of curative therapies. However, once he meets the mysterious Wildcat, their friendship blossoms into an undeniable infatuation.

ZERO CONTACT (Starz Canada) 9:00pm: Connected by their devotion to the late founder and tech titan Finley Hart, five people must work together to shut down his most secret invention, a machine that is either the solution to mankind's problems or the end of life on Earth.

THE RIGHTEOUS (Super Channel Fuse) 9:10pm: Grappling with grief and struggling with his faith, a man encounters an enigmatic stranger who has sinister intentions.

PICTURE PERFECT ROMANCE (Super Channel Heart & Home) 9:30pm: Zoey Ross gave up on love and her passion for wedding photography after her fiance, Todd, left her at the alter five years ago. When a childhood friend insists that she be their wedding photographer, she reluctantly accepts and finds herself again.

#cdntv #cancon #canadian tv #canadian tv listings #W5 #absolutely canadian #big food bucket list #curling #MLB Baseball #nhl hockey #women's rugby #cfl football #mls soccer

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ms-scarletwings · 7 months

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Endearing through the Alien Lens: A Clue About the Primitive Irken?

I love literary xenobiology. I love it a whole lot, in fact. There’s a paradoxical line I dance across, between criticizing intelligent fictional aliens for their likeness to our species, and criticizing them for their unlikeness. It’s a pretentious and laughable dance between “Come on, the sky’s the limit, there’s no real reason for a bucket of different extraterrestrial races to just all be more flavors of quirky humanoids! Boring, show me something actually alien!!” and the yearn for the use of alien races as a funhouse mirror of mankind’s own evolution. I think the way Irkens nonchalantly dwell somewhere on that subjective tightrope is a good part of why I can’t seem to stop thinking about them.

They are inspired and yet creatively original. They are truly alien, and yet, they can still play foil to the bottomlessly decadent humanity that Vasquez’s Earth has set the stage for.

Before, in the very first brain dump I let loose about them, I noted a few of their parallels to the worst in Homo sapiens and the insects they resemble. This time, something is chewing on me that i haven’t seen another put into perspective. A something that seems contradictory to our collective view of the heartless, sexless, atomized conquerors that all of the cosmos will fear:

They… have parental instincts.

I didn’t necessarily say drives or wants; however, they undeniably havewhat seems to be an actual, instinctual “cuteness response”. Like us, like social pack animals which invest a great deal of resources and time into their young. Given that the closest thing that 100% of smeets born on the home world get to call a parental figure is a literal cold, unfeeling, automated machine, this seems kind of weird, doesn’t it? They’re not even born like mammals or nested like birds, they’re mass produced, like hived wasps or ants, miles beneath their actual society and out of the business of the adults. So, what the heck with them being written to be humanized with this baseless, arbitrary trait?

But, ah ah ah, nitpicker Scarlet, it’s not baseless. It’s only ✨vestigial✨

Y’all could probably make a good guess to what the cuteness response is and why it exists in Homo sapiens, but to sum up- it’s the phenomenon of when we see something we find “cute” and it makes us react to it in a protective, nurturing fashion- or also want to bite/squeeze things, weirdly, if it’s just too damn cute. Well, what do humans find cute? Things that resemble human infants, basically. It’s a biological reflex that makes us want to defend and provide care for our kind’s absurdly dependent and slow-developing young, rather than abandon them in the shrubbery like they’re just screamy, food-leeching paperweights.

“Pff, really? Well I must be special cause I don’t even LIKE babies. I think babies are icky gross, not cute! So, genetic instinct my ass!”

I hear you, sure, but what about… harp seals? Or koalas, or pandas and puppies and fawns and kittens? Or funny little cartoon blorbos? At bare minimum you’d have to be an alien yourself to feel nothing looking at photos of young hedgehogs

See, the fact that a lot of us may often find baby animals a great amount more endearing than even humans’ is not even in conflict with this understanding of cuteness.

The concept of the “baby schema” was formally proposed in 1943 by Konrad Lorenz, an Austrian ethologist. Fun fact is he was also the same researcher who originally observed and described imprinting behaviors, as seen in newly hatched waterfowl. Point is that his “Kindchenschema” idea grouped together a handful of infantile traits that make fireworks go off in the parts of your brain that wants to keep things alive and baby-talk to them. Included on the list were features like proportionally large heads, big eyes, round faces, short noses, etc. despite the name, the baby schema’s effect is something applied not to just actual babies, but children generally, and even in our reactions to non-human animals.

It’s the hypothesis behind both why we’ve jacked up the skulls of so many small dog breeds in the name of aesthetics and why we generally find the portraits on the left side of this image more appealing to look at than the ones on the right.

The consistency of these features across many species may also give some hint that they experience a similar phenonemon, especially given that these are traits shared among bird or mammalian offspring which require significant attention and protection to survive. And, it may also explain why this image likewise gives me a huge dose of that sweet, sweet response.

Awww, look at that lil’ mans! Look at his teeny noodle arms!! I just wanna pinch him like a marshmallow!

YOU are not immune to cuteness psychology, and neither are the proud Irken warriors. I’m going to cite Zim’s proclivity to what I can only describe as paternal bonding as a demonstration of this response, but before you go reminding me about his pak defects, it’s far from the only evidence that this is a natural Irken trait.

Check out little Timmy (importantly, the surrounding response to him), a hilariously out of place youngster who appeared briefly in the trial transcript for the sole purpose of a dark gag and to get us some lore revealed.

Take further note of the complimentary nature of smeets themselves.

Suddenly finding themselves alive, fresh Irken babies too, like the hatched gosling, begin to immediately seek an emotional attachment with the first animate thing they see. While mobile and fast learners, smeets are far from being able to truly fend for themselves. They’re tiny and naive and they need lots of mental enrichment/teaching. They also play and form something akin to friendships, much like human children. In the bygone era before Irkens were so reliant on Paks and all of the advanced technology of the modern empire, smeets would have been exceedingly vulnerable. All signs point to a phase in Irk’s natural history where they were once nurtured after by adults of their own kind, and commonly bonded with their caretakers. This could mean compact family units, or maybe even a communal raising situation, akin to penguin crèches (Personally I like to headcanon that the tallests/queens were traditionally the only breeding members of the population but that’s neither here or now). Either sense, the evolutionary remnants of a parental creature are still around.

Taking all that to note, instead of perceiving Zim as the bizarre outlier to the Irken condition when it comes to having this soft spot, I instead see him as an opportunity to see natural behaviors in action without the suppression of his militarized society and its distractions. Even someone as warped and selfish as he can be is still very, very full of love to give that he doesn’t even understand enough language to describe. He pretty clearly shows he has no cultural understanding or reference of cuteness, and still, he’s not so different in this “weakness” than the very humans he manipulated into fawning over Ultra Peepi. It just took an example his own sensibilities could relate to instead of an unfamiliar, repulsive alien rodent.

And when he’s given the rare circumstance to show that potential, well-

*(With the rough shape/size down, no nose, and huge, bug-like eyes, Li’l Meat man may actually be a great approximation of the key “smeet schema” features. More importantly, it was made to specifically resemble Zim himself)

- I feel that’s downright adorable.

#invader zim #iz #iz headcanons #iz theory #irkens #iz comics #iz analysis #Li’l meat man #long post #scarlet talks about things #baby schema

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ghostboneswrites2 · 3 months

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A Mess || Part 6

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring everything here starting with this series since it was the most popular!

Summary: Daryl has a present. Reader is called on a run with Daryl and things take a turn for the worst.

18+ MDNI || WARNINGS: TWD typical violence, profanity

As Daryl wandered up and down the aisles, picking out random bits and pieces of clothing for Judith, he couldn't help but recall his last encounter with you. In spite of the awkwardness and general humiliation, he did notice the rubber soles of your shoes beginning to separate from the tarnished leather. He found his way over to the women's shoes. He happened to know you were the same size as Maggie, only because your boots were given to you by Maggie back at the farm when your old shoes fell apart. He knew her size because Glenn asked him to keep a lookout for her size the last time they were out looting clothes and shoes together. So, he picked up different pairs of sturdy looking boots and checked them for their sizes until he found a pair in your size.

They were gray Timberlands, so he knew they'd last you a good while. He dropped them in his duffel and moved on to find the other items on the list before he headed back to the prison.

He hid the shoes under his bed before he found Beth and Judith to give her all the clothes he found. Some of them were a little loose but it was better than nothing. Then he added all the nonperishable food he found -- which wasn't a whole lot -- to the stockpile of canned and packaged goods. He also had found a few knives and random ropes and construction supplies that he thought would be useful so he handed it all over to Hershel.

"These'll be good. Good job, Daryl." The old man nodded. Daryl nodded back and went to sit on his bunk for a while to unwind after his day.

It was late afternoon by then. You were hanging clothes to dry with Carol and Maggie, chatting about the layout of the future garden and where you could potentially build an enclosure and raise some livestock. Maggie had some good ideas with her own farming experience, and Carol's efficient thinking helped too, but you were mostly just there to crack jokes and point out the fact that the men never helped with laundry even though their soiled clothes always smelled the worst.

"Well, that's all of it for today." Carol sighed, clipping the last shirt up on the line.

"Thank God." You said, wiping some sweat from your eyes. "I think I need to shower. I smell like onions."

"I was wondering what that was." Maggie joked.

"I take credit for the onion stench but if it's garlic you're smelling, that's definitely Carol." You laughed.

"Um, excuse me? I'm a lady. I don't stink." Carol said, slapping your shoulder lightly.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Peletier." You shrugged.

You went inside and walked to the bathrooms. Irrigation hadn't been set up yet, but the barrel of water would do just fine for now. You grabbed a clean rag and stripped down, lathering it with soap and scrubbing the surface of your skin quickly. You dumped a little bucket of water over yourself before drying off and getting dressed. By then it was surely dinner time. You wondered what was on the menu.

When you made it back to the cellblock, people were eating some kind of stew out of a big pot. You grabbed yourself a bowl and dug in. Based on the plethora of rodents and woodland critters you had ingested over these last months, you reasoned that it must have been raccoon meat.

When you were done you cleaned up after yourself and went to your cell to retire for the night. You lit the candle on the little desk that came in all the cells and sighed. What you wouldn't give for a glass of wine and a good chick flick.

"Hey." A voice sounded from the entrance to your cell. You glanced over at the dirty hunter.

"Hey." You smiled.

"Got ya somethin'." He said.

"Oh?"

"Yeah." He nodded, pulling a band new pair of boots from behind his back. You walked over and grabbed them, examining them with excitement.

"How'd you know my size?" You asked with a grin.

"Same as Maggie." He shrugged.

"Wow." Was all you could say.

"Timberlands are good. Should last ya a while."

"Thank you." You said, setting them down by the bunk. "They're perfect."

You wondered if his weird shoe compliment had something to do with this.

"Goodnight." He said as he turned around.

"Wait." You said. He turned back to you. "Are you going out for a smoke? I'm not tired yet."

He shrugged. "I can."

"Okay. I'll meet you outside." You smiled.

You slid into your new shoes and went outside. The breeze was nice compared to the scorching daytime, and the sky was turning black with a thin orange line on the horizon. The stars would be out soon.

Daryl came out shortly after. He lit his cigarette and stood beside you, glancing up at the sky.

"Maybe tonight we can find the big dipper." You suggested.

"The little one ain't good enough for you?"

"Shut up." You nudged his arm. He glanced down at your shoes.

"They fit okay?" He asked. You nodded.

"Perfect." You assured him.

"Good. Store had a no return policy." He joked.

"Right. That's become a real problem these days."

"Greedy ass corporations. No respect for the workin' class." He shook his head.

"Why'd you get me these anyways?" You asked. He shrugged.

"Old ones looked like shit."

"So you didn't like them?" You raised your brows.

"I just.." He shrugged.

"It doesn't matter. Thanks again." You said. "You know, since you're feeling so generous lately, I could use some new underwear."

Daryl's suntanned skin drained of color. He could have seen a ghost with as pale as he got.

"You know," you pressed on. "I'm thinking something cute. Like lace and a pink bow."

"Shut up." He grumbled. He felt his ears getting warm as he tried to imagine literally anything else besides what you'd look like in lacey panties with a pink bow.

"No bow? You're right. That's too damsel-ish. Maybe a red--"

"Can you quit?" He snapped. "The hell's wrong with you?"

"Don't be such a prude. You act like you've never seen underwear."

"Why do I need'a know what kinda panties you wear?"

"Oh, trust me. You don't wanna know about my grannie panties. I'm talking about what kind of underwear I could wear. Not what I have on." You corrected.

"Grannie panties? What, like bloomers?"

You laughed.

"No, just oversized underwear." You clarified.

"The hell?" He mumbled to himself. What was your game here? What were you getting at?

"I'm just kidding." You shoved him. "Jeez, have you never seen underwear or am I just repulsive? Virgin behavior, Daryl. Not becoming on you."

"I ain't a virgin." He defended.

"What's your body count?" You asked.

"Body count?" He asked.

"Yeah, like.. You know. How many girls?"

"Oh." He thought for a moment. "I dunno."

"That many, huh?" You whistled. "A man of experience."

"Nah, it's just.. Only when I was drunk."

"Oh." You said. "I've only had one."

"One night stand?" He wondered.

"No, like, just one. Ever." You clarified.

"Oh."

It wasn't that he thought you were the type to get around, not that it would really matter anyways, but he was shocked that Shane was the only one.

"Were ya savin' it for marriage or somethin'?" He asked.

"Uh, no. Not really. Just never cared to be the girl in school with all the rumors after one encounter, ya know? And Shane, I married him right after high school. He was older than me but we got drunk one night and I ended up knocked up. That was my first time." You recalled.

"Y'all had a kid?"

"Almost." You lamented. "Lost it after the wedding. I think he just married me 'cause the thought it was right, with a kid on the way and all. But he just got stuck with me."

"'M sorry." He said quietly. You shrugged.

"Probably for the best." You shrugged, swallowing sadness. "Better than raising a kid and something bad happening. I couldn't move on like Carol did. She's strong. I don't know if I could be that strong. Shane dying, I mean, that sucks don't get me wrong, but it was over before that."

"Mm." He nodded.

"Wow, that took a dark turn." You tried to laugh it off. "Anyways, so you don't remember any of the girls you've been with? You never had a girlfriend?"

"I had one. In grade school. Her name was Willow."

"That doesn't count." You giggled.

"That was the only one. Mom died after that." He said.

"Oh." You nodded.

"Plus, nobody woulda stuck around with Merle's sorry ass and his dirty mouth."

"I'm sure someone would've. The right person wouldn't have walked away over that." You assured him.

"You must not remember my brother." He remarked.

"Oh, I do." You chuckled. "He's not the type you forget."

----

"(Y/N), do you mind tagging along with Daryl today? He’s gonna need an extra hand on this run.” Rick asked as he approached your cell. It was early. You were just starting to rub the crust out of your eyes when he asked.

You nodded and stretched your arms over your head. “Yeah, sure.”

“Alright, thanks. He’s heading out in fifteen.” He said as he walked away. You groaned. Fifteen minutes? You just woke up. You’d kill someone for an iced coffee these days.

Your bones creaked as you stood up off the cot. Your organs felt like they were filled with cement. You sipped water from the old cup you kept in your cell before slipping into some grungy jeans and a top. You finger combed your hair as quick as possible before throwing it into a pony tail and sliding into your new shoes. Ready as you’ll ever be.

A few minutes later, after sheathing your knives and checking your gun, you met Daryl by the front gate.

“Told ‘em I didn’t need no damn help.” He grumbled.

“Not a morning person, huh?” You croaked, voice still groggy.

“Mm.” He grunted. He opened the passenger side door for you before he walked around to the other side of the truck and got in. You got in and shut the door, leaning your head against the window with heavy tired eyes.

“How far?” You asked.

“‘Bout two hours.”

“Okay. I nap.” Was all you said. He chuckled silently, shaking his head as he started the ignition and shifted into gear. As soon as Carl pulled the gates open, the truck was rolling.

Daryl drove silently for an hour or so, sneaking little glances your way any chance he got. You really were sound asleep. The way your head was slumped made a little double chin, and you even snored a little until a random bump in the road would wake you in the slightest.

You were pretty, no matter how silly you looked. Especially nowadays. Without the stress or grief plastered all over your face, that fiery personality could really shine through.

His attention was drawn back to the road when the truck approached a herd of walkers blocking the street. He squinted to try and see how many there were but he couldn’t see through the dense sea of corpses all bouncing off of each other. He looked down at the map. This road was the only way to that town unless he turned around and took a detour that would add at least another two hours to the trip, taking you through another town.

You began to wake from the lack of vibrations from the moving car. You rubbed your eyes and looked around.

“What’s happening?” You asked.

“Damn road’s blocked.” He said. You looked at the walkers. Some of them began to take notice to the vehicle and stumbled in your direction. Daryl sighed and put the truck in reverse, making a three point turn until the vehicle faces the opposite direction.

He pulled the map over to you and pointed out the alternative route. “We can follow this road through this town. It’ll add time to the drive but we’ll get there.”

“Can’t you just run them over?” You whined. It amazed him how you could act like a child getting up for school, even with probably thirty jaw-snapping walkers behind you.

“Nah. Too risky.” He said as he shifted the stick back into gear and sped away. You huffed and leaned your head back on the seat. “Could keep sleepin’ if ya wanted.”

“The more I try to sleep the more tired I feel.” You admitted. He nodded.

“Best to just wake up when ya do.”

You didn’t respond. You were too groggy. You just stared out the window and watched the trees speed by.

Eventually the truck came to another stop. More walkers. You sighed.

“How?” You droned. “We just came from this way.”

“This one’s bigger.” He observed. The road was at a slight incline which gave you a bit of a vantage point to see how many were there. It was indeed a lot. You glanced at some movement in your rear view mirror.

“Uh.. Daryl?” You tapped his shoulder. “They followed us.”

He turned to look out of the back window and indeed the first herd was closing in.

“Fast sims of bitches.” He grumbled. You looked around. There were no turns to make.

“So what do we do?” You asked. The herd ahead of you had already taken notice to you, and the one behind would be closing in soon.

“Get your bag. We gotta go.” He said hurriedly. He slung his own bag over his shoulder and grabbed his bow. You got your bag and readied your gun. The two of you looked at each other. After a moment he nodded and you both threw the doors open and ran into the trees to the left of the truck.

He figured if you ran far enough you’d make it somewhere safe enough to ride out the herds that were about to merge.

You dodged the branches and trees as you followed behind him, barely taking the time to notice anything around you. You zeroed your vision on Daryl in an attempt to keep calm. You knew this man. He could survive anything. If anyone could keep you alive, it was him.

Your chest began to burn after some time, but you had to keep going. You could hear the groans and clumsy footsteps behind you. If you stopped for breath you’d be a meal.

So you just kept going, and going, and going. Thankfully there was a small tree house ahead with a rope ladder hanging down. Probably something a hunter built with how far from any kind of home or civilization it was.

As you approached, he urged you up the ladder first, following so close behind you that you could feel his breaths on the back of your legs. You periodically glanced down as you climbed. A few walkers had already made it to the tree, clawing upwards desperately for a bite of one of you.

When you made it to the tree house you climbed in on your belly, quickly moving aside for Daryl. He pulled the ladder up when he was inside, just in case one of those hungry assholes remembered how to climb.

You laid flat in your back, gasping for air as you caught your breath.

“Shit.” You breathed.

“If we stay quiet they’ll get bored and wander off.” He whispered.

“Thar many? You think they could push the tree over?”

“Nah. It’s sturdy.”

“What if they don’t leave?”

“They will. We just gotta wait.”

Masterlist || Taglist

#18+ content #twd daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl x female reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you

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seosracha · 4 months

Text

OUR SUMMER (PREVIEW) - jake sim x reader

PUBLISHED HERE! - link

SYNOPSIS- after 4 long years, this was the end. This was the last summer before everyone went off to university, and to fully honor it, you decide to make a bucket list, completing every point through the entirety of summer while also discovering feelings that were hidden for so long.

PAIRING- jake sim x fem!reader

GENRE- friends to lovers, summer romance, fluff, highschool/college students au, oneshot

WARNINGS- sexual jokes, alcohol use + more tba!

TAGLIST- open for anyone who's interested ! send me and ask to be added!

[...]

Heeseung chose a college in town, deciding to do pedagogics on the side while he still pursued his soccer career. Jay and Sunghoon also chose a college nearby, only one town away, that meaning the three of them would be around most of the time.

Jake on the other side had some sick ambitions. When he set his mind on UCLA, he did everything in his power to get in. And so he did. There was nothing wrong in that, but how could he leave them? How could he leave you?

"Let's make a bucket list" Jay said as all of you, plus your best friend, Yunjin, hogged the living room couch in Jake's house.

Another reason you didn't want Jake to leave. That damn couch. Everything in the 4 years of your friendship probably happened or started on that couch.

"We make one every summer" Heeseung said shoving some popcorn into his mouth "And always end up freestyling it" he added unclearly, hence all the food in his mouth.

"You're disgusting" Yunjin inquired, pointing out Heeseung's disgusting habit.

He just mumbled a 'fuck you' in response and shoved another handful into his mouth.

"But this summers different" Jay said, reminding you and everyone else once again that this was the last truly youthful summer your friend group would share.

You knew very well that everything would change when they go away to college. Obviously, they could come home for summer, but new friends, a buzzing, new, shiny social life were only a couple of reasons for them to not visit so often when summer comes around next year. The adult life they were about to step into was only gonna allow them to finally party all night long, go on roadtrips across the country and meet people who would show them the other side of life.

So Jay was right, this summer was different, cause it was the last one.

"I'm down" Jake said, grabbing a pen and paper from the drawer. He passed it to Jay, who wrote a big, and definitely sloppy, 'OUR SUMMER'.

"Skydiving" Sunghoon said excitedly, pitching in the first idea.

"You know damn well" Yunjin said "Let's make it a tiny bit more realistic" Sunghoon just furrowed his eyebrows and continued to put on his thinking face.

"Let's do a sleepover. You know, like the one's we'd do in our childhood. Blanket fort and all" you said, turning your face to Jay, as he was the designated leader for this bucket list making.

"I like that" Jake said, giving you a cheeky smile.

You'd rather he be rude towards you than give you all these weird signals. None of the guys would be as nice to you as he was. What man would agree with you on everything, bring you anything you wanted at any time, give you rides at the latest hours, handpick flowers for you on a random Wednesday and buy you things just because they reminded him of you if he didn't like you like that? Yet still, you were too slow to catch on.

"Sleepover. Blanket fort and all" Jay mumbled as he wrote down the first point to your list. "How about we drive down to that lake, get some beer, talk and shit?" he asked after he finished writing.

"With your wackass, dodgy looking fake ID, I'm guessing" Yunjin said, laughing.

"Give me some credit, it works every fucking time" Jay answered, pulling it out from his pocket.

"Okay James Blunderbuss, write it down" Heeseung, said examining the ID "Anton really did you dirty with that last name"

TO BE CONTINUED.........

#blessed☝️#OUR SUMMER -mail ☀️#jake sim #jake sim x reader #jake x reader #jake #enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff

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imustbenuts · 1 month

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kiryu is so smoll bean coded at times its hilarious. to elaborate:

kiryu, for whatever reason, is given to be 4 years younger than majima, effectively turning their relationship into a senpai-kouhai one from the start. this eventually becomes more big bro little bro relationship at the very least, and kiryu seems to asks his big bro (majima) for help who indulges too happily multiple times. (also theres the whole dropping cash bombs on kiryu thing. whats up with that)

in a similar vein, hes also got kashiwagi who behaves like a mentor and a older brother to him

y0 has him be 20. instead of saying nijyu-sai its hatachi and theres a whole idea that 20 is where adulthood starts proper. so he reads like a small bumbling kid trying to suss out his position in an adult yakuza world

y0 then has him getting chased down by yakuzas in a similar fashion to haruka and lani. and also his life was exchanged for 1 billion, haruka's was the 10 billion yen girl, and lani is uh probably the net worth of scientology or something.

him getting saved and set up by kazama's schemes so many times in y1 and y0. and then nominated for chairman position. for some reason (too smoll bean and has no desire for blood fame and power is my guess)

falls for scams. multiple times. punches his way out tho its ok

his hated food is green bell pepper. said to be one of the most commonly hated veggies by japanese children. usually invites a "are you a child?" comment when an adult doesnt eat their bell pepper over there. he continues hating this even up into y6 at the very least (havent found evidence in y8 its likely its still there)

goes full smoll bean mode in y8 where the yokohama party catches onto his sweet tooth quirk and accepts it without ever making fun of him. immediately. (in the bucket list cutscene with seonhee and nanba he immediately zeroes in on the tamago sushi (sweet) and wants to find out what sweets are popular with the youngins)

also you can have the yokohama party order strawberry deserts and trigger a table talk event where you can get kiryu to break up the sweetness by... ordering more strawberries

little bro vibe too strong

#kiryu kazuma #yakuza #rgg

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sugahbunni · 8 months

Text

BUCKET LIST ☆ 09

Saiki really wishes your bucket list did not consist of activities that required more than one person.

There he is, with you and sadly, one little kid with turquoise hair.

You smile bashfully at Saiki, you're holding Yuuta's hand and Saiki is holding his other hand. From another person's point of view, you look like a couple going on to the playground with your kid. Saiki has the picnic basket to his side, you three walk to a clear spot under the tree but it's still quite crowded. Which Saiki absolutely hates.

You smooth out the blanket across the trimmed grass, telling Yuuta he can go play on the playground since it's close by

"Thank you Cinnamon Bun!" He yells at you in excitement, kissing your hand then running off to the swings.

You snort, glancing at Saiki who's already shaking his head. Yuuta has been binge watching this new show that has been playing in the mornings on the weekends. When he first saw you this morning when you were walking by Saiki's house, it clicked in his head that you're indeed the character named Cinnamon Bun from his new show.

"How does he have so much energy, it's ten in the morning?" Saiki rubs his eyes, setting down the basket in the middle of the blanket.

"Tell me about it, he followed me all the way to your house in a hurry" You add a "heh" at the end of your sentence. Saiki is not sure if you found it funny or annoying, but he rather not ask. You both sit facing each other, the sun rays slightly shining through the trees.

"I made club sandwiches, oh I also cut up sausage and made fried rice. I bought hot sauce" You start bringing out food and condiment items out of the basket, showing them off to Saiki and explaining what they are.

Saiki could care less, truly, he was hoping he could get a day off from you since he's been spending the past three months with you. Since you're in his class, right next to him and Kaidou invited you to the friend group, he's seen your face in his dreams even!

Then being assigned to you as a partner for this damn bucket list project, he cannot just escape you can he?

You're fixing up the food, adding rice and shrimp to a plastic bowl and adding hot sauce to it. You pass it to Saiki, whose hoping the shrimp is cooked and not raw. He really does not want to experience food poisoning.

"You like hot sauce right? Oh jeez, I should have asked you before adding some huh?!" You grimace as if you're in pain, mentally punishing yourself for not asking Saiki.

"It's fine, Y/n".

You perk up your head at the sound of your name, placing a fork into the bed of rice and handing it to Saiki. You take out the digital camera and begin filming Saiki eating, zooming in dangerously close on his face.

"Bet you're tired of sticking around me" You say, waiting in anticipation and praying the pink haired boy does not agree.

"You're alright" He responds, digging into the food and cracking open a can of sprite. He ignores the fact that you're propping up the camera to show you both. He throws a peace sign at the camera, and you copy him right away. Then, you clap your hands together and take out a packet of four coffee jellies.

You can see Saiki's eyebrows rise in slight exhilaration, maybe? You unwrap the plastic surrounding the jelly containers, and pass one to Saiki.

He immediately dismisses the bowl of rice, scooping up a big piece of coffee goodness and munching on it.

The birds are chirping too loudly for your liking, but at least the sun is lazily shining through the trees and giving you some vitamin d. Which at this rate you truly need because the doctor told you yesterday that your vitamin intake is lowering, even though you take them everyday.

You also forget about the fact that Saiki can read your mind, at this moment he's focusing on trying to find a clear answer on what you are going through.

Illness or just a sickness? They really don't clarify what's wrong. He shakes his head in annoyance, wondering why you will not tell anyone about your condition.

He sees your cracking skinned knuckles, and your broken nails. Plus, you seem to be losing hair but its not so noticeable. Saiki just seems to notice more than anyone since he's been so focused on what's troubling you.

"So!" You exclaim, interrupting Saiki's contemplation. He snaps back into reality when he sees rice pieces hanging on the sides of your mouth. Hot sauce is also coating the outlines of your lips.

"You got.." He waves his finger at his own mouth, attempting to show you that you have something on your face.

"Huh? Oh, yeah oops". You wipe the rice away with a napkin, painting the white paper with red coloring and grains.

"This picnic of yours is on your list, right? I'd hate to waste your time" He asks, setting down the empty plastic that was once carrying the coffee jelly. You nod, pulling out the crumbled paper with color writing. You point at the sixth activity, clear letters spelling out "Cottage picnic!".

"Cottage?" Saiki asks with a mouthful of rice. You nod, quickly explaining how cottage seems to fit the aesthetic of a picnic.

Saiki blankly stares at you, his interest plummeting down the more you talk.

He hums at everything you say, the higher your voice gets, the higher pitch he hums.

"You're totally ignoring what I'm saying". Your loud smacking of lips catches his attention, he reads the label of the chips you're eating.

Double hot chips. XXTRA.

"Yeah, I gave up listening" Saiki speaks, his hand reaching for your chips. You willingly give him some to try out. He throws some in his mouth and nods, he seems quite satsfied with the outcome.

"So good, right?!". You continue snacking on them, watching over Yuuta who's killing some kid at the climbing wall.

"He's a handful" Saiki comments, putting away the plastic bowls and utensils into the basket.

You hum, mimicking how Saiki was doing it moments earlier. He notices this, raising an eyebrow at you in amusement.

"Am I handful?" You ask suddenly, propping yourself up on your elbow. Saiki shakes his head, as if it was a reflex. You hum again, not believing him at all.

"I feel like I can be a burden" You admit, your tone flat and low. A lightbulb goes off in Saiki's head.

Is Y/n finally going to talk about what's happening to them? He thinks to himself, leaning forward and patiently waiting for you to continue.

"Because jeez! I do eat alot of snacks right?! I feel like our friends always seem to buy snacks for me and I feel bad for it!".

Saiki's shoulders slump in disappointment at your chattering. He should've expected this, you will never straight up admit something is wrong.

Saiki reassures you that no one is forcing themselves to buy you snacks, they do it because they want to. He sees relief wash over you, and he's glad.

As you continue being a chatterbox, he starts thinking of methods on how to get you to talk about your illness.

And of course, nothing seems to work according to how stubborn you are.

He grabs the camera and presses the stop button, replaying back the footage of you sipping cherry coke. He makes sure you're not looking, and smiles gently at how loudly you drink.

You're quite a handful, Y/n.

☆

Saiki did not know what went through his mind when he asked you to hang out all night. More like a sleepover but he thinks that the word "sleepover" is too much of a friendly term. He hands you an t shirt of his and some basketball shorts that seem to fit you just fine.

"Woah, I'm transforming into Saiki. Good grief, good grief, what a pain, what a-" Your sentence comes to a halt as Saiki holds up a finger and goes "I don't say that so much".

"You totally do!" You burst out, stabbing your thumb into Saiki's ribs. He jerks away, sighing and taking out a sleeping bag from his closet. He's had sleepovers at his house of course, Kaidou and Nendou always called him up to arrange such things.

"Let's go downstairs, my parents should be asleep by now" Saiki insists, his body halfway out the room. You follow him willingly and into the kitchen, where all your snacks you bought from the gas station are.

"Jeez" You both say as you hover over the table full of mini soda cans, sour and sweet candy. Plus, a variety of chips. And don't forget the two tubs of ice cream in the fridge!

"Jinx, you owe me a soda" You pop open two cans of cherry coke, chugging one down and burping loudly.

Saiki holds up a finger to his mouth and shushes you. A soft "Sorry" comes out of you, sipping the other can and crushing the empty one.

"We have plenty of soda, why would I owe you one?" Saiki crosses his arms and starts eyeing the cheesy chips. The bag is practically calling his name so he rips it open, the cheesiness smell overwhelming but he likes it that way.

You offer him a can of sprite which seems to be his favorite.

You both sit next to each other at the dining table, ripping bags of chips and cookies. A tummy ache is bound to happen to you both but that doesn't seem to be a concern for either of you two.

Ever since Saiki found out you have a sweet tooth like him, he's been smothering you in snacks and shares his with you.

After minutes of desperately munching and heavy breathing, you lock eyes with Saiki. You immediately shift your eyes to the very interesting tub of double fudge brownie ice cream. Saiki brought it out after you began drinking the coke. Stabbing a fork into the frozen dessert, you scoop up a good amount of softness into your mouth. Saiki finds it odd how you use a fork to eat ice cream, but he also thinks you're unique in that way.

His stare examines the dark eyebags you've had for the past weeks. Along with the fading bruise on your nose from when he hit you with a ball in PE class. Why hasn't it gone away?

Saiki reaches out and brushes strands of hair out of your face.

"Your eyes .. look so tired" He whispers, his fingers still tucked into your hair. You hold up your hand to push away his wrist, but you end up grasping his fingers instead.

"Because I am" You mumble, holding his hand in place. Saiki's gaze flicker from your eyes to your hair, as if he's trying to decipher what comforting words he can say.

"Tell me what's wrong. I want you to be the one to tell me. I don't want to read your thoughts to find out what's wrong with you."

You stand up and step back, your bottom lip trembling as tears threaten to come out of your eyes.

"Nothing is wrong, I swear" You choke out, your throat becoming dry as every slow second passes. Saiki shakes his head, not buying what you are saying. He steps forward, placing his hand on top of your head.

He ruffles your hair a bit, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. You look up at him and see sympathy drawn on his expression, his words coming out delicately but you cannot focus on what he is saying.

Need to come up with an excuse ..

You stumble back and begin fanning yourself, all the stress he has caused is heating you up. Your shaky hands pull out a doctors note and you show it to Saiki.

"I'm just fatigued, which is why I'm always out in PE, g-got it?" You stutter, he carefully takes the crinkled note from you and reads it.

L/n Y/n has fatigue and may tire quickly, do not let them participate in PE as this can harm them.

Saiki crumbles up the paper and throws it across the room, stepping closer to you in apprehension. Now he seems really upset, his eyes glistening in worry. He exhales shakily.

"Tell me the truth please" He murmurs. You let out a nervous laugh, your hands covered in a light coat of sweat. You rack your brain, coming up with solutions on what to say.

You cannot burden your friends, can you?

"It's nothing, I promise" You say in a low tone, wiping your palm dry of wetness. Saiki hangs his head low, letting go of your wrist and placing his hands on his head in frustration.

"Okay, if you say so". Although, he is not convinced at all. I mean come on, the way you look and the way you act contradict.

He holds up his pinky, his gaze practically burning into you as he waits for you to link his pinky with yours.

"You promise me?" He softly speaks, knowing you take pinky promises very seriously so he knows something is up if you decline.

"No, I'm sorry I can't I-" You end up choking up on your words, shaking your head profusely and rubbing your neck nervously.

"I'll tell you sometime, I promise" You wrap your pinky with his, returning his gaze. Saiki decides to just accept it, he's closer than ever to finding out what is bothering you. He'll just have to wait.

Saiki just hopes you're not dying, seeing that you're wilting like a decomposing flower.

Snuggling into your sleeping bag, you tell Saiki goodnight. He says it back, watching you in the dark until he knows you're asleep. He reaches down and caresses your hair, his lips twitching in concern.

"Please be okay" He whispers quietly into the dimly lit room. You said you're afraid of the dark so Saiki took out an old night light. He sighs, his fingers tangling in your hair. His heart seems to flutter, as the scent of your shampoo finds it way to his nose. He sniffles, continuing to tuck your hair behind your ear.

"Goodnight Y/n, my best friend".

Saiki drifts into sleep, his arm dangling over the bed and his fingers still knitted into your hair. And your strawberry shampoo still lingering in scent.

#kusuo saiki #the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki k #saiki kusuo x reader fanfic #saiki x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #kusuo saiki x reader #saiki x reader fanfic

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dokidokitsuna · 17 days

Text

So about Frye's recent Splatfest victory...even in the beginning, playing on her team felt different from usual, and I had a suspicion about it... And after reading a tweet about the Autobots vs. Decepticons Splatfest from way back when, the suspicion grew stronger. And after seeing the final results, the suspicion was basically confirmed: The one factor in these lopsided Splatfests that's gone largely overlooked is how well each theme attracts older vs. younger players.

For many sets of themes, like the food themes, this isn't as noticeable. Everyone likes food, so the stats are gonna be muddier. But for more philosophical themes like the one we just had, I think the contrast was strong enough to actually affect the results. 'Save the World' (as it was localized pretty much everywhere outside of Japan) is a VERY kid-oriented option, especially compared to the other two choices. What child wants to do the Same Ol' thing at the end of the world?? How many kids even have a concept of what a 'Bucket List' is (and even if they do, would they recognize the phrase)...?

This would explain why Team Big Man, which usually either matches Team Frye or wins outright, did so poorly this time around...their performance was likely dragged down by an aggressively younger player pool.

It would ALSO explain why the Splatoon developers' obvious attempts to give Frye the most attractive themes kept backfiring: crowd-pleasers tend to attract kids. ^^; Meanwhile, Big Man and Shiver would have older player pools thanks to their more niche options, and end up winning more of the matches anyway.

If they really wanted to hand Frye an easy win after her year-long losing streak, rather than thinking along the lines of "Moldy Shoelace vs. 10-CARAT DIAMOND vs. Piece of Lint", they should have been trying stuff more like "New Club vs. New Apartment vs. New School". Y'know, make sure Frye's theme is something adults specifically can relate to, in order to attract older players (and thus, more experienced players) to her team.

#with that said #i wonder how the splatfests are gonna go from now on #i noticed this one was pretty well balanced- I only had ONE mirror match #hopefully they can keep this up #splatoon 3 #splatfest

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livyjh · 9 months

Text

Temptation ch.5

Co-written with @fhatbhabie

No outbreak!Dbf!Joel x Fem!Plus size!Reader

Series Masterlist

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Summary: After you break things off with your toxic boyfriend, you move back home with your dad. His best friend and neighbor, Joel Miller, takes an interest in you. But you’re the one who has to convince him to make the first move.

Chapter warnings: talk about food/cooking/eating, cigarettes, reader says self-deprecating things, drama, filler OC dude, date gone wrong, someone is mean to reader, excessive drinking, almost getting caught.

Divider art by: @saradika

The next day, Saturday, you and your dad are invited over for breakfast by Sarah and Joel.

You get there around 10am to the smell of pancakes. You both walk into the kitchen with smiles on your faces.

“Hey, y’all.” Joel smiles over his shoulder from his position at the stove.

“Hey.” You and your father speak in unison.

“Thanks for having us. Anything we can help with?” Your dad asks.

“Not right now. We’re just finishing making the eggs and sausage. Pancakes are done.” Sarah grabbed a few plates and turned to you. “Actually… you guys can set the table.” She handed the plates to you and then gathered silverware and napkins and gave them to your dad.

You two walked over to the kitchen table and set everything down in its place.

Joel and Sarah come over with plates of pancakes, eggs, and sausage, setting them down on the table. “Dig in.” Joel smiles, glancing at you, something that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

You all make yourselves comfortable and dish up, eating quietly as the radio played.

Once finished, you all sat back in your chairs. Your father rubbed his stomach and Sarah laughed. Joel snorted, “Eat too much?” He asked your dad.

“Way too much… but it was worth it.” Your father chuckles.

The three of you laugh too before the room goes silent for a second.

“Joel, mind if I use your bathroom?” Your dad asks.

“Not at all, you know the way.”

A few minutes went by when your dad came back down and patted Joel on the back.

“Glad to see you finally back on the horse, pal.” Your dad said, laughing.

“What are you talking about?” Joel asked, confused.

“Oh c’mon the red pair of panties on your bathroom floor? Who's the mystery woman? When we meeting her?” Your dad asked.

“I don't think I wanna meet her. I can hear her at night and by god can she scream.” Sarah added, making you breathe in your drink.

“Y/N you alright?” Your dad asks.

You gave him a thumbs up while you continued to cough your lungs up. You took a deep breath and wiped the tears that came out.

“Sorry.. went down the wrong pipe.” You said, clearing your throat. “Gonna take a minute...” you quickly walked out the back door. You sat down in a chair next to the pool. Your mind raced like crazy wondering if Sarah did in fact see you at any point in time or recognize your voice. You felt your head spinning and quickly pulled out a pack of cigarettes you had tucked into your purse. Not proud of the habit but sometimes you needed one. You took a cigarette in between your lips and lit it, puffing out a cloud of smoke.

“Things are bad for ya, y’know.” Joel said as he walked over, sitting in the chair next to you.

“Joel-”

“Don't worry Sarah's got your dad distracted with a school project.” He said as he pulled the cigarette from your lips and placed it in between his.

“Thought you said they’re bad for you?” You mocked him, making him chuckle.

“Think she saw anything? Or recognized it was me?” You asked nervously.

He shook his head and handed the cigarette back to you. “She would have said somethin’.”

“Guess it was just a one n done type thing.” You said, turning your head away to blow out smoke. You finished the rest and put the butt in an ashtray sitting by your chair.

“Don't want it to be…” he muttered.

“If you wanna check ‘Banged a Big Girl’ off your bucket list, go ahead. You don't have to lie to me to make me feel better…” you frown.

“I'm not lyin… I wanna keep seeing you.” He said as he took your hand into his. “You're not just some box I wanna check on a list.”

“Y/N?” Your dad called out from inside the house.

“I gotta go.” You get out of Joel’s grip and walk back in, leaving him alone outside.

***

A few days had passed since you last saw Joel. You had gotten the job you had the interview for, so you just focused on working, clearing your thoughts of Joel. He sometimes came over when your dad invited him but you just locked yourself in your room.

You finally had a weekend off of work and you had found a new Tinder date. Hoping that going on this date would get Joel off your mind.

You walked into the bar and saw your Tinder date sitting at the bar. You walked over and tapped his shoulder, making him turn around. He was cute but something felt off.

“You’re Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah, are you Devon?”

“Yeah that's me.” He looked you up and down and chuckled, making you feel self-conscious.

After a few drinks you started to feel the heat rise to your cheeks, making you feel good, trying to ignore the jerk in front of you.

“Hey, I'm gonna go to the bathroom.” You told him.

“Okay whatever.” He shrugged. You walked to the bathroom and locked yourself in a stall. You pulled your phone out and pulled up Joel's contact, tempted to message him but instead you messaged Sarah.

You: On a “date” and this guy is such an ass.

You stared at your phone for a while, waiting for her to answer, but she never did. You washed your hands and walked back out, seeing Devon with his arms wrapped around another girl. Tall, blonde, and skinny.

“Umm… what the fuck?” You asked as you walked up to him.

“Don't act so surprised. Coming here was a dare. First guy to match with a fat girl has to go out with her.” He said, making the other girl laugh as he walked out with her. You sat back at the bar and kept ordering drink after drink after drink.

After countless cocktails later, you stood up from the bar and instantly fell on the floor, making you laugh. One of the bouncers walked over and helped you up but you were so drunk you didn't realize he was helping you.

“Get the fuck off!!” You slurred. The bouncer gripped your arm tightly and walked you out of the bar.

“Go home.” He called out before closing the door to the bar.

You stumbled to the curb and plopped down. You pulled your phone out and called Joel.

Joel’s phone vibrates, turning his attention away from the movie that was playing on the TV. He picked his phone off the coffee table and saw your name light up his screen.

“Hello?” He answered quietly, trying not to wake Sarah who was also on the couch.

“Joel.” You cried.

“Hey whats going on?” Joel whispered.

“I n- need you to come pick me up please.” You slurred.

“Can you text me where you are?” He quietly got up and slipped his boots on.

“Y- Yeah.” You hung up and texted Joel the name and address of the bar you were at. He pulled a blanket over Sarah and made his way outside. Not long after he pulled up to the bar, he found you outside, sitting on the sidewalk. He quickly parked his truck and jumped out, making his way over to you.

“Y/N?” He crouched down in front of you. You looked up at him with mascara stains and fresh tears going down your cheeks. “Shit…” he took off his jacket and wrapped it around you. “Can you walk, darlin?”

“Y- Yeah…” he helped you up and walked you to the passenger side of his truck and helped you in. He quickly walked over to the driver’s side and drove off.

“Joel, I'm so sorry…” you sniffle.

“Hey, hey, don't worry. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked.

“Fucking… stupid guy…” you slurred. “I went to the bathroom and when I came back he was flirting with someone else and he called me fat so he left with the girl he was flirting with and I got drunk.” You laughed. “So stupid.”

“You’re not stupid… Where am I taking you?” He asked, looking over at you.

“Care if i crash at your place? Kinda told dad I was staying at a friend’s house tonight… Plus I can't handle one of his lectures right now.”

“Of course…” he pulled into his driveway and helped you inside. He helped you upstairs to his room and walked you into the connecting bathroom.

“I think I got it from here, Joel…” you said, looking over at him.

“I’ll get you some clothes.” He planted a soft kiss on your temple as he closed the door to the bathroom.

A few minutes later you walked into his bedroom with a towel wrapped around your body. You looked over on his bed and saw one of his t-shirts and a pair of his boxers. You quickly got changed and made your way into the kitchen and saw him digging in the fridge.

“Joel?”

“Hey darlin...” he said, smiling. “Making a sandwich, want one?”

“Yeah, that sounds good…” you said as you sat down at the kitchen island.

“Get you sobered up a bit before you go to sleep.” He said as he made 2 sandwiches. He placed them on plates and sat one down in front of you.

“Looks good.” You said as you slowly started to eat. He sat next to you and started to eat as well. He looked over and saw a purple hand print on your arm.

“How’d that happen?” he asked, pointing at the bruise.

“The bouncer. I didn't realize what he was doing so I freaked out and he grabbed me pretty hard…” you sighed, and then there was a long pause.

He gripped the leg of the stool you were sitting in and pulled you closer to him. “Be mine, Y/N.”

“Joel-”

“Look, I am well aware of the age gap. I know your dad might end up gutting me like a damn deer.” He chuckled. “I’ve wanted this for awhile. What do you say?”

You took a minute to process everything he said. Maybe it was meant to be. You pulled him into a kiss as you tangled your fingers in his hair. He wrapped your legs around his waist and sat you up on the counter top. He held you close, slipping his hands up the t-shirt you had on, running his finger tips over your curves. A small snore made you and Joel freeze.

“Shit…” he muttered. “Sarah's on the couch, I forgot...” he whispered, making you giggle.

“Joel?” You said.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Still feelin’ drunk...” you said, giggling. You cupped his face and kissed him again.

“Let's get you to bed, sweet girl.”

***

You woke up the next morning with a hangover from hell and the feel of Joel's arms wrapped around you. You sat up and felt the room spin, making you nauseous. You slipped out of bed and went to Joel's bathroom and proceeded to throw up the contents of your stomach. You quickly brushed your teeth with a new toothbrush you found under the sink and made your way back to find Joel sitting up in bed.

“Hungover?”

“Like a whore.” You mumbled as you crawled back into bed. You felt Joel get out of bed, making you turn over and face him. “Where you going?” you whined.

“Gonna go get you something for that hangover, darlin.” He placed a small kiss on your forehead, making your heart feel all ooey gooey.

He walks downstairs and found Sarah making breakfast.

“Morning, dad.” She said, giving him a smile.

“Mornin’ baby girl. Left you on the couch, didn't wanna wake you.”

“It's fine, I went up to my room after a while.” She placed a few slices of bacon on a plate along with scrambled eggs. “Here.” She said, handing him the plate.

“Thanks, baby.” He grabbed the plate and grabbed a gatorade from the fridge. Sarah glanced back and chuckled.

“Girlfriend got a hangover?” She said, making Joel freeze in his tracks.

“How did you-”

“Heard her giggling in the kitchen last night.” She said, making his face go red. “Am I gonna meet her?”

“Thought you didn't want to ‘cause she was so loud?”

“Yeah, I was joking dad. If she makes you happy then I'm happy.” She said, giving him a smile.

“Thank you, baby girl.” He kissed her temple and made his way upstairs. He walked in his room, quickly shutting the door behind him.

“That bacon?” You asked.

“Sure is, here.” He handed you the plate and the gatorade and you instantly started eating.

“Mmm… so good...” you muttered with your mouth full.

“Sarah wants to meet you…”

You let out a sigh and took a sip of your drink. “She's gonna hate me, Joel…”

“You never know… Look, you know better than anyone that she's my world.”

“Yeah and what if she doesn't like the fact that one of her best friends is dating her dad? I don't wanna ruin what you have with her, Joel…” you set the empty plate down on the bedside table and sat in front of him. He took your hands into his.

“You're not gonna ruin anything…”

You looked at him and gave him a small smile. “Fine... let's do it.”

He got out of bed and grabbed your hand walking you downstairs. You stayed close behind Joel so Sarah didn't see you just yet.

“Sarah?” He called out as he walked into the kitchen and saw her loading the dishwasher. She closed the dishwasher door and turned around.

“What's up dad?”

“There's… someone I’d like you to meet.” He said as he reached around his back and grabbed your hand. You took a deep breath and walked out from behind him locking eyes with Sarah.

“Holy shit…” she muttered.

“Hey Sarah…” you speak cautiously.

She didn't say anything back she just stood there staring at you and Joel. You wrapped your hands around his arm holding him close to you, hoping that she wouldn't burst into flames.

“How long?” She asked.

“Not long after I moved back…”

“You guys happy?” She asked again as she walked closer.

“Very.” Joel said.

She wrapped her arms around you and Joel, pulling you into a hug. “Then that's all that matters…” she said, making both you and Joel smile. She pulled away and smiled at both of you.

Later that day you invited Sarah out to lunch. You wanted to talk to her about you and Joel without Joel being there. You two sat down at a table and each ordered a glass of wine to take the edge off.

“So.. you're the screamer?” She said, breaking the silence and making your face turn red.

“Yeah…” you said, laughing.

“I always kinda had a feeling you know? Just the way he'd look at you when you came back… I just don't want things between us to be awkward.”

“I don't either... I'm sorry I didn't tell you before. I thought you would have hated me or something...”

“Oh my god never. Only thing is; I'm not calling you mom.” She said, making both of you laugh.

“Don't worry I don't want you to.” You giggle.

“Does your dad know?” She raises a brow.

“Fuck no, he'd kill Joel… Just gonna tell dad I have a boyfriend but not gonna tell him who.”

“Just one last thing?” She asked, “If you're gonna have wild monkey sex can you wait until I'm not home?”

You laughed and nodded “Of course.”

____________________________________________

Tag list: @evyiione @chyannealaniz @cesspitoflove @supersingle @dizzyforyou @vampire7595

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