#the cat is my friends called Izzy

[marshmallow-narwhal-14]

Thought I'd post all the pet portraits I've done over the years cause my garn and grandpa have recently had to put down their Newfoundland and I'm gonna make them a picture of him.

#watercolor #pet portraits #the cat is my friends called Izzy #the black white and tan collie is my puppy freyja #the yorkie was my aunts his name was Charlie #the brown and white collie is cassie #i made that one years ago so its quite different to the others #then we have callie #and yes her ears are actually that big #and then is bailey our old golden retriever #and finally we have sam her and bailey were best friends until they passed #ill post the picture of my grandparents Newfoundland when its finished

[sohnric]

to. my first – k. sunwoo

pairing: kim sunwoo x fem! reader

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

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

word count: 31k

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

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

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

August 2007

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

to. my first time getting drunk

April 1999

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Deserved, Sunwoo thinks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You look grumpy.”

“I’m just worried,” you note.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“Okay.”

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

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

to. my first detention

September 1999

Sunwoo was never the one to break the rules. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sir, I really–”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I can join!! i could use some froyo

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

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

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

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

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

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

weirdo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” he shrugs. 

He did not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…maybe his sister was right. 

Maybe the bracelet had a deeper intention.

August 2007

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

to. my first dance

November 1999

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why?”

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

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

Maybe you’re right. Maybe he should go. 

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

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

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

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

“What?” he asks, genuinely confused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

to. my first date

January 2000

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It won’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

August 2007

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

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

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

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

Not at all. Why would anyone even think that?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, is it any good?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wanna bet?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

to. my first kiss

March 2000

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe he should start hanging out with Eric less.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You know what? Just forget–”

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

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

“Yeah,” he agrees.

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You know you can kiss back, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Was it that ba–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

August 2007

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anything specific?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe you have more time now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That bad?” Sunwoo asks empathetically.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, as if–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

to. my first girlfriend

May 2000

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

to. my first lover

August 2000

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

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

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

“Is everything alright?” you ask. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You did!” you nod, grinning back.

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

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

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

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

“You don’t seem excited,” you argue.

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

“What is it?” 

“What is what?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

“Okay,” he nods, smiling at you. 

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

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

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

to. my first love

September 2000

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

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

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

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

He should start writing a diary, he thinks as he stares up on the ceiling, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It sounds good enough to channel his feelings out into while also not being a bother to anyone else. Besides, he doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s having a hard time here in Boston. This was all his decision, his dream, and sometimes, things are going to get difficult. And that’s okay. Sunwoo just… feels like he lacks the support system he once had back home in Korea. Like someone took it from between his fingertips, forcefully kept it away from him, locked somewhere miles away. Maybe the person who did that to him was himself all along…

Which is why he doesn’t deserve to whine about the fact that he feels terribly lonely. He did this to himself. All him.

If he had a diary, he’d write about the terrible mattress first, he thinks. Then, the weird weather around here– it’s always hot, but not humid. It doesn’t rain as much. He kind of misses the rain. 

If he had a diary, he’d write about how he misses his old coach. The high school coach that always made sure the game was fun, yet productive. He misses his teammates as well. Their team never did big things, but he felt like they were some sort of a family. They knew each other well on the field. They had chemistry. They had fun.

He’d write about how he misses his annoying little sister. How he wishes she would appear in the doorway of his room and talked to him about the stickers she still collects, or dragged him to make another friendship bracelet together. How he feels bad for leaving her all alone back home, even though he was never the one to share his brotherly love for her so outwardly growing up. He feels a sort of appreciation for her that he didn’t quite understand when they were little. They are right when they say your sibling is your first best friend after all. 

He’d write about the second best friend he’s ever made, Eric. He’d write about how he longs for his presence, his encouraging words. His funny remarks, the pranks he’d pull on him. How he always appreciated him being just across the street, how he enjoyed growing up with him by his side.

He’d write about how much he misses you– perhaps the most out of everyone. There aren’t many words he could use to describe how much he wishes for your presence, and so he thinks the pages filled with sentences directed to you would be rather sparse, and it makes him kind of sad to think about. In his mind, you deserve novels written about you. You deserve love letters and poems and essays filled with every little detail of your existence. Maybe if Sunwoo loved you less, he would be able to talk about it more.

When his eyes go out of focus staring at the ceiling, Sunwoo decides to call you. It’s been 4 days since he arrived and he hasn’t spoken to you since you waved him off to the airport. His mother drove him and you couldn’t go to send him off at the gate, but Sunwoo almost thinks he prefers the fact that you only said goodbye to him in front of his house. It would be that much harder if he saw your face the last thing before boarding the plane. 

For the last four days, he’s been slowly settling in, taking in the new country and the new environment. He’d say he was just too busy to call, but that would be a lie.

He was just scared to hear your voice. Terribly.

What if you changed your mind? What if you no longer want to stay with him? What if it’s too hard to handle? And Sunwoo knows it’s hard– hell, it’s the most difficult thing he’s ever done– but all he wishes is for you to keep handling it well. To keep his heart in your hands gently, like you always have, sending him your energy.

He figures that if there’s one thing that can help his growing homesickness, it is to hear your voice. 

Sitting up from his bed and walking over to the bag he carried with him through the airport and kept with him on the plane, he scrambles through the item to find the piece of paper you forced into his hand on the driveway of his house. 

“We changed our landline yesterday, so call me on this number when you get there,” you said, pressing a kiss towards his cheek before you let him get into his mother’s car. Sunwoo promised to call back then– he hopes you don’t mind the delay. Maybe he could blame the timezones…

Hand thrusting into the front pocket of the bag, Sunwoo feels around and tries to fish out the little piece of paper. He’s 100% certain he put it there after he got into the car with his mum, making sure it’s safe and sound. He would hate to lose it– it was some sort of safety net for him. Something to fall back to, something to keep him above the water.

Panic settles in his chest when he doesn’t feel the soft piece of paper anywhere. The boy unzips all other compartments of the bag, turning it around, shaking out everything that’s inside. The phone number to your new landline has to be there somewhere in there. It needs to be.

When he doesn’t find it in his bag, he opens his closet. He throws everything out to the ground– his clothing, his shoes, the notebooks he bought for university– all in the search of the stupid, little, yet so important piece of paper. He searches through all his other bags. All pockets of his jeans, every centimeter of his folded clothing. All drawers of his desk, the whole floor, hell, he even crouches to check under his bed, blowing the dust bunnies out of reach, desperately hoping he could wish the paper into existence. He searches his bed. All possible parts where the landline number could be– some more unreasonable than others. Sunwoo feels like he is losing his mind.

The paper is nowhere in his room. It’s like it vanished. Was it really there at all? Did he dream that moment up?

Running down the stairs towards the landline, he takes the phone off the wall and punches in the numbers to your old landline, the pattern so familiar in his fingertips he couldn’t tell you the number if you asked, but he could recreate it with punching in the buttons in on any other phone in the world. He clenches his fist together, breathing more heavily as he listens in, praying for the universe to stop playing tricks on him and make you magically answer on the other side.

When the phone makes a dismissive sound, signaling that the number he called no longer exists, Sunwoo shuts the phone against the wall and takes it again, putting in your old number once more, like a summoning ritual. Maybe he put the numbers in wrong the first time… Maybe he made a mistake somewhere along the way…

When he gets the same response, he tries again. And again. And again. 

He can’t believe it. Tension settles into his shoulders, making him twirl the cord of the landline in between his fingers as a way to calm himself down, listening in to the dull noise on the other side telling him there’s nothing that can be done, nothing more that he can do. He doesn’t have the number, and somehow, although it sounds foolish, it feels like he lost you alongside it too. 

“Everything alright, man? You look–” Mark enters the room, peering at the boy with curious, worried eyes. It’s only now that Sunwoo realizes he is breathing heavily, fingers clammy on the cord, heart begging to run out of his chest to get all across the ocean to you. It’s only now that he realizes his cheeks are wet with tears, the solidification of his inner turmoil taking a physical form and appearing on his face, making him feel pathetic in front of the older boy.

Sunwoo once again puts the phone back to its original place, but this time, he doesn’t take it back and tries the useless old phone number again. Simply turning away from his roommate, he accepts his fate as he quickly puts on his shoes and slams the door shut after him, going out for a run.

Is this his punishment for waiting too long? Did the paper vanish out of his possession because he was deemed unworthy of hearing your voice? Should he have tried to look for the number earlier? Would this have prevented it?

It’s hard to run when your nose is stuffed and your breathing hitches with silenced sobs, he learns. Sunwoo doesn’t get as far as he would have liked, crumbling on a bench somewhere next to a playground, picking at the dry skin of his lips until they bleed and the irony taste on his tongue snaps him back into reality.

What was once his dream is starting to feel more like a nightmare. When he calls Eric two days after to ask him to get him your new landline number, he gets the news that you abruptly moved out to New York. 

September 2007

“If you really think about it, Y/N,” Sunwoo hums, making you shift your attention towards his serious-looking face, “we never really broke up in the first place.”

The boy is holding a bottle of cider in his hand, one of the four you got on your way to your tonight’s destination. Sunwoo rang the bell to your house a few minutes before 10 PM, and although you weren’t expecting to see him that day and you weren’t even looking as presentable as you’d like, you agreed to take a walk with him. Somehow, the two of you found yourselves climbing over the fence of your old high school, sneaking into the football field, figures settling on one of the benches of the tribune.

“Oh yeah,” you hum, lightness evident in your tone, “you just never called. What’s up with that, by the way?” you ask, snickering when you watch the male avert his gaze in a bashful manner, as if he was embarrassed to tell you his reasoning.

You take a sip of the apple cider, enjoying the sweet, fruity taste on your tongue, watching as the male contemplates his next response for a bit, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I lost your new landline number,” he peeps, voice barely louder than a whisper.

His answer doesn’t register immediately in your brain. The words take a moment to string themselves together into a sentence, taking another few seconds before you understand the meaning of his confession. A soft laugh drags out of your throat, disbelief coating your very essence. “What?”

“Yeah,” he nods, scratching the back of his neck before looking back at you, eyes full of guilt and shame, “I… I lost the number you gave me, and when I called Eric to try to make him get me your new number, he told me you moved to New York, and I guess… I guess I took it as a sign…?” he says, shrugging.

“A sign of what?” you ask, genuinely surprised to hear his answer.

All this time, you thought he didn’t call because he didn’t want to. You thought he didn’t call because he was too busy, too tired to deal with anything else other than his career at the moment. He was trying his hardest and training every day, so you understood that he wouldn’t have time for you every day. When he didn’t call for so long, even after you moved to the States as well– you hoped he’d somehow try searching for your number even then, because in your mind, everything was possible– one day, you just… stopped waiting for him to call. You stopped hoping you would hear his voice on the other side of the line.

And you accepted it. He realized long distance relationships were too difficult to maintain, especially in that time and age, and he had too many of his own worries to take care of before focusing his attention somewhere else. You didn’t resent him, no. You longed for him, you missed him, but you never once hated him for the decision he made. You wished him well, all this time. 

“A sign that… that maybe we weren’t meant to be,” he hums, shrugging. “It sounds stupid, really, but…” he trails off, cutting himself off in the middle of the sentence.

Something about his confession makes you feel a bit lighter. Your shoulders feel like there’s no longer anything weighing them down. It’s not like you waited for an explanation all those years and when you finally got one, something in you shifted into a more comfortable position.

“For me, back then, you were the right person, wrong time. And I didn’t want to let you go, I really didn’t, it’s just… everything was already so hard and the world seemed to put so many obstacles in my way of contacting you, that I thought it was the universe telling me to drop it and let you go. So you could… so you could find someone else, I guess…” he finishes explaining. He averts his gaze from you, pointing it towards the empty field, as if scared to see your reaction to his blabbering. He takes another few sips of his cider, snickering. “It wasn’t fair of me to want you to wait for me either.”

So you could find someone else… You think back to all the times you went on dates after you concluded that your relationship with Sunwoo was over. You try to remember their faces, their mannerisms in such detail that you could only make up one of your previous lovers– the one sitting next to you right now– and you chuckle at your foolishness. Remembering how you kept comparing every new person in your life to the one that stole your heart first, remembering how you thought about him late at night, wondering where he is right now and how he’s doing. You used to look through the sports parts of newspapers, looking for his name somewhere, looking for his team name, but never seeing a glance of how he was doing. You wore the stupid friendship bracelet he gave you in your junior year around in New York, having people point it out and ask about it, all until it broke off by itself  one day and you reluctantly said goodbye to the sentiment. 

You dated around after losing contact with Sunwoo. You don’t really think you found someone else, though. 

“I wanted to wait for you, though,” you say, shuffling closer to the male on the bench, voice sincere. “It was my decision.”

“Well,” he chuckles, “life had other plans for us two.”

His sentence makes you think. A few days ago, it would make you sad. Embarrassed, even. Life had other plans for you two and they didn’t align with what you two have calculated during the summer break after your senior year. Sunwoo didn’t become a star. His football career never took off. He finished his degree and came back home, bitter and heartbroken. 

Your plans ended just as fast as you came up with them. Not going to university after high school, you were left with nothing to do. When the opportunity to take an internship for a news company in New York came to you so suddenly, you took it without thinking, trying to find your place in the big world ahead of you. You had no plan, but you think that maybe, some part of you wanted to get away from your hometown all along. You wanted to do big things, make everyone proud. Being a news anchor wasn’t even something you dreamed of when you were little, so you guess you weren't supposed to really feel that let down, but the defeat still stings.

Or, at least, it used to. You find that the failure doesn’t hurt as much anymore. 

Looking at the male next to you, you think you know the reason why. “It’s okay,” you say, shrugging, “we figured it out anyways, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Sunwoo sighs, looking at you with a soft smile playing with his lips. “I guess we did.”

The sound of cicadas hits your ears when you two fall into a comfortable silence. Healing old wounds was surely one of the items on your check list when you came back home, but you didn’t expect to get over things so quickly. You don’t think you would have been able to get over everything alone, though– and this makes you twice as grateful to still have Sunwoo by your side. A sense of nostalgia takes over you at the fact, but this time, it hits you with more fondness than longing for the old times.

“Remember how young we were? It’s like I still see you chasing the ball around the field when I focus hard enough,” you say, pointing ahead of you.

Sunwoo laughs, shaking his head at your antics. “Yeah. I almost see you leading the cheer practice in the back there,” he points, “in your cute cheer uniform, with the ridiculous pom poms in your hands–”

“Hey, don’t call them ridiculous,” you gasp, “they were my favorite part of the whole routine!”

“Oh, I could tell,” he laughs, poking fun at you. 

“Well, you must have liked the pom poms enough to stare at me during practice all the time,” you shrug, teasing the male back. The fact that Sunwoo had a crush on you long before you reciprocated the feelings wasn’t something you two explicitly talked about before, but you always deemed as clear as day. Or, at least, it was to everyone back then.

“I did not–” he gasps, making you gently shove him with your elbow.

“Come on, everybody used to say you had a crush on me back then,” you hum, “you were pretty obvious with it too.”

“You knew?” he looks at you, eyes big and surprised. Gears clearly running in his head, he tries to piece the information together, running through the memories now so distant, but still so clear.

“Girls always know,” you point out, shrugging. You take another sip of your cider, licking your lips after and speaking up again, tone of voice almost confidential. “I just acted like I didn’t. But then I realized I liked you back, so I was trying everything in my power to make you confess to me first. Which… took you long enough, young man,” you giggle, seeing the male shake his head at you in disapproval.

“You could’ve confessed first, if you were so confident,” he mutters, obviously a little gutted by the revelation.

“That would be below my level,” you nod, pressing your lips together into a straight line, “besides, it was fun watching you act all cute and clueless.”

“Don’t call me cute and clueless–”

“That’s what you were, though! Like the time when you got super drunk on your birthday and begged me not to leave–”

“I didn’t even like you back then!”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“I was in denial,” he furrows his brows theatrically, putting the empty glass bottle to the grass, “but I see that you had a lot of fun watching me suffer.”

“Fine, pretty boy,” you say, catching a glimpse of the boy momentarily shying away, presumably at the endearing nickname, his cheeks tinting pink even in the faint moonlight. “Would it make you feel better if I confessed first this time?”

“Huh?” the boy asks, lips parted, eyes a big, honest pool of honey.

Cute and clueless, you think.

The story comes full circle when you realize that this football field is perhaps what started it all. This is where you ran up to the new addition to the team, saying that your favorite number was on the back of his jersey. As the leader of the cheerleading team, you took it as your job to make every newbie feel welcomed– no matter if they were a fellow cheerleader or a football player. You didn’t expect for the boy to never stop wearing the number– although it was your favorite, it didn’t seem to be so important back then. (One day, you learned that Sunwoo kept the number on his jersey even after moving abroad. You read it in one of the sports magazines you foolishly flipped through in every kiosk you encountered and almost teared up in the busy store after.) 

This field is where you watched him play football every week. It’s where you both practiced, sending each other funny faces after the coach was mean to either of you for not being focused on your training. 

This is where Sunwoo found his passion– where he found his dream. This is the place that shifted the next couple of years of your life towards all sorts of directions. This is where he kissed you after winning a match, a gleeful confession slipping past his lips. This is where your relationship started, and metaphorically, also ended. The field that kept you apart is now a thousand miles away, but the one that brought you together is now right in front of you.

You guess it’s only right to use it for new beginnings.

“I think… I think I’m still in love with you, Sunwoo,” you start slowly, playing with your fingers in your lap, “well, I don’t know if my feelings for you ever ended… they could’ve, I mean, we were apart for so long… I just… all I know is that I don’t want us to be apart anymore, and I–”

Your words die on your tongue when the boy cuts you off with a kiss, the taste of apple cider mixing on your lips. The way he kisses you didn’t really change even after so many years, still swaying you with the familiarity of his loving. Still, even though you know the way he angles your jaw, the way he presses against you, the way he takes his sweet time, truly showing you how much he enjoys the act, you never grow tired of it. Something in you reacts the same way as when you were young. There’s still excitement, there’s still tender softness in your heart every time you kiss him.

His lips break apart from yours, a playful tint in his words when he speaks to you again. “Don’t try to take credit for it now,” he says, “because the last time I checked, we never really broke up in the first place, so you could say we were dating all along, all because I confessed back in–”

“God, you’re unbelievable,” you grunt.

“But you love me,” the boy says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it is.

“Always have,” you say, pressing a quick peck to his plush lips, “always will.”

The starlight glazes your cheekbones when you rest your forehead against his, as if to send him a telepathic message that is worth more than a thousand words. It’s hard to find the words to explain the mixture of your emotions right now, but when your memory washes up the encouraging monologue Sunwoo offered to you when you first arrived, you finally agree with his sentiment. Perhaps, one word could summarize it all– you feel truly content. 

They say you never forget about your first love. At 25 and still counting, you guess you could say that’s true.

#deoboyznet #sunwoo #the boyz #sunwoo fluff #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo angst #the boyz angst #the boyz fluff #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenario #the boyz imagine #sunwoo scenario #sunwoo imagine

[rottenroyalebooks]

It's a bad idea, right?

Series: The Mortal Instruments

Pairing: Jace Wayland x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst to Fluff, Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Possibly OOC Jace, slight description of Reader (mainly that Jace is taller than her), use of Y/N. All characters are aged 18+.

Summary:

Y/N has a Warlock ex that seems to have her under his spell, metaphorically speaking, and every time he calls, she answers.

Jace has had enough of watching her go back to him repeatedly. Because they're friends, definitely not because he's in love with her or anything.

A/N: Guys, I have finally caved into my desires and am diving deep into the world of The Mortal Instruments. I watched most of the show a few years ago and saw the movie a few days ago, which led me to buy a box set of the 6 Mortal Instruments books. I am just about halfway through The City of Bones, so I still have a lot of learning to do. Forgive me if I need to correct something.

Also, I love all the show characters, but Movie Jace feels closer to Book Jace than Show Jace, so I am committed to Movie Jace for visual representation and Movie Jace only.

Does that make sense to you? Yes? Cool.

"You were where last night?" Izzy asked her a bit too loudly as she and Y/N walked into the weapons room where Alec and Jace were working on cleaning their weapons used from the previous mission.

Y/N shushed her as the two boys looked over, "Seriously, whatever happened to private girl talk?"

Izzy rolled her eyes, speaking lower than before so the guys wouldn't hear, "What ever happened to cutting him out of your life? Finding a new guy to get in your bed to get over him, that's why we went to Pandemonium last night, remember?"

Y/N huffed in response. Of course, she knew that's why Izzy and Clary dragged her to Pandemonium. It was a plan that she had yet to be very keen on. Izzy had gone to powder her nose, and Clary went to dance when Demetrius Black approached her on the dance floor, convincing her to leave with him.

It never took much convincing. He never went to Pandemonium, so she thought it was safe, but alas, she woke up in his bed again with her favorite tea made just the way she liked it on the nightstand next to her. He was nowhere to be seen.

Izzy rolled her eyes at the lack of response, "I need to put a tracker on you, like an outdoor cat." She turned on her heels and walked away.

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair before leaving the weapons room. She needed to punch something, so she soon found her way to the training room, where a punching bag sat calmly in the middle.

Then she beat the shit out of it.

"Stupid Demetrius and his stupidly charming attitude."

One Two.

"Stupid me for falling for it, again."

One Two Three.

"And stupid Mundane girl who couldn't keep her grimy hands to herself!"

With enough force of one last punch, the bag flew backward, hitting the wall as she let out a long groan of anger.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Jace's voice appeared behind her making her jump out of her skin.

"Jesus Christ,"

"Not exactly." He smirked, but she ignored his comment.

"Do you feel the need to scare everyone or just me? Am I that special?" Sarcasm dripped from her lips as she began walking over to the punching bag so she could put it back in its usual location.

"Stop dodging my question. Do you want to talk about why you punched the bag across the room?"

She signed, letting the bag stand back up, "Will you try not to make fun of me for at least ten minutes if I tell you."

He chuckled, leaning against a pillar with his signature smug look, "I'll try my very best."

She couldn't look him in the eye, but she told him everything. From Izzy's plan to it failing when she left her alone for not even five minutes to waking up in her ex's bed again.

His expression was stoic throughout the entire time she was speaking; all of Jace's smugness and ego quickly flushed away as envy flooded his veins.

She didn't notice his change in expression because she refused to look at him.

"I know it's stupid, but it's like he put a spell on me."

"You have a permanent ruin to block any Warlock from using that magic on you."

She groaned, "I meant metaphorically." She plopped down on the bench and ran a hand through her hair.

"Well, I don't even know what you see in the Warlock-"

"Alec is with Mangus, and you never have anything to say about that, but when I date a Downworlder who has helped us just as much as Mangus has, you suddenly have an issue?"

He didn't have a chance to think before he spoke, blurting out, "I can't stand to see you hurting yourself with someone who doesn't deserve you."

Her head snaps to finally make eye contact; she lets her emotions talk without knowing what to think, "You don't get to decide who deserves me, Jace. You're not my father, and you're not my brother. Don't act like it."

He stepped closer to where she was sitting, "He cheated on you. Remember that? You cried to Clary and Izzy for days about it, then you cried yourself to sleep after all that," He saw the shocked look on her face, "We share a wall, remember? The same wall both of our beds are up against. I heard it all and witnessed you tear yourself apart from all the insecurities he gave you. So yes, I may not be in a position to say it, but I can say for certain that he doesn't deserve you."

The tension between the two shadow hunters was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Neither of them said anything else, just stared at each other until she stood up and brushed past him.

"Thanks for the reminder."

Jace only watched as she left the room, wanting to walk after her but feeling paralyzed where he stood. He cursed under his breath and looked down at his feet.

It was his turn to send the punching bag flying across the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, the group went on a mission to track down a Vampire, killing humans left and right. Clary had poked around through the different nests in the city with Alec and Izzy, but none of them seemed to be acquainted with the rouge Vampire.

Jace and Y/N were tasked with searching Pandemonium for the Vampire or any information retaining it.

Things between them were still tense, and the others could see it, but Jace had been the one to wordlessly follow her to Pandemonium. The music was loud and beating through her head, making the memories from the night prior resurface, but she shook it off as she looked around for any suspicious Downworld behavior.

She and Jace had split up in the crowd, which meant she was alone when she felt her phone buzz in her back pocket. She pulled it out seeing a text from Demetrius:

Demetrius: I can tell you're working from how you dress tonight, but meet me at the bar. I might have the information you are searching for. ;)

Tensing up, she looks over at the bar seeing Demetrius leaning against it in all his glory, smirking knowingly at her. She pushed her hurt deep down and walked over to him.

"Well, you look lovely tonight, darling." He said, reaching out to touch her hair when she stopped about two feet away, but she smacked his hand away quickly.

"No time for pleasantries, Demetrius. Do you know anything about a Rouge Vampire, or are you wasting my time?"

"Playing hard to get tonight? Let me buy you a drink." He said as he waved to the bartender to get his attention.

She scoffed, shaking her head, "I knew this was a waste of time--" She stopped speaking when she backed into someone's chest; she didn't even need to look up to know it was Jace. She didn't realize he found them.

Jace didn't move at the contact; he only stared at Demetrius, who noticed he was standing there because she had stopped speaking.

"Oh look," he commented, bored, "It's the guard dog. Don't you have anything better to do than following her around like a lost puppy?"

"We're working, Demetrius." She spoke as Jace opened his mouth, cutting him off before a fight could break out, "Since you don't actually have any information for me, I am going to leave."

She brushed past Jace, leaving the two boys at the bar and disappearing into the crowd.

Jace followed her with his eyes until he knew she was out of earshot. Looking back at Demetrius with a glare that could kill a thousand men, he said, "If you come near her again, I will not hesitate to track you down and kill you myself."

Demetrius smirked, taking a sip from his drink, "And break The Clave's precious rules? From what she told me, you are one of those who respect the Covenant more than anything."

Jace took two steps forward, standing toe to toe with the Warlock, a look of pure hatred in his eyes, "I would break a thousand rules if it made her happy. I would break a thousand rules to make sure she is safe. Don't test me, Warlock."

Demetrius took another sip of his drink, "I always knew, from the moment I had the displeasure of meeting you, that you were in love with her. I watched as you protected her like a lovesick puppy even though she was head over heels in love with me. Now that she is single, why haven't you swept her off her feet to prevent her from falling into my bed?"

He leaned close to his ear, saying just above a whisper, "Maybe it's because you know she will never love you back."

Jace shoved him away, stalking off to get back to work. Only to watch as she left the storage room and in his direction; as she passed him, she said, "Threat has been neutralized, let's get out of here."

She was annoyed. Mostly at herself for thinking he wouldn't come back to her favorite club to antagonize her, but also at the fact that she had to take on a Vampire by herself because Jace decided to have a little chat with her ex.

At the same time, she was proud of herself for finally avoiding Demetrius' charm like the plague. Progress is Progress.

As she exited Pandemonium, she pulled out her phone and started texting Clary to let them know the Vampire was found and taken care of, but Jace pulled her phone out of her hands.

"I'll take that." He said as he went to her contacts lists.

Her jaw dropped, "Jace! Give that back!" She snapped, watching him smirk at her phone as he tapped the screen a few times before giving it back to her.

"First step, blocking your ex's number."

She rolled her eyes and brushed passed him. Raising her hand, a cab drove up to her almost immediately.

"How do you always get cabs so quickly?" He muttered loud enough for her to hear as he stood behind her protectively.

"It's a gift," she said flatly, getting into the cab and scooting over so Jace could get in, even though she wanted him to get his own taxi.

"You cant just avoid me forever." He said into her ear once she got comfortable after telling the driver where to drop them off.

She crossed her arms, staring straight ahead, "Watch me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Jace, let you fight the Vampire by yourself?" Izzy asked her in the kitchen of the Institute, snacking on popcorn with Clary on the opposite side of her as the three girls usually did after a hunt.

"He didn't let me; he was at the bar talking with Demetrius. I thought he followed me into the crowd when I left the bar, but he wasn't behind me when I found the Vampire and pointed it out to him." She ran a hand through her hair and looked down, "I didn't want to lose him, so I followed the Vampire into the storage room, scared off the mundane that was with him, and killed the bloodsucker."

Clary laughed, "And you did it by yourself."

Y/N shrugged, "It was easy because he was a new Vampire who didn't have anyone to guide him."

"What did Jace say when you told him you took care of it?" Izzy tossed another piece of Popcorn into Clary's mouth, and she caught it successfully.

"He didn't react, just followed me out and got rid of Demetrius' contact on my phone."

Clary nearly choked on her popcorn before swallowing it, "He did what?"

Sighing, she nodded, "Yeah, talk about quitting cold turkey."

Izzy giggled, elbowing Clary lightly. "Maybe Jace will finally start courting her."

Y/N raised an eyebrow; Jace was into someone? That was new information, "Courting who? We don't come into contact with many shadow hunters unless he has a secret Mundane lover."

Blinking, Izzy looked from Clary to Y/N and back to Clary, "Is she serious?"

"I think she is."

"Okay, what are you two going on about?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest, blinking at the two of them.

"How do we put this nicely-" Clary began speaking, but Izzy cut her off, "Jace has been in love with you since we were thirteen."

Taken aback, all Y/N could do was laugh, "What? No! You guys are crazy. The only person Jace loves is himself." She rolled her eyes, grabbing a few pieces of popcorn.

Clary spoke up, "When I first learned I was a Shadow Hunter and Jace brought me to the institute, I thought he was cute, but then I saw the way he looked at you, and I thought you two were a thing for a whole month until I saw you making out with a mundane near Pandemonium."

"I remember that!" Izzy giggled, turning to Y/N, "Clary freaked out and came running to me saying that you cheated on Jace and that we needed to tell him. It was so funny trying to explain to her that the two of you weren't a thing."

"My point is," Clary interjected, looking at Y/N, "Jace Wayland has been pining over you for so long. He's extra protective of you. When you came home crying a few months ago because the dirtbag cheated on you, Alec had to stop him from hunting him down and killing him without a second thought."

Y/N sank in her chair, blinking, "I had no idea."

"You're just a little oblivious; it's okay," Izzy said, patting her head.

She shook her head, "It's late. I'm going to bed."

She exited the chair and said goodnight to the two girls before leaving the kitchen.

She was going to bed, but then her feet decided to take her to where she knew Jace would be at this time of night.

The garden.

She opened the door quietly, searching for the blond among the flowers and plants, when she spotted him sitting on a bench. He was reading a book that she couldn't read the title of because of how old it was. She walked over to him and placed her hands in her sweater pockets, "You know how to read?"

He looked up at her from his book, "Sneaking up on people is supposed to be my thing."

"You'll have to learn how to share. May I sit?"

He nodded, closing the book with a bookmark between the pages, and moved to one side of the bench to make room for her to sit, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, "I will be. Thank you for being there for me back at Pandemonium and in the training room earlier today. I needed to hear the truth. Even though my stance on the fact you need to work on your comforting skills stays intact." She teased him lightly, making him chuckle.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with the Vampire alone while I was defending your honor; it won't ever happen again."

"It better not." She chuckled, leaning back and relaxing on the bench, stifling a yawn, "Because I might just have to kill you myself, then."

"As if you would dare lay a mark on my greatest asset." He gestured to his face making Y/N roll her eyes and slapped his hand away.

"That ego of yours is going to be the death of me one day. Do I have to worry about you falling in love with your own reflection and drowning because of it like Narcissus?"

Letting out a laugh, Jace shook his head, looking up at the time on his watch, the very one she had gotten him for his last birthday, "It's getting late. You need rest."

"So do you," she fired back, standing up and glaring at him, "We need you at the top of your game, come on."

He chuckled, standing up and holding the book against his hip as they left the garden together and walked through the Institute.

"Do you need some tea to help you relax?" She asked, tilting her head up at him.

He smiled down at her, "No, I can manage."

They approached their rooms silently, he walked her to her door, and she nodded, "Goodnight, Jace."

He watched as she disappeared into her room, closing the door behind her, but he didn't move to his room next door, even though he should have.

No, he thought about how he realized Demetrius' words were true. He loved her and didn't know what to do with this information.

He raised his hand to knock on her door again, wanting to get the rejection over with, but just before his fist could make contact with the wood, the door opened, followed by her voice saying, "Jace, wait." before getting cut off by realizing he was standing there still.

The two stood there wordlessly, staring at each other. No one knew who made the first move that night, but soon Y/N felt his hands cupping her face as their lips touched.

It felt right, kissing Jace; he was gentle yet passionate, as if he were making up for the lost time, which he was. As it turned out, so was she.

When they broke apart for air, nothing could stop their mutual smiles from appearing on their faces as Jace rested his forehead on hers.

"Sleep in my room tonight? We can talk about this in the morning."

He nodded, picking her up over his left shoulder, causing a light squeal to leave her lips as he walked into the room, closing the door with his foot.

#writers of tumblr #fanfiction #rottenwrites #shadowhunters #the mortal instruments #jace wayland #jace wayland x reader #alec lightwood #isabelle lightwood #clary fairchild #shadow hunters fic #x reader #i don't know if i like this but I'm posting it anyway

[starrysymphonies]

You might not have any, but if you do and you want to, I'd love some Alenoaheather headcanons 👀

Ooo ty for asking!! I’ve got a few headcanons I’ve been thinking of (some are within the bounds of canon and others are set in my AU where Noah returns in Niagara Brawls instead of Blaineley)

Alejandro and Heather are cat people, while Noah is a dog person

Before Noah got eliminated, he’d sometimes fall asleep on Alejandro’s shoulder. After he rejoined in the AU and made an alliance with Heather, he’d sometimes fall asleep on her

Alejandro and Heather have their own very in-depth, complicated skin routines, Noah washes his face with water and calls it a day

Noah is a package deal with Team E-Scope and Owen. Since he’s dating Heather and Alejandro, that means Heather and Alejandro are friends with Eva, Izzy, and Owen too by proxy. Both of them hate it (or at least that’s what they say)

In the AU, Alejandro never got burnt by the lava and kept in the robot suit. Instead, Heather and Noah were able to half-drag half-carry him off the island after he got trampled when the cast was fleeing

In the early parts of WT, Heather and Noah had a mutual respect stemming from complaining about some of the other cast members, which sparked their friendship and eventual relationship

Post-canon, they all ended up going to the same college together

Heather’s main love language is gift giving, Alejandro’s is physical touch, and Noah’s is quality time

#alenoaheather #total drama #Alejandro td #Heather td #noah td #total drama headcanons #they’re just so fun to think about #the dynamic would be so fun #I love them

[foodsies4me]

April Malec fic rec!

Thanking @just-add-butter and @ariella9melody for this month's theme which is a double combo of "Outsider's POV" and "Let Alec have friends!" The same rules apply as always, one fic per author, even though all of these authors have other brilliant fics you should be reading and if you want to add your own recs in the comments, tags, or reblogs please feel free to do so! 😊

Also, I have tagged the authors whose Tumblr account I know, but if you'd prefer I not tag you, please tell me! I don't want these to be annoying for the authors.

One-shots:

Enthrallment by @smilebackwards: Magnus' magic being possessive and warlocks reacting to Magnus' magic being possessive, what more could you want? OC POV!

Summary:

It does look a little bad, Parmela thinks, looking at it from outside. As more specialists had been called in for consultation, they’d decamped to one of the larger conference rooms—eschewing attendance at A, B, AB, & O: The Impact of Blood Type on Non Subject Specific Blood Magic, because this was vastly more interesting and potentially important—and there are a round dozen high-level warlocks clustered around Alec, poking at him with magic. Or: Alec attends the Magical Inventions and Advances convention in hopes of recruiting warlocks for another Downworld Cabinet. The warlocks, however, are more interested—and concerned—by the blue magical aura following Alec around.

And I am breaking my own rules by rec-ing a second fic by smilebackwards: Portable Magic

Summary:

Magnus may go slightly overboard helping Alec set up for the book club gathering. Technically, perhaps, he didn’t need to create a signature cocktail or barter a favor to Raphael for O neg blood for the vampires or source the biscotti directly from Italy. But hospitality is important and these are Alec’s friends. He wants to make a good impression. Or: Alec is in a Downworld book club and Magnus finds this unaccountably fascinating.

I'll die on this (Under)hill by @clottedcreamfudge: like all of the fics written by clottedcreamfudge, this fic is downright hilarious. That said, poor Underhill. Underhill POV!

Summary:

The point is, Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood clearly have an intimate knowledge of each other, and it has never once impacted on their work. What it is beginning to impact on, however, is Andrew’s sanity. Because apparently he really is the only one to have noticed it.

Be careful with my best friends heart by TheLostLightwood: A fic in Cat's perspective, who I maintain is one of the best characters in the series and we needed more of her! Cat POV!

Summary:

Catarina Loss had known Magnus for a long time, she had seen him cry, laugh, mourn, get injured and fall in love many times before. But she had never seen him more in love or more broken than she had in this moment. Cat's POV, as Alec is seriously injured in a fight against demons. And Magnus well he...

Alec's Little Ducklings by @to-the-stars-writing (this will be one of two recs for to the stars because I am being very bad at keeping to my rules this time around). Alec gets hurt and all of his friends appear to take care of him!

Summary:

After Alec's hurt coming home from the Hunter's Moon, he's left laid up in bed when the drug they gave him prevents his injuries from being healed by angelic or magical powers. Magnus is fully prepared to do take care of his stubborn boyfriend, only to find out that there are a few other people who are more than willing to offer their help.

the right thing by @cuubism: As the summary says, Alec's first speech as the Inquisitor doesn't go exactly as planned. Izzy POV!

Summary:

Alec's first speech as Inquisitor doesn't go exactly as planned.

nock. draw. release by chaidrivenwhore: A non human POV, but a weapon POV! Alec's bow to be specific!

the bow and arrows had tempted many, but this specific one, with its curved limbs engraved with angelic runes and sharp arrows, straight and unbending, had called out to a nine year old alexander lightwood like no other had.

Multi-chapter fics or series:

Families of Choice by MonPetitTresor, a recommendation made by @ariella9melody that I can only agree with because this fic is wonderful (as are all fics my MonPetitTresor).

Summary:

Life at the Institute takes a turn for the worse for Alec. When he's alone with nowhere else to turn, his siblings step up and help him find his feet once more with help from a few new friends along the way. Between them, Alec finally gets a chance to realize that the world doesn't begin and end with being a Shadowhunter, and there's more out there for him, so long as he's got the courage to reach out and grab it.

ask the always impossible of me by @faejilly: Some very nice Aline and Alec friendship!

Summary:

Just for one night, a magical ball where anyone can meet, when anything is possible... And that's just the beginning.

Running from the Night by @to-the-stars-writing: I love how Stars depicts Alec's struggles with his mental health and there are a lot of friends for Alec in this one!

Summary:

For a long time, Alec had felt like his life was held together by strings tied on him by the Clave, his parents, his siblings. Strings that pulled and tugged him in every which direction, heedless of the bruises and blood left behind. As much as they hurt, some days they’d been the only thing to hold him together. That is, up until the moment Alec stood on the shores of Lake Lyn and faced the death of the one person who held a piece of his soul, and the lies that followed his mysterious resurrection. There, on the shores of Lake Lyn, those strings finally pulled too hard, and Alec broke. With the permission of the Inquisitor, and the help of the warlock who Alec had wanted so desperately to allow himself to fall for (and had been terrified to do more than smile at his flirting) Alec walked away from everything and everyone. He left New York behind and made himself a home in the small town of Prayer – a joke Magnus found particularly funny. But, two years after that fateful night, Alec’s old life comes knocking, and those strings he thought he’d finally cut are tugging him home. Back to the place he never wanted to have to see again. At least this time, he’s not facing it alone.

#fic rec #these ended up mainly being one shots #and outsider POV's #because most of the Alec friendship fics involve Alec being best friends with Clary #and I just don't like her as a character #so I generally skip those #and by generally I mean by nearly always #the Alec's ducklings being an exception #just for the other characters involved #my life would be so much easier if my brain didn't go NOPE each time a Clary & Alec friendship got mentioned tbh

[letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse]

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**Masterlist**

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Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: Some bad habits are hard to break, and despite his best attempts to be kind, Izzy still manages to mess things up between you.

A/N: And we are back with the second chapter! Thank you for giving this fanfiction a chance. Every like and reblog means the world to me.

Content Warning: Self-depricating inner monologues, reference to the Kraken's torment and torture in Season 2, mutual pining and Izzy being a dick. This series is 18+, so minors dni. Go away (politely).

DISCLAIMER: PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, REPUBLISH, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT PERMISSION. I DO NOT OWN OFMD OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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It had to be noted that, the First Mate of the Revenge was indeed, a man of few words. And the few words that left his lips, were usually either a command or a curse. Though that was not quite strictly true when it came to addressing someone such as yourself. It had not gone unnoticed by the crew that, there was a certain softening of Izzy's tone, whenever he addressed you directly. His curses were said more in jest, than in true anger and there was something akin to fondness in his gaze, as he stared at you for longer than what was considered appropriate from a friend.

While some called Buttons a Sea Witch, perhaps it was you, who was the true magic wielder. Had you not ensnared the First Mate with your powers of compassion and competency? Though you sang no siren song like Swede, you had managed to captivate the mind and heart of the most austere person on the Revenge. If that were not the work of sorcery, then what else coukd it be?

Even now, as Izzy patrolled the deck, barking his usual commands and vulgar threats, there was no denying he kept glancing at the entrance to the hull, where you would be found within the ship's kitchen, helping Roach plan ahead for the upcoming storm.

"I mean look at him, the man's like a lovesick puppy." Lucius scoffed, as he watched the silver-haired pirate like a hawk, scrutinising over every movement and twitch with a level of surveillance that would put even the keenest-eyed night watcher to shame.

Cringing at the verbal observation, Oluwande dared to look in the general direction of the First Mate, whom had thankfully, not seemed to have paid attention to the scribe's declaration. "Sssh, Lucius. He'll hear you."

"Yeah, babe. I love you but you gotta keep your voice down." Pete agreed, taking the rope from his betrothed and making quick work of the shirked task, seeming happy enough to complete the work for them both.

Smirking at the horrified reactions, Lucius looked like a cat who had gotten the cream. Since his lover had taken charge of securing some nearby barrels, he took the opportunity to light himself a cigarette. "Good. I want him too because then, maybe if he does, he'll grow a pair of balls and actually do something about the situation."

"Have they seriously not confessed anything to each other yet?" Archie questioned, genuinely surprised that it had taken you both so long to finally couple up. In the same amount of time, she herself had managed to acquire two partners. Your dire situation did cause the pirate to question whetger or not you were absolutely useless when it came to the matter of love.

"Not according to (y/n), no."

"I wish they'd hurry up. I've got good money riding on them getting together before the next full moon." Wee John grumbled, as he carried a barrel passed the gossiping group. He had invested several coins into the outcome of your poorly-timed love life and by he'll or by high water, he was going to get a good return on his investment- even if it meant locking you and Izzy in the store cupboard himself. Hell, he'd shove you both into a burlap sack, if he thought it would boost his chances on winning the bet.

"You and me both." Archie scoffed.

He could hear them. Not clearly enough to make out what they were saying but enough to hear the sound of constant nattering. It was incessant, irritating. Like having tge constant buzz of a pesky wasp in you vicinity. Izzy longed for his days on the Queen Anne, where tge crew we focused on work, not idle chatter. Judging by the way that Lucius fellow kept glaring at him, the First Mate surmised that he was the topic of conversation. "Oi! You lot," he yelled, having finally reached the end of his patience. "I told you to prep the ship, not stand around gossiping like washer women!" leaning heavily against the railing, Izzy let out a string of curse words. Whilst not a religious man, he did ask whatever deity was listening, to give him strength and the will power to not throw someone overboard. "Fucking useless."

"Hey, Izzy."

He tensed at that familiar sound, that voice that never failed to stir something dark and wonderful within his soul. It brought to life a part of him he thought permanently dead. Turns out, it was just in a state of dormancy, waiting to be awakened at the right time. Or, at least of Izzy, the right person. "Aren't you supposed to be helping Roach lock down the pantry?" to an untrained ear, his lack of greeting might have sounded barbed and unwelcoming but you knew him better than that. The silver-haired pirate might have even gone so far as to say, you were the only one who knew him as well as himself.

The average person started a conversation with 'hello' but your dear Israel Hands was less conventional in his approach. "Yeah, we just finished. Oh, I brought you some tea. Thought you might appreciate it." you offered him one of the steaming cups of tea in yiur grasp. With a word of thanks, you both took a moment to savour the first sip, letting the warmth run through your veins and stave of tge slight chill in the air. "How's it going up here?"

"We'll be dead in the water come daybreak, if this lot don't do their fucking job right!" he all but screamed the final part of the sentence, easily earning himself a chorus of 'fuck off, Iggy' and 'we're doing our best here, dude!'

Your cheshire cat grin only grew, as you relished in the harmless feud between the crew and the First Mate. "Wow, that good, huh?" you teased, nudging Izzy with your elbow.

"Can you go down there and help 'em when you're finished with your tea? I need someone with half a braincell to check the sails are secured properly." he implored, pinching the bridge of his nose, as a migraine already started to form. Already feeling overwhelmed, the last thing Izzy needed was to add 'check the twats had correctly prepped the rigging' to his never-ending list of chores.

Sensing his palpable stress, you were quick to place a gentle hand on his shoulder in reassurance. Though public displays of affection were not common between you both, you speculated that since the pirate had not flinched but in fact, leaned into your touch, that he was comfortable with the gesture. "No problem, boss." his returned smile did not quite meet his eyes but a win was a win. You had at least eased Izzy of one burden. "How bad is the storm looking?"

When your hand eventually dropped from his arm, it took everything in Izzy's power to keep his voice steady, as he gave an answer to your question. Oh, how he longed to take your hand in his and place it back in his arm, so that he may feel your gentle warmth through the material of his shirt once more. "If Ed's calculations are correct, which they usually are, then...bad."

"Sounds like it'll be fun." you sighed, your attention now on the looming, dark grey clouds the besmirched the periwinkle skies with the promise of rain and turmoil.

While you were distracted by the landscape, Izzy was preoccupied by you. That was it, just you. There were not a multitude of opportunities in the day, where the First Mate had the chance to be this close to you. Where he could drink in your appearance, under the guise of merely being invested in your conversation. It felt wrong to him to be so infatuated with someone, who quite frankly, would never return his feelings but he was a starved man. Taking in every moment, every snippet of closeness he could get, until one day, your heart belonged to another.

Sometimes, he liked to delude himself and believe- just for a moment- that your kindness, your patience towards him, were all a hint towards you sharing his adoring sentiments. That perhaps, you could indeed fall for someone so wretched and broken as him.

The illusion never lasted long. Such fairytales of beauties falling so hopelessly in love with a beast were nothing but children's stories. The very same fairytales found in Stede's library, no doubt. And Izzy, well, Izzy was nothing if not a realist. He knew that you only tolerated him because you felt forever in his debt for saving your life. The silver-haired pirate had told you time and time again that you did not owe him anything but being as stubborn as you are, he doubted that you had paid him any mind. "Where are you staying tonight?" he asked, tone softer than he would have liked. Keeping up appearances around you was nearly impossible.

"I'm gonna bunk up with Oluwande, Jim, and Archie. They've got space on the floor of their cabin."

It was a relief, he mused, that at least you would be sleeping somewhere safe tonight, rather than in the communal space with the others. Still, Izzy could not help but wonder what it would be like, to offer you his own cabin to stay in. He would sleep on the floor, of course, he was a gentleman after all- well, that was debatable but he did possess some morals and understanding of social etiquette- and the last thing the pirate would want to do, was force you into an uncomfortable situation but no. Instead, he kept his yearnings to himself and responded in his usually curt manner. "That's good."

"What about you?" you asked, wondering if Izzy had plans on how he was going to ride out the storm. You assumed alone. Although, you felt a pang of jealously towards the non-existent crewmate, who may one day occupy the same living quarters as the man you were hopelessly besotted with. It was silly really, to feel resentment for someone who had not yet joined the team of misfit pirates and yet, it was inevitable that they would soon in the near future, waltz into Izzy's life and give him the love he most deserved. And as much as it pained you to accept your fate, you knew that could never be you.

"What about me?" he shrugged, unaware of your inner turmoil.

Correct, it could never be you who had the privilege to wake up beside him everyday or have the chsnce to call him yours. He would never see you as anything but some wounded creature he had saved from the brink of death. Certainly not worthy of courting the infamous Israel Hands. "Well-"

But before you could answer, Izzy caught sight of something. No, someone watching you both talk. Lucius. Fuck, he loathed that young man. He could not quite fathom what it was about the scribe that made his blood boil but just seeing him standing there, occasionally whispering something to Pete and smirking, as he cast a glance in your general direction, made Izzy see red.

Then it clicked. The oncoming storm. Of course. Those bastards. They knew of his past, thanks to Fang. No doubt they had told you the story too about how as a young sailor, he had not been able to keep down the contents of his stomach during a storm. Fuck, that nicknane too. You must have been revolted by him. Thought him completely and utterly pathetic. "-Look, whatever those twats have been saying, it's not true. I threw up one time-" Izzy began to defend himself, hoping it was not too late to salvage his reputation.

"-Oh, shit. No, I'm not referring to that. Fuck." you were quick to interrupt his rambling explanation. Sure, yeah, you knew the origin of his nickname, Izzy the Spewer but the story had not altered your opinion of the pirate. So, he threw up! Big deal. So had you during your first storm, and no one had bothered to call you, (y/n) the vomiter. "I just know that, storms bring up a lot of memories for some of the crew." you further explained, hoping he woukd catch the underlying meaning behind your words. "If you catch my drift?"

It took a moment but then a flicker of understanding sparked within Izzy's eyes, as he fully understand your insinuation. "Ah."

"Yeah." you smiled meekly, hoping not to trigger any unwanted memories for the pirate. All you wanted was to assure him that, if he needed comfort, you would be more than willing to provide him with comfort and company until the rain ceased and the skies became agate blue once more. "Will...will you be okay? Tonight, that is."

He knew, somewhere deep down. Deep, deep down, that your asking after his wellbeing was not an attack on his character, that you did not view him as weak for what had happened those many moon cycles ago, when the Kraken had stole him of his leg. This was your way of saying, "Hey, I'm here for you. If you need me", right?

Wrong. The poisonous voice of reasoning whispered in his ear, reminding him not to bet soft and be so sentimental. Of course you pitied him. How coukd you not? He was a disgrace. A washed up has been of a legend, who could no longer ride the coat tails of Blackbeard anymore. You were not offering him anything in the way of kindness, you were just reminding him of yet another mistake in his checkered past.

Before he could stop himself, the words left his lips and it was too late to take them back. "I'm not a fucking child, (y/n)." Izzy almost winced at how hurt you looked, as you flinched at his sudden outburst. Each time- and unfortunately, there had been more than one occasion- your pained expression left a lasting scar upon his heart. A fresh wound of regret that bled out over and over again. He did not mean to be this way with you. It was a defence mechanism, not that was much of an excuse really. Izzy should have- no, he did know- better. His sharp tongue was going to drive you away one day and he would only have hinsekf to blame. What's done was done.

There was nothing he could do, except keep up the charade and retire quickly from sight. He did not have to glance in the direction of the crew to know that they had all played witness to the entire exchange. No doubt he would have to sleep with one eye open tonight or maybe Roach would just spit in his food like last time. "Finish your tea and go fucking check the rigging. That's an order."

"Yes, boss." only minutes earlier, that nickname had been fondly used, now it just felt bitter to the taste.

Without another word, the First Mate abandoned your side and disappeared below deck.

Under the guise of work, your friends had been watching the entire exchange through side eye glances or in Lucius's case, just straight up staring.

Though idle hands appeared busy, Pete had in fact, tied the same knot several times. It was important to get everything secured ahead of the storm but in that moment, his mind was distracted. Casting a glance at the love of his life, his suspicions were confirmed, Lucius felt the same way as him- completely and utterly livid on your behalf. "Yeah, you ain't winning that money back, mate." he muttered to a frozen in rage Wee John, who merely stood holding another barrel, looking like he was contemplating throwing it at Izzy.

"Fucks sake, what a dickhead." he hissed, seemingly deciding against the idea, as he placed it with a resounding thud upon the deck.

Lucius could not stand to see you looking so hurt, as you stared longingly after the bastard who had dared upset you. The scribe knew he always teased you about your intense crush on the First Mate but it was during moments like these, where he really had to question what it was that made you so smitten with Izzy the Spewer. The man was volatile and about as pleasant as a cup of cold sick. Worst of all, this was not the first time he had stormed off after saying something cruel, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your hurt emotions. "I'm gonna go and see if they're okay."

"Maybe give it a moment, babe. Look." Pete urged his partner to take pause and watch you down your drink.

Despite wanting to abandon his post and assume the role of comforting friend, Lucius instead watched as you fought back tears and climbed the rigging, towards the crow's nest, no doubt seeking some privacy away from the watchful eyes of your friends.

"He really is the fucking worst. I genuinely do not get why (y/n) likes him so much." Archie mused, as she wondered if it was possible to find a snake at sea and put it in the bastard's bed?

With all the mysticism of a Sea Witch, the conversation was quickly intercepted by Buttons, whom decided to impart a great wisdom upon those in his vicinity. "'Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind. Therefore, is winged cupid painted blind?'"

There was a pause, as the gathered crew ruminated on his words. Well, partially ruminated. Most just sat there, looking confused or proverbially scratching their heads, unsure what to make of his revelation. Not one to admit his lack of knowledge, Lucius made a conscientious effort to nod his head and pretend he had understood the poet musings of the fellow pirate. "Right, yeah. What he said. Makes total sense."

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A/N: Thank you for reading up until the end of the chapter! I look forward to updating you all with a new instalment soon. Before I go, can anyone guess where Buttons's quote comes from?

#izzy x reader #izzy x gn!reader #x gender neutral reader #izzy hands x reader #ofmd izzy x reader #ofmd izzy #ofmd s2 #save ofmd #ofmd season 2 #ofmd fanfic #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s3 #stede bonnet #ed teach #blackbeard #the gentleman pirate #avengeofmd #avenge ofmd #our flag means death #letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse #letsdeerintheheadlights #ofmd #snow at the beach #my writing

[bougiebutchbitch]

happy izzy headcanons, off the cuff:

ed's adhd ass remembers the most random shit about him that he said one time, like that his favorite color is green, he doesn't like sweets, and he used to feed a stray cat when he was a kid (despite not remembering ostensibly more important things / things that were repeated or told to him directly. RIP iykyk etc)

he called the cat Miss Lady and sometimes to get out of "playing" with "fellow" "children" and other such tedium, he would claim she was his boss and he had to go to work for her in her estate (he's like ≤8yo or something when he pulls this)

still has not gotten much better at lying than that tbh

his parents loved each other and him and his big sister very much. they were as happy as they could be in their level of poverty, and iz's youngest years were filled with unconditional love

he and his sister both got their first jobs at the same little shop, but izzy was immediately and comically fired for being crass and rude to customers lmao (also for wearing pants)

he was part of the navy for an astounding one (1) year before being discharged - equally comically - for being the singular most insubordinate little shit ever seen. regular punishments had absolutely no effect on his behavior, and though they threatened to do worse by that point they could not catch him.

his criminal record is just as long as ed's, but the bulk of his charges are morality based. he fucks so severely it is a crime. (not that hard to do really, at the time, but he's proud of it lol.)

Jewish

was taught to read english and hebrew as a kid (Jewish communities at the time had higher literacy on average than other groups & taught girls as well as boys to read, iirc)

can buy and sell in many languages, but can't really converse. is in the process of learning spanish from jim and french from frenchie (with much more unsavory instruction provided by roach, for surprise use on frenchie lmao)

not necessarily about izzy i guess lmao, but i have a scene that runs in my head of izzy telling jim something private in spanish and jim interrupting (but not fast enough) to yell that oluwande is fluent, to which olu nervously says "no, i forgot. those words. don't use 'em much, so. you know. whoosh. gone. didn't understand any of it."

he and anne fake dated way back, to make ed and mary jealous

he and jack tried this also, after it worked for anne but not for izzy, but in the process they accidentally dated for real (jack... might have had ulterior motives lmao)

takes ye olde hrt, in the form of an herbal tea recipe that he got from a midwife who clocked him at 50 paces. they are still friends.

bottom sub leaning, but still a vers switch!!!

explores his gender further, with encouragement and some minor guidance from wee john. he has a little bit of a crisis at first, wondering if he only felt like a man because he didn't make a very pretty woman, but he talks it all through in fits and starts - primarily in out of context ambushes - with john and jim, learns more about drag, etc, and eventually gets comfortable with being a man who pretends to be a woman sometimes and just happens to be very good at it due to certain biological advantages lol

later functionally becomes ed's drag mom, the way john was for him - featuring many more instances of dressing him up like he did for the party in season one

realizes after being folded into the found family that he LOVES cuddling, and physical intimacy of all kinds. like basically discovers acts of service is actually not his only love language. nothing makes him feel more content than being physically in sync with someone.

at some point pete decides he wants to stop being all talk and actually live up to all the shit he's bragged about, but he doesn't want everyone else to know and/or there to be any witnesses to him being bad at stuff at first. so he solicits secret lessons from izzy, and izzy gives them and keeps the secret without condition.

he's basically the gordon ramsay of piracy. if you're learning and you're working at it, he's patient and attentive. if you act like you don't have anything to learn or make claims you can't back up, he calls you a fucking donkey.

grows his hair out. adores having it played with.

takes his job as "unicorn" very seriously. all of his duties are pretty much assigned to him via his own perception of what the fuck being the ship's unicorn even means, but if he says something is or isn't his job everyone goes with it without question. he sometimes abuses this fact, but only with ed lmao.

has each member of the crew add their own x to his tattoo and ends up with a little constellation of slightly differently shaped stars across his cheek/temple

SHRIEKS IN JOY

oh these are PERFECT. Excuse me while i squeal over each and every one.

I KNOW THAT PAIN, ED, BABYBOY, DARLING, PRINCESS WITH A DISORDER. He is theeeee most ADHD gremlin. He will randomly describe in perfect detail a day from 10 years ago that Izzy only has the vaguest recollection of, down to the precise inflection in whatever Izzy said to make that moment stick in his mind - but he still doesn't know Izzy's birthday sldkfhgklsdfhg

oh no. OH NO. Tha'ts horrifically cute. And I love that Izzy is a gritty old pirate who can kill without a moment's hesitation - but he cannot tell a good fib to save his life lmao. It's the 'tism

:cris and holds happy baby Izzy close:

I'm WHEEZING at tiny angry scowly Izzy getting fired from a shop for being a bastard refusing to wear a dress, saying fuck this, running away to join the Navy where the wearing of dresses is not requisite, and almost immediately getting fired for STILL BEING A BASTARD. :chinhands: it's so him

I am just. Imagining. Lucius getting hold of Izzy's criminal record in S1 before they really get to know each other. And just being supremely confused that Izzy has actually walked the walk lmao

JEWISH IZZY JEWISH IZZY JEWISH IZZY :clutches that headcanon very close to my chest:

ohhhhhh gosh I LOVE the crew teaching each other casual little things.... language tutors Jim and Frenchie and co., my favourite. I wonder if Izzy teaches them a tiny bit of Hebrew, too? Or if he keeps that very close to his chest. (I love the headcanon that he and Ed are both Jewish, and it's part of what drew them together~)

SCREAMS at Izzy accidentally Revealing Things to Olu because he doesn't realise he speaks that much Spanish.... And at Jim warning him! I also imagine that like, AS SOON as Jim gives that warning, they get the fuck in front of Oluwande with a knife, juuuust in case Izzy goes for him - but Izzy just glares at Oluwande, jerks a nod, and mutters 'first time I've given a man amnesia without having to hit him in the head'. Oluwande awkward-laughs and flees, but though Izzy's a tiny bit wary of him for a few weeks, he doesn't stab him?? So, y'know, success?

also, as ever, I am OBSESSED with Jim and Izzy being casual quiet trans buddies and helping each other out now and then. :gently pushes my headcanon of Izzy helping Jim acquire Ye Olde Top Surgery towards the fandom on a silver plate:

FAKE DATING FAKE DATING AHHHHHHHHHHH

CJIZZY AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh (I love Jack being like. 'Yeah I'll fake date you to make Ed jealous, Izzy :D Yeah, absolutely no strings attached. Yeah we're not gonna actually fuck or anything. Of course.' then pulling EVERY string available to get in Izzy's pants dsfklghkdsfgkdlsgf

YESSS TO BOTTOM SUB LEANING VERS SWITCH IZZYYYYYY he has the range, darling! I love the idea that he was Ed's service top for ages, and is legit good with a strap~ >:3c Almost as much as I love subby top Izzy who always comes too soon and goes jellylegged so his partner has to sigh and take over and fuck him into the mattress while telling him what a disappointment he is (which, ofc, only makes him wetter). ......Yes, I blame carryme for this one entirely.

TRANSMASC DRAG QUEEN IZZY TRANSMASC DRAG QUEEN IZZY - I vibe with this on a spiritual level. Also: I can imagine Izzy was REALLY rigidly 'I am a man so I have to be masculine' as a result of internalised transphobia/fear of discovery, so this whole process of realising he can do whatever the fuck he wants, actually, involves a lot of unworking of societal assumptions and confronting past traumas and fears, and Wee John only meant to share something transgressive and fun with Izzy but now Drag Hour is therapy hour too. And honestly, it's good for him and Izzy and Jim, and Izzy's expression goes this amazing mix of offended and delighted and terrified and excited whenever he realises that yes, he is allowed to present himself however he likes and he will 'still be a man'. Although I do think he might draw the line at dresses, and keep to more andro drag? Like, he tries on a pretty dress ONCE and it's a bit Too Much when he sees himself in the mirror - but that's completely okay too, and Wee John and Frenchie are more than happy to help with tailoring outfits that he actually likes!

i AM SCREAMING AT IZZY BEING ED'S DRAG MUM YES YES YES YES YES

ohhhhh.... Izzy being just an absolute cuddle magnet.... be still my heart. I like to imagine that he was too awkward to approach anyone at first, but was SUPREMELY touch starved, so he'd sneak into the cuddle pile on deck at night and then try to wake up in the morning before everyone else. But of COURSE, everyone realises and knows and thinks it's very cute and one day when he tries to make his usual escape (moving slow to try and draw out the warmth and the contact, as well as so as not to wake anyone up) Lucius sleepily grabs his wrist and grumbles, "Izzy, staaaaaay". And, well. How can Izzy say no to that?

PETE IZZY FRIENDSHIP AHHH???? I would read that fic in a heartbeat.

Vis-a-vis the Gordon Ramsey comparison: he has ABSOLUTELY called poor Stede an 'idiot sandwich'

LONG HAIR IZZYYYYYYYYY AHHHHHHHH

Izzy wearing each of the crew's little 'x' kissy marks besides Ed's.... oh, be still my heart. This one got to me. That cheek and his neck and chest are just a map of tiny stars and - OHHHHHHHHHHH you know they're all getting gently smooched

#Izzy Hands #ofmd izzy #our flag means death #ofmd edward teach #ofmd ed teach #YES EXCELLENT #ofmd jim #I AM HOLLERING

[curiositycryptid]

Pets I Think Tdi Characters Would Own

Ezekiel - He owns a rat. Do I really need to explain any more?

Eva - Probably none or something easy to take care of like uhhhh a cactus

Noah - Well he has a dog, idk if he has a name so I named him Goldie if he doesn’t. Babysits Izzy’s snake. Also has a ferret.

Justin - Several pets of all kind, most likely all with the same name so he doesn’t forget

Katie - A kitten named Sadie

Tyler - A chicken named like Kyle or something, it’s very aggressive and is the whole reason he’s scared of chickens in the first place

Izzy - She kept the purple snake that bit her and named it Boer, she sometimes uses it as a belt or hair tie or it helps her hold her stuff

Cody - A bald cat named Mr. Wrinkles and a black cat named Fortnite

Beth - That raccoon from that action challenge, don’t know what she named her but they seemed to like each other so it would make sense to keep her

Sadie - A kitten named Katie

Courtney - Brittany and probably a farm dog since they’re useful and easy to train

Harold - His red ants, he has individual names for every single one of them and remembers all of them

Trent - A toucan named Tori (I don’t even know if you’re allowed toucans as pets)

Bridgette - Bruno, obviously but she views him more as a friend than a pet

Lindsay - A Rottweiler (mostly very chill) named Edith

DJ - Bunny and Irene, he also babysits everyone’s pets at times

Geoff - Also a Rottweiler (Edith’s brother) called BroDude, he’s basically Geoff as a dog

LeShawna - A stick insect that Harold got for her, she’s named LaShaniya

Duncan - Scruffy, the chameleon from action (Courtney named it Ivy because she knew Duncan would choose a terrible name, most likely a swear) and a blue snake called Bluey who goes on play dates with Boer

Heather - Bruiser the cat, and a Skunk (might share my reasoning for this one) (also I can’t think of the skunks name so I’ll take ideas ig)

Gwen - An Iguana or sum like that named Incognito and a Crow (can’t think of a name)

Owen - A fat ginger cat (i forgot his name, I’ll edit this if I remember) he’s old with some grey hairs and can barely open his eyes, he always looks smiley and eats a lot like Owen

Alejandro - An eel.

Sierra - Cody Jr, (well only babysits him for mother condor if that’s even possible?)

#tdi #total drama #tda #tdwt #total drama island #total drama world tour #tdi headcanons #Gwen tdi #duncan tdi #owen tdi #tyler tdi #geoff tdi #alejandro tdi #Noah tdi #cody tdi #sierra tdi #Courtney tdi #bridgette tdi #izzy tdi #Trent tdi #the drama brothers #justin tdi #harold tdi #leshawna tdi #dj tdi #trent cooper #duncan tarun #courtney satella #cody anderson #cody emmett jameson anderson

[astationwagononmars]

Lego Dreamzzz: Dream Chasers and the Riddle-Spokens book obtained & read.

Favorite bits (+ spoilers) under the cut:

Logan's memory is terrible and he's proud of it.

Cooper dropped his voice to a whisper. "Do you even remember what happened at lunch?" "I don't remember anything longer than I have to," Logan proclaimed proudly. (Page 38)

It is confirmed that Sneak is supposed to resemble a cat! He is described as a "cat-shaped grimspawn with one bulbous eye" on page 75, and a "cat-like grimspawn [with] a devious mind and a lie waiting on his tongue at all times" in the glossary.

Mateo and Cooper bonding over their fear of failure was a delight, plus Cooper mentioning "parents" instead of just "mom."

Cooper looked a little stiff. "Uh, um… I don't know about that. My parents get pretty upset if I don't get things right the first time." (Page 47) [Cooper] rubbed the back of his head as he stopped in front of them. "Yeah. My parents wouldn't like to hear about me leaving class early, but I told the teacher I was friends with one of the artists." (Page 183-184)

The Night Hunter while Izzie & Mateo are arguing.

The Night Hunter blinked. "Um- excuse me, I'm trying to threaten you over here." (Page 82)

Across the square, the Night Hunter was clearly annoyed that he wasn't being paid attention to. (Page 84)

The Night Hunter has claws!

He clenched his claws menacingly. (Page 151)

It the show Bunchu is from is an anime called Bunchu Bunny Kung Fu Rabbit.

Logan responding to positive reinforcement.

"Logan! That was so smart!" Cooper ran over and clapped his shoulder. "Well, you know. Sometimes I can focus, too." Logan shrugged, smiling hesitantly at first, like he was genuinely touched by the compliment. But then he cleared his throat and turned a wink and a grin on Zoey. "What'd you think, Zoey? Pretty good, right?" She was annoyed about a lot of things. But she had to give it to him- it was smart. So she sighed, striding past him, and nodded. "Sure, Logan. Nice job." He perked up even more and and followed her across the room.

Logan attempting to be nice, being surprised when it works.

"Well, I think the judges are obviously really dumb," Logan said, way too loud, and everyone looked their way. "Z-Blob is super awesome in your drawing! Even I can't laugh at him. He should've at least won first place. The art teacher must have something in both of his eyes." Z-Blob stuck his [head out of Mateo's] backpack and gurgled, as if thanking him for the compliment. For some reason, that was all it took to break Mateo's tension, and he started to laugh. Logan looked surprised before he started grinning."

Final Thoughts:

As far as writing-quality goes, this book is about what you'd expect. It won't blow you away, but it's still good. Other than a handful of typos, I couldn't find any problems with it. Absolutely adored the characters' personalities in this story, and their subtler actions really made it for me!

#lego dreamzzz #just rambling #paying too much attention to detail #just a little bit #Lego Dreamzzz: Dream Chasers and the Riddle-Spokens #lego dreamzzz spoilers #book spoilers

[hyungseos-cafe]

Pairing: Ex-best friend!Sunwoo x GN!Reader

Genre: Angst

Warning(s): Umm?? Get ready to fight Sunwoo 👊👊 He's a wee bit manipulative here.

Word count: 1.1k+

Summary: Sunwoo + Jealousy? Impossible! Sunwoo watches his friendship with you crumbles before him as he refuses to believe his jealousy got the better of him. Is he able to hold it all together or does he let you fall through the cracks of his ego? 

A/n: I don't really remember why, but this idea suddenly popped into my mind like?? Idk a few months ago and honestly I'm kinda shocked I actually finished this idea in less than two months lol

┊⋆ ˚✯✩. Songs to listen to while reading: Wish You Well - Jeff Bernet, Heather - Conan Gray, Good Grief - Sky .✩✯⋆ ˚ ┊

Taglist: @deoboyznet @zzoguri @from-izzy @quaissants (aka the biggest sunwoo enthusiasts🤌 i hope it’s okay if i tagged you 🥺)

You, the literal definition of perfect sitting in front of me, blinding me from the world. You were my world… Until our argument… Which I kind of started, but that’s besides the point. We never fight, so when we do, things don’t always end pretty. This is one of the cases where it all went sour and unfortunately I don’t know if we can recover. 

“Sunwoo, what’s your problem? Can I not live my own life too?”

“I– I didn’t say you couldn’t”

“You said I shouldn’t have friends because they wouldn’t be able to take care of me like you. Are you saying you’re perfect? I don’t want perfect friends, I want friends that are human, Sunwoo”

“I didn’t say I was perfect! I just don’t want you hanging around them”

That was when all hell broke loose; shoes, pens, vases and even clothes were thrown around Sunwoo’s room. Truthfully there was nothing wrong with those friends you had, I just felt like you were slowly replacing me with them and I got insecure, but of course I would never tell you that, because why would I?

“Oh so there’s a ‘them’ now? I can’t believe you Sunwoo! You have friends of your own too and I don’t say anything about them! Why is it suddenly different when I have my own friends? Are you j–”

“For the last time, I am not fucking jealous or whatever the fuck you want to call it! I just don’t like your friends, okay?” 

“See, you are jealous. Simple”

You gathered your things and started heading towards the door, sadness painted all over your face. I couldn’t bear to look at you, I even missed your silent “Bye Sunwoo” as you slowly shut the door to never come back. 

We’re just friends I kept reminding myself, but if we’re just friends, why does it hurt so much to let you go then? It felt like a void was suddenly created in my heart. Everywhere I look reminds me of you. You always liked the plump blueberries, the smaller ones were too sour and you always ate your cereal before it got soggy. Your lattes always had an extra pump of sweetener and your sweaters all had little holes in them from your cat. 

Three months, that’s how long it’s been since our argument. I haven’t been on social media these three months because your face was everywhere. We still had mutual friends you hangout with and every once in a while I would receive a message from them asking what happened between us. I didn’t have the heart to tell them I got jealous. Honestly, I had nothing to be jealous of since they were good people. They were always looking after you and would call me if anything went wrong. 

You would think three months isn’t a short amount of time, but in these three months I learned one of two things. One, you got a promotion and would be sent to the next city to work the lead role of your company. Two, you moved out of your apartment into the city last month and decided not to tell me. 

I know I shouldn’t be surprised considering how poorly we left things, but I think it may be for the best. I just can’t help, but feel bad with how I treated them. I shouldn’t’ve been jealous, but I was and that’s unfortunately where I’m at now. I’m alone in my own thoughts, the thoughts that pushed them away, the thoughts that cost me my friendship. 

It’s now 6 months now that you left when I received a postcard from you in the mail. It’s a photo of you and… Someone else, you look happy. My heart sank with guilt and remorse as I flipped over the card. 

“Hey Sunwoo! Sorry I left so abruptly, but I got promoted to a new position and was transferred to a new branch in the company. I also met someone, they’re really sweet; kind of reminds me of you! I hope you’ve been well! I’m actually flying back to see some old friends and if you’re free, i’d love to see you”

I was conflicted, why would you of all people want to see me? I left things on such a sour note and yet you want to see me? It’s now a few hours before I am meeting up with you. We arranged to meet at our favorite cafe, the one where we shared all our deepest secrets, yet the biggest one I hid from you is my love for you. 

“Sunwoo, you look good”

“Thanks, you too”

I forced my response because just moments before I saw you, you were holding hands with someone else. Someone that should’ve been me, but alas, I was too late and my ego blinded me from what was in front of me this whole time. 

“Thank you for meeting me here today, I was worried you wouldn’t show up. I mean considering everything”

“What do you mean by everything?” You sat there confused, did I say the wrong thing?

“Sunwoo, you were jealous. Were you not?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” 

“So you were jealous… Cool, I don’t need to know anything else since you clearly don’t care about me and what we went through” 

You rolled your eyes and began to get up from your seat, but I couldn’t let you go, not this time. I suddenly got the courage to reach over and gently pull your wrist back.

“Wait!” I got up and continued to hold onto your wrist as we exited the cafe. 

“I’m giving you two minutes Sunwoo so you better spill or I’m leaving” You crossed your arms as you turned your head, leaning on the exterior of the cafe.

“Just hear me out, okay? I wasn’t jealous I– I just…” My thoughts suddenly left me which put a disdained expression on your face. 

“See! You’re just proving my point Sunwoo. You were jealous. End of story, I’m leaving now” You began to turn around, heading to the end of the street before turning and walking up the hill to where you were staying.

“No! Please! Just hear me out!” I was out of breath having run up the hill, but you didn’t stop. 

There was no point. I fucked up, I couldn’t find the words to tell you how much life you added back into me. You were the light of my life and yet, I put yours out. Honestly, I don’t know what to do anymore. You were my person, the person I went to for advice, the person I went to for comfort, but now I have to comfort myself. 

All those years of friendship are now over since I tossed everything to the side because I couldn’t suck up my jealousy. I never imagined myself to be the jealous type, but with you, you were different. I thought– No. I think– I don’t know. I have to find my own happiness, to find my own drive and maybe when you’re ready, we could be friends again. 

Until then, I’ll walk on my own.

#hyungseos-cafe #deoboyznet #brown sugar ube iced coffee with oat milk #the boyz #the boyz scenarios #the boyz angst #angst #the boyz sunwoo #tbz sunwoo #kim sunwoo #order status: complete

[ayashitetsuko]

Izzy had to go on a business trip. He told his spouse Jim about this on their afternoon walks, and Jim was unexpectedly excited: their girlfriend Archie would be in the same city at the same time.

“Please, you two should hang out!”

Izzy didn’t give an answer right away. Sure, not a bad idea. He liked Archie; he approved of her relationship with Jim. Heck, they had had threesomes a few times. But he was still unsure about going out with Archie without Jim.

“Yeah, okay.” But he remained vague with the answer and did not do anything to follow up.

Jim was over the moon. They even offered to arrange the accommodations after the two’s business in the city was done. “Ooooh this is cool, you get to spend the weekend together!” Their group chat was filled with these messages. It was almost as if Jim shipped their girlfriend and husband.

The trip happened. Jim sent both of them to the airport. For the first few days, Archie and Izzy were busy with work matters. They called Jim back home to talk about their day, separately.

It wasn’t until the last day of work that Archie sent this pic to their group chat with the message: “Otw to steal your husband”

“OMG pls do yasssss”

“You two are aware that I’m not a dead object, right?”

“Lol sorry papi x”

“S ok birdie xx otw to pick up the devil now”

“Hey I heard that”

So Izzy went to see Archie. He hugged and kissed her lightly on the lips when they met, but otherwise they acted just like good friends when they went for dinner. Even when they checked in at the hotel, they opted for twin bed. So on the first night, they slept on separate beds. Nothing happened.

Jim was disappointed.

“You shared a room and nothing happened!? Que!? Why? 😢”

“Ah we’re tired, sweetheart. Old bones.”

“Birdie, have you fed Jojo?”

“Jojo is fine! I need you guys to talk!”

“We talked. Unless talk is how you married couples are calling it these days.”

“GAH!”

Archie and Izzy just laughed. They went on to do more touristy things that day. Checking out the biggest bookstore in town (“Birdie, are you sure you don’t want this special edition Star Wars thing?” // “😤”), buying chocolate for people at home (“How many nieces do you actually have at home?” // “Ah, that’s me, I’m my own niece”).

That night, something quite different happened.

Archie and Izzy went for a drink and after a few glasses, and their laughter became unbearable, they found themselves sitting closer to each other—none of them tried to move farther when their skin accidentally brushed. Izzy even moved slightly closer to Archie; he began to speak to her in whispers. At some point, he playfully traced the skin in her upper arm.

Archie knew what this meant. “Wanna go back and make your little spouse’s dream come true?”

Izzy chuckled. He pulled Archie closer when he felt her arms on his shoulders. “I have an idea. Let’s go back now.” The two of them kissed. “We’ll make this fun.”

Later, in the wee hours, as they slept with Jojo by their side, Jim received something on their phone.

It was a video.

It opened with a scene of Archie lying on her stomach. She was obviously naked. “Hey babe. Someone wants to say hi.” Then Izzy appeared on camera, exactly behind Archie. He did nothing but to kiss Archie’s naked shoulder and winked at the camera. “Wish you were here, babe.” Then Archie placed her phone in such a way that it was able to record everything that she and Izzy were doing; all their activities in clear view.

Jim bit their fingers in excitement when they saw their husband pulling Archie’s hair as he fucked her from behind. They squealed happily whenever Archie and Izzy kissed. When the two reached orgasm, Jim screamed so loudly that it kicked Jojo off the bed.

The cat walked away from its owner. He stared back at Jim with a judging, disapproving look.

—

Read my Archie x Izzy x Jim smut here.

#izzy hands #modern au #jim jimenez #ficlet #ofmd fics #archie ofmd #polyamory #smut #fluff

[mosviqu]

things/aesthetic you associate with your moots please!

this was in my inbox for over a month i am so sorry anon... anyways. here goes nothing. not doing aesthetics bc thats a lot of effort but here is how i 'see' my friends ig :p

@satoruly - champagne, voice memos, the ocean, the beach, the metamorphosis by franz kafka, tokyo revengers, movie reviews, manga, shopping, indoor plants, sunsets, partying, singing, the bass, i dont do drugs by ariana grande and doja cat, anime, mini skirts, cherries, digital cameras, the color red, shinichiro sano, sand, headphones, random spanish thrown in convo, hearts, gojo satoru, croptops, manga, late night walks in a busy town, izana, gossiping with your best friend, ambition, the feeling of home, endless mutual understanding, passion, freedom, soulmates.

@csenke - monchichi dolls, sylvanian families, minecraft, streamers, the streets of budapest, instagram dumps, sunwoo, afternoon walks, playgrounds, random vlogs u record with your best friends, the colors yellow green and tan, enhypen, mona lisa by dominic fike, random german words, hanging posters in your room, late night conversations, pretty architecture, silly selfies, the excitement of unboxing your packages, changmin, spiderman, chimney cake, Á, lovejoy, candy, loverboy hats, platonic neighbors (yes that exists).

@from-izzy - woodz, bunnies, psychology textbooks, coffee shops, matcha, late night conversations, talking in all caps, excitement, running to catch the bus, making spotify playlists in the middle of the night, protectiveness, the color tan, bicycles, gratefulness, sharing your worries with someone, cloudy skies, the sound of birds chirping outside of your window in the morning, laying in the grass.

@heemingyu - meme reactions, milkshakes, playful banter, inside jokes, playful annoyance at your friends, learning how to drive in an empty parking lot, keyboard smashes, iced tea, sibling-like energy, comfortable hoodies, silent support, instagram reels in your dms as a form of love language, comfort tv shows in your bed.

@sungbeam - admiration, being proud of your friends, watching someone from afar, brainstorming with someone on the same wavelength, literature, baby blue by luke hemmings, dc comics, fic banners, star girl energy, the weird familiarity of a college dorm room, demon changmin, the summer break, doing ordinary things with your music playing lowly in the background, post-it notes on your wall, pancakes for breakfast.

@juyeonszn - cats, supportive comments under instagram posts, lying for fun, feeling yourself when you go clubbing with your best friends, lipgloss, tattoos, roadtrips, concerts, taking polaroids on a night out, flirting with your friends, screaming a song on the top of your lungs.

@zzoguri - valorant, childhood friends vibes, meeting someone and feeling like you've known them for ages, jacob bae, gaming, discord calls, italy, journalism, the friends you meet in university, found family, warm soup on sundays, laufey, day6.

@kimsohn - delusional conversations, talking shit with your honest friends, juyeon, typing really fast on your keyboard, understanding each others typos, editing, yunjin, being in love with women, confidence, yeehaw, iconic energy.

#if youre my moot you dont judge yall know i speak vibes only #only did the ones i talk to the most lately im sorry for leaving anyone out 😗

[lemonlyman-dotcom]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @iboatedhere 🛶🍋

—

“Hey buddy, what’s got you down?” Marjan asks as she enters the kitchen. She’s entirely too cheerful for the mood TK’s in. He’s sitting on a stool at the counter, looking down at his phone. [redacted for spoilers]

“What do you mean?” he asks, looking up at Marjan as she crosses towards the back counter. “I’m not down.”

“TK, you’ve been moping around all afternoon,” she answers with her back to him. “We rescued a cat from a Goodwill drop off box on that call earlier and you didn’t even want to cuddle her and give her a ridiculous name. Paul made lasagna for lunch and you barely took two bites. Something’s up.”

“Carlos made a big breakfast,” he says, rubbing his stomach for emphasis. “I wasn’t really hungry.”

She fixes him with an unconvinced look. “You’re always hungry for Paul’s lasagna.”

“Fine,” he sighs, dramatically dropping his phone to the counter. “I’m worried about Nancy.”

“Oh yeah?” Marjan asks, pulling a mug out of the cupboard. “What’s going on with her?”

“Well, she’s been acting kind of strange ever since the ambulance got shot at,” he says.

“Understandable,” Marjan grabs the electric tea kettle from behind the sink and starts to fill it, turning to face TK once it’s on its heating element and she’s switched it on. “What’s strange?”

“She’s been kind of spacey, doesn’t really want to talk about it,” he says as he starts to fiddle with the string of his hoodie. “She got really skittish when I asked her if she’s been talking to anybody about it.”

“Okay,” Marjan says as she rips open a tea packet, decaf earl grey. “That all sounds about right after being shot at at work.”

[redacted

redacted

redacted]

“TK, I love you, you are an amazing friend,” Marjan says with a sympathetic look on her face as she pours the hot water into her tea and leaves it to steep, walking around the counter to take a seat next to TK.

“Why do I sense a but coming?” He drops the hoodie string as she sits down on the stool closest to him and places a hand on his knee, squeezing lightly. She's still got that sympathetic look on her face.

“No but,” she smiles. “You just have a tendency to get a little …over-invested.”

“Over invested?”

“Yeah, it’s sweet, really.”

“I don’t think—”

“She’s right, you know,” says Paul as he saunters in from around the corner. God, TK didn’t even realize he was there.

“I don’t get over-invested,” TK whines. “I just love my friends and I want them to be happy.”

“I know, bud, and that’s great.” Marjan says.

“Remember when you forced me to go out clubbing with you and Carlos when that girl I was seeing dumped me?” Paul says with a pointed look.

“Well, yeah… but—” TK says.

“That was really cool of you, and I had a great time,” Paul continues, “but it was a little pushy.”

“Oh, and the time you threatened that kid in Izzie’s class because she said he was mean to her,” Marjan says with a laugh as she leans over the counter to pull her tea towards herself. “Captain Vega had to walk that back so hard.”

“Oh my god, I am a terrible friend,” TK says. “I’m pushy and I get over-involved. How did I not see it?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Paul puts a placating hand up from where he stands on the other side of Marjan. “Pull yourself out of the shame spiral, baby boy. That is not what we’re saying.”

“No, TK, you’re an incredible friend,” Marjan says as she leans over to put an arm around TK’s shoulders. “You’re honestly my best friend.”

“One of my best friends,” she quickly corrects after Paul fixes her with a look. “I always know you’ll be there for me when I’m sad, I don’t even need to call you. Somehow you just know. Dude, when my dad got sick you flew with me to Miami! Who does that?”

TK smiles at the memory. He remembers Marjan calling him in tears, her dad had been diagnosed with a rare cancer and she was so scared. He insisted that he’d go home with her for a bit, get her settled at her parents’ place and help out as much as he could. She was shocked, but he knew in that moment that if it were him, if his dad had been halfway across the country when he found out about his cancer diagnosis, he would’ve been in no condition for a solo three-hour flight and then to support his dad through treatments and everything else. If he could be there for her just for moral support, if nothing else, he would do anything in his power to make it happen.

“You drove us to doctors’ appointments and the pharmacy so me and my mom could just focus on my dad,” she continues, dunking the tea bag in and out of her mug. “You picked up groceries, oh my god and you destroyed my mom’s kitchen trying to make Carlos’s mom’s chili relleno because you said it always makes you feel better when she makes it.”

“I thought your mom was gonna hate me for that.” It was truly an epic disaster. He’d had to Facetime Carlos, who kindly but firmly told him to throw in the towel on that one. Instead Carlos, the sweet bastard, called a nearby Mexican restaurant and had an elaborate spread of his favorite comfort dishes delivered to the Marwani house.

He still hasn't lived down the “fold in the cheese” jokes from Carlos and Marjan from that one.

“No way,” Marjan’s got a mischievous smile on her face now. “My mom loves you. She asks about you pretty much every time I talk to her. Honestly, I think she’s a little disappointed you’re not straight, single and Muslim.”

TK feels his entire face go red, “Oh, god.”

“Yeah, man, you are an amazing friend,” Paul says. “You’re reliable and loyal, and you’re so damn compassionate.”

“You just have to…” Marjan trails off.

“Let people feel their own shit,” Paul finishes her thought.

“Let people feel their own shit?” TK asks incredulously.

“Yeah, sometimes you have to just let people go through it,” Paul says with a shrug. He moves around the counter and puts a finger on the electric kettle. Determining it’s still warm, he pulls a mug and tea bag out and begins making his own tea. He gestures to TK, wordlessly offering him a cup.

“If Nancy’s hurting and she doesn’t wanna talk about it there’s not much you can do but be there for her,” Marjan says. “Just make sure you’re around. If she needs you she’ll reach out.”

—

Tagging @carlos-in-glasses @lightningboltreader @rmd-writes & @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut and you

#wip wednesday #I started this on Sunday and it’s already 10k #send help #tarlos #911 ls #911 lone star #tarlos fic #911 ls fic #911 lone star fic

[krat395]

A "Purrfect" Sleepover

First story of 2024, y'all! :D And what I have here is a request that I did for @godofwaterbreathing. He wanted a story about his OC, a Neko boy named Lucas, having some tickle-related fun at a sleepover with five other kiddos. And four of those five kiddos just so happen to be Frisk, Chara, Asriel, and MK; the “core four” of my Main Series. As for the fifth one… well, I'll just let you find that out for yourselves. ;) Also, this happens to be a story where some of the character's ages are different from that of my personal headcanon. The kids are still the same ages but some of the adult characters between the ages of 18 and 29 in my headcanon on the other hand have been aged up. You'll find out why once you read the story.

Undertale(c) Toby Fox.

A “PURRFECT” SLEEPOVER

It is Saturday afternoon, early October, and later today, Frisk, Chara, and Asriel will be having a sleepover at their mother's house. Nothing big, just a small gathering with three of their closest friends: MK, Izzy, and their newest friend, Lucas, whom they met during their summer vacation. Lucas is a 12-year-old African American Neko boy; half cat, half human; with blue eyes, medium-length black hair, black cat ears, a black cat tail, and a black birthmark on his right cheek that looks like a paw print. He's a nice boy but also very shy; unlike his mother, Catty. That's right. Catty (who is 30+ years old in this story, along with several other characters that are 18-29 years old in my headcanon) is Lucas's mother. And his father is a human male that left when he was born, thinking that Lucas wasn't his child. Sad. :( But he and Catty got by in life without him though. Surprising considering the number of people that used to berate Lucas just for being a Neko, people often calling him a hybrid in a mean and offensive way. Before Lucas met Frisk, Chara, Asriel, and MK, he would always hide his ears and tail so no one would berate him for his physical appearance. And he did so again when he met Frisk, Chara, Asriel, and MK for the first time, fearing that they might do the same. But a few weeks later, after becoming more and more comfortable around the four of them and finding out how trusting and kind-hearted they all were, he worked up the courage to reveal to them that he’s a human-cat hybrid. And after revealing to the four of them that he's a human-cat hybrid, not a day went by without Frisk and Chara petting and/or scratching his ears. X3 They adore Lucas so much. And so will Izzy before the end of the day both Frisk and Chara are sure! The little blonde-haired human girl herself has been wanting to meet Lucas for some time now after hearing so much about him from Frisk, Chara, Asriel, and MK and tonight’s sleepover will be a perfect opportunity for her to finally do just that. ;) But first things first. Snacks for the sleepover! A sleepover isn't a sleepover without snacks and the Dreemurr kids know just the thing. Donuts from Muffet's bakery! :D The Dreemurr kids, MK, and Lucas were all in the mood for Muffet's signature donuts. So they then rode their bikes over to Muffet’s bakery/house to grab some. Then once they arrived there, the Dreemurr kids and MK made no hesitation to go inside. But Lucas on the other hand was hesitant to go inside. One thing worth mentioning about Lucas is that he has immensely bad arachnophobia. If he is spooked by a spider, real or fake, he'll jump straight into the air, yowl like an angry cat (but in a scared way), and cling to the ceiling above him with his claws until someone either gets rid of the spider(s) or pulls him down themselves. And because Lucas has bad arachnophobia, the Dreemurr kids and MK all told him ahead of time that he didn't have to go inside the bakery if he didn't want to and that he could therefore just wait outside while they grab the donuts. But because Lucas is trying to get over his fear of spiders, he ended up going inside the bakery anyway, only to end up clinging to the ceiling the very second he saw Muffet herself. And he didn't come down until he knew for sure that Muffet was out of everyone's field of vision.

Muffet: Oh, bonjour, Lucas. *Muffet greeted Lucas politely the moment he stepped inside her bakery*

Lucas: *gasp* MEEEEEEEOOOOOOOW!!! *yowled Lucas upon seeing Muffet, right as he jumped high into the air and attached to the ceiling above him* MEEEEEEOOOOOOOOW!!! *he yowled once more, his tail puffed out and trembling with fear*

Frisk: Aw, Lucas. It's ok. *uttered Frisk, trying to comfort Lucas* Oh well. At least you tried to conquer your fear.

Chara: Heh. Yeah. And hey, you lasted longer than all the other times. (Not really but I thought that saying that might help him feel better.)

Muffet: Aww! Poor kitty. Well, that's my cue to leave the room. See you again real soon, dearies.

MK: Bye, Muffet!

Asriel: Thanks again for the donuts.

Muffet: Ahuhuhuhu~ You're very welcome. Take care.

As soon as Muffet left the room, Lucas got off the ceiling only to end up jumping right back up there the moment he felt one of Muffet’s spiders crawling on his tail. A garnet-colored spider named Genevieve to be exact. She had been crawling around the bakery long before Lucas and company arrived. And since she adores Lucas so much, she just had to crawl on him as a means of showing affection. Big mistake! Because once Lucas jumped up to the ceiling, she instantly fell off of him. But thankfully, MK caught her before she could fall too far. He caught her with his long scaly tail and with her clinging to said tail, he then proceeded to walk out of the room to where Muffet was standing while she was waiting for Lucas to leave.

Muffet: Genevieve, what on Earth were you thinking crawling on Lucas like that?! Do you have a death wish?! The boy’s afraid of spiders for goodness’ sake! *yelled Muffet, holding her middle right hand next to MK’s tail so Genevieve could then crawl on said hand* Thank you, MK. You're too kind. Now you and your little friends have a fun sleepover, ok. *she then said politely to MK, thanking him for helping Genevieve to safety*

MK: Hehe. We will, Muffet! See you later. (Wow. Muffet seemed pretty upset. Hope she’s not too hard on Genevieve after what she did.)

And with that, Frisk, Chara, Asriel, MK, and Lucas, after getting pulled off of Muffet's ceiling by the aforementioned kids, headed outside of Muffet's bakery/house with two boxes of assorted donuts, much to Lucas's relief. Then not long afterwards, the five kids rode their bikes back to Toriel's house; Asriel riding on his red bike with one box of a dozen donuts in its gold basket, Chara on her green bike with the other box of a dozen donuts in its silver basket, and Frisk, MK, and Lucas following directly behind them. Then once the five kids arrived back at Toriel's house, they all just hung out together until Izzy showed up. They didn't want to start the sleepover without Izzy and luckily for the five of them, they didn't have to wait too long for her to show up at the house. And once the little blonde-haired girl herself stepped inside the house after being dropped off by her adoptive mother, Heidi, the first thing she did, right after kicking off her pink flip flops, was introduce herself to Lucas. She was so excited to meet Lucas and while Lucas himself didn't say too much to her when they first met, that didn't stop her from giving his ears a little scratch. And by scratching Lucas's ears, she had caused Lucas himself to purr in response, which did nothing but fuel her desire to learn more about him. It was at that point that Frisk and Chara knew that Lucas had made a good first impression on Izzy and vice versa. But to really seal the deal, they'd have to spend some more time together. And luckily for them, they have all night to get to know each other better, doing various activities together along with the Dreemurr kids and MK. And there's one such activity that the Dreemurr kids, MK, and Izzy are hoping will do wonders over all the others. And that activity is… tickle time! :D The Dreemurr kids, MK, and Izzy all love their tickle time and they're hoping that Lucas will as well. And he should, based on everything his mother, Catty has told the Dreemurr kids and MK. Lucas doesn't know it, but Catty has secretly told the Dreemurr kids and MK about how she tickles him and how much he enjoys being tickled by her. And if everything she's told them is indeed true, then Lucas will surely be in for a fun time. ;)

Later that night… in the living room of Toriel's home… after several sleepover activities…

Izzy: Heeheeheehee! Well, that sure was fun, you guys! *commented Izzy, shortly after finishing a scavenger hunt with the other kids* Man, you really went all out with this sleepover! *she added, pointing out how the Dreemurr kids have done more than they usually do with their friends during sleepovers*

Frisk: Heeheeheehee! We had to, Izzy. Chara, Asriel, and I don't get to see you and MK as much now that we're in middle school.

Frisk, Chara, and Asriel were all very grateful to spend time with Izzy and MK, two sixth graders at Ebott Elementary School, on this particular night. Ever since the three of them started seventh grade in a new building entirely (Ebott Junior High School), they haven't gotten to see them (or Brad, Justin, Patty, Kyle, and GK) nearly as much as they did when they were all in elementary school together. So that's why they did more activities than usual during this sleepover, to get the most out of their visit. And Izzy and MK both appreciated that very much. Though especially the latter as well as Lucas, due to an opportunity to see Frisk, Chara and Izzy in their PJs. The two boys thought that the three human girls all looked really cute in their PJs; Frisk in a pair of blue flannel pants and a magenta t-shirt over a black long sleeve shirt, Chara in a white t-shirt and green pajama bottoms, and Izzy in a light pink and white striped tank top and pink flannel pants. And as for their footwear, they had none. All three girls were barefoot in their PJs. And so were natural barefooters Asriel and MK; the former in a green t-shirt and black shorts and the latter in a red sleeveless shirt and brown flannel pants. But Lucas on the other hand had on white socks with his PJs, which consisted of a Demon Slayer shirt and green flannel pants. Though probably not for much longer because once tickle time starts, those socks will likely be coming off. Especially if his friends are planning to tickle his feet! Sure, they could just tickle his feet with his socks on but where's the fun in that? ;)

Izzy: Heh. That's true, you don't. Well thank you for going all out for us.

MK: Hehe. Yeah, thanks, you guys.

Asriel: You're welcome. And we'll be sure to do the same with Brad and Justin one of these days and Patty, Kyle, and GK as well. *stated Asriel, wanting to hang out with the aforementioned kids sometime in the near future*

Chara: Hehe. So many of you kiddos. *Chara chimed in, referring to elementary school students as kiddos now that she's in middle school*

Izzy: Heeheehee! That's right! X3

Frisk: Hehe. Yes. And would this kiddo be interested in starting that activity that we think might help Lucas here feel more comfortable about talking to you.

Lucas: Eeeeep! F-Frisk! *exclaimed Lucas, blushing red with embarrassment*

Izzy: Eeeeeeeee! Yes! Yes, please, yes!

Frisk: Heeheehee! Well, Lucas. You heard the little lady. *said Frisk, calling Izzy a little lady despite only being one year older than her* Let's get our butts upstairs and do this thing.

Lucas: O-o-ok, Frisk. And what's this thing we'll be doing?

Chara: Heeheeheehee! You'll see…

And with that, the six kids headed upstairs to Frisk and Chara’s bedroom. Lucas didn't know it but once he and the other five kids arrived in said bedroom, tickle time would start. And the other five kids had the decency to give him a heads up about it before they started doing it, Frisk and Chara informing him of the things that Catty had told them prior to the sleepover and Asriel and MK standing guard at the door in case Lucas tried to run away.

Frisk: Now, Lucas, don't be mad at your mom, but I spoke to her about things you enjoy doing with her and she told us that one of those things was tickling, is that correct?

Lucas: Eeeeeeeep! *squealed Lucas, blushing red with embarrassment* U-u-ummmm, w-w-well…

Chara: Heeheehee! I'll take that as a yes. And you'll be pleased to know that we do too! All five of us!

Lucas: You… you do?

Izzy: Heeheehee! Yes! We all just plain love our tickle time! Provided that it's all in good fun, of course.

Frisk: Heeheehee! Yeah… like what I'm about to do to Azzy here! *exclaimed Frisk, seconds before digging her fingers into Asriel's sides directly in front of him*

Asriel: Hey, wait a second! PFFFFFFFF-HAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHA!!! *Asriel laughed preciously, dancing in place as Frisk ever so gingerly kneaded his sides* FRIHIHIHISK, NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Lucas: (Awwww! X3) *thought Lucas to himself upon witnessing Asriel being tickled*

Chara: Heeheehee! Hey, I wanna get in on this too! *exclaimed Chara, dashing over towards Asriel to claw at his belly, which in turn made him sink down to the floor*

Asriel: EEEEEEEEEEEEP!!! HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! *Asriel laughed even harder, moments before leaning against the door behind him and sinking down to the floor until he was in an upright sitting position with his legs straight out in front of him and his soles exposed for tickling* CHAHAHAHARA, HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, NOHOHO, NOT YOU TOOOOOOOOHOOHOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOOHOO!!! HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!! *SNORT* HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!

Izzy: Heeheeheehee! Ooh, now it's my turn to join in! *cooed Izzy, mere seconds before leaning over Asriel's legs with his ankles sandwiched between her knees and scribbling her fingers ever so gingerly against his snow white soles*

Asriel: EEEEEEP!!! NOHOHO, IZZY, DON'T-BWAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! *Asriel laughed especially hard once Izzy joined in and tickled his feet* OH MY~ HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! GOOHOOHOOD GOSH GOHOHOHOLLY!!!! *he exclaimed through his laughter, wiggling and splaying his toes uncontrollably with every passing second he felt ten skilled fingers scribbling against his soles* BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!! *SNORT* GYEEEHEEHEEHEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEHEEHEHEEHEE!!!!

To try and help Lucas feel more comfortable about being tickled by them, Frisk, Chara and Izzy all felt that they should tickle at least one of the other boys first, to show him that what they were intending to do to him was all in good fun. And of the two boys to tickle before Lucas, they chose to tickle Asriel. And that was simply because it had been a while since Izzy last tickled Asriel. Izzy loves tickling fluffy boys and Asriel reminds her so much of her own fluffy brother, Bastian; her big bunny bro. X3 But she loves tickling scaly boys as well; like her friend and classmate, MK. And little did MK know; he would be tickled by each of the three human girls shortly after they were finished tickling Asriel. They simply couldn't tickle one precious monster boy without tickling the other. No siree!

Minutes later…

Asriel: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Frisk: Heeheeheehee! Ok, ready, Chara? *asked Frisk, right as she stopped tickling Asriel, prompting Chara and Izzy to do the same*

Chara and Izzy: Heeheeheehee! Ready, Frisk!

After a moment of silence…

Chara: Hey, MK! Guess what! You're next! *exclaimed Chara in a singsongy voice whilst holding up her hands and wiggling her fingers, making MK nervous enough to dash forward without thinking; and by dashing forward without thinking, MK ended up tripping and falling face-down against the floor, leaving him open for Frisk, Chara, and Izzy to tickle him without a single care in the world*

MK: Eeeeeeeeep!!! Oh no, not again!!! Oooooooof!!!

Frisk: Quick! Before he gets up!

With that said, the three human girls scooted towards MK and pinned him down before he could stand back up; Frisk holding his left robotic arm down against the floor with her bare feet pressed against the left half of his torso, Chara holding his right robotic arm down against the floor with her bare feet pressed against the right half of his torso, and Izzy kneeling over his legs and tail with his ankles and the end of his tail sandwiched between her knees. Then without a second thought, the three human girls began tickling MK, Frisk wiggling her toes against the left half of his torso on the outside of his shirt, Chara wiggling her toes against the right half of his torso on the outside of his shirt, and Izzy wiggling her fingers against his soles and toes as well as in between his toes.

MK: EEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!! *squealed MK the moment he felt twenty toes wiggling against his torso and ten fingers wiggling against his scaly feet; everywhere on his soles, toes, and in between his toes* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! *he laughed preciously, twitching his tail and robotic arms while they were being held down, trying to break free but to no avail* OHOHOHOHOH NOHOHOHOHO!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! OHOHOHOH NOHOHOHO, NOT THAHAHAHAT!!! *he then pleaded, blushing tomato-red due to Frisk and Chara tickling him with their toes and Izzy simply tickling his feet* HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! *SQUEAK* EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!! EEEEEEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!

Chara: Heeheehee! Now, MK, we know you don't mean that! Not while Frisk and I are tickling you with our pretty toes!

Izzy: Heeheehee! And while I'm tickling your tootsies!

MK: HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!! DANG IT, YOU THREE CUHUHUHUTIES!!! HAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! YOHOHOU’RE KILLING MEEEEEEEEEEEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!! *SQUEAK* GYEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE HEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!

Frisk: Heeheeheehee! Thanks! We'll take that as a compliment, you lovable lizard you! X3

Frisk, Chara, and Izzy all know what MK loves and all three human girls were happy to give that to him before tickling Lucas together. MK was in seventh heaven with two cute human girls tickling his torso with their toes and a third cute human girl scribbling her fingers against his overly sensitive feet, not wanting any of them to stop by the time they decided to release him. But they had to release him though! Because if they didn't stop tickling MK, they would've never gotten around to tickling Lucas…

Minutes later…

MK: HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Frisk: Heeheeheehee! Ok, ladies, that's probably good enough, don't you think? *asked Frisk the moment she stopped tickling MK, prompting both Chara and Izzy to do the same*

Chara and Izzy: Heeheehee! Yeah, probably.

MK: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!! No, dohohohohohon’t stohohohohop!! *begged MK, still laughing and giggling due to lingering ticklish sensations* Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!

Chara: Heeheehee! Sorry, Lizzy boy, but we have to!

Izzy: Yeah, don't you want the same to happen to Lucas?

MK: Hahahahahahahahahaha!! Ok, that's fair!! Hahahahahahahahaha!! Go ahead!! *squeak* Heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeeheeheehee!!

With that said, the three human girls then turned their attention to Lucas, slowly approaching him one by one; Frisk first, Chara second, and Izzy third.

Frisk: Heeheeheehee! Well, Lucas… how do you feel about the three of us tickling you now? Are you ready? *asked Frisk, wondering if tickling both Asriel and MK beforehand has helped Lucas feel more comfortable about being tickled altogether*

Lucas: U-u-ummmm, y-y-yeah. I… I think so. *uttered Lucas, both nervous and excited to be on the receiving end of tickles from three little human girls*

Chara: Heeheehee! Good to hear.

Izzy: And don't worry, we'll go easy on you to start. *assured Izzy, giving Lucas's ears a quick scratch* Right, ladies?

Frisk and Chara: Oh yeah, most definitely!

Lucas: G-good… *gulp*

Moments later, Frisk and Chara directed Lucas to lie down on the floor in a spot where they had placed numerous blankets. The two girls not only wanted Lucas to be comfortable whilst being tickled but they also wanted plenty of room for them and Izzy to maneuver. And once Lucas lied down on a floor on top of the blankets in a T position on his back, the three girls officially started tickling him. One by one the three human girls tickled Lucas. And the first of the three girls to tickle him was Frisk. Kneeling next to Lucas's head, Frisk grabbed a hold of both of his cat ears and tickled them to her heart’s content, wiggling her index fingers and thumbs on either the inside or outside of them with every passing second, until it was one of the other girls’ turns to tickle him.

Lucas: Pfffffffff…Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!! *Lucas laughed, shaking his head lightly the entire time Frisk tickled his ears* Oh wohohohow!! *Squeak* Heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee!!

Frisk: Heeheeheehee! I love what I'm hearing so far. *cooed Frisk, adoring Lucas's reactions to the ear tickles*

After one minute, Frisk stopped tickling Lucas and let another one of the girls have a turn. Next up was Chara, who was kneeling off to his right, and she scribbled her fingers against his legs of all places. From his thighs all the way down to his ankles, not a single inch of Lucas's legs was left untouched. And as Chara tickled Lucas's legs, she induced more frantic reactions and laughter from Lucas. His legs are a little more ticklish than his ears, which she and Frisk were informed of beforehand by Catty, but she wanted to find out for herself. And she was more than pleased to find out that Catty had indeed told her the truth. And whichever spot Izzy tickles after Chara finishes tickling his legs should be more ticklish…

Lucas: Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!!! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!! *Lucas laughed harder than before, his legs twitching lightly as Chara scribbled her fingers against them ever so gingerly* Holy… Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!!! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!

Chara: Heeheehee! Having fun, Lucas? *asked Chara, not expecting an answer as she continued scribbling her fingers against Lucas's legs*

Lucas: Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!! Yeheheheheheah!!! *Lucas frantically answered through his laughter, trying his best to keep his legs still for Chara* Heeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheeheehee!!!

After Chara stopped tickling Lucas's legs, it was then Izzy's turn to tickle Lucas. And the spots she tickled were indeed more ticklish than his legs. She tickled his sides and to effectively tickle his sides, she kneeled over him with his thighs sandwiched between her knees, trapping him underneath her and giving herself all of the freedom she needed to scribble her fingers against them and squeeze them to her heart's content. And for even more effective tickles, Frisk held his arms down to prevent him from inadvertently smacking Izzy.

Lucas: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! *squealed Lucas, jolting backwards at the lightest touch to both of his sides* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *he laughed harder than before, indicating that Izzy had indeed found some sweet spots of his* OHOHOH, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, OHOHOH THAT TIHIHIHIHICKLES! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHA! *SQUEAK* GYEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!

Izzy: Heeheeheehee! Awww! Of course it does, you cutie. *cooed Izzy, causing Lucas to blush in response* Heeheeheehee! Oh, you are just so cute when you laugh.

Lucas: HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA! *laughed Lucas once more, wiggling and squiggling in a cute manner underneath Izzy* THAHAHAHAHANKS! *he then shouted through his laughter, unsure of how to respond to such a nice compliment whilst laughing* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *SQUEAK* HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEEHEEHEEEHEEHEE!

After Izzy finished tickling Lucas's sides, it was once again Frisk's turn to tickle him. She was still kneeling next to Lucas's head but instead of tickling his ears a second time, she dug her fingers into the hollows of his armpits, causing him to just plain scream with laughter. His armpits were even more sensitive and as a means of dealing with the tickling to said armpits, he flailed his arms every which way, only to end up stopping once Asriel and MK kneeled next to him and held his arms down; Asriel holding down his right arm and MK holding down his left.

Lucas: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA!! OHOHOHOH NOHOHOHO!! HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOHOHO, DON'T… *pleaded Lucas through his more frantic laughter the moment he felt Asriel and MK grabbing his arms and holding them against the floor* EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHA!! *SQUEAK* KYEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!

Frisk: Heeheehee! Thanks, you guys. He was starting to get really crazy there!

Asriel: Heeheehee! Yeah, just like you do when we tickle you there, my dear sister. *teased Asriel*

MK: Hehe. He's right! *MK agreed*

Frisk: Oh, you boys… I must say, you're really lucky I'm tickling Lucas at the moment… *claimed Frisk, informing both Asriel and MK that she would be tickling them just for teasing her if she wasn't busy tickling Lucas*

Lucas: HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! GO AHEHEHEHEHEAD AND TICKLE, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA, AZZY AND MK IF YOU WANT, FRISK!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! I WOHOHOHON’T MIND!! *SQUEAK* HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!

As tempting as it was to adhere to Lucas's request to tickle Asriel and MK, Frisk focused on the task at hand. That being, tickling Lucas and only Lucas. She, Chara, and Izzy just had to give him a proper tickle treatment. And as soon as Frisk finished tickling Lucas's armpits, Chara traded places with Izzy and scribbled her fingers all over his belly on the outside of his shirt, causing him to laugh even harder. Lucas's belly was even more sensitive than his armpits and he was laughing so hard that tears were beginning to form in his eyes.

Lucas: PFFFFFFFHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! OHOHOH NOHOHOHO, NOT THE BEHEHELLY TOOOHOOHOOHOO!!! MEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEHEEHEHEEHEEHEEHEHEEHEE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA!!! OH, I'M SOHOHO TICKLISH THERE, STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Chara: Heeheeheehee! Keep going? You got it! *teased Chara, mere seconds before lifting up Lucas's shirt and scribbling his fingers against his bare belly*

Lucas: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!! *shrieked Lucas, his eyes open so wide the moment he felt Chara’s fingers touching the bare skin of his stomach* HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! *he laughed hysterically, right as he began kicking his legs at an alarmingly fast rate, prompting Izzy to then hold them down before he inadvertently hurt someone* CHAHAHAHAHAHARA!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! CHAHAHHAAHARA, DOHOHON'T!!! HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! *SQUEAK* EEEEEEEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE HEEHEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!

Moments later…

Lucas: HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Chara: Heeheehee! Ok, ok, just one last thing before we give you a breather… *claimed Chara, holding up a single index finger next to Lucas's bellybutton*

Lucas: EEEEEEEEEEP!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! OH NOHOHOHOHO!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Chara: Heeheeheehee! Kitchie kitchie kitchie kitchie kooooooo! *teased Chara, swirling one of her index fingers directly inside Lucas's bellybutton for ten whole seconds*

Lucas: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! NOHOHOHO, NAHAHAHAHART THA… MEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOW!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! MEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOW!!! GAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…

Ten seconds! Ten seconds of swirling an index finger inside Lucas's bellybutton and Chara had managed to make Lucas yowl like that of a housecat. And he'll likely be doing even more yowling after his break is over, for there's one spot that's supposedly more sensitive than his belly…

Lucas: Huff… huff… huff… *Lucas huffed and puffed after Chara had stopped tickling him*

Lucas was gasping for air by the time Chara stopped tickling him. He’s quite the ticklish Neko boy if Frisk, Chara, Asriel, MK, and Izzy do say so themselves. And despite how much he was freaking out while he was being tickled, he had a great deal of fun being on the receiving end of those tickles. He loves receiving attention from girls. Especially cute ones like Frisk, Chara, and Izzy! As well as cute monster boys like Asriel and MK, who will both likely be ticking Lucas shortly after Izzy has another turn.

Frisk: Awww, Lucas! *cooed Frisk, scratching Lucas's ears to help him relax after being tickled, causing Lucas himself to purr in response X3*

Chara: Heeheehee! Awww! Kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty! *cooed Chara, adoring Lucas's purring* Speaking of “kitty,” your mom told us that you say that if tickling ever gets too extreme for you.

Lucas: Eeeeeeep! What?! N-no I don't. *claimed Lucas, embarrassed to find out something else that Catty had told Frisk and Chara (and Asriel and MK) behind his back*

Frisk: Heeheeheehee! It's ok, Lucas. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. *assured Frisk*

Chara: Heeheeheehee! Yeah, we're all friends here. You can trust us. And Izzy too!

Izzy: Heeheeheehee! It's true, Lucas! And I for one think it's cute that you have a safe word. My mom has one too. Carrot cupcakes! Actually, that's two words, so it's more a safe phrase in her case. Heeheeheehee!

Lucas: Oh, that's neat.

Izzy: Heeheehee! Right? I love making her say it every time I tickle her big feet. She has extremely ticklish feet! And she's a kicker so if you ever want to tickle her feet, either have someone hold her legs down for you or tie them down.

Lucas: Oh, that's good to know. T-thank you for t-telling me that.

Izzy: Heeheehee! Of course! And speaking of ticklish feet, are your feet ticklish, Lucas? *asked Izzy all cheekily, looking at Lucas with a cute little smile on her precious face*

Lucas: Eeeeeeeep! No! No, not at all! *exclaimed Lucas in response, curling his toes in fear inside his socks*

Izzy: Heeheehee! Are you sure? *asked Izzy in a singsongy voice, shortly before signaling over to Asriel and MK to hold Lucas's legs down against the floor*

Lucas: Eeeeeeep! *squealed Lucas once he felt his legs being held down* Y-yes, I'm sure! I'm sure!

Izzy: Hmm……… I don't believe you.

At that moment, Izzy began tickling Lucas's socked feet, scribbling her fingers gingerly up and down the soles of them and eliciting precious giggles while doing so.

Lucas: Pfffffffffffffff… Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!! Ok, ok, hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha, they're a little tihihihihicklish!!!! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!

Izzy: Heeheeheehee! Now how about these toesies? *teased Izzy, right as she began tickling Lucas's toes with his socks still on*

Lucas: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP! HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHHA! NOHOHO, NOT THEHEHEHEHEHERE! *pleaded Lucas through his more frantic laughter, trying to pull his feet away from Izzy only to be prevented from doing so by both Asriel and MK* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Izzy got more of a reaction when she tickled Lucas's toes. And for good reason. His toes are his most ticklish spots; ungodly ticklish according to both him and Catty. Just a slight touch to one or more of them is enough to get him in stitches. Even with socks on! And as Izzy tickled Lucas's toes, Lucas himself laughed so hard that tears ran down his face. Then after a while, Izzy removed both of Lucas’s socks and tickled his feet a second time, much to Lucas's dismay. His feet are far more ticklish without socks and after just a few seconds of fingers scribbling up and down his bare soles, he was yowling in addition to laughing and crying, indicating to everyone else in the room that his feet are indeed more ticklish than his belly.

Lucas: AHHHH! NO! NOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! IZZY NOHOHO!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! NOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!! MEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOW!!!! HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!! MEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOW!!!! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!!

Lucas was going crazy with every passing second he felt Izzy's fingers scribbling against his bare feet; laughing, squealing, squeaking, yowling, and everything in between. His feet are so ticklish. But the tickle torture he had endured couldn't have been too unbearable. Because the entire time Izzy tickled his feet alone, he never once said “kitty,” his safe word. And she tickled him with more than just her fingers too. In addition to her fingers, she also used a Q-Tip, paintbrush, feather, fork, and toothbrush.

Lucas: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! MEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOW!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! *SQUEAK* MEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOW!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! *SQUEAK* HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE…

After tickling Lucas's feet with her fingers and five different utensils, Izzy moved aside to let Asriel and MK take turns tickling Lucas. First, Asriel tickled Lucas on his own, quickly tickling him everywhere Frisk, Chara, and Izzy had tickled him; starting with his ears for 20 seconds, then his legs for 20 seconds, then his sides for 20 seconds, then his armpits for 20 seconds, then his belly for 20 seconds, and then his feet for 20 seconds. Two whole minutes of tickles from his furry fingers alone!

Lucas: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! *SQUEAK* MEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOW!!! HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!! *SQUEAK* MEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOW!!! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!

Asriel: Heeheeheehee! How do you like my fur, Lucas? *asked Asriel, wondering if his furry fingers were tickling Lucas more than human fingers*

Lucas: HHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I DOHOHON'T LIKE IT!!! *lied Lucas through his laughter* HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! STOP UHUHUHUSING IT!!! HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!

After Asriel finished tickling Lucas, it was then MK’s turn to tickle Lucas. And MK did exactly what Asriel did for two whole minutes. He tickled all of his sweet spots for two whole minutes. But unlike Asriel, he threw his tail into the mix.

Lucas: EEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!! HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAAHAHA!!! AH, NOHOHOHO, HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, NOT THE TAIL TOOHOOHOO!!! HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!! *SQUEAK* MEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOW!!! HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEHEE!!!

MK: Heeheeheehee! Yes, the tail too! Heeheeheehee! I love tickling with my tail! Can you tickle with your tail too, Lucas? *asked MK, wondering if Lucas can tickle people with his tail like he can*

Lucas: HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA!!! I DOHOHON'T KNOHOHOW!!! *Lucas answered, not actually wanting MK to know if he can or can't tickle people with his tail… not at this moment, anyway* HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Moments later…

Lucas: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Even after being tickled by both monster boys back-to-back, Lucas still didn't say his safe word, giving everyone the impression that he handles tickles to his various sweet spots better in short spurts as opposed to lengthy periods of time. And that observation appeared to be true because it wasn't until Asriel and MK tickled him together that he said his safe word; Asriel sitting next to his head tickling his ears and armpits with his fingers and toes respectively and MK kneeling over his legs and ticking his lower abdomen, thighs, and feet with his tail, toes, and fingers respectively. With so many of his sweet spots being targeted at once, Lucas had literally no choice but to say his safe word. But he didn't say it right away though. Not until after two full minutes of tickles to his sweet spots…

Two minutes later…

Lucas: HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! OHOHOH MY GOHOHOHOD!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAAHAHA!!!! KITTY!!!! HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! KITTY, KITTY, KIHIHIHITTY, KIHIHIHIHIHITTY!!!! EEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE!!!! MEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOOW!!!! HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Upon hearing Lucas say his safe word, Asriel and MK both moved away from him and thus stopped tickling him entirely; Asriel moving to the left of Lucas and MK moving to the right of Lucas. Then, without any warning whatsoever, Asriel and MK found themselves being pinned down against the floor on their backs with their arms above their heads by Frisk and Chara respectively! And not only that; Izzy kneeled over Lucas and pinned his arms above his head! And to keep all three boys held down against the floor, Frisk conjured several spikes (every single one of them a red color) and crisscrossed them around every single one of the boys’ limbs as well as Lucas and MK's tails! :O

Asriel: Oof! *Asriel struggled* Hey! Frisk, I thought we agreed not to use any magic! *he then shouted, annoyed that Frisk had used magic to hold him, Lucas, and MK down against the floor after telling him beforehand that she would not use any magic whatsoever*

MK: Oof! Hey, yeah, what gives, Frisk?! *shouted MK, also annoyed*

Frisk: Heeheeheehee! Calm down, boys. Let us girls have a little fun for the next ten minutes or so. You won't regret it. *claimed Frisk in a cheeky manner, giving each of the boys the impression that they will receive some type of reward if they endure tickles from her, Chara, and Izzy*

Izzy: (Heeheehee! You won't!) *mouthed Izzy, sitting behind Frisk and holding her feet up for all three boys to see and running her blue feather across her bare soles; silently informing all three boys that they will indeed receive a reward for enduring tickles from her, Frisk, and Chara*

Asriel: Heh. Well, when you put it that way, okay! *exclaimed Asriel excitedly, now that he knows what the girls are intending to do after tickling them*

MK: Hehe. Yeah, do your worst! *commanded MK, greatly spreading his toes*

Frisk: Heeheehee! Great! And what about you, Lucas? Do you have anything to say before we start?

Lucas: Just three words, Frisk… Bring… It… On! *commanded Lucas in a very confident manner, prompting both Asriel and MK to say the following,*

Asriel: Hehe. Yeah, you tell ‘em, Lucas!

MK: Hehe. Yeah, dude, yeah!

And with that, each of the three girls began tickling each of the three boys with their fingers alone. For nine whole minutes the girls tickled the boys. Though, not the same boy for nine whole minutes. No, every three minutes, the girls switched to a different boy. And how long the boys were tickled on either their upper bodies or their feet depended entirely on the girl that was tickling them. If it was Frisk, each boy received two minutes of tickles to their upper bodies and one minute of tickles to their feet; if it was Izzy, each boy received ninety seconds of tickles to their upper bodies and ninety seconds of tickles to their feet; and if it was Chara, each boy received one minute of tickles to their upper bodies and two minutes of tickles to their feet. But it was hard for each of the three boys to tell though because of how busy they were laughing their heads off. All they knew was that each of the girls’ fingers tickled like crazy and with no chances of freeing themselves from their predicament, the only thing they could do was lay on the floor and take everything that each of the girls were intending to dish out.

During the first three-minute interval…

Asriel, Lucas, and MK: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! *the three boys laughed preciously; Frisk tickling Asriel, Izzy tickling Lucas, and Chara tickling MK*

During the second three-minute interval…

Asriel, Lucas, and MK: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHHAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! *the three boys laughed once more; Chara tickling Asriel, Frisk tickling Lucas, and Izzy tickling MK*

During the third and final three-minute interval…

Asriel, Lucas, and MK: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE YAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! *the three boys laughed even more; Izzy tickling Asriel, Chara tickling Lucas, and Frisk tickling MK*

Sometime later…

Asriel, Lucas, and MK: Huff… huff… huff… huff… huff… *the boys huffed and puffed after nine whole minutes of tickle torture*

Nine minutes! At this point during the sleepover, Asriel, Lucas, and MK had endured nine whole minutes of tickles! And with ticklers like Frisk, Chara, and Izzy, that was no easy task! The three human girls themselves sure know how to get each of them laughing with their fingers alone, scribbling, drumming, and raking their fingers all over several of their sweet spots and verbally teasing them every so often while doing so; the dreaded “coochie coochie coo,” “tickle tickle tickle,” “kitchy kitchy koo,” you name it. But it was all worth it in the end though, because shortly after Frisk freed the three boys, they were all given an opportunity to get some sweet revenge on her, Chara, and Izzy! And to prevent themselves from moving around too much, all three girls stuffed themselves tightly into one sleeping bag with their heads sticking out at one end and their bare feet sticking out at the other; Frisk on the left, Izzy in the middle, and Chara on the right. And sure as hell all three girls wiggled their toes to tease the boys once they saw them stuffed in one sleeping bag together. XD

Frisk: Yoo-hoo. Boys. Oh, boys. *cooed Frisk in a singsongy voice, in order to get the boys' attention once she saw three of them standing up after taking some time to catch their breaths*

Izzy: Time for your reward. *cooed Izzy while Lucas was putting his socks back on*

Chara: And you better hurry up before we change our minds. *teased Chara*

Moments later…

Lucas: Oh G-god… *uttered Lucas, blushing red at the sight of three trapped pairs of ticklish human feet*

MK: Eeeeep! H-h-holy m-m-moly! *exclaimed MK, mesmerized by the sight of Frisk, Izzy, and Chara stuffed in a sleeping bag together with only their heads and feet sticking out*

Asriel: Oh, wow. Oh, w-w-wow! T-t-thank you so much, you guys! *exclaimed Asriel excitedly, knowing full well that the girls were intending to let him and the other boys get some sweet revenge on them*

Frisk: Heeheeheehee! Of course, Azzy. You, MK, and Lucas earned it.

Izzy: Heeheehee! They sure have! *Izzy agreed, teasing the boys with her feet more than Frisk and Chara were with their own feet*

Chara: Heeheehee! Wow, Izzy, you must really want your feet tickled, huh?

Izzy: Heeheehee! I do! More than anything!

Frisk: Heeheehee! Well, boys, you heard the little lady. Tickle us, all three of us.

Chara: Heeheehee! Yeah, and don't you dare hold back!

Lucas: Oh, we won't! *exclaimed Lucas, rushing over towards the girls and sitting next to their feet before Asriel and MK could even think to do the same*

With that said, each of the three boys tickled the girls' immensely ticklish bare feet, causing all three of them to laugh both heartily and hysterically inside the sleeping bag that they had stuffed themselves into. And with barely anywhere to go while stuffed so tightly in one sleeping bag, laughing was the only thing they could do. And with every passing second they felt fingers scribbling either gingerly or rapidly against their bare soles and/or twisting in between their toes, they did a great deal of laughing… and squealing… and screaming. For six whole minutes the boys tickled the girls' feet with their fingers alone. And for the sake of variety, the boys switched ticklees every two minutes.

During the first two-minute interval…

Frisk, Izzy, and Chara: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!! GYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!!!! *the three girls laughed; Asriel tickling Frisk, Lucas tickling Izzy, and MK tickling Chara*

During the second two-minute interval…

Frisk, Izzy, and Chara: HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! *the three girls laughed once more; MK tickling Frisk, Asriel tickling Izzy, and Lucas tickling Chara*

During the third and final two-minute interval…

Frisk, Izzy, and Chara: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE GYAHAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! *the three girls laughed even more; Lucas tickling Frisk, MK tickling Izzy, and Asriel tickling Chara*

After tickling Frisk, Izzy, and Chara together for six whole minutes, Asriel, Lucas, and MK stopped to give them a breather. The girls appreciated that, their bare feet being so ticklish and all. But then shortly after the three of them regained their breaths, the boys tickled them for at least six more minutes! But not together though. Instead, the boys took turns tickling the three girls, resulting in each boy having the three girls' feet all to themself for at least two minutes. And the first boy to tickle the three girls was MK. And he did so by first wiggling his clawed toes against each of the girls’ soles; first Frisk's right sole and Chara's left sole, then Frisk's left sole and Chara's right sole, and then both of Izzy's soles; until finishing it all out with a single feather duster he held with his tail, facing away from all three of them and swinging his tail as if it were a pendulum; the feather duster brushing against the girls' feet with every swing of MK's tail.

Frisk, Izzy, and Chara: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!! HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!!

As soon as MK finished tickling the girls, it was then Asriel's turn to do the same. But rather than using his feet and short fluffy tail, Asriel instead brushed all four of his limbs against each of the girls’ soles, tickling all three pairs of feet at once with vertical and horizontal motions and letting every strand of his soft silky fur on each limb do all the work; first with his left arm for 30 seconds, then his right arm for 30 seconds, then his left leg for 30 seconds, and then his right leg for 30 seconds.

Frisk, Izzy, and Chara: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!! GYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Then after Asriel’s turn, it was Lucas's turn to tickle the girls. And it was at that point that Lucas revealed to his friends that he is indeed capable of tickling with his fluffy cat tail. He used nothing but his tail to tickle all three girls for two whole minutes, first by swinging it like a pendulum against the girls' bare soles like how MK did with a single feather duster and then by brushing it against all three girls' feet at once like how Asriel did with each of his limbs.

Frisk, Izzy, and Chara: EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE GYAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!!!! BWAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

As soon as Lucas finished tickling Frisk, Izzy, and Chara, he and the other boys freed them from the sleeping bag. Yes, as tempting as it was to continue tickling Frisk, Izzy, and Chara while they were stuffed in a single sleeping bag together with only their heads and feet sticking out, the boys freed them from said sleeping bag. Frisk freed the three boys themselves from their magic spike restraints after tickling them, so it was only fair for them to free the three girls themselves from the sleeping bag. Then after freeing the girls, all six of the kids built a large blanket fort together and talked and told each other stories until they fell asleep on the floor. A great end to a fun night of laughter and various shenanigans if the kids do say so themselves. Though, especially Lucas! He was very grateful that he had made a new friend during the sleepover. He and Izzy had such a fun time getting to know each other that night and from that point forward, he would continue to hang out with her and learn even more things about her in the process, like what to do to overpower her in a tickle fight, for example. ;)

THE END.

#undertale tickle #undertale tickling #feet tickling #tickle story #tickle fic #asriel #monster kid #monsterkid #frisk #chara #upperbody tickling #sleepover #cute kids

[sortagaysortahigh]

“i’m not scared but if you are, you can hold my hand.” with argyle 😋

IZZY I LOVE THIS PROMPT SHUT UP SGGEGHE, i was gonna set this during season four but im simply pretending none of that hot mess exists, we live in my fanon universe where everyones alive and well, el never gets bullied, no one croaks, everyone is happy in california or indiana (minus brenner he can still choke) <3

Join the sleepover

The first time Jonathan invited Y/n over to their weekly movie night she was hesitant, being new to Lenora and only really getting to know a few people. However he'd seen her curse out one of the freshman girls at lunch for bullying his younger sister and immediately befriended her, and with his friendship came his best friend Argyle. However when he rushed over with Jonathan to pull El away from the scene-he was absolutely smitten at the sight of her.

She stood in front of Angela, clearly intimidating the younger girl as she shoved her back once after cursing her and her friends out, not to mention the fact that she'd smacked the books out of one of the boy's hands-then she picked one up and threw it at another one of the boys.

Then once the four bullies were gone, Y/n turned to see the three boys and the girl that she stepped in to help. Jonathan immediately thanking her and introducing himself, followed by El introducing herself as Jane-then adding in that she could call her El, then Will spoke, and finally she stared at Argyle, her dark brows raised as she waited for him to speak. The entire time he just stared with his lips parted-Jonathan having to introduce himself.

El was the one who brought up movie night, and Jonathan agreed-inviting her over if she was up to it-and she agreed. Not before stating that if anyone tried anything she'd murder them.

After that she found herself hanging out with the older boys more often, Argyle still kept his conversations with her short-instead he opted to admire her-a lovesick smile on his face as he'd listen to her rant and rave about things. Never really knowing when to make a move.

Their movie nights became a regular occurrence, tonight no different-except they were watching the exorcist. Which Y/n specifically told El and Will they didn't have to sit through if they didn't want to-which in turn resulted in the two fifteen year olds leaving twenty minutes into the movie.

Then of course Jonathan was a little too high to function, leading him to falling asleep in his seat, so it was just Y/n and Argyle. She was perfectly fine watching the movie, if anything she'd grimmace every now and then-but he was somewhat jumpy-to the point that she had to shifter herself, draping a leg over his while leaning into him and whispering "I'm not scared but if you are, you can hold my hand".

His eyes shot open, heart practically pounding against his chest and he couldn't tell if it was because of the girl next to him. Then to make things worse she trailed a finger along his shoulder-then shifted his hair-sliding it behind his shoulder as she leaned her head against it, placing her open hand on top of her thigh that was covering his.

"this shit's freaking me out dude" she giggled at his whisper, then she looked up at him from his shoulder, his eyes already on her "you're not even watching!" he shook his head "have you seen this? i don't think anyone should be watching" she laughed this time, then he laced his fingers through hers-firmly grasping her hand.

"You're really pretty Y/n" she smiled, raising a brow "you're not that bad yourself-now watch the movie scardy cat" he shook his head "or we could go indulge in some exotic flower" she laughed, glancing over at Jonathan who was still asleep "can I roll it?" he nodded "you can do anything you want, I'll follow you to the ends of the earth" she moved her leg, standing up-still holding his hand.

"Let's go"

#askies #zoot's 4.5k blurb weekend #argyle x reader #izz bizz <3

[gothdaddyissues]

The Devil Came to a Small Town

In a bougie small town, a local witch strikes up a business relationship with the newly-arrived Satanic Church, setting in motion a series of events that lead to two misfits falling in love.

Ao3 Link HERE

September 22nd

“Hey, Google…” she mumbled, still groggy from sleep.

Beep. 

“Shuffle my ‘Serotonin Boost’ playlist.”

“Alright, I’ll shuffle your Spotify playlist called ‘Serotonin Boost.'”

The keyboard intro to “Lay All Your Love On Me” by ABBA began playing as Isabelle sat up in bed and pushed the covers off her legs. She swung them over, feet on the floor, and was immediately greeted by a loving headbutt in the shin from her fluffy black and white cat.

“Good morning, Poe,” she yawned, standing and shuffling over to the bathroom. The cat meowed happily as he followed along behind her. Her back was stiff and her knees were achy - issues that seemed to have cropped up the moment she turned 30, and that were now daily nuisances almost a decade later.

She turned on the shower, knowing it would take a few moments for the water to heat up in this aging, Edwardian building. She brushed her long, dark brown hair, and then her teeth, before stripping down and stepping over the high edge of the clawfoot tub into the steaming stream of water.

A quick wash later, her hair wrapped in a towel and fully-charged phone in hand, she made her way to the kitchen to feed the cat and make a cup of tea.

It was the same routine every day. She never thought much about it, just went through the motions. Things didn’t change much in this tiny, boutique village. And there was nothing wrong with that. She gave up the high-stress, big-city lifestyle to move back here, her hometown, a few years back without much regret.

But her well-choreographed daily groove could not mask the fact that she was lonely. This place she had grown up in did not sit idle waiting for her to come back. Most of the friends she had known moved away or moved on with their lives. What little family she had was gone. Her city friends became more and more distant as time passed. She still had her life-long best friend and co-worker Aristotle, and her clients and customers, sure. But as she got older, she found it harder to connect with new people any further than as casual acquaintances.

As her tea steeped, Izzy scrolled through her phone. She had a calendar reminder for a delivery coming to the shop later today. A couple of silly messages from Ari. No major news headlines. No major worries.

With her mug of tea ready, she moved outside onto her apartment’s tiny balcony. It was bright with morning sunshine and the temperature was still warm considering it was the first day of autumn. She sat in sunny bliss, the main street below coming to life as the town’s residents also began their days. She could hear Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now” playing on her little Google speaker. She sipped her tea and enjoyed the last few peaceful moments before she had to get ready for her work day.

The cat padded out onto the balcony, licking his lips after a satisfactory breakfast. He plopped himself down in the bright sunshine, content.

“What do you think, Poe?” Izzy asked him. Will something interesting happen today?”

Poe blinked his big green eyes at her before sitting up and licking his butt.

Izzy sighed, bemused. “Guess we’ll see, huh?”

******

By 10:30, she was ready to go. She had done her hair and makeup before a quick ritual at her altar to celebrate the Autumnal Equinox. Given the mild temperature, dark grey plaid capris and a black sleeveless top would be the closest she would get to a fall outfit. Izzy gave her cat a kiss goodbye and headed out.

She loved the quaint little arrangement she had. When she sold her fancy condo in the city to move back home, she had more than enough funds to buy this solid brick multi-use building right on the town’s main street. The main floor was her shop, while the separate upstairs apartment was her living space. It was a two-for-one deal that meant she could step out her door, head down the wrought-iron staircase attached to the back of the building, and be at work.

And her work, her shop, was her pride and joy. Shadow & Light Metaphysical Boutique. A huge selection of witchcraft and spiritual items: tarot cards, crystals, incense and candles, herbs and oils, divination tools, and jewelry. Decorated with large, dark wood and glass antique display cases, and crystal chandeliers. Apothecary cabinets and glass jars housing magical ingredients. A back storage room and office, and a small room off to the side of the shop floor, a private spot for her to perform Tarot and Oracle card readings for her many clients. 

Isabelle’s favorite part of the store was the fireplace in the back corner, with its ornate mantel and embossed tin tiles. The actual fireplace was no longer useable, so instead, she filled it with large pillar candles, and decorated it with tributes to her gothic and witchy inspirations. A large poster of Stevie Nicks anchored the space, accompanied by framed photos of Vincent Price, Bela Lugosi, and Gomez and Morticia Addams, plus a ceramic bust of Edgar Allan Poe. In front of the fireplace sat a Victorian settee and a large upholstered ottoman, making a perfect nook for the library of arcane and rare books she had available for visitors to read and study from. 

It was an eclectic, whimsical, and inviting space - exactly the kind of place she wished had existed back when she was beginning her journey into the occult. She loved helping people find their spiritual path. She was proud of the like-minded community she was building. And it gave her a sense of satisfaction and happiness that she had never experienced during her many years high up in the corporate domain. This was the world she belonged in.

She unlocked the heavy steel door at the back of her shop and let herself in, quickly turning to the alarm system keypad and entering the code to deactivate it. There were still 20 minutes until opening. She began the usual routine: lights on, cash drawer moved from the safe to the register, tidying up the counter, checking to see if anything needed restocking. 

A few minutes later she heard the sound of the back door opening, and Ari’s voice calling out in greeting. “Good morning, Izzy! Happy first day of Fall!” He appeared from the back room carrying two takeout cups of coffee in his hands, one for each of them, a big smile on his handsome face. In typical elder goth fashion, he was dressed entirely in black - a dress shirt, waistcoat, tight jeans, chain belt, and Doc Martins. His grey-streaked black hair was a slicked-back pompadour, his beard and mustache impeccably groomed. Always so effortlessly cool, for as long as she had known him… over 30 years at this point.

“Good morning, Ari,” she smiled, gladly taking the coffee cup from his hand as he offered it to her. “How was your night?”

He joined her behind the counter, casually leaning over it while he sipped his latte. “It was alright. Pretty quiet. Did some work on that painting commission. Chatted with that guy from Tinder again…”

“And? You going to meet up with him?”

Ari shrugged. “Meh, he’s not a great conversationalist. I had to do all the talking, not a single question from him. I think he’s just looking for a hookup but doesn’t want to say that. I hate that shit. ”

“‘That shit’ is why I’ve given up on dating… and men in general.”

“And you know I don’t blame you one bit,” he laughed, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. “You might have the right idea.” He looked up at the clock and saw it was almost 11am, opening time. He turned to the CD player behind the counter. “Now, what are we listening to today? Something… 80s?”

“Sounds good to me.” Izzy took her keys and headed for the front door, unlocking it and the wrought iron storefront gates that protected the shop entrance. The large display windows had been broken one too many times for her liking over the past couple of years. She finally gave in and had the extra security installed after the last act of vandalism had been especially bad. Some residents of this small town still held tightly to their small way of thinking. They saw the word ‘metaphysical’ on the sign and assumed ‘evil witchcraft.’ The fact that Izzy was a practicing witch and Tarot reader didn’t help matters. But she had her loyal and steadily increasing clientele, many of who made the journey from the city for the extensive selection she offered and her particular brand of expertise. A handful of intolerant folks that made things difficult were not going to deter her.

When she came back inside, Depeche Mode was playing and Ari was busy dusting off the bookshelves. Izzy was enjoying the first sips of her macchiato when she saw a large, black SUV pull up in front of the shop. The first customer of the day.

The woman who entered the store was older and attractive but primly dressed in a dark charcoal suit. Her grey-blonde hair was pulled up into a severe bun, giving her a very stern, almost puritan look. Izzy did not recognize her, but her appearance immediately put her on guard. Something about her screamed ‘church lady’ and those were usually the types that weren’t looking for goods and services, but to cause trouble or upset.

Izzy approached her tentatively. “Hello, welcome to Shadow & Light! How can I help you today?”

“Ah yes, hello,” the woman began, looking Izzy up and down impassively. “I’m wondering if you can help me procure some hard-to-find books. I’ve been told that this is the place to ask for such things… unless I want to drive all the way to the city.”

“Well, I can certainly try. I’ve got some good connections.” Izzy made her way back to the cash desk and computer, motioning for the woman to follow her. “What books were you looking for?”

The woman reached into her pocket and produced a piece of paper that had the titles of three books written on it. The cursive script was flawless and elegant:

Magick in Theory and Practice - Aleister Crowley

Commentaries on the Holy Books and Other Papers - Aleister Crowley

The Golden Star: A Mystic Crescendo in Twelve Visions - Jean Michaud

“The earliest editions available,” she said, “Our Cardinal would like to add these books to our library for our students.”

Izzy was taken aback. She knew these books wouldn’t be cheap… and that they weren’t exactly books that a Cardinal would be asking for. So she was right in assuming that this woman was involved with a church somehow. A church that wanted expensive occult books?

“Okay, let me have a look here.” Izzy took to her computer while Ari busied himself with his dusting closer and closer to the cash desk. She knew he was listening in. He must have been as confused and curious as she was.

Izzy had excellent contacts overseas when it came to finding rare books and spiritual items, and had access to their databases at her disposal. A bit of typing and clicking brought up sources for all three books, early editions as requested, for a grand total of over $3500 before her finder’s fee.

"Well," Izzy began, "it seems all these books are available from a seller I deal with from the UK. In very good to excellent condition." She wanted to soften the blow a bit: "But the price is pretty steep."

“Price is no object,” the woman said. “Would you like me to pay upfront?”

“A deposit would be fine for now. Just in case they aren’t to your liking when they arrive. That’s how we usually handle it. ”

The woman again reached into her pocket and pulled out a small leather card holder. She handed over one of those super-exclusive, high-limit, stainless steel Visa cards. Price was no object, indeed.

Izzy placed the order and processed a $1000 payment. “Their shipments usually get here in 5 to 10 business days. Can I get your contact information so I can let you know when the books come in?”

“Of course!” The woman slid a business card onto the counter that was embossed with an elaborate upside-down cross and her name and title:

Sister Imperator

Head of Clergy

Church of Emeritus

[email protected]

“Church of Emeritus?” Izzy read aloud. 

“Yes,” Sister Imperator said, “We’ve recently moved from our location in the city to the old Windermere Abbey buildings. Our congregation has been growing too rapidly for us to keep up and we desperately needed more space to accommodate everyone. And now we are able to take on aspirants and liturgical students!” Her demeanor had changed from reserved to outgoing, filled with excitement over the growth of her organization.

It was infectious, and Izzy smiled along with her. “Windermere Abbey? Such a beautiful place! So much history there. I’m so glad to know it’s being occupied again. It’s been vacant too long.”

“It is beautiful,” Imperator agreed, “But wasn’t in the best of shape when we took possession. We’ve had people there renovating and restoring it for the better part of this year. We only just moved our clergy in a few weeks ago.”

Izzy noticed the Sister was conspicuously avoiding exactly what sort of worship occurred at this ‘church.’ She chose to avoid it as well for the time being.

“Well, welcome to town! If you need anything else, please do let me know, I’d be happy to help however I can.”

“Thank you, you are very kind. I know the Cardinal has a long list of titles he’s interested in obtaining. I’m sure we’ll be back for more soon.” Sister Imperator took one of Izzy’s business cards from the small stack in front of the register, reading it over. “I’m so happy to make your acquaintance, Miss Bennett.”

“Yours as well, Sister. I will email you when the books have arrived. And I look forward to working with you.”

Izzy’s businesswoman instinct made her come around the counter to shake the Sister’s hand. She didn’t normally bother with such formalities for the average client, but someone willing to drop almost $4000 on her first visit - with the potential for much more - was definitely someone she wanted to build a good relationship with. 

But when the two women’s hands met, Izzy was hit with the strangest feeling. A buzzing, tingling sensation ran from her hand and up her arm, prickling into her neck, up the back of her head, and finally settling behind her eyes. She could see colors radiating from Imperator: red, purple, and a hint of beige. And beyond that, a feeling of familiarity, like somehow she already knew this woman… 

And as quickly as the sensation had come, whoosh, it was gone.

Sister Imperator pulled her hand away first, a quizzical look on her face. Almost as if she had felt something as well. “I knew coming here was the right decision,” she murmured cryptically. “The rest of the clergy thought I was crazy to pack us up and move us away from the city. But I’m sure that it was truly meant to be. I see good things happening for us with your help.”

So she had felt it. Izzy was certain of that now. And she didn't seem too bothered by it. What it meant, she didn’t know.

“Many thanks to you, my dear,” Imperator said as she walked to the exit, “Have a wonderful day!”

The door chimed as it shut behind her. Izzy was shaken, staring off after Imperator as she got into her vehicle and drove away. She was no stranger to picking up on auras and reading people intuitively. But this was something more, at an intensity she hadn’t experienced before. There was some kind of connection there. She turned to Ari, unsure if she should say something about it to him, or even how she should begin to unpack this.

He was behind the counter, typing into the computer with one hand while holding Imperator’s business card in the other. “Church of Emeritus dot com, huh? Upside-down crosses? Aleister Crowley books? Hmmm…. Can we guess what kind of church this is?” he wondered aloud, his eyebrow raised in jovial suspicion.

She joined him to see the church’s website already pulled up on the screen. The upside-down cross and a drawing of Baphomet featured prominently on the black background, with a small paragraph of text between the images. “Welcome to the Church of Emeritus,” it read. “Founded in 1969, we are a spiritual organization dedicated to self-advocacy and liberation from harmful and proselytizing traditional religious beliefs. In honor of the Dark One, we encourage: freedom of expression in all forms, compassion and empathy for all, and rejection of repressive authority. Please join us for our weekly public Ritual - Sundays at 7:00pm - all are welcome!”

He scrolled down, but the only other information on the page was the address of Windermere Abbey and a map leading to its location.

“That’s it?” Ari said, disappointed. “Their online presence leaves a lot to be desired.” He couldn’t help but laugh. “So… we have Satan worshippers in town now. That wasn’t on my BINGO card for this year. And I guess we’re gonna be friends with them?”

“I’d rather be their friends than their enemies. We don’t need any more of those around here,” Izzy replied.

“True. Maybe they’ll take the heat off of us for a while.”

Izzy took Imperator’s business card and stapled it and the deposit receipt to the printout of the book order. She carried it back into her office, placing it in the desk file for incoming shipments. For a moment, she sat at her desk, trying to shake off the unease the whole encounter had given her. She still felt a slight buzzing in her head, Imperator’s words circling around and around… “I’m sure that it was truly meant to be. I see good things happening for us with your help.”

******

The rest of Isabelle’s workday passed without incident. Five o’clock came and she and Ari went through their closing routine. They parted ways outside the back door after setting the alarm and locking up securely.

“See you tomorrow, Izz,” he said. “And get some rest, eh? You look beat.”

She hadn’t mentioned how her experience with Sister Imperator had left her, not wanting to alarm him. She had hoped it would just fade away over the course of the day. It hadn’t. She remained unsettled.

“I guess I’m just not feeling like myself today,” seemed like a safe enough reply. If she was still feeling weird tomorrow, she might say something. But until then, she was hopeful she could sleep it off. “Are you streaming tonight?”

“Yeah, I’ll be live at seven. Maybe see you in the chat.”

“If I don’t fall asleep early, I’ll be there. Have a good one!”

She climbed the stairs to her apartment and was greeted by the cat the moment she opened the door. Izzy scooped him up into her arms, cuddling him close to her, burying her face in his fluff while he purred happily. He nuzzled her face and licked her cheek, almost as if he wanted to ease her discomfort.

“What a day, Poe Boy,” she whispered to him, “Mama needs her comfies and a glass of wine.”

What followed was the reverse of her morning routine. Pyjamas on, makeup off, hair pulled up in a messy bun. She gave the cat his dinner then fixed herself a salad with some leftover chicken, and a glass of white wine. She couldn’t remember when she had last felt so tired. 

Izzy managed to eat, and clean up afterward. She grabbed her iPad and plopped down on her couch, scrolling through her socials a bit until seven o’clock, when she switched over to Ari’s YouTube channel, Art with Aristotle. His stream was just getting underway, so she said her ‘hello’ in chat, and settled in to watch.

He didn’t appear on camera but instead had it angled at the blank canvas he would soon be working on. He began his narration: “Hey guys, welcome back! Tonight I’m going to try something a little different, I’m going to be working on a re-creation of an old portrait painting. You know, like something you’d see in an art gallery? Maybe a bit 18th century-ish? I’ve got a sketch here in my notebook as my inspiration, so let’s get started. And don’t forget, if you like my content, I stream twice a week, and upload asmr paint-mixing videos daily here and on Instagram, so don’t forget to like and subscribe! I also offer private art lessons over Zoom and…”

Izzy couldn’t help it. The comforting and familiar sound of Ari’s voice was lulling her to sleep before the video even really began. Within moments, she had drifted off right there on the couch.

******

The soaring wooden doors of the Abbey were ajar. She slipped inside. It was dark, cold, and uninviting.

The building was long abandoned, with garbage, dirt, and dried leaves gathered along the edges of the main hallway and graffiti tags on the walls. A draught blew from behind her, swirling the leaves around her feet as she made her way through the entrance hall, the sound of her footsteps on the marble tiles echoing around her. There was fluttering from above, birds or bats that had found their way inside from the gaping hole in the roof overhead.

She ventured further in and noticed light coming from a room ahead of her and to the left. Slowly she approached the room and peeked into the open door.

Ari was there, hard at work on a paint canvas that was several feet taller than he was. It was a portrait. On it was painted a man dressed in a black uniform: frills at his collar and cuffs, leather gloves, a waistcoat embroidered with gold symbols, and a long military-style coat with gold epaulettes. Ari stood on a stepstool, putting the finishing touches on the portrait’s face. A handsome face, but not a normal one. It was painted black and white like a skull. The man’s greying hair was swept up and back. The only thing missing were the eyes.

“Hey Izzy,” Ari said without turning to look at her, “Come in, come in. I want you to see this.”

“Who is he?” she asked as she came up behind him.

“Someone important.”

“Important to who?”

“You, of course,” he chuckled. “Now, to paint a pair of eyes.”

Izzy watched as he worked, as he dipped his brush into the paints on his palette and applied them to the canvas. It seemed to only take seconds and he was done. The eye sockets were deep black circles, the eyes themselves mismatched - one eye green, one eye white.

She felt like they were staring directly at her.

Ari stepped off the stool and placed the palette down on it. “All done!” he said. He took her hand and led her over to a dusty Victorian settee across from the canvas. “Let’s watch as it dries.”

They sat together. The room became darker and darker. Only the canvas remained illuminated. Izzy could not tear her eyes away from the painting. The more she stared at it, the more entranced she became. 

She soon became aware that Ari was gone. It was just her and the hypnotic portrait. She could hear a voice whispering: “Come to me. Pleasure me. Filling me. Obsessively. Aggressively. Respectifully. Pleasure me. Pleasure me…” It was him. The man in the painting. He was speaking to her… calling her to him.

She tried to get up from the settee, but she could not move. Her legs felt trapped. There was a heaviness on her chest like she was being restrained. But the man was calling her. She could feel his need for her. Burning. Yearning. Yet she was frozen in place. She wanted to cry out to him, to tell him that she heard him, that she knew…

With a gasp, Izzy woke from her dream. Poe was sprawled out across her legs asleep, preventing her from moving. Her iPad rested on her chest, the screen black, Ari’s video stream long over. Her apartment - and the sky outside - were dark.

“Fuck…” she whispered.

She fumbled around with her iPad, finally activating the screen after feeling along its edge for the Home button. She squinted at the harsh light. The time was 11:49. She had been asleep for over 4 hours.

Izzy sat up, the movement annoying Poe enough that he finally relinquished his spot on her lap and jumped off. She felt utterly discombobulated. The dream she had was so bizarre and so vivid, yet seemed so prescient. Not the first time she had experienced this sort of thing, but one of the strangest...

She activated the Voice Memo app on her iPad and dictated as much detail as she could remember about the dream into it. 

Exhausted, she stumbled into the bedroom and slid into her bed, pulling the covers up to her neck. She fell asleep again almost immediately, deep and dreamless.

#ghost #the band ghost #ghost fan fic