i spent all day doing chores and homework and i finally get to play and you do this to me

Make It Work (Pt.1) // Wonwoo

“Good relationships don’t just happen. They take time, patience, and two people who truly want to be together.” -Unknown. 

Genre: fluff…? neighbor! & best friend!wonwoo
Word count:  947
A/N: This is actually just the first part of the first chapter. I got too excited with the fake texts so I divided the first chapter into two. Sorry about that. Two will be up real quick(?). Also, the Woozi oneshot was actually based on this one. Kind of.
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 /


“Honey, you really need to get out and make friends.”

“Mom, I do have friends.”

“They’re Wonwoo’s friends. And Wonwoo was already a given cause he’s a family friend and a neighbor.” Your mom turned to Wonwoo who was quietly eating across you and smiled. “No offense, sweetie.”

Wonwoo chuckled shaking his head. “None taken, Mrs. Kang.”

Your mom sighed, setting down her spoon. “Summer vacation’s over. You’re entering a new school tomorrow and Wonwoo won’t be with you this time.” Your mom reached out and placed her hand on yours. “Sweetheart, I just want you to have a good time with friends and enjoy your school life while you still can. When you start university or working, keeping relationships will be hard.”

You smiled and looked at your mom. Sometimes, she could be such a worrywart like she’s doing now. “I’ll be fine, mom. Wonwoo and his friends are cool.” You turned to look at Wonwoo and back to her. “Really. I could take care of myself and my social life.”

Keep reading

My Boys: Better Days - Chapter 6

Hey Guys! 

Thank you all so much for the kind reviews, likes, reblogs, etc. You are all so supportive, it amazes me!

A special thanks to my awesome beta @soccerplusgirl, always so helpful!

In case you missed, here is CHAPTER 5


My Boys: Better Days - Chapter 6

After two days and nights of being at home, Owen was feeling much better. On Saturday morning, he woke up after a night with no fever and for the first time, his throat wasn’t bothering him. He was also very hungry, something he hadn’t been feeling for a good few days.

Walking up to the kitchen, he decided he would spare Amelia having to prepare breakfast. She was still avoiding him, and not speaking to him unless absolutely necessary. Even when he had surprised her with a new phone, she hadn’t said a word. Owen understood, but he hated the situation. He really had thought that after a couple of days Amelia would accept his apology, but she really didn’t seem to want to come around anytime soon.

He would go back to work on Monday, so he planned to spend the entire weekend with his sons, to catch up on the time away from them. He also had so many questions to ask Amelia… He needed to know how Lucas had been doing in school after he’d started getting professional help for his dyslexia. He wanted to know what sort of things the twins had learned to do while he was gone. He also meant to ask about Thomas and find out what kind of new words he had been learning to read and write.

And he wanted to ask about the baby. Had Amelia been to an OB consult yet? How had she found out about the pregnancy? How had it happened? Owen knew she had an IUD and it had worked for them as birth control for the past two years. He had been so happy about the new baby, but devastated he couldn’t share that happiness with his wife because she simply wasn’t talking to him.

As he thought about it, Amelia came down the stairs, genuinely surprised to see him there. It was very early in the morning and all the boys were still asleep. Without the kids, it just felt pathetic when they were both in the same room without talking. Owen decided it was a good opportunity to try and break the ice.

Keep reading

How I Became The Help: My Au Pair Story

Brace yourselves. This is the story of how I made a slow descent into madness. 

I met the Maline* family the third day I arrived in France. I had already skyped the mother twice the week prior and had fallen in love with her vivacious spirit. Marie*, we will call her. She was warm and sunny. She had long auburn curls and an infectious smile. I could just tell she was the most popular mom in the neighborhood. She already had two babysitters, but she was looking for a live-in english tutor. She assured me that my  *sole* responsibility was to help them with their english homework and babysit them every now again. Weekends were completely mine and I received weekly pay on top of free housing, a phone, and money for transportation. Who would turn down a deal like that? 

The Warm Welcome

Three months ago, Marie picked up my mother and me from our hotel promptly at noon. Her energy was through the roof. She was excited to meet us and my energy quickly matched hers. Their home was something of Martha Stewart perfection. Every room was immaculate, carefully constructed to allude the perfect balance between elegance and modesty. 

Hugging the entire back of the house were 5 shuttered French doors, which on this first visit were completely open to allow in the sun’s natural light. In the backyard were two little boys, ages 6 and 9, bonding over soccer with their father. In the living room was the eldest daughter, age 12, intensely focused, practicing the drums for an upcoming recital. 

What I loved most about my surroundings were the decorative artifacts in every corner of the house. Congolese masks in the office, Russian dolls in the den, Japanese art above the oven. They were trying to make a statement, for sure. “Not only are we well traveled, but we fully embrace other cultures within our home!” Honestly I dug it.  It was a nice touch to an otherwise vanilla home. 

After having a 5 course meal complete with red wine AND Champagne, Marie asked me when I was planning to move home. HOME. Whether this was a result of broken english or not, I took this as a sign that she already saw me as one of the family. I looked over to my mother & had an Orphan Annie moment. 

I moved in a couple days later, believing fully that this was the best gift I could have received in my move.

I was wrong. 

Keep reading

pandafleur  asked:

Okay, hear me out. Familial Steter Season 1 AU where everything is the same except Stiles is eleven, Claudia has only been dead two years, the Sheriff is a fresh wreck, Scott is the beleaguered babysitter, and Peter is helplessly parental and appalled at everyone else's lack of childminding skills. This idea is haunting so I figured I'd share it. :)

I’ve actually always wanted to get around to writing something more parental for Stiles and Peter, either with Stiles as Peter’s actual kid (instead of Malia, or with Malia, etc.) or in a more ‘adopted’ direction. Just never got around to it.

In this scenario I suppose the Sheriff’s either drowning himself in a bottle or in work, and Stiles is already doing most of the house chores. The vacuuming and laundry’s easy enough to figure out, and his mom had a recipe book he follows, a little footstool helps him reach for the higher cabinets, etc., except he can’t cook whenever his babysitter’s over because Scott thinks he’s too young. Please. Stiles has been cooking since he was eight and his mom was moved to the hospital. Heck, why does he even need a babysitter? The entire first year after his mom died, his dad never noticed he spent all his time at home alone, until Ms. Melissa mentioned it. But he doesn’t want to upset his dad if Scott goes and tattles on him so he obeys just enough of his babysitter’s stupid rules to satisfy Scott, right up until Scott is gone and Stiles can run the household again.

Keep reading

Secret Santa: Check Yes or No: Part one

Merry Christmas @takemeawaytocamelot !!!
Are you surprised, or did you have an idea it was me all along? I hope you enjoy this, it is a three-part story, you get part one tonight, part two on Christmas Eve/Christmas day and part three on NYE.  I had a bit of trouble getting an idea to stick for what I actually wanted to write out for you, but finally after hearing a sweet country, song inspiration hit! Can’t wait to hear what you think and if you have questions I’ll happily answer, cause I am in love with this story. Thank you so very much to @moghraidhjamie for setting up this lovely secret Santa exchange, I am honored to be part of it and eternally grateful to you for getting me writing again.


Jamie sighed in ever increasing frustration as he tried to rub off some of the smudged grey covering the left side of his hand…he hated pencils and hated more being told that if he would just hold his hand correctly when he wrote it wouldn’t happen. Above and beyond the annoyance of being told the way he naturally did things was wrong, the grey smudge was a visible sign to those around him that he was different, and oh how he hated that. Thankfully, the other boys in his class didn’t tease him much anymore, not after the last time, when he had to be pulled off another boy the school yard. Girls, however, were different; he couldn’t fight them when they made fun of him. He had been crushed last month when Lizzy MacCowan said rather loudly in front of the whole class that he was dirty and strange because the paper he passed back to her had dirtied when he rested his hand on it before passing it on.

Sighing audibly, he tried not to think on it and instead focus on the notes he was supposed to take from the blackboard. He was about halfway through when the classroom door opened. Mrs. Fitz cleared her throat and addressed the class once everyone had looked up.

“Everyone, we have a new student! This is Claire Beauchamp; she’s just moved here with her uncle. Say hello class.”

His brain went blank, a simple “hello” was beyond him. Looking at her was like touching an open electrical outlet. He had never seen a lass that looked like her before; she was tall, had curly brown hair and the deepest blush he’d ever seen covering her face. Waving slightly at the class, she looked as if she’d be more than pleased should the floor open up and swallow her.

“Why don’t you tell us about yourself Claire?” Mrs. Fitz cheerfully prompted

Claire went to speak just as Jamie in his stunned stupor leaned a bit too much into books, pushing them off the desk. The room’s silence was shattered with the booming thud; causing the whole class to jump and bust into fits of laughter. With the expectation of further introductions lost, Mrs. Fitz showed Claire to her seat.

Leaning down to clean up his books and papers, Jamie mentally cursed himself in both English and Gaelic for causing such a scene, sure that he had now showed the fascinating new girl just how clumsy he was, and knowing that he’d lost any chance of her seeing him any differently than the other girls did. Finally, getting his things together and getting his blush under better control, he placed the last book back on his desk and quickly scanned the room. She had vanished, no longer at the front of the room, he looked through the rows of desks. He hadn’t thought to check the desk to his left, it had been empty since last year when…

His thoughts were interrupted when a hand tapped him on the shoulder, looking over, he was met with a sweet shy smile and an outstretched pencil.

“Hi, I’m Claire, you seemed to have missed this.” she said in a soft English accent.

“uh, I, I’m, uh Jamie.”  He said, accepting the pencil.

She looked as if she wanted to say more, but as she opened her mouth Mrs. Fitz resumed her lesson.

——-

Jamie took longer than normal to walk home, his mind playing over and over the events of the day. He knew he’d be asked what had kept him, and knew he’d have no answer that would excuse him neglecting his evening chores and the delay of starting his homework. But, what he did know is that should anyone ask of his day, he’d be able to tell them everything about the new girl in his class. He knew he wouldn’t be able to supply any other information about his day except for how her curls bounced up and down when she walked, how the deep purple of her dress shown so brightly against her skin, how the blue bow in her hair was slightly uneven and beginning to unknot; how when she moved past him all he could smell was the strawberries.  He had never had felt this before, never with any of the other lassies in his school. He had been mostly indifferent to them and they mostly spent their time avoiding or teasing him. She was different though, hadn’t known him his whole life, didn’t seem bothered by the things others found strange.

All he wanted was to know more, to talk with her and be around her. Unfortunately, though, he had missed the opportunity earlier when Mrs. Fitz asked if anyone would be willing to show Miss. Beauchamp around after. Rupert and Angus were assigned to escort her around, because they were the most social. He knew they would do a fine job, and they were two of his closest friends, but he couldn’t help but be more than a little annoyed that he would be missing the moments they would get. They would get to hear her laugh, they would get to know little things about her, they would get to spend time with her. He was suddenly and inexplicably jealous. He wanted that, and had no notion as to why or what to do about it.

 ——-

Dinner was unusually quiet and Brian had just about enough of it. Asking his children to clear the table, he told Jamie to join him in the study once he had finished. It had been a rough few years for their little family, and he was still navigating the waters of single parenthood. It didn’t take much to read his young son, contrary to what Jamie himself might think, but one look at the lad and his faraway expression, Brian knew what was going on. A while later Jamie knocked on the study door and slowly pushed it open at Brian’s bidding him to come in. He stood awkwardly in the doorway shifting from foot to foot for close to five minutes. Brian smiled a bit watching his son, but did not speak, he knew with what he assumed to be eating at his son, the conversation would have to start from Jamie.  

“Da?”

“Aye?”

“Do ye miss mam?”

The question was asked so quietly that Brian had almost missed it. He was sure that his face showed the confusion and concern he felt with the question. He was suddenly worried that the lad thought somehow that he didn’t, that Jamie mistook his ability to seem okay for his children with not having his heart break again and again each morning when he woke to a half empty bed, where once his heart lay. Trying to calm himself, he took a deep breath, schooled his features in the hope of not showing the depth of his pain and looked his son directly in the eyes. What he saw then almost made him laugh; Jamie’s question was nothing more than just a question. It was a question to break the ice, one of many he would more than likely be asking. Letting the tension leave his shoulders, he smiled as best he could when talking of Ellen and said:

“Aye I do, every second of every day. I love her vera much, son.”

Jamie nodded at that, the tension in his own small shoulders seeming to leave immediately, he continued:

“How did you know?”
“Know what?”

“That mam was the girl you loved the most and when?”

“Ah!” He smiled then, concern washing away only to be replaced with sudden understanding. “The very moment I laid eyes on her. We were about your age, ye ken. We knew each other most of our lives, aye? Well, the moment I saw her in the school yard, I was done for. That was it, my heart was hers, and always will be.”

Jamie didn’t say anything, just stood there for a long while, a small smile pulling at his lips.

Pushing a bit, Brian asked “So, what’s her name, son?”        

A visible start shot through Jamie but the smile only widened, giving away anything he might’ve tried to hide.

“Uh, weel, um…”

Brian didn’t say a word, just raised an encouraging eyebrow.

“Claire, Claire Beauchamp. She’s new, and she sits next to me, and she English, but I don’t mind, and she sits next to me and she wore purple and…”

In that moment as Jamie continued on at lightning speed telling him everything about this new girl, Brian was sure his heart couldn’t be more filled with love. He knew it would be a difficult road for the lad, love always was, but what a ride! Later he would talk more seriously on it, warn him, advise him; but for now, he’d let Jamie have his happiness.

After getting Jamie to stop talking and convincing him that he did in fact still have to get ready for bed, he helped him pick out his outfit for the next day and promised to help with his hair in the morning, agreeing that he should look his best tomorrow.  After all of the details were sorted for the next day, he left Jamie’s room, leaning on the door for a moment to say a silent prayer for his love sick son. As he walked into his own room, he spoke out loud: “Watch over him, protect him, and guide him. Because, and God help him Ellen, he’s in love.”

 ——-

A few weeks later Jamie had come to some conclusions: wearing his best shirt to school was a terrible idea as he was far to clumsy not ruin it, Rupert and Angus were no good, terrible friends and he would have to pummel them at some point soon, and Claire knew far more bad words than he did.

He had spoken to Rupert and Angus about their helping Claire around, and annoyingly they had begun to tease him about his interest in the new English girl. He was sure he couldn’t blush any more as his so called friends made kissy noises at him in the hallway, but then Claire showed up. Having overheard their teasing, she promptly told them to piss off and leave him alone. This, of course, did nothing to dissuade their teasing, and Jamie was sure that his face was red enough to be confused for sun poisoning. The upside however, was that from that interaction they began to talk and he walked her back to class.

           In the weeks since Claire had arrived, she had made friends fairly easily, played with a few of the girls in their class, Geillis, Mary and Louise mainly, but now seemed more interested in spending what free time she had with him. She would seek him out in the lunch room, during their outside time they would sit on the swings and talk about their families and the places she had been with her uncle. Jamie was fascinated, and more than please that she chose him to be near.

A few days before the holiday break, Jamie found Claire sitting on the steps outside of the school as he left for the day. She was clearly waiting to be picked up.  Mrs. Fitz had come out a bit later to inform her that her uncle had called and said that he wouldn’t be able to pick her up and that she could walk home. Jamie jumped at the chance before him and offered to walk her home. Neither of them lived far, but they had never interacted outside of school before. He was unsure of what to say or do and more nervous than he’d been in a very long time. They both tried talking but ended up jumping from subject to subject with nothing really being said. They both kept their eyes straight ahead avoiding meeting each other’s eyes directly. When they turned onto her street, she stopped suddenly. He looked around and seeing that they were only just on the corner and still a good distance from any of the houses. Confused, he cocked his head a bit and was just about to say something; she took a deep breath, leaned in and kissed him. Pulling away quickly a fierce blush coloring her face she said:

“Thank you for walking me home, Jamie. I’ll see you tomorrow.” and turned on her heel and walked the rest of the way to her house.

Jamie stood absolutely frozen on that corner for what felt like forever. He was stunned, she had kissed him! He didn’t know that kissing could stop time; no one had ever told him that before.  He always thought kissing would messy, it always looked gross to him and he’d always said so when his mam and da would do it in the kitchen. But this was different, and as time began to move again, he started to make his way home. For the rest of the night he was in a haze unable to focus. He knew he looked foolish, but he was unable to keep the smile from his face, especially when he would lick his lips where hers had pressed, and he was still able to taste the fruity lip smackers she used.

A few days later when they went back to school, everything had changed. He had walked into their classroom eager to talk to her, to see how her holiday was, and to tell her of his. Finding Angus in her seat his heart sank, he looked around and found her clear across the classroom sitting with the girls, laughing and doing her best not to look at him. He held her spot at lunch but she never came, stayed with the girls and didn’t play on the swings during recess. In fact she only showed that she recognized his existence when he spoke directly to her, and even that was just a simple “hello” before she turned away from him and continued talking with Louise. He was crushed and so very confused; what had happened? He couldn’t sleep that night, kept running over what could have happened, why didn’t she like him anymore?

 ——-

Two weeks, she hadn’t spoken to him in two weeks when his father had been called into the school because they had become concerned when they noticed a sudden change in his behavior. Normally a model student, he was now dozing off in class and having trouble paying attention when he was awake, showing no interest in any of the material. Mrs. Fitz had brought up her concerns remembering the year before when he lost his mother and wanted to make sure his father was aware of the situation before it got worse.

Unbeknownst to the Frasers, Lambert Beauchamp and Claire also had an appointment in the office that day. Passing the waiting area with his father, movement caught Jamie’s attention and he stopped as he saw Claire sitting next to who he assumed was her uncle. He face was drawn and it was clear that something was very wrong, he made to stop, to say something, anything; but just then they called for Claire and the man to go back and Brian pushed lightly moving them forward out of the office.  

Apologizing for the interruption, he his way through the class to his desk and quietly began pulling out his books for the lesson. When he opened his notebook a small piece of folded paper fell into his lap. Opening the note, he was sure his heart stopped.

————–

Jamie,

       I’m sorry. I miss you.

Do you like me, would you maybe be my friend again?

Would you walk me home today?
Check yes [ ] or no [ ]

-Claire

PS. You can hold my hand, if you want to.

————–

He shoved the note back into his desk before Mrs. Fitz could see it and quickly tried to look like he was engrossed in his work and like nothing had happened, ear to ear smile notwithstanding. Finally managing to get a grip on himself, he had managed to get every note and problem off the board without issue before Claire reappeared in their classroom. Looking up to watch her his smile fell from his mouth in an instant, she looked like she had watched something terrible happen, dried lines streaked her face from recent tears. It took all the effort he could muster to focus on what Mrs. Fitz was going over, but he had promised his da, and thankfully did make it through the rest of the day with no issue. Though his mind had stayed on the look she had on her face and a few minutes before the bell rang he pulled out her note again and hastily scribbled something down.

He found Claire on the front steps arms wrapped around her, staring off into space.

Worry suddenly sinking in, he asked, “Claire, what’s happened?”

She didn’t answer, just simply shook her head and began to walk in the direction of home.

Halfway through their silent walk, she slipped her small cold hand into his. Neither of them said anything, but he squeezed gently and continued on. She stopped at the corner again, released his hand, took a deep breath and looked up to him.

“Jamie..”

He knew whatever she was going to say was bad and couldn’t bear it just yet. Before she could continue he thrust her not into her hand saying:

“I forgot, I got your note. Here, you’ll want the answer, aye?”

She nodded and slowly opened it, and burst into tears.

Jamie moved to hug her to say something, to sooth her, but she backed away shaking her head, not saying anything. She let her tears fall freely, but didn’t break eye contact.

Finally, when she spoke he heard his heart break. It was a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower’s stem.

“Jamie we’re moving; we leave in the morning.”