#cold brew vibes

[addigifi]

✨ Fresh brew, fresh look!

We partnered with Kafo Cold Brew Coffee to bring their bold flavor to life — from eye-catching packaging to a sleek, modern website that captures their cool, caffeinated vibe. ☕💻

At Addigifi, we don’t just design — we build experiences that energize brands. Check out how we brewed up a full creative experience for Kafo! 🔥

📦 Packaging Design

🌐 Website Development

⚡️ Brand Consistency from shelf to screen

[toyastales]

Homemade Coffee Frappuccino

[toomunchphotos]

Fall weekend 🎃 Cold Brew flight >>

[auraeseer]

Frigid . . .

[tobitenkit]

said it before and i'll say it again being a regular at a coffee place is THE best. rolled up to the window my drink was already made. dude said "sup motherfucker", drizzled caramel on top, and and them gave it to me for free for basically no reason

[relkefitness]

Pumpkin Cream Cold Brew acquired 🍂🎃☕️

[wildwithlight]

[bwabbitv3s]

Tucker is working at Wayne Enterprises not too long before clocks them as the civilian identity of Batman and Red Robin. He treats it like how Danny and them did back in high school. No one uninitiated to the club of people I talk about this for the second identity get the low down on it and treat it as two different people, not one shared one. He has done a great job of this and it is not that hard. As they keep the details that would drop the illusion on tight lock down. Really good job guys solid with plenty of plausible deniability.

Normally if this was not so time sensitive he would just drop off the file with their designated police guy Gordan or phone in the bat tip line to get a secure drop location. Only this can't really wait that long so he is going to have to dip behind the curtain to keep the show going. Not much just a tiny bit and he will keep it on the down low to not ruin the illusion for those not in the know.

Tucker rocks into the office a bit early for his shift with the file. He lets one of the secretaries knows he is doing a paperwork run to Tim's office and asks if they have anything to join the stack? A couple more files join his by the time he makes it to the right floor. He drops them off like a normal delivery of more sensitive physical copy files. Well almost normal he also leave an apology Death Wish coffee and breakfast sandwich for him dropping off extra work. Tim barely looks up until the coffee and smell of greasy fried goodness hits. By then Tucker has already left and gone to do his regular start of shift stuff. Not realizing that the file titles Red Robin Only is causing a tiny controlled meltdown before even being opened.

It of course only gets worse when a week later Danny shows up to visit Tucker at work. Cut to Danny floating part way through a wall to hand Tucker the box of fudge he forgot to bring in while in front of Tim. Nothing like apology fudge to help smooth things over. You forgot this this morning after staying up so late making it. Tucker why is one of the bats freaking out? I thought you had the whole sorry for breaking the illusion and dipping into your civilian identity talk already. What do you mean it is an supposed to be an actual secret?!

Tucker gets a job at Wayne Enterprises, and instantly clocks Bruce and Tim and Batman and Red Robin (and thus by extension figures out the rest of the family).

But since he figured it out so easily, he assumes it’s an open secret that everyone knows but keeps on the down-low for privacy and whatnot. After all, that’s what Danny’s identity had been like by the time they all graduated. Basically everyone in town knew unless the feds were asking. Because those white-suited government bastards can Fuck Right Off.

And thus, when he later finds an important potential lead on something, he doesn’t think much of just… handing it off to them to deal with. Yeah, he’s temporarily breaking the illusion, but it’s not that big of a deal.

Needless to say, Tim vehemently disagrees with that assessment, and is now deeply invested in finding out what the hell is up with his employee and his weirdly secretive hometown.

[staygoldtf]

me and my cold brew coffee, percocet, and 90% OG distillate against the world today

✨just chronic illness girly things✨

[cumuluslife]

Vanilla Chai Pumpkin Cream Cold Brew

Tieghan Gerard Photography

[brewscoop]

Looking for the perfect spot to enjoy fantastic craft beer and delicious food? Check out our latest review of Dark Horse Brewing Co. From mouthwatering pizzas to a vibrant family vibe and ice-cold beers, discover why this place is a must-visit for both locals and travelers!

[ghostmaggie]

wait i love this fortnight remix?? i...was not expecting that. i feel so ALIVE

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A CARD: How will your future spouse pursue you ⋆˙⟡

✧˚. How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images above. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you, go ahead and read both!

✧˚. If you enjoyed this reading, get your own personalized paid reading here!😊🦋

✧˚. For personalized 18+ readings, click here!

✧˚. My Ko-fi link: here 🫶🏻

✧˚. My Masterlist🫶🏻

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ PILE I

Cards Pulled: king of swords, knight of cups reversed, king of pentacles, the sun, the tower, 2 of swords

Right off the bat, you’re gonna think this person is cold. PERIOD. I’m sorry, but King of Swords as the first card, this ain’t some gushy softie sliding into your DMs with heart emojis and “wyd baby.” Nah, theyre giving emotionally disciplined, calculating, and “I only let three people see the real me and you’re not on the list… yet. YET” they might come across lowkey intimidating at first, like, the kind of person who’s quiet in group settings but throws out that one sarcastic comment that’s so sharp it makes everyone laugh and feel personally attacked. 😭💀

BUT TRUST ME, they’re watching you. Like… a hawk. They’re the type who is taking mental notes on your coffee order, your laugh patterns, the way you furrow your brows when you’re deep in thought, stuff even you don’t know you do. But honesty love….. they’re into you from day one, but they plays it off like he’s unbothered. Classic King of Swords move. Strategic af. Theyre lowkey fighting himself. Like, internally they got this soft, romantic, borderline poetic thing brewing, he fantasizes about running into you by “accident,” planning the most aesthetic dates, imagining you in his hoodie😭but he’s actively repressing it. Because vulnerability? He’d rather eat glass, thanks. He doesn’t want to be obvious. He’s convinced if he lets on how deep he’s feeling this, he’ll lose the upper hand or get hurt. So what does he do instead? Weird passive-aggressive things. Acts uninterested one minute, then gives you eyes across the room like he’s trying to telepathically undress your soul the next. Sir. Pick a lane. He doesn’t chase, he builds. He slowly starts showing up for you in the most tangible, grounded ways. Need help with something? He’s already on it. Mentioned your favorite snack in passing? It just “randomly” appears next time. The way this man provides?? You’ll be SHOOK. He’s not flashy about it either. He’s like, “I got you” and means it. That’s when you start going: “Wait… are they… serious?” Because once this person is IN, he is IN. Like, no games, no pullbacks. Suddenly it’s "have you eaten?" and "text me when you get home" and "do you want me to fix that thing?." Husband mode activated. 

BUT THEN. Omg. THE TOWER. 😭 Baby this is where it goes OFF. Something will shift drastically. And honestly, You might be the one who triggers it, ofc we are talking about you here so. Like maybe you call him out for his hot-and-cold vibe, or you walk away ‘cause you’re done playing Guess Who: Feelings Edition. Whatever it is, it SHATTERS his cool-boy facade. The Tower is giving “omg I fumbled” realness. He suddenly realizes how much he could lose and spirals. Might even go quiet for a second, lick his wounds, have a whole emotional breakdown. But then… boom. THE SUN. This is where the magic happens. The pursuit becomes warm, honest, and loud. He stops hiding. He owns it. Like, “Yeah, I like you. Actually, I love you. Actually, I wanna grow old with you and argue about what brand of detergent we’re using.” You’ll feel seen, adored, and finally safe in this connection. It’s that post-breakdown glow-up. He starts expressing himself clearly, no longer scared to let you in.

But now. Girl. YOU are gonna be the one hesitating now 😭. That Tower moment hits you, too. You start overthinking: “Can I trust this sudden 180? Was he always this into me and just hiding it? Do I want someone who couldn’t be vulnerable from the start?” Like, your brain starts weighing everythings. And that’s valid! It’s hard to unsee someone’s walls once you’ve bumped into them. So how do you perceive him throughout this journey? At first, cold and confusing af. Then… weirdly magnetic. Then dependable and lowkey daddy-coded. Then chaotic and heartbreak-y. Then sunshine and deeply, deeply sincere. You’ll feel like you’re watching him peel back layer after layer, and each one gets softer, realer, and more him.

His hints would be subtle but intentional. He remembers small things. He lingers a bit longer in conversations than necessary. He suddenly shows interest in the things you love, even if they weren’t his vibe before. He gives you those “you’re the only person in this room I care about” eyes. He’ll NEVER say it first… until he breaks. And when he does? You’re done. Stick a fork in you. Soul snatched. Game over.

I am seeing like he might dream about you before things really pop off. He might tell you later like ,“I had this weird dream we were married lol” and laugh it off, but internall,y he’s BLUSHINGGG because the dream felt real. Also… idk why I’m seeing like… rain or some stormy weather being important??? Maybe the Tower moment literally happens during a stormy day and you both cry under the rain like a movie scene? (i mean…..idc… if i am getting me personal main character moment. It’s all part of the process, i guess💁🏻‍♀️).

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⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ PILE II

Cards Pulled: the tower, king of wands, 5 of pentacles, queen of cups, 8 of pentacles, 10 of pentacles

PILE 2, Okay but… why does this feel like a well written kdrama with 16 episodes??? I mean i could literally make a movie out of this pile 😭 my reaction to the cards were literally: oh, OH, ahh , TF, Oh. My. GOD.😭 

The drama. The rawness. The "I didn’t see this coming, but now I literally can’t look away" energy is off the charts. And I’m already obsessed. So let’s talk about how this chaotic yet painfully magnetic future spouse of yours is about to come stomping into your world like they own the place, with all their trauma and broken broken parts and this weirdly hot charisma that shouldn’t be attractive but is. And somehow?? You fall for it. But like… respectfully 😭.

this person doesn’t approach you like your average person in love would do. No flowers and shy glances. Nope. It’s giving, "I just burnt my life down and now I’m rebuilding from scratch and oh look, you’re here too," vibes. Like you know when someone walks into a room and they don’t say much but their energy is SCREAMING "I’ve been through the trauma you couldn't even imagine"? That’s them. Tower card energy straight up. Something’s just collapsed in their life, could be a major breakup, a career flop, family drama, or literally an existential crisis. Honestly? Feels like all three, let’s not lie 💀. But instead of moping around, this person grabs that chaos and turns it into… ambition. Swagger. Power. This is someone who knows how to lead. They pursue you like they’re chasing their next purpose. With intention. With clarity. And this lowkey intimidating confidence that says “I know what I want, and it’s you.” But let’s not pretend it’s smooth sailing here. Bc 5 of Pentacles? Babe. This person has been abandoned, emotionally iced out, or felt major rejection in the past. Like it’s giving "I’ve loved and I’ve lost and now I trust NO ONE but my dog”. And because of that, Their way of pursuing you is… messy. Not in a manipulative way, but in that "I’m trying to be a lover while still patching up my own wounds" type of mess. So expect mixed signals. Hot and cold. Deep talks followed by withdrawal. And you’re gonna be like, “Sir?? Do you like me or do you need therapy??” honestly: it’s both 😭.

Queen of Cups as the next card is where things get interesting. You. Literally you. You're intuitive AF, emotionally intelligent, and probably catch onto their emotional damage in the first week and are like “Yup. You’re hurt. But I see the softie under all that wreckage.” And here's where it gets wild: they know you see it. That’s what makes them pursue harder. You’re the first person who doesn’t just want them for their outer confidence and King of Wands hotness, you want to know their soul. Their weird inner child. Their guilt. Their hidden sadness. And that?? That shakes them. In a good way. You start noticing little things. Like how they’ll work on themselves just to be better for you. They start showing up. Maybe it’s slow, but you’ll see them trying, healing their abandonment issues, learning to communicate, showing effort in tangible ways. Like planning little dates, asking how your day was (and ACTUALLY listening….woah rare, ngl), sharing parts of their past without you asking. They might even pick up new skills or hobbies because you like them. A little "if she likes books, I read books now" moment?? 😭😭 Despite how mature and scarred and big-boss they may appear, at their core, they’re a newbie when it comes to actual healthy love. Like yeah, they’ve loved before. But not YOU kind of love. Not “you see me even when I’m not performing” kind of love. And that humbles the hell out of them. They're awkward about it. Like, "I wanna give you the world but I also don’t know how to wrap a gift box correctly." 😭 It’s so endearing, you can’t help but melt. They pursue you like someone relearning love from scratch, and you become their soft place to land. They’ll stumble. They’ll overthink. But babe, they’ll try. And that’s what makes them fall harder. Because this ain’t about seduction. It’s about growth. They're not gonna outright confess their feels in the beginning. It’s gonna be hidden in acts of service. Like fixing your broken lamp. Or sending you a meme with a weird caption like, "reminds me of u" Or casually saying “I don’t talk to many people like I do with you,” and then acting like it wasn’t a full-on emotional proposal. Their love language is subtle till it’s not, okay?? But your intuitive self picks up on every damn sign, and you’ll know before they even open their mouth. That’s the connection here, psychic soulmate level. You’ll feel their love way before it’s said.

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⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ PILE III

Cards Pulled: king of wands, 3 of cups, knight of swords reversed, the devil, 8 of cups, the star

OKAY, PILE 3 is here and… GIRL this pile has such strong, “Dark romance” vibes and also that “enemies to lovers but we’re obsessed with each other” trope energy like NO OTHER 😮‍💨🔥. Your future spouse? It’s that person who shows up outta nowhere and instantly throws your life into disarray because the connection is too much, too fast, too real. They pursue you like they’ve waited lifetimes to find you and now that you’re finally here, they’re not gonna risk losing you, even if it means accidentally traumatizing you with their intensity first 😭.

So let’s start with the vibe of this person, okay? Immediately I’m seeing someone who is dominant AF in presence, the type of person where the second they walk into a room, your attention shifts without your permission. But they’re not all flash and no depth, this person has that charismatic, “traumatized but make it aesthetic��� confidence LOL. Think: the guy who’s lowkey too cool for everyone but gets soft for you 🫠. But it’s not just charm. It's calculated. They choose to pursue you. Like, they spotted you from across the damn soul contract timeline and were like, “Yep. That one. Mine.” LMAO.

Here’s where it gets juicy though, this person doesn’t make their pursuit clean or safe. We’ve got the Knight of Swords reversed mixed with The Devil and 3 of Cups… BABY. I’m not gonna lie, their approach is gonna have you shook. This isn't some slow-burn "lemme get to know you" type of chase. Nah, it’s giving intoxicated obsession. Like they’re coming at you way too fast, might say things they haven’t thought through (hello chaotic confessions??), maybe even making moves when you’re like “Wait… tf is happening?!” . And I SWEAR this person gives off the vibe of someone who might try to "just be friends" first… but they absolutely fail at it. Like... you’re not slick, sir. The way they look at you? Not very "friendly." More like "I wanna pin you to the wall in a meaningful way." 😭 it’s like you look into their eyes once aand you are going inot their crib TONIGHT. 

BUT. Their pursuit of you isn’t just lusty and impulsive, it’s coming from a place of deep yearning and soul ache. You’re literally the star they’ve been trying to find after walking away from a bunch of superficial crap. I’m getting that they’ve already been through a lot emotionally, they’ve had to let go of people, addictions (literal or emotional), maybe even success that wasn’t fulfilling. So while their approach is messy and extra (like “sir pls chill”), it’s coming from a place of craving real healing, real light, REAL connection. And guess what? That’s what you are to them. Their fkn North Star. And trust me, they don't even realize it at first, like they’re thinking they’re chasing a thrill, but gets, spiritual awakening outta nowhere. Bestie… you’re gonna think they’re too much. 😂 Straight up. You’ll be like “This person is hot, sure……but wtf is this energy??” It’ll feel like you’re constantly trying to decide between “should I kiss them or block them?” Energy chaotic AF. You’ll clock them trying to play it cool, but their eyes? Screaming "I'm feral for you." It’s also possible they’ll show up when you’re trying to move on from someone/something else, and you’ll be hesitant because you’re finally healing, vibing, living in peace, and here comes this walking temptation in human form, knocking on your aura like “hey 😏.” i mean really this emoji is the perfect example of how i am imagining this person.  There’s definitely a karmic undertone here, like you two have danced this dance before in past lives but it was let uncompleted. So now, they're NOT playing around. And the way The Star closes the reading? OOF. After all the chaos, the push/pull, the temptation, and messy little love games… they want peace with you. You are the peace. The wish. The endgame. But it’s not gonna come pretty.

Okay so their hints are not actually hints. They’ll accidentally drop the biggest signs , forgetting they’re supposed to pretend. They’ll joke about being obsessed with you? Deadass. They’ll mention you in every convo “by accident.” They might post quotes on their stories or make weird comments like “If I ever fall in love, it’ll be someone like you” 🙄, SIR. STOP. WE SEE YOU.  The 3 of Cups energy is also giving “I’ll use mutual friends to get close to you,” like casually showing up at a party where you just happen to be?? Please.And listen, not everything will be smooth sailing. That Devil energy is LOUD. There will be moments where you’ll wonder if you’re drawn to them because it’s fated… or because it’s toxic. But that’s part of the growth arc. They’re not here to ruin your life, they’re here to crack your heart open with messy hands. And once they realize that they can’t control you? That’s when the real magic starts. That’s when they fall so damn hard, they start building a whole new version of themselves just to be worthy of your light.

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Thank you so much for reading all the way through! I hope my reading resonated with you and that you had a lovely time going through it. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog, it really means a lot! Let me know which pile you chose; I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and feedback on my readings! If my reading resonated you, you may consider buying my paid reading as it would really help me out financially♡

Note: tarot cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not fixedly predict the future. this is a general reading so take what resonates!

[emmiesoverthemoon]

melting

pairing: ot8 x reader

word count: 4k

summary: you're invited on a cabin getaway with ot8, and you just can't not be their soft spot. they love you so bad.

tags: reverse harem vibe; fluff, soft moments with each member, tiny hurt/comfort if you squint. chubby!reader—requested!

🩷: i just want to note that on the topic of body types in my works, none of my other works have implications of physiques, appearances, heights, etc. i don’t want to give the impression that because this work specifically is a chubby main character as requested - all my other works have skinny/other body type main characters.

there is no sort of (work) is for x body type and (other work) is for y body type on my page. everyone is included! you are beautiful no matter what your body type is. and i won’t tolerate any kind of negativity toward any body. now enjoy this story! thanks for your request x

The drive up had been quiet, surprisingly. The kind of quiet wrapped in the kind of peaceful hush that only winter could bring. Snow gathered like frosting along the tree branches, glittering under a pale, endless sky. When the cabin came into view — all cedar and stone, with smoke curling gently from the chimney — you felt something in your chest loosen.

It was secluded. Safe. Big enough for all of you to have a room to yourselves to breathe without drifting apart.

The others spilled inside ahead of you, boots thudding, laughter echoing off the beams as they explored. Jeongin called dibs on a room with the biggest window. Seungmin claimed the second-best room, just to spite Minho, who was walking from door-to-door, checking out each one. Someone turned on a speaker, and music drifted through the air tangling with the warmth.

You were the last one out of the van. Not on purpose, really — just taking a moment to let the moment seep in. Maybe to shake off the nerves, maybe to adjust your coat. Maybe because you still could not believe they had invited you on this trip in the first place.

But then the van door slid open again.

“Come on, angel,” Felix grinned over at you, curls falling over his forehead. “Your room’s got such a pretty window view and three blankets. I picked them myself and gave you the best ones.”

Grinning softly, you followed him out into the cold, your boots crunching against the snow. The others who had yet to run inside to claim a room were unloading bags and shouting across the clearing of the driveway.

You stood in the entryway of the cabin for a moment, frost clinging to the ends of your hair, and your arms wrapped tight around yourself — not because you were cold, but because you were trying to make yourself small. Like you always did when they were all around you. Not because they ever made you feel like you had to… but because sometimes it was hard to believe you didn’t have to.

Then came Chan, stepping behind you, the soft thump of his hand landing gently on your lower back, rubbing comfortingly.

“You okay?”

You nodded, not wanting to ruin the warm mood with your thoughts.

He didn’t press. Just gave that quiet little hum — the one he always gave when he wanted to say more but knew better — and took your bag from your hand like it was instinct. “Come on. They’re already fighting over who gets to cook for you first.”

Of course they were.

And you felt it then; how soft the air turned whenever their eyes landed on you, how it lingered. No one said it aloud. No one needed to. You were the only guest. The only one they had all invited, alongside the original eight. And something about that meant more than it should have.

By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, the fire was crackling, hot chocolate was brewing, and you were on the couch with eight bodies stretched out around you in every direction. Not touching — not yet. But close. So close you could feel it in your fingertips.

And the way Seungmin handed you a pillow without speaking, the way Hyunjin’s hand brushed yours as he passed the marshmallows, the way Chan lingered a moment too long in the doorway before flicking the lights off for the night.

It made you feel peaceful, soft, and comfortable.

The cabin had gone quiet hours ago. Everyone else had drifted off — some to bedrooms, some still snoring softly from the living room floor — but you had not been able to sleep.

So you wandered to the kitchen. Barefoot, hoodie half-zipped, trailing your fingers along the edges of counters you barely recognized in the dark.

You had just opened the fridge when you heard it: soft footsteps behind you.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Jeongin asked, voice scratchy from tiredness.

You turned. He was in flannel pants and a hoodie too big for his frame, hair messy and lips still pink from sleep. But his eyes were sharp. Awake. On you.

“No,” you murmured. “Too quiet.”

He nodded, walking past you to the kettle. “I was gonna make tea. Want some?”

You nodded.

The silence between you was easy — companionable. But it held something else, too. That faint, charged awareness that had followed you all day. It lived in the way he poured the water without asking your favourite and somehow still picked the exact tea you would have chosen. It lived in how he leaned against the counter beside you, arms folded, hip brushing yours like it had nowhere else to go.

“Everyone’s been all over you recently,” he said after a moment. Not jealous. Just observant. His voice stayed soft. “Not that I’m surprised.”

You looked over at him. “What do you mean?”

Jeongin’s lips curled into the smallest smile. “You’re the kind of person who makes people want to lean closer.”

The kettle clicked and a soft whistle echoed in the room.

He poured the tea, added the components to make it just how you like it, and poured your mug over without meeting your eyes.

“But I saw it first,” he added, a little quieter now. “I just… never knew how to say it.”

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to.

Instead, you leaned your head gently against his shoulder, and he let out a breath like he’d been holding it all day.

He stayed there with you until the tea went cold, and lingered where you once stood by him when you retired to your room after exchanging caring goodnights.

You were the last to wake, you had slept through breakfast with everyone. You padded out into the kitchen, yawning, hoodie pulled tight around your middle, and observed the guys outside. Snow pressed soft against the windows, and the world outside was dipped in white and gold.

Your boys were outside, partaking in a spontaneous snowball fight caused by Jisung throwing—and missing—a snowball at Hyunjin, laughter echoing through the trees. You opted to stay behind, content to warm your fingers near the stove and drink in the hush.

That’s when Minho walked into the kitchen. Clad in a low-slung pair of sweats and a cardigan hanging open at the chest, hair still tousled from bed. He didn’t look surprised to see you up late.

“I figured you’d skip the cold,” he murmured.

You shrugged. “I’m conserving my energy.”

Minho snorted, then moved past you to the fridge.

“You eaten?”

“Not yet. I’m not really hungry.”

He paused.

Then, he moved away to pull out one of the chairs at the small table near the window, “Sit. I’ll make something.”

You blinked. “You don’t have to—”

“I’m making it anyway,” he said simply.

You obeyed him, there was no point in arguing against Minho. He moved around the kitchen with calm precision. He made nothing overly flashy, but it came together fast — practiced, like he’d made it just for you before.

He slid the plate in front of you, then leaned against the counter, watching.

“You gonna stare at me until I eat?” you asked.

“Yes.”

You smirked. “Why?”

“Because I care about you.”

The answer hit harder than it should have.

You looked down at the plate. It was perfect. Just the way you liked it. No questions asked.

“You’re always feeding the others,” he said softly. “So I wanted to feed you.”

That was Minho, really. He didn’t say I love you — he handed you a peeled orange before you asked for it. He didn’t ask Are you okay? — he made your favourite meal without ever being told.

You took a bite and hummed, pleased.

His smile was small and slight, and his shoulders relaxed just a tad.

Then — like it was nothing — he walked over, sat in the chair beside you, and pulled your socked foot into his lap.

“You can pretend I’m not soft,” he murmured, pressing his thumb gently into your arch. “But you’re the only one I do this for. Don't tell the others, only you get special treatment.”

You didn’t move. You couldn’t.

He fed you warmth in food, in touch, in silence.

And for the rest of that morning, you allowed him be as soft as he pleased for you.

In the afternoon, the backyard had erupted into chaos.

Somewhere in the distance, Hyunjin was filming a fake music video with a broom, much to Changbin’s entertainment. Felix and Seungmin were arguing over who had better aim with a snowball, despite the snow already half-melted into slush. But none of that mattered. Not to you. Not to Jisung.

Because he had locked eyes with you, wiggled his brows, and said, “I bet I can catch you in ten seconds.”

You had bolted before he had said go.

Now, you were sprinting through the wet grass, passing remnants of melting snow from the beaming sunshine, Jisung right on your tail with all the determination of a man chasing something he never wanted to let go.

“You’re cheating!” you yelled between laughs.

“Impossible!” he panted. “You’re just slow!”

You zig-zagged around the side of the cabin, heart pounding, lungs burning with breathless joy. Then — arms around your waist, a victorious yell — he tackled you onto the oversized beanbag someone had conveniently dragged outside earlier.

You landed with a thud, his body crashing half on top of you, his face hovering over yours.

The laughter caught somewhere between your throat and his. Everything froze.

You were both breathing hard — noses almost brushing, his fingers still wrapped around your wrist, chest heaving where it pressed lightly against yours.

“Got you,” he whispered, a little dazed.

You swallowed.

“You always do,” you whispered back, quieter than you meant to.

Jisung’s grin faltered, replaced by something softer. His eyes searched yours — still bright, still teasing, but now shimmering with something far more dangerous.

He reached up, brushing a blade of grass from your hair, fingers lingering just a moment too long.

“I like when you laugh like that,” he said softly.

Then, just as quickly, he flopped onto his back beside you, pulling you with him until your head landed on his shoulder. His arm curled instinctively around you, casual but firm. Protective.

“I mean…” He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks flushing suddenly. “I like a lot of things about you, but... that one’s high on the list.”

He grinned again, smaller now. More real.

You lay there like that, pressed into his side, feeling the wild thrum of your heart begin to slow.

“You make me feel like I’m fourteen again,” he murmured, voice low. “Stupid and giddy. And like maybe, if I say one more dumb thing, you’ll kiss me just to shut me up.”

You didn’t answer.

But your hand found his. And you held it. Quiet and sure.

And for once, Jisung didn’t joke. He just smiled — soft and private — like maybe that had been enough.

Dinner was chaotic — as dinners always were with eight boys and too many voices. Laughter echoed off the walls, the table overflowed with mismatched dishes full of different delicious foods, and someone had already spilled a drink across the tablecloth.

You sat at the end of the table, half-listening, your fingers idly turning your fork over and over. You were not hungry, not really — there was too much noise, too much motion, too many eyes. You had made yourself small again without meaning to.

And Felix noticed.

He always noticed.

You felt his gaze before you heard his voice — soft, close, careful.

“You didn’t eat much.”

You flinched and looked up.

Felix was beside you now, crouched slightly so he could speak just to you. His freckles were highlighted in the warm light. His eyes held none of the teasing sparkle he showed the others. Just quiet concern.

“I’m okay,” you said, brushing it off with a faint smile.

He did not move. Did not believe you.

“I made the roast for you,” he said as casually as asking for the weather, but the pink flush dusting his cheeks and his lips lifting at the edges showed anything but casualness in his actions. “You said it reminded you of your mum’s.”

That part was true — you had told him once, offhandedly, that you had missed your mother’s home cooking on a walk last week when the wind was sharp and your heart was soft.

He had remembered.

“I’ll get you a plate,” he said gently, standing before you could argue.

You watched as he carefully chose from each dish — made sure you had enough of what you liked, and none of what you avoided. He even added a sprig of parsley on the edge to decorate the plate, like it was something sacred.

When he placed it in front of you, he smiled — small, private. “Eat slow,” he said. “No one’s rushing you. No one's judging you.”

Then — before he left — he leaned down, brushing a stray hair from your face with the backs of his fingers.

“You deserve to be looked after, too. I’m always here to do that angel.”

And just like that, he returned to his seat. But his eyes flicked to you now and then — checking on you quietly, not pressuring.

You ate slowly. Not entirely because he told you to — but because in that moment, you felt steady. Seen, like you mattered in ways that did not need noise to be real. Your warmed heart was a lot to process.

After everything was cleaned up, you found Changbin by the fireplace, fiddling with the worn zipper of his hoodie. The others had migrated elsewhere — a movie murmuring in the background, snacks crunched between shared jokes — but this room was quieter now. Lit by firelight and something else that hung between you.

“You okay?” he asked, looking up at you with a soft voice, like he already knew the answer.

You gave a small shrug and dropped to sit beside him. Not quite close, not quite far.

“I just…” You paused. “Sometimes I feel out of place. Like I take up too much space. Or not the right kind.”

Changbin looked at you then. Really looked. No surprise in his eyes. No pity, either — just a calm kind of recognition.

“I feel like that sometimes,” he said quietly.

You blinked.

He smiled, self-conscious, rubbing the back of his neck. “People see confidence. Muscles. Jokes. But I grew up hating my voice. My face. My body. Still do, some days.”

You stayed silent, stunned by his honesty.

“I know what it feels like,” he continued. “To sit in a room full of people you love and still wonder if you belong in it.”

You could feel your throat constricting.

“But you do,” he said. “I promise you do. We brought you here for a reason.”

He shifted closer, enough for your shoulders to brush. “And even if you don’t see it tonight... I’ll see it for you. I see you as someone I want to be around every day.”

You let your head tip onto his shoulder.

“I know you hide yourself sometimes,” he added. “When you’re tired. When you’re overwhelmed. When you’re down. But I see you.”

Your eyes met his — wide, vulnerable.

“And you do not have to be like that with me. Not here. Not tonight. Not ever.”

He opened the his arm and wrapped it around you, then pulled you against his chest like it was the only place you were meant to be. His arms were solid around you. Not caging. Not forcing. Just there. Anchoring.

“You’re allowed to fall apart a little,” he whispered, lips just above your temple. “I’ll hold the pieces.”

You didn’t realise how long you had needed to hear that. To hear that not only someone understood, but had been in the same boat as you.

Not through a grand gesture. Not through loud declarations. Just through a boy who knew how it felt.

It was not even 8 a.m. the next morning when you were challenged to a nine-way game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who was going to make the dreaded convenience store trip.

And it ended with both you and Seungmin standing at the edge of the driveway, groggy and blinking against the pale morning light, breath puffing visibly into the air.

“Remind me why we agreed to this,” you muttered.

“We did not agree to this. They rigged it,” Seungmin muttered, adjusting the sleeves of his oversized hoodie. “Felix always does that weird finger-twitch before scissors. It’s cheating, psychologically.”

You smiled sleepily, tucking your hands into your jacket pockets. “You’re really upset about this.”

“Obviously. I’m now awake too early, underfed, and in charge of everyone’s snack cravings.”

He didn’t wait for a response, just started walking down the road toward the convenience store at the corner. You jogged a few steps to catch up.

Despite the grumbling, Seungmin made sure you walked on the inside of the sidewalk. When a car passed, he subtly angled himself between you and the road. When you tripped slightly on the uneven pavement, he caught your elbow without missing a beat.

He sighed theatrically. “They better appreciate this. If Felix texts me for some kind of milk after we get back, I’m going home.”

You laughed, leaning into him slightly, shoulder to shoulder. “You say that like you aren’t going to get him two of what he wants.”

He scowled at you.

You grinned in return.

The store was mostly empty, bright fluorescent lights buzzing quietly overhead. You both wandered through the aisles, grabbing a mess of snacks — ice creams, seaweed crisps, warm sweet buns from the warmer near the counter. Seungmin wordlessly handed you a can of your favourite drink, then looked away like it was nothing.

To him, it was not nothing.

On the walk back, you offered him a bite of the red bean bun you had opened. He accepted it with a grumble. “This is the only good part of this whole cursed mission.”

And when the house finally came into view again, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Next time,” he said, voice low, “let’s lose on purpose.”

You blinked. “Why?”

His mouth twitched into a barely-there smile.

“Because it was kinda nice. Just us.”

And that, for Seungmin, said everything.

The steady afternoon murmur of voices and clinking dishes drifted from the open windows behind you, laughter bubbling up in waves as the others prepared the evening’s meal. You slipped outside, craving a moment away from the bustle, and found Hyunjin settled in the porch swing, a steaming mug cradled between his hands.

He looked up as you approached, that familiar, easy smile lighting his face. “Needed some fresh air?” he asked, voice gentle.

You nodded and eased down onto the chair beside him, the wood creaking softly beneath you. The sun was warm, filtering through the tall pines that surrounded the cabin, dappling the porch with patches of light and shadow.

For a time, you simply breathed in the quiet—the soft rustle of the trees, the distant chatter, the faint crackle of the fire pit beyond the porch. The contrast between the lively energy inside and this peaceful corner made the moment feel like a secret shared between the two of you.

Hyunjin shifted just enough so your shoulders touched, the contact simple but grounding. His gaze softened as he met yours, eyes reflecting the dappled sunlight. “It’s nice here,” he murmured. “Like the world slows down a little.”

You smiled, leaning your head lightly on his shoulder, warmth spreading through you beyond the sun’s touch. “I could stay here forever,” you whispered.

His fingers found yours, weaving between them with a quiet certainty. “I don’t want to share this with anyone else,” he admitted, voice low, sincere.

You looked up, catching the depth in his eyes—the gentle promise wrapped in his words, the way he was offering something steady, patient, and real.

A breeze stirred, carrying with it the scent of pine needles and wood smoke, and you both exhaled together, breathing in the calm. Around you, the cabin pulsed with life, but here on this porch, cradled in the soft afternoon glow, it was just the two of you—connected, content, and quietly holding space for whatever might come next.

The night had settled quietly, wrapping the world in a blanket of soft snow and silence. The cold was sharp, each breath sending out little clouds that hung in the air like tiny ghosts. You tugged your coat tighter around yourself, fingers slipping into the warmth of your gloves, but the chill didn’t bite as fiercely when Chan was near.

Chan stood beside you, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes bright beneath the hood of his jacket. “It’s too perfect to stay inside,” he said, voice low and warm. “Come on. Let’s make snow angels.”

Without waiting for an answer, he took your hand, fingers curling around yours in that familiar way that made your heart skip. Together, you stepped off the porch onto the thick, untouched snow that blanketed the lawn.

Lying down side by side, you stretched your arms wide and moved slowly, carefully tracing wings into the soft powder beneath you. Your laughter rang out softly, the sound carried on the cold breeze, mixing with Chan’s own joyful chuckles.

When you sat up, the snow clung to your hair and coat, cold and fresh, and Chan reached out instantly, caressing your face to brush stray flakes away from your face. His fingertips were gentle, warm against your skin despite the cold night.

“You’re cold,” he said quietly, concern threading through his voice.

“I’m okay,” you murmured, catching your breath, the warmth from the shared laughter still glowing inside you.

He looked unconvinced, his eyes searching yours, full of that quiet care he showed without ever needing to say much. Slowly, he shifted closer, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you near.

“I’m always here, you know,” he said softly, voice almost a whisper. “No matter what.”

You leaned into him, your head resting against his chest where you could hear the steady beat of his heart—a rhythm so calm and grounding it made the cold feel miles away.

For a moment, you both stayed like that, wrapped in the fragile warmth between frost and light, under a sky so vast and still it seemed to hold all your unspoken promises.

Then Chan’s hand found yours again, fingers threading through yours with effortless ease, grounding you even more.

“It is cold out here,” he said after a beat, voice gentle but firm. “Let’s not wait too long before going back inside.”

You smiled up at him, your cheeks flushed not just from the cold. “Soon,” you promised.

But for now, you were exactly where you wanted to be—under fairy lights, cradled in the quiet night, with Chan’s steady warmth beside you.

Before you both could move inside, however, one by one, the others drifted outside, drawn by the soft night time snow and the sound of your shared laughter.

Jisung called out with a laugh, balancing a tray of snacks, while Minho checked the fire pit, expertly coaxing flames to life. Felix and Jeongin settled on the porch steps, quietly sharing a joke, while Seungmin leaned against the railing, watching the sky with a small, content smile.

Hyunjin sat on his spot on the swing, tired from having a warm, full stomach, and still wrapped in the peaceful quiet of the surroundings.

And there you were — nestled comfortably in the centre of this easy cluster, feeling every heartbeat and breath like threads weaving a delicate tapestry of belonging.

Changbin slid beside you, slipping his hand around your waist with a softness that surprised you, his usual fiery intensity melting into quiet warmth. “You okay?” he murmured, voice low and steady.

You nodded, resting your head against his shoulder again.

The air was cool but not bitingly cold, scented with pine and smoke, with the faint hum of the forest settling around you all.

Minho caught your eye, a small smile tugging at his lips as he handed you a cup of warm tea. “Make sure you don’t forget to eat,” he said softly, his tone protective, tender.

Felix grinned, nudging Jisung playfully. “We better watch out, she’s got us all wrapped around her finger.”

Changbin laughed, squeezing your hand gently.

Seungmin glanced over, eyes gentle. “I’m glad we’re here together.”

The night stretched before you — open, full of quiet possibilities.

No words were needed to say what simmered beneath the surface. The slow burn of something sweet, something patient, something that might someday be—but for now, it was enough to simply be here.

Together.

Under one sky.

tysm for ur req bbg i hope u liked :)

more skz content - reqs open!

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[kqutie]

EPIC: THE FAIR MAIDEN (not so platonic ver.)

CHAPTER ONE : THE SECOND MIRACLE

relations. : platonic various epic characters/reader -- platonic odysseus/reader ; polities/reader ; platonic eurylochus/reader ; platonic odysseus' crew/reader

chpt. sum. : you settle down for a game of animal crossing but faint and wake up in the EPIC: The Musical universe.

tags. : EPIC x ACNH ; reader is a comfort gamer ; female reader ; pure comfort ; reader helps ody get home ; happy ending for everyone! ; isekai and transmigration ; fix it fic ; animal crossing new horizons game mechanics ; characters know their future

length. : 5.5k

a/n : this is very unserious but is meant to be pure comfort. This is also pretty self-indulgent and is the result of my current obsession with EPIC: The Musical. I'm sad it's over but am happy to add to the fandom and make a place for myself in it (❀' ˘ '❀) I hope you darlings have a fun time reading!

navi. | series m.list

Pulling away from your phone, you sigh in content and stretch. EPIC: The Musical had become an obsession of yours and now that it was complete, you were delving into fanmade content; a mix of animatics, fanart and fanfiction. You had just finished reading a fanfic of the characters reacting to their future via the musical before it ever happens. The final chapter ends with all the characters returning to their original places in the universe, eager to avoid the mistakes they have just witnessed leading to their demise and Odysseus' change from man to monster.

Before they could be sent back, Odysseus took a moment to lovingly bid his beloved Penelope and only son, Telemachus goodbye while the gods pledge not to interfere with his journey home as long as he doesn't make the same mistakes. If they should encounter each other again, they will not be courteous and everything will unfold as it had been told to them in the musical.

The ending left you with a feeling of hope. In the universe of that fanfic, Odysseus will know what to do for a brighter future and you have full confidence in him fulfilling that – he is the warrior of the mind, after all.

It was still rather cold outside and leading into the evening, you were eager to bundle up in your giant beanbag chair with a blanket to play your favourite comfort game: Animal Crossing: New Horizons. First things first, however, you float into the kitchen to brew some tea and prepare a small plate of snacks. You have a lot of plans for your gaming session tonight. Your island was going under a huge revamp. For your new aesthetic, you're leaning into a cottage-core theme, something rustic with flourishing wildlife, trees, flowers and beaten paths. You were going to miss your fun, rural town island but you're very excited about the cosy vibes a countryside theme would bring. You're sure the change will only elevate the cosiness of the game.

It was going to be a huge undertaking but you've paid all your loans, gathered all the recipes, furniture and miscellaneous items, played the DLC, unlocked everything there is to unlock, collected all the fish, bugs and art to display in the museum, and you have an island full of villagers you adore. Revamping the island is the most exciting thing you can do now that you've played the game to the fullest. Hence why you were preparing your favourite snacks to have with your best blend of tea. Even though you've technically 'completed' the game, you're still eager to play it over and over again.

When you were finally curled up in your huge beanbag, wrapped in your fluffiest blanket with your tea and snacks on the side table, all you had left to do was put something on in the background; naturally, you chose the 'EPIC' soundtrack. You were obsessed.

Hopping into your island, you begin by erasing all your previous terraforming and rearranging your rivers and lakes. Everything you wanted to include had been planned out beforehand, all your new island decorative pieces were ready in your storage and you had your iPad with your mood board and notes showcasing your detailed plans at your side as well. Everything was going as planned. Your character was also wearing the perfect custom-designed dress for the occasion. It's a long, flowing white sundress with blue accents that you've paired with the cutest white platform heels. It always makes you giggle to see your character wearing the construction hat with such a cute dress — it adds so much charm.

As 'Polyphemus' begins to play, you shudder and press your lips into a thin line. This is the point where everything begins to change for Odysseus and your heart drops every time. However, you're reminded of the recent fanfic you read and hope the author takes the time to write a follow-up where the characters change their fates for the better. You adore them all so much; you want everyone to have their happy endings, especially Odysseus.

Focusing back on your island, you're finally happy with the layout and bring out your wooden shed to begin decorating, pulling things directly from your storage. However, where the storage menu should be showing, there's only a black screen.

"What's happening?" you ask yourself and press the buttons of your Nintendo switch randomly, confused at the suddenly unresponsive screen, "I thought this was fully charged...?" just as you begin to manoeuvre out of your curled-up seating, a sudden lightheadedness washes over you, making your eyes squint in confusion before you're finally pulled into the same darkness as your screen.

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Odysseus etches the image of his wife and son's faces into the forefront of his mind. They've been his anchor throughout the ten-year war with Troy and now that they've won and are on their way back home, he needs them more than anything —especially now that he knows the potential future ahead. Determined to avoid such anguish, Odysseus, commands his entire fleet to avoid following the birds despite their dwindling food stores. Having also witnessed their potential future, his men readily oblige.

It was comforting to see that his bond with the crew had not suffered in the aftermath of the blessing they were witnesses to. Rather, they were moved by his struggles and his vengeance against Posideon, honouring every member with six hundred strikes. Their captain had made a god bleed for them, they dare not betray such a man. The musical was a moving epic that gave them the exact map to avoid if they wanted to reach home safely.

"I'll make it home soon, I promise," Odysseus promised his loving wife, remembering the love and worry in her beautiful eyes. They were the same eyes he had fallen for, soaked in a familiar affection that only seemed to grow after witnessing their potential future. Nothing had changed. She still loved him and that was a huge comfort.

"I know... I love you," he replies with a searing kiss, desperate and messy after ten years apart. Pulling away, he looks fondly at his son who looks at him with admiration and love thinly veiled by worry. Looking at Telemachus felt like looking into a mirror, all except for the eyes he shared with his mother. His son had the same head of wild hair as his own, the same strong nose and straight brows as his own.

"I don't want you to go yet..." there were unshed tears in his son's quiet plea and Odysseus had to pull his ten-year-old son into a bone-crushing hug.

"I won't be long. I know what to do now. I'll get home soon," Odysseus promises into his son's crown and presses a firm kiss through his brown curls. Pulling away, he stares fondly into Telemachus' eyes, his beautiful son. Had he ever seen a boy so perfect before? Only his wife could create such beauty and perfection, "Take care of your mother while I'm away,"

Telemachus launches himself into his father's arms once again, burying his face into his strong shoulder, "Always, father,"

That final interaction has been replaying in Odysseus' mind ever since he returned to the boat he and his crew had suddenly been swept away from. It felt like so much time had passed but they were returned to the exact location and time they were first taken from. What an experience that had been. A blessing and a curse all at once. To bear witness to such a horrific future was harrowing but Odysseus would take it as a lesson learned. He won't risk the life of his best friends nor his crew ever again. They had survived the war against Troy, all 600 of them; they should be able to return home unharmed.

"Odysseus, my friend," Polites' familiar voice calls to him, bright and merry but with a heavy weight upon it. He understands the reason without needing to ask.

"Polities," they greet each other with a smile, "I know you're worried about our stores but we can survive without them until we find another island," Polities doesn't protest but nods in understanding. There's a pause that stretches on but not in discomfort. The two merely absorb the moment, comforted by the knowledge that they have avoided a massive turning point in their journey.

"We are here for you, my friend. All I wanted was to make that clear," Polites looks at the crew rowing at the paddles, keeping a leisurely pace. "We are loyal to you, our captain, who has led us to victory after ten years," Odysseus smiles and nods demurely at his best friend in silent appreciation, "that future has not happened yet, nor will it ever happen. I know that you will make sure of that."

"If the crew should ever act up, we will be there," Eurylachous steps up to the two of them with a somewhat hesitant air, his posture stiff. Events of the mutiny he led against his brother-in-law and friend had not been able to leave his mind ever since his first viewing. The tall second commander shudders to think of himself ever becoming the shrivelled-up, hungry, desperate and vengeful man who dared go against the captain he had first betrayed by opening the windbag. He was determined to avoid such a fate. What a sorry fool he had turned out to be. It was unbecoming and he had since been congested with guilt.

Odysseus and Eurylochus silently take in the other. Eurylachous with a boulder of guilt in the pit of his stomach as Odysseus wears an unreadable expression. They were supposed to be brothers, friends, comrades. The people they had become in that future were not them now, and it will never be them. Ctimene's face appears in his mind. They share a similar goal; to return home, to the wives they adore and had fought the grueling war for.

The tension is broken by Odysseus who brings his arms up to wrap around their shoulders and pull them close, "Thank you, my friends," All three share a smile and savour the bond they share. It was one they valued all the more now that they knew of their potential fates, and it was a bond they were unwilling to sever. If they could make it out of Troy victorious after ten years of conflict, they could easily protect each other and the friendship they share. "We will make it home. I swear it."

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

It had been several days and yet, there was no island on the horizon, meaning no food to hunt and feed his men. Odysseus' mind was reeling. This cannot be. Surely there would be some kind of island they could set anchor nearby. After taking the proper steps to avoid the worst future they could possibly think of, had Odysseus inadvertently condemned his men to a much more painful and agonising fate? Slowly, his men across all 12 ships had stopped rowing; they no longer had the energy. And the winds were close to nonexistent, providing no aide to his fleet's sails. Should they have docked at the Cyclops' island anyway but made a proper plan to steal the sheep instead? But that was too high of a risk, and everyone agreed that it was not worth it. What tragic luck was this? Was his crew doomed to never return home alive with him as their captain? Was the miracle they were blessed with a waste, now that he had given the wrong command?

A headache begins to hammer at his temples and Odysseus groans, the rumbling in his stomach and the painful ache rippling from it was unquenchable. The image of his hauntingly starved self and crew flashes in his mind. The world seemed determined to make him suffer, though there was no god to blame; he had given the command to avoid the Cyclops' island altogether — this was his fault.

"Captain!" Elpenor's— their youngest crew member —shout brings him out of his spiralling thoughts and directs his, as well as everyone's attention to a wooden structure that had suddenly appeared on their boat.

"What is that?"

"This wasn't in that musical,"

"How did it get on our ship?"

Looking around, it appears as though this was unique to their ship only as none of the other 11 ships were causing the same chaotic murmuring as the one Odysseus was aboard. Of course. It had to be the captain's ship this strange phenomenon occurs on.

"It has a door, should we look inside?" Polites comments, reaching for the handle only to be stopped by Odysseus.

"Let me open it," he turns to everyone else and loudly commands that they step back and prepare for what may come from opening the door. After taking a slow breath in and slowly releasing, Odysseus finally flings the door back and jumps to the side as a body falls in a heap at his feet.

The crowd circle the figure and are shocked to find a woman. She looks foreign with clothes they have never seen before. Where had she come from? Odysseus looks back at the slim wooden structure to find it already closed. Polites was the first to kneel beside her, cradling her head and gently urging the strange woman awake.

"Polites, step away from her!" Odysseus commands as Eurylochus unsheaths his large sword and prepares for a potential threat.

"She looks harmless, Captain,"

"That's no excuse to let your guard down," Odysseus snaps, flashes of another dark future playing in his mind. Had avoiding one grizzly fate led to another, darker one?

Polities gives him a judging look, "Open arms, Captain," his best friend wasn't getting the point. Although Odysseus was appreciative of his friend's boundless optimism, he wasn't going to take any chances.

"Just keep your distance, we don't know how much of a threat she is until she's awake. And if she is a threat, you'll be the first in her way of attack!" Odysseus' words don't even allow a single drop of doubt to taint Polites' determined stare.

"Wait look! She's waking up!" Eurylochus points his sword and gets into a familiar, battle stance, ready to pounce.

"Polities! Get. Back!"

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

Groaning, you turn away from the harsh lighting shining down on you and nuzzle into a comforting warmth.

"It's alright, Captain," a distant voice assures, the shouting that follows only pushing you into the comfortable warmth further, unknowing of the effect your innocent action has on the individual currently holding your head in his lap. "She means no harm," you then feel gentle pats over your head as the same kind voice urges you awake, "Hey there... can you wake up for us?"

Propelled to respect the kind and gentle stranger's request, you brave against the harsh sun and will your eyes open. Blinking rapidly, you adjust to the world around you as you're helped to a sitting position. You part your lips to ask what's going on but no sound comes out and your confusion is evident on your face.

"Hi there," a warm face greets you, pushing away the confusion and worry at your sudden muteness. Gazing at the man before you, you can't help but lean in with interest. His face feels familiar and you're drawn to the curiosity of it. He wears square glasses and adorns rich, chestnut curls that fall over a headband. His skin is sunkissed and a little sunken into his angular bone structure, which makes you worry slightly, he doesn't look healthy at all. He looks starved. "Uhh.." Polites smiles shyly as you reach up to cup his cheek with furrowed brows, "My name is Polites, can you tell us who you are, fair maiden?"

You finally register the murmurs surrounding you and mutely gasp when you realise you're surrounded by a circle of men, dressed in clothes typical of ancient Greek times. Everyone had the same sunken, unhealthy appearance as Polites. What was happening?

"My friend asked you a question. Answer him at once!" a cold metal touches the underside of your chin and you're forced to look up the body of a large sword and into the eyes of another recognisable figure. Eurylochus.

This can't be...

Shaking your head in disbelief and denial of the situation, you fall back into Polites' arms, who sternly waves away his dark-skinned friend. "Sheath your sword, friend, she means no harm..." Polites' arms circle you but he doesn't pull you further into him, leaving space for breath between your body and his own. It was more comforting than you anticipated as you press your face into his shoulder, trying to deny the reality you were in right now. "Captain, Odysseus, please,"

A sigh draws your attention away from Polites' shoulder and towards a broad-shouldered man with bronze skin, dark, wavy hair and an imposing air of confidence and charm about him. Distinguishing him from the rest, he wears a purple cloak that's secured with a gold pin on his shoulder; he's the captain. Odysseus. Are you in the EPIC: The Musical Universe? Is this a dream?

"...if she meant to do harm, she would have done so already. Sheath your sword, friend," Odysseus nods towards Eurylochus' sword.

"Yes Captain," the second in command readily complies.

Finally breathing in relief, you turn back to Polites and take his hand into both of yours to shake happily in greeting. The solid feeling on his hand makes this feel less and less like a dream, which makes you all the happier that they don't see you as a threat anymore. Otherwise, you would have become fish food. However, dream or reality, you were going to live this to the fullest as an EPIC fan. Your actions make the crowd release the tension in their shoulders. A handshake is a sign of peace and shows the absence of a weapon in one's hands; Polites was right to believe in your innocence.

"Haha! See, Captain?" Polites smiles at Odysseus, who shakes his head in disbelief but smiles regardless. Trust Polites, to make such quick friends, "May we know your name?" Polites asks after returning his attention to you. Frowning sadly, you shake your head and tap against your throat. You go as far as to part your lips and attempt to speak but nothing comes out. "Can you... can you not talk?"

You shake your head in confirmation and miss the sadness shared between the men surrounding you both. "How should we address you then?" Odysseus asks aloud and you shrug your shoulders. You don't really mind how they refer to you, so long as it wasn't hurtful.

"As long as it's of no offence to you, can we call you by any name?" Polites asks, to which you readily nod and he smiles before thinking deeply, "How about we refer to you as fair maiden? It's simple and you're the only maiden here so, everyone will easily know it's you," without complaints, you nod and hear a murmur of the nickname amongst the group make its rounds; the crew testing the name for themselves. It makes you smile shyly. Although you love the main characters, you always adored the background vocals of the crew and to hear their murmurings was a little flustering.

"How did you get here? Do you know?" Odysseus takes a knee beside you and you try not to look visibly awestruck by the closeness, "You fell out of that thing," the captain points towards a familiar, slim wooden shed. It looks exactly like the shed you failed to access the contents of before you blacked out on Animal Crossing. Curiously, you stand and make your way over to the shed, the crowd parting and staring with interest as you do so.

Opening the door, a familiar storage menu screen finally reveals itself to you. And it's full to the brim with all of your collected items from Animal Crossing. From the curious but unruffled looks in the crowd surrounding you, it doesn't seem as though they can see the storage screen and you immediately close the shed door to shake your head 'no' at Odysseus, who looks disappointed but has no choice but the accept the unsatisfactory news. However, his expression lightens when his eyes drift upwards.

The Captain turns to his men and sends them to their stations at the oars, "Follow those birds, no matter how far they may lead us, it will be towards land. We have another mouth to feed so full speed ahead!" his words make your eyes widen and rush forward with your arms outstretched, waving your hands side to side and shaking your head — a clear expression against his command. In the distance, you can tell that Odysseus' fleet is still composed of its full 12 ships so he will be leading them to Polyphemus' island, where everything will take a turn for the worst and you don't think you're capable of going through such horrors first hand.

Odysseus narrows his eyes at you, "What do you mean 'no'?" he pauses for thought, "...do you know about the Cyclops too?" you're shocked at his words. How could he know about the Cyclops if he has yet to set foot on the island? And if he's already done so, why was Polites still alive?

You nod slowly. You do know about the Cyclops...

"We're long past the Cyclops' island, days past it, in fact," he looks at you with caution, "...how do you know about the Cyclops?" Naturally, being unable to speak, you can't explain your circumstances articulately but that was no longer satisfactory for the captain. Odysseus looks you up and down, taking in the unusual attire clothing you. It doesn't look like any garments he has ever seen before. It's a beautiful garment he would love to see on his wife but its unfamiliar style raises his suspicions, "What are you doing here? Are you another test from the gods? They promised not to interfere with my journey home unless I make the same mistakes as in that musical's future!" your eyes widen at his words and you make the slow realisation that you're not only in the universe of EPIC but specifically in the aftermath of the reaction fanfic you had just finished reading. You remember hoping the author would continue with a series that has the characters taking active steps to avoid their tragic fates.

The hostility being raised against you, from the Captain, no less, didn't bode well, however, so you rush back to your shed. You don't know why you have your animal crossing storage shed but you were going to use it. It may be your only way of expressing your peacefulness without a voice.

Opening the storage once more, you search through the categorised panels and select a basket of bread with your finger. The instant it's selected, the basket of freshly baked bread appears in your arms and you turn to Odysseus with a smile, outstretching the offering as a token of your peaceful intentions.

Odysseus stares at your offering of bread with a dropped jaw, similar to the one Eurylochus was displaying. How could you have been able to store freshly baked bread in such an innocuous structure? It was Polites who jumped forward with a shout of glee, "Fresh bread! My friends, look!" His words draw the attention of the crew from where they're actively rowing the oars. The sight of food makes them stop and slowly approach with grumbling stomachs, eyes wide and mouths watering. The closer they get, the more potent the smell of fresh bread becomes and there's a chorus of grumbling stomachs surrounding you. "Is this for us?" Polites looks at you with a smile that widens when you nod in affirmation.

"Wait! You take the first bite," Eurylochus insists, cautious after witnessing their encounter with Circe. The rest of the crew heed his words and reel back as if subjected to an electric shock. They had almost forgotten the cautionary tale of the musical. Everyone now watches you with judging eyes. Taking no offence, you select a small bun and bite into it with a grin. Everyone around you watches with bated breath but cheers when you swallow and there are no negative side effects. Food! Finally!

"Thank you," Polites nods at you with a grateful smile before distributing the basket to the crew members. Behind him, Odysseus is left speechless but soon meets your eyes with a similarly grateful expression. He and Eurylochous nod in thanks, which you bow in return to. The tension between you had fully evaporated. The crew do their best to evenly ration out the bread but a singular basket won't be enough so you return to your storage shed and bring out more baskets of bread that you have saved up, grateful that cooking recipes was one of your favourite things to do on the game.

"You have more food?" Odysseus voices beside you, suddenly very close and you nod with a bright smile, handing him another basket of fresh, warm bread. It appears as though, no matter how long it's been since you've cooked the recipe, it comes out fresh and warm. You have five baskets of fresh bread circulating amongst the crew now and see if other recipes also come out freshly cooked. With a silent hum, you select the minestrone soup and out comes a deep ceramic bowl with hot, appetising soup filling it to the brim. Like in the game, the portion looks enormous in your hands and looks capable of feeding more than one person. This will go perfectly with the bread and you leave your shed to hand the bowl of soup to a small circle of men sharing a bread basket. They're in awe of your offering and thank you endlessly, eagerly dipping their bread into the soup and savouring the delicious taste of food after days without. With a wide smile, you turn around and reach for Polites, who happily follows you back to your shed to help distribute more bowls of soup.

"How does that thing work?" Eurylochus reaches out to the shed once all the food has been distributed but you quickly block his way and shake your head. Suddenly tense, Eurylochus nods and firmly turns away, his hand safely back at his side, "Understood..." This wasn't a windbag but he wasn't going to make the same, silly mistake as he did in that musical. Never. He's just happy the crew and himself finally have some food to eat, the birds and a distant island without a Cyclops long forgotten.

"Thank you for your help," Odysseus walks up to you with a charming grin that you happily return, a warmth blooming in your chest at being able to help one of your favourite characters get home. Your easygoing, happy nature is very reminiscent of Polites and the Captain finds himself an easy victim to your warm and comforting presence, willing to follow your optimistic nature. Looking back at his smiling, feasting crew, he breathes a sigh of relief and bites into a round loaf he managed to take for himself as the bread baskets made their rounds. "Do you happen to have more food?" he suddenly asks, nervous of your response. "I have 550 more men to feed across eleven other boats," he tilts his head towards the rest of his fleet, closely following his ship. Odysseus was ashamed to ask so much from one person but felt an immense feeling of relief when he turned to see your kind smile and warm gaze. It's as if you were saying 'Of course, I do', eager to offer your help.

"You have more food, fair maiden?" Polites cheers, eagerly volunteering to help escort you onto the other ships for a delivery of food.

You shake your head but hold up a finger, wordlessly asking them to wait patiently. The 50 men of this boat had eaten all of the bread and soup you had stored so you had to make more from the crops and ingredients you had stored. All you needed to do was bring out your small kitchenette. Hopefully, game mechanics still apply when cooking and you'll have enough food to feed the 550 hungry men left of Odysseus' fleet. Returning to your storage, you easily bring out your kitchenette and follow the recipe for making more bread baskets and minestrone soup. It was easy enough, especially after realising that all you needed to access your personal storage without the shed was to think of it and it would readily appear for your eyes only.

While you were hard at work making more bread baskets and soup, you urged Polites, Eurylochus and Odysseus to sit down and eat calmly. They had been watching you the entire time, jaws dropped in awe and eyes gleaming with admiration, their hearts beating with hope and almost brought to tears at being given yet another miracle. They were going to make it home after all!

It took some time to make the first few baskets and soups for about five ships but, by that time the crew had already devoured their share and all eyes were back on you. Feeling shy, you convince them to focus their attention elsewhere by offering dessert via oranges. From living in the modern world, you know all about scurvy so oranges are the perfect fruit to offer; you make a mental note of bringing some oranges with you to the other ships too. The crew were delighted and eagerly devoured the abnormally large oranges you handed them. They were the perfect sweetness and were so juicy, that many who finished their share were left licking the juice from their fingers. They feel thoroughly fed, and, although it was a mere helping of bread, soup and orange, it felt like a feast fit for a king. Odysseus attested to that sentiment.

"Is she a descendant of the Goddess of Harvest? The Goddess Demeter?"

"She must be,"

"No, she was sent to us as a divine intervention. She must have been sent by Hermes."

"But look at the orange she gave us, it's the biggest, most delicious and perfect orange I have ever seen. She must be a descendant of the God of orchards and fruit, Dionysus."

"We are lucky to have her, she must have been sent by the Goddess Tyche of luck."

Many of the crew members begin to speculate your origins, with some raising their voices above the others, their words coming out more clearly. But you were none of those things. You can't even begin to explain how you got here and it isn't as though you could even attempt to voice any kind of explanation. It's quite flattering that they think so highly of you— enough to relate you to the gods and goddesses —but if any good person was capable of offering help then they would do so without regard for what it may cost them. And that was what you were doing. You were only doing what any good person would do. It's just your luck that you happen to have the same skills and itinerary as your ACNH character. The only unfortunate thing is that you were made mute because of it too –at least most seem to understand what you want to say by paying attention to your actions and movements, much like your villagers.

To distract from their high-praising musings, however, you get busy cooking enough food for the 550 other men left to feed, quickly filling up your personal storage after you had emptied it of the decorative pieces you originally wanted to dot around your revamped island. Once finally done, you turn to Odysseus and nod. The captain smiles widely, brushes away the orange juice from his chin and calls for a flag to be raised, signalling for the rest of his fleet to fall in line with his so that you could be escorted safely to deliver food.

"Polites and Eurylochus will escort you. They will also explain your presence to the rest of my men." Odysseus explains as you nod along and gently express that your shed doesn't need to be brought with you. Again, Eurylochus nods and backs away, calling for two men to guard the shed while they make the food delivery. In the distance, you watch the boats easily line up and a wooden plank is provided to bridge the distance between two ships. Just as you are being led away by Polites. Odysseus calls out to you, "Fair maiden," he bows at the waist, the rest of the crew following close after, bowing deeply and sincerely, "Thank you,"

When the crew and Odysseus finally look up, they are greeted by your bright, close-eyed smile and the faint outline of pink and yellow flowers in the air surrounding your face. You're a beauty, a kind embodiment of mercy bestowed upon them in their hour of need and they dare not take you for granted.

navi. | series m.list

next | two : the favourable circumstance

a/n : I hope you darlings enjoyed the read! I'm leaving this small passion project open to continuation as I do have more plans for it (Perimedes and Elpenor will make an appearance in the next chapter, for sure!) but nothing is set for how many chapters that would entail. This series will probably be pretty short but will definitely end happily ٩(^ᗜ^ )و '-

Please feel free to tell me your thoughts and what you may want to see happen. Who knows, I might be inspired to include your own daydreams ヾ(｡✪ω✪｡)ｼ

[inlovewithfionaapple]

quite literally anything w/ spencer agnew!! maybe like a friends to lovers kinda vibe? or whatever you feel inspired by im not picky! thanks!!!!

just friends...right?

warnings: fluff, friends/co workers to lovers

wc: 754

an: i've been meaning to write something for him, but i haven't figured out what to write! thank you!! hope you like it!

smosh hq was always buzzing — filled with choatic energy, constant filming, half-finished cold brews, and in the midst of it all was spencer agnew, twirling a nerf ball around his fingers as he waited for the next sketch shoot to start.

"hey, dude, you ready?" y/n stood in the doorway to the green room, a smile playing at her mouth. she wore a smosh crew hoodie she would steal from wardrobe, sleeves pushed up, a pen tucked behind her ear.

spencer grinned — that easy, toothy grin he had — and tossed the ball up lazily.

 "born ready," he said, catching it one-handed.

y/n rolled her eyes dramatically. "yeah, you were absolutely ready just then, fully memorizing your lines. by throwing a foam ball at the ceiling."

he shrugged. "hey, it's called multitasking. brain exercise."

she snorted. it was so easy with spencer — like breathing. they'd started at smosh around the same time, both a little lost, a little wide-eyed, clinging to each other as the weirdness and brilliance of the place swallowed them up. at first it had been late-night editing sessions, swapping bad jokes, surviving impossible deadlines. then came the inside jokes, the way they’d wordlessly team up during improv games, the way spencer could always, always make her laugh — even when she was stressed, tired, or just over it.

and somewhere along the way... something shifted.

not that she was admitting it.

not when he was still spencer, still the guy who wore mismatched socks and made dad jokes and sometimes looked at her for a second too long 

"you’re spacing out," spencer teased, walking over and bumping his shoulder into hers. "nervous? you should be. i'm about to absolutely crush this sketch."

"ha, sure you are," y/n said, nudging him back. she smiled, but there was a funny, warm pressure building in her chest — the kind that had been creeping up more and more lately whenever he stood too close, laughed too loud, or said her name like it meant something.

maybe it did mean something.

maybe she was in way more trouble than she thought.

ater that day, after a chaotic filming session involving fake blood, a wig that wouldn't stay on, and ian corpsing so hard they had to reset six times, y/n collapsed onto the worn couch in the lounge, groaning dramatically.

"i don't think my brain works anymore," she announced to no one in particular.

spencer dropped down beside her, flopping his head back dramatically. "same. it's just soup up there now. good soup."

"bad soup," y/n corrected him. "chunky, cursed soup."

he laughed, and the sound of it wrapped around her like a hug she didn’t know she needed.

for a moment, they just sat there — the late afternoon light streaming through the cracked blinds, the murmur of the rest of the team still packing up equipment.

 it should have been easy. comfortable. it always was.

but now y/n could feel every inch of space between them.

 and every inch that wasn’t.

"hey," spencer said, voice softer than usual. he shifted to look at her properly. "you doing okay?"

she blinked, thrown by the seriousness in his tone.

 "yeah, just tired. long day."

he studied her for a second — really looked at her, like he was trying to read something between the lines.

 "you know you can tell me if it's more than that, right?"

her throat tightened.

 god, he was so good.

 too good.

"i'm fine," she said, forcing a smile. "promise."

spencer hesitated, then nodded. but he didn’t look convinced.

and when his hand brushed lightly against hers, whether on purpose or by accident, y/n didn’t move away.

she couldn't.

something electric zipped up her arm — stupid, cliché, heart-racing electricity — and she hated how much she liked it.

or maybe she didn’t hate it at all.

that night, y/n found herself staring at her phone long after she should've been asleep.

a new text from spencer blinked up at her:

[spencer]

 i had fun today.

 even tho you almost got me killed w the fake blood slip lol

 you're my favorite person to film with

 just thought you should know 💙

the little blue heart almost wrecked her.

y/n buried her face in her pillow and screamed into it softly.

because somewhere deep down, a truth she'd been avoiding finally crashed into her.

she didn’t just like spencer.

she was in love with him.

and now she had no idea what to do about it.