#USB Notebook Lights

[heliosunny]

Hihi....I'm really in love with your Yandere Phainon fanfics, so I wanted more....I don't really care whatever it is as long as it's in high school au🙏🙏

CTRL U

Yandere!Phainon x Reader

The school tech lab was always quiet during lunch break. While others filled the courtyard and cafeteria with chatter and energy, you found solace in the rhythmic clack of your keyboard and the soft humming of a monitor. You had taken over the corner desk near the window, your own little bubble away from the chaotic social jungle of high school.

Your fingers flew over the keys, eyes darting across lines of code. The pixelated spaceship on your screen moved up, paused, then exploded with a dramatic “BOOM!” animation. You smiled a little, it was just a simple 2D space shooter, but you were proud of it. Debugging the collision algorithm had taken two days.

Outside the lab, you heard distant voices echoing down the hall.

“Dude, Phainon! You coming to the court or what?” “Later, maybe! I need to drop by the lab first.”

Phainon. Popular, charming, and surrounded by friends like gravity pulling planets. You’d only ever interacted with him during that one disastrous group project in sophomore year. You didn’t speak much. He did all the talking.

The door creaked open. Your screen still glowed with the tiny spaceship hovering in space.

“Yo, is someone in?”

You whipped your head up and saw him. He had one headphone in, his school tie loosened, hair a little messy.

He looked around, then spotted you.

“Hey, didn’t think anyone would be in here.”

“...Hi.”

He tilted his head toward your screen. “Wait, is that a game?”

You quickly moved the mouse to close the window, but not fast enough.

“Whoa, don’t shut it down!”

“It’s still buggy.” you mumbled, minimizing the program and locking your screen.

He leaned in, eyes lighting up.

“Wait, you made that? That’s sick.” He turned to look at you. “You’re seriously talented.”

You avoided his gaze, focusing instead on unplugging your USB drive.

“It’s just a hobby…”

Phainon chuckled. “‘Just a hobby’? You’ve got a whole game running. That’s way cooler than anything I’ve done today.”

This wasn’t how your quiet lunch break was supposed to go.

You stood up quickly, slinging your backpack over your shoulder, trying to gather your things.

“I need to go.”

“Oh. Wait, did I say something wrong?”

“No!” you said too fast, stepping back toward the door. “I just... have other stuff.”

He watched you retreat, a confused expression softening his features. Then he smiled again, tilting his head slightly.

“Hey, what’s your game called?” he called out as you reached the door.

“…It doesn’t have a name yet.”

He grinned.

“Let me know when it does.”

You tried to return to normal after that day in the lab.

No more coding during lunch breaks.

No more late stays in the tech room.

But Phainon didn’t understand and keep showing up everywhere you go.

“Hey! Game Dev!” he called out from across the school courtyard one afternoon, jogging to catch up with you.

You pretended not to hear him and quickened your pace.

He caught up anyway, effortlessly matching your stride. “You never told me more about the game.”

“I’m busy.”

“That’s cool. I can wait.”

You stopped in front of your classroom. “Don’t you have a fan club or a game to get back to?”

Phainon just gave you that stupid, easy grin. “Maybe. But I kinda want to see what happens next in your game.”

You didn’t respond. Just walked in, ignoring the snickers from a nearby group of girls.

It wasn’t just one or two people talking. You’d heard whispers in the hallways.

“Why’s he talking to them?” “They probably faked the whole ‘coding’ thing just to get attention.” “Didn’t they get rejected by Phainon or something?” “Creepy how they’re always alone, right?”

At first, it didn’t bother you. You were used to being left out.

But that changed when you stayed late one afternoon to grab your notebook and accidentally overheard something.

“Okay, but what if we just hire some expert to.. idk, download a virus on their computer or something?” “Ooh, or leak their browsing history or whatever. Even if it’s fake, no one’ll care.” “Right? Who’s gonna believe someone like that anyway?”

You backed away slowly.

You’d had enough.

That night, you didn’t sleep. Instead, you slipped on your headphones, pulled up a few proxies, and found the backdoor in their school Wi-Fi habits.

In two hours, you’d broken into their cloud storage and group chat backups. In four, you’d carefully rearranged screenshots, spliced audio files, and created just enough drama to make it seem like they were all talking behind each other’s backs.

You didn’t even upload them yourself. Just scheduled a timed drop via a burner account.

By Monday, the group was in ruins.

And you, finally, had silence.

Until Phainon found you again. This time, at the bike racks after school.

“Hey.”

You glanced up. “What.”

He held up a hand in surrender. “Not here to bug you about the game.”

You turned away. “Then leave.”

He didn’t.

“They deserved it, huh?”

He took a step closer. “You’re good. Real good. That’s not amateur stuff.”

You looked at him sharply. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You didn’t deserve what they were doing. But...” He hesitated. “Just... don’t lose yourself in it, alright?”

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

“Next time someone comes after you… maybe let me know first.”

He turned and walked away, hands in his pockets, not looking back.

You never felt safe after the drop. Sure, no one came at you again, not publicly. But silence didn’t mean safety. Silence could be a trap.

And Phainon, despite everything, made you uneasy.

Why? Why was he so calm? Why did he know what you’d done?

That night, your fingers hovered over the keys. Your curiosity itched too loud to ignore.

You slipped past a few weak firewalls and into his cloud activity.

“...wait.”

The path you followed suddenly folded in on itself.

And you’d taken it.

You burned the scripts, cleaned the logs, wiped the trace tools—anything that might be tied to you. Anything he could use against you.

And when it was over, you sat in the dark for a long time. Cold sweat down your back.

The next day, he said nothing.

You watched him across the quad, laughing with his friends, sleeves rolled up, the same lopsided smile like he hadn’t laid a trap for you.

Maybe you were overthinking it.

So you did something stupid.

You pulled an old CD-R out of your drawer, labeled it in your tight, scratchy handwriting: [ TEST BUILD v2.6 — SPACEWAR ]

And the next morning, you caught him by the lockers.

“…Here,” you muttered, holding it out. “The game. Just a standalone version. I just thought you might want to test it.”

“You’re giving me the first build?”

“It’s just a test. You don’t—”

“I’m gonna play it tonight” he said. “I’m finishing it. No way I’m sleeping until I beat it.”

“It’s literally half-coded and full of bugs.”

“So am I,” he smirked. “Perfect match.”

You didn’t expect him to go that far.

Next morning, he walked into class with dark shadows under his eyes, hair messier than usual, hoodie half-zipped over his uniform.

“Hey,” he grinned. “I beat it. Twice.”

“Wait... You stayed up?”

“You said test it. I tested the hell out of it.” He nudged your arm. “Seriously, it’s awesome.”

You stared at him. Then laughed. You couldn’t help it. “You idiot. You could’ve just given me a bug report.”

“Nah. That’d be boring.”

You shook your head and turned away to hide your smile.

Later that night, at home, you sat down at your desk. Curiosity beat out caution.

You slid the same disc into your computer. It whirred softly.

[ SPACEWAR ] — Test Build v2.6

You clicked Start Game.

The opening sequence played—then flickered.

The background glitched. The pixels warped, briefly forming words in a distorted typeface:

"Hello, Player One."

Then the game resumed normally.

You yanked the disc out. Looked at the underside.

A low beep from your laptop made you jump.

You flipped the screen—the camera light was on.

For half a second. Then it shut off.

You stared at the reflection of yourself in the screen. And realized:

He gave you his disk.

You didn’t sleep that night.

The glowing reflection of “Hello, Player One” burned behind your eyelids every time you blinked. You’d covered the webcam, shut the laptop, and unplugged everything. But it wasn’t just paranoia this time—Phainon had done something, and you needed to find out why.

So the next morning, you waited outside the gym, watching him laugh with his usual crowd. He noticed you immediately, his smile slipped, and he walked over.

“You okay?”

“We need to talk. Alone.”

Phainon blinked. But he nodded.

You sat in the empty room, across from him at a table where morning light filtered through the blinds.

He leaned forward slightly. “So...?”

You looked him dead in the eye. “Why did you do it?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”

You pulled the disc from your bag and placed it on the table. “Why?”

Phainon leaned back, quiet for a moment. Then:

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

You frowned. “What?”

“Two years ago. National Coding Competition. You made that AI that learned player patterns in real time. I was in the same bracket—you crushed everyone.”

“You were there?”

He nodded. “You were the best person in the room. I admired you. Then you disappeared. I always wondered why.” He paused. “When I saw you here, I thought—maybe I could get to know you.”

“So you thought breaking into my computer was your idea of caring?”

He flinched slightly, guilt flickering behind his eyes.

“You invaded my privacy. You used something I made against me.” Your voice shook. “Don’t twist this into something noble.”

He sighed. “I just wanted to understand you. You’re brilliant, but you shut everyone out. I thought maybe if I got closer—”

“—by spying on me?”

There was a long silence.

“Didn’t you do the same? To those girls?”

You were speechless.

“I’m not saying they didn’t deserve it. But you didn’t talk to anyone. You handled it alone.”

That stung.

Your hands clenched under the table. “So now you’re saying we’re the same?”

He shook his head. “No. I’m saying we both did things we regret. Doesn’t mean I’m proud of it.” He looked at you. “I’m sorry. For crossing the line.”

“Stay out of my stuff.”

And you walked out.

The rest of the day, you ignored him. He didn’t try to talk to you. Not even once.

But the silence wasn't peace. It was pressure, thick and heavy. You couldn’t focus.

By lunch, you'd pulled up three transfer applications on your phone, but none of them felt like the right move. Running didn’t solve the problem, it just meant you’d keep running.

So instead, you started thinking differently.

If Phainon wanted to get close to you? Fine.

You’d make him hate it.

You listed ridiculous stuff maybe you could use against him:

Step 1: Code like a cryptid. Talk only in binary. Step 2: Constantly mention obscure operating systems and laugh when he doesn’t get it. Step 3: Bring spreadsheets of cat behavior patterns and pretend they’re “emotional simulations.” Step 4: Add him to a fake group project and send 3am emails titled “urgent patch notes.”

Your plan was almost working.

The constant 3 a.m. “patch note” emails. The random references to deprecated programming languages.

It should’ve been enough.

But he always came back.

You were exhausted.

So you went back to Plan Move Away. You re-opened the school transfer forms, actually filled out your personal statement, and left the tab open just in case.

And then, out of nowhere, Kaito happened.

You met him during a school lab module. He wore round glasses, always had cat-hair on his hoodie, and genuinely laughed at your dry jokes. Even better? He knew how to debug. You both ended up fixing an old RPGMaker horror build for fun and spent lunch breaks balancing variables and laughing over cursed enemy sprites.

He wasn’t dramatic. He didn’t hack your life. He was just... easy.

Which was why Phainon noticed right away.

He cornered you by the vending machines after school.

“So... That new guy.”

“His name is Kaito.”

“Cool... But I thought we were working on your game.”

You crossed your arms. “We were. Then you installed spyware on my hard drive.”

“I apologized for that.”

You didn’t budge.

“So you replaced me?”

“I didn’t replace anyone. Kaito’s just someone I can work with without needing to run background checks.”

He scowled. “So you don’t trust me.”

“Can you blame me?”

Phainon looked at you, searching for something. Then he took a step closer.

“Okay. Fine. Maybe I messed up. Maybe I made it weird. But I thought we were building something—together. I didn’t realize you’d hand the controller to some new guy and bench me.”

“Everyone deserves to code.”

That struck a nerve.

“Right.” His voice dropped. “But not everyone gets you.”

This was personal.

Which made it more complicated when, the next day, you came home, turned on your PC and noticed a new folder on your desktop.

“GAME_PATCHED_FINAL_no_KAITO”

And a note:

“If you're gonna replace me, you better fix the recursion loop. Or let me help.”

You stared at the screen, heat crawling up your neck.

You didn’t know if you were furious or impressed.

You had your code. You had your own project. You had Kaito now.

You went on without him.

You stripped your old game build clean, rewrote the framework, even changed the name. Burned all the folders that had anything labeled “v2.6” or “player_one.” You started fresh.

And Phainon? He kept his distance. At least physically.

Then came the mailbox.

It was a regular Thursday when you got home. You were stepping out of your shoes when your mom called from the kitchen:

“There’s something in the mailbox for you.”

You blinked. “Mail? As in—physical?”

“Yeah. Like the old days.” She chuckled. “Looks like a CD.”

You grabbed it, peeling back the envelope carefully.

Plain. No return address. Just one thing written in black marker on the CD’s surface:

“BOOT ME :)”

You rolled your eyes. “Really?”

Of course it was from him. The handwriting was unmistakably chaotic.

You weren’t stupid. You weren’t going to test this thing on your personal machine. Not after last time.

So you waited.

The next day during free lab hour, you sat down at one of the school’s clunky public PCs. You slipped on the headphones just in case it played audio.

The CD slid in.

[ Loading... Welcome Back, Player One ]

A single line of code glowing on a black screen:

function whyYouLeft { return “?”; }

Then the screen glitched again—and a video window opened.

It wasn’t anything dramatic. Just a shaky webcam video of Phainon in his messy room, sitting on the floor cross-legged.

“Okay. So, if you’re watching this… then I guess I broke like, ten privacy boundaries again. But I swear—this time, no access to your camera. Just... this.”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish.

“I don’t know why you pulled away. But I want to understand.” He looked at the disc. “I know I messed up. And maybe that scares you. Maybe you think people only get close to you because of your talent. Maybe you hate how I made it all messy.”

He looked up at the camera, eyes sincere.

“But it wasn’t about your code. Or the game. I wanted to know you. The person behind all that.”

He paused, then added quietly: “I miss being your Player Two.”

The screen turned black again.

You stared at the screen. The headphones still buzzed faintly in your ears with the silence that followed.

You didn’t eject the CD.

You just… sat there.

----

The hallway echoed with the soft shuffle of bags and the clatter of desks being dragged back into place. Students were peeling off one by one, some still laughing, some too tired to care. The bell had rung fifteen minutes ago, school was out, but you stayed.

Until it was just two people left in the room: You and Phainon.

He was halfway through zipping up his bag when he noticed you approaching.

He blinked, clearly surprised. “…Hey.”

“I watched the CD.”

Phainon straightened, instantly alert. “Yeah?”

“It was unnecessary.” you said dryly. Then paused. “But… I get it.”

He opened his mouth, maybe to defend himself, maybe to apologize again, but you raised a hand before he could.

“I’m not starting over with you. I’m continuing, with conditions.”

“You can join the project again,” you said firmly, “if you promise to stop doing stuff behind my back. Everything stays aboveboard.”

You added “Also, if we’re working together, you have to be civil with Kaito.”

“Kaito?” he repeated.

You nodded. “He’s part of this now. Whether you like it or not. I’m not removing him just because it makes you uncomfortable.”

“You want me to team up with someone who’s clearly trying to be me?”

“He’s not trying to be you.”

Phainon didn’t say anything for a moment. His fingers curled slightly around the strap of his bag.

“So that’s the deal?” he asked quietly. “Let you keep your new friend, and I get supervised access to your game like it’s a daycare pass?”

You shrugged. “If it bothers you that much, you don’t have to join.”

There was a tense silence between you.

“Fine,” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “If that’s what it takes.”

You both left the room.

But the minute he walked into the golden hour light outside the school building, Phainon’s smile twisted into something else.

He had no intention of sharing.

Kaito was an obstacle. And Phainon knew exactly how to handle obstacles.

He didn’t need to hack anyone this time. Not when he had reputation.

He was a magnet in the school ecosystem - student rep, the guy everyone knew, the guy everyone liked. Popularity was a language, and Phainon was fluent.

He spoke to people in Kaito’s other classes. Casually dropped things like:

“You know that Kaito guy? Little… intense, right?”

Or:

“Hey, just a heads-up. He’s been engaging with some guys out of school these days. Kinda weird, don’t you think?”

Rumors ran faster than servers during a DDOS attack.

You didn’t notice it right away.

But the others started acting cold toward him. Like he was radioactive.

“Hey… did I do something? People’ve been acting weird.”

You frowned. “Weird how?”

Kaito hesitated. “I dunno. Just… off. Like they know something I don’t.”

Phainon acted perfectly normal the next day.

He brought snacks. He complimented your new UI layout. He laughed at your deadpan jokes.

Phainon never played fair.

It started with a casual invite. One that looked harmless on the surface.

Phainon leaned over your desk during your group’s usual project hour. “Hey,” he said. “There’s a match this weekend—finals. I’m playing.” Then he added, “You and Kaito should come. Y’know. Team bonding. Off-screen chemistry.”

Kaito, surprisingly, looked excited. “I’ve never been to one of your matches. Might be fun.”

For once, Phainon was asking.

So you said yes.

But plans changed.

Your part-time shift at the local computer shop ran long, someone brought in a corrupted hard drive and left in tears, and by the time you were done running diagnostics and fixing their system, the sun had already dipped behind the horizon.

You texted Kai.

[Sorry. Can’t make it. Tell me how it goes later.]

No reply.

You didn’t hear from him until the next morning.

Your phone buzzed with a single message:

From unknown number: “Your friend’s at City Medical. You should come.”

You nearly dropped your phone.

Kaito lay in the bed, right arm in a sling, a thin cut on his brow, bruises trailing the side of his cheek. His glasses sat on the tray next to him, bent out of shape. He was asleep when you walked in.

Phainon was sitting beside the bed.

He glanced up when you entered.

“Hey.” He stood slowly, brushing imaginary dust off his sleeves. “Didn’t expect you so early.”

“What happened?”

“It was an accident. During the second half, he tripped—took a bad fall.”

You stared at him. “He doesn’t even run. Why was he even on the field?”

“He got a little too excited. Honestly, I tried to wave him back.” He looked at the bed again. “Poor guy. Probably got caught up in the moment.”

But… the whispers had already started at school. You heard them in the hallways, snippets like:

“I heard that nerd wasn’t watching the game rules.” “Why was he even on the field?” “Guess he wanted attention.”

It was already being spun. And no one could prove it otherwise.

You sat quietly in the chair by Kaito’s side once Phainon left. Your eyes didn’t leave the steady rise and fall of his chest.

With Kaito out of the picture, it was just you and Phainon again. He was standing behind your chair, one hand resting on the backrest while he leaned over to comment on your code.

He would speak low near your ear like the two of you shared something secret. Sometimes his hand would linger on your shoulder, a little longer than it should.

And you just kept coding.

You didn’t want to say it out loud, but ever since the hospital visit, your guard hadn’t dropped once.

Every time Phainon brought snacks, or coffee, or even just his charming laugh, there was something clawing at the back of your head.

The others in school weren’t subtle either. You noticed the sideways glances. The hushed tones in the hallway. Students whispering by the lockers, pretending not to look your way.

Some even snickered outright when you walked into the lab with Phainon beside you, your laptops under your arms like a pair of matching uniforms.

“Guess if you can’t compete, just date the star instead.”

Phainon noticed. Of course he did.

He smirked as he leaned in and whispered: “Let them talk. We’re the ones doing something real.”

You didn’t reply. You just sat down and turned on your machine.

And when you got focused, really focused, you forgot everything else. You skipped lunch. You skipped breaks.

That’s when Phainon would step in again.

You hadn’t even noticed him peel open a rice ball wrapper until he tapped your chin gently with it.

��Eat.” he said simply.

“What?”

“You haven’t touched a single thing since third period. Just chew.”

He held it closer to your lips—half a challenge, half a joke.

You frowned slightly, but opened your mouth. He fed it to you.

---

"Why are they always together now? It’s getting annoying."

"Seriously. Ever since that freak started hanging out with Phainon, he’s been acting weird. Ignoring us."

"They practically live in the lab. It’s pathetic. Clingy."

"Didn’t Kai or whatever his name is end up in the hospital too? You think it’s a coincidence?"

"Well… maybe we should remind them where their place is."

Your bag was heavy on your shoulder. You were heading to the lab as usual, maybe Phainon would be there already, or maybe not. You didn’t text him today.

You were halfway down the stairs when it happened.

A slight nudge.

There was a moment—a single heartbeat—when your brain recognized the danger.

Then everything went black.

[Hospital Room – Present]

You woke to pain pressing behind your eyes and an icy pressure on your wrist.

“Hey.. hey. You’re awake?”

You blinked through the blurriness. Phainon’s face came into view, shadowed by worry and sleeplessness.

“Don’t move too fast. You hit your head—really hard.”

Your throat felt dry. You tried to speak but failed. He immediately reached for the straw in a plastic cup and held it to your lips.

You let the water coat your throat. Your mom entered then, her voice choked with relief as she kissed your forehead and muttered prayers under her breath. Behind her, your sibling waved awkwardly with puffy eyes.

Your body still ached. But in your stillness, your mind drifted.

[Seven Years Ago]

You stood outside the regional coding challenge arena, holding your little cardboard certificate for First Prize in your hand. The others from your school were celebrating inside, but you stepped out for air.

That’s when you heard it.

Sniffling. The sound of someone trying really hard not to cry.

You followed the noise and found him, curled behind the bushes next to the school’s HVAC system, arms wrapped around his knees. He was kicking at a tangle of wires and muttering under his breath.

His screen had crashed halfway through the demo. His mom, who was in the audience, had made that face. Not angry—disappointed.

“Leave me alone” he snapped when he noticed you.

You stood there silently and pulled out a juice box from your bag. Pushed it toward him.

He glared at it, then you. “I lost.”

You shrugged. “Your code was complex, though. That’s impressive for our age.”

He finally took the juice box. Sipped it quietly.

You sat beside him, ignoring the grass stains and bugs. “I could help. If you want. You’ll get better.”

He stared at you, like trying to see through your intentions.

“…Why?”

“Because you were good. And no one helped me when I started either. So I guess I just want to promise it won’t always suck.”

You smiled. “Wanna be friends?”

He nodded.

You forgot that moment. Years passed. But Phainon never did.

Because in that moment, you were the first person who saw value in him.

And he kept that memory like a loaded save file.

Waiting to be opened again.

[Hospital Room – Present]

You stirred awake.

Night had fallen.

Phainon hadn’t left. His hand was still holding yours, as if letting go would make you disappear.

You stared at the ceiling. “Did you know?”

He looked up.

“About the stairwell?” you clarified.

His jaw tensed. “…Yes.”

You didn’t respond.

He continued: “I told them to back off. I thought that was enough.”

You turned to face him.

“I was too late. And I’m sorry.”

You didn’t want his apology.

You wanted to go back and undo all of it. All the memories with him.

[One Month Later]

It was as if you had never existed.

Even your home, he passed by once, late at night, still in his hoodie and uniform, was locked up, the windows sealed, the gate chained. A "FOR RENT" sign swayed faintly in the wind.

You had moved.

Without goodbye.

“…Didn’t they get, like, pushed or something?”

“Maybe their parents freaked out.”

“Phainon’s been acting insane ever since. You think he—”

The boy they were whispering about passed them without a glance.

He just sat in the old lab sometimes—your chair cold and silent across from him—staring at the unfinished game you both used to work on. His fingers would hover over the keyboard, only to fall away.

He didn’t talk to Kaito anymore. He didn’t talk to anyone, really.

One week later, Phainon stared at the wall of post-its he'd started building.

A map of digital footprints.

The last IP address you logged in with.

An email you once mentioned.

A string of code only you would write—he knew because he still had a CD of your logic framework.

An old blog post under a different name, dated three years ago.

He had learned from you. Studied you. Watched you work, memorized the way you built firewalls, nested loops, hid access points like digital breadcrumbs only someone obsessed would find.

And he was obsessed.

At school, Phainon finally started speaking again.

To the computer science teacher.

To the club advisor.

To anyone who might know where the school sent your records. What your “transfer” details included.

But they all said the same thing.

"We don’t know." "It was a private transfer." "We were told not to disclose further."

He sat by his screen again. The glow cast his face in cold blues.

On it was a pixelated image—the game you had coded.

Only this time, it had been modified.

There was a new character. One that looked an awful lot like you. Standing at the end of a path surrounded by glitchy trees.

He pressed enter.

And the character vanished.

Phainon leaned back in his chair.

Where did you go? He didn’t get an answer.

Not yet.

But he would.

----

The screen glowed in the pitch-black room.

Phainon hadn’t slept. Not properly.

There it was.

Phainon’s lips parted. His eyes lit up like a mad scientist finding the last missing variable.

“…Got you.”

----

You sat in the back of the new lab, a new place, everything is new to you, headphones in, hoodie up. You'd been making slow friends here.

Safe. Or so you thought.

Until you saw a notification blink on your laptop.

“System Resource Conflict – Unknown Peripheral Access Attempted.”

You immediately yanked the USB port out.

"Dammit."

----

[Night – Back in Your Apartment]

You watched the camera LED on your laptop blink once, then stop.

You covered it. Disconnected from all networks.

And still, you found phantom code—commands embedded in weird spots.

He was inside.

“What do you want, Phainon?”

The screen lit up again.

Just a simple text file opened itself.

I want what’s mine.

[Elsewhere – Phainon’s POV]

He sat in a cheap hotel near your neighborhood, his laptop surrounded by energy drink cans and open notebooks filled with your old quotes, half-written function names, sketches of you in the margins.

This wasn’t about revenge.

This was about fixing the error that happened the day you left.

[The Next Day – At Your School]

You felt someone watching.

Students still walked the hall like normal. But your hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

And when you reached your locker, you found a CD. Labeled in black marker:

“Final Build – OUR Game.”

You dropped it immediately. You didn’t pick it up.

But someone else did. Your cousin.

“…Hey, isn’t this yours?”

“No. Leave it.”

That night, when you checked online, your cousin’s PC pinged offline.

“Ugh.. I warned him already.”

Then his phone. Then his socials.

Gone.

You wanted to end this. So you did what you must.

“Don’t worry. I’m here now.”

“We’re going to finish what we started.”

“Together.”

The lights in your room dimmed.

You agreed to meet him.

“Let’s end this.”

Rooftop. 5:00 PM.

You knew this was dangerous.

But you were exhausted.

Of hiding. Of losing friends.

You needed closure—even if it meant facing him again.

----

Phainon stood at the edge of the roof, back to you.

He hadn’t changed much.

You approached slowly.

Phainon turned.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said, stepping forward. “I just… wanted to be with you. Always.”

“You hacked my laptop.”

“You left first.”

“You stalked me. Threatened people. My cousin.”

“He shouldn’t have touched our game.”

“It wasn’t ‘our’ anything!” you snapped. “It stopped being ours the moment you tried to control me.”

“...I see”

That was it. You said what you had to say. You turned toward the door.

You should’ve kept your guard up.

CRACK

Blinding white. Then black.

-----

You stirred.

Phainon sat nearby, typing.

“Hey,” he said softly, as if he hadn’t just abducted you. “You were out for a while. I was worried.”

“Let me go.”

He tilted his head. “But I just got you back.”

“You can’t keep me here.”

“I can. And I will. We have work to finish.”

“…You're insane.”

“No,” he said with unnerving calm. “I'm in love.”

He stood, walking toward you, crouching beside your chair.

“Look, I added your old AI logic into the game. It talks like you now.”

You stared at him in horror.

“Phainon… you can't replace me with code.”

He smiled.

“Then stay.”

Then, like he was explaining code to a beginner:

“If I lose you again… I’ll transfer you.”

“What?”

“If your body dies… I can keep you. Upload your consciousness into the framework. You’re brilliant, after all. Your patterns, your memory depth... already trained into the AI from our game.” He reached up and gently touched your temple. “You won’t even notice the difference.”

You went completely still.

He was serious. Fully convinced. He would do it.

“…Phainon” you said quietly, doing everything you could to keep your voice steady. “That’s… sweet. But I’m not ready for that.”

“I just think,” you continued, “maybe I can help improve the code more if I’m still—” you laughed nervously—“you know, in this form.”

Then… he sighed. “You’re so logical,” he murmured. “So calm.... That’s why I love you.”

He leaned his forehead against yours.

“I knew you’d understand eventually.”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Ooo you’re doing Pressure!!

May I request an artist reader who, throughout the journey found some paper, pencil and made a little makeshift sketchbook and when later bought Sebastian’s document decided to try and draw him? Like maybe both when human and current (and maybe the monsters)? 

Perhaps he saw them sketching, got curious and decided to look through it when reader left it somewhere or just straight up snatched it and held it out of their reach and sees those sketches of him. Could be hurt/comfort or angst/fluff.

Of course you’re free to change any of the details but please keep it platonic TwT

Aw love this idea! And it works considering all the paper and notebooks in the drawers of the blacksite.

............

"Great, [y/n]. One moment, you're doing some harmless graffiti on a brick wall nobody cares about. And the next, you're risking your life for a stupid crystal in hopes you'll get a federal pardon.."

Sighing, you held onto the overhead handles within the sleek black submarine, feeling it shake and rumble as it breached the water's surface. And after hearing the chime, the door hissed and opened up, the platform extending out onto the dock of a place already familiar to you: Hadal Blacksite.

'No place like home..' As you stepped out of the submarine, you could hear HQ over the PDA system informing you of your objective in reaching the crystal and collecting any "loose assets" you find along the way...

As if you needed any reminders of what you were doing here.

Immediately, you unlocked the first door with the keycard and began your journey to room 100. Along the way, you found a good handful of research data. Nothing too special aside from folders, USB drives, and a couple blue DNA vials.

Then after narrowly dodging the Angler in one area and avoiding Eyefestation's gaze in the next, you reached a room requiring yet another keycard to exit. You checked the nearby office cubicle, finding it in the first drawer you opened.

But that isn't what made your eyes light up. Rather, it's what was right next to the card that did:

A brand new pencil to go with the sketchbook you've been carrying with you.

Because you weren't given the luxury of doodling while sitting in jail for over 90 days, you felt your creativity flames being snuffed out, leaving you itching to draw something again.

Before all of this, you had a decent following on social media with your art skills, and you could imagine that they're worried sick over your sudden absence. But you hoped that, if you survive and succeed in this mission, you'll be able to come back and reassure them that you're very much alive.

And perhaps show them what Urbanshade has been hiding from the public...that is to say the sea monsters that have taken up residence in the Blacksite since its lockdown, freely roaming and haunting nearly every room you step into.

With the makeshift sketchbook you had (and somehow kept even after death), you've filled its pages with simple and detailed sketches of each creature you encountered.

But you doubt that they would let you leave with physical evidence of entities nobody else in the world should know about...unless you somehow convinced the guards that they were "original characters" that so-happened to look like them, but you had a feeling that excuse wouldn't fly.

Regardless, they've given you tons of artistic inspiration, despite your many close-calls with them in pursuit of studying their features from afar.

Thanks to the files Sebastian Solace has shown you, you've learned how to safely observe the Angler from a distance and better remember their details. They were merely a grotesque face surrounded by smoke, so you didn't have to worry about drawing any limbs or tails (assuming they had those).

You encountered their variants so many times that you could recall the little things that made each them unique--like how Pinkie had four pupils, how Blitz was missing pupils in one socket completely, how Froger was..well..a big frog with lots of needle-shaped teeth, and Chainsmoker was a sluggish blobfish through all that smoke.

Making eye contact with Pandemonium was a death sentence..as you've already learned after trying (and failing) to safely observe him through a glass window. So you draw him as you see him in his file.

The Squiddles' "intimidating" faces were scary in the dark when you least expected them, but they served as amazing inspiration. You even had a page full of what faces you'd think they make up to frighten others. It's too bad you couldn't show them, however, as that required you getting in their personal space.

Eyefestation, Good People, and the Wall Dwellers were quite..risky to observe, as they had ways of quickly and painfully sending you back to square one if you weren't careful. Even so, you made some pretty damn good sketches..and you wish you could show them off to them, too, especially to the shark who'd probably appreciate a human's drawing of herself.

Even the DiVine, who were always frozen in poses for some reason, joined your ever-growing list of muses. The oxygen gardens were a nice place for you to rest and appreciate the flora for a few moments--before an Angler came along, of course.

Then there was Sebastian.

While he was fully aware of your artistic passions, in the beginning he seemed a bit annoyed whenever you came into his shop just to sketch.....or if you took an unusually long time to reach him. He just assumes you've stopped to "doodle" and wonders if you really care about getting out of this place alive.

He'd remind you that HQ could get suspicious if you're off their radar for too long, but you've stayed in his shop for 10-20 minutes at a time and not once did your diving gear beep. So you reassured him not to fret.

It was kinda sweet that he worried over you, an expendable, although maybe that's because you actually treat him with decency..and don't take his snarky comments to heart whenever you died.

Aside from the occasional eyeroll whenever you brought out your sketchbook, he did inquire about some of the things you've drawn, and you'd show him, bearing a little pride in your work.

All you'd get in response was a "neato" or "wowie, that's how you see them?" and nothing more.

It wasn't insulting, so...you'll take that.

Obviously he was more concerned about how much research data you were willing to fork over in exchange for supplies, and how far that equipment will carry you before your next demise. So you'd eventually close the book and barter with him for whatever wares were on his tail.

Unbeknownst to him, you've actually started sketching him as of late. Now that you've met him dozens of times, it was easy for you to recall his features without needing to stare at him for reference every five seconds.

That would not only be rude, but very creepy.

Then one day, you showed up to Sebastian's shop with enough data to be able to afford his document, which described him as Z-13, "The Saboteur" who the company wanted "dead on sight" if he was spotted or trying to escape.

When you had time to read the file on your own, you learned some..pretty shocking things about how he caused the lockdown, went through torturous experiments, and was falsely accused of nine murders and was proven innocent far too late.

The most upsetting part was that he was never informed of this.

He learned that after presumably stealing his own document.

It made you feel sick to your stomach, knowing he's the reason you're being terrorized by those beasts, but you couldn't find it in your heart to be angry at him.

If anything you were angry at Urbanshade for their "guilty until proven innocent" system--or in his case, being proven innocent didn't matter.

His human mugshot was also included in the file, and even with the black censor bar covering his eyes, he still looked like quite a handsome fellow. You could make out some details, and ended up drawing him on a separate page, too, although part of you wishes you never started.

You doubt he would kill you or rip apart your book for drawing him, but considering how volatile and rude he could be at a moment's notice..you did your best to conceal the sketches when you visited his shop.

You didn't want him to be offended or reminded of his past..and make him resent the one person who he almost considered a genuine friend.

Unfortunately, you'd soon come to realize that your actions were only heightening his suspicions.

And that it was going to come to a head next time you entered his shop.

...............

"Okay, I'm going to bite...what're you really hiding in that little book?"

"Pardon?" Pausing mid-sketch, you looked up at Sebastian, wondering why he appeared so disgruntled. "I'm..uh...just doodling like I always-"

"No, don't give me that "like always" crap." He huffed, flicking the end of his tail as he crossed his two arms over his chest, staring down at you. "Last time, you couldn't stop showing me a stupid face you'd think one of those S-Qs would make...and now you won't even let me have a sneak peak of your next "masterpiece"." He spat the last word, voice dripping with disdain. "Are you really drawing something...or are you secretly writing intel to give to Urbanshade?"

"...wha.." You blinked in disbelief, wondering where he'd get that assumption from. "Why would I ever do that?"

"Oh I dunno, maaaybe because you have access to my file and know my location? I bet you're gonna sell me out to those scumbags once you reach the crystal." He gnashed his teeth. "Did they say you'd get extra cash for leaving tips on my whereabouts, huh?"

"Sebastian, there's no reason for this hostility. I'm not giving any intel to anyone-"

"Then you wouldn't mind me taking a look at this, would you? Yyyyyyoink!" His third arm was quick to snatch your sketchbook away, holding it out of your reach as you jumped up in panic.

You were already dreading his reaction.

This could very well be the end for you.

"Please give that back! You'll tear it!"

"You look frightened. So maybe I should, considering you're writing secrets about.....about...." But as Sebastian finally looked at the page, all he saw were sketches of his current self, and you began to see a shift in his expression.

It went from pure anger, to surprise and confusion, and then to....something unreadable.

"These are...all of me?" His voice became quieter as he flipped the page, only for his breath to hitch upon finding the drawings of his human form.

And for once, he was completely speechless.

The details were immaculate, everything from his hair style to the scar he used to have across his face--given to him from an angry cellmate who thought he really did kill those people and tried giving him a "taste of his own medicine".

But the way you made him look was...incredible.

That's him.

That's really him.

The man--the human--he was before...

Before...

"Yes." Your face was burning with embarrassment, and your heart was pounding with fear of both death and ridicule, now knowing that your fate laid in his hands now. "I-I'm sorry. I should've asked for your permission and I know the details aren't perfect but you didn't let me........huh?"

Ceasing your ramblings, you noticed the tears welling in his eyes, and you were stunned. Then his shaking hands closed the sketchbook and returned it to you. "Um..are you okay? I'm really sorry if-"

"I...a-almost forgot what I looked like before all of this.." He raised a claw to wipe at his watery eyes, sniffling. "They're...good drawings, friend. I'm sorry..I...I-I didn't mean to..." His voice cracked, and he forced himself to stop, bringing his hands to his face. "Why am I crying over something like..t-this..?"

He hated looking so weak in front of you, yet he couldn't help the tears that kept slipping down his cheeks. A certain sadness was weighing heavily on his heart, yet at the same time he felt...honored that you wanted to draw him, putting your heart and soul into every sketch--with him getting the most effort.

You didn't overexaggerate him as the hideous beast he and everyone else was convinced he was, but just him as, well, himself. His smiles when he realizes it's you coming through the vent again, his cheeky grins when you buy up all his supplies, and even the one time he pouted when you died to Pandemonium because you risked it all trying to draw the moldy fish-creature.

The human ones, as you could tell from the way he broke down, especially hit home for him. Just from a mugshot alone, you were able to create a near-accurate depiction of him.

It made him wonder if you two have met before any of this happened.

Sebastian sniffled, struggling to stop the tears and expecting you to make fun of him as he finally uncovered his face. But instead he saw you standing there with your arms opened up. "I feel like you could use one of these. It's okay. I know you miss being human."

".........."

"C'mon, big guy. My arms are kinda hurting--oh!"

Without warning, he accepted your embrace and squeezed you tightly in his hold. Of course he was careful not to crush your diving tanks, and you smiled in appreciation and patted his back. "It's okay, it's alright..I got you. I didn't mean to make you cry."

He sniffled a few times, but otherwise said nothing and tried making sure you weren't supporting all of his upper body weight.

Curse his size. He wishes he could experience a normal hug again.

This one will do, though.

"I-It's...it's fine. Don't worry.." He finally spoke after a few moments, calming down. "As long as you don't tell anyone about this."

"I'll take it to my grave." You chuckled, letting go and stepping away so he could straighten his back out. While he did that, you gently tore a few pages from your book, to which he blinked in confusion.

"What are you doing with-?"

"Keep them." You insisted. "In case this sketchbook falls into a pit or gets waterlogged, I want you to hold onto these. Besides, I can tell you appreciate them a lot. So...consider it a gift."

"Why..thank you." A smile appeared on his face as he took the pages carefully. "Rest assured, they'll be safe and sound." He gazed at them both one more time, feeling a tug on his heart.

But it wasn't as heavy as before.

After neatly folding and stowing them away into his pockets, he saw you already sitting in one of the chairs, your sketchbook opened to a brand new blank page.

"Sooooooo what are you going to draw this time?" He tilted his head, ear fins twitching with curiosity.

"Hm...I did see a vision of a white glowing man a few rooms back. I think he was from...the Mindscape? There was a file talking about him and some floating gears and a white ball."

"Ohh yeah, he's an interesting guy. I'd love to see your interpretation of him." Now Sebastian was 100% invested, as he curled his tail around himself, resting his upper body on it so he could see your book better. "But y'know you won't be able to leave this place with sketches of-"

"I'm well aware of that...I could always change a few things and turn them into OCs."

"Hah. You should."

"Maybe I will." You snickered, grateful that you didn't have anything to fear.

At least somebody in the Blacksite appreciated your art.

[eu0n1a]

Pls I need more of yandere Izuku!!! I BEG OF YOU!!!! I 100% believe he is stalker material and would have that wall of pictures of you.

yandere prohero izuku breaking into your home (+more Stalking details) (-follow me on tiktok: @sunnytingz69 for ur fav character edits & help me hit 1K so i can livestream games, book streams, n more)

your relationship seemed normal to you, he's your childhood best friend. after graduating UA and quickly rising to the top. you never escaped his mind. he misses you SO MUCH!

i mean you two have spent practically your whole lives together, and now what? nothing? he's so busy now, beating villains bloody, attending national TV interviews. if it's not the work then it's the media not giving him space to breathe. and you barely have time with all the pile of work your professors give you.

he would try his best to maintain contact with you. but everytime the messages would be hours apart. he felt you fading away and it upset him. he hasn't seen you in so long.

so he decides to visit you. issue is during his visit ...

he knows it's late at night. but something caught his eye. around the small space between the curtains and he saw YOU!

"gosh you're so cute," he thinks with heart eyes.

deciding to let himself in.

"best friends let themselves into eachother's houses, right?"

"i just want to turn off the TV, i'm doing her a favor."

taking advantage of the fact it's 3AM. passing through the white picket fence. in your backyard he opened the back door you forget to lock. Japan is one of the safest countries in the world. why lock it?

because of him. you'll learn soon.

exploring your house first, particularly your bedroom. rationalizing it by saying, "their birthday is coming up. maybe i'll find out what she likes."

of course he rationalizes every odd thing he does.

sniffing the pillows, a soft smile, whispering to himself, "mm strawberry shampoo" total lovesick idiot.

by the time, he finished learning things about you, he got to the living room. The TV radiating light on your face, everything else dark.

today was his first picture, his heart beating rapidly as he took it. gosh, how much he wanted to kiss you, hold you. you always lingered on his mind and he hates himself. hates himself for not confessing his love to you back in UA.

you could have been his. his honey, his lover. someone to dote on, someone to love, he hated how he wasn't able to caress your cheek.

but for now he had to return back home.

creating fake social media accounts. thank goodness you didn't have a private account. saving all your pictures, visiting your page whenever he could.

screenshotting pictures, making deep dives on the surroundings. who's that? he's searching up everything about the people around you in those pictures.

but he wouldn't talk to you, no. he needs to make sure he has all his facts straight about you. needs to make your reunion perfect.

instead he took pictures, videos. his phone had a whole folder dedicated to them. it was private, labeled as 'documents'. even bought a usb to upload it to his personal laptop.

pictures of you out on a walk, at a club, at home. he would dedicate his time simply staring, excusing it as "she's changed so much, i need to learn more about her".

it turned into something he couldn't help. secretly following her because 'a quirkless person must be protected. nothing will happen to them on my watch.'

familiarizing himself with you again as he opens one of his drawers. notebooks upon notebooks, all about you, from elementary to his UA years. reading through them either to give himself a good laugh or reminisce the past.

opening up a new notebook for a new era. once the pen hits the paper, he writes quickly, whispering gibberish at a rapid pace only he could understand.

(thx 4 the ask, I've literally never had one before💗)

[atlasthegreatest]

Late Nights and Love Notes / Barbara Gordon x Gender Neutral! Reader

Barbara spends so much time analyzing crime reports and hacking databases that she almost forgets it’s Valentine’s Day. But when she opens one of her old notebooks, she notices something—tiny, handwritten notes in the margins, left by someone who knows her better than anyone.

Word count: 2814

Warnings: Established relationship. Slightly suggestive scene at the end. Fluff.

Barbara had spent the past seven hours surrounded by glowing screens, fingers flying over her keyboard as she cross-referenced encrypted databases, police reports, and underground networks. The Batcomputer hummed softly in the dim light of her clock tower hideout, illuminating her sharp, determined expression. Somewhere outside, Gotham pulsed with life—sirens, distant shouts, the city’s heartbeat relentless as ever.

She barely noticed.

Her mind was a thousand steps ahead, mapping out criminal patterns, tracking movements, and deciphering codes. The usual. What she hadn’t tracked, however, was the date.

It wasn’t until she absentmindedly reached for an old notebook, flipping through pages of scribbled notes on casework and hacker exploits, that something caught her eye.

A tiny remark in the margins.

“You’re overthinking this. Again.”

The handwriting wasn’t hers.

Barbara blinked, momentarily pulled from her digital world, and traced her fingers over the words. The handwriting was familiar—too familiar. It was Y/n’s.

Curious, she flipped further. Another note.

“You look cute when you’re focused. But also kind of scary.”

Her lips twitched. The teasing was so them, slipping into her notes like a whispered comment over her shoulder. Her fingers brushed over the ink, almost hearing their voice.

She turned another page.

“Take a break, Babs. The bad guys will still be here in the morning.”

And then, at the very bottom of the last page:

“Meet me on the rooftop at midnight.”

Her breath caught. She glanced at the digital clock. 11:53 PM.

“Oh, hell.”

Barbara shoved back from the desk, heart pounding. She hadn’t forgotten on purpose, but still—Valentine’s Day. And Y/n had known she would get lost in her work. Knew her well enough to leave breadcrumbs in a place she was bound to find them.

A rush of warmth spread through her chest.

She grabbed her jacket, barely stopping to lock down her systems before making her way up the metal staircase leading to the rooftop access. Gotham’s cold night air hit her instantly, sharp and crisp against her skin. And there Y/n was—perched on the edge of the rooftop, a knowing smile playing on their lips, hands tucked into their jacket. The moonlight traced along their features, making them look impossibly beautiful.

“Took you long enough,” they teased.

Barbara shook her head, still catching up to the moment. “You left those notes on purpose.”

“Obviously.” Y/n grinned. “Had to make sure you didn’t miss the date.”

The red-haired stepped closer, eyes softening. “I wouldn’t have missed it.”

Y/n raised a brow. “Mm-hmm. That’s why you were holed up in the clock tower, running crime stats like it was just another Tuesday?”

Barbara sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “…Maybe.”

Y/n laughed, and the sound sent warmth through Barbara in a way no glowing screen ever could. Then, without another word, they reached into their pocket and pulled out a small box.

Barbara blinked. “What’s that?”

“A late Valentine’s Day gift.” Y/n pressed it into her palm, their fingers lingering over hers.

She opened it cautiously—and immediately bit back a laugh. Inside was a USB drive, sleek and black, labeled “For Emergency Use Only.”

“I figured if I gave you chocolates, you’d forget and let them melt in the Batcomputer.”

Barbara smirked, rolling her eyes. “You know me too well.”

“Always.”

She looked up, meeting Y/n’s gaze fully, and for once, let herself step out of the endless cycle of Gotham’s chaos. Just for tonight. Just for them.

Barbara leaned in, her voice softer now. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Then, with the city stretching out beneath them, she kissed Y/n—slow and certain, like a promise.

Y/n tasted like the cold night air and something distinctly them—familiar, grounding, the kind of warmth that seeped past her walls no matter how much she tried to keep herself locked in Gotham’s never-ending battle. Y/n fingers curled around her waist, tugging her closer, and Barbara let herself melt into it.

For once, there were no crime reports, no endless streams of data, no looming threats demanding her attention. Just this. Just Y/n.

When she finally pulled back, Y/n’s lips were curled into a smug little smile. “See? Wasn’t that better than sitting in front of a screen all night?”

Barbara huffed, shaking her head. “Debatable.”

Y/n gasped, dramatically clutching their chest. “Wow. Unbelievable. I spend all this time planning a cute, romantic moment—even leave you little love notes in your own notebook—and this is the thanks I get?”

She smirked. “You knew what you were getting into when you started dating me.”

“Oh, trust me, I know.” Y/n crossed their arms around the redhead's waist and couldn’t quite keep the grin off their face. “That’s why I left you something useful.”

Barbara glanced down at the USB in her palm, curiosity flickering in her sharp green eyes. “So, what’s actually on this?”

Y/n rocked back on their heels, feigning innocence. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Barbara narrowed her eyes, flipping the drive between her fingers. “If this is a prank file with ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’ on loop, I will get revenge.”

Y/n cackled. “Damn, now I wish I did that.”

She shook her head fondly before slipping the USB into her jacket pocket. “I’ll check it later.” Then, she tilted her head at them. “So, what now?”

Y/n considered for a moment before holding out their hand. “Now, I steal you away from your data-obsessed life for a few hours.”

Barbara arched a brow. “Steal me away where, exactly?”

“It’s a surprise.”

She hesitated, glancing back toward the clock tower, where Gotham’s endless cycle of crime and responsibility still loomed. But then she looked at Y/n—standing there, waiting, offering her something rare and fleeting in this city: a moment just for her.

Barbara sighed, but it was the kind of sigh that meant she was giving in. She took their hand, lacing her fingers through theirs, and let Y/n pull her toward the rooftop’s edge.

“Alright,” she murmured. “Surprise me.”

And with that, they both disappeared into the Gotham night.

————————

The city stretched out beneath the couple in an endless sea of flickering lights, but for once, Barbara wasn’t focused on tracking patterns in the chaos. Instead, she was focused on Y/n—the way their fingers curled around hers, the slight bounce in their step as they led her across the rooftop, the satisfied little smirk that told her Y/n had something up their sleeve.

She let Y/n lead her toward the fire escape, and they both descended with practiced ease. It wasn’t long before the couple reached the street, weaving through Gotham’s quieter alleys, far from the usual crime-ridden hotspots. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of rain and concrete, but there was something oddly peaceful about the moment.

After a few blocks, Barbara finally caved.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going, or am I supposed to hack into traffic cameras and figure it out myself?”

Y/n glanced at her over their shoulder, grinning. “You could. But where’s the fun in that?”

Barbara sighed, shaking her head. “You enjoy messing with me way too much.”

“Oh, way too much,” they teased, squeezing her hand before finally slowing their pace.

Y/n stopped in front of a small, tucked-away café—one of the few places in Gotham that didn’t come with a side of criminal activity. It was the kind of place most people overlooked, hidden between towering buildings, with soft golden lighting spilling from the windows and the faint sound of jazz playing from inside.

Barbara blinked. “Wait. This is—”

“Our spot?” they finished for her, eyes twinkling. “Yeah.”

The redhead let out a small breath of laughter, a rare moment of unguarded affection in her expression. “You thought of everything.”

Y/n shrugged, nudging the door open. “Of course. I know you, Babs. I knew you’d lose track of time, so I left you those notes. I knew you’d spend all night hunched over your computer, so I got you out of there. And I knew you wouldn’t want some big, crowded Valentine’s thing—so I brought you here.”

Barbara stared at her partner for a moment, her usual sharp, analytical mind suddenly blank.

Because no matter how much data she could process, no matter how many patterns she could predict, Y/n always managed to catch her off guard in the best possible way.

“…You’re kind of incredible, you know that?” she murmured.

Y/n smirked. “I do know that. But it’s nice to hear you say it.”

She rolled her eyes but let them tug her inside, where the warmth of the café wrapped around them both like a secret. The barista gave Y/n a knowing nod before sliding over two mugs—her usual order and theirs, already waiting.

Barbara raised an eyebrow. “You planned this far ahead?”

Y/n grinned, taking a sip of their drink. “Like I said—I know you.”

Barbara just shook her head, lips curling into a small, affectionate smile. She picked up her mug, feeling the warmth seep into her fingers, and let herself relax into the moment.

Gotham would still be there in the morning. But right now?

Right now, she had Y/n.

————————

The couple had settled into a corner booth, tucked away from the few other late-night patrons. The soft hum of jazz blended with the quiet clinking of cups and whispered conversations, creating a rare bubble of peace in a city that never seemed to stop moving.

Barbara let out a slow breath, fingers wrapped around the warm ceramic of her mug. It wasn’t often she allowed herself to just exist—to sit down, to savor something as simple as coffee, to be here with Y/n instead of chasing the next lead or running through an endless list of threats.

But Y/n had a way of grounding her, of pulling her out of her head just when she needed it most.

She studied Y/n over the rim of her cup, taking in the content little smile on their lips as they stirred their drink. The fact that they’d gone out of their way to plan all of this—leaving her notes, leading her here, making sure she didn’t let the day slip away completely—it meant something.

More than she could say out loud.

So instead, she smirked and leaned forward slightly. “Alright, I have to ask—what’s actually on the USB?”

Y/n grinned, clearly enjoying the suspense. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

Barbara narrowed her eyes. “You do realize I could find out in seconds, right?”

“Oh, I know.” Y/n took a slow sip of their drink, utterly unbothered. “But that’s no fun.”

Barbara huffed, shaking her head. “You are ridiculous.”

“And yet, you love me anyway.”

Her breath hitched—not because she didn’t know it was true, but because Y/n said it so easily like it was the simplest fact in the world. And maybe it was.

She swallowed, glancing down at her cup. “Yeah. I do.”

Their teasing smile softened just a little, and before she could say anything else, Y/n reached across the table, fingertips brushing over hers.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. The café bustled quietly around them, but in this little pocket of warmth, it didn’t matter.

Then, because she couldn’t help herself, Barbara smirked again. “Still hoping this USB isn’t just a giant Rickroll.”

Y/n groaned, pulling their hand back. “Wow. Moment ruined.”

Barbara laughed, and Y/n shot her a mock glare before reaching into their pocket. “Fine. If you have to know, I guess I’ll let you see it early.”

Y/n slid their phone across the table, the screen lit up with a file list. Barbara’s eyes flicked over it, expecting a prank—but then her heart stuttered.

A collection of audio files. A folder labeled For Babs.

She glanced back up at them, brow furrowing. “What is this?”

Y/n hesitated for the first time all night, suddenly looking a little shy. “Just… something I put together.”

Barbara tapped the screen, opening one of the files.

And then—

“Hey, Babs. If you’re listening to this, it means you actually took a break. Which, honestly, I’m kind of impressed by.”

Her eyes widened. It was Y/n’s voice—clear and warm, laced with the usual teasing affection.

“Anyway, I just wanted to make you something you could listen to when I’m not around. Something to remind you to get your head out of the Batcomputer and, I don’t know, breathe once in a while.”

Barbara swallowed hard, her grip tightening on the phone as she scrolled through the other files. There were more recordings—some just of Y/n talking, somewhere they were reading passages from books they knew she liked, somewhere they were just rambling about their day.

Something she could listen to on long nights alone in the clock tower.

She glanced back up at them, stunned into silence.

Y/n shifted in their seat, rubbing the back of their neck. “I know it’s not, like, a fancy gift, but I figured—”

Barbara didn’t let them finish.

Instead, she leaned across the table and kissed them, hands cradling Y/n’s face as her lips pressed against theirs—soft, warm, grateful. Y/n made a surprised little sound before melting into it, fingers curling into the sleeve of her jacket.

When she finally pulled back, her voice was barely above a whisper.

“It’s perfect.”

Y/n’s breath hitched slightly, and for once, they were the ones left speechless.

Barbara just smiled, tapping the screen of Y/n’s phone before slipping it back toward them. “Now, c’mon. You went through all this trouble to plan the perfect night.” She laced her fingers through Y/n’s again, squeezing gently. “Let’s make the most of it.”

And with that, the couple let the world fall away for just a little longer.

Bonus Chapter:

A few days had passed since the couple's impromptu Valentine’s night out, but Barbara still found herself replaying the moments in her mind—Y/n’s teasing notes in her margins, the way they had practically dragged her out of the clock tower, the warmth of their lips when she finally kissed them in that quiet little café.

And, of course, the USB drive.

She’d listened to a few of the recordings already—soft snippets of Y/n’s voice, some laced with laughter, others full of gentle reminders to breathe, to take a break, to eat something that isn’t coffee and sheer willpower.

It was ridiculous. And stupidly sweet.

And it made her miss Y/n more than she expected.

Which was probably why she found herself making the rare decision to step away from the Batcomputer before midnight.

She grabbed her leather jacket, tucked the USB drive into her pocket, and made her way out of the clock tower.

—-——————

Y/n’s apartment wasn’t far.

Y/n wasn’t expecting her—Barbara knew that. It wasn’t like she texted or called to let them know she was coming. But the second she landed lightly on their fire escape, she caught sight of the faint glow of Y/n’s living room lamp, the soft sound of music filtering through the window.

She knocked on the glass once.

A few seconds later, Y/n appeared, blinking in sleepy surprise. Then, when they saw who it was, a slow, knowing smile spread across their face.

“Babs,” they murmured, unlatching the window. “To what do I owe the honor?”

Barbara smirked, stepping inside with practiced ease. “Thought I’d return the favor. You stole me away from my work the other night—figured it was my turn.”

Y/n arched a brow. “Oh? And what exactly do you have in mind?”

Barbara didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the USB drive, holding it up between her fingers.

“I listened to it,” she admitted softly.

Y/n’s teasing bravado faltered for a moment. “And?”

Barbara took a step closer, letting her free hand trail up their arm. “And I might have actually taken your advice for once.”

Y/n looked down at her, eyes searching, before their lips curled into a softer smile. “That’s a huge win for me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late.”

Barbara laughed, shaking her head. Then, without another word, she pulled Y/n in—slow and deliberate, her lips brushing over theirs in a way that made Y/n sigh against her mouth.

This kiss was different from the one on the rooftop, different from the café. This one was unhurried, lingering, like she was making up for a lost time. Like she missed them.

When she finally pulled back, Y/n was looking at her with something warm and unreadable in their eyes.

“Stay,” they murmured.

Barbara hesitated. Gotham never sleeps. The Bat-Signal could light up at any moment. There’s always another case to solve, another crisis to track.

But then Y/n laced their fingers through hers, squeezing gently.

And just like that, the decision wasn’t so hard.

“…Yeah,” she whispered. “I’ll stay.”

And for the first time in a long time, Barbara Gordon let herself have a night off.

[wonnieaura]

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ. College essentials

Are you moving to a college dorm for the first time and don’t know what to bring? Don’t worry I got you. Here are a few things you can get yourself ready for a new chapter 🫶🏻💗🎀🌱

COLLEGE ESSENTIALS

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Bedding and Comfort

• Twin XL sheets (common dorm bed size)

• Comforter or duvet

• Pillows and pillowcases

• Mattress topper (memory foam for extra comfort)

• Throw blankets

• Decorative pillows

Storage and Organization

• Under-bed storage bins

• Closet organizers

• Hangers

• Desk organizers (for pens, notebooks, etc.)

• Drawer dividers

• Shoe rack

• Storage ottoman (can double as seating)

Kitchen and Dining

• Mini fridge

• Microwave

• Electric kettle

• Coffee maker

• Reusable water bottle

• Plates, bowls, and utensils

• Mugs and glasses

• Tupperware (for leftovers and snacks)

• Snack stash

Bathroom Essentials

• Shower caddy (for transporting toiletries)

• Shower shoes/flip-flops

• Bath towels and washcloths

• Toiletries (shampoo, conditioner, soap, toothpaste, etc.)

• Robe

• Toilet paper

• Laundry basket and detergent

• Bath mat

• Mirror

Study and Technology

• Desk lamp with adjustable brightness

• Laptop and charger

• Power strip with surge protection

• Extension cords

• USB flash drive or external hard drive

• Noise-canceling headphones

• Desk chair cushion (for added comfort)

• Notebooks, pens, and planners

Décor and Personal Touches

• Wall art or posters

• String lights or LED lights

• Rug (to make the room cozier)

• Plants (real or fake)

• Photo frames or a corkboard (to display memories)

• Command hooks (for hanging items without damaging walls)

• Curtains (if the dorm allows)

Health and Wellness

• First-aid kit

• Reusable face masks

• Hand sanitizer

• Disinfecting wipes

• Vitamin supplements

• Water filter pitcher

Miscellaneous

• Fan or space heater (depending on climate)

• Tool kit (for small repairs)

• Umbrella

• Bicycle lock (if biking to campus)

• Reusable shopping bags

• Sewing kit

[loeyshine]

Sixteen Strings Ago

Epoch Book

•*⁀➷pairing: chanyeol x fem reader

Theme: healthy dose of fluff, angst, nostalgic relationship, teenage (reader), unseen mixtape, married couple

Description: she was 16, love for music and passion. It was just an old music mixtape, but would it suddenly change everything between his love for her?

Playlist: unchained melody — the righteous brothers

Chapter 1: The Mixtape

The spring sunlight filtered softly through the gauzy curtains of your shared apartment, casting a golden hue on the hardwood floor. You were cleaning out the closet in the study something you and Chanyeol had been procrastinating for months.

Your fingers brushed against an old shoebox, tucked way at the back behind stacks of books and a dusty photo frame. You sat cross-legged, pulling it out with curiosity, your heart pausing for a beat when you saw your own handwriting on the lid.

Y/N – memories (cringe warning lol)

You opened it slowly. Inside were old polaroids, pressed flowers, a couple of ticket stubs… and a small USB drive taped to a folded piece of notebook paper. You stared at it, your fingers trembling slightly.

Just then, Chanyeol walked in, a mug of coffee in each hand. He raised an eyebrow when he saw you frozen in place.

"What’s that?" he asked, handing you your mug before sitting beside you.

You chuckled nervously. "A relic from my teenage drama era."

His curiosity doubled. "Oho? Now this I need to see."

You hesitated. “It’s a video… of a song I wrote when I was 16. I recorded it for… my ex. After we broke up.”

Chanyeol’s expression faltered for the briefest second before he gave you a gentle smile. “I still want to see it. That was your past. And hey your music always fascinates me.”

With a sigh, you plugged the USB into your laptop. The screen lit up, and there you were 16, sitting on your bed, cradling your acoustic guitar, eyes red from crying but determined. The room behind you looked like a time capsule band posters, fairy lights, the whole moody teen aesthetic.

“Hey…” younger-you said shyly to the camera. “I wrote this after everything… I don’t know if you’ll ever listen, but I just had to get it out of me.”

The chords started softly, your fingers tentative but precise. The song was raw something about goodbye, about still hoping he finds happiness even if it’s not with you. Your voice cracked a bit near the end, but it was beautiful in a way only honesty can be.

Chanyeol didn’t say anything the whole time. When the video ended, the room was quiet.

You turned to him. “You okay?”

He blinked a few times. “Yeah… I just… I can’t believe that was you.”

“In a good way or a bad way?” you teased, trying to mask the vulnerability crawling up your spine.

“In the kind of way where I’m proud. Of the girl you were, and the woman you’ve become.” He reached for your hand. “You’ve always had music in your soul, Y/N. Even then. Even when it hurt.”

You looked down, heart swelling. “I was scared you'd feel weird. That it was too personal.”

“I want to know every version of you,” he said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Even the 16-year-old who cried over a guy that wasn’t me. Because I get to love you now.”

You leaned into him, letting his arms wrap around you.

“Still… kinda weird though,” he added, grinning. “I’m totally gonna write a diss track to that guy.”

You laughed against his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love with you,” he replied without missing a beat.

And in that quiet, golden-lit afternoon, surrounded by dust and memories, you realized that some pasts aren’t meant to haunt they’re just stepping stones to the present. And in this present, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 2: Duet of Us

It had been three days since you and Chanyeol watched the old mixtape the song you wrote at 16, raw and honest, poured out for a boy who no longer mattered. But the emotions in the lyrics still clung to you like gentle ghosts.

Chanyeol had been quiet about it since then, unusually contemplative, always humming something under his breath when you passed by the living room or caught him fiddling with his guitar.

So when he texted you from two rooms away “Come to the studio. Bring tea. No questions.”you knew something was up.

You padded in with a mug of chamomile, and paused at the door. The little home studio you both had built was lit with warm ambient lights. Chanyeol sat at the keyboard, guitar slung across his shoulder, headphones tilted back on his head.

“You look suspicious,” you said.

He turned, his eyes lit up like a kid about to show off his science project. “Okay. So… I may have done a thing.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A thing?”

He stood, grabbed your hand, and led you to the second mic. “I listened to that song again alone. And I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not just the heartbreak, but how deeply it came from you. And I kept wondering…”

“…Wondering?” you echoed, heart racing a little.

“What would it sound like now if we told the rest of that story together?”

Your eyes widened as he handed you a lyric sheet. Your words were there but woven into them were new ones. His. Like a response written in harmony, not just melody.

You scanned the lines:

Yours (then):

"I loved you in silence, even when you walked away / I wrote your name in the chords I couldn't play."

His (now):

"But I heard that silence, even from far away / And I’ve been writing back with every note I play."

Your throat caught. “Chanyeol…”

“I know it was a song for someone else,” he said gently. “But it’s also part of who you are. And now… maybe we can make it ours. Just one take. What do you say?”

You nodded, stepping to the mic. “Let’s finish the story.”

The track began same guitar intro, just like 16-year-old you played it. But this time, your voice was steadier, stronger, wrapped in warmth. And then Chanyeol’s voice came in rich, deep, like honey and rain. A perfect contrast. A perfect harmony.

You sang your verses, he sang his. And then unexpectedly he layered in new chords for a bridge

"You were meant to break to become whole / And I was waiting at the end of that road / Now here we are, no more shadows / Just light from the past that helped us grow."

The final chorus hit different now. Not about heartbreak but healing. The song was no longer a goodbye. It was a conversation across time. Between who you were and who you are. Between your past and your forever.

When you finished, there was a silence in the room that felt sacred.

You turned to him, and without a word, he cupped your face and kissed you soft, slow, like a promise.

“I love you,” you whispered.

“I love every version of you,” he murmured. “Even the one that wrote sad songs for other people. Because in the end, every note led you here. To me.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 3: The Face from the Song

It had started as a chill afternoon.

You and Chanyeol had just finished a cozy live acoustic set at a local indie café something you both did once in a while to stay grounded, to stay in love with music. You hadn’t even planned to sing the duet you’d written together from your old 16-year-old mixtape… but the moment felt right.

The café had been warm with soft lights and smiling faces, and when you sang that final line "Every note I wrote was leading me home..."the small crowd erupted into heartfelt applause.

You felt weightless.

Until you walked outside.

And saw him.

He was standing near the edge of the sidewalk, half-hidden beneath the awning of the neighboring bookstore, hands in his pockets. His hair was shorter now, face more mature, but those eyes they were exactly the same. And they were staring straight at you.

You froze.

Chanyeol was beside you, slipping his hand into yours as he followed your gaze.

The stranger stepped forward. “Y/N?”

You swallowed. “...Hey.”

“Wow,” he said with a stunned smile, “I thought I was hearing things in there. But then you started singing that song, and—” He shook his head like he was still catching up to reality. “You really kept it.”

Chanyeol shifted subtly closer, protective but not hostile. You gave his hand a squeeze.

Your ex looked between the two of you. “That song… it was the one you sent me, wasn’t it? When we… ended.”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. It was.”

“I never deleted it,” he said, softer now. “I used to listen to it whenever I missed you. I didn’t think I’d ever hear it again let alone live.”

Chanyeol finally spoke, voice calm but laced with quiet pride. “She didn’t just sing it again. We re-wrote it. Together.”

Your ex blinked, eyes darting between you and Chanyeol. “You two are…”

“Married,” you confirmed with a small smile.

He looked like he wasn’t sure whether to smile or look wistful. “You were always going to end up with someone musical. I guess I was just your... prelude.”

That got a quiet laugh out of you. “Maybe. But I don’t regret writing it. Or where it led me.”

Chanyeol squeezed your hand. “Neither do I.”

There was a long pause.

“I’m happy for you,” your ex finally said. “That song... it helped me grow up too. Even if it hurt.”

“Thank you,” you said genuinely. “For being part of my story.”

He nodded, then stepped back. “Well… take care, Y/N. And you too, man. Take care of her.”

“I will,” Chanyeol said without hesitation.

As your ex turned and disappeared down the street, you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Chanyeol looked down at you, his eyes soft.

“You okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. That was… closure. Unexpected, but kind.”

He kissed your forehead gently. “He was part of the song. But I’m the one you get to write the ending with.”

You leaned into him. “Damn right.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 4: The End of That Chapter

The night after running into your ex had been quiet. Too quiet.

Chanyeol could feel the weight you were carrying. You’d seemed fine, even happy in a way. But as you both lay in bed, the usual hum of contentment between you two had faded into a stillness that wasn’t quite like the peaceful silence you shared on most nights.

Chanyeol rolled over, propping himself up on one elbow to study your face in the dim light. You were staring at the ceiling, your fingers lightly tracing patterns in the sheets.

“Y/N,” he began softly, “do you want to talk about it?”

You blinked, a small smile playing on your lips, but it was a tired smile. “Talk about what?”

“The… past. With him. You don’t have to, of course,” he quickly added. “But I know you well enough to tell when something’s still lingering in your heart. And after seeing him tonight…” He hesitated for a moment, then gently added, “I guess I just want to understand it better. The way it ended. So I can understand you better.”

You sighed deeply, taking a moment before turning to meet his eyes, searching for the right words. “I guess I never really talked about it much. Not like this. I just kind of… moved on.”

He reached out and gently pulled you closer, resting his chin on your head. “You don’t have to explain everything, but I want to hear your version. How did you two end?”

You swallowed, thinking back to the days when everything felt like it was falling apart. “It was right before I left for college. We were together for almost three years. Everyone thought we were perfect me included. But after we both got busy, it felt like we were living separate lives. He became someone I didn’t recognize anymore. And I wasn’t who I used to be either.”

You paused, feeling the sting of old memories. “I wrote that song because I didn’t know how to say goodbye. I kept waiting for us to fix it, for him to change, for us to be what we once were. But he didn’t. And neither did I. We grew apart, and… it just ended.”

Chanyeol held you a little tighter, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I can’t imagine how hard that was. But you were so strong, Y/N. You let go, even when you still cared.”

“I had to,” you murmured. “I think deep down, I knew we were never meant to last. We were just two kids holding on to something we couldn’t quite let go of. He was a good person, but... we were never right for each other.”

“And now?” Chanyeol asked quietly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

“Now…” You smiled softly, looking up at him. “Now, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. With you.”

He smiled back, his eyes softening. “I’m glad you found me.”

“I’m glad you found me, too,” you replied, tracing the outline of his jawline gently.

There was a long pause as Chanyeol lay back, staring up at the ceiling. You could tell he was still processing the conversation, still piecing together parts of your past to understand the depth of who you were. But he never once let go of your hand, never once made you feel anything less than loved.

And that, in itself, was all you ever needed.

“I guess in the end,” he said after a while, “the song became a part of your story. But I’m the one who gets to write the next chapters. We both are.”

You chuckled softly, turning to face him fully. “That sounds like the start of something.”

He winked at you, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “The best part, actually.”

You grinned, kissing him on the lips. “The best part, indeed.”

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 5: The Music of Us

The night stretched on in soft, quiet comfort. The gentle hum of the city outside your window felt distant compared to the peace inside your home. The two of you were still in the studio, lingering after a long day. Chanyeol was sitting on the edge of the couch, tuning his guitar absentmindedly, while you worked on putting away some equipment.

But there was something about the stillness of the moment that made it feel more intimate than anything that had happened all evening. Maybe it was the way Chanyeol kept glancing at you when he thought you weren’t looking, or the way your fingers trembled slightly when you caught him watching you. There was an unspoken energy between you, one that hadn’t been there before. It was something new, something warm and full of possibility.

You finished tidying up, moving closer to him. “You’ve been playing that guitar for hours. You never get tired of it, do you?”

He smirked. “What can I say? Music’s in my blood.” He looked at you, his eyes softening. “But it’s not just the music. It’s you, too. Being with you… in this space, making something together. It’s everything.”

You paused, heart fluttering at his words. You couldn’t help but smile, walking over and sitting beside him. “It’s everything,” you repeated softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Even when we’re not singing, or making something… I feel like we’re always creating.”

Chanyeol’s eyes searched yours, his gaze intense yet full of warmth. “It’s because we’re always together, Y/N. That’s the real song. It’s not about the music we make it’s about us making it. You and me. Every day.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he slowly set his guitar aside, turning his full attention to you. The air between you two seemed to thicken, each word he spoke drawing you closer, each glance making your heart race faster.

“I want you, Y/N,” Chanyeol said, his voice low, almost a whisper, like the words were a secret shared only between the two of you.

You felt your pulse quicken, the vulnerability of the moment mixing with the intense affection you had for him. Your body was already moving toward him, your lips brushing against his in a soft kiss, slow but filled with everything unsaid.

He pulled you closer, his hands gentle but sure as they cupped your face, deepening the kiss. His lips moved with purpose, like he was trying to tell you something with each kiss, each touch.

“I love you,” he whispered between kisses, “more than I ever thought I could.”

“I love you, too,” you breathed, your hands finding their way into his hair, tugging him even closer. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the rhythm of his heartbeat syncing with yours.

The world outside the studio faded into nothing. There was only the two of you, the music, and the weight of everything that had led you to this moment. You could feel the years of struggle, of growth, of past pains melting away with every touch, every kiss. It was as if the music had finally woven the two of you into one, creating something so deeply intertwined that nothing could ever tear it apart.

“Chanyeol…” Your voice was barely a whisper as you looked up at him, your chest rising and falling with the intensity of the moment. “I need you.”

His gaze softened, his lips curving into a gentle smile. “I’m here. Always.”

Slowly, he stood, pulling you up with him. His hands didn’t leave your body as he moved you toward the couch, and you followed willingly, your body yearning for the closeness, for the connection only he could offer.

The kiss didn’t break as he laid you back against the cushions, his lips trailing down your neck, each touch sending shivers down your spine. His hands were soft but sure as they explored the curve of your waist, the familiar warmth of his touch making your heart flutter with something that felt like home.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Y/N,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with desire. “I can’t get enough of you.”

You could barely breathe as he hovered above you, his lips finding yours once again, and you couldn’t help but give yourself completely to him, to the love you had built together. The music of your connection played louder now than any song you’d ever written.

It wasn’t just about the music, or the song you once wrote for someone else it was about the harmony between you, Chanyeol, and the life you were building together. The past had its place, but the future? That was where you and he truly belonged.

And as you lost yourself in his touch, in the warmth of his embrace, you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful, endless song.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 6: The Sound of Forever"

The first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. You stirred, the warmth of Chanyeol’s body pressed against yours comforting you in ways you never expected. His arm was draped over you, his fingers lightly tracing the skin of your back as he slept, his breathing slow and steady.

You smiled to yourself, savoring the moment of quiet peace. Everything felt perfectly right, like the world outside could keep spinning, but here, in this little bubble of warmth, nothing else mattered. The echoes of last night of every kiss, every whispered word still lingered in the air between you.

You shifted slightly, your fingers brushing against the edge of his hand. He stirred, groaning softly, and then blinked up at you with sleepy eyes.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep, but warm and familiar.

“Morning,” you replied, resting your head on his chest. You could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear, the rhythm grounding you.

He smiled lazily, his hand slipping into your hair, fingers gently tugging you closer. “I think last night might have been the best night of my life.”

You laughed softly, looking up at him. “Because of…?”

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow playfully. “You, me, the music, the way we finally got our song right. It was perfect.” He kissed the top of your head before his voice lowered. “But mostly… because I got to love you in every way possible.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his words making you feel more cherished than you ever thought possible. “I’m glad you’re in my life,” you whispered, your fingers brushing against his chest, tracing the outline of his tattoos. “You make everything feel better. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

He kissed you then, soft and lingering, a kiss that told you everything you needed to know about how he felt. His lips were warm and reassuring, as if telling you that he would always be there through everything.

As the kiss broke, you both lay there in a peaceful silence, your fingers intertwined. Chanyeol’s thumb traced over the back of your hand, the soft caress a simple but meaningful gesture.

You looked at him again, your voice quieter this time. “Chanyeol, do you ever wonder… what would have happened if we never met?”

He didn’t hesitate. “No. I don’t need to wonder. Because we did meet. And I can’t imagine any other version of my life that would have been better than this one. With you.”

Your heart swelled, the words echoing through you, making every part of you ache with love for him. He was your present, your future your forever.

“I’m glad we met,” you said softly. “Even if it took me a while to find my way to you.”

“I would’ve waited forever for you,” Chanyeol replied, his voice filled with the depth of his love. “And I’m glad we’ve made something beautiful together. All the music, all the moments everything. You’re my melody, Y/N. My song.”

You smiled, a tear slipping down your cheek, though it was a tear of joy. “And you’re my harmony.”

Chanyeol kissed you again, this time a little more deeply, as if sealing that promise of music, love, and everything in between.

A few hours later, you both made your way into the kitchen, wrapped in the comfort of your shared space. As you moved through the motions of making breakfast together, you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything had shifted in the best possible way.

Chanyeol was humming the song you two had written together, the one that started as a relic from your past and ended as a testament to your present and future. It had become more than just a song it had become your song.

As you slid a cup of coffee over to him, you smiled softly. “You know, I think we should take this song to the next level.”

Chanyeol raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smile. “Oh? What do you mean?”

“Let’s record it. Professionally. And put it out there. For everyone to hear.” You looked at him, your gaze steady. “I want to share this with the world. Share us. I think… I think our love is meant to be heard.”

His eyes softened. “You sure?”

You nodded. “More than ever.”

A Few Weeks Later

The song, “The Sound of Forever”, was officially released an anthem not just of love but of growth, of rediscovery. It wasn’t just a song; it was your song, the one that had evolved from a painful goodbye into a beautiful love letter.

The response was overwhelming. People resonated with the raw emotion in the lyrics and the way the melody seemed to blend your voices perfectly. The duet had gone viral, with fans praising how your voices complemented each other so seamlessly. But for you, it wasn’t about the recognition it was about the love it represented.

Chanyeol stood next to you as you read through the comments, his arm wrapped around your shoulders.

“This… is bigger than I expected,” he said, glancing at you with a playful grin. “Do you think we should start a band?”

You laughed, leaning into him. “Maybe one day. But for now, I’m happy just being us.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Yeah. Me too. Because nothing beats this.”

As the song continued to play in the background, you knew one thing for certain: the music you had created together was only the beginning. And every day after this would be just another verse in the song of forever that you and Chanyeol were destined to write.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 7: The First Song

The night had fallen softly around you both, the house bathed in the warm, golden light of a lamp in the corner. Chanyeol was curled up next to you on the couch, his head resting on your shoulder, while you flicked through an old photo album. The evening was simple, a calm moment to unwind from everything the music, the fans, the constant busyness of life.

You came across a picture of yourself and your best friend from years ago, and for some reason, it made you smile. You held the photo out to Chanyeol, who leaned over to see it.

“Who’s this?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You laughed softly. “My best friend from high school. We were inseparable. I think we both secretly wanted to be in a band but were too shy to do it on our own.”

Chanyeol grinned. “So this was before the world knew you could sing?”

“Definitely,” you replied, chuckling. “I was terrible back then. I would hide my guitar in my room whenever anyone came over, especially guys.”

“Oh? Hiding your talents, huh?” he teased, his finger brushing over the album’s edge. “So… what did happen to make you finally pick up the guitar and sing for real?”

You sighed, settling deeper into the couch, your mind drifting back to a time that felt so far away. “It was the summer before I left for college,” you said softly. “I’d been dating someone at the time my ex. He was sweet, but we were too different. And I guess... I realized I wasn’t who I wanted to be with him anymore. I wrote that song for him because I couldn’t find the words to say it out loud. The breakup... it was messy. But that song? It was my way of letting go. I just never thought I'd sing it for anyone else.”

Chanyeol’s gaze softened, his hand coming to rest on yours. “What was he like? Your ex?”

You paused, reflecting on the past with a bittersweet smile. “He was great. Smart, driven, kind. But... we just weren’t in sync anymore. He was so focused on his future, and I was just... lost in my own head, trying to figure out who I was. We tried to make it work, but sometimes love isn’t enough when the connection fades.”

Chanyeol nodded quietly, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand. “I get it. I really do. It’s hard to be with someone when you’re not even sure who you are yet.”

You looked down at your fingers, thinking about those years. “That’s the thing, Chanyeol. I didn’t even know who I was until I picked up that guitar and started writing my own songs. It felt like the music was the only thing that understood me, that could express everything I couldn’t say. And then... well, I met you.”

He smiled, his hand gently squeezing yours. “And I’m glad you did.”

You looked at him, your heart swelling. “I still remember the first time we met, actually.”

“Oh, this is a good one,” Chanyeol said, leaning back a little. “You were the one who walked right into my practice room and looked at me like I was a bug. I’m pretty sure you didn’t even notice my band at first.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Okay, to be fair, you guys were in the middle of playing an awful cover of ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine.’ You couldn’t even hit the high notes. I had to leave.”

Chanyeol grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Hey, that’s a classic! I’ll have you know, I totally hit those notes... once.”

You chuckled. “Well, if you say so. But then, when I came back the next week to listen to you all again, you were so much better. And you...” You paused, remembering that day. “You were sitting there, by the piano, with that goofy grin on your face when I walked in. I didn’t even realize it was you until you started talking.”

He looked at you, amused. “I remember thinking, ‘Wow, she’s not even looking at me, she’s so focused on my bandmates.’ But when you smiled at me? I swear I thought my heart stopped for a second.”

You shook your head with a soft smile. “I don’t even know why I came back after that first disaster. But something about you... there was this energy, this pull. You were different.”

Chanyeol’s expression softened, his fingers gently lifting your chin so you were looking directly at him. “I think I knew the moment I saw you. You were this beautiful, creative, determined person who had a spark in her eyes. And all I wanted was to know more. I knew we’d make music together.”

You blinked back a wave of emotion, your chest tight with the memories. “And we did. We’ve made so much music together. But, Chanyeol… what if we hadn’t met? What if I had never walked into that practice room?”

He smiled, the corners of his mouth curving upward. “It wouldn’t have mattered. Because it was always going to be us. Our paths were meant to cross. The universe just needed a little nudge to bring us together.”

You grinned, leaning into him, and his arms instinctively wrapped around you, pulling you close. “I guess so,” you whispered, breathing in the scent of him. “And now, here we are. Together.”

He kissed the top of your head softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Together. Always.”

And for the first time in a long time, you felt complete. The past, with all its brokenness, had led you to this place. To him. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Chapter 8: Final Chapter, Echoes of the Past

The glow of the moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room as you and Chanyeol lingered on the couch. The air was warm, comfortable, wrapped in the kind of quiet that comes with being completely at ease with one another.

Chanyeol shifted slightly, adjusting his position so that he was leaning against the armrest, his fingers still tangled with yours. His voice broke the silence as he spoke in a soft, thoughtful tone.

"Do you ever wonder about the what ifs?" he asked, his eyes locking onto yours. "Like, if things had gone differently, if we’d never met… would we have turned out the same? Would we be who we are now?"

You looked at him, tracing the outline of his hand with your fingers as you thought back. "I used to wonder about that all the time. Before we were together, I couldn’t stop thinking about the 'what ifs' in my life. The what ifs of the past, the choices I’d made, the paths I didn’t take. But now… now I don’t think about it much."

Chanyeol tilted his head, his curiosity piqued. "Why?"

You smiled softly, the memories beginning to surface like a quiet stream. "Because the what ifs don’t matter anymore. It’s the here and now that counts. And if I’m being honest... if I didn’t go through all of that, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I wouldn’t have met you."

Chanyeol's expression softened, his gaze growing tender. "You’ve always been strong, Y/N. Even when you didn’t realize it. It’s one of the first things I noticed about you."

You chuckled lightly, remembering the way you first saw Chanyeol. “I remember the first time I noticed you too. You were so… you. I didn’t know how to take you at first. You were so different from everyone I’d met.”

He laughed, leaning forward slightly, his eyes mischievous. “Different how?”

“Well,” you said, narrowing your eyes playfully, “you looked like you didn’t take anything seriously. You had that careless energy, like you were always half in the clouds and half present at the same time. I couldn’t tell if you were a genius or completely out of touch.”

Chanyeol grinned, clearly pleased with the description. “And now?”

“Now?” You paused for a moment, your lips curling into a smile. “Now I think you’re a genius who’s also a little out of touch. But in the best way possible.”

He chuckled and leaned back again, his fingers absently brushing through your hair as he grew reflective. “I was so nervous around you when we first met. You probably didn’t know, but I was.” His voice was soft as he continued, almost like he was unraveling a part of himself he’d kept hidden. “I was afraid you’d think I was just some dumb guy in a band who couldn’t even talk to a girl properly.”

You turned to him, your heart softening at his words. "You? Nervous?"

He nodded, a faint blush creeping over his cheeks. “Yeah. I didn’t know how to approach you. You were so different from anyone I had ever met. You weren’t fawning over us, the way most girls did. You didn’t even look at me the way they did. I didn’t know if I should be worried or if you just didn’t care."

You laughed softly, recalling the memory. “I didn’t care. Not at first, anyway. I was just... lost in my own world. I had no interest in being distracted by some guy in a band. I had enough going on with my own life.”

Chanyeol’s smile deepened as he gazed at you. “That’s what I liked about you, though. You didn’t look at me the way others did. You looked at me like I was just another person. You weren’t impressed by what I did or who I was. And that made me want to impress you.”

You paused, a wave of warmth flowing through you at his words. "But... did you ever think we’d end up here? Together?"

He shook his head, the smile never leaving his lips. “Honestly? No. I didn’t think I was even your type. But I knew I wanted to get to know you. I had to.”

You leaned back into the couch, looking up at the ceiling as memories flooded your mind. It wasn’t just the little moments with Chanyeol that made you realize your connection it was the unexpected ones, the memories that shaped who you became as a person before him. Those were the moments that now felt like a puzzle piece that fit perfectly with your life together.

“Do you remember that one night, when we went to that tiny music bar?” you asked, your voice soft as you recalled the memory. “The night we played our first song together. You were so nervous. It’s hard to imagine now, isn’t it?”

Chanyeol laughed quietly, leaning his head back as he recalled it. “Yeah, I was terrified. I kept worrying about whether we’d sound good. I wasn’t sure if we were ready. But you just told me to trust the music.”

You smiled at the memory of that night the way you had taken the lead, even when you were both nervous. You had never felt more in sync with someone before. “And you were amazing,” you said, your voice full of admiration. “You played so effortlessly, like you’d been waiting for that moment. It felt like the whole world stopped when we sang.”

Chanyeol's gaze softened, and for a moment, the world outside your cozy little living room seemed to vanish. “I don’t think I ever told you this, but when we were singing that night, I felt something. Like… like everything finally made sense. Like I was home with you.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and the emotion in his voice made the room feel smaller, warmer, like it was just the two of you. “I felt the same way. Like I had finally found something that made me feel alive.”

His hand found yours again, and he squeezed it gently. “You and me, Y/N, we’ve always been meant to create something special. I just didn’t know how deep that connection would go.”

You glanced at him, his eyes full of sincerity, and something clicked in that moment a realization of how far you had come from that first song, from that first shy interaction.

“I think we’ve always known,” you whispered. “Maybe we didn’t say it then, but we knew. It was just a matter of time.”

The night stretched on, but now the silence felt peaceful, filled with understanding. You leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his presence, knowing that every moment, every memory, led you to where you were meant to be together.

[foliejpg]

i love yr new fic and i cant stop thinking about the aftermath. i imagine joe would naturally be distraught at first but then confused; he didn't know pete and patrick were neighbors? pete said it was nice to meet him at that korean place? or maybe they didn't know they were neighbors either. he'd tell the police about patrick's stalker, figuring that patricks crazy ex must have poisoned then, only for the police to say actually we have no evidence of a murder or even a stalker. there's no signs of forced entry or a struggle. the poisoned food they ate was cooked by them at the apartment and there were no fingerprints found on the pots/bowls that did not belong to either of them. they've talked to patricks ex and he wasn't even in the state. they did find a bunch of notes like joe mentioned but they were in a box packed with his things that patrick was planning on taking. not only that, patrick was writing songs with them.

it's eventually ruled that the two died by their own hands in a suicide pact. the notes match pete's handwriting and the last note must be their suicide note. the two died side by side, facing each other like the lovers of valdaro. pete had a well documented history of mental illness and though patrick never received medical attention, by all accounts, he was acting incredibly withdrawn, paranoid, and seemingly irrational - they need only to look at what he did to his own bathroom to find evidence of that. they were in a consensual relationship that ended terribly due to their respective mental disorders.

and as much as joe refuses to believe it, the two's family do and their moms get in contact with each other, trying to support each other through the sudden and unexpected losses of their sons. patrick's mom thanks joe at his funeral for being a good friend to her son because she thinks joe was the only one patrick trusted enough to tell him about his 'stalker'. joe only feels worse. pete's mom lets him look through pete's things and help pack them up, thinking it will help them all move on. it's weird because neither patrick nor pete have any pictures of themselves together.

he doesn't know why, but joe secretly pockets the hard drive and USB stick he comes across in a drawer. at home, he connects them to his laptop, and for a moment believes he's going to finally find closure. but despite clear physical signs of wear, the USB stick is wiped clean. the hard drive, however, is encrypted and requires a password. joe is left with a sick feeling in his stomach. he wonders how well he really knew pete and patrick

as far as i’m concerned, this is all 100% canon and true and beautiful. joe becomes more and more distrustful of the people around him and keeps the notes and notebook from patrick’s backpack for years, torturing himself by reading them over and over looking for any kind of truth or reason why he lost two friends so tragically

really he hope he can’t figure out the password, for the sake of his own mental health, since nothing worth encrypting like this is ever a good secret, but he’s got an awful feeling that whatever is on it is going to shed light on what happened. poor joe he didn’t ask for any of this he just wanted to help his friend

also i’m so touched by this thank you for sending me this it’s all completely canon

[hi-imlooneybirdie]

The Surprise Meeting.. PT. 2

A SMG-EØ fic created by @hi-imlooneybirdie

inspired by lores-cool-stuff/libbytwq

(I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN A CHARACTER THAT IS MUTE BEFORE SO PLEASE DO NOT JUDGE ME)

———————————————————————

The 4 meme guardians, Meggy, and Mario started walking through the internet graveyard, the only sounds being heard were their footsteps. As they approached the USB Pod, 2 and 1 were concerned about the new meme guardian being inside the pod. Mario was the only one who wasn’t too nervous about the new USB pod landing, as he thought 4 and 3 would take care of it, like they took care of SMG0 and Niles. They soon came across the pod, but it was a different style from the other guardians. It was a light blue color, or should I say a light teal color, and contained two arrows pointing to two different sides of the USB. Four quickly noticed that the pod look more scratched up and damaged.

SMG4, walking towards the pod: “Wait, do you guys know how long this has been here.?”

SMG2 and SMG1 looked at him with confusion

SMG2: “ I don’t know? I just came across it a few days ago when me and One visited Three’s cafe?”

SMG4 started to look at the pods condition. It had been beat up and its color had been scratched in different places. There was also a dent in its metal connector. It was if a child had picked it up and started playing with it in some sort of sandbox.

One walked towards the USB to try and open the door. He knew the door was automatic, and would lift up whenever there was motion, but it never did.

SMG1, putting his hand on his chin: “Weird.. the door usually opens by itself..”

SMG3 walked up next to him and tried to manually lift up the door with his hands. Meggy soon did the same and the two struggled to open it.

MG: “HRGGHH. IT WON’T. OPEN.”

SMG3: “WHY IS THIS. SO HEAVY.”

the two of them soon let go of the door

SMG3, sweating: “Yeah I give up. This shit is made of titanium. Let’s just leave it alone.”

SMG2: “And risk the fact that someone evil could get their hands on it and use it for bad things? Yeah no. I’ll try to open it”

Two walked up to the pod and summoned two Heavy’s to open the door. The door then suddenly opened, sending both Heavy’s flying through the air. The group looked inside and saw a faint green light inside.

MG: “Yeesh, whoever lives here must hate the sun.”

SMG4: “It will probably light up as soon as we step in. And if not, Mario’s got a flashlight in his hat somewhere.”

SMG1: “Let’s not go running in there in case this new meme guardian is dangerou-“

Mario then gasped as he saw a faint silhouette of a plate of spaghetti on the floor

MR: “HOLY SHEET!”

He then godspeeds inside the pod while Meggy follows in pursuit

MG: “MARIO COME BACK HERE!!”

The rest of the gang then follows the two, who had just ran in. As the lights in the pod turn on, they clearly see whats happening inside. All of the walls are covered in different sketches and paintings of seperate events during the SMG4 Crew’s time at their new castle, and before (THIS TAKES PLACE AFTER IGBP, AFTER THEY KICKED MR. PUZZLES ASS IN PUZZLEVISION, BUT BEFORE THE MEME FACTORY). Three and Four look at the pictures in both shock and confusion. Three picks up a sketch that has been dropped on the floor.

SMG3: “This is.. this is the time when we met the Watermelon Man..?”

SMG4, holding up another sketch: “And this one.. was when Mario stole your notebook..”

MG, grabbing a painting: “And this one is when… we went into the into the basement..”

MR, pointing to one: “What about this one? Where we were in that’a cowboy simulation?”

SMG1 and SMG2 looked at each other. They both saw one that shook them to the core. The time when they fought Niles.

SMG1: “How could someone know all of this information.?”

He showed the picture to Four, Three, Meggy and Mario. The 4 of them were also shaken by the picture.

SMG3: “Its like someone was spying on us while we did all of these events!?”

SMG4: “And the pencil strokes are relatively new.. like this one!”

Four spots a new drawing. It’s a drawing the whole Smg4 gang kicking Mr. Puzzles and fighting him. His tv head has X’s around his eyes, presumably meaning that he’s dead. The picture also shows that its raining. Each of the gang has their signature weapons as well, Meggy with her splat gun, SMG3 with his bombs, SMG4 holding Luigi (the meat mallet), Bob with his guns and Saiko and Boopkins with their hammers. All of them are drawn from a 8 year old’s type of handwriting. But another character stands out, someone with a brown hair and a ponytail. This person wears green and is smiling in the picture, but nothing creepy, just a normal smile that shows that shes happy to see this whole fight happening. It’s unsettling towards the group, and they want to stop looking at all of these drawings and just leave.

MG: “I think I’m going to head out. I can’t deal with this info all together. Like how sick does someone have to be to stalk us?? Like look at this!”

Meggy holds up a drawing that looks like Three and Four kissing. Four starts blushing, while Three starts blushing but gets angry.

SMG3: “HEY THATS PRIVATE! NOBODY NEEDS TO KNOW THAT!!”

Mario and Meggy both smirk.

Mario, teasing: “Wow Three, I didn’t know you guys were in that part of your relationship~”

SMG4, butting in: “N-NO WE’RE NOT! WE JUST…HOLD HANDS THATS ALL!”

Suddenly, theres was a noise behind them. SMG1 and SMG2 whips their heads around to see a stack of papers scattered on the floor.

Mario, pointing out: “Theres someone here..”

Meggy whips out her splat-gun and starts pointing it towards the corner of the room where the papers fell.

MG: “If you’re there, show yourself! Unless you want your eyes to burn with orange paint!”

The figure peeks at Meggy but steps back for a second. It then turns around to grab something, but Meggy is still standing guard to make sure this person isn’t doing any funny business. It starts walking towards the dimmed green light that is overshadowed by the other bright lights. The figure is shown to have wild brown hair with streaks of light purple kept up in a ponytail. She is shown to have heterochromia eyes, as one is brown like her hair, and the other is a deep red. Her matching hat and rolled up long sleeved shirt are both the color of teal. Her overalls are a washed out dark blue and she has brown shoes on. The logo on her hat was a white patch with the letters ‘EØ’, the zero being crossed out similar to SMG0’s logo. She walks up holding a black sketchbook with a bitten pencil in her hands. SMG1 and SMG2 both gasp in sync as they have a realization.

SMG2: “Wait a minute… are you.?”

SMG1: “SMG..E?”

The figure shrugs her shoulders. Meggy holds down her gun to let the SMG’s ask the new guardian more questions.

SMG4: “You look really familiar.. I can’t put my finger on it.”

Three questions Four with his statement,

SMG3: “What do you mean she looks familiar to you?? Did we kick her ass in an arc or something?”

SMG4: “No no, its not that. Its like we’ve seen her with someone else before.”

SMGE (?) looks at the two with wide eyes, realizing that she’s been caught. She walks over to grab something else, but Meggy yells to stop her. She puts her weapon in front of SMGE (?) to block her path

MG: “Whoa whoa. Hold on a moment. You need to answer our questions here. The silent treatment won’t work on us for so long, so who are you and how did you get here?”

All of a sudden, before SMGE (?) could start talking, a loud roar came from behind her. She looks back and sees a huge dragon had emerged from the dark corner. The whole group looks at the dragon in fear as it starts to stand tall to scare the rest of them. The four meme guardians promptly stand in front of SMGE (?) to shield the group, but the newer guardian runs, grabbing her sketchbook, and leaping on the dragons head. The rest of them group decides to make a break for it and starts running for the door. Although they all made it out safely, straight away they soon hear the dragon roaring and screaming. In that same moment, a huge poof sound can be heard and E walks out of the pod, sighing of relief.

SMG3: “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!”

SMG2: “How did you even get rid of that?”

E opens her sketchbook to reveal a page of a drawn out dragon on it. The exact same that was inside the pod a second ago. The page now has in new written letters “DO NOT REVIVE!! TOO DANGEROUS FOR MEME GUARDIANS!” She tries to shake it off but the rest of them aren’t too happy.

MR: “That huge dragon could have hurt my brother if it got out!”

MG: “It would have ruined our castle as well!”

SMG4: “Well at least its gone now!”

SMG1: “But you know SMGE, you still haven’t answered our questions either. I don’t even know how you managed to put that huge dragon in this small book?”

He takes the book from SMGE (?) and him and Two starts flipping through the pages. Some of them contain sketches of food like ramen or pizza, and others would have small animals and different fidget toys. E then takes out a black box from her overall pocket and turns it on with her thumb. The button turns a bright blue and it starts saying words that form into a sentence.

SMGE (?): “Actually.. my name is SMG-EØ.. you guys are getting it all wrong here.. I wasn’t stalking you, and I wasn’t trying to kill any of you guys.”

Four looks at her and starts asking more questions

SMG4: “Wait. Are you mute? Like you can’t talk at all? Or are you just messing with us.”

SMG-EØ looks at him with surprise and starts putting her thumb on the box again to speak.

EØ: “I can talk, but its in words you can’t understand and it hurts my voice to do it anyways..”

The group stops to listen further as she continues

EØ: “You’re also right Four. I think we have met before. I don’t think you want to remember me at all..”

———————————————————

TBC..

[mid0khan]

📖

I'm so very sorry it took me so long to answer, I had forgotten my USB stick when leaving for the holidays... But now I'm back home with time, so here is your snippet ^^

For this fic, I had literally only written the very first sentence, so this is the introduction of what is to become a (probably kinda long) one shot.

John Hathaway was furiously scribbling, noting everything he could despite the lack of light. He had never seen an occult summoning; in fact, he had never believed in magic until his need for hope had overpowered his rational mind. But his newfound faith didn’t stop him from being curious. He was a scholar at heart.             The Magus was reciting a spell as his followers repeated the same sentence, again and again and again. At least their part was easy to write down. John used the pauses between Burgess’ calls and offerings to try and doodle the binding circle painted in the middle of the room in his notebook. It was incomplete, he couldn’t see much of it from his spot next to the young Burgess, but he guessed he could have a full view of it once their guest would be caught inside.             The Magus dropped a pristine white feather in the circle, and suddenly wind blew in the basement. There was a whisper of awe and fear amongst the believers. John looked at the feather with wide eyes as it started flying toward the ceiling, missing a few words from Burgess’ feverish litany. The chanting and calling started again with renewed fervour, and John excitedly sketched the dark form he could see appearing above the glowing golden lines of the binding spell.             Just as Burgess yelled his last line, a violent gust of wind tore John’s notebook out of his hands. The book flew right in the middle of the binding circle, wide open under the creature. The being started whimpering as it was slowly sucked inside the pages, his clothes dissolving in a thin powder around him when it touched the paper. A bird suddenly escaped from the dissolving cloak, flying out of the basement with a panicked caw. With a last cry, the creature disappeared in the book. The wind died down as quickly as it had picked up, and a deafening silence filled the room.             “Whose book is that?” Burgess bellowed, making the crowd around him flinch. The believers hurriedly shifted, opening a way between the irate sorcerer and John. “You!” Burgess seethed, the furry in his eyes causing the professor to shake in terror. “Sykes!”             “Yes, Magus?” a believer answered, bowing respectfully in front of Burgess.             “Take care of him.”             “Right away, Magus.”             Sykes barked an order and John was seized and dragged out of the basement. His pleas and cries fell on deaf ears.             John Hathaway was never seen ever again.

[lydskisses]

🌟 PO (Part 2) - Genshin Impact 原神 March Official Merch🌟

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・(90p) Faruzan Chibi Can Badge (6-pc Set) SGD$28/set

・(34p) Faruzan Multi Pocket A4 File SGD$12.50/ea

・(48p) Yelan Quicksand Acrylic Coaster (Dia: 10cm) SGD$16.90/ea

・(69p) Aranara Figure (Random) SGD$19.90/ea

・(621p) Aranara Figure (Complete Set of 9) SGD$145/ea

#genshin #genshinimpact #mihoyo #hoyoverse #原神 #genshinmerch

[backpackemporium]

Price: 39.99$, frequent sales

Pockets: Seven Pockets One main compartment. One laptop pocket. Two front zip pockets, notebook size. Two mesh water bottle pockets on sides, accessible when expanded. One back pocket, can be used to store straps or can fit folders and papers. Material: Polyester, Waterproof and Scratch Resistant Size: 16”H, 12.2”L, 1.6”W, Expands to 5.9”W. Fits 15.6 inch laptop ~5 Liters, Expands to ~18 Liters Colors: Blue and Black, Black and Red, Blue, Gray with Butterfly Print, Dark Gray, Black and Light Orange, Gray, Blue/Gold marble Pattern, Black with Pink Peonies, Pink, Black, Blue and Gray, Dark Red and Black Details: ● Top handle ● Straps can be tucked away into back pocket ● Expands to add additional 4.3 inches of width ● One additional pocket inside main compartment ● Soft lining in laptop pocket ● Luggage strap ● USB port ● Waterproof and Scratch Resistant

[still--in--beta]

shootouts to the Framework Laptop. It's not perfect but it's built to be repaired, upgraded, and replaced. The ports are hot swappable! You can have four USB C ports, add a HDMI, put an SD card reader in there... I love mine.

You know what, fuck it, I don't *want* some frivolous, artisanal, lighter-than-air computer with no customizability, no upgradeability, no reparability, no ports, and a lifetime of *maybe* 3 years if you're lucky. I want a fucking great BEAST of a computer that's designed to last a minimum of 50 years, with ports up the wazoo and optional drives for every kind of media! I want modular components that you can drop in a bog for a year, dry them off, and have them still work fine! I want them to make a noise like "ker-chunk!" when you slide them into place! I want a switch that you pull to turn it on! And I don't want software that constantly forces you to get a pointless, cosmetic "upgrade" every few months either! I want durability! I want longevity! I want satisfying haptics! I want Silicon Valley to go fuck itself!

[swagmarvels]

SwagMarvels Laptop Bags: Where Style Meets Smart Protection

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At SwagMarvels, every design is built with functionality and fashion in mind.

Choose the Right Laptop Bag for Your Lifestyle

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Who says utility can’t be stylish? Our laptop bags come in a variety of materials like vegan leather, premium canvas, and nylon blends. Choose from modern monochromes or bold color blocks—whatever matches your vibe.

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[lazyscience]

If I am going out for fun, depending on what kind of fun I too am probably just sticking a tiny wallet, my keys and my phone in my pockets. But in my day carry for commuting to work via bus/going someplace via airport or train/waiting around in doctors' offices/somewhere else that I HAVE to go, whether or not I actually want to go there? I go armed for unexpected contingencies and boredom.

Pen, pencil and Sharpie

small notebook or sketchbook for writing notes to or for other people/things I might forget/doodling

Tiny pouch with alcohol wipes, bandaids, allergy meds, ibuprofen, tiny pack of kleenex, and chapstick

gum or mints

Compact umbrella in the rainy seasons, a folded up light wool scarf/wrap when it's cold (Midwest weather changes on a dime)

Reusable bag in case I have to pick up stuff on the way there or home that won't fit in the carry (eg four-pack of TP, paper plates for the work gathering, palming off or picking up unexpected garden bounty)

Small water bottle

A Clif bar or some other kind of "my blood sugar is in the toilet and I'm going to start screaming" durable but not particularly tempting food item (so it is there when I actually NEED it)

Small knitting project (like socks or a hat usually, I MIGHT bring amigurumi if I know there'll be a decent space of uninterrupted time, but usually I want something I can work on while keeping eye contact and nodding along with someone else talking, and stop and put away quickly instead of trying to get to the end of a complex repeat).

Note: knitting project also contains palm sized notions kit, which includes a tiny measuring tape, a safety pin, tiny but very sharp scissors, an embroidery needle and a bit of waste yarn, all of which have come in handy for non-knitting-related things before.

Headphones, both for music/podcasts/whatever and to signal "not friendly don't talk to me" if I'm not in the mood

Kindle (for my knitting pattern or a book if I'm not in the mood to knit)

Power bank and charge cable (same one works for phone, headphones and Kindle, yay usb-c)

Small Leatherman knockoff multi tool - yeah, laugh at my Mary Poppins bag until you're the one who needs a needle nose pliers or a tiny screwdriver to fix your glasses, your bike or your printer. It's happened often enough it's worth it.

A lot of these are things I might keep in the car if I had one, instead of on my person, but on my person is the option I have.

@ people who carry bags everywhere what do you put in them what is there to bring other than chapstick, keys, phone and maybe a tampon why are you packing a suitcase to be outside for 5 hours