#i’m really bad with time management and procrastination

[the-irrelevant-trumpeter]

ugh i hate being in year 12 and having to think about what subjects to drop or pick up and what i want to do at uni

[cherriegyuu]

so high school | kmg | part 1

pairing: hockey player mingyu x f!reader  genre: smut (in later part), fluff, a bit of angst, bad attempt at comedy word count: 8.8k summary: when you’re suddenly thrown in Mingyu’s direction, you have no choice but to stay by his side, and maybe it’s not as bad as you think playlist: click here a/n: i wanted to write a story that was light, summeryish. it was based off of taylor swift’s song so high school (i’m not that creative with names), i wanted to write that sort of cute romance we all just love. i truly hope you like it, this one is precious to me. thank you to @joonsytip for helping me with this one. please, remember to comment and reblog, it does mean the world to me and i would love to know your opnions.

< part two >

If there was one thing you hated about college, it was having to choose electives. For starters, you really didn’t want to be there. You were a good student because you had no choice, not because you absolutely loved college — not that your major was boring and you hated everything about it, but it really did seem like a universal experience to hate your chosen major at some point in college. But the problem was that taking the courses related to your major was hard enough as it was, you didn’t want to have to worry about subjects that might or might not add to what you were studying. Of course, you always tried to choose something that had at least a minimum to do with your major — Art History.

But there were times, like the previous semester when you procrastinated too much to choose one, that it simply wasn’t possible, and you had to put up with classes on Cultural Management. At first, you thought it would be geared towards galleries and the like, but it was something much more specific about public cultural heritage and that wasn’t what you wanted. At least the subject was easy enough. Just reading a few pages of Kira’s notes and listening to half of the lectures was enough to get you through with a high grade.

Trying to be a little smarter, and do something you actually enjoyed doing, you signed up for the semester’s classes as soon as they opened. You were already sitting in front of your computer when the clock struck 10 am. You chose a class that all of your classmates, or at least the ones you talked to, were interested in doing: Model Making.

It was something you enjoyed doing when you were younger. Your parents knew that if you simply disappeared or were too quiet — aka you weren’t yelling at Jeonghan — you’d be in your room surrounded by modeling clay, chopsticks, glue, brushes, and paint, or whatever materials you were using at the time. 

However, all of your dreams were shattered when you ran into Kira at the campus entrance. 

“You know, the teacher for this class is crazy. Your life is going to be hell” was like a cold shower.

After that, it was as if everywhere you went, people were purposefully talking about the subject, about how the teacher was absolutely crazy and that getting a good grade with her was almost impossible, and how she “seems to take a sick pleasure in failing students.” So when the day of class finally arrived, the first of the next six hellish months, you dragged yourself into the classroom. You chose the seat furthest away from her, hidden behind a student, and did your best to stay as out of sight as possible. 

The guy sitting in front of you turned around. He was smiling widely. You weren’t sure if he was trying to be friendly or what. 

“Do you know if what everyone’s saying is true?” 

There was something about him that was familiar. You obviously knew who he was, it was no secret. Everywhere you went, people were either whispering about him or there was a picture of him and the other guys on the team taped to the wall.

Kim Mingyu, star of the ice hockey team. The youngest to become captain, top scorer, the big sensation who would lead the university to the long-awaited championship. All that blah blah blah about the chosen athlete, and the latest savior of the nation.

So yes, you knew who he was, there was no way you couldn't know. But at that specific moment, while he was sitting in front of you, his body turned in the chair at a strange angle because he was obviously too big for that tiny chair, there was something about him that was strangely familiar.

"That the teacher is crazy?" he nodded, his eyebrows slightly arched and his lips almost forming a pout "I haven't heard anyone say otherwise, so I have no choice but to believe it."

You lowered your eyes and focused on the lit screen of your cell phone, which showed a new message from your brother. You didn't look away because you wanted to know what Jeonghan wanted, as far as you were concerned his message would only be read at the end of the day, if that. You didn't want to keep looking at Mingyu when you felt that everyone in the classroom was looking at you.

You knew it wasn't exactly true, there was no way an entire class, full of students talking to each other, could be looking at you at the same time as if you were doing something scandalous or even remotely wrong. But you knew there were a few people, and that was more than enough. It was a very familiar feeling, one you preferred not to revisit.

Even though you completely ignored Mingyu's presence or his gaze on you, he still hadn't turned around. Not even when the teacher entered the room and everyone fell silent.

The problem with being a child who didn’t have many experiences is that you become a fearful person. Everything seems big, larger than life, and sometimes everything seems infinite and far beyond reach. It’s a much easier choice to retreat into that familiar corner and pretend the world outside simply doesn’t exist. The bubble you created for yourself was small and admittedly, sometimes suffocating, but it was also comforting.

But everything can change when you meet people who aren’t aware of that bubble, or who didn’t create those spaces for themselves. They weren’t trapped inside it.

One class was more than enough to start a crack in your perfectly intact bubble. A selective introvert, as you liked to say. For a loud hockey player when he was surrounded by his friends, Seokmin was strangely shy.

When the teacher was choosing the pairs, you closed your eyes, praying to anyone who would listen not to pair you with a bad student, someone who wouldn't do anything and you would have to do all the work alone. The prayer, or whatever it was, was not heard because the teacher decided it would be a great idea to pair you and Seokmin. Maybe you were under the wrong impression, falling into the old suspicions and stereotypes, but you doubted very much that you would be able to get any kind of help from Seokmin.

And to be quite honest, after a bad experience with a group mate, to the point of ending up at the police station, because the guy simply couldn't accept the fact that you taking his name off the work was completely his fault and you simply didn't think it was fair that you did everything alone and he still got a good grade, you were okay with doing everything on your own. You were sure that if you opened your email, and clicked on your spam box because God was a witness to the number of emails you had received from that idiot, there would probably still be some unread emails from him, bragging that even with your “attempt” to jeopardize his education, he had managed to get a good enough grade to pass the class. 

Despite everything, Seokmin was nice and seemed interested enough, although a little lost, but maybe a little push in the right direction would be enough. 

“I took this class because I thought it would be easy,” he said laughing, a little shy, “I guess I was wrong.” 

You nodded, absentmindedly turning the page of your notebook with the notes you had made. 

“I took it because I like the idea of ​​building models.”

The classroom door opened with a bang, slamming against the wall. Everyone turned to him, some girls laughing. Mingyu was obviously late, his hair still wet from the shower, his backpack inside out on his shoulder, his shirt completely wrinkled as if it had just come out of a cow’s mouth. The teacher stood up and walked towards him slowly, her arms crossed over her chest.

“He’s screwed.” Seokmin laughed softly, or as softly as he could.

The teacher didn’t have a welcoming look in her eyes, if anything she seemed to be glaring at Mingyu, and not even the best smile he could throw in her direction would make a difference. In addition to being crazy, the teacher was also apparently known for not accepting tardiness.

It was impossible to look away as Mingyu tried, without any success, to open his mouth to explain, but the teacher wouldn’t let him say a single word. You and Seokmin suppressed a laugh when the teacher looked in the direction where she thought the noise was coming from before turning back to Mingyu, who seemed more desperate by the second. He looked lost standing in front of the older woman, his head lowered like a child who had misbehaved and was listening to a lecture.

Finally, the teacher dismissed him with a wave of her hands and turned back to her desk, completely ignoring Mingyu. He finally turned back to the desks, his eyes scanning the space before finally settling on Seokmin. Or… on you? There was no reason to believe he was looking at you, none at all. When Mingyu smiled, you went back to looking at your notes, flipping the pages almost compulsively, looking for anything and nothing.

You had no idea why your heart was behaving like that, beating almost animalistically inside your chest, or why you felt a single drop of sweat run down your spine — despite the air conditioning being on and you feeling cold. You could have sworn you could hear Mingyu’s footsteps going up the stairs, despite the sound of the students’ conversations around you being obviously much louder.

“At least I got something good for being late today.”

Mingyu pulled out the empty chair next to you and sat down, his knee bumping against yours. You flinched a little and moved away, making yourself closer to Seokmin.

“Sorry,” you said to Seokmin and turned to Mingyu. “Could you…?”

You waved your hand to make him move away. He looked confused for a second until he pushed the chair further away from you. On the other side, Seokmin covered his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh, while Mingyu glared at him.

“The teacher who chose your group?” Seokmin asked, still trying to suppress a laugh.

“She just said to sit with whoever wasn’t already in a trio”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Great, you were stuck with two jocks who had probably hit their heads on the ice so much that their brains had turned to jelly in their early twenties.

“What do we have to do?”

“Build 3 models based on architectural periods.” When Mingyu widened his eyes, you added, “It’s the entire semester’s work. We don’t even have to come to class anymore, just the last one to hand it in.”

You started gathering the few materials you had taken out of your bag. The notebook and pen quickly disappeared into what Jeonghan called a black hole. “What goes in there never comes out again. If you look hard enough, you’ll find a wallet I lost in high school.”

“Look, I know I’m going to do this alone. I'll find a way to let you know the periods I chose and the artists and you guys study for the presentation.” 

You stood up, pushing the chair back with your knees, making a lot more noise than expected, which in turn made most of the people turn to see what was happening, including the teacher. 

“Wait,” Mingyu said, holding the strap of your bag. 

Not that you could get out of there anyway, he was between you and any possibility of leaving. But you thought he would get out of the way if he saw that you wanted to leave.

“I'll help, it's my job too,” with his free hand, he pointed to Seokmin behind you. “Ours, actually.” 

Despite the sincere look on his face, you laughed.

“Look, I don't want to offend you guys, okay? But the three of us know that won't happen. There will always be a practice, a game, a party, something that will stop you from doing your part of the work. I don’t mind doing it alone, it won’t be the first time, and considering I still have two more semesters to go, it won’t be the last. It’s okay, really.”

Mingyu stood up and for a moment you were sure he was going to get out of your way, but somehow he managed to block your path even more. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had always been this tall and wide. When he was around the other players it didn’t seem like it, but him standing in front of you…

“I said we’ll help” 

He took his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it, turning the device towards you.

“You know, your hands are huge, and this is a very delicate job” What exactly were you talking about?

“He’s more skilled than you can imagine,” Seokmin said. 

Once again, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. The teacher was definitely crazy, and it seemed like she had some kind of personal vendetta against you. Or was it a curse cast by Jeonghan for staining his white shirts? Whatever it was, it was a problem that, at the moment, had no obvious solution.

“If I fail this class because of you two idiots, maybe one of you will lose a hand.” You snatched the phone from Mingyu’s hand, dialed your number, and quickly handed it back. “Maybe both of you”

You put your hand on Mingyu’s shoulder and pushed him back. You tried your best to avoid any kind of contact, but it was the only solution you could find to pass.

“It’s not a matter of life or death, you know?” he said, laughing.

“I’ve never failed in my life, and I’m not going to start now.”

Mingyu pushed the door open with perhaps a little more force than necessary. He wasn't angry, but he wasn't happy either, a strange feeling somewhere in between that he didn't like very much.

That first day he had seen you in class was like he had been transported back to high school. He could almost hear you saying, in the most disinterested tone in the world, "I've been waiting for you for two hours, could we please go home?" At that time he had also felt invisible to your eyes.

But so many years later, in that classroom, he thought you would recognize him. Mingyu thought, as naive as it may seem, that despite your disinterest at the time, at least you would know who he was.

Of all the people he could meet in that class, you were the last one that ever crossed his mind. It had been years since he had last seen you, since Jeonghan's last game, when he was crowned champion for the third time - an unprecedented feat until that moment. Mingyu had even tried to beat that record, but his runner-up position in the third year had prevented him from doing so. 

He had gotten used to seeing you from afar, always the unreachable sister of his captain, who always seemed to be much more interested in the books you carried around with you than in anything else. 

The truth was that you had never even directed a word in Mingyu's direction. Besides Jeonghan, he had only seen you talk to one other person, Seungcheol. It had never been clear to him if it was by choice or if it was because Jeonghan always said you were off-limits. Maybe it was somewhere in between. 

However, when you entered the room, looking for an empty chair, Mingyu expected you to recognize him, even though so many years had passed. When you walked up the stairs and seemed to be heading towards him, Mingyu, like a silly teenager, expected you to at least greet him. But you walked right past him as if he wasn't even there. 

Even so, he tried to talk to you. Something about the teacher being crazy and the look in your eyes said that you couldn't wait for him to shut up and look straight ahead again.

After that, it was like he saw you everywhere, and believe him, he wasn't looking for you. In the café that opened on the other side of the campus, in the library, when he went to return a book, in the hallway of the building, on the lawn. Mingyu spent five years without having any kind of contact with you and, suddenly, you were everywhere.

He chose to see it as a divine sign. As if the guy up there was saying "Now is your chance". And then, as if all these signs weren't enough, he was given the chance to do an assignment with you, almost like a gift.

"The door didn't do anything to you," Seokmin said laughing.

"Do you want to be the door?" 

Maybe the divine signal was broken, maybe the guy up there was messing with him because in less than 5 minutes you managed to extinguish any and all excitement Mingyu could have about doing the assignment with you. All you had to do was open your mouth.

“Dude, she just doesn’t remember you” Seokmin laughed again, having a little too much fun with the whole situation “If you say, ‘hi, I was your brother’s teammate’, she’ll still not remember you, but maybe she’ll be less hostile”

Mingyu highly doubted that was the case. There was a rumor that you hated everything and anything that had to do with hockey, your patience was less than zero. Jeonghan was the king of the ice, the best the sport could produce. You were the ice princess without ever having even put on a pair of skates – or so the gossip said. 

“It doesn’t bother me that she doesn’t remember me” It did bother him, but he wouldn’t admit it “It bothers me that she thinks I’m stupid”

Usually, under completely normal circumstances, Mingyu would even prefer to be seen as stupid and without anything in his head. It was easier, it prevented people from creating any kind of expectation about him. Strangely, he wanted you to see him as intelligent.

“You’re a bit contradictory, aren’t you? You’ve spent the last 3 years cultivating the image of a dumb athlete, who gets good grades by pure luck, despite the almost impossible subjects, but now you want her to think you’re smart”

“I didn’t know you knew how to use the word contradictory”

You stared at the lit screen of your cell phone. The unknown number was glowing and the inviting green button was almost begging you to answer the call. It was already the third time he had called and it would also be the third time you had ignored him.

“You know, it won’t hurt if you answer his call,” Kira said beside you, but she also knew that trying to convince you was a losing game.

Exactly 11 days had passed since the fateful class that had put you in a group with Seokmin and Mingyu. While you had no direct problems with either of them, besides them being hockey players, Mingyu’s insistence irritated you in a way that didn’t make much sense — not even to you. You should have felt relieved that he wanted to do the work, and that he was interested in participating. But the truth is that you knew how this worked, you had been in that situation before and hadn’t had the best experience.

Maybe you were a little too hard on him, it's true, but it's like the old saying goes: a scalded cat fears cold water.

“I want to keep as far away from him as possible.”

Kira rolled her eyes for what seemed like the twentieth time. She understood, to some extent, your dislike for players and also knew that a lot of it came from your brother, but in the case of Mingyu, specifically, you were definitely going too far.

“Look, the rumors are that he's a good student, actually. Always with high grades.” Kira tried to argue.

You knew the rumor well, even before you were put in the same group, in fact, much to your chagrin, Mingyu had chosen to be in the same group as you. That helped a lot with the huge reputation he had around the college. Handsome, athletic, good student. But you didn't believe it for a minute.

You didn’t know if Mingyu really had any good grades, but if he did, you were sure he hadn’t gotten them in the most… fairway.

“And he’s not unpleasant to look at at all.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes at him. Yes, Mingyu was gorgeous, breathtaking, the kind of guy that made you wonder if he was even real. You had eyes and they worked just fine, you didn’t need Kira to remind you that he was handsome. Saying Mingyu was handsome was like saying the sky was blue, obvious, and expected.

“You know I don’t mess with athletes.”

Finally, Mingyu had given up on the call, but that didn’t mean he had given up completely. Your phone only had a few seconds of respite before the screen lit up again, but this time with a ton of messages.

Unknown - 11:32

hi, it's mingyu

Unknown - 11:32

again

Unknown - 11:33

answer me, I want to talk about the project

Unknown - 11:34

you said you want to do it alone, but it's not going to happen, you know? I can't leave my grande in the hands of a complete stranger

Unknown - 11:35

I see you with your phone in your hand, take my call or reply to my texts

You lifted your head so quickly that you felt a twinge in your neck.

"Shit"

You looked around the cafe, trying to find Mingyu, but most of the tables were empty and none of the people standing in line looked remotely like him. You brought your face closer to the glass, trying to find the tall, broad figure, outside, and still didn't see anyone who could be mistaken for him.

yn - 11:37

I could report you for stalking

Unknown - 11:37

crime: wanting to do a college assignment

yn - 11:37

following me around, calling me non-stop, texting me. It could be considered stalking, yes

Unknown - 11:38

again, crime: wanting to do a school project

Unknown - 11:38

also, I wasn’t following you, I just happened to see you

yn - 11:38

I already said I'll do it alone

Unknown - 11:39

and I already said it won't happen, so if you could tell me your plan on how to do it, that would be great

“We have to admit, he's persistent”

Mingyu's messages became common and also at the most random moments possible. You were sure that the only time he hadn't sent a text was when he was at the game last Friday. You knew this because you had watched the game, with the computer with the sound turned down so that Jeonghan wouldn't suspect anything. 

You hated to admit it, but he was good at what he did. Dared to say it was even glorious. It was hard to believe that a man of that size, so wide, could infiltrate the smallest spaces and score the most unbelievable goals possible. He and Seokmin together were almost magical. They still couldn't compare to the duo of Jeonghan and Seungcheol, but that was already a very high level to reach. 

Mingyu had given up on sending you texts only about work, not that you had answered any of them, but he also started asking about your course, inviting you and Kira to go to one of his games – you still wondered how he had found out about your friendship since all of your social media profiles were locked and so were Kira's.

You had to agree with Kira, he was persistent. You could even say tireless. If you were him, you would probably have given up a long time ago, choosing to let the crazy guy do the work alone. But Mingyu was nowhere near giving up. You knew this because every time you miraculously ran into Mingyu, you had to run away from him, practically having to run away from him at some point.

It worked very well for a week until one day he simply appeared in front of you. You were distracted, your eyes glued to your phone. Jeonghan was gliding across the ice with skill when the player from the other team hit him hard, his body flying before falling to the ice. You felt the air get stuck in your lungs until he stood up, clearly irritated by what had happened. You felt like laughing when you saw the name on the other player's shirt, the one who had pushed Jeonghan. Choi. Best friends in real life, rivals on the ice.

“What are you looking at so focused?” a voice said next to him.

You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest as you tried to lock your phone and put it back in the bag. You wished you had been more graceful in the whole situation, to look less like someone who had been caught red-handed doing something they shouldn't have.

“Jeez, do you have no manners?” your voice came out louder than expected, causing some people around him to turn to see what was happening.

Beside you, Mingyu smiled, pleased with himself for having gotten some reaction beyond furrowed eyebrows and a look of disgust.

“Were you running away from me?” he raised his hand and corrected himself, “Not right now because you clearly had no idea I was here, but in general.” 

You rolled your eyes and quickened your pace. You didn’t really have anywhere to go or anything to do, there were still 50 minutes until your next class and there was no time to run home and hide. Would it be too pathetic to hide in the bathroom and wait for him to leave? With your luck, he would be waiting outside, even if it meant missing a class. 

“Why would I do that?” 

Mingyu crossed his arms over his chest. For the first time in your life, you wished someone was ugly, devoid of any kind of muscles or attractive qualities. You wished he was ugly, terrible to look at. You wished the sun wouldn’t make his skin shine, you wished you didn’t find the mole on the tip of his nose cute, wished you hadn’t wondered if maybe all this insistence of his didn’t have some extra reason, besides wanting to get the work done and obviously annoying you. Of all the things, you wished you hadn’t been disappointed when you hadn’t seen him for a day.

It was ridiculous, you knew it was. But whatever it may be, there you were, your heart pounding, feeling it throb in your neck. You wouldn’t fool yourself into thinking it was just because you were surprised by him suddenly being by your side. You could fool others, but at least you had to be fair to yourself.

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

Even though you knew it wasn’t a good idea, you stood still. You knew it would only attract more attention, it was almost inevitable when Mingyu was by your side. 

“Okay, I was. I don’t want to be seen with you.”

Mingyu looked confused, his head lolling to the side as if he was seriously thinking about what was happening. The question mark was clearly written on his face. It was almost as if one was floating above his head.

“Mingyu, look. You, in and of yourself, are not the problem. I mean, in part, it is, but you know, it's that old story, the problem is me, not you.”

“I honestly thought the problem was just the assignment.” He scratched his head, his eyebrows still furrowed. “You think I'm stupid and that kind of thing.”

You took a deep breath, your eyes closed for a second. You hadn't explained the situation to him, you had no reason to, so he had no way of knowing. But you also didn't want to expose your life to a stranger, so you weren’t willing to just tell secrets you’d never said out loud.

“If I tell you I’ll let you guys do your part, will you stop following me? It’s a little weird, and maybe even a little creepy.”

Your words were honest, it was weird and creepy at the same time. It didn’t make sense. Wouldn’t it be much easier for him, and for Seokmin, to just let you do everything yourself so they could focus on whatever was important to them? In your opinion, it was the easiest thing for everyone.

But Mingyu looked like a dog with a bone. A terrible analogy, but it made sense, at least to you.

“Yes,” a direct answer, great.

“Let’s do it like this then, let’s chat via text about the artists we think are cool, which are the most interesting. Once we’ve reached a consensus, we’ll get together to start making the models.”

You took a step back and held out your hand. A peace offering.

“We have a deal then.”

If regret killed, you would have been dead and buried so long ago that you would have turned into fertilizer. Logically, you knew that trusting Jeonghan was a mistake. You loved your brother with all your heart, but you also knew that he wasn't the most trustworthy person for certain things.

If you were in trouble and needed help? He was definitely the right guy for the job. He wouldn't say a word in a judgmental tone and, depending on the situation, he would go far enough to pretend it never happened. Now, if it was a request that he considered silly, then it was a lost cause. 

Besides all that, Jeonghan liked to play pranks, and you were one of his favorite victims. Things could even get a little out of hand when he and Seungcheol got together. It was like having two completely devilish older brothers. In truth, Seungcheol alone wasn't even that bad, but when he got together with Jeonghan it was like someone had opened the gates of hell. 

Even knowing all this, you had talked to him. You knew the house was his, that he could come and go as he pleased, but thought that if you played the little sister card well enough he would let it go.

"Some friends from college are coming over tomorrow, can you please not show up at home?" you asked, making your best puppy-dog-that-fell-out-of-the-moving-truck face.

"You don’t want me to meet your boyfriend?" he laughed, looking away from his phone for a second before returning his attention to the device.

You closed your eyes. Something was going on. Jeonghan was really into his phone, much more than usual. Either some nonsensical rumor had been published, which he would have already shown you and laughed along with you when he read the absurdities written; or he had a bone in his body, also known as a girlfriend. He always got more into his phone when he had someone more serious in his life.

It was useful information to have, so you put it in a little box in your mind labeled "something to blackmail Jeonghan with later" For now it was just speculation, but it could be important.

"How many boyfriends do you think I have?" You grimaced, shaking your head. “But no, none of them are my boyfriend. They’re just some guys I have to work with. I thought about doing it here because we need space and I’m sure I’ll yell at one of them sooner or later.”

You weren’t in the habit of bringing people home. Jeonghan was a person who really liked his private life to remain that way, private. Even with Kira, who was your closest friend, you had a hard time taking her home. Not because Jeonghan had asked. He knew that if you were asking, it was because you needed to or because you trusted those people enough to know who your brother was without it becoming a problem.

In fact, you weren’t sure of anything, not that you needed them or that you could trust them. But Jeonghan wasn’t one of those celebrities who had huge photos of themselves scattered around the house. It’s a little creepy, to be honest, he had said once. So the few photos he had around the living room were in normal-sized picture frames, which his mother had put up when she visited, so they could be easily hidden. The lie about the rich brother who works in the stock market was always on the tip of your tongue in case someone could question why you lived in a penthouse.

"I don't understand what's wrong with me being here then" His indifferent tone of voice was dangerous.

Maybe it would be better to give up.

"First because I don't need supervision, the virginity ship sailed a long time ago" 

It might be a good idea to talk about something he didn't like to talk about, like your past relationships. He could joke all he wanted, but at the end of the day, he was just a guy who didn't like knowing that his younger sister had boyfriends.

"For the love of god I don't need to know that in detail" He grimaced, pretending to vomit. He was such a good actor that he had even turned pale.

"And secondly, because they play hockey. Since there's no way they don't know who you are, I'd like to not witness another fanboy" 

You knew you had said the wrong thing when you noticed that gleam in Jeonghan's eyes. Even his expression had changed when you told him that your groupmates played hockey.

Still, you chose to believe him when he said he would be out of the house all day, that he would even go to Seungcheol's house after practice — which you thought was a lie, considering the whole situation with not putting down his phone and running when a notification came in. He had gone as far as to say, “let me know when it's over, so I can come home.” That's why you sent a message to the group chat with Seokmin and Mingyu asking if they had Tuesday night off.

A part of you, a very big part, thought they would deny it and make up any excuse not to show up, but it was almost as if they both had their phones in their hands waiting for your message.

And so, the three of you were sitting at Jeonghan's huge dining table. It was the kind of furniture that existed only to take up space, you always ate in the kitchen.

“You live well” Seokmin commented.

It was funny, and almost cute, how completely clumsy he was. You had bought different types of materials to test, thinking about which one would work best. Seokmin had changed several times, the last attempt was the biscuit.

“My brother earns well” you shrugged, hoping he wouldn't ask anymore.

To your surprise, he didn't ask. Which was a relief, you didn't want to lie.

Even without looking up, you knew Mingyu was looking at you. He didn't try to hide it at all. It was uncomfortable, but at the same time, it was flattering.

You rested your chin on your hand and stared at him too. Ever since the first day you had seen him in class, you had the feeling that you knew him. You didn't know where from, you didn't know how. It wasn't from college, it wasn't from the posters spread around, or from the fame he had. It was from before, before college, but you didn't know where. You were sure he wasn't in any of the courses you took and he wasn't from your school either, there was no hockey team.

“Where do I know you from?” the words came from your lips, but it was a question asked much more to you than to him.

Mingyu simply tilted his head to the side and didn't say a single word. Seokmin, who until then had his head down, his brow furrowed in concentration trying to shape the white mass in his hands, looked up, almost startled by your words.

It was as if a light bulb had been turned on over your head. It was so ridiculously obvious that you would be able to kick yourself.

And with perfect timing, as if it had been sent from heaven, programmed to the exact seconds, you heard the living room door open. A second later, Jeonghan was in the room.

“Mingyu?” Jeonghan said, his eyes darting from side to side, trying to understand what was happening.

“Captain,” Mingyu said, smiling.

You wished a hole the size of Mount Everest would open up beneath your feet and swallow you whole as you watched Mingyu stand up and greet Jeonghan as if they were old friends who hadn’t seen each other in years.

That was obviously true.

“You know each other” It wasn’t a question, it was a simple statement.

“Yes? Mingyu is a few years younger, but we played on the same team.”

Suddenly a brief movie flashed through your head, of all the times you had seen Mingyu — or at least the times that were never erased. Mingyu walking next to Jeonghan one of the times you were waiting for your brother in the school parking lot, him at the games, sitting on the bench completely irritated by the fact that he couldn’t play and the team was losing. He was a boy who was clearly too skinny, but somehow he had become that man in front of you.

“She doesn’t remember me,” Mingyu said with a laugh.

Was that a hint of resentment you heard in his voice? You hoped not, but maybe if you were in his shoes you would be resentful too. You hoped he hadn’t talked to you that first day because he expected you to recognize him and every time after that. Because most of the time you had been a complete jerk to him.

“Wow, you saw him literally every day for at least two years.”

It wasn’t like you weren’t already embarrassed enough on your own, of course, Jeonghan, in his best big brother role, had to add fuel to the fire. You hoped your cheeks weren’t as red as you felt them hot.

If the smile on Mingyu’s lips was any indication, you were completely screwed.

“I only remember Cheol. He was the only one you let get close to me.”

It was a futile attempt to defend yourself, but it was the only excuse you had. It was also the truth.

“That’s true,” Mingyu agreed, sitting back down.

It wasn’t a big secret that Jeonghan had forbidden all his teammates from getting close to you. It wasn’t like you desperately wanted their company anyway, so it was a win-win arrangement.

“You were a pain in the ass,” which was just another shovel of dirt for someone who was already buried, right?

“I was protecting you? The guys on the team…” he tried to defend himself, feigning offense.

You simply waved your hand at him, dismissing any kind of explanation he might have offered.

“They were teenagers full of testosterone and hormones. Not much has changed, you know.”

The three of them were startled when Seokmin slammed the table, his eyes wide as he stared at Jeonghan. For a few minutes, you had forgotten he was there.

“You are Yoon Jeonghan’s sister?” His voice had suddenly become shrill to the point of echoing in the room.

The laugh that escaped your lips was partly incredulous and partly desperate. Mingyu remembered you, but he hadn’t told anyone—not even his teammate—probably because he remembered it was something you kept people from knowing. In a way, you knew your secret's safe with him. But you didn’t know if you could trust Seokmin in the same way.

“He’s kind of slow sometimes.”

Mingyu pushed Seokmin out the door, hoping he would finally stop talking. His friend hadn’t realized the discomfort he had caused you yet. Jeonghan, as always, didn’t seem to care and on some level, he actually seemed to enjoy all the attention he was getting.

“It’s been a while since someone got this excited to see me,” he said, laughing when Seokmin went to the bathroom.

Either Jeonghan hadn’t realized how quiet you had been, or he had simply chosen not to do anything about it. Mingyu couldn’t be sure of the older man’s intentions, not at that moment or when they were still at school.

But you? You were like an open book, almost begging to be read. You obviously didn’t say a word, but your face showed how uncomfortable you were with the whole situation, how embarrassed you were for not remembering Mingyu as soon as you saw him.

Without you noticing, Mingyu spent a lot of time observing you. In a way, it was easy to know what you were thinking. Of course, a lot had changed in the years you hadn't seen each other, but many things were still the same.

“He won't tell anyone about your brother.”

Mingyu pushed Seokmin again, this time towards the elevator, and turned to you, who was holding the door, your gaze almost lost.

“It's okay.” you took a deep breath before straightening your spine and forcing a smile. “Eventually, everyone will know.”

He shook his head and put his hand on your shoulder, leaning his body forward slightly so his eyes were leveled with yours.

“You have my word,” he promised, voice low “Seokmin won't open his mouth. Your secret will still be a secret.”

You nodded, but Mingyu knew the gesture was just to make him leave faster.

“You should go,” you said before closing the door, without waiting for Mingyu's response.

If he could, he would suffocate Seokmin right there in the hallway, but then the security cameras would see him and that would become a problem. He entered the elevator in silence and pressed the button for the ground floor. Beside him, Seokmin was practically thrilled with the discovery he had made an hour ago.

“When you said you knew her from your old school, I would never have imagined that,” he said, laughing. “I thought she was a girl who went to the same school as you.”

Mingyu chose to remain silent. He expected Seokmin to eventually get tired and simply stop talking, but he should have known better. His friend had too much energy to simply stop. In fact, it was a surprise that he had managed to stay quiet for two hours before Jeonghan arrived. And even after he arrived, Seokmin had remained standing in the same place. He spoke faster than ever and looked at Jeonghan as if he were seeing a god in person, but still, standing in the same place.

God knew it was almost impossible to convince Seokmin to stay still for long.

“I don’t understand why she hides the fact that she’s his sister. It’s basically the nicest thing anyone can say. Imagine going around saying ‘my brother is Yoon Jeonghan’”

Mingyu sighed and crossed his arms and sighed, rolling his eyes. Of course, he would.

“Remember that time your sister complained that a girl tried to befriend her because she wanted to go out with you?”

“It happened a few times, actually.”

Mingyu stayed silent, waiting for all the dots to connect in Seokmin’s head without him having to actually say the words. Under normal circumstances, Seokmin would have understood and kept quiet, but he was too excited after meeting an idol god to realize the full context Mingyu was trying to give him.

“That happens to her all the time. She didn’t even go to the same school as us. She really does everything so no one knows she’s his sister. Didn’t you notice there’s no picture of them at home?”

Seokmin laughed, as if the question was too stupid, causing Mingyu to narrow his eyes.

“Dude, you’re the one who’s into her, not me. I don’t care about whose picture is in her house.”

Would anyone find it a problem if Mingyu strangled Seokmin until he passed out and then took him back home? In Mingyu’s eyes, he would be doing everyone around him a favor. It would be a night of silence and peace for everyone involved — in this case, just him, but no one needed to know about it.

“Either way, you can’t tell anyone about this,” he warned once more.

He had made a promise to you and he would rather cut off an arm than break it.

“Not even to the team?”

Mingyu scratched his head before crossing his arms again, with much more force than necessary. Finally, the elevator reached the ground floor and Seokmin was faster than Mingyu to get out, almost running down the hall to the gate.

Mingyu briefly greeted the doorman with a nod before following his friend.

“Especially to the team. No one can know. It's like a federal secret, you know?”

Mingyu grabbed Seokmin by the arm, making his friend stop and look at him. He hoped it would be enough for him to understand that he wasn't kidding, that it wasn't some kind of joke.

"Jeez, so much drama."

He got away from his friend and quickly opened the car door and got into the passenger seat.

Once again, Mingyu took a deep breath, his eyes closed. Maybe he shouldn't have promised you anything, not when the promise had nothing to do with him, and when there was a possibility of everything going wrong, then he would have to bear the burden of someone else's mistake.

"Seokmin," your voice was a warning tone. He opened the car door.

"I won't say anything!" his friend almost shouted.

"You're terrible at keeping secrets," he sighed, almost defeated.

"Nobody knows that you're actually super smart," Seokmin scoffed. "I never told on you, you know."

When you finally managed to get Mingyu and Seokmin to leave, you were beyond exhausted. It was late, already past 10 pm and you had to wake up early for class the next day. At least you would fall into bed without much trouble and you were sure that you would black out almost instantly. Except for the idea that from that moment on it was likely that the entire college would know who your brother was.

You always knew that this day would come, you just hoped it wouldn't be during college, a college that had a good hockey team — well, it was almost unfair, they were fantastic — and that lived and breathed the sport. If the news really needed to get out, you wanted it to happen when you were far away from there, in an environment where few people would like the sport. Of course, you were living off stereotypes, but you preferred to believe that you wouldn't have many colleagues who liked the sport, or that if they did, they would be indifferent.

With a sigh, you began to gather the materials that were scattered around the table, cleaning up the mess left behind. Seokmin wasn't wrong when he said that Mingyu was more skilled than expected. The prototype he made was delicate and almost perfect. Working with him wouldn't be complicated at all. With Seokmin too. He was more absent-minded, but he wasn't bad either. He could do the rough part of the work and you would refine it until it was perfect.

“Sis”

Jeonghan's voice sounded behind you and you chose not to answer. You were irritated with him for so many reasons that you didn't even know where to start, or what to say to him. You had made it explicitly clear why you didn't want him home. And, although he had never necessarily liked your reasons, Jeonghan had always respected you. If you said you didn't want something, he accepted it. But this time he had crossed all the limits.

“Sister” he tried again, this time a step closer to you.

You rested your hands on the table and leaned your body forward. 

“You know, I know that I live in your house, that you’re the one paying for my college, and that all the comfort I have here is because you pay for everything, so you can kind of do whatever you want. But this is my life.” 

You continued to put the things in the box and went to your room. You didn’t close the door because you knew Jeonghan would follow you. 

“I don’t understand what’s wrong with people knowing that I’m your brother.” 

You shook your head as you sat on the bed. He clearly didn’t understand, he never had, but he had always respected it. Apparently not anymore. 

“It’s not middle school anymore and you’re not 13 anymore. Just tell them all to go to hell,” he tried to reason, sitting in front of you. 

Jeonghan’s eyes were affectionate, without a hint of judgment. He just wanted to understand what was going on, because it was so important to you that people didn’t know.

“I didn’t change schools because girls were all over me because they wanted your number. I can’t say it didn’t affect my decision and it was the perfect excuse. But that wasn’t all.”

You didn’t know how to continue, didn’t know how to say everything without Jeonghan getting upset. Because you were sure he would.

“I didn’t want to be compared to you anymore.”

Your voice was almost a whisper and you didn’t dare look up, or in Jeonghan’s direction. You didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on his face, because you knew he would be disappointed. Not because you were feeling that way, but because you never told him anything.

“The teachers always talked about how smart you were, that despite sports you always got good grades. And I remember how you were back then, and you barely tried, but you were good at everything. I tried so hard and it was never enough.”

With each word that left your mouth, your voice got lower and weaker. When you said the words out loud, when they weren’t just cloistered in your mind anymore, they sounded almost pathetic. Jeonghan had never put any kind of pressure on you, quite the opposite. Your brother always made sure that you were you, an individual different from him.

All the ideas and traumas you had were not directly caused by Jeonghan but somehow had to do with him.

Jeonghan sighed loudly and leaned forward until he could hold your hand.

“Being good at school doesn’t mean anything, it’s just school. No one cares about it after a while.”

The laugh you let out was one of complete mockery. Jeonghan really had no idea what could be going through your head, the things that had happened and were still happening. Not that you blamed him for that, he had no way of knowing if you didn’t tell him what was going on, but part of you just wanted him to pay attention. If he paid attention, even the slightest bit, he would know.

The fact that he didn’t understand was painful.

If it were just the school teachers, it would be fine. Like he said, no one cares about school after a while. Do you know who cares about school, regardless of the moment? Parents. Parents who aren't necessarily bad, just parents who think that comparing one child to another is an excellent incentive. An incentive so good that they still do it.

Deep down you know that it's not out of malice, that it's not because they want to see you down, but it's an inevitable consequence. And, in a way, they were already so intrinsic in the conversations, little notes that didn't even seem like real comments, that you were sure that Jeonghan didn't even notice them.

"Okay," you said, just wanting to end the conversation. "I'll talk to both of them tomorrow, and apologize to Mingyu."

Jeonghan nodded, knowing full well that the conversation was over and that even if he pressed, he wouldn't be able to get anything else out of you.

"I have to leave early tomorrow," he said, "but if you want, can we have dinner together and talk about it?"

"I'll accept dinner, but I'll skip the talk."

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[crackedpumpkin]

ɪɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴇ

Warnings: Mild spoilers for Across The Spiderverse, one (1) curse word, angst, unrequited love.

word count: 1, 545

[ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

In every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman.

“Right,” You snort, closing the comic book in your hands and placing it back into the pile on Miles’s bed. He glances up from the comic he’s reading, raising a brow at your sceptical expression. 

“What?” He hums in amusement, casually grabbing a candy bar from his pocket and tossing it to you. It almost slips from your fingers, but you manage to catch it just in time with a playful eye roll.

“What’s so bad about Gwen Stacy ending up with Spiderman, anyway?” 

“It’s just,” you hesitate. Would he think it’s stupid? “It’s unrealistic. I mean, it’s nice that Spiderman has a predestined love, but it doesn’t mean that it has to go by the book, y’know? It’s his life. Maybe there’s a really rude and narcissistic Gwen out there in another universe.”

“W-well, what if there isn’t? I’m pretty sure that there are good Gwens out there.” You look at him curiously, wondering what’s got him so defensive. 

“What’s got your undies in a twist?” You chuckle at his earlier words, the tautness in his voice a surprise. Leaning back against the wall next to his bed, you kick your feet up to rest next to his arm, watching him frown and shove you off playfully.

“It’s nothing.” He tries to laugh it off, but the hint of nervousness in his eyes suggests otherwise. You narrow your eyes at him, watching him rub the back of his neck as beads of sweat form on his hand. 

He’s lying. Why?

“Okay,” You choose to say instead, letting him be as you turn away. Your heartstrings tug slightly at the wistful look in his eyes when he stares at the front cover of the comic you were reading earlier, the illustration of Gwen Stacy clear as day.

You know he’s hiding something from you, something big. Ever since last month, he’d been cancelling hangouts and study sessions, and he’s always coming up with new excuses to avoid hanging out with you. During the few times you get to meet him, Miles always has a hint of nostalgia in his words, a glint of longing in his eyes as if he’d rather be with other people.

It hurts. 

And it hurts even more when you planned to confess to him last week on the rooftop, only for him to show up hours late. He called you in a panic, apologies spilling past his lips before you promised you weren’t mad. 

On the other end of the phone, however, you throw away the letter you’d so painstakingly written for him, just for that day. All the words prepared were useless, fading into the corner of your mind when you heard his voice on the phone. 

“It’s fine,” You promised him countless times, hearing nothing but hesitance in his words when he checked to make sure it really was fine. Since then, you decided to squash down your confession, constantly procrastinating the day you tell him how you really feel.

“What about tomorrow’s bio test? You studied?” You ask, turning your head to see him freeze at the mention of the test he most definitely hasn’t studied for. He smiles sheepishly, silently pleading for you to share your notes with him. 

“You and me against the world, right?” He grins, holding out his hand for a fist bump as he sits on his bed from his lazy position. 

“Right,” You chuckle, grabbing the binder and notebook from your bag and handing it to him. You watch him flip through the pages fondly, eyes tracing the outline of his face and your gaze lingering on his lips.

You and him against the world.

It's always been you two for as long as you can remember. From the day you met in kindergarten to now, even as he stands in front of you in his Spiderman suit. 

You let out a disbelieving laugh, sitting down on your bed. Shocked doesn't even begin to describe how you're feeling right now. You come home from school and decide to drop by Miles’s apartment, waiting in his room with your feet propped onto his desk, only to see motherfucking Spiderman crawl into the room and pull off his mask to reveal your childhood friend (and the boy you’re in love with).

Miles had been keeping such a huge secret from you this whole time. You're ready to punch him - to scold him even, for not telling you earlier. He’s your best friend, but apparently, he doesn't feel the same way if he’s been hiding this from you. Aren’t you trustworthy enough? 

Aren’t you good enough?

His eyes are wide and filled with pure fear, hands trembling as he hugs himself, bracing his emotions for when you finally get mad. Your breaths are shaky, eyes flitting between him and the mask he holds in his hands. Flickers of anger begin to sink in, the claws of self-doubt sinking into your chest.

But a moment of clarity hits you. Miles didn't need a reaction right now. He needs you. He needs his best friend.

"Okay. Okay," You repeat through a slow exhale, looking up at him with a nod of acceptance. You simply gesture for him to sit down next to you. He does so without a word, automatically leaning his head on your shoulder like he always does when he's nervous and scared.

"You're not mad?" He asks softly. You shake your head, bringing his hand up to plant a soft kiss on his knuckles, ignoring the slight flutter in your chest as your lips graze against the skin.

To him, the action meant little, a comforting gesture used between you both since you were kids.

But to you, it means everything else. You try to push down the way your heart speeds up when his breaths brush against the exposed skin of your shoulders, hoping he won’t look up and see your gaze filled with pure love and concern for him.

Instead, you stare straight ahead at the window that overlooks the next few apartment buildings. The sunset is beautiful, auburn orange bathing the graffiti-covered concrete in a warm glow that has you wishing this isn’t the situation you’re in now. He tucks his head under yours, and your cheek presses against his hair, watching the sunset together. 

"I'm not mad," You promise in a soft sigh, feeling him finally relax under you. He mumbles out thanks, and you merely grin, pressing another casual peck on his hand, the both of you falling silent after.

And for once in the five years that you've grown to love him more than he'd ever know, this time, you're not lying. 

— — — — — 

It's the day of the celebration, a joyous occasion meant to act as a hallmark for Mr Morales’s promotion.

But Miles is nowhere to be found. After returning from god knows where he disappeared, he returns with a girl.

Gwanda is her name. You stare at the blonde hair, the strawberry-coloured tips catching your eyes. The colour looks pretty on her. Her nervous disposition only makes you slightly suspicious, watching her leave from a short distance away after Mrs Morales approaches them.

But judging from the look in Miles's eyes after his mom talks to him, you know.

The way he looks at her is different. He's never had such fondness in his gaze with you, much less watching you walk away with such regret. So you walk to him and hand him your drink which he takes a sip from, and pat his shoulder with a reassuring smile.

"Go." 

"You sure?"

"I'll be fine here. Besides, I’m sure I can handle a few hours of distracting your dad." You chuckle with a roll of your eyes, pushing down the pained pang in your heart at his bright smile. Every fibre of your being screams at you to grab onto his arm, to never let go. They scream at you to part your lips and let the words festering in your heart finally spill out.

But even as your eyes linger on him with a hollow grin, he doesn’t notice.

And that’s the difference.

"Thanks. Hey, you and me against the world, right?" Miles grins, placing a soft peck on your forehead. You bat him away with a faint smile, struggling to keep the tears from forming in your eyes. If he didn’t leave in the next ten seconds, you’re not sure you can no longer hold back your choked hiccups.

"Just come back to me, okay?" 

He nods, a silent promise lingering in the air between you both. To him, it's a promise of return, to come back safe.

To you, it's a promise filled with desperation, wanting nothing more than for your Miles to come back to you. For your Miles to see you in the same light he views Gwanda in. To see you the way he sees her. 

Maybe he was right all along. Maybe in every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spiderman.

You watch him leave with an excited grin on his lips, taking a sip from your cup and wishing that the fizzy liquid could drown your sorrows instead.

And in every other universe, you wish it were you.

[leviraaaaaa]

“Levi!”

You barge through the door, all dramatic, gasping and panting, purposely exaggerating to get his attention. But not to your surprise, he didn’t even bother looking up.

“I suppose no one ever taught you, but there’s a concept called knocking.” He said, his eyes fully focused on the papers. His hand moving across it as he wrote. “It’s quite easy really, you raise your hand and—”

“Levi!” You cut him off, slamming the door behind you loudly. “Levi, my beloved, my savior in dark times, I am in need of your help.”

“Slamming the door isn’t very polite either. Your manners get worse everyday.”

You waved him off, shushing him. You made way across the room, where a couch sat not far from the desk he was sitting on, and flopped down face first. “Levi.” Your voice came out muffled.

“Ah yes, making yourself home I see.” He sighs.

“Levi, I need your help. Real bad.”

“No.”

“What–” You look up, raising your face from the cushions, offended. “You didn’t even–”

“No.” He repeated, eyes not leaving his work for even a second. “Please, get off my couch. Cleaning it is tiresome.”

“Levi.” You whined, impatient at his aloofness. “Levi, he’s going to kill me.”

“I’ll buy you a good coffin.”

“This isn’t funny.” You huffed. “I’m dead. Like literally. Absolutely. This is where it all ends.”

“I’d rather you not die on my couch.”

“Fuck your couch.” You flipped yourself, so you splayed on your back now. You tilted your head, staring at him. “Help me out. Please?”

Levi finally turns to look at you, unable to ignore you any longer. He frowned. “What?” He asked warily. “What did you do this time?”

“Promise me you’ll help me first.” You said.

“No.” He immediately rejects you. “What did you do? Did you get into a fight with an MP again?”

You shook your head.

“Blew up something in Hange’s lab?” He guessed.

“No. But I’d really rather it was Hange mad at me though.”

He looked at you confused, “Who did you piss off then? “

You grimaced. He was quick to conclude.

“Ah.” He realizes. “Erwin.��

A nod from you answers him.

“What did you do?”

“Ask me what I didn’t do.”

“What didn’t you do?”

“Work.” You sat up. “In my defense, it was a shit load of work. And I hate paperwork. And I kept procrastinating. And now it’s due by tomorrow and I didn’t remember until two minutes ago when Erwin shot a glare at me. And now I—”

“I’m not helping you.”

“Why not?” You demanded.

“It’s your fault. Don’t drag me into this shit.” He grumbles, scowling. “And you promised last time, you wouldn’t do this anymore. I’m not doing your work for you. I have enough on my plate.”

“Okay first of all, I’m not lazy. I was busy–”

“Ogling Garrison captains.”

“They’re pretty. And no, not the point, shut up.” You protested. “I was busy. And I didn’t come here so you could do it for me. I came here so you could go and talk to Erwin.”

Levi frowned, “Talk to him about what?”

“Tell him to give me one more day. Swear I’d work my ass off.”

“You said that last time too.” He pointed it out. “How angry is Erwin?”

You made a face. “Bad.”

“How bad?”

“He keeps glaring at me everytime I meet him. It’s the ‘if you don’t get it done this time, you’re gonna get in so much shit’ glare. It’s creeping me out.”

Levi scoffs, shaking his head. “Only you." He said. "Only you can possibly manage piss fucking Erwin off. The guy's a fucking monk, nothing affects him.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “If I had to guess, I’d say this isn’t the first time asking for an extension.”

“Err…” You ducked your face. “It was kinda supposed to be done 2 weeks ago.”

“2 weeks?” Levo looked at you incredulously. “No wonder he’s pissed. And you’re asking for more time?”

“One more day. Just one more day. Please Levi, he’ll listen to you.”

Levi stares at your pleading expression for a few seconds with narrowed eyes, considering. Thinking. Then he seemed to have made up his mind.

“No.”

“Wha—” You jerk upright. You really thought you’d convinced him.

“No. I’m not getting you out of the grave this time. Specially since you dug it yourself.” He returns his attention back to his work. “Good luck to you, but leave now. And learn a damn lesson.”

You stared at him, gaping. “Wow," You blinked you’re an asshole.”

“Congratulations for realizing that.”

You exhaled. Easy words won’t work, you knew. So, here comes plan A. Acting.

You pouted.

“Don’t look at me like that. I said what I said.”

You fluttered your lashes, all wide shiny eyes, about to cry.

“Get out before I start throwing shit at you.”

“Levi.” Plan B. Bribing.

“No.”

“Leeviii.”

“No.”

“Levi, aren’t you the sweetest, most dearest, my absolute favorite and delightful and super awesome with extra sugar on top bestiest best friend? Don’t be like that, c’mon.”

“Still no. And we’re not friends.”

“‘I’ll make you pie?” You offered.

“You can’t cook to save your life. No.”

"I'll give you hugs."

"I will slap you."

“Levi.” Plan C. Threatening.

He glares back at you.

"You do realize you could've used this time getting the report started instead of trying to convince me and actually might've manage to get it done?”

“I’ll read poetry to you.” You threatened.

Levi looks up, finally there’s a hint of alarm on his face. “No, you won’t.”

“I’ll make sure all your food touch.”

“Get out.”

“I’ll disorganize your bookshelf and fill it with those titan x scout love novels.”

He raised his middle finger at you.

“I will start telling you about all my exes.”

He cringed visibly.

Finally, you gave up. Dragging yourself off the couch, you slowly, pathetically, miserably made your way to the door. You knew that the odds were very low that Levi would actually help you this time, because he was right. You needed to learn a lesson. And it was your fault.

“Oi.”

Your hand was on the doorknob. “What?” You turned to look at him grumpily.

Levi was pinching the bridge of his nose, knitting his eyebrows together, irritated and annoyed. Like he was about to do something he regretted.

He let out a long exhale.

“Bring it here. I’ll help you.”

“What?” You asked, disbelief dripping from your tone. Were you dreaming?

“I’ll help you out. Just this time.” He grunts. “Don’t expect it again. And I’ll only guide you, you’re doing the most of it.”

Music to your ears.

“Really?”

“Go before I change my mind.” He huffed.

You broke into a wide grin, beaming up at him. “No wonder I love you.”

“The feeling is not mutual.”

“You’re the best,”

“Shut up.”

“The best. The most darling, the loveliest, the coolest, the–”

“10 seconds. I’m giving you 10 seconds.”

“Oh–” Your eyes widened. You learnt the hard way Levi usually means his time limits. “Okay, okay, wait here, wait. I’ll be right back. Just–”

And you were out the door,

“Fucking idiot.” He groaned to himself, as you yet again, slammed the door.

He wish he knew why he kept doing this to himself.

[the-moon-files]

Aaaaa yay, you updated for Linked Universe again! 🙏 And right when the hyperfixation was coming back for me, too 👀 

I was looking over your posts for LU, and if you don’t mind, I’d love to share some of my own random thoughts with you! I hope that’s okay 👉👈

After I read your “Humans aren't just round-eared Hylians?” post I have had,, many thoughts 👀 One random difference between humans and Hylians I thought about was the possibilities of varying strength,,, You briefly mentioned how Hylians seemed lighter than they seemed to Guide!Reader, and let me tell you, it was such a small detail, but I was transFIXED. I have this image of humans/Guide!Reader just being naturally stronger than the average Hylians - and it made me think of scenarios of the Reader just effortlessly hauling around two Links on their shoulders like sacks of potatoes- And them also picking up things that are supposed to be really heavy with ease! Like, Four would make a longsword, and Reader picks it up out of curiosity, expecting it to be really heavy, but it’s actually not that bad?? (Four in the background: 🧍)

If the Reader is already pretty strong (and maybe even has a profession in fighting, like a boxer or something,, [I might be projecting slightly—]), then ooo 👀 I can see there being this one time where a bunch of monsters ambush the Chain, and as everyone is fighting with the Reader giving them advice and whatnot, a Lizalfos managed to slip past everyone and sprint towards the Reader to attack them. The others are panicking because they won’t be able to reach the monster in time, but just as the Lizalfos raised its sword, one single punch from the Reader sent it flying back into the fray, knocking it into a Moblin. Reader is just standing there with their fist still in the air like “👁️👄👁️ h u h … whY ARE YOU GUYS STARING, YOU’RE STILL FIGHTING—”

In your newest post about the Guide!Reader’s voice, you mentioned how some entities could hear them, and I don’t know if he would, but I think it’d be kinda funny if Ganon and all of his other reincarnations could hear the Reader talking to Link- I’m not sure if he remembers his past lives, but if he does and hears/recognises Reader’s voice, I love the image of him thinking “Oh god, THIS guy again??” Because Reader WILL clown on him-

Dehydrated Ganondorf: *insert evil monologue here*

Guide!Reader: Uh-huh, sure, bold words for someone whose skin looks like a prehistoric riverbed. :|

Sage: *w he eze*

As I was writing all this, I had to think to myself, “Huh,, Guide!Reader doesn’t die when they fall into lava, aren’t really affected by harsher temperatures and winds, and also can swim against strong currents. They’re environment-resistant basically. But there’s bound to be at least one weakness to it all, right?” I did come up with said weakness, and I think it’s kinda basic, BUT one idea I had was that because Guide!Reader is so resistant to the natural elements of Hyrule, they are conversely quite weak to unnatural causes in turn. If they get injured, say they get cut with a knife by a Bokoblin, then that wound would take much longer to heal than it should. Any injuries that the Reader sustains in Hyrule are harder to heal (which I feel like could make some interesting angst,, 👀); their injuries would take more magic to completely heal them, or have more healing potions to drink. I also thought of the Reader being very vulnerable to any sort of poison- Like, if they get a pinch or two (or three) of strong poison in their system, they get knocked out for like two days 💀 

So basically, Guide!Reader is very resistant to the environment, possibly quite strong, but does not have any good constitution,,

[On another note, maybe it’s just a me thing, but I personally love the thought of Wind looking up to the Reader as like a big brother figure,,]

And also!! Happy birthday!! 🥳🥳🎉 As a way of procrastination, I’ve been compiling memes with Guide!Reader and the Chain because the brain rot is hitting HARD,, I can share it with you in the future if you like! /gen /pos And sorry if this is such a long post dkjfgndf-

NOT SOMEONE BEING HAPPY I UPDATED UwU

ur ideas, ur compliments, ur bday wishes, etc. hitting me like^^

Sun: Masc!Reader (he/him) this will be default unless ppl specify otherwise! , Guide!Reader, Boxer/Martial Artist!Reader

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: Most Links of the Chain mentioned + Sage (Totk Link)! No focus/centric Link

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: light cussing, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

In reference to This Post! Wait, Humans Aren’t just Round-Eared Hylians??

YOUR BRAIN>>>????!!!

This was such a yummy treat tysm for this, sharing is caring 🫶

I absolutely think Humans could be 10x stronger than Hylians, I mean if we base everything abt their universe off of Link weighing ~8 apples lmao

that means swords, armor, broadswords/claymores, battle axes, huge shields, if those weigh abt like fake swords/wooden ones back on earth to us, then i cant even imagine what canons/horses/tree trunks/boulders weigh 💀

like props on a stage weight rather than the real thing lmao

No but how many Links can you fit in one carry??

ok u got a heavier Link on your back, like Time, Twi or Wars, then Four/Wind/Hyrule/Legend (yes he’s light/smaller side, tho he may deny) in ur arms like one Link per arm, maybe 3 Links if you can like wrap ur arms around them

so like 4 Links total? well, Wind or Four r so light/small one could possibly ride on ur shoulders, so 5 LMAO??? that's like half the Chain already AHALJFAfJLL-

on another note,

I LOVEEE ganon being able to hear Guide Reader bc spent too long around them, also i originally based that off of characters who’ve shown they're meta/highly magical kinda (esp the meta part where they may have directly addressed players/broke 4th wall)

No bc Ganon would just be SO fed up by like, Wild’s time, it would literally be EXACTLY like what u said I’d imagine:

(u just playing the game and not realizing until later they can hear you)

Ganon: “ugh that blonde twink again, god when will this plan actually work-?!”

You: “eyyy, Ganon! omg, why’s he?? Hot??? damn, botw best ganon version fr”

Ganon: “you know what maybe you should just kill me right now, hero Link.”

(the thought of Ganon never being able to escape ur voice whenever Link was near him bc u didnt have a body to fight/kill, and instead he just had to deal with ur comments is SENDING ME)

changing subjects again sorry

YES!! that's the weakness/drawback I was thinking abt for Humans in Hyrule, while yes their environment isn't that effective on us, (i like to use “inside a video game” as the reason bc i think its neat)

humans are notoriously fragile in our own world already - we get sick, we get acid-reflux/throw up from bad food/food poisoning, etc.

so it makes sense we’d be more sensitive to this new environment, but even if we got adjusted,

we’re more external-proof, not internal-proof

(u know that's another reason why it works for Hylians and not Humans, we aren’t automatically healed by food, but their world does, and even in botw/totk when u have “dubious” food, its never inedible, its just useless to eat, so technically Hylians can kind of eat most anything off of that logic, like there is no such thing as “bad food” for them)

and u could take this either way tbh,

like we’re either entirely resistant to magic/dont take to it well bc our world didnt have it so potions/fairies don't work and we have to heal naturally

or just yeah, its like ur in a new country tbh, new germs/nature/food/etc. and u def cant guarantee u wont get a little sick from that

this would definitely include genuine poison!

bro the amount of WORRY the Links would feel after realizing the human guide guy who’s physically here now can barely handle their food??

Wild’s making a thorough list of what foods work for you and what don't, like safe foods to go back on, including recipes,

the way Time/Wars would absolutely be willing to take little detours/stop by towns more to make sure you have the right food you can eat,

and even tho Wild’s cooking, Sage is constantly testing for poison, like the dish itself, the herbs/plants, every ingredient needs to be extra safe even by Hylian standards (like not eating adventurous stuff like pufferfish or smth that could possibly have poison if cooked wrong/not enough etc)

that is to say, even if Wild makes a new recipe/other meal, he always has a backup safe meal to give you instead on those nights, and just way too many in general (yes he knows it doesn't buff ur health but he cant help his Hylians instincts to stuff the hurt person’s face with food ok??)

Hyrule! Is!! Losing!!! It!!!!

he has all the healing magic in the world and the one man he wants to help the most, for keeping him from being lonely on his adventure/looking out for him/being on his side no matter what, now he finds out he can’t even help them??

mans would literally keep trying to heal u til he’s drained it all out to just try and get the wound to close, if u didnt stop him

U get injured for the first time, and while a bruise/cut taking weeks to heal (depending on how bad) is normal to you, Hyrule + lowkey everyone is Freaking Out

Wounds DO NOT take weeks to heal?? They take hours at most??? Dude, are you dying-

(Wind got elbowed for that one, purely bc he voiced Sky/Hyrule/Wild/Twi paranoia out loud lol)

that is going with the version ur mostly unaffected by magic, but u could also do the human thing where we get adjusted to things over time (at least more than nothing), including food/sickness

The way All the Links just surround you or outright don’t let you come into crowded parts of town so ur poor immune system wont make u sick again 😭

on the bright side they'd all get rlly good at preventative measures like this, and taking care of sick you lol

(yes, u bribed Wind to get little bro cuddles when ur sick, it wasn't hard, he sees u as the most genuine bigger bro probably bc ur likely hte most affectionate out of all the Links)

(should I get into cultural differences between humans/hylians like humans being more openly cuddly/affectionate? like how in humans are space orcs fandom they acknowledge its unusual for us to “packbond” so easily to so many different species? and how this could possibly apply to not only Hylians but any Friend-shaped creatures across the Hyrules?? ..nah. I’ll save that for another post)

AND YES!! feel free to shoot rambles/thoughts/not even requests my way! Id love to talk abt it or just post it for the world to marvel at too lol

ohh mY God;; YOU HAVE MEMES FOR THIS?? PLEASEEEE SHOW ME????

thank you for this, srsly /pos

Peace out,

🌙

[soraontop]

II. I WON’T SAY (I’M IN LOVE)

title i won’t say (i’m in love)

summary it’s that first “oh. oh.” moment for sora. chapter 2 to ‘10 things i hate about you’ series

genre fluff, angst, slice of life ???

characters jung sora (8th female member oc of enhypen), jake sim, brief cameos of other enhypen members xx

warnings poly ot7 enhypen au with 8th female member. sora is difficult and emotionally stunted. feelings realization. implications of sora’s not so great home life.

words 3,033

note sorry im a professional procrastinator thats why it took forever 😭 this just isnt my only focus sjfndjd i focus on so many things at once lmao. anyways, pls let me know what u guys think and if theres anything yall wanna see ?? like in the past or present time !!

PREVIOUS.

ISEULLIE: sora check out this video LOL it’s hilarious

ISEULLIE: [link]

Sora stares down at her phone, the YouTube video thumbnail staring back up at her. scorpioz being scorpioz, the title said with the thumbnail saying ‘sorajake being sorajake’. Her brows furrow, eyes darting between the picture of her and Jake mid-laugh, staring at one another over the heads of the other boys.

She curiously clicks the link, and it’s a matter of fifteen seconds before she’s giggling at her phone. She never responds to Iseul until later. In her head, she can’t even hear the bustling noise of Jay making lunch for the group and her members shouts— not that she paid much mind to it, anyway. She grew up as the only girl in a family full of boys, she could typically deal with the noise. The video sends her into a whole new world of Engene made videos of the group, mostly watching the ones concerning her. Almost every video she watches includes Jake. A lot.

She’s never realized how much she really talks to or about Jake. Yes, she’s thought about the ‘what if?’ question that Jake was never in her life and how she’d deal without him. (Her answer: She couldn’t.) But for there to be so many parts to a video series titled “Reasons to Ship JakeSora” was a bit ridiculous.

A knock on her door interrupts her watching, making her sit up in shock before she quickly swipes out of the app and clears her throat, glancing around her room for anything out of place— as if that would tell on her for watching fan made videos of her and her members. Oh, she thinks she’d genuinely die if she was caught. She can never do that again.

“Come in,” she says, hoping the person behind the door wouldn’t notice the waver in her voice. The knob turns and the door opens, revealing Jake standing with a cup of steaming hot ramen in hand. She blinks. Speak of the devil …

Jake grins that stupid crooked smile, kicking the door shut behind him gently. “You haven’t eaten all day, are you going on strike?” Amusement shines in his eyes and she rolls her eyes, an automatic response at this point. He’s almost as bad as Sunghoon, she swears. He holds out the ramen and a pair of chopsticks to her.

“Just too lazy to get up,” she manages to bite back a grin as her lips threaten to twitch. She takes it carefully, blowing on it gently and looks up at the older boy. “Thank you.” She tries not to spit the words out as if they’re poison, but old habits die hard.

Jake notices, but he doesn’t mention it. “Do you want to go watch a movie?” He asks instead, seemingly holding his breath for her reaction.

Sora smiles slightly, feeling her heart warming in her chest, “Yeah, what are we gonna watch?” She grabs her phone and ramen, shoving the phone in her pajama shorts for a free hand.

“I meant, like,” he waves his hand at her, fumbling for the words, “Outside. At a theater.” He then hastily clarifies, “With me.”

“In public?” Sora blinks, surprised. He wants to go out in public with her where it’s inevitable for a fan or some to catch them. Yes, they were seen in public all the time but that was when it was for a schedule. He nods silently.

Strangely enough, to her, it was more intimate to be seen out together without any staff or other members. It meant that he wanted to be seen with her in public.

For a brief, panicky moment, her heart stops at the thought.

Swallowing the taste in her mouth with a bite of ramen, she slowly nods, “Okay. What movie?”

Jake proceeds to ramble on about the movie, what it was about, who was starring in it, what he liked about the trailer. She tries to listen, she really does— but she suddenly finds his lips a lot more interesting. Without even meaning to, her eyes keep dropping from his eyes to his mouth, watching as he’d momentarily pull his bottom lip between his teeth as he thought about something before saying it.

Horror suddenly fills her chest once she realizes what she’s doing, eyes widening and a small gasp leaving her mouth. Jake, who hears, stops, looking at her in concern, “What? What is it?”

Sora’s face goes blank. “Nothing, the ramen just burned my tongue.”

Jake looks more concerned now, “Shit, I’m sorry, Sora.” He starts to lean forward and she tenses, looking at him with wide eyes as he … tries to inspect her mouth? What the hell was happening? Why was he so concerned? “Is your tongue OK? Let me see—”

Sora was already panicked with how close he was— imagine how much that tripled when he cupped her cheek and tried to urge her to open her mouth. Her heart pounding was so loud in her ears that it blocked out everything else Jake was saying. She didn't know what she was thinking, all she knew was that she had to get away from him and fast, preferably before her heart burst out of her chest.

In her haste to get away, she completely forgot about the cup of ramen in her lap and didn’t secure it before jolting up. With a painful gasp, the ramen tips over and spills over her clothes and bed. To prevent from letting out any other painful mutters, she bit down on her tongue— hard. It wasn’t as bad as she had previously said it was, but it was still warm— warm enough to hurt badly.

“Shit! Sora—” Jake bolts up after her, looking at her soaked clothes with wide eyes. “Fuck, fuck— are you OK?!” He doesn’t wait for her reply before he’s shouting out into the dorm, “Hyung! Jay! Jungwon! Sora’s hurt!”

Oh, don’t tell them that, Jake! A voice in her head groans. She never wants to worry them.

Sora faintly notices the lull of conversation from the boys outside, before she hears multiple loud footsteps rushing towards her room. She shakes her head as her door is pushed open, revealing the rest of her members crowded in the doorway. Jay pushed himself to the front, closely followed by Heeseung and Sunghoon with wide, frantic eyes.

She tries to reassure them that she’s OK, that it’s just a little spill, and a little of a burning, but nothing she’s never handled before. But their voices are overlapping, asking what happened, if she was OK, and Jungwon was rushing in with two towels, quickly wrapping one around her and putting one on the floor to clean up the ramen.

Sora blinks at the noise, getting tired of hearing the same questions so she huffs, raising her voice as she shouts, “Shut up!”

The boys shut up. Sunghoon, even in his worry, manages to raise his eyebrows and point a finger at him as if to ask, “Me?”

She breathes out, looking down at her now dirty clothes, “Thank you. I’m fine. It’s just a little spill.”

“A little spill?” Heeseung asks in disbelief, “Your skin’s red because of how hot it is, Sora.”

She looks down again, tilting her head to see the redness Heeseung claims to see. “Huh.” She murmurs, seeing how unusually red her skin was. “Well … It doesn’t feel that bad.”

“You’re going to feel it in a minute,” Jay quickly grabs her by the wrist gently, pulling her out of her room, passing by the concerned Sunoo and Niki. Her skin tingles where he grabs her, and she’s not so sure the redness on her skin is from the ramen anymore. “Hurry, go take a shower— No hot water. We’ll clean this up, don’t worry.”

“Oh, no, really, I’m fine,” Sora laughs lightly, shaking her head, “Like, it’s really not even that bad—”

Sunghoon doesn’t even bother letting her finish her sentence, picking her up and basically dragging her to the bathroom. She can feel Jake’s apologetic and worried eyes on her as she’s dragged out of her own room. “Hey!” She quickly hits him lightly on the shoulder, “Let me go!”

“Alright,” he shrugs, letting Niki push open the bathroom door and quickly shoves her in. She whirls around just in time for the bathroom door to shut in her face.

Her mouth drops open, “Sunghoon!”

“Sunghoon Oppa,” he corrects.

“You earn that title!” Sora hits the door lightly, trying to wiggle the doorknob, but it doesn’t open, “Let me out! I’m OK, please don’t clean it up, I’ve got it!”

“Already started,” Niki’s voice comes through the door, “Too late. Get in the shower before it gets worse, noona, please.”

“Don’t be dumb,” Jungwon chastises her lightly next, “You know it’s the smart thing to do.” She can’t help but feel appalled, again.

“But—”

“No buts!” She can hear Heeseung shout from her room.

Sora resists the urge to throw a tantrum like she would have nearly six years ago. She sighs, the warmth now a dull ache. “I don’t even have clothes to change into!”

“We’ll get you new clothes,” Sunoo reassures her from outside the door now.

“Don’t go through my room!” She says loudly, starting off as a shriek before she forces herself to quieten down. It reminded her too much of her old self. “Just let me out and I’ll—”

“Let you out so you can lock yourself in another room?” Sunghoon sounds somehow both amused and serious now, and she has no idea how, “Get in the shower, Sora.”

“I’ll get you clothes, Sora,” Sunoo says gently, then there was a light thump on the door. She wonders if he’s resting his head on the door like she is. (He is.) “Don’t worry, I won’t snoop or anything.”

“I know, but …” Her voice is uncharacteristically weak, “Just … Get me a shirt and pants, please. I’ll get the rest …” She feels awkward saying it, her brothers were far too young to even want to help her with anything. She wasn’t used to this, being taken care of. She didn’t like it. She also just didn’t want any of the boys going through her room and finding things she never wanted them to see.

There’s a pause, and then footsteps walk away from the bathroom door, but she can tell one or two people are still on the opposite side.

“Sunoo’s getting your clothes,” Sunghoon murmurs, and there’s another pause, “Don’t be stubborn. You know we just want to help.” His footsteps then walk away, too, and she finally relaxes, swallowing as she turns to face the bathroom mirror. The mirror is slightly still fogged from whoever took a shower earlier, and she swipes at it with her hand to look at her body clearly.

She winces at the redness on her arms and thighs, knowing from experience that it would hurt way less later on. She had no idea how she was going to explain this to their managers.

“Sora,” she jumps when she heard Jake’s soft voice on the other side, turning as if she could see him. She slowly walks closer to the door as he says, “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean for it to spill on you.”

“It’s OK,” she shakes her head, frowning to herself. “It wasn’t your fault at all, I’m the one who spilled it.”

“But I brought it to you—”

“It should’ve been on the table,” Sora says it like it’s final, leaving no room for an argument. Jake doesn’t reply for a moment and she wonders if he left, but she didn’t hear him walk away.

“Still, it must’ve hurt a lot,” Jake insists.

“I’m used to it,” the words come out of her mouth before she can even think it through. She visibly recoils once she realizes, mouth parting in shock as she starts to frantically look around as if it’d give her an excuse on why she said that. “I— Uh—”

“What do you mean?” Jake asks, his tone being mixed of confusion and cautiousness, and she can imagine him standing on the other side with that cute confused look he gets. She curses herself for somehow managing to think about something like that in a situation like this. It’s just the videos getting to her, she knows it.

Sora sighs, “I just mean I’ve been cooking for a long time, remember? My mom taught me young.” Kind of, but this time she keeps the truth to herself.

“Oh, right,” Jake laughs, sounding relieved. “You know, I thought for a second …” Don’t say it, don’t say it. “You know what? Nevermind. Just … I’m sorry, OK?” Before they can get into another little argument over the same topic, she hears his footsteps walking away.

Sora wants to scream. Her face falls into her hands, slumping against the door. Her hand comes back and lightly smacks herself on the head, “Why, why, why …” So stupid of her to be so careless. They didn’t need to know anything in her home life. That was a mistake.

Why did she feel so compelled to just spill her guts out to Jake? That was the last thing she needed was for him to know anything in general. Sure, the basic stuff about her was fine, but he, nor the others, needed to know anything about her home life. She knew they’d overreact, and she just wanted life to slow down a bit so she could catch her breath.

Forcing herself off the door, she sighs loudly and starts the cold water.

Sora really can’t understand why she’s doing this to herself.

She really does try her best to not avoid Jake the next few days, she doesn’t want him thinking she blames him for the spill, but she also just … needs space. Every time he touches or jokingly flirts with her, even when he just talks to her or says her name, her heart starts pounding and her face gets warm. She’s tired of it, and needs a break. So if she stays close to Sunoo or Heeseung for the majority of the next week, he doesn’t think anything of it.

It’s the middle of the week, and ENHYPEN are at dance practice, already practicing for their first comeback despite still in the middle of promotions for Given-Taken. Sora is ever so unsuspecting, pushing her hair back up with a ponytail as the only sound in the room was her and her members’ loud out of breath panting. The choreographer claps once, “Good job, guys. See you tomorrow, yeah?”

Sora forces herself to respectfully bow as her members do, waving goodbye to the staff and choreographer that leave. The only people in the room now are the group and their managers, Wooseok and Hyosun, and she glances around to see that Wooseok is calling someone and Hyosun is texting. She turns to look for her water bottle that was no longer in the same place it was before, but is startled when two water bottles were presented to her at the same time.

Feeling a creeping sense of dread, she presses her lips together and looks up, finding both Jay and Jake holding out bottles of water to her. She glances between the two, who glance at her and then to the waters and then to each other. Both of their hands move like they’re going to take it back, but when they both catch what the other is doing, they freeze.

“Um,” Sora murmurs, feeling awkward as her face heats up, mostly out of embarrassment and slightly flustered. She doesn’t like the position she’s in, at all. She notices movement in the corner of her eye and turns her head to see Niki holding up her lilac water bottle in his hand slightly from his spot against the wall. “Yeah, thanks but …” She gestures to Niki, quickly grabbing it from him and starting to chug it down. Half because she really was thirsty, the other half because she wanted to ignore the situation.

Avoiding eye contact with the other members, who were watching the awkward moment, she sits in between Heeseung and Sunoo. Pressing the cool bottle against her cheek, she waits a few moments before looking back up to see if anyone was still staring at her.

Her eyes connect with Jay’s and she abruptly turns her head back to the floor, feeling her face get impossibly hot, even with the water bottle. She feels like she just got caught doing something she shouldn’t have done.

There had to be something seriously wrong with her.

“Your face is really red,” Heeseung whispers from beside her, and she turns her head to stare at him. He blinks. She blinks before turning her head back to the floor.

“Yeah, we just got done practicing,” she mutters, swallowing. She’s afraid if she stares any longer, he’ll be able to know what she’s thinking.

Here’s the thing— Sora isn’t dumb. She was placed in the top three of her class, and she was sure to get into any university she wanted. She’s also been in a relationship before, she’s had plenty of crushes— she knows. But she can’t.

Not when they’re her members.

If it were anyone else, she wouldn’t think much into it and would let it pan out.

And it wasn’t even just one of them. It was two. She really was proving netizens right. And she hated it. So what was she going to do?

Ignore it and hope it goes away. And if not, well … She was pretty sure that plan would work. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if it didn’t.

As long as she remains strictly platonic with her members, everything would be fine. She’s worked too damn hard to get where she is now, she’s been through two survival shows, and she wasn’t going to go on another one again. She would succeed in her dream.

Still, she seems to forget that the heart wants what it wants.

[bitchesgetriches]

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So I Got Chickens, Part 1: Return on Investment

Twelve Reasons Senior Pets Are an Awesome Investment

How To Save for Retirement When You Make Less Than $30,000 a Year

Understanding the stock market:

Ask the Bitches Pandemic Lightning Round: “Did Congress Really Give $1.5 Trillion to Wall Street?”

Season 3, Episode 2: “I Inherited Money. Should I Pay Off Debt, Invest It, or Blow It All on a Car?”

Money Is Fake and GameStop Is King: What Happened When Reddit and a Meme Stock Tanked Hedge Funds

Season 3, Episode 7: “I’m Finished With the Basic Shit. What Are the Advanced Financial Steps That Only Rich People Know?”

Retirement plans:

Dafuq Is a Retirement Plan and Why Do You Need One?

Procrastinating on Opening a Retirement Account? Here’s 3 Ways That’ll Fuck You Over

How to Painlessly Run the Gauntlet of a 401k Rollover

Ask the Bitches: “Can I Quit With Unvested Funds? Or Am I Walking Away From Too Much Money?”

Workplace Benefits and Other Cool Side Effects of Employment

You Need to Talk to Your Parents About Their Retirement Plan

Got a retirement plan already? How about three or four? Have you been leaving a trail of abandoned 401(k)s behind you at every employer you quit? Did we just become best friends? Because that was literally my story until recently. Our partner Capitalize will help you quickly and painlessly get through a 401(k) rollover:

Roll over your retirement fund with Capitalize

Recessions:

Season 1, Episode 12: “Should I Believe the Fear-Mongering about Another Recession?”

There’s a Storm a’Comin’: What We Know About the Next Recession

Ask the Bitches: How Do I Prepare for a Recession?

A Brief History of the 2008 Crash and Recession: We Were All So Fucked

Ask the Bitches Pandemic Lightning Round: “Is This the Right Time To Start Investing?”

[bubooo]

↬ rock candy

prev | 7 ↬ dumb | next

✧ rocking facts :

when the kiss happened, it was a friday night and yn and noya were at noya’s house sitting in his bed and watching really bad romcoms

the kiss happened right before yn had to leave so they managed to avoid having to be around each other awkwardly after it happened, unfortunately they did not speak for the entire weekend but then when they came back to school they just acted like nothing happened

yn was planning on taking this to her GRAVE but sometimes you speak (type?) before you can think

atsumu was taste-testing for osamu when this whole convo was going on

so he obviously showed the sheer insanity happening between the two different chats at the same time

crazy that atsumu and suna were in both chats watching this go down simultaneously !!

↬ a/n : drama !! i’m so sorry i took forever to get this part out imma be real i’ve just been hardcore procrastinating EVERYTHING 😭 also i usually make the facts part longer but really just needed to get this part out AGSJDG anyways enjoy the drama ig- me and yachi twinning fr because i’m literally writing the story and yn and noya are killing me

# taglist : @eujoana89 @loveelylacey @walllflowerrrsss @le000xxgrd @punkhazardlaw @csbnova @jaynawayna @hyenagoated @lvtilzs @nbcvs @nyxlai @kazunish @dawnisatotalqueen @piapiaweee3 @kuroosmikasavolleyball @empress-pug-pug @eggyrocks @keelsforreals @spicana @mfcherry @myromanempiree @beckixwsm @aboutkiyoomi @puppenpop @corvid007 (send an ask to be added !! for my sanity LMAO)

[ilyuan]

.. EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT I’M A GOOD GIRL, OFFICER !

◟⪩⪨ summary ! after finally capturing you and visiting your dorm for what seemed like eternity now, he’s realizing that he’s in love with you ; basically just a short fic of wrio being a sweetheart ^^

◟⪩⪨ warnings ! gn! reader, the title is just a reference to a song dw, wriothesley being confusing, he changes your clothes lol, fluff, no use of y/n except for once, very self indulgent, i think that’s all lmk if i missed anything <3

minutes turned into hours and hours turned into days, days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months.

that was the absurd amount of time that took wriothesley to finally lock you up.

but here he was, oblivious to your moves and acts, hiding your facade with a gentle smile, which is the reason why almost everyone in the fortress claimed that you were one of the nicest criminals here.

it was almost as if you didn’t do anything wrong at all.

tonight, the dark vibrancy of the clouds near its nightly leave, the stars beginning to take over the sky’s surface.

here he was, sitting next to you on the rough surface of the so-called “bed” that you were sleeping in, when in reality this “bed” was made of full on metal!

“how do you manage to sleep like this?” he suddenly begins.

hmm… maybe because you can’t sleep anywhere else?

“i don’t know, i used to be known for being a heavy sleeper, no matter the area.”

“so you can just flat out sleep on the grass?”

“okay, maybe not.”

he chuckled.

so that’s why everyone’s so fond of you, your gentle facade and your beautiful laughter that could be the number one thing that would top a movie off if you were in it.

as the days passed by into more interesting days that suddenly had you more motivation to even do things in the fortress, wriothesley began to notice how less awkward you were being with him, and how you weren’t as shy and hesitant as you used to be.

as soon as fun things start, they end too quickly, as well.

furthermore, some things can go bad, just like how fruits can go rotten as soon as they’re not taken care of as much.

because knowing wriothesley, he was practically the top one procrastinator in the world.

in this situation, wriothesley wasn’t really doing his job on checking up on you unless he hasn’t been seeing you in sight almost every where. sometimes, as much as he didn’t want to, every time you were not in sight near your dorm, he usually got nervous and began to scold you.

…and he instantly did what he had to do.

“where were you?” he asked in a what seemed like an aggravated tone.

“relax, i was playing in the pankration ring earlier after i grabbed food.” you replied, there you were again, acting as if everything was okay when you almost gagged and vomited at the purple appearance of the food you were served, which you practically had to gulp down in one go, if you were that hungry atleast.

and of course, there were times when wriothesley just randomly decided to be the confusing man he is and instantly switch up just to flirt with you.

he was one to make sure that you believed that he had a little something in his slightly cold heart for you.

“you still do that?” he chuckles “that’s cute.”

“what?”

…

“wanna go out today?”

…confusing guy.

you never even hesitated to say yes to him whenever he offered to take you somewhere out of the rancid mess of the fortress.

he only ever rarely did this, though.

after your little “appointment” that you had with him, you felt like you were rejuvenated once again.

but why does it still feel like wriothesley’s eyes were on you the entire time rather than just paying attention to what you two were buying in this absurdly small shop?

don’t think too much of it, though. all he wants to do is commit for his wrongdoings for you, after all.

as much as he knows how confusing he can be, he knows who you are.

he knows that you prefer cream cheese over butter, he knows that you don’t like matcha flavored tea, and he almost knows that your whole gentle facade is just an act for him to like you.

and it’s all just an act to be one of the nicest criminals in the fortress, too.

but who was he to care, when all he wanted to do was take care of you?

…and he only ever took you out to show you his empathy for you.

why can’t you just realize he’s in love with you?

on the final day, your release.

“wriothesley!” you yelp out, feeling his frozen hands pull off your dirty prison uniform’s shirt.

“what? i do this with everyone, you’re not special, sweetheart.”

now that was clearly a lie. you were the only one he had fully taken care of like this. after all, he cared for you like you weren’t even a criminal in the first place, that you didn’t even do anything wrong in the first place.

…

sigh.

“wrio.”

“i don’t wanna leave this place if it means i’m leaving you here, without me!” you frowned.

he fully knows who you are now.

that whole gentle facade you always put on quickly faded away as soon as your ego went soaring through the roof when you implied that he couldn’t live without you.

that’s the y/n he wants to see.

he chuckles.

finally.

his fingers shaking in anticipation as he clothed you into the outfit he bought for you last night when you were sleeping, he leans up to place his lips on yours.

“you won’t. i won’t leave you.”

~

@sugarmouchie - do not copy/translate/repost my works on other platforms. 🤍

[datesinredink]

Yan turtles (rottmnt) with an m/c that’s allergic to reptiles/turtles? Idk I just think it would be funny (not Donnie trying to get m/c into getting injections to help the allergy-)

ANON I AM SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG BCIRBIFUNUIEH

Super duper sorry i ended up procrastinating really hard and i guess god took issue with that because he struck me down with multiple QAs and a Feelings crisis but the tests are over and I finally managed to sit down and finish Raph's part- seriously i struggled with him and mikey a lot but i guess it was kinda worth it in the end because Raph has an entire 110 more words to his part than the other three- hopefully it makes up for my lack of knowledge of his character. Enjoy!

Donnie

“My inspiration for this device was simplicity-”

Yeah you’re getting a hazmat suit until your allergies either magically disappear or he figures out some other solution

You’ll probably have to do a lot of tests, including possibly a blood draw but I’m no medical expert- since I headcanon Leo to be the medic he’ll probably end up helping too

After he finally puts the pieces together, he’ll start working with Leo to engineer a medicine to help suppress your allergic reaction, and maybe even be able to get rid of it entirely

Also anon you’re very right, you may be subjected to becoming the human pincushion of allergy shots while he figures it out. It’s safe. No it won’t kill you. Yes he made sure. Just, uh, maybe don’t ask your best friend their opinion on needles for a while….

In the meantime, he completely hates the current situation. He finally meets someone that he’s (mostly) fine with touching him, and they CAN’T TOUCH HIM without a HAZMAT SUIT. Just the worst. Awful times.

Normally, he’d have you around almost always, but, unfortunately, that’s currently not ideal.

Starts trying to keep things extra clean around the lair for you. Also everything that can be sanitized is sanitized. Good luck in the cleanliness prison after you get kidnapped later on.

The best about keeping distance, since he already wasn't super touchy before this whole situation. While he might tap you on the arm or something once or twice, it's nothing serious and you won't have a problem with him on that front.

Going back to the hazmat suit real quick, while it does do its job well, it's definitely not the most comfortable thing to wear, and you'll probably end up getting too hot pretty quick, so chances are you won't willingly be wearing it all too often. Donnie may occasionally force you to wear it, but otherwise you (usually) just... don't have to.

Leo

He’s the one who finds out you’re allergic. It was an accident he SWEARS. He only wanted to give you a pat on the arm when April first introduced you to them! How could he have known you’d get hives where he touched you?

At least he knows how to treat it. He managed to guide April through treating it, after which he sulked while rereading some Jupiter Jim comics.

Has a personal grudge against your immune system for daring to make you allergic to him. How dare your cells get mad about him.

When Donnie tells him that he might have “a fix, bro”, Leo jumps at the opportunity- oh thank god, he can finally hug you!

…Doesn’t mean he’s not super bad at focusing on actually working on it. Don’t worry, he’ll fix it eventually, just have a little patience.

Honestly, this is your chance to BOOK IT away from them, because none of them are as clingy as they will be after your allergies are cured/suppressed, which gives you more time to leave New York before things go from bad to worse.

Anyway, Leo’s about as clingy as he can be without physically clinging onto you for hours on end. Constantly hanging around you, like a ghost haunting their killer, except you’re not the one who kills people.

He might end up using your allergy to try and manipulate you away from his brothers. Mikey keeps forgetting to keep distance, Donnie’s suffocating and makes you wear a hazmat suit, and Raph almost treats you like a sopping wet cat that he has to take care of, so why not just stay with him? 

As much as he likes to criticize Mikey for forgetting, sometimes, particularly early on, he gets a little too close, and your allergies flare up, and while he does genuinely feel kinda bad, he will exaggerate his remorse for sympathy from you. He genuinely does try and apologize for it later, and he probably portals you two somewhere nice and gets you a couple of trinkets you like or find useful.

Mikey

Absolutely heartbroken!

His love is allergic to him! This is awful!

2nd most panicked when they first find out. Is their new friend ok? Did they mess up?

If you have a low tolerance for pain/allergic reaction symptoms and cry a little he probably will too. High empathy, man…

He’s really understanding after everything’s resolved and they figure out you’re allergic to them. He tries his best to keep a fair amount of distance between you and him, but he tends to naturally be physically affectionate, so there may be a slight adjustment period. He really doesn’t mean harm though.

He occasionally tries to bring you something from the mystic city that he thinks would be safe- a small figurine, maybe a sketchbook if you also like doing art, if he manages to bargain for/steal a piece of jewelry, he’ll also give that to you.

As I mentioned before, Mikey’s pretty big on physical touch, but since that’s off limits (for now) he’ll try to show you affection in any other way he can think of

Mostly quality time. He likes to take you with him when he explores through the sewers/city to spraypaint a couple of blank walls, and he’ll probably get you to try it too, and regardless of your skill level he’ll tell you it’s great

After Donnie and Leo finish making the cure, Mikey squeezes the LIFE out of you- he doesn’t mean to practically strangle you, but he’s fairly strong and he got excited, so he does feel a little bad afterwards.

Will decorate the hazmat suit Donnie gave you if you let him. He'll put stickers on it that match his and draw fun patterns that may or may not relate to him in some way. Maybe the spots he has, or the face on his knee pads. It's pretty endearing, even if his brothers may occasionally glare at him. In Mikey's opinion, if they're really that jealous, they should add something themselves.

Raph

And the award for most paranoid goes to….

Ok but really, he’s the most overbearing about it. This probably isn’t a surprise, but it’s still something I've gotta mention.

You don’t really have to worry about Donnie making you wear the hazmat suit- he gets it, not a fun sensory experience- other than a couple stand-out occasions, but you will have to convince Raph fairly often that you’ll be fine without it.

To be fair, it’s partially because he also forgets not to touch you sometimes, and while he’s better about it than Mikey and most of the time Leo, he’s also self-aware and protective enough that he’d rather be safe than sorry.

If you’re having an allergic reaction, he’ll either get Leo/Donnie/April to help you, or go find the hazmat suit Donnie made him a while ago when Splinter got sick and then help you himself

There’s a chance he might not do great though, as he’s not always the best under pressure and tends to panic when the people he loves are hurt or in some sort of extreme situation, especially when it comes to you (seriously, he treats you like a porcelain doll), but you can be reassured that he’ll do his absolute best to make you safe and comfortable.

Feels terrible after, pampers you a lot after the ordeal. Every time, not just the first few.

If he wasn’t the one who caused it, then he’s definitely pissed at whichever of his brothers made your allergies flare up. He won’t kill them, and he won’t lose it and drop kick them into tomorrow (yet. If they ever intentionally trigger your allergies he might snap some bones) but there will be a noticeable irritation and tension for at least the next few weeks between him and them.

He’s super excited after Donnie and Leo finish the allergy shots! I personally headcanon him to be the second touchiest of the brothers (Mikey being the most touchy, of course) so there’ll be a lot more casual touch between you two after. Hugs, headpats, you get the idea. If you try to tell him to stop, he’ll be very upset, though doing his best to understand, he will try to respect your wishes.. Before going right back to it after a week tops. Sometimes he genuinely does forget, after all, he does have a fair amount on his plate, but sometimes he does intentionally wait until he thinks he can get away with it again before jumping right back to how things were before. He’ll vehemently deny it, but no matter what happens, you’ll likely never really get him to stop for an extended period of time.

[cosmowes]

Maximize Your Time

listen. if you’ll hear me out, i used to be such a procrastinator, it wasn’t even funny… i mean summative projects at 2am the day they’re due. doing homework while the teacher collected it. it was so bad.

now i’m done w/ assignments the week before they’re due. wanna know how? managing and maximizing my time.

walk everywhere with a purpose. everywhere. be the first to your classes, make it to your bus stop early, all of that. it makes you feel good, makes a good impression on people, and gives you more time.

work!! during!! lunch!! if you’re good at multitasking, do it! i usually read during lunch or listen to audiobooks, watch videos on topics giving me trouble, reread notes etc. it’s a good way to get in more practice.

keep all your assignment info AND assignments in one place. i have a folder for paper work and a notebook for assignment logs and stuff. so useful.

check ur work log DAILY. and keep it updated! if you’re a planner girlie that’s even better, but they never really worked for me lol.

keep a book, notebook etc on you. i have a mini notebook for jotting anything quick, and since my daily purse is pretty big i can fit that. if not, sticky notes or just your notes app will work.

find your unused time. when do you tend to do nothing? for me it’s on the bus. i’m working on using that as a time to catch up on reading or watch practice videos. i don’t mean when you’re unwinding or resting (cuz that’s doing something still), but other than that you can use all of your time.

one thing that helped me was remembering that the fun things i wanted to do would still be there after i was done working. your show is not leaving netflix because you left for 20 minutes.

but the work will be worth less if you put it off too long. it’ll be late and you’ll be penalized. or it’ll be bad because you rushed.

choose wisely. what’s expiring sooner?

images from pin - search red study aesthetic 📌

[onlycosmere]

What book sequel are you STILL waiting for? 

marsh642: It's been weeks since Brandon Sanderson released a book. I hope he's doing ok /s

PattableGreeb: One day I hope to be like that guy output-wise. Not necessarily in terms of volume, but like, the sheer ability to just get into it and commit without much fuss.

erossthescienceboss: I’m a writer, and deeply envy his ability to work within a schedule and use his time. Has he ever experienced writers’ block? At all? Like, I’m in nonfiction — I don’t even do creative writing! Yet so often, it’s like pulling teeth.

Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott is a great book for those of us prone to writers’ block and procrastination (I related to Anne’s writing struggles deeply, and often wonder if she has undiagnosed ADHD) but I’d love to read a Sanderson guide to Actually Writing and Getting Shit Done.

Brandon Sanderson: I'd say that what you do, in nonfiction, is a different beast than what I do. I find nonfiction like pulling teeth too, sometimes!

Of course, fiction can be like that too. I do experience writer's block, but I am fortunate in several ways. One is that I managed to build a very good work ethic during my unpublished years, one I was mostly able to maintain after going professional. I also found a multitude of strategies for dealing with writer's block that have been helpful.

Once in a while, a book just doesn't work, though, and I DO abandon it and get into a funk for a while.

Simple guide for me is:

1) Make manageable goals.

2) Write consistently, and develop habits. Long hours are not as good as consistent hours. Crunching on a book burns you out. Instead, I follow the Stephen King method of shooting for around 2k words a day.

3) If I get into a funk, write anyway, planning to throw those words away. Then re-read them the next day and see if they are actually terrible, or if I was in a funk. Most common result if the words are bad is this: writing them gives my brain something to fix, and it does, giving me a new scene to try. But if I just stop, and don't write the bad words, I get stuck.

4) In emergencies, having something fun and different to work on can give a breather. This is where the Secret Projects came from.

Good luck! Don't know if that helps, but I hope it's at least interesting.

xXCoffeeCreamerXx: Step 2 is where I get caught up. I know I need to build good habits, but I simply can’t get started/stay consistent enough to form those habits. So is there a tip 1.25, 1.5, 1.75?

Brandon Sanderson: There is, but it's unfortunately not going to be quite as useful. That's the step that is most likely to be the tough one, but diagnosing what is causing it is a little like trying to diagnose a disease from a headache. Basically anything can cause you to have trouble building the habits, and so general advice is tougher to give. The solution will really depend on your personal psychology.

How have you built other habits? What motivates you? (Loaded question, I know.) An easy trick is to put your writing time just before or after something you do every week already, and don't have trouble remembering to do. Have a weekly raid with the WoW team? Add writing in before it for two hours. Go to the gym on a Saturday? Build a playlist of mood music for your story, imagine it while there, then stop at a library/cafe always on the way home and write for a few hours as part of the weekly routine.

Involving others in your life can help. Telling them your goals, and getting their buy-in to make you responsible. Starting/joining a writing group (which isn't for everyone, mind you, but works for some of us) so you have a responsibility to submit can work too, depending on if you're the type who will fill bad not having something to share each week after you promised to do so.

Like the cafe suggestion above, a lot of people have more success building a habit if it's something they go out and do--rather than something they do at home, particularly if you're trying to write in a space where you ordinarily relax.

But really, there's a WHOLE lot going on inside of us in regards to motivation, and the individual brain brew is unique to us all. I am helped by keeping a spreadsheet of work done, so I can watch the numbers count up and see my progress. Others I know need a stick or a carrot. Others work on a yearly habit (writing during the summers as a teacher, for example) rather than a weekly one.

And all of that is assuming you're not avoiding writing for other reasons, such as performance anxiety, fear of the blank page, or a sense that something's wrong with your story you don't know how to fix.

Best of luck. Like I said, the advice here might not be as good/relevant as either of us would like. But maybe there's something in it you can take away.

[darkchocolatedimples]

the tortured poets department (sponsored by my procrastination)

excuse my essays for each song the lyrics are so interesting to me so there’s like actual analyzation for each one.

fortnight - dex

that lingering resentment disguised by surface level friendship is that not literally him and sophie come on. “run into you sometimes, ask about the weather” the awkwardness!! “your wife waters flowers, i want to kill her” he was the #1 fitz hater for multiple reasons after all (although i think he was over it by the time keefe became prominent)

the tortured poets department - sophie

this is so keefe from her perspective come on “you’re in self sabatoge mode, throwing spikes down the road, but i’ve seen this episode and still love the show” “i chose this cyclone with you” “sometimes i wonder if you’re gonna screw this up with me. but you told [biana] that you’d kill yourself if i ever leave. and i had said that to [dex] about you so i felt seen. everyone we know understands why we’re meant to be.” also let’s be so real keefes drawing journals + goodbye letters, he’s giving tortured poet

my boy only breaks his favorite toys - fitz

guys he’s just a silly little boy with anger issues, and he’s MY silly little boy with anger issues stop hating him 😞 “the voices in his head called the rain to end our days of wild” “he saw forever so he smashed it up” he may have fucked up but it happens!!

down bad - dex

CUZ FUCK IT HE WAS IN LOVE!!! also if i may present to you: “i might just die it would make no difference” in the context that outside of sophie saw no purpose to his own life. he saw himself just as he is presented in the books: as her best friend and nothing more. so in losing that (blaming himself and his own feelings for it) what was left of him? who was left? sophie was also his ONLY friend. not to mention in the context of the fact that when he WAS presumed dead nobody cared, they still cared more about sophie.

so long, london - keefe

no not bc of london actually but because “and you say i abandoned the ship but i was going down with it, my white knuckle dying grip holding tight to your quiet resentment” is actually a direct reference to keefitz’ friendship falling apart as fitz got angrier and keefe got more closed off. “you swore that you loved me but where were the clues?” “im just mad as hell cause i loved this place” me when everglen is no longer keefes safehaven. nor anyone’s for that matter bc its haunted by alvars betrayal and alden’s mind break and fitz’ anger.

but daddy i love him - biana

“i just learned these people only raise you to cage you” “i just learned these people try and save you…cause they hate you” “dutiful daughter all my plans were laid…growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all.” i hate alden vacker. how do u manage to use and fuck up all ur kids by age 12 like wow. “i’ll tell you something about my good name: it’s mine alone to disgrace” she would 100% say this. she would also 100% say “im having his baby! no im not but you should see your faces.”

fresh out the slammer - keefe

sokeefe or keefitz take it as it comes. “in the shade of how he was feeling.” “as i said in my letters.” “my friends try, but i wouldn’t hear it…for just one glimpse of his smile” “swirled you into all of my poems” it’s so him it is truly.

florida!!! - keefe

THIS one’s about london! “well me and my ghosts, we had a hell of a time! yes i’m haunted but im feeling just fine” ethan and eleanor wright who?? “your home’s really only a town you’re just a guest in” candle shade/shores of solace type beat “i need to forget so take me to [london], i have some regrets i’ll bury them in [london]” “i don’t want to exist so take me to [london]” aw bae

guilty as sin? - dex

i don’t know how to explain but i just feel like this feeling of i shouldn’t be doing/feeling this the literal guilt and all these delusions and the sheer intensity of it all is just giving me dex. “this cage was once just fine, am i allowed to cry? i dream of cracking locks, throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks” “i keep these longings locked in lowercase inside a vault” this must be the way he loves if he thinks so little of himself and doesn’t let himself have good things. “i choose you and me religiously” because at the end of the day when he makes a decision or chooses something or someone he puts his all into it.

who’s afraid of little old me - sophie

“you lured me and you hurt me and you taught me. you caged me then you called me crazy. i am what i am cuz you trained me.” all of it’s literally giving her growing into herself in stellarlune and making decisions on her own. SHE IS NOT A PAWN!!!

i can fix him (no really i can) - tam

idk its just giving him defending rayni with his life when everyone else including linh was like who tf is this girl.

loml - fitz

every sad pining song is fitz vacker to me. esp the refrences to the romance being dead but never buried... "still alive killing time at the cemetery, never quite buried...i'm your holy ghost" the way that sophie switched up on him in stellarlune (although i fully support her) didn't give him much time to recover. "are they second-hand embarrased that i can't get out of bed because something counterfiet's dead" give me heartbroken fitz!!! for once instead of angry fitz just give me tired, resigned fitz. "it was legendary, it was momentary, it was unecessary, should've let it stayed buried" is such a good summary of sophitz imo.

i can do it with a broken heart - linh

linh is so interesting to me as a parallel of fitz: meaning she, just like him, is always angry. however she masks it in smiles and kindness the way he never learned to, he just lashes out. this song feels like it’s talking about that mask: “i’m so depressed i act like it’s my birthday everyday” “i can read your mind ‘she’s having the time of her life’ …i can show you lies” “cause im miserable and nobody even knows” “i can hold my breath, i’ve been doing it since [i] left”

the smallest man who ever lived - keefe

it’s giving a letter to cassius/gisela/alvar. “and i don’t even want you back, i just want to know if rusting my sparkling summer was the goal. and i don’t miss what we had” “did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?” “in 50 years will all this be declassified and you’ll confess why you did it, and i’ll say ‘good riddance’” “i would’ve died for your sins instead i just died inside. and you deserve prison but you won’t get time” “in plain sight you hid, but you are what you did. and i’ll forget you but i’ll never forgive.”

the alchemy - sophie

“cause the sign on your heart said it’s still reserved for me. honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?” aw sokeefe.

clara bow - biana

BIANA BEING COMPARED TO HER BROTHERS AND ALL THE VACKERS BEFORE THEM "the crown is stained but you're the real queen" "beauty is a beast that roars, down on all fours, demanding more...its hell on earth to be heavenly" i love her.

the black dog - fitz

bring back petty fitz!! i think the young girl not knowing the starting line could parallel with keefe not being able to understand things about telepathy that really connected fitz and sophie. i also think we could shift the angle and make it about alvars betrayal and how it sparked his angry trauma response. “you said i needed a brave man, then proceeded to play him until i believed it too.” “now i want to sell my house and set fire to all my clothes…even if i die screaming, and i hope you hear it.”

imgonnagetyouback - fitz

he is 100% this delusional. he's just like me. "you'll find that you were never not mine" "even if its handcuffed im leaving here with you." "told my friends i hate you but i love you just the same, pick your poison babe, i'm poison either way"

the albatross - keefe

“one bad seed kills the garden. one less temptress, one less dagger to sharpen.” “the devil that you know looks now more like an angel. i’m the life you chose, and all this terrible danger.” HE IS THE ALBATROSS. i can’t wait for the movie i want edits of him to this. ACTUALLY I WANT A LOT OF THINGS maybe I’ll make a separate post about that.

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus - keefe

you saw it coming. this song SCREAMS KEEFITZ. like- “you said some things that i can’t unabsorb…you needed me but you needed drugs more.” “changed plans and lovers and outfits and rules all to outrun my desertion of you.” “if you want to break my cold cold heart just say ‘i loved you the way that you were’” WHAT THE HECK DUDE IM SOBBING “back to the moment i crashed into you like so many wrecks do” that line solidified this as keefe’s pov for me. in conclusion. SOBBING.

how did it end - biana

i propose to you: not a relationship, but the vacker family falling apart and the way they became a huge subject of gossip in the lost cities. when alden’s mind broke, while fitz had turned to anger biana became depressed, and i think this song could relate to that as well. the whole part of “guess who we ran into at the shops” feels very much like conversations others would have about the vackers at the time and when alvar betrayed them. “soon they’ll go home to their [brothers], smug cause they know they can trust him.” and i think at the end of the day when all of it happened biana was just young and betrayed and lost, because she didn’t see it coming or understand why (who did?) “the deflation of our dreaming, leaving me bereft and reeling” “i can’t pretend like i understand, how did it end?”

so high school - biana

HER VIBES ALL THE WAY she’s so cute and lovely and i want this for her (and dex. specifically dex. not anyone else.)

i hate here - sophie

was leaning dex until “you see i was a debutant in another life but now i seem to be scared of going outside” but the whole idea of escapism applies to both of them. especially to sophie though when she lived with humans and was so alone because even her own family couldn’t understand her, and she canonically is a bookworm and probably found more comfort in those other lives than she ever could in her own. "I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind...i read about it in a book when I was a precious child" "ill get lost on purpose, this place made me feel worthless"

thanK you aIMee - tam

aimee 🤝🏽 the song parents. “everyone knows that my [sister] is a saintly woman. but she used to say she wished that you were dead.” “but when i count the scars there’s a moment of truth: that there wouldn’t be this if there hadn’t been you.” thank you song parents 🫶🏽

i look in people’s windows - fitz

i thought this song sounded so creepy till I actually listened to it and now the idea of like lowkey stalking someone just to see if they still care about you or have moved on is slightly making sense. "does it feel alright to not know me? i'm addicted to the if only." it's giving keefitz (when isn't it?)

the prophecy - dex

"let it once be me, who do i have to speak to about if they can redo the prophecy?" THIS JUST REMINDS ME SO MUCH OF THE BEGINNING OF STELLARLUNE WHEN HES LITERALLY MOURNING WHAT HASN'T EVEN HAPPENED TO HIS BROTHER YET i need more dex being the oldest sibling and shouldering that burden. the love-hate relationship with his siblings while simultaneously trying to make their quality of life so much better than what he had. also "a lesser woman would've lost hope, a greater woman wouldn't beg" is so him. he is so that middle.

cassandra - tam

"so they killed cassandra first cuz she feared the worst...do you believe me now?" "you can mark my words, i said it first. in a mourning warning, no one heard." tam when keefe joined the neverseen fr

peter - keefe

pls tell me you saw this one coming. "are you still a mindreader? a natural scene stealer, I've heard great things [fitz], but life was always easier on you than it was on me." "promises, oceans deep, but never to keep" "forgive me [fitz], my lost fearless leader...from when we were just kids. is it something I did?" i think I'm just in a constant state of mourning their friendship.

the bolter - keefe

obvious reasons but also "i can confirm she made a curious child, ever reviled by everyone but her own father." "hearts are hers for the breaking, there's escape in escaping." "she's got the best stories, you can be sure, as she was leaving, it feels like freedom."

robin - dex

had to do some research for this one but apparently its talking about preserving a child's innocence! for this reason it reminds me again of dex and his siblings because of the way he really wants to protect them from things that haven't happened yet (especially considering rex being talentless). "way to go tiger" definitely sounds like something he would say to them feeling all sentimental but then, knowing siblings, they'd probably grill him about why he's being nice 💀

the manuscript -

we know the drill by now, fitz gets all the breakup songs because they could be about sophie OR keefe. "afterwords, she only ate kid's cereal, and slept in her mother's bed" while the song is discussing reverting back to childhood habits in vulnerability, fitz's vulnerability made him angry (but it was still a big change from his regular self) "looking back might be the only way to move forward" I hope he does get to move on!!! im tired of the love triangle plot if we're not gonna focus on keefitz' friendship 😭

[hufflepuff-16]

You're a cutie ☆ミ

Harry Potter x gn reader (〝⌒∇⌒〝)

Warnings: just a tiny big of angst mostly cute fluff

Summary: Reader is feeling a bit sad, so Harry tries to cheer her up (friends to lovers fic).

Link to my previous James Potter fanfic

You arrive at Diagon Alley for your yearly shopping trip, but instead of feeling happy, you feel rather lonely and melancholy, it had been a year since the battle of hogwarts so after having visited half the shops, you decide to go to the Leaky Cauldron, hoping the warmth of the pub will make you feel better. When you enter, your mood lifts immediately. The bar is crowded, and the atmosphere is cosy. You find a booth in the back, and as you look up, you notice a familiar face walking in, who grins when you smile and wave him over to sit with you.

"Hi Harry," you say loudly

Harry waves at you and slides into the booth, grabbing a pitcher of Butterbeer as he does so.

“You look a little down. What’s the matter? Everything alright?” He says with a sympathetic smile.

Oh, Harry is so sweet, you thought. He was always looking out for others.

"Ah... you know, feeling a bit tired," you say truthfully.

Harry’s eyes soften upon hearing you say that. He reaches out an arm and rests a hand on your shoulder.

“Anything I can do to help? I may not be the wisest fella, but I’ve been told I am rather good at cheering people up.” He offers you a comforting smile, which somehow warms you from the inside out.

"You’re cute Harry you know that," You say teasingly.

Harry feels himself blushing at the compliment, and then grins at you.

“Well, thanks? I’d like to think that I have my charm moments,” he says in a playful tone.

He then smiles at you, “but honestly? I think you’re the cute one.”

You roll your eyes playfully at his comment, "What brings you here, Harry?"

“I could do with a chat and a good butterbeer,” Harry says and smiles warmly at you. He also happens to think you look really great tonight and is very tempted to say so, but decides against it for now.

“What are you doing in Diagon Alley, if you don’t mind me asking. I don’t really recognise this as your usual hangout place.”

"Oh, I'm just doing my yearly school shop."

Harry nods along and makes a little “Mm-hm” sound.

“Did you manage to get all the supplies you need?” He asks with a curious expression. “Not like a certain someone who’s a chronic procrastinator who would rather goof off than get his supply list finished…” He says with a joking smirk and nudging your shoulder with his.

"Yup, I've got everything, Mr Procrastinator ," You tease.

Harry laughs lightly. “I was talking about myself, you know,” he says with a smile, “but you knew that.” He says with a grin and nudges your shoulder once more. “I’m glad to hear you managed to get everything you need, though. I wouldn’t want you to be underprepared the day for the school year starts.”

He tilts his head at you, “So… how are you liking your holiday so far?” He asks, wanting to know how your time off from Hogwarts has been treating you.

"Actually to tell you the truth it's been quite hard, I'm just scared for them to end because then we would be back at hogwarts and.....you know.....that's where the battle happened and I'm worried I'll just see the bodies of our loved ones, and death eaters!" You give a shudder.

Harry looks worried and reaches to grab your hand to offer you comfort as you speak.

“I… I completely understand,” he says quietly and then sighs a little bit.

“Unfortunately I can’t exactly promise you nothing bad will happen. Death Eaters are ruthless, and I can’t make any guarantees. However…” he gives you a soft smile, “I can promise we’ll be there for each other. We’re in this together.”

He squeezes your hand a little.

“You have my word. And you have me.”

You give him a smile, "Thanks, Harry, you are a good person, you know."

Harry blushes at your kind words.

“Well… I try to be,” he says as he smiles at you. He then clears his throat and attempts to shift the conversation into a slightly lighter tone.

“So if you could do anything you wanted right now, what would you do?” He asks playfully. “You can ask for the moon and stars. The sky is the limit. It’s your wish, whatever it is.” He says with a grin.

You think for a moment and then decide what you wish for.

"I think I'd like to be in my house with some hot chocolate and a blanket, maybe watch a movie."

Harry nods. “Sounds perfect. What movie would you like to watch?” He asks curiously.

“And you can have all the hot chocolate you’d like. I’ll whip you up a batch.” He adds with a warm smile.

You blush, did he truly mean that?

"You want to go home with me and do that?" You ask, blushing.

Harry blushes and looks at you for a moment. “I…” he trails off for a second, blushing even more as his eyes look you up and down, taking you in.

“Yeah, I think I would.” He smiles back at you. “It would be nice.”

You smile at him, feeling a little bit shy, "Ok, let's go to my house, I'll apparate us there."

“Alright, lead the way,” Harry says with a warm smile and stands up to follow after you.

He pauses for a second before asking quietly, “Would it be okay if I held your hand?” He asks sincerely. “I just want to know what you're comfortable with.”

you love how sensitive Harry is with what you are comfortable with, "of course, cutie!"

Harry smiles at you and blushes at that adorable nickname you gave him.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, and as he holds your hand, he feels this sense of rightness within him, and the realization that you and him have a connection that goes deeper than just friends. That this is something special.

He laces his fingers with yours as he walks along with you. “So have you got any cute roommates I should know about?” He asks with a teasing twinkle in his eyes.

"You'll see," you laugh, apparating yourselves into your home.

Your home is amazing. It’s the definition of cosy. Just like you described, there’s a blanket on the couch and hot chocolate steaming away on the kitchen counter. It really is the perfect place to relax and watch a movie.

“This is nice,” Harry says with a content sigh and then takes a seat on the couch, putting his arm around you in an affectionate motion. “I’m really glad you brought me here.” He smiles kindly at you.

you give a small smile and plop right down next to him on the couch, waiting for him to choose a movie to watch, when your cat comes to see who is sitting on their favourite napping place

"Harry, meet my cute roommate flutter," you tease gesturing towards the fluffy cat.

Harry smiles and picks up your cat, giving it a few scritches and pats.

“Hello, Flutter,” he says in a soft and gentle voice. “Very cute roommates you’ve got!” He says as he giggles and sets his kitty friend down next to you at the end of the couch.

Harry looks through the collection of DVDs at your coffee table and ends up picking out a movie called “The Breakfast Club.”

“Do you want to watch this? I quite liked it when I was younger.”

"Sure!" Leaning your head against his shoulder, getting yourself into a comfy position on the lumpy couch.

Harry blushes a little more at the way you melt into his body, and smiles softly as he feels you pull closer.

“Are you comfortable?” He asks you and looks down at you with a look of pure concern and caringness. “If you want the remote, I can grab it for you.” He offers as the title menu starts loading.

"No, cutie, I'm perfectly content," you say.

Harry’s cheeks keep growing red as he hears that adorable nickname again, but the heat he feels in his face is completely justified now and comes from something more than just being warm. It’s from pure affection and fondness.

“That’s good,” he says quietly, and kisses you on the cheek as the movie starts playing. His lips softly press against your skin, and his touch is light, careful, but there’s a little bit of pressure too, enough for you to know that he means it, and that this is no casual peck.

"Harry...... can I ask you?" Something you aren't sure if the question is appropriate or if your anxiety is acting up.

Harry looks at you with an expression of concern, and then nods at you.

“Of course you can, anything,” he says, and his tone is empathetic and compassionate. “What’s on your mind?” He asks earnestly, and his expression is warm, inviting, and soft. It makes you want to tell him anything you want to get off your chest when you look at him because you just know that he would handle your feelings responsibly and carefully.

"Are you still seeing Ginny?" You really hoped he wasn't because she had been harbouring a crush on him forever, and now has he been showing you some affectionate signs.

Harry looks at you, and it’s as if the rest of the world just falls away when you look into his eyes. They’re warm, kind and thoughtful, and the moment you see them, your heart skips a beat and you feel that familiar feeling of butterflies in your stomach, the one that’s just for him.

It’s like you’re in your own little world with him. No one else exists.

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts and consider what you asked.

“No,” he says quietly, “I’m not seeing Ginny.”

"Oh....." relief floods through you.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Harry says with a gentle smile at you. “I like you, you know that. And nobody else is going to steal my attention or affections.” He says with absolute sincerity and truthfulness. He leans in to kiss you lightly on the forehead.

“You’re my main priority.” He says as he pulls back after the kiss, looking down at you with an adoring and fond expression.

"Harry Potter, you make me the happiest person in the world!" You say genuinely.

Harry sighs softly and smiles at you.

“You make me the happiest person in the world, y’know?” He says while nodding, “so it’s only fitting that the feeling is mutual,” he adds, his tone soft and tender.

There’s something about you that just… makes him want to shower you with all the love he has in him. It’s that deep sense of being special to one another that he’s never felt before.

"I'd like to start seeing you when we go back to school, Harry." You say wanting to have something more with Harry.

Harry’s eyes light up and he nods. “That’s… definitely something I’d like as well,” he says with a warm and genuine smile on his face.

“You’re an amazing person. I feel like we have something very special here and… honestly, I’d like to see where this goes.” He says softly, placing a hand on your cheek and looking into your eyes. His gentle touch sends a thrill of excitement throughout your heart and makes you feel giddy with happiness.

You smile, pressing a soft peck to his lips.

Harry blushes and his heart skips a beat at your kiss. It’s the perfect blend of cute and flirty.

“Mmm…” he mumbles softly and blushes even more. “That felt really nice, y’know?”

He leans in and kisses you again, this time just a little bit more deeply than last time. For the first time, a trace of his tongue moves to meet yours, slowly, with no rush or pressure to the moment. As you pull back, you see Harry’s face is all glowing red still, and his expression is one of pure joy.

"I love you, Harry," you say your heart had never been this full of happiness before.

Harry’s lips part as you say that in a breath of surprise. His eyes are wide as he looks at you, and for a moment, he just stares in disbelief.

“I…I-I…” he stammers out, his voice breaking as his chest flutters with an overwhelming sense of emotions. “I love you too!” He says in a soft whisper, and tears stream down his cheeks as he realizes just how much that statement means to him. He leans in to pull you in for an all-consuming kiss.

The End

[writingforfishes]

Otto and Atticus Part 10: Back Inaction

HAS IT BEEN A MONTH?!

Heck.

Well, here's a little something that I've been busy over-producing from when I lifted something wrong a few weeks ago and had to baby myself back to well.

Just imagine if I'd had a dorky tall dude to push away the affections of due to my inadequacies, instead of doing it all by myself anyway.

I'm just letting this story go so I don't obsess over the words anymore. It may be clunky and wordy, but if I stare at it any longer, I'll probably keep making it worse.

Atticus is in an arousal haitus during this. (I also just got done with one of those.)

CW

Fast hiccups.

Otto getting annoyed by his hiccups.

Adjacent talk of Otto's recovery struggles.

Back pain.

Rejecting comfort.

Procrastination and issues with time management.

Massage (non kinky)

Detailed body talk (not related to genitalia)

Otto being a grumpy sleepy boy.

Atticus being a grumpy sore potato.

Being serious for a second.

Inadequacies with being taken care of.

Frustrations at growing old and being seen as old (so mild agism and something that could possibly be seen as ablism, though not intentionally).

Lots of teasing to cope.

Otto being a nerd.

Atticus being a dork.

Author trying reeeal haaard to let this go without another edit session!

Atticus hissed as pain shot from their buttox to the base of their spine. All they had done was pick up a can from a grocery bag on the floor and put it in the pantry. Seemed bad posture had caught up with them. The can was a metaphorical straw that broke the camel’s back. Atticus, in the role of the camel, was not amused.

Otto paused in putting away groceries to shoot them a questioning look.

“You good?” he asked, blindly putting the last frozen item in before closing the top door of the fridge and coming over to his partner’s hunched form, their hand latched onto the door jamb of the pantry and taking shallow, then deep, breaths.

“Mm...not so much…” Atticus replied. They hobbled away toward the couch and sat down on the cushions gingerly.

Though initially Atty had allowed Otto to help them that day, all of Otto’s attempted administrations of care had been brushed off every day after. (Though not in an unfriendly way. More in a “nah, I’m good, don’t worry about me, I got this, ooh look a bird!” way.)

Atty had taken copious amounts of Ibuprofen throughout the week. They applied heat and ice and did stretches and exercises, but the muscle strain was taking forever to heal on its own. They had even started adopting some of Otto’s Pilate’s exercises after seeing the similarities of them to the physical therapy recommendations online.

Still, the pain persisted.

What Atticus really needed was rest. But with an upcoming deadline and having to write furiously to get it done on time, rest was in short commodity. Otto realized this and respected the reason Atty was denying his offers of care. Though, admittedly, he felt a bit helpless for it. Watching his partner in pain while writing at his desk in a chair he was well aware was not exactly ergonomic was mildly distressing.

But, with teeth gritted, the writer charged through the story using the pain to inspire and empathize with their characters. Finally, after 5 days, the writing piece was complete. And, with a heavy-handed tap on the send button, Atticus collapsed back in the ill-fitted office chair they’d occupied during the spree. They’d only taken breaks in their furiously charged writing spree to attempt to use the bathroom, ice, heat, and stretch their back. (And, at Otto’s insistence, they also took breaks to eat. Though they frequently brought food with them to the desk.)

“Really loving this procrastination for my personal growth journey, but I could do without the stress it causes!” they exclaimed.

Otto, from the direction of his work bench, chuckled.

“You done?” he asked, hopefully. Perhaps now he would be allowed to care for them more than making food and giving monologues on various topics he’d distracted them with while they’d attempted to ease their pain.

Atticus gave a whimper and a nod in response.

The writer’s eyes were closed. Their hands clutched their lower back while still sitting in Otto’s office chair. Their fingers gripped the soreness that had only abated enough to withstand during the week they’d tried to ease it amid their furious attempts to make up for lost time in writing a manuscript they should’ve had done a week ago.

Atticus startled at Otto’s voice that had somehow gotten so close that it was right behind them as he spoke.

“How’s your back?” Otto asked. He didn’t miss the wince that came from the jump of their body and felt a bit guilty for causing it.

Atty opened their eyes to look back and up at Otto, his kind face giving a warm smile down at them.

“‘Sokay,” they lied.

“Mm,” Otto said a bit curtly. “So...if I asked you right now to walk to the kitchen, bring me something from the bottom cabinet, and walk back here you’d be perfectly fine and pain free?”

Atticus considered it before lying again, “Yup!”

“Go ahead, then,” he said, crossing his arms.

A beat passed between them, a bit of a stare down.

“Pssh! Dude! You have two legs and are up. You go get it!” Atty said, attempting to diffuse with humor.

Instead of laughing, though, Otto circled to face them and bent down to lock eyes with his partner in front of them. It was a stare that almost made Atty squirm. There was a deep honesty in those eyes, an intense interest and even more intense emotion.

There was also seriousness in those eyes that Atticus usually tried to avoid at all costs until they could no longer ignore it. It wasn’t for lack of wanting to be genuine or truthful that they avoided the seriousness, but for lack of wanting to reveal themselves out of instinctual protection.

Atticus did trust their partner. They didn’t trust themselves.

“Atty...” Otto started.

Atticus could’ve lost themselves with just that nickname and how it was said. Otto had an alarming ability to coat the simplest of words in an emotional subtext that could drown a sane person. For a person like Atticus, who considered themselves by no means, sane, it just made it a little harder to breathe. Otto had their attention.

“You have cared for me more than once when I was at my worst. It’s obvious you’re in pain. Why-why won’t you let me care for you now? Is it pride? Do you...not trust me?” Otto asked. The ‘why’ was a stutter, not a hiccup.

The clock maker took the tips of his fingers and ran them along Atticus’ hairline. He shifted an errant curl up into its usual place. A soft breath was drawn from the writer as he found the buzzed part of their undercut and pulled the pads of his fingers over it softly.

“Noooo…” they said like a whine when he asked about trust, “I do.”

Atty countered those dark brown eyes with pinched brows and narrowed eyelids. They held their lips tightly against each other and sighed.

“I’m just...embarrassed,” Atticus finally admitted under his scrutiny.

Otto, still on his knees in front of them, scrunched his eyes up and shook his head, incredulous.

“Why?” he asked genuinely. His eyes widened as he asked, and his brows edged up his prominent forehead in confusion.

Atticus had seen the clock maker in ways so much worse than a strained back, so Otto was truly befuddled at the reason for the embarrassment.

Atticus sighed, perhaps a bit dramatically.

“I-I don’t like needing to be cared for. I...feel like a burden, y’know? I don’t know how to act like someone who...who needs to be helped! My mom never...I loved her, and she loved me but...my mom didn’t really know how to treat me when I was sick. I’d feel...guilty for it happening. I don’t know why, so don’t ask me!

“And...I threw my back out while picking up a can! Less than a pound! It’s just...all so demoralizing and insulting and stupid and...I’m ooold and I don’t want to-to need anyone and...I—ugh!” Atticus exclaimed and buried their head in their hands.

Otto slowly coerced Atticus’ hands from their face and cupped their cheek in his hand in replacement. He was smiling again, soft and sweet. He was annoyingly understanding. Atty was always prepared to be a terrible person, but Otto never let them. His patience was very frustrating in that way.

“I get all of that. Trust me. But...I guess there have been too many instances in my life where I literally didn’t have a choice but to let people take care of me,” he said. “The number of times I’ve been at my worst have been more than I would ever want to admit. And, I guess, through that I learned some humility? Which is annoying. It doesn’t really help the guilt and shame go away but at least I know what it feels like to think you’re a burden on someone, and then find out that you’re not. A lot of people have convinced me of that. Margie. Mark. You,” he said, with a nod to Atticus. “And...it doesn’t always stick. I still have moments where I have a really hard time letting people take care of me. But I guess I’ve sort of had to be taken care of more so...I have more practice? Kind of?”

Otto shook his head with a sardonic chuckle and a shrug.

“But, throwing back one of your very apt observations from your birthday on which, remember, you were right because it was your birthday,” Otto continued, “allowing me to take care of you is a gift to me. It isn’t a burden, but something I look forward to providing, okay? And...so...I want to provide it!”

“Dammit,” Atticus ground out through their teeth. “I hate how good your memory is.”

Otto did laugh in amusement this time.

“Yeaaaah,” he drawled, “it’s a real drag, huh? It’s your fault for being so damn poignant.”

“Ugh, I really wish I was less insightful!” Atty agreed, grateful that they were back to lighter dialogue.

Otto smiled and held each of Atticus’ hands in his own.

“So, can you please let me care for you now? Cause, man, watching you suffer through this week has been a special kind of torture. Not to mention that chair hurts my back, let alone what it must feel like for you!” Otto said.

“Yeah, what the fuck is up with this chair? We need to get you a new chair…” Atticus mumbled before turning back to Otto’s waiting face. “Okay, fine. Take care of me. Or whatever.”

“Ooh, reign that enthusiasm in, Atty!” Otto said, smiling.

Atticus rolled their eyes in response.

Otto had obviously been planning to be Atticus’ knight in shining khaki ever since they’d hurt their back. He had a plan. The first part of that plan was a long bath soaking in Epson salts. The clock maker had even gotten a small bath pillow for Atticus to lay their head on while they luxuriated in the tub. He lit a candle, of all things, that smelled of lavender and vanilla. The writer didn’t even know that Otto had allowed a candle in the house; his nose was so sensitive to perfumes and powerful scents. As such, the candle was successfully mild in its odor, just enough to flavor the air.

Otto left Atticus to soak while he went downstairs and fixed dinner. Just as the water started to cool and Atty was about to get up Otto arrived with a towel and helped them from the tub. And, as their back gave a spasm from the change in position, Atticus was extremely grateful he was there.

“You okay?” Otto asked as he supported them.

“Yeah. Just one fucking back spasm away from chopping the whole spine out,” Atty grunted. They huffed at the edge of the tub until the pain ebbed.

“Mmm, don’t recommend it,” Otto said with humor.

“I dunno,” Atty continued bitterly, “politicians seem to do fine without one for the most part.”

“Wow. Okay! Pain makes you even more cynical than normal. Good to know. Afraid you’re stuck being a writer, though. Suffering for the art and all,” Otto said watching Atticus gingerly towel off as he handed them underwear, a white shirt, and their favorite pair of grey sweatpants.

“Yeah, choosing honesty over deception has been a real drag,” the writer said.

“Tell me about it,” Otto had agreed before walking his spouse downstairs.

To their credit, Atticus only faltered once, having to let Otto support them. However, every step triggered shoots of pain up their lower back and in one butt cheek. Being a pain in the ass and having a pain in the ass were two very different experiences, they were realizing. They quickly decided they preferred the former.

The writer took a moment to muse how on earth they’d scaled the steps without Otto behind them as support before now. Was that a testament to tenacity or idiocy? Both, at this point, seemed likely.

Dinner had been prepared. Tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. As much as Atticus and Otto’s childhood had differed, they both had memories of their parents preparing tomato soup with a grilled cheese sandwich. It’s why Otto had ordered the same meal at the food market in the Antique’s Mall a month ago. Happy memories were spare for him and marrying them with moments he wanted to find joy in was very therapeutic.

Comfort food was also essential when someone didn’t feel well; Atticus more than appreciated the gesture. They spooned the warm liquid into their mouth noting the spices floating on top that their mom’s Campbell’s brand fare never contained.

“Ooh, it’s a little spicy,” Atty had said after taking a few spoonfuls.

“Too much?” Otto asked with some worry.

“Nuh-uh, nope. Just unexpected. Mm, do we have crackers?” they asked.

Atticus allowed Otto to retrieve the Ritz crackers. They allowed Otto to do the dishes. They allowed Otto to put a Tiger Balm brand menthol patch on their back to ease their pain. They allowed Otto to give them a massage on the couch. Or, more accurately, Attics allowed themself grace from doing things that would cause pain, and Otto was more than willing to support that decision.

This last one, allowing Otto to give them massage, Atticus saw as extremely self-indulgent. Otto was more than happy to oblige, though. And Otto was, innuendo jokes aside, extremely skilled with his hands. He had actually hoped Atticus would request a massage. The writer had massaged him quite often after more intense or longer hiccup attacks. Disregarding even that, both of them were very familiar with when the other would benefit from the easing of muscles by proffered massages, kink moments aside.

For his part, Otto enjoyed Atticus’ body. He enjoyed the freckles that powdered along their shoulders and down their arms. He loved feeling the soft sides of their waist and lingered admiringly at the dimples above their butt. There was nothing sexual about this kind of touch. No arousal happened from either one of them during the massage. (In fact, Atticus was in a bit of a hiatus from their arousal reaction from hiccups, so not even the regular forms of excitement would be happening this night.)

When Otto had first given Atticus a massage at the time they had started to explore each other’s bodies, he was terrified he would hurt them. Atty was slight beneath his hands which seemed so large compared to their body. But when the writer scoffed as he tentatively ghosted his fingers along their skin, that he didn’t need to treat them like some porcelain doll and that they were tougher than they looked, Otto took note. What he discovered, quite surprisingly, was that they were right.

Their body may have been small, but it was made of denser muscle than it seemed. The softness of their curves gave way to cords of knotted muscle that actually took some effort to break through. Atty was also communicative if he’d pushed too far. This gave him confidence and he treated his partner less like a breakable commodity and more like a person with autonomy who was simply a different shape and size. The novelty of them being such wildly different sized bodies faded quite quickly after this realization. (Barring when they attempted to kiss each other while standing, Atticus needing something on a high shelf, or cheap shot jokes about height during banter.)

The couple ended up one on top of the other on the couch. Otto had reclined against the couch’s arm with a pillow underneath him and offered Atticus to lay with their back top of his belly and torso, their legs between his, and a pillow at their lower back. The writer sighed, sinking into the softness of his midsection and relishing the feeling of menthol on their back from the patch. Otto offered a small pillow to put at their neck so it would have support. Atty melted in even further at the comfort. When Otto kissed their head, his spouse made a very contented noise in the back of their throat that encouraged a chuckle from him.

“You feeling okay?” he asked. Otto had brought out a book to read above them and raised his glasses at the small face leaning back to look at him.

The soft sounds of an orchestral record took the space of sound between their words.

“Mmhm. Yep,” Atty said.

“How’s your back?” Otto asked.

“Feels tight but it doesn’t hurt as much. I smell like an old man, now. The Tiger Balm. But it feels really good,” Atticus admitted.

“Good,” Otto replied, smiling.

“What’re you reading?” they almost cut themselves off with a sizable and audible yawn. They felt Otto stroking their hair affectionately.

Atticus had not been getting the best sleep. They had been tossing and turning in the loft bed instead of their shared bed because they didn’t want to disturb Otto with their movements. None of it had made for consistent or fulfilling rest.

“‘T’snot Melville again, is it?” Atty followed up with before Otto could answer.

“No…” Otto said in faux offense, “Hawthorne.”

“Nerd,” Atty teased.

Otto snorted with a laugh jostling Atticus’ body.

“Oh crap, did that hurt?” Otto thought to ask after watching Atty readjust themselves after his laughter.

“Nah,” Atticus responded, but caught the doubtful eye of their husband above them. “Seriously, this time. Just kinda bouncy and soft. I promise you didn’t hurt me. Go back to reading your fancy novel. I’m gonna...not fall asleep.”

Otto watched the writer pull the blanket from off of the back of the couch and shrug it onto their shoulders, adjusting again against his body with a small grunt.

“Are you comfortable?” they suddenly asked him. Otto smiled.

“I’m good,” Otto responded, easily. He’d propped himself up on the pillow, it supporting his neck and back. Holding the book aloft wasn’t much of a challenge as he’d rest it on the back of the couch while reading. Though he might get a little warm having Atticus laying on him, it wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience if Atty was able to get some good sleep out of it.

“Kay,” they said lazily and turned their head again to get more comfortable.

A long while after Atticus had fallen asleep Otto marveled at how incredibly still they had been. Usually, they’d have turned at least once by this mark. This was probably an indication of how tired the writer was. They’d been asleep for a little over an hour without so much as a twitch.

Atticus had even fallen asleep with their glasses on. But as their head never turned enough to knock them askew, Otto decided not to remove them for fear of rousing them.

Otto was happy, also, that the heat from Atticus’ body wasn’t too overwhelming. It’d helped that he’d laid down in his boxer shorts and white t-shirt. He was only a little warm, but he hadn’t even started sweating. It was a relief not to have to deal with the heat, though he would’ve stayed regardless.

He suddenly felt gas rising up his chest and worked hard on letting it out as softly as possible to not disturb his spouse who slowly rose and fell with the movement of his body’s breath. He’d had the hiccups once today. It wasn’t anything special. Atticus teased him a bit on some of the sounds, able to be more natural with the occurrence during their break from feeling arousal from them.

The hiccups had been a little forceful, but sometimes they were like that. And, as usual, they’d lasted around ten minutes after his first sip of coffee before trailing off. That had been hours ago now.

But feeling his body jerk with a shock he started second guessing his culinary decision to spice the tomato soup he’d made as much as he had. He wasn’t lucky enough to have that be a single and, as many of his cases went, it started rapidly.

He tried to muffle the sounds by closing his mouth and putting a hand over his mouth but realized by doing so he was increasing the movements of his body which was visibly, at this point, jostling his partner. Otto tried letting the sounds out, then, but:

“Hup!-hu’up!-hulp!-huck!...hulp’m!-mk!-mmp!-MMP!” Otto groaned. It was a no-win situation. As expected, Atty shifted on his stomach.

Atticus became conscious to the feeling of a soft insistence of attention at the base of their spine. Fluttering thumps hit their body rapidly as their head seemed to jostle backwards. They blinked their eyes open and took a deep breath trying to make sense of the stimulus.

“S-sorry,” Otto’s voice vibrated on Atticus’ head through his chest as he spoke through the volley of hiccups that attacked him. “They-hup!-they jus-huck’m!-just started. Mk! I guess I-hick’m!-guess I should’ve b—been lighter hup!-lighter on the spice. Hip!”

“Aww,” Atticus cooed sleepily. “You have them again.”

Atty remembered the case from the morning. It was a pretty forceful attack from what they recalled. It shouldn’t have been a surprise that he’d gotten them again, especially after the spiciness in the soup. But it’d been a few weeks since he’d had anything more than his morning cases, and even those had been sparse.

However, the day after they’d gotten back from the Antique’s Store had been littered with short cases. His diaphragm had apparently been quite offended with Otto’s antics in inducing and worsening the case and it wasn’t done grumbling from the first day of events. It had been a somewhat exhausting day for both of them. Atty’s new vibrator had gotten a pretty good workout, to be brief.

But now, in a hiatus of arousal, Atty simply rubbed Otto’s thigh in sympathy of the hiccups he had now.

“Y-you okay? Hmp!-I’m not—not rocking h’uck!-rocking you too much? Hm’k!hmk!hup!-uh,” Otto asked placing his hand softly on Atticus’ chest. The writer put their hand on top of his and rubbed it affectionately.

“No, I’m fine. It’s kinda like a...massage chair. Like a soft pillow hitting my back randomly. Not unpleasant,” they mused.

Otto laughed, shaking his belly with it and increasing the speed of his hiccups. He waited a few seconds before talking, but the hiccups had only slowed down a little.

“Glad I can h’mp!-b-hup!-be of huck’m!-of se—service.MMK!-uh!” Otto said and felt Atticus’ hand stroking his again and sighed as much as he could.

Atticus then breathed in a yawn and stretched, joints popping a little as they reached their arms up past Otto’s head and back down as the clock maker dodged the wayward hands with a smile Atty couldn’t see.

As the writer woke up a little more, they squirmed against Otto’s body, satisfied that their back was not near as sore as it had been previously. Still feeling the enthusiastic hiccups from behind them, they started to be more aware of where their body was and how that might affect their partner.

“Hey, are you okay with me here? On your belly, I mean? I’m not making it worse, am I? Or painful?” Atticus worried.

“I don’t-himp!-I don’t think s—so. Hmk!huck’l! Th-mk!-they aren’t pul-hup!hup!-ling thei-hnk!-their punches but hmp!-but you—re not m-making it wo-hurp!hup!mk!hmp!-worse! Shit. Sorry,” he said, covering his mouth.

“You need to get up and cure them?” Atty asked. They pulled their head back to look at the vision of the upside-down head of their husband as it jolted with more hiccups with a look of concentration. The head shook ‘no’ in response and gave Atticus’ forehead and little peck before being jolted back again with another spasm.

“L—let’s see if hmk!hmk!-if they go hup!-go away on—on their own first. HU’UP!” he said and covered his mouth again at the loudness of the last hiccup.

Atty couldn’t help but laugh a little followed by a sympathetic face.

“Welp,” they said with a huff after a moment of riding the spasms of Otto’s diaphragm, “I need to pee.” Their back was fine, but their bladder was definitely being tested by the movements.

“You hup!-you n-need me to huck!-to help get hyup!-to the restroom?” Otto asked as he provided assistance to them sitting up, noticing the strain on their face.

“Nah,” they said with a grunt when they were finally upright. They gave his stomach a little pat and rub. “Poor guy. Um-no, I’m gonna use the guest one down here.”

Again, with some effort and help from Otto, Atticus finally found themselves standing, more or less. It was more of a near standing position as they leaned forward a little before slowly straightening their spine with a breath.

“You-huck!-you in hlmp!-in any p-huck-pain?” he asked.

“No,” Atty grumbled back. “Just stiffness more than anything.” They hissed. “And, okay, a little pain. I’ll grab an Ibuprofen after going to the bathroom.”

“I’ll ge-HUP!-get another pa-hilp!-patch,” Otto said, getting himself up with a hiccuping grunt from being in one position for so long.

“Sounds good,” Atticus said with a nod and an awkward hug to their husband who was now standing beside them.

“Calm down,” Atty whispered through Otto’s stomach to his diaphragm. They felt the motions of Otto chuckling in response and his hiccups quickening in response to that. “Stop that. I’m not that funny.”

At this, Atticus proceeded to scoot along to the guest bathroom as Otto desperately tried to hold in more snickering at their slow progress. The amusement tickled him unexpectedly. The way Atty held their back as they tried to stand up straight by activating their core was too reminiscent of the quintessential elder and, though Otto was hardly amused by the struggles of the elderly, the glare Atticus gave him served only to increase his mirth.

His hiccups, obviously, increased because of this and Atticus pronounced their lips with a harrumph.

“Forget what I said, diaphragm! Do your worst!” they said, entering the bathroom with a flair of attitude that sent Otto into more giggles and sacrificing him to the shortness of breath that came from rapid-fire hiccups.

When Atticus exited the bathroom, they could hear Otto’s hiccups from the kitchen and made their way, albeit slowly, to see their husband with a large white patch, destined for their lower back, on the surface of the kitchen island. He was bent over to his phone, which was also sitting on the island, reading something off the screen. One hand scrolled as the other pressed against his chest buffering against the barrage of hiccups he was still experiencing.

It was only at this point did the writer notice it was dark outside the windows. It made sense that it had gotten late, but it threw them off a little to suddenly notice it was nighttime.

“Hey-hmph!” Otto said, finally noticing them. “S-sorry, was just hup!hup’k!-just ch-checking some hmk!-some appointments.” He jolted with another cluster of two, silently.

Despite their chagrin at his teasing earlier, Atticus gave him a look of sympathy. It might not have been the worst case of hiccups Otto ever had, but they still looked pretty powerful.

“C’mon,” he continued, gulping another hiccup down and holding the patch by its edges. “Let’s hup’k!-g—get this on. Hmk!”

Atty was silently grateful that they weren’t aroused enough to physically react to the attack. The kind of hiccups Otto was letting out were the exact kind that got them the hottest. They couldn’t imagine the pain if their back had felt like clinching or arching in arousal.

“Then I can hum’k!-I can hel-mk!-help you do-hup!-do some light stretches, hmk-hmk!-uh, if you want HUP’K!” Otto said, blowing some air out of his mouth with mild frustration amid a few more hiccups.

Having a kink made it impossible not to be completely unaffected by the subject of the kink no matter the libido level at the time. But Atticus’ arousal stayed at a low buzz instead of spiking and, as that was the case, Otto’s arousal never blossomed to either increase or interact with his hiccups.

As such, Otto seemed to react to his hiccups in a way that seemed more likely how he interacted with them before. He was mildly annoyed when they interrupted his speech, and he got a little frustrated as he had to navigate his words and breath around him. He was still mostly unbothered by his hiccups regardless his arousal level, or Atticus’, but it getting near bedtime was making them seem a bit more of a nuisance than normal.

“Doing light stretches might help, if you’re up for helping me,” Atty responded. They gave a soft smile as they watched him carefully peel the paper from the side of the patch protecting the adhesive.

The writer then stood with their shirt hiked up as Otto lowered to his knees to have a better angle at placing the patch where it needed to be.

Amid sounds of hiccups, Atticus heard Otto fussing behind them. They felt his fingertips ghost their lower back, then leave. Atticus felt the plap of the menthol infused patch against their skin and then it was removed again.

“Shit,” Otto whispered as he stifled another cluster. Four hiccups hit him and quick succession as he once again had almost lined up the patch to his partners back before “hmk!huck’m!hilp!mlk!” caused the patch to go askew again as his hands lost their steadiness.

If he hadn’t been on his knees he might’ve had a little more control over the situation. Or perhaps not. For the most part, his hiccups were pretty par for the course, but those deep ones seemed to come out of nowhere and jerk his body more than he expected.

Thank goodness he hadn’t had these when working earlier today. He might’ve had to abandon any repairs until he could cure them.

The more frustrated he got the more disruptive the hiccups seemed. Though he always got a little grumpy come bedtime, the hiccups were exacerbating it.

“Cra-hu’uck!-crap,” he muttered as his hands jolted again and folded the patch in on itself. “C’mon...HUP!-uh...”

“You good back there, bud?” Atty said over their shoulder. They couldn’t turn too far to look behind them due to pain and stiffness, but Otto saw their profile and a glimpse of their eye from the corner of their glasses.

“Yeah j—just can’t get hu’up!-get this th-hip’m-thing on str-hmp!hmp!-straight-HMPK!-ugh!” Otto groused.

Atty wasn’t sure if he’d groaned because of the hiccups or because of the issues he was having with the patch.

“You know, as long as it’s in the right vicinity I don’t really mind how it looks. Also...we don’t really straight in this house so slap that baby on however it goes, huh?” Atty said, hoping to lighten the mood.

The writer got a scoffed laugh as a reply and, they thought, that might have to be enough. Regardless, Atticus finally felt the soothing coolness of the patch cover their lower back and heaved a sigh as they felt Otto’s fingers smooth it out and reveled in the delicate touch. They turned around to face him as he stayed knelt on the ground in front.

“You tired?” Atty asked softly as their arms propped on his shoulder and their hands encircled his neck.

“A little,” he admitted as his head was thrown back in a “hrmk’l!hrk!” and he rubbed his eyes. “Sorry hrmk! I know I g—get grouchy. HUCK’M!hmk!hlp!mmk!-huck!”

“Those things aren’t helping, I guess,” Atty noted to his hiccups. “They starting to bother you?”

“Uh-HUP’K! Heh! Sorta. They’re j-hulpk!-just annoying. HMMK!-Mm, not painful, th—though,” he said a little sheepishly.

Atticus pulled him closer with that admission and hugged his head to their chest as they rested their head on his.

“My poor guy,” they cooed. Then their voice got a little deeper and sharper. “That’s what you get for laughing at your poor partner at how they walk when they’re in pain!”

“Ah!” Otto exclaimed, laughter muffled into their body, “Tou-hup!hup!-t—touch-hip!hmp!-touché! Dammit!”

Atticus was back to rubbing his back in their embrace, him on his knees making the writer feel more than adequate to envelop him in their arms.

“Okay, I’m gonna take some Ibuprofen and maybe you should try and get rid of those? They sound like they’re getting worse.” Atty suggested.

“Yeah g—good idea HUP-uh,” Otto said and grabbed onto the kitchen island to pull himself up with a wince. “Oh! Hoop!” He grabbed his knees, the tissue around his patellae offended by the pressure put on them.

“Nuh-uh!” Atticus announced as they watched him struggle from their place in front of the cabinet the couple kept medicine in. “None of that! Only one of us can be down for the count at a time with old people pain! I already called lower back. You can have knees next week.”

“Heh hup!” Otto said with a small smile. “I’d hurmp!-I’d rather n—not. Hmk!-uh. I think I’m-hmp!hmp!-I think I’m good.”

Atticus watched him as he put the back of his hand over his mouth to cover a small burp followed by another cluster and finally lower that hand with a sigh onto his chest as he reached for the apple cider vinegar.

Ever since Rose and Bill had introduced them to the potential magic of a gulp of apple cider vinegar, as opposed to the three-step solution they’d used before, it was always a first line in curing Otto’s hiccups. If that didn’t work, then sugar, salt, and lemon resumed their position to be one of the more reliable cures. And if that didn’t work, which it usually did, waiting it out was the only other option. It was rare that they had to wait, but it had happened.

Atticus leaned against the counter as they watched Otto take a swig of the vinegar and wince, shaking his head, before swallowing it.

“Good?” Atty said, trying to keep the humor out of their voice. They smiled in amusement, though.

“I can still...sort of f—feel them. Yeah,” he sniffed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and sighed, jolting a little with another silent hiccup. “But I don’t think they’re go—O—nna last for much longer.”

“You sure?”

Otto nodded assuredly, the curls that had started to frizz on top of his head bobbing a little with the enthusiasm.

“Yeah,” he said, stifling a yawn that ended in another silent spasm. They had certainly calmed down, so Atticus nodded. “Hey, you want me to—to help you stretch before bed, n—now?”

“Yeah, let’s try that,” the writer agreed.

Otto unfolded the bench from his Pilate’s machine and helped Atticus on it.

“I wanna try some pa—assive stretches with me assisting. You game?” Otto asked.

“Yeah, sure.”

“J—just don’t let me push past the point of—of pain, okay?”

Otto handled one of Atticus’ legs and folded it up, their foot on his abdomen, as he leaned closer and pushed it toward their torso gently.

Atty chuckled. At Otto’s questioning look and pause in movement they shook their head.

“I’m fine, it’s just I can feel your tummy flutter on my foot when you, um, hiccup. It’s funny,” they said.

“Guess my diaphragm i—is giving you a food massage, too!”

“It’s working overtime,” Atty noted.

“Tell me ab—about it!” Otto groused with a shake of his head.

By the time the stretches were over, though, Otto’s hiccups had finally given up and Atticus’ back felt better than it had all week.

“Hey, what do you want to do for your birthday next month?” Atticus asked as Otto led them back up the stairs so they could sleep with Otto for the first time in days.

“I dunno. Haven’t really given it much thought…” he admitted.

Otto helped Atticus into the bed as he turned off the lights and settled in, himself.

“Hm. Well I’ll have to think of something amazing on my own, then,” Atticus said.

They snuggled into their husband as he laid down next to them. Then they hissed in discomfort at being on their side and relented to sleep on their back, instead, Otto’s arm moving to embrace them.

“I trust you will,” Otto said. “But...you know...it’s definitely not going to be as good as a banjo clock.” It was obvious he was teasing.

“I knooow. You really fucked up the precedent with that one, you know? Damn your kind heart,” they said.

“It really is a heavy burden to bear,” he said, dramatically.

“You’re so brave,” Atticus agreed.

“I know,” he said with a smile and kissed his partner on the forehead as they cuddled as far into his body as their back allowed them to squirm.

[sorry-moots]

Inversion of Genesis But I Changed It

i'm sorry this is late and short but college is really kickin my ass that's a lie i just procrastinated writing this and now i'm procrastinating my assignments too WHOOHOO character featured: scaramouche, haypasia, lumine, mention of tighnari cws: none :) wc: 1,016

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Chapter Nine

“You’re just in time,” Scaramouche says as you walk in. You had left to grab lunch and had been dragging your feet but the harbinger managed to pique your interest.

“Just in time for what?” you ask, eager to know what had your superior so excited. It’s not every day he’s this cheery and you were planning to enjoy his good humor.

“Take my hand and close your eyes,” he commands, and you do so without hesitation.

“Behold, my first follower.”

You open your eyes again and you’re no longer in the office. You’re now surrounded by trees and flowers and green glass. As you take everything in, you become aware of a young woman sleeping on a small bed in the arboretum. It takes a minute for you to process everything and reply.

“Your first follower? What about me?” you ask, faux offended.

“You’re not my follower,” he shoots back. “You're my right hand.”

“Oh really?” you tease. “And just what are my benefits as your right hand?”

He smirks as he answers, “Front row tickets to my neverending awesomeness.”

For once, you’re the one rolling your eyes. “I was hoping for PTO but that works, too, I guess.”

The banter eventually stops, but the atmosphere remains amiable and light. The two of you are content to watch the sleeping woman in the comfortable silence, until she receives a guest.

“Oh, this day just keeps getting better!” the harbinger exclaims. “Watch this, I’m gonna start talking to her– it’s gonna freak her out.”

You watch as the traveler looks around, searching for your boss, not realizing he is only there in spirit. Her little companion is flying around erratically like an anxious gnat.

“...I know you must be curious. I might as well tell you that I entered Haypasia’s consciousness the moment I sensed your touch.”

As they talk, you finally entertain the thoughts nagging at the back of your head.

If he was able to project himself to the traveler through Haypasia hundreds of miles away, how come he needs to hold my hand?

Clearly, he can maintain a telepathic connection without physical contact— how else would he be talking to the traveler? And she can definitely see him, too; she’s staring right at him. There’s no reason for Scaramouche to be holding your hand. He just is.

Just as that train of thought began to consume you, the harbinger’s voice took on a hint of ire, detectable only because you spend so much time with him. He doesn’t look mad, per se, but whatever the traveler said has soured his good mood.

“Both good and bad things can be considered gifts. After all, gods are not expected to abide by reason.”

Thunder rumbles, simultaneously distant and in your ears. Through your connection with Scaramouche, you can see the sky darkening above Pardis Dhyai. A lightning storm of his own creation. Screams quickly follow.

The greenhouse blinks out of view and you’re disoriented until you move and feel Scaramouche’s fingers tighten reflexively around yours. Realizing what he had done, he drops your hand like a squirming beetle.

A heavy silence hung in the air. Not wanting to further upset your boss, you went back to your desk to sort through the correspondence.

Hours pass and you're finally about to leave the office when you notice Scaramouche lost in thought. As wont to avoid irritating him as you are, your curiosity– or worry?– gets the best of you.

“Lord Scaramouche…?” you call out. He raises his head and you continue. “Did the traveler say something to trouble you?”

“That little twerp tried to talk me out of ascending to godhood,” he growled. “She said that my allies plan to infuse my consciousness with divine knowledge capsules. She said that I’ll change, that I won’t be the same.

“That they’re essentially turning me into a new person,” he finished.

You contemplated his words with a concentrated look. No words would reassure him, so you took a different approach.

“Well, are you sure you even want to ascend to godhood?”

The harbinger looks positively scandalized but you keep going. “I mean, think of all you’ve accomplished!

“You command an army of soldiers. You answer directly to Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa. You’re already really powerful on your own and, I dunno, I kinda like you the way you are now…” You trail off at the end, cracking your knuckles nervously. “Well, whatever you decide, I’ll support you.”

He’s still staring at you with his mouth agape, so you turn to walk back to your desk before a question comes to mind.

“By the way, sir… Why did you electrocute that one guy? Your accuracy is usually perfect, but just now you hit someone who was protecting Haypasia.”

Broken from his reverie, his lip curls. “I’m not a fan of foxes.”

*****

Before you parted ways at the hotel last, Scaramouche told you he didn’t need you to come, essentially giving you the day off.

Unfortunately for him, you hadn’t taken a day off since before you started working for him. With your overabundance of time, you found yourself itching to bake. Three hours later, you stood in the hotel’s kitchen with a perfect custard pudding. And no one to share it with.

You know he’s not a fan of sweets, but you ultimately decide that your boss should be your judge. In a blink, the pudding is packed into a basket and ready to go.

The walk to the base is most pleasant. A gentle breeze softens the sun's intensity and plays with your hair, caressing your face like a fond mother. The cheerful sun, the billowing clouds, and the song of the dusk birds made for the perfect ambience. Such tranquility could not, however, mask the banging coming from underground.

Without much thought, you pick up the pace. Scaramouche is probably getting rough with the soldiers again…

A moment later, you arrive at the mecha suit lab and push the doors open. To your horror, it is not a Fatuus that Scaramouche has engaged.

It’s the Traveler.

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tags: @lacunaanonymoused, @dollpoetwriting a/n: this would've been longer but then it would've turned into a 2-for-1 chapter and that would really irk me