#identity and each of them finding something recognizable in each other

[meredithbeckham]

a softer world, vampire academy. 

[asahicore]

kiwi and layla - sjy

pairing. jake x fem!reader synopsis. in which you mistake jake’s backpack for your own, making you each go home with the other’s bag. both of you are too curious for your own good, so you quickly find out that you excel in the subject the other is failing - a mutual tutoring agreement ensues, and it turns into much more than what you had expected. genre. high school au, f2l, lots of fluff and some angst too, f2l, shy reader x outgoing jake warnings. food & swearing, mention of parent death and divorce, kms jokes, jake being stupid but also really cute (lmk if i've missed any!) word count. 26.3k a/n. this is part of the unexpected collab !!! go check out the other fics and caelin thank u for hosting <333 hope u guys like this one, it took me a while but i had so so much fun writing it !!! i love my jakey in here he's a little bit confused but he's got the spirit. @zreamy thanks for being the world's awesomest beta reader and a decent friend ig... 2 baddies wouldnt be the same without you... lifeguard wet body sunghoon coming soon guys dont miss it! as always pls remember how important reblogs and feedback is for us writers!!! it's what keeps us going <3 enjoy!!

listen to the playlist!

This was not your backpack. 

In your defense, it looked so similar to yours - scratch that, it was the exact same as yours - that you couldn’t possibly have been able to tell the difference between the two bags until you’d opened one of them. Just a basic black Eastpak that probably a hundred other kids in your school owned with nothing to tell them apart, because you hadn’t had the mind to add a little something to it and make it recognizable. You hadn’t really needed to - your backpack was always on your back, next to your seat or in your locker. There was no way you might lose it or mistake it with another.

Until today, obviously. Instead of having a chill last class before spring break like every other teacher, your psycho math teacher Mr Choi had decided to give you a major test on this otherwise beautiful Friday afternoon. While other students watched a movie or played Kahoot, you were stuck in a cold classroom with algebra questions in front of you. Mr Choi had argued that this would be better than having a test after the holidays and ruining your time off with studying, but a test was a test, and math was math, so you hated the idea anyway. 

To eliminate all cheating possibilities, Mr Choi made his students only take a pencil and eraser with them, leave their bag at the back of the classroom and put their phone in a box he kept on his desk. Plus, with his hawk eyes watching intently, there was no way to sneak answers on a small sheet of paper or even on your palm. 

When the test was over, your brain was so fried and you were so eager to get the hell out of there that you didn’t even notice the two identical black backpacks next to each other, you just grabbed the first one you saw, not even questioning that it might not be yours.

And indeed, yours it was not. From your snooping around, you quickly found out it belonged to one Jake Sim. 

You knew Jake. Although you’d been attending the same school for the past three years, you could probably count the number of times you’d talked on one hand - but you knew him. Or at least, you knew of him. You knew that he was good at STEM subjects and that he was on the soccer team; you knew he was a really sweet guy and was easy to talk to, even for someone shy like you. 

Most importantly, you knew he was friends with Park Sunghoon. This was important because you had liked Park Sunghoon since the moment you’d laid eyes on him - or rather, your whole friend group had. It might’ve sounded extremely odd to others, but you and your friends had a few random people at school you liked to keep tabs on or create backstories for, and Sunghoon, because of his dashing looks that had struck all four of you in your first week of freshman year, was one of your victims. Well, you liked to think of them as characters on a TV show rather than victims, but to each his own. Your other characters included that popular sophomore who already considered herself a celebrity because of her ten thousand followers on TikTok anyway, the French and Spanish teachers you were sure had a thing going on, and that one guy in Yena’s biology class that only showed up every two weeks but always looked stoned (hat guy, Chaewon liked to call him, even you’d never once seen him with a hat on). It was all harmless, really - none of you ever actually went up and talked to them, just discussed them among yourselves.

Perhaps Sunghoon was different, because each of you had had a class with him at some point, so you’d all had at least shared a word with him. You probably hadn’t talked to him more times than you’d talked to Jake, so the information you knew about him was pretty surface-level - he was an ice skater, but everyone knew that, and he was shy like you, which was immediately noticeable. He also had one of the most handsome faces you’d ever seen. But again, everyone who saw him knew that.

You, Yena and Chaewon had debated whether one of you should just go ahead and make a move (Hyewon didn’t participate because she already had a boyfriend, but she was all for approaching the boy). You guessed you could describe what you felt towards Sunghoon as a sort of crush, even if it was one you shared with your friends - you found him cute, and you got nervous when he was around. But you were more the watch-from-afar-and-pine type, so you were satisfied with liking him from a distance. You didn’t think you actually had the guts to strike a conversation with him - that was more Chaewon’s thing.

However, this didn’t mean you weren’t curious about the contents of his best friend’s backpack. Your being shy didn’t mean you weren’t interested in other people’s lives - if anything, you were quite nosy. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but you were just a regular teenage girl, so this was fine, right? After just a few minutes of snooping, you found out Jake Sim wasn’t hiding any big state secrets in his Eastpak, anyway. Just some textbooks, notebooks, and a lot of single sheets of paper. It was pretty messy in there. 

Your idea of him being good at STEM subjects was correct - he kept all of his graded tests in the sleeve pocket of his math notebook, and there was not a single one that had received a note under 95. He even seemed to be doing some extracurricular exercises - there were formulae that were completely unfamiliar to you and that you were sure you hadn’t done in class. You found it slightly insane, but that might have just been because you despised math and wouldn’t understand why someone would want to do more of it than was required of them. 

His English homework was another story. His essays had more red from the teacher’s pen than his own black ink, and from the grades on his reading comprehension tests, you highly doubted he’d actually read any of the assigned books. You weren’t in the same English class but apparently had the same teacher, Ms Park, so you were studying the same thing. You couldn’t help but cringe as you read his answers on a Pride and Prejudice reading test - he seemingly kept mixing the sisters up, assigning actions and character traits to Lydia that clearly belonged to Jane. At least he somewhat got Darcy right, writing that “he’s probably not as bad as he looks,” with no further explanation. 

As you aimlessly flipped through his English notebook, curious about the way he took his notes - or if he even took any - you noticed some scribbles in the margins. Looking closer, some of them were in his handwriting while others were in an unfamiliar one. It looked like some sort of conversation, so you assumed the other writing belonged to his deskmate. You also did this with your friends in classes where the teacher was very strict about no chatting in class.

dude coach said if I fail any of my classes I would be out of the team, you read Jake’s handwriting.

Wait seriously????

yeah and I suck at english so Im scared it might actually happen

You just need to study more bro

bro I DO but this shit is hard

Then find someone to help you

neither of you guys is that good in that subject either tho

Ok ouch but also just find someone else then

bro who

IDK man 

Y/N maybe ? she’s good at English and she’s nice so she might say yes 

there you go about y/n again dude MAYBE you ask HER to teach you some sonnets

Shut up you’re the one who needs help dumbass

whatever isn’t it weird just asking her randomly though like i dont want her to feel like she has to say yes

Lol if she sees your grades she might do it out of pity

fuck u man

You were surprised to see your own name written there - it felt weird knowing that Jake and his friend were talking about you, for some reason. And what if that friend was Sunghoon? You had a hard time believing he not only knew you existed, but thought of you as good at English and nice. You liked to think both of these things were true. 

He was also spot-on about saying you would agree to helping out Jake in those subjects, but what he got wrong was thinking you’d do it out of pity. Clearly, you and Jake were in very similar positions. You didn’t have any sort of club you’d be kicked out of if you failed a class, but it sure as hell wouldn’t look good on your college applications, so you needed to get your math grades up. 

Jake and you both desperately needed something the other person could help with, so you had a feeling he wouldn’t turn down the offer that was brewing in your head.

—

This was not Jake’s backpack.

He noticed it right away - it was much heavier than his own and the straps were tighter around his shoulders than they should be. He looked inside for some clues about who it might belong to, and luckily, the first thing he found was a journal that had Y/N’S DIARY written on the cover page in big, pink letters. 

Unluckily, however, he’d also noticed that you had practically sprinted out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, and indeed, you were already far gone when he tried looking for you around school. He had to get to soccer practice anyway, so he put the issue to the side for the time being.

When he got home, he had to shower then have dinner, so it wasn’t until 8 p.m. that he remembered he had your backpack. He had meant to text you straightaway about it, and he knew it was wrong to look into someone’s belongings, but he couldn’t help himself, especially when his best friend Sunghoon had liked you for ages. Maybe this was an opportunity to find out more about you.

Your mind-blowing grades in English don’t come as much of a surprise to him, and after reading through your most recent essay, he thought you definitely deserved them. Your essay was on a Shakespeare play he had never heard of - you apparently also had Ms Park for English, and he didn’t know she was doing Shakespeare in class, so he wondered for a second if you were actually crazy enough to read another book and study it. As if 300 pages of Jane Austen weren’t enough as it was. 

What shocked him were your math grades. It was like looking into a fucked-up mirror: while you excelled at English, you sucked at math; while he excelled at math, he sucked at English. You were just as close to failing your math class as he was at failing English.

Now that he thought about it, maybe Sunghoon’s idea hadn’t been so dumb - you could help him out, and he had an actual argument as to why you should, rather than just using pity on you.

As he put your stuff back in your bag, he was reminded of something - your diary. For some reason, the pretty floral pattern on the cover made him feel even worse for opening the journal in the first place, but he did it anyway. Either you’d only just picked up the habit of writing in a diary or you had finished your previous one recently, but this one seemed pretty new, as only about ten pages had been filled with your neat handwriting. Judging from the dates at the top of almost every page, you wrote in there everyday, and Jake only felt even worse that you hadn’t been able to write in it that day.

Still, he flicked to the first page and started reading. And he read and read, unable to take his eyes away from your diary. He thought he wouldn’t have cared much and a page would have satisfied his curiosity, but the way you wrote about the people around you and about yourself fascinated him. Basic high school things like friend drama and annoying teachers actually became interesting through your words. You didn’t use particularly complicated sentences or unheard-of words, on the contrary, you used simple language, and that spoke a lot more to Jake than any of the classics he’d attempted to read for class. 

And then, he saw an all too familiar name in an entry dated from just a few days ago. 

I sat next to Sunghoon today. It was during physics and both of our desk partners were absent, so Mrs Kim made me change seats. She always does this, and I used to wonder whether she hated to see an empty seat or to see a student sitting on their own, but whatever the reason, today, I was just happy about it. This isn’t our first time sitting next to each other in class, but I was still nervous, since I wasn’t expecting it. I hope he couldn’t feel the awkwardness practically oozing off of me or the way I very obviously struggled with the exercises (obviously, anything to do with math is not my forte). We shared my textbook because he’d forgotten his, and he showed me his notes when he saw I couldn’t keep up with Mrs Kim as she told us what to write down. We only exchanged a few words but I was satisfied when class was over. It’s odd, because you’d think someone would want to talk to the person they like and get to know them more, but I don’t feel that with Sunghoon. Maybe it’s because we’re both so introverted, and he seems to have just as hard a time as I do starting conversations, so I’ve sort of accepted our silent fate. I’m fine just continuing to steal glances at him from across the cafeteria. 

After that, there were a few more pages of writing up until yesterday's entry, but it was the only mention of Sunghoon. Jake had apparently been wrong to think that a girl’s diary would be full of rantings about her crush and things along the lines of “omg, he looked at me today”. 

But you had very clearly referred to Sunghoon as the person you liked, and Jake wasn’t going to let that go so easily. This was precious information that he held in his hands now, so he had to figure out how to deal with it properly for your sake as well as his friend’s.

Turns out there was more he could help you with than just algebra.

—

Seeing Jake Sim in a setting other than school was slightly odd, if you were being completely honest. 

You had just been about to text him about the backpack mix-up when you’d received a message from the man himself, asking if you could meet up the next day to exchange them. In response, you’d asked where you should meet, thinking he’d offer either his house or yours, or some halfway point between them, but he surprised you by proposing some café in the center of town. They have good hot chocolate there, he’d said, and that had been enough to convince you. 

And also I have something I want to talk to you about. 

Your stomach had turned at this message - what on Earth could Jake Sim need to discuss with you had been your first thought, and then you realized you also had plans you wanted to share with him. So his idea of going to a café was actually good for you, too.

You’d only been waiting for about five minutes when he appeared at the café, red and panting from seemingly sprinting to his destination. 

“Y/N, I’m sooo sorry,” he immediately said when he saw you waiting. “I was planning to be early, but when I got on the bus I realized I literally forgot your bag, so I had to go back but the next bus wasn’t for another twenty minutes so I just ran the whole way here, and now I’m all sweaty, and I’m late, and I’m really sorry.”

He’d rushed through his sentence and was breathing heavily as he looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. He seemed so genuinely sorry for such a small thing that after your surprise faded, you started laughing. It was his turn to be surprised, and he immediately stopped talking at the sound of your soft giggles.

“It’s okay, Jake. I haven’t even been waiting five minutes,” you explained, smiling. “Let’s just go in, yeah?”

Jake’s heart did something weird just then, and the feeling was so unfamiliar and confusing that he decided to promptly ignore it. As if in a daze, he stood still for a couple of seconds until the sound of a bell ringing, the one the café had on its doors to signify the entrance or exit of a customer, snapped him out of it. He followed you into the shop, let you order and pay for you both (“I’m the one who took the wrong bag, it’s the least I can do,” you’d said) and sat across from you at a booth in the back.

You gave each other your respective bags back, then started chatting as you sipped on your hot chocolates (Jake had been right - they really were delicious). He was surprisingly easy to talk to, and whether he sensed you were a reserved person or was just naturally talkative, you liked that he both managed to do most of the talking and ask you loads of questions at once. Usually, you wouldn’t have really cared to listen to someone go on and on about their passion for soccer and the recent game that their team had won, but for some reason, you were hooked on Jake’s every word. The way his eyes widened in excitement as he recounted the winning goal he scored, the way the volume of his voice decreased as he filled you in on the team gossip even though no one was listening to your conversation, the way his grin turned into a proud smirk as he mentioned his coach congratulating him - every single one of his actions had you mesmerized. You’d never seen anyone so expressive in their speech, never seen anyone punctuate every sentence with a movement or a facial expression. It was just fun, listening to him.

Even when he didn’t talk, he stayed expressive. He asked you whether you did anything outside of school, and he listened intently as you told him about the theater group you’re in, humming and nodding and laughing at all the right moments. Usually, you wouldn’t have talked about it for more than thirty seconds, afraid to bore others with unnecessary details, but Jake’s reactions and the questions he asked made you actually feel listened to and like what you were talking about was interesting. So you grew more confident and told him what you loved about acting and about theater, about your own gossip (the arrogant actress who got the lead role and thought she was better than everyone else, that one guy who was clearly flirting with three girls at the same time), and you almost couldn’t believe Jake seemed so entertained by your stories. 

“So, you said your group focused on more classic plays, right? Does that mean you’re good at English Lit?”

With his spoon, Jake scooped some whipped cream into his mouth, hoping he was appearing as nonchalant as he was trying to be. He had to make you think he’d deduced that just now and not because he had been snooping through your backpack just the night prior. 

You, however, could not have cared less how he’d figured it out - you were just grateful he had segued into this topic of school and grades, because you’d been wanting to bring it up yourself but had no idea how.

“Um, yeah, actually, it’s my best subject. Math, on the other hand…”

You chuckled as his eyes widened and he leaned in across the table, pointing his spoon at you as he spoke. “See, that’s interesting, because math is my best subject, but I suck at English Lit.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, trying to sound genuinely surprised even though this piece of information was not at all new to you.

“Yeah,” he said, looking back down at his almost-finished drink with a small smile on his face.

“You know-”

“You know-”

You and Jake had spoken at the same time, and your eyes locked for a second before you started laughing. You gestured at him to go on first.

“I actually need pretty urgent help in English. Coach said he’ll put us out of the team if we fail even just one of our courses, and I’m very close to failing that class.” He took a moment to let out a sigh. “So, if you want, we could help each other out. Me with math, and you with English.” 

His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and he bit his lip as he looked at you expectantly. You thought he looked far too nervous for such a simple request, expression more like a boy who’d just asked his crush to the prom rather than offering mutual help you both desperately needed. You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips - you had never known Jake Sim to be so… cute. But he was waiting for an answer, so you pushed the thought out of your head.

“That’s a great idea, actually,” you replied, as if you hadn’t had the exact same idea. You were just relieved you hadn’t even had to bring it up yourself. “I also really can’t afford to fail math. It would look terrible on college applications.”

Jake let out a long, loud exhale. “God, yeah, college, I hadn’t even thought of that. Even more motivation to get better grades now,” he said with a chuckle.

You chuckled along, then cleared your throat and sat up straighter. You watched with amusement as Jake mirrored your actions and even the fake serious frown in your brows. You presented your hand for him to shake, which he did without hesitation.

“So it’s a deal then. We’ll tutor each other until we’ve gotten our grades up.”

“Deal,” he replied. As you both withdrew your hands, he dropped his serious facade and burst into giggles, a sound you hadn’t expected from the boy but somehow fit him well. You watched his face closely for a second, noticing the curl of his lips and the crinkle at the corner of his eyes, before breaking into laughter yourself.

You stayed in the café for another half hour, going over details of where and when you’d meet, of what exactly you needed help with (“Everything,” you’d said, to which Jake had replied “Same”), and just talked some more.

“I’m taking the 53 that way,” Jake said when you exited the café, pointing towards the bus stop.

“Oh, so am I!” you exclaimed.

“Seriously?! What’s your stop?”

And that’s how you and Jake figured out you only lived two bus stops away from each other. 

“That’s so cool! It’ll make it easy to meet up then,” he said, and you hummed in agreement. After a pause, he added: “But if we live so close to each other, how come we didn’t go to the same schools earlier? Aren’t you usually supposed to go to the one in your district?”

“I used to live in another part of town,” you explained. “Then my parents divorced when I was in middle school, and I stayed with my dad because he lived closer to the school I was at, but I moved to my mom’s place for high school.”

“‘Cause she lives closer?”

“Yeah, basically.” There was more to it, but you didn’t think Jake would be particularly interested in your parental issues - although you surprised yourself for even considering telling him. If Jake sensed that you weren’t saying everything, he didn’t push, just swiftly changed the topic as you waited for the bus to come.

When you got home some time later, the first thing you did was open your diary and start writing. It had felt wrong not to write in it even just for a day, so it was a relief to feel the pages between your fingers and the familiar scent of the paper and your perfumed pen. You wrote without thinking too much, simply letting all of your musings out into your diary and freely brushing the tip of your pen across the pages. 

You didn’t ever reread your entries right after writing them, but if you had that day, you might have noticed all you could write about was the boy you’d drank a hot chocolate with.

—

Spring break week passed by far too quickly, and it was on the first Monday back at school that you and Jake met again. He had soccer practice on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, while you had theater rehearsals on Thursdays and Saturdays, so you’d agreed to meet up every Monday and Wednesday after school. Since his mother worked as the school nurse, she drove him to and from school everyday - so on Monday, you met Jake in front of the nurse’s station, waiting for his mom to wrap things up before she drove you both to their home.

You had been surprised to learn that the kind nurse that never asked too many questions and always let students take a nap if they didn’t feel well was Jake’s mom, but upon reflection, it made sense. Once you knew, it was almost obvious that she had raised him - they shared the same friendliness, the same comforting smile and the same ability to make conversation. The whole ride home, she asked you about yourself and thanked you for agreeing to tutor “our little Jakey,” because “God knows he needs the help.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh when a blush crept on Jake’s face and he looked out the passenger seat window with an embarrassed frown, muttering something like “Thanks a lot, Mom.”

She noticed his reaction and laughed along with you. “I’m just saying, Jakey-poo. It’s good to know to ask for help when you need it,” she cooed, reaching a hand out to ruffle his hair. This only made Jake groan loudly and hide his face in his hands. You didn’t know Jake very well, but this flustered, red-faced side of him was definitely one you liked seeing.

The first thing that greeted you when you reached Jake’s house was a happy welcome home bark.

“You have a dog?!” you exclaimed, unable to reel your excitement in.

“Yeah! This is Layla,” Jake said, giving energetic rubs to the Border Collie that made her whole body shake side-to-side but that she seemed to thoroughly enjoy. 

“Hi, Layla,” you cooed, crouching down to her level to let her sniff you. She decided you were a person worthy of petting her. “She’s so cute!”

“I think she likes you,” Jake said, a grin on his face, as he watched Layla presenting her belly to you and asking for scratches there. “Do you have a dog?”

“We have a Corgi at home. And a cat, too.”

“That must be fun,” Jake chuckled. “Do they get along?”

“Depends. They have a bit of a love-hate relationship.” You looked up at Jake, and it was uncharacteristically quiet as you locked eyes for a couple of seconds. You both looked away at the same time, surprised by the sudden eye contact.

You gave Layla one last rub and lifted yourself up. “Um, should we get started?” 

Jake paused for a second as if he’d forgotten what you were here for in the first place, then started nodding his head quickly. “Right, yeah. Let’s go to my room. Downstairs is just one big room and my mom will probably watch TV or make dinner or something, so it might be distracting…” he explained, lightly scratching the back of his neck. It seemed like he was embarrassed to be bringing you to his room, which you couldn’t help but find endearing.

“Okay, sounds good,” you said with a smile, hoping it’ll reassure him.

You followed him up to his room, ignoring his complaints as you lingered on the framed photos on the wall next to the stairs and giggled at his baby pictures. 

“Do not look at those,” he said with a warning tone that didn’t scare you in the slightest. When you didn’t listen, he grabbed your hand that had been pointing at a photo of baby Jake in the bathtub and forced you to keep walking.

“Why?” you asked, a slight whine to your voice.

“‘Cause it’s embarrassing! I was an ugly baby.”

“What?! You were so cute!”

“Whatever. I’d rather study English than talk about this, and that’s saying something.”

When you looked at Jake, you were surprised to find that he actually seemed upset about this. You weren’t sure what was so wrong with looking at his baby pictures, but the last thing you wanted to do was make him mad, so you stayed quiet and continued your way to his room. Once there, although you were infinitely curious about all the posters, pictures, figurines, trophies, and other small tokens of Jake’s life, you didn’t ask him about any of them, just sat next to him at his desk and opened The Picture of Dorian Grey, the book you had both been studying in Ms Park’s class.

You’d agreed on spending forty-five minutes on English, have a small break, then spend forty-five minutes on Math. It wasn’t a lot, but you both had other homework and things outside of school you needed to do, so you’d decided to start out that way and see if it worked out.

You were glad to see how seriously Jake was taking this - he listened intently to what you said and asked questions when he didn’t understand something. You quickly figured out that what he didn’t like about English Literature was that the answers weren’t as straightforward or as logical as they were in math, and even worse, that multiple answers were possible depending on the reader’s interpretation. 

“It just all feels like a guessing game,” he said, resting the side of his head on one of his palms. “How am I supposed to know what this dude meant? And if it can be analyzed in different ways, how can Ms Park tell me the way I understand it is wrong?”

“It’s all about the way you justify it,” you explained. “You can’t just say whatever. Ms Park will look out for how you use the text to support your answers.” You then went on to pick out a specific part of the book, asking Jake to analyze Dorian’s mindset in that scene. 

“He sounds like he’s going insane,” Jake said flatly when he was done reading, getting a chuckle out of you.

“Exactly. How do you know that?”

“I don’t know, just the words he uses,” Jake replies, shrugging.

“Okay, underline those words,” you instructed gently. Jake sighed, but he complied.

“There.” 

“Good. What can you say about those words?” When Jake just looked at you like a lost puppy, you reformulated your question. “What do they have in common? What type of words are they? Are they common nouns, verbs…”

Jake looked back at the words he’d underlined on the page. “They’re… adjectives?” he said, tone unsure.

“Exactly!”

Jake paused. “So?”

“So now you can say that the author uses many adjectives to convey the gradual loss of sanity of the main character.”

“Oh.”

When you looked at Jake, he wore an expression like the words on the page were finally starting to make sense to him. “That’s the content. You can also look at the structure. See how many punctuation marks there are? Commas, semi-colons, question marks… It’s like he keeps cutting himself off. His thoughts are all over the place.”

Jake nodded slowly. “So, I just need to look out for things like that?”

“Basically, yeah. And the more you practice, the more these things will stand out to you. It actually becomes somewhat repetitive sometimes.”

Jake let out a shaky breath. “That’s actually relieving to hear,” he said with a chuckle.

Thirty minutes passed by like this as you showed Jake ways to make sense of a literary text. When the timer rang, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms out wide with a sigh. He put his hands behind his head and let it hang back, and the way your stomach flipped at the sight of his exposed neck and Adam’s apple made you look away immediately. You could barely meet his eyes as he turned his head to look at you, still in that same position, and, with a smirk, asked if you were ready for some snacks. 

You gulped, trying to look as normal as possible. “Uh, yeah, sure!”

Downstairs, Jake presented you with all sorts of snacks - there were so many, you felt like you were in a convenience store. This was worlds away from your ingredient-only household. You opted for some biscuits and a banana while Jake made himself a bowl of cereal. A very distracting ten-minute long argument then ensued about the order of milk and cereal - horrifyingly, Jake poured his milk before his cereal. You thought it was a myth that some people actually did it that way, but Jake very proudly defended his choice. 

“I bet you eat pizza with pineapple on it, too,” you said half-jokingly, only for your joke to punch you right back in the face.

“Duh,” Jake answered.

You could only shake your head in defeat. “Let’s just get back to studying before I murder you.”

“Damn, Y/N,” Jake said, laughing. “That’s harsh.”

“And you’re a freak,” you retorted, a grin blooming on your lips.

“You know, you remind me of my friend Jay,” Jake mused as you walked back up the stairs. “He has so many of these small battles that he just won’t let go of. He got super worked up over an argument about mint chocolate chip ice cream once.”

“Let me guess, you like that ice cream?”

Jake shrugged. “It’s not my favorite, but I’ll have it once in a while.”

“God, Sim, you just get worse and worse.”

You sat back down at his desk and started eating. “I bet you think I’m weird for liking math too, right?”

“That’s the worst offense of them all.” 

Jake’s sudden quietness caught you off guard. When you turned your head to look at him, he was already gazing at you with a smile and a sort of thoughtful glint to his eyes, resting his chin on his palm. It sounded like he was thinking out loud when he spoke next. “Guess we’re perfect opposites of each other. Like two peas in a pod!”

The realization of what he’d said dawned upon him as soon as the words left his mouth. He slowly lifted his head as his eyes widened. “I don’t mean- just, you know, since you’re good at English and I’m good at math, and- you know… I didn’t mean it in a weird way, or anything…”

His eyes kept glancing back and forth between you and his bowl of cereal, as if he was scared of looking directly at you but wanted to check your reaction. 

As a smile grew on your face, you kept your eyes trained on your biscuits so he wouldn’t see your flustered expression. But when you looked at him again, he held your gaze, mouth slightly agape. You didn’t have it in you that he had gotten the idiom completely wrong. “I know, don’t worry.” You chuckled. “We are opposites of each other. You just better be as good at teaching math as I am at teaching English,” you teased.

You watched as a smirk tugged one corner of Jake’s lips up and he raised an eyebrow. “Who said you were good at teaching English?”

You gasped. “You said you understood better now!”

Jake’s smile softened as he giggled. “I’m just teasing. You are a good teacher.”

You sat up straighter at the compliment, a proud smile on your face. “Your turn, Mr Sim. I’m all ears.”

“Right,” he said, mirroring your posture. “Shall we start by going over Mr Choi’s test from last week?” 

Your smile dropped instantly at this. Reluctantly, you fished your graded paper out of your bag. You already knew Mr Choi was a psychopath, but you still didn’t understand where he found the will to grade thirty papers over the weekend. You avoided Jake’s gaze as you handed him your test with a big, red, circled D- at the top.

You cringed as Jake sighed. “At least it’s not an F, right?” he said in what you could tell was an attempt at reassurance but somehow only made you feel worse. He looked over your answers quickly, trying to find what in particular you struggled with. “All right. Let’s start from the beginning, yeah?”

For the next forty-five minutes, Jake went over each test question with you, breaking them down and explaining how to solve them in a way you understood. The words he used were so much clearer than the half-assed explanations you were used to from Mr Choi, and for once, math actually made some sort of sense. Your brain still felt broken after almost an hour of numbers and greek letters, but at least, you felt smarter rather than dumber at the end of it. You had never been more grateful for the sound of a phone alarm than the one signaling tutoring was over. 

“That wasn’t half-bad, right?” Jake asked with a wide grin.

You felt so tired, you could probably pass out right then and there, but Jake looked so proud of himself after you had been able to complete an exercise correctly on your own that you didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. “Right,” you replied, mirroring his grin. “You’re an okay teacher, I guess.”

He jokingly glared and tutted at you, but you both laughed right after. “I need to walk Layla, so I can walk you home, if you want?” he offered as you started packing your things. His words had an uncertain tone to them, as if he wasn’t sure you’d still want to spend time with him after this - but it only took you a second of thinking to realize you’d rather continue hanging out with him than going home on your own.

“Sure! I need to walk Kiwi too, actually.”

“Your dog’s name is Kiwi?!”

“Yes,” you said, chuckling at his fascinated tone.

“That’s an adorable name.”

“Thanks, I chose it.”

“Oh, then I take it back. Worst name I’ve ever heard for a dog.”

“Hey!” you exclaimed, lightly hitting him on the head with your math notebook, making him raise a hand in self-defense as he laughed.

“Sorry, sorry. Does your cat also have a fruit name?” 

A pause. “Mango,” you mumbled, and he immediately burst into laughter again. You side-eyed him as you zipped up your bag.

“Wow, you have amazing taste in pet names, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you said, laughing along. Then you realized something, and you suddenly stopped laughing, looking up at Jake with wide eyes that made him slightly start to panic. “Oh my God, Jake, are our dogs going to meet?”

“Our dogs are going to meet,” he echoed in a sort of fascinated whisper. You both understood the other - dogs becoming friends was the cutest thing ever.

“Let’s go,” you whispered back excitedly.

When you reached the living room downstairs, you bid Mrs Sim goodbye, then went to the entrance to put your shoes back on. “You two sure get along well,” you heard her say to her son with a suggestive tone. Even though she had dropped the volume of her voice, the door was wide open and there were only a few meters between you, so you’d heard her loud and clear. 

“Geez, Mom,” Jake groaned, seemingly irked by his mom’s insinuation.

“It’s just you’ve never brought a girl home, Jakey-”

“Okay, we’re leaving now! Layla, come!”

You hadn’t even realized how wide you were grinning until Jake saw you tying your shoelaces and grumbled “What are you smiling so hard for.”

“Nothing,” you giggled, and your smile grew as you watched a grin break through his pretend-upset expression.

You sighed contentedly as you stepped outside, letting the crisp early April air hit your face. You tightened your scarf around your neck and buried your hands in your pocket and you and Jake started walking side by side, Layla happily leading the way. The streets were fairly quiet at this time of day, save for the yells of children still playing in their backyards before dinner and a few cars of people coming home late from work.

Only the first five seconds of the walk were silent, until you couldn’t contain yourself anymore. “So, never brought a girl home, huh?” you asked with a teasing smirk.

Jake let out an offended scoff and looked up to the sky as if God could help him out of this one. Sadly, He didn’t, so Jake had to find an answer himself. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

“Why not?”

Pouting, Jake spared you a sideway glance. “Because you’re a girl,” he replied, voice lowered to a mumble.

You chuckled at this. “Very astute observation, Jake.”

“No, I- Ugh,” he groaned before laughing along with you. “I don’t need a girl to know how bad I am with- well, with girls.”

“I can help with that,” you said before you really thought about it. “I mean, I’m not a love expert by any means, but I can maybe give, I don’t know, pointers or something if there’s someone you like-”

“There’s no one I like,” Jake quickly cut in. “Um, not right now, at least.”

“O-okay,” you replied, nodding. “That’s fine.” 

“What about you? Do you like anyone?”

As Jake asked the question, he realized he already knew the answer - you liked Sunghoon. How could he forget?! Half of his plan had been to make you get closer to his friend, but he hadn’t even started thinking about that yet. In his defense, he’d come up with that plan three days ago.

Your answer surprised him. “Um, no, me neither. Not right now, at least,” you said, repeating his words with a smile on your face. You locked eyes for a second before looking away at the same time, chuckling.

“Right,” he said. He knew what he had read in your diary, so maybe you were just too shy to admit you had a crush on his friend of all people.

An unexpected awkwardness settled between the two of you, and you more than anything wanted it to go away. Even though it’d only been a few days since you and Jake had started getting to know each other, you already felt comfortable enough to be yourself around him, and it usually took you weeks before reaching that level with anyone. This hadn’t happened since you met Yena and Hyewon at the beginning of high school - they had been friends since middle school, and so had you and Chaewon, and when the four of you met, you had instant chemistry. But maybe it was slightly too early to start talking about crushes with Jake.

For once, you were the one to break the silence - you asked him whether he knew what he wanted to do after school. Basic question, but you were genuinely curious. 

Looking a little bashful, he confessed his dream had always been to be a math teacher and soccer coach at a middle or high school. You told him he already had the talent for it, and when he blushed at your words, you made sure to tease him for it.  

“I’m not sure yet,” you said when he returned the question. “I know I wanna go to college and continue doing English Lit and theater there, but that’s about it.”

“That’s already good enough,” Jake said with a smile. “Still got time to figure out what comes after, right?”

You naturally mirrored his smile - there was something contagious about Jake’s puppyish grin that made it hard not to smile yourself. “Right.”

The three of you reached your house quickly after that. Your mom still hadn’t come home from work, so Kiwi was even more excited than usual for your arrival home. You and Jake watched fondly as your dogs sniffed each other for a few seconds before starting to run around together. The fact that they got along made you really happy, perhaps unreasonably so, and you started bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet as you watched them play. “Our dogs are friends!” you exclaimed excitedly. 

When you turned to look at Jake, he wasn’t watching the dogs like you had been - he was gazing straight at you, eyes soft with something that made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t look away, and it was only after a few seconds that he seemed to snap out of the sort of daze he was in. He cleared his throat and you finally tore your eyes away from him.

“Let me just- Kiwi! I need to put his leash around him,” you said, speaking quickly to dissipate the weird atmosphere as best as you could. You led Jake down the path you usually took with Kiwi that led to a park in your neighborhood, and you were relieved when normal conversation started again.

Jake insisted on walking you back to your house even though he had left his earlier. He made a whole show of not going until you’d walked inside and closed the door, so you’d rushed to your window to shout his name and wave goodbye at him, which made him laugh.

You turned back to Kiwi when Jake and Layla had turned a corner and you couldn’t watch them anymore. “Are you happy you made a new friend, Kiwi?”

The Corgi barked happily at you in response - probably more at hearing his name than because he understood your question, but still, you liked to think you could communicate with your dog on such a level. You chuckled and took him in your arms. “Me too.”

—

Apparently, you couldn’t even wave to someone in the hallway without being interrogated about it anymore.

“Y/N, did you just say hi to Jake Sim?” Chaewon asked like you’d just insulted her whole family.

It was 10 a.m. on a simple Tuesday morning, the day after Jake and you had studied together for the first time, and you’d just walked past the boy - so of course, you said hi to him. Maybe, your heart started beating slightly faster when you’d noticed him approaching. Maybe, it was nice to be on the receiving end of his friendly grin.

“Yes?” you replied, sentence coming out more like a question.

“Since when do you say hi to Jake Sim?!” 

“Since today, I guess.”

“But why?!” She’d raised her voice so much, you’d gotten strange looks from other students in the hallway. 

“I told you!”

She shook her head slowly at you as if to say, No you didn’t!

You rolled your eyes and sighed. Chaewon and her early onset short-term memory loss. “The backpack thing? And agreeing to tutoring each other? I wrote to the group chat about this!”

“Oh, that! Of course I remember that,” she said, even though you knew she had forgotten about it and remembered it just now. “So, has that started already?”

You reached the classroom for your next class and sat down in your usual seats next to each other, waiting for the teacher to arrive. Busy hallways like these were the perfect place for gossip, because they were loud and nobody paid attention to others’ conversations. “Yeah, yesterday afternoon.”

Chaewon gasped. “And you didn’t tell us?!”

“Will you quiet down? I was going to see and tell you guys today anyway.”

“Okay, so, tell me about it.”

“But-”

“Tell. Me.”

You wouldn’t see Yena and Hyewon until lunch in two hours, and you knew Chaewon didn’t have the patience to wait until then. So you sighed again and obliged, telling her about your afternoon with Jake in every detail you could remember, because she would ask about insignificant things anyway. 

To your surprise, the first thing she said when you were done talking was this: “Y/N, do you like Jake?”

Your mouth opened slightly in shock at the question, but before you could even retort, you started giggling. “No, I don’t,” you said in a way that sounded like you very much did.

“Oh my God! You so do!” Chaewon said, giggling along with you. “You whore, you’ve only talked to him, like, twice,” she joked.

You gasped fake-dramatically and slapped her arm. “Oh please, look at Hyewon and Jaemin, they started dating after a week of talking.”

“Yes, and they’ve been going one year strong, so clearly, you need to ask Jake out and get this over with. You’ll get a boyfriend and a math tutor all-in-one, it’s a perfect deal!”

“Don’t get too carried away, okay? Jake and I are friends. Like you said, we barely know each other right now.”

You meant this - sure, you had had a really good time with Jake both times you saw him, and you were looking forward to your next tutoring session, but you chalked it up to the excitement of making a new friend. Plus, barely last week you felt some sort of way towards his best friend - wouldn’t it be weird to practically transfer your feelings from Sunghoon to Jake?

“Whatever. Yena and Hyewon are gonna freak when I tell them,” Chaewon said excitedly.

You shook your head at your friend but couldn’t keep down the amused grin on your face. “You guys are insane.”

“Oh please, like you’re not the president of our Park Sunghoon fanclub. I can’t believe you’re leaving us for his best friend!”

“Hey, if anything, less competition for you, right?”

Chaewon opened her mouth to say something, but the teacher arrived, starting the lesson before having even put her bag down - Mrs Lee always arrived late but never wasted a second of class when she was in the room. Your friend resorted to sticking her tongue out at you instead, and you chuckled at her childishness as you opened your History notebook. 

—

Jake was a complete, total, utter idiot. His plan had consisted of two things only, and he’d somehow managed to forget one of them, even after talking about it with you, albeit vaguely. It had taken him two weeks and one Park Sunghoon to even remember it.

Between Jake’s soccer practice, Sunghoon’s ice skating practice and Jay’s being away at boarding school, the three friends only had one night every week on which they were all free - Friday night. So, every Friday, they planned some sort of hang out at one of their houses and gamed or watched movies all night.

Kinda like date night, but for bros.

This was one of those bro nights; namely, the one in the second week of you and Jake tutoring each other. The boys had decided to go to the burger joint they like that night and were in the middle of a french fry fight when Sunghoon mentioned your and Jake’s new friendship.

“So, Jake… what’s up with you and Y/N?”

Jake halted in his motions, redirecting to his mouth the fry he was about to throw at Jay. “Nothing’s up with me and Y/N. What makes you say that?”

“Just, you know, you seem like you’ve become actual friends. Talking in the hallways and walking your dogs together and whatnot.”

“Y/N as in Y/N? Sunghoon’s Y/N?” Jay said, halfway through a bite of his cheeseburger.

“She’s not my Y/N-”

“Yes, Y/N as in Y/N, you idiot,” Jake cut in. “And like you said, we’re friends.”

“Is she the girl you posted some BeReals with?” Jay asked, and Jake nodded. “She’s pretty! No wonder Sunghoon likes her so much.”

Sunghoon sighed as he let his head hang low. “God forbid I find a girl cute, because I’ll mention it once, two years ago and you guys make me out to be in love with her.”

“Sunghoon, you act like girls don’t exist, so of course when you not only mention a girl, but describe her as cute, that means you’re in love with her!”

“But I’m not! We were literally having a whole conversation about girls, I happened to see Y/N and her friends from far away, I said she was cute, and now you guys won’t let me live it down. Jay, you weren’t even there!”

“Yeah, but the way Jake told me about the whole thing, it really sounded like you liked her.”

“Why would you trust Jake to relay something like this correctly?!”

Jay paused and tilted his head. “You have a point there.”

“Hey!”

“So you don’t, like… like her, or something?” Sunghoon asked, looking at his friend as he sipped on his Pepsi.

This made Jake stop. Did he like you? Wasn’t the fact that he was considering it sign enough? Surely, if there was nothing there, he would have answered no right away.

But there was no use thinking about it. You liked Sunghoon. And as much as he liked to deny it, Jake knew Sunghoon liked you, too. After two years, there was finally an opportunity for the two of you to get closer - Jake wasn’t about to get in the middle of that. If anything, he should help his friends out. Then, when you and Sunghoon eventually got married, Jake would have the honor of saying it was all thanks to him in his best man’s speech. 

“No, I don’t. Don’t worry, Hoon, I’m not gonna steal your girl away from you.”

“Again, she’s not my girl-”

“Whatever you say. I’ll introduce you guys.”

Even if Sunghoon didn’t think he liked you yet, Jake knew it was just a matter of time - his friend just needed to spend a few hours with you to realize he did. You were pretty, smart, funny, nice, had the sweetest laugh he’d ever heard, got along with dogs, and even though you sometimes had weird opinions, it was always fun, talking to you. It was easy and comfortable. Anyone with taste would fall for you.

Anyone, except for Jake, of course.

—

For the past three weeks, you and Jake had gotten along perfectly, but today, on this bright Tuesday afternoon, you really wanted to strangle him. 

When he’d invited you to come and watch him at soccer practice, you’d been surprised, but happy - usually, you invited people to watch an actual game, not just practice. But you were just glad for the opportunity to spend more time with him. 

Without realizing it, you were giddy with excitement the whole day, counting down the minutes until classes were over and Jake’s practice started. Jake had told you to just head to the bleachers while the players got ready in the locker room, but when you reached said bleachers, someone was already sitting there, looking at something on their phone. You recognized him immediately as Sunghoon. He didn’t notice you right away, so you had time to wipe the surprise off of your face - you hadn’t thought anyone came to watch practice, but Sunghoon was probably here for Jake, just like you. 

“Hey,” you said quietly as you sat down next to him. Even though you were technically still on school property, this was the first time you saw Sunghoon outside of somewhere like a classroom, a hallway or the cafeteria. You weren’t as nervous as you thought you’d be, seeing him unexpectedly like this. 

You chuckled when Sunghoon started at your sudden arrival. “Oh, hey, Y/N,” he said, chuckling too, albeit somewhat awkwardly. “Sorry, didn’t hear you coming.”

“It’s fine,” you said with a smile as you sat down next to him on the bleachers. You didn’t know what sort of distance was appropriate between you two, if you should sit close or far, but you stopped yourself before you could overthink something as trivial as that. Neither of you said anything for a few seconds and you wished practice had started before you got here, so that you’d have something to look at other than an empty field.

You broke the silence before it became too uncomfortable. “So, do you come watch Jake often?”

You’d been fiddling with your hands as you spoke, only turning your head to look at Sunghoon as you awaited his answer. Your eyes didn’t even meet for a fraction of a second before he whipped his head to look at the field, as if unable to look at you and talk at the same time. At least he had a nice side profile for you to look at.

“Um, just on Tuesdays. I have ice skating practice after this, so I come here first, then he comes with me to the rink,” he replied. He glanced at you, lips pressed into a thin line that somewhat resembled a smile and that pushed dimples into his cheeks. You simply hummed in response. 

“What about you, how come you’re here?”

“Jake asked me,” you replied. Sunghoon let out a long “oh” as he nodded, turning his head back towards the field again. You didn’t think you’d ever had such a slow conversation. It was like you and Sunghoon both repeated your words ten times over in your heads before saying them out loud.

“Are you coming to my practice, too?” he asked after another pause.

The question took you aback slightly as you hadn’t even considered it, but it could be fun, seeing Sunghoon practice ice skating. It’d also be fun to hang out with Jake. “If it’s fine with you, then yeah, why not,” you replied, smiling at Sunghoon. He glanced at you again before looking away with a smile, an actual one this time that showed his teeth and made his eyes crinkle.

“Yeah, sure. People usually only come to actual shows, so I like it when someone’s there to watch practice.” Before you could find something to say, the players arrived jogging onto the field, immediately starting their warm-up laps. Some were serious about it and stayed focused as they ran, while others goofed around, running backwards and slapping other players on their butts before sprinting away. Jake, of course, was part of the latter group.

Now that something was actually happening on the field, you and Sunghoon had an excuse not to make conversation anymore. You tried to ignore it, but it was so awkward you wanted to die. You realized now why you were so attracted to people like Jake and Chaewon - without even being aware of it, they brought you out of your shell and made you feel at ease. You wished you could do that on your own, but you were always too scared, so you needed that person who was confident enough showing themselves to you first to make you feel comfortable doing the same. You and Sunghoon, unfortunately, were too similar in that sense to do that for each other. So you just sat there in silence, observing Jake and waving back at him when he caught your gazes.

The ninety minutes of practice didn’t go by in total silence - you asked Sunghoon about some soccer rules you didn’t get, and he shared some anecdotes from his and Jake’s earlier teenage years, including a very entertaining story about a tantrum 9-year-old Jake had thrown when he hadn’t agreed with the red card the referee had given him. You weren’t sure how the topic came up, but at some point, you even shared pictures of your pets. Sunghoon had one of those small crusty white dogs, but you kept your laughter in and cooed over how cute she was. 

But still, most of the time, you were watching Jake. You had never been interested in soccer or any sort of sport that involved balls until now. Somehow, he managed to make flushed cheeks, a heaving chest and hairline beaded with sweat look glorious. In total honesty, you were paying more attention to the player himself than to the sport, to the point that you barely noticed when he scored a goal during their practice match. It was only when Jake started cheering and high-fiving his teammates that you realized what had happened, and you gave him two thumbs up and a wide grin when he looked your and Sunghoon’s way, proudly shouting “Did you see that?!”

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks right there and then. The way your heart swelled as you watched his excited, puppyish grin take over his features was undeniable - you liked Jake. You like liked him. Your gaze continued to follow him as he finished his celebratory lap. If you could’ve seen yourself right then, you’d probably have been embarrassed by your awestruck expression and slightly agape mouth, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Much to your dismay, you realized that Chaewon had seen right through you. You hadn’t wanted to read too much into your feelings, but they had become too obvious to ignore. You hadn’t experienced them yourself since middle school (Choi Soobin had really been a heartbreaker back then), but you’d heard about the telltale signs of a crush too many times not to know about them. It was now clear that the way you felt about Jake and the way you had felt about Sunghoon were worlds apart. Feeling nervous around him and your heart skipping a beat when you made eye contact; wanting to see him smile; laughing at all his jokes, even the bad ones; missing him even though it’d been seconds since you said goodbye, and counting down the days until you saw him again. And, yes, looking at his pictures on social media over and over again. You did all those things, so you knew there was no point in lying to yourself anymore - you liked Jake Sim. 

It didn’t help that he was always kind to you, never making you feel stupid for not understanding something in your tutoring sessions and being patient enough to explain the same thing over and over again. He always paid attention to small things, which never failed to make your heart race, like asking after your aging cat’s condition after you’d told him he had a health check-up over the weekend or stocking up on your favorite snack the week after you’d told him about it. He’d also immediately picked up on your habit of teasing the people you felt comfortable with and you loved how he returned it tenfold. It was as much fun debating with him over nothing and making him shut up with your senseless arguments as it was being rendered speechless when he came up with the perfect retort. 

And of course, there was no denying that Jake was ridiculously attractive. There were times you got so caught up in the way his lips moved as he spoke or the way his fingers looked as he pointed at numbers on the page that your mind completely blanked out and you stopped listening to his words for a few seconds. You didn’t know what to make of his small chuckle and smirk when he noticed your gaze fixated on him, but you knew it wasn’t good for your heart. And let’s not even get started on the fact that sitting so close to him meant you could smell the lingering scent of his cologne every single time.

Even now, with flushed cheeks and hair slicked back with sweat, you want to run onto the field and give him a big smooch on his cheek, telling him you were proud of him for scoring that goal.

But even though you were getting closer and he had offered for you to come watch his practice, you squashed down as best as you could any hope that he might feel the same way about you. Even if he insisted he was bad with girls, Jake was popular at school, and you were sure there were many other girls who had a crush on him - so why would he like you of all people?

Sunghoon’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Every time he scores, he acts like it’s the first time he’s ever done it,” he said, chuckling and shaking his head at his friend’s over-dramatic antics. The coach was trying to get Jake to calm down so that the game could resume.

“He’s so cute,” you said, voice quiet, before you could stop yourself. But as soon as the words were out, you realized what you’d done, and your eyes doubled in size as you turned to look at Sunghoon. He had whipped his head to look at you, too, and his eyes were just as big as yours. Then, he burst into laughter, and you hoped the Earth would suddenly open beneath your feet and swallow you whole. 

When his surprise had subsided, Sunghoon turned to you again, an incredulous but amused glint in his eyes. “Did you just call Jake cute?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, slightly frowning as you avoided Sunghoon’s gaze. “I just meant, you know, it’s cute how excited he got. I didn’t say he was cute,” you mumbled, knowing you were doing a poor job of defending yourself.

“That’s exactly what you said, though. You said, and I quote, He’s so cute.” You glared at Sunghoon. Who knew he would only become talkative once it came to teasing you about Jake? 

His expression softened slightly when he realized you might actually be upset about this, and he turned his attention back towards the field, smile growing when he found his friend. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.”

“There’s nothing to be said anyway.”

“Oh? So you don’t mind if I tell Jake that you have the biggest, fattest crush on- hmph!”

You’d cut Sunghoon off by pressing your palm to his mouth, mustering the most menacing look you could to scare him off. “I do not,” you said firmly as you moved your hand away from him.

“Sure, you don’t,” he replied, chuckling. Clearly, your most menacing look wasn’t so menacing.

“I get why Jake’s so annoying now, it’s because he’s friends with you.”

Sunghoon raised an amused eyebrow at this. “He might be annoying, but he’s also cute, right?”

“Shut up!” you shrieked immediately, but you couldn’t stop the grin forcing its way onto your lips.

“Just saying,” Sunghoon said, and you laughed together. Maybe you should’ve been more worried about Jake’s literal best friend finding out you had a crush on him, but you somehow trusted Sunghoon not to blabber about it. Whether because he was nice or because he wanted to watch you struggle with your feelings, you weren’t sure, but at least you felt your secret was safe with him.

You looked back at the field, and just as your eyes found Jake, you saw him turn his head away. Had you seen him just seconds prior, you might have noticed the crease in his eyebrows as he watched you and Sunghoon laugh together. Sunghoon isn’t that funny, he thought, what could you be laughing so hard about?

He didn’t understand the sudden weight in his heart at the sight of you and his friend getting along so well. This was his whole plan after all - force some proximity between you and Sunghoon so that you could talk and hopefully make your feelings clear to each other after some time. Clearly, it was working. So why was it bothering him so much? 

He had to turn his attention back to the game, so he could only ruminate over it for five seconds, but for the remaining thirty minutes, he could barely focus on anything. Whenever he glanced back at you and Sunghoon, you were both looking at him and not talking to each other, and that somehow bothered him even more. 

He used his time in the lockers to get out of the weird mood he was in - whatever was going on between you and Sunghoon, he didn’t want to ruin it by being grumpy. So when he came back out and found the two of you waiting for him at the bus stop, he put on his best smile. 

Having you around made his usual Tuesday afternoon with Sunghoon more fun - after years of friendship, Sunghoon ignored most of his jokes and could tune the sound of his voice out, but you still laughed at everything he said, and his heart swelled with pride every time he made you laugh.

It was only a ten-minute bus ride from the school to the ice rink so you still had twenty minutes to spare before Sunghoon’s lesson started. As always after soccer practice, Jake was famished, so you stopped by a convenience store and got more snacks than you really needed.

You sat next to Sunghoon and across from Jake at a picnic table in front of the ice rink, watching the boy in front of you with fascination as he gorged himself on banana milk and chocolate snacks.

“God, how long has it been since you last ate?” you asked with genuine concern in your voice. Sunghoon followed your gaze towards Jake, only then noticing his friend’s feral behavior as if this was a normal occurrence for them.

“Like three hours,” Jake answered. “I’m starving. So hungry I could eat Sunghoon.”

When he looked up, you were both peering at him with furrowed eyebrows and bewildered expressions on your faces. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you mean that Sunghoon is a horse?” you asked.

Jake mirrored your confused expressions. “What? No, why would I say that?”

“The saying goes, so hungry I could eat a horse, dumbass,” Sunghoon chimed in.

“Why would I eat a horse?” Jake replied, shaking his head and chuckling at you and Sunghoon like you were the ones who had gotten a basic idiom wrong.

“Why would you eat me?” Sunghoon bit back, sounding almost offended.

“It’s just a saying, dude.”

Half-an-hour and two whole packets of biscuits later, you and Jake sat side-by-side on the benches, watching Sunghoon as he did his warm-ups on the ice. This was your first time seeing a professional ice skater and you were transfixed, to say the least. He was just skating across the rink and rolling his arms and neck to get the muscles moving, but it all seemed so effortless and elegant that you couldn’t help but watch with your mouth slightly open, eyes eager to keep up with Sunghoon’s figure.

You were so mesmerized that you had no idea Jake was practically burning holes into the side of your face. Eyes narrowed and nose scrunched in disgust, he couldn’t believe you were enjoying the show in front of you that much. “He’s not even doing anything special right now, you know,” he said, but it only made him realize that when Sunghoon did start doing cool stuff, you’d like it even more.

Your head barely budged in Jake’s direction as you answered him, and your eyes certainly didn’t leave Sunghoon. “Really? It already looks so cool, though.” Jake scoffed, but that still didn’t get your attention, which made him scoff again. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned like a child whose parent wasn’t paying attention to their drawing. 

“Cooler than me?”

Finally, you look at me, Jake thought, and his frown immediately dissipated into a grin when your eyes met. But judging by the teasing way your lips curled up, he already knew he wasn’t going to like your answer.

“Cooler than you,” you replied before turning your attention back to the rink.

Jake leans back with a pout, opting to glare at his friend instead of you. He tried to put himself in your shoes and figure out what it was about Sunghoon you liked so much that Jake didn’t also have. Devastatingly good looks? Check. Charming smile? Check. Cute dog? Check - Jake more so than Sunghoon. Brains? Okay, both of them lacked this. Good personality? Check - however, you needed months before Sunghoon revealed himself to you, whereas Jake was outgoing and was comfortable even with people he’d just met. 

So why was the bearer of your affection Sunghoon and not Jake?

And why did Jake even care that you liked his friend over him in the first place?

It wasn’t like Jake liked you - he couldn’t like a girl that his best friend liked - so why did this at all matter to him? If anything, the fact that you liked Sunghoon back should’ve been something to rejoice over. It had been, up until now, and Jake couldn’t figure out why. He couldn’t figure out this weird sensation that had plagued him in the soccer field and followed him to the ice rink as he watched you watch Sunghoon with amazement.

Jake was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice when you detached your eyes from Sunghoon, who was talking to his coach, and tilted your head at him. “Jake?” 

The boy only let out a low hum, still too upset to look at you.

An amused grin made your lips quirk up. “Are you pouting because I said Sunghoon was cooler than you?”

Jake scoffed, turning his head away from you. “No.”

A pause. “So you don’t mind if I go on and on about how elegant and beautiful ice skating is, while running after a ball and kicking it is the basis of the stupidest sport in the world?”

Jake glared at you, but it only made you smile more. “It’s not stupid.”

Despite himself, his pretend angry facade broke apart at the sound of your airy giggles. Jake didn’t think his ears had ever been graced with such a pretty sound before - he slapped himself mentally as soon as that thought crossed his mind. 

His heart did jumps and spins more impressive than Sunghoon’s when you reached a hand out to ruffle his hair, shaking your head at his behavior. For once, he was glad that you turned back to Sunghoon so that you wouldn’t see the bright blush spreading all over his face.

For the next hour, Jake put his weird feelings to the side and watched his friend practice his routine for his upcoming competition. Even he had to admit that Sunghoon looked pretty cool doing what he loved.

You told him you found it all the more impressive because you’d never skated before, so it looked unachievable to you, and an idea immediately formed in Jake’s mind. As soon as Sunghoon’s practice was over, he rushed over to his friend and asked if the two of you could join him on the ice. Sunghoon turned to his coach, who simply shrugged.

“I trust you to look after them,” she said. “Just make sure to be out when the hockey team gets here.”

Before you knew it, Jake was helping you tie up your ice skates (the sight of which made you faint-hearted) and both boys helped you onto the ice rink, each holding onto one of your hands as you tried not to freak out at the feeling of your knees being so wobbly. Sunghoon demonstrated how to move around the ice, and soon enough, you’d gotten the hang of it - but you still made sure to keep Jake at an arm’s length so you could grab onto him every time you lost your balance. Jake stayed by your side, smiling fondly at how excited you looked and cheering you on every time you took a step of your own. Sunghoon, on the other hand, seemed to find it funny to watch from afar and point and laugh every time you stumbled.

After some time, Sunghoon announced he was feeling hungry and decided to go eat some snacks, leaving you and Jake alone in the rink. The wink Sunghoon threw your way when Jake wasn’t looking let you know what his true intentions were, and you couldn’t believe Jake’s best friend had just become your wingman.

“Feeling ready to skate around the rink?” Jake asked. His boyish grin was contagious, and you found yourself matching it even though you were still nervous about moving around too much.

“If you help me,” you answered tentatively, looking at him worriedly as you held out your hand for him to take. The softness of his gaze as he smiled down at you made you want to melt into a puddle on the floor.

“Of course,” he said, taking your hand in his warm one. Your fingers intertwined as if out of second nature and you thought you finally understood why people said their hands were meant to hold someone else’s.

Being friends with an ice skater for such a long time meant Jake had acquired some skill, too, which is why he could so easily show you how to turn or pick up speed. Whenever you lost your balance, he was always quick enough to make sure you didn’t actually fall, picking you up before your backside could touch the ice. He found your frightened expression every time you thought you would fall absolutely adorable, but your pout and slight frown whenever he teased you were somehow even cuter.

He only let go of your hand after some ten minutes (neither of you had even begun to question Sunghoon’s whereabouts by then) when he came to stand in front of you, a serious expression on his face.

“I think you’re ready, Y/N,” he declared solemnly.

“Ready for…?” you asked, scared of whatever he had in mind.

He leaned in slightly and the sudden proximity took you aback, but he didn’t seem to realize. A mischievous smirk broke through his handsome features. “A race,” he whispered, then skated to one edge of the rink and motioned for you to follow him. Reluctantly, you did.

“First to the other edge has to…” he thought for a second, gazing at the ceiling. You wanted to be mad at him for proposing a race when you’d literally just learned how to skate, but how could you when he looked so cute and giddy, searching for the loser’s penalty? “Buy the other ice cream!”

Your eyes were probably the image of tenderness as you looked at him. “Deal,” you said, wanting to sound as playful as him but voice coming out soft. Since when had you fallen so hard for him?

You held each other’s gazes for a couple more seconds before both turning in front of you, getting ready for your race. Jake counted down from three, and your skating wasn’t so bad at first - until you got too cocky for your own good, trying to go at a pace you clearly couldn’t handle. Before you knew it, your knees betrayed you and you found yourself tripping over, your butt making a loud thump sound as it came into contact with the ice.

On your way down, you’d shrieked Jake’s name, and he was at your side in the blink of an eye, holding your shoulder and looking at you worriedly. The pain was immediate, and for a few seconds, you couldn’t answer him and reassure him that you were fine.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked to race, God Y/N I’m so stupid I’m so sorry are you okay I didn’t want you to get hurt-”

“Jake,” you squeaked.

“Yeah?”

“I’m okay, calm down,” you said when the pain subsided, managing a smile. “I’ll just have a sore butt tomorrow.” He chuckled at the word ‘butt,’ but you didn’t have it in you to roll his eyes at his childishness.

“Are you sure you’re okay? There’s an infirmary here-”

“I’m sure, Jakey-poo,” you teased, making him lose the concerned expression as he bore an unimpressed one instead.

“I guess you are fine if you can think to call me that. Come on, up!” he said as he stood up, reaching his hands out for you to take. Just as he helped you up, Sunghoon came sprinting and stood at the entrance to the rink.

“Is everything okay? I heard a yell,” he said, slightly out-of-breath with half a biscuit in his mouth. Guess he really was eating this whole time.

You and Jake laughed and shook your head at him, and you reassured him that everything was fine. 

“Good, ‘cause the hockey team’s here and we have to go anyway.”

There was a bus that took Sunghoon directly from the ice rink to his house, but you and Jake had to go back to the school to catch the one you usually took, which meant you had a forty-minute journey in front of you. And yet, Jake’s company made those forty minutes feel like five, and you found yourself disappointed when the bus neared your stop.

“If you want, we can still go walk Kiwi and Layla,” he offered shyly a few minutes before your stop, as if he’d read your mind. 

“I’d love to.” You watched as his small smile bloomed into a wider one.

“I’m glad,” he chuckled, relieved. “I was scared you’d be tired of me after spending the whole afternoon together,” he admitted, looking down at his lap with a bashful expression on his face. It wasn’t often that Jake looked timid like this, but whenever he did, your heart tripled in size.

“I don’t think I could get tired of you.” You were too shy to look him in the eye while you said this, but in your peripheral, you saw his grin get impossibly wider and his eyebrows raise. He bumped your shoulder with his, making the both of you burst into giggles.

You were still smiling long after you’d come home from your walk.

—

Unfortunately for Jake, forcing you and Sunghoon to sit together for ninety minutes hadn’t resulted in the two of you confessing your undying love for the other and getting together - clearly, his plan hadn’t worked very well. But Jake, instead of coming up with another strategy, decided he should just basically do the same thing again and hope it went better this time. 

Bro night had been a tradition for the past three years that the boys only very rarely broke, in cases of illness, filial obligations or important competitions the following day. This wasn’t any one of those cases, but Jake decided bro night must be slightly sacrificed that night - for your and Sunghoon’s sake. Years down the line, he knew you’d thank him.

This was why he tricked you into thinking you had been invited to bro night (you’d heard a lot about it and considered it an honor to be included) when really, he made Jay promise not to show at the cinema so that you and Sunghoon could be alone. The two of them would make up an excuse about not being able to make it on time and show up later at the diner (“If you want to set them up, shouldn’t we also leave them alone after the movie?” Jay had asked Jake over the phone, and Jake had been unable to explain why he didn’t want you to spend the whole night alone with Sunghoon).

“They ditched us,” Sunghoon had said in lieu of a greeting when you found him at the entrance of the cinema. He turned his phone screen towards you, showing you their group chat - Jay had had some sort of meeting at his school that had run late and Jake had to go to the vet suddenly because Layla kept making weird noises.

“Oh no, I hope she’ll be okay,” you said, voice laced with genuine worry.

Sunghoon just sighed. “I’m sure she will.” He knew what his friends were up to - it almost never happened that one of them was unable to make it to bro night, so two at once? They were clearly lying. He would make sure to tell Jake how worried sick you were about his dog’s fake illness later on just so his friend would feel extra guilty.

You had been looking forward to hanging out with Jake and his friends all day, so you were disappointed to know he wouldn’t make it until later. It wasn’t much comfort that the movie they had picked, some recent Marvel release, was one you were not at all interested in, and you couldn’t even obsess over Jake’s presence next to you instead of the movie because he wasn’t there. You’d have to sit with awkward, quiet Sunghoon for God knows how long - at least the cinema wasn’t much of a talking place. 

You declined his kind offer of sharing a big popcorn tub - you didn’t want to risk a cliché reaching-for-popcorn-at-the-same-time moment with Sunghoon, although you’d daydreamed and giggled about it happening with Jake earlier that day. Instead, you sipped grumpily on your Cherry Coke, watching the trailers for upcoming movies and discussing them with Sunghoon. (“I’m so excited for the Barbie movie,” he’d surprised you by saying. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.)

As the lights dimmed, announcing the imminent start of the movie, Sunghoon whispered something that completely changed your mind about Marvel. “It’s so stupid that Jake isn’t here, seriously. He’s been going on and on about going to see this movie since the trailer came out.” Suddenly, you’d never felt the need to pay attention to something more than this. 

Well, in your humble opinion, the film wasn’t anything to write home about. It was a lot of loud action scenes with some funny one-liners that, okay, you chuckled at. And the actors were hot. You could sort of see why Jake would enjoy Marvel movies, although you yourself liked films with more social commentary, such as Mean Girls or Bee Movie. You’d need to make Jake watch Twilight one of these days - you were sure he’d like the soundtrack, if nothing else.

At least, you and Sunghoon have something to talk about during your short walk to the diner. As you enter the restaurant, a familiar voice calling out your name catches you off-guard.

“Chaewon? I thought you didn’t work on Friday nights!” you exclaimed, letting your friend bring you into a hug. You gave her a once-over - she always looked so pretty in her work uniform, white t-shirt dress draping her body perfectly, apron cinching at her waist, and short pigtails under her 50’s style diner hat. If the blush spreading on Sunghoon’s cheeks at her sudden appearance was anything to go by, his thoughts might not have been too far from yours.

She pouted, taking your hands in hers and swaying them between the two of you. “I usually don’t, but Yunjin asked me to trade shifts and she always says yes when I ask her, so I felt bad saying no.” You nodded and she turned to Sunghoon.

“Hi, Sunghoon!”

“H-hi, Chaewon.”

“Where’s Jay and Jake?” she asked, looking behind the two of you. You’d told the group chat about your evening plans and a lot of freaking out had taken place. 

“Should be here any minute,” you sighed, and when she looked at you questioningly, you told her you’d explain later.

She sat you at a four-person booth by the window and brought you drinks (“On the house,” she’d said with a wink, but you weren’t sure this had been allowed by any of her superiors) for you to sip on while you waited for the others. Every time she was free, she came over to your table and gossiped about the customers. You did not miss the way Sunghoon’s face lit up whenever she approached you.

Jake and Jay see you before you see them. Jay, the only one with a driver’s license out of the three, had picked Jake up, and he was parking his car when Jake gasped loudly, making Jay jump. “I’m trying to park, man, can you be calm?”

“What’s she doing here?” Jake exclaimed, completely ignoring his friend.

Jay followed Jake’s gaze, but he wasn’t sure what his friend was going on about. All he saw was you, whom he recognized from pictures only, Sunghoon, and a waitress that seemed overly-friendly. “Who?” he asked.

“Chaewon,” Jake hissed, like her name was a curse. “She’s ruining our plan!”

Jay sighed. “First of all, this is your plan. Second of all, it was ruined from the beginning. And by that, I mean that your plan sucks, Jake.”

Jake clicked his teeth. “Whatever. Let’s just go,” he said, getting out of the car and heading straight for you. He made sure to give Chaewon a pointed look as he sat next to you in the booth, but she just seemed happy that more people had arrived. 

You bumped your knee into his to get his attention. “Hi,” you said with a smile.

He looked at you dumbly for a few seconds before Jay cleared his throat awkwardly. “Hi. This is Jay,” he said, tilting his head towards the boy but not taking his eyes off of you. You and Jay exchanged hey’s before Chaewon took your order, quickly giving it to the kitchen and scanning the room to make sure every table had what they needed, then headed back to your table. 

“Is Layla okay?” you asked Jake, worry making your brows furrow.

“Huh?” The sudden mention of his dog took him aback. Why wouldn’t she be okay?

“Layla?” you repeated, tilting your head. “Is she okay? You said you had to go to the vet.”

His eyes widened as he remembered his lie from earlier, and he started nodding frantically. “Oh yeah, yeah, she’s fine, we panicked over nothing,” he said with a nervous giggle. Jake was the worst liar Jay and Sunghoon had ever seen, but you were none the wiser.

“What about you, Jay? How was your school thing?” Sunghoon asked, turning to his friend with a glare and making him choke on his Coke.

“Oh, that was fine too, I guess,” Jay mumbled.

As expected, Jake and Chaewon were experts at leading the conversation, and Jay himself was pretty talkative. They all bounced off of each other naturally, and even Sunghoon knew how to throw in witty remarks now and there. You also participated, but you were more than happy just listening to them and laughing along. You tried not to think too much about how your knee would bump into Jake’s once in a while, or how he seemed to look at you every time he made a joke.

At some point, Chaewon had rushed over to your table, looking right at you with wide eyes and beaming. “Oh my God Oh my God Oh my God, Y/N, hat guy is here!” 

You instantly mirrored her expression. “Where where where?” you asked, lifting your body up to scan around the restaurant.

“Over there in the corner, but be discreet!”

You were not at all discreet as your eyes found said hat guy, noting with satisfaction that he was characteristically hatless, and you burst into laughter. “I can’t believe he’s here!”

“Right? Probably has the munchies or something,” Chaewon said, laughing along.

You only noticed then the perplexed looks all three boys were sending your way. “Who the heck is hat guy?” Jake asked, which only made you and Chaewon laugh harder.

“You wouldn’t get it,” she replied airily, waving Jake off as she made her way to a customer who had called for her. 

The boys turned to you and you shrunk in your seat at their attention. “Just a guy the girls and I find funny,” you explained, shrugging and glancing quickly at Sunghoon. If only he knew about all the times you and the girls had gossiped about him, even though he’d done nothing of importance.

When her shift was over, the first thing Chaewon did was take off her apron, then dragged you to the bathroom, where she drilled you for details about your cinema “date” with Sunghoon. 

“It was not a date, it just ended up being the two of us because the others couldn’t make it,” you insisted, but she wasn’t having it. “There’s nothing to say anyway. We got there, talked a bit, watched the movie, walked here, and that’s it.”

Chaewon sighed, shaking her head as she reapplied her lip gloss. A small smile made its way onto your lips. “I think he’s into someone else anyway.” 

You noticed how her hand faltered for a split second. “Oh yeah? Who?” she asked, trying to appear nonchalant, but you knew your friend too well. 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” 

Unbeknownst to either of you, the discussion between the boys back at the table was not too different from yours.

“Bro, I’m literally going to kill you,” Sunghoon whisper-yelled even though you were way out of earshot already. “Do you know how awkward that was?”

“Just so you know, I had nothing to do with this,” Jay said. “I told him that putting two socially constipated idiots like you wouldn’t end well, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Y/N’s not an idiot!” Jake immediately reacted.

“And I am?!” Sunghoon retorted.

Jay just rolled his eyes.

“You are, because this is the second time you’re alone together with the girl you like and you can barely make conversation with her.”

“For the last time, I don’t like her, I just called her cute once in freshman year-”

“Same thing!”

“Jake, I don’t know how many times I can tell you the same thing before you get it. I’ve been around Y/N enough to know I don’t like her like that, okay? We’ve had two classes where we sat together for a whole semester, and we’ve worked with other people in group projects. Not to mention, you’ve made me sit through one of your practices with her. She’s nice. She sends me the homework when I miss class. She even laughs at my jokes sometimes. And her dog is super cute. I’m sure we’d be better friends if we both didn’t have crippling shyness, but I don’t like her like that. I just don’t.”

“But how?!”

“What do you mean how? This sorta thing doesn’t have any sort of reasonable answer, you just do or you don’t. I don’t. Clearly, you do.”

Jake heard the last part of Sunghoon’s words, and promptly decided to ignore them. He had to understand this first - he’d figure out his feelings later. “This whole time, I thought you were just downplaying your feelings, ‘cause you’re an awkward asshole who doesn’t do emotions,” he said, eyes tightly shut and holding his head, the confusion making his brain hurt.

“Okay, ouch. But no, I wasn’t. I really don’t know what got into your head.”

“I know what got into his head,” Jay said. Both of his friends looked at him questioningly, so he went on. “When Sunghoon mentioned Y/N, you probably thought she was super cute too, Jake. But because of bro code and whatnot, you didn’t wanna show any interest. And then as you saw her around more, you probably liked her more, but you thought Sunghoon liked her, so you sort of gave him your crush on her instead of dealing with it. You lived vicariously through him, basically. Except you’re an idiot because he doesn’t even like her like that, so you could’ve shot your shot a long time ago already. I don’t know why you didn’t just listen to him, to be honest,” Jay finished, shrugging.

“You also thought he liked her!” Jake retorted.

“That’s besides the point. The point is that you’re stupid.”

“But- but, what about all those times you talked about her? I didn’t make those up!” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “The most I ever said about her was something like, Y/N and I both forgot our textbook today, or Y/N brought cookies for the class because it’s her birthday. You were always the one to notice her everywhere and go, There’s your crush, or something.”

Jake sighed, defeated. He could admit Sunghoon was right about something, and he was wrong - but he hated that Jay was also right. Had he really managed to bury his feelings for you all these years just for what he thought was Sunghoon’s sake? Sure, he was a loyal friend, but that felt a little much.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, recoiling from his friends’ expectant gazes and taking a sad bite of his cheeseburger. “It’s not like she likes me back, or anything.” 

He watched in confusion as Sunghoon let out a loud groan, screwing his eyes shut and taking his head in his hands as if it hurt. “This is so frustrating, I’m going to kill myself.”

Jake turned to Jay for some sort of explanation to their friend’s sudden suicidal thoughts, but Jay just looked back at Jake with disgust. “When did you become so dumb? I swear you didn’t use to be like this,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment.

Jake’s eyes flickered between his two friends in utter dismay. “What?”

“Jake,” Jay started. “Do you really, honestly, genuinely think Y/N doesn’t like you?”

The boy leaned back in his seat with a pout. “Yeah,” he mumbled.

Sunghoon’s head whipped up at this. Jake gulped at the intense glare his friend fixed him with - he’d never looked so angry with him, and it made Jake wonder what on Earth he could have said or done that made Sunghoon so upset. “Why?” he asked simply, but the frustration was evident in his voice.

Your diary popped up in Jake’s head. What he had read was clear. Of course, the entry dated from over a month ago now, but why would your feelings have changed since then? Jake sighs deeply, getting ready to reveal to his friends what he’d seen, but then he sees you and Chaewon emerging from the bathroom. “They’re coming back,” he mumbled.

It was Sunghoon and Jay’s turn to sigh. “Just pay attention to her, Jake, okay?” Jay instructed, giving his friend an intent look.

“I already do,” Jake replied, frowning.

“No, really pay attention to her. Then use your pea-sized brain for once in your life, and maybe you’ll realize something.”

A strongly-worded reply was on the tip of Jake’s tongue, but all thoughts of violence and murdering his friend were replaced by images of rainbows and pretty flowers when you smiled at him. He felt like the biggest of idiots for liking you so much and only realizing it now.

“Hi,” he said dumbly as you found your seat next to him again, then stole a french fry from you even though he had many left himself. When you gasped at his audacity, he just giggled.

“Hey!” you exclaimed in protest before stealing a fry back. 

If you hadn’t been so caught up in your little world, you’d have noticed the knowing look your three friends exchanged and their simultaneous eye roll. 

—

The following Monday, you decided to have your tutoring session at your house instead of Jake’s. His mom was away at a convention for the week, so you’d have to take the bus anyway - since your house was two stops earlier, you offered to switch it up for once. Jake had never actually been inside your house and was curious to see what it was like, so he eagerly agreed. 

Kiwi was happy to see him and followed the two of you around the house as you gave Jake a quick tour before going up to your room. When you reached the top landing, you realized that Kiwi was still at the bottom of the stairs and was looking up at you expectantly. “Is she not allowed upstairs?” Jake asked.

“Usually not, but I let her come up when my mom’s not here. Come on Kiwi! It’s okay!”

Kiwi didn’t need to be told twice - she trudged her little body up the stairs, and you couldn’t help but giggle at her adorableness. “She’s so cute,” you cooed, looking at your dog with a huge smile on your face.

“She really is,” Jake agreed, but when you turned your head to face him, he wasn’t looking at Kiwi - he was looking straight at you, a softness in his eyes that made your stomach turn. He snapped out of it when he noticed your round, surprised eyes, and cleared his throat. “So, where’s your room?” he asked, looking around the hallway and avoiding your gaze.

“Over there,” you replied, fighting the smile that tried to make its way to your lips as you headed towards your room, Jake and Kiwi following right behind. 

You told Jake to wait for a second as you went to get a second chair. When you came back, he was standing in front of your shelves, upper body slightly bent forwards to observe all the decorations and framed pictures closer. You placed the chair next to your desk then joined him, answering all the questions he had about the items on your shelves. Who’s this? When was this? Where did you get this? In his defense, you really did have a lot of things - you were trying to get rid of your hoarding habits, but you got attached to every small thing that held some sort of significance. You went to sit at the edge of your bed and just watched him, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

It reminded you of the first time you’d been to his house, how upset he’d seemed when you talked about his baby pictures and how you hadn’t wanted to risk looking at all the stuff in his room. You were also curious about things like that, and you wondered once again what had bothered him so much. The question was burning your tongue - although you were nervous to ask it, not wanting to upset Jake once more, you now knew him well enough to know he wasn’t the type to stay mad for long. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Jake replied, fingers toying with your favorite Littlest Pet Shop figurine you had kept from when you were eight.

“Why didn’t you want me to look at your baby photos that one time?”

Jake paused at your words. He stood up straight and set the figurine back on the shelf. He glanced at you before walking over to your bed and taking a seat next to you, leaning back on his palms while you rested your hands underneath your thighs. 

“You probably noticed I don’t mention my dad, right? Or the fact that he’s never home?” 

You nodded in response. You had noticed it, but you’d never brought the topic up in case it might be sensitive. Jake sighed. “He passed away when I was six.”

You turned your head towards him. To your surprise, his face remained expressionless - you couldn’t detect any sort of sadness or anger in his features, as if he was just reciting a fact. His uncharacteristic numbness upset you even more than any tears could have. 

He met your gaze and gave you a small smile. “I was so young that I only have very vague memories of him, like playing soccer together in the backyard or a trip to the beach with my parents and my brother. I only remember his face and his voice from the photos and videos my mom has shown me.” He sighed again, shifting forwards and resting his hands in his lap, fiddling with his fingers. “So when I see these pictures, they sort of just remind me of what I’ve lost? I really don’t like lingering on them. I sort of just ignore them every time I walk up or down the stairs.”

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have mentioned them if I’d known-”

Jake is quick to shake his head. “No, no, don’t be sorry. You couldn’t have guessed.” You want to comfort Jake in some way, thank him for telling you something so personal, but you’re not sure what words to use - so, instead, you take one of his hands in yours and bring it to your lap, then cover it with your other one. Your eyes meet for a second - he looks slightly taken aback at first, but then, his eyes drift down to your joined hands, and a small blush spreads on his cheeks.

“I’m- I’m okay, really. Like I said, it happened so long ago that I’m used to not having a dad now. It almost feels like it’s always been that way, which makes it even weirder to think it wasn’t. It’s just… It feels weird to miss someone I barely remember so much, you know?”

You nodded and let out a low hum. “I do know.” Jake tilted his head at you, silently asking you to go on. “It’s different, but I get that feeling of missing something you barely remember. I have these blurry memories of my parents being happy together and the three of us being a happy family, and then all of a sudden it’s hearing arguments from my room and my dad moving out, and they’re asking me, Do you wanna live with mom or dad?”

You watched as Jake moved his hand slightly, intertwining your fingers together and squeezing your hand. “I was older than you were when they divorced, so I guess I have more memories to hold onto, but they hurt more than anything.” You let out a deep sigh. “My dad cheated, so it’s not like I wished my mom had stayed with him, but I was too young to understand what was happening. I just wanted my parents together again.” 

When you lifted your head to look at him, he met your gaze, and his eyes were so soft yet so intense, like he was seeing right into you. Then he chuckled. “Do you ever get jealous of other people’s parents?” he asks, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“All the time,” you admitted with a chuckle, relieved to find out you weren’t the only one. “Yena has been blessed with these like, practically perfect parents that are still in love after twenty years, never argue and have a healthy relationship with all of their kids. I’m so in awe every time I see them.”

“Sunghoon’s parents are like that. I feel terrible, but every time they come to cheer him on at his competitions, I just get so jealous, wishing I also had three people coming to see my games and not just two. And I always feel so silly for feeling that way.”

“You’re not silly for that, Jake,” you said, and the honesty in your voice seemed to take him aback slightly. A grin spread on your lips. “You may be silly for other things, but not for that,” you teased, making him chuckle. “I can be your third person, if you want,” you said softly, lightly bumping your shoulder against his.

His eyes seemed to light up at your words, and your smile couldn’t help but get wider at his reaction - that was, until he raised an eyebrow, almost defiantly. “Yeah? I thought you found soccer boring,” he said with a playful smirk.

“It’s not boring if you’re the one playing,” you replied. A small noise of surprise escaped his throat before he could help it, not expecting you to be so forward, and you both burst into giggles. 

He cleared his throat when you both calmed down and stood up straighter, trying to put on a cool front. “Of course it isn’t.” He turned his head to look out the window, and the sight of the sunlight perfectly hitting his features and turning his dark brown eyes a hazel color almost took your breath away. “It’s really nice out,” he suddenly said. He turned back to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How about we ditch the tutoring for today and go out?”

His eyes drifted down to your lips, watching as a smile tugged at the corners of your own. “I’m in.”

That was how you found yourselves sitting at a bench in the park close to your house, eating ice cream and watching Kiwi and Layla play together. You tried each other’s ice cream, and you regretted your choice of simple vanilla and strawberry as soon as Jake’s mango ice cream touched your tongue. Your eyes widened at the amazing taste - it felt like you had bit into an actual mango. 

“Good, right?” Jake asked, chuckling at your reaction.

“What the heck, yours is so much better than mine,” you mumbled, pouting at the ice cream in your cup like it had personally hurt you.

Jake thought for a second, looking back and forth between your upset expression and his own cup. “Wanna switch?”

Your heart was screaming yes, but your brain was screaming no. You tried your best to appear genuine when you smiled at him. “No, don’t worry about it. I still like mine.” You looked at him as you scooped another spoonful into your mouth as if to prove to him you were happy with your choice, even going so far as to hum in delight.

Jake just chuckled and shook his head at you, taking your cup and giving you his anyway. You were about to protest until he started eating your ice cream, imitating your previous hum. You quietly accepted the exchange, smiling as you tasted the mango ice cream again and trying to ignore the fact that Jake hadn’t switched the spoons with the cups, so you were using his and he was using yours. 

As you ate in silence, occasionally chuckling at your dogs’ antics, Jake stole some glances at you. He wasn’t sure why you looked so much prettier today than all the times he’d seen you before. Or maybe you were just as pretty as you’d always been, and he was just finally letting himself admit it. 

He may have had many friends, but there weren’t many people Jake was truly himself around. He always felt the need to be this friendly, outgoing guy that made it seem like everything was going well in his life, but with you, he felt like it was okay to stop pretending. He felt like it was okay to ask for help, like it was okay to reveal the darker parts of his life.

Now that Jay and Sunghoon had practically forced him to see the truth, Jake didn’t know what to do about his feelings for you. He finally understood why he always looked forward to your tutoring sessions, why he was so excited whenever he walked past you in the hallways, and why he was so bothered about you and Sunghoon getting along.

Sunghoon. Because even if Jake now knew that he liked you, he also knew that you liked someone else. And what was the point of letting himself fall for you even more when there was no happy ending in sight for him? He’d only get hurt in the end.

Just as the thought hit him, you turned to look at him and meet his gaze, a soft smile on your lips. Every time you smiled at him like that, Jake felt like he was watching a movie. Everything happened in slow-motion, with flowers falling around you and violins playing in the background. Jake almost felt sick, knowing he was only the second lead in your romance movie. He was the stupid werewolf and Sunghoon was the vampire that glistened in the sun and got the girl. (You had convinced him to watch Twilight, saying it was a mandatory watch to understand who you were as a person. Of course, Jake had streamed it that same night. The soundtrack was surprisingly good.)

Your voice snapped him out of his downward-spiraling thoughts. “You know, I almost got scared that Sunghoon would appear out of thin air and start hanging out with us.”

Jake tried not to sneer at the mention of his best-friend-turned-number-one-nemesis. “Why? Wouldn’t you like that?” he mumbled, clearly doing a poor job of seeming unaffected.

You frowned, then lowered your head, focusing your gaze on your almost-finished ice cream. “No, I’d rather if it was just the two of us.” Jake’s eyes widened, unsure if he’d heard that correctly or not. But before he could say anything in response, you spoke again. “It’s just, he was there when I came to watch your practice and when I thought we were all going to see a movie together, it was just him and me. You would’ve liked that movie, by the way,” you said, looking up at Jake with a smile.

Jake’s heart swelled. He wasn’t sure what what you were saying all meant, but unconsciously, his lips mirrored yours and he smiled back at you. Until he remembered you didn’t like him, and his smile fell immediately. Obviously, you had no idea what he was thinking, so his sudden stony expression sent alarms ringing through your head.

“It’s not that I don’t like him, or anything,” you said, panicked, and Jake had to keep himself from scoffing, “it’s just that- you know. It’s nice to hang out with you outside of tutoring sessions,” you finished, mumbling. 

Jake had no idea what you were saying, so he stayed quiet, watching as Kiwi and Layla ran around in circles. You liked Sunghoon, so why would you rather hang out with Jake and not him? You weren’t making any sense. 

You, on the other hand, were not liking Jake’s uncharacteristic silence. In hopes of getting his attention, you crossed one leg over the other, shifting on the bench to face him. “Plus, don’t you think he and Chaewon really hit it off the other night? I think that was the most I’ve ever heard him talk,” you said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. To your dismay, it didn’t work. You didn’t know whether he was sulking or genuinely upset - all you knew was you desperately wanted to see a smile on his pretty face again.

“Jakey?” you called out, and your voice sounded so small it hurt his heart. He hummed in response, only glancing at you for a fraction of a second. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” he replied, scooping the last of the ice cream in his mouth. As he tasted the strawberry and vanilla flavors, he couldn’t believe he had given his precious mango ice cream up all for a girl who didn’t even like him back. What a fool.

“I don’t know, you’re all- weird, all of a sudden, for lack of a better word.” You searched for some sort of an answer in his eyes, but he supplied you with none. 

Jake sighed deeply. He could feel the ugly mix of emotions in his belly turning into anger - anger at what exactly, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to lay it on you. “It’s just the heat, it’s making me tired,” he said. Sure, it was warm for a May afternoon, but it wasn’t that hot. But you didn’t want to push it.

“Should we go home?“ you offered, and the worry in your voice made him feel even worse. He just couldn’t understand why you were being so nice to him. He knew you probably just thought you were looking after a friend, but he'd rather you not care about his well-being and leave him be. He didn’t need one more reason to like you - he already had plenty of those. 

He nodded, mustering as convincing a smile as he could. “Sure.” 

The walk home was much quieter than usual. You could feel that Jake was keeping something to himself, and it was killing you; but whatever it was, you wanted him to tell you when he felt ready and not feel forced to. Your hand was aching, desperate to reach out and grab his as you had done before, but you were afraid that would only push him away even further. So you stayed silent most of the time, only commenting on the things around you or speaking a thought out loud when you thought it might make Jake smile. Every time his lips curled up, even ever so slightly, your heart swelled with relief.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake was making up his mind. He knew he needed time away from you to gather his feelings before he could see you as a friend again. 

When you reached your house, Jake waited outside with the dogs as you grabbed his bag he’d left upstairs. You hugged goodbye as always, but this one was different - it lasted a few seconds longer than usual, and you could swear Jake held you tighter than he normally would. It felt like he was saying goodbye for more than just a couple days.

You didn’t understand why it made your heart ache so much.

—

The next day, when you walked past Jake and Sunghoon in the hallway, Jake barely glanced at you and only tilted his head in your general direction instead of his usual wide grin and wave. You were so shocked by his sudden snubbing that you halted in your steps right away, looking behind you at his retreating figure. You locked eyes with Sunghoon, who seemed just as confused as you felt. He shrugged at you before returning to his friend and nudging his arm.

On Wednesday morning, you got a text from Jake that he couldn’t make it to your tutoring session that afternoon because of an extra soccer practice to prepare for their game that weekend, something he had never mentioned before.

Thursday and Friday weren’t very different, and your heart became heavier with every time you walked past each other and he acted like you weren’t even there. You desperately wanted to know what you’d done wrong, why he’d started to reply in one-word sentences instead of his usual voice messages and tons of emojis, but no matter how much you cogitated, you couldn’t figure it out. Even when you asked him how his game had gone, a dry Good stared back at you from your phone screen.

That Saturday, your girlfriends came over. Yena had brought beads and strings to make accessories out of, and the mere sight of them had brought fond memories back to all four of you - during your first sleepover in freshman year, this was the exact activity that had kept you occupied for hours. 

You got started on them immediately, each finding a comfortable spot in your room as soft music played in the background. You lay on your bed while Chaewon and Yena took over the floor and Hyewon sat at your desk.

“I’m gonna make one of those phone accessories,” Yena said excitedly, reaching for the biggest, most colorful beads.

“I’m gonna make couple bracelets for Jaemin and I,” Hyewon said somewhat shyly but beaming. Yena and Chaewon groaned at her words, but they gave you an idea.

“You guys are vomit-inducing,” Yena replied, and if you didn’t know your friend any better, just going off the tone of her voice, you’d have thought she was being serious. Hyewon just rolled her eyes, used to this daily slander she received simply for being in a relationship.

“I’ll make something for my little sister,” Chaewon butted in, and you and Yena simultaneously ‘aww’ed. 

“So it’s aww when Chaewon does it for her sister, and it’s vomit-inducing when I do it for my boyfriend?” Hyewon exclaimed, appalled.

“Little sisters are cute. Boyfriends are gross,” Yena replied matter-of-factly, making you giggle.

“Whatever. You guys are just jealous that you’re dying alone and I’m not. What are you making, Y/N?” she asked before Yena could retort again. The two exchanged a glare as you thought over your answer.

“I’m not saying,” you replied with a giggle. 

“She’s making one for Jake, that evil wench,” Chaewon immediately said, making your eyes widen. Yena gasped dramatically while Hyewon smiled at you.

“How did you know?” you asked Chaewon.

“Just your face. You’re so obvious,” she snickered. 

“You’re a traitor, Y/N!” Yena exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at you, and you hid your face in your hands, muttering an apology. “Wasting time and energy on a boy.”

“Don’t listen to her, Y/N. Whatever it is you make, he’ll be super happy you thought of him. Then he’ll finally ask you out and you’ll live happily ever after, just like me and Jaemin,” Hyewon said with a serene smile on her face. Chaewon and Yena exchanged a look, then faked a gagging sound. “So bitter,” Hyewon muttered, shaking her head at your friends.

“I’m not sure about that,” you sighed. “I just want to be friends again. He’s been ignoring me all week.”

All three snapped their heads up at you. “He’s been ignoring you?” Yena echoed, and you meekly nodded. “Give me his phone number. No, give me his address. I’m going there right now,” she said, already sitting up.

“Gosh, Yena, it’s fine,” you said, gesturing at her to sit back down, laughing at your friend’s seriousness. “I’ll see him on Monday anyway, I can just see how he behaves then.”

Yena didn’t look convinced, but she yielded anyway. “If he hurts you, I swear I’ll give him a stern talking to. And a broken nose.” You laughed as you thanked your friend. 

Hyewon asked for more details about this Jake situation, so you filled your friends in about his mysterious behavior that week. Chaewon had been the only one to see it firsthand, when you’d walked to a class together and Jake had walked past you without saying anything. You told them about his sparse answers to your texts, his lack of response to the TikToks you sent him. He wasn’t even reacting to your BeReals anymore. It was just such a complete switch-up in attitude that you had no idea what to make of it. They tried to come up with reasons for it, but it really didn’t make much sense. It just felt like he suddenly decided to hate you - or maybe you had been interpreting everything wrong, and the two of you had never been friends in the first place. 

“This is so confusing,” Chaewon suddenly said, seeming lost in thought. “I thought for sure that he liked you.”

“Liked… me?” you echoed.

“Yeah. Just the way he was when we were at the diner. He kept looking at you and was always smiling and blushing whenever you talked to him. Also the way Jay and Sunghoon were behaving. Boys are so obvious when their friend likes someone, it’s like they’re trying to fumble it for him. And I mean, anyone with functioning eyes can see that you like him too, so I don’t know why he’s doing this all of a sudden.”

Yena sighed. “Boys are stupid.”

“That, they are,” you agreed, sighing as well and returning your attention to your craft. Maybe a simple gift like this wouldn’t fix what was going on between you and Jake, but you had to at least try. You couldn’t let go of your friendship so easily.

Even though it seemed as though he could.

Nothing changed the next week. On Monday, you woke up to a text that pulled your heart down into your stomach.

jakey-poo i think we should stop tutoring each other for now

For an hour as you ate breakfast and got ready for school, you ruminated over your answer, only to ask him a simple why? in the end.

jakey-poo i’m to busy w soccer practice and other stuff we can start again when exams are near

you oh okay

You felt pathetic, but you had no idea what to say. You couldn’t force him into this, and you definitely couldn’t show up at his house and demand a better explanation. If you were Yena or Chaewon, maybe you could - but you weren’t. You couldn’t even bring yourself to ask him if the two of you could still hang out outside of that, so scared you were for his inevitable rejection.

During the week, you tried to find a time when you could give him your small handmade gift, but Jake wasn’t even looking you in the eyes anymore. The only time you made eye contact with him over those five days was on Wednesday at lunch - as you walked into the cafeteria, you scanned the whole room, unconsciously searching for him. When you did, he was already looking at you - he was close enough for you to see the slight frown in his eyebrows, the lack of the usual glint in his eyes. But as soon as he’d seen you’d found him, he turned away. You only looked away when Chaewon called out your name.

In the few classes you had together, he always slipped away before you could get to him. Him walking past you like he couldn’t even see you broke your heart a little bit more every time, and by Friday, you had completely given up. Your friendship with Jake was over, and you had no idea why, no idea who or what to blame.

Monday and Wednesday afternoons felt empty now that you had gotten used to spending them with him, and you couldn’t even walk Kiwi without missing him. He seemed to miss Jake and Layla too - he’d sometimes tilt his head at you as if asking where your new friends were, and when you got to the park, he’d gloomily stick to you instead of running around like he usually would, especially when Layla was there.

The worst part was at night, when your thoughts kept you up. You’d reread your and Jake’s text conversations, wondering what went so wrong so quickly, warm tears spilling from your eyes out of sadness and tiredness. On those nights, you’d sneak Kiwi up to your room and let him cuddle up to you in your bed. You’d comfort each other that way.

You had no idea that a couple kilometers away, Jake lay in bed sleepless as well, Layla at the edge of his bed and whining in her sleep. You had no idea that missing you had carved a deep hole in his chest.

—

Enough was enough.

It had been days since Layla had last seen Kiwi, and to a young pup like her, that felt like eternity. Lately, Jake hadn’t seemed happy to go on walks with her like he used to, and he barely had any energy to play with her. She also hadn’t seen you in days, and she wondered if that had anything to do with Jake’s recent despondency. 

But thankfully, Layla was a smart girl, so she knew exactly what to do to fix this dire situation. On Friday, she waited for Jake to come back from soccer practice and take her on a walk. As soon as they reached the sidewalk outside of their house, she pulled on her leash in the opposite direction of their usual route. Jake tried pulling her the other way, but she wouldn’t budge.

“We’re going that way, Layla,” Jake said, amused by his dog’s sudden stubbornness. Layla barked back. “Come on!” 

She was really not moving. “We never go that way,” Jake said, sighing. “That way’s the-”

That’s when he realized. Layla wanted to go to the park you went to with Kiwi. “But what if we ran into them?” Jake asked. 

Layla barked again. She wanted to say, That’s exactly why I want to go there, but of course Jake didn’t understand. He sighed again and obliged, letting Layla lead the way. She had a good feeling that she’d finally see her friends again today. 

Jake’s heart started beating faster with every step he took, knowing that you might be out right now, too. When he’d seen you at school, you’d seemed as sad as he was, and he felt terrible for perhaps being the reason behind it - but he didn’t know what else to do. He could either spare your feelings or his. If this was hurting you, he knew you’d move on quickly enough anyway - and when he came to terms with being just friends with you, he’d come back, and everything would be perfect like it used to be. Foolproof plan.

If there was one thing Jake had learned from the tutoring sessions with you, it was that the weather always reflected the protagonist’s inner thoughts. If they were upset, it would be gray and rainy - if they were happy, it would be warm and sunny. Jake glared at the sun, just another reminder that he wasn’t the main character in this story. If he was, it would be thundering and lightning would be striking.

As if his life was a joke, two minutes after Jake and Layla had walked into the park, he saw you. At least you were facing the other direction, so you couldn’t see him, and he could redirect his route to avoid you. But he let himself indulge in the moment for a few seconds. You had laid out a picnic blanket for you and Kiwi and rested on your stomach with your elbows propping you up, reading a book. Kiwi slept peacefully next to you - this dog was the furthest thing from a guard dog Jake had ever seen. You kicked your feet up in the air, flip flops discarded to the side of the blanket. Jake was happy to see you like this, enjoying the warmth of this sunny May afternoon. 

He was about to walk away, but a sudden movement caught his eye. Two school kids started running to you, and before you could even register their presence, one of them snatched your flip flops and they both sprinted away, shrieking with laughter like two little devils. Where the hell were their parents?!

Without thinking, Jake started running after them, and so did Kiwi and Layla. 

“Hey! Come back here!” Jake yelled, hoping in vain that these kids would listen to someone older than them. Kiwi did his best, but his tiny legs didn’t allow for such a chase - Layla, barking loudly at the thieves, was the first to reach them, and she managed to scare them so much, they tripped over their feet. But unlike them, she was well-behaved, so she sat once her job was done and waited for Jake to arrive. 

“What are you two doing? You can’t just steal other people’s things!” he admonished, holding onto his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

Both kids were already teary-eyed. “We just wanted to play a prank, we’re sorry!” one of them quickly said, voice shaky.

“It’s not to me you should apologize, but to her,” Jake said, turning around to point in your direction. That’s when he noticed you sitting on your knees, hands covering your face as your shoulders trembled. “You made her cry!” Jake exclaimed, tone much angrier than seconds prior. “Let’s go,” he said, grabbing the kids by their shoulders and forcing them to keep up with his quick steps.

You didn’t notice their presence in front of you until Jake prompted them. At the sound of the all too familiar voice, you whipped your head up. Jake swore he heard his heart breaking when he saw your red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. You barely heard the kids’ apology, so amazed you were at suddenly seeing Jake.

“We’re sorry for stealing your flip-flops and making you cry,” the first one said.

“Sorry,” repeated the other one, handing you your shoes.

“Oh, right. Thanks, just don’t do it again,” you replied, sniffing as you took back your shoes.

“We won’t!” they replied in unison before running away once more.

Jake stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure what to say. He watched you stare at your flip flops like you’d never seen them before in your life. “You’re not going to thank me for catching those delinquents?” he asked after a small while, chuckling slightly.

This made you look up at him. He gulped as your eyes met. Then, you burst into sobs again, and Jake started panicking. He crouched down to your level, first holding you by the shoulders then forcing your head out of your hands so he could wipe away your tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“No no no, why are you crying, Y/N?” he asked softly, pulling you into a hug.

You continued crying into his shoulder, ignoring Kiwi and Layla’s confused stares. “You- you- I haven’t seen you in ages!” you exclaimed.

Jake sighed. He didn’t understand why you were crying like this for him, all he knew was that he’d never felt so awful. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered into your hair, pulling your shaking body closer to him. “I’m sorry.”

You leaned back to glare at Jake, your bottom lip jutting out in discontent. “Do you even know how much I missed you?”

Jake held your head in his hands like it was the most precious thing in the world. Mouth agape in surprise, he looked at you with sad eyes. “You… you did?”

Your eyebrows creased. “Of course I did!” Another sob rippled through your body, and Jake took you back in his arms, wrapping them around your shoulders and resting his cheek against your hair. 

“I missed you too.”

“Then why did you do this?” you asked, voice breaking.

“Because I didn’t want to get hurt,” Jake whispered back. “But I didn’t think I’d hurt you. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You leaned back again, but this time, you looked confused rather than angry. His eyes were soft as they scanned your face and as he brushed strands of your hair back behind your ears. “Why would you get hurt?” you asked again, bringing your voice to the same volume as his.

Jake sighed and squeezed his eyes shut for a second, as if in pain, before opening them again and boring them into yours. “I like you so, so much Y/N. So much so that I don’t know what to do with myself. But I know that you don’t feel the same way, and I was scared that by staying by your side, I’d just fall in love with you even more and get hurt in the end. So I pushed you away because I didn’t know what else to do, but I’m so sorry I- You’re crying again?”

Your fists grabbed at the front of Jake’s t-shirt as sobs raked through your body once more. It was official - Jake was the stupidest person you’d ever met. And you were in love with him.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because I like you too, you idiot!” you yelled back. Your tears were probably staining his t-shirt, but you couldn’t care less. He liked you. Jake liked you.

You were too busy crying to see Jake’s eyes slowly widening in disbelief. “You what?!”

Gently, Jake pushed your shoulders back so he could look at you. Even with puffy eyes and a runny nose, you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Pretty like an angel that had graced the Earth with her presence. “You what?” he repeated, just to hear you say it again.

“I like you, Jake. I’m so in love with you it's actually pathetic,” you said with a chuckle, looking down out of shyness. But when you looked back up, Jake’s eyes were going back and forth between yours, the expression on his face like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard but desperately hoped it was true.

As you locked eyes, both of your faces lit up with grins. You burst into laughter together, finding each other’s hands and intertwining your fingers together. Then Jake brought you back into his arms, holding tightly, as if he was scared you might disappear any second. Kiwi and Layla had long walked away to give the two of you some needed privacy.

In each other’s arms, you rocked side to side gently and laughed for no reason other than the incredible fact your feelings were reciprocated. “You stink, you know,” you suddenly said in-between giggles. “You sweat while you ran after those kids.”

“I sweat? You mean I swote, right?” Jake asked a pause.

You leaned back to look at Jake. “Swote?” you echoed, and he nodded. Your umpteenth smile made your cheeks lift. “You have to be kidding-”

“I am,” Jake cut off, mirroring your smile. “I just wanted to make you laugh.”

You gasped and lightly punched his chest before letting your body fall against his again. “You’re so silly,” you said, sighing in bliss at the sound of his giggles.

Then all of a sudden, Jake pulled away and looked at you, almost frightened. “What about Sunghoon?” 

“What about him?” you asked back, confused by Jake’s question.

“I thought you- Didn’t you- you know…”

You tilted your head at Jake, a small grin spreading on your lips again. “I don’t know.”

“I thought you liked him…” Jake mumbled, looking away with a pout.

Before you could stop it, a noise of confusion left your throat. You looked at Jake like he was insane. “I can barely have a conversation with Sunghoon, what made you think I liked him?”

Jake pursed his lips and let a resigned puff of air out of his nose. “I, um- Remember when we mixed our backpacks up?” he asked and you nodded, smiling at the fun memory. “I may have, um, I may have read… your… diary,” he admitted, voice getting quieter with each word. He dared a glance at you - you looked horrified, eyes wide and mouth agape. “And you wrote that you liked Sunghoon,” he finished with a whisper.

It was silent for a few seconds, and Jake was bracing himself for a slap to the face or your screams, until you did the last thing Jake expected you to do - you laughed. You laughed so hard and for so long that he got scared you had gone insane and this was the first part of your mental breakdown before you murdered him in cold blood for having invaded your privacy. He would’ve deserved it, he thought.

“I don’t- oh my God, Jake, I don’t- I don’t like Sunghoon. I never really have, or not in the way you think, I can’t- oh my God,” you explained in between giggles, trying to catch your breath but starting to laugh again every time you managed to compose yourself. Jake tried to laugh along, but he was too confused to do so properly.

“You’re not mad?” Jake asked, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“No,” you replied, shaking your head and the last giggles out of your throat. “You read it ages ago, and we didn’t even know each other back then, there’s no point in being mad now. It’s just funny - I know exactly why you think I liked Sunghoon, but I didn’t. Not really. And even if I did, those feelings are nothing compared to the ones I have for you now,” you said, beaming. A blush spread on Jake’s cheeks, and you could tell he was trying (and failing) to contain a proud grin.

You explained to Jake the ‘character’ thing you and your friends had going on and that Sunghoon (and hat guy) just happened to be one of them - you watched as Jake narrowed his eyes and slowly nodded, trying to understand this concept that was so foreign to him. 

“You know, it all makes a lot more sense now,” Jake said when you were explaining. “It would’ve been weird for you to like Sunghoon when I was right there.” He smirked down at you as you playfully rolled your eyes. 

“Oh my God!” you suddenly exclaimed, startling Jake in the process. Dramatic as always, he put a hand over his heart and exhaled loudly. “I have something for you. For us, actually.” You reached into your bag and got out the two accessories you’d made for you and Jake. “These are for us to put on our backpacks, so that we don’t confuse them again. They also match.”

Jake’s eyes were fixated on the string of beads as you placed into his palm. “I tried to give it to you over the week, but…” 

A teardrop fell into Jake’s palms, and when you looked at him, you realized he’d started crying. “Jake?” you cooed softly, and he sniffled, wiping away the tears from his eyes.

As a response, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and buried his face in your hair. “Thank you. And I’m sorry. I promise you’ll never go a second without my undivided attention from now on,” he said, voice shaking with emotion, and you hummed happily.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

He leaned back, and you were relieved to find the familiar puppyish grin on his lips. You gazed into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, and before he could stop himself, he grabbed your head in his hands and pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, but when his face was back in front of yours, your eyes immediately drifted to his lips. They looked soft and plump and pink, and were utterly inviting. Every time you’d started daydreaming about kissing Jake, you’d stopped yourself, not wanting to over-indulge in your fantasies. But was this finally, really happening?

“Y/N?” Jake said quietly. You could swear his face was getting closer.

“Hm?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your face broke out into a grin. Without warning, you pressed your lips against Jake’s - initially just for a peck, but as soon as you started pulling away, Jake chased after your lips and trapped them into a kiss, a proper one this time. You’d never done this before, so it was naturally somewhat clumsy, but you and Jake were so giddy with excitement that you couldn’t care less. So what if you were smiling so hard, your teeth clashed against his, or you kept bumping noses? You were kissing Jake Sim. 

The second time around, he let you pull away to catch your breath, and you wished you could photograph the sight in front of you - Jake with flushed cheeks, closed eyes and a serene smile on his face. He was so pretty, and now, he was all yours.

When he opens his eyes and finds you looking at him, his smile widens. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Yes,” you echoed, laughing. You pressed your lips to his cheek before burying your face in the crook of his neck.

He hugged you to him and the sweet sound of his giggles filled your ears and your heart. “My girl,” he whispered, before leaning his head back, face to the sky, and screaming it loud enough for the whole park to hear. You tried to shush him, but you couldn’t stop laughing yourself out of sheer excitement. Layla and Kiwi came running back to you, barking happily and trying to lick your faces. 

“I cried so much today, my eyes are gonna be puffy tomorrow morning,” you said between giggles. 

Jake pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. “I’ll make sure you never cry again, Y/N,” he said, and he sounded so genuine, you almost wanted to cry again right then and there.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur - while you and Jake kissed, laughed, talked, and hugged, hours that felt like minutes passed you by. Jake kept on looking at the accessory you made him, poking fun at you for knowing his favorite color even though he’d never mentioned it.

“It was a lucky guess,” you grumbled. “Your room’s walls are that color,” you said, pointing to a particular dark blue bead.

“I love it,” he replied with a kiss to your forehead.

As always, he walks you home - and this time, you can take his hand without any hesitation. Your mom had come home from work while you and Jake were out, and you found her in the kitchen, prepping some veggies for dinner. 

As soon as Jake introduced himself, a flash of revelation struck her and she shot you a knowing smirk. “So you’re Jake,” she said, and the boy glanced at you with amused confusion. “That one over there has been badgering me about you these past few weeks.”

Apparently, you agreeing to be his girlfriend had already gone to his head, because instead of looking surprised at your mom’s words, he slowly turned to you with an arrogant smirk gracing his lips. “Has she?”

Your mom nodded slowly. “Oh, yes.” Then her expression slowly morphed into something else as she remembered your red, puffy eyes from the other evening when you’d told her about what was going on with Jake. She raised her kitchen knife and pointed it straight to him, eyes narrowed. “If you ever hurt my daughter again, I’m putting you in the lasagna, young man.”

Jake gulped, smirk completely wiped off of his face. You just watched in amusement. “I- I won’t,” he stuttered, eyes fixed on the blade of the knife.

A wide grin reappeared on your mom’s face as she went back to cutting the vegetables. “Good!” 

Jake looked at you for some sort of explanation, but you simply shrugged. He’d just have to get used to your mom’s crazy. 

“You know, you’re just as handsome as she described,” your mom told Jake with a wink.

“Mom, please!” you exclaimed, cheeks burning with heat. You liked it better when she was threatening your boyfriend with a knife, but he was relieved by the new turn this conversation had taken.

“What else has she said?”

“Oh, you know, just your typical he’s so smart, he’s so cute, he’s so funny-”

“Okay, that’s it!” you cut in before your mom could spill more on you. You ignored Jake’s noises of complaint as you grabbed him by the shoulders and led him towards the door. “I think it’s time for you to go home, no?” 

“Y/N, come on!” Jake whined, giggling. 

“Why don’t you stay for dinner, Jake?” your mom offered, making you stop in your tracks. You stared wide-eyed at her but she just looked at Jake, wearing an inviting smile.

“Sure!” Jake beamed. “I just need to call my mom.”

“Oh, invite her along! I always make enough to feed an army, anyway.”

“Really?” Jake asked, incredulous. Since his brother had left for university, it had always been just he and his mom at the dinner table. The thought of sharing a meal with you and your mom filled his heart with warmth. 

“Yeah!”

Jake smiled giddily as he got his phone out. “Thanks, she’ll be stoked.”

Although you both wanted to help your mom, she urged you to stay outside with the dogs and enjoy the last rays of sunshine of the day, insisting she didn’t need any help. So you and Jake spent some time throwing sticks for Kiwi and Layla and giggling at their cuteness. Kiwi quickly got exhausted and came to lie down at your feet, but Layla was tireless. “Your dog, your responsibility,” you said as you sat down next to Kiwi, rubbing his tummy and watching Jake throw the stick over and over again for Layla.

Jake was as relentless as Layla, and every time she ran after the stick, he ran to you and pressed a kiss to another part of your face, making you giggle every time. Once on your forehead, once on your nose, once on your cheek, then the other, and once on your lips.

Then his mom rang the bell, and as your mom opened the door for her, the oddest thing happened - they called out each other’s name and hugged as if they were old friends. You and Jake exchanged a confused look before turning your attention back to them.

“What a coincidence!”

“Right! Such a small world, I can’t believe you’re my daughter’s boyfriend’s mom.”

“Boyfriend? Gosh, has he finally asked her out? I was going crazy seeing him moping around in his room!”

“Mom!” Jake yelled, face already reddening as you burst into laughter.

You joined them inside the house and set the table while your mom finished up dinner. Jake’s mom had brought a bottle of red wine as a gift, so she poured two glasses for her and your mom, but you and Jake stuck to Sprite. 

Apparently, they knew each other from some yoga class they both went to every Sunday - you found out this was the woman your mom often went out for lunch or drinks with. They were so excited to meet each other like this that they talked most of the time, leaving you and Jake to eat your food quietly and giggling every time you made eye contact or your feet touched under the table. 

Just as you were about to take your last bite of lasagna, your phone pinged with a message. Curiously, so did Jake’s. Chaewon had sent a message into the group chat, asking to meet her at work when her shift was done because she was craving an Oreo milkshake.

chae bae y/n u better come ik ur not doing anything better tonight anyway

You scoffed. You were doing something better.

“Shit, today’s Friday! The boys are waiting for me at the diner, I completely forgot,” Jake exclaimed as he read the messages on his phone.

“Language, Jake,” his mom scolded.

“At the diner?” you repeated.

“Yeah, that one we went to last time. Why?” Jake asked when he noticed your surprised expression.

“That’s where Chaewon wants to meet.”

You both turned to your respective moms, silently asking for permission to leave the dinner table.

“Just go,” your mother said with a smile.

“I’ll take Layla home later,” Jake’s mom added.

You thanked them before rushing to get a bag and heading to the bus stop, hoping a bus would come by soon. Twenty minutes later, you were opening the doors of the diner and looking around for your friends, who were nowhere to be found. You were fishing your phone out of your pocket to call Chaewon when a familiar voice caught your and Jake’s attention.

“What are they doing together?” you heard Jay say, followed by loud shushes. You turned your head to find all five of your friends (plus Jaemin) crammed in a booth in the corner that was somewhat hidden from the rest of the restaurant. But they were trying so hard to be discreet that it made their presence even more obvious - they hid their faces with their hands as if that would make them disappear from your view. You and Jake shared a look before chuckling, shaking your head at your friends.

“Whatever, they’ve clearly found us,” Jay sighed and exited the booth, walking towards the two of you.

“Were you guys trying to get us to make up or something?” Jake asked with an amused smile.

“Yeah, we grouped up and planned this whole thing. It was a real team effort.”

“It might’ve worked better if you hadn’t all stayed here, you guys were so obvious,” you chided.

“Tell that to your friends over there! They insisted on watching it unfold,” Jay grumbled, and you looked behind him to see your friends frantically waving at you.

You switched to a bigger booth that could accommodate all seven of you, and as soon as you’d placed your orders, Yena practically pounced on you, demanding an explanation as to how the two of you were already made up.

You turned to look at Jake and smiled at him before answering. “It’s all thanks to Kiwi, really,” you told Yena.

“Kiwi? As in your dog Kiwi?” Chaewon asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“Mh-hm.” In your peripheral, you noticed Jake tilting his head at you.

“You mean Layla, right?”

You imitated his head movement. “No, I mean Kiwi.”

“But Layla made me go to the park today. I wouldn’t have gone there if it wasn’t for her,” Jake insisted, giving you an are you being serious look that you mirrored.

“I wasn’t going to go outside at all but Kiwi kept bugging me to take him on a walk, that’s why I was in the park in the first place. It’s thanks to Kiwi,” you repeated.

“It’s thanks to Layla,” Jake retorted, playfully narrowing his eyes at you.

“Trouble in paradise,” Jaemin whispered, and Hyewon slapped his arm.

The whole table was silent as you and Jake stared each other down, waiting to see who would cave first. It was like everyone could breathe again when Jake’s face broke out into a grin and he rested his arm behind your shoulders. “Okay, it’s thanks to Kiwi,” he conceded, making you hum in satisfaction. You rested your head on his shoulder and ignored Yena’s groan of disgust at the PDA.

But Jake, as always, wasn’t letting you off the hook so easily. “And Layla.”

—

02.06.202X - 12:18

rodrigo hater y/n i can see you being gross from across the courtyard can u guys not feed each other ur still on school grounds and ur ruining my day have some decency

sweet hyewon you guys are super cute <3  jaemin and i only have the same lunch period once a week i miss him

rodrigo hater ugh wheres chaewon she’d have my back

you hyewon love u yena frigg off you’re not going to like this… i think she’s with sunghoon rodrigo hater WHAT

sweet hyewon omg hahahaha saw it coming cuuuuute

rodrigo hater i hate you all so much you’re all kicked out of my celibacy club

chae bae we weren’t part of it in the first place

rodrigo hater GO AWAY YOU TRAITOR

03.06.202X - 09:15

you jake wake up  wake up wake up please

jake ??? R U okay?

you kiwi keeps whining i think he wants to see layla come over?

jake . did u just wake me up before 10 am on a sunday morning for this

you i made pancakes?

jake i’m going back to sleep

you but i miss you :(

jake running

07.06.202X - 16:39

stink #1 hey

jake no

stink #1 wtf man

jake im busy

stink #1 smooching ur girl?

jake yeah stay mad bro

stink #1 where’s hoon

stink #2 he’s at ice skating practice with me <3 this is chaewon btw

jake AYO????

stink #1 HE GAVE YOU ACCESS TO HIS PHONE???

stink #2 hehehe bye losers

stink #1 oh my god jake this is huge

jake right… our little boy he’s grown so much

stink #1 i’m getting teary eyed anyway i wanted to say i think we should invite the girls to bro night more often it’s always fun with them

jake oh? if u wanna see yena just say so bro

stink #1 fuck u man

jake ur literally so obvious you get 100% more obnoxious when she’s around

stink #1 idc she laughs at my jokes

jake which is proof that there’s something wrong w her anyway i’ll ask my girl about it

stink #1 ew and thx ^^

09.06.202X - 17:03

jakey-poo y/nnnnnn y/n hellloooooo y/n y/n y/n baby :(((( where are u what r u doing i miss you hello y/n my baby darling angel pls answer me layla misses you

you jake sim

jakey-poo HIIIIII

you jay is a genius i’m anime pomodoroing the hell out of this essay it’s working so well i’m almost done with it already

jakey-poo don’t compliment another man ever again i’m going to cry

you but jay’s your friend

jakey-poo i’ll kill him if i have to

you gosh okay jay’s an idiot

jakey-poo hahaha he is ice cream after dinner ???

you duh

31.07.202X - 21:03

jakey-poo i’m waiting for you outside the theater baby we have a lot of talking to do. i can’t believe you kissed someone else in front of me

you jake baby it was just acting <3 you know you’re the only one i really kiss

jakey-poo i know i am so come here and kiss me quick you did so well and you were so pretty on stage and i love you so much  COME QUICK I WANNA KISS YOU

you i’m hurrying i promise but a lot of people are trying to talk to me :(

jakey-poo ofc they are you killed it my baby’s already famous <3

you hehe love you my jakey-poo

jakey-poo STOP IT WITH THAT

permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 (ask to be removed/added!)

© asahicore on Tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs always appreciated!

[brrahbrrahcharacterimagines]

Mission Gone Right (Clint Barton/Hawkeye x Reader)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Clint Barton/Hawkeye Reader

Word Count: 6482

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Minors DNI!, Sexual themes, one bed trope, brief weapon mention, dirty talk, masturbation (fem), oral (fem and male receiving), nipple talk, kissing, pining, cum, p in v (wrap it before you tap it!)... let me know if I missed something :)

Request: Hello there! :) I really enjoy and love your writing, it's really good! I like the Steve Rogers: not so pure, and I was wondering if you could write something like that, but with Clint Barton/Hawkeye x reader? Thank you kindly and have a wonderful day! :) - Anon

Summary: You and Clint had been partners, and somewhat friends, for a long time. When you have to pretend to be a wedded couple in love to escape a tense mission, what could happen when the hotel room ends up with only one bed?

A/N: I decided to place this request in the OG Avengers era, I hope that's alright! Also, he's single in this universe because I don't want to write in cheating or give him a sad end to his marriage :(

As a hero without true "superpowers," you oftentimes got paired on missions with Hawkeye. This never bothered you, but it did seem odd that they would place you both together instead of having you each team up with a powered hero.

Not to say that you weren't strong in your own right; your skill with shuriken was near unmatched. Between your use of shuriken and your partner's use of bow and arrow, you were a fearsome duo.

"(L/n), Barton." Greeted Fury as you entered the briefing room. "Thank you for coming quickly."

"With all due respect sir," you said, "what else would we be doing?"

Fury sighed at your sarcasm, ignoring it as he continued.

"I have a mission for the two of you."

"What do you need, sir?" Asked Clint. Fury seemed to pause for a moment, as if he didn't want to reveal the details of the mission. Nevertheless, he began speaking again.

"We have a high profile target who we need some more information on."

"Uh, why the need for the pause then?" You asked. Fury would have rolled his eye had he not been so used to your bratty antics.

"Maybe, you should let me finish," he stated slowly. "We received intel alerting us that said target will be at a gala this evening, which is where the two of you will find him."

Reading between the lines, paired with your knowledge of the different types of missions offered by SHIELD, your eyes narrowed at Fury.

"You're sending us, who may I remind you are Avengers, on an undercover mission?" You asked incredulously. You knew that the two of you, along with maybe Nat, were the least recognizable of the group. Steve or Tony tended to get recognized the most, at least when Bruce wasn't in Hulk-mode. But still, it was like a slap in the face to assume nobody would recognize you at said event.

"The target may be at a gala, but he is incredibly dangerous. I don't trust our typical undercover agents with this mission."

You thought on Fury's words for a moment, mulling them over. Deciding that your ego was enough appeased, you nodded.

"So what do we need to know?"

Another agent spent time briefing you and Clint on the target; what he looked like along with any other pertinent information. The agent also explained to you that while you would be able to hide a few shuriken on yourself, Clint would have to go in bow-and-arrow-less. It's a pretty difficult weapon to conceal. Even with your shuriken being small, you knew you wouldn't be able to hide too many under whatever outfit SHIELD provided. You were beginning to understand why the mission was considered as dangerous as it was.

"There's one more thing you should know," said the agent. "To help conceal your identities, you are to pose as partners."

Clint coughed, seeming to choke on his own saliva. You just looked blankly at the agent.

"Are we not already?"

"I think they mean-" said Clint, rising his eyebrows as he motioned his head, trying to indicate to you his meaning without putting words to it. Suddenly understanding what he meant, you let out a small 'oh,' feeling your face heat. You have to admit the thought has crossed your mind before. Clint was an attractive man, and your line of work did tend to involve getting to look at him in a sleeveless outfit flexing his muscles all day. You never let it go further than that though, just thoughts.

Once all of the information had been provided, you and Clint were released back to each of your quarters to prepare for that evening.

"You know, Fury didn't mean it as an insult." Said Clint as the two of you walked together. You sighed.

"I know, it's just that I'm tired of being passed over."

At your words, Clint looked at you with something you couldn't quite place. Knowing your time to get ready was limited, you decided it wasn't worth thinking too much about it.

"Well, see you soon, hubby," you said with a fake salute, entering your room. Closing the door behind you, you missed the look on Clint's face at his new nickname.

Now alone in your room, you noticed the outfit SHIELD had arranged for you.

"You've got to be kidding me." You muttered as you grabbed the, admittedly little amount of, clothing. It was a dress, deep purple in color with just the right amount of shine to it. Even before putting it on, you knew it would leave little to the imagination. They were right when they said I wouldn't be able to bring many shuriken.

With hair done and makeup (if preferred) finished, it finally came time to put the dress on. It slipped on easier than you expected, and for as tight as it looked on the hanger it was rather flattering now that it was on you. It hugged your curves in a way that made just standing there look sensual. You were thankful to have been able to hide a few shuriken in a holster on one of your upper thighs, but a high slit up your other leg made hiding any others impossible.

You had to admit, you felt sexy. This was outside of your usual wardrobe, but whoever picks the undercover mission outfits should get a bonus.

A knock on your door tore you from your thoughts. You opened it, revealing a, rather attractive-looking, Clint Barton. Although he didn't have his arms exposed as usual, something about his change in attire was enticing. Again, whoever picks the outfits should get a bonus. The suit was fitted to Clint perfectly, somehow showing off his muscular physique while keeping him entirely covered.

Unbeknownst to you, Clint couldn't help but check you out as you did the same to him. The gentle curve of your hips, your exposed leg to your thigh, and your cleavage looking as it could spill right over the cups of the dress. Hell, he almost wanted them to.

"You look good," you tell your partner, trying to hide the fact that you had just ogled all over him. Thankfully, he was a bit too busy to notice.

"You too," he said, suddenly cocking a smile, "Wifey." You gave him a puzzled look. "What? You called me Hubby."

Forgot about that, you thought. I need to keep my head on straight if this mission is going to go well.

"Well," you said, jokingly looping your arm with his. "You lead the way."

Clint chuckled at your antics, but he did as you asked. He led you outside to the limousine SHIELD had prepared for the both of you. You got in, careful not to expose more than you wanted as you arranged your body into the vehicle. Clint followed, and despite the amount of room inside, he slid onto the bench seat next to you.

"I'm a method actor," he said with a wink. "And you're going to be my wife in about 30 minutes."

Rolling your eyes at your partner, you knew in your mind he was just being an ass. Yet, your mind began to wander against your will. You realize the night will not just mean looking good and standing in the same vicinity as each other. You had to convince a room of dangerous people that Clint and yourself were married. That meant physical contact, and plenty of it.

It wasn't an entirely unpleasant thought, leaning against his muscular chest or feeling his strong arm around your lower back. The thought made your body heat, and as pleasant as it was it also made you incredibly nervous. You had never had trouble working with Clint, but something about the way your mind kept wandering worried you that you weren't at the top of your game. You needed to stay focused.

The 30 min ride began to feel much longer. A bit on edge, you began rhythmically drumming your fingers on your thigh as you waited. Suddenly the drumming stopped, as you felt Clint's hand grab your own.

"You're driving me crazy," he said, irritation lacing his tone. "It's like clicking a pen."

Despite the anger in his tone, he didn't let go of your hand. He simply adjusted so he was holding more than grabbing. You didn't mind, you had to get into character too.

Finally arriving, Clint got out of the limo first before extending his hand back towards you to help you get out gracefully. Instead of letting go once you were standing, he instead interlocked your fingers.

"Let's go get this guy," he said with a raise of his eyebrows, "Babe."

Although you knew he was teasing because of the mission, you couldn't help the smile that rose to your face. Is this really all it took for you to lose your mind? Your colleague, and friend for that matter, just had to wear a suit and you lost it? Maybe you'd just been single too long, but that was something to deal with after this mission was over.

You and Clint made your way into the gala, staying close to each other. Not seeing the target yet, you decided to grab a drink and mingle.

"So, how did the two of you meet?" Asked the women who had struck up a conversation with the two of you.

"At work," replied Clint, taking the moment to smile down at you. You tried to suppress the flutter of your heart at his soft expression. "She just caught my eye." He was smart, using the truth as a way to embellish your cover. Clint wrapped his arm around your waist, gently pulling you closer to him. You smiled back at him, batting your eyelashes.

"He's being modest, he's the one who caught my eye." You were laying it on thick, but you didn't really care. You had just spotted the target heading your way. You placed a hand on Clint's chest. This time, you didn't miss the way his expression faltered for a moment as his eyes flicked down to your movements. You pulled away, worried you had gone too far and made him uncomfortable. "I mean, just look at him."

As you finished your act, you noticed the target walk just past the two of you.

"Could you excuse us?" Asked Clint, politely exiting the conversation so the two of you could tail the man. You followed him from afar until he went through a doorway, disappearing behind it.

"Damn it." You whispered. Turning around, you found an unusual amount of eyes on you. Guards stationed around the room looked at the pair of you, and you noticed a few begin walking your way. "Clint, we've got trouble."

The two of you began making your way back through the crowd, trying to blend in. Regardless of your efforts, guards continued to slink your way.

"We've got to go," said Clint lowly. His hand made it's way to your waist, helping guide you through the crowd of people and towards the front door. Thankfully, your limo returned quickly so you could make your exit.

Clint helped you in, moving to join you. Before he could, a large, gloved hand grasped his arm.

"Where are you two off to?" Asked a gruff voice.

Shit.

Thinking quickly, you decided to use your given roles to your advantage.

"Excuse me?" You squealed. "Unhand my husband." The man's grip loosened, but he didn't fully let go. "What's going on?"

"Ma'am, what's go you both leaving in such as rush?" His eyes narrowed, not fully believing either of you. You did the only thing you could think of to get him off your back.

"What are you, a pervert?" You asked, playing up the bratty whininess in your voice. You used his moment of surprise to pull Clint towards you while the man's grip was weakened. "We're going somewhere more, private." You purred seductively, lathering it on thick as you gave Clint your best bedroom eyes. You ran a hand up his thigh as he took a seat next to you. "Right, Baby?"

Clint's voice was noticeably lower as he responded, "uh, yeah." Smooth, Barton.

You leaned in towards Clint, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck. Damn he smelled good. Almost instinctively, his hands made their way to your hips. You couldn't deny it felt good. You peppered soft, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, hoping the guard would get the message and fall for the ploy.

"What, are you going to watch?" You asked sarcastically, the momentary pause of your actions allowing you to realize how tight Clint was gripping you, and how heavy his breaths were. Your words had the intended effect, with the guard seeming embarrassed as he let the door close. As soon as it did, the driver hit the gas.

You pulled back from Clint, the embarrassment hitting you. You felt your face heat up.

"Sorry," you said awkwardly, trying to chuckle to ease the tension. "It's all I could think of."

"It's okay." He replied, his words short. "It worked."

Great, you thought, now he's uncomfortable. No wonder, after all that.

The two of you sat in uncomfortable silence, still seated close. You did your best to give him the space you could, but your exposed leg still sat touching his. You may not have paid it much mind, but if you had dared to look his way you would have seen Clint's eyes glued.

A sudden ring stunned you both, and Clint answered the phone.

"Detective Fury?" He asked. He listened for a moment to whatever Fury was telling him, nodding slowly. "Well, uh," his eyes flipped to you then quickly away. "We had to play into our cover. Y/n may have told them we were..." He coughed. "Headed somewhere 'more private'."

Your embarrassment only heightened. Not only did you make Clint uncomfortable, but now your boss knows.

"Yes sir, I understand." Said Clint. Hanging up, he looked back to you. "We're being followed."

"Shit!" You exclaimed. One guard may have fallen for your trick, but the target must have sent someone after you to be sure.

"So," said Clint slowly. "Fury has booked us a hotel room. We're headed there now."

Your mouth fell open, eyes wide.

"What do you-"

"Not to do that!" Exclaimed Clint, his own eyes going wide. "Just so when they follow our car, it looks like we were telling the truth."

Your suddenly racing heartrate slows again.

"Oh, okay." Your breathing slows as well, calming back down. You rode the rest of the way to the hotel in continued silence, thankful Fury had found one nearby.

Arriving and getting out of the vehicle yet again, you were surprised when Clint pulled you to him.

"We've got to be believable," he whispered, hands on your hips pulling them dangerously close to his own. One hand trailed further down, resting on your ass. "Is that alright?"

Of course, even in a dire situation Clint would ask a question like that. You nod, tilting your head to give him access to your neck. You bit your lip as his own lips made contact with your neck, holding back a moan that threatened to come out. While you may have been pretending, it didn't mean his lips didn't feel excruciatingly good.

Too quickly for your liking, he pulled back. There was a darkness in his eyes looking down at you. He must be a great actor. You let him lead you along, grabbing the room key from the front desk. The group of men entering the building after you did not go unnoticed. You grabbed ahold of Clint's tie, using it to pull his face close enough to yours that you could whisper without being hear. Close enough too that if you wanted, you could put your lips on his.

"They're staking out the lobby," you whispered. "I think we'll really have to stay here."

You made your way up to the room, footsteps following the two of you. As you reached for the door handle, you felt strong hands grab you and press you next to the door instead. Clint's body was pressed close to your own, making your breaths shallow and your body heat up.

"Clint-" You whispered.

"Do you trust me?" He said lowly so that only you could hear. You nodded. Before you knew it, you felt soft lips press to yours. You let your hands wander, making their way to his hair. You let yourself kiss him back, with a feverishness that nearly shocked you. He may have been your friend, but all your mind flooded with now was the need to be close to him. Feel his body pressed to yours, lips staying locked together.

You barely registered the sound of footsteps trailing to the other side of you, passing convinced that you were really there for the reason you claimed. Once they finally passed, Clint reached behind you, unlocking and opening the door without letting his lips leave your mouth. He didn't pull away until the door shut behind you both, hearing the latch click.

When he did pull away, both breathing hard, you felt as if your lips became cold. You wanted him back on you.

"Sorry," he muttered huskily, doing little to quell the heat in your body. "I thought that might get them off our backs a little." You nodded in response, taking into account the hotel room. There was a moderate-sized bathroom, a small closet and a dresser complete with TV on top. And, there was one queen bed facing it.

"You can take the bed." Said Clint. "I don't mind sleeping on the floor, as long at you let me have a pillow."

You rolled your eyes, pushing down the sexual tension you felt. Clearly he must not be feeling it too, as he switched back to humor quickly.

"Don't be silly. We're both adults, and it's hardly a crime to sleep in the same bed. It doesn't mean we have to do more than that."

Though your words didn't come across quite as you hoped, worried it sounded like there was an option of doing more than sleeping, Clint did take a seat on the bed. You did the same on the opposite side. After a moment of comfortable silence, Clint stood back up.

"Is it okay with you if I hop in the shower?"

You gave him a puzzled look, "am I okay if you practice good hygiene? Let me think." You pretended to think really hard, making him chuckle.

"Point made."

As you heard the water turn on, you laid back on the bed. Your mind began to wander again, full of both want and worry. After one evening, and one mission gone slightly awry, your usually tame thoughts about your partner were running wild. What had you gotten yourself into? Hearing the shower run, you couldn't stop yourself from imagining what could be on the other side of the wall. Your partner, your friend, taking off that beautiful suit to reveal what was underneath. The water running over his body, his muscles...

The water suddenly stopping jolted you from your thoughts. You tried to minimize the blush that was sure to be present on your face, grateful that he seemed to take his time drying off.

Opening the bathroom door, you stared as Clint walked out in just the suit's dress pants. Despite his best efforts to dry off, water droplets remained in his hair as they seemed to make him sparkle. Your eyes didn't remain at his hair, trailing lower to his exposed chest. The soft curves of his pecs, down to his abs, the beginning of a 'V' shape that dared you to follow it...

"So," he said. "We don't have luggage."

Shit, I hadn't even thought about that yet.

"As you know, I'm such a gentleman." He said playfully. "I don't want you to sleep in that dress, there's no way it would be comfortable." Your mind raced with a million thoughts of all the other options. "I propose you get my t-shirt from under the suit, and I sleep in the dress pants."

You nod at him, trying not to think about what he was suggesting. He wanted to sleep shirtless, and let you wear his clothes. Was it too late to tell him to sleep on the floor?

Not able to come up with a better option, you took the shirt he was offering and made your way to the bathroom to shower. Peeling the dress off your body, you decided to ignore the situation you were in and simply let yourself relax. Stepping into the warm water of the shower, you let it run down your head and shoulders. Closing your eyes to try and relax, it had the opposite effect.

Every time you shut your eyes, all you could think about was Clint. His hands, his lips, his body. How all three of those things would feel on you. To make matters worse, as you got more hot and bothered you pictured him even with your eyes open. Turning the water cooler, you hoped a cold shower would fix the problem.

It didn't.

Huffing, you washed your body and figured your thoughts weren't going away any time soon. The more you tried to stop them, the more they invaded your senses. As you scrubbed the soap across your body, you couldn't help but imagine someone else's hand.

Visions of Clint's hands running down your body played through your mind as your own hands trailed the same path. Ghosting lightly across your nipples, you bit your lip to stop the gasp in your throat. You imagined how his fingertips, calloused from years of notching arrows, would feel in place of your own.

Keeping one hand firmly at your breast, your other traveled lower and lower. A soft whimper escaped your throat before you could do anything to suppress it as your fingers made contact with your clit. Hearing nothing from the other side of the wall, you assumed Clint couldn't hear you over the sound of the shower water.

Your fingers continued circular motions at your entrance, feeling just how wet you had become. Soft moans fell from your lips, thinking the noise would be covered by the running water and bathroom fan that had been turned on to help ventilate humidity.

Besides, everyone knew hotel walls were never described as thin... right?

-Clint's POV-

He dropped to the bed with a deep sigh as soon as the door shut to the bathroom with you inside. He rubbed a hand over his face. What the Hell had he gotten himself into?

Sure, he had always found you rather attractive. And sure, that may have developed into something a bit deeper over the time he had gotten to know you. And maybe, he had been a little too excited when he heard about the details of the mission.

He thought he would be able to handle himself. Yet, here he was; grown man acting like a teenage boy unable to control his hormones and keep his hands to himself.

Listening to the shower water run, he tried to relax. Instead of remembering the way your hands grasped at his chest when he had kissed your neck. Not thinking about the way your lips moved against his in the hallway, how sweet they tasted. Pretending he didn't know what it was like to have your body pinned to his, having you whisper his name.

It had become the ghost of a mantra in is head. Your whisper from the hallway repeating again and again in his head.

Clint, Clint, Clint...

He couldn't help but imagine how else you could say his name. His mind bombarded him with a cacophony of sound. Could he make you moan his name? Scream it?

Feeling his dick twitch in his pants, he was playing a dangerous game. When you got out of the shower and exited the bathroom, he knew he couldn't be thinking this way. Just seeing you, twinkling with water droplets in your hair, his shirt adorning your body, would be enough to get him going again. He needed to calm back down.

He focused in to the sound of running water, trying to zone out. It had even begun to work. That was, until he heard it.

It was faint, and at first he thought it was his imagination again. But the noise persisted, to the point he stood and began slowly slinking towards the bathroom wall. As he got closer, there was no ignoring what he heard. You were moaning, and it was the most delectable sound he had ever heard. So much for calming down.

He staggered back to the bed, laying on his back and focusing in on your sounds instead of the water. There was no way to relax, that was sure. What could you be doing in there? He could only come up with one answer, and it drove him crazy. How he wanted to be with you, his hands feeling you up, his mouth capturing all of those beautiful noises.

Too soon for his liking, he heard the knob twist to and the water shut off. Adjusting himself in his pants, he hoped covering with the blanket would hide his arousal.

-Your POV-

You were frustrated, sexually and otherwise. Despite how you felt as if you were more turned on than you've ever been, you were left chasing your high. Realizing you had been in the shower for much too long, you had to get out. You didn't want Clint to worry and think something was wrong.

Getting out of the shower, you toweled off best you could. Pulling Clint's shirt over your head, you were glad you had worn nicer underwear under your dress that evening. His shirt may have laid big on you, but it still left the bottom halves of your butt cheeks exposed. You did the best you could to make yourself as presentable as possible.

With your best efforts, it still left the tops of your thighs and the gentle curve of your butt exposed. You had not needed to wear a bra with your earlier dress thanks to built-in cups, which you now regretted as your nipples lay pebbled under the t-shirt's material.

You crossed your arms in front of you as casually as you could as you twisted the doorknob and left the bathroom.

Thankfully, Clint had already laid in bed. He didn't turn to look at you which you were grateful for. You walked around the room preparing it for sleep, turning the AC to a comfortable temperature and making sure the door was secure.

Unbeknownst to you, Clint was following your every move as you turned around. He didn't know if he were lucky to get to see you, or unlucky as he was sure to picture you like this for the rest of his life. To be so close and not be with you was like torture. Your thighs teased him, t-shirt barely covering them and leaving your underwear-clad bottom within view. Your breasts were not constrained under the thin material, leaving little to his imagination as your nipples seemed to call to him. Everything about you looked to soft, and it took all of his self-restraint to stop himself from reaching out to touch you.

Laying beside Clint, you were oblivious to the show you had just put on for him. His breathing was strained, which you attributed to the uncomfortably close quarters. You were not touching, but the bed forced you close enough to feel the heat emanating from his body. You knew that snuggling close to him would be like heaven, his warmth and his strong arms engulfing you.

Closing your eyes, you were glad for the stress of the evening. That stress left your mind tired, able to ignore your arousal for just long enough to lull yourself to sleep.

Clint was not so lucky. He laid awake, dress pants uncomfortably tight against his lower half. Noticing your sleeping state, he made a decision he hoped he would not regret. Moving slowly as not to disturb you, he inched the uncomfortable garment off his legs. Left in just his boxers, he was only moderately more comfortable. His length still remained uncomfortably contained.

Clint did his best to ignore you beside him, but you were making that incredibly difficult. In your sleep you had turned away from him, but moved ever closer. There was nothing he could think to do, and before he could come up with an idea he felt the plush of your ass up against his bare thigh. Of course, this did nothing to help his situation.

He tried to think of anything else he could. A previous mission, perhaps with dangerous details to remember as a way to lesson his mood. No matter the nature of the old missions, his memories always ended the same. You, smiling up at him with sparkling eyes as you completed the objective.

Another noise pulled Clint from his thoughts. It came from your direction. He felt your leg twitch against him, and he realized you must be dreaming.

A noise came from you again, and Clint was intrigued. The sound was muffled, and he couldn't tell if it was positive or negative. He had a preference, sure, but you could have been having a nightmare for all he knew.

Feeling your hips press you backside further into his leg as you made another sound, this time clearly a small moan, it was clearly no nightmare.

Clint's body was tense. His cock felt as if it grew impossibly harder as a result of your movements. There was nothing he could do, waking you up would only reveal that he had removed his dress pants and make him look like a perv. Instead, he took in the moment as he knew he may never get to hear your noises again.

Soft moans and whimpers fell from your lips, hips grinding back towards his body. He wanted to reach out and touch you, but he restrained. At least, until he heard something that made him snap.

"Clint," you moaned with voice tantalizingly soft and sweet. He couldn't help the groan that escaped him in response. Last ounce of restraint now gone, he reached toward you. His hand found your hip, soft under his callouses. The two of you were practically spooning, and he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. His lips moved to kiss up your nape, and he relished in how your moans followed his actions.

Looking up at your face, he was startled to see your wide eyes meeting his. Your pupils were blown wide with lust.

"Please don't stop."

Your whisper only urged him further, allowing his hand to slip higher under your shirt, his shirt, to grab your breast. Your moans only continued to spur him on, grinding his bulge into your backside. It both offered relief, and made him want even more.

You felt his hands across your body, even better than you had imagined. You pushed your ass backwards into him, matching his motions and feeling just how hard he was.

His strong hands suddenly flipped you to your back, Clint hovering above you. His lips found yours feverishly. You kissed him back as if you were starved, taking as much as he would give you. Moan after moan fell from your lips to his as he pressed his hardness against your cunt.

"Can feel how fucking wet you are," he groaned. "You been thinking about me?"

You nodded in return, but that wasn't enough for Clint. He wanted to hear you.

"What was that sweetheart?"

"Fuck, Clint," you sighed. "You're all I could think about all night."

His pride, and other things, swelled. His mouth trailed down to your chest, tongue finding a nipple as he swirled his tongue around it. His motions were rough, but his pace was slow. He pulled away as an involuntary whimper left your throat.

You felt his lips trail downward, oh too slowly. He pressed soft kisses across your inner thighs, making you curl your hips towards him in hopes he would quell the burning in the pit of your stomach.

He yanked your panties down only to replace them with his warm mouth. The initial contact almost made your scream as his hot breath fanned across the slick that had gathered between your legs. Cockily, Clint looked up to catch your eyes. With a wink, he held high contact while licking a slow stripe up where you were most sensitive. You moaned loudly, throwing your head back as he began picking up the pace. Every flick of his tongue sent shivers down your spine and moans to fall from your lips. He ate at you greedily. It's as if he was a man starved, but that was of no complaint to you. You don't think there was any way he could touch you that would make you complain.

Heat continued pooling in your core, building with every motion Clint made. Even so, your orgasm caught you by surprise when he moved his hands to your breasts, lightly pinching your nipples with his tongue continuing to swirl around your clit.

"Fuck, oh fuck, oh Clint," you moaned as you came, thighs squeezing on his head and hands in his hair. If this is how he died, he would be a happy man. As you came down from your high, Clint slowed and pulled away. He crawled back up to face you, kissing you harshly. You could feel your own juices on his tongue and along his stubble.

"On your knees," he muttered. His look was dark, and you obeyed. As you kneeled, you looped your fingers around the waistband of his boxers to pull them down with you. He groaned, grabbing a fistful of your hair in his hand.

You couldn't keep your eyes off his cock as it sprung free. Precum glistened the tip.

Tentatively, you leaned forward to lick the underside. Clint's groan emboldened you, taking the head into your mouth and swirling your head across the tip. Clint bucked his hips into your mouth, guiding you with his hand on the back of your head yet careful not to push you too far. You fell into a rhythm, bobbing your head on his cock as he groaned. Moaning around his cock, you felt his legs tense and dick twitch as the vibrations rang through him.

"Look at me," he demanded. "Want to see your eyes while I fuck your pretty little mouth."

You did as he asked, not knowing Clint had those words in him.

"There you go," he said quietly, "good girl." The words made you moan again around his cock.

That's new, you thought.

"Gonna fucking ruin you." He pulled out of your mouth, leaving your mouth open following his action. "Love the way you suck my cock baby. Your mouth feels so fucking good honey but now you're gonna give me your dripping pussy, alright?"

He flipped you over to your stomach, grabbing your hips to pull them into the air. You arched your back for him, and he paused to take in the sight.

"Damn baby, you're fucking soaked for me." You shivered as a finger ran along your folds. You pushed your hips back towards the feeling, needing more. "You like this baby? Want me to touch you like this?"

"Want, more," you whimpered.

"What do you want?" He asked sensually, lazily pushing a finger in and out of your entrance. "Tell me what you want me to do baby."

"Want you to fuck me, Clint." You whined. "Please fuck me. Want to feel you so fucking far inside me." Something about the usually mild-mannered, sweet Clint talking so dirty to you had something waking in yourself as well.

He wasted no time at your words, lining up with your entrance and slowly pressing into you. Your gummy walls welcomed him, tight and warm and clenching as he eased in.

"Fuck," he mumbled, feeling how tight you were just halfway in. "You feel so fucking good around my cock baby. Almost there." Giving you time to adjust to his size, he waited until he felt you squirming to move further again.

Whimpering as you pressed back against him, your mind felt like exploding. His dick stretched you so deliciously. You knew what was about to happen would ruin you for any other man, not wanting to ever feel anything but the man you had now.

Clint's pace picked up, leaving you a mess underneath him. You could barely think straight, only able to focus on the sliding of his cock in and out of your squelching cunt. You were thankful for his hands gripping your hips, legs turning to jelly.

You murmured a string of something resembling words, unable to do much more than moan and enjoy what Clint was doing to him. Grunts fell from his mouth, beautiful sounds as they layered with the wet slapping sounds echoing throughout the room.

"Take my cock so well," he grunted. Suddenly pulling out, you whimpered at the rapid lack of contact. Before you could react more, he flipped you over and pressed back in. Filling you up again made you scream at the overwhelming pleasure. "Who knew he had this in him? "Want to see your pretty face when I cum inside your pussy, hm?"

Just the thought made your head fall back with another moan as he continued to fuck you. Your breasts bounced with each thrust, mesmerizing to Clint unable to take his eyes off of you.

" 'M so close baby," he groaned. You wrapped your legs around his torso, pulling him close and looking up into his eyes.

That was the last push he needed, thrusts faltering as his seed shot into you. His grunts turned to moans, needy as he continued to thrust deep into you as he came. Staying inside, he leaned down to kiss you deeply.

"Fuck," he whispered, resting his forehead against your own.

"Yea," you replied breathlessly. He pulled back, dazed smile matching your own.

After cleaning you both up, he laid back in bed to allow you to snuggle close to him.

"I think that's the most I've heard you swear," you giggled, "maybe ever."

He chuckled in response, squeezing him closer to you.

"It's not my fault you feel so fucking good then."

Drifting off to sleep again, you wouldn't think about how the mission debrief would go until morning. After all, you're sure this is far from the last time you and Clint would end up like this.

[prophecieds]

wanted plots based on stories from greek mythology.

psyche and eros. muse a, despite their beauty and alluring presence seen and felt by everyone who meets them, has never been in a relationship before. it was adorable when they were young, but now that they’re in their mid - twenties, it’s becoming sort of pathetic. so muse a decides to join a popular dating app. they match with muse b, a mysterious user who doesn’t even have any recognizable pictures on their profile, but they immediately develop a connection despite muse b refusing to reveal their identity. little does muse a know, muse b is a tech billionaire and the founder of the app itself, but has sworn off public attention and romantic vulnerability. drawn to muse a’s sincerity, muse b breaks their own rules and begins a secret relationship with muse a—on the condition that they never try to find out who muse b really is.

helen and paris. muse is married to a powerful senator—polished, admired, and constantly in the public eye. they’re seen as the perfect political spouse. but behind closed doors, their life is scripted, controlled, and painfully hollow. then comes muse b—a young, charming foreign diplomat’s son / daughter visiting from abroad. muse b offers muse a something no one else has: escape. what begins as a fleeting connection at a political gala becomes an affair that ignites international scandal when muse a vanishes with muse b without a word.

andromeda and perseus. muse a is from a high - profile political family. when a photo of them is leaked in connection to a crime they didn’t commit, the media turns them into a scapegoat—framing them as reckless, spoiled, and dangerous. to protect their reputation, muse a’s family cuts them off, leaving them to take the fall alone. enter muse b, an investigative journalist. while chasing a story on corruption and cover - ups, they stumble across muse a’s case and suspects there’s more beneath the headlines. against warnings from their editors and threats from powerful people, muse b digs deeper and helps muse a disappear from the public eye.

persephone and hades. muse a is an aspiring artist, open - minded and warm, constantly seeking new experiences. muse b is a once celebrated artist, but their life was shattered by a public scandal that forced them into seclusion. they now run an underground art gallery, where muse a has decided to work at. the two form an unlikely bond over art, and their attraction becomes undeniable. muse a is drawn to the complexity of muse b’s world, and muse b is captivated by the light muse a brings into their darkness. but as their connection deepens, muse a begins to question if they can ever truly leave the shadows of muse b’s world behind, and muse b must confront their own demons before they can fully accept the love that muse a offers.

aphrodite and hephaestus. muse a is a genius mechanic and inventor, the quiet, unassuming mastermind behind some of the most groundbreaking technologies in the world. muse b is the epitome of glamour, beauty, and social power. a supermodel adored by millions. the two met years ago, before the fame and the glamour. back then, they were everything to each other—muse b was muse a’s muse, their reason to live, and muse a was muse b’s sanctuary. their love was simple and deep, until muse b’s growing fame tore them apart. but years later, when their paths cross once again, the unresolved love between them burns fiercely, hotter than ever. muse a is still broken, still scarred by the betrayal. muse b, too, is now just as damaged—their perfect life a mask for the regret and guilt they carry for leaving muse a behind. yet neither can deny the connection and chemistry that’s always existed between them. muse a wants to believe in muse b again, but they can’t forget how muse b abandoned them. muse b wants nothing more than to show muse a they’ve changed, but they don’t know if muse a will ever trust them again.

[lucillewalterblack]

In Greeting and Introduction:

In 1986, Pleasant Company unleashed the American Girls upon the world, and nothing has ever been the same. If you’re between the ages of 25 and 40 (sorry, Gen Z, but this is really a millennial phenomenon) and were at any point in your childhood aligned or identified as a ‘girl’, you probably have memories of decadently arranged extra-wide catalogues coming in the mail, or slim box sets of six books with names like Samantha Learns a Lesson or Changes for Kirsten, or visits to a toy store that was more like a luxury hotel, or – if you were especially lucky – unwrapping a long and heavy box on your birthday or on Christmas to reveal a much-anticipated new best friend. Even if you weren’t subjected to the rigors of late-twentieth-century girlhood, you probably knew something about this brand thanks to the way it took hold in the hearts and minds of an entire generation of – ha! – American girls who went to school with other American children and often brought dolls and books and catalogues and trip reports back with them.

So, what exactly was this brand?

1986 is a fascinating year in pop culture, and one I’ve been personally fixated on for over a decade. It’s the year of the (first) death of Optimus Prime in The Transformers: The Movie, the year of Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, the year of Phantom of the Opera’s spectacular West End debut, the year of Labyrinth, the year of Hellraiser. If you outgrew American Girl and trended toward the weird and darkly gothic, this is a year you’re intimately familiar with, whether you know it or not. Fitting, then, that it’s the year the dolls were born.

The story goes that educator Pleasant Rowland, in the process of attempting to buy dolls for her family, found herself frustrated by a perceived gap in the market. While baby dolls served as proxies for burgeoning parental instinct, and fashion dolls served as more mature aspirational figures (or, in many cases, adult stars of complicated child-crafted soap operas), there were no dolls that girls could look upon as peers. I find myself skeptical of this claim, largely because mythical doll origins are often hilariously selective and inaccurate – for one thing, Barbie was not even close to the first adolescent/adult fashion doll for little girls – but it is consistently cited as one of the concerns in developing the line. With that frustration to chew on, and inspired by a visit to Colonial Williamsburg (a living history museum focused on life in America in the immediate years preceding the Revolutionary War), Rowland developed the concept of the American Girls. These would be eighteen-inch cloth and vinyl dolls portraying distinct historical figures living in different eras of American history, each with their own name and family and backstory. She worked with author Valerie Tripp to develop the identities of each girl, and then launched the brand under her new company, Pleasant Company (which is such a clever idea for an instantly recognizable corporation) with three dolls ready to go.

Now, there are American Girl stores in multiple malls, and when I was a little girl there were near-mythical American Girl Places in Chicago and New York and I think somewhere in California, but when Rowland began her business model was entirely by mail with no brick-and-mortar location to visit. Little girls and their families became aware of the existence of these dolls and their stories when catalogues that quickly became iconic arrived in the mail once every few months, and despite the high prices of everything from the dolls themselves to the books telling their stories, they bought up everything Pleasant Company had to sell. Rowland had a bona fide hit on her hands.

She had launched the brand with three characters – Kirsten Larson, a Swedish immigrant and pioneer living in the Minnesota Territory in 1854, Samantha Parkington, an Edwardian girl from a rich family living in New York in 1904, and Molly McIntyre, a Scottish-descended girl from a solidly middle-class family living in Jefferson, Illinois in 1944. Each doll, when ordered, came with a book bearing their name, and there were two additional books available for purchase alongside the collections of themed accessories and furniture. This number quickly expanded to six, all bearing similar names and reflecting similar themes across multiple decades. In 1991, a fourth historical character joined the lineup – this was Felicity Merriman, a gentleman’s daughter from 1774 Williamsburg. After her was Addy Walker, introduced in 1993, a fugitive slave who escaped to Philadelphia with her mother and lived there in 1864. Next in 1997 came Josefina Montoya, a rancher’s daughter living near Santa Fe, New Mexico in 1824 with her father, sisters, and extended family. In 2000, Kit Kittredge of 1933’s Cincinnati, Ohio joined the lineup. And lastly, at least for this analysis of my own history with the brand, in 2002 we have my dearly beloved Kaya’aton’my of the Nez Perce, living with her tribe in pre-contact years in 1764.

There are other American Girls. Mattel bought out Pleasant Company and has slowly been hollowing out the brand’s credibility, but it persists. Other historical dolls have been introduced, and many of them sound just as brilliant as the ones I grew up with. But those eight, those “original” eight, were my American Girls, and it’s their stories I want to examine, and their impacts upon my life that are still felt. Kit’s resourcefulness and adaptability when her father lost her job helped me when I was twelve and my father lost his job, Felicity’s determination to find the right balance between gender nonconformity and gender conformity inspired me to never settle for being forced into a box I didn’t fit, Samantha’s fierce loyalty to her friend Nellie was a balm to my prepubescent closeted lesbianism, and Kaya’s connection to her tribe and their traditions and culture gave me something to cling to in the midst of my rootless, forcibly assimilated indigenous childhood. (Yes, I’m indigenous, no, I’m not really going to be making my writing and blogging about an #ownvoices kind of thing, because we should get to be nerds and have the same access to privacy that white people have, but it’s relevant here and it’s relevant in my original fiction because it’s part of me.)

Of course, growing up and getting an education means looking at your past again with a wiser, more critical eye. Historical education has changed a lot since 2002, and has changed even more since 1986. The stories of the American Girls are both narrative and informative, intended to capture realistic-feeling moments in time that are grounded in real historical events and practices. How do they hold up to the standards of 2024, nearly two decades since I grew into Brontë and McCaffrey and Hugo and Dumas and Homer? How do they feel to me as an actively reconnecting indigenous lesbian whose perspective on America is very different now than when I was a child and my family tried hard to pretend we fit in? Are their books and wider stories even any good?

These are the questions I’m seeking to answer in this series of blogs, which I’ll be calling The American Girls and Me. Each fortnight (that’s every two weeks) I’ll examine a different girl, starting with her main books and going forward from there. The first series of book blogs will be published simultaneously here and on my Patreon page, completely free to read and open to the public. After that, Patreon will get things a week before they’re published here, but I’m not looking to make a serious income, so if you pay me the exorbitant price of $1 you will get to see things whenever they’re posted or you can wait for seven days to catch up. There will be some Patreon-exclusive bonus content once every couple of months, though, plus when I start publishing my original fiction it will be there alongside here, so if that sounds interesting maybe consider giving me a click?

My cutoff year is 2005 – that was the last year I asked for and received an American Girl doll as a present from my grandmother, and that was the symbolic end of the American Girl era of my life. I may take a look at the two American Girl movies that came out in 2006 and 2008 and adapted the stories of Molly and Kit respectively, but I didn’t go to great lengths to watch either of them. I was too busy rewatching The Curse of the Black Pearl and Van Helsing and The Revenge of the Sith to care about people who were now three and four years younger than me, and my own visions of both girls’ lives were too precious to me to risk a bad or disappointing adaptation.

Okay, then, what exactly will I be covering?

Like I said above, I’ll start with the stories. All eight girls, all six books + their “Looking Back/A Peek Into the Past” chapters. I’ll talk about my childhood impressions, my connections with different narratives, how those have changed now that I’m in my thirties, and places where I think the books have aged particularly poorly or particularly well.

After that, we’ll look at their short stories pre-2005, and see what those add to or detract from the canon of core story beats. These were in some cases published over a decade after the books finished up, and the tonal or thematic differences should be interesting to note.

Once the fiction is finished up we’ll look at each doll. I’ll talk about my experiences with the ones I personally own, and examine their accessories and artifacts in-person, and if it’s a doll I don’t own we’ll be looking at the catalogues from 1998-2002, which can safely be considered something of a golden age for the brand. That’s how I experienced several of the dolls, and therefore that’s what I’ll be revisiting

Next, I’ll be taking a look at nonfiction books – each of the original eight girls got a Welcome to [Name]’s World book issued for their era in American history, taking the nonfiction historical context chapters and fleshing them out to give more detail and explain more about how the lives of our girls fit into the story of the country as a whole. These are apparently extremely high-quality for children’s history books, and while I never had them as a child I definitely want them now.

Finally, having finished up books entirely, we move on to crafts and ephemera. Each girl got a paper doll set, and most of them also received a craft book and cook book. There were theater kits for pretend play as well, but I’ll be excluding those for purely practical reasons – they’re often the hardest to find, and I was never interested in that kind of pretend play with these girls.

This will be a long, involved, organized blogging project unlike anything I’ve ever really done before, but I think it will be a rewarding one. These girls are like my sisters, even those with wildly different life experiences than my own. They were a fundamental part of my childhood. They deserve to be remembered and discussed, and this era in my life deserves to be loved.

After all, I, too, was once an American girl.

[s10127470]

The Evolution of the Ninja Turtles' Designs

As I'm sure many of you know by now, this year marks the 40th anniversary of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

What initially started off as an intended one-off parody of the dark and gritty comics of the early to the mid 1980s (particularly the works of Frank Miller like Ronin and especially Daredevil) would grow to become one of the most successful media franchises in history.

The one-off quickly became a full-on series, running for a total of 30 years from 1984 to 2014.

It also led to the creators of the Turtles, Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird, to start their own comic publishing company, Mirage.

And apart from that, this franchise has seen multiple of other comic runs from the likes of Image, Archie and IDW.

Four animated series (with a fifth one coming out this summer).

Ten feature-length films (7 being released in theaters, while 3 were released direct-to-DVD).

A live-action TV show that nobody likes to talk about....

And a boatload of video games, toys, food products, and just about any other kind of merchandising you can think of!

And it's honestly impressive just how consistently popular the TMNT brand has reminded over the four decades they've existed in pop culture.

Even more so is how much of a spotless track record they've had when it comes to the quality of their products.

Okay a mostly spotless track record....

But today I'm here to talk about one of the coolest things to notice when looking at this franchise. And that's the visual evolution of the Turtles.

I'm gonna be looking at the designs of the Turtles from the original Mirage comics and the animated outputs of the franchise to see just how much the Turtles have visually changed.

Starting this off we have the Turtles from the Mirage comics, the 1987 cartoon, the 2003 cartoon and the 2007 film.

The reason I decided to lump these four iterations together is because they all share something in common....

What that's you may ask?

Well, a while back, I watched a video by YouTuber Just Stop called "Death by Nicktoon", where he looked at the many Nicktoons that were unfairly snubbed and sent to the Nicktoons channel to die a slow and painful death.

And one of those Nicktoons was one of the next TMNT series I'll be talking about pretty shortly.

When talking about that series, Just Stop mentioned the Silhouette Test.

As I'm sure many of know by now, the Silhouette Test is major component when it comes to character designing.

Essentially the saying goes that you know a character has a good design if their silhouette is easily recognizable.

And Turtles do pass this test.....but only as a group.

Because individually, these versions would all fail that in an instant.

And that's the thing they all have in common.

Within the pieces of media each of these groups come from, all they look exactly the same.

Out of all of them, the Mirage Turtles have this issue the worst.

During the early years of the comics, the Turtles basically acted damn-near identical to each other.

And if you were trying to find another way to differentiate them from each other, I don't know what to tell you.

As I mentioned earlier, these Turtles look exactly the same and the fact that they were in black and white for a good chunk of the comics didn't help matters either.

But when they were in color, the Turtles were all depicted wearing red masks.

Really, the only way you could actually tell which Turtles is which is by their respective weapons.

Leonardo wields the dual katanas.

Raphael wields the twin sais.

Donatello wields the bō staff.

And Michelangelo wields the dual nunchucks.

But when the 87 cartoon rolled around, the crew behind that show knew the Turtles needed some retooling in order for a wider audience to get into the brand.

Thus, they did two things that have become staples in the Turtles franchise since then.

They gave each of the Turtles their own distant personalities. Leonardo was the calm, brave and strategic leader, Donatello was the tinkering, inventing genius, Raphael was the cynical and wisecracking smartass with a slightly bad attitude, and Michelangelo was the fun-loving, Cowbunga-shouting goofball.

They gave each of the Turtles different colored masks. With the expectation of Raphael (who was still rocking the red look), Leonardo got a blue mask, Donatello got a purple mask, and Michelangelo got a orange mask.

And although their visually more distinct when compared to the Mirage Turtles, they still suffer from the same problem where physically, they look exactly the same.

Plus the fact that a lot of promotion and merchandising for this show often depict the Turtles as having the same expressions didn’t help either.

However, there was another visual element added to the Turtles' designs.

They gave each of the turtles belts with buckles that had the initials of their respective names.

But if you had put these Turtles in black and white and took away their weapons and belts, you most likely wouldn't be able to tell who was who.

The same can be applied to the 2007 Turtles as well....minus the belts since they don't have those.

But in the case of the 2003 Turtles, this is where things get interesting....

These Turtles do share the same issues as the three other iterations listed above, being that they look exactly the same to each other, minus the colored bandanas and trademark weapons (which I'm still surprised they carried over from the 1987 cartoon given that Turtles co-creator Peter Laird, who was heavily involved in the 2003 cartoon, is kind of infamous for having a bit of a hate-boner towards that series).

However, there is another visual element to these Turtles that would help differentiate them from each other.

This would mark the very first time in the franchise's history where the Turtles were given different skin colors....or more appropriately, shades, as each of Turtles' skins were a different shade of green.

Leonardo was forest green.

Michelangelo was blue green.

Donatello was olive green.

And Raphael was emerald green.

But with that being said, if you put these Turtles in black and white just like the others iterations above and took away their respective weapons, it would be the same output as before.....

Or maybe not....

You see, for the last two seasons of the show: Fast Forward and Back to the Sewers, the entire cast received major redesigns, and this led to two notable changes with the Turtles.

Their eyes. In the first five seasons, the Turtles' eyes were depicted as being fully white when they had their masks on. And when they were off, their eyes were just simple black. But in these last two seasons, the Turtles' eyes were now colored and were made visible through the masks. The Turtles all had green eyes....except for Donatello, whose eyes were brown for some reason.

Their heights. In the first five seasons, the Turtles all stood at about the same height, that being 5'2. But in the last two seasons, they were each given different heights. Michelangelo was the shortest at 5'4, Leonardo was the second shortest at 5'5, Donatello was the second tallest at 5'6, and Raphael was the tallest at 5'7.

Next we come to the Turtles from the 2012 series, and this is where everything changed....

For the very first time in the franchise's history, the Turtles were each given unique and distinct looks from each other.

No longer did they look like the same character copy-pasted three times, each of Turtles actually looked different!

If you saw these guys in black and white and took away their weapons, you could definitely tell who was who!

Some of the visual elements of the previous cartoons were carried over such as the colored masks (which have becomes staples of the franchise since the 1987 cartoon), having their skin colors being a different shade of green, having colored eyes and standing at different heights.

But what really sets these versions apart from the others is the fact that each Turtle has a different physical build!

Leonardo is the most well-rounded when it comes to physical builds, he has fern green skin, cobalt blue eyes, and is the second tallest of the Turtles at 5'1.

Raphael is slightly more bulkier and has more defined muscles than the rest of his brothers, has dark green skin, emerald green eyes, a crack on the right side of his shell, and is the second shortest of the Turtles at 5'0.

Donatello has a lean and gangly-like build, brownish green skin, reddish brown eyes, has a gap in the middle of his teeth, and is the tallest of the Turtles at 5'6.

And Michaelangelo has a more stout and pudgy build, light green skin, baby blue eyes, freckles on his face, and is the shortest of the Turtles at 4'10.

Now come to the Turtles from Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles....

Out of all the iterations of the Turtles before and since, these guys are by far the most visually distinct of them all!

It honestly feels like the crew looked at the designs of the 2012 Turtles and said, "Hey! Let's do what they did.....but even better!"

Marking yet another first for this franchise, this would mark the first time the Turtles were all different specific species of Turtles rather than being the same unspecified species for the umpteenth time.

And them being different species are greatly reflected in their designs.

Also, according to several artists on the show, each of the Turtles were designed around a shape, and the use of the shapes also reflected their respective personalities.

Raphael is an alligator snapping turtle, which is why is he's an absolute unit in this series, with a hulking and muscular build to match! This Raphael is the second biggest and tallest he's been in this franchise, standing at a whooping 6'0! And since he's an alligator snapping turtle, Raphael also has jagged and fractured points on his elbow, knees and shell. His choice of species reflect three major aspects of his character.....

His status as the brawler/muscle of the team.

In this iteration, HE'S the leader of the team.

He's the oldest of the Turtles. Oh yeah, marking yet another first for this franchise, this would mark the first time that the Turtles were all made different ages rather than being quadruplets like every other iteration. As previously mentioned, Raphael is eldest of his brothers at 15.

Raphael was designed around squares, to reflect his offensive and defensive fighting style.

His mask, in contrast to half of his brothers, is depicted as more of a bandana (or a possibly a durag). Plus it has the longest tails out of the group, reflecting his status as the oldest brother.

He also wears red bands on his elbows and his thighs, a red belt with his Turtle Emblem off to the right side, and his bandages on a few parts of his body and specifically around his ankles and hands, reflecting his prowess as a fighter and that he's the Turtle most dedicated to training.

Raphael also has bright green skin and a sharp tooth sticking out of the right side of his mouth.

Leonardo is a red-eared slider, which is why he has those markings all over his body and shell and the red markings over his eyes. His choice of species would also reflect his future status as the leader of the Turtles, since red-eared sliders are the most well-known species of turtles. He also has a lean and athletic build, reflecting his status as the team's resident speed fighter.

Leonardo was designed around triangles, to reflect his witty and sharp nature.

The marks on his body are also triangular as well.

Leonardo also has lime green skin and wears blueish grey fingerless gloves and toeless footwear, a blue belt with a strap that overs his right shoulder, a set of pouches, and he has his Turtle Emblem on the left, and is the second tallest turtle at 5'5 (the same height as his 2003 iteration).

Donatello is a Asian softshell, which plays a big part in his personality. Out of all the iterations of Donatello, this one is far more aggressive than most of his prior iterations, even the Mirage version! I mean bro, this Donatello is practically a psychopathic scientist. This is because Asian softshells are known for being incredibly aggressive and one of the few species of turtles that are carnivorous.

As for his physical build, it's quite similar to Leonardo, which is possibly because of the fact they're twins, both being 14 years old.

Though Donatello's is even more leaner and thinner than Leonardo's, giving him a build akin to a swimmer. That's because Asian softshells are known for being some of the couple of turtles that live on land that are semi-aquatic.

Another similarity Leonardo and Donatello share are their mask tail lengths.....well, sort of....

The length of Leonardo's mask tails is squarely in the middle, reflecting his status as the middle child.

Donatello's however are little harder to tell.....

At first glance they appear to be quite short. However, when looking closely, you can see that the tails look folded. So there's a strong chance that his mask tails are both as long as Leonardo's, since they're twins.

(Also, it's fashioned in a similar way to Raphael.)

Donatello was designed around rectangles, to reflect his more practical and blunt nature and his technological prowess.

He also has purple, rectangular markings on his body as well.

Donatello wears purple fingerless gloves and toeless footwear, a silver tech-gauntlet on his left wrist with a blue touchscreen, purple knee and elbow pads, a purple belt with matching pouches, and the Turtle emblem placed on the center. He also has jade green skin and stands at 5'3.

But the most notable aspect of Donatello's design is his mechanical shell.

This not only reflects his technological prowess, but also reflects an aspect of his species and his character.

Asian softshells are known for their shells being on the weaker side when compared to other turtles species. It's in the name. So Donatello wears one for obvious reasons.

It reflects his inferiority complex. Throughout this series, it's shown that he heavily relies on technology due to him feeling inferior to his brothers. That was sort of already from the beginning given that he majorly lacks the same natural protection they do, but thanks to them getting mystical powers, that was made even worse.

Michelangelo is a ornate box turtle, which is why he's the smallest and shortest of the Turtles, standing at 4'7 (being the shortest any of the Turtle iterations have ever been). Him being a box turtle also reflects a major part of his personality, that being his friendly and kind personality, as box turtles are known for being one of the friendliest and gentle species of turtles.

Michelangelo was designed around circles, to reflect his bouncy and kinetic nature.

He also has orange spots on his body and orange markings on his shell, which also serve as an another nod to his species.

Michelangelo also has blue green skin and wears orange wristbands and toeless footwear, and orange knee pads with red faces on them (a dead face on the right and a smiley face on the left), and a dark orange chest harness over his left shoulder with the Turtle emblem placed over his heart.

He also wears a pair of magenta and cyan stickers on his plastron (a triangle and a lightning bolt), to reflect his artistic nature.

Michelangelo also has the shortest mask tails of his brothers, to reflect his status as the youngest.

Finally we come to latest incarnation of the Turtles, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem....

Although they're not nearly as visually unique as their previous iteration, they still do a good job at making each of the other visual distinct from each other.

One thing to note is that the just like the 1987 Turtles, they all have initialed buckles again.

Leonardo has a well-rounded build like his 2012 iteration with French lime green skin, has shurikens on his belt, and is the second tallest of his brothers at 5'5

Donatello has a leaner build similar to his 2012 iteration with bitter lime green skin, wears glasses, headphones, and a fanny pack, carries a phone on his belt, and is the second shortest at 5'4.

Raphael is the biggest and bulkiest of his brothers with bright green skin, has his mask fashioned in a bandana-like style akin to Rise Raphael, has a pouch on his belt, and is the tallest at 5'7.

Michelangelo is the skinniest with sea green skin, wears braces and is the shortest at 5'1.

Well that's all for now folks!

The reason I wanted to do this (apart from wanting to do something for the Heroes in a Half-Shell's Big 40), was because although I've seen people talk about the looks of the various iterations of the Turtles before, but only in the sense of that specific iteration.

So I thought I would be interesting to instead do a timeline of their visual appearances to show just how much they've changed over the decades.

Anyway, I'm gonna go to bed.....

Peace.

[aziraphales-library]

hello lovely people!

i was wondering if there were any historical fics that specifically look at queer history? it could be just aziraphale or just crowley, them together or not together. it could be as far back as sappho and as recent as legalisation of gay marriage.

thank you!

Hi! We have #queer history, #pride parade, and #queer guardian angel aziraphale tags on which you will find fics of interest. Here are more to add to the queer history collection...

An Angel and a Demon Walk Into a Bar- and there is No Punchline Because this is the 80s and Everyone is Sad, Gay and Repressed by DontOffendTheBees (M)

“So you’re not here to dance.” Crowley ducks his head, his long and impressively voluminous hair tumbling about his face as he nudges his aviators down his nose, peering at Aziraphale with those cunning yellow eyes over the top of them. He smirks like the wily old serpent he is, savouring the next words he speaks. “Now, what else could possibly lure a confirmed bachelor such as yourself to an establishment like this?” In which Aziraphale gravitates to the comfort of a queer space, and winds up in need of further comforting.

and at least in this lifetime (we're sticking together) by vivelegalite (T)

[GOD, NARRATING] People tend to be torn as to which side could be credited with legalisation of gay marriage across all of the United States of America. Most people consider it an act of Good, which it is of course, and attribute it to Heaven. Some, a much less pleasant lot, argue it to be the work of Hell. They tend to back their claims up with improperly translated lines from a book the Almighty had never actually written or even really bothered to read through — I tend to outsource that kind of work — and speak of God’s will and whatnot. Both groups are, however, mistaken. The legalisation of gay marriage across all of the United States of America was brought about not by Heaven, not by Hell, but by a tragically smitten demon with a rather high alcohol concentration and a plan.

Eziraphael's Gifts: A History of Queer Faith and Longing, by Natasha Marie Johnson (Beacon Press, 2019). by actualbat (G)

"If Eziraphael has come to be known--in today's language--as the 'guardian angel of sad queers,' then it makes sense for him to have shown up more regularly in the past once that became a recognizable historical category." Natasha is really glad that she's given this talk enough times to be able to do it on autopilot, because those two funny-looking men in the back just made the most absurdly astonished faces. (Or: Not all historians ignore gay subtext, and not all immortal celestial beings have their shit together. Also, voodoo.)

it's the light (it's the obstacle that casts it) by bibliocratic (T)

It's like having a curtain pulled back on something he wasn't expecting to see. A surprise punch-and-judy at an up-scale restaurant, a lobster thermidor when he's ordered an ale. Crowley's gleefully trying to wrap his head around the fact that Aziraphale is speaking Polari. Because of course he is. Or: The Patron Saint of London's LGBT Community is real, and he lives in Soho.

Under the Blazing Sun, Thy Footsteps Track by Elfgrandfather (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley keep finding themselves mixed up with a rather queer lot, and eventually have to contend with what it might mean, both about their own identities and their relationship to each other.

Surpassing All the Stars by KannaOphelia (M)

There was a faint tracing of scales along the woman's cheekbones, tracing down her thin arms and lean thighs. The nipples on her pale, almost flat breasts were dark as night. Fiery red curls fell over dagger-sharp shoulders sprayed gently with more black scales, and the golden eyes were wide and snake-like. The woman was beautiful, but hardly human. "Crawly," the woman said with disgust. "Was that the best you could do, angel?" "I said I didn't have much imagination." Aziraphale's lips were heavy, and she was almost sure she wasn't forming the words properly. There was some kind of spell over her, holding her almost immobile. The venom must have been paralytic. If she had been human, she supposed she would have been dead. Her corporation didn't like it much either. "What name would you prefer I use for you?" The stranger tipped her head on one side, considering. "Crowley?" Aziraphale almost laughed. The whole situation was simply too irritating. If she was to die now, at the hands of some local deity, the paperwork hardly bore thinking about. And her precious work on Sappho's poetry, gone. "Crowley, then. You're a nymph of some kind, I take it?"

- Mod D

[metautske]

Henna

Okay Bones, listen. No permanent additions to vigilantes because identity okay, I get it, I get it. BUT

Those temporary tattoos? HENNA

This started with DCxDP so it'll stay that way but it's rather open to whatever. But Danny practicing some non destructive creativity (not cannibalizing the fridge and microwave again) and Dick letting himself be a (temporary) canvas.

And so long as nothing about Dick is actually recognizable in the picture, well, it's just a picture of henna or fake water transfer tattoos, right? Nobody in the public space should be able to recognize Dick's back dimples or the specific pattern of freckles he has on his upper back. Or be able to connect any of that to Nightwing either.

But his family do.

So Dick is just vibing, enjoying whatever relationship he has with Danny (Maybe they're dating, maybe they're close friends, doesn't really matter. They trust each other and everything else is whatever) and somehow Bruce sees Dick with tattoos.

Nobody tells him. The others actually read the whole post (instagram or tiktok or something I dunno) and are, interested. Maybe they never wanted an actual tattoo, but the thought has surely crossed their minds? Right?

So the next time they have family dinner, they just so happen (on purpose this whole family can't ever do something 'accidentally') to show off their new 'tattoos' to Bruce.

They all know they can't have permanent things, but fucking with Bruce is universal and they all agree on that.

(I imagine at first that most of them just get the fake water tattoos from the store but after Dick is in on it fully they all get Danny to make custom transferables and henna designs for them)

And Dick lets Danny henna his hands during the winter when he can wear gloves because at home? Without gloves on? It really reminds him of Haley's Circus and the first time his mom let him get his hands and arms dyed.

Not sure where they got their pictures but some of them are absolute gorgeous and show the colors available are more than just black/brown!!!

Some examples of color and placement that would be easy to hide (ie: not on the hands, face or neck) it also looks like it depends on where you get it and who does it, as to how vibrant the colors can be. I saw some pictures that seemed very red saturated but I'm not sure if that was color corrected or not? But red henna is beautiful so I'm giving Danny the ability to make really red reds :)

THE RED (Mohd Shahrol Othman / EyeEm//Getty Images)

@stealingyourbones

[goshdangronpa]

I remain confused as to why there isn't yet a youth subculture themed to clowns.

This isn't me claiming that people aren't interested in clowns. I've seen yall here on Tumblr, I know plenty of you reeeally like clowns. What I'm asking is, why haven't yall banded together offline?

I'm talking about a subculture akin to goths or hippies or hipsters. People who adopt clown-related signifiers as part of their style, like neon-dyed hair, colorful outfits (perhaps intentionally mismatched), distinctive make-up for all genders, wardrobes of overalls and striped/spotted garb. A community based around these signifiers, which make members easily recognizable to each other and to outsiders.

The ideology of this hypothetical subculture? Perhaps being funny is especially valuable - "committing to the bit," in the online parlance. Maybe the overall view of life is a positive brand of nihilism: nothing matters, it's all a joke, so you might as well laugh and roll with it. Recent screen portrayals of DC's Joker and Harley Quinn (which have intriguingly proven to be enduring Halloween costumes), the much-memed Pagliacci gag from Watchmen, and the rewarding of class clown behavior on social media may all point this way.

And this could obviously be big for LGBTQIA+ people. We've demanded to be taken seriously, of course, to not be viewed as attention-seekers or cross-dressers. But gender expression and sexual exploration can be fun as well, and I don't think I'm making too many assumptions in believing that many of you online clown fans are queer. Finding others who share your subculture often goes hand in hand with meeting queer people, learning of new identities, and even experimenting with them yourself. No reason to think this would be any different.

There's something in the air. The Amazing Digital Circus made an unprecedented leap from YouTube to Netflix, Joker 2019 grossed a billion dollars and won the Best Actor Oscar among many other surprising accolades, hair dye is increasingly normal (thanks in large part to the tireless commitment of multiple subcultures), and for the first time in my life I'm more likely to see people (at least online) say they like clowns than they hate and fear them. Cultural currents that could easily coalesce into ... a market, if you want to be cynical, but also a movement.

I probably won't do much to foster this subculture, beyond accepting it as part of the social fabric. Despite what this little manifesto may suggest, I don't have that much interest or personal investment in clowns and circus aesthetics ... which is funny (funny!), because I was called a clown just last night. My recent bright pink dye job was, perhaps, an unfortunate choice for a large curly afro. It brought back to mind some musings from a while ago on a hypothetical youth culture where reminding people of clowns is much more intentional. Maybe people in that culture would've made me feel a little more cool, ya know?

Anyway, I'm not doing it because it's not really my thing. My question is, why aren't YOU? Dress out! Dye that curly hair! Come up with slang that makes people over 30 fume! Inspire NYT thinkpieces handwringing about the end of civilization! Make carnival music that sounds cool! I dunno, have fun! Be the silly little guy you (and evidently, I) want to see in the world!

[bluegekk0]

I love how your fpkAU designs are a lot more animal-like than bug-like! I’m curious, was this done intentionally to help separate it from the actual game’s designs and lore better or was it just something that naturally evolved over time with your art style?

It's a bit of both, a bunch of different reasons, actually.

I always wanted my designs to deviate a bit, not because I have an issue with the canon looks (quite the opposite, I adore the style and character design of the game, it's one of the reasons I got so invested). But I thought, since this is an AU, my own little playground, I wanted the designs to have some of my own personal touch. It was more subtle at the beginning, but over time I shaped them more and more around the ideas I enjoy, which I think gave them a lot of their own identity while still being recognizable as the characters. Some people may not like that, but it allowed me to form a much closer emotional connection to the characters, which in turn keeps giving me more motivation to work on the AU.

Secondly, I wanted the characters to be more expressive. It's something I always struggled with my art before getting invested in the AU, I had trouble portraying emotions in a way that is more exaggerated but accurate and recognizable. As much as I like bugs, they are not the most expressive bunch of critters, so for the main cast (which is my biggest focus for these emotional pieces), I took them in a more mammalian direction. They're the animals people most often assign human emotions to, they notice things in their eyes or expressions that they wouldn't in others. Big expressive eyes, fleshy lips, soft textures and skin, those all help make the characters not only expressive, but also appear soft to the touch. When they hug each other and press their cheeks against each other, they form shapes that a creature with chitin or shell wouldn't be able to, they basically melt into each other. It's a big reason why Vyrm has wrinkly skin instead of scales, but this kind of softer tissue is present in all of the designs, at least for the main cast, with the exception of Holly (which also fits their characterization, they are supposed to feel alien to the other bugs).

But mammals aren't the only group of animals I take inspiration from. In fact, taking the main cast in such a derived direction, also made me consider other animal groups. Some of the characters remain bug-like, particularly those who already looked very similar to real life bugs (such as Bretta or Quirrel). Some of them I made bird-like (Lurien, The Radiance). Some have reptilian traits (Vyrm's tail, Divine's snake-like body), and I would love to include fish and amphibian like designs at some point (maybe Unn could have some of that, on top of looking like a slug?). I think it adds a lot of variety to the designs, and in a lot of cases it can give them more personality that the game maybe didn't focus on too much. It's really fun to experiment with it, much more fun in my opinion than looking for real life bug species to assign them to the characters based on appearancr (which is absolutely valid, but not something I find particularly creatively inspiring for me)

These are the main reasons, there are other smaller ones, but those can be all summed up as "I enjoy drawing these design traits so I wanted to put them in my passion project". Y'know, a little bit of self-indulgence. I think the best part of Hollow Knight characters is that, while a lot of them are inspired by real life animals, they are in large part just fictional little guys. You can interpret them in a variety of ways, and I chose one that perhaps deviates a bit from the usual, but also allows me to flesh out the characters more into what I want them to be for the purpose of the AU.

[kestrel-bee]

I just finished ISAT, and. Wow. I am in shambles after Act 5 holy FRICK

Okay, now that I’m done, time to dump all of my thoughts out at once, because I NEED to talk about this game holy crap

(spoilers abound from this point, don’t read if you are interested in playing for yourself)

(CW for discussing religion-related struggles with sexuality, if that’s something that bugs ya)

Okay, for starters, I just want to talk about how well executed this game is.

The gameplay was interesting and not too hard to understand while still being unique and fun, the illustrations and art style was really cute and charming, the character designs are recognizable yet creative, the writing is entertaining and made me love all of the characters in a very quick fashion, and the story overall was just FANTASTIC.

Literally my only complaint is that i had a tricky time adjusting to how sensitive the controls were when walking. Maybe it works better on desktop, but I was playing on the Steam Deck, and the only other platform I can play on is Mac, which this game does not support.

But honestly this ended up being a nonissue, I figured it out pretty quickly and after an hour or so I had the controls down to pat.

I also love how they handled the concept of a time loop, and the slow descent of Siffrin’s mental downfall. The way he started getting so desperate at the end, clinging to every scrap of hope he could find was heart wrenching.

Act 5 was KILLER, omg, I was so wrecked over it I had to take a break to calm down 😭

It’s not often a piece of media evokes THIS much emotion out of me, holy crud.

To talk about some of the characters,

I LOVE me some found family fluff, and boy oh boy was I fed, they’re so wholesome, they’re all so skrunkly 😭

I loved the little snippets of representation in these characters, with Odile being mixed race and attempting to connect to her roots, and Isabeau’s very trans-coded backstory. And yk, the multitude of gays and lesbians throughout the game XD

Even though that kind of representation doesn’t resonate with me personally, I still like to see it.

But oh man, Mirabelle’s cutscene in Act 3 hit hard. I myself am aroace and religious, and marriage was always something I felt was expected from me.

As I got older and realized that romantic attraction wasn’t really something I feel for people, I tried to convince myself I was attracted to a good friend of mine who had a crush on me, which obviously didn’t work out.

I’ve always had a hard time identifying with womanhood in the way my church has always portrayed it as, so having Mirabelle talk about her faith related struggle with her asexuality and identity was such a comforting representation for me.

Another thing, I can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, but I love how neurodivergent coded they are?

Like, we have Siffrin, kinda touch averse and quiet,

Odile who doesn’t like change and needs her routine alone time to recuperate after every floor,

Mirabelle and Isabeau, the funny noise appreciation squad, the hyper-empathetic duo who would always get over hyped over things together,

And while I can’t think of a specific example for them, Bonnie is always there matching Mirabelle and Isabeau’s energy.

Not to mention the frequent amount of times the latter 3 would repeat each other (echolalia) when saying something fun or happy. (Like the “Pie Smell!” candle).

Do these things on their own make them neurodivergent? No, but the way they’re consistently written like this feels very intentional and I love it.

Anyway, whoof, that was very long, but TLDR: this game was PHENOMENAL, and I will be recommending it to everyone I know

[lilia-dabbles]

solo rpg actual play: woven threads pt. 2

part 1 here, all woven thread posts here

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊

We left off with Liora witnessing her parents being killed from the basement during the raid on her village. With this in mind, I'm thinking Liora's next goal/steps should be to find any potential survivors and anything useful for her quest of getting answers.

For this next turning point, I roll two personal plot points (bad decision and a figure from the past) and two tension points (heavily guarded and a problem returns). With the plot point, a figure from the past, it requires me to roll a new character that Liora had known previously. From the roles and characteristics I roll, I decide Nina is a teenager who went to work at the palace as a maid when she was just a child. Maybe the bad decision she made in the past is what led to the raid on Liora’s village.

After searching for any survivors (she finds none), Liora comes across Nina mourning at the center of the village.

I roll for the following:

Does Liora immediately recognize Nina?→ Yes, and... Nina is instantly recognizable by the red thread still braided into her hair, a relic of their shared childhood. Does Liora approach Nina, or just watch her? → Yes Liora approaches slowly and calls her name.

So Liora and Nina recognize each other, and Nina confesses the bad decision she made. Based on her careless characteristic, I'm thinking that she carelessly let something slip about the legend of the Woven Gate to one of the guards, leading to the raid. Perhaps she led them to the village without her knowing what would happen.

This is going to be an emotionally charged scene, so I decide to loosely adapt my emotions system from Crimson Threads to be more platonic (removing the desire and obsession emotions), giving the relationship between Liora and Nina the following initial stats:

After Nina's confession, Liora has to decide whether to forgive her. I roll Deepen the Bond for both empathy and trust:

Deepen the Bond (Empathy roll: 2d6 +1 = 10) → Success Deepen the Bond (Trust roll: 2d6 = 6) → Miss Result: +1 Empathy, +1 Resentment, Trust remains at 0, +1 tension, +1 surge

Their shared experience of both having lost their village is just enough to make the empathy roll a full success. This also raises the surge count and pushes Nina closer to eventually taking action. But trust doesn't land, which causes both tension and resentment to rise.

I interpret this as Liora being able to see Nina's grief as authentic but not understanding how she couldn't have known that what she did would lead to this tragedy.

Liora doesn't trust Nina but realizes she's her only link to the capital. She presses Nina for any way to get close to General Dorian or the royal family.

I want Liora to go to the capital to meet the remaining love interests, so let's think of a way to narratively explain this:

Nina explains that noblewomen are sometimes invited to palace events, especially balls and formal receptions where high-ranking officials—including the Crown Prince and Dorian—are often present. If Liora could pass as a noble, she'd have access to places no servant could reach.

Great! And now, let's link this to the two remaining plot points (heavily guarded and a problem returns) for this plotline I will be naming, "The Mask of Nobility."

Liora needs her fake noble identity to be believable, so let's have an abandoned registry outpost near the village. Maybe the knights are still nearby from after the raid, making it heavily guarded.

Inside, Liora and Nina find old noble lineage documents, some with intact royal seals. But can they successfully forge Liora's fake identity on them?

Do they succeed in forging Liora’s identity? → Yes, and… It's so successful that the documents look very official. Nina is able to mimic the palace calligraphy style because of her time working there.

Liora will take on the name Liora Vale– an old noble line from the outskirts of the kingdom.

As they leave the registry, soldiers from a camp nearby spot them.

Do they recognize Nina? → Yes. This leads back to the plot points heavily guarded and a problem returns (the knights)

Liora will have to lie to get out of this. Even if Nina came with the soldiers, they will be suspicious about why Liora is with her.

Liora will lie that she is a noblewoman visiting her family in a different nearby village, and that's why she's dressed plainly. Nina offered to escort her because she knows the area.

Do they believe the lie? Odds: Somewhat Likely (≈60%) + Lie is strong + Liora plays the part well − Clothing is too plain Roll: 37 → Success → They believe her.

The guards step aside, but now Liora has so much more to do to complete her plan.

I end this session by adding our new plotline and Nina to our plot and character lists.

🎭 Noble Disguise Progress [✔️] Name and Cover Identity [✔️] Forged Lineage & Noble Documents [⬜] Court-appropriate clothing + status symbol [⬜] Claim to Land or House [⬜] Successful entrance into a noble setting

Narrative Scene: From the Ashes

Liora pushed open the trapdoor and climbed out of the basement, into a world that felt too quiet.

Smoke lingered in the air, thick and bitter, catching in her throat as she stepped onto what remained of the floorboards. The ceiling above had collapsed, open to a gray, overcast sky. Her home—what used to be her home—was now just a skeleton of blackened beams and cracked stone. Ash crunched beneath her boots. Every breath stung.

She moved carefully, automatically, through what was left of the village. Mirewood Hollow had always been small, tucked deep in the trees, quiet in the way only places forgotten by maps could be. Now it was nothing but char and silence. The scent of burning still clung to the ground. Thread-charms hung melted on doorways, swinging faintly in the breeze like whispers from the dead.

She checked each ruin. The bakery, the old mill, the forge. There were no voices, no movement—no survivors.

She didn’t cry.

Eventually, she reached the village square.

The Elder Tree stood at its center, scarred and stripped, its bark blackened by flame but still upright, still rooted. It had been the heart of the village for generations. Children used to tie red thread to its branches when they had a secret too big to say aloud. Liora had, once. She remembered the feel of the thread between her fingers. She remembered what she had asked it to keep.

There was someone beneath it.

Liora stopped cold.

A girl knelt at the base of the tree, shoulders hunched forward, her body curled as if trying to disappear into the roots. Her hair was tangled, streaked with soot, but the braid was unmistakable—thin red thread still woven into it, fraying at the ends.

“Nina?” Liora’s voice cracked. She hadn’t meant to speak.

The girl looked up sharply, her eyes wide with shock. And then she was running.

“Liora!”

She threw her arms around her, sobbing openly. Her whole body shook with it.

Liora didn’t move. She stood frozen as Nina cried against her. She let it happen—let the weight of it press against her chest, let the familiarity twist something inside her—but she didn’t return the embrace.

It was too soon. It was too much.

Nina pulled back after a long moment, her face blotchy and wet.

“I thought you were gone,” she whispered. “I thought…”

Her voice trembled, and she didn’t finish the sentence. Her eyes searched Liora’s face, full of grief and guilt and something else—something harder to name.

“What are you doing here?” Liora asked quietly.

“I didn’t know,” Nina said immediately, too quickly. “They just… they asked about the Gate. I thought it was just a story. I didn’t think—”

“What did you do?”

Nina’s lips parted, then shut again. She looked down at her hands.

“I didn’t know they’d burn everything,” she whispered. “I thought they wanted folklore. I didn’t know it would be real.”

Liora stared at her. She saw the girl she remembered from childhood—always running behind her older sister, always tugging at her sleeves, always tying too much thread into the charms so they hung like tangled ribbons. The thread was still there, faded and dirty, tucked into her braid like it had never been taken out.

She remembered the day Nina left—barely more than a child, riding away in a crowded merchant cart bound for the capital. Her family had sent her to work as a maid in the royal palace, one of the few ways a village girl could send coin home. They hadn’t seen each other since.

Now she was back. And everything was gone.

Liora saw the tears. She saw the pain. And yet—

“You should have known,” she said.

Nina looked up. “I didn’t—”

“That’s the worst part.”

They stood in silence.

Liora felt something sharp uncoil in her chest. She didn’t know what to do with it. It wasn’t rage, not exactly. Not yet. But it was something just as dangerous.

“I was trying to help,” Nina said weakly. “I didn’t know they’d kill people. I thought they were just… looking for stories. For rumors.”

“And so you gave them ours.”

Nina winced.

“I didn’t know what I was doing,” she whispered.

“That’s not an excuse.”

She didn’t say it with cruelty. Just finality.

But despite the ache still burning under her ribs, Liora understood. She saw it in Nina’s eyes—that she regretted it, that she would carry it like Liora carried her grief. It didn’t change the past. It didn’t make anything better. But it was real.

And it meant something.

Still, trust was something else entirely.

After a long moment, Liora asked, “Are there others like them? In the capital?”

Nina looked up slowly. “You want to go there?”

Liora nodded. “I need to. If the Gate is real—and they think it is—then there’s more to this. I need answers. I need to know what Dorian wants. And what the Crown knows.”

Nina hesitated. “There are ways to get close. But not as a commoner.”

“I could pose as a servant.”

Nina shook her head quickly. “No. Servants don’t get close, Liora. They’re invisible until they’re punished. Or worse. If you’re caught where you don’t belong, they won’t ask questions.”

Liora stared at her.

“You’ve seen that.”

Nina didn’t answer.

They sat for a while beneath the tree. The wind stirred the leaves. Ash shifted across the ground like snow.

“There’s an old registry,” Nina said eventually. “Outside the southern woods. Half of it’s crumbling, but the seals are still good. If we can find something from a forgotten line… I could forge a name. I know the calligraphy. The format. The seals.”

Liora was silent for a moment, then nodded.

“Then let’s go.”

—

The outpost was buried in ivy and rot. A stone building folded in on itself, half-eaten by moss and time. But the inside still held what they needed—stacks of brittle scrolls, faded parchment, water-damaged ledgers.

Most were useless.

But some still bore the marks of nobility: a wax seal here, a crest there, a signature scrawled in golden ink.

Nina worked with eerie precision. She copied everything—names, titles, dates—until the forged documents looked untouched by time. She gave Liora a last name: Vale, plucked from a long-dormant house that once ruled a quiet borderland in the east.

Liora kept her first name. It felt like defiance.

The documents were flawless.

Nina handed them over wordlessly.

“I didn’t think you had it in you,” Liora said.

“I didn’t either,” Nina replied.

They stepped out into the clearing.

They weren’t alone.

In the clearing ahead, the glint of armor caught the sun. A camp of soldiers, still stationed in the region after the raid. One of them turned—and stopped.

His eyes locked on Nina.

“You. From the palace. You’re the one who led us to the gate village. What the hell are you doing here?”

Liora’s spine went rigid. Her fingers curled around the forged papers.

Nina stepped forward before she could speak.

“She’s Lady Liora Vale,” she said. “She was visiting family in a nearby village when the raid happened. I volunteered to guide her back. I know the land.”

The soldier’s eyes narrowed.

“She doesn’t look like nobility.”

Liora stepped forward, spine straight, face composed.

“I was under the impression the Crown’s soldiers had better things to do than harass traveling nobility,” she said. “Especially with all the raids you’ve yet to finish.”

The soldier looked her over—peasant dress, soot-stained hem, tangled hair. Not a single jewel. But she stood like she belonged on marble.

He blinked. Then slowly stepped aside.

Liora brushed past him without another word.

“I want to return to the capital,” she said coolly. “I’m tired of mud. And I’m tired of the smell of burning rot.”

The guards didn’t follow.

But one of them watched her go, long after she had disappeared into the trees.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊

part 3 here

[dearweirdme]

I wasn't planning on talking anymore but I wanted to send you something to hopefully counter all of the doubters that were bumming you out. 😊 People react very emotionally right away when something like this happens, and I think they should at least take time to process everything before getting into any discussions. This isn't even our first round of shenanigans this year. I've been a Taekooker for a long time and the outV/outJK hate campaign has been around at least as long so this is not my first or second rodeo. They almost always follow the same pattern. The Taennope situation is the one outlier and while a lot of people were panicking immediately after the Paris video, most eventually came back around because the weirdness of the whole thing is obvious to the point media play started being the only explanation that makes sense. Features that are almost always present are a combo of real pics/videos and edited or fake photos/videos that get debunked, a lot get debunked very quickly. What they try to pass of as "proof" usually hides the identities somehow, no recognizable or only partially visible faces, blurring, facing away from the camera, or obstructed view. There's always coordination between multiple accounts that start posting everything together, they often end up contradicting each other or overplay their hand by embellishing too much and adding something that is very obviously untrue. One of the most interesting things to me about the most recent shenanigans is the similarities in the "proof" to JK's "scandal" in 2019. What we got first was a pictures of CC camera footage that showed JK backhugging a woman. This actually showed visible and identifiable faces. It was definitely him. I engaged a lot more on Twitter at the time and was in a group chat with a few big accounts and that day was a crazy one, because the accounts that started the rumor tagged us personally. I think they thought we'd freak out and spread it, but we all kept it in the chat and didn't make any public posts. Soon enough the rumor was officially denied, and the woman involved posted a letter saying they were just friends and she apologized for upsetting anyone (which she shouldn't have had to do). Maybe it's because I saw that go down in real time from a front row seat that the recent smear campaign doesn't get to me. I find the whole thing questionable in the same way every incident has been. Except this time Jungkook actually addressed it almost immediately and while talking directly to us. I've seen some imply he said "I don't have a girlfriend" (three times apparently "I don't have any girlfriend") as some sort of half-truth skirting around him having a gf when the video was shot but not now, but I don't think he would say that if he thought there was a risk anything was going to come up that would make it look like he tried to lie to his own fans. If that was a risk I think he would have just stayed quiet about it, and he certainly would have been advised to stay quiet by the company. I also think him expressing relief at having said that is very interesting. How long has he wanted to say something like that. I trust Jungkook. I put my trust in him over a group of people spreading these things, whether they are all real/some real/all fake, for one purpose: to hurt him by turning his fans against him. None of this is reason enough for me to doubt everything I've seen in Taekook. Earlier you said "I have a pretty clear idea in my head on how everything fits together", I feel that. I debunk a lot of Taekook for myself, but there's still a lot that is undeniable for me and I have everything lined up with receipts when it comes to them. The foundation of my belief just doesn't shake that easily. Thank you for posting pictures of them recently, because I think it's very easy for some to forget why they were here in the first place when there is so much confusion.

Hi anon!

Thanks for this ask! I very much agree with you on all points.

[spentimentalwriting]

The Fabric Multiverse

Sharing what I've written because it makes me feral

The Fabric Multiverse is a worldbuilding framework I created. It serves as 1) an excuse to reuse characters in different stories and 2) a way to legitimize fanfiction as it's own sort of canon. Yes, you may write fanfiction about my characters and worlds and it will technically be canon and I can't say anything because I have chosen this fate. Here's how it works:

The Fabric is made of multiple layers, with the outermost layer being the real world- the Surface. Each layer beneath that is a new world or reality. I often refer to the layers in terms of "higher" and "lower," like passing through lasagna, but it would be more accurate to say "inner" and "outer." Imagine an egg. A Cadbury creme egg. Or like... Ferrero Rocher. No WAIT- a jawbreaker/gobstopper. That one fits the best. The closer you get to the center of the treat of your choice, the closer you get to the Abyss. The Abyss is where all life originates, taking the form of abstract emotions.

Each layer is separated by the "fabric of the universe." Like, a literal invisible fabric. The fabric has tears in it. Some tears are pinpricks, some are gaping. Through these tears, the waters of the Abyss travel to the outer layers to create life. If you don't know how to spot a tear, you might just find yourself falling through into an alternate reality.

Following, a brief description of the layer types and then some key terms and concepts.

The Layers:

The layers of the Fabric are nearly infinite. It is impossible to know how many layers there are, as each tear can lead through more than one layer. In traveling, you may bypass a large number of layers without even knowing it. Thus, extreme caution is advised. If you’re not sure how deep you have traveled, take a second to observe your surroundings. The more familiar and logical your surroundings, the safer it is to be on that layer without fear of dissolution.

The Surface:

Layer Z0 or 00 or ZZ Physical reality as we know it. The Earth we call home and the “real world.” Many people in the upper layers refer to their layer as “the Surface.” In truth, the higher a person travels through the layers, the less likely they will be to find the layers above them. Thus, they can learn about the Fabric without knowing that their layer is in fact not “reality.” It is theorized that tears appear less the farther a layer is from the Abyss. No human has been known to have traveled from the Surface to another layer. Therefore, it is believed that humans from the Surface can only access deeper layers of the Fabric through their mind in imagination and dreams. While beings from other layers may walk between the layers of the Fabric, humans from the Surface are trapped here until they die. When their emotions dissolve and return to the Abyss, they travel through tears so small and so rare that a human could never discover them.

Upper/Outer layers:

Layers Q-Z Surroundings are fairly similar to reality and operate on the common laws of physics. Locations, people, and objects from one layer may exist on other layers and appear fairly identical. Magic is incredibly difficult to master for the average person and often requires a physical token or location. Inventions and buildings are as permanent as those on the Surface. Often entire nations appear virtually unchanged from their Surface counterparts. While unique cultures may exist in different layers (typically the lower one goes), the biological makeup of humans is largely identical.

Middle layers:

Layers H-P A mix between familiar and surreal, where most half-human, half-emotion beings reside. Their biology does not follow the logic of humans and can sometimes shift based on their emotions, though usually their appearance still resembles something recognizable. Structures and items are mostly stable, though they can be affected by strong emotions and take on a more abstract, simplified form. Emotional doppelgangers are born here, holding only the most prominent memories of their Surface counterparts and expressing in stronger, simplified emotions. Many wander like ghosts, seeking fulfillment or retribution for their unsatisfied lives. They can also come in the form of buildings or items which hold the emotions of those who used them. This is the birthplace of many magical beings that humans would refer to as demons or gods. The rules of society are sometimes nonsensical and can change on a dime based on the whims of those in power. People cling to these rules to form a sense of normalcy in their ever-shifting lives, though they aren’t very good at it. Traveling or living here is fairly dangerous compared to the Surface and upper layers because of the confusing rules and unpredictable residents. In the lower-middle layers, human language starts to become obsolete with residents reaching the comprehension of a human toddler.

Lower/Inner Layers:

Layers A-G Emotions manifest as physical beings. Magic is easier, more abundant, and often accidental. Physical forms resemble emotions more than science and logic. The emotions you manifest may change your immediate surroundings unexpectedly and without intention. Simple rules of science and physics do not seem to apply or do not apply consistently. Even items that are created or built by sapient residents represent emotions and can be affected by them easily, so inventions and buildings are uncommon. Residents are unstable and prone to emotional fits. Anything resembling culture or language is purely coincidental or simple mimicry. An incredibly dangerous place where one can easily fall through a tear and into the Abyss or be hit by a blast of emotion.

The Abyss:

Layer A0 or AA The primordial waters from which all life originates. In the Abyss, words lose all meaning. People can only produce sounds that represent the emotions they mean to express, even while they can still form thoughts in their mind. Emotions float like clouds and flash like lightning. A technicolor dream. This is where magic comes from. Like a black hole, physical matter is sucked deeper into the Abyss, only to dissolve. No one knows what lies in the depths. Even if a person were to escape, they would lose a significant amount of their memories and sanity. Upon entering the Abyss, a person is connected to that which makes all life possible. For lack of a better phrase, they are “one with the universe.” A person connects their inner emotions and experiences to those around them, thus losing any sense of individuality. In this deep level of connection and understanding, a person who survives the Abyss can no longer comprehend the reality around them. They no longer feel physical needs or understand the motivation of those around them, even the ones they used to hold dear. They simply wait for death so they can return to where they came. Despite the existential dread, a death in the Abyss is the most peaceful imaginable. As one’s emotions and physical being dissolve into the ether surrounding them, they know they have never truly been alone.

Key Terms and Concepts:

The Inter-dimensional Quilter’s Society (Quilt Club): a group of individuals whose goal is to study, map, and connect the layers of the Fabric. Likewise, they call themselves Quilters and their job "quilting." Despite having almost an entire layer of the Fabric dedicated to quilting, they haven't discovered or connected the vast majority of the Fabric because it's just that big and complicated. A separate post about the Quilt Club can be found here.

Tear: a rip or hole between layers through which physical matter can pass. A tear can be identified by a thin shimmering texture in the air, where visuals are slightly blurred. Usually a line along the seam. The fabric itself can be felt when reaching through the tear. It feels like a thin, gauzy material- very faint and best felt as a disturbance on one’s skin or hair. One can reach through the tear and part the fabric to see through to the other side. The Quilt Club has designed lenses to make tears more visually distinct. The fabric is not delicate enough to be torn open by simply touching or tugging on it. The Quilt Club does not know how tears are formed. Tears grow so slowly that there is currently no concern for the structural integrity of the fabric, but it will someday be a catastrophic problem if left unnoticed. Tears do not move, shrink, or close on their own unless the tear is enmeshed in an object or person.

(More research needs to be done on the mechanics of moving or enmeshed tears)

Primordial spring: when a tear goes from one layer all the way to the Abyss. The more layers, the less visible the Abyss. Responsible both for unexplained disappearances and places on the Surface that are overflowing with natural life.

Dissolution: the farther a being originates from a layer, the less time it can spend on that layer. Humans dissolve in the Abyss. Emotions dissolve on the Surface, which then leak back into the Abyss.

Abstraction: the closer to the Abyss, the more abstract beings are born. They represent emotions in their purest form.

The cycle of life: All life is fueled by the primordial waters. When a person dies, all of their emotions leak back down into the Abyss. While a person is alive, their emotions leak back down when they are expressed. If emotions are liquid, then physical reality is comprised of the crystals left behind when emotions dissolve.

Minds: A sentient mind holds microscopic tears, sometimes all the way to the Abyss. Through the mind, a human can connect to the Abyss in fleeting moments. The stronger the connection, the stronger the emotion the person experiences. Those with more, larger, and deeper tears will walk the line from creativity to insanity. The most potent tears connect directly to the Abyss. These tears overwhelm a person’s ability to understand reality on their home layer, leading them to lose sanity. In rare cases, a person’s brain will dissolve from exposure to the primordial waters.

Magic: magic is a manifestation of emotions in which a person taps into the Abyss through their mind’s tears (consciously or unconsciously) and brings forth the physical emotion onto their layer. The farther their layer is from the Abyss, the less potent and lasting the emotion. If they cannot direct the emotion outward, it overwhelms their body. The effects of the emotion on the body directly reflect how close the tear, the layer, and the person’s origin layer is to the Abyss. A separate post detailing how magic works in the Fabric can be found here.

Anyway, that's what I've got in my main document on the Fabric. It's not done cooking (will be simmering for years to come), but I would absolutely love it if you asked me about it, wrote your own ideas for it, etc. Like I said at the top, this was created to help me make sense of fanfiction and death of the author and all that.

My goal as an artist is to encourage other people to make art. If you love what I make, there is no greater way to appreciate it than to be inspired and make your own stuff.

[superm4ks]

Yes pookie I do write f1c yes I have clowned on self insert and will continue to do so but Im not about to imply these 'y/n' social media authors are perpetuating a ‘cesspool of misogyny’ without acknowledging my own reproductions of capitalist, heteronormative, white supremacist and yes, particularly, homophobic and transphobic models. CRAZY how the thing about op's type of surface level literacy is that it’s literally just somebody’s own sense of superiority wrapped around framework that exists in a vacuum. Talking about girls/women being their ‘own voyeurs’ wid a lil Atwood quote and then going back to cope posting about millionaire men having gay drama without a lil bit of pause or reflection on how these 2 might intersect bro I can’t stand it its so empty it's nothing. Theres no purpose to that but posturing. And the tags of other rb's echo that. Like 'no my voyeurism is different than theirs because my characters are ‘fictional’, and these 15 year olds want to 'perform' as if the intention behind creating the ‘y/n’ fantasy thru social media doesn’t come from the same place as using celebrities to play queer roles wid each other that u as an author find satisfying by completely erasing the gender orders and logics of possession inherent to the spaces where they exist as real people. Especially in a space like f1 lmfao. It’s ALL escapism that’s the whole fucking point. It’s fantasy it’s delusion it’s not real but it justifies itself thru the author's own perception of what an 'ideal' reality is, and yes, that reality is always dominated by men. So why are we all of a sudden talking down to self insert as if the same power structures arent present in most fan work, as if the 'fictional approval' of y/n and the celebs peers isnt as important as the search for 'content' that institutionalizes real person f1c and its own levels of performance-based accuracy. Why isn't that present in this analysis or is its purpose just to clown on young girls wid capcut accounts because u don't find their reproductions worth the price of admission. There’s no ethical consumption of real person fanfiction lmfao SORRY my gay little maxiel is not more feminist than ig edit of sharl leclercs quirky model gf receiving fictional meme approval on twt just because mine has manifested itself thru a projected queer identity that I want to perform thru them by making them fuck and theirs is performing thru aesthetics by going on pinterest. We're all 'performing' for men because we're all responding to billions dollars worth of marketing driven by an industry that wants to keep marginalized bodies at the margin trying to buy their way in. Fans respond to that by faking their own status either wid gay f1c or self insert or both or whatvr. The parasocial nature of how celebs move today and the type of access u have wid social media means fans are more likely to turn to that medium to fantasize about how it wud be if they were perceived like that and they got the likes and the comments and the fans. So I agree wid op that its not actually 'y/n' , but like, not sure how 'wild' that is compared to most f1c considering literally, the whole point of fanfiction is that u play wid already familiar and existing structures until they reflect something that is more recognizable to u. I do that by turning these guys into multifaceted queer versions of themselves, somebody else might do that by editing an ig post, somebody might try both. So I dont agree wid any feminist analysis of f1c or self insert that isn't the very least intersectional and that is willing to make assumptions about how 'y/n' authors perform the male fantasy without mentioning how the same happens in every type of f1c. Im suspicious of its intention and I find it lacking

[fenmere]

System Questionaire

from this post here by @pluralasking

100 questions below the cut!

1. What is your System name and / or the name you collectively go by?

The Inmara

2. Which word do you prefer to use for your System? (example: System, Collective, Constellation, ...)

a plurality (but we're OK-ish with system)

3. What are your Systems origins, if you choose to label them?

our system itself is protogenic with a mix of spiritual and developmental/neurogenic explanations for it (we were born plural and born to be plural), but we've definitely also been shaped by trauma

4. Do you have any Subsystems?

yes, three - one each by hemisphere of the brain, and the third much smaller and somewhere in between (possibly the lymbic system)

5. Do you have any Sidesystems?

no

6. What is your opinion on you& / your& language and similar types?

we think language like this should exist, but we personally find those particular forms autistically grating. We've tried genuinely for years to get used to them, but just cannot.

7. What methodes do you use to keep track of your System and it's Members?

blogging, mostly, though we do have a wiki

8. What is your Systems ways of communication?

basically every way you can think of (even sometimes sticky notes, but usually talking out loud)

9. Is communication hard or easy for you (and why is it the way it is)?

super easy for most day to day communication, which makes the barriers that crop up during stressful times hard to predict, see coming, account for, and accommodate we were born plural and have never not been plural, our brain is set up to do this. but, of course, stress and distress and inner conflict throw up stronger dissociative and amnesiac barriers, and those can really screw us up, because we don't see them coming

10. Do you view yourselves as parts of one person or as multiple people in one body?

we are a people, multiple autonomous individuals, who function as a small nation, with a national identity, with access to this meat mech that works just a little bit like a jaeger from Pacific Rim, allowing us to drift when piloting it - we can pretend to be a single person when we need to, but we are not one person by any stretch of the imagination

11. Who are you out to as plural?

everyone except our doctors and the government

12. What languages do you collectively / one of you speak?

English. We have three conlangs, and we've studied Spanish, German, and a tiny bit of Korean, but we can't speak any of these other languages, unfortunately. There's some kind of cognitive barrier or disability preventing us from learning how.

13. What is something you can't seem to collectively agree on?

what an acceptable body would be like - how to treat our physical dysphoria - this is at the center of why we are plural in the first place

14. If you have a collective Identity (such as Gender or Orientation), what is it?

autistic, plural, intersex, disabled, trigender, trans, therian - we are the Ktletaccete (plus some Outsiders)

15. Do you collectively identify as queer / LGBTQIA+?

WE'RE QUEER. WE HERE. and you know the rest.

16. Do you collectively identify as Otherkin, Alterhuman or Nonhuman?

Therian is our third favorite word, and the most recognizable. Our second favorite is Other, with the capital O, from Wildbow's Otherverse. But, we are Ktletaccete

17. Do you have a collective rentry / carrd / something along those lines? (feel free to share!)

our wiki! http://www.inmara.world/

18. What does switching feel like for you?

most of the time, we don't even notice it. There are a range of sensations when we do notice it. The most common is that it's kind of like when the optometrist flips the testing lenses when you're looking through the scope. Sometimes it's way more full sensory and amazing and just hard to explain.

19. Are you Monoconscious, Polyconscious or something else?

pfft! These words are worthless to describe us! (Hydraconscious comes the closest, but is still wrong.)

20. What does fronting feel like for you?

Becoming the whomever is fronting. We all become them, those of us who are co-conscious, and see through their eyes and perspective. Leaving the front is like becoming whoever replaces us. Usually! We've also experienced some of the other descriptions other systems have given, but usually rarely and during great times of distress.

21. How many System members do you have?

Approximately 4 million. We grow by about 230 members a day. That's according to our census, which we've taken three times. We've hand counted nearly 300 members who've fronted and identified themselves. Believe what you will. This is our experience and what we say to respect ourselves.

22. Which word / words do you prefer to use for members of your System?

Members, sometimes headmates, sometimes sysmates, always people and beings. Some of us are the populace, liaisons, the Crew, the Senior Officers, our Parents, and the Outsiders.

23. Which age group seems to be the most common in your System?

hard to measure, not sure - age is a really weird thing to us and we kind of don't like it.

24. Which gender seems to be the most common in your System?

It's an even split between Dragon and Girl, as far as we can tell. Both are non-binary for us, but Girl is at least female, Dragon is Aporagender/Maverique.

25. Are there any talents / hobbies you picked up because of a Member?

Yes. Every single one. We each specialize in a hobby, special interest, skill, or blorbo.

26. Do you have any in-system relationships?

So many, it's impossible to count. Some of them are basically celebrity polycules and couples, though.

27. Do you label roles within your System (and if yes, which ones?)

The most important roles to us are Senior Officers, Liaisons, and Id Monsters (also a gender). We also have the temporary stations of Captain, Pilot, and Support Staff.

28. Are most of your Members introjected, brainmade or something else?

The vast majority of us are introjected, though we kind of really hate that word (we also hate "brainmade" but for completely different and petty/irrelevant reasons). More accurate: The vast majority of us are Liaisons, created by Akailea and the processes of our brain in order to track and understand individual people and characters from outside our system. We can call them factives and fictives, but they are conceived in our brain through the same processes most of the rest of us are, and just are basically method actors of their subjects (what others call "sources", though that's not accurate for us).

29. Do you use names, emojis or something similar to sign off messages (and if yes, which ones and why?)

No. There are way too many of us to do this.

30. Do any of your System members use Xenogenders?

Obviously, most outworlders these days would classify Dragon and Id Monster as xenogenders, but we fucking hate that. Xenogender is a perfectly fine word, but we had a perfectly fine word before it, aporagender, and xenogender implies that Dragon and Id Monster are constructs outside of human society and possible and they are not. Even though we ourselves are not human, our genders are absolutely how we interface with human society - they only matter when we're fronting. To us, they are human genders, imposed upon us by a human world.

31. How do Members pick face claims?

Every way you can conceivably imagine. But since we have fairly accomplished artists, we often just doodle something up until it feels right.

32. Do you have any Introjects of popular sources?

Every single one we've been exposed to, yes.

33. Do you have any Introjects of unpopular sources?

Every single one we've been exposed to, yes.

34. Do you have nonhuman Members?

Some of us play human really well, but we are all nonhuman.

35. Do any of you use Typing Quirks?

Nothing particularly contrived, but we do have different typing and writing habits.

36. Do all of you front, or only a selected amount?

We can have up to three people co-fronting, but that's a strain. Typically it's just one at a time. But we can have up to 18 or 19 members co-conscious with the fronter. Any one of us can front. The vast majority of us never do. It's a bottleneck, not be ability but just numbers.

37. Are there any Members who can't or prefer to not speak?

Yes. Notably Jenifer, one of our two eldest who were born with the body. She's the mother of everyone in the right hemisphere of our brain. She cannot talk without the assistance of other members, and very frequently chooses not to.

38. Are most of you short or tall in height?

We all shape shift. Most of us are Liaisons for human beings, so most of us settle in to average human height. Those of us who front frequently, however, are usually way outside of that range, either really tiny or enormoustly hugely big.

39. Is there a Member that is collectively loved by all in the System?

A few. With different feelings for each. Ink is our system baby, and everyone we know of loves her and considers her a symbol of why we're still alive. Jenifer is our system mother, and grandmother, and is adored and respected for that. Eh is our system parent, and is respected for having taken the Captain's chair for so long and managing our life before we came out as trans and plural. Phage is our Chief Monster, greatest protector, and spiritual hero. And we are all generally in awe of its presence in our system.

40. Do any of you struggle with being front-stuck a lot of the time?

No. Those of us who thought they did found out that they weren't, that is was an illusion created by our conscious gestalt.

41. Do you have a Headspace (if not, is there a reason)?

What do you mean by "a Headspace"? When we were introduced to that word, headspace meant any space created by and for any system member, and that if you had an inworld of any sort you would have many headspaces. We have an inworld. We have a conscious headspace, or fronting room, that we call the Bridge. We have many, many personal and collective headspaces.

42. What does your Headspace look like?

EVERYTHING - but with a definite horror movie cast to it

43. How do Members look like in Headspace? (example: Cartoony, Foggy, Realistic, ...)

Usually foggy to realistic. But there've been some cartoons, which is great. We all can shapeshift and take on various different forms and natures. And we all each also see the others differently, kinda Rashomon-like.

44. Is there a reason why the Headspace looks the way it looks?

A combination of hard work and visualization on our part, and lots of residual trauma and fear.

45. Is it easy for you to enter Headspace?

Those of us who are awake are in the Bridge always, and see that is as simple as paying attention to what's not being seen by our eyes. For the rest of our inworld? Not consciously, except when we fall asleep and dream, no. It's almost impossible for us to do it as a conscious group while awake. But a single individual leaving the front immediately enters it.

46. Do you remember what happened in Headspace when you switch into front?

Only what's happened on the Bridge. The Gestalt on the Bridge is so strong that it overrides working memories brought from inworld. Dreams are kind of the exception, but then basically the whole Bridge has been dreaming.

47. Does time in Headspace pass (and if yes, is it at the same speed as in real life)?

Yes, and absolutely not.

48. What is your favourite place in Headspace?

The Garden of the Sunspot. It's our internal recreation of the fictional world we've created for our novels that supposed to be an allegory of our system. We're trying to turn it into a paracosm, and we've been moderately successful, and we've seen it in dreams, and it's gorgeous and we are absolutely proud of it.

49. Are there "NPCs" within your Headspace?

No, there are 4 million system members. Every person we meet in a dream or in our inworld is a full blown person.

50. Are there any interesting fun facts about your Headspace?

See above, really.

51. Are there any "System Stereotypes" you fit into?

Absolutely. We're not going to list them. There's no need. If you've gotten this far, you can probably already name half of them.

52. Who of you would be considered the "evil alter"? (in a lighthearted, joking manner)

Phage (@ohthatphage) and a handful of the Id Monsters. Some of them actually nearly killed us during our worst times, but they are persecutors turned protector, in the simplest and clumsiest outworlder terms.

53. What is your favourite inside-joke with a Member?

Not with a single member, but all of us: We outnumber Portland We actually outnumber a lot of places even bigger than that, but Portland is the nearest city and it sounds funny.

54. What is your favourite Plural meme?

55. Is there any character that you headcanon as plural?

We headcanon the entire series of Steven Universe as a single plural system - and are fairly convinced that's actual canon, really. At least as an intentional metaphor that's implicit.

56. Is there any show or movie that you believe is a good plural representation, despite that not being its intention?

No. (those that are good rep were obviously intended to be)

57. Is there any song that you believe describes your plural experience?

We have a whole playlist. But "Here to stay" by Lenka is phenomenal and basically our system anthem.

58. What about an artwork that describes your plural experience?

It's really hard to encapsulate it in a piece of art, but the cover of our most recent book comes pretty close:

59. Which Member of your System do you believe to be the prettiest of them all?

We don't play that game. Standards of beauty vary too much and are also arbitrary and used to oppress people.

60. Do you collectively have a lucky number?

Not really?

61. When did you first discover your System?

Ah. Hm. Depends on who you ask. We publicly admitted and declared we were system in late August of 2016. But some of us noticed a lot earlier than that, while fronting even, such as sometime in 1995.

62. How many Members did you know about during your Syscovery?

For our public and full system realization: Three. Anne, Eh, and Phage. Then very quickly after we got Phage to front, we realized that I must be part of our system, too.

63. Was accepting your Plurality a challenge for you?

Absolutely. We didn't think plurality was a real thing until it smacked us in the face right after we came out as trans in 2015. We'd been a system since the mid 1970s, so that's a lot of time in the closet and in denial.

64. How did you learn about Plurality?

In fifth grade, in the mid eighties, a classmate had seen some awful movie or documentary about Multiple Personality Disorder, and everyone else told them it was fake.

65. Where there any signs of your Plurality, if you look back at your past?

Absolutely. Possibly the first outward sign being our "imaginary friend" Spitfire. But, at the very least, between 2012 and 2016, our ex-wife definitely noticed way before we did. But, also, our earliest memories from the crib are divided between our two eldest, Jenifer and Eh.

66. Do you think your Syscovery changed a lot in your life?

Definitely. It made us more psychologically stable and able to manage our disabilities more effectively. It made us so much happier. But, coming out as plural also disrupted our social life way more than coming out as trans ever did.

67. If you're out to others as plural, have they ever told you later on that they already thought about it before you realised?

Yep! Our ex-wife hugged us and cried when we finally admitted it, for instance.

68. What was the biggest struggle during your Syscovery?

Initially, the shock and fear of realizing that the person we thought we were literally didn't exist at all. That what we thought was a single consciousness and soul was actually constructed of millions of souls and awarenesses, each with their own identities and separate memories. Then it was realizing that our collective memories of our past could not be relied upon 100%. We get big things wrong all the time. It's still, like 99% accurate, but that 1% are a bunch of real doozies.

69. Was there any big event that led to your Syscovery?

Coming out as trans and then dealing with being trigender with conflicting dysphorias. This also affected us profoundly before we came out.

70. What is something you want questioning plurals to know?

It's OK. You're probably different from nearly every other conscious being. You can identify however you need to in order to make sense of what is happening in your mind. You get to.

71. Are you Neurodivergent (and if yes, how?)

This is a very silly question of anybody who is plural, because all pluralities are inherently Neurodivergent. Plurality is an atypical neurotype. But, we're Autistic, ADHD, Dyslexic, Synesthetic, Plural, C-PTSD/DID, and Therian, among other things.

72. Do you have any physical disability?

Yep. Some constellation of chronic illnesses, including endometriosis, and some kind of connective tissue disorder.

73. Do you have a dissociative disorder?

We have had DID. Maybe we still do according to the outworld, and for the purposes of certain discourse we will absolutely claim it. But, really, we're not in distress about our plurality and don't like fully embracing any outworld terms, so, it's not really a disorder to us? But it disables the shit out of us for the purposes of functioning like a neurotypical singlet who can work.

74. Do you have any other disorder?

C-PTSD, Endometriosis, dyspraxia, dyslexia, and a bunch of unidentified physical stuff.

75. Do symptom vary in intensity depending on the fronter?

Yep! Even for the physical stuff (thought that's usually a matter of endurance and freshness of tolerance)

76. Do you think your disability / disorder has an influence on your plurality?

probably

77. Do you have amnesia of any kind?

Hahaha! YEP! Usually tiny amusing things, but we've had full blackouts, and aren't fully aware of just how often.

78. Are there Members who deal better with symptoms than others?

Yes. But often it has more to do with who's been resting more lately.

79. Do your disorders / disabilities influence communication or switching within your System in any way?

Yep. Too many subtle ways to recount. Except that when our sensory processing disorder is triggered frequently, that's when our DID symptoms flare up big time and really disrupt our life.

80. Does being plural help with your disorders in any way? (example: another Member switching in to take care of the body during difficult times, ...)

Yep! By switching off to spell each other, we can manage things more easily. Division of labor, application of specialties and talents, that sort of thing. But also the simply emotional support of the whole system is huge. When an entire country has your back, it's powerful.

81. Which is your favourite plural flag?

This one seems pretty good, we think:

82. If you have one, which is your favourite plurality related tumblr blog?

Mine.

83. What is a fun fact about your System?

Gestures upward at the rest of the post. We exist and we're like that!

84. What is a flavour of ice cream that describes you collectively?

Harmless Free Radicals Mint Mocha Chocolate Chunk at Mallard Ice Cream in Bellingham Washington. We, uh, invented it. It's named after my comic.

85. Which pride flag is the prettiest, in your collective opinion?

The trigender pride flag:

86. If you collectively had to choose between being a sweet or a sour candy, which do you pick?

Sour. Like, the sourest. You know the one.

87. Your body always morphs into what the current fronter(s) look like, would you want this power or not?

We've been daydreaming about that power since we were three years old. It is basically a medical requirement for us. It is a moral imperative for anyone and everyone to figure out how to give us this ability.

88. Is there a Hatsune Miku in your System?

Oh, absolutely, of course. At least one.

89. Who has been in your System the longest (if you can remember)?

Jenifer and Eh (born with the body).

90. If you collectively had to choose, would you rather only eat sweet foods or only eat savoury foods for the rest of your life?

No. We will not choose.

91. If you collectively had to choose, would you pick to become a vampire or a werewolf?

werewolf

92. Your body is transfered into one of your Members sources, which do you pick and why?

Nimona. "Why?" you ask. *rolls eyes* See above.

93. If all of you turned into animals right this second, which animals would we find in your System?

94. What would a Minecraft server with all of your Members look like? (example: chaotic, peaceful, laggy, ...)

Laggy as fucking shit. Basically incapable of being run on anything but a supercomputer.

95. If you could choose between only living in Headspace or only living in Meatspace (real life), which would you choose?

Only living in Headspace. We collectively wish that Meatspace had never, ever existed. It's the Worst Thing Ever.

96. What topic would you collectively make a youtube channel about? (it can't be plurality!)

The Sunspot Chronicles - it'd essentially be a video version of a radio play or audio book, with animatics ideally

97. Which superpower would your body obtain, if you had to collectively decide on one?

Nimona.

98. Who would pick the coolest tattoo for the System and who would pick the worst?

We've all collectively picked the coolest tattoo that'd we'd get, Ink. It's possible that our Liaison for Trump would pick the worst. We just don't trust them, for obvious reasons. We wish they weren't in our system, but that's not how our system works.

99. If you only were allowed to eat one food for the rest of your life, but you would have to decide on the food collectively, what would it be and what would the decision making look like?

Pizza. That would be the healthiest food we could stick to eating with the widest variation.

100. What is the most fun about doing polls and answering questions, in your opinion?

Talking about ourselves. We're terrible like that. We want people to know who and what we are so we're not forgotten when we're gone. It may be our strongest collective fear.