#yes this is part of one large extended universe

[c-is-for-circinate]

Ok so regarding the stranger things extended universe, i definitely want to know more about nancy and her storyline, like does this become her career ? investigating government conspiracies? And how does she feel about it? About not living a more peaceful life after everything?

After something like Hawkins, there are three ways to go if you want to keep sane, Nancy thinks. Or, well. As sane as any of them are, now.

Some of them went out into the world ready to grab life and joy with both hands and all their teeth, the memory of how close death came to devouring them enough to spur them on to devour life right back. (Eddie's playing Boston next week, wants to know if she'll go to his show; Max and El, last Nancy heard, are learning to surf.) Some of them went out into the world still full of combat reflexes they didn't mean to keep and tripped into a new fight, a slower quieter more mundane one. (She saw the photos Jonathan took last time he visited Steve and Robin in Chicago, the protests last month, the signs, the flags.) And some of them...well. Some of them left the lessons of Hawkins a little less behind than that.

They won in Hawkins, inasmuch as burned-out buildings and the town memorials and the deep scars cutting through a still-damaged downtown count as winning. That battle's fought and won and done. But Nancy hasn't forgotten who started it, and it wasn't Henry Creel.

(She'll argue with Dustin about it, over a mountain of fried shrimp and a pitcher of beer he's somehow old enough to legally buy, because Dustin's always cared more about the how than the why. He thinks the important lesson of Hawkins is that the laws of physics known by everybody across the global scientific community are wrong. They spend an hour and a half going back and forth about Oppenheimer and Eisenhower, Regan and Brezhnev and Martin Brenner, because one of the only differences between Vecna and a nuclear bomb is still the fact that nobody thinks Vecna could exist, but Dustin is wrong about why that's important.)

Science can do a thousand things nobody thinks it can do. Science can split an atom. Science can split dimensions. It doesn't matter why it's possible; it doesn't even really matter what's possible, beyond the fact that massive governments with thousands of soldiers and billions of dollars can always kill when they want to. Whether it's a bomb or a child experiment or a gas leak.

What matters, every time, is that people are dead. What matters is that the public needs to know.

Nancy makes her name in college breaking a story about illegal sewage dumping near a residential neighborhood before the Boston Globe even has it. She gets a professor fired for plagiarism. She almost gets expelled for libel when she tries to run a story about date rape on campus. (She almost gets caught slashing tires, after that one, but she learned from the best. Erica Sinclair taught her plenty about stealth, and Murray's been trying to drive in the idea of patience since the first time they met.)

It's not about monsters, it was never about monsters. There aren't any more monsters, Nancy thinks. (She keeps a licensed handgun in a shoebox in her apartment, because she ran out of ammo for the Makarov years ago, because monsters aren't the only things that like to threaten too-curious reporters in the middle of the night, and because you never know.) It's always been about the people the monsters destroy.

Nobody will ever believe the story of what destroyed Hawkins, probably. (Maybe someday they'll declassify. Nancy has a four-hundred-page memoir under lock and key in the safe where she doesn't store her gun, if the world ever gets there. Maybe she'll just pass it down to Mike's grandchildren.) But people know now that it was Hawkins National Lab. That some kind of government weapons research, right there on Indiana soil, broke a small town in half. That's something.

Nancy graduates college and interns anywhere she can get a foot in the door. The Globe. The Times. The Washington Post. The Post, finally, sticks. There's an editor there who loves to give new reporters just enough slack in their leashes to hang themselves with, so they can fill the back of the paper with issue-selling scandal and then have somebody to fire if the wrong person in power gets upset. Nancy does three months of research, jotting off puff pieces and human interest stories about charity work and bills with no opposition, quietly filling up file folders of photos and receipts and evidence that nobody can prove she didn't obtain legally. Her first headline runs on a Tuesday morning and gets a White House senior staffer fired by Thursday afternoon.

It could have gotten her clearing out her desk by the end of Friday, but Nancy was careful. Nancy was smart. It chafes from the inside out, like a blister on her soul, but she knows all about water it down. She could've implicated a dozen elected officials in this, and ten of them would have skated right by with no trouble, just plenty of cause to make Nancy trouble right back. (There are already people in Washington who know her name. Nancy knows there are files about her in the Pentagon.) So she's careful, she's delicate, and she implies nothing at all about anybody she can't demolish outright. She waters it down. It gets her a promotion.

.

Nancy doesn't drink icewater vodka, herself. She likes whiskey instead, in her coffee, in her tea. She talks on the phone with Murray Bauman at only the most irregular intervals, and he sneers at her in a way that Nancy's pretty sure translates, on Murray's tongue, to a colleague's respect. She tries not to lie. She's better at it, nowadays.

Nancy is hungry, has always been hungry. Has always been starving, one way or another, all the way back when she was twelve years old thirsting for adventure in the basement with her little brother, fifteen and ravenous for a challenge, an experience, the chance to grow up. She's choked on what she thought she wanted enough times that you'd think she'd learn by now. Mostly what it's done is toughen her teeth and teach her to chew.

She wants truth, and she can have it for herself, if she's good enough. If she doesn't try to force-feed it to the rest of the world too hard. She wants respect, she wants justice, she's selfish and selfless and hungry for all of it.

She wants to not be so afraid. She wants to not be so alone. She wants, sometimes, just once in a while, to be a little bit quiet and a little bit soft and rest.

It didn't work with Jonathan the same way it didn't work with Steve, or Liam, or Casey, or Diane. Nancy aches to be a little less alone, but she doesn't starve for it. Never once in her life has she been hungry for a person the way she's hungry for everything else. Never once in her life has she actually fallen in love back.

But Jonathan is at her front door again, because Jonathan is a yo-yo to all the people he's ever loved: backing off to give them time and space to grow, rocketing off into the world alone just for a little while, just as long as he can bear it, and then slinging himself back. Back to her again, this time.

Jonathan knows the score. Knows she loves him as much as she's ever loved anybody, other than Barb and Mike and her mother and Holly. And if it's not hunger -- if the closest Nancy has ever gotten to hunger for another person tends to happen in that oh-so-very, very discreet bar where Nancy can wear a perfectly-tailored suit and buy whiskey sours for girls in short skirts with no nightmares behind their eyes -- well, Nancy's never wanted most of them past the next morning anyway.

So sometimes Jonathan is on her couch and sometimes he's in her bed, and sometimes they fuck and sometimes all they do is sleep. When she needs a photojournalist, he's never once let her down. When she has nightmares, she wakes up just as terrified, but it's so much easier to pull herself together with someone to pull it together for. And Nancy Wheeler has never been in love, will never be in love, but she doesn't know what it could possibly have to offer that she could want more than that.

.

Does Nancy like her life? Wrong question. Stupid question. Better to ask if Nancy would have it any other way -- and well, yeah, she'd have a president who didn't sexually harass interns, a national defense budget that wasn't ten times the size of the department of education's, and a coffeemaker in the office that didn't get grounds in everything. She'd live in a world that didn't need her, find a new thing to be hungry about. Maybe she and Barb would both be on track for tenure by now.

In this world, she has half a dozen Pulitzer nominations and a Polk Award on her bookshelf. She has a locked filing cabinet full of other people's secrets and a locked safe full of her own. There's a file with her name on it somewhere in the Pentagon, although she hasn't managed to sneak in to read it yet. She's pretty sure the files on her desk about Pentagon staff are thicker.

[writingmochi]

part 1

cast: heeseung ✗ fem.reader (ft. the peeps, enhypen, and other idols)

synopsis: when you told your long-term rival and latest hook-up, heeseung, that you are pregnant with his child; you didn't expect said topic to be involved in your rivalry!

genre: romantic comedy, slice of life, coming-of-age, slow burn, drama, rivals since childhood to [redacted], college/university au, pregnancy au, future parents au, fluff, angst, mature content (explicit smut)

word count: 24198 (24.2k) out of 60550 (60.5k)

warning(s): pregnancy (what did you expect?), so many curse words!, description of explicit sex (in a flashback sense), rough sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, manhandling, vomiting, mention of drugs (marijuana, alcohol), mention of blood, dark humor (if there is something that i forgot, let me know)

message of the moon: remember that this story is fiction and do be careful and read the warnings at the top. all the idols mentioned here are not what they are in real life.

first fic of 2024! i've ideated this since like 2022 and it's here what the heck!! this is part 1 of 2 of a 57k-58k word count one-shot (yes, this is supposed to be a one-shot) but tumblr hates me so i have to divide it into two. thanks for the 200+ notes on the teaser/character intro and i hope you enjoy it!

soundtrack (spoilers for part 2!) | part 2

prologue: a town called valentine

it was valentine 2002 when you and heeseung first met. well, if you consider babies who can’t even talk to each other will know of each other. you have to thank both of your moms for that—getting pregnant around the same time and giving birth in the same year as well.

but the earliest—vivid—memory you have of him was on valentine 2005. you hid behind your mama’s leg as she talked with someone: another adult. you glance around the outside space you’re in, the plants and pathway unknown to you as mama can see your eyes wander with your tiny mouth agape when you look past the other adult to recognize the widening door right beside them. you heard your mother giggling with the other person as they converse about something your 4-year-old mind wouldn’t be able to understand.

“(y/n) sweetie! say hi to auntie.” your mama caresses your hair with her hand as she guides you to stand beside her, her hands moving behind your small set of shoulders before you. the small hands reached for one of hers, holding it tight as you stood beside her.

“hello…” you looked up to meet a beautiful woman. her eyes are wide as they remind you of the mother deer you last saw when you watched bambi with mama and papa. and you can feel a ticklish feeling inside you as you watch her eyes smiling softly at you. as she smiles at you softly.

“hello (y/n)! you’ve grown so much since i last met you.” her hands give a wave, making you raise your hand up as you mirror her while you pick up your mama’s chuckle. the lady moves back, extending her arm as you see a clean hallway full of photos on one side and a cabinet full of shoes on the other. some of them looking similar to your own shoe size.

“please come inside. i’ve set the toys so she can play with them if she wants.” the lady—well, auntie—said as your mama guided you inside with her trailing behind. sitting on the hidden seating area by the cabinet, she helps you take off your shoes before opening her hands to let you hold them. she lets you walk in front as both of you enter a big room with a sofa in front of a television. as per told by mama every time you enter someone’s home: sit down beside mama or papa as you waited for the homeowner to guide you next. the back of the sofa is too tall for your height now and you let your hand graze against the side of the soft sofa when you encounter a large mat laid in between the sofa and the screen.

your brain tingles when you find a few toys you can name—like the ones you own back home—while a few of them you don’t recognize at all. eyes on the toys, you throw away whatever your mama has told you and tug her hand to let her know the existence of them. looking up, she looks down at you, glance at the pile of toys left behind, and gives nods, making you grin as you both sit on the playmat. your eyes immediately look at blocks stacked shaping like a house; its triangle roof, square walls, four windows, and door makes you easily imagine it. you crawl towards it and the box beside it, finding the other blocks left behind as you pull some of them out to make your own little house. as you slowly stack up the blocks—hearing the sound of wood tapping against each other—you heard the sound of giggling coming from behind the sofa.

“sorry, he just finished taking a bath.” auntie said to your mom who was behind you, walking closer to the sofa as you turned your head to face her. that’s when you see another person walking into the room with a small pitter-patter heard behind them. the steps are getting louder and louder as you see a small figure enter the room, walking towards the person laughing. the person wipes his face with his small hand before pausing, turning his head to you.

“hi heeseung!” you heard your mama say as the boy’s laugh slows down and he looks at you and your mama. auntie, who now looks more like the bigger version of the boy, steps in to help him move and sit down beside you. you see him crouch down as you can see his face clearer. yet, his eyes wander on the house made of blocks—his house—and the house you’re making; wider by one block than his.

“that’s (y/n). you were too young to remember but auntie and i always bring you two to playdates since you’re not even one year old. she’s the same age as you.” you heard auntie say as you felt your mama help you to scoot closer. his hand reaches for the box of blocks as you place the final block on your house while he’s pulling out more blocks. you look at the boy’s action as you feel mama, with her larger hand, holding onto your smaller one. your palm is now open as you see heeseung was told to do the same by his mom, putting away the blocks on the mat. your hands meet each other as you say your name. mama helps in closing your fingers, wrapping your hand in his as he follows.

“my name is (y/n).” the boy’s hand also uses the same force when you shake it. both women let go of their children’s hands as both of your little hands are floating, connected, and shaking. your eyes meet his as he looks back at the two houses made of blocks.

“my name is heeseung.” he smiles.

-

1. stay soft, silly

the way the corner of his mouth twitches makes you think outside of the plan you are executing now, nearly done in telling him what he needs to know.

your hands rested on top of your stomach, feeling a little bulge that was not there a month ago. his ice americano contrasts with your hot jasmine tea as you sit across from each other. years upon years of history went on pause for this moment. for a truce that you are proposing.

“and they’re mine?” heeseung sounded. your eyebrows folded, looking down at the swollen part beneath your stomach as you pouted your lips, holding back your giggling as you glanced back at him.

“i haven’t had sex with anyone this past month besides you. so, yeah. the baby is yours.”

it’s funny, you see. with the amount of carefulness you and your friends have taught you of the college hook-up culture you got roped into, you never expected to hook up with your rival. yet tension does what tension does, and it snaps as you both stumbled to kiss each other.

when it comes to your “relationship” with heeseung, the closest to a positive one was when you were in kindergarten, as you’ve known him before by the amount of playdates both of your mothers set up.

little did they know that one time at a playground during one of those playdates, you were left alone to play with your sandcastles as heeseung ventured to play with the other boys, running around the sandpit playing tag and how you see the familiar little jeans pants walks in front of you, knocking the castle down and flying the specks of sand to your face with your slower reaction speed—because of your younger age—not making you close your eyelids quicker. your eyes watering as you wail out, getting the attention of your mama but not the jean-wearing boy’s attention as you hear his mom telling him to stop. apologizing is simple for your younger self, just a plain “sorry” is okay. but when lee heeseung—who you consider your friend at that time—said “sorry” with a grin on his face, you caught onto the impression that he was not sorry at all.

at age 7, you came back from the cafeteria to your class to find heeseung and his gang of boys pulling on a girl’s hair, the familiar sadness showing on her face as you caught her eyes. you’ve known that they’ve played “dirty” and have been teasing other girls in your class before—just not you, which is strange in itself. with a tense set of hands, you push the boys away with your might and stand in between them, helping the girl who cowers behind you. you look down to watch heeseung on the floor, teeth showing and face crunched as he sees the scratch from when you pushed him near his elbow.

“what was that for?”

“to stop you. she doesn’t like it.”

one of his boys helps to pick him up on his feet as you can see him limping. your arms still wide as you protect the girl as best as you can. he pushes his sweaty bangs off his face as you can define the same gaze he had given you when you were 5 at the playground, now fiery. and you exude the same thing with your glare as you see the other boys helping carry him out to the nurse's office, his eyes staying on yours as you feel the girl’s hand holding you back from not walking after him again.

stickers become score markers as you and he tried to compete to get the most out of them, which comes with being nice and clever during classes. you were 10 when you had the same class as him once again, having to compete to be the quickest when raising your hands. but also the lowly giggles you give each other as you both realize just how wrong each other’s answers that comes with the teasing annoyance. it also comes in gym class as the teacher divided you up into different teams during team games—basketball being the most competitive as you are familiar with it. heeseung doesn’t hesitate to run towards you if you have a ball and try to dribble it across the court, pulling it as you try to pass it to your teammate, resulting in a tug-of-war where you both just don’t want to let it go. even with the whistling from the teacher as one teammate gets a hold of it to continue the game, you instead continue to have a screaming match with him.

it continues through middle school as you remember him not hesitating with his power to slam his dodgeball at your stomach during another gym class, making you curl up on the floor as your friends help you to the nurse's office, hearing him screaming “that’s what you get from stealing my lunch” as you remembered the taste of the chocolate bread you pick up from his tray yesterday. at high school as you and him argue in front of the vice principal about each of your club’s fundings, him with his basketball club who is already so successful with their winnings money that they can’t seem to let go to help other clubs who are staying afloat. even with your school having pride in the basketball team and other sports club achievements—making it a staple for the students to watch at least one game during their high school years. you never went to one as you rather babysit your neighbor’s kid for money than watch heeseung’s smug smile as he won another mvp trophy for that tournament.

when college came and you got into hybe uni as a business major, you didn’t expect to see heeseung on campus. you’ve known that since he focuses more on basketball in middle school, you are winning when it comes to academics. but when his smirking face tells you he got into hybe with a full scholarship because of basketball, your heart plummets into the fathoms. you were glad that he’s not in the same faculty as you, but the college environment is so small that your acquaintances recognize each other. you can’t seem to stay away from him who still has his smart for balancing his gpa and non-academic activities.

so when your lips met his own as you sobered up after having the party busted by the police, your mind is telling you to out-better him in lust and pleasure.

“who can make each other cum the most? never thought of you as that filthy, (l/n)”

the grip of his hair on your hand tightens as he trails his own to get a grip of yours. both of your heads now straight as you can’t look away from each other even if you want to.

“i take that you’re saying that because you don’t know how to make girls cum with your dick, lee.” you chuckled. heeseung’s gaze is still meeting yours as he pushes your head forward, making your forehead touch his as he mumbles something only you can hear.

“i know i can make you cum on my dick just by the way you’re clenching your thighs, baby. how do we tally the score?”

“start a kiss on the lips when you know you can’t hold back?”

“deal.”

“by the way, who won?” heeseung asked, leaning his body forward on the table as you peer down at his position from you, holding yourself as you stretch your back to help with the pain.

“how many times did you cum? and don’t fucking lie.”

heeseung’s bed is rocking beneath you as he folds you up in half, your knees on either side of you as he pounds into you. gasps fall out of your mouth as you pull on his hair, something you realize he likes after the amount of groan coming out of him from when you tug him. praises come out of your mouth as you try every method you can to turn him on first; to make him cum first. but the way he is pushing down on your abdomen makes you clench harder.

“look at how you’re clenching onto me. you’re close, aren’t you?” he whispered as you felt the breeze blowing onto your saliva-stained neck you are certain had hickeys on it. heeseung had to remind himself that he couldn’t kiss your lips, no matter how delectable they were, changing to kissing your neck.

“n-“ you moan as heeseung’s hand traces down to grip your ribcage, pulling you closer to him so he could find another angle to reach you deeper, pleasuring you both in return. “no.”

“don’t lie to me, (y/n).” his head pulls back from your crook as you watch his bangs faltering from the hard pounding to his mattress. “god, you’re so fucking hot when you’re under me.”

“fuck, just like that.” you retaliate with your own dirty talk, hands holding his waist so he could stay longer in your cavern as you grip him. but when you sense his breath against your skin, nose upon nose touching, the grip on his waist trails up as you cup his face. nodding your head as you feel him getting faster, you pull his head down and make his lips meet yours. you bit your bottom lip as your muffled moans vibrated between the two of you. your body giving up for a moment as he continued to thrust into you, making you let go as you let out a silent scream when you felt the moist gushing against him inside you. heeseung’s lips are unhesitant to kiss between your eyebrows as your body calms down from shaking, eyes rolling back to their original place as you continue to caress his cheekbone before a surge of energy comes back to you. you push him to the side, placing him down on the mattress as your hands grab both of his wrists to rest beside his head.

“i can feel you twitching inside me, hee. i know you’re close,” you said as you bounce on his lap, feeling the way your essence fell out and how much slick is on his penis because of you. as you have the upper hand, you decide to tease him by falling on him slower than the pace you have familiarized, making his wrists flinched under your hold as you click your tongue.

“you like how my walls are sucking you?”

“fuck, yes,” he mumbled under his breath.

“yeah..?” you replied as you leaned forward, making heeseung reach up to kiss your areola as best as he could.

“come on. you don’t wanna cum again?” heeseung asked in such a whiny voice that makes you snicker at how needy he has become. you decide to continue your teasing when you trail your nose along his face as you give a tiny kiss underneath his earlobe where you see the hickey you made on his clavicle. you move your hips so slowly as you feel how he becomes more erect even when he’s inside you.

“you’re the one who denies it yourself. i’m currently helping you here.” you poke your tongue and trace down his adam’s apple to his chest, reaching his nipple and giving it a suck. heeseung’s hip shoots up into you as he wants to take control. your hand moving closer to his palm with the grip that is getting loose as he pushes both his arms to let go of your hold. yet, you pull them back up as you reposition your fingers to interlock with his, withholding what he wants to make you move faster as he thrusts up into you.

you stare at how his doe-like eyes are begging for you after the number of times you have hated and feared the same eyes. how it glistens with tears because of how uncooperative you are even with your pace getting faster. with that, you lean forward as you stretch his hands and place them on your moving hips, letting them go so he can grip it hard as he tries to chase that feeling once again. you drape yourself above him as his blown-out eyes stare right at yours, his orange fiery flame meeting your own blue.

leaning forward more as you sensed one of his hands resting on your back, you brush away his hair that is sticking on his forehead as you whispered the death blow.

“you can cum in me-“

he leans up to connect your lips with his as you understand the signal, making your hips help to stimulate him more. his tongue flicking out and even wetting the skin around your lips as he moans out your name, letting out an exhale as your forehead is on his.

“want to breed you…” he whispered as you nodded, knowing just how much you like cum staining your walls as you give him a peck.

“breed me then.”

as he spoke to you about when he cums in your walls cowgirl style, you couldn’t help but snicker at the memories of his newly known breeding kink and your own creampie kink makes the resulting bun in your oven, making him flick your hand as you stare at him.

“that’s one for you and one for me- what are you thinking?” the way his voice pitches up at the end of the question makes you giggle even more.

“i swear-“ you lean forward as you realize the stage you are in, “the way our kinks create them,” you point down to your stomach.

“with the way your body shivers when i cum in you,” he said as he also leans forward. “i knew you like it. but i didn’t realize how feral you got because of that.”

“how feral we got, heeseung. fucking correct that.”

“oh fuck!” you moaned out into the mattress as heeseung held your hips up when he thrusts back into you from behind. you can sense how every time he pounds into you, his release is coming out alongside him as the wet clapping noises penetrate even the sound of both the cricketing bed frame and both of your moans. his hand goes up to your head and pulls your hair as the other pushes against your stomach, making you bend back towards him as the moans you let out of your mouth are clearer. his lips sucking another hickey onto your shoulder as you lean your head back on him to widen his access. your hands gripping onto both of the hands that are now resting on your abdomen and one on your breast, respectively.

“who can make you feel like this?” the question triggering you right away.

“y-you.”

“say my name, baby,” he said as he kissed your cheeks, making you turn your head towards the side as you opened your eyes to meet his, continuing to pleasure you into oblivion.

“heeseung…”

“go on.” he squeezed your flesh and you bit your bottom lip.

“heeseung!”

the hand on your abdomen leaves to crawl to your nub as your free hand reaches up to his nape, letting you connect your lips with his as best as you can. your body doing gymnastics before it is overcome by your second wave of cum when heeseung stops and twist your upper body to connect both of your lips fully. with his hands enveloping you, you push both of your body down as you let him spoon you.

grinding your hips against him, you reached down to gather both your cums as you give it a lick, making heeseung groan as he helps you push against him. “fuck, (y/n), how are you still so tight?”

“only for you-“ you reply as you shift away, just wanting to kiss heeseung, but then you remember the rules. with your shoulder, you push heeseung so he lays back on the bed as you lie on top of him. your knees folding so you can put your heels on the mattress as you lift yourself up and down on his shaft. you push your hands against is so you can sit and let you see the messiness yourself: both of your thighs are now covered in whiteness as you continue, realizing how sticky your skins are against each other. instead of letting you observe the messiness, heeseung pulls your upper body back to his as he also folds his knees and pushes his heels to the bed, thrusting upwards and making the pace quicker.

both of your moans combine with each other as he rests his arms around your midriff so you can’t move away from him. your head tilts to look behind you at the way heeseung is closing his eyes. as the point of your nose touches his skin, he doesn’t hesitate to turn to you and brought your lips onto his as he gives a few sputtering thrusts before you felt him cumming in you once again, making you fuller than ever.

“and that’s another two for each of us,” you replied as heeseung let out a snicker.

“still a tie, huh?”

“yeah, but we decided on a tiebreaker, right?” he responded with a hum.

with how sweaty, sticky, and tired you both are, you decide to do a tiebreaker with you sitting on his lap in a lotus position. your breath meeting his as both of you work in tandem (with a little burst exerted once in a while) to make any of you cum first and declare to be the winner of this messed-up game you made. heeseung licks the skin below your neck and plays with your breasts as you let your fingers experiment with his nipples and the way your nails scratch against his back muscles. you know that both of you are exhausted because the only sound that comes out is the small moans and whines left over. you looked down to see the messy environment you made between both of your crotches, making you scoop it up as you lift your cum-covered forefinger to your mouth, sucking it in, before pulling heeseung’s head so you can let him taste both of you.

his wide eyes glance up at you as he puts on a show to make you turn on more, swirling his tongue around your middle finger as the hand that was holding your shoulder blade reaches to your face, making his thumb pressing against your bottom lip so you can suck it. your hips grind on him faster, bouncing a few times, as both of your moans are muffled by both of your fingers. pulling your finger back, a string of saliva connected it and his lips as you cup his cheek. heeseung bites his lip as he pulls the thumb out to see your swollen lips. as you stare at each other—thinking back to the past few hours that have gotten you here in this position—you sense something strange within you. something so unfamiliar when you stare at him than the other moments you blatantly glare towards him. with the way he glances around your face as he connects your forehead with his, you recognize he might have sensed the same things too.

you don’t remember who is the first one to reach out, but as both of your lips connect, you let yourself envelop him as he did you. both of you not stopping and helping each other out as both of you cum in quick succession. not letting go of each other’s lips as you both pull away slowly; looking at the string of saliva connecting both of you as you stare at each other.

“we don’t need to discuss that.”

“no, we don’t,”

both of you replied right after the other as you see heeseung looking away from you to glance at the window beside the table. you glance at the condensation forming on the glass of his americano before glimpsing towards the booth where he sat. a duffle bag beside his backpack; you guess it will be for his basketball practice, it is near the college basketball season after all. but as you glance up at the man himself—you notice how different he has been since you were children. the way he muscled up and the baby fat on his face sheds away from the amount of sports he has to consume weekly. but, with all the invisible scars you both inflicted on each other from then until now, you weigh in just how ridiculously complex your relationship is that you don’t know if he wants to agree with it or not.

“well, now that you know…” you started, rubbing your hand against your sweater paws, “you don’t have to contribute to their life.”

heeseung hums, turning back to look towards you with confusion written on his face.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to get involved in taking care of them. it’s hard enough to be a senior-year college student, let alone raising a baby. it’s my choice to keep them, so i have to take responsibility for that.” you grabbed the now lukewarm cup of tea as you take a sip from it, placing it gently on the small plate as you continued with, “especially knowing how complicated we are.” you use your forefinger to point between him and you.

the man’s face is hard to read. he jutted his lips, biting the inside of his cheek as you see him blink whilst looking towards you, trying to get a read on you as well. being 8 weeks pregnant, you just wanted the meeting to end because you have all the other things you need to organize: telling the girls about your pregnancy diets and symptoms, telling the university about them and maybe they could give you leeway with the tests and studies, setting up appointments for with the ob-gyn and the doula of your choice, and telling your parents.

your parents who knew heeseung’s parents.

this will be awkward as fuck to experience.

“and i wish we could have a truce for the next 40 weeks.” you said, already with an exasperated voice that seemed to even surprise heeseung. “with this lifelong rivalry going on and how both of us doesn’t even want it to stop, please just… give me a slack to take care of them as best as i could.”

when you expected heeseung to reply with an okay—knowing your status as an expecting mother to at least give you some slack—you were met with a piercing gaze instead. how he looks between your face and your hidden stomach behind the table. he rests his hand on the table when you watch him considering something, and you didn’t even fucking guess he will do what he does.

“no.”

“what?”

“no. there’s no truce.” he leans forward, recognizing the gaze in his eyes as you just want to punch it out of his face for even thinking about what he’s thinking.

“no fucking way you’re thinking about this.”

“why not, (y/n)? think you can’t take care of yourself enough for the baby?”

your palm is now against your forehead, brushing against your face as it trails down when you let out a groan, “you’re trying to make a rivalry on taking care of this baby…” you let out your guess as heeseung lets out his signature smirk and a voiceless ‘bingo’.

“how? they’re in me, heeseung.”

“by giving them good nutritious food, interacting with them, i don’t know. but i know from knowing you for years that you can’t take care of yourself, knowing you have three other roommates-“

“you also have three other fucking roommates. sheesh.” you shake your head as you lean back. “anything for the baby has to go through me first, you know? i can deny it if i want.”

“then we can argue who’s right. they’re my baby too and i have the right to be involved even if you don’t want to.” your phone vibrates after heeseung’s brash reply as you see the silent alarm of your next schedule of the day. you tug the strap of your bag to your shoulder and gulp the rest of your tea.

“whatever, i have another thing to do.”

“does it involve the baby?”

“no. unless you wanna join my research class.”

you stood up from the booth as you straightened your sweater down, making heeseung glance at your abdomen before looking back at your face. “just so you remember: i’m doing this for the baby, not you.”

rolling your eyes, you flip him the bird as you walk away from him to your only class of the day, making heeseung let out a strangled smile.

-

“what the- what do you mean?”

the game continues as the other three guys look towards heeseung who is obliterating them with his king dedede, the sound of the fighting comes from the tv of their living room apartment as his fingers nimbly move on the switch controller, making the other three characters fly from the platforms as the familiar “game!” announcement calls.

the boys are sitting in various ways; beomgyu and jeongin are on the floor and jimin is beside him. the soundtrack of the super smash bros ultimate is playing in the background as heeseung smiles.

“i’m gonna be a dad.”

jeongin, the closest to the main port of the switch, quits the game as beomgyu lets out another loud shout—outside of the game—and jimin, who is sitting besides him, shakes his body with outstretched arms.

“BROOO!” beomgyu rubs his hand across his long hair as he faces heeseung fully, who is regretting not recording the reaction of his best buddies about this.

“how does heeseung, who doesn’t even like hooking up, get someone pregnant?” jimin asks to himself but also to the others as jeongin now stands in front of him, shielding the tv from his sight.

“forget that. who did you knock up, lee heeseung?” jeongin cuts through as heeseung leans back against the headrest of the couch. a mix of expressions showing on his face cause he doesn’t know if he has to laugh, be angry, be sad, or what else. he lets out a sigh as he picks the right voice tone to tell them.

“it’s fucking (y/n).”

“okay, now hold on!”

jeongin jumps, shedding the stern aura that he just created a few seconds ago. heeseung glances down at beomgyu who has his jaw dropped with jimin gripping on heeseung’s shoulder very hard.

“SINCE WHEN DID YOU TWO HOOK U-“

“shush!” jimin stands up and covers his hand on jeongin’s mouth, not wanting another complaint from the neighbors both horizontally and vertically.

“when?” beomgyu asked jeongin’s questions concisely as heeseung glanced towards the sofa and the kitchen right beside the front door of their apartment.

“you remember the party that got busted by the police?”

“yoon keeho’s party?”

“yeah, that one.” jimin acknowledges beomgyu’s answer as heeseung continues.

“long story short, (y/n) was alone and i went past her, teasing her for seeing that her friends left her behind when the police showed. she was tipsy which she shows by how easily stumbles. so i dragged her with me to our apartment when we escaped. i don’t know where you guys were, but she’s gotten a bit too annoying so i have to sober her up. we talked, and the tension was just too…” heeseung remembers as he was the one reaching for your face, to tell you to shut the fuck up, but the tension melted away before both of you proposes the game that you did. “so, we did it. and she asked me to meet up this morning and told me the news.”

“and what are your thoughts?” jimin asks, making the high-stakes emotions lower as he lets his friend talk about what he is feeling.

well, for heeseung, shock was an understatement. when he heard you utter the three words to him as he asked you what makes you want to meet up, never did he expect that to come out. surely, he has a breeding kink, and he had expected that to happen. but you told him you’re leaving early to get a plan b pill. maybe it didn’t work, but he doesn’t want to assume much about your body. then, he can sense the hidden sheer happiness blossoming within him. he wanted to smile and give you a hug, but then he remembered that it was you. that outside of his bed that night, you didn’t see him as a friend.

for someone who doesn’t hook up with people, heeseung knows how the hook-up culture works. he had heard multiple women fucking his three roommates from within his room and he could use his noise-canceling headphones against them. people might presume he is picky—a basketball jock who stays hidden and doesn’t want to hook up with anyone unlike his younger teammates—but the level of comfort is different when he has to do it with someone he doesn’t know and that’s why he rather stayed away. you? well, you are an anomaly.

though close because of your upbringing, he doesn’t know you outside of what he knows. that you were the kid who broke his truck even after he said sorry for ruining your sandcastle at that playground. that you were the kid who pushed him to the floor back when you were 7. that you’re the girl who he competes with to get the most stickers and not letting go of the basketball even though he stole it from you correctly. that he saw you stealing the bread from his tray as he came back from the vending machine. that you were the one telling the vice principal his basketball club doesn’t need as much money as they do because of their successful run, not knowing that their assistant coach stole the winning money.

so when you decide to create walls from your words, try to spin it so he doesn’t have to care about his baby, he had to say no. it’s as if you’re trying to keep the baby to yourself and not letting him in even though it takes two to tango. so, he found the most relevant way: competing for who takes care of that baby the right way—even if they’re in you. he doesn’t even think far from that thought no matter how ridiculous it is as now he realizes what a logistical nightmare it’s going to be.

“you’re making a game out of taking care of your own child but not your baby mama?” jeongin questioned after hearing heeseung’s rambling about this.

“yup…” heeseung paused, a pregnant pause. “and i need all of your help.”

jimin’s face changes as he hears the way heeseung described his face, rubbing his palm against the creases forming on his forehead as he can’t comprehend how beomgyu easily accepts his role. jimin’s head perks up at heeseung calling his name.

“yo!” jimin replied.

“since you’re the only one out of us who has a direct connection to (y/n) through chaeryeong, you’ll be my eyes, okay? asked about (y/n), how she’s doing, and all that stuff.” heeseung nodded as he expectantly looked at the boy who stood beside jeongin.

“gotcha,” he replied, his eyes wide as heeseung turned towards jeongin.

“innie, you’re my source. find any article about pregnancy and what my role is gonna be as a dad. yadda yadda yadda. all that stu-“

“i do you one better, seung.” jeongin said as heeseung lifted his eyebrows at him, tilting his head.

“my mom is an ob-gyn doctor.”

-

“miss (y/n)!”

“wear this!”

there is sounds of pitter-patters all around you as you sense the weight getting heavier on your figure. a small cape hanging off your shoulders and a crooked crown on your head, you sit down cross-legged against a round table full of toy food and kitchen utensils. girls and boys alike sit on the chairs by the table with their own capes and crowns, playing around with their cups as they all have a tea party—with the other side of the room playing with legos.

“here is your tea and cake.” you see the girl beside you giving the plate of rubber cake and an empty tea cup.

“thank you, princess rami.” picking up the teacup into your hand, you let out a loud slurping noise to drink it, before flinching away as you fan your tongue.

“i’m so sorry. is it too hot?” rami asked as you shook your head.

“i’m okay. thank you for asking,” you replied as best as you could.

“you must be careful, princess rami.” the boy across from her spoke as you tilt your head to him.

“i’m alright. prince yujin. i will be more careful with the tea.” he gave out a smile as one girl called out.

“if we are all princes and princesses, how should we call miss (y/n)?” hyunseo asked across from you.

“well, miss (y/n) should be a queen!” woonhak replied enthusiastically.

“but if miss (y/n) is a queen, should she have a king?” hyunseo continued.

“or another queen. i have two queens at home.” yujin filled in as you gave off a smile with the implication. but then the kids started to bicker with each other as you looked around the room once again.

as you entered high school, you were determined to beat heeseung in another way other than school-related activities. and what other way by being independent and richer than him at a young age? so you raked your head of a simple work that can help you gain more pocket money when one of your aunts asks you if you can babysit their daughter and how she will pay you. seizing the opportunity, you get to take care of your baby cousin as you go to your aunt’s home to help her with her food and stuff. hearing your enjoyment by the dining room table, your mom suggests more opportunities to babysit children of your family members from both sides—to your youngest uncle’s 4-year-old son and your oldest cousin’s 6-month-old baby—you have an array of skills gotten from doing childcare as your mom recommend you to babysit her juniors’ children at work, making you who wanted it for the money now wants it for the children.

it needs a certain level of charisma to charm a child so they can listen to you and with the array of children you had to babysit, you’ve met and adapted as best as you can to all of them. from being the calm tutor for a baby who is training his motor skills to help a child practice balancing on a bicycle, you understand what a child wants under their tantrums. that love you give and the love you accept makes you want to contribute more to childcare. so you started volunteering in non-formal schools and orphanages, helping to at least make their days a little better. and that’s why you worked part-time as a daycare attendant since you entered university as it is a more established institution where you can shuffle your study schedule alongside your work schedule, meeting kids who are being sent here that are still younger than school age. it reminded you of your own childhood and you’re hoping that your inner child could be happy and satisfied that you let her feel that feeling again.

“guys…” your spoken voice cuts their conversations, and they all turn to you. “a queen doesn’t have to have a king or another queen by their side. a queen can stand alone too.”

“but wouldn’t that make the queen lonely?” rami questioned, making you pout your lips as you still can’t comprehend just how blatantly honest children are that it pierces through each layer of your heart to find the right spot.

“yes, the queen will be lonely. but she also has her princes, princesses, knights, counselors, and more around her. love doesn’t always come from one person, it can also come from a group.” you replied, making the group rowdy up as they converse about love and being independent—well, ‘lonely’ as they called it—when you feel a light pat on your shoulder.

turning your head, you see a younger girl other than those around the table holding a paper, stretching it towards you.

“for you, miss (y/n)…”

you slowly pick the paper from her small hands as you observe the drawing. a simple figure made of circles and triangles with different colors. a pink filled-in shape on one side of the triangle with the circle-shaped and another taller one holding the figures hand, a yellow crown-shaped drawing on top of a circle with a smiling face inside.

she drew you.

“awww. this is so sweet and nice.” you return to look at the younger girl, a warm smile showing on your face, “thank you, hyein.” you rub your hand on her hair—something you remember she likes—as her smile widens before she runs away towards her table, where she has a few more papers scattered.

you glance at her before looking at your own stomach, unconsciously rubbing it as you can feel your own child inside you now growing along with time. then, it all came so suddenly when you felt yourself regurgitating, hand coming up to your mouth as you stood up as fast as you could towards the staff bathroom. knocking open the door of the open stall, you kneeled down as you puke out your lunch for today, feeling your gag reflexes kicking in. you sensed a hand soothing down your back as you reached for the flush to drain it down the toilet bowl.

“you okay, (y/n)?” you hear the familiar voice of your supervisor, yoonah, behind you. nodding your head, you reach for the toilet paper and tear it apart as you wipe the remains and saliva off your lips. reaching for the crown that fortunately doesn’t fall when you puke your inside, you hold on to it as you stand up and veer around to the sink to clean your mouth, gargling and spitting out as you wipe the droplets of water from your lips.

“how is it going with the pregnancy?” she asked as you watched her reflection behind yours in the mirror. you nodded your head and chuckled.

“didn’t vomit for the past three days and i thought that was enough, and well, here i am.” you stare at your face, seeing your eyes glistening with tears with the number of times you had to cough out until your phlegm came out. you turn your head to face your boss as she gives you a solemn smile.

“so, i have already talked to hr and we agree to have you reduce your work day to just one per week. you can enter anytime between the weekdays depending on your schedule because you have lots of things to juggle with your ob-gyn appointment. we don’t want to weigh you down more.”

you looked sideways when yoonah didn’t seem to see you being glad of it. though it helps with not exerting your body—as per doctor park’s request—it will definitely reduce your money because of the appointments and others. you haven’t told your parents yet and maybe you can ask them for more money after but with the way your friends have already helped ease your part of the rent so you have enough money for your own diet and consultations; you don’t want them to provide more for you.

“that’s great and all, but what about my pay? can it be adjusted? it doesn’t have to be 200%. like, do I only work one day for a pay of two like usual? or is it the regular one day pay? if it’s the latter, maybe a 25% increase will be great? for the consultations and others…” you said, not realizing that you had a few stray tears leaving out your eyes. nice fucking job, hormones.

yoonah picks up the crown from your head and she places it above your head, straightening it up as it rests right at the top of your head, “i will take about it to hr. you know that i’m on your side with this.” she pats your shoulder as you let out a faint “thank you” and see her walking away out of the bathroom. you brushed the tears away as you wet your hands to help unswollen them, even if it is for a bit. staring at yourself in the mirror, you pull your body up straight as you turn sideways, rubbing your abdomen as you can feel the life being put into you; piece by piece, cell by cell, forming into a human being.

as your feet enter the room one by one, tons of footsteps greet you as you look down to see the crown-wearing kids you are playing tea time with approaching you. their faces showing weariness so explicitly that you feel your heart tugging at them.

“are you ok, miss (y/n)?” hyein—the first one to be there—spoke as she was surrounded by kids taller and older than her. you notice someone holding onto your hand with their tiny one, seeing rami brushing the skin as you feel soothed.

“i am now. thank you, hyein,” you replied, letting your body fall as you kneeled before them, seeing the number of children you have taken care of for the years you had worked here. in your mind, it seemed ridiculous to think of your next move, but in a way that they have taught you so much about taking care of others, it’s proper to tell them yourself.

wiping the corner of your eyes as you feel your hormones acting up again, you speak, “what do you know about your moms?”

“mommy is very sweet to me,” hyunseo replies as she steps forward to stand next to hyein, their height difference looking so cute.

“mom is the one that picked me up from here.” woonhak also replied when you can see his mom’s smile on his own from the number of times she picked him up and showed that same smile.

“both of my mamas are the best in taking care of me and my brothers.” yujin added as there were more children rambling about their mothers, creating a wall of cacophony that seemed more like the background noise you heard each week as you worked. their voices dwindled as you looked expectantly at them one by one, a smile urging them to wait for something to come out of you.

“well, you see, i’m going to be just like your moms.”

yujin was the one that caught on first as he stepped closer and hugged you. while the others still looked confused, he turned around to looked at them and state it himself.

“MISS (Y/N) IS GOING TO BE A MOM!”

“miss (y/n)!”

“no wa-“

you heard the surge of children hugging you as you laughed out loud, seeing yoonah by the door as she also followed your laughter while you were surrounded by the children who were either hugging you or asking you questions.

“settle down, children. miss (y/n) needs a space to take a breather.” yoonah spoke up as she approached you who has a grin on your face.

“you said that you don’t have any king or queen?” yujin said as you felt your cheeks getting warmer, he now held onto the crown that slipped down your head from the number of kids that is surrounding you. while you could feel a hand on your stomach as you looked down to see hyein sitting down—remembering that she also has a pregnant mother with a little sibling on the way for her.

“it, it will be hard for me to explain it to you, but…” you felt yoonah’s hand on your shoulder as you glance at the closest clock in the room—finding the time for them to go home has come. “your moms are waiting for you to go home.”

you push yourself up to stand as yoonah guides the kids to pick their items up by the cabinets as you stand up straight, seeing the children walking around you when you see rami stepping beside you, arms wide open as you crouch down to give her a hug. you felt other sets of arms surrounding you as you giggled, pulling away your arms as the children noticed it.

“i’ll see you all next week!” you stated as yoonah brought all of them to the door of the daycare before opening them, seeing all of them going to their respective parents and guardians as a few of them acknowledged you. you turned around as you started your usual clean-up process, picking up the drawings that the children made and putting them in their own folders so you can give them to their guardians when they graduated, putting back the toys into the boxes, returning the costumes back to the wardrobe as you place the robe and crown you were also wearing, and you wanted to do one more thing, but you heard someone clearing their throat.

“i’ll clean the furniture and floor. you have done so much and you needed to eat and rest.” yoonah told you as you sighed, knowing that you seemed to be hungrier after you vomited out your food.

“thanks, boss.” you winked as she chuckled, bringing yourself to the staff room with the drawing that hyein gave to you—pinning in your mind to collect it with the drawings the kids you’ve taken care has made for you.

when collecting your things into your backpack, you glance at the paper that you printed out from your laptop as you scan the words, seeing your inked signature on the bottom as you see the blank space with the name right across from yours. heeseung’s name.

since he decided to be involved—you remembered while you talked to your faculty about your pregnancy and how they asked who the dad was, you decided to bring him up as a “student from another faculty.” it might make him think twice if he wants to be involved or not because he will get his name pin up on a note somewhere, which will be noted to his coach, lecturers, and more of his status. you are ready to be mentally burnt by the judgment your peers might give you, but is heeseung also ready?

you haven’t thought of the way you’re going to give heeseung the letter when you see minjeong’s name from your vibrating phone as you pick up the things you are bringing home and you hear yoonah talking as she sees you already leaving.

“carpool picking you up?”

“yeah, my roommate and her boyfriend.”

“okay, take care of yourself and i’ll follow up with your request.” you felt yoonah giving you a side hug as you gave a smile and wave when you pushed the door open. you breathed in the outside air to see the dark gray chevrolet camaro parked near the front of the building. walking to the back seats, you opened the door to be met with the music playing as minjeong greeted you.

“how’s work, (y/n)?” she instantly asked as sungchan lurched the car to a drive when you glanced at the bags of things beside you.

“freaking embarrassing. i vomited suddenly when i hadn’t vomited for the last 3 days but the kids reacted to it pretty okay. and i told them i’m gonna be a mom.”

“that’s so sweet!” she said, glancing back from her seat in front of you as she reached to touch you, making you sit in the middle with the console right in front of you as you see sungchan’s playing with the volume of bluetooth-connected car radio play the song that sounds so minjeong—which you can recognized right away.

“what did you guys do today?” you wiggled your eyebrows as you heard sungchan’s laugh from the way he looked at you from the rear-view mirror.

“you know what me and jeongie usually do, eat, shop, fuck, repeat-“

“no, we didn’t fuck today-“

“we did a quickie before we left to pick (y/n) up, winter.”

“okay! ughhh…” minjeong said, rubbing her face in embarrassment before replying, “i brought him to this cafe that has all these criterion collections that aren’t available on any of the streaming services we own. so i bought so many dvds for us to watch.”

“which are?”

“older movies, foreign movies. you did say that you enjoyed watching japanese movies, so i bought some of them for us to watch.”

“fuck, i love you so much for that, kim minjeong.” you replied as you heard sungchan’s little tsk, making you both giggle as his possessiveness is showing at the most ridiculous time.

“so, (y/n),” you hummed to sungchan’s starter words, “you haven’t told me who is your baby daddy.”

“guess!” you tugged yourself forward as your face was between their seats.

“how should i guess when i never see you hook up with people?” he replies as you glance at minjeong who is just watching him, an amused smile on her face.

“what if i say it’s song eunseok,” you mentioned his fellow frat bros.

“eunseok is dating that junior of his he has classes with. and he’s a loyal guy so i don’t think so.”

“what about park jisung? he’s hot in my eyes.”

“you don’t seem to be the kind to hook up with your junior,” he replied, making you squint your eyes.

“zhong chenle? he’s a fellow biz major like i do.”

“you’re definitely not his style.”

“now, that’s rude.” you hunch yourself back on the back seat as minjeong’s giggles compete with the music playing.

“you’re gonna be so shocked if we told you who he is.” she added as you nodded along, “two hints though: he’s our age and he’s a fellow jock-“

“that’s too much, jeong-ah.” you cover her mouth as her muffled nagging rings in the car. you can feel her lapping your palm, tickling your nerves and making you pull away as it’s now sungchan’s turn to have a giggling fit while watching his girlfriend and her roommate bickering. the trip was close between the daycare you work and the apartment tower you rented off-campus—but since you’ve mentioned to your roommates that you’ve been having back pain and vomiting sessions, they decided to help you out by being by your side as they drop you off or picking you up—just like what chaeryeong did as she drop you off to work before going to the dance studio.

so, when you stare out to see the small lobby of your apartment, you’re already with your backpack tucked to you as you open the door of the backseats. sungchan helped widen the door for you before going to the other side to help minjeong with the things she bought from their date. as you stood by the tiled floor of the lobby, minjeong gave sungchan one last kiss on the lips as you heard him say, “bye, babe! bye, (y/n) and hope you rest!”

“see you next week, baby.” the girl said as both you and her are waving your hands at the boy, who has entered the car driving off into the ending sunset of today. stepping inside the entrance of the apartment, you and she enter the empty elevator as you catch a glimpse at what other things minjeong had bought when you see a box from a chicken fast food brand, making your mouth water as you think about it, but you knew that you’ll be nag by dr. park for eating junk food.

pushing the handle after you put the pin on the keypad, you enter and instantly kick your shoes off as you are met with ryujin who is tying her hair up, walking towards you as she helps with minjeong’s bags. the apartment was left as you remembered this morning: a few scattered papers from either you or ryujin’s homework, the weighted blanket by the sofa now folded, and the smell of hot choco on the coffee table alongside ryujin’s laptop as you remembered that she only has online classes today.

“what did you bring?” ryujin wiggled her eyebrows as she rummaged open the bag that you’d seen when she instantly brought it to the kitchen counter when you saw her already cooking something. out of all four of you, you and ryujin are the ones talented in cooking so it’s not a surprise to see her cook for herself, but when you see the large plate that is places beside where the stove is, you know she has been making dinner for all four of you—as only chaeryeong’s the one who is not finished with her work today.

“why did you bring back fast food, minjeong? we promised to also have (y/n)’s diet.”

“that’s my leftover. chan said that the boys had too much stuff in their fridge so i brought it to us.” you then felt minjeong’s hand behind your lower back as she stood beside you, “hope you are okay with that.”

“of course, i’m okay.” you give minjeong a smile. “all of you aren’t obliged to follow my diet cause i know you love red meat, jinnie.”

“it feels wrong if i don’t follow you, though.” ryujin replied as you and minjeong go to your separate ways—she walked to her room while you stepped into the kitchen to see the food that minjeong brought. the chicken was a leftover but you also see her bringing back different meats and seafood.

“i almost forgot to ask you, but can you give me the list of the food that you can and can’t eat? just so i can help with the recipes and so we can pre-made food.” ryujin said as she put her arms behind your back, soothing you as you viewed her making japchae and beef on the pan.

“will do, ryu.” you give her a salute as she gives your cheek a squeeze before you let her be. taking your bag handle as you step towards the direction of your room, the bell of your apartment rings as ryujin turns towards you, making both of you tilt your head as you volunteer to get to the intercom.

when you press the button, the screen shows you someone you don’t expect to see as you can recognize the wolf cut hair you’ve seen while scrolling on your instagram. your footsteps immediately go to the door as you hear the ringing “hello”s from the intercom, opening it up to see the boy you’re trying your best to mask your feelings for with a box.

“heyya, (y/n)!” he replied as you widened the door to gaze at the box.

“h-hi beomgyu.” you give him a small smile as you try your best not to lock your eyes on him. to be having a crush on a boy like him is ridiculous, especially knowing that he is your RIVAL’s best friend. and the fact that you still have a crush on him since high school to then be found being in the same uni as him. if he doesn’t have heeseung by his side, you know you will brace yourself to approach him first. but now with his success as an indie musician, you know you are probably in a losing battle knowing just how spicy heeseung talks about you knowing that he has so many fans aiming at him and how you can’t compete with them—not as much as yeonjun though.

“wha, what’s this?”

“it’s for you.” he pushed the box towards you as you tried to peek inside when you felt a presence behind you.

“let me get that.” another pair of hands open by your side and you see the smirk on beomgyu’s face falter to see ryujin pulling the box against her.

“hi ryujin,” he said, a slight tremble in his voice as you finally be able to look at him with your heart eyes before back at ryujin.

“beomgyu,” she replied before leaving the door to put the box away. you eye the boy who is staring at the empty space for a few seconds too late before you are back in his attention, returning to the cheeky smile you adore.

“thank you for that!” you felt your palms getting sweatier than ever, rubbing one of them against the door to dry it.

“you gotta have to thank heeseung for that.”

the way beomgyu named he-who-shall-not-be-named shutters your fantasy as you were met with the reality. of course, it’s from heeseung, not from the boy you had a crush on—even if it means that the baby daddy trusts his best friend so much to tell him that he is having a baby with his rival. beomgyu seemed to be the nicer guy between the two. so, a girl can hope, right?

“oh yeah, wait for a minute!” you were so caught up in the way heeseung terrors you and slips back into your mind and how you wanted to slam the door when you heard his name when you remembered the paper that he had to sign. you pull the paper out of your folder as you pull one of your sticky notes and write a simple note to him. giving a smile to beomgyu, you handed him the paper as he stared at the words printed on it.

“give it to heeseung and send it back to me after that, or if he wants to submit it himself, then that’s fine. i have to give the contact person the info if he decides to send the paper to the administration himself.”

beomgyu nods as he chuckles at your note before giving a last “i will” before walking and waving away, making you close the door as you wonder how did he know where you lived. eh, that’s fine. you got to see what heeseung gave you as the box rested on top of the counter right beside ryujin who was pouring the japchae into the bowl.

slowly opening it—scared that he might have a jack-in-the-box mechanism inside it—you were met with plastics covering greens as you tugged a few of them out to be met with a bunch of fruits and vegetables still packed in their grocery’s packing. your shoulder meets ryujin’s as she took a glimpse at the new ingredient you picked out of the box.

“from beomgyu?”

shaking your head, you feel a piece of paper inside the box as you pinch it between your fingers. straighten the creases, you see the scribbles on the note as you read it in your mind.

eat them for the baby’s health and your own sanity - lhs

“heeseung,” you replied after you finish. ryujin gives a small hum as you catch the smirk on her face before you shove her with your shoulder. both of you open the plastics of the greens, vegetables, and fruits that heeseung bought for you, ryujin saying out loud the names of the greens as you and her bounce ideas of what kind of food she can make to cater to your diet.

“kale, cabbage, broccoli…” she picked another vegetable, carefully pulling away the plastics as the waft of the smell entered the kitchen. you knew of the vegetable, but being pregnant equals being sensitive to smells. and the way that you instantly wretch at the smell makes you scurry away from ryujin.

“hey, who rang the be-“

minjeong was pushed away as she saw you opening the door of their shared bathroom, making her turn around as she heard you wretch out the remaining food and saliva inside of you that is followed immediately by a flush from the toilet bowl. she walked to the kitchen to see ryujin holding stems of leaves on her hand.

“well, now we know she can’t eat arugula.”

the chime of the lock unlocked rings alongside the opening of the door of their apartment as ryujin and minjeong stare at it, seeing chaeryeong trying to breathe as she takes off her sneakers.

“WHY IS JIMIN PESTERING ME ABOUT (Y/N)?”

-

thumps and squeaks are what beomgyu heard as his eyes gazed at the lights coming out of the gymnasium. his feet working in tandem echoing through the night as he took another glance at the paper, another step away from the door as he pulled the handle to see a bunch of boys running around the wood-floored gym. beomgyu’s eyes searched for heeseung as he bit his lips, not wanting to be late for his own band practice with the boys.

turning towards the bleachers, he’s seen one of the boys that beomgyu remembered being on heeseung’s profile. his hands on top of his knees as he leans forward to see the 3 x 3 half court game beomgyu realized isn’t a part of training—but more of them having fun. he is taking a glimpse at heeseung who is muttering a curse word under his breath because the ball was stolen from his hold.

“hey, uh, sheep!”

the boy turns towards beomgyu with squinting feline-esque eyes before they widen, realizing who called him.

“your jersey has ‘yang’ on it. so i called you sheep.”

“nah, that’s okay. you’re beomgyu hyung, txt’s guitarist…” the boy stands up, their height almost the same as each other, but beomgyu knows that the kid can grow taller—from both basketball and his unfinished puberty phase, probably.

“i’m jungwon! i’m guessing you’re here for heeseung hyung?”

beomgyu glanced down at the paper as he nodded, “i couldn’t stay until he finished cause i have band practice. so, this document is for him to sign.” he told jungwon what you told him as his ghost patted himself on his shoulders for being right. beomgyu uses his thumbs to point behind him after jungwon picks up the paper that he pushed towards him and gives him a thumbs up before a loud "thank you" rings as the gymnasium door opens, leaving jungwon with a slight chuckle creeped out of his lips.

the boy couldn’t stop his curiosity as he turned the paper so he could read the writing, skimming it down as his eyebrows as he couldn’t stop his speech before it was too lat-

“HEESEUNG HYUNG IS A DAD?!”

jungwon’s shout makes movement screech to a halt as he looks up at his boys, also staring at heeseung, who is glaring at jungwon and the paper he is holding. but, his reaction speed was too slow to pull it off his grips as heeseung lost against the other five boys who had huddled towards jungwon.

“shut up!” sunoo exclaimed.

“it’s true, sun,” jongseong replied as he could hear jaeyun and riki screaming and laughing before they scurried to run around heeseung.

“who is this (y/n), hyung?” jaeyun speaks into his ear, making heeseung grimace as the three walk towards the crowd with sunghoon now holding onto the paper.

“isn’t (l/n)(y/n) your senior, jjong?” sunghoon calls out, making said boy read carefully the name with the signature on top.

“oh yeah! we had a marketing communication class together. didn’t know you knew her, hyung.”

heeseung steps in between them as he snatches the paper out of sunghoon’s grip in a quick frame. his eyes scan the paper that is written—the letter to the university administration about your status—and he can see his name printed on the side of the paper from yours. then, he finally read the note you have sticking onto the paper.

sign it and give it to the administration office. if you’re serious.

“won, it’s your turn to play,” he said as the boys stared at him. “i have things to do, plus i have a morning class tomorrow.”

“okay, hyung.” jungwon’s answer was followed by his offer to the older boys to continue the match as he felt another hand holding onto his forearm, turned to see the youngest boy with a small smile on his face.

“you gotta have to let us meet this (y/n) noona. i bet she’s pret-“

“go back to your place, riki-kun. jake’s calling for you.”

“hey, lanky. come on before i make you and jungwon switch.” jaeyun’s voice penetrates through the conversation at the correct moment as the smirk on heeseung’s face is growing. they’re leaving him alone as he walks towards his backpack and duffle bag—finally feeling the surging soreness from pushing himself hard while training and off-training. sure, it’s excessive. but the tournament is a month away from now, and he had to train for that, knowing that the matches would be back-to-back if he passed the quarter-finals.

the wood of the bleachers screeches beneath his body as he pulls out his pen, staring at the paper one last time—trembling breaths coming out from him. who knew that a single signature could hold so much power?

yet with how you are trying to deter him, to remind him that signing this will mean that the whole university will now know lee heeseung is a future father: that actually made him shake. he could feel the boiling anxiousness giving a few pumps of steam into his mind, clouding the plans he had already made in his mind from the information jeongin told him. he knows the future scenarios on both sides.

but fuck it, right? he’s not usually caring about what other people perceive. so what if he is known as a dad in nine months? but, he had to think about the parental leave you’re proposing—it might actually make him graduate late.

yet, the view is clear as he lets his pen glide on the paper.

the baby and your scowling face as you realize that his doing is the one that makes that baby so healthy.

tucking the paper in between his laptop and his wireless earbuds on his ears, he waves goodbye to the boys who are playing with sunoo giving a beautiful lay-up before he pushes the door to get out of the gym. the streetlights shining the pathways as he still can see students roaming around the campus at night—most are going to the library to maybe pull an all-nighter.

the screen illuminates his face as he scrolls down at the text jimin had sent him about you. but he had to do another victory lap first when he dialed the generic full name’s number.

“hello?”

“that will not work, (y/n).”

heeseung heard the grainy chuckle in his ear as he let his muscles’ memories take him home in the night's dark. eyes staring at the path that opens up onto the sidewalk where sparse vehicles are going about on the asphalt streets.

“so you sign it?” he caught the way you sigh against your phone while heeseung is focusing on both the conversation and what jimin texted about your condition.

“and i’ll be giving it to the office.”

“hmm, okay…” heeseung’s eyes scan through the words, letting his face contort and relax as he consumes it to his mind before it’s broken by a grainy sound of metal from your end.

“also, thanks, by the way. for the arugula. made me vomit my stomach out.” heeseung heard you reply as it slowly became more mumbled, hearing you eating your dinner’s food as the noises of the night came back into his cochlea, shaking his nerves as only white noises entertained him as he looked around—seeing his apartment building at the distance.

“and don’t make jimin ask chaeryeong about me again. she’s traumatized now and we have each other’s number saved.”

heeseung didn’t want to save your number at first. but when his mom brought him to her meeting with your mom, catching up after a long time and discussing that both of you have been accepted by the same university, they insisted that you both to have each other’s numbers saved. “for emergency sake, so you both have each other to rely on.” his mom explained, making him discreetly roll his eyes while you continue to listen to your music without giving a glance to him. yet, you’re the one that gave him your phone first so he can type his number, making a small “:p” the first thing you text to him.

“i’ll tell him.” he clicked his tongue as he caught the way you omit another information from him.

“but you’re not gonna tell me you have a doctor’s appointment next week?”

“how’d you kno-“

“jimin, from chaeryeong, and so, from you.” his smile gets bigger. “gotta have to thank jimin for that one.”

“so you want to join? what if you have a class?”

heeseung’s feet brought him to the lobby of his apartment building, his vision now on the elevator as he stated something so obvious to him.

“i have questions and i rather miss class than leave it unanswered.”

-

your hands are tugged inside your hoodie’s front pocket as you wait for your name to be called. the usual soreness is tamed as you let chaeryeong massage your back carefully, relaxing most of the tender muscles that are holding you up. you can see a little bump protruding out of your stomach that was not there when you discovered you were pregnant in week 8.

remembering the way you have to buy five pregnancy tests is ridiculous when your only symptoms are headaches and vomiting. but it quickly escalates to morning sickness and how you notice just how sensitive your senses have become—the way your fingers realize little grains of crayon as you pick up the kids’ drawing to how you’re triggered by little noises coming out off your room. it feels too strange for it to be food poisoning and with all five tests showing two blue stripes: all the problems you have faced for the past month—why your period is late, the morning sickness—all click inside your mind.

your girls were the first ones you spoke to, recalling how they waited in front of your shared bathroom as you flipped the tests around, hitting you one by one with the truth of your condition. then tears start to show as overwhelming emotions compete to show dominance and you hear chaeryeong’s voice from behind the knocks on the door. you open the door to feel them hugging you as you show them the tests, how they can’t wait to be your baby’s cool aunts from differing perspectives as they know of your history related to children, pregnancy, and motherhood from taking care of so many children, how your parents open up to you about why they couldn’t give you a younger sibling, and the responsibility you are willing to take care for them. at that moment they hugged, you’ve already fallen in love with your baby and you are determined to let them have a happy life.

the obstetrics and gynecology department’s walls were more pastel than the other parts of the hospital. maternity pack posters hanging as you read the words, planning your next steps as you waited by the door to your doctor. your fingers interlocked and thumbs twirling around each other as you attentively listen to the open door and your name being called. scouring your eyes around, you saw a little playground area for kids barren as you eyed the small set, mothers around you waiting also for their appointment—some with a sleeping baby in their hands, another with a large bump. the atmosphere is so serene that you can collect your thoughts and arrange them for the next seven months from your due date.

“hey, (y/n).”

your eyes blink as you turn around in your seat to face forward once again, looking up to find the familiar face you’ve been thinking about for the past few days.

heeseung wears a simple hoodie like you do, both of his hands tucked into the front pocket as the strap of his bag crosses his chest. a thin-lipped smile on his face as you didn’t see his usual resting bitch expression.

“heeseung…” you reply as you gnaw on the inside of cheek as he stands there, “i haven’t gotten the call from the doctor yet. so you can sit down.” your eyes glance quick at the vast space beside yours on the sofa you are also sitting down. he gave a quick nod before sitting on the space beside yours, a noticeable space between the two of you as you both lean more against each of the tables placed as the barriers between the sofas. even if you felt a piercing presence beside you, you tried your best not to look at him. the phone call when he called you was the last time you spoke with your voice to him—you having small talk with him as he found in the hospital doesn’t really count—yet he still gave you another box of ingredients for your unborn child this week, no arugula this time.

well, you are glad to see beomgyu more and you don’t mind seeing beomgyu every week if he’s the one that does heeseung’s errands for his child.

both of you stare forward at the doors and wall in front of you, nearing mirroring each other even by the slight twitch of both of you wanting to look at each other. but, also not really. the tension is stronger than when you told him you’re pregnant with his child. the fucking effects of the continued declaration of rivalry as you can calculate how far both of you are willing to push even for the past week and you can guess what you both will push more for the next 7 months.

“miss (l/n) (y/n)?” the door opened as the nurse spoke of your name making you jump up from your seat as heeseung followed behind you to enter the doctor’s room.

“(y/n)!” the young doctor said enthusiastically as you sat down on the chair in front of the desk.

“doctor park!” you answered, cadence matched hers.

“how have you- oh.” dr. park looks at the man entering behind you, looking between the three women in the room and the empty chair near the door before he hears her speak, “is this the dad?”

“yes, i’m the dad, lee heeseung,” he replied steadily as dr. park, who is standing up, shoots her hand out to him.

“i’m dr. park jihyo, (y/n)’s ob-gyn doctor. didn’t expect to meet you as (y/n) said that the dad might not be involved.”

heeseung’s eyebrows were raised, chortling as he realized what you implied, “after she told me, i decided to be involved.” his eyes peek from the side to see you giving a stare with no movements on your lips, sitting down on the chair beside of yours as you want to continue with your appointment.

“well, welcome to your tenth week of being pregnant. how are you feeling?” dr. park asks, looking at you with a warm smile as you see the nurse taking care of your document.

“the morning sickness kinda gets pretty worse and overflows out of the morning. definitely more sensitive towards scent, flavor, and texture. i also have already sensed growth on the bump since it is a bit more protruding than usual.” your hand unconsciously caresses the hoodie covered in your stomach, feeling the tenderness of the skin that is just muscles of your abdomen being pushed to cater to the baby.

“your stomach and intestines are being pushed by the uterus as the fetus grows and it’s very normal. since we already did the blood and urine test and went over your family history back in your first appointment, we can go to an ultrasound to check the growth of your baby.” dr. park replied as she nodded at the nurse who instantly walked to the bed and set things up for your scan.

“i’m sorry to bother you, doctor. but i have a question.”

your head shifts towards heeseung as he asks, the doctor just giving him a nod.

“(y/n) said to me she’ll get a plan b pill after our… time. yet, she still got pregnant, but isn’t that still supposed to work?” the way his voice pitches makes you hold on to a smile, recalling to when you asked the doctor the same question in your first appointment. you gave the doctor a big nod for her signal.

“well, (y/n) said to me she consumed a plan b pill less than 24 hours after your intercourse. but plan b pill, or levonorgestrel, works by delaying the release of the egg from the ovaries. she also said that her period, which started around a week or two weeks before she discovered she was positive, was late. so, we can assume that while you two have sex, (y/n) was already in her early stages of ovulation with the egg being released into the fallopian tube and the egg got fertilized.”

heeseung nods along with the doctor’s words as you remember the same explanation given to you in the previous meeting. you’ve tried using pills before but you know it will affect your hormone and physical health in the long run—you are not a serial fucker unlike a few people you recognize—so you rely on protection like condoms and morning-after pills right after that. heeseung not wearing one makes you want to laugh at how funny the scenario is and how you can just remain rivals for the rest of your life if you remind him to put on the rubber.

the nurse calls for as you follow her, stepping out of your shoes as you lay down on the bed. she gently brushes your hoodie up as your skin is exposed while she also pulls the band of your pants down below right above your underwear line. the chairs move as you glance at heeseung following dr. park as she takes the seat beside you to check on the machinery. the liquid is cold as it touches your skin as your eyes catch heeseung who is looking at the exposed stomach where his unborn child is.

as the transducer spread around the gel on the stomach when you feel it pressed down, you looked at the screen across from you hanging on the ceiling as the doctor moved around, marking the size of your uterus. you heard her gasp as you turned to look at her warm smile that widens into a grin.

“congratulations to you both!” she replied as she continued to move the transducer around, making you and heeseung realize that there’s a fetus inside you, but not just one.

“TWINS?!”

-

2. katana-like knife

heeseung gazes at the ultrasound he is holding with both hands, seeing the way the doctor has assigned twin 1 and twin 2 on the screen. the twins are in different sacs; he remembered what the doctor said, making them fraternal twins. she also says that not only you were ovulating when you two fuck, but you were releasing two different eggs around the same time and he got both of them pregnant.

he recalled both of you doing a hilarious staring contest as you couldn’t stop yourself from making funny faces as the doctor described the growth of your twins. fucking heck, he hadn’t told his friends that he was having twins. how his body trembles as the realization hits him while he’s looking at his babies—yes, plural—makes him even want to be more attentive, to now realize that he had two to take care of. and those two make him know you have to adjust your diet once again.

if it weren’t for him buying ingredients, he doesn’t think you would adapt easily to what the babies need. he’s won on this occasion. but what comes next?

his phone vibrates on the table as he takes a glimpse of the text message showing on the lit-up screen.

(l/n) (y/n): i’m heading home for the weekend. my parents will definitely see that i’ve been knocked up.

even he can see it as he had walked past you before on campus. you’re now wearing more oversized clothing pieces—t-shirts, hoodies, cardigans—as he realized the slight bump on the surface of them. it’s been over two weeks since that check-up appointment and the growth has been faster than he expected.

(l/n) (y/n): not asking you to join me.

(l/n) (y/n): if you aren’t brave enough to take the consequences, i’m fucking winning this :p

“that’s it” he shakes his head as he tugs the ultrasound picture into his wallet before putting it back in its place, hands opening the messages.

lee heeseung: threatening much. i’m in.

if you want to make this a competition, let’s make this a competition.

lee heeseung: hey mom. sorry for texting you randomly. but i’m going back home for the weekend.

all he had to do was wait, as he could hear the sound of his mom talking with your mom on the phone about how their children would be home together, asking to meet up.

and that moment goes exactly as he had expected as he drove the car with you in the passenger seat, leaning against the door as you both let the radio play boring-ass repeating pop songs from some random radio station. none of you seem to react, just to make each other annoyed enough to know who will concede and connect to bluetooth first—even not listening to good-ass music is a competition between you both.

you sighed extra loud as you listened to an old-ass pop song from the mid-2010s the radio seemed to have a lifetime contract for it to play for fucking ever. you wish you were the one driving now, but you didn’t bring your car for this semester because it needed maintenance and you were in a healthier mood for this year. you catch a look at your phone, seeing your mom asking where you are right now as auntie lee has arrived at your home—cooking up the food for all your family to enjoy.

“which one is your car’s bluetooth?” you gave up on hearing the radio station as you playfully checked every menu to find the bluetooth menu.

“the brand of the car, duh,” he answered, still focusing on the highway as you remembered that it’s nearly a few exits away from the side of the town you and he grew up in. he took a glance at the bluetooth speaker as he sees,

“‘mitski’s brainchild personified’? you liked her that much?” he actually snorted, making you see the name on your phone on the screen in the middle of the dashboard.

“shut the fuck up. she’s my comfort musician, just like kaede from slam dunk is your comfort character.” the way your fingers lightly tap against your phone, makes him chuckle as he can hear you holding onto your emotion from not spilling through your words, not commenting on how you mentioned his liking for slam dunk as if you remember it so well, even if it also stuns him.

you’re playing a playlist of yours that is just… instrumentals. a perfect playlist to hear whilst commuting as you let yourself take a breather from this world. eyes gazing to the window outside as you rested your phone on your lap. the scent of heeseung’s cologne accustomed your memories as you let the music speak while you both remained quiet. maybe, because it is an instrumental track that you both couldn’t comment on, that he can’t take a jab at your music taste unless you put on mitski or boygenius, that it gives a soundtrack so vague it resembles the way you perceived your relationship to each. sure, you still hate him for everything he has done to you in the name of winning. but, with two babies on the way, the concept of the rivalry between you both is there yet so blurry. which one is a concrete rivalry? which one is the softer one? why should you trust what he gave to you? why did he join in to take care of them?

the car zooms fast on the highway, yet you can see slower cars on the outside of the highway and faster cars zooming past you on the other lane. it’s like what your dad had said before—"you don’t feel how fast life is until you look at other people’s lives"—and to think that you will be home in overtly large clothing to hide your bump to know that he’s going to be a granddad just concretes the idea of that in your mind. you turn your head to glance at the backseat, seeing the shopping bag you had prepared besides what heeseung also has for his family, who he’ll meet at your house.

stepping out of the car, you stood at the carpool of your house filled with cars—other than yours and your parents inside the garage—when you watched your mom and heeseung’s mom walk out of the porch, barefooted, to greet you. the warmth of your mom’s hug felt so overwhelming that you had to sink your emotions as you blamed your hormones for making you too sensitive.

the interior of the house feels so lively from the last time you went home during the semester break. maybe it’s because of the way your mom has another guest in the form of the lee family and the smell of the delicious you know both of your moms had made together with their aprons still on as they guide you inside. even as they walked to the kitchen, you could hear them whisper.

“since when did (y/n) and heeseung arrive here together and in the same freaking car?” auntie lee asks.

“(y/n) didn’t bring her car this semester so i guess she doesn’t wanna waste any more money for transport.” mama answered.

both of your moms have always tried to make you close and you’ve always tried to tone down your rivalry in front of them, effortlessly acting in front of them as nice friends when you give him a snide look behind their backs any chance you can get. your bickering can escalate so much that you will have a shouting match in the arcade as heeseung doesn’t want to give up his time to play for you, making both of your moms force you to apologize to each other before that bickering returns at school’s classes where they’re not there for you two to mediate. maybe that’s why you don’t perceive heeseung as an enemy. merely a rival; because your mom never talked bad about heeseung no matter what happened between the two of you and it seems that heeseung’s mom has also done the same to him.

the two shopping bags sit on the coffee table as you watch both of your dads talking about dad stuff. heeseung’s attention is on his phone as he’s typing something on the screen while you unconsciously rub your stomach hidden beneath your top, waiting for all of them to settle down around the coffee table as they want to open the shopping bags together.

“what did you bring me?” mama asks in a sing-song manner as heeseung’s mom giggles beside her. you stood beside heeseung with your hands behind you as the husbands looked at the similar-looking gift boxes in each of their wives’ hands.

“don’t tell me. is it the jewelry i showed you those months ago, hee?”

“nah, it’s not. dad’s planning to buy that one for you.”

heeseung’s dad’s face turns into a scowl, seemingly angry as if his son has spoiled his plan while the boy just widens his smile before gazing back at his mom.

“well, together?” mama asked to his mom.

“yeah, 3, 2… 1!”

the box opens as you’re holding your breath, also holding back your smirk as you can view the way papa’s eyebrows crease as he can’t believe what he is saying. heeseung’s mom was the first one to openly express her shock by literally jumping from her seat and box thrown towards his dad’s as he took a good stare at it, making you glance at him you actually won the bidding on who would be shocked first between the two.

“NO, FUCK- WAIT?!” his mom stares between the two of you before your mom jumps from her space to also gaze at you, holding onto the paper. giving him a nudge with your elbow. you didn’t expect him to wrap his arm behind your shoulders.

“yeah… the babies are ours-“

“no fucking way!” your mom actually shouted as she hyperventilates while heeseung’s mom covers her mouth, contemplating on what to do when she felt her body being squished by her best friend, hugging her tight as they turn to hug each other while heeseung’s dad gives his box to your dad so he could see it clearly.

“since when are you two together?” papa asked as you tried to let heeseung’s grip from your shoulder.

“uncle, we aren’t together. we just hook up and-“

“WE’RE GOING TO BE IN-LAWS.” you can hear mama cheer as both of the women twirl around the small space, making you feel even more guilty for breaking the immersion as you stop budging away from heeseung’s hold. rolling your eyes, you stare at heeseung and lean in close to his ear, whispering.

“bad fucking idea…”

“at least they’re happy, right? well, i won because of that.”

mama interrupts both of you as she gives you both an enormous hug while heeseung’s mom comes from behind. you could see the tears coming out of mama’s eyes who rested her head against your shoulder.

“ughh, too tight.”

“stop it, honey! (y/n) looks so uncomfortable.” papa reminded.

“oops, sorry!” your mom lets go of her hold as heeseung’s mom slotted between the two of you as she pushes in on the excess fabric of your clothes, making you grip both sides of your top and pull it backward so she can see your bump already showing.

“hi, baby!”

“it’s babies.” heeseung’s dad cuts in as his wife follows with, “there’s two of them?”

“i swear to god.” heeseung’s old man brushes his face, unbelievable that his wife didn’t see the two sacs from the ultrasound as you give your mom a nod, her hands carefully holding onto your waist.

“fraternal twins,” you confirmed to her as you watched another batch of fresh tears coming out of her eyes.

“hello, you two. you’re going to have the best mom ever.”

“and dad too.” heeseung’s mom replied as she moved to stand in front of you two, seeing his grown son seemingly glowing as she spoke of him being the best dad to his two unborn children.

“okay. i gotta have to make the red meat well done then.” mama cuts out as she hastily moves to the kitchen to cook back her meat-based meal, letting auntie lee replace her place as she caresses the bump gently.

“how long has it been?” she asked as you opened your mouth to reply.

“we did the ultrasound two weeks ago. so it’s week 12 now.” heeseung cuts you off as she gazes back at her son.

“what have you two already prepared?”

“we gave a letter to the university for future parents and they agreed to let me take online classes entering 5 months because i only have three classes, one is that's doing a study case, and they let heeseung have parental leave if i give birth. i haven’t found the right doula yet but my supervisor at the daycare has a connection to one and i think it will be her. she has given me the number so i just have to text her,” you answered.

“is it near campus?” she replied.

“yeah, because i don’t want to graduate late. that’s why i decided to stay near campus during it.” you have thoughts on if you should just take a break this semester to focus on your pregnancy or not multiple times by now. but, of course, the rivalry comes back as you still want to keep pace with heeseung and your friends who will be graduating next semester.

“you should take a semester leave, (y/n).” heeseung cuts off your thought as you peek at him.

“i’ve already got what i wanted from the uni and it’s fine, heeseung. i can keep up.”

“well, you can, but what if you don’t take care of the babies?���

“of course, i can take care of the babies-“

“not by being stressed over college.”

“heeseung-“ you turn your body towards him as you grip both of his upper arms, firm hands holding him as you stare down at him. “i know what’s best for me. i know what my limits are. i’ve trusted you enough with the food but you should also trust me to know how to take care of myself outside of nutrition.”

your teeth are grinding against each other as your fiery gaze stays on him, even as you let go of the grip. it stays for a few more seconds as you turn back to head to the dads who seem to be forgotten by the sofa, seeing papa teary-eyed as he hugs and kisses your head before you let heeseung’s dad hug you.

his mom turns towards him, cupping his cheek. “she knows what she’s doing, heeseung.”

“but how should i know it’s right? cause that’s not right for me. my friend’s mom said that a pregnant woman should focus on preparing herself for her birth and doing college doesn’t seem to prepare her for that.” heeseung sighed as he looked at his mom, not expecting a slight hurt on her face.

“i was still doing my job when i was pregnant with you, heeseung. your dad trusted me for that cause he knows my limits, might be even more than i do. let her be and you might learn that she knows how to take care of herself, too.” her hand brushed away the fringe on his forehead, eyes glistening as she let out a small warm smile at him. the hurt falling away as heeseung sees her mom’s signature smile of knowing before she brought him in his arms, hugging him tight as he glances at you who is giving him a small look with a tight-lip smile before you turn away to the dining room.

-

heeseung stares at the glow-in-the-dark stars sticking on the ceiling. his back being stretched out on the floor as he laid on the comforter beside the single bed where you’re still playing with your phone. he remembered how he begged—trying to persuade—his parents to bring him home with them. but knowing that he’ll only be staying for one night and you two are “together”, they decide for him to stay with you instead. you can see how his fuming breath was held as you glanced at him with an unidentifiable look at the dining table, his parents believing you would let him stay in your bed.

but he insists on lying down on the floor, knowing the history between the two of you they don’t know, as you silently agree.

printed pictures still hang on one side of the room when he looks at them as long as the bedside lamp is still on. he remains silent, eyes tired from looking at his phone so much to distract him from his reality when he hears the rummaging movement on the mattress as you put the phone on the table.

“well, night, heeseung.” the click of the lamp is big in the white-noised room as darkness envelops the space, letting in the moon and streetlights outside beam their shine inside. your eyes easily adjust to the surroundings as you puff your one-less pillows on the bed to find the right position—knowing the ache of sleeping in the wrong position when you are carrying two fetuses inside you.

“since when did you work in a daycare?”

the man’s words overcome your action as you brush the cover of the pillow.

“why do you wanna know?” you put the pillows in the right position as you lay your head and back against it.

“since your mom proclaimed that you’ll be the mom ever.”

heeseung is reminded of the way you look when your mom says that, a look of pride coming out of your eyes as you unconsciously nod knowingly. even if you and him are close by proximity—by being your moms’ children, by being schoolmates, by having roommates who stay in proximity with each other—there’s still something that you don’t know about each other. because if the opposites know, they can use it as leverage to bring any of the two down.

“had a few babysitting gigs during high school days. i started to like it more and decided when i go to hybe, i’ve volunteered for a non-formal school for children and more. i decided to do a part-time job at a daycare and yeah…” you replied, laying down by your side as if you could see heeseung beside you when he is, in fact, below you.

“it doesn’t match with your major though.” heeseung gives a snide comment as you sigh loudly.

“so what if a business major can’t connect with my passion for childcare- fuck me.” you stopped to remind yourself to stop taking the bait from heeseung because you know he was making these comments to break your confidence within yourself. you could discuss how making and taking care of a business could resemble making and taking care of a child, but with the way he had pissed you off today in more ways than one, you rather stick that thought to yourself and instead, take offense towards him.

“why did you wrap your arm around my shoulders?”

heeseung glances towards the bed, seeing your silhouette on the top forming a dark shadow because of your comforter shielding it.

“i had to. so they know the babies are ours,” he replied with the thought that first came to mind after he already had his arm behind you—blaming his underlying consciousness for doing that.

“and it makes them believe we’re together when we’re not. look at us now.” both of your arms stretch out of the comforter to tell him just how big the situation you got yourself into cause how many white lies must you tell your parents to hide that this is because of a hookup, not because you are romantically linked?

your staggered giggles drop as you try to glance downwards at him, the arm nearest to the floor left hanging as heeseung didn’t comment on what you said. “well, this just got more complicated.”

“our situation is complicated since the start, (y/n).”

“well, i know who to blame for making our strings get more tangled with our parents cause fuck you, heeseung.”

he saw the lone middle finger standing tall from the silhouette of your figure before you picked yourself up and lay all your weight on the bed, turning the other side as heeseung followed; both of you staring at the opposites of the room, knowing that your bodies needed to rest so you can face each other again in the morning.

the time between that night and how you both lived after you went back to your own places near campus was a week when you texted him about the doula that you had told at your parent’s home. the car was left in neutral with the handbrake lifted as heeseung waited at the daycare where you work. his eyes gaze at the differing modes of transport each guardian is picking up the kids with before looking at the lobby as he sees you and another attendant saying goodbyes to the kids. he watches as a few of them hug you and even a few let their cheek rested against your growing bump before you take a glance forward at them who is going back to be with their parents, noticing his car for a few seconds before you return inside to take your items.

the backpack is hanging off your shoulders as you take another sliced fried potato from the container when you enter the passenger’s seat beside his driver’s one, resting your back against the seat with your bag there to support you. “hello! i’ve sent you the address, right?”

he stares at you with his squinting eyes, “you should not eat that.”

“it’s cravings, heeseung. it’s totally normal. the doula can count me on that.” you chew another fry as heeseung lets out a mumble under his breath as he moves the handbrake and puts the gear to drive, reeling the car forward as he drives you to the doula’s office. both of your moms have suggested several doulas for you to choose from, but you reminded them you’re having twins. so having a doula who specializes in taking care of moms birthing multiples will be helpful as it is also your first time.

playfully, you fly a french fry like an airplane towards heeseung as he drives, like the usual time you try to feed kids at the daycare. it nudges against his lips a few times before he bit it, pulling it off your fingers; making you let out a chuckle cause he can’t even resist it himself.

the parking lot was pretty barren as you only saw a few vehicles when you both walked out of the cars. you adjust the backpack once again on your back as the chime from the car tells you it is now locked as you enter the office building.

thanking the receptionist, you and he stood in front of the doula’s office as you knocked the door.

the door opens as a soft-spoken woman says from the inside, “miss (l/n)(y/n)?”

“yes, i am.”

“oh, come in. come in.” the door widened as heeseung could see the things inside the large office room. a desk in one corner and a cabinet stood behind it. accolades and certifications by the desk with a sofa on the corner beside the door. a box of what seems to be baby toys beside the sofa as posters are hanging on the wall. from the anatomical look of a baby inside their mom’s uterus to words of encouragement towards mothers.

“i’m haseul. nice to meet you.” the woman shook your hand as she then glanced at heeseung who was still wandering around.

“oh, uh, this is heeseung, the babies’ daddy.” you refer to his name as he looks at the lady, shaking her hand as she looks between the two of you.

“so, both of you aren’t married or dating-“

“no, we’re childhood friends and hooked up, and this happened.” heeseung blurts out as you raised your eyebrows, poking your tongue in the cheek. haseul nodded her head as she let both of you sit down in front of the desk.

“first, congratulations on the twins. you must be nervous to find that out.”

“of course, especially as a first-time mom. but, i’m feeling pretty okay.”

“that’s good, i’ve also sent you the questionnaire for you to fill on your plan for giving birth…” haseul’s voice traces out as heeseung glances at the portrait frame of her holding onto a baby with a mom, a glance at the book about post-partum, and a baby doll on top of the cabinet right in front of a corner window. he could only catch onto some words he recognized from jeongin telling him—birth, dilation, cramps, anesthesia, cesarean—as he sensed himself getting overwhelmed, especially when he had the second preliminary match in two days and his gig in being the documentation for a baseball match for hybe uni too.

his thumbs caressed his fingertips as he sensed the sweat forming on his palm, the same feeling he has every time he has to go to match. to then realize just how ready you seem by how eloquently you say the words for your requests to the doula like you’ve grown up much more than he is even though both of you are the same age. sure, he felt the leverage the first time when he sent you food and a few tips he makes beomgyu do; but his knowledge couldn’t compete with yours and it scares him to know he is losing his stance from above you. to know that you’re much more ready than him.

“heeseung…” he heard someone calling for him, before something wrapped around his wrist, taken aback to see you brought him back to the room he was in.

“sorry… what did you say?” heeseung replied as haseul gave him a warm smile.

“i’ve heard from (y/n) that you have known some knowledge of pregnancies but i could give you some sources to read because it is your first time as a dad as well.” the woman said to him calmly, looking at heeseung as if she can read his body language. your hold on his wrist stays as you rub the inside of his wrist with your thumb. “we have also discussed that (y/n) will try the normal route with water birth and if she can’t handle it, she’ll be going with cesarean. we could also do an appointment every two weeks as both of you are students now, but it is best if you come so you can understand each process as she is entering the second trimester.”

“i understand. i’ll try my best to set my schedule so i can join her.” heeseung glanced at you, who was giving a nod before you let go of your hold as he seemed to be anchored back in the room. the woman gives a small smile as she starts a lecture on the process of pregnancy, childhood, and parenthood. another class that heeseung doesn’t want to get in the first place, but knowing his determination to be the best dad ever—as what his mom believes him to be—he follows along with writing notes in his book as you have with your laptop. the class that he has to pass so he can take care of his children as best as he can.

-

even with the music booming from around his space, heeseung still felt like something was different. his eyes rested on the plastic-colored cup filled with a concoction of alcohol he didn’t know—he could taste the gin and what seemed to be fanta in it. the sigma mu’s frat house lits up in motion as he eyes the way the expensive big-ass speakers are scattered around the room, gazing at the familiar faces of his peers and juniors he has seen while walking around campus.

something stirs within him as he eyes his friends who are here—beomgyu who is by the speaker as he talks with the dj, jimin with his dance crew friends, jeongin with his class friend, while heeseung sits with sunoo and sunghoon on either side of him. that’s when he caught onto the silhouette of some familiar faces every time he comes across a certain person; every time he comes across you.

“excuse me, gang.” heeseung would like to thank himself for being able to stand up so stable even with the nearly empty cup, excusing himself from his basketball teammates to walk towards the frat boys of sigma mu to find the vp and his girlfriend by his side.

“winter…” he calls with the nickname he heard you and others call her before as said girl turns towards him with her boyfriend’s arm still behind the sofa.

“lee heeseung.” she spoke out with a grin on her face, “what makes you come in front of us?”

“i was wondering,” ‘fuck it’ heeseung drinks up the whole liquid that remains inside the cup, hoping that his alcohol tolerance still be able to support him to be stable, “has (y/n) ever talked to you about a doula check-up or some other thing?”

“she should’ve told me if there’s gonna be a checkup but i don’t think there is one nearest from now.” minjeong replies as she lets sungchan take care of her drink so she can comfortably talk to the boy in front of them.

“ah, really?”

“yeah!” minjeong replied before giving another smile. that’s when someone crashes to wrap their arms around minjeong and sungchan, making the two jump as they turn to see ryujin’s head between both of them before giving minjeong a peck on the temple.

“hey, (y/n)’s baby daddy. whatchu up to?”

heeseung chuckles as he looks between the two girls—”no wonder you have them as your friends, all of them are similar after all”—before he opens his mouth.

“just checking what’s (y/n) up to-“

“well, she’s not here. for your information.” ryujin lets out a smirk, “you must really wanna talk to her about something.”

“a doula appointment.” sungchan replied, “and you know how (y/n) is about…” the boy glances at, “him.”

heeseung’s teeth grit against each other as he senses they are hiding something from him. maybe because of your doing so you can prove to everyone that he isn’t as committed to his children as he spoke about.

“you and minjeong aren’t home, so i presume (y/n) is with chaer-“

“someone’s calling my name?”

heeseung sighs as he turns towards the voice of chaeryeong who is holding two cups of drinks as she gives one to ryujin.

“he’s asking about (y/n).” minjeong nods toward chaeryeong when she lets out a small ah before turning her head to stare at heeseung.

“since chan here invited all four of us at the frat party, she really wanted to be here but, of course, cause she’s preggo with YOUR children, she couldn’t. but all of us went out of the apartment together and she was holding a duffle bag of some sort.”

“where is she going?” heeseung doesn’t hesitate to ask, making your three friends look at each other and giggle.

“you seem desperate enough. she’s at the park near our apartment complex. she complained about needing a light workout because of how much her back is hurting.” ryujin said as heeseung could picture the park, knowing where you lived because he had picked you up for your trip back home for the weekend.

“okay, thanks all of you.” heeseung places the cup on the table beside the sofa where minjeong sits and turns away, letting the sense of fresh air flowing inside the frat house guide him to the nearest exit as he arrived on the pavement, feeling the stuffiness inside him getting lighter as he gave a text in his group chat he’ll be leaving early.

the walk there was pleasant, to say the least, because the suburban town the campus is in is pretty sparse compared to the city where heeseung and you live. there is enough place for it to be called a big town but not enough skyscrapers to be called a metropolis. and with the inconsiderable amount of apartment complexes available near campus, he already pinpointed the park where you might be.

crossing the black-and-white stripes, he arrived at one of the entrances of the park where he still could see a few people doing their activities inside—night jogging, playing chess under the streetlights, and a couple who was on a date. he was reminded of what ryujin said about how you might need exercise, but the duffle bag says to him you might stay in one place rather than walking around the park as the main event of your exercise time.

heeseung’s feet instantly brought him to the place that he had gone before in this park as it is the same park near where sunghoon, jay, and jake live—maybe they live in the same complex as you do—when he finds the silhouette lightly jog behind the trees from the path he is on. the sound of rubber meeting the concrete slaps across the night’s atmosphere as he sees you in the middle of the basketball court, wearing a sweatshirt where he could see the bump pushing against the fabric. the basketball bouncing between your palm and the ground creates the familiar sound as you jog toward the ring and shoot your shot. the ball hits the backboard enough that it bounces into the basket.

“fuck yes…” you exclaimed as you grabbed the bouncing ball into your hand, heaving as you brushed the sweat of your skin right underneath the spotlight shining on the court.

that’s when you pick up the scraping on the concrete and clap when you turn around to look at the last person you want to see tonight.

“you still got it,” heeseung commented, making you scoff as you took a few steps back so you stood adjacent to the free throw circle. holding up the basketball between your hands as you tried to remember the position before pushing towards the ring. the basketball curves as it hits the edge of the box instead.

“dammit!”

“you spun your ball,” heeseung replies as the ball flies into his arm, naturally guiding it into a dribble as he walks towards you.

“i didn’t.”

“your wrist was twisted and it makes your hand doesn’t flop straight towards the ring.” he walks towards your side as he shows you the way to hold it, making you glance at the arm muscles that form from holding the ball so much as he throws the ball, creating a perfect arch that it bounces on the back of the rim before it flies and the basket catches its fall. your body immediately reaches for it before heeseung can as you return to your spot whilst dribbling alternating between left and right.

“i know.” you lightly roll your eyes as you grab onto the basketball once again, wiping your sweat palm against your sweatshirt before you feel the right grip as you return to your position, reminding yourself to let the ball fly and not twist your ball before you threw it.

you heard a click of the tongue as you saw a pair of hands reaching to hold yours, making your hand move to the position as you picked up heeseung’s breath beside your ear. startled, your shoulder nudges against his chest as you hear a small “ack” before you throw the basketball, seeing it twirl in the air. you can hear heeseung saying “i told you so.” before it bounces against the backboard, but you are ready as you stride towards it to grab the ball before heeseung catches it and you quickly do a layup, gliding the ball as it bounces right at the small box above the rim as it bounces inside. you turn your body to face him, head tilted with a smug smile as the ball bounces before it rolls to heeseung’s feet.

but the smile falls as you see heeseung who is in his element, walking back to the three-point line and shooting his shot as the ball, once again, creates a perfect arc. the basket catches it into its net as heeseung walks towards the center of the court with a wide grin on his face. the ball bounces near you as you hold it and dribble once more, glancing at it, the court, and heeseung once again as you shake your head, scolding yourself to take things slow for your and your babies’ sake. the sudden epiphany makes your eyelids flutter as you dribble away at a steady walking pace around the court.

your footsteps are met with another as heeseung’s legs stride towards you, a smirk on his face showing as he replies, “that’s why you were put in the point guard position.”

“hmm…” your reply is small as you continue to dribble away the basketball, making you and he walk around the court together before he cuts through the silence.

“why did you stop playing basketball in high school?”

your body stood still as you let your muscle memory do your job of dribbling the ball, shifting your head towards his even if you look away.

“you were, well, it seems to be still are, good at it,” he added.

the memories of your first year in high school from the extracurricular showcase come back as you are already determined to stop playing basketball, focusing on doing something else that you were interested in.

“i got tired of it,” you replied, but heeseung seemed to notice that it was not all the truth.

“and…”

the ball stops bouncing as you hold it against you, wrapping your arm across your front along with the ball as you glare at him and reply, “you.”

“me?”

“yeah, you. i stopped playing because of you.” you turn around and set your eyes on the bench where your bag is. your water bottle calling for you so you can hydrate yourself as you give in.

“really, huh? wow, that was another victory i didn’t expect-“

“fucking hell, heeseung. that’s why- this-“ you gulped down your saliva, “what you become because of it is why i stop. i know our moms are outstanding basketball players at their time and we’ve gotten the signal to be like them but-“ you hold back as you throw the bottle inside the bag, holding yourself down as your hands form fists.

basketball has always been a large part of your life before you were even born. your mom and heeseung’s met because of their love of basketball as they became skilled players together. your mom and dad meet up because of basketball. you still remember the amount of pictures of your parents in their high school days in their basketball jerseys in the photo albums. even if they don’t pursue it professionally, it still becomes a large part of their life as it also spills onto you.

with the amount of time you have interacted with children—as it makes you see your own experience as a child in a different view—many of them like to mimic what their parents do before they form their own sense of self. you can see it with the way one child at the daycare is always playing doctor with dolls, figures, and plushies because one of their parents is a doctor. you were like that. you’ve heard and seen just how impactful basketball is to your mom that you want to be just like her, making you join the teams during your elementary and middle schools.

to see and feel the influence of your rival during practice and tournaments around you was overwhelming.

the tug-of-war between the basketball in between both of your hands is just the beginning of what kinds of rivalry you and him have during practice. even if your coaches assigned you to the same team, you or he, depending on who is first, will reach out to the coach to be put into the other team. even if you two had to practice together, hidden aggression is flying to the roof, which includes passing the ball so hard that it had even made your nose bleed. as time goes on and the many matches you and he have to compete in as you two have to watch each other to “encourage” each other’s team, you had notice the way you fell out of love of basketball because of how there are more bad memories associated with it even if you were being trusted as a captain for one season and scoring many buzzer beaters to let your team and school win the tournament.

“you’ve become so much better with it as i lost interest. i still remember when the coach brought me to the nurse’s office cause you passed the ball so hard that it hit my face. in the middle of practice for the last season in middle school, that’s when i knew…” you take steps closer as you now stand in front of him.

“i knew i’m in a losing battle against you.”

your muscles twitched as you wanted to let out a smirk when you noticed the hidden expression heeseung failed to hide, the little shock he had gotten to show. yet, the emotion that is enveloping you held it down, as you now had to tell him the truth. why your rivalry seemed to expand outside of the scope that both of you are in.

“that’s why i quit basketball. that’s why i decide to pursue my own path even with you tailing behind me to comment on my every move. because i am sick of you. yet, i held back. i had to retaliate, just like what i did on that fucking playground when we were 5. cause i’m not afraid of you even though i know i’ll lost in the end.” you chew the inside of your cheeks as heeseung seems to read your face while letting his brain figure out what you meant.

“that’s why i wanted a fucking truce.”

with the way your facial muscles contort, it hurts you more and more as you feel the tears of pain forming, harboring the feelings you have felt for nearly two decades now. with your hand raised, you wiped the small drop of tear as you let out a huge breath, feeling just a bit of the weight in your rivalry falls off—right along with you.

as you let your body sit on the concrete ground, you push yourself back slowly as you settle and lay on it. heeseung’s conflicted face peeking from your vision while you’re trying to blur it out by focusing on the night sky. though the light pollution is still around you, you can still see tiny specks of stars behind the shadow of clouds of the night. stretching your back on the ground as you let your backbone rest after trying to make you stand upright while carrying two growing fetuses.

eyelids close, you let nature take control in calming your emotions and let heeseung process the information himself. the first time you truly open up yourself behind the mask of your persona—maybe when he stays the night in your childhood room is one as you recall your feet resting against his sleeping figure, contemplating if you want to wake him up or not before gazing at the dusting basketball that you decide to bring back to your apartment after papa helps in blowing more air so it doesn’t sag too much.

the sound of rustling leaves seems to be louder as you rest still, hearing a muffled thump beside you as you open your eyes, looking at your feet to then find another pair lying down right beside yours.

“you’re the one that was throwing a fit and ruining my toy truck after i apologized.” you sighed as you took a peek to see heeseung’s head turning towards you, asserting dominance once again before looking back. you knew that if you replied with the same vibe to assert your own dominance, it would actually break you apart faster than the rate that you are now. however, you have one question that will be the right one to ask him about.

“did you mean that?”

“‘mean’ what?”

“the apology? did you mean that? cause i want you to look at it from my eyes, lee.”

heeseung traces back to that memory when he sees you teary-eyed face and his mom beside him, the boys he was playing with snickering on the side as they saw him getting in trouble with his then-friend. the “sorry” mumbled out of him with his eyes on you but mind on the boys, who seemed to not snicker at him, but at you for being a pissy fit. but, deep down, he knew…

“i meant it.” his reply makes you turn your head, mirroring his form as you let out a slight pout.

“with that smile you were giving? hell no-“ you rolled your eyes.

“i genuinely meant it. the boys that were there, they were behind you and they were laughing at us. i had to juggle facing you and them. i had to look fierce yet still can give you an apology. maybe that’s why you see the smirk that you see. i was a fucking child, (y/n). we’re not as good as we are not in hiding complicated emotions to only let out one.”

your chest rises and falls as you see the apology smirk in a different light. you don’t know if you should easily believe that or not, but after taking it into consideration, you could feel a small part of your inner child healing up before you realize the damage that you also have done to him.

“if it is genuine; i’m sorry, then. about the truck. you know how i felt now and why i did that.” you return to look at the sky once again as you hear the rustle beside you before peeking at heeseung who is also staring into the night, listening to him humming before you return to gaze back again.

“what would happen if i actually have the emotional intelligence to know that you were sincere that day?” your words cut off the silence as you felt the guilt pouring for it to be transformed into humor that was reciprocated well by heeseung’s chuckles.

“well, we wouldn’t have these two.” he playfully poked your belly, making you let out a small shriek before holding onto his wrist as you held his hand down between the two of you and you pivoted your head to see him.

“in all seriousness, i think we might have been the friends our moms see us to be because let me tell you, they see us differently than what we are having.” his words are replied with a hum as you added,

“i notice that too. glad we can be more civil in front of them.”

“we still could, you know.”

with the way you didn’t hold on to his wrist tightly, you felt the limb moving under your touch before his palm rested underneath your own. the wind blows against your sweaty top as it gives you shivers from the cold, hoping that your own temperature and a lifeline can help warm it up. and you can feel it warmer as you see heeseung pivot to mirror you. his fingers slid between yours as if he knew the little shivered breath you led out.

“have each other’s backs. emulate what they want.”

your eyes are galloping to the way the spotlight shines half of his as the other one is cast in shadows from facing the concrete. you could smell a faint scent of alcohol on him but with the life in his eyes, you knew he wasn’t drunk. the way his eyes are also peering with slight twitches as before connecting with your gaze.

pushing one side of your upper body, you cup onto heeseung’s cheek as he leans up to connect your lips. your shoulder is pushing down against the ground as heeseung’s grip on your hand tightens, making it steady as you can hear his muffled hum from your kiss. your fingers curl to hold yourself up better before you feel his other hand reach for your waist and push you down so you both lay on the side.

both of you take turns to take a breath as you sense the tip of his nose brushing against yours. every time you let out a breath, the other’s lips linger before connecting once. your legs curled as you felt the ticklish sensation surging through your nerves before heeseung pushed your lower back so it could stay for one last long kiss before he pulled away. your noses touch each other as you feel his hand on your waist trails to your bump, pressing it down gently as you lean back to see him looking down at the body he is holding. then, his eyes flick back to you as he can sense you slip away, turning yourself away from him as you push yourself up with your arms.

grabbing the lone basketball and putting it in the duffle bag, you zip it up and shift to find heeseung now upright, yet still with his legs stretched out on the ground.

“baby steps, heeseung.” you pull away before giving a small salute.

“baby steps.”

your voice echoes as heeseung watches you walk away, biting his bottom lip before a chuckle falls out of him as he knows he had to text you back his question about the appointment, knowing that you will reply to him.

-

beomgyu breathed out as the elevator opened up to the now familiar hallway, holding onto the box that he had still had to bring even if heeseung already told him he’ll do the next one himself because of what he told him. the box held fresh ingredients that jeongin also pinpoint—courtesy of his doctor mom—on what you should eat, considering now that there are two of them inside you. beomgyu couldn’t help but feel melancholic knowing that this was the last time he’d probably visit your apartment complex as… well…

but, other than bringing you today’s box, beomgyu is here to pick you up for the doula appointment as heeseung will follow suit after practice. even his bandmates are weirded out as to why he has to do the errands, but knowing that they’re in the process of rest mode whilst preparing to create new music and focusing on academics, he allows it, especially with how long he has been best friends with the guy.

he huffs as he positions the box again against his upper body, sliding his pointer finger to the bell as he picks up the familiar bell sounding in the room. but it seems like there’s no one inside. he’s glad that he remembers the pin ryujin has given him as he pushes inside the door to see the clean empty living room of the apartment he has been in countless times when he had to put the box in himself. pushing off his shoes, he walks to the kitchen and places the box on the island counter before rushing towards the intercom to turn off the bell.

that’s when he heard the noise of something familiar.

a guitar strumming sound of chords and the changes he recognized.

beomgyu took tiny steps towards one of the ajar doors in the hallway as the realization of the familiar sound widened his eyes. of course it was familiar to him, it was his song.

the nearly acoustic rendition of “skipping stones” with a familiar voice he had heard makes him peek through the door to find you sitting cross-legged on your bed, holding a nearly all-white guitar as you strum while having headphones on your head, singing the daylights out as your window lets the stream of lights in through the window. he lets you sing as he can see you glow—jeongin had mentioned to him that pregnant women have this whole glow on them. maybe that’s what he was seeing in you. the way your fingers glide against the fretboard with your eyes on it or close as you sing the lyrics makes beomgyu mesmerized.

the last ring of strings strummed is heard from your rumble speaker when you notice clapping from outside of your headphones, making you look up to find beomgyu behind your slightly open door. his clapping turns to hollering as lets out a wide thin smile before looking away; you don’t want him to see you flustered. that is when you realize why you’re here.

“oh fuck, the doula appointment.”

“yeah!” beomgyu replies outside as you quickly tidy the guitar up into your case and you step into your wardrobe to grab some more clothes that are much more appropriate for your appointment.

“sorry, about that. beom.”

“nah, no worries. i can wait.”

“thanks!” you close the door as you quickly change your clothes, deciding for a flowy blouse with a rubber-banded culotte, needing to remind yourself to buy maternity clothes because you are slowly running out of clothes that fit you. you wore a bit of sunscreen as you got a message from mama telling you to embrace the pregnancy glow your friends seemed to notice is exuding out of you as you’re in the second trimester. wearing the eau du toilette that doesn’t make you as dizzy—unlike perfume—you open the door to see beomgyu leaning against the wall where it hangs a frame of you and your roommates in photo booths.

“you ready?” he held his hand out as you nodded, you put your hands out before beomgyu grabbed the strap of the bag from your hold, startling you before you returned to your usual state. if your face isn’t warm enough, it’s now warmer from the embarrassment.

the walk down to his car is silent as he helps with buckling the seatbelt to the side. seeing how much your stomach is rested underneath the strap makes him giggle as you recognize the smell of pot from beomgyu’s very appropriate old sedan car.

“hopefully you aren’t high while driving me.” you give a cheeky grin.

“of course not. heeseung will actually kill me if he finds that i dui with you.”

beomgyu twists the key of the ignition as the car turns on—yes, that’s how old his car is—as the sound of a loud rock song plays from the rock fm you recognized. his hand reaches for the button as you react,

“no need. i’m okay with it.”

he hums as he reaches for the volume to turn the sound down, not letting the rattling of the sound in the interior startle you as he pulls the car out of the parking space and into the road.

“can you check the quickest route to the office?” beomgyu said as he brushed his wolf-cut hair.

“of course.” you lean back against the leather seat as you open the map app on your phone, telling beomgyu the roads to the doula’s office. the song has changed to a familiar song by tom petty playing as you notice how beomgyu glances at you.

“what?” you called out with a few chuckles.

“i didn’t expect you to like my song, well txt’s song.” his reply is met with your own giggle as you lean back.

“even if i hate heeseung. that doesn’t mean i have to hate his friends, you know?”

your eyebrow is raised as he gives another quick look before focusing on the road, “if you don’t believe me, i’ve been a fan of band your band since, like, sophomore year when you formed.”

“why? i really wanna hear from a fan's perspective.”

your giggle warms his heart as you answered, “i just relate to it, ya hear? a band that talks about the hardships of finding oneself and the struggle of growing but in a more intelligible way other, especially ‘skipping stones’ from your newest album.”

both of beomgyu’s hands are on the steering wheel as you feel the brake of the car before turning to the curb of where the office is, parking nearest to the entrance as the car stops and he pulls the hand brake. both of you sitting inside as you waited for heeseung to arrive in a few minutes from the last time he texted you.

“why ‘skipping stones’ specifically?”

“hmm…” you suppressed the grin that is threatening to go out before replying with, “interpreting self-struggle with the idea of skipping stone is… in it of itself, very poignant. to correlate the body of water with your own and the stones you’re throwing as the struggle you’re facing.” you let out a huge sigh, “i don’t know- it’s something i understand, especially if someone else is doing the skipping stone to you, feeling that emotion sinking into you, replacing the water’s place…”

you glanced at beomgyu who was definitely staring at you, his hands on his lap as he let out a solemn smile, agreeing with what you said. you quietly nod and take a sharp intake, trying to find the right words to cut the rising awkwardness between the two of you, “other than that, the freaking dissonance on the harmony is so good. it gives a sense of unbalanced buoyancy as if you’re a leaf floating on the water and the skipping stone makes it unstable. great job on that.”

“thanks!”

“of course.” you nearly slapped yourself for leaning closer to the middle console, but beomgyu seemed to not react as much when you felt a bit of your finger touching his. “can’t wait for the next release. no pressure.”

the corner of beomgyu’s lips rose as he giggled, a boyish grin on his face before his expression changed, “don’t worry, me and the band won’t let the fans down.” he replied as you leaned back, head nodding. that’s when you hear the rumbling of the car right beside yours as you see the appearance of heeseung’s newer model car.

“gotta go. thank you so much for bringing me here,” you said as beomgyu helped pick your bag up from the backseat.

“of course, (y/n). gotta have to thank heeseung for letting me do so, but hey…” you felt his hand reaching and now touching your wrist, making you turn your body while nearly opening the door.

“i've known you since high school but we never hang out together cause of heeseung. maybe we could hang out, with your girls and my guys? if heeseung is already melting his ice down then i think that’s okay for us and our friends to hang out. it’s up to you, though.”

you suppress an amused smile as you think about it. thinking about how long have you been crushing on the boy in front of you and how you wanna shake heeseung a thank you for letting him do the errands, maybe even to your noise-canceling headphones that make him notice just how much you like him- no, his band. yeah.

“i’ll think about it. heeseung and i don’t have a formal truce yet but based on what we talked about last time, maybe it could work.”

“sweet-“

you heard a knocking on the door before you turned around to catch heeseung’s silhouette behind the glass window.

“i’ll talk to the girls so we can arrange a time.”

“me too with the guys.”

“okay, bye beomgyu.” the car door unlocks as you nuzzle the door open while hearing beomgyu’s own “bye” from the driver’s seat. heeseung helps to hold the door as you step out.

“thanks for her ride, gyu.”

“don’t mention it, hee. we might even have to ride with her often.” beomgyu said right as the door that heeseung held closed. the engine turns on as the car drives off the parking. you stand right beside heeseung as he looks at you, who still has a lingering smile on your face.

“why are you smiling, (y/n)?”

he lightly nudges your palm with his as you turn your head to him.

“you’ll see, hee.” as you took off towards the office, leaving heeseung once again alone as he then followed you.

part 2

taglist: @raeyunshm @leilasmom @evidive @boba-beom @kwiwin @endzii23 @fluffyywoo @camipendragon @hiqhkey @wccycc @cha0thicpisces @y4wnjunz @yeehawnana @beansworldsstuff @kimipxl @blurryriki @amazzwon @reallysmolrenjun @stelanity @possibly-zoe0218 @enhypenilycometoaus @jaysupremacy @jungwoneez

© writingmochi on tumblr, 2021-2024. all rights reserved

[hwanchaesong]

↗🏢 Entering 1st floor: Lost in the crowd, blurry eyes and pink lips, wrongs paths and right person, and now you're saved in his arms. 🌌

🎧: Chase Atlantic - Paradise

wc: 1.6k

genre & warnings: fluff, angst, suggestive, university setting, strangers to lovers au, mentions of alcohol, party, cursing, themes of marriage, appearance of other idols etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The Paradise Hotel series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

"Am I sweating too much? Is my suit wrinkled? Are m-"

"Hyung, shut the fuck up. You're fine." Beomgyu cuts off Soobin's yapping, rolling his eyes at the older's unsolicited panicking.

A comforting tap on his left shoulder gets Soobin's attention, "You need to calm down. It's your special day." Yeonjun, the oldest of the bunch, speaks up while the others nod their heads in agreement.

The male pouts, facing the mirror in front of him and he scans himself. He's handsome, that's given, but he couldn't help his nerves.

He closes his eyes in an attempt to cool his heated mind; remembering the moment when he first met you, the time when he knew he was in love, and the second he's sure that you're the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

---------------------------------------------------

It was a bright day but Soobin was rather gloomy on the inside because what the fuck? Where is he and where are his friends?

Surely, they didn't leave him alone in the amusement park, right?

Knowing his friends though, the possibility is sky high. Fucking pranksters.

He rubbed his temples in frustration, might as well walk around and enjoy himself, he did pay for the entrance fee.

Just then, a girl suddenly appeared. A girl in a pink sundress, sporting a big grin and two milkshakes. One of her arms is extended towards him, a kind gesture of offering him a drink.

"Uh..?" he stammers, not really knowing how to handle a situation like this.

"Here!" you shove the large plastic cup in his hand, "You look thirsty."

"Oh, thank you but I'm not t-"

"Yes, you are thirsty." you flat out rejected his rejection, and he was dumbfounded because he has never met someone like this before... and it's akin to that of inhaling fresh air from the mountains.

He stares at you, yeah, maybe he'll appreciate your company.

He found his friends after a few hours, with your help of course, and it's safe to say that his rambling about them losing him and not bothering to look for him was astounding. (in an adorable way)

---------------------------------------------------

His second meeting with you was nothing more than a godsent chance, in a frat party of his university that he was forced to be at, courtesy of Yeonjun, the most popular frat boy of their college.

He was sitting quietly in a corner, nursing his red cup of alcohol concoction, observing the swarm of people on the dance floor, swaying to the beat of some rock music blaring through the speakers of the house.

He sighs, this is boring as hell, then his eyes light up when he sees your familiar figure across the room. Then it went droopy when he noticed the guy beside you.

Wait a damn minute.

You look uncomfortable as fuck.

Soobin is not weak, but by all means, he avoids conflicts. He's docile like that, but his head was empty when he decided to walk over to you with a newfound confidence due to the liquid courage in his system.

"Hey, Y/N." he greets with a light smile, and he felt pride in his chest when he saw your hopeful expression.

You were about to reply to him, but the male beside you rudely interrupted the meeting.

"Man, can't you see we're busy here?" the man slurs, clearly drunk and for some reason, Soobin was pissed at the way your features withered just because of some asshole's words.

"What I'm seeing here is that you're invading her personal space." he utters threateningly, the polar opposite of his usual gentle way of speaking.

If there is one thing that he'll forever thank the heavens for, it'll be his height. He towers over the other man, and it was enough to intimidate the jackass.

"Yup!" you saw the opportunity to escape from the arms of your former partner, "Excuse us, Sunghoon, we'll be going now."

You stood up, grabbed Soobin's arms and dragged him out on the terrace of the house, "Thank you so much for saving me back there." you mumbled, shaking slightly from the cold, your thin outfit ain't shielding you from the winter breeze.

Then, you feel something warm draped over your shoulders, the orange-ish scent fills you with a sense of tranquil.

"It's nothing, it's a man's duty to protect a lady." he says jokingly, but your gut tells you that he meant it.

You took the initiative to step a little bit closer to him, bumping your shoulders onto his arm, "You're like a knight in shining armor then."

He hums, tilting his head so he could see you better, and the way you're gazing at him makes his heart beat a wad faster.

How could someone be so beautiful under some shitty lighting and an oversized (his) jacket.

"Am I?" he whispers, soft voice tickling the butterflies in your stomach.

"Yeah, my knight in shining armor."

That must make you his damsel in distress.

You are not good for his delicate soul, yet he knew that it was the end for him when you used that damned possessive noun.

A fragile yet thorny sentiment was planted, and now he's about to water and grow it.

---------------------------------------------------

Soobin is well-aware of his feelings for you, and there's no hour where he's not fretting about it. He is always thinking of ways to confess, to make you his, because he is convinced that the universe made you two meet.

Call him a delulu but he firmly believes that you are his soulmate.

As usual, instead of sleeping, his mind is in an overdrive, thinking of you all day and all night.

He tossed and turned in his bed, he has morning classes tomorrow at fucking 7:30 am. Really, who in their right minds would teach that early?

His phone then started ringing, scaring the wits out of him. Again, who in their right fucking minds w-

Never mind, it's you.

He immediately answers the call, then he hears you sobbing and muttering incoherent sentences until he makes out a vague 'I'm outside your apartment.'

Never the sporty one but he was faster than flash when he shot up from his bed to open the door for you, and there you were. Standing in the middle of his small yard— puffy eyes, red nose, pink lips, wrecked appearance yet in his eyes, you're still gorgeous as ever.

"Soobin!" you cried out, throwing yourself in his arms, and he easily caught you, letting in his flat as he shuts the door close with his foot.

"What's happening? Are you alright?" he worriedly asks, threading his fingers on your smooth strands, doing his best to pacify your problems away.

"I can't lose you." you murmur, and he felt his heart stop along with the rotation of the earth. Is he hearing things now? Had he gone insane?

When Soobin remained silent, you continued to ramble in his chest, hugging him tightly, "I-I heard from some people in our uni that Yeri will be confessing to you. I don't w-want that!" you hiccup, and he discerns that you probably had a few drinks before coming here.

"Y/N." he gently called your name, and you craned your neck to face him, only for Soobin to give you the most loving kiss you had ever experienced.

Everything about the kiss is surreal. Magical, enchanting, one that can be only given to you by your destined person.

"I don't care about that or her." he fondly cradles your cheeks in his cozy palms, "I only care about you, my princess, my damsel in distress. I am your knight in shining armor, after all."

If you needed more assurance, he gladly showed you that for the rest of the night. He made you realize how much he loves you. With simple touches, messy tongue and teeth filled kisses, and passionate love-making.

He had you writhing under him, and even in your sweaty and tousled condition, he still finds you to be an absolute masterpiece.

Soobin worshiped your body, kissing and licking every corner, your skin was a former blank canvas that he happily painted in luxurious hues of the sky and wine.

At the end of it all, he has you enveloped in his arms. He has you in his life, sleeping peacefully. His pretty, pretty princess that he swore to protect with all his might until you're grey and old.

---------------------------------------------------

"Hyung, let's go. It's about to start." Huening Kai nudged Soobin, slightly startling him from his daydreaming. His eyes were wide open, anxious yet still complied when he was hauled out of the dressing room.

He stood like a statue at the end of the aisle, he was focusing on a piece of flower that had fallen from the arrangement displayed at the altar.

The sound of the metallic doors opening and the classical music playing sent shivers down his spine.

He slowly turns around, his eyes locking in yours and the surroundings are serene once again.

He watches you walk down the red carpet, wearing the most exquisite white gown that you have specially curated for the occasion. A white veil covers your face, and Soobin doesn't need to remove it to see how much of an angel you are.

The girl of his dreams that makes his dreams come true, if that even makes sense, but that's what he'll describe you despite the lack of adjectives to represent a treasure like you.

Soobin is no genius nor a champion, he is not the richest man on earth, no, yet he knows that he's lucky enough to be alive in this utopia with you.

Real heaven starts with you, his paradise.

taglist:

@hyunjinheartbreakprince @lun4kazumii @once27 @purrplegyuu @yawnzsof @shakalakaboomboo @baeksofty

[callimara]

The Characters

Main Cast

▶ Height Chart

Kirana Putri Anggraini

A full-time registered nurse and the holder of the Snake Aegis. She is 25 years old and has lived in Bougainville for the past 5 years to work at Bougainville General. Kirana is of Indonesian (half-Javanese, half-Balinese) descent: born and raised in Jogjakarta before undertaking her bachelor's degree in Paris. She has since gained permanent residence in France. Kirana is a sweet, kind, and motherly individual. She is empathetic and cares deeply for others: she will always extend a helping hand to those in need. Her family means more to her than anything in the world and she does her best to do right by them; even if it means pushing herself far too much. Though it can be challenging to live and work in a town where everyone perceives you as... Different, she tries her best to not let it affect her. Even when it does, deep down... She is very humble, though whether it's genuine humility or a genuine fear of standing out remains to be seen. But one thing everyone knows about her is her large appetite and love of food! She perceives food as an important part of culture and forming connections (which is a very fortunate common thread to have). So if she invites you for a coffee or lunch, be sure to say yes!

Learn more about Ulara!

Clara De Vries

A struggling artist who performs at cafes and bars - and occasionally sidewalks – all over town. She is the holder of the Songbird Aegis; 24 years old and a new face in town. Originally from Amsterdam, she arrived in Bougainville with nothing but the clothes on her back (quite literally). She is desperate to put her past behind her and move on to greener pastures. Clara wears her heart on her sleeve and is quick to give it away (which is often the cause of her troubles.) She craves affection and connection; but past experiences have given her a more pessimistic view on her chances of finding it. Yet still, she readily accepts it from anyone who offers: desperately. She is deeply troubled; though what it is that troubles her or why, she will never say. Perhaps it is her money trouble, or trouble finding a safe place to sleep, or any combination of the two: she is often lost in her own thoughts; slightly scatterbrained and distracted. But she truly comes to life when she is singing and playing music. Recently she learned of a full-ride music scholarship from Bougainvillea University. Perhaps it will finally help her turn her life around...

Learn more about Nightingale!

Natasha "Amber" Vasilieva

A park ranger and holder of the Tiger Aegis. She is 28 years old and is a military veteran of the Russian armed forces. She was discharged after being diagnosed with PTSD and Broca's Aphasia from a traumatic head injury while on active duty. To aid in her recovery, she had moved to the quiet, peaceful town of Bougainville for a job at the Emilie Francoise Nature Reserve: away from large crowds and loud noises. It has been several years since then. She was not as angry as she used to be; but living with her new disabilities still vexes her from to time to time. Amber is determined to get through her recovery as fast as she possibly can, but her progress is slow; a part of her fears that... She might never be the same person she was before. Despite this, she remains stoic and unshaken on the outside. Amber is severe and intimidating, even when she doesn't mean to be. If she can just learn to talk again... Maybe she wouldn't be stuck twiddling her thumbs in the middle of nowhere.

Learn more about Amura!

Colette Le Gautier

A student at Bougainvillea University? Who knows. Colette is very evasive about what she does. 26 years old and the holder of the Cat Aegis, she has an eclectic set of skills in her resume; one of which being a top gymnast for the Bougainvillea University's gymnastics team. Clever, quick-witted, and calculating; Colette uses her words carefully and purposefully. A social butterfly that fits into any social circle, but a recluse when it comes to her personal life. No one never really knows Colette. There is something unnerving about her: a certain pressure that could put anyone on edge. Is it her striking beauty? Her demand for perfection? Her uncanny ability to make someone want to please her regardless? Or something else? But one thing is certain: she looks out for no one but herself. So what is it does she hope to find in a small, quaint town like Bougainville?

Learn more about Felle Noire!

Supporting Cast

Carter Bishop

Carter is one of the library assistants at the Bougainville University Library, and has quickly become a popular fixture there; despite having only started in the last couple of months. He appears to be in his late twenties, and speaks with an extremely upper class British accent. He speaks fluent French with little difficulty, and is diligent and dedicated in his work. He tends to keep to himself most of the time, but he is pleasant to interact with: personable and friendly, albeit with a typical British dry wit. He is quick to help anybody who needs it, and his aid has already saved more than a few last-minute studiers with their coursework!

Elias Wright

Elias is the foul-tempered, acerbic chef in the local bistro, having already made a name for himself thanks to his explosive temper and overwhelming presence. The only thing that exceeds his apparently endless reserves of rage is his skill for cooking; the food in the bistro has taken a notable turn for the better, though whether that's from his skill, his leadership or simply the fact that the other cooks are terrified of angering him with sub-par products remains to be seen. He appears to be of American descent, and speaks with a difficult to place southern-states accent, but does not seem keen on sharing details. In dealings with people out and about town, he is prickly, standoffish and suspicious, preferring his own company to that of others. If he isn't shouting, then he's at least wearing a heavy scowl most of the time.

Markus Reiland

Markus is the suave, charming, popular bartender at the Bougainville watering hole, and is known probably intimately by most women - and half of the men - in town. His easygoing, charming demeanour, easy smile and dulcet tones have charmed more than their fair share of customers in any number of ways, and it seems like he always has his finger on the pulse of recent happenings in town. To be expected from the bartender who can wink and smile a secret out of anybody! He is eminently flirtatious and effortlessly charming, always ready with a wink, a smile and a flirtatious joke to anybody who crosses his path. He's a skilled cocktail mixer, and his party trick is making a custom cocktail for his customer based solely on his impressions of them as a person; he rarely misses, which just goes to show how easily he can read people. Unusually for rural France, he speaks with a thick hybrid accent, using many Louisianan cadences mixed with what appears to be an Iberian Spanish accent.

Casey Price

Casey is the bubbly and friendly waiter at the local vegan cafe, almost always being found on the morning and lunch shift. He's a friendly and talkative fellow who often chatters his customer's ear off with an earnest and sincere personability that makes it difficult to resist the urge to fall into conversation with him. He's a passionate animal-lover, extolling the virtues of vegetarianism to anybody who asks, but he is not one to judge or evangelise if the subject has not come up naturally. His accent seems to be from the American continent, though whether north-States or southern-Canadian is a little hard to tell at times. He's a little dorky, often tripping over his words in his excitement to say them, and often talks about his dreams of one day becoming a vet, or working in conservation...if he can find the time and money to go to school for the qualifications, that is!

▶ Wildward Master Post

[elliespeach]

meet cutes with modern!ellie

the black diamond slope  

you decided to tackle the hardest slope on the mountain, after boasting to your friends that you were perfectly capable. the truth was, you barely could go down the moderate slopes, but you wanted to prove a point. when you reached the top of the mountain, there were only about half a dozen other people attempting the slope, which made you nervous. as you started to go down the mountain, you took your time; your friends be damned. the snow was whipping you in the face regardless and it was getting hard to make out just exactly where you were going. everything was going perfect until a snowboarder came into your path, taking you both out. you both rolled for a bit before slowing to a stop on the side of the mountain, snow reaching places that made you shiver uncontrollably. the snowboarder got up first, unphased by the collision and you expected them to take off but they came to your side– a sweet voice attached to the culprit. 

“jesus, are you okay?” she whipped off her helmet and auburn hair came rushing down around her face, you expected a dude-bro, not a pretty girl. you managed to get yours off while you sat up straight, and her face softened even more than it already was. “that was totally my bad.” 

“i’m good,” you rushed out, and despite the cold your face was now burning hot as she spoke to you. she extended her arm to help you up, which you happily accepted. “get me a hot chocolate down in the lodge and i’ll forgive you,” and the auburn hair girl laughed while telling you she’d get you anything you wanted as long as you never told anyone she totally wiped out. 

the magicians ‘volunteers’ 

the boardwalk was packed with people and as you walked down the seemingly never ending strip, a magic show caught your eye. normally, you’d keep walking but he was attempting hypnosis and it piqued your curiosity. you got comfortable in the crowd of people swarmed around him on his little make-shift stage and watched as he searched the crowd for volunteers. immediately, you bowed your head, not wanting to be a part of this random guys show. but as if the universe had plans, he pointed to you, “girl! yes, you! with the silly crochet tote bag!” your eyes met his embarrassingly and before you could say no, he was practically pulling you up onto the platform. “okay… one more.” his finger bounced off people in the crowd, a large number of people were begging to be his next volunteer, but again he picked the most disinterested girl. 

she was pretty, and had freckles all along her cheeks and forehead that no doubt multiplied by the scorching sun. she denied it at first, just like you had but the magician was insistent and pulled her on stage as well. you both stood awkwardly next to each other, and when your head turned to face her she gave you a look that might as well have screamed, “what the fuck is going on?” 

you shrugged, laughing just a bit while the magician talked to the crowd. you whispered to her, “follow my lead, yeah?” this guy was going to regret picking you. the girl next to you nodded, a sly smile on her face as well. 

when he started to ‘hypnotize’ you, you slumped your head as they do in the movies and you could hear the crowd gasp as if it was something magical, you refrained from laughing and heard him walk past you to your fellow volunteer. you assume she did what you did by the crowd's reactions and when the magician snapped his fingers and shouted, “now act like scared ducks!”

you brought your head up and immediately turned to the freckled girl next to you, grabbing her face and pulling her into a kiss. you didn’t stop there because you dipped her, again like they do in movies. she reacted well enough, soon kissing you back before the magician started to scramble. “no, no! thats not–” he panicked, “off my stage!” you broke the kiss and both of you were laughing as he shoo’d you off the stage, him muttering apologizes to the crowd as you both ran off. 

the grocery store shuffle

the last thing on your list was bread and as you turned down the isle, basket in hand, you eyed the bread you needed. it was just past the very attractive girl contemplating what pasta she wanted to buy, her fingers on her chin as if it was some big decision. as you began to walk down the isle, she grabbed a random box, throwing it into her own basket before turning in your direction to walk the other way. you both were going at each other head on and when you stepped to the side to allow her to pass, she did the same. you weakly smiled and stepped in the opposite direction, to which she also copied, trying to let you go ahead. and then you both did it again before she laughed, extending her arms dramatically. “stay there, i’ll go–” and she brushed past you. you looked back only to find her doing the same thing and a blush spread across her face as she whipped her head back around. 

when you were finished and ready to leave, self-checkout was the shortest line, but as you went to pay you realized the twenty dollar bill you slipped into your wallet was actually a ten, and you were short four dollars. “fuck,” you said, looking at your items to decide which to leave behind. the pasta girl, who was checking out right next to you, noticed this and offered you a five. “no, no it’s fine. i don’t need bread anyway–” 

“you almost ran me down trying to get it, just take it,” she smiled at you, and your face turned hot. as you reached for the five she snaked it back playfully, “my only condition is that you come get drinks with me later.” 

that crappy apartment door 

knocking on your neighbors door was the last thing you wanted to. especially when you were only in a towel, dripping wet from your shower. your amazon package had arrived while you were singing your heart out and when you saw the notification you were more than excited, running to your door and grabbing the package. only thing is, your apartment door locks as soon as its closed and you were now locked out of your place. it sucked even more because you were a newer tenet, it’s not even like you had someone you knew around. so while you knocked on your across-the-hall neighbor, you thought about just throwing yourself off of the building. 

before you could commit to such an idea, the door opened revealing someone you hadn’t expected. she was pretty with auburn hair that was tucked messily into a low bun, a few strands dangling beside her face. instantly, you wanted to turn around and just start breaking your door in. anything so that you wouldn’t have to talk to this girl while you were literally butt naked. but she had a inquisitive smile on her face and leaned against her door frame, “not how i expected to meet my new neighbor,” 

“i got locked out of my place,” 

“i can see that,” she crossed her arms, “just how exactly did that happen?” 

“these stupid fucking doors lock automatically, i mean how was i suppose to know that.” 

“its on the lease,” she mocked and your eyes rolled. she could see your desperation and dropped the act, “cmon, i’ll call our landlord, you can borrow some of my clothes in the meantime, guy takes forever to get here when i do that.”

[writeonwhiskey]

Campaign For Love (Jeongin One-Shot)

a/n: i received an ask three days ago from @ilov3jeong1n. the request? enemies to lover/academic rivals with Jeongin. as i started writing, i quickly realized this was going to be longer than a drabble. apparently I can't keep it short. anyways, hope you enjoy!

word count: 3,729

genre: fluff / romance / humor / high school love

warning: not proofread.

song: my universe - stray kids (seungmin, i.n, changbin)

Campaign For Love

REGISTRATION

You can still recall, with great clarity, the first moment you saw him. It was two weeks before freshman year began and you were on campus helping prepare for the welcome back barbecue. It was disgustingly hot out. You were wearing a pair of jean shorts and a school t-shirt, kneeling over a large paper banner—holding a brush, legs and hands covered in paint. 

“Just the person I was looking for,” you heard the familiar voice of the principal approaching. “Y/n.”

You looked up when he called your name. He was walking towards you with a boy at his side. You instantly assumed he was new. You had been going to the same prestigious K-12 private school since kindergarten and you did not recognize him. He was wearing a pair of white sneakers, light blue jeans cuffed at the bottom and ripped at one knee, a black t-shirt tucked into his pants and a black belt. A dainty silver necklace hung from his neck, silver rings on a couple of fingers. His strawberry blond hair was parted down the middle and perfectly in place.

Yeah…you definitely hadn’t seen him around before. 

“Yes, Principal Park?” You sat the paint brush down and stood to address him.

“This is our newest student. Jeongin Yang,” he told you, gesturing to the boy at his side. 

“Nice to meet you,” you say, extending a hand. 

He reached out to shake your hand. His hand was soft, you remember that. 

“Likewise,” he replied with wide smile, braces on his teeth and deep dimples that made you forget to breathe. 

“We’re lucky to have a mind like his joining our school. He’s exceptionally brilliant, I’m sure you two will get along well.” Principal Park said, laughing as he added, “He might just give you a run for your money.”

Your ears perked up at that. You always had the tops marks in your grade and have had your eyes set on being named valedictorian since you learned what it was. Your first thought was if this boy was going to be a problem.

The boy just smiled, and you said nothing, just continued to size him up.

“Right. Anyways,” Principal Park continued, “I’d like you to give him a tour of the school. Get him acclimated before the first day.”

You nodded your acceptance with a tight lipped smile.

“Perfect. I’ll leave you to it. Mr. Yang,” he and Jeongin shook hands. He started to walk away before stopping in his tracks and turning around. “Just remember to have that fixed by the next time I see you.” He pointed to his hair. 

“Yes, of course, sir.” Jeongin replied. 

When it was just the two of you, you jerked your head in the opposite direction. 

“Come on then,” you said. 

He kept up with your stride as you took him around the school: cafeteria, gymnasium, locker room, library, freshman locker area, etc., the whole works. He told you his family just moved to the area and other random facts about him but the things that stuck with you the most was that he planned to join several school clubs and to try out for the soccer team. Essentially, he wanted to be a good candidate when applying for college in a couple years.  

By the end of the tour, he was officially on your radar. 

You ended the tour back where you started and he thanked you for your time. 

“See you on the first day?” He asked, beaming that metal-filled smile.

“Yeah. Feel free to ask me anything if you need help or get lost.” You said dutifully.

He nodded his head before stepping around the banner on his way out. He looked down at it and smirked. “Your ‘W’ is crooked.”

DECLARING CANDIDACY

Over the next three years you and Jeongin developed a rivalry and it frustrated you to no end. You had never before felt so concerned about anyone else beating you academically until he showed up. On the first day of freshman year he walked in like he owned the place. You almost didn’t recognize him in uniform—pleated grey pants, white collared shirt, black tie and navy blue vest and blazer. His hair was died brown, too.

To make matters worse, he was in most of your AP classes and true to his word had joined several after school clubs, making sure you saw more of him throughout the day than you wanted to. For the last three torturous years. 

He was always goading you, teasing you. And after he finally got his braces off, any time he smiled at you, you felt like you might actually die. You found it unbearably annoying, how off guard it would make you. He grew taller, developed more muscle (maybe, you assume…you weren’t checking or anything), and had so many girls in the school fawning over him.

The more time you spent around him, the more you realized how right Principal Park was. Jeongin was exceptionally brilliant. It encouraged you to push yourself even harder to succeed…well, over achieve really, at this point. 

It’s now nearing the end of junior year and after the morning calculus class you share, Jeongin calls out to you as you exit the room.

“Hey,” he says when you turn to face him, beaming that stupid and perfect smile of his, making you feel woozy. “I have a question for you.”

“No you can’t copy my homework,” you tease dryly. 

“Yeah, okay,” he scoffs, tossing his head back. “I’ll be sure to do that if I wanna get something wrong.”

You grit your teeth, tugging on the straps of your backpack. This is your fault, really. You shouldn’t have asked him to share his homework and test scores. You started a fire between you two that you couldn’t put out. Now you’re always comparing your grades with each other. 

“What do you need?” You spit out.

“Sheesh, down girl,” he puts his hands up in defense. “What happened to ‘come to you if I needed anything’ hmmm?”

“That was before you starting popping up in every facet of my life for three years, Jeongin,” you reply. “What can I help you with?”

He smiles again, dimples digging into your soul.

“How does one run for class president?”

Your hands drop from the straps of your backpack, your mouth goes slack. He’s got to be joking, right? You’ve ran and been elected class president the last three years in a row and you planned to do again for senior year. 

Now here comes this boy, this disgustingly handsome, intelligent boy that wants to rip it out from under you. 

“Are you serious?” You ask.

“As Harry Potter’s godfather,” he jokes, placing a hand over his heart. 

You ignore his attempt at humor.

“You’re going to run against me?”

He shrugs, “I’m just running in general…if it’s against you then, so be it. Who doesn’t like a little friendly competition?”

You. You don’t like it. Not with him. 

“You can sign up with the front office staff, they’ll give you all the information you need,” you tell him, trying to contain your rising anger. 

He was on your radar before. But now he’s in your crosshairs. 

PRIMARIES

The following week on Friday, you stay after school to start hanging your posters around campus with a couple of friends. Jeongin and the other two candidates are roaming the halls doing the same. You’re trying to lock down the most prime real estate spots for advertisement around the school. 

As you’re walking towards the entrance door to the cafeteria, you see Jeongin in front of you. His eyes dart from the cafeteria door to you, then back. He starts picking up his pace, so you do too. You’re both speed walking before breaking into an all out run. You dash around a pillar, he jumps over a bench in the courtyard. 

You both get to the door at the same time, but you slap your poster up first and turn around to give him a smug smile. 

“Inside window is better,” he says nonchalantly. He opens the door and places his poster on the interior window, then closes it. “On the way in, they’re hangry. On the way out? Full bellies, happy to see who they should vote for.”

“We will see,” you match his nonchalance. 

“You’re cute when you’re annoyed,” he cocks his head to side, smiling.

His words surprise you, causing a look of shock and confusion to take over your features. 

“That’s a cute one too.” He tells you and you feel more heat rising to your cheeks. He holds out one of his posters to you—his smiling face plastered in the center, thumbs pointing to himself with the words, ‘Jeongin Will Go The Extra Mile To Make You Smile’ on it. “Can you put one of these in the girls locker room?”

You give a short, forced laugh. “That slogan seems wildly inappropriate for that location. No, thank you.”

“Alright…if you don’t want a fair competition,” he shrugs. 

You snatch the poster from him forcefully, yet gently enough not to damage it. 

“You’re annoying when you’re annoying.” You say and turn around before he can reply.

Target engaged.

CAUCUS

As if there wasn’t enough tension between you and Jeongin, your AP History professor has forced the two of you to pair up on a group project. You have both already narrowed down discussion topics, now you just have to work on your presentation slides. So today, you’re waiting in the library for what feels like an eternity. After thirty minutes pass and you haven’t heard from him, you start to wonder what’s keeping him. 

You pull out your phone and send him a text. 

YOU Where are you?  It’s already 4:30.

ANNOYANG I’m sorry. Something came up.  Had to leave early. Can you  come to my place?

You want to stew in your irritation for a moment, but the more sensible part of your brain wonders if everything is okay.

———————-

When Jeongin opens the door to his house, the first thing you notice is the thick, black, square framed glasses he's wearing. You didn’t even know he wore contacts. You find it cute. Then find it irritating that you find it cute. It’s the same vicious cycle you’re always caught in around him. 

Inside his house is somewhat as you expected. It feels very traditional, with everything seemingly in its proper place. 

As you’re taking off your shoes, a small child comes barreling down the hallway, with a piece of paper in his hand.

They look almost exactly alike.

“Who are you?” The mini-Jeongin comes to a halt and asks. 

“Ya. Manners.” Jeongin speaks to him in Korean. 

“I mean…” the boy corrects, “Nice to meet you. Whoever you are.”

You laugh. 

The little boy hands the paper to Jeongin. 

“This is my little brother, Joon.”

You didn’t even know Jeongin had a little brother.

“Hi, Joon. I’m y/n,” you greet him. 

Jeongin looks over the paper—the boys homework apparently—before nodding his approval. 

“Good job. You can go on your iPad for an hour, then you gotta read for a little, then I’ll make dinner. Deal?”

“Deal.” Joon takes the paper and runs off back down the hallway. 

“My room is this way,” he leads the way through the living room and down the hall. 

“Is that why you had to leave early?” You ask as he pushes the door open to his room and waits for you to enter. “To watch your little brother?”

You look around the room—it’s pretty bare. His bed is pushed against a wall near the window, there’s a nightstand, and his computer desk. Above the desk is a Cornell t-shirt, probably for inspiration. He’s mentioned it’s the college he wants to get into.

“Yeah, my dad had a doctor’s appointment, my mom had to take him, and I completely spaced that I was supposed to watch Joon today.” He tells you. 

“Is everything okay?” You ask, allowing the genuine concern to seep through your tone.

“We hope so,” he says truthfully.

In all the three years you had known him, you knew so little about his home life. You start to contemplate that fact, but he speaks up again before you sink too deep into it. 

“You can sit at the desk.”

You take a seat and pull out your laptop to get to work.

Jeongin sits on his bed, leaning against the wall with his laptop resting on his thighs. You’re working—you starting on the slides as Jeongin finds accompanying photos.

At times it’s silent, at times you discuss the assignment. Either way, it’s comfortable. You can’t deny that the past few times you’ve been together working on the assignment there is a certain easiness to it. You can almost forget that you’re still annoyed with him for deciding to run against you out of the blue.

“I can’t get these images to align,” you say, pushing your laptop away in frustration. 

Jeongin stands from the bed and comes up behind you. He places his hand on the back of the chair and leans over you. He pulls the laptop back in place, looking to see what you mean. 

He steps to the side and reaches across you. Your breath hitches in your throat at his close proximity. He smells good. Your eyes are studying his side profile as he makes quick work of the problem. 

As if sensing your eyes on him, he snaps his head and turns to look at you, smirking when he catches you staring. You lean your head back a little, feeling the need to get your mouth as far away from him as possible before your body does something you don’t approve of. 

“Did you fix it?” You ask. 

“Of course,” he says, standing up straight. 

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. 

“Thanks,” you mutter.

“Always here to save your day.”

THE DEBATE

The following day all senior candidates participate in a debate during 6th period. You, Jeongin, and the other two candidates stand behind podiums in front of your peers. Both your mind and eyes keep drifting back to him throughout but you don’t miss a beat. When you’re asked a question you give an honest answer, as you always have. Students may ask for unrealistic things like fruit punch in the water fountain to which you respond it’s simply not feasible, but increased options, including healthy ones, in the vending machine are possible. 

Jeongin does well too. Of course he does. He’s enigmatic in front of a crowd. And his smile, his adorable laugh, really welcomes people to engage with whatever he’s saying. 

When the debate is over, the students disburse. You shake hands with the other candidates and wish them luck with the election being tomorrow. 

“We made it to the end,” Jeongin says, shaking your hand. 

“I still don’t know why you even wanted to run—you’ve never been interested in any of this.”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, still holding onto your hand. “I have my interests, though.”

ELECTION DAY

You and Jeongin give a flawless presentation—no doubt in your mind you’ll both earn an ‘A’. 

At lunch, you go to the cafeteria to the designated voting stations. You’ll vote for Jeongin, of course. It wouldn’t be right to vote for yourself and you know he’d be great at the job. As you pick up a pencil and look over the ballot, your eyebrows furrow in confusion. His name is missing. You pick up another ballot to see if it’s a misprint. 

No, his name is truly not on it. You take the ballots to the guidance counselor watching over the voting area.

“The ballots are wrong,” you say, handing them to her. “Jeongin’s name isn’t on them.”

“They’re correct. He withdrew from the race.”

“What?” You ask, dumbfounded.  “Why?”

“I’m not sure, you’d have to ask him that.”

You sit the ballots on the table an storm out of the cafeteria in search of Jeongin. He’s in the courtyard with a group of friends.

“Yang,” you call out to him and gesture for him to come over. 

As he approaches, you take a few steps back towards an empty area near the lockers.

“What?” He asks, as if he doesn’t know. 

“Why did you drop out of the race?”

“Oh,” he shrugs. “You’re right. I wasn’t that interested in it.”

You feel rage boiling inside of you. Why had he put you through all of that then? 

“And you only figured it out last night?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I decided I want to express my interest elsewhere.”

You squint your eyes. If he says anything about trying to take your sport as valedictorian instead, you will lose your shit. 

“Where?” You ask. 

He takes a step towards you, and you take a step back. Your back ends up pressed against the lockers. He sticks his hand out against them and you audibly gulp as he leans in.

“Right here.” He says, his voice low. “I only ran to get your attention anyways.”

You lean your head back against the locker, locking eyes with him. 

“Yang.” You say flatly. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re smart, y/n, you can figure it out.”

“I don’t understand,” you shake your head. 

“You’ve taken competing with me to a whole new level in the last couple years.” He explains. “You hardly ever spoke to me unless it was about test scores.”

You look down at the ground. He’s right. 

“I know how bad you want this,” his voice is right next to your ear. 

Your eyes snap back up, a look of confusion on your face.

He chuckles, seeing your expression.

“I mean the presidency,” he lowers his hand and steps back, finally giving you some breathing room. “I wouldn’t really try to take that from you.”

You chew on your bottom lip, unsure what to say. 

“Just…keep that in mind.” He says. “I voted for you by the way.”

And he walks away.

The rest of the day goes by in a blur and you’re completely unfocused. In your last class, you’re announced the winner over the intercom. You smile and thank everyone as they cheer for you. But your mind is miles away. Your entire history and all the interactions with Jeongin have been flooding in. Had you been so caught up in your competitiveness that you couldn’t tell he had feelings for you?

After school, you head for the soccer field. Jeongin isn’t there yet. You sit on a bench and wait for him to arrive. When he does, you stand up and walk to meet him near the gate blocking the bleachers from the field. 

“Congratulations,” he says with a genuinely heart-warming smile. 

You take a deep breath, mustering up all the courage and wits you have within you. You grip his arms in your hands and push him back against the gate. He looks surprised this time. Even more so as you stand on your tiptoes. You shut your eyes and lean your head forward, placing a soft kiss on his lips. 

You feel a jolt of electricity shoot from your lips down to your toes and back up again. Your lips against his feels right. They’re soft, and plum, and he tastes minty fresh. 

You break the kiss and take a step back. 

“I think I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you admit. 

He chuckles and reaches forward, hooking a finger into your belt loop to pull you back against him. He lowers his head and kisses you again. You wrap your arms around his neck as his tongue snakes out, licking across your lips. You part them, allowing it to enter. You slide yours against his, moving your head in sync, leaning from left to right. 

There’s a faint, repeated sound of a whistle going off that makes you both break apart. Your eyes lock and you giggle, covering your mouth. He chuckles.

His coach calls for him and he releases your belt loop. 

“Call me tonight?” He asks.

“Okay,” you say, trying to hide your smile and failing. 

He places a quick peck on your cheek before taking off to the field. 

You feel like you’re soaring. 

INAUGURATION

The first week of senior year and you’re in your rightful position as class president. You’ve just wrapped up a meeting about budgets for the senior trip and prom. Everyone else has already left the room and you stayed behind to tidy up—pushing the chairs in, gathering trash. The door to the room opens and Jeongin enters. 

“Hey Prez,” he greets you with a smile. 

It still makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Hey,” you say, returning the gesture. 

“Shouldn’t you be making someone else clean?”

“Nah—they probably would half ass it. I’m done already anyways.” You tell him. “What are you still doing here?”

“I decided to wait for you.”

“Oh? Is that so?” 

He walks towards you, placing his hands on your hips.

“It is,” he replies, leaning down for a kiss. 

The butterflies in your stomach start to flutter. Truthfully they haven’t stopped since the first time you two kissed. 

When he breaks apart from you, he takes your hand in his. 

“Come on, let’s go grab a bite.”

He gives your hand a squeeze and starts to lead you out of the room. You bite your lip to keep a smile from spreading across your face still. You’re thankful he’s not watching. Senior Class President? No big deal. But this?

Your inaugural role as Jeongin Yang’s girlfriend. It’s new, uncharted territory. But you have no reason to worry. You don’t know it yet, but your blossoming love will defeat the test of time. He’ll be at your side throughout college, you’ll continue to push each other to do your best and succeed, you’ll be there for him when his dad passes, you’ll support him through his doctorate and eventually you’ll marry and start a family.

And to think, all it took was a little friendly competition. Yeah, you won the election and you will be named valedictorian. But he will always claim he beat you at falling in love.

------------------

a/n: how was that? this was fun to write! i will get to more asks between writing for my other fics. it's nice to have a break and play with other characters a bit 🩵

[novasintheroom]

112. Meeting

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 1k

♡ Warnings - none

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3

Part 1 (you are here!) ---- Part 2 ---- Part 3 ---- Part 4

You do your best impression of a confident young woman.

You’ve never been much of an actress.

Boots shaking and hands not much better, you stand in front of McDonough’s shop and the men who will guard you for the foreseeable future.

McDonough putters around his little baubles inside, muttering to himself through the open window and leaving you with the men. You’re waiting for a third party member apparently, and he’s late.

“So,” you try, ignoring the annoyance in their eyes when you speak, “what are your names?”

Silence.

They chew their tobacco like cattle, staring into the street of the town. A tomas blunders by with a loud bell ringing, but not too many people are out this time of day. The suns bake the skin too easily.

You clear your throat, uncomfortable.

“Mac,” the large man in front of you spits to the side. You assume that’s his name. He doesn’t offer a hand to shake but looks you up and down in that lewd way most men do. Your overalls and jacket help hide any figure he tries to find.

His friend steps to the side and lowers his head. “Don.” Same thing – no hand to shake, the same up-and-down stare from under the brim of his hat. He’s missing a front tooth. It must have been recent, the way his tongue keeps swiping over the spot.

The suns fry your head, and you look back and forth between Mac and Don, feeling a knot in your gut. I need this job, you tell yourself, I need this job, and I can do this. You’ve done worse jobs with worse people.

Boss McDonough lets out a chortling laugh, leaning out the window. “Don’t mind them, they’re a bit shy around ladies, aren’t you lads?” He reaches and claps Mac’s shoulder. A growl rivaling earth’s long-lost bears erupts from Mac’s throat, but he doesn’t move. There’s money on the line if he loses his temper. Poor, stupid McDonough doesn’t seem to notice.

You’re so caught off-guard by your entourage that you nearly miss his arrival. Dust kicking up under his boots, the newcomer calls out, “Sorry I’m late, I got caught up by…well…I got caught up!”

Turning to your right, you’re surprised. The mess of blonde hair on his head is tussled in the wind, and blue eyes hide behind round, orange glasses. He’s tall, taller than the other two. Where does McDonough find such large men? It’s his coat you’re surprised most by, all bright red and eye-catching. What kind of merc wants to be noticed? There’s a patch on the coat, and you squint to see it. Project S-E-E–

“Ah! Vash! Was wondering if you’d backed out!” McDonough opens the store door and crowds the newcomer.

Vash laughs good-naturedly at the attention. “On you? No way! I don’t break promises,” he says. His eyes trail over your party. He seems at ease, even being the late comer. “Nice to meet you all! What are your names?”

Mac and Don pull the same stunt; Mac spits to the side and grinds out his name. Don says his quieter. Both look at Vash with an air of guard now – much more aware and alert than they were with you.

Vash clears his throat, smiling politely, if not a bit awkward. He turns to you. “And you? You must be the researcher McDonough told us about! From one of November’s universities, right?” It’s a hint, an act of grace on his part as you continue to just stare at his coat. His right arm moves, and you look down at it.

“Uh…” you finally see the gloved hand extended toward you. It connects to his arm, his shoulder, and you’re back looking at his face. It’s…kind of cute. His face, you mean. “Uh! Sorry, my name, it’s,” and you say it, watching him mouth it once before smiling at you. “And yes, I’m from Novemberine University. Not a student, though, just a researcher.” He takes his hand back without you shaking it – something you realize too late. He’s the only one who had any kind of politeness about him, and here you are throwing it out the window.

“Nice to meet you,” he says. “Must have taken you a while to get out here. Hope you had a good trip!”

You’re surprised by his chattiness and good nature. You feel your own lips pull up. “It was fine. I’m used to sand steamers and – “

McDonough coughs and says, “Alright, enough chatting! We’ve burned enough daylight. Here’s what I’m hiring you to do – “

McDonough breaks down the plan after that. He wants to survey a nearby gulch and valley. Hopes to find some good land for investment – water or oil or to build some new town with his name. You, the cartographer for the job. Vash, one of your hired bodyguards. The other two men look the part – grizzled, tough. Mercs. Vash stands out with his lithe frame, the bold red coat. Still a merc, but he looks at you kindly, and you take to him as only a nervous scholar can. Some kind of comfort, if only in your head.

After a very long-winded speech about sacrifices and hopeful futures, McDonough says, “Now, everyone shake each other’s hands – we’re all friends here!” The wannabe-mogul crows excitedly. McDonough must be new to the “hiring mercs” business.

As long as I get paid, you think. You shake the bodyguards’ hands reluctantly. Mac and Don are rough and limp. Vash’s is warm and a little clammy.

Years down the road, you’ll think of this first meeting and laugh. What a strange, calm way to meet the Humanoid Typhoon and your life partner.

[maraudersshit]

Remus & the Pack Meet

-this is a story i add to whenever Im trying to go to sleep and cant. its just a bunch of bits and pieces of a bigger universe. (if you see this also posted by an account called oscarthegrouch, thats also me I just accidentally posted to it and now cant delete it)-

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“By Merlin, this is the worst idea I’ve ever heard. James, tell him he’s an idiot.” Sirius paced the sitting room, arms folded, then flailing, and folded once more. James was looking up and over his glasses from his desk chair, a pile of parchment stacked high in front of him,

“He’s right, Moony. This isn’t a very thought out plan.”

“How can it be!?” Remus threw his arms into the air, “we’ve no clue what Greyback is intending to do at the Pack meet. Who better to find out then,” he gestured to himself wildly, “a bloody werewolf!?”

“He’s right, Pads,” Peter chimed in, “We really should find out more, Greyback has always been a slippery one, and if we’re to chip away at You-Know-Who’s forces, it could help to start with one of his ‘Generals’, as we might put it.”

Remus sighed, “Thank you, Pete, I appreciate your support.”

“It’s still a stupid plan, though.” 

“Pete!” Remus groaned, “Like I said, there can’t be a plan. We don’t know enough, first of all, and second of all, I have to act as natural as possible. I have to play as an open-minded recruit. Easy as pie.”

“That’s not the point!” Sirius interjected, stepping to the center of the room. 

James cleared his throat, “We also don’t know what intel he has on you. They could very well know you're part of the order and have a trap set in place to get to the rest of us.” he added, “our lives have been connected for years now, they most definitely have all of that on us.”

“Yes, but they don’t know that you all know I’m a werewolf.”

“Bingo.” Pete sang,

“Except for Snape, that weasel.” Sirius huffed.

“And whose fault is that?” Remus muttered under his breath. Sirius whipped around, but the other man was looking pointedly away and no one else seemed to hear. Pete added on, “And he’s most definitely a death eater by now.” Quiet noises of agreement filled the stale air,

“We could just play it off as you all being prejudiced towards werewolves and I’d had enough, so I joined the pack.” Remus attempted the resolve, finally looking at Sirius with arms extended towards his biggest objector,

“You will not go about telling people we’re racists!” Sirius placed a hand on his chest in shock.

“You would be the most believed, Padfoot. You know, with your family background and all…” Peter mumbled the last bit, but Sirius had heard all the same. His mouth, agape, closed and opened multiple times with intent to make an argument, but it was no use. He had nothing in response, so he sat angrily on the settee, arms crossed and pouting.

“So, its settled th-“

“It is NOT settled!” Sirius cut Remus off,

“Yes, it is.” James followed with a sigh, “We all know there's no stopping him. He’ll go whether we support the decision or not.”

“Well, he should take into consideration what his best mates suggest, which is staying the fuck away from Greyback!”

“He is standing right here,” Remus interjected loudly, silencing the others before they could argue with him anymore, “and knows that you all are just trying to keep him safe. But I am capable of this mission.”

Sirius chewed at his cheek, arms still crossed. Remus looked to him, but Sirius avoided his gaze, instead choosing a snagged length of string on the rug to analyze.

“I leave tomorrow at dawn, but I'll make sure to write up as much information on my whereabouts before I go, just in case things head south. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to collect my things.” Remus headed towards the large oak door of the sitting room,

“Need any help?” Peter asked, looking up from his book,

“No, thanks. I should be able to handle it.” He turned the knob and exited, closing the door gently behind him. The room was quiet for a moment, the only sound being James shuffling parchment and the now distant steps of Remus upstairs,

“Bloody fucking werewolves. The lot of them.” Sirius spat, “he's going to get himself killed.”

“He’ll be fine, he always is.” Peter sighed.

“Until he isnt,” Sirius mumbled, and them much louder argued, “he's not invincible! I mean, he cried in year three when you told him the seafood chowder was made from the Giant Squid. Remember, James?” James blew air through his nose in humour,

“Merlin, the guilt after almost ate me alive. It was horrendous. But we aren't thirteen anymore, Pads. We all want to do our part in this war, and he feels this is his.” James looked over the parchment in his hand once more before levitating it to where Peter was sat, “look over this for me, will you?” Peter huffed in annoyance, “if this is the menu for next week's dinner again, I swear on Merlins beard-“ the parchment stopped mid-air, then slowly started to float back to James, who was looking down sheepishly.

[communistkenobi]

Now that Succession is over I’ve been reflecting more and more on the fandom that sprung up around it. When I made this post I had Succession in mind, but it was too large of a sidebar to get into, so now I’m making a separate post.

And before I get into anything, both in anticipation of being yelled at and so I don’t have to constantly inserts caveats into every paragraph: this is not a universal or comprehensive description of how people interact with Succession in a fandom setting online, but rather my experience with it on tumblr and the experience of watching my friends interact with it. Additionally, this diagnosis of a narrow slice of the Succession fandom is not a moral or intellectual damnation of anyone who ships characters or whatever. I am talking to myself publicly on my own blog and this post is a sequel to the post I linked at the top, and so the primary focus of this is going to be about the “methods problem” within fandom that I outlined in that original post. If anything, this is an invitation to reflect on your own experiences and extend/adapt/critique the arguments I’m about to make to your own contexts, not a condemnation of those experiences and contexts. If you feel the urge to say things like “you’re trying to censor me” or “let people have fun” I would rather you not do that because I’ve heard those things hundreds of times already and those complaints are deeply uninteresting. anyway

I think one of Succession’s strengths as a show is that it is a drama about a modern corporate empire that is shown entirely through the eyes of the individual Roy family members. There is a particular, deliberate clash between the intensely intimate drama of Shiv and Tom’s marriage, Kendall’s addiction issues and estrangement from his family, Roman’s sexual and romantic problems, Connor’s loneliness manifesting in him “buying a girlfriend,” and the fact that they are wealthy beyond comprehension. They are so far above material need that the only arena of conflict is their personal lives. This comes to a head in S4, when their father dies and their family drama becomes the primary battleground over who will take the throne. Yes, they are fighting over acquisition deals and legal issues surrounding their father’s company, this is the “material” component that has a direct influence on their wealth, but that is still secondary to their conflict as a family. Kendall and Roman deliberately attempt to sabotage the sale of Waystar, both because of their personal desire to “be the boss” and the constantly-cited desire to “do what our father wanted.” Their primary concerns are always either an attempt to appease their dead dad or their desire to replace him with themselves.

This is the most intensified form of bourgeois interiority in fiction - all material concerns are made invisible, shoved to the side to focus solely on individual emotions and relationships, because the Roys are part of the ruling class. Their material needs will never be part of their problems. The individual landscapes of their emotions, desires, and traumas are the only real site of conflict. The army of servants and underlings beneath them, the public that is only ever at the periphery, are part of the massive social, political and financial scaffolding that allows them the time and freedom to act out these hyper-intense psychodramas with their lovers, friends and family. The character-centric focus of the show is itself a commentary on their wealth - they don’t have to work, they don’t have to worry about money, they don’t even have to interact with public infrastructure, and so they are free to focus entirely on interpersonal turmoil and pleasure. This intense, indulgent look into their personal lives is predicated on their wealth, and highlights how ridiculous and out of touch they are. This is an integral part of how the deeply uncomfortable, second-hand-embarrassment tone of the show is maintained.

But this nuance doesn’t get translated into fandom - or is only translated haphazardly - which is likewise deeply character-centric. As a fan of the show for many years I have largely avoided the Succession “fandom” because of its intense focus on shipping and rooting for your favourite characters to win. This is how you end up with people deeply invested in Roman’s character, running cover and damage control for him as he becomes increasingly openly racist, misogynistic and fascistic as the show goes on. In particular, the way that misogyny in fandom intersects with this character-centric method of engagement is that a lot of apologetic discourse about Shiv is reactive, excusing or rationalising her behaviour to an online crowd who finds fault with her behaviour not because she’s wealthy but because she’s a woman. It’s how you end up watching people online defend the actions of a fictional billionaire girlboss, because the dominant mode of discourse in fandom is focused so heavily on the actions of individual characters that said actions become free-floating, divorced from their context. Shiv is not being defended on the ground of her wealth and power (or not always, lol), nor even really being defended from the fact that those things make her an objectively horrible person, but that popular fandom perception of her boils down to “man what a huge bitch.” It’s not that (necessarily) people want to log onto tumblr to apologise for liking a fictional billionaire - although again, that does happen - it’s that fandom misogyny is so individualistic that Shiv’s actions are always discussed at the lowest rung possible, commonly expressed as “she’s a bitch” or “she’s being unreasonable”, and so that is the discursive arena that discussion about this character remains in, never moving beyond the individual. It reminds me of the backlash against Skylar from Breaking Bad - it was impossible to talk about anything else about her character aside from explaining why she’s not the devil incarnate. Yes there are also unironic fans who love the fact that Shiv is a vaguely progressive rich white woman, those people absolutely exist, but even when you want to approach the show from outside of that uncritical angle, I think you oftentimes get painted into this narrow discursive corner anyway because of how stupid fandom discussion tend to be.

And yes it’s all fictional, it’s not real, and people “blorbofying” a Roy sibling or shipping Kendall and Stewy together are not remotely good indicators of their beliefs about the ruling class in real life. I am not making claims about anyone’s beliefs or political convictions because they enjoy a show about billionaires. I also enjoy the show. But the rhetoric of fandom is so intensely individualistic that “shipping” characters in a show like Succession is seen as a regular thing to do. The easiest way to tell if you’re in a “fandom” on tumblr is to see if people are writing ship fic or drawing shipping fanart. I enjoy Succession a lot and talk about it with friends, but I am not “in the Succession fandom.”

And at least with the people I follow who do engage in Succession “fandom,” there is an intense self-irony on display - people making fancam edits of Gerri, someone who is general counsel to a fictional version of Fox News, or AMVs of Stewy, a hot ruthless venture capitalist. It’s funny precisely because of the dissonance between the use of fandom aesthetic forms (ie fancams) and the subject being fandomised. Embedded into these behaviours is an ironic self-distance, a performance of fandom with a wink to the audience that you don’t actually believe in this, that this is a self-ironic indulgence, a way of articulating sympathy for these fictional characters while maintaining the air of being in-the-know, being a good person who gets what the show is “really” about. And I enjoy that! Those posts rule lol. If anything I am in the meta-fandom, I stay on the periphery with friends to enjoy posts about how stressful shareholder meetings are, to celebrate the tomshiv scorpionmarriage win, to know what the phrase tomstar gregco endgame means.

But that self-irony is only possible to express because of the fact that “doing fandom stuff” with Succession necessarily involves an intense and constant form of apologetics for your favourite character or relationship - it is this assumed, unstated default that this self-irony is engaging with. If you were just talking about the plot of the show or its themes, if you disavowed any desire to ship characters together, if you never got into arguments with people about which Roy sibling “deserves” to be CEO, you would hardly be doing “fandom,” or at least you would be doing it in a fundamentally different way, and crucially you wouldn’t need to be employing that self-ironic tone of “alright now we all know billionaires are bad. But isn’t Roman such a cute little baby? Don’t you just want to hug him?”

I remember a popular sentiment being expressed around when Succession first got popular online, saying that Succession pioneered new ways for people to talk about their favourite characters on the internet. “He’s my Disney Princess” “I want to put him in a Pringles can and shake him” “she is a bug I need to study under a microscope” and so on. And I think this is partially a result of 1) absurdist internet humour in general, 2) a memetic mirroring of the show’s brand of humour specifically, and 3) people’s general political instincts running up against fandom engagement, the desire to engage with Succession as a fandom-text without experiencing intense cognitive dissonance, producing ways of expressing love and enjoyment for characters that are fundamentally, irredeemably bad people, people who are direct reflections of and parallels to the ruling class of modern America. It doesn’t even give you the benefit of historical distance the way a medieval fantasy would, where it’s easier to “stan” a king because it’s taken for granted that everyone here doesn’t support hereditary monarchy. Succession is a direct, immediate commentary on contemporary American life in a way that is impossible to ignore, and so to engage with it on fandom grounds requires a certain kind of additional effort, a way of simultaneously performing your real-world beliefs while also letting loose. I know Succession is not the first show to be like this, nor is it the only thing that has impacted the way fandom operates online, but it has enjoyed a five-year popularity whose digital omnipresence has reached far beyond its immediate audience. Most people on twitter remotely engaged in fandom have seen a Kendall Roy fan edit, for example.

So, all this to say: even when it feels like a text is deliberately choosing a character-centric focus to comment on its themes and structures, I think what happens is that this character-centric lens becomes easily and instantly adopted by fandom, but the commentary gets left behind. Which is again what I meant in that original post I linked at the top - character-centric lenses are not inherently bad, or inferior, or lesser to other lenses, but that fandom only ever engages in a very narrow and particular type of character-centrism, a lens that is so adaptable that you can easily import shipping discourse and “x-character-did-nothing-wrong” style apologetics into a show like Succession. If you engage with Succession primarily as a vector to ship characters together, or to “pick your favourite character,” I think you are falling into this fandom mode. Which I’m not saying is inherently bad, I have also done this with Succession by calling myself a romangirl or whatever, I’m just trying to articulate the whiplash I sometimes get when watching prestige drama television about billionaires being murderers and sex pests and fascists and then going online and seeing hundreds of people expressing a desire to wrap Roman Roy in a little blanket. A lot of people are engaging with the show’s themes and also doing this “fandom” thing with it, so you don’t have to choose one or the other, nor am I saying that there are necessarily “low” and “high” classes of artistic interpretation that people permanently slot themselves into, but I do think these modes of engagement are at some level mutually exclusive, because they require the adoption of fundamentally different interpretive lenses when approaching a text

[autisticlancemcclain]

keeping up with the coalition, episode 1 -- pilot

[Static flits across the screen, interrupted by brief flashes of darkness. When it finally settles, a gloved hand is visible, taking up the screen as it adjusts the camera. It finally pulls away to reveal a man with a truly expressive moustache, sitting on a small couch. He is beaming so brightly his eyes are squeezed shut. At the bottom of the screen, his name appears in bold font: Coran, Advisor of the Altean Throne, Castle Warden – of Fun!]

Coran: Hello, people of Earth!

[His smile becomes slightly more contained as he speaks, and his eyes are finally visible. They are a deep, vivid green.]

Coran: I was talking to one of our paladins, Lance, and he has informed me that a popular way of recording history on Earth is through a type of media called ‘reality television’! He says it’s a constant recording of people’s lives as they live it, with frequent cuts for interviews at key moments. I have decided to make a reality television program of our space adventure, so you all can see how your fellow Terrans are saving the universe!

[He claps his hands once, grin growing once again. His glorious moustache twitches.]

Coran: I hope you all enjoy!

[Chucking. He twists his moustache mischievously.]

Coran: There will be no shortage of entertainment. That, I guarantee.

⁕⁕⁕

[The scene cuts to the same couch from before, only this time, a young man sits on it upside-down, long legs kicking in the air. He has the hood of his green army jacket flopped over his eyes. At the bottom of the screen, flashing over his face, his name appears in bold font: Lance, Blue Paladin (and Casanova!).]

Lance: …and then I said to Hunk no way, dude, do you actually think we could build a real-life Wall-E – oh, hey, is the camera recording now?

[He pauses a moment, presumably for confirmation, and then smirks, shooting finger guns at the camera. He is still upside down, and his brown eyes are half hidden by his ridiculous hood.]

Lance: Nice! Now, I’m not sure what this is for, but Coran says that he wants to start keeping records of our time in space, with some live testimonials –

[Something visibly dawns on him. Almost faster than the camera can pick up, he scrambles upright, lunging over the arm of the couch so far that the only part of him visible is his green sock-clad foot, extended to keep him balanced.]

Lance (hollering loudly): Coran! Coran! Did you make us a reality show? For us to star in?

[A pause.]

Coran (faintly, as if far away): Why, yes, lad! It was a truly splendid idea!

[Lance flops backwards onto the couch, laughing, arm over his eyes.]

Lance (yelling, again): Coran, I love ya! You’re the best!

Coran (amused, still faint): Anytime, dear. I love you, too.

[Lance giggles quietly again, and then removes the arm from his eyes to glance at the camera.]

Lance: This, and no part of me is exaggerating, is the greatest thing to happen to me, ever. Well, after Blue. And the birth of my niece and nephew. And meeting Hunk. And also meeting everyone else. And fighting Zarkon that first time. Oh, and –

[He shakes himself.]

Lance: Well, point made. This is going to be awesome. Maybe Coran will let me edit the videos! I bet I’ll get to add fun subtitles and stuff. Oh, God, I can’t wait to hear about how Keith handles it! I bet he’s gonna sit on the couch and be grumpy like an old kitty cat, isn’t he? Man. I have the best ideas in the world. This is gonna be great!

⁕⁕⁕

[The next shot opens to the same couch, again, only this time the only thing visible is the very top of someone’s head, along with their very floofy blonde hair,]

The person (deadpan): Are you fucking serious.

[A stomping sound, angry muttering, A freckled hand reaches up to adjust the camera, revealing a grouchy looking girl with large round glasses that take up half her face, making her hazel eyes look huge. She turns away and stomps back to the couch, arms crossed over her chest. She glares at the camera for several minutes, until finally her lips twitch into a smile. At the bottom of the screen flashes bold font, reading: Pidge, Green Paladin and Tech Goddess. Under it, smaller, reads: (sorry, Pidge, camera settings are hard).]

Pidge: I suppose I’ll let that one slide. Although if it happens again, someone is getting hacked to hell.

[She sighs, rolling her eyes playfully as she uncrosses her arms.]

Pidge: So.

Pidge: Lance tells me we’re doing a reality show. Well, not ‘tells’. He gushed about it for hours. He’s convinced this is his key to one day meeting Meryl Streep when we get back to Earth. 

[She smirks.]

Pidge: Well, if we do meet Meryl Streep, I’m gonna tell her that that he unironically uses lines from the Devil Wears Prada in diplomatic missions. That’ll make his face so red he might explode, which is my main goal in life. 

[She shakes her head, face returning to a more serious look.]

Pidge: But on a real note, this is dumb. Who cares about whatever dumb gossip and drama goes on around here? We all know that’s what it’s really about. If it was about historical records, then we would just use mission records. I mean, really. Who cares about all the dumb, frivolous shit?

[The video cuts abruptly to security footage of two people in the briefing room, hunched over a table with dozens on dozens of files open. The people are too far for the camera to make out any dialogue. The video stays steady for a moment, a static view of the entire room at large, before shifting slightly to focus more on the ceiling. Barely visible, in the top right corner, is a hunched blob, hanging from the rafters. Perhaps a nest, of some sort?

Ever so slowly, the camera zooms in on the blob, and it becomes startlingly clear that the blob is Pidge, hanging upside down, one hand extended towards to the two figures below, holding a listening device, the other hand frantically typing things on a tablet.]

[The video flips back to Pidge, who is scowling intensely. Her ears are red.]

Pidge: That is not me.

[There’s a long, long pause. Three minutes, at least. The entire time, Pidge’s face only gets redder. She sniffs derisively, attempting to look prim and pompous.]

Pidge: Alteans can shapeshift, you know. And Allura loves gossip! That’s probably her.

[The screen flashes with the word REWIND, all-caps and bolded. It plays back to the security video, a still picture of the room at large, except this time there are two flashing red circles: one around Pidge, hunched from the rafters, and one around a woman with thick white hair floofing around her head. Then the video returns to Pidge, for whom the redness has spread to cover her cheeks and nose as well as her ears. Finally she throws her hands up in frustration, cracking under the self-imposed pressure.]

Pidge (shouting): Fine! Maybe I like gossip a little. And don’t show that stupid video again, I swear to God. 

[She sighs, rubbing a hand down her face.]

Pidge: Yeah, yeah. Fine. I guess this won’t be the end of the world. Probably. it might – and I mean might  – be fun. A little. 

⁕⁕⁕

[The couch, again, and this time it opens to a young man, broad-shouldered, an orange bandana around his forehead and a screwdriver between his teeth. He has some sort of device in his hands. He squints, twisting a wire carefully, and –

The device explodes, a cloud of black smoke filling the room. When it finally clears, there is soot settled all over the room, coating the couch and the young man sitting on it. He sighs deeply, hanging his head. When he finally looks at the camera again, he’s smiling, although exasperated, and the screwdriver is no longer in his teeth. His name and title flash on the screen the same way as the others: Hunk, Yellow Paladin, Engineer of the Eons.]

Hunk: Well. I would absolutely love to say that’s a rare occurrence, but unfortunately I am an intensely curious person and the universe just loves to punish me for it.

[He glances up at the ceiling.]

Hunk: Uh, I’m kidding. Please don’t smite me.

[There’s a moment of anticipatory silence, presumably in wait of a smiting, but none is forthcoming.]

Hunk: Well, that’s a relief. Lance says one day I’m going to challenge a higher power that actually exists and get my ass kicked for it. I’ve yet to see that happen, and I’ve challenged a lot of higher powers. But Lance has a lot of good predictions, so jury’s still out. He has promised to back me up if I ever do get targeted by some god, though, which is nice of him. Gotta love the guy. 

[He clears his throat.]

Hunk: Anyways. Speaking of Lance. He tells me we’re doing a reality show?

[He snorts, shaking his head in amusement.]

Hunk: That oughtta be fun. I’ve been struggling getting the tea on Keith or Shiro, so this will be an excellent opportunity. And I don’t even have to snoop!

[He tilts his head in consideration.]

Hunk: Well, I might anyway. I’ve noticed that Keith has a helluva sweet tooth. I bet I could lower his resolve with some chocolate cake, he seems like a chocolate cake kinda guy. 

Hunk: Eh. We’ll see. I haven’t found any real chocolate up here yet, but I’ll convince Pidge to test some concoctions of mine. Has she gone yet? Yeah? Oh, who’s next? Is it Allura? I bet it’s Allura. She’s been frothing at the mouth ever since Lance spread the word about this thing – 

⁕⁕⁕

[The next video starts with a screech so high and loud it actually shakes the camera. Seconds later, a woman comes barrelling into the room, so quickly she’s a blur, white hair flowing behind her. She hops on the couch, and then keeps hopping, clapping her hands excitedly. Midair, text appears at the bottom of the screen: Allura, Princess of Altea, Queen of our Hearts.]

Allura: Oh, it is finally my turn! Finally finally finally! I have been waiting, for what must have been years! 

[There is a chorus of squeaking noises, and then four mice scamper up Allura’s arms, settling in her hair. Their presence only makes Allura beam wider, and she reaches up to pet them as she speaks.]

Allura: I am so excited.

[She laughs softly. The sound is somehow reminiscent of a gentle wind blowing through a flower meadow.]

Allura: Although I’m sure that’s obvious. I just love Terran culture! Everything is so strange on your planet. I cannot hear enough. Once a movement we all sit in the common room as one and watch an Earth movie from Pidge’s laptop, and it is most delightful! The music is so fun. Altean films never had music; it’s an excellent idea.

[Her brightness seems to dim slightly, and her smile turns sad.]

Allura: Of course I do miss Altean movies. Perhaps I shall suggest one on our next movie night. Pidge is very curious of our culture. 

[She shakes herself, smile turning grand once more. The mice squeak softly, nuzzling her head.]

Allura: Moving on! I can scarcely wait for this show to continue on. Coran has assured me that the videos will be available for us to watch if we so choose.

[She smirks.]

Allura: I can assure you all that I will be making constant use of that promise. I must know what’s going on with my paladins, you know. It’s my duty as a princess!

⁕⁕⁕

[The next camera cut reveals a young man with a… retro haircut and a fun red jacket, scowling deeply. His boot taps rapidly on the tiled floor, in time with his bouncing leg. Every so often he huffs, glancing at the camera before rolling his eyes and glancing away. The text at the bottom of the screen reads: Keith, Red Paladin, Ninja Sword Guy.]

Keith: Alright, fine. I guess I’m speaking first. Are we really doing, deadass, a reality show? Fuckin’ – like Dance Moms, or something?

[Faint laughter rings through the room, and the camera points to the hallway, where Hunk is poking his head in.]

Hunk: You know what Dance Moms is?

Keith: I grew up with Shiro, Hunk. Believe me when I tell you that I know of every reality show in existence. 

[He shudders.]

Keith: Especially ANTM. I get nightmares about that damn show.

[Hunk snorts disbelievingly.]

Hunk: All Shiro, huh?

[Keith hesitates.]

Keith: Well. I mean. Tracking Blue’s freaky energy only took so much time, okay? And the dumbass shack had cable, sometimes. And in no way is it my fault that Keeping Up With The Kardashians is funny! Oh, fuck off, Hunk, stop laughing! This is my interview! You had yours already!

[The camera slowly pulls away from the hallway where Hunk is retreating, waving a teasing hand behind his back. When the camera settles back on Keith again, he’s scowling, but he somehow looks significantly more amused.]

Keith: Not a second of alone time in this damn place, I swear to God. 

[He huffs, looking down at his dorky gloves, twisting his hands together. When he speaks again, it’s very quiet.]

Keith: I guess I don’t mind it too much, though. It’s kind of nice – ish! – having other people around who aren’t the world’s most annoying assholes. 

[He rolls his eyes again.]

Keith: Well, not counting Lance. And Shiro! Those two, I swear! You know, I bet they’re behind this. Lance especially – he never shuts up about being famous – but don’t let Shiro fool you, either. That man would cut off his other arm for some decent drama, and you can tell him I said that. Heh. 

⁕⁕⁕

[The video opens, to the final time, to the couch, with one last young man sitting upon it. He looks serenely forward, legs crossed and hands resting on his knees. He smiles slightly when he realises the camera is rolling, sending it a dorky little wave. The text at the bottom of the screen reads: Shiro, Black Paladin, Sensei Splinter of Space.]

[He squints slightly, as if examining something small, and then chuckles.]

Shiro: Coran let Lance have access to the editing privileges, huh? I wonder what titles he’s chosen for everyone else. 

[He shakes his head.]

Shiro: I can’t wait to see. I’m actually pretty excited about this. It’s not something people would know about me, but I’ve indulged in the occasional reality shows. Not often, though.

[There’s a muffled voice off-screen, and the longer it goes on the higher Shiro’s eyebrow raises, and the sharper his jaw juts out.]

Shiro (deadpan): Keith said what. Oh, that little brat. 

[His expression clears up suddenly, annoyance turning rapidly into a look so smug it rivals Lance’s from earlier.]

Shiro: Well, if we’re spilling secrets, then buckle the hell up. You know those dumbass little go-go boots? He’ll tell anyone who listens that they were a rare vintage find, they’re antiques, they’re worth hundreds of dollars blah blah blah. He’ll compare ‘em to his fuckin’ Jordans that Adam bought him a couple years ago. 

[He laughs evilly.]

Shiro: Well he’s a liar. There’s this dorky little eighties anime that he was obsessed with when he was a kid, right? He came across some leather that was material ready – do not ask me how, apparently some kid named Taylor gave it to him at the Garrison, between you and me those two had a crush on each other or at least Keith did – and he spent four straight days piecing those shoes together by hand to match his favourite character!

[He laughs, and this time it’s much fonder.]

Shiro: That damn kid. Once he gets something in his head…God, I love that kid. Brat. 

[He sighs, shaking his head.]

Shiro: All the kids, really. The universe…it’s in good hands, guys. I can’t wait for you all to get to know the people who are saving it. 

[novemberthewriter]

Hi! Thanks for the reblog! 🤗 You mentioned being into writing that explores the "meta part" of fanfic - YES!! Are there other people who do this/fics you can recommend?

yes indeeeed. below are works surrounding this topic i've really enjoyed over the past decade:

-> TRAD PUB. BOOKS

Carry On by Rainbow Rowell [link to NPR review] this came out when i was finishing high school + starting to get disillusioned w HP (for story reasons & 'the author is Unforgivably Shitty' reasons lol) so i was very intrigued with how this book worked as a metacommentary abt HP (seriously, it felt like the book was deconstructing a lot of the issues fans had with the o.g. canon) while being a cute fantasy in its own right. i haven't checked out the sequels yet

New Waves by Kevin Nguyen [link to LA Times review] i read this a year or two ago and enjoyed what it had to say about online vs IRL friendships, grief, hustle culture, and creative identity.

-> FANFIC PROJECTS

running after two hares by chaparral_crown on ao3 this is probably my favorite fic of all time. no exaggeration. i have the whole thing printed out on 200+ pages of copy paper bound with comically large binder clips. and it's not even finished! there's this fanon concept called HEU (Hannibal Extended Universe) where people consider all of the different characters that the main actors played outside the show (in other shows, film, etc) to be connected to the showverse. for some reason i've never been able to suspend my disbelief enough to get into a lot of HEU content. i'm picky about fic just as i am with any other creative writing i engage with -- i have been for most of my life. THEN. i come across this author's insanely popular HEU fic, and i've read non-HEU stuff from them before that i adored, so i figure 'why not' ... and this 'crack treated seriously' quickly became one of my fav things ever. the prose alone is so masterful. and it's such a DENSE read, like, you really gotta slow down to appreciate all the introspective asides and jokes and commentary about the text (show) and metacommentary about how unusual pairings thrive, inside and outside of fiction.

Starsky & Hutch Virtual Season [link to Fanlore wiki] i got into S&H fandom in 2012. i remember how intrigued i was at the concept of the Virtual Season, which had its heyday a decade before i got into the online fandom. this kind of fan activity is the precursor, imo, to stuff like people calling installments of their webnovels 'episodes', the concept of a 'dream season' (ex: how hannibal ppl talk about how season 4 would play out if the show hadn't been cancelled), etc. people weren't just writing serialized fic, they were cultivating a really unique Experience

-> COMMENTATORS / ESSAYISTS

Shipper's Guide to the Galaxy (has not updated their channel in years but has such a huge backlog of thoughtful content about the relationship between media and its fans, including entire segments dedicated to fic recs)

Fionapollo (discovered them recently! i used to watch a lot of art commentary channels that preceded this one, and i'm obsessed w this channel because they focus more on the philosophy of creative practice & cultivating community between fans and media, rather than feeding into toxicity for views. they cover negative topics sometimes, yeah, but not in a sensationalist way at all. super refreshing)

[jakowskis]

💖💙💜 owen harper bisexuality masterpost 💖💙💜

i've had this in my drafts for a minute but i figured i'd finish it up and post it today for bisexual visibility day :D

it hasn't cropped up recently, but i've seen a lot of people who've questioned owen's bisexuality over the years and i thought i'd compile all the 'evidence' (although it completely baffles me that we got a show with five canonical bisexual characters and people want to write two of them off as straight / "heterflexible" ?? there shouldn't have to be 'proof' of owen being bi, RTD said torchwood is about five bisexuals fighting aliens in cardiff which means they're all bi, full stop. also, bisexuals should never have to 'prove' they're bi, and in regards to fictional characters, i'm sick of people nit-picking who 'deserves' to be counted as rep and refusing to 'claim' certain characters if they're morally grey or if the fandom simply doesn't Like them as much-)

but i digress.

so without further ado, here's everything i've found that supports owen's status as a bicon :-)

explicit canon instances

➤➤ obviously, we have to start with his gay kiss in the first episode of the show. there's a lot to be said about that kiss, i'm not gonna get into all that here, but i've seen a lot of people say it's not proof of owen being attracted to men, and i wholeheartedly disagree. you can literally catch him smiling very happily after the kiss (and one of owen's few genuine smiles of the series, too). i don't think a straight man (or even a "heteroflexible" man) would beam at another guy who's just informed him that he wants to fuck him. a fair amount of people have also said they interpreted owen calling the taxi as him intending to get away from the couple, but i don't understand how they're getting that impression, because that smile makes it seem very much apparent to me that running away is the last thing he wants to do.

it's also, notably, the first time we see bisexuality IN the bisexual show, which i don't think should be discounted. like, we see owen do something gay before jack does, for fuck's sake. is it a good first impression of how torchwood portrays bisexuality? no. is setting owen up as a more sex-driven, opportunistic bisexual nicely contrasted against ianto & tosh's more romance-oriented brand of demisexual bi/pansexuality? in my opinion, yes. i love that the torchwood bisexuals all practice their bisexuality in different ways. that's very special to me. 'cause it's realistic! real bisexuals all experience bisexuality differently! obviously it'd be a different story if he was the only bi rep, because lord knows we've seen enough of that already, but torchwood makes an effort to show us five different brands of bisexuality, and five different bi stories that largely only exist in the subtext, that aren't the focus of the show, and it's fantastic. it's all i could ever want out of bi rep, honestly, even if it is a bit dated now.

➤➤ the other explicit moment in the show: asking tosh and ianto for an end-of-the-world threesome in sleeper (s2ep2). i've actually never seen owen bi-deniers (fhdskjf it's a conspiracy) even mention this scene. owen literally asks ianto if they can have sex with each other to his face, and he's dead serious when he asks it. that's... i mean you can't mistake that as anything else. like fhdsjkf??

➤➤ next we jump to some of the, i suppose, extended universe content. whether the books are canon or not is debated, but the novel 'another life' features owen playing an online simulation game, and it makes a point to depict owen flirting with someone with a male avatar + wondering to himself if the guy would be down for cyber-sex. [someone posted part of that scene here. for context, owen's also got a VR headset on during that bit.]

➤➤ another instance is on the website, which some also don't regard as canon, but, i mean, i don't know who worked on the things we see on that site, but obviously they got their information from somewhere. they probably consulted with the writers on the show, or at the very least got notes on what things to touch on. anyway, there's a portion of the site where you can find a 'background check' on owen, and it's just a collection of messages from some ex-lovers of his. one of them is a man.

again, some people disregard the canon validity of the website, but the way i see it, the information on this site was released while the show was airing for fans to look at and to gain further insight on the characters. one of the things they felt a need to tell us about owen, important enough to be featured in his background (wayyy before the katie plot was developed), was that he wasn't just interested in women. personally, i regard that as canon. you can find this here. and even if you wanna say fragments jossed this background, it doesn't joss his, like... identity.

next we have things said by russell t. davies himself + by burn gorman (owen's actor)

➤➤ again, RTD (who's torchwood's creator, but i'm assuming everyone reading this knows that) explicitly described torchwood as "a bunch of bisexuals living under cardiff and fighting aliens". that's not ambiguous. [i don't have a direct source for this quote, it was apparently said on the dvd extras.]

burn's comments on owen's sexuality include...

➤➤ (when asked who owen fancies) "Owen's pretty cocky, he'll try it on with whoever comes along." [x] and yes, this is vague, but vagueness is often interpreted as proof of bisexuality. (for example, in the pacific rim dvd features, newt's bio stating he was interested in "whoever will take him" was widely interpreted by the fandom as him being bi.)

➤➤ (in regards to owen's "let's all have sex" line) "I don't think he [...] thinks about the implications, or whether it's with a man or a woman." [x]

(ok i have to admit, although i absolutely adore burn, i'm not super fond of the way his 2006-08 self would talk about how torchwood handled sexuality*. however! he kind of hit the nail on the head in saying that, even if it's in the context of owen wanting end-of-the-world sex, because my take on how owen sees his own sexuality has always essentially boiled down to thinking he'd be like, "well, why wouldn't men also be an option?" (well, with sexual attraction anyway; i think owen's relationship with romantic attraction is far more complex.) i think he resembles jack in that way; anyone's a prospective sexual partner, if they're attractive and interesting and he decides he wants them, and he's also impulsive as hell, so he doesn't think too hard about gender in the moment if he decides he's into someone. there's not really any hang-ups.)

➤➤ and ofc...

(out of context this could look like he's just jokingly calling owen an alien-fucker, although owen makes his thoughts on alien-fucking pretty clear in countrycide lol, but it was said in the context of owen/andy as a ship [x].)

*if you're wondering what i'm referring to, it's a comment here [x] about how the torchwood team's bisexuality is a result of being in a pressure cooker environment and having a 'wartime mentality', and they just kind of 'take what they can get'. the implication that bisexuality is out of desperation/accessibility rather than attraction is pretty damn icky, BUT i love him lots and he generally seems to be pretty woke these days (+ otherwise has always seemed to grasp why torchwood's rep was so unique and groundbreaking and important) so i'll go ahead and hope that was just, y'know, simple 'being a straight guy in 2008' ignorance. fifteen years is a long time and i have faith his opinions have evolved by now, esp considering he used the word 'pansexual' at a 2016 con [x]. (actually, ok, you caught me, that last bit wasn't super relevant and i didn't need to bring it up, but i just wanted to gush about him doing it because how often do you hear that word out of celebs, especially older and presumably straight ones. and in 2016, too. kinda slay of him, ngl)

aaand finally, some random, non-explicit little things that i think support him being a bisexy king (several of these are goofy and half-serious)

➤➤ in episode 2, they make a point to cut to owen smiling after jack's line about "you people and your quaint little labels". one might argue he's smiling at gwen & carys on the screen, but cutting to him immediately after jack says it very much implies he's reacting to jack's words, and i think it's particularly poignant after, again, we saw him kiss a man the episode prior. (which, another thing - owen's literal introduction features him kissing a man, like that's gotta count for something. if the literal third thing i ever see a male character do ever is kiss a guy, that means something.)

➤➤ and of course, in the same episode, we get "period military is not the dress code of a straight man" .... owen's the only one of them with working gaydar. also what a fruity thing to say

➤➤ speaking of fruity things to say, in s2e10 when they're all watching the old film, owen goes "look at the state of them 💅" and he says it SO cunty for no reason it always kills me fhsdkjfd

➤➤ combat.

➤➤ no, really.

➤➤ bonus: in the combat commentary, it's mentioned that when RTD saw the above scene between mark & owen, he said it was "the gayest thing he'd ever seen".

➤➤ in the three monkeys, a big finish audio featuring owen & andy, owen flirts with andy repeatedly. even if he just does it to be annoying, it's still pretty damn gay. also the pet names... (he calls him sweetheart, sunshine, and tiger. it's half-mocking, sure, especially because it's owen, but there's also a domesticity to it.)

➤➤ and then there's the hope's "you're alive again and you want crisps?!" "be glad that's all i'm asking for" (owen was like 'i will not use this as an excuse to try to sleep w andy i will not use this as an excuse to try to sleep w andy i will not use th') these are the only two audios i've heard with this duo, i'm sure there's more examples in the other two. i know gooseberry literally has owen sabotaging andy's relationship with his gf and that is... woohoohoo.... i'll update this once i get through those.

➤➤ …. this is my personal opinion but i lowkey think he kinda wants john hart a bit when they all first meet him in kkbb hdskjfds. gwen & tosh both seem very charmed by him and they're meant to, it's supposed to be like 'oh, look at jack's ex waltzing in and charming the pants off everyone (ha), and only ianto and jack see through him' - owen isn't given a flirty line of dialogue or even a close-up shot of him eyeing john like the girls get, but if you watch him closely he certainly looks… intrigued by him. i think owen's more of a bi disaster than he lets on.

➤➤ in episode 10, diane notes that owen has "beauty products" in his bathroom. obviously this shouldn't be indicative of sexuality, but how many Straight Men in 2006 were moisturizing lmao. hell, how many do nowadays 😭

➤➤ gwen & owen's dynamic settles into a lovely little friendship in s2 and owen lowkey gives gbf vibes <3 them making fun of the movie in s2e10 together + the cheek-kissing at the end of s2e9… bi besties!!

➤➤ the peace sign he throws up in meat when he meets rhys fdsjk i don't even believe in some of the silly internet jokes abt bi culture but c'mon

➤➤ have you seen his taste in women. diane is soo butch and gwen's a total tomboy in s1. that's bi culture babey!!!! i too like girls when they're boys

➤➤ i already talked about it but the aforementioned scene where he asks tosh and ianto for a threesome... he asks them, like, immediately after they team up and bully him for not comprehending that there's "no phones. phones all broken. anyone there? no, 'cause the phones aren't working." that was suuuch a disaster bi owen moment for me. i too would get a little revved up if tosh and ianto both bullied me at once <3

aaand finally... the biggest Evidence of all....

➤➤ he's a leather jacket bisexual. need i say more

and that's all! thanks for reading!

[credit for the dividers used in this. didn't tumblr used to have built-in dividers? i miss that.]

[getitwhenyougotit]

Pay It Forward

Casey Novak x Fem! Reader

It was a late morning for you. You had so many things to do, but none of them were getting done before you had your morning coffee.

You threw on a hoodie over your pajamas, grabbing your phone, keys, and wallet - shoving them in your hoodie pocket before slipping on some shoes, and making your way out of the door.

The day was a beautiful, albeit chilly, autumn day. Leaves of orange, red, and yellow covered the streets and patches of grass alike. You decided to walk to the coffee shop down the street from your apartment.

Once you arrived, you noticed that the line was oddly long for it to be 10 am on Wednesday, but you didn’t mind the wait. 

As your wait in line had hit the 4-minute mark, you briefly raised your head from your phone, adjusting your glasses to sit comfortably on the upper part of the bridge of your nose. The bell above the door signaling that someone else was entering the shop grabbed your attention. This had already happened three times since you had taken your place in line, but the most recent customer of the coffee shop caught your eye.

Entering the long line, there she stood. Statuesque and beautiful. Clad in dark green slacks, a black satin blouse with a few buttons left undone at the top, with black heels that complemented her long legs. She had red hair that cascaded beautifully down her back, the slightly curled ends sitting softly at her shoulders. She was breathtaking.

She took her place in line and stole a glance down at the silver watch that adorned her wrist.

You took a long swallow before reluctantly turning your eyes away from the woman. Finally, it was your turn to order.

“Hey, what can I get  for you today?” The cashier says.

“Hi, can I have an almond croissant, a plain bagel with cream cheese, a large cold brew - with caramel and cold foam, and an extra large dark roast - one and one, please?”

The cashier nods and writes on a little notepad as you rattle off your order to them.

“Of course, anything else?”  Just as you were about to answer no, you had a thought spring into your head.

“Yes, actually, I’d also like to cover the tab for the redhead in the black shirt behind me,” you say, handing the cashier your card.

“Alright, coming right up.” the cashier smiles as they scribble your name onto a clear cup.

You step out of the line, taking a seat in a chair near the counter waiting for your name to be called. You start going through your emails on your phone, knowing your large order was going to take a little while to be finished.

“Uhm, excuse me?” a husky voice says from right beside you. You hum and slowly look up from your phone. 

Fuck, it was the redhead from the line. 

“This seat taken?” She gestures toward the empty chair right in front of you, a slight smirk playing on her lips.

“No, not at all” you smile back, insisting on her sitting down. She was more than likely waiting for her order now, too.

“Thanks for covering my order,” she says as she sits down. You turn your phone screen off, giving her all your attention. “You’ll have to let me repay you one day,” she continues, her voice laced with amusement and genuine gratitude.

“Well, I wasn’t looking for payback, but I might just have to take you up on that offer. What's your name?” You said,, surprised by the random streak of confidence you’d been on today.

“Novak. Casey Novak.” She extends a hand out to you for a handshake, 

“Y/N” you say, accepting the handshake. “So, Casey Novak, why are you all dressed up on this fine Wednesday morning?” You ask.

“I have court today. I’m an assistant district attorney for the manhattan special victims unit,” she says. You knew she looked important, but you didn’t expect her to be an ADA.

“Wow,” you say, “Impressive,”

“Yeah, Go Sex Crimes, I guess” Casey makes herself laugh at this one. “What about you, what’s your special occasion?” She jokingly gestures to your navy blue hoodie and grey sweatpants. She notices the emblem of Yale University embroidered across the center of the hoodie and is admittedly even more intrigued with you.

“Oh, uhm,” You think for a second before you come up with the perfect answer. “Sleep.” It was your turn to laugh at your own joke as Casey joins in.

“Oh sleep, I wish I could. Today’s trial is going to be a long one” Just as you were about to inquire about the case, your name is called to retrieve your order. You reluctantly stand up to grab the bag with your pastries and the cardboard cup holder holding your drinks.

“Well, Casey, I’ll be seeing you around?”

“I hope so,” she smiles brightly. “Here,” she reached inside her briefcase, finding a business card to scribble her personal phone number on the back of it. 

“I’ll be waiting for your call. I need to know what tab I can cover for you,” she winks as you accept the card. You bid her goodbye one last time as you make your way out of the coffee shop, the biggest grin painted on your face.

[smute]

nothing like being asked to take my hat off indoors. listen, buddy. the earth is a rock orbiting the sun. it's one of many rocks and assorted non-rocky planets orbiting the sun in something called the solar system. the sun with its solar system is one of several hundred billion stars in the milky way galaxy. the milky way, the andromeda galaxy, and the triangulum galaxy together form the local group (along with their many satellite galaxies). the exact number of galaxies in the local group beyond the 3 largest is unknown, but estimates range from 50 to 80. the local group is part of the virgo supercluster, a concentration of at least 100 galaxy groups. the virgo supercluster, however, is actually just a subpart of the laniakea supercluster, as defined in 2014. the laniakea supercluster is home to approximately 100,000 - 150,000 galaxies, each containing billions of stars with their own planetary systems. the laniakea supercluster spans 160 megaparsecs, or 520,000,000 light years. (one light year equals 9,460,730,472,580.8 km, or 5.88 trillion miles.) the laniakea supercluster is located in the pisces–cetus supercluster complex, a galaxy filament measuring roughly 1,000,000,000 (yes, one billion) light years in length. the number of superclusters in the observable universe is estimated to be 10 million, each home to its own galaxy groups and galaxies and stars and planets and rocks. but the earth is not just a rock within an inconceivably large universe. it is a rock that happens to be very wet. and the reason why the rock is wet, is that it happens to orbit its star, the sun, at the perfect distance for peak wetness.

one unfortunate day between 4.3 and 3.7 billion years ago, this very wet rock spawned microbial life. until the cambrian explosion 538,800,000 years ago, most living things were very simple organisms, but during this period, life diversified rapidly and complex organisms eventually ventured beyond the oceans. the first known footprints on land date to 530,000,000 years ago, and the earliest dinosaurs appeared 225,000,000 years ago, along with the first mammals. the last common ancestor shared by the genera homo (humans) and pan (chimpanzee and bonobo) is estimated to have lived anywhere between 13,000,000 and 5,000,000 years ago.

the earliest appearance of members of the genus homo dates back to about 2,600,000 years ago. fire was discovered 2,000,000 years ago and has been in habitual use for at least 400,000 years, although it may have begun as early as 1,000,000 years ago. the control of fire had a lasting effect on the human diet and, according to the cooking hypothesis, it was an essential element in our evolution as it led to a large increase in energy acquisition while reducing the physical challenges of eating and the amount of energy that had to be spent on digestion. it also allowed innovations in tool making and the creation of art and pottery. it even helped develop early societies. fires required organized cooperation as they had to be maintained, and they offered gathering places for increased social interaction. the use of fire extended the waking day into the evening hours and changed humans' circadian rhythms. in addition to cooked food and artificial light, fire offered protection from predatory animals and cold temperatures, allowing humans to survive in temperate regions.

neanderthals and anatomically modern humans first appeared between 300,000 and 200,000 years ago - the former in europe, and the latter in africa. about 50,000 years ago, modern humans started colonizing the other continents, eventually replacing the neanderthals and all other hominins. the domestication of dogs began around 35,000 years ago. at the end of the last ice age, around 12,000 years ago, modern humans (and their dogs) had populated nearly the entire planet. the agricultural revolution began soon after in west asia and resulted in more and more humans adopting a sedentary lifestyle in permanent settlements with increasingly complex societies. the gradual accumulation of knowledge and technology eventually culminated in the industrial revolution, which began about 250 years ago and resulted in an unprecedented rise in population growth.

between 200 and 100 years ago, the global population of humans nearly doubled – from 1,000,000,000 to 2,000,000,000. within the next 50 years it doubled again, and then again in the 50 years following that. half of the 117,000,000,000 modern humans that have ever lived, lived in the past 2,000 years. only about 9,000,000,000 people, or less than 8%, lived in the 200,000 years before the agricultural revolution – about the same number as the current living human population. 7% of all humans that have ever existed are alive today, still sharing that same rock that happens to be very wet, in that same inconceivably large universe. billions of years spent developing sentience and sapience, on a very wet rock in a very large universe, and you're worried about the fabric covering my skull? take a step back and reassess the situation maybe

[giggles-and-freckles]

how about meeting at a party whilst drunk au with anakin and obiwan?? not ship tho please

from this prompt list

It’s so hot.

Which, given the amount he’s had to drink this evening, is no surprise. It’s a common joke between Obi-Wan’s friends that his complaining about the warm temperature of a room is the tell-tale signal that he’s crossed the threshold into drunkenness. 

He doesn’t feel drunk, though. Not entirely anyway.

Some fresh air is all he needs. 

It’s been several years now since those extended weekends here throughout his time at university. He’s passed out on just about every flat surface in the house. Everyone always coveted an invite to Padmé’s family's vacation home on Lake Naboo. Most uni students barely had a proper flat to call their own, while Padmé had a summer house. It was impossible to hold Padmé’s wealth against her, though. Not when she made everyone she met feel as if they were part of her own family.

Obi-Wan slips through the doors onto the large balcony that overlooks the lake.

“Oh,” he says, seeing he’s not alone. “I’m sorry. I —”

“S’fine,” the man says, waving him off. He’s holding a half-full flute of champagne and it sloshes to the rim as he gestures. “I’m…I’m just taking a break.”

Obi-Wan nods, and leans against the railing, placing a comfortable distance between himself and the stranger.

“I needed some fresh air,” he says.

The lake is frozen over, as it always is this time of year. Faint lines from morning skaters can be seen criss-crossing over the thick ice. Obi-Wan isn’t sure he even remembers how to skate anymore.

“I’m Anakin, by the way.”

Obi-Wan almost chokes. “You’re…”

The man gives a sideways grin. “Welcome to my lovely home.” The smallest of hiccups punctuates his quip.

“I…I shouldn’t be wandering around —”

Anakin waves him off again. “Please. I know you. You’re Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

“I am,” he stammers. “I don’t think we’ve met…”

“Nope. But Padmé talks about you all the time.”

Guilt overwhelms Obi-Wan. “I was sorry to...to miss the wedding.”

Anakin shrugs, then takes a sip of his drink. “Padmé was pretty pissed.”

“Yes. I know.”

“Got married right here,” Anakin says, swinging his arms around to showcase the veranda. This time, his champagne does slosh over the rim of his glass.

“I saw pictures. It looked like a lovely ceremony.”

“Do you smoke?”

“Pardon?”

Anakin hiccups. “Neither do I.”

Obi-Wan must be drunker than he thought, because suddenly Anakin is the funniest person he’s ever met. He snorts in laughter, then uses the sleeve of his jumper to wipe at his nose.

“Y’know,” Anakin says, “Padmé always said we’d be good friends.” He looks over at Obi-Wan and cocks his head. “What d’you think?”

“I’ve been told I’m agreeable enough.”

It’s Anakin’s turn to laugh. He doesn’t hold back in the same way Obi-Wan does, instead throwing his head back and practically cackling to the sky. “I’m pretty sure I’m the most disagreeable person ever.”

“That can’t be true.”

“Sure it can.”

“Well—”

“See?” Anakin grins. 

“How did you and Padmé meet? I’m afraid I…” Obi-Wan clears his throat. “I’m afraid I lost touch for a bit.”

Anakin rolls his eyes and downs the rest of his champagne. “Yeah. I heard.” He shrugs his shoulders. “What can I say? Padmé likes younger men.”

Obi-Wan chuckles. “How lucky for you.”

“Damn right.” He looks around and frowns. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

“There’s a bench just — oh.” Anakin has plopped down into the settled snow. “Alright.” He finds himself sitting down on the ground, too. His trousers are sure to be drenched after this, but he’s too intoxicated to care.

“So why’d you come?”

“What?” Obi-Wan questions.

“Tonight. Padmé’s been trying to see you for years.”

“Oh. Well…” Where to even begin. It was never Padmé’s fault. What happened to Qui-Gon, it…it was complicated. And, now, looking back, he wishes he had done so many things differently. He’d been hurt and angry and confused and — it had been easy to shut everyone out and disappear.

“It was time,” Obi-Wan says simply.

“One AM, I think.”

“What?”

“Did you ask —” Anakin stops, then throws his head back in laughter again, this time slamming the back of his head against the railing. “Never mind,” he manages through his laughter.

Obi-Wan begins to laugh, too. “So why are you out here? Instead…of —”

“I hate people.”

Obi-Wan lifts his eyebrows in surprise. “All people?”

“Most of them. Except for Padmé. You seem okay, but I think you’d be more boring if you were less drunk.”

“If I was less drunk?” Obi-Wan cries in outrage. “I beg your pardon, but —”

“Hey look.” A smile splits across Anakin’s face. “It’s snowing.”

[springnote]

Pretend

William Afton x fem!reader (nsfw)

part two

warnings: nsfw minors dni, piv sex, biting, jerking off

When you’d first stepped foot into Freddy Fazbear’s pizzeria, you hadn’t expected it to be too interesting, and were actually hoping you’d end up having a normal, boring day. Your sister had come to visit with her three rowdy boys, and insisted eating at Fazbear’s would distract the kids so you could have “girl time”, but you found yourself more interested in observing the animatronics and less interested in eating greasy globs of pizza with her. The place wasn’t so bad, but you weren’t planning on getting sick from overly rich food.

Once your sister got up to yell at her children for fighting over arcade tickets, you slipped out of your chair and walked towards the stage, smiling as the robot bear turned to you briefly to wave before going back to singing. You couldn’t help but be a bit mesmerized by the animatronics, fascinated by how fluidly they seemed to move despite obvious wear and tear, and the small details that caught your eye up close. Perhaps you were a bit too focused, as a man cleared his throat beside you, you nearly jumped out of your skin as you turned around, nearly smacking headfirst into his chest.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” a rich, deep voice calmly spoke. You took a step back and your eyes finally flicked upwards, feeling a jolt of electricity in your heart as you looked into the man’s intense, silver eyes. He quirked a brow at you when you didn’t respond, his hand extending to offer a handshake. “My name is William Afton, what might your name be?”

Still caught off guard by his rather attractive British accent, you take a moment before you remember to respond. “Oh, I’m (y/n), and I should be the one who’s sorry Mr. Afton,” your face heated as you shook his large hand. “I was distracted by the animatronics.

“Please just call me William,” he smiled, a twinkle in his eye. “So, you find the animatronics that interesting, hm?”

“Well they’re really detailed and seem to have a variety of different actions they’ve been programmed with,” you rambled, feeling a bit silly. “I don’t mean to sound childish, I recently became an Art teacher here at the local University, so I get a bit excited seeing different forms of craftsmanship in person.”

William let out an amused chuckle, making you worry you sounded like you were bragging. “Don’t worry, I find your enthusiasm for the craft refreshing,” he smoothed his dark hair back as he spoke. “I’m glad you approve of my work.” He gave you a smirk before walking away, leaving you a bit flustered as you realized you’d just chatted with the owner and creator of the restaurant.

(time skip)

A week later, you sat in your office looking over some grades, when a soft knock sounded outside. “Come in!” You responded as you continued your work.

“Why, not even a hello?” A familiar voice asked, making you look up suddenly to see William standing in your doorway, a cheeky smirk on his face as he scanned the room. “And to think, I thought we were closer than that.”

“Oh Mr. Afton!” You gasped as you stood up, circling the desk to shake his hand. “I’m sorry it’s been a very busy week. What brings you here?”

“Just William,” he reminded as he leaned his back against your desk, palms resting on it as he sighed. “I could actually use your help, but it’s a bit of a tricky request.”

“Yes?” You hesitated, feeling a bit suspicious of where this was going.

“One of the higher ups that oversees my business told me recently that some investors aren’t keen to support the place due to me being a single father,” he rubbed his temple and huffed before continuing. “They prefer ‘traditional’ families, or at least ones in the making. That’s where you come in.”

“How?” You frowned, a bit confused.

“I know we don’t know each other well, but would you mind pretending to date me for awhile? I don’t know who else to ask…and without the support of those investors, we may have to close down for good.” He looked up at you finally, a slight pleading look crossing his usually cool and collected features.

You could only stare at him as the words slowly processed in your head, your eyes wide in surprise. How were you supposed to respond to that? Taking a minute to look him over, you noticed dark circles under his eyes and wrinkles in his dress shirt, likely from spending the night at work, probably due to his current predicament. Were things truly that bad?

“I’ll do demonstrations for your art students if you like,” he interrupted your thoughts. “They may enjoy the animatronics and my craft like you do, I can even do it for free, just please consider. I really don’t know what to do.”

Sitting down at your desk, you took a moment to think it over. His offer of helping you and your students with class was hard to ignore, you were having issues finding art exhibits and artists to take your students to see after all. The University was also not very fond of unmarried employees, unmarried female employees that is, so the deal would definitely help you with your job. Of course, he wasn’t unattractive either, and you couldn’t deny it was a bit of a tempting offer just because of that.

“I’ll help you,” you said before even realizing it, his surprised look mirroring your own. “But only if you agree not to treat me like some tool to secure a business deal, even if that’s what this is.”

“Of course, you have my word,” he responded as you rounded the desk. “I’m not nearly that cold. Thank you for helping me, (y/n).”

“Thank you Mr. Afton,” you nodded as you walked him to the door, quickly correcting yourself when he gave you a disapproving look. “I mean William, sorry. I’ll try getting used to that.”

“Good, thank you again.” He smiled warmly, stopping and turning back to put a hand on your shoulder as he added. “And don’t worry, I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman.” And then he was gone, leaving your shoulder tingling slightly as you watched him leave.

(time skip)

By the time you’d been “dating” William for a few weeks, you weren’t sure you could handle it anymore. He hadn’t done anything wrong in fairness, and the act hadn’t been figured out by anyone, not even his business partner you’d met several times by now. The real issue was you, and the troublesome feelings you couldn’t help but feel as time went on.

Your “dates” had been rather simple, all nice dinners in restaurants or walking through the park, and it proved to be surprisingly easy for you both to settle into your roles. William was a perfect gentleman, his charming smile and casual banter made you feel comfortable, and it seemed your class was going smoothly with his help and he was on a better footing with his investors, but you couldn’t help feeling a bit sad. He didn’t show any physical affection except for occasionally placing a hand on your arm or shoulder when he’d stop to speak with someone, and he didn’t do a lot of flirting except when in public, and while that proved he wasn’t going to take advantage of the situation, you felt disappointed.

It felt selfish and silly to want more when you’d made an agreement with him and you were both obeying the rules and succeeding in your jobs, but you couldn’t deny that he was the most charming man you’d ever met, and your attraction to him was refusing to go away. The time you spent together gave you plenty of time to observe him up close, noticing muscles flex across his broad frame as he demonstrated his work for your students, the way he spoke with his hands and how he smelled like a pot of black coffee and leather, it was maddening.

You were eating some breakfast as you began mentally preparing yourself for another evening of pretend flirting and torture, when the bell on the door of the cafe you were sat at rang, making you look up to see who it was. You nearly groaned in frustration when you saw William Afton himself walk through the door, your heart skipping a beat when he looked over at you. “Fancy seeing you here, dear,” he smiled as he walked towards you, sitting across from you. “I actually was just looking for you.”

“Why’s that?” You asked, feeling a bit flustered by the term of endearment, despite knowing it was all an act.

“My good friend Henry has offered to meet with one of our investors in our stead, so we don’t have to exhaust ourselves tonight,” he chuckled a little before continuing. “It’s quite a relief considering I was dreading tonight.”

Your heart sunk a bit at those words. It was a relief to not be scrutinized by the investors, but you wanted to spend time with him. Another part of you had hoped that it wasn’t just an act, but his words felt like they shattered those hopes.

“That is a relief,” you laughed weakly. “We can be ourselves for awhile.”

You thought William made a face for the slightest moment, but he was checking his watch before you could even process the thought. “Well I suppose I should leave you to it,” he hummed as he stood up. “I will see you at a later date then.”

As he walked away, a sudden urge to stop him overtook you, your hand grabbing his arm subconsciously. He blinked in surprise at you, but you spoke up before he could question you. “Wait, let’s have dinner at my place tonight,” your ears burned as you powered through your embarrassment. “Since it will be just us, and we won’t have to worry about if anyone sees. We can just be ourselves.”

It only took him a moment to regain his collected demeanor, a chuckle rumbling from his chest before he leaned forward. “That sounds wonderful, but I’ll bring dinner so you don’t have to stress yourself, alright?”

“A-alright.” you gulped, your heart racing at how close he was.

“I’ll see you tonight then, dear.” He gave you a wink before pulling away, a pleased smile on his face when you got up with him, the remains of your breakfast forgotten. “I better get ready then, honey.” You responded, trying to match his energy so he didn’t have the upper hand for once, but his bow as he opened the door for you might have already outdone your attempt.

(later that day)

You hastily shut off the water as you stepped out of your shower, feeling a bit frantic as you checked your clock for the tenth time since you went in the bathroom. After making sure your house was all in order and picking a nice outfit, you had made sure you’d have time for a shower, but you couldn’t help but feel anxious that you wouldn’t be ready for him. “You’ve got this, it’s going to be a wonderful evening.” You told your reflection in the mirror as you tried to relax, feeling like you were forgetting something important.

A loud meow caught your attention as you looked over at the bathroom door, seeing your cat, Muffins, sitting there with a grumpy expression on her face. “I’ll feed you in a few minutes.” You told her, shivering as cold water dripped from your hair, Muffins jumping on the bathroom counter with an unamused look. You turned to grab your hair towel from the counter top, but suddenly Muffins snatched it out of your reach in her mouth, jumping down and heading for the doorway.

“Muffins! Stop!” You gasp as you tried to grab her, having enough foresight to grab your towel and loosely wrap it around your body before going after her. Knocking over a vase as she ran through your room, Muffins meowed around the towel as she stared you down, darting down the stairs when you jumped forward to grab her. “I said stop!” You called after her, but of course she didn’t listen.

You ran to the top of the staircase and took off down the stairs, when suddenly you saw your front door swing open, then everything seemed to move in slow motion. As Muffins ran past the door, William crossed the threshold, his eyes briefly following her before turning to see what she was running from, and at that moment, you froze mid-run down the stairs, one hand jolting to the hold the railing as you teetered on the edge of a step as the other pressed your towel to your torso. And as you stared back at him in shock, your towel loosened further, unwrapping as it pooled in front of you, leaving what part of you he could see nearly covered, but unfortunately, your hand was too low on your torso, and your towel fell down enough to expose your chest.

You let out a startled noise as you quickly yanked your towel back up, your eyes wide in horror as William’s mouth fell open for a brief moment before he spun around. “I’m sorry! I’m not looking!” He blurted out quickly.

“Why are you in here?” You yelled back, burning with embarrassment.

“I was going to cook, but I had to deal with some issues at home so I got takeout,” he started explaining, seeming a bit more calm, but his back still faced you. “I was going to come by to say it would be late because my watch told me it was nearly time, but I think I accidentally put on my eldest son’s watch; it runs fast.”

“And the door?” You asked.

“It was unlocked, but I should have knocked. I apologize.” He replied, seeing your cat walk by and bending down to snatch the towel back. “Do you need this?”

“I-I do.” You wrapped your towel up tighter, hoping your boobs would stay covered. William turned around and walked towards the steps, looking away from you as he held the towel out. You leaned forward and grabbed it, your fingers briefly touching, making his shoulders stiffen. “Thank you.” You squeaked out before taking off up the stairs, too ashamed to even look back.

You wanted to stay upstairs forever, but getting your hair done and dressed didn’t take nearly as long as you’d hoped, recounting the embarrassing event over and over in your head. Regardless, you knew you had to go down, you could hear the takeout delivery man come by, and you didn’t want William to get impatient.

You took a deep breath before descending the stairs, building up the courage to speak as you walked towards the dining room. “The food isn’t cold yet is it?” You finally managed to ask, William turning from the small takeout boxes to give you a look over.

“No it’s still fairly warm,” he said. “I hope you don’t mind, I made you a plate.”

“Thank you,” you smiled as you sat down, nervously fiddling with your napkin as he sat across from you. “Did anything interesting happen at work?”

“It was uncharacteristically uneventful,” He answered, staring at his glass of wine a bit too intently. “How about your work?”

“It was business as usual,” you replied. “So…are your kids doing well?”

“God I can’t stand this.”

You looked up in surprise as William stood and slammed his palms on the table, glaring at the floor.

“Did something happen?” You asked, feeling a bit nervous at his change of mood.

“Yes something did happen, and I can’t stand pretending like it didn’t,” he looked up at you, his eyes dark. “Especially when you look like that.”

“Did I upset you Mr. Afton?” You sputtered, getting out of your own seat as you took a step back, William taking one forward as soon as you moved.

“Oh I’m very frustrated,” he replied, stepping closer until the back of your knees hit the couch, tripping you onto the seat. “But you didn’t upset me, the opposite of that in fact.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he gripped your chin and tilted your face up “and don’t call me Mr. Afton.” Then he was smashing his lips onto yours. You stiffened for a moment, but melted into his touch with a moan as he tongue pushed at your lips, his other hand moving to grasp the back of your head as he deepened the kiss. As he leaned closer, you felt something hard against your knee, twitching as he pulled back with a gasp.

“See what you do to me?” He groaned as he rubbed against you unconsciously. “Treating me so nicely, and fluttering your lashes…even if it’s acting it drives me insane.”

“William,” you gasped out as you started unbuttoning your shirt. “Please, more…”

“And earlier,” he growled as he stared at your chest, cupping your breasts in his hands. “These fucking tits…If you don’t tell me to stop they’re going to be sore in the morning.”

“Don’t stop.” You moaned out, unclipping your bra as you leaned into his touch.

He didn’t waste a moment, his hands groping your breasts as he ran his tongue along your neck, twisting your nipples between wet kisses. You could feel wetness pooling between your legs when his mouth moved lower to suck marks into your chest, a chuckle rumbling through his chest at your reactions. Your hand fumbled around to grab him in his pants, squeezing enough to make him gasp again, his cock twitching.

“Remove your pants.” He growled as he started fumbling with his belt. You were quick to comply as you unzipped your pants, but he stopped you before they were even past your knees. “That’s enough, love.”

He pulled your panties to the side, stroking his fingers across your folds and thumbing your clit, his occasional curses as he stroked his cock in his free hand the only sound besides your gasps and whimpers. You were nearing the edge when he pulled his hand away, a desperate gasp passing your lips. “Please, I need you.”

“As you wish.” He smirked as he shoved his pants and underwear halfway down his his thighs, stroking himself a few more times before he pushed in your entrance.

You could only moan as he filled you up, his cock finally bottoming out after several agonizingly slow thrusts. His hands gripped your waist as he finally set a rhythm, his mouth latching onto your chest again. Shivers of pleasure ran through your body with every thrust as you grasped at his back, his moans mirroring your own.

“You fit so nicely around my cock, love,” he groaned around one of your nipples. “God I want to make you cum til you can’t remember your fucking name.”

“I’m close! Please just keep going,” you gasped as you buried your face in his neck, biting his shoulder when he hit that perfect spot inside you. “Fuck! More William please!”

“You sound so pretty screaming my name-fuck!” He hissed as you tightened around him, his thumb finding your clit again.

You came with another shout of his name, shuddering as he pulled out to jerk off over your chest.

“Fuck (y/n)…” he groaned, his hips stuttering when your hand gently grasped him at the base, a small squeeze pushing him over the edge as he came across your chest.

You closed your eyes as he sat back, sweat pouring down your chest as you tried to catch your breath. The only sound was you both breathing as exhaustion overtook you, William’s hand reaching to stroke your arm as your eyes fluttered shut. He said something quietly, but you didn’t catch it as you drifted off to sleep.

(tumblr was being rude with the formatting and I wrote this ages ago so if there’s any issues with it pls let me know)