#and even then a lot of them I had to just scroll on by

[itneverendshere]

hi! For the bartender!Universe would u mind writing a pregnancy scare? It brings a lot of mixed emotions when they find out she wasn’t pregnant and it ends up a really deep talk about what they want with their future? Thank you so much 💕💕

i got a similiar ask at the exact same time so i decided to combine aspects of both!!! the other request: "this one’s a lil angsty. maybe you have a pregnancy scare and while rafes like super excited for the potential baby, you’re not, the stress of keeping rafe clean and not heading back to rehab lingers your mind".

hope you both enjoy!!!!❤️🫂🤭

 just want you in my life keep you warm at nights - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: pregnancy scare; insecurities

Rafe was sprawled out beside you, his arm draped lazily across your stomach as he scrolled through his phone. You could feel the pressure of his hand pressing gently on your skin, but your mind was a million miles away, your gaze stuck on the ceiling fan.

It felt like everything had been on autopilot for the past few days, your mind preoccupied with one thing—late. Not like a few days late.

More like over a week late.

It wasn’t the first time your period had been irregular, but you couldn’t help but spiral immediately. Rafe and you had been together for three and a half years, living together for a while now and he’d proposed last autumn. But this? This wasn’t part of the plan.

Not yet.

“Hey,” His voice snapped you back to the present, his brows furrowed as he looked at you, concern evident in his blue eyes. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked, trying to force a smile. “Nothing... just thinking.”

He shifted, propping himself up on his elbow to look at you more closely. “Thinkin’ about what?”

You stomach dropped. You hadn’t told him yet. You weren’t sure if there was anything to tell because you hadn’t even taken the test. You weren’t sure if you wanted to. Saying it out loud would make it real. And that terrified you.

Rafe, on the other hand, would probably be thrilled. He’d always talked about kids like they were a given, like it was part of some unspoken future you were destined for. You wanted them too, but the truth? The truth was, the idea of being responsible for another human being when you were still trying to recover from Rafe's scare last year and keeping your shit together now that you’d gotten a promotion at the club—well, it felt like too much.

You couldn’t say that, though. Not to him. So you kept quiet. 

The next day, you stared at the small plastic stick in your hand, heart hammering in your chest as you waited for the result to appear. The bathroom was dead silent, save for the faint drip of the sink, but your mind was anything but quiet.

This one stupid piece of plastic was going to dictate the rest of your life. It could change everything in the blink of an eye. Three minutes. That’s how long it would take to find out if your entire world was about to be turned upside down.

You still hadn’t told Rafe. You didn’t even know how to. His mind was in a good place lately, and you weren’t about to ruin that. After everything we’d been through—the relapse, the rehab, the nights where you weren’t sure if he’d make it out—this was not something you were ready to throw on both of you.

You hadn’t even wrapped your head around it yet. Shit, you could barely breathe just thinking about the possibility. You glanced at your phone, biting your lip as the seconds ticked by.

Almost time. Your stomach twisted into endless knots. He was in the living room, blissfully unaware of the panic attack you were on the verge of having just a few feet away. You could hear him flipping through channels on the TV, probably looking for some show to watch. Part of you felt guilty for not telling him, but how were you supposed to tell him when you didn’t even know what you wanted?

The idea of being pregnant had scared you more than you expected.

Not because you hated kids or anything, you grew up rising Milo for fuck’s sake—it was just the timing. Or maybe it was more than that.

Your mom died shortly after you were born and your dad…well, a drunk piece of shit was hardly a good parental figure. You’d never let yourself think about it before, Rafe had told you how good you were with kids a million times over the years, but you didn’t know how you’d turn out with your own kids. You didn’t want to be anything like them, ever. 

Taking a deep breath, you finally glanced down at the test.

Negative.

Relief took over you so fast it made you feel lightheaded. You hadn’t realized just how much pressure you’d been carrying on your shoulders until it was gone in an instant. Thank God.

Your shoulders slumped as you exhaled, leaning against the sink for support. You felt like you finally could breathe again, like you could relax for the first time in what felt like weeks. There was no baby. No life-altering change. No new responsibility that you didn’t know how to handle.

You closed your eyes. This was good. This was the outcome you needed. No baby, no stress, just… back to normal.

But then, life had a twisted sense of humor and the door creaked open. “Hey, baby, you—”

Your eyes flew open, heart dropping in your chest as you quickly shoved the pregnancy test behind your back. Rafe stood in the doorway, looking at you with his signature confused look—one eyebrow cocked, lips slightly parted, like he’d walked in on something he wasn’t supposed to.

You forced a smile, too wide and too fake, and took a step back, trying to act casual. “Oh, uh, hey! What’s up?” Your voice cracked on the last word, and you internally winced. Smooth.

He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “What are you hiding behind your back?”

Shit.

You tried to laugh it off, shaking your head like it was no big deal. “Hiding? Me? I’m not hiding anything.”

His eyes moved to the hand behind your back. “Really? Because it sure looks like you are.”

You swallowed hard, your brain rushing to come up with some excuse, any excuse. 

But the longer you stood there, the more suspicious you looked. And Rafe was nothing if not persistent when he thought something was up. Before you could stop him, he pushed off the doorframe and closed the distance between you two, his hand reaching behind your back in one smooth motion. Your stomach dropped as he grabbed the test from your hand, pulling it out in front of both of us.

He stared at the pregnancy test in his hand, his eyes widening with realization as he slowly processed what he was seeing. What he was holding. His mouth opened slightly, but no words came out at first. He just stood there. 

“Y-You thought you were pregnant?”

The heat rose to your cheeks, and the anxiety that had been building in your stomach for days came back at full force. You were still reeling from the relief of the negative result, but now that relief was giving up space for guilt. You hadn’t meant for him to find out like this, or maybe not even at all. You didn’t want to drag him into the spiral you’d been caught in, not when things had been going so well lately.

“I... I wasn’t sure,” you stammered, looking down at the floor because it was easier than meeting his eyes. “I mean, I was late, and I just…I didn’t know.”

Rafe’s face softened, the confusion in his eyes giving way to concern as he took a step toward you. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You swallowed hard, your heart racing again, this time for a different reason. The last thing you wanted to do was lie but telling him the truth felt impossible.

“I didn’t want to stress you out,” you admitted, “I wasn’t even sure if I was, and I didn’t want to freak you out for no reason.”

Rafe’s hand was still holding the test, but now he was looking at you with that intensity he always had when he knew you were telling the entire truth. He wasn’t mad—he never got mad, not anymore—but you could tell he was hurt that you hadn’t let him in. You felt awful about it.

“I wouldn’t have freaked out,” he said gently, stepping even closer until he was right in front of you. “You know that, right? You don’t have to do this alone.”

That was the thing, though. Over the past year you’d spent so long worrying about him, making sure he was healthy, that the idea of burdening him again with your own fears had become...strange.

You didn’t want to be another weight on his shoulders.

“I know, I just…” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know how to feel about it. And I didn’t want you to—”

“To what?” he pressed softly, his voice so calm and reassuring that it made the stress loosen just a little.

You took a deep breath, “I didn’t want you to get your hopes up, I guess. Or feel disappointed if it was negative.”

He set the test down on the counter beside him, reaching out to cup your face in his hands. “Baby, I wouldn’t be disappointed,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “If it had been positive, great. If it’s not, that’s fine too. We’ve got time. It’s not like we have to figure this out right now.”

The lump in your throat made it hard to speak. “You’re really not mad?”

Rafe shook his head, “I wish you would’ve told me what you were going through. I don’t want you to carry that by yourself.”

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. There was so much you wanted to say, so many fears you’d been holding onto—not just about the possibility of being pregnant, but about everything. About whether you were even ready for kids at all, about what kind of parent you’d be, about whether you could handle the responsibility when your past still haunted you in ways you hadn’t recovered from.

“It’s not just that,” you whispered, “I don’t know if I’m ready, Rafe. And it scares the shit out of me.”

He was silent for a moment, and when you finally opened your eyes to look at him, his expression was so gentle, so understanding, that it almost broke you.

“Hey,” he pulled you into his arms. “We don’t have to be ready right now. There’s no rush. When you’re ready, we’ll talk about it."

You buried your face in his chest, letting him heartbeat calm you. His arms wrapped around you tightly, and for the first time in what felt like days, you allowed yourself to relax.

“I-I know you want a baby. But—”

He sighed against your hair, lips brushing your temple, “What I want is for you to be happy. And if this doesn’t make you happy right now, I don’t mind waiting. We got forever, remember?”

It wasn’t that you didn’t want kids—it was that right now, everything already felt like too much. Planning a wedding, keeping up with work, holding your relationship together after what you both had been through, it was all overwhelming. And then the idea of a baby on top of that? You’d grow crazy.

Rafe’s fingers brushed through your hair, and you just let yourself be in his comfort. But the guilt was still there, eating you whole from the inside. You should’ve told him from the start, not carried it all on your own like you always do.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered into his chest, voice muffled. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you. I just didn’t know what to do. It’s been a lot lately.”

He kissed the top of your head, his hands gentle as they held you. “You don’t have to apologize, baby. You’re dealing with enough already.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, I think I’m losing my mind.”

The wedding. God, the wedding. You hadn’t even let yourself fully acknowledge how much that had been stressing you out too. You’d dreamed about this day since you were a kid, but now, between caterers, guest lists, dress fittings, and everything else, it felt like a full-time job. And the worst part was, the more overwhelmed you got, the more guilty you felt for not being excited enough about it.

“I just want everything to be perfect,” you admitted, biting your lip. “I want it to be special, but it’s starting to feel like a chore. Like I’m supposed to care more about seating charts and floral arrangements than... than actually enjoying the fact that we’re getting married.”

 “Then let’s cut back. We don’t need some huge, over-the-top thing if it’s stressing you out. I just want to marry you, that’s all that matters to me.”

He always knew exactly how to calm you down, how to remind you what was important when everything else felt a little too crazy.

“But what about your family?” you asked, wiping at the corner of your eyes. “They’re expecting this big thing.”

He shrugged, “They’ll get over it. This is about us, not them. If you want something smaller, we can do that. Hell, we can get married in the backyard for all I care, as long as it’s what you want.”

The sincerity in his voice almost made you want to bawl your eyes out. You took a deep breath, nodding slowly. “I think I’d like that. Something smaller. More us.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” he nodded. You let out a sigh of relief, the knot in your chest loosening more. Maybe this was what you needed—to let go of the pressure to have it all figured out. To accept that it was okay to not be ready for everything.

“I love you,” you whispered, leaning into his touch.

“I love you too,” he replied, his forehead resting against yours. “But baby, you have to stop worrying so much about me. I’m okay. I’m doing good, and I’m not going back there. But you’re gonna drive yourself crazy if you keep putting me first and ignoring what you need.”

You blinked, your breath catching slightly. “I’m not ignoring what I need—”

“You are,” he cut in gently, but firmly. “You’ve been doing it for months now. Since the relapse, since rehab. You’ve been carrying all this, stressing about keeping everything together. And I love you for wanting to take care of me, but you can’t keep putting yourself second. It’s not fair to you.”

You wanted to argue, to say you were fine, that it was just what you had to do to keep everything from falling apart. But deep down, you knew he was right. You’d been holding on so tight, so terrified that if you let go, if you stopped worrying about him for even a second, you’d lose him again. 

“I’m just scared,” you whispered, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” Rafe said softly, pulling you closer. “But if you keep this up, you’re gonna lose yourself.”

You closed your eyes, pressing your face into his chest as the tears you’d been holding back finally started to fall. Rafe held you tighter, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back. He didn’t try to hush you or tell you to stop. He just let you cry, let you get it all out, like he knew you’d needed this release for a long time. You couldn’t stop. Everything you’d been bottling up for months was spilling out at once.

Rafe held you tighter, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back. He didn’t try to hush you or tell you to stop. He just let you cry, let you get it all out, like he knew you’d needed this for a long time.

You pulled back slightly, sniffling as you wiped at your eyes. “I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Stop apologizing,” Rafe shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize for feeling what you’re feeling. But you’ve gotta start trusting that I’m okay."

You nodded, swallowing hard. “I know.”

"You’re allowed to let me take care of you too, you know?”

You let out a small laugh, wiping the last of the tears from your face. “I’m not great at that.”

“Meh, you used to be a lot worse.”

“Yeah?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, leaning into his familiar warmth.

“Oh yeah,” he smirked, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You used to keep everything so locked up, I’d have to pry things out of you.

His words made you chuckle, despite yourself. It was true. You had gotten better at letting him in—at least compared to before.

“You’ve always been so good at taking care of me,” you whispered, your hand tracing soft patterns across his chest. “But I guess sometimes I still forget that I don’t have to be strong all the time.”

 “You don’t. I’ve got you, baby. I’ve always got you.”

He meant it—every word. This was Rafe at his best, the man who had fought his way back from the darkness, who had become the partner you always knew he could be. The boy you fell in love with, the man you were going to marry and grow old with.

“I’m really trying,” you murmured, blinking back the last of your tears. “I don’t want to keep worrying about everything or trying to control what’s out of my hands. I just want us to be happy.”

“You make me happier than I’ve ever been, and I don’t want you to ever doubt that.”

You hesitated for a second, biting your lip before finally speaking up.

"Rafe?" you said softly, looking up at him. He hummed in response, his hand still tracing slow, comforting circles on your back.

"Are you… are you sure you're not sad about the, uh, not pregnant thing?" Your voice was quiet, unsure. You didn’t know why you felt the need to ask again. Even with all his reassurances, a part of you couldn’t ignore the worry that he might feel disappointed deep down.

He sighed gently, his lips quirking into a soft, understanding smile. "Baby, no," he said firmly, shaking his head as if to emphasize his point. "I promise you, I’m not sad. It doesn’t change anything between us. I told you before—we’ve got time. I’m happy with where we are right now. I don’t need a baby to make me feel complete. You already do that."

You couldn't help but ask again, just to be sure. "Really? You’re not disappointed?"

Rafe sighed softly, moving his hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear as he looked at you with those steady blue eyes. "Not disappointed. Not sad. I’m just glad you’re here. That’s all I care about. I’m fine with whatever the outcome is as long as I have you.”

"You’re really okay with this?" 

He frowned slightly, his hand coming up to gently tilt your chin so you were looking directly at him. "Listen to me. You could never disappoint me. Okay?"

You still had questions, still had insecurities about the future, but for the first time in days, you weren’t consumed by them and allowed yourself to believe that everything really was going to be good.

"Okay."

[its-avalon-08]

Hi! Could you please write something where reader and Lando have been together for a while and the hate never got to her until she saw a comment about her using Lando’s money and Lando never had a problem with it. But reader starts using her own money but she doesn’t have a lot of it and one day she misses a call from the bank and Lando answers it and finds out her funds are low and he put it together. Happy needing though where Lando reassures her that he loves her using his money.

what's mine is yours (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - gold digger tweets, money problems, tears, fluff

Lando and Y/N had always had an easygoing relationship. From the moment they met, things just clicked. They’d been inseparable for years, growing through the ups and downs of the racing world together. She was his anchor, and he was her biggest supporter. Despite the scrutiny from the public eye, their relationship was grounded in mutual respect and understanding. Lando always made sure she felt cherished, often indulging her with gifts, fancy dinners, and trips—but none of that ever really mattered to Y/N. She loved Lando, not his lifestyle.

Still, there was always an undercurrent of judgment from certain corners of social media, as there often is for the partners of famous athletes. Y/N had long trained herself to tune out the negative noise. But today was different.

Sitting on the couch while Lando was out at a sponsorship event, she scrolled through Twitter. It had been a typical day, filled with photos of the two of them that fans had posted, some sweet comments and, as usual, some not-so-sweet ones. She should’ve stopped scrolling when she saw a thread discussing her. But instead, her eyes caught on one tweet.

@SpeedyPaddock: "Does Y/N ever spend a single dollar of her own? I swear all I see is Lando footing the bill. She’s just another gold digger… probably why Lando doesn’t mind either, right? He’s got the money to throw around."

Her heart sank. Y/N stared at the screen, feeling her chest tighten. She had never thought of it that way—sure, Lando loved spoiling her, and she’d accepted his generosity because it made him happy. But was she really taking advantage of him?

She shook her head, trying to clear the heaviness settling in her chest. No, Lando would never think that. Yet, the words echoed in her mind, twisting her perception. What if other people thought the same thing? What if they saw her as nothing more than someone who used Lando’s wealth to get by?

I can't do this anymore, she decided. She wasn’t going to be seen that way. From now on, she'd stop using any of Lando’s money. She wouldn’t tell him—it wasn’t his fault, and she didn’t want to burden him with her insecurities.

Y/N sighed, putting her phone away, her mind already racing with ways to distance herself from his lavish spending. This wasn't about them, it was about her.

time skip

The shift was subtle at first. Y/N stopped suggesting they go out to fancy dinners or buy anything extravagant. She even started paying for smaller things—coffee, groceries, or an Uber here and there. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go to their favorite restaurants or enjoy the life they’d built together, but she didn’t want to add fuel to the assumptions people were making online. Every time Lando offered to cover something, she’d smile and politely insist on taking care of it herself.

Lando, oblivious to what was going on in her head, didn’t think much of it at first. He’d tease her with a grin, “Trying to outdo me, are you?” And she’d laugh it off, hiding the unease in her heart.

But as the weeks passed, the strain began to show. Y/N wasn’t rich—not by Lando’s standards, not by any stretch. Her savings weren’t endless, and the more she tried to maintain this facade of independence, the more she found herself running low on funds. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep this up, but the thought of being seen as a "gold digger" kept pushing her forward.

One afternoon, as Lando was lounging on the couch, Y/N’s phone rang. She was out picking up some last-minute groceries, and without thinking, Lando picked it up when he saw the caller ID—her bank.

"Hello, this is Lando. I’m answering for Y/N."

The bank representative, not knowing any different, politely responded, "Hello, sir. We were just calling to inform Ms. Y/L/N that her account balance is quite low, and we’ve noticed a few declined transactions recently. We recommend a transfer or deposit soon to avoid further issues."

Lando’s face dropped, confusion swirling through his mind. "Uh, okay. I’ll let her know. Thank you." He hung up and stared at the phone for a moment, piecing things together.

When Y/N returned home, she found Lando sitting on the edge of the couch, her phone in his hand, a serious expression on his face.

"Hey, everything okay?" she asked, setting the groceries down.

He looked up, his blue eyes soft but concerned. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

Y/N froze. She had no idea what he was talking about. "Tell you what?"

"The bank called. They said your account’s low… and that there have been some declined transactions. Y/N, why are you doing this?" His voice was gentle but filled with worry.

Her heart sank. "Lando, I—" She trailed off, not sure how to explain. The tweet flashed in her mind again, and she could feel the walls closing in.

Lando stood up and walked over to her, his hands resting on her shoulders. "Talk to me. Please."

She exhaled slowly, her voice trembling. "I saw a comment a few weeks ago… someone said I was just using your money. That I’m a gold digger and that you don’t care because you can afford it. It got to me, Lando. I didn’t want people to think that I’m only with you for your money. So, I started using my own… but I didn’t realize how fast it would run out."

Lando’s expression softened even more, his brow furrowing as he pulled her into a hug. "Oh, Y/N…"

She buried her face into his chest, feeling the weight of her decision catch up with her. "I didn’t want to tell you because it wasn’t your fault. It’s just stupid people online. But I didn’t want to be seen that way."

He pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hands. "Listen to me. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re with me because you love me, and I love you. It’s never been about money, and it never will be."

"But—" she started, but he cut her off gently.

"No, but. I want to spoil you. I want to take you to nice places, buy you things, and make you happy. That’s what people do when they love each other. It doesn’t mean you’re using me. You’re not a gold digger, Y/N. You’ve never been." He kissed her forehead softly. "You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Especially not to me."

Tears welled up in her eyes, not from sadness, but from relief. She’d been carrying this burden for so long, and now, hearing Lando say those words, it felt like the weight had been lifted. "I just didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you."

"I know you, Y/N," he whispered. "You could never do that. I love you, and I love sharing my life with you. That includes my money, okay? We’re a team. Whatever’s mine is yours."

Y/N nodded, tears spilling over as she smiled softly. "I love you too, Lando. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner."

He wiped her tears away with his thumb, smiling back. "Don’t be. Just promise me one thing."

"What?" she asked.

"Promise me you won’t listen to those idiots online. They don’t know us. They don’t know what we have."

Y/N let out a soft laugh. "I promise."

Lando grinned, pulling her into another tight hug. "Good. Now, let’s go out tonight. My treat. And before you say anything, it always will be."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, the tension finally easing between them. "Fine. But I’m picking the place."

"Deal."

[velnna]

I know you generally work fast but I'm curious on how long on average it takes for you to get out a page of ThUG? I haven't had the opportunity to read it yet (it looks SO good) but I'm making the assumption a page is the size of an average print comic style versus webtoon scroll episode length format. Also curious on what short cuts you might take to get them out faster/more efficiently. I'm currently planning a comic in a similar format and am trying to plan my process ahead.

Thank you!

I don't do whole pages in one go (I do all the thumbnails then all the lineart then all the colour) so it's hard to tell exactly how long but maybe around 3-6h per page? Which makes a chapter (25-30 ish pages) take around 150 ish hours. I definitely prefer this to the webtoon format for a number of reasons, one of which being the satisfaction you get seeing a bunch of panels come together versus having to scroll through them separately.

In terms of speed, my entire process is pretty optimised for it, both in comics and outside. I stick to an A5 format and downsize it further (I tend to work with pages at 1000px width and 300dpi) to keep myself from overworking details. If an eye closeup feels tiring to get right or loses proportion, my resolution is too high

I also use textured brushes and leave the lineart more like a clean sketch, which allows me to not only skip straight from thumbnails to it but also to skip work on backgrounds, objects and figures at a certain distance

The main point of comic work is to convey emotions, movement, etc, not to draw everything accurate all the time, and that's probably the biggest lesson I've learned over the past years. You want your art to evolve in a way that means even without a lot of shading/linework/detail the scene gets properly conveyed, imo

Aside from that, I skip work on SFX and just. Write the sounds down or sketch motion lines as basic as they get. That's a stylistic choice but it works for me. And I have a workspace + automated actions + keyboard shortcuts that are all sort of optimised to make me move as little as possible between tasks and screens etc

[earlysunshines]

order for delivery!

pham hanni x fem!reader

synopsis: hanni is a terrible multi-tasker and it's very evident when her phone is in between her ear and shoulder while she orders delivery. she's messily figuring out what to tackle on her calendar first as she mumbles her order, what lecture notes to go over, when her midterms fall---and oops, she just said 'love you, bye' to the worker on the other end of the phone.

warnings: none(?) i think it's just rly silly and cute and fluffy ; anything else i didn't mention ; not proofread

a/n: ugh she's so cute and such a loser and UGH anyways i wrote this so quickly but maybe that's because i love thsi fic so much it was so so so fun to write omfg ENJOY!!

hanni is a terrible multitasker, it only ends up in her getting things mixed up and done slower. still, she does it anyway.

her phone is tucked awkwardly between her ear and shoulder, fingers tapping at the laptop keyboard while scrolling through lecture notes. “uh, yeah… chicken lo mein with extra chicken… and um also…” she squinted at the calendar on her screen. “what was i supposed to— oh, right… midterm next wednesday. right, cool.”

on the other end you listened patiently, smiling to yourself and holding back a small giggle as she mumbled half an order while clearly being busy with other things.

“wait, sorry!” she apologizes quickly, realizing she hadn’t ordered what minji and haerin had asked for. “also six steamed pork dumplings— no, twelve please. shrimp fried rice and… wait, i already said that, right? ugh—anyway, just, yeah, add that too.”

you ring it all up, smiling wider. “anything else?”

there’s a brief moment of silence until you hear, “huh? oh, no, that’s it.” she replies absentmindedly. she had been paying no attention at all, flipping through her notes and muttering to herself quietly about what she needed to review before the weekend. “uh, yeah, thanks—love you, bye.”

another beat of silence passes before you chime in, voice playful. “love you too.”

you could practically hear her freeze, the realization hits her. you hear a gasp on the other end of the phone, sharp and followed by a small curse.

‘w-wait, what?” hanni stammers, cheeks heating up like crazy. everything hanni had been bombarded with halts. her hands freeze on the laptop, her phone almost slips from her shoulder, and the papers she had been holding with the other hand have all landed on teh counter. everything hanni had been thinking about—midterm wednesday, lecture notes, module 2.2, chapter three reading—dissapear from her mind in a blink.

she hears a laugh on the other end, then a voice that sends a shiver down her spine. 

“your total is $28.41, by the way.”

“god, i’m sorry.” hanni rushes out the apology, face palming herself. “i didn’t mean it— not that i don’t love you! well, i mean, i don’t know you, so i don’t love you. not that i hate you! no hard feelings. i’m not saying you’re— okay i’m, i’m going to go. bye. thank you. sorry.”

hanni presses the red button on her phone, ending the call and cringing to herself. hanni is more than glad that her friends in the living room hadn’t heard the most embarassing phonecall of her life. if any of them were to witness it, she’d never live it down. her cheeks are fuming against her hand; she’s a mess, she really needs to stop tackling twelve things at once even though it brings her some type of comfort—less chaos during lots of chaos makes it seem like something manageable.

she clicks through a bunch of tabs, skims through a few lines on her paper, and then closes her laptop. she does this while being distracted by the whole one minute interaction from earlier, shooting herself in the head mentally everytime she thinks of it.

less than twenty minutes later, the delivery guy shows up. hanni knows it’s not the person on the phone, because when the man speaks, it’s not the same voice that sent a weird shiver down her spine when she realized they said “love you too” back to her.

she takes the two bags over to her living room, setting them down in front of two ravenous students—otherwise known as her best friends danielle and minji—watching their eyes sparkle just from the sight. she rolls her eyes at them, sitting down against her small couch and leaning against as they waste no time to dig in and unbox.

hanni’s the last one to reach in and grab something to munch on—mistake number one. mistake number two is catching minji furrowing her brows at a piece of paper, pickiing it up and reading, instead of stopping her before she can do any of that.

her best friend reads it outloud in a confused tone: “i put two extra fortune cookies in there,” minji begins, danielle scoots over to read too. “hope your fortune is as sweet as your voice. love, the girl you don’t hate, but don’t love :(“

“p.s. you sound cute when you’re caught off guard ;-)”

minji finishes reading, and then the two of her friends look up, staring down hanni.

“hanni, what’s this?”

“i— give me that!” hanni says, face burning up. she swipes the paper from minji’s hand, looking at the paper and covering it with her hand like her friends hadn’t just read it together. she cringes, closing her eyes and falling down on teh floor. “i’m an idiot.”

“hanniiiiii” danielle whines, scooting over to shake her by her shoulders while she’s on the floor. “what’s that about? do you have an admirer or something?”

“i can’t tell you, i just, i’m so stupid.”

“dude, what?” minji questions, completely ignoring the steaming, delicious food on the coffee table. “explain—now.”

hanni feels her heart beating like crazy, then she gives in and sits up. her face is most definitely beet red, maybe even worse when she glances at the note again.

“i accidentally said ‘love you, bye’ to the worker on the phone.” hanni says quietly, shaking her head. “and she said it back.”

“she what?” danielle and minji say in unison, looking at her in disbelief.

hanni lets out a weird noise, overwhelmed and flustered beyond words. she looks down at the note again through the spaces in her fingers as she covers her face, not noticing any name or anything that might lead to another encounter with the mystery girl on the other end of the line. this disappoints her a bit, but even if she were to have a name or number or anything, she wouldn’t be able to face you. 

after getting teased to death, the trio indulges in food after a very long and tiring study session. the conversation shifts to annoying professors, upcoming midterms, plans for when they all have free time—but hanni is still thinking of you, oddly enough.

—

a little over a week from that day, hanni orders takeout again. she’s somehow forgotten (for the most part) her embarrassing interaction, probably because her midterm is tomorrow and she’s completely forgotten to eat. her phone sits in between her shoulder and ear again, head tilted awkwardly to rush out an order. 

“alpha waves, altruism, anorexia nervosa… shit, sorry. um yeah, i’d like six steamed dumplings please, pork. umm… chow mein— no, scratch that. shrimp fried rice please.” her words are hurried out her mouth as she furrows her brows at her laptop screen, clicking through slides and trying to comprehend two units of psychology in one night. “that’s it, thank you, love you.”

hanni stops in place, frozen in shock. there is no way.

“wow, you must be smitten, huh?” she hears on the end of the line, followed by a small chuckle. “love you too, ‘hp.’” hanni had never used her full name when ordering things, well, only food. she always had this fear of sharing her legal name unless it was for unconsumable orders. “your total is $14.89 by the way.” 

you hear a groan on the end of the line, followed by what sounds like pens and pencils hitting the floor.

“...you alright?”

hanni, caught off guard by the whole conversation for the most part, but also the fact that you noticed how she had just spilled half her supplies onto her apartment floor, answers with a simple, “yeah.”

“that’s good to hear.”

“i’m really sorry, again, for the… you know.”

“your undying love for me?”

“what?” hanni says, completely disregarding the pens, pencils, and highlighters on the floor. “i- no! no. i’m not in love with you! i didn’t mean it—”

“i’m teasing, hp.” she hears the smile in your voice. “would you like an extra fortune? last time i had heard from you i remember something about a midterm.”

“you remembered?” it sounds a little pathetic, maybe desperate coming from hanni, but hanni couldn’t care less. she’s tired, overwhelmed, and has gone over so much work in the span of a few days that she really can’t think or function correctly.

“yeah, not many people sound as young as you. it’s usually a parent or something ordering for their family at this time. plus, you made my shift.” you confess, “i thought it was cute, you know, how frantic you had ordered your meal.”

“i’m really sorry about that, like seriously, i’m really, really sorry.”

“it’s okay hp.”

“right, yeah. i uh, i have to study. sorry— i don’t know why i’m saying sorry, ugh, sorry. thanks, bye.”

“no ‘love you?’” you ask, and before hanni can answer you respond, “kidding. i’ll throw in two fried wontons, have a good night hp.”

the call ends and hanni blinks a few times as she tries to process what just happened. she’s embarrassed beyond words, just as flustered too. there might even be a blush on her cheeks, she can’t stop thinking about how smooth you were with your teasing, plus the way your voice sounded. 

hanni thinks it’s the midterm getting to her, the stress. she cleans up the mess on the floor and goes through her vocabulary notes. she hears a knock on the door twenty minutes later which makes her jump in her seat.

she grabs the bag of fried rice and dumplings, placing it on the counter before taking everything out. hanni hears her stomach rumble a bit, she definitely underestimated how hungry she was.

before hanni digs in, she notices two fortune cookies and a note at the bottom. she completely ignores the cookies, grabbing the note and opening it up to see the same small handwriting from last time:

“i’m guessing your initials are hp? i could be wrong… 

hp like harry potter? it makes sense because you’re magical.

good luck on your midterm! hopefully you’ll order for a post-midterm celebration.

p.s. there are extra fried wontons ;p”

hanni smiles as she reads the note. pause. hanni stops smiling immediately when she becomes aware of the fact that she’s smiling because of a note. a note from a mystery woman on the other end of the line.

—

midterms are over, all of them. hanni had gone through all four midterms. all four. hanni’s burnt out to oblivion, finding comfort in her bed as soon as she gets back from her last midterm. she checks her messages and is greeted by the groupchat she’s in with danielle and minji.

minji: FINALLY i feel like a fish that’s been gutted out it’s not even finals lowk wasn’t even that bad actually how about you guys

danielle: my midterm is in an hour!  wish me luck :D how was yours hanni?

hanni: i’m about to PASS OUT why did i choose forensics

minji: because you’re a nerd don’t let one biology midterm screw you over who’s going to take care of my body parts when i suddenly get murdered

danielle: woah quite a situation, no?

hanni: uagghshhskafhjk i’m going to sleep GOODNIGHT do you guys want to come over later dani do you need time to unwind before you come over

danielle: no that’s alright! i find your apartment quite cozy i’ll just crash there right after, thanks han okay i’m going to review a bit more wish me luck!

minji: good luck mo dani!! you can do it  we love you

hanni: good luck! you’ve got this

danielle:  ❤️

hanni smiles at danielle’s message, she’s always so positive—even through text, even during these trying times. she decides to pass out for almost two hours, waking up groggy and finding herself almost tripping all the way back to her couch in the living room. she sighs as she collapses onto the cushions, waiting for minji and danielle to come over.

then her thoughts race back to you, embarassingly enough. she thinks about your stupid flirting, your stupid voice, and the stupid giggle she could hear through the phone. she thinks about how stupid she is for smiling, how stupid she is. everything is stupid.

hanni is fantasizing about some random person she’s ordered affordable chinese food from, she doesn’t even know her name. 

(hanni’s brain is mush.)

instinctively, she goes through her recent calls, dialing the number of the restaurant that serves her favorite dumplings. 

it rings for a few seconds before someone answers, “hello?”

the voice isn’t familiar whatsoever, hanni feels a strange discomfort in her stomach. 

hanni doesn’t realize that she hasn’t spoken a word until the second “hello?” is uttered. she breaks from her trance.

“hi, hello, yeah, hi.”

“hello, what can i get you?”

hanni purses her lips before replying, “oh, um.” she sounds like a sad child. “fried rice, i’ll do chicken. wontons, fried, twelve of them. could i also get beef-broccoli lo mein?”

she hears nothing for about three seconds, then a hum. “got it, could i get a name for that order?”

“hp.” 

“y/n’s ‘hp?’” who the hell is y/n? hanni thinks to herself. 

“what?”

“nevermind.” the worker says with her monotone voice. “will that be it?”

“yeah, thank you.” hanni doesn’t say ‘love you’ this time. she tells herself it’s because she’s not preoccupied with at least three things in that same moment, but a part of it is because it’s not the same voice that she had been expecting to hear. “what’s the total?”

“$24.12. it’ll be over in a little more than twenty minutes.”

“okay, thank you.” hanni says, and instead of hearing something snarky back—she hears a hum, and then the call ends.

…

you walk into work later than usual, one of your midterms had been pushed a bit later, so your hours were cut off. 

as you walk in, you catch your coworker’s head snap up. as soon as she realizes it’s you, she relaxes a bit.

“good evening haerin!” you beam, somehow upbeat and lively even after your grueling calculus midterm. “miss me?”

“just had to take more calls than i ever do in one week.” she sighs, watching you move over behind the counter and push your bag under the desk. “so maybe a little.”

“awww, you missed me so much.”

“shut up.” haerin groans, sitting down in the little chair where no customers can catch her. “you know what you missed?”

“what?”

“your girlfriend called—miss hp.”

“hp?!” you say it like you’ve just missed the train that comes every two hours. “seriously? did she say ‘love you?’”

“of course that’s what you’re so animated about.” haerin rolls her eyes at you, shrugging. “she didn’t.”

a sigh of relief escapes your lips, a very exaggerated one for that matter. then you frown, sitting down in the spinny chair nearby and rotating yourself in your seat like a little kid.

“i can’t believe i missed her.”

“you’re actually insane for flirting with a customer.”

“she has a cute voice.”

“you don’t even know her y/n.” haerin scoots over, but only to flick you in the forehead. she leans back in her seat, smirking. you rub your skin and pout at her, making her roll her eyes once more before she continues on, “she could be old, crinkly, and married or something. what if she’s like… balding? what if her teeth are falling out and she—”

“why are you assuming the worst haerin. you’re so— whatever. she sounds my age, i guess. it’s just fun to mess around, it’s cute.”

“i will never get you.” your coworker crosses her arms, jumping at the sound of the phone ringing. “could you get that? i’ve run out of social battery.”

“it’s a phone call haerin.”

“talking to you drained me already.”

you frown, making her giggle at you.

—

the next time hanni calls is two days later, because she’s a loser that can’t seem to get the thought of the chinese restaurant employee who keeps flirting with her (albeit smoothly) out of her head. the phone rings twice, then someone picks up, and hanni waits eagerly.

“hi, pledis plates, how can i help?” it’s you, it’s you. the memory of hearing ‘y/n’s hp?’ pops up in her head—could you be y/n? you have to be.

“hi.” hanni says simply, biting the inside of her lip. she hears a small chuckle on the other end of the line, slightly relieved.

“if it isn’t hp.” it comes out cheeky, making hanni blush. “missed you, you know?”

“what?”

“did you miss me too?”

“i–” yes. hanni did miss you, not like she’d admit it, at least out loud. “i’d like to order dumplings.”

“harsh.” you respond jokingly, “six, pork, and steamed, got it.”

“you memorized it?” 

“you ordered it last time.”

hanni can’t help but laugh, smiling as she holds the phone against her ear. “you must be head over heels to be remembering my order.”

“you’re the one who confessed first though?”

“that was a mistake.”

“uh huh.” amusement is laced in your tone. “it’ll be five dollars, should be there in less than twenty.”

“great.”

 hanni doesn’t know what else to say. you both pause, letting silence and the faint static ring in your ears.

“what happened to the usual goodbye?”

hanni feels herself shrinking in her bed, feet kicking slightly, blush forming. god, she’s head over heels, she’s insane, she doesn’t know a single thing about you other than the fact that you have a really endearing voice and that your flirting is enough to have her smiling like an idiot.

“thanks, bye.” neither of you hang up after hanni says it, knowing there’s something missing. hanni pinches the bridge of her nose, feeling her stomach closing in on herself and simultaneously doing a flip. her heart nearly jumps out of her chest as she chokes out, “love you.”

“i was waiting for that one.”

“a-are you— really?”

“yeah.” you simply state, and you say nothing else but, “bye hp.”

“you’re not going to say it back?”

you grin to yourself. hanni hears a small, amused laugh fromthe other end, sending a shiver down her spine. “i don’t fold that easy, maybe next time.” you hang up right after, leaving hanni dumbfounded.

hanni looks at her phone like you’re going to call back, but you don’t. she drops the phone on her bed, putting both hands over her face and feeling her skin burn against her palms. she groans, then groans again, and sighs finally. 

maybe next time. there’s going to be a next time—hanni has that at least.

—

hanni calls again the next monday, around two days after the last call. it’s the same day she had first said the infamous ‘love you’ to you on accident. she calls at around the same time, laptop on her lap as she taps lightly on the backspace key, though not enough to actually press it. she wonders to herself for a moment, is the dent in her wallet really worth it? has she really reached rock bottom?

“pledis plates, what would you like to order?”

it’s not you. hanni sinks into the cushion of her couch and feels herself deflate. she can’t always call with the assumption that you’ll pick up, there are other employees after all. this time, it’s the same monotone voice she had heard before, a stark contrast to your flirtatious, lively tone.

“hi, i’d just like—”

“ah, hp.”

“how did you—”

“i remember your voice from last time. y/n was quite sad when she realized she’d missed your call by twenty minutes.”

“what do you mean?”

“she came into work late, midterms or something.”

midterms. the information alone gives her the assumption that you’re also in college, maybe even in her grade, and if she’s pushing it maybe you even go to her university. she conjures up a better picture of you now, not quite clear or concrete, but it’s something.

“is she a student?”

“i don’t know if i can leak that, she told me to be very secretive about her. i don’t think you’ll have trouble finding out more though, she never shuts up.”

hanni snickers, so you’re a talker too. yeah, hanni’s into that.

“well now i know her name.”

“do what you will with that.” the girl mutters. hanni hears a small sigh, then another response, “hey, y/n was curious about you. are you in high school?”

“what— no! do i sound like it?”

“you sound young.” the girl on the end of the line—haerin—shrugs. she continues, “y/n thinks you’re the same age as her, she also assumes you’re cute. i guess no one will know until a miracle happens.”

“i can’t tell if you’re insulting me.” hanni chuckles awkwardly, but haerin doesn’t respond.  “but if it helps, anyway, i’m a sophomore in college. tell her i’m interested in forensics.”

“okay.”

silence follows again, but haerin hasn’t hung up, and hanni still holds the phone against her ear expecting something more. hanni decides to take another step, asking, “y/n, how is… could you like, describe her?”

“physically or…? well, i can do a brief description. to start off: annoying, jokes a lot, pretends to be all mopey when insulted. physically: taller than me—i’d say taller than a lot of women. she has a nice smile i guess, but it’s the kind you want to wipe off her face, ugh, it’s like she’s making fun of you when she does it. her hair is also always a little messy, she says its for the ‘appeal,’ but i see none.”

hanni fights back a giggle. this woman has just spilled a good amount, a perfect amount in hanni’s eyes (any amount is alright, anything more than a name). this ‘y/n’ is tall, taller than most women, and hanni is shorter than most; hanni is into that, she loves taller girls. and messy hair too? that’s cute, probably. as long as it’s not the same type of messy that men rock around—men that barely shower or do anything. essentially: compsci majors—then hanni will be alright. you sound wonderful.

“did you want to order anything? or are did you just want to flirt with the idiot.”

“hey! hey, hey. lets not— ugh, okay, could i just get um, six pork dumplings—steamed.”

“okay.” the girl says quietly, and then hanni hears some light tapping. “six dumplings for hp.”

“hanni. it’s hanni. my name is hanni.”

“got it the first time.”

“you’re bright, aren’t you?”

“your order is going to be there later, bye.” and then the girl hangs up, leaving hanni speechless.

—

hanni waits a few days to call, because she doesn’t remember dialing on tuesdays or wednesdays and hearing a voice that brings her a little thrill. she leans against her counter waiting for a response, then lights up when she hears,

“pledis plates, how can i help?”

“y/n.” hanni says, almost relieved. “hi.”

“hi hanni.” your coworker must’ve leaked that conversation, hanni thinks. “nice to hear from you.”

“likewise.”

“can i get six dumplings? pork and—”

“---steamed, yes.” you’re smiling as you say it, like an eager little child. “nothing else?”

“no.”

“alright.” you respond, clicking two tabs and ringing up her order. you don’t give her the cost or anything, staring at the screen and deciding to huff out, “forensics?” you’re starting a real conversion now, what a step.

hanni is smiling hard, she’s so giddy that she’s twirling a piece of hair around her pointer finger. 

“yeah, i think it’s nice.”

“cute.” you mumble, “i’m studying kinesiology.”

“is that so?”

“unfortunately.” you say lightheartedly. hanni doesn’t know what to respond with, she wants to continue the conversation and hear your voice longer, but there’s nothing she can think of. does she ask for your number? how you are? hanni is useless, she’s always been useless when it came to girls.

“hanni?”

“y-yes?” hanni cringes at the slight stutter.

“your total is five dollars. it’ll be there soon.”

“oh,” hanni says sadly, “i mean, um. okay.”

and then she hangs up, a little defeated, but there’s always a next time…right?

when her food gets there, she hurriedly pays the delivery driver, making her wallet cry even more. there’s a note in the bag, along with two fortune cookies. the note has your name and a number on it, making hanni gasp and smile to herself again. there’s a little ‘text me, miss hanni. i’m looking forward to it.’ and as soon as hanni reads it, she clasps her hands together, squeals quietly into them, giggles, and kicks her feet in the air.

hanni tries to do some schoolwork, managing to get ten minutes of reading down, a few sentences jotted down, and then the rest of the time she’s thinking about her new saved contact. she hasn’t texted you yet, mainly because she had been overthinking about what and when to text you. she contemplates texting danielle and minji about it, but she’d just be teased. 

this is the first time in a while since hanni’s gotten anywhere close to something romantic, or maybe this is platonic, but the flirting doesn’t support that idea. she’s tried tinder—once, once and never again—and going to parties. nothing works out, none of them make her giddy and giggly like this. 

before she knows it, two hours have passed, and so she decides to send a simple “hi, this is hanni!’ 

too enthusiastic? too bland? too basic? ugh. hanni groans, lying on her couch in an uncomfortable position.

you reply almost immediately with ‘hey, i’m off in twenty minutes. let’s call?’ and hanni has to put the phone to her chest, looking up at the ceiling in disbelief.

twenty minutes passes by too quickly, hanni hasn’t even figured out what to say. she looks at her phone, waiting for you to call, and when you do, she short circuits; hanni drops her phone on her face.

“hello?” it’s you.

it’s you.

“hey. um, how was work?”

“aw, even asking me about work.” she can hear the smirk in your tone, rolling her eyes as she smiles to herself. “it was fine, my favorite part was when this girl ordered pork dumplings though. she has a cute voice.”

“is that so?”

“yeah. hey, can i ask you something?”

“what is it?”

“i work tomorrow, but its the morning shift. i end at one, i was you know… wondering if you… wanted…” you sound nervous, this is a first for hanni. “if you wanted to share some dumplings, free of charge.”

hanni covers her mouth almost immediately, suppressing any signs of her freaking out.

“are you asking me out?”

“only if you say yes.”

you hear a giggle before you hear a “yes.”

“really?”

“mhm.” hanni smiles again, thinking of something that’ll leave you just as flustered. “okay, well… i’ll see your tomorrow. bye, love you.”

“love you too hanni.”

—

minji’s usually the one who picks up orders if it’s not delivery, and hanni is almost always taking the orders. so when hanni enters the shop for the first time, she’s quite fond of the smell of ingredients being stir fried or steamed, as well as the interior of the place. it’s very nice inside, hopefully the nice person she’s been meaning to see shows up soon.

there’s a girl by the counter, she’s only slightly taller than hanni, and her eyes are oddly cat-like. she looks up at her with those eyes, then shoots a small smile.

“hi, how can i help?” this is who the monotone voice belongs to. her image somehow matches perfectly with the voice.

“hi, i’m hanni.” as soon as she introduces herself, the workers eyes widen.

“woah, you’re real.”

“surprising, i know.”

“y/n is changing in the back—she was eager to get off fives minutes early so she wouldn’t be in uniform when you showed up.” haerin explains, shaking her head. “it’s nice to meet you, you’re very pretty.”

“thank you! i appreciate it. you’re pretty as well.”

haerin doesn’t get to respond. the person who does respond is the girl walking up to the register, scooting haerin to the side with her knuckles and tapping at the screen. the girl isn’t in uniform, and she’s also really good looking. 

you run a hand through your hair as you clock out through the system. “hey, did hanni ever stop by?” you ask haerin, not looking up from the screen because you’ve typed your code in wrong. 

“look up idiot.” your coworker snickers, and when you do, you’re met with the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever seen.

you notice her right away, hair flowing down past her chest, curtain bangs perfectly framing her face. her plump lips and striking features make you pause. sure, you expected her to be pretty—maybe even conventionally attractive, everyone is in their own way—but seeing her in person? she’s beyond that, practically model material. my god. your lips part slightly in surprise, and you catch yourself, quickly swallowing as you both smile at each other at the same time.

you clock out—thankfully not typing in the wrong code again from nervousness—and step out from behind the counter. a small tote bag hangs from your shoulder, and a plastic bag dangles in your hand. you glance down at it.

“twelve dumplings—steamed, pork, everything you like—for the pair.”

hanni’s smile lights up her face, and you can't help but think about how adorable she looks, how effortlessly charming she is.

“why thank you,” she says, her voice soft and playful. it sounds better in person than through the phone.

“you’re gorgeous, by the way,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself, still marveling at her. “like, i expected you to be pretty, but… wow.” you can tell haerin is fake gagging or rolling her eyes or something like that from behind, she’s probably already on her way to avoid witnessing this interaction.

hanni blushes instantly, the red creeping up her cheeks. if she were at home, she’d probably be giggling and kicking her feet, but for now, she just looks away shyly, smiling. “thanks, you’re really cute too.”

“you think?”

“yes.” she meets your eyes, still flushed. “can we eat? i’m hungry.”

“right, yeah. i hope it’s not too forward, but is the park nearby good? we can settle down and, um… talk more. you know, more than just about your usual order.”

hanni laughs—you might die right then and there—before responding, “that’s perfect,” and then she nods, looking at you. her eyes are soft and warm and wonderful.

“great,” you echo.

“great,” she repeats, a small laugh escaping her.

you both walk side by side, still a little stiff at first, the mutual attraction between you creating an unspoken tension. but as you settle into the rhythm of conversation, the initial awkwardness fades away, replaced by the easy flow of natural chemistry. each step feels lighter, the distance between you shrinking with every passing word.

—

—

—

hanni hears a knock at her door, confused because she hadn’t expected any guests other than minji and danielle—who are already in her living room leeching off her netflix account. 

she opens it to see you, which immediately brings a smile to her face. she almost leaps over to hug you, nearly making you drop the large bag in your hand.

“someone missed me.”

“shut up.” hanni says before pecking your lips. she looks at you, your dorky, adorable face, and then presses another longer kiss. “come in babe. i didn’t expect you to be here.”

“i got off early because i had to cover. i wanted to surprise you, and i know you had company over.”

“oh yeah,” hanni had almost forgotten that her best friends had been there.

she leads you over, helping you take off your tote and setting it on her counter. her friends catch the two of you from their peripheral and wave, then their eyes light up at the sight of the familiar bag in your hand. you set it down, placing a the container of fried rice, lo mein, and dumpling down as they treat you like a savior.

“thank you so much, i owe you my first born.” danielle says, giving you a playful pout.

minji snickers, scooting up to the coffee table. “you’re the best thing that’s happened to us—to hanni.”

you look over to your girlfriend, that’s right, she’s your girlfriend. hanni is rolling her eyes at you, pushing your shoulder, and then pulling you in by the wrist to sit next to her. she’s not one for pda—especially in front of danielle and minji—but under the table her fingers graze your skin, which makes you smile.

you grab a secret container from behind your back, handing it to hanni. when she opens it, she opens her mouth, shocked and grateful for the six steamed pork dumplings that you brought just for her.

[marengogo]

UGH!-9: Y’all Done Did It

Listening to the play list Who is Standing next to you 

[Music is a very big part of my life and I’m MOSTLY INCAPABLE of writing without music, so I just thought I'd share what I am listening to while writing this]

–🐺–🐺–🐺–

Yes, I am enjoying my day-off, thank you for asking 😘. In fact, everything was going 🍑y, and then, as I scrolled on my husband’s post to see if other people had requested PIXID and liking all the ones who requested it 💜 I noticed one comment, and then a similar one and then I started scrolling …

WHAT THE FUCK IS ALL THIS?:

The whole time AYS aired I left it alone. I saw this type of comments on the Blue Bird app, but I left it alone.

I thought: “Blue Bird AMI don’t know better Marengo, let them be …”, “Once the show is finished everyone will go back to their regularly scheduled stanning …” … that’s what I kept telling myself 😩 yet; here we are. 

For Fuck Sake:

Are You Sure?! ���🏾 Is a Jungkook 👏🏾 and Jimin 👏🏾Show 👏🏾. Period👏🏾.

Do you know American Hustle Life? Yes! It is a Joonie, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi, JM, Tae and JK show.

Do you know Bon Voyage? Yes! It is a Joonie, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi, JM, Tae and JK show.

Do you know In The Soop? Yes! It is a Joonie, Jin, Yoongi, Hobi, JM, Tae and JK show.

IT REALLY AIN’T THAT HARD. 

I don't even know how to keep explaining this. Forget the shipping, forget the fact that JK and JM might be a couple, forget ALL OF IT:

I know I still have to do the EI post about JK, but let me say this for the MILLIONTH TIME: JK IS NOR STUPID OR CRUEL. If he, and JM, wanted a show where they would invite members every other episode, they would have a show where they would invite members every other episode and this would have been clear from the very beginning, because just like myself, I believe organization and routine to be a big part of JK’s life. Tae was an exception/special guest. As simple as.

Does this mean that they hate the members' presence? No. Do they want to leave the band? No. Do they think they are the most important members? NO. It simply means that maybe, just maybe, these two particular members particularly enjoy each other’s company. Some of us think it is romantic, the general public think it is strictly friendship: WHATEVER! Can AMI please please please acknowledge all harmless forms of expression? Joonie came out with one of the best albums out there, by himself, and JK & JM went on various trips and adventures together, which they wanted to share with us, AS SIMPLE AS THAT.

Liking Are you Sure?! doesn't make you a shipper, liking Are you Sure?! doesn't make you less OT7, however, liking Are You Sure?! will make you a person who is accepting of whatever harmless forms of entertainment that are being gifted to you by people whom you supposedly care about, and that very obviously means a lot to them, SO AMI NEEDS TO STOP TRYING TO TWEAK IT, BECAUSE THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH IT IN ANY WAY.

Yes I am a bitch, Yes I am petty, and Yes I am also OT7 AMI, an OT7 AMI who thinks two gentlemen in the band may fancy each other, but that is about it. I don’t go around forcing people to believe my perceptions, I don’t go brain-showing people into believing that these two individuals are married and I am very aware that they may just be straight men whom were never even curious. 

Remember my grammar pet-peeve? The one where I explained that Some people isn't the same as All people? Well, the same goes for Are You Sure?! Isn’t the same as A show like Are You Sure?! Like this person commented:

TRANS: A travel show. Something like Are You Sure? With Hobi 💜💜💜💜

This type of suggestion is totally fine. This ☝🏾, implies that the person understands that this particular show is something that two other members did, but it would be nice if two other members would make their own show with similar premises. So NO, Are You Sure Season 2?! Shouldn’t be a show with two other members and NO JK & JM don’t need to invite all the members if they don’t want to. And once again, for the love of everything that is demure,

it doesn't mean that they hate the members.

Okay? Okay.

Ayte, I’ve said all I wanted to say, now it's time for some comfort food & drinks.

またね！💋

Marengo.

[ducktoo]

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

11. Gym-selle life

Note: Enjoy the fluff!

It was a rare, calm afternoon at SM’s gym, and Y/n found himself with some unexpected free time. After that incident, he decided that his small frame wasn't cut it for this line of work. So, he started hitting the gym.

And it was always best to do a workout on a free day.

No schedules, no urgent texts from the group, and no chaotic last-minute changes—just peace. But peace didn’t seem to last long, not with Giselle around.

“Hey, boss baby,” Giselle’s voice rang out as she walked into the gym, a sly grin plastered on her face. She was dressed in her workout gear, hair tied up in a messy bun. “I heard you were looking for someone to train with.”

Y/n, who had been lazily scrolling through his phone while sitting on a bench, raised an eyebrow. “…Was I?”

“Well, you are now,” she declared, grabbing a mat and plopping it down next to him. “Come on, let’s do a workout together. I’ve got some steam to blow off, and you could use the exercise.”

Y/n snorted. “I do exercise, Aeri”

“You walk us from the van to the stage. That doesn’t count.”

“Hey, there’s a lot more to my job than that,” Y/n shot back, standing up to stretch. “Besides, I’m not that out of shape.”

Giselle crossed her arms and eyed him suspiciously. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure the last time you ran, you were dead after a flight of stairs.”

Y/n’s mouth opened, ready to argue, but he couldn’t exactly deny the truth. “Okay, fine. But that doesn’t mean I can’t keep up.”

“Prove it then,” she said with a challenging glint in her eyes. “Let’s do some cardio, weights, and maybe a bit of core. Think you can handle it?”

“Oh, don’t test me, Uchinaga” Y/n said, rolling up his sleeves and drove both of them to the gym.

-

The first few sets went as expected.

Y/n kept up with Giselle through the warm-up—jumping jacks, a bit of light jogging, and stretches. He felt confident. Too confident.

But as soon as Giselle cranked up the intensity with high-knees and burpees, Y/n quickly realised he might have bitten off more than he could chew.

“Fcking hell, you... do this... often?” Y/n panted, trying to catch his breath between sets. His legs were already feeling the burn, and they hadn’t even started with the weights yet.

Giselle, barely breaking a sweat, looked over at him with a smirk. “I’m fine, Y/n. You good?”

“Never better,” Y/n grunted, wiping the sweat from his brow and forcing himself to keep up. He wasn’t about to let Giselle think he couldn’t handle it.

The next part of the workout involved weights, and Y/n felt slightly more confident. He had done some weight training before—how hard could it be?

The answer: very.

Giselle lifted with ease, moving through reps with the kind of strength that made Y/n wonder if she had secretly been training for a boxing match. Meanwhile, he was struggling to maintain his form without collapsing under the weight.

“Come on, Y/n, you got this!” Giselle teased, watching him wobble as he tried to do a squat with a barbell. “You’re not gonna let me out-lift you, are you?”

Y/n gritted his teeth, determined to push through the pain. “Hell no.”

But by the time they got to the core workout—planks, sit-ups, and leg raises—Y/n was just about ready to tap out. He collapsed onto the mat, staring up at the ceiling as his abs screamed in protest.

Giselle, still full of energy, laughed and nudged him with her foot. “Tired already?”

“Damn…right I….am..,” Y/n wheezed, still flat on the ground. “Just... Gonna catch my breath.”

“Sure,” she chuckled, rolling her eyes. “Let’s cool down, then.”

-

After finishing up the workout, Giselle led Y/n through some stretches, and thankfully, they were much more manageable than the burpees. The two of them stretched in comfortable silence for a while, the intensity of the workout replaced by a relaxed atmosphere.

“I gotta admit,” Y/n said, still a bit breathless, “you’re in way better shape than I thought.”

“You expected me to be weak or something?” Giselle asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not at all,” Y/n replied quickly. “It’s just... I didn’t expect you to be that strong. I’m impressed.”

“Well, we do have to keep up with choreography and performances,” she pointed out, grinning. “Plus, I like staying fit. Makes me feel good.”

“I can see why,” Y/n mumbled, rubbing his sore arms. “You almost killed me out there.”

Giselle laughed. “You’re just out of practice. But don’t worry, I’ll whip you into shape in no time. You’re gonna be running laps around the rest of us soon.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow. “You sound like you’re planning to make this a regular thing.”

“Of course I am,” Giselle said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re officially my new workout buddy. So, no more slacking off.”

Y/n groaned but couldn’t help smiling. “Great. I’m doomed.”

Giselle just grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “You’ll thank me later.”

“Sureeeee” Y/n remained sceptical, but complied nonetheless.

-

After their workout, the two of them decided to reward themselves with a cheat meal. They headed to a nearby café, ordering some well-deserved food to replenish their energy.

As they dug into their sandwiches, Y/n leaned back in his chair, finally feeling the soreness in his muscles set in. “I’m not gonna be able to move tomorrow, am I?”

“Probably not,” Giselle replied nonchalantly. “But that’s how you know it’s working.”

Y/n rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help but smile. “You’re evil, you know that?”

“Hey, you agreed to this.”

“Regretting it already,” Y/n muttered, taking a bite of his sandwich. “But thanks, Aeri. I do need to train after that happened.”

"I should say thanks instead, Y/n" Giselle smiled. "You looked surprisingly cool back there."

"No it wasn't. But at least it drives me to hit the gym" He chowed down his well-deserved burger.

She waved him off. “No problem. It was fun.”

The two sat in comfortable silence for a while, the post-workout exhaustion settling in. It was moments like these—just relaxing and sharing a meal—that reminded Y/n how much he appreciated his job. Sure, it was chaotic and exhausting at times, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

As they finished their food, Giselle glanced over at him, a mischievous look in her eyes. “Same time next week?”

Y/n groaned, but the smile on his face gave him away. “Fine. But next time, I’m picking the workout.”

“Deal,” Giselle grinned, already looking forward to their next session.

-

A few months had passed since Y/n’s “death by burpees” workout with Giselle. He had committed to their regular gym sessions, despite his initial reluctance. Cardio, strength training, and core work had slowly started to pay off. His stamina improved, muscles grew, and even his posture became more confident. However, Y/n didn’t give much thought to his own progress. To him, it was just about keeping up with the girls and doing his job better.

But aespa had definitely noticed.

One afternoon, while Y/n was grabbing some water bottles for the group, Winter’s voice broke through the chatter.

“Wait—when did this happen?” she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion as she stared at Y/n.

“Happen? What?” Y/n responded, blinking in confusion.

“This!” Winter gestured dramatically towards him, like she was pointing out something obvious. “Idiot. You’re... like... buff now.”

Karina, who had been mid-stretch, stopped and glanced up. “Oh my God, she’s right.” She sat up straighter, her eyes scanning his form. “Wow, you’ve definitely been working out.”

Giselle, not one to miss a chance to brag, gave a smug grin from her spot by the mirrors. “Told you I’d get him in shape.”

Y/n shrugged awkwardly, not used to being the centre of attention. “It’s just a bit of working out,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “Nothing crazy. Just training to get stronger, you know?”

Winter stood up, her eyes scrutinising him with exaggerated intensity. “No, seriously. When did you get all... strong? What are you eating?”

Ningning, having missed the start of the conversation, wandered over. “What’s going on?”

“Y/n’s been hitting the gym,” Karina explained with a chuckle. “And apparently, he’s swole now.”

Ningning raised an eyebrow, walking up to Y/n and poking his arm experimentally. “Whoa. You’ve been hiding this under all those hoodies?”

Y/n groaned, quickly becoming flustered. “It’s just some muscle, nothing worth—”

“Nope, this is big news,” Ningning interrupted, laughing as she continued to poke him. “You’re all buff now, which means you’re finally ready for me to set you up with someone.”

Y/n blinked, taken aback. “…Dafug? You what now?”

Ningning grinned mischievously. “You know, now that you’ve had a glow-up, I can totally help you get a date. I know tons of cute girls. Heck, we can set you up with Seulgi-unnie for the lols.”

Karina and Giselle burst into laughter, clearly entertained by Ningning’s playful matchmaking attempt.

“Oh, this is going to be good,” Karina teased, sitting back to watch the chaos unfold. “Let’s see who she has in mind.”

Y/n felt his face heat up, shaking his head vigorously. “Ok, please don—”

“Come on,” Ningning pressed, clearly enjoying his embarrassment. “I’ve got connections. You won’t have to stay single forever.”

Before Y/n could protest further, Winter, who had been watching the entire exchange with an unreadable expression, suddenly spoke up.

“He doesn’t need your help, Ning,” Winter said, crossing her arms and stepping forward. “He’s fine as he is.”

Everyone turned to look at her, the room going silent for a moment. Winter’s tone was oddly defensive, and it wasn’t long before Karina and Giselle exchanged knowing glances, their lips curving into mischievous grins.

“Oh?” Karina said, eyes glinting with amusement. “Minjeong-ssi, are you... jealous?”

Winter’s eyes widened in alarm. “What? No! I’m just saying—he doesn’t need her to—”

“Yeah, sure,” Giselle cut in, smirking. “That sounded totally platonic.”

Winter’s face turned pink as she struggled to find the right words. “I-I didn’t mean it like that!”

Ningning, ever the troublemaker, immediately pounced on the opportunity. “Ooooh, I see what’s happening here,” she teased, her grin widening. “Minjeong-unnie doesn’t want anyone else setting Y/n up because *she* wants to do it herself.”

“Stop twisting my words!” Winter protested, her blush deepening as she glared at Ningning.

Y/n, caught in the middle of the teasing, could only stand there, his eyes wide as the girls ganged up on Winter.

“Ya, this isn’t—” he started to say, but his words were drowned out by the escalating laughter.

“You’re blushing,” Karina pointed out, clearly enjoying the show. “It’s cute.”

“I am not!” Winter huffed, her arms tightening across her chest defensively. “You’re all ridiculous.”

The teasing only got worse from there.

“Don’t worry, unnie,” Ningning said with a wink. “If you want Y/n to stay single, all you have to do is ask.”

“I don’t want that!” Winter groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Can we just move on?”

Giselle, still laughing, patted Winter on the back. “Hey, no need to be shy. It’s okay to admit you care.”

“Ugh, you guys are the worst,” Winter muttered, her voice muffled behind her hands.

Y/n, meanwhile, was doing his best to keep his own blush under control. He had never seen Winter get this flustered before, and while he didn’t want to make things more awkward for her, the situation was undeniably hilarious.

After a few more minutes of relentless teasing, Karina finally took pity on Winter and waved her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, let’s give her a break before she explodes.”

Winter peeked out from behind her hands, her face still red but visibly relieved. “Thank you.”

But Ningning wasn’t done just yet. “So, if Winter doesn’t want me to set Y/n up... does that mean she’s volunteering?”

“Okay, that’s it,” Winter groaned, grabbing a pillow from the nearby couch and tossing it at Ningning’s face. “We’re done talking about this!”

Laughter erupted once again as Ningning dodged the pillow, her grin as wide as ever. “Fine, fine! But just know, I’m always available for matchmaking if you change your mind, Y/n.”

Y/n let out a sigh, shaking his head with a chuckle. “I think I’ll pass.”

-

After the chaos of teasing finally died down and everyone had settled back into their routines, Y/n found himself replaying the conversation in his head.

He knew the girls liked to mess around, but the way Winter had reacted earlier... it left him with a strange, fluttery feeling in his chest. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. Was it just the usual banter, or was there something more behind her defensiveness?

As he helped pack up the practice room for the day, Winter approached him, her expression noticeably less flustered now that the teasing had subsided.

“Sorry about earlier,” she said quietly, glancing away. “They can be a bit... annoying sometimes.”

Y/n smiled softly. “Ehhh… I’m used to it by now. Got that every day.”

Winter nodded, her gaze still avoiding his. “I just didn’t want them making things weird for you. Ningning has a habit of taking things too far.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassured her. “Thanks for stepping in.”

She glanced up at him then, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Anytime.”

For a brief moment, the two stood there in comfortable silence, the noise of the others packing up in the background. And while neither of them said anything more, there was an unspoken understanding between them—one that Y/n couldn’t quite put into words but felt all the same.

As they left the practice room that evening, Y/n couldn’t help but wonder if things between him and Winter were changing.

Maybe. Just maybe.

And if they were? Well... he wasn’t entirely against it.

-

The next workout session was supposed to be business as usual—just Y/n and Giselle hitting the gym like they had been doing for months. It had become a routine, something Y/n had grown to not only accept but almost look forward to, despite the occasional grumbling when Giselle pushed him a bit too hard.

But today, something was different. Or someone was.

As Y/n and Giselle entered the company gym, stretching and preparing for another gruelling session, a familiar face strolled in behind them—Winter.

“Wait,” Y/n blinked, watching as Winter tossed her bag down by the mats. “Jeong, what are you doing here?”

Winter shrugged, acting nonchalant, though there was an unmistakable determination in her eyes. “What? Can’t I join you guys? I don’t always want to be the homebody, you know.”

Giselle smirked, clearly entertained. “You? Winter? At the gym? Voluntarily?”

Winter rolled her eyes but smiled, crossing her arms. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’ve worked out before.”

“Yeah,” Giselle teased, “but your ‘workout’ is walking to the kitchen for snacks.”

“She’s right, you know?” Y/n chuckled, stretching his arms behind his head. “I’ve never seen you step foot in the gym before.”

“Well,” Winter huffed, glancing between the two of them, “today’s a new day. I figured I should at least see what all the fuss is about since you two keep talking about it.”

Giselle raised an eyebrow, amused by Winter’s sudden enthusiasm. “Uh-huh. And this doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that everyone was teasing you about Y/n yesterday, right?”

Winter’s eyes widened, her face flushing as she shook her head. “No! It has nothing to do with that! I just... wanted to try it, okay?”

Y/n bit back a grin, not wanting to embarrass Winter any further. “Well, if you’re serious about joining us, uhhh welcome.”

“Great,” Winter said, a little too quickly, as she avoided eye contact. “Let’s do this.”

-

“Why do I feel like I’m dying?” Winter panted, clutching her side as she bent over, trying to catch her breath.

“That’s because you are.” Y/n deadpanned.

“Shut…up, Jung Y/n.”

Giselle, barely breaking a sweat, glanced down at Winter with a smirk. “Told you it wasn’t going to be easy. Welcome to gym life.”

Y/n tried to suppress his laugh as he wiped his forehead with a towel. Winter had gamely joined in on their usual warm-up routine, but it was clear she wasn’t used to this kind of intense exercise. While she might have been an idol, used to dancing and rehearsing for hours, the focused, relentless pace of their workout had caught her off guard.

Winter shot him a look, narrowing her eyes. “You think this is funny?”

Y/n raised his hands in mock surrender, still smiling. “Damn right, it is.”

“You’re such a piece of bull,” she muttered, straightening up and stretching her arms over her head. “I thought I was in good shape... but this is torture.”

Giselle grinned, tapping her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. Besides, it’s good to switch things up every now and then.”

Winter groaned but nodded. “I guess.”

Y/n couldn’t help but admire her determination. Despite her complaints, she hadn’t given up, and in a way, it reminded him of his own early days at the gym—awkward, out of breath, but still pushing through.

“Alright, let’s get back to it,” Giselle said, clapping her hands together. “Next up, we’ve got some core work. You ready, Winter?”

Winter hesitated, glancing at Y/n. “Do I have a choice?”

“Nope,” Y/n said with a grin, grabbing his water bottle. “You’re stuck with us now.”

-

After a gruelling session that left even Y/n feeling the burn, the three of them finally headed back to the dorm. Winter had survived—barely—and while she complained the entire walk back, Y/n could tell she was secretly proud of herself for sticking it out.

As they reached the dorm entrance, Winter paused, stretching her arms again. “I’m never doing that again.”

“Oh, come on,” Giselle teased, unlocking the door. “You loved it.”

Winter shot her a glare. “My body says otherwise.”

As they stepped inside, they were greeted by Karina and Ningning lounging on the couch, looking far too comfortable for Y/n’s liking.

Ningning was the first to notice their return, her eyes lighting up with mischief as she sat up. “Well, well, well. Look who’s finally joining the fitness squad.”

Karina raised an eyebrow. “Minjeong, you? At the gym?”

Winter groaned, flopping onto the couch beside her. “Yes, and I regret every second of it.”

Giselle snickered, tossing her bag aside. “She did pretty well, considering she’s not used to it.”

“Used to what?” Ningning asked, looking between them.

“Working out with us,” Y/n explained, grabbing a seat in the nearby armchair. “Minjeong joined our gym session today.”

Karina blinked in surprise, then smirked. “And lived to tell the tale?”

“Barely,” Winter muttered, slumping against the cushions. “I don’t know how you guys do that every week.”

Ningning’s eyes lit up again, clearly not about to let this opportunity pass. “You’re just trying to keep up with Y/n, aren’t you?”

Winter immediately sat up, glaring at Ningning. “No! I just... wanted to try something different.”

Ningning’s grin only widened. “Suuuure. You weren’t worried about someone else setting him up with a date or anything, right?”

Winter’s face turned red as she scrambled for a response, but before she could defend herself, Karina and Giselle burst out laughing, joining in on the teasing.

“Not this again,” Winter groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”

“Nope,” Ningning said cheerfully, patting her on the back. “But hey, at least you survived the workout.”

Y/n, watching the chaos unfold, couldn’t help but smile. It was good to see Winter come out of her comfort zone, even if it was for something as simple as a workout. And despite all the teasing, there was a warmth to the way the girls interacted—an unspoken understanding that they were all in this together, through thick and thin.

As the laughter died down and everyone settled into their usual spots, Y/n found himself glancing over at Winter. She caught his eye for a brief moment, and though her cheeks were still pink from the teasing, she offered him a small smile.

Maybe she wouldn’t become a gym regular like Giselle, but the fact that she had joined them—even if just for a day—was enough.

“Next time,” Y/n said, raising his water bottle, “I’ll go easy on you.”

Winter groaned again but smiled. “You better.”

“Actually. Nah. It’s funnier seeing you suffer.”

“YA-“

[lilacxquartz]

uncanny valley;

summary: being a travelling merchant, you often sold all sorts of oddities to willing collectors, however, something was surely off about this client in particular.

a/n: for that one ask that requested something darker & lore accurate. reader insert but mostly to explore their character, this is not x reader. • masterlist, ao3

themes: lore accurate kenjaku, torture using gravity CT, disturbing themes, violence, hurt/no comfort, unending yapping, gender neutral reader • w.c: ~3k

Travelling across the world to both curate and sell strange artefacts had become something akin to second nature for you. At often times, these things were tied to jujutsu—so you’d part with varying sorts of cursed objects, scrolls and trinkets that felt as though they were imbued with an unseen energy.

At least to you, given that you were not a sorcerer.

Collectors were usually a mixed bag of people; sometimes it would be private hobbyists or institutions seeking to expand their wealth of knowledge available—but nothing could have prepared you for an interaction with one collector in particular—oh no, no, no, they were different.

You would often zone out as they spoke too, simply because it was partially nonsensical but also because it would be long and unwinding. Such words that were otherwise spoken with velvety smoothness only to offer very little explanation or even comfort beyond their chilling tone left you feeling nothing short of wary.

And yet, it wasn’t as though you had the option to just walk away either with something unseen that willed you into listening—that compelled you into staying against your own innate fear. It was as though when they spoke, your gut instinct anchored like an unseen weight, binding you to the ground.

“You know, you claim you still can’t see them,” the man spoke, their words oozing from their lips like molten honey; slick like velvet yet stagnating with unsettling stiffness.

You cleared your throat. “Pardon?”

“The entities that are invisible to the naked eye for the majority of humanity,” they clarified, but only just. “You claim to only be slightly put off the trinkets you curate and sell, likely due to the unseen cursed energy, but what if I told you that you could see those things too?”

Once again, you were lost. Something told you that this person must have been a trickster of some sort; a devil disguised as a human being. They were certainly charming enough and the mockery that laced every word that rolled off of their tongue was surely telling too. For that reason, your gut instinct screamed at you to not trust a single word that this individual spoke.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” you carefully replied as to neither dispel your curiosity nor their claim without giving into it.

The man stayed silent for a moment while allowing a slow, creeping smile to stretch onto their face, creasing the almost perfectly marbled skin they wore. No, this being couldn’t have possibly been alive, at least not in the same way as you. Jujutsu was still a foreign subject on your ears and there was a whole lot that you still didn’t know, but you could at least recognise this entity as being far from human. Perhaps at one point they were, but the way they acted felt almost rehearsed, as if they didn’t quite belong in the body they lived in. There was something rather telling about that deep blank stare and the eyes that looked right back at you; void black dots that were unyielding like space itself—except unlike the vast stretch of eternal darkness adorned by the glitter of stars—there was instead nothing that could be reflected in their gaze.

Just pitch black vastness.

Humans—regular humans, non-sorcerers—did have a term for something like this; a feeling that someone or something was out of place. What was the name for it again? The unease that you felt when looking back at this entity was not unjustified nor was it a reach, but rather perfectly well appointed. You were feeling that currently, you were pretty sure, because you weren’t being looked at by this thing—you were being analysed—maybe even dissected.

“Technically speaking,” the man continued, leaning in ever so slightly so that their long black hair swayed forward, “all of humanity, sorcerers or not, regardless of origin, are able to see these manifestations that the Jujutsu community is gate keeping the existence of,” they added, snapping their fingers to hold your attention. “Ever had a nightmare that left you feeling off in the waking world? Or have you ever felt… watched in your bedroom late at night? Perhaps it’s something that you have convinced yourself over the last couple of years in your time as an adult that being afraid of the dark is childish, so you pretend that the threat isn’t real nor there. But why is it otherwise that humans had long feared the dark and all of those things that go bump in the night?”

“Well you can’t see in the dark,” you muttered out, trying to follow their line of thinking, “so it’s a fear of the unknown, isn’t it?”

They hummed, seemingly satisfied with the direction of where your train of thought was headed. “Correct. Now, it’s mostly children who have these retained fears. A fun little fact is that children under the age of ten, gifted or not, have been speculated to be ten times more likely to see cursed spirits than in adulthood, so let me ask you this: why is it that children are more likely to see them than their adult counterparts?”

You shrugged that time. “A more active imagination?”

They half scoffed, shaking their head. What a boring answer you just gave, they thought. You were being purposefully vague and withholding the true extent of your answers just because you didn’t want to entertain them due to a lack of trust. While this might have all been fair enough, it was surely concerning to them that this was the norm; people simply didn’t thirst for knowledge nor practical answers anymore. How bleak your life must truly be for you to purposefully shelter yourself from their fleeting tidbits of acquired wisdom that made life better worthy of living and dare they even say, exciting.

Was your sense of self preservation truly that important?

Was your life truly that worth living if that was all you had to say for yourself?

They sighed, wanting to lead the lesson in a particular direction instead. Your insolence for ignorance will be punished all in due time, regardless. “Because of a lot of things,” they continued once again, “but for the most part, it’s due to their lacking rationality.”

“Yeah?” you replied, feeding right into their trap. “Because they’re naïve?”

The entity nodded as they plucked a trinket from your stall, their voice adopting a more casual tone, “Correct. By having less control in their emotions and less understanding of the world around them, they’re more freely exposed to the chaos otherwise left unchained by the cursed realm. Which leads me to my next big question; where is a place that exists in the adult mind to let go of such sensibility and let our thoughts run free?”

Admittedly, this was fun in a way. You couldn’t help but want to solve the riddle they kept tempting you with. Perhaps you could technically dip into the depths of hell and indulge in something not too terribly condemning, after all, just far enough to get your answer.

“A dream?” you answered, thinking back to the mention of a nightmare from earlier before.

Suddenly the man erupted with almost excited glee, settling the object back into the stall as though reaching some sort of breakthrough with you, “So you were listening!” they genuinely praised, their voice becoming playful. “Very good, very good indeed. Dreams are where our souls roam free, succumbing to the chaos of irrationality and lacking structure alike. When you go to sleep, you’re entering the space between dreams and reality, potentially opening your mind up to the cursed realm and I'll bet you that any sort of oddity that you’ve ever come across while asleep, be it in an oddly realistic dream or nightmare, that you’ve witnessed it first hand yourself.”

“And you’re saying that dreams are a gateway to seeing those creepy things, or…?” you asked, trying to keep up yet again.

“Something of the sort, yes,” the man replied as they widened their creepy smile, ���now, think clearly for me, will you?” they requested, snapping their fingers yet again as though to hold your focus lest you drifted away. “As an adult, just as you are now, when is a time that you can catch a glimpse into something unseen that lacks that same sort of rationality? You’re not a kid anymore, so you’re very likely at least a little jaded to the world, either through the hardships of life or due to possible trauma that has sculpted your reality... If one isn’t dreaming, then what option does that leave a non-sorcerer to be able to see cursed spirits?”

In a way however, you hated this guy for churning your mind and making you think such odd things.

…Something that existed between irrationality and the dream world?

Your head went to all sorts of places, but it seemed to all be herded towards one point in particular, leaving you suddenly uneasy with where this was all going as it all finally clicked.

With a lower voice that was just above a whisper, you entertained the question once more but with less confidence this time, “…a hallucination?”

“Very good! How clever you are,” the man replied although their voice seemed to now carry a particular coldness to it. “Let’s consider the fact that in order for a hallucination to bleed into the waking world, there have to be certain conditions applied to their psyche that are strong enough to both bend and warp their reality. This can be accomplished through a sudden trauma response such as psychosis or when facing something extreme. For example, for you, I’m going to give you a demonstration of something far simpler than driving you to insanity just yet, because you see, there’s a point in everyone’s lives that people all get to experience a great emotional stir—a moment that invites vulnerability to awaken, where hope no longer exists—such a slip of weakness right before the embrace of—“

“—death?” you finished up their sentence, interrupting their spiel.

“What a good student you are,” they praised once more, “such an academically gifted mind is surely worthy of a demonstration, don’t you think?”

Your mind blanked upon those words, opening itself up to both doubt and negativity just as they had planned for you to do so. So suddenly were you caught in between all of the readily thrown implications that they had otherwise casually implied.

You didn’t want any hand in any sort of offered demonstrations and yet you already knew that you very likely didn’t have a choice.

Without warning, you felt as though your own two feet fused themselves into the ground yet again but it wasn’t a fear response this time around. It was a slow pull that followed, but you gradually could feel as the air left your lungs by a squeezing unseen force. From a glance up, you could tell that this was their doing and that they were taking their good sweet time in doing so.

“Now, I must warn you…” the man threatened without as much breaking a sweat; their expression unwavering with nonchalance with their tone returning to something jovial, “my demonstration is likely to leave you… breathless, for a lack of better words.”

Unable to protest against the warning, you could only endure as the shifting weight of the air around you locked tight against your chest. The air, thick with something dry yet salivating at the same time scratched at your throat as the simple act of breathing quickly turned into an impossible task. It was as though the oxygen that was otherwise plentiful around you had turned solid and thereby became inaccessible.

Following another attempt, you desperately attempted to inhale only to be met with a pause. The air quite literally refused to enter your respiratory tract and your chest was left unable to expand with a breath no matter how hard you tried.

Panic was secondary upon the realisation that manifested in your system. You tried again and again to gasp, finding that it was all pointless—aimless even, since try as you might—the air remained static and unmoving.

But then a small fleeting sliver of hope slid through your system, whether it was accidental or on purpose, a slight teasing gust of air was granted back into your lungs. Such an act left you with very little comfort however as the world was already blurring all around you; dampening your barely contained light.

All that you could otherwise hear was your heartbeat that hammered loudly in your chest; reverberating like a stray bullet in a metal barrel, darting around in a deafening crescendo. Your chest then tightened once more, forcing your movements to feel sluggish, as though wading through condensed waters.

Yet, surely desperate as you were and refusing to meet your end just yet, you held on out of spite and then finally, you saw it.

Movement that wasn’t from the man alone.

Your vision still blurred, but just out of the corner of your eye, something sinister had since then materialised. Something that scurried off into the clinging shadows of the vicinity in the dead of your blurring eyes. Twisting forms of something grotesque that stared right back at you with skittish eyes.

So these were… cursed spirits?

You understood at long last and so perfectly well too. In a hurry to break away however, you backed up against your flimsy stall, not quite caring about the fragile trinkets that despite looking so dull clattered against the soft ground like clashing steel.

Swallowing hard, you felt your sense of rationality slip away as you caught sight of something malevolent and uninvited but then, as if suddenly, it all stopped. The burning in your lungs had subsided and clarity within your vision had been regained.

Looking up, you could see that their hand was no longer raised, although you were regarded with a curious, unblinking stare.

“W-what was… w-why did you…?” you couldn’t help but blabber as you tried to make sense of everything.

“Why?” they asked in the same tone of voice you cried out in as if to taunt you. “No reason, I just found you both… simultaneously boring yet curious, I suppose. Sorcerers offer their fun at times, but just regular old folk like you are worth the trouble too. It’s fascinating though, don’t you think? You have so little idea of the world around you and even with the amount of knowledge I keep repeatedly providing to you—you still insist on attempting to stay deliberately… ignorant.”

“K-keep on…?” you replied, simply repeating their words at this point. “I keep—what?”

“…Or are you finally getting it?” the man enquired, tilting their head to the side as they looked at you. “You know, I have been… studying you for this whole interaction, even way before you manifested yourself into being a merchant. Interesting choice by the way. I find it especially peculiar how you, someone otherwise unfamiliar with Jujutsu, were able to not trust me or what lies within me. Very observant, indeed. Last time this silly game of ours happened, you were much more lenient with my company, but I suppose you have learned since then.”

You stammered out another response yet again, “Manifested myself…?”

They hummed, seeming almost amused. “That’s right, manifested. But before that, do let me finish, why don’t you? I was going to say that your accusatory self wouldn’t have made it far, had you been a sorcerer with a mind like that. Could you believe it that the modern sorcerers of today aren’t paid to be so questioning and sceptical? They simply exist to do as they’re told and expel the endless negativity that is otherwise forged through the burden of humanity. It’ll never end, mind you, not as long as we as a species continue to exist.”

“So you’re… what? Against humanity or…?” you croaked out.

They shook their head with a refuting motion, “No, I’m for humanity, believe it or not. I want to see it prosper, grow and maybe even evolve. That’s why I have my interest in people like you, because why should the fun be limited towards curse users alone?”

“And you’re…” you tried to piece it all together, but couldn’t quite do it as nothing made sense anymore, “you’re… doing what exactly with me?”

“Or haven’t you realised it yet?” they questioned you, their smile faltering to a disappointed frown. “You have been flicking your eyes around the space from the moment we began the conversation, but you surely must have felt it from the very beginning, no? That this was no ordinary exchange and that your undoing had been predetermined from the start. Nothing is real; everything you see before you is fabricated and carefully orchestrated as a response from your own mind. I’m just playing along with it. You’re being distrusting because you don’t believe the faint glimmer of hope that I’m offering you because we had already been acquainted before. But worry not, the end is much closer than you think.”

You paled. “I’m dying…?”

“Maybe,” they replied almost playfully, not quite offering you a solid answer, “or maybe not. I’d prefer you didn’t let go until I’m done with you, but then again… you’re also no use to me if your brain has turned to mush.”

Not bothering with another reply, you tried to make sense of this whole thing by yourself instead. It was surely jarring as you made the realisation though, the hallucination left your immediate vision and revealed that you were instead in some sort of dingy, dank room instead.

A basement, perhaps?

Your eyes crept down, noticing that you were tied down to some sort of patient chair, like the type you would see at a dentist’s; your ankles and wrists strapped into looping holes that were drilled to the edges. Assorted bloodied instruments lay both on the tiled floor and on metal trays with strewn teeth and pried out fingernails collected in little glass jars.

Come to think of it, your hands felt surely raw and your mouth festered with the taste of trickling copper.

The man before you hovered nearby, holding onto a scalpel in one hand and a marker in the other.

With an almost excited tone, their voice now promised something chilling, “Now let’s see just how far these visions go if you were to be skinned alive.”

Blanking, you panicked and refused.

Which was how you now found yourself plunged somewhere new, playing the role of an adventurer roaming around an unreal world.

(And who truly knew what your next encounter could bring?)

[whiteraven90]

hello, I hope you're having a good day <33 I saw your recent post on my dash and I was STUNNED at the animated scene! It's insane to me I get to see your characters animated. Feeling blessed to be alive to see it, I am not exaggerating. You know, one of these times where you wake up and things are a little bumpy in your life but there's one thing that shines brightly you didn't know it could give you so much excitement? Yeah, that kind of thing ((:

I took my time for the past hour to reminisce over your blog again. It is one of the places I really love scrolling through and reading your writing. I had a question, if you don't mind me. The way you have improved is truly admirable. I know this might not be an easy ask to say "hey, how did you learn how to paint", so I'll ask this instead: I don't know how long you've been working full-time in art, but when do you make time for studies / drawing for fun? If it's not too much to respond to, how do *you* study? I remembered your posts with your redlines and wanted to ask how do you go about those, or if you switch your routines based on your needs (sketches vs speed painting backgrounds etc). The notes there were very interesting, seeing the mental exercise.

Pretty sure you have a fKTON of stuff on your plate, so please don't feel obligated to respond quickly or even at all. Thank you in advance for taking the time to read my message and for all the time you take to respond in general. Love reading your responses <3

Take care, ok? <3

I'm glad the animation made you feel better! I'll put the answer under the Keep Reading thingy.

I'm not entirely sure... I think I don't study as much as I should/could. I mostly learn as I go. Standalone studies are helpful, I'm just drawn to doing things that are more fun/satisfying to me or things that actively progress my creative goals. Imperfect illustrations for my stories, and incomplete research for worldbuilding! Many people learn faster than I, and those people do a lot more studies than I, but I have no info on whether they have more fun than I. Dopamine is rocket fuel, so it's important. :)

I'm always on the lookout for reference pictures, but I study almost only when I have a practical goal in mind, I guess. Studying is part of my job too, I think? As an indie concept artist I'm supposed to build a hoard of references and pull several new/sensible things out of them, and I think part of this process is understanding the material, and revisiting even what I already know. Illustration is similar. If I'm commissioned to draw an anthro alligator, it's time to study gators. It's not separate from work.

I mean, straightforward version: I wake up at 03:30, make coffee, and start working for myself until the paying work starts, lol. Brain is fresh before noon, and tired late in the evening just like everyone else's. It also helps that the city more or less shuts up at 4am.

The studies with the redlines... I do them when I fancy drawing characters or creatures but feel out of shape. I can get discouraged, feel like I forgot how to draw. I sketch if I plan to sketch, and paint if I plan to paint or want to study colors Drawing live models helps. Studying videos of people and things in motion. Hopping down rabbit holes about how/why things work (e.g. flintlock, Davy lamp, mansard roof). Drawing from refs. Hoarding refs. Trying different mediums (e.g. charcoal, 3D, etching). Small screenshot of one of my ref boards for the animation; I'd say I studied it a lot. How clothes move, what are good clothes, how do good clothes move, lion/tiger + human + eagle anatomy (from specific angles during specific motions if/when possible), how to dive roll, proper sprinting form, how to survive falling from a great height, spearfighting, pole vaulting, poledancing, lighting, colors, environment, kicked-up sand in motion, spear types, emu/cassowary/griffon vulture feet, etc. I didn't draw studies, unless you count the animation itself (I would).

[wish-i-were-heather]

This is a long post but not a vent its the opposite of a vent ykwim like a long happy rant

I love you all so much.

Maybe I’m just all dramatic and emotional because I’m on my period, maybe because I’m writing this late at night and I’m gonna think it’s really cringe in the morning, but I love you guys so much. Tumblr has brought me so much joy. I’ve been here for maybe three or four months now? And I can’t really think of a time in my life where I was happier. 

I first made an account after scrolling aimlessly. I would go onto the tumblr website and it would let me search a bit until it was like “you need to make an account to keep going!!” And then I’d just close it and move on. But then one day I decided  hey what the heck just do it. So I made an account, and I didn’t really know what I was doing. I came up with this username because I liked conan gray, I gave myself  a daphne blake profile picture because she has red hair, and just kinda explored. 

I looked through tags of fandoms I love like the inheritance games and pjo and shatter me and even scythe (which was when i was then brought to the realization that the aoas fandom really is dead everywhere even here😔). But I just kinda explored.

Then I found all you guys, the cute aesthetic tumblrinas! And omg I thought everyone was so cool. Pretty much everyone I’m mutuals with now is someone who i found their blog and was like OMG I WANNA BE ONE OF THEM!! I loved the friendships and the connection and just seeing everyone interact made me so happy. I think one of the first people to follow me back was Belle and I remember I legit freaked out because omg!! Shes so cool!! 

Now that I’m telling the story it’s a little embarrassing, but it’s fine. I just know I was slowly growing my blog and meeting new people but I still didn’t feel like I had real friends, it hadn’t been that long. But I think it all kinda happened after I accidentally deleted my account, and I sent panic asks to everyone. And you guys were so nice and so sweet and for a lot of people it was some of the first interactions we had. 

I have the world’s worst memory, but it just kinda took off from there. 

And now I am friends with all you guys!! I’m so incredibly glad I decided to make this blog that day because omg. I’d seen people talk about online friends but I’d never had any. But now?? OMGG I UNDERSTAND!!! I finally have people who are just as obsessed with the books/tv/movies/music/everything that I am!! 

My friends IRL are nice, they’ve read the books I read, but I cant talk to them the way I do you guys, yknow? Tumblr is literally just such a safe space for me. I have a bad day, come online, and my mood is lifted. It makes me so happy and it also makes me feel so validated for whatever weird interests or feelings I have! I have a weird thought? Post it to tumblr! It’s just so amazing, how there’s people all over the world who care about me even a little, even just enough to like my shitposts. 

I’ve even infiltrated both the shatter me and tig roleplays, and I’ve really just done everything I could’ve hoped for when I joined tumblr. I used to be the one watching everyone interact, and now I am the one interacting! I don't think you guys understand how much you all mean to me. Especially as someone with bad social anxiety, who struggles with making friends irl. I also don’t believe in popularity in schools, thats stupid, but technically i’m not a “popular kid.” So I have friends, but not a billion. But here? Everyone is friends on tumblr!! It’s so amazing. I love you all so much. 

That’s long and honestly pretty sappy, also yall probably don't care about my whole tumblr history and how i got here (plus no one asked), but I felt like i wanted to share. There’s so much more I wanna say, but surprisingly enough as a writer, I’m not always the best at expressing my feelings over writing. My love language is physical touch, not words of affirmation. Which suckss cause i cant give you guys that. But this is as good as i can get. 

So thank you to everyone, my mutuals and followers and whatever. Thank you for being so loving. Thank you for being stupid with me. Thank you for listening to me rant about nonsense. Thank you for liking my posts. thank you for being here. Thank you for making me feel safe.

Cause every time I get a notification, I smile. It’s hard not to, when I know everyone is so amazing. I hope you think of me when you listen to heather, because I always think of you when i listen to online love. Anyway, I love you all. I hope we meet one day. Actually, scratch that. We will  meet one day. That is a threat :)

LOVE YOU ALL MUAH MUAH MUAH IM BREAKING INTO YOUR HOUSE RIGHT NOW BTW WERE GONNA WATCH HALLOWEEN MOVIES AND HAVE HOT CHOCOLATE AND GO TO THE PUMPKIN PATCH AND DO A BIG GROUP COSTUME AND GO TRICK OR TREATING TOGETHER GET READY 😋😋

[shitsndgiggs]

You know the one about Jobe being the insecure one in the relationship bc of Jude but how about the reader being the one insecure because Jobe is starting to really blow up and has so many girls in his dm's alllll the time but he ofc does everything to reasure you xx

FOR ME, ITS YOU - JOBE BELLINGHAM

… idk

Jobe Bellingham x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

I was scrolling through my phone, aimlessly flipping between apps, but my mind was far from the glowing screen. Ever since Jobe’s football career had started to take off, things had changed.

He was blowing up—his name in headlines, interviews, more fans, and… DMs. Tons of them.

And not just any DMs. Beautiful girls, influencers, models—women I could only dream of looking like.

They flooded his notifications, and it gnawed at me. I tried to push the thoughts away, but they kept creeping in.

What if he realized he could do better?

Jobe was sitting across the room, scrolling through his phone, oblivious to the knot of insecurity that had been tightening in my chest.

Every time I glanced at him, my thoughts spiraled. What if he was talking to one of them? What if they were funnier or more interesting? What if he started to lose interest in me?

Before I could stop myself, the words slipped out. “You’ve been getting a lot of attention lately.”

Jobe looked up from his phone, a puzzled look on his face. “What do you mean?”

I shrugged, trying to keep my tone light, but failing miserably. “You know... all the DMs, comments, the girls. I see them, Jobe. They're all so—" I paused, unsure how to even finish the sentence, “...gorgeous.”

His expression softened immediately. “Wait, is that what’s been bothering you?”

I avoided his gaze, suddenly feeling silly for even bringing it up. But it was eating me up inside, and I couldn’t pretend anymore. “I just… sometimes I wonder if you’ll realize you could be with someone like them. Someone who’s... better.”

Jobe set his phone down and crossed the room, sitting beside me on the couch. He gently took my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “You really think I’d want to be with anyone else?”

I shrugged, still staring at the floor. “I mean, look at them. They’re flawless, and they seem so perfect for you. You’re blowing up right now, Jobe, and I can’t help but feel like... maybe I’m not enough.”

He turned toward me, his hand cupping my chin and lifting my face so our eyes met. “I don’t care about any of that,” he said softly but firmly. “You’re the one I want. Not them. You.”

I tried to smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “But they’re so—”

“Stop,” Jobe interrupted, his voice full of sincerity. “Yeah, maybe they’re models or influencers, but I don’t care about any of that. You think I care about some random girl sliding into my DMs when I’ve got you?”

I looked at him, my heart aching with uncertainty. “But why me? You could have anyone, Jobe.”

He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “Why you? Because you’re the one who’s been with me from the start. You’re the one who knows me better than anyone. You’re the one who makes me laugh, who supports me, who’s real with me. None of those girls know me like you do. They don’t mean anything compared to you.”

I blinked back tears, trying to believe him, but my insecurities still lingered. “But what if—”

“No,” he said firmly, leaning in closer, his voice gentle but unwavering. “I don’t want them. I want you. You’re more than enough. You’re everything I need, everything I want.”

He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, his eyes full of warmth. “I love how you’re always there for me. I love how you know all my quirks and still put up with me. I love how you make me feel grounded when everything else is crazy. That’s what matters to me, not a bunch of likes or DMs from people who don’t even know who I am.”

I finally let out a small laugh, feeling the tension in my chest start to loosen. “You’re really not interested in them?”

Jobe smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Not even a little bit. Besides, they don’t have anything on you.”

I rolled my eyes, but a genuine smile tugged at my lips. “You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m serious,” he said, pulling me into a tight hug. “You’re beautiful, and you’re everything I could ask for. I’m lucky to have you. Don’t ever doubt that.”

As I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, his words finally started to sink in. Maybe I didn’t need to compare myself to all those other girls. Jobe chose me. And for now, that was enough.

“I love you,” I whispered, my voice soft.

He kissed the top of my head and smiled against my hair. “I love you too, and nothing’s going to change that.”

[winkuzz]

Wren x Reese Fic Drabble

Here's a little short fic drabble I started writing when I was on a 3 hour train ride back home from a con, based on an idea I've had for the two a while ago and these outfits I designed for Wren and Reese

I will eventually put this on ao3 but I have to wait for my invitation lol

Based on my Wreese Roadtrip AU - a wholesome 'best ending for everyone' scenario I like to fantasize about, meaning that the events of Scarlet Hollow are in the past and everyone of the main cast survived / is doing good and Wren and Reese explore both the world and themselves on a roadtrip, living basically as nomads.

Fic begins under the cut

Content Warnings: Suggestive Language/Mention, OC x Canon Ship, Abuse Mention Disclaimer: - Wren is trans/nonbinary and uses both they/them and he/him pronouns - Mention of “Magical Girl Kaneeka” because I like that theory

---------

The door falls shut behind the pair that just left the building. Exchanging a quiet glance with each other they make their way back to an antique looking van which is situated on the other side of the parking lot. The vehicle’s obvious age alone is enough to draw attention, but what makes it stand out even more is the fact that it’s covered in gruesome, macabre paintings depicting mostly teeth, claws, organs and torn skin. In fact, some passersby may even have considered it a relatively on-the-nose art piece belonging to the gallery which the couple just left. 

Wren, the blond shorter one of the pair, pulls out their set of keys and unlocks the vehicle manually, waiting for the familiar click of the little door guys jumping up. A happy sound. It means home, warmth and peace for the two of them. 

Both doors swing open and Wren climbs in to nestle down in their seat, yet their partner Reese - the taller one of the pair - hesitates, glancing at the gallery they left once more, then takes off the long coat he was wearing up until now. He takes a deep, contemplating breath before climbing in, situating first his previously hidden tail on the seat, then his long legs in the narrow space before pulling the door shut and dropping heavily against the backrest.

His gaze is fixated on the dashboard for a few moments, then moves to rest on Wren. A near unblinking, certainly unbroken stare. 

Wren already busies himself with picking out music to drive to, attaching his phone via cassette tape adapter to yet another antique part of the car. A tape player. Wren is tapping away on his phone’s screen and keeps swiping through songs. Unbothered for a while - that is until he feels the eyes gazing upon him, which compels them to do a double take towards their partner. For a moment they're unsure what to say or do. 

Wren and Reese have been dating for a while now and they've been traveling through the country, using their old, trusty van as both a method of transport and living space. They spend basically every day with each other, nearly 24/7. And yet this is a new expression on Reese’s face. One that Wren doesn't recognise.

It catches them a bit off guard as they shift in their seat, trying to play it off and stay cool by going back to scrolling and avoiding Reese's gaze. 

"What's up, babe?" 

Wren tries to sound unbothered.

Silence. 

Just the sound of Wren's nail tapping the screen in a hollow manner. 

They look up again. A bit more concerned. Reese is frowning. Not much, just a slight scowl. But it’s still a serious, deep expression which Wren again attempts to assign familiarity to, but fails to do so. 

Trying to lighten the mood they tilt their head just ever so slightly. Maybe playing coy would coax the words out if their partner? 

"Nothing." 

Reese finally breaks his silence and thus, brushes the tension off Wren's shoulders. 

"It's just-" There's a pause. And it stiffens the shoulders right back up. 

"You..." 

Wren's finger hovers over a song they could play just in time to feign overhearing what Reese would say next. The words seem to have a hard time leaving their boyfriend, so how good could they be to hear? 

Of course he would be upset. They had feared that the meeting they had just attended very much overstepped a hard boundary. And Reese's voice seems more nervous than usual. It's far from the normal soft, gentle, teasing or... Well, growling tones they've become so acquainted with. 

Though he doesn't sound angry. He just sounds... They wish they knew. This is a new Reese. And it makes them nervous. 

Their finger and the song are ready. They just gotta time it right. 

"You're amazing." 

... Wait.

 Wren furrows their brows at their phone, then looks up to meet Reese's eyes.

"... Huh?", is all they manage to squeeze out as a reply.

Reese looks just as surprised now.

"Do I … really have to explain that?”

Wren answers with a thoroughly befuddled stare at their partner. 

A voiceless chuckle escapes Reese before he continues.

"Well. Okay. Let's go through what just happened." 

He’s slouching deeper into his seat. His body turns towards Wren, his hands gesture along to his words as he speaks.

"So. You just dragged me to this gallery." 

"Mhm?"

"After suiting me up."

"Uh-huh?" 

"And making yourself look like some sort of... professional manager type."

"Yeah?"

"To pretend to be an 'expert of the arts'.”

"I am an expert of your art. In a way. I’ve been watching you draw and paint a lot after all. Plus, art appreciation is based on subjective tastes. And since everyone's a critic, I-

"All this after you called up someone you happened to know from this city, demanding in a favor to set up a meeting."

"Johnny is an old buddy of mine who moved here, and this time he couldn't wriggle out of paying me back, I kept promising him that the day would come when-"

"A meeting which led to the appointment we had today.”

A dramatic pause.

“With a gallerist." 

Reese takes a deep breath.

Wren suddenly is quiet. He slowly looks up, finally lowering the huge, rectangular shades he's been wearing since entering the gallery. Supposedly to make him look ‘professional and cold’. 

"Just to help me sell my art to a gallerist that appreciates my style. Which... Was a success by the way."

Reese looks at his partner with a sort of challenging disbelief. Like he wants to see them try to talk down their actions again when faced with the facts of today’s events.

"Well…”, Wren shifts in their seat, attempting to find a way to wiggle himself out of the chain of compliments. “Not quite a success yet, Reese. We didn't quite 'sell' any art yet, but they're going to display your pieces! Which helps get the eyes of potential buyers on your art. There's a difference.”

Reese arches a single brow.

"Is there?"

"Yes." 

Wren grimaces displeased. 

“One is a guarantee and I couldn't get you that guarantee. Only a vague promise, which is bullshit, to be honest.”

"Wren."

Reese sounds serious. Serious enough to draw Wren’s eyes upon their partner again. Reese sighs and then leans his shoulder deeper into the seat. Facing Wren fully, who subconsciously imitates the pose. Showing Reese he has their full attention as well.

Then Reese continues:

"I didn't want to do shit to get my art sold. Or even displayed. You know that I never really cared for that part, nor did I want to go out of my way to build any connections. It's because of your faith in me and the ties to people you happen to know that I just walked out of there being offered a deal. A deal to  potentially make money with my art, Wren."

Reese emphasizes the last sentence, stressing the meaningfulness of it.  

A pause lingers between the couple. 

Then Reese’s brows knit tighter. A growly huff escapes his throat as he turns towards the wind shield and continues:

"Besides, it’s not just that you got me that deal that makes you so amazing. It's because of you that I'm even here at all. Without you, I would still be stuck in that disgusting tiny basement.”

Reese growls at the mention of that room and the memories connected to it. A grimdark sound that makes the hairs on Wren’s arm stand.

"If you hadn’t been there, who knows what else she would’ve done to me? I don’t want to think about the stuff she had prepared ‘just in case’ I ‘went berserk’ or other bullshit like that. I probably would’ve just died someday. Not ever seeing anything else but this horrific little place that was assigned ‘safe’ for me to be around. 

To be quite honest, it’s not so out of the world to think that potentially one day she would’ve deemed me too big of a burden to deal with and–”

Wren reaches out to their boyfriend at that. Their palm gently touches the back of Reese’s hand, who first hesitates, his jaw tense and his eyes glaring at nothing in particular. 

But after a couple moments his face relaxes, his body loses its tension and he embraces the touch. Long fingers entangling with Wren’s, welcoming the warmth and softness of their palm.

His other hand reaches up and Reese wipes his face, resetting his thoughts. Resetting the mood. Calming down. 

“... fact is.”

Reese sighs, his body relaxing into the seat once more. His thumb gently brushes over the side of Wren’s hand, a repetitive and calming motion. 

“I have no idea what it is that compels you to do all these things for me. You knew me for a couple moments at most before you quite literally jumped in front of a gun for me. 

You broke me out of that basement and stuck out your neck to protect me. Based on what? A hunch you had about me?

Then you took me out and away from Scarlet Hollow on this road trip, spending time with me, letting me see the world? I would’ve never expected to see the sea, hear the waves! Or watch a meteor shower in the middle of the night!”

The previous bitterness in Reese’s voice gets replaced by excitement.

Wren appreciates watching their partner’s face slowly light up. They adore when he begins to ramble, and they’re happy to listen.

“I’ve seen so many places now. We’ve camped out in the middle of nature, stayed at really nice hotels and crappy ass motels. I’ve seen woods so different from those back in Scarlet Hollow, and never have I expected to ever see landscapes that have no mountains at all.

I’ve gotten to know sides of me that I had no idea existed before knowing you. Allowed myself to learn who I am and what things I can do with this weird body of mine.

It’s because you allow me to explore myself. You never demand anything from me, you’re not scared of me when I get emotional, you don’t hold your breath when I ramble and get riled up. It’s so liberating to just stretch out and be whatever I want to be, whenever.

I hunted, I fished, Stella taught me how to make soup from mushrooms and roots I can find in the forest. Oh, that one soup I made for you when you were really sick that one time? Do you remember that?”

Wren nods with the hint of a smile but doesn’t interrupt with an answer.

“I was so worried, it was the first time in my life I had to take care of someone else and wasn’t the one being fussed over. But it’s alright, I figured out a way to help you get better. And you said that it was really tasty, too!” 

The corners of Reese’s mouth twitch upwards.

“I even learned how to drive the van! And I took us to the place up on the cliff near that beach town, where we saw fireworks.”

“Oh yeah, we made out really hard after that. Isn’t that how we broke the wiggle-head zombie I had glued to the dashboard? I sorta miss him.”

“Wren. Don’t interrupt.”

“Hehe, sorry.”

“But now that you remind me, Rest in Pieces Zomb-Chomp.”

“Rest in Pieces indeed.That time he didn’t come back to life.”

The interior of the van turns silent again. This time it’s a more comfortable silence, the two of them lingering in the echo of more pleasant memories than before.

“My point is”, Reese eventually speaks up again, facing Wren with a gentle expression. “You have done so much for me. And I have no idea why. You had no reason to trust me. No reason to want me. I was but a nobody in a basement trapped in a tiny mining town. But ever since we left Scarlet Hollow and went on our trip out here… I feel like I’m starting to actually become somebody.

Despite whatever you saw back then in that clinic, you still chose me. You make me believe that whatever happens, you’ll always see me for me. That’s what I’m grateful for. 

You’re my pillar that I can always return to and lean on. And…"

Reese’s eyes meet Wren’s. And Wren recognizes this expression. It makes him melt already before their partner says the words.

“I love you, Wren.”

A moment passes.

“And I know these words can only sound hollow in comparison to your actions so far. But I promise to you that no matter what it is that you need, you can always come to me.

I want to be your pillar. Like you’ve been mine. And I can only aspire to be as much of a good influence in your life as you’ve been vice versa.”

Wren squeezes Reese’s hand with his in response. 

Then Wren reaches out and brushes his other hand’s palm against the side of their partner’s face, leading him down to their own so their lips could meet for a sweet kiss. It’s chaste and soft, and full of the sweet, gushy emotions they’re mutually feeling for each other. 

Once Wren pulls away they keep Reese close, affectionately combing some strands of the other’s brown hair out of his face and behind one of his pointy ears.

“I love you too, Reese. And aside from the fact that there is no ‘debt of actions’ between us, let me tell you that you obviously have no idea how much you’ve already done for me.”

The words take some time to settle between them as Reese slowly slides back to his seat and Wren shifts to finally place his phone away on the dashboard.

“But Wren”, Reese then begins after licking his bottom lip, a last taste of the sweet kiss just shared between them. “You surely agree that it’s crazy, right? How everything went down so far between us.”

“Oh, I am.If anyone is aware of how crazy all of this is, it’s me!” 

Wren laughs. 

“After all, I am dating a horror artist who can turn into a monster. Together we live in a van that my boyfriend painted with art that can come to life at his will. Sometimes he leaves to hunt in the woods, taking his Smears with him. And when he returns he always smells like moss and dry leaves and fresh air, and then the living art returns to the same spots right where it was before while we cuddle up inside the van and watch movies and listen to podcasts and music.

I’ve been living with this weird monster guy for months now, and all I ask of him is to thrive and be successful and do what makes him happy.

And it’s thanks to our magical friend that we now know how to make sure your art doesn’t just suddenly spring up to life. Which means finally you can make money with the thing you like doing the most, so… isn’t that awesome?”

“...”

“Don’t dare to make a joke now about ‘me’ being the thing you like doing the most, Reese.” 

Reese shrugs. “Don’t have to, you said it already.”

Wren pouts and huffs, while Reese looks at his partner with a rather smug expression. Then suddenly, they snort in unison, then chuckle and soon they are laughing. 

Still holding hands. 

Wren sighs, then slides his sunglasses back on.

“You’re a sappy mongrel, Reese Kelly.”

“And you’re a cold bastard, Wren Scarlet.”

“Good. Business as usual then. Now, should we head out of here? You mentioned you needed to pick up a couple new paints, right? I overheard you talking to the gallerist dude about painting something new.”

Reese nods. 

“Yeah. I’ll be busy making a few other pieces that suit the current theme displayed at the gallery. He said that it would draw more attention if I did something thematically fitting. But it’s still awesome that he’s going to display the pieces we brought. It’s crazy to think my art is going to be in a gallery now.”

“It’s what you deserve, babe. Your art is great.”

“Thank you, Wren.”

The two fasten their seatbelts, and now Reese is the person grabbing Wren’s phone to flip through songs to play. Wren turns the key in the ignition, listening to the familiar sputtering noises of the van coming to life.

“Got any ideas already? For the art I mean?” “Not really. But I’ll think about it once I’m done with you.”

Wren is in the middle of loosening the handbrake when he suddenly interrupts himself, then looks up at their boyfriend with a questioning blink.

“Uh… pardon me? I take it we’re not heading to the art store for some new paints then?”

“Oh no, we still can go and do that. But after that we go back to our place.”

‘Our Place.’ Not a house or a hotel. Just the spot they chose to park their van at for the time being. Far away from other people, outside the city. 

A song begins to play. 

Reese glances to Wren as the low bass and noisy guitars of their favorite HEALTH song begins to play. His expression is hungry. His teeth a little pointier than before, his jaw bigger. His eyes sharper.

Reese’s voice sounds deeper now as he speaks, and his breath is accompanied with the kind of growl that makes Wren’s skin crawl in all the good ways.

“I get that you don’t want to talk about ‘sappy shit’. It’s not your style. But don’t think you can escape my gratitude. I will show you how much I appreciate you the way you like it the most. And I won’t stop until I’m done with you. Got it?”

Wren is still frozen in their movements. Staring at their partner with big eyes and a flush on their cheeks. They sputter the same way the engine did before, then push the shades back up on their nose, sitting up stiffly. Trying to suppress the smile that wants to erupt on their face. 

They loosen the handbrake finally, push down the clutch and change into first gear. 

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Focus on the road first. Challenge me later.”

Wren fails at holding back the smile any longer and the van heads out of the parking lot.

“Oh, I will.”

---------

[dr-spectre]

while i originally didn't think much about s2's story

after seeing your posts about hypno callie i am 100% with ya

fact that it gets misinterpreted so much is agh. painful

Im glad that I was able to inspire you to change your mind!!! I used to not think much of Splatoon 2's story, too, until the autism in my brain whispered, "Callie Cuttlefish...."

(I'm about to get ranty in this post, so get ready.... if you wanna move along and don't wanna see someone get upset over a squid woman then by all means do so!)

I think the main reasons as to why the story of Splatoon 2 gets misinterpreted a lot is because in media circles, people will use the words "brainwashing" and "hypnosis" interchangeably and they genuinely don't know what hypnosis is actually like. Nintendo and the Splatoon devs probably don't know either. Like I don't think in Splatoon 2's rushed development cycle they bothered to look up the definition of hypnosis and they just made up the Hypnoshades to make Callie "evil" in a quick and easy way because "ooooo hypnosis is mind control/brainwashing ooo" WHICH IS FALSE!!!! VERY VERY FALSE!!!!!

Splatoon 2 was most likely rushed and it impacted Callie's storyline. You can clearly see what kind of story Splatoon 2 was going for from the concept art and Squid Sisters Stories prequel series. The tale of two cousins drifting apart and Callie growing resentment in her heart....

While we SORTA got that in the final game, Callie's arc got muffled due to a lack of understanding of what hypnosis actually is and media out of Splatoon continuing to use "brainwashing" as a cheap and lazy way to explain things which most likely had a strong influence in Splatoon 2's development, despite a lot of evidence proving that's not what happened to Callie... and there's not much we can do about it... ugh.

They also hid a lot of important story details behind optional content and social media posts. The sunken scrolls explaining Callie's growing mental issues, the relationship chart which disproves that Callie was kidnapped, etc, etc....

Also people tend to take Marie's perspective very objectively because we follow her as Agent 4. So when she says that Callie was "squidnapped," people believe it. When Marie says Callie was "brainwashed" in the rematch fight, people believe it. Including inkipedia and people who analyse splatoon.... the people who seek out objective information take the overthinking and worried Marie with a lack of knowledge as the well of truth.

Slight tangent but, you know what's kinda funny to me? Inkipedia wants to be very objective on Splatoon yeah? Well on Callie's main page it says, "Callie went to the octarians willingly," yet another parts of the site, it says, "she was kidnapped." Hmm... and of course, them flip-flopping the words "hypnosis" and "brainwashing" despite those words being OBJECTIVELY TWO SEPARATE THINGS THAT CANNOT BE USED INTERCHANGEABLY!!! But they use brainwashing more because Nintendo NoA used it.... oh well, tangent aside...

That's why so many people fuck up and you know what? I don't REALLYYYY blame the common fan over this. I dont! It would be unfair of me to get mad at someone who doesn't know any better because Splatoon 2 did an AWFUL job at properly fleshing out Callie!!!! When people hear what I have to say and either agree or respectfully disagree but still get my points, i get happy, and im glad more people are looking into Callie in a different light! She was treated like TRASHHHH for 7 fucking years!!!

Im only mad at certain parts of a certain wiki, and people who go over the timeline and make 5 hour videos and claim that Callie was KIDNAPPED DESPITE THERE BEING A FREELY AVAILABLE FUCKING RELATIONSHIP CHART THAT LITERALLY DISPROVES IT!!! BUT NO!!! YOU JUST HADDDDD TO READ A SINGLE INKIPEDIA ARTCLE AND YOU DIDNT EVEN BOTHER TO LOOK ANYWHERE ELSE!!!!! Putting in so much effort yet these loud voices in the community drop the fucking ball on Callie because she's silly.... ugh...

If I see another person in 2024 that says that Callie was kidnapped.... I swear to FUCKINGGGGGG god bro....

WHY DO NINTENDO PUSH THAT SHIT THEMSELVES?!?!? WHY DO THEY SAY CALLIE WAS KIDNAPPED?!?! WHY DO YOU WANT THE OCTARIANS TO BE SO FUCKING EVIL AND UNREDEEMABLE?!?!?! YOU GUYS MADE OCTO EXPANSION FOR FUCK SAKE!!! ITS SO ANNOYING!!! IM STILL NOT OVER THIS!!

UGHHHH!!!! When will it end.... I'm gonna keep repeating this stuff until I DIE it seems!!!

I dont wanna seem like I'm above anyone btw. I dont want to be like that. I'm just... really autistic about this sort of shit and I get very very picky about people's word choices and stuff when it comes to this.

I just want a character I love to be treated better... okay? That's all... it is getting better which I'm VERY happy about but... the loudest voices in the community, the people who analyse stuff and make timeline videos and analytical videos, still say the same bullshit since 2017 and I'm getting tired....

[arcxnumvitae]

❤️ RED HEART — what are three of your oc's positive traits? (Soonhee)

@lunarxdaydream || details about ocs!

oh uhhhhh

Loyal. If someone manages to get to this nigh unreachable point with Soon-hee where she trusts them enough to consider them incredibly important to her, she's a ride or die for life. She's the one you can come to if you need to bury a body.

Playful. This also comes with the note that this trait only exists if she likes someone enough, she actually has a playful streak! The key is getting her in such a lighthearted mood where she's willing to be a little more "open" to begin with.

Independent. This can go without saying I feel like. She already was a very independent person back during her first human life (regardless of her feelings characterizing her own 'dependence' on her 'suitors') but her sense of 'I can do it fine myself' only amped up then. For....obvious reasons.

[oceanwithouthermoon]

kubosai... save me...

kubosai

save me kubosai

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[rithmeres]

genuinely these panels are going to make me ugly cry