#he could charm dust out of a vacuum

[robo-writing]

cid would sooo invent the Cellphone so that he could sext u on demand, menace he is. worst part is he’s smooth enough so u don’t cringe at the fact you’re sexting

I’m gonna be real with you I’d listen to cid recite a washing machine manual that man’s voice does inhuman things to me

[mothiepixie]

Little Lies

Horror x Motti, Bad Sanses x Motti

Word count: 951

Horror ruminates.

---------

Their arrangement is all casual, or it was supposed to be. They all agreed upon it that their relationship was simply to get out of Nightmare's face and to dump the three at Motti's place when he had enough of their antics. Neither of them anticipated it growing more than just a place of repose. However as time went on things changed and mostly for Horror. 

He wouldn't dare admit it to anyone, let alone to Motti. He's still not sure where he stands with her and part of him is afraid to know, yet, here he is with her laying on his chest like his body was made to caress hers.  

His phalanges combed her hair as gently as he could, but she didn't seem to mind the occasional bump or tug.

He liked this. 

He wants more of this. 

Just the two of them together alone and living in domestic bliss, but even Horror laughs at his own desires. Him? Playing house? Is he even allowed that?  But if not, then what have they been doing all day? She cooked him a full meal and he helped lift the couch so she could vacuum under it. He attempted to help dry the dishes but broke a few, and now they're cozy up to each other watching a dumb B-rated thriller. 

It tugs at his soul and his head pounds from the thoughts swarming. Motti and him used to be at each other's throats; the very sight of each other could ruin their day. He is not at all sure when that changed. All Horror knows is that it began to irritate him when Motti would neglect herself from overworking and then putting Killer or Dust above her own needs. What a stupid girl. 

He gets irritated at those thoughts, his brow furrowing and he has to stop himself from growling. He can't deny that if Killer or Dust was out of the picture Horor would be a lot less territorial, a little easier to deal with, but he's nowhere near ready to open up to Motti about how he feels or what he really wants. 

Everytime he catches a glimpse of himself he gets an ugly reminder of what happened to him and, truthfully, he doesn’t understand how Motti can stand looking at his face. Some days he can’t even look himself in the eye as he’s just constantly reminded of how different he is from his old self. 

A yawn causes Horror to steal a glance down at Motti and watches as she tries to keep her eyes open. He sighs and runs the tips of his phalanges along her arm. 

He wants to laugh at himself, he really does, because he knows that if the core didn’t shut down and caused the magic in the underground to go haywired he still would have been his charming, pun loving self. Now look at him. A massive beast with an unsightly hole in his head and a former shell of who he used to be. 

He hates having to think how Motti would have instantly liked his old self and she wouldn’t have met this jaded old bastard. It would have been so easy to sweep her off her feet, just a pun here or there, casually dropping hints and making her feel like he was her everything. But no, instead, Motti got an insidious freak with a quick temper and more LOVE than he ever thought was possible. She would not feel so safe curled up on him like this if she really knew what he had done or what his hands were stained with. 

Even if he never ate a human Horror can’t bring himself to tell her the truth. The thought of her eyes looking at him with disgust causes his old bones to ache with a feeling he can not yet discern. It’s kind of pitiful that Motti can wear her heart on her sleeve and opened up to him more than he has even graced her with. Yet, he has resolved to himself that he will keep it that way as long as he can. If he can continue to make believe and fool himself that he’s all she wants, he can live with that. Live with the lies and live with the love she gives. 

He’ll tolerate Killer and Dust for now.  Since he has yet to tell Motti he doesn’t want to share because then that would mean he would have to admit that he cares for her in a manner that he hasn’t felt like for some time, if ever. Would she even look at him as a partner? He doesn’t particularly believe that even with how she treats him now. Maybe it’s because neither of the other boys are here to keep her entertained… 

His soul drums against his ribcage, his anxiety spiking. That’s got to be it. She got tired of being irritated by him because Killer and Dust can’t be around all the time. Even if they do mundane things together that she doesn’t really do with the others, it must because he’s just a massive heap of bones. How can she give and receive any sort of affection from him? 

Maybe he is just the placeholder after all. 

Horror growls loudly while his eye forms into a slit and his mouth pulls into a harsh snarl. Motti becomes alert, snapping out of her drowsy state and goes to look at Horror but her world spins as she’s dropped to the floor. “Wha-” Before Motti can finish her sentence Horror shortcuts out of her apartment. Dazed and confused, Motti just stares at the spot where he once was. 

[swabian-princess]

Domestic engineer tales - daily cleaning routine

Hey girlies,

as we all know - I'm a proud domestic engineer (aka SAHGF) and while this life is very soft I still have responsibilities. One of them is cleaning.

I grew up with a mother that wasn't about cleaning all the time. Sure, the basics were always done but she wasn't bothered if some pet hair was on the couch or if the kitchen wasn't cleaned until the next day.

Well, my bf is the direct opposite. He hates dirt, dust, stains, pet hair and the list goes on. Basically - he wants our apartment to look like nobody lives there. He's a perfectionist and he can't relax if he suspects the apartment is not clean. That's when I enter the game - it's my task to tidy the apartment every day, so he can come home and simply relax.

I'm not going to lie - it was really rough in the beginning because it seems like this man can smell a faint stain on a towel ten miles away.

Realize that maintenance is key!

It took some time for me to realize this. Just trust me - it's way easier to clean just a little bit every day than to spend hours cleaning once a week.

1. vacuuming

My first step is always vacuuming the whole apartment. I need roughly 30-45 min to thoroughly vacuum the apartment. My holy grail tip is to invest in a wireless vacuum cleaner. It doesn't have to be the newest dyson! In fact, bf and I have three vacuum cleaners: two dysons, one of them wireless and one Phillips, and I absolutely prefer the Philipps one over both the dysons.

2. dusting

I hate dust. It makes my nose itch and my eyes water - so there is a strong no dust policy in my home! I just grab an good old swiffer and simply dust off all my counters and all the surfaces in the apartment.

3. disinfect

I blame the pandemic for my urge to disinfect everything. I love sagrotan cleaning wipes and I always buy them in bulk when they're on sale. I wipe down my kitchen counters and every other surface in the apartment. I've been doing this for a few months now and I don't see any damage on our furniture that could be caused by the wipes.

I also wipe down my bathrooms - my sink, the water taps and the complete toilet. I also spray down the toilet and my door handles with disinfectantspray for extra protection.

4. polishing

We have quite a few glass surfaces that need to be polished every day because they tend to get grease stains very easily. I take a microfiber towel and a cotton towel and spray those surfaces with a special glass cleaner, rub it in with the microfiber towel and dry with the cotton towel for a streak free finish.

5. couch vacuuming

It was not the best decision to get two white/grey coated cats with long and fine hair while still having a black couch. You. can. see. every. single. hair. I'm very happy that our Philipps vacuum comes with a special attachment for pet hair removal. I use it on both of our couches and the attachment works like a charm. No more hairs!

6. making sure it smells good

A good smelling apartment is mandatory for me because I believe that a good smelling apartment makes living way more enjoyable.

I make sure to clean the cats' litterboxes frequently - I try to scoop the litter out immediately after they finished their business. Nothing is worse than the smell of cat shit or piss and I know way to many people that have their whole apartment smell like their cats litterbox because they neglect cleaning it.

I also spritz our couch and our carpets down with some Febreeze golden orchid cushion cleaner. It smells heavenly and the smell stays for hours! It's also pet safe, so don't worry.

Last but not least - candles. I like to light some scented candles in different rooms of the apartment to make sure that it smells nice everywhere. My current favorites are the yankee candles in vanilla cupcake and sunny daydream!

It takes me around 3hours daily to finish cleaning the apartment and that's only maintenance.

I deep clean different rooms on different days during the week. My daily tasks also include loading and unloading the dish washer, doing laundry, cooking and cleaning the kitchen after cooking.

lots of love

Selene

[softquietsteadylove]

could we possibly get a little angsty mermaid au action? missing that one! thank you for continuing to share your masterpieces with us!

I almost didn't recognise you, it's been so long.

Thena blinked, the only time needed for her friend to go from being a speck in the distance to right in front of her. She sighed, bubbles rising from her mouth. Sorry.

What's wrong? Makkari asked, despite her feelings about Thena spending more time on land than in the water, these days. She swam around her friend, resting on a sandbank like a beached whale. It must be bad for you to leave your precious human.

Thena snarled her lips, letting her fangs poke out. She turned over in the sand, her tail dusting it up around them. "Leave it alone."

Makkari swam around to her other side, though, real concern on her face now. Hey, it was a joke. Is there something I should know?

Thena's lip wobbled. If she were on land, her eyes would be pouring salt. They had done so a few times, like when she was sick, or when she watched a heartbreaking movie with Gil that felt very much like how they had come to fall in love.

But underwater, the vacuum of it swallowed her sorrows. Her gills expanded and contracted with her heavy heart. "We are quarrelling."

You and the land walker? Makkari tilted her head a few times, the gold charms she liked on the ends of her hair floating with the motion. What did he do?

Thena swiped at her eyes, another human habit she had picked up. She sighed again, adjusting herself on her sand bed. He didn't do anything. I...I learned something.

Makkari - against any mer's instincts and natural inclination - also settled herself on the sand. She rested her chin on her arms folded in front of her, the red sparkle of her scales reflecting on the beautiful tone of her skin. She raised her brows.

Thena smiled at her friend. There was nothing about the ocean she missed quite so much as Makkari. We were out walking in town. A woman approached Gil, and he knew who she was. They spoke for some time, and he introduced me. She seemed nice.

Makkari nodded along with her very factual recounting of the story. She was used to it with her, after all. She would ask her questions as they came.

I asked Gil who she was when we got back to the boat. Thena blinked, laying her head on the sand again like a pathetic guppy lost in a strange reef. She was his mate.

Makkari shot up again, her tail swishing and her hands poised as if she had the human man's throat there for the strangling. His what?!

Thena nodded, feeling the rush of foolishness and resentment and anger and envy all over again. Humans don't mate for life. Apparently, it is not uncommon for them to have numerous partners.

It wasn't that it was impossible for mers to have multiple mates. Sometimes things didn't work out, that wasn't so incomprehensible. But it wasn't something taken lightly, to become bound mates at all. Certainly it wasn't common to encounter someone's past mate and strike up pleasantries.

She nuzzled the sand, pressing her temple to it in a poor substitute for the soft but firm feeling of Gil's chest under her. He said it was a long time ago. That they had been young and parted amicably. That they were 'still friends'.

Makkari watched the way she punctuated his verbatim statement. She lifted her lips around her fangs. That sounds like a clown who wants more than one anemone.

She agreed. It was hard to communicate that to him, though, when all she had felt was rage. Anger with him for smiling at his past mate wit her right there, on his arm no less! How dare he greet this woman so normally as if they hadn't been entangled from the inside out?!

She knew it was normal for them. She knew Gil didn't mean to hurt her and she knew that she shouldn't have thrown herself right over the side of the boat to avoid him. But just the sight of him made her want to shatter coral right off his thick skull.

Humans actually had very thin skulls compared to theirs, Sersi said.

What else did he say?

Thena shook her head. The sun moved above them, or a cloud did, and she lost her comforting warm spot. She let herself drift off the sand and listlessly ride the currents around them.

Hey, Makkari nudged her arm as she began swimming next to her. I never thought I'd see the day you were limping around because of some bull.

Nor did she, in all honesty. But she had never felt quite like this, either. She let herself drift down and down until some shelves of coral made themselves known. Her tail flopped limply after her; the tail Gil said was so beautiful.

Makkari swam to face her again. Now I'm really worried.

"Sorry," Thena squeaked out. She couldn't help it. She wanted to be in a bed and to tug the covers up over her head. She wanted to run a hot bath and fold herself up in it, letting just her tail hang out in the open air.

Okay, Makkari also sighed, moving to lean against the edge of her coral refuge. I may not be the biggest admirer of your...human. But I know how much you care about him. Are you going to go back to him?

Of course--of course she would. She just came to get out her feelings. The question of going back or not was not even an option. But maybe that was part of the problem. Thena looked at her oldest and dearest friend in all the seas. Kari, I can't leave him. We're...

Makkari's eyes widened. Perhaps she'd had some inkling of things, but this was a damning admission nonetheless. She waved her fingers. You, and him, you're...you mated with him?!

Thena pursed her lips, tempted to roll over again as if she were in bed at home. "You don't have to make that face."

How is that...how? Makkari concluded, rather mildly all things considered.

How humans do it, Thena sufficed to say. She didn't have to go over the gruesome details.

To her credit, Makkari restrained herself from further reaction. She crossed her arms again. Do you feel different?

She did, but she also didn't. She had never taken a mate of her own kind, but she had never even desired to. With Gil...it had happened so naturally, come of natural events. Perhaps she had experienced new mate-hood, in which she had become so infatuated that she had nary desired to leave Gil's side.

But then she thought of the human woman again, of her hanging on Gil's arm, and kissing him and eating his food. And it made her stomach clench like when she had fallen ill with a human 'bug'.

Thena blinked as she felt the touch of a hand on her arm. Makkari gave her a sympathetic look. Mers were not the type to exchange physical gestures meaninglessly, and they in particular were not partial to it. But she smiled, "thanks."

Makkari patted her arm before fiddling with the gold on her fingers (also stolen little trinkets). Well, you'll go back, you said. When?

She was asking if Thena would stay in the water for some time. But she hadn't considered it. For all she had done to storm off and leave poor Gil all alone in the small motorboat, she hadn't considered staying past the height of the moon. For how miserable she was feeling, she still wanted to return to his arms to sleep.

How foolish mating with a partner made someone.

I don't know, Thena answered more properly. She at least lifted herself from the coral. I wanted time to think clearly.

Makkari shrugged. Bulls--what can be done about them?

Thena offered a somewhat sardonic but genuine smile. She was inclined to agree, but she still wished to return to her bull in question. I promise I will return soon, and in better spirits.

Makkari followed her as she began swimming upward again. As soon as she had tossed herself from the boat, she had swam straight down, desiring nothing more than getting Gil out of her sight. Does Ikaris know?

Thena rolled her eyes. No, and he never can. I had to worry about him drowning Gil before they had even met. This will not help.

Fine, but I can't say I'm completely against it, Makkari offered neither her complete support nor condemnation. But it was support either way, and Thena appreciated it.

Thena eyed the bait that was hanging in the water. They weren't deep enough for mers yet, but it was deep enough that most wouldn't be fishing with a regular manual rod in such an odd spot.

Makkari beat her to it, of course, swimming right up to it. There's something tied around it.

Thena floated next to it, undoing the strip of cloth tied around the line. The ink was already being eaten at by the salt, but the sloth was scrawled with a very sad SORRY on it in horrific lettering. "Oh, Gil."

Has he just been sitting here? Makkari asked, looking up at the bottom of the boat.

That was exactly what he had been doing. Because that was Gil; he wouldn't have gone home without her. Even if she had, she would have discovered he wasn't back and come to find him. So he had stayed put, cast the line with a message for her to come back to him, unable to come after her properly.

Okay, fine, he's not bad for a human, Makkari conceded with minimal eye rolling. She gave Thena's fin a friendly smack with her own on her way past. Come back another time you don't want to just cry about your boyfriend and his legs?

Thena waved to her friend's swiftly retreating image before Makkari truly put her power into her tail and shot off with blinding speed. She did owe her more visits, and it was nice to truly swim completely uninhibited for a time.

She poked her head up slowly, the water lapping around her. It was dusk, and soon would be completely dark. She rose until she could peek over the side of the boat.

Gil was tearing another strip of fabric off his emergency canvas, writing the word over and over and over to get the ink to penetrate the cloth properly.

Oh, her sweet, sweet human man. Thena sighed, once again feeling the air in her lungs, even with her gills in her neck. She brought her hands up to the boat's edge, "Gil?"

"Th-Thena!" he startled, but his head whipped up to her. He had been crying. "Angelfish!"

The boat tipped dangerously as he rushed over to her. As much as she could get them back home, she wasn't strong enough to tip over a boat by herself. "Gil!"

He stopped his rush to hug her, or lift her out of the water and back onboard with him. His shoulders sagged, "oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry. I should have explained more--a-about my ex. I didn't mean for you to find out that way."

She still didn't enjoy the concept of Gil and his ex-mate, doing mating things. But she pulled herself up and into the boat for herself, settling on the bench, still with her tail on. "I know you were put in a difficult position, Gil. I...I shouldn't have swam off."

He plunked himself back down to the other seat by the motor. "No, I don't blame you for being mad. I probably wouldn't want to find out about any ex of yours by running into him on a date."

Yes, exactly! She had her vindication, which did soothe the stubborn part of her. But she split her tail into legs again, leaning forward. "Gil."

He let her lift his chin, happy to accept her kiss. He slipped his fingers into her hair. "I'm sorry, Angelfish. I didn't want you to get hurt like that."

It had hurt, in an odd way. Humans had such interesting concepts of pain--so internal and self reflective. But Thena smiled, running her thumb over his cheek, "I know."

He accepted her acceptance. He wasn't forgiven, but he wasn't asking for that. He reached behind him, putting his jacket over her, "let's get home, okay?"

Thena nodded, pulling the jacket up and zipping it. It was cold in the air, even as the salt beaded off her skin. "I'm sorry, I don't know where the dress ended up."

"It's okay, Cuddlefish, we can get you another one," he smiled, eager to maintain their lifted spirits. He held his arm out, inviting her to sit next to him for the boat ride home.

She obliged him, settling herself in the crook of his arm. She pressed her temple to his chest, finally soothed after the sand failed where he was succeeding. "I want that seafood stew you make for dinner."

What he called 'Jjampong' was one of her favourites, not only for the seafood, but for the pleasant spiciness it possessed.

He kissed her hair, speeding ahead and back to their home, on the island, with Titania waiting for them at the dock. "Anything you want, Thena."

She wanted him to swear to be her one and only mate from now on. But dinner would suffice for now.

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Cold, cold the Night Has Grown

From Control - Full Story in Progress on AO3!

Soap x Shadow!Reader (slight Ghost x Reader)

Soap and the reader have poor timing, they just don't realize it yet.

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: Light Angst, Slow Burn, Romance, Light Fluff, Drama, Setting up for future Tragedy, Future Angst, Setting up Tension, Flirting, Teasing, Pretty Subtle, Pretty Tame, Military Inaccuracies, Small Gestures, Mentions of Graves as an ex, Double Agent Reader, More Soap leaning than Ghost leaning, I feel like Soap's popular but at the same time still gets like zero thorough content, that's my man right there, put some respect on his name, I'm done being unhinged.

A/N: Finally getting to the canon universe stuff, so I can begin the drama. Chapter's a bit slow. Basically the building block chapter so I can get to all the action and drama I have planned for the next chapter (it's gonna be messy because I love messes). Though I can't resist writing Soap as a charming little fella and Ghost as a broody fuck who likes to pine from a distance.

Please Enjoy~ヾ(*´ ∇ `)ﾉ

Masterlist

...Some Weeks Later...

It's funny how most of your belongings could fit into a single duffle bag.

You sling your bag over your shoulder and take one final look back into your barrack room, seeing it now stripped bare of any of its former personality. The bed was tightly made, with the floors vacuumed and the walls empty. Dawn began to break through the dark clouds outside, its dim light struggling to illuminate through the curtains. All the while, the dust quickly settles itself as once before.

You couldn't shake this sense of dread that fell upon you suddenly, once you could finally take in this little, gray room. As gray and little as the last one they'd boxed you up in. It never takes long for it to feel like home, just as it did become just another empty piece of space.

You hadn't realized how hard it would be to let go of this one though. For only the uncertainty of what lies next ahead of you awaited, and now you'd give anything to be back in this little, gray room.

The news had been broken to the 141 on a random, Wednesday evening after work that day. It took all of you by surprise, yet it was you who'd been most struck by what the higher-ups had announced.

"You'll be flying out to Al Mazrah tomorrow morning," they said. "New orders."

The news hit you like a truck when you heard it. Al Mazrah. The recent hotspot for your allies and ground zero to all your company's problems. That Al Mazrah.

As usual, there were little details beyond what they believed to be the important bits; the scraps they felt could sate their soldier's minds and keep them from having too many questions.

A breakthrough was made. Word's not clear, but from the looks of things, Shepherd and Laswell got a hit on their AQ culprit. The head of the snake himself, as they believe it, Hassan Zyani. Right now it's more rumor and past offenses than anything, but it's enough to reign an invasion down upon him nonetheless.

You hadn't heard the name since Kavala, though you had wondered what his connection to all of this was. That man Graves killed, Onyx, had mentioned Hassan having some sort of involvement with Konni and the Ultranationalist that attacked Shadow Company back in August. Of course, no one here knew you knew that. Shepherd and Graves went to great lengths to keep the details of that operation as off-the-books as possible.

So the extent of your knowledge went slightly beyond your comrades, though it wasn't by much.

That was the extent of all the information you had about this. Everything else is basically in the dark. Where you're going, who'll be there, what you'll find... It's what's got you so riled up, everything that's in store.

When they get Hassan, what will he say? Will catching him bring a final end to AQ and their attacks, or would they simply find another man to follow? Someone worse and more cunning than the last? If his connection with Onyx was true, could he possibly know where the missiles from Black Bag had gone? And if he does, what's to stop him from saying something now and blowing your cover in front of the entire Task Force? What would you do then?

It was times like this you wished you could talk to your commander. As much of a secretive, little shit Graves could be at times, you always valued his input when it came to missions. You genuinely respected him, and he was one of the smartest men you knew. You knew if anyone was good at keeping their cool while hiding the truth, it was Graves. He always had a talent for making sense of situations and keeping them matter-of-fact. For better and for worse.

But he's not here now. You are. And you're on your own.

You make your way out of your room, stepping into an empty hallway as you take another look around yourself. You're sure the others were awake and packing up for the flight, if they weren't already out in the parking lot, waiting by the rest of the vans there to escort everyone to your plane.

From what you were told, it wouldn't just be you and the Task Force flying out for this one; Shepherd's assigned a whole other squadron of marines to assist on the job. The details may be scarce, but from the forming crowd the General was arranging, whatever this next mission was, it wouldn't be a covert one.

Shepherd would see this be a battle.

You haven't seen true active combat in months now. You hadn't noticed how long it'd been until today; it's not like you missed it. There was bittersweet contentment that came with knowing that in a few hours, you would be thrown into harm's way though. It's the one thing you can guarantee.

You wanted to believe it was your nerves that were starting to spike because of it, rather than this impending nausea you felt about the weight of this assignment.

The cold morning air greets you once you step outside. Immediately you come across two, large white vans parked right outside the barracks, as a small group of soldiers gathered at the trunk, slowly loading it with bags. One of those soldiers included Ghost. Great...

You wouldn't say you were necessarily avoiding Ghost. However, you have spent the last few weeks trying not to be around him for too long. Not alone at least. Not after that awkward situation a few nights ago.

To be quite honest, you still didn't know what to make of that night. In a literal sense, you had just fallen on him by accident while jogging. Yeah he fell too and you landed on top of him, but it's not like anything else happened. Beyond his hands being a bit too curious for his own liking on your arm...

But that's it.

Neither of you brought it up after that, though it's clear it had still been on both of your minds. Ghost was just better, and more adamant, about keeping his feelings to himself than you were.

Lately, he's just been more short with you, micromanaging you during exercises, keeping conversations short and impersonal, and even going out of his way to leave a room if he knows that it'll only be you two around.

Two steps back from square one.

His coldness didn't change your own behavior, though it did make it more seldom aimed his way. You wouldn't let him intimidate you, but you would respect the man's obvious want to not be anywhere alone with you for too long also. However long this would continue for.

Guessing from the way he looked your way as you exited the building, and then quickly put his focus back on the other soldiers, this would mark another day to his vow of silence with you.

At this point, it just amused you to see how long he could go ignoring you. He could be as aloof as he pleased, the message was still received.

To your dismay, however, Soap was nowhere to be found yet, meaning he must still be inside packing. The Sergeant always had a natural way of sucking the tension out of the air between you and Ghost. He also always had a way of not being where you needed him to be. Not right away at least.

Though that may only be because Soap's presence tended to make your attention gravitate towards him more; especially given the last week or so you've spent around him.

Nothing's been established, nor really talked about, though that hasn't seemed to bother either of you. Nor has it stopped you two from wanting to be around each other either; in which case, time here would have been unbearable if John had not been here.

Yet at the same time, you feared the growing magnitude of what seemed to be a blossoming relationship. A relationship. The last thing you needed right now. And yet something you've longed for, for a long time as well.

Now, it's not that Soap has really done anything other than be himself. But that's what you liked so much about him, that he was himself.

He was funny and lighthearted, an absolute golden retriever of a man once you actually spent some time around him. Soap had a knack for always finding some excuse to be around you too, which you didn't mind at all. Whether it be going to the gym together after work or simply getting carried away with idle chatter throughout the day. You were there, and so was he.

It was also nice that Soap happened to be an absolute snack to look at as well. And oh did he know it.

As his knack would follow, you were constantly running into him in the barracks hallways after work. Whenever it would happen, he somehow always looked good too.

Nothing beats the other day, however.

You'd stepped out of your room for a spell to get some fresh air. You almost didn't make it when you ran into Soap on his way back from the gym. In just a t-shirt and some tight little short shorts that fit his legs so nicely you had to stop yourself from drooling. How defined his biceps looked in his shirt and his thighs in his bottoms would forever be seared in your mind. Along with the way the sweat lightly beamed down his skin, helping to define each and every one of his fine features.

And of course, he had had this cocky little grin after too.

"Take your time," he teased, jokingly beginning to flex his arms a bit. "It's all yours."

There was a moment there where you contemplated just taking his hand and pulling him into your room right then and there. But you contain yourself, shaking that devil off your shoulder. No, you told yourself. You don't always have to fuck guys you like. Even if you really, really want to.

After rushing through things with Graves, you were not eager on repeating that here with Soap, even as you felt moments away from tearing his clothes off and saying fuck it. And even as you feared that your reluctance might simply push him away too.

There was an instance where you worried your want to slow your roll would scare him away. You knew it was something most men wouldn't bother themselves with waiting for. But John, being John, had a way of just making things feel... easy.

Soap respected you. He respected your boundaries, your pace, your word. As any man would, he had his wants of course, but he had been willing enough to set them aside. Allowing for you to be ready at your own speed, if that day were ever to come.

He puts it all aside so easily. This never went unnoticed by you, because with every time you noticed it, this faint sensation of guilt would always follow soon after.

And it's why you are moving so slowly, because if by the end of this mission, should this assignment go wrong and your cover is blown, or something worse were to happen...

You didn't want to think about it.

You take another look at the vans parked out front, sighing to yourself and putting on a face for the crowd. Soap wasn't here to rescue you now. Graves wasn't either. Fortunately for you, you're a natural at blending in.

That's why you're here, right?

You approach the back of the van with your bag, greeting the others as you make your way over. At their feet lie a few larger bags that they had been playing Tetris with within the trunk from the looks of it. Ghost stood a foot or so away from everyone else with his own bag slung over his shoulder, having probably been waiting on these guys to move out of the way before placing his stuff down.

You'd have to applaud him for his patience later, given the sudden incompetence being put at full display right now.

"No," one of the soldiers aggressively starts removing one of the bags from the trunk. From his tone, you could tell he was fed up. "That's not gonna fit in there like that."

"Yeah, it will!" Another soldier approaches the trunk now, aggressively hoisting up the bags as he attempted to stuff them back in. "You just gotta not be a dumbass about it. See, look."

The man points towards the trunk to show off his work, only for the bags to then immediately fall back out onto the ground. Hardly another second went by before the others were eating him up about it.

As the soldiers continued to argue amongst themselves, you unknowingly found yourself gravitating towards the back of the crowd. Your duffle bag slings heavily over your shoulder, the straps digging into your arm growing more uncomfortable by the passing second. You adjust the straps, not trying to bring too much attention your way, as you try patiently waiting for the others to figure it out.

"What the fuck are you doing?" The soldiers start trying to keep more bags from falling out of the trunk now. "Jesus Christ, who taught you how to pack?"

This strap was really starting to make your shoulder sore. Maybe you did have more to pack than you thought. You did stuff your bag to the absolute brim, not wanting to lug around more than one thing. Though having everything in two bags might have been the better choice for your arms in the long run.

Hopefully, they'd figure it out before your arm went numb; that or you finally stepped in. You adjust the bag on your shoulders a third time, your silent groans going unheard by the bickering of your comrades in front of you. Or so you thought.

"Canary." Ghost's voice was low, but you could pick it up over the other soldier's arguing.

You glance to your left, seeing the lieutenant standing a few short steps away from you, the shadow of his body having just now dawned on you. His dark eyes look down at you blankly, as you see him extend a hand to you suddenly. His silence thereafter speaks for itself.

You knew he was gesturing for your bag, probably having noticed you struggling, which you can't help but smirk at him about now. He spends the last week or so giving you the cold shoulder, and now suddenly he wants to act friendly.

You readjust the bag on your arm again. "I got it."

"I don't doubt it."

Ghost keeps a gloved hand out, his offer still standing. You stare at it a little longer before finally caving and slipping your bag off from your shoulder. Once removed, you feel this immense pressure leave, as you sigh to yourself and begin stretching your arms.

Ghost silently takes the bag and slings it over his shoulder, next to his own large pack. He carried everything like it were just another jacket on his back, turning his focus back to the others. Show off.

"Thank you," you say.

His silence afterwards did not come to you as a surprise.

Some few more minutes passed with Ghost standing silently beside you, the sun continuing to struggle and break through the morning clouds above you. Though you weren't necessarily alone, this had been the first time in days you two have been able to actually stand next to each other like this. In mutual silence.

In many ways, Ghost often reminded you of a distant, older brother. No ill feelings were harbored, even as he liked to pretend he could do without your company. But he had his ticks, just like everyone else.

Sometimes you'd peak at him, mostly through your peripherals. From there you could have sworn he might have been doing the same. Of course, it's a lot harder to see his eyes when he's damn near over a foot taller than you and wearing a mask. But you can feel his eyes, all the same.

There was something about the way he steals peaks at you from time to time that you've been able to pick up now with being around him more. That subtle side eye which brings a slight shift to his stance every time. Like he needed straightening up. His watchful gaze over you.

You kind of missed it.

"I'm surprised you're not giving them any pointers," you comment, your tone somewhat more sarcastic than it probably needed to be. Lord knows Ghost has been having a heyday giving you pointers during training lately.

"I'm not on the clock yet," he says dryly.

You make a face at that, though you're sure he probably missed it.

"What's everyone gathered 'round for?"

That sweet, Scottish voice spoke suddenly from near the entrance of the barracks. You look over to find the Sergeant making his way over, two large bags gripped in both hands, as his smile grew larger with every step. The closer he grew near, the bigger your smile grew as well.

"These dipshits don't know how to pack bags," one of the soldiers said.

"Allow me," Soap squeezed his way by the soldiers, accessing the mess of bags in the trunk. He looks heavily, before a grin paints his lips and he nods.

"Step back," he coos. "Let me show you how a pro does it."

In a matter of maybe three minutes, Soap had managed to take everyone's bags and arrange them inside so that everything fit perfectly. The craftsmanship was spotless, he even left room for a few more bags. And he did so with ease, needing little to no pointers the entire time.

Once he'd managed to stuff the last bag inside, the rest of the soldiers all gave him a celebratory pat on the back, which of course he completely ate up. Though, as the soldiers did so, you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes kept coming back to meet yours. All the while you waited to see them yourself.

When his cool blue gaze would catch a glimpse of you, they always seemed to have a little twinkle to them, as his ears would perk just the slightest bit more when he smiled. He never shied away from when your eyes would meet, taking pleasure in seeing them. And it was sweet every time.

You hadn't noticed the others returning to the barracks to grab the rest of the bags, Ghost included. Pretty soon the crowd whittled down, and it was just you and Soap standing by the vans.

You thought about following the others. You can tell Soap did too, for a moment. But one little glance at each other was all you needed to stay behind.

The minute you're alone, Soap's gaze falls on you, his large biceps tightly folding over his chest as he crossed them. You kept your distance at first, letting your sly smile tug at the Sergeant, as he's grown used to seeing it by now.

It's safe to say Soap has spent enough time around you to really take in all the details of you, just as you have him. How you perk up every time he looks at you. The way the blush builds on your nose and cheeks when he winks. The fire and passion in your eyes that he somehow could stoke further with just a simple touch.

It's why he quickly notices when something's a little off with you.

He remains by the vans, looking you up and down, noticing the way you kept yourself away from him, your body language more curt than you probably notice. Soap gives you a faint look, like he's trying to read you suddenly. He keeps a warm smile when he speaks to you. "Everything OK?"

You quickly try and readjust yourself the minute he speaks, knowing your body language was probably what tipped him off. "Yeah, yeah... I'm fine," you say. "Just ready to get this done and over with."

"Feeling nervous?"

You sigh. "A little..."

"Well don't you worry my lil' lass," Soap begins to tease you now. "I'll keep you safe."

"Oh, will you now?" you chuckle. "You gonna protect me then, John?"

"That's a part of the job, no?"

"Ah, so it's transactional then."

Soap chuckles to himself at your attempts to be witty. He looks back to see if the others are returning yet. When there's no sight of them, he takes a generous step forward, his hands reaching out to take hold of your hips, as his scent blankets over you in the cold air.

"It's more pleasure than business."

Wrapped in him like you are, you honestly believe him. "Good for me then."

You see Soap's lips part, preparing to speak. "You know I was thinking-"

Before he could finish his thought, Soap looks up to see that all the others were returning again. With more bags. He quickly puts a pause to that sentence, parting ways from you, though his words now linger in your mind, as you wait for the others to continue packing their things into the trunk.

I was thinking... You're not sure why, but it started to make your stomach knot.

You wait for another moment when the soldiers disperse and begin piling into the vans, before tapping the Sergeant's shoulder.

"Soap," you call to him. "You were saying something earlier?"

You see Soap think to himself for a moment, his smile dipping only faintly, as something began to glint in his eyes. That thought that had been on his mind.

"Let's talk about it when we get back, yeah?" he says.

"It's nothing bad, right?"

"Never," he gives you a parting wink. "I'll save you a seat, lil' bird."

It takes you a moment to move from your spot, but you eventually do. You've no choice but to.

...Chapter Twenty-One Here!

[purplekoop]

Was busy yesterday with an almost finished next character, but we're back in the Darkworld for a belated day 8 with a two-for-one bargain: The misfortunate young soul Evelyn and her chipper cleaning companion Duster!

Just over a hundred years ago, Evelyn lived happily with her mother, an underpaid housekeeper at a prestigious family's mansion. To help her overworked mom, Evelyn would do her best to secretly help share her mom's cleaning duties, despite her protests. However, one night, a fire broke out in the building, and with no way to escape, all the poor mother could do was hold her child until the bitter end, assuring her that everything would be okay.

Years later, their employer's family would recover, and eventually rebuilt their old family home. However, they were not expecting to be greeted by the otherworldly visage of the child who once worked in its halls, still wandering the halls searching for her lost mother. The mansion was abandoned once more, now with only a single resident.

Decades pass, and Evelyn has remained dedicated to the goal of helping her mother keep the mansion clean, in an everlasting war with dust and mild stains. One night, after tiring of nearly a century of tedious housework, Evelyn dared to venture out into the outside world in hopes of finding some way to aid her eternal chores. To her luck, she finds just that in the window of a nearby electronics store: a brightly colored box featuring the Dust Buster Automated Vacuum Companion. Evelyn discreetly heists the box using her ghostly abilities, and then unboxes her new helper. Lacking the understanding of batteries, Evelyn empowers the device with some of her paranormal energy, giving it a livelier than intended sort of personality. Charmed by the cheery beeps of the device, Evelyn gave him the name Duster.

As she began the trip back home with her new friend however, she looked up at the full moon of the Darkworld, and as if reflecting off of it, she heard her mother's voice. With every iota of her soul, she was certain: her mom is out there, somehow, somewhere, trying to find her. And not ready to sit idly by for another century, Evelyn, with the help of Duster of course, now scours the world trying to find her mother.

Evelyn at a glance is a fairly underwhelming fighter. Her ghostly nature means she's one of the lightest and floatiest members of the cast, offset somewhat by her relatively small size and good air mobility. She has good air speed, an air dodge that causes her to briefly vanish, and a very high-reaching but uniquely floaty double jump. Her moves often use household cleaning objects like rags and feather dusters to swipe at foes, though she can also use her ghostly tail for slow but long-ranged attacks, or manifest small pulses of ghostly energy to rapidly strike with her rapid jab or up smash.

However, this is merely what she does on her own, as Evelyn always carries her trusty companion Duster into a fight. By default, Duster is carried on Evelyn's back, but can be dropped straight downwards with her down special, Duster Drop. Once on the ground, Duster will remain in place and await instruction from Evelyn. Pressing down special while Duster is active will use Remote Order, causing Duster to swap between standing still, moving forward, and turning around, which can be inputted with rapid repeated tap inputs. While moving, Duster will stop automatically and turn around if he reaches a ledge. Holding Remote Order will have him attempt to reach Evelyn's position, which will let her pick him back up if they are close enough, or stopping in place if the button is released before they do. While deployed, Duster acts as a small platform to all players, and will carry them on his back as he moves. He also unfortunately is capable of being hurt, and has a health meter indicated next to Evelyn's percent display. If he's launched by any move while at zero health, he will instantly be sent flying off stage with no chance of recovery. However, if he is only launched, he can be grabbed midair with down special if Evelyn is close enough. While on Evelyn's back, Duster's health slowly recharges. If Duster is KO'd outright, his health meter recharges at half that rate, and can only be re-deployed again once his health fully recovers.

But beyond moving and getting hit, Duster's prime function is that he will perform his own versions of some of Evelyn's moves, either in place of her attack or alongside it. For instance, instead of her up smash striking repeatedly with a swirl of spectral energy, Duster pops out a feather duster from his top hatch and rapidly spins in place. These moves include her three smash attacks, which are weaker than Evelyn's counterparts, but only require Evelyn to perform a quick command instead of commit to the full attack animation, letting her attack while Duster recovers. She can even input a smash attack in the air to issue these commands, though can't use her smash attacks in the air normally. Note that the command animation replaces Evelyn's smash attacks. This is also the case for the duo's guard specials, Ghost Shriek and Static Field. Without Duster deployed, Evelyn unleashes a spine-chilling wail that does minimal damage and knockback, but stuns all enemies caught in the soundwave she produces. However, if Duster is active, then he will instead pop out an antenna and produce a field of electricity, which does a few rapid hits ending in a weak launcher, while continuing to emit a field that does passive damage but no hitstun, as well as entirely delete any enemy projectiles inside it. Static Field is unique as a Guard Special in that it offers no protection to Evelyn herself unless she's standing near Duster, making it a liability to have Duster out if Ghost Shriek would help more. The duo's side special meanwhile, Spirit Twister, will have both characters perform the move if they can. Evelyn will ready up before flying sideways while spinning, striking repeatedly with her body. Duster meanwhile will spin along the ground a similar distance (unless he stops at a ledge), striking only once, weakly tripping enemies as he does. The move's startup can be cancelled by shielding if on the ground, letting Duster perform the move while Evelyn remains in place.

Evelyn has a few spectral tricks of her own. Her neutral special is a distinct move: Haunt. Upon using the move, Evelyn will become a mere swirl of spirit energy in place. If there is an enemy projectile in range, she will then Haunt it, hiding inside it until the projectile expires, or exiting early and leaving it to fly off without her by pressing the special button. She can determine whether the projectile flies left or right with a direction input right after she starts haunting it. If instead the closest target is an enemy outright, she will instead haunt them, though only briefly stunning them before sending them flying left or right as an unconventional command grab as she exits. Finally, she can even haunt Duster, noted with his eyes adopting her signature small eyelashes, letting him be played as directly. He can't jump, but can use his normal jab, smash attacks, and Spirit Twister, using his normal inputs, but shielding will automatically use Static Field and forcibly eject Evelyn. Evelyn can otherwise stay haunting him indefinitely until he runs out of health and gets launched, or manually by pressing neutral special again. You can even possess the Duster of a different Evelyn, though your own Duster can't be commanded while inside another one. Her final special is her up special, Peek-a-Vanish. Using the move as normal is a simple teleport, which has her quickly but uneventfully vanish and reappear elsewhere based on your directional input. However, holding the attack button as you reappear will cause Evelyn to scream, causing enemies she hits directly to be stunned similar to Ghostly Shriek, though leaving herself wide open if she misses.

Evelyn on her own is less powerful than the rest of the cast, having subpar range, no projectiles of her own, one of the lowest weights, and overall mediocre damage output and KO power. Her array of movement options gives her one of the best recoveries, and her unique midair movement can provide her with some unique combo opportunities. But she's not complete as a fighter without Duster, whose ability to add another angle of pressure, start or extend combos, and control area is what lets Evelyn shine. He takes some extra effort to manage, but properly tracking both halves of your character at once is vital to success. Duster does have his own faults however. He can be taken out quickly, especially if Evelyn can't save him from being knocked off the stage early. Being active also limits Evelyn's own moveset, most vital of which being her guard special, making it not always ideal to have him out. But it's rough out there without a friend, so it's important to get these two pals to work together.

and keeping up the new streak of characters who are harder to explain than to draw, Evelyn was another easy design to remaster and Duster is... a pancake with eyes, he took like three minutes to add in. The next character is gonna be an interesting one though, as she'll be a character who didn't exist before this month started, and is distinct in another way. One thing's for sure though, she's also gonna be waaaayyy easier to explain mechanically.

[wondernus]

˗ˋˏ When We Meet Chapter 3 ˎˊ˗

synopsis: there is only so much forgiving and forgetting you can do when you end up getting stood up by your date over and over again. so when you're stuck between the best friend, the first crush, and their mysterious roommate whose existence seemed like a myth, you can only hope the decision you've been making is the right one.

pairing: kmg x reader

chapter tags: food mention, present-day, mingyu's first appearance

wc: 2k

message from nu: :-) mingoo finally here but also not really. - nu

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A crash sounds from the floor above you, and a muffled voice yelling he’s okay quickly follows. The crash isn’t big enough to cause a reverberation large enough to wobble one of the paintings hanging above the television in front of you, so you ignore it and continue vacuuming the thin red textile rug under your feet.

The living room space is tiny, but it feels like the interior came straight out of an Ikea showroom — and to be fair, most of the interior did thanks to Minghao’s job at a commercial bank. There is the grey sleeper sofa with the outstretched chaise that ends so close to the white lacquer television storage cabinet that you could reach over for the remote instead of standing up. Framed photos and paintings form a gallery wall above the television, the photos picturing memories made since university. There is a photo of DK, Minghao, and you grinning together at graduation, each clutching empty diploma books in your hands. Cast off to the side is a paid photo from an amusement park rollercoaster ride with the fourth person’s face — an ex —covered and replaced with a picture of a famous actor that the three of you all agree to be charming. A blue fortune teller and two origami frogs sit on the windowsill next to the row of fake plants in their pots and vases.

Maneuvering the vacuum back to its corner, you’re careful not to knock over the two rolled yoga mats leaning against the wall when you pull its plug. While looping and retracting the long vacuum cord, your eyes wander to the hanging calendar to the side of the staircase. It’s a calendar of some random family that made it to the shelves of a nearby thrift store that the guys thought was funny enough to buy and hang in their home as if they were a part of the photographed family. Important dates are marked with red permanent marker: utility bill due, rent due, Wi-Fi bill due, company dinner… Then there’s a date circled many times over and then crossed out and drawn on the correct date. Mingyu is coming back.

It’s been about two years since graduation. You’ve managed to not fall out of contact with your college friends — even regularly grabbing brunch at fancy hotels with those who stayed in the area. Work is near your childhood home. The only thing that seemed to change is DK — or at least his name.

DK, or rather Seokmin now as stated on his business cards, thumps down the stairs with a giant cardboard box in his arms. He sets it on the sofa and collapses on open the spot next to it, sighing loudly with his arms stretched out like he’s making a snow angel.

If it hadn’t hit you then, then it surely hits you now: Mingyu is coming back. All this preparatory work for someone whom you don’t know, for someone whose humidifier sits in the corner of the hallway closet collecting dust, for someone who clearly makes your friends happy…you can’t help but feel excited for your friends. And you can’t help but feel excited yourself.

Kim Mingyu’s stuff sits in their tiny townhouse like the objects on display in a museum after only being used for about a month or two. The owner, who couldn’t give up an opportunity for working abroad after graduation, is finally able to transfer back. For good this time. You’re sure you’ve memorized every single photo in that household, especially those of Mingyu and the stories behind them. How he towers over his two roommates, holding up bunny ears behind his friends’ heads. How his shiny silver braces catch the light when he stops what he’s doing to smile for a photo. How he made them take a picture together that first day they met in the dorms. In just a few days you’ll be able to meet him in person. And maybe tell him sorry for accidentally breaking one of his ceramic plates.

Minghao quickly follows after his friend, bounding down the stairs, car keys jingling in his pockets. He stops in front of Seokmin and pulls his keys out of his pocket, waving them in front of his face.

“Let’s go.” He lightly slaps his friend’s knee twice. “I’m driving.”

Seokmin groans in response, letting his body slide down the sofa like a piece of butter on a hot skillet. He lands with a thud in between his friend’s legs, and the friend simply crosses over his friend’s body to make his way to the kitchen where you’re standing behind the island sink with an amused look on your face.  

Minghao places his arm on your right shoulder and leans into you, his floral cologne engulfing your senses, “Promise me your next boyfriend won’t be as lazy as he is.”

“I heard that,” Seokmin calls from the floor. “You can’t hide anything in our place. Not even your snacks that your friend brought back from China for you. It’s too small.”

The man standing next to you sighs and pats you on the shoulder twice before making his way to the front door. He tells you to text him your lunch order. Lunch will be on him today.

“Are you going to tell him he’s still wearing his froggy headband?” you ask Seokmin after Minghao closes the front door behind him.

“No.” Seokmin finally pushes himself off the floor and stares downwards at his old stained t-shirt. He frowns while lifting up the hem up his large tee past his bellybutton, inspecting all of his various stains, kind of embarrassed to venture in public wearing old clothes next to Minghao (even while he’s sporting the bright green cartoon froggy headband). Turning to you, he tells you that he’s going to run upstairs to quickly change before heading out. “Answer my phone on the counter if Mingyu calls. Hang up if Hao calls,” he instructs you from the top of the bannisters.

The sound of Seokmin’s soon to be shared bedroom door closing rings throughout the townhouse, and you are alone to yourself. Picking up his abandoned cellphone, you bring it to the living room area so you can look through the box of unwanted items the guys are thinking about donating. You know you wouldn’t mind taking a couple of Minghao’s old clothes — he would probably even give you styling tips if he had time. However, in the cardboard box are old second-hand college textbooks that they bought from a friend of a friend of a friend and a couple of hand-made tie blankets and gifts from exes. To be honest, the thought of throwing away that paid amusement park rollercoaster photo is extremely tempting, but the guys insist that the memories that the three of you share (and the price of that photo…amusement park items are heavily overpriced, but it works because people will pay for them) heavily overweigh a stupid ex whose face could easily be taped over by someone better looking.

Plus, the guys reassure you, your self-worth is much higher than whatever you lowered yourself to with that last ex. It’s about a year since you last dated anybody and even you know to never settle for less.

Fingers gloss over the knots and fringes on the fleece tie blankets, feeling the smooth fabric that’s slowly falling apart at its hand-tied knots. It’s a shame the guys are throwing away the projects, but the blankets don’t, as Marie Kondo says, spark joy. And to be honest, you don’t think the guys ever enjoyed receiving the blankets with the tacky and bright patterns. It was a weird time: both Seokmin and Minghao coincidentally dated best friends.

A familiar marimba ringtone plays from the phone in your lap and you bring the phone up to your face. Mingyu’s name flashes on the phone owner’s lockscreen and there’s a picture of him from probably his first year to go along with it. Freshman Mingyu, baby-faced and only eighteen, smiles back at you, awkward and thin-lipped, waiting for somebody to answer the video call.

It’s exhilarating thinking about meeting Mingyu for the first time. It would be no worries at all, a chill call. At least that’s what you assume from your fragmented idea of Mingyu composed of the different stories you’ve heard about him. You were also pretty sure you could recognize that man anywhere because of all of the pictures and videos of him that you’ve seen over the course of the last few years. And with a large breath in, you answer the call.

“Seok,” a deep and tired voice immediately mumbles from offscreen. There’s a slight lisp present, just as the guys have described. “Did you double-check to see if my humidifier still works? If it doesn’t then I have to find a way to ship the one I’m currently using over to our place within the next few days. Or do you think if I bought an extra checked luggage it would be cheaper?”

The room is dark, most likely because the owner lives on the other side of the world. You can assume his phone is leaning against something on his desk. There’s not a lot to see — most of Mingyu’s stuff is already being shipped back home on a plane or a boat. A lit table lamp sits on the floor next to his bed, the nightstand probably sold or gifted to somebody else. You hear the familiar rumble of a closing desk drawer and then see a hand reach for the phone.

“Seok?” The audio crackles when Mingyu picks up the phone and brings the phone up to his face.

Then you see him for the first time. Kim Mingyu. His tanned face glows under his dimmed bedroom lights. Black hair damp, dripping, and pushed back from his shower. The man who wears a navy blue silk top with a pearly white trim, who quickly adjusts his thick wire glasses to see you better, looks nothing like the young man from Seokmin’s Mingyu contact photo.

“Oh? Hi, you must be-”

You instinctively end the call before he could greet you, slamming the phone onto the couch like you’re using a fly swatter, feeling like you accidentally stumbled upon something you weren’t supposed to see. Heart beating fast, you sit there wide-eyed in shock.

If this Mingyu is the same person Seokmin and Minghao have been referencing to for years, then they have some serious explaining to do.

Seokmin walks into the living room while adjusting the baseball cap on his head, asking if Gyu called. He trades places with his cellphone, sitting down where you slammed it on the couch and unlocks his phone to look at the follow-up text that Mingyu sent.

“You hung up on him?” your friend snorts while reading his friend’s message. “Did he say something stupid?”

“No,” you mumble to nobody in particular, “just stupidly handsome.”

“Hmm.” Seokmin tilts his head side-by-side as if he’s weighing his options. “Not sure about the handsome part. But ‘stupid’ I can agree with.”

You see him again when Seokmin returns his call, clearly this time. Plump rosy pink lips and deep smile lines that dimple his cheeks even with the laziest smile. Eyes are always looking at the center of his screen, never in the corner. They widen then shrink into comfortable semi-circles when Seokmin casually adds that you’re single after suggesting that the two of you meet when Mingyu comes back.

“Great.” Mingyu smiles while waving goodbye to the two of you. “It’s a date.”

You, awfully dumbfounded after the call and who is now stumbling towards a fuming Minghao’s car, cannot comprehend how that man is single. You just can’t.

Copyright © 2023 Wondernus. All rights reserved.

[project-v175]

Out on a Limb

Brutal fighting. That's what the wizarding world had succumbed to. Violence. All her life, she had only known the peace of magic. That changed when she became an apprentice at the ministry. She wanted to be an auror. She wanted to restore peace. He who shall not be named had ruined everything for her, and it needed to be set right. Nothing felt normal for her.. not until him.

__

Chapter 9: The Moon and Stars

The next few days played on like a record on repeat. Wake up, shower, dress, get ready for the day, meet Alastor, learn whatever trick he wanted to show her, and then hone it until she could barely think. Each and every flaw was pressed out of her. Until her clothes were muddy, her hair was matted, and she was covered in sweat. Venus nearly grew to resent the man until she saw her own progress.

Venus watched her aim become deadly. The spoken soells became so instinctual that she no longer needed to speak them. They would fire from her wand in chains of commands. She learned how to take down various Protego sheilds, nearly sending Alastor up in flames on numerous occasions. As she did, his teachings became less tense and more compassionate. His hands guided her wand through the motions over her shoulder. Those moments were bliss. Venus would look up at the man, a wode skile spreading over her too soft feature. Alastor would respond with a smile of his own. They never lasted long. Alastor quickly reminded himself of her place. His apprentice. His student. He was her teacher. These were nothing more than the admirations of a student.

Today was different. Venus had been given the day to rest and catch up on her house remodeling. It had come along quite well. The kitchen was finished, and the living room had received its last coat of paint. The house was finally suitable for visitors. Real ones. Visitors that didn't consist of her sister, Molly, or her gaggle of children. Venus pulled away all the sheets and dusted all the surfaces. Her vacuum ran for the first time in months. By the time she was finished, the place was spotless.

Her hard work had paid off. She decided to spend it lying on a picnic blanket by the water. She took her books, those both for enjoyment and learning, and began reading late into the afternoon. She sat for hours, enjoying small snacks and a glass of wine. Just as the sun set over the horizon, a soft crunch was heard behind her. She stood up. Her wand slid from its hiding place in her sleep to her hand. Venus took a few steps forward. All was silent around her. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes and listening to the world around her. Another crunch to her left. She glanced in that direct, firing out the summoning charm.

At first, a large stick like figure flew to her hands. She examined it, only to realize who it belonged to. Her eyes squinted in the darkness.

"Alastor.. were you.. watching me..?"

Alastor appeared from behind a glimmer. He hobbled forward, nearly falling before he took his staff back. "Hmph." He turned away from Venus. His magic eye glanced over her figure. "No. Why are you wearing a dress? Are you expecting someone?"

Venus looked down at her attire. She had put on a black cocktail dress in case she wanted to hop in the water, but she couldn't tell Alastor that. Especially when she had nothing on beneath it. "Ahm.. I wanted to feel pretty while I relaxed."

"Are ya expecting anyone?" Alastor turned back to Venus after looking around. He leaned down over her.

Venus smirked to herself. This was the perfect opportunity to throw him off. Purely because she wanted the amusement. "No one.. in particular.."

"What do ya mean? Is someone comin?" Alastor stood again and began to look around. He nearly missed Venus as she disappeared to the lake side.

"Well, you came. Did you not?" Venus sat back down on her blanket. She stared out over the water at the stars again. She crossed her legs and pulled her dress down.

Alastor hobbled forward. His eyebrows knitted in frustration as his lips pushed out in a frown. He stood for a moment, only sitting when Venus patted the blanket beside her. The two were silent. Only the fluttering water said anything.

"What are you doing out here?" Alastor turned towards Venus. Her voice was softer than when they were training. "I could ask the same of you."

"Me? I live out here. About a ten minute walk. It's peaceful. Enjoyable. Just how i like it. Next year, I'll get to start a farm. It's much too late to start one now." Venus glanced over at Alastor. His frown softened under the starlight. She could have sworn she saw his lips twitch in a smile.

"Mmh. Its.. its is nice. Theres a perfect view here.." Alastor looked over at Venus.

"Now.. answer my question. Why are you out here?" She pressed further, her soft eyes becoming stern.

"Testing you. Arthur said you had made a habit of coming here. I... didn't realize you lived out here. You did well. Betger than I expected ya to." Venus lofted her eyebrows in concern. Testing her? For what? He may be her mentor, but that didn't mean he got to stalk her around.

"Testing me? What? To see if i would notice? Creepy old man.." Venus turned away from Alastor with a scoff. She shifted away, now conscious of how close he had gotten to her. She could feel the heat from his body against the cool air. The longer the sun stayed hidden, the colder she felt. What she wouldn't give to dive into the water and hide from the frosty air.

"Somethin like that. I'm not that old, y'know. I'm closer to your age than you think." Alastor leaned over to Venus. A playful tone lacing his voice. It was odd to her. His normal tone was mean and rough. This was.. soft, but still as deep. It sent a tingle up her spine. A feeling she wasn't familiar with, despite her ten years learning how humans function.

"Sure, sure." Venus cleared her mind with a sigh. She rolled her eyes towards Alastor, now leaning back on her arms. "Then how old are you really?"

"I mean it. I'm only thirty-five. Not forty. " Alastor smirked as he watched the embarrassment rise to Venus's face.

"How- who told you? Was it Arthur? I swear! Those two are such trouble." Venus flopped back onto the blanket. Her arms sprawled out behind her, cradling her hair.

"Hmph." Alastor snorted out his response. "It's late, you know. You should be going home. Tomorrow, we work on stealth." Alastor pushed himself up and onto the support of his staff. He watched Venus from above. Just before he walked away, he leaned over and whispered. "I was testing your sixth sense."

Venus laid confused for a moment. She sat up in just enough time to watch Alastor disappear into a puff of gray smoke among the forming fog. She groaned at the newfound loneliness. Walking in that fog with all her belongings in hand was going to be a pain in the arse.

__

Author Note

This chapter ran away from me. I planned for one direction and a WHOLE SCENE sat before me. So angry with it.

[h0rr0rsaxo]

[ I wanna be yours. || simp party. ]

Warnings: NONE!

Tags: @insane-horror-movie-addict @cheesefanboy2

A/N: A gift for my absolute favorite moot 🫶 I really appreciate you dude, I hope you enjoy this!

𝗡𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴: "(I wanna be yours - Artic Monkeys)" 01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43 ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ ---˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹---

Word count: 2,880

"I wanna be your vacuum cleaner,

Breathing in your dust,

I wanna be your Ford Cortina," 

Varrick sat on a stool in the dimly lit bar, his fingers expertly plucking at the strings of his guitar. The audience was mesmerized by his skill, cheering and clapping along to the rhythm of the music. But Varrick's mind was elsewhere. As he sang and played, his thoughts were consumed by one person - Anni. His heart swelled with love for her, and he couldn't help but think of her every moment. Even when other girls in the bar looked at him with lustful eyes, he remained focused on Anni. She was the only one he wanted, the only one he could think of.

"I won't ever rust,

If you like your coffee hot,

Let me be your coffee pot,"

As he strummed his guitar and sang, he couldn't help but feel jealous when he saw other guys talking to her. He longed to be the only one by her side, to hold her close and never let her go. But for now, he poured all of his love and emotion into his music, hoping that somehow Anni could hear it and know just how much he loved her. The crowd continued to cheer as Varrick played on, but he was lost in his own world, lost in his love for Anni.

"You call the shots babe,

I just wanna be yours"

Varrick had been playing guitar for years, but he had never felt as inspired as he did when he met Anni. From the moment he saw her, he was captivated by her beauty and charm— the way her sassy remarks somehow made him smile more than the empty praises of the girls that simply just felt lust for him. He would spend hours writing songs about her, pouring his heart and soul into each note and melody. And every time he played those songs, he felt as though he was sharing a piece of himself with the world.

"Secrets I have held in my heart

Are harder to hide than I thought

Maybe I just wanna be yours,"

As he played in the bar that night, the audience hung on his every word, mesmerized by the raw emotion in his voice. But for Varrick, there was only one person in the room - Anni. He could see her sitting at the bar, her long hair cascading down her back as she laughed and chatted with the other patrons. Every time he caught a glimpse of her, his heart skipped a beat.

"I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours,

Wanna be yours, wanna be yours, wanna be yours."

But as the night wore on, Varrick continued to feel a twinge of jealousy. He noticed other guys approaching her, trying to win her attention. He knew they could never love her as much as he did, and the thought made him feel possessive and protective. But he didn't let his jealousy show. Instead, he poured all of his emotions into his music, hoping that Anni could hear his love ringing through every chord and melody.

"Let me be your 'leccy meter and I'll never run out,

And let me be the portable heater that you'll get cold without,"

Varrick is deeply in love with Anni and she holds a special place in his heart. Despite the attention he's receiving from other women, Varrick remains focused on Anni and can only think about her. His love for her seems to be all-consuming and he hates that he even gets jealous when he sees other guys talking to her. It's clear that his feelings for Anni are stupidly strong and he sees her as the most important person in his life.

"I wanna be your setting lotion,

Hold your hair in deep devotion 

At least as deep as the Pacific Ocean,

I wanna be yours,"

As he plays guitar and sings to the audience, his thoughts are filled with Anni and how much she means to him. It's possible that his music is a way for him to express his love for her and to let her know how much he cares— he doesn't know. The fact that he's able to stay focused on her even when other women are expressing interest in him shows just how much he values what they have, it was the one thing that kept him stabilized in this life.

"I wanna be your vacuum cleaner

Breathing in your dust

I wanna be your Ford Cortina,"

It's clear that Varrick's love for Anni is a central part of his life and it's almost like he wants to build a future with her— he wants to see her smiling with him, away from all this paranormal bullshit, in a house of their very own. It's possible that he sees her as his soulmate and someone who he wants to spend the rest of his life with. Whatever the case may be, it's clear that Varrick's love for Anni is deep and unwavering, and it's something that he cherishes above all else— he'd never tell her that though.

"I won't ever rust

I just wanna be yours,

I just wanna be yours,

I just wanna be yours."

And as the last notes of his final song echoed through the bar, Varrick looked out at the audience, feeling a sense of satisfaction and contentment that he had never felt before. Because he knew that even though there were other guys vying for her attention, Anni was the only one that truly mattered to him. 

After his show, Varrick walked off the stage to a round of applause and cheers from the audience. His heart was racing, and he couldn't wait to see Anni. He spotted her at the bar, laughing and chatting with some of the other patrons. As he made his way over to her, he couldn't help but tease her about her height— he learned it was an instant way to gain her attention.

"Hey there, little lady," he said, grinning down at her. "Did you enjoy the show?"

Anni rolled her eyes, but he could see the hint of a smile on her lips. "It was great," she said. "But you know I hate when you call me that."

Varrick then sat at the bar, slouched over with his elbows on the counter and his head in his hands. He was clearly drunk from those sips of whiskey in between kyrics, and his words were slurred as he spoke to Anni, who was standing next to him. "You know, Anni," he said, "I never really noticed how short you are. I mean, you're practically a dwarf."

Anni rolled her eyes, used to Varrick's drunken teasing. She was a petite woman, but it had never bothered her before. "Thanks for the observation, Varrick," she replied sarcastically. Varrick turned to the bartender, Lyon, and gestured for him to pass him another drink. Lyon chuckled at Varrick's behavior but obliged, pouring him a glass of whiskey. Varrick reached for the glass, but before he could take a sip, Anni quickly snatched it from his hand.

"Hey!" Varrick protested, looking at Anni in surprise.

"Payback's a bitch," she said, grinning as she brought the glass to her lips and downed the whiskey in one go. She slammed the glass down on the counter and smirked at Varrick. Varrick pouted, clearly disappointed that he didn't get to drink the whiskey. But then he leaned in close to Anni and pulled her into a heated kiss, tasting the whiskey on her lips. Anni was taken aback at first but quickly melted into the kiss, enjoying the unexpected turn of events.

Lyon watched the scene with amusement, shaking his head before turning his attention to other customers. Varrick and Anni continued to kiss, lost in the moment and the taste of whiskey on their lips. As Varrick and Anni continued to kiss, the other patrons in the bar began to take notice. Some of them cheered and whistled, while others simply smiled and went back to their own conversations. But Varrick and Anni were too lost in each other to pay much attention to anyone else.

Varrick pulled away from the kiss and looked at Anni with a mischievous grin. "You know, maybe I should tease you more often," he said, his words still slurred from the alcohol.

Anni rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile. "Don't get any ideas, Varrick," she said, playfully pushing him away.

Varrick chuckled and leaned back against the bar, taking another sip of his drink. "You know, Lyon," he said, turning to the bartender, "I think you should give Anni another glass of whiskey. She seems to like it."

Lyon raised an eyebrow, but couldn't help but laugh at Varrick's antics. "I don't think that's a good idea, Varrick," he said, shaking his head. "You two have had enough for tonight."

Varrick pouted again, but Anni just laughed and leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips. "Come on, Varrick," she said, taking his hand. "Let's go home."

On the sidelines, we had two other idiots. 

Jesse sauntered over to Fang with a charming smile on his face, his southern drawl thick as he greeted her. "Well, howdy there, miss. Name's Jesse, but you already knew that, and I couldn't help but notice your fiery attitude. Care to show me a little southern hospitality?"

Fang rolled her eyes, not impressed by Jesse's over-the-top flirting. He was the kind of guy she couldn't stand, always trying to charm his way into a girl's pants. "Sorry, cowboy," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm not interested in your southern hospitality or anything else you have to offer."

Jesse chuckled, not deterred by Fang's prickly demeanor. He leaned in a little closer, his hand reaching out to give her a playful smack on the ass. Fang squeaked in surprise and immediately retaliated with a punch to his gut. The other patrons in the bar laughed at their antics, used to their constant bickering.

"Ouch, darlin'," Jesse said, rubbing his stomach where Fang had hit him. "I didn't know you had it in you."

Fang glared at him, her cheeks flushed with anger. "Don't you dare touch me like that again, Jesse," she warned, her tone low and menacing.

Jesse just grinned, finding Fang's tsundere act more and more adorable with each passing moment. "Aw, come on now, sugar," he said, his hand still hovering near her backside. "You can't deny that you've got a nice ass. It's just begging to be smacked."

Fang's eyes narrowed, and she stepped even closer to Jesse, her fists balled up at her sides. "I swear to god, Jesse," she said through gritted teeth, "if you don't back off right now, I'm going to make you regret ever laying eyes on me."

Jesse just laughed, not intimidated in the slightest. "You're so cute when you're angry, Fang," he said, his hand finally dropping back to his side. "I think I'm starting to like you even more." That earned him yet another— punch to the gut.

As Varrick and Anni walk back to his motorcycle, Varrick starts to become increasingly affectionate towards her. He stumbles slightly as he leans in to whisper in her ear, his breath heavy with the scent of alcohol. Anni can feel his warmth radiating off of him as he tells her how much he truly loves her.

At first, Anni is taken aback by Varrick's sudden change in behavior— He's usually so reserved and snarky, but now he's clinging onto her like a lovesick puppy. Anni tries to gently push him away, but Varrick is persistent. He keeps trying to kiss her face while she dodges his advances. Anni is both surprised and amused by Varrick's sudden outburst of affection, finding it both adorable and a little bit weird.

As Varrick and Anni make their way back to his motorcycle, Varrick's behavior starts to become increasingly unusual. Varrick keeps trying to kiss Anni's face, his alcohol-laced breath hot against her skin. Anni giggles as she tries to dodge his advances, finding Varrick's behavior both adorable and amusing.  Anni tries to gently push Varrick away as he keeps trying to kiss her face, but he's being persistent. Suddenly, Anni remembers the small spray bottle she had packed in her bag. She had filled it with water and a few drops of peppermint oil, and it was specially reserved for Varrick— she had literally written his name on it. She pulls out the bottle and points the nozzle towards Varrick, spraying him with a fine mist of water— hoping to distract him from his drunken antics.

Varrick recoils in surprise, his pout turning into a look of confusion. He blinks a few times, trying to make sense of what just happened. Anni takes advantage of the moment and steps away from him, putting some distance between them.

"What the hell, Anni?" Varrick slurs, wiping the water from his face.

"Oh shut up you big baby," Anni says trying to keep a straight face— but smirks anyways, "You were getting a little too affectionate for my liking."

Varrick looks at Anni, his expression softening. "I'm sorry, Anni," he says, his voice thick with unnecessary emotion— she didn't mean to make him so emotional. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. It's just that...I really do love you."

Anni's heart skips a beat as she hears Varrick's confession. She had always wondered if there was something more between them, but she had never dared to ask. Now, here was Varrick, drunkenly confessing his love for her— before she sprays him again.

Varrick recoils in surprise, his pout turning into a look of confusion. But then, something unexpected happens. Anni leans in and kisses him back, surprising even herself. Varrick's face lights up with joy as he realizes what's happening.

In that moment, Varrick quickly turns the kiss into a full-blown make-out session. Anni can feel the heat rising in her cheeks as she gives into the passion of the moment. Anni's warm lips pressed up against his, making a tremor of indulgence pulse through his body. She rested her hand on his cheek and pushed up against him, Varrick picking her up, letting her do her bidding. She swung her leg over him, straddling his waist as she kept her lips locked on his. One hand kept her elevated, her other caressed his chest and her fingernails gently scratched across the black leather jacket clasped to his skin.

As they continue to kiss, Anni can feel Varrick's hands roaming over her body. She can feel his warmth against her skin, and it's intoxicating. For a moment, she forgets about everything else and just gives into the moment. Varrick's hands couldn't help but explore, even though his mind was still mildly against the situation he was in. His hands tingle at the touch of her soft legs, his fingers scaling up to the boundary that were her shorts. Feeling her fingernails scraping down his shirt made his heart hasten; he desperately wanted to feel those nails on his bare skin. He could taste his favorite brand of whiskey on her lips— god, he was obsessed with her.

Eventually, they break apart, panting and gasping for breath. Varrick looks at Anni, his eyes filled with love and longing. "I really do love you, Anni," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "I know I'm drunk, but I mean it."

Anni looks at Varrick, her heart filled with happiness. She had always known there was something special between them, but she had never dared to hope that Varrick felt the same way. "I love you too, Varrick," she says, smiling.

He helped her onto the back seat and climbed on himself, revving the engine and taking off down the dark, winding road. As they rode, the wind whipping through their hair, Varrick couldn't help but feel a sense of freedom and exhilaration. But he also felt something else - a deep, intense love for Anni that he couldn't hold back any longer. He pulled over to the side of the road, turned to face her, and took her in his arms.

"I love you, Anni," he said again, his voice raw and emotional. The whiskey had been really getting to him, and it was amusing to see how emotional he had been gettin, "I love you so much that all I can think about is you. I want to be yours, and only yours."

Anni's eyes widened in surprise, but then she smiled and leaned in to kiss him once again. They kissed deeply, their bodies pressed close together, and Varrick felt like he was on top of the world. After a few minutes, they pulled away from each other, both breathless and flushed. Anni looked up at him, her eyes shining with love.

"I love you too, Varrick," she said. "I've loved you since the moment I met you."

They climbed back onto the motorcycle, holding on to each other tightly as they rode back to Varrick's place. And as they pulled up to the front door, they knew that they were meant to be together.

[just-horrible-things]

‘Verse: BBU Story: A Girl Called Spider Timeline: shortly before Spider’s sale

Avon [First | Prev | Next]

WRU Pets are all the rage at the moment. Whitman has a doe-eyed little mouse of a thing on his arm at every party. Camberley has a bonded pair, a boy and a girl with identical bone-white, razor-straight haircuts. Senator Julie dolls hers up in statement dresses and lets her drink cocktails and swan around like a socialite herself. 

Avon can’t quite see the point. Keeping an animal in one’s home is already more hassle than he’s prepared to put up with, keeping an entire human being seems like too much work entirely. WRU’s products are all charming and fuckable, of course, but the city has no shortage of charming, fuckable girls and boys ready to jump into the bed of a man like Avon. All he needs to do is visit a club or two wearing designer clothes and a nice Rolex – he owns more expensive watches, but the Rolexes are the most widely recognised – and within an hour or two he has his pick of bright young things to take home for a night of fun with no need to provide for their needs any further than breakfast the next day.

He doesn’t need a Pet. But people recommend them to him, and then they ask him why he doesn’t get one, and then they start talking behind his back about why he isn’t interested. His finances aren’t stable enough to afford one. He’s a bleeding heart liberal. He’s not virile enough to want one. He thinks he’s better than the kind of person who owns a Pet.

It’s that last one that makes the difference.

Avon couldn’t care less what the gossipmongers think about his sex life. And there are plenty of other, less inconvenient ways to splash a little cash and alleviate any concerns about the state of his finances. But if fragile, vain men like Camberley start thinking that Avon is looking down his nose at them… well, that could be a problem.

He looks at Domestics first. If he has to have a Pet around it may as well work for its keep. Perhaps he could let the housekeeper go. But it’s not Domestics that are in fashion. Cursory investigation shows that they are trained to completely different mannerisms, and they’d never pass for a Romantic. They are also much cheaper, which will not do.

When Avon expresses his concerns to the chirpy young man on the WRU helpline, the fellow manages to sound genuinely delighted to offer solutions.

“By default our Romantics ship with enough domestic training to clean up after themselves and help out around the home. They can prepare simple meals to feed themselves from the fridge and pantry, and assist with everyday tasks like laundry, washing up, dusting and vacuum cleaning.

“If you require more in depth housekeeping, please consider a Combination Pet. It sounds like a Romantic-Domestic Combination would be perfect for you. I believe we have a few in the catalogue at present, but adding Domestic training to a Romantic trainee only takes a few extra weeks. If you’d like to browse the Romantic catalogue and pick one that appeals to you, we can transfer him or her to Combination training immediately.”

“What about if I want one of your Domestics?” Avon inquires. He doesn’t, particularly. He’s simply curious. “Could you train one of them as a Romantic as well?” “Of course, sir,” the youngster answers brightly. “Did one catch your eye? I’m afraid Romantic training takes longer – up to a year depending on the Pet, although we usually estimate three to six months – but it is completely possible. Would you like me to transfer you to our Training Manager to discuss particulars?” “Not today, thank you,” Avon replies. “I’ll do some more browsing first. Thank you, and goodbye.”

[Next]

[yellowfingcr]

Black, black, black- then light, brutal and sudden, as Heysel emerges from sleep like a diver out of breath, or a woman out of time. And the first thing her wide open eyes see, crisscrossing her sight in wooden brown, is the ceiling of her shack.

‘Her shack’ is a duo of words that lies empty of true possessiveness. It is merely the place she’s been staying and studying in, a corner half collapsed, half containing the collated memories of her last year of research. Nonetheless it is the closest thing she has to a home. Nonetheless, she cannot remember carrying herself here.

She blinks. Swallows air. Tries to stumble back down the path of memories: the blind walk through the gap, the landing outside it, hurting and unshackled, the gleeful loss of consciousness. And then-

There you are, says the Lord’s gravel voice, from somewhere. Welcome back among the living.

Heysel, flinching, immediately tries to push herself into a sitting position, and only half succeeds.

No, no. Careful. Take it easy.

The floorboards groan under the weight of his steps, his sword-cut shape not so much entering her view as obliterating it. From her spot on the ground, there is no end to his limbs.

Mercifully, he folds himself down to a kneel.

Here. Drink a little, he continues, proffering a small bowl, filled with water. She complies, eager. Brings the rim to her mouth, and takes two small sips.

How long have I been out?, she asks at last, her voice dusty with slumber still.

Two days, he replies.

Two days?

Two days spent in the dark. Two days in her own little nothing. The unexceptional void of sleep.

She takes another sip.

Did you take me here?

Yes.

How, um. How did you even know where to take me? Have you been following me after lessons?

Perhaps.

She stares, puzzled.

I was curious.

That’s fine. I mean. I just- thought I’d hidden my steps better. Gods, I’ve even set traps.

You did your best. But I’ve lived long, he offers, which isn’t much of an answer at all. She will take it.

So. How do you feel?

She has to think about it.

Exhausted. Electrified. I have… never met such a thing before in my life. Never like this, at least.

The Lord listens.

You could make a god out of it. That experience.

Some have, he smiles, smaller than small.

I can’t wait to do it again. I must. 

You will. Two walks is the customary amount before deeming someone properly learned. But the only thing you must do now is recover. Let your flesh rest.

She nods, absent-minded, and for a while that’s all there is- silence, stillness. The quiet chirp of birds, outside. Motes of dust dancing in the dim light. The blanket over her knees. Tufts of grass poking between floorboards, bending under the weight of themselves. The Lord, so easily turning into a statue of a man. And this, the awareness of this, this delicate peace of being, touches her senses with utmost gentleness. 

But it is made so gentle because Heysel remembers so very well the fragile instrument of herself brushing with the void and she remembers so very well the cataclysm of that contact. Entropy’s kiss, denier of structure, its fingers pushing between the threads of all she was. Whispering to the magnetosphere of her molecules an assertion of prophecy truth: All things are real because there is the un-real. All things have mass and sense because there is undisputed vacuum. All things living and true seek to create more of themselves. Nothingness does as well.

I have a question, says the Lord, splintering the silence, disturbing her pondering.

Heysel blinks.

Why did you come to me? Please.

Please, he means, tell me a thing that isn’t so embellished with omissions to be a pretty-masked lie.

She bites her lip, pensive. Lowers her hands, cradling the bowl, still, in her lap.

I am an assassin. This I have never told you so clearly, but… I’m sure you already knew, what with the traps, the hiding my steps. Know too that I’ve always been charmed by rupture. Something about the reduction of a complexity to its simplest shape. It applied to mechanisms. It applied to people. Violence was a fine tool in both cases. In most cases. Those who knew and loved me saw in this forma mentis, reasonably, perhaps hopefully, a place in the killing business. And because I also enjoyed my magic lessons, there you had it: an ideal Sellian assassin.

Once I was given my killing leathers I understood very rapidly that I was now involved in a game of fundamental subtraction. I would have taken away, but I needed to expect the same treatment done to myself. So I started elaborating theories to rig this game, to come out winner no matter what. Yes. I was young, and I had quite the excess of free time.

My first one I called the theory of bones. If I allowed nothing beyond the essential in my life and in me, then nothing could have been taken from me, because then any deduction would have meant my death. But this also would have meant a lifetime of scarcity. I would have starved myself of opportunity for pleasure, for experience, out of an attempt to not have one inch of myself unarmored, to be a skeleton of unbreachable steel. I would have had to be more hunger than woman. Fascinating, but untenable.

Mercifully, I grew out of this, and embraced the titleless chaos logic of everyday life. I would have suffered what I had to suffer and loved what I could have loved. I left behind any attempt at formalizing my life hypotheses, and simply enjoyed what I could. I took people I fancied to my bed, I shed blood, I bought paintings and books and orange trees with what I earned. And I understood that all of this could have been taken from me, at any moment.

Well. It happened. I died. Which would have been fine if I’d stayed dead, which I didn’t.

And when I crawled out of my grave and under the Erdtree’s light, I was… I don’t know how to describe it. The emptiness that beheld me. Nothing of what I knew left. Sellia gone. My family gone. The world, moving on without me. Me, excised from history. I was appalled. I was elated. I was smitten. That absence could be so absolute. That I could be made nothing. Less than my very own simplest shape. The horror and beauty of it. The moment the fog receded from my brain I set to stitching together a rag of a theory. Something to keep myself afloat. A sail of sorts. No larger than a handkerchief.

I called this one many names. Theory of scars, theory of wounds. The words describing it are irrelevant. It goes as thus: scar is absence filled twice. And I mean that yes you can bleed, and suffer, but the organic law of flesh states that it will knit itself again, and overzealously so. Scars protrude just so from the skin. Memory made armor.

All that cuts you you can survive and grow stronger from and against. I would have endured this too. I’d been flayed raw and open by the enormity of absence that had touched me, but I would have scarred.

The Lord lifts a hand. Bring it to her skull, caressing it back and forth quietly and carefully, like he was stroking the fragile bones of a dove. Or a finch. And Heysel, staring far away, only goes on.

I loved the idea. Relished it. I imagined myself crosshatched with pale lines, becoming thicker and thicker the more I moved through time. Experiencing and never breaking. Only growing outward, laminating myself out of my own closed wounds, horrifying and free. And- hah. Did you know there is a species of frog that snaps its own little feet? The broken bone punches through the skin of the toe, and so it is that they make claws out of it. Weapons out of their shattering. Shattering they bring onto themselves, fearlessly. If I’d broken again, my cicatrized flesh defeated momentarily, it didn’t matter- I knew I would have been all sharp protrusions, then. Teeth without a mouth. A blade without hilt. Nothing for no one to grip. Just cutting. Only cutting. Yes. Yes.

So I had to feel the void again. To see if I was ready, this time. If I’d grown enough scars. If I could meet it, truly and well as a bride meets her spouse, place it in my mouth like a kiss, hide it under my skin. To understand it. To... not win, but tender my apologies, tell it let’s try again, I can do it now, look, I made theories, I have number and cicatrix, I can welcome you. But I cannot say I’m sure I was ready. Does this- does this make sense? Am I saying something reasonable?

Silence falls between them.

I’m sorry, she continues, after a little. She doesn’t know why she’s apologizing at all.

He only stares. Angles his head, then, so that his cold cheek rests on top of her hair, for a moment, two, one long arm circling her, an unconcluded question of an embrace, then that is all, arm and head and stone feeling retract, and she knows that even if she could swear she’d seen a heavy something curl in his eye before he closed it she’ll never hear his mouth speak what he’d thought in that slim fraction of a second.

Instead he says, You are. It is.

Truly you are a scholar through and through.

And then he says:

I have another question for you. 

[seecarrun]

I Slipped Away

For as long as Richie could remember, the first and third Saturday mornings of the month in the Tozier household were reserved for chores.

Maggie would open up all the windows, Went would turn on the stereo loud enough to be heard all through the house, and each member of the family would march off in different directions, brandishing brushes, rags, spray bottles, feather dusters, mops, or vacuums, not to return to the central location until their mission was accomplished or to pick up more ammunition.

It horrified Richie as he got older; his parent's vehemence on their Saturday morning chores no matter the fucking circumstance, even when his friends had stayed the night on Friday and got roped into the routine in the morning as well, but the guys always made clear how little they actually minded.

Bill, their fearless leader, always ready to help out whenever he could, Stan, who would honestly clean just for the joy of it, and of course Eddie, who immediately jumped at any and all opportunities to stay over just a little longer than his mother originally insisted, and how could even Sonia Kaspbrak find fault in her sweet boy wanting to help out around his best friend's house?

And so, Richie drags his feet and whines and complains, but completes his chores, and it always goes faster than he expects, so before he knows it, he's being released and tearing through the neighborhood once again.

It's just Eddie over this morning; the sneaky little shit had followed Richie home directly after school, inviting himself to stay for dinner, and ultimately to spend the night as well. He had managed to charm Went and Maggie years ago, so there was no argument on their part, and after a tense phone call to his mom just after curfew about how it would actually be the irresponsible thing to go home now that it had just gotten dark, Eddie was in the clear.

They'd stayed up way too late eating way too much junk food and playing way too violent video games way too loud, a stark difference to the current bright and sunny, airy, Tozier kitchen with Maggie in her eternal battle against the grease stains on the stovetop, and the boys putting away the freshly washed dishes as the radio reminds them all they're listening to WKIT, playing all the best hits of the 70's, 80's, and today!

The advertisement ends and a familiar tune begins, just in time for Went to come bopping into the kitchen, spinning a feather duster between his fingers like a baton and whistling along to the music, a playful glint behind his glasses.

Maggie susses him out immediately, spinning on her heel to point at him threateningly. "Do not," she warns, but Went just keeps dancing over to her without breaking his stride.

"I looked out this morning and the sun was gone," he sings, swaying over to Maggie and brandishing the feather duster like a microphone. "Turned on some muusic to start my day. I lost myself in a familiar sooong. I closed my eeeeyes and I slipped awaaaaay."

"Went," Maggie sighs, the barest hint of a smile creeping onto her lips. Across the kitchen island, both Richie and Eddie giggle as Went turns his feather duster microphone into a guitar and starts strumming along.

"It's more than a feeling!" he cries, making Maggie groan in faux embarrassment.

"More than a feeling!" Richie echos, joining his dad excitedly though his giggles, making Eddie groan out in embarrassment along with Maggie.

"When I hear that old song they used to play," he goes on, unabashedly, and Maggie covers her face to hide her giant, obvious grin and shakes her head, Richie chiming in with all of his perfectly timed and overdramatic More than a feeling!'s right on cue, sending Eddie into absolute hysterics, which was Richie's goal all along.

(Like father, like son.)

"I begin dreaming!"

"More than a feeling!"

"Till I see Maggie-Ann walk awaaaay!" Went belts out, emphasizing the slight name change, just in case Maggie somehow missed him practically screaming it across the kitchen. "I see my Maggie-Ann walkin' awaaaaay..." he croons, sliding up next to her and wiggling his eyebrows.

Maggie attempts to bite the smile right off her lips and fails miserably, gazing up at him, fond and amused. "You are a nut," she tells him, simply. "My middle name isn't even Ann."

"Eh. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to," he chuckles, pecking her once on her bemused lips before shaking the feather duster in Richie's face, causing him to sputter and gag at all the dust, just to get Eddie laughing again, and saunters back out of the room, continuing to play the feather duster like a guitar and singing along to the radio as he disappears out of sight.

Maggie tuts tenderly at the whole event and turns back to the still laughing boys, shaking her head. "These Tozier men are a handful, Eddie dear," she says simply. "Run while you can."

And Richie doesn't have time to think about what the fuck his mom means by that, before Eddie is shrugging, a faint, barely there blush dusting his cheeks, and says, crytpically, "I think I can handle that."

Richie blinks after him, his mouth agape, as Eddie crosses the room to help Maggie with the stove grease.

Eventually, he clears his throat, returning to halfheartedly stacking plates in the cabinets and trying not to dwell too hard about what just happened between his mom and Eddie, no matter what his traitorous heart insists on thinking.

Under his breath, he sings along softly as the song comes to an end, "When I'm tired and thinking cold I hide in my music, forget the day. And dream of a girl I used to know, I closed my eyes and she slipped away..."

[ratsoh-writes]

Okay, so let's assume the boys have an activity they would prefer not to do. It could be helping someone move or clearing out their garage. They don't want to do it but if they were bribed, they could. What would said bribing item be for the main ten?

How about everybody?? ;))

Sans: he HATES laundry. The only way you can get him to do laundry is is to nag to tears for days straight. Literally. This is why papyrus nags so much. Sans is unbribable

Papyrus: honestly this guy will agree to just about anything legal if he likes someone. He’s not the biggest fan of dusting though. It’s a boring chore. If you really want to bribe him, a hug is enough. Papyrus doesn’t need convincing to do a less favored chore

Star: he really dislikes making the bed because he’s impatient and the sheets never look right. A SO can get him excited to do that chore with just a meaningful wink though. Or if you’re just a friend, promise some sugary sweet. Star is another agreeable guy

Honey: he hates scrubbing the toilet. He’s a skeleton monster! He shouldn’t have to do that!!! Honey can be bribed with doughnuts though.

Red: there’s only two people that can get red to do something he doesn’t want to. Edge and his SO. And it doesn’t matter what it is (besides murder). If his SO lays a leg on his shoulder red is ready to work lol

Edge: there isn’t really any chore that edge hates. A good bribe though is a new pen or notebook. Yes he has too many, but he can’t say no to another lol

Mal: he’s not a fan of yard work or any chore that’s especially dirty. He can be bribed with a jar of pickles. Only people who know him very well know his weakness

Cash: he’ll do anything for his SO if they flashed them some cleavage ;))). Or extra hot salsa for a buddy. Or just pay him honestly. Cash is no stranger to hard work and isn’t hard to convince for any job

Oak: a sandwich. But not any sandwich. It has to be one of those ones that are so thick it hurts your jaw to take a bite out. This bribe works for everything except laundry.

Willow: the majority of chores that one would have to bribe him for are ones that would really strain his back. Do you want that on your conscious?? Other than that, if willow likes you, a hug is all he needs. If he doesn’t like you, then something useful like jars or diy supplies

Charm: he hates the dishes and refuses to do them if he’s not on the job. Charm can only be bribed to do those with some sort of shiny new kitchen supply like a mixer or frosting tips

Sugar: he’s very eager to please and will do just about anything for a friend. If you absolutely insist on bribing sugar though, flowers are the way to go.

Lord: he can only be bribed by friends, but once you reach that point it’s not too hard. A promise of coffee or an old history book usually works

Mutt: only his brother or SO can truly get him to do something he doesn’t want to. And they don’t need to bribe him ever. Mutt just does it. If his SO asks what he wants for the favor, he always gives the same answer. A cheek kiss

Wine: he won’t be happy about any sort of dirty jobs like pool cleaning, but he can be bribed to help if you give him a bottle of the good stuff ;).

Coffee: nothing can get him to do anything involving greeting a bunch of strangers. But any other work coffee won’t mind too much if you’re a close friend and promising ice cream later

Pop: he’s a little bit scared of the vacuum and will avoid that chore at all costs. But bring him a nice bubble bath mix and he might be convinced

Rhythm: the only thing keeping this guy from helping every one is his busy schedule. Rhythm doesn’t need bribes but if you insist, he likes frozen yogurt

Pluto: if he likes you and you come bearing shiny rocks, he’ll happily help with whatever lol

Jupiter: he hates long drives if there’s no fun destination. So, say someone wanted him to come with them to a shopping center two hours away, Jupiter will need to be bribed. Bruiser likes really big cheeseburgers, or for especially annoying tasks, a promise of something fun and active like paintball

G: the only thing that can get G to wash windows is a pack of his smokes. And it has to be the exact brand he always picks. Nothing else. He’ll be offended if you don’t offer his usual

Green: he doesn’t like using power washers because he always gets wet. But green can be bribed to use one with the promise of some nice tea and conversation

Peaches: he can’t stand feeding the chickens but peaches is also a food whore. He’ll do just about anything for some good pie

Rancher: he actually enjoys work and doesn’t have to be bribed for chores. He doesn’t like sitting through romance movies though and needs time be bribed to watch one with a friend. Rancher is pretty easy, just promise that he picks next activity

Snipe: he’s pretty much unbribable if he decides he doesn’t want to do it. But for things snipe isn’t being stubborn on, greasy fast food burgers go a long way lol

Bruiser: what he can be bribed with is just as unpredictable as he is. Like one day, bruiser could care less about that 100$ bill but the bag of catnip could get him to rob a bank. You never know unless you try

Ace: thin mint cookies. Ace would even rough up a guy for them. But they can’t be any cookies. They have to be the ones butch is hiding. Ace doesn’t actually care about the cookies, he just wants to stick it to butch

Slim: a flirtatious text or photo from his SO is all slim needs to get working. If you two are platonic only though, then there’s not much you can bribe slim with. His helpfulness all depends on his mood

Butch: he’s very easily bribed with either thin mints or a bottle of the good stuff. Butch is predictable, and there’s not much he hates doing in particular

Boss: one thing he does hate doing is painting because of how it can stain his clothes. But if you have a cat that boss hasn’t met, you can bribe him with some promised pets later

Rust: he’s a tiny bit nicer than red and can be bribed by friends. Get him some basic craft paints and he’s cool for most chores.

Noir: he’s very specific about his paints and books so bribing noir takes planning. Your best bet is to ask him specifically what he wants for a favor first.

Lilac: he’s more likely to be helpful just because he’s a nice guy and wants to show off how capable he is. But if you insist on bribing lilac, any sort of sweets are the way to go. Except really chewy gummies. They’re his least favorite candy

Basil: if your task involves large crowds, then the only thing that could possibly get basil to agree is if he was worried about your safety. For other chores though, he’s easily bribed by fresh fruits and veggies. Basil likes variety

[fortheloveofwonderland]

I wanna be yours - arctic monkeys spencer x reader

Another great song Anon, thank you!

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner

Breathing in your dust

I wanna be your Ford Cortina

I will never rust

If you like your coffee hot

Let me be your coffee pot

You call the shots, babe

I just wanna be yours

From the moment Spencer Reid laid eyes on you, he wanted nothing more than to be with you. The day you were introduced to the team by Hotch, Spencer knew you were different from any other woman he’d ever met before.

He wanted you. He needed you. But Spencer wasn’t so adept at talking to women, least of all ones as beautiful as you.

He wasn’t smooth like Morgan. He didn’t have Rossi’s charm or Hotch’s confidence.

Elle had once told him the reason he couldn’t get a date was because he’d never asked someone on a date.

That had been several years ago and he still hadn’t managed to actually ever ask someone out.

Secrets I have held in my heart

Are harder to hide than I thought

Maybe I just wanna be yours

As the months went on Spencer’s attraction towards you only grew. You were not only beautiful, you were smart and kind and interesting.

He hung off your every word that left your lips as though his life depended on it.

He wrote the book of you in his mind. He painted portraits of you across his heart. He wished he could say something, tell you how his feelings for you grew everyday.

But of course he couldn’t. He could never find the right words to tell you he thought you were the most magnificent being he’d ever met. How he hungered to be yours.

So he’d kept it bottled up. He tried to be normal around you and not give away his secret desires.

The rest of the team knew. Secrets were hard to keep from profilers.

They’d all seen the way he looked at you, the way he got tongue tied around and how he blushed when you smiled at him.

I wanna be yours

I wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

“Pretty boy’s got it bad.” Morgan smiled to himself watching Spencer fall over his words as he tried to talk to you.

“Oh the kid certainly has a crush alright.” Rossi glanced up over the case file.

“Do you think Y/N knows?” JJ added.

“I don’t think so.” Emily shook her head. “I think they are both as clueless as each other.”

“Who’s clueless?” Hotch strolled over at the end of the conversation.

“The kids.” Rossi nodded his head in you and Spencer’s direction.

“They still haven’t figured it out?” Hotch shook his head.

“I think they may need some divine intervention.” Garcia grinned mischievously.

Let me be your 'leccy meter

And I'll never run out

Let me be the portable heater

That you'll get cold without

I wanna be your setting lotion

Hold your hair in deep devotion (I'll be)

At least as deep as the Pacific Ocean

Now I wanna be yours

“Y-you uh...you look r-really...nice.” Spencer tried not to blush as he spoke into your ear to be heard over the crowds in the bar.

You tried to hide your own blush at his words.

“Oh,” you chewed your lip. “Thank you. So do you.”

“I look the same as I always do.” Spencer shrugged.

“Well,” you croaked. “Maybe you always look r-really...nice.”

“Oh god.” Morgan put his head in his hands. “Someone do something please.”

“It’s hard to watch.” JJ pulled a face.

“Yet I can’t look away.” Emily added.

“Like a car crash.” Rossi agreed.

“Where’s baby girl?” Morgan looked around not spotting the bubbly blonde.

“I think she’s putting the wheels of her master plan in motion.” JJ smirked.

Secrets I have held in my heart

Are harder to hide than I thought

Maybe I just wanna be yours

Spencer actually thought he was doing a good job of keeping his feelings for you under wraps. He had no idea the rest of the team were privy to his feelings.

He also had no idea they were formulating a plan.

His secret was about to be out.

Garcia took a deep breath across the bar, hoping this would work. It could go one of two ways really. But she just had to hope Spencer would step up. Maybe this would be the push he needed.

I wanna be yours

I wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

Wanna be yours

The man made his approach the way Garcia had instructed him to. He sidled up the bar right next to you, looking you up and down.

You didn’t even seem to notice, you were completely wrapped up in a conversation with Spencer. When the two of you got talking it was as though you were the only two people in the world.

“Excuse me?” he tapped you on the shoulder, making you jump a little. “Sorry to bother you but I noticed you across the bar and I wondered if I could buy you a drink?”

You stared at him wide eyed as though you’d just been woken up from a deep sleep.

“Uhm…” you swallowed.

“Oh god I’m so sorry.” The man laughed. “Is this your boyfriend?”

You looked at Spencer and then back at the man, shaking your head.

“N-no. He's just a coworker.”

Just a coworker.

Spencer’s heart ached at your words and he pouted his bottom lip.

“Oh great, so can I buy you a drink?”

Just a coworker. Ouch.

“Pretty boy.” Morgan came to his side and patted his shoulder. “This is your chance.”

“W-what?” He frowned at Morgan.

“We all know you’ve got a crush on her.” Morgan laughed. “Stand up for your girl.”

It could go one way or the other. Garcia’s plan for her friend to make a move on you in the hopes it would make Spencer step up to the plate could come crashing down if Spencer did nothing.

“I-I…”

“Don’t,” JJ stepped forward. “Don’t try and pretend. This is your shot Spence, go get her.” she nudged him in the arm.

Spencer swallowed and turned back to where you were talking to the man. He felt sick. He couldn’t stand the idea of you with someone who wasn’t him.

“What do you want, kid?” Rossi was now at his side.

Spencer didn’t take his off of you as he spoke again.

“Her. I want her. I want to be hers.”

“Then make it happen.”

With his friends words of encouragement in his ears he swallowed again trying to grasp at any shred of confidence he could find.

And then he stepped forward.

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner (Wanna be yours)

Breathing in your dust (Wanna be yours)

I wanna be your Ford Cortina (Wanna be yours)

I will never rust (Wanna be yours)

“Sorry to interrupt.” Spencer stepped between the two of you, his legs shaking. “But I am not just a coworker.”

You turned to face him with a slight look of confusion on your face.

You missed the man giving Garcia a wink over your head.

“What do you mean?” you chewed your lip awkwardly.

“I mean I guess I am just your coworker. But I don’t want to be. I want to b-be...I w-want…” he swallowed again. “I want to be yours.”

A blush crept to your cheeks. His words made your heart swell.

“Really?” you asked tentatively.

“Really.” he nodded.

Your face broke out into a large smile.

“I w-want to be yours too.”

“Thank god.” Garcia laughed, nudging her friend in the arm. “Your work here is done my friend.”

“Well played Garcia.” Emily gave her a smile.

“Just call me divine intervention.”

I just wanna be yours (Wanna be yours)

I just wanna be yours (Wanna be yours)

I just wanna be yours (Wanna be yours)

[bffsoobin]

Apartment 370

↳everything about your apartment was perfect. Aside from your neighbor. Choi Soobin has become the bane of your existence. You can’t go a single day without looking over your shoulder for your misleadingly handsome neighbor. Just how many petty pranks does he think he can get away with?

➤ enemies to lovers!au, neighbors!au, arguments, petty behavior, swearing, fluff

Word Count: 3,062

Requested?: yes

Warnings: none really other than swearing and Soobin kind of being an ass. I also didn’t proof read or edit this, as per usual.

A/N: To be honest I’m feeling a little unsure about this? I loved the concept and I’m very glad that a lovely follower requested it but I feel like lately all of my writing has started out really well and then just got progressively worse? Like all of the endings I write are just kind of lame? Just a weird insecurity I’ve been encountering lately. So please leave me some feedback on what you think about this!

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

You loved your apartment. It was small, but just right for you to live in. The shower had hot water, your bedroom had a beautiful window for your plants to sit on and the wifi connection was always working well. You even only had to travel up two flights of stairs if your elevator stopped working. There were a lot of pros to living at your complex. But there was one, massive, glaring and obnoxiously loud con. Choi Soobin. When he had moved in next to you, you tried to be nice. You knocked on his door and introduced yourself; making some kind of lame joke about borrowing sugar. 

He didn’t laugh. He just introduced himself back and apologized for not having any sugar. Apologized? Had he really missed the joke that bad? Your delivery had been impeccable. Despite his charming face and annoyingly adorable style, you decided there was no way you could be friends with someone who didn’t understand a classic joke. 

Soobin must have decided there was a reason he didn’t like you either, because just about a week into being neighbors he began to wreak havoc. He played music as loud as it possibly could be at the weirdest times of the day and yelled at his television way too much no matter what he was watching. It seemed like every day you had to storm over and knock on his door to complain. This went on for weeks until he finally agreed to stop when you threatened to involve your burly landlord in the matter. 

For a few days, you enjoyed peace and quiet. You came and went from work without seeing him, took naps in silence and remembered how it felt to cook in your own kitchen without the sound of a twenty something year old man screaming at reruns of Survivor as background music. 

As they say, ignorance is bliss, because little did you know Soobin’s silence was about to erupt into a new, massive volcano of stupidity. One night you woke up around 4 am to the sound of scratching coming from the wall that connected your and Soobin’s bedrooms. You were already annoyed at the fact that you had to be up at 7am to pick up an early shift for your slacking coworker, so you didn’t have it in you to just roll over and go back to bed. You couldn’t have if you wanted to anyway because the scratching noises were only getting more and more persistent. You flung yourself out of bed with a groan. Pets were allowed here, and it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that Soobin had gotten a cat who decided to be a little extra scratchy. 

You poured yourself a glass of water in the kitchen, hoping to clear your mind and sort your thoughts. In the silence of the night, you could hear Soobin’s panicked voice through the thin walls. It sounded like he was on the phone with someone, as you could hear pauses as if he were listening to someone else. What a weird fucking dude, you thought. With eyes still drooping you walked back to your bedroom. The cat would have to be done scratching at the wall by now, right?

Wrong. The same consistent noise that would surely haunt your dreams still persisted. Knowing Soobin was awake gave you enough grounds to throw on a sweatshirt over your sleep clothes and go knock on his door. 

When it swung open, you could see just how distraught he was. His usually fluffy hair was flat and knotted and his eyes were sporting huge dark circles that only made the panic in them amplified. Wait, panic?  

“Y/N, I’m really sorry but you need to leave,” he had the door open just far enough to stick his head and shoulders out, as if he were trying to hide something. 

“No, Soobin. I heard your cat scratching at the wall and it’s annoying the hell out of me. I can’t sleep. Can’t you lock it in the bathroom or something?” His face scrunched in confusion. 

“A cat? I don’t have a cat.” Your insides boiled with hatred at the idea of him trying to lie his way out of this. 

“Listen up Choi. Unless you have a dragon in your bedroom scratching the shit out of the walls, I don’t want to deal with your lies. Just take care of it! I need my beauty sleep and you and your noisy cat aren’t helping at all.” Soobin’s face paled and for a second you thought that you had finally won. And then Soobin said:

“It’s not a cat. It’s a racoon.” 

You almost fell onto your ass right in the hallway. Soobin’s eyes sparked with a type of mirth you never thought such an admittedly gorgeous face could possess. 

“I’m calling the landlord.” You snapped the door shut in his face and turned away.

That had apparently been the final straw for Soobin. The next day when you got back from work, you found a handwritten “RACOON HATER” sign taped to your door. What you found inside was somehow even more unsettling. Your whole living room and kitchen had been essentially trashed. Throw pillows and blankets were thrown haphazardly on the floor, many of your photos and art you had on the walls were switched around or taken down altogether. And the worst of it all; everything was covered in a fine dust of glitter. It was a struggle to find a single surface that wasn’t covered in glitter, really. 

A new type of dislike for Choi Soobin brewed in your stomach. Hatred. Your kitchen counter- also covered in a dust of chunky silver glitter- became the victim of your frustrations as you slammed your hands down. It would cost you so much time and money to get all the glitter out of your living spaces, let alone the fact that you'd inevitably be leaving some behind for the next poor soul to rent this apartment. Gritting your teeth, you went to work with your poor little vacuum. 

You had only managed to clean your coffee table and half of your couch before you heard a series of loud knocks on your door. You grumbled at the idea of having to take a pause in your work but you trudged over to the door anyway. 

To be honest, you had no idea who you were expecting to see behind your apartment door-which you belatedly realized was still decorated with Soobin’s handmade sign- but you didn’t think it would be the man himself. 

Soobin stood in the hallway, picture perfect as always. His face was tan and smooth and free from any possible blemishes. Had he plucked his eyebrows? They were groomed to neat perfection. His tall frame was dwarfed by a fuzzy blue sweatshirt that was easily a size too big. If you had met him by chance on the street, you would have fallen in love in an instant. But you knew better. You knew he was the one who reduced your once lovely apartment into the mess it was now.

“Oh, sorry,” he feigned innocence, “are you busy?” He didn’t even try to hide the smirk that blossomed on his face. A grumble of a curse fell from your lips before you responded. 

“Yeah. Some asshole decided to break into my apartment and spread glitter on everything. So yes, I’m sort of busy,” you laced your voice with enough venom to kill a horse, and it seemed as if Soobin had gotten the message as he shrunk back into the hallway a bit. His mouth opened and shut in rapid succession as he struggled to find the perfect retort. 

“I-” he cut himself off as his soft eyes became hyper focused on a spot on your face. Suddenly you were a new combination of concerned and offended. His hand hesitantly rose toward your face before the softness of his fingertips made contact with your cheek and brushed something away. You held your breath the entire time, unsure if you should be upset or worried or utterly lost in the way his skin felt against yours. The contact was brief but still made your skin burn bright red. When his hand left your cheek, you saw that he had brushed away a piece of glitter that was now resting delicately on his fingertip. 

“Sorry,” he hurried out, “I just wanted to get the glitter off of your face.” His whole demeanor had changed, and you were sure that whatever plan he had in mind when he knocked on your door had vanished. 

“Okay, weirdo,” you tried to ignore the way you were yearning to feel his touch again, “I’m still busy so can you like, go away?” Upon hearing your words he turned away to head for his apartment door with ears as red as you’d ever seen them. 

Although the glitter incident was now months behind you, you still often found pieces in random spots around your home. And Soobin was still a pain in your ass. He had been quiet for close to two weeks after your odd encounter and you were almost convinced that he had changed his ways. You were quickly proven wrong when he conned the man who works the front desk into hiding your mail for a week straight; making you subsequently late to paying some of your bills. 

More recently, a new person had moved into the apartment across the way. The first day you met him, you were busying yourself with taping up Soobin’s door with bright pink duct tape from the outside. Your new neighbor-who you learned to be named Yeonjun- had squatted down right next to you and offered to help tear pieces of the tape. 

You and Yeonjun had become fast friends. He was incredibly charming and willing to lend an ear every time you needed to complain about Soobin. For a while, you were almost able to forget the fact that the devil incarnate lived next door to you. While your work schedules tended to be a little crazy, the two of you managed to talk for at least a few minutes every day. He helped you gain some sanity back within your apartment hallway. 

Despite also being friends with Soobin, Yeonjun never took sides in your little feud; but you were always secretly worried that somehow Soobin would put a bug in his ear. One day, about two months after Yeonjun had moved in, he knocked on your door while you were in the middle of making dinner. You invited him in but he hesitated. 

“I just came to talk to you,” he bit into his bottom lip, “I really like you. But I don’t see us ever being more than friends. I hope you understand.” You scrunched your eyebrows. Where was this coming from? 

“Uh okay? I know that. I don’t like you...like that, Yeonjun. Did you hit your head or something?” You were seriously confused. Yeonjun’s eyes widened comically. 

“Well Soobin said that-“ as soon as the words fell out of his mouth Yeonjun put together the invisible puzzle pieces. His face morphed into extreme regret.  “I’m so sorry. I should have known it was part of your weird prank war. You should have seen how convincing his acting is though, he really had me thinking you had a crush on me.” You scoffed at the idea of Soobin beginning to spread rumors to one of your closest friends just for the hell of it. If Yeonjun hadn’t been mature enough to address it right away, you could have gone through weeks of confusion about why he was avoiding you.

You looked back at your kitchen, catching sight of the steaming bowl of ramen you’d just finished making. Sighing, you shut your door behind you to stand in the hall with Yeonjun. He looked sheepish in your presence as you laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m not mad at you, Yeonjun. I’m going to talk to the bane of my existence,” you gestured toward the door with the shiny ‘370’ plaque. “Just don’t bother calling the landlord if you hear yelling.” As soon as you heard the sound of Yeonjun’s door snapping shut, you laid into Soobin’s door with a heavy knock. As soon as it was opened far enough, you wedged your body inside and subsequently sent Soobin stumbling backwards. 

“How dare you?” You roared, throwing your hands in the air dramatically. “I’m fine with your petty pranks and all the other stupid shit you pull against me because that’s all between the two of us. At least it’s funny and gives me something to think about in my free time. But when you start to involve my friends? That’s way too far. There was no reason to rope Yeonjun into this. He’s your friend too, Choi.” Soobin seemed surprised that you had come in with so much to say right off the bat.

“Y/N it’s really not that big of a deal. I just wanted to see if you actually had the capacity to have a crush on someone. And you’ve been spending so much time with Yeonjun I figured he’d be the perfect person to test my theory with, plus the humiliation factor of him not liking you back would have kept me entertained for days” he sat down on his couch casually, “I guess he had to break it to you that you aren’t as flirty and irresistible as you think you are, huh?” The air crackled with tension as you gawked down at his sprawled form.

“What are you even saying? Yeonjun and I are just friends. And why does it matter to you if I have the capacity for a crush or not? You hate me. If you’re just waiting until I get a boyfriend so that you can come in and ruin it all with your shitty vendetta then you’re much worse of a person than I ever pegged you for!” Tears welled in your eyes but you wiped at them angrily. Out of all the fights and disagreements you’d ever had with Soobin, this was the first one that stirred an odd emotion in the pit of your stomach. You were tired of the back and forth. Soobin seemed oddly alarmed at the formation of your tears as he got up from the comfort of his couch and approached you like a wounded dog. 

“Trust me, I have no grand plan to ruin your life at every turn even though that’s what you think. You spend so much time with Yeonjun, I thought maybe you liked him. I knew he didn’t like you because when I told him that I-” Soobin actually clapped his own giant hand over his mouth as the words hung in the air between you. Anger shot through your mind at the idea that he didn’t even have the guts to relay the entire story. 

“You what? You’re so wrapped up in your own little world but you can’t even finish telling me what you said to someone else? I can’t believe you, honestly,” you turned and made your way toward his door, wanting nothing more than to go home and take a hot shower. Soobin’s hand clasped around your wrist as he gently yanked you away from the exit. His strong grip kept you standing right in front of him and although you struggled against him, there was no use. 

“I told him that I like you.” For a second, you thought that you had misheard him, but he continued. “I told Yeonjun that I like you. And he told me that I should go for it, because he doesn’t see you as more than a friend. But I freaked out so I told him that you liked him. I knew you probably actually didn’t.” 

Your brain was short circuiting at the confession. Choi Soobin, who had complicated your life beyond belief since the day he moved in months ago liked you? 

“But,” your eyebrows drew together as you tried to comprehend it all, “you hate me, Soobin. We have a whole...rivalry! There’s no way you actually have feelings for me. I swear if this is just another prank I’ll shove my hand so far down your throat-“ Soobin threw his hands up in front of his body in a form of defense. 

“No! I don’t hate you, Y/N. I’ve liked you since the day we met. I just thought the pranks and petty stuff was like...our way of hanging out? That’s why I kept doing them. I thought you were having fun with me.” It was ridiculous how much he sounded like a little boy explaining his side of the story to a teacher. It was even more ridiculous that the corner of your brain where you’d stuffed all your feelings for Soobin began to overflow. 

“Haven’t you ever heard that there’s much better ways to tell someone you like them? We could have spent the last 11 months not at each other’s throats if you would have just manned up and found out I like you too.” You saw the exact moment that the words finally processed and his entire face lit up with the recognition. 

A familiar, deeply dimpled smile grew across his face as his skin reddened. He clasped his hands in front of him and swayed back and forth on his feet. Before you could think to stop him, he leaned in close enough that you worried he could hear your heart thumping against your ribs. 

“You like me too?” 

“Yes, Soobin. I like you too. And I would like you even more if you stopped your stupid pranks,” you tapped his nose with your pointer finger twice. He nodded eagerly with his tongue sticking out from between his teeth slightly.

“Deal,” he stuck his hand out to you and you raised an eyebrow to silently ask if he was serious. His hand didn’t waver, so you grasped it firmly and pulled him toward your body until you could wrap him into a tight hug. It was an odd feeling, soaking in Soobin’s scent as he gently rocked the two of you back and forth in his apartment. Odd, but good. Perfect.

[harrysweasleys]

let me show you my world // h.p

summary: A Harry x muggle!reader where he takes her to the wizarding world for the first time please?

warnings: mentions of food, very very slight ptsd if you’re really looking

word count: 2.5k

a/n: short and sweet! i hope you all enjoy, it’s been a while since i’ve written for harry!

[i do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other platform]

Today was the big day.

After what felt like weeks of waiting, today would fall the day where Harry promised you he’d take you to see his side of the world — the side that he had hid from you for the first few months of your relationship.

Until, of course, you stumbled in on him using the “lumos” charm one night in the dark kitchen while he thought you were asleep. It was a nearly unbearably long night of explanations and questions, but once you came to grasp with the idea that your boyfriend could perform spells and magic, you were awestruck.

For months you pestered him about showing you more, showing you the magic of his world and the thrill that came with it. You’d never be able to perform a spell, that was for sure, but you wanted to dip your toes in the life that was being a wizard. Maybe you could relate to Harry a little more.

He loved to talk about his time at Hogwarts and all the fascinating creatures and wild spells that he had learned about, but it wasn’t something you understood. Sure, you’d nod along and stare at him with wide eyes as he encountered his memories with a faint smile, but you only wished you could experience a smidge of it.

So, finally, he agreed to introduce you to his life by inviting you as his plus one to Ron’s birthday, which was conveniently being held at the Burrow — where Harry had really fallen in love with magic the first time — and you were over the moon.

“Remember, if something comes flying at your head, duck,” he said, your hand in his as he pressed a light kiss to your skin, clearly a little nervous.

You stepped closer to him and put your hands on either side of his face, “Harry, this isn’t going to scare me off. Don’t worry. If anything, I’m going to be even more interested in you. Which will only go badly for you, really. I won’t be able to leave you alone.”

He gave you a little smile and nodded his head, eyes piercing yours. He had dressed up with a nice shirt, a tie, and had even wrapped up a little gift for Ron, which was sitting in a bag by the front door. You weren’t sure what it was, but by his laughter as he had wrapped it, you figured it was an inside joke.

You had met Ron before, of course you had. The two were practically inseparable, both in and out of school. But you had never met Ron’s family, nor had you seen what his lifestyle was like. You could only imagine that with a family full of witches and wizards, you were in for a wild ride.

Now, Harry had told you countless times about what apparation entailed, but nothing could prepare you for the feeling that it put your body through. As he gripped your hand, you felt your weight vanish. It felt like you were being sucked into a vacuum, your body being warped through the material of reality.

Only when your feet hit solid ground did you feel your balance get restored.

You gripped Harry’s arm as he let out a chuckle, “Warn me next time.” Your breathing was heavy and your voice came out weak, but you were alive and in one piece. Your first taste of magic hadn’t gone too wonderfully.

“Sorry,” he shot you a quick smile, sliding his hand into your clammy one before walking up to the house. Harry had a certain sparkle in his eye tonight, and it wasn’t due to the sunset. He was excited, you could tell. His hand swung with yours as the two of you approached your destination.

What Harry called the Burrow was unlike anything you had ever seen. It looked like multiple homes stacked on top of one another, being held together by wooden boards and nails. Smoke came out of the chimney, and the smell of fire reached your nostrils. Light glowed from the many, many windows on all the floors of the house — were there seven floors? Eight? Ten?

“This is… wow,” you let out an impressed sigh, eyes scanning the entire building. It looked like it was held together by magic, and knowing Harry’s world, it definitely was.

“That was my reaction too,” his eyes followed yours before he gave your hand a squeeze and began leading you up to the front door, “Ron has quite a few siblings, so it might get confusing, but you’ll get the hang of it.”

You nodded, still a little speechless. If this was what the outside looked like, you couldn’t imagine what was awaiting you on the inside.

Harry brought his hand up and knocked on the door, cutting you short of your thoughts. As excited as you were to see what it was like inside a true magical household, you couldn’t bring yourself past the nerves.

Though, you didn’t have much time to dwell on that before the door was swung open and a tall ginger man with scars across his face stood on the other side.

“Bill,” Harry grinned, letting go of your hand before the two of them shared a hug.

The man had the same hair colour as Ron — no surprise there — but he was much leaner and taller. You had also heard about the werewolf incident, so it didn’t come as much of a shock to see the deep, aged wounds across the pale skin of his face.

“This is Y/N,” Harry turned to face you as the two of them pulled apart from their greeting.

The man named Bill nodded and gave you a comforting smile, “We’ve heard a lot about you. Come on in.”

Harry stepped in first and you followed closely behind, Bill closing the door behind you. The smell of cake filled your senses and you felt a smile begin to form on your lips.

By the front door, you could see into the kitchen. Spatulas and spoons moved about in the air, untouched by human hands. In the sink, dishes were being cleaned by themselves and soap bubbles floated up and popped near the ceiling. A little broom moved across the floor, collecting dust and crumbs in a pile by the kitchen garbage, sweeping in an elegant and quick manner that no human would be able to do themselves.

Your cheeks began to hurt due to your smile, and you brought yourself to turn away and look into the living room. By the crackling fireplace, a pair of knitting needles worked by themselves to knit a thick, woolen pair of socks. Books and magazines moved around and placed themselves on shelves, and you spotted a dark grey owl perched by the window.

“It’s something, isn’t it?” Harry placed one of his hands on your lower back and grounded you to reality. Or, whatever dream world this really was.

You nodded, still speechless. You couldn’t believe the kind of stuff magic could do, that all of this was real. Sure, spells and stuff were a given, but you never considered that people could run their houses like this. That with a flick of a wrist, things would go back to their rightful place and chores would do themselves. It only made you a little jealous that you couldn’t do these things yourself.

“Yeah,” you said, slightly in awe, before removing your jacket and placing it next to Harry’s by the door.

He linked his hand with yours once again and followed Bill into the house, into what you figured was the dining room. Windows were open and a fresh spring breeze rolled through the room, almost making the room feel even more surreal.

Your eyes landed on the people sitting around the table, two faces which you recognized already. Ron and Hermione sat at the end, both smiling and waving at you. The rest, however, you didn’t know.

“Guys, this is Y/N,” Harry said after going around and greeting everyone, “Y/N, let’s make rounds. You’ve got Bill and his wife Fleur, then we’ve got Charlie, Percy and his fiancée Penelope, Fred and his girlfriend Angelina, and his twin brother George, Ginny, and then Ron’s parents, Mr and Mrs Weasley.”

You nodded, but you hadn’t really been listening. You’d forget all the names anyways. You were more focused on the small floating candles, and the fact that there was another owl perched on the back of one of the chairs. It gave a little hoot and began to doze off.

“Hi,” you finally spoke up, turning to face Mrs Weasley, “Thank you for inviting us.”

“Of course, dear!” she grinned, waving her hand in dismissal, “Everyone is always invited here.”

“It’s true,” Mr Weasley spoke up from next to her, his eyes bright and a cheerful smile on his face, “You’re a muggle, yes?”

You felt your eyes widen a bit as you answered, “Oh, uh, yeah. No magic here.” An awkward chuckle escaped your lips and you began to fiddle with your fingers.

Harry placed a hand on your arm before Mr Weasley could ask you any more questions, and guided you to the two open chairs next to Ron, both of you taking your seats. You could feel eyes following you but you decided to brush it off. Harry had warned you about Mr Weasley’s fascination with muggles, so you couldn’t really be surprised.

From next to you, Ron and Harry began to chat as if they had spent no time apart, and from the other side of you, a thin blonde woman placed her hand over yours.

“I’m Fleur,” she smiled a dazzling smile, her sleek hair shining under the candlelight, “Is this your first time seeing this kind of environment?”

You nodded, “It is, actually,” you turned away and glanced at the owl once more before turning your attention back to the woman, “I haven’t actually seen much apart from the basic spells Harry uses around the house.”

“It is fun, isn’t it?” she pulled her wand out of the purse that was hanging on her chair, twirled it in between her fingers, and then placed it on the table top, “Not something you get used to, even if you’ve been surrounded by magic your whole life!”

A twinge of jealousy surged through you at the thought that you never got to experience this as a kid, and that you’d never really get to experience this as an adult either. That the only taste of magic you’d get would be through Harry, that you’d never feel the feeling of it running through your veins.

“I bet,” you responded with a smile, eyeing the room, “I’m sure it’s incredible.”

You lost yourself in your own thoughts, looking around the room at the way Ron’s family interacted with the things around them. The twins, who you couldn’t tell apart just yet, were making a little firework buzz around the table. The other brother which you were sure was named Percy was scowling at them, clearly hiding a smile as the firework sparkled next to his ear.

Harry’s hand found its way to your thigh and he gave a slight squeeze, “It’s a lot, I know.”

It was pretty overwhelming, and you had trouble wrapping your head around it all, but your heart felt full. You could feel the tingle of thrill in your veins as you thought of all the things one could do with magic. Harry had done some basic things around the house — made flowers grow, put the dishes away, helped organize a few things. But you knew he had often used his magic in self defence, and now that he had defeated that evil, he didn’t always want to use it. It served as a reminder of what he had done in the past.

“It’s something,” you grinned, turning to face him, “Thanks for letting me see this.”

He shot you a wink, sending your heart into a flurry, and brought you into his conversation with Ron and Hermione.

——

The evening had been a blast. Ron’s brothers had put on a show of fire and spark for his birthday, and Mrs Weasley had made a massive multi-layered cake that was large enough to feed dozens of people. Harry had brought you on a small tour of the house, with the Weasleys’ permission of course, and pointed out all the fun little enchanted trinkets that hid in plain sight.

As the night drew darker and people began to leave, Harry had suggested you two do the same.

You agreed, following him to the front door to grab your coats before bidding a good night to the family. Ron and Harry shared a hug as Hermione embraced you, and shortly after, you two were back in your apartment.

Apparating had been a little less dizzying the second time around now that you knew what to expect. You let out a small chuckle at Harry’s tousled hair before he raised his hand to pat it down, giving you a small glare in the process.

“Thank you for that,” you muttered after you had both tossed your jackets by the front door, pulling him into a hug. He was warm, and he smelled the same, but after everything you had witnessed tonight, you now saw him in a somewhat different light. You understood his world a little more now, and in an odd way, you felt so much more connected to his past.

He wrapped his arm around you and rested his head against your shoulder, placing a light kiss on the spot where your neck and shoulder met, “It feels good, showing you all of that. There’s a lot more to see, of course there is, but I feel better. I was pretty nervous about tonight, honestly.”

You grinned, placing a kiss against his cheek as you pulled away from the hug, “A lot more to see, yeah? Does this mean we’re going on a magical adventure where you give me a detailed tour of the wizarding landmarks?”

He rolled his eyes and let out a chuckle, his hands not leaving your waist. His shoulders were slouched and his body felt relaxed under your hands, causing a bubble of joy to burst in your chest. Harry had always been casual and chilled, but you knew he was always afraid of showing you this side of his life. And now that he had, clear relief was written all over him.

“If that’s what you want,” he grinned, stepping a little bit closer to you, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, “Diagon Alley is next, then.”

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