#i am still just having Thoughts after patch 5 and i'm like wait i never talked about this on here did i

[valentjin]

we've all seen the jokes about Raphael and clonefucking but what if we talk about Raphael and Clone. welcome to my TED talk, here's how Raphael can still win-

(don't take it TOO seriously, i'm just offering some info/lore/mechanics and whatnot from d&d that could be interesting to consider, for fics or headcanons or whatever else this might be useful for lol)

anyway onto the post. so while idk if 5e has anything particularly specific or definitive about this (knowing 5e probably not, though I haven't read descent into avernus so idk if they have more fiend lore in there) going off 3.5e cambions are just defined as another name for half-fiends, which the MM says are typically outsiders with the native subtype - meaning they can be "raised, reincarnated, or resurrected just as other living creatures can be". huzzah, this means they have souls (imo). presuming the same holds true for cambions in 5e, since 5e also just defines them as the offspring of a fiend and a humanoid, i don't see why Clone wouldn't be an option for Raphael. it's only 8th level (surely there's a few 15th level wizards out there), the material component cost is only 3000gp (for a diamond and a container for the clone), and once the clone matures it "endures indefinitely" as long as the container does; when the creature dies its soul transfers to the clone with all its memories, abilities, and personality (but none of its gear, so we still snatch his diary) + the body's physical remains don't disappear if they aren't destroyed, so the orb vision we got about Meph munchies still tracks

the only potential issue is that in order to transfer to the clone, the soul of the creature must be "free and willing to return", but idk why anyone would have a claim on Raphael's soul to prevent it from returning. since he clearly deals in other people's souls a lot, he would probably be pretty careful about not letting anyone else get their hands on his! (plus he makes a point of saying he's a devil not a cambion when talking about himself, he wants to act like he doesn't have one at least 😂)

Clone lets you make the clone look like a younger version of the creature as well (nooo dont make your clone look like a younger version of yourself Raphael you're so sexy ahah)

[cheollollipop]

Fragments of Us - Chapter 5. | c.sc

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader genre: angst, fluff, smut (minors fuck off, in the nicest way possible) warning(s): just teenage angst tbh. nothing crazy. summary: two years after a messy breakup, seungcheol and yn reconnect unexpectedly. word count: 17k (?) start date: nov. 20, 2024

a/n: trying to post this has been a pain in my ass!!!!! the formatting might be off idkidkidk. anyways, here's a throwback ch. of how everyone becomes friends. even a romance that no one sees coming :)

I didn’t expect the group chat to explode when I sent the text. I thought I'd get a thumbs-up emoji, maybe a "cool" from Jeonghan.

Instead, I got this: GROUP CHAT: chaos but make it childhood trauma

Me: so uh I'm transferring to seoul high lol...

Dokyeom: WHAT?!?!

Jeonghan: I JUST WOKE UP AND YOU'RE DROPPING LORE????

Jihoon: It is 8:07... Can we not do this right now?

Me: surprise...? starting monday lol

Jeonghan: MONDAY? MONDAY AS IN TOMORROW MONDAY?!

Dokyeom: I AM SWEATING THROUGH MY PAJAMAS! I'M TOO YOUNG FOR THIS MUCH JOY

Jihoon: You're fifteen.

Dokyeom: EXACTLY!

Me: I finally convinced my parents. gave a whole speech about how I am emotionally dependent on you guys. very persuasive stuff...also may have cried a little. theatrically.

Jeonghan: That's my girl.

Dokyeom: THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!

Jeonghan: wait DO YOU GUYS REALIZE WHAT THIS MEANS?!

Dokyeom: hallway chaos? synchronized class skipping? group projects that get nothing done?! COMFORT LUNCHES???? we are gonna be unstoppable

Jeongahn: no no. bigger than that! SHE HASN'T MET SEUNGCHEOL YET

Me: uh..who?

Dokyeom: oh this is going to be good

Jeonghan: I bet he falls for her in a week

Dokyeom: bold. i say three days

Me: WHO IS SEUNGCHEOL? WHY IS HE FALLING? 

Jihoon: Please. Do not encourage them.

Jeonghan: Seungcheol is just... you'll see. tall. soft-spoken. occasional disaster.

Dokyeom: mysterious hallway menace. emotionally stable-ish. probably writes poetry in his notes app.  no. he DEFINITELY does.

Me: you guys are weird.

Jihoon: You're just now realizing this?

Jeonghan: anyway. we're doing a full seoul high crash course tomorrow. meet at the park, 1pm. bring snacks and an open mind.

Me: should I be worried?

Jihoon: Yes.

The group chat has been suspiciously quiet since last night. Which can only mean one of two things: 1. They've fallen into a group nap. 2. They're planning something.

And based on the fact that Jeonghan texted me this morning—just a selfie with two sunglasses on and the words "ready for war"—I'm guessing it's option two. When I get to the park, they're already waiting on our usual patch of grass near the busted basketball court.

Jeonghan's lying down like a man who's never known stress. He's got a cold drink in one hand and his phone in the other, probably making a playlist for "walking around and talking like we're in a coming-of-age movie."

Dokyeom sees me first and immediately jumps to his feet like I just stepped off a plane from overseas.

"THERE SHE IS!" he yells, full of golden retriever energy. "BACK FROM THE ACADEMIC VOID!"

I laugh as he jogs over and pulls me into the tightest, most dramatic hug possible. "You saw me last week."

"Yeah, but now you're a Seoul High kid. There's a difference. You've been reborn."

"Okay, calm down. I haven't even walked through the gates yet."

He holds me at arm's length. "You're glowing. It's the transfer student effect."

"Please stop," Jihoon mutters as he arrives, earbuds still in and energy already drained. "It's not even 1:05 and I'm regretting this."

Jeonghan finally sits up, brushing grass off his jeans. "Come on, Ji. It's her prep day. Our girl's about to enter the war zone that is public education with no map."

"I was at a different school for two weeks, not exiled."

"Same thing," Jeonghan shrugs. "Anyway. Welcome to Seoul High Orientation, Chaos Edition."

He stands dramatically and pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket.

"You made an itinerary?" I ask.

"It's color-coded."

"I'm scared."

Dokyeom leans in. "I helped. My section is the cafeteria, obviously."

"I'm going to regret this," Jihoon says again, but he follows us anyway.

Stop #1: The Front Gate:

"This is where you'll see at least four couples pretending not to be dating," Jeonghan says, pointing at a bench by the sidewalk.

"Also," Dokyeom adds, "don't walk near the bushes after fifth period. One time I saw someone get tackled by a rogue soccer ball and it never left me."

"Duly noted."

Stop #2: The Vending Machines:

"Row three. Bottom left," Dokyeom says with a hand on his heart. "That chocolate milk will change your life."

"The green tea's okay too," Jeonghan adds, "if you want to feel emotionally empty for forty-five minutes."

Jihoon throws a pack of crackers at him. "It's just tea, Han."

"It's a lifestyle, Ji."

Stop #3: The Courtyard:

"This is where we eat," Jeonghan says proudly, spreading his arms out like he's presenting a kingdom. "Under the big tree. Shade, good breeze, low teacher traffic."

I smile as I take it in. "It's cute."

"We're not," Jihoon says.

"No," I agree. "But this is."

By the time we're halfway through the tour, I've got a mental folder labeled "Seoul High Survival" and about thirty Jeonghan-led side tangents I did not ask for. But the truth is... this? This is everything I missed.

The laughing. The bickering. Jihoon pretending not to care while handing me the exact snack I love without saying a word. Jeonghan spinning wild tales of hallway drama. Dokyeom trailing behind me to make sure I don't get trampled by a roaming club rush. I feel... settled.

Like the two weird weeks at my old school were a glitch in the system, and this chaos, noise, and love is where I'm meant to be. We end the day back at the park, laying in the grass like we're thirteen again and avoiding responsibility.

"I still can't believe you're gonna be with us again," Dokyeom says, arms stretched above his head.

"Yeah," I say softly. "Me either."

There's a pause. Just long enough for Jeonghan to get ideas.

"So," he says slowly, "on a scale of 1 to 'should I get my tux ready,' how soon do we think Seungcheol's gonna fall for her?"

I groan. "Why are we back on this?"

Jihoon sighs. "We never left it."

"Who is this guy again?" I ask, squinting at them.

"He's in our lunch period," Jeonghan says. "Tall. Wears hoodies like they're armor. Brooding, soft-spoken, suspiciously poetic."

Dokyeom nods. "He's also weirdly graceful. Like, if a cat and a tree had a baby."

"What does that even mean?"

"You'll see."

"Is he nice?"

"Too nice," Jeonghan says. "It's suspicious."

"He's gonna fall for you in under a week," Dokyeom adds.

I roll onto my side and squint at the sky. "You two are insufferable."

"And yet," Jeonghan sings, "you love us."

"Regrettably."

Jihoon tosses a leaf in my face. "Can we go home now?"

"Yeah," I say, still smiling. "Let's go."

Tomorrow's going to be the first page of a brand new chapter. Same neighborhood, same chaos, new school. And maybe... a new character.

We end up at my place because, well, we always do. I don't remember when it started—sometime around elementary school when my house became the designated "safe zone" after long days of bike riding, hide-and-seek, and overly competitive UNO games. But even now, the pattern hasn't changed. They drift toward my front door like gravity pulls them here.

My mom isn't even surprised when we walk in. She waves from the couch and asks if we want tteokbokki or ramyeon for dinner.

"Both?" Dokyeom asks, hopeful.

She nods like she expected that answer, already moving to the kitchen. Legend.

We pile into the living room—bags tossed in the hallway, shoes left in a mess near the door (except Jihoon, who lines his up neatly like the responsible citizen he is). The TV's playing something none of us are paying attention to, and Jeonghan claims his usual spot on the beanbag like a throne.

"This house smells the same," he says, inhaling dramatically. "Like candles and comfort."

"Like old books and guilt," Jihoon mutters.

"Like snacks and serotonin," Dokyeom adds with a dreamy sigh, already halfway through the chips he found in the cabinet without asking.

"You're welcome," I say, flopping onto the floor with a soda in hand. We hang out like that for hours.

Jeonghan plays with the filters on my phone and takes the ugliest selfies known to man. Dokyeom puts on music and dramatically lip-syncs to every chorus like we're in a music video. Jihoon half-watches from the couch, half-judging all of us, but he doesn't move or leave—he never does. And me? I soak it all in.

The noise. The laughter. The bickering. The way Jeonghan throws popcorn at Jihoon and misses, hitting my ceiling instead. The way Dokyeom sings off-key just to make me laugh. The way Jihoon pretends to hate it, but keeps pushing the bowl of snacks closer to me whenever it gets too far. This is what I missed. Not just the chaos. The comfort. The absolute certainty that no matter how weird or awful or overwhelming tomorrow is... I'll have this. These people. 

Around 8:30, we're sprawled out on every available surface—Dokyeom upside-down on the recliner, Jeonghan draped over half the beanbag like a Victorian ghost, and Jihoon holding the remote like he's the last sane person left on Earth.

"We should go over the schedule again," Jihoon says suddenly.

Jeonghan groans. "We already did that."

"I wasn't paying attention," I admit, taking a long sip from my drink.

"See?" Jihoon gestures toward me like he's in a courtroom.

He pulls out his phone and opens the Seoul High schedule app. "You start with History. Room 2B. I'm in 2C, so we'll walk over together."

"You memorized my schedule?"

"No," he says too fast.

Jeonghan coughs, "Soft."

"I'm being helpful," Jihoon mutters.

Dokyeom sits up like he's had an epiphany. "Wait, who's walking her to lunch?"

Everyone looks at each other.

"Not it," Jihoon says immediately.

Jeonghan gasps. "How dare you."

Eventually, my mom calls us for dinner and we crowd around the table like we're still kids coming in from playing outside. Elbows bump. Someone drops chopsticks. Jeonghan steals from my bowl. Jihoon sighs. Dokyeom does his happy food dance. Everything feels stupidly perfect.

Later, when they've all gone home and I'm finally alone in my room, the silence feels louder—but not empty. There's a warmth in it. A weightless sort of joy that hums beneath the quiet.

I set out my uniform for tomorrow, check my backpack one more time and then crawl under the covers.

My alarm goes off at 6:45.

It's rude. Aggressively loud. Too chipper for this hour. I silence it with the strength of someone who briefly considers faking an illness but remembers she fought tooth and nail to transfer here. No backing out now.

I lie in bed for a moment, staring at the ceiling, letting the reality settle in: I'm starting over. Sort of. New school. New teachers. New classmates. But not totally new.

I get up and head to the bathroom. My uniform looks fine—I tried it on twice yesterday to make sure it wasn't weirdly too long or too short. I do my hair in a simple style and throw on a little lip balm before grabbing my backpack and heading downstairs. Mom's already up, making toast. She smiles when she sees me.

"Nervous?"

I shrug, slipping on my shoes. "Excited. Mostly."

She hands me a packed lunch. "You're going to be great."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Say hi to the boys for me. Especially Jihoon. He's the only one I trust not to set something on fire."

"I'll let him know he's the chosen one," I laugh, heading for the door.

We agreed to meet at the corner near Jeonghan's house—same spot we've used as our unofficial meet-up location since elementary school. I'm a few minutes early. I adjust my bag, check my phone, and take a deep breath. The air is crisp, that September kind of cool that says summer's still hanging on but barely.

"Wow," a voice says behind me. "You actually showed up on time. New year, new you?"

I turn around and roll my eyes. "Hello to you, too, Jihoon."

He's in uniform too, blazer slightly wrinkled like he didn't bother ironing it. His backpack looks like it's already carrying emotional damage.

"I had a feeling you'd say that," I grin.

"I had a feeling you'd be annoying this early in the morning," he deadpans.

"Don't worry. I'm just getting started."

Before he can respond, someone yells, "FRESHMAN PRINCESS!" from across the street.

Jeonghan.

He runs up dramatically, iced coffee in hand, sunglasses on like it's not 7:20 a.m.

"You're lucky I'm walking with you," he says, looping his arm through mine. "The hallways are a battlefield. I will protect you."

"Why do you look like you're attending a music festival?" Jihoon asks.

"It's called style, Hoonie. Look it up."

Dokyeom appears seconds later, full of sunshine as usual. "WE'RE DOING THIS, GUYS!"

"We are," I say, grinning. "Day one."

Jeonghan adjusts his sunglasses. "Let the chaos begin."

The four of us start walking—shoulders bumping, shoes dragging, backpacks swaying. It feels weirdly perfect. Like we've done this forever.

Jeonghan launches into a dramatic retelling of a cafeteria fight he witnessed last week (spoiler: it involved pudding and questionable martial arts), while Dokyeom swears someone in the second-year class is secretly famous on TikTok. Jihoon grunts at regular intervals to remind us that he's still here and still suffering.

The sidewalk, the trees, the sound of their voices bouncing off each other like background music in the best kind of teen drama.

The front gate is already swarming when we get there—students spilling onto campus in loose clusters, backpacks slung over shoulders, half-asleep conversations floating through the air. It's loud and chaotic in a way that feels alive. The moment we step through the gates, Jeonghan slings an arm across my shoulders like we're on parade.

"Fresh meat," he whispers dramatically. "Do you smell it, Jihoon?"

"Please don't talk to me."

Jeonghan completely ignores him and gestures to a group of students near the front steps. "That's where the morning gossip happens. Most of it's fake. All of it's entertaining."

Dokyeom leans in like he's narrating a documentary. "That corner near the vending machines? That's where couples break up before first period."

I squint. "Is that real?"

"Yup," Jeonghan says. "We once saw someone dump their boyfriend with a Post-it note. Iconic."

We make our way through the hallways, Jeonghan pointing out every landmark like he's a tour guide and I'm a visiting diplomat.

"Left hallway is the music room. Where dreams go to die."

"I thought you liked music class," I say.

"I do. I just hate being graded on vibes."

Jihoon groans. "I swear to God—"

"Language," Jeonghan says sweetly.

By the time the warning bell rings, I've got a decent sense of the building—where my classes are, which bathroom stalls to avoid, which stairwells are used for crying.

I make it through first period with only one awkward "Are you new here?" moment. Second period is better. By third, I manage to raise my hand without my voice shaking. And suddenly, it's lunch.

"So," Jeonghan says, linking our arms as we weave through the courtyard, "are you emotionally prepared to meet the guy we've already decided is going to fall in love with you?"

"I'm sorry?" I blink. "Back up."

"Seungcheol," he sing-songs. "Tall, quiet, mysterious. Hoodie guy. Pretty eyes. You've heard us mention him."

"I thought you were joking when you said he writes poems and sulks during gym."

"Oh, he does. But he's also a walking soft boy aesthetic, and I just know you're his exact type."

I narrow my eyes. "And what exactly is his type?"

"Dangerously witty, occasionally unhinged girls who will probably roast him for wearing the same hoodie four days in a row."

"I'm honored," I deadpan.

"Listen," Jeonghan grins. "If he doesn't fall in love by the end of lunch, I'll give you five bucks."

"That's it?"

"Emotional damage isn't cheap, YN."

We round the corner and there they are—Jihoon, sitting cross-legged on the grass like he's contemplating life, and Dokyeom, animatedly telling a story with full body gestures and a dramatic reenactment.

Jeonghan waves like he's entering a fan meet. "Boys! Look who I found lurking in the halls like a lost soul."

Jihoon groans. "God, spare me."

"Jihoon," I grin. "Still allergic to joy, I see."

"Still the human equivalent of spilled soda," he mutters, but he shifts slightly so I can sit beside him.

Dokyeom cheers. "Our girl's officially one of us again! Let the unhinged lunch sessions resume!"

"Can't wait," I laugh, sitting down and pulling out my lunch.

"So—how's Seoul High treating you so far?"

"Eh," I shrug. "Nothing chaotic so far".

"Yet," Jihoon adds.

Jeonghan suddenly sits up straighter, lips curling. "Incoming."

I glance toward where he's looking. And then I see him.

Seungcheol.

Tall, broad-shouldered, sleeves half-covering his hands, hoodie slightly oversized. He's walking toward us with the calm of someone who's used to being invisible, but the kind of invisible people still notice. And he's looking at me. Just for a second. Then he looks away.

When he sits, he doesn't say anything. He just nods at Jeonghan, gives Dokyeom a quiet greeting, and glances in Jihoon's direction like he's silently asking about my presence.

"This," Jeonghan says, all false casual, "is YN."

Seungcheol turns to me, eyes soft but unreadable. "You're the transfer?"

"That's me," I nod. "Fresh meat. Bring on the hazing."

He blinks. Slowly. "We don't really do that here."

"Shame," I say. "I had a whole dramatic speech prepared about rising from the ashes."

A pause. Then, just barely—he smiles.

Oh no.

His smile is the quiet kind. The kind you almost miss if you're not paying attention. But I see it.

Dokyeom's eyes widen ever so slightly.

Jeonghan hides a cough behind his hand.

Jihoon mutters, "Here we go."

"So," I continue, leaning back on my palms, "you're Seungcheol. I've heard things."

That gets his attention. "Like what?"

"Mostly that you wear hoodies like armor and possibly write sad poetry."

He looks stunned for half a second. Then says, "...I plead the fifth."

Jeonghan loses it.

"God, you're already corrupted," Jihoon mutters, stabbing at his lunch like it wronged him.

"Don't worry, Ji," I grin at him. "I'll leave your delicate moral compass intact."

"You broke that years ago."

"I never touched it."

"You threw it out a window."

I grin. "You're just mad I beat you in Mario Kart and the spelling bee."

Jeonghan gasps. "You did not bring up the spelling bee."

"She spelled 'acquiesce' in record time," Dokyeom says proudly.

"She whispered it," Jihoon grumbles.

"Power move," I say with a shrug.

Seungcheol is quiet—but I catch him smiling again.

Twice in one lunch. Interesting.

As we all start eating, I feel Jeonghan nudge my shoulder. When I glance over, he's grinning like a devil.

"No love at first sight," he whispers, "but I'm feeling a solid slow burn."

"Shut up and eat your rice," I whisper back.

But I'm smiling, too. And across from me, Seungcheol keeps glancing my way.

By the time I unwrap the sandwich my mom made me, the conversation has unraveled into three different threads: Dokyeom trying to convince us that aliens are real, Jeonghan attempting to set up an impromptu talent show, and Jihoon—bless him—trying to ignore all of it while chewing like it's a stress reliever. And then there's Seungcheol. Silent. Observing.

Twisting the cap of his drink back and forth between his fingers like it's giving him something to focus on. I don't know what it is exactly, but something about him makes me... curious. He's not cold, not standoffish—but there's a distance. Like he's not sure if he should be here, but he is. Like he's still deciding what kind of person he's allowed to be in front of me. Which, okay, that might be projecting. But I'm intrigued.

"So, Cheol," Jeonghan says out of nowhere, eyes sharp with barely contained mischief. "YN is a spelling bee champion. Impressive, right?"

Seungcheol looks up mid-sip. "Spelling bee?"

"It was fifth grade," I say quickly. "Jeonghan's just bitter because I beat him."

"She spelled 'rendezvous' and I panicked and said 'cow,'" he says, hand to chest. "A dark day for me."

Jihoon sighs. "You spelled 'cow' in a French vocabulary competition."

"And I spelled it perfectly."

Seungcheol blinks. "Sounds like you deserved that loss."

Oh. Oh. He speaks. Seungcheol actually laughs. Just once. Soft and a little caught off guard, like he didn't mean to. Jeonghan stares at him like he's just grown wings.

Dokyeom, not even trying to be subtle, leans over and fake-whispers, "Is this... is this the most Cheol's ever spoken to a new person?"

Seungcheol shoots him a look. "You're not helping."

"I'm not trying to."

Jeonghan leans in. "This is a safe space, Cheol. You can admit you like her."

My head snaps around. "Jeonghan!"

"What?" he says innocently. "He's clearly smiling in, like, two-minute intervals. That's basically a love confession." Seungcheol buries his face in his hand.

Dokyeom claps. "I knew it! I said three days. We're ahead of schedule."

Jihoon doesn't even look up. "You two are the reason I have stress-induced eye twitching."

"I'm honored," Jeonghan beams.

I wave my sandwich between them. "Can we maybe not make my first lunch here about whether or not I'm breaking someone's emotional armor?"

Seungcheol peeks up from behind his hand, gaze flickering to mine, half amused, half mortified.

"I don't have emotional armor," he mumbles.

"Sure," I say, giving him a playful look. "You've got hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands like they're hiding state secrets."

He blinks. Then smiles. Again. That's smile number three. We're keeping count now. Jihoon pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I can't do four years of this."

"Oh, you can," I say sweetly. "And you will."

Jeonghan claps. "God, I missed her."

"Missed?" Jihoon repeats. "She's been gone two weeks."

"Two long weeks," Dokyeom sighs dramatically.

"Thank you for acknowledging my impact," I say, wiping my hands on a napkin. "I like to think I leave a small trail of chaos wherever I go."

Seungcheol glances at me. "You do."

I raise a brow. "You say that like you have evidence."

"I've known you for thirty minutes."

"And that's enough?"

He pauses. Then nods.

I smile, leaning back on my hands. "Fair."

The bell rings not long after that, too loud, too soon.

Everyone groans, especially Dokyeom, who slumps forward like the concept of geometry is personally attacking him. As we start packing up, I catch Seungcheol glancing at me again. Just for a moment. Then he looks away like it didn't happen. Jeonghan sees it, of course. He lives for it. But, for once, he says nothing. Which somehow feels louder. As we all start heading toward the building again—Jihoon and Dokyeom walking ahead, already arguing over which staircase is faster—Jeonghan lingers behind with me.

He leans in close, voice low. "So. Thoughts?"

I raise a brow. "On what?"

"On the quiet boy who, by the way, totally laughed at your joke and voluntarily spoke to you more than six syllables."

"Maybe he's warming up to me."

"Maybe you're the sun."

I scoff. "You are so dramatic."

"And you," he says, nudging my side, "are so lying if you say you didn't like it."

I don't answer. Because I don't have to. I'm still smiling.

Back inside, the hallways feel stuffier somehow—more humid, more crowded. Someone's playing music on a Bluetooth speaker a few lockers down, and two second-years are mock-arguing about who owes whom bread from the vending machine. It's normal chaos.

I trail behind the boys as we head to our lockers. Jeonghan's retelling the story of the "spelling bee betrayal" for the third time in twenty minutes with new embellishments. Apparently, I now wore sunglasses and whispered the final word like a spy. Jihoon is visibly trying not to throttle him.

"Please," Jihoon groans, "I will pay you to shut up."

"Okay, but like... ten bucks minimum," Jeonghan says without missing a beat.

Dokyeom turns to me. "So what's your next class?"

"Math," I say, feigning dread. "Room 1C. I had a good streak going and now it ends."

"You're with me," Jihoon grunts. "Come on, let's go before the students clog the stairs."

"Your optimism is infectious."

He just rolls his eyes and starts walking, and I follow—throwing a quick wave back at Jeonghan and Dokyeom. Seungcheol's there too, halfway turned, backpack over one shoulder. Our eyes meet briefly. It's not a long look. Just one of those quick, tiny moments of recognition. But it lands. Harder than I expected.

Math Class – 10 Minutes Later - It's exactly as tragic as I feared. The teacher drones on about number sets and functions while my brain tries desperately to remember what integers even are. Jihoon passes me a spare pencil when mine breaks, muttering something about "karma for being smug."

I spend half the class doodling stars in the corner of my notebook and pretending I'm absorbing something. I catch Jihoon glancing over once to see if I'm paying attention—he doesn't say anything, but I feel the judgment.

By the time the bell rings, I've retained maybe five percent of the material and zero percent of my dignity.

"Remind me to steal your notes later," I say as we pack up.

"I won't."

"Wow. Some best friend you are."

He slams his notebook closed. "Some best friend you are. You abandoned me for two weeks and came back with main character energy."

"That's because I am the main character."

"God help us all.

I meet up with Jeonghan and Dokyeom in the stairwell before our last class of the day. Seungcheol's already there too, leaning against the wall, scrolling through his phone. He glances up when I approach. Doesn't say anything. Just gives a small nod. I return it with a smile and nudge Jeonghan. "So how much longer are you guys pretending you're not planning something?"

He puts on his best "Who, me?" face.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Sure."

"I just think it's cute," he says, way too casually. "The quiet boy and the witty transfer. Enemies to lovers but, like, without the enemies part."

"You've been watching too many dramas."

"Only for research."

"On what?"

"Your life arc," he says, linking arms with me again. "And frankly, it's delivering."

I groan. "Please let me survive a week here before you assign me a love interest."

"No promises."

Last Period – Literature: We file into class and the teacher, Mr. Park, gives a welcoming smile and points me to a desk near the middle.

To my left: Jeonghan. Of course.

To my right? Seungcheol. Because fate is a very funny, very chaotic little thing.

We exchange a brief glance and both pretend we're not aware of the other's presence. Jeonghan's already watching us like a director behind a camera lens.

"You good?" Seungcheol asks quietly once the teacher starts talking.

His voice is soft. A little husky, like he doesn't talk much by the end of the day. I glance at him, then nod. "Yeah. Math tried to kill me, but I pulled through."

He chuckles under his breath. "Jihoon?"

"Obviously."

"I could tell. You looked like you were planning your escape."

"Still am."

Another small smile. God, he's unfair.

Class goes on, and we don't talk much after that, but he's there. He passes me a spare worksheet when mine goes missing. I hand him an extra pen when his runs out. Small things. Quiet things. Things I didn't expect to matter. But they do.

By the end of class, I don't know what we are. Not friends. Not strangers. Something in between. But as we walk out and our arms brush just barely in the hallway, I kind of want to find out. The moment the final bell rings, the hallways erupt like a prison break.

Bags zip. Lockers slam. Someone's already blasting music from their phone and another kid's yelling about losing a shoe.

I find Jeonghan, Dokyeom, and Jihoon by the usual stairwell. Jeonghan's sitting on the ledge like he owns the building. Dokyeom's halfway through a banana. Jihoon's glaring at both of them like he's aged five years since lunch.

"Everyone survive?" I ask as I approach.

"Barely," Jihoon mutters. "I had to stop Jeonghan from starting a fake fire drill."

"It was a tiny flame."

"It was a lighter," Jihoon snaps. "And you tried to pass it off as a 'science experiment.'"

"Art is subjective," Jeonghan shrugs.

Dokyeom claps me on the shoulder. "First day down. Look at you. Thriving."

"Thriving is a stretch," I say, adjusting my backpack. "But I didn't fall down the stairs, so I'll take it."

"Low bar," Jihoon says.

"High success rate," I shoot back.

We fall into our usual rhythm, feet dragging down the sidewalk toward our neighborhood. The sun's dipped lower in the sky, softening everything into gold. The street's quiet, familiar.

"I still can't believe you're actually here," Dokyeom says, smiling. "Like, physically attending our school. Eating our cafeteria food. Existing in the same hallways."

"You say that like I moved across the country and didn't just live ten minutes away."

Jeonghan loops his arms around both mine and Dokyeom's. "It felt like long-distance."

Jihoon walks a few steps ahead, muttering, "She was literally here last weekend."

"Emotionally long-distance," Jeonghan corrects.

"Unbearable," I say dramatically. "I had to spend lunch with strangers for two weeks. Strangers. Who didn't even know about Jihoon's middle school bowl cut."

Dokyeom gasps. "The legend returns."

Jihoon glares over his shoulder. "I will destroy you all."

"Anyway," Jeonghan cuts in, grinning, "now that we're whole again, I propose a welcome-home homework session."

"Which means...?" I raise an eyebrow.

"We invade your house."

"Obviously," Dokyeom grins.

I don't even bother pretending to argue.

We tumble into my house like we own it. Shoes come off, bags hit the floor, and my mom just glances up from the kitchen with a raised brow.

"Living room. No fire hazards this time."

"That was one time!" Jeonghan shouts.

"It was smoke," Dokyeom adds helpfully.

"It was scorched noodles," Jihoon mutters, heading straight to the dining table like this is a business meeting.

I head to the kitchen to grab snacks while Jeonghan and Dokyeom claim the couch like they're royalty returning to their thrones.

As I come back with chips and sodas, I catch Jeonghan elbowing Dokyeom with a smirk.

"Operation Slow-Burn is already underway," he whispers.

"Did you see how he looked at her during lunch?" Dokyeom stage-whispers back. "I thought he was gonna short-circuit."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing!" Jeonghan says brightly. "Love the snacks."

"You're terrible liars."

"We're visionaries," Jeonghan corrects. "There's a difference."

"I have literally no idea what you're talking about."

Dokyeom gives me a very unsubtle side-eye. "No thoughts about a certain quiet boy with hoodie sleeves and resting brooding face?"

I throw a chip at him. "You're reading into things."

"Sure," Jeonghan hums. "And he definitely wasn't looking at you like you hang the stars."

"I—" I pause. "He barely said five words to me."

"But he said them with feeling," Dokyeom nods, serious.

"You guys need help."

"You need to admit you're thinking about him," Jeonghan sings.

"I'm thinking about getting through math homework without setting something on fire."

Jihoon, without looking up: "You're all exhausting."

"Thank you for your support," I say.

He gestures with his pencil. "Don't drag me into your weird rom-com subplot."

"It's not a rom-com subplot," I say quickly.

"Uh-huh."

I flop down onto the carpet with a dramatic groan. "Why did I transfer again?"

"Because you missed us," Jeonghan says, already stealing a chip. "And because fate clearly wants you to fall in love with someone who wears the same hoodie every Tuesday."

"I literally just got here."

"Exactly," Dokyeom grins. "Perfect timing."

I groan again, but as I open my notebook, my brain is already replaying the exact way Seungcheol smiled at me in Lit class. Soft. Cautious. Real.

Which is so not helpful. At all.

The house is quiet now. Too quiet.

The kind of quiet that only happens after the storm—that specific kind of stillness that lingers after Jeonghan has stopped singing show tunes, Dokyeom has stopped dramatically reenacting hallway drama, and Jihoon has stopped muttering about all of us being incurable idiots.

They left an hour ago, but the energy still lingers in the living room. Empty soda cans on the coffee table. An abandoned sock (Jeonghan's, probably). Jihoon's neatly stacked math notes, which he "accidentally" left behind so I'd study properly.

I clean up on autopilot, the rhythm of it soothing in that "I'm trying not to think about things" kind of way. But of course, the moment my hands aren't busy, my brain betrays me.

Seungcheol. Ugh.

I flop onto my bed, face buried in my pillow. This is ridiculous. We barely spoke. A few jokes. A soft smile. Some hoodie-based banter. That's it. Right? So why did I feel so weird when he looked at me? Not bad weird. Just... noticeable. Like something was shifting and I hadn't caught up to it yet.

I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I try to convince myself I'm just reacting to the idea Jeonghan and Dokyeom planted in my head.

But still... He was so quiet, but not in a dismissive way. Just careful. Measured. Like he didn't waste words, so when he did speak—when he asked if I was okay, or offered a pen, or actually laughed—it felt... important.

And now my best friends are trying to turn this into a slow-burn romance with plot twists and emotional development and who knows what else. I should tell them to chill. I should also tell myself to chill.

Instead, I reach for my phone. No texts from Seungcheol, obviously. Why would there be?

Just the group chat, where Jeonghan has sent a blurry picture of Jihoon looking like he's contemplating homicide and labeled it: "mood when YN and Cheol lock eyes again tomorrow."

I snort. I hate them.

I also love them.

I send a single middle finger emoji in response and toss my phone aside. Then I get up to get ready for bed.

Shower. Skincare. Pajamas.

I brush my hair out slowly, the silence in my room now soft instead of heavy. Comfortable. I line up my uniform for the next day. Repack my bag. Plug in my phone. When I crawl under the covers, I feel it again—that calm hum in my chest. A flicker of something new.

Hope? Excitement? I'm not sure. But whatever it is... it feels good. Like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. Maybe Jeonghan's right. Perhaps something is happening. Maybe not. Either way... I think I'm okay with finding out.

I wake up before my alarm. Which is disgusting. And uncalled for.

I lie there for a moment, blinking at the ceiling like the main character in a coming-of-age movie. Then I remember: I go to Seoul High now. With my best friends. With a hoodie-wearing boy who may or may not be quietly unraveling every time I look at him.

Cool. Not thinking about that.

I get up, get dressed, pull my hair into something presentable, and head out with my backpack slung over one shoulder. As I step outside, I see Jihoon waiting at the corner of the street, already holding a convenience store coffee and looking like this is the 37th Monday he's endured in a row.

"You're early," I say, blinking.

"You're late," he says, even though I'm literally on time.

"Someone's cranky."

"I'm walking to school with Jeonghan and Dokyeom. Of course I'm cranky."

Right on cue, we hear them before we see them. Jeonghan's singing something dramatic and entirely off-key, and Dokyeom is beatboxing badly in support.

"They've been like this since I left the house," Jihoon mutters.

"God gives his toughest battles to his most sleep-deprived soldiers," I say solemnly.

The boys turn the corner, and Jeonghan gasps like he's seeing me for the first time in years.

"There she is! The girl who haunts our group chat dreams!"

"Hello to you too," I say, rolling my eyes.

"We were just talking about how love can bloom in the quietest corners of a lunch period," Dokyeom says, completely unprovoked.

"Not this again."

"Sweetie," Jeonghan says, linking arms with me. "We're not saying you're in love. We're just saying if this were a drama, yesterday would've been the pilot episode, and the viewers are already emotionally invested."

Jihoon groans and we start walking.

"Anyway," I say casually, "what classes do we all have today?"

"History first for me," Jeonghan says. "Gonna sleep through 70% of it."

"I've got physics," Dokyeom sighs. "Pray for me."

"History," Jihoon mutters. "You too, right?"

I nod. "Yup. And Seungcheol, I think."

There's a subtle pause. Jeonghan smirks and Dokyeom quietly gasps. Jihoon speeds up like he's trying to leave the conversation physically.

"I swear we didn't plan that," Jeonghan says.

"Again, terrible liars."

At School – Before First Period: I'm heading toward History when someone falls into step beside me.

"Morning."

I turn. It's Seungcheol. Same hoodie (black this time), hair slightly damp like he just showered, eyes a little sleepy.

"Oh. Hey," I say, surprised. "Didn't think you were an 'early to school' kind of guy."

He shrugs. "Usually not. Got a ride today."

"From who?"

"Hyung."

He doesn't elaborate.

I nod like that explains something. "You ready to sit through Mr. Ahn's metaphors of doom again?"

"No," he says. "But I brought gum."

I grin. "A man with a plan."

He glances at me, lips twitching. "Want one?"

I blink. "Seriously?"

He offers me the pack like it's no big deal. I take one. Our fingers brush. (It means nothing. I tell myself that twice.)

"Thanks," I say.

He hums in response, and we walk the rest of the way in companionable silence. Not awkward. Just quiet. Safe.

History Class – Partner Work: Mr. Ahn's in rare form today, assigning a group analysis project and giving us exactly two class periods to finish it. "Pick someone near you," he says. "Someone you won't get distracted with."

Naturally, I turn to my right and meet Seungcheol's gaze at the same time he meets mine.

There's a silent moment of agreement.

We pair up again.

"Déjà vu," I say as we pull out our notes.

"You regretting it already?"

"Too soon to tell." He chuckles.

We start reading the passage together, breaking it down. He's sharp. More insightful than he lets on. His handwriting's messier today, and he keeps clicking his pen like it's a nervous habit. He only glances at me three times while I talk.

(Okay, four.)

And every time I catch him doing it, he looks away fast, like he got caught shoplifting. I pretend not to notice.

After Class – In the Hallway: I'm gathering my things when Jeonghan and Dokyeom ambush me like I just won a prize.

"So?" Jeonghan asks.

"How was group project part two?" Dokyeom grins.

"Educational," I say dryly. "About the text. And nothing else."

"Oh please," Jeonghan says. "I saw the gum exchange. Very flirty. Very symbolic."

"He handed me a stick of gum, not his heart."

"Same thing, if you squint."

Jihoon appears out of nowhere and shoves a worksheet into Jeonghan's chest. "This is what you should be focused on."

"Oh god," Jeonghan groans. "Homework? Already? YN, distract him."

"Yeah," Jihoon says. "That's going well."

I make a face. "You guys are insufferable."

And yet, when I glance down the hallway and see Seungcheol turning the corner—

I smile.

After Literature, the day picks up speed. There's a moment between classes where I find myself alone for the first time all day—just me and a hallway full of lockers and too-loud morning announcements. Jeonghan and Dokyeom are in gym. Jihoon had to go to the music room. Seungcheol disappeared like a vapor trail the second class ended.

So, for now, it's just me. And honestly? It's kind of nice.

Third Period – Environmental Science: I slide into a seat near the middle and pull out my notebook. The room smells like pencil shavings and leftover dissection trauma. There's a poster of a polar bear on the wall that looks weirdly judgmental.

A guy drops into the seat next to me a few seconds later. Tall-ish, tousled hair, blazer unbuttoned like a walking dress code violation.

"Hey," he says, friendly. "You're new, right?"

I blink. "Wow. How'd you guess?"

"You still look like you're trying to map out the school in your head."

"I am. I'm also emotionally invested in locating the vending machine that doesn't steal my money."

He grins. "West wing. Third floor. Kinda cursed, but it spits out two sodas if you hit it just right."

I squint. "You're joking."

"Only sometimes. I'm Taeyang, by the way."

"YN."

"Cool name."

"Cool vending machine tip."

He laughs, and the teacher calls class to attention before he can say anything else. We end up as lab partners for the day. He's sharp and surprisingly funny, and he doesn't hesitate to hand me the better pencil when mine breaks again.

It's... easy. Different.

Flirty, maybe?

No. I'm reading into it. Probably.

Fourth Period – Art

Art ends up being the class where I meet two girls who immediately adopt me like I'm their new emotionally damaged project.

"Transfer?" one of them asks, a girl with pink clips in her hair and a neon green pencil case that could double as a weapon.

I nod. "Is it that obvious?"

"You're not slumped over like the rest of us," the other one says, pulling out paintbrushes. "That's how you spot the new blood."

I laugh. "I'll slump soon. Just give me time."

They introduce themselves as Jiwon and Hyejin. We get paired up for the color theory project, and within ten minutes, they've added me to their group chat, offered me half their snacks, and told me everything about the "hallway couples ranking" that apparently exists.

They're weird. I like them immediately.

Halfway through class, Hyejin leans in. "Be honest. Are you dating that tall guy from lunch yesterday?"

"Who?"

"You were sitting across from him. Hoodie. Deep voice. Intense stare. He looked like he'd murder someone if they took the last bread from the cafeteria."

"...Seungcheol?"

"YES."

Jiwon hums. "He doesn't talk to people. And he laughed when you made that ramen joke."

"You were sitting near us?"

"We're professional eavesdroppers," Hyejin says proudly.

"She made him laugh," Jiwon repeats. "That's not normal."

"I'm not dating anyone," I say quickly.

But my face is warm and they notice. Of course they do.

By the time the final bell rings, I'm exhausted—but in a good way. Like I actually survived the day without totally embarrassing myself. I head to my locker, swinging my bag over my shoulder. As I round the corner, I see Taeyang again, leaning against the wall like it's his part-time job.

"Hey," he says when he sees me. "You made it through the cursed vending machine and polar bear judgment class."

"Barely," I say, smiling.

"You walking home?"

I hesitate.

Before I can answer, someone appears just past his shoulder—hands in his pockets, hoodie up.

Seungcheol.

He doesn't say anything at first. Just nods at me.

"You coming?"

It's directed at me. Not rude. Not rushed. Just... expectant. Like he already knows what the answer is.

Taeyang raises an eyebrow but steps aside. "Guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah," I say. "See you."

I fall into step beside Seungcheol as we head toward the school gate. He doesn't ask about the other guy. Doesn't say much at all. But his shoulders are a little stiffer than usual. And when he hands me a piece of gum again without looking at me? I take it. And I definitely notice the way his fingers linger an extra second this time.

"That guy," he says.

I glance at him. "Huh?"

He nods toward the building. "From earlier. Tall. Wavy hair. He was talking to you.”

Oh.

He means Taeyang.

"Right," I say slowly. "That's Taeyang."

He waits. Like maybe I'll offer more.

I do, eventually. "We had science together today. He's... chill."

"Chill," Seungcheol echoes, like it's a word he's holding up to the light.

I squint at him. "Why?"

"No reason."

There's a silence.

Not awkward. But dense.

He looks straight ahead, jaw tight in that unreadable way that makes me wonder if he's actually annoyed, or just thinking really, really hard.

"You don't like him?" I ask, half-teasing.

"I don't know him," he says. "I just—he looked familiar."

"You mean you were watching?"

He cuts me a look. "No."

I smirk. "You sound a little defensive."

"I'm not."

"You sure?"

He exhales slowly, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like "Jeonghan warned me."

I snort. "Okay. That's ominous."

He finally meets my eyes again. "He said you'd be loud. Smart. Kind of a menace."

"Accurate."

"He didn't say anything about the guy with the vending machine tips."

I blink.

And suddenly I get it.

"Oh my god," I say slowly. "Are you asking if I like him?"

His face doesn't change.

But his ears go pink.

"I'm just asking."

"Are you?"

He's quiet for a beat.

Then, without looking at me: "You seem... interested."

I raise an eyebrow. "And that matters to you?"

He freezes. Almost like that question knocked the wind out of him.

Neither of us has spoken for a few moments, but the quiet between us doesn't feel awkward—it feels... new. The kind of silence that makes your heart race a little faster because it feels full of possibilities. I shift on my feet, gripping the strap of my backpack, suddenly very aware of how close he's standing. Not close enough to touch, but close enough that I notice the warmth coming off his arm. If I leaned even slightly—

I don't.

Before I can say anything, voices ring across the courtyard. Jeonghan's dramatic tone and Dokyeom's telltale laughter echo toward us, Jihoon's quieter voice not far behind. The rest of our trio. I instinctively take a step back, just a small one. Not because I'm nervous—but because I can already hear the teasing. Sure enough, Jeonghan spots us and throws his arms out like he's discovered something scandalous.

"There you are!" he cries. "Were you two having a dramatic goodbye scene? Did I miss a confession? A single tear?"

Dokyeom gasps, clutching his chest. "They were definitely about to ride off into the sunset."

"We were just talking," I say, trying for casual but not quite managing it. I tug at the strap of my backpack. "Nothing scandalous."

Seungcheol laughs softly beside me, scratching the back of his neck. He looks flustered—but in a good way. A small smile tugs at his lips, and he doesn't move away.

"Just talking, huh?" Jeonghan peers between us, pretending to analyze the situation like a detective. "Then why are both of you blushing?"

"We are not—" I start, but Dokyeom gasps again, exaggerated.

"I knew it," he declares. "Even Jihoon can see the tension."

Jihoon raises an eyebrow. "I see a group of idiots standing in the way of me going home."

That shuts them up for half a second.

Seungcheol steps forward, lightly herding us toward the sidewalk. "Come on," he says, voice warm. "Let's walk."

The teasing simmers but doesn't disappear. Jeonghan throws an arm around my shoulder while Dokyeom hums some made-up theme song behind us. Jihoon trails behind with a dramatic sigh like he's already regretting this friendship.

Eventually, the group shifts and rearranges, and I find myself walking next to Seungcheol again. We're quiet for a few minutes. Our friends are louder ahead of us, bouncing jokes and stories back and forth like it's a game.

I don't mind the quiet. In fact, it feels... easy. Comfortable.

At some point, the group starts to split off—first Jihoon, then Jeonghan and Dokyeom, with parting quips that make me roll my eyes and laugh anyway. And then it's just me and Seungcheol again, heading toward my block under the soft pink-orange glow of sunset.

We slow near my house, and I turn toward him.

"Well," I say lightly, "this is me."

He nods, hands still tucked in his pockets. "Thanks for letting me walk with you."

"Thanks for not letting me get roasted alone," I reply, smiling.

His laugh is soft. "I tried my best."

A breeze picks up, rustling the trees overhead. I tug my hoodie sleeves over my hands and glance at him.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" I ask.

"You better," he says, and the easy way he says it makes my heart skip.

I laugh. "Okay. Goodnight, Seungcheol."

He offers a wave, stepping back a little. "Goodnight, YN."

Just a quiet goodbye, a shared smile, and something lingering in the air—something that feels like the beginning of whatever this is turning into.

The next month is... a lot. In the best, most overwhelming, "how is it still only October?" kind of way.

I start to feel more settled. My locker stops rebelling against me. The cafeteria lady remembers my name (and my love for extra dumplings). I finally master the timing of the vending machines, so I don't end up behind the juniors who take ten years to choose between chips.

I make more friends, too. A few girls from chemistry. A tall kid from art class who speaks exclusively in dramatic metaphors. Taeyang, who seems weirdly dedicated to impressing me.

And I mean dedicated.

Every other day, he's got some new joke or skill to show off.

"You like magic tricks?" "Not particularly." "Too bad. Pick a card."

He's sweet. Harmless. His confidence is... kind of admirable, in a dizzying, secondhand-embarrassment way. But he's not the one I keep looking for across the hallway.

That's still Seungcheol. Or it was, anyway.

Things started off light. Banter. Subtle smiles. The kind of soft teasing that made my stomach flip. But lately... something's changed. He's still kind. Still around. But the playful touches and lingering glances? Gone. Like he flipped a switch.

One day we're laughing about Jihoon's handwriting in homeroom, and the next, he's slipping out early without a word. I can't tell if I did something wrong. If I imagined all of it. And maybe I'd spiral about it more if life didn't hit the accelerate button halfway through the month. Because that's when the transfers arrived.

Sonya. Wonwoo. Mingyu.

Sonya and I clicked instantly—like, soul-twin, "why haven't we met before?" levels of fast. She's sharp, effortlessly cool, and chaotic in all the best ways. The kind of person who could break your heart or braid your hair while texting four people at once. She's already doodled all over my notebooks and claimed the empty seat next to me in nearly every class we have together.

Wonwoo is quiet, unreadable, and low-key the reason Sonya's been wearing lip gloss every day. I caught her once staring at him during physics like he was the main plot and Newton's Laws were filler. She hasn't denied it.

And then there's Mingyu.

He's tall. Stupidly tall. With a smile so dazzling it should come with a warning label. The second he tripped over a desk in the middle of our history class and tried to play it off by finger-gunning the teacher, I felt it—just the tiniest flutter. A tiny, potentially dangerous flutter.

We started talking after class. Nothing big. Just little moments. Laughing at the same memes. Complaining about Mr. Cho's ancient projector. And maybe, just maybe, I started to enjoy seeing him walk through the door a little more than I should've.

Our friend group grows faster than I can keep track of. One minute it's just us—me, Jeonghan, DK, Jihoon, and (sometimes) Seungcheol—and the next, we've absorbed half the school.

Soonyoung (the human equivalent of a triple-shot espresso). Joshua (so nice it's suspicious). Jun and Minghao (from China, both effortlessly cool and too pretty to be real). Vernon (the calm one who quietly says the funniest thing you've ever heard). Chan, who insists we call him Dino and corrects us every single time. And Seungkwan, who could probably emcee the school assembly and a karaoke night back to back.

It's a lot. But it's also kind of magical.

There's something about walking into the courtyard and seeing all of them spread out—laughing, shouting over each other, fighting over snacks—and realizing they're my people now. This is my world. And it's getting bigger, louder, better by the day.

Still, every now and then, I catch Seungcheol watching from the sidelines. Not distant, exactly. Just... unsure. Like he's holding something back. And I don't know if it's because of me. But I miss the way we used to orbit closer. I miss the tension, the teasing. The not-so-subtle "maybe" that hung in the air between us. I don't know what's happening anymore.

Then:

It starts with a pencil.

Not in a cliché, "he lent me his and our fingers brushed" kind of way. No, it's much more embarrassing than that.

I forgot mine during a quiz. And panicked.

Mingyu noticed before I could even fake confidence. He tapped his pencil twice on his desk, then slid it toward me with a little smirk like he was waiting for me to crumble.

"You look like you were about to borrow Jihoon's soul instead," he whispered.

I stared at the pencil, then at him. "You're a lifesaver."

"No worries," he grinned. "But you owe me. Pencil tax."

"What's pencil tax?"

"I'll come up with something dramatic later."

And he did.

Later turned into a boba run after school, "to repay the pencil debt." He insisted on paying anyway, even though I argued it defeated the purpose. "Consider it interest," he said, before handing me my favorite drink—somehow, he remembered. Things like that keep happening.

He finds me at lunch, dropping into the seat across from me like he's always been there. Laughs a little too hard at my jokes. Offers to carry my books between classes. Sometimes I catch him watching me from across the room, and when I glance back, he just grins like I've proven a point he never said out loud.

Sonya teases me constantly now. Elbows me every time Mingyu says something even vaguely flirty. "You like him," she sings once, and I almost launch a shoe at her.

But she's not entirely wrong. There's a tension there. A spark. Something light and new and easy. And it's exciting. Still... it feels different. Not better, not worse. Just different.

Like Mingyu flirts to make me smile—and Seungcheol used to flirt like he couldn't help it.

And lately, Seungcheol's been quieter than ever.

I still catch him around the group. He's still himself, still warm, still steady. But he doesn't sit next to me anymore when there's space. Doesn't say much unless someone asks. There's a distance there now, soft and subtle but noticeable if you're looking. Which I am.

Especially when I see him glance between me and Mingyu and then look away, like something stings and he's pretending it doesn't.

Jeonghan notices, of course. He watches me watch Seungcheol like he's tracking subtext in a romcom and mentally rating our tension out of ten.

Meanwhile, Dokyeom's thriving on the chaos. He makes jokes. "So YN's starting a love triangle? Bold of you this early in the year." He says it with popcorn in hand like he's waiting for someone to make a dramatic confession under the bleachers.

Jihoon, as always, is unimpressed. "It's not a triangle," he mutters one afternoon. "It's a bunch of teenagers too emotionally repressed to talk to each other."

"Beautiful," Jeonghan says. "Poetic. But I'm still taking bets."

I don't say much. Because I don't know how I feel. Mingyu is warm, sweet, and charming. He makes me laugh. He makes it easy. But Seungcheol still lingers in my head—quiet and careful and frustrating in a way that makes me miss him even when we're standing in the same room.

And if I'm honest? I don't know who I want to pull me closer first. But I know I'm waiting for someone to try.

It all comes to a head on a Wednesday.

We're at the table behind the science building, the one our whole group's unofficially claimed as our own. It's shaded, slightly cracked, and only fits half of us comfortably, which means someone's always sitting on the tabletop, legs swinging over the side, or plopped on the ground with a bag as a makeshift pillow.

Today, it's a full house. Joshua's trying to teach Jun and Minghao how to play some card game with far too many rules. Dino's munching chips and yelling "no spoilers!" every time someone even hints at the ending of the movie we're watching this weekend. Seungkwan is explaining, in alarming detail, the ranking of idol survival shows based on emotional damage. It's chaos. Loud and colorful and familiar.

I'm perched on the bench beside Sonya, legs crossed under me, sipping a cold drink she made me try from the corner store. It's too sweet. I love it anyway. Mingyu flops down dramatically across from us, hair ruffled, tie loose around his neck. "Is it hot, or is it just me?"

"It's always just you," Seungkwan mutters.

"It's hot," I say, fanning myself with a worksheet. "Maybe you shouldn't sprint here from PE like the main character in a drama."

"Hey, I make it look good," Mingyu winks.

Sonya leans toward me, whispering out of the side of her mouth, "He's flirting again."

"I know."

"Do you like it?"

"I don't know."

Across the table, Seungcheol's quiet. He's sitting with his elbows on his knees, picking at the label of his water bottle. Not sulking, exactly. But not present, either. He hasn't joined in the conversation, hasn't made a snarky remark in minutes. He only glances up when I laugh at something Mingyu says.

And it's a glance like a paper cut—quick, sharp, barely there, but it stings all the same.

Later, I sit on the edge of the table with Sonya and Jun, dangling my legs while they argue about the worst cafeteria meals. Mingyu comes up behind me and taps my shoulder with the back of his hand.

"Hey, YN. I was wondering—do you wanna study for the bio quiz later? I was gonna hit the library after school."

Before I can answer, I feel eyes on me. I look up instinctively, and sure enough—across the yard, Seungcheol's looking right at us. I freeze. He doesn't. He just holds my gaze for a beat too long, then turns away like nothing happened.

"Uh, maybe," I tell Mingyu. "Let me check my notes. I'll text you."

He beams. "Cool. No pressure."

As he walks away, Sonya nudges me again. "You're torn," she whispers.

"Yeah," I breathe. "I think I am."

Because here's the thing: Mingyu makes me feel wanted. But Seungcheol makes me feel seen.

And lately, I'm starting to realize—those aren't the same thing.

That night, Jeonghan calls me.

"I'm just saying," he starts without so much as a hello, "I've never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You do."

"I really don't."

There's a pause.

Then, softer: "Do you like him?"

I don't answer. Mostly because I don't know how.

Jeonghan sighs. "YN. Look, I'm not trying to rush you. But you gotta figure it out before someone gets hurt."

He doesn't say who. He doesn't have to.

The next day, Seungcheol doesn't sit next to me in class. And I realize it's the first time in weeks he hasn't. Something's shifting. And I have no idea which way it's about to go.

By Friday, I've had enough.

Enough of the tension, the unreadable glances, the way Seungcheol pulls away just when it feels like we're getting close. It's like trying to hold smoke. One second he's warm and steady by my side—the next, he's distant, half-vanished, like I imagined the whole thing.

And I'm tired of waiting. For a look. For a sign. For a maybe. So I make a choice. It starts with a simple yes.

"Yes," I say, turning toward Mingyu in the middle of lunch, interrupting a story about the disastrous time he tried to cook instant noodles without water.

"Yes?"

"To studying," I clarify, smiling. "Today. After school. I'm free."

He grins like I just handed him front-row tickets to his own birthday party. "Really? Nice. I'll even buy you snacks. Brain fuel. My treat."

"Careful," Jeonghan chimes in, not even looking up from his phone. "She has expensive taste."

"She eats hot Cheetos and banana milk like it's a five-star combo," Jihoon deadpans.

"She's consistent," Dokyeom defends, patting my back. "I respect that."

Mingyu laughs, turning back to me. "Whatever you want. I'm just happy you said yes."

It's cute. He's cute.

And when he smiles like that—boyish, soft around the edges—I let myself feel it. The flutter in my chest. The way my cheeks warm just slightly. I let myself feel wanted.

After school, we sit across from each other at the library table closest to the window. Golden light filters through the blinds, striping his notebook and my half-eaten snack bag. He's easy to talk to. Funny. A little clumsy—he drops his pen twice and accidentally elbows his drink across the table—but he makes me laugh in the way that makes your stomach clench and your jaw ache.

We quiz each other until the sun dips low enough that the librarian flips the lights on, and even then, we don't leave right away. We just linger—talking about music, favorite ramen shops, weird childhood dreams.

I don't realize I've been smiling for most of it until Mingyu says, "I like it when you laugh."

"What?"

He shrugs sheepishly. "You laugh like you mean it. Like it takes over your whole face."

And I feel it again—that tiny flutter. Except this time, there's no guilt tethered to it.

"I laugh a lot around you," I say, quiet but honest.

He doesn't say anything. Just reaches out and flicks a crumb from my sleeve with this soft, fond expression that makes something in me shift.

Maybe I'm allowed to like this. Maybe I'm allowed to let it happen.

The following day, I walk into school and find Jeonghan already waiting at my locker like a nosy guardian angel.

"So?" he asks, eyes twinkling. "How was your little study date?"

"It wasn't a date," I say, unlocking my locker.

He gasps. "That means it went well."

I roll my eyes, but I can't help but smile. "It was... nice. Mingyu's nice."

He hums. "Seungcheol's been sulking."

I glance at him sharply. "What?"

He shrugs. "Didn't say anything, but he had That Look on his face when you left with Mingyu. You know the one."

I don't answer. Because I do know the one. And because part of me wants to look back and ask, why didn't he say anything? But I don't.

Instead, I close my locker and say, "Well, I'm done waiting."

And for the first time in weeks, I mean it.

The next few days are a whirlwind. Mingyu finds any excuse to talk to me—passing notes in class, sliding into group conversations with ease, offering me the last choco pie from his lunchbox like it's a rare gem. It's sweet. He's sweet.

After all, Seungcheol has been nothing but quiet glances and half-smiles lately. A ghost of what we almost were, if we were ever anything at all. And I'm not chasing ghosts anymore.

So when Mingyu slings his arm over my shoulders during a group project and leans in a little too close to whisper a joke in my ear—I laugh. Loudly. And I feel Seungcheol's eyes on me across the room. Burning. Brief. Then gone.

It happens again at lunch. Mingyu's sitting beside me, our knees brushing beneath the table, and he's animatedly recounting a story about him and Wonwoo getting chased by a rogue cat outside a convenience store. My head tips back in laughter just as Seungcheol sits down across from us, tray clattering a little louder than necessary.

Dokyeom clocks it immediately. His eyes dart between Seungcheol and me like he's watching a tennis match.

"So," he says loudly, drawing out the word, "how's the new dynamic duo?"

"Us?"

Mingyu flashes that dimpled grin. "We make a good team. YN's the brains, I'm the moral support."

"And the walking disaster," I tease, nudging his knee.

Seungcheol's fork pauses midair.

Jeonghan leans back in his seat, hands behind his head, wearing the smuggest grin I've ever seen. "You know, this is fascinating. Really. The romantic tension in this group is going to reach critical mass soon."

"You're not allowed to turn real life into fanfiction," Jihoon says flatly, not looking up from his lunch.

Minghao glances between all of us, brows raised. "Do I want to know?"

"No," Seungcheol mutters, stabbing a piece of kimchi like it insulted him personally.

I glance at him, heart hiccuping at the tension in his jaw. There's something different in his gaze today. Not soft. Not shy. Sharp, almost. And for the first time, I'm the one feeling watched. Later, after lunch, as I'm walking to class with Sonya and Mingyu, I hear footsteps fall into rhythm beside me. Seungcheol.

"Hey," he says, voice low. He's not looking at me, just forward.

"Hey," I echo, unsure.

A pause.

Then, suddenly: "You and Mingyu."

I glance at him. "What about us?"

"Are you...?" He trails off, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "Never mind."

I stop walking. "Cheol."

He stops too, just ahead of me. Turns around slowly. His expression is unreadable. Quiet and conflicted in that Seungcheol way I'm starting to resent a little. The silence stretches until it stings.

"You don't get to ask," I say softly. "Not if you're not going to answer anything yourself."

He swallows. Nods once. "Fair."

Then he walks away. I stay frozen for a moment, heart tight in my chest.

Behind me, Mingyu gently touches my arm. "You okay?"

I turn to him. Smile. "Yeah. Let's go."

Because maybe Seungcheol is finally feeling something. But right now, I want someone who's showing it. And Mingyu's hand brushing mine as we walk says more than Seungcheol ever has.

Over the next week, Mingyu becomes a permanent fixture at my side.

At lunch, he claims the spot next to me before anyone else can. In the hallway, his hand always hovers a little too close to mine. When we're paired for assignments, he grins like he's just won the lottery.

I don't stop him. If anything, I lean in—literally and figuratively.

"YN, are you even listening?" Mingyu nudges me during study hall.

I blink, caught mid-daydream. "Huh?"

He chuckles, tilting his head, his smile doing that devastating thing again. "I was saying if we survive this group project, I owe you bubble tea. But now I'm thinking you owe me one, for enduring your zoning out."

"I was thinking deeply about math, thank you very much."

He raises an eyebrow. "Right. Totally math. Not me."

I roll my eyes. "Don't flatter yourself, Kim." But my grin gives me away.

After school, he walks me home. Not always—but more often than not. He kicks pebbles down the sidewalk and talks about his dog, his love for horror movies, how he once tried to dye his hair blue and ended up looking like a Smurf. I laugh until my stomach hurts. And I realize—somewhere along the way—I look forward to this. To him.

He's warm, magnetic, easy in a way that makes me want to stay close. And he's not shy about how he feels, either.

"You ever gonna let me take you out?" he asks one evening, casual like it's not the question that's been hanging in the air for days.

I freeze for a heartbeat, startled. "Is that what this has been? You flirting with me to get a date?"

He chuckles. "What gave it away?"

"I don't know... the constant compliments? The boba bribes?"

"Hey," he says, feigning offense, "you never said no to the boba."

I smile. "Maybe I didn't want to."

He slows to a stop, just outside my gate, backpack slung over one shoulder. "So? You gonna let me?"

There's a beat of silence between us. Then I step forward, poking him lightly in the chest. "Only if you let me pay for the second date."

His grin is immediate. "Deal."

Across the street, someone calls his name—Wonwoo, waiting at the corner.

"I'll text you," Mingyu says as he jogs backward, that smile never leaving his face. "Don't ghost me, YN!"

"I won't!" I call, heart thudding in my chest.

And I mean it.

This feels like me choosing myself. Even if, somewhere deep down, part of me wonders what Seungcheol would've done if I hadn't said yes.

It only takes a day for the news to travel.

Okay, maybe not "news" exactly—but in the world of high school hallways and group chats that never sleep, one look at the way Mingyu slings an arm around my shoulder as we walk into school the next morning is enough to set the tone.

"So," Sonya drawls, flopping into her seat beside me in homeroom, "did I miss the memo or are we officially crushing on the tall golden retriever now?"

I open my mouth to deny it—and immediately close it again when Mingyu appears in the doorway and flashes me that sunbeam of a smile.

Sonya follows my gaze. "Aha."

We haven't labeled anything, not really. But when we sit next to each other in class, his knee taps mine like a secret. When we pass each other in the hallway, his fingers find mine for a second longer than necessary. During lunch, he doesn't even ask before dropping his tray next to mine like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"You two are gross," Jeonghan declares one afternoon, after watching Mingyu wipe sauce from the corner of my mouth with his thumb.

I snort into my drink. "Says the guy who made Dokyeom recreate a proposal with a bread roll in the cafeteria last week."

"That was performance art," Dokyeom argues, dead serious.

Seungcheol, sitting across from me, says nothing. He's been quieter lately—still around, still part of the group, but the easy rhythm we were building before has shifted. I catch him watching sometimes—his gaze lingering a little too long, his laugh just a beat late. And when Mingyu leans in close to whisper something in my ear, I swear Seungcheol's whole body tenses, just for a second.

Jihoon notices too. I can tell by the way he watches Seungcheol watching me. But he doesn't say anything. Just occasionally shoots me a look across the table like he's silently asking, You good? I am. I think.

Mingyu makes it easy. He's warm and silly, and ridiculously charming in that "trip over his own feet and still land cool" kind of way. He gives me attention without making it feel like pressure. He listens when I ramble about my favorite books, offers to carry my backpack when I'm too tired, and remembers that I like exactly three ice cubes in my iced coffee—not two, not four, three.

We aren't official. But everyone knows So when Mingyu finds me by the vending machine after sixth period and grins, I already know something ridiculous is coming.

"Date idea," he says. "We recreate that scene from Titanic."

"You mean—the boat?"

"No," he says seriously. "The door. We build a raft and test whether both of us could've survived."

I stare at him. "Why are you like this?"

He just shrugs, still grinning. "If we're gonna be iconic, we might as well start now."

I laugh, and his fingers brush mine, soft and deliberate. Behind him, down the hall, I catch Seungcheol standing by his locker. Our eyes meet. And just like that, the breath in my chest wobbles. But Mingyu's hand finds mine again, and the moment passes.

At lunch the next day, Jeonghan pokes me on the side as he plops down beside me. "So... when's the wedding?"

I throw a carrot stick at his head. Dokyeom catches it mid-air and eats it like it's a treat. Jihoon rolls his eyes so hard they practically leave orbit. And across the table, Seungcheol watches me and Mingyu laugh with that unreadable expression again—like he's trying to figure out when exactly everything changed. And maybe—just maybe—he's wondering if it's too late to change it back.

Then, a note. Not a text. Not a DM. A literal folded-up scrap of notebook paper slipped under my water bottle during lunch while I'm deep in conversation with Sonya.

I blink down at it: For YN (a very important human). Do not open until after lunch. This is very serious.

I raise an eyebrow.

Across the table, Mingyu is very busy pretending he isn't watching me. He's focused on peeling the sticker off his banana like it's a bomb he's disarming.

"Did you just—" I start.

"—hmm?" he says innocently, eyes wide. "Banana?"

Sonya leans in. "Girl, open it."

I wait. I do. But the second the lunch bell rings and trays start clattering, I unfold the note. Inside, written in very questionable handwriting and at least two different pen colors:

YN,

This is going to sound cooler in my head than it probably does in real life, but go with me here:

You're one of my favorite people. You're funny and smart and terrifyingly good at making fun of me. You make school days feel like movie scenes. And I like being near you. So I was wondering— Wanna go on a date?

Like a real one. Just me. Just you. No Jeonghan hiding in a tree with binoculars (hopefully). Just us.

I can even promise I won't talk about conspiracy theories or make you taste-test my weird smoothie recipes. (Unless you want to.) Check yes or yes:

[] yes [] also yes — Mingyu

P.S. If this note flopped, pretend I dropped it by accident and never read it. I'll fake a nosebleed and run.

Mingyu is still at the trash can, very slowly and very dramatically throwing away a banana peel like he's buying himself time to pretend this isn't happening.

I stand, and he turns, eyes locking with mine, hopeful and slightly terrified. I hold up the note, shake it once in the air, then grin. "You forgot a box that says obviously."

His jaw drops, and Sonya whoops behind me. Mingyu bolts over like a golden retriever off the leash. "Wait, is that—was that a yes? That's a yes, right?"

I laugh. "Yes, Kim Mingyu. It's a yes." He fist pumps. Loudly. And then, without warning, spins me in a circle like we're in a Disney Channel hallway. We nearly knock over a trash can.

Jihoon—passing by—pauses, blinks, and just mutters, "I hate all of you," before walking off.

That night, I text him:

Where are we going?

He sends back:

Anywhere. But I hear the smoothie place by your house now has a "girlfriend discount."

Me: ...so that's what this was about.

Mingyu: Only partially. Mostly I just like you. Also I need you to tell me if my shirt options are ugly.

The Date: The smoothie shop near my house is a little too on-the-nose. Cute fairy lights strung across the windows, chalkboard specials written in curly letters, and some kind of acoustic cover of "Love Story" playing faintly over the speakers. It feels like it should be cheesy. But with Mingyu bouncing beside me in a denim jacket two sizes too big, it just feels right.

"This is totally not a first date spot," I tease as we step inside.

"Oh, no," he says seriously. "It's way better. I figured, why not take the prettiest girl I know to the ugliest-tasting smoothie bar in Seoul?"

"Wait, the smoothies are bad?"

"Terrible," he grins, eyes crinkling. "But the straws are biodegradable."

We both burst out laughing. We order something purple and suspicious-looking, and Mingyu insists on paying ("They're giving me the loyal customer in love discount," he claims). He grabs the booth in the corner, then proceeds to quiz me on my zombie apocalypse plan, my Hogwarts house, and whether I believe in aliens.

"Your ideal date involves conspiracy theories and doomsday scenarios?" I laugh.

"Only if they end with me holding your hand."

My face burns. He's grinning like a goof and not even trying to be smooth—but that's the thing. It works on me. Everything about him does.

Later, we walk to the nearby park, still sipping from those stupid smoothies and talking about everything from childhood dreams to who we'd pick as our three-person heist team (Mingyu, of course, picks himself three times). And as the sun dips low, casting pink and gold across the sky, Mingyu reaches for my hand. Not in a big, dramatic way. Just a soft brush, fingers curling slowly around mine like he's testing the waters.

I let him. And squeeze back.

The Next Day – Lunch Table Chaos: I barely sit down at our usual lunch table before Sonya blurts, "So? How was it?!"

Dokyeom nearly spills his milk. "Wait—it happened?!"

Jeonghan, of course, is already leaning across the table like an aunt at a family reunion. "Tell us everything. Did he cry? He looks like he'd cry on first dates."

"He did not cry," I laugh, stealing a bite of Sonya's lunch. "But he did try to convince me Bigfoot is a misunderstood forest gentleman."

"I stand by that," Mingyu calls out from the other side, cheeks puffed with rice.

Joshua, wide-eyed and clutching his tray, just hums. "Honestly? I kinda believe that."

"Of course you do," Jihoon mutters, stabbing at his food.

I glance around, still giggling from the whirlwind of voices—and that's when I notice. Seungcheol isn't here. The realization hits me like a wrong note in an otherwise perfect chord. His usual spot, right across from Jihoon, is empty. Untouched lunch tray. Unclaimed seat.

"Where's Cheol?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

Jihoon doesn't look up. "Said he wasn't hungry."

Jeonghan glances at me briefly, something unreadable flashing in his eyes before he shrugs. "Probably sulking about that gym class dodgeball loss." But he's lying. I can tell.

And when Sonya nudges me under the table and raises her eyebrows, I realize she knows it too.

Mingyu, bless his oblivious heart, just throws an arm over the back of my chair and starts talking about a new movie he wants us to watch together. And I nod and laugh and listen...

But in the corner of my mind, all I can think about is that empty seat—and what it might mean.

Later That Day — After School: The hallway is quieter than usual. Most students have already scattered, and I linger near the lockers, heart thudding just a little faster than normal.

I spot him down the corridor—leaning against the vending machine, hood up, staring blankly at the row of drinks like they personally offended him.

"Hey," I say softly, stepping up beside him.

Seungcheol doesn't look at me right away. He just shoves some coins into the machine and presses a button. "Hey."

I rock back on my heels. "You missed lunch."

"Yeah," he mutters. The bottle thuds into the slot below, and he bends to grab it.

I pause. "You okay?"

He twists the cap off the drink. Shrugs. "Just had stuff to do."

"Right," I nod slowly. "Important vending machine business."

That gets the faintest twitch of his lips—but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"I noticed you didn't say much today." I tilt my head, watching him. "Everything cool between us?"

He finally looks at me. His gaze is steady, a little guarded, but not cold. "You and Mingyu looked pretty happy."

The shift in my stomach is immediate. I blink. "We are," I say carefully. "But that doesn't mean I want... weirdness between us."

Seungcheol huffs out a quiet breath—half laugh, half sigh. "There's no weirdness, YN."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure," he says, offering a small smile that looks practiced. "We're good."

But I don't quite believe him. He takes a sip of his drink, and before I can say anything else, he pushes off the vending machine and gives me a gentle nod. "See you tomorrow."

And just like that, he walks off. And it hurts more than I expected.

The Rest of the Week — Group Dynamics Shift: By Tuesday, things settle... sort of.

Mingyu's still walking me to class with his ridiculous grin and carrying my backpack like it's a love declaration. Sonya has become the official president of the Mingyu and YN Defense Squad (self-appointed, naturally). Dokyeom and Jeonghan are insufferable about it, whispering behind their hands every time Mingyu so much as breathes near me.

"Should we start planning the wedding now, or...?" Jeonghan hums, scrolling on his phone.

"I call best man," Dokyeom says immediately.

"You're both banned," I deadpan.

But behind the teasing, I notice the subtle shifts.

Seungcheol still shows up—but he's quieter. Laughs when someone cracks a joke, but it doesn't stick. He doesn't sit next to me anymore. Doesn't meet my eyes as often. Even Jihoon notices.

"You know," he says one afternoon, sitting across from me as we all do homework at the café down the block, "he's not mad at you."

I look up from my notebook. "I never said he was."

"You don't have to," Jihoon says bluntly. "Just saying... he's still figuring out how to be okay."

I glance toward where Seungcheol sits at the far end of the booth, headphones in, nodding along to whatever playlist he's buried in. He looks calm. But I know him well enough now to recognize a performance when I see one.

Still, I can't bring myself to fix it. Not yet. Not when I'm still trying to figure out if I made the right choice—or if this ache in my chest is trying to tell me something I'm not ready to admit.

Thursday Evening – My Room: My curtains are drawn, the soft yellow glow from my desk lamp the only light in the room. The usual clutter—books, my hoodie draped over the chair, a pair of mismatched socks near the bed—makes it feel lived in, but tonight, it just feels... still.

I'm lying on my stomach, chin resting on my crossed arms, while Jihoon sits in the beanbag near the window. He's been here for about an hour, supposedly helping me revise for our bio quiz. But so far, we've gotten through maybe one and a half flashcards.

My head's been elsewhere. And Jihoon knows it.

"Okay," he finally says, flipping the flashcard in his hand without even looking at it. "Spit it out."

"What?"

"You've been sighing like a drama heroine for the past twenty minutes," he deadpans. "What's going on in that overactive brain of yours?"

I let out another sigh for good measure. "It's nothing."

Jihoon levels me with a look. "YN."

I groan and bury my face in my arms. "It's just... everything."

"Be more vague," he says dryly. "I dare you."

I push myself up so I'm sitting cross-legged, fiddling with the string on my sweatpants. "It's Mingyu. And Seungcheol. And me. And the universe, probably."

"That narrows it down."

I toss a pillow at him. He dodges it with a smirk and waits.

"I like Mingyu," I admit quietly. "I really do. He's funny, and sweet, and he makes everything feel easy."

Jihoon nods, not saying anything yet.

"But..." I pause. "There's always a but, isn't there?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Usually."

"It's just—Cheol." My voice dips without meaning to. "He's been pulling away, and I keep wondering if I did something wrong. If... I misread everything from the beginning."

Jihoon leans his head back against the wall, thoughtful. "You didn't misread it."

I look up, surprised. "What?"

"He likes you," Jihoon says simply. "It's obvious. Has been since the second he met you."

"Then why—?"

"Because he's Seungcheol," Jihoon shrugs. "He cares too much and doesn't always know what to do with it."

I chew on my bottom lip, heart heavy. "So now what? I'm dating Mingyu. I chose him. But... sometimes I still catch Seungcheol looking at me like—like he's still hoping."

Jihoon doesn't respond right away. He watches me for a long moment, then finally speaks.

"You don't have to have all the answers right now. But you do have to be honest—with yourself and with them. Especially with Mingyu."

That hits a little too close. I look down, twisting the cardigan sleeve I'm wearing—Seungcheol's cardigan, still folded around me like a comfort I can't let go of.

"I didn't mean for it to get this complicated," I whisper.

"Yeah, well," Jihoon mutters, grabbing a second flashcard. "It's high school. Welcome to the chaos."

I huff a quiet laugh, even as my heart tightens in my chest.

Jihoon's about to say something else when my door creaks open without warning.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything scandalous," Sonya says, poking her head in with a teasing grin. "But someone left the kettle on, and I figured you'd want tea before your existential crisis fully peaks."

"You made tea?"

"Peppermint," she says, stepping into the room and holding out a steaming mug like peace offering. "And don't worry—I added a spoon of honey, because you look like you've been dragged through three emotional monologues and a slow burn romance arc."

Jihoon snorts from his beanbag. "She's halfway through act three, yeah."

"Perfect," Sonya says, settling cross-legged beside me and handing over the mug. "Now spill. What's the verdict? Are we madly in love with Mingyu? Or is the Seungcheol situation still taking up real estate in your head?"

My cheeks burn. "You guys make it sound like I'm living in a soap opera."

"You kind of are," Sonya says, not unkindly. "With less backstabbing and more brooding hallway glances."

"She's not wrong," Jihoon murmurs.

I take a sip of tea, the warmth blooming in my chest like something close to comfort. "It's not that I don't like Mingyu," I say quietly. "I do. He's... everything, really. And I'm happy."

Sonya hums. "But?"

I stare at the rim of my mug. "But sometimes I think about Seungcheol. And not in a what if I picked him instead kind of way, just... in this quiet, sad sort of way. Like we missed something."

Sonya is quiet for a beat. "I think that's allowed," she says finally. "You're not a robot. You're allowed to feel complicated things."

Jihoon sighs like this entire conversation has emotionally aged him ten years. "You should just host a love triangle support group at this point. I'll make snacks."

Sonya grins. "I'll bring tissues."

I laugh, setting the mug on my nightstand. "You guys are the worst."

"But also the best," Sonya says, bumping her shoulder into mine. "And for what it's worth? Mingyu clearly adores you. And Seungcheol... well, let's just say the boy's been looking like a kicked puppy every time you're not around."

"That's an insult to puppies," Jihoon mutters, but he doesn't deny it.

I bury my face in my hands and groan. "This is so messy."

Sonya leans back on her palms, giving me a knowing look. "Yeah. But if anyone's going to make it through high school love geometry without combusting, it's you."

Jihoon lifts his mug in mock toast. "To surviving teenage angst."

I lift mine too. "Barely."

Sonya smiles, clinking her mug against ours. "To the chaos. And to figuring it out."

If you had told me a month ago that I'd start dating Mingyu, spend almost every lunch by his side, walk home with our hands brushing more often than not, and then break up without a single tear or fight—I would've laughed in your face.

But here we are. A month later. Still sitting across from each other at lunch. Still teasing, still bickering like always. The only difference now? There's no flutter in my chest when he smiles. No skipped heartbeat when our shoulders bump. And the same goes for him.

It didn't happen all at once. There wasn't a big moment or a dramatic shift. Just... a series of little ones.

The way our conversations started drifting toward other people. How we started hanging out with the group more than just the two of us. How I stopped overthinking my texts, and he stopped calling me babe and went back to YN without either of us flinching.

And then one night, walking home, we looked at each other and just kind of... laughed.

"This feels weird, right?" he said, tugging at his hoodie strings.

I snorted. "So weird."

He smiled at me. "I think I like you better as my chaos partner."

"Same," I said without missing a beat. "You're a terrible flirt anyway."

"Wow," he gasped, clutching his chest. "And to think I almost let you meet my dog."

"You don't even have a dog."

"I was gonna get one for the bit!"

We broke up right there on the sidewalk—if you can even call it that. No tears. No bitterness. Just two people realizing the thing they were holding onto so carefully wasn't quite the thing they thought it was. And that was okay.

Of course, the group didn't take it quite as smoothly.

"You what?" Jeonghan asked the next morning at lunch, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head.

"We broke up," I said simply, popping a grape into my mouth.

Dokyeom blinked. "Since when?"

"Last night."

"And you're... fine?" Jeonghan asked, narrowing his eyes like he was waiting for the emotional breakdown to surface.

"We're good," Mingyu confirmed, sitting beside me and digging into his sandwich like he hadn't just blown everyone's minds.

Jihoon, across the table, barely looked up from his notes. "Told you it wasn't gonna last," he mumbled, scribbling something in his margins.

"Wow, thanks for the optimism, Ji," I said dryly.

He shrugged. "You're happier now. That's what matters."

Meanwhile, Soonyoung sat frozen, blinking rapidly. "Wait. So you're not together? At all?"

"Nope."

"And there's... no secret pining? No dramatic tension? No hidden love letters?"

Mingyu and I looked at each other and then back at him. "Nope," we said in unison.

Soonyoung slumped dramatically in his seat. "Man, what's the point of even being in high school if we're not living in a K-drama?"

Joshua laughed from down the table. "They're being adults about it. You should try it sometime."

"Never," Soonyoung replied. "I live for the drama."

Mingyu just leaned back, grinning. "Then you're watching the wrong couple."

Everyone's gaze collectively shifted.

And I didn't even have to look to know who they were looking at.

Because the moment that sentence left Mingyu's mouth, I could feel it.

The way Seungcheol went quiet across the courtyard. The way his eyes flicked to me just a second too long. The way Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, and Jihoon sighed like he was already bracing for what came next.

But that? That's another story.

For now, I'm single again. And strangely at peace.

Mingyu and I still share jokes. Sonya's still my right-hand girl. And Seungcheol... well. He's still watching from a distance.

The rest of lunch goes by in a blur of half-listened conversations and forced laughter. Mingyu's still cracking jokes, Sonya's nudging my elbow every time someone mentions anything remotely flirty, and Dokyeom keeps dramatically reenacting his imagined version of our breakup like it was some tragic K-drama finale.

"But what about the line, YN?" he cries, clutching his chest. "The 'I like you better as my chaos partner'—oh my god, it's like Shakespeare in hoodies."

"Please stop," I mutter, hiding my face behind my water bottle.

Seungcheol hasn't said a word.

He's at the end of the table, poking at his rice like it personally offended him, occasionally muttering something to Jihoon or Vernon but otherwise staying quiet. I sneak a glance his way and catch him already looking. He looks away just as fast.

I sigh and peel the wrapper off my snack bar with too much force, the plastic crinkling louder than it should.

He's been like this for weeks now—ever since I started getting closer to Mingyu. No more casual banter, no more half-smiles between classes, no more sarcastic jabs that made my stomach flip for no good reason. He hasn't been rude, exactly. Just... distant. Neutral. Professional, almost. Like we're classmates, not friends. Like we never spent an entire walk home laughing about nothing. Like he never let his hand rest on the small of my back like it meant something. It's driving me insane.

After lunch, I catch up with Sonya while heading to science class.

"Okay," she says, pushing her hair out of her face, "you and Mingyu are good, we've emotionally processed that, blah blah—now can we talk about the fact that someone hasn't looked at you for more than two seconds all week?"

"Which 'someone' are we referring to?" I ask innocently, even though I already know exactly who she means.

Sonya gives me a deadpan look. "Cheol. Your mysterious, broody almost-but-not-quite something."

I snort. "We were never—"

"Oh, save it," she says, waving me off. "I was there when he offered you his cardigan and stood outside your gate like he was auditioning for a romance movie. That's not 'just friends' energy."

I open my mouth, then shut it again. Because she's not wrong.

"I don't get it," I finally say, rounding the corner with her. "He was warm and sweet and borderline flirty for a solid two weeks. Then I start talking to someone else and he ghosts me emotionally. Like, what is that?"

"He likes you," she says easily. "And he's sulking."

"That's not how you handle your feelings."

"It is when you're a teenage boy with the emotional range of a teaspoon," she says, dead serious. "Give him time. Or don't. You could always call him out and see what happens."

I hesitate. "That feels... risky."

Sonya shrugs. "So is every good story. But for now, we let him simmer in his mysteriousness. Come on. Mr. Lee's class awaits."

We slide into our seats just as the bell rings. I try to focus on the whiteboard, the lesson, anything that isn't the brooding figure two rows behind me who won't even breathe in my direction. But I can feel it—the way the air changes when he shifts, the tension rolling off of him like a silent tide.

He's not mad. But he's definitely something. And for the first time in weeks, I realize: I want to know what it is.

The courtyard is quiet. Golden sunlight spills across the cracked pavement as the last few students filter out of the gates, voices trailing behind them until they're swallowed by the street noise beyond. I should be heading home. I know that. But I linger by the gate, backpack strap gripped tight in one hand. I had told the others I'd wait for them—Jeonghan, Jihoon, DK—but somewhere between my last class and the front gate, I changed my mind. I wanted space.

"Hey," a voice says behind me. Familiar. Soft.

I don't turn around immediately, but I already know who it is. Seungcheol. He approaches slowly, like he's not sure he has the right to. Maybe he doesn't.

"You waiting for the guys?" he asks, tentative.

I shake my head. "Decided to walk home alone today."

He stops a few steps from me. "Oh."

I don't say anything. I shift my weight, eyes fixed on the sidewalk ahead like it might open up and swallow me whole.

There's a long pause. The kind that makes you feel every second pressing down on your chest.

"I wasn't sure if you'd talk to me," he says eventually.

I glance over at him, just enough to meet his eyes. "I'm still not sure I want to."

His face tightens, just a little, like he expected it but still hoped for something else. "Fair."

I start walking. Not fast, just enough to signal that I'm not interested in standing still. He hesitates for a second, then follows beside me, matching my pace.

We walk in silence for a block. A cool breeze kicks up, rustling the trees above. I don't look at him, and he doesn't push.

Then, finally: "I owe you an apology."

I stay quiet. He continues anyway.

"I should've said something. Should've explained why I pulled back. But I didn't. I just... left you hanging."

I stop walking. He stops too. I turn toward him. "Yeah. You did."

The air shifts between us, heavier now.

"I got jealous," he admits, voice low. "That's not an excuse, but... it's the truth. I didn't know how to deal with it. Seeing you and Mingyu—he's easy to like. He makes you laugh. You looked happy, and I thought maybe that was better for you. Safer."

I blink at him, stunned—not by the words themselves, but by the nerve of him saying them now, like we could just pick up where he left me.

"You ghosted me because you were jealous?" I repeat, disbelief threading into my tone.

"I didn't mean to—"

"But you did." My voice is soft, but it doesn't waver. "You disappeared. You didn't check in. You didn't say a thing. Not even when everything felt like it was falling apart."

He looks like he wants to reach for me, to close the space between us, but he doesn't.

"I'm sorry," he says again, quieter this time. "I really am."

"I'm not saying I don't care," I say, biting the inside of my cheek. "Because I do. That's what makes this worse. You were my friend, Cheol. You mattered to me. And you just... vanished."

He opens his mouth to say something, then closes it again. The streetlamp above us flickers, casting long shadows that dance at our feet.

"I get it," he finally says. "I messed up."

I nod once, slow and deliberate. "Yeah. You did."

Another pause.

"I don't expect you to forgive me right now," he says. "I just... needed you to know. I never stopped wanting to be around you. I just got scared. And stupid."

I close my eyes for a beat, then take a breath. When I open them, I meet his gaze squarely.

"I need time, Seungcheol."

"Okay."

"I don't hate you. But I'm still hurt. And I don't want to pretend like that didn't happen just because it's easier now."

"I'm not asking you to," he says gently. "Take all the time you need."

I nod, hugging my arms around myself.

"I'll head home from here," I say, already taking a step back toward my side street. "I just want to walk the rest of the way alone."

He gives a short, understanding nod. "Okay."

"Goodnight, Seungcheol."

"Goodnight, YN."

And just like that, I turn and walk away. Not angry. Not broken. Just tired—and healing.

The morning sun barely filters through the half-drawn blinds when I settle into my seat for first period. The classroom buzzes with the usual energy—shuffling bags, chairs dragging across tile, someone in the back already cracking dumb jokes—but it all feels muted to me. Distant.

I rest my chin on my hand and let my eyes wander to the window. The teacher walks in and starts reviewing the homework, but the words blur around the edges. I manage to scribble down a few things, but I can feel it—everyone else is moving forward, laughing, chatting, doing normal high school things, and I'm stuck.

It's not that I want to mope. I hate being that person. But after last night—after Seungcheol's awkward half-confession and my own barely stitched-together response—I don't exactly feel like myself. The whole walk home played in my head like a loop I couldn't escape. The way he said it was jealousy. The way I had to shut it down.

"YN," the teacher calls, snapping me out of my daze. "Can you read question five?"

"Uh—yeah. Sorry." I fumble with my textbook, cheeks warm, and read the question aloud, trying to focus. But it's hard when I can feel the eyes on me.

Sonya leans over as soon as we're dismissed for group work, her voice hushed. "You good?"

I nod, too quickly. "Yeah. Just tired."

She doesn't push, just shoots me a look that says she doesn't believe me but will wait. That's the thing about her—she always waits. By the time lunch rolls around, I already know I'm not going. I shove my bento back into my bag and make a beeline for the music room instead. It's usually empty during this time, the piano tucked in the corner and sunlight pouring in through the tall windows. Peaceful. Quiet.

I slide into the back row and pull out my sketchbook, pretending to doodle while my thoughts swirl. Somewhere down the hall, I hear laughter—the kind that belongs to Jeonghan and Dokyeom, probably arguing about who forgot to grab snacks for the table. I imagine Jihoon rolling his eyes. I imagine Seungcheol sitting there too, pretending not to notice I'm missing.

But I hope he does. Because maybe if he notices I'm gone, he'll realize how much he made me feel like I wasn't worth staying for. And maybe, just maybe... he'll finally do something about it.

────────────────

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[simslegacy5083]

Today's (5/7/2025) Episode: Let's Make a Baby

"Betty? Are you ready to go? It’s time, and I don’t want them to think I’m skipping my appointment again. They could cancel on me and…“

Skye stopped xir nervous ramble when they walked into the living room to find Betty reclining on the couch watching TV, a hot water bottle resting on her stomach. “OH! Are you feeling bad? I can go by myself…" 

"No way Jose" she smiled, turning off the show and getting to her feet "I'm just a little sore from the extraction procedure. Nothing to worry about, and no way I’m missing this after waiting all morning for you to get ready. Now, let's go put those eggs of mine to good use and get you pregnant!"

Arm in arm, the pair strode with purpose towards the entrance. “You ready pardner?” Betty asked as they climbed the steps.

Skye nodded “So ready.” Unlike the time xe’d faced this prospect alone, xe felt no hesitation or panic as they approached the doorway. 

The pair got checked in and were directed to the small waiting area "Peppino will be out to get you shortly" the receptionist promised.

 As they turned Skye's eyes went wide with surprise when xe finally noticed the other pair of sims sitting there "Theo!?”

"Skye!" Theo greeted xem with his usual broad, salesman’s smile "What are the odds!? Considering sims only come here for one reason I don't need to ask what you're doing here, do I?" he chuckled “But, who’s your friend? I don't believe we've met." 

Betty quickly introduced herself. “So, you're Gretchen's dad huh? Are you still the head honcho over at Plumbob Studios?" At Theo’s confirming nod, she smiled. “Well then, my compliments to the “chef”. That mermaid thriller you just released was such a fin-tastic show that I watched it twice.”

As Theo laughed appreciatively at the compliment, his husband finally found his voice, asking Skye pointedly "I could have sworn Gretchen told us your wife's name was Elyse. She never mentioned that you two had split." Theo shot his husband an irritated look at that but didn't comment.

Betty was missing the subtext of the conversation, but always fearless, jumped in before Skye could answer. "Nope, Elyse is still xir wife, but she’s back home, so xe’s making do with xir baby momma as company today. It’s a bit complicated."

Sullivan started to say more but this time Theo cut him off "That's enough." After an awkward pause he continued "Given the success rate around here congratulations will almost certainly be in order for you soon, so I'll go ahead and give them now. Will this be your first?" 

Skye nodded "Congratulations yourself on becoming grandparents. I saw Valeria when I visited Gretchen just before my trip, she's adorable." Xe paused then, unsure how to proceed. Xe finally settled on "So… what brings you two to Selvadorada?"

"Like you I'm here for work, but I have some time to play" Theo replied. "We're scouting locations for a new movie, and I came out to handle the negotiations. Brought the husband with so we could turn it into a working vacation.”

“As to what brings us “here””… he gestured around the clinic "being granddads was so much fun we decided to have another one of our own! In my line of work rejuvenation potions are easy to come by, so we reset the clock, and Sullivan is having the baby this time. It's his turn after all.” 

Following Theo's declaration Skye finally noticed that Sullivan was wearing a comfortable looking outfit similar to xir own, suitable for the “Immediate Expansion” he knew to expect if the procedure was successful.

"Congratulations again then!" Skye finally said, "That's so exciting." I guess they patched things up, if they're having another baby. Good for them. 

"Thank you" Theo smiled “Our little ones will be the exact same age, if all goes well. We’ll have to get together for a playdate sometime!"

Sullivan looked mildly horrified by that, but Skye only nodded in agreement, even though the thought made xem uncomfortable as well. What am I going to do, say no!? He's my friend. Besides, I don't think Theo knows I had anything to do with Sullivan coming clean about the affair… 

Before the conversation could get any more awkward Skye was overjoyed to see Peppino approaching.

"Skye, welcome!" the ancient scientist greeted warmly “You two can come right this way." As Skye and Betty stood, he turned back towards the others "Misters Mercer, it’s a pleasure to see you both again as well. Dr. Sanchez should be right with you."

“I’m so sorry for flaking on my last appointment,” Skye began as Peppino led them into a small procedure bay. “I just…”

“Think nothing of it,” the immortal mage said, waving off xir concern. “Cold feet are understandable. Gave me an excuse to check in here and sneak in a little adventuring. I donated this tiny golden frog I found in a temple to No Sim Left Behind. Totally worth it!”

“I wanted to thank you” Betty chimed in. “That Chillio spell you taught me came in clutch when my boyfriend broke his ankle.”

“Yup, you never know what fate’s got planned, but every skill and spell you learn gives you more options.” He smiled. “Helping in those big moments feels incredible. That’s why I love this clinic. Now then Skye, let’s make you a new little sim or three!”

“The “candidates” are all ready to go” he told the pair “Several of them looked very hearty, so you should be prepared for the possibility of multiples. Betty, you can head back to the waiting room; I’ll have my assistant let you know when we’re done. It should only take about an hour.”

“Good luck” Betty leaned over and gave her nervous friends hand a gentle squeeze “Hey... how is being pregnant like being a kid again?”

Skye’s eyebrows lifted quizzically, inviting her to complete the joke. “There’s always someone else telling you what to do!” She grinned as xe laughed, the tension in xir face visibly relaxing. “Alright buddy, I’ll see you soon.” She flashed xem a silly little finger wave, walking back the way they’d come.

A swirl of warm emotions Skye chose not to name floated the sedated sim happily along as Peppino and his team moved around xem. When I wake up, I might be pregnant… with mine and Ely… Betty’s… baby xe thought drowsily as xe fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

I use the IVF feature of Woohoo Wellness for my ���Sixam Science” inseminations, but I always bring my sims to a place I’ve setup for the procedure to “happen” in-game and get pictures before sending them off to the rabbithole.

I placed this clinic down as a room on the 64x64 museum lot, and when I showed up with Skye and Betty, I found Sullivan and Theo already there! The opportunity to use their presence in the story was just too good to pass up.

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE VILLAIN DEKU X READER

You were a 5 year old cute adorable shy little girl but wasn't afraid to protect your loved ones. You were going to the playground to practice using your quirk which by the way, was Nuclear Explosion. you were about to play on the swing and just then, you saw a certain green broccoli haired boy getting bullied by a loud angry ash blonde who suspiciously, looked like a rat or a hedgehog on crack

''Face it Deku! I'm better than you and you're just a quirkless pathetic waste of space who will NEVER surpass me and don't waste your time aiming to be a hero'' snarled the blonde as the green haired kid looked like as if he was about to cry. The blonde haired boy pushed him and he fell and that's what made your blood boil in anger.

''Hey! Stop bullying him you big meanie!'' you yelled and stuck your tongue at him. ''What did you say to me you damn extra?'' shouted the blonde kid. You fired your nuclear explosions at him and his 3 goons and they left in a hurry after that. "I'll get you for this you damn extra, whatever the hell your name is!'' he shouted. ''I have a NAME and it's Y/N you big moron!'' You helped the green haired kid get up and he had some tears in his eyes and was clutching an all might figurine, someone who you were fond of as well

''Are you all right?'' you asked the green haired kid as he nodded and stuttered that he was fine. He introduced himself as Izuku Midoriya and the blonde who bullied him was Kaachan or Katsuki bakugou. ''Come on, I'll help you clean up, you have a pretty big bruise there on your knee'' and led him towards a park bench. You patched it up with a band-aid as Izuku saw your tiny soft magical hands at work. He turned red whenever you touched him and his face was becoming flushed and his heart beat faster than ever. ''Are you okay? Do you have a fever?'' you asked him and touched his forehead and he shook his head vigorously. You both became best friends after that and you stood up for him whenever Katsuki bullied him. Little did you know, even Katsuki had grown feelings towards you. Fast forward to where you guys are in middle school cuz, I'm too lazy (lol)

Izuku's POV: Here I am, waiting for Y/N chan in front of her house so we can go to school together. I really LOVE and enjoy having her around. She always helps me when Kaachan bullies me and she's really kind and caring. But... why does my chest hurt so much when she talks to other people and gives them her attention? I hate it when Y/N spends her precious time with someone else.... They don't deserve her. They don't deserve her attention. I wish I could be strong so I could protect her just like a knight in shining armor and all that. 

''Izuku!'' chirped a cheerful and yet soft female voice snapping me out of my thoughts. It was Y/N looking at me with her beautiful eyes. "Shall we get going?'' she asked me. "S-sure'' I stuttered. We were on the way to our middle school and we witnessed a fight between our idol All Might and a villain. ''Oh my gods, LOOK!'' gasped Y/N and clutched my arm looking nervous. Of course, I turned pink but she didn't see it, thank goodness. We were watching the fight and finally All Might won. I wanted to talk to him and I asked Y/N to go on without me even though I was reluctant to leave her alone. I didn't want anything bad to happen to her but..... I needed to talk to All Might alone. "All Might, do-d- do you think I could still become a hero without a quirk?'' and when All Might gave me his answer, it shattered my heart into a million pieces. He said I couldn't be a hero without a quirk and I was devastated! All my hopes and dreams crushed within less than a second! I went to school feeling like garbage since that's exactly how I felt right now. Maybe Kaachan was right..... maybe I shouldn't be a hero..... I'm just a pathetic quirkless nobody. I went to school and when our homeroom teacher announced that me, Y/N and Kaachan wanted to get into the UA, people started snickering at us. Well, at me mostly. Y/N asked them to shut up and then got into a heated argument with Katsuki and finally ended up in detention, along with him. I have to admit, Y/N gotten bolder and it's really cute and adorable. 

But I wasn't going to let MY darling Y/N chan be ALONE with Kaachan for an ENTIRE hour. Who knows what he's going to do to her? So, in order for her not to be lonely and to keep an eye on Kaachan to make sure he doesn't try anything with my puppy, I NEED to get detention too. So, I purposefully looked like as if I wasn't paying attention to the teacher and what do you know? I got detention as well.... 

The bell finally rang and soon, it was time for detention. Y/N headed out and told me she'd wait for me at the detention room. I was about to follow her when Kaachan pulled me back by my collar and hissed, ''Stay the HELL away from Y/N. She's MINE and I LOVE her, you understand, you DAMN nerd?'' and burned my wrists a little. ''Kaachan stop it, I love her too'' I said and that's how burns decorated my body yet again. ''Just stay away from her and why not take a swan dive off a roof? If you're lucky you'll wake up with a quirk in your NEXT life'' and burned  my hero analysis notebook to ash. Y/N chan comforted me during detention and swore that she'd pulverize him to death but I shook my head. Soon, it was time for us to go home but I didn't go home. No. I went somewhere and met someone who changed my life forever and made me see things in a different perspective..... That day had completely changed me and no doubt, my darling Y/N chan would certainly have tears in her eyes but I'll wipe them off and comfort her.... After all... I'm the ONLY one she needs.....

Y/N's POV: It' been 2 years since my best friend Izuku went missing. I never liked calling him 'Deku' since it meant useless and it was given to him by that hot headed hedgehog Katsuki. I swore to myself that I'd gain my pro hero licence and the second I do, I would do WHATEVER I could to find him and get him back. His mother was out of her mind with worry every single day and I would comfort her before going to the UA, the most prestigious school in Japan for upcoming heroes. Unfortunately, even Kaachan got in too. I went to Mrs. Midoriya's house and comforted her and went to the UA. Seeing the building always made me have glistening tears in my eyes since it was our dream to be in the UA together and now.... that was all just a mirage. I made my way to class 1a and while Katsuki was glad that Izuku didn't come to the UA, I told him to shut up. ''This all your fault. You always used to bully him and its because of you he's.... he's gone'' I said angrily as Katsuki replied, ''Tch... why do you even care about that quirkless nerd?'' ''He was my FRIEND!'' I shouted and by now, everyone in class 1a turned to stare at us but I didn't care 

Classes dragged on as usual and when we went to the grounds for hero training, we heard the school's security's alarms blaring loudly. ''Quick! Everyone, stay in the classrooms! The pro heroes will ensure you're safe! There are villains attacking!'' yelled Present Mic over the speakers and just as we were about to make a run for it, a purple portal opened up in front of us and out came a buff well built looking guy with a green mask, with a blue haired crusty looking person and a blonde haired girl wearing a school uniform 

The green haired guy removed his mask and I recognized his freckles along with his emerald eyes and his green hair. Slowly it was starting to hit me.... Izuku, my dear friend was a.... villain!!?? 

''Izuku?'' I whispered and looked shocked as hell and so did Katsuki. "What the HELL you DAMN nerd?'' ''Ah.... an old reunion among childhood friends. How sweet'' said Izuku smiling sickly. ''Stay back'' threatened Aizawa. '' Izuku, why did you become a.... a villain?'' I asked him with tears in my eyes. '' Ah... my darling Y/N chan. Sweetheart, who wouldn't become one after they've been let down by their idol and on top of that being bullied for being quirkless? That arrogant ego filled jerk KATSUKI bullied me till NO ENDS!! And heck! Even my own MOM gave up on me after she found out I was quirkless! But Y/N... you were the only one who gave me hope.... You made me happy, you always supported me, cheered me on.... Join me Y/N... Join me and I'll make sure to treat you like the princess that you deserve to be treated. To hell with this corrupted tainted hero society!'' he roared but I shook my head and ran away from him. ''Y/N chan, love, You can't escape me~'' and released some purple fog all around us. Then, I felt something hit my head and pretty soon, the only only thing I could sense was people yelling and shouting as my consciousness slowly drifted.....  

3rd Person POV: You woke up on a surprisingly comfortable bed but your hands were chained to the bed's headboard. You started hollering through your gag, making muffled noises. Soon a blue haired man and your friend Izuku appeared. ''Ask you girlfriend to join us or die.'' said the crusty looking man, as he removed your gag and you yelled, "I'm NEVER joining the LOV! Izuku, this ISN'T YOU! Why are you doing this!? How could you?'' you screamed at him with tears in your eyes. You couldn't use your quirk since he had placed a quirk canceling collar on you

He unchained you and rubbed your back in a somewhat soothing manner, waiting for you to calm down. ''Do... do you have any idea how WORRIED your mom was'' you asked him, as he quickly kissed you on your lips in order to shut you up. You tried fighting him, but gave in to him in the end. He broke the kiss and cuddled you and whispered hoarsely.... '' I love you Y/N my precious doll.... your MINE and ONLY MINE, no one else's..... And you will learn to love me at some point.....

BONUS SCENE: Toga: Uhh.... Dabi, you Do realize that if you're planning to flirt with Y/N Deku's gonna murder you, right?

Dabi: Yeah you stab queen, I figured that out, but I'm not going to lie, she was pretty good looking

Shigaraki: You're all idiots. 

Izuku: What. the HELL. did you say about MY Y/N?? 

Dabi: Uhhh....n-nothing. She's absolutely PERFECT for you and she's like my little sister. (Chuckles nervously)

Izuku: (smiles in a way no creepy serial psychotic serial killer would) Good to know.

P.S: This convo takes place AFTER you're nicely sleeping on DEKU's bed, END OF STORY

[swordofhearts]

i've already kind of said my thoughts on seekers of the storm on twitter (not much, only one tweet lol) but i'll go into my thoughts here since i completed my first prime meridian run yesterday

(seekers of the storm spoilers ofc, also really long post sorry)

first off, i like the new maps for the most part. they feel a little small compared to some other maps, but that's not too much of a problem since they're part of an optional route. i like the idea of an alt stage 5 but after having no extra stage 5 for so long it feels a little out of place, but that might also just be me. music is incredibly good though the music on treeborn colony goes SO hard

the new items are kind of hit or miss for me. i love the items like sale star, chronic expansion, and luminous shot but getting items like purity beads or knockback fin are so useless. they're really not as great as the sotv items, especially since there's nothing like void items in this dlc. most of the new reds are cool though, it's mostly the whites and greens that aren't as great. overall was pleasantly surprised but just kinda meh

i haven't been able to try out any of the new survivors unfortunately BUT i did unlock all of them so hopefully i'll try them out soon, seeker seems pretty interesting and definitely a nice change of pace from other survivors

i personally haven't had too many problems with gilded enemies, they just seem to have way too much armor for no reason. only just learned that they take away your gold which is kind of stupid but i never really noticed that. haven't run into any twisted enemies that i know of but i remember it was AWFUL when the dlc first came out

i said this in that one tweet i made but i feel like the path to prime meridian is so fast. i really wish it was paced out more bc if you're going to false son without looping, you have to be able to get a really good build right away because there's very little chance to get items. plus, i feel like the prime meridian map could be a little more than just running up to the boss fight. it's such a jump in difficulty that i feel like would be softer if there was one more stage in between.

i do think the false son boss is cool though. definitely isn't as interesting as mithrix, but it's still challenging. i like the part where if you get struck by lightning, it disables your abilities until you break one of the barriers. definitely makes the fight interesting, but i don't know if i would intend to do the route if i wasn't trying to get the prime meridian skins. i'm also just a looping enjoyer so i'm not a huge boss fight person

i am glad that gilded coast finally got included into the normal gameplay loop! it's something that was so out of place in the past and was incredibly rare (at least from personal experience) so being more regularly able to reach it is really nice

and then there was the whole shitshow that was the initial release. i waited until the first patch was released to see how gearbox handled it, and got it after that. thankful to say that i haven't had any problems since buying it!

overall i'd say that i was pleasantly surprised given the initial backlash, and i'm glad that i did get it, but i don't really think it lives up to survivors of the void. i definitely need to try out the new survivors over the next week or so, they seem fun to use (and praying that chef gets fixed). definitely don't want to say that i'm excited to see gearbox do anything but they seem to be handling it okay. interested in what's going to come out of the game in the future, but i'm hoping it's larger than sots.

[interlunium-opus]

"I hate him spending time with you more than I hate running so you know, priorities." [ Jay. ]

[ Jay | fluff ]

Author’s Note: Here's a fluff in response to the following request "Can you maybe do a fluff/crack for Jay where maybe he felt a little jealous when you praised someone for their skill and he immediately goes competitive mode and openly tries to show how he's far better indirectly to the guy?" Hope it's close to what you have in mind and hope you like it :3

“Do you have anything to explain to me?”

You jumped, startled, as Jay appeared beside you while you were busy shoving your textbooks into your locker, “Jay! What did I say about sneaking up on people?”

“And what did I say about not keeping secrets between us?” Jay snapped back, arms crossed, brows raised, “Is this how much our friendship is worth?”

“My goodness, what is it this time?” You sighed as he fished his phone out of his pocket, turning it to show you a candid picture of you and Sunghoon from last night.

“I mean seriously, of all people to date, you have to go for this pretentious prick?” Jay scoffed before gesticulating wildly, “Look, I know I said that you need to stop being aromantic and start planting some sort romantic interest somewhere — but Sunghoon is just ain't it. In fact ! I’d rather you date the spawn of the devil, Jungwon, instead.”

You snorted a laugh before shaking your head dismissively, “Dude, we were just running last night okay? Does that even look like a date to you?”

“Okay,” he repeated sarcastically, “but you love running alone! So why are you suddenly running with someone — and not just anyone but this prick???”

“I really don’t get why you two hate each other so much,” you raised an eyebrow at Jay, “Look we just happened to bump into each other last night and since we were heading the same way, he asked if I don’t mind him tagging along for the remainder of the way — no big deal.”

“Ughh, that’s the oldest trick in book,” Jay scrunched his face, “And you said yes?”

“I mean — we’re not exactly strangers, we have been in the same tutorial class together for more than a year now," you mumbled as you zip your bag up, "He's a good running partner too. His pace was so stable and steady that it made me stuck to mine as well — I mean, duh, he's an athlete after all."

"Hey, I can run well too," Jay grumbled defensively, "You know if you needed a running partner, you could've called me right?"

“Maybe if you were as fit as I am, she would have,” Sunghoon suddenly appeared beside Jay, peering over his shoulder to look at the picture on his phone, “That’s a good picture of me and y/n — no wonder you got jealous.”

“Speak of the devil,” Jay rolled his eyes, “Aren't you a bit too greedy over what I have? first, you took up my spot for the dance competition and now you're trying to make a move on my girl."

"Jay, that was 2 years ago — get over it. You've taken my spot afterwards for the Summer competition anyway so we're actually even," Sunghoon retorted, "Also, she's not your girlfriend anyway so your territorial behaviour is pretty misplaced."

"Guys, cut it out," you shut your locker close with extra force in an effort to shut the squabbles, "Also, why am I suddenly dragged into your petty fights."

"Right sorry about that, he's just always trying to pick a fight with me," Sunghoon shook his head dismissively before turning to you and beamed, "Just stopping by to ask if you're running again tonight 'cause I would love to join again. It’s off season for ice-skating so I thought it's the perfect time to get back to running again."

“Oh? Yeah I am going tonight as well, just a tad bit late in the evening though. I want to finish up some work at the library first,” you smiled back at Sunghoon, ignoring Jay’s burning stare, “You know you can start ahead if you want — don’t want you waiting too long in case I'll take too much time at the library.”

“I’ll go when you go, don’t worry,” he reassured as he backed away, joining Heeseung who was waiting for him, “I’ll text you alright? Looking forward to tonight!”

You nodded and waved at him before turning to Jay, “What?”

“That’s it,” Jay clasped his hands together, “I’ll run with you tonight — and the next.”

“Jay, don’t be ridiculous, you hate running,” you emphasized, “which is why I never asked you to run with me.”

“Hey — I can love running if it’s for you,” he winked, wrapping an arm over your shoulders, dragging you past the crowded hallway towards your next class, “Or let me paraphrase: I hate him spending time with you more than I hate running so you know, priorities.”

“your priorities are all skewed then," you clicked your tongue, "Well, as long as you don't hurt yourself."

_________________________________________________________________________

The next morning however Jay did not show up in Modern Political Thought seminar that you guys have every Thursday morning. Though the guy is such a sleepyhead, he never misses a class even when he pulled up an all-nighter the night before. So this sudden absence, paired with the fact that he managed to run a whole 5km without stopping last night, was sowing seeds of suspicions and guilt within you. To make things worse, he did not even respond to any of your messages for the last 5 hours.

That was why you ended up being in front of Jay's apartment instead of having your lunch that noon. "Hi!" you immediately say as the door of Jay's apartment opened. It was Jake, his flatmate, with his lids only half-opened and hair all disheveled, "y/n?"

"Sorry for waking you up Jake," you smiled apologetically, "Is Jay home? He missed a Politics seminar this morning and he didn’t respond to my text at all — just wanna make sure he’s alright.”

“mmhmm, pretty sure he’s in," he answered drowsily before yawning, "but probably, still hibernating.”

“Oh okay, do you mind if I come in?”

Jake nodded, backing up as he held the door open, “Of course, come in — it’s messy though.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassured, making your way towards the room at the end of the hallway. As you knocked on his door, Jake suddenly shouted from the kitchen, “don’t bother knocking y/n — that guy sleeps like a log. Just go in.”

“Uhh…” you bit your lip, slightly hesitating but relented when your subsequent knocks yielded no answer.

“Jay? I’m entering okay?” you say as you let yourself in, carefully navigating around the dark room, stumbling a few times against some random furnitures.

"Jake, get out okay-" you hear him grumble from underneath the covers, tossing the other way, "just let me... sleep mo..re."

As you neared his bed, you reached over to his bedside table and turned on the lamp. Suddenly, Jay rose from the covers, his hand gripping your wrist, grunting "Jake what did I just say-"

Trailing off, he looked at you with brows furrowed in a mix of annoyance and confusion, before his expressions gradually soften "y/n?"

"dude, you almost gave me a heart attack," you muttered, sighing exasperatedly.

"Sorry, I thought it was Jake trying to disturb me again," he softened his grip and rubbed your wrist as if he had just hurt it, "Did I hurt you?"

"My heart, almost but my hand is fine," you pulled your hand away, "How about you?"

"What about me?"

"You missed class this morning," you crossed your arms.

"It's just one class, no big deal. I just overslept-"

"Is that all?" you raised an eyebrow before pointing at the crumpled muscle relief patch packs and pain relief creams strewn messily across his bedside table, "Did someone overexert himself last night?"

"Fine, I didn't come to class partly because my legs are sore," he shrugged, "but hey, I ran as much as Sunghoon did! Aren't you proud of me?"

"Not if it's at the cost of your legs!" you replied exasperatedly, "Come on, where is the rational Jay that I know? he wouldn't have let his competitiveness and ego cloud his judgements like this."

"It's just normal post-workout sore, I've had it a couple of times before," he reassured, "Also, I may hate running. But I'm actually good at HIIT and strength training so I'm not all that unfit as you think I am. Or he thinks."

"All that just so you can prove him wrong?"

"No of course not, I couldn't care less about him," he huffed, "I just wanted you to know that I can pace well with you too."

"Jay, that does not make it any better-"

"Probably also to convince you that I make a better running partner than Sunghoon," he sniggered.

"Well, guess what, you can't run if your legs are hurt," you quipped.

"Oh shit, that's true," he muttered under his breath, "Well post-workout sore usually last between 3-7 days so I'll be good as new after that. Running partners?" he stretched his hand out as if asking for a handshake.

You sighed, grabbing his outstretched hand, shaking it as if you guys are signing on a pact, "Only if you promise not to overexert yourself next time."

"Promise," his smile widened, "Have you had lunch? I'll cook something up for you."

"Your legs are hurt though."

"They're sore not hurt," Jay emphasized, scooting to the edge of his bed, "Also even if they are hurt, I cook with my hands not legs so..."

You chuckled, "Well sir, if you insists."

"Of course, wouldn't let my girl go out of this house famished," he wrapped an arm over your shoulder, grinning gleefully.

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden ----Anonymity Ch. 6

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5

It becomes a sort of evening ritual between the two of you, waking Cassandra up at sunset.

You're always cautious with your movements and how much light you allow in from the hallway as you enter her lavish bedroom, but the cold fear that used to grip at your chest is no longer there.

Measured steps take you to the edge of her bed.

Cassandra usually sleeps on her side, yet today she's on her front, firm back and creamy thigh tantalizingly on display against satin crimson sheets. Her pretty face is turned halfway into her pillow, a river of rich brown waves falling behind her ear and over one shoulder.

The sight makes you stop and stare for a moment. A strange feeling —accomplishment?— swells within your chest at the thought you know just how smooth and sensitive that skin is.

Then you shake your head at yourself. Pull it together. It's one thing to accept you're in a mutually beneficial arrangement with a killer —you remain intact, she scratches an itch, both of you share the pleasure as a means of escape or passing the time— but it is entirely another to be proud of it.

She's nothing of yours. Not your lover, certainly not your girl. That would imply you stand on equal ground which you most certainly do not. You're exactly what she calls you;

A plaything.

The question is, inside your head, what do you call her?

"My lady." you say, keeping your voice low. She doesn't stir but somehow you know she's awake.

"Either wake me up nicely or don't wake me at all." the words come semi-muffled against her pillow. "If I wanted to hear 'my lady' I'd have another maid come."

Well. She does seem to enjoy when you take some creative liberties. So you lean forward and press your lips just over her knee, then move a tad higher on her thigh, then kiss the veins visible on her hand.

Cassandra's mouth slowly pulls into a pleased smile as she turns onto her side. Her fingers then curl on the neckline of your shirt and tug you forward, into a quick little kiss that ends with a nibble on your tongue.

You always get anxious when she does that —it's probably why she does it in the first place— that you'll end up with a piece missing, but so far you haven't even been cut. And if you're honest with yourself, which you're not, but if you were... the thrill is a turn on.

Cassandra licks her lips and scoots back, patting the spot she just vacated on the queen-sized mattress. You look at her, confused. Surely she isn't suggesting...

"Come, now. I don't bite." A devilish smirk curls her mouth while she tells probably the biggest lie of the year. "Keep me company until dinner."

You climb onto her bed like it's a freaking minefield. As carefully as you lower yourself onto the crimson sheets, however, the bruises across your sides still protest. You subtly suck in air through your teeth.

Cassandra's fingers slide over to you, to the exposed part of your waist from where your shirt has risen up. There's a visible patch of purple there that she traces —the coolness of her skin is so soothing— until she presses into it. The brief flare of pain makes you gasp. She giggles.

"You make such nice expressions to pain." she says, as though tempted to draw more from you.

"I've been told my pleasured ones are better." you reply quickly.

Cassandra chuckles. "Is that so?" Her yellowish eyes are gleaming with amusement as she pushes you onto your back and straddles you.

The sight is enough to steal your breath away. The sinful black of her underwear peeks through the royal red of the sheets tangled around her waist, all a wonderful antithesis with her incredibly pale skin.

You want to touch. But then you may lose your hands, so you lock your muscles down and wait for her move.

Cassandra slowly trails a slender finger up your neck, all the way to the underside of your bottom lip. "...yeah, they're good too." she breathes, although you've almost forgotten what you were talking about.

"Can't hold a candle to yours." you whisper back. At this point, you're not really capable of rational thought.

You loathe the effect she has on you. How everything she's done can just be bypassed in your head whenever she gets like this with you.

Cassandra's mouth twists into a near coy little smile. "I'll take your word for it." she says. "There hasn't been anyone else to see them, so."

Wait. Your mind stutters to a halt. Wait. What?

According to rumor, the Dimitrescus have been around for over one hundred years. From what you've seen in the castle, probably longer. And you... you're her first?

"Cat got your tongue?" she giggles again, taking your chin between two long fingers. "I think I may like surprise on you best."

You want to ask if nobody's ever interested her before, but you're afraid to overstep. Cassandra seems to know, though and has no problems answering your unasked question;

"The first few dozen years after the mutations were... very bad. The hunger and thirst were enough to drive one mad. Didn't leave much room for anything else." she explains. "And humans in general are only attractive to me chained up and bled out."

Something inside you recoils at how casually she says it. Like she's simply commenting on the weather.

"But you... you have a little spark that I like." She smirks down at you.

"What about before?" you ask.

"Hm?"

"You said after the mutations. What about before?"

Cassandra's smile gets swallowed up by the abyss so quickly you wonder if you imagined it there. Tension builds at her temples and her eyes take on an icy quality that feels like it extinguishes all warmth in the room.

"There is no before."

You've never heard her voice like that. You hope you never will again, either.

The conversation drifts to lighter subjects, then. She asks you about the world beyond the village and you share what you remember from your childhood, until it is time to escort her to dinner.

But even as she eats and talks with her family, even when she leaves with her mother and sisters and you're left alone, to clean after bloody plates with the other maids, you can't shake off that look in her eyes when you dared ask about her life pre-mutations.

The more you linger on it... there's only one word that comes to mind as an accurate description.

Haunted.

-

-

Deep in your slumber, you hear the telltale buzzing of flies.

Something winged flutters against your cheek, but you merely stir. It prods at your jaw and you grunt. Leave me alone, you want to protest, brain muddled with sleep still.

Until.

A nip that cuts a thin line on your jaw has you springing upright in bed. "Agh!" Your hand flies to the wound, eyes wide.

A familiar form materializes out of an insect swarm, right in front of you. Cassandra grabs at your hand before you can start flailing and panicking any harder than you already are. Your lungs empty of hair in the milliseconds it takes you to realize she's not here to kill you.

Probably.

"Calm down." she says it like you're overreacting.

You try to take a deep, relaxing breath, but she leans forward in the meantime, running the tip of her tongue over the fresh cut on you. So much for oxygen. She even hums against your neck. Despite the sting, your stomach flutters.

Cassandra pulls back, licking her lip. "There. All better now?"

No. Your heart is trying to jump out of your chest. Has she never heard of knocking? For the love of everything Holy out there, it's the middle of the night.

"W-what are you doing here?" you ask.

A dramatic huff escapes her. "I'm bored."

Ah, yes, that makes a lot of sense. You spare a moment to wonder what your life has come to, then accept lack of proper rest and sit back against your pillows. Cassandra takes it as an invitation to push off her hood and plant herself next to you.

"Do you... want to go for a walk outside?" you suggest, uncertain.

Her eyes light up like a Christmas tree for a moment. Then she seems to remember something that dims the glow. "Ugh. Can't. It's way too cold tonight."

That... shouldn't be and issue for her, should it? It makes you wonder.

"Well, if I stay here I'm going to fall asleep." you sheepishly admit.

Cassandra's gaze darkens as she runs her fingertips down the taut skin of your bare middle, leaning over you like a lioness cornering her prey.

"I don't mind biting you awake if you do."

You want to say that you mind, yet her lips are on top if yours, smooth, tasting of strawberry lipbalm and that's the end of that conversation.

"But I am willing to cut you a deal." A manicured nail presses a bit at the middle of your chest. "Put that smart tongue of yours to good use and I'll let you get your sleep."

So spoiled and so demanding, you think. But then, looking at her face this close up... So beautiful.

You forget all about sleep for the next half hour or so as you focus solely on Cassandra, your bedroom filling with her quiet sighs and moans.

True to her word, she does ease back when she's satisfied and you're so tired your eyes start drooping before you've even lowered your head to your pillow.

She doesn't move to leave though... and you find that you don't mind.

When you drift off to sleep this time, your last thought is that the gentle chill of her body beside yours is almost...

Comforting.

[legolasghosty]

excuse me while i send you a million questions from that ask game 😂 but.... 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, 23, 29, 37 and 38!

Hiiiii babe!!!!! No excuse needed, I love the million questions!

2 - Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Answered here, but I'll add another one cause why not. I don't think I've ever actually written a kid fic, either where one of the canon characters is a much younger child than they are in canon and it's about their childhood, or where you have canon characters becoming parents. I've thought about various versions of it a fair amount with various characters, but I've never really messed with anyone's age more than a few years in either direction. Willex would be great parents though, just saying...

4 - How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Uhhhhh.... a lot? I don't have a ton of writing time at the moment, so the ideas are just building up in my head. There's at least half a dozen, probably more, in various stages of planning and daydreaming and being written.

One that I'm in the process of setting up is actually a response to a prompt you sent me like two weeks ago. Basically, Willex goes on an ice skating date. Neither has done it before, but both assume the other will be great at it, since they both dance and Willie is almost never without his beloved skateboard. Spoiler alert, they are both awful at it. Chaos and flirting and falling and probably a lot of hot chocolate ensues.

5 - Share one of your strengths.

None of the above.

Kidding, don't kill me please! Uhhh, I guess I'm alright at domestic fluff? Like, just the blurbos hanging out and doing boring life stuff together and loving each other. I really like some good domestic fluff, and I've been informed that I am decent at making it too, which is cool!

7 - Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Stop making me say nice things about myself! Okay, answered here, but I guess you'll yell at me if I don't do another one so...

There were many things that were hard about being on tour. The long hours on the bus, for example. Or the fact that he couldn't just leave when Luke got too loud, or wail on his drums whenever he wanted, due to them being packed away between locations. But he loved touring with Julie and the boys. And he loved that Willie was able to come with them. Because it meant that he could do the things he loved, with the people he loved, all the time. They'd had to wait a couple of years after forming the band and Julie's Magical Hug of Destiny to go very far from LA since Julie had to finish high school, but they were finally doing it! And it was amazing!

Except when it wasn't. Except on days like this when Alex just didn't have the energy for anything beyond the basic necessities. And, unfortunately for him, his body and brain didn't count showering as a 'necessity’. It wasn't that he didn't like showering, or that he didn't feel sweaty and dirty, despite still definitely being partially a ghost. No, there was just something about showering, specifically in unfamiliar places, that freaked his brain out. And, because of the tour, Alex was always in an unfamiliar place.

This is from the first proper fic I ever published(Read it here). It was basically just a projection fic to get me through a rough patch, but I think it actually turned out okay and it holds a special place in my heart as the first thing I posted.

8 - Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Do I have tooooooo?

Then Willie turned around and Alex’s gaze fixed on his face. The conflicted wave of emotions from before seemed to have simplified into just two: excitement and fear. “What do you think?” they asked softly, chewing nervously on their lower lip.

Alex was across the room in an instant, pausing for a beat to wait for Willie’s nod before resting his hands on their biceps. “Willie, you look incredible! ” he stated quietly. “I’m pretty sure half of my brain isn’t even working right now with how good you look. How do you feel?”

Willie chuckled and stepped forward, leaning into Alex’s chest. “I feel good,” he whispered as Alex pulled him close. “I really like it.”

“I’m glad,” Alex murmured. “I really like it too.”

Willie pulled away suddenly, grinning as he threw his arms out and spun around in a circle, the black fabric flying out around him. “It’s so swishy!” they exclaimed, giggling.

I guess this? It's from a fic called It's New, It Looks Good On You that I published a few months back, in which Alex gets Willie their first skirt. I guess I just like how comfortable they feel around each other, even in a pretty vulnerable situation. Healthy relationships, my beloved!

23 - If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

Oh gosh, well none of my stuff is really that old. I only started actually writing early last summer. I guess... Okay, I didn't post I'll Be Here, I'll Hold You Through It till like six months ago, but I wrote it over a year ago now. It was basically written in a late night fit of anxiety and seriously needing a hug, and I feel like it isn't that good. I mostly posted it out of nostalgia and because I wanted to post something. I kinda feel like I could do better with the material now and it would be a better fic.

29 - If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Oh gosh, I wouldn't dare touch most of my favorite fics with a ten foot pole, I'd wreck them. But... there's some thoughts lurking in my ideas doc about a prequel to Girl Crush by the lovely @valiantlyweepingdreamer, giving the story of one of the couples that is already together in the main fic. I have no idea if I'll ever actually get around to writing it, but we discussed ideas for a while back in November I think.

37 - Talk about your current wips.

Oh you're gonna regret asking that one, I could ramble about my wips for hours. I'll try and keep it short here, and expand on the Willex ice skating fic I mentioned above. (No I haven't actually started writing it, shut up!)

The date is Alex's idea, cause Reggie and Luke were teasing him and Willie about how they never go on 'proper dates'(Hey, who needs to stay legal when you're invisible, and they have the best cuddle dates). So Alex googles a list of date ideas and is like, "Oh, ice skating, I bet Willie will be good at that." So they go(invisibly), snag a couple pairs of skates from the rental booth(They can put them back later, it's not like they're gonna leave germs on them or something, Alex!), and go out on the ice... only for Alex to immediately fall. Willie laughs and tries to help him up, only to lose his balance and fall too.

They kinda sort it out eventually, but they never get off the wall without hanging onto each other's hands for dear life. Afterwords, they poof back to the Molina's and make hot chocolate, because what is ice skating without hot chocolate?

38 - Talk about a review that made your day.

Okay, this was just on a doc I sent to a friend(after many conversations about said fic and me tinkering with it for literal months despite being under 1k long), but their response was so sweet!!!

"i have something to say i think this might be one of my favourite things i've read from you, if not the favourite it's so good for one because i love kissing in any way shape or form, highest form of expression of love for me, but also because it's written just so beautifully, it's lyrical almost, the images, the phrases, the language metaphor, it's great!! i love it so much"

(^Copied from our DMs)

It was just so sweet and it totally made my day and while I have no idea if that fic will ever see the light of day(literally, cause I only ever seem to be able to work on it at night...), it just makes me really happy that someone else loves it so much! I love that fic, I'm just also terrified of it so... yeah. Anyways, I won't tag them cause I don't wanna be annoying, but if you see this, you know what I'm talking about and I love you!!!!!

[yourfriendlyneighborhoodsimp21]

Request From Wattpad: Remember the confession tree episode? Go along with the plot line of that episode, but when Hanako so called, "confessed" to Y/n, he actually meant it and really loved her. But he still has to stick to the plan and destroy the tree. Later when Y/n realized Hanako's confession was only a trick, she cries and the said ghost tells her how he really feels.

Confession Tree - Mod Yashiro

Hanako-kun x Female Reader Angst and Fluff [ANIME SPOILERS, EPISODE 5]

"So for tomorrow, why don't we meet up by the big tree in the garden?"

Letting out a small sigh, you looked up at the clock as a giddy feeling went through your body. This was your last class, and you've been waiting impatiently for it to end.

Why? Well to put it short, your crush had asked you to meet up at the tree in the garden.

...

Okay, it didn't seem that interesting, but it wasn't just an ordinary tree! Everyone called it the Confession Tree, and everyone who confessed under that special tree had became a couple. You've been meaning to confess to him for a while now, but the feeling of being rejected always got to you, but now that he wants to talk to you there, he must like you back!

"Miss L/N, are you listening?" You teacher asked, which made you snap out of your thoughts. "H-Huh, oh, yup!" You stammer, but right before he could ask anything else, the bell rang. 'Perfect timing!' You beamed in your mind, grabbing your bag and quickly made your way out of the classroom.

⋆✧—— ✧ *⋆* ✧ * ⋆* ✧ * ⋆* ✧——⋆✧

Taking a deep breath, you walk towards the well-known tree. You brushed off your skirt a bit and looked ahead of you to see the ghost that had stolen your heart.

'This is it...this is the moment I've been waiting for..' You thought, a soft blush covering your cheeks as you took in his features.

"H..Hey, Hanako..!" You stammered, approaching the boy who turned around to look at you. "There you are." Hanako said with a soft smile, meeting you the rest of the way. He grabbed your hands and held them gently, causing your heart to start beating quicker and quicker.

"Listen, Y/N. I know we've been friends for a while now.." The Bathroom Ghost murmured, locking eyes with you. "And over that time, I can't help but feel something more for you. I...I love you, Y/N."

Once those words left his lips, you were absolutely frozen. 'No way...No way!' The ghost boy you've been crushing on for weeks had just confessed his love for you. A bright blush appeared on your cheeks as you smiled brightly with a warm feeling in your chest. You were so caught up in the joy you were feeling, that you didn't even notice you hadn't said anything.

"....Y/N..?" Hanako muttered, leaning his head over to your ear. "You're supposed to tell me that you don't like me back." That's what snapped you out of your daze as your loving expression turned into a confused one. "Huh..?" You mumbled.

"I don't like you like that." Hanako whispered back, looking between you and the tree. Your eyes widened slightly, that was a painful stab to the heart. You've always known that he was one to tease and joke around, but you never thought that he'd try to play with your feelings. Were the moments when he acted like he cared, the moments when he would hold onto your hand and play with your hair during class, when he gave you a kiss on the cheek the other day, just a way to toy with you?

"Y..You don't..?" You asked softly, a small frown appearing on your lips. "That's your line!" The apparition snapped. "Gah! I-I'm sorry!" You stammered.

"You're sorry?! What?! This isn't the way it works at all!" A voice boomed out, causing you to quickly pull your hands away from Hanako's and look for the owner of the voice. "When someone tells you how they feel, the proper thing to do is reciprocate!" [Lemme just say this, I love the confession tree's voice so freakin much lmao]

Suddenly the world around you both became dark, and the once normal tree began to grow. "What's it d-doing?" You mumbled as Hanako took out his knife and stood in front of you. "Just stay back." He muttered, his Hakujoudai floating around him putting his cape on.

"Hello Kodama, this is my friend, Y/N." Hanako smirked, holding onto you as he pointed his knife at the tree apparition. "Since you only appear to couples, I say it's a good thing I have her, wouldn't you?" He chuckled.

So...it really was all just a lie.

"I am guilty of nothing but healing broken hearts!" The Kodama barked. "I only desire to make everyone happy!" [Hehe, get it? Cause it's a tree and— Okay, I'll stop now-]. Swinging it's branch as Hanako made his move, defeating the tree.

⋆✧—— ✧ *⋆* ✧ * ⋆* ✧ * ⋆* ✧——⋆✧

"Wait...this was the tree?" You asked with a deadpanned expression, looking down at the once tall and large Confession Tree, but now a tiny shrub. "It's called a Kodama, a type of tree apparition." Hanako explained with a shrug. "He's the one responsible for the unnatural increase in couples you've been seeing around here."

"Ah, makes sense now.." You murmured, looking away from him. "A-anyways, I um..have to get going." You sighed. Then heartache from earlier's 'confession' was still fresh, all you wanted to do was just go home and pretend that the day never happened.

"Hmm? But whyyy?" Hanako groaned, floating over to you. "Oh! I think I know what's going on. You thought it was a real confession, didn't ya?" He teased, placing a hand on your shoulder. But his playful expression soon turned into a shocked one once he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Why do you always g-get my hopes up?" You whimpered, letting out a shaky breath as you took his hand off your shoulder. Turning to face him, your whimpers turning into small sobs. "I'm s-so done with you p-playing with m-my heart like th-that! Why the hell w-would you kiss m-me on the cheek?! O-Or hold o-onto my hand?!" You cried. "Was it a-all for fun?!"

"Y-You were tired and vulnerable to attacks! I gave you a protection charm so that apparitions couldn't harm you for a w-while!" Hanako explained, stepping away a bit. "You should've s-said that!" You exclaimed, your hands turning into fists. "I'm so d-done with you and your s-stupid tricks! I should've never f-fallen for you!" With that, you turned back around and walked over to the gate. "I gotta g-go..I'll...see you l-later.." you muttered.

Hanako stood there, stunned. Never should've fallen for him? You..you liked him? The way he likes you? Everything he said in the confession was true, he truly did love you, but he needed to take care of the Kodama. He never would've thought that you felt the same. And the fact that he made practically the only person he can really talk to cry? He could never forgive himself.

Just as you were about to walk through the gate, you felt a hand grab your wrist, stopping you. You turned around to face the ghost boy who had his hat off, and such a guilty look on his face. "I'm sorry.." he said softly, adverting his gaze. "Believe me, I never meant to make you cry.." Taking a deep breath, he let out the four words you’ve only dreamt of hearing him say.

“I love you too...”

Your eyes widened slightly, processing what he had just said. Was this another one of his pranks..? No..By the look in his eyes, you could tell this was a sincere confession. "I've loved you for a while now, actually. I just...never plucked up the courage to ever tell you.." Hanako said with a small, sad chuckle. He let go of your wrist and placed his hand softly on your cheek, wiping away the rest of your tears.

"I'm sorry for playing with your feelings, please believe me when I say that was never my intention. I hope that you can...forgive me.." He mumbled. A small blush made it's way to your cheeks as you leaned into his cold yet somehow...warm touch. "Of course.." You said, a soft smile appearing on your face. "And..I love you too..."

Hanako looked into your eyes, his face leaning closer to yours until your lips touched. It wasn't a rough or lusty kiss, it was a soft one that held so much love and adoration. You immediately kissed back, wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him closer to you.

The two of you pulled apart after a few seconds, leaning your foreheads against one another's. "So...What'dya say? You wanna be the girlfriend of the 7th Wonder of The School?" Hanako asked, a small smirk on his lips. You giggle softly and kiss his patch-less cheek. "Of course, that's what I've wanted for a while." You said, watching a small blush cover the Wonder's face.

"I gotta go. I'll see you tomorrow, Bathroom Boy." You teased, taking your arms away from him and pulled away from his embrace. Hanako rolled his eyes playfully and put his hat back on as he watched you walk away. “Bye, N/N.” He chuckled, then turned around to walk back into the school.

[high-functioning-lokipath]

SH - Sherlock & Mycroft Friendship/Brotherly Bonding - Prompt: Holmes brothers as kids, Myc being a good brother, playing the deduction game. - Words: 1,715

WARNING: MYCROFT IS A BIT NOT GOOD AT THE BEGINNING. THIS IS NOT MYCROFT HATE THO! ALSO, DEVIL CHILDREN WHO DON'T LIKE SHERLOCK MAKE AN APPEARANCE. IT DOES END WELL THOUGH.

That being said, I guess I should add a Trigger Warning for bullying.

I do hope you enjoy the story! Let us know!

"You simply are not trying hard enough, Sherlock! It's quite obvious!" Mycroft yelled. The Holmes brothers were standing in the living room in 221B. Mycroft had decided to pay his brother an in-person visit rather than just turning on the security camera he'd installed. Sherlock had decided to ask Mycroft to play the deduction game with him over a cup of tea. Sherlock was rarely so cordial with Mycroft thus Mycroft was, not that he'd admit it, concerned that something was wrong. He realized he'd miscalculated greatly (again, he'd never admit that) when, only an hour later, a shouting match had ensued.

"Really? Obvious? You're bloody insane, Mycroft! That solution is simply not possible!" Sherlock yelled, dressing gown swishing dramatically as he waved about.

"Look at the facts little brother. We've eliminated the rest. And what do we say about what remains?" Mycroft attempted to bring his voice back down to it's normal, placating, patronizing tones.

"Must be the truth," Sherlock replied, hanging his head low as he finally came to rest on the couch. Mycroft briefly, and rather guiltily, pictured Sherlock as a whipped puppy tucking its tail between its legs. He hadn't intended to hurt his brother so, but the damage was done.

'Nothing worse than past fights,' Mycroft thought. 'He'll recover in a few hours.' He decided not to reconcile at the moment as that could quite easily be taken as caring. 'Sherlock knows I care about him, I just don't want to appear too soft,' Mycroft justified mentally.

"Very good, Sherlock," He said aloud. "I understand you couldn't see it my way today. Perhaps one day you'll be able to think clearly about things." Mycroft turned to walk away. "Perhaps once your brain recovers from your last overdose. Maybe then it will return to acceptable functionality."

'Why did I tack that last jab on?' Mycroft wondered. 'Perhaps I really am becoming too calloused.' He shrugged off the thoughts for the moment as he got in his usual black limousine for the ride home.

Back in 221B, Sherlock sat crying on the sofa for some time. Soft whimpers of "Myc" fell from his lips occasionally. Eventually, he fell asleep, although not a restful one.

"William! Come outside! It's a perfect day to explore!" Sherlock's mind palace had conjured up the memory he was trying so hard to forget. He saw everything so clearly though. Mycroft, still as proper as ever, yet this Mycroft was more free, more innocent. About 14 years old and just under 5' 7", Mycroft had already adopted most of the personality that would stick with him for the rest of his life. Sherlock was seeing his memory as though it was a movie he could walk through. He didn't see it from his 7 year old point of view. Rather, he watched on the sidelines. He looked around and found himself in the backyard of their childhood home. Mycroft was examining a particularly bright patch of flowers by the corner of the house. Some of them had been crushed, others torn up.

'The old tabby cat,' Sherlock remembered fondly. 'Mrs. O'Malley did always let that cat wander too much.'

"I'm coming, Mycie!" Sherlock heard behind him. Turning about he saw himself, right at 4' tall, running out of the house to join his brother.

"Tell me, William," Mycroft said. "How do you think these flowers were destroyed?"

"The old tabby cat, Mycie! That's easy! Find me something harder!" His 7 year old self exclaimed. Mycroft smiled approvingly and patted little Sherlock's shoulder.

'I can't seem to recall why he ever stopped calling me William,' Sherlock thought. Shaking his head in his dream, he chuckled silently. He knew he would remember, but his mind was attempting to fool him.

"Timothy Lexington," Mycroft called out, tossing a frisbee to young Sherlock. He caught it absently, brows drawn together in thought.

"Blond and blue, 19, 5' 9", science class, held back a year," Sherlock replied, throwing the disk back with a smug grin.

'The original deduction game!' Sherlock thought with an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. Sitting on the grass, he settled in to watch.

Mycroft had gotten into the habit of having Sherlock deduce his classmates to the nth degree.

"Why was he held back?" Mycroft quizzed, returning the frisbee.

"Cheating," Sherlock replied, about to throw it back. "Wait," he paused. "Cheating and skipping class." With every throw, Mycroft would ask a question or name a person, and with every catch, Sherlock would answer.

"Samantha Hanshaw."

"Red and green, 17, 5' 5", fairly intelligent. Moved ahead 2 levels over the summer." Mycroft was just about to catch the returning disc when Sherlock added, "And she has a crush on you. She likes your intellect." Mycroft completely froze. The frisbee hit him squarely on the forehead, snapping him out of his trance. "Mycroft! Are you ok?" Sherlock yelled, all deductions forgotten.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Mycroft assured him. "Let's go up front." The two Holmes children ran around to the front yard and Sherlock hurried to catch up. As he was about the round the corner, he noticed a group of boys, about his younger self's age, bicycling down the road.

'Oh,' Sherlock remembered. 'This was it.'

"William! Want to come and play with us?" One boy yelled, coming to a stop in front of the house.

"Can I, Myc? Please?" The younger Holmes asked. Sherlock could see the love and care in Mycroft's eyes. But also the sadness.

"They're no good for you, Will," He whispered, kneeling down to his brother's level. The younger's face dropped, tears welling up in his eyes. Mycroft hesitated briefly, hoping with all his heart he was making the right decision and that his initial readings of those boys were false, and added, "But if you want so badly, I suppose an hour or so wouldn't hurt." Sherlock lit up and hugged his brother around the neck.

"Thanks, Mycie! I'll be good! I'll be back in 1 hour!" Sherlock then ran across their large front yard to the road to meet up with the other boys. Mycroft began to walk into the house when he heard yelling.

"Where's your bodyguard now, William? Think you can just use your brain to get out of this, William?" Mycroft's heart sank. Those scumbags were holding Sherlock down on the pavement, kicking him. "Freak! Weirdo!"

"Leave him alone!" Mycroft bellowed. Sherlock had been struggling, trying to get away from them, but there had simply been too many. The bullies quickly scattered, grabbing their bikes and running off. Mycroft pulled Sherlock onto the grass immediately.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock whimpered.

"No, no, William. You don't have to be-"

"Don't call me that!" He yelled. "Never again! If I'm to be a freak, I'll be named as such. Never call me by that name again. Call me Sherlock from now on." Sherlock's face had turned adamant, a preview of his future personality.

"But-"

"Please?" Sherlock begged, face softening once again. Mycroft silently nodded and pulled Sherlock in for a hug.

"Come on inside. Let's get you washed up and have some cake together, hm? Sounds good, Sherlock?" Mycroft asked, the name feeling strange on his tongue. He certainly did not think the name sounded freakish, nor was his brother a freak, but he would, at least for now, make his brother happy.

"Yes, please."

"And Sherlock?" Mycroft continued, pausing his steps. "I'll always love you and I'll always take care of you. I will never hurt you. Never forget that."

Sherlock woke up with a start, gasping and still sobbing a little. His face was sticky with half-dry tears.

"I will never hurt you." Those words echoed in Sherlock's mind. It seemed that these days all Mycroft had done was hurt Sherlock.

'Not that it was really his fault,' Sherlock thought. 'I'm really the cause of it all. Maybe if I could find a triple homicide I could finally make him proud.' Sherlock shook his head. He'd already solved those types of cases. He really didn't know what to do to make his brother happy. Turning over on the sofa, he looked to the abandoned mugs on the coffee table. No doubt, the contents were far past cold so Sherlock got up and took them to the sink. Hearing the door lock click, he readied himself for an intruder since no one else he knew should be coming in at this time of day.

"Sherlock?" He heard a voice call out.

'Mycroft?' Sherlock wondered. 'Why is he here?' Slowly, Sherlock walked out of the kitchen.

"What do you want?" He spat, unintentionally angry.

"I wanted to apologise. I'm sorry," Mycroft said, absolute sincerity showing on his face. Sherlock was surprised beyond words. Mycroft quickly took in his brother's appearance and realized he was responsible for it. Mycroft sighed lightly before continuing, "Lately all we've done is fight. That's not right for brothers. Even arch-nemesis brothers," He said with a smirk. Even Sherlock chuckled at that. Turning serious once again, Mycroft continued, "Please believe me when I say I'm sorry. I-" He paused for a moment, deciding he may not have another chance like this for a while. "I'll always love you, little brother, and I'll always take care of you. I will never intentionally hurt you. Never forget that. I may be harsh sometimes and say things I don't mean when I'm especially frustrated but I'll try to say 'I'm sorry' a bit more."

"I love you too, Mycie," Sherlock replied, hugging his brother tightly. Mycroft smiled fondly at the man who, at the moment, was burying his face in Mycroft's suit jacket. Mycroft hugged Sherlock back.

"I'll always care, William," His brother's name finally felt right again after all these years. "You're never a disadvantage."

"Neither are you, Myc," Sherlock replied with a smile. "But you know you're not allowed to call me that around anyone else. Not even Mummy and Daddy." Mycroft nodded. "Good. Now why don't we stop this emotional madness and finish what we started," Sherlock commanded. To the average person, it would seem Sherlock had gone back to normal. But Mycroft saw the glint in his eyes. "Chocolate cake with whipped icing?" Sherlock offered.

"Of course," Mycroft smiled, taking the plate and sitting again in the living room. "Cluedo?"

Sherlock BBC Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@ladylulu143

[emily-the-fae]

Sound of a Heartbeat

Part 3. Back to Business

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Here I am, back with a new chapter. I have absolutely no betas, so this is what I get after editing the text myself.

Pairing: Dracula x OC

Warnings: absolutley none

What Shari did not expect, was to feel cold - in fact, there was now extremely unpleasant cold at her back and something burning warm and soft at her side, the juxtaposition making her shiver and move her shoulders. As soon as she did so, sharp pain shot through the left side of her neck, causing her to flinch and groan, straightening her shoulders carefully as not to evoke another shot of pain. Why-why-why does this have to sting so much all over again? Shari could hear some sounds around her - noises like obscured quiet dialogue, the voices were still undetectable, but she already had a hint of who they might belong to. Next there was a raspy sound of someone's - or something's - quick breathing right next to her ear. Light struck her eyes through closed eyelids, causing her to turn her head, wincing. There was a sound of footsteps coming closer. Some other noise, getting louder by second, until she finally heard...

- Shari! - as soon as she opened her eyes, she saw Sypha leaning above her, anxious face watching her reaction carefully, strands of red hair falling in front of her eyes.

Shari bolted upwards, nearly bumping into the speaker and instantly regretting it as sharp pain shot through her body, she bent forward, almost folding in half, then straightened up again, taking deep breaths. Alright, easy. This is what surviving feels like. She was going to live for now. Shari looked around: she was laying on the snowy forest floor next to a campfire, her body covered with a warm cape; the wood opening was lit in dim daylight, Sypha was crouching on the ground next to her, Adrian and Trevor staring at her from across the campfire; Rodo crawled closer, putting his muzzle onto her lap and wagging his short tail happily, his nose poking her belly.

She caressed his big furry head absentmindedly. Shari did not understand how the hell she managed to make it back, especially considering her health condition. She was expecting anything, but home sweet home among the three friends on the other side of the water.

Something moved on the edge of her peripheral vision, between the trunks of the trees and Shari had to turn her shoulders fully in order to keep her neck as immobile as possible, as she tried to look in the direction of the movement. She saw a shadowy figure of the ghost stare at her, hovering immobile close to the edge of the trees. Oh, Lisa Tepes is not going to leave her alone now. She knew Shari would survive, somehow the damned woman just knew it. Now the healer could be sure the ghost will stick to her for some time and continue the scheme of "go and save the world". A very pleasant beginning of the day.

- Lord, it's so good that you're back. We seriously thought that we might lose you, - Sypha threw her arms around Shari's neck, for the time being taking the healer's thoughts off her new acquaintance. - I tried all I could, you know, magic and other stuff... Adrian almost suggested turning you, - Shari snorted. Like hell he would have.

- How long was I...?

- Three days, - Sypha's face was probably as pale as her own. The poor girl must have done all she was capable of to keep Shari alive.

- To be honest, I am quite surprised that my father didn't finish what he started, but I am anyway relieved, that you are well, - Adrian walked up to her and petted her shoulder. - I'm so sorry we weren't there to help you straight away.

- It's fine, Adrian, we couldn't have predicted that he would pay us a visit. It's not anybody's fault, - no it is. My own and yours too, it was a dumb idea to leave the most battle-unprepared person alone. Shari shut the voice in her head and smiled weakly.

Trevor just nodded from across the fire, listening to their exchange; he watched the three of them, his gaze from time to time drifting back to Shari, or rather to the reddened patch on her neck. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, as if hesitant to speak, then finally spilled it out:

- How did he attack you? How did he find us? Did he speak? – the hunter started throwing questions at her and Shari got a strong feeling of being interrogated.

- I-I don't know, - Shari almost lied, throwing a cautious glance at Lisa. - He just, sort of, appeared and attacked me that's mostly it.

- He probably watched us. She was alone, so he decided to weaken us by removing the one left vulnerable, - Adrian finished, lowering himself on the ground next to the healer. Shari didn't want to respond, dropping herself to her improvised bed in exhaustion.

- You must be more or less right. That night is a bit foggy in my memory, really, - she huffed.

- He has a nasty habit of putting his victims under hypnosis, so your condition is quite - I almost said normal - quite to be expected I dare say, - Adrian mumbled matter-of-factedly, his palm coming up to caress her head and brush away a few stray strands of hair from her face. Shari felt her stomach turn in fear at the word "victims", she breathed out heavily. Silence followed.

- Guys, seriously, I feel drained... - Shari stretched as well as she could; Sypha snorted at her involuntary pun. - Can I please just rest for a while?

- Of course. Take your time and gain some strength. You'll need it soon, - Adrian spoke before anyone could respond. He stretched out his hand to take her palm in his for a moment, capturing her attention. - You deserve some rest. Thank you... For not dying on us. Really, - his tone began to be uncharacteristically serious, but as he ended his words in a chuckle, Shari could only breath out and smile warmly. Sypha just nodded and hurried to cover her once more with the large warm cape - the healer wasn't sure if it was Adrian's of Trevor's.

Shari lay back in peace for once, feeling Rodo's large warm form next to herself and letting the sounds of the forest wash over her. Maybe she could at least get some normal sleep.

***

When she woke up the next time, it was already deep in the night. The fire was burning low, Sypha and Trevor sleeping soundly on the ground around it, curled into two freezing balls, an empty bottle next to Trevor's hand - as per usual - and Adrian nowhere to be seen. Rodo purred in discontent, shaking his sleepy red eyed head, when Shari tried to sit up.

There was a shadow at the edge of the trees once again watching the small campsite intently; Shari could see it clearly its outline hiding behind the tree trunks. Lisa. The woman caught her gaze and beckoned her to come closer. Shari shook her head at first, but the woman only continued gesturing more aggressively; she hesitated for a while, contemplating whether she should just turn on her side and go back to sleep, then stood up at last almost against her own will, walking up to the ghost cautiously, ready for any unpleasant surprise. She felt like she was going to regret even this small decision.

Lisa, seeing her move, turned away and walked further into the tree shadows, leading the human away from the campfire; Shari could barely follow her transparent form, walking through the bushes careful not to make too much noise that could awaken her unaware companions. Rodo ran behind his human, smelling the air around him for any traces of life, his huge claws making him clumsy as he trotted through the bushes. At first Shari could barely see her way, cursing under her breath as she went until all of a sudden she found herself in an opening once more, a small free patch of ground formed around an old fallen tree, it's darkened trunk laying on the ground and clearing some space around it; Shari saw the ghost settle on top of the trunk as if sitting down on a bench, gesturing for the human to do the same. Shari walked closer and lowered herself next to the woman. It was silent for a few moments.

- Did you really have to do that? - Shari spoke up.

- Do what? - Lisa responded.

- Appear to me. Rush my decisions.

- I didn't. In fact, I tried to tell you to think it over, if you remember?

- Oh yes, you didn't intimidate me with the prospects of returning to Earth straight for a painful fight, - sarcasm it is.

- I needed you to be out here.

Silence once more.

- Why don't they see you? Adrian and others - you were there in the morning, but they didn't notice. Are you just a hallucination? In my head? I’m going insane, am I? - Shari asked. The ghost sighed in response, lowering her head.

- No, no. I believe, you... Crossed some border because of almost dying. You aren't supposed to be seeing me now, it never happened to me before... Maybe you are able to see the other dead too. Maybe it's just me because I tried to connect to you, - Lisa answered, unconfident, studying the girl's face. - I was never exactly an expert in the paranormal field.

- You raised a vampire son.

- That's different!

Pause.

- I'm still not going to go looking for Dracula, - Shari stated.

- You can go looking for his castle instead then, - Lisa was seemingly unworried about her decision.

- Looking for his castle?! Do you even hear yourself? How is that supposed to be "instead"? How.. Wait, why?

- Well, as you said, you want to hold onto your life - he has the answer to your sickness, your salvation - I know, I remember, I've been to his library - if you manage to find the castle, you will as well find the cure, - Lisa smiled knowingly at Shari's visible confusion. The healer wrinkled her nose, thinking. Now there was something to it – could be possible; a chance for longer survival, if the stories didn’t lie; besides Dracula is quite busy and Lisa had told her she watched over him. But still...

- Oh no, I'm not buying this. You're just telling this to me, because you want me to encounter him. He very obviously will be there and will certainly be not happy about a human intruder. I won't go, nope, - Shari replied.

- Don't you think it's the better option of not encountering him? - there was a smirk on the ghost's face now.

- Oh, yes, why would that be?

- He's following you four around, he said it himself, so he will definitely notice you are still alive and quite soon. But I do know he is not as often in his castle nowadays - so if you leave the others, in fact, you will have better chances of...

- Alright, alright, Lady Logic, I get it. What's in it for you then? Making me search the castle? Sounds all too good for me and nothing for you, as you place it. What do you have in mind?- Shari stared at the ghost suspiciously, waiting for the answer.

- His castle and all its movement is controlled only from the inside, I know it for sure. And maybe, just maybe, together we could find a way to reverse this war with minimum blood. If we find a way to stick the castle to one place, he will have to be more careful, because his safe place will grow more vulnerable. As for Adrian and your team out there – they wouldn’t be able to ambush him. Drawn in that condition they may have more time and necessity to… reconsider some of their tactics. Who says diplomacy should work without a little destructive help? You and I – together we can create the needed mess, - Lisa responded. This sounded almost like a rehearsed speech. - Magic and knowledge: if you help it may actually work out.

- And that's all? - Shari raised an eyebrow.

- Yes.

- Too simple.

- Only on speech, - Lisa tilted her head towards Shari. - Do we have a deal?

- I don't trust you, - Shari cut back. - You're nice and all, but I don't trust you, - she stood up from the tree trunk.

- You don't have to. But we need each other, you have to admit it, - the ghost responded with an amused smile. Shari really wanted to shut her ears and run away. This was no good. There was no way the ghost wasn't lying about Dracula deserting his castle; Adrian said he wouldn't... Though Adrian didn't expect him to be watching them either.

- Okay. Say I do trust you – for now. What do I do? How do I get away and to his castle without Adrian?

- Leave tomorrow. Tell them you need to go and settle some personal matter – or rest somewhere peaceful, that you know of a small village to rest in for a while. That you're sick and solving it - it's not far from the truth. You'll catch up with them in some time… possibly, - Lisa told it all as if she had planned the whole thing a long time ago, which unnerved Shari quite a lot.

- Will I though? - mistrust once again.

- Depends on you, - the ghost dissolved into thin air. - Remember, we both need each other.

[the-dead-skwad]

He left X Reader X Damien Haas

So after a long time of staring at an empty page I have finally wrote something again. This request: Hey! I don’t know if you’re taking requests, but if your are then could I request an imagine where reader and Damien Haas break up and they’re sad and stuff, so the rest of the smosh fam try to get them back together, please? @lula132 

I’m so sorry it too so long.. but here is one of two ideas I had. I can post the other when I finish it. I finally got over my writer block. 

You were lying face first on the sofa yet again. In the background you could hear some anime show playing but you had no energy to move and actually watch it. Swimming in your own thoughts the sound of your front door opening made you jump.

"Jesus Christ!" Courtney's voice boomed across your open plan living room.

You lifted you head revealing two wet patches from your tears. "Hey." You sniffled.

"Awhh buddy." She pushed your gross tissues off the sofa with a pen and sat down next to you. "How you feeling?" She wrapped an arm around you and pulled you in for a cuddle.

"Erm.. I'm gonna be honest, not so great." You sniffled again "I feel like my heart got shit on."

"I don't understand man.. None of us do." She squeezed you tighter.

"He just left.. No reason, no sorry, just gone."

"He's in Japan at the moment."

"I know, I saw his instagram." You snuggled closer into her "Maybe he met someone over there the last time he went. That's literally the only thing I could think of."

"I never thought he would ever do that to you man... Did he leave any of his things here?"

"A few hoodies, some games, not much." You pulled on the jumper you were wearing "I swear this one stills smells like him."

"No offence dude, but you straight up smell like beer and Cheetos."

You half smiled at her "You're an asshole."

"But Ian said you were coming back in tomorrow."

"Yeah, I am. I can't stay away forever."

"Okay then, " She pulled away from the cuddle "Lets sort your stinky ass out. Get a shower, clean up this place, get you outside, fresh and ready for tomorrow."

"Christ." You sighed as you stood up "I guess I have to."

--

The beeping of Courtney's car snapped you out of you day dream, almost spilling your coffee. You picked up your work bag, placed your mug in the sink and headed out. She sat in the car smiling and waving like a mad man as you locked the door.

She wound the window down and music blasted out. She sung at the top of her voice, while you prayed none of your neighbors were watching you.

"Hey!"

"Oh jesus!" The creepy old lady that lived next door popped up from behind her fence scaring the life out of you. "Good morning Mrs Kersh."

"Nice to see you out of your pajamas, not crying."

"Thanks!... You nosey old bitch." The last part was under your breath.

You jumped in the car, "Who the hell is that?" Courtney tried looking around you at the old lady.

"One of the noseyest old bags I've ever met." You slapped your knees "Anyway, lets do this.. I'm ready to go back to my shared office, that I share with the man you broke my heart."

"No!" Courtney shouted at you "You got 3 days before he's back from Japan. None of this sad shit. We are all coming together to cheer you up."

"Fine." You smiled at her.

--

The first thing you saw as you pulled into the parking lot was Shayne’s smiling face. You jumped out the car and he ran to you squeezing you as tight as he could.  "Oh" he spoke into your jumper "I wanted to come see you.. but I didn't want to upset you."

"It's okay man. I understand, he's your best friend." You squeezed him a little tighter till you both let go.  

Walking into the office everyone was smiling at you but in such a weird way. You walked to the ballpit and sat at your desk. You were faced with a photo of you and him just smiling your dumb faces off. "Ugh jesus." You put your head on your desk.

"Hey." Noah's sweet little voice came from behind you "I made you a coffee."

"Oh thanks.. That’s super sweet."

"How are you?"

You smiled "I'm fine man.. yanno its a break up. Yeah he broke my heart but I'm not dying. Everyone is just looking at me super weird."

"Yeahhh, they just don't want to upset you. It's a difficult situation."

"I'm just going to get my head down today, got so many emails and scripts to look at at."

"Good, if you need anything." He gently patted you on the back.

"Thanks Noah." You smiled as he walked over to his desk. You put your head phones in and focused on your computer.

Only a few minutes had passed and you were trying to ignore the commotion going off behind you. Usually it was just Shayne doing something stupid. But then again you could do with cheering up a bit. You took your head phones out and spun in your office chair. Looking across the office everyone was stood in a group. That's when your heart fell out of your ass. He was stood there smiling as though nothing had happened. Your mouth was dry and you felt cemented to your chair. 'I gotta get out of here.' You thought to yourself. As you stood you felt as though the whole room had shrunk and everyone was looking at you. It wasn't true, you grabbed your mug and ran to the kitchen as fast as your could.

While the coffee machine did it's thing you stood with your hands on the counter, just staring at nothing. Your heart was pounding out your chest when someone in the door way made you jump "I'm making coffee!" You almost screamed it.

"Okay dude.." Luckily it was Courtney.

"Sorry, I'm just freaking out..." You looked at her "Like bad."

She ran over to you and hugged you  "Awhh, I didn't know he was going to be back today. I'm sorry."

"Its okay." You hugged her back. "Do you reckon I could sneak out the window?"

"This is your work as much as it is his." She put both her hands on your arms holding you in place "Now, get out there, flip that hair and show you are a strong woman!"

"Sir yes sir.." You mocked her. She kicked you as you left the room. You ran back into the kitchen.

"What! Do I need to walk out there with you?"

"No, I forgot my coffee." Taking the mug you left again. You took a deep breath and held your head high. Making no eye contact with anyone you sat at your desk.

"Hey."

"Jesus.. I swear like 5 people have made me jump today." You turned to the person on the desk next to you and your smile dropped.

"You look nice." Damien tried to smile at you.

You took a breath to gather some courage "What are you doing?"

"Y/N I'm sorry but.."

You cut him off "You don't get to say anything, look I don't want to argue or even talk about this while we're surrounded by all our friends and colleges. But I know we have to talk so.." You looked around "I know Smosh games is empty because Mari said she won't be back for a few days."

"Okay, I'll go put my lunch in the fridge and I'll meet you there."

--

You had been waiting for around 10 minutes and you were getting more and more wound up. Going over all the things you wanted to say to him. The door opened and the look on hias face just stopped all that anger instantly.

You groaned "This is so much harder than I thought it was going to be."

"What?" He sat in his gaming chair.

You sat in yours that was of course right next to his. "Well, we had this whole life together. A house, cats, we wear each others clothes, we work basically on each others knee everyday, we even have the same friends." You sighed "How can we possibly live normally with out being together? And I know we did it before but..."

"Y/N" He cut you off this time "Stop talking... Just for a second and breathe." He took both of your hands in his, you wanted to pull away but your heart was aching for him "I know I messed up really bad but I still love you."

"How can you say that?" A tear fell down your left cheek "You left me alone in our house, went to another country with out even a good bye. No explanation, nothing." You sniffled and looked at him dead in the eye "You broke my heart Damien."

"I am so so sorry." His voice was low "I panicked and I wish I could change what I did. I know how much I hurt you and it hurts me knowing I was the person to make you feel like this. But I pray deep down that one day you can forgive me for leaving you."

"What do you mean you panicked? Damien... We've been together for 4 years. Nothing new was going off."

"The day before I left I bought this." He reached into the front pocket pf his bag and passed you a small box.

"What the flying fuck is this?" You opened it and was faced with a beautiful engagement ring. "Are you serious?"

"Look.." He sounded panicked "I don't want to to answer but I bought this then I freaked out and I just fucked up big time. I don't even know if we're actually together right now but just hold onto it and I stay in our spare room for now."

"Okay.." You put the ring on your pocket "I suppose I'll think about it." You walked over to the door and pulled the handle down but the door was locked "What the hell?" You pulled on the door a bit to no avail.

"Sorry guys!" Courtney's voice came from the other side of the door "You're not coming out till you sort this out."

"You were made for each other so fix it!" Shayne screamed at you.

You turned and smiled and Damien "Fuck."

[lovemalecforever]

Chapter 9

A Little bit of Happiness and Little bit of Chaos

The warmth of the afternoon sun fell on Magnus' face breaking his beauty sleep. He stirred then woke up and sat on his bed. He looked around and saw the time on his ancient yet still working alarm clock, it was around 12 in the afternoon. 'Shit! How did I... ' then he remembered his morning patch up session with Alec and falling asleep in his arms. He sighed then looked down at his wedding ring, played with it a little, going deep in thoughts for some time. He was about to get out of the bed when his eyes fell upon a note kept under the alarm clock. He picked it up and quickly opened it, it was Alec's handwriting.

Morning sleepyhead, I hope you didn't wake up with the stupid nightmare again, if you did, remember I'm just a phone call away, you can portal me home whenever you want. I made breakfast for you before leaving, I know you didn't have dinner last night. Eat and inform me that you did. I'll be waiting for your call. I love you, Magnus Lightwood Bane.

Husband♡

Magnus looked at the note, his fingers gently stroking over the words written on them, feeling the texture of the paper. A tiny smile formed on his lips. He kept the note in the drawer of the side table and went to the bathroom to get freshen up.

After taking a quick shower and getting freshen up, he went to the kitchen. When he reached there, he saw a plate which had scrambled eggs, two sliced bacon, butter toast, a bowl of few diced fruits and a glass of orange juice placed near it. He sighed softly, his heart melted over this small gesture. Just as he was about to eat it, his phone buzzed loudly. He saw the caller ID, it was Alec, he picked it up quickly.

"Hey Alexander, I saw what you did. I appreciate it, but it wasn't needed!"

Alec sighed in relief, which Magnus clearly heard, confused as to why he was stressed.

"I swear Magnus Lightwood Bane, you scared the hell out of me! I thought you had the nightmare again and wasn't telling me, I was about to head back home! Why didn't you call me when I asked you to!?"

Magnus was confused at first but then he remembered the note. He sighed.

"Oh! I.. just woke up and saw the note and the breakfast. I.. didn't eat it yet!" He confessed, then continued. "But.. what got you so scared? I'm completely fine. Relax!"

"Are you kidding me! Magnus, check your damn phone!"

Magnus checked his phone, he had 5 missed calls from Alec and some texts asking if he had breakfast or if he was fine, or if he needed him home. He gulped nervously.

"I'm sorry for scaring you, Alexander. I just woke up and I'm fine, don't worry."

"Don't worry? Mags, it's afternoon. You slept for that long when you hate oversleeping! Are you okay? did you-"

"Hey, calm down, Alexander! I'm fine. On the contrary, I slept peacefully as I didn't do much sleeping last nig-" He regretted immediately what he just said, mentally cursing himself.

Alec wasn't shocked or surprised by this as he himself didn't. He was worried about him the whole time. He knew that this needed to be fixed and he knew exactly how.

"Meet me in my office immediately!" He said in his all authoritative tone.

"A.. Alexander!?" Magnus was now nervous and guilty that he has him all worried and upset while he's working.

"In my office! Now! And I'm not saying it again!" With that, he hung up the call.

Magnus gulped, he quickly stored all the breakfast in the fridge with the help of his magic, then went to the bedroom.

___________________________________

When Alec hung up the call, he quickly cleared his table which was covered with books related to Kasper Windermere he was researching about, and shoved them into the lower compartment of his desk, aware that Magnus can come at any moment.

Within a minute a portal opened up in the center of his office and Magnus stepped out of it, looking all scared and guilty. Alec stood from his chair, walked towards his husband, and looked at him sternly.

"Alexander! Hey, I didn't mean to scare you, look I'm completely fine, you don't have to be worr-" he was cut by Alec's soft lips around his own. He was surprised at first, but then kissed him back making it more passionate.

Alec broke the kiss after some time. "Shut up!"

"You already made me!"

Alec glared at him. Magnus gulped, then looked away.

"W..Why did you call? Something important?"

"Yes, it is. I want you to go on a lunch date with me!" He said in a flat tone.

Magnus looked at him jaw-dropped, unable to say anything.

Alec suppressed his smile, wanting to play it for a longer time but then decided against it.

"Magnus, I'm free for an hour so I thought we could have lunch together, I know a good restaurant which Izzy told me about and I'm aware you're all stressed up, and to be honest so am I. With what happened yesterday... I think we both need to spend some time together." He looked at him with a soft smile.

Magnus sighed. "You had me scared Alexander!"

"Payback for scaring me like that!" Alec smirked.

Magnus shook his head at him. "I have no words... "

Alec then offered his hands to him. "I'm free for an hour only, so shall we?"

Magnus took his hands and kissed him softly. "Okay!"

________________________________

They reached the restaurant within a few minutes. The restaurant was constructed beautifully; it had themed interiors and was cold and cozy.

"It's beautiful!" Magnus confessed.

"Wait till you eat the food!" Alec said with an excited tone.

Magnus looked at him with a soft smile. They then walked towards the corner end of the restaurant away from all the crowd, took their seat, and ordered their lunch. Within ten minutes their food arrived.

"The food is really good!" Magnus said with a mouthful of his food.

"I knew you'd like it!"

Magnus looked at him then moved his hand towards his and intertwined their fingers, Alec rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand gently. They sat in comfortable silence eating their food when Magnus decided to speak up.

"Alexander, I'm really sorry about yesterday, I shouldn't have-"

"Magnus! It's not about what happened, it's about you, seeing you like that.. it reminded me of when you lost your magic and it concerns me. If there's something bothering you, please talk to me. I'm not forcing you to, but please, know that I'm here for you, I'm here to listen, whenever you want."

Magnus looked at him teary-eyed. 'I don't think I can Alexander. With what I was going to do, breaking our marriage, the thought coming to my mind, again and again, I don't think I can ever tell you about it and it's better that I keep it to myself.' he thought to himself, then nodded at him.

"I know Alexander, but I'm fine. Please, don't worry about me. I.. I know those nightmares are getting the best of me, but I'm trying not to get affected by them and-"

"And failing! Right?"

Magnus sighed and looked away.

"Hey, look at me!" Alec said softly.

Magnus looked at him, tears pooling on the edge of his eyes. Alec squeezed his hand gently.

"Magnus, I know what happened had scared you, it left bitter memories for me as well but know that I'm not planning on leaving you anytime soon. I'm here with you and I'm going to be. I love you, Magnus."

"I love you too, Alexander. And thank you, I know you're saying it to comfort me and well, it worked a little but I know I need to be prepared, my husband is a Shadowhunter and I'm immortal. It's never going to.." he trailed off.

Alec squeezed his hands gently and rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand. 'That's where you're wrong, Mags. I can see the pain in your eyes right now, just a few more days then we can be together forever.' he thought to himself.

"Then let's make the most of it instead of fighting or.." he cleared his throat. Magnus understood what he meant.

"I agree, and I'm trying. It's just.."

"You don't need to stress on it, Magnus. Just remember that I'm there for you."

Magnus sighed, then nodded. "Alexander?"

"Yeah!"

"I.. I don't feel like working today, can.. can't you take your day off and we can spend the day together!" Magnus looked at him pleadingly.

Alec was about to respond when his phone buzzed. He quickly checked it.

• Found the spell. But it's complicated. Are you sure about it, Alec? -Cat •

• With Magnus. Will be at your apartment at 4. -Alec •

"Alexander!? What is it?"

Alec sighed. He was happy about the fact that they finally found the complete spell but he couldn't show it when Magnus was sitting right in front of him.

"Work!" He said trying to sound disappointed.

"Oh!" Magnus said flatly. The look of disappointment clearly visible in his eyes.

"Mags, you know I would love to spend the day with you but this can't be avoided, it's important."

"I understand, go do your work." He said in a sad tone.

"Hey, I'm sorry but I'll try to come home early."

Magnus just nodded at him.

"Let's finish our lunch then, I still have some free time left." He said trying to lighten the mood.

They finished their food, paid the bill, and left the restaurant. They walked their way towards the Institute. When they finally reached there, Magnus created a portal to head back home.

"Hey, Mags!"

"Yeah!"

Alec walked towards him and kissed him passionately. "No drinking behind my back, if I see you like that ever again, I swear it won't be good for you!"

Magnus gulped. "Noted! Now go do work, I'll wait for you at home."

With that Magnus left for home and Alec went to the institute, waiting for the time to pass sooner so he can reach Catarina's apartment and know the findings.

_________________________________

Catarina was standing next to her coffee table, the book kept open on the table waiting for Alec to come when the doorbell ranged. She waved her hands and opened the door with her magic.

Alec walked in and went towards the coffee table where Catarina was standing.

"Hey Cat!" He gave her a side hug.

"Hey! What's with you? You don't look good."

"It's not me, it's Magnus! He's.. " he trailed off, then looked at her.

She looked at him wide-eyed. "Magnus? Now, what is it?"

Alec sighed then told her about everything that happened since last night till their lunch date of the present day.

"He's not doing well and I can clearly see it, I just want the days to pass by sooner so I can tell him everything and see happiness in those eyes again."

"I can't believe this! He's not even telling me anything. Once everything will be out in the open, I'm gonna kick Bane's ass badly and you're not stopping me from doing it!" She said in a warning tone.

Alec laughed slightly at her remark. "I won't, don't worry, instead I'll enjoy it, he deserves that much! So, what did you find?"

Catarina looked at him then sighed and shook her head. "Look for yourself."

She waved her hands towards the open book kept on the table. Alec turned the book towards him then started reading.

The spell that turned Kasper into a literal angel is known as an immortality spell; the rarest spell ever known but it's not easy to find that spell as it's provided by an angel her/himself.

"You're kidding me! Right!? There has to be a way to find that spell!" Alec said in an irritated voice.

Catarina looked at him with disbelief. "You're really stubborn Alec Lightwood Bane! Well, no and yes both. As I've already told you, it's really complicated."

She turned a few pages of the book searching for something when she finally found it, she turned the book towards Alec. "Read for yourself!"

Alec gave her a confusing look then started reading.

*The means to get immortality spell-

To obtain the immortality spell the person needs to go under a procedure.

"A procedure?" Alec asked, confused.

"Alec! First, read it completely, then ask your questions!" She said with an annoyed voice.

"Okay! Okay! Sorry."

First, they need to find someone who has a direct connection to an angel meaning a person who has pure angel blood running in their veins. Once they find the person they have to tell them about their wish to become an angel/immortal, and request them to communicate with the angel and let the angel know his/her intentions for becoming immortal. Once the angel is convinced that the person is pure and can handle being an immortal, the angel will provide the immortality spell to the person who has their blood running in their veins.

Once this procedure is completed go to the extract where the next procedure is mentioned.

"Where is the further procedure?" Alec said, turning the pages.

"Woah! Hey, slow down! How are you going to find a person who has pu-"

"Clary!" He said in a rushed tone.

"What!? Clarissa Fairchild? She has-"

"Yes, of Angel Ithuriel's!"

[A/N: for this story pretend that angel Ithuriel never died, instead, he just got hurt badly but healed afterward.]

Catarina sighed and looked at him with utter disbelief.

"Cat! Please help me with this!" Alec waved his hand towards the book.

She waved her fingers and opened the page where the next procedure was written. "Go ahead!"

Alec looked at the book where the next procedure was written.

Once the immortality spell is provided by the angel, the angel will provide another spell which will be needed to be performed on his blood, meaning the blood of the person who has his blood in their veins. The person having the angel blood has to pour their blood in a pure copper glass, then the spell provided by the angel has to be performed on it and it should be kept under the moonlight until it turns golden white. The person who wishes to turn immortal has to drink this blood at an early stage of dawn and has to be in-between nature. The immortality spell has to be performed simultaneously when the person is drinking the blood, and an immortality rune is engraved right above the heart of the person. The warlock performing the spell has to be trustworthy to the person, powerful, and of the opposite gender to the person becoming immortal. Once the person becomes immortal there are few precautions which have to be taken. >After performing the spell, the person has to stay away from everyone; at least for a day and be around nature until their powers are completely awakened. > The person can't get physical/intimate with anyone till the full moon; especially with a downworlder.

Alec sighed with relief, a wide smile on his face but also of slight disappointment. "So, I can't get intimate with Magnus! Really!"

Cat shot a look at him. "Is that all you're concerned about? Really Alec!? Can you do everything that's mentioned here? Plus-"

"Cat! I already told you I want this, not just for Magnus but for myself as well; and I don't find any obstacle with the procedure. It's Clary who can help me with this, I know I have to drink her blood, but that's fine, I'll do it. And the warlock is standing right in front of me! Please Cat!" He looked at her pleadingly.

Cat sighed. She was so awestruck by the man's determination standing in front of her.

"Fine! But we need to leave for New York then if you wish to do it."

Alec nodded. "I'll inform Izzy then and.. " he trailed off, something dawned over him, changing his expressions completely.

"Now what happened?"

Alec looked at her. "Magnus! We will both be gone for a few days. If something.. " he closed his eyes. The thought of leaving Magnus in the condition he is right now scaring him to his core.

Catarina understood what he meant. "Alec! He'll be fine, don't worry. When we have everything we need for the spell I don't think it's gonna be more than two days. He's Magnus, he'll be fine."

Alec looked at her with slight relief and nodded. "Then let's head to New York tomorrow morning itself!"

[deanwinchestermydaddy]

TO SEE YOU AGAIN (DEAN WINCHESTER STORY) PART. 15

Rodney's POV:

Me and Sam arrived at the hospital just in time for Scott, he was stable and I was happy about that, me and Sam were taken to other rooms to get stitches and bandages for our cuts. We were walking back to the waiting room when I saw my Little Bubba on the arms of Dean crying and holding onto him like if her life depended on it, I was able to see it clearly; they were meant for each other like if their souls were made to be together because I know for a fact that she couldn't have taken this well if it was just me and her, I wouldn't be able to hold my baby girl and tell her that everything was going to be okay when it wasn't, I couldn't do it again.

Once she saw me her lip tremble and it reminds me of that night that changed our lives forever, she started to walk towards me but didn't stop holding Dean's hand and once she reaches to me she just hugged me exactly like the day her mom got murder by a demon when she was 5 years old.

Later all of us were at the waiting room with stitches and patched up, Dean was holding her and she didn't want to let go of him at any cost, "Family of Scott Paxton" the doctor said as he walks towards us cause we were the only ones at that time, "is- is -is he?" Y/n try to say, "he's stable, he will make it but he has to be here for a couple of days before he can be released" he informed us, "can we see him?" I asked and the doctor nodded, "yes, but only two can be on the room each time" he said and he went away.

We were at the front of his door and I looked back at Y/n and offer her my arm, "C' mon Little Bubba" I said but she shook her head and hold onto Dean, "I'll be right here sweetheart" he said kissing her head, "I-I- I can't go without you Dean" she said and I smiled, "don't worry son, I'll go alone, you go in with her after" I said and walked in.

"Rodney," he said with a raspy voice and I went and hug that bastard, "I'm glad you are good kid," I said as I move and smile at him, "how is she?" he asked concern clearly visible, "not doing so good but he's there making it better," I said and he smiled, "I'm glad that he's there for her, they are meant for each other," he said and move a little, "I need to talk to her about something but I am not sure that Dean would like to listen about it," he said as he looked down and I moved closer to him and placed my hand on his shoulder, " I am sure that if it concerns her he would be okay to listen about it," I said and he nodded and stand up to walk out.

I walked up to them and she looked at me and I nodded, "he's alright Little Bubba, he said he wants to talk to you" I said and she got up with Dean, "I will stay outside if you want sweetheart" Dean said but she just got near him and hugged him, "please go with me" she said almost like a whisper and he smiled and kissed her forehead and kept his arm around her cause I was sure if he didn't she was gonna collapse, "let's go" he said and both walk and I stayed with Sam on the room and we chatted a bit.

Y/n POV:

I couldn't be alone, I didn't want to be alone, I was happy that I have Dean by my side if not I think I would have just broken down more.

"Hi, Scotty can we come in?" I said really low as me and Dean walk inside of the room, "yeah I was waiting for both" he said and I swallow hard as I saw how beaten he looks and I didn't notice I started to cry again until he wiped the tears from my cheek. I grabbed his hand and smile then hug him carefully, "I'm happy you are okay Scott" Dean said as he gave him a handshake, "It was all thanks to you Dean and your brother Sam, if not probably all of us would have been dead by now" he said and I saw Dean gave him a smile. I sat down and Dean next to me and Scott grabbed my hands, "I'm sorry..." he said but I interrupt him, "Scott it was not your-" I said but he stopped me, "no Y/n listen I did that to you, to us and I regret it since the day you left me and I want to tell you that I am really sorry for not being there for you when you needed me the most. Probably if I was there we could have, I could have prevented that from happening. No one should go through that alone, I would not even wish that for my worst enemy, but I let you deal with it alone and I feel like the worst person" he said and I saw it on his eyes all the regret and pain he was going through, "Scott it wasn't your fault, I never said anything, I didn't even knew until that day that I ended on the hospital as you said before maybe it wasn't meant to be with this lifestyle and all this going around us, we were really young to start with" I said and he just smiles, "probably in another life Y/n" he said as he squished my hand and I smiled as tears rolled down my cheek, "yeah probably in another life, but you better not fuck it up Scotty" I said with a smile and he laughs, "I will not. I promise" he said as I got up and embrace him, "Dean take care of this wild chick, she is special," he said to Dean as we walked out the room, "I know. I will" he answer before we walked out.

He was still holding me and I knew that he could be the one. Or better words he is the one.

Dean's POV:

I know this was hard for Y/n to be open about this topic more with Scott and me, but I know she is strong to deal with this and I would not leave her to deal with all this on her own she has her dad, Sammy, Bobby, Scott and me to help her. After listening to what they talked about I knew that if the time comes in which Y/n get's pregnant with one of my kids I will be there for her all the time without a doubt it doesn't matter if I have to come back from hell or anywhere to not leave her alone with our kid.

'Our kid' that sounds good, me having kids with Y/n in some time I thought as I felt her stir in bed with me as we were back in the Bunker, I looked down at her and kissed her forehead, I placed my hand where our babies would be growing and I smile just thinking about it. This was new for me I have never felt this kind of hope with any girl and not even this kind of love, she makes it seem so... simple.

~ A WEEK LATER~

Today was finally the day the Scott was going to get out of the hospital, me and him talked and we became I can even say, friends. I was happy that he accepted that Y/n was mine but he did tell me that if I messed up he is coming for her and take her away from me but not before he kicks my ass which I doubt, but oh well.

"take care Winchesters," he said as he hugged Sam and then me, "you too Paxton," I said as I patted him on the back, "and you, my Little Y/n take extra care of yourself and if you get in trouble call me so I can help," he said as he hugged her and squish her which cause me to glare at him.

"Okay Scott move aside and let me hug my Little Bubba," her dad said pushing Scott away from her which cause all of us to laugh at his actions, "C' mere baby," he said opening his arms and Y/n went straight to him and hugged him, "you too son," he said looking at me and opening his arms, I was looking down when he said that, as I look up my sight moves from left to right and he just opens his arms wider, "C' mere son cause my arms are getting tired," he said and I just walked up to him and he hugged both me and Y/n, "I'm proud of all you," he said as he hugged Sam, Y/n and me again.

"Dean, may I have a word with you alone?" Rodney said and I started to get nervous, "yes, sir" I answer and walked towards him, "don't worry son, is nothing bad," he said and I relaxed a little still being a little aware that he is my Y/n's dad, "Son, I don't know if your old man ever told you this, but I just want to let you know that I am proud of you. I have heard things about you from Bobby and I always wanted to meet you and your brother. And both live my expectations that I acquire from that old man, but I'm not gonna talk to you from hunter to hunter, I am talking to you from father of the girl over there to you. I just want you to promise me that you will love her as much as you can and when you stop just tell her and let her know and don't do it like that son of a bitch over there, son. I just want you to promise me that" he said placing his hands on my shoulder squishing them, "of course sir I will, but I don't think I will let her out of my grip, she means to much to me" I said being completely truthful, "I like that son"  he said embracing me again one last time before we walked to the others.

"I drive," Scott said as he looked with disgust at Rodney then he laughs and hugged all of us again but pulled Y/n closer to him and squish her, "hey hands off her!" I said loud and he just laughs and raised his hands, "guilty Winchester" he said as he got into the car and Rodney got into the passenger seat. Before they completely drive away, they stopped in front of us I had my hand inside of Y/n's jean pocket and she had her arm around my waist, "I hope we see each other in a better condition, not a hunt" her dad said and drove off waving at us.

"well I guess we should head back to the Bunker before we encounter more ex's," she said and Sam and I laugh, "very true Y/n," Sam said as he walks in front of us towards Baby, "Nah Sammy you go in the back seat," I said as I saw him opening the passenger door, "but you know there's not a lot of space for my legs," he said complaining and I raised my hand to stop him, " don't worry Sammy I will distract him so you can get in front," she said putting her hands around my neck and kissing me deeply, suddenly I heard the door of the Impala open and close. I look back and see Sam sitting on the passenger side and I turn to Y/n, "no fair you always are able to distract me" I said and she smiles and pulled me towards the car.

She got in the back seat as I got into the driver seat and I started the engine to head to the Bunker that was about 30 minutes away from where we were.

[aewinning]

Hey you!!! Long time no chatting (uni is still kicking my ass, possibly harder than last time) it's me, the anon who begged for the scara/tighnari maintenance fic (tbh i still brag about that, it was an AMAZING fic). I just read "A Certain Dreamlike Quality"!!! Fucking chef's kiss. Very very nice. Lovely concept as usual. And Kavetham felt even more in character than ever. I really really liked the comment about Kaveh treating Alhaitham's granny's journals with care, it was very sweet. And i also started thinking about that whole porn trade in Port Osmos. Like yeah it makes sense, Teyvat SHOULD have pornography. Probably not what u wanted the reader to focus on but it did seem like a nice subtle world-building element. Either way, really good work!!! Also ur gonna get Baizhu soon!! I think i remember u being excited about him finally being playable. If im mistaken then sorry lol. Im saving up for kaveh. Anyways have a nice day!!! Looking forward to more delicious writing!! 🤗

Hello hello! Welcome back and I hope university eases up on you soon! Thank you for the kind comment and I'm glad you enjoyed the fic, it was so much fun to write. I do hope to do more for them at some point especially after Kaveh's profile/lore drops, but right now I'm working on getting out the third fic in my Baizhu/Childe/Zhongli series haha.

I did spend a lot of time figuring out where Alhaitham would go for sex research of the places we've been, lol. I probably thought about it TOO much, to be honest. My thoughts:

Mondstadt probably has plenty of naughty content, being as open as it is, likely in poem or novel form for the most part? Liyue probably has more traditional erotic paintings and a few instruction manuals, often in less savory sales stalls off the main street (like under the docks).

Same for Inazuma, though it may not be an art form that's flourished while Inazuma was in the grip of so many decrees. I bet it's about to undergo a renaissance though, with the loosening of restrictions and resumption of imports. And Sumeru...the Akademiya probably has some dry old books on sex from people that have never had it, focusing on anatomy, but I imagine Port Ormos the party town probably had quite the fun knowledge capsules when the Akasha was functioning, haha.

Fontaine is probably about 5 years out from filming the first adult movie. idk about Natlan's current status due to the game's allergy to giving us Natlan lore, but Snezhnayans probably pass dirty mags around the barracks and give each other handies to keep warm. And you KNOW there are a lot of pinups that look suspiciously like the Harbingers, lmao.

You are also correct that I am hella looking forward to Baizhu! He's who I've most looked forward to ever since I met him when I started playing in 1.3. Two years of waiting! I have about 360 wishes saved for next patch and unfortunately I want Nahida, Nilou, Baizhu, AND Kaveh, but the good news is that I'm 40ish into pity on a guarantee right now. I may decide to skip Nilou in favor of going for Baizhu's weapon, we'll see. I refuse to go below 180 pulls before his banner, he WILL come home one way or another.

Good luck on your own Kaveh pulls when the time comes! He looks like a really fun unit and I'm planning on triple crowning him myself b/c babygirl deserves to be treated just as well as Alhaitham even if he's not a 5 star. (Which will make...4 dendro guys triple crowned for me. Send help, I have an addiction.)

[annacantdie]

written 5/22/22

The year I was fifteen was easily the worst year of my life. To be fair, I am young, so I don't have a lot of competition between the other 9 or 10 years I can actually remember, but it was traumatic nonetheless. I like to describe my life in ways that diminish the things that have happened to me. A mindset portrayed by hollow phrases such as “life just dealt me a shitty hand of cards”, and “i make the best of what i’ve been given” Those describing my generally dissatisfying life in a nonchalant way, but the way i’ve coped with my hardships has been anything but nonchalant.

I frequently wonder what I'd say to my fifteen year old self if I was given the opportunity to have a conversation with her. She was a troubled shadow of the person I am now, and while I'm in no way completely stable or healed of that girl I was, I think that my younger counterpart would be surprised at how far I’ve come. When i was fifteen i attempted suicide. That statement has been so ingrained into my speech, between having to explain to doctors, therapists, mentors, and friends, it does not feel like any sort of a big deal. Everybody goes through rough patches, my brain repeats, why would mine be any different? These statements heavily downplay the intensity of every emotion I felt at that period of my life. Every single feeling was heightened to an intense degree. A happy moment with a friend didn’t give me a comforting sense of joy, it gave me a manic state of excitement. A snappy moment from a parent didn't give me a quick sting to be shaken off, it sent me into a panic attack. I was far from but the mellow persona i’ve adapted now, I was an ticking time bomb simply waiting to go off at any moment. So many things had built up inside of me, I was absolutely unstable, and I truly couldn’t see a future where I wasn’t dead. I had no desire to be alive, and that statement isn’t said lightly. I genuinely lost my will to live, and the intrusive self harming thoughts that had haunted me ever since I could remember were becoming far more actual considerations for me than far off ideas driven by random emotional situations. I’d grown up always thinking I'd be better off dead, even happier dead, but those thoughts stayed locked away in a nightmarish area of my consciousness, never at the forefront where ideas were actually given a sense of consideration. Then, as was probably expected, I made the decision to end my own life. I attempted, failed, and woke up in the morning disappointed. But, unsurprisingly as the extremely depressed person I was at that time, I was not willing to put in the effort to come up with a new idea to try again. I could barely force myself to get out of bed to pee, I wasn’t about to come up with an intricate plan to take my own life after my first one didn’t work.

So, with the contextual nonsense out of the way, I think I've figured out an idea of what’d I’d say to that deeply troubled girl, and while I can’t present this to her, I might as well put it out there. Hopefully it’ll heal that part of me that's still that broken fourteen year old girl, or maybe it’ll help someone else. I don’t really care which.

Hey man, how are ya? Not well, I know, I was there. Literally. I don’t fucking know if this will help, like at all, but I wanna tell you all the things that get better. SO much of the shit that feels like it's suffocating you right now works out, and while things haven’t made it to perfection yet, as of now at least, there’s a much higher level of breathing room two years from where you're at now, I promise.

Let’s start out with the lighthearted stuff, you've got a killer haircut right now. You learned how to make your natural hair look insanely good, and you have the coolest shaggy, curly, healthy head of hair ever. And you got bangs, they look amazing. To top it off you finally learned to dress the way you want, and people finally associate you with having good style, just like you’ve always wanted. You still listen to the same music, but you've found so much other cool new shit that gets you through the day better than anything else can, and you still love to draw more than anything else in this world. You've got three amazing best friends, a plethora of other cronies, and a boyfriend you're absolutely head over heels for. Mom finally loosens up and you've got a phone with every social media your heart could want, completely unmonitored. And finally you’re comfortable with your sexuality and are generally out as a queer person. While there's so many more little things that I think you’d enjoy to hear, I feel like with those more significant ones out of the way we should address the elephant in the room.

We’re alive. Crazy, right?

I know that if you had to put everything you owned on it, you’d bet you’d be dead by seventeen. But look at where you are now! I know you well, you are me after all, and so I'm aware it is not comforting to you for me to sing your praises, to say how proud I am of you, I know it only makes you feel like shit. That pathetic feeling where people praise you for accomplishments, the ones that while are monumental for you would not be monumental for the average person, doesn't go away, but hopefully it’ll mean a little something coming from your future self. I’m proud of you. Of us. Of me. The road ahead of you is difficult, and does not come without challenge, new and old, but you kill it. Never does it become easy, you will struggle, you will scream, you will cry, and you will consider a take two on the whole death by your own hand thing, but you keep your head up. With every piece of shit that fucks you over, every freak of nature type accident that absolutley screws up your wellbeing, and every good person that unintentionally hurts you, you keep on walking. Sometimes you pull yourself up by your bootstraps and get through it, and sometimes a kind soul offers a hand. Life doesn’t get easier per say, but by god you get good at getting through it. Keep up the good work, stay stubborn, and stay driven. It’ll help you more than you know.

That's all for now I guess, I hope that provides you some sort of comfort, and I can't wait for you to fully experience the person you're growing to be.

L8R SK8R

Best wishes,

Anna-Claire Chupp