#it’d be cool to make em friends

[rayalltheway]

One You Remember

Description: Yellowtusk enters the LWAU, thanks to an encounter he had with a living Changbiyuan far in the past.

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“Celestial!” An unfamiliar voice barked from some distance behind Yellowtusk, stopping him in his tracks as he walked through the outpost. 

A gibbon demon was standing on top of the hill that descended into the village. They were imposing in stature, blue fur and dark haired, the fur outline around their lighter-blue face shaped like a rounded butterfly — a symbol that was designed into their armour and clothes, which had clearly seen recent action. They were androgynous in appearance, looking neither like a man or a woman — so Yellowtusk assumed them to be neither, like his fellow Celestial warrior Peng. 

And right now, they looked less than pleased, at him, it would seem, as they marched down the hill in purposeful strides. They slowed down a bit once they crossed into the town, taking a moment to survey the destruction around them with a softened expression.  Yellowtusk had been sent down here with a larger group of celestial warriors to arrest a viper demon queen that had decimated a village under the rule of a celestial official. The aftermath was enough so that he wished to take his time with – and not just because he prided himself on being particular. 

The gibbon naturally eased back into soldier mode once they drew closer to the troop of celestial guards. They made no move to draw either of the dao blades strapped to their back, but a few of the celestial soldiers moved in quick formation to block their path with their spears. They stopped a hair’s inch from the crossed polearms, not fazed, simply raising their chin to make their voice heard once more. 

“I was one of the warriors on the field of battle today! And for the sake of more of them, I need to have a word with you!” They stated in an authoritative tone, loud enough for everyone to hear — glaring right at Yellowtusk. Things were still for a moment, some taken back by how defiantly this demon was speaking to Yellowtusk the Wise — himself included, though he was quickly recognized as a fellow veteran.

“…Of course.” He said, and nodded at the guards halting the gibbon to let them pass. They breezed past the two, coming to a stop in front of him. Even when they had to look up at him, they still made themselves tall and proud. 

“That was….quite an entrance. Have we met?” Yellowtusk asked in a measured tone. The gibbon’s features flashed a brief are-you-kidding-me expression before they hardened once more. 

“Fortunately not. My soldiers and I have been out here fighting that viper hag for a few weeks now.” They stated, bluntly. “We were in a pitched battle before you all showed up and ended it. Thank you for that, by the way. Sorry most of the action happened without you.” They continued with a light shrug, casting another look to the land around them, a slightly sardonic tone in their voice, though not without care. That itself was nice, and Yellowtusk found many of his colleagues made light of the situations that occurred beneath the earth, but not as a way of dealing with the sadness and unfairness of them, but because they felt so above it. 

Yellowtusk nodded in understanding.

“I see. You were a part of those rebelling demon factions.” He said, referring to the several demon camps that were set up around the mountain, making a truce to oppose a single threat. He felt somewhat guilty for rendering that amity mute for taking over the matter himself with his other celestial warrior. “You must be quite strong to still be alive. What is your name?” 

Changbiyaun arched an eyebrow. “Well, I see why you got that title of yours.” They said with a light smile, before they bowed. “I am Changbiyuan, warrior head of the Butterfly clan, in the mountains some miles north from here.”

Yellowtusk had never heard of them, but returned the greeting. 

“It is good to meet you, Changbiyuan. I’m sorry, but I cannot secure any land in the name of your clan, but any of the viper’s clansmen have escaped into your borders, we can track them down —“

Changbiyaun gave him an incredulous expression and let out a disbelieving scoff. “Are you kidding? It would be lucky if anything manages to grow in that cesspool again. That bitch did a real number on this place, and for what? To make some power-pedestal so she could pretend she’s the one true face of glory?”

Yellowtusk was getting quite stalled by their…plainspokeness. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone other than Peng had talked to him like this. 

“—And I didn’t come here to ask you to deal with problems I can handle.” They crossed their arms and were glaring at him once more, stoically. “I’m only here because you unjustly arrested my warriors. I am asking you to release them and return them to me, now.” They way they said that made it feel like anything they wanted could be brought forth into existence through the sheer force of their own will — but Yellowtusk only furrowed his brow in response.  

“Your warriors? You mean the viper’s guard?” He asked, suspicious now. They didn’t budge, but rolled their eyes, though not at him. 

“You mean the ‘guard’ that is made up of demons that the snake lady poisoned and kidnapped so she could force them to do their bidding? Because yeah, they’re  not hers.” The stated. “A quarter of them are warriors of mine and my sister’s clan. She had the gall to take them from within our borders.” They growled out that last part with a dark expression, fists clenching from where they rested on their biceps. 

Yellowtusk knew that, but was still a bit surprised regardless. He and the other celestial soldiers had arrested the viper’s demons following her defeat because her venomous control over the kinds of others was something she spread to her henchmen. He had removed the spell himself, leaving the demon in a confused daze. Even so, he had orders to see her warriors incarcerated, punished for partaking in crimes against the Celestial Realm. 

“And what exactly makes you believe we have them? We’re short of her full army.” He asked, wanting to be sure whether or not this gibbon was bluffing in order to make up for any numbers they might have lost during the battle with a handful of miscellaneous demons. They, on the other hand, narrowed their eyes at him with a slightly disbelieving look, before reaching into a pocket and thrusting their hand out at him, Yellowtusk seeing a small metal crest between their claws. It was silver and light, with the metalworking forming swirling lines that came together as a butterfly. It was a clan crest. 

“Because I saw one of your soldiers confiscating the armour of MY clan, that’s why. You should know which ones they came from. They ALL had this, covered by those scales that viper made them wear. She made them fodder.” The fury in their voice as they recounted the Viper’s deeds did indicate to Yellotusk that they were telling the truth, and he was stilled by the idea of what they described. He regarded the crest coolly, thoughtfully, but found the gibbon was unwilling to take silence as an answer.

“This is ridiculous.” They shook their head, arm dropping to their side and squaring their shoulders with righteous indignation. “You KNOW they were mind-controlled. You took the Viper demon down, the real threat is gone. Allow the warriors she captured to return to their rightful posts, and regain their agency. Their lives.”  Glancing around, Yellowtusk could see the Celestial soldiers around them were staring now, watching the display with either shock or anticipation. Yellowtusk scowled in the direction of some who looked amused under their helmets, and they turned away quickly. 

Yellowtusk sighed and turned back to the gibbon, who couldn’t seem to care less about the mocking eyes on them. 

“Would you speak to me in private about this?” He asked, his voice as imploring as it could be in this setting. Their face briefly scrunched up in distaste, but they also seemed to take note of his meaning, and sighed, nodding. They followed him into one of the larger nearby buildings still left standing, which Yellowtusk had been using as a makeshift office for his time here. Once he was sure they were alone, he turned to them in the dimness, sunlight breaking through the holes in the roof and walls. 

“Listen, Changbiyuan, I’m afraid that isn’t –” He paused, thinking and deciding to rephrase his next words before speaking again. “Our orders, my orders are to see any of the Viper’s forces imprisoned. She went against my realm, attacked one of our own. The emperor demands we make an example of her, and all who served her.” He said – though he didn’t find much conviction within his own words. He collected himself, keeping up his reasonable, yet untouchable front. The doubts he had and shared only with Peng in private, quiet places would not suffice out here in the field, where his loyalty was owed.

Even so, he felt himself wavering while looking into the gibbon’s eyes, something close to outrage burning within the browns of their irises, surging through them. “Unwillingly served her. Did you write THAT down? Or was that in the order given to you?” They challenged, eyes blazing. “My warriors would have never chose to do anything for her. They would have died before they submitted to a will they know not to be right.” Yellowtusk’s eyes widened at that notion, as they spoke it like it was just as things were. As they should be. 

“…I’m sorry. I do not have a choice here.” He said, as if he was still in broad daylight, under the sky, in the sights of Heaven, still staying under their thumb no matter how unjust it felt not doing so. He waited for Changbiyuan to let their anger slip, to end up getting dragged away by the nearby guards even with no intention of fighting, or even just curse him out and storm off. Instead, their eyes stayed on him for a long moment, before they dropped to the ground, nodding their head, seemingly in understanding. Or in consideration.

“Alright. I understand… “ they said, uncharacteristically calmly, and Yellowtusk did feel relieved, though the feeling was dragged down by a gnawing guilt — 

“If you need to enact punishment, then I’m right here.”

There weren’t many things that could make Yellowtusk’s mind halt, but this was officially one of them. “What?” He asked. 

Changbiyaun sighed, looking ahead, a heaviness set upon their frame. In this moment, the weight of their own sense of duty — the weight of the aftermath of war — was clear as their pride, and perhaps even outshone it. 

“They’re my soldiers. They’re in my charge and it is my duty to direct and guide them, and it was because of my own miscalculations and unthought decisions that put them in this position. They’re all some of the most sincere, most loyal demons I know, which is why I know they wouldn’t have done anything in these last few weeks that they weren’t forced to, and they never would’ve had their dignity violated so deeply if it weren’t for my misjudgment.” Thier voice never wavered. There was no self-pity in their words, no need for sympathy. Yellowtusk was still stunned even listening.

“I was in command, and of sound mind. I should have done better for them, and never should have forced my own will upon them the way that viper did. They are not at fault. and if you need someone to blame, I will take responsibility for their crimes, if you — “ They stopped, and brought their eyes back up  to Yellowtusk’s — and they were pleading.

“If you just let them go. Please.” 

Yellowtusk was silent, before he regained himself, giving the gibbon a hard look. “This is rash. You should know fully what you are saying. Surely your family — they need you here, protecting them.”

Changbiyaun snorted in response, looking to the side and shaking their head. “Dammit, that’s why I’m saying it. Wouldn’t you do the same?” They asked, glancing back at him, and Yellowtusk wasn’t sure if he should respond to that, though they didn’t give him time to.

“Those warriors are my clan. My family. I am here because those are the people I need to protect. So if I don’t do all I can for them, then I don’t deserve to.” They said, their voice full of fire, of finality, which was no less than what their eyes displayed, directed at the warrior within Yellowtusk rather than the Celestial without. 

He stared. This demon warrior of the mortal realm, displaying more bravery and nobility than most he met in a century. Was he so unsure of himself that he was letting them have the high ground here?…but then, has it been him on the lower end this whole time, no matter whether he was from the clouds above or not? How could he even still be standing here deliberating this? 

He took in a long, deep breath — and let it out like it was his last. Dammit, he thought, as he turned to the low table in the corner, various bamboo slips organised upon it. With a surprising amount of delicacy, he took a blank one, took his nearby ink, and wrote with careful speed. 

“That won’t be necessary.” He said as he finished, standing up and turning back to Changbiyaun, who was waiting only somewhat restlessly. He held out the slip to them, and they stared at it before giving him a questioning look. 

“That declares to the guards that you can access the captured warriors here in camp in order to locate yours, and leave with them.” He stated, and it was their turn to look surprised, eyes widening.

“What? You mean —“

“You can take them and go. Do not make a fanfare out of it, I do not do this lightly.” Yellowtusk said, still maintaining his necessary front as they took the slips from him. They were still looking up at him, their shock and suspicion laced with concern — directed at him.

“Your orders — you’re going to go back upstairs with an army that’s a quarter shorter than required?”

Yellowtusk shrugged. “Not if that quarter was never here to begin with as far as they’re concerned.” 

Changbiyaun stared at him for another moment longer, before their mouth closed in a firm smile, straightening once more and bowing. “Thank you.” They said, their strong, bold eyes soft with gratitude as they raised up, before turning and walking out of the building, into the sun.

Yellowtusk stayed there for a while, before leaving to return back to his duty. He had much more to think about in the centuries that passed as his loyalty to the Celestials waned further and further until he was eventually just biding his time — but he felt that even without his well-regarded memory,  he wouldn’t forget that day. Or that gibbon. 

~~~~~

“Yellowtusk.” The Lotus Prince’s voice cut through the comfortable silence of Yellowtusk’s cell in the Celestial Realm. He turned from his reading, which Ne Zha allowed him to have for taking his arrest so willingly, to look over his shoulder at the figure of the Celestial from the other side of the magically enforced bars. He wasn’t going to try and escape, but he accepted the precautions as only standard. 

“You have a visitor.” Ne Zha stated, and Yellowtusk’s ears raised questionably at that. “The guards will stand by to observe, but I have confirmed they are associated with the Monkie Kid. Don’t get any ideas.” He said, before turning sharply and nodding over his shoulder at someone out of view. Then, he was gone.

Yellowtusk was still with thought. He couldn’t think of who that could possibly be, and the fact they knew the heroes he had briefly fought alongside those few weeks ago didn’t help in that regard.

 Still, he sighed to himself and turned, knowing it was only right to face whomever this was fully and without shame — and was startled seeing they were already standing there. He hadn’t even heard them walking up to the cell. 

An elderly ape with a gentle, relaxed expression and stature was in front of this cell door, long white hair cascading down thier shoulders and partly done up at the back of their head. They wore what looked to be a modern variation of long, loose hanfu under a beige woollen jacket. But what really struck Yellowtusk was their eyes — or maybe the lack of them, and they were empty, dark pools with two golden pupils of light centering them, like he has seen in ghosts or spirits in the past. Beyond that, their dark blue fur framed the shape of a butterfly on their face —

Wait. 

Yellowtusk stood now in utter bewilderment as the memory of that young gibbon warrior full of promise, pride and self-sacrifice came back to him, the image of them melding into the gibbon in front of him now, the crowsfeet around their eyes lifting as they smiled at him, kind and warm — with just the hint of that familiar smirk he remembering when they teased his title, now seeing that he indeed remembered them. 

“Elephant memory?” They guessed, their voice clearly weathered by age along with the rest of them, but still holding that sense of undaunting strength, and compassion.  

“It’s you.” Yellowtusk breathed, stepping closer to the cell door before they were both standing as those two warriors in that dilapidated village building once did, two millennia ago. 

Changbiyaun grinned. “Hey there, Yellowtusk the Wise. Turns out, I missed one.”

[mars-ipan]

SIGHH

[undeadcannibal]

Could you do headcannon of the Taskforce 141 boys having a civilian fem!spouse? I’m not a soldier so I am curious to see what they are like and how they meet said spouse. ❤️

Summary: Headcanons for how Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz meet their civilian SO

Genre: Headcanons, request(s) Characters featured: Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz!

Warnings: none!

A/N: Hopefully you enjoy these! I had fun coming up with different ways they’d meet ‘em. ( Gif credit: xxx )

Price―

He’d be in the middle of a discussion with some of his friends when one of them casually mentions the name of a dating app that’s supposedly hot right now.

At first, he doesn’t care. Reassures himself he’s too old and busy to waste his time with such a thing... until he has a rough night during his downtime. Loneliness weighing heavily on him to the point he finds himself downloading the damn app during a moment of weakness.

At first, he doesn’t use it much. His profile is simple: he’ll post a few photos of himself, vaguely mention what he does for a living, what he’s looking for. And that’s that for a few months. Whenever he had the time, he’d swipe through a couple profiles here and there, but nothing serious had ever come from it.

Until 6 months later, when he finds himself humoring that deep ache in his heart, browsing through profile after profile until he lands on yours.

He knows better than to be fooled by looks, but he’d also be a liar if he said that he wasn’t smitten with you the moment he’d laid eyes on your photo. With a swipe, he silently hopes that the two of you will match, and when you eventually do, he’s over the moon but plays it as cool as he possibly can.

When he takes you out after talking for a while, he properly wines and dines you, doesn’t even kiss you after the first date either. Instead, he’d taken your hand in his and kissed it before asking if he can take you out again.

It takes a few years, but when he proposes, he goes all out in every way possible but makes sure to keep it all private. He can’t stand public proposals.

Soap―

He was home for the holiday season when he’d met you in a super market. You’d looked as lost as ever when browsing the food, so he couldn’t help but ask if you were okay. You mentioned that you were shopping for a relative but weren’t local so you had no idea where to even begin.

He’d helped you grab everything you needed before he felt a rush of anxiety hit him like a train. He’ll never understand what drove him to feel as if he couldn’t let you go without at least asking for your number, but he was thankful for it for the rest of his life.

You’d talk to one another over the phone throughout your entire stay and long afterwards too... By the time the holidays are rolling around again, the two of you had been long-distance for quite sometime, but it’d be the first time seeing you in person after so long. After spending the holiday together between both of your homes, Johnny can’t help but want to keep you in his life for as long as you’ll allow it.

2 years down the line, the two of you are visiting his family again when he decided to propose to you, and when you accepted, best believe both him and his family were excited and quick to initiate a group hug in celebration.

Ghost―

When Simon is off duty, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He struggles with finding things to keep himself occupied while he’s home. Stress and other emotions make even the simplest of tasks difficult for him. So, over time, he’d developed a habit of heading down to a local park to try and relax. Sometimes he’d take a book, other times he simply sat at a bench and allowed himself to get lost in his own mind. Mostly, he’d sit in silence and just enjoy watching the world pass him by.

One day when he’s walking over to his usual bench, he sees you there with a book in one hand and a drink in another. Captivated by the words on the page to the point that you don’t even notice him when he sits down on the opposite end of it, not saying a word or even glancing at you afterward. Instead, he simply watches you out of his peripheral vision. Wondering what you’re reading that has you so engaged.

He didn’t speak to you then. Instead, he’d allowed it to happen a few more times until you finally broke the silence between you two. Glancing up at him from behind your book with a shy smile as you introduced yourself to him. Behind a dark disposable mask, Ghost’s lips quirk upwards into the smallest of grins, thankful that you’d taken initiative. After you greet him, you do your best to make the occasional small-talk before you’ve to leave.

The same thing happens a few more times before he finds himself purchasing a burner phone just so he can give you a number to reach him at.

From there, the two of you would get to know one another better, sharing park dates together before you began to suggest other types of dates. Next thing Simon knew, the two of you were officially together and he was absolutely mad about you, thinking about you every second of his days. Despite the fact, he’s a complicated man with a lot of baggage, so he takes his time with your relationship.

4 years later, he’s the one to beat you to the punch and proposing to you in the very same park you met at after he takes you on a picnic.

Gaz―

IMO, Gaz seems like the type to frequent a coffee shop/cafe he enjoys to the point he’s basically a regular. Has his own favorite table, order, and everything. That is, until one day he arrives a bit later than usual and he sees you sitting there.

Normally, he would have just let you have the table but before he could even turn away to find another one, you were asking him if everything was alright. He couldn’t find it in himself to say yes and turn away. Instead, he somehow manages to not only ask if you two can share the table, but give you a dazzling smile after he does so as well. Taking special notice in how you had blushed afterward.

He wouldn’t ask you out right away. Instead, he’d build up to it. Gives you his number that first day so you two can get to know one another better while he’s off duty. He has to head back for another mission soon, but rest assured whenever he has any time off and it’s safe to do so, he’s spending all of his free time messaging and calling you. Getting to know you better.

Eventually, after the two of you have spent a few unofficial coffee dates together, he works up the courage to ask you out on a proper date. He’s upfront - but vague - about what he does and how it can affect his free time, but thankfully, you never cared. Instead, you’re just happy he finally asked you out after months of beating around the bush.

After your first date together, it’s all downhill from there. He’d fallen head-over-heels for you to the point even his fellow Task Force members noticed and teased him about it. Even more so after he’d gush about how he swears “you’re the one”

Little did they know by the end of the next year, the two of you would be engaged~

[97-liners]

out of the frying pan and into your heart

jeon wonwoo x female reader

tags: college au, fraternities, fake dating, misunderstandings, childhood friends to lovers, this all could have been resolved with some proper communication, lots of pining specifically for em, fluff, rom com, best friend minghao, y/n is oblivious!!!

warnings: alcohol, weed, frats, american college setting

words: 9.3k

synopsis:

it starts, as it always does with this particular collection of friends, with shenanigans and cahoots.

well, more specifically, for wonwoo it starts with shenanigans, when soonyoung and junhui somehow manage to collide brain cells and write in to the school newspaper's love advice columnist about his crush on his childhood best friend.

and for you, the aforementioned childhood best friend and, in secret, also the aforementioned love advice columnist, it starts with cahoots when kim mingyu manages to convince you to fake date him so he can win some popularity contest for his frat.

for @notesof-mh

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It starts, as it always does with this particular collection of friends, with shenanigans and cahoots. 

Well, more specifically, for Wonwoo it starts with shenanigans, when Soonyoung and Junhui somehow manage to collide brain cells. 

He had barely been awake for 15 seconds when they had barged into his room, laptop in hands, just to show him the text in a pink-colored submission box surrounded by heart emojis. Wonwoo squints, the blurry words coming into just enough focus for him to make out what they say. “Dear Cherry, I’m a third year computer science student and I’m in love with my best friend, except I’m— what the hell is this?” 

He glares at Soonyoung who grins cheerfully and points again at the screen. “Read the rest, Wonwoo!”

Wonwoo sighs and continues reading. “Except I’m a huge awkward loser and she’s so cool and pretty, and I don’t know how to tell her I like her. What should I do?”

“Alright, hit send,” Junhui instructs, tilting the laptop away and laughing maniacally. 

Wonwoo pushes his hand across his face, trying his best to wipe away the last vestiges of sleep-addled confusion, and then he realizes what’s happening.

“Wait, you can’t do that,” he tries to protest, but Soonyoung giggles and clicks a button.

“No, this will be good,” Junhui says, plopping down on the edge of Wonwoo’s bed. “Minghao told me that whoever runs the advice column in the school paper is, like, a love guru, and she has four thousand followers on instagram. And she’s never shown her face, but she’s probably also really pretty.”

Wonwoo groans. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“Just trust us,” Soonyoung pats Wonwoo’s knee through the blanket, “this is a good idea.”

And for you, it starts with kahoots, when your chemistry lab partner, Mingyu, pulls your stool closer to his side and whispers a proposition to you.

“Do you want to be my fake girlfriend?”

You narrow your eyes at him through your fogged up department-issued safety goggles. “Are you insane? What kind of fumes are you on?”

“None,” Mingyu replies. “I’m Sigma’s nominee for the Greek God award at the inter-fraternity tournament this year and I’m the only nominee who’s single.”

“And so I’m your pick,” you respond flatly. 

Mingyu nods eagerly. His safety glasses slide down his nose, and he has to push them back up. “Yeah, you’re so pretty and cool, I think it’d be really impressive if I somehow managed to pull you.”

“Huh.”

“And,” he adds on, lowering his voice even more, “Jeonghan thinks my only real competition this year is going to be Jung Jaehyun from Nu Kappa Tau, and rumor has it you rejected him in high school. Twice. So I think it’d be pretty funny if we ended up together.”

You scoff and turn back toward the titration in front of you. “You can’t go up to people and ask for things like this.”

“C’mon, you know the winner gets free parking for an entire semester,” he whines. “Ok, how’s this? If you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend for the Greek God award, I’ll write our lab reports for the rest of the semester.” 

His offer makes you pause, and he jumps on that pause, wedging his way in there. 

“I’ll give you executive editing power, but I’ll do all the work,” he wheedles, “and I’ll give you a perfect peer eval at the end of the semester. I promise,” he puts a big meaty hand on your lab notebook and smears the ink under his fingers. “Kim Mingyu isn’t a liar.”

“I’ll conveniently ignore the fact that you’re lying about having a girlfriend to win this award, then,” you roll your eyes.

“That’s different, though,” he protests, “the award is dumb and meaningless and I really want it. But a promise made between buddies is important.”

He looks earnest, so you decide to lay off on him just a little. “When we’re fake-dating,” you sigh, “you can’t call us buddies anymore.”

“So that’s a…”

You groan, hating yourself for being so indulgent. “Yes. That’s a yes.”

.

.

.

“Hold on Y/N, have you seen this?”

“Seen what?” You look over the top of your laptop screen, where you’re halfway through a paper on the Cuban Missile Crisis. 

Minghao, your co-admin of the school newspaper’s (infamous) advice column turns his screen towards you. “Someone wrote in calling themselves a huge awkward loser.”

“Huh,” you grin to yourself as you read over the message quickly. “That’s kind of cute, actually.”

“Of course you think it’s cute,” Minghao rolls his eyes. “I’m going to assign this one over to you.”

“Yeah, sure, but please,” you mutter, “can you be a bit more discreet about it?”

Minghao looks at you over the top of his glasses. “What, about us being Ask Cherry? It’s not as embarrassing as you make it out to be.”

“Be quiet,” you hiss, looking around, “someone could overhear!” You frown, and then quietly, you add on, “and it is embarrassing. I’m supposed to be a journalism major, and I’m here making up horoscopes and giving fake relationship advice three days a week.”

This is an overstatement, and Minghao rolls his eyes. You only make up horoscopes and give fake relationship advice one day a week (Mondays are for Matters Of The Heart, your schedule says). There’s also Am I The Asshole Wednesdays, a campus favorite, and Friday Free-for-alls, when you field confessions of all types. Dear Cherry, I need to get this off my chest. I’ve been using my roommate’s shampoo this whole semester, and today I found out that our two other roommates have also been using this roommate’s shampoo. He doesn’t suspect a thing. 

You hadn’t meant to end up in this position. You write serious pieces for the school newspaper too, reporting on the Student Government’s legislative sessions and the university’s semesterly budget for grants to culturally-centered student organizations. Those articles, you have your name attached to. But at the end of last year, the new editor-in-chief Jeonghan had approached you and convinced (strong-armed) you into becoming the new writer for the infamous advice column, Ask Cherry, since Cherry himself was quitting to make more time for other priorities.

(“And the kicker is,” you had complained to Minghao, “nobody will ever believe me.” Choi Seungcheol, fraternity president, football player, gym rat, jock, fuckboy extraordinaire— relationship advice columnist? No, it’s simply not realistic. 

“I’m sitting on the juiciest piece of gossip to cross my path in my entire life, and I can’t do anything about it,” you say dejectedly.

“Hmm.” Minghao doesn’t even pretend to be interested.)

But, despite your disastrous real-world love life, your clumsily dispensed life advice, and the completely made up horoscopes, Ask Cherry readership skyrocketed under your intrepid watch. Once, you told a reader that the albino squirrel that lives in the tree next to the physics building was a good omen, and the next day, rumor spread that an albino squirrel sighting would grant you an A on your next exam. For weeks after, people would scatter peanuts and pieces of toast by the base of the tree next to the physics building, until campus facilities had to fence the area off because raccoons were starting to show up instead. 

Minghao finding out had been a complete accident, after you had lent him your laptop to print out a paper that was due the next hour, but you had forgotten to minimize the window with your Ask Chrery submissions. Minghao, being someone who loves giving advice, both solicited and unsolicited, naturally joined in on this scheme of yours. 

“Anyways,” you shrug. You look up as Junhui steps into the public study area of the library and scans the tables twice before making eye contact with you, and then waving. “Minghao, did you invite the others over to study with us?”

“Yeah,” Minghao responds, raising an eyebrow at you. “You got a problem with that?”

“No, it’s just—“ you’re about to complain about never being able to focus on your work with the rest of them around, but the words die on your lips when you spot Wonwoo trailing behind Junhui with a bemused expression on his face and a cardboard tray holding bubble teas in his hands. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. “Hey guys,” you wave over to them, clearing off the table space next to you to make room for them. 

“I brought you a taro milk tea,” Junhui announces, gesturing behind him, “and a Wonwoo to boot.”

“He made me walk with him because he didn’t know your favorite drink,” Wonwoo explains quietly as he slides the drinks onto the table and takes his seat next to you. “Are you working on that international relations paper?”

“Yeah.” You take your taro milk tea. No ice, 50% sweet, tapioca pearls and grass jelly, just the way you like it. 

“Do you think you’ll be done by Friday?”

“I will be free by then,” you promise him, punctuating your statement by stabbing your boba straw through the film covering the cup. You’d rather suffer through an all nighter on Sunday than miss your regular Friday night gaming sessions with Wonwoo, a tradition the two of you have kept up since both of you were in middle school and still playing Starcraft.

“Anyway,” Junhui leans over the table, resting his chin on top of his interlaced fingers. “I have a funny story.”

You tear your gaze away from Wonwoo. “Hm?”

“So, you know that advice columnist for the school paper? Wonwoo submitted a question the other day. Well, Soonyoung and I did, but for Wonwoo.”

You feel your blood run cold. It’s not that you’re ashamed of running a love advice column, but it’s more that you’re… embarrassed. And you’ve been running it in secret for so long that at this point, you can’t even fathom anyone outside of Minghao knowing. Maybe when you graduate, you’ll do an identity reveal, but you’re not quite there now.

“Can we talk about literally anything else,” Wonwoo grouses, somewhat to your relief. he glares at Junhui, but the effect is somewhat dampened when he lifts his bubble tea to his mouth and loudly slurps up some tapioca pearls.

“Yeah,” you quickly agree, not eager to have your secret identity exposed.

Junhui steamrolls on ahead, however. “So. If you’re reading the column and there’s a question from someone who has a big stupid crush, you know who it’s from.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Wonwoo? A crush?

“Junhui,” Wonwoo groans, digging his fingers into the bridge of his nose, brows furrowed in an expression of exquisite pain. 

Minghao, however, leans forward and lets his glasses slide down his nose. He laces his fingers together. “A crush? On who?”

Junhui and Minghao both turn to stare at Wonwoo, who flushes beet red. 

“Oh, hey guys!”

You feel a heavy arm around your shoulder and turn to see, to your abject horror, Mingyu, who scoots his way onto the bench to squeeze in next to you. “What are you doing here,” you hiss at your oversized interloper, but Mingyu just glances pointedly at the spot two tables down where a bunch of upperclassmen are sitting and chatting. You recognize Choi Seungcheol, the president of Mingyu’s frat, and you sigh and deflate. Fine. A promise is a promise.

You smile weakly at the other three guys sitting at your table. “Surprise,” you say flatly,” Mingyu is my boyfriend now.”

You’re momentarily distracted by a loud honking noise as Junhui narrowly avoids choking on his bubble tea and spraying the table through his nose. 

“Mingyu?!” Minghao sounds simultaneously dismayed and slightly judgemental.

“C’mon, dude,” Mingyu whines, slumping like a kicked puppy. You pat his bicep soothingly. “You don’t have to make it sound that bad.”

Minghao and Junhui share a conspicuous glance. Mingyu isn’t the type of guy you’d usually go for, but you think this reaction is a bit uncalled for. “He’s not that bad,” you find yourself defending your fake boyfriend. “Mingyu is nice, and he’s really tall.”

You blink. Mingyu turns his pout on you now. “Nice and really tall? Are you for real?”

“It’s true,” you scowl at him. “Are you here to study, or did you just come by to get on my nerves?”

“Okay, well,” Junhui interjects sharply, “Wonwoo and I should get going.”

“Wait, but you two just got here,” you attempt to protest, but Wonwoo, who had been quiet this whole time, stands up and slings his backpack over his shoulder.

“I’ll see you later, Y/N,” he says to you, before leaving along with Junhui. 

(It’s not until later, when you’re lounging with Minghao in the living room of your shared apartment, that it hits you, again, but this time with its full weight.

“Wonwoo likes someone,” you say out loud. It’s not a question.

Minghao glances up form his book at you with a frown plastered across his face, his brows creased with irritation. He evaluates you carefully over the silver rims of his glasses, which you know aren’t prescription but are mainly there to make him look elegant and intellectual.

“...yes,” he finally acknowledges.

You frown despite yourself. “I wonder who it is.”

“What does it matter to you,” Minghao scoffs, “you’re dating Mingyu, remember?”

“You can pretend to hate Gyu, but I know you like him better than any of the rest of us.” You really hadn’t been expecting to defend Mingyu twice in a day, but you suppose that’s life as Kim Mingyu’s girlfriend. “And anyways, Wonwoo and I have been friends since we were kids. I can’t believe he didn’t tell me earlier.”

“Yeah, he probably can’t believe it either,” Minghao mutters under his breath so quietly, you almost miss it. Then, in a louder voice, he chides, “don’t think too much about it, yeah? You still have to reply professionally to his advice request. His anonymous advice request.”

“Right,” you sigh dejectedly, frowning at your laptop balanced across your knees. “How do I tell him that he’s not a nerd and a loser without giving away that I know who he is?”

Minghao shrugs. “Maybe tell him to be patient. Or maybe tell him to try to start getting over his crush.”

You consider his suggestion for a moment. It’s appealing, but then the thought of Wonwoo wasting away in his dark bedroom, sighing as he pines over his unrequited love, flashes across your mind. “I just don’t want him to be sad.”)

.

.

.

“C’mon, he was right on top of you,” Wonwoo complains. You can hear the creaking of his gaming chair in the background, undoubtedly as he rises from his reclined position to gulp down more of whatever energy drink he has in his mini fridge this week. You groan and dig your fingers into the junction between your neck and shoulder, trying with little success to work out the knot that’s developed over this last round of PUBG.

“Wonwoo, that’s the problem, I suck at close range,” you huff in response, “you know I get panicky and forget to turn off auto-fire.”

It’s game night, and you and Wonwoo have been at it for the past two hours. Your paper isn’t done yet, but it can wait. It’s been over a decade since the years when the two of you would spend your summers together playing video games and walking aimlessly around the neighborhood with half-melted popsicles, talking for hours. But even as your social circles diverted from his, it’s always been something of an unspoken agreement that for this, you’d always make time for Wonwoo, and he’d always make time for you.

“Another round?” You and Wonwoo both ask the question at the same time. There’s a pause, and then you’re both laughing. Even over the headset mic, Wonwoo’s laugh is loud and unrestrained. It feels like a secret, a side of Wonwoo that he saves just for you and for Friday nights spent on opposite sides of the monitor.

“So.” You’re still waiting for the next match to start when Wonwoo breaks the comfortable silence. “Mingyu?”

You fidget at the ties of your hoodie. It’s stolen from Wonwoo, and you’ve had it since middle school at least. “Yeah?”

“Interesting choice.”

“What does that mean?”

He makes a casual, noncommittal noise. “I’m just surprised. I didn’t see it coming, and you didn’t tell me about it.”

You open your mouth to tell him that it’s actually all a ruse, to explain the whole situation, but the hard, petulant edge to his voice makes you pause. Wonwoo sounds… upset. But not quite upset. Jealous?

“Wonwoo,” you laugh. Onscreen, the timer counting down to the start of the match appears, and you jam on the space bar to make your character jump over his character’s prone body. “Wonwoo, are you jealous?”

Over your headphones, you hear the sound of his gaming chair squeaking. “I’m not jealous,” he says, in a tone of voice that sounds exactly like Wonwoo when he’s jealous. 

“You are. Where are we landing?” You toggle to the map in the game and zoom in on the path that the plane is taking. The player count in the bottom starts dropping as other players jump out. 

“Blue marker, does that look good to you? There’s a few houses we can loot, and it’s not close to the flight path. If we get bad circle placement, you can shoot me in the foot, if you want. As a treat.”

“Yeah, fine. Lead the way, boss. Anyways, why are you jealous?” You suppress the flutter in your chest. There’s no reason for you to get your hopes up. 

“You’re my friend,” Wonwoo says simply. It feels like a heavy towel being thrown over you. “You used to tell me everything. Mingyu is… fine,” he admits reluctantly. “He’s a good guy. I’m happy for you.”

Your heart clenches. You want to say something soft and sincere, but instead, you return with a jab. “You can’t be upset at me for keeping secrets, Wonwoo. What was Junhui saying about you liking someone?”

“Junhui just says stuff sometimes,” he replies curtly. 

You frown. “Junhui isn’t a liar, though. Who is it?” You ask, despite everything in you telling yourself that you don’t want to know the answer. “Who are they? Maybe I can talk to them for you.”

He laughs humorlessly. “It doesn’t matter. She’s in a relationship with someone else.”

You almost sigh in relief, but you stop yourself just in time. Why are you relieved? “Oh, Wonwoo. That sucks. She doesn’t know what she’s missing out on.”

Wonwoo makes a noise that tells you he’s shrugging. “She deserves better than me.”

“Hey!” You sit up, straightening your spine in indignation. “Don’t say that. You’re great, Wonwoo. You’re criminally underappreciated. You’re smart and you’re so sincere and kind, and maybe other people don’t acknowledge it, but you’re really funny and interesting.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and the only thing you hear is the game audio as your character collects supplies and clears the building the two of you are in. “Let me know if you find any gun that’s not a pistol, by the way. I have a 2x scope on me.”

“Thank you,” Wonwoo replies. You know he’s not talking about the scope.

Even though the two of you are gaming individually in your own rooms, you want nothing more than to tug off your headphones and go down the two flights of stairs to Wonwoo’s apartment and give him a hug.

“I have an AKM and a bunch of healing items on me,” Wonwoo says, “come to me and you can have whatever you want.”

.

.

.

It would have been much less embarrassing if you had realized it last week when you were walking to class and Wonwoo had stopped you in the middle of the sidewalk to pluck a fallen leaf from your hair with that stupidly fond expression plastered on his face; or maybe when you accidentally fell asleep in his bed during an afternoon study session and woke up later with your head on his shoulder, legs tangled together, the sound of his soft snoring puffing in your ear, his hand held loosely in yours. Maybe in another life, it would have been one of those soft, romantic moments, like something out of a coming of age anime. But no, because you’re you and your life is the way it is, the moment you realize you’re in love with Wonwoo goes like this:

It’s Sunday, noon already, and you’re in Wonwoo’s shared apartment. Junhui had let you in earlier when you had knocked at their door until your knuckles were sore. When you burst unceremoniously into Wonwoo’s bedroom, he’s still asleep with his glasses on, smudged and crooked, and his phone on his chest. You frown. “Wake up, Wonwoo. Did you fall asleep while watching dramas again?”

Wonwoo jumps slightly and lifts his head, brows furrowing. “Huh?”

“You said you’d go to lunch with me.” You extend your arms and spin to show off your cute, perfectly coordinated outfit, picked out specifically to match the instagram trap you’re going to. You even broke out the eyeliner and glitter eyeshadow to match the cute knit cardigan and wool miniskirt you put on. “What hat should I wear? The fuzzy bucket hat,” you hold up option one, “or the beret,” you hold up option two, looking down at Wonwoo expectantly.

Your best friend groans and collapses back onto the bed, eyes sliding shut. “Um. The beret.”

“Okay great, now get out of bed. Our reservation is soon and you still need to wash your face and get dressed.” You poke at his cheek, which is greasy from sleep and still bears the imprint of his pillow. 

“Can you get Minghao to go with you instead?” He doesn’t bother opening his eyes.

“Nope,” you respond, popping the ‘p’, “he has dance practice.”

“Mingyu?”

“He said he had a textile arts club meeting?” You frown. “I’m not sure what it is, but he’s been crocheting like crazy for it this week.”

“Um,” Wonwoo smacks his hand over his face, clearly trying to think of other options. He forgets, however, that he fell asleep with his glasses on, and ends up jamming the frames against this cheek. “Ow. Ok, what about, uh, Seokmin?”

You pout at him even though he can’t see it. “Wonu,” you whine, sitting down on his bed, “I want to go to lunch with you, though.”

At that, he finally cracks his eyes open. “Why?”

Because, you want to say, I don’t want to do this with anybody other than you. You briefly try to imagine doing this whole thing– dressing up, making a reservation, taking pictures and walking around town, huddling together in a cafe in the afternoon to watch the latest Nintendo Direct together– with anybody else, but you just quite settle on it comfortably. No. It has to be Wonwoo. Because Wonwoo is your best friend, because Wonwoo has always been there for you, because Wonwoo just gets you, better than anybody ever has, and every moment you spend with Wonwoo, you feel your mood lifting and relaxing. Because you trust Wonwoo and he trusts you, and because you know him, and you love him–

You love him.

Oh.

Oh.

You’ll have to process that later. “Because you have a car and you can drive me,” you tell Wonwoo instead, shoving the revelation down to the back of your mind and putting it in a box labeled problems for future me.

“Fine,” Wonwoo acquiesces, sitting up with enormous effort. His hair is still sticking up in all directions, making him look like a big dark dandelion. A part of you expects to see him in a different light, now that you think you love him, like there’s supposed to be cherubs singing and starlight in his eyes or something, but instead, you just see regular old Wonwoo. Your best friend. He doesn’t suddenly look like a vision sent from heaven, he just looks sleepy and crusty and a little greasy.

“Hurry up and brush your teeth,” you tell him, slapping him lightly on his belly and laughing at the resulting ouuff that jerks out of him, “you have morning breath and I can smell it from here.”

.

.

.

From: kwon.soonyoung@svt.edu To: ask_cherry_svt@gmail.com Re: advice

Dear Cherry, my friend is in love with his childhood friend but she doesn’t love him back :( how do we make her fall in love with him? from anonymous

“Hm,” you sigh out loud, “I wonder if Soonyoung knows that the anonymous signoff is made moot by the fact that he emailed this one in instead of using the anonymous submission box.” You’re draped on the couch with your legs propped all the way up and your laptop on your chest as you scroll through this week’s Am I The Asshole Wednesday submissions.

“You can ignore him,” Minghao says, passing by with a full bottle of wine in each hand on his way to put them away in the kitchen. “I don’t think you should be giving any love advice when your own love life is a mess,” he sniffs. 

“You’re the asshole,” you announce, not looking up from your screen. “That was for you, Minghao.” Clearly, he’s still mad at you after you had revealed the whole Mingyu situation to him a few nights ago. You still remember the blistering look that Minghao had thrown at you, like you’re the dumbest human he’s ever had the supreme displeasure of knowing.

“I guess you don’t want to go to the dance team party with me, then,” your roommate responds smoothly, returning from the kitchen. It’s only 6pm, but Minghao is already dressed in a silk pajama set with a matching robe, lenseless glasses frames perched on the tip of his nose, smelling of strawberry-scented lotion as he pours himself a glass of wine.

You scowl at him.  “Fine. I don’t care.” Turning back to your laptop, you scroll past a few more boring submissions on your hunt for the truly salacious stuff your classmates get up to. “I wonder what Soonyoung is even talking about, though,” you mumble, half to yourself, as you click on the next interesting subject line.

.

.

.

In retrospect, Mingyu was definitely going to win that Greek God competition, even if Jaehyun from Nu Kapp put up a good fight.

Mingyu’s physique is certainly impressive, and the audience erupted when he won the (shirtless and oiled-up, for some reason) pushup contest, but his clumsiness eventually led him to lose at every other physical challenge. It was his overwhelming victory in the popularity vote and personality contest that got him to first place. It’s probably all because of his unwavering friendliness and his constant need for affirmation manifesting into an overwhelming desire to be helpful, but you like to think that maybe you helped too.

That’s why you’re here, in the kitchen of the Sigma house, absolutely wasted at the celebration party the frat is throwing in honor of Mingyu being crowned the best frat star on campus. Between the blunt that you, Mingyu, Minghao, and Seokmin, another friend in your year, had passed around upstairs, and all the shots that Mingyu had plied you with, you’re feeling weirdly bouncy and giggly and not entirely sure if you’ll remember this the next morning.

“Okay, so,” Mingyu mumbles, pulling you closer as the two of you nestle in a corner, away from whatever is going on at the beer pong table, “we should stage a breakup, right?”

You giggle against the hollow of his throat, arms looped over his shoulders. “Can we make it your fault?”

He whines like a kicked puppy. “Why can’t we make it mutual? Jeonghan would kick my ass.”

“Fine, fine,” you huff, not at all reluctant. “We should give it some time so it’s not suspicious, right?”

“Yeah.” Mingyu nods, accidentally knocking his chin against your forehead. “You’re so smart.”

“Which means I’m still on girlfriend duty tonight,” you conclude.

“Oh, come on.” Mingyu’s hands come down to rest at your waist, his fingertips skimming along the waistband of your skirt, eliciting a shiver from you when you feel his rough, warm skin against yours. “You make it sound like a chore.”

You sigh. Oh well, you could do much worse than Mingyu.

You’re not sure if it’s the weed or the alcohol, or maybe just jealousy at this fake version of yourself that’s happy with a boyfriend and not moping over an unrequited crush on your childhood best friend, but you find it strangely easy to lean up and attach your lips to Mingyu’s, feel the wet heat of his tongue in your mouth. and Mingyu, pliant under your grip as always, kisses you back, going along with it without a second thought.

“No offense,” he pants as he parts from you, “but I don’t think I want to hook up with you.”

You blink at him. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, no,” he clarifies quickly, “you’re a good kisser, I just don’t want things to be weird between us, which I think might happen if we hook up.”

“If fake dating didn’t make things weird, I’m not sure that hooking up would,” you laugh, more of a giggle than anything. You attach your lips to his jaw, pulling him down towards you so you don’t have to crane your neck. 

“And also,” he nudges at the hair behind your ear with his nose, “you’re like, totally wasted right now.”

“You’re not sober either,” you shoot back, accusatory.

“More sober than you,” he shoots back. He’s right, though. His large stature means that he can hold his liquor much better than you. “It wouldn’t be fair,” he pouts, stubborn, “and I’m not a creep.”

“Fine.” You tug lightly at the short hairs on the back of his head. 

“Are… are you okay?”

Mingyu’s question makes you hesitate for a moment. You lean your flushed cheek against the jut of his collarbone. “I’m drunk,” you respond flatly.

“No, not that, you’re just usually not this…” you feel Mingyu gulp, “clingy.”

You wonder if you should tell him about Wonwoo and your stupid pointless crush that’s starting to feel less like a crush every time you’re with him and more like… something deeper. Something frightening, like a yawning chasm, just waiting for you to fall in.

You’re saved the effort of further deliberation, however, when Mingyu suddenly raises his head and interrupts your thoughts. “Hey, isn’t that Wonwoo?”

You lift yourself off of Mingyu’s chest and look behind you. True to his word, it really is Wonwoo, standing by the door, jacket on, looking at you like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“Huh, he doesn’t usually come to these,” Mingyu observes, tugging idly at the bottom of your shirt. “I wonder why he’s here.”

You think you know why he’s here, though. Earlier, back upstairs, you had excused yourself to the bathroom to take a quick breather. Through an alcohol and weed induced haze, you had belatedly realized that it’s Friday night, and you’re late.

you: cn you come pick me u you: at sigma wonu: are you ok? i’ll be there in a few you: sry im drunk you: wanna go home w u

Now, staring Wonwoo dead in the eyes, you realize with a jolt that you had never told him why you asked him to pick you up. You peel yourself off your fake boyfriend and stumble, clumsily, towards Wonwoo, trying your best to ignore the way the room spins around you.

“Wonu,” you whine reaching out to him.

He frowns. “Are you okay? What’s happening?”

“I’m drunk,” you tell him.

“I know.” He extends his arm and lets you cling on to him as you stumble into his torso.

“And it’s Friday night,” you look up at him.

“Yes.”

“We’re supposed to be playing Overwatch together.” You give him the best puppy eyes you can muster, and he blinks at you, looking flustered.

“Huh?”

“Overwatch,” you insist, tugging him towards the door. “Friday night. It’s Wonwoo and Y/N night.”

“Is… is this what you called me over here for?”

You nod and begin dragging Wonwoo out by the wrist. 

The cool air outside hits your flushed skin like a wave, like you’re jumping into a pool. Wonwoo is silent and lets you continue to cling onto him as he walks you to where he had parked on the side of the street, directly under a streetlight.

You slide into the passenger seat. Wonwoo hands you a bottle of water, cap already removed for you. “Hydrate,” he orders. 

“Sorry,” you whimper, somewhat pathetically.

He frowns. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I must be so annoying,” you mumble, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.

“No,” Wonwoo reaches out and takes your hand over the center console. “You’re not annoying.”

You watch him as he drives. He’s so handsome, your alcohol-addled mind supplies. 

“You don’t think I’m annoying?”

“Never.”

Wonwoo says it like a promise.

Silence falls over the two of you as he drives through campus, all the way back to the student housing unit that both of you live in. He turns off the engine, leaving a silence that feels even more all-encompassing. He looks over at you, face half hidden in the shadows and half illuminated by the orange lamplight outside. “Is Minghao home?”

“N…no, he’s back at the party.”

“Okay, we’re going back to my apartment, then,” he decides.

You blink. “Huh?” But you’re already stumbling out of his car and spilling onto the sidewalk, all wobbly legs and loose limbs. 

“I’m taking you back to my place,” Wonwoo repeats. “You need someone to watch you and make sure you don’t wander off and get lost in the city,” he explains drily.

“‘M okay,” you whine futilely. It’s especially unconvincing, since you’re still stumbling over your own feet and leaning against him. 

Wonwoo lets you rest your cheek on his shoulder and cling onto him as he lets you into his apartment, gets you a glass of water, and digs up a pack of makeup wipes from out of nowhere and sits you on his bed and starts to get to work. 

A small (very drunk) part of you bristles at the appearance of the makeup wipes, and you try to scowl, even as Wonwoo gently wipes at your smudged eyeliner. “Whose are these? Do you have a lot of girls over here or something?”

“They’re Junhui���s, he uses them,” Wonwoo explains. He dabs at one last spot in the corner of your right eye, then announces, “there, you’re all done.”

You open your eyes to see Wonwoo grinning dopily at you. “You’re cute,” you poke at his cheek, and he laughs quietly. Seokmin used to be afraid of him, he had confessed to you, and you wonder why, because the Wonwoo you know is so soft, so loveable, so goofy and cute. 

The Wonwoo you know is shy and awkward and doesn’t quite know how to fit himself into social situations. He’s clumsy and absentminded and needs someone to take care of him, to dote on him and give him attention.

The Wonwoo that you know, you’ve known since you were in second grade, standing over the boy you had knocked over with a rubber kickball, staring at him as he sniffled on the woodchips and glared at you through big watery eyes. That day, you decided right then and there that this boy would be yours, and now…

“Wonwoo,” you blurt out without thinking, “I’m in love with you.”

His breath catches. Wonwoo pauses, digesting your clumsily delivered confession, and then he makes the most awful expression you have ever seen on him.

It’s raw hurt, sharp, painful. His mouth twists and his brows furrow and he looks at you like you’re something to be afraid of. You hate it. You hate that you’re the cause of it, that he’s feeling this, whatever it is, because of you, even though you’re not sure why.

“Really,” you insist. You reach out to grab his hand, but he pulls away from you. “It’s true. I’m in love with you.”

You hear a sharp intake of breath. “You’re not,” he says. “You’re in love with Mingyu. You’re happy with him.”

“I’m not… I’m not in love with him,” you try to explain, but your liquor-numbed lips are clumsy and you trip over your words. You lean towards him, slanting your face up, because you want to kiss him so badly it’s all you can think of. Wonwoo shoves you back, hard. 

“Don’t,” he bites, voice sharp and tense.

“I’m in love with you,” you repeat, reaching out to him, but he pushes your hand back and steps away. Like he’s afraid of you.

“Don’t do it. You’re drunk.” His voice wavers slightly. “Don’t do something you’ll regret tomorrow.”

You shake your head, but Wonwoo looks at you with so much hurt and confusion in his eyes, you can’t bring yourself to argue. “Wonu,” you whisper, reaching out to rest your fingertips on his wrist, “please don’t cry.”

He takes a long, shuddering breath, eyes closed, and then when he exhales and opens his eyes again, his expression is impassive. Unreadable.

“Go to sleep,” he says flatly. “Tomorrow you’ll wake up and go back to your boyfriend, and you’ll be happy that nothing happened tonight.”

He closes the door to his bedroom, leaving you in the darkness.

(Wonwoo is cold.

He’s always a little cold, but in his haste to escape earlier, he hadn’t gotten a blanket or even changed into sweats before closing the door behind him, and now Wonwoo lays on the couch, his feet hanging over the armrest, staring at the ceiling. 

I’m in love with you, your voice rings in his head. Wonwoo’s cheek still burns where you had gently rested your hand earlier. If he hadn’t known any better, Wonwoo might have believed you and given in to his most guilty, far-off fantasy, the one where you love him back.

But Wonwoo does know better. He saw the way you were draped all over Mingyu at the party, the way you giggled into his neck when Mingyu slipped his fingertips under the him of your shirt. Mingyu is good for you, Wonwoo decides. Like you, Mingyu is bright and out-going, popular, well-liked, good at receiving love and gives it readily in return. 

Wonwoo closes his eyes, tries to push away the memory of your body curled into his, and wills his mind into silence so that maybe he can get some sleep tonight.)

You wake up, nauseous and hung over and feeling not at all rested, in Wonwoo’s bed.

Groaning, you swipe at your face, expecting to see a gloopy mess on your fingers, but your makeup has already been removed. You squint at the dim sunlight streaming in through the closed blinds, and you reach around blindly until your fingers close around your phone. 

There’s a smattering of random social media notifications and updates from group chats, but one notification in particular catches your eye.

wonu: i’m outside wonu: where are you? are you ok? wonu: i’m gonna head inside to look for you

You feel your cheeks flush as the memories come trickling back– your drunk texts, insisting that your best friend picks you up, kissing Mingyu, leaving the party with Wonwoo, clinging on to him like a koala…

Gathering your courage and steeling your woozy stomach, you stumble out of bed and throw open the door, poking your head out. Wonwoo is sprawled across the couch, undoubtedly playing some kind of mobile game, when he looks up at you. His hair is sticking up in every possible direction and his shirt is crumpled. “Hi,” he says, expression impossibly neutral.

“Hi,” you grin, waving lamely. “I feel like shit. I didn’t say anything weird or embarrassing last night, did I?”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “You don’t remember?”

You shake your head. “I remember you picking me up from the frat, I think.”

For a split second, he looks relieved. Then, he puts his phone down and laughs at you. “You didn’t do anything embarrassing,” he grins, “except for abandoning your boyfriend at the party because you wanted to play Overwatch with me. C’mon, do you want to get brunch?”

You press your palms against your throbbing forehead. Your brain hurts, and you’re almost sure you half-remember telling Wonwoo that you’re in love with him, but Wonwoo is looking at you expectantly and you’d like nothing more than some french toast and a hot coffee right now, so you shrug. “Sure, lemme wash up and get changed in my apartment first.”

.

.

.

“Dear Cherry, my friend is hopelessly in love with his childhood best friend, who is currently dating a hot frat dude. Should he just give up? The moping is starting to bum me out and I’m worried my hair is going to fall out. Love, Wen Junhui.”

You wrinkle your nose at the message. “And has anybody ever told Junhui that the whole point of anonymous submissions is defeated when he signs his messages with his full name?”

Minghao looks up from the canvas he’s busy splattering paint on. It’s his semester final project, and you had promised to accompany him in the basement of the fine arts building as he works.

Instead of answering, he looks at you like you’re the densest human he’s ever had the misfortune of meeting. “Maybe he’s not trying to be anonymous. Maybe he’s trying to complain about someone we know.”

You squint at your laptop screen. “Who is this supposed to be about, anyways?”

This time, Minghao actually rolls his eyes at you. “Whatever. Have you broken up with Mingyu yet?”

“Yeah, we broke up two days ago. It was mutual, because Mingyu was genuinely afraid that Jeonghan would kick his ass if we said we broke up with me.”

The two of you had made a whole show of deleting all your carefully staged couple photos off your social media accounts, and then unfollowing and refollowing each other within the span of two days, because as the story goes, you and Mingyu had talked it over and are better as friends than as a couple.

“That’s nice,” Minghao says. He unscrews a jar of turpentine and starts to clean off his brushes. “Maybe you should respond to Junhui’s advice submission.”

You groan. “I’ll just tell him to tell his friend to get over it,” you scowl.

“By the way, what’s wrong with Wonwoo?”

“What do you mean?” You look up. Minghao is now attacking the canvas with a palette knife, carving some dramatic impasto into the paint.

“The last two times all of us hung out together, he’s been all…weird.” Minghao wrinkles his nose. “It’s like he’s some kind of guilty dog. He stares at you when you’re not looking, and then he looks away when you are.”

You chew on your lip, work now long forgotten on your idle laptop. Minghao is right. Wonwoo has been different, but not… different. He’s as unwaveringly weird as always, and he’s been texting you links to youtube cat videos and starting arguments on video game theories as always, but it feels like Wonwoo has been aggressively normal. Like how best friends are supposed to be. Light and easy.

“I don’t know. I feel like he’s been acting weird these days too, but I can’t figure out how.”

“You should talk to him,” Minghao says, like talking to Wonwoo about his feelings is easy or something. Or like talking about your own feelings is easy.  

“Or maybe I shouldn’t,” you sigh. Whatever is going on with Wonwoo, you’re just glad he still wants to hang out with you. You’re not entirely sure what you even did wrong, but you’d be willing to beg on your hands and knees for him to forgive you and to stick by your side. “Whatever. We’re gaming together this Friday, I’ll think about it then, I guess.”

.

.

.

“Wonu, I’m scared,” you whine into the mic. It’s another Friday night and the two of you are playing PUBG again. You’re in the endgame now– the original 100 has been whittled down to just 5 players remaining, including you but not including Wonwoo, who had been killed earlier and is now spectating you in-game like some sort of ghost. 

“Just sit tight,” he instructs. In your mind’s eye, he’s leaning back in his gaming chair, arms crossed as he observes your gameplay. 

“There’s gunshots,” you complain, “North? I think they’re hiding by those rocks. It sounds like they’ve got a good sniper rifle, too.”

“They don’t know you’re there. Just let the other teams fight it out. You have enough ammo?”

You huff. “I have like, twelve shotgun shells.”

“And you have the location advantage. Just sit and wait for now.”

You sigh, aimlessly panning the camera back and forth in your anxiety. “Fine,” you agree, because despite it all, Wonwoo is still better at this game than you are, and because you trust him. 

Seconds pass. The audio of distant gunfire in crisp surround sound keeps you on edge and tense, so that when you hear Soonyoung, one of Wonwoo’s roommates, you nearly jump out of your skin. 

“Hey, are you busy?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo replies. His voice is tinny and quiet, but still clear, like he’s slipped his headset off and mic is pushed away. “I’m gaming with Y/N. I’m muted, don’t worry.”

You’re about to shout and let him know that he’s not actually muted, but your curiosity gets the better of you when you hear Soonyoung’s next words:

“Right, speaking of Y/N, that reminds me. Did you hear that Y/N and Mingyu broke up?”

“Oh.” There’s a pause, and then you hear Wonwoo ask, “why?”

“Dunno. Mingyu wouldn’t give me any details. He said something lame, like that they’re better off as friends, or something.”

“Oh. When did this happen?”

“I think on Wednesday? At least that’s what Seungkwan told me.”

“Hm.”

“Anyways, isn’t that great? You can finally shoot your shot!”

“Are you insane, Soonyoung? It’s been less than a week!”

“Well, okay, fair. But next week? She didn’t seem too sad about it in class today.”

“That’s because she was in class. And anyways, this doesn’t change anything between us, so I’m not going to do anything either.”

“Are you kidding me? So you’re just going to keep it a secret forever?”

“Yeah. I’ll die before I tell Y/N that I’m in love with her.”

Oh.

You sit at your desk, staring at your monitor but not seeing anything. Very quietly, you press your fingers against your lips, as hard as you can, and feel the blood rushing past your ears. 

“I’m not going to ruin our friendship over nothing,” Wonwoo continues.

“It’s not nothing,” Soonyoung replies with a pout in his voice. “You’ve been in love with her for years. Since high school, at least.”

“She just sees me as a friend, that’s all,” Wonwoo sighs. 

Since high school. He’s loved you since high school.

You remember the way he looked at you after prom when he was dropping you back off at home. You had gone with him because the boy you wanted to ask you, some boring soccer player, had asked your friend instead, and Jaehyun had already asked (and been rejected by you) twice, and nobody else had asked you to be their prom date. And Wonwoo, awkward and quiet as he was, had fully expected to skip prom completely, but three days before you had shown up at his locker after school, desperate because you already had a dress and a group to go with and tickets but no date, practically begging him to go to prom with you. And without even thinking, Wonwoo had agreed.

That night, when he drive you home, you leaned your head against the car door with the windows rolled down and felt the wind on your face. At the end, when he parked his car on the side of the street in front of your childhood home, you looked over at him and told him. “I’m so glad we’re going to college together, Wonwoo. I want to be with you forever.”

And he had watched you as you said it, quiet, like he was breathless. Like you had said something terrible and incredible at the same time. 

It’s always been Wonwoo beside you, lazy summers spent playing video games, late night phone calls where you’d talk and he’d listen, after class in his car listening to the radio and eating junk food. Had he loved you then? With ketchup on your shirt and acne across your face and poorly box-dyed hair? And had you loved him then too? Before you even knew what love is?

The weight of it is heavy, settling in your stomach like a hot stone. It almost hurts, how much you feel.

You’re interrupted by a very loud spate of gunfire piercing your eardrums and making you jump,  shrieking loudly as you’re killed in-game. Onscreen, your bloodied character rolls limply down the hill as “Better luck next time! #2/48” flashes on top of your game stats.

“Aw, second place, so close,” you hear Wonwoo say. Then he pauses. “Wait. Was I not muted just now?”

“Wonwoo, I’m going downstairs,” you tell him.

“Wait–” his voice is tight and panicked, but you’re already tugging your headset off and grabbing your keys.

You nearly avoid tripping over your feet as you run to the stairwell at the end of the hall and fly down the two flights of stairs, to where Wonwoo is. By the time you’re banging at their door, you’re out of breath and flushed. You’re not sure if the pounding of your heart is from the exertion or if it’s from something else. Anxiety, maybe. Fear. Exhilaration.

Wonwoo answers the door. He looks exactly like you’d expect, with his rumpled tee shirt and sweatpants and bare feet, his glasses on and his bangs pushed back with the bunny shower headband you bought for him last year.

“Hi,” you grin breathlessly at him.

“Hi,” he replies.

“Can I come in?”

He takes a deep breath, like he’s steeling his nerves. “Yeah.” He opens the door wider and steps aside to let you in, and you follow Wonwoo to his room.

It’s dimly lit with the rainbow glow of his gaming setup and the ready screen for PUBG still up on one of his monitors. Wonwoo flicks on the overhead light, which throws the room into sharp relief. The sudden brightness makes everything feel more real, somehow. 

You sit on the edge of Wonwoo’s bed and pat the spot net to you, which he takes. “Wonwoo,” you say.

Wonwoo purses his lips. “How much of that did you hear earlier?”

“All of it,” you chew the inside of your cheek, drumming your fingers against the bedspread. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “You can pretend I didn’t say any of that.”

“Did you mean it?”

“Huh?” He stares at you with wide eyes.

“What you said earlier.” You pick at a loose thread poking from the hem of your shirt. “Did you mean it when you said you’re in love with me?”

He hesitates, frowning as a conflicted expression briefly flashes across his face, eyebrows drawing together. 

“Wonwoo?” You call his name gently to get his attention. “I’m in love with you too, Wonwoo.”

“I–what?” Wonwoo looks at you like you’ve brown another head. “But, you...  Mingyu?”

You furrow your brows at him. “Mingyu? Didn’t I tell you? We were just faking so he could win that Greek God competition and get free parking next semester.”

“Wait,” he sputters, “so all of that was fake? You were just pretending to be in a relationship?”

“Yeah. I don’t care about Mingyu, I have feelings for you, Wonwoo.”

“You.” Wonwoo takes a deep breath. “You didn’t tell me.”

“I did!” You widen your eyes, adamant. “At karaoke back in October. You, me, Minghao, and Junhui?” It had been after a particularly grueling set of midterms, and the four of you had gone out for some korean barbeque, followed by boba and an extended noraebang session. While Junhui was crooning to an old Cantonese ballad, you were squished on a couch with Minghao and Wonwoo, and the three of you were talking idly about Junhui’s most recent date.

It’s funny, you remember turning and mumbling to Wonwoo, did I ever tell you that Mingyu and I are faking our whole relationship for clout? But Wonwoo hadn’t responded, so you assumed that he didn’t care. Now, it’s looking more like he didn’t even hear you.

“I was asleep,” Wonwoo states in flat disbelief.

“You were asleep,” you repeat slowly.

“It was dark and I was tired. You didn’t notice that I passed out as soon as we dimmed the lights?” He raises his eyebrows as he defends himself, and you bury your face in your hands.

Click. The pieces are all falling in place.

“Wonwoo. I’m so dumb,” you moan. “I run the Ask Cherry column. All those messages from Junhui and Soonyoung. They were about you, weren’t they?”

“Messages? There were more after the first one?!”

“And they were about you being in love with me,” you recall. “This whole time, I thought you liked someone else. Someone who isn’t me.”

There’s a pause. You can hear the sound of Wonwoo’s PC whirring in the background. And then, Wonwoo starts laughing, choked and quiet at first, and then loud, incredulous, almost.

“God,” he gasps between laughs, “we’re both so, so stupid.” And then you’re laughing too.

In retrospect, it’s all ridiculous, this entire situation. You collapse back onto Wonwoo’s bed and laugh until your ribs hurt, and when you turn your head to the side, there’s Wonwoo laying beside you, glasses askew, grinning.

You giggle and reach out to straighten his glasses. “Hi,” you say to him.

“Hi,” he says back, getting up to lean on one elbow. “I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

You feel your smile widen so much, your cheeks hurt. “I’m in love with you, Jeon Wonwoo.”

He looks at you with so much fondness, it takes your breath away. It’s the way he’s always looked at you, you realize, since the two of you weren’t much more than a pair of kids.

“So, now what?”

“Hmm.” You pretend to think. “Can you kiss me about it, then?”

Wonwoo nods, and his hair flops over the bunny headband as he moves his head. “Yeah,” he says, “I think I can do that.”

.

.

.

(Afterwards, a lot less changes with your relationship with Wonwoo than you thought. After all, he was your best friend for much, much longer than he’s been your boyfriend. He still sends you cat videos at strange hours of the night, and he still sticks sullenly by your side during social outings. Friday nights are still game nights, of course, but now it’s mostly spent on your shared Stardew Valley co-op or cuddling in bed while playing Pokemon together. 

But one thing that changes is the kisses. You kiss Wonwoo whenever you can, because you have so much love to give him and not enough time in the day to tell him all the ways you love him. You try, though, to tell him every moment you can that he’s the cutest, smartest, sweetest, kindest, funniest boy in the world, and that he’s the best friend and boyfriend you could ever ask for.

Wonwoo has a harder time with his feelings, but you know, even without saying. It’s in the way that his fingers linger over your hand when he drops you off in front of your classroom, and the way he gives you first pick on all the best loot when you’re gaming together. And when it’s really late at night and the two of you are huddled under the blankets together, listening to the way your heartbeats collide, he whispers it too. “I love you.”

And, Minghao finally admits it. “Fine,” he grumbles reluctantly while the two of you are preparing the upcoming edition of Ask Cherry, “maybe you’re qualified to give love advice after all.”)

[zombii-ships]

hiya!

I hope I’m not a bother or anything, but could you do some headcannons with Jack/Joseph/Bo and maybe Shaun, and how they’d be like if MC was a tomboy?

Hello friend!! Never a bother :3c

Jack

Jack wholeass is NOT thinking about anything besides the fact that its you. You could be the girliest person, or stone masc and Jack- the eternal lovesick optimist that he is- is gonna find things he loves about it. He’s obsessed with tomboy MC, loves watching them do their hobbies, and finding out more about them. He wants to support you, number one, so he tries to make MC comfortable and also feel beautiful (or handsome if they prefer!). Catch him bringing you flannels and cool shit all the time.

Joseph

Joseph is hype as SHIT. He’s usually trying to be a bit softer/ more palatable so people accept him, but with Tomboy MC i feel like it’d be easier for him to open up to them and be comfortable. Plus he’s a lil more rugged, if MC tossed him the right wrench while he’s under his bike he’s ready to make out two seconds later. (Also steal his clothes he’ll love seeing his stuff on you)

Bo

Bo’s your biggest cheerleader no matter what, and this is no exception. Bonus points if Tomboy MC likes lots of outdoor activities. He’s a dog! Of course he’s gonna want to get dirty and get active! Also Bo’s a little rough, he’s a strong dude, so he’s put at ease by MC’s strong personality.

Shaun

Shaun’s dramatic lil ass is an absolute ham about everything MC does, so every time Tomboy MC does something cool, expect Shaun to immediately swoon onto then like the nerd he is. He starts off calling you “one of the guys” when you’re just becoming friends, but it goes from that to “OOP I WANT EM TO PUT ME IN A HEADLOCK” really quickly. Also he’s def down to show you his more intense horror movies, if you’re down.

[hp-hcs]

Your fics are incredible! My friend wanted to know if you wrote for Pansy? If you do, a Pansy x gn reader would be amazing :D

absolutely i will write for my slytherin queen 😩🤌 and thank you so much!!

requests? 🥺🤲

paralyzer — pansy parkinson x gn! hufflepuff! reader

oh my godddd 😩🤌👑

underage alcohol consumption warning

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

‘I hold on so nervously to me and my drink/ I wish it was coolin' me/ But so far has not been good/ It's been shitty, and I feel awkward as I should/ This club has got to be the most pretentious thing/ Since I thought you and me’

“Heyyyy, Y/N! How’zit goin’?!”

“Wonderful,” you drawl. “Now go drink some water before you die of alcohol poisoning.”

Cedric clapped you on the shoulder, giggling, before wandering off after a pretty Ravenclaw.

You sigh, downing the last of your drink and pushing yourself off of the wall you’d been leaning against for the last half hour, fully intending to make your escape to your dorm.

You weave your way through the throng of people, almost taking an elbow to the face when you pass by a particularly rowdy bunch. Scowling at the group, you aren’t even paying attention when you run smack into someone.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going!” An angry voice snaps. You turn to apologize and are met with the most gorgeous girl you’ve ever seen.

She rolls her eyes, her hands on her hips, and her pretty lips pursed in annoyance. “Of course it’d be a Puff. Pick your jaw up off the floor, sweetheart.”

She gives you a condescending pat on the shoulder and waltzes off, taking your entire heart with her.

‘Well, I am imagining a dark lit place/ Or your place or my place’

“Subtle, Panz,” Draco rolls his eyes.

“Oh Merlin, oh fucking Merlin, I fucked that up, didn’t I?”

Mattheo takes a puff from his cigarette, swinging his legs from where he sits on the edge of the bathroom sink. He watches Pansy pace anxiously around the empty second floor girl’s bathroom. “Yep, pretty much.”

“‘Pick your jaw up off the floor’? What was I thinking?!”

“You weren’t,” Draco supplies helpfully, leaning against the wall. “I mean, at least you called ‘em sweetheart. That’s gotta do something.”

Pansy groans and face palms. “Thanks a lot. Now how do I fix this?”

“Why are you asking us? This is your Puff-Stuff, not ours,” Mattheo says flippantly, tapping the ash off the end of his cigarette.

“They don’t even know I exist!” Pansy whines.

“Well, they do now, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Oi. You better shut the fuck up.”

‘Well, I'm not paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you/ I wanna make you move because you're standin' still/ If your body matches what your eyes can do/ You'll probably move right through me on my way to you’

“Hey, Puff!”

You look up from your assignment, seeing, of all people, Pansy Parkinson leaning towards you from her desk. She smiles anxiously at you.

“Uh, hi…?” You ask slowly, quietly.

“I- uh- d-do you have a quill I could borrow?”

You hum, nodding. “Yeah, here.”

She grins widely. “Thanks.”

She takes the quill you hold out to her with utter reverence—much more respect than you would expect her to give to a five-sickle quill from a discount shop.

You nod, a bit baffled, and turn back to your work.

She waits, like she expects you to say something further. When you remain silent, she sighs, seemingly disappointed, and moves on to her assignment.

‘I hold out for one more drink, before I think/ I'm lookin' too desperately/ But so far has not been fun, I should just stay home/ If one thing really means one/ This club will hopefully be closed in three weeks/ That would be cool with me’

“I can’t believe it! I just sat there, like an utter dumbass-”

Cedric raises an eyebrow. “Here’s a wild thought: maybe she’s into you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ced,” you scoff. “She doesn’t even know I exist.”

‘Well, I'm still imagining a dark lit place/ Or your place or my place’

“We are not friends,” Draco warns. “This is just an alliance.”

“Just so they stop acting so lovesick over each other,” Cedric agreed.

‘Well, I'm not paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you/ I wanna make you move because you're standin' still/ If your body matches what your eyes can do/ You'll probably move right through me on my way to you’

“Hey, Panz,” Draco starts, interrupting his friend mid-tirade about they’re just so cute, and they loaned me a quill today in History when I couldn’t find mine. “Why don’t you just ask ‘em out?”

She stops her rant, speechless. “Are you insane?”

Draco shrugs. “Just like, send them a note, or whatever. What’s the worst that could happen? You said it yourself; they barely know you exist.”

‘Well, I'm not paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you/ I wanna make you move because you're standin' still/ If your body matches what your eyes can do/ You'll probably move right through me on my way to you’

Your eyes widen in surprise when one of the Owl Post owls drops an envelope onto the table in front of you. Plucking it up, you turn it around, finding no return address or name of any kind. Cedric leans over.

“Who’s it from?”

“Doesn’t say.”

“Well, open it!” Your friend, Hannah, exclaims. “You never get mail.”

You open the unmarked envelope, pulling out a piece of folded parchment. Scrawled on it, in Slytherin green ink, is a short poem.

I’m not paralyzed, but I seem to be struck by you. I wanna make you move, because you're standing still. If your body matches what your eyes can do, You'll probably move right through me on my way to you. - P. P.

Your eyes widen as you look at the initials, knowing immediately who it was. You look up, easily finding Pansy’s eyes from across the room. She looks startled, like she hadn’t been expecting to make such sudden eye contact.

You both blush and look away, smiling to yourselves.

‘You'll probably move right through me on my way to you’

“I’ll admit, I didn’t expect that to actually work,” Cedric murmurs under his breath to Draco.

The pair watch as you and Pansy, paired together for a Potions assignment, laugh and mess around with each other on the other side of the room.

“Yeah. How long d’you think before Y/N realizes that Pansy only writes in black ink?” Draco muses with his infamous smirk, twirling his quill around and nearly knocking over his jar of Slytherin green ink.

‘You'll probably move right through me on my way to you’

[marisol-000]

The Sandbox Scientists ch. 3

Sooooo I may have been off about how long this would take, in my defense this is only my second multi-chapter fic! My solution to this is to stop guessing when things will be done so you get ch. 4 when you get it <3

Something I realized when double checking the opening scene is that I accidentally made it very unclear which Henry is narrating XD, I’ve decided to leave it that way

Big chapter this time! I thought about splitting it up but that's lame so you get what you get <3 Happy Thanksgiving!

(a03)

Henry was over the moon.

The adults liked science!!!

The adults like science the way they liked science!!!!!

They weren't mad or grossed out at all! Like the other grown ups and kids were when he talked about it.

The “Lodgers” as they called themselves had shown him and the other him all sorts of cool stuff! Like a GIANT octopus, and a metal man with glowing eyes, the biggest telescope he’d ever seen in his life, and even mice that were invisible!

There were so many labs here that were used for all sorts of things he didn’t understand yet!

Mr. Sinnet even let them hold his flamethrower!!

Not even his mother liked when he showed her his ‘science projects’. But these guys! They let him put his hands in the dirt and pick up a plant that moved!

Other Henry touched some slime that didn’t stick if he was fast enough!

And one of the lodgers gave them candy!

Whatever this place was was the best place EVER! He hoped Momma would let them come back sometime.

Archer, their new friend, leaned next to them while they tried the big lollipops someone named Doodle gave them.

“So, what kinda science is you two’s favorite? Neuroscience? Engineering? Cryptobiology?”

No one ever asked Henry what kind of science he liked! He also didn’t know what those words meant but he couldn’t wait to find out!

“Potions! I like to make potions with stuff I find outside! Oh and monsters! When I grow up I’m gonna be a monster doctor so I can help monsters when they get sick!”

Other him jumped in at this. “Yeah! I’m gonna make potions that bring people back to life, like Frankenstein!”

Someone nearby gasped. A hushed mutter ran through the crowd at this. Lodgers who had started to drift away and chat with their neighbors were suddenly pulled back into the boys’ conversation.

Archer straightened, and had an odd spark in his eyes.

“Sooooo, you like Frankenstein then?”

They nodded, “Mm hm! He’s the coolest scientist ever! I wanna be just like him!”

The whispers grew louder, with people giggling and nudging each other.

“You don’t say? Then I bet it’d be <em>really</em> cool if I were to tell you about a certain someone who’s in town.” Archer mused.

Henry paused in trying to bite his lollipop, “Who?”

Surely they couldn’t mean…

“Oh no one special,” he said, someone snickered behind them, “It’s just that we just so <em>happen</em> to have a certain… mad scientist in our attic right now.”

The boys froze where they were. For a moment Archer got a little worried.

“FRANKENSTEIN?!?!?!??!?!??!”

Frankenstein was having a quiet day.

She’d had her fair share of that in life, living in the wilderness, distancing herself from society. Hell, even before everything she had isolated herself from the world, driven everyone away lest the small minds find out about her incredible experiments.

Which was fine, she didn't need anyone else. So what if the lodgers had barely stopped by to talk to her all day? It didn’t bother her at all! It wasn’t like she took the slightest indication that she was being ignored with anything less than the <em>utmost</em> grace and dignity.

She huffed into her book and pretended not to be eyeing the door instead of it’s pages. Glaring as though hating it personally. As if her lovelies were just on the other side waiting to see her and this stubborn door was the problem.

Creature, the stone wall, was as content as ever with the silence. Enjoying a book of his own in the corner, likely philosophy or something.

Although constant companions and wholly comfortable talking to each other, the two had worn out their conversation topics years ago. Either agreeing on certain things or tired of arguing in circles on others.

There were days when they'd debate for hours about something she was <em>clearly</em> right about and days where they pretended the other didn’t exist.

Lately he often mocked her about her ‘adoring fans’.

Judged her for how greedily she drank up the attention like a surgical sponge. Languishing in the first shreds of approval she’d had in decades.

Well, he hadn't actually said any of that, but he was thinking it! She knew he was!

She could just feel his disapproval in how easily she was letting herself get attached as if it were her own…

Bah! What does he know?

She hears them before she sees them, WAY before she sees them. The gaggle of lodgers charging up the steps with almost as much enthusiasm as they did on her first day awake.

The woman straightened immediately, practically tossing her book aside and giving her full attention to the door.

Finally, Frankenstein’s day was resuscitated as a crowd of almost every lodger in the building burst into her room. All chattering and shifting and even waving at her like her prison of a bed was a grand stage or operating theatre.

They kept a respectable distance considering how small the room was with so many people in it. And she preened under their attention, ignoring creatures sigh at his reading being interrupted.

“Frankenstein! Frankenstein!” everyone called out excitedly. Eagerly talking over each other.

Everyone was smiling and leaning around each other to get a better view of her. All their words blending together. 

A hearty laugh bubbled out of Frankenstein’s chest. They were so energetic and curious, smart and idealistic. They were perfect scientist material!

She wanted to put them all in her pocket and take them with her on her travels, tell them stories, show them the world.

Oh, how she resented that idiotic Doctor Jekyll for keeping them in a box. The way he had them eating out of his perfectly manicured hand, thanking him for their gilded cage.

Well it was about time they bit that hand!

Couldn't they see how the world was not in their books and manuscripts, it was out there!

Frankenstein held her gloved hands up to quiet the noise, taking a big breath for what was sure to be a rallying speech that would finally convince the so-called lodgers to fight for their freedom.

“Frankenstein! We have some special guests who want to meet you!”

She was cut off by a few of the lodgers. Fighting their way through the crowd, they were ushering someone to the front, entirely hidden behind the energetic scientists.

Frankenstein blinked in surprise as there, pushed out of the huddle as though in offering, were two…children.

She froze.

A cold wind rushed through her, instantly snuffing out the spark she’d held seconds ago. Cutting through her coat to her core.

The two boys in front of her were distinctive in appearance, it nagged at her, distantly. But all she could see was William.

“These are our newest recruits! Henderson and what was it? Benry? Yeah Benry.”

There was no way anyone named these unfortunate children that, unless London had gotten weird while she was gone, but the two seemed too entranced with her creature to correct them.

The boys weren't even looking at her like everyone else was, eyes instead on the homunculi like he was some celebrity they got backstage tickets to see.

“We found them snooping ‘round our labs!” “Cripes they were hard to catch.” “These two are gonna be fine scientists someday!”

The creature that had killed her youngest brother.

She understood why he did it.

She understood it was her fault.

It was her fault. For making a monster with such strength, just to see if she could. It was her fault for abandoning it, leading to the resentment and hatred for all like her. All Frankensteins.

It was her fault he was dead.

No! It was the price one paid for Science, she was wrong to have attachments then and she would not let herself get attached to these kids now. Not when it meant people got hurt. Not when - aannnnnnd Creature was letting them climb on him like monkey bars.

To her shock Creature was holding perfectly still, staring in utter befuddlement at the small things crawling on him like bugs.

As hesitant as he looked, he wasn’t stopping them. Merely watching.

It was… odd.

This had never happened to him before. Fully grown adults who were hardened from life and trained to deal with criminals turned tail at the mere sight of him, yet here were two children, gazing up at him with round eyes like he was Santa Claus.

“WOW, you’re Frankenstein's monster?!”

“Did you kill Frankenstein?”

“Are you gonna kill someone else?”

“How did Frankenstein make you?”

“Can we be friends?”

“Do you wanna play doctor with us? Mr.Tanis gave me a scalpel!”

One of the lodgers yelped, “What!? I most certainly did not!”

The way they were looking at him…

The lodgers looked at him the same way. At first he had taken it with suspicion, as he did all things. Assuming that their looks were of scientific curiosity, and that they were imagining all the ways they could dissect him. Take him apart and find out how he ticked, just like Moraue longed to.

But now, it was obvious, they were looking at him with childlike wonder.

Creature stared mutely as the lodgers wrestled the knife from the boy with brown hair, not quite understanding it yet.

The blond’s hair tickled as it brushed against his shoulder, though he did not react to it. The two children were being surprisingly careful where they placed their hands, taking care to not pull on any of his seams.

Creature watched as the little one slipped off, landing back first on his lap with an “oof”. The fall wasn't tall enough to knock the breath out of him though, so he seemed fine.

Creature lifted him up, holding the boy in one palm. He giggled in response.

One of the lodgers whose name he didn’t know called out to the boys.

“Hey! Didn’t you want ‘ta meet Frankenstein?”

The man was standing by the bed, gesturing to his creator with a smile.

The two boys gasped and scrambled to her.

The woman seemed almost startled to have her name called, snapping out of her trance.

Frankenstein shook the clashing thoughts out of her head. The two children at her bedside were staring at her, opening and closing their mouths like they couldn’t grasp what question to ask first.

She looked at the one with brown hair. She had snorted instinctively when he pulled an actual scalpel out of nowhere. A fine scientist indeed.

The blonde one had eyes like she’d never seen before. Perhaps he was some sort of creature? Or a descendant of one at least. No humans eyes produced light like that for no reason.

They looked at her like she hung the stars, like she held the secret to life itself. Which she did of course. 

No wonder these boys had snuck into the society just to see her! Why, who wouldn’t want to see the infamous Dr. Frankenstein!

And what's more, these precious children were untainted by Dr. Henry’s lies! The false ideas of what a mad scientist should be, reliant on his wealth and equipment.

Victoria had always seen herself as Job, a man who had everything taken from him, everything he loved and everyone who loved him, only to be rewarded for his faith.

She’d always seen the advancement of science as her reward for carrying out her experiments, a higher plane of understanding, the closest a human could come to godhood. But… hadn’t Job’s been everything he’d lost twofold?

Maybe, when she and Creature left London, they wouldn’t have to leave alone.

[I was struck by LIGHTNING when writing this sentence. All of the sudden a whole new plotline was open to me. One where Henry stays with the society and Edward is offered the chance to leave with Frankenstein to the _ forests.

It reminds me of gravity falls when the twins argue over Dipper taking Ford’s internship.]

Frankenstein puffed up her chest and launched into a story.

When Lanyon returned he waltzed through the kitchen door, swinging it open dramatically.

“Rachel, I'm back! I told the tailor Edward lost their bags on the trip here, so they need a new wardrobe.” he crowed, only to see an empty kitchen.

Hm, not in here. He wandered out again, peeking down random hallways.

He hadn't really told them that. As soon as he’d handed off the note and the words “childrens clothes” were out of his mouth Lady Beatrice and Lady Kimberleigh had practically mobbed him. Gushing and asking if he and Everly had finally had luck with a baby. He nearly had to beat the women off with a clothing hanger!

He shuddered at the thought of what rumors would come of this.

Regardless, the outfits were ordered and they could pick up a set in the morning.

“Rachel! Henry! Where in the blazes are you?”

“Robert!!”

He paused in the middle of the hall. That was Rachel. But he’d never heard her shout like that. She sounded almost scared, Rachel never sounded scared! Not even when Hyde disappeared after the fire.

He turned around and was surprised to see her running up to him with wide eyes, her hair a mess like she'd been running her hands through it. Her eyes red and puffy.

“Robert I’ve been looking everywhere and I <em>can’t</em> find them I can’t I've looked everywhere please tell me you know where they are.” she gasped, skidding to a stop.

His eyes widened, heartbeat picking up, “Know where- what?! Rachel you were the one who claimed <em>I</em> couldn't handle them, don’t tell me you’ve lost them already!”

The day manager tried to catch her breath, swiping a lock out of her eye.

“I was-! I took my eyes off them for just a minute! I left them to get changed while I made some sandwiches and I told- I told them to come to the kitchen after but they didn't and I went back for them but they- Robert they weren't there and I’ve <em>looked</em> everywhere oh what if they’ve left the building? Robert I <em>can’t</em> lose him again! I can’t!” she cried.

Lanyon had <em>never</em> seen her like this, she was always so sure and confident, it honestly made him nervous.

She reached out to him for a hug and he flinched back like her arms were livewires.

“Er, Well!! They can’t have gone too far! I’m sure they're just hiding or something. Kids do that, I think. Surely there's some nook or cranny you haven't checked yet!” He was stone stiff oh god where was Jekyll when you needed him, he can't comfort this poor girl!

Rachel just shook her head, curls flying, “No no I checked my room, Henry’s office, I checked all the labs and rooms and bathrooms I can’t think of anywhere else <em>to</em> look!”

“Well, they’ve gotta be here, can't the lodgers whip up some sort of, I don’t know, finding device?” He peered down the hall, hoping to flag down the nearest one and get them to deal with this. Unfortunately it seemed like he was on his own for this one.

“I don’t think that's how it works Lanyon, besides it’d take far too long, what if they're hurt?”

“Well they should at least <em>try</em>.” He huffed, “It wouldn't hurt to have more people looking either. Where are the lodgers anyway?” Now that he thought of it he hadn’t seen anyone besides Rachel since walking in.

Rachel sniffed, rubbing her face and breathing more evenly.

“Oh yeah, they were all running around earlier, some sort of emergency.

I think Griffin finally turned invisible and they lost him or something.”

She looked around, just noticing how empty the halls were.

“Uh, that was a while ago actually. They should have found him by now.”

Lanyon shifted uncomfortably. First Henry and Edward, now the whole society? Whatever was going on couldn’t be good.

In fact, it was almost suspicious how everyone had gone missing at the same time while he was gone…

“Wait. Oh god, What if the lodgers have them? The lodgers hate Henry! What if they took him away? What if they’re experimenting on him right now to find out why he’s small?!” Lanyon yelped.

Rachel frowned at him, “The lodgers do not hate Henry.”

“Oh yeah? What about the exhibition they’re all refusing to take part in? You’ve heard what they're saying about him, that he’s somehow corrupt and ‘rotten’ just because he hasn't gone off the deep end and killed anyone using science or something!”

“They're just going through a bit of a rebellious phase right now.” she defended, “And besides, even if they did, they love Hyde, they drink and play games all the time! They wouldn't hurt him.”

“That's worse!” Lanyon cried. He resisted the urge to run his hands through his styled hair, “Hyde’s planning on killing Jekyll for his will! What if the lodgers are in on it? What if they know he inherits the society? Now would be the perfect time to do it, they probably took him off to Queen Frankenstein while he’s small and defenseless!”

“Edward is <em>not</em> plotting to kill Jekyll!” Rachel shouted, “Would you give that a rest already! As for Franken..stein…”

The two looked at each other with wide eyes and bolted for the stairs.

“And that's when the beast pounced! I dropped my torch and rolled out of the way, I heard it crash into the brush behind me and took the chance to make a break for it. I ran all night, struggling to see my way in the dark and knowing it had no such human limitations. 

Miles away from civilization I knew my only chance was to somehow find Creature in the snowy woods before the beast found me.”

The lodgers gasped quietly and whispered to each other, sitting criss-crossed on the floor.

Both children were sat on Frankenstein’s lap, enraptured by her tale. They looked up at her with wide eyes, hanging on her every word.

“At one point I stumbled my way into a clearing, the…vollmond shining down on me. It was close behind, I could hear the thing snapping branches like twigs. I knew the only way was forward and started running. I could barely breathe, my legs felt like lead, with every step I took it only got closer, bounding after me on all six legs. It’s wide maw-”

The door slammed open with a bang. Everyone jumped, some people screaming in surprise.

Everyone whirled around.

At the door were two figures, hidden by the shaded doorframe.

Frankenstein huffed, more annoyed than anything. 

“Really doctor, this is the second time you've interrupted my tales for your insipid formula…Oh, the other one.”

The doctor coming toward her was not Jekyll, as she assumed, but Lanyon. The purple man was trudging through the crowd on the floor, stepping on hands and nearly tripping over people in his haste.

She crossed her arms, huffing, “Really, you and your-”

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

As soon as he was in range Robert snatched Henry off her lap. Earning a startled yelp from the boy.

Frankenstein jolted, confused. She hadn't seen this man much and while he was never the most agreeable person, she'd never seen him so furious.

She sputtered as he held the boy to his chest the way mothers did when she and Creature walked by. If she were in a better mood she’d get a kick out of the gentleman fearing her more than her creation.

“What in the world do you think you're doing? Grabbing this boy like you own him when I was <em>clearly</em>-!”

“What are you doing to him? Huh? Putting ideas in his head, trying to make him mad like you!” he accused, holding the boy tight while he squirmed uncomfortably.

“I bet you people are trying to brainwash him! Get him involved in unnatural things and mad scientist nonsense!”

Rachel, who was much shorter than the doctor and was caught behind the now-standing crowd of lodgers, tried to call out to him. “Er, Robert! I don’t think-” 

“Hey! What's your problem?” “We’re having storytime here!” “You're in the way!” “Leave him alone!” “Frankenstein ain’t done nothing wrong!”

Lanyon turned on the crowd with a snarl.

“Nothing wrong? Are you people crazy? She hit him!!”

Everyone gasped at the wild accusation. Of course they were on her side! Nevermind that Henry was just trying to help her when she hit him! Nevermind that she didn’t even have the grace to apologize!

One of the lodgers he did recognize, Helsby, immediately jumped to the quacks' defense.

“How <em>dare</em> you say that about Frankenstein! You rich pricks are all the same! Slandering good people's names when it suits you!”

“Frankenstein would never do that!”

“Yeah! We’ve been here the whole time and she never hurt him at all!”

Frankenstein herself looked unbelievably offended, her face a likely unhealthy shade of red for someone her age. “Dr. Robert I’m aware you disapprove of my presence here but I have NO intentions of hurting any child.” she spat coldly.

“Oh yeah? Even if that child is Jekyll?” He challenged.

“I- what on earth are you talking about you simpleton, that's not doctor Jekyll thats…”

Frankenstein looked at the boy squirming in his arms, <em>really</em> looked at him.

The smaller boy was still on the bed with her, pulling on the brunette in Robert’s arms. The brunette reached back, holding onto the other, looking at him with red eyes… he had a rather hooked nose…

The lodgers took up her rebuttal with vigor.

“What? Lanyon, did you hit your head man?”

“Yeah obviously that's Benry!”

Robert stared incredulously at the room full of scientists and doctors. Jaw hanging wide.

“<em>Are you telling me not a single one of you realized they're Jekyll and Hyde?!</em>”

Every person in the room stopped still.

“<em>WHAT???</em>”

“What did <em>Jekyll</em> do to get on Ito’s bad side?”

“Wait, you guys didn’t know that?”

“You did??? Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“I thought we all knew and just weren't talking about it!”

“WHY WOULD WE DO THAT?!”

“Oh, I thought they were Jekyll and Hyde's secret love children.”

“<em>What?!</em>”

“What, you think one of them's a girl? And besides, Hyde's only worked here the past two years, these guys are older than that!”

“So? Are you saying Hyde didn't exist before then or what? You think Hyde spontaneously came into existence two years ago? Huh?”

“Are YOU saying only girls can give birth? Some gals are guys!”

“Sure but Hyde??”

“He <em>is</em> rather short for a man his age.”

“Actually I was thinking Jekyll, he seems kinda feminine doesn't he?”

“Maybe Hyde knocked Jekyll up and recently found out about them! And he stayed to be a good father!”

“Pfft! Hyde? A good father? Now you're talking crazy.”

“I bet <em>that's</em> why Jekyll’s kept him around so long! He's the father of their children!”

Lanyon felt anger and disbelief rush through his whole body. He worked his mouth trying to say whatever was on his mind that wasn’t straight cussing.

“I - I - NEITHER OF THEM ARE WOMEN AND THESE AREN'T THEIR SECRET LOVE CHILDREN WOULD YOU LOT SHUT IT ALREADY”

Robert held a hand to his temples, his face screwed into a scowl.

“We suspect they were testing some sort of potion and something went wrong, turning them both into children.”

“Both of them drank it?” “What kind of potion?” “Wait but why don’t they remember us?” “Are they stuck like this?”

“Stuck like what?”

He stiffened. For a moment he’d entirely forgotten he was still holding Henry in his arms.

The boy was looking up at him, wide red eyes searching his face for something.

“Are-are we, we didn’t…?”

Suddenly Lanyon realized they had been hiding it. He and Rachel hadn’t mentioned who they were, why they knew them, or the real reason they couldn't go home. Hell they had even left the kitchen earlier to talk out of earshot.

They hadn’t meant to keep it from them. Honestly hiding it hadn't crossed their minds, but, neither did telling them. 

It felt wrong somehow. Like they weren't planning on having them around long enough to have the need to explain it to them. 

The boys hadn't asked why they knew them, too young to really distrust them. They just assumed all adults knew everything.

Before he had to answer and make everything worse, Rachel cut in. Now free of the jostling crowd and finally making it to Frankenstein’s bedside.

“Er, so, you remember when we found you, and we knew your names?” she asked.

The boys nod slowly, quietly looking at her.

“Well, nobody told us your names, we know them because, well I guess you told us.

We’re friends. We have been for a while, but, you two are supposed to be adults. Like us. Your names are Edward Hyde and Dr. Henry Jekyll. And you work here at the society, like we do.”

Henry tightened his hands on Robert's sleeve, face unreadable.

Edward gaped at the woman, still standing on the bed.

“But- but we’re not, we didn't drink any potions. We were at home!”

“I know, I know this doesn’t make any sense, I’m sorry for that. But, this isn’t so bad is it? We can take care of you! We’re gonna find a way to fix this. Right?”

She glanced at Robert, who was tight-lipped and looking at his friend with a distracted look in his eyes.

“Uh, right.”

“That-That’s ridiculous!!”

Right. Frankenstein was still there.

Robert slowly composed himself, the smugness he felt in realizing the woman had been speechless that whole time fueling his salty soul.

As mad as she had looked earlier, it was a cold sort of anger. This? This sputtering rage was fuming.

“This boy cannot be Dr. Henry! He is a scientist! That blasted doctor is nothing but a-a-a shameful fake and a stain on the name of science itself! Henry Jekyll is a disgrace of an alchemist and false idol of respectability and hollowness!

I detest that horrible man!” She gestured to the boy in Robert's arms, “How dare you make the wild claim that he is…that…”

Her eyes widened as she saw the expression on said boy's face.

Everyone in the room stared in horror as both kids BURST into tears.

“What is <em>wrong</em> with you??”

Rachel grabbed Henry from Robert. Who was holding the sobbing boy as far away from himself as he possibly could. Then snatched Edward up under her other arm. Storming from the room in a hurry.

She could hear Lanyon and Frankenstein start shouting behind her, quickly joined by everyone else. 

Rachel kicked the door shut behind them and sprinted all the way to Jekyll’s office.

When they got there she had to put the boys down to open the door. 

They had stopped crying by now but were eerily silent. Both looking down at their feet.

“Don’t listen to Frankenstein, both of you. That old hag's hated Dr. Jay since she got here for no reason at all! She isn’t even a real doctor!” she huffed.

Her voice hammered through the silence in a way that almost made her regret speaking at all. But the boys didn’t so much as flinch.

Creasing her eyebrows in worry, Rachel led them to the side room she knew Jekyll usually slept in instead of his own house. She's not sure exactly how old they are right now but they were definitely young enough to need a nap after all that.

As the boys walked past her she snatched Edward up into a hug and <em>squeezed</em>.

He startled, kicking his legs around. “Hey! Stop doing that!”

“Goodness sakes you two! Do you have any idea how worried I was when you ran off? I have half a mind to lecture you for leaving like that! But…”  now wasn’t a good time to scold them, “ I’ll let it slide if you chickadees lay down without a fuss.” she promised, nodding to the bedroom.

Henry looked around the room, there wasn’t much to see. More red curtains blocking out the light, a single bed pushed up against the wall, and a rather large wardrobe. Like the office, there were a lot of books, either on shelves or just the floor. There were many frames on the walls but it was too dark to make out many details.

They didn’t have shoes to remove so Rachel set Edward down on the bed, Henry hopping up next to him.

Sniffing, the two nuzzled into the pillows quietly as Rachel tucked the blankets in around them. 

Rachel is leaning against the doorway between Jekyll’s office and room when she hears the doorknob rattle.

She startles a bit, instinctively reaching for the kitchen knife in her pocket. <em>I swear to god if that wretch hobbled all the way here just to-</em>

The office door swings open to reveal Lanyon.

He blinks when he sees her, but doesn’t look too surprised. Mostly he just looks tired.

Behind him was Ito, who followed him into the room silently. She nodded at Rachel in acknowledgement, who nodded back.

Rachel peeked into the room, still asleep.

She pushed off the doorframe and with a final glance back, gently closed the door.

Lanyon sighed, stopping at Jekyll’s desk.“I talked to the lodgers, they're not to tell anyone outside of the society about this. Ms. Ito has volunteered to take a look at whatever potion they drank.”

Ito, who had been drawn by the shouting, had been given a rundown by the other lodgers. And, unamused at the grown adults all talking over each other, waited politely til Lanyon was done to offer her services.

“Dr.Jekyll taught me everything I know, if anyone can figure out what went wrong it would be me.” she stated.

“Alright, we think this is the potion they took.” Robert grabbed the glass container lying on the desk to hand to Ito, “It was the only one out of place when we came in, though neither of us actually saw them drink it.”

She nodded, taking the glass and holding it to the light.

There was very little liquid left. It looked to be a dull brown at first but when she tilted in one way and the other there was an oily red and green residue around the edges.

She sniffed at the potion, the smell alone almost made her gag. An unholy mix of so much salt she could smell it and residual fumes that made her head spin. Frankly she's surprised the two men managed to swallow this at all. Though with the things she’s seen Hyde eat maybe she shouldn’t be.

Ito sighed, “This just doesn’t make any sense, Dr. Jekyll would have measured out exact amounts, and certainly taken it one at a time if they were testing something new. Unless it had a delayed reaction.”

“What if it wasn’t something new?” Rachel suggested, “What if they did this a lot and were more casual with it?”

“Maybe, but what would they be so casual with? Do they take the same medication?”

“Mm, not that I know of. Maybe not medicine then? I know Edward drinks random potions sometimes for the hell of it.” she laughed quietly, “One time he vomited some sort of green goo in my sink and ran all the way to Jekyll's office.”

“Not to mention we practically have to force Henry to take medicine when he <em>is</em> sick.” Robert offered. The only thing he knew of Jekyll self-medicating with was wine, and it didn't typically de-age people by almost thirty years.

Ito poked around the desk in silence. She knew Dr. Jekyll was usually a dedicated note-taker, but again, if this was something he did often there would be no reason to.

Frustratingly, the habit of putting ingredients away after herself that the doctor tried so hard to drill into her was working against them now.

Usually it meant that volatile materials weren't lying around waiting to be knocked over and cause messes, or even small explosions. But in this case it meant she had no idea what ingredients were used in this experiment.

Dammit. She sighed and turned to Rachel and Lanyon.

“Alright, so basically I have no clue what this was originally supposed to do, much less how it went wrong, much less how to reverse it. 

I can take a closer look at this with some equipment but this isn’t a lot to work with.”

The two looked at her in shock, like she’d grown another head.

Robert bit his lip, tiredness quickly replaced with nervous energy.

“Can’t you just, give them a potion that makes them older?” he asked.

Ito made a face. “I…don’t think that would be a good idea. If we forced them to grow up they still wouldn't have any of their old memories, they'd just be adult-shaped children. And that's <em>if</em> something like that would work and not mix negatively with whatever they've taken. For all we know this could be a temporary side effect, and changing anything would mess everything up.”

“So they just, won’t remember us? Everything we’ve done together, everything we’ve talked about, all the time we spent together is just gone?” Rachel cried, “There's nothing we can do to get them back?”

Robert clenched his fists on the desk.

Ito sighed, “I know this isn’t what you want to hear but I think the best thing to do is just try to wait this out.”

She refused to say something so terrible out loud, but there might not be a solution to this.

Lanyon’s expression is blank with shock, then twists into anger.

“Well are we just supposed to wait forever?! Wait for them to grow up naturally? What about our friends? Our- our-!”

Ito clenched her jaw, “They’re my friends too.” she snapped.

“Look, there’s not much I can do with the information we have, Dr. Lanyon.

Even if I knew what went wrong and how to reverse this we'd need a ton of body parts. One of the most basic rules of alchemy is that mass can't be made or destroyed and I’m not even sure where it went when they shrank!” she said, throwing her hands up.

The neo alchemist took what remained of the potion and walked out of the room, leaving the two leaning over the desk in despair.

“I'll keep working on it but please, don’t get your hopes up.”

She closed the office door behind her to give them some privacy.

[fumiyami]

MY OPINIONS ON DIFFERENT TOKOYAMI SHIPS!!!!

TokoTsuyu (Tokoyami x Asui)

• both animal based!!

•teamed up for that one thing of 1A against the teachers and was a good team

•saw a fanfic of these two on ao3 and it made me think of them two more!!

•I see Tsu as a lesbian mostly but none of their sexualities are confirmed (and let’s be real most of them are gonna be straight😰)

Overall: 4/10

BakuToko (Bakugou x Tokoyami)

•I saw a bunch of fics of these two and they were mostly all super good!!

•but y’all I hate bakugou’s character😓 (don’t send me death threats please and thanks!!)

•still though those fics changed my perspective on these ships

•also like super aggressive x super calm is a good trope!!

Overall: 5/10

TokoYama (Tokoyami x Aoyama)

•u guys i’m coming out as a tokoyama shipper!!! :((

•I LIVE for the trope of sun x moon

•also they have so many things in common!! like: both being insecure (I think), both having belly button quirks, both speaking in an unusual way (yuga speaking french and fumi being like gothic and stuff), and having a set aesthetic (yuga being bright and shiny while fumi’s all dark and broody)

•i’ve seen SO MANY cute fics of these two!! one of my personal favourites: Your Love Is Sunlight by Rainy_Day_Lemonade on AO3!!

•most birds are attracted to shiny things!! yuga is a very shiny thing!!

•I imagine yuga stealing fumi’s heart by first making dark shadow warming up to him!!

Overall: 10/10 (MY FAVOURITE MHA SHIP)

KuroYami (Kuroiro x Tokoyami)

•I don’t know much about this ship or kuroiro in general but he seems cool!!

•they’re both like dark-based or gothic!!

•I feel like it would take dark shadow a long time to warm up to kuroiro due to like him controlling him that one time?? I wouldn’t know I skipped past that scene :((

•also!! kuroiro canonically already has a crush and I don’t really like going against canon or anything!! (I like when my delusional mind can at least imagine my ships being possible)

•the opposite of opposites attract😥

Overall: 3/10

TokoKami (Tokoyami x Kaminari)

•i’ve seen like one fic of this and it was super good!!

•also I saw these fanmade mha tweets on tiktok by this person called Az who ships denki and fumi and it was so cute!! like: Denki: Tokoyami keeps giving me rocks what do I do??? (or something like that)

•I don’t know much about denki (or anyone other than fumikage and mina for that matter) but he seems like a good character!!

•I don’t see much of these two though :((

•another sun x moon trope?? maybe?? opposites attract?

•there’s official art of fumikage and denki sitting next to each other and stuff so :))

Overall: 4/10

TokoShoji (Tokoyami x Shoji)

•I had no idea what colour to do for Shoji so I just went blue :((

•anyways my heteromorph boys!!

•I don’t think of these two much but I keep seeing cute fanart of them on pinterest!!

•I think they’re friends in canon??!

•I feel like this would be a possibility like if any of these ships were to happen it’d be either TokoTsuyu or TokoShoji!!

•i’m so sorry but I did almost forget about Shoji entirely (I love the man I really do!! such a gentleman)

•not much to say but I like the height difference!! short x tall!!

Overall: 6/10

TokoJirou (Tokoyami x Jirou)

•this ship could also be a possibility in some far away universe!!

•they had a drama cd together about jirou being scared of ghosts while her and fumikage explored a haunted building of UA and she grabbed onto the hem of his shirt the whole time which was cool!

•they both have cool aesthetics!!

•both play guitar so they could do like duets together or something

•oh em gee I just thought of them doing a cover of that one song where it’s like “they’re only human they don’t see” or whatever!! (sorry y’all I barely know that song🤯🤯)

•I prefer either jirou x denki or jirou x momo but tokojirou is fantastic as well!!

•but I also have a slight grudge against jirou for personal reasons..(don’t kill me)

Overall: 6/10

TokoKoda (Tokoyami x Koda)

•both heteromorphs!!

•some people headcanon them as both autistic so that’s cool they can like sympathise with each other!!

•I headcanon fumikage to know sign language so if koda goes non verbal then they can communicate!!

•ALSO. animal based quirk x animal based human!!

•both of their favourite animals are probably birds and I love that

•BUT I don’t know much about koda enough and I don’t see much content of this ship :((

Overall: 3/10

I LOVE ALL SHIPS WITH TOKOYAMI REALLY (except for one..looking at you hawks x tokoyami😟😟) AS LONG AS THEYRE LEGAL AND HEALTHY!!

[bettyfrommars]

Squirrel (a Gutterballs story)

Eddie Munson x betty!Reader

A jump from modern day to the early 1990's when we meet a young, aspiring rockstar Eddie Munson at the heart of the Seattle grunge scene. I had the huge honor of being included in the Tattoo Cover-up Valentine's Day Special episode of Gutterballs by @dr-aculaaa and I'm still emotional about it, to be honest. This wee contribution is dedicated to Drac, as well as all of the Gutterballs friends I'm proud to know because of this fandom (coming for you, Daria.)

word count: 1.4k

18+, smoking weed, the term 'bitches' used affectionally, mention of heartbreak, allusions to mental illness, a supposed one-night stand that became more, mention of addiction, that one friend who can find anyone online, hurt/comfort. Reader (Betty) has a good friend named Shelby, which is actually my cat in real life.

------

You picked at the label of your beer, waiting impatiently for your friend to pull up something on her laptop.

It was the recent episode of Gutterballs that had spurred your Sherlock Holmes friend into action. You said something in passing about how it’d be impossible to find the rest of Eddie Munson’s lost loves that were mentioned on the infamous podcast, and then she’d lost sleep wanting to prove you wrong.  

“So. Here’s Abi and Chelsea,” Shelby motioned for you to come and look over her shoulder. She clicked on search tabs one at a time, including one for Ashley, causing a melancholy smile to quiver at the side of your mouth.  “Pretty,” you nodded. “Eddie always knew how to pick ‘em.”

“This one looks dangerous,” she pointed to Jo, adjusting her glasses. “They all seem totally cool, actually.” 

You scanned the various results from her internet sleuthing.  “Which one is that?”

“Oh, that’s Meg,” Shelby clicked on a social media profile, and then pulled up a video of a chef with purple hair preparing something on the morning show.

“Fuckin, Meg,” you said under your breath in your best Eddie voice.  

“Doesn’t she own that restaurant in Chicago we couldn’t afford to go to?” Shelby pinched her joint from the ashtray and took a drag, enlarging photos from their menu, concentrating.  “I wonder if they accept Groupon.”

You stealthily followed Abby on social media from your private account and planned to buy some of her watercolor paintings.  Funny enough, you already knew Emily. The two of you had been part of a mutual friend group for years, and so when Eddie mentioned them being a bitch you had to snort a laugh because…yeah.    

“Nice work, Columbo,” you patted Shelby’s shoulder.  “You found all of them in under 24 hours. I shall make you a commemorative plaque out of dry macaroni.”

Checking her phone, your sleuth friend mumbled to herself as she went down a rabbit hole of social media comments.

“Not all,” she slipped her bottom lip through her teeth a few times.  “Took me a while to find Rose, they go by a different name on social media.  The drawings they do are badass, and they like that same actor you do, the one with the Minecraft head.”

“So, I’m the only one out of all of them who didn’t do anything with my life? Nice.”

“Hey,” she said in mock scorn.  “I bet none of these bitches can say they’ve had absolutely every career that’s ever existed. It takes a special kind of ingenuity to change jobs every 6 months. Plus, you wrote and published a whole-ass novel.”

“It only sold 37 copies,” you muttered. “Ten of which were to you and mom.”

You held your breath after that, watching the screen, waiting for the one name you hadn’t been able to connect a face to yet, but instead, Shelby slumped on the barstool with a defeated sigh.  “Daria might be the one that got away.  Haven’t found even a crumb for who or where they might be.”

“Damn,” you said softly.   …where are you, Strigoi? 

“How does Eddie even pull partners this hot?” Shelby asked, turning to dig for her Visine.  “Wasn’t he the one who bragged about being able to burp the alphabet?”

Laughter bubbled in your throat at the memory; the type of laugh that immediately made tears burst from your eyes. You wiped your face in a way that was more of a slap and turned to stare at the gloom settling into the pines outside the window. 

“He has a way about him I suppose.”

“I think you should call him,” she blurted, offering you a hit off the purple kush, but you waved her off. “If only to figure out the Daria mystery.”

“Oh yeah? Just call him? Just like that? Oh, hey Eddie I know it’s been almost three decades, but what’s new?”

“I mean, sounds legit to me.”

Remember those rainy days, Squirrel? Remember…

You tossed and turned early the next morning, reaching for your phone to scroll and help push away intrusive thoughts.  How many things you’d fucked up, how many friends you’d lost to time and death and sloppy choices.

Maybe not all was lost…

Seattle, early 1990’s

“My lady is here with us tonight,” Eddie rumbled into the mic, gesturing to you from where he stood on that rickety old stage in front of a rowdy crowd at The Crocodile Cafe. Alice in Chains had played there, as well as Mother Love Bone and Mudhoney, back before they were household names. “This next one's for her.”

From your seat at the bar, you locked eyes with him, beaming with pride, but also shaking your head. “I hate you,” mouthing the words made his dimpled grin grow wider.

“Betty Spaghetti…. My beautiful Aquarius twin.”

The ink on your matching Aquarius glyph tattoos were still covered in Aquaphor that night.  You’d spent the past two weeks trying to figure out how this chatty Indiana boy had managed to become a permanent fixture in your life. 

“I don’t want anything serious,” you’d said into his mouth while your hands were all over each other in the dive bar bathroom the first time you met. Bonding over booze, blow, and the shared trauma of losing a parent, you recognized that emptiness mirrored in each other and wanted to fill it.  

“Cool, neither do I,” he mumbled, shoving his jeans down his hips.  

But he’d been lying through his teeth, and he confessed that to you a month later down on the wharf, handing over a little squirrel made of shells from the pocket of his leather jacket. He’d been sneaky and bought it at Ye Olde Curiosity Shop, a place the two of you liked to go to visit the mummified remains of a dude named Sylvester. 

There was no major foundation for giving him the nickname Squirrel, one day it just happened.  He was on the couch in his boxers, stoned out of his gourd, shoveling pretzels into his mouth at such a manic rate that his cheeks looked like they were about to burst.  

“So, you knew I was the one back then? In a dark bar after 8 shots?” 

He looped his arm with yours as you walked. “Uh-huh, still do,” he leaned in closer. “Still do.”

At that moment, during those days, you worried that you wouldn’t be able to breathe without him. You were both so young, too young to fully comprehend the impact of that time in your life in later years, or what a trauma bond even was.

But then the day came that you’d come to realize would always arrive for you eventually, and that was the time to move on: to other experiences, other people. 

You didn’t know at the time that it could be done any other way, and so you made a real mess of things. 

He made several attempts to get in touch with you, including the time years later when he found out from your mom that you were in rehab.  He wrote to you, but you never wrote back, never returned his calls.  

He wasn’t trying to stir up the old flames or get back together; by then, that ship had sailed, and the Eddie Munson you knew never stayed single for long.  But he did want you to know that you weren’t alone, that you would always have a friend in him. That he’d meant it when he said he’d always care about you.

Returning to the current reality, you chewed at your thumbnail, staring at the phone number Shelby had written down for you on a yellow legal pad.  How she’d managed to get a hold of Eddie Munson’s private cell number, you’d never know.  

You were about to end the call after the second ring, flustered, thinking it would be better to send a text, when just then—- he answered. 

Eddie recognized the area code, but never thought in a million years that it would be…

“H-hey Squirrel, it’s me.”

Dead silence made your heart flop.  Maybe you should say it’s a wrong number, maybe this was a mistake.  What if he considered you a lost love, but he no longer wanted anything to do with you? He did cover up the tattoo, after all.  

“Well, well, if it isn’t my Betty Fuckin’ Spaghetti,” you could hear the joy in his voice, could hear his wide smile cracking into seasoned laugh lines.  “I’ve missed the shit outta you.” 

[bananaactivity]

I have a few questions about ur Au,

what was it like for the C4 when they moved to Auradon ?. Also what is their dynamic like on the isle and auradon. How's their relationship like with their parents?

I really like your AU btw :)

When they moved to Auradon it was just as awkward as the first movie. Even though this time they aren’t there to get the Isle free ( because Auradon is the place locked up to people who aren’t extremely wealthy and influential) they’re there to experience what society deems a “Amazing Life”. As well as get degrees from Auradon Uni which is so accredited that any job anywhere will hire you with that degree.

But the time they get there they’ve already been raised under their parents to young adult age, so it’s even harder for them to unlearn their negative traits that really hurt people. Jay with stealing and fighting, Mal with underestimating people and behaving like she’s the best in every situation, Carlos with literally being a menace to animals ( he wants to make diferentes cool clothing pieces and sell em because Auradon has heard about him and really likes his stuff even if it is taboo) , and Evie with her excepting people to do things for her and not doing her own hard work.

There dynamic on the Isle is close but still strenuous . Mal underestimates them all especially Carlos, who is close with Harry so that’s pretty rough. Mal and Evie have a will they won’t they thing, and Jay actively provokes Harry which is only okay to do because Harry likes fighting him. They have a gang with many diferentes underlings and it was this close to being infiltrated by Harry doe to Umas debt request…. But they never knew about that because they get wished away to Auradon.

On the isle however they begin to drift apart after a year. Carlos because of his friendship with Chad and Jane who have always been less of a headache to be around. Evie and Mal because they start dating after breaking up with there Auradon boy friends and it’s not as happy as they thought it’d be. Jays the only one feeling the effects of this waning closeness as well as the sadness of finding out things about Harry he won’t ever be able to act on, so as such he latched on to that not so healthy relationship with Ben who is feeling kinda the same.

I only have my timeline figured out from Rise of Red “Auradon” pre Chloe and Red up to the second descendants movie, so the rest of the development for these guys is yet to be seen.

( I don’t want to read the books or watch the extra shows so wtv is in those I don’t care about)

[charlies-world-yay]

FIRST POST ON HERE OH EM GEE

i made this funny little au called undercat! there are no comics just yet but i definitely plan to make some and it’d be cool if you made some asks so i could have characters respond to them!!

here’s a little background on the au: Humans are dogs, monsters are cats! it’s pretty much the same concept with the story, theres nothing that’s really changed with that part, but in this au, there was only one reset, and there hasn’t been any genocide runs. why? well the main protagonist (frisk!) is actually around six years old and unlike in the game, IS capable of making their own decisions (kinda boring i know :p) frisk is very energetic and very caring, they’re sweet torwards anyone they meet and wouldn’t hurt a fly, after they left ruins they met sans and papyrus, they did a few of the puzzles but had trouble with them, getting frustrated with them they got a bit upset, sans noticed and decided to help them, then after a bit of help with the puzzles and going into snowdin town they met monster kid, like immediately walked up to them and became friends in an instant, they’re best friends with monster kid and wouldn’t change that, having no where to stay (and not wanting to leave snowdin yet) they stayed with the skelebros, long story short they ended up getting adopted by sans and are now officially considered their family! papyrus in this au while being somewhat bad at cooking, is really good at baking and likes to make frisk cookies and sweets, when they want real food, sans makes them the food instead of deciding to just do nothing, though occasionally if he’s to tired he takes them to grillbys

overtime frisk becomes close with pretty much the entire underground and does help them escape, chara, is very well known and honored, they have a place dedicated to them on the surface decorated in flowers and things they like, and their locket was left there as a remembrance thing

frisk now lives with sans and papyrus on the surface, monsters and humans live peacefully and all that stuff, frisk does infact go to school but they don’t do a whole bunch there, but they do hang out with monster kid a lot!

there will be a full story eventually just please be patient :) if you like this au tho you should totally follow, or don’t, both is ok! :D i just hope you love this au as much as i do :3

i made this au, and share it with my friend @_sploogezz on insta who you should totally check out, they’re so cool!! :D

i kindly ask that NO ONE ships frans in this, even if you do age frisk up it is still weird as they grew up around sans CANONICALLY IN GAME, and canonically in this au are adopted by him. frans is not welcome here and never will be.

there is no fontcest don’t worry and no really weird ships :) but if you wanna ship people, go ahead! just don’t be weird :/ (again, NO frans is welcome here and most definitely no fontcest.)

i hope you like this silly little au as much as i do :3

[reactionimagesdaily]

The Image Tags Masterpost

(As its own post thanks to a suggestion from @oregano-gremlin! gracias)

Every image is tagged with one of these tags, for organisation purposes! ^_^

(Also It’d be a HUGE pain to go back and re-organise them so, while suggestions for new categories/adjustments to existing ones are appreciated, I’m almost definitely not gonna follow through on any of them.)

(Also I am uh. Putting this under a read-more because it’s longer than I thought it was gonna be when it’s all laid out lmao)

#[undefinable] - for images that don’t really fit into a single mood, or have a mood that isn’t accurately represented by one of the other tags

#;_; - for images that are the big sad

#Hell yah - for celebratory, “nice”-type images

#Hell nah - for images that simply embody the concept of “no”, “no thanks”, “not for me”, e.t.c.

#Frick the frack off - slightly violent images used to tell someone to begone or that they are unimpressive

#Y’all are heathens - images that demonstrate disdain, confusion, or general contempt for your group chat

#Ah shit - images that convey “oh fuck”, “oh no”, “oh heck”, “oh shit”, and so on

#Depression time - for images that can be used to either show genuine sadness, or a weary sort of “oh God” that is less emotive and more resigned than an #Ah shit image

#Huzzah - celebratory images

#w h a t - images which convey just. total incredulity and bafflement

#F - for images that pay respects

#ooh-de-lally - images to be used for things that are exciting, spicy, or generally just make your eyebrow quirk up a bit

#Cursed - cursed images

#Wow - images that either convey a sense of genuine wonder, or demonstrate like. “yeah cool story bro”

#I LOVE YOU!!! - images you can use to show affection to any loved ones you are fortunate enough to have

#Welp - for images that aren’t very emotive or very specific, but rather channel that face you make when someone’s talking about something and you have no real idea how to react

#Genuine mirth - images that express, well, genuine mirth

#Contemplation time - I like to think this one is self-explanatory lmao

#Horny on main - not for NSFW stuff so much as stuff where it’s just a guy saying “hehe boobies” or whatever

#:) - happy pickturs

#Fear - fear

#Called out - honestly this one’s a bit inconsistent but it’s either for when you yourself have been called out (“you got me there”) or for when you’re calling someone ELSE out (“cool motive, still murder”)

#Free Real Estate - for images based off of those legendary seconds

#Gratitude amigo - images that say thanks

#Trans rights - because trans rights are human rights

#Disgustan’ - for when you need to express disgust with an image

#Disney - images @ that specific megacorp

#I am so great - images for when you’re proclaiming your own greatness (or at least an amount of self-satisfaction)

#Stole your meme lol - for those images you see everywhere on twitter indicating that someone likes your meme/image and have saved it for their own use

#Genuine reassurace - images that express, well, genuine reassurance

#[Music stops] - there are lot of parodies of the initial “music stops” image, and I have many of them

#Gweetings - images that say hi

#I will cause problems on purpose - images with those vibes

#Ambivalent - because sometimes you need to visually express how little you care

#Bog Moss - this is actually the tag for images that are like “mood” or “same” - I tag them ‘bog moss’ because of an inside joke lmao

#Mockery - bully your friends with this specific collection

#Please exercise empathy - for images that basically say “I don’t know how to expain to you that you should care about other people”

#Nice music - images dedicated to saying that specifically music is good

#Sic ‘em - for images that carry a similar energy to Mayor Tyler from Gravity Falls going ‘git ‘em! git ‘em!’

#Grooving - images that convey the emotion of dancing

#You are not immune to propaganda - I have no idea where that edit of Garfield came from, but there are LOADS of edits, so they all get their own category

#Think of the economy - for images designed to satirise people who prioritise stonks and the economy (which CAN be important, I won’t knock ‘em) over human life

#Silence! - you know that image of the crab lasering something? Yeah, there are a bunch of those, so they get their own category

#Genuine wrath - images that express, well, genuine wrath

#Pretty sus NGL - images designed to help convey suspect or suspicion

#Gotta go fast - images that go quick nyoom

#Ight Imma head out - parting is such sweet sorrow, as these images will demonstrate

#Case Closed - for image that indicate that some kind of mystery has been solved, or that some kind of question has been answered

#Not-okay cute things - for those images where it’s like, a plush toy captioned with “I can’t fucking take it”. those sorts of images. they have a category

#Oucho - for images that convey pain but aren’t quite in the realm of ;_;

#Ok boomer - Y'all remember ok boomer?

#Chillaxing - for image that surmize a specific chillaxed vibe

#Nice dub - using this one for pics of that one specific guy in all those pictures where he’s congratulating people’s Ws and Dubs

[winterwhisperz-blog]

Hi, I really like your blog. I recently just found it, and I was wondering if you could do a part 2 of TouchStarved Characters reacting to MC, drawing themselves. Especially with Vere. Skip if you want to, anyway. Have a nice day. And make sure to eat, sleep, and drink some water.

HI HI !!! I am, so sorry for taking forever, I’ve still been in a huge writing slump )): BUT

I HAVE finally triumphed !! Thank you so much for the ask <333 I’m rlly happy u like my blog !! And I hope you have a nice day too !

Now les get into it !!

Leander, Mhin, And Vere Reacting to Mc Drawing them (a Sequel)

Warnings: Vere is flirty, a person gets snatched away in Vere’s too, (it’s played in comedic effect but just in case) maybe OOC

Notes: GN Mc, Fluff

Vere

ALR ALR ALR so, as we know, Vere draws. So having you two be like, drawing pals/couple ??? Muah muah

But I think it’d be really really funny, if he didn’t find out until you guys walk by a wanted poster—you both know who the subject is, but OMG THEY DO N O T look like that 🤨 also the lines??? So messy— effort ??? None

Determined to correct them, you stomp away, on the lookout to find the Wanted.

You find them waltzing out of a brothel, which is where you and Vere jump em.

Letting out a screech, (either that screech being from you or the Wanted that’s up to you. Could be a battle cry idk) you stuff them in a bag before quickly running off.

Vere of course, has no idea why you WANTED this random person, but he definitely wasn’t going to object to doing a crime with you <33

Plopping the Wanted into your room, you dramatically whisk off the bag, revealing a very frightened, and now hostile fellow.

“MC?? I thought we were FRIENDS, why the hell are you turning me in?”

You shush them, settling down in front, butter-fly legs as you slam open your sketchbook.

“I’m not turning you in, I’m redrawing your wanted poster.”

….

…..

“….What?”

“Vere, keep ‘em still!”

“Yes, darling~”

Your partner in crime does just that, and with your combined efforts, you successfully redraw the wanted poster. Now, it being far more accurate.

Which uhhh, did result in the fellow being captured, BUT— that’s not the point.

The point is, Vere now knows you can draw. And very well he might add!! Despite if your style is realistic or not, the wanted poster was STELLAR

And now as you’re back in your room, duty done, Vere droops himself seductively across the floor, any remaining sunlight catching the pink of his eyes and red of his hair.

“…what are you doing?”

“It’s my turn now,”

You raise a brow, “You want me to draw you a wanted poster?”

He rolls his eyes, running a hand through his long hair. “No, dummy. You can’t keep a secret like this from me and not use me as your new muse.”

“I wasn’t keeping it a secret—“

“Go on, i can’t stay in this position all day.”

Sighing, you kneel down, getting to work. “What am I going to do with you?”

Vere hums, and you know a flirt is coming before he says it. “Oh, MC, I have a list of things you can do with me~”

“Hopefully starting with throwing you in horny jail.”

“Rude.”

You snicker, returning to delicately sketching the details of Vere into the paper.

You draw the playful lift of his lips, the needle like pupils, and the deeper, maybe even rare soft side that he hides beneath flirts and cool remarks.

Once you’re done, Vere leans over your shoulder, humming his approval. A part of him, is both touched and uncomfortable how you managed to capture a side of him he didn’t commonly show.

After this, the two of you would often take turns drawing each other.

Leander

ALR ALR SO, WE ALL KNOW Eridia is like, dreary and cloudy all the time—and to set the scene—it’s storming—walls of rain slash against the roof of the Wet Wick (dang-it rlly be wet now. UHHH pls don’t hate me for that joke 😚)

The bloodhounds had been out doing jobs, leaving you with far less people to greet when walking downstairs.

Leander sits by the counter, large figure shadowed by the darkness cast by the storm. His eyes glowing eerily green in the shade, especially since he looks so deep in thought. His brows lightly furrow, his lips hinting at a frown.

You feel awfully like you’ve spotted something you weren’t supposed to. Especially since…there’s actually no one else around. You hear the faint snores of any other none-bloodhounds occupants still in their rooms, but otherwise it’s hushed against the drum of thunder.

Afraid of breaking some kind of spell, you stay where you are—though, you do tilt your head, taking in every angle of the scene in front of you.

…dang this would make a pretty cool sketch

Like a hesitant deer, you take quiet steps back up the stairs before returning, just as quietly with your sketchbook and pencils.

Though uhhh, Leander is no longer where you left him.

Curious, you take the rest of the steps down before searching the dark. Your only company being the crashing and howling of the outside storm—

“Good morning, MC!”

Out of pure terror, you scream and swing the sketchbook at the voice.

You’re greeted with low laughter and glittering green eyes as Leander reaches for the book, gently taking it from your hands.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright, MC? Did the storm wake you?”

You shake your head, a little thrown by the shift in tone—from laughter to genuine concern. You take your sketchbook back, but not until he’s caught interest.

“You draw?”

“How did you know it was a sketchbook?”

“I caught a glimpse when you whacked me.”

He laughs again, the deep sound nearly matching the thunder above. You feel oddly light when hearing it, though it sends a chill down your back.

For a distraction, you glance outside, the flash of lightning sparking worry into your chest.

“Will the bloodhounds be okay out there?”

Leander frowns, looking a bit confused, perhaps a little irritated before his smile quickly returns to his face. “Oh, they’ll be fine. You can’t live in Eridia without expecting storms.”

And before you can say more, he gestures to the sketchbook.

“What were you thinking of drawing?”

Ah, right. You shift on your feet, feeling a little awkward. You’ve asked to draw people before, and uhhh, with a few different reactions. Some thought it was weird, others annoyingly prodded at you to draw them before you even asked, (then changed your mind) and others kept whatever drawings you did like treasure.

You can’t guess how Leander will react to the question, but you end up asking anyway.

He receives the request with a bit of fluster, a flirt or two, before asking how you want him to pose. You decide you want to capture the moment you saw before—him standing in the dark like some kind of gothic statue, hoping you can somehow sketch in the magic and eerie wonder he had emitted.

Once you were finished, he definitely showed the picture to everyone he could—boasting at how talented you were…and how you chose him for a muse.

Mhin

ALR ALR, to balance out how kinda creepy Leander’s was 🧍🏻‍♀️ like man was just standing there in the dark like a WEIRDO—I wanted to do something cuter with Mhin’s.

So so so, this is for Mhin’s birthday. You know they like sweets, but wonder if they would appreciate a portrait instead

You’ve sketched them before, when they’ve taken care of the stray cats, when they’ve sat beside you in silence, just enjoying your company—but you wanted to make this special

So, after finding them after a little merry soulless hunt, you two get started on your little birthday plan. Mhin, to actually convince them to join you, Is completely unaware of said plan.

You just give excuse after excuse, like how starving you are and how you’re only craving their favorite type of cookies, how you want to explore the city and conveniently wind up where the stars are most visible, and you have NO idea how this romantically set table even came from?? 😮

Eventually, they do understand what’s going on, and look away, arms folded.

“I told you we didn’t have to celebrate.”

“We didn’t have to, but I wanted to~”

They roll their eyes, but like always, you can spot that flush of pink coating their cheeks.

After dinner, you pat a spot next to you, and when Mhin sits down, you stare up at the stars above. Millions blinking down at the pair of you between thin, grey clouds.

Mhin gets absorbed in the sight soon enough, occasionally pointing out constellations and then rambling about them.

Giving you just enough time to get out your sketchbook and get to work. While ofc still listening, because you always do. Hearing Mhin nerd out about stars is one of your favorite things.

The night is cold, biting at your nose, but it doesn’t bother you. Especially when you feel a warm cloak wrapped around your shoulders.

You look up from your book to see Mhin settling back down, ponytail and white shirt now exposed to the night air. They raise a knee and shrug. “Don’t look at me like that, you looked cold.”

Smiling, you pull them closer, reaching out the cloak so it covers you both. “Thank you, you big softy.”

You hear them grumble, but also don’t ignore how they lean into your side. After awhile, they glance at what you’re sketching, face growing confused as they start to recognize the person in the drawing.

“What is—“

You let them take the book, their eyes wandering over every detail so carefully thought out and drawn in with every pencil stroke.

Them in the portrait sit, gaze watching the sky with a wonder you’ve had the honor to see. Their mouth is open, talking about things that are more beautiful thanks to how they explained them. A little beauty mark seated by their lips.

After a few moments of silence, you lean your head on their shoulder(or head if ur tall), finding comfort in the warmth of the shared cloak.

“Happy birthday, Mhin.”

They didn’t say much, but you can see the appreciation in their eyes. How they look at your drawing with the same amazement as they looked at the sky.

Forever wondering why you’d use this talent to draw them.

Maybe celebrating their birthday wasn’t so bad after all. (Especially if they get to spend it with you <3333)

ALR ALR WE HAVE REACHED THE END

Tysm for the ask!! Again, I’m so sorry for the wait.

Anyway, I hope you have an amazing day, stay cool and hydrated, see three heart shaped things in nature, and watch/read your favorite show/movie/book !!

[lemmetreatya]

Eren used to get mad when people mistook him for a girl (bc that boy looks so much like Carla and Yams even chose the name Eren because it sounded feminine). Now he doesn't really mind it. In fact he usually rubs it in his friends' faces because he is quote "the prettiest bitch out of all of you"

erens kinda embraced it now!! still a touchy subject for him but now hes kinda able to fight people off by throwing insults back jskskd

COD nights were always fun because it meant those were the times where the boys could get together, crash random lobbies, fish for the low skilled ones and then heavily level up their accounts.

Although tonight it looks like not a lot of people were free to troll or be trolled. Platform wise and party wise — tonight, it was just Eren, Connie and Jean on mic.

It’d gotten to that point of the game where no one really wanted to play anymore and so they were all idly waiting in their own party lobby.

Boredly scrolling through random Instagram filters and taking pictures with them, Eren sighed as he aimlessly sent them to the groupchat.

He hadn’t thought anything of it, usually the guys would open them and just heart emote it — or if they were feeling silly, use a poop or thumbs down emoji. But since he was on the mic already, Connie voiced his opinion aloud.

“Those filters make you look like yo’ mama!”

Not thinking much of it, Eren didn’t concentrate on the remark, but it’s when he heard Jean snickering in the back that he leaned forwards in his chair.

“Wait, Con. You talking ‘bout me?”

“Yeah, you! That shit you sent into the chat with all them filters on.”

Jean started laughing again but this time in joint with Connie. The two of them were cackling greasy laughs as their volume levels wobbled in and out.

“Awoogaaaa! Hellooo Mrs. Jaeger!” He wolfed into Eren’s ears.

The brunette’s face scrunched in annoyance.

Oh, so they were on piss tonight?

With a kiss of his teeth, Eren fixed his mic closer to his mouth so that his next words would come out crunchy on the other end.

“Ayo, at least I look like her. You don’t look like any of your folks. You sure you not adopted?”

Suddenly, the laughter ceased. With a grin on his face, Eren nodded as he sat back in his seat.

Yeah, that’ll teach em, he thinks.

However, Connie’s next words had dampened the mood even more.

“Bro, that shit ain’t cool. I don’t look like them because I am adopted.”

Eren’s face dropped.

There was an acute silence on the party channel.

A low “Fuuuuuck…” was heard in the background on Jean’s end. His channel went flat after the click of a mute button.

Slightly gobsmacked, Eren quickly laid a hand over his mouth before uncovering it and talking a lot more softly into his microphone piece.

“Ah. Shit, dawg. I’m sorry, I didn’t know—”

“Ha! Gotcha! I’m not adopted, bitch!”

Connie was once again bellowing within the chat. His laughter would have been infectious had he not tricked Eren into feeling sympathy for him with priorly insulting him and his mother.

Rolling his eyes, Eren retorted back.

“That’s not something to joke about though.”

“But that’s equally as reason why you can’t go round saying people look loaned.” He said back.

Eren made a confused face towards his television screen but to no one in particular.

“Loaned?! That’s an even worse way to put it!”

A click sounded within the party call which indicated the unmuting of Jean’s channel.

“Adopted people aren’t ‘loaned’, Connie. They’re legally under that guardian’s care as much as a biological child would be.”

Quickly accommodating to Jean’s admission of serious tone, Eren dropped the humorous attitude before bartering on his friend’s side.

“Yeah, you’re probably thinking of fostering. That’s the one where it’s just temporary stay.” Eren finished.

Thankfully understanding the change in tone, Connie’s voice sounded much lower as he hummed in understanding the concept.

“Ah, I get it.”

There was a comfortable silence for a few seconds. As party leader, Eren took the initiative to plunge the group into a lobby search without clarifying seeing as nothing else was being said.

Just as the game was loading in, Connie quietly said into the mic:

“You still look like your mama though.”

>> c0nnie_thec0nman69 was kicked from the voice chat. <<

[nerves-nebula]

Knowing that he has memory problems does neglected Raph struggle to trust his own judgment?

Like not even just for things gaps in memories makes sense to hinder. I’m talking even when he knows stuff or when memory doesn’t factor in at all, he knows he can’t trust his mind on some things so he struggles to trust it at all

If so, does he ever recover from all that?

(Side note: it’d be super interesting to see them face a villain like Mother May-Eye from Teen Titans 2003)

here's the thing about raph, Raph doesn't trust ppl other than his brothers, april, and casey, so he wouldn't let someone else fact check him, but that doesn't mean he doesn't doubt his own memories. especially since Donnie has rambled at length about how fallible memories are.

There more than a few times where Raph has a memory of something, but Splinter kind of tweaks it or implies it was just ever so slightly different in away that changes things. and if Raph is like "wait that's not what happened" Splinter would imply he doesn't know what he's talking about. never calling him crazy outright, just saying he's remembering it wrong. but isn't it kind of weird that, for some reason, Raph's memory is always "wrong" in a way that benefits Splinter? (Mom Reference)

so anyway, Raph doesn't like being told he remembered something wrong cuz of that, so that's why he only lets his close friends check him and might get aggro if someone he doesn't know well casually implies he's remembering something wrong. (this includes stuff as small as someone saying "i think you remembered this wrong" or "that's not what I remember" even just really small stuff like that can trigger him)

But his defensiveness is just because he does genuinely worry that since he forgets things so much, there's a chance the solid memories he DOES have aren't real. and if that's true then like what is he even doing, right? like how can he be a person in a meaningful way if the things his internal experiences and emotions are based on aren't real? That's what he thinks, at least.

i watched the mother may-eye episode to answer this ask so im gonna address that under the cut now:

I forgot how good the teen titans theme song is. also i forgot about the hive five they're are so fucking cool i wish i was every character in this show wtf. also why that guy sexually harass starfire. kinda like that starfire appears to swear all the damn time but since it's alien swears no one cares.

and the DAY is SAVED by the power of THATS NOT HOW CONCUSSIONS WORKS <3 my favorite storytelling technique tbh. just hit 'em on the head i'm sure it'll work out fine.

SLUR in early 2000's children media: OBSERVED.

really fucked up that they gave it to the Hive Five not knowing if they were gonna escape or get baked or anything. that's. wild.

there's something about a villain who forcibly makes you regress to a childlike state in order to manipulate you that is so fucking uncomfortable, oh my god. especially when they use, like, overly cutesy language. if i did something like that to the neglected gang it would be really gross. so i might do that later then, idk.

[avissapiens]

Avis Abstraction #6: Gym buds

You are now friends with Mason Reed. You can now message and call each other and see info like Active Status and when you've read messages.

                                         Oct 26th 2044

Me: Hey bro Mason: Heyyy dude haha. Nice to finally meet you Me: Same. ngl i was kinda scared about signing up for the abyss. Thought they’d hook me up with someone i couldn’t vibe with.

Mason: lol. Yh i’m chill. Tho you’re lucky. I didn’t even know about that weird chip thing. Shit hurt when they put it in. did you feel like…tingles too?Me: Yh i did. Was kinda like getting an electric shock but good?? Mason: Weird. Guess we’re gym buds now tho. Can’t wait til we can workout. My weeks a little packed but i’ll defo hit you up when i’m headed to The abyss Me: Sweet dude. We can hash out our split and everything another time. Mason: For sure bro.

                                      Oct 29th 2044 Me: Yo dude, are you on your way to the gym? Mason: yeah actually. I just got off work and thought i’d do a really quick chest workout. How’d you know haha? Me: Idk..i just kinda felt it. Maybe that’s one of the chip functions? No clue. I’m already on my way now tho if you wanna train together Mason: Damn dude yeah i’d love that! So strange, as soon as you said that I got super hyped up. Me: Awesome bro. I’m like 5 mins away. You get warmed up and I’ll chug some preworkout.

Oct 30th 2044 Mason: dude what days do you train? I’m thinking bout changing up my work schedule so i can gym more. Last night was the fuckin best workout i’ve ever had in my life! Me: IKR. God i broke so many of my PRs. The pump is insane. Still sore haha Mason: How about we hit it 6 days a week. It was really awesome to just hang and vibe in the gym ya kno. Me: yeah dude i’d be down for that Mason: Sick, i’ll call my manager to see if he can schedule me different. So pumped Me: Nice. So what are we training today bro? Legs Mason: Legs Mason: Yooo basically in sync nice haha. Me: Lol. See you in an hour? Mason: bet

Nov 5th 2044 Me: Yo Mason: I know.. Me: you know what? Mason: I know what you’re feeling bro. I feel it too. But fuuuuck its rest dayyy. I just wanna train with you. This week alone has been one of the best weeks of gym EVER. Idk if its just the chip talking but damn I love training with you. Me: Wanna head to the gym. Just do something light? Maybe get a protein shake after? Mason: Already packing my bags. ------------------------------------------- Dec 8th 2044 Mason: Bro killer workout today. We were fucking monstrous. Mason: I had a chat with the Gym owner and he says we’re progressing faster than the majority of the other Chipped dudes. Me: Yo really? That feels amazing to know fuck…like really amazing. Gotta work harder. Blow away the competition dude 💪💪 Mason: Yeah. Honestly i see it dude. You’re looking fucking massive lately Me: No way brah. You’ve been bulking like a madman these last couple months [Mason Sent a Picture]

Mason: It’s all you bro. Wouldn’t be at this level without your help. Next year’s gonna be crazy.

Jan 6th 2045 Mason: No homo bro, but your pecs are looking so fucking massive. I swear every time i saw you flex em my chip went off like crazy. Just bolting lol. Me: Oh yeah bro 😏? Mason: Yh Mason: Broooo noo stop it shittt i can feel that in my chip. Me: LOL OMG i didn’t know it could do that. That’s so fucking cool Mason: haha..yeah. Just like chill with it ok bro Mason: STOP Me: ok ok lol. These fucking chips are wild bro. Don’t even know how most of the stuff works yet. Me: woah dude wtf are you doin? Mason: I know you’re jelly of my god quads so i was trying to get you back. Guess it worked lol Me:Lol. Fucking love you bro Me: No homo Mason: lil homo? Me: haha Mason: Ya know bro, i’ve got room in my apartment. Maybe we should like room together? It’d make setting up workouts super easy Me: really dude? That’d be great! Lets hash it out some more tomorrow for Pull day. Mason: Totally

March 20th 2045 Me: hey bro.. Mason: Yo dude, wassup? I’m loving spring break in Fiji. Having a great time Me: Thats nice…you gotta get back here bro.. Mason: Wdym? Me: Its torture just like Me: IDK man. I try to keep working out. I try to keep the pump up, but jesus. Going to the gym without you is miserable Me: I feel weaker. Smaller. Fuck i feel like my chip is punishing me every time i enter that building without you. But then when i don’t go it’s like my entire brain is being eaten from the inside Me: It feels so fucking bad. I just wanna kneel and never get up. So hard to keep going Me: Please bro. I know It’s a lot to ask but just hurry home. I miss you. I miss us… Mason: Okay bro. I know what you mean. Hang in there for a few more days. I’ve been missing the pump too and the gyms here don’t really seem to hit as hard as ours anyway. Me: I’ll try. I promise. Going crazy here. Thanks bro Mason: I’ll bring you back something from Fiji. Can’t wait to lift with you again.

-------------------------------------------- May 1st 2045 Mason: Hey dude are you busy? Me: ? yeah bro i’m just out in the living room. Wassup? Want me to come to you? Mason: NO. Don’t Mason: I can’t look at you right now Me: Okay??.. Mason: Idk what it is bro..I think its the chip but fuck Mason: The last few gym sessions we’ve had Mason: I see you and the weight you’re lifting and the progress you’ve made Mason: And then i look at my own progress Mason: And I just get…fucking upset? Mason: Because you’re not progressing fast enough dude. It’s making me look bad Me:Bro wtf?! Mason: Look at this [Mason sent a picture]

Mason:I’m fucking massive compared to you. All the other chipped bros look on par with each other, but i’ve got 15 lbs on your ass. Me: Yeah…i guess.. Mason: We’ve gotta work harder bro. I fucking love you. I can’t have you being weaker than me. It makes me sick. Makes me fucking angry Me: Yeah, we’re chipped for life. There’s no going back Me: FUCK Mason: Feel that? Exactly. You’ve gotta get back on my level bro. Otherwise, well… Mason: I can feel the chip bro. Mason: I don’t like what it’s making me feel Mason: But i’ll act on it if it goes on long enough Me: Thanks bro. I needed this. I’ll be better, I promise…For you. Mason: For us..💙 Me: For us...Can I still come to your room dude? Mason: Sure bro. Calmed down a bit...think we might lose the deposit on the place tho..Ignore the holes..

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

Jul 17th 2045 Me: Bro? Me: Bro??? Me: Mason dude where tf are you i’ve been waiting at the gym for like an hour Me: i’m just gonna start bro. Me: Mason bro wtf’s going on is your chip acting up? Me: Fuck. Fuk bro Me: Stop whatever you’re doing bro thats not funny. Me:Cut it out! Me: Fuck me dude what is this

Jul 18th 2045 Mason: Sorry bro. My bad. Guess i shoulda told you. Me: Tld m wut bro? My chipz ben goin off all fucking nt Me: Fuk can barelt tyoe. Bods liek pulsing. cnt thinkkk Mason: I heard from one of the other chipped dudes down at the gym that there was a guy upstate who’s been jailbreaking the chips. Installing cool new firmware updates. He said he Only needed one of us cause the softwares connected, but i guess you need to go too. Me: WTF bro thts so fucked up! Hw cud u di tht Mason: Tho if i’m being honest. I don’t really need an update. You were the one lagging behind bro. Lets just keep it like this for a bit and see what happens Me: Cnyoujuststopthepingigbro Mason: Haha sorry. I think that’s the roider protocol. Supposed to send a shiver every time your chipbro thinks about getting bigger. Guess i’ve had one thing on my mind all night. My bad Mason: K should be good Me: This is high-key fucked mason. Mason: Wanna go the gym? Me: fuck…yes. Me: I’m getting my gear ready. See you in 20 mins..fucker. Mason: Oh bro btw [Mason sent a picture]

Me: fucking hell bro. Ok 10 mins

The Model for this one is Alex Price. Check him out. And If you want to support the creation of more hypnotic experiences and writing, then you can do so by subscribing to my Patreon, or to my Youtube channel. And if you want to interact more closely with me and my supportive community you can join my Discord server. And check out my file archive on my website.