#like to me that is so impressive and is genuinely something we should encourage and celebrate (no matter if english is/was a first language)

[uncanny-tranny]

Hi! I figured out I'm nonbinary, but I have no idea where to start? There are so many genders and it's wonderful, but I only know what pronouns I use and that would be enough, but it's been bugging me recently, any tips or anything of the sort? (Sorry for bad English)

It can be important for some to figure out how exactly they feel best fits them, and in those cases, it can be really beneficial to seek out other nonbinary people who talk about or discuss their experiences with gender. I think this is important because, at times, it can be hard to articulate how you feel, and others can really help you put those feelings into words. One of the reasons I learned a lot more about my sexuality was investing my time into learning about sexuality from other people, and I think the same can be said for gender, gender presentation, and labels.

You don't need a gender label if you aren't ready for it, but I also don't want to discourage you from exploring how you feel. Take this at your pace, and just know that whatever labels you decide fit you are completely fine and are neutral at worst. You deserve the language it takes for you to communicate to yourself and others who you are. I believe in you and I wish you the best of luck! You are welcome in these spaces, you are wanted and needed because you are part of this world with us.

[bueckers-sturniolo]

the alchemy.

paige x fem!teammate! reader

word count: 2k!

warnings: uhhh, cursing? literally one suggestive-ish comment, if i think of anymore ill come back and lyk!

authors note: HIIII! this is my first time ever writing anything whatsoever, and i can’t tell if i genuinely enjoy or really hate this. you gotta start somewhere though, right? 🤔🤔🤔

go read part two here!

this happens once every few lifetimes; these chemicals hit me like white wine…

you and paige were inseparable. it didn’t go unnoticed by fans, not by any means. you were a year younger than paige, you started playing for uconn her sophomore year. as soon as this was announced, paige followed you on everything, immediately commenting on any post the uconn instagram page made about you, commenting something along the lines of just saying your name in all caps with a bunch of emojis, or even, when she was feeling bold, “Theres our girl! 🤩🙌 (or, ‘my girl’ if she was feeling silly that day),” and even on your own, individual posts about yourself, she’d like and comment some form of encouragement or a subtle compliment just to hype you up, as she does the rest of the team.

she couldn’t deny her nearly unbearable attraction toward the minute she first had laid eyes on you. even if it was over a tiny screen. the first time she saw you was when geno had shown the team videos of you playing and explained to them who you are, where you’re from, what position you play, and all other things they should know. you were around 5’10, and you were a point guard. you had gotten a scholarship to uconn, and obviously, you took it up. the first time paige physically saw you play, she knew you two would become close. not only working together on the court, during games and practices, but also, off of the court.

and you guys did. by the time the season started, you were sure you guys were unstoppable. every practice, you guys were fully locked in, becoming an outstanding duo together. that is, until, she got a tibial plateau fracture. she sat out a whopping 19 games after her surgery, and it was sad to see. she was such a powerful player, and now one of your best friends. games and practices didn’t feel nearly as good without her, but she made you promise that you’d work everyday to improve your already very strong talent, to play for ‘the both of you,’ as she said. she’d come to practices, games, and even just to your personal training sessions to provide some form of support.

what if I told you I’m back? the hospital was a drag, worst sleep that I ever had, I circled you on a map; I havent come around in so long, but im coming back so strong.

as soon as paige was cleared by doctors to begin playing again, she worked several hours, every single day. she came back as a fucking beast. since the day she got cleared and started working her ass off, she earned the nickname ‘sniper’ from you. your nickname for her was ‘killer,’ which, is kinda where she got the idea for sniper. you both were very powerful point guards. every day since she came back, you were amazed by just how hard she was working to get back up to her already impressive level of skill. and as time went on, she got even better than before. from the wise words of your guys’ coach, geno, she literally ‘came back better than she was when she was named player of the year.’

so when I touch down, call the amateurs and cut ‘em from the team, ditch the clowns, get the crown. baby, im the one to beat. cause the sign on your heart said it’s still reserved for me. honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

one night, after a practice, you guys are sitting on your couch, scrolling on your phones in the living room of your apartment. she was over there often. you didn’t live in a dorm, but she did, so this is where you typically hung out. you didn’t get a dorm, for mainly one reason, living on campus is expensive. you personally thought that if you were gonna pay so much to live somewhere, might as well be somewhere bigger than the dorms at uconn. your parents somehow agreed, and helped you through paying for it your first few years. you’re now a junior, and paige is a senior. though, she was technically going into her junior year of playing basketball, but it was her last year as a uconn ‘student.’ over the past several months, it’s been…. flirty, to say the least. you’ve always been not ‘just friends,’ but, you never talked about it. it was just ‘normal’ to you guys. you had talked about to kk once, and the conversation didn’t really help. at all. not in the fucking slightest.

“well, i mean… yeah, we all notice it. she just…. acts so different around you…? it’s not a bad difference, per se… it’s just like, why the fuck is she so nice to you? she’s constantly like… on her knees praising you. it’s crazy, lowkey. but none of us wanna say that, so we kinda just have accepted it all season.” kk says, finally looking up from her phone at me, sitting on the edge of her bed, giving her a ‘please help me’ look.

i stare at her for a few seconds, then sigh. is it actually different? does she really do that, or is kk just exaggerating, like she always does?

“kk, i don’t- i don’t know, dude. i don’t notice it. it’s just- like-“ kk interrupts me, knowing i couldn’t find the words to explain what i was feeling, “normal to you?”

i nod, putting my face in my hands and letting out another sigh. “yeah, i get that. but, also… like, how do you not notice it? it’s like- remember that guy she said she had a crush on, like- 7 months ago or some shit?” she said, sighing.

“yeah, why?” i say, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion on where the fuck she could possibly be going with this.

“she literally flirted with you more than she flirted with him. then, she rejected him, and said there was ‘no reason behind it….’ is that not suspiscious to you? in that one picture of you guys and the weird ass dude she apparently liked, she’s leaning closer to you than she is him? does that not even slightly spark a tad bit of suspiscion?” kk says, getting frustrated that im not seeing her point here.

“i mean- no? i didn’t even notice it, kk.” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “exactly my point,” kk says, sitting up to really try to get her point across. “she acts like she’s in love with you, and heaven forbid you notice it even slightly. i could name so many things that just, like- we have all noticed, and paige knows we’ve noticed. like, that time that one bitch was pushing you on the court the entire game, and paige eventually got pissed off and pushed her back off of you, then got a fucking technical foul over it…? or, how about when she gets drunk, she literally is all over you. like, hugging you, holding you, falling asleep on the couch with you literally on top of her? is that not somehow making you just use that little brain in your head?” kk says, and i just stare in thought. maybe she was right. maybe it is more than a close friendship.

you snap out of your thoughts as paige says your name, looking over at her. “yeah?” you say, trying to seem cool.

“are you okay? you just spaced out for like…. 10 minutes…” paige says, turning her phone off sitting her it down on her chest. “oh, yeah,” I say, chuckling. that’s fucking embarrassing, you thought. but why wouldn’t she notice it? she notices everything about you.

“y’know… you did really good today,” paige says smiling at you. you smile too, looking down at your hands, “thanks. you literally always do good, so. no point in boosting your ego any more than it already is.” you say, looking back up to meet her gaze.

“i call you killer for a reason, you know that, right? you’re fucking phenomenal.” and she meant it. you were a goddess, in her eyes. if there was any person closest to heaven on this earth. it’s you. everything about you. she couldn’t get enough of you, and if it was up to her, she’d show you just how perfect you are to her. you smile, shaking your head in disbelief. “you’re insane.”

“im literally complimenting you, idiot- how does this make me insane,” paige says, laughing. you shrug, shaking your head. “you know, you’re my bestfriend, right? like, the best, best-friend i’ve ever had? ” paige says, after a few seconds of silence. you look back up, your gaze softening, your big grin also softening into a sweet smile. kk was right, you thought. you knew what that was. you knew what she meant. she is in love.

hey, you. what if I told you we’re cool? that child’s play back in school is forgiven under my rule. i havent come around in so long, but I’m making a come-back to where I belong.

you sit in your room in silence, staring at the ceiling. you keep replaying things in your mind, things she’s said. things she’s done. you knew you liked girls, you knew you liked paige. but, at what cost? did your whole friendship form from the attraction you guys had from the start? was this random to her? were you guys ever going to talk about it? this whole situation is ridiculous. right now, paige is visiting her family in minnesota. you’ve met them before, and you loved her little brother, drew, like your own brother. he was precious to you. but, this time you didn’t go, you had to stay back and practice. which, sounds ridiculous to paige given that you’re already the best player in the world to her. but, you knew you’d been slacking on practicing and certain skills you were supposed to be good at. you didn’t want to let her down. or the team, of course. but, paige specifically.

these bloakes warm the benches, we’ve been on a winning streak. (s)he jokes that it’s heroin but this time with an ‘e.’

today, you guys had a game. you were always pretty hard on yourself, but, today was worse. paige noticed this, quickly. as she always does. right before halftime, you shoot a three. you make it, but, it still was kinda sloppy. not all of your shots were sloppy, of course. but, today you felt like shit and were on your period. you didn’t feel great, and you were pissed off that the girl guarding you was on your ass all damn game. the girl in question was no other than kate martin, who was always on your ass specifically, when you guys played iowa. it was infuriating, and not to mention that you kept getting fouls called on you by a ref who clearly doesn’t realize that kate won’t stay off of your case. as soon as half-time hits, you walk over to the bench, muttering a ‘holy fucking shit’ under your breath. you sit down, paige immediately following after you, sitting beside you.

“hey, killer…. it’s okay, i promise. you’re doing so, so good.” paige says, leaning closer to you trying to reassure you in a soft, gentle tone.

“doesnt feel like it.” you say, grumpily, grabbing your water and taking a drink of it. “i know, but hey,” she says, smiling. “you’re fuckin’ killing it. if it makes you feel any better, you scored and knocked her down because of how close she was to you, maybe she’ll back off. but…” she says, pausing. “do not get a tech because of her.” you look over at her, slowly nodding. “yeah, im trying. but, the next time she gets in my face, i’m knocking her to the fucking ground again.” you say, quietly. paige smiles, “no being too aggressive… i mean, yes, be aggressive. but, no techs.”

“yeah, yeah. okay, idiot face. i’ll try.” you say and paige smiles wider, shaking her head.

as the game continues, we’re up by a solid two points. youre now in the last 45 seconds of the game. iowa has the ball, clark scores a 3 on paige. of fucking course, you think.

kk gets the rebound, and we get the ball, finally. with now only 30 seconds left, you’re panicking. you’re losing by one damn point. geno calls a time out out to the ref, the ref granting him this and you all huddle over. paige leans over to you, mumbling a, “you’ve got this, killer. im leaving this up to you. you won’t let me down.” you smile, nodding. she smiles at you for a few seconds. she is so whipped, and it’s obvious. you’re addicting. you’re like heroin, but with a fucking ‘e,’ paige thinks.

shirts off, and your friends lift you up over their heads. beer sticking to the floor, cheers chanted, cause they said, “there was no chance, tryna be the greatest in the league.” where’s the trophy? (s)he just comes runnin’ over to me.

as the game resumes, the ball is passed to paige. 15 seconds. the time is ticking, so, so fast. paige does a pump fake, immediately passing the ball to you. you catch it, turning slightly so you can dribble around martin, who’s still on your ass. you nearly lose the ball. you’re wasting too much time time, you think. you glance up at the clock. 5 seconds. you try to think fast, then quickly preform a fake pass to paige, then as soon as kate turns her attention toward paige, you shoot directly behind the point the three-point line, and you make it. the buzzer sounds. you look over at the score counters, wondering if it’s able to be counted. they announce it is, and you feel like you’ve never been happier than in that damn moment. your entire team is screaming, all of the fans in the bleachers standing up and cheering. you place your hands on your knees, leaning down and panting while smiling. that’s when you see paige, her shirt is lifted up so her stomach is showing, still cheering. smiling ear to ear, she suddenly runs over to you from across the court. she hugs you, picking you up and spinning you around.

this type of shit only happens once every few lifetimes. who are you to deny your love for her any longer? who are you to fight the general chemistry between you two? who are you to fight the alchemy?

a/n: RAHHHHHH I HOPE YOU LOVED IT IM SORRY IF IT SUCKS ASS!!!! IF YOURE READING THIS RN I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Hey. I think Killer and Error duo is being slept on. Dunno what dynamic they may have (don't have any thoughts) but something about these two makes me think that they'd get along (or at least, they would get along after initial first impressions)

Yeah, I think so too maybe. I also think that other than Color, Error is the one who actually encourages Killer to talk shit and complain about Nightmare with him.

Now im not too familiar with Error’s canon lore as of right now, but im familiar with the idea that he’s kinda a man child and sometimes had a tendency to throw tantrums.

I can see killer being uncomfortable (unsettled, nervous, confused, on edge, scared) by any huge displays of emotion, especially if they’re about or directed towards him, but he’d die before he admits to anything like that or expresses any genuine emotion and he doesn’t have the words to express any of it anyway because he doesn’t understand emotions or himself.

Killer’s more likely to decide that “something error does is influencing the soul/the body to behave differently and so I should stay away from being controlled” rather than anything like “this makes me uncomfortable.”

Because killer doesnt see himself as experiencing emotions in stage 2, and “himself” is in his mind and away from the body (which allows him to not really care what happens to the physical form so long as it operates well enough), he just thinks it’s the body behaving weird. Couldn’t be him, he can’t feel anything.

But I can see error trying to tune down the huge displays around killer eventually, maybe after a particularly huge and somewhat destructive tantrum of his drives killer to distance himself away from him. (Error seems rather lonely, and I doubt he’d want to lose his fellow nightmare-shit talking buddy.)

And another thing is that Error has issues with being touched, and killer relies on touch to determine if something is truly real or not.

And, uh, his stage 2 self doesn’t really understand boundaries naturally (or, a bit more accurately, he doesn’t see how they effect him) and therefore he can disrespect them; a lot of the time because he needs to tell if something is real or not or he’ll lose his damn mind again, other times because of a sense of curiosity or his deep seated need for control. He has a tendency to be like “boundaries for me, not for thee”—and we all saw how he manhandles swap.

So I can see just spending a lot of time just silently staring at error with his big doe black eyes while error yaps on, silent. And killer can’t really see shit well due to the goop from his sockets, so staring holes into error’s skull doesn’t make him seem any more real.

And of course error understandably flips his lid when he’s suddenly touched out of nowhere without his permission, probably stringing killer up in his strings and holding him up and away so he won’t touch him again. Only for killer to calmly slip right out of them because the strings don’t really affect him.

It’s gonna be like pulling teeth to get killer to explain why he did that, so this will probably be another period of rockiness in their relationship. Killer simply doesn’t like letting others know anything about him that he doesn’t want to willingly give, anything about his motives, genuine thoughts, goals.

And he doesn’t see what the issue is, although he recognizes that error is upset. He’ll probably say something to calm error down, something like “I won’t do it again,” without fully understanding the problem simply because, once again, the displays of emotion are making his body act weird. He doesn’t like the “control” error has over it. Killer knows how to people please and fawn when he needs to.

I don’t think he’ll willingly bring this interaction up with color to ask his trusted person to explain to him why this was an issue—simply because killer’s stage 2 self doesn’t often seek out emotional connection due to plain indifference and disinterest towards most people.

He doesn’t really care at this point if error doesn’t wanna talk to him again—just means that less chance of error’s emotions controlling his body again. (It’s the schizoid tendencies talking girl oh no he has headphones in he can’t hear us!!)

But color, being the absolute chad he is, recognizes that killer really needs more friends than him and error probably does too honestly. So instead color gently spends some time trying to encourage killer to just show some trust in others for once, and explain why he needs touch.

It takes awhile. Killer doesn’t get why he should explain himself to anyone that doesn’t have power over him, and no thank you to the idea of expressing himself. Color points out that error was willing to tone down the intensity of his outbursts, willing to adjust himself for killer’s comfort, because he wanted killer’s company.

Killer says error just wanted company. Not his company. Color gives killer a look and says, “being lonely and wanting company isn’t weakness.”

But it probably eventually happens. Color helps him write down the words, perhaps writes the definition for the derealization that killer was experiencing.

From there things probably get better for them. Error explains his phobia, killer says color told him he’s not supposed to touch people without permission. Error says he doesn’t give permission, and killer is quiet for a moment, before saying, “ok.”

Maybe they work up to it, maybe they never do. Error gives killer a mini doll of himself to squeeze whenever he starts doubting reality—probably because killer keeps forgetting he’s supposed to ask before touching but always stops himself mid way.

Error can see that killer is trying, although he doesn’t understand why it’s so hard for the guy to conceptualize the idea of boundaries. Does he not understand that saying no is a valid option? Regardless, killer is willing to listen when told no. Even if he clearly doesn’t understand what the big deal is. (If only killer had learned this lesson before meeting swap)

And they will of course what Error’s telenovelas. Or Error will watch them and ramble to killer with character analysis, headcanons, and theories while killer struggles to stay present and not become completely dissociated. The cats will lounge around in the beanbags with them.

I think it’ll be a very long time before killer feels safe enough around error to allow himself to be in stage 1–he will leave immediately as soon as he starts shifting over—but for now they’re both content with keeping things more surface level.

Kidnapping will become a staple of their interactions. Some days error will just snatch killer right up regardless of what’s he’s doing or saying and killer can escape easily but instead he’s just like, “new episode again?” Nightmare throws a fit whenever error takes killer while he’s trying to talk to him, which amuses killer so he allows it simply to spite the boss.

Sometimes ink is there too. Killer doesn’t know why or when they came around, but he’s there! Ink apparently likes drawing killer and error a lot. Ink comments that’s he taking all this in a surprising stride, and killer’s like..”pal, most days this just feels like a fever dream.”

Ink likes making and giving killer drawings of what happened that day out of hopes itll help it all feel more real to him.

[luveline]

could we get a glimpse into asf birthdays post-hogwarts? maybe r is having a bad time and isn’t feeling good and she worries that her sadness is ruining fred’s birthday but actually fred would rather spend his birthday in bed with ghost than at any sort of party. no pressure though lovely girl <3

love u!! fem!reader

cw mental health issues

Fred didn’t plan a party for his birthday. He works it out like this; it’s his birthday, and he loves you, and you don’t like parties, so he doesn’t really want one. He wants to spend an important day with his most important girl. He wants to see his family for breakfast, and so you go, and that’s enough of anybody else for a whole day. 

“What did you want to do for dinner?” you ask. 

“We just had breakfast.” 

“I know.” You frown at him in a faux of annoyance. “I’m just asking, so we can prepare.” 

“We’re gonna order something. No preparing. A feast. George might come over.” 

“If he doesn’t, he should be ashamed of himself.” 

“I’ll tell him you said that.” 

“Tell him!” You wrap your hand around his wrist for a few seconds. “Don’t tell him.” 

You seem a little out of sorts today. Making your very best effort to not let him in on the secret. Too bad for you, Fred knows you now. He knows when you’re depressed, when you’re freaking out, when you’re about to tip into overstimulation. He reckons he has a thirty percent chance of rescuing you, but he can see the guilt already taking shape on you. You’re unhappy, and you’ve never felt as ashamed of it as you do now. 

You’re squirming. 

“You know what I want for my birthday, lovely girl? You’ll never guess.” 

“What do you want?” 

“I want to spend the next couple of hours in bed with you.” 

You manage a smile, though you’re not in the mood for the innuendo you’d misheard. “I don’t know if…” You list off as he takes your waist into his hands, as he pulls you stomach to stomach and leans back. His hands twine over the small of your back. 

“I wanna sleep with your hands in my shirt,” he says. “That’s all, Ghost. Not seducing you.” 

“You can seduce me.” 

“Maybe I’ll try again later,” he says offhandedly. “Will you come and lie down with me?” 

“I know what you’re doing,” you say, letting him pull you as he begins to steer you from the kitchen doorway to the hallway into his room. Your room, just as soon as he asks you to move in. Most of your stuff spots the room, and there have long been drawers emptied for your perusal. 

The birthday card you got for him lays open on the nightstand. He guesses every penny you’ve been paid in the last month was spent on his gifts. He doesn’t understand when you’d managed to buy all this stuff, ‘cos you’re always together, but presents and wrapping paper still lay at the end of the bed as proof of your secrecy. It’s impressive and worrying. He likes it better when you have no secrets.

“I’m gonna need a wheelbarrow,” he says. 

“Surprised you know what that is.” 

“Oh!” he says, pulling the duvet back, and encouraging you down into the mattress with a gentleness that contrasts his snarky tone. “Oh, oh, oh. You’re being mean. That’s cool, I can be mean too. I’ll be so mean.” 

He takes his presents from the bed to the dresser and shakes the blanket out, little shards of papers and tape falling onto the floor for later cleaning. You’re watching him silently. You hold out your hands. 

“Aw, babe,” he says with a sigh, climbing into bed and on top of you, his face slotting in the space over your shoulder. He closes his eyes to breathe you in. Blind, the smell of your perfume is stronger, sweeter. 

“Are you okay?” you ask him.

“I love the way you smell.” 

“Freddie.” 

“Sweetheart, I’ve never been better in my life.” 

You curl your arm behind his back. He has to stress how it feels, the perfect weight on him, the perfect size, everything about you is what he wants and he shouldn’t be surprised at how much he loves you, but it catches him off guard anyways. He really, genuinely, just wants you to be as happy as he is —he wishes he could take your unhappiness and put you on better footing. It must be quite disconcerting to feel sad all the time. 

Fred worries it’s scarier than you can handle. The last thing he wants is for it to overwhelm you. 

“You smell like heaven,” he mumbles, pressing his nose to your neck. 

“Sorry.” 

“I don’t want you to be sorry.” 

“It’s your birthday.” 

“I know,” he murmurs, “you got me all those presents. You gave the cutest wake up kiss anyone’s ever gotten.” 

Good morning, you’d said quickly, pressing a soft peck to his lips, your hand on his cheek. Happy Birthday. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you say, nearly breathless. 

“Nothing has to be wrong, Ghost. It’s okay if you don’t feel very well.” 

“It’s your birthday,” you repeat quietly. 

Fred gives you a smattering of soft kisses. “I know, but it doesn’t matter,” he promises, “don’t feel bad. Let’s just have some quiet time. Maybe you’ll feel better tonight.” 

“What if I don’t?” you ask. 

“I won’t mind.” 

You slip your hand up behind his shirt, fingertip trailing over the ridges of his stretch marks. You’re obsessed with them, and you always say the same thing when you feel them, a whisper he can barely hear. “You got too tall too fast,” you say, fingertip higher, hand flattening as you reach the space between his shoulders. “Do you think you’re done growing now?” 

Fred has no idea. He tells you as much, the afternoon spent whispering conversation until you turn quiet. For a while you cwtch in quiet, and he gives you a couple of minutes to yourself to make lunch, which he eats and you thank him for but don’t touch. By dinner time, you’re feeling well enough again to sit up. You hold his hands and ask if he wants to watch TV. 

It’s a great birthday. 

[bbobpul]

being with you doesn't feel like drowning — lmk

PAIRING. bff!mark lee x bff!reader SUMMARY. reader tries to confess to mark in hopes that their feeling will disappear once they let it out of their chest. GENRE. angst, unrequited love, best friends to strangers, reunion W/C. 3.4k NOTE. i love boygenius so it's mandatory to listen to cool about it while reading FOR THE FEELS (0.0)!→ my other works

certain people from our youth leave an indelible mark on us, whether they are senior role models, acquaintances who brighten our days, or individuals who meant so much but eventually drifted apart. their presence, guidance, and impact shape our experiences and stay with us long after we part ways, reminding us of the significance of human connections and the lasting effects they have on our lives.

surely one of the saddest experiences but the best stories to tell.

mark lee is undoubtedly an incredibly lovable person. many people who know him would agree wholeheartedly. he embodies kindness and provides a comforting presence that draws people towards him. mark is like a ray of sunshine, approachable and warm.

in my personal experience, he has been a significant source of support during my college journey. his friendly demeanor attracts people, and many individuals wish to befriend him. some are too shy to approach him directly, so they often approach me as a way to connect with him, like a bridge to his vibrant social circle.

when i first entered high school, i had certain expectations of what mark lee might be like based on stereotypical characters from tv shows—cocky and popular. however, i quickly discovered that mark was different. despite any changes that high school brought, he remained the same kid i had grown up with.

i vividly remember the times when he would run to me for support when kids from our neighborhood were being mean to him. he trusted me enough to confide in me when his first crush rejected him, not knowing that i was also on the verge of tears myself. mark lee is someone who is so easy to love, and that's what makes him incredibly difficult to forget.

his genuine and vulnerable nature, his loyalty and trust in our friendship, have left a lasting impression on me. mark's authenticity and ability to connect on a deeper level are what set him apart. despite the ups and downs, he remains a constant presence in my life, a person i hold dear in my heart.

i consider myself incredibly fortunate to have been noticed by mark in a way that felt truly special, surpassing the attention he gave to others he met during high school. it was a privilege that should have brought me immense gratitude, yet i couldn't help but harbor a conflicting desire for something more. in my heart, i battled with feelings of self-doubt and yearning, torn between appreciating the unique connection we shared and longing for a deeper bond that seemed just out of reach.

sitting on the benches near the school gates with my friend donghyuck, i couldn't contain the overwhelming emotions within me any longer. "i really love him, hyuck. so much," i confessed, my voice filled with a mixture of vulnerability and excitement. it was a quiet moment between the two of us, as we had been dismissed early from school due to our lazy professor. as we waited for mark, who had some errands to run, i seized the opportunity to confide in donghyuck, trusting him with my deepest feelings and hoping for some guidance or understanding in return.

his response took me aback. "that sucks, man," he said, his words carrying a sense of sympathy. i stared at him in disbelief, hoping for some encouragement or guidance, but his straightforward suggestion caught me off guard. "just tell him," he continued, his voice laced with conviction. "it probably will disappear once you get your feelings off your chest."

"it won't. i know it won't work," i replied, my voice tinged with a sense of resignation. i recalled my previous attempts to convey my feelings to mark, even if it was in a lighthearted manner, and the lingering affection that persisted throughout the years. graduation was approaching, yet this feeling had taken root long before i even set foot in the halls of our school.

as the weight of my unrequited feelings continued to burden me, i added another layer of complexity to the situation. "i also can't tell him right now," i confessed, a hint of frustration evident in my voice. "he's apparently involved with this girl from stem."

"did he tell you that?" he asked, his voice filled with skepticism.

"no," i replied, realizing that i had simply heard it through the grapevine without any confirmation from mark himself.

"then it's not true," hyuck asserted, his words resonating with a sense of certainty. i looked at him, a glimmer of hope flickering within me.

"you are his best friend, y/n," he continued, his voice gentle yet matter-of-fact. "if he likes someone, you'll be the first one he'll talk to. sadly." his words struck a chord, emphasizing the closeness of my friendship with mark and the trust we shared.

hyuck's words resonated deeply within me, stirring a newfound determination. "try, y/n," he urged, his voice filled with encouragement.

and try, i would. i made up my mind to release the weight of my unspoken emotions, regardless of whether or not mark would reciprocate my feelings. it was no longer about seeking validation or hoping for a specific outcome. instead, it was about freeing myself from the burden of unexpressed affection, allowing my heart to find solace in the act of honesty. i realized that true liberation lay in the courage to let my emotions be known, even if it meant accepting the possibility of unrequited love.

as fate would have it, just as i resolved to confront my feelings and open myself up to vulnerability, the universe seemed to conspire in its own mischievous way. "y/n," a familiar voice called out, capturing my attention. there he was, mark lee, waving at me with an infectious smile adorning his face.

my heart skipped a beat as a mixture of excitement and nervousness coursed through me. it was as if the universe was testing my newfound resolve, presenting me with an opportunity to seize the moment. with a deep breath, i mustered the courage to meet his gaze, ready to embark on a journey that would reveal the truth of my emotions and pave the way for whatever lay ahead.

"hey, man," mark greeted donghyuck with a warm smile before his attention shifted towards me. his eyes locked with mine, and he uttered those words that sent a surge of anticipation through me, "let's go home?"

his invitation caught me off guard, my heart fluttering at the thought of spending more time with him. it's not like this is the first time we are walking home together. without hesitation, i nodded, my own smile mirroring his. "sure, let's go," i replied, unable to conceal the excitement bubbling within me.

as we bid farewell to donghyuck at the school gates, mark and i ventured further into the outside world. the sun gently kissed our faces as we strolled side by side, our footsteps creating a harmonious rhythm. in that moment, mark's words washed over me, his voice filled with a warmth and sincerity that melted my heart.

"let's just walk, hmm?" he suggested, his eyes twinkling with a hint of playfulness. "i didn't see you much today, so i want to spend more time with you." it was a simple request, but it held profound meaning for me. this was the side of mark that had always made me swoon—the one who sought my company, who cherished our moments together. the tenderness in his words enveloped me, igniting a sense of belonging and significance.

as we walked side by side, heading towards home, i couldn't help but wonder if this would be the moment to gather my courage and express what had been weighing on my heart. it was a chance to lay bare my feelings and discover where our paths might converge. with each step, the anticipation grew, filling the air with a mix of hope, apprehension, and the promise of a newfound chapter in our intertwined lives.

as if synchronized by an invisible thread connecting our hearts, the words escaped our lips simultaneously, "i want to tell you something." a moment of lighthearted surprise passed between us before a shared smile graced our faces.

with a gentle nod, i urged mark to speak first, my curiosity piqued and a warmth of anticipation spreading within me. i wanted to hear what he had to say, to immerse myself in his world of thoughts and emotions.

"hmm, i'm sure you already heard about the rumors," my heart sank as mark began to speak, his words hit me like a wave of disconnection, momentarily distancing us. despite my own hopes, i forced myself to listen, desperately clinging to the possibility that he would deny it.

"and before you scold me, i'm sorry, okay?" he interjected, a touch of remorse coloring his words. "i'm sorry for not telling you first. it's just that you've been so busy with your debate stuff. but yes, the rumors are true." his words were filled with a sense of happiness, but inside, i felt a pang of sadness. i wanted to push my own feelings aside, to let him speak and find solace in his words, even if it meant disregarding my own desires and wishes.

in the brief silence that followed mark's confession, my mind raced to process the reality of his words. one, two, three seconds passed as i grappled with a mix of emotions. however, before i could fully retreat into my thoughts, mark's voice broke through the haze, calling my name and snapping me back to reality.

"that's cool, mark," i managed to say, mustering a tone of enthusiasm, despite the conflicting emotions swirling within me. his smile widened, and for a fleeting moment, i allowed myself to believe that i had successfully masked my true feelings. in that instant, his happiness became my focus, setting aside my own desires to ensure his joy remained undisturbed.

"what was it that you wanted to say?" mark inquired, his curiosity urging me to share my thoughts.

"ah," i stammered, desperately searching for words to divert the conversation. "you know, i just wanted to mention that my debate commitments have been overwhelming lately, and i feel like i need some rest." i fabricated an explanation, my mind struggling to conjure up plausible details. but as the words left my lips, my thoughts turned into a blank canvas, drained of any creative energy. mark continued speaking, presumably attempting to uplift my spirits, but his words became distant and muffled as my focus waned.

lost in my own internal turmoil, i unknowingly made my way inside my house, the outside world fading into the background. the weight of my unspoken truth settled heavily upon my shoulders, leaving me to contemplate the consequences of my silence and the disconnection i felt in that moment.

the vibration of my phone jolted me back to reality. retrieving it from my pocket, i discovered a message from mark. the words on the screen were like a lifeline, a gentle reminder of his unwavering support.

from mark

you will do great, i just know. there's nothing you can't do, y/n.

lying on my bed, i attempted to convince myself that everything was okay, that i could handle this situation with composure. it was just a simple crush, i reassured myself, something that could be dismissed and forgotten. i resolved to force myself to let go, to erase the thoughts of him from my mind.

deep down, i yearned for him to kindly leave my thoughts, to release his hold on my heart. with these conflicting emotions swirling within me, i drifted off to sleep that night, whispering to myself that one day, perhaps, i would forget about it, though uncertain if that day would ever truly arrive.

as ten years elapsed, bringing us to the present, the time had come for our high school reunion, an event i had initially considered skipping. donghyuck, however, was relentless in his insistence that i attend. inwardly, i grappled with my own reservations, questioning the root of my hesitation. after all, they were just old friends, right? well, except for mark. but it had been a decade since we last saw each other, and i reminded myself that everything had changed. including my feelings.

with a deep breath, i resolved to face the reunion head-on. it was an opportunity to reconnect with familiar faces and witness the transformations that time had wrought upon us all. i steeled myself, ready to navigate the evening with a newfound sense of confidence, curious to see how the passage of years had molded us into the individuals we had become. and in the back of my mind, a flicker of anticipation remained, wondering what the encounter with mark, the person who once held my heart, would bring.

as i arrived at the reunion, i was greeted by the familiar voice of donghyuck. a smile crossed my lips as i took in his playful remark. "y/n!" he exclaimed, his playful tone resonating in the air. "wow, you smell successful." it was a lighthearted comment, one that instantly brought back a flood of memories and reminded me of the bond we shared. i couldn't deny that i missed him, our friendship, and the easy banter we once had.

donghyuck then reminded me of the gathering, informing me that everyone was already seated and eagerly awaiting our arrival. it was a gentle nudge to set aside any remaining hesitations and fully embrace the moment. with a renewed sense of excitement, i followed donghyuck, ready to reunite with old friends and embark on a journey of reminiscence and rediscovery.

amidst the flurry of greetings from both familiar and unfamiliar faces, a part of me remained focused on one person. as i exchanged pleasantries and engaged in small talk, my heart quietly longed for the presence of that one individual. amongst the laughter and conversations that filled the room, i found myself eagerly awaiting the moment when our paths would cross once again.

time seemed to stretch as i scanned the room, searching for that familiar face that held so much significance in my life. each passing moment heightened the anticipation, the longing growing stronger with every passing second. it was as if the reunion revolved around the hope of reconnecting with this particular person, and i couldn't deny the depth of emotion that coursed through me.

in the midst of the gathering, surrounded by old memories and new conversations, i patiently held onto the belief that this encounter held the potential to reignite a flame that had flickered in my heart for years.

"hey, y/n." the sound of my name, uttered in a familiar voice, sent a shiver down my spine. i turned around, my heart racing, and there he was—the man i had loved for years and spent a decade trying to forget. as my gaze met his, i couldn't help but notice the changes that time had wrought upon him. he exuded a sense of maturity, yet his smile remained as captivating as ever, instantly evoking memories of our shared youth.

in that moment, a flood of emotions washed over me, overwhelming yet undeniably familiar. it was as if time stood still, and the weight of our past connection resurfaced with an undeniable intensity. the years apart seemed to fade away as we stood face to face, and i found myself drawn back to a time when his presence had filled my world with warmth and excitement.

as we locked eyes, an unspoken language passed between us, encapsulating a history of shared experiences and unspoken feelings. the passage of time had only deepened the significance of our connection, and in that instant, i couldn't help but wonder if the lingering embers of our past love had the potential to reignite into something more.

"it's nice to see you again," he said, his words carrying a hint of longing, as if he had missed me deeply. the sincerity in his voice echoed through my being, reigniting the familiarity of our connection.

"wanna catch up outside?" he asked, his eyes flickering towards the serene seaside just beyond the venue, as if beckoning us to a place where we could find solace in each other's company.

a surge of anticipation swept over me, my heart yearning for a chance to reconnect and unravel the mysteries of the past decade. "mark, it's so nice to see you here," i replied, a genuine smile playing on my lips. "sure, let's go."

with each step we took towards the peaceful seaside, it felt as if we were embarking on a journey to rediscover the unspoken words and unfulfilled promises of our youth. the possibilities lay open before us, as the waves whispered tales of past memories and the sea breeze carried the promise of a shared future.

"you suddenly disappeared after we graduated, why is that?" he asked

"i'm sorry, mark. something personal came up that we had to move." i answered and then silence engulfed us.

"how have you been?" i asked, my voice filled with genuine curiosity and a touch of apprehension. his response held the power to shape the course of our conversation, and i braced myself for the unexpected.

a faint smile graced his lips, revealing a glimmer of excitement and anticipation. it was a smile reminiscent of a child eager to share a significant achievement with their parents—a smile that hinted at something significant he wanted to convey. i couldn't help but notice the contrast between his current demeanor and the person i was ten years ago. back then, i would have approached this moment with unguarded optimism, but the passage of time had taught me to temper my expectations, shielding myself from potential hurt.

deep down, i acknowledged that there was a part of me prepared for disappointment, a defense mechanism against the potential pain that might follow. however, despite the self-imposed caution, i couldn't deny the flicker of hope that ignited within me, yearning for a connection that transcended the confines of time.

"i'm getting married in december," he said, his words cutting through the air with a bittersweet tone. his smile remained, but it was now tinged with a mixture of joy and sadness. "i'm so glad to see you today, y/n. you could be a part of my big day."

those words hit me like a wave, crashing against the fragile walls i had built to protect myself. the shards of my shattered heart from ten years ago seemed to reassemble, piercing me once more. the pain i thought i had long left behind resurfaced with an intensity i never anticipated.

the conflicting emotions within me waged a silent battle. on one hand, i wanted to be genuinely happy for him, to embrace the joy of his upcoming union. but on the other, a deep ache echoed within my soul, a longing for a different outcome, for a future where our paths intertwined.

as i absorbed the weight of his announcement, i mustered a smile, my voice trembling slightly. "congratulations, mark. i'm truly honored that you would consider me to be a part of your special day." behind my polite words, i hid the remnants of a broken heart, the realization that the pain of unrequited love had found its way back to me once again.

"and it's really nice to see how good you're doing. how far you've come. i am so proud of you, mark."

a heavy sigh escaped my lips as i grappled with the weight of my emotions. in that moment, i yearned to be selfish, to put my own desires and feelings first. but deep down, i knew the truth—i never had any rights to claim. i had been living in the shadows of unrequited love, forever playing the role of the understanding friend, while my heart silently yearned for something more.

method acting had become my expertise, allowing me to wear a mask of indifference, concealing the turmoil that raged within me. i mastered the art of pretending, adept at hiding the fact that being in his presence felt like a constant struggle to keep my head above water. i told him it was nice to see how well he was doing, but beneath the surface, the truth lingered, like an unspoken ache.

in the depths of my soul, i acknowledged the bitterness that threatened to consume me. it was a bitter truth that whispered in the recesses of my mind—i still loved him, and witnessing his happiness with someone else was a constant reminder of what i could never have. but i couldn't allow those feelings to tarnish the moments we shared, so i continued to play the role of the supportive friend, my true emotions concealed beneath the facade.

[altraviolet]

Jane Austin didn't know she was Jane Austin / writing encouragement

Cozy fantasy/romance author Lidiya Foxglove has a youtube video called "How to write a classic bestselling novel that everyone will read in 200 years," that's very interesting and inspiring. Here are some parts that really struck me, and that I think other creators will resonate with:

…Pride and Prejudice has been one of the most enduring novels of our time. It's very impressive to me that all of Jane Austin's novels are still widely read, and I'm quite sure that Jane did not write them thinking, “I bet people are still going to be reading my books in 200 years.” And then she died without ever knowing that she was Jane Austin, which I think about constantly … She sold some books, some of them sold decently well. A few prominent people read them, which I'm sure must have pleased her very much at the time. And then she died and then over the course of ages she became Jane Austin. … The point that I want to make … is that I think it's just really important to write the books that call to you. Maybe even just the books that you need to write to make money. I think it's really important to write the books that call to you, even if they feel a little self-indulgent or silly at times. If they don't feel like they're necessarily what you're capable of, but they're what you want to write because you don't really know where a powerful theme or a character that's going to resonate with people will emerge, and you also don't know where culture is going in the future, it could be that people of the future appreciate different things than we appreciate now, and that something that's only minorly successful now is going to be huge in the future.

Perhaps you really love literary fiction and you got a bachelor in English, and you got an MFA, and you genuinely love classic literature, and you love, like, really beautiful literary prose, but the work that you're working on is like a cute little romance about lesbians running an adoption agency for baby dragons. Something in your head is like, “That is what I'm capable of. That sounds kind of silly, but it's just something that I write because it's fun.”

I'm here to give you permission to write whatever calls to you, whether it is yet another broody vampire, or a horror novel that just reminds you of books you read under the covers when you were 12. Even if you want to write a literary novel about a sad man suffering, yeah, you know, if that's what calls to you, there's always room for another one. Don't feel bad about writing something that just feels like you, and don't get too in your head about whether it is a great work or not. If you're going to devote some of your time, your one precious life, to writing, then I think the last thing we should be worrying about is whether it's important or whether it will be a classic or a bestseller, much less both, which as we've established is extremely rare.

You have no idea what will resonate with people 50 or 100 years from now and you don't know what will resonate with people now. It might be that you die not knowing that you were Jane Austin, but aren't we so glad that Jane Austin just was Jane Austin without knowing she was Jane Austin?

And the other point I want to make is if you need to write something for money, as I have done, it doesn't mean that that book won't mean something to people as well. You really have no clue how long a book will last or what kind of long term relevance or popularity it will have, or whether it will just like hit someone a certain way at a certain time in their life. There are entire categories of creations like pulp science fiction or superhero comics that were kind of treated as throwaway amusements when they first came out, and now have a much more elevated place in our culture. So it's also possible that a Court of Thorns and Roses will in fact be more popular in 50 years and that people will be getting their Sarah J Maas books graded and encased in plastic. Like, I don't know. They are also books that never become classics in a broad sense but have a small group of people who love them, or there's books that really influence someone when they came out so, they might not have been known themselves, but some other great artist would never have been what they were without that work.

I think all of these things are important and that art is just a big web and conversation and that you can drive yourself crazy trying to decide where you fit into it. So write what you love, write what you need to write to be able to keep on writing, and don't worry about tests of time or bestseller lists.

Be sure to check out the video, because she touches on so much more. And check out Lidiya's channel, The Cozy Creative!

[wutheringskies]

"Well, personally, I don't think MDZS characters are on the spectrum?"

oh. not even Lan Zhan? (or Song Lan?) I'm autistic and it's genuinely impossible for me to not read him that way. Especially the part where your personal morals clash with the chaos and messiness of the outside world. He's my favorite because I felt his journey and growth as a character deep in my soul. Idk about other autistic people but to me it was always the most painful thing: holding on to my values while trying to be more flexible and not attacking people or cutting them off for minor offenses. Over the course of the story,Lan Zhan manages to mature,understand Wei Ying better,and become more flexible without becoming disillusioned or passive,so he's really an ideal in that sense.

Sorry,I ranted too much again

"No wonder why Jiang Yanli, though a little more aware due to her sex and standing, gives the same vibes? like a sort of lost, good, kind vibe?"

Yes! yes! Those are exactly the vibes. I was just joking to someone a while ago that both Lan Zhan and Wei Ying have been raised by the exact same older sibling figure. Honesly that puts Yanli and Xichen's achievements in perspective,cause they both encouraged or allowed their younger siblings to be idealistic and righteous,instead of stifling those impulses,which is a choice and a great thing.

And yes,unlike Lan Xichen,Jiang Yanli is that passive mostly because of her status and sex. And because of being traumatized by a horrible abusive narc mom.

They should have been allowed to have like a soup and flute club together every sunday or something. The friendship would have done them good. (Maybe let Wen Ning join too)

Anyway,thank you for replying! It was fun talking to you!

Hey! I'm really sorry for not seeing this before. I forgot to open my inbox.

Yes, I personally do not perceive MDZS characters on the spectrum. There are two reasons for this - firstly, Lan Zhan's character is very well written. Personally, I did not feel the need to enhance him. I think you can call me a bit of 'canon purist,' that is, I derive most pleasure from improving my understanding of a literary work to be as close as possible to authorial intent (I am of course, open to divergences, enhancements, and all sorts of stuff. But if we go by my 'default' setting, it is this.)

Secondly, I would count as a neurotypical person. I think you'd agree that in many fandoms, the 'quiet' or 'just a little bit weird' person, as well as the cheery, energetic person are often immediately headcanonned as neurodivergent. Thus, I guess I felt like doing so to Lan Zhan etc might be me leaning heavily into stereotypes! In my personal experience, my close cousins - though diagnosed similarly on the spectrum, had extremely varying thinking processes.

However, it is enlightening to know more about why you characterized him as such - especially about becoming more comfortable in his skin. Lan Zhan is also my favourite character, though for different reasons. I can relate to his desire to perform each task with excellence, preference for quietude, and struggle with his dominant orientation. How he tried his hardest to be a liberal, before becoming radicalized. The struggle of being someone who respects traditional and societal values, but has his own strong personal ideals, morality and desires that cannot co-exist with them :( It's tragic how he wished to protect the one he loved, tried but wasn't good at expressing himself, wasn't powerful enough to guarantee peace, wasn't politically smart enough to change things, wasn't strong enough to fight the whole world for him, and eventually, he was even unwanted by his lover, who was hurt by him. Thus, exiled by love and punished by his clan, he really had nothing to look forward to. Yet, he choose to rise up, day after day and make the differences he could make.

I think his persistence and his healing is the most impressive thing about him for me. How he was inadequate but then, became someone who could protect Wei Ying.

There's no need to apologize! I quite love your takes and rants. (PS - please don't take my stating I am a canon purist as a form of discouraging thought. That is only for my personal satisfaction!)

I totally agree. I wish to add Xiao XIngchen to this club. In a highly tense political environment, these characters were adorably in need of some splash painting and crafts sessions. I'd love to put all of them together in some club in a Modern AU. Jiang Yanli will cook, Lan Xichen will paint and play sad, and funky melodies, Wen Ning will help and Xiao Xingchen will laugh at everything.

[thisismysecondrodeo]

here’s a request if you have time: ted giving y/n a massage?

AN: @tedssweaters wrote a lovely little massage blurb that everyone should go read. I already had this request in my queue and of course, I went in a different (read: horny) direction lol s/o to @jarfishy for the encouragement to finish this one early 😛 two fics in one day, who am I?!

Rating: Explicit

Tags: AFAB!reader, One-Shot, Sports injury turned very sexy, Smut, Porn with barely any plot, facefucking, fingerfucking, General sexy things

Fic masterlist

-

You had been obsessed with football since you were little, your older brothers happily taught you every trick they knew while they dribbled circles around you until you were old enough to start playing against girls your own age. You had long since hung up your football dreams, though, focusing on a career in PR instead. But since you started working for AFC Richmond—and dating the head coach—you couldn’t help but want to get back on the pitch again.

Over happy hour one night you told the team how much you missed playing and they all tried to get you into a drunken round of footie on the Richmond Green, absolutely gutted when they couldn’t procure a football and the coaches told them it was too dark and they were too not-sober. But after that, the boys would occasionally drop by your office on a light practice day to invite you out and you started keeping some extra athletic clothes and boots under your desk.

“You sure it's okay,” you asked Ted each time you went to step out on the pitch, trying not to linger. Though your relationship had started completely unrelated to your employment, neither of you wanted anyone to get the wrong impression. The only people that were aware you were together were Rebecca and HR…and Keeley after that one time she had come back for something in her old desk and caught the two of you….indisposed. You had to admit the sneaking around was a little sexy, but it was a bummer in times like this when you wanted to drop a kiss on his cheek after he said, “of course! Go show those boys what-for.”

You were getting into the rhythms of playing, your lungs burning with exertion and a grin cemented to your face as you darted around. You raised a hand to Dani with a call of, “oi!” and sprinted to the ball to set yourself up for a corner kick. It felt good to score, even though you knew the boys let you have that one—granted they’d been out there for hours and you were fresh from your desk, no one could blame them for being a little slow.

You were taking the ball down the field when Sam called for a pass and you looked up for him just as O’Brien went for a slide tackle and you went down hard, with a pained grunt. Ted was hovering over you in an instant, you didn’t even know how he’d moved that quickly, and you rolled off of O’Brien and onto your stomach with a laugh.

“Jeez, I’m so sorry, you alright Y/N,” O’Brien asked with genuine remorse as he sat up on his knees, Ted right next to him his brow furrowed in concern.

“It was fair play, I’m perfectly fine Tommy Boy. Don’t apologize for that,” You went to get up but Ted stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t move yet, we should get you checked out,” Ted said and you looked at him like he was crazy.

“Ted, I’m fine. I’m a human woman, not a paper doll,” you laughed and Ted chuckled with you. “Just help me up, why don’t you?”

Ted held out a hand and you let him take most of your weight as you clambered up, took a step, and…shit that hurt. Not the worst you’d felt, but your thigh was cripplingly tight. You must have pulled your hamstring when you went down. Ted saw you grimace and his voice was frantic when he asked, “Woah now, what hurts?”

“Mmmf,” you grunted, “s’okay, just pulled my hamstring.” You gestured to your left leg and Ted’s hands were on you, squeezing with a pleasure-pain that made you groan as you braced yourself on his shoulder, not realizing how inappropriate this might seem to the players still gathered around. Coach Beard loudly and pointedly cleared his throat but it was too late.

“Coach, why don’t you work my hamstrings out like that, huh,” Jamie called out, his tongue sticking out of his mouth. Roy shoulder-checked him but even he smirked. Ted blushed and removed his hands immediately. You needed to get him out of here before he started apologizing and making things worse.

“Where were you when I tore my butt,” O’Brien teased and all the players laughed at that. Ted opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly cut him off.

“Ha ha,” you stuck your tongue out at Jamie and O’Brien mockingly, “come on, Coach, help me to the treatment room?” You wrapped an arm around Ted’s shoulders, your hurt leg in between so you could use him as a crutch as you limped off the pitch. He wrapped a hand around your waist to support you, being sure to keep his hand higher than necessary.

As soon as the treatment door clicked shut behind you, Ted had you wrapped tightly in his arms as if he had found you on the pitch half-dead. Thank god the actual trainer was out for the afternoon otherwise there was no way the two of you could explain this one away as platonic concern. You chuckled a little but let him hold you, his hands gripping your t-shirt as he took deep, soothing breaths.

“Ted?”

He didn’t respond but you could feel his fingers release just a smidge.

“Teddy, I’m alright sweetheart,” you whispered with light amusement and Ted sighed and let you go.

“I know, I know you just…gave me a bit of a fright seein’ you take a tumble like that. And I’m embarrassed on top of that for not keepin’ my hands to myself and almost blowing our cover. I should have told the boys to take it easy—”

“Woah, now, none of that,” you chastised, hobbling over to sit on a treatment table. “I may not have ever been a professional athlete, but I was an athlete. I know what it’s like to be knocked down, I know the symptoms of a concussion. Hell, have I told you my front incisor is an implant? Mum was pissed after that game.” You chuckled and looked over at Ted who was wincing. “Ah, come on now darling. You see people get hurt all the time. Scrapes and bruises are little badges of hon—”

“Not you,” Ted said, his voice tight and his hands fisted in his pockets. “I don’t see you get hurt all the time. It’s not because you’re a woman or because you’re not a professional or because I don’t think you can handle yourself, I just…I love you. And I don’t want to see the person I love in pain.”

Ted had never told you he loved you before and your eyes shot to his face, searching for any indication that he didn’t mean it, that he regretted saying it. But all you saw was the vulnerability of him offering his heart on a platter. You reached a hand out towards him and he stepped closer, allowing you to tug one of his fists from the pocket of his khakis.

“I love you too, Ted Lasso,” you whispered, holding his gaze as you leaned in and he met you halfway. It was easy to forget where you were and why when he kissed you like that, but when you shifted to widen your legs so he could step between them, the tug in your thigh reminded you and you grunted into his mouth, which was not the sexy sound he’d been anticipating.

“As much as I’m loving this very sexy turn of events, do you think you could get me an ice pack?”

Ted jumped into action with a smile and you slid off the table to remove your shorts so they wouldn’t get in the way, before leaning over and locking the door. Ice pack in hand, Ted turned and you could see the way his eyes lingered, but he remained focused on attending to your injury.

“Here, why don’t you lay on your stomach and I’ll hold this for you.” You did as he asked, and jumped when the freezing cold sensation hit your skin. “Did you stretch before you got out there?”

You gave Ted a sheepish look from where your head rested on your folded arms and he clucked his tongue at you. “Well if it’s alright with you, it might be helpful to massage your other leg while this one is healing to prevent this in the future. If you’re gonna be a member of my team, ya gotta be proactive in taking care of yourself, ya know?”

You smiled and nodded as he wrapped your ice-pack thigh in a towel so it wouldn’t move and stepped to your other side, rubbing massage therapy oil between his palms before he touched you. “Does that mean you’re letting me back out on the pitch, Coach?” You didn’t mean it to be seductive, but the two of you had somehow slipped into a mild coach-player roleplay, and the moan that slipped from your lips when he pressed down deep into the muscles of your thigh didn’t help.

“As if I could tell you no,” Ted responded affectionately, using both hands to grip your thigh and rub small, deep circles down the length of the muscle. He moved down to your calf, massaging slowly and humming a tune. He switched legs, skipping your injured thigh and going straight to the calf muscle and it felt like heaven, his hands warm and firm against your skin, his long fingers wrapping briefly around your ankle. He let go and you whimpered at the loss.

“How’s your back, love?”

“If I say ‘just awful’ will you keep touching me?”

Ted laughed, a full-bellied laugh that always made you giddy when you could pull it from him. You sat up and he helped you remove your shirt and bra before you laid back down, your arms to your side, and as he walked past your head for more massage oil you couldn’t help but noticed his tented khakis. You had of course felt like this was a rather sexy scenario, but you hadn’t realized how much it was affecting Ted too. He hadn’t made any untoward comments or touched you in any way that someone with a Sports Physiology degree wouldn’t. Knowing that his care for you was NOT centered on sex, that he couldn’t be distracted from looking after you just because you were mostly nude, only made you want to fuck him more.

Ted ran his hands over your back, gently first and then with more pressure. You sighed deeply when he hit the spot between your shoulder blades that always ached from working at a computer all day. He leaned closer so he could focus in on that spot but when his erection brushed your arm he quickly tilted his hips back. You wanted to tell him it was okay but you didn’t want to embarrass him, so you settled for letting him know how much you were enjoying the experience and maybe some not-so-subtle hints.

When his thumbs worked into your lower back, you spread your legs slightly and thanked your lucky stars you had picked gray underwear today. You knew he could see how wet you were by the sharp intake of breath you heard behind you.

“Feel good,” he asked, his voice a little strained, and you smiled over your shoulder at him.

“Very. What would you say if I asked you to get my glutes…Coach?”

Ted took a deep breath that he released as a groan. “I’d say we’d need to get these off.” If you could fist pump in this position you would. You were dying for him to touch you. Not that he hadn’t been, but there were certainly more sensitive areas that could use his attention. Ted removed the towel and ice pack first, letting his long fingers trail along your inner thigh and you shuddered in anticipation. He hooked his fingers in your waistband, slid down your underwear, and then…actually massaged your glutes.

It still felt amazing, but you wanted him to sink those very capable fingers into your core, to massage your clit until you were begging for release.

“Hey, Coach?”

“Hm,” Ted hummed. You couldn’t see him from this angle but he wasn’t tilting his hips back anymore and you could feel him hard against the side of your thigh.

“This is making me very fucking horny.”

Ted laughed. “Is that right? Is that you droppin’ hints that you’d like my hands…a little lower?”

“Well if you’re offering,” you joked nonchalantly as if you weren’t prepared to beg. Ted did slide his hands down but he didn’t immediately sink his fingers into you. Instead, he treated your vulva with the same care he had treated the rest of your body, a gentle but purposeful massage that made it hard to tell whether the growing slickness between your thighs was oil, arousal, or a mix of both.

“Fuck,” you whined as Ted’s middle finger parted you and made contact with your clit, but he pulled away and you grunted in frustration.

“Turn over for me darlin’.”

Ted helped so you didn’t bother your injured leg and though you were more than excited for him to go back to touching you, the real reason you felt heat pooling in your belly was getting to look at his sweet face, concern almost fully replaced with desire, his dimple deepening when his eyes locked on yours.

“Well, hello there,” you said softly and he grinned. “Appreciate the helping hand.”

“Anytime,” Ted responded as he ran his oiled hands up your belly to your peaked nipples, massaging your breasts and leaning forward to capture your moans between his own lips. You tangled your tongue with his, relishing in the slip of his fingers as he pinched at both nipples. He stood up as he trailed one hand back to its previous location. Done teasing, he wasted no time sliding two fingers into you and you tried to keep your reaction in check but you couldn’t help but whine, “Jesus, fuck Ted you feel so fucking good.”

“Shh, I’m glad, baby,” Ted said quietly, obviously not wanting to draw attention to what was currently happening in the treatment room, “just relax and let me take care of you.” He tilted his fingers up to find the soft spot inside of you that made your soul leave your body as his thumb found your clit, his other hand still alternating between your breasts. You were whimpering and whining and Ted was steadily trying to shush you but you didn’t know how he expected you to stay quiet when he was so expertly taking you apart.

“I…I can’t, fuuck, I can’t stay quiet baby.”

“You have to darlin’, you have to be good for me.”

“Mmm,” you complained but then you caught sight of his erection yet again and you ran your hand over it, smiling when he couldn’t help but press into your palm. You tugged him closer to you by his pocket, using both hands to work his pants open and Ted chuckled, “you’re just not going to let me take care of you, are you?”

You freed Ted’s length from his boxers and smiled up at him, batting your eyelashes. “I just thought something in my mouth might help me keep quiet.”

“Christ,” Ted whispered emphatically as you stroked him a few times. Somehow in all of this fingers had never stopped their slow fucking so you knew he was up to the challenge.

“You’re going to have to fuck my mouth since I don’t have the range of motion I normally do, think you can multitask?”

Ted choked on his spit and coughed, sputtering as he answered, “You’re going to be the absolute death of me.”

But it certainly wasn’t a no, and he did as you asked when you slipped the tip of him between your lips, moving slowly to match the pace of his fingers. You moaned against him, adoring the feeling of him heavy in your mouth, letting your tongue circle the seam of him when he pulled back and relaxing your jaw when he pushed back in. He picked up the pace of both his hips and his fingers and you were so close, your whole body pulsing with desire, your injury forgotten. And then Ted slid in a third finger and you were a goner, the stretch and pressure so overwhelmingly good the only thing stopping you from screaming was his dick in your mouth.

Thankfully, when he felt you clench against his fingers he stopped moving his hips, otherwise you surely would have choked. Your chest was heaving as Ted moved to pull out of your mouth but you shook your head no, leaning over to take him in hand before you released him for a gasp of air, stroking him swiftly until you could take him again. When you were ready you sat up slightly so you had more control and used both your hand and tongue to work him over, his chin tucked to his chest and his hand covering his mouth.

“I’m gonna…baby, I’m about to…” He tried to pull back, but you shook your head again and sank down as far as you could and swallowed, feeling him come down the back of your throat. Now it was Ted’s turn to gasp for air as you sucked him clean and released him.

“Can’t believe this treatment room is still haunted,” Ted said as he tucked himself back in his khakis, “you’re a goddamn succubus.”

You laughed as he helped you back into your clothes. The two of you had been missing from training for so long, you just cleaned up the treatment room and left the stadium hoping no one was suspicious. Ted shot Beard a quick text that he was helping you get home and got just a thumbs up in return.

-

A couple weeks later now fully healed, Colin stopped by your office and invited you out to the pitch again. You grinned and pulled on your athletic wear, tying up your boots before stepping out next to Ted. The two of you had decided it was long time to stop sneaking around, so this time when you asked, “you sure it’s okay” and Ted told you to get out there, you thanked him with a kiss.

Both of you looked around at the team confused when no one reacted and Ted cleared his throat, “Guess I should let y’all know that, uh, Y/N and I…”

“We know, Coach,” Sam called out with a smile. “And we’re happy for you both.” The team took to the pitch but you and Ted still looked at each other confused until Isaac came over and murmured, “Training room connects to the locker room. And it's not soundproof, bruv.” You’d never seen the color drain from Ted’s face so quickly, but you just followed Isaac out onto the pitch with a smile. It had been worth it.

And despite now knowing about you and Ted—way too much about you and Ted, it seemed—the boys didn’t take it easy on you for one second. Just the way you liked it.

[mochidoie]

from die for you...

lee haechan x fem!reader wc - 4k genre - fluff, heartbreak angst, unrequited love, dorky!haechan warnings - mentions of alcohol

Dying for someone is dramatic, insanely impractical, lacking in logic. Nonetheless, Haechan would do it without any ounce of hesitation or thought. You just had to say it.

Haechan is a complete hopeless romantic. He’d do anything for love, even if it meant dying for it. You, the interest of his love, deserve every ounce of it that he could offer. He would die for you. 

You are perfect – head to toe. Your laughter rings a sweet tune in his ears. He sees it in your eyes– that spark of passion and all of your aspirations. He craves your touch like no other, it drives him absolutely insane. You are his first love.

Haechan genuinely feels a love worth dying for, all you have to do is ask. Ask him to be honest, ask him to lie for you, ask him to be everything you’ve ever wanted in life. He’ll do it all. All you have to do is say the words.

“Hyuck, are you still there?” He catches your wrist as your hand comes into his view. If only you could feel his pulse racing at this connection. Haechan had been so lost in his imaginations with you that he carelessly forgot the midterm that you two were originally studying for. 

“I’m here.” He reassures, but in a tone that says more than him being alert about the exam. You tsk at him, waving his hand from your wrist. You flip through the pages of the heavy textbook with ease. 

“You should be here.” You point at the page number at the bottom corner of the page and the title of the chapter. The sigh unknowingly escapes your lips, you’re disappointed in him for daydreaming off when you’re in the trenches with this upcoming midterm.

“You’re supposed to be the one helping me study, remember?”

“Right. Of course, I know.” Haechan tries to regain his composure.

“We’re not even on the same page.” Though he is most definitely over analyzing your words, he can’t help but feel you meant something more with that statement. 

“Now we are. Trust me, I won’t let you fail this.” His encouraging smile does make you feel slightly better. This is your first college midterm and it already feels drastically different from high school. You’re lucky to have Haechan as a study partner. He seems to grasp the material much better and faster than you ever could. It’s almost as if his brain is working double to make up for the lack of retention in your brain. 

Haechan has been your friend since sophomore year of high school. You two were more acquaintance level when it came to a friendship, mostly chatting in classes you two shared or in groups with mutuals. It wasn’t until you both realized that you were going to the same college did you two grow closer.

Haechan has always been notably smart. He was in the top 10 percent of your graduating class and set the test curves in math and science classes. His impressive intelligence earned him a full scholarship and many awards during graduation. Nonetheless, Haechan is a typical dork. His collared striped shirt is neatly tucked in, without a fail. He wears his bangs down and bluntly cut over his eyes. Natural body scent is his choice of cologne and he refuses to switch out his glasses frames for trendy ones since trends never last.

Haechan is slightly awkward around other girls or new people and he has trouble holding eye contact with anyone. In his free time, he can be found in his comfortable gaming chair and clicking furiously at his mouse, yelling into his headset when he loses a game. Or, he could be found in a library studying up a new subject that interests him. 

He shows no romantic interest in anything that breathes. The only things that excites him are numbers, books and video games, sometimes stocks. You have never seen him interact with any other girl besides you.

His best friends include Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun. These four were practically inseparable, practically all dorky clones of one another. 

However, their dorkiness made them easy to approach. They were not intimidating, they mostly kept to themselves. All of them usually seemed disinterested in drugs, parties, alcohol and girls. If even asked if they’ve ever had a crush, they would all quiver and cringe at the thought of a romantic interest. 

Little did you know, though. Haechan gazes at you with longing eyes, endless daydreams of you swirling around his head. He bites his tongue though, holding back his dying confession. While Haechan doesn’t believe he’s the ugliest guy in the world, he lacks a lot of confidence in himself. A big reason why he doesn’t pursue anyone is because he’s afraid of rejection and solidifying his insecurities. 

He knows he’s a nerd, at least he’s self aware. Nonetheless, there isn’t anything that causes him to change. Perhaps, he has fallen too far into his own comfort to come out of it. He needs something to propel the change, yet he doesn’t know what. 

“None of this is making any sense.” A heavy sigh falls from your lips again, probably your fifth one since you two turned the page. “I’m losing it. My concentration.”

“Did you want to stop then?” You wished Haechan would just end it or make the decision on his own. “I’m good with either option.” But you can’t blame him for taking your thoughts into consideration.

“Let’s just stop. I have to get ready for a party tonight anyways.” You shut your dusty textbook and begin packing your things.

Haechan follows, “oh. What’s the occasion?” 

You laugh slightly at his innocence. “When did people in college ever need an occasion to throw a party?” Haechan frowns, but notes how you’re correct. He does believe he is one of the rare ones with a life outside of alcohol and drugs. 

“What I meant is if you’re celebrating anything in particular?” 

You try to remember why you and your housemates decided to get drunk on a random Friday night in March. It finally clicks and you almost jump out of your seat from excitement. “Julie finally broke up with her boyfriend!” 

“The one she had been dating since middle school?” Haechan inquires, genuinely surprised that your housemate gained the courage to break up with her horrible boyfriend. Despite his lack of romantic experience, Haechan can tell when relationships aren’t healthy and what bare minimum standards are.

“Yes!” Your favorite attribute about Haechan is that he remembers the details about things you say. It’s actually quite thoughtful and it is a main reason why you began looking for that attribute in other people you meet. “He is out of her life for good! We are celebrating this victory, care to join us?”

Haechan always feels bad when he declines your invitations to parties, but it really isn’t his scene and he really does not enjoy being surrounded by drunk people who can barely keep themselves standing. Nonetheless, your eyes and smile are so tempting. They remind him of the lengths he’d go for you..

“Julie finally dumped her boyfriend and now, the Lee Haechan is finally coming to one of our parties!” You squeal so happily. He could only wonder how he can keep you grinning like this forever.

He couldn’t hold back a smile himself, “okay, don’t be so dramatic. I’ve come before! Your housewarming.”

“That’s because I deliberately asked you to come with me to party prep and forced you to stay when the party began.” You rolled your eyes and swung your backpack over your shoulder. “You were halfway out the door before I dragged you back in and told you to take a shot with us.”

“Right, so my point stands. I have been to one of your parties before, whether voluntary or not.” He chuckles, really cracking himself with how you essentially proved his point with your counterargument.

You knew how to be playful with Haechan and didn’t shy away from teasing him when others have a tendency in protecting him against harm’s way. You treated him so freely.

“You just always have to be right, don’t you?” You slightly pinch the fabric of his sleeve and he jumps at the touch. You giggle to yourself, satisfied by the tiny reaction you were aiming for. “It’s BYOB, so bring something you’d drink because I won’t be surprised if drunk me makes you finish it on your own.”

Haechan gulps, “that sounds very threatening.” You’re already walking to the parking structure to your car. He watches as your fading figure disappears and makes his way back to his own.

Haechan exhales a huge sigh that had filled his lungs. His hands grip the steering wheel loosely, replaying the moments with you from earlier. He can’t stop thinking about the way you tuck your hair back during a difficult problem, or how many times you were cutely distracted by something on your phone. He could live with these memories on loop in his head and be the happiest person alive. 

Is this what being in love with someone feels like? He thinks that it has to be quite close.  Haechan can still remember the day his feelings for you began and how strong they slowly grew.

You were always around him – in his classes, friends of friends, passing by in the hallways — it was hard for him to shake these feelings. High school was honestly a blur for him because of his expectation and pressure to get into the best college and graduate with honors. 

A secret he still holds for himself is the reason behind his choice of college. Haechan never had the courage in high school to grow closer, he just never found a logical reason to do so without feeling as if he was coming off too strong. Nonetheless, the month that college acceptances came out and everyone started announcing where they planned to go, Haechan was the only one left undecided.

He was accepted into major prestigious private universities and the best of the public school system has to offer. These were colleges that classmates cried when they got rejected, dream colleges all just handed to Haechan on a silver platter. All the while, Haechan was struggling with moving on from his first love.

He knew it was dumb, actually ridiculous that he would follow a girl to college. But somewhere, somehow, some part of his mind wanted to act irrationally for once. So, when he heard your choice of college… he found it in himself to accept the full scholarship and join you. 

Now he had the opportunity to grow close. 

Everyone was baffled by the decision, clearly not knowing his reasoning behind it. He refused to tell a soul, even his best friends. While this college was still a great school, there were others that were better. But Haechan only wanted you. 

He wanted college to be something different. He can lose himself in numbers and books all he wants, but nothing completes him as much as spending time with you. No more missed opportunities to be with you.

Unlike many others who are confused with their feelings, Haechan was only ever certain about you. You were incredibly lovable, there wasn’t a single person you came across that could dislike you. Your laugh is infectious, it’s one of his favorite quirks about you. Your heart shares its space for so many others– generous, kind, considerate –you are the exact person he’d fall for.

He is so grateful to be a part of the same lifetime as you. Somewhere, somehow, you two crossed paths and he couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were a mark in his brain that he couldn’t wash off. He can’t imagine a world without you. That is how far his love for you spans. It’s unimaginably catastrophic. 

Haechan walks into your lively apartment, hands gripping the neck of two soju bottles and sweat already forming in his pits. The nervousness settles into his stomach as he maneuvers his way around warm bodies to find you. He has been to your apartment plenty of times before, so it feels much smaller when it’s full of people.

“Hey!” A firm hand lands on his shoulder. He spins around to see you grinning ear to ear and a shot of clear liquid in one hand. “You made it and you brought soju!” 

You pat his head, almost too lovingly. “I’m proud of this character development.” Giggling, you hand him the shot and hurry to pour yourself one as well. “Let’s take one together.”

“I just got here, y/n.” Haechan feels the gag in the back of his throat already. He takes a whiff of the mysterious liquid and almost chokes at the putrid stench. “Tequila.” He grumbles.

“You won’t suffer alone.” You smile and hold up your tiny glass for a toast. “Bottoms up!” You say as you throw your head back and take the alcohol like a champ. Haechan hesitates, admiring you in the darkness and rainbow lights.

He feels like he’s seen this scene before, whether in his dreams or imaginations. The way your hair falls back, the rim of the glass barely touching your lips, the wince in your facial expression, you really glow underneath it all. 

Haechan quickly catches up with the shot, knowing that a lingering stare will need explanation. The burning liquid runs down his throat and he has to hold himself back from anything coming back up.

“That is rancid.”

“It’s cheap tequila.” You laugh, already three shots in and feeling something hazy in your system. A group of individuals walk through the door and you’re quickly being pulled away to greet them. He can feel the disappointment crawling up his chest, but he knows better than to cling onto you at a social event that you’re hosting.

He looks around the room at unfamiliar faces and feels rather jealous at all the people that think they know you. They won’t ever know you how he does. That is one thing he is absolutely sure about. 

“Did you invite the others?” Your voice surprises him from his monologue. “Why’d you come alone?”

“They’re on their way. Jeno and Jaemin were held up at their biking club meeting.” Though you weren’t explicit about whether or not that invitation was extended to his best friends, he knew they were always welcomed. It came to the point where Haechan stopped inviting them around so he could spend more alone time with you. 

You nod, opening the soju he brought and pouring you both a shot. You are oddly quiet in contemplation. “You know… now that Julie is single…” the silence between the two of you feels thick in this stuffy apartment. He can’t tell where you’re going with this. “Why don’t you try giving dating a shot? She thinks you’re her type.” 

He is taken aback, clearing his throat nervously. You have never brought up romantic interests with him before. His throat closes up, not picturing that this is how the conversation would be. “How am I her type? Her boyfriend was completely different from me. He’s dumb, I’m smart.”

Haechan pushes his glasses up on his nose and waits for your explanation. He’ll be honest with himself: it did intrigue him that someone found interest in him. He has never really had that before and it has hindered his confidence. 

“She’s into that nerdy, good boy type. A guy that gets no girls so they worship the girl they end up with.” Haechan almost chokes on his spit upon hearing your explanation. You can’t be serious. He looks over at your unwavering expression and sighs, you are most definitely serious. 

“You think I’m a good boy type?” Haechan didn’t know why that part stuck out the most to him. He was fine with being a nerdy guy and he knew the worshiping was just nonsense. However, the good boy type seems a bit unwarranted. 

“Yeah, the only rule you break is probably your personal curfew. You don’t drink often, you don’t do drugs, you definitely don’t sell them either. You’re good, Haechan. A nice, good boy type that is kind.” Hearing you describe him in this way puzzles him greatly. He didn’t know you thought of him this way, not that he would ever initiate that conversation himself. 

He doesn’t say anything. For a moment, he is too shocked to even process what you just said. He isn’t sure if he should feel offended or slightly flattered that you have considered him romantically. 

You peek over at the silent boy, feeling a bit guilty at how ruthlessly shameless you were just being. You gently poke at his arm. “It’s not a bad thing… to be good.” 

He shrugs, “but Julie isn’t my type.”

Your eyes light up with wonder and curiosity, “you have a type? Since when did you ever think about a romantic interest?” 

Haechan feels sheepish, knowing that he is treading into dangerous waters the more he speaks. “I don’t know. I just know that she’s not.” 

You read his closed off demeanor and think that it’s best to not edge him on. Haechan has always been secretive or cold when it came to topics on relationships and romance. Nonetheless, you brush it off as it seems like something he doesn’t want to talk about. 

The conversation of his romantic interests does make you wonder… after all these years, was there someone out there that caused his heart to flutter the same way that math did? The thought of someone making Haechan doe-eyed and lovesick is a sweet and innocent thought. You could only wish for the best person for him.

Jeno, Jaemin and Renjun enter the scene, rather uncomfortable from the minute they step inside the apartment. “Hey….” Renjun barely mutters throughout all the noise. His hands are deep into his pockets and his shoulders are up to his ears.

These awkward, clueless boys. You run up and give Renjun a big hug, causing him to shudder and not reciprocate the gesture. “What took so long?”

“Jeno was interested in one of the bike locks our senior brought to show us.” Jaemin chimed excitedly, as if his mind was still on the impressive bike lock. “Long time no see, y/n.”

“Yeah, Haechan keeps saying you’re all too busy for me now.” You sigh. Jeno and Haechan take a quick second to exchange glances before nodding in agreement. 

“Yeah, more hands on work now.” Jeno rubs his hands happily with a cute grin. “So, how long are you going to hold Haechan captive for?” He playfully pokes at your arm. 

“Oh, not for long. You’re all free to go if you don’t feel comfortable staying. It was just nice to see you in a different setting.” Your gentle smile showed guilt in making Haechan come to your parties when they were completely pushing him out of his comfort zone. Yet, you still don’t understand the lengths he would go for you.

Before Haechan is able to say goodbye, you’re being dragged away by Julie into some dark corner. Haechan rolls his eyes annoyingly at how popular you are. “Ready to go, bud?” Jaemin asks the unmoving boy. 

“Just give me a moment, I want to say goodbye.” 

“Aw, so romantic.” Renjun snarks, bitterly and sarcastically. “Make it quick. I parked in a loading zone.” His face falls flat, meaning serious business.

Renjun, Jaemin and Jeno disappear from the party as if they never arrived. Haechan makes his way around warm bodies to find you, but the darkness hinders spotting you with a naked eye.

He spots Julie in the hallway with a facial expression of glee chatting with you. He is ready to interrupt, but the conversation catches his attention and he stops around the corner to eavesdrop, “well, what did Haechan say?”

His heart is practically in his throat. A part of him does feel slightly guilty for rejecting her, but he can’t deny the feelings he has for you. “He said you’re not his type.” You are so blunt with the statement, like there is no ounce of empathy in your voice.

“Are you just making that up?” Julie always had an edge in her tone when she spoke. 

“Why the hell would I make that up? That’s all he said.” 

“Yeah, that’s a shame. I’m sure we all know who his type actually is.” That matter of fact answer causes panic to rise in his chest. Haechan seriously needed to leave. He shouldn’t keep listening, but his feet are stuck to the ground. 

“What are you saying?” He wants to barge in now. Stop it all now. 

“You really don’t see the way he looks at you?” Julie sighs, “he would practically die for you.” 

In that very moment, Haechan feels his entire world collapse. He never wanted you to find out this way. Haechan had imagined the perfect confession – one where he could still save his ass if you rejected him.

He doesn’t know how Julie knew, but she had been the observant type. He would’ve never thought that you’d find out through her of all the people in the world. 

“He’s a good friend.” You’re in denial. Haechan could already tell from your response. 

“Yeah, he is. But he is also in love with you.” The frustration in Julie’s voice definitely indicates her envy has been festering for quite some time now. His knees go weak, losing his mind as you continue to deny her accusations. 

“Why are you being so in denial about it?” Julie retorts. “Don’t want it to be true?”

“I don’t. He is nowhere near my type at all.” You gulp. “I could never see him romantically and I don’t want to. I like how we are now.”

Haechan cannot stand to listen any more. It’s as if an iron fist smashed his heart into tiny pieces, beyond repair. While it felt unfair that you had to hear it from Julie, it felt ten times worse hearing your rejection.

Because Haechan knows. If he had been the one to confess directly to you, you would’ve sugar coated your confession. So, a mixture of emotions flood into his system. He’s rushing out of the party without a goodbye and his heart left on your living room floor. 

Dying for someone is dramatic, insanely impractical, lacking in logic. Nonetheless, Haechan would do it without any ounce of hesitation or thought. He would change the weather if it would make you happy. Haechan would adjust time if it meant he could spend more of it with you.

You just had to say it. 

He wishes he could take your rejection without a heavy heart. He had to have weighed the consequences of this outcome – he couldn’t guarantee that you’d feel the same way. He had to know that. His logical side would not let him sleep without acknowledging that possibility, as much as his heart believed you felt the same butterflies he felt.

So why can’t he stop the pain that is stabbing him in the chest? Why do tears blur his vision the more he replays your voice in his head?

He can remind himself all he wants on how your feelings are not obligated to be reciprocated. Nonetheless, this gut wrenching heartbreak has him spiraling out of control and losing himself in it all. 

He will never forgive himself for how much he loves you. You never wanted that love to begin with, yet he allowed himself to love you like you were his lifeline. Haechan will never forgive himself for being so hopeless.

He will never forgive himself for dying for you like he is now. Killing the feelings he hopes he will never feel again for you. Haechan would die for you, even if it meant that he would never feel this love for you ever again.

...to heartless: read

[khaire-traveler]

Speaking of my experiences in Greece 🇬🇷

~ You can skip this post if you want lol; I just wanted to talk about my love for Greece and the trip I just took ~

I can honestly say that my trip to Greece has changed me as a person. I went at a time in my life where everything felt hopeless and I was processing some very major, very recent, traumas. To say the least, I was very stressed out leading up to this trip, and I remember praying to Hermes and Apollo for a life-changing experience in Greece, begging them for something to genuinely look forward to. And I got exactly what I asked for.

I have realized how seriously I've been taking both myself and the world around me and how much I desperately needed to take a step back and just enjoy life as it comes.

On my trip, I unfortunately got sick, and it made a lot of things very difficult. We had somewhat of a schedule to follow in the beginning, so it felt like I was struggling to keep up with everyone with my cold slowing me down. All I could think about was how much it sucked to be me, how much it sucked that I could barely keep up with everyone, how much I was a burden on others for something I literally could not control. And after needing to miss a night of festivities in order to finally rest, I realized just how harmful that thinking was. I finally noticed that hey, I have some actual agency over the thoughts I think and the things I feel. I thought I was at the mercy of mental illness and trauma, but as I took that day to rest, I realized that I really just needed to take care of myself and enjoy the things that I could participate in.

I also realized my POTS - a heart-related condition I have - does not have the right to control my entire life. I had to push myself quite hard in Greece, mostly in the last five days of our trip which was in Athens. It was blisteringly hot, and I had literal drops of sweat rolling down my face from the heat alone. Heat is a trigger of my POTS, so I was very concerned that something bad would happen but was extremely surprised when it didn't. Granted, my heart rate was constantly elevated - between 120-130 bpm - but overall, I was able to push myself to walk much farther than I ever thought I could. Although I'd never want to push myself that hard at a job (that would get exhausting to do each and every day 💀), I did at least find out that my limits are a lot further along than I previously assumed.

This experience has taught me so many things. Independence from my parents is essential and should be my first focus, any goal can be achieved through hard work and tenacity, I need to sit down and think about what I want to achieve in life and what gives me passion, self-confidence is crucial, who gives a single fuck what other people say or think if I'm happy, pessimism is not the same as realism, sometimes I make myself unhappy by solely focusing on the negatives, look at the world through the lens of child where even little things are amazingly captivating, it's ok to be generous with others as long as I'm also taking care of my own needs, I'm capable of doing a lot more physical activity before having health issues than I thought, and I will straight up never complain about being too hot ever again.

The Greek people are so impressively hard-working! They put a lot of passion and care into the things they love, and it was genuinely really inspiring. I'm so grateful I was able to participate in cultural traditions while I was there. Everyone was incredibly inviting, and it was refreshing to see such strong cultural values and traditions. Even when I was feeling shy or lacked confidence, I was encouraged to participate and just have a good time (being a bit tipsy made it all the merrier lol). I absolutely love Greece! I truly hope I can visit again soon.

I can't thank my gods enough for answering my prayers and providing me with something that will influence my life, and even my worship, from now on. I can't thank the people I met enough for teaching me lessons I never knew I needed to learn and treating me like a close friend or family. I'm so grateful for all the things I learned in Greece. I can now only hope that I will continue to change for the better.

[the-kcm-muggleborn]

Kind For You

Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy

O/C: Sebastian Sallow x Edwart Thompson x Ominis Gaunt ✨️platonic✨️ (My OC)

Warnings: None:)

Word count: <3k

Chapter 4

Part 7

“Are you alright?” Sebastian asked with concern while walking to the Undercroft with Edwart.

His friend was shaking from the winter cold that haunted the castle along with many ghosts. Edwart was dressed in a 3 piece school uniform with black gloves and a scarf tightly wrapped around his neck.

“No… I'm freezing!” Edwart mumbled under his scarf.

Sebastian, like many other students used to the Scottish cold, wasn't wearing any scarf nor gloves. No need to protect himself from something he wasn’t affected by.

“Don't laugh at me!” Edwart grumbled a bit louder when he heard Sebastian chuckle.

“I’m sorry,” Sebastian continued, chuckling under his breath. “It’s just funny to see this cold when it’s only the 1st of December.”

“I was raised in the Welsh country by the coast! Here I’m constantly…” Edwart sneezed before he could finish his sentence. “...cold.”

“Merlin. We don’t want you sick now, do we.” Sebastian stopped, took out his wand, and before he got to say anything, Ed muttered a sassy comeback. “I’m already sick… I wonder why.” 

Sebastian definitely heard that and remembering what Ominis said at breakfast he felt a pang of well-hidden guilt, he decided to ignore it. Instead, he muttered an incantation. Edwart looked curiously and suddenly exhaled a sound of deep pleasure.

“This should make you feel a bit warmer.” Sebastian smiled.

“Ahh, it does. Thank you, Sebastian.” Edwart has genuinely returned his friend’s smile.

Sebastian felt his cheeks get slightly warmer. “I don't think I've ever seen him smile like that… He's looking a bit… endearing.” He thought. Sebastian took a moment to stare at Edwart's hazel eyes. They were practically shining in the cold winter sun, his true smile was adding to it all. Finally, Sebastian cleared his throat and responded. “Of course. Let's go to the Undercroft, shall we?”

Edwart cleared his throat as well. “Yes. Let's go.” Both boys continued walking in silence this time.

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

“So... what did you discover in the spellbook we found in the scriptorium?” Edwart asked as he took his scarf off in the Undercroft. It felt surprisingly warm there.

“Salazar Slytherin's spellbook was a little difficult to interpret but fascinating,” Sebastian spoke as he showed the book lying on a small desk. “Evidently, he encouraged teaching Dark Magic at Hogwarts. Neither the Imperius Curse nor the Killing Curse was unforgivable during his time. He believed students should be prepared to use Dark Magic when necessary - not to fear it.”

Edwart internally cringed at the opinions his friend was speaking aloud. It was audible that Sebastian was not only fascinated but also impressed by Dark Art’s. Edwart was feeling strangely uncomfortable.

Sebastian kept speaking. “That's why we had to use Crucio to gain access to the scriptorium. He didn't want his knowledge shared with anyone who was afraid of the power of Dark Magic.”

“I know we had to do it to open the Scriptorium, but It's not something I'd like to repeat.” Edwart stumbled with his word. He wanted to simply forget Ominis's word of how Crucio had to be intended to work…

“And I'm glad we did it. Because in the spellbook…” Sebastian began but Edwart, a bit shaken, interrupted him.

“You're… glad?” Edwart's mind started racing. Did Sebastian really hate him that much? Was all this fake? Or was this a manipulation? But for Sebastian to be glad Edwart got hurt...?

“I meant, I'm glad we entered the scriptorium,” Sebastian explained. “It will all be worth it in the end… We can realistically CURE Anne, Edwart. I know we can.” Sebastian grabbed Edwart by his shoulders, which made him quite uncomfortable. Ed had a bad feeling about all of this, especially the look in Sebastian’s eye. His behaviour was making Edwart feel like he was becoming a pawn in some sort of game he didn't understand very well. He shook away his gut feeling deciding to bet on trust this time. If Sebastian speaks so confidently, he must know what he’s doing… Ed was going to believe him. However pathetic, it may sound. He didn't want to lose his first-ever friend. And a good one at that…

Edwart exhaled heavily. “What did you find?”

Sebastian smiled gleefully at Edwart’s words and continued explaining. He took a step back and showed Edwart a page. 

“I found some sort of references to a lost relic which, from what I can tell, grants the holder the power to reverse Dark Magic curses.”

"Hmm…” Edwart muttered. “And you think this 'relic' might be able to save Anne.”

“Precisely.” Sebastian turned a page. “I plan to search for this relic, but I don't think we should tell anyone... Especially Ominis. He wouldn't understand”

Edwart shook his head in either disbelief or disappointment. Perhaps both. “Think for just a moment! We need to tell him. He went through hell and back for you to have that book and he deserves to know what you've learned.”

Sebastian swallowed hard. “You've seen how he frets about the Dark Arts-”

“Sebastian…” Edwart cut in as he took the bridge of his nose in his fingers in exasperation. "As if Ominis's concerns weren't valid!" Edwart thought.

“...I promise - I'll tell him when I've found the relic. When I know more, I shall send an owl. I need to reexamine this map…”

Edwart exhaled heavily again as he turned around.

“…And don't feel sorry for Ominis. Keeping this to ourselves for now is for his own good.” Sebastian spoke one more time. His voice was a bit quiet as if there was a shred of decency left in him. As if…

Then, when Edwart raised his sight at the exit of the Undercroft, he saw Ominis before he heard him. “I'll decide what's for my own good!” Ominis's voice was full of emotions.

“Ominis - We were just about to get some air. Care to join?” Sebastian clearly wanted to defuse the conversation that was about to blow up in his face.

“You're a liar, Sebastian. I heard everything. You swore you'd never engage in anything to do with Dark Magic again.”

“No, I didn't.” Sebastian lied. Edwart could see clear as day. “I said I understood you wanting that. I'd never swear to give up on finding a cure for Anne.”

“You don't know when to stop, do you?” Ominis's voice betrayed his emotions. Absolute hopelessness along with hurt. Edwart was perplexed about what to do.

“I know when not to stop. Leave this alone, Ominis… I'll be on my way.” Sebastian looked at Edwart and silently nodded his way. 

“l am not letting this go,” Ominis mumbled as Sebastian left the Undercroft.

Edwart didn't know what to do… He felt his lungs tighten again. He cared deeply about both of the boys. It seemed he had to choose a side... “Ominis, Sebastian meant well-” Ed tried explaining Sebastian’s behaviour, but Ominis interrupted him.

“I appreciate you telling Sebastian not to keep this from me, but going after that relic is not a good idea.” Ominis exhaled heavily. Edwart knew it wouldn't be fair to hide it from his friend.

“Sebastian doesn't even realise it, but he's as irresponsible and reckless now as his parents were years ago. It's why they died.”

Edwart knew it was a touchy subject. He decided it was a topic for another time. "Poor Anne and Sebastian...”

“That's why I can't understand Sebastian's recklessness. I've practically lost Anne. I cannot lose Sebastian, too.” There was an awful cry-like sound in Ominis's voice.

Edwart didn't know what was right. So Ominis pleaded. “Please. Avoid anything to do with that spellbook.”

Edwart took a deep breath. He felt as if he was suffocating. “Some references Sebastian mentioned in the book do worry me…”

Ominis exhaled a relief. “I'm glad you understand. I hope Sebastian pursues this no further. But, if you think he might please, let me know…” 

“I-” Edwart felt like he couldn't breathe. He certainly couldn't speak. He started violently coughing beyond control. So much so Ed grabbed onto his chest and kneeled on the cold stone floor to try and catch a breath.

“H-hey.” Ominis took a step closer. “Are you quite alright?” 

Edwart tried to take a deep breath but couldn't. After a longer mo,ent when a coughing fit had come to an end. Ominis asked:

“Edwart… What’s the matter with you? I've heard you coughing all over the castle. Are you… sick?”

After a moment. Ed spoke up with a weak voice. “I think it’s time I go to the nurse Blainey...”

“Oh, definitely it's time. I’ll go with you. Make sure you don't hurt yourself.” Ominis offered a hand. Which Edwart gladly took.

“Thank you Ominis.” Edwart gladly took Ominis's help as they went to the hospital wing.

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

“I’m sorry… what?” Edwart asked as if he didn't hear Nurse Blainey correctly.

“Pneumonia.” Nurse Blainey said as she gave him the hospital clothes to change into. “I'm surprised you've lasted on your feet this long… You have to stay in here for 2 to 3 days.”

Edwart didn't feel like arguing that day. He was stubborn, not stupid. His throat and chest hurt from constant coughing. He just quietly signed and looked at Ominis who was visibly frowning at Edwart’s poor state. “Ominis? Could you… maybe… Help me with schoolwork? While I stay here.” He sighed grumpily.

Ominis silently chuckled. “Of course I will. Would you like me to tell Sebastian?”

“Erm- yes. Thank you. I- I'll stay here then…” Edwart felt uneasy. He hated taking things easy. Now he had to do that for 3 days. Sounded like true torture but Edwart didn't want to complain in front of Ominis. He had enough on his plate already. 

In his time in the hospital wing Edwart never truly stopped working. He finished all his written assignments in one day. He read many of his assigned books and topics. He was dying of boredom. 

Thankfully few people did drop by to lighten Edwart’s sour mood. Professor Fig, Natty, Poppy and Ominis came in every day for a longer bit. But no sign of Sebastian…

“Hello, Edwart. How’s your recovery going?” Ominis chuckled. He was most likely glad to see Edwart chained to a bed, unable to risk his life. Especially after scriptorium.

“Dreadfully boring I’m afraid.” Edwart smiled. “I’m still having chest pains but it's not as bad.”

Ominis nodded and smiled as well. “In that case… I have something for you.” He handed Edwart a chocolate frog.

“Oh, Ominis! They’re my favourite. Thank you.” Edwart ate the chocolate frog and decided to ask his friend a burning question he had. “Ominis? I know it's… Do you know where is Sebastian?” 

Ominis signed heavily. “I couldn't find him anywhere. I don't know where he might be…” 

Edwart didn't know what he was expecting. His gut feeling was warning him of Sebastian’s behaviour. Ed was probably being used. Sebastian probably- “I know you're worried about Sebastian too.” Ominis's words interrupted Ed's terrible train of thought.

Edwart took a deep breath. “Ominis… I'm bloody terrified. He might be doing something stupid a- and I'm stuck here.”

Ominis gently touched Edwart’s hand. “I know. But I'm sure he'd wait for you. He's probably… doing more research with that cursed book.” 

“Let's hope…” Edwart was a ball of nerves lately. There's only one thing that would lift his mind. “Hey, could you ask Miss Blainey about my notebook? And a pencil? I think I left it with my robes.”

“Erm- Sure?” Ominis said with slight curiosity. When he handed it to Edwart he immediately started drawing.

“What are you doing?” Ominis asked with a breathless chuckle. 

“I’m- erm, drawing,” Edwart said a bit sheepishly.

“I didn't know you drew.” Ominis smiled comfortingly. “That's… interesting.”

“I love drawing.” Ed smiled shyly. “I don't do it very often…”

“Why?” Ominis asked, puzzled.

“Never have the time nowadays.” Edwart's smile slipped into absent-minded scribing against a yellow paper. “I'm glad I joined Hogwarts.”

“Me too. Glad I don't have to deal with Sebastian’s foolishness alone.” Ominis chuckled.

Edwart chuckles as well. “Wow… This is awfully crooked. Glad you can't see it.” He put his notebook on the table next to Ominis.

“Wish I could be the judge of that.” Ominis stood up. “I have to go back to classes. I'll drop by later.”

“Thank you, Ominis.” Ed smiled. “For… everything.” he finished that sentence in his mind.

“Nothing to thank me for...” Ominis smiled one last time and left the hospital wing.

Edwart couldn't be more grateful. He just wished Sebastian had visited him…

<Part 6 /// Part 8>

MASTERLIST

-------------- Author's notes:--------------

Thank you so much for reading Part 7! I know another long one. The drawing is just a new small thing you've learned about Edwart:). Sheesh. And you're probably wondering why I added a scene with Edwart in the hospital wing. There's a good reason for everything. Hope you enjoyed this one! Already working on another one.

[toldbytendo]

Ahem, *mic check* “attention all pick-me’s + di*k riders, keep scrolling, this is not for you.”

We good? Alright, let’s go. hiii my lovelies <33

So, I had a really lovely conversation the other day with a girl I met in a discord server the other day and my inner monologue went a lot like 🧠 “does she like me? am I doing too much? am I coming off a bit *too* strong?” Then, I saw a video today by @taomiekayy (tiktok) about friendships and how in her personal experience, it’s much easier building friendships with men than with women. Here’s my take on it.

I personally place such a high value on sisterhood and building female friendships, I crave it so much, it’s something I think I’m lacking more of, and while I completely value my friendships with my male friends, there is a deeper connection I’ve found, in female friendships. Because of this, I constantly find that I question myself a lot more as an individual, my actions, my behaviours, my words, whether or not I’m encroaching on her boundaries without realising, talking excessively, just everything essentially. Meanwhile, when I interact with men, I don’t really have intrusive thoughts like this because I’m finding that I’m less and less concerned with how I’m perceived by men because I just don’t care about their opinion, I think it goes without saying that this isn’t a ‘I hate men’ post, anyone who reads it as otherwise is being purposefully ignorant I feel. I genuinely respect and value women so much and think I begin to question myself more because I know how turbulent womanhood can be, oftentimes we’re caught between being social and building a community and protecting our peace and I begin to question whether I’m a disruption to that peace. PSA: I’m not trying to encourage anybody’s insecurities or for any women to question their self worth when speaking to anybody, I’m only acknowledging the reasons I find it harder to make female friends, and it’s not because women are inherently bitchy, negative or ‘harder to impress’. I think I definitely care more about respecting her and making conversations with her ones that she’ll enjoy and want more of than I do when interacting with men. Because I place less value on interactions with men (not my male friendships, if we made it to friendship, my love is unconditional and wholehearted — love you guys if you’re reading xoxo), I find it’s easier to be myself, to ignore what I consider to be my insecurities, things I may typically overthink about, I’m a lot more free and more myself because I don’t hold the opinions of men in high regard. Truthfully, I don’t know if these thoughts are normal to be honest, maybe they’re a sign that I need to do some work on myself internally or perhaps it’s just universal. I honestly don’t know, but I really did relate to this video a lot. I never gave it much thought until I saw this. It was reassuring to know that I’m not alone in this, I really do place so much more pressure on myself when it comes to building female friendships but I don’t think it’s a negative thing, like in most things lately, I’m trying to find the positive and this simply shows me the extremely high value that I place on sisterhood and having those female bonds in my life and no amount of minor temporary self deprecating thoughts will make me see being a girls girl and wanting to find my ‘for life’ girls a bad thing. Nothing in this post should be taken as a slander to the girlies with predominantly male friendships, if anything, it should be taken as a ‘I know you’ ‘I get you’ ‘I see you’ post because it truly is easier.

[astrowaffles]

The Megumi-Is-10 Incident

General Audiences | Family fluff, Megumi being a little shit

"What do you want for your birthday, Megs?"

"Dunno."

"Books?"

"Nah."

"Toys?"

"I've already got toys."

"Trip? Maybe to the zoo, or the aquarium, or-"

"I don't wanna go anywhere with you."

"You could go with Tsumiki, if you wanted. Or Shoko, or Nanami. Anyone, really."

Megumi seemed to be thinking about it; Gojo did his best not to feel offended. No kid really liked their parents, right?

"Nah," was what Megumi settled on.

"Gumi, we only have a week. I'm begging you, tell me what you want for your birthday."

"Anything's fine."

Gojo sighed. He could feel a migraine coming on.

"Cake? Do you want chocolate or something?"

"Confetti cake."

"Aha! Now we're getting somewhere!" Gojo wracked his brain for any previous mention of confetti cake, only to come up blank. It should be fine, right? Google was free. "Alright, so what presents do you want with your confetti cake?"

"Dunno."

Back to the cycle of doom.

----------- OR: Megumi's turning ten, Gojo searches for the Ultimate Present, and we all wish we were part of the Gojo-Fushiguro house

"What do you want for your birthday, Megs?"

"Dunno."

"Books?"

"Nah."

"Toys?"

"I've already got toys."

"Trip? Maybe to the zoo, or the aquarium, or-"

"I don't wanna go anywhere with you."

"You could go with Tsumiki, if you wanted. Or Shoko, or Nanami. Anyone, really."

Megumi seemed to be thinking about it; Gojo did his best not to feel offended. No kid really liked their parents, right?

"Nah," was what Megumi settled on. 

"Gumi, we only have a week. I'm begging you, tell me what you want for your birthday."

"Anything's fine."

Gojo sighed. He could feel a migraine coming on, but if he didn't get an answer now then Megumi wouldn't be getting anything for his birthday, and that was not how the Gojo-Fushiguro house worked.

"Cake? Do you want chocolate or something?"

"Confetti cake."

"Aha! Now we're getting somewhere!" Gojo wracked his brain for any previous mention of confetti cake, only to come up blank. It should be fine, right? Google was free. "Alright, so what presents do you want with your confetti cake?"

"Dunno."

Back to the cycle of doom. 

Gojo was ready to get down on his hands and knees to implore this kid to give him something, anything, to work with. So far he had: 1) confetti cake, 2) dinosaurs, but only when they're pink (?) and not when they're made of plastic, and 3) Tsumiki had to be there. So, in other words, he had nothing. Nothing at all. 

"Okay, well, think about it and get back to me, 'kay?"

Megumi nodded, apathetic look never leaving his face. It was almost as if he was trying to tell Gojo to give up and crawl back into his bedroom in defeat. 

Well, he'd always liked a challenge.

  "What do you think I should get Megumi for his birthday?"

Tsumiki looked a little like she'd been ambushed, but Gojo didn't have time to feel bad. He only had a few days left to get Megumi The Ultimate Birthday Present - and it had to be way better than the one he got last year. (To be fair, last year had been a genuine disaster, when the dude he'd hired to dress like a dinosaur and play with Megumi suddenly burst into tears halfway through Megumi's lecture on why his costume was biologically incorrect.)

"Uhhh...." Tsumiki paused to think. "Stuff for his dogs, maybe?"

"What, like dog toys?"

"Yes? Or beds or something. He's really attached to them."

Okay. That worked, but wasn't really impressive - plus, he didn't want to encourage Megumi to get too attached to the dogs in case they got destroyed later down the line.

"Anything...bigger?"

"Well, he'll like what other kids like, right? Bouncy castle? Slide? Disney princess?"

Gojo tried to imagine Megumi playing on a bouncy castle as Cinderella sang about mice and birds and stuff. It didn't really compute. He could almost see the black cloud of disappointment forming over Megumi's head as Cinderella hit the high note.

"I'll think about. Thanks, Miki."

"No problem."

A bouncy castle could work, if it was dog-claw proof, Gojo supposed. Megumi was less impressed by present worth and more impressed by present usefulness (see the time when he'd stared down a DS, and then reached for the ball of string next to it - a gag gift Gojo bought at the last minute), but a bouncy castle could be passed off as a training thing or something. That way, Gojo could take pictures of Megumi Being A Kid and he would be none the wiser until his 18th, when the photo albums would come out.

A sudden image of Megumi attacking the castle with the bread knife flashed through Gojo's mind.

On second thought, no bouncy castle.

"Why is this so hard?" he complained. Tsumiki shrugged and moved towards her bedroom, silently leaving Gojo to his despair. He considered making a list, Nanami-style, but it would be a pretty useless since he had no ideas. At all. Besides, Megumi, determined to be as unhelpful as possible, had purposely looked out every written memo of Gojo's ideas and written 'don't want it' across them in the wonky letters characteristic of a ten-year-old's handwriting. 

At this point, Gojo had Questions for whoever raised that kid.

Oh, wait. He raised him. 

Whoops.

   It was time, Gojo decided, to call in outside help.

"What do you mean, you don't know what to get him for his birthday?" Shoko's voice echoed through the tinny speakers of Gojo's phone.

"I mean, I don't know what to get him for his birthday."

"Isn't he, like, your son?"

"What? No! He's...my ward, or something."

"And that's not the same thing?"

"The only reason I have him is to train him."

"And that's why you're panicking about what to get him for his birthday?"

"Yeah."

"God, you are so stupid. What do you think he'd like?"

"I don't know?! Everything I've thought of he's said no to!"

"What kind of thing did he get before you had him?"

"What?"

"What did he get for his birthday when he was living with Toji?"

"Oh, uh...nothing, I think, 'cause Toji's a bastard who wouldn't even get his own kid a birthday cake."

"So why's Megumi being so picky?"

"You tell me! I can't understand it! It's not like he has a lot of stuff or a lot of birthdays or anything-"

"For one, he does have a lot of stuff, because you keep buying it. Two, maybe he's just uncomfortable? If he's never had a birthday, then he doesn't want to get his hopes up? Or maybe he doesn't want you to feel like you have to get a lot of stuff? Or-"

"He has had a birthday. Two, in fact. And they were both amazing, in my opinion."

"Didn't he make that dinosaur dude cry?"

"Okay, okay, I get it. Thanks, I guess."

"You aren't welcome. I expect repayment."

"In the form of an invite to Gumi's birthday?" Gojo offered hopefully.

"In the form of alcohol. Now go buy a birthday present or whatever."

Gojo huffed as she hung up, already counting how much money he was set to lose to Shoko's expensive tastes. An invite to Megumi's birthday would have been much easier. And cheaper. And would have made him feel less bad.

"Well, that was useless," he muttered, tempted to throw his phone (still displaying Shoko's icon) across the room in frustration. "What, so he doesn't want too much? Then why'd he mention confetti or whatever it was?"

He was almost ready to just march into Megumi's room and announce you're getting a mansion for your birthday, Megs! just to prove Megumi didn't have to hold back on the presents. Could he afford a mansion? Probably not, especially not at this time of year. That wasn't the point. The point was, if Megumi asked, he could have one. Gojo would find a way.

(Was Megumi really just a ward?)

"Satoru?" a small voice interrupted his thoughts. Gojo turned, spotting Megumi in the doorway.

"Hey, Gumi. Need something?"

"Uh...." 

Realising Megumi's head was craned right back to look at him, Gojo crouched down until they were face-to-face. It seemed to ease Megumi a little, who reached out to pull at one of Gojo's long fingers. "I heard your phone call."

"Oh?" Gojo inclined his head. "Any ideas?"

"I mean, I heard you say . . . I'm just here to train."

Ah.

"Oh, Megs, you know you live here. This is your home now."

"What about when you aren't training me anymore?"

"Megumi, when you are old and you go to Jujutsu Tech and you move into the dorms and make friends, you can still come hang out with me-"

"I don't mean that! You- you'll be far away then. You won't be my- my dad anymore."

Gojo's chest hurt. It was true, his legal guardianship of Megumi would terminate when Megumi passed into the Principal's hands, but Megumi didn't know that. Megumi was talking in emotional terms, and Gojo had had no idea this entire time.

"No, no, it's not like that. If you really-" he took a deep breath. "If you really see me as your- dad, then that's what I'll always be. Pinky promise."

"Pinky promise?" Megumi turned Gojo's hand to link their pinkies.

"Yeah. Pinky promise."

    "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIIIRTHDAY DEAR MEGUMIIIIIIII~ HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOOOOOOOOU!"

"Shut up," Megumi grouched, the tips of his ears turning red. Gojo cackled.

"Oh, come on, Gumi! It's your birthday! The big one-zero~"

"It's not that big of a deal." Megumi clambered into his seat at the dinner table, eyeing the single present with suspicion. "What's this? It's not a bomb, is it?"

"You ever seen a bomb shaped like this?" Gojo argued, waving the flat package at him. "Come onnnn, open itttttt-"

"I will, I will!" 

Megumi started undoing the sellotape excruciatingly slowly, probably just to spite Gojo, who liked to rip the paper off fast. 

"Come on, Gumi! We don't have all day!"

"It's Saturday. We do have all day."

"And you want to spend it all opening one present? You're not gonna have any time for Tsumiki's!"

Helpfully, Tsumiki rattled the box she was holding.

"Okay, okay," Megumi relented, ripping the paper a little so he could slide the present out. "What's this?" he added, staring at the pile of papers he'd unwrapped.

"Read it," Tsumiki encouraged.

"Megumi Fushiguro," Megumi read slowly. "Legal....what?"

Gojo nodded patiently and pointed to the next word. "Can you read that? It's quite difficult."

"I can," Megumi insisted. "Adop....shun.... papers. What are these?"

"Read it again."

Megumi's eyes scanned the page again, carefully sounding everything out under his breath. "Adoption?!" he breathed, eyes shining. "You're gonna be my dad?!"

"I already am, Megs, but this makes it all legal and stuff. You just have to write your name in the space, there."

"I don't have a pen!" Megumi panicked, snapping his head frantically to look at Tsumiki. "I can't sign it!"

"It's okay, Megumi," she comforted. "I have one."

Megumi grabbed it, turning back to the papers. Gojo pointed to the dotted line. 

"Here, Megs."

Megumi started tracing his name, letters beginning to tilt slightly but otherwise undeniably his most careful handwriting. As he dotted the last i, Gojo popped confetti aggressively in his face.

"Congrats, Megumi! You are now a Gojo!"

"Ew," Megumi commented, but his smile gave him away. "Can I have cake now?"

"Of course, Gumi. Anything you want."

A03 | Exclusives | Tip Me

[hexpea]

Ch. 12 - A Painful Memory

"Get your answers?" Satoru asked as you emerged from Tengen's residence. 

"In a way," you chuckled, smiling up at Satoru as you ascended the stairs. "Let's get back to Suguru."

"Ooo, are you two lovers now?" Satoru asked playfully as the two of you began your trek through the tunnel. He had thrown his arm around your shoulder with a clown-like grin on his face. 

"Satoru," you grumbled.

"What?! I'm just curious," Satoru laughed defensively. "Suguru's been through a lot. He deserves happiness, so...I just want to make sure he gets it one way or another."

You lightened up a bit at Satoru's resolve. "If you must know, we are working on it," you mumbled quietly.

"Working on it?!" He laughed again, his voice booming through the tunnel. "What's that mean?"

"We...said that we love each other last night," you continued to keep your voice low, unsure if you should really be spreading this information to Satoru. The guy seemed like a loud mouth to you. 

"That's huge!" Satoru celebrated. "Good for you two!"

"Sure," you blushed and looked away as the two of you continued, now approaching another set of stairs. "I just wonder how Suguru truly feels. I mean, he's the one who said it first but with the stuff you told me about and the stuff I just learned...it feels a whole lot more complicated than just an 'I love you.'"

"Wow, he said it first," Satoru's voice settled down, genuinely impressed at Suguru's bravery in that regard. "I'm sure he feels that for you 100%!"

You laughed at Satoru's demeanor. "It's not necessarily that I doubt that. There's just a lot that I've learned about just now that I need to talk to him about."

"Oh, got it," he nodded with a confident, close-lipped smile. "I'll butt out...for now."

Back at Suguru's apartment was your chance to speak to him about things. You especially wanted to learn more about what he went through those ten years ago. 

"Alright," Suguru placed his bag on the dining room table with a smile, "now are you gonna' tell me about your meeting with Tengen?" You had withheld the information at school when he asked about it, knowing that you were instead going to ask about sensitive information.

"I learned a lot," you smiled, plopping down on the sofa. Suguru came and joined you, giving you a funny look as you didn't continue speaking.  "I wanted to ask," you finally spoke, "about what happened ten years ago." Suguru shifted in his seat, visibly uncomfortable. "Satoru already told me a good chunk of it. I want to know what this Toji guy said to you to make you want to kill an entire village."

Suguru swallowed hard and looked away as he searched for the answer. "I had always lived under the philosophy that the strong should protect the weak -- the strong being jujutsu sorcerers and the weak being those without jujutsu."

"Right," you encouraged him to continue as you noticed he trailed off. It was clearly something painful for him to recall.

"It was a series of events, one after the other, that caused me to...lose my mind," he took a deep breath. "First, Riko was killed in front of me...just after I promised her freedom," he lingered on that thought for a moment, attempting to keep the tears he had at bay. "Shortly after, one of my underclassmen, Yu Haibara, was killed."

"But clearly what Toji said to you after Riko was killed was some sort of catalyst," you inquired again. "Gojo said that he said something to you and you weren't the same after that."

"Right," Suguru nodded. You watched as his pupils dilated in fear, reliving the moment. You almost felt guilty, but you needed to know. "He damn near killed me...and as I lay on the brick floor bleeding out," he paused, hearing the words over and over in his head like a curse, "he said, 'you with your blessings...lost to a monkey like me who can't even use jujutsu.' And the thing was...he wasn't even wrong."

The memory must have been incredibly vivid for him to remember what the man had said to him word for word. You waited patiently for Suguru to relax after reliving the memory. 

"After that and Haibara's death, I was sent out to a village. I was already feeling...off. When I got there, they had two...little...girls in a cage." You could see him visibly grind his teeth as he spoke about these girls. "They had abilities and the people there were...afraid of them...so they locked them away and I just...couldn't let them get away with it." He balled up his fists, clearly something was boiling within him.

"Okay...Suguru," you began to panic, grabbing his hands that sat in his lap. You hoped that your asking hadn't just set him back a few years in recovery. "What happened after that?" You hoped that if he remembered the resolution it would calm him back down. 

"I wanted to kill them...all of them...right then and there," his voice was low, nearly growling, as he continued the story. "But something inside of me was holding me back...it was almost like some kind of voice reminding me that I had something to hold onto..." his eyes widened as he described it. "And then I got a phone call...from Satoru," Suguru chuckled, coming out of his induced rage, "checking up on me. I wound up telling him that I needed his help. He came out and finished the job for me."

"What happened to the village, then?" You wondered. "There had to be consequences for doing that to children."

Suguru nodded. "Yeah, there was a trial and everything. The right people were brought to justice. Yaga has been taking care of the girls...Nanako and Mimiko are their names."

"Oh! Aren't those the two in Satoru's first year class with Megumi, Nobara, and Yuji?" You asked excitedly.

"Yeah," Suguru smiled at you. "They're great, they're doing great." He paused to ruminate in his feelings for just a moment. When he had his moment, he looked back up at you. "Now are you going to tell me what Tengen told you?"

"Um, yes," you blushed, "I'm not immortal after all. They think it's either something Kenjaku did or something Sengoku did."

"Oh..." Suguru blinked in surprise. "You mean like a curse or something?"

You nodded, "if it's your grandfather, then it's a curse. The notebook..." You needn't explain any further.

"Got it," Suguru flattened his lips in guilt and nodded. "What about Kenjaku?"

"Tengen thinks that Kenjaku has my original body. That maybe because they're using it now I was awakened; that the soul is dormant within the body while they use it but because I can separate my...soul from my body, I can be here," you did your best to keep your explanation concise. 

"And when Kenjaku's done with it then you'll be..." Suguru connected the dots.

"Dead," you finished the sentence for him. 

"Then we need to find them," Suguru stood up. "We need to find them and put and end to them, figure out how to break the binding vow without killing you."

"But how?" You shrugged. "Breaking a binding vow always comes with a consequence, usually equal in severity. So a life for a life...right?"

Suguru stared at you. He felt trapped once again, this time jujutsu his enemy. He balled his hands into fists and stayed frozen, unable to figure out what the next move should be. 

"I mean, we can just try and rely on your grandfather's curse being the reason I'm here," you smiled weakly. "But at the end of the day, I just need to come to terms that I'm not actually permanent here."

"I can't lose you, Y/N," Suguru sat back down and squeezed your hands. "I can't, not again." 

What he said was pure accident. For 'Suguru' there was no again, it was further proof that Tengen's assumptions were correct.

"Suguru, you were born in 1990, right?" Your voice was small. He nodded. "So that means you're 28 years old, right?" He nodded again. (AN: Queue Bo Burnham voice: "Yeah, I was born in 1990.")

"I don't get where you're going with this," he chuckled softly, slightly shaking his head in a bit of confusion.

"Tengen said something to me before I left," you started nervously, "that he could sense Sengoku's energy...for at least the past 28 years."

Suguru started with a giggle. That giggle slowly turned into a chuckle and finally into a boisterous laugh. He wiped away a stray tear before he began speaking. "Are you trying to tell me that you think I'm my grandfather reincarnated?"

You stared at him silently as if to confirm. Suguru's face dropped. "Is it really that crazy to believe? If I might be here because of a curse that he caused...for us to be reborn together in another life?" Suguru continued staring at you in disbelief, jaw tensing and releasing repeatedly.  "Think about it, Suguru," you continued, "all of the coincidental moments where you've felt like you were remembering something... Is it really all that crazy?"

He thought about it for a few more seconds with an expression of complete awe on his face. His eyes slowly met yours. You squeezed his hands back, a bit tighter than he had, with a desperate look to return his. 

"I guess it's not," he admitted carefully. 

With his admission, you let yourself collapse into his arms, wrapping yours around his neck. He slowly wrapped his around your waist, pulling you closely the longer the embrace last as if he were coming to terms with the idea of reincarnation. It all just felt too good to be true. 

"But we still have the issue of Kenjaku," Suguru mumbled. "They took you away, so they have you in one way or another." The two of you pulled away from one another and he stared at you seriously. "I don't want to randomly lose you one day because Kenjaku decides to pull the plug. Even if that means we have to...capture them or something, keep them tied up until we grow old."

"But that's the thing," you shook your head sadly. "If Kenjaku's the real reason I'm here, I won't grow old. I'm technically dead already. You would grow old and I'd be...frozen. I think we may need to take a leap of faith..."

[kidflashimpulse]

Love how your readers vary from giving detailed paragraphs about how absolutely insanely talented you are to degenerates like me who saw Bart is staying at Ed’s and had their brain short circuit lmfaoo

Seriously though, every time you update I think there’s a whole horde of us that just froths at the mouth in joy. I never understood the hype around waiting for a fanfiction to update until I began reading your stuff. There’s something about it that draws the reader in so well and keeps us locked in. Honestly, you could probably go years without posting and the second you do, the people would lose it (that said, please don’t take years to post if you can help it lol). Thank you very much for sharing your thoughts and talents with us

both are equally so valid like first of all same (about short-circuiting at zetaflash the struggle is too real) SDFGHjK life is a spectrum and i’m so here for every single part of it !!!!

honestly this is just so crazy for me to read !!! i’ve mentioned this a couple times before but sometimes i’m a little nervous about going for the overarching story plot way with attempts at nuances and all that stuff cause i definitely understand how it’s like to read incomplete fics and the wonders of binge reading complete works, in an ideal world id have everything drafted in advance and post on a schedule (which is how AAIT started out) but turns out i rlly didn’t have the time for that at all 😭 so i was worried about keeping up the steam for its progress and updates, but then reading all the extremely kind words of encouragement, observations, impressions or general thought about every chapter, like wow !! it’s genuinely so amazing, seeing ppl picking up on the exact things i was going for and more, the fleshing it out even further with their own thoughts and impressions, it really adds another whole dimension to the fic that rlly makes the story more alive somehow. the comments really r the best thing out there and i definitely wouldn’t have been this far into the story at all as i am rn, or even as motivated to come up with different fics and plots/concepts to explore and write about. Might be a little cheesy but honestly this past year has been a little rough for me but being in this community has been definitely a highlight of it !! and i am so incredibly grateful for it <<333

thank you for your very sweet comment, it’s so appreciated 💛💛💛 and i do hope to finish AAIT sooner rather than later lol (optimistically/ideally by the end of the year/early next year, but we will see, there should be roughly 3-4 chapters left to it)

[revive-the-fandom]

Genuine question. Why do think jack frost doesn't like pranks?

sorry for leaving this so long, i was originally just gonna link this post and be done with it but i kinda want a second go at explaining it??? if not for anyone else then for my own sake lol

tbh that first post kinda reads as juvenile and defensive now that i re-read it...

i'll link @rotg-goc-headcanons idk if you were the anon or not but i figure you might be interested in a... more coherent explanation..

in the original post i got a bit side-tracked trying to prove one thing over the other. but i don't think this is a black/white situation in actuality. people are full of contradictions and i think in trying to prove that jack 100% at all times did not like pranks was working against me rather than for me.

so, i want to change my statement:

i disagree with the popular opinion (present in most fics and a lot of other fanworks) that jack is the prankster archetype.

i see a lot of people claiming that jack would be the type to set up pranks just for the fun of it. the kind of stuff you'll find on old school youtube where people run into clingfilm or replace icing with toothpaste etc. personally i find that doesn't match up with the canon version of events.

in canon, jack's pranks are very specific - they are a reaction to a specific person, and as such are tailored for that situation and individual.

jack has been seen to use pranks for the following:

to play with other kids and entice them into a game

to encourage the side-lined kid to join the game (and to overcome stereotypes and implied bullying)

as a defence in verbal fights

to deflect attention away from himself

as a distraction strategy in a literal fight

to calm down/cheer up/distract others in stressful situations

to bond with those around him

i think it's important to his character that he's not extreme in his use of pranks as some fanworks might suggest.

jack never seems to use pranks to draw attention to himself, or to make another person uncomfortable. i saw a few responses to my original response that mentioned that jack only really uses his pranks as a way to bring joy to others not to himself (i think it was @giantgirl253 but the tagging doesn't seem to work).

if you think about it, him being the prankster archetype that he's constantly characterised as doesn't mesh with him being good with kids or having the 'fun' centre. he would just come off as annoying (which i suppose is the most likely reason for why he gets written like this - to explain why bunny and north have a somewhat negative first impression of him.

ACTUALLY i think i may have stumbled onto the main problem with how jack is characterised.

a lot of people, in universe and in audience, tend to believe what they're told about jack rather than how we see him behave.)

i'd argue that jacks use of pranks is more in line with this dumb meme:

i'm also gonna reiterate that jack goes through a major character development (ofc he does he's the mc) i bring this up for two reasons:

firstly, bc a lot of people cite that first scene in moscow as a major reason as to why he should be characterised as a prankster when its showing him at his most immature, insecure and selfish point

secondly, bc the scene in moscow is a situation in which jack is still stuck in a neglectful and harmful environment which is eroding his ability to see things clearly (mostly affecting his ability to accept responsibility, something he was capable of in the prologue and the flashback, but not in the first half of the movie). his pranks are as much a (subconscious) cry for help as they are a coping mechanism for his lack of corporeality.

(btw i'm sticking with my original claim that north and sandy are the pranksters of the group. jack just gets carried along bc he's a good sport like that, and bunny... is competitive and insecure lol)

tldr: its not that i think jack dislikes pranks per se, but that jack has specific terms for how, when and who he uses his pranks on. he's not a cluster of personality traits that go full throttle at all times, he knows when to stop, when and where his actions change from playful to cruel.