#which has a title btw did I mention that?

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Day whatever the hell we're on now! 330, apparently. Which is an hour before the cat woke me up by screaming in my ear because he was out of food and water. Which, fair, that's a good reason to scream, but at 4:30 am and in my ear?! Jerk cat.

Anyway, Disgusted got redone and I'm happy enough with it that it's now inked and has the beginnings of color worked out! Tomorrow I'll finish that up, and then some time after that I'll figure out what to do with Shocked/Surprised and Silly.

Also, I made food!

I had a spare sweet potato and needed to use the last pound of beef from a 3lb tube of it I'd been using for Hamburger Helper beef stroganoff. Also included is creamed corn, beef ramen, garlic powder, onion powder, onion salt because I ran out of onion powder and it needed more salt anyway, black pepper, and soy sauce. It turned out tasty, but it also didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. If I do this again, I think next time I'm gonna cook the sweet potatoes first, then the beef, use beef broth instead of water to actually cook the things in, and add in some nice Parmesan cheese. Or I may just do it as a risotto; maybe fresh onion instead of powder will tie everything together better. Either way, I liked the taste and learned a couple things about cooking beef with sweet potatoes! Yay, me!

[hellbatschilt]

Oh yeah with 6.5 around the corner, I realized that I got both Hellbat, and X's main titles this patch! \o/

[cursedcola]

Prompt: "Will You Marry Me?" - Proposal Headcannons Characters: Everyone :) Part(s): Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle (Here!), Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia(Pt.1)(Pt.2) Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Warning(s): None. I mean, unless you don't want to marry any of them. Just don't read if that's the case. Note: These are all if he is the one proposing btw. I've been thinking about maybe programming a small fan-made mini-otome using these ideas. Just for some practice for school while also being self indulgent hehe

Azul Ashengrotto

Fortune. Azul is one fortunate soul. At least, not he thinks himself to be.

and to think that it's because of sheer luck. He did not work for you. He did not climb or claw or plan for you. He did nothing.

No, you chose him. You saw him at his lowest and decided that he was worth becoming friends with. You actively sought him out...just to spend time at his side. Regularly. You enjoyed Azul's company

and over time, he grew to enjoy yours. Immensely. Like a giddy school-girl, his heart fluttered at the thought of you and all his notebooks were covered in doodle hearts.

This was it for him. Azul is a one and done kind of man. It’s you or it’s no one. Which means that it obviously is going to be you because hello??? Azul is not a quitter.

During your younger years as students….he may have been a bit too ambitious. In other words, Azul has proposed many times

And in turn has been rejected. Many. Times.

It began passively. He’d mention here and there his future plans for after schooling. Try to talk himself up, yeah? He’s going to be a big business man, isn’t that just perfect husband material? He can take care of you easily so there’s no need to stress.

Naturally you pushed off these moments as daydreaming and casual joking. Nothing serious. So he ups his game. It just so happens that he mistakenly got a bridal magazine in the mail…oh, look at these dresses and suits! So fancy. So beautiful…oh, you would look absolutely darling in one.

….oh sweet merciful seven please take the HINT. He is LITERALLY throwing himself at you

He ups his game. Again. A romantic candle lit dinner for two. The works. Jazz music, slow dancing, good company, and the casual proposal y’know just your average date.

You have to be doing it on purpose

In your defense. He did not flat out say “will you marry me,” because he chickened out. Instead he asked if you’d like to live with him after graduation as…roommates.

The world is out to get this poor man. It is. It truly just wants him to crash and burn in embarrassment. The way you laughed and went “I think we’re a bit more than that, don’t you think?” HAUNTS him

He screamed into his pillow that night. For hours. Floyd still gives him shit for it

Life continues this way. For reasons unknown…he just couldn’t bring himself to be direct. Which is so unlike Azul considering he spent years toughening himself up.

Maybe deep down he did fear that things wouldn’t work out. A merman and a human…what if you did not want to lige in the sea? What if his body could not sustain human form for long term? Maybe he wanted you to take initiative and prove him wrong. Eventually he did give up.

At least until you both aged into the “roommates”he dreamed about. There were trials and compromise. He never thought to have two homes, one by the ocean and one literally inside of it. Life was perfect….just without the title. And on one random night, Azul thinks “One more time,”. No elaborate ruse. No trickery to get you to ask him. Just….

“Will you marry me?,” Azul whispered into your shoulder. You both lay together in your shared bedroom with nothing but the sound of crashing waves coming in from the outside. Your steady breathing halts, proving that you heard him. With a sigh, he reaches to massage your scalp, “I do not know if you have realized by now…no, I am sure of it. No one is that dense. I won’t pry for why you have ignored my past attempts…all I ask is that you answer this. Will you marry me, (Y/N)? Having you at my side has truly made me the most fortunate man alive,”

{ A black pearl over a gold band. One of the most ultimate displays of wealth. Azul is well aware that this is not the traditional pathway. He could have easily acquired a ‘genuine’ Pearl, perhaps a diamond - but no. You are a rarity. A true jewel. Only a ring worthy to reflect that is worth buying. You were the most unexpected thing and are now the most cherished. This ring represents that,}

Jade Leech

The want caught him by surprise one day, which is rare. Jade is never thrown off guard. At least, not easily.

Then again, you have always been the most difficult person for him to predict. Something he finds very charming since there is always an upbeat atmosphere wherever you go. If his days were a dimming flame, you would be just the right amount of Co2 to spark some fun - not that he would easily admit to it.

Albeit so, Jade is not blind to his emotions. He hides them well underneath a polite smile - but they are there. He is aware of them.

Which is why he snatched you up early on. A relationship was the last thing he thought to find on the surface (or in general, honestly), but Jade knows what he wants when he sees it.

He merely asks you on a date with confidence. You accept, and the process repeats until an unspoken bond formed between the two of you. Not a soul in the nearby vicinity would dare make a move on you with his lingering presence. Jade was pacified, entertained, and happily content with your circumstance.

A circumstance that Jade gets maybe a bit too comfortable with. Just like surprise, it takes a lot for Jade for feel secure. The only person he has truly felt that with is his brother. This lack of overbearing responsibility, where something is being unspoken. No ulterior motive or underlying tone in your actions that make him have to over-analyze.

In the beginning he thought of your bluntness as an extra entertainment factor. Something that he could count on to make those brief unpredictable situations amusing. Yet, as time passed he notices that it's comforting. When he's with you, Jade turns his brain off. Not entirely, of course. He still needs to throw in witty quips and fluster you at LEAST twice per day.

but it's different. It's a different comfort than what he feels with his sibling or with his friend. It's new, and strangely similar to how he feels when he forages while hiking. Perhaps finding peace in another person...maybe there is merit. Hah. Yet another surprise.

On an evening long past curfew, Jade was tending to his botany collection and miniature greenhouse. You sat on his bed, watching videos on your phone. It was almost like you weren't there with him, yet not since he felt your presence. However, there was no pressure to talk or be attentive. He found himself enjoying your presence alone, and it slipped.

"If this is how our days will be when we live together, then perhaps sharing one life is not as inconceivable as I once thought," he said amidst trimming one of his herb plants. Jade turns curiously when he hears a thump from behind, and sees you gawking at him. You had lost your grip on the cell phone, and it fell to the ground.

He eyes you suspiciously. What's startled you? He doubts that any video could render you speechless.

....he spoke aloud, yes? Not in his head. Now it's Jade's turn to lose his composure.

Another surprise, but this is his own doing. Jade has not had a slip of the tongue since his childhood. Even then it was rare. He's never experienced this kind of mess-up...yet, you don't appear appalled.

Jade places the clippers down, and coughs into his gloved hand, "well, it appears I have gotten a loose tongue. It must be from your influence, no doubt". He stands, and moves to sit next to you on his bed, "I've never spoken out of place before, you know. Do you know what this means? I've become weak...and perhaps it it is time you take responsibility for these newfound emotions. I fully intend for many moments like these to happen, and for you to not leave my side. When it is time to leave this place, I believe you will join me. No, I am certain of it"

{An eye of lapis. A reminder that he is always watching - waiting, to see you again. The gem is not see-through. It’s a tough stone. Yet it is beautiful and is appreciated nonetheless. Enough said}

Floyd leech

At first, you believed him to have an obsession. Many did, actually.

The judgement isn't uncalled for either. Floyd's emotions towards you are very strong. With the way he loves to tease and follow you around - he's got a deep attachment. He's always demanding your attention, pulling you from your duties, starting trouble, and nosy. Floyd is oh so nosy and into everything in your life.

You're a toy. His little Shrimpy. The plaything that he absolutely adores and loves to watch. You're the Friday night sitcom to his late-90s grandma.

That's how you see it because that's how he portrays it. With others in agreeance, it is easy to overlook the small undertones in his actions. Especially since he's a touchy and emotional person normally.

Somehow, Floyd had himself tricked as well. He didn't akin his emotions to obsession, but he did think that you were a toy that he would

eventually out-grow. At the start, it really was just a game for him. He liked your reactions and therefore decided to keep you around.

Yet, he never got bored. Eventually the fun events around you stopped being what he found interesting, and instead he liked you alone. Floyd being Floyd instantly tried to confess this, not wanting to waste another minute. Yet you never believed him.

He brushed it off. You'd come around. Not a day went by without him by your side. To the average onlooker (and you, to Floyd's dismay) this still appeared normal. Weeks past by like nothing.

Only the people closest to Floyd see the small giveaways. Like how he glares holes into the mirror portal every morning, or gets snappy with customers if you take too long to visit the Monstro Lounge at night. There's a booth saved, every evening with no student brave enough to go near it unless they want their head chopped off.

When he gives you a 'squeeze,' he never wraps his arms around your stomach. He instead smothers your head and goes tightly around the shoulders. Your squeezes are special. He loves them.

or the name 'Shrimpy'. How he says it to you in public, but in private he occasionally lets your real name slip out. This normally happens during moments when he feels "bored,"(i.e has nothing to talk about) or lighthearted (the rare moments when you get him to relax). Floyd has never said that name with anything other than a positive emotion, despite his mood swings. Shrimpy is his calling card for you, and only his. Yet your name is different. He feels a tummy-twisting kind of weird when he says it.

but the biggest change is Floyd's attitude towards danger when it comes to you. Before, he thrived on it. He liked to hear your stories and be part of the fun. He took joy from the scary adventures you got wrapped into; heck, he was one of them.

Now he gets morbid. Not like how he was before, with eerie threats and a suspenseful aura. He never actually acted unless told to do so, since the over-blots and delinquent students were your problem, not his.

One afternoon, you didn't show up to have lunch with him. That already made him irritable since you know better than to no-show. Did you want a squeeze? Huh, Shrimpy? He'll give you one later.

Then two students come in, all snickering and acting suspicious. Strike two. Now Floyd is upset AND annoyed. Others in the area can feel the animosity in the air.

"Did you see their face? Psh. That'll teach some snot-nosed no-mag to act all mighty. If they know what's good for them, they'll go back to whatever sh*t-hole they came from alrea-" The no-face couldn't finish his sentence. Not with one of the infamous Leech twins gripping his arm tight enough to snap bone.

Floyd smiled, "oh~ So you're the reason my little shrimp isn't eating lunch with me, aren't ya? So. What'd ya do? C'mon guys, I want to know what 'lesson' ya taught, " as Floyd spoke, his grip gradually tightened and he stared straight into the other student's eyes. Each word came out harsher than the last.

They broke quick, as he suspected. With a rough shove Floyd pushed them aside to find you. He had their faces memorized. Let them live in fear for a bit until he collects due payment. For now?

Floyd finds you at your home. He doesn't bother to knock and bursts through the front door, only to see you nursing a black eye on the couch with some ice. He wastes no time in taking it and kneeling in front of you.

Floyd holds the ice to your eye - a bit too harsh- and clenches his jaw when you wince. You won't meet his eyes and it only pisses him off more, "Oi. Look at me," and you do with your one eye. "Why didn't you call me. Why'd you not show up," You sigh and reach a hand to cover his, "because I knew you'd be pissed... I handled it, okay? No need to fake the whole 'I will protect you, my little Shrimpy' scenario. We both know that's not your thing, "

You're wrong. It's not a scenario. You can dismiss his flirting all you want, but even Floyd has a limit. Do you not see how absolutely wreaked overhearing those airheads made him? He's going to do worse than you can think. He won't kill them. No, he'll make sure that no one messes with you anymore. You can't see it, but on the inside he is over it. Done. Finished. Officially has 0% patience.

"Did you know that every time you spout crap like that, it pisses me off? I don't 'act,' because that's boring. I'm not lyin' when I say I like you, and you better start believin' it because I'm over the niceties. If someone messes with you, they mess with me. You're in deep (Y/N) and I'm not letting go, so wait here while I handle some little pests. I love ya. I act this way BECAUSE I love ya. Quit denying me already,"

No one will ever mess with you again. Not with the sparkly little gem on your ring finger, tying you to one of the largest and most threatening groups in the undersea world to date.

{ An aquamarine tear. In all honesty, Floyd did not put much thought into his gem. It sparkled. It is the color of his hair streak (or close to it). He imagined it on your finger and thought that it would stand out - ensuring that anyone and everyone could see it. He thought of your possible expression upon seeing it, and was sold}

[starlightkun]

➠ word count: 22.0k ➠ warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking (there’s a frat party), everything i know about hockey is from internet research for this fic i’m sorry for any inaccuracies i tried ➠ genre: fluff, gets quite suggestive (a heavy makeout scene/near sex scene) but no actual smut, college au, hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), halloween-themed at the beginning, sungchan’s not a frat boy but he’s like... a frat boy by association ➠ extra info: the ages/relative ages of the members in here are whatever i want them to be, don’t read into it too much. this is a very usamerican take on a college au btw. also i call kunhang ‘hendery’ in here like it’s his government name for a one-line gag bc i think i’m hilarious the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines and thoughts/experiences as a chronically ill person are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines and chronic illness, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds ➠ author’s note: hi so this has been a wip for like a year lol. this one long predates sungchan’s deneofication (and subsequent re-debut in riize), hockey player sungchan just lives in my brain rent free ok. anyway, i hope you like ➠ series masterlist

“You agreed to go to a frat party?” Chenle’s eyes were bugging out of his head as he sat across a high top in the dining hall from you. “Do you remember what happened last time, Y/N?”

“Hard to forget,” you snorted.

“And yet it seems you did, somehow, lost in dreamboat Jung Sungchan’s eyes.”

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 24

“Now shoo!” Dr. Son waved the small group of you out of his dimly lit office.

It was Phantasmagorical Phriday, a time-honored tradition going back to your freshman year of university. Dr. Son had been intrigued by the four freshmen who were somehow in his third-year class on Gothic Fiction and actually seemed to “get it.” His “Phantasma Phour” as you dubbed yourselves (a nickname that got quickly worn out, persisting only as the title of your groupchat):

Wong Hendery, who ended up in the class accidentally due to an error on his academic advisor’s part (she had gotten him mixed up with a Wong Henry, a junior Literature major who actually needed to take Dr. Son’s class) and he subsequently changed majors at least three times to your knowledge, so you were genuinely surprised he was graduating on time—he finally settled on Communications;

Jung Sungchan, at the time a promising young rookie hockey player who had now blossomed into your school’s reliable team captain—Biology major, being an athlete meant he could pre-register for classes and he picked Dr. Son’s at random to fulfill a gen ed Literature credit;

Zhong Chenle, an honorary member of both Nu Chi Tau, one of the biggest frats on campus, and the hockey team, as somehow 95% of his social circle were Nu Chi brothers and/or hockey players despite Chenle being neither himself, your best friend and also sometimes you swear a demon sent straight from hell to kill you—Literature major, who bullied you into taking the class; and

You, Chenle’s best friend who used to hate anything and everything Gothic fiction that got bullied into taking it anyway and now adored the genre more than any other—Literature major, who took the last spot in the class on registration day.

Dr. Son would invite you all to monthly extracurricular workshops in his office that built up to this: Phantasmagorical Phriday, a writing competition to see which of the four of you could write the best gothic short story. The stories were actually submitted the prior week, but it was the Friday before Halloween that was dubbed the Phriday in question. The four of you were invited to his office that night after classes (and Sungchan’s hockey practice) to review your pieces: how he thought everyone had improved from last year, discuss the writing process, and to finish off the night, Dr. Son would announce his top two stories. Those in the top two had the chance to send him a persuasive letter about why they should win. They had to be sent to him that night because the next morning, your professor would email the top two individually with the results.

Since this was your last Phantasmagorical Phriday, Dr. Son pretended not to see when Hendery brought out four celebratory White Claws for you all. You still had your warm, unopened, orange-flavored seltzer in your hand as the small group of you left the Literature, Writing, and Foreign Languages building together.

“I still can’t believe you couldn’t find anything classier for our last Phantasmagorical Phriday, Hendery.” You shook your head. “Ever heard of champagne? Literally any wine?”

“So you’re not gonna shotgun that, Y/N, is what I’m hearing?” Hendery teased as you all stopped under the light post right outside the building.

“Is that a challenge or what, Wong?” You scoffed, handing it back to him. “But no, I’m good.”

Sungchan thankfully cut in and changed the topic of conversation, “So are you going to start writing your letter of reconsideration, Y/N?”

This year’s top two were you and Sungchan, the member of the Phantasma Phour you spoke to the least. Outside of the monthly “workshops” (which at this point with your differing majors were just get-togethers of questionable academic value), you never saw him. You obviously saw Chenle all the time, and despite the fact that you considered him a bit obnoxious, you were sort of friends with Hendery, joining him for lunch if you happened to see him at the student union or at the coffee shop on campus. Sungchan was perfectly nice and all, you just found that you never really talked to him like the other two.

You looked down at your watch, taking a quick inhale when you saw the time. You’d stayed in Dr. Son’s office a lot later than you’d realized.

“Oh, no,” you casually waved off Sungchan’s question, readjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. “I’ve got something more pressing right now. Anyway, see you guys. It was a good four years, I’m glad we got to do this.”

Lifting your hand in a wave of finality to the three men, you departed.

“She’s really not going to submit a letter?” Sungchan asked, still watching after you as your figure faded away in the distance.

“Nope,” Chenle shook his head, reaching for the spare White Claw in Hendery’s hand. “Y/N never does.”

“You didn’t know that?” Hendery questioned the hockey player, holding the drink away from Chenle.

“Why not?”

“She’s not in it to win really.” Chenle lunged for the can as Hendery jerked it away at the last second. “Just wants to make stuff.”

“So she was lying about doing something?”

Hendery and Chenle were now running circles around Sungchan in their game of keep-away with the seltzer.

“No.”

“What do you—” Sungchan sighed, yanking the drink from Hendery’s grasp and holding it high above his own head, well out of either of their reaches. “Hey!”

Now with their attention, the hockey captain kept his arm straight up as he returned to his question, “What are you talking about, Chenle?”

“Y/N does have something pressing right now. If I tell you where she’s probably going will you give me the White Claw?” Chenle bargained.

“You’d exchange your best friend’s location for an orange White Claw? Not even watermelon?” Hendery asked incredulously.

“It’s Sungchan, someone we’ve known for like four years, not some creep off the street who’s going to wear her skin.”

“No, Chenle, you don’t have to tell me that,” Sungchan shook his head, offering the can out for either one to take.

The Literature major was able to snatch it first, jumping up in celebration, “Suck an egg, Hendery!”

“I wouldn’t—” Sungchan’s words were too late though, as Chenle had already popped the tab, and the overly-shaken seltzer exploded all over all three of them.

“Zhong Chenle, I’m going to strangle you, you little weasel!”

“Ah! Sungchan, save me!”

“I would, except you got fucking orange White Claw in my eyes and I’m fucking blind now! Goddamn!”

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 25

Rolling over in bed the next morning, you let out a big sigh and buried your face in your pillow, fully intent on going back to sleep. Saturday morning. No school, no work. Just you, your bed, and some much-needed sleep.

Then, the obnoxious blaring of your phone came from your nightstand. You groaned, reaching blindly for the object, and barely opening one eye just enough to snooze it. Damn, you really had slept in, to be woken up by your first medication alarm. Well, you weren’t going to die if you took your morning doses fifteen minutes later than normal. You were about to stuff your phone under your pillow when you briefly caught sight of your lockscreen after the alarm disappeared.

Text notification from Jung Sungchan?

Flopping onto your back and bringing your phone with you, you squinted against the harsh light of your screen to make sure you were reading that right. Yep, Sungchan had definitely texted you a few hours ago, separate from the Phantasma Phour chat. At almost 7:00 a.m., too. What the hell?

Curiosity won out over a need to sleep for fourteen more minutes, and you opened the notification.

[jung sungchan: Congrats, Y/N!]

You stared blankly at the text, your groggy mind desperately grasping around for any sort of context as to why Jung Sungchan would be texting you that at 7:00 a.m. on a Saturday. Then it struck you like lightning, and you let out an audible “Oh, duh!” as you remembered where you both were last night. Phantasmagorical Phriday. The writing contest. You and Sungchan were the top two. Dr. Son must have sent the email out already, and apparently you had won.

Normally, you wouldn’t check your school email on the weekend until Sunday night, unless you were waiting to hear back from a specific professor—and the Sunday night check was just to see if any of your Monday classes were cancelled. Lord knows you definitely wouldn’t have checked it at seven in the morning on a Saturday. You let out a snort of disbelief as you reread the timestamp on the text. But still, it was nice of him. A good show of sportsmanship, as one would expect from the hockey captain.

You quickly checked your own student email, and did in fact see an email from Dr. Son at the very top with the subject ‘PHINAL PHANTASMAGORICAL PHRIDAY RESULTS.’

‘Y/N and Sungchan:

Thank you again for your submissions. I enjoyed working with everyone these four years.

The winner this year is Y/N. Good job.

Dr. Son.’

An amused smile crept across your face at your professor’s usual blunt email style. But this was also some of the nicest feedback he’d given your writing, even when you had won Phantasmagorical Phriday in the past, or in classes that you’d taken from him over the years. Something about it truly did feel... final.

And so with an odd bittersweetness, you drafted an equally short and blunt email back to your professor.

‘Dr. Son:

Thank you for taking us on these past four years. I will never forget the experience.

Y/L/N Y/N.’

Then finally, you went back to the original reason that you were even doing this.

[you: thanks, sungchan!]

Then, your alarm went off again, making you jump out of your skin. Well, time for your morning meds.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 27

A tall figure was nearing the corner table you had claimed in one of the campus coffee shops the following Monday afternoon, and you looked up from your laptop screen, a little surprised at who it was. Jung Sungchan was standing at the end of your table, black flannel over a graphic t-shirt and dark wash jeans, one backpack strap slung over his shoulder. He had an iced coffee in one hand.

You paused the movie playing on your laptop, taking out both your headphones as you looked up at him inquisitively, “Uh hi, Sungchan.”

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Are you here to study or something?”

“Mm.” He couldn’t seem to meet your eyes. “Not really. Just grabbing a coffee and saw you. Do you mind if I sit with you for a bit?”

“Oh, sure. I’m waiting out the storm to leave,” you gestured to the near-constant downpour that had started right after you’d arrived over two hours ago. Noticing that some of Sungchan’s hair and shoulders were damp, you added, “The storm you apparently got caught in without an umbrella.”

“Oh, yeah,” he ran a hand through his hair to push some of it away from where it had been falling into his eyes.

“I don’t mind having some company while I wait.”

To your surprise, instead of sitting across from you, Sungchan plopped himself onto the same bench that you were on, one leg slung over either side so he could face you directly.

You picked up the mug in front of you, your second cup of your drink of choice. You’d gotten a refill after it became clear that the rain wasn’t letting up any time soon. Sungchan was already a third of the way done with his iced coffee as you blew over your hot drink before taking a small sip. He glanced up at you, and you felt like you were going to choke on the uncomfortable silence. So you took a gamble. Turning in your seat to face him as well, you hiked a knee up onto the bench, bringing your mug with you.

“Do you want to ask me something, Sungchan?”

The hockey player startled, having to catch himself from nearly choking on his coffee. Seems like you were right. Sungchan finally stopped sucking down his drink, setting it down on the table and wiping his palms on the knees of his jeans. “I heard that you never sent in a letter to Dr. Son. Any year you were a top two.”

“Oh, yeah, nah.”

“Why not?”

“Didn’t seem worth it,” you shrugged.

“What?”

“Every year I participated I wanted my work to stand on its own two legs. After the death of the author, that’s all that’s left, right? The work. It has to speak for itself.”

“Oh,” Sungchan nodded, then squinted his eyes, confusion entirely overtaking his features. “Wait, what?”

“Sorry, I don’t know how much Lit Theory you’ve done. Probably not a lot as a Bio major, huh? Death of the author is both literal and metaphorical. Removing what the author meant to do or say with a text from how you actually interpret the text as the reader. It’s a lot easier when they’re actually dead, but the abstract concept is practiced when they’re alive too. It’s… seeing the text as separate from authorial intent. Mind you, it’s only one tool in a literary critic’s arsenal, but I liked it for our Gothic fiction class. All the authors we read in that class, they’d been gone for a while, we had no way to know what they really meant when they wrote all that stuff. And it didn’t really matter for our purposes. All we did have was what they wrote, and that was enough for me. So the same should be enough for whoever reads the stuff I write. Even if it’s just Dr. Son.”

“Huh.”

“Though I guess I just explained myself a little, oops,” you laughed at yourself, taking another sip from your steaming mug. “I’m getting less and less mysterious by the second, aren't I?”

“Chenle made it sound like you didn’t care about winning,” Sungchan asked, cheek in hand.

You arched an eyebrow at this. “You asked Chenle about me?”

“W-Well you left so fast after we saw Dr. Son, and you two are you know...”

“Oh he’s my best friend,” you clarified for perhaps the ten-thousandth time in your life. “And while others may use any litany of swears for him and Hendery calls him a little weasel, I prefer ‘actual demon sent from Hell to kill me.’”

“What?” Sungchan’s eyes widened.

“He pushes me out of my comfort zone. In a good way, most of the time.”

“Got it. Then what do you do for him? If he’s your yang…”

“I’m entertainment?” You snorted, taking another sip of your drink. After setting it back down, you answered more sincerely, “I’m kidding. Sometimes it feels like that but I did ask him one time a couple years ago, when he was tipsy enough that I believed the words coming out of his mouth but not so drunk that it was unintelligible. ‘A safe place.’ And since then… I can see it in us. That’s my yin to him.”

He smiled softly at you. “That’s... really nice.”

“Sorry, what were you asking me before that?”

“Oh, uh— Chenle said you really didn’t care about winning Dr. Son’s contest, you just wanted to make stuff? That’s why you didn’t submit a letter.”

“Generally, sure. Winning would’ve been great, but I didn’t write what I thought Dr. Son wanted. I took all of his feedback with a grain of salt. Took stuff that I liked from him, took stuff I liked from other profs I had. Mixed and matched to make something that was mine.” You pressed your lips together, then leaned forward like you were about to tell him a secret, “I didn’t live for Phantasmagorical Phriday, Sungchan. You do know that, right?”

“Wow,” he blinked, seeming a bit disoriented. “I’ve never really thought about… you like that.”

“Well to be fair to you, you only ever knew me there and in Dr. Son’s class. Makes it hard not to think of me only through that lens. All you know about me is that I presumably like Gothic fiction and I’m a Lit major, right?”

“Right.”

“So what do you think I was doing here before you showed up?”

“…Reading Edgar Allan Poe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, turning your laptop screen to show the paused movie to him, “I was watching Pacific Rim.”

His jaw literally dropped, and you felt the need to save him at least a little. Grabbing a book from your bag, you held it up, “I did come here initially to finish reading this new mystery novel I just got, but then the storm came and I had nothing else to do after I was done with the book.”

“But still… you’re so…”

“I have interests outside the one class we took together?”

“Smart,” he finished, an absolutely adorable expression of wonder across his face.

You weren’t expecting that, surprised giggles bubbling up out of you as you felt yourself growing warm under his awestruck gaze.

“Anyway, your turn,” you tapped his knee with your book before putting it back in your bag.

“For what?”

“To expand my horizons of you. All I know about you is that you’re the hockey captain, and a Bio major who took a gothic fiction class one time like three years ago. Show me you’re a multifaceted individual, too.”

“Uhm, that’s about it.”

“Oh come on, Sungchan.”

“No really, if I’m not on the ice, I’m in class; if I’m not in class, I’m with my team; and if I’m not with my team, I’m studying.”

“You’re here, right now,” you pointed out. “Last I checked I’m not on your hockey team, and we’re not studying. You have to do one thing that’s not for school or hockey. My thing was just watching Pacific Rim this one time, remember?”

“Alright…” he paused to think, fingers tapping along his thighs. “I used to play the piano.”

“Past tense, but I’ll accept it. When did you stop?”

“High school? Around when piano lessons and hockey practice started conflicting.”

“And you chose hockey?” You asked, hoping it didn’t sound judgmental. You really were just curious, trying to understand him.

“Actually, the choice was made for me.” He held his right hand out in front of you, and it was then that you saw his pinky finger was unnaturally crooked as he pointed to the digit. “I broke it in a game without even realizing it. Bruises and stiffness sometimes are normal so me and my parents didn’t know anything was up until weeks later when I was fucking up all the notes at my piano lessons because it still hurt. By the time I finally saw a doctor and got a splint on it, it set up wrong. All dexterity for piano out the window. Hockey on the other hand… guys have done a lot more with a lot less.”

You couldn’t help but curiously run a gentle fingertip over the crook in his pinky. “Does it hurt at all? Now?”

“Not really.” He went to bend and flex the fingers of his right hand, and you saw how the fifth finger didn’t curl up as much as the others. “It’s just a lot stiffer. Doesn’t bother me all that much.”

He brought his left hand up and wiggled the fingers on that hand. “Besides, I’m a lefty anyway.”

“So—apologies if this sounds like a stupid question to you, I don’t know anything about hockey—are there like, different hockey sticks for left-handed and right-handed players?”

Sungchan immediately broke into snickers, and you set down your mug to cross your arms over your chest indignantly.

“Hey, I didn’t laugh at you for not knowing what death of the author was—”

“I wasn’t making fun of you, I’m sorry,” he covered his mouth. “That was just… too cute. Uhm yes, there are lefty and righty sticks.”

You had to bite down your bottom lip to not smile at him calling you cute, and instead keep up your ruse of being offended. “I feel patronized.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” There was still a hint of a giggle in his tone, and you felt your self-righteous façade slip away as he continued, “You should come to a game, then, if you really want to broaden your horizons. The season just started. First home game is this Thursday, actually. 7:00 p.m. and students get free admission with your student ID.”

“Thursday?”

“Fridays are for basketball, Saturdays are for football.”

“Oh. Right.”

“You don’t go to those games either, do you?”

“Oh no, did I make it obvious?” You asked sarcastically.

“A bit,” Sungchan jested back.

Outside the window visible past Sungchan, the rain had let up a few minutes ago, and you briefly glanced over at your laptop for the time. Shit, your next alarm was going to be going off soon. If you left now, you should be home at roughly the right time for your next dose.

Clicking your tongue, you started packing up your things, “Well, looks like the rain’s finally let up enough to allow me safe passage. That’s my cue.”

“Oh.” The hockey player with you looked over his shoulder at the newly sunny day outside before turning back to watch you put your things away.

“Are you heading out too?” You nodded to his empty cup.

“I’ve uh, got some homework to do.”

“Guess this is where we part ways then.”

“Um, you didn’t say if you were going. To the game.”

You tucked your chin to your chest to hide your smitten smile as you put your laptop in your bag. Typically just asking for the details would’ve been taken for a yes, but Sungchan wanted extra confirmation. This boy wasn’t good for your heart, truly.

Turning back to him, you gave him a firm and nearly business-like nod. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

A bright grin lit up his features. “Okay! Great! Uhm, feel free to bring some friends, I know just sitting in the stands by yourself might be lonely.”

“I’ll see if I can drag somebody else out. It’ll be a tall order, though. Literature majors, you know, we prefer our Shakesperean poetry readings.”

“Oh, well—”

“I’m kidding,” you laughed and stood then, slinging your tote onto your shoulder. “Honestly, have you seen Chenle at a rager? Boy can drink twice his body weight I swear. He shouldn’t, but he can.”

Before you could reach for your cup and saucer to buss your place, the hockey captain spoke up, “I’ll take care of your mug, don’t worry.”

“Oh, thanks, Sungchan! I’ll see you Thursday then.”

“Bye…” Sungchan trailed off, watching the door long after it had closed behind you.

He didn’t actually have any homework to do, and scrolled on his phone for a few minutes to make sure you were out of the area before leaving himself. He grabbed his long-empty plastic cup and your mug. His went in the trash, and as he went to put yours up with the other dishes and trays, his eyes were caught by the iridescent glitters left behind on the rim by your lip gloss.

[you: hey what are you doing thursday at 7:00?]

[chenle: depends on what weird poetry reading you’re trying to drag me to]

[you: not this time. Sungchan’s hockey game?]

[chenle: you want to go to a sporting event?? why????]

[you: i told him i’d go please don’t make me go by myself]

[chenle: did you offer to go or did he ask you to come?]

[you: he asked me to? i guess?]

[chenle: haha yeah fuck no i’m not going with you]

[you: why not????????]

[chenle: a guy invited you to one of his games? yeah no way am i coming with you]

[you: what difference does that make? you’re seriously going to make me go to a hockey game by myself?]

[chenle: i don’t know how to tell you this gently so: he wants to fuck you]

[you: bro???]

[chenle: especially hockey? caveman brain is activated, he wants to show off how big and strong he is for you over the other males]

[you: damn can’t believe i just blinked and woke up in 200 BC]

[chenle: i’m warning you, only go if you’re ready for the consequences. i.e., that]

[you: so you’re not coming with me]

[chenle: no <3]

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 30

Your chronically early self had gotten there as soon as the doors opened to spectators in order to scope out the perfect spot for yourself. Somewhere not too close to any speakers, where you could still see what was going on, hopefully somewhere Sungchan could maybe see you, but you could make a quick escape if need be. A lot of parameters, hence the need to be early. That meant that you got to watch the visiting team warm up first, and now your school’s team was warming up before the game. Finally the stands started filling up, and you had to do a double-take at the newest figure entering.

“Zhong Chenle, you lying little bitch!” You cursed out your best friend who was approaching you.

He immediately went to defend himself as he plopped down beside you, “Look, I told you I wasn’t going with you, not that I wasn’t going at all. Come on, Lit major.”

He finished off with a solid knock on your head, which didn’t hurt all that much through the beanie you were wearing, but you still slapped his arm away with a glare.

“Are you sure you want to live until graduation day? I can’t tell sometimes.”

“Half the team are Nu Chi guys,” Chenle explained his being there, then waved at one of the players skating by, 23, who gave a salute back. “Jeno.”

“Oh.” You belatedly waved too, but your friend had already turned back to warming up.

Chenle then gave you the run-down on all your friends and acquaintances’ numbers as he spotted them.

“Goalie. Sicheng, 7.” He just blocked a shot from a familiar number, 23. “Already told you, 23 is Jeno. Right wing.”

“Does he always suck?”

“Here’s Ten, number 10. Right defense. He’s never told me which came first, his nickname or his jersey number.”

Sicheng blocked Ten’s shot.

“2 is Mark, center.” His went in.

“66, Donghyuck, center alternate.” His also went in.

“24, that’s Yangyang, left wing—and a miss!”

“This doesn’t bode well that so many of our players apparently kind of suck.” You muttered to yourself, well aware that Chenle was no longer listening to you.

Finally, the tallest of the team was skating up to take a shot. “And there’s your guy, Y/N. Number 27, Jung Sungchan, left defense, captain, your dreamboat—”

“If you don’t shut up—”

“Oh! All net!”

“Isn’t that a basketball—”

“Hey, you got your earplugs, right?”

“Yep, same ones for concerts,” you confirmed, reaching into your purse for them. You hadn’t been able to take your full tote bag into the school sporting event, so you had to condense the essentials into your smaller purse.

“Good, because uh, it’ll get loud.”

“I figured.”

“Yeah, remember how half the team are Nu Chi guys?”

Your eyes widened in realization, “Oh god.”

“Here they come!”

Whipping around to face the same direction he was looking, you saw a horde of about ten to fifteen guys storming the rink, practically shaking the audience section. They were all donned in blue and orange, your university’s colors, various hockey or Nu Chi merch and paraphernalia, and you would’ve absolutely bet money that at least three of them had Nu, Chi, and Tau symbols painted across each of their chests under their shirts. Chenle leapt up to greet them all, the volume of the area immediately rising tenfold at least.

You recognized most of the Nu Chi frat brothers, they were mutual friends or acquaintances of yours through Chenle over the years, and there were even some familiar graduated faces. Lee Taeyong was the first to pick up on your presence, squeezing past Jisung—a new pledge that had glommed onto Chenle in particular—to plop down behind your seat.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” Taeyong asked you with a tilted head. “Not exactly a good place for you, is it?”

Taeyong was frat president for your first two years of college and his last two. You had an absolute disaster at a Nu Chi party in your freshman year that he was witness to. Ever since then, when you would see him in passing at other lowkey (or as lowkey as frat functions could get) Nu Chi events that Chenle took you to during those two years, you always got the distinct impression that he was keeping an eye on you during them.

“Could be asking you the same thing, Taeyong,” you countered, fully turning around in your seat to chat with the man. “Didn’t you graduate two years ago? You don’t have anything better to do on a Thursday night? Like your taxes or something?”

“Us old-timers who peaked in college like to come back and re-live our glory days vicariously for the first home game,” he entertained your jibe, making you giggle. “And somebody’s got to be these kids’ DD. They always go at it too hard after the first game. Win or lose.”

Johnny, another graduated Nu Chi brother, spoke up then, eyes laser-focused on you, “So Chenle’s finally dragged you out to a game, Y/N?”

You immediately looked at your friend with wide eyes, knowing what the answer was, and exactly what reaction said answer would garner. Chenle, on the other hand, seemed all too thrilled to join in, turning to face you with his hands on his hips and a knowing smirk on his face.

“Oh no, I didn’t bring Y/N. She actually didn’t know I was coming at all. I found her here all on her own,” he announced to all the guys, who were hanging on to every word he said. If literally anything else were happening, you might’ve laughed at how they were all wrapped around his finger.

“No offense, but you don’t really seem like you’re interested in hockey,” Jungwoo, a junior who you’d shared a couple literature classes with, said curiously.

You sighed, giving Chenle a frank look before admitting, “Jung Sungchan invited me.”

They exploded with various hoots, hollers, whoops, and whistles.

With a shake of your head, you turned back around to look back at the players on the ice, knowing full well that there was nothing you could do alleviate—or even really participate in—the absolute chaos that was happening behind you.

Eventually, the game started. Taeyong, who had moved to sit on your other side from Chenle, quietly explained the basics of what was going on to you: positions, plays, scoring, why the referee made certain calls. Chenle was caught between cheering along with the other Nu Chi guys and rattling off hyper-specific stats on individual players to you, so you were truly grateful to have Taeyong giving you your “hockey for dummies” tips and tidbits throughout.

You kept your eyes on number 27, as Chenle had pointed him out to you earlier. The gear made it somewhat difficult for you to really recognize any distinguishing features about Sungchan himself except maybe his height, made even greater by the skates he was wearing. But as much as the intellectual side of you might’ve hated to admit it, there was definitely some part of you that very much enjoyed watching him play; that got some kind of thrill every time somebody tried to check him and he didn’t budge—or when he checked somebody and they most definitely did budge.

Before you knew it, all three periods were over, and you were jumping to your feet along with the others, cheering wildly. Your school won by a landslide.

“Oh, they’re going to get plastered,” Taeyong murmured from beside you fondly.

All of you had been in the cheering section milled around in the ice rink lobby waiting for the team to get out of the locker room.

“That was fun,” you declared to Chenle as the two of you stood off to the side from the larger group of loud Nu Chi brothers.

“Yeah, you didn’t seem like you were listening to a word I said.”

“Because you were telling me sports stats, Chenle, I’m surprised my brain didn’t start bleeding out of my ears.”

“Well I’m surprised your nose wasn’t bleeding watching your dreamboat Jung Sungchan beat up all those other guys,” Chenle teased. “200 BC called, they want their cavewoman back—”

You lunged at him, managing to get an arm around his throat in the beginnings of a questionably friendly chokehold, “I’m going to kill you, you little—”

“No murder in the rink!” Came the chastising voice of Johnny Suh from afar, and you reluctantly let him go.

The players started streaming out of the locker room soon after, and you nervously scanned the crowd for Sungchan. Chenle was easily dragged into the chaos of everyone celebrating, leaving you standing off to the side waiting.

Finally, you spotted him. Sungchan was wearing a simple pair of black sweatpants and black hoodie with your school’s name embroidered across the front, his hair a bit mussed up. He was deep in conversation with Sicheng, brow furrowed. The goalie’s features were similarly serious as they gestured to each other. You stayed put, not wanting to interrupt. Taeyong had mentioned that Sicheng was sort of like a co-captain, you guessed they might be doing something important.

Then you’d suddenly made eye contact with Sicheng, who was facing you. He gave you a casual head nod, and said something to Sungchan you couldn’t quite make out. The captain whipped around, a bright smile coming to his face as soon as his eyes landed on you. You lifted your hand to give him a small wave and smile back.

Sungchan quickly ended his conversation with Sicheng, making his way over to where you were standing by a wall.

“Hey, Y/N,” he was still smiling down at you, his eyes practically glittering even in the harsh fluorescents of the lobby. “So you really made it out.”

“I said I would.” You fidgeted with the straps of your bag.

“And…?”

You tilted your head, “And?”

“What did you think? You know, are your horizons super broad now or something?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. His phrasing was funny, but also remembering how he played and was now giving you his undivided attention admittedly made your chest flutter.

“It was good, yeah. I had fun,” you confirmed. “You uhm, you played really good. I think.”

“Thanks,” Sungchan scratched at the back of his neck, and you swore the tips of his ears were pink, but that could’ve just been the cold. “Did you drive yourself?”

“Walked, my apartment is close.”

“Uh, so, we all go out to a bar after games usually. It’s kind of a sleazy dive bar, and I know it’s a Thursday, but I’d really like for you to come. I’ll buy you a dr—”

“I’m really sorry, Sungchan, but I can’t. I’d love to, but…” You trailed off, wracking your brain for some concise way to explain why he couldn’t buy you a drink.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” Sungchan assured you, and you winced at the way the hopeful smile fell from his face.

An awkward silence descended over the two of you. You were chewing on your bottom lip, desperately trying to think of something to say to gloss over your rejecting his offer. You didn’t want to end the conversation on such a sour note, nor did you want to leave him just yet either. Stealing a glance at the clock above you on the wall, however, you knew that you’d need to be going soon anyway.

The hockey player was the one who ended up breaking the silence, “Can I walk you home? It’s late for you to be out by yourself.”

A relieved smile overtook your features, and you hoped he could see the sincerity in it, “Sure, thank you. Let me let Chenle know he’s relieved of his man-shaped friend duties for the night, and we can go.”

You got on your tiptoes to look around for your friend, finally spotting him in a headlock by Jeno, with Yangyang giving him a noogie. They all seemed to be laughing, so it didn’t look too much like bullying that you felt the need to intervene.

“You know, I’ll just text him, actually,” you chuckled, bringing out your phone to do just that.

“Man-shaped friend duties?” Sungchan questioned as the automatic doors parted for the two of you.

“His words, not mine,” you snorted. “But you know, making sure a woman doesn’t walk places by herself at night, that kind of stuff. Having a man just with her makes her safer, as fucked up as that is. Chenle corrected it to be man-shaped since he’s not the manly protective type.”

“I see.”

“But it looks like you’re on man-shaped friend duties for tonight, Sungchan.”

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you wanted to stuff them back in. Friend. God, that was absolutely not what was happening here and you knew it. Chenle’s previous texts flashed across your mind. You obviously knew why Sungchan would’ve wanted to invite you to his game, and you said yes purposefully. Friend. Foot, meet mouth.

Sungchan blinked down at you, but seemed to take it in stride, “Of course, Y/N. Anytime you need a man-shaped person at your side, just call me up. I’ll bring my hockey stick.”

He patted his gear bag that was slung over his shoulder, making you giggle.

“I’ll keep you on speed dial, then.”

It was a short walk to your apartment, and you and Sungchan mostly talked about the game. You asked him a couple questions that Taeyong hadn’t covered during it— which Chenle might’ve, except you had tuned him out. And as you came to a stop at your front door, you didn’t yet fish your keys from your bag.

“How often do you have away games?” You asked.

“They’re usually about half,” Sungchan shrugged. “It’s a bit annoying missing classes, and the bus is kind of rank on the trip back.”

“Ew…” You wrinkled your nose.

“But they’re always a lot of fun.”

“So, uhm, when’s your next home game?”

His face brightened as he seemed to realize what exactly you were asking, “Next week. Same time.”

“Okay, cool.” You bit your lip.

“Cool,” he echoed.

You looked up at Sungchan, catching his eyes for a heart stopping moment. Both of you were standing on your welcome mat, he was close enough that you could catch a faint whiff of the detergent from his clothes—a college athlete with freshly washed clothes? You might already be in love—and watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed. You had the urge to grab him by the front of his hoodie and yank him—

A garish, blaring ringing going off interrupted your split-second pros and cons weighing that had been going on. Sungchan startled at the noise, reminding you very much of a baby moose in the moment. You groaned as you reached into your bag for your phone.

“Oh my god, stop it,” you hissed under your breath as you snoozed the alarm that was going off on there. Once it was quiet, you looked back up at the man with you sheepishly, “Sorry about that.”

He joked, “Curfew?”

You laughed lightly, “No, just a reminder for something I have to do after I get home. It’s fine.”

“Well, before you go do that, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Nu Chi and the team are hosting a joint Halloween party this year, and I’d really like it if I could see you there.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow, people will probably start showing up after like ten, eleven. It’s at the Nu Chi house, theirs is bigger than ours.”

“Fascinating phrasing,” you snickered.

“I know this is last minute, so I get if you have other plans or something.”

“I… can probably swing by for a bit, yeah,” you nodded.

“Great!” Sungchan beamed. “Oh, it is a costume party, by the way.”

“Costume?” You arched a brow. “What’ll you being going as? And please don’t say hockey player.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “Definitely not… that would be lame…”

“You were planning on going as a hockey player, weren’t you?”

“Me and Mark have been putting all our spare time into planning this thing, I haven’t had any time to think about a costume.”

“Well you’ve given me 24-hour notice for a costume, so this is your 24-hour notice for one too. When I find you at the Nu Chi house tomorrow, I do not want to see a hockey jersey, Jung Sungchan. Any sports player is off-limits, understand?” You poked his chest with finality.

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded in assent.

Just then, your alarm went off again, and this time you jumped out of your skin. Apparently, another 5 minutes had elapsed. With a sigh, you reached into your bag for your keys.

“I should let you go do that thing,” Sungchan chuckled. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Sungchan,” you unlocked your front door. “See you tomorrow.”

Sitting at your kitchen table a couple minutes later, you were looking down at the vitals displayed on the screen of your blood pressure cuff.

“Jung Sungchan…” you muttered to yourself as you added the reading to your digital record, noting how the line graph jumped up with the new data.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 31

“You agreed to go to a frat party?” Chenle’s eyes were bugging out of his head as he sat across a high top in the dining hall from you. You two were grabbing a quick lunch between classes, and doing an obligatory catch-up on how your short but sweet walk with Sungchan went last night. “Do you remember what happened last time, Y/N?”

“Hard to forget,” you snorted.

“And yet it seems you did, somehow, lost in dreamboat Jung Sungchan’s eyes.”

You threw a fry from his plate at him, “It wasn’t like that!”

He ducked, letting it sail by his head and hit the wall behind him.

“Then what was it like?”

“It was more like a big puppy that I couldn’t say no to and—”

You were cut off by loud gagging noises from your friend, and went to kick him under the table, but missed and hit his chair leg instead. He still got the message, quieting down to let you continue.

“I told him I’d be able to just pop in for a bit. I’ll be in and out before it’ll get too bad.”

“Famous last words...”

“Hold on, LeLe,” you grabbed your friend’s arm to stop him on the sidewalk in front of the Nu Chi Tau frat house.

Taking another look into your tote bag, you made sure once again that you had everything you could possibly need tonight. Medications, snacks, water bottle, ear plugs, the usual. After closing the snaps on the bag, you nervously fidgeted with the hem of your costume. Generic witch, it was the last thing the costume store had in your size that wasn’t garishly scary. You understood well and good how college Halloween parties worked: you had to look hot, not terrifying. Not to mention that those horror show costumes were also much pricier than your “Sexy Witch” one.

“You look cute, Y/N,” Chenle reassured you, readjusting your witch hat for you. “Jung Sungchan won’t know what hit him.”

Chenle, on the other hand, was an almost scarily realistic zombie. If you hadn’t spent an ungodly amount of time hanging out on his bathroom counter this afternoon watching him apply the SFX makeup himself, you would’ve thought he had hired a professional makeup artist to do it. He’d always gone ham on Halloween since you two were kids, ever since he figured out how to make a Transformers costume out of cardboard boxes in primary school. You usually participated in partner costumes with him, but you really didn’t want him to make you a gross-looking zombie tonight.

“Thanks.” You gave him as confident a smile as you could muster.

Resecuring your grip on your go bag, you started up the walkway to the house with your friend.

You had been able to faintly hear the thumping bass of the music from outside, but once inside, you were almost immediately hit by a wall of music. Just inside the front door you were faced with a mass of people in bright costumes, flashing lights, corny Halloween decorations of cobwebs, spiders, ghosts, and pumpkins all over the walls.

Chenle looked over at you expectantly, “Y/N?”

“I couldn’t find my concert earplugs, only my noise canceling. I won’t be able to hear anybody unless they’re shouting at me if I put those in,” you replied, having to raise your voice to make sure he heard you. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” He sighed and grabbed your elbow. “Come on, let’s find a quieter spot in the house then.”

You gave him a thumbs up and bright grin, already feeling your ears acclimate to the loudness. You could totally do this. It was one night, and you were just going to see Sungchan for a bit then go. Pop in then back out, just like you said.

You didn’t have to wait long to spot Sungchan. Chenle had barely tugged you into the next room over from the small foyer when a familiar head was visible over the crowd, his bright smile focused on you.

“Hey, Y/N!” Sungchan grinned down at you. He was dressed in a suit and tie, what you were guessing was probably his only set, and his hair was parted to one side, styled off of his face. The tie had already been loosened, and the tuck of his dress shirt wasn’t so crisp.

“Hi, Sungchan,” you smiled up at him, amazed that you could hear anything over both the music and now your heart beating so loudly in your ears.

“So you did find a costume.”

“Oh, yeah,” you messed with the hem of your skirt. “Last one at the shop.”

“You look great.” He was still beaming down at you, and you could feel your skin growing warmer. “I’m really glad you could make it.”

“Thanks. Uhm, so what are you? Funeral director?”

“What? No, I’m—” His sentence stopped in its tracks as he looked down at the front of his suit jacket. He started patting his empty breast pocket, then other jacket pockets, then pants pockets, then looked around on the floor. “Fuck.”

“What?” You looked around under your feet, but weren’t able to see anything other than the usual party debris. “Did you lose something?”

Sungchan looked back up at you, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I was about to say that I’m Mulder from the X-Files. But I’ve apparently lost my fake FBI badge. So it looks like I’m a funeral director now.”

You giggled. “Maybe you can be Mulder when he retires and buys a funeral home.”

“Yeah, the perfect costume. Won’t take too long to explain to anybody, they’ll get it immediately,” he laughed.

“Hey, I’m just glad you didn’t wear a jersey.”

“I’m nothing if not a man of my word.”

“Oh, have you seen Chenle’s makeup by the—” But when you turned around to gesture to your friend, you found that he had disappeared, leaving you and the hockey captain all alone.

“Chenle?” Sungchan asked with a tilted head. “I didn’t even realize he was here yet.”

You shook your head fondly at your friend’s antics. Well, you’d have to thank him later.

“He must have gone to get a drink or something. Either way, it seems I’ve been abandoned.”

“Well, you can come hang out with me and some of the guys, if you want?” He offered.

“Yeah, I’d really like that,” you nodded, readjusting your bag to make sure it was pulled in tight to your body.

Sungchan led you through the frat house with a hand on the small of your back, and you snuck a glance up at him when he went to greet someone who had called his name as you passed by. He kept you tucked into his side as he slowed to give the guy a friendly slap on the shoulder. As soon as Sungchan had stopped to say hello, two more people appeared seemingly from nowhere, eagerly greeting him as well. You faintly recognized one, Jisung, a new Nu Chi pledge. He’d been at the hockey game you went to, and always found Chenle at Nu Chi events that you tagged along to. You looked up at Sungchan’s animated, handsome face again as he continued talking.

“This is Y/N.” Sungchan’s voice suddenly pulled you into the conversation. You snapped your focus down from his face to the other three that were in front of you, and realized that they all definitely knew that you’d been staring.

“Oh, hi.” You gave the three boys a nervous smile.

“Y/N, this is Jisung, Shotaro, and Renjun. Jisung and Shotaro are Nu Chi pledges, Renjun’s a sophomore brother, and he’s—you’re a Literature major, right, Renjun?”

“Yes.” One of them nodded.

“Renjun’s a Literature major too, Y/N,” Sungchan finished the introduction.

“Cool, cool,” you nodded. It had been Shotaro that called Sungchan over in the first place, you were pretty sure.

“Anyway, thanks for the offer, guys, but I already promised Hyuck I would, so we’ve got to go.”

Sungchan ushered you away to the tune of a chorus of disappointed groans from the three boys, and you wracked your brain to see if you could recall hearing any sort of proposition from them. But nope, between the loud music and your prior lack of attention to the conversation, you had nothing.

“What did they want?” You gave up and finally asked Sungchan.

“Beer pong. Hope you don’t mind that I declined. I’ve already had a couple and am not looking to get wasted quite yet.”

“Oh, no, not at all,” you shook your head. Thank god you didn’t have to deal with that yet. “Not really my thing anyway. Terrible hand-eye coordination.”

Sungchan seemed about to say something when someone walked by you with an exceptionally pungent cologne. The whiff shot directly to your head like a bullet, the sharp pain making you wince and hiss. It took everything in you not to cover your nose like Edward Cullen and instead shift to breathing through your mouth for a few moments.

“Y/N? You okay?” Sungchan’s voice was clearly concerned.

The sharp pain was gone just a couple moments after it had registered, and you opened your eyes up again, giving him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry, don’t know what that was.”

“Okay, good.” He squeezed your shoulder before dropping his hand back down to your back and continuing your trek through the Nu Chi house.

You and Sungchan finally made it to a room adjacent to the main living room, where there were a couple of beat-up old couches and lots of Nu Chi Tau paraphernalia. The bass of the music playing in the next room over would occasionally make the picture frames and plaques on the walls rattle, and you could hear every word of the songs crystal clear, even though the room that you were in was packed to the brim with partygoers as well. Sungchan stopped you at a group of people gathered around one of the couches, tapping the shoulders of two of them who had their backs to you. Donghyuck and Hendery turned around, immediately parting to make room for the both of you in the group upon seeing you.

Almost everyone in the group was familiar to you either as friends or acquaintances. Your social circle was big thanks to Chenle, who was friends with practically the entire hockey team and Nu Chi house, despite being a member of neither. But now you didn’t have your best friend at your side, just Sungchan and your tote bag, both of which you were keeping close to you.

“Oh shit, Y/N!” Hendery grinned, pulling you into a one-armed hug of greeting. “Damn, it really is you!”

“Yeah, I’m a witch, not a ghost, Hendery,” you retorted jokingly. He was dressed as Prince Eric, if you weren’t mistaken.

“Well, when Sungchan said you were coming, some of us were a bit... skeptical.”

Someone dressed as Venom cut in from Hendery’s other side sharply, “No, I believe you said ‘never in a million fucking years, loverboy.’”

The rest of the group erupted in tipsy snickers and ‘ooh’s, and you felt Sungchan jostle a little as someone had presumably given him a teasing shove.

“Alright, guys. You can cut it out now,” Sungchan spoke over them authoritatively. He then looked down to you, features softening. “Sorry. Anyway, this is Donghyuck, he’s on the team and in Nu Chi—”

He pointed to the boy right next to him, wearing a very classic vampire costume splattered with a little bit of fake blood or fruit punch (you couldn’t tell in the poor lighting), and you wondered if he had also gone to a Halloween store last-minute like you. You knew him both from the game, and from a couple times you’d seen him with Chenle outside of frat or hockey events.

“Mark, frat president and he’s on the hockey team—” He was next to Donghyuck, dressed as Spiderman. You were already familiar with Mark, both from the game, and a group project in a class last year. You wondered if Mark remembered that.

“Ten, hockey and Nu Chi—” Ten was reclined on the couch, a top hat that had presumably been on his head earlier now resting on his propped up knee. Between that and his eyepatch, he clearly was dressed as some character that you couldn’t identify in the moment. You knew Ten outside of hockey, the frat, or even Chenle. He was a Lit major, so you had shared classes and study groups over the years. He raised a friendly hand in greeting.

“Sicheng, my co-captain and he’s in Nu Chi, too—” He was on the couch with Ten, sequestered to one corner as his teammate was taking up most of the space with his legs. Sicheng was dressed up as an angel, fake wings, little halo, and all. And you knew Sicheng through Ten, they’d been roommates since freshman year and could often be found together around campus. He gave you a nod of familiarity.

“Dejun, Nu Chi—” Sungchan had finally reached the man who was dressed as Venom.

“And you of course, unfortunately, know Hendery, Nu Chi.”

“Oh, boo, Sungchan,” Hendery stuck his tongue out at the captain.

You smiled and nodded a little bit at everyone else, but you were finding it hard to concentrate with the music in the background. Did it really need to be that loud?

“Y/N?” The sound of your name snapped your focus up, and you looked around for the source.

A few of the guys had gone back to their own conversations. Sungchan was looking down at you, head tilted inquisitively. Presumably he had been to the one to say your name.

“Oh, sorry,” you tried to give a nonchalant chuckle, but it was getting harder and harder to even articulate yourself with all the stimulation. “The music...”

“Oh!” Sungchan perked up at this. “Do you want to go dance?”

He was offering a hand out to you, and you stared down at it, mouth opening and closing as your brain felt like it was moving through sludge. You quite literally could not process what that string of words actually meant for a good second, and then it took even longer for you to even tie together the right way for you to respond. Cognitive fatigue. Oh this was not good. You squeezed your eyes shut, then open.

You again gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I’m- I’m kind of light-headed right now. Could you get me something to drink?”

His features immediately turned concerned. “Of course. Do you need to sit down or a ride h—”

“Can you just get me a drink?” Your brain was stuck in a perpetual loop now that it had locked onto one task. It took all of your energy just to regulate your tone enough to keep your voice (hopefully) as sweet as possible, despite the fact that you had cut him off.

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” He squeezed your upper arm reassuringly before taking off.

Your eyes were fixated on the spot where he had just been, your vision seeming to continuously zoom in and past your head. Squeezing your eyes shut once more, you took a deep breath through your mouth to try to recenter yourself. But it didn’t help any. Your head felt like a balloon that someone was overinflating, and you knew exactly what was coming next. You swallowed thickly, taking a second to look through the crowd. Nope, you couldn’t wait for Sungchan. Not like you could even verbalize much of anything right now. You had to go take your medication.

So you hurried into the crowd, clutching your tote bag to your chest like your life depended on it—which it really did. Mumbling ‘excuse me’s to everyone you shouldered, bumped into, or stepped on the toes of, you finally made it to a door that you were pretty sure was a bathroom. You tried the handle first, and when it gave in, you still knocked as you opened it, just in case. It was miraculously empty. Maybe there really was a God. Then, the balloon started to deflate, the pressure in your head inverted, becoming a harsh, squeezing pain instead. Nope, nope, definitely not a God. Or at least not a benevolent one.

You locked the door behind you with clumsy fingers and shuffled over to the sink. The countertop was in good enough condition for you to toss your bag up there and start rooting around through it. Bottle after bottle after bottle, then you finally secured the right two. You shook out a pill from one, then a pill from the other. The lights above the mirror were becoming more insufferable by the second. You cracked open the fresh bottle of water you had stored in your bag too, and knocked both pills back in one big gulp.

Tossing the water back into your bag, you could fucking finally flip the switch and turn the lights in the bathroom off. After feeling your way along the wall, you eventually found the bathtub, and sat yourself down. The music was somewhat muffled in here, and you figured this was going to be the darkest room in the whole Nu Chi house. Right now, your plan was to wait in here for your medication to kick in and hopefully stop this migraine before it really got going. Then you could make your great escape, and send Sungchan some bullshit apology text later. After tossing your witch hat to the ground vaguely beside your bag, you gently rested your head against the cool tile of the shower with a sigh. Chenle was right, you shouldn’t have come. Cynically, you thought that you should have timed it. See how long you lasted before you got a migraine. You’d be surprised if that was even 15 minutes.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Sungchan returned to the group with your requested drink in hand and another for himself, frowning when he immediately noticed your absence. “Hey, where’d Y/N go?”

“Oh, shit, uh…” Mark looked around with a baffled look on his face. “No clue dude, she was just here a second ago.”

“I’m going to go find her. Here.” He shoved both drinks into Hendery’s hands.

“Sungchan, come on, take a hint, man,” Donghyuck sighed, patting the taller boy’s shoulder sympathetically.

“What?”

“She asked you to get her something to drink and then slipped away when nobody was looking.”

“Y/N’s not like that.”

“And denial’s a river in Egypt.”

“No, she hasn’t been feeling well all night. I think. I’m going to go look for her.”

“So you’re admitting that you make her physically ill.”

“Dude, you’re just asking to get your shit rocked, you know that, right?” Ten warned him.

“Hey, I’m standing up for women—”

Mark cut him off, “Hyuck, you’re on your own if Sungchan decides to fuck your shit up. I don’t care if you’re my little, I’m not—”

“Oh, wahhh, my big strong big won’t protect me.”

“Christ, I swear he’s only had like four shots and a couple…”

His friends’ voices quickly faded into the din of the party as Sungchan pushed through the crowd. He couldn’t spot you, but found maybe the next best thing.

“Hey, Chenle.” He grabbed him by the elbow, turning him away from the arm wrestling competition between Jeno and Yangyang that he was spectating. Or, he at least hoped this was Chenle, it was a bit hard to tell with the zombie makeup.

“Hey, Romeo!” Chenle greeted him jovially, punching him in the shoulder over-zealously. Okay, definitely him.

“Have you seen Y/N? In the past like, five minutes or so?”

“You lost her?” The zombie asked angrily, cheerful mood immediately soured.

“Uh, yes? Sorry?”

“No, I’m not pissed at you,” he shook his head at Sungchan’s apology. “You go check the bathrooms, I’ll look outside. Don’t bother calling her, she’s not going to pick up.”

“What’s—”

But Chenle was already gone.

You weren’t sure how long you had been sitting in there for, but you could feel some of the overstimulation from the party beginning to slide off of you. Which could be either a good or bad thing. Cognitive fatigue was usually a prodrome and postdrome for you. Regaining some clarity could either mean that your medication was working and the migraine was going away, or you were about to enter the proper migraine phase. The fact that the pain hadn’t gone away was worrying. But at least it was dark, and relatively quiet. Oh, quiet... you could put in your earplugs now too.

Just as you had gone to grab for your bag, there was a knock at the bathroom door. You froze. Shit.

“Occupied!” You yelled out hesitantly to them, wincing at the loudness of your own voice. Okay, ow.

The person knocked again, harder.

“Seriously! Busy in here! Puking my brains out!” You yelled even louder, hoping they got the fucking idea this time. There was no way you wanted to have to actually get up and deal with a drunk partygoer that needed to piss and/or puke.

“Y/N? That you?” A familiar voice came through the door. “It’s Sungchan, can I come in?”

“Oh, sure, hold on.” You clambered out of the tub as carefully as you could in the dim lighting coming from under the door.

Against your better judgment, you turned one set of lights on in the bathroom, then cracked the bathroom door open. Sungchan was in fact on the other side, and you stepped back to let him in. He looked around the bathroom, worry on his face.

You shut the door behind him, saying sheepishly, “So, I was lying about the puking my brains out.”

“But you don’t look okay.” He peered down at your face as you were still wincing against the bright lights. “You didn’t drink anything tonight, what’s wrong?”

You went to sit on the side of the tub, feeling a pain in your eyes now. You gestured to the light switch. “Can you turn that light off?”

“Uh, okay…” He obliged, and the room was dim once again.

Your eyes adjusted quickly, and you could still see the general outline of everything in the room. Sitting back in the tub, you pulled your knees to your chest. Well, no chance for your great escape now. Sungchan climbed into the dry tub with you, facing you. He didn’t fit great in the small space, all gangly limbs, and your knees bumped into each other. But he sat there with you quietly.

“I’ve got a migraine coming on, I had to get somewhere quiet and dark and take my meds.” You told him bluntly, opting to just take the plunge. Not like you could even attempt flowery language at the moment anyway. Sure, some of your speech capabilities were coming back now that there was less sensory input, but you weren’t going to be doing any soliloquies tonight.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sungchan said quietly. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, no. I actually- I actually don’t want to be alone right now, if that’s okay?” You surprised yourself with your answer.

“Yeah, of course.” He said reassuringly. “Do you want me to take you home?”

“I might not have drank but you did. I’ll be okay here, for the most part. I’m the one who came knowing that I get sound-induced migraines.”

“Wait, really?”

“Mm, yeah,” you pinched the bridge of your nose to alleviate some of the tension there for a moment. “Remember when I said Chenle pushes me out of my comfort zone in a good way most of the time?”

“Right.”

“One of the times it wasn’t... good was when he got an invite to Nu Chi’s Halloween party our freshman year, dragged me with him. And he always means the best when he does stuff like that. I hadn’t made any new friends at college, meanwhile he had a bunch, including some of the pledges at Nu Chi.”

“How he got the invite.”

“Exactly.” You needed to take a pause, resting your head against the cool tile again. After a few deep breaths, you pushed on in the story. “Anyway, we’d been there for a couple hours when the loudness and the music and everything finally got to me and I got a migraine. I had my go bag on me, and went to what I thought was an empty corner of the house to take my meds. But a couple other people saw me knocking back pills and wanted some. My head was hurting like a bitch, and they were trying to grab them from me and anyway, I spilled a bunch of them all over the floor, drenched myself with my water and their beer, and elbowed a dude and gave him a bloody nose.”

“Holy shit,” Sungchan breathed out.

You opened and closed your jaw a couple times to try to relax the muscles and joints there. “I couldn’t even open my eyes because my head hurt so bad. Chenle told me later I was screaming and Taeyong wanted to call an ambulance until Chenle ran up and explained what was happening. They put me, Chenle, and Jeno—turns out that’s whose nose I broke—in Taeyong’s room in the house for the rest of the night. Neither Chenle nor I were in any shape to drive ourselves home.”

“Wait is that how you met Jeno?”

“Yeah, and it turns out he wasn’t one of the ones trying to take my pills, he was trying to break up me and the people who were. Collateral damage.” You recounted it regrettably.

“When Jeno found out I’d invited you, he told me he’d keep his room clear in case we needed it. I thought he was just being a dick.” Sungchan sounded like he was having an epiphany. “Y/N, do you think you’ll be okay to move up a floor?”

The bass was thudding through the door, and you knew that if you stayed here when you transitioned into the throes of however bad this migraine fully got, you’d regret it. Grabbing your earplugs from your bag and putting them in, you gave him a thumbs-up and attempted a smile, but you knew it came out like more of a wince.

Sungchan kept you between him and the wall as you moved through the Nu Chi house, casting as much of a shadow against the garishly flashing lights as possible. Even through your earplugs, the music was raucous, people were practically screaming at each other, and you gripped one hand around his arm and the other onto his suit jacket to keep yourself balanced and to not lose him. When you got to the stairs, he fully wrapped an arm around your shoulders to jerk you out of the way of a drunk Nu Chi member stumbling his way down, and kept it there the rest of the way up. The noise was squeezing around your head like a vice, and you shut your eyes tight at the top of the stairs for a moment in an attempt to clear your head.

Sungchan’s voice was right beside your ear, muffled through the earplugs, “We’re almost there, Y/N, I’m sorry, come on.”

You were vaguely aware of the man with you feeling around on the top of a doorway before jiggling a doorhandle, and finally you were in a blissfully dark and quiet-ish room. Your head definitely hurt more than before, and you practically collapsed onto the bed.

“He was kind enough to stuff all his dirty clothes in the closet,” Sungchan muttered.

You managed a strangled chuckle at that, dropping your go bag onto the floor beside the bed. A moment of silence passed, and you could hear Sungchan awkwardly shifting his weight between his feet at the doorway.

“Sungchan,” you said his name, then patted the empty half of the bed beside you. “You can sit. I know Jeno doesn’t have any other furniture in here besides the bed and his PlayStation.”

“He probably only has a bedframe because it came with the room.”

You snickered, but were cut off by the squeezing pain turning to a sharp, stabbing pain behind your left eye, “Oh fuck!”

“Y/N?!” Sungchan was right beside you, and you felt the bed dip as he sat down beside you.

“Sorry, sorry, it feels like I’m getting an icepick lobotomy! Jesus!” You hissed, cupping a hand over your left eye as if that were actually going to do anything. “It’s normal, I’m fine. Relatively.”

“Okay…”

Still clutching your eye, you rolled onto your side and brought your knees up towards your chest. You blindly fumbled towards the head of the bed, and felt a pillow being pressed into your hand.

“Thanks,” you muttered, tucking it under your head.

“Do you want to lay under the covers?” Sungchan whispered.

“Do they smell like Jeno’s washed them in the past week?”

He laughed breathily at that, “Miraculously they do. I think he was planning on getting laid.”

“He gave up getting his dick wet for me. Jeno’s a real one,” you mumbled, feeling the covers that you were laying on top of being pulled out from under you.

Sungchan gently brought the sheet up to your shoulder, then a blanket too. The stabbing pain behind your eye was still there, and your stomach filled with dread as you acknowledged that your acute medication wasn’t going to be working this time. This was going to be a full-blown migraine, and who knew how many hours it would last.

“Thank you.”

“Is there anything else you need? Water?”

“No. Just uh, let me know when two hours have passed, I can take another dose of my meds that aren’t fucking working then.”

“Oh. Will do.”

You opened and closed your jaw, letting out a distinct groan. Another few minutes passed. Or, you think it was a few minutes, you couldn’t really check your phone for the time.

“Sungchan.”

“Yes?”

“You don’t have to stay. I’m sure the party is a lot more fun.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“…No.”

“I want to stay. I’m not going to have any fun out there knowing that you’re in all in this pain all alone in here.”

You squinted your right eye open, and had to crane your neck to look up at where Sungchan was sitting against the headboard. He had taken his suit jacket and shoes off at some point, now just in a rumpled dress shirt, loosened tie, slacks, and socks. He held your eye contact steadily, head tilted slightly and a frown across his handsome features.

Reaching your unoccupied hand up towards him, he watched it with confusion.

“What do you need? Your bag?”

“No.” You grabbed his hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“Oh.” An adorably radiant grin was on his face now instead.

SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 1

Sungchan knew you’d finally fallen asleep when you stopped muttering swears and curses under your breath, the pained expression fell from your face, and your hand that was holding his went limp. He could still hear the party going strong outside of Jeno’s bedroom, and a glance at his phone told him it was just after one in the morning. He had no want to rejoin his friends, to leave you.

He took his tie all the way off, thinking to himself that if you were feeling better, you might have joked that he looked like Mulder the off-duty funeral director. And he would’ve laughed and watched the cute way the corners of your mouth quirked up when you said something that you thought was funny. He set the tie down with his shoes on the floor beside the bed.

Careful to stay on top of the covers that you were sleeping under, Sungchan shifted until he was laying down too, pillow tucked under his head, facing you on his side, hand still holding yours.

Like usual, you didn’t remember falling asleep, but you did remember shutting your eyes tight and wishing really hard for your head to stop hurting so bad. Or to die. Whichever the Universe felt like granting. And judging by the fact that you were now waking up without a migraine, it seemed like the former.

The first thing you were aware of before you even opened your eyes was that you felt like shit. Sure, your head didn’t hurt anymore, but jeez the morning after wasn’t much better. Tired, achy, and your brain felt like TV static.

The second thing that you were aware of, after opening your eyes, was Jung Sungchan just a few inches from your face. He was still asleep, soft bursts of air passing from his lips and mussing up strands of hair that were falling into his eyes. You didn’t quite have enough in you to coo over his bedhead, but you could give half of a fond smile as you pushed yourself into a sitting position, running a sleepy hand over one side of your face.

Only one of your earplugs was still in your ears, and you looked around the bedsheets for the other one. After securing it, you scooted over to the edge of the bed to put the plugs back into your carrying case before rolling back over and pulling the blankets over you again. You deserved this, honestly. Sleeping in late, a comfy bed, warm blankets, a cute boy next to you, nothing to—

Your happy thoughts were ripped away by the sound of a loud alarm. You shot up, scrambling towards your tote bag to grab your phone from the depths of it and turn your goddamn alarm off before it woke Sungchan up.

“Mm?”

Too late.

Sheepishly, you looked over at him, “Sorry…”

“‘S okay,” he mumbled, flopping onto his back and rubbing a hand over his face. “How’s your head?”

“Better. A lot better, thanks.”

“Good, good.” He yawned, “Morning, by the way.”

“Good morning.”

His eyes were closed as he laid there, a hand resting on his chest, and you weren’t sure if he had fallen back asleep.

“…Sungchan?”

“Hm?”

Taking his inquisitive tone as a sign that you could keep talking, you said, “Uhm, that was the first time I’ve had anybody around for one my migraines in a while. I’m sorry if it was… well, I don’t know. What was it like for you?”

He opened his eyes, rolling onto his side to face you and tucking a hand under his cheek, “Oh, uh, I mean, I wasn’t quite worried, since you seemed like you knew exactly what was happening, you know? But still, I… I was wishing there was more I could do. It was weird knowing that you were in pain but not being able to see where it hurt.”

“I should’ve figured that might be upsetting. Sorry about all that.”

“No, Y/N, it's okay. I get it, you just wanted someone with you when you were hurting.”

“Yeah, yeah, I did,” you nodded, curling one of your hands into a fist in your lap, digging your nails into your palm in an attempt to not cry at how easily he saw right into you.

“I was more than happy to sit with you.”

“I’ve had these stupid migraines for years now. Tried every treatment in the book, been on every regiment. And my friends and family, they don’t treat me like I’m made of glass or anything, which I’m grateful for. Everyone in my life knows I’m a pro at it all: I’ve got my go bag, all my meds, my alarms, I’ve been going to doctors’ appointments, testing, everything for years. But like... they still hurt. The migraines still fucking hurt.” Your voice cracked over the word, and your nails dug in deeper. “And I just… think they forget that part sometimes? I don’t know, I guess they hear the word ‘migraine’ thousands of times over the years it sort of loses its meaning. They kind of forget what one actually is. But it hurts Sungchan, my head just hurts for hours or even days, sometimes so bad I throw up from the pain. I can’t do anything but lay in bed in the dark and cry. Last night’s wasn’t that bad but still… thank you. I needed for it to all be real to somebody.”

Sungchan pushed up into a sitting position, and through your watery vision you could see that his brows were furrowed. You followed where his gaze was locked, and watched as he gently unfurled your fingers. You used the thumb of your other hand to rub at the divots that your nails had left in your skin.

“The migraines are why I’ve been all weird, by the way.” You added, trying to ignore the strain in your voice.

“What?”

“When you wanted to buy me a drink after the game. One of my migraine medications that I take, I can’t drink alcohol on it. It just felt like a weird and long explanation to have to give in the moment. And when you asked if I wanted to dance with you last night, the music would’ve made the migraine come on quicker than it did, but explaining it to you then, again it felt like it would’ve ruined the moment even more.”

“Oh… don’t worry about it.”

There was still one big thing you hadn’t smoothed over. But it looks like you’re on man-shaped friend duties tonight, Sungchan. Stupid, stupid.

Pushing through the discomfort prickling at your skin, you asked, “Sungchan, do you want to go on a date?”

“A…” He looked you dead in the eyes for a moment, mouth parted, and blinked once, twice before he was absolutely beaming at you. “Yeah, yes, I do.”

“Okay.” You couldn’t help but giggle, nerves buzzing through you as your chest was airy and you were lightheaded for two reasons now, “Okay, good.”

“Is it bad for me to say that I’m relieved? That you have migraines? Well, not that you have them, because obviously they hurt, but like, that this is what it was? I seriously thought I was being stupid, like mixed signals or something. Like, you came to my game but then you didn’t want to go to the bar.” He ticked the instances off on the fingers of one hand.

“Medication,” you nodded.

“Right. Then you let me walk you home after, but you called me your friend.”

“That was just plain stupidity,” you admitted with a groan at having to relive that moment again.

“And you said yes to coming to the party, but then you didn’t want to dance with me,” Sungchan had now run out of fingers and dropped his hand back down to the bed.

“The music...”

“And when you disappeared, I thought you left because you didn’t like me. I just… felt like I was going crazy.”

“It’s not awful of you to be relieved about this. I’m sorry, Sungchan. Migraines aren’t conducive to romance, apparently.”

“Oh, bullshit.” He pushed back immediately. “They’re just not conducive to drinking and loud parties. That’s not romance.”

“Alright, fair. I’m wont to agree with you.”

“And you need to stop apologizing for your migraines. It’s not like you’re doing it on purpose.”

“Well, I did come to a loud ass party knowing I’d probably get a sound-induced migraine.”

“Okay, aside from that— which, I’m very flattered by and will never ever ask you to do anything like this ever again.”

“Okay.”

Suddenly the door handle rattled, then there was a banging on the door. “Hey! Are you two done in there?” Jeno yelled through the wood. “You better not be having post-headache sex on my bed!”

“Seems like he didn’t get laid last night,” Sungchan muttered.

“If he keeps up that pounding I’m going to get a rebound headache and he’s going to wake the entire house, please let him in,” you groaned.

The boy with you quickly moved to do so, unlocking the door and throwing it open to whisper aggressively, “Jeno! Shut the fuck up! People are still sleeping!”

“Oh. You’re dressed.”

You rolled your eyes at your friend, “I don’t know what you think a migraine is like, but getting my back blown out is pretty far down on my to-do list for immediately after.”

“How are you feeling?” Jeno was nice enough to ask as he rooted through his closet.

“Like shit. While you guys nurse actual hangovers today, I get to nurse a migraine hangover. Same awful morning after without the fun night before.”

“That sucks.” He secured a rumpled shirt and inside out pair of sweatpants. “I told Chenle you were crashing here last night, by the way. He didn’t just abandon you for shits and giggles.”

“Oh, thanks. He was sober enough to drive?”

“Mark had a Breathalyzer and everything.”

“Wow…”

“Now I recommend you two get the fuck out before everyone else wakes up and sees you sneaking out together.”

“Right,” Sungchan nodded, sitting on the edge of Jeno’s bed and pulling his shoes on.

You quickly gathered your shoes, phone, witch hat, and go bag before giving Jeno a short goodbye and following Sungchan out. The Nu Chi house was thankfully quiet as everyone was still asleep in their own rooms, save for the partygoers and brothers who had passed out on the couches in the living rooms. Once you were on the front porch, the two of you dared to speak again.

“I’ll drive you home, Y/N,” Sungchan offered.

“Mhm, thanks,” you squinted against the bright sunlight, reaching into your bag for the spare pair of sunglasses you kept in there.

He gestured to your bag. “So what all do you have in there?”

“Everything but the kitchen sink.” You sighed, finally securing your sunglasses and putting them on. They did help, but you knew there was no way you were going to avoid a rebound headache today. Realizing that Sungchan might actually have been genuinely asking and wasn’t just trying to be polite, you decided to give him a sincere answer as well. “Uh, my meds, my blood pressure cuff, earplugs, sunglasses, some snacks, other miscellaneous non-migraine related stuff like an umbrella.”

“Blood pressure cuff?” He stopped in front of a sedan parked on the street, and opened the passenger door for you.

Even through your unpleasant migraine hangover, you couldn’t help the giddy smile that crossed your lips at the gesture.

Once the both of you were in the car, you explained, “One of my medications affects my blood pressure. I have to check it every few hours, or whenever I feel kind of funny. That’s partially what the snacks are for too.”

“Really?” He started the car and pulled out into the street.

“Most of my meds I need to take with food, so keeping snacks on me makes it easy. The sweet ones are in case my blood sugar drops though.”

“Blood sugar too?”

“A different medication affects my appetite, secondary effect is on my blood sugar. Fun fact, it’s the same one that keeps me from drinking alcohol. Anyway, if you’re ever craving something sweet, I keep gummies and stuff on me usually.”

Sungchan let out a deep breath. “Wow…”

“Oh and water.” You perked up as you realized you’d forgotten something, and reached in for said item. “I've got my water bottle. I need water to take my meds, obviously, but I also need to drink water to make sure I don’t get kidney stones from my medication.”

The car had stopped at a stoplight, and he looked over at you in disbelief. “What the fuck.”

“Hey, it’s this or be entirely unable to participate in society.” You explained. “I used to get five or six migraines a week, with really bad or mild headaches constantly in between. I couldn’t do anything, they were disabling. Clearly, they still are now when I do get them, but I only get one or two a month.”

“I can’t imagine— I… yeah…” He trailed off as the light turned green, a deep frown etching itself on his features as he clearly was trying to imagine what a huge shift in his life that would be. And was having a hard time doing so.

“People without chronic illnesses usually can’t, until they get one,” you shrugged. “I know I couldn’t imagine it either. Then I got my first migraine. Then my second, and my third. I think the ‘chronic illness’ part really hit for me when I had to order my first sharps disposal bin for the monthly injections I take.”

“You’re…”

“Do not say that I’m so strong or any live laugh love type shit right now.”

He laughed, shaking his head, “No, no, not what I was going to say. I was just thinking… you’re really cool.”

“I just info-dumped about my migraines, medication, medication side effects, and treatment to you for ten minutes straight and that’s the conclusion you came to?” You asked in disbelief as he pulled into your apartment complex, and it dawned on you just how long you had been talking about yourself for. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been that detailed with someone other than your neurologist or your mom about your condition and treatment.

Sungchan put his car in park to turn and look you in the eye. “I’m looking at the bigger picture here: You’re a Lit major, you like Gothic fiction, you’re good at writing, you’re smart and know things like death of the author and stuff, you like Pacific Rim, you’ve come to one of my games, you’re funny, and you just info-dumped to me about something personal for ten minutes. So yes, I think you’re cool. Actually, cool might be an understatement.”

“Jung Sungchan, you…” Your cheeks were hurting with how wide you were grinning. Whether it was the migraine hangover or truly from how warm and happy his words made you, you couldn’t formulate a proper response, “Congrats, I’m speechless.”

“I think that's good?” He laughed again. “Anyway, you told Jeno earlier that you felt like shit, so I won’t hold you up anymore. Rest well today, Y/N.”

“Thanks. You too, Sungchan.” You wrapped your hand around the door handle but stopped just short of actually opening it. “Oh, and uhm, I don’t know if this too eager or whatever, but I’m free tomorrow.”

His face lit up with recognition at what you were implying. “Me too. But are you going to be okay? Like, recovered?”

“Yeah, I’ve got all day today to sleep it off.”

“Okay.” He grinned.

“Okay.” You repeated. “Text me?”

“Yes, yes. I will.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

And with that, you got out of his car, making sure to take your go bag that had been on your lap for the whole drive.

Halfway to your front door, you turned around to give Sungchan a final wave goodbye, and he waved back through the windshield. Once you’d finally disappeared into your apartment, he looked over at his now empty passenger seat. Well, not completely empty, he realized. Your witch hat was on the floor of the passenger side, you’d forgotten to grab it on your way out. He picked it up, gently setting it on the seat beside him. He’d just give it back to you when he saw you again for your date tomorrow.

“A date,” Sungchan sighed happily, feeling his chest swell and nearly burst with joy. “A date, a date, a date.”

Putting his car in reverse, he looked through the rear window as he muttered, “Suck an egg, Donghyuck. Man-shaped friend, my ass.”

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 2

Sungchan picked you up at 7:00 p.m. on the dot for your first date. You made sure to take your nighttime meds early and silence your alarms so there was nothing to bother you that night. Migraines notwithstanding, of course. You still had to bring your go bag just in case you needed anything acute, but you didn’t think twice about leaving the majority of it in the car, tucking just a couple individually packaged tablets into your pocket before accepting Sungchan’s hand that he offered to you after opening your car door for you.

Walking into the movie theater with him after he bought your tickets, you were about to start off in the direction that the usher had pointed you when your date stopped you.

“You want anything from concessions?” He nodded towards the long line of other couples, families, and groups of friends.

“I’m not big on overpriced popcorn,” you shook your head with a smile. “Thanks though, Sungchan.”

“You sure you don’t want a soda or candy? How’s your, you know, blood sugar?”

It was then that your polite smile morphed into a genuine, touched one, and you squeezed his hand that you were holding. “I’m doing good, promise. I made sure I ate before. But thank you, seriously. You’re really sweet.”

“Okay, but let me know if you need anything.”

“Sungchan, can I tell you something?” You ducked your head in towards him conspiratorially.

“Yeah, of course.”

You gently shook one side of your jacket, and a muffled rattling sound came from within it. “I snuck a bag of Skittles in,” you whispered to him.

He chuckled as you dropped your jacket back down and smoothed over the inside pocket inconspicuously. “Two steps ahead of me.”

“I just didn’t want to ruin our date if I got low.”

“It’s very thoughtful, thanks.”

“So are you!” You tried to reassure him.

The two of you entered where your movie would be showing, and picked your seats. The previews had already started, so you had to drop your voices to whispers.

“But you’re going to be good with the bright light, and the sounds?” Sungchan double-checked with you.

You nodded insistently. “You’re the one who made me compile a list of stuff that I could do, remember?”

“I know, but you also came to that party knowing that it was like 100% guaranteed to give you a migraine. So I think I’ve earned some skepticism.”

“Okay, fine. You got me there,” you sighed. “But I get nothing out of suggesting things that will give me migraines other than cutting our time together short. Which I don’t want to do.”

Sungchan shifted in his seat, and when you looked over at him, you could see a small, bashful smile on his face. “Good. Glad we got that cleared up.”

The previews finally ended, and the entire theater quieted down, including you two. You settled in to watch the movie, scooting closer to your date, looping your arm under his, and resting your head on his shoulder. He hesitantly leaned his head against the top of yours.

As you left the theater hand-in-hand with Sungchan, you two were deep in discussion about the movie, and in the back of your mind, you realized with a panic that you had far too much that you wanted to say that wouldn’t fit into the short ride back to your apartment. Not to mention that you didn’t want your night with him to be over yet.

“Hey.” You called for his attention as he opened up the passenger door for you, stopping before you got in the car.

“Hey.” He offered you a lopsided grin, still holding the door open with one hand and now caging you between him and the open car door.

If the parking lot wasn’t literally swarming with other movie theater patrons, you swore you would’ve grabbed him and kissed him stupid right there and then. But a family of five walked by at that moment, so you swallowed down the itch.

“We should go somewhere,” you suggested, trying to sound equal parts nonchalant and hopeful. Which was a weird combination, you knew, but you didn’t want to come across as too desperate. Again, a ridiculous sentiment, but it was engrained in you with social conditioning or whatever.

“We just went somewhere,” he pointed out knowingly, and you swore that was a smirk that you spotted on his face in the shadowy lighting afforded by the parking lot streetlamps.

“We should go somewhere else.”

“Like where?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, despite how desperate you felt on the inside to just be around him right now. “Somewhere. Are you hungry?”

“Are you?”

You pressed your lips together in a thin line. “Well—”

Finally, he smiled, nodded towards the car, and said, “I know somewhere. Get in.”

Sungchan closed the car door after you before walking around to get into the driver’s side. He didn’t offer you any information or clues as to your new destination as he left the movie theater parking lot. The hockey captain drove with one hand casually holding the bottom of the steering wheel, the other tapping out the rhythm of whatever song was playing over his speakers onto his thigh. You dragged your eyes from his fingers to the passing scenery.

Honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been on a good date. Even the last date you’d been on was a distant memory. Lunch with some CompSci major your freshman year, a blind date set up by a mutual acquaintance. He just talked over you the whole time. You didn’t deign to go on a second date with him. It wasn’t that your migraines made it impossible to date—they hadn’t even come up at the date with the CompSci major (mostly because he didn’t give you the opportunity to say much of anything)—but you knew that it was always going to be something to get out of way. Either up front or at some point down the line. And it was exhausting enough for you to have to completely restructure your life around them, how could you really ask some stranger who barely knew you—or didn’t at all—to consider doing the same? It felt like it just made your dating pool even narrower, an added standard that you didn’t even get to pick.

But with Sungchan, it had happened in the worst way possible, you disappeared on him because you were having a migraine, without even having told him anything about them. And not only was he more than chill about it, he stayed with you through your entire full-blown migraine. Listened to you explain every ailment, medication, and medication complication that you have, and just tucked all that information away to keep track of your wellbeing. Taken it all in stride and made it look easy. And that was before your first date. It almost made you angry. Not at Sungchan, but at the fact that other people had ever made you feel like an inconvenience.

The car slowing to a stop knocked you from your thoughts, and you didn’t even realize that you had been silent for the entire trip. Sungchan didn’t seem to mind, though, as he hadn’t tried to start a conversation either. He put the car in park as you looked around, trying to gauge where exactly you were.

“Are we… on campus?” You turned to him with an eyebrow raised.

He was already out of the car, though, jogging around to get your door. As he opened it for you, he tilted his head innocently, “What was that?”

You stepped out, taking in your surroundings. “Are we at a campus parking garage?”

“Specifically, the top floor of Evergreen Parking Garage,” Sungchan clarified, rolling the passenger window down.

Evergreen Parking Garage was a commuter-only parking facility, meaning that this level was empty this late at night. It was also located at the furthest reaches of the north block of campus, which bordered a nature preserve, meaning that while on one side was your university campus, the other side was entirely evergreen trees. Hence the name.

Sungchan had parked on the side that faced the nature preserve, and as you turned to question your date as to why exactly he’d taken you to campus, you were instead greeted by the sight of him hunched over to lean into the open passenger window, seemingly messing around with the audio controls of the still-running car.

You tilted your head to one side, then the other as you just watched him struggle for a moment before finally speaking up. “What uh… What are you doing, Sungchan?”

He banged his head on the frame of the window as he went to stand back up. “Fuck! Ow…”

Covering your hand to muffle your giggles, you waited patiently for him to turn around and answer you.

Still clutching his head, he said with a sheepish smile, “Just give me a sec, sorry. Technical difficulties.”

And with that, he opened the door to properly sit in the passenger seat, futzing with his phone and the car radio. Finally, there was music playing from the speakers as opposed to the radio station ads, and he turned the volume up before getting back out of the car and shutting the door. With both the driver and passenger windows rolled down, you could hear the song clearly.

“I was originally going to try to take you to this lookout, but there were other cars there, so I had to keep driving by it and oh my god why did I tell you that—” He scratched the back of his head nervously. “Anyway, since we didn’t get to dance at the party…”

Sungchan offered his hand out to you, and you set yours atop it. The upbeat song that had been playing finished just then, switching to a much slower, softer one. You stepped in closer, smiling up at him as you looped your free arm around his neck. His other hand settled on your hip, and he slowly started leading you in an uncertain sway of sorts.

You let out an airy chuckle, “Was this really the kind of dancing you had in mind for a frat party?”

“Would you believe me if I said yes?” He questioned.

“Would you believe me if I said that I believed you?”

“No.”

You snickered. “Smart man.”

“But this is good, too. Better, even.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, there’s not a bunch of other drunk, sweaty, loud people everywhere knocking into us. I don’t have to worry about somebody spilling beer on me, or other guys looking at you, or the DJ picking something bad. Or you getting a migraine.” Sungchan slotted his fingers with yours. “I just get to think about you.”

You rested your head on his chest, eyes zoning out on your linked hands. It was his right hand, so his pinky finger couldn’t quite fold down along with the others. “Yeah. I like this, too,” you agreed softly.

A cool breeze gently blew across your cheek that wasn’t resting on Sungchan’s chest, and you were glad for the warmth of him pressed against your front. Your feet awkwardly bumped into each other, making you chuckle, and he apologized with a nervous laugh.

“It’s okay,” you reassured him. “I haven’t exactly taken any ballroom dancing classes. Have you?”

“Well...”

You jerked your head back to look him in the face. “You have?”

“You know how Greek life has those formals every year?”

“You’re not in a frat...”

“No, I’m not. But freshman year, Nu Chi had pitched in for this dance teacher and— God, I can’t believe I’m telling you this,” Sungchan said regretfully, tilting his head back to look up in embarrassment.

“Sungchan, come on!” You pleaded.

“Hendery swore me to secrecy...”

“Well now you have to tell me!”

“Hendery’s date couldn’t make it to one of the lessons, so he asked me to fill in for her...”

Your jaw dropped with delight, “Was his date an Amazon? How did that work? He couldn’t have possibly dipped you! Or twirled you!”

“She was taller than him, to be fair,” he admitted. “Nothing that couldn’t be adjusted for with some thick soles, but, you know...”

“You’re such a good friend, Sungchan,” you said through a couple of giggles, imagining the two of them attempting the aforementioned twirls and dips.

He dropped his head, shaking it. “Right, thanks.”

“So I guess I should be leading then, hm?” You teased, your feet bumping his again in that moment.

“I feel like you’d lead us over the edge of this parking deck, Y/N,” he joked.

Before you could make a retort, he stepped back from you to gently twirl you around by the hand, and a cross between a surprised yelp and a laugh tumbled from your mouth. As he brought you back into his chest, you could barely think over the joyful buzzing in your head that resonated out to every square inch of your body.

“Okay, okay, I guess you can lead,” you surrendered, looping your arm back around his neck again.

After some time, the songs had picked up tempo again, but you and Sungchan were long past actually dancing to them. You were more so just holding each other, leisurely swaying, and from here you got to listen to the sounds of his breathing. He’d taken to rubbing absentminded circles into your hip with his thumb, and the fingers of your arm that was around his neck had dipped below the material of his collar, resting on his bare skin.

“Sungchan?” You murmured.

“Yes?” He responded, his voice rumbling right under your ear.

“Thank you for not making me do this in front of a bunch of other cars at the other lookout.”

He let out a couple quiet laughs, his chest shaking with each. “You’re welcome. I figured all of the teens making out in their cars also didn’t want to watch us do this either.”

You mock gasped, pretending to sound scandalized, “You were going to take me to a lover’s lookout? On the first date? Jung Sungchan…”

“Who are you, my grandma? Nobody calls it that anymore.” He pinched your side. “And only because it’s actually got a great view over the city and—”

“I’m kidding, Sungchan.” You pinched him back, lightly, on the nape of the neck. “Besides, I wouldn’t have been opposed to a trip to a lover’s lookout with you anyway…”

You heard the breath hitch in his throat, then Sungchan swallowed and inhaled through his nose, before he finally spoke, “Really?”

His grip on your hip tightened, sending a bolt of electricity along your skin out from the contact point. You brought your head out of his chest and used your arm around his neck to draw him in even closer.

“Really,” you echoed, blatantly staring at his lips now that they were centimeters away from yours. “And it looks like we’ve got our own right here.”

Then Sungchan was using his hold on your hip to push you back step by step until your back was against the side of his car. Your own arm around his neck kept him anchored to you as he stood hovering over you, blotting out any light that would’ve come from the light post above you. Your noses were almost touching, your breaths mingling in the negligible space between your mouths. You were looking at Sungchan’s eyes now, usually a warm, deep brown, now all inky blackness in the dark of night, and staring down at your own mouth. Your tongue instinctually darted out to wet your lips, and that seemed to be the final straw.

His mouth on yours was desperate, but not desperate to get laid, like your previous lover’s lookout banter might imply. Like he was just desperate for you. He stole kiss after kiss from your lips, but never forced his tongue into your mouth, nor moved his hands anywhere else. Despite leaning more and more of his weight forward onto you, utterly pinning you to the car, he kept his bruising grip on your hip and never let go of your hand.

You parted your mouth with a bedraggled gasp of his name, and he finally took this as an invite to slip his tongue into the mix. You shifted to rest the hand that was laced with his above your head, on the roof of the sedan, giving his hand a squeeze. He squeezed your hand back.

Turning your head and breaking the kiss, you hoped he’d get the idea as you continued laying there half-spread out under him. He did, thankfully, kissing from the corner of your mouth across your cheek and down your jaw and neck.

“Sung…chan…” You breathed out his name, stroking the back of his head with your free hand as his lips latched onto a spot at the base of your neck.

Trailing your hand down further, you snuck it up under the hem of his shirt, feeling over the expanse of his chest and stomach. Oh fuck yeah, hockey players. You pulled the article of clothing up towards his head insistently, and he detached from your neck for the two of you to jointly strip him of it. Oh fuck yeah, hockey players. You truly didn’t know if he looked or felt better, but you couldn’t ogle him for long, because he was back on top of you as soon as he’d thrown the shirt into the front seat via the open passenger window beside you. His lips were so warm on yours, his skin even hotter under your touch now as you unabashedly felt up every inch of it and the muscles underneath.

But soon that wasn’t enough either, and you were fumbling at his pants button. He groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating down into your own chest, as his hand snapped around your wrist.

“Ahh…” He hissed regretfully.

“What?” You looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I can’t get my dick out in public.”

You glanced at the car behind you, with its tinted windows, then back at Sungchan. He met your eyes, then shrugged. “That’ll work.”

It was a mad scramble to get the door to the backseat open, so much so that you accidentally smacked Sungchan in the leg with said door. After lots of apologies through giggles, both of you were in the backseat with the doors closed and locked. Sungchan had the task of awkwardly reaching forward over the console to roll the windows back up first, during which you made a couple observations about his backseat, which you hadn’t seen much of before. His practice bag for hockey was back here—which was different than his gear bag, as you’d already been told. The gear bag actually had his equipment that he needed to play with like mouth guards, sticks, and all of that, while his practice bag had more personal stuff like changes of clothes or hygiene products. You figured his gear bag was either in the trunk or at the rink, as he didn’t always need to carry it back and forth with him. But other than the practice bag and a couple of reusable grocery bags on the floor, the backseat was pretty clean. You were genuinely impressed, especially because he made it sound like he tended to chauffeur a lot of his teammates/roommates around frequently.

Sungchan eventually reentered the backseat fully, focusing a content, closed-lip smile on you. You’d taken it upon yourself to lay down on the seat, your knees propped up by your feet. He settled in to kneel on the same cushion as your feet, but just rested an arm on your knees and his chin atop that forearm to gaze down at you, still smiling.

“What? What’s that smile for?” You asked, starting to feel a bit self-conscious.

“Nothing, I just—” He reached both his hands out towards you, fingers spread, and you got the idea, linking yours with them. “I hope you don’t get the wrong idea. I want this to be a real thing, Y/N. Like, I don’t just want to sleep with you. I don’t even do this kind of stuff—car sex on the first date in a campus parking garage?—literally ever. I’m just kinda crazy about you. I know for most people usually it’s the opposite; you know, they save it for later for really important people. They try to make it special, but I know it’ll be special just because it’s you.”

“Sungchan... I’ve never done something like this either,” you admitted, squeezing both of his hands tight. “I think I’m just kinda crazy about you too.”

“Okay. Cool.” He beamed at you, and you felt your insides turn to mush in that moment. You didn’t think they’d ever un-mush again.

“Now can you please take my clothes off before I spontaneously combust?”

“Fuck. Yeah.” He nodded, immediately turning serious as his brow furrowed and he leaned forward to lock his lips with yours again, propping himself up with one hand to hover above you.

You let your knees fall apart to give him room to settle in between your legs. He pulled at your jacket first, and you sat up to help yank it off, dropping it to the floor with his practice bag. With you no longer laying down, he could use two hands to get the next part, your top. His fingertips skimmed along your skin as he grabbed the hem. You broke the kiss so he could start pulling the clothing up your body—

A loud knock against the driver’s side window quite literally made you scream, and Sungchan jerked up and hit his head once again, this time on the roof of the car. You tugged your shirt back down to cover you, ducking to lay flat on the seat as Sungchan looked at you with panic in his eyes.

Another knock came at the window, this time accompanied by a man’s voice, “Campus security! Roll the window down or I’m going to ask you to turn the car off and step out!”

“Just a second!” Sungchan yelled back, a noticeable crack in his voice. He had a difficult time maneuvering his lanky body over the console fully into the driver’s seat again.

“Now!” The man called out again. “Three! Two!”

Sungchan didn’t have time to put on his shirt before ‘one,’ and he rushed to roll the window down. A flashlight was immediately shone into the car, and you didn’t doubt your own visibility to the security officer. You were remaining laying down for your own mental wellbeing at this point. You didn’t think that you could deal with looking this man in the eye right now.

You didn’t know if it was wisdom or embarrassment that kept your date from saying anything, but he thankfully didn’t speak until spoken to, not offering up any incriminating information. After five entire seconds of silence, the officer let out an audible sigh.

“No overnight parking in this garage,” he said, his tone making it very clear that he knew that was not what was going on. “I’ll be back in five minutes and if you’re still here, you’re getting a ticket.”

“Yes, sir,” Sungchan replied.

“I’m sure that the captain of our hockey team wouldn’t want to get put on probation at the beginning of the season.”

“N-No, sir.” His voice cracked again.

The security officer grunted, but said nothing more. You heard Sungchan roll the window back up, then the sound of another car driving away. Slowly, Sungchan turned around to look at you over the console with wide, horrified eyes.

“He knew who I was…” He whispered. “That was the most terrifying 45 seconds of my life.”

“You’re famous, Sungchan,” you teased, sitting up in the backseat now that the coast was clear.

“Yeah, and fame has got so many perks so far.”

“Almost got into your first scandal already.” You clicked your tongue disapprovingly. “Caught with a girl in your backseat. What will the fans say?”

“Considering my fans are all frat bros, probably something along the lines of wolf whistles and incoherent, congratulatory lewd jeering.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, able to picture that perfectly considering you’d already gotten a taste at the first home game you’d gone to. “Sounds about right.”

“Anyway, I should take you home before that guy comes back.”

“Good idea.” You slipped your jacket back on.

“Are you going to come up here or am I your chauffeur?”

“I suppose I’ll sit up there with you,” you sighed, opening the backseat to get out and into the front normally since there was no security man around.

Back in the passenger seat, you handed Sungchan’s shirt back to him, “Here, have some decency. You’re the captain of the hockey team, you know.”

“I’m sorry, who was going to spontaneously combust if we didn’t get naked in the next 0.2 seconds?” He scoffed, pulling his top back on.

“I don’t recall.”

“Sure.”

“And who’s still hard in their jeans right now?”

“Don’t remind me, I have to drive like this,” he groaned, taking the car out of park with a shake of his head.

As Sungchan drove with one hand, the other reached over to take yours, lacing his fingers together with yours.

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER 6

Just a few days later, and you were at the rink again, eagerly watching the hockey game in front of you. Chenle was beside you, continuing his constant sports commentary on every play that happened. You still mostly tuned it out, but you were pretty sure you at least understood most of the basic rules that Taeyong had explained to you before. You kept your eyes on Sungchan, cheering him on along with the other various Nu Chi brothers around you and other fans in the stands. It wasn’t as full of a house as it had been for the first home game, but you were perfectly content to have a slightly quieter environment.

Sungchan happened to skate by your section as everyone was resetting their positions, giving you a wave through the clear barrier. You gave him a slightly bashful but nevertheless bright grin as you waved back.

“So are you two like... dating now?” Hendery asked from your other side, leaned forward with both of his elbows on his knees as he watched the game. He looked back at you over his shoulder with a shit-eating grin, though, one that made you roll your eyes.

“I don’t know. We’ve been on a date. I mean, there was the Halloween party, but I got a migraine so I don’t think that really counts, so— I don’t have to explain myself to you!” You scowled at him, shoving him away by his shoulder.

He laughed as he let himself get jostled around in his seat from the push, holding his hands up in surrender. “Just curious. Unlike your bestie over there, I think you two are adorable.”

“What?” You looked over at Chenle, who Hendery had pointed at.

Chenle had apparently been listening enough to be able to jump in to defend himself. “It’s not what it sounds like. I think you two are great, promise.”

You turned back to your other friend. “Then what the hell are you talking about, Hendery?”

“He just doesn’t want to lose,” the Nu Chi member explained. “I pegged Sungchan’s huge crush on you on day 1 of Dr. Son’s class. Once the Phanta Phour stuff started, I knew that boy had no chance. Chenle just didn’t think you’d ever... hold on, how’d he put it... be into uh, ‘Neanderthal frat-bro-in-law types.’”

“I was maybe a bit tipsy...” Chenle added in.

“So you made a bet on if Sungchan and I would get together? In four whole years?” You looked from left to right between them.

“Loser has to buy winner a 12-pack,” Hendery confirmed with that same grin. “When Phantasmagorical Phriday ended this year, I really thought I’d lost. But then you turned up at the game last week and I figured Sungchan just might score himself a buzzer beater.”

“You two need to get better hobbies,” you declared with a snort.

“This so counts as sudden-death OT, but whatever,” Chenle scoffed under his breath.

You smacked him across the chest. “And don’t call my dating life ‘sudden death’ either.”

“Hey.” He said softly, grabbing your arm, and you turned your head to meet his gaze. “I really was worried about you going to the Halloween party with your head. I swear.”

“I know, LeLe,” you nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “You did some great wingmanning once we got there.”

The brief flash of sincerity you got from your best friend was over as quick as it had come, as you heard the crash of helmets on the ice, and both your focuses were drawn back to the game. Two players had collided into each other and the clear barrier right in front of your faces. You grimaced sympathetically as you tried to identify the player from your team. 23— Jeno, ah, he’d be alright. And you were right, he took off almost immediately as the other guy was left behind still dazed.

At the end of the game, with the buzz of another win in your veins and the anticipation of seeing Sungchan thrumming along your skin, you bounced on your heels as you waited in the lobby. You weren't paying attention to the ecstatic, dramatic recollections that Chenle and the Nu Chi brothers were giving of specific plays around you, your gaze entirely focused on the locker room exit.

The very first player to leave was Sungchan, his eyes already scanning the crowd. Without a second thought, you darted over to him, ignoring the couple of whoops and whistles you two got from your friends.

Sungchan beamed down at you as he went to pull you into a hug, and you were immediately enveloped in the smell of the freshly washed clothes that you’d caught last time. This time, though, there was the distinct, crisp smell of ice rink ice under it as well, reminding you of when you’d go ice skating with friends.

“Hey,” you smiled up at him as he let you go, but didn’t step back very far. “You played really good again. I’m pretty sure. A bit more sure than I was last time.”

He was still grinning, looking down at the floor then back up at you before he responded, “Thank you. And I don’t really expect you to become a hockey pro or anything if all that doesn’t interest you. As long as you don’t expect me to remember what death of the author is.”

“This was only my second game, have some faith in me!” You cried out indignantly. “And no, I don’t expect you to become a full-blown literary critic either.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologized through a couple of poorly suppressed giggles. “I do believe in you. I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to learn boring sports stuff for me.”

“I do want to be able to follow the basics of a game without Chenle or Taeyong annotating it for me, at least.”

“Oh, yeah, you can definitely do that. Might need to come to a few more games, though...”

You nodded giddily. “Just let me know when the home games are and I’m there.”

“Yo!” A voice had called from the gaggle of guys heading towards the exit. You didn’t even realize that the rest of the team had left the locker room in the time that you’d been talking to Sungchan.

While you couldn’t tell who had gotten your attention, it was Donghyuck that asked, “Are you two coming or are you just going to keep making moony eyes at each other all night?”

“Yeah, Sungchan, you’re our ride!” Yangyang yelled out from somewhere.

“DD!” Jeno cheered.

“I’ll drive you two,” Mark offered with a shake of his head.

“Shotgun!” The two of them immediately dibs-ed in unison.

“Sorry, bitches, I’m his little,” Donghyuck declared. “That means eternal dibs on shotgun in Mark’s car.”

The frat president scoffed, “You only give a shit about that when it directly benefits you.”

“You guys go ahead,” Sungchan cut into their bickering. “We’re right behind you.”

After they had all filed out, he looked back down at you, a nervous smile worming across his face. “Sorry about that...”

“It’s okay,” you said. “So... you ready to go?”

The two of you had already discussed going to the after-game celebrations with the team before this. Sungchan texted you last night to check in and make sure you’d be okay with going from the loud game to a noisy bar/pool hall with a bunch of frat guys after. You’d assured him that you’d be okay as long as you sat away from any music speakers at the bar, and he’d in turn made you promise to tell him if you needed to leave early.

However, he now halted you as you were slowly turning towards the exit. “Wait, I want to try this again.”

With a sneaking suspicion of what he was about to do, you assured him, “Sungchan, you don’t have to—”

“Let me do this. Please.” He gave you those same eyes that had convinced you to go to a frat party in the first place, and you were squaring your shoulders back to face him, giving him a firm nod.

“Okay. Go for it.”

He asked casually, “So, did you drive yourself?”

You had to hold back a laugh, covering your mouth to straighten your face before replying coyly, “Oh, me? I walked. My apartment is close.”

“So, the team all goes out to this bar after home games. It’s a pretty sleazy dive bar, and I know it’s a Thursday night, but I’d really like for you to come with me. I’ll buy you a... soda.”

“I would love to come, Sungchan,” you giggled, adjusting your purse strap.

“Awesome,” he grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

As you walked up to the passenger side of his car with him, you suddenly realized something. “Wait, did you have your car last time, too?”

“Maybe?” He rubbed the back of his neck, reaching for the door handle to open it for you.

“Then why did you walk me home?”

“To spend more time with you?”

You stole a quick kiss before ducking into the passenger seat.

Squished into one side of a booth with Sungchan’s arm around you, you chatted happily with Chenle, Ten, and Sicheng, who were sitting opposite from you. The team and cheer section were spread out between a couple booths and tables near each other, a few of them up playing pool too. You sipped on your soda between discussions about tonight’s game, upcoming games, classes, or whatever else struck you all. Currently, you were locked in a conversation with Ten about the most recent assigned reading in a class that you two shared together this semester.

“I thought that scene had a lot of great allusions back to the earlier one with her mother and the pie baking,” you gushed.

“Really?” Ten tilted his head curiously. “I was seeing it more as a continuation of the cannibalism-sex-love metaphor, since they were eating figs, you know.”

You nodded knowingly. “That’s true. Everything’s about sex—”

“Except sex.” You two finished quoting your professor in unison.

“And then with figs, there’s the Bible interpretation, of course,” you continued.

“Always the Bible.”

“We can never escape what John Milton did for Christian fanfiction, truly.”

“But I do like the pie scene connection the more that I think about it, actually.” Ten knocked back the rest of his cocktail. “And, tying her mother into the cannibalism metaphor could be a fascinating angle, too.”

Your eyes widened as you were practically vibrating your seat with excitement now. “Yeah, her earliest memory being of food, parental love, and harm...”

“Anyway, I need a refill.” Your friend shook his glass of ice with a smile. “Be back. Good chat as always, Y/N.”

Chenle and Sicheng scooted out of the booth to let Ten out, the former heading off towards the restrooms while the co-captain followed his roommate to the bar, leaving just you and Sungchan. You continued musing over the new connections you’d just made in the text as you turned your gaze back over to Sungchan beside you. He was already looking at you, a fond half-smile on his face.

“Hi.” He said quietly.

“Hi,” you replied, just as quiet.

Sungchan took a swig of his drink, then eyed yours. “You haven’t drunk any water since we get here.”

He’d been sure to not only order your promised soda of choice, but also water, and as you now looked over at your two cups, you could tell that the water had not been touched at all while the soda was practically empty.

“Oh uh, I guess I haven’t.”

“Drink some.” He pushed it towards you insistently. “Can’t have you getting kidney stones on my watch.”

“Okay, okay.” You acquiesced easily, switching your straw over to that glass and chugging a quarter of it in one go. “Better?”

“Much.” He nodded in satisfaction. “So what were you and Ten saying about pies and sex or whatever? Sex isn’t about sex?”

“Oh, it’s just something one of our professors says a lot. ‘Everything is about sex except sex.’ For lit analysis. In literature, pretty much everything is about sex. Or can be. You can turn like, anything in a piece of text into an innuendo or euphemism if you wanted to. Except for sex. Like, if a sex scene is included in a piece of literature, it’s not actually about the sex that’s being depicted. The sex is meant to represent something else. Like politics, or social structures, or whatever other themes are present in the work. Unless you’re just reading porn. But even then, there’s artistic merit to erotica, and plenty to be learned about the social structures at the time it was written, too.”

Sungchan hadn’t blinked the entire time you’d been rambling on, and upon you finally stopping, blinked in rapid succession as he seemed to come to from a daze. “Wow. Uh, interesting. Filing that away with death of the author.”

“Sungchan...” You leaned in to whisper, placing a hand on the inside of his thigh, just above his knee. His leg jumped, knocking his knee into the tabletop. Your hand had narrowly avoided being smashed too, saved only by its position curled around his leg instead of directly on top. You didn’t move it up or down now though, simply tapping your index finger against the loose material of his sweatpants as you giggled. “What are you thinking about?”

He cleared his throat a couple of times. “How you still have three-quarters of that glass of water left to drink.”

You laughed, slumping to relax into his side and pulling your hand back up to a more casual position on top of his leg. With your other hand, you grabbed your water. “Alright, fine.”

Not too long after your water had been drained, Sungchan was driving you home. Some of your other friends had taken off as well, and you didn't put up too much of a protest when he offered. As your familiar building came into view, you suddenly remembered something.

“Oh, visitor’s parking is over there. Sorry, forgot to mention before.” You pointed to a few parking spots painted with yellow lines instead of white, further away from the apartment entrances than the resident parking. “They’re a bit picky. Chenle got towed after like, five minutes one time.”

“Got it. Thanks.” Sungchan smoothly turned the wheel to pull into one of the open visitor’s spots.

Your reason for showing it to him was two-fold. One, to let him know you hoped he’d be coming over more often, so he’d need that information for future reference. And two, for perhaps less innocent ulterior motives tonight. Truly, your apartment complex only towed people after dark. Overnight visitors. Chenle’s five-minute tow had been a fluke.

“I’ll walk you to your door,” he said with no prompting, and you had to hold in a sigh of relief.

Instead, you gave him a genuine smile. “Thanks, Sungchan.”

“I don’t think I thanked you for coming tonight. To the game.” He slowly meandered up the sidewalk with you, hand holding yours.

“Thanks for inviting me again. I had a lot of fun.” You squeezed his hand.

Your front door loomed in the not-so-distant distance.

“Uh, are you busy this weekend?” He rushed to ask. “I have Saturday morning practice, at 7:30, but it’s over at 9:00, and after that I’m free.”

So that’s why he had texted you at seven in the morning to congratulate you on winning Phantasmagorical Phriday.

“No, I’m not busy. I’d love to do something, just pick from the list I sent you. Surprise me, hm?”

“Will do.”

You were finally on your front welcome mat, and watched his face fall as he seemed to be drawing a blank about how else to prolong your night. But you had an idea.

You didn’t let an alarm or anything else possibly have the chance to interrupt you, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his mouth down to yours. He stumbled forward at you suddenly yanking him off-balance, catching himself with one hand on your front door and the other on your doorframe. Then, he dropped a hand to the small of your back, drawing you in even closer as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

Disconnected just enough to murmur against his lips, you asked, “Do you want to come in?”

“Please?” He replied with a nearly sheepish chuckle.

“So polite,” you quipped.

You gave him one more peck before turning around to unlock your door and drag him in by the arm.

➠ sequel | series masterlist | blog masterlist

[hearts4golbach]

hello can you do fella x reader and they have been dating for a few months and tyler announces them on stream 😈

btw please don’t die i love ur work 🥰😇🙏🏼

His Little Secret.

Hansumfella: Tyler x Fem!Reader.

a/n: I'm not gonna die on you guys oml I PROMISE I'll keep feeding you until nature has its way with me xx

the day Tyler asked you to be his girlfriend was the best day of your life. you two had met through the internet. you started streaming together and eventually hanging out in real life, as well. although your relationship had started out strictly professional, with a couple drinks, fella had admitted his feelings for you that you reciprocated. your talking stage lasted for 3 weeks, and during that time, you two were inseparable.

he took you out frequently, not to mention the way you two streamed together pretty much every night. you kept your talking stage private. only family and close friends knew. you loved how conservative he was since you were as well.

but, the day he asked you to be his girlfriend was much different than the usual, casual dates you went on. it was a beach date. the sun had just started to set whenever he turned to you and asked 'will you be my girlfriend' over a drink and take out. of course, you said yes. the two of you laid in the sand in each others arms.

after that day, you frequently spent the night at his place. you also streamed with him in person now, since you were already there anyway. people had their suspicions, but you always being at his house while he streamed did not help.

you dragged in a chair from the kitchen and sat next to Tyler. he was just about to start his stream. it was your idea to do a truth or drink stream, since he had only ever done a truth or drink hot sauce version. you figured drinking would spice it up a little.

"what's up, guys!" he exclaimed with a smile. the chat was being spammed with greetings to both of you. at this point, they were accustomed to seeing you tagging along for the stream. "if you read the fucking title, you'll know what me and y/n are doing today."

"truth or drink!" you exclaimed.

"just the usual, send a question in with 50 bits, blah blah blah." he peered at the chat then back at you with a smile. he rested his hand on your knee under the table, which was out of the view of the camera. "so, why don't we just get started. i know you guys are creaming your pants with impatience."

he swiftly turned on the text to speech with submissions. the first one came through immediately. "which one is the real skibidi sigma rizzler?"

"me, obviously." you responded immediately.

"you really wasted 50 bits on that?" he tossed up his hands in defeat. "i guess i'm going to have to admit y/n is the real skibidi sigma rizzler." he replied sarcastically. "let's get some actual juicy questions up in this bitch."

the next question interrupted him mid sentence. "favorite position?"

"bruh." he rolled his eyes and glared at me. "i'm gonna have to pass on this one."

you considered your options for a moment, "should i expose myself?" you asked, turning towards Tyler.

"i mean, go for it," he flicked his hand towards the camera, "it's your digital footprint on the line."

"yolo, I guess." you rolled your eyes. "either missionary or reverse cowgirl. next question."

it was hard for Tyler to hide the smirk on his face. you took a peek at the chats to see what they were saying.

'fella DEFINITELY knows something we dont'

'bro knows he's getting it tonight'

'BAHAHAHAHA'

'wtf fellas face 😭😭'

the next request rang from the computer. 'are you guys together or no?'

your heart sank. you looked at fella, but the hesitation made the answer obvious. he looked back at you quizically, and you nodded. you had been dating in secret for 4 months, what could announcing it now hurt?

"yes, yes we are." he grinned, "anyway..."

the chat was filled with people screaming.

'NO WAY HE PULLED'

'WHAAATATTTAATTAR'

'I KNEW IT BRU'

'THATS CRAZY'

'SHES WAY TOO FINE FOR YOU FELLA GTFOO'

'LMAAOO YUH'

'GOOD JOB FELLA'

another question, which wasn't really a question, came through. 'kiss or it isn't real.'

"I don't know about that much.." you trailed off, raising your eyebrow at tyler.

he shrugged at you, "it's okay with me if you wanna, babe."

him calling you babe made your heart flutter. you shrugged back. "alright."

he pulled you in and pecked your lips, causing a light blush to spread across both of your faces.

'OWAH'

'GET A ROOM'

'DAMNNN OKAY SO HES SERIOUS'

the comments made you laugh. "well, know you guys know." you grinned at the camera.

[tinydeskwriter]

LOVE HOLD|⟮little miss maverick⟯

lando norris x wolff reader| wolff reader x f1 grid platonic (mostly)

a/n: there is no face claim, I just can't resist te perfection that is Anya Taylor-Joy(I wanted to save her for a Häkkinen!reader, but couldn't stop myself when I started the dior montage). those are little snippets from her life between the GQ video and Bahrain 23', to give some context. I gave names to y/n mother, sister, stepfather and etc, because I find mad confusing to put a bunch of y/mn, y/s/n, y/bff/n, it gets tiring and confusing especially if it comes one after the other in a social media tag or paragraph, thats the only reason I gave them names. there is a few tennis players in this story, not too crazy, but as it is a character a little bit inspired by break point some of those guys will show up and the netflix show will be mentioned. comment and give it a like if you like, I love to read what you guys have to say and your thoughts. I also gave a name to the series, it is very cliche but I couldn't think of nothing better.

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liked by lilymhe, lewishamilton and 865,678 others

(tagged: patrickmouratoglou; matsbahr; susie_wolff; lucy.abrams; british_airways; adidas; redbull; yonex_tennis; hbsc; hiltonhotels; hermes; charles_leclerc; carlossainz55; pierregasly; landonorris; benshelton; mariasherapova; the_kokk1; carlitosalcarazz; lewishamilton; georgerussell63; carmenmmundt)

y/name.wolff it wasn't easy but we did it! today my dream came true, in winning my twelfth title today, the fourth in a row this calendar year, I became the sixth grand slam champion in history, the fourth woman to do so and the very first brit. it takes a village and i would not have managed it without the amazing team i have behind me supporting me at every step. shout out to my coaches, my therapist, my sponsors and my family.🤍🏆🏆

thank u all for the flowers. i will be seeing a few of you in monza.

(i believe I tagged everyone, but my hands are shaking so much and is hard to see through my happy tears, so, if i forgot to tag you, consider yourself thanked)

view all 23,567 comments

pierregasly congratulations little wolff, never doubted you

↳y/n.wolff thank u 🍐

redbull #1!!!

↳y/name.wolff red bull gives you wings 😘

user1 mother is mothering😍😍

georgerussel63 #goat 🐐

landonorris 🔥🔥🔥

↳landonorris congratulations on yet another win, always knew you would🥇

↳ y/n.wolff thank you lan🤍

↳user4 the heart😍

↳user5 'lan' , oml

user2 girly is so delulu she forgot serenawilliams has like 30 grand slams

↳user3 serenawilliams has 23 titles from grand slams events, which eventually was a career grand slam, but she never managed all in a calendar year which is a true grand slam, y/n.wolff is the sixth tennis player to do so, and if she wins the WTA final in november she will have the super slam

benshelton #goat status🐐proud to see one of the greatest of our generation achieving something not even our heros did. keep going sis, next step is to make this a super slam 🥇

↳ y/n.wolff thank you little bro, you and those powerful serves next

mariasherapova little miss maverick. congrats kid, keep going marveling the world with your talent and breaking records along the way 🐐

↳ y/n.wolff🤍🤍🤍

11th Sep 2022

y/n.wolff added to her story:

Nov 9th 2022

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc & 933,566 others

(tagged: opheliagatz; p.blanchard; cassandra.blanchard; giambattistavalliparis)

y/n.wolff 09·01·2023· the day is here, it only took you guys 20 years of living in sin, 15 years of engagement and raising two beautiful, charming, talented daughters together to finally put a ring on it. i am grateful every single day that in a world with 9 billion people, living in the same city, sharing common friends, you two manage to met outside a little cafe in milano in the summer of 03'(btw, i had the honor of witness this cosmic encounter, though i claim no recollection of the event). père phillippe, thank you for all the years as my bonus father and all the support you always gave me (there is no backing now).

love you two more than words can describe. thank u for trusting me with the role of maid of honour, hope i did a good job.

view all 13,668 comments

landonorris congrats to mamma O and Phil❤️ beautiful cerimony

↳y/n.wolff 🤍

user1 was lando at the wedding???

Jan 10th 2023

y/n.wolff added to her story:

Jan 14th 2023

liked by pierregasly, dior & 933,566 others

(tagged: dior)

y/n.wolff i am happy to be (finally) able to announce that yours truly is now (officially) a dior muse and the new face of diorissimo🤍🤍🤍

view all 33,669 comments

mariagraziachiuri I am so happy to share this journey with someone I have seen grow into the beautiful woman she is today, such an example of timeless beauty and elegance, our true English Rose and the incarnation of the spirit Diorissimo.

↳y/n.wolff grazie mille Maria, thank you so much for the trust

Feb 27th 2023

y/n.wolff after three tournaments back-to-back and a brief pitstop in paris for fashion week, miss éclair wolff and I are heading to bahrain to watch 19 millionaires playboys going vrom vrom in circles for second place😊

view all 23,567 comments

landonorris uncalled for ☹️

↳y/n.wolff as is your tractor 🙂

↳landonorris ☹️

↳y/n.wolff luv u sugarboo🤍

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tag list: @myescapefromthislife | @kapsylia | @biitch-with-wifi

[tangsakura]

Missed Details from Sukuna's Introduction

Did you guys know that there are details we've missed from Sukuna's introduction by Satoru Gojo in chapter 3?

JJK Chapter 3

In this post, I'll go over the few details we've missed because of translation issues or difficulties.

WARNING: Very minor mentions of details beyond season 2 of JJK anime. Please DO NOT INTERACT if you don't want even a tiny bit of spoiler. Also, a bit of a long post ahead.

Missed Detail #1:

Let's start with this panel first.

"Ryomen Sukuna is an imaginary fierce god who has 2 faces and 4 arms."

In this panel, Sukuna was called a 鬼神 (kishin), which in general means a 'fierce god or spirit'. But there are also other meanings beyond this.

鬼神 also refers to gods or spirits/souls of heaven and earth. It is also a Buddhist term that refer to beings with supernatural abilities (e.g. shinigami, rakshasa). 鬼神 can also be pronounced as onigami, which means an invisible (nature) spirit, or a fierce and frightening god or spirit.

So this reflects the belief of people that Sukuna is a fiercely frightening divine being. They might've also believed that he was there even if they couldn't see him, just like how we treat our God(s) in real life (if you're a believer). They are definitely aware of his frightening powers.

It also has another implication behind it. The first kanji, 鬼, means oni. Oni has many translations including demon, evil spirits, trolls and ogres. In addition, during Heian era, the oni creatures were depicted as terrifying monsters that ate people, and there are even literature where oni's were depicted eating people in one mouthful.

Blue Oni, c. 1764. Painting by Soga Shōhaku (1730–1781)

The word 鬼神 is ironic, as well, because of his outward appearance, he can be considered an oni and a divine one at that.

Missed Detail #2:

Below is our last analysis for this post.

"Crowned with the title (name) of Sukuna, we couldn't even eradicate his grave wax that traverse eras as cursed objects."

The title that people gave to this man is 'Sukuna' alone. I don't know why they included 'Ryomen' in the English translation.

JJK Chapter 3 (ENG Translation)

I repeat. The only title they gave this man was 'Sukuna' (宿儺), which means the 'dwelling of exorcism.' 宿 (Suku) means lodging, inn, home, dwellings; while 儺 (Na) means exorcism or the ceremony of driving out evil spirits. What a great name for this guy!

Then what about Ryomen? Where did that come from?

I believe this is the name that they've been calling him for almost his entire life, even before he was called 'King of Curses'. That's right. This is definitely the name - means 'two-faced', btw - that they call him as a kid and became stuck with him until now. Imagine being called 'two-faced' as you grow up. That's most likely Sukuna's life until he was given the title of 'Sukuna'.

His name is ironic in a sense since these people equated him to the (real-life) Ryomen Sukuna who was written in the Nihon Shiki as a vicious force of nature after the imperial family of Japan declared him as such.

So yeah there you have it. Thank you, Gojo, for the wonderful introduction of Sukuna.

I hope this post made your day. Until then.

References:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oni

https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/%E9%AC%BC%E7%A5%9E

https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E9%AC%BC%E7%A5%9E

[ariseur]

hey again 👀 soooo you said i should send another ask if i had an idea and diva you said that to the wrong person. i have too many lmao

im stressing that u should write this at your own time! no rush :)

but yeah im actually writing a longform seph/reader fic where the reader is from a southern/appalachian coded town near gongaga. my idea id love to have your spin on is a scene where sephiroth (someone raised on protein powder and spinach probably) gets to try some real southern comfort food that the reader makes for him :). im talking biscuits, fried chicken, some kind of creamy noodle dish, just all the unhealthy savory goodness

he deserves it 🥺

ty for the last request again btw✨💕

“ spread kisses like honey. ”

sephiroth (ffvii) x reader

┊ ˚➶ notes ｡˚ 🎼

omg this has been sitting in my drafts sooo long!! this was really cute and i loved writing it, it reminded me of lucy gray and coriolanus snow from hg hence why i put the title as a lyric from her ballad 💕 always look forward to your requests!! thank you againnn!!

┊ ˚➶ warnings ｡˚ 🎼

you and seph being sickly sweet towards each other, sephiroth being utterly in love with you in his inner monologue, kind of not canon because there are moments where i mention how sephiroth talks to genesis and angeal despite knowing zack and interacting with zack ( which like clashes with the entire point of cc .. but shhh i wanted domesticity ), intended lowercase, lmk if i missed anything!! 💕

┊ ˚➶ word count ｡˚ 🎼

1088 words, 5905 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“you’ve never had this?” you gasped dramatically, your shocked face only to be met with sephiroth’s stoic one. he hesitantly nodded— was that.. a bad thing? did he somehow offend you in some way? the steam that had emitted from the plates below you set on the

“don’t you like pasta?” you asked, still utterly baffled.

he nodded slowly, “is something wrong?” he didn’t understand the confusion. there were a lot of foods he hasn’t tried, isn’t that normal for everyone? you blinked owlishly, lifting up the fork with the pasta noodles stabbed against the metal, the creamy sauce departing from the food in small, slow drips.

“what have you been eating if you’ve never had something as delicious as this?” you muttered, your lips reverting back into a tight ‘o’ as you blew on the fork— before finally slipping it into your mouth. “i’m shocked.” words muffled as you still chewed on your food, at least covering your mouth while you spoke.

sephiroth chuckled amusedly, “we’ve grown up in deeply contrasting places.” he crossed his arms against his chest, watching as you slurped up the pasta with stars in your eyes— occasionally opening your mouth to let the heat escape, soft steam pouring out from the small gap you’ve left while chewing. “still,” said you, “‘s so good.” he could barely make out your voice from how full your mouth was but he still shook his head as he leaned further back in his chair.

closing his eyes, he tilted his head down while he let the strands of snowy hair fell and covered bits of his face, blocking the bright sun even to the darkness beneath his eyelids. sephiroth didn’t pay much mind to the fact that your loud chewing of garlic bread and slurping of buttered food had come to a halt until he felt a strong aroma slip in from under his nostrils, it was only then did he open his eyes to see you holding the fork to his lips.

you held an expectant gaze and he quirked a brow before ultimately leaning forward while he let his eyes rake over the food. it looked a little messy, the sauce dripping over the place as you had ripped a piece of garlic bread off along with it and placed a chunk on the metal twinges of the utensil. he looked up again at you, waiting as you nodded your head and tried to keep your excitement contained. he blew on the fork a little bit before opening his mouth and letting it settle upon the steel. what could one bite do, he asked himself.

but once he had finally tried it, he could’ve dropped dead right then and there. the combination of the salty and savory flavors was perfect, and the way the bread had soaked some of it up too was incredible. sephiroth closed his eyes, letting his jaw work as he let his taste buds be blessed with what was known as your cooking. he had always seen you working your way through the kitchen, using various pots and pans and oils while you zipped around — and when sephiroth had offered help, you simply put a hand up and looked up at him for a split second, trying to simultaneously get the perfect roast as you smiled at him sweetly. that was enough for him.

despite watching you cook a lot ( and the only times he did get to help, he ended up being ordered by you to stand in the corner or measure occasional ingredients ), he had never actually savored something as good as this. being a first class prevented him from doing any good when it came to dinner time, either the timing being too late and you had already gone to bed or you were too tired and he decided not to bother you and he ate something small.

but this, he thought, this was perfection. when it came to you, sephiroth never let his appreciation go silent as he would always thank you or give you sayings of endearment and encouragement. he didn’t have words for this dish, he had never tried anything like it. so in awe, he merely said, “you’ve truly outdone yourself,” as he handed you back the fork. you didn’t mind the simple compliment. it never sounded generic to you when sephiroth would express his gratitude, even when they were mumbled in passing with dragged feet when he had come home from an exasperatingly tiring job, he always made sure to tell you how much he was grateful for you and what you do when he’s away.

he couldn’t wait until he was back at hq to boast to genesis and angeal about how delectable your cooking was. maybe zack, too — although sepiroth had a feeling that the energetic SOLDIER might just end up begging you for food even more. not that you minded, though. you were always so kind, sephiroth didn’t know how you were always able to do it.

“thanks.” you chimed, your voice ever so warm that it made his heart flutter. sephiroth wasn’t exactly what you’d call — expressive. he always held a smooth, cool tone of voice and occasionally threw a sassy remark towards you or genesis, or even that kid zack fair he introduced you to. but you understood his inflection of which he spoke in, you could tell his emotion even when he had entered a room ( and vice versa ). you were one of the most cherished things in sephiroth’s life and it could not go unnoticed.

with his tongue peeking out from between his bottom lip to gather some of the residual flavor that was left behind, his eyes roamed across the table further to more so further treasure your sacrifices ( of both time and food ).

“what’s that over there?” he lifted a finger, almost perfectly manicured despite using his hands excessively in battle, to point over at a small white dish filled with elbow macaroni and a homemade cheese sauce. you turned your head and grinned, reaching over the wooden dining table to grab it and lower the bowl on its side to reveal the contents. “mac ‘n’ cheese,” you replied, “want some?” your eyes seemed to glimmer with more amusement. sephiroth had now developed a new interest in your food and he couldn’t wait to indulge in it.

with the smile and those eyes of yours, how could he say no to one more bite?

𐙚 taglist ; @snoopicle

𐙚 requests are closed — june tenth, 2024

[wonijinjin]

seventeen members with a sick s/o

author’s note: wrote this because everyone seems to catch the flu going around (including myself), hope this gives you all a bit of comfort:)

synopsis: what the title says

word count: 2.2k | genre: fluff, comfort | pairings: seventeen members x gn! reader | warnings: mentions of illness, throwing up, headaches, sneezing, fevers, coughing, fainting, food, a few curse words

cheol and you had been cuddling on the couch when he noticed how warm you were in his hold and how fatigued you looked. “my love is everything alright? you feel too warm.” you didn’t have the energy in you to reply properly so you whined in response, him not needing it after he felt your cheeks. “you are burning up, let’s get you to bed, love.” he said while wrapping you in a blanket and carrying you in a princess hold back to the bedroom.

- overall he would be very attentive when it comes to your wellbeing, quickly noticing how your energy levels have changed (mans has 12 kids, he can detect these things from miles away, parental instincts)

- you are his top priority; he would be running around to get you medication and everything else you need

- bonus points for babying you and sweet talking because he knows how sensitive you get when not feeling good

hannie had always been a light sleeper, so it wasn’t a surprise when he woke up to you coughing during the night. “angel, are you okay?” he would ask, worried if you chocked on your own saliva in your dreams or if you were sick, which was the case sadly. “do you want me to stay up with you till you fall asleep? you can take cough drops in the morning.” he would offer while soothing you, and you would gladly accept.

- he is known to be playful, but he immediately becomes serious if he sees you feeling unwell

- would want to cuddle with you all day, it gives him an excuse to be lazy and rest aswell (which he needs btw, being so handsome is tiring)

- bonus points for singing a sweet melody to help you fall asleep, his giggles are so cute they would cure you in a heartbeat

joshua got a text from you saying that you were sent home because you fainted at work, so he called you in a rush. “darling what happened? did you not take care of yourself? i need to look after you more since you cannot do it yourself.” after you explained the situation to him he would be joking around a bit to lighten the mood if he knew you were alright. “wait for me, i’m on my way home with your favourite tea.” he said before hanging up, your heart warm due to knowing he was on his way.

- he would be sooo gentle, kind of being afraid of disturbing you in any way since he knew how tired you were

- you can expect all the kisses, smooches in the world from him (he says this will cure your illness faster, but in reality he just wants to kiss you continouosly)

- bonus points for getting you a new plushie since he couldn’t leave his baby without an emotional support toy if he needed to run to the store

jun knew you were sick the moment he saw you drinking a warm cup of tea; you weren’t the biggest fan of it, you preferred coffee. “dear what hurts? is it your throat?” he asked immediately, already on his way to the kitchen to make you some ginger shots which are well known to be full of vitamins. you followed him, mumbling about how you felt achy all over to which he kissed you on the forehead. “don’t worry dear, i will take care of you!”

- he is quite calm on the outside but he is freaking out on the inside for sure, being afraid of messing up something and making you feel worse

- he pulls up the chinese remedies he knows and hopes for the best, honestly a bit lost about what to do, thinks your immune system just needs enough time to recover

- bonus points for not being afraid to kiss you because you really crave physical affection and need him to cuddle with you

hoshi didn’t realise you were feeling under the weather until you actually sneezed on him, hard. “oh my god baby tiger are you okay? are you dying???” he would be shouting in a worried tone, making your ear ring so much you had to shush him to be quiet. he goes out to buy you tissues and nasal spray to help with the congestion and on the way back he would buy snacks which you would appreciate a lot.

- very scared tiger, doesn’t know how to help properly other than suggesting taking vitamins

- calls his mom for help on making soup and cooks a delicious nutritious meal for you thanks to her which he will brag about for years saying how well he took care of you

- bonus points for following your orders very well, he does everything you ask him to

wonwoo knew something was up with you when you were more clingy than usual; climbing into his lap and resting your head on his shoulder while he was gaming, heat radiating off of you. “are you tired sweetheart? you feel a bit clammy, are you coming down with something?” he would ask in a deep concerned tone to which you just nodded into his shoulder. “why don’t we get you under those warm sheets while i make you a tea, hm?” he would scoop you up gently, bringing you to the comfort of your bedsheets.

- one of the best caretakers in seventeen, he is not too suffocating but will be by your side in a heartbeat if you need anything

- would not let you do any chores; his top priority would be keeping you in bed to sleep off the virus you managed to catch

- bonus points for reading to you at night when you can’t fall asleep due to the symptoms and keeping you on his chest to calm you down

while being in his studio you decided to take a nap on the couch which was a warning sign to woozi, because you never took naps during the day, only when feeling unwell or upset. when you woke up his face welcomed you. “let me take you home, you are clearly in no condition to nap on a couch.” he would insist, picking you up and motioning you towards the door. “i will take a break aswell, on the way home we will buy you some medicine, okay?” he would assure you that you are in the best hands, letting sleep overtake you in the car.

- he is not the type to be overbearing and extremely worried, although he knows how you tend to overwork yourself, so he will make sure you don’t overdo things, but won’t forbid anything

- however, when you are asleep and he sees you in pain his heart aches so he would be quietly whispering to whoever is up in the clouds to make you feel better soon, because he can’t bare seeing you be so weak and fragile

- bonus points for tucking you in when you fall asleep and frequently checking up on you while he works

minghao found out you are sick through your friend whom he accidentally bumps into on his way home. “y/n you didn’t you tell me you were sick? stay put i will be there in a few minutes.” he would rush to your apartment, a sad smile taking place on his face when he saw you wrapped up in a blanket and surrounded by tissues on the couch. “ahw, you really got that bug, didn’t you? i know just the right ways to fasten your recovery.”

- he is very calm when he handles the situation, quickly assessing the damage done to your immune system and brainstorming ideas to solve it

- his tea-lover self will surely make you some which will taste really bitter as it is probably some chinese remedy, but you will drink it anyway, because he insists

- bonus points for cleaning up your apartment and making you dinner to have something in you while taking your meds

mingyu woke up in the middle of the night to the shuffling of the bedsheets and you telling him you just threw up. “my poor baby. you must feel horrible. let’s get you into a nice bubble bath, yeah? then while you relax a bit i will bring you a few crackers and start making a delicious soup.” he would say while wrapping you into his arms; no matter how late it was he wanted to help.

- he is basically a chef so you would have all the food you crave, or if you don’t have an appetite he would try to get something really light into your system

- he may be more whiny than you since he is very worried, but he will gladly shut up about it and talk to you about random stuff so it takes your mind off of the sickness

- bonus points for cuddling you every minute, the man is so clingy you could not escape his hold even if you wanted to

when you were watching a movie a coughing fit took over you and dk started patting your back without hesitation. “sunshine, are you sick? wait, let me get you a glass of water, okay? stay here, your new nurse and fantastic boyfriend will take care of you!” he went to the kitchen for the drink, returning with a blanket from your bedroom, draping over your half asleep, trembling form.

- this baby would be so worried he would literally start crying if he saw you get worse despite taking care of you, and would think his efforts were not enough (which is of course a lie, he is doing more than expected)

- would cancel all his practices and any meeting he has so he could take care of you, monitoring your temperature and consulting with you doctor via emails

- bonus points for making you laugh even when you feel like absolute shit with his funny and silly faces and bad jokes

when you woke up in the morning seungkwan was already all over you, asking so many questions all at once you hardly understood any of them. “did you take your vitamins last night as i told you? are you feeling better? did you take your temperature yesterday? we should take it now actually.” he would say while getting you breakfast in bed along with the thermometer.

- he would be handling you like a child and would be caring for you like a mother hen, he is just worried about you to be honest

- best at having all the medicine and vitamins you need, not just in literal meaning, but in food too; he would have so many nutritious fruits and bone broth soup for you to eat, he knows it helps restore your energy

- bonus points for letting you do whatever you want after recovering since he feels guilty about you gettng sick (even though he had nothing to do with it)

vernon stepped into the bedroom and was greeted by darkness and your form laying on the bed, curled up, shivering. “you okay there, babe?” he moved closer to you, moving the covers above you, tucking you in nicely. “do you need me to get you some tea?” he asked, brows knitted together. “you know what, i will get you some anyway.” not even waiting for your reply he disappeared into the kitchen.

- kinda malewife material, he cares about you so much and knows how bad being sick can be so he babies you (which is very rare for him to do tbh)

- a silent lover and his actions talk more than he actualy does during the period of your illness, probably does things like asking mingyu to make you some soup (boy cannot cook to save his life)

- bonus points for making you a relaxing playlist while he makes you a warm bath to loosen your muscles and clear your sinuses because he read that steam can help a lot with congestion and overall stiffness

even though he is the youngest in seventeen dino worries about you a lot, and he wants to check up on you every minute while you are unwell. “hi darling, did you take your medicine for the fever? did you sleep well? no? don’t worry i am heading home in a few minutes, my sweetheart needs me.” he would rush home to you if he sensed you missed him and would be taking care of you for weeks if needed, puffing up your pillows and buying you the most expensive tissues so it won’t hurt your nose.

- so soft when he feels needed, he would spoon feed you the porridge he makes and pat your head in bed until you fall asleep

- he just loves babying his lover, since he has received the baby treatment from his hyungs he would be pretty good at knowing ways to make you feel better quickly; like putting a cool cloth on your head

- bonus points for buying you a whole new closet of warmer clothes since he insists you keep warm after you caught a nasty cold in fall, he does not care about the price if it is about his precious baby

[lsleofthelost]

i’m sorry i was on vacation i was busy being on the beach wine drunk and i still haven’t seen ROR but i saw the spoiler that they mention Chad being in college and people are shocked and im like DUH. did we forget he’s literally a royal kid. even if his grades were shit, which i’m not convinced they were btw… he’s air-headed fs but i just know too many stupid boys with like incredibly challenging majors. anyway, even if they were: a) he’d either go to the main governmental/public university of his country (what are they gonna do? deny His Royal Highness? and in Europe they’re not really seen as badly as in the US from what i gather. they could spin it as he’s a humble humble guy); b) he (and other AKs) probably had a ton of unconditional offers from universities looking to house prolific royals; c) he was pretty good at tourney, best player before Jay showed up iirc; d) boring old corruption… the Royal family donates some books or funds some research or renovates a library or builds a new wing or the dean gets a title and a little something something and magically he has an offer (like i think people don’t realise how wide spread that is); e) Auradon Prep is literally a preparatory academy, like getting people into good colleges is what they do.

all this to say, why are we talking about the fact that he’s in college, rather than speculating on what he’s doing there? my guess is being teasingly bullied by a pretty girl and liking it and also learning about the wonders of cheap alcohol

[amiti-art]

Cyrene, Apollo and Ares (and how it was actually only Cyrene and Apollo and Wikipedia is not always a reliable source)

Some of you might know the myth in which Apollo's lover - Cyrene met Ares and had a son named Diomedes (NOT the same guy as Diomedes from Iliad) with him.

Except... she didn't.

When I was researching Cyrene some time ago I realised that her article on Theoi (great source btw) doesn't mention Ares at all. I didn't pay that much attention to this back then, after all, most of the myths have many versions so I assumed that the one with Ares is just less popular one.

I was more preoccupied with the fact that Idmon who I always thought to be Apollo and Cyrene's son was not actually always listed as theirs and had like 5 different variants of parentage.

Let's start with Cyrene's children and why Wikipedia should not be used as a primary source.

Her Personal Information Section on Wikipedia lists 3 children: Aristaeus, Autuchus and Idmon. Later in the Family section it's said that she also had Diomedes with Ares.

For the life of me I could not find anything about Autuchus in the ancient sources BUT I found that Anthocus (which is kinda similar) was the title of Aristaeus and was sometimes mistaken for another son of the pair.

So likely it is the same mistake.

Aristaeus is also the one who is almost always said to be son of Apollo and Cyrene and both of his parents appear in his myths.

Idmon like I said had many different sets of parents: Apollo and Cyrene, Abas and Cyrene, Apollo and Asteria (NOT the sister of Leto), Apollo and Antianeira, Apollo and Abas (one is bio father, the other is foster father, I think????). He also doesn't have an article on Theoi so reserch on him is going to be a nightmer. 🙃

And now Diomedes

Wikipedia says this

But does not link any source for this story

What's more: there are sources describing Apollo changing Cyrene into a Nymph and they also don't mention Ares AT ALL. They are also written in a way that suggest that changing her into a Nymph was one of the first things Apollo did after meeting her.

This doesn't add up with this Ares thing at all.

So where did the Wikipedia article got this Cyrene-fighting-Ares story from? Well, I decided to look into edits history and this section was actually deleted a few months ago with this comment.

My honest reaction to this information: 😐

And then the section was revived for some reason.

But you know when it was first added? 2 years ago.

When did Rick's book about Greek heroes came out? 8 years ago.

So right now Cyrene's Wikipedia article is misleading and contains information from a RETELLING stated as facts.

The only thing I could find that was linking Cyrene with Ares was this:

and it doesn't even say if this is the same Cyrene. It could be, but we have to remember that in the myths there were like 14 dudes named Abas (and 5 named Idmon while we're at it.)

+this is a very late source compared to all the other Cyrene's myths.

Other source claims that Diomedes' mother was Asterie

I personaly think those are two different Cyrenes and here's why:

• Cyrene (Apollo's lover) when introduced in the myth is usually accompanied either by her parentage or by some other characteristic like "sheparderss" "huntress" "archeress" "lion slayer" and so on. Cyrene from Ares' myth has nothing to her name which makes me think she was just some random women.

• Non of Cyrene's own myths ever mention Ares (or I couldn't find any), while Apollo is mentioned often.

• Apollo's Cyrene was Thessalian and Diomedes (and therefor his mother likely as well) was Thracian

• There is literally nothing I could find that would suggest that Apollo's Cyrene and Cyrene from Ares myth are the same and since there are many characters in the mythology with the same names (again 14 Abas') labeling these two as one is irrational (Diomedes himself shares the name with one of the Iliad's characters).

Anyway, lesson for today: be careful while reading Wikipedia and always check the sources.

This kinda scares me tbh because how many more of those articles treat retellings as actual sources and were added by fans of the said retellings?

I hope somebody will fix this article because wtf

[thatapologisttoyourantis]

ACOSF RANT/Nesta intervention rant!!!

I would just like to point out that Feyre is a POS when it came to that “intervention” to “help” Nesta…

Remember when Feyre said that Nesta had a CHOICE between a death sentence in the mortal lands or incarceration, torment, harassment & forced military training in the HoW…well Feyre lied not a few seconds later by then saying to Nesta

“you’re going even if you have to be tied up & hauled there” - Feyre, Chp 2, Pg 34

So I thought Nesta had a choice?…so what you’re telling me is that Feyre & of course Rhysand had no intentions of letting Nesta choose because they (more so Rhysand) wanted to CONTROL her

“If my sister cannot be CONTROLLED, then why should we have the rights to rule over anyone else” - Feyre, Chp 2, Pg 34

But again I thought Nesta had a choice?…I thought this was about helping her become better, be better?

“Oh so it’s about you saving face—“ Nesta, Chp 2, Pg 34

“It’s about how it reflects upon me, upon Rhys and upon my court when my damned sister spends our money on wine and gambling and does nothing to contribute to this city” Feyre, Chp 2, Pg 34

But you all only have a problem now because of WHERE Nesta is choosing to drink & gamble because of the TYPES OF PEOPLE Nesta is choosing to fuck and because CASSIAN ISN’T ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE, what does Feyre contribute to The Night Court? Can someone please tell me what Feyre’s title of High Lady actually entails her to do? I need specifics…oh that’s right no one can give an actual answer beyond the shit she said & assumed Tamlin wanted from her (which btw is just standard ruling lady of court things), again this isn’t about helping Nesta it’s about their image as Feyre oh so beautifully stated above 👆🏾 it’s about controlling her & trying to hone her into a weapon, it’s about Feyre getting payback for how Nesta spoke/treated her when she was human.

“I won’t be your prisoner—“ - Nesta, Chp 2, Pg 35

Feyre did in fact make Nesta a prisoner…the very same thing she swore blind she hated when Tamlin sealed her in the Spring Court manor & swore she would never be put through again & oh now look at her…doing worse than what Tamlin did & yes I say worse than what Tamlin did because Feyre was in there for all of a few seconds before Mor came in saving her like a prince/ss in shining armour & she the damsel in distress, not to mention Feyre would have been in the manor for what?…a day? & Nesta is in there indefinitely until she has the most physical strength to leave?…she put her sister in a cage, a gold plated gilded cage.

“No. You can go wherever you wish…if you manage to make it down those ten thousand steps” - Feyre, Chp 2, Pg 35

Don’t you just love it when your jailer taunts you knowing physically, mentally/psychologically you’re not in a place to be forcing yourself down 10,000 steps just to have a bit of freedom, oh how endearing Feyre is…SIKE.

I would like to point out that Feyre was sealed in the manor of Spring Court for no more than a few seconds & look at how she reacted but then thinks that Nesta should be grateful for being locked in there for an untold amount of time & furthermore can you imagine being “gifted” your prison as a thank you for saving my mates, son & my own life…I can’t believe the Feysand stans support them.

[nottoonedin]

An ALNST Theory/Hypothesis/Over-analysis/Interpretation of events

AKA: Me slowly descending into madness over an animated web series-

(Btw this is mostly just for fun, don't take it too seriously lol)

(TW: Death, Blood)

Long post warning:

I assume we've all seen the newest posts that Vivinos has put out on their YT community tab (or wherever you get your ALNST updates), and the one that everyone is obviously talking about is the post titled <CURE>

And.. yeah, of course, just goes to show that Round 6 is just around the corner (I am screaming internally) and the attention is going to be focused on Ivan and Till, and how their story will progress (or end, depending on if someone's gonna die, which seems likely, unfortunately).

But the post that really caught my attention.. was this fucking post:

When I first saw it, in my mind I thought ''Haha, how cute and goofy! This is exactly how I saw their dynamic!'' and went on with my day.

But after thinking about it for a while, my brain decided to think up this wonderfully awful thought:

''What if Hyuna (unintentionally) had a hand in what happened to Hyun-woo?''

Now, at first, this sounds fucking crazy. The general consensus (from what I've seen) is that Luka killed Hyun-woo. But I do see some parallels between this post and the incident in Round 5 which might help explain what actually happened, but first:

Why I don't think Luka would have been able to kill Hyun-woo:

Luka is DEFINETELY not known for his muscles or strength, I mean look at him:

He's like a sickly Victorian child, not to mention his asthma, chronic migraines and heart disease. I don't believe Hyun-woo has any health problems (not that I know of anyways), so I feel Luka would have a hard time trying to push Hyun-woo over so he'd fall onto a rock. To put it simply, Hyun-woo could most likely beat Luka in a fight, unless someone interfered in some way...👀

Luka's ''fighting'' tactic:

With the parallels between The Trio doodle and Round 5, I've noticed there's a pattern with how Luka gets rids of his ''opponents'', be it on stage or outside of it (*cough* Hyun-woo *cough cough*).

He initiates the attack, it being mentally or physically depending on his opponent. He's subtle about it however, the only one being aware of his antagonism being the one he's antagonising, preserving his perfect, can-do-no-wrong persona.

2. Obviously, the opponent retaliates. But, of course, Luka expects this, it's what he wants, after all. He knows he'll be seen as the victim by onlookers. How could anyone hurt such a precious, weak, defenseless little guy??🥺🥺He doesn't even bother to fight back at all (may be too weak to).

3. A stronger force, seeing Luka in ''distress'', steps in and takes care of the attacker (the opponent), avenging Luka, who they see as the victim. He isn't the type to do it himself, letting others do his dirty work.

Now, let's apply this to the flashback in the All-In MV..

What may have happened to Hyun-woo:

Luka may have said something to Hyun-woo that deeply distressed/angered him, or perhaps Hyun-woo knew about what Luka did to Hyuna.

2. Angry, Hyun-woo attacks Luka.

(I'd also like to note that in this frame, Luka looks more like he's just had someone pulled off him, rather than he's just attacked and pushed someone over onto a rock.)

3. Hyuna finds Hyun-woo attacking Luka and, naturally seeing Luka as the victim, tries to break them apart (which would have been hard if Hyun-woo was super pissed). There's a struggle, and.. well...

Hyuna accidentally kills Hyun-woo, which doesn't bother Luka. Just means his opponent has been eliminated. As far as he's concerned, Luka wins.

Final Thoughts:

Does this theory leave a lot of questions? 100%. For example, if this theory was true, why would Hyuna be so angry at Luka? Does she later find out about his manipulative nature? How? On the stage perhaps? I find this unlikely, however, since I don't believe Hyuna ever went on stage and escaped beforehand, due to a post Vivinos made a while back:

Can this theory be easily debunked? Oh, ABSOLUTELY (I hope it is debunked in canon, to be honest lol). But it does give ideas for some angsty fanfics, I believe hehehe-

For real though, Alien Stage is all up to interpretation. Some questions may never be answered. It leaves room for different ideas, which is one thing I love about the series. <3

Thank you for reading my batshit little ramble/theory!! Hope ya'll have an awesome day/night!

[head---ache]

New character charts!!!

Edit: Added new info to Lash's section + Added a link to Emmie's section.

They're here!!! The only new info is in the charts themselves btw, the long text under this is the same, except very minor changes. I just thought it would be better than having to go to the old charts to read all of this.

Emmie: She's now officially the one and only Tube Baby of the group!!! I imagine Tails will later use the big fucking tube in his lab, just not for any of the kids in this group (here's three posts about it: First, second, third).

Just to quickly mention it, her full name is Emily, however, everyone in her life just calls her Emmie, because, according to her, 'it goes with her vibe' (first talked about here + in universe explanation here).

She has Black Arms DNA, and although it's uncertain how it affects her, they (Emmie and her dads) know she has green Black Arms blood (shown here) and has access to the hivemind, which as a baby she used to communicate with Shadow (here), but as she grew older she stopped using it, and now finds it harder to access to it.

She also, of course, has Chaos Energy. She can perform Chaos Control (in this one) and turn Super (that second thing they don't know until she's a teenager, shown in this comic). She also has all the abilities Sonic and Shadow share (such as spindash).

Sparks: Like I've said before, Sparks is a Belly Baby, Blaze carried (here's context).

Sparks has fire powers, similar to Blaze's, though they find it a bit harder to control. They get Blaze and Espio's help to learn to use said powers, since they require a lot of concentration. Also, again, like Blaze, they can turn into Burning Sparks (here), but that form is more unstable and drains their energy pretty fast.

I am also taking this space to clarify this about the entire family (including Tulip). Since Blaze is a princess, Amy, Sparks and Tulip do acquire royalty related titles, however, they're very informal and don't hold that much power, since Blaze didn't want them to have any responsability simply because they're related to her. So they're royalty just by name.

Lash: Another Belly Baby, your local surprise baby representation.

Like is said in her chart, her main ability is acrobatics. She also has some sort of super speed but she doesn't rely much on it.

It's not said in her chart but she has both mommy and daddy issues and is often at Aim's house. The first time she stepped into that home and Tangle and Whisper welcomed she immediately felt glued to that family (here).

She also has two younger siblings, Strike and Decay (post introducing them here), and at first she didn't have that much of a relationship with, since they're younger than her and closer to each other, and since Lash spends a lot of time away from home, however, she eventually steps in and tries to be a part of her siblings' lifes as their parents' should've been.

Aim: I finally decided that he's also a Belly Baby, mostly because the timing didn't add up, since him and Emmie are the same age and there's only one Baby Making Tube.

Like it says in their chart, he does archery, which is his main fighting technique, however, during battle they also use their tail to move around faster (otherwise he just keeps it under his cloak) and teams up with Whisper's wisps in very rare occasions.

He does not speak, unlike Whisper who simply speaks quietly. Aim doesn't speak at all, but everyone around him eventually just finds a way to understand him (because I think it's funny). He very usually is the braincell carrier of the group.

Bria: Bria's a Belly Baby as well, it just felt like something Sonia would want.

They don't have any special ability, but they did learn martial arts as a way of self defense, consdering the group of people she often is surrounded by.

Even though Bria's hard of hearing, his biggest passion is music (over being a hero). She plays piano and guitar.

He's also the extrovert of the group. The loudest and friendliest there is. (Should I also add they're Emmie's cousin?)

Tulip: I was a bit more indecisive with him, but in the end I decided to also make him a Belly Baby, because otherwise it felt weird for that to be the one thing he has in common with Emmie. (In-universe explanation here!)

He hasn't shown any special ability yet -he's the youngest of the group though, being only ten years old-, so he isn't allowed to be around the other kids when there's danger, however, he's very sneaky and often gets things to work in his favor anyways. He does have an interest in tarot though, thanks to Amy, and he also shows to have an impressive intuition.

When he's not around Sparks he is often found next to Big, probably complaining to him about something.

Destiny: One and only Code Baby!! She's basically made from the same programming as Nicole, but more advanced and sophisticated.

Being an AI herself, she can hack robots and similar things, which helps during battle. They can also get into anyone's computer if they want to (they rarely do).

She usually takes the leader role very naturally, immediately making a plan on the spot and guiding the rest of the group. However, she's quite shy (even while being an extrovert. This forms a bit of a problem for her, wanting to be around people but being too shy to do it). Her more confident side mainly showing when assuming the role of the leader. She has great friends tho, who encourage to speak up and lead:]

Spades: She's a belly baby just because of the timeline, there simply wasn't a way without changing her age to make it make sense for her to be a Tube Baby -and I like her being 16-. Unfortunately I backed myself into a corner here JSKDJSKFJWKFKS I don't have many details on how she came to be because, guess what!! There's no real way for her to be the way she is the way I want it to happen:]]] So let's just use our imagination and say that it's possible for two amab people to have a kid who's biologically related to both of them because this is a world where magic color changing hedgehogs are a thing so this isn't super crazy, okay? Okay.

Like I said in this post, Spades has trajectory manipulation, so basically she will never miss her target, and can move away whatever is thrown at her, so that's pretty handy:] She also trains with Espio, so she has a lot of his abilities. She doesn't really want to be a ninja but has many of the skills.

She's the mom of the group!!! And the braincell carrier. She is very sweet and caring, but also quiet and calculating. Her strategy is the best, and her stoic appareance makes her look a bit threatening, but she's actually a total sweetheart!!

Also about swimming!! She really likes it because she finds it relaxing. You can't hear anything underwater so she likes to close her eyes and just swim around.

She gets along with everyone in the group, but is usually hanging out with Aim and Lash:)

And that's it for the individual kids!!

Here's some other links of interest:

-1. Character reference sheets for all most of the fankids, including a height chart.

-2. Voice claims!!!

-3. The old charts!!

-4. Ideas for weapons:)

[fiaistired]

I want to figure out how old Elias Bouchard really is. When was he born?

In MAG 49 it’s said he joined the institute in 1991 and became head of the institute in 1996 after being body snatched by Jonah Magnus.

In MAG 192 Rosie says that “he seemed far too young for the role he had apparently found himself in” - referring to the head of the institute position.

How young is too young for a head of an institution position? Here’s a first not *exactly* evidence-based assumption - but let’s say it’s probably being below 40 years old. That is based solely on the experience of attending university, I’d say most institute heads at uni are at minimum 40 (also, not exactly related but all university institute heads have PhD’s). (I don’t want to get into too many details here, since I’m not a 100% sure how the higher education system works in the UK, but in my country at least, one must have at least a Habilitation, which is almost like a second PhD, or be a capital “P” Professor, which is the highest university rank, to become an institute head. To achieve these scientific titles, it usually takes a lot of time, so most people are over 40 when they get the position. Or even 50, when it comes to the Professor rank). 

One can assume then, that “Elias” is below 40-ish while he interviews Rosie. Unfortunately, we don’t know when exactly that happens. It could be anytime between 1996 and 2015. 

Some other information we do know about him is that he’s graduated collage with third class honours and has a PPE degree. According to google, students in the UK typically start university at the age of 18. Also, according to google, Oxford has never had a postgraduate degree course in PPE, so Elias has a bachelor’s degree in PPE (which btw stands for Philosophy, Politics and Economics), meaning he was either 21 or 22 when he finished uni. We do not hear anyone mention him finishing any other courses, so we can assume that’s all that he studied.

Another thing we don’t know is at what age he started working for the Magnus Institute. We do know it happened in 1991. The earliest he could have been recruited was at the age of 21 or 22, straight out of university. Making him 26/27 at the time he “got promoted” to the position of institute head, in 1996. As mentioned previously, at Rosie’s interview, where she found that he looked too young for his position, in between 1996 and 2015 (whenever that interview took place) he would’ve been between 26 and 45 years old (at the youngest) depending on the year the interview took place in. Taking my assumption from before, that during the interview he’d be 40 or lower, I’d assume that the interview probably took place anytime between 1996 and 2010 for the comment of him looking too young in his position to make sense. Of course, it could’ve been a few years after graduating uni when he got recruited, which would further push down the date of the Rosie interview. I think the oldest he could possibly be is in his late thirties during it. So, the eldest he could be in 1996, if that is when the interview took place, would be around 40 years old (which I also don’t think it did take place in 1996 since it would make Rosie work as his assistant for 20 years and I’m not certain that she could remain that oblivious to all the weird stuff going on for that long. But what do I know, maybe she’s got a gift for not noticing. I don’t know for sure).

So, in the year of his body being overtaken by Jonah Magnus, 1996, he’s between the ages of 26 and 40. 

We, the listeners, know him mostly from our time spent with him and the archives crew from 2015 onwards. Based on our established age range, in 2015 he would’ve been anywhere between 45 and 59 years old. Which would mean that last time we hear him speak is in 2018 in which he’s anywhere between 48 and 62 years old. 

I don’t know how old his va, Ben Meredith is exactly. I’m pretty sure he’s a millennial? Either way it doesn’t really matter how old his va is, though all we have to picture him by is his voice only, which at least in my opinion doesn’t really sound like the voice of a 62-year-old, but that is straight up just a subjective opinion. Maybe he’s a particularly young sounding 62-year-old?

Some additional information we supposedly get about “Elias” is that he was working as a filing clerk in 1972, which he says to Jonathan Sims in MAG 29, but that contradicts with the information gathered later by Jon and revealed in MAG 49 where he says that Elias joined the institute in 1991. All this might seem like just the lies of Jonah Magnus, but it presents an interesting point of having a conversation take place in 2016 with the reference to his being an institute employee in 1972. In 2016 he’s between the ages of 46 (which would make him 2 years old in 1972) and 60 (which would make him 16 in 1972), neither of which make sense, thought one would think that if he’s older and Jon doesn’t know how old he is exactly, it wouldn’t be that suspicious for him to have worked at the institute in 1972, though that seems like a stretch. Perhaps Jon just didn’t question or notice how it doesn’t really make sense for him to have worked there in that year, or maybe the writing-story-planning team didn’t put that much thought into this particular interaction/the implications of it, or maybe Elias looks older than he is. 

In conclusion, Elias Bouchard was born between the years of 1956 and 1970.

Also, fun fact I did a poll to see what age Tumblr users thought Elias was and they picked between 40 to 50, with 45 to 55 being a close second, so if anyone voted in that and picked anywhere between 45 and 59, I just want to let you know you’re right.

TLDR: Elias Bouchard is (most likely) anywhere between 45 and 59 at the start of the Magnus Archives.

[jommycham]

Spirit Hunter NG Radio Drama Bonus CD [Ultra Rough Translation]

[Spirit Doctor Yashiki Kazuo's Consultation Room]

An honest attempt at a translation of the bonus drama CD that came with the purchase of NG: Extreme Kaidanchi. Beware of some minor spoilers if you have not played through all the Spirit Hunter games.

Note: Only did this for fun, and I am not fluent in Japanese, so inaccuracies are expected.

Disclaimers:

This bonus CD is an edited version of Yashiki's Consultation Room that was originally broadcasted on the EXP channel. Some questions sent in by viewers have been altered. What occurs in the Consultation Room should be treated as a parallel universe to the main storyline— therefore all comments made in these sessions are NOT canon.

(btw, Yashiki's title here is "Kai Ika" (怪医家)— or literally "Strange Doctor," which is probably where the "Spirit Doctor" came from.)

✄--------------------------------------------

I did my best with my (admittedly) shoddy translation, and cleaned it up a bit to have it sound more coherent. Again, I do not speak or understand much Japanese, so despite my best attempts, portions can be wrong (though most of it should be reasonably correct). I will highlight those unsure sections accordingly. There are also very small parts I've omitted, either due to it being too difficult to understand (for me) or to smooth the flow of the translation. 🙇‍♀️Thank you very much for your understanding and putting up with my impulsive DM brain rot.

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

This CD features Yashiki and Mashita answering the audience's concerns/worries. Yashiki receives these burning questions through occult magazines. This time, however, Yashiki specifically calls Mashita in due to a request from OOPArts, much to Mashita's chagrin.

☕︎ Late for School Reader: This question is basically taken from EXP 4th Season #3 Voice Drama (where it's Yashiki, Moe, and Mashita) regarding the viewer who couldn't get up early.

Yashiki: Moe has answered this before, and I suggest rather than buying a cat, to take supplements, don't accumulate stress, go to bed early, get plenty of sleep, and have yourself plenty of coffee and sugar as soon as you wake up.

Mashita: Well, I guess that's the sort of advice you'd give. At my previous job, I'd take a shower or wash my face with cold water.

Yashiki: Even if someone else wakes me up, I still have to put in majority of the effort through the rest of the process.

➥The answers to this question are a lot more fleshed out in the actual livestream VD, such as the cat thing, the supplements being part of Mashita's answer, and Saya mention for the "someone else."

☕︎ Bug Hater Reader: Also a question taken from the above mentioned Voice Drama about a reader asking about how to handle cleaning the house while bugs are roaming during the summer.

Mashita: You're the type of person who doesn't hesitate to pick things up and put it in your bag. You (the reader) can also try hiring someone or contacting a cleaning company.

[Yashiki is concerned that Mashita also doesn't really like touching gross things and asks if he's okay.]

[Mashita explains that both of them are basically in the same line of work, so it's not like he hesitates either to touch things.]

Yashiki: That's true.

☕︎ Summer vacation is almost over, but my eldest daughter hasn't finished her homework. What should I do, Mr. Yashiki? What did you do with your homework during summer vacation?

Yashiki: The Kujo Family already finished their homework early into summer vacation. How about you, Mashita?

Mashita: Well, it's kind of a hassle, so I tried to finish it early. But I always remember not being able to finish my literature essay/book review until the last moment. It was the only part I didn't fully understand.

*TERROR SOUND EFFECT*

Yashiki: I loved reading books and I don't remember having difficulties with them. Shou doesn't do his in the first place. Moe and Tsukasa seem to be the types who get it done first thing. Suzu seems like she'd get it done unexpectedly early. Eita probably does it early, too. Ai seems the type to get it done and put the rest of her energy into her hobbies.

Mashita: If your parents are willing to help you, it might not be a bad idea to plan your hobbies and leisure activities for the latter half of your summer vacation and finish the homework by then.

Yashiki: And if you don't finish your homework...

*dramatic sound effect*

Yashiki: ... you'll die at dawn. Well, if you can imagine a curse like that/wouldn't be surprising if there was a curse like that.

Mashita: Tch, I wouldn't want that.

➥ The term Mashita uses here is "Dokusho Kanshoubun," and I am not familiar with the specifics of what summer homework consists of, so the closest thing I went with was a book review of sorts.

➥ I got kind of lost on his descriptions, so I honestly wasn't sure who was being described, so the details may be mixed up.

☕︎ I'm waking up in the middle of the night with the need to go to the bathroom. But there are times where I get scared and don't want to go. What should I do in times like these? If you have any tips or advice, please let me know!

Yashiki: Actually, come to think of it...

Mashita: Wait. Just turn on the lights, that's the answer.

Yashiki: What's the hurry, Mashita? I was just trying to...

Mashita: I'm trying to keep you from making an ill-advised comment.

Yashiki: Was it going to be that terrible?

Mashita: No doubt. With this, we're done with the question.

Mashita: Tch, who was the one who chose this question? Maybe they were half-asleep at the time. Well, off to the next one.

➥ I could not tell if Yashiki was asking if his answer was going to be that awful or he was saying "that's terrible (coming from Mashita)." I went with the former to be safe.

☕︎ One afternoon, I was taking the bus to the hospital, and the bus stopped at a bus stop. It was on a main street with only cars and a few pedestrians passing by, making it look quite deserted. The bus driver opened the doors and stared outside. I watched from the back seat as the driver repeatedly, with an impatient tone, asked someone if they were getting on or not. The driver gave up on asking and started driving off. As the bus drove away, I kept looking outside, but didn't see anyone at the bus stop or on the sidewalk of the main street. I wondered who the driver was talking to, or if he had talked to anyone in the first place.

I suddenly remembered this recently— what exactly happened, and how would you interpret it, Mr. Yashiki?

There's a section where Mashita goes into a short explanation in regards to this particular question. I am not sure if he is talking about the reader's question or their reply— but basically either this question has been submitted before (didn't make it into the actual Consultation segment) or it has been replied to, but the reply was not published. Therefore, the editorial department has requested this question be submitted/replied to again.

Yashiki: I remember this question. My original reply was that since it was the driver's actions, it's technically not a paranormal phenomenon.

Mashita: Well, if we can't be sure, we still need to interpret it from that angle (?). What do you think about the situation?

Yashiki: I think it might be someone from the future who came to your rescue, and thanks to them delaying the bus' departure, a major accident was avoided.

Mashita: You're still naive as ever, but worse. No matter who that person was, in the end, you're the one who created that anxiety. You shouldn't willingly go with their plans.

Yashiki: By interpreting the situation in a way that doesn't make me anxious, it allows me to avoid getting swallowed up by fear.

➥ The specific phrase Mashita uses is "お花畑," or "ohanabatake," which means a field of flowers. It seems to be used to describe someone who is carefree or blind.

➥ The answer sort of starts leaning into the more philosophical side towards the end? At least on the basis where my interpretation of "that person" is the imagined time traveler of Yashiki's explanation. If not, I'm terribly sorry.

☕︎ At my previous workplace, there was a tree (?) that always made a ringing noise at night. It was close to a residential area, with an apartment building and a small community center in its parking lot. For some reason, it doesn't bother me on my way to work, and I only hear it on the way home. It also doesn't bother me during early shifts, so I assume the noise only occurs at night. The sound is different every time, ranging from the metallic sound like that of gold or a sandstorm. On bad days the ringing in my ears causes headaches and anemia. I had heard from a friend that the place was haunted/visited by spirits; so I started wondering if it was a paranormal experience.

Yashiki: I answered this question at the time it was originally submitted, but it remains the same. I can't deny the possibility [of it being a paranormal event]. I'm pretty sure the advice given to you was to sing a song. There's also the option of keeping an omamori and listening to your favorite music through earphones. I don't know how effective it is, but as I have said previously— try to avoid feeling anxious as much as possible.

☕︎ I'm an idol who loves the occult, and I love reading about them. I want to consult Mr. Yashiki, as there have been many instances of paranormal sightings in H City. There are also rumors of new sightings circulating on message boards as of late. I'm a bit nervous about investigating it by myself, so can you please help me out? I wonder if the rumors are true or not...

Yashiki: I don't recommend investigating it, because there's a chance you could die.

Mashita: But I guess they can't just leave it be.

Yashiki: This is a difficult question...

Mashita: In any case, I would like to have some more information so I can do some research on this.

Yashiki: I'm sorry, but I'd appreciate it if you could send what you know to the editorial department. I recommend you never investigate matters like these alone.

Afterword

Yashiki: Alright.

Mashita: I think this is enough, about 10 minutes.

Yashiki: I’ll hand the audio recording to Moe later today.

Mashita: I'll leave it to you.

Yashiki: I hope this helps someone with their troubles.

Mashita: Perhaps.

Yashiki: Will you be willing to help out next time?

[Pause]

Mashita: ... Tch. Hm.

Yashiki: Please look after me./Thank you in advance.

➥ The phrase is "yoroshiku tanomu yo," which I've seen can be translated into "please look after —" or just used generally for requesting a favor. I was debating using "I'm counting on you" since it sort of made better sense in this context, but Yashiki ended it with "よ" which is much more casual/polite than "ぜ." I ended up opting for a more... gentler way of phrasing this? I genuinely didn’t know how to write it in a way that conveys how he spoke other than this ( ´_ゝ`).

Spirit Doctor Yashiki's Consultation Room: In addition to our regular consultations, we are also accepting everyday troubles. Please contact us here.

Thank you very much for sticking til the end here. ヾ(´ー`)ﾉ゛ I've been going through some pretty severe rot and this helped to alleviate it somewhat (despite how piss poor my efforts are). It's interesting to see different sides to characters even if it's not entirely canon.

As a lil bonus, I want to show those of you who haven't watched Nezuka Ryo's voice over for the entirety of DM1— Kawabata Yoshiaki's (Mashita's VA) introduction! The gap is... actually really cute in a way???