#layla answers fic questions

[laylajeffany]

hello, me again.

I finished Chaos for the Fly yesterday and I’m still recovering. It was absolutely incredible. I already know watching season 2 of Wednesday will be weird because I’ll be expecting to see all your amazing OCs.

In the sequel, are we going to see more of Wednesday exploring her mimic abilities?

Thank you again for writing such an incredible story!

Thank you so much :3 It is the first time I’ve managed to finish a million word plus story, and I’m so glad I posted this one, otherwise I would have probably stopped writing back in about September of last year and it would have been one of my many abandoned, epic-length WIPs in my Cloud. I’m pretty proud of this story. I learned so much about myself writing (and finishing) it; I’ll forever be grateful I spent a year pouring all of my free time into a silly little fanfic project for what I got out of it.

If you loved OC Dr. Holly Gallor, check out Lovely Thorns for the love story of her and Larissa. There’s an update to that one coming this week! I also have a prompted Emiliana one-shot that will be here coming in the next week as well. 

SPOILERS and a TINY sneak peak for the Chaos sequel, Karma in Glorious Splendor, below the cut ;)

Spoilers: We will absolutely be exploring Wednesday’s Mimic abilities in the sequel. In fact, it’s a point of contention. Within the first 10k or so of Chapter 1 we see they’re not always as simple (or consequence-free) as simply copying someone else’s power as she might’ve thought and anticipated in the first installment. We’re going to dive into more of the Raven lore as well. 

There will also be a more heavy focus on the ‘homespun magic.’ Writing parts of the Frump family history made me fall in love with the idea of witchcraft again - reclaiming what’s been appropriated and sold to a mass market and making it all about intentions and what has meaning to the user…it’s certainly gotten me more in touch with my own sense of spirituality over the last year and I’ve appreciated it. I intend on having at least the same amount of time with Morticia as I did in Chaos. She doesn’t always understand what Wednesday’s experiencing, but just like Wednesday learned about intentions - it’s what you make of something that can change the outcome.

I think just by the nature of how Wednesday is growing, the Wenclair pairing will absolutely be more of a focal point in the sequel. Enid was critical to her journey, but she had to learn a lot of skills and history from others to be on the ride at all. Moving forward, she gets to pick her own path a little bit more, and with roadblocks in every single direction - she will be turning to Enid for what to do about it, rather than so many of the adults around her. 

There will still be heavy themes of Wednesday’s idea of justice differing from what the reality of living in a system and the real world. An era of reconstruction is that - it doesn’t happen overnight, and we’re going to have to see Wednesday mature to make it through the slow-moving wheel of bureaucracy (even in the Outcast world). That ‘gift of time’ that she received for her birthday at the end is as much a curse as it is a blessing.

Her relationship with Larissa Weems has also changed so much. It isn’t the driving force behind any of Wednesday’s motivations in the sequel, and it’s going to take her remembering what they went through to keep stability between them.

As for OCs, Josie/Dr. Zypher will for sure have more of a backseat role in Karma - but Emiliana is going to be going through it, in terms of her Raven abilities and other struggles, even by the first 30k of chapter one that I’ve written so far. I have no intention of creating any more aside from any who are needed for the Werewolf Council.

Speaking of, we’ll be seeing tremendous growth from Enid through Wednesday’s POV as she faces her future and makes peace with her past. So much so, that it might just be a point of angst and contention for the girls as it seems like she’s moving so much farther ahead of Wednesday, who feels traps by a myriad of forces against her will. 

Does this sound enticing? I hope so ;) I’ve enjoyed getting back into it - I’ve got very strict rules about when I’m allowed to work on writing it and I’ve been following them very well as not to let this one take over my life.

SNEAK PEAK (1,300 words) Featuring Morticia, Wednesday in the ether - bumping into Goody Addams Morticia obviously sensed that Wednesday was stewing in thoughts that day as she suggested, “A detaching meditation, to help you focus more on the present and less up here.” She tapped her own head and Wednesday scowled but didn’t disagree. “The midsummer solstice is just a few days away – so I am grateful you are dwelling on things that require extensive thought. However, it is possible the earth isn’t quite balanced enough and ready for you to explore them so deeply without the shift in the cosmos that the season will bring.”

Not sure entirely how much she subscribed to that, Wednesday also recognized that it wasn’t safe to spend so much time in her head, and agreed to a unique meditation with her mother. Morticia tried not to look too eager as she brought Wednesday out to the back porch closest to her study; the evening sun still had plenty of time to bathe her in the brightness that her nature tried to defy.

Morticia tucked a black string of beads over Wednesday’s shoulders, and she lifted a sunflower charm at the middle to examine it. “Holly says that Larissa is like a Sunflower.”

That made her mother give a knowing smile. “Tall, radiant, and always looking towards the sun, the light. I suppose that’s an accurate simile. Sunflowers are an old symbol for our solstice, as you know – though the perennials here won’t be in bloom for us until late July. Still, as we recognize the light of the season, I believe the symbol is appropriate.” She tucked herself beside Wednesday, her hands in her lap, her shoulders back – posture always immaculate. Wednesday tried to mimic her, shaking her head as she even thought about that word. “You spoke a powerful piece during supper, darling. But I know that’s not all that is on your mind. Would you like to release it, before you attempt to clear it?”

Wednesday moved the sunflower around on the string of beads, refusing to let out the heave of a sigh that threatened her. She really didn’t want to discuss physical intimacy with her mother on the back porch of their family home on a warm night in June…or, really – ever, if she could avoid it. There had surely been a few necessary conversations that had been had after her traumatic visions that past year regarding the topic, but that was a little bit different. She knew that Morticia would do her best not to gross her out with personal anecdotes – she’d gotten so much better at figuring out how to talk to her daughter…

“No,” She finally decided, seeing just the faintest twinge of disappointment in her mother’s still-gentle, mostly understanding smile. “I’m grateful you recognize what I need. I’m simply not ready to vocalize it. But – if I want to enjoy the next few days and try not to give into melancholy after the inevitable loss of time with Enid, I do need to let these thoughts go.” She let out the breath, finally, squaring her shoulders a little more to match the Dove beside her. “Teach me how?”

Morticia reached into a prepared basket, pulling out a small bundle of wildflowers. She placed three, five-sided thimbleweed plants in front of her, explaining, “Thimbleweeds are long since said to ward off negative energy. You are going to follow your usual light seeking breath work. Just before you slip into formal meditation to enter the ether, you are going to pluck each petal, and release your thoughts as you do so – three times. After you achieve peace in the ether, bring me your petals. We will steep them overnight, and then pour that negative energy down the drain in the morning.”

Wednesday wanted to merely accept what she’d said – but her always looming desire to be ornery won out as she corrected, “Sure, but – thimbleweed plants don’t have petals, they’re technically sepals.”

At that, her mother let out a throaty laugh that ended with a half a groan and a kiss to the top of Wednesday’s head as she stood up, squeezing her shoulders in a hug. “Release yourself of the burden of overthinking, my darling girl.”

Agreeing, Wednesday began her usual sequence of deep breathing, her eyes closed, doing nothing but counting, holding in air and letting it go. It was nearly ten minutes before she was almost at the point of visualizing her light and entering the ether. With enough pluck, mentally and physically, she tugged each of the sepals off the thimbleweeds, letting them fall into her lap as she thought to herself: release the hesitation of physical intimacy, release the fear of Enid being alone, release the sensation of inadequacy. 

Repeating it as directed, Wednesday disassembled the final plant before picturing a sunflower, searching out the sun, finding herself tumbling pleasantly into a field full of them. 

She stood up, feeling small as she wove through rows, trying to discern meaning from being there – why the universe brought her to such a place alone –

Except as she turned a corner, Wednesday crossed her arms, recognizing she wasn’t alone. 

“I didn’t anticipate running into you outside of Jericho, particularly, in the light end of the ether,” She spoke with a little bit more cockiness than probably necessary. 

Goody Addams looked her up and down with a bit of the same attitude. “I might not have much concept of time here, but even I feel a pull when it is nearly a solstice in your realm.” She ran her fingers over a fuzzy stem. “You shall soon be welcoming back the darkening days after the longest time of sun.”

Giving a dumb nod, Wednesday stared hard, wanting to be combative. She hadn’t sensed Goody in Jericho after putting up her monument, and certainly hadn’t tried seeking her out. It was their first interaction since she’d released the remnants of Quinton’s evil into the nether. Taking her in, she noticed. “You still have the Beanie Baby,” She said with the faintest twitch of her lips up, as Caw the blackbird stuck out of Goody’s apron pocket.

Her ancestor lifted it out, holding it in both hands, like it was as precious and fragile as a newborn baby. “I confess, this seemingly innocuous tchotchke has become meaningful to me,” She said in a confession that Wednesday didn’t anticipate. “I have not been able to access a place like this in what I assume to be hundreds of years. Yet, since our last interaction, since you gave me this children’s toy of comfort – I have found myself able to once again visualize places that have been long cutoff from my former psyche.”

“I suppose that’s encouraging,” Wednesday chided. “I told you it was not as silly as you wanted to think it was. Being comforted by someone or something we love is a very powerful magic. I am sorry that opportunity was taken away from you.”

Goody lifted her shoulders, stroking the yellow-orange beak of the bird. “If I was allowed to give into light without hiding it in the dark, you would not be here, Wednesday Addams.”

“I guess that’s something I share with my mentor, then,” Wednesday muttered, thinking about Imogen and Josie for a moment. She shook her head. “I recognize the privileges I have. But that doesn’t mean my life is easy simply because I’m not at risk of being burned at a literal stake every time I leave the house. Believe me, there are plenty of modern problems we face that I have yet to find solutions for.”

Goody tucked Caw to her chest with one hand, the other resuming the journey of feeling the different sunflower stems. “Yet – that was not what troubled you to bring you here.” Wednesday glared, wondering how she knew that. “Your face may be blank, but I can read you easily. You are troubled by personal demons, not societal ones.”

#layla answers fic questions #chaos for the fly #sneak peak! #I'm so excited but I'm not allowed to work on this today it's against the rules lol #Seriously a big thanks to everyone who's been giving this story all the love it's entirely kind and I very much appreciate it #I'm trying to reach out more I'm just super Wednesday coded and that's not like me haha

[mahalshairyballs]

I want to add and ask something about Layla do you think she would struggle with her sense of blame as well??? Yk?? Realizing that someone you love has been going through so much silent suffering for so long, in front of her without realizing , is an immensly devastating thing. I can't help but see Layla naturally wondering if she'd done something wrong , putting blame on herself to compensate for not having seen it sooner, let alone done something about it , or even feel a little insecure about Marc not feeling comfortable or trusting enough to share with her his DID.

That's a difficult question here anon!

I did think about the answer today. It's one of these questions that I'm still not completely sure about the answer.

Here's what I got so far.

I did think about Layla finding out that Marc didn't just leave her, that he really *disappeared* or wanted to. She did feel some guilt, but she mostly felt more sympathetic towards his situation and wished they could have talked it through with each other instead of all that additional pain they gave each other.

Layla does blame herself somewhat in this, but not to the point of being devastated by it. One main reason being that she did see, throughout their 8-ish years of knowing each other, that Marc had some problems. She saw that he wasn't doing well sometimes - for no apparent reasons related to their lives together-, that he had down times- or even periods of depression-, that he was keen to keep a certain independence (like she was too, so she didn't mind it too much), that he had a strained relationship with his family that he didn't want to expand on, that there were subjects he didn't want to talk about, that he had a hard time talking about 'real things' (emotions, experiences etc), and that he had a tendency to disregard his own physical safety in battles.

She saw all that. She lived with him, and she's observant. But at the end of the day, those behaviors could be due to all sorts of things. She could guess, but it was hard to really know if something was going on with Marc - and what specifically was going on - without more information to go on.

Guys who had a difficult past and - due to toxic masculinity, something else, or both - repressed their feelings and didn't share weren't all that rare, especially in a line of work like mercenary. Layla had her own difficult past.

Had she ever contemplated the extent of Marc's ? No, she didn't. But she knew he had something in his past that still haunted him, just like she did.

I'm sure she did try to know more. But she's not the kind of person to press the issue or pester him about these things. The only thing she could do was being clear with him that she was there for him, that she would help him, whatever Marc came to her with. After that the ball was in his court.

.

Would she feel that he didn't trust her enough to talk to her about these things (DID, his past, etc.) ? I'm not sure. I'd say yes and no here too. She might feel that she never managed to 'break that wall', that they never managed to become as close as she wanted to, but then again Marc never told *anyone* about his DID, not even Steven, his alter! So if Marc had lived all his life without telling Steven they were part of a system, why would she expect that he'd tell her about it? Of course, she didn't learn that detail in the show, but it's possible Steven will tell her pretty early on.

.

Another important element here to not forget is that Marc wasn't one of those emotionless closed-off icewalls with Layla. In an earlier meta, I pointed out that Marc seemed to be secretive with Layla in the show, but that the only things he tried to hide/downplay/lie to her about were related to his traumas. His DID, and even Layla's dad's death are related to his traumas. Layla's dad death is *closely* related to his childhood traumas because it was 1) other people he failed to save 2) someone else he loves who would then hate him if she learned about it (or so he thought) and also, that day was pretty traumatic in itself too.

You could even say that the reason he left her was related to his traumas. Obviously because he couldn't control switches anymore after their mom's shiva. Coming back to her then would definitely have Layla discover he had DID sooner or later. But also protecting her from Khonshu. When did Khonshu start to manipulate Marc by dangling that possibility and why ? I think Marc wanted out of being Khonshu's avatar for awhile, but his desperation for an out was recent. After his mother's shiva, he wasn't able to be Khonshu's avatar anymore (or so he thought) and definitely didn't want to. So being so close to Layla while trying desperately to kick out Khonshu wasn't a good idea in Marc's mind. I think those two events are very linked, and that's something important to remember.

So Marc, I'm pretty sure, told her about everything else in his past, in his life. He told her about Khonshu, he told her about Moon Knight, they knew about the scarab and started looking for it together. She knows he is/was a mercenary. He told her about his strained family relationship, even though he didn't tell her why.

So Marc wasn't secretive about everything. He was actually secretive about very specific things. Which, unfortunately, were big parts of his life. I'm sure Marc did tell her about problems he had, asked for help and even helped her on things that happened throughout the years of their relationship. Was it still difficult for him to do so? Yes. I think he still genuinely tried though.

.

This response actually lets me include something about Marc and Layla's relationship I've been wanting to post for awhile:

Their relationship, all things considered, worked remarkably well to have lasted for so long. And I think I know why.

Layla is like Marc, in all the ways that count. She was able to get him, without having to say anything, more so than anyone else before. They could just understand each other: their drive, their pragmatism, their ideologies, their temperament, their independence, their sense of adventure and morality, with some shared past experiences (and even their humor I would say). It had been easy for them to build that chemistry, and even that team work.

[Couldn't find any of the other scenes I wanted in gifs ;_;]

However, their relationship couldn't grow any further without Marc being truly open with her, on everything. Their relationship, if it hadn't already, would've hit a wall eventually.

.

When Layla said Marc would do 'the lone wolf thing' it meant that Marc had done that before, but he clearly didn't do that all the time. I think with the teamwork they built, with their trust in each other, Marc did the 'lone wolf act' only when he thought there was a high risk for Layla's safety and life. (The lone wolf mention could also reference the times when they went on missions/adventures separately. I think Layla did those as much as Marc did. And some of these 'missions' were actually about letting Steven out for Marc).

.

Would Layla now think that Marc didn't trust her enough to confide in her about his DID ? Maybe? Although she knows he did trust her for a lot of things.

To me, Layla would feel * some* guilt, thinking about what she could've done differently so Marc would've told her - most of us would. But that wouldn't be the primary emotion she would be feeling. I think she'd feel regret. Regrets about how their relationship could've been different, closer, more stable maybe, if she'd known before - without blaming anyone specifically for that.

I think she'd feel deep empathy for the Marc system, and determination. Determination to make it work, determination to not let something like that happen again, and to connect with them in the areas she hadn't connected with Marc before. That's why she would listen eagerly to whatever Steven would tell her about DID - and theirs specifically - while also doing her own research.

.

Would she feel empowered to help them properly though ? Hmmmm initially maybe, but she'll find out that it is a pretty harduous task. She would need her own support eventually.

And what would she think of the

'You husband, he is in agony. More pain than anyone can bare'

Harrow said that to her shortly before reopening her own pain she had to deal with. I don't think she really was able to contemplate what it meant at the time. Would she be reminded of it, think back on it ?

I'm not sure.

If she did, she would feel that anguish about someone she loves so much being in such constant pain.

That doesn't negate what Layla herself went through though, and all of her reactions to Marc in season 1 were still fully justified.

.

So whatever guilt she'd be feeling, Layla is pragmatic and would rather focus on pushing forward and find all the ways in which she can make the Marc system's life, and her life with them, better.

#another long essay response about Layla woooh #this is a big one for Marc x Layla relationship analysis #thanks anon for your great questions #anon answers #moon knight #moon knight fic #moon knight meta #moon knight character analysis #mcu!moonknight #layla el faouly #layla my beloved #layla moon knight #layla el faouly x marc spector #layla/marc #marc spector x layla el faouly #marc/layla #marc spector/Layla el faouly #otp power couple #otp we could've handled it together #marc spector tries his best #marc spector deserves everything #hugging the marc system forever #the gifs weren't the ones I wanted for this post but they're lovely pics of Layla so that's enough

[asahicore]

kiwi and layla - sjy

pairing. jake x fem!reader synopsis. in which you mistake jake’s backpack for your own, making you each go home with the other’s bag. both of you are too curious for your own good, so you quickly find out that you excel in the subject the other is failing - a mutual tutoring agreement ensues, and it turns into much more than what you had expected. genre. high school au, f2l, lots of fluff and some angst too, f2l, shy reader x outgoing jake warnings. food & swearing, mention of parent death and divorce, kms jokes, jake being stupid but also really cute (lmk if i've missed any!) word count. 26.3k a/n. this is part of the unexpected collab !!! go check out the other fics and caelin thank u for hosting <333 hope u guys like this one, it took me a while but i had so so much fun writing it !!! i love my jakey in here he's a little bit confused but he's got the spirit. @zreamy thanks for being the world's awesomest beta reader and a decent friend ig... 2 baddies wouldnt be the same without you... lifeguard wet body sunghoon coming soon guys dont miss it! as always pls remember how important reblogs and feedback is for us writers!!! it's what keeps us going <3 enjoy!!

listen to the playlist!

This was not your backpack. 

In your defense, it looked so similar to yours - scratch that, it was the exact same as yours - that you couldn’t possibly have been able to tell the difference between the two bags until you’d opened one of them. Just a basic black Eastpak that probably a hundred other kids in your school owned with nothing to tell them apart, because you hadn’t had the mind to add a little something to it and make it recognizable. You hadn’t really needed to - your backpack was always on your back, next to your seat or in your locker. There was no way you might lose it or mistake it with another.

Until today, obviously. Instead of having a chill last class before spring break like every other teacher, your psycho math teacher Mr Choi had decided to give you a major test on this otherwise beautiful Friday afternoon. While other students watched a movie or played Kahoot, you were stuck in a cold classroom with algebra questions in front of you. Mr Choi had argued that this would be better than having a test after the holidays and ruining your time off with studying, but a test was a test, and math was math, so you hated the idea anyway. 

To eliminate all cheating possibilities, Mr Choi made his students only take a pencil and eraser with them, leave their bag at the back of the classroom and put their phone in a box he kept on his desk. Plus, with his hawk eyes watching intently, there was no way to sneak answers on a small sheet of paper or even on your palm. 

When the test was over, your brain was so fried and you were so eager to get the hell out of there that you didn’t even notice the two identical black backpacks next to each other, you just grabbed the first one you saw, not even questioning that it might not be yours.

And indeed, yours it was not. From your snooping around, you quickly found out it belonged to one Jake Sim. 

You knew Jake. Although you’d been attending the same school for the past three years, you could probably count the number of times you’d talked on one hand - but you knew him. Or at least, you knew of him. You knew that he was good at STEM subjects and that he was on the soccer team; you knew he was a really sweet guy and was easy to talk to, even for someone shy like you. 

Most importantly, you knew he was friends with Park Sunghoon. This was important because you had liked Park Sunghoon since the moment you’d laid eyes on him - or rather, your whole friend group had. It might’ve sounded extremely odd to others, but you and your friends had a few random people at school you liked to keep tabs on or create backstories for, and Sunghoon, because of his dashing looks that had struck all four of you in your first week of freshman year, was one of your victims. Well, you liked to think of them as characters on a TV show rather than victims, but to each his own. Your other characters included that popular sophomore who already considered herself a celebrity because of her ten thousand followers on TikTok anyway, the French and Spanish teachers you were sure had a thing going on, and that one guy in Yena’s biology class that only showed up every two weeks but always looked stoned (hat guy, Chaewon liked to call him, even you’d never once seen him with a hat on). It was all harmless, really - none of you ever actually went up and talked to them, just discussed them among yourselves.

Perhaps Sunghoon was different, because each of you had had a class with him at some point, so you’d all had at least shared a word with him. You probably hadn’t talked to him more times than you’d talked to Jake, so the information you knew about him was pretty surface-level - he was an ice skater, but everyone knew that, and he was shy like you, which was immediately noticeable. He also had one of the most handsome faces you’d ever seen. But again, everyone who saw him knew that.

You, Yena and Chaewon had debated whether one of you should just go ahead and make a move (Hyewon didn’t participate because she already had a boyfriend, but she was all for approaching the boy). You guessed you could describe what you felt towards Sunghoon as a sort of crush, even if it was one you shared with your friends - you found him cute, and you got nervous when he was around. But you were more the watch-from-afar-and-pine type, so you were satisfied with liking him from a distance. You didn’t think you actually had the guts to strike a conversation with him - that was more Chaewon’s thing.

However, this didn’t mean you weren’t curious about the contents of his best friend’s backpack. Your being shy didn’t mean you weren’t interested in other people’s lives - if anything, you were quite nosy. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but you were just a regular teenage girl, so this was fine, right? After just a few minutes of snooping, you found out Jake Sim wasn’t hiding any big state secrets in his Eastpak, anyway. Just some textbooks, notebooks, and a lot of single sheets of paper. It was pretty messy in there. 

Your idea of him being good at STEM subjects was correct - he kept all of his graded tests in the sleeve pocket of his math notebook, and there was not a single one that had received a note under 95. He even seemed to be doing some extracurricular exercises - there were formulae that were completely unfamiliar to you and that you were sure you hadn’t done in class. You found it slightly insane, but that might have just been because you despised math and wouldn’t understand why someone would want to do more of it than was required of them. 

His English homework was another story. His essays had more red from the teacher’s pen than his own black ink, and from the grades on his reading comprehension tests, you highly doubted he’d actually read any of the assigned books. You weren’t in the same English class but apparently had the same teacher, Ms Park, so you were studying the same thing. You couldn’t help but cringe as you read his answers on a Pride and Prejudice reading test - he seemingly kept mixing the sisters up, assigning actions and character traits to Lydia that clearly belonged to Jane. At least he somewhat got Darcy right, writing that “he’s probably not as bad as he looks,” with no further explanation. 

As you aimlessly flipped through his English notebook, curious about the way he took his notes - or if he even took any - you noticed some scribbles in the margins. Looking closer, some of them were in his handwriting while others were in an unfamiliar one. It looked like some sort of conversation, so you assumed the other writing belonged to his deskmate. You also did this with your friends in classes where the teacher was very strict about no chatting in class.

dude coach said if I fail any of my classes I would be out of the team, you read Jake’s handwriting.

Wait seriously????

yeah and I suck at english so Im scared it might actually happen

You just need to study more bro

bro I DO but this shit is hard

Then find someone to help you

neither of you guys is that good in that subject either tho

Ok ouch but also just find someone else then

bro who

IDK man 

Y/N maybe ? she’s good at English and she’s nice so she might say yes 

there you go about y/n again dude MAYBE you ask HER to teach you some sonnets

Shut up you’re the one who needs help dumbass

whatever isn’t it weird just asking her randomly though like i dont want her to feel like she has to say yes

Lol if she sees your grades she might do it out of pity

fuck u man

You were surprised to see your own name written there - it felt weird knowing that Jake and his friend were talking about you, for some reason. And what if that friend was Sunghoon? You had a hard time believing he not only knew you existed, but thought of you as good at English and nice. You liked to think both of these things were true. 

He was also spot-on about saying you would agree to helping out Jake in those subjects, but what he got wrong was thinking you’d do it out of pity. Clearly, you and Jake were in very similar positions. You didn’t have any sort of club you’d be kicked out of if you failed a class, but it sure as hell wouldn’t look good on your college applications, so you needed to get your math grades up. 

Jake and you both desperately needed something the other person could help with, so you had a feeling he wouldn’t turn down the offer that was brewing in your head.

—

This was not Jake’s backpack.

He noticed it right away - it was much heavier than his own and the straps were tighter around his shoulders than they should be. He looked inside for some clues about who it might belong to, and luckily, the first thing he found was a journal that had Y/N’S DIARY written on the cover page in big, pink letters. 

Unluckily, however, he’d also noticed that you had practically sprinted out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, and indeed, you were already far gone when he tried looking for you around school. He had to get to soccer practice anyway, so he put the issue to the side for the time being.

When he got home, he had to shower then have dinner, so it wasn’t until 8 p.m. that he remembered he had your backpack. He had meant to text you straightaway about it, and he knew it was wrong to look into someone’s belongings, but he couldn’t help himself, especially when his best friend Sunghoon had liked you for ages. Maybe this was an opportunity to find out more about you.

Your mind-blowing grades in English don’t come as much of a surprise to him, and after reading through your most recent essay, he thought you definitely deserved them. Your essay was on a Shakespeare play he had never heard of - you apparently also had Ms Park for English, and he didn’t know she was doing Shakespeare in class, so he wondered for a second if you were actually crazy enough to read another book and study it. As if 300 pages of Jane Austen weren’t enough as it was. 

What shocked him were your math grades. It was like looking into a fucked-up mirror: while you excelled at English, you sucked at math; while he excelled at math, he sucked at English. You were just as close to failing your math class as he was at failing English.

Now that he thought about it, maybe Sunghoon’s idea hadn’t been so dumb - you could help him out, and he had an actual argument as to why you should, rather than just using pity on you.

As he put your stuff back in your bag, he was reminded of something - your diary. For some reason, the pretty floral pattern on the cover made him feel even worse for opening the journal in the first place, but he did it anyway. Either you’d only just picked up the habit of writing in a diary or you had finished your previous one recently, but this one seemed pretty new, as only about ten pages had been filled with your neat handwriting. Judging from the dates at the top of almost every page, you wrote in there everyday, and Jake only felt even worse that you hadn’t been able to write in it that day.

Still, he flicked to the first page and started reading. And he read and read, unable to take his eyes away from your diary. He thought he wouldn’t have cared much and a page would have satisfied his curiosity, but the way you wrote about the people around you and about yourself fascinated him. Basic high school things like friend drama and annoying teachers actually became interesting through your words. You didn’t use particularly complicated sentences or unheard-of words, on the contrary, you used simple language, and that spoke a lot more to Jake than any of the classics he’d attempted to read for class. 

And then, he saw an all too familiar name in an entry dated from just a few days ago. 

I sat next to Sunghoon today. It was during physics and both of our desk partners were absent, so Mrs Kim made me change seats. She always does this, and I used to wonder whether she hated to see an empty seat or to see a student sitting on their own, but whatever the reason, today, I was just happy about it. This isn’t our first time sitting next to each other in class, but I was still nervous, since I wasn’t expecting it. I hope he couldn’t feel the awkwardness practically oozing off of me or the way I very obviously struggled with the exercises (obviously, anything to do with math is not my forte). We shared my textbook because he’d forgotten his, and he showed me his notes when he saw I couldn’t keep up with Mrs Kim as she told us what to write down. We only exchanged a few words but I was satisfied when class was over. It’s odd, because you’d think someone would want to talk to the person they like and get to know them more, but I don’t feel that with Sunghoon. Maybe it’s because we’re both so introverted, and he seems to have just as hard a time as I do starting conversations, so I’ve sort of accepted our silent fate. I’m fine just continuing to steal glances at him from across the cafeteria. 

After that, there were a few more pages of writing up until yesterday's entry, but it was the only mention of Sunghoon. Jake had apparently been wrong to think that a girl’s diary would be full of rantings about her crush and things along the lines of “omg, he looked at me today”. 

But you had very clearly referred to Sunghoon as the person you liked, and Jake wasn’t going to let that go so easily. This was precious information that he held in his hands now, so he had to figure out how to deal with it properly for your sake as well as his friend’s.

Turns out there was more he could help you with than just algebra.

—

Seeing Jake Sim in a setting other than school was slightly odd, if you were being completely honest. 

You had just been about to text him about the backpack mix-up when you’d received a message from the man himself, asking if you could meet up the next day to exchange them. In response, you’d asked where you should meet, thinking he’d offer either his house or yours, or some halfway point between them, but he surprised you by proposing some café in the center of town. They have good hot chocolate there, he’d said, and that had been enough to convince you. 

And also I have something I want to talk to you about. 

Your stomach had turned at this message - what on Earth could Jake Sim need to discuss with you had been your first thought, and then you realized you also had plans you wanted to share with him. So his idea of going to a café was actually good for you, too.

You’d only been waiting for about five minutes when he appeared at the café, red and panting from seemingly sprinting to his destination. 

“Y/N, I’m sooo sorry,” he immediately said when he saw you waiting. “I was planning to be early, but when I got on the bus I realized I literally forgot your bag, so I had to go back but the next bus wasn’t for another twenty minutes so I just ran the whole way here, and now I’m all sweaty, and I’m late, and I’m really sorry.”

He’d rushed through his sentence and was breathing heavily as he looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. He seemed so genuinely sorry for such a small thing that after your surprise faded, you started laughing. It was his turn to be surprised, and he immediately stopped talking at the sound of your soft giggles.

“It’s okay, Jake. I haven’t even been waiting five minutes,” you explained, smiling. “Let’s just go in, yeah?”

Jake’s heart did something weird just then, and the feeling was so unfamiliar and confusing that he decided to promptly ignore it. As if in a daze, he stood still for a couple of seconds until the sound of a bell ringing, the one the café had on its doors to signify the entrance or exit of a customer, snapped him out of it. He followed you into the shop, let you order and pay for you both (“I’m the one who took the wrong bag, it’s the least I can do,” you’d said) and sat across from you at a booth in the back.

You gave each other your respective bags back, then started chatting as you sipped on your hot chocolates (Jake had been right - they really were delicious). He was surprisingly easy to talk to, and whether he sensed you were a reserved person or was just naturally talkative, you liked that he both managed to do most of the talking and ask you loads of questions at once. Usually, you wouldn’t have really cared to listen to someone go on and on about their passion for soccer and the recent game that their team had won, but for some reason, you were hooked on Jake’s every word. The way his eyes widened in excitement as he recounted the winning goal he scored, the way the volume of his voice decreased as he filled you in on the team gossip even though no one was listening to your conversation, the way his grin turned into a proud smirk as he mentioned his coach congratulating him - every single one of his actions had you mesmerized. You’d never seen anyone so expressive in their speech, never seen anyone punctuate every sentence with a movement or a facial expression. It was just fun, listening to him.

Even when he didn’t talk, he stayed expressive. He asked you whether you did anything outside of school, and he listened intently as you told him about the theater group you’re in, humming and nodding and laughing at all the right moments. Usually, you wouldn’t have talked about it for more than thirty seconds, afraid to bore others with unnecessary details, but Jake’s reactions and the questions he asked made you actually feel listened to and like what you were talking about was interesting. So you grew more confident and told him what you loved about acting and about theater, about your own gossip (the arrogant actress who got the lead role and thought she was better than everyone else, that one guy who was clearly flirting with three girls at the same time), and you almost couldn’t believe Jake seemed so entertained by your stories. 

“So, you said your group focused on more classic plays, right? Does that mean you’re good at English Lit?”

With his spoon, Jake scooped some whipped cream into his mouth, hoping he was appearing as nonchalant as he was trying to be. He had to make you think he’d deduced that just now and not because he had been snooping through your backpack just the night prior. 

You, however, could not have cared less how he’d figured it out - you were just grateful he had segued into this topic of school and grades, because you’d been wanting to bring it up yourself but had no idea how.

“Um, yeah, actually, it’s my best subject. Math, on the other hand…”

You chuckled as his eyes widened and he leaned in across the table, pointing his spoon at you as he spoke. “See, that’s interesting, because math is my best subject, but I suck at English Lit.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, trying to sound genuinely surprised even though this piece of information was not at all new to you.

“Yeah,” he said, looking back down at his almost-finished drink with a small smile on his face.

“You know-”

“You know-”

You and Jake had spoken at the same time, and your eyes locked for a second before you started laughing. You gestured at him to go on first.

“I actually need pretty urgent help in English. Coach said he’ll put us out of the team if we fail even just one of our courses, and I’m very close to failing that class.” He took a moment to let out a sigh. “So, if you want, we could help each other out. Me with math, and you with English.” 

His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and he bit his lip as he looked at you expectantly. You thought he looked far too nervous for such a simple request, expression more like a boy who’d just asked his crush to the prom rather than offering mutual help you both desperately needed. You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your lips - you had never known Jake Sim to be so… cute. But he was waiting for an answer, so you pushed the thought out of your head.

“That’s a great idea, actually,” you replied, as if you hadn’t had the exact same idea. You were just relieved you hadn’t even had to bring it up yourself. “I also really can’t afford to fail math. It would look terrible on college applications.”

Jake let out a long, loud exhale. “God, yeah, college, I hadn’t even thought of that. Even more motivation to get better grades now,” he said with a chuckle.

You chuckled along, then cleared your throat and sat up straighter. You watched with amusement as Jake mirrored your actions and even the fake serious frown in your brows. You presented your hand for him to shake, which he did without hesitation.

“So it’s a deal then. We’ll tutor each other until we’ve gotten our grades up.”

“Deal,” he replied. As you both withdrew your hands, he dropped his serious facade and burst into giggles, a sound you hadn’t expected from the boy but somehow fit him well. You watched his face closely for a second, noticing the curl of his lips and the crinkle at the corner of his eyes, before breaking into laughter yourself.

You stayed in the café for another half hour, going over details of where and when you’d meet, of what exactly you needed help with (“Everything,” you’d said, to which Jake had replied “Same”), and just talked some more.

“I’m taking the 53 that way,” Jake said when you exited the café, pointing towards the bus stop.

“Oh, so am I!” you exclaimed.

“Seriously?! What’s your stop?”

And that’s how you and Jake figured out you only lived two bus stops away from each other. 

“That’s so cool! It’ll make it easy to meet up then,” he said, and you hummed in agreement. After a pause, he added: “But if we live so close to each other, how come we didn’t go to the same schools earlier? Aren’t you usually supposed to go to the one in your district?”

“I used to live in another part of town,” you explained. “Then my parents divorced when I was in middle school, and I stayed with my dad because he lived closer to the school I was at, but I moved to my mom’s place for high school.”

“‘Cause she lives closer?”

“Yeah, basically.” There was more to it, but you didn’t think Jake would be particularly interested in your parental issues - although you surprised yourself for even considering telling him. If Jake sensed that you weren’t saying everything, he didn’t push, just swiftly changed the topic as you waited for the bus to come.

When you got home some time later, the first thing you did was open your diary and start writing. It had felt wrong not to write in it even just for a day, so it was a relief to feel the pages between your fingers and the familiar scent of the paper and your perfumed pen. You wrote without thinking too much, simply letting all of your musings out into your diary and freely brushing the tip of your pen across the pages. 

You didn’t ever reread your entries right after writing them, but if you had that day, you might have noticed all you could write about was the boy you’d drank a hot chocolate with.

—

Spring break week passed by far too quickly, and it was on the first Monday back at school that you and Jake met again. He had soccer practice on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays, while you had theater rehearsals on Thursdays and Saturdays, so you’d agreed to meet up every Monday and Wednesday after school. Since his mother worked as the school nurse, she drove him to and from school everyday - so on Monday, you met Jake in front of the nurse’s station, waiting for his mom to wrap things up before she drove you both to their home.

You had been surprised to learn that the kind nurse that never asked too many questions and always let students take a nap if they didn’t feel well was Jake’s mom, but upon reflection, it made sense. Once you knew, it was almost obvious that she had raised him - they shared the same friendliness, the same comforting smile and the same ability to make conversation. The whole ride home, she asked you about yourself and thanked you for agreeing to tutor “our little Jakey,” because “God knows he needs the help.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh when a blush crept on Jake’s face and he looked out the passenger seat window with an embarrassed frown, muttering something like “Thanks a lot, Mom.”

She noticed his reaction and laughed along with you. “I’m just saying, Jakey-poo. It’s good to know to ask for help when you need it,” she cooed, reaching a hand out to ruffle his hair. This only made Jake groan loudly and hide his face in his hands. You didn’t know Jake very well, but this flustered, red-faced side of him was definitely one you liked seeing.

The first thing that greeted you when you reached Jake’s house was a happy welcome home bark.

“You have a dog?!” you exclaimed, unable to reel your excitement in.

“Yeah! This is Layla,” Jake said, giving energetic rubs to the Border Collie that made her whole body shake side-to-side but that she seemed to thoroughly enjoy. 

“Hi, Layla,” you cooed, crouching down to her level to let her sniff you. She decided you were a person worthy of petting her. “She’s so cute!”

“I think she likes you,” Jake said, a grin on his face, as he watched Layla presenting her belly to you and asking for scratches there. “Do you have a dog?”

“We have a Corgi at home. And a cat, too.”

“That must be fun,” Jake chuckled. “Do they get along?”

“Depends. They have a bit of a love-hate relationship.” You looked up at Jake, and it was uncharacteristically quiet as you locked eyes for a couple of seconds. You both looked away at the same time, surprised by the sudden eye contact.

You gave Layla one last rub and lifted yourself up. “Um, should we get started?” 

Jake paused for a second as if he’d forgotten what you were here for in the first place, then started nodding his head quickly. “Right, yeah. Let’s go to my room. Downstairs is just one big room and my mom will probably watch TV or make dinner or something, so it might be distracting…” he explained, lightly scratching the back of his neck. It seemed like he was embarrassed to be bringing you to his room, which you couldn’t help but find endearing.

“Okay, sounds good,” you said with a smile, hoping it’ll reassure him.

You followed him up to his room, ignoring his complaints as you lingered on the framed photos on the wall next to the stairs and giggled at his baby pictures. 

“Do not look at those,” he said with a warning tone that didn’t scare you in the slightest. When you didn’t listen, he grabbed your hand that had been pointing at a photo of baby Jake in the bathtub and forced you to keep walking.

“Why?” you asked, a slight whine to your voice.

“‘Cause it’s embarrassing! I was an ugly baby.”

“What?! You were so cute!”

“Whatever. I’d rather study English than talk about this, and that’s saying something.”

When you looked at Jake, you were surprised to find that he actually seemed upset about this. You weren’t sure what was so wrong with looking at his baby pictures, but the last thing you wanted to do was make him mad, so you stayed quiet and continued your way to his room. Once there, although you were infinitely curious about all the posters, pictures, figurines, trophies, and other small tokens of Jake’s life, you didn’t ask him about any of them, just sat next to him at his desk and opened The Picture of Dorian Grey, the book you had both been studying in Ms Park’s class.

You’d agreed on spending forty-five minutes on English, have a small break, then spend forty-five minutes on Math. It wasn’t a lot, but you both had other homework and things outside of school you needed to do, so you’d decided to start out that way and see if it worked out.

You were glad to see how seriously Jake was taking this - he listened intently to what you said and asked questions when he didn’t understand something. You quickly figured out that what he didn’t like about English Literature was that the answers weren’t as straightforward or as logical as they were in math, and even worse, that multiple answers were possible depending on the reader’s interpretation. 

“It just all feels like a guessing game,” he said, resting the side of his head on one of his palms. “How am I supposed to know what this dude meant? And if it can be analyzed in different ways, how can Ms Park tell me the way I understand it is wrong?”

“It’s all about the way you justify it,” you explained. “You can’t just say whatever. Ms Park will look out for how you use the text to support your answers.” You then went on to pick out a specific part of the book, asking Jake to analyze Dorian’s mindset in that scene. 

“He sounds like he’s going insane,” Jake said flatly when he was done reading, getting a chuckle out of you.

“Exactly. How do you know that?”

“I don’t know, just the words he uses,” Jake replies, shrugging.

“Okay, underline those words,” you instructed gently. Jake sighed, but he complied.

“There.” 

“Good. What can you say about those words?” When Jake just looked at you like a lost puppy, you reformulated your question. “What do they have in common? What type of words are they? Are they common nouns, verbs…”

Jake looked back at the words he’d underlined on the page. “They’re… adjectives?” he said, tone unsure.

“Exactly!”

Jake paused. “So?”

“So now you can say that the author uses many adjectives to convey the gradual loss of sanity of the main character.”

“Oh.”

When you looked at Jake, he wore an expression like the words on the page were finally starting to make sense to him. “That’s the content. You can also look at the structure. See how many punctuation marks there are? Commas, semi-colons, question marks… It’s like he keeps cutting himself off. His thoughts are all over the place.”

Jake nodded slowly. “So, I just need to look out for things like that?”

“Basically, yeah. And the more you practice, the more these things will stand out to you. It actually becomes somewhat repetitive sometimes.”

Jake let out a shaky breath. “That’s actually relieving to hear,” he said with a chuckle.

Thirty minutes passed by like this as you showed Jake ways to make sense of a literary text. When the timer rang, he leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms out wide with a sigh. He put his hands behind his head and let it hang back, and the way your stomach flipped at the sight of his exposed neck and Adam’s apple made you look away immediately. You could barely meet his eyes as he turned his head to look at you, still in that same position, and, with a smirk, asked if you were ready for some snacks. 

You gulped, trying to look as normal as possible. “Uh, yeah, sure!”

Downstairs, Jake presented you with all sorts of snacks - there were so many, you felt like you were in a convenience store. This was worlds away from your ingredient-only household. You opted for some biscuits and a banana while Jake made himself a bowl of cereal. A very distracting ten-minute long argument then ensued about the order of milk and cereal - horrifyingly, Jake poured his milk before his cereal. You thought it was a myth that some people actually did it that way, but Jake very proudly defended his choice. 

“I bet you eat pizza with pineapple on it, too,” you said half-jokingly, only for your joke to punch you right back in the face.

“Duh,” Jake answered.

You could only shake your head in defeat. “Let’s just get back to studying before I murder you.”

“Damn, Y/N,” Jake said, laughing. “That’s harsh.”

“And you’re a freak,” you retorted, a grin blooming on your lips.

“You know, you remind me of my friend Jay,” Jake mused as you walked back up the stairs. “He has so many of these small battles that he just won’t let go of. He got super worked up over an argument about mint chocolate chip ice cream once.”

“Let me guess, you like that ice cream?”

Jake shrugged. “It’s not my favorite, but I’ll have it once in a while.”

“God, Sim, you just get worse and worse.”

You sat back down at his desk and started eating. “I bet you think I’m weird for liking math too, right?”

“That’s the worst offense of them all.” 

Jake’s sudden quietness caught you off guard. When you turned your head to look at him, he was already gazing at you with a smile and a sort of thoughtful glint to his eyes, resting his chin on his palm. It sounded like he was thinking out loud when he spoke next. “Guess we’re perfect opposites of each other. Like two peas in a pod!”

The realization of what he’d said dawned upon him as soon as the words left his mouth. He slowly lifted his head as his eyes widened. “I don’t mean- just, you know, since you’re good at English and I’m good at math, and- you know… I didn’t mean it in a weird way, or anything…”

His eyes kept glancing back and forth between you and his bowl of cereal, as if he was scared of looking directly at you but wanted to check your reaction. 

As a smile grew on your face, you kept your eyes trained on your biscuits so he wouldn’t see your flustered expression. But when you looked at him again, he held your gaze, mouth slightly agape. You didn’t have it in you that he had gotten the idiom completely wrong. “I know, don’t worry.” You chuckled. “We are opposites of each other. You just better be as good at teaching math as I am at teaching English,” you teased.

You watched as a smirk tugged one corner of Jake’s lips up and he raised an eyebrow. “Who said you were good at teaching English?”

You gasped. “You said you understood better now!”

Jake’s smile softened as he giggled. “I’m just teasing. You are a good teacher.”

You sat up straighter at the compliment, a proud smile on your face. “Your turn, Mr Sim. I’m all ears.”

“Right,” he said, mirroring your posture. “Shall we start by going over Mr Choi’s test from last week?” 

Your smile dropped instantly at this. Reluctantly, you fished your graded paper out of your bag. You already knew Mr Choi was a psychopath, but you still didn’t understand where he found the will to grade thirty papers over the weekend. You avoided Jake’s gaze as you handed him your test with a big, red, circled D- at the top.

You cringed as Jake sighed. “At least it’s not an F, right?” he said in what you could tell was an attempt at reassurance but somehow only made you feel worse. He looked over your answers quickly, trying to find what in particular you struggled with. “All right. Let’s start from the beginning, yeah?”

For the next forty-five minutes, Jake went over each test question with you, breaking them down and explaining how to solve them in a way you understood. The words he used were so much clearer than the half-assed explanations you were used to from Mr Choi, and for once, math actually made some sort of sense. Your brain still felt broken after almost an hour of numbers and greek letters, but at least, you felt smarter rather than dumber at the end of it. You had never been more grateful for the sound of a phone alarm than the one signaling tutoring was over. 

“That wasn’t half-bad, right?” Jake asked with a wide grin.

You felt so tired, you could probably pass out right then and there, but Jake looked so proud of himself after you had been able to complete an exercise correctly on your own that you didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth. “Right,” you replied, mirroring his grin. “You’re an okay teacher, I guess.”

He jokingly glared and tutted at you, but you both laughed right after. “I need to walk Layla, so I can walk you home, if you want?” he offered as you started packing your things. His words had an uncertain tone to them, as if he wasn’t sure you’d still want to spend time with him after this - but it only took you a second of thinking to realize you’d rather continue hanging out with him than going home on your own.

“Sure! I need to walk Kiwi too, actually.”

“Your dog’s name is Kiwi?!”

“Yes,” you said, chuckling at his fascinated tone.

“That’s an adorable name.”

“Thanks, I chose it.”

“Oh, then I take it back. Worst name I’ve ever heard for a dog.”

“Hey!” you exclaimed, lightly hitting him on the head with your math notebook, making him raise a hand in self-defense as he laughed.

“Sorry, sorry. Does your cat also have a fruit name?” 

A pause. “Mango,” you mumbled, and he immediately burst into laughter again. You side-eyed him as you zipped up your bag.

“Wow, you have amazing taste in pet names, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you said, laughing along. Then you realized something, and you suddenly stopped laughing, looking up at Jake with wide eyes that made him slightly start to panic. “Oh my God, Jake, are our dogs going to meet?”

“Our dogs are going to meet,” he echoed in a sort of fascinated whisper. You both understood the other - dogs becoming friends was the cutest thing ever.

“Let’s go,” you whispered back excitedly.

When you reached the living room downstairs, you bid Mrs Sim goodbye, then went to the entrance to put your shoes back on. “You two sure get along well,” you heard her say to her son with a suggestive tone. Even though she had dropped the volume of her voice, the door was wide open and there were only a few meters between you, so you’d heard her loud and clear. 

“Geez, Mom,” Jake groaned, seemingly irked by his mom’s insinuation.

“It’s just you’ve never brought a girl home, Jakey-”

“Okay, we’re leaving now! Layla, come!”

You hadn’t even realized how wide you were grinning until Jake saw you tying your shoelaces and grumbled “What are you smiling so hard for.”

“Nothing,” you giggled, and your smile grew as you watched a grin break through his pretend-upset expression.

You sighed contentedly as you stepped outside, letting the crisp early April air hit your face. You tightened your scarf around your neck and buried your hands in your pocket and you and Jake started walking side by side, Layla happily leading the way. The streets were fairly quiet at this time of day, save for the yells of children still playing in their backyards before dinner and a few cars of people coming home late from work.

Only the first five seconds of the walk were silent, until you couldn’t contain yourself anymore. “So, never brought a girl home, huh?” you asked with a teasing smirk.

Jake let out an offended scoff and looked up to the sky as if God could help him out of this one. Sadly, He didn’t, so Jake had to find an answer himself. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

“Why not?”

Pouting, Jake spared you a sideway glance. “Because you’re a girl,” he replied, voice lowered to a mumble.

You chuckled at this. “Very astute observation, Jake.”

“No, I- Ugh,” he groaned before laughing along with you. “I don’t need a girl to know how bad I am with- well, with girls.”

“I can help with that,” you said before you really thought about it. “I mean, I’m not a love expert by any means, but I can maybe give, I don’t know, pointers or something if there’s someone you like-”

“There’s no one I like,” Jake quickly cut in. “Um, not right now, at least.”

“O-okay,” you replied, nodding. “That’s fine.” 

“What about you? Do you like anyone?”

As Jake asked the question, he realized he already knew the answer - you liked Sunghoon. How could he forget?! Half of his plan had been to make you get closer to his friend, but he hadn’t even started thinking about that yet. In his defense, he’d come up with that plan three days ago.

Your answer surprised him. “Um, no, me neither. Not right now, at least,” you said, repeating his words with a smile on your face. You locked eyes for a second before looking away at the same time, chuckling.

“Right,” he said. He knew what he had read in your diary, so maybe you were just too shy to admit you had a crush on his friend of all people.

An unexpected awkwardness settled between the two of you, and you more than anything wanted it to go away. Even though it’d only been a few days since you and Jake had started getting to know each other, you already felt comfortable enough to be yourself around him, and it usually took you weeks before reaching that level with anyone. This hadn’t happened since you met Yena and Hyewon at the beginning of high school - they had been friends since middle school, and so had you and Chaewon, and when the four of you met, you had instant chemistry. But maybe it was slightly too early to start talking about crushes with Jake.

For once, you were the one to break the silence - you asked him whether he knew what he wanted to do after school. Basic question, but you were genuinely curious. 

Looking a little bashful, he confessed his dream had always been to be a math teacher and soccer coach at a middle or high school. You told him he already had the talent for it, and when he blushed at your words, you made sure to tease him for it.  

“I’m not sure yet,” you said when he returned the question. “I know I wanna go to college and continue doing English Lit and theater there, but that’s about it.”

“That’s already good enough,” Jake said with a smile. “Still got time to figure out what comes after, right?”

You naturally mirrored his smile - there was something contagious about Jake’s puppyish grin that made it hard not to smile yourself. “Right.”

The three of you reached your house quickly after that. Your mom still hadn’t come home from work, so Kiwi was even more excited than usual for your arrival home. You and Jake watched fondly as your dogs sniffed each other for a few seconds before starting to run around together. The fact that they got along made you really happy, perhaps unreasonably so, and you started bouncing up and down on the balls of your feet as you watched them play. “Our dogs are friends!” you exclaimed excitedly. 

When you turned to look at Jake, he wasn’t watching the dogs like you had been - he was gazing straight at you, eyes soft with something that made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t look away, and it was only after a few seconds that he seemed to snap out of the sort of daze he was in. He cleared his throat and you finally tore your eyes away from him.

“Let me just- Kiwi! I need to put his leash around him,” you said, speaking quickly to dissipate the weird atmosphere as best as you could. You led Jake down the path you usually took with Kiwi that led to a park in your neighborhood, and you were relieved when normal conversation started again.

Jake insisted on walking you back to your house even though he had left his earlier. He made a whole show of not going until you’d walked inside and closed the door, so you’d rushed to your window to shout his name and wave goodbye at him, which made him laugh.

You turned back to Kiwi when Jake and Layla had turned a corner and you couldn’t watch them anymore. “Are you happy you made a new friend, Kiwi?”

The Corgi barked happily at you in response - probably more at hearing his name than because he understood your question, but still, you liked to think you could communicate with your dog on such a level. You chuckled and took him in your arms. “Me too.”

—

Apparently, you couldn’t even wave to someone in the hallway without being interrogated about it anymore.

“Y/N, did you just say hi to Jake Sim?” Chaewon asked like you’d just insulted her whole family.

It was 10 a.m. on a simple Tuesday morning, the day after Jake and you had studied together for the first time, and you’d just walked past the boy - so of course, you said hi to him. Maybe, your heart started beating slightly faster when you’d noticed him approaching. Maybe, it was nice to be on the receiving end of his friendly grin.

“Yes?” you replied, sentence coming out more like a question.

“Since when do you say hi to Jake Sim?!” 

“Since today, I guess.”

“But why?!” She’d raised her voice so much, you’d gotten strange looks from other students in the hallway. 

“I told you!”

She shook her head slowly at you as if to say, No you didn’t!

You rolled your eyes and sighed. Chaewon and her early onset short-term memory loss. “The backpack thing? And agreeing to tutoring each other? I wrote to the group chat about this!”

“Oh, that! Of course I remember that,” she said, even though you knew she had forgotten about it and remembered it just now. “So, has that started already?”

You reached the classroom for your next class and sat down in your usual seats next to each other, waiting for the teacher to arrive. Busy hallways like these were the perfect place for gossip, because they were loud and nobody paid attention to others’ conversations. “Yeah, yesterday afternoon.”

Chaewon gasped. “And you didn’t tell us?!”

“Will you quiet down? I was going to see and tell you guys today anyway.”

“Okay, so, tell me about it.”

“But-”

“Tell. Me.”

You wouldn’t see Yena and Hyewon until lunch in two hours, and you knew Chaewon didn’t have the patience to wait until then. So you sighed again and obliged, telling her about your afternoon with Jake in every detail you could remember, because she would ask about insignificant things anyway. 

To your surprise, the first thing she said when you were done talking was this: “Y/N, do you like Jake?”

Your mouth opened slightly in shock at the question, but before you could even retort, you started giggling. “No, I don’t,” you said in a way that sounded like you very much did.

“Oh my God! You so do!” Chaewon said, giggling along with you. “You whore, you’ve only talked to him, like, twice,” she joked.

You gasped fake-dramatically and slapped her arm. “Oh please, look at Hyewon and Jaemin, they started dating after a week of talking.”

“Yes, and they’ve been going one year strong, so clearly, you need to ask Jake out and get this over with. You’ll get a boyfriend and a math tutor all-in-one, it’s a perfect deal!”

“Don’t get too carried away, okay? Jake and I are friends. Like you said, we barely know each other right now.”

You meant this - sure, you had had a really good time with Jake both times you saw him, and you were looking forward to your next tutoring session, but you chalked it up to the excitement of making a new friend. Plus, barely last week you felt some sort of way towards his best friend - wouldn’t it be weird to practically transfer your feelings from Sunghoon to Jake?

“Whatever. Yena and Hyewon are gonna freak when I tell them,” Chaewon said excitedly.

You shook your head at your friend but couldn’t keep down the amused grin on your face. “You guys are insane.”

“Oh please, like you’re not the president of our Park Sunghoon fanclub. I can’t believe you’re leaving us for his best friend!”

“Hey, if anything, less competition for you, right?”

Chaewon opened her mouth to say something, but the teacher arrived, starting the lesson before having even put her bag down - Mrs Lee always arrived late but never wasted a second of class when she was in the room. Your friend resorted to sticking her tongue out at you instead, and you chuckled at her childishness as you opened your History notebook. 

—

Jake was a complete, total, utter idiot. His plan had consisted of two things only, and he’d somehow managed to forget one of them, even after talking about it with you, albeit vaguely. It had taken him two weeks and one Park Sunghoon to even remember it.

Between Jake’s soccer practice, Sunghoon’s ice skating practice and Jay’s being away at boarding school, the three friends only had one night every week on which they were all free - Friday night. So, every Friday, they planned some sort of hang out at one of their houses and gamed or watched movies all night.

Kinda like date night, but for bros.

This was one of those bro nights; namely, the one in the second week of you and Jake tutoring each other. The boys had decided to go to the burger joint they like that night and were in the middle of a french fry fight when Sunghoon mentioned your and Jake’s new friendship.

“So, Jake… what’s up with you and Y/N?”

Jake halted in his motions, redirecting to his mouth the fry he was about to throw at Jay. “Nothing’s up with me and Y/N. What makes you say that?”

“Just, you know, you seem like you’ve become actual friends. Talking in the hallways and walking your dogs together and whatnot.”

“Y/N as in Y/N? Sunghoon’s Y/N?” Jay said, halfway through a bite of his cheeseburger.

“She’s not my Y/N-”

“Yes, Y/N as in Y/N, you idiot,” Jake cut in. “And like you said, we’re friends.”

“Is she the girl you posted some BeReals with?” Jay asked, and Jake nodded. “She’s pretty! No wonder Sunghoon likes her so much.”

Sunghoon sighed as he let his head hang low. “God forbid I find a girl cute, because I’ll mention it once, two years ago and you guys make me out to be in love with her.”

“Sunghoon, you act like girls don’t exist, so of course when you not only mention a girl, but describe her as cute, that means you’re in love with her!”

“But I’m not! We were literally having a whole conversation about girls, I happened to see Y/N and her friends from far away, I said she was cute, and now you guys won’t let me live it down. Jay, you weren’t even there!”

“Yeah, but the way Jake told me about the whole thing, it really sounded like you liked her.”

“Why would you trust Jake to relay something like this correctly?!”

Jay paused and tilted his head. “You have a point there.”

“Hey!”

“So you don’t, like… like her, or something?” Sunghoon asked, looking at his friend as he sipped on his Pepsi.

This made Jake stop. Did he like you? Wasn’t the fact that he was considering it sign enough? Surely, if there was nothing there, he would have answered no right away.

But there was no use thinking about it. You liked Sunghoon. And as much as he liked to deny it, Jake knew Sunghoon liked you, too. After two years, there was finally an opportunity for the two of you to get closer - Jake wasn’t about to get in the middle of that. If anything, he should help his friends out. Then, when you and Sunghoon eventually got married, Jake would have the honor of saying it was all thanks to him in his best man’s speech. 

“No, I don’t. Don’t worry, Hoon, I’m not gonna steal your girl away from you.”

“Again, she’s not my girl-”

“Whatever you say. I’ll introduce you guys.”

Even if Sunghoon didn’t think he liked you yet, Jake knew it was just a matter of time - his friend just needed to spend a few hours with you to realize he did. You were pretty, smart, funny, nice, had the sweetest laugh he’d ever heard, got along with dogs, and even though you sometimes had weird opinions, it was always fun, talking to you. It was easy and comfortable. Anyone with taste would fall for you.

Anyone, except for Jake, of course.

—

For the past three weeks, you and Jake had gotten along perfectly, but today, on this bright Tuesday afternoon, you really wanted to strangle him. 

When he’d invited you to come and watch him at soccer practice, you’d been surprised, but happy - usually, you invited people to watch an actual game, not just practice. But you were just glad for the opportunity to spend more time with him. 

Without realizing it, you were giddy with excitement the whole day, counting down the minutes until classes were over and Jake’s practice started. Jake had told you to just head to the bleachers while the players got ready in the locker room, but when you reached said bleachers, someone was already sitting there, looking at something on their phone. You recognized him immediately as Sunghoon. He didn’t notice you right away, so you had time to wipe the surprise off of your face - you hadn’t thought anyone came to watch practice, but Sunghoon was probably here for Jake, just like you. 

“Hey,” you said quietly as you sat down next to him. Even though you were technically still on school property, this was the first time you saw Sunghoon outside of somewhere like a classroom, a hallway or the cafeteria. You weren’t as nervous as you thought you’d be, seeing him unexpectedly like this. 

You chuckled when Sunghoon started at your sudden arrival. “Oh, hey, Y/N,” he said, chuckling too, albeit somewhat awkwardly. “Sorry, didn’t hear you coming.”

“It’s fine,” you said with a smile as you sat down next to him on the bleachers. You didn’t know what sort of distance was appropriate between you two, if you should sit close or far, but you stopped yourself before you could overthink something as trivial as that. Neither of you said anything for a few seconds and you wished practice had started before you got here, so that you’d have something to look at other than an empty field.

You broke the silence before it became too uncomfortable. “So, do you come watch Jake often?”

You’d been fiddling with your hands as you spoke, only turning your head to look at Sunghoon as you awaited his answer. Your eyes didn’t even meet for a fraction of a second before he whipped his head to look at the field, as if unable to look at you and talk at the same time. At least he had a nice side profile for you to look at.

“Um, just on Tuesdays. I have ice skating practice after this, so I come here first, then he comes with me to the rink,” he replied. He glanced at you, lips pressed into a thin line that somewhat resembled a smile and that pushed dimples into his cheeks. You simply hummed in response. 

“What about you, how come you’re here?”

“Jake asked me,” you replied. Sunghoon let out a long “oh” as he nodded, turning his head back towards the field again. You didn’t think you’d ever had such a slow conversation. It was like you and Sunghoon both repeated your words ten times over in your heads before saying them out loud.

“Are you coming to my practice, too?” he asked after another pause.

The question took you aback slightly as you hadn’t even considered it, but it could be fun, seeing Sunghoon practice ice skating. It’d also be fun to hang out with Jake. “If it’s fine with you, then yeah, why not,” you replied, smiling at Sunghoon. He glanced at you again before looking away with a smile, an actual one this time that showed his teeth and made his eyes crinkle.

“Yeah, sure. People usually only come to actual shows, so I like it when someone’s there to watch practice.” Before you could find something to say, the players arrived jogging onto the field, immediately starting their warm-up laps. Some were serious about it and stayed focused as they ran, while others goofed around, running backwards and slapping other players on their butts before sprinting away. Jake, of course, was part of the latter group.

Now that something was actually happening on the field, you and Sunghoon had an excuse not to make conversation anymore. You tried to ignore it, but it was so awkward you wanted to die. You realized now why you were so attracted to people like Jake and Chaewon - without even being aware of it, they brought you out of your shell and made you feel at ease. You wished you could do that on your own, but you were always too scared, so you needed that person who was confident enough showing themselves to you first to make you feel comfortable doing the same. You and Sunghoon, unfortunately, were too similar in that sense to do that for each other. So you just sat there in silence, observing Jake and waving back at him when he caught your gazes.

The ninety minutes of practice didn’t go by in total silence - you asked Sunghoon about some soccer rules you didn’t get, and he shared some anecdotes from his and Jake’s earlier teenage years, including a very entertaining story about a tantrum 9-year-old Jake had thrown when he hadn’t agreed with the red card the referee had given him. You weren’t sure how the topic came up, but at some point, you even shared pictures of your pets. Sunghoon had one of those small crusty white dogs, but you kept your laughter in and cooed over how cute she was. 

But still, most of the time, you were watching Jake. You had never been interested in soccer or any sort of sport that involved balls until now. Somehow, he managed to make flushed cheeks, a heaving chest and hairline beaded with sweat look glorious. In total honesty, you were paying more attention to the player himself than to the sport, to the point that you barely noticed when he scored a goal during their practice match. It was only when Jake started cheering and high-fiving his teammates that you realized what had happened, and you gave him two thumbs up and a wide grin when he looked your and Sunghoon’s way, proudly shouting “Did you see that?!”

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks right there and then. The way your heart swelled as you watched his excited, puppyish grin take over his features was undeniable - you liked Jake. You like liked him. Your gaze continued to follow him as he finished his celebratory lap. If you could’ve seen yourself right then, you’d probably have been embarrassed by your awestruck expression and slightly agape mouth, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Much to your dismay, you realized that Chaewon had seen right through you. You hadn’t wanted to read too much into your feelings, but they had become too obvious to ignore. You hadn’t experienced them yourself since middle school (Choi Soobin had really been a heartbreaker back then), but you’d heard about the telltale signs of a crush too many times not to know about them. It was now clear that the way you felt about Jake and the way you had felt about Sunghoon were worlds apart. Feeling nervous around him and your heart skipping a beat when you made eye contact; wanting to see him smile; laughing at all his jokes, even the bad ones; missing him even though it’d been seconds since you said goodbye, and counting down the days until you saw him again. And, yes, looking at his pictures on social media over and over again. You did all those things, so you knew there was no point in lying to yourself anymore - you liked Jake Sim. 

It didn’t help that he was always kind to you, never making you feel stupid for not understanding something in your tutoring sessions and being patient enough to explain the same thing over and over again. He always paid attention to small things, which never failed to make your heart race, like asking after your aging cat’s condition after you’d told him he had a health check-up over the weekend or stocking up on your favorite snack the week after you’d told him about it. He’d also immediately picked up on your habit of teasing the people you felt comfortable with and you loved how he returned it tenfold. It was as much fun debating with him over nothing and making him shut up with your senseless arguments as it was being rendered speechless when he came up with the perfect retort. 

And of course, there was no denying that Jake was ridiculously attractive. There were times you got so caught up in the way his lips moved as he spoke or the way his fingers looked as he pointed at numbers on the page that your mind completely blanked out and you stopped listening to his words for a few seconds. You didn’t know what to make of his small chuckle and smirk when he noticed your gaze fixated on him, but you knew it wasn’t good for your heart. And let’s not even get started on the fact that sitting so close to him meant you could smell the lingering scent of his cologne every single time.

Even now, with flushed cheeks and hair slicked back with sweat, you want to run onto the field and give him a big smooch on his cheek, telling him you were proud of him for scoring that goal.

But even though you were getting closer and he had offered for you to come watch his practice, you squashed down as best as you could any hope that he might feel the same way about you. Even if he insisted he was bad with girls, Jake was popular at school, and you were sure there were many other girls who had a crush on him - so why would he like you of all people?

Sunghoon’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Every time he scores, he acts like it’s the first time he’s ever done it,” he said, chuckling and shaking his head at his friend’s over-dramatic antics. The coach was trying to get Jake to calm down so that the game could resume.

“He’s so cute,” you said, voice quiet, before you could stop yourself. But as soon as the words were out, you realized what you’d done, and your eyes doubled in size as you turned to look at Sunghoon. He had whipped his head to look at you, too, and his eyes were just as big as yours. Then, he burst into laughter, and you hoped the Earth would suddenly open beneath your feet and swallow you whole. 

When his surprise had subsided, Sunghoon turned to you again, an incredulous but amused glint in his eyes. “Did you just call Jake cute?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, slightly frowning as you avoided Sunghoon’s gaze. “I just meant, you know, it’s cute how excited he got. I didn’t say he was cute,” you mumbled, knowing you were doing a poor job of defending yourself.

“That’s exactly what you said, though. You said, and I quote, He’s so cute.” You glared at Sunghoon. Who knew he would only become talkative once it came to teasing you about Jake? 

His expression softened slightly when he realized you might actually be upset about this, and he turned his attention back towards the field, smile growing when he found his friend. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.”

“There’s nothing to be said anyway.”

“Oh? So you don’t mind if I tell Jake that you have the biggest, fattest crush on- hmph!”

You’d cut Sunghoon off by pressing your palm to his mouth, mustering the most menacing look you could to scare him off. “I do not,” you said firmly as you moved your hand away from him.

“Sure, you don’t,” he replied, chuckling. Clearly, your most menacing look wasn’t so menacing.

“I get why Jake’s so annoying now, it’s because he’s friends with you.”

Sunghoon raised an amused eyebrow at this. “He might be annoying, but he’s also cute, right?”

“Shut up!” you shrieked immediately, but you couldn’t stop the grin forcing its way onto your lips.

“Just saying,” Sunghoon said, and you laughed together. Maybe you should’ve been more worried about Jake’s literal best friend finding out you had a crush on him, but you somehow trusted Sunghoon not to blabber about it. Whether because he was nice or because he wanted to watch you struggle with your feelings, you weren’t sure, but at least you felt your secret was safe with him.

You looked back at the field, and just as your eyes found Jake, you saw him turn his head away. Had you seen him just seconds prior, you might have noticed the crease in his eyebrows as he watched you and Sunghoon laugh together. Sunghoon isn’t that funny, he thought, what could you be laughing so hard about?

He didn’t understand the sudden weight in his heart at the sight of you and his friend getting along so well. This was his whole plan after all - force some proximity between you and Sunghoon so that you could talk and hopefully make your feelings clear to each other after some time. Clearly, it was working. So why was it bothering him so much? 

He had to turn his attention back to the game, so he could only ruminate over it for five seconds, but for the remaining thirty minutes, he could barely focus on anything. Whenever he glanced back at you and Sunghoon, you were both looking at him and not talking to each other, and that somehow bothered him even more. 

He used his time in the lockers to get out of the weird mood he was in - whatever was going on between you and Sunghoon, he didn’t want to ruin it by being grumpy. So when he came back out and found the two of you waiting for him at the bus stop, he put on his best smile. 

Having you around made his usual Tuesday afternoon with Sunghoon more fun - after years of friendship, Sunghoon ignored most of his jokes and could tune the sound of his voice out, but you still laughed at everything he said, and his heart swelled with pride every time he made you laugh.

It was only a ten-minute bus ride from the school to the ice rink so you still had twenty minutes to spare before Sunghoon’s lesson started. As always after soccer practice, Jake was famished, so you stopped by a convenience store and got more snacks than you really needed.

You sat next to Sunghoon and across from Jake at a picnic table in front of the ice rink, watching the boy in front of you with fascination as he gorged himself on banana milk and chocolate snacks.

“God, how long has it been since you last ate?” you asked with genuine concern in your voice. Sunghoon followed your gaze towards Jake, only then noticing his friend’s feral behavior as if this was a normal occurrence for them.

“Like three hours,” Jake answered. “I’m starving. So hungry I could eat Sunghoon.”

When he looked up, you were both peering at him with furrowed eyebrows and bewildered expressions on your faces. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you mean that Sunghoon is a horse?” you asked.

Jake mirrored your confused expressions. “What? No, why would I say that?”

“The saying goes, so hungry I could eat a horse, dumbass,” Sunghoon chimed in.

“Why would I eat a horse?” Jake replied, shaking his head and chuckling at you and Sunghoon like you were the ones who had gotten a basic idiom wrong.

“Why would you eat me?” Sunghoon bit back, sounding almost offended.

“It’s just a saying, dude.”

Half-an-hour and two whole packets of biscuits later, you and Jake sat side-by-side on the benches, watching Sunghoon as he did his warm-ups on the ice. This was your first time seeing a professional ice skater and you were transfixed, to say the least. He was just skating across the rink and rolling his arms and neck to get the muscles moving, but it all seemed so effortless and elegant that you couldn’t help but watch with your mouth slightly open, eyes eager to keep up with Sunghoon’s figure.

You were so mesmerized that you had no idea Jake was practically burning holes into the side of your face. Eyes narrowed and nose scrunched in disgust, he couldn’t believe you were enjoying the show in front of you that much. “He’s not even doing anything special right now, you know,” he said, but it only made him realize that when Sunghoon did start doing cool stuff, you’d like it even more.

Your head barely budged in Jake’s direction as you answered him, and your eyes certainly didn’t leave Sunghoon. “Really? It already looks so cool, though.” Jake scoffed, but that still didn’t get your attention, which made him scoff again. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned like a child whose parent wasn’t paying attention to their drawing. 

“Cooler than me?”

Finally, you look at me, Jake thought, and his frown immediately dissipated into a grin when your eyes met. But judging by the teasing way your lips curled up, he already knew he wasn’t going to like your answer.

“Cooler than you,” you replied before turning your attention back to the rink.

Jake leans back with a pout, opting to glare at his friend instead of you. He tried to put himself in your shoes and figure out what it was about Sunghoon you liked so much that Jake didn’t also have. Devastatingly good looks? Check. Charming smile? Check. Cute dog? Check - Jake more so than Sunghoon. Brains? Okay, both of them lacked this. Good personality? Check - however, you needed months before Sunghoon revealed himself to you, whereas Jake was outgoing and was comfortable even with people he’d just met. 

So why was the bearer of your affection Sunghoon and not Jake?

And why did Jake even care that you liked his friend over him in the first place?

It wasn’t like Jake liked you - he couldn’t like a girl that his best friend liked - so why did this at all matter to him? If anything, the fact that you liked Sunghoon back should’ve been something to rejoice over. It had been, up until now, and Jake couldn’t figure out why. He couldn’t figure out this weird sensation that had plagued him in the soccer field and followed him to the ice rink as he watched you watch Sunghoon with amazement.

Jake was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice when you detached your eyes from Sunghoon, who was talking to his coach, and tilted your head at him. “Jake?” 

The boy only let out a low hum, still too upset to look at you.

An amused grin made your lips quirk up. “Are you pouting because I said Sunghoon was cooler than you?”

Jake scoffed, turning his head away from you. “No.”

A pause. “So you don’t mind if I go on and on about how elegant and beautiful ice skating is, while running after a ball and kicking it is the basis of the stupidest sport in the world?”

Jake glared at you, but it only made you smile more. “It’s not stupid.”

Despite himself, his pretend angry facade broke apart at the sound of your airy giggles. Jake didn’t think his ears had ever been graced with such a pretty sound before - he slapped himself mentally as soon as that thought crossed his mind. 

His heart did jumps and spins more impressive than Sunghoon’s when you reached a hand out to ruffle his hair, shaking your head at his behavior. For once, he was glad that you turned back to Sunghoon so that you wouldn’t see the bright blush spreading all over his face.

For the next hour, Jake put his weird feelings to the side and watched his friend practice his routine for his upcoming competition. Even he had to admit that Sunghoon looked pretty cool doing what he loved.

You told him you found it all the more impressive because you’d never skated before, so it looked unachievable to you, and an idea immediately formed in Jake’s mind. As soon as Sunghoon’s practice was over, he rushed over to his friend and asked if the two of you could join him on the ice. Sunghoon turned to his coach, who simply shrugged.

“I trust you to look after them,” she said. “Just make sure to be out when the hockey team gets here.”

Before you knew it, Jake was helping you tie up your ice skates (the sight of which made you faint-hearted) and both boys helped you onto the ice rink, each holding onto one of your hands as you tried not to freak out at the feeling of your knees being so wobbly. Sunghoon demonstrated how to move around the ice, and soon enough, you’d gotten the hang of it - but you still made sure to keep Jake at an arm’s length so you could grab onto him every time you lost your balance. Jake stayed by your side, smiling fondly at how excited you looked and cheering you on every time you took a step of your own. Sunghoon, on the other hand, seemed to find it funny to watch from afar and point and laugh every time you stumbled.

After some time, Sunghoon announced he was feeling hungry and decided to go eat some snacks, leaving you and Jake alone in the rink. The wink Sunghoon threw your way when Jake wasn’t looking let you know what his true intentions were, and you couldn’t believe Jake’s best friend had just become your wingman.

“Feeling ready to skate around the rink?” Jake asked. His boyish grin was contagious, and you found yourself matching it even though you were still nervous about moving around too much.

“If you help me,” you answered tentatively, looking at him worriedly as you held out your hand for him to take. The softness of his gaze as he smiled down at you made you want to melt into a puddle on the floor.

“Of course,” he said, taking your hand in his warm one. Your fingers intertwined as if out of second nature and you thought you finally understood why people said their hands were meant to hold someone else’s.

Being friends with an ice skater for such a long time meant Jake had acquired some skill, too, which is why he could so easily show you how to turn or pick up speed. Whenever you lost your balance, he was always quick enough to make sure you didn’t actually fall, picking you up before your backside could touch the ice. He found your frightened expression every time you thought you would fall absolutely adorable, but your pout and slight frown whenever he teased you were somehow even cuter.

He only let go of your hand after some ten minutes (neither of you had even begun to question Sunghoon’s whereabouts by then) when he came to stand in front of you, a serious expression on his face.

“I think you’re ready, Y/N,” he declared solemnly.

“Ready for…?” you asked, scared of whatever he had in mind.

He leaned in slightly and the sudden proximity took you aback, but he didn’t seem to realize. A mischievous smirk broke through his handsome features. “A race,” he whispered, then skated to one edge of the rink and motioned for you to follow him. Reluctantly, you did.

“First to the other edge has to…” he thought for a second, gazing at the ceiling. You wanted to be mad at him for proposing a race when you’d literally just learned how to skate, but how could you when he looked so cute and giddy, searching for the loser’s penalty? “Buy the other ice cream!”

Your eyes were probably the image of tenderness as you looked at him. “Deal,” you said, wanting to sound as playful as him but voice coming out soft. Since when had you fallen so hard for him?

You held each other’s gazes for a couple more seconds before both turning in front of you, getting ready for your race. Jake counted down from three, and your skating wasn’t so bad at first - until you got too cocky for your own good, trying to go at a pace you clearly couldn’t handle. Before you knew it, your knees betrayed you and you found yourself tripping over, your butt making a loud thump sound as it came into contact with the ice.

On your way down, you’d shrieked Jake’s name, and he was at your side in the blink of an eye, holding your shoulder and looking at you worriedly. The pain was immediate, and for a few seconds, you couldn’t answer him and reassure him that you were fine.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked to race, God Y/N I’m so stupid I’m so sorry are you okay I didn’t want you to get hurt-”

“Jake,” you squeaked.

“Yeah?”

“I’m okay, calm down,” you said when the pain subsided, managing a smile. “I’ll just have a sore butt tomorrow.” He chuckled at the word ‘butt,’ but you didn’t have it in you to roll his eyes at his childishness.

“Are you sure you’re okay? There’s an infirmary here-”

“I’m sure, Jakey-poo,” you teased, making him lose the concerned expression as he bore an unimpressed one instead.

“I guess you are fine if you can think to call me that. Come on, up!” he said as he stood up, reaching his hands out for you to take. Just as he helped you up, Sunghoon came sprinting and stood at the entrance to the rink.

“Is everything okay? I heard a yell,” he said, slightly out-of-breath with half a biscuit in his mouth. Guess he really was eating this whole time.

You and Jake laughed and shook your head at him, and you reassured him that everything was fine. 

“Good, ‘cause the hockey team’s here and we have to go anyway.”

There was a bus that took Sunghoon directly from the ice rink to his house, but you and Jake had to go back to the school to catch the one you usually took, which meant you had a forty-minute journey in front of you. And yet, Jake’s company made those forty minutes feel like five, and you found yourself disappointed when the bus neared your stop.

“If you want, we can still go walk Kiwi and Layla,” he offered shyly a few minutes before your stop, as if he’d read your mind. 

“I’d love to.” You watched as his small smile bloomed into a wider one.

“I’m glad,” he chuckled, relieved. “I was scared you’d be tired of me after spending the whole afternoon together,” he admitted, looking down at his lap with a bashful expression on his face. It wasn’t often that Jake looked timid like this, but whenever he did, your heart tripled in size.

“I don’t think I could get tired of you.” You were too shy to look him in the eye while you said this, but in your peripheral, you saw his grin get impossibly wider and his eyebrows raise. He bumped your shoulder with his, making the both of you burst into giggles.

You were still smiling long after you’d come home from your walk.

—

Unfortunately for Jake, forcing you and Sunghoon to sit together for ninety minutes hadn’t resulted in the two of you confessing your undying love for the other and getting together - clearly, his plan hadn’t worked very well. But Jake, instead of coming up with another strategy, decided he should just basically do the same thing again and hope it went better this time. 

Bro night had been a tradition for the past three years that the boys only very rarely broke, in cases of illness, filial obligations or important competitions the following day. This wasn’t any one of those cases, but Jake decided bro night must be slightly sacrificed that night - for your and Sunghoon’s sake. Years down the line, he knew you’d thank him.

This was why he tricked you into thinking you had been invited to bro night (you’d heard a lot about it and considered it an honor to be included) when really, he made Jay promise not to show at the cinema so that you and Sunghoon could be alone. The two of them would make up an excuse about not being able to make it on time and show up later at the diner (“If you want to set them up, shouldn’t we also leave them alone after the movie?” Jay had asked Jake over the phone, and Jake had been unable to explain why he didn’t want you to spend the whole night alone with Sunghoon).

“They ditched us,” Sunghoon had said in lieu of a greeting when you found him at the entrance of the cinema. He turned his phone screen towards you, showing you their group chat - Jay had had some sort of meeting at his school that had run late and Jake had to go to the vet suddenly because Layla kept making weird noises.

“Oh no, I hope she’ll be okay,” you said, voice laced with genuine worry.

Sunghoon just sighed. “I’m sure she will.” He knew what his friends were up to - it almost never happened that one of them was unable to make it to bro night, so two at once? They were clearly lying. He would make sure to tell Jake how worried sick you were about his dog’s fake illness later on just so his friend would feel extra guilty.

You had been looking forward to hanging out with Jake and his friends all day, so you were disappointed to know he wouldn’t make it until later. It wasn’t much comfort that the movie they had picked, some recent Marvel release, was one you were not at all interested in, and you couldn’t even obsess over Jake’s presence next to you instead of the movie because he wasn’t there. You’d have to sit with awkward, quiet Sunghoon for God knows how long - at least the cinema wasn’t much of a talking place. 

You declined his kind offer of sharing a big popcorn tub - you didn’t want to risk a cliché reaching-for-popcorn-at-the-same-time moment with Sunghoon, although you’d daydreamed and giggled about it happening with Jake earlier that day. Instead, you sipped grumpily on your Cherry Coke, watching the trailers for upcoming movies and discussing them with Sunghoon. (“I’m so excited for the Barbie movie,” he’d surprised you by saying. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.)

As the lights dimmed, announcing the imminent start of the movie, Sunghoon whispered something that completely changed your mind about Marvel. “It’s so stupid that Jake isn’t here, seriously. He’s been going on and on about going to see this movie since the trailer came out.” Suddenly, you’d never felt the need to pay attention to something more than this. 

Well, in your humble opinion, the film wasn’t anything to write home about. It was a lot of loud action scenes with some funny one-liners that, okay, you chuckled at. And the actors were hot. You could sort of see why Jake would enjoy Marvel movies, although you yourself liked films with more social commentary, such as Mean Girls or Bee Movie. You’d need to make Jake watch Twilight one of these days - you were sure he’d like the soundtrack, if nothing else.

At least, you and Sunghoon have something to talk about during your short walk to the diner. As you enter the restaurant, a familiar voice calling out your name catches you off-guard.

“Chaewon? I thought you didn’t work on Friday nights!” you exclaimed, letting your friend bring you into a hug. You gave her a once-over - she always looked so pretty in her work uniform, white t-shirt dress draping her body perfectly, apron cinching at her waist, and short pigtails under her 50’s style diner hat. If the blush spreading on Sunghoon’s cheeks at her sudden appearance was anything to go by, his thoughts might not have been too far from yours.

She pouted, taking your hands in hers and swaying them between the two of you. “I usually don’t, but Yunjin asked me to trade shifts and she always says yes when I ask her, so I felt bad saying no.” You nodded and she turned to Sunghoon.

“Hi, Sunghoon!”

“H-hi, Chaewon.”

“Where’s Jay and Jake?” she asked, looking behind the two of you. You’d told the group chat about your evening plans and a lot of freaking out had taken place. 

“Should be here any minute,” you sighed, and when she looked at you questioningly, you told her you’d explain later.

She sat you at a four-person booth by the window and brought you drinks (“On the house,” she’d said with a wink, but you weren’t sure this had been allowed by any of her superiors) for you to sip on while you waited for the others. Every time she was free, she came over to your table and gossiped about the customers. You did not miss the way Sunghoon’s face lit up whenever she approached you.

Jake and Jay see you before you see them. Jay, the only one with a driver’s license out of the three, had picked Jake up, and he was parking his car when Jake gasped loudly, making Jay jump. “I’m trying to park, man, can you be calm?”

“What’s she doing here?” Jake exclaimed, completely ignoring his friend.

Jay followed Jake’s gaze, but he wasn’t sure what his friend was going on about. All he saw was you, whom he recognized from pictures only, Sunghoon, and a waitress that seemed overly-friendly. “Who?” he asked.

“Chaewon,” Jake hissed, like her name was a curse. “She’s ruining our plan!”

Jay sighed. “First of all, this is your plan. Second of all, it was ruined from the beginning. And by that, I mean that your plan sucks, Jake.”

Jake clicked his teeth. “Whatever. Let’s just go,” he said, getting out of the car and heading straight for you. He made sure to give Chaewon a pointed look as he sat next to you in the booth, but she just seemed happy that more people had arrived. 

You bumped your knee into his to get his attention. “Hi,” you said with a smile.

He looked at you dumbly for a few seconds before Jay cleared his throat awkwardly. “Hi. This is Jay,” he said, tilting his head towards the boy but not taking his eyes off of you. You and Jay exchanged hey’s before Chaewon took your order, quickly giving it to the kitchen and scanning the room to make sure every table had what they needed, then headed back to your table. 

“Is Layla okay?” you asked Jake, worry making your brows furrow.

“Huh?” The sudden mention of his dog took him aback. Why wouldn’t she be okay?

“Layla?” you repeated, tilting your head. “Is she okay? You said you had to go to the vet.”

His eyes widened as he remembered his lie from earlier, and he started nodding frantically. “Oh yeah, yeah, she’s fine, we panicked over nothing,” he said with a nervous giggle. Jake was the worst liar Jay and Sunghoon had ever seen, but you were none the wiser.

“What about you, Jay? How was your school thing?” Sunghoon asked, turning to his friend with a glare and making him choke on his Coke.

“Oh, that was fine too, I guess,” Jay mumbled.

As expected, Jake and Chaewon were experts at leading the conversation, and Jay himself was pretty talkative. They all bounced off of each other naturally, and even Sunghoon knew how to throw in witty remarks now and there. You also participated, but you were more than happy just listening to them and laughing along. You tried not to think too much about how your knee would bump into Jake’s once in a while, or how he seemed to look at you every time he made a joke.

At some point, Chaewon had rushed over to your table, looking right at you with wide eyes and beaming. “Oh my God Oh my God Oh my God, Y/N, hat guy is here!” 

You instantly mirrored her expression. “Where where where?” you asked, lifting your body up to scan around the restaurant.

“Over there in the corner, but be discreet!”

You were not at all discreet as your eyes found said hat guy, noting with satisfaction that he was characteristically hatless, and you burst into laughter. “I can’t believe he’s here!”

“Right? Probably has the munchies or something,” Chaewon said, laughing along.

You only noticed then the perplexed looks all three boys were sending your way. “Who the heck is hat guy?” Jake asked, which only made you and Chaewon laugh harder.

“You wouldn’t get it,” she replied airily, waving Jake off as she made her way to a customer who had called for her. 

The boys turned to you and you shrunk in your seat at their attention. “Just a guy the girls and I find funny,” you explained, shrugging and glancing quickly at Sunghoon. If only he knew about all the times you and the girls had gossiped about him, even though he’d done nothing of importance.

When her shift was over, the first thing Chaewon did was take off her apron, then dragged you to the bathroom, where she drilled you for details about your cinema “date” with Sunghoon. 

“It was not a date, it just ended up being the two of us because the others couldn’t make it,” you insisted, but she wasn’t having it. “There’s nothing to say anyway. We got there, talked a bit, watched the movie, walked here, and that’s it.”

Chaewon sighed, shaking her head as she reapplied her lip gloss. A small smile made its way onto your lips. “I think he’s into someone else anyway.” 

You noticed how her hand faltered for a split second. “Oh yeah? Who?” she asked, trying to appear nonchalant, but you knew your friend too well. 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” 

Unbeknownst to either of you, the discussion between the boys back at the table was not too different from yours.

“Bro, I’m literally going to kill you,” Sunghoon whisper-yelled even though you were way out of earshot already. “Do you know how awkward that was?”

“Just so you know, I had nothing to do with this,” Jay said. “I told him that putting two socially constipated idiots like you wouldn’t end well, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Y/N’s not an idiot!” Jake immediately reacted.

“And I am?!” Sunghoon retorted.

Jay just rolled his eyes.

“You are, because this is the second time you’re alone together with the girl you like and you can barely make conversation with her.”

“For the last time, I don’t like her, I just called her cute once in freshman year-”

“Same thing!”

“Jake, I don’t know how many times I can tell you the same thing before you get it. I’ve been around Y/N enough to know I don’t like her like that, okay? We’ve had two classes where we sat together for a whole semester, and we’ve worked with other people in group projects. Not to mention, you’ve made me sit through one of your practices with her. She’s nice. She sends me the homework when I miss class. She even laughs at my jokes sometimes. And her dog is super cute. I’m sure we’d be better friends if we both didn’t have crippling shyness, but I don’t like her like that. I just don’t.”

“But how?!”

“What do you mean how? This sorta thing doesn’t have any sort of reasonable answer, you just do or you don’t. I don’t. Clearly, you do.”

Jake heard the last part of Sunghoon’s words, and promptly decided to ignore them. He had to understand this first - he’d figure out his feelings later. “This whole time, I thought you were just downplaying your feelings, ‘cause you’re an awkward asshole who doesn’t do emotions,” he said, eyes tightly shut and holding his head, the confusion making his brain hurt.

“Okay, ouch. But no, I wasn’t. I really don’t know what got into your head.”

“I know what got into his head,” Jay said. Both of his friends looked at him questioningly, so he went on. “When Sunghoon mentioned Y/N, you probably thought she was super cute too, Jake. But because of bro code and whatnot, you didn’t wanna show any interest. And then as you saw her around more, you probably liked her more, but you thought Sunghoon liked her, so you sort of gave him your crush on her instead of dealing with it. You lived vicariously through him, basically. Except you’re an idiot because he doesn’t even like her like that, so you could’ve shot your shot a long time ago already. I don’t know why you didn’t just listen to him, to be honest,” Jay finished, shrugging.

“You also thought he liked her!” Jake retorted.

“That’s besides the point. The point is that you’re stupid.”

“But- but, what about all those times you talked about her? I didn’t make those up!” 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “The most I ever said about her was something like, Y/N and I both forgot our textbook today, or Y/N brought cookies for the class because it’s her birthday. You were always the one to notice her everywhere and go, There’s your crush, or something.”

Jake sighed, defeated. He could admit Sunghoon was right about something, and he was wrong - but he hated that Jay was also right. Had he really managed to bury his feelings for you all these years just for what he thought was Sunghoon’s sake? Sure, he was a loyal friend, but that felt a little much.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, recoiling from his friends’ expectant gazes and taking a sad bite of his cheeseburger. “It’s not like she likes me back, or anything.” 

He watched in confusion as Sunghoon let out a loud groan, screwing his eyes shut and taking his head in his hands as if it hurt. “This is so frustrating, I’m going to kill myself.”

Jake turned to Jay for some sort of explanation to their friend’s sudden suicidal thoughts, but Jay just looked back at Jake with disgust. “When did you become so dumb? I swear you didn’t use to be like this,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment.

Jake’s eyes flickered between his two friends in utter dismay. “What?”

“Jake,” Jay started. “Do you really, honestly, genuinely think Y/N doesn’t like you?”

The boy leaned back in his seat with a pout. “Yeah,” he mumbled.

Sunghoon’s head whipped up at this. Jake gulped at the intense glare his friend fixed him with - he’d never looked so angry with him, and it made Jake wonder what on Earth he could have said or done that made Sunghoon so upset. “Why?” he asked simply, but the frustration was evident in his voice.

Your diary popped up in Jake’s head. What he had read was clear. Of course, the entry dated from over a month ago now, but why would your feelings have changed since then? Jake sighs deeply, getting ready to reveal to his friends what he’d seen, but then he sees you and Chaewon emerging from the bathroom. “They’re coming back,” he mumbled.

It was Sunghoon and Jay’s turn to sigh. “Just pay attention to her, Jake, okay?” Jay instructed, giving his friend an intent look.

“I already do,” Jake replied, frowning.

“No, really pay attention to her. Then use your pea-sized brain for once in your life, and maybe you’ll realize something.”

A strongly-worded reply was on the tip of Jake’s tongue, but all thoughts of violence and murdering his friend were replaced by images of rainbows and pretty flowers when you smiled at him. He felt like the biggest of idiots for liking you so much and only realizing it now.

“Hi,” he said dumbly as you found your seat next to him again, then stole a french fry from you even though he had many left himself. When you gasped at his audacity, he just giggled.

“Hey!” you exclaimed in protest before stealing a fry back. 

If you hadn’t been so caught up in your little world, you’d have noticed the knowing look your three friends exchanged and their simultaneous eye roll. 

—

The following Monday, you decided to have your tutoring session at your house instead of Jake’s. His mom was away at a convention for the week, so you’d have to take the bus anyway - since your house was two stops earlier, you offered to switch it up for once. Jake had never actually been inside your house and was curious to see what it was like, so he eagerly agreed. 

Kiwi was happy to see him and followed the two of you around the house as you gave Jake a quick tour before going up to your room. When you reached the top landing, you realized that Kiwi was still at the bottom of the stairs and was looking up at you expectantly. “Is she not allowed upstairs?” Jake asked.

“Usually not, but I let her come up when my mom’s not here. Come on Kiwi! It’s okay!”

Kiwi didn’t need to be told twice - she trudged her little body up the stairs, and you couldn’t help but giggle at her adorableness. “She’s so cute,” you cooed, looking at your dog with a huge smile on your face.

“She really is,” Jake agreed, but when you turned your head to face him, he wasn’t looking at Kiwi - he was looking straight at you, a softness in his eyes that made your stomach turn. He snapped out of it when he noticed your round, surprised eyes, and cleared his throat. “So, where’s your room?” he asked, looking around the hallway and avoiding your gaze.

“Over there,” you replied, fighting the smile that tried to make its way to your lips as you headed towards your room, Jake and Kiwi following right behind. 

You told Jake to wait for a second as you went to get a second chair. When you came back, he was standing in front of your shelves, upper body slightly bent forwards to observe all the decorations and framed pictures closer. You placed the chair next to your desk then joined him, answering all the questions he had about the items on your shelves. Who’s this? When was this? Where did you get this? In his defense, you really did have a lot of things - you were trying to get rid of your hoarding habits, but you got attached to every small thing that held some sort of significance. You went to sit at the edge of your bed and just watched him, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

It reminded you of the first time you’d been to his house, how upset he’d seemed when you talked about his baby pictures and how you hadn’t wanted to risk looking at all the stuff in his room. You were also curious about things like that, and you wondered once again what had bothered him so much. The question was burning your tongue - although you were nervous to ask it, not wanting to upset Jake once more, you now knew him well enough to know he wasn’t the type to stay mad for long. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Jake replied, fingers toying with your favorite Littlest Pet Shop figurine you had kept from when you were eight.

“Why didn’t you want me to look at your baby photos that one time?”

Jake paused at your words. He stood up straight and set the figurine back on the shelf. He glanced at you before walking over to your bed and taking a seat next to you, leaning back on his palms while you rested your hands underneath your thighs. 

“You probably noticed I don’t mention my dad, right? Or the fact that he’s never home?” 

You nodded in response. You had noticed it, but you’d never brought the topic up in case it might be sensitive. Jake sighed. “He passed away when I was six.”

You turned your head towards him. To your surprise, his face remained expressionless - you couldn’t detect any sort of sadness or anger in his features, as if he was just reciting a fact. His uncharacteristic numbness upset you even more than any tears could have. 

He met your gaze and gave you a small smile. “I was so young that I only have very vague memories of him, like playing soccer together in the backyard or a trip to the beach with my parents and my brother. I only remember his face and his voice from the photos and videos my mom has shown me.” He sighed again, shifting forwards and resting his hands in his lap, fiddling with his fingers. “So when I see these pictures, they sort of just remind me of what I’ve lost? I really don’t like lingering on them. I sort of just ignore them every time I walk up or down the stairs.”

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t have mentioned them if I’d known-”

Jake is quick to shake his head. “No, no, don’t be sorry. You couldn’t have guessed.” You want to comfort Jake in some way, thank him for telling you something so personal, but you’re not sure what words to use - so, instead, you take one of his hands in yours and bring it to your lap, then cover it with your other one. Your eyes meet for a second - he looks slightly taken aback at first, but then, his eyes drift down to your joined hands, and a small blush spreads on his cheeks.

“I’m- I’m okay, really. Like I said, it happened so long ago that I’m used to not having a dad now. It almost feels like it’s always been that way, which makes it even weirder to think it wasn’t. It’s just… It feels weird to miss someone I barely remember so much, you know?”

You nodded and let out a low hum. “I do know.” Jake tilted his head at you, silently asking you to go on. “It’s different, but I get that feeling of missing something you barely remember. I have these blurry memories of my parents being happy together and the three of us being a happy family, and then all of a sudden it’s hearing arguments from my room and my dad moving out, and they’re asking me, Do you wanna live with mom or dad?”

You watched as Jake moved his hand slightly, intertwining your fingers together and squeezing your hand. “I was older than you were when they divorced, so I guess I have more memories to hold onto, but they hurt more than anything.” You let out a deep sigh. “My dad cheated, so it’s not like I wished my mom had stayed with him, but I was too young to understand what was happening. I just wanted my parents together again.” 

When you lifted your head to look at him, he met your gaze, and his eyes were so soft yet so intense, like he was seeing right into you. Then he chuckled. “Do you ever get jealous of other people’s parents?” he asks, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“All the time,” you admitted with a chuckle, relieved to find out you weren’t the only one. “Yena has been blessed with these like, practically perfect parents that are still in love after twenty years, never argue and have a healthy relationship with all of their kids. I’m so in awe every time I see them.”

“Sunghoon’s parents are like that. I feel terrible, but every time they come to cheer him on at his competitions, I just get so jealous, wishing I also had three people coming to see my games and not just two. And I always feel so silly for feeling that way.”

“You’re not silly for that, Jake,” you said, and the honesty in your voice seemed to take him aback slightly. A grin spread on your lips. “You may be silly for other things, but not for that,” you teased, making him chuckle. “I can be your third person, if you want,” you said softly, lightly bumping your shoulder against his.

His eyes seemed to light up at your words, and your smile couldn’t help but get wider at his reaction - that was, until he raised an eyebrow, almost defiantly. “Yeah? I thought you found soccer boring,” he said with a playful smirk.

“It’s not boring if you’re the one playing,” you replied. A small noise of surprise escaped his throat before he could help it, not expecting you to be so forward, and you both burst into giggles. 

He cleared his throat when you both calmed down and stood up straighter, trying to put on a cool front. “Of course it isn’t.” He turned his head to look out the window, and the sight of the sunlight perfectly hitting his features and turning his dark brown eyes a hazel color almost took your breath away. “It’s really nice out,” he suddenly said. He turned back to you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “How about we ditch the tutoring for today and go out?”

His eyes drifted down to your lips, watching as a smile tugged at the corners of your own. “I’m in.”

That was how you found yourselves sitting at a bench in the park close to your house, eating ice cream and watching Kiwi and Layla play together. You tried each other’s ice cream, and you regretted your choice of simple vanilla and strawberry as soon as Jake’s mango ice cream touched your tongue. Your eyes widened at the amazing taste - it felt like you had bit into an actual mango. 

“Good, right?” Jake asked, chuckling at your reaction.

“What the heck, yours is so much better than mine,” you mumbled, pouting at the ice cream in your cup like it had personally hurt you.

Jake thought for a second, looking back and forth between your upset expression and his own cup. “Wanna switch?”

Your heart was screaming yes, but your brain was screaming no. You tried your best to appear genuine when you smiled at him. “No, don’t worry about it. I still like mine.” You looked at him as you scooped another spoonful into your mouth as if to prove to him you were happy with your choice, even going so far as to hum in delight.

Jake just chuckled and shook his head at you, taking your cup and giving you his anyway. You were about to protest until he started eating your ice cream, imitating your previous hum. You quietly accepted the exchange, smiling as you tasted the mango ice cream again and trying to ignore the fact that Jake hadn’t switched the spoons with the cups, so you were using his and he was using yours. 

As you ate in silence, occasionally chuckling at your dogs’ antics, Jake stole some glances at you. He wasn’t sure why you looked so much prettier today than all the times he’d seen you before. Or maybe you were just as pretty as you’d always been, and he was just finally letting himself admit it. 

He may have had many friends, but there weren’t many people Jake was truly himself around. He always felt the need to be this friendly, outgoing guy that made it seem like everything was going well in his life, but with you, he felt like it was okay to stop pretending. He felt like it was okay to ask for help, like it was okay to reveal the darker parts of his life.

Now that Jay and Sunghoon had practically forced him to see the truth, Jake didn’t know what to do about his feelings for you. He finally understood why he always looked forward to your tutoring sessions, why he was so excited whenever he walked past you in the hallways, and why he was so bothered about you and Sunghoon getting along.

Sunghoon. Because even if Jake now knew that he liked you, he also knew that you liked someone else. And what was the point of letting himself fall for you even more when there was no happy ending in sight for him? He’d only get hurt in the end.

Just as the thought hit him, you turned to look at him and meet his gaze, a soft smile on your lips. Every time you smiled at him like that, Jake felt like he was watching a movie. Everything happened in slow-motion, with flowers falling around you and violins playing in the background. Jake almost felt sick, knowing he was only the second lead in your romance movie. He was the stupid werewolf and Sunghoon was the vampire that glistened in the sun and got the girl. (You had convinced him to watch Twilight, saying it was a mandatory watch to understand who you were as a person. Of course, Jake had streamed it that same night. The soundtrack was surprisingly good.)

Your voice snapped him out of his downward-spiraling thoughts. “You know, I almost got scared that Sunghoon would appear out of thin air and start hanging out with us.”

Jake tried not to sneer at the mention of his best-friend-turned-number-one-nemesis. “Why? Wouldn’t you like that?” he mumbled, clearly doing a poor job of seeming unaffected.

You frowned, then lowered your head, focusing your gaze on your almost-finished ice cream. “No, I’d rather if it was just the two of us.” Jake’s eyes widened, unsure if he’d heard that correctly or not. But before he could say anything in response, you spoke again. “It’s just, he was there when I came to watch your practice and when I thought we were all going to see a movie together, it was just him and me. You would’ve liked that movie, by the way,” you said, looking up at Jake with a smile.

Jake’s heart swelled. He wasn’t sure what what you were saying all meant, but unconsciously, his lips mirrored yours and he smiled back at you. Until he remembered you didn’t like him, and his smile fell immediately. Obviously, you had no idea what he was thinking, so his sudden stony expression sent alarms ringing through your head.

“It’s not that I don’t like him, or anything,” you said, panicked, and Jake had to keep himself from scoffing, “it’s just that- you know. It’s nice to hang out with you outside of tutoring sessions,” you finished, mumbling. 

Jake had no idea what you were saying, so he stayed quiet, watching as Kiwi and Layla ran around in circles. You liked Sunghoon, so why would you rather hang out with Jake and not him? You weren’t making any sense. 

You, on the other hand, were not liking Jake’s uncharacteristic silence. In hopes of getting his attention, you crossed one leg over the other, shifting on the bench to face him. “Plus, don’t you think he and Chaewon really hit it off the other night? I think that was the most I’ve ever heard him talk,” you said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. To your dismay, it didn’t work. You didn’t know whether he was sulking or genuinely upset - all you knew was you desperately wanted to see a smile on his pretty face again.

“Jakey?” you called out, and your voice sounded so small it hurt his heart. He hummed in response, only glancing at you for a fraction of a second. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” he replied, scooping the last of the ice cream in his mouth. As he tasted the strawberry and vanilla flavors, he couldn’t believe he had given his precious mango ice cream up all for a girl who didn’t even like him back. What a fool.

“I don’t know, you’re all- weird, all of a sudden, for lack of a better word.” You searched for some sort of an answer in his eyes, but he supplied you with none. 

Jake sighed deeply. He could feel the ugly mix of emotions in his belly turning into anger - anger at what exactly, he wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to lay it on you. “It’s just the heat, it’s making me tired,” he said. Sure, it was warm for a May afternoon, but it wasn’t that hot. But you didn’t want to push it.

“Should we go home?“ you offered, and the worry in your voice made him feel even worse. He just couldn’t understand why you were being so nice to him. He knew you probably just thought you were looking after a friend, but he'd rather you not care about his well-being and leave him be. He didn’t need one more reason to like you - he already had plenty of those. 

He nodded, mustering as convincing a smile as he could. “Sure.” 

The walk home was much quieter than usual. You could feel that Jake was keeping something to himself, and it was killing you; but whatever it was, you wanted him to tell you when he felt ready and not feel forced to. Your hand was aching, desperate to reach out and grab his as you had done before, but you were afraid that would only push him away even further. So you stayed silent most of the time, only commenting on the things around you or speaking a thought out loud when you thought it might make Jake smile. Every time his lips curled up, even ever so slightly, your heart swelled with relief.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake was making up his mind. He knew he needed time away from you to gather his feelings before he could see you as a friend again. 

When you reached your house, Jake waited outside with the dogs as you grabbed his bag he’d left upstairs. You hugged goodbye as always, but this one was different - it lasted a few seconds longer than usual, and you could swear Jake held you tighter than he normally would. It felt like he was saying goodbye for more than just a couple days.

You didn’t understand why it made your heart ache so much.

—

The next day, when you walked past Jake and Sunghoon in the hallway, Jake barely glanced at you and only tilted his head in your general direction instead of his usual wide grin and wave. You were so shocked by his sudden snubbing that you halted in your steps right away, looking behind you at his retreating figure. You locked eyes with Sunghoon, who seemed just as confused as you felt. He shrugged at you before returning to his friend and nudging his arm.

On Wednesday morning, you got a text from Jake that he couldn’t make it to your tutoring session that afternoon because of an extra soccer practice to prepare for their game that weekend, something he had never mentioned before.

Thursday and Friday weren’t very different, and your heart became heavier with every time you walked past each other and he acted like you weren’t even there. You desperately wanted to know what you’d done wrong, why he’d started to reply in one-word sentences instead of his usual voice messages and tons of emojis, but no matter how much you cogitated, you couldn’t figure it out. Even when you asked him how his game had gone, a dry Good stared back at you from your phone screen.

That Saturday, your girlfriends came over. Yena had brought beads and strings to make accessories out of, and the mere sight of them had brought fond memories back to all four of you - during your first sleepover in freshman year, this was the exact activity that had kept you occupied for hours. 

You got started on them immediately, each finding a comfortable spot in your room as soft music played in the background. You lay on your bed while Chaewon and Yena took over the floor and Hyewon sat at your desk.

“I’m gonna make one of those phone accessories,” Yena said excitedly, reaching for the biggest, most colorful beads.

“I’m gonna make couple bracelets for Jaemin and I,” Hyewon said somewhat shyly but beaming. Yena and Chaewon groaned at her words, but they gave you an idea.

“You guys are vomit-inducing,” Yena replied, and if you didn’t know your friend any better, just going off the tone of her voice, you’d have thought she was being serious. Hyewon just rolled her eyes, used to this daily slander she received simply for being in a relationship.

“I’ll make something for my little sister,” Chaewon butted in, and you and Yena simultaneously ‘aww’ed. 

“So it’s aww when Chaewon does it for her sister, and it’s vomit-inducing when I do it for my boyfriend?” Hyewon exclaimed, appalled.

“Little sisters are cute. Boyfriends are gross,” Yena replied matter-of-factly, making you giggle.

“Whatever. You guys are just jealous that you’re dying alone and I’m not. What are you making, Y/N?” she asked before Yena could retort again. The two exchanged a glare as you thought over your answer.

“I’m not saying,” you replied with a giggle. 

“She’s making one for Jake, that evil wench,” Chaewon immediately said, making your eyes widen. Yena gasped dramatically while Hyewon smiled at you.

“How did you know?” you asked Chaewon.

“Just your face. You’re so obvious,” she snickered. 

“You’re a traitor, Y/N!” Yena exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at you, and you hid your face in your hands, muttering an apology. “Wasting time and energy on a boy.”

“Don’t listen to her, Y/N. Whatever it is you make, he’ll be super happy you thought of him. Then he’ll finally ask you out and you’ll live happily ever after, just like me and Jaemin,” Hyewon said with a serene smile on her face. Chaewon and Yena exchanged a look, then faked a gagging sound. “So bitter,” Hyewon muttered, shaking her head at your friends.

“I’m not sure about that,” you sighed. “I just want to be friends again. He’s been ignoring me all week.”

All three snapped their heads up at you. “He’s been ignoring you?” Yena echoed, and you meekly nodded. “Give me his phone number. No, give me his address. I’m going there right now,” she said, already sitting up.

“Gosh, Yena, it’s fine,” you said, gesturing at her to sit back down, laughing at your friend’s seriousness. “I’ll see him on Monday anyway, I can just see how he behaves then.”

Yena didn’t look convinced, but she yielded anyway. “If he hurts you, I swear I’ll give him a stern talking to. And a broken nose.” You laughed as you thanked your friend. 

Hyewon asked for more details about this Jake situation, so you filled your friends in about his mysterious behavior that week. Chaewon had been the only one to see it firsthand, when you’d walked to a class together and Jake had walked past you without saying anything. You told them about his sparse answers to your texts, his lack of response to the TikToks you sent him. He wasn’t even reacting to your BeReals anymore. It was just such a complete switch-up in attitude that you had no idea what to make of it. They tried to come up with reasons for it, but it really didn’t make much sense. It just felt like he suddenly decided to hate you - or maybe you had been interpreting everything wrong, and the two of you had never been friends in the first place. 

“This is so confusing,” Chaewon suddenly said, seeming lost in thought. “I thought for sure that he liked you.”

“Liked… me?” you echoed.

“Yeah. Just the way he was when we were at the diner. He kept looking at you and was always smiling and blushing whenever you talked to him. Also the way Jay and Sunghoon were behaving. Boys are so obvious when their friend likes someone, it’s like they’re trying to fumble it for him. And I mean, anyone with functioning eyes can see that you like him too, so I don’t know why he’s doing this all of a sudden.”

Yena sighed. “Boys are stupid.”

“That, they are,” you agreed, sighing as well and returning your attention to your craft. Maybe a simple gift like this wouldn’t fix what was going on between you and Jake, but you had to at least try. You couldn’t let go of your friendship so easily.

Even though it seemed as though he could.

Nothing changed the next week. On Monday, you woke up to a text that pulled your heart down into your stomach.

jakey-poo i think we should stop tutoring each other for now

For an hour as you ate breakfast and got ready for school, you ruminated over your answer, only to ask him a simple why? in the end.

jakey-poo i’m to busy w soccer practice and other stuff we can start again when exams are near

you oh okay

You felt pathetic, but you had no idea what to say. You couldn’t force him into this, and you definitely couldn’t show up at his house and demand a better explanation. If you were Yena or Chaewon, maybe you could - but you weren’t. You couldn’t even bring yourself to ask him if the two of you could still hang out outside of that, so scared you were for his inevitable rejection.

During the week, you tried to find a time when you could give him your small handmade gift, but Jake wasn’t even looking you in the eyes anymore. The only time you made eye contact with him over those five days was on Wednesday at lunch - as you walked into the cafeteria, you scanned the whole room, unconsciously searching for him. When you did, he was already looking at you - he was close enough for you to see the slight frown in his eyebrows, the lack of the usual glint in his eyes. But as soon as he’d seen you’d found him, he turned away. You only looked away when Chaewon called out your name.

In the few classes you had together, he always slipped away before you could get to him. Him walking past you like he couldn’t even see you broke your heart a little bit more every time, and by Friday, you had completely given up. Your friendship with Jake was over, and you had no idea why, no idea who or what to blame.

Monday and Wednesday afternoons felt empty now that you had gotten used to spending them with him, and you couldn’t even walk Kiwi without missing him. He seemed to miss Jake and Layla too - he’d sometimes tilt his head at you as if asking where your new friends were, and when you got to the park, he’d gloomily stick to you instead of running around like he usually would, especially when Layla was there.

The worst part was at night, when your thoughts kept you up. You’d reread your and Jake’s text conversations, wondering what went so wrong so quickly, warm tears spilling from your eyes out of sadness and tiredness. On those nights, you’d sneak Kiwi up to your room and let him cuddle up to you in your bed. You’d comfort each other that way.

You had no idea that a couple kilometers away, Jake lay in bed sleepless as well, Layla at the edge of his bed and whining in her sleep. You had no idea that missing you had carved a deep hole in his chest.

—

Enough was enough.

It had been days since Layla had last seen Kiwi, and to a young pup like her, that felt like eternity. Lately, Jake hadn’t seemed happy to go on walks with her like he used to, and he barely had any energy to play with her. She also hadn’t seen you in days, and she wondered if that had anything to do with Jake’s recent despondency. 

But thankfully, Layla was a smart girl, so she knew exactly what to do to fix this dire situation. On Friday, she waited for Jake to come back from soccer practice and take her on a walk. As soon as they reached the sidewalk outside of their house, she pulled on her leash in the opposite direction of their usual route. Jake tried pulling her the other way, but she wouldn’t budge.

“We’re going that way, Layla,” Jake said, amused by his dog’s sudden stubbornness. Layla barked back. “Come on!” 

She was really not moving. “We never go that way,” Jake said, sighing. “That way’s the-”

That’s when he realized. Layla wanted to go to the park you went to with Kiwi. “But what if we ran into them?” Jake asked. 

Layla barked again. She wanted to say, That’s exactly why I want to go there, but of course Jake didn’t understand. He sighed again and obliged, letting Layla lead the way. She had a good feeling that she’d finally see her friends again today. 

Jake’s heart started beating faster with every step he took, knowing that you might be out right now, too. When he’d seen you at school, you’d seemed as sad as he was, and he felt terrible for perhaps being the reason behind it - but he didn’t know what else to do. He could either spare your feelings or his. If this was hurting you, he knew you’d move on quickly enough anyway - and when he came to terms with being just friends with you, he’d come back, and everything would be perfect like it used to be. Foolproof plan.

If there was one thing Jake had learned from the tutoring sessions with you, it was that the weather always reflected the protagonist’s inner thoughts. If they were upset, it would be gray and rainy - if they were happy, it would be warm and sunny. Jake glared at the sun, just another reminder that he wasn’t the main character in this story. If he was, it would be thundering and lightning would be striking.

As if his life was a joke, two minutes after Jake and Layla had walked into the park, he saw you. At least you were facing the other direction, so you couldn’t see him, and he could redirect his route to avoid you. But he let himself indulge in the moment for a few seconds. You had laid out a picnic blanket for you and Kiwi and rested on your stomach with your elbows propping you up, reading a book. Kiwi slept peacefully next to you - this dog was the furthest thing from a guard dog Jake had ever seen. You kicked your feet up in the air, flip flops discarded to the side of the blanket. Jake was happy to see you like this, enjoying the warmth of this sunny May afternoon. 

He was about to walk away, but a sudden movement caught his eye. Two school kids started running to you, and before you could even register their presence, one of them snatched your flip flops and they both sprinted away, shrieking with laughter like two little devils. Where the hell were their parents?!

Without thinking, Jake started running after them, and so did Kiwi and Layla. 

“Hey! Come back here!” Jake yelled, hoping in vain that these kids would listen to someone older than them. Kiwi did his best, but his tiny legs didn’t allow for such a chase - Layla, barking loudly at the thieves, was the first to reach them, and she managed to scare them so much, they tripped over their feet. But unlike them, she was well-behaved, so she sat once her job was done and waited for Jake to arrive. 

“What are you two doing? You can’t just steal other people’s things!” he admonished, holding onto his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

Both kids were already teary-eyed. “We just wanted to play a prank, we’re sorry!” one of them quickly said, voice shaky.

“It’s not to me you should apologize, but to her,” Jake said, turning around to point in your direction. That’s when he noticed you sitting on your knees, hands covering your face as your shoulders trembled. “You made her cry!” Jake exclaimed, tone much angrier than seconds prior. “Let’s go,” he said, grabbing the kids by their shoulders and forcing them to keep up with his quick steps.

You didn’t notice their presence in front of you until Jake prompted them. At the sound of the all too familiar voice, you whipped your head up. Jake swore he heard his heart breaking when he saw your red eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. You barely heard the kids’ apology, so amazed you were at suddenly seeing Jake.

“We’re sorry for stealing your flip-flops and making you cry,” the first one said.

“Sorry,” repeated the other one, handing you your shoes.

“Oh, right. Thanks, just don’t do it again,” you replied, sniffing as you took back your shoes.

“We won’t!” they replied in unison before running away once more.

Jake stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, unsure what to say. He watched you stare at your flip flops like you’d never seen them before in your life. “You’re not going to thank me for catching those delinquents?” he asked after a small while, chuckling slightly.

This made you look up at him. He gulped as your eyes met. Then, you burst into sobs again, and Jake started panicking. He crouched down to your level, first holding you by the shoulders then forcing your head out of your hands so he could wipe away your tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“No no no, why are you crying, Y/N?” he asked softly, pulling you into a hug.

You continued crying into his shoulder, ignoring Kiwi and Layla’s confused stares. “You- you- I haven’t seen you in ages!” you exclaimed.

Jake sighed. He didn’t understand why you were crying like this for him, all he knew was that he’d never felt so awful. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered into your hair, pulling your shaking body closer to him. “I’m sorry.”

You leaned back to glare at Jake, your bottom lip jutting out in discontent. “Do you even know how much I missed you?”

Jake held your head in his hands like it was the most precious thing in the world. Mouth agape in surprise, he looked at you with sad eyes. “You… you did?”

Your eyebrows creased. “Of course I did!” Another sob rippled through your body, and Jake took you back in his arms, wrapping them around your shoulders and resting his cheek against your hair. 

“I missed you too.”

“Then why did you do this?” you asked, voice breaking.

“Because I didn’t want to get hurt,” Jake whispered back. “But I didn’t think I’d hurt you. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You leaned back again, but this time, you looked confused rather than angry. His eyes were soft as they scanned your face and as he brushed strands of your hair back behind your ears. “Why would you get hurt?” you asked again, bringing your voice to the same volume as his.

Jake sighed and squeezed his eyes shut for a second, as if in pain, before opening them again and boring them into yours. “I like you so, so much Y/N. So much so that I don’t know what to do with myself. But I know that you don’t feel the same way, and I was scared that by staying by your side, I’d just fall in love with you even more and get hurt in the end. So I pushed you away because I didn’t know what else to do, but I’m so sorry I- You’re crying again?”

Your fists grabbed at the front of Jake’s t-shirt as sobs raked through your body once more. It was official - Jake was the stupidest person you’d ever met. And you were in love with him.

“Why are you crying?”

“Because I like you too, you idiot!” you yelled back. Your tears were probably staining his t-shirt, but you couldn’t care less. He liked you. Jake liked you.

You were too busy crying to see Jake’s eyes slowly widening in disbelief. “You what?!”

Gently, Jake pushed your shoulders back so he could look at you. Even with puffy eyes and a runny nose, you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Pretty like an angel that had graced the Earth with her presence. “You what?” he repeated, just to hear you say it again.

“I like you, Jake. I’m so in love with you it's actually pathetic,” you said with a chuckle, looking down out of shyness. But when you looked back up, Jake’s eyes were going back and forth between yours, the expression on his face like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard but desperately hoped it was true.

As you locked eyes, both of your faces lit up with grins. You burst into laughter together, finding each other’s hands and intertwining your fingers together. Then Jake brought you back into his arms, holding tightly, as if he was scared you might disappear any second. Kiwi and Layla had long walked away to give the two of you some needed privacy.

In each other’s arms, you rocked side to side gently and laughed for no reason other than the incredible fact your feelings were reciprocated. “You stink, you know,” you suddenly said in-between giggles. “You sweat while you ran after those kids.”

“I sweat? You mean I swote, right?” Jake asked a pause.

You leaned back to look at Jake. “Swote?” you echoed, and he nodded. Your umpteenth smile made your cheeks lift. “You have to be kidding-”

“I am,” Jake cut off, mirroring your smile. “I just wanted to make you laugh.”

You gasped and lightly punched his chest before letting your body fall against his again. “You’re so silly,” you said, sighing in bliss at the sound of his giggles.

Then all of a sudden, Jake pulled away and looked at you, almost frightened. “What about Sunghoon?” 

“What about him?” you asked back, confused by Jake’s question.

“I thought you- Didn’t you- you know…”

You tilted your head at Jake, a small grin spreading on your lips again. “I don’t know.”

“I thought you liked him…” Jake mumbled, looking away with a pout.

Before you could stop it, a noise of confusion left your throat. You looked at Jake like he was insane. “I can barely have a conversation with Sunghoon, what made you think I liked him?”

Jake pursed his lips and let a resigned puff of air out of his nose. “I, um- Remember when we mixed our backpacks up?” he asked and you nodded, smiling at the fun memory. “I may have, um, I may have read… your… diary,” he admitted, voice getting quieter with each word. He dared a glance at you - you looked horrified, eyes wide and mouth agape. “And you wrote that you liked Sunghoon,” he finished with a whisper.

It was silent for a few seconds, and Jake was bracing himself for a slap to the face or your screams, until you did the last thing Jake expected you to do - you laughed. You laughed so hard and for so long that he got scared you had gone insane and this was the first part of your mental breakdown before you murdered him in cold blood for having invaded your privacy. He would’ve deserved it, he thought.

“I don’t- oh my God, Jake, I don’t- I don’t like Sunghoon. I never really have, or not in the way you think, I can’t- oh my God,” you explained in between giggles, trying to catch your breath but starting to laugh again every time you managed to compose yourself. Jake tried to laugh along, but he was too confused to do so properly.

“You’re not mad?” Jake asked, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“No,” you replied, shaking your head and the last giggles out of your throat. “You read it ages ago, and we didn’t even know each other back then, there’s no point in being mad now. It’s just funny - I know exactly why you think I liked Sunghoon, but I didn’t. Not really. And even if I did, those feelings are nothing compared to the ones I have for you now,” you said, beaming. A blush spread on Jake’s cheeks, and you could tell he was trying (and failing) to contain a proud grin.

You explained to Jake the ‘character’ thing you and your friends had going on and that Sunghoon (and hat guy) just happened to be one of them - you watched as Jake narrowed his eyes and slowly nodded, trying to understand this concept that was so foreign to him. 

“You know, it all makes a lot more sense now,” Jake said when you were explaining. “It would’ve been weird for you to like Sunghoon when I was right there.” He smirked down at you as you playfully rolled your eyes. 

“Oh my God!” you suddenly exclaimed, startling Jake in the process. Dramatic as always, he put a hand over his heart and exhaled loudly. “I have something for you. For us, actually.” You reached into your bag and got out the two accessories you’d made for you and Jake. “These are for us to put on our backpacks, so that we don’t confuse them again. They also match.”

Jake’s eyes were fixated on the string of beads as you placed into his palm. “I tried to give it to you over the week, but…” 

A teardrop fell into Jake’s palms, and when you looked at him, you realized he’d started crying. “Jake?” you cooed softly, and he sniffled, wiping away the tears from his eyes.

As a response, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and buried his face in your hair. “Thank you. And I’m sorry. I promise you’ll never go a second without my undivided attention from now on,” he said, voice shaking with emotion, and you hummed happily.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

He leaned back, and you were relieved to find the familiar puppyish grin on his lips. You gazed into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, and before he could stop himself, he grabbed your head in his hands and pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, but when his face was back in front of yours, your eyes immediately drifted to his lips. They looked soft and plump and pink, and were utterly inviting. Every time you’d started daydreaming about kissing Jake, you’d stopped yourself, not wanting to over-indulge in your fantasies. But was this finally, really happening?

“Y/N?” Jake said quietly. You could swear his face was getting closer.

“Hm?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your face broke out into a grin. Without warning, you pressed your lips against Jake’s - initially just for a peck, but as soon as you started pulling away, Jake chased after your lips and trapped them into a kiss, a proper one this time. You’d never done this before, so it was naturally somewhat clumsy, but you and Jake were so giddy with excitement that you couldn’t care less. So what if you were smiling so hard, your teeth clashed against his, or you kept bumping noses? You were kissing Jake Sim. 

The second time around, he let you pull away to catch your breath, and you wished you could photograph the sight in front of you - Jake with flushed cheeks, closed eyes and a serene smile on his face. He was so pretty, and now, he was all yours.

When he opens his eyes and finds you looking at him, his smile widens. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

“Yes,” you echoed, laughing. You pressed your lips to his cheek before burying your face in the crook of his neck.

He hugged you to him and the sweet sound of his giggles filled your ears and your heart. “My girl,” he whispered, before leaning his head back, face to the sky, and screaming it loud enough for the whole park to hear. You tried to shush him, but you couldn’t stop laughing yourself out of sheer excitement. Layla and Kiwi came running back to you, barking happily and trying to lick your faces. 

“I cried so much today, my eyes are gonna be puffy tomorrow morning,” you said between giggles. 

Jake pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. “I’ll make sure you never cry again, Y/N,” he said, and he sounded so genuine, you almost wanted to cry again right then and there.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur - while you and Jake kissed, laughed, talked, and hugged, hours that felt like minutes passed you by. Jake kept on looking at the accessory you made him, poking fun at you for knowing his favorite color even though he’d never mentioned it.

“It was a lucky guess,” you grumbled. “Your room’s walls are that color,” you said, pointing to a particular dark blue bead.

“I love it,” he replied with a kiss to your forehead.

As always, he walks you home - and this time, you can take his hand without any hesitation. Your mom had come home from work while you and Jake were out, and you found her in the kitchen, prepping some veggies for dinner. 

As soon as Jake introduced himself, a flash of revelation struck her and she shot you a knowing smirk. “So you’re Jake,” she said, and the boy glanced at you with amused confusion. “That one over there has been badgering me about you these past few weeks.”

Apparently, you agreeing to be his girlfriend had already gone to his head, because instead of looking surprised at your mom’s words, he slowly turned to you with an arrogant smirk gracing his lips. “Has she?”

Your mom nodded slowly. “Oh, yes.” Then her expression slowly morphed into something else as she remembered your red, puffy eyes from the other evening when you’d told her about what was going on with Jake. She raised her kitchen knife and pointed it straight to him, eyes narrowed. “If you ever hurt my daughter again, I’m putting you in the lasagna, young man.”

Jake gulped, smirk completely wiped off of his face. You just watched in amusement. “I- I won’t,” he stuttered, eyes fixed on the blade of the knife.

A wide grin reappeared on your mom’s face as she went back to cutting the vegetables. “Good!” 

Jake looked at you for some sort of explanation, but you simply shrugged. He’d just have to get used to your mom’s crazy. 

“You know, you’re just as handsome as she described,” your mom told Jake with a wink.

“Mom, please!” you exclaimed, cheeks burning with heat. You liked it better when she was threatening your boyfriend with a knife, but he was relieved by the new turn this conversation had taken.

“What else has she said?”

“Oh, you know, just your typical he’s so smart, he’s so cute, he’s so funny-”

“Okay, that’s it!” you cut in before your mom could spill more on you. You ignored Jake’s noises of complaint as you grabbed him by the shoulders and led him towards the door. “I think it’s time for you to go home, no?” 

“Y/N, come on!” Jake whined, giggling. 

“Why don’t you stay for dinner, Jake?” your mom offered, making you stop in your tracks. You stared wide-eyed at her but she just looked at Jake, wearing an inviting smile.

“Sure!” Jake beamed. “I just need to call my mom.”

“Oh, invite her along! I always make enough to feed an army, anyway.”

“Really?” Jake asked, incredulous. Since his brother had left for university, it had always been just he and his mom at the dinner table. The thought of sharing a meal with you and your mom filled his heart with warmth. 

“Yeah!”

Jake smiled giddily as he got his phone out. “Thanks, she’ll be stoked.”

Although you both wanted to help your mom, she urged you to stay outside with the dogs and enjoy the last rays of sunshine of the day, insisting she didn’t need any help. So you and Jake spent some time throwing sticks for Kiwi and Layla and giggling at their cuteness. Kiwi quickly got exhausted and came to lie down at your feet, but Layla was tireless. “Your dog, your responsibility,” you said as you sat down next to Kiwi, rubbing his tummy and watching Jake throw the stick over and over again for Layla.

Jake was as relentless as Layla, and every time she ran after the stick, he ran to you and pressed a kiss to another part of your face, making you giggle every time. Once on your forehead, once on your nose, once on your cheek, then the other, and once on your lips.

Then his mom rang the bell, and as your mom opened the door for her, the oddest thing happened - they called out each other’s name and hugged as if they were old friends. You and Jake exchanged a confused look before turning your attention back to them.

“What a coincidence!”

“Right! Such a small world, I can’t believe you’re my daughter’s boyfriend’s mom.”

“Boyfriend? Gosh, has he finally asked her out? I was going crazy seeing him moping around in his room!”

“Mom!” Jake yelled, face already reddening as you burst into laughter.

You joined them inside the house and set the table while your mom finished up dinner. Jake’s mom had brought a bottle of red wine as a gift, so she poured two glasses for her and your mom, but you and Jake stuck to Sprite. 

Apparently, they knew each other from some yoga class they both went to every Sunday - you found out this was the woman your mom often went out for lunch or drinks with. They were so excited to meet each other like this that they talked most of the time, leaving you and Jake to eat your food quietly and giggling every time you made eye contact or your feet touched under the table. 

Just as you were about to take your last bite of lasagna, your phone pinged with a message. Curiously, so did Jake’s. Chaewon had sent a message into the group chat, asking to meet her at work when her shift was done because she was craving an Oreo milkshake.

chae bae y/n u better come ik ur not doing anything better tonight anyway

You scoffed. You were doing something better.

“Shit, today’s Friday! The boys are waiting for me at the diner, I completely forgot,” Jake exclaimed as he read the messages on his phone.

“Language, Jake,” his mom scolded.

“At the diner?” you repeated.

“Yeah, that one we went to last time. Why?” Jake asked when he noticed your surprised expression.

“That’s where Chaewon wants to meet.”

You both turned to your respective moms, silently asking for permission to leave the dinner table.

“Just go,” your mother said with a smile.

“I’ll take Layla home later,” Jake’s mom added.

You thanked them before rushing to get a bag and heading to the bus stop, hoping a bus would come by soon. Twenty minutes later, you were opening the doors of the diner and looking around for your friends, who were nowhere to be found. You were fishing your phone out of your pocket to call Chaewon when a familiar voice caught your and Jake’s attention.

“What are they doing together?” you heard Jay say, followed by loud shushes. You turned your head to find all five of your friends (plus Jaemin) crammed in a booth in the corner that was somewhat hidden from the rest of the restaurant. But they were trying so hard to be discreet that it made their presence even more obvious - they hid their faces with their hands as if that would make them disappear from your view. You and Jake shared a look before chuckling, shaking your head at your friends.

“Whatever, they’ve clearly found us,” Jay sighed and exited the booth, walking towards the two of you.

“Were you guys trying to get us to make up or something?” Jake asked with an amused smile.

“Yeah, we grouped up and planned this whole thing. It was a real team effort.”

“It might’ve worked better if you hadn’t all stayed here, you guys were so obvious,” you chided.

“Tell that to your friends over there! They insisted on watching it unfold,” Jay grumbled, and you looked behind him to see your friends frantically waving at you.

You switched to a bigger booth that could accommodate all seven of you, and as soon as you’d placed your orders, Yena practically pounced on you, demanding an explanation as to how the two of you were already made up.

You turned to look at Jake and smiled at him before answering. “It’s all thanks to Kiwi, really,” you told Yena.

“Kiwi? As in your dog Kiwi?” Chaewon asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“Mh-hm.” In your peripheral, you noticed Jake tilting his head at you.

“You mean Layla, right?”

You imitated his head movement. “No, I mean Kiwi.”

“But Layla made me go to the park today. I wouldn’t have gone there if it wasn’t for her,” Jake insisted, giving you an are you being serious look that you mirrored.

“I wasn’t going to go outside at all but Kiwi kept bugging me to take him on a walk, that’s why I was in the park in the first place. It’s thanks to Kiwi,” you repeated.

“It’s thanks to Layla,” Jake retorted, playfully narrowing his eyes at you.

“Trouble in paradise,” Jaemin whispered, and Hyewon slapped his arm.

The whole table was silent as you and Jake stared each other down, waiting to see who would cave first. It was like everyone could breathe again when Jake’s face broke out into a grin and he rested his arm behind your shoulders. “Okay, it’s thanks to Kiwi,” he conceded, making you hum in satisfaction. You rested your head on his shoulder and ignored Yena’s groan of disgust at the PDA.

But Jake, as always, wasn’t letting you off the hook so easily. “And Layla.”

—

02.06.202X - 12:18

rodrigo hater y/n i can see you being gross from across the courtyard can u guys not feed each other ur still on school grounds and ur ruining my day have some decency

sweet hyewon you guys are super cute <3  jaemin and i only have the same lunch period once a week i miss him

rodrigo hater ugh wheres chaewon she’d have my back

you hyewon love u yena frigg off you’re not going to like this… i think she’s with sunghoon rodrigo hater WHAT

sweet hyewon omg hahahaha saw it coming cuuuuute

rodrigo hater i hate you all so much you’re all kicked out of my celibacy club

chae bae we weren’t part of it in the first place

rodrigo hater GO AWAY YOU TRAITOR

03.06.202X - 09:15

you jake wake up  wake up wake up please

jake ??? R U okay?

you kiwi keeps whining i think he wants to see layla come over?

jake . did u just wake me up before 10 am on a sunday morning for this

you i made pancakes?

jake i’m going back to sleep

you but i miss you :(

jake running

07.06.202X - 16:39

stink #1 hey

jake no

stink #1 wtf man

jake im busy

stink #1 smooching ur girl?

jake yeah stay mad bro

stink #1 where’s hoon

stink #2 he’s at ice skating practice with me <3 this is chaewon btw

jake AYO????

stink #1 HE GAVE YOU ACCESS TO HIS PHONE???

stink #2 hehehe bye losers

stink #1 oh my god jake this is huge

jake right… our little boy he’s grown so much

stink #1 i’m getting teary eyed anyway i wanted to say i think we should invite the girls to bro night more often it’s always fun with them

jake oh? if u wanna see yena just say so bro

stink #1 fuck u man

jake ur literally so obvious you get 100% more obnoxious when she’s around

stink #1 idc she laughs at my jokes

jake which is proof that there’s something wrong w her anyway i’ll ask my girl about it

stink #1 ew and thx ^^

09.06.202X - 17:03

jakey-poo y/nnnnnn y/n hellloooooo y/n y/n y/n baby :(((( where are u what r u doing i miss you hello y/n my baby darling angel pls answer me layla misses you

you jake sim

jakey-poo HIIIIII

you jay is a genius i’m anime pomodoroing the hell out of this essay it’s working so well i’m almost done with it already

jakey-poo don’t compliment another man ever again i’m going to cry

you but jay’s your friend

jakey-poo i’ll kill him if i have to

you gosh okay jay’s an idiot

jakey-poo hahaha he is ice cream after dinner ???

you duh

31.07.202X - 21:03

jakey-poo i’m waiting for you outside the theater baby we have a lot of talking to do. i can’t believe you kissed someone else in front of me

you jake baby it was just acting <3 you know you’re the only one i really kiss

jakey-poo i know i am so come here and kiss me quick you did so well and you were so pretty on stage and i love you so much  COME QUICK I WANNA KISS YOU

you i’m hurrying i promise but a lot of people are trying to talk to me :(

jakey-poo ofc they are you killed it my baby’s already famous <3

you hehe love you my jakey-poo

jakey-poo STOP IT WITH THAT

permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 (ask to be removed/added!)

© asahicore on Tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works. feedback and reblogs always appreciated!

#@ : uc #enhypen x reader #jake sim x reader #enhypen fluff #jake sim fluff #jake x reader #jake fluff #enhypen scenarios #jake sim scenarios #enhypen imagines #jake sim imagines #enhypen angst #jake sim angst

[ozarkthedog]

Ozzie's 11k Birthday Sleepover

i'm still in awe of getting to celebrate another birthday (april 30) on tumblr along with a new milestone! thank you for supporting my writing and indulging in fantasizes with me over the years. i thoroughly enjoy whoring with each and every one of you! i love you! 💙

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

❦ characters accepted: joel miller · tess servopoulos · tommy miller · frankie morales · santi garcia · tim rockford · dieter bravo · javier pena · dave york · mr. ben · marc spector · layla el-faouly · steven grant ❦ send asks with the corresponding emoji and all details! ❦ DILF/DBF/DARK asks are encouraged! ❦ multiple submissions are welcome. i'll do my very best to respond to them all even when the party is over. obvs, i reserve the right to not respond to an ask if it doesn't vibe with me. don't take it personally xx ❦ to filter: #ozzies 11k birthday ❦ celebration from April 26th thru April 28th!

𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒

📷 - send a character + a concept and I’ll respond with a moodboard and maybe a drabble. 📝 - send a location & number from this prompt list + character and i’ll write a drabble. 💀 - send your dark! thots and i’ll add to the carnage. 😈 🥰 - Fic/Blog Rec - i wanna share the love!!!!! 👀 - WYR, FMKiss, This or That, Cast My Mutuals, etc. 💌 - any questions you’d like me to answer!

i’ll add all fics i write for the sleepover to this post 💙

#ozzie 11k birthday #pedro pascal #oscar isaac #signal boost if you so please #posting early so i don't talk myself out of doing this

[anonymousewrites]

Burden of Truth (Book 1) Prologue

Father Figure! Marc Spector x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Steven Grant x Teen! Reader

Mother Figure! Layla El-Faouly x Teen! Reader

Prologue: On the Precipice

Summary: In 2018, (Y/N) discovers grief as people turn to dust and the world turns to chaos.

Mouse Note: Welcome to Burden of Truth! Kind of a rough beginning, but, hey, how else do you become an Avatar to a god? Anyways, housekeeping: This is a platonic fic, so anyone who suggests anything inappropriate between an adult and minor will be blocked and deleted. That's pretty much it, but I wanted to make it clear. As for the actual fic, there aren't any warnings other than the violence that Marvel shows. I'm really excited to share this series! Please feel free to comment since I'm always up to answering questions and replying to comments. Plus it makes me keep writing. Without further ado, though, please enjoy!

2018…

            (Y/N) gasped for breath, but their lungs refused to bring in the air they needed. Every limb ached, and their heart beat against their chest. It stuttered, refusing to work correctly. The edges of (Y/N)’s visions blurred to black.

            Everything had gone wrong. They had thought this summer would be a beautiful one, traveling with their parents. Egypt was lovely, and (Y/N) liked to listen to their parents—anthropology and history professors—tell them about the rich history and culture of the country.

            Plus, they were far away from New York where strange aliens had recently attacked and fought Iron Man and a strange wizard. They were safe with their family and free to enjoy themself.

            And then people turned to dust.

            Screams echoed as loved ones disappeared before people’s very eyes. Cars crashed without drivers. Buses overturned and threw out people and sand. Cries went out as crashes sent metal through limbs—through torsos.

            Through (Y/N)’s torso.

            (Y/N) couldn’t even move to cover their chest as it bled. They didn’t try to. They knew they were dying. They didn’t want to (gods, please, no, I don’t want this I don’t want this) but they were.

            And they couldn’t even reach out to hold their mom and dad’s hands. (Y/N) felt like a child again, but unlike nightmares, they couldn’t run to their parents’ arms to feel safe. Even if they could, the chill of death had already taken their parents’ warmth and comfort.

            (Y/N) wished they’d all turned to dust. This was violent, painful, agonizing. Their parents had laid beside them in distress, calling out for help and rescue, dying. No one had come.

            And now (Y/N) was alone—the world hadn’t even been kind enough to let them die before their parents.

            This was just so wrong. Unfair. Unjust.

            “It is unjust.” A calm voice spoke.

            (Y/N) didn’t move. They couldn’t, and they were already dying. Their situation couldn’t get worse.

            “I can feel your pain.”

            This time, a woman, taller than humanely possible, appeared in their line of sight. She knelt among the dust and bodies of the bus and gazed at (Y/N).

            She was Egyptian, dressed in a red gown, and wore an intricate necklace of gold and turquoise. Multicolored Sleeves swept out with her arms like wings. Silky black hair fell around her shoulders, and her eyes were lined in kohl. An ostrich feather stood in a circlet and swayed in the wind.

            (Y/N)’s eyes landed on the feather, and something in their chest pulled towards it.

            The woman tilted her head and watched them in assessment. “You sense the truth.”

            “Who…” (Y/N)’s hoarse voice died.

            “I am the goddess Ma’at.” The wind whipped around her as she spoke. “I am in search of a guardian. To uphold justice in the face of wrongdoing. To protect harmony from discord. To defend truth from falsehood.”

            (Y/N) coughed, and Ma’at tilted her head.

            “I can see the truth in your heart. You want justice for everyone who suffers like you,” said Ma’at. She leaned in. “Pledge yourself to me, pledge yourself to the truth, and I will give you the life to do so.”

            (Y/N) looked into Ma’at’s eyes and summoned all their strength left.

            “Yes.”

l

2023…

            (Y/N) crouched on the roof and dropped onto the balcony below them. The house around them was quiet. The security guards were clueless to their approach, which was just fine. They didn’t want any attention.

            (Y/N) opened the sliding door of the balcony and slipped into the display room. They glanced around themself in distaste. None of the artifacts in glass cases belonged to the owner of this house. He’d “acquired” them in the aftermath of the Blip left countries in disarray, just so like many others.

            After the return of the Blipped, the problem of stolen artifacts had only gotten worse since the chaos had begun again, letting more people profit off the displaced people and their possessions.

            (Y/N) had spent years repatriating the stolen relics from the aftermath of the Blip. This man, Mr. Medrano, was among the worst offenders. He lied about his findings as an “archaeologist” and stole what he needed for glory. And along the way, he removed any competition. A thief, a liar, and a killer. Medrano was a man who brought injustice of all kinds to the world.

            And that was precisely what (Y/N) stood against—what Ma’at stood against.

            (Y/N) stopped in front of a case of Egyptian artifacts. Their eyes scanned the contents for the relic they were supposed to bring back to Egypt (send back, really, by way of another person. (Y/N) was still just a teenager, so they couldn’t send it back themself without raising suspicions. Luckily, putting something in a hidden box and not showing their face did the trick).

            (Y/N) frowned. The hieroglyphic tablet of Tethering wasn’t on the wall. It seemed they were later than expected, and Medrano had begun to work on translation.

            Which means it’ll be in his office.

            (Y/N) went to the door of the display room and peeked outside. No light, no movement. They moved into the hall and crept down towards the room at the other side of the house. Making sure their gloves were on—no sense leaving fingerprints—(Y/N) reached out and felt the door handle.

            The door was unlocked.

            Gently, (Y/N) opened it.

            Shick!

            (Y/N)’s eyes widened, and they took a step back. A man in a white, bandage-like suit stood above Medrano. He pulled two crescent-shaped blades from his chest, and Medrano’s body slumped to the ground. The man paused and looked towards the door, the moon sighting the crescent-illusion in his hood and the symbol on the forehead and chest.

            “There wasn’t supposed to be anyone here,” said the man, but (Y/N) felt in their heart that he wasn’t speaking to them.

            “Does it matter? Your job is to punish the wrongdoers in this mansion.”

            (Y/N) blinked as they heard a voice echo from behind them. It was a god’s voice. Not Ma’at, no, but most definitely a deity.

            “I won’t hurt a kid, Khonshu,” snapped the avatar, and his hood folded back.

            (Y/N) turned around and found themself staring up (really up) at a half-man, half-bird skeleton in white wrappings. This was Khonshu.

            “I’m not a wrongdoer,” said (Y/N) to Khonshu, holding up their hands. “I’m, uh, an Avatar.”

            At that, Khonshu and man stopped.

            “You can see him?” said the man, frowning warily.

            “I’m the Avatar of Ma’at,” said (Y/N). They shifted. They weren’t used to saying that. “She’s the goddess of truth.” They could see the “truth” of the world more than others, and that included the gods that walked among them.

            “That ostrich is interfering with my work,” said Khonshu, irritated.

            “You are the one who is not supposed to interfere with human business,” said Ma’at’s calm voice, and (Y/N) glanced at the office’s large window to find her sitting on the sill.

            Khonshu’s avatar looked at the window but saw nothing. “Is another god here?”

            (Y/N) nodded sharply. This was a little too much. They were used to working by themself.

            “You are doing the exact same thing,” said Khonshu.

            “I am returning artifacts to our people,” said Ma’at. “I am not interfering in human life more than that.” She glanced at Medrano’s body. “Unlike some.”

            Khonshu tsked. “I am delivering justice.”

            “A type, yes,” said Ma’at.

            “Ma’at,” said (Y/N) quietly. “I’m going to take the tablet..”

            “Go ahead, (Y/N),” said Ma’at. “Khonshu will not harm you. You have done no wrong.”

            “They interfered with my work,” said Khonshu.

            “Irritating is not wrongdoing,” said Ma’at.

            (Y/N) decided to leave before the gods continued to argue. It made them uncomfortable. Then again, a lot of interaction did. (Y/N) hadn’t really gotten to slow down and make friends after 2018, so they’d grown used to their own company (or Ma’at’s). Everything else was business, and anything more was out of their realm of understanding.

            (Y/N) opened their bag and slipped the wrapped tablet carefully from the table inside. They looked decidedly away from Medrano’s body, glanced at Khonshu’s avatar, and left the room.

            If that’s what Avatars and gods outside of themself and Ma’at were like, (Y/N) didn’t want to meet them.

l

2025…

            “(Y/N).”

            The now-seventeen-year-old raised their eyes from the book they were reading. “Yes, Ma’at?”

            “I have an important job for you.”

            (Y/N) frowned. Ma’at never described anything as “important.” Necessary? Yes. Important? No. Everything was equally pertinent to upholding justice and order to Ma’at.

            “I need you to retrieve a scarab.”

            “Who stole it?” asked (Y/N).

            “You are.”

            (Y/N) looked at Ma’at in surprise. “What?” Ma’at disliked any injustice or unlawful actions.

            “You are stealing the scarab of Ammit,” said Ma’at.

            Ammit.

            Ammit ruled the scales in the Judgement of the Dead. Ma’at was the Feather of Truth against which human hearts were weighed. One had abandoned true justice; one continued to defend it.

            And (Y/N) was stuck in the middle with the burden to protect the truth of it all.

Taglist:

@jaytheaceenby

@severussimp

@dmitrytherat

@slytherinroyalty16

@grippleback-galaxy

@alexpangender

@thewittyfanficreader

@aew-kun-age-regression

#burden of truth #x reader #gn reader #nb reader #x gn reader #x nb reader #x teen!reader #x teen reader #found family #found family trope #father figure #platonic #platonic x reader #platonic moon knight #platonic moonknight #moon knight x reader #moonknight x teen!reader #moon knight x teen reader #moon knight x teen!reader #moonknight x teen reader #moonknight x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x teen reader #marc spector x teen!reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant x teen reader #steven grant x teen!reader #platonic marc spector

[alisonwritesimagines]

One of the Best Dads ~Marc Spector and Steven Grant Imagine~

Requested by anonymous:

Hi! I saw you were taking requests for Marc Spector/Steven Grant. And I was wondering if you could write a oneshot with them and a F!Reader, where they’re married and just had a newborn baby. Just a simple slice of life type ordeal (with a sprinkle of angst, where Marc worries he’ll be a bad father, and Steven and the reader reassure him that he won’t be).

Summary: Now that your son is here, Steven is thrilled but Marc has an insecurity that can be reassured.

Author’s Note: Kinda still on baby fever because of my boyfriend who helped me take care of my niece and nephew during a family outing. I'm pretty sure many people thought they were ours because we were having a "race" to the restaurant my family was at.

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: just insecurities from Marc, there's a baby in this fic in case people who don't like kid fics, mentions of childbirth, Layla doesn't exist in this fic sadly

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

The moment you gave birth to your son, there was one thing on your mind. Sleep. You had endured about thirty hours of labor before finally popping out your little one. So when you finally got home, you slept like you were dead.

"He's so tiny," Steven said as he held onto his son. He smiled down at his son as he slept soundly in his arms. "Marc, you wanna hold him?"

"I'm good buddy," Marc told him through the mirror. "You enjoy this."

Though it took a while to understand Marc and Steven. But once you understood how it worked and how you are able to love them both equally, you were glad to be with the two. After you had gotten married to them, you had brought up the idea of having a child. While Steven was thrilled to have one, Marc had his doubts.

It wasn't the fact of having a child that scared Marc. It was the fact of him being a father and whether or not he would be a good dad was what scared him.

It didn't take a lot for you to notice that Marc hadn't held your son since you had given birth. When your son was sleeping, you decided to corner Marc.

You spotted your husband sitting on the couch, sitting as he watched something on the television.

"Marc?" You asked.

"Yeah?"

"Can I talk to you?" You asked.

"Of course. Is there anything wrong?" Marc asked you.

"Kinda. Why haven't you held our son?" You asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, why haven't you held our son? You always have Steven hold him but never you. What's wrong?" You asked.

"It's nothing," Marc tells you.

"It's not nothing. You should be able to hold our son. What's wrong?" You asked again.

"I said it's nothing, Y/n. Please, just drop it," Marc said before getting up and walking out.

Marc headed into the bathroom before locking the door behind him.

"Why won't you hold him?" Steven asked Marc through the mirror. Marc stared at his reflection with an upset look.

"It's not what you both think," Marc said.

"Y/n loves us all. She just wants to see us happy but she wants to see you holding our son for once. Why can't you hold him?" Steven asked.

"Because I'm scared. After what I've been through, I'm afraid of hurting him," Marc said.

"You don't think I was scared at first either? I was worried I was going to drop him but I didn't. It's scary at first but once you hold him, you realize that you'll do anything for him," Steven assures Marc.

"I can't. Not right now at least," Marc said before leaving the bathroom.

Your body was still tired which didn't surprise Marc when he saw you knocked out in bed. Steven felt tired too so he couldn't switch with him even if he wanted to.

He heard your son start to cry out, making Marc look over. He knew that you shouldn't get up, knowing that your body was still tired. Marc got up quickly to calm the baby down.

"Hey, buddy. Please don't cry. You're going to wake your mom up," Marc tells him.

He watched as his son continued to cry a little more. Marc let out a sigh before picking him up. Marc had watched you and Steven many times hold and calm you son down.

"Hey. It's okay. You're okay," Marc tells you.

Your son eventually calmed down when he felt Marc holding him. Marc stared down at his son before breaking into tears. He sat on the bed as he held onto him.

"I'm sorry, buddy. I didn't mean to refuse to hold you. I just... I was afraid of hurting you," Marc said. "I love you so much and I promise I'll always keep you safe."

"Marc?"

Marc turned around to look at you. You sat up from bed, looking over at him and your son. Your eyes were droopy from your tired state.

"Go back to sleep. I got this," Marc assures you. You smiled tiredly before lying back down.

"Told you, you got nothing to worry about," you tell him.

"I know you did. Both of you," Marc smiled at you.

#marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant imagine #moon knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #oscar issac #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #alisonwritesimagines

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Could you do a moon knight imagine where you leave them because you think that they had more in common with layla and still want her, and you find out you’re pregnant (twins) but don’t tell them and one day (maybe the twins could be like 2 years old) steven sees you with your little boy that looks like you but somebody says goodbye and the little boy yells out lators gators! and you try to deny he’s their child but then your little girl (marceline) comes out and she looks EXACTLY like them and maybe marc comes out and is like “i have been looking everywhere for you, but it’s worth the wait because you gave me 2 whole new reasons to love you’ and maybe jake looks at the kids and he’s like “i’m in love, let’s have more” i know it’s all over the place but i think it’s such a nice little fic where it goes from angsty to loved up

Not my best work but definitely did my best! Hope you like

Marc appreciated how realistic you are, how grounded you can be, and how once a decision is made you follow it through. That is who you are: a doer and realist, which is often good but in this case it has turned against you.

The boys, two of three, blamed themselves for not driving out those thoughts of doubt… They could not risk you being put in danger, they would never forgive themselves if you had gotten hurt because of them.

It was a mistake to keep at arm's length when it came to his extracurricular activities. Worst is how bad it must have looked for him (Steven too) to be talking with Layla for long hours. They are friends nothing more, but you saw only two exes getting close… Rightfully.

Late hours coming home. Jake once came home smelling like another woman's perfume.

You did not shout nor cry. Marc would have preferred a reaction rather than a smile and wishing him good luck with his marriage before leaving the flat. It was horrible! Steven was fronting trying to get you to listen to an outlandish but true story and how Lalya is just a friend.

"It's okay. Take care of her." You meant it too.

That was probably two to three years ago.

One of the worst three years of his life. You disconnect yourself from his life completely, you probably thought it was for the best so Marc and Steven could focus on Layla rather than an ex.

It hurt.

It hurt you a lot more when you found out you were pregnant two weeks after the breakup. God, you practiced over and over what to say and how to approach him but… You never did it. You took yourself by bootstraps and moved on, priorities shifted, you are going to be mom and make it fucking work!

And you did.

It was a learning process, a few stumbles, and a lot of humility; but you did it.

Two healthy kids. Twins, a boy and a girl.

You cannot believe the boys and you made such beautiful little humans.

Yeah, it was rough dealing with the heartbreak especially with how wacky hormones are during and after pregnancy. Still, you knew better not to wallow for now these little humans need every ounce of your attention and love.

The boy is named David, meaning beloved in Hebrew. He is a happy boy, quiet and prefers to watch others before attempting to interact. Reminds you of how you met Jake, he watched you and tried to learn about you interacting.

The girl is named by Marceline, meaning young warrior because of its relation to Marcellus, a Roman name. She is a ball of energy! Always trying to get into things she is not supposed to (like the tin of cookies your mother brings during the holidays), to asking a thousand questions to every answer to try to give. She likes to watch history documentaries (you used them to try to get them to sleep but she watches intensely).

Her brother is always close to her, she is always close to her brother; neither from the other. Nor ever far from you.

Today you took them to the park on a warm spring day. Soon it will be their fourth birthday and since your parents are planning the party (you know they are going all out on this as usual) you have time with them to enjoy some quality time.

You forgot this park is where Steven once took you for a picnic, the very thing you are doing right now. Watching your children play with the other children in this open part.

David comes over holding a flower he found, "For mama!" Proud of himself as you thank him and place a kiss on his sweaty forehead. "Later gators!" He has been obsessed with saying that after seeing it once on a kids' show. Steven used to say that.

"(Name)?"

You jump when you hear a familiar voice.

"Huh?" Standing up then turning to see… "Steven?"

"Stewn" Your son had not left to go back to playing when Steven showed up.

Steven looks over to see a shy boy hiding behind your leg, your son waves when you whisper he can say hi to him, Steven returns the wave while in shock.

"You… Congratulations!" You cringe for him on how pitched up that sounds, "He looks cute, just like his mother."

You both laugh awkwardly.

"Yeah, um."

"Who's the father?" The American accent causes you to look at the man in front of you again, you had not realized you were looking away.

"Marc." You take a deep breath before looking at your son, "Go play, mama has to talk to an old friend, kay?"

"Okay. Later gators!" Running off to play.

"He…" Marc is staring at your son, "Looks like you."

"I hope so, I put a lot of work in for nine months." You smile small, "How are you, Marc?"

"Can you tell me his name?"

You tense up. You do not want to tell him because you named your son David with Marc in mind.

"Sorry." He apologizes when he sees you doing your little tell when you get nervous.

"Mama! I'm Godzilla, rawr!" Bumping her small head against the back of her calves. "Rawr!"

"Hah, sorry, kids." When you turn and kneel down to speak with Marceline. It was like looking in a mirror, sort of, she has his baby face but your eyes. The boy had his eyes but your face.

"Bye mister! I'll eat your house later."

"Marcy, be nice. Haha, kids I'm I right–"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Shit. You sigh heavily. Marceline looked so much like Marc, that is undeniable.

"... You have Layla, Marc. I didn't… Want you to feel obligated to stay with me."

"Layla is my- our friend, nothing more." He looks hurt.

Bitter and jealous of Marc's wife though you know you really should not be, "You always were with her. Miss dates and coming home late." The list goes on and Marc, Steven, and Jake know it looked bad. "Listen, there's no hard feelings so–"

"I love you."

You flinch at those words, "Marc…"

"We love you."

You swear you will not cry. Not here nor around your kids.

"When you left… God, we wanted to explain everything, but you left! I've been looking all over for you—"

You give him a worried look.

"Not like that."

You chuckle at how embarrassed he looks, "Go on."

He does, for a long while talking and explaining everything that happened. Sitting down listening to them while keeping an eye on the kids, they never see this side of you nor did they ever think about it. With the trauma of his childhood… He fears messing up.

"Wow." Is all you can say. It sounds crazy, unbelievable level crazy; the only reason you can believe it is because there is often wild shit on the news about superheroes and crazy phenomenons. "So, you both really are friends… Damn, I really fucked up."

All those birthdays you thought about calling Marc or Steven, or maybe Jake to include them in the children's lives. The number of times you stopped yourself not wanting to be a house wrecker.

"Love," Steven holds your hand as your lip trembles, "Don't blame yourself." You lean towards his hand that cradles your face, sighing at warmth you missed for four years.

Yes, four whole long years, Steven and you kept a better track of time.

"I missed you so so much." Confessing, "I'm sorry. Truly sorry."

"Shh," You hug him, squeeze him close as you cry softly into his shoulder. "Hey, the brightside: we made those!" Steven is ecstatic about kids!

"A piece of you," Pulling back to pretend to grab a piece of you, "And a piece of us." Then gestures to himself, "Amazing."

You laugh, "Yeah, though I did the heavy work." Teasing.

"Let's make more," You jump when Jake kisses your neck, "Carñio."

"Not in front of the kids!" Playfully hitting Jake's chest.

God, you miss them all.

#marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #reader insert #and the bird goes tweet tweet #asks #request

[moonlight-prose]

♱ BELONG TO YOU ♱

a/n: this was a fic on it's own that had been sitting unfinished in my wips folder for months. but i'm shoving it into kinktober, because it is filthy as fuck. enjoy!

day twelve - threesome + body worship | kinktober 2022

summary: a never-ending game of give and take between the three of you, and you thrived off it.

word count: 1.4k+

pairing: marc spector x f!reader x layla el-faouly

warnings: MINORS DNI, cussing, threesome, body worship, cum eating, fingering, my horrible attempt at dirty talk.

He looked pretty. That’s all you could remember in this situation, his question of what you thought about him when you first saw him now muddled in your mind. His hands ran down your sides, dragging you into his lap slowly and you did your best to give him an answer. What did you think about him? There were too many words to describe such a situation at a time like this. Fuck, you could barely even tell him what you wanted him to do next.

“C’mon tell me,” he cooed, head tilted back against the couch as your hands rested on his shoulders.

“I—”

The words caught in your throat when a second pair of hands trailed up your back. Their touch, lighter than his and yet still prominent enough to drive you just as crazy…if not more. You didn’t need to look over your shoulder to know she was smiling. Her eyes alight with mischief as she caught his gaze. They knew the effect they had and still they did this on purpose either way—drew you taut with pleasure through only their so-called innocent touches.

“What did you think of me baby?” she asked—voice barely above a whisper. It had the hair on the back of your neck standing up, eyes fluttering shut as she kissed the juncture of where your neck and shoulder met.

You whined when she pulled away, desperate to have her remain right where she was. “Please…”

He tutted, hand reaching up to wrap lightly around your throat and tilt your head to face him. “You know how to get what you want.”

The words died in the back of your throat. You wanted to shout them, tell them the truth to finally have their touch remain in the places that you needed, but you could barely form a sentence. Layla’s lips brushed against the shell of your ear, her breath washing across your cheek, sending a shudder down your spine. They were doing this on purpose. Breaking you slowly with every caress, every whispered word, because they wanted you as much as you needed them.

“I remember you telling me he was pretty,” she breathed, eyes flashing to Marc’s over your shoulder. “Didn’t you?”

You nodded quickly, choking on your stuttered breath when his hips jolted up into yours. He’d placed you on his lap in such a way that your cunt now pressed directly against the bulge in his pants. They would drag this out until you were past the point of begging—half mad with built up pleasure that you wouldn’t be able to function without their help. In a way it made you want to remain silent even more.

“You’ve gotta speak up,” Marc said. “I know you want to.”

Whimpering, you shifted in his lap, breath stuttering when Layla’s fingers began unbuttoning your top. There was no doubt in your mind that they owned you completely. That you’d die for them if asked, because you couldn’t imagine living your life without them being a part of it. The road to get here was a long one; filled with enough twists and turns to leave you dizzy.

Yet this…their touch, their love, it was all you dreamed about and more.

“C’mon baby.” His voice had turned dark, an edge to it you’d only heard when he was in the midst of a fight.

You supposed this was a fight in itself.

“Be good for us,” Layla breathed, lips ghosting along your shoulder as she stripped the shirt from your body—chills spreading rapidly down your spine with a mere brush of her breath against your skin. She knew the effect she held over your body—your being—and right now she was wielding it to her strength.

Molding you to her hands, her wants and desires. Just as Marc was doing.

“He was—oh—” Her hands dipped lower, opening the button of your pants with ease, fingers trailing along the waistband.

Marc’s hand still remained around your throat—a grin spreading across his lips as he watched you shudder with every stroke of Layla’s touch. He’d told you before that there was nothing he enjoyed more than seeing you like this. Fully pliant in their holds—nothing occupying your mind except them.

“I was what?” he asked softly, his other hand curving around your hip.

“You were pretty,” you gasped, head falling back against Layla’s shoulder as her fingers dipped into your already soaked underwear.

“Oh baby,” she cooed. You could feel her smile press against your cheek. “Is this all for us?”

Nodding, you rocked your hips forward, desperate for her touch to press even further along your cunt. She did as you wished. Spread your slick up to your clit and circling it lightly until you were shaking in her hold, chest heaving. Marc made quick work of your bra with one hand, tossing it to the side before leaning forward and taking a nipple into his mouth.

You dug your hand into his hair, a broken moan tearing from your throat as he laved his tongue over the peaked bud, tugging on it lightly with his teeth to elicit another strained sound from you. They were ruthless in their suppleness. Both exacting their pleasure on your body to drag you right where they wanted you. A never-ending game of give and take between the three of you, and you thrived off it.

“So beautiful like this,” Layla murmured, biting along your jaw, her fingers speeding up along your clit and drawing sounds from you that made her head spin. “Sitting on Marc’s lap like a goddess.”

He growled against your breast, biting into the side of it with an edge that made you jolt. He knew you liked a taste of pain with your pleasure—something he found he rather sided with as well. Nothing too hard, never enough to rip you out of the daze they put you in, but perfect enough to heighten in. The tighter grip you had on his hair told him how you reacted—his lips curving into a smile.

“You’ve got a perfect body.” His thumb rubbed into the side of your neck soothingly. “You fit our hands like you were fucking made for us.”

Layla hummed in agreement, her lips pressing against yours and guiding you into a kiss that left you gasping for breath. Their praise brought you into a new kind of high—sending your body into overdrive. It was their way of driving you insane, of reminding you who loved you at the end of the day. Who was there to protect you and keep you safe. 

You never felt more at ease—more at home—than when you were in their arms.

“I can’t wait to taste you,” she whispered.

“Me first,” Marc retorted, sliding his tongue into your mouth with practiced ease. He kissed you as if he was finally breathing for the first time in ages. As if you were the only source of oxygen for the both of them.

“She’s close,” Layla said; the audible squelch of her fingers on your cunt now mixed with your panted breaths, your eyes barely open as they took what they wanted from you.

He groaned, grinding his hips up into yours and pressing Layla’s fingers even harder against your clit. That was all you needed to go tumbling off the edge with their names on your lips. She turned your head with her other hand and caught your lips in a sloppy kiss of teeth and tongue. You felt her hand fall to lay over Marc’s that still remained on your neck—both of them reminding you that you were theirs. No one else could have you, no one could take you.

Your mind whited out as pleasure shattered across your body, until the only thought in your head was of them.

“That’s it,” Marc encouraged you, his teeth digging into your neck before sucking the skin into his mouth. “So perfect for both of us.”

“Our love,” Layla breathed, ceasing her movements when your hand shot down, gripping her wrist.

You barely opened your eyes long enough to see Marc lift her fingers to his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. It caused heat to curl low in your stomach, a feeling of need building up with every passing second you watched him lick her fingers clean. You wanted them again, wanted to be the one who tore pleasure from their body just as they did to you. Marc’s heated eyes met yours, a grin curving on his lips. He’d gotten a taste of the thing he craved most and now he wanted to drown in it—in you.

You’d have them both by the end of the night. This you knew for sure.

#marc spector x f!reader x layla el faouly #marc spector x reader x layla el faouly #marc spector x reader #layla el faouly x reader #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x you #marc spector smut #layla el faouly x you #layla el faouly smut #moon knight #kinktober 2022 #my writing

[bloodyscarab]

Moon Knight Mystery Swap!!

hey! here's a fic i wrote for @fdelopera for the 2023 moon knight mystery swap! very belated חנוכה שמח!

so grateful to have participated in this, and as a jewish system i felt incredibly lucky to have been able to write about the feeling of being a jewish system around the holiday season for another jewish person! thanks for this prompt and thanks to @tiptapricot for putting this on!

rededications of dedication

word count: 1.1k rating: g prompt: mcu moon knight system celebrating hanukkah, but each alter has a different idea on what to do, but while writing this turned more into the mcu system celebrating hanukkah, showing what each alter did to prepare. oops! final notes: slightly angsty in the middle, but a happy ending! small mentions of struggling with religious identity. generally jewish stuff that i don't aim to explain for the uninitiated. based slightly on my own system experience + how our system engages with religion. cheers!

---

in the system, it was jake that first engaged with the idea of hanukkah.

the concept of celebrating hanukkah had grown into a distant fog in the years since the system had left home. religion itself was not the issue, but the time and space in which hanukkah resided always felt distinctly hollow. the winter holiday season always left them with a bitter burn.

hanukkah wasn’t necessarily about the family. they all knew that. but it wasn’t a transgression to want someone to pray with, to watch the candles’ dancing brightness with, to recount embarrassing memories of hanukkahs past with.

jake had proposed the idea internally because layla that had inspired it externally.

“did you ever celebrate hanukkah, as a kid?” her eyes were scanning her phone as marc laid next to her in bed, back turned and eyes closed. the room was dark aside from her phone screen.

he hummed inquisitively, turning to face her. “why?”

“just looked it up because i was curious. it starts next week. i thought it would be cool if we could do something.”

“i did used to celebrate, but not for years.” marc wanted to expand on the statement, but every memory he tried to reach for felt as though it was only pulling itself further away from his grasping hands.

“do you wanna do something?” her voice softened, like she could witness the mental struggle in his face. “we don’t have to. it was just a thought.”

“i don’t know. i’d have to think about it.” it was such a simple answer that only seemed to hold multitudes of further questions. she nodded with a hum and looked back to her phone.

steven wanted something that he felt he could excel at.

he took to research on the prayers and traditions a part of him thought he ought to know without looking them up. the prayers he found felt clunky on his lips at first, like he was hitting square blocks against circle pegs. he understood only vaguely that the language had once felt circular before, that his mouth had, at one point, not felt square.

it was important for him to get those kinds of things right, and he knew within himself that it felt important only to him. he knew that marc didn’t mind, he knew that jake already knew, he knew layla wouldn’t mind. yet he struggled with each word, getting the pronunciation of the chet just right, letting the spacial vowel between the dalet and the shin hang for just the right amount of time, just for himself. it gave him a purpose for the moment, for his time out.

he was the one that looked for a hanukkiah, in a joint effort with layla. marc had imagined something rather plain and uninspired, while steven and layla pushed against the idea. the pair chatted over layla’s laptop for hours over ideas: surely electronic ones were too cheap and far from the original story, a thick olive wood one seemed too grand, a silver one with long and elegant intertwining strands felt just slightly too ornate. then there was the prices; then again, what was hanukkah but a celebration, an excuse to buy and use something expensive, ornate, heavy with artisanal craftsmanship and centuries of tradition? marc only listened in, intense conversations in the next room over that he could absorb in the louder chunks, but not entirely.

marc had been more interested in the understanding of his own history. asking jake for some kind of exchange of memory felt like walking across a glass bridge under a dark abyss, trusting in one another to not let the other look down.

jake’s stories felt only somewhat familiar to marc. each memory felt fragmented, split into a narrative marc remembered and a narrative jake knew to be true. marc was surprised with the amount of things he thought to be routine that he learned from jake. jake remembered things like the murmuring of marc’s father in his study, reading over the hanukkah halakha. he remembered things like watching marc’s mother taking time to wipe the wax that dripped down the hanukkiah branches just before sunset, the sky’s pink hue bathing her features in a glow that made her look less angry, less tired.

marc had the instinct to hide from the memories, to run across the chasm between him and jake and shatter the transparent bridge. he ached with a feeling of profound loss. he was faced with the seemingly endless times he missed those moments that connected him to deeply to his identity, the moments he now realized were missing in a way he wanted to recapture.

it stung in a way he could not quite place that jake did not just hold the memories he could not bear to carry, but also ones where he had been content, if not still balancing softly on an undercurrent of imminent destruction. the stinging became a quest, a want for versions of the feelings that jake held onto for marc alone.

jake suggested hanukkah because he wanted it. marc was jealous, in some respects, of jake’s assuredness. some of the prayers still hung from his lips, tucked into his cheeks to be used whenever needed. jake knew about hanukkah in a way that was admirable simply for his memory. he remembered their father’s recountings and readings of maccabees, held firmly to the power of the visual of jews with agency, power, self-confidence.

hanukkah was more than just lights on a windowsill, more than simple stories that echoed through bones of generations, and jake knew that best.

before the first sunset, it was jake’s hands that unpackaged the hanukkiah, placed it on a small plate to catch wax like their mother had done. it was marc’s hands that lit the shamash, touched it against the first candle. it was steven’s voice that recited the prayers, slowly, methodically, like he had practiced.

and it was layla that sat the longest at the desk, letting the warmth of the light rest against her as she sat on her laptop until the columns of wax were redistributed into drips and puddles. the light from the flames radiated off of her face and curls in a way that marc felt comforted by.

when she crawled into bed beside him, he hummed at her like he did the week before when she suggested celebrating hanukkah in the first place.

“still a good idea?” she whispered.

“yeah.” she could hear his gentle smile in the dark through his words. “glad you suggested it. you seem to enjoy it, too.”

“of course i do.”

“seven more days,” marc mused, a tone in his voice that held an air of sadness at the transience of the positive feelings of the holiday.

“seven more days. until next year.”

“yeah. until next year.”

#moon knight mystery swap 2023 #moon knight #marc spector #layla el faouly #steven grant #jake lockley #fanfic

[laylajeffany]

Not an ask, but, I'm currently about 2/3 of the way through Chaos for the Fly, and it is truly one of the greatest things I've ever read. It has made me laugh, cry, and every emotion in between. I have spent the whole time learning alongside Wednesday to love and care for myself. You've expressed out loud feelings of my autism and anxiety that I never could before, I've never read panic attacks more accurately written, and simultaneously you've taught me how to begin coping with them. The way you so vividly separate the voices of different characters, the way you describe every emotion so perfectly that leaves me feeling like I'm right there in the moment. The depth that you add to all the canon characters without taking away from their original personalities, the way all of your OC's fit so perfectly into the story, every single one of them mattering, not a single line, character or scene is unnecessary. I long for family like Josie and Emi, but in a way, just reading about them makes me feel they're talking to and teaching ME. Somehow on top of all that you wrote one of the most beautiful and realistic slow burn romances, It never feels rushed, no intimate touch or comment feels out of place, and yet you're constantly hoping for more. Then, once they are finally together they continue to have a beautiful and ever evolving dynamic, which is where a lot of other authors fall short in my eyes. The way you show Wednesday's comfort level with every character not just Enid, combines with her autism and uniquely affects each individual dynamic shows such and intimate level of understanding, it's so incredibly impressive. I think you may have ruined season 2 for me when it does eventually come out, simply because even with Jenna Ortega as a producer, it could never be as good as what you've written. and so I thank you. Thank you for writing this beautiful, spiritual, mental, and emotional journey. I hope for nothing more than that you keep continuing this story beyond chaos for the fly because I don't think I'll ever be ready for your writing to be over.

Thank you so much for this!! Slow-burn on a realistic timeline, organic character development and a meaningful portrayal of emotional struggle in a hyper-fantastic setting are my passion. I’m glad it’s resonated with you! Writing OCs is always a gamble but people really seemed to resonate Josie and Emiliana for certain (as well as others but I hear about them the most). I’ve ruined S2 for myself, truthfully and if Gwendoline Christie really isn’t in it, I’m not sure if T. Martel and I will even be watching lmfao. (This entire fic started in a parking lot at the mall when she was lamenting about needing Larissa Weems to live and I mumbled, “I guess I could write something.” HAHAHAHAHAHA.)

The good news is that I’m still playing around in this universe, I’m almost 50k into chapter one of the sequel and I think that it might actually end up being longer than I anticipated originally (just like the other fic I’m working on goddamn it I did try to make new year’s resolutions about this but it seems like I’m breaking them). I don’t think anyone is going to be mad about it! 

Thanks for reading and for letting me know how it’s impacted you! Happy to have helped in some small way. 

#layla answers fic questions #chaos for the fly

[frustratedpker]

Hey there,

I hope I'm not bothering you, but I have a question that needs answering and I figured that you as a Stefanologist are probably the best person to turn to with this One

I'm currently writing one a few Camera Nine Fanfictions, since I felt inspired after rereading some of the Comics and seeing the Content here on Tumblr

They are mostly going to be focused one the possible friendships between him and Layla, which works really well but the Proplem I run into is that i don't know how he would respond to being asked a question about his past ( by Layla, as well as possible strangers )

The past itself isn't the proplem, ( I have to admit I have the whole thing planned out in detail based on the scraps we got from the comics) but how he would answer it, if at all.

Would he avoid the question at all costs?

Would he give some cryptic answer?

Would he just tell Layla because he knows he can trust her?

I don't know, honestly. But without some answers given, a real friendship isn't really possible (and would make for a pretty boring fic)

What do you think about it?

(Also I'm really sorry this ask got so long)

Hello!!

You are not bothering at all, on the contrary I am very glad to talk about my favourite camera guy! No ask is long enough in this case!

First let me say that whenever you write the fic, I will be your first reader, we need more of those! I love possible Stefan and Lyla interactions!

And thank you for considering me as your first choice to talk to about this, it's an honour, but let me say that I am no authority, nor expert, so don't let my opinions confine you.

Now, to answer your question:

I think that whether or not he would reply and the way he would reply depends on the moment. When is Lyla asking him, at what point of the story?

If the question is asked early in their friendship, I don't think he would answer. He would either change the subject or ignore it. If he got asked later, he could provide a very generic or cryptic answer. I could also see him lying by omission.

Now, telling Lyla everything is tricky. I could see him doing that, but only under specific circumstances. If their friendship has progressed enough, maybe he could tell her the whole truth, but I can't see him getting into extreme detail.

I think that it would be easier for him to talk unprompted. At a right moment I think that he would open up by himself and share something. He definitely trusts Lyla. He knows that she has secrets too, so he would feel that there's some kind of leverage in his favour. He knows that she can't and wouldn't betray him.

Another scenario where I could see him telling the truth would be if his past got relevant in the present. For example, past enemies coming back or consequences of past actions resurfacing. In this case, I could see him revealing his past if asked under pressure, or to protect Lyla.

Also, I think that the way that he gets asked is important. A very direct question like "Tell me about your past" wouldn't have effect. Stefan answering simpler questions like "have you been in X", "do you know X" seems more possible to me. Generally 'yes or no' questions are more difficult to dodge, so they make excellent starting points for a conversation that will later reveal more important stuff.

Please, have in mind that this is just my opinion. You are free to address the subject in the way that makes the most sense for your story. After all, fanfiction is a what if...?

I hope this has been helpful

TL;DR

It all depends on when and how Lyla asks him. Put them in the "right" conditions that make sense in the context of your story and you couldn't go wrong!

Writing is hard, so have courage and keep going! I can't wait to see what you will come up with, dear stefanologist!

Allow me to tag @madmachaca whose opinion on the subject I'd like to hear (and whose Stefan fics, here on Tumblr, are the most in-character I have ever read, in my opinion)

#thank you for the ask! #it's been a while since I talked about him #stefanology #Stefan Vladuck #camera 9 #pkna #ask me #just-a-simpel-narrator

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Nothing and Everything - Part 2

Summary: Certain times of the year are harder than others. This is the first year where they have all been present to face the memories of all the trauma. How can they come together when they each have their own traumas to face?

Pairings: Gen fic (they love Layla and she loves them)

Warnings: Heavy dissociation, Mentions of child abuse, some mentions of violence, Depression, mentions of self harm, PTSD.

Word Count: 4182

Part two: Sometimes bad days escalate. Steven is having a bad day. How do you cope with the loss of your dreams?

Part one HERE.

----

“I’m better off.” Steven muttered to himself as he walked past the building. 

He ignored the banners on the light poles along the street. Banners that boasted incorrect information. 

He moved past the familiar steps he had stumbled up and down so often in a state of near sleep. 

He didn’t turn left at the fountain and he didn’t push past security to be misnamed at the door by a bloke he worked with for a solid year at least. 

He glanced up once to take in the familiar columns and looming windows. He could remember the slick tile floors, the staff room with the lockers where he would put his bag, the smell of the coffee brewing at the cafe, and the sound of the beep of his inventory gun. 

He hated the gift shop. He hated pushing candy and badly designed toys on the children. He hated that they learned incorrect things at a place that they trusted. He hated the stolen artifacts and the guilt of knowing they were there for his viewing pleasure when a culture cried out to curate their own history. A fact that Layla had instantly taken the time to imbue on him right away. 

Yet… There had been something sacred about knowing he could see it all. Of knowing he could turn left at the hall of ancient history and find himself looking at the Rosetta Stone. 

How long had he wanted to be involved in it all? Those first Natural Geographic magazines they had handed out in school had delighted him. Steve Martin’s ridiculous song about King Tut had enchanted him when they had shown it in art class in some misguided attempt to get the kids excited about hieroglyphics. 

Steven’s hand tightened on the strap at his shoulder, pulling down on the bag as if it might hold him in place. 

He recalled taking a career placement test in school and being told he should be a museum curator. He remembered how baffled he had been, not understanding what that was at the time. 

Life had taken him on a different path. Or so he had thought. College? Well, it just hadn’t really been his cup of tea, so he told himself. He was more of a home school self taught sort, wasn’t he? 

It explained why he couldn’t remember graduating high school or applying for colleges. Perhaps money had been a factor? College wasn’t cheap, after all, and his family had… He wasn’t sure? 

You had to have degrees to curate a museum. You had to have work experience to be on a dig site. A man of his age… How old was he again?

A tour guide position had appealed to him. Walking through the museum on a path he picked and teaching his passion to them. Correcting the wall cards and dropping knowledge bombs on everyone… 

Steven applied despite his lack of schooling. He remembered the interview. The look on their face as he babbled and smiled and fidgeted. He didn’t understand a few of the questions. How could he? They hadn’t been fair. 

“I’m sorry. I just don’t feel it would be a good match for you at this time. It’s quite a demanding position. But… We do have openings elsewhere…” Pity laced the suggestion and then he was in the gift shop. 

With Donna. 

Steven looked up at the sky. It was very blue. A hot summer with an unforgiving sun that beat down on them much like it had in Egypt. 

A sun that tanned his skin that had gotten pale in the English light. Coming home, he was almost as dark as he used to be as a kid running around outside in the streets of…Chicago, he supposed was the right answer.

Another memory that didn’t line up with the story he had told himself. Who was he really? Where had he come from? 

Questions in interviews that he couldn’t answer. What school did he have? What background? What was the source of his knowledge? 

All hopes and dreams of the museum were gone. 

He had re-applied. Of course he had. The second he was back from Egypt, adventure and first hand knowledge fresh in his mind. 

Not to the gift shop. He would never set foot in that place again if he had anything to do with it. 

He didn’t even get a call back. He gave it a month. 

Applying again, this time he called and spoke to HR directly. 

“No, but I’m better now. It’s all sorted. It was all just a terrible misunderstanding.” He promised and smiled, pleading silently to get back in. Maybe not as a tour guide… But he could work up to it. If they’d just give him a chance. 

“With your history, we just can’t allow it. You are, of course, welcome to visit and use the friends and family discount.” They had offered. They might as well have spit in his face and called it a blessing. 

And now? Well… Now here he stood. Looking up at the peak museum that he couldn’t bring himself to set foot in again. Not now and maybe not ever. Seeing them look at him with pity. Like he was crazy. Like he was an idiot. 

“Better off…” He turned and continued down the street. 

It was hot. Muggy, really. It wasn’t the dry heat of Egypt. This one got into his pores and made him sweat and feel the heaviness of his eyelids. 

There was no AC in his flat and it was hard to sleep in this heat. 

Harder to sleep when someone kept waking them up in a panic. 

Marc perhaps? Maybe Jake? Maybe himself. He really wasn’t sure. Dreams of being buried alive left them waking in heavy sweat and gasping for air. The real kicker was that all three of them could sympathize thanks to their various experiences of death. 

One man should not have that many deaths to point to. 

Steven approached a familiar group of fountains and joined a small group of people to watch a man painted head to toe in gold strike statuesque poses. 

Once the people grew bored of him and moved on, Steven stepped up and placed a well wrapped sandwich in the offering bowl. 

“Slim pickings today, eh?” He smiled and took his old seat. “Tourist season is pretty much over. They hate this heat, you know. Utterly dreadful. I don’t know how you put up with it in all that.” 

The man didn’t move, but he listened. It was all Steven could ask for. All he ever asked for. 

“I had an interview today. I don’t think it went well. I think I’m aiming too high. I’m probably on some sort of watch list.” He chuckled to himself till he realized that Marc probably WAS on some sort of watch list. Probably more than one. 

“Marc says I don’t have to work. He’s got enough money to handle things.” He talked about the others openly now. Though sometimes he left out little details, like the fact that the others shared a body with him. “Jake works. Why shouldn’t I also help out? I’m the only one not making my own way…” 

The man in gold adjusted his pose slowly till he was sitting in a new pose. He really did look like the sort of statue you might find in Venice. 

“I miss the museum.” Steven sighed softly. “Don’t miss Donna. Don’t get me wrong, I definitely do not miss her.” 

Her look of disgust when he walked into her gift shop the first time came back to him now. Her judging glare as he stumbled into a display that had no business being in the middle of a walking path. Her eye-roll when he reorganized the keychains from small to large because it made more sense that way. Her pursed lips when he corrected the pronunciation of the names of different gods and goddesses. 

Steven was quiet as he looked up at the sun, wishing it would go down faster. The night only helped a little. Once the sun was down, the heat that had baked the city now was free to rise back up, like opening an oven door. It was somehow almost worse. Stale and stagnant as it lingered in his home that quickly became hotter inside than it was outside. 

“You’re doing alright, aren’t you?” He looked up at his golden friend. “Tough crowds out these days.” 

The statue looked hopeful, even a little contemplative. Steven took it as a good sign. 

He nodded then glanced at his watch. “I gotta run. I’m meeting Layla for dinner. Let her know how dismal the interview went. Next time I’m up in this area I’ll be sure to stop by for a real chat, though.” 

Steven smiled as his golden friend gave the smallest of nods before adjusting his gaze further towards the plaza, hands reaching for some imagined something or someone that the statues always seemed to need. 

Hurrying back past the museum, Steven didn’t bother to look this time. It hurt too much. 

He was only part way to the restaurant when his phone chimed. Glancing down, he stopped in his place to read the message from the last place he had interviewed. 

“Thank you for your interest and application, but unfortunately we are looking for someone a bit more qualified.” Steven deleted the text then slipped his phone back into his pocket. 

He didn’t need to reply. Couldn’t even bring himself to check his phone when it chimed again. He stood at the edge of the sidewalk, watching the people walk by and cars zip around. 

There went the bus he used to take every day going home from work. This was about the time he’d catch it. It was usually less busy late at night if he got stuck doing inventory. He could easily sit in his favorite seat, partway in the back over the wheel. He liked that he could curl his legs up a bit and that the seat was a little higher than the others. It made looking out the window easier. 

He had perfected the fine art of dozing on the bus just enough to not miss his stop. Shutting his eyes, he’d listen to the cars and feel the sway as the bus curved and turned down the streets. 

Left turn at the light, three stops, right at the corner store, four more stops and a light that they always seemed to get stuck at for ages. Another left then a meandering street that went on for ages. On the final right, he would sit up and watch for the old building that used to be a pharmacy and was now under construction. 

If he felt up for it, he might get off a few stops early and pop into the shop with all the novelty items. He’d used to call his Mum in that shop and laugh about all the bobbleheads and weird tea jokes on the post cards. 

Steven was dimly aware of his phone chiming again and then finally it started to sing a jaunty tune. 

His hand moved and fished it out on its own accord. “Hm?” Was all he could get out as he answered it. 

“Steven? I’m at the restaurant. Are you nearby? I can snag a table for us.” Layla’s voice called to him and Steven closed his eyes for a moment. 

“Yeah. Uh huh.”  He fished for the ability to speak. “Okay.” 

There was a pause and Steven ran a hand through his hair, tossling it as he realized his fingers were trembling. 

He had no business being this disappointed. He knew it went poorly. He knew he wasn’t going to get it. He had no business applying for anything other than bag boy. 

“Are you alright?” She felt across the divide, sensing the deep silence that was lingering over her normally chatty boyfriend. 

“Mmm Hmm.” He at last found a few words. “I’ll be there in a bit. I’m just down the street.” 

He fumbled with the phone then hung up, wincing as he did so. He never cut the conversation so short normally. He didn’t even remember to tell her that he loved her or thought the world of her or was so happy… So happy to…to have her…

He rubbed his eyes and started to walk towards the restaurant. His toe caught the side of a bit of uneven sidewalk and he stumbled forward, trying to catch himself. 

His shoe landed wrong and he ended up rolling his ankle, but at least he hadn’t ended up on his ass. 

By the time he made it to the restaurant, Layla sat waiting for him at a table near the back. It would be a bit quieter there with less traffic and chances of people bumping into him. A table she knew he would appreciate. 

Steven hobbled over and sat down, forcing a smile that felt more painful than it should have been as smiling was the last thing he wanted to do. 

He couldn’t focus. Layla was talking but her voice was faded into the background and so was he. 

He blinked and felt a familiar shift and spin. He was aware of the sensation of time passing and suddenly he was no longer at the restaurant, but in his own apartment standing before the fish tank in his pajamas with fish food in hand. 

He looked into the tank for signs of having fed the fish already before he sprinkled some flakes into the tank, watching as the fish happily gulped them up. 

He assumed he was doing his bedtime routine and glanced around to try to figure out how far along they had come. The door was locked, the kitchen looked clean, his mouth tasted minty fresh, and the lights were off in the living room. 

He set the food down and switched off the fish tank lights. “Good night, Gus and Gus.” He yawned and took a step towards his room. The ache in his ankle made him limp and the day slowly came back to him. 

Glancing to the bedroom, he found Layla already in bed and on her side, facing away. Was she mad at him? He was supposed to have dinner with her and tell her about his interview and plans for a job. Plans that now felt meaningless. 

Who had been left at the table? Had Jake been forced to sit there and socialize or had Marc taken the time to enjoy a meal with his wife? Marc hadn’t been out in a day or two. 

In fact, Marc hadn’t even so much as spoken to him in the past three days. Jake was even being quiet and Steven had never felt so alone. 

The lost time was upsetting too. It had been ages since he’d felt a solid amnesic barrier and simply been deposited back in his flat as if it had all been a bad dream. Just like in the start. Ignore it all and feed the fish. Let the adults handle things. 

He felt angry. He wanted to yell about the unfairness of it all. He wanted to throw things and demand that he be given a chance. Just one chance. 

Standing silently in the dark, looking at the shape of Layla sleeping soundly, Steven started to cry. 

The tears fell, large and slowly at first. 

He was a child again, standing in his dark room and looking out the window. Why didn’t he have any friends? Why did no one want to play with him? Why did they call him names and run away? 

Of all his missing memories and secrets that had been kept from him, why was this the one that he had been allowed to keep? 

His father that didn’t want to hear him speak. You talk too much sometimes. If you would just speak normally then maybe the others would want to play with you.

Was this what it was like? Was this why Marc never let him do anything? Marc had spent so much time trying to protect Steven from his own traumas that he had failed to see that Steven had his own form of suffering. 

“I’m alone.” Steven’s voice wavered. He remembered eating steak alone at the restaurant. He remembered the routine of sand and tape and shackles. He remembered the ridicule and outright bullying from Donna. He remembered being left out of work get togethers and parties. Of not being invited to birthday parties at school. Of sitting alone at his own birthday before a cake and wondering why no one else was there. 

“I don’t want to be alone!” Steven sobbed, unable to contain it anymore. 

There was a shuffle and he heard Layla sit up then jump out of bed and scramble to him. 

“Steven!” She gripped his shoulders, looking him over as if looking for the source of injury or pain. “Steven, what’s wrong? What is it?” 

Steven could only sob louder as he pulled away and sank down to the ground, pulling his knees to his chest and hugging them tightly as he rocked. 

Layla took a moment before she slowly sat down next to him. She watched him for a moment, trying to work out what to do. She had seen Steven break down like this only once before and that had been shortly after she first met him when he had been overwhelmed. 

She started with a hand on his arm, gentle and light to see if he would tolerate being touched. When Marc had his moments, he would push her away and block himself off. Steven had always been the opposite of Marc, open and honest. 

When Steven didn’t pull away, she wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close. He resisted for a moment, mumbling something. 

It took her a moment to make out what it was he was saying. 

“Sorry… I didn’t mean it… I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me. Please…” He sniffled and buried his face into his arms, clinging to his knees tightly. 

“I’m not mad. Why would I be mad?” 

“I didn’t go to dinner. I didn’t… Didn’t get the job. They hated me.” He wiped his eyes angrily and looked away. “Not good enough. No one wants me!” 

“No, sweetie! That’s not true! Of course people want you! Those people are just idiots to pass you over. They don’t know you and what a wonderful and amazingly smart person you are!” She stroked his back and tried to get him to look at her. To see what he was indeed loved and wanted. 

“No one wants me.” Steven stubbornly refused to look at her. He was lost in memories that he used to just brush aside. Memories that he had forgotten. 

“I wish you would stop playing that game.” His father looked at him with frustration and concern. “There is no Steven. People are starting to talk and the school says it’s becoming a problem. You aren’t this Steven Grant person, okay? You’re Marc. You can’t keep doing this.” 

“I am.” Steven muttered angrily. “You’re wrong.” He argued with the voices of the past. “You’re wrong.” 

“Hey… Steven…” Layla brushed his hair back and looked at him sternly. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re here with me in your flat.” 

It was something she had learned with Marc when he had his flashbacks. Give him something to cling to. Make him safe. Make him present. 

She didn’t know what Steven was seeing, but he was lost. She got up and turned on the lights, trying to guide him back. 

Steven gave a slow blink then wiped the tear from his cheeks. He glanced around then sat back, sniffling. She had never seen him look so lost before. Normally one of the others would have stepped in by now. 

That was how it worked, right? If one felt bad then another would come in and set things right? Steven kept them happy and peaceful and Jake kept them safe and Marc kept them going. 

She watched as Steven looked down at his hand then moved to rub his sore ankle. He looked puzzled for a moment as if trying to figure something out. 

Jake had said very little about their day to her over dinner. He had mentioned about Steven tripping and about the poor interview. He had said that Steven wasn’t taking it well, but that they would handle it. 

Had Jake lied to her? Did Jake really not know how badly Steven was taking it? 

Doubt crossed her mind and for the first time, she wondered if maybe things weren’t the way she thought they were. She had let them tell her how their system worked. How they had their own jobs and aspects to keep it going smoothly. How things would be fine. 

Maybe they didn’t know. 

Steven took a deep breath and looked up at her. “Sorry. M’alright. Right mess I am, huh? I should ice this. I don’t think it got iced yet. Last thing we need is for us to be hobbling around tomorrow. Do you know if we’ve had any aspirin or anything?” 

“Jake took something when we got home.” Layla crossed her arms over her chest tightly as she realized Steven didn’t know who had taken them home and there had been zero communication. 

Steven nodded and slowly got to his feet. “I didn’t think I’d get the job. I’m such a nut… Crying over something I didn’t even want.” 

Layla moved to help him and sat him down on the bed. “It is perfectly reasonable to be upset over things like this. Just remember that you aren’t a failure or unwanted. You are amazing and I love you so much.” She kissed his forehead lightly. “Wait here. I’ll get you some ice.” 

She moved to the kitchen to sort some ice into a bag and to give Steven a moment. When she returned, Steven was right where she’d left him, looking sad and dejected. 

“Marc and Jake aren’t talking to me.” He sighed. 

“It is late. Maybe they uh.. Are asleep?” She had no idea how that worked. Did they fall asleep on their own? Where did they go when they weren’t up front watching or talking? 

Steven shrugged noncommittally and accepted the ice, putting it on his ankle gingerly. 

“I suppose. It just feels like… Like I’m alone.” He shook his head and she got the feeling he was leaving something out. 

“No one’s mad at you. Especially not me.” She sat next to him and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. 

He leaned in but still seemed so far away. 

“Yeah.” He at last said. “Has Marc been out at all?” 

“Not today as far as I’m aware. I did see him a bit yesterday morning. We had some coffee and he watched part of a baseball game.” She thought back to yesterday. 

Marc had gone through the motions. Kissing her good morning, making the coffee and toast. He had watched the game, clapping and heckling the players accordingly, but it had seemed like more of a script than a real reaction. 

Marc had gotten quiet halfway into the game and Jake had come out for a bit before letting Steven slide in. Did Steven now know that Marc had been out? 

Jake had assured her that Marc was just feeling down and needed some time. Jake had looked tired. 

Come to think of it, that had been the first time she had seen Marc in over a day. 

Layla frowned and gave Steven another squeeze. “Feeling better? Do you need any tea or some water?” 

Steven shook his head. “I’m fine. I think I just want to sleep it off. Tomorrow I can put it all behind me. Just needed a little cry, huh? Let the feelings out so they don’t get bottled up like certain someones.” He gave a little jab and smile but it faded instantly. 

Steven set the ice aside then crawled to his spot on the bed and settled between the covers. He bundled himself up tightly in the blanket and lay still. 

Layla got up and switched off the lights before sliding into the bed. She gave it a moment then slowly reached out and slid a hand over him. Steven made a small sound and slowly scooted over to let her curl up around him protectively. 

“Shhh…” She stroked his hair as he breathed deeply, his breath hitching slightly now and then as he struggled through an emotion that she didn’t understand. 

Eventually his breathing evened out as he fell asleep. She peeled back the blankets just enough to get a look at his face, calm and relaxed, but still carrying the lines of stress. 

She kissed his hair, breathing in deeply before allowing herself to relax at last. 

Layla was going to have words with Jake the next time she saw him. 

--

Next Chapter HERE

#Moon Knight #Moon Knight Fic #Marc Spector #Steven Grant #Jake Lockley #layla el faouly #Jake's gonna get it is what's gonna happen #It's hard to go back to old jobs sometimes #Ever had one of those days where you just argue with the past?

[ozarkthedog]

Thank you for supporting my writing and indulging in fantasizes with me over the years. I throughly enjoy whoring with each and every one of you! 💙

𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

❦ Please reblog to spread the fun! 💃

❦ Characters accepted: joel miller · frankie morales · tim rockford · din djarin · mr. ben · tommy miller · marc spector · layla el-faouly · poe dameron · santi garcia · ted lasso · roy kent · jamie tartt · rebecca welton · dani miranda

❦ send asks with the corresponding emoji and all details!

❦ DILF/DBF/DARK! asks are encouraged!

❦ Multiple submissions are welcome. I'll do my best to respond to them all even when the celebration is over. Obvs, I reserve the right to not respond to an ask if it doesn't vibe with me. Don't take it personally xx

❦ Celebration open from April 25th thru April 30th!

𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒

📷 - send a character + a concept and I’ll respond with a moodboard & drabble.

🎵 - send any Florence + the Machine song and I’ll write a drabble about whichever character comes to mind.

📝 - send a number from this prompt list + character and I’ll write a drabble.

💀 - send your dark! thots and I'll add to the carnage. 😈

🥰 - Fic/Blog Rec - I wanna share the love!

👀 - WYR, FMKiss, This or That, Cast My Mutuals, etc.

💌 - any questions you’d like me to answer!

I’ll add all fics I write for the celebration to this post. 💙

Boss!Rebecca Welton x PA Fem!Reader

Marc Spector Drabble

DILF!Joel Miller

Mr. Ben spanks you

#10k birthday celebration

[jomarch-wannabe]

350 followers celebration!

Thank you everyone for getting me here! I know 350 followers aren’t much, but I’m grateful for every one of you! 🥰

I’m so grateful for the support and encouraging comments I’ve received for my work!

I started writing fanfiction in my notes app awhile ago, just for myself because you know gotta cope somehow and decided to put them out there to see if they’re any good. Turns out they are! I’m so blown away at the positive feedback I’ve received. It’s very encouraging, and inspires me to write more.

A little bit about me

🌹 My name is Madelyn, I’m 19 years old

🌹 I have a second blog dedicated to period dramas (check it out if that is something that intrigues you! 😊) @downton-musings

🌹 Where I want to live (rather than where I’m from): I would love to live in England one day! I’ve always been really into period dramas so I think that has fed some sort of delusion that living in England will be like living in a Jane Austen novel lol. In all seriousness, the English countryside is stunning and seems like a serene and peaceful place to reside. I’m imagining myself cozied up in a little cottage like Iris has in The Holiday, writing all day. Seems like a vibe.

🌹 Favorite color: Purple!

🌹 Favorite fictional character(s): Lucy Pevensie (The Chronicles of Narnia), Jane Eyre (Jane Eyre), Alice (Alice in Wonderland), Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter), Belle (Beauty and the Beast), Edith Crawley (Downton Abbey), Kya Clark (Where the Crawdads Sing) ~ I resonate with all of them in different ways

🌹 Favorite book: Jane Eyre (Best novel I’ve ever read in my life. Would recommend if you’re into gothic romances and older men 😏)

🌹 Personality type (mbti): INFP

🌹 Currently reading: The Picture of Dorian Gray (I’ve been getting into classics lately. Shoot me some recommendations if that’s your thing too!)

🌹 Currently listening to: Lana Del Ray, Oldies (Etta James, Sam Cooke, Judy Garland..)

🌹 3 things I couldn’t live without (assuming I have a phone and basic nessecities): Chapstick (religiously put it on every second of the day), A pen (or something to write with), Painted nails (I’ve been digging red lately)

I want to hear from you too! Feel free to answer the same questions and tag me!

Special thanks to..

Thank you to the following mutuals for believing in me and always being so supportive. And for sticking by side when I wasn’t active recently. Love you guys! 💕

@zablife - Lee, for getting me started, and being my most encouraging supporter. I remember freaking out when you reblogged my post, it was the first reblog I ever received, and really set things in motion for me. Your interactions really got my work out there, and I’m so grateful you took the time to support me even when I wasn’t a big blog.

@call-sign-shark - Shark! I love that we both connected through our Arthur fics. He needs more love! I thoroughly enjoy reading your stories, and hearing from you. Your feedback is the BEST.

@runnning-outof-time - K, thank for great conversations, and for always checking in on me and making sure I’m okay. I love how considerate you are. I also really appreciate your requests and fic ideas! You keep my creative gears turning.

@pacifymebby - Layla, for your great connection and friendship. I’ve loved bonding with you over various topics. It helps me feel less alone and crazy. Your work always speaks to me! We are one and the same. :)

@shelbydelrey - Isa, I love hearing feedback from a talented writer such as yourself. You are a wonderful addition to the Peaky fandom. I hope to chat with you more! I love reading your work!

@dearshelby - Lora, thank you for reblogging and being supportive of my work! It means the world to me.

@allie131313 - Allie, for your reblogs and funny commentary. I love your account and that we share an obsession Cillian Murphy. I always look forward to seeing your posts (bc I know it's gonna be something good) haha.

Please message me if I missed you! I went through my followers many times (to find my mutuals), but may have missed some people.

Notable works

💋 Fics that deserve more love that I’m still thinking about!

The Waves - Tommy Shelby x Reader @pacifymebby - literally phenomenal. I read this at a time where I really needed it. Honestly saved me. So so good.

Too Close to Heaven - Tommy Shelby x Reader @pacifymebby - Insaneee. Made me cry. You must read this.

Partners in Crime - John Shelby x Y/N Solomon's (Alfie's Sister) @zablife - This series is so entertaining! Made me burst out laughing multiple times. Lee nailed the dialect and mannerisms of the two.

A Difficult Patient - John Shelby x wife reader @zablife - So hot. Still thinking about it lol.

Nothing's Going to Hurt You - Tommy Shelby x Female Reader @zablife - Such a raw and real depiction of anxiety. Gut wrenching and breathtaking and comforting all at the same time.

Even the most beautiful flower dies Alfie Solomons x Reader - @raincoffeeandfandoms - This story absolutely ripped me to shreds. I sat in silence contemplating my life after I read it.

Soft - Tommy Shelby x Fem! Reader @shelbydelrey - Absolutely beautiful. A masterpiece for anyone that loves Tommy. Isa portrayed him in such a soft, tender way here. It was stunning.

Ultraviolence - Dark!Arthur Shelby x Reader @call-sign-shark - Sooo good. Combining Lana Del Ray and Arthur Shelby is genius. Loved this one to bits. Scratched that itch in my brain for angst.

Heaven in Your Eyes - Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC (Heaven Lavey Shelby) @call-sign-shark - Phenomenal series. Explores the battle of good and evil in an extraordinary way. Very complex characters and plot that leaves you on the edge of your seat.

When the Sky Opens Up to Everything - Tommy Shelby x Reader @runnning-outof-time - An emotional story exploring pre-war Tommy. A fascinating and captivating read that left me crying.

Set Me Straight - Arthur Shelby x Reader @runnning-outof-time - Really emotional fic that dives into Arthur's battle with ptsd, and his significiant other helping him through it. His trauma isn't talked about enough, so I really appreciated this one.

Writing challenge!

I’m currently in my Lana era, so I would love to see some fics inspired by her work! 🥰

Rules 🕯️💌 🦢💋

~ Write a fic inspired by a Lana Del Ray song (use one of the below prompts)

~ Has to be written with Peaky Blinders characters

~ Can use the prompt(s) as quotes spoken by a character, or as inspiration for the general theme of a fic. Or as a thought the character is having. It’s up to you!

~ Anyone can use the prompts, as many as you want. I’m not keeping track of it! (So no need to ask to use one). Just be sure to say what prompt you used when you post it (indent or highlight or something of that nature when it appears in the fic 😊 so I see it)

~ Tag me in your finished work if decide to join! Would love to give my thoughts and get your work out there!

~ I’m participating in the writing challenge too! So I’ll be working on getting some fics posted with the prompts as well. :)

Lana Del Ray song lyric prompts

“They say I’m too young to love you.”

“Will you still Iove me when I’m no longer young and beautiful?”

“He hit me and it felt like a kiss.”

“You’re crazy all the time.”

“If you’re going crazy, just grab me and take me. I’d follow you down down down, anywhere anywhere.”

“Love me until I love myself.”

“There’s things I wanna say to you, but I’ll just let you live.”

“If you hold me without hurting me, you’ll be the first who ever did.”

“And there’s no remedy for memory, your face is like a melody, it won’t leave my head. Your soul is haunting me and telling me that everything is fine, but I wish I was dead.”

“There’s no relief, I feel you in my sleep, and everybody’s rushing me but I can feel you touching me.”

“Come on baby, let’s ride. We can escape to the great sunshine. I know your wife, and she wouldn’t mind.”

“You’re no good for me, but baby I want you.”

“If he’s a serial killer, then what’s the worst, that can happen to a girl who’s already hurt? I’m already hurt.”

“Creeping around on the side, might not be something you would do. But you haven’t seen my man.”

“I’ve got my eye on you.”

“Kiss me hard before you go.”

“It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you, everything I do.”

“Heaven is a place on earth with you.”

“I can see my baby swinging. His parliament’s on fire and his hands are up. On the balcony and I’m singing, ooh, baby, ooh, baby, I’m in love.”

“I’m pretty when I cry.”

“Don’t say you need me if you leave last, you’re leaving. I can’t do it.”

“You’re my religion, you’re how I’m living.”

“I know if I go, I’ll die happy tonight.”

“You’re so art deco. Out on the floor.”

“Every time I close my eyes, it’s like a dark paradise.”

“Love you more than those bitches before.”

“Baby can you see through the tears?”

“I will love you till the end of time.”

“You’re screwed up and brilliant.”

“You look like a million dollar man, so why is my heart broke?”

“Dying by the hand of a foreign man, happily.”

“I fall to pieces when I’m with you.”

“Give me all of that ultraviolence.”

“Watch what you say to me. Careful who you’re talking to.”

“Don’t make me sad, don’t make me cry.”

“Sometimes love is not enough, and the road gets tough I don’t know why.”

“Keep making me laugh, let’s go get high.”

“Let me fuck you hard in the pouring rain.”

“You like your girls insane.”

“I’m not unhappy or unhinged, I’m just wild.”

“Fuck me to death, love me until I love myself.”

“Do you think we’ll be in love forever?”

“I don’t wanna live.”

“They judge me like a picture book, by the colors, like they forgot to read.”

“Lay me down tonight in my diamonds and pearls.”

I didn’t organize the prompts into categories (like angst, or fluff) because I really think they are up for your own interpretation, and whatever you feel. Can’t wait to see what you come up with! Have fun!

Mutuals who I’m thankful for that weren’t already mentioned above! Thank you for your support! 🫶🤍 @kmc1989 @danahart @peakyswritings @archer-centaur @robertacolindrezlvr @vic24sworld @deafeningempathfishcowboy @copiasratx @mezzorizahawkeye

Divider by @firefly-graphics

#350 followers celebration #lana del rey #peaky blinders #fanfiction #peaky blinders fandom #peaky blinders fanfiction

[bettsfic]

Hi Betts! I love your writing advice and I've been following it for years, and it's been a wonderful resource <3 So I mostly write flash and/or short fic (the longest thing I've put out was in the 9k range) and I really like shorter stuff because I feel like I have more control and I really love the form of the short story, even if that stuff doesn't get as much attention in fandom. The thing is, sometimes when I go back and read my stuff I feel like it's underwritten, even if I still really like the prose and what's on the page. Something feels off with the pacing, say, or I just feel like I want to be in that world more, like there are more details to be filled in-- a general sense of incompleteness. Or, these past couple of months, I've had ideas I wanted to write that I know would need 10-15k to execute properly, and I just feel defeated because I don't think I have that in me as a writer. I'm not interested in writing novel-length fics or anything like that-- I just want to be able to convey what I want as economically as possible, but when I sit down to draft it feels like pulling teeth to break even past the first one thousand words. You got any tips?

the key to writing longer stuff is to ask questions of your narrative that take a long time to answer, and can only be answered by drafting it out. i wanted to work on a novella, 25k max, and now it's 110k just because i kept asking myself, "what is this guy's deal?" ("this guy" being the main character, who is based loosely off a guy i used to know and who i never understood even a little). on the way, other characters joined the conflict and then i wanted to know what their deals were too. i think it takes a lot of curiosity and having no idea what the thing you're writing even is in order to write something long.

another way to make a work longer is to create multiple, high-stakes anchor points. anchor points (or turning points, quest markers, whatever you want to call them) are events in a story that are more or less fixed. some of them are obvious: if you're writing a romance, one anchor point is going to involve a first kiss and/or a love confession. another one might be offering your characters a happy ending. if you're asking a lot of questions of your narrative, more anchor points will be created, complicating your path to the ones that were set early on.

the further back you start them from your anchor points, the longer the work is going to be. if i'm looking to write a happily ever after ending for two profoundly fucked up characters, and if i throw in more anchor points on the way (say, murder) it's going to take a lot of work to get them where i want them to be. continuing the murder example, if i have a character who has never killed anyone before and doesn't seem like they even could, i have to set up some kind of external arc that would lead them to decide to kill somebody, and also an internal arc to push them to that point.

an example (albeit kind of an extreme one) is an original character i made named layla, for the aforementioned should-have-been-a-novella. in early drafting and plotting, i wanted to make her a kind albeit determined person. i didn't know anything about her, and i didn't need to. she's not the POV character.

but as my main character became more complex, it seemed less likely that someone like him would fall for someone who didn't have a lot of depth to them or some kind of darker edge. so i thought, haha what if she's a psychopath? i wrote her that way for a while, but i wasn't vibing with that either. and then i thought, what if she thinks she's a psychopath but absolutely is not a psychopath? what would make her think that about herself? a sociopathic older sister, i thought. and what if layla is made to do awful things to protect a younger sister? and if so, what are those awful things she had to do? what was that like?

as an exercise, i wrote out her life story just to answer these questions, and it was so fun and cool to be in her head that i ended up making her a POV character. and whenever you add a POV, your word count basically doubles. (i guess that's another tip: write a lot of character POVs in one thing and see what happens.)

my last tip is what i call the spaghetti draft. a spaghetti draft is a draft in which you're throwing spaghetti at a wall and seeing what sticks. it's a process of intentional over-writing. you're throwing in backstory, you're describing ten cracked tiles in somebody's bathroom, you're pushing your dialogue so far the characters start to bore you. throw everything you can possibly think of into it until it is disgusting to you.

then you go back and pare it down. hopefully in spaghetti-ing, you've discovered more threads to tug, more questions to ask of your story, more paths toward what's still unknown.

i have a post that talks about (among other things) beefing up your interiority that might also be helpful.

#writing advice

[joyful-soul-collector]

6 Voicemails from Steven + 1 from Marc

Summary: @little-cereal-draws wrote a fic for MKtober2022 Day 2: Laters Gators that was made up of voicemails Steven made to his mother (which you can and SHOULD read here), and it made me wonder: what voicemails would Steven have left for his mother during each episode of the Moon Knight tv show?

This fic answers that question. 

(It also answers this question on Ao3 and Wattpad)

Here we go:

Voicemail from: Steven Grant

“Hello, Mum. It's me. Just checkin' in. I got your postcard, putting it up on Gus' tank now. Yeah, it's very nice. He’s fuming, though. Keeps asking why I don't take him anywhere nice. Maybe one day, right? He'd love to get out there, but it's a bit hard with one fin, innit? Anyway, Mom, all's well here. Not too bad. Still wake up every morning still feeling like I got hit by a bus. And if you��” 

He pauses, and when he speaks again he’s talking to someone else, his voice muffled. There’s the sound of cars going by, and people bustling. It’s calm, and he’s okay. Then Steven’s voice returns clearly, speaking to his mother again. 

“Anyway, sorry I missed you, Mum. I'll try you again tomorrow. Laters, gators.”

~~~

Voicemail from: Steven Grant

“Hiya Mum. Sorry I didn’t call earlier, I woke up rather late today. Yeah I dunno what happened! I had the weirdest dream last night, I was in the Alps, and there was this man who did something… something weird and killed this woman? And then it got really weird, I kept missing chunks of the dream, and there was a whole thing with a cupcake van and--Agh, anyway, I just er, slept the day away yeah? I’m er… well I’m lucky I didn’t miss my date! It was with Dylan, you know, the girl I told you about? Yeah, you know, I think she really liked me. She loved the flowers. Yeah. Yeah, well, I'm gonna bring her around soon, I think. Yeah, I think you'd love her. Yeah, she's got a great sense of humor. So... Anyway, I'll tell you more about it tomorrow. Love you. Laters, gators.”

~~~

Voicemail from: Steven Grant

“Hey, Mum. Could you erm… just call me back, yeah? There’s… there’s something happening to me, I think. There’s something erm… something. That dream I had, the one I told you about in the Alps? Turns out it wasn’t a dream, right? Which doesn’t make any sense, but listen, I saw that man at the museum yesterday, the man that killed that poor woman? He came by, and then after work… well, that’s why I need you to call me back. It’s really hard to explain. Yeah, I’m going to work now, just feeding Gus before I go. Or erm… whoever this is. Need to er, talk to you about that too. Anyway I better go. Call me back please? Love you, laters ga--Oh hang on, I almost forgot! Do you know anyone named Marc? Or Layla? I found a phone in my flat, I thought you might’ve left it here. Why you put the phone in the wall I don’t know, but I found that and a storage locker key in there. So erm, yeah just, gimme a call? Please?”

~~~

Voicemail from: Steven Grant

“Mum!? Mum!? Listen, something is really really wrong, I-I can’t control my body, I can’t control my mind--I need help, please, I-I’m in Cairo right now, I’m in bloody Egypt, a-and I don’t know when he’s coming back. He could take over at any second--Shit, I… Mum I can’t speak Arabic, I don’t know where I am, where the airport is--god I hope the cabbie speaks English.” 

His breath starts to quicken, growing shallow and shaky. There’s the sound of cars going by, and people bustling. It’s unfamiliar, and he’s scared.

“Mum this is erm… this is too much, I think. This is too much, I can barely keep my thoughts in a row, I can’t do this by myself, please call me back, I just… I need some help.” 

He sniffs, and takes a few deep breaths. 

“I erm… I hailed a cab, he’s driving up now. I’ll call you once I get to the airport. I don’t even care how much it’ll cost to call, I just… I really need to hear a familiar voice right now. Please, Mum. Call me back. Love you, laters gators.” 

~~~

Voicemail from: Steven Grant

“Hey, Mum. I erm… I’m still in Cairo. I… I decided to stay. God I… I have so much to tell you, Mum. There’s so much that’s happened. I think I might come visit you when this is over, yeah? Tell you about it all. Maybe you’ll even get to meet Layla! Remember when I mentioned her? Yeah turns out that phone didn’t belong to you, it was… well, that’s a whole bit to tell you when I see you. 

“Anyway, Layla is this woman I met, yeah? And she’s just… she’s something else, Mum, I mean she’s just wonderful. She can read hieroglyphs, she speaks French, she loves Marceline Desbordes-Valmore, and she’s so strong and beautiful and--Oh god, look at me, rambling on like a kid, heh.” 

There’s a hesitant pause, Steven’s breath catching as he considered what to say. There’s no sound, and he’s not okay.

“Why didn’t you call me back, Mum? I’m fine now, but it’s been days since then and you just… were you even worried? That I haven’t called in so long? I only ever hear from you in your postcards, Mum. And you barely say anything in them anyway. I know you’re afraid of tele salespeople but you should’ve gotten my message, you should’ve called me. I really needed you, Mum, and you just…” 

He sighed, the second pause saying everything he needed it to. 

“Anyway I better go, I’m supposed to be looking for supplies before we go into this place looking for an ushabti. Again, lots to tell you when I see you. Call me back when you can this time, please. Love you. Laters gators.”

~~~

Voicemail from: Putnam Psychiatric Hospital

“Uh, hello, Mrs. Grant.” 

There’s a short silence, where not even death’s cold rattle could be heard. 

“Yes, this is Dr. Harrow. Mmm-hmm. Steven's here. He'd like to speak with you. Steven, would you like to speak to your mum?” 

There’s the soft sounds of the phone being passed from hand to hand. It’s possible to hear the sound of his tears when they fall. They make a small plink when they hit the tile floor. It doesn’t make sense, but that’s the only sound it could possibly be. It’s the sound of horrible, deep sorrow, the sound a life makes when it loses its tether to another life. The sound a wife makes when she loses her husband. The sound a boy makes when he loses his brother. The sound a mother makes when she loses her son. 

“My mum… My mum is dead.”

~~~

Voicemail from: Mum

“Hey, buddy. I uh… I guess you know by now that this is, uh. This isn’t Mom’s phone. Never has been, to be honest. Nah, this is a phone that I had in my storage unit. I wanted you to be able to call Mom, and uh… well it was a good way to keep tabs on you too. Make sure you were okay. I listened to every one of them, Steven. And I just… I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry I kept myself hidden from you all this time. I thought I was protecting you, I thought it would make things easier, I… fuck, I don’t know what I was thinking. 

“There were so many times when I wanted to just… come out and tell you everything. I knew you were alone, even when you said you weren’t. Knowing you were there, alive, and full of hope, like I said back in the Duat, it saved me. But you didn’t know I was there. You felt alone. Even if I was there, you didn’t know there was anyone looking out for you. You didn’t know that anybody cared. And I shouldn’t have done that to you. 

“But you won’t have to be alone anymore, alright buddy? We’re gonna get through all this together. You, me, and whoever else is in here, alright? None of us will be alone anymore. 

“Alright, I’m gonna go, we gotta get on the plane soon. Gotta get back home, see if we can get a real night’s sleep for once. Love you, bud. Laters, gators.”

#moon knight #moon knight fanfic #moon knight fanfiction #steven grant #marc spector #mr. knight #steven grant fanfiction #marc spector fanfiction #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #whenever my voice gets lower from T I really wanna see if I can make a podfic of this